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thecoffeelorian · 21 days

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The Transport On The Left, #5

Title: The Transport On The Left

Chapter: Five

Genre: Drama/Mystery

Word Count: 1.1 k.

Characters Included: Wrecker, Captain Rex, and Commander Wolffe.

Brief Description:

"Does it make him a giant nerfherder to wish for something else besides working for scraps from others who don’t exactly enjoy his company, let alone having to stare down the barrel of what’s left of his life and spend it in total maddening silence?

Or should he just swallow all these feelings down like they’re a tasty milkshake from Dex’s Diner, force a smile, and go on doing whatever Hunter wants…?"

AO3: Link Here

No-Pressure Tags: @theosb0rnway @skellymom @gun-roswell @called-me-vicky @momojedi

@littlefeatherr @storminormins @thesmollestnerd @ilovemedia @sunshinesdaydream

@theta11lili @random-user753 @donut1642 @victorianretrogeek @thats-cacti

@gray-paladin @turkishfreak101 @idkwhatdoyouwannabecalled @riverside-of-neverland @wendywilliamsleftlip

@carlycrays @danger-noodles22 @lightninged @ladylienda @marvel-starwarsfangirl

@serinzatravel-blog @archaicsymbols @melymigo @wanderneverlost @spacemagicandlaserswords

@i-dont-know-how-this-site-works @moonstrider9904 @yeehawgeek and anyone else looking for a story where nobody dies.

Special Notes: This divider was created by @djarrex , and so I give all credit to her. :)

One // Two // Three // Four // Five// Six

Five

They’re gonna yell at you for stormin’ out like that.

Let ‘em yell all they want.

Hunter doesn’t like it when you do your elopement thing.

Hunter can deal with it just like everybody else.

Wrecker’s steps echo a bit too loud in the station’s corridor as he walks, a somewhat achy reminder that this station has, unfortunately, lost its purpose in life. Once, it held the solid position of tending to the wounded of the G.A.R., and as such could see up to two hundred Troopers a day if the fighting grew that heavy.

Nowadays, however, even though it’s got enough supplies for the welfare of around two battalions, it’s lucky to see a grand total of ten Troopers or less. Maybe that’s the amount of people in here right now, because even with his bad ear, Wrecker hardly hears anyone else out here besides himself. That’s got to be a good thing, then, because it means less chance of discovery and attack by any unwanted visitors, sure…but then again, it also means there’s almost nobody to talk to.

Especially not when the good Captain’s team of rescuers delivered Crosshair into their hands one minute; then had to go off to a different area of the station the next. Not when they’re still waiting for the grand return of AZI-3, as well as the chance of putting at least one unsolved mystery to rest.

Still…would it really have hurt Cap so much to stick around for more than a few minutes?!

Wrecker lets out a loud sigh and plops himself down in front of the nearest skyhole, his annoyance fizzling up ever so slightly. Okay, so he DID lie about going to find Fireball, but then again, he could cut the tension in that hospital room with a lightsaber, so he had to get out of there FAST. After all, he needs more to do lately, even if he won’t say such things out loud.

On the one hand, yeah, he IS happy to do other things besides fight and blow things up all the time. He’s finally bought his own paint set with the credits Cid managed to toss his way, so obviously, he’s learnin’ how to use ‘em. Already he’s tried his hand at painting a few tookas on the walls of the Marauder—red and black, of course, although he won’t exactly say no to the other colors as well—and so far, everyone seems to approve. Kriff, even Tech got so excited over his new talent that he almost dropped his datapad to get a closer look, and Tech NEVER puts that thing down. That has to count for SOMETHING.

On the other hand, though…painting and scrapping for barely fifty credits apiece seems to be ALL that he’s good for lately, because not only has he NOT had a good brawl in ages, but unfortunately, there’s been almost NO explosions whatsoever…and honestly?

The lack of any real action is becoming just so…BORING!

And if he has to be honest with himself, which he WILL—Wrecker really and truly MISSES IT.

He misses the way he and the rest of the boys could push their way through enemy lines with nothing but sheer determination and a really big ship door.

He also misses how, even though some of the locations they were dispatched to looked nothing but impregnable, they always managed to find their way in and out with barely a scratch gained in return.

And third, but certainly not least, he misses—other people. Other Troopers who not only could back his squad up in times of trouble, but also WOULD lend a hand without ever thinking twice about it. Is it SO wrong of him, then, to want SOME part of this to come back in his life?

Does it make him a giant nerfherder to wish for something else besides working for scraps from others who don’t exactly enjoy his company, let alone having to stare down the barrel of what’s left of his life and spend it in total maddening silence?

Or should he just swallow all these feelings down like they’re a tasty milkshake from Dex’s Diner, force a smile, and go on doing whatever Hunter wants…?

It’s about a minute or two later when Wrecker starts hearing voices coming from down the hall, two in total, and they sound kinda annoyed with each other. Does this mean Captain Rex is circling back around…? It might be great if he did! At least he might have somebody to vent to about his thoughts, then—that is, if Cap isn’t too busy with anything first!

“—don’t understand why—have commed—while, SIR.”

“We’ve—through this, Wolffe—utmost secrecy…”

And that’s just without the added bonus of getting to hear something, ANYTHING, about all of the Trooper rescue efforts going on behind the scenes. How wizard would THAT be if he did…?!

“I am sorry—Venator disaster, don’t get me—but it’s better if—things are kept—”

“—Who’s. There.”

All three of the men in this hall—Wrecker, Captain Rex, and a second Commander who also looks like he’s missing one eye—immediately fall still and silent, their respective focus turning to size the others up.

“Excuse me, sir, but I don’t believe we asked for eavesdroppers.”

Wrecker himself suddenly gets the feeling he’s standing before that nexu back on Saleucami, only this time, it’s learned to take on Trooper form so that it can catch human prey ten times easier.

At least, that’s the way he reads the room until Cap steps forward, one hand raised in a calming gesture.

“Easy, Wolffe, he’s a friend.”

“You’re SURE.”

“Yes. Wrecker’s—friend of Echo’s, so by association…”

“…He’s a friend of ours.”

“Correct. Now, could you PLEASE stand down…?”

Wrecker swears that he sees Wolffe’s mouth twist into a downward turn of disapproval, a lot of Troopers had done that to him before—yet, thankfully, he also must have thought things over as well, for the next thing he knew, Wolffe had let some of the tension out of the room by taking two steps back.

“There we are...thank you, Commander.”

A collective sigh spreads around the little gathering there, and Wrecker can’t help but grin a little in relief. Things are tense enough everywhere, he knows, so obviously he doesn’t want to make any rough situations even worse.

“Yeah…thanks, Commander! Er…d’ you want me to go back with the others?”

“Well, I’m afraid that depends, Trooper. What brings you out here?”

The time has come, he thinks with a little shudder, taking in a quick breath and then breathing it out again. It’s now or never, Master Billaba give me strength...

Wrecker stood up straight, made eye contact, and began to speak his peace.

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you-remind-me-of-the-babe · 1 month

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An ask game for writers to procrastinate working on your WIPs

Thank you for tagging me @ic3-que3n @theearlgreymage @wellbelesbian @shrekgogurt @orange-peony @youarenevertooold @whatevertheweather @thewholelemon @cutestkilla @aristocratic-otter @monbons @emeryhall @valeffelees (wow everyone is out here playing huh?)

🦈Tell us the name of your / one of your WIP(s)

As of right now, I’m going with Back and Back and Back but that may change.

🍄Decscribe your wip / one of your wips in the format of “___ + ___ =___”

Past flashbacks in which Baz grows up being visited by an older Simon in the woods outside his house in Hampshire + current 7th year Simon suddenly finds himself traveling back in time to visit young Baz = both Simon and Baz trying to figure out what’s happening in the present, resulting in them falling in love in a mesh of past and present

🌍What tags or warnings will your / one of your wip(s) need if you intend to share it?

Soulmates, time travel, canon divergent, Watford-era, angst with a happy ending, kid!Baz, lightly inspired by Time Traveler’s Wife.

🧭An alternative title to your / one of your WIP(s)?

I mentioned this last week, but I quite like Start at the End, even though I don’t think it technically is accurate or describes the fic.

⚠️Which wip you’re most likely to finish or update next?

Idk, this one will be quite long, but everything else in my WIP folder are just attempts at starting a premise I liked, but none of them have gotten much traction, so probably this one? Hopefully?

💾What is your document of your wip / a wip called? (not the stories actual title but what you’ve saved it as)

Time Travel AU

🖍Post Any sentence from your wip

He whistles, looking around and finally taking the time to fully appreciate the tree house.

“Did you make this?”

“With help,” I explain. “Some from Father. Mostly from you.”

His eyebrows raise in surprise. That’s one thing I’ve yet to figure out, why he forgets. Sometimes, he remembers our past visits with more detail than I do. As if they’d just happened the day before instead of years ago. Other times, he can’t remember something as big as building a treehouse with me. He reminds me of my grandmother, when her dementia had its grips on her. She’d recall something from her childhood so clearly, and the next minute, she’d forget my name.

Father didn’t want me to call attention to it in front of her. He said it would only make her more confused. So I don’t mention it to him, either. We just sort of…dance around it, without mentioning it outright. (He’d fit right in with my family, honestly.) I just clarify things and then we move on.

♻️A scrapped idea for your current WIP

I was thinking about having the Humdrum be a time traveling younger Simon, or something like that, in addition to current Simon being a time traveler. Like, they discover there’s another version of him traveling, but I thought that would be too confusing. So instead, he’s just the regular ol’ Humdrum.

🤔What’s a story you’d love to write but haven’t even started yet?

I have a lil Drabble in my head about Baz being sad while his wedding ring is getting fixed by the jewelers for a week so Simon has to cheer him up. (It me. Rubbing my empty ring finger all week while it’s getting fixed and I hate it not being there.)

🤡How many Wips are you actively working on?

Actively? I think just this one right now. There are about 4 other half starts from earlier this year when I was just throwing spaghetti noodles at the wall to see what stuck. Some of them I may come back to if I get a burst of inspiration or something.

🛠Is there a scene or anything in the WIP you are struggling with right now?

(One of) the big reveals because the scene carries a lot of emotional weight, and I want to do it right.

❤️Not a question, just a second kudos to send.

And kudos to anyone who read this far!

Anyone else want to play? @facewithoutheart @hushed-chorus @iamamythologicalcreature @ileadacharmedlife @blackberrysummerblog @run-for-chamo-miles @mooncello @angelsfalling16 @artsyunderstudy and anyone else interested! 💜

#tumblr tag game #writing process #my writing

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cat-scarr · 2 years

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Why Benkai is NOT Endgame: A Deconstruction of The Most Dangerous Ship | Catgirl

(Pun in the title absolutely intended.)

Explicit language ahead. Viewer discretion is advised.

Regardless of it being really weird that people even want this glorified abuse to be a thing...by the series' own logic, it is not and can not be the conclusive “endgame” for the main character.

And it’s not just because I don’t like it.

Let’s start from the beginning: Kai Green was the first and final love interest introduced in the Ben 10 series for the protagonist. For some, that is enough of a justification for this to be the case because, allegedly, it’s been “planned” to end up this way right from the start.

My immediate thought regarding that is that the series wasn’t actually planned ten years in advance, as you should infer from the several retcons throughout the continuing plotline. Ben 10 was a series that continued as it gained popularity, therefore something as insignificant as the romantic subplot would most likely not be prioritized in the production process that early on.

Now, the bigger issue is that, when it comes to the writing of the actual relationship dynamic...well, they basically sank their own ship. Voluntarily.

Thanks to a certain misinformed child Spanner and episodes like “The Most Dangerous Game Show,” much of the audience came to accept this was the girl our main hero was going to marry without a doubt.

I’m here to tell you right now, that, by the series’ own logic, that is not true.

I’ve explained the reasons why, canonically, the Prime Timeline can not be anchored to just one of the future outcomes introduced in the series here. But, to reiterate, all of reality exists in the form of an Omniverse. Therefore, there are several future outcomes for the main character’s future and all of them can, and do, exist at the same time.

By that logic, in regards to relationships, technically, any ship you can think of can exist in its own separate alternate universe. As is the case for the Ben 10K future where he wields the Biomnitrix, and where the relationship in question does end up happening.

But, let’s be clear, this is one alternate universe within the Ben 10 Omniverse. For all we know, things could have gone very differently in that reality, since reality can “branch off” at any point in time.

Related to that is the issue of this kid…

…whose main reason for insisting that the pairing in question is “endgame” is because he is “from the future,” allegedly, and if the pairing in question does not happen, according to him, he will suddenly no longer exist. Again, as I’ve already outlined in the aforementioned essay, his logic is not only extremely flawed, but entirely wrong.

In short, due to his reality already existing, it can not cease to exist because every reality exists within a collective Omniverse at the same time.

Therefore, claiming that it’s “endgame” because of a supposed “destiny” is also wrong.

You know what was established from the very beginning? The toxic relationship dynamic.

Let me put it this way: Do you really think that after saving the whole universe several times, and dedicating his entire life to continuing to do so...THIS is what Ben deserves? Do you have no respect for the character who was at the centre of your childhood nostalgia, who is clearly important enough for you to stick around this long, whatsoever? You really DON'T think he deserves better than THIS?

If you, the reader, are one of those people, I’m glad you’re here. Every episode they are in together has something to unpack. And I fully intend on presenting a comprehensive list of everything you need to know.

Benwolf.

I find it really funny when people think that this is the only reason the character in question is so disliked. It is, by far, the least incriminating episode for her. I mean, considering Ben was capable of making good decisions at his age during his first run of saving the world, I'd argue one should be capable of knowing better when it comes to something as simple as what you should and shouldn’t say to someone. But regardless, rejecting a guy because you don't feel the same is not inherently bad. Especially at their age.

The real problem begins two installations later once she is reintroduced within the series continuity and doesn’t at all improve from her first appearance.

An American Benwolf in London, six years later.

In which, Kai calls Ben for help after the Forever Knights get in the way of her “archaeological mission.”

Before we go any further, I want to preface by acknowledging that Ben did not have to do anything she said. His only obligation was his own job, and what he chose to do in this situation was entirely because he wanted to help.

Moving on, as soon as they land, as Ben is introducing Rook to Kai, she cuts him off and says this:

“I just called you for backup, you know.”

In case you’re not getting the picture, she was the first one to sour the mood with this uncalled for comment. As you’ll see later on, Ben isn’t the one starting their arguments, contrary to what some like to argue. From this point on, the rest of Ben and Kai’s interactions follow the same pattern.

Despite that, this episode also includes the second time in the series Ben has saved her life. I feel as though, since it’s expected of him to do so because he’s a superhero, it’s glossed over. But it shouldn’t be. Ben doesn’t discriminate on whose life to save based on their behaviour towards him. Just take a look at “Alone Together,” where Ben literally has to work alongside his former enemy (who at that point in time wanted him dead) in order for the both of them to survive. He’s very clearly able to cooperate and try to get along, even with those who were previously his mortal enemies.

But Kai clearly only directs her bitchiness towards him.

Finally, they both exclaim, simultaneously, “he’s/she’s NOT my boyfriend/girlfriend!” Enough said.

Fight at the Museum.

In which Ben is first treated as a nuisance and then emotionally manipulated into being a security guard. Don’t believe me? Here, take another look.

The episode opens with a museum exhibit, which we quickly learn is Kai’s exhibit, of course, and full of artifacts of alien origin, some of which she doesn’t even know the history behind. Which is a whole issue in itself that ties into the actual fight in this episode. Nothing Ben said throughout the exhibit tour was offensive to any extreme degree. However, despite that, the fact that he even spoke at all was enough to warrant treating him (the guy she emailed an invite to) as a nuisance.

Tell me why, then, does she change her attitude so drastically as soon as she needs him to meet her own ends?

Afterwards, they spend the whole episode fighting and then viciously denying wanting to be together at any point in the future. Ben says there is “no way”, and Kai agrees, saying “the feeling is mutual.”

I mean, it was already a dumb move to put all the artifacts she (quite literally) stole on display where criminals can easily find them and steal them (and did), so she really wouldn't have been "nice" to Ben for any other reason besides needing him for some purpose that benefits her. And Ben, always being inclined to do the right thing, couldn't say no because of two reasons:

1. If he left, and something was stolen, the blame would be put on him for not being there to help prevent it from falling into the wrong hands. (Despite that happening anyway because she put herself in that situation, not because Ben didn't do a good enough job.)

2. It's his job to protect everything and everyone. He's technically working overtime (and as a teenager), but being a hero is a 24/7 job and he's dedicated to it to the point of attaching his worth as a person to being seen as a hero and doing his job efficiently.

And then there’s the ending. Ben promises to do everything in his power to help, regardless that he and Kai have been fighting all day. I mean, can he even have every single Plumber in the galaxy on the job? That’s a big request just to make one person feel better.

But Kai turns around and doesn’t even realize this. Instead, chooses to yell in his face. I can see very well that she’s upset, and I can acknowledge that when people are upset they may act erratically, or irrationally. But, this was not his fault, and judging by the way he reaches out for her when she turns away, shows that he clearly feels guilty for not having done enough to solve the problem and help immediately.

But she completely ignores it and in the next episode, continues to put the blame on him.

The Secret of Dos Santos.

In which Ben comes to help Kai replace her previously stolen artifact literally only because someone (Kai, who else) was acting as if it is his fault it was lost in the first place. When, let’s not forget, it wasn’t.

Kai: "You owe me an orb!"

Let’s be reasonable. Ben is not responsible for her inventory. Kai was the one who had voluntarily put it all in harm's way. He didn’t sign up to be her security guard. He doesn’t “owe” her anything.

On the contrary, Kai actually does owe him something: her life, considering by this point he saved her several times. The very least she could do is be grateful, even if Ben doesn't demand that of anyone he saves. Every time he saves the world from a threat, he indirectly saves the lives of people who may not even like him, allowing them to continue to be a nuisance in his life. But, again, he doesn’t discriminate against who to save. His job is to save lives, and that’s what he does.

That being said, it seems like every vaguely nice thing she does for him is regretted instantly, as if she is looking for reasons that he is not deserving of it at all.

In this episode, Kai is searching for a temple, and once Ben comes across said temple, he makes the choice to run back to her and let her know where it is. And, that choice is important to mention, because Ben and Kai just got into (yet another) argument. Instead of allowing her to find what she was looking for herself, he chose to put their fight aside to do what he came here to do in the first place: help her out.

She was appreciative until she learned that Ben hadn’t been the first one to notice the temple, took back her gratitude, and lashed out. This was uncalled for because it didn’t matter if Skurd had noticed the temple first, it was Ben who chose to turn back and literally bring her to what she was looking for. He had still helped her out.

That doesn’t call for a face stomping.

Just because Ben can handle it, since it’s a common occurrence for him in his line of work, that does not mean he should have to put up with this sad excuse for a potential love interest treating him essentially the same way some of his worst enemies do.

Let this sink in: the only other character who’s ever stomped on Ben was Vilgax.

It’s pretty clear you don’t treat someone you care about, much less someone who has saved your life, and won’t hesitate to do so again, like literal trash on the ground.

And, if using his face as rug for her dirty ass boots wasn’t bad enough, after they enter the temple, get past the traps, leading to the three of them falling to their would-be certain brutal injury if Ben hadn’t stepped in (and done most of the work fighting off their opponents) she fools him into thinking she was going to help him up and proceeds to drop him on his ass.

For absolutely no reason, might I add, besides that it’s somehow okay, in her mind, to do this to Ben only because it’s him. She most likely wouldn’t do this to any other character unless she had some kind of aversion towards them or they were a bad guy who is deserving of it. Which Ben is not.

If everything that happened in this episode was supposed to strengthen their relationship somehow, or push them together, the fact that Kai said that Ben can "forget about all the stuff Spanner said about them being a couple someday," before storming off despite the fact that Ben was joking about it, showing that he wasn’t serious about it either...doesn’t really work to prove to the audience that it did anything besides divide them even more.

The Most Dangerous Game Show.

In which the entire episode once again attempts to push them together, eventually leading up to another character being used to try to “confirm” that they will eventually get married and live happily ever after all the shit I just outlined. Romance by force, huh? Really convincing argument.

But, as bad as that is, it’s besides the point. Even the character they use to try to further push this narrative, Charles Zenith, in the end, claims the following:

“You don’t really have to marry her (Kai). For entertainment purposes only. I'm not the villain. We’re just giving the people something they want.”

I may be reading between the lines here, but it almost sounds like they’re indirectly addressing the fandom with this line, since it’s commonly known that a lot of us are divided on certain decisions made in canon.

I want to assume that they’d be paying attention to the opinions of the people who are watching the show they’re producing, and if that audience is generally unhappy with certain decisions that can’t be undone by this point, the only way to appease them would be to make it so that nothing is set in stone.

Stating things like “this doesn’t really have to happen” within the episode, and a writer also confirming that what they’ve hinted at on screen “isn’t necessarily” the future of this character only further adds to that speculation.

Pretty much everything being done with this series is “for entertainment purposes only.” The “fun of the character” is to tell his story in many different ways instead of forcing him into a specific box. As such, the fandom also proceeds to do the same, creating endless alternate universes for these characters simply because it’s fun.

Furthermore, I have no doubt that they know the original series is extremely cherished by the whole fandom due to nostalgia, and, by extension, the original series Ben 10,000 future is also extensively praised by the majority. Them choosing to have this character say “we’re just giving the people something they want” seems like they’re referring to forcing Omniverse Ben onto the path to that particular future so early on with the whole “Ben has to marry Kai” thing, despite their questionable chemistry.

It’s like they want that possibility out there to appease certain people, but also make it so that it’s not absolutely necessary. If it was, they would have made more of an effort to make them compatible.

The End of an Era.

Where the alternate universe that Spanner came from is literally shown on screen. Proving, for a final time, that it is not “endgame,” actually.

Keeping all of this in mind, behind the scenes, the writers were likely using the multiverse plot line as a means to bring back Ben 10,000 (or introduce a new version of him, actually) because, as I said, if you’re at all familiar with the fans of the series, they love the concept of Ben 10,000.

Focusing on the multiverse allows them to insert Kai into a story taking place in an alternate universe within the Ben 10 Omniverse and (attempts) to give her an actual role besides just "love interest," through which there would then be more of a reason to then reintroduce her into the main storyline as a new "love interest", whether or not they become a thing officially and definitively.

It’s likely this was done to tie up loose ends from the series before, as opposed to shoving the story into ONE direction, because that writes them into a corner and goes against the logic they set up in the final series.

Now that I’ve gone over their history and we’re all caught up, I’ll go over some common excuses.

“Her lifestyle fits into his lifestyle.”

“Her attitude balances out his arrogance.”

"It's just teasing."

Would YOU let someone step right on your face, drop you flat on your ass into a body of water fully clothed, and take every opportunity to discredit you and just say "oh, it's okay, they're just teasing me"?

You're making excuses for what would realistically be considered bullying, at the very least, if you absolutely can not accept the use of the word "abuse" to describe this dynamic. No, that isn’t harmless. The aggression is completely intended and done on purpose.

