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penwiper · 4 years

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So a couple days ago, some folks braved my long-dormant social media accounts to make sure I’d seen this tweet:

And after getting over my initial (rather emotional) response, I wanted to reply properly, and explain just why that hit me so hard.

So back around twenty years ago, the internet cosplay and costuming scene was very different from today. The older generation of sci-fi convention costumers was made up of experienced, dedicated individuals who had been honing their craft for years. These were people who took masquerade competitions seriously, and earning your journeyman or master costuming badge was an important thing. They had a lot of knowledge, but – here’s the important bit – a lot of them didn’t share it. It’s not just that they weren’t internet-savvy enough to share it, or didn’t have the time to write up tutorials – no, literally if you asked how they did something or what material they used, they would refuse to tell you. Some of them came from professional backgrounds where this knowledge literally was a trade secret, others just wanted to decrease the chances of their rivals in competitions, but for whatever reason it was like getting a door slammed in your face. Now, that’s a generalization – there were definitely some lovely and kind and helpful old-school costumers – but they tended to advise more one-on-one, and the idea of just putting detailed knowledge out there for random strangers to use wasn’t much of a thing. And then what information did get out there was coming from people with the freedom and budget to do things like invest in all the tools and materials to create authentic leather hauberks, or build a vac-form setup to make stormtrooper armor, etc. NOT beginner friendly, is what I’m saying.

Then, around 2000 or so, two particular things happened: anime and manga began to be widely accessible in resulting in a boom in anime conventions and cosplay culture, and a new wave of costume-filled franchises (notably the Star Wars prequels and the Lord of the Rings movies) hit the theatres. What those brought into the convention and costuming arena was a new wave of enthusiastic fans who wanted to make costumes, and though a lot of the anime fans were much younger, some of them, and a lot of the movie franchise fans, were in their 20s and 30s, young enough to use the internet to its (then) full potential, old enough to have autonomy and a little money, and above all, overwhelmingly female. I think that latter is particularly important because that meant they had a lifetime of dealing with gatekeepers under our belts, and we weren’t inclined to deal with yet another one. They looked at the old dragons carefully hoarding their knowledge, keeping out anyone who might be unworthy, or (even worse) competition, and they said NO. If secrets were going to be kept, they were going to figure things out for ourselves, and then they were going to share it with everyone. Those old-school costumers may have done us a favor in the long run, because not knowing those old secrets meant that we had to find new methods, and we were trying – and succeeding with – materials that “serious” costumers would never have considered. I was one of those costumers, but there were many more – I was more on the movie side of things, so JediElfQueen and PadawansGuide immediately spring to mind, but there were so many others, on YahooGroups and Livejournal and our own hand-coded webpages, analyzing and testing and experimenting and swapping ideas and sharing, sharing, sharing.

I’m not saying that to make it sound like we were the noble knights of cosplay, riding in heroically with tutorials for all. I’m saying that a group of people, individually and as a collective, made the conscious decision that sharing was a Good Things that would improve the community as a whole. That wasn’t necessarily an easy decision to make, either. I know I thought long and hard before I posted that tutorial; the reaction I had gotten when I wore that armor to a con told me that I had hit on something new, something that gave me an edge, and if I didn’t share that info I could probably hang on to that edge for a year, or two, or three. And I thought about it, and I was briefly tempted, but again, there were all of these others around me sharing what they knew, and I had seen for myself what I could do when I borrowed and adapted some of their ideas, and I felt the power of what could happen when a group of people came together and gave their creativity to the world.

And it changed the face of costuming. People who had been intimidated by the sci-fi competition circuit suddenly found the confidence to try it themselves, and brought in their own ideas and discoveries. And then the next wave of younger costumers took those ideas and ran, and built on them, and branched out off of them, and the wave after that had their own innovations, and suddenly here we are, with Youtube videos and Tumblr tutorials and Etsy patterns and step-by-step how-to books, and I am just so, so proud.

So yeah, seeing appreciation for a 17-year-old technique I figured out on my dining-room table (and bless it, doesn’t that page just scream “I learned how to code on Geocities!”), and having it embraced as a springboard for newer and better things warms this fandom-old’s heart. This is our legacy, and a legacy the current group of cosplayers is still creating, and it’s a good one.

(Oh, and for anyone wondering: yes, I’m over 40 now, and yes, I’m still making costumes. And that armor is still in great shape after 17 years in a hot attic!)

#costumes #cosplay #fandom history

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dreamsmp-au-ideas · 3 years

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Sooo sorry if you've done this before, but what about like a Minecraft Storymode AU? Like maybe with Sparklez, Philza, or other people as the Order of the Stone? Maybe Dream as the Admin in season 2?

Oh god. What have you done. You unlocked the inner Storymode in me. Oh god why.

Alright, first things first. We’re going to pick up the plot, put it in a blender, and throw it off the bridge. We going to maintain some plot but we’re going to do stuff a bit better. Why? Because I want good writing and I also may want some extra angst in here.

Onto ideas in bullet points because I can’t think of anything else and I can’t think of things in long sentences now.

