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ofnifflersandkings · 3 years

Text

Endgame Strategy

Character: Benny Watts

A/n: I said I’d write for the hot chess people so I did. The timeline for this is kinda confusing but the desperation I had to write this made me simply not care.

•

“(Y/n)!”

A familiar voice pulled you from your current task of getting Benny’s two ton apartment door shut. You barely got yourself inside before a pair of arms promptly wrapped around you.

You staggered backwards by the sudden weight, a noise between a wheeze and a laugh escaping you as you registered who it was.

“If it isn’t my favorite drama queen!” You pulled back to get a good luck at Beth, a big grin busting out on both of your faces.

“Come in,” She ushered you in, helping you take off your coat and asking you little questions as she lead you over to the sink.

You were a pretty established photographer for some big fashion companies, so you had been traveling with Cleo around Europe for the better half of a year. You’d telephoned Benny as soon as all of your campaigns wrapped up and he instantly insisted you come to New York to make up for lost time.

You had just started to get a word in when you felt someone come up behind you and squeeze you abruptly, practically toppling you over. “Look what the cat dragged in!”

You looked over to see Benny already looking down at you with a grin before promptly ruffling up your hair. “Hey stranger,” He grinned. You pushed him off and turned to give him a proper hug.

You noticed Arthur and Hilton lingering behind him and you pulled yourself from his hold to greet them as well.

“You came at the perfect time,” Benny said, slinging an arm over your shoulder. “We were just about to start.”

“What do you say, (Y/n)?” Hilton asked. “Finally gonna indulge us and play a game?”

You shoved his hands off of you and sent him a smile. “You don’t need some newbie slowing down your thunder,” You noticed Benny giving you the pleading look he always sent your way when you turned down playing chess. You swear you thought he knew how to deflate his eyes on purpose so he looked like a kicked puppy. “No, I don’t need your patronizing when I barely make it past five moves.”

Benny was an old childhood friend of yours, so you had known Arthur and Hilton for almost as long as he had. And they made it their personal life mission to rope into playing against one of them. But you were renowned for your patience and they’d yet to wear you down.

Beth sent a small pout your way and handed you a glass of water. “Oh please, now who’s the drama queen. You were doing great when I was teaching you last time we saw each other.”

Benny’s gaze shot up. “What?”

You scoffed at her, completely forget about your last encounter. “Now that’s not fair, we were hardly playing. You had to show me where to move every five minutes.”

“When did you see each other?” Benny pushed.

You sighed, smoothing down your sweater. “When I was in Paris with Cleo, we only saw each other the one night and I was just bored and tipsy enough to let her show me.”

She grinned at you, shoving her arm into you as she leant into your side. “I think you have lots of potential. I could make a grandmaster out of you, I know it.”

Benny’s eyes followed you as you moved from your standing position to sit next to him on the sofa.

“You never let me teach you how to play,” He murmured to you with a huff, causing a small tuft of his hair to fly upwards.

Benny had made several attempts to get you into the game he loved so dearly. And as one of the few constant people in his life he wanted you to be part of his world. But each time was met with a firm refusal on your part, insisting you wouldn’t get it. He’d try to pull every trick in the book, every charming smile and all the pretty words he knew to try and convince you to let him show you, but you were always indifferent to his charisma.

It annoyed the shit out of him.

Truth was you didn’t want to risk embarrassing yourself in front of him. You’d seen him play at almost every match he was ever in and it was almost scary how good he was. You could play a casual game and maybe boast a win or two, but playing against him wasn’t something you think you’ll ever do. Besides, give him the satisfaction of having your inevitable defeat over your head? Not in this lifetime.

You let out a light laugh, smiling at Beth as she moved to grab the other boards from Benny’s alarming collection he kept stuffed in the closet. “You’re too intimidating when you play, I’d be distracted.”

Benny rolled his eyes, thinking of the stern look that permanently sets on Beth’s face. The woman who looks like she’s three seconds away from going for your neck during her games but he was too intimidating.

You took a sip from your glass of water and lightly knocking over one of the knight pieces on the board in front of you. “I don’t see why it matters, I’ll be beat regardless of who’s playing.”

He frowned, he’d always wanted to play you. Not because he cared about winning but he just wanted you to see his skill firsthand. You didn’t bat an eyelash at winnings anymore, and you never stuck around for his in-depth lectures about game theory with the other players. But he also knew you liked knowing the way things worked. And since chess was his bailiwick, Beth being the only other American player who could beat him, he knew you’d be impressed. At first he just thought you weren’t interested, so knowing you were being taught by someone else stung twice-over.

You knew something was wrong when he didn’t send a clever remark back your way. Benny liked to think he was this cool and collected character, but really he could be quite the prima donna. Knowing him for as long as you did made him an open book, you could almost always know what he was thinking.

“Don’t be such a baby, Bens.” You grinned, leaning over to tap the end of his nose, something you always did to irritate him. “She crushed me anyways.”

“You’d win if you let me teach you.” He argued, looking at you pointedly.

“I don’t need to win, that’s your job,” You leaned into him, trying to stroke his ego to get him to drop the subject.

Benny’s ears perked up and he was about to go into of his grand self-assured lectures when Beth interrupted him, promptly placing the boxes of chess boards on the table in front of him.

“I dunno, (Y/n),” Beth gloated, passing a box to Hilton. “I think he’s losing his touch, last time we played I damn near emptied his wallet.”

That got your attention, and you sat up with a laugh. “You’re kidding? In speed chess?” Your cackles only grew when she gave a proud nod. “I can’t believe I missed it!”

Benny scoffed, pushing away from you to help set up the boards. “You hardly missed anything-“

“She kicked his ass, ,” Arthur chuckled, loosening the cap on his beer bottle. “Said she’d kick him the crotch too when he tried to argue with her.”

You raised your glass to Beth in commencement. “I knew there was a reason I liked you so much.”

“Another simultaneous?” Beth asked, noticing they were moving the boards onto the floor, she turned back to you. “Have you ever seen once of these?”

You shook your head dramatically, moving from your place on the sofa to the floor so you could sit right next to the action. “Nope! I mean I know what they are, but I’ve never actually seen one.”

She smirked, placing the clock at every board while the boys situated the pieces. “Well, you’re in for a treat, these are my specialty.”

You leaned forward, placing your elbows on your knees so could you watch every move. The speed of the game was something you had long gotten used to, but it never was any less impressive. You don’t know how anyone’s brain could go that fast, but watching the pieces fly around the board completely fascinated you.

Beth really was everything the chess magazines said she was and maybe even more amazing in person. You found it hard to pull your gaze away from her hand, watching as she completely tore through the three boys pieces. Hilton and Arthur were the first to lose, knocking over there kings.

You got ready to settle in while she took on Benny, but not even a few moments later you watched him grimace and reluctantly fish his wallet from his pockets.

“Wow,” You breathed out, looking over at Beth with a gaze that could only be described as positively starstruck. “I mean I knew you were good, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like that.”

Beth felt her face get a little warm, not used to such straight-forward praise. At least not since she was a child prodigy. She reached her hand up to brush her hair out of her eyes, and pulled her gaze away from you.

“I can do it again.”

Benny felt his eyebrow twitch, he was used to your praise being directed at him for the most part. You had grown up with him constantly talking about and challenging others to play chess. And when he started to make a name for himself he’d taken you along with him. Before your work took off, you had more time to see his games in person. But, even when you couldn’t physically be there, you always called when you saw the results in Chess Review or tuned in to one of the broadcasted matches.

He was the best in the States for a long time, so you had become especially hard to impress. He knew Beth was better him than by miles, but to finally have his title of best chess player you knew taken away made him feel scratchy.

But he scoffed, straightening his back to try and get his focus back. “Not if I have anything to say about it, Harmon.”

And so for about three more games, she absolutely crushed the three boys. You got closer to the boards each time, admiring Beth’s superhuman skill. It made you feel a little sting of pride, the girl was showing up three of most arrogant and skilled players you knew.

“God,” You leaned back onto your elbows, sniffling a giggle when. “I would’ve given any amount of money to be here to see the faces on these boys when you did this the first time.”

Beth smirked, rounding up the pieces to put them away in their cases. “Me too, we could’ve gotten it all on camera.”

You groaned. “Such a missed opportunity.”

You lolled your head over and saw Benny staring intently at the board, a deep frown on his face. You smiled, scooting over so you could lean all your weight against him. “Don’t look so sad, Bens. I’m sure you would’ve gotten her eventually.”

He laughed, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “That’s what you used to tell all the sorry losers I used to beat.”

You closed your eyes, settling into his side and sighing at his warmth. “You’re not a sorry loser. You’re the best chess player I know.”

“Still?”

“Hey now, I didn’t drag my ass to every one of your matches for decades for you to question my loyalty,” You teased, you opened your eyes and saw something on his wall. Nestled snug inside a frame was the first time he was on the cover of Chess Review.

“You remember when I took that?” You nodded towards it.

Benny smiled properly, his eyes getting a familiar shimmer. “Yes ma’am, I told them I wouldn’t be on the cover unless you got to take my photos,” He wrapped an arm around you. “Course if I had known it’d make you a hot shot photographer who had to go away all the time I might’ve kept my mouth shut.”

You smiled, reaching up to flick his forehead. “I’ve taken all your photos for decades” You made a sweeping notion with your hands to all the various magazines scattered around his apartment. “Even when we were kids, I think I earned my little adventures abroad”

Benny gave you a look, one you couldn’t quite place, but he kept your gaze for awhile. A small smile snuck up in the corner of his mouth before he looked down, strawberry blonde strands hiding him from your view.

“Well don’t stay away so long next time, yeah? I missed you.”

#the way this has bi disaster just written all over it #benny watts imagine #benny watts x reader #benny watts imagines #the queen’s gambit #the queen’s gambit imagine #queen’s gambit imagine

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justletmeplayminecraft · 3 years

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Moving Day

it's the day that comes at the end of every season. and yet, somehow, the hermits still get caught off guard by it.

featuring: hermit ensemble, slice of life fluff, imagine moving houses but like every year and a half, werewolf!ren, something!joe, artic fox!etho, he is vaguely developed, there's pretty much no plot, just fluff, an ode to the end of this season

"Zed, you're gonna be late!" Tango calls as he drops in through the ceiling. With a bang, a mop of blond hair pokes out of the central storage. Zed rubs his head, pulling himself up.

"You're the one who distracted me with the Create world!" He replies, hauling a bag up the ladder with him. Tango laughs, throwing it over his shoulder as Zed flops onto the stone ground.

"Sure I was, it's not like you brought it up." Zed huffs, rolling his eyes. He holds his hands up towards Tango, who laughs. "Oh, you want to go over my shoulder too?" He teases.

"You are insufferable," Zed mutters, pushing off the stone himself instead. The cold is starting to seep through his cardigan.

"Have you packed everything?" Tango asks. Zed holds his fingers up to count off.

"Yes, I've checked everything four times! Maybe five, actually. I don't think there's anything left." Zed looks back at the ladders, closing his fist. Tango examines the pile of bags, humming.

"So you're sure you don't want me or Impulse to check for you?" Zed's mouth opens.

"Actually, can you check anyway?" He asks, "You know, just in case!" Tango laughs, giving Zed's shoulder a bump.

"Of course we will. But let's move these before Xisuma forgets them." Zed nods, quick to grab some of the bags. He heaves them up, almost buried under them.

"Season eight here we come!"

"You two!" Doc calls, scooping up the white fox before he manages to rush past him. Ren very nearly runs straight into his legs. The wolf sits down, ears twitching as he stares at Etho. Etho sticks his tongue out, Doc struggling to keep a hold on the silky fur. "You two aren't helping, you know that?" Ren barks, tail wagging. "Yeah, yeah."

With a wiggle, Etho manages to slip out of Doc's arms. He jumps up, curling around his shoulders instead and getting comfortable. Doc sighs. He bats Etho's shawl out of his face, ignoring the amused chitter. Counting, he finds most of his bags already in his ender chest. Luckily, because the two animals playing around him are making it difficult. Unlike-

"Doc," Bdubs cries, "Have you seen my razor?" Bdubs doesn't even bother with the door. Doc looks down at him on the lawn.

"Have you checked your half?" He asks.

Bdubs throws a hand up, "Of course I've checked my half, but Keralis tried to drag me into packing all his junk so I had to make a speedy escape!" Doc chuckles, watching as Ren jumps down to nose at Bdubs' hand. "Oh, hello, Ren!" Bdubs jumps into baby-talk immediately, crouching down. "Fancy you being here!"

"Please, take him-" Doc waves, "-The two of them keep running through my feet." Bdubs strokes through the fluff of Ren's neck, glancing up and spotting Etho.

"Oh, Etho as well!" Bdubs waves. Etho yips in reply, ear twitching. Then Bdubs pauses, looking at Ren properly. "Ah-ha, Snips! Of course, right-" Bdubs jumps up, "Thanks guys, I'll see you at the town hall!" Doc looks at Ren as Bdubs runs off.

"You going with him?" He asks. Ren's tail wags, staring at Doc. He sighs. "Right, of course not." Doc picks Etho off his shoulder, dropping him on the floor to a surprised squeak. "If only there was a way to attach some bags to the two of you." Both animalmits freeze, sharing a look with each other. Doc can't help but feel satisfied as they scarper towards the nearest nether portal together. "Perfect." He can finish packing in peace.

"Do you think you've got everything?" Wels asks, perched on a chest. Beef hauls his bag out the door with a huff.

"Well, I've got you. That's half the challenge." He looks up in time to see Wels rolling his eyes, pushing his helmet up.

"I take it back, I'm not helping you anymore."