Some people argue that Kai as a character had a lot of wasted potential. But, while I admit there is no reason she couldn’t have been written differently, I disagree. I won’t like a character just because they might have had the possibility to be something else, or something better, they were chosen to be portrayed this way. By doing that, you’re ignoring the issues I have just outlined and acting as if they don’t exist.

I realize that no relationship is "perfect," but again, that is no excuse because they deliberately chose to show us all the flaws in this pairing alongside next to nothing good, when they could have very well done the opposite. In the end, it just seems like the only point they were trying to make was what a bad idea this would be in the first place.

So, no, Ben did not “end up” with her. If that’s what you think, you need a rewatch.

And, when it comes to the future of Ben 10, I’m all for more official content, but please, let’s leave this shit in the past.

#I present The Anti Benkai Masterpost #this one's been in the drafts for a few months #but recent events have brought up the topic of discussion sooo #ben 10 #ben 10 omniverse #ben tennyson #kai green #anti benkai #benkai #essay files

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lovejustforaday · 1 year

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2022 Year End List - #4

¡Ay! - Lucrecia Dalt

Main Genres: Experimental

A decent sampling of: Dark Jazz, Chachacha, Art Pop, Electroacoustic, Minimal Wave, Bolero, Ambient Pop, Darkwave

Golly, that is some list of genre tags, huh?

Okay so this one was a bit of a late entry. Well, actually it was a very, very late entry. Meaning, I first listened to this maybe a little over a week before I started really writing the year end list. But holy crap did this ever take me by surprise.

Like many of my more esoteric discoveries, I found out about this record by religiously browsing the rateyourmusic.com yearly charts for some interesting genre tags and musical anomalies.

What else can I say? This one simply called to me, all while having no idea who Lucrecia Dalt was at the time.

Unfortunately, Spanish language alternative music does not tend to make big waves in the music hipster spaces of the Anglosphere (unless your name is Arca or Rosalia), especially something this caliber of, well, weird.

Or rather, I would say that, but then I later discovered that this was actually The Wire’s album of the year. So clearly some people in the Anglosphere have been paying attention.

But who is this mysterious artist who I speak so highly of having only known of her for a month?

Lucrecia Dalt is a Colombian musician based in Berlin, who composes music that incorporates a good mix of experimental genre infusions and sounds. Her tastes are eclectic, idiosyncratic, and iconoclastic. She also seemingly really likes earth, mountains, geography, geology, and just science in general.

On her latest project ¡Ay!, Lucrecia Dalt delivers the music of the American tropics, but highly deconstructed from the inside of a mysterious echoing cave, with eerily soft synths and strange electroacoustic modulations. The entire record is positively dripping with a dark, damp, and fluid atmosphere that is wholly captivating. I feel like there is an entire ecosystem of tiny undiscovered organisms living inside this record.

The album opens with the arresting calm of “No tiempo”, a hair-raising work of softly fluctuating organ, minimal percussion, and a clarinet that eases the listener into a sort of spellbinding daze. Strange droplets of vibrant sonic colours make tiny twinkles across the gaze of the mind’s eye as this tune slowly takes a firm hold of the listener’s imagination.

This leads into “El Galatzó”, a soft-spoken word piece accompanied by bass and trilling flutes, and an ode to the almost supernatural properties of magnetic fields and the beauty of the Puig de Galatzo summit.

“Atemporal” plays like the most uncanny chachacha music ever, as if it were the backdrop to a Cuban ballroom dance that took place in the extradimensional ‘red room’ from Twin Peaks. Bizarre in the most pleasing way.

“Contenida” is an ambient whisper of dark jazz, with a smooth upright bass and airy “oohs” and “aahs” that reverberate off of what sounds as if it were massive cave walls surrounding the entire song. The track ends with some really fascinating danzón percussion, filtered through thunderous electoracoustic production.

The penultimate “Enviada” is a magnificent climax, indeed the greatest musical climax on any record this year. The omnipresent, creeping tension of this bolero-meets-minimal and darkwave track delivers on all of the promising pitch dark atmosphere that the record slowly, subtly hints towards. This culminates in an infernal jazzy beat drop that bursts into a dazzling show of glowing blue sonic flames. All the while, Dalt is singing about the triumph of eternity over time itself. An unforgettably chilling experience all around.

The album closes with a leisurely instrumental ditty simply titled “Epilogo”, featuring a rotary organ that fades in and out of subtle modulations that serve to make the song ever so slightly off. The final notes are that of decaying, shambling clarinets which excellently ties together all of the restless, uneasy vibes that this record gives off.

Not everything here sticks with me. There are one or two spots on some of the other tracks that don’t necessarily contribute to the atmosphere in a way that moves me nearly as much as a song like “Enviada” or “No tiempo”, and there are a few instances that feel like repetition of greater moments on the record.

But overwhelmingly, I am deeply immersed in this album. ¡Ay! is the most oddly engrossing record I’ve heard this year, and Lucrecia Dalt is some kind of musical magician fooling all of us with her fascinating audio tricks. And I, at least, am more than happy to be caught in her spell.

9/10

Highlights: “Eniviada”, “No tiempo”, “Contenida”, “Atemporal”, “Epilogo”, “El Galatzo”

#Lucrecia Dalt #Ay #¡Ay!#Experimental #Chachacha #Dark #aoty #2022 #list #year end list #album review #music review #best music

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felassan · 4 years

Text

Dragon Age development insights and highlights from Bioware: Stories and Secrets from 25 Years of Game Development

Some really tasty factoids here.

Cut for length.

Dragon Age: Origins

The continent of Thedas was at one point going to be named Pelledia, a name initially floated by James Ohlen

“Qunari” was a temporary name that ended up unintentionally sticking, much like “Thedas”

Mary Kirby wrote the Landsmeet. To this day, nobody understands how it works, except possibly her. If she’s “really really drunk” she can explain how it works. There’s as many words in it as Sten’s entire conversations put together

Concept art for Thedosian art - as in in-world art - draws heavily on Renaissance-era portraiture, the Art Nouveau movement, religious styles and media like stained glass, and favorite pieces from the golden age of illustrations in the early 20th century

Andrastianism in-world (art-wise) is depicted in wildly different methods depending on who in-world made the art in question. “One religion, 3 different lenses”. There’s the Chantry take, the Orlesian take and the Fereldan take; each with its own different interpretations, different mediums and different stories

The stained glass images were drawn by Nick Thornborrow for DAI, to decorate religious spaces in that game “and beyond”

irl Viking art influenced Ferelden

Greek and Italian art influenced Orlais

The book also had other insights into and anecdotes from the development of DAO, but I’ve transcribed them recently as they’re essentially the stories DG has recently been relating on the awesome Summerfall Studios DAO playthrough Twitch streams. (On those streams he provides dev commentary while Liam Esler plays through DA. The ones with DG are currently once every two weeks. Check them out! Here’s a calendar where you can check when the next one is) Instead of repeating myself I’ll just provide the link to the first transcript. From there you can navigate to the subsequent parts. Note these streams are ongoing. At this point I will also point you to a related post which is cliff notes of the Dragon Age chapter in Jason Schreier’s book Blood Sweat and Pixels.

Dragon Age II

DAO had the longest development period in BioWare history. In contrast DA2 had the shortest

Initially DA2 was going to be an expansion to DAO. A few months in EA said “Yeah, expansions like these don’t sell very well, so let’s make it a sequel.” So it suddenly became DA2 and they had to make it even bigger, although they still only had 1.5 years of time in which to do this

Production of DA2 officially lasted only 9 months, and at the time the team was still supporting live content for DAO! They finished development that January after the design team crunched all the way through the holiday period that year. Then it went to cert 9 times

The limited time they had is why the story takes place mostly in and around 1 city, and over 7 years (so it was temporal, rather than over physical distance, because a more expansive world would have taken more irl time to make)

They had no time to review even the main plot. Mike Laidlaw pitched the idea of 3 stories taking place at different points in the PC’s life, tied together by Varric’s recollections of events. DG rolled with this and made 1 presentation on the idea. This presentation was then approved and off they went

As they were writing DG realized that there was going to be no oversight and that everything was going to be a ‘first draft’. “Because nobody had time.” He sat down with the writers and said “Look, here’s the conditions we’re working under. A lot of what we’re putting out is gonna be raw. We’re not going to get the editing we need. We’re not going to get the kind of iteration we need. So I’m going to trust you all to do your best work.”

Looking back, DG has mixed feelings on DA2. “A lot of corners were cut. The public perception was that it was smaller than DAO. That’s a sin on its own.”

Despite this he thinks DA2 has some of the best writing in the series, especially character-wise. The DA2 chars are his favorite

The pace with which production progressed may in some ways have helped. “When we do a lot of revision, we often file away [as in buff off] some of the good writing as well. Somehow DA2′s whirlwind process resulted in some really good writing”

The pace meant chars landed on the writers in various stages of completion. For example Isabela was fairly defined due to appearing in DAO. In contrast Varric at the start was just that single piece of widely-shown concept art

Varric was conceived as a storyteller not a fighter. His skills are talking and bullshitting. Hence the question became, so what does this guy do in combat? The direction was to make him as different as possible to Oghren, so not a warrior. He couldn’t be a dual-wielding rogue in order to differentiate him from Bela. But you can’t really picture this guy with a bow. “For a dwarf, it would probably be a crossbow. We didn’t have crossbows, or we only had crossbows for the darkspawn. And they were part of the models. We didn’t have a separate crossbow that was equip-able by the chars. They had to like, crop one off a darkspawn and remodel it. And that became Bianca” (quote: Mary Kirby)

“Dwarven mages are exceedingly rare.” [???]

If DAO was a classic fantasy painting, DA2 was a screenshot from a Kurosawa film or a northern Renaissance painting. (Here Matt Rhodes was commenting on art style)

John Epler: “In any one of our games, there’s a 95% chance that if you turn the camera away from what it’s looking at, you’ll see all kinds of janky stuff. The moment we know the camera is no longer facing someone, we no longer care what happens to them. We will teleport people around. We will jump people around. We will literally have someone walk off screen and then we will shift them 1000 meters down, because we’re fixing some bug.” John also talked about this camera stuff in a recent charity Twitch stream for Gamers For Groceries. There’s a writeup of that stream here

Designing Kirkwall pushed concept artists to the limits of visual storytelling, because it has a long history that they wanted to be present. It was once the hub of Tevinter’s slave empire, so it needed to look brutal and harsh, but it also then needed to feel reclaimed, evolved, and with elements of contemporary Free Marches culture

The initial plan was for DA titles to be distinguished by subtitles not numbers, so that each experience could stand on its own rather than feel like a sequel or continuation. (My note: New PCs in each entry make sense then when you consider this and other factoids we know like how DA is the story of the world not of any one PC). Later, DA2′s name was made DA2 in a bid to more clearly connect the game to its predecessor. For DAI they returned to the original naming convention. (My note: so I’d reckon they’d be continuing the subtitle naming convention for DA4)

DA2 was initially code-named “Nug Storm”, strictly internally

The Cancelled DA2 Expansion - Exalted March

This was a precursor to DAI

It was meant to bridge the gap between DA2 and DAI

It focused on the fallout from Kirkwall’s explosion, with Cory serving as the villain

Meredith’s red lyrium statue was basically going to infest Kirkwall and it would end up [with what would end up] the red templars taking over Kirkwall and essentially being Cory’s army

To stop him Hawke would have recruited various factions, including Bela’s Felicisima Armada and the Qunari at Estwatch, forcing Hawke to split loyalties and risk relationships in the process

It was meant to bring DA2′s story to an end and end in Varric’s death. DG was very happy with this because all of DA2 is Varric’s tale. The expansion was supposed to start at the moment Cassandra’s interrogation of him ended in the present. “And we finished off the story with Varric having this heroic death.” It tied things up and would have broken many fan hearts, something BioWare writers notoriously enjoy. But between a transition to the new Frostbite engine and the scope of DAI, the decision was made to cancel EM, work any hard-to-lose concepts into DAI, and in the process save Varric’s life. DG has talked about the Varric dying thing before

Concept art for EM explored new areas previously not depicted in the DA universe, with costumes that reflected next steps for familiar chars. Varric was going to war, what would he have worn? With Anders, if he survived DA2, the plan was to present a redeemed Warden

A char that vaguely resembled Sera in DAI was first concepted for EM. This fact was mentioned near this concept art (see the female elf) and this concept art of Bethany with the blond bob

The writers sketched out plans to end it with Hawke having the option to marry their LI. This included alternate ceremonies for party members like Bethany and Sebastian if the player opted not to wed. There was even a wedding dress made for Hawke. This asset made it into DAI (Sera and Cullen’s weddings in Trespasser). The dress can also be seen in DAI during an ambient NPC wedding after completing a chain of war table missions

The destruction of a Chantry was explored in concept art as it might have happened in EM. This idea ended up carrying over to the beginning of DAI. (My note: Lol, the idea that DA2 could have had 2 Chantries being destroyed in it 😆)

World of Thedas

Sheryl Chee and Mary Kirby started with “a disgusting little dish called fluffy mackerel pudding”. In the middle of DAO’s busy dev period one of them (they can’t remember who) found a recipe online for this, scanned in from a 70s cookbook. “I don’t understand why it was fluffy. Why would you want fluffy mackerel pudding?” MK says. “We loved it so much we included it in a DAO codex.”

This led them to create more food for Thedas, full recipes included, like a Fereldan turnip and barley stew from MK and SC’s Starkhaven fish and egg pie. The fish pie became Sebastian’s favorite. “To me it made sense for it to be fish pie because a lot of the Free Marches are on the coast”, SC says, “It was something that was popular in medieval times, so I thought, let’s make a fish pie! I looked at medieval recipes and I concocted a fish pie which I fed to my partner, and he was like ‘This is not terrible’”

For WoT the whole studio was asked to contribute family recipes which might have a place in Thedas. SC adapted these to fit in one Thedosian culture or another, including a beloved banana bread that localization producer Melanie Fleming would regularly bake to keep the DA team motivated. “Melanie’s banana bread got us through Inquisition”

DAI

It says part of DAI takes place in or near the border with Nevarra [???]

This game was aimed to be bigger than DA2 and even DAO in every conceivable way

The first hour had to do a lot of heavy lifting, tying together the events of DAO and DA2 while introducing a new PC, new followers etc in the aftermath of the big attack. DG rewrote it 7 times then Lukas Kristjanson did 2 more passes

DG: “Our problem is always that our endings are so important, but we leave them to last, when we have no time. I kept pushing on DAI: ‘Can we work on the ending now? Can we work on the ending now? Can we do it early on?’ Because I knew exactly what it was going to be. But despite the fact that it kept getting scheduled, whenever the schedule started falling behind, it kept getting pushed back... so, of course, it got left til last again.”

“The reveal of the story’s real antagonist, Solas, a follower until the end, when he betrayed the player”. “Solas’ story remains a main thread in Inquisition’s long-awaited follow-up” [these aren’t DG quotes, just bits of general text]

Over the course of development they had 8 full-time writers and 4 editors working on it. Other writers joined later to help wrangle what ended up being close to 1 million words of dialogue and unspoken text. While many teams moved to a more open concept style of work for DAI, the writers remained tucked away in their own room, a choice DG says was necessary, given how much they talked. All the talking had a purpose ofc as if someone hit a bump or wall in their writing they would open the problem up to the room

As writing on a project like DAI progresses, the writers grow punchier and weirder things make it into the game. This is especially the case towards the end of a project (they get tired, burned out)

Banter and codexes require less ‘buy-in’ (DG has talked about this concept a few times on the Twitch streams) from other designers. DG liked to leave banter for last as a reward because it was fun. Banter begins as lists of topics for 2 followers to discuss. These may progress over time or be one off exchanges. One banter script can balloon to well over 10k words. “The banter was always huge because we were always like, laughing, and really at that point, our fields of fucks were rather barren, so we would just do whatever”

The bog unicorn happened pretty much by accident. It was designed by Matt Rhodes and was one of his fav things to design. They needed horse variations and he had already designed an undead variant which was a bog mummy [bog body]. irl these are preserved in a much different way to traditional mummies. When someone dies in a bog their skin turns black and raisin-like. The examples we know of tend to have bright red hair for whatever reason. It’s a very striking look and MR wanted to do a horse version of this as he thought it’d be neat. 5 mins before the review meeting for it he had a big ‘Aha!’ moment, quickly looked up a rusty old Viking sword, and photoshopped it through its skull like that was how it died. “And I was like, ‘I just made a unicorn. Alright, in it goes!’” It got approved. “So we built the thing. It fit. It told a little story”

With the irl Inquisition longsword, one of the objects they tested its cleaving ability on was a plush version of Leliana’s nug Schmooples

The concept art team explored a wide variety of visuals for the Inquisitor’s signature mark. It needed to look powerful and raw but couldn’t look like a horrific wound. In some cases, as cool as the idea looked on paper, they just weren’t technically feasible, especially as they had to be able to fit on any number of different bodies

Bug report: “Endlessly spawning mounts! At one point during development, Inquisitors could summon a new horse every time they whistled, allowing them to amass a near infinite number of eager steeds that faithfully followed them across Thedas. “You could go charging across levels and they’d all gallop behind you,” Jen Cheverie says, “It was beautiful.” Trotting into town became an epic horse siege as a tidal wave of mounts enveloped the streets. Jen called it her Army of Ponies”

The giants came from DA Week, an internal period when devs can pursue different individual creative projects that in some way benefit DA. They also had a board game from one of these that they were going to put in but they didn’t have time. It’s referenced though. It was dwarven chess

Josie’s outfit is made of gold silk and patterned velvet, with leather at her waist. She carries “an ornate ledger” and she has “an ornamented collar sitting around her neck, finished by a brilliant red ruby, like a drop of Antivan wine in a sunbeam”

Iron Bull’s armor is leather. His loose pantaloons and leather boots give him agility to charge

On DAI in particular, concept artists took special care to make sure costumes would be realistic, at least in a practical ‘this obeys the laws of physics and textiles’ sense. “While on Inquisition, we thought about cosplay from a concept art perspective. Given how incredible a lot of [cosplays] are, I now am not worried about them. In fact in some cases in the future I want to throw them curveballs like, ‘All right, you clever bastards. Let’s see if you can do this!’”

2 geese that nested on the office building and had chicks were named Ganders and Arishonk (it wasn’t known who was the mom or the dad). Other possible names were Carver Honke, Bethany Honke, Urdnot Pecks, Quackwall, Cassandra Pentagoose, the Iron Bill, Shepbird, Garroose, Admiral Quackett, Scout Honking, HChick-47 and Darth Malgoose

Bug report: “The surprising adventures of Ser Noodles!” DAI was the first time the series had a mount feature, meaning this had a lot of bugs. A lot of the teams’ favorite bugs were to do with the mounts. There was a period of time where the Inquisitor’s horse seemed to lose all bone and muscle in its legs. They had a week or so where all quadruped legs were broken. It was a bit noticeable in things like nugs and other small beasties but the horse was insanely obvious. “The first time we summoned the horse [for this] and started running around, the entire QA exploration room just exploded with laughter.” Its legs flapped around like cooked fettucine, leading testers to lovingly nickname it Ser Noodles. At galloping speeds the legs almost looked like helicopter blades, especially when footage was set to classic pieces such as Wagner’s Flight of the Valkyries

For DAI the artists were asked questions like “What would Morrigan wear to a formal ball? Can Cassandra pull off a jaunty hat?”

On DAI storyboarding became the norm. John Epler: “Cinematic design for the longest time was the Wild West. It was ‘here’s a bunch of content, now do it however you want’, which resulted in some successes and some failures.” Storyboarding gave designers a consistent visual blueprint based on ideas from designers, writers and concept artists

Quote from a storyboard by Nick Thornborrow (the Inquisitor going into the party at the end of basegame sequence): “Until Corypheus revealed himself they could not see the single hand behind the chaos. A magister and a darkspawn combined. The ultimate evil. So evil. Eviler than puppy-killers and egg farts combined.”

A general note on concept art:

In the early stages of any project, before the concept artists are aware of any writing, they like to just draw what they think cool story moments could be. It’s not unusual for the team to then be inspired by these and fold them into the game as the project progresses

– From Bioware: Stories and Secrets from 25 Years of Game Development

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noforkingclue · 2 years

Note

Reader trapped between devious 13 and Valeyard (or Whittaker!Master?)? I know you don't write smut but some definite seductive fondling?

P.S: Love ALL your work! Kisses! *quiteFrenchthat*

Thank you anon! That means a lot :D

I did misread your request and made the a Valeyard x reader x W!Master. Hope you don't mind!

Title: An Impossible Decision

Doctor Who tag list: @v4n1r, @queerconfusionthings, @yourneighbourhoodclown, @love-of-fandoms, @emilythezeldafan, @fabulous-jj-style, @theseeker945, @pleadingeyes, @kjaneway1, @truthbehindthemysteries, @im-a-muggleborn, @startrekkingaroundasgard, @mythandmagik, @geocookie21, @zerocanonlywriteshit, @thewinterpoet2, @anteroom-of-death, @night467

Everything tag list: @greenrevolutionary, @imjustassaneasyou, @spngingerbread21, @layazul, @lov3vivian

The woman in front of you was not the woman you knew. A grin spread across her face as she stalked towards you, brushing a strand of her now brown hair out of her eyes. You swallowed thickly as you took a step back.

“Who are you?” you asked

“I don’t like stupid questions.”

“You told me that there’s no such thing as a stupid question.”

“Did I?” she paused and looked confused, “I don’t- oh,” she clicked her fingers, “I remember. You’re thinking of who I used to be.”

“Doc-“

“Don’t,” she hissed, “Call me that. I’m not that person anymore.”

“Clearly.”

You froze at the new voice. The same and yet so different. While it was just as cold there was a hint of something else to it. An amusement and arrogance that could only come from one person. Neatly manicured hands place themselves on your shoulders and you were roughly pulled against a warm chest. Hands trailed down your shoulders and wrapped tightly around your waist as the second person rested her chin against your shoulder. Red lips were pulled in a smirk and the brown haired Doctor gritted her teeth in irritation.

“What are you doing here?” she snapped

“Interesting,” the other Doctor dug her nails into your shoulders, “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

“Doc-“

“Sorry pet,” the other woman said, her voice clipped and icy, “I’m not your precious Doctor either.”

“Then who are you?”

“Come now,” her voice turned mocking, “You know that, my clever human. I am the Doctor’s best enemy after all, I don’t waste time on people who aren’t up to my standards.”

“Best… enemy? You’re the Master.”

“Well done,” the Master pressed a kiss against your cheek, “Clever girl. I knew you’d get it.”

“But you-“

“Alternative universes, darling,” she said, “Tearing the fabric of reality, blah blah blah. Best not to think about it.”

“Why? Because I wouldn’t understand it.”

“No. Because it’s very boring and I can think and I can think of far more interesting things I’d like to do to you.”

“No. What you’re going to do is give her back to me.”

You jumped, completely forgetting the other person in front of you.

“Then who’s she,” you asked, “If she’s not the Doctor.”

“Oh y/n,” the Master stroked your hair, “She is the Doctor but only the parts that she’d hidden from you. The person who burnt a thousand civilisations to the ground. The person who destroyed Gallifrey in the name of stopping a war. On your adventures, how many people do you think are left in her path of destruction? Who can’t go back to their families or homes because she destroyed them?”

