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voiceswithoutlips · 3 years

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Calico - Chapter Three

— pairing: Hybrid ot7 x Human Reader (Female) — genre: hybrid AU , fluff, angst, slow burn (like real slow), eventual smut — word count: 1.8K — Rating: M — warnings: trauma, mention of past abuse.

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— chapter summary:

Y/N runs a animal shelter, Calico was built on a simple principle, to help those who were in need. What will Y/N do when her sanctuary is threatened by an unexpected hybrid?

— A/N: This is going to be a series, I’m just getting back to writing, so I’d really appreciate your input and feedback <3

Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3.5 Ch. 4 Ch. 5 Ch. 6

Yeah, you fucking with some wet-ass pussy

Bring a bucket and a mop for this wet-ass pussy

I woke up to WAP blazing through the house at eight in the morning. That was the moment I knew I was going to kill Jason. Well, not literally, but there will be payback.

It was Monday, my favorite day of the week. Mondays have such a bad reputation for absolutely no reason. Personally, I liked a good Monday, it was the day when I organized the rest of my week. In case you are wondering, yes, I’m a nerd and the sight of stationary makes me drool. I got ready quickly, I had planned lunch with Song Hwa today, and after that DOBBY WAS FREE!

“JASON,” I screamed as I stumbled into the kitchen, “you are so dead.”

“Nah, you love me too much!” He laughed. How dare he!

“Who told you that? Just you wait, one of these days I’m going to disown you, you brat!”

Jungkook was sitting at the table eating cereal Jason must’ve gotten him. At least one of us was functional. I could barely take care of myself. Jungkook had gotten a bit more comfortable with us over the past week. The first two days he had stuck to his room but then I introduced him to our PS4 and he was hooked. The kid was a natural. He was wearing Jason’s clothes that were a size too small on him. His eyes widened at my murderous declaration. He was so cute.

“Don’t worry bunny, I won’t kill him ...yet,” I narrowed my eyes at Jason. I still couldn’t understand how we ended up becoming friends. Jason and I were always at each other’s throat when we were in college. Not a day went by without us going head to head, don’t even get me started on the mountain of assignments that we had to do as a punishment for disturbing the peace.

“I’m going out today, do you want to come to the town with me? We could get you some new clothes, and maybe some ice cream, we are running dangerously low,” I asked while sipping on some overly sweet coffee. I mean, I could buy clothes for him but first, I had no idea what his size was, and second I had no idea what his style was. I myself was a walking fashion disaster, if it was socially acceptable I’d wear pajamas every day, to every event but alas! This world is cruel to those who can’t match their clothes.

Jungkook nodded his approval and after our not-so-filling breakfast we left. It was a 2 hour ride to Seoul and on the way I pointed out landmarks in case Jungkook ever wanted to go out on his own. I made a mental note to teach him how to drive. The aircon was on full blast, it was summer, the grumpiest of all seasons.

I was wearing black sneakers, black jeans and a black hoodie like a goth pauper. Jungkook was wearing Jason’s oversized hoodie and jeans, a size smaller, that hugged his lower body like a second skin, I had to constantly remind myself to keep my eyes on the road. Hey, I hadn’t gotten laid in months, not that I’d ever look at Jungkook that way, he was just a kid, even if he had the body of a Greek god.

“Here we are, bunny, you gotta follow some safety guidelines okay?” I said as I parked in front of the mall.

He nodded. I wondered when he was going to start talking comfortably. Was he just shy or scared? Or both?

“First, don’t go anywhere alone, stay in my sight. I don’t want to lose you. And second, let’s hide your adorable ears,” I leaned over and pulled the hood over his head. He blushed, I almost cooed at him, why was he so cute. Be still my heart!

“If it gets too scary, just hold my hand, okay?” I said as we walked in through the doors. It was a good day to go shopping, there weren’t as many people on a weekday. “Go on, you can buy whatever you want, I’ll follow you around,” I grinned, his eyes were darting around from shop to shop.

“Can I?” he asked nervously.

“Of course honey,” I encouraged patting his head.

We spent the next two hours going from store to store. Jungkook was hesitant at first but after he realized that I had meant what I said he got excited. He’d take something off the shelf and run over to show me, he did that with every single thing that we bought. I was having the time of my life looking at him having fun, he was like a kid in a candy store. I wondered how excited he’d be if I actually took him to a candy store, I mentally added it to my to-do list.

He was still non-verbal, which was making me worry. Was he uncomfortable with talking? Was he nervous, scared? I kept wondering. The only times that he had spoken, his voice was small and unsure, as if the words he was saying held the weight of the world.

We ended up being late for the meeting with Song Hwa. The shopping bags barely fit in the trunk but somehow we achieved the unachievable. She had called me in to talk about Jungkook’s case, she had done some research and she insisted on talking in person. It worked for me though, that meant I could take the day off and relax.

Song Hwa’s office was in one of those big commercial complexes. We had her on retainer but she worked for one of the biggest law firms in the country. Jungkook grabbed my hand as soon as I opened the office door. He was sniffing the air furiously, fear on his face. I peeked through the little crack that I had opened. There was a man sitting across from my favorite lawyer. I had seen him around Song Hwa’s firm, he was one of her colleagues. I had no idea why Jungkook was afraid of him, he seemed perfectly normal to me, but then again I didn’t have superhuman abilities unlike my bunny.

His voice got closer and the door opened. As usual, my brain stopped working. I grabbed Jungkook’s neck and pulled his head on my shoulder to hide his face. Song Hwa and the man stepped out of the office and looked at us as if we had sprouted a fifth head. It must’ve been a sight, us holding hands and Jungkook’s face buried in my neck. I just looked at Song Hwa who made some excuse to the man in the beige suit to get him to leave. I was too embarrassed to register what she had said.

“Is he gone?” I whispered, before Song Hwa could answer, Jungkook nodded in my neck. I stepped away from him, still holding his hand. “I’m sorry, are you okay?” another nod. He was redder than a tomato, I guess he was twice as embarrassed.

“What the fuck?” Song Hwa’s expression matched her question. I sighed. I told her what happened as we sat down in her office.

“His name is Brian, he is a sleazebag and a coward. I wouldn’t worry about him,” Song Hwa reassured Jungkook. I didn’t like it, I could see how scared and uncomfortable Jungkook was. He hadn’t let go of my hand and he was clutching it as if his life depended on it. We ended up leaving her office and going to a nearby restaurant for lunch. It was well past noon and I was starving, I’d bet my Bleach collection that Jungkook was starving to. I was used to skipping meals and starving until I got a hunger headache but I couldn’t do that to him. I sucked at taking care of people.

“Here,” Song Hwa handed me a newspaper while I was stuffing some fries in my mouth. She had highlighted a small article, just a paragraph not worthy of front page news. It was about a stolen lab equipment from an Apexi lab. There was no mention of a hybrid.

“Please tell me this is good news,” I said through clenched teeth. Even though I knew it was terrible news, I could always hope. A multinational pharmaceutical company doesn’t just hide the fact that their lab animals were stolen along with a hybrid and their research destroyed. Unless it was something big.

“It's not and you know that,” Song Hwa had terrible bedside manners.

“Let’s talk about this tomorrow, today we feast!” I tried to sound enthusiastic but I failed terribly. Worrying about it would only ruin the rest of the day, not like I could do anything about it at the moment so I decided to ignore the screaming voice in my head and focus on the delicious meal that had suddenly turned bland.

Jungkook had fallen asleep on our way back. His head was resting on the back of the seat, eyes closed, soft lips slightly parted. Every time he scrunched his nose my heart made cooing noises. How was he even more adorable when he slept, I could watch him for hours. His hair was covering his forehead, I had forgotten about his haircut. I wondered if they were as soft as they looked. I lightly ran my fingers through his hair, yep, his hair was super soft. I felt like a stalker so I mentally shook myself and focused on the road.

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whumping-newbie · 3 years

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Whumpblr Re-Introduction Post

It’s been like.... 2 years since I made this blog and pretty much a year since I was properly active, but i figured now is as good a time as any to re-introduce my blog for the people that follow me!

Hello! I’m Abi, she/her, in my 20′s and i guess technically, no longer a whumping-newbie XD but i do not want to change my blog name. I have too many masterposts and links and i do not want to go to the effort of changing every SINGLE one because i changed the name so. The name is staying XD

I love to see reluctant whumpers, creepy captors, lots of hurt/angst and some spicy stuff too!

I have a few stories on this blog that are very much the definition of WIP XD perpetually in progress. But anyway! Under the cut for length.

My main project - Angel:

Most of the stories on this blog are from the perspective of my reluctant whumper, Michał, and his story can be found [Here]. If you’re interested in some of the less whumpy context for the story, it can be found on my writing blog [Here] (and the prequel [Here]). It’s a story about a Princess who is on the run after her country is overthrown and her father executed by the former army General - who will not stop until he has captured the Princess once again. Michał, who is loyal to the Princess, must try and keep his intentions hidden but do whatever he can to stop the General from finding the Princess.

I do have a dark AU for this story, but i don’t really know if i want to post it XD maybe if people are interested.

A project that is on hiatus but is nevertheless here - the Whumper Gathering, aka Lot 1′s Story:

Based on a post [x] [x] by @straight-to-the-pain and @scath001, whumpees are auctioned off and taken by very rich ppl. Idk the worldbuilding isn’t thought out that much XD but here features Lot 1 and a few other whumpees who find themselves caught up in this system. The master post is [Here].

And I find myself working on an ever-growing list of stories with the one and only @justplainwhump! She’s a fantastic writer and RP partner, and we have a few stories together! (most of which are on [her blog], but i really should post more of mine here XD)

Set in her Street Magic universe, one of my OC’s in there is Creepy Charles “Charlie” Atwood, a high-ranking councilman who is sadistic, and has something of an unhealthy obession with his best friend’s wife Marissa. Most of these stories are NSFW, and Sara’s blog is 18+, so I shall repeat this here. Please don’t read or interact with these if you are under 18. The stories are tagged and read-more’d, but please heed them.

There is the Charlie/Marissa/Jason story, where Marissa is held captive in Charlie’s basement and hurt a Lot.

And the Casino AU, a sandbox where Marissa and other whumpees are forced to work for an ultra exclusive brothel on the top floor of a luxury casino (created also with the help of @sableflynn!). (warning for humiliation, captivity, noncon (not explicit), intimate whumpers, sadistic whumpers, lady whump (mostly lady whumpees, but also lady whumpers), human trafficking) There’s plenty of angst, and very little comfort here. Except for #Maritessa. There is plenty of content here, including other collaborations with @what-a-whump and her amazing characters too! Dany and B comf gives me life tbh #Bany. My characters in this universe, aside from Charlie, include Emily Lola, a student who was brought to the casino because she fit a profile and no one will miss her, Mr Jamie and Mrs Leona Fiennes, a married couple searching for entertainment (overly cheerful and low key discovering their taste for sadism too).

For less whump, more comf, and some more character pieces (with a tiny bit of angst for good measure), this is Lilly’s Story - about Charlie’s daughter whom he disowned for her magic. This is more intrinsically tied to the Street Magic universe, but her story focusses on her relationship with a fellow mage.

Lastly, I have something that I would like to post soon. My gift for my secret sunflower from months ago lmao @greatandquestionablecontent!

A reluctant whumper, a fiesty lady whumpee, and a very terrifying grandma (and cats, lots of cats).

I think that’s everything? I would like to post more of my writing here but I need time and inspiration, but for now, this is a nice place to start for anyone who comes across my blog!

#whump #whumpblr #whumpblr intro #whumpblr re-intro

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bb-basbusa · 4 years

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Marinette biodaughter of Bruce Wayne

This au was inspired by @ozmav maribat au.

· Bruce met Sabine when he was training in with the league of assassins

Sabine was the top assassin of the league. Highly respected by Ra's Al Ghoul and the rival of lady Shiva.

· At first Bruce and Sabine disliked each other due to their different codes of ethics, but they slowly came to respect each other and even considering each other friends.

Sabine started questioning the league and started to despise their needless killing, even came to regret killing in some missions in the name of the league.

· With Bruce's influence and help she decides to leave the league of assassins and turn on a new leaf.

· Of course, Ra's refuses to let go of his top assassin, so he makes a deal with her. He gives Sabine an extremely difficult, almost impossible to complete alone with no help. (this is basically John Wick).

· She agrees, Bruce tries to talk her out of it. The mission is just impossible and there is an extremely high probability that she will die.

· This leads both to fight both verbally and physically.

· It ends with a one-night stand.

· Both agree not to talk about it, and both leave on bad terms

· Sabine leaves to complete the mission, during this time Bruce completes his training and leaves the league.

· Sabine of course completes the mission, much to ra's complete surprise.

· He is a man of his word and lets Sabine go with a promise to not seek her out again or interfere with her life and those around her.

· Few weeks later, Sabine discovers that she is pregnant with Bruce's child. And since she an Bruce's friendship ends on bad terms (with Bruce being an emotionally constipated man, who at this point of his life only think about his mission and wouldn't make a good father) Sabine decides not to tell him.

· Sabine travels for a little bit until she arrives in Paris where she meets Tom.

· With time they both fall in love with Tom promising to love her and her unborn child as his own.

· When Marinette is born, Tom officially adopts her as his daughter.

· Marinette grew up loved from her parents and had a normal happy childhood.

· Though Sabine did teach her self-defense because you can't bee to careful.

· When Marinette was ten years old, she meets Damian Wayne. He was separated from his guardian and got lost.

· Marinette offered to help him, but Damian at this point of his life was a little shit and refused. Too proud to even admit he was lost.

· But Marinette was not deterred, and with great determination, kindness, and whining, she was able to make him cave.

· She shows him the way back to his hotel, and saw Dick waiting outside worried out of his mind.

· He saw Damian approaching and immediately ran towards the kids and scooped the baby assassin into a hug.

· " Dami, I was so worried"

· "cease your embarrassing antics Grayson, I am clearly in perfect shape. As if anything in this miserable city can harm me"

· "hey, Paris is amazing. You take that back" shrieked Marinette

· Only then does Dick notice a petite Asian girl glaring at Damian.

· "well hello, who might you be?"

· "I'm Marinette, I helped him find the hotel. He was lost" came the smugly reply

· "I wasn’t lost you imbecile, I didn't require any assistance from you. I just "accepted your help" because you were annoying and couldn't shut up"

· This basically started a shouting match between Marinette and Damian, while Dick observed with amusement.

· He never seen Damian act like a child since he came to his care (Bruce is lost in time at this point, and Dick is Damián's legal guardian) and started to thick that hanging around Marinette may benefit Damian.

· He invites Marinette to the local park, where Titus can stretch his legs, an takes her there with her parents' permeation of course.

· Over the next few days Dick invites Marinette to come with him and Damian (much to the latter's chagrin) whenever they have free time.

· The kids' relationship only started to improve after Marinette helped Damian take down Chloe, who was acting as her glorious bratty self.

· It involved headbands, tooth pics, and a lipstick

· Damián started to respect Marinette and enjoy her company after that (though he won't admit it)

· Marinette starts talking about her friend at home, while her parents listens with amusement until she mentions his full name Damian Wayne.

· Sabine immediately starts asking about his father.

· At first Sabine wanted Marinette to stay away from the Waynes, but seeing how happy her Daughter is, she decided against it.

· Fearing that both kids with time would develop feeling for their unknown half sibling, she calls Dick and tells him about Marinette's parentage.

· Dick doesn't believe this, so Sabine gives him permission to perform a DNA test.

· The test was done, Dick was not amused because damn it Bruce another one

· They both decided to tell the Kids about their blood relationship

· Damian was furious and didn't accept this, at this point of his life he thought he was the blood so of Batman and no one else

· He ended saying some hurtful thing words towards Marinette

· Marinette ends up crying, and runs out of the room

· Damian is immediately consumed by guilt, especially after Dick gives him the "I am very disappointed in you" look.

· He goes to Marinette's room to apologies and hears her crying through the door and feels even worse.

· It takes a lot of him since he never apologized to anyone before, he does it but awkwardly.

· Marinette forgives him because she is a forgiving person and asks Damian not to say stuff like that to her again.

· They become close after that. They exchange numbers and e-mails to talk to each other when Damian and Dick return to Gotham.

· Tom and Sabine are great influence over Damian. With the Dupain-chengs he starts to act more like a boy and less like the heir to the league of assassins. Dick is very happy and grateful about it.

· The couple also parent Dick and coddles him. Both boys are adopted to the family now.

· In Summer Marinette visits Gotham and meets Alfred. The butler grew quite fond of her.

· She may strongly resemble Sabine, but Alfred can see Martha Wayne in her smile. A little of Thomas Wayne in the twinkle of her eyes. And a lot of Bruce when she is concentrating on something.

· Marinette also inherited Bruce's intelligence, so she quickly discovers the family's secret.

· She joins the boys in their training, because extra self-defense lessons can't hurt, but not on petrol. Sabine was very against it.

· Dick introduces her to trapeze, which she fell in love with, together they are the acrobat duo.

· So she spars with the boys, flies with Dick, bakes and cooks with Alfred (" I am pleased to know that at least one Wayne will grow to be a functioning adult". "Alfred please.STAHP")

· And once she is introduced to the girls ("she is so cute" "stop squealing fat girl") she'll hack with Barbra, dance with Cass, and will have a girl's night out with all her older sisters especially Steph.

· Jason meets her after he comes to the cave to use the bat-computer, then out of nowhere a petite Asian girl pops out and offers him cookies.

· "I only known Marinette for five minutes, but if anything happens to her I'll kill everybody in this cave then myself"

· Jason and Damian start fighting for the position of favorite brother.

· Months passes and Marinette grows closer to all the bat-family except Tim, because he is still looking for Bruce and didn't keep tabs on what's happening in Gotham lately.

· The Dupain-Chengs adopts the rest of the Bat-family except Alfred. Alfred adopts you, you do not adopt him.

· The family becomes closer and the communication problem is slowly fixed.

· Jason becomes more open. He and Dick talk about their issues, there was shouting, yelling, accusations and tears. But in the end, it was better. Not perfect but better.

· Also, Jason finally has healthy positive parental figures in his life. "have you been eating?" "I'm proud of you son" "we love you" and other words were spoken towards Jason and the kids.

· "o-okay" he chocks on tears.

· Alfred later introduces the Dupain-chengs to Ma and Pa Kent and joins the " the gathering of family member of heroes, who have more common sense than the heroes"

· Basically, the family members of heroes meet up monthly for brunch to bitch about their hero family member, while trading recipes and baby photos.

· Alfred is the founder. Ma Kent is the president.

· Bruce comes back and everyone is happy. No one tells him about Marinette. They all decide to troll him.

· Marinette and Bruce accidently meet in the cave.

· "Papa' it's good to have you back" Marinette happily hugs Bruce

· Bruce is holding his arms awkwardly in the air, while looking down at Marinette with confusion. "who are you?!"