Beef laughs, clapping Wels' arm, "We've still got Three Fox Hole to look through, you're not going anywhere yet." Wels' lips twist into a pout, crossing his arms.

"You know, when I packed early, it wasn't with the intention of doing your packing for you," he replies. But, when Beef holds out a bag, he still takes it.

"And I appreciate it!" Beef grins at him. "Maybe I'll reward you with some of my finest wallpaper-"

"Oh, please no." Wels' eyes are wide, staring in mock horror. "I might never recover."

"Oh, blackmail works too, then." Beef stands, walking past him. Wels slips off the chest, frozen in place.

"Beef- Beef, are you joking?" Beef keeps walking. Wels runs after him. "Beef!"

"Thanks for heading out this far, man," xB says, smiling at Keralis. "I know you've got a big space to cover too."

"Ah, it's nice taking a break," Keralis replies, holding one of xB's bags in his arms. "And I know there's no way this would all fit in your ender chest, princess." xB chuckles, looking at the half-folded clothes, trinkets, and daily essentials all sorted into piles.

"Yeah-" he scrubs the back of his neck. "-I kinda forget I've got so much. Too used to my travel bag." Keralis bounces the one in his arms.

"Well, it's a good job you've got me!" He bumps into xB's side, barely knocking the other hermit off balance. "I can always lend you some extra bags if you need them."

"The luggage dimension is just going to be my stuff at this rate," xB jokes.

"Oh, you haven't seen how much I have yet." They both laugh, Keralis putting the bag down with the rest that have been packed. "Now, what are we doing next?" xB turns to observe his piles.

"I think that one," he decides. Keralis nods, skipping across.

"Then let's go, we don't want to be late!"

"Cub!" Scar's voice calls down the pyramid. "I cannot believe this." Cub turns to see Scar walking along the corridor, wings fluttering in annoyance behind him. "Xisuma says my crystals aren't essential items so I can't take them. That's so unfair." Cub laughs before he can stop himself, getting an affronted noise from Scar. "Cub! I come here, I confide in you-"

"Scar," Cub interrupts, squeezing Scar's arm. Vex magic sparks around them, electrifying the air. "You could make some once we're in the next world."

"It's not the same!" Scar protests. Cub leans closer.

"Or," he whispers, "We could sneak some across ourselves."

"Oh." Scar claps his hands together. "Now you're speaking my language."

"The language of crime?" Cub asks, calling one of his bags over to him. He catches it mid-air.

"The only language I know!"

"This is why you should've made a proper storage system!" Mumbo cries, as Grian pulls out the contents of another chest. "This could've been so much easier!"

"I didn't know it was this bad!" Grian replies, finally managing to find his towels buried in an unmarked chest. He throws them towards his 'to pack' pile, Mumbo jumping out of the way.

"Didn't you have weeks to prepare for this?" He asks, looking at the scattered items in dismay.

"I mean- I did host an entire world in-between," Grian reminds him. Mumbo hums in agreement, deciding to organise some of the piles before they end up vanishing into a pure mess. He looks for similarities amongst the items, beginning to sort them into manageable groups.

Mumbo's lucky he thought to get all his essentials together ahead of time. He gave his luggage to Xisumavoid to store, and he knows it's all taken care of. It didn't stop him from checking his base another ten times, but he's pretty sure he's got everything now. Pretty sure.

He's going to end up checking his base again later, isn't he?

"Grian?" Mumbo asks, pausing as he notices something. The rummaging through chests stops, with only a quiet thud & 'ow' before Grian is looking at him.

"Yeah?" He replies.

"Do you… actually have any bags?"

"Ahhhh," Grian's face turns a similar scarlet to his jumper. "You see, Mumbo, last season, I kinda… borrowed some."

"Borrowed, right." Mumbo sighs, running his fingers through his hair. "Were you ever going to buy your own?"

"Yes!" Grian replies, words fast. "I just. Never had time." Mumbo's had most of his bags since he joined, so he guesses he can't relate. Pretty much all the hermits gifted him one. Otherwise, he would've never remembered at that age, but that's its own problem. It's a good job he remembers the essentials even now.

"So, how do you intend on packing all this?"

Grian hums, "Do you think I could just shove it in there loose?"

"I'll go find some bags," Mumbo decides. And something to help his headache...

"How many cats do you think I could smuggle to the next server?" Cleo asks, holding up another of her kittens to Joe. Joe hums thoughtfully, bright green hair moving on its own accord.

"Well, I've certainly smuggled a few of my dogs inside myself." Cleo takes a deep breath, transferring her kitten to one hand so she can pinch her nose.

"Right, of course you have." She's long learnt to stop questioning how Joe works. She's a living zombie, he's Joe. At least it makes packing easier. "I think I might take some of them to my own world, this time," she muses. "Xisuma can do that, right?"

"I'm sure he can," Joe agrees. "If not, I will have a mass exodus of animals from the server." Cleo sighs, rolling her eyes. She sets the kitten down gently amongst the other cats.

"Right, are you actually going to help me carry my bags?"

"Of course! What kind of friend would I be if I didn't try to stop you losing an arm?"

"Ugh, don't remind me." She still can't believe that happened. First, her arm falling off, then nearly losing it amongst everybody's luggage? So embarrassing. She enters the main room of her base, where she's already got her bags set out. It's surprising how many skincare products you need when you're dead. Joe follows, looking around as if he doesn't know the place like the back of his hands. To be fair, Cleo would be surprised if anybody knew the back of Joe's hands.

"Right, I've shoved as much as I can in my ender chest. If you put what you can in yours, we can divide the remainder up," she lays out the action plan.

"Sounds perfect!" Joe picks up two bags. "Are you sure you don't just want me to transport them over?"

"Keep your true self off my stuff, Joe, you know what happened last time."

Joe sighs, "Fine, fine. We'll do this the human way."

"You'll do this the human way," she amends. "I'll do it the zombie way."

"Stress, it's only a spider," Iskall says, pointing his sword towards it. Said spider is standing triumphantly on top of her bags, red eyes glinting. Stress pokes around the doorway, brown hair falling across her face.

"Yeah, but it's a spider on me stuff!"

"You've fought worse than spiders!"

"Just get rid of it, Iskall!" He sighs. Readying himself for a fight, he crosses across the room, stamping his foot in front of the pile. The spider hisses, sharp fangs a warning. But when the creature jumps, Iskall's sword is there to meet it, throwing the spider to the ground where it disappears into twinkling orbs.

"Look, was that so hard?" Iskall asks, his hand on his hip as he looks back at her. Stress bounces in, grinning.

"It wasn't, was it? Guess I don't need to thank you, then!" Iskall rolls his eyes, slipping his sword back into his inventory.

"Like you don't need to thank me for helping carry your stuff?"

"Oh, I'll thank you for that." Iskall laughs, grabbing the strap of two bags and throwing them over his shoulder.

"How many trips do you think we'll need?" He asks, seeing her haul two up herself. Stress hums, observing the pile.

"Prob'ly only two or three. If we get started soon then we'll get done faster, too." Iskall can hear the teasing tone in her voice.

"Aren't you the one that was scared of a spider?"

"Don't know what you're talkin' about!" She calls, walking past him. Iskall shakes his head, smiling fondly before rushing after her.

"Hey TFC!" False calls, touching down at his base. She smiles at the sight of his usual suitcases, already neatly packed and organized. Everything's labelled in TFC's signature handwriting to boot. Far more planned out than her, she's gotta say. But that's a problem for the next world.

"False, what can I help you with?" TFC's smile is always nice to see. She flicks her elytra closed, waving.

"I came to ask you that, actually," she replies. "Wanted to know if you'd like help carrying things over. I did all my packing a few weeks back, so I'm kinda bored." And if she stays still for too long, X will probably try to rope her into admin duties. Sure, she knows the basics, but she doesn't want to be responsible for anybody's stuff going missing. Not her department.

"Well, I'm never going to turn down some extra hands," TFC replies. He walks over and pats the suitcases on the left. "These are all ready to go, I'm still finishing up with the others. Has Xisuma already started?"

"I think he was just finishing the pocket dimension, so you've still got a little while." The hermits always rush to be the first in, as if everybody's stuff won't fit. In False's opinion, being last is best. It's easier to get your things out when they're closer to the entrance.

"Good, good. Let him know I'm nearly finished, would you?"

False nods, saluting with one hand and picking up a suitcase with the other, "Will do!"

Hypno walks into Jevin's base to find him and Impulse slotting the last few items into boxes. He knows Jevin was mostly packed already, so it's nice Impulse has come to help out. But… Jevin might just be taking advantage of Impulse. Hypno won't think too much into it.

"X has finished setting up," he calls, not needing an introduction. Jevin twists to look at him, Impulse busy trying to fit a label on straight.

"So you're saying I'm late?" Jevin asks. Hypno chuckles, deciding to join them on the floor.

"You know what the rush is like to get stuff in. You'll be fine for a little while." Hypno shrugs, "After Wels, X'll probably be careful." Impulse nods, sitting back now the label of 'hoodies' is attached.

"I've already handed my stuff in," Impulse says, "I think False might have too? We both finished up pretty early."

"Yeah, there was a lot in the town hall ready to be moved." Hypno wonders if the hermits are getting more prepared for this. Somehow, he doubts it.

"So, you've come to help me carry these over?" Jevin asks, Hypno looks at the boxes, shrugging.

"With all three of us, it should only be two trips, right?" There are only five boxes, and two are pretty small anyway.

"That's the spirit!" Impulse calls, grinning. "Do you think you're all ready to go?"

"Yep, I think that's everything," Jevin decides. He pats a box, making more of a squelching sound. Hypno does his best not to laugh.

"Then let's get moving!"

Xisuma sighs as his visor adjusts to filter out the sunlight. Coding that in was a stroke of genius. It used to be such a nightmare to continuously adjust between the pocket dimension and hermitcraft. He looks at the stacked luggage to be moved, trying to figure out if there's more there than before. He swears there is. And they didn't even say hi when they dropped it off! Rude.

He jumps when something nudges the back of his knees, sending him stumbling forward. Turning, he finds Ren, his tail wagging proudly behind him.

"Oh! Hello there." He reaches down, giving Ren a scratch behind the ears. "Are you planning to change back before we move?" Ren barks in reply. "I'll pretend that's yes."

Turning, he sees a white tail flicking over blue diamonds. Of course, those two are together. Etho's curled up in the sun, black eyes watching the pair. One ear is stuck up, the other flopped lazily.

"You two aren't going to help me carry things in, are you?" X asks, sighing as he looks back at Ren.

"I think Ren forgot to leave a spare pair of clothes out, actually," Etho says, legs dangling off the throne. He's tugging his shawl over his nose now he's in human form. Or, as human as Etho gets. "And his outfit may have experienced some... unfortunate circumstances." Xisuma looks at Ren's sad eyes, shaking his head at the pair of them.

"And those didn't involve you in any way?" X asks Etho with what he thinks is an appropriate amount of suspicion in his voice. Etho holds his hands up, leaning back in a way that would have most people falling over.

"Are you accusing me, Xisuma?"

"I don't know, am I, Ren?" Ren gives a concise nod. Etho gasps, clutching over his heart.

"Betrayed by my own brethren!" Etho cries. Ren's tail is wagging, betraying his otherwise neutral expression.

"Come and help me carry things, you," X says, calling Etho over. "We'll be here for another month if you don't." Etho laughs, but jumps off the side of the throne, landing with barely a thud.

"What are we moving, bossman?" Etho asks. Xisuma surveys the piles.

"Mumbo's stuff next, I think," X decides, "He usually takes a while to unpack." Etho nods, following X's lead as they grab a bag and box respectively.

"So this is what you guys do at the end of the season?" Etho asks, Ren trotting along with them. Xisuma hums as he enters the pocket dimension, finding an open space at the back of the room.

"Yep, this is moving day," he explains. "I always try my best to make it easy for the hermits, but it doesn't often end up working." Etho chuckles, placing the bag on top of X's box.

"Seems like most people aren't done yet," Etho agrees.

"They'll get there," Xisuma replies. The hermits always do eventually.

They're just stepping out of the portal when a voice calls, "I'm not late am I?!" X scruffs Ren's neck, smiling at Zed, who's running over with far too many bags thrown over his back.

"Not at all, friend," he reassures him. Zed drops his bags, bent over and panting. Tango strolls up behind him far more leisurely.

"See, Zed, I said you wouldn't be!" Zed whips in his direction.

"Oh, you, mister 'oh Zed you're going to be late, we're all going to leave you behind', you-" Tango laughs, fluffing Zed's hair as he sets his bags down. They take the rest of his luggage out of the ender chest Xisuma left specifically for this purpose. Beef and Wels walk up together as they do, Xisuma waving to them.

"Beefers!" Etho says, grinning.

"Hey Etho, Tango, Zed, Xisuma." Beef pauses, "Oh, and a Ren!"

"Hey guys!" Wels simplifies, dropping his bags at the doors. "This should be everything from us."

"Perfect!" Xisuma nods, "You guys okay to help me carry things through?"

"Yeah, we can help out!" "That's cool with me."

Moving things goes a lot faster with five of them helping to carry things through. Xisuma just catches Impulse, Jevin and Hypno dropping one lot off, getting a frantic wave before the trio is rushing off again. The pocket dimension is quickly filling up with bags and boxes, the hermits a constant line as they drop in and out. Xisuma frequently checks, but it seems like the dimension is handling the pressure okay.

"Xisuma!" Joe calls, him and Cleo wandering up the town hall's stairs. By this point, Cub and Scar have joined them with TFC, False, Stress and Iskall all dropping things off too.