“The Doctor isn’t like that.” You said weakly

“She is,” the Master’s voice turned mocking, “The only difference between the Doctor and myself is that I don’t pretend to be someone I’m not. Tell me,” this was directed at the other woman, “Do you still go by the same name, Valeyard?”

The Valeyard smirked and nodded. A sense of dread settled in the pit of your stomach as she walked slowly over towards you.

“And you have my human.” She said

“Hmm,” the Master seemed to be in the deep thought, “No, I don’t think I do. You see, where I’m from y/n belonged to me and I intend to bring her back there.”

“Just so you can kill her all over again.”

“No,” the Master snapped, “I’ve learnt from previous mistakes. Y/n will have a better life with me as opposed to being constantly tortured by you. Whether you like it or not, you used to be the Doctor. Do you really think that y/n will accept your ne views?”

“Can you stop speaking like I’m not here.” You said softly

“Oh my dear,” the Valeyard grasped your chin and forced you to look into her eyes, “Poor little human. You look so confused. However, it’s time for you to make a choice.”

“And believe me,” the Master’s lips grazed the shell of your ear, “Neither of us are going to take no for an answer. You’re going to have a fight on your hands, so make up your mind carefully.”

#fanfiction #doctor who #reader insert #request #whittaker!master #whittaker!master x reader #The Valeyard #the valeyard x reader

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pearlplusau · 3 years

Text

Attack of the Multiverse!! (Pink Pearl edition)

“Presenting....a new writing series! Here’s the preview of the entire story! Enjoy and thanks for reading in advance!”

*que intense chase track

A pink pearl in her latest crystal gem form, was blindly running into the darkened beach, where everything was pitch black. She couldn’t see the water, she couldn't see the sand, heck, she couldn’t even see the giant temple that should be located somewhere in front of her without any light source!

She couldn’t remember how long she ran, but it was more than her physic could take. As she slowed down, she huffed and puffed, almost wheezing from all the running.

But her break was cut short when-

A sound of blast came from somewhere behind her, controlling whatever it touched as the torn objects such as floor boards, trash cans, and giant chunks of earth levitating around the enemy figure.

As Coral raced towards the temple, which was finally visible from the bright aura of the floating gem, another figure appeared, stretching out her ballerina leg and tripped the poor pink gem.

“Ooof-“ she exclaimed as she faceplanted into the sand.

As Coral lifted her head, she saw two figures, no wait…two identical figures!

The closest figure wore the outfit she had before the rebellion, her first ever pearl form, except it's all nastified, torned up and darkened, as if someone drenched her with the colour schemes of an arch villain. Instead of buns for her hair, two shaggy and messy side ponytails wildly danced under the blowing night wind. Under her eyes was a trail of dark ink, making her look more horrifying than she could ever imagine! (She’s abandoned pearl, but let’s go with Crazy)

The other figure looked like the first figure, except she was completely greyscaled. Her entire body radiated absolutely no colour, just the dreadful shades of black and white! Her hair, too, was in a complete mess, but in a mad scientist style, where her hair looked like it was electrocuted, but more neatly and less frizzy. Anger was radiated from her twitching eye and her frozen W pose, the twitching eye was glowing with power, as if it’s holding back the power with what’s happening next!

The two of them both bore a damaged right eye, but resembled no difference to each other, they even look like-

Coral gasped, “No way! You’re…me?” as she pointed to the two Pink pearls, getting more and more confused.

“That’s right!” Crazy Pearl spoke with a raspy voice and some crazy in her eyes. “And now that we finally got you, we’ll take our sweet time to DESTROY YOU!!”

The pearl brought out a wand from her gem, and it immediately extended and sprung into a deadly, pink, glowing rejuvenator. “Once you’re rejuvenated, you can join my little army, and we’ll destroy the worlds together! Mwahhahahhahahahaha!!”

Coral was only able to whimper out, “worlds?” as the crazy gem wasted no time and brought down her pink glowing scythe!

As Coral braced for rejuvenation, a pink ribbon lashed out and gripped on Crazy pearl’s arm. The scythe was frozen in place, but it was flung aside as Crazy was yanked out of her spot! As the ribbon retreated, another figure slowly came out of its hiding.

“You won’t be destroying anything once I’m done with you!” It’s the same voice as Coral herself, but more confident and sure. The figure had Coral’s face, her hair, her gift from Pink diamond. The more obvious significance was the green dress and the placement of the gem on her forehead. The gem in green shouted, “Earl! You take that freak while I take care of crazy here!”

As soon as she ordered, the sound of a gem retrieving their weapon echoed, “SHING!” with the sound of pistol fire not long after!

Bullets were shot, all flying towards freak pearl, but a metal trash can flew out of nowhere and acted as a shield against the attack.

Coral saw the shooter come out with angered expression, as if she was annoyed of the constant blockage of her attacks. The shooter looked almost exactly like freak pearl, the only difference was one of them is a bleached floating freak while the other wore a long sleeved silk shirt with a diamond shaped cut around her gem, bright pink shorts with huge pink splatters and spots all over her body. Her grey hair buns had little strays of hair at the end, with far less cracks on her face. Earl also had the same cracked eye, but she’s looking a lot less freaky than her counterpart.

As the two pearls fought as ballerinas, assassins and shooters simultaneously, the confident pearl grabbed on to Coral and ordered, “Come on! We need to get out of here! That ribbon wont hold her for long!!”

The said ribbon was wrapping up crazy pearl with a neat bow on top, however, she looked like she could break free any moment!

“Hurry!” Coral got up and they both went to help Earl. The confident pearl pointed to the levitating gem and ordered, “Use your lance and take her down!”

“What!?” Coral questioned in surprise, “isn’t that a bit too much?”

“Trust me, it's not!”

Coral summoned and gripped her lance, aimed at the freaky pearl and threw.

The weapon was barely slapped away with the metal trash can, but that little distraction was able to give Earl the chance to finally strike and take her down!

Earl leaped into the air and performed a 10/10 somersault, she gracefully kicked freak pearl as far as she could! “Smack!”

The knocked pearl made no sound, just the sound of her SPLASH landing into the dark ocean.

Coral immediately took the chance and demanded answers from the two, “Can someone explain what is going on!?”

She looked at Earl, who, instead of speaking, did hand gestures that were clearly sign language, but Coral didn’t get the chance to study them unfortunately…

Confident pink pearl translated, “She’s saying we don’t have much time! Come one, this way!” she pointed to the side of the crystal gem temple. “There's a portal there that should lead us straight to her!”

Coral demanded as they ran, “Her who?!?”

“Coral, do you believe in alternate universes?!” Confident pearl asked.

“I do now! Seeing all of you here! Being literally alternate versions of…ME!”

“Well actually, we’re all alternative versions of the OG Pink Pearl, The original! I’m from a diamond swap universe where White Diamond and Pink diamond swapped places, I’m one of original crystal gems, without White diamonds old pearl.” C!Pearl said as Earl nodded at the side.

Earl made more hand gestures to say something, pointing to herself along with more sign language. C!Pearl translated, “That’s Earl, she’s from another timeline where she… you know what, it’s a long story, all you need to know is that we can trust her!”

“But what about the two we just fought?” Coral demanded.

“Those two? I call them freaky and crazy! They’ve been after us ever since we started portal jumping! I’m not sure where they’re from, but I’m pretty sure Crazy is from an AU where SHE was abandoned in Pink diamond’s garden instead of Spinel! As for freak pearl, really not sure here. Maybe she’s an interpretation of how powerful she could get under a diamond’s complete influence and power?”

Coral gave another quick question, “How do we know who the original Pink pearl is if we’re all from different timelines?”

“Simple,” C!Pearl said, “she’s the pinkpearl that followed the Canon timeline, where she got controlled by White Diamond and spent 6000 years as her mindless servant! Us, however, were created to avoid that specific timeline, so she’s the root of all Pink Pearl. The most important thing to do right now is to look for the first Pink Pearl!! She’s the only one that can help us get deal with our...situation right now.”

“How are we gonna get there with these two on our tail!??” Coral said as she notices more rubble floating behind her as well as a maniacal laugh echoing louder and louder!

“All we need is to get through that portal! Those two wont be able to catch up! Come one!”

The portal, swirling in pink and white star dust, finally became visible behind one of the temple palms. Within the right distance, all three pearls leaped into the portal as it closed behind them!

Shooooofwop!

End of part ???

Multiverse Pink pearl series! Next chapter coming in-

The two rogue pink pearls stopped their tracks when they found...no portal, nor any of the pearls they were fighting.

The two antagonists turned to the camera, made little chuckles and pointed at you, the reader. Crazy teased, “Look what we got here freak pearl, someone that thinks this ISNT an April Fool’s special.”

Freak pearl rotated her floating junk around her until they got to a trash can. She set the trash can on the sand and tapped three times.

Knock

There was a moment of silence and snoring, sounds like someone fell asleep.

Crazy summoned a speaker phone from her gem, placed it at the side of the can, and screamed, “HEY PEARLPLUSAU WRITER! ITS YOUR QUE!”

The writer groggily woke up rubbing his eyes, “Yawnnnn….”

He fell off into the sand.

“Heyyy there fellow readers, yes this IS an April fool’s special, a friend of mine was curious if i would write one of these and sure enough, once the idea got developed, i got straight to the writing process.”

“What was surprising is using us AU characters into his little joke writing, where are the credits you punk?!” Crazy asked in a rather annoyed tone.

"Oh that? ” The writer continued," Credits of the characters are below! You can see the images, as well as the title of the AUs. Some of the characters are linked back to the creators tumblr account, while other creators who dont have tumblr accounts are linked to original posts, like from Instagram!! ”

Freak pearl snapped her fingers for the writer’s attention and pointed to herself, asking for her origin.

“Oh freak pearl? I just thought it would be cool if there’s more than one antagonist for this special, so i kinda created you myself. The idea was, how dangerous can pinkpearl be with a diamond’s ability, and there you are! Telekinesis and mega white laser beams! Pretty cool huh?”

Freak pearl did not respond...well.

“Anyways,” the writer proceeded, “writing this was a pretty fun 1.5 hours of the time i have, not including reviewing and editing tho. If theres anyone out there that wishes to continue the story in their own way, be my guest. Just let me know so i can read it myself lol, im very interested in your take of the situation! “

April fools! And thanks for reading!

Characters (even though they’re not drawn)

Coral/Pink pearl from Pearlplusau - Original design by Tripixle!!

Crystal gem Pink pearl from Diamond swap au - Credit to @dreambigstars

Earl from WD steven au - AU character from @ask-whitepearl-and-steven

Crazy pearl (Despair pink pearl), Design from Shrimp.face (Link to their post)

Freak Pearl, no specific au named, nor from any creator. So i guess she’s my AU character?

A/N: Hope you guys had fun reading as much as i had fun writing it!

Also the real new chapter coming in probs two weeks from now.

Slightly unrelated, there might not be as much visuals as there was last chapter. The drawing pen is a bit busted.

Till then! Bye!

#suau #pinkpearl #Coral #WD!steven #Spinelpinkpearlswap #diamondswap #stevenuniverse #ohwait #iforgotsmth #april fools #happyapril1st

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royallyprincesslilly · 3 years

Text

Title: Crown For Two {1}

Henry Cavill AU x OFC Xari Thornton AU

Warning: Plot, Mild Cursing, Cheesy Christmas Themes,

Words: 6.1k

Summary: Xari Thornton is a travel photographer with a blog and social media that garners some heavy-duty traffic. People tune in to see where she is and what she’s doing there, all in hopes of either living vicariously through her or to plan their next vacation.

Her slogan; “Traveling the path to the most off-beaten places, so you don’t have to.”

Her next stop on her four destination travel itinerary of “Places You May Never Have Heard Of” is Sandvell, a small European country. When her plane makes an impromptu stop due to bad weather, she has no idea where she is. It feels like she’s stepped inside of a snow globe and back in time in a modern way. It leaves her fascinated.

This bad weather forces her to stay at an Inn, The Beaux, for the night. Rather than letting the hours tick by in her room, she explores and meets the friendly locals. While taking photographs, one local in particular captures her lens with eyes as blue as the ocean and a jaw that was chiseled from stone. They strike up conversation during their time drinking at one of the local bars, Ickles. Once they separate, she gets herself into a harrowing situation.

As soon as she awakens, she realizes she’s not in some fever dream, but a palace and the owner of the palace is none other than the local she met before with the piercing blue eyes, His Royal Highness Henry Wellington Leopold Danglishton, First of his name, Crown Prince of Brexendor.

Note: All right, all right people, the ride begins. I really, really hope you enjoy this. As a note, it’s going to be fast-paced a bit, and I am gonna overload you with pictures because why the hell not, it’s a Christmas Fic. 😁 Feel free to come by and tell me what you guys think.

As always, thank you all for reading, I appreciate each and every one of you.

If you enjoyed this, please, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!!! ❤️❤️

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

***Interactive***

***Picture Heavy***

Chapter One

“You were supposed to be on your way home.”

You rolled your eyes as you scoffed. You’d mentioned nights ago that you thought you should just go home, but then you went to your next destination. It was a moment of weakness or it could have been loneliness. Your schedule took a lot out of you. No one saw it because it was all behind the scenes. All anyone ever saw were the incredible places you went to, the fun things you experienced, and the culture you soaked up. What they grasped was whatever you posted in your pictures.

“You know I can’t. I started this series, and it’s gotten the eye of a lot of sponsors, and one of them is even talking about some really big ideas at the end of it if it goes really well. that could be incredible for my brand,” you explained.

Anika sighed loudly. You knew she was annoyed with you right now, especially it being December.

“I know you’re disappointed. I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you.”

“Whatever.”

“Attention, ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. It looks like we’re headed right into a storm. We’ll be experiencing a little turbulence as we veer off course a little bit as we try to evade this thing. Please return to your seats and fasten your seatbelts.”

You sighed while buckling your seatbelt, preparing for what was coming.

“What’s happening?”

“Going through some turbulence. It should be fine,” you assured your sister.

“Ma’am, I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to hang up.”

You nodded to the flight attendant and promptly ended the call promising your sister that you’d call her back when you landed in Sandvell. As soon as you hung up, the turbulence began. It started out with slight bumps, that you could sip your drink through. Then graduated to bigger bumps that had you gripping the elbow rests. When the entire plane started to shake, your heart leaped into your throat. One minute passed, then two, and after five minutes or so, the speaker came back on.

“Ladies and gentleman, your captain again. We’re going to be landing shortly. This storm is not one to be messed with. I apologize for the inconvenience, folks, but on this airline, we choose safety above all else.”

You weren’t going to argue with him. You definitely didn’t want to risk your life over getting to your next destination. What was a one or two day delay? Once the pilot got to a lower altitude, the majority of the turbulence subsided. It was another ten minutes before the plane landed, but when it did, all you could see from the window was white overcast with darkness.

When you had your belongings gathered and began walking off the plane along with the other fifty or so passengers, you tried to find cell service, but you had zero bars.

“Excuse me, where are we?”

“Uh—I’m actually not sure, ma’am. Patricia, where are we?”

The two flight attendants looked puzzled. The second asked a third, and that third asked another. None of them seemed to know. That was not a good sign, you thought. Once you’d walked down the long corridor that served as the connection between the airport and the plane, you found yourself in one of the classiest airports you’d ever been in, and you’d been inside quite a few as a travel blogger. As far as the eye could see, it was class, with the exception of the floor.

You looked around you and marveled at the detail in the design that was around you. Where most airports were mainly logically designed without lavishness. This one looked like lavishness was the first priority. The floors looked to be made from the finest paonazzetto marble. You remembered the name because of the substantial time you’d spent in Italy trying to capture architecture through your camera lens. Reaching for your camera around your neck, you began snapping a few frames of the floor. Getting lost in picture taking, you found yourself at one of the many glass windows snapping pictures of the airplanes on the tarmac.

Hearing the commotion of raised voices behind you, you looked back and saw the passengers of the plane you’d just disembarked from gathered in a huddle. You walked back toward them in time to catch a question from a concerned passenger.

“How long are we delayed? When will we get back in the air? I have to get to Sandvell.”

A man wearing a mixture of royal blue and white colors cleared his throat then spoke. “I apologize, ladies and gentlemen, for the delay. There is a storm heading right for us on the path to Sandvell. Continuing through it would be lunacy. Our only viable option is to wait it out.”

No one seemed to like that answer. All the questions flew out at once. All their voices overlapped, and you could tell that the gentleman was overwhelmed by not only the volume of questions but also their voices.

“According to our team here, we’re expecting possibly a twenty-four to thirty-six-hour delay.”

Everyone groaned in unison, everyone but you. You’d traveled enough to always expect the unexpected. Things like this didn’t bother you so much now, three years into your career. The only thing that bothered you now was that you’d have to rearrange your hotel plans as well as finding somewhere to sleep tonight.

“You said here,” you began with all eyes trained to you. “Where exactly is here?”

The gentleman cleared his throat again. “Brexendor.”

The crowd murmured as they looked at each other. Clearly, no one had ever heard of Brexendor. Some even pulled out their travel map to scour it for the country.

“So what are we supposed to do now? Where do we stay?”

“We are in the process of arranging accommodations at one of the inns within the capital. If you all would work with us so we have your names to get your luggage to you in a timely fashion so you can be shuttled over to the Inn, that would be appreciated.”

Everyone filed into a line in front of one of the four airport staff, hoping to hurry matters along while you searched your phone for any information on where you were. When you typed in Brexendor into the search engine, the first thing that popped up was a map of the country. Apparently, it was next door to Sandvell. They were considered sister countries.

“Population three million, run as a monarchy, considered one of the wealthiest countries in the world. Average life expectancy one hundred and ten years. Well, damn.”

Someone clearing their throat brought your attention up in front of you. You were next in line.

“Sorry.”

The woman with brown eyes and blonde hair smiled warmly. “It’s all right, Ms--.”

“Uh, Thornton, Xari Thornton.” You handed her your passport and boarding pass and waited as she scrolled through her tablet.

“Ah yes, Ms. Thornton. Here is your paperwork. On it, you will find where you can retrieve your luggage and the shuttle number that will be taking you to the Inn. Once at the Inn, just provide your name, and you will find everything has been taken care of. On behalf of Brexendor Aviation, we humbly apologize for this snafu.”

Her customer service training was on point, you thought. Her smile was warm, as if she really meant the words she’d just said. Finding it refreshing, you took the paperwork and proceeded to where she was motioning. Everyone you passed as you walked the fancy halls had a warm smile plastered to their face and even warmer words of welcome. You felt as if you’d stepped through into some alternate universe. You made a voice note about everything you encountered. You wanted to make sure you captured your authentic feelings and reactions in real-time. It made writing about your experience on the blog page easier. You’d even found that readers and supporters liked the play by play with your added thoughts. They commented it added personality.

Once you’d made it to the baggage claim area, your jaw dropped at the change in décor. There were Christmas trees that sparsely decorated the space, and they were all lit with the same blue, silver, and white theme. It contrasted with the latte color of the leather seats and the cream offset tables. The design gave the space an elegant but also comfortable vibe. When you slipped into one of the chairs, you released an audible moan. It was like sitting on a cloud.

After gathering your luggage, you followed instructions through a hall lined with Christmas trees, stopping every so often to take a few pictures before you made it to the front of the airport. As you stepped outside, your eyebrows shot up seeing the fresh snow cascading from the sky. The bite in the air had you bundling your jacket tighter, but it did not stop you from snapping a few pictures. One turned to ten and ten to fifteen until another person clearing their throat brought you back to reality and to the waiting bus ahead of you.

You took a break from pictures and called the hotel in Sandvell, hoping to alter the dates of your stay. What you expected to be a hassle and a long drawn out process ending in them saying they were booked and nothing could be done, turned out to be quick, easy, and painless. The Luxembourg Hotel assured you that your room would still be available and there would be no charge for the altered dates. You made another note on your phone, a point you had to stress when you wrote your piece.

You continued snapping pictures from the window of the bus with an easy mind. Everything you passed seemed like it didn’t belong. It all looked so old fashioned but so modern all at the same time. The buildings looked to have been standing since the beginning of time in the materials they’d been built in, but the displays were from the twenty-first century. It was the most exciting contradiction. The only word you could think to describe it was—quaint.

When the bus drove over a bridge, you got a semi-bird’s eye view of the town across the water, and your jaw nearly dropped.

“Brexendor? What the hell?”

The entire drive had you widening your eyes like a child seeing an insane amount of presents on Christmas morning. Buildings were decked out in Christmas lights, and every door had a wreath with blue and silver Christmas ornaments. Almost every few feet, the sidewalks were decorated with poinsettia trees that were half the average human’s height, and the way the freshly fallen snow-dusted their tops only made it even more perfect.

By the time the bus stopped, you’d taken so many pictures, and part of you was dreading having to go through them to choose the ones that would make the cut. You knew it was going to be a next to impossible decision. As you stepped off the bus, you felt like you’d walked right into a snow globe.

“Holy shit!”

You spun, taking in a full three-sixty view of your surroundings. all the glistening lights and the falling snow only made it feel even more magical. You didn’t know where the hell Brexendor was or why the hell they rolled like this, but you were excited to see more. When you stopped spinning, you realized several other people were snapping pictures and looking just as marveled as you were. After gathering your luggage, you followed instructions and walked across the street to the building that a friendly looking man with slightly greying hair was standing before beckoning you inside.

For the second time that night, you felt as if you’d stepped into a Christmas movie set. The interior was set so cozy. It felt like a Christmas cottage, and you loved it. Instinct had you reaching for your camera and taking a few shots of the Christmas tree in the corner by the fireplace and the plaid decorations on the leather couch. Even the pictures on the walls got a snap.

“Miss?”

Looking back to the owner, you smiled and approached the desk.

“Hi, I’m so sorry. This place is so gorgeous.”

“Thank you. I wish I could take the credit, but it is all my wife.”

Just then, a beautiful brunette came out wearing a bright red sweater and one of those spoof reindeer antler headbands that bounced with every move.

“Hi, there darling. Welcome to The Beaux. I’m Anita, and this is my husband, Borik. I heard all about your ordeal. I’m so sorry.”

You shrugged but kept your smile plastered on your face.

“It’s all right. Can’t control the weather, right?”

Anita smiled and nodded. “Definitely not in Brexendor.”

“I have never heard of this place before, and I am lost how. Everything is gorgeous and so quaint. How have you stayed under the radar?”

Anita and Borik looked at each other with an all-knowing look that you wanted in on.

“Guess it’s just happened,” Anita cheerfully said.

You knew they knew something. Staying this under the radar, including from America, didn’t just happen. This took work. You wondered who in charge in their right mind would make a stupid decision like that.

“Okay, what’s your name, darling?”

“Uh, Xari Thornton.”

“Ah-ha, I told you, Borik. Once we were contacted with a list of names that would be checking in, and I saw your name, I told him I just know she’s gorgeous and look. You are a vision.”

You couldn’t help but smile widely while trying to keep your head under proper proportions.

“Thank you.”

“You must have quite the many suitors where you’re from,” Anita continued.

You snorted and shook your head. The reality was you were as single as the number one with no prospects.

“No suitors here.”

Both Borik and Anita looked shocked, as if you’d said the most appalling thing.