· "it's me Marinette, don't you remember me" insert fake tears

· "A-ahh?!"

· "Alfred Papa doesn't remember me" she wails dramatically into the butler's chest "he forgotten all about me"

· " Honestly master Bruce, I raised you better than this. Yet here you are disowning your own daughter.

· "yeah, shame on you B" came the eager response from Steph and Jason.

· " I am disappointed in you father" Damian joins in. Cass nods in agreement.

· Dick is struggling to keep his poker face intact, Barbra is pinching his arm hard to keep him away from laughing and exposing the prank.

· Tim is sleep deprived and confused as hell.

· The family takes bets to see when would Bruce figure out they're trolling him.

· Spoilers alert he never does

· They end up telling him and Alfred wins the pot.

· "World's greatest detective indeed"

· "alright I get it Alfred"

· Bruce ends up adoring Marinette. He and Sabine talk again after a decade of not talking and becomes somewhat friends

· He doesn't publicly announce Marinette as his daughter and doesn't claim her, because Tom is her father as well. And it won't be fair to him.

· She may have Bruce's blood, but the heart is all Tom. He is grateful that his daughter grew up loved. He doesn’t want to take Tom away from her.

· When she became Ladybug, she immediately tells her family. They're all freak out about 13 years old being a hero on her own.

· " you need a partner"

· "Papa chat noir is my partner"

· "Dick go to Paris"

· Due to the bat-family involvement, hawkmoth is defeated fast. And he is spending the rest of his life in jail.

· Adrien goes to live with his aunt in England for a while.

· Zatanna and Constantine are called to see if they can wake Emilie from her magic induced coma.

· They do. And Adrien goes back to his mom

· Hawkmoth civilian identity was never outed to the public. The justice league wanted to give the Agrestes some privacy. But there are some conspiracy theories.

· Due to the influence of her older sisters, Marinette isn't as boy crazy as in the show. But she develops an innocent crush on both Adrien and Luka. Much to Bruce's chagrin

· "you won't start dating until your thirty"

· "of course papa, of course"

· Keeping Marinette away from dating was the toughest battle Bruce ever fought. The rest of the family are just sitting behind and enjoying the show

· Her wasn't the most normal or perfect, but Marinette loves it any way.

#maribat au #my writing #bb-basbusa #Bruce Wayne is a good father but a bit helpless #Damian and Marinette are bros

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ourplaceinthecosmosphff · 3 years

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Chapter 22. Compromise

“no' might make them angry but it will make you free.

- if no one has ever told you, your freedom is more important than their anger.”

― Nayyirah Waheed, Salt

[*TW: death/violence/bomb threats, neo nazi/mysoginistic hateful language]

It wasn’t the first time I removed my shoes in the middle of the grand hall, one hand to the wall, eyes to the stairs, legs shaking. I grabbed hold of my sandals and raced up the staircase three long, thin steps at a time.

In my room, I threw the shoes on the bed and rushed to the closet, putting my hair up as I did so I could then reach back and unzip my dress, but it was a futile effort. In anger, I recalled needing Lourdes’ help to zip up before dinner.

I took a deep breath and tried it on my own; but it was useless. I tried again, but on the third time all I could hear was the ressentment in Christopher’s voice when he talked about fucking me after my brother’s funeral in front of both our parents. The anger when he asked who was it that I started seeing after we broke up. More than that, I suddenly recalled every instance where I wanted to protest against something he had said or done, but thought better of it.

“Maggie?” Lourdes’ voice awoke me to the anger I was feeling. “I can’t fucking–” One look at me, and she hurried to my side, removing my hands from the dress so she could unzip me. “I got you.” She said. “There. Nothing we can’t fix, right?”

I felt the fabric loosen and pulled the suffocating halter high neck off. The tears started falling before I even realized they had been there at all, and I felt so frustrated for crying that it only made me want to cry more. I allowed my knees to buckle as I fell to the floor, hands around my neck, breathing heavily.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Lourdes said, calmly. “It’s okay.” She passed an arm around my shoulders and hugged me close, pulling me into her chest. “Nothing we can’t fix.” She repeated.

With her bony, small arms around me as a safe port, I cried the loss of the past nine years, and all the years we almost had.

--- ---- --- I had never in my life felt more alone. And yes, maybe I was being dramatic. Maybe I was amplifying a minor problem into a bigger one as a reflection of my deep anxiety about my new title and role, but the truth is it didn’t feel like that. It felt like – in fact, I was alone in my closet, looking at eight different dresses I had just put on and taken off, thinking about Louis telling me I dressed like our mother. How could I make sure I was being myself? How could I know any of my choices were my own and not just what he described as some subconscious need to be the ‘good daughter’?

There was only one person I knew to call for help with going against family expectations: Constance Parrish Von-Bernstein.

“I’m flattered.” She said when I face timed her, still half dressed on my closet floor. “You never have this type of crisis. I need to bask in it. Maybe I should make a wish.” “This is serious, Constance.” I reminded her, sighing. “I have a chance to be heard by the very people who have been pushing me around not only for the past five months, but essentially my whole life. I need to be heard, to tell them, no. To demand what I want. But I can’t even pick something to wear without feeling like a fraud. How am I supposed to be the Crown Princess when I can’t even dress myself?!” Constance looked put off; weirded out, but definitely like she saw the seriousness of the moment now. “Okay…” She started, slowly. “Well, what’s the issue exactly?” “I feel like I’ve been doing what everyone else wanted me to do my whole life, so how can I stand up for what I want now?” I laughed, humorless. “How did you do it? You wore nothing but black all through our teen years, you started dying your hair pink at eighteen, you ditched University and everything else your parents tried to push you into doing to become a musician! How?! How do I do that?!” She smiled, amused. “Well, Maggie… I guess first and foremost we need to accept there is a big difference between being the first member of my family in nine generations not to go to Sorbonne to live my dream of playing guitar in the subway, and knowing what to wear as the Crown Princess.” “I gather from your tone you think my issue is easier. It certainly doesn’t feel like it.” I scratched my head, pensive. “Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t want to trade positions with you, either. But you were just juggling parental expectations. I am juggling the whole country’s.” “Yes… I can’t argue there.” “So, again… how?!” She sighed, propped her phone up against something and leaned back staring off into a wall as she considered the question. “You need to know what you’re willing to lose.” She said, determined. “What does that mean?” “Well, I wore black as a teenager because it was one of the few things I could control. But I still had to wear whatever my mother told me to at more important occasions. Christmas, family occasions, formal events with your family… there was no way she would risk letting me decide what to wear to those.” As she recounted, I searched my brain to find the memories of a grumpy, teen Constance looking as pretty in pastel as the rest of us in tea parties and polo matches. “At eighteen, I received the first pay out of my trust fund from my paternal grandparents, so I knew even if my mother decided to disown me, I could afford to live on my own. So I dyed my hair pink.” “Wait, I–” I shook my head. “I had no idea that’s what you thought would happen! Your mother would never!” “Well, we both know she would.” She smiled, amused but also slightly sad. “She hasn’t, though. Which is good, I guess. We did have a lot of fights about it, not just the hair, but Sorbonne and everything else, too. The first pay out of the trust was supposed to be for University, and I used it to buy a scooter and a new guitar.” “You live a pretty simple life, though. And it’s your money, you should do what you want.” “Exactly!” She replied, excitedly. “But that’s my point, your family is dependent on taxpayer funding, right?” “Well–” I stuttered. “Not quite. We’re funded by the Royal Trust.” “Which is funded by the government with allocation of tax funds, right?” “Well…” “Chérie, I’m not trying to get evidence for the republican party here. I’m making a point.” “Yes, okay.” I shrugged. “Yes, some of our funds are from the Royal Trust, and a lot of it is private funds from family inheritances, private property, and investments–” “Okay, so.” She continued. “If you get to the meeting and tell them you want something, and they say no. What’s stopping you from insisting? From doing it anyway? It’s not a crime to go against them, right?” “Well–” I reflected. “What I mean is, I waited to dye my hair until I had my trust fund so my mother couldn’t hold my finances against me. Money was freedom. So, if your family threatens to no longer fund you, what will you do? You don’t have a job anymore.” “Well, I…” I sighed. I never had to think about money before. “I do have a trust fund, too, from my great-grandfather. And I’m twenty-five, so the inheritance from my maternal grandfather should be available to me now.” “Well, there you go. So, what can they do if you insist on having it your way?” She asked, with a grin. “Throw you in jail?” She was right. Money was freedom. “I guess there’s only the main question left.” “Which is?” “What do I wear?!” I asked, making us both laugh at the despair evident in my voice. “It’s not just about the clothes.” I justified, more to myself than to her. “I’m afraid I’ll get there, and they’ll be looking at me like I’m a child who should be off playing with something unimportant instead of trying to play pretend with the adults.” “Maggie,” Constance started, laughing, “you’re a Harvard graduated lawyer. You have a solid, successful career you left for this. They need you, you don’t need them. In fact, you’re doing them a favor.” “I’m not sure that’s how they would describe it.” “They can dress it up however they want, facts are facts.” She shrugged. “You know how to stand up for yourself and get shit done, because you’ve done it before. You worked on the corporate world for years. So, stop acting like they’re doing you a favor by allowing you to be there, and start using your experience to shove it in their faces that you’re way overqualified for this.”

She was right; I had a solid, sucessful – if short – career, and at work, I dressed as a lawyer, if anything to remind people I was not just a princess. So I spent the rest of the day repeating the mantra to myself: Constance is right. Constance is right. Constance is right. With that in mind, I dressed pretending I had a big meeting at work: a short sleeved, high neck, satin Jason Wu dress with simple black heels and gold and black earrings.

Then I went to work.

In my mind, this battle would take place around a long, imposing conference room table, where I’d sit in the middle, with all relevant parties around me. The reality was less corporate: my father’s office. High ceilings, chandeliers, antique paintings and vases around the room, and, of course, the victorian furniture. Dad and I sat in armchairs by the fireplace, side by side, his main staff took their seats on the couple of sofas to our sides, and the others, after the three chairs around my father’s desk were taken, brought in extra chairs from other rooms.

One thing I noticed straight away.

“Where’s Cadie?” I asked dad on a low tone, as everyone took their seats. “I thought it would be in poor taste to discuss her with her in the room.” He explained. “You’ll notice Auguste isn’t here, either.”

Present in the room were around a dozen more people, most of whom I had known all of my life, though some more closely than others. That was the case with my parents’ private secretaries, the title we gave to our chief of staff, Clemment Montennon and Madaleign Qadir. I also recognized Abelard Brodeur, my father’s senior aide, Ulysses Caron, the Head of Security, and Edwald Dupont, Head of the Palace Communications Office.

My father made introductions of those I hadn’t had too much contact with before, like Caesar Bisset, head of Outreach Relations, who explained his main role was to coordinate and plan our charitable and humanitarian endeavors, and Alexander Halden, who was liason of relations between the palace and the government.

All of them sat in the sofas, all of them (but Madeleign Qadir) were balding, old, white men with mustaches and resting judgy faces. The people sitting in the chairs in the back, I realized, were their junior aides, with notepads and pens, ready to take notes or provide useful material during the meeting.

I started to feel more at home at once: hierarchy was familiar to me. I had been the lowly intern once, trying to remain as quiet and invisible as possible in the background, writing as fast as I could, desperate to prove myself in the first opportunity to the older men who held my faith in their hands.

I reminded myself that wasn’t the case here. I was the future Queen of Savoy, they worked for me. They needed me. I held my head high and squared my shoulders back.

“Thank you all for making room in your schedules for this meeting.” My father started, in French. “As this meeting was set somewhat suddenly, perhaps we should go over our goals for today before we start. In truth, I believe today is a culmination of what has been…” He paused, and heaved a long, heavy sigh. “Some tremendously difficult last few months. As we’re all aware, after we lost the Crown Prince last year, as my eldest child, Princess Marie-Margueritte became Crown Princess Marie-Margueritte.”

Discreetly, I fidgeted with my hands so the nail in my right thumb was gently scratching my left palm. I gulped, trying to swallow the familiar knot on my throat. ‘I have to be able to talk about this without crying. I need to talk about this to get through this meeting. I can’t cry in front of these people.’

“We took a few months to allow us all to grieve properly, as a family, and also as a country. There was also the need for the Crown Princess to make the necessary arrangements to leave her private career behind and, as we discussed around the time of the funeral, to put distance between her previous image and the new one she must take on in order to fulfill this new role.”

So they had discussed this at the time of the funeral. A need to ‘put distance’ between who I was and who I needed to become. And I wasn’t even included.

“But it is a new year.” Father continued, with renewed energy. “Crown Princess Marie-Margueritte and I have had a private discussion and we have decided the time has come for her to take a more active role in the process of preparation for her future as Monarch.”

He paused, allowing the words to settle. I still stared at my own hands, trying to breathe deeply and slowly. ‘Preparation for her future as Monarch’ sounded so… crucial. Important. Fatal, almost.

“So,” he said, now more upbeat, adjusting himself in his seat, “with that in mind, we arrive at the agenda for this meeting as discussed by the Crown Princess and I. We are to discuss and decide on the plans regarding the Crown Princess’ future work, security, and office in her new role as the heir apparent.”

There was a pause. I waited. My father looked at me, then at the others.

“Perhaps it would be useful to start with providing the Crown Princess with an update on what the current situation is with regards to the public opinion.” The king added. “Edwald?”

Mr. Dupont, Head of the Communications Office, a man reasonably young in comparison to the others, pushed his glasses up his nose with his pinky, opened a folder in his lap, and began to speak.

“Right. Your Majesty, Your Royal Highness. We are still monitoring what the press knows in regards to the Crown Princess’ extended stay in Britain. As of now, seems we were able to get the Crown Princess back in the country without them finding out, but we will continue to stay alert for any rumors in that regard.”

“Do they know about Princess Lourdes-Abigail’s suspension?” My father asked. “As far as we are aware, sir, no.” Mr. Dupont replied. “We do have at the moment, though, requests for comment on a poll the Sunday Gazette ran online where 71% of respondents didn’t agree with the statement: ‘the Royal Family has kept an active working role after the death of Crown Prince Louis-Adolphe’.” My father sighed, gravely. “Did we give them a comment?” “No, sir. An online poll of no impact.” Mr. Dupont returned. “Most people just vote to see the estimated results, or because they’re bored.” “Good.” He nodded. “Go on.” “Regard–” “Wait, of how many?” I interrupted. “Pardon?” “How many people answered the poll?” “71%, ma’am.” “No, 71% of how many people? What’s the total of respondents?” “Oh, uh.” He looked through the papers on his folder again. Behind Mr. Dupont, an aide got up from his chair and handed him a couple more sheets of paper. “Ah, right. The total number of respondents in the poll was 61,359, ma’am.” “Were they given an abstention option?” “No, ma’am, only agree or disagree.” I nodded. Mr. Dupont went on. “As I was saying–” “Sorry,” I interrupted again, “One last thing, promise, do you have the analytics numbers?” “The–?” Mr. Dupont seemed confused. I looked at the aide behind him, a young man with freckles. “Sir? What’s your name?” His eyes grew wide. “M-me?” I smiled. “Yes, sir.” “Matthew.” “’Ma’am’”, his boss corrected. “Matthew, ma’am.” The aide repeated. “Do you happen to have the analytics data on this poll, Matthew?” “Uhm. Well, not a full analytics report, ma’am. But I do have a print out of the webpage, so I have a sharing estimate for social media.” “What are you talking about?” My father asked, confused. “Analytics is a… a tool to interpret patterns of data from basically anything.” I summarized. “On websites that run polls, it could be useful to know how many people viewed it as many might have just viewed it, but not voted, which doesn’t mean they weren’t influenced by it. And any new article online has an option for the reader to share it on their social media platforms, so that’s what Matthew will tell me next.” “Well, the data is rounded up, we don’t have the details.” Matthew explained. “Well, then we can skip it.” My father said. “That’s a point for another meeting, Margueritte. Let’s focus on our agenda today.” I wanted to argue, but before I could gather the courage, Mr. Dupont went on about me next, which was distracting enough to make me let the subject go. “Regarding the press on the Crown Princess specifically,” Mr. Dupont continued, “The months following the funeral saw a record high number of press profiling her biography, and of course there were the, uhm, ‘viral’ issues.” “Viral issues?” I asked, when he used a strange tone on the word ‘viral’. “The…mainstream section of the world, ma’am, meaning those outside of Savoy and who otherwise seemed to be uninterested in the story of The Royal Family of Savoy, were very interested to discover it’s new heir was a former military servicewomen–” “I–” I stuttered, “I only did the minimum service of 6 months.” “They don’t seem to care about the specifics.” He replied. “They did show a lot of interest for the picture of you in uniform during a drill, which was released through the palace at the time.” He added, shrugging slightly. “The Americans, specifically, seemed excited about your time in Harvard and New York, and a lot of articles were written with testimonials from people who, at least, claim to have studied with you at the time.” “Oh.” I said, uncomfortable. “What–what did they say?” “Positive things.” Mr. Dupont replied, short. “Though, at home, despite the King’s vow of faith in Her Royal Highness during the Crown Prince’s funeral, Savoyen press remains… unconvinced of your… capabilities.”

I looked at my father, who was staring at his hands, absentmindedly. So this was why my father had used his eulogy to public declare his confidence in me in the role. Not because it was true. It was a PR move. No wonder he didn’t want to answer my question afterwards.

“What ar-” I stuttered. “Do you know any specifics of their criticism?” “They seem to worry about your work record the most, ma’am.” He replied. “Not a lot of royal work, some rumors of controversial stances as a lawyer, and uh. Not enough… How to best describe it? Personality, I suppose.” “They think I’m boring.” I helped. Seeming uncomfortable, he nodded. “International press definitely doesn’t, though.” He said. “And they have greatly influenced public opinion at home. It is very likely our national press is… upset they haven’t been given any insight on what your future will look like.”

‘And who’s fault is that?’, I thought, bitterly.

“Speaking of work,” I started, “Shall we talk about that next?” “Before we do,” my father said, before looking at Mr. Dupont, “what about the new development from last night? Where do we stand?” Confused, I looked around the room, but other than Montennon, Qadir, and Mr. Dupont himself, everyone else seemed confused as well. “We are closely monitoring the situation, but not rumors as of yet, sit.” He replied. “But I reiterate it would be best to get ahead of it.” “What happened last night?” I asked.

My father fixed me with such a dry expression I felt almost unbearably embarrassed for having forgotten: the Chris breakup.

“Oh.” I said, awkwardly. “Right.” “We’ll get back to you, Edwald.” My father told him. “Now, what need we discuss regarding your work, Margueritte?” “Well,” I started, pausing quickly to take in a deep breath, before reaching down at the ground for the folder I had left under my chair.

I opened it to find the copies I had made of the proposal I prepared the previous year while using anything I could to distract myself from the grief, and passed it around the room.