"Good to see you both," X greets, one of Wels' bags hugged in his arms. He turns away, before hesitating, something nagging the back of his mind. After a second of focus- "Joe, why do you have so many hitboxes inside you?"

"Ah, that's nothing you have to worry about, dear admin." Xisuma gives him a long look and decides this isn't a battle he's going to pick.

"As long as you're willing to help out," he says, instead. "We're only waiting for a few people. He takes a look at the gathered hermits. Cleo's now lying on the floor, Ren beside her. His tail is already wagging again. Cub is picking a box up, whilst Scar skips through the portal holding three bags with magic. Etho's chatting to Tango and Zed as they work.

"Of course! We'll be finished in no time." It's already taken most of the day, but X doesn't need to mention that. He sets his vision back to normal, does another check of the pocket dimension, and returns to carrying boxes.

The remaining hermits trickle in as the sun sets. Stress and Beef sort out dinner for everyone, Xisuma making sure the last of the luggage is safe.

"Wait!" A few heads turn at Grian's cry, heavy footsteps rushing up to town hall. "I- I've got my stuff." Xisuma blinks at the sight of the hermit carrying about four bags at once. One is bright pink.

"You're not too late," X reassures him. "You can just drop it in, there should be room." He's settled into a shaded corner, preparing for the process of safely moving over twenty players. And Joe. If he's being honest, the data is starting to give him a headache. But it'll be worth it once they're all in their new world. Their temporary 'in-between' world is already set up. Somewhere for them all to stay whilst he handles the switch over. Most of the hermits take the time to visit friends or do other projects during that, anyway.

"Thanks, X," Grian says, between gasps. He runs into the portal, X laughing softly to himself. Mumbo walks up a few minutes later, glancing at the group.

"Is Grian in there?" He asks. Before X can even reply, about four hermits are giving an affirmative. "Thanks, guys!" Mumbo heads in after, only two bags in tow. X watches, well-aware of the fondness in his chest. It's a good reminder of just what he does this for.

It's another hour until everything's ready. The sun is hanging over the horizon (Xisuma may have frozen the day cycle a while back.) X has watched warily as they've shared food, chatted, played games (including one very dramatic wink murder. He's not sure what happened in Grian's server, and he's not sure he wants to ask.) But now, they've all gathered around, watching as Xisuma enters the final commands.

"Okay, everybody here knows the drill. Stay with somebody else, I want to do a headcount on the other side, then you're all free to wander." He projects his voice, the hermits hushing to listen. "Is everybody ready?"

"Yeah!" "Born ready!" "We've been ready for hours!" "Is there food on the other side?"

X shakes his head. With a final press of the enter key, the portal opens in front of the diamond throne. There's a collective murmur of anticipation.

"Alright, you lot can head through. I'll join you in half an hour, max." He can't even make out words following that. TFC and False are first, walking through with a wave to the others. Stress and Iskall run after them. The rest of the hermits take their time. Some share hugs, some take a last look at the horizon. And Xisuma watches over it all, determined every single one of his hermits will make it safely through.

"X?" Impulse calls. He and Hypno are standing together. The town hall feels so much emptier now the hermits are gone. "You sure you'll be okay?"

"I'll be fine," Xisuma promises. "All standard procedure. I'll see you soon." They nod, sharing a last smile.

"Okay then. Stay safe, X."

"You two as well. Try and keep the others from misbehaving until I get there."

Hypno laughs, "No promises."

And like that, Xisuma's alone. He sighs, sinking back against the diamond throne. The sun casts golden beams over the land. This has been… a good season. They all are, but. Xisuma smiles as he sets the tick speed of the world to zero, freezing it in time. He thinks next season will be something special. It only takes fifteen minutes to finish his commands, the rest he needs to do on the other side.

"Goodbye, old friend." He pats the diamond throne. With a look over the eerily still shopping district, he sighs. It really is the hermits that fill a world with life, isn't it? "To more admin work," he murmurs, before laughing at himself.

"Shishwam?" Xisuma jumps, clutching his chestplate.

"Oh my goodness, you scared me." Keralis giggles. He's waiting in front of the portal, hands in his pockets. "I thought you went through."

"Well..." Keralis starts, "Somebody said we needed to go through the portal with someone else. And then I thought of a certain admin going through alone..." Xisuma laughs, shaking his head. He joins Keralis, swirling colours reflecting off his armour.

"Of course you did." He takes a deep breath. "Well, I'm ready to go." Keralis wraps his arm around Xisuma's shoulders, squeezing him tight.

"You've done a good job this season, Shishwammy. I hope you know that." Xisuma sneaks one last look out the doorway before they leave this world behind.

"Yeah." He smiles. "I think I do."

#hermitcraft #hermitcraft fic #my writing #catch me last minute changing the entire ending #but im easing myself back into writing #and what better than a homage to the changing of seasons?

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duckmumbo · 2 years

Note

i'm glad your enjoying answer all the asks, because i'm enjoying reading them all lol- do you think you could do joe and cleo for the ask game?

Frequently bought together please do not separate thank you <3

Joe

First impression - very qualified dog catcher im a big fan of Jurassic Bark cannot believe he was running against Daffy Duck but honestly I respect him for winning it was very close

Impression now - listen. I follow theminecraftbee. My impression of Joe is essentially that man sure knows a lot of words and he uses them both correctly and incorrectly. He’s not afraid to yell at his chat which I fully respect. Joepacity.

Favorite moment - don’t watch him much so I don’t have a specific moment but it was really funny seeing what he would pay for stuff with in season 7 when he didn’t use diamonds

Idea for a story - more Joe and dog content please. Joe putting on Shakespeare plays with his dogs. Joe just walking around hermitcraft with 25 dogs on leashes in a circle around him. Joe with dogs. Has he even looked at a dog since season 7.

Random opinion - I miss the neon green hair. Joe bring back the neon green hair challenge please I can give you $20 and three (3) pictures of my dog

Favorite relationship - legally I have to say Cleo. They’re just too iconic ok

Favorite headcanon - one time I read a fic and it had a scene where joe was giving Xisuma and mumbo tea and he gave them sweet iced tea and they both reacted with disgust so now I like to think he tries his best to give sweet tea to all the tea drinkers in the server without them realizing their definitions of tea are very different things

Cleo

First impression - armor stands. How the heck. Why is there a short child. Why are the blocks small. Why are they sideways. Help how do you do this. Cool skin.

Impression now - Cleo my beloved. Giant snake head in episode 5 how do you do it. She raided a woodland mansion in episode one. She would absolutely roast me if she saw me but it’s ok I’d deserve it. I want her to teach me armor stands. Cool skin.

Favorite moment - I sadly watch Cleo even less than I watch joe so I do not know many moments. However, I really enjoyed what I saw of her in the soup squad’s episode ones lol

Idea for a story - maybe some kinda backstory as to her drastic skin change. Why she became snake lady. I don’t have many thoughts right now.

Random opinion - you know how joe just up and decided to run for dog catcher in s7. I think Cleo should just up and declare herself president of armor stands. I don’t know what it means, but I think she should do it

Favorite relationship - again, legally I have to say Joe.

Favorite headcanon - Cleo knows how to sew and embroider, and she does it really well. This could be because angsty reasons but honestly it’s probably just because she realized if she learned how to embroider she could stab something over and over and nobody would look at her weirdly :)

#this took. too long. but it’s ok bc I’ve finished it #I am still open to more asks btw in case anyone was wondering I love doing these #im Sorry my answers for this one aren’t as funny as my other ones #but they’re still a little funny and that’s all that matters tbh #answered #ask game #roy talks #hermitcraft #joe #cleo #character asks

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rose-icosahedron · 3 years

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This is my contribution to @petrichormeraki‘s Big Brother au

Madrone shows up between Djali and Ashlin.

When spells are cast, portals are lit, and items are enchanted, they leave behind little threads of magic. these threads eventually build up into tangles, which due to magic's instability will often coalesce into things. One such thing was Madrone.

They were found by Cleo in the middle of the shopping district at night, and she took them home, not wanting to wake up Xisuma with news of an new child, or atleast one whose parents had not publicly admitted to their existence yet.

Cleo did take a swab to analyze the dna and see if it matched any of the hermits, and was surprised to see three unrelated hermits pop up as matches, especially since that it happened to include her(and Xisuma and Grian, but she was honestly most surprising to her). at the time Cleo had wondered if she should even tell Xisuma and grian since they both seemingly had their hands full with their own kids at the moment. however it was necessary to tell Xisuma at least so the child could be whitelisted.

for the first few years Madrone was raised mostly by Cleo, but as Djali started spending more time with doc, that meant Xisuma had more time for Mandrone. Madrone spent the least time with Grian out of all three of their parents, but still spent some time with him.

Mandrone is quite tall, has slightly tan freckled skin, and long hair and eyes that seem to shift colors with the angle of the light. while usually appearing human, they will sometimes appear with distinctly non-human traits that will disappear if you blink or stop looking at them.

they enjoy sushi, toast with honey, words that still mean something if you flip them the other way around, watercolor painting, sewing(they sew their own clothes), solving mysteries and running. Madrone's favorite colors are the color of rose petals, the golden light before the sun sets, and silver.

they have a hard time reading english, doing redstone, and understanding people.

Madrone is inexplicably good at reading galactic and doing magic despite the fact no one ever taught them any of those things.

they don't have much of an affinity for coming up with pranks, but when challenged by one of the other kids proves to be relentless.

(also Madrone has a ridiculous amount of half siblings, but I don't think I needed to say that)

overall Madrone appears almost human, but there's something that's almost uncanny about them that's quite hard to place. (aside from the hair and eyes)

#hermitcraft #hermitcraft au

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papermoonloveslucy · 3 years

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INDOMINATABLE LIFESTYLE

July 16, 1972

HOLLYWOOD - Indomitable funny girl Lucille Ball, with a messy scoop hair the color of an orange popsicle, flashes on the scene in a sad predicament.

She's got a lame leg.

Lucy hobbled from her sleek silver Rolls Royce and into the yellow cubbyhole dressing room which is a sunny retreat near the Lucy set which Is crawling with rehearsal activity.

On the surface, everything's ha-ha-ha. But the fact is that surgeons have inserted pins into the shattered leg bone suffered last year in a Snowmass Peak, Colo., skiing accident. The leg brace is a semi-intolerable ball and chain. But, as always, crippling situations must be mastered. Lucy's inextinguishable spirit pulsates despite the physical handicap.

Lucy Is showing a smiling color photograph of herself in a flowing white hooded cape coat rimmed in fluffy fox. The picture, radiating exterior happiness, doesn't reflect the inner pain. Lucy's leg, in a hip cast, is disguised under a blanket.

You know the familiar Lucy grin? She's grinning it and saying hell no, baby, she's not ever going to ski again. She couldn't stomach another goddam ordeal like that. Besides, on the immediate horizon is an operation to remove the pins.

Lucy, being Lucy, bears the cross with humor: "Honey," she says, "skiing is just getting into those nice winter clothes and being a show off." The burdensome subject of broken bones is dismissed with frivolity.

Brainy Lucy, now 60 and president of a $30 million corporation, is an American institution.

But, like all super-successful females, she vibrates complex contradictions. The fashion plate - who initiated her career as a Hattie Carnegie hat model - is a winsome dumb broad on the tube. In reality she's tough executive who barks orders left and right. Staffers instantly do like the lady says. God has spoken. Lucy runs a tight ship, but she is more respected than feared.

Yet Lucy is softie with a heart of spun sugar. Trappings, which she has in predictable abundance, aren't a psychic crutch.

"Success is knowing that if everything were wiped away tomorrow, it wouldn't really matter. I wouldn't die if I lost my things," she says. Then the awesome simplicity: "Dear, I still go home and let the cat out"

Lucy has always run her home life with a liberal hand.

Desi Arnaz, Jr. is currently Involved in well-publicized liaison with Liza Minnelli. There was a previous Desi scandal regarding Patty Duke. People gossip a lot here because they live in a city where the major industry is make-believe and fact and fiction become blurred.

Lucy isn't deaf to the talk about her son's romances:

"What the hell, they're having a fine spree. I just hope it lasts for Desi and Liza. They don't have time to get married. Their scene is the world and they're swinging in there. I'm the one who talked marriage to them. One night I said: Look, kids, don't get married too soon. They were upset. Desi countered with the observation that you don't have to settle down when you get married. So I go - well, that's true son! The subject of marriage just never came up again. They're a nice couple. They present themselves well without becoming asses. I've told the kids to do as they wish."

Lucy, who was a good friend to Judy Garland, makes no bones about her affection for Liza. And once Lucy loves, the feeling lasts. After 20 years of marriage to Desi Arnaz, there was the divorce. Still Lucy looks people straight in the eyes and says the present Mrs. Desi Arnaz is a "wonderful woman." And she can see it in her heart to rent ex-husband Desi studio space on her lot so that he can work in the shadow of a success they initiated together.

When Liza Minnelli was a child, Lucy kept a scrapbook of Liza's activities at play, in ballet school, attending birthday parties. There, in a battered old photo album, are the precious pictures. Liza didn't know about the book until recently. Desi brought Liza home and Lucy accidentally-on-purpose left the book on a coffee table. "Oh! Wow!" exclaimed Liza through a flow of uncontrollable tears.

Lucy; "And I said to Liza, honey-baby, I told you I've known you for a long time. Didn't you believe me?" Lucille Ball speaks in an affectionate aside about Liza and the loyalty is simultaneously visible and audible:

"That kid is liable to explode any minute. I just hope I'm around to pick up the pieces. No one knows why she works so hard. She's made it her objective to clear her mother financially. Those b--- lawyers took her --- really took her. But she's paying back every damn cent herself."