“That can’t be true. Borik. She’s single and at twenty-eight. Even our Kennedy was at least engaged by the time she turned twenty-seven. Here that is unheard of. A woman is usually married by twenty-four, especially if she’s a looker.”

You pinched your lips, trying to keep your laughter in. this was not the first time you’d been called an old maid. Hell, your mother said it often, especially since you flat out turned down Maurice’s proposal three months ago. She was livid.

Anita must have sensed the awkwardness of the moment because she cleared her throat and brought all her attention back to the reservation.

“Well, your room is prepared. I took the liberty of giving you one of our prettiest rooms. Would you like Borik to carry your bags up?”

“Uh—no, I’m sure I can manage,” you began.

Borik stood, shook his head, and came around to you.

“I won’t hear a thing about it. I’ll happily carry your luggage up. Follow me.”

“That’s my Borik, ever the gentleman,” Anita filled in with an enamored smile before Borik walked off, leaving her to check in a few of the other passengers from the plane.

You listened to Borik tell the story of the Inn and how it got its name. You kept one ear on his story while you took in every detail around you. The wood looked so rustic, and you guessed that was what gave the place such a warm and welcoming feeling. The higher you climbed, the more you saw, and the more you saw, the more you liked. You followed Borik down a hall, noticing that all the doors you passed had mini wreaths decked out in the same blue and silver ornaments like at the airport and throughout the streets.

“Ah-ha, here we are,” Borik said before he put the key into the lock and pushed the door open. Once he did, the scent of cinnamon and pine hit you in the face. It was like the hand of Christmas came out and smacked you.

“My wife loves the smell,” Borik explained as you stepped inside. You smiled and thanked him for his help.

“If you get hungry, you have a few options. There are plenty of places nearby you can eat some authentic Brexendorian food, but also my wife cooks every night, and dinner usually is at eight o’clock, but tonight Anette has agreed to keep some heated for anyone who would like some. It’s stew, rabbit.”

“Oh, thumper. Wonderful.”

Borik laughed loudly with that one. “I know that one, Bambi, the children’s cartoon. Good one Ms. Thornton.”

You smiled. “You can call me Xari, Borik.”

“Well, have a good night,” he said before he walked out.

Finally alone, the first thing you did was text your sister to let her know not to worry and give her an update on what was happening. After you let Anika know what was happening, it didn’t take long for your phone to ring. The next ten or so minutes were spent talking to Anika and telling her how amazing the things you’d seen so far were. You could not shut up about the decorations, the way the snow looked to have been groomed to lay on things perfectly. It was that damn picturesque. Since you couldn’t stop talking about it, Anika was the one to suggest you go out and enjoy it before you got back on the plane. It was a suggestion you fully intended on listening to.

Fifteen minutes later, you were back downstairs bundled with your camera and your purse, ready to explore. When you told Anita your intention, she gave you a map of the city and highlighted places to look at but cautioned you to hurry because stores would be closing soon, and nights during Brexendor winters could be brutal. You promised you’d be quick and careful, then stepped out, ready to explore like Dora.

Your first stop was a block down, a children’s toy store. It was decked out with all the latest toys along with some traditional things that Santa would have brought specially made from his workshop. While you were snapping pictures outside the window, a kid ran up to the window and pressed his nose to it. His eyes were wide, and his mouth matched their size. You asked the adult with him if you could take a picture. When they approved, you got one or two from a few different angles before they walked off.

As you walked through the city, enjoying the scenery, you took pictures of everything that caught your eye, ornaments, trees, people, stores, even pets. Christmas wasn’t your favorite holiday, but it was your second favorite, and being here really as inching it higher on the list.

When you felt a strong wind hit you, it stopped you in your tracks. It was strong enough to have you stagger backward a little, allowing a chill to sweep through you. You looked around and saw a few feet away was some sort of bar, and behind it was swirling snow that looked like a tornado. You hurried toward the building, being careful not to slip on any ice that may be hiding underneath the snow. Once to the door, you walked inside, and the sound of Christmas carols filled your ears.

“Jesus.”

If the scent of the Inn felt like Christmas slapped you in the face, the look and sound of this place was the one two-hitter that settled that you were in a whole nother world here. You looked around and found a coat rack along the left wall. After placing your jacket and scarf on the hook, you walked to the bar and slid onto a stool. As you waited for the bartender to come over, you looked around. Here it didn’t smell like cinnamon, but the pine was present, along with the smell of alcohol and licorice.

There were several small dark wooden tables around the bar with chairs and even booths that decorated the walls. The floors matched the tables, and those matched the walls. This place looked like somewhere you’d find in the middle of nowhere. The window to the back of the establishment showed the dark woods with tall snow-covered trees and that howling snow tornado.

When you turned back to the back, the huge elk head above the wall lined with alcohol bottles had you gasping.

“Jeez,” you said as you snapped two of three pictures of the creepy looking thing.

“That is Hogan’s prized possession.”

You looked beside you where the voice came from to see a very attractive man there. When you’d sat down, you didn’t notice anyone beside you, so to see his piercing blue eyes boring holes into you. Your eyes traveled lower to his awkwardly shaped nose. It looked like it had been broken once or twice and never quite went back to normal. You didn’t mind it, though. Who liked a perfect face, especially when looking at him, seemed like that was about the only thing that was not absolutely perfect. His jaw was carved to precision like he was specially crafted and not born. When your eyes fell to his lips, you purposely forced yourself to look away.

“Is—is that right?”

“Yes. I bet you cannot guess why,” the stranger said in a crisp European accent that was very close to British. You weren’t one hundred percent sure if it was or not, he just sounded proper as hell, and it was actually a bit of a turn on.

You shrugged while looking at the bottles that lined the back of the bar. “Enlighten me.”

Just then, a large man with blond hair in a man bun walked over. He had to have been over six feet tall, and if this were America, he’d definitely be a shopper at the store Big & Tall. The man looked to the one seated beside you, ready to speak but suddenly closed his mouth.

“Hogan, Ms--,” the stranger began waiting for you to fill in your name.

He thought he was so smooth; you thought as you smiled to yourself.

“Xari.”

His eyebrow shot up, and he smiled sweetly. “Wow, what a beautiful name.”

You smiled, and as you felt it widening, you bit onto your bottom lip to stop it. “Thanks.”

“Ms. Xari would like to know why Shandoe is your most prized possession.”

“Shandoe?”

Hogan looked behind him at the Elk’s head then smiled. “It’s been in my family for generations. It was the first thing my great-great-great-great-great grandfather ever killed for himself to feed his family. They ate everything but the head and decided to keep it as a reminder of where we came from.”

You were expecting some weird manly story but what you got was a wholesome and heartwarming tale. You smiled, raised your camera, and snapped Hogan, and as he stared at the Elk’s head with such a loving look on his face that was such a contradiction for his large frame.

“Are you a reporter?”

“No, no. Not at all. I’m a travel influencer and blogger. I go around and soak up what the world has to offer while taking pictures and writing about it on my blog for others to read about.”

The man beside you nodded, then raised his glass to his head.

“What can I get you?”

“Uh—what is he drinking?”

“The Mistletoe Bomb.”

You snorted, unable to contain yourself any longer. “What in the world is that?”

“You laugh now, but it is a blend he makes special for me. It is not for the faint of heart,” the man beside you informed.

“Oh no, well looks like I’ll be having one of those.”

Hogan looked to him, then back to you. “It is all right, Hogan. Give the lady what she wants. I am assuming fell strength is also what you require?”

“Yes, full strength. I want all the mistletoe and all the bomb.”

Hogan went to work, making the drink while you continued looking around.

“Em, I’m Henry.”

You looked to him to find his hand outstretched to you, waiting for you to place yours in it. When you did, you repeated your name as you noted how soft his hands were. It felt like he’d never done a day’s work with them. Henry rose your hand to his lips and placed a soft kiss on the back of your hand. It was one small action, but that action had butterflies flitting in your belly and your cheeks heating as if a heater was aimed directly at your face.

“I am delighted to make your acquaintance,” Henry uttered while looking into your eyes.

“Same,” you whispered.

Henry released your hand and turned back to his drink at the same time Hogan placed a mug before you.

“One Mistletoe Bomb for the lady.”

You looked at the large mug then to Hogan, who waited expectantly. When your eyes drifted to Henry beside you, he too was watching and waiting. No matter how much you felt like this was a setup, you persisted, not wanting to back down. When you took your first full mouthful of the drink, your eyes immediately bugged. Your tongue was on fire in seconds, and it seemed the longer you held the liquid in your mouth, the worse the burn was. You gulped it down and instantly knew the mistake. Not only was your mouth on fire, but now your throat and chest as it burned a fiery path to your belly.

“Holy fucking shit!”

The two men boisterously laughed, the sounds booming off the wooden walls before filling the entire room. You looked around, noticing for the first time it was completely empty.

“What the hell is that?”

“Something that will put hair on your chest,” Hogan teased.

“No, shit.”

Henry seemed to like that response; he laughed again then finished his mug.

“How can you drink this?”

He shrugged, then turned his body to you. You gave him a well-paced once over, taking in his furry winter boots, dark pants, and dark sweater to match the pants. Underneath the sweater, though, you saw peeks of a crisp white shirt. He dressed like he had money, you thought.

“I have done it for half my life. I do not even feel the burn anymore. Do you know why he calls it Mistletoe Bomb now?”

You giggled and nodded, pushing the mug away. If you drank that, you’d need to be carried out of here. As Hogan appeared to take the mug away, Henry reached for it, insisting he’d finish it while Hogan placed a beer bottle in front of you.

“Would you like a straw?”

You looked at Hogan as if he were crazy. Who drank beer with a straw? You shook your head and raised the bottle to your lips to take a swig. This was more your speed, not pure petrol.

“So you are new in town,” Henry began.”

“Kind of. My plane had to detour because of the storm, so here I am in a place I’ve never heard of and cannot figure out why.”

“Is it strange to never have heard of every place in the world?”

You thought about it for a moment as you took another mouthful of beer then nodded.

“Yes. I’m from America,” you began.

“Ah, American. Let me guess. Everything has to be discovered, and if it is not, then either it doe not exist, or it is being hidden.”

You snapped your mouth shut. He’d guessed American thinking in one try. “Well, that’s not fun,” you added. Henry laughed and took his mouthful of fire.

“I am sorry. I know America well,” Henry informed.

“Oh, so you’ve been?”

“No. I do not need to. I have spent my entire life learning it.”

You looked back at him, confused by what he meant.

“Every country gives lessons on other countries of the word, especially powerhouse countries,” he explained.

“Well, your studies have paid off.”

“Do you really believe that everything has to be discovered?”

“No. where is the fun in that? I believe that the world has to have some mystery.”

“Then welcome to Brexendor,” Henry said with a smile.

“Brexendor. What’s it’s deal?”

You leaned closer, resting your elbow on the wood of the bar as you watched him.

“Deal? I am afraid I do not understand.”

“What I mean is, the people are nice. Everyone I have encountered, including at the airport, is nice. You know airport staff can be so mean, but not here. The people who own the Inn I am staying at are so sweet. Even strangers I bump into don’t;’ seem to mind. Not to mention, this place has the whole snow globe effect down. It’s incredible. What is the deal? Is the president some fantastic guy who pays everyone well and gives them ample vacation time for them to be so happy?”

Henry smiled, dipped his head lower, then rubbed the back of his neck.

“Would that be unusual?”

“Yes. Compared to what America has going on—highly unusual.”

“Well, the first thing to know about Brexendor is, a president does not run it,” Henry clarified.

“Ah right, it is a monarchy. So does that mean there is a king, and queen, lords, dukes,” you began, then gasped, remembering more. “Princesses?”

Henry smirked, gulped his drink, then nodded. “Yes.” He continued to take another swig from his mug.

His words slowly resonated. “What!? You’re serious?”

He nodded, then placed the glass onto the bar.

“Wow. How interesting. So this King and Queen are they the good kind?”

Henry’s smile turned somber before it disappeared altogether.

“Did I say something wrong?”

“No, no. Yes, the King and Queen are the best kind,” he filled in before he took the last mouthful of his drink. “They would like you.”

You laughed loudly and shook your head. “Me? I doubt that. While all the mothers of my boyfriends have loved me, I don’t think the King and Queen would care for me.”

“Boyfriend, so uh—you’re involved,” Henry said as he avoided your eyes.

His words sounded like a statement rather than a question, so you remained quiet. After a few moments, he looked at you expectantly. You pinched your lips before you finished your beer.

“Are you involved?”

Henry took a deep breath looked forward to the bottles at the bar as a pained and confused expression washed over his features.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” you replied.

“I am not—involved,” he answered.

“You said it like you weren’t sure.”

“It is complicated.”

“Well, I am a stranger in a bar—an empty bar. You’ll most likely never see me again, and I’ve been told I’m a great listener.”

Henry smiled then turned back to you, resting his elbow on the bar mimicking your stance.

“You have not answered my inquiry.”

“Inquiry?”

Henry smiled again, then bit his bottom lip. That is where your eyes went to. He had nice lips, you thought.

“On if you are involved,” he clarified.

“I am not involved with anyone. If you ask my mother, she will tell you I’m an old maid with no prospects.”

“I do not believe that. You are funny, intelligent, fun to be around, and quite beautiful. There is no way you have no admirers.”

You smiled and began toying with your necklace.

“I’m sure you say that to all the girls you meet in deserted bars during a snow storm.”

He snorted, and you felt his breath across your cheek. It was then you realized how close the two of you were to each other.

“To be honest, I have never found myself alone with a woman in a bar. You are my first.”

You bit your bottom lip feeling more flirtatious than usual as you gazed into his hypnotizing eyes. He was gorgeous and becoming even more so with every passing minute. The two of you ordered more drinks, then drifted off to one of the booths on the wall that was more hidden and even more comfortable. You talked about nearly everything and nothing at the same time. He spoke a lot about philosophy and astronomy and the sciences that motivated a lot of the earlier theories. It was fascinating just listening to him speak. There was something about his mouth and the properness of the words he used. Never once did he use slang or even a contraction. You’d never met anyone who didn’t use contractions. The longer you sat there, the more you felt like never getting up.

“There is something about you that is so comfortable and easy,” Henry began.

“You too.”

“I feel like I can talk to you about anything. I even want to.”

You smiled, “You too.”

Your eyes lingered, and you saw him sway forward, but then he stopped only to do it again and again. With your faces were centimeters from one another, it was then you noticed the slight speck of brown in his left eye. You felt Henry’s hand gently cup your cheek; then, his thumb slowly stroked your skin. The heat from his palm seared your cheek, and every stroke of his thumb send heat tendrils down your jaw to your lips, making them tingle and yearn for his.

This had never happened to you in your entire life. You’d known this man a few hours and were ready to possibly bring him back to the Inn with you. Henry didn’t move. It was like he was giving you the last few centimeters to make a decision, but you didn’t make it. A phone went off, but you both ignored it until the sound went off. You raised your hand to rest on top of his. Once your skin touched his, Henry lightly sighed out. Before either of you could make another move, a phone rang again. This time Henry groaned before he looked away just as you did.

You cleared your throat and slid from his body as he checked his phone.

“I have to go,” he announced.

Frozen, you sat there trying to understand if you’d read this entire thing wrong.

“I am sorry, something—urgent has come up.”

You snapped out of it, then nodded. “It’s fine. I should probably get back to the Inn anyway. They say a storm is brewing.”

Both of you stood from the booth while straightening your clothes.

“I really enjoyed tonight,” Henry added.

You smiled and nodded. “Me too. It was—nice.”

Your eyes lingered again, and your bodies drifted closer. It was you who looked away first and stepped back. You reached for your purse, but Henry stopped you.

“It has been taken care of. Let us call it a tourist special, right Hogan.”

“Right your--,” Hogan began before Henry looked at him, cutting him off.

Henry ushered you to the coat rack on the wall by the door then helped you into your jacket.

“Can I drive you back to the Inn?”

“No, please. I am more than capable of getting back,” you assured.”

“Are you sure?”

You nodded then turned to walk out, but Henry pulled you to him. “I want to see you again.”

“I don’t see how. I leave tomorrow as soon as the storm passes.”

Henry looked to be thinking before he sighed. “I guess it was not meant to be,” you whispered, a tinge of sadness filling you as reality set in.

“In another life,” Henry softly said.

He came closer then placed a slow, chaste kiss on your cheek before he released you. The two of you stared at each other for a few moments, and in those moments, anything felt possible. When you faced that anything could have been possible but not for you, you sighed. A few seconds later, you turned and walked out of the bar.

Once outside, the rough wind caught you off guard. You took a few moments to bundle yourself, then continued walking back to the Inn. The swirling snow in the air made it a little challenging to see, but you tried the best you could. Several times, the wind picked up and shoved you where it wanted, forcing you to grab on to something to hold until it passed.

Suddenly a big gust of wind blew you to the right and knocking you off your feet to roll for several feet. When the wind slowed, you rolled over onto your back to spit out the mouthful of snow that you’d managed to ingest. It took you several tries to stand, but when you did, you tried to see where you were and what direction you needed to walk in. That was when the wind picked up again, making you scream. When you turned, you saw two headlights coming right at you, then all you felt was pain before you were out cold.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

***If you want to be tagged/untagged please SEND AN ASK SO IT WILL BE EASIER FOR ME TO KEEP TRACK OF. Thank you for reading!!!***

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TagList:

@caramara3 @chaneajoyyy @caplover22 @shinebrightlikeafanbase @queenoftheworldisdead @liquorlaughslove @night-of-the-living-shred @dangerouslovefanfic @areubeingserved @maxcullen @jovanaprime @pananegra @bakarilennox @littlepreciousangel @shar74nett @pananegra @laketaj24 @blackgurlkillinit @maeleeme @live-laugh-love-ki @mary-ann84 @mery-be

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#crown for two fic #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x black reader #black fanfiction #royalty au #slow burn fanfic #christmas fanfiction #henry cavill x black ofc #cheesy christmas fic

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lovelivingmydreams · 3 years

Text

The worst possible thing.

*stares at this long and hard.* Fine!

@kingcreativityau you know who is responsible for what comes next.

Yes @hunter-with-a-tardis I'm looking at you

Janus was pacing the floor. He didn't like this one bit.

“What's taking him so long?” he wondered aloud.

It was a rhetorical question and the sides who were sitting here waiting couldn’t answer him even if it wasn't. No one liked this plan. It hadn't even been a plan. It was half an idea Logan and Janus would have dismissed at once if Virgil hadn’t been in the room and overheard Janus mumble about it. Harnessing Virgil’s given powers and undo what king had done.

It was too risky to even consider. Janus didn’t need Virgil to point out all the ways it could go very wrong. To everyone’s shock Virgil came with a solution though. He'd take king up on his offer and finish the gallery, ask him to teach him to get control over the shadows. If king took a liking to teaching, which Virgil thought he might, he'd keep doing it and eventually Virgil could lift the curses and they all could get back to helping Thomas.

Janus had wanted to argue. Sure king enjoyed instructing others in skills he felt more proficient at. He recalled King teaching him to duel not too long ago. He also remembered what happened after the student caught up though. King storming away and then, after he'd managed to get out of king's obstacle… how he'd been cornered, the panic the punishment for daring to upset the king in any way. No this was their mess. Virgil was not yet on king's bad side. That was a card they couldn't waste on something that risky.

But Logan had been writing and Janus was convinced he'd say something similar. And Virgil was more likely to listen to Logan so he'd waited.

He should have known Logan would never just dismiss any idea out of hand.

Somehow they'd all agreed to see if Virgil could get a first lesson. And soon Virgil left them to practice with the king every day. Which should be a comfort right? King clearly enjoyed the activity and he was not suspicious of anything. That was exactly what had Janus worried now.

Because king wasn't the only one enjoying the lessons. Sure Virgil still seemed terrified of the man, but whenever he returned he was deep in thought, sometimes with a small smile on his face. The one that said: I just did something right.

He'd been looking at them oddly too, like he was figuring out a complicated puzzle.

Something was off but Virgil refused to talk about it. Something about a promise he made.

A click of a pen echoed through the mostly empty space and Janus' head snapped up.

Logan needed his attention.

He was scribbling down something as fast as he could and handed it over. Janus read it over. It was a long ramble, but it came down to one thing.

“I do have faith in Virgil. It's king I’m worried about. One perceived slight and…”

Janus touched the mark on his face. The memory of it's creation very vivid in his mind.

“Aw, you do care,” Virgil's voice came from behind him. Janus whirled around.

Something about what he saw took him back, to a time when he had two misfit friends who didn't hate him. Before the fight.

Maybe if was that mischievous smirk or the way he carried himself as if he couldn't care less what other people thought. Except now he really seemed to mean it.

His clothes weren’t back to normal by any means. They were upgraded though. From a dark version of Roman's original outfit to one reflecting the fitting in upgrade. Except Virgil wore a few medals pinned on his vest. As well as applying Virgil's black and purple with white detailing color scheme.

He also wore a dark purple hooded cape instead of a sash.

Most startling of all, he looked genuinely comfortable with it all.

“Virgil? Is that you?” Janus asked.

Virgil nodded, still smirking. “Indeed it is,” the deep terrifying voice of the King boomed and suddenly he stood behind him hands delicately resting on the youngest side’s shoulders.

But Virgil didn’t even flinch.

“Dear Anxiety made so much progress, I felt he deserved a promotion. I offered him the title of Prince,” king summoned a dark crown in his hand only to immediately clench his fist and make the image disappear. “but he is so loyal to those he considers friends he wouldn't even consider to take my light half’s title,” King praised fondly. He stroked Virgil's hair for a moment. “So he is my head counselor now on top of creative minister. And you should all be happy to know, he made a plea on your behalf.” King waved his hand and suddenly Patton was six years old.

“Wha… I can talk?” Logan gasped astonished.

“You explain the conditions to them. I have to get back to work.” And just like that, King was gone.

“You did it?” Janus asked perplexed this was too good to be true.

“King did. Don't take his generosity for granted,” Virgil warned sternly.

“Virgil, kiddo…”

“You shall not address me like that!” Virgil hissed, his voice booming, twisted and sinister, a dark aura flaring up, making them all step backwards in shock.

Virgil took a deep breath. “Names are for friends and allies. After what I heard… you’ll have to earn my trust back,” he explained a little calmer. They all froze in horror. King told him… of course he did. He'd have to be a fool not to.

“These gifts have conditions attached. Morality you can get back to your own age with good behavior, the reverse is true as well though. Logic your voice can not speak ill of the king and what you do say about him will find it’s way to us.

Any and all communication to the king must go through me. You remember my shadow?” the creature in question appeared next to Virgil.

“He'll… assist you when I am with the king. Ask him if you need to ask me or king something. Oh and fair warning….” Suddenly they all fell to the ground. Crushed by guilt and fear and desperation.

“I’ll do anything to protect Thomas from having to live without us ever again. I won‘t permit you to anger the king. Understood?”

They all nodded as they whipped at their tears.

“Good. Dismissed.” When they looked up Virgil was gone. Only his shadow remained. The creature stared back at them looking heartbroken. “I’m sorry,” it whispered.

“This… might be the worst possible thing,” Logan muttered as he helped Patton up. While the two oldest sides discussed their situation Janus stared in horror at the tragic looking shadow.