“This a summarized version, but I can have a more detailed one made tonight if you wish,” I prefaced, walking back to my seat after handing them each a copy, “I used a business proposal model, so forgive me if I might have missed any important information.”

The proposal detailed causes and organizations I wanted to focus on. I was patron of a handful of charities currently, and if I was to work full time as a royal, priority number one was to get that number up. It was work that I liked: useful, helpful work that made a difference in people’s lives.

But most importantly: it was a way of honoring my brother. I had experience with ‘easy’ causes: elderly care, childcare, things that were easy for anyone to empathize with, things that anyone would agree matters. To put it simply: things that wouldn’t ruffle feathers on the press.

This time I picked causes that mattered to me, and it mattered to me to make the kind of impact that my brother would have.

“This is impressive, ma’am.” Said Caesar Bisset, the Head of Outreach Relations. “Truly inspirational.” The others nodded, appreciatively. No one said anything else. “But?” I prodded. They looked at each other. Mr. Bisset gulped, smiling uncomfortably. “Some of these causes, although greatly important, would not send the right message, ma’am.” “What causes do you see a problem with, exactly?” I asked, as calmly as could be. “Not me, ma’am!” He corrected, quickly. “I mean, to the public, to the press, there could be a lot of misunderstanding around some of these areas.” “Such as?” “Margueritte,” my father started, with a careful smile. “As you know there is still a large amount of people in Savoy who identify as catholics, and as the representatives of the faith in the country, we have a responsibility.” “I understand.” I assured him, lying. “But I would still like to hear the specifics of what the issues would be.”

He looked at Mr. Bisset, who nodded.

“Well, ma’am,” he started, “as an example, take this idea, item two, where you express a wish of becoming a patron of Flag House, an organization devoted to providing support to homosexual youth…” “They provide counseling for those with unaccepting families, housing for LGBT people living in an unsafe and unwelcoming environment, and even classes to get them on a path towards a career or to further their education.” “Yes.” He nodded. “And the issue of homosexualism is still somewhat–” “Homosexuality.” “Pardon?” “You said ‘ism’.” I explained, sighing. “That’s a terminology used for diseases and health issues. The correct word is homosexuality.” He nodded. “Oh. Right. Still–” “And they don’t just work with gay people.” I expanded. “The LGBT community is wide. Trans people’s life expectancy is 35 years-old in Savoy, and they are around 65% of all sex workers and 73% of all unhoused people in the country.” “No one is saying the organisation isn’t good, Margueritte.” My father argued. “But there is a reason we don’t just announce patronages. There’s a lot of research that goes into this, a lot of prep work–” “And that’s what I want to do.” I replied. “We could be halfway done with the prep work if we had set the wheels in motion the first time I did this research, but I sent August this material in November last year and never heard anything.” Mr. Montennon, Auguste’s boss, who would have told him not to get back to me, fidgeted in his chair. “The issue would simply be too polemic, ma’am.” “So would be standing up against slavery before the 19th century, but King Willem III did it anyway.” I replied. “It’s not exactly the same, sweetheart.” “Why not?” I asked. “Look at the research I just gave you. Our job is standing up for the marginalized, today the most marginalized community in our society are the unhoused, specially trans sex workers of color who are kicked out of their homes at a young age due to bigotry.” “Our job is to serve the country.” My father insisted. “But part of that is knowing what the country needs from us. And largely, Savoy is just not ready for this type of work.”

He uncrossed his legs, and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees to look at me.

“Margueritte, you have a difficult job ahead of you. I know that like few people can. So let me assure you, the most important thing to succeed here is knowing how and when to compromise.” He paused, intensely. “And when not to. This is not something we can compromise on.”

I heaved a long, unsatisfied sigh. I wish I could have told him of Louis. I wish I could have told him how much this mattered to him. How much he spoke of his own privilege, of knowing that no matter how big the fear of being rejected was, he knew he would never need to fear for his safety like so many in his community did. I wish I could have told my father this, as I knew it might have changed his mind.

“So, Mr. Bisset, from this proactive document my daughter has given us, what do we think would be a good fit for her to work with?” Mr. Bisset looked away from my father into the paper in his lap again. “Well, sir, we would need to tweak a few of the specifics, but this suggestion for a partnership with some of the Universities in Savoy for a series of discussion panels on important issues for the population has a lot of potential.” “Ah,” my father replied, appreciatively. “Progress!” I gulped, suppressing a roll of my eyes at the condescension. “Won’t that just make me look more boring?” I asked. “I want to do it, but it would be better to balance it with something else, too, wouldn’t it? How about the patronage of the Claire Bauton Foundation?” Mr. Bisset nodded. “Women’s issues is a wonderful topic, ma’am, and would be a good fit as the public is very interested in the prospect of Savoy’s first Queen in her own right in over three centuries. I’ll do some research on it.” “Perfect.” My father said, happily. “Next?”

I sighed, fidgeting with my own hands; mouth dry.

“Perhaps we might go over the Crown Princess’ household, sir.” Montennon said. “Seeing as we are discussing work, her team would have to coordinate with Bisset on any upcoming projects.” He nodded. “Let’s. Please, Clemment, would you explain to us again the reason for appointing Auguste Authier as the Crown Princess’ Private Secretary.” “Of course, sir.” Montennon replied. “Ma’am, the gist of the matter comes down threefold. One, tradition.”

C. C. Montennon had been my father’s Private Secretary for almost two decades. He knew me from when I was still a bony, annoying child, but that wasn’t the reason he spoke ‘down’ at me. In fact, he had a gift of always appearing uppity whenever he said anything at all, even to royalty.

Montennon explained that traditionally, royal Private Secretaries were trained by their predecessor, the senior Secretary working for the Monarch. That way, every Monarch had a secretary that had been trained in the staff of the previous Monarch by the previous Monarch’s Secretary.

“This way every Private Secretary has the most complete knowledge one can have of the royal household and work.” He said. “So that fewer mistakes are made.”

I considered his words for a while. The logic seemed fine, it was the execution that I had an issue with.

“The second point, of course,” he went on, “is the matter of nationality.” “Seriously?” I interrupted. “Because Cadie is American?” “Ms. Mendel’s nationality could send the wrong messaging if she was selected for the highest position in your household, ma’am.” “Will I have to pretend I didn’t go to University in America, either?” “Margueritte, please.” My father said, scratching both eyes with his hand. “I think it’s a reasonable question considering this logic.” I argued. “The role of the Monarch, ma’am, and thus the role of the Crown Prince–uh, Princess is to represent and lead the country to the best of his–sorry, her abilities.” He explained, repeatedly stuttering on the need to correct himself, “and to hire a foreigner to such a high position would indicate you did not find a Savoyen of equal ability or trust.” “Or alternatively,” I argued, “that I hired the best person to the job and promoted her when the opportunity arose.”

Judging by the looks they all exchanged, I could see that was a battle lost.

“In order to do good work I have to be the one to choose my own staff.” I insisted. “It makes no sense otherwise. I assure you I am perfectly capable of hiring the objectively best person for the job.” “I assure you, ma’am,” Montennon insisted, “I have been overlooking Mr. Auguste Authier’s training for the past ten years and he is the most qualified man to prepare you for the difficult role ahead.” “You said it was threefold. What’s the third reason?” I asked Montennon. He sighed. “Well, ma’am, it’s hierarchy. Much of the Royal Family works as any business, and Auguste Authier has seniority. He’s been a member of the Royal staff longer and it would be inappropriate to promote Ms. Mendel to a higher position when she hasn’t earned it.” “As the person who she’s been working for since being hired I’d argue she has.” I contradicted. “Auguste has been training for a decade to assist the next Monarch, Margueritte.” My father told me, softly. “Cadence is too young. What if we compromise by looking into training her as an aide, Clemment? She would be a good assistant to Auguste, don’t you think? I’m sure they would work well together, right?”

I was sure they wouldn’t; Cadie was only a few years older than me, and Auguste was almost old enough to be our father. He had never respected Cadie’s abilities or my choice in hiring her. That was part of why I didn’t want to work with him in the first place.

“It would simply be too disruptive to disregard the plans that have been in motion for years regarding the staff of the next future Monarch.” Montennon finished. “But that hierarchy, those plans, were established when my brother was the heir.” I said, bravely but, also, timidly. “Not me. If we have to adapt to a new heir, and the new heir has to adapt to the work, it makes sense that the hierarchy and plans have to be adapted too, right?”

They seemed in no rush to reply. The silence floated around the room for a few seconds before my father sighed.

“It’s not how this works, I’m afraid.” He said. “Should we move on?”

And that was that. Another compromise. One word from the King and that matter was, apparently, closed.

Mr. Caron, the Head of Security, cleared his throat and sat a little taller as he began to speak. “Sir, if I may?” My father nodded his way, and he went on. Looking at me, an intense expression on his face, he said, “Ma’am, while we are discussing staffing choices… The occurence in Britain with your detail on the train…”

I tried to brace myself for a scolding, dreading everything around me, wishing I could go to my room.

“I wish to assure you no such thing will ever happen again. The officers in question have been severely reprimanded, suspended and will retake training upon returning to work. We take the incident extremely seriously and hope this won’t permanently shake your confidence in your security.” I stuttered, awkwardly. “Oh, that–That’s fine. Really, I’m fine. I didn’t even know they’d been suspended.” “Their only job is to keep you safe, and they lost you for three days.” My father remarked, calmly, not looking at me. “They are lucky to keep their jobs.” “Right.” I nodded, nervously. “Of course… Speaking of which. The… incident, as you called it, was indeed unfortunate, of course, but since the topic has been brought up, I suppose it is as good a time as any to talk about my security detail in general. The truth is I was already uncomfortable with it before.” “Uncomfortable, ma’am?” Mr. Caron asked, “Regarding the officers? Their competence?” “No, not at all.” I shook my head. “I mean, I spent the previous decade and a half with Joyce as my primary officer. She went with me to America, to University, and in every job I ever had.” He nodded. “Of course, ma’am. The bond that many years of service creates is, of course, highly valued in this field. It is essential for the work we do.” “I’m glad you think so.” I smiled. “Because I would like for Joyce to be reinstated as my primary Protection Officer.” Mr. Caron took in a long breath, watching the wall behind me. “Ma’am, though I appreciate how difficult such a structural change is, the fact is that Ms. Espinoza–uhm, Joyce, that is, simply does not have the proper, more advanced, specified training an officer for this position needs.”

“Why is that?”

The room was quiet. One by one, they all exchanged a look with the person closer to them and then looked at me.

Mr. Caron spoke. “Why is what, ma’am?” “As a member of Palace security staff, why doesn’t Joyce Espinoza have the proper training needed to work for a senior royal?” “Oh, well, ma’am, see…” He started, “Our officers receive personalized training for the specific work that they will be assigned to. That way every royal family member can be sure they are in the right hands for the level of security threat they are under.” “But…” I started, “Doesn’t that just create a gap in the abilities of the staff? Don’t you then just have some officers who are qualified for harder jobs and some who aren’t?”

They were quiet. Mr. Caron opened his mouth to reply but closed it again, pensively.

“Margueritte, this meeting is not meant to reevaluate how we do staff training.” My father objected. “Maybe it should.” I argued, causing him to look at me, brows raised. But he ignored my point. “We are here to discuss your staff and the fact is Ms. Espinoza does not have the proper training to keep you safe.” Before I could argue, he added, louder, “That is not something we are compromising on. Not your safety.”

I sighed.

“Ulysses, do you have the security file on the Crown Princess?” Mr. Caron looked at my father with wider eyes. “Y-yes, sir. I have the raw file with me, but it hasn’t been… filtered.” “Good. Show it to her.”

Awkwardly, Mr. Caron received a separate, larger file from the aide sitting near the window. He got to his feet and walked over to me.

I opened the file to an identification page; it contained most of my personal information from my full name, age, hair color and length to weight, height, and identifying marks, like the barely visible, tiny scar I had on my left knee from a bike fall as a child (I noticed the absence of my tattoo). I looked at Caron.

“What am I looking at?” “Well–” He started. “That is what your security needs to have on their minds every second of their working day.” My father answered instead.

When I turned the page, I realized the following pages were separated by date. The first was marked only a couple of days after Louis’ death. It read:

‘Letter received by the Neunant Post. Unmarked. Security camera footage resulted in no suspects of delivery. It reads:

THE THRONE MUST NOT GO TO PRINCESS MARIE MARGUERITE. WOMAN ARE INFERIOR TO MEN AND THE RIGHT ORDER OF CIVIL SOCIETY CANNOT BE UNDERMINED. LET THE GOVERNMENT BE ADVISED: SHOULD THE PRINCESS BE ANNOUNCED AS THE NEXT HEIR THERE WILL BE AN ATTACK ON POINTE CALLOIS BRIDGE. WE ARE AN ORGANIZATION DEDICATED TO RETURNING SAVOY TO ITS FORMER GLORY. PRINT THIS LETTER ON THE FRONT PAGE OR PEOPLE WILL DIE…’

With my heart beating almost painfully in my throat, I looked at my father. He wasn’t looking at me. He wasn’t looking at anyone. His eyes were opened, but he was seeing something I could not see.

I turned the page. The next few threats were prints of hate comments on news sites, but they seemed slightly superficial compared to the first. I noticed they had a yellow sticker to the up corner of the page, whereas the first one had a red one. I turned the pages, finding another red one marked about a week after the first. It read:

‘Letter dropped on the gates of Callois Palace among the messages of condolences for Crown Prince Louis. Security Camera footage could not identify the suspect amongst the crowd. It read:

REST IN PEACE OUR GOOD ARYAN KING LOUIS ADOLPHE!!! THE THRONE WILL NEXT GO TO OUR ALPHA PRINCE ADRIEN WHO WILL LEAD THE COUNTRY INTO PROSPERITY. PASSING THE CROWN INTO PRINCE LOUIS ADOLPHE’S SISTERS WOULD TURN THE COUNTRY INTO A RADICAL LIBERAL HELL IT MUST NOT BE ALLOWED TO HAPPEN. THE KING MUST ANNOUNCE THE PRINCESSES WILL NOT INHERIT LIKE HIS SISTERS DIDNT. DO NOT DISMISS THIS. IN CASE THIS ISNT ANNOUNCED THE PRINCESSES WILL BE A FATALITY OF THE BATTLE FOR THE SURVIVAL OF SAVOY. YOU HAVE FIVE DAYS.

The following page contained a drawing of a symbol in red paint. Analysis confirmed it was pig blood. Symbol under analysis by the Interpol.’

I gulped, painfully, mouth dry. “Did they ever have an answer for what the symbol was?” Though I wasn’t looking at him, Mr. Caron asnwered softly, “With assistance from the NSA, ma’am, they believe it is linked to a jihadist terrorist organization.”

I turned a few more pages, hands shaking. Dated from a few weeks after Louis’ death, to a couple of months after, to just two weeks ago, they were prints of online messages, discord servers, reddit discussion threads, untraceable Twitter accounts, throw-away emails, sent to official royal email addresses, physical Palace address, personal email accounts of staff members, journalists, and any number of random people who dared say anything positive about us online.

‘THE CROWN PRINCESS ATTENDS BODY WORK GYM NEAR HER APARTMENT MOST MORNINGS AT 8AM FROM MONDAY TO FRIDAY. SHE ALWAYS PARKS IN THE SECOND FLOOR GARAGE. SHE LOOKS HOT IN LEGGINGS TOO BAD SHE’LL GET BLOWN UP NEXT TIME SHE IS THERE’

‘THE USURPER MARIE MARGUERITTE WILL DIE KING ADRIEN DOWN WITH THE FEMINAZIS WHO WEAKENED OUR MILITARY BY INCENTIVIZING WOMEN TO SERVE AND NOW WOULD WEAKEN OUR NOBLE ROYAL FAMILY’S BLOODLINE. YOU WILL NEVER FIND ME BUT YOU WILL SOON KNOW MY NAME I WILL CARVE IT IN HER SKIN. I KNOW THE ADDRESS OF HER WORK AND THE RESTAURANT SHE EATS AT WITH COWORKERS. THEIR NAMES ARE SOPHIE THE DAUGHTER OF THE CORRUPT MEDIA MOGUL AND LARISSA THE UGLY IMMIGRANT. SHE WILL NEVER BE QUEEN’

‘I AM A HIGHLY TRAINED FORMER MILITARY CAPTAIN PRINCESS MARIE MUST NOT HAVE A CONFIRMATION CEREMONY. IF YOU HAVE A CEREMONY WE WILL CARRY OUT A MASSIVE ATTACK AGAINST THE ATTENDEES. I HAVE AT MY DISPOSAL A SEMI AUTOMATIC RIFFLE AND A COLLECTION OF PIPE BOMBS.I DO NOT WANT TO SPILL PURE SAVOYEN BLOOD. I AM GIVING YOU A CHANCE. CANCEL THE CONFIRMATION AND ANNOUNCE THE ABDICATION OF PRINCESS MARIE IN FAVOR OF PRINCE ADRIEN OR ONE WAY OR ANTOHER I WILL MAKE SURE THEY DIE. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED’

A few of the pages detailed untraceable phone calls made to official, unlisted numbers inside the palace. There was a collective letter sent by chief editors of the major Savoy newspapers detailing a rise in what they describe as ‘the worst kind of harassing, toxic, hateful comments’ ever before targeted at the royal family in general, but specifically, me.

The next few pages had, chillingly, photographs. It was hard to focus enough to read the text around them, but according to the captions they had all been sent by physical mail or email, some having been discovered by police in ‘intercepted phones’.

“Wha–what are intercepted phones?” I asked, my voice a mere whisper. Ulysses Caron’s reply matched my tone. “Phones intercepted by police during reids, investigations or after criminals are arrested. Some were found internationally and sent to Savoy Police.”

I nodded as though I didn’t have another million follow up questions. The photos were of me, but in cases when I had been photographed with other people, there were pictures of them as well.

They were pictures of me walking my dogs near my apartment, in Tallmound, before Louis died. Pictures of me walking to and from the parking lot at work, both before Louis died and on the day I went to quit. Pictures of me in the gardens of the Palace, in some places we knew people could see from the gates. It didn’t usually bother us as it wasn’t an issue unless they were watching to wait for us.

These weren’t paparazzi pictures, they were worse. Grainy, from farther away, from an upper angle – drones? My head hurt. I felt dizzy. My stomach ached. In one picture, I was walking near the beach with Lourdes in Corsilla.

I looked up at Mr. Caron, realizing the room had fallen into a deep, strained silence as they waited for me to say anything.

“My sister. Is she–is she pictured, too?” Mr. Caron looked at my father before replying. I did, too. He was still quietly looking inwards. “Yes, ma’am.” Mr. Caron said, finally. “Not as frequently. But there has also been a recent rise.” I fought back tears. “And–Did th–Louis?” I stuttered. He nodded, gravely.

I closed the folder with a thud. I looked away, at the windows. The sun was setting outside.