Life is, of course, an inexplicable mixture of tears and laughter. Buoyant Lucy can see the funnies in everything. Love, she says, is looking beyond someone's minor faults and caring passionately despite the irritations. Lucy's 80-year-old mom, Dede (Desiree Ball) lives near Lucy's sprawling colonial house in Beverly Hills. Dede has a longstanding idiosyncrasy which used to drive Lucy wild but is now an amusement.

In that familiar screechy scratchy soprano voice oozing feigned stupidity, Lucy sing-songs the dialogue;

"I say to Dede: Hey Dede, I've got a pain in my elbow. Dede always says: 'stupid, it's because you're not eating right!" Honest to God, if you've got a pain in your big toe, it's not because someone stepped on it it's the food. Drives you nuts! Dede really has a thing about food. The other day I went home and cooked a batch of chicken. 'Chicken!!" says Dede, 'you know it's gonna make me sick.' Of course Dede eats more chicken than anybody. Next day I say: Dede you been up all night throwin', huh? Naw," says Dede, the chicken wasn't half bad.'"

The ridiculous story illustrates two things Dede taught Lucy early in life. One: That without good health you've got nothing. Two; That without a non-pliant, thoroughly independent attitude, you've got less than nothing because show business kills the weak.

Lucy is in constant awe of Dede. When Lucy built the five-story ski chalet 9,800 feet on the side of a Colorado mountain she was certain Dede couldn't take either the long trip or the altitude. Besides, once you get to Lucy's place, there are a million icy steps to climb before you make the front door. "Even the dogs stop to get their breath," says Lucy. "But when I start huffing, Dede looks over her shoulder and sorta snaps: Aw, Lucy, you're a sissy!' That woman is my challenge."

Does Lucy ever get down? Do the burdens of crushing disappointments halt her enthusiasm even temporarily? "Jesus," she says, "I cry. I cry a lot. Then anger sets in. When I'm angry, I become a fighter. And I always fight to win."

When Lucy talks to you, she taps your knee in a natural gesture of intimacy. Her gaze is through black fringed x-ray eyes that sear through trivia. She smokes her cigarette twirled ceremoniously between her thumb and forefinger. Lucy always spews gut honesty:

"Love is a great peace of mind. There's no panic in the relationship. It's never having to prove yourself. Love is not playing games. Baby, some women have to put up with mysterious absenteeism. That's always a sign of hanky panky-ism. Christ, I never have to worry where Gary is."

Gary is Gary Morton, Lucy's husband and executive producer. Suddenly he bursts into the dressing room and asks for the afternoon off. Lucy's going to work the full day. Her answer is affirmative, but she doesn't use the word "yes"; "Just don't forget to tell the cook to get out the steaks and have a big salad ready."

The show is all in the family. Lucy's sister, Cleo Smith, is another producer. Lucy is having the talk-about twosome of Desi Jr. and Liza written into a script. Little Lucy, who has been Mrs. Phil Vandervort for a year, is a regular. She, too, bursts into the dressing room to use the john. The jeans are already embarrassingly unzipped. As she whizzes by she comments only to her famous mama: "Jeez, I though you were alone!"

But an emergency is an emergency. Lucy, quick to seize the humor, quips: "Our togetherness is only occasionally splintered."

In retrospect, Lucy is pleased with her real-life mother role. "I've been one hell of a mom," she says. "I always knew where they were every minute." Lucille Ball is a profound woman who often uses great simplicities to get her points across.

Once, when the kids were small, a nurse observed to Lucy that Little Lucy was calling Desi Jr., "fatso," and jabbing him in the stomach-when no one was looking. Desi didn't hit back because mama had said never to hit defenseless little girls. Lucy relives the old conversation with her daughter, first announcing each "part" and changing voices to portray the back-and-forth swing of conversation:

Big Lucy: "Got a problem, Little Lucy?"

Little Lucy: "Me? No."

Big Lucy: "Let's talk. Whose fault is it? No, actually it doesn't matter whose fault it is. Next time one of you is hurt, I'm going to hit the one who is hurt."

Little Lucy: "What does that mean, ma?"

Big Lucy: "You'll see."

Soon there was another battle. As usual, Little Lucy elbowed Desi in the stomach and he howled, Lucy illogically whacked Desi hard on the rear and his screams got louder. Little Lucy immediately became hysterical: "Mom, don't hit him! For God's sake, why are you hitting HIM?"

Lucy delivered the punch line which is the credo of their life: "I hit Desi because you let things go too far. Never let things go too far. Someone innocent always suffers. Do you understand?"

That was the end of sibling squabbling. Forever.

Once, before her chorus girl days, New York-born Lucy worked as a fashion mannequin for various Seventh Ave. houses. She's still got a clotheshorse figure but she won't splurge on couture: "I'm just one of those normal working women who doesn't go in for hifalutin’ fashion."

Lucy haunts three fabric shops in Beverly Hills and has local movie set seamstresses make all her clothes. "I'm not the type who dresses and goes out," says Lucy who long ago graduated from the silly-but-necessary movie star game of being seen in the right places.

"Once when I was in Paris, I bought a designer dress grey flannel, I think and wore it out from the salon to my car. When I sat down the damn thing was so strictly constructed that the neckline popped up to my nose. I was on my way to Switzerland and I mumbled to my driver, God, did that designer expect me to stand up on the plane?" Lucy can afford emergencies. When she got to Orly, she bought a dress from an airport boutique and changed in the ladies room.

And, so, the sweet saga of Lucy continues, there are no plans to quit. The word - retirement - isn't in her vocabulary. "I can't imagine doing nothing," she says. "If you don't keep moving, you're buried."

The beauty is still there. The complexion is like alabaster. Lucy confesses that she washes her face with Ivory soap, colors her own hair and occasionally gives herself offbeat facials."

"Honey, the idiot who said to put honey on your face never explained that it has to be mixed with cream," she says. The face melts into that wonderful famous grin. "I put honey on straight from the goddamn jar and it closed my pores for a month."

That's lovable Lucy.

[Ed. Note: The original photographs were degraded by copying so similar shots were substituted as close to the originals as possible.]

# # #

#Lucille Ball #Desi Arnaz #Gary Morton #Wildcat #Dede Ball #Lucie Arnaz #Desi Arnaz Jr.#Liza Minnelli

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aestheticaxolotl · 3 years

Text

Lets Talk About Gunnar Maelstrom

Evil Daddies is where it’s at.

One of the meanings of the word "Maelstrom" is 'A situation of state of confused movement or violent turmoil.

Let me start with Maelstrom, usung the Carmen Sandiego Wiki to break him down as a whole, starting with appearance and personality (Excluding the comments around his action in the show, this will be hard seeing his major inclusion to the story so please bear with me once more as I do this).

Professor Maelstrom is a middle-aged man with pale skin and white hair with a receding hairline. He has broad shoulders and wears a black blazer over a dark gray turtleneck. As stated previously, Maelstrom is seen as being an almost unnaturally pale color, hinting towards possible Albinism.

Now, Middle aged according to the wiki page is between 50 and 60. Seeing the receding hairline and the lines on his face (Also can someone point me to a source about those random chin hairs? Like please I need context).

He obviously has stress and sleep lines. I imagine these are due to his life choices and idiot operatives. His ethnicity is stated as being Swedish but continues to contradict itself when it later states that Maelstrom is from Scandinavia. I think this is to throw the readers and deep show watchers off and it would work better if both ethnicity and race were left as unknown.

Now we move on to the easier things, personality, which is LONG. So let me start writing!

Of the five members of V.I.L.E's faculty, Maelstrom seems to command the most authority and serve as the de facto leader of the group, being the first to speak as well as hand out orders. As one may expect, Professor Maelstrom is criminally insane, which is ironic, considering his forte is psychiatry. Professor Maelstrom often likes to tinker with his patients' psyches and enjoys psychologically evaluating students, much like someone finding joy in pulling the wings off a butterfly. He does possess some level of awareness to his own insanity, though he is quick to brush it off as a mere label that other weak-minded people have given him. He also has an apparent fondness for the more psychotic recruits. In keeping with his name, his main desire is to spread chaos and disorder, with any actual gain being a secondary concern at best. Carmen considered him to be creepy, and rightfully so after he and Dr. Bellum collaborated to wipe Crackle's brain. Professor Maelstrom loathes Cookie Booker as he has no tolerance for her stuck up behavior towards him. He seems to have a fondness for marine life, as his office hosts a giant aquarium filled with jellyfish and other specimens. His use of the term "bait" as a pun is in reference to fishing bait, and in the novel adaptation, it is used twice. Further expanding the psychological exam scene from the show, in the novel, he declares that Carmen gave the "wrong" answer to the Rorschach test, stating that the image was a seahorse. The novelization expanded his sense of humor, though it mentions that even that had a dark and unpredictable tinge to it, showing delight in the lengths that his students would go in order to not be called upon in class. The show does have him throw a small quip every once in a while, often tinged with exasperation at his colleagues' antics or ignorance. He also enjoys making Countess Cleo envious of his fashion style, having asked Le Chevre and El Topo in the "The Fishy Doubloon Caper" to acquire an Ecuadorian Eight Escudos doubloon to be melted into solid gold cufflinks.

As done in my previous post, I will be diving deeper into the statement in the bolded font.

Maelstrom seems to command the most authority and serve as the de facto leader of the group,

I don’t see any major reason for this face besides that there is a level of respect among the Faculty that centers around Maelstrom, seeing as he is one of the psychologically smarter than any of the other members, except Shadowsan but that is a post for another day. He is a very scary character because he is unpredictable, and possibly in the minds of the other, can be blamed for their crimes should they ever had been caught, but this leads me to my second quip with Gunnar Maelstrom.

Professor Maelstrom is criminally insane, which is ironic, considering his forte is psychiatry

When one looks up the term ‘Criminally insane’ we get the following “an accused person that is deemed to be suffering from cognitive illness or fault which frees then of lawful accountability for the unlawful behaviors” from https://psychologydictionary.org/criminally-insane/.

I cannot at all say that I support this terminology on the stance that Maelstrom is more than aware of his action, to the point where he logically makes the choices to leave his fellow faculty behind at the prospect of capture. One cannot say that a “Criminally insane’ person is able to make these choices so quickly and with such calculation as to pack a go bag and hire an escape driver. But I digress.

He does possess some level of awareness to his own insanity, though he is quick to brush it off as a mere label that other weak-minded people have given him.

I don’t think that Maelstrom can stand to be labeled by other people. The exact use of the phrase “Weak-minded’ points me to believe that Maelstrom sees himself as mentally stronger, powerful, and far beyond that of the average person. This points to his class, and I’ll explain this in the next part, being the most critical and important to V.I.L.E as a whole.

His main desire is to spread chaos and disorder

This is WAY too specific to just be a drop in detail. No character is created be be a chaotic mixture, but they are built to SPREAD chaos, and Maelstrom is the perfect character to do this. His favor to Paperstar is a direct jab at this detail about him, she is an element of chaos that he put into play, the disorder of her is why he places her, while the other faculty hate Paperstar, he finds her the perfect wild card.

Professor Maelstrom loathes Cookie Booker

I fully think this is, as the wiki and al of my sources say, Cookie Booker represents the original 1998 Carmen Sandeigo. And the loathing between them is a reference to the original game and books.

He seems to have a fondness for marine life, as his office hosts a giant aquarium filled with jellyfish and other specimens.

Not gonna lie, but I love this detail. The details, that caused me to GO BACK and watch the episodes with Maelstrom, was that the man likes fish. This adds onto the effect that he is rather cold and uncaring towards people, seeing them a thing to observe and keep. I also just love the idea of him having a fish tank and spoiling his goldfish that he named Clyde or something equally related to big time crime, like Al Capone or as said before Clyde.

He also enjoys making Countess Cleo envious of his fashion style

I’m sorry but Cleo and Gunnar challenging each other to see who is better in fashion? I’m sorry but they are the fashion police. Also I think this places WHO he is close to in the Faculty. I am very willing to bet that Maelstrom, who left Coach Brunt to drown and die, would NEVER leave Cleo or Bellum (Possibly) to die because they align more with HIS goals.

Brunt is... Dare I say... THE DUMBEST OF THE V.I.L.E FACULTY

WHAT DOES SHE DO?!?!

WHY IS SHE HERE?!

SHE’S STRONG AND THAT’S IT!

I digress (i used that phrase twice now), I just think his goals line up more with Cleo and (Again, possibly) Bellums’.

Now I go onto my favorite part of these paragraphs, the trivia/abilities. I love trivia/abilities, just because everyone sees this word and they are like ‘oh it’s just dumb facts’. BUT NO! It’s DENSTRAMENTAL to the character and links to their personalities.

He is capable of expertly performing a bait and switch. Professor Maelstrom specializes in psychiatry. He has been shown to have a favorite student, similar to the other faculty, in Paper Star; despite her disregard of the protocol in Mumbai. His grudge against Cookie Booker could be a subtle reference to the hostile relationship that his previous incarnation had with Carmen Sandiego in the 90's cartoon. As shown in the season three episode, The Haunted Bayou Caper, he has a fondness for Halloween.

Most od this is already covered, i know, so I won’t go over what I already did. SO let me just say... I know-

He is capable of expertly performing a bait and switch

I NEED to SEE Maelstrom just- *Pulls and Bait and switch* -STEAL FROM SOMEONE. Like. I could totally believe that Maelstrom is the sleekest, most sneaky, most Swiper is swiping guy in the world. I am okay with letting them tell me this, but NO okay with them not SHOWING ME.

Netflix, I HOPE you see this so you can give me a SHOW on HOW GUNNAR MET MY MOTHER, COUNTESS CLEO.