How could he have let this happen?

Janus opened his eyes. He was sweating, his heart was racing. What was real, what was a dream? He looked around. He was in his room. He got up to his knees and tapped a rhythm neither he or his neighbor had heard in years. Virgil used to wake up from nightmares like this. Not sure about reality and scared to leave his room. So they came up with a system. Notes weren't an option when you didn't want to turn on the light and alert Remus someone was awake to play with him. So they made up their version of Morse code.

‘What is going on' was always the start of such a conversation. It was just a long series of rapid light knocks. The first reaction, ‘I hear you' was a flat palm against the door. Then you wait for the other to respond. Virgil's response was quicker than he expected.

‘Patton. Small. Logan. Silent. Twins. One.’

Janus nodded. He hadn't dared to hope that all of it was a dream.

‘you?’ he asked. Though he doubted if Virgil could know what to tell him to assure him he wasn't currently being tutored by king. ‘Scared. Confused. Angry. Sad.’

Janus bit his lip. Virgil didn't use the code for pupil. If there was any real plan like in his nightmare Virgil would mention it. He’d been on the other side of these conversations often enough. Yes, everything was… well not fine but not as horrible as he'd feared. All he had to do to keep his dream from happening was not leave Virgil alone with the king. And… maybe figure out how to tell Virgil what had happened all these years ago.

Janus got ready to knock. There was a knock that meant to convey empathy. To be a comforting reminder that Virgil was not alone. But halfway through he remembered another pattern. One Virgil would always close the conversation with. It was almost an alternative for goodnight in these conversations. But it meant ‘Sorry’. Janus' scales stung with the thought of that word. But if he knocked the pattern… it wasn't the same right?

He took a deep breath and started out with: ‘Thanks.’ He readied his hand it was just three knocks long… But the very thought was agony

‘Welcome. Good night.’

Janus sighed as he heard the reply. Perhaps another time.

‘Good night.’

@moonlightshow00 @naturallyunstablegamer @alias290 @meowthefluffy @antiredhuman

#sanders sides #ts sides #virgil sanders #janus sanders #king creativity #kingcreativityau

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thecoffeelorian · 3 months

Text

The Transport On The Left, #4

Title: The Transport On The Left

Chapter: Four

Genre: Drama/Mystery

Word Count: Under 1k

Characters Included: Crosshair, Echo, Hunter, Tech, and Wrecker.

Brief Description: "Cross is instantly drawn back into his own memories without a sound, back to a nameless, darkened room where nothing but sound and faint pinholes of light can be found. It's here that someone covers his face with one of these blankets, almost like they're allowing him the first real moment of rest he's had in what feels like months--but then, their next surprise comes."

Warnings: There will be mentions of torture/waterboarding in this chapter. Please avoid this if you know your health will be affected in any way, and thank you.

AO3: Click Here

No-Pressure Tags: @megmca @ladykagewaki @talesfrommedinastation @carlycrays @melymigo @momojedi @mysticalgalaxysalad @moonstrider9904 @slenderboo @localcryptid3 @spacemagicandlaserswords @littlefeatherr @gun-roswell @alabyte @sw-2020-1 @lukascastelan @omglisalithium @skellymom @me-thestarwarsfan @donut1642 @thats-cacti @gray-paladin @idkwhatdoyouwannabecalled @im-not-the-me-i-use-to-be @storminormins @wendywilliamsleftlip @danger-noodles22 @ladylienda @marvel-starwarsfangirl @theosb0rnway and...pretty much anyone else who's kinda had enough of certain Troopers looking like they'd un-alive each other if Omega wasn't watching. ^^; I guess I have to do everything around here, so here's the overture to ALL these stubborn Fett boys having to learn to discuss deep topics, and NOT wait for Omega to tell them!

Special Notes: This divider was created by @djarrex , and so I give all credit to her. :)

One // Two // Three // Four // Five//

(Quick Author’s Note: This story is paying NO attention to the people behind the Twitter curtains. So...for what it’s worth, I’ll do my best to keep the explosions to a minimum, if you get my drift. ;)

Four

The next several minutes tick by in a slow crawl, for this decommission site's newest "visitor" sees no real way to respond to this latest cell in a lifelong succession of cells other than with complete silence. It's been like this for him ever since his decanting day, after all, so it's probably not so out of the ordinary to think that this little fact of life could ever change. Not when the original versions of these Hulls already turned their Deeces upon him, and so drove away any lingering dreams of home. Nevertheless, the Hulls themselves decide to play at being happy, and so force a series of half-hearted smiles onto their faces right after they wheel him inside. Crosshair pays them no mind, though, for he slowly becomes far more focused on the room around him.

Standard, Republic-made medbay; medium size; sleeps two to a room with one other patient here residing. Medbay monitor beginning to flicker repeatedly due to end of shelf life; must alert the nearest available staff. Medbay itself appears to have been cleaned and sanitized recently, though a few faint bloodstains remain visible upon the edge of this blanket, origins unknown-- "...drink?" —What...? Focused enough, even, to very nearly miss the question posed to him by the skull-faced Hull. "I, er...wanted to know if you needed something to drink?" Drinks. Sure. THEY had officially stopped giving him drinks, never mind also food and medicine, as soon as he'd woken up on that operating table. In fact, since it was nothing less than kriffing stupid to even ask him such a thing, if only for the idea that nobody else would have bothered to feed him at this point...he had zero second thoughts about ignoring it. "Okay...that's a no. Got it." In response, the ashen Hull walks past the other three Hulls to a small compartment in the wall, inside of which he finds an extra regulation blanket. He easily picks this up with one hand before returning to Crosshair's bedside, the steady whirr-thump of his footsteps sounding upon the oar. "How about this, then?" Cross is instantly drawn back into his own memories without a sound, back to a nameless, darkened room where nothing but sound and faint pinholes of light can be found. It's here that someone covers his face with one of these blankets, almost like they're allowing him the first real moment of rest he's had in what feels like months--but then, their next surprise comes. Water. Not a slow, steady dripping from a faucet in any corner, but a quick wet plume of it right upon his covered face. Direct. Harsh. Enough to seep through the fabric, into his eyes, down his nose and throat, gagging him-- —Where is the female clone?-- —Making him struggle to breathe, forcing him backwards against the headboard as he gasped for air-- "—All right, all right, I'm sorry! Hell of a time to ask!" "—Corporal, I do not believe that this method is effective--" "—Then fine, let's skip the effectiveness and get that other med droid in here--" "—AW, JUST MOVE IT!" ...And then, the tallest of the Hulls suddenly pushes his way past the others, almost knocking the Skull-face right off his feet as he goes off to grab something upon the floor before anybody else can stop him. "Here, Crossy. Think y' just dropped this." Indeed, before anyone else even has the wherewithal to respond... there's something soft--and yet sturdy--placed behind him in order to keep from banging his own head against the wall. "Wrecker, what are you--" "—HELPING." And out of all these Hulls and their stand-offish approach, it's this one who first reacted to his low state, who actually had the nerve to stop muttering and do something about it--but why...?! "Somethin' you all forgot how to do...but never mind." He doesn't get a lot of time to think this through, because before he knows it, this tallest Hull of the batch is pushing his way through the others, a growing scowl evident upon his face as he goes. " 'M going to go find Fireball. Don't comm me until 'Meg gets back." ... Ooh. Ooh. In spite of the way that neither he nor these others ever saw that one coming, however, Crosshair himself begins to find this experience a bit more interesting than the meaningless chatter of the other three. Within the span of five minutes, this one seemed eager to do more than just stand around, whereas the rest of this group didn't do much else besides ask questions and look terribly lost. In fact... against his usual cold attitude and somewhat better judgment, a faint but curious thought has already crept into his head, if not also come along in search of a true answer. Just who was that mystery Trooper...?!

#star wars #the bad batch #the bad batch fanfiction #clone force 99 #go wrecker go #alternate titles: clearly i have to write everything around here #alternate titles: can we stop trying to inspire all the schoolgirls and start letting the troopers talk?!#FOR FETT'S SAKE--#tbb: the transport on the left #wrecker's gonna wreck

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scone-lover · 3 years

Text

Happy Birthday to Holding Out For a Hero!!! ❤️

art by @subparselkie

I published the first chapter of my longest and most popular fic just about a year ago! And I bet you always wanted to see some shitty outlines. Right? Just giving the people what they want. My brain is chaos and now you all have to be subject to it. Strap in, boys. 😂 Everything’s below the cut!

Read Holding Out for a Hero on AO3

This fic was born because I saw a tumblr post about a hero and villain who are roommates and I just had to Snowbazzify it. I had so many random ideas in my brain, and I’d been engaging with fan content for the CO fandom for a few months now.

So I started off by opening a blank document and writing the Prologue, featuring Shep. I had a few basic facts in mind: Shepard’s a reporter, Simon’s a hero, Baz is a villain, Mage is an evil mayor. And that’s. Literally it. I made it up as I went along. I actually still do that with fics, even though I do try to outline in more detail now—I have to write a scene or two that’s been bouncing around in my head to get a feel for the story, then I can give it a direction.

The document is 337 pages on google docs, LOL.

Here’s the first ever set of notes I had. I wrote this on March 29, 2020, directly after typing out the Prologue!

Like I said, absolute chaos. The third Simon bullet point originally said something like “also I’m a superhero and only Penny knows,” then the following day I changed it to “but he’s so handsome? what do???”

I didn’t publish the prologue until writing 5-6 additional chapters, but I think the only major change was going from Baz being “The Vampire” to just “Vampire.”

Chapter 1 was originally called “not a bloody avenger” before I decided to do the rhyming thing. I actually decided that because I wrote “counter spray and earl grey” down for chapter 2, unintentionally rhyming it, and then @ashspren-writes was like, “you should make them all rhyme”... so I did. 😂 For 25 more chapters.

I have a section labeled “quickie backgrounds” in which I finally sat down halfway through writing Chapter 2 (the blade/vamp fight) and said to myself, okay, maybe they should have backstories or something. Or like, reasons for being the hero and villain. Right, yeah, those would be good to make this into a coherent story. In the first version of that, Simon was a sports coach on the side, not a baker, and Baz was an English teacher. LOL.

Once I had all that, I literally just wrote for four days. There’s a weird kind of magic to your first-ever fic for a fandom. All your ideas and thoughts and wishes for these characters comes to a head as you suddenly have an outlet for the first time. It’s why I think people’s first works are often their best or most creative or most profound. The first couple chapters took some time and a couple 1am epiphanies, but once I got into a rhythm it was quick going. I wrote a lot of it in a linear manner, but after writing the first Simon/Baz scene (watching the news together in the flat), I doubled back and added Simon going to Penny’s house after meeting the Mage so that I could work her in as a character earlier.

Fast forward to April 5, I had 5-ish chapters written? I thought this fic would have like... 10 total. And be less than 20k. Haha. Ha. I asked @ashspren-writes to beta read for me - I’d been bouncing ideas off her since the beginning - and then I started brainstorming titles.

The list actually started with that second one. It took a whole 24 hours to decide on the final title. 😂 I thought it might be too cheesy. But hey, it worked out -- now I can’t open AO3 without the damn song getting stuck in my head.

I worked a LOT with my friend @ashspren-writes on this fic - we were friends long before fandom, and she was the only person I knew at the time who had read CO and was involved in the fandom. I didn’t even have a tumblr at this point, I interacted mostly through Instagram and AO3!

On April 6, right before I posted, I realized that if I was going to actually put this on AO3 I should probably know where the story was going. So I made sure Chapters 1-6 were complete, then I wrote one bullet point per chapter up until 12 or so -- you can read those below.

Then I texted ashspren THIS mess:

Some silly notes:

Then I have a section that says “Why do they even have roommates?” because it was a few chapters in and I hadn’t justified richboy Baz and superhero Simon... living together. Cool cool cool

I also did this cool little writing experiment I want to share. Remember that line in Fangirl that’s like—“Once Cath wrote what she thought was a swordfight, and Wren turned it into a love scene.” (Or maybe it was the other way around? LOL.) Anyway, there’s swordfights in this, AND love scenes, so I wanted to do a play on that for two alternate ways Simon might figure it out.

I have a huge Deleted Section in which I wrote an alternate version of Simon and Baz finding out about their secret identities. I have one version where Baz figures it out first—it’s a very tropey yet angsty scene where Simon comes home totally wrecked from a fight, and Baz realizes as he’s helping with the wounds that he caused them. I actually like it a lot, but it ended up not quite fitting with the vibe of the fic (and I rather like them finding out through kissing better). :) I also had an idea where Simon figures it out because Vampire smells like cedar and bergamot, but it really just wasn’t interesting enough. 😂

Now onto... Outlines.

I say that hesitantly because I think these are literally a disgrace to outlines everywhere. These are the baby ones I wrote on April 6 right before posting. Some are more detailed than others, clearly...

Gotta live up to my username somehow.

We do love to see it.

I love this next one: 😂 CHAOS, SCONEY.

THEN, I wrote this as a very long text to ashspren, when I realized no sconey, this is not going to be under 20k words. LOL.

And then I did A Dumb Thing and I put it on AO3, having absolutely NO CLUE WHERE THE STORY WAS GOING. 😂

This is my favorite heading on the document.

Another one of my favorite notes in there.

This next part wasn’t even divided into chapters yet, it’s just a word vomit. I’m so sorry you have to read this mess.

Hahaha, once upon a time there was angst in this story. 😂

And then I realized my true calling: bakery fluff.

Then and only then, I actually decided to divide into those things called Chapters. This is the point where I made the admission to mr scone (boyfriend, not husband lol, we just call him that) that I write gay fanfiction, whoops, and can he please help me because he’s a HUGE DC comics fan and knows everything. And of course, he was super chill about it, and he did. He really did. He’s the genius behind Egghead!!! And also the entire Mage-Humdrum-Supercomputer/Politics plot. I’m serious. I did none of that.

I can’t even say I’m trying anymore. “Flort”??? I AM LITERALLY NOT TRYING.

Why yes sconey, so very specific. 😂

This is what qualifies as a “good” outline for me, that heading was just for my betas. Isn’t it fabulous to see that some of this actually made it in and I’m capable of planning in advance? 😂

Get ready for the shock of your life, though -- I actually have a SUUUUPER detailed outline for the two finale chapters. Because, well, it’s the finale. Wrapping up loose ends does actually require planning, WHO KNEW. Also I’d been writing and posting for a couple months at this point and it had been several more weeks in quarantine so maybe I’d regained some sense of reality? It’s like two pages but still shittily written, so I’ll just share a couple tidibits.

That bullet point is extraordinarily cracky BUT actually, Baz shooting up from the cloud like an awesome fucking hot dramatic person was one of the very first scenes I envisioned for this fic :D

I hope you enjoyed this glimpse into my writing brain! It’s a terrifying place. I love all of you that say Holding Out For a Hero is a well-crafted masterpiece, but respectfully, no ❤️

(Though I swear I AM super, super happy with how it turned out - it’s still my favorite thing I’ve ever written. Read it here!!!)

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ravs6709 · 3 years

Text

Our Very Own Story- Queerplatonic Fedex

Alternate title: I project so much onto Fitz that he's probably ooc

Woo, I'm finally done! I've had this idea for so many months, but I never had the chance to actually finish it, but finally, it's here (in all its 7.3k words glory)

This story takes place in the same au as Our Very Own Melody, which is the (romantic) Kam side. OVOM isn't necessary to read to read this one, but it's still my fave work, so read it anyways

But here's a refresher. Soulmates au in high school. Soulmate bond is having a strong bond similar to telepathy and empathy combined, and can only be revealed once the soulmates are close with each other.

Ve/vem Dex and she/ae Biana because yes.

And also, Fitz, Keefe, Tam and Linh are in the same grade, and are all one year older than Sophie, Biana and Dex.

Warnings: censored swearing, and mentions of (a character from a play's) death

Hope you enjoy!

•~•~•~•~•~•

Fitz remembered the days that he played the piano. He still played it in the present, but not to the extent that he had in the past. He used to constantly play it, something that he was partially forced to do.

It wasn't like he didn't enjoy it, because he did. He'd started at a young age, and as he grew older, he found himself creating parts to songs. Just a few notes, maybe long enough for a verse, he didn't have the same passion to create music like Keefe would using his violin.

If anything, he preferred to write lyrics. He liked being able to tell stories with words. It was at the end of elementary school where he'd realized that it wasn't writing music that interested, but writing in general. He had so many ideas flowing inside of him, and a powerful imagination.

When middle school came, he started to explore some of the possibilities. He tried poetry, but while it was fun, it wasn't his thing. He particularly enjoyed writing short stories for English class. He didn't spend that much time focusing on writing though, he spent most of his free time hanging out with Keefe, Biana, Sophie, and rarely, Dex.

It was in eighth grade when Biana practically forced him to watch the school play with her and Sophie. (Keefe, for some reason, had been allowed to decline the invitation. That alone made Biana's intentions suspicious).

From start to finish, he was amazed by what he saw. The play was one that he'd heard of, but didn't know the plot to. Each movement of the actor was a sentence in his head, he could see the words written down on paper, ready to be acted out. He knew that script writing wasn't as simple as that, the formatting was different, but still he was curious.

After the play was over, the three of them started walking to take Sophie home. "So, did you like it?" Biana asked.

"It was good," Fitz replied. "The lighting was really great."

That was another thing that made script writing different compared to writing a short story. When writing something to be acted out, you had to be able to imagine the scene, know what kind of lighting would be needed and what special effects were needed in order to emphasize something, or in order to make something happen.

"It was great!" Sophie agreed. "Dex did a really good job behind the scenes!"

"Wait, Dex was involved with the play?" Fitz asked.

He'd met Dex back in elementary school, but they never actually spoke to each other until a few months ago, when Sophie befriended them. But even now, even though they'd hang out at his house, he hadn't really interacted with Dex that often. (It did explain why Dex wasn't with them either).

"You didn't know?" Biana asked. "I mean, ve hasn't talked about it much, but surely you should've known. Vis knowledge of technology is really good."

Fitz hadn't actually witnessed it for himself, but had heard about it. But the stories couldn't do it justice.

•~•~•~•~•~•

After Sophie had gone home, the two siblings started to walk to their home.

"So, what about playwriting?" Biana asked.

"I know you brought me to see it for a reason," he told her.

She crossed her arms. "Do I have to have a reason?"

"Knowing you, yeah."

Ae huffed. "Rude. What would I even have to gain from introducing you to a form of writing that you might enjoy?"

"Oh, I don't know, like asking for a favour such as doing half of a project?" He was still a little bit bitter for having to do that.

"That was one time!"

"One time too many!"

•~•~•~•~•~•

Fitz was glad that his high school had a talented drama club. Every year, his school participated in the city-wide festival. The thought alone was exciting, and he knew that unlike in middle school, it was the students who wrote the plays. He wanted to be part of it.

It also sounded a little stressful, because it was no longer just a school play, but a piece of art meant to represent the school. Actual professionals would be there to judge the play. And this was going to be his first time doing this. He knew though, that it was going to be fine. He wasn't alone, there was going to be a whole playwriting team to create the play.

Unfortunately, luck decided not to favour him. While there were multiple teachers in the drama department, it was the head who would deal with everything. Except the head of the drama department had gone on maternity leave, meaning that the school wasn't going to participate in the festival for that year. While it would be rude to be annoyed at the teacher, he was still a little upset, because he'd been looking forward to it.

The year itself wasn't bad, he enjoyed it a lot. He'd managed to get most of his classes with Keefe, the only differing one being their art course, where Keefe went with music, and he chose drama. His classes were entertaining. Sophie and Biana had started dating, and the hangouts at his house only grew more frequent.

There were also the Song twins. He wasn't necessarily friends with Linh, but they shared a few classes, and she was fun to be around. Sometimes they ate lunches together when Keefe wasn't around. Tam, on the other hand, he knew nearly nothing about, other than the fact that he usually kept to himself. Or at least, until Keefe had managed to start a rivalry with him, and then they started serenading each other with their violins. Their rivalry was a big source of entertainment, and he and Linh would often discuss the fact that they clearly liked each other.

All of those things definitely made his first year of high school a good one.

•~•~•~•~•~•

Even without the fact that the head of the drama teacher had returned from maternity leave, his second year of high school was eventful. Biana, Sophie and Dex had joined them, meaning that he got to see them more often.

He walked into the drama club room to get his form to join the drama club. He was surprised to see that Dex was also in the room.

"Hey Dex," he greeted. "Didn't expect to see you here."

"I normally do backstage stuff, did you forget, Wonderboy?" ve asked.

"Oh yeah, that's right."

He was reminded of when Sophie had told him that Dex was part of the backstage crew during middle school. He made a mental reminder to not forget, because while he hadn't intentionally been rude, he had been rude to vem in the past. He wanted to be a better friend than that.

"But actually," ve continued. "I wasn't actually going to be a part of backstage this year, I was thinking of being an actor."

"You like acting?"

Fitz was pretty sure that Dex had never mentioned being an actual actor before, but if he had to be honest, he wouldn't have been surprised if ve had. He'd already forgotten about vis involvement with the drama club.

But to his surprise, Dex flushed red, one of vis hands moving to scratch the back of vis neck. "It's not something I've brought up. I kinda have stage fright, so I'm trying to face that fear and do something that I want. Even if I get a minor role, I'll be happy."

"You should go for it!" Fitz told vem. "I'm sure you'll do good on the stage!"

Ve smiled sheepishly. "Thank you."

•~•~•~•~•~•

Along with him, there were four other people who signed up to be a playwright. He'd only recognized one of them, since they'd been in the same class the previous year, but he wasn't friends with any of them. They were nice people though, they were quite calm, compared to his friends. (Keefe, Biana and Sophie made a dangerous combination).

Playwriting was interesting, because it was different compared to what he was used to. He was aware that it wouldn't be the same, but he wasn't expecting how different they would feel. There was little focus on description, and there was no flowery prose at all. The descriptions that were there were short and simple, just enough for the actor and backstage crew to know what was going on.

It was a little hard getting used to the formatting, because he had to remember to capitalize the names, and there were a lot of small details that he needed to remember. But it was okay, because he had the other writers with him.

•~•~•~•~•~•

"So," Dex said. "How's the play going?"

"We're mostly done with the script, but we've been told the script is too short, so we're just adding on to it." This was one of the few times that ve had been the one to approach him, and he had a feeling that he'd be interacting with vem more often. "We've decided on a subversion of the classic high school story, you know what I'm talking about, right?"

Ve scrunched vis nose. "New girl goes to high school, befriends two popular guys- but sometimes one of them is a childhood friend- and gets into a love triangle with said guys? Plus, there's probably a mean girl? How could I not know? What changes have you made?"

"The mean one isn't actually that mean, and fae gets together with the main character."

"Ooh, do the two popular guys get together?" ve asked.

"One of them is enby, but yeah. The writers have been having so much fun making everything queer."

"Holy sh*t, that does sound like fun! Last year me would have killed to see something like that, when I was questioning myself."

Fitz had been starting to come to terms with the fact that he was aromantic, but he could definitely see where ve was coming from. Even if there weren't any confirmed characters on the aspec spectrum, he was always happy to have characters who were queer.

•~•~•~•~•~•

"Crapcrapcrap," Dex muttered under vis breath, pacing back and forth as ve waited for Fitz to get his lunch out of his locker.