“Don’t you see…?” I asked, weakly. “This is why we can’t train our officers differently.” I looked back at them. “You’re deciding that some of us receive more threats than others and therefore we need different security, but what is stopping anyone who wishes to harm us from harming someone we love to get to us?!” “I assure you, ma’am, all our officers are highly trained to the task they need to perform–”

I got to my feet, breathless. Slowly, I walked around the chair and rested a hand on it, the other now clutching the heavy folder. I thought of my brother reminding me to stand up for myself, and of the reminder Harry had written in the book he sneaked into my bag.

I looked back at them, and sighed.

“You are going to double the number of protection officers in my sister’s detail.” I said, as authoritative as I could. “Double–?” Mr. Caron started. “And Cadence Mendel is going to be my Private Secretary.” I said, as if I hadn’t been interrupted. “Auguste can stay on for support. He can be a… consulting aide. I’m sure his experience will be valuable.” “Margueritte.” My father started. I did not acknowledge him. “Joyce Espinoza will head my security detail.” “Ma’am, she does not have the necessary training–” “Then train her!” I said. “It is not enough for security to be well trained, clearly, as your supposedly highly trained officers were sleeping while I ran off in London. If they had known me, if I had trusted them, like I do with Joyce, I assure you that would not have happened.” He didn’t have an answer. He did look at my father though, helplessly. “Training is not enough, Mr. Caron. Our security is with us wherever we go, we must trust them. Intimacy isn’t a replacer for training, either, so let’s work on both. Okay?” “Margueritte.” My father tried again. “Why don’t we talk about this privately?” “That won’t be necessary.” I replied. “It would have been useful months ago, after Louis passed. Now I don’t need to, anymore.” I looked at him, finally, calmly. “I will do good work, dad. I will. I will do work that I am proud to do, and that Louis would have been proud of, too. And I will be happy to do it. But let it be known that I will do it because I am choosing to do it.” I looked at the rest of them. “I did not want this.” I confessed. “I wish for nothing more than for my brother to be in this meeting instead of me. But I am all you have.”

Still, they were silent.

“Well, I will do it. Not because I have to. What can you do, really, if I refuse to? Throw me in jail?” I echoed Constance’s words, a humorless grin in my lips. “You need me. You have me. So, I am willing to discuss my work. But we will not compromise on my staff, or on my security. Or Lourdes’ security.” “Margueritte.” My father repeated, more forcefully now. “I am a lawyer. A good one.” I stopped him, angrily. “I had my own life before this and I can get it back. Say no and I will just send a resume and get another job next week.” I told them, daringly, shrugging. “I do not need or want the Crown. If you want to take it, this is what I need. If not,” I sighed, heavily, “well, let’s hope Lourdes is ready to be Queen.”

I waited, breathing heavily, anxious, hands shaking. My father said nothing else. Neither did any of the others. I could barely see them through my anger.

“I expect my Private Secretary to get in touch in the next twenty-four hours so we can get to work. If not,” I sighed, “You can expect my abdication letter by the end of the week.”

With that, I turned on my heels, and left the room.

--- ---- ---

Business Bitch Outfit

[A/N: ITS 6 AM AND I HAVE NOT SLEPT. I HAVE WORK IN 5 HOURS. I HAVE A HEADACHE. THIS IS ALL TO SAY PLEASE FORGIVE ANY SPELLING/GRAMMAR/NONSENSE MISTAKES. Seriously, I am so grateful for your patience. I had to move out of my house in 2 weeks into a much more expensive apartment. First time I had to do the whole moving process thing (long story) and it is not great. 0/10 do not recomend. Why do I own stuff? Also my job is not going well. I fully expect to be let go in January. Maybe I am being a paranoid anxious bitch maybe I am being a self aware queen. We’ll see. But it’s definitely the second option. Anyway, I’m all unpacked now and loving living alone for the first time ever. I think that’s all I needed to say. Oh, also, I did some research for the death threat part but -- thankfully -- I am not fully versed on it, so sorry if its a little cringe? Anyway. Let me know your thoughts?! What do you think will happen? Will Maggie’s boss bitch ultimatum work?! Will the dramatic Chris breakup leak to the papers?! Tune in next week to find out! LOVE YOU!]

#Princeharryff #prince harry fanfic #prince harry fanfiction #princeharryfanfiction #Princeharryfanfic #prince harry #brf #modern royalty au #modern royalty fanfic #fanfiction #OPITCphff #chapters #sorry i said bitch like 3 times in this AN #i cannot stress this enough #it is 6am

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astranne · 4 years

Text

Miraculous and The Light (HC)

Ok, so. This HC is based on this idea. It’s a miraculous x dc crossover and one of the best ideas, I’ve read recently. I really liked it and this is why I’m forcing myself to write my ideas down.

Before we start the HC, I need to clear some things. Marinette becomes the guardian in age of 13, the kwami are teaching her as good as they can. Luka has the snake miraculous, Chloé the bee (but new costume), Kagami the dragon (again new costume) and Adrien is Chat Noir. Alix has the bunny and Kim the ape miraculous. (The two are chaos and they smelled Lila’s bullshit before she came back the second time). They deal with Hawkmoth as good as they can and they do good. Until Lila does her shit again. She manipulates Alya, which leads also Nino to be one of her followers and since Adrien is his best friend, he starts to listen to Lila. He becomes obsessed with Ladybug and her identity. The team doesn’t really notice, since it’s subtle and slowly becoming worse. So, now let’s start with the HC.

The Team protects Paris, Marinette is the leader

The situation becomes worse, the akumas take longer to defeat

They try to contact the JL, but nobody listens

And Chat Noir comes lesser to the fights, claiming his privat life is stressfull

At first, everybody understands, but it doesn’t stop and Chat becomes like a bad behaved child/brat

Lila causes another Hero Day, the Team almost looses. Chat Noir didn’t show up and the Team is angry. Chloé is ready to skin a cat

After the Hero Day, they accidentally reveal their idtities. Their group becomes closer, everybody can see, they work even better now.

Chat is envy

And Tikki is angry. No, scratch that. She’s mad. This boy could’ve been such a good cat, and now this?!

Since Plagg is her opposite, and she’s the one of Plagg, they keep each other in balance. And they aren’t in balance at all. She takes over Marinette (while she is Ladybug) and starts to rip Chat/Adrien in shreds

Whole Paris witness this and is terrified. Who knew Ladybug had such power?

Chat tries to save his face/life/’hero’ persona, but since Marinette is the guardian, she stripps him of his Miraculous, while Tikki wipes out his memories. Adrien’s former friends are sad, but also glad, they have one problem less

But now. Since Tikki used her more of her powers, some people notice, such as Klarion. He’s the server of chaos, but keeps in balance with creation. And the two aren’t balanced at all.

He talks to the Light, and surprise, surprise. Ra’s al Ghul and Vendal Savage felt it too

They begin to search and are surprised, that so many miraculous are active. The Light digs deeper and Vendal is very close getting up and burn Paris down. And take Hawkmoth with it

The inner circle of the Light (Vendal Savage, Klarion, Ra’s al Ghul, Lex Luthor, Deathstroke (there are still more members, but I will explain shortly))

Now, their primar goal is not to take over the world, or make everyone ‘see the light’. That’s what the ‘lesser’ members think (the ones, who are not in the inner circle) They want to keep the balance in the world, keep ‘peace’. But they know, it can’t be always peace, with creation there comes always destruction (Tikki and Plagg are totally their inspiration and mentors or whatever you could call that) And for this, they don’t always do ‘good’ things, like heroes do

Bc of this, every hero, every other villian thinks, that the light is bad. It’s a very good cover and so they can hide their true plans. So, the inner circle sends Black Manta after the Young Justice (the season 2 happens here) and go to Paris.

They find the miraculous users while fighting an amok and an akuma and are impressed. Clearly, most of them have no training and they hold themself formidable.

The inner circle talks with the team, which is wary. But then the kwamis recognize them and the teenagers (probably 15?) are so glad, that they finally have help. Not the one they expected, but still help

Vendal was one the first guardian, a simple man and then blessed by Tikki and Plagg. He trained other guardians and miraculous users until he almost died

Ra’s al Ghul was once a dragon, but also used the cat miraculous. This is the reason, why he can use the lazarus pit and isn’t mad

Klarion knows about the kwamis, the first gods, often makes rituals and such stuff. But he never saw a miraculous before

Deathstroke knows about the miraculous, but never knew, what power they truly hold

Lex Luthor knew about them too

The team is offered a traditional training with the League and since they are all true holders, they will master it faster than anyone before. Vendal wants to train Marinette as the guardian, after she finished hers with Ra’s. Deathstroke will be their mentor and Klarion will teach them in magic.

Lex takes them under his wing, teaching them about buisness, money, politics and manipulating

They train and fight Hawkmoth for two years. Sometimes, Vendal takes over as Chat Noir, sometimes Ra’s, to keep Marinette and Tikki balanced. But they need to find her true holder, which isn’t that easy, while they are still in training and fighting

The team is around 17/18, when they finally defeat Hawkmoth and Mayura. The major of Paris and the president of France tell the world finally the truth about the situation (world is shocked (especially when they hear, that the Justice League didn’t help))

Now, the heroes want to help, after Wonder Woman, Aquaman and Dr. Fate, as well Zatanna, kicked their asses for being dumb bitches. When Batman doesn’t stop (he’s an ass sometimes, but I don’t hate him) they threaten to leave the JL. He doesn’t belive it and suddendly he has 4 members less.

The four go to Paris, even when there is a heroes ban. They offer their alliance, but keep their distance, which everyone is glad.

Since Hawkmoth and his sidechick have been defeated, the Miraculous Team retires. Or so everybody thinks.

They all leave Paris, letting their friends and family think they have a job/go on vacation (Kagami and Luka fake their death, Marinette too)

Lila is smug, bc she thinks, she won, since Alix and Kim just leave and Chloé is a weeping mess

The six go to the League, where they learn new/more things and become the elite squad of Ra’s.

(Ra’s is totally a proud parent, who shows, how much his kids are better than anyones. Well, as good as he can with his stoic face)

The six still use their miraculous, but have new costumes (darker colors, mostly black)

And so life goes on, until the JL and the YJ attack the light. They take many hits, loose many bases and the first time, the heroes meet the squad

The six are just called ‘the squad’. They switch miraculous, so the heroes don’t make connections.

(Marinette is White (rabbit), while Chloé is Red (dragon), Kagami is Brown (monkey), Alix is Blue (snake), Kim is Scarlett (ladybug), Luka is Black (cat)) Over their costumes, they wear a typical League uniform.

They totally rip the heroes apart

Anyway. The JL and YJ are wary about the sqaud, they all know, they are deadly. Some think, even deadlier than Deathstroke.

After the attack, the squad meets Lady Shiva and Talia al Ghul

And her new pet project

You already know it. Jason Todd

His mind is fucked up, he doesn’t remember much until this woman in red smiles at him and just hugs him? Girl, this is the league?!

Jason is totally Marinette’s black cat.

He’s suddenly being trained (can you imagine a confused Jason Todd, trained by Vendal, Klarion and the rest of the team? Bc I do) and partnered with Plagg, who absolutly loves his new holder. There is so much chaos in him, he even survived the pit!

The squad goes on mission, mostly to mess with the JL, who notice, there is a new member. And oh shit- he destroys everything. And there Superman curmbles to ash... (no worries, he’s brought back)

Jason isn’t trying to kill Bruce, well, he still fights against Batman, but he doesn’t want him dead (the heroes think, the squad tries to kill them)

Some years pass (I have no idea, what happens in season 3 (Young Justice) since I didn’t have the time to watch it) the miraculous slowly become balanced again and the team is doing great

Until Talia snitches Bruce (bc she’s a little bitch) that Jason is alive. Not only that, he’s a part of the squad. Ra’s personally tries to kill his daughter- bc no Talia! You can’t just go and tell secrets! (silently crusing in many languages about the balance and how his own daughter betrayes him) He’s so angry, that he disowns his daughter and claims 7 year old Damian as his heir.

Bruce tries to hunt Jason down, but no success

Marinette takes Damian under her wing and gives him the miraculous of the tiger (Damian is so proud, that he’s a true holder). She and Jason become somewhat his parents, just like the rest of the team

Alix and Kim are totally together, as well Cloé and Kagami, while Luka has a on/off relationship with Lady Shiva, who is the true holder to the fox miraculous

Talia attacks the league, when Damian is 10 and takes him to his father

Damian hides the miraculous and Roarr, but Alfred knows. He always knows. (Totally cliche, but he’s the true holder to the peacock)

Damian acts like a brat like in canon, but can be such a softy

But only with his true family

Jason moves to Gotham, becomes the Red Hood, while Marinette becomes Scarlett (his partner)

The rest of the squad starts to recruit new holders and start to train them, often visited by Jason and Marinette

One tragic night, Batman fights against Red Hood, almost kills him, when Scarlett breaks his arm. Robin (Damian) comes to help, freezes, when he sees his family. He stops fighting, takes a deep breath and turns to his father.

Batman is confused, but then Robin says, that this is Jason, the second Robin and that he will not fight family

Batman lashes out, being an idiot, talking some nonsense about Jason being a criminal and suddenly Robin disapears. The big bat thinks, his kid went home

Well, he does, but not the Manor. He follows Jason and Marinette and sleeps a night there.

Then his father starts to search him (Damian) and finds him with Jason

Totally a fight there

Until Alfred comes and makes them to sit down and talk

Jason explains everything, telling Bruce, that the squad doesn’t exist anymore, bc of Talia.

He causally says, that Marinette is his girlfriend, that they somewhat adopted Damian, after Talia was banned.

Bruce tries to wrap his head around this, but slowly accept this new part of his family

It takes some time, but Jason (Red Hood) and Marinette (Scarlett) become a part of the Batfam

They lead the new Miraculous Team in secret, keep in contact with the inner circle of the light

This goes well, until Tim finds out.

Bruce lashes out again, bc what the fuck- his own child and his wife (they married) are spying for the light?! He tought they destroyes that damned organisation

Damian runs with them

They go to Nanda Parbat, where they meet the new recruits.

Now, every kwami has a true holder

Balance is perfect as it can be

Two years later, Bruce still tries to find Damian, in the hope, he isn’t with his older brother and his wife

He still is

Then Ra’s has enough of this drama, talks with the inner circle of the light and the kwamis

Kidnaps the batfam

Explains everything

Like everything

Slowly the batfam understands

Bruce is so proud that two of his sons are true holders, one of them literally can control chaos

The batfam starts to help the inner circle of the light, the other members think, this heroes finally saw the light

I can totally see the lesser memebers dumbfounded faces, when the whole Batfam shows up

Vendal starts to explain

“Batman was trained under Ra’s al Ghul himself, Batwoman followed.”

“Nightwing was trained by Deathstroke.”

“Red Hood was trained by Lady Shiva, Deathstroke and Ra’s al Ghul and is a former member of the squad.”

“Scarlett was trained by myself, Ra’s al Ghul, Lady Shiva, Deathstroke and Batman. She was the leader of the squad.”

“Red Robin was trained, like all the other Robins, by Batman. Lady Shiva took him under his wing for some time.”

“Signal was trained by Batman, Red Hood and Scarlett.”

“Batgirl was trained under Batman, Nightwing and Scarlett.”

“Black Bat grew up in the League and is the daughter of Lady Shiva.”

“Robin is my grandson and the son of Batman. He was trained under Scarlett and Red Hood, when they still were in the squad.”

(Did I forget someone?)

Gaping villians

But when Vendal says, that Batman will be part of the inner circle, as well Red Hood and Scarlett. they loose their absolute shit.

They fought the whole time with their allies??

Vendal then also says, that this will be the last meeting and they will all forget, that the Batfam is a part of the light

“Well... we can’t take risks, can’t we? We don’t want to repeat an incident with the Young Justice again... because of this, only the members of the inner circle will remember our prupose and the light itself.”

Batman then says to the JL, that he will leave the League, since this is going nowhere

The Batfamily is now officially a hero group and more loved than the JL, bc they don’t destroy much in their fights and if they do, Bruce Wayne pays. They keep in the shadows, which means, no civilians hurt AND many villians retire, when they hear, that Batman will fully remain in Gotham. They don’t try anything, bc he always seems to know

Okay... this is much more, than I acutally wanted to write and in the end, it didn’t came out as I first thought. But I hope you still like it, bc I like this version better

And it’s in the middle of the night, so if there are any mistakes... I don’t care :)

Masterlist

#headcanons #miraculous #dc #jasonette #i'm not patient enough to tag everything #justhugefangirl writes {🥀}#justhugefangirl creates {🌹}

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valkyriesryde · 4 years

Text

Guardian Angel

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Athena!Reader

Summary: PART TWO OF CALM She won’t commit to him. He doesn’t understand why. But he doesn’t know who she is.

Word Count: 2,130

Warnings: maybe some angst, maybe some fluff, some hinting towards NSFW content but its not explicit. And swearing

A/N: this is a part two but I think it can be read by itself maybe. Its also @mybesttobobcratchit Bex’s 500 Writing challenge! Thank you so much for letting me take part hun! love you <3

Masterlist

~~~

Midgard. That’s what Thor always called it. In the years since the blip and moving forward Thor had come back to earth a handful of times. He’d met Bucky, reconnected with his old friends, those that were still around at least.

On one of his more recent visits, when Bucky found Thor alone in the common room of their offices he couldn’t help but think of her. Thor was a god and so was she. Thor had power and nobility just like she did. She was still as much a mystery to Bucky has she had ever been and he thought, perhaps Thor had some answers.

“Humans believe in many kinds of gods, do you think it’s possible they’re all out there like you were?” Bucky picks his words carefully, he and Thor don’t exactly know each other well and he doesn’t want to give her away just yet.

“Of course it’s possible, myths always start as facts. Why do you ask? Have you met one? Who is it?” Thor fires questions at Bucky and a smirk spreads over him when Bucky falters at them. “You HAVE!” Thor’s voice booms with laughter as Bucky tries to hush him and looks over his shoulder.

“Maybe! Just be quiet. They can’t know!” His heart beats quickly as he looks towards the door but there’s no sound of someone coming and Bucky can relax. He wonders if she knows he’s told someone about her? If maybe speaking her name would bring her here.

“But why not? This is fantastic? Who are they? Have I met them?” Thor whispers into the air and the words settle around Bucky for a minute.

“I don’t know.” He doesn’t know. He has his theories, he’s got the clues. But he doesn’t want to make any assumptions. “She’s like a guardian angel, my guardian angel.” He feels almost breathless talking about her. He’s confused though, he doesn’t know, he’s not 100% sure of anything. She’s cryptic when she talks to him, refuses to tell him anything about herself that digs any deeper than what’s on the surface.

“She? Do you have her name?”

“Y/N”

“Doesn’t ring a bell,” Thor shrugs his shoulders, he sips his coffee and peers over the mug at Bucky. Bucky who slumps in his seat and is lost in his thoughts until his phone rings and he’s out the door.