He has a fondness for Halloween.

Charlie Pants.

Do I need to say any more?

Okay, big ending time. So Gunnar Maelstrom, a deeply interesting character, mysterious backstory that a person can read into, different fun facts that lead to speculation and interest and amazing stories. I love Gunnar Maelstrom’s character, his personality, and his appearance. His effect? 100. His story? 100. His ability to make me rewatch the series? 100.

Thanks for reading this. I’ll have another one out soon! Requests are open

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writing-the-end · 3 years

Text

LoL Chapter 27- Hermits

Masterpost

A Wizard Hermits tale (AU, designs, ideas belongs to @theguardiansofredland)

Its not often the hermits get a chance to all be together. And while they know battles lie ahead of them, they take this moment to enjoy being a family again.

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Etho appears beside TFC, causing the mineral mage to sputter out the coffee he was sipping. “I caught sight of xB a few islands down!”

The hermits murmur with excitement and follow Etho to the shoreline. Sure enough, xB is hauling Hypno and Beef onto the warm sand. Hypno thumps his hand against his head, an attempt to escape his clogged ears which only fails for him. “Can’t we take a sky turtle next time?”

“But it’s more fun to swim!” xB chuckles, and with a flick of his finned ears and his grey tail he runs to hug the hermits. “It’s so good to be back, guys! I can’t remember the last time all of us were on the island together.”

“You guys said something about taking back Lairyon?” Beef raises an eyebrow, looking over at Doc. “This isn’t your rebellious phase coming back, is it?”

“We’ll explain everything on the way. TFC has a lot to tell.” Etho wraps his arms around Hypno and xB, before disappearing into their shared shadow.

The kipling laughs, shaking his head and looking around the island. “Some things never change. I see you haven’t fixed the hole in False’s forge either.”

The hermits laugh, the entire group filled with life as they return to the guild hall. Joe and Cleo regale the missing hermits with the story of their victory at the Chimaera’s Championship. Their battles and challenges in the arena, facing off against the best guilds and winning the cup. They also tell Hypno, xB, and Beef about the heist, the discovery.

“Why am I not surprised?” Hypno hums, tapping his fingers against the wood of the table that he sits down at. TFC pats the boys on the head, grabbing at Beef’s face and tapping his finger on a scar he sees. Beef shrinks away, concerned for a second, but the guildmaster only chuckles in response.

“I can’t wait to hear that story. It’s good to have you guys back.” TFC pats him on the back. “Treat you to a pint of beer next time we go to town.”

“Let’s hear about this big job you’ve got planned for us first.” xB raises an eyebrow. In response, TFC rolls out his map.

The paper has changed since they first decided to go after Dolios and his creepy crystals. If there’s one thing an outlaw guild knows how to do, it’s to find new jobs through the grapevine. “Dolios has these tales silenced. I’ve heard of at least six other guilds being attacked or wiped out by unknown magic. Unfortunately, we’re too late to help them.” Team ZIT glance at one another, but focus on the here and now. “But there are places we can make a difference, as well as get information and better ourselves as a group.”

TFC motions to the Evernight forest. “An old friend of mine said there has been stories of familiars and companion animals going missing. No trace of where they went, except for a few patches of charred grass.”

“Charred, or drained?” Mumbo muses. To anyone, that sounds like the signs of a dragon ravaging Foresta, but after Mumbo’s duel with a draconic mage he knows dragons aren’t that dastardly. Nothing is as dastardly as Dolios.

TFC grins, the newest member and the guildmaster sharing a knowing glint. “There’s also Shellor- which, I believe one of our hermits here knows quite intimately.” Etho gives a two fingered salute, rocking on the back legs of his chair until they fall out from under him, dumping him on the floor. Doc, Beef, and BDubs laugh at him. “There’s a few spies who’ve seen things Dolios has done, but the hard part will be earning their trust.”

“Hmm, yeah. I don’t think I really left Shellor on a good note.” Etho grimaces.

“That’ll be you, Keralis, and Grian’s problem. Meanwhile, we also need some help in the magical beings department. And if there’s one group that has mysterious, arcane magic on lock, it’s-”

“The fae!” Stress slams down her hands, a bright smile on her face. Iskall jolts upright and nearly hits the table again on the way down. “But where will we go? The fjords? The mountains? Heartbreak Trench?”

“The flowerfruit fields. While you’re there, you and BDubs can gather ingredients that we’ve been running low on.” TFC glances at the map, running a finger over the lime green patch on the map. “We do have two confirmed crystal sightings, as well as Gildara. Edenswell seems to be falling ill to dark magic, and there’s reasonable belief that Dolios isn’t getting these massive rocks from nowhere- he’s using gems from the mines.”

Heads peek over one another in an attempt to see the map. The charcoal diamonds and swirls. Gildara still sits untouched, and every hermit looks at one another. Do any of them want to return to the beginning of this all? Even to put an end to the dark magic plaguing the land, the memories of what they saw, what they experienced, still remain.

Except for those that weren’t there. “I don’t think I’d mind checking out this hokey little town you guys keep talking about.” Beef grins, glancing over at Hypno and Wels. “We’ll have that place brimming with flaxen fields and green gardens all over again.”

TFC grins, dipping his head in thanks to the returning hermits. He leans back, looking at the filled guild hall. “It’s been so long since we’ve all been together. If only it were on good terms.”

“It feels good to return home.” xB ruffles his hair with a scaled hand, looking around for a second, then returning to speaking. “Even if it’s just for a short time, we should enjoy everyone being together again.”

“What I’m hearing is we need to have our signature hermit celebrations.” Tango’s face splits into a devious smile. All around him, other hermits get a similar smirk on their face. Before TFC can agree to the idea, the hermits are gone. Cleo rushes to her wrecked pirate ship, hefting kegs of ale with the aid of Stress. Wels commandeers False’s forge to begin baking his favorite sweets, while Mumbo, Grian, and Iskall work together to fix the pennants, lanterns, and flags that decorate the guild hall in a myriad of colors.

Tango snaps his fingers, and a small flame dances at his fingertips, jumping from his nails to the wicks of the lanterns. He ducks out of the way just in time to avoid being smacked in the face by a massive fish, tossed from the sea by xB and grabbed by Grian midair. The whirlpool mage disappears back underwater, back to hunting in the realm he was born in.

The sun begins to inch towards the western horizon, turning the sky ablaze in a mosaic of pinks, oranges, yellows, and reds. A blue flag flutters against the ancient oak tree, catching on a branch. BDubs reaches out from his seat near the food platters, hardly even glancing away from the fresh baked goods, and with a flick of his wrist the branch bends away and the flag flies free again.

False appears beside Wels, grabbing a brownie from the hot pan and sticking her tongue out at him as she passes. When Wels objects she’s quick to retort. “You used my forge. It’s rental payment, paladin.”

Beef sets out plates, which are promptly ignored once Impulse and Zedaph have finished cooking the tuna xB caught. Music swells from a music box the creation of Ren, with the help of Mumbo, the upbeat songs written and composed with Joe and requests from the other hermits for their favorite tunes.

The music thrums against the low roar of talking, the sound only broken by the common lilt of laughter. Hermits tell their stories, whether they be heard for the thousandth time or a new tale to tell. Beef causes Hypno to flush as he recounts the prank he pulled on the dream mage. Hypno turns bright red, quiet voice cracking over the tale. “I smelled like centaur shit for a week! It was awful, I’ll tell you that.”

A raucous laugh erupts from that table, overshadowing the story of Mumbo’s duel to xB. “I swear on my life, I thought she was gonna swallow me whole. Or burn me like coal.” Mumbo shakes his head. “I don’t think I ever want to go up against a draconic mage ever again in my life.”

“I’m surprised a kipling, a draconic mage, and a desert wizard were one team. That’s a strange group. I don’t think I’ve even met each of the others.” xB takes a bite of his fish, marinated in fresh fruits that Cub plucked from nearby islands. “But I’m sure that kipling gave you guys a run for your money. That magic she had… it’s rare beyond imagination. In kipling legend, it means a legendary hero is about to arise.”

“He definitely kicked Ren’s ass. I don’t think I ever saw so much water moved at once.” Mumbo shakes his head, and stuffs a red jelly tart into his mouth.

Keralis stands, tossing his woven hat from the brown curls of his hair, and inviting himself onto the open floor. “I love this song! Come on, my wonderful friends, let’s dance!”

The setting sun casts a golden glow, bouncing off verdant leaves, twisting along the waves of the Ashioll sea. Laughter and music dance in the gilded light, playing in the curls of Zedaph’s hair as he joins Keralis. The two bumble around, drunk from Cleo’s ale but enjoying themselves immensely.

Only one hermit wasn’t taking part in the festivities. Atop the canopy that protects the guild hall below, Xisuma watches as the stars appear in the sky. For a few moments in the day, the void and the sun share the space above. And he always thinks of the one person he knows he should forget by now. But he would’ve loved this, even if he’s constantly worrying about being caught doing something wrong.

“Hey X, you gonna mope up there all day or join us?” Jevin grins below, one hand placed on his hip and the other waving Xisuma down. “Just because you’re a void mage doesn’t mean you have to a-void everything!”

Xisuma rolls his eyes, but smiles beneath his mask. “After that terrible pun, how can I say no?”

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goldenreign · 3 years

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@starlcved said : 🔪 from theon // send 🔪 to hold a knife to cleo’s throat.

it’s her own stubborn attitude that’s gotten her into this, in INSISTING that she doesn’t need a guard at all hours of the day --- that she can defend herself just fine. when he’d challenged her on it, she hadn’t been capable of saying NO. she’s joined him in their home gym this morning ( really, it’s a crime how early he’s capable of waking up ) hair pulled back into a long ponytail, with arguably her cutest set of matching leggings and sports bra. it might be a little mean to test his self-control with her outfit, but that’s quickly become one of her favorite pastimes with him. although it irritates her that he’s meant to follow her around all the time, she’s come to relish the way she’s noticed him looking at her sometimes. she’d almost call him out for checking her out, but he’s too... theon for it to really be checking her out. she’s not even sure he’d know what that meant if she did jokingly accuse him.

she’s the one who insists on having a knife, naively believing it might give her some advantage, despite having no clue how to hold it properly. he is, shockingly, willing to entertain her demands this morning. she takes him up on the invitation to make the first move, but he catches her arm before she can fully swing it, and snares her other wrist as well, shoving hard enough that she stumbles backwards several steps into the wall. the blade is then somehow out of her hand and into his, faster than she can process, and the edge of the knife presses against the hollow of her throat. her heart is beating wildly, but she finds she doesn’t quite mind the position she’s landed herself in. a smile spreads across her lips as she relaxes back against the wall. “ okay, so maybe i can’t defend myself, ” she admits, her hand that had previously been holding the knife raising to his waist, fingers trailing there lightly, “ but i guess that’s why i have you, right? ”

#starlcved #sharp object tw #&. HER FIGHT WAS NOT OVER YET ( ic interaction. )#&. WITHIN THE MOST PERFECT CHAMPION THERE IS ALSO DARKNESS ( mini para. )#&. FINE. I’LL COOPERATE. BUT I MIGHT NOT BE NICE ABOUT IT ( answered ask. )#&. I'LL JUST RUN AWAY AGAIN. WITH YOU ( cleon. )

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queen-rogah · 4 years

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Heartbreak Weather (part 2)

Roger Taylor x Reader

Series Summary: It's the story about the unexpected love between you and Roger Taylor that had lasted through thick and thin, through the challenges and darkness as you both find a way to prove that love is unbreakable...

In this part: The night in the club goes on with you spending your time with Roger. You really want to avoid your feelings to him but it seems like it does not go away—same goes to Roger too.

Warnings: language, lots of fluff, angst, a lot of alcohol consumings, mild smut (not that graphic)

Word Count: 7.7k+ words

Note: more grammar and spelling errors. more time jumps and fast-forwarded scenes. prepare for a sappy roger/cute reader in this part

HEARTBREAK WEATHER MASTERLIST | QUEENROGAH’S MASTERLIST

PART TWO: "BLACK AND WHITE"

"Finally, you're flirting with me." The drummer chuckles.

You blushed in his words as you let out a chuckle too, "I don't think I'm flirting with you Roger." You denied his words.

"What a shame because I wish you had been."

Your heart skipped a beat when he said that to you, with his ocean eyes staring right at you—Roger fucking Taylor, a famous drummer, a lady-magnet and a good-looking bloke enjoys that you're flirting with him, without even noticing that you're flirting. The way he said that was almost made you want to kiss him, but you're only a woman that is intoxicated with different types of drinks and alcohol is already running in your system.

Roger in the other hand waits for your reaction, and your reaction?

You just laughed. Again. Like a fucking maniac.

"I–I..uh..." You soon gulped and put your glass down on the counter, "Roger, I have a question..." You dodged the awkward situation as he hums, letting you tell him your question.

You saw his body moved closer to you and you feel something weird in your body, all because of just his aura.

"I know I saw you back there with two good-looking girls in your place and...I don't want to sound rude here but, are you just here talking to me—flirting maybe just to make me be like those girls? Do you want me under your spell or a one night stand thing because Roger...I am not that kind of a woman. I may be dressed like this, but that's not what I'm planning to do tonight. Or—"

"—I'm not that kind of a man Y/N. I'm not a man that meets up with a girl, sleep with them and just forget all about it in the morning. I really am not, but I respect on what you just said because I guess that's just the only thing you may think of when the name Roger Taylor pops into your head." He responds, sarcasm filled his voice after he said that.

You didn't know this turned out to be...personal.

And you think you just broke Roger Taylor's heart right there.