Fitz took out his lunch, then closed the locker. He turned towards vem. "Try to breathe," he suggested. "If you get too panicked now, that's when the mistakes are going to happen. Do you want to take a minute to sit down and breathe?"

Ve glanced back and forth between him and the staircase they'd need to climb to head to the club room. Reluctantly, they sat down.

"It's not like they won't start without you there, right?" Ve asked.

"It's not like you'll be late. What do you normally do to calm yourself? Do you want me to hold your hand? I know Keefe likes that."

For a moment, he wondered if he was overstepping some kind of boundary- because they still weren't that close- but ve smiled sheepishly, and looked down at the floor. "Maybe… that would be nice. We can try that."

Ve gently held his hand, and Fitz noticed that his hand was warm, compared to his own cold one. They sat like that for a few moments, until vis shaky hand became more stable.

"Okay," ve said, but it came out as a breathy whisper. "I think we should get going."

Ve let go of his hand, the warmth slowly fading away. He liked the feeling of holding vis hand.

They went to the club room, where the auditions were being held. Dozens of students were trying out for the various roles, and he felt a little proud, knowing that people wanted to act for a play that he helped to write.

He watched the students try out, and they were all so impressive. He was glad that he wasn't actually part of the group that decided who was casted and who wasn't. He may have been a writer, but the writers weren't in charge of the auditions.

Soon it was Dex's turn- ve was auditioning for one of the teachers in the story. The teacher that ve was auditioning for was someone lenient, a good friend to the other students. The teacher would often jokingly tease the students in the class.

Seeing Dex on the stage, it was almost as ve had become a new person. He knew that obviously, being able to act in a variety of roles was what an actor was supposed to do, but it was like seeing a side to vem that he'd never seen before.

Everything, from the tone of vis voice, to the grin on vis face, to the very slight change in posture was better than he could have ever imagined.

Fitz was sure that if ve had gone for a lead role, ve would be able to steal the show.

•~•~•~•~•~•

"Dex, that was amazing!" He told vem, after ve had finished the audition.

"You… you think so?" Ve murmured, looking a little flustered. (Wait, flustered?)

"Yeah! You were great up there!" He replied, choosing to ignore what vem being flustered could mean.

"It- it was only the audition."

"You'll be getting more practice, it's like…" he paused, trying to find the words. "A preview. If the preview is good, the full thing will also be great."

"If you say so."

"I know you'll do great."

•~•~•~•~•~•

Dex had managed to be casted in the role, and both Fitz and Dex were happy. Dex had to practice vis lines, so Fitz offered to be there to listen. At first, ve seemed hesitant, out of the fear of looking bad, but eventually they accepted the offer.

At first, it was a little awkward. Dex seemed to have difficulties making eye contact with him, and when ve did, ve would seem to lose concentration on what ve was saying. It wasn't just a lesser version of stage fright, because it started to extend to their normal conversations too.

(He was starting to have suspicions, but he hoped it wasn't the case. He didn't want to have to think about that.)

But slowly, ve became more comfortable talking to him. The confidence that had been evident during the audition started to return. Once again, Fitz was in awe.

•~•~•~•~•~•

"These plays are so good," Dex murmured.

Fitz nodded in agreement. At the festival, various schools presented their plays. Each of them were different- one was fantasy, with kingdoms and people trying to survive, another depicted a local issue, and another about what it means to be a family. They were all about different topics, but each of them were spectacular.

"What if ours isn't as good?" Ve whispered.

"We've worked hard on it," he answered. "We'll make sure it's good."

He offered his hand to vem, something that he started doing often after the first time. Ve took it, and they sat on the seats holding hands until it was time for their school to set up everything.

"I have faith in you, okay?" Fitz whispered as ve stood up.

"Thank you." Ve smiled, then left with the other actors.

Fitz looked back towards the stage so he could enjoy the show. Since he wasn't an actor, he didn't have to get up. The play began, and even though he'd seen it multiple times, it still looked impressive. The jokes didn't fail to make him smile.

After it was all over, ve sat back down next to him.

"You did great up there," he told vem.

Ve smiled at him, vis face shining with joy. (Part of him wanted to just smile back, the other part wanted to back away, because of all of these feelings. Instead, he shoved the conflicting feelings away, he could think about them another day.)

•~•~•~•~•~•

It turned out that he didn't get the chance to think about his feelings another day. The two of them lived nearby, so after they were brought back to the school, they decided to walk together.

"Hey Fitz, can I tell you something?" Ve asked.

"Sure, go ahead."

Ve stopped walking, then turned to face him. "I have a crush on you. I've had one since last year."

Despite the fact that he suspected this, he was still shocked. "What?"

"I don't expect you to return my feelings, but I thought… after the play, I finally have the confidence to tell you."

"Since…" he murmured. "Since how long?"

"Since last year," ve replied. "In the beginning, I honestly hated you. I thought you were a spoiled jerk, but I learned that you aren't that, and then my crush happened."

"Oh," he breathed, feeling a little overwhelmed. "I'm sorry, I don't feel the same way."

"It's okay, I just wanted to get it out," ve said, but he could see vis disappointment. "Oh, my house is that way, bye. Good night."

Fitz watched as ve walked down a different path, and he knew that they didn't have to part ways until another few minutes. He felt something like dread build up within him, and he couldn't help but think that he messed up.

•~•~•~•~•~•

After the confession, Dex started to keep vis distance, and Fitz hated it. He liked hanging out with vem, it was nice and comforting. It was like how they were in the beginning of the year, before they finally interacted with each other.

Whenever they had their group hangouts, Sophie, Keefe, Biana and Linh would sit in between them. The distance between them wasn't that huge, but he felt like it was just going to grow more.

It also didn't help that he didn't know how he was feeling. He thought that he had it figured out, he didn't have any romantic feelings towards vem. But every once in a while, he caught himself staring. Dex had seen him do it more than one time, and ve would be the first to look away, looking a little upset.

It would hurt, wouldn't it. I rejected you, and now I'm staring at you. I wish I had an answer for you.

However, he didn't, so he kept quiet and continued to stare longingly.

•~•~•~•~•~•

"Okay, what's going on?" Biana asked, slamming his bedroom door open before slamming it shut again.

"What are you talking about?" He asked, hoping that ae wasn't referring to what he thought ae was about to say. "And careful with the door," he added, hoping to get aer off topic.

"Hah, nice try with that, but I'm referring to you and Dex," She replied.

He flinched. Damn it, she's too perceptive. And now she'll definitely know! Well, guess I've got no choice but to tell her.

"We haven't been dating," he explained. "I'm just… ve confessed to me and I'm so confused. I thought… I thought I was aromantic, but all of a sudden I just can't help but look at vem." He sighed, then ran a hand through his hair. "Ve's avoiding me because I rejected vem, except I don't know what my feelings for vem are anymore."

Ae sat down on the bed next to him. "Okay, first off, if you're aromantic, that's great. If you're not, then that's fine too. I can't tell you what you feel, but I can sympathize. Do you remember at the end of elementary and during the beginning of middle school, I kept clinging onto Keefe?"

He nodded.

"Well, I thought I had a crush on him."

"Wait, really?" That was something he didn't know.

"I know better now, I was just admiring someone who I thought was cool and was also pretty. That sounds like a crush to you, doesn't it?"

He nodded slowly.

"Well, it wasn't," she stated. "There's more to a crush than just thinking someone is pretty, otherwise, I'd be crushing on half the school. There's this… feeling inside of you, you feel warm and fuzzy. You find yourself wanting to be with them often, you want to go outside and explore the world with them. You might want to be closer with them than anyone else. That's how I've felt."

He considered that, then tried to compare it to what he'd been feeling.

"It's… similar, I think," he explained. "I like being with vem, and I regret choosing to ignore vem at first. I wish that we could've grown closer before." He closed his eyes, and pictured vem, sitting next to him, their hands linked.

He felt warmth, before it faded into confusion. Biana's explanation seemed right, but he felt like there was something that he was missing.

•~•~•~•~•~•

Since it was summer vacation, it meant that Fitz didn't have to go to school every day and see Dex. While they had hangouts often, Dex often had to babysit vis younger siblings, so he didn't see vem too often.

It was probably a good thing, it meant that he could try and figure out his feelings, without the source of said feelings being around to make everything complicated. (Though, it wasn't really working). At least though, he could figure out how to make things less awkward, because the others were starting to notice something was going on, and he didn't want to be the reason that the atmosphere wasn't pleasant.

He spent a lot of his free time playing the piano. He'd been doing less of it lately, but once he'd started playing not as an obligation, but because he wanted to, he found that playing it was a good stress reliever. He could immerse himself in the light sounds of the piano, distract himself from all the confusion he felt.

Sometimes though, when he played the piano, he thought of the songs that he often heard- whether from school or just Biana- and murmured the lyrics. He tried playing the songs that he knew were about romance, because maybe he could figure out how he felt about the experiences that other people had.

He was still conflicted though. Some songs it seemed like the person was oddly possessive over the one that they loved, the feeling of love so strong and intense and suffocating. Whatever he felt towards Dex was strong, but not like that. Other songs were a lot more casual, talking about how the warmth that came from being with the one you loved.

He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. He really hoped he could find an answer, and soon.

•~•~•~•~•~•

While he had no answer, interactions with Dex did become easier. He wasn't sure if it was because he was getting used to what he was feeling, was coming closer to figuring it out, or he was just getting better at suppressing his feelings.

The next year of school had started, and it meant a new play for the drama club. Both him and Dex joined the club, just like the previous year.

Most of the other playwrights were people he was familiar with from the previous year, but there was a new face. This year, they agreed on something less realistic- superheroes. It was interesting to see how the story evolved, from a joke about the main character "Grey" being morally grey, to adding two antagonists with strong superpowers, which then ended up focusing less on the main character, but more between the relationship between two siblings. It was absolutely incredible to see what they were able to come up with.

Coming up with a plot was only the beginning though, but this time, he had more experience writing, so he was able to contribute even more to the story.

Writing the dialogue could be difficult sometimes, as some of the lines felt too dramatic, or not emotional enough. He tried saying them out loud, but he wasn't that good at voice acting, so he sounded too robotic for his liking.

"It sounds like you're writing something for the play," Dex said during one lunch. "Do you want me to say it out loud for you?"

Fitz was surprised by the offer. Whole they were talking more, it was usually in a group. So for Dex to be coming to him, it meant that their friendship could be better.

"That would be nice, thank you. I'm trying to write a monologue about the mayor, addressing the people about how his sister betrayed him and has been working for the rebels. But right before that, it's his reaction to the betrayal."

"Is he angry, or more sad?"

"Bit of both, and then when he makes his speech to the audience he reveals an invention that'd be used to stop the rebels, so while he's calm, he should also sound vaguely menacing."

"Is the mayor the villain?"

"It's complicated. The mayor's sibling has superpowers, while he doesn't. He fears that the powers are going to cause him to lose his status, so he creates laws that impact people with powers. Those people then rebel so they can have proper rights, sometimes violently, which to the mayor, proves that people with powers are a threat. The mayor also has been looking into an invention that can get rid of powers, because he wants to "cure" his sibling."

"He does awful things for the sake of love," Dex guessed.

"Exactly. Oh, here"--he turned his phone screen so ve could see the screen--"the script is here for you to read."

Ve started off murmuring, trying to get a feel for the scene. As ve re-read the scene over and over again, ve spoke louder, emotion seeping into vis tone.

"Thank you Dex," he said, after it was over. "That helped a lot.

"No problem. It was fun."

The bell rang, signaling the end of the lunch period.

"I've got to head to class now, see you later!" Without thinking, Fitz leaned towards vem, before he realized what he was doing.

Was I about to kiss vem on the cheek?

He couldn't tell if it was just instinct- he always kissed his mom on the cheek if either of them had to go somewhere- or if he genuinely wanted to show affection like that.

He abruptly turned away and quickly left, not daring to look back and see if ve had noticed or not.

•~•~•~•~•~•

It turned out that Dex hadn't noticed the almost-cheek-kiss, and Fitz was relieved. But it did get him thinking. If he and Dex were to date, would he be comfortable with kissing vem on the lips? He knew that for the most part, kissing was common in romantic relationships. After a few moments of thinking, he decided that he didn't want that.

It wasn't like a switch had been flipped (he knew that kissing wasn't required in romantic relationships), he did finally begin to have his answer.

His hangouts with Dex slowly began to go back to normal, as they fell back into the dynamic from before the confession. Except this time, there was less blushing and being embarrassed, because this time, there wasn't a crush to hide.

Sometimes Dex acted out the scenes he helped write. They didn't do that too often though, since Dex was going to audition, and ve didn't want to have any sort of advantage.

It felt nice to be with Dex, it was comforting and fun. When he tried imagining Dex dating someone, he found that he didn't mind that too much, as long as they'd be able to hang out together (he was annoyed by the fact that he hadn't tried to imagine that earlier).

•~•~•~•~•~•

"Hey, Dex," Fitz called out. "About the confession…" Despite having his answer, he was a little nervous, because neither of them had actually ever discussed the confession or the aftermath.

Dex blinked, then pursed vis lips. "What about it?"

"I know I did already reject you, but well, you know about the stuff after… I was confused. Because I like being with you, and I'll admit, you look beautiful, but I'd been unable to actually figure out if it was romantic attraction or not. It wasn't, so here's my official rejection. Hope it doesn't change anything between us again."

There was a pause, then ve snorted. "You do know that you already rejected me, right? I mean, I get what you're saying, but I've been working to get over you. Hasn't quite worked yet, but I'm not devastated or anything."

"That's good, I feel better about this."

"Your explanation also makes sense, I mean, it took me forever to realize that I don't like girls. Attraction is confusing."

Fitz laughed. "You can say that again. I'm aromantic, but I think part of the confusion is that I like the idea of romance."

"So when you have someone confess to you," ve continued. "You're wondering if you should have accepted the confession."

He nodded. "Exactly."

"And we'll continue to stay as friends, right?"

"Yeah, that sounds like a good plan."

He could always figure out more of the details later.

•~•~•~•~•~•

With everything settled, Fitz and Dex grew closer. Auditions for the play drew near, and the actors were instructed to think about who they were going to be playing.

"I kinda want to play the mayor?" Dex said. "I mean, I've seen very small bits of the dialogue from other characters, but I did have fun doing that monologue the first time."

"You should do it then," Fitz told vem.

"Yeah but… it's a more major role, and I'm scared of messing it up. I haven't really had much experience in the main cast, let alone as an antagonist."

"I'm sure you could do it," Fitz said, putting his hands on vis shoulders. "Your acting helped me, and I'm proud of how far you've come. Worst case scenario, you don't get the role, but you know how nice our teacher is."

"She is nice," ve agreed.

"So you know she won't be harsh."

"I guess, yeah."

•~•~•~•~•~•

The scene that had been used for the audition wasn't one that Dex had read, which made Fitz feel a little bit better, because the last thing that he wanted was for vem to make it because of an unfair advantage. He knew that ve'd feel guilty about it.

The scene was when the mayor's sister left to secretly join one of the rebel meetings, and then he talked to himself about how much he hated the rebels and how he was going to make sure that his citizens would be protected from those who had superpowers.

The edge in Dex's tone was similar to how Fitz had imagined the mayor to sound like- sweet, but it was clear that the mayor was menacing. The reasoning was somewhat noble, to protect the citizens, but what wasn't considered was that people with superpowers were human too. The mayor was the one who ended up causing damage, while trying to stop the damage from happening.

He thought about the ending, and wondered how it would look like for Dex (or another actor) to perform during the end, when everything that the mayor had done led to the deaths of his sister and his friend (well technically, the friend actually lived, but at the time, he didn't know that). The mayor would go through a revelation that everything he was doing was wrong, and he needed to fix everything.

The actors who were auditioning all seemed capable of performing the role well, and Fitz wondered who would make it.

•~•~•~•~•~•

Dex managed to get the role of the mayor, and just like the previous year, Dex often practiced in front of him. Without the fear of crushes, it meant that ve was significantly more comfortable, and ve was able to do a better job.

There were points when ve got nervous, but Fitz was there to help encourage them. And despite the fact that he'd done this before, he watched vem practice in awe, because he still couldn't believe that he was able to watch this, watch someone put so much passion into acting out something he helped to write.

It felt like all of these emotions were contagious, because sometimes, it almost felt like he could feel Dex's own emotions. When ve did the monologue about being betrayed, he could feel that heartbreak and anger.

Or if Fitz was in a good mood, it spread to Dex, vis voice would sound just a little bit lighter, and during their group hangouts, ve'd talk a little bit more than usual.

The opposite applied too- sometimes Dex came to school, angry at vis siblings. While Fitz wouldn't feel irritated, necessarily, but he did find himself needing a little more quiet.

Fitz wondered if that was just them being in tune with each other, or if it was the work of something more. (In his first year, he'd joined the strings ensemble to play the piano part, and had witnessed Keefe and Tam's rivalry, but nobody could deny that when it was time to be serious, they played really well. While neither of them had found their soulmate, he wouldn't be surprised if they were.)

No matter what it was though, he knew that he was glad that he made the decision to befriend Dex.

•~•~•~•~•~•

During some of their free time, Fitz and Dex would hang out in his room and watch tv. Ever since all of this, he found himself focusing more on the writing when it came to the shows.

Sometimes what they watched was simple, others weren't. Some were cartoons, and some were play adaptations to some of the shows he'd watched before.

"Do you ever think about what you'll be doing in the future?" Fitz asked.

Dex nodded. "Yeah. It's hard to imagine it, though. Is there anything you want to do in the future?"

Fitz laid down against the bed they were sitting on. "I don't know, really. I mean, I think writing would be fun. If I got to write a play adaptation to a TV show I liked, I'd be really happy with that."

Ve hummed, laying down next to him. "You can try going for it. I think you'd do well. I know you didn't write the entirety of the plays, but they were fun to act out."

"Maybe. I guess we'll see. What about you?"

"I think voice acting would be fun. I could do stuff for animation, it seems less stressful than doing something live action. Then again, I don't really know yet."

"I think you'd do a good job," he said, before he linked their fingers together.

•~•~•~•~•~•

"I feel so weird," Dex said.

"Can you describe it?"

"I feel anxious, we're presenting the play in just a few hours, but part of me doesn't feel that scared, and that just makes me more worried."

"The dress rehearsal and the one we presented at school were great," he assured. "Don't you remember the applause?"

"That's different. I know we've done this before, but like, we only won one award last year when there were a crap ton of them. I don't want to be the reason why we don't advance in the competition this year either."

"We'll do our best, okay? You can do that much, right?" He asked, gently grabbing one of vis hands.

Ve nodded, determination flashing in vis eyes. "Okay, we'll do our best."

•~•~•~•~•~•

Their play began, and it was going incredibly well- it felt like everyone was performing even better than usual. While he really liked the comedic play from the previous year, the lighting, special effects, and the emotional speeches made the play feel better in terms of quality.

It neared the end- when the mayor was about to learn that his friend was alive. But as Dex spoke, Fitz noticed that something was off. Ve performed fine, but one of vis lines was slightly wrong. Ve must have noticed, because as ve crouched down, ve froze, vis eyes darting side to side. Ve picked up the hand of the "dead body", vis breaths visible.

From far away, it could have been interpreted as disbelief, that maybe the character was noticing something. But Fitz knew that wasn't the case, and even he began to feel nervous.

Ve had started to panic a lot less with all the practice, but that didn't mean that vis stage fright didn't disappear.

Dex, I know you can do it. I believe in you. Just get through this ending, and it'll be over. You can do it.

That nervous feeling that he'd felt disappeared in an instant. For a few moments, he felt nothing. Then there was shock, so overwhelming that for a moment, he couldn't breathe.

Dex spoke, vis lines delivered without any stutter, and there was so much happiness in vis tone, more than Fitz had heard in a while. There was that breathless sort of relief, which mainly came from receiving good news after a long time. There was no way that it could be faked so easily. Especially not when ve had been panicking just moments ago.

Fitz smiled at vem, those same emotions that Dex was feeling could be felt by him too. He had no idea what was going on, but whatever it was, Fitz was glad that it had happened.

When ve walked off stage after the last few scenes were over, he heard a voice in his mind.

Wonderboy, did you know that we're soulmates?

It was Dex's voice, but ve was nowhere near hi-

He caught on to that last word. Soulmates. Soulmates. That word repeated in his brain.

Yeah, soulmates. It shocked me, but not so much the soulmates part but more the "your voice is in my brain" part. How do you feel about all of this?

Despite being a writer, he had no words to explain how he felt. He was elated, happy, but none of those words felt like it did justice.

Okay, I think I can tell. Just know that I'm happy you're my soulmate too. Also, you might wanna get up on stage to bow, we can talk later.

Fitz stood up quickly, not realizing that the others were getting up. Yeah, we'll do that.

The festival itself wasn't that long, and their school was one of the later schools to present, but still, it felt like such a long time away. He had to actively concentrate on the other plays, otherwise he was going to get lost in thought, or end up spending the entire time mentally communicating with Dex.

Finally though, it ended, and once they were dropped back at school, they started their walk home together.

"Are you shocked that we're soulmates?" Dex asked.

"Not really. You and I have gotten really close over these two years, I don't think I can imagine my soulmate being anyone else," he replied. "Though I do still think that part of me is processing."

Ve snorted. "That reveal literally snapped me out of my spiraling. If you think you had no time to process it, imagine being on stage and there's just a voice. I'm lucky I didn't jump in shock, and managed to get through the rest of that."

"Oh, yeah, that would be something that would scare me. But I think we should talk about what comes next."

"We already decided that we aren't gonna date," Dex told him.

He nodded. "And I've thought about this for a while, but I do want to stay close with you. With the knowledge that you're my soulmate, that makes me want it more. I don't know what exactly either of our stories will be like in the future, but I want you to be one of the main characters in my story."

Dex looked down, vis face flushing red. "You- you're such a dork, you know that? How do you say something so cheesy? But… I can agree too."

Fitz felt his own face heating up a little bit, and was glad that his skin was dark enough for it to not show. It did sound a little cheesy.

"At least we have that much settled. Our stories are still in progress, so we can always wait before adding more plot points."

Ve laughed. "You make it sound so dramatic."

"I'm a writer!"

•~•~•~•~•~•

"So you look happy," Biana remarked as he entered the living room that same night. "I think you somehow look happier than you did last year."

He could still feel the smile on his face. "Dex is my soulmate."

"Wait, really? That's so cool! What happened?"

Fitz recounted the events, then began to describe how it felt. He was sort of able to feel those emotions before he realized, but once the bond was truly established, he was conscious of Dex's emotions, and the other way around. Every once in a while, he could hear Dex's voice in his mind.

"That's amazing!" Ae squealed. "Do you think that either Sophie or Linh could end up as my soulmate? That would be so cool! Even if neither of them aren't, I could see if my soulmate would join the polycule. Even if they don't, I'd be fine with that."

"Both of them could be your soulmates," he said.

"They could," she agreed. "But you know that multiple soulmates are super rare. I'd be so happy if they were both my soulmates though."

"I guess you'd just have to wait and see," he said. "Just like I did."