~~~

She comes and goes. Like the sun, she passes by and without realizing how long it’s been the sun sets and she has to leave again. She tried explaining it once, “if I’m here for too long people get suspicious James,” she said when he asked her to stay a little longer. “I’ve duties elsewhere you know that. I’ll always come back.” come back those were the words that hurt him. She had come back so far but what if she didn’t?

The sun was setting again. Bucky watched her tidy her small apartment, the one she kept for whenever she was here. Five months this time he’d had her. It was the longest he’d had her in the same world as him, the longest she had stayed in New York.

“Do you know when you’ll be coming back?” he picked at the thread of his jumper not wanting to look at the way her face dropped at his comment.

“When the time is right,” she muttered into the room, her focus on the cups she was putting away instead of the frowning man on her couch.

“And when will that be?”

“James…” she moved to sit next to him, she hated these moments; the goodbye. When he asked her to stay with him for a bit longer and she had to fight herself and tell him no, she couldn’t.

“How hard is it to give even an estimate? You never tell me, I don’t know if you just don’t know when you’ll be back or if you don’t want to tell me but either way it’s incredibly hard on me just waiting for you to return?” Bucky was angry. Everything came bubbling over at once, he couldn’t stop himself from feeling frustrated and annoyed with her. He thought they were happy, he thought he was enough but why does she keep leaving him.

“I always come back,” her voice was calm and that just fueled his anger. She shouldn’t be calm at a moment like this, she should be feeling some sort of emotion, at least give him something!

“But I want you to stay! You never do. There’s so much you don’t do. So much you don’t tell me. Do you even care about me? You tell me you favor me, that you love me but do you really?” That angered her. Finally, that was the thing that pushed her over the edge. How dare he question her love for him.

“Are you really going to look me in the eye and tell me you think I don’t love you?” She stood from her seat and looked down at him with grey eyes that made him feel as though he was in the eye of the storm but Bucky’s emotions got the better of him.

“You won’t even kiss me. What am I supposed to think?” Bucky’s voice was quiet, he was hurt, every time he would go to kiss her she turned away. She wouldn’t tell him why just that the time wasn’t right. There was never enough time, never the right time.

“Love isn’t just shown through physical affections, James.” Her voice low as anger fueled it.

“Sometimes I feel like I barely know anything about you! You just talk about me and everything else but yourself. I want to know who you are!”

“Who I am?” She held her hands in fists by her side, her jaw tightened.

“Yes.” He hit back. She straightens her posture in front of him and Bucky sits up.

“I was born when my father developed an unbearable headache. His skull was split open and out I came ready for battle. I had no childhood. I’m always on the winning side of the war. They named a city after me you know? A whole city.” She shakes her head and lets out a small laugh. The simple jeans and t-shirt she wore morphed and a toga, white as snow, formed over her. A familiar golden shield appeared in her hand. The face of a woman with snakes for hair, he knew that story, was on its front, she held a spear in her other as she stood over him. “Gods get forgotten, the new gods are merely the old with different names. That doesn’t change our history. I’m not remembered, I’m no longer worshipped but that does not change who I am. I don’t kiss you because I took an oath. If I kiss you I don’t know if I’d be able to stop myself. It’s bad enough that I favor you and I spend my time in the mortal realm but if I broke that oath? I would be disowned, I would be punished worse than you can ever imagine.”

Bucky stood from the couch and her shield and spear disappeared from her side. He wasn’t quite sure what he was feeling. In awe, enamored, slightly terrified, a little honored.

“You want to know who I am? I am wisdom. I am the helper of heroes, Odysseus and his son, Heracles, Perseus, Jason...you. I am the protector of the city, Pallas, grey eyes. Minerva. Athena.”

“Y/N.” Her breath caught in her throat when he spoke her name. The only one she’d chosen for herself. Bucky reached up and traced his fingers over her jaw, her chest heaved as he held her in his hands as if she were made of glass.

“I love you.” He brushed away her tears, she hadn’t even realized she was crying until she felt his fingers brush across her cheeks, “you have to know that.” Bucky nods his head, he feels the salt from his own tears when he licks his lips. Her fingers grip his shirt as he presses his forehead to hers and he lets out a shaky breath.

“I love you,” Bucky breathed out and his lips brushed against hers.

“Bucky-“ his lips pressed against hers and her knees went weak, his arms circling her waist and holding her close.

It was hesitant, gentle and filled with love. But when her fingers tangled in the ends of his hair and he pulled her flush against him it changed. Hesitant turned to confident, gentle turned to rough and the love evolved into passion. Hands pulled and gripped at clothes until they were piles on the floor. Hair was pulled, moans and whimpers filled the room and moved through the hall, they pressed against the wall, were tangled in the sheets, deep sighs and murmurs of love and adoration only reserved for one another floated around them. Somewhere in the distance lightning cracked and thunder boomed, rain poured outside but it only added to the ambiance of it all.

~~~

“You can’t love him.” They stood at the mouth of the cave, her bag slung over her shoulder as he leaned against the stone.

“That’s a bit hypocritical of you to say isn’t it?” She narrowed her eyes at the god of thunder. How did he know, how did he always know when she was up to no good.

“If anything my warning should be the one you do listen to. Nothing but pain can come from loving a mortal.” They were good friends, had been for a long time. It’s what happens when you're around for so long, your lives tend to cross every now and then.

“He’s not just a mortal though. He doesn’t age like them, he doesn’t heal like them. He’s not just a mortal.” She kept telling her it was okay. Everything would be okay. He wasn’t a normal mortal. He loved her. She loved him.

“He’s not immortal either, he’s not like either of us.” Thor always ruined her fun. She can love him for now though can’t she? Does she not deserve this, she’d lived a thousand lives, she deserved to choose one for herself.

“Thor I thought you would understand,” Y/N rolled her eyes at her old friend, she mirrored his stance and crossed her arms as if to challenge him.

“I do. That’s the problem grey eyes, I understand too well. I do not want you to get hurt.” Thor looked at her with sympathy, he knew the hurt, he carried it with him. The pain that came with rejection. Thor loved midgardians but he knew how dangerous they were when it came to their feelings. He didn’t wish heartbreak to anyone, especially someone he cared about.

“You’re not my father,” her father, god of the sky, king of the gods. She wasn’t afraid of him, not as afraid as she should be as she prepares to go home.

“You are lucky it’s me and not him you’re talking to.”

“By now he already knows, if anything being here with you is just me procrastinating the inevitable.” She shrugged her shoulders at Thor who couldn’t help but roll his eyes in return.

“You can’t run away from this, you took an oath.”

“And what does that oath say about love? I’ve kept that oath for thousands of years. I’m sick of it.”

“And what if it’s not love, what if this blows up in your face?” Thor’s warnings came from his own experience and his own fears. He’d been left behind, he’d lost his family and all of those that were closest to him. She was an enigma, she didn’t see the risk of it all, the risk that came with loving someone who could be taken from you so easily.

“I’ve never wanted to break it before him, Thor. If that isn’t love...if wanting to go against what I’ve promised and what I’ve been told to believe because of him isn’t love...then I do not care for it.”

“He loves you.” It’s a fact that Thor states without even thinking about it. He saw the look in Bucky’s eyes when they talked to each other earlier in the week. He saw the way his body completely changed, his posture straightened, his shoulders relaxed, his eyes lit up. Bucky was in love.

“He sees me, Thor, he always saw me. He was never supposed to see me but he always did...does.” She smiles softly and looks deep into the cave, Thor can see it clear as day, so was she.

~~~

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redhoodieone · 5 years

Text

It’s Cold in Here Part 6

A/N: Okay, so here is Part 6! I’m actually very excited to keep this series going if people love it and demand it. I don’t really have anything else to say except…enjoy it!

Warnings: Smut, language, and threats.

One hand rubs up my stomach to my neck, where Jason chokes me lightly as the other hand aligns his thick cock to my wet pussy. Just feeling the head of his dick against my clit makes me moan and whimper for more friction and action.

“Ready doll?” Jason asks me; winking.

“I said to give me all you got, Jay,” I choke out from the tight hold on my throat.

Jason then pushes his cock inside me until he’s all the way in. Just feeling him inside me can almost make me cum, considering Jason hasn’t taken his eyes off me since he’s been in the room. One hand of his is on my hips as he holds me still, as the other holds my neck. As he thrusts in and out slowly, Jason slightly panics as he realizes what he’s doing.

“S-sorry. I didn’t realize I was doing that,” Jason apologizes, and is about to remove his hand from my neck until I shake my head at him in complete worry.

“No! Please don’t. I-I haven’t had rough sex in so long,” I plead, even though I’m struggling to speak clearly from his continuing thrusts and hot body above me, I want this more than anything.

“You like it rough, Y/N?”

“I bet I do,” I answer breathlessly. “I don’t really know.”

“Good, because if we’re going to be honest, I’ve always wanted to do this to you,” Jason confesses, as his thrusts quicken. Between my moans, wet slapping sounds between us, and his panting; I don’t think we’re going to last very long. “I’ve always-fuck imagine me fucking you so hard, fast, and deep, doll. All I want is you to beg me to make you cum. I-I want you to only want me.”

I throw my head back and grip the bedsheets in tight fists. The way Jason’s cock deliciously rubs against my walls makes me breathe harder and harder. It’s like his cock was meant to be inside me, as cheesy as that may sound. Jason lowers his face down and kisses my neck and chest, until he bites and sucks my nipples to make me be louder.

“Oh fuck...your pussy feels so good, Y/N. You’re so fucking tight and wet for me. You’re just so fucking good to me,” Jason says, panting in between thrusts. “You’re so fucking good, doll.”

I immediately realize Jason is expressing more compliments to me, as if he needs to hear something like that, too. The way he closes his eyes every few seconds, and the way his blue eyes stare into mine makes me wonder if he’s always doubting himself during sex.

The man seems like he has sex figured out and mastered well enough to be considered a Sex God.

But perhaps it’s just an act Jason puts on to make others believe he’s perfect, because all his life, he’s wanted and dreamed of being perfect; just like Dick Grayson.

But with the way Jason is fucking me, I don’t even have to pretend and put on a show that proves I’m enjoying myself. There’s no lies. There’s no secrets. Jason is making me feel so good that I couldn’t even critique him if I could.

And I sure as hell won’t.

I let go of the sheets with one hand. Slowly and carefully, I reach up to his face and rub his strong jawline. “You’re doing so good, Jay. You-you are fucking me the way I want to be fucked. Keep going, please.” I beg. “You’re so good!”

Jason smiles, and he continues to pound into me with every hard thrust. He suddenly moves down and kisses me. The second our lips touch, I instantly feel a spark has been lit between us. The sensation alone makes me feel like butterflies are inside my stomach; a feeling I haven’t felt in so long.

I open my mouth and Jason immediately seeks my tongue. The way we almost devour each other’s mouths makes me moan into the kiss, which makes me grip the back of his head, tugging his dark hair for more.

“Fuck,” Jason says, breaking the kiss to breathe as he continues to hold my neck, but sits up to flip me over onto my stomach. As Jason slams back into my pussy, he manages to raise my upper body up with just his hand wrapped around my neck; squeezing my throat enough to make me lightheaded but filled with pleasure from the roughness.

“Oh fuck...oh God...fuck me harder, Jay,” I whine.

Jason growls and fucks me as hard as he can; as his body keeps colliding into my ass. He softly whimpers, which surprises me for only a second because he then releases my neck and moves his hand down between my legs and begins to rub fast circles on my clit to get me to cum.

But with the way Jason is fucking me, hitting the right sensitive spot in my pussy, and with the fast-torturous rubs on my clit, I’m going to cum now.

“Cum for me right now, Y/N. Cum for me so I can see what I do to you,” Jason demands.

With one more thrust and rub, I feel myself clenching around Jason, as I gush all over his cock. The warmth that spreads throughout my body weakens me. This orgasm is stronger than I’ve ever imagined.

Perhaps I never experienced a real one before.

Jason breathes heavily as he fucks me through my orgasm. He kisses along my shoulders and spine, which surprises me a bit since I’ve never really experienced intimacy such as kissing and caressing before. With both hands, he grips my hips and slams himself into me one last time before he pulls out and cums under me onto the sheet.

I even hear Jason moan my name, along with other things I couldn’t clearly hear. He breathes deeply; continuing to groan and pant from his apparently strong orgasm.

I collapse onto the bed. Just trying to breathe normally is difficult, and the way my body feels like jello just proves I’m not going to be able to walk tomorrow.

“I’ll be right back,” Jason says softly, as he quickly gets up and runs to the bathroom. I am finally able to roll onto my back and lie down properly.

Jason returns with a wet washcloth, and hands it to me after hesitating if he should clean me or not. I thank him and take it; cleaning myself and my thighs from my arousal. Once I’m done, I toss it to the floor and climb under the covers to rest. I’m not sure what Jason will do, but I know I’m tired and it’s about midnight as I checked my phone on the nightstand.

But to my amazement, Jason walks over to the bed still naked (his glorious naked Sex God body) and slips into bed beside me. He shuts off the light next to him; despite the moonlight from the window glowing all around us. I end up turning on my side to sleep, as my arms embrace the pillow underneath my head, so I fall asleep quicker. And just when I think we’re done with each other; Jason moves closer behind me and eventually wraps his arms around me; hands securing around my stomach.

“Is this okay?” Jason whispers in my ear.

“Uh, yeah. It’s okay,” I answer, unable to keep the anxiousness from my voice.

Jason leans his head closer to mine. “Are you nervous?” he asks.

“N-no. I’m-I’m just...not used to this kind of thing.”

“You mean cuddling? Cuddling after sex and cuddling in bed is new to you?”

I bite my bottom lip. “Yeah.” I say clearly, hoping he can take the hint and drop the subject. Because after our fucking session, I don’t think I can talk about Dick.

Especially when I’ve had the most fun I’ve had in months.

Especially with someone who is not my boyfriend.

“How long have you known? About...everything?” I ask softly. My voice breaks at the end, despite trying to remain strong and unaffected by it all. He stays quiet for a bit, until he sighs.

“For a while,” Jason admits. He exhales deeply, and he holds me tighter. I can feel him breathing near me, and I suddenly find myself entranced by his scent of Old Spice deodorant and an expensive, wonderful cologne. “I wanted to tell you when I found out. I wanted to rat Dick out for his constant lies, secrets, and infidelity. I wanted to hurt him for hurting you...but I was forced to promise not to tell from Tim, Damian, and Alfred.”

“They all knew?” I choke out. A few tears fall from my eyes. “Does Bruce know?”

“No. Dick is afraid of telling Bruce, since Bruce grew up in a society of rich, privileged people who are close-minded and only expect greatness from people. The people Bruce associates with in-person tend to think homosexuality is wrong; immoral. We live in a society that believes gay or bisexual men is gross and beyond disgusting, while lesbians and bisexual women are more...attractive and hot. So, after Dick told us all this, he really fears Bruce will disown him because why would Bruce want a flaming son? I really don’t know why Dick is terrified of telling Bruce, but we all made a promise and will never tell Bruce until Dick does.”

My heart feels heavy with guilt. “I won’t tell Bruce either,” I admit. Jason sighs again, and kisses my forehead. “How did you all find out?”

“Alfred caught Dick and Wally fucking in the Batcave months ago. After a while, Alfred confronted Dick, and asked him what their sexual encounter meant, but Dick was obviously in denial about what he did. I guess he wanted to believe he was only into women and just slipped into casual sex from experimenting with Wally. The fucking idiot told me he was sick of the gay jokes from everyone, and always felt the need to defend himself all the time, but now he feels like he still needs to put on the straight act. I didn’t even think he took the jokes seriously, but I guess he did. He barely came out as bisexual two weeks ago, and was hoping to tell you soon,” Jason reveals, before he turns me around to face him. The moonlight from the window is bright enough for us to see each other’s faces. He wipes my tears. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, Y/N. It’s just...Dickhead’s my brother and I would hope if I were in trouble, he would help me, too. But please don’t tell anyone that because I have a tough-ass reputation to hold.”

Even though I feel betrayed, devastated, and confused, I find it comforting with Jason. The way the moonlight makes his blue eyes shine, I find warmth there. I chuckle at his remark and shake my head.

“Your secret’s safe with me, Jay. The thing I don’t understand is why Dick is obsessed and afraid of labels,” I say curiously.

“I don’t even know. Tim even tried telling him the straight label doesn’t necessarily exist anymore. Tim says as humans, we find ourselves attracted to both sexes, but find ourselves having sex with who we prefer. So, in a way, I guess I’m mostly straight. I don’t think I can ever have sex with a fucking guy,” Jason admits.

“So, you never fucked Roy, and he’s never fucked you?” I tease. Jason laughs before he playfully bites my bottom lip. “I’ve heard the outrageous stories from your Outlaw days.”

“We...experimented, alright? We jerked each other off and I even let him suck my dick. That’s all it took for me to realize I don’t have any sexual desires for guys or from guys. It’s normal, and it’s just curiosity,” Jason defends himself, before he squeezes my hips and I squeal.

“Okay, I understand. I don’t think that’s bad at all,” I say. If he’s confessing, maybe I can too. “I’ve done it, too. So, if what Tim is saying is true, I’m mostly straight, too.”

“Tell me more,” Jason pleads. His blue eyes beg, and I can tell he’s dying to know my past.

“Fine...” I playfully complain. I chuckle and look into his eyes. “I used to kiss my friends. We would sleep over at each other’s houses and we would talk about making out, masturbating, and sex. When I was younger, I always found it...annoyingly difficult to masturbate. It was like, always weird to touch myself because I felt like what I was doing was wrong. Yeah, I knew back then masturbating was normal and healthy, and whatever. But after talking to my friends about it, they told me it’s not bad at all and that I needed to just relax and keep trying. So, I asked one of my friends to show me how to touch myself when everyone else was asleep. So, we snuck out and went outside on the trampoline where no one was around or can hear and see us. So, she told me to lie down and relax. So, she kissed me and kissing her was always exciting to me because I’ve never had a real boyfriend before because guys suck at fourteen years old. So, she’s kissing me, and she shows me what I’ve been missing all this time.”

Jason begins to breathe heavily, and that’s when I notice he’s horny. Again. “Tell me what happened next, doll.”

“Fine, but after this I need sleep. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“She moves down, and she lifts my shirt up without saying anything. She rubs my boobs, sucks, bites, and licks my nipples which already surprised me because I didn’t think they could be that sensitive you know? So, she keeps going down and down until she’s literally face to face with my pussy. Luckily, I was learning to shave a bit, since puberty sucks ass so I didn’t feel so self-conscious right then and there. And I swear to God, what happens next is beyond anything I’ve ever experienced. My best friend finger fucked me and ate my pussy out until I was screaming and creaming all over her fingers and mouth until I couldn’t handle anymore. So, to make a long story short, I really enjoyed that experience because after that night, I realized women really know what women want. But would I do it again now? Honestly, no because I’m not seeking it anymore,” I say.