You absolutely regret on asking him that question in the first place, but your thoughts is that you're just making sure about everything because you really don't want to ruin a night like this in your life. You don't want to give all of you to a man you just met.

"I–I didn't mean to put it that way, I–I'm just making sure." You stammered as you apologize to him.

Roger just nods his head at you, knowing that he's not listening—just your words going through his ear and out in the other ear.

Roger thought you're different.

And all that he's been thinking about is to go back to those two girls in their booth.

"It's nice meeting you Y/N." He finally dismissed himself from you—to clearly avoid any drama as you watch him walk away like nothing had happened. You let out a huge breath when he just ditched you here, but you did get to the point that you're already offending him earlier, so you think it's your fault that he felt bad about himself. You called on the bartender again as you ordered a shot. You never drink too much in your whole life and you think this is the night wherein you'll get shitfaced—like Eleanor said to you earlier.

Speaking of Eleanor, you haven't found her since the time you saw her with that guy. Kelsey too had disappeared in the crowd and Cleo, she's still with John—clearly flirting with him back there.

The bartender came back with your drink as you stare at the alcohol right in front of you, "I guess it's just you and me again." You muttered and drank it all in one sip, then you ordered a second one again, a third one, a fourth one until you didn't count how many shots you've ordered.

When you're drinking all of those shots you've ordered, Roger is walking towards the booth to find the girls already gone, so he didn't get back there, instead he went back to the bar but he's in a far away distance from you, not seeing on what you're actually doing in your life right now. He didn't notice you pushing your way to the dancing people and started dancing with them too. You managed to find Kelsey with two men groping her while they dance as you also dance with them. One guy had his hands around your hips, your back pressed on his chest—dangerously close to him.

Roger wasn't intoxicated, he doesn't feel drunk after all those shots since it's been two hours since those round of shots occurred and the alcohol just faded out. He just had to leave the bar when he suddenly found someone entered the club that he recognizes, they are with their group of friends, wearing those skin tight dresses and revealing clothes to attract men.

Reese.

After that breakup and confession that she's been cheating on him for 5 months, she also planned to go here, with a couple of friends. Just like Roger had also planned after his mini tantrum onstage earlier. And he's still not ready to face her after the words he said to her, but he also wants to face her and say the other things he wants to say.

The words that is better left unsaid.

When her group is closely approaching to where Roger is, he suddenly decided to turn away and never face her, like ever again as he left the bar, walking back to their booth—but only to bump someone on his way there, he looked at the person to suddenly see you, looking completely wasted and your hair is sticking on your face because of your sweat that built up because of those body heat in the dancefloor.

"Roger—" You stopped and suddenly felt the bile slowly rising up to your throat. You cover your mouth as you pushed the drummer away, stumbling towards the restrooms. Roger, who's concerned if anything would happen to you, followed you.

Then he saw you going for the men's restroom, that's why he grabbed your hips and guide you to the ladies, "How many drinks have you consumed?." Roger whispered to you, you just ignored him and entered the restroom to let it all out.

Roger waited for you to finish up, his back leaning on the wall across the ladies' restroom.

After a couple of minutes, you are still inside the restrooms, sitting on the floor of one of the cubicles inside. You flushed the toilet two times and regret every ounce of alcohol you've consumed tonight, thinking that it's already in the middle of the night and you have work by Monday. You slowly stood up from the floor, trying to stand up properly this time. You left the cubicle and look at yourself in the mirror, the makeup you've put on is now fading away, so you just put on your strawberry lip gloss on and fix your hair. You stayed inside the restroom for a moment—not knowing that Roger is waiting for you outside.

Roger, who's looking at his watch a couple of times—not caring that it's already 1 in the morning, is still waiting for you to come out. He's already sober and not planning on drinking more again.

"Roger?."

Roger turn to his left to see her again, wearing a flowy kimono top, his eyes grew soft as he remember the words he said to her in that phone call.

"Reese..." He sighs, eyes softening.

"So you're drinking again? I thought you changed already—"

"—change? After that phone call earlier? After you fucking broke my heart through the phone? You're completely unbelievable Reese." Roger disputes, facing away from her.

Reese regrets that she followed him back here since she saw him—his hands holding you earlier. That left her curious about her own ex-boyfriend.

"Roger, always remember that breaking up with you doesn't mean that you will just go back to do the habits that I hate so much. I just want you stay the way you were when we got together." Reese tries to calm the drummer down as he shrugs her off.

"Why are you always pinning everything to me and my mistakes? Well look who fucking cheated in the relationship." Roger defends himself.

"Roger, I—"

"You don't know how you broke me so much when you said you found somebody else and it—" Roger trailed off, "—it made me think of the things that aren't good enough for you to love me."

Reese never see him so vulnerable. The one that he loves so much turns out to be the one who hurts him so much.

"Rog—"

The conversation stopped when you stepped outside the restroom, alcohol still running in your veins but manage to take care of yourself.

"Roger, are you–are you waiting on me?." You asked the drummer. He didn't say anything, he just approaches you, took your hand and left the hallway—leaving Reese all alone and dumbfounded.

Roger leads you back to their booth wherein they are still talking to each other and meeting more people, then watch him walk away from the booth.

You took your fur coat that is laying on the couch beside Cleo, "Where's Eleanor? She needs to drive us home, it's so late." You slap her forearm to get her attention to you.

"Oh, I think Eleanor already left with that guy earlier." Cleo slurred and your eyes widened.

You cursed under your breath, "Then who will drive us back? It's already 1 in the morning." You argued.

"Still early." Cleo replied to you and continue chatting with John and the others. You gave up and put on the fur coat and took your bag.

"Then I'm going alone." You stomp your way towards the exit to see multiple people still coming inside this club. You look around the street to see no cabs—just their own fucking cars. You think of something of how you can go home.

Hitchhike can be dangerous. Waiting for some cabs will never give you hope. Walking is the only way, but it'll take you hours to get back to your flat.

"Walking it is." You groaned, started to take off your heels. You suddenly stopped when the people in line became loud and see Roger walking out of the club with a man who protects him from the raging fans. You watch them making their way to a car parked by the street. Seeing him already hopping inside the car.

And you know just what to do.

"Roger! Roger it's Y/N!." You shout at the far distance and start to walk towards them, but only to be blocked by the man with him. "Wait—"

"Roger's off limits." He said to you and you scoffed.

"Excuse me please, he knows me! Roger, hey!." You wave your hand at the closed window. And then for a couple of seconds of you getting his attention, the windows rolled down with Roger looking right at you.

"What are you doing Y/N? Why aren't you with your friends inside?." Roger asked. You glared at the man, giving him the proof that Roger Taylor really knows you as he loosen his grip on you—letting you stand close to the car. Close to him.

"I–I need a ride home, my friends are already screwed up and shitfaced with alcohol or whatever it is. My friend who has a ride ditched us so, I really need to get home. I'm just by Waterloo Road, you can drop me by the park." You pleaded, watching him think of his answer.

"Alright, get in. We'll drive you home." Roger said and a smile appeared on your lips as he opened the door, letting you in the car. Sighing deeply as you finally will go home. Safe and sound in your home.

The car drives away from the street as you lay your head on the window, watching the streets and it's lights. This night out is truly one of the tiring and stressful—but it's damn memorable. Roger is also silent and looking out on the window by his side too.

You look over to him, feeling like he's not a celebrity but instead just a normal person. Tired, stressed and damaged—all because of the consecutive days of performing and touring from all over the globe. Hands calloused, muscles tight and uncomfortable for the drumming. You can't imagine how much pain he's going through—but probably you know every all of that is worth it to him.

And it left you wondering—who was the girl he's talking to when you stepped out of the restrooms?

"Roger?." You speak in the silence as he look at you, those tired eyes looking right at you.

"Hm?." He hums.

"I've been meaning to ask you. Who was the girl you've been talking to when I finished...you know...throwing up in the restroom." You asked him and you heard him sigh deeply, then you felt him being uncomfortable in that question, "Uh...forget about it, you don't need to answer it—"

"—she's my ex-girlfriend and uh...we just broke up through the phone earlier...before I performed in front of thousands." Roger cuts you off and answered your question.

You gape at him and let his words play along in your head again. That girl, was his ex that broke up with him through the phone.

"I mean...that's an impractical thing to do—breaking up with somebody through the phone." You commented.

"Psh—I know right. She found someone else and get in a secret relationship with that man behind my back for the last 5 months." Roger replied.

"That's fucking terrible." You reacted, then start to wonder again, "But why are you still talking to her earlier? Aren't you feeling a bit off with her with what happened?." You asked.

"I am a bit off of her but...the break-up is just so fresh and...you know, she's my first love. We shared years together, she moved in with me too but it turns out it's just a one big sham." Roger answered.

You didn't asked anything else to him anymore as you felt that he finally let it out. The burden, the pain, the heartbreak.

You took an intake of breath before you suddenly lay your hand on top of his. He reacted on your touch as he looked back at you, seeing his surprised face. Instead of what you thought he would do, his hand that's under your's slides off and took yours too, letting your fingers fully intertwined with his own. You can't stop staring at your hands together and just gave him a small smile, letting it be.

It's nice. The silence. And hands tied together.

...

The car finally reached the park. The hand holding also turned into something different—it's now your head laying on his shoulder when you took a small nap while on the road earlier. You woke up just before the car would arrive and now you're finally here, only a few steps away from your flat. Before leaving the car, you faced Roger.

"First of all, you're the celebrity I've ever met in person..." You chuckled.

"Oh really?." Roger raises his brows at you as you nod your head.

"Well, I nearly met Mick Jagger but there's just a lot of girls before wants to meet him and me and my friends gave up on it," You said, "And um, Roger?."

"Yeah?."

"Do you...want to come inside? Give you food and maybe painkillers for the hangover...as a way of my thank you for the help and the ride home." You shyly asked the drummer.

Roger was astonished on your offer, but the time breaks everything off. He really wants to come with you.

"I love to but it's so late Y/N, and I am on tour. I'm a busy man, perhaps, I can walk you there. I can't stand seeing you walk alone in this street." Roger said as he is now taking off his seatbelt.

"Roger, you don't have to—"

"—but I want to." Roger cuts you off.

You know you can't argue with him, "Okay." You gave him a small smile and took your seatbelts off too. You both left the car then started walking together towards your flat that is only meters away from the park where the car stopped.

You have your arms crossed in front of your chest, warming them in your fur coat. Roger has his hands stuffed in his pockets.

There's a distance between you two while walking there. Silence. Only hearing the barking dogs nearby—and crickets too.

"You know what," Roger suddenly spoke first amidst the silence, "I actually called this night the worst night of my life because our show earlier is bullshit, my long-term girlfriend broke up with me then I met her again and I broke my drumset—almost hitting Freddie onstage. But—"

You furrowed your brows when he stopped talking, "—but?."

"I don't know..." He trails off.

You finally stopped in front of your flat, Roger looking around the place and then right back at you.

"Well, are you sure you don't want painkillers?." You asked again.

Roger chuckles, "I'm fine Y/N, and you should be the one who needs to drink the painkillers. I saw what alcohol did to you." He smirks.

"Ugh, I'm horrible when I'm drunk." You replied, regretting that you consumed a lot of drinks tonight.

"So don't drink a lot next time. You seriously need a full-time nanny to take care of you when you're drunk." Roger again teases you.

"Oh fuck off." You laughed, "So this is goodbye, Roger Taylor."

"Don't say goodbye to me like you'll never going to see me again. We'll meet again soon, I promise that. You're–you're something to me Y/N." Roger said. You can literally feel your heart thumping loudly in your chest.

"Well then it's not goodbye Roger. I'll see you soon." You softly smiled at him before taking steps closer to him and plant a soft kiss on his cheek. The drummer was frozen shock when you showed that affectionate side of yours as he just watch you lean away and step inside your flat—making sure to wave goodbye before closing the door behind you.

You really are something to him.

...

NOVEMBER 27, 1974 — OLYMPEN: LUND, SWEDEN

Ever since that night, Roger wasn't over you.

You're in his mind all the time. Even though he met several girls on tour—slept with the others, but his mind was still glued to that moment you plant that kiss on his cheek. He was never been so sappy his whole life ever since him and Reese are sti together. Now those feelings he felt towards Reese before—he felt that again when he's with you.

And he loved that. Every bit of that.

And now that they've left the UK again, Roger knows that it's going to be a long time that he'll meet you back there. His body is focused on drumming and performing their music in front of the people who adore them, but his mind was clearly all about you. Not with the groupies who always comes with them on tour and tries to entertain the drummer.

"Earth to Roger Taylor!."

Roger snapped out of his thoughts when he heard Brian's voice echoed through this empty venue that'll soon be filled with loud and excited people that loved their music. They all heard most of the people in Sweden today are loving their works and Freddie—also the other boys don't want their performance a load of bollocks again. They want it to be perfect.

"Sorry—just thinking of somethin'." Roger muttered and gripped his drumsticks again as he steps on the bass—playing the queue.

But Brian suddenly interfere, interrupting the sound check, "It's so weird that you are so suddenly quiet and always thinking things. What's gotten into you lately after that night in the club back in London? What is uh, Cleo's friend—"

"—It's Y/N." Roger corrects him.

"Oh yeah, Y/N, that's her name." Brian said. Roger has his brows furrowed in confusion at the guitarist right now.

"And what about her?." Roger asked him.

Brian stood on the drum risers as he stared at him for a few good seconds—like he's reading his mind through staring in his eyes, "You're in love with her." He smirks.

Deacy lets out a snorted laugh and Freddie was shocked. Had his mouth agape.