•~•~•~•~•~•

"I hope our school advances this time!" Dex whispered to him, as they sat down to watch the award ceremony for the plays.

It turned out that the play didn't manage to make it past the district showcase, but it wasn't too saddening. They could definitely understand why some of the other schools had managed to make it.

But just because they didn't make it past the round didn't mean that there weren't awards to be given. The director of their play won an award- and Fitz agreed with that decision. They had done a really good job with everything, including the choreographing of the superpowers.

The other award that their school received was one that Fitz was not surprised about. The award was for an actor and their talents, and he was proud as Dex walked onto the stage to receive the certificate.

I can't believe this is happening! Dex said.

I can, he replied. You did such a good job.

For the rest of that evening, neither of them stopped smiling.

•~•~•~•~•~•

"Hey Dex, can you come act out this part?" Fitz called out.

When there was no reply, he called out for vem mentally. Dex, can you act out a part I'm writing please?

The door to the other bedroom opened, and ve walked into his room. "Sorry, was listening to music."

"That's fine."

"Which part do you want me to act out?"

He turned the laptop screen around so ve could read.

"Broken Harmony, right?" Ve asked.

He nodded. Then he watched as vis posture changed, vis face wearing a cocky grin that resembled Keefe's. When he'd first seen the look, he'd thought that it looked odd on vem, but over the years, he learned more and more about vem. Plus, ve had become a voice actor, and had taken on various roles.

Ve recited the dialogue, and from there, Fitz was able to continue the conversation.

"Thank you," he said out of habit, even though at this point, it was something ve would do everything ve was asked.

Ve smiled. "I'll be back in my room if you need me, okay?"

He nodded. "Okay. Love you."

"Love you too."

•~•~•~•~•~•

I don't leave many notes in the end but that scene where Fitz almost kisses vem on the cheek instinctively is actually something that's happened to me when I was questioning whether I was crushing on my friend or not (it was so embarrassing when I realized. I was in front of multiple people too, so I'm relieved that nobody noticed). Idk why I've decided to share this now, but as I said, I projected a lot onto Fitz this time

Kotlc taglist: @keefeinnit @impostertamsong @my-swan-song @subrosasteath

Want to be added/removed from the kotlc masterlist? Just let me know!

#fitz vacker #dex dizznee #biana vacker #queerplatonic fedex #fedex #kotlc #keeper of the lost cities #kotlc fanfiction #ravi writes a thing

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nerdywriter36 · 3 years

Text

Sleep So Long Awaited

taken from a post by @behindthemirrorofmusic on tumblr: 'apparently in one of the millions of Love Never Dies drafts, it was Erik who died. The final scene was very different with Erik pushing Raoul out of the shot's way and subsequently getting hit himself. As Erik lays dying in Christine's arms, Raoul assured Erik he will be a better father to Gustave and raise him in his honour and Christine tells him she loved him. Then Erik sings his last words to her: "Christine, don't weep, for I can finally sleep...I have heard you sing...once more..."

@phannah--montana asked me to write this, so blame her for the pain that follows. i cried multiple times writing this, so...my apologies.

AO3

FFN

Erik's heart was pounding. Over the course of his life, he had been in countless terrifying situations that had made his heart race and adrenaline course through his veins, but none compared to the way he felt as he rushed through a crowded amusement park, knowing that his only child was missing.

The roar of rollercoasters and giddy squeals of children did nothing to calm his anxiousness; every young boy he saw made his heart skip a beat, but none of them were his Gustave.

Despite all of that, though, what pained him the most was seeing how distressed Christine was. The panic on her face and the tears in her eyes made his heart ache and his nerves fire off more than they already had been.

"Erik, what if we don't find him?" she asked as she turned to him, taking a shaky breath before she looked away to scan their surroundings again.

"Don't say that, we are going to find him," he immediately replied. He tried to be gentle but kept his tone firm to reassure her. He refused to let her believe that they'd lose their son for good, and he didn't want to believe it either.

"But what if we don't? Or if we do, what if it takes hours? He could be anywhere out here in the dark, surrounded by strangers. What if someone has unsavoury intentions? They could just...just take him! Oh, and the water; Erik, he can't swim, what if he falls in?" Christine said, her rapid-fire questions finally ceasing as her tears overflowed.

With a quiet sigh, Erik pulled her into his arms and held her head to his chest. "Don't think of such things, my darling. We will find him and he will be alright and we will take him somewhere safe," he said, gently rubbing her back in an attempt to soothe her. "We must keep searching, though. Go with Madame Giry and search over there, by the concession stands. I will stay here and do another close look before we move on."

Christine nodded, taking his hand and squeezing it before she hurried off with Giry, leaving Erik to hurry the other way to continue the search for his son. As much as he had been trying to reassure his angel that Gustave would be found, he was beginning to realize that the exact same fears were running through his own mind. His son simply having gone missing was enough to terrify him, but what Christine had said about him being alone in the dark, taken away, or falling into the rough bay surrounding the island made his stomach twist in a way he had never felt before. He didn't even want to consider his one and only child being scared, possibly hurt, and god, if something worse happened, then-

"Mister Y!" someone called.

Erik stopped in his tracks at the sound of his pseudonym, knowing that almost no one could pair that name with him. As he tried to consider who it could be without looking, he heard the same voice use his birth name and finally turned around, only to frown right away.

"R-Raoul?" he stuttered out, too surprised by the man's appearance to use his formal title as he usually did. "What are you...I thought you left?"

"I did, but I couldn't get to the docks. Christine deserved more than a letter, so I came back to talk to her about everything. Explain my decision," Raoul replied, only to frown slightly when he noticed how frantic the man in front of him was. "Is something wrong?"

"No, no, n-nothing is wrong," Erik said immediately. "Christine is, um...she-she's not at the hotel."

"That's fine, I can wait, but something is clearly wrong," the Vicomte said with a sigh. "Not that I'm particularly concerned about you - I'll sleep fine tonight, - but it's inhibiting this discussion, so you may as well just tell me."

"Gustave is missing."

Immediately, Raoul's frown deepened. "What?"

"Gustave is missing, my-my son is missing," Erik repeated, running a shaky hand through his hair as those simple words made the situation all too real for him.

"Wh- how? When did this happen?" Raoul asked, pushing aside his past with the ex-Phantom to try and get to the bottom of the matter at hand, and while the truth of Gustave's parentage stung, he could see Erik's distress plain and simple; he was a villain no more, but merely a frightened father instead. "I saw him at the theatre before I left, he was meant to stay there."

"Yes, I know that much, but when Christine and I returned to her dressing room, he wasn't there. At first, I thought you had taken him, but it was confirmed that you left alone. Madame Giry isn't to blame either, so now we're trying to track Meg down."

Raoul thought to himself for a moment, only for the blood to drain from his face as a realization dawned on him. "She goes swimming every morning, near the bar where we spoke."

"Suicide Hall, oh my god," Erik breathed, exchanging a panicked glance with the Vicomte before he bolted towards Christine, who stood not far away, with Raoul right behind him.

"Raoul?" Christine said with a frown, turning to Erik for answers. "What is he-"

"Meg!" Erik yelled as he ran down the pier, his heart leaping into his throat when he saw his son held in the woman's arms. "Meg, stop, please!"

"He's going to help, but we think we know where Meg took Gustave, come," Erik immediately replied as he took her hand and started running towards the seaside bar and pier.

He immediately skidded to a stop, though, when he watched her pull a gun from behind her back to point it at him. "Stay there! I'll shoot if you don't! Or...or he'll end up in the water!" she threatened as she shuffled Gustave closer to the edge of the pier despite his efforts to squirm away.

"No, Meg, please! Leave him out of this!" Erik pleaded, sighing shakily when he heard Christine crying quietly behind him. "Please let him go, Meg, please don't hurt him."

"Why should I listen to you?! That's all I've done for ten years, only for you to refuse to even look my way!" the young Giry retorted. "And why does his safety matter to you so much? You hardly know him!"

"Meg, he is only a child, he should not be caught up in something like this," Erik said calmly, his eyes locked on Gustave, who was looking right back at him with distress painted on his face. "Just leave him be and keep this between us."

Meg shook her head, still holding Gustave tightly. "He is involved because he ties you to her! You couldn't just leave her behind, and then you had a child with her!"

Erik's heart sunk when he heard her and watched a frown form on his son's face. "What?" the boy quietly asked.

"And he didn't even know! The secrets never stop with you, do they?" Meg snapped, adjusting her hold on the gun still pointed at them. "The family resemblance is rather strong, though; he would have figured it out soon enough."

"Meg...Meg, please let him go," Erik said quietly, fighting to keep his voice steady despite the tears starting to well up in his eyes. "He hasn't hurt anyone, leave him out of this fight."

His fingers twitched as he waited for any sort of response or reaction from Meg, feeling Christine's hand on his back, gripping his suit coat, her anxiety palpable even though he couldn't see her.

What made the situation all the more heartwrenching, though, was what he heard his son quietly say with tear-filled eyes: "Papa, help."

"Oh, Meg, please let him go," Adele Giry piped up to say. "Let the boy go to his father, he has no part in this."

It was another moment before Erik released the breath he'd been holding when Meg pushed Gustave forward and the boy ran right into his arms. "I've got you, Gustave, you're alright," he whispered, holding his son tightly when he felt how he was shaking, then turned around so Christine and Raoul could comfort him as well.

As Gustave hugged his mother, he turned to look up at Erik. "So...so you're my real father?" he asked quietly.

Erik sighed and gave him a weak smile. "I am. I'm sorry you only just found out and that it happened this way; the situation is very complicated. Still, I'm glad you had Raoul to take care of you until now."

"So am I," Gustave replied, smiling back at him. "But I'm glad I have my real Papa now too."

"As am I, Gustave." Erik reached out to hesitantly smooth down his child's hair and simply stood looking at him for a moment, ecstatic that he was safe, but even that didn't keep him from noticing the sound of a gun's hammer being pulled back from behind them. Whirling around, he had hardly registered the weapon aimed at them before he shoved Raoul out of the way just as a shot rang out.

Then all he could feel was the searing pain in his abdomen.

There were screams as he stumbled and collapsed, that much he knew; two women - Christine, undoubtedly, and Meg along with her - as well as his son...oh, his son. The boy he had only just discovered, yet loved with all his heart, and was at the risk of leaving forever before even getting to know him, raise him, love him even more or-

"God, what did you do that for?" the Vicomte demanded, interrupting his train of thought for the second time that night.

Erik managed to find the energy to focus again and looked up to see both Raoul and Christine hunched over him, both looking rather worried, though that was more true of the latter, naturally.

"She was going to shoot you," Erik replied, stifling a groan as the Vicomte held his suit jacket to his wound to apply any pressure he could.

"So her shooting you was a better alternative?" Raoul retorted. "You...you have a family here."

Erik sighed quietly as he glanced up at Christine, who had moved to rest his head in her lap, then back to his former rival turned associate. "As do you."

He noticed the Vicomte seemed to pause at that; he looked up from the gunshot wound to his face and the pressure on his abdomen lessened momentarily. Erik wasn't surprised that Raoul had seemed caught off guard; earlier that very day, they had been at each other's throats, fighting to call Gustave and Christine theirs. That said, neither of them could have foreseen the way the night would go, so quick decisions had to be made, that much Erik recognized.

"Papa?" he heard a familiar, quiet voice say, which made him turn his head slightly to see Gustave next to his mother, fear all over his face and tears in his eyes, a few having already fallen onto his cheeks. "What's going to happen?"

Oh, how badly he wished he could say that all would be well, but he could tell that wouldn't be the case; he could already feel his strength waning and his breaths becoming more laboured with each passing moment.

"I'm sorry, Gustave. I wish you and I had had more time together," Erik said quietly, his heart aching as he watched his son simply shake his head in response.

"But I don't want you to die, I want you to stay here with us," Gustave said before he leaned over and much to everyone's surprise, hugged his father.

Erik winced slightly when he did but waved Raoul off when he began to tell Gustave to move. "I'm so sorry, my boy," he whispered, slowly moving his arm so as to avoid any extra pain and wrapping it around his son. "You're going to be alright, I promise."

"Please stay, Papa. I don't want you to go," the boy replied just before a quiet sob escaped him and he buried his face in the crook of his father's neck.

"Shh, no tears, Gustave. I'm sorry I cannot stay, but your maman has plenty of stories about me. I will never really go away, I promise you that."

"And your Papa will never break a promise if it is in his power," Christine quietly added as she gently pulled Gustave up and held him close while she fought back tears of her own.

Raoul sighed as he looked at his wife and her son, then glanced back at Erik, pulling his jacket away and feeling his stomach twist slightly at the amount of blood stating his shirt and soaking through his waistcoat. One look at Erik's face and seeing the expressions of pain that he was trying and failing to hide told him enough; the man was dying and unless help arrived that very moment, there was nothing to be done about that fact.

"They're going to be alright, Erik," he decided to say as he set his jacket to the wound again, even though he knew the ex-Phantom was well aware that it was pointless. "I am going to take care of them and I am going to do it right this time. Gustave deserves better than what I gave him, and if you can't be the one to do that, then...then I'll do it on your behalf."

Erik managed a weak smile and nod in response. "Thank you," he said hoarsely. "I...I trust you."

Raoul returned the nod and took Gustave into his arms when Christine leaned over and pressed a gentle kiss to Erik's forehead, then his lips. While a slight spark of jealousy flared up in his chest seeing that, he managed to smother it; the man was dying and deserved a moment with the woman he loved, the mother of his one and only child. Even someone with all his faults and flaws deserved that.

"I love you, Erik," he heard Christine say as he gently smoothed down his hair, no doubt trying to soothe him in his final moments. That was her way, after all; gentility and kindness whenever possible.

"As I love you, my angel," Erik whispered, lifting a slightly shaky hand to brush his knuckles against her cheek. "Thank you for...for all you've given me."

When his wife finally allowed a sob to slip from her lips, even Raoul found himself getting teary-eyed seeing her in pain. Still, he gave the pair their space, settling to hold Gustave close and wait for the inevitable end to the situation at hand.

"Oh, Christine," Erik said softly, a tear falling from his own eye, the Vicomte noticed, before his voice lifted into the weakest song he'd ever heard, which was undoubtedly all the man could manage: "Christine, don't weep, for I can finally sleep... I have heard you sing...once more."

All was silent and still at that, and Raoul hugged Gustave even tighter as he noticed the rise and fall of Erik's chest had stopped, the hand that had been resting just above his injury slipping to fall onto the deck of the pier.

"Papa?" Gustave asked quietly, lifting his head and looking over at his father's body as he started to sniffle again. "Papa, w-wake up."

"Shh, Gustave, he's gone. I'm so sorry," Raoul whispered, cradling the boy's head to his shoulder and shuffling closer to his wife to wrap an arm around her while she hugged Erik's head against her chest. "I'm sorry, Christine."

His wife simply nodded, pressing a kiss to the top of Erik's head before she turned to him. "Thank you," she whispered.

"For what?" Raoul queried with a frown.

"For everything you said. You brought him peace when he needed it and I can never thank you enough."

With a small smile, the Vicomte leaned forward to kiss her cheek. "Of course. He wanted his family to be safe and I wanted to reassure him that that would be a reality. He deserved to know that you two will be okay even when he isn't here to make sure of that himself, and I intend to ensure that happens."

#poto #phantom of the opera #lnd #love never dies #e/c #r/c #erik #christine daae #raoul de chagny #gustave #erik and gustave #oneshot #my writing

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wendimydarling · 4 years

Text

No Mercy

Title: No Mercy

Summary: Henry’s not in charge for once.

Pairing: Henry x Anonymous Girlfriend

Word Count: 2352

Warnings: 18+, bondage, foreplay, sex.

A/N: So I’m away from my computer and I couldn’t write anything new, cause formatting is damn difficult on a phone. @littlefreya @sciapod @thiccgeralt I’ll get to our imagine at some point, but for now enjoy this one that I wrote years ago. Also, if you haven’t guessed by now, I’ve got a bit of a tickle kink cause it’s a great non-painful power play. Sorry, not sorry. 😁 Constructive criticism is always welcome, so long as it’s done nicely! Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Henry was in trouble and he knew it. His girlfriend had been unusually handsy at the restaurant, stroking him secretly under the table while she chatted with his friends, and openly groping him in the car while they drove home. She was completely silent though and he wasn’t quite sure what he was in for; the way she was acting meant she was clearly in the mood, and she had him so riled up he was willing to say yes to anything she had in mind.

No sooner had he pulled into the garage than she was unbuckling her seat belt and climbing on top of him, hiking up her skirt so that she could straddle his legs. Her hands were everywhere and she was grinding down hard, making his head swim. She kissed him roughly, then moved to his neck when he broke off for air. “Maybe... maybe we should take this upstairs,” Henry panted, doing his best to sound seductive while secretly hoping she’d agree to go inside, which would give him a chance to collect himself.

She pulled back and stared at him, her expression unreadable. In his peripherals Henry saw her fingers wrap slowly around the car door handle. She opened it and wordlessly slipped off his lap and out the door, turning to look back at him with a sultry glance as she walked into the house. Henry felt yet another familiar twitch below and sent a silent thanks upward for this vixen he got to call his, taking a deep breath before scrambling to undo his seatbelt and follow her inside.

He found her standing in the bedroom, stripped down to her underwear (though she’d left her heels on). Henry gave a throaty groan of approval at her attire, removing his shirt and stepping towards her and the bed. She placed her hand flat on his chest to stop him and shook her head briefly, looking over at the corner. He turned to look and discovered she had brought one of the kitchen chairs up with her. Henry looked back at her with suspicion, eyebrow raised.

At his hesitation, Henry’s girlfriend kissed him again and pushed him backwards towards the chair, undoing the button and zipper on his pants at the same time. She stepped away and motioned for him to continue which he obeyed quickly, removing the rest of his clothes while she disappeared into the bathroom. Her silence was driving him crazy, but in a very good way. She knew him well.

Henry sat down in the chair, hissing a little as the cold wood met his bare flesh. He heard his girlfriend come back into the room but before he could turn to look at her something soft was slipped over his eyes. Holy shit, he thought to himself, feeling himself grow even harder at the idea of not being able to see. Once the blindfold was secured, he felt open-mouthed kisses trail from over the blindfold on his temple down to the pulse point in his neck. His girlfriend’s hands slid down his arms at the same time, pulling them behind the chair. “Bloody hell, woman,” he breathed, fighting his arousal as she looped what felt like rope around his arms, cinching them tight from his wrists to his elbows. “What are you planning to do to me?”

Henry got no response, which he expected. His back and shoulders were flush against the back of the chair while his arms were wrapped around it, and while he was slouching he couldn’t really bend forward, so his hips slipped a little towards the front of the seat. He felt a hand slide down his chest to his right leg, where another rope was used to anchor it to the chair, once at the knee and once at the ankle. The same was repeated on the other side, just as tightly and peppered with kisses. Henry suddenly felt very vulnerable. He tried testing the restraints and found that he could move very little. He made a mental note to later ask his girlfriend how she got so good at tying people up. She sat sideways on his lap now and kissed him again, but every time he tried to deepen it she would pull away. The woman had complete control over him, and he loved it. She stood up and walked away, and he was left to wait.

Adrenaline and excitement coursed through Henry as he waited for what was next. He didn’t know how much time had passed since his girlfriend had kissed him but it was far too much time for his taste, and he had no idea if she was even still in the room. “You still there, Fireball?” He called out in a husky tone, using her nickname in the hope for a reply. He heard a soft moan, and turned his head toward the bed. Another breathy moan came from that direction, and then a gasp. Henry focused and heard the squelch of wet flesh being repeatedly exposed. Realization struck him: she was masturbating. “You bloody minx,” he exclaimed, arousal dripping from his voice as he listened to her get herself off at the sight of him tied up. He couldn’t touch her, and why that made him more excited he had no idea, he only knew it did. A throaty gasp left his girlfriend as her release hit her, then once again there was silence. Henry waited impatiently.

After a few more agonizing minutes, just when he began to assume that she had left him alone, Henry felt something soft brush against his erection. He cried out in surprise, then again in pleasure as whatever it was did it a second time. Slowly at first, the soft object would repeat its motion. Down, then up, then down and up again. It alternated sides, swiped through the slit of his head and down towards his base, always catching him off guard and never revealing any kind of pattern.

All at once, he realized what she had done. “Oh god,” he breathed, connecting the dots in his head. He’d been had. The whole night so far had been a ruse to get him here, where he couldn’t escape. The silence, the urgent kisses, grabbing at him under the table at dinner, even jumping him in the car. She’d used everything he liked and she’d played him like a fiddle. See, Henry’s girlfriend loved to tease, but whenever she would tease him like this during sex he would always get too frustrated and end up flipping her over, having his way with her before she was finished playing. This way, she had Henry completely at her mercy. The touch hadn’t stopped, and he growled in frustration as he tried to pull back from it, held still by the rope.

The object (he assumed a feather) disappeared, and Henry was left alone again, panting, his erection pulsing in anger at the lack of friction. He tried to steel himself mentally, knowing that it was only going to get worse and that this time he couldn’t take control and distract his girlfriend. He wasn’t wrong.

Fingertips replaced the feather and with the lightest touch traced the outline the feather had left. Henry grunted and threw his head back, trying to ignore the sensations. Every time his girlfriend stroked down she would get closer and closer to his balls. His breath would hitch and his body would try in vain to get up from the chair, which he knew was only egging her on. At random intervals, she would grab his shaft firmly and pump a couple of times, only to release him and go back to the slow, light torture of her fingertips. “Christ, love, that’s not fair!” Henry barked at her, head coming back up, chin against his chest. Once she finally reached his base, she went back to the top and started the process all over again. He knew she was grinning, and he hated and loved it at the same time.

Four more times she started over. Henry was panting heavily by the time she was done, every now and then pleading with her or throwing a curse her way. His balls were aching to be touched and he was leaking, which didn’t help his cause. Every time he did his girlfriend would lick it up, making him gasp in pleasure. She never kept her tongue on him long though, only enough to leave him wanting more.

After the fifth time Henry felt his girlfriend’s fingers travel finally, FINALLY to his balls, but she didn’t move them, she just held them against his skin. Anytime he’d push to gain more pressure, she’d remove her fingertips and he would be left with nothing. Henry writhed in agony, so turned on by her power that he could barely think. “Fuck, you bitch, would you just fucking do something already?” He growled at her, trying to make her mad enough to give him something, anything. Her hands left his body and he heard her heels clack against the floor in the hallway, leaving him alone.

Henry cursed himself, and tested his bonds again. They held firm. I really am going to have to ask her how to do that, he thought again, smirking at his predicament. He knew it didn’t show but he was actually enjoying being pushed to his limits, which surprised him. He might have to give her more opportunities to do this. He heard his girlfriend back in the hallway and braced himself, wondering what she was going to do.

His girlfriend came back into the room and Henry felt her fingers tilt his chin up. He was expecting to be punished for calling her a bitch, so it surprised him when she kissed him fully, giving his upper lip a small lick when she pulled away. Before he could come up with an apology, something sticky was placed across his mouth, and he was quite literally rendered speechless. Outwardly he grunted his protest, but inwardly he knew that he deserved it.