“I understand that. But in all honesty, that’s fucking hot, Y/N. Damn...if only I knew you back then. But in all seriousness, we’re similar in a way. We’re people who are just looking for someone to have that connection with that’s meaningful for life. But back to sex, I bet I can be the one who knows your body better than you do,” Jason says, before he winks at me. “I can be the one who knows what you like.”

“Oh my God, you’re very egotistical. You know that, right?”

Jason smirks, and kisses me again until I pull away to get comfortable. He cuddles with me once more and shifts to lie down where my head is near his chest. “Oh, but you love me, doll. You wouldn’t change anything about me, would you?” he asks. I look up at him and run my hand through his messy dark hair. I tug it playfully as he hums at the display of affection.

“No. Would you change anything about me?”

“Never.”

“Well, that’s good to hear then. Goodnight Jay,” I whisper and yawn at the same time.

“You’re so fucking adorable, Y/N,” Jason says softly, as he kisses me one last time. “Goodnight doll.”

I feel my chest tighten from Jason’s sweet comment. We rest in complete silence. The sounds of our breathing and the touch of our embrace relaxes me to the point where I don’t hear my phone vibrating at first. I slowly and quietly move away from Jason to get my cell phone. It’s a text message, and I lean over to the edge so the light of my screen wouldn’t disturb Jason.

It’s the unknown number.

So, you have finally learned the truth and heard everything with your own ears? I’m impressed you’ve managed to hold yourself together. So now that you believe me, I think it’s time we meet face to face. I need to know if you’re serious about our partnership.

I feel sick to my stomach already.

Look, I may not agree with how my boyfriend handled his cheating or lies, but I’m not going to hurt him. I really just want to move on from all of this and just live my life. So, whatever your revenge thing is, I don’t want anything to do with it. I text back.

The person immediately responds.

Ha. You’re funny. You just think you can walk away from all of this and that I would disappear from your life as if this never happened? Wow. I actually believed you were intelligent, wise, and had a sense of instinct. But you keep surprising me, and I for one do not enjoy surprises. So, let me say what will happen if you ignore me and refuse to meet me tomorrow. You see Y/N, I have something that Dick Grayson would want.

What do you have??? I text back anxiously.

Wouldn’t you like to know? Let’s just say that what I have, if it ever fell into the wrong hands, it would not only destroy him, but his family, friends, and the one man he sees as his father for the longest time, his life would be over. And let’s just say if this got out, I already have everything tracing back to you. All evidence: is pointing at you. So, if you think you can fuck me over and leave, you have another thing coming.

I run a hand through my hair, and I breathe hard. I can’t run away from this. I can’t escape. This person has me under their thumb.

Now that you understand what is at stake, I want you to meet me tomorrow at Ace Chemicals at midnight. Alone. And if you try anything funny or cute, I will personally kill Dick. I will rip his head off with my bare hands, and I will shove his skull into your stomach. Now do you understand?

I understand. I text back with shaking hands.

Good. Now get some sleep.

I put my cell phone down onto the nightstand and I breathe heavily. The weight of the world is on my shoulders, and I feel the strength and determination to protect Dick is happening to me again.

I lie down, facing away from Jason. I’m sort of surprised he didn’t notice me lying away from him. The second my body relaxes, and I fall asleep, I then feel Jason moving closer to me; holding me once more.

Before I feel an arm reaching across me to get my cell phone.

Yay! It’s the end of this part! Let me know what you think!!!

#dc comics #batfamily #jason todd #dick grayson #jason todd x reader smut #jason todd x y/n smut #jason todd smut #jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #batman

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forlornmelody · 4 years

Text

Kord Center Mall: Rose Takes Bart to a Rave

Rating: Explicit (there’s smut, and drug use, and lots of swearing)

Fandom(s): Mass Effect, DC Comics

Ship: JayRose (Jason Todd/Rose Wilson)

AO3 Link: Here

Summary: Even the best-made plans go sideways, sometimes.In which Rose plans to have a good time with her NOT boyfriend, but ends up watching over the most annoying and most adorable kid working at Kord Center Mall.

Note: This is a cross over, mall-verse AU concocted by @scifi-ginger and myself. You’ve been warned.

-*-*-

Rose Wilson has three stops she makes on her hour-long lunch break. How she managed to get an hour instead of 30 minutes like most part-timers, no one seems to know. Her desk partner, Cassandra Sandsmark--regular employee of the month and all-around wonder girl, has definitely noticed, and she protests every time Rose leaves. Their manager likes Rose, so he never says anything. Or maybe he’s terrified of her dad like everyone else. Getting into his scheduling software is easy enough, especially since he has the password on a sticky note behind his monitor. It’s not Rose’s fault if he doesn’t bother to memorize it.

First she goes to Joey’s counter at MAC. For someone who’d rather sign than talk, Joey sure sells a lot of beauty products. It’s probably the way he smiles at his customers, giving them bedroom eyes regardless of their gender. When Rose spots him, he’s chatting up some twink who has trouble standing still. Joey lays a steadying hand on his shoulder, applying the liquid eye liner like he’s still in art school. He waves at Rose when he’s done with the makeover, walking the guy over to the counter to what’s surely going to be a big sale. When the customer signs his receipt, he also jots down his number. Taking the receipt, Joey nods at the guy, then at Rose.

“Oh! Sorry. Didn’t realize you’d been waiting.” The twink stumbles out of the store, leaving Joey and Rose alone at the counter.

Joey punches the guy’s number into his phone and Rose rolls her eyes. Her brother sets his phone down, and his hands flurry into signs. “What? Was it something I said?”

Rose leans across the counter, so his co-worker can’t hear her talk. “Really? Are you going to seduce every single person who comes in here?”

Waving his hand dismissively, Joey snorts. “He was cute.”

“You say that about everyone, Joey. And I won’t let you tarnish my reputation as the skankiest Wilson.”

Leaning back towards her with a wicked gleam in his eye, Joey slaps his hand on the counter. “I’m pretty sure Pop has us both beat there.”

“Gross.” Rose starts to walk out, but her phone pings.

I still want Vega’s number.

Rose turns back to face him, grinning widely as she moonwalks out the store. “Fucking a personal trainer won’t get you a free membership!” She calls out.

Joey’s hands move so big Rose is convinced the department store across the hall can see. “But it will get me some exercise!”

Shaking her head, Rose moves on to the crystal shop three doors down. Rachel, or Raven, as most call her, is busy ringing someone up, so Rose peruses the tea selection. She isn’t really sure what to make of the supernatural or the paranormal, to be honest, but she humors her friend--getting palm and tarot readings from her so Raven can practice. Every so often she’ll even join her meditation sessions, though Rose has the worst time sitting still. Her latest mantra is “I’d rather be punching a bag” over and over until Raven shoves her away.

Ignoring the names of the teas, Rose takes her time sniffing each jar for the one’s that’ll taste best. She picks one up that smells like almost nothing. What’s the fucking poi--

“I don’t think you need anything for erectile dysfunction.” Raven drawls from behind her. “If you do, we really need to talk.”

“Jesus.” Rose jumps a little, slamming the lid back down. “You’ve got to stop doing that.”

“Are you actually going to buy something, or are you just here to fuck off?” Raven folds her arms, eyeing Rose with a smirk.

“What’s a good compliment to some dank weed?” Rose leans back against the shelves, jostling several jars in her wake.

Raven scoffs, but digs out a couple jars, pushing Rose out of the way. “What does Joey think about you partying with the mall’s resident bad boys?”

“And girl.” Rose holds up a finger like a kindergarten teacher. “Don’t forget the girl.” As if anyone could forget Jack Nought. With her mohawk and tats, she looks like she walked off the set of Mad Max. Maybe she did. Jack can do whatever the fuck she wants. “And Joey trusts me to take care of myself.” She pokes Raven in the nose. “Unlike some people.”

“Har har.” Raven waves her off like a fly. “And your dad?” Her voice lightens, and her eyebrows knit together, all airs of indifference falling away. She moves behind the counter, measuring and weighing the ounces of tea, only to toss the generous amounts in the bags anyway. Samara lets Raven do what she wants, too. They should start a club.

“He can go fuck himself.”

“You know, I have an extra room available if you--”

“Don’t.” Rose eyes the register to see what total Raven rang up, and slams extra down on the counter.

“Fine.” Raven starts to count out her change. Rose leaves before she can put it in her hands. Good thing she was already on her way to the punk store.

Jack is chewing and blowing bubblegum when Rose walks in. “Hey fucker,” she calls out affectionately.

“Fuck you too, Jack.” Rose circles the counter, squeezing Jack’s butt in her usual greeting--her eyes searching the merchandise.

“Looking for Jason?” Jack slaps her ass in reply. He’s running inventory in the back.”

“No, your other boy toy.” Rose quips as she heads towards the backdoor. She’s not allowed back there, but she’s on good terms with the management team.

Jason is waist deep in open boxes when she finds him. “Hey asshole,” she says to his back as he studies his clipboard.

“Jesus.” Jason slips and falls back against one stack of merchandise. His clipboard goes flying. Peanuts rain down on their heads. “Hey bastard.”

Rose picks the peanuts from her hair, squishing one between her fingers. “Excuse me? You’re the one who’s adopted.”

Jason pulls her down with him. “You’re the one who disowned her dad.”

Plastic bags squeak underneath their feet as she settles down next to him. “He deserved it.” Next to Jason isn’t close enough. Rose crawls into his lap.

“Rose, I’m a little--”

“Busy?” Her breath ghosts across his lips. “Not busy enough.” His body always feels so warm beneath her hands.

Jason’s lips part, and his hand wanders back and forth across the top of her shoulder, like he can’t decide between pushing her away and pulling her closer. “Jack will kill us if she finds us goofing off.”

“Since when do you care about the rules?” She kisses him once, long and slow, one hand scratching the back of his neck. “And she won’t kill me. I’m on break.”

Jason swears. “I’m already behind today.”

“Does that mean yes?”

“You asked?” He kisses her this time, pulling her tight against him. They fit together like puzzle pieces.

Rose trails her other hand down his side, sliding it between them. She drinks in his groan, sliding her tongue into his mouth, and her hand into his hoodie pocket.

Jason seizes her wrist, pulling away from her mouth. His breath comes out ragged. “Really?”

Sitting back, she pouts. “Empty? Nothing? Nada? Zilch?”

“I’m working.”

“Not even one joint? You disappoint me, Todd.”

“I’m not going to get arrested at work, Wilson.”

“At least tell me there’s a party this weekend.” Rose traces the lines of Jason’s jaw. She could do it all day. It’s not her fault he’s so easy on the eyes.

Jason leans back against the boxes, pulling Rose with him. “Mm. I think there’s a rave.”

Grinning slowly, Rose braces her hands on either side of his head, letting her hair drape around their faces. “Please tell me we’re going.”

“Oh, I’m sure we’ll get a group together.” He slides her hoodie’s zipper down. “Get a couple cars going.” His eyebrows scrunch together as he grins up at her. “Shouldn’t you be thinking about right now?”

“Depends.” Her hand slides underneath his hoodie and his shirt, shivering at the way his skin jumps. It should be illegal for someone to be this perfect. “Is it going to be more fun than this weekend?”

Jason rolls them over, pushing her shirt up. “Depends.” He lavishes her middle with kisses. “On.” A breath. “Where your head's at.”

If anything, Rose doesn’t like where her thoughts are headed. It’s all too easy to imagine dinner dates and long walks on the beach, or whatever it is couples do. So, she plays with the hair on the back of Jason’s head as he makes his way lower and lower. No matter what happens, no one can take this moment from them--from her. Maybe Jason’s right.

“Rose?” Jason’s hands let go of her jeans, and he’s watching her. Shit.

Shaking it off, Rose pulls him back to her. “C’mere.” Her lips crash into his, biting his bottom lip until he hisses into her mouth. “You’re short on time, right?” She slides her hand down, unbuttoning his jeans.

It’s a bold face lie and they both know it. “Yeah.” Jason gulps, sliding his hand inside her jeans. He pauses at what he finds or doesn’t find there. “Rose?”

“Shhh.” She shoves her jeans down, guiding his fingers. “It won’t take long, I promise.” Rose grins against his lips. “Especially with you.”

Jason’s kiss is a little too tender, his touch a little too reassuring, so Rose goes in hard. Her lips crash into his and she bites his bottom lip. As he moans into her mouth, she yanks his jeans out of her way, feeling along his length.

“Mm.” Rose tugs his ear lobe between her teeth, shivering at his sharp breath in her hair. “You are all I need right now. Just you.”

“Fuck, Rose.” Jason rocks into her hand, gripping her shoulders hard. “I need you, too.” He just manages to get beneath her underwear again, snickering between moans. “That’s more like it.”

“Nng.” Rose leans her head against Jason’s shoulder as his knuckle digs against her clit. It slips a little against her soaked skin. This is what she needs. “Just like that.” Panting, she bites his neck where it meets his shoulder.

Jason shakes, shakes under her touch. “Rose--” Her name isn’t a question this time. It’s a plea.

Rose snickers. “You want me?” Fuck, the way he whimpers as she shoves his underwear down. “You need me?”

“Rose, please.” Jason kisses her hungrily, fumbling as he pulls her underwear past her hips.

Swallowing hard, Rose digs through his pockets until she finds what she’s looking for. There. She grins, holding up the condom where Jason can see. He nods, and she slides it on him. Together they slide him inside her, and together they are a mess of limbs and teeth.

“Oh, fuck.” Rose whimpers, falling back against one of the stacks. It’s a little soon and a little rough, but it’s exactly what she needs right now. “Fuck, yes.”

“Y-yeah.” Jason drives into her, gripping her hips so tight she’ll have bruises later. He bites her neck, marking her in kind. Oh fuck, the boxes are going to fall over.

Moaning into his ear, she slides her fingers beneath his shirt, skimming her nails down his back.

“Rose,” he gasps. Now it’s a statement. A warning.

“Jason, I need--” Rose whimpers. She’s so close.

“Shh.” He catches her lips, taking her hand and putting it between them.

Rose circles her clit quickly, closing her eyes as Jason pulses inside her. His fingers slide over hers, and he pants into her neck as her world tilts on tilts on its axis.

Seconds, minutes, hours? Later she turns her head and finds him lying next to her, and they snicker together. Rose pushes a sweaty lock of hair out of his eyes.

“How the fuck am I supposed to work after that?” Jason traces her bottom lip with his finger.

“There’s a Starbucks across the hall.” Ah fuck. There’s that feeling again. Rose kisses his finger once, then sits up, grabbing her clothes and throwing them on. “What time on Saturday?”

Jason blinks up at her, pushing himself off the floor. “....Eight, I guess? It’s out of town.”

Rose snatches one last kiss from his lips. “See you then, asshole.”

“Catch you later, bastard.”

_____________________

Fuck him. Fuck Jason Todd. Fuck his entire fucking family. Rose stares down at her phone, the bass of the warehouse thumping even from across the field-turned parking lot.

“What’s wrong?” Bart leans over her shoulder, reading Jason’s text message.

Stuck at Bruce’s party. I’ll make it up to you later, I promise.

Rose swats him away. “He fucking bailed.”

Jack and Roy had already gone inside. They wouldn’t be able to find them til sunrise. And Jason wasn’t coming. That just left her and Bart “I can’t shut up” Allen. Two hours in the backseat doing her best to ignore him. Oo! What music are you listening to? Can I share? Lemme make you a playlist. Do you like Kesha? I LOVE KESHA. Rose didn’t even need to respond. He’d just keep talking.

“Jason bailed? What happened? Was it one of those Wayne Manor parties? Maybe we should go there.”

“It’s two hours away and we’re not invited, dumbass.” Rose made her way to the door. “You got your ID?”

“Well. Oh! You mean that ID.” Bart waggled his eyebrows. “Yeah. Tim made me one.” He pulled it out, waving it in front of her face.

“Gimme that.” Rose eyed it. “No way you’re passing for thirty.” She shoved it in her pocket.

“But how am I going to get inside?” He trailed after her.

“Lemme worry about that.” Rose spun around, and Bart ran into her. “But you need to let me do the talking. Kay?”

“Kay.”

“How’d you get invited, anyway?” Rose stomped toward the doors, doing her best to put on a winning smile. She needed something good, stat.

“Oh! Tim invited me. But he had to go to Bruce’s party too.”

“So I get to babysit you instead. Fucking fantastic.”

“Hey! It’s not my fault Jason flaked.”

Rose stopped, glaring at him. “I was supposed to get high and laid tonight. But no. I get stuck with you.”

Bart flushed as red as his hair. “I mean. You still c-can. I won’t stop y-you.”

“Wally would turn me into a statue and put me in a museum, so no. That’s not happening.” The Wayne boys owed her big time.

“ID’s?” The bouncer shined a flash night near their faces, eyeing them.

Rose pressed her ID into the guys hand, biting her grin. “Hey there.”

The bouncer smirked. “Who’s the kid?”

“Oh, him? He’d just here to drive us home. Just got his license, right Bart?” Rose giggled. “Hey, you busy later, or--?” She swiped the sharpie from his pocket, scribbling a phone number on his arm.

“Have fun. But keep him out of trouble.”

Rose threw him a mock salute, shoving Bart inside before the bouncer could change his mind. “Whew. Okay. Just promise me you won’t do anything--”

“Oo. What’s this?”

Turning around, Rose caught Bart popping a brightly colored pill into his mouth. “Bart, no!” Shit shit shit. She grabbed his wrist.

Bart’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. “Too late.”

“You don’t know what’s in that!” Fuck. Wally was going to kill her.

“I’ll be fiiine. You worry too much. Let’s dance!” Bart tugs her to the middle of the room, oblivious to the strangers he’s running into. Yup. If Wally doesn’t kill her first, Bart is first on her shit list.

At least the music’s nice--loud and thrumming through her entire body. She would almost enjoy it, if it weren’t for the looming feeling of shit about to hit the fan. It’s one thing if Rose gets high and gets sick and wakes up in the ER--Bart’s just a kid.

After a few songs, Rose starts to think maybe Bart just found some candy and is just messing around to piss her off.

Then he steps inside her bubble. She can’t hear what he’s saying, so Bart yells in her ear. “You’re really pretty.”

Fucking fantastic. “And you’re high. Fuck off.”

Bart moves back, only to dive in closer, tripping over Rose’s feet. “This stuff is great. I can see why you wanted it. I can fly.” He scrunches his nose. “No. I could run. Run right across the ocean something.”

That’s a mental image that will haunt her later. “You’re not even close, kid.” It’s then Bart decides to grind up against some dude twice his age. It’s then Rose decides to steer him outside.

“Ro-ose.”

“Shove it, Bart. We can still hear it out here.”

“Oo. It’s so nice and cold out here. You’re right.” Rose has to peel herself out of his hug. He only hugs her again, spinning them around. “You’re the best.”