"W–what? No! I–I am not in love with her—"

"—okay cut off the teases and let's just finish this sound check. Get off the drum risers Brian." Freddie stopped Brian's tease as Roger glared at the guitarist, who's clearly having fun bugging Roger—a clever liar.

"Yeah, get off the bloody risers and play your part. Come on let's start over." Roger said then played the tune of the music again.

Freddie sang the lyrics.

Brian and John joins in again with their electric and bass guitar.

Roger perfectly played his part—not zoning out anymore.

By the time the soundcheck ended, they all got inside the dressing room. There's still two hours before the show and to spend the time—Freddie sets up the scrabble that he always brought on tour so that he'll play with the others.

Of course, Freddie always wins.

Brian and Roger is always pissed off. John was just amused on their reactions while playing the game and Freddie beating the shit out of them.

"Brian! You promised we will have that rematch." Freddie teases Brian as he sighs, soon sitting down with him—picking his letters.

Instead of Brian's usual frowning face in seeing his letters, he's wearing a smirk—feeling that he might win this one.

Roger didn't joined the game. He found himself his own distraction-the blonde groupie that's been following the band since day 1 of the tour. He found himself a cigarette, now sitting on a chair where the girl is sitting behind his chair with her arms wrapped around his shoulder, her head resting on his neck.

He's just thinking about you earlier and now he have himself wrapped around the arms of this girl.

He really don't know what to do with his love-life anymore after that break-up. Tabloids have already known the break-up where it is shown in every celebrity page of a magazine or newspaper. It's always been Roger and Reese's face on that page, flashing to every reader that they got into separate ways.

He also saw Reese pictures with her new boyfriend. Hand in hand while walking around London.

Roger was still jealous. He still have that heartbreak inside of him.

"Want to have fun before you guys go onstage?." The blonde groupie—not sure if her name was Corinna or Karen but close enough, whispered in the drummer's ear.

Roger didn't said anything, he just stood up from his chair, holding the groupie's hand and led her inside the bathroom—locking it afterwards to prevent disturbance. He cups her face then kissed her hard, also pushing her back until her back was pinned on the tilted wall of the bathroom. He felt her hands reached down his crotch, soon groped his bulge while he's making out with her. Teeth clashing together in that heated kiss.

She soon slowly got down on her knees, facing his crotch as she unbuttoned his jeans and pulled his fly down and finally pulled his jeans down, wrapping her hands around him—giving it a few pumps.

"You like that?." She moans out her words, her hand still doing all the work.

Roger had his eyes closed—but all that is in his mind is you.

And that's where he lost it.

"—I'm sorry...I'm–I'm suddenly not in the mood." Roger mutters as he stops the girl, putting on his jeans again and looking at himself in the mirror. Clearly asking himself why did he just thought of you while this chick will almost give him a blow job.

"W–what? Roger?—" She stammered but he was now out of the door, walking back inside the dressing room where the boys are already getting ready.

Roger showed them a restrained smile, "How's the game?." He asked Brian as he reaches out to John's cigarette box, lighting up the cigarette resting between his lips.

"For the first time in history, I had beaten the shit out of Freddie in scrabble." Brian laughed at the lead singer—Freddie still giving him an annoyed look.

"Not that he won over Freddie tonight, he also beaten Freddie's highscore." John said. Brian was beyond proud of himself.

"What's the high score now?." Roger asked.

"One—fucking—sixty-eight hundred points in just a single word." Brian boasts with that wide smile. Freddie is still annoyed that someone finally beats him in the game.

"What's the word again?." John asks the guitarist.

"Lacquers. With a Q on the triple, all seven letters, triple word." Brian answered the bassist.

"Enough with the bragging, we got a show in 30 minutes. Let's all get ourselves ready and Roger..." Freddie stood up from his chair and start to look for his stage clothes.

"Yeah?." Roger replied.

"...your fly is undone." Freddie smirks at the drummer then left the room.

"Fuck." Roger groaned and zip himself up.

...

DECEMBER 8, 1974 — LONDON, ENGLAND

"Thank you." You thanked the vendor as she handed you the bag full of the clementine that you bought.

Christmas will be three weeks from now. People have been in and out of the markets to buy some Christmas gifts, and some are buying foods for the holiday—just like you. Avoiding the Christmas rush soon.

Your parents cancelled their visit to your place since they have this Christmas and New Year's party with the other neighborhood back home, completely leaving you all alone in the holidays. They will just visit just after the New Year's Day.

No parents in the holidays this year. So your plan this holidays is to eat your favorite dishes and get drunk while dancing to Elton John.

That sounds perfect.

You walk around the marketplace, looking and buying for more foods to cook and a wine to drink for Christmas. Then something catches your eyes, it's the newspaper where you saw the huge Queen plastered on the first page. You approached the booth where the newspapers are and took it, reading the headline that it's Queen selling out more venues around the world.

The new rock royalties dominating the world—yes, you heard them! It's Queen!

The photograph was Freddie singing out in the crowd, Brian on his left playing his guitar, John on his right playing the bass and on the drum risers is Roger who have his arms up while holding the drumsticks.

A small smile appeared on your lips, remembering your small time with the drummer that one late drunken night.

And then your eyes trained over the side of the paper, reading that it's about Roger along with a paparazzi picture of him and a beautiful lady trailing behind him as they leave the band's after party in Hamburg. He's holding her hand—guiding her out of the paparazzis.

Then you just imagined yourself being with him like that wherein cameras are flashing around. Being a couple, hands intertwined and both wearing fur coats.

You sighed and just put the newspaper back on it's shelf and carry on walking around. That night was three weeks ago—but felt like it's just yesterday.

You returned to your place, putting the bags filled with what you'll cook for Christmas on the small dining table in the kitchen. You took the phone and decided to call on Cleo.

"Hello?." Cleo answered on the second ring.

"Can you come over? I need someone to share the wine with." You replied, fingers looping around the phone cord.

"Nobody's stopping me for a free wine. Be there in 5." Cleo chuckles in the other line and hang up.

While waiting for Cleo, you took the wine that you just bought together with two glasses. You also played some music. The soft tune of the song filled the room.

"Blue jean baby, L.A. lady, seamstress for the band. Pretty eyed, pirate smile, you'll marry a music man..." You sang along while you open the wine and poured it on each glasses.

Just in time for the doorbell to ring.

You open the door to see Cleo before you-inviting her in. She take her jacket off and look around your place. Your tiny flat that you've been living for almost three years now.

"Free wine and Elton John playing," Cleo said and looked back at you, "You're going through something aren't you?."

You sighed, looking back on the newspaper where the picture of Roger and that girl with him then suddenly went all the way back when he driven you home. And your cheek kiss.

"It's nothing, it's just all about the thing I've said to you about Roger that one time." You said, now sitting on the couch with her while drinking the wine.

"I still can't believe you kissed Roger Taylor's cheek. Many girls are trying so damn hard to be on your place." Cleo smirks.

"It's hard to forget him because he promised me that night won't be our last night and soon to meet him again." You replied.

Cleo stopped drinking her wine, "Wait, you didn't told me that part though." She said.

"Oh, I didn't?." You asked. Cleo nods her head to you. "Then now you know. Roger promised he'll see me again and I can't believe I'm holding on to that even though it's been three weeks since that night and there are already pictures of him with a girl."

"Roger Taylor is a rockstar and rockstars meet a lot of women. He can't avoid a little distraction while on the road, especially for those groupies." Cleo said.

And that left you thinking how Roger was doing while on the road together with those groupies.

...

DECEMBER 13, 1974 — PALAU DELS ESPORTS: BARCELONA, SPAIN

Roger arrived late in the venue with a hangover because last night's happenings. When the time they landed in Barcelona, Freddie already planned on throwing a party for the last day of European tour. So, he rented a whole pub for them to invite all the people they know.

The management team. Some lucky fans. Roadies. Groupies.

A lot of alcohol was consumed by everyone in the room. A lot of people also dancing together—skin to skin, a lot of touches and sexual tensions.

They're all making the best out of it. It's the last show of the European tour, then everyone will be on their way home again to celebrate the holidays with friends and families.

Roger spent his time last night with a lot of alcohol and dancing. He soon found himself a girl to spend his night with. That's why he woke up late with a naked girl on the right side of his bed in his hotel room.

And that led him here arriving late in the venue where their last European leg show will happen. He was soon greeted by the others where the roadies are setting up the instruments for the soundcheck. Roger heard Brian playing the intro of Now I'm Here while Freddie is singing the song without the microphone. John was sitting on the stage while playing the bass.

"Thank god he's here." Freddie exhales as he smirks at him, "Rough night?."

Roger took his sunglasses off as he looked at Freddie, "Well it is your fault you threw that party in that club." He said, blaming him.

"You're welcome." Freddie said in sarcasm before turning his heel away from him and towards the stage again.

Roger chuckled and made his way towards the drum risers, playing his part even though he have this massive headache. Brian was also hangover and heard the wrong chords throughout the song.

And the song suddenly have that slow tempo unlike the original tempo of it.

Well, throwing that party would be one hell of a problem today.

Roger was getting pissed—hence the headache.

Freddie also heard the flaw.

"Brian! You're slowing down, we can't slow down!." Roger already argues. Completely stopping playing the drums.

Freddie and John looked at each other, but Freddie tried to break the tight tension.

"Alright, break off—let's have take two." Freddie laughs, trying to lift up the mood.

"I'm trying to slow it a little down—" Brian said, now facing the drummer.

"Well, it doesn't need slowing down. It's—god—it's creeping at the moment!." Roger disagrees.

"Alright, try—" Freddie was cut off, again.

"—God, it was so slow! And it's getting even slower. You always try to play this like I've never—"

"Come on, take two!." Freddie shouts, trying to silenced the hot-headed drummer.

Roger closed his eyes as he massaged his temples, trying to regain his composure, "Alright then, I'll follow you!." Roger said then look away from Brian.

Brian soon mocks him by making crying noises, but Roger didn't hear that.

"Done?," Freddie stare at the both of them as he finally received their silence, "Alright then, let's have take two."

...

"Oi! They're cheating!." Harold shouts as he pointed at Sheila's team while they are arranging the plastic cups pyramid on the table. He saw one of their teams still arranged the cups even though they already passed on to the other station. Completely breaking the rule of following the timer of arranging the pyramid.

It's the Six Stations—a popular team building game in this accounting firm.

A Christmas party is happening right now and you're just standing by the wall, watching them have fun and constantly cheat on the games. They don't care either. As long as they are having fun.

All what matters is that Fauna—your boss offers delicious champagne every Christmas party.

You saw Sheila laughing off her ass as she teases off Harold in being a killjoy about telling that they cheated. Like you just said, they don't care if anyone cheated. They're just here to have fun and receive gifts.

You also have a gift for the annual Kris Kringle gift exchange. You had picked Lorraine on the bowl last week and you just bought her a scarf since it's only suitable for your budget. But the scarf is one of the beautiful scarf you've seen in the market—Lorraine is lucky.

You saw Sheila approaching you while still recovering from her huge laughs in playing the game, "God, Harold is such a dick." She laughs off.

"Why do you always have to cheat? That's why no one really even likes you in this department." You replied to her as you finished off your champagne.

"Yep, no one likes me," She sighs but soon smirked at you, "But not you Y/N." She chuckles.

"Oh fuck off Sheila." You laugh, rolling your eyes at her.

"I've been one of your oldest friends since college. We took the same course, had the same classes since the end of college and even worked on the same accounting firm." Sheila smirks as you finally gave up, showing her a smile on your face.

Sheila Priest. One of your truest friend, but sometimes a pain in the ass.

"Wipe that smirk off your face now and let's join the others. I heard they are already doing the Kris Kringle." You said as you put your arm around her shoulder while walking towards the large conference room of the firm.

Everyone is there, having fun and dancing around. Then you always have to find him talking to someone in the crowd.

Damien Scott.

He's also one of your college friends—but only met him in your last year and you didn't know he will also work here to be an accountant too. He mentioned to you before that he didn't want to be an accountant even though he'll be graduating the accountancy course. All that he wants to become is a music producer. He wants to be behind the procedure of great music from great artists.

You really didn't expect he would turn his dream down to something like this. Just his plain old decision.

You both soon looked at each other as he shoots you a smile. You never talked to him that much, only some simple conversations will rise while taking a break or having coffee. Nothing much had happened.

"Alright people, gather around is we will finally start the Kris Kringle! I hope no one ever bought someone a risqué gift here." Fauna teases. You all laugh around, pointing at any suspects who would probably buy some sex toys.

"That's clearly one of my planned gifts though," Sheila laughs beside you, "And I picked Gerald." She snorts.

"What are you going to give him? A dildo for sure? That one that vibrates." You elbowed Sheila as she's trying to stop her laughs.

"Oh god, I regret getting him a shirt. That dildo would be the best thing ever." Sheila said as she catches her breath. "Well, who's yours?."

"Lorraine." You replied.

"Ugh, she's been a huge problem in getting gifts since she can afford anything." Sheila commented, now looking over Lorraine who's talking to Damien.

No she's not just talking, she's fucking flirting.

"She can afford anything, she can get anything." You said while your eyes are glued to the both of them.

Sheila noticed your stare, then a smirk appeared on her lips.

"Don't tell me you still have a crush on Damien?—"

"—I don't." You quickly replied and just silently sit there.

The Kris Kringle finally starts. Fauna will pick on the gifts that's on the table in front. Those gifts were labelled to the person who will receive it but the Secret Santa won't reveal itself until the receiver will open the gift and look for the person's name inside. Fauna picked the first gift and read who's the receiver.

"Come in front now Hilda!." Fauna said, watching Hilda stood up from her seat with a huge smile on her face.