What he did not think he deserved, however, were the fingers that were suddenly drilling themselves into his rib cage. Henry squirmed hard, trying to get away, but he was stuck and his girlfriend was mad. Shit, shit, shit, he thought as he laughed into his gag. That was not what I had in mind! The tickling only lasted a minute or two to remind him who was in charge, but it felt like longer before she stopped. A gentle slap on the side of his face when she was done let him know he was forgiven and brought him immediately back to his arousal. He whimpered repeatedly through the gag, breath coming out sharply through his nose. He was ready to come, needed it. His girlfriend straddled his lap and he groaned as she tilted his erection up, still not providing any relief. She ran her fingers through his hair and placed her mouth on his temple again, next to his ear. A quiet ‘shhh’ escaped her lips; the first sound she’d made all night.

The tape was removed slowly from his mouth and Henry gave her a mumbled apology mixed with incoherent pleading, to which another ‘shhh’ was issued. His girlfriend hugged his head to her chest and soft kisses were planted on his hair as soothing hands squeezed up and down his shoulders, her favorite muscles of his. He felt the skin of her breast brush against his cheek and he realized she was naked; she must have removed the rest of her clothes while she had masturbated.

His girlfriend shifted in his lap and Henry uttered a loud sigh of relief as his throbbing erection was completely enveloped in her warmth. No mercy was shown or needed as she began to ride him in earnest; she was clearly as desperate as he. Her breaths became more shallow and she bit his shoulder in an effort to keep quiet as she came close to the edge. Henry urged her to come, murmuring dirty words into her ear as she rocked back and forth on his lap. He felt her walls tighten around him as she sat up and the blindfold was ripped off his head, allowing him to watch her come apart.

Her eyes were open and staring into his as she came, still riding him hard. Henry was close, but something was missing. His girlfriend snaked a hand behind her and pressed her fingers into his balls, and at the same time leaned forward and whispered in his ear three words that did him in every time she used them: “You’re my favorite.” Head bent into her shoulder, watching himself slide in and out of her center, Henry finally came, a reverent and lengthy “fuuuuuuck” escaping his lips. His girlfriend slowed down her thrusts and brought her hands around to cradle each side of his neck, resting her forehead on his.

They sat there a moment, chests heaving as they came down from their high. His girlfriend started kissing him again and Henry tugged his arms, whining a little in pain. She took the hint, reaching around the chair and pulling just one string while still kissing him. The ropes fell away and Henry pulled back to look at her incredulously, thinking it would have been so easy for him to escape the whole time. She laughed at his expression, her cheeky grin telling him that she clearly thought she had won.

Finally able to use his hands he grabbed her neck and fervently resumed their kiss. She reached down to release his legs and once he was free he picked up a length of rope and grabbed her ass, standing up and carrying her to the bed. Dropping her unceremoniously onto the mattress, he held up the rope and smirked down at her. “Just so you know,” he warned her, “payback’s a bitch.” She simply smiled at him and held her hands out in surrender, taunting him with her words. “Do your worst.”

#henrycavill #henry cavill #henry cavill smut #dom!fem #sub!henry

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liquid-reign · 3 years

Text

Devil's Advocate

Tommy x Arabella

Word count- 1.8k

Trigger Warnings- None as such

A/N- It is kind of a rebuilt of a scene in S5 E1 when they all have a family meeting in The Garrison. I've included it just in the starting to form a base for writing the rest of it. I wanted to accommodate my OC in there because it felt right. And yes I always want Tommy to get some sleep. God knows he needs it.

The title is from "Devil's Advocate" by The Neighborhood. Felt good for a title to this. Though I wouldn't say the song itself fits in this scenario.

All settled in the old area of the Garrison when Lizzie spoke up "Can I begin this family meeting with a proposal? From now on we find somewhere else to meet?"

"Your boss believes that being seen mixing with the common people is good politics" said Ada

"Well if it's our campaign for socialism, perhaps next time, Polly, you won't wear earrings worth more than the pub" retorted Roslyn who found a place beside Polly to sit

Arthur occupied a table as well and Tommy took his place standing with a pillar, lighting a cigarette

"Right. Family meeting. First Item. This" Ada slammed a spent bullet on the table "Dug out of our Finn's arm yesterday by Aberama Gold, using your Gin and a razor blade"

"Finn?" asked Lizzie

"He says they were sent to Limehouse, Chinatown" Ada continued

"Sent by fucking who?" asked Lizzie, again.

"Sent by me" Tommy answered "I told Finn to stay outta this. He obviously didn't listen"

He was clearly annoyed

Roslyn just sat there and listened. It wasn't too surprising for her to see that her husband had sent his little brother to do something like that. But she hadn't known about this "What's in Chinatown, Tommy? What is going on?" she asked calmly.

Tommy sighed a little and answered "50,000 pounds, in cash"

"He said they were sent to Chinatown to kill somebody" Ada said

"The kid needs education Tommy, he really does" Arthur was irritated by his kid brother's inability to keep things confidential, ofcourse.

"It was a particular opportunity" Polly started

"A particular opportunity presented to me in confidence, I dealt with it in confidence" Tommy said as a matter of fact.

"How important was it?" Roslyn asked, her voice levelled

"Tommy told me there was a pimp in east London who sold kids" Polly defended

"Fucking kids, right?" Arthur came in

"This pimp was blackmailing a senior member of the house of Lords, a very wealthy man" Tommy tied to explain

"Now this pimp is lying in a ditch, covered in flies. The world is a better place" Arthur supported him, opening a bottle of whiskey

"Holy fuck so now your business is improving the world?" Ada scolded them, very mad that they had sent their little brother to do Blinder business.

"The man we did the job for is a high court judge. We received intelligence from a senior police officer in Scotland yard. I've made lots of friends in London, Men with influence. The Police felt the same way about this pimp as we did" he explained further, again, as a matter of fact "He wasn't worth a trial. The coppers cleared the streets for us. This work was commissioned by a High Court judge, by Scotland Yard and by the House Of Lords"

"It's a particular opportunity. It's not to be repeated" Polly defended him

"And it was the right thing to do" Tommy tried again

"Fucking right" Arthur joined him

"I can't be bothered with this shit" Lizzie muttered, irritated and mad, and left.

Roslyn was mad too, that they had been careless enough to send Finn for this job. But she knew this wasn't to be dealt with that easily "They're right, Ada" she glanced at Ada and then to everybody else as she spoke "If Finn is to take care of that side of the business he'll have to go out, witness and experience how it's done. Dangers and Bullets included, Isn't it?" she gave Tommy a side eye, talking in a dangerously calm tone "Anyway, he's a Shelby. Being afraid of bullets shouldn't be in him. It's only practical"

Tommy, Polly and Ada looked at Roslyn like she'd read verses from Satan's own holy book. Arthur nodded.

Roslyn got up "Now if you'll please excuse me, I am getting late for my train to London", she nodded once at Arthur and Tommy before leaving.

"What's wrong with her?" asked Polly, still a little in shock

The meeting went on till Tommy and Arthur were the only ones remaining, discussing bullets and Chinese

Tommy came home tired, straight from Westminster. The strange interaction with his son left him a bit more drained. Arthur had told Charlie it was in God's hands, the death of his favourite horse. If Tommy believed in God then maybe he would agree with this someday. But he didn't. Couldn't.

He asked for Roslyn the moment he came back inside. He wanted to talk to her about what she'd said in the meeting. It had left him angry and called-out.

He knocked on the door of her study. Walking in before she permitted him to, clearing his throat, found himself a place on the opposite side of the desk.

"Good evening, Tommy. How was your day?" she greeted him, without looking up from her papers.

"Why'd you say that in the meeting?" he asked, totally ignoring the greeting.

"Coming straight to the point, are we?" she said, still not looking up.

He just waited for her to answer.

Roslyn knew what he was here for and there was no use going around in circles.

Looking up, she started to speak, but for a second she noticed how tired he looked and almost wanted to take him to bed to just let him sleep comfortably in her arms. Oh how she wished, she could but they didn't work that way, did they?

"I meant every word I said in the meeting, Tom" she paused in case he wanted to react, but carried on when he didn't "If Finn is to handle that side of the business he will have to face the dangers. He can't sit here protected. No one comes out in one piece handling that side of affairs. You and Arthur, of all people, understand that don't you?"

He just stared at her. She shifted in her seat, leaning in, arms on the desk "Tommy, you and your brothers had to get into dirty business because you didn't have a choice. But Finn has a choice. He is very young and now his family is more than capable of giving him a better life than any one of us has had" she wanted to let it all out "I know you do not want him to get hurt, but if you keep pushing him he will get hurt it's inevitable. He's not like you or Arthur or John"

"What do you imply?" he asked, voice deep and low. Calm.

"I say we send him off to a good university. That's the only way to get him away from the bad side. I'm not saying we send him somewhere far away like America. I say we keep him in Britain. Oxford, Cambridge, London"

He hardly spoke but she could sense the gears of his mind working

"He will mingle with intelligent, brilliant and decent people there. See the world for what it really is. Away from all this dirt. He will take up Law or Commerce. Come back as an asset to the company. Tommy, it's not such a bad idea you know that" she knew he understood the language of profits better, so if she had to use that she would.

Now he nodded, his gaze had shifted down to the desk where her hands lay. He was thinking, gone in his mind.

"Think of him as an elder son of yours"

He looked up at her, hints of sudden anger but an overall understanding

She sat back. Roslyn had said everything she had wanted to. Now it was up to her husband to decide.

"We want people here" he quietly said "To keep the cash coming in"

"I know. But we have Mr. Gold and Isiah for that and we can hire more people. I can give you more of my business. We have alternatives" she said

He ran hand through his hair and face, fingers landing on his eyes. He was exhausted. Spent. From all the thinking.

"You're tired. Go get some rest we can talk about this some other day" she felt like she was talking too much anyway

He laid back in the chair, eyes closed, head resting on the back. Stayed there for a few seconds before getting up.

"I will consider this, Arabella" he said before leaving

"Mrs. Shelby, you could've called me if you needed anything" Frances said, a little worried, when she found Roslyn in the kitchen

"It's okay, Frances. You and the staff can retire for the day. Goodnight" She said with a polite smile. She liked Frances but also disliked her a tad bit because of how nosy she was sometimes. She was Tommy's personal informant in the house.

She nodded "Yes. Goodnight, Mrs. Shelby"

Roslyn had decided to make a calming tea for Tommy. She had it sometimes when she was too tired to sleep. The tea made her relax. She was hoping it would have the same effect on Tommy, though it was questionable.

She put in tea, some herbs she used, lavender and a dash of rum. She even made this tea for Alfie once and he slept like a baby for atleast two hours. A smile played on her lips when she thought of it.

She checked the library first. That was Tommy's sanctuary. She knocked before entering with the tray.

He looked up from his desk, confused, watching her as she kept the tray on the table in front of the couch.

"I made tea" she said, inviting him to the couch with a tilt of her head, while pouring the drink into her favourite cups.

Surprisingly he obeyed. He was a little taken aback because he didn't know she could make tea. Or be that homely. Or maybe he had completely ignored it till now.

He sat to her right. She shifted to the far left of the couch so they weren't too, at all, close.

"Here" she bent to hand him the cup.

They drank the tea in silence.

When they finished, she softly said, while getting up "I drink this tea to help me calm down. If you feel sleepy in a few minutes, just sleep, okay?"

Tommy looked at her get up, laying back on the couch.

She left, hoping Tommy would sleep a few hours atleast. Made a mental note to come check in an hour,

She immersed herself in work because she didn't want to sleep just yet. After fighting sleep for an hour, she finally made her way to the library, praying in her head for him to be asleep.

Much to her shock and relief, he had dozed off. He was sleeping, lying fully down on the couch. She was proud of her tea today because if it could make Tommy sleep, it could make anyone sleep.

She quietly left. Content that he'd atleast get some, if not much, sleep tonight.

#thomas shelby #tommy shelby #finn shelby #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #tommy x oc #arabella roslyn asheton

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beelsnack · 4 years

Text

Obey Me! Boys and an Insecure MC

Alternate Title: Coping mechanisms? In my demonic dating sim? It’s more likely than you think.

I honestly didn’t mean for this to be so long, but hey.

CW: Depression, self hatred, unhealthy coping mechanisms.

Lucifer: It was subtle, but nothing escaped the notice of the Eldest. He saw them fidgeting with their tie before heading to class, watched the frown tug at their lips when all they managed to produce was a rumpled tangle of silk. Caught them poking ruefully at their acne scars in the reflection of their D.D.D. Heard the frustrated sigh as they tried to sit in a way that hid the meat on their abdomen. But, above all, he paid close attention to those comments.

“Wow, I can’t do anything right, can I?”

“You would have to be a professional makeup artist to fix this mess, haha!”

“It’s alright, you can say I’m ugly.”

That was it. Lucifer stood from his seat at his desk, an errant paper fluttering to the ground in his wake. The Firstborn made his way over to where they were sitting, working away diligently on their laptop. Their breath caught in their throat when they turned to face him, and Lucifer fought back a sadistic grin when he felt them shudder at the feeling of his gloved hand sliding beneath their chin. He would file that away for later.

“That’s quite enough.” his voice was low as he lifted their face. They averted their eyes, clearly uncomfortable, but he kept his hand where it was. “Self-deprecation is unbecoming on anyone, but I certainly will not have it marring that beautiful face of yours.”

Nothing escaped the notice of the Eldest. Especially not the shy smile they wore as they bade him goodnight.

Mammon: Call him an idiot all you like, but if there was one thing that a solid gambling career had taught Mammon, it was how to read a person’s tells. The way they stood with their arms folded and body turned inward said they were trying to hide. Their habit of avoiding mirrors told him they hated the way they looked. The twinge of resigned sadness on their face when they carefully deflected Asmo’s blatant flirting made it obvious that they thought they didn’t deserve it.

It must have been particularly bad one night. The two of them had made themselves comfortable on the bed in preparation for movie night, but instead of cuddling up next to him like they normally did, they sat far enough away that Mammon had to actually scoot forward to jab them in the shoulder.

“Hey, what gives, human? Why’re you all the way over there?”

“I’m just feeling a little warm.” they shrugged, pulling their knees to their chest. They were trying to pull some reverse psychology bullshit by purposefully staring him in the eye while they lied to him. Mammon snorted.

“You really think you’re going to fool me like that? You’ve got at least a millennia until you can even think of lying to The Great Mammon!” he opened his arms and his voice softened when he spoke. “Come here.”

They hesitated - eyes flicking back and forth between him and a knot in the branches that made up their bed frame, nervous - before they tucked themselves into his waiting arms.

He leaned his cheek against the top of their head, inhaling the sweet smell of their freshly-washed hair and internally purring (maybe externally, but you wouldn’t be able to get him to admit it) when he felt them snuggle in a little deeper and release a pent up sigh.

Mammon stayed silent, absently stroking the back of their neck. Words had probably done the damage, and they definitely weren’t going to fix it. He knew that from experience. But shielding his human from their own poisonous thoughts for a few moments was a good place to start.

Levi: Self-deprecating comments were one of Levi’s main forms of communication. It was a defense mechanism, a low-level shield someone would cast when the enemy was ridiculously OP but the game didn’t give you a retreat option. He knew this mechanic.

But when he heard them use it, it made him angry.

How could someone as amazing as them - smart, pretty, brave, loved gaming, made sure to feed Henry 2.0 when Levi was at a Sucre Frenzy concert - think they were anything less then perfect? No, more importantly, who hurt them so badly that they started thinking that way?

He felt like he did that one time Mammon had dropped one of his limited-edition Ruri-chan figures from a balcony. Someone damaged something precious to him, and he wanted blood.

Of course, that would involve talking about feelings and other mushy, normie stuff, and he just wasn’t ready for that. So, he did the only thing he could think of.

Leviachan: Hey, you down for a raid? There’s this new set of armor - it’s suuuuuuper rare, and you’re the only one good enough to get through the dungeon with me!! Pleeeeaaaassseee?

Satan: These little reading dates had started without him really noticing. One day, the human had came into the library seeking a quiet place to study and finish up their homework. Then, they came in with a human world book that Satan had never heard of tucked under their arm and were more than willing to talk about it. This lead to the two of them huddled on the sofa with their noses buried in the same book, and the human surprising Satan by being able to keep up with his reading speed. And here they were.

Satan had chosen a detective novel that he was positive they would like, and the both of them had taken advantage of a quiet Sunday morning to let themselves get absorbed into the story. Satan had his long arms wrapped around them holding the book, and they were leaning against his chest as they flipped the pages. An easy routine that the two of them had fallen into.

He felt them sigh heavily against him and he quirked an eyebrow. “Something wrong?”

“Huh? Oh, no, I just...” they trailed off, gazing out the window at the dusty purple sky before snapping back to the present. “The love interest in this book is amazing. I’m a little jealous of them.”

“Jealous?” Satan echoed, looking down at the small frame curled up in his arms. “Why would you be jealous?”

“They were able to do so much with their life. They’re so young, yet they’ve got their life sorted out, they’re smart, beautiful, charismatic, and they’re confident in themselves despite all the shit people put them through...” they sighed again, and this time Satan heard the note of self-hatred on the exhale. “I can’t do anything like that.”

“Now where did you get that idea?” Satan said incredulously. “In the few months you’ve been here, you have excelled in every class you’ve taken, stood up against all of us in our true forms at least twice each, solved a murder, and convinced me to stop plotting to rip Lucifer’s throat out. All while adjusting to life in a world where most of the citizens could kill you by poking you a bit too hard. I would say that goes above and beyond ‘having your life sorted out.’“

The blush that bloomed across their face was so hot that Satan was able to feel it through his shirt, right next to his heart. He chuckled softly as he bent down to kiss their hair.

“I could write for eons about how amazing you are and it still wouldn’t be enough.”

Asmo: Emotions fell right into his area of expertise, and even if they were immune to his charm, Asmo still could smell their emotions like a perfume. And their low self-confidence reeked like rotten fruit. A beautiful arrangement that had been abandoned and left to decay.

The Avatar of Lust was an inquisitive soul (Lucifer would call it being nosy, but whatever.) He was also a firm believer in the theory that you can tell everything you need to know about a person by their skincare routine. So that’s what led to him sneaking into their bathroom while Mammon had dragged them out on one of his stupid get-rich-quick schemes.

“Oh, I don’t think so!” Asmo cried in alarm as he picked up the bottle of human world acne treatment. “They might as well be washing their face with snake venom!”

With a scoff, Asmo kicked the waste basket out from beneath their counter and tossed the face wash in. Bottle after bottle followed it, and Asmo was just about to dump the last bottle of what he assumed was straight rubbing alcohol when he heard the door open.

“Asmo, what the fuck.”

“Darling, we need to have a very serious discussion about your choice in skincare products.” Asmo grimaced as he glanced at the label on the bottle before unceremoniously dropping it into the bottle graveyard. “Can you even pronounce some of these?”

Ah, there it was. The sickeningly sweet smell of self-hatred. Asmo fought the urge to recoil as they practically dove for the trash can.

“Asmo, come on, I have gross skin as it is, don’t take away the only things keeping me from looking like a slice of pizza.”

The sound of glass breaking echoed somewhere in the back of Asmo’s head. That rotten smell was rolling off of them in waves, but he fought off his aversion and knelt down next to them.

They nearly hit the ceiling when Asmo clasped their hands between his own. “Now, now, none of that.”

“None of what?”

Asmo giggled. “You know I wouldn’t bother associating myself with someone unsightly.” one of his hands moved to gently cup their jaw. “You poor thing, you’ve been ruining that lovely face of yours.”

“I didn’t think I could make it any worse.” they muttered, looking away as Asmo stroked a thumb over their cheekbone.

Asmo’s heart clenched, and he leaned forward to kiss them gently on the forehead. “Oh, I can’t stand hearing that kind of talk, especially coming from you. That settles it, then.” he stood with an air of finality.

“Settles what?” they tilt their head in a manner that reminded Asmo of a very adorable puppy.

“We’re going to get you some proper skincare products, and I’m going to spend the rest of the night making you feel like the divine beauty you actually are.”

It was only for a second, but Asmo swore that overpowering smell of rotten fruit was replaced with something just a little fresher.

Beelzebub: Normally, the Avatar of Gluttony wouldn’t complain about someone not eating. More for him. But he didn’t like the way the human was pushing food around their plate without actually eating any of it. They usually loved fried bat wing, too.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, keeping his voice low so his brothers wouldn’t butt in. “Aren’t you hungry?”

They laughed sheepishly, pushing their plate towards him. “Nah, not really. I was snacking all day. Here, you can have it.”

“But I just heard your stomach growl.”

Shame flashed across their face before they looked up at him with a grin that didn’t quite make it to their eyes. “I guess, haha. Just trying to watch my figure, you know?”

Before Beel could swallow down the mouthful of bat wing - when did he even pick it up? They had stood from the table and excused themselves, saying something about having a lot of homework.

It was a few hours before they got back to their room. What had started as them doing their homework in the living room had turned into Mammon begging them to help him study, which then somehow turned to Mammon challenging Satan to a pillow fight. Finally, they had decided to give up and do their homework in their room.

Something delicious wafted out of their room when they opened the door. The source was an overly full plate of food - with extra bat wing, they noticed - sitting on their desk. Blinking in confusion, they shut the door behind them and approached the plate. When they got closer, the note tucked underneath the plate came into view.

Please eat properly. I don’t want you to starve.

-Beel

Belphegor: He never would have called himself needy or touch-starved before. But after spending so long stuck in that attic room with his only interaction being with Lucifer, Belphegor couldn’t seem to get enough physical contact. Especially with the human.

He knew he didn’t deserve their affection, not with how he took advantage of them, manipulated them, murdered them. But the human had enough room in their heart to forgive him, and he would take any ounce of affection they were willing to give.

But it still stung when they flinched.

It was only for an instant, but Belphegor could feel the instinctual tightening of muscles when he draped himself over their shoulder. Feel them jump when he bumped shoulders with them in the hall. Feel their heartbeat speed up when he decided to use them as a body pillow.

“You know you can tell me no, right?” he murmured sleepily as the moment passed and the human settled down.

“Would you stop if I did?”

“Hm...” he hummed, cracking open one amethyst eye to peer at them. “If you don’t like me touching you, why do you let me do it?”

The human sighed, scooting down from their position against their headboard so they were face to face with Belphegor, who still had his hands around their waist like they were a giant teddy bear.

“It’s more like...I can’t believe you want to touch me.”

Now that woke Belphie up - well, as up as he could be while still doing his best impersonation of a koala. “What?”

They laughed, but it sounded strained. “Come on, Belphie, look at me. I’m all...jiggly.”

“So?”

Silence. They looked at him like they were trying to solve a puzzle, and he met their gaze like he was trying to figure out why they couldn’t figure it out.

“It’s not like it matters,” he shrugged, snuggling down into the soft blankets and holding the human a little bit tighter. “I like touching you because you’re you. You being soft and warm is a side benefit.”

“Belphie - “

He yawned, and they genuinely couldn’t tell if it was fake or not. “Shh, I’m going to sleep. You’re my pillow, so don’t talk. Especially if it’s negative stuff like that.”

Honestly, that was the best nap they’d had in a while.

#obey me #shall we date obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #headcanon #honestly this was supposed to be short #I just wanted to write something quick and then this happened

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