“And you’re still high.” How long does that shit last, anyway? Time drags on so much longer when she’s sober.

“Noooo. I mean it.” Bart pokes her nose. “You’re watching out for me. You’re like my big sister.”

“Your big sister that will kill you if Wally doesn’t get to you first.”

Bart stares at her jacket, running his finger along stitching on her sleeve.

“You okay?” Rose has no idea how it’s possible, but quiet Bart is worse than talkative Bart.

“You got any gum?” Bart doesn’t wait for her answer, digging through her pockets until he finds some. He then unwraps the rest of her back before shoving it in his mouth.

“Yeah, sure. Have some gum.” It’s going to be a long night--Rose can tell.

“Got any water?” Bart fiddles with the zipper on her pocket. “I’m so thirsty. Do you get thirsty on this stuff?”

Rose groans, dragging him back inside. “Let’s find you some gatorade.”

------

Hours, maybe centuries later, Bart sits with Rose outside, snuggled up to her as close as he can get. Her tiny leather jacket doesn’t really work as a blanket for them both, but it’ll have to do. “Still cold?” She asks.

Bart’s voice is muffled against her collarbone. “Yeah. But it’s better.”

Rose rests her chin on top of his head, rubbing her head down his back. She’ll probably never know what having a little brother feels like, but this will do. Damnit. Bart might be the stupidest little fuck, but he’s her stupid little fuck and she will fucking murder anyone who hurts him. Her knuckles will have bruises by morning, but she’ll feel better than the creep with the freshy broken nose.

“Rose?” Bart sighs, and Rose feels him tremble.

“Yeah?”

“You ever like someone who didn’t like you back?”

Rose chews her lip, remembering Dick and his impossibly blue eyes, and his stupid grin. How she’d move the world for him and he’d still just pat her on the head like she was his kid sister. Bart didn’t need to know about that. “Yeah.” The whole world didn’t need to know it either.

“Why does it hurt so much?” Bart breathes in like there’s ice in his lungs.

“Fuck, Bart. What did you take?” Rose tilts his chin up, studying his face, as if that will give her a good answer. It won’t.

“No. I mean. When you lo--like someone, and they think you’re best friends. Why does it have to hurt like this?” Bart sniffs. “How do you people deal with this all the time?”

Rose stares at him. Not once has she ever seen Bart cry. Bart isn’t the kind of kid who knows how to cry--not because he’s some bro-ner clutching his man card. Sadness and Bart just don’t go together. He has one mode, only one, and that is pure joy and smiles and energy that usually makes Rose want to hurl. What the hell happened to the kid who came with her to the rave? Only when her mouth feels dry does Rose realize that her jaw fell open. She snaps it back shut. “Do you need me to kill someone?”

“What? No. No. He’s perfect. He just doesn’t like me back.” Bart shakes, vibrating through his entire body. “Of all people I could finally fall for--why’d it have to be him?”

“Him, huh?” Rose smirks, handing him yet another tissue. “Do I know this him?”

A sniff. “Yeah. I think he parties with Roy and Jason sometimes.”

“That really narrows it down.” Rose rolls her eyes.

“He’s got this great tan, and he always smells like taco seasoning.”

“So romantic.”

“And when he speaks Spanish it’s like--” Bart laughs “my brain finally stops, you know?” He stares up at the sky as if the object of his affection can be found among the constellations. “I used to think he looked kind of funny, I mean, who spends that much time on their hair? But now? I can’t stop thinking about how I want to mess up that hair. Run my fingers through it, I mean.”

“Wait. Jaime? The kid who works at Taco Bell?”

“You’re the same age as him.”

“Yeah, but the way he kisses R--never mind.” Rose coughs. “Have you told him yet?”

“Told him what?”

“Told him how you feel?”

“Jaime? No. No. I can’t.” Bart jumps out of her arms, pacing back and forth so fast he almost seemed like a blur in the low light.

Rose smirked. “You both speak English, you both work at the same mall. There is no reason you can’t tell him you want to jump his bones.”

“But what if he doesn’t like me back? He’s my best friend Rose! What if it gets weird??”

“Then find someone else to bang?”

“I can’t.” Bart stops, biting his lip so hard it turns white. “...This isn’t so easy for me.” He scratches his scalp, his skin turning as red as his hair. “The last time I dated a friend...he didn’t feel the same way. And now it’s weird.” Bart sniffs.

Oh no. Not again. “Bart--”

“I can’t lose Jaime like that.” And there he goes. “I don’t want to.”

“Oh Bart.” Rose hugs him, patting the back of his head. He’s probably going to outgrow her in a year. “It’s gonna be okay.”

“I hardly ever feel this way about anybody. I just--”

She pulls away enough to stare him in the face. “Bart. You work at Kord Square. Everyone there is queer. You have lots of friends.”

“But--”

“Bartholomew Henry Allen II, you will be fine. I promise. Let’s go hang out in the car, yeah?” Bart mutters an okay, rubbing his eyes, and Rose guides him back, a plan already forming in her mind. She can practically see the outcome. Those two love birds won’t know what hit them.

#oops this was supposed to go out three weeks ago my bad #kord center mall #dc comics #jayrose #jason todd #rose wilson #joey wilson #jack nought #bart allen #melody writes

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bandzrus · 5 years

Text

My Kinda Lover (One-Shot)

The Dirt!Vince Neil x Reader

Masterlist

SUMMARY // requested by anonymous – Vince being shy around a girl, getting nervous and messing up a show when she’s there

NOTE // the year is 1981 btw, right before Motley Crue formed. Uhg, I feel like Vince is so much harder to write than Nikki or Tommy, even though I love him.

WORDS // 2905

TAGLIST // @mainly-me @shamelessobsessions @broken-pieces @calspixie @shouttatthedevill @cigarettes-after-sexxx @thatbandchick39 @buckyofthemyscira @countrygirlswonderland @kawennote09 @tommyfuckinlee @miserablecunt @madsthegroupie @livingforrt @catsoo12 @whisky-a-go-go @motherloovebone @rysepieces98 @kickstartmyheartmc @voguesixx @marvelismylifffe @iluvmesomemarvelndc @princesof-theuniverse

***

It was a series of convoluted events that got you and Vince Neil together. Your brother was the leading cause of these events, and being the teasing older sibling that he was, he wasn’t ever going to let you forget it. It started a month before it happened, when your brother finally stopped sleeping through his history class and saw Mandy. New to school and therefore single, your brother was one of many bachelors who asked her out, all with no success. Except your brother wasn’t a quitter, and he made it his personal mission to follow her around like a love-sick puppy opening doors for her, picking flowers, and going to every party she was invited to whether he was on the guest list or not. And that’s how you wound up at Angie’s pool party.

Angie was one of the most popular girls in your brother’s year and was notorious for throwing the best parties in LA. Her parents both worked in big law firms and spent more of their time at the office than at home, which meant Angie had the run of the mansion. It was never difficult to score an invite to one of these parties – as long as you’d never had an unpleasant run-in with Angie, you were welcome to help yourself to all the booze, bikinis, and pool floaties Angie had to offer. You barely knew Angie and wouldn’t have gone to the party on your own accord, but your parents insisted your brother take you along since they were going out of town for the weekend and didn’t want you staying home alone too long even though you were plenty old enough to. Your brother of course was going because Mandy was going. And while you poked fun of him all the way there like the annoying little sister you were, it turned out to be one of the best things that ever happened to you.

“If you’re wearing your speedo right now Jason,” you warned your brother. “I’m going to disown you.”

“Chicks dig the speedo!”

“No we don’t!”

“Mandy won’t be able to resist me,” grinned Jason, gripping the wheel of his ’69 Mustang casually with one hand while his other hovered over the shifter.

“You’re going to send her into shock.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m going to call the police and say there’s a guy exposing himself if you come out in your speedo,” you said, feet resting on the dash. You tapped your fingers along to “Free Ride” by The Edgar Winter Group on the radio.

“I swear to god, Y/N if you embarrass me in front of Mandy I’ll-“

“You don’t need my help to do that, you’re perfectly capable of embarrassing yourself all on your own,” you chided. “And your threats don’t scare me.”

“I’ll tell mom and dad you were drinking.”

“Jason, I’m twenty.”

“Yeah, underage! They’ll ground you.”

“When they found out I drank at Hailey Anderson’s party in eleventh grade they didn’t care,” you pointed out. “They’re not going to ground me now.”

Your brother frowned and didn’t say anything for a moment, knowing you’d won the argument.

“Fine, can we agree to just leave each other alone at this party then?”

“I would like nothing more than to not associate myself with you,” you agreed.

“I don’t want you fucking things up between me and Mandy, I think she’s finally coming around.”

“If you say so,” you sighed, turning your head to look out the window at the passing California hills. It was nearing the end of May and the perfect day for a pool party, and if you were being honest you were glad you were going to a place with a swimming pool. It was hot as hell outside.

Angie lived up on a hill, and as your brother pulled into the long driveway you could spot part of the Hollywood sign in the distance.

“Come on, shitbird,” Jason called, pocketing his keys and swaggering up the path to Angie’s front door. You could already hear the party in the backyard.

“Coming asshat,” you snapped back. Name-calling was nothing out of the ordinary with you two, and you’d probably been reprimanded more by your parents for that than any other bad deeds. Ringing the bell, the two of you waited patiently on Angie’s doorstep until she came to the door.

“Hey Angie!” greeted Jason, putting on what he thought was his most charming smile.

“Hi Jason.”

Angie was blocking the doorway, one hand on her hip and the other on the doorframe.

“We’re here for the party.”

“Aw, Jason! I thought we were selling Girl Scout cookies!” you whined, giving your brother your best pouty face. It made Angie laugh.

“I didn’t know you had a sister,” she mused, giving you a friendly smile. Jason just rolled his eyes and sighed, abandoning his smooth-guy act.

“My parents forced me to bring her along – I made her swear she’d just sit in a corner with a beer or something.”

“How old are you?”

“Twenty.”

“Did you bring a bathing suit?”

“Yup,” you answered, flipping up your shirt to reveal your red bathing suit.

“Want a beer?”

“Love one.”

“Come on in then,” smirked Angie, lifting her arm so you could get inside the house. Jason made to follow you, but Angie blocked him off again.

“Hey!” he protested, throwing his hands in the air. “What gives Ang?”

“Did you bring a bathing suit?” she inquired, eyeing your brother up and down critically.

“He wore his speedo,” you informed her, giving Jason your best shit-eating grin. He flipped you off.

“A speedo huh?”

“Chicks dig it.”

You and Angie shared an understanding look before she turned back to your brother and lifted her arm to let him pass.

“Thank you,” he scoffed, shooting daggers at you. The two of you followed Angie through the house and out to the backyard where about forty other people your age were milling around drinking beer, smoking, laughing, or splashing in the pool. Yup, a perfect day for a pool party. You spotted Mandy first and smacked Jason on the arm to get his attention.

“Try to not embarrass yourself too much,” you said. “I’m grabbing a beer.”

“Fuck off.”

“Gladly.”

Watching your brother shrug off his leather jacket and run a hand through his hair like some kind of preening bird, you rolled your eyes and then headed for the drinks table.

“Just a beer thanks.”

“Sure.”

Handing you a cold one from a cooler full of ice, the guy running the table waved you off as a gaggle of girls came up to him. Popping the cap off and taking a swig, the cold liquid felt especially good on a hot day. You noted a few people your age milling around, but then something else caught your attention. At the far side of the pool there was a drum kit and some other instruments set up. Taking another sip of your beer, you decided to wander over and investigate. As you were making your way over trying to catch a glimpse of who exactly was about to play, music filled the air. You recognized the song almost instantly.

“You got my motor racin’

I find my thoughts embracin' your every move

I wanna set you reelin’

I want to make you feel the way that I do

And oh

I been thinkin' 'bout you for so long

I don't want to lose ya, you're my kinda lover

My kinda lover

My kinda lover!”

It was “My Kinda Lover” by Billy Squier, accept it sounded better than the original which you hadn’t thought possible. Elbowing your way through the crowd that had gathered, you finally spotted who exactly was playing. Three long-haired brunettes on drums, keyboard, and guitar, and smack in the middle the hottest guy you’d ever seen. Baby blond hair, tight white snake-skin leather pants, studded belt, jean jacket – he screamed rock star. Your jaw dropped open.

“Oh fuck me,” you muttered under your breath. You couldn’t take your eyes off him; none of the girls crowded around the band could. Totally mesmerized by the way he moved his hips, the longer you stared the less you realized you were drooling.

“My kinda lover

My kinda lover

My kinda lover!”

Leaning in close to a few of the ditsy blondes next to you to finish the last bout of chorus, the band wrapped up the song. Cheering, whistling, and swooning, your good day had just turned into a great one. And it was about to get even better.

“Thank you, we are Rock Candy!” said the blond, giving the crowd a winning smile. Blinking and shaking your head, you finally realized you had drool on your chin. The blond singer glanced over at you and chuckled as you wiped the drool off with the back of your hand.

“Shit!” you muttered, feeling yourself blush scarlet. The crowd was starting to dissipate now that the band was abandoning their instruments in favour of cold booze, but a few of the girls were sticking around hoping for more. When they realized the blond wasn’t paying them any attention and looking at you instead, you could hear them make a couple nasty remarks under their breath before they too wandered off.

“Never had that before,” commented the singer, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand as he adjusted the mic stand with the other.

“Hmm?”

“I’ve never had a girl physically drool before,” he laughed.

“I wasn’t-“

“I dig it.”

“Wha- really? I’m totally embarrassed,” you confessed.

“Yeah. Makes me want to actually consider being a real rock star.”

“I thought you already were.”

“Really?”

“What the fuck do you think?” you laughed lightly. “I was drooling!”

“Now, was that over the music or just over me?” the blond asked coyly, taking a step towards you and adjusting his pants. You bit your lip.

“Cocky son of a bitch, aren’t you?”

“Been told that before.”

“Both,” you answered honestly.

“Want to get something to eat?”

“I’d love to.”

Swaggering back over to the drinks table, you started munching on chips while the singer asked for a beer. You leaned your hip against the table and ignored the judgmental stares of other girls as you waited for the blond to pop the cap off his drink. With a hiss, the metal cap came off and he took a rock star length swig of beer before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Before I start calling you Drool Girl, mind telling me your name?”

You laughed.

“It’s Y/N,” you answered.

“Vince.”

“Well it’s a pleasure to meet you, Vince.”

You bit a particularly large chip in half and then held the other half out to Vince.

“Pleasure to meet you too,” he said, letting you feed him the chip.

“What brings you around here, rock star? I’ve never seen you before.”

“Free booze,” Vince held up his bottle. “Hot chicks.

This time he gestured at you.

“What about you?”

“I came here with my idiot brother,” you confessed.

“Oh? Which one’s he?”

“The one flexing his non-existent muscles for Mandy over there,” you pointed. Your brother looked like a total wad, taking turns gawking at Mandy and his own bicep. Vince just laughed.

“He thinks he’s got game.”

“You’re related to that guy?”

“Unfortunately yes,” you sighed, turned back to the blond and taking a sip of the beer you’d forgotten was in your hand. “He’s been going after her for a month now, you’d think he’d give up but no.”

“She’s way out of his league.”

“Oooh yeah!”

“Does he have a cool car?”

“Huh?”

“Does he have a cool car at least?” asked Vince, taking another long swig of his drink.

“Yeah, he drives a Mustang,” you frowned.

“He taken her for a drive yet?”

“Uuuh-“ just as you were about to reply no, you saw your brother grab Mandy’s hand and by the way he was gesturing you could tell that’s exactly what they were about to go do.

“-I was gonna say no, but…” you pointed at the two of them with the head of your beer bottle. The singer just laughed again.

“Do you drive anything?”

“I’ve got a 280z.”

“Shit, really?” Vince asked, nearly choking on his beer.

“Yeah.”

“I’ve wanted one of those forever.”

“Well, you’re gonna be a rock star, I’m sure you’ll be able to afford one in no time,” you giggled, twirling a bit of hair around your finger.

“You really think I could be a rock star?”

“Definitely,” you purred, taking a step towards him and fiddling with the hem of his jean jacket.

“Hey! Vinny!”

It was one of the other Rock Candy members calling for the singer. Turning his head, Vince gave a nod of acknowledgement.

“Hurry up, we’ve got another song to do!”

“Give me a minute, geezus!”

“Hurry the fuck up, dude!”

“Fuckin’ asshole,” muttered Vince, turning back to you. “Sorry ‘bout that. Can we finish this later? Maybe over another one of these?” he held up his beer bottle before downing the rest of its contents.

“I’d love that.”

“Cool.”

And with that the blond planted a flash of a kiss on your lips before nudging his way through the crowd. Standing there stunned for a minute, it took a particularly loud scoff from a nearby girl to snap you out of it.

Eating another handful of chips and finishing off your beer, you decided it was high time you peel off your street clothes and strip down to your bathing suit. The band had already started playing, and once again you recognized the song almost instantly. It was Deep Purple’s “Highway Star”. Balling up your t-shirt and shorts and tossing them under the nearest hedge where nobody would bother with them, you were about to shimmy your way back to Vince through the crowd when suddenly you had a better idea. Grinning to yourself, you jumped into the pool. Submerged, you were pleasantly surprised at how warm the water was. The LA sun worked fast. You swam towards the other end of the pool, only breaking for air when you came up on the other side. Gripping the edge with one hand, you ran your other through your wet hair. If you were doing this right, you looked like a damn model. The crowd still had a couple gaps in it and from your vantage point you could see the singer perfectly.

“Nobody gonna take my car

I'm gonna race it to the ground

Nobody gonna beat my car

It's gonna break the speed of sound

Oooh it's a killing machine

It's got everything

Like a driving power big fat tires

And everything!”

Vince’s eyes met yours, just as you started making the move to get out of the pool. Pushing yourself up chest first, you winked at him. Your bathing suit left little the imagination and you knew it. Sliding out of the pool with more grace than even you knew was possible, Vince’s singing started to falter.

“I love it and I need it

I bleed it

Y-yeah it's a wild hurricane

Alright hold t-tight

I'm a highway star!”

Smoothing your hair, you let the water run off your body as you smiled and bit your lip at him. Maybe the red on the blond’s cheeks was from the heat or the singing, but you knew better.

“N-nobody gonna take my girl

I'm gonna keep h-her to the end

Nobody gonna have my girl

She stays close on every bend-d

Oo-ooh she's a killing machine

She's got everything

Like a moving mouth body c-control

And everything

I l-love her I need her-“

The band was getting annoyed with Vince, you could see it on their faces and even hear it in their playing. More than just some of the catty girls were staring at you now. A bunch of your brother’s colleagues were too, and of course Vince couldn’t keep his eyes off you. He cut the chorus short, and the band started to trickle off, wrapping the song up before their singer butchered it too badly. Vince let go of the microphone and gave an apologetic look at his bandmates before stepping into the crowd. You were still standing near the edge of the pool, one hand absently playing with your wet hair.