Hilda receives her gift, opening it in front to see who's her Secret Santa. Then she squeals in happiness, "Jimmy!." She claps her hand, pointing at him and thanking him.

The gift giving goes on, Damien received his gift from Amanda and Sheila already received a gift and it's surprisingly from Lorraine. She got her a designer bag which sent Sheila to cloud nine and kept asking her if Lorraine's serious about the gift. Of course, she's serious. Your self-esteem and confidence lowered for your gift to her—hoping she would like it.

"Let me have Lorraine here in front!." Fauna again announced a name and that probably froze you in your seat.

You watch her made her way towards Fauna in front and gave her the gift, that turquoise colored gift bag that you used came from Eleanor that she also used for your gift in Christmas last year, Lorraine already have it in her hands and excitedly opened it.

"God I hope she likes it." You whispered to yourself.

"I love it!," Lorraine reacts as she pulls out the scarf you've bought, then came on your name inside. "Y/N, Y/N's my secret Santa." She smiles.

She walked up to you with the scarf already around her neck that completely suits her outfit, "This scarf is the same scarf that my dad gave to me before he passed away when I was a little girl. My mom, which is a monster, threw away that–that priceless scarf. And then now you're here, giving me this scarf again gives me life Y/N. So, thank you so much." Lorraine tears up as she tries to wipe away the tears so that it won't ruin her makeup.

Your heart flutters when you heard her story as you suddenly pull her in a warm hug, "You're welcome Lorraine." You smiled while rubbing her back for comfort.

"Fuck, I bloody cried." Sheila said and look over her wiping off those small tears of her's too. You let out a quiet chuckle and Lorraine finally pulls away from your embrace.

The moment was interrupted when you suddenly heard your name from Fauna. All eyes are on you when you are walking up front to receive your gift. A smile crept up your face while looking at the gift and finally open it up, revealing a book inside.

You pull it out and it's the book that you've been reading back in college—since you always go to the library after finishing a class.

Gustave Falubert. Madame Bovary.

You look for the name inside the bag but it's not there, but when you turn over the page of the book—there it reveals a small letter inside.

You remember it was a line from the book itself.

It was the fault of destiny!

You look at the bottom to see your secret Santa.

Damien.

"Damien," You muttered as you find him in his seat to see him already looking at you, "Damien's my secret Santa." You smiled.

You also smiled at Fauna before walking back to your seat with Sheila, Lorraine already got back to her own seat beside Damien. The brooding brunette man still has his eyes on you—deciding if he would talk to you or not.

"Madame Bovary. I remember that book you always read back in college when we visit the library. I think you already read that book a million times now—"

"Well, it's only been 7 times that I read this book over and over." You corrected her. Sheila shrugs.

"Still feels like a million times to me. I can't even stand reading Romeo and Juliet before and I didn't even finished it!." Sheila said as you laughed at her, reminiscing the time when she gave up reading Romeo and Juliet because of the deep English words that's out of her vocabulary.

You and Sheila goes on talking about your college life until the Kris Kringle is done. Everyone's got their own gifts and finally wrapped up the party since it's already 9PM. You can always catch Damien's look on you while you're arranging and cleaning the conference room. So you decided to make the first move.

You walk up to him and saw you coming towards him too, "Damien, hey uh...I'm just here to thank you for the gift you've got me. Madame Bovary is...close to my heart. I'm glad that um...I finally own a copy of it." You showed him a smile, feeling like it's an awkward one.

"You're welcome Y/N. You know the thing is, I know that book is very important to you." His deep Irish accent again fills your ears and what he said caught you off guard.

"W–what? Does it mean..." You try to remember your first year in college, where you still didn't even know him, "...are you the student librarian before?."

Damien broke off a smile, "Yes, yes I am. I remember that book is always the one I have to write down in your library card." He chuckles.

"God, I'm sorry. It must've been a tough time for you always writing down Madame Bovary in my card," You laughed as he laugh along too, "So uh, again, thank you Damien. It really mean so much to me."

"Anything for you Y/N."

The conversation ended there.

Your heels turn away from him again, walking away as you approach Sheila who's waiting for you in the main entrance of the building.

"Aren't you be heading home?." You asked her.

"Sleepover at yours? It's been a year since I slept in your flat again." Sheila asked with that pleading eyes again.

"Fine. You can stay at mine's." You said and Sheila throw her arms around you while walking down the block—already excited and planning on hanging out in your place until midnight.

...

Doorbell.

The doorbell was ringing—it's already 10AM.

You and Sheila are still enjoying your sleep. Her legs are resting on top of your hips as you kick her legs out from you.

"Sheilaaaaa, can you get the door for me please?." You slurred in your sleep, saying that with your eyes closed.

Sheila groans but you still slap her arm to wake her up.

"Sheila." You groaned and turn to your other side, pulling the covers off her.

Sheila opens her eyes and glared at you before leaving the bed, still sleepy and tired. She pushed the stray hairs away from her face as she reach out for the knob, opening the front door.

Your friend was shocked to what she's just looking at.

"Y/N!." Sheila shouted from the front door.

You heard it as you slowly open your eyes, but never leave the bed. Maybe the whole neighborhood also heard Sheila's scream.

"Y/N! Roger fucking Taylor is outside your door!." Sheila screams again.

And that made you jolt up from your bed.

"What?!."

___________________________ FINALLY I FINISHED THIS PART! It's been days since I've been working this part though—it's kinda tough.

Anyways, DAISY RIDLEY as Sheila Priest

And NIALL HORAN as Damien Scott (ok guys i had to. I HAD TO!)

Then this is Reese's outfit in the club:

taglist: @peter-sue-the-management @beatlesdotcom @rogahs-drowse @winchestergirl13-27 @ixchel-9275

IF YOU WANT TO BE IN THE TAGLIST, PLEASE LET ME KNOW!

#roger taylor #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor x you #roger taylor angst #roger taylor smut #roger taylor fluff #roger taylor series #queen band #queen fanfiction #queen fic #queen imagines #queenrogah's fic

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dreams-of-the-arcana · 4 years

Text

Whew, so that was some hard stuff earlier. But I did promise a better scene today too! Being thrown into the Devil’s arms might seem like the end but what if it isn’t...? What if it’s only a new beginning?

Warnings: Residual Angst as Cleo thinks about her life

Immediately Post-Death, Pre-Canon

From The Darkness, What Now?

Darkness.

Utter

Complete

Darkness.

Darkness that makes you forget you’ve ever seen the light.

Pressing down.

Erasing where you end and where the universe begins.

“Tell me what you want most?”

The voice was Cleo’s only companion in this world of nothing. She couldn’t say how long since Count Lucio had thrown her or how many times the voice had asked that same question. It didn’t matter to her anyway. Nothing mattered here.

Cleo wondered if she was dead. If this emptiness was all there was. A doubt at the back of her mind said no. Remembered the sight of shadows crawling around the floor and the clawed hand that rested on Count Lucio’s shoulder. The sting of a clawed hand on her...

Was it The Counts though?

“Tell me what you want most?”

Nothing.

Cleo thought about her first brush with death. The knife, Monty’s knife, how many times had he brandished it in the dead of the night at invisible nightmares. It was the only link she had to her wayward lover and she wanted him to be the last thing she thought of. Not the betrayal or the pretty Princess he was likely bedding instead of her but how tenderly he touched her and when he wrapped her up in his arms. She wanted to recall the sound of his voice when he cried out for her or said he loved her. Cleo had forgotten she was just a slave. That Monty had bought her with blood and violence. It only made sense that she should end that way. Payment for the souls he slayed to have her. It was her choice but she had cast the knife aside. It was her life, she would go on her own terms.

“Tell me what you want most?”

Nothing.

Cleo had finally gotten what she wanted when Monty had to look in her eye as he killed her. A brief flicker of light though had settled in her minds eye. Soft moss green eyes.

Large hands roaming over her ever so careful.

Hard muscles beneath her hands.

Quiet groans in the night.

Muriel.

Muriel had been her choice and he chose her back. It’d been the most wonderful time of her life.

“You could see him again”

No. No, this was it. Muriel was alive and he could live a beautiful happy life without her holding him down. Cleo hoped he would find someone better to love and have a family with. Family made her think of little Magni. The baby she’d held for a perfect five minutes. What color was his hair now? Who’s eyes did he have? Was Sophia giving him the love he deserved?

“You could be reunited.”

Cleo knew they couldn’t. Magni had a life away from the complicated past she’d been forced into. What child wanted to wake up and find out they were from a cruel Count and a whore? No. She sent him away so he could have a chance. Sophia would be good to him, he would grow into a better man than his Father.

“Tell me. What do you want most?”

The oppressive darkness seemed to invade her mind now. Thoughts began to slow. As if, sleep was calling.

So Cleo drifted.

Alone in the dark.

Content.

Softness.

The scent of dirt.

The sounds of birds both singing and flying above.

Cleo took a deep breath and opened her eyes.

She was laying on a bed of moss in what seemed to be a very large garden. Flowers bloomed everywhere and soft morning sunlight touched everything. A bit beyond the flowers and trees, Cleo could see beautiful open hallways of rose colored stone.

‘This must be one of those gardens in the middle of a home or palace,’ Cleo reasoned. She’d seen one once when Monty took her with him to stay in a Lord’s mansion. It was a breathtaking sight she hadn’t expected but the Lord mentioned it was common in that part of the world.

She stood up slowly, testing for any aches or soreness but none appeared. Instead, Cleo felt good. It was as if she’d had a restful nights sleep and all her problems melted away.

Looking around Cleo spotted an open door near her and something inside told her she should go through it. Her footsteps fell heavier on the stone floor as she walked into a plain room with a very modest throne at the end. A top the throne sat a woman who could have been made of the same marble that surrounded her. The marble woman wore a simple white dress with gleaming pieces of onyx armor. In her hands she held a golden scale and a large worn looking sword. Cleo’s eyes were drawn to her face though as she had a thick black cloth tied over her eyes.

“Come here.” Cleo started when the woman spoke having almost come to the conclusion she was a statue but she stood in front of the throne.

“You and I have much to discuss, dear.”

It took a moment for Cleo to realize the woman couldn’t see her look of confusion.

“Do we?” She replied.

The stone woman nodded.

“I have brought you here for a reason. You were offered unjustly to The Devil and it took some effort to take you back.”

“The Devil?” Cleo had heard the term before but couldn’t place where.

The stone woman lifted her sword and gestured around them before settling it back with a loud thud.

“We are the Major Arcana. I am Justice and you are one of the magicians I have watched for some time. When tempted by the Devil you asked for nothing. So he could not keep you. Now you’re here with me to decide what’s next for you.”

Cleo stared at the woman. Next? What did she mean next? It was over. Wasn’t it?

Justice rose from her seat and moved down towards Cleo, each step sent a thunderous sound throughout the room. Justice passed Cleo who, though confused, followed along.

When they reached the edge of the garden Justice pointed to a large pond in the middle.

Cleo quickly settled herself in front of it and watched as Justice dipped her scales into the surface.

Images flew out all over the surface in a flash. Images of Cleo’s life.

“Wha... what is this?”

“This is you, child. Your life has not been a fair one. Choices were made for you.”

The scene of a village on fire enlarged then faded into her first sight of the Rosehyn Brothel.

“But you never faltered.”

Young Cleo refusing to eat then her meeting with the madam. Suddenly it showed her older meeting Monty. Their first night as one. Riding alongside him to different destinations.

“No matter the challenge you stayed true to yourself and never complained.”

Monty kissing her goodbye before going into Prakra. Waking up back in the palace after her unsuccessful suicide. The night Magni was conceived. The night Magni was born.

“You continued to move forward.”

Running to Count Lucio when he called. Helping Doctor V in the lab. Teaching other servants how to play instruments or games.

“Then you even found hope.”

Her first meeting with Muriel. Their dance. The first time they made love. Waking to see his peaceful face.

“But when you faced your first real choice, you stayed true. Despite knowing you would lose everything.”

Count Lucio’s face as he pushed Cleo into the darkness. A look of horror and regret a second too late.

“Now you’re here with me and you must make another choice.

Do you want to live, Cleo?”

The scenes scattered again and Cleo watched them shift through her life. Every painful, joyous, horrible, sad moment. The question weighed heavily in the air but Justice seemed unbothered. Cleo didn’t feel rushed to answer this stone woman. Muriel’s face appeared in the pond then Magni, Doctor V, Julian Devorak, Sophia, the Madam. But Cleo touched the water and dispelled them all.

This had to be her choice for herself. Not for anyone else. So she searched her heart and found the spark of hope still in there. The one she thought Muriel’s kindness had ignited but now she knew it was her that always brought herself to the light.

“Yes. I want to live.” She whispered.

Justice lifted her scales out of the water and smiled.

“You have chosen to live for you then. Had you chosen for anything else I would have cast you out. Now I know, you are truly one of mine.” Justice’s voice was warm though her stony face showed no change.

“I will send you back but on the condition that you will now be given the chance to make your own choices.”

“How will you do that?”

“I would like to keep your memories here. Send you back as fresh as a babe to begin anew.”

Cleo pondered for a minute wondering if she could give up her memories. They were tinged with sadness, yes but they were hers.

‘It’s the right thing to do.’ She told herself and nodded to Justice.

Suddenly her eyes grew heavy and it felt as though a warm blanket was enveloping her. Justice’s stony face watched as Cleo closed her eyes and began to drift. Before she fell away though, a pair of beautiful moss green eyes appeared and Cleo did yearn for them.

#the arcana #the arcana game #arcana apprentice #arcana oc #fan apprentice #arcana fanfic #get to know the apprentice #cleo the apprentice #cleo origin

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