“I’m sorry, was I distracting you, rock star?” you asked, faking innocence. The blond wet his lips nervously, looking down at his feet for a brief moment before back up to you.

“You did that on purpose,” he said plainly.

“Maaaybe.”

“First you drool for me, and now you’re getting wet for me.”

You knew he was talking about a different kind of wet.

“What are you going to do about it?” you asked him, lifting an eyebrow.

“Give me your number and you’ll find out.”

“Fine. Got a pen?”

Vince looked back at one of his band buddies for a pen. Thankfully one of them had one. You took it and then grabbed Vince’s hand in yours. Using your teeth to pull the cap off, you carefully scrawled your number onto the singer’s wrist.

“There,” you finished, letting go and recapping the pen. “Use it.”

“Oh I will,” promised Vince. “Especially now that I know you’ve got a 280z.”

***

Uhg, I’m so sorry this took so long for me too finish, it’s not even that long and I liked the concept. Next on my list is part 10 of TNFT, but I may take another break soon and work on some more of my requests. I hope this didn’t suck too much and let me know if you want to be tagged in anything!

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scaryscarecrows · 4 years

Note

Would the Squad survive a Zombie apocalypse? And what is their plan if there ever is one?

Trent: OH YEAH.

Mark: Please. I’m begging you. Never do the Kool-Aid man impression again.

Trent: HAVE I GOT PLANS.

Mark: I don’t know this man. Send help.

Trent: Pfft. Whatever. The boss has plans, he’s not disowned!

Jason: I grew up in Gotham. When I was nine, some weirdo tried to infect stray animals with a pseudo-rabies virus. Zombies are a real risk for me.

Trent: …oh, yeah. ANYWAYS, yeah. Y’know how in The Last of Us, Pittsburgh’s taken over by homicidal nuts? And it’s, like, a fortress with barbed wire everywhere? Like that, but less ‘murder random people for fun’, because we gotta rebuild society somehow and you can’t do that when you kill everyone that gets inside.

Riley: We’re invited, right? You wouldn’t leave us to the swarms?

Trent: Eh. Sure.

Riley: Nice. And eh, Trentland aside, I’d probably just settle into the woods somewhere. I can take care of myself just fine.

Mark: No. Absolutely no.

Jimmy: And that’s why you’d probably die. Now, me? I have the brains-shut up, Antoine-to hole up in Costco. Or Wal-Greens, I don’t care which. But I’m not gettin’ bit or caught outside.

Antoine: Nah, man, Mark’s too spiteful to die. And eh, like, I WANT to say I’d do that? But in all reality, I’d probably, like, become some sort of bodyguard or something. Y’know, ‘protection while going from point A to point B in exchange for penicillin’ or something. I don’t know, something like that.

Frank: You’d get yourself chomped on playing zombie chicken.

Antoine: What a way to go, though.

Frank: I’m with Jimmy. Costco. Big, lotta merch, easy to booby-trap. And you can fit a lot of people in there, make a little apartment complex kinda thing.

Jason: Until there’s a differing of opinions.

Frank: What’s your plan, then, sir?

Jason: Rig Gotham to blow, settle into Penguin’s museum, and wait for it to be over.

Frank: …

Trent: …

Antoine: He’s not gonna let you in there. He hates your guts right now.

Jason: :) I’ll throw him out. He’ll survive, I guarantee-I guess way back in the day there was a murder attempt at LEAST once a week, yet here he is-so I don’t even have to pretend to be sorry. Quick, easy, and Batman-free.

Mark: That is the dumbest goddamn plan–

Jimmy: COSTCOOOOOOO.

Antoine: Penguin’s museum, you gotta be kidding–

Frank: –no self-preservation–

Riley: GET OUT OF THE CITY IT’S BEST–

Trent: Or at least take over the city, come on–

#asks #the squad #zombie apocalypse

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darthmanius · 5 years

Text

A dark place

Thinking about Lexa again has once more caused the darkest corners of my mind to become loud again.

Recently, a girl in this ward died after being rescued from conversion therapy. The same therapy my grandmother would willing subject me to just for the crime of being gay.

In the world of the 100, the idea of homosexuality is completley normal, nobody even blinks twice. Because they have evolved past bigotry and discrimination (for the most part, looking at you, Pike)

In the world of today, the world is only just starting to accept differences in sexuality. Coming out to someone is seen as a major thing, a potentially life changing event with a possibility of shunning or disowning or any other serious repercussion. Many groups and factions in the world consider any sexuality that is not heterosexuality to be an abomination and in some places, punishable by death.

For me personally, growing up in a world where that was what I could expect if I accepted that I was gay, led me to ruin even as a child not even in high school. The idea that I could be gay absolutely horrified me. Because I saw my future as being ostracised and scorned and tortured and brainwashed into being straight.

Today I had another test done on my injured shoulder to see if it was able to hold up to the stress of playing softball again. In the past, as the Captain of my club and rep teams, I would call on the strength and wisdom of Lexa to lead my players well. I would wear her war paint to big games. For context, my team is called The Warriors so we all wear some kind of face paint design as part of our team identity. I chose Lexa’s war paint and I would wear her famous design to big games such as finals or playoffs or games where there was big intensity or personal feelings and for regular games, I would wear a design similar to what she wore in 3x03. I chose it for many reasons. To bring awareness to LGBTQ rights, to intimidate the opposition, to encourage myself to be the best leader I could be, but also because Lexa was my freaking hero. To me, she was a sign that the world was changing, that non straight people were starting to be accepted. That maybe my fate if I accepted myself wouldn’t be as dark as I always pictured.

And then the stray bullet happened. Thanks a lot Jason.

If I fail this stress test, it’s likely I’ll have to officially retire from playing for good. My shoulder wouldn’t be able to hold up to playing again. My career will have been officially ended by a malicious HBP.

I’ve found myself thinking more and more on Lexa’s “Love is weakness”. I might be starting to believe it.

If I didn’t love anybody, I wouldn’t have this fear of my sexuality that led to me being assaulted by a pastor and the same fear that has haunted me of what my life could (and has) been since I was a child.

If I didn’t love my sport and my team, I wouldn’t be so depressed and miserable and feeling worthless and like dying if my career ends.

If I didn’t love my grandma in some way, I could cut her off easily for all the shit she has put me through.

If I didn’t love my brother, I wouldn’t spend every waking moment terrified of receiving a call to tell me he’s been killed in action.

If I didn’t love Lexa so much, I wouldn’t be filled with a sense of hopelessness and depression and pain every time I think of her because of what they did to her. Because of the message they sent to us by what they did to her.

I wrote all this in my diary too, which I will burn once I’m finished here.

Maybe love really is weakness. And maybe hope is just a way to make the stray bullet hurt even more when it comes.

P.S You can throw Emison in there too because there’s another example of a lesbian ship getting screwed over because fuck you gay people don’t get happy endings.

#clexakru #clexa #lexa deserved better #lexa kom trikru #reshop heda #heda lexa #lexa x clarke #clarke griffin #the100 #depression #recovery #TW suicide #diary #love is weakness #emison

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sebeth · 5 years

Text

Young Justice Outsiders: “Princes All”

Warning, Spoilers Ahead…

Young Justice: Princes All

I accidentally spoiled myself of a small part of the episode. Of course, it was the plot element that would fill me with rage and disgust. If you’ve read my Young Justice posts, you can guess what it was – Conner’s proposal to Megan.

I’m very puzzled why the writers insist on reuniting the pair. The creators consistently display a fine attention to detail – there is no way the writers can be oblivious the manipulative, obsessive, and abusive overtones of the relationship.

Conner’s reunion with Megan is simply a case of an abused person returning to their abuser.

Is there a big Conner/Megan fanbase? Honest question. The majority of fans preferred pairing for Conner is Tim. I’ve also seen fan works pairing Conner with Bart Allen, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, and Cassie Sandsmark. I don’t often see fanworks supporting the Conner/Megan pairing. As for Young Justice fans, I would say Wally/Artemis, Bart/Jaime and even the very brief Dick/Zatanna have bigger fanbases.

Color me optimistic but I don’t think the marriage will happen. Conner has apparently been carrying the ring around for over a month. That’s not the actions of a man certain of his decision.

I feel Conner returned to Megan simply because that’s the only non-familial love he’s known. Besides his family and super-hero friends, Conner is pretty isolated. And he’s not great in social situations. The return to Megan, as nauseating as it is, probably feels like a return to normalcy.

I don’t know, I just have a feeling something will happen to end the relationship. Megan will either revert to her mind-ripping ways – once again breaking Conner’s trust and ending the relationship – or Megan dies by the end of the season.

The prequel issues stated Psimon is back and holding a grudge. Megan has other victims – that may or may not have recovered – that will hold grudges. If you’ve read the 1980’s Teen Titans comic you know that Psimon is a vicious and vindictive man. And he’s all about the sneak attacks. If I was Megan, I’d be worried.

The creators are rather determined to ignore any consequences for Megan’s actions and to make her life “happy-happy”. I think it’s suspicious.

A hero dies in every season of Young Justice. Season 1 had Kent Nelson. The video game had Tula. Jason Todd and Ted Kord died during the time jump. Wally died in the second season. The odds of a hero not dying during season 3 aren’t great. Why promote Megan so hard in the prequel comics? And handwave away any consequences of her actions? Could it be because Megan has a target on her back?

Maybe Psimon strikes during the wedding – causing the erasure of Megan’s mind and later death? Talk about karma!

Or it could be wishful thinking on my part as I loathe the Conner/Megan pairing!

On to the episode…

We replay the ending of the final episode of the previous season.

July 4, the Watchtower

Kaldur argues with Dick: “This is no time for you to resign.”

Dick insists he’s not resigning, simply taking a leave of absence.

July 4, Markovburg, Two years later:

A young man is told of his sister’s death. Said sister is not only alive but is being experimented on: “Initiate tar protocol”.

Poor Ana’s metagene is not only activated but she is transformed into an energy-tar creature and transported to Rann.

The confused Ana-tar creature attacks members of the Justice League – Ice, Wonder Woman, Black Lightning, Superman, John Stewart, Martian Manhunter – Alanna, and Adam Strange.

Ana dies. Alana scans the creatures and realizes it is a 14 years-old earth child.

The “Young Justice Outsiders” theme is haunting and ominous. It also clearly displays Apokolips.

July 27, the Watchtower: Megan, rocking the White Martian look, praises the Alpha squad while mentioning the Gamma squad still needs training.

Steel and Black Lightning arrive at the Watchtower. The Justice League are holding a meeting to determine Black Lightning’s fate. It was his energy blast that killed poor Ana.

Surprise! Kaldur is now Aquaman and the leader of the Justice League! It would explain why Kaldur was absent from the promotional trailers and materials.

Megan is leader of Young Justice. Boo!

Bat(Kaldur), Wonder Woman, Black Lightning, Black Canary, Green Arrow, Doctor Fate, Captain Marvel, Steel, Rocket, Zatanna, Batman, Red Tornado, Plastic Man, Katana, Flash, Hardware, Batwoman, Superman, Ice, John Stewart, and the Martian Manhunter.

Hardware is from the same Milestone universe as Rocket, Icon, and Static.

Batwoman is a surprise.

Diana confirms meta-human trafficking has spread from earth to other worlds.

Batman, Green Arrow, Black Canary, and Black Lightning are very frustrated with the lack of progress in stopping the meta-human trafficking.

Lex Luthor is the United Nation’s secretary general – and is using the position to be a pain in the League’s rumps.

Batman is done: “But all that matters is the mission. If the UN is a roadblock to that mission, then we remove it by removing the League.”

Kaldur and Diana are not down with that plan.

Bruce and Oliver resign their League memberships.

Bruce’s resignation is accurate to the founding of the Outsiders in the comic books. Back in the 1980s, Bruce needed to rescue Lucius Fox from a foreign country. The Justice League’s agreement with the United Nations didn’t allow Batman or the League to enter said country. Bruce said “I quit”, formed the Outsiders, stormed the country, and rescued Lucius.

Hardware, Plastic Man, Katana, and Batwoman promptly resign. Katana and Kate aren’t a surprise – Kate is Bruce’s cousin and a Gotham gal and Katana has always been Team Batman. Plastic Man has been a strong ally of Batman since the late 1990s. Hardware is a surprise as he has no connection with Bruce or Oliver.

Dinah accuses Bruce, Oliver, and company of planning this in advance. Oliver asks Dinah to join the group, she refuses. It’s safe to say Dinah and Oliver are taking a break. Breaks are standard operating procedure for Ollie and Dinah so I’m not overly worried for the future of their relationship.

Jefferson swears he wasn’t part of Bruce and Ollie’s stunt but he came to the meeting to resign in person.

Kaldur and Diana decides to issue a statement disowning their former members’ future actions.

The Young Justice team are chilling in the waiting area. Jaime and Bart are chatting – BFFs or dating? If they are dating, will the show ever make it official? Tim and Cassie are next to each other – they were thrown together in the season finale – so, still dating? Is it serious? Steph and Cissie are hanging out – a friendship that has strong possibilities. Unfortunately, the girls never had much interaction in the comics.

Batman strolls in and announces “It’s time.” Robin and Arrowette leave with their mentors. Tim doesn’t surprise me. I’ve always felt Tim was the most loyal to Bruce out of all his Robins. Dick, Jason, and have always banged heads with Bruce. Damian, if forced to choose, would side with Dick over Bruce. Tim is Bruce’s “ride or die” Robin.

I’m surprised over Stephanie and Cissie. As I said earlier, Steph routinely goes against Bruce’s wishes. Cissie has never had much – if any – interaction with Ollie in the comics.

Bruce asks Jeff to join his group – Jeff refuses as he doesn’t trust Batman and doesn’t want to be part of Batman Incorporated.

Jeff and Bruce have a different relationship as Jeff is very “Team Batman” in the comics.

Are we going to get Batman Incorporated? With a Knight & Squire appearance?

Jeff apologizes to Static: “I’m sorry, Virgil. Maybe you can find a new mentor. One who is less damaged.”

The duo doesn’t have any type of connection in the comics but it’s a natural relationship.

The rest of Young Justice – especially Cassie and Bart – are very confused as to what is going on.

Moscow, July 28: A disguised Dick Grayson, in communication with Oracle, rescue a few meta-human trafficking victims.

So how long will the writers wait until the identity of Oracle is revealed to the viewers? And will the Joker be responsible for Barbara’s paralysis?

Dick is tracking down Bedlam, who is responsible for the tar mutation goop.

Oracle has spent time around Bart as she refers to something as “crash”.

We switch to Markovia. King Viktor and Queen Illona DeLamb-Markov are holding a press conference. Princess Tara disappeared two years ago. Brion has recently returned from studying abroad.

The royal couple speaks out in support of Quarqi refugees – fleeing the recent invasion of a Queen Bee-led Biayla - and against metahuman trafficking.

Brion asks Dr. Jace about the results of his meta-gene testing. He tested positive. Brion wants his meta-gene activated.

Dr. Jace was a supporting cast member of the Outsiders in the comic books.

Dick is in Star City. Barbara informs Dick of Bruce and company’s mass resignation. Dick insists he “can’t worry about that now.”

Babs has determined the likely location of the meta-trafficking in Markovia but insists Dick will need backup.

Dick is way ahead of her.

We discover Artemis has moved to Star City and lives with Roy Harper and Lian.

Roy is going by “Will”.

Where’s Cheshire? Did she go back to the dark side?

Where’s young Roy? I don’t remember seeing him on the Watchtower.

July 29th” Future Halo is in the Markovian castle. She lets in others who quickly murder the King and Queen.

Queen Illona’s brother kills the intruder. I’m very suspicious of Queen Illona’s brother.

Dick approaches Happy Harbor.

Hey, there’s Wolfe! Enjoying a nice nap.

Conner is worried about Superman being off planet for so long. He feels a burden to step into Superman’s shoes.

Dick arrives to recruit Conner. Conner agrees. Dick reminds Conner that it’s a non-super suit mission. As in, you can’t wear the “S” shirt.

Dick leaves to find his next recruit.

It’s both interesting – an odd- that Dick didn’t ask Megan along. Her powers – telepathy, shape-changing, invisibility, phasing – are perfect for covert mission. Conner’s abilities and personality are the exact opposite of covert. The reason can’t be that he’s afraid of leaving Young Justice without a leader – Dick states it’s a one-day mission. So why not bring Megan? Has Dick discovered her mind-wiping spree? Or her assault on Conner’s mind? Has he lost trust in Megan? I am baffled as to why Dick wouldn’t recruit Megan unless its due to personal issues.

Megan falls back to her manipulative ways: “I don’t want to be that kind of girlfriend, but…I just lost a big chunk of my team to whatever Batman’s got going. I was sort of counting on you.”

Conner’s only going to be gone for 24 hours! Stop being so clingy, needy, and manipulative.

Conner hastens to assure Megan: “You can always count on me. I can prove it.”

Cue the vomit-inducing proposal scene.

Conner, you poor, poor fool. Megan’s playing you like a puppet and you don’t even realize it. I don’t buy Megan’s “surprised” act. Megan’s a very powerful telepath – even if she wasn’t purposely reading his mind, there is no way she didn’t catch hints of Conner buying a ring.

I’m very cynical about Megan. How can we be sure she hasn’t been pushing Conner to propose? Megan is prone to living/retreating in a fantasy life – and she’s been obsessed with and molded Conner from day one.

Sure, Megan’s rocking the White Martian appearance, indicating more acceptance of herself, but her human form is still very “Hello, Megan”.

G. Gordon Godfrey is back. He wants martial law. Queen Illona’s brother claims it was a Quarci metahuman refugee who assassinated his sister and brother in-law.

The Baron states that he will serve as regent as Gregor and Brion, the royal twins, are only 17 years old. If I was the twins, I would be very worried for my safety.

Brion contacts Dr. Jace – he wants his meta-gene activated post-haste.

Metropolis: Jefferson kisses his daughters goodnight. Hi, Anissa and Jennifer!

Jeff informs Lynn that he’s giving up the costumed life.

Lynn doesn’t believe him: “I’m the sister of a Green Lantern and the ex-wife of a Black Lightning. I know how this quitting the life thing goes.”

Lynn is the sister of John Stewart? That’s a new twist.

Jeff leaves the house and immediately tells Dick “No”.

Dick persists. Jeff insists he “can’t” – his powers aren’t working.

Dick informs Jeff that he “came for the man, not the powers”.

July 30, Midnight: Dick is at the meeting spot. Artemis zetas in. Conner arrives in the sphere-ship, Jeff shows up, and the group head to Markovia.

Cute ending scene – Artemis’s dog sleeps with a Wally plush.

I enjoyed the episode minus the Megan parts. It was pure set-up but I’m very intrigued by Bruce and Oliver’s upcoming shenanigans. And you can’t go wrong with the Dick-Conner-Artemis trio.

And we have two more episodes! Exciting!

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