-Tommy, Tubbo, Purpled, and Ranboo are the protagonists of the story. They all live in one treehouse and generally get along

-Tommy and Tubbo are childhood friends and built the treehouse and had discs play when they finished making it :]

-Ranboo just showed up one day with no memory on how he got there. Tommy and Tubbo said friend and let him into the treehouse

-Purpled just showed up one day and he has not stopped showing up ever since that meeting

-They all have some sort of thing associated with them, Tommy has the discs, Tubbo has a bee plush from the Captain, Ranboo has his memory book, and Purpled has a gold chain that used to belong to Punz

-Wilbur, Techno, Phil, the Captain, Eret, and Schlatt are all apart of the Order of the Stone. They all split though after an incident that lead to the Captain and Phil disappearing

-Fundy and Niki are the in the role of Lukas but with some changes. Fundy has daddy issues and is bitter towards Wilbur but is friendly to the kids. Niki is friendly but you can tell she doesn’t like Tommy too much

-Wilbur visits the kids a lot as well as try to go and talk to Fundy. He has to make sure that the four of them doesn’t start a fire and he wants to try and fix his relationship with Fundy

-Techno is the Ivor of the story. He unleashes a Wither and somehow a Wither Storm happens and that wasn’t part of the plan. Holy shit

-We going to go get alternate POVs for Tubbo, Tommy, Ranboo, and Purpled. They all have different ways to solve a problem. Tommy is going to steal and use violence, Tubbo is going to do things logically, Ranboo is going to try and appeal to a person emotionally, and Purpled would just bribe them. It’s entertaining

-They all have different goals as well. Tommy wants his family back together and getting along like before, Tubbo wants to find what happened to the Captain, Ranboo wants to know why he’s here and what’s missing in his memory, and Purpled just wants to try and move on from and make his (previously thought) deceased brother proud

-Fundy and Niki has accidentally adopted the kids after Tommy, Tubbo, and Ranboo dragged them all through the Nether Portal as Wilbur and Purpled stalled the Wither Storm. Whoops all found family

-Eret is in the end and just vibing and trying to find a way to get Phil and the Captain back.

-Schlatt has made a fucking business empire and oh boy is it big.

-Everyone has armor and weapons at the start because Purpled gave it to them as a paranoia thing and to protect themselves. So right off the bat, everyone has iron armor and swords. Mid way they get Diamonds and by the end of season one they all have Netherite

-Tubbo made nukes even before the whole story happened. No one knows why and are all scared of him.

-The old Order of the Stone is actually going to get plot beyond the first season for once and we’re going to go have Techno and Schlatt pretty much be the Ivors of the situation and making them go through character development

-The portal plot is still relevant here and you know what that means! It means that I’m going to go and fucking put so many Tales characters and I’m going to go and put the Badlands and Phil in the PAMA world. Or as it now is known, the Egg world.

-I’m conflicted on whether I should have the Murder Mystery be the Village that went Mad or the Masquerade. Maybe both. Yeah I love Ranbutler, Hubert, James, Robin, Catboy and Helga too much. Oh god.

-The Captain is going to be in the PvP tournament world and oh boy is it going to be intense there. However, they did not predict Purpled and Techno’s competitive ability in Bedwars and more

-I am very tempted to go and have Ranbutler and Hubert become main characters as well in this au. I love them but oh god will they fit in the story?

-The Badlands and Karl however are permanent additions to the team now after the group’s portal adventure

-Ranboo and Purpled are getting centric roles in Season 2

-Dream is less of a dick in here but still is one. He doesn’t manipulate kids but he’s still a dick

-Punz is a mercenary and oh boy Purpled punches him when he finds out that he’s alive

-He is also working for Dream but no one knows that so we’re going to have Purpled drag him along and we get sibling angst and we’re going to have them talk about their problems in the future

-Ranboo on the other hand is going to freak out about the fact that he used to work for Dream. It gives him a whole crisis and everything.

-Quackity was from the business empire Schlatt made and is currently making a name for himself in the political area. He is also going to be apart of the plot as him and Karl went and managed to convince Sapnap and George to turn against Dream

-Jack is also going to be dragged into this because of Fundy and Niki telling him that Tommy isn’t all that bad. Then one adventure later he’s in prison because of Tommy. He’ll warm up to him don’t worry

-Sam is the prison warden but is pretty much doing it against his will. Not fun. He tries to help everyone though

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darkmindsotome · 3 years

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Soap and Sun

Title: Soap and Sun

Fandom: Love365 Masquerade Kiss

Pairing: Yazuru Shiba x MC

Word count: 3,464

Warning: NSFW Smut

Written by: darkmindsotome

Summary: When a long awaited date threatens to derail under the summer sun a spur of the moment idea triggers an even steamer time together than planned.

Tagging @voltage-vixen as requested. Prompt #9: Car Wash Featuring the MC/LI as the Sponge

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When I thought of summer in London, I hadn’t thought of much else other than spending some quality time with my boyfriend.

He’d been playing the part of visiting lecturer at his old alma mater, Oxford University. His curriculum was well thought out and methodical, just like the man himself. Every time I was been able to catch one it was like attending a sell-out concert. I was always blown away by how he could turn a baffling topic into something easier to understand. In the end, you were never left feeling like you were stupid and it was amazing to watch him in his element. A true genius craftsman with genuine love and passion for his work.

Still, I would have liked to have seen him a bit more than I currently was. Silently chastising myself for the selfishness of that thought I tried to push it aside. I was once more in England and as per our agreement, we were on a date. That alone was enough to re-energise me.

It wasn’t much but we had decided to go for a drive in one of his cherished Bugattis. The sleek lines of it cut through the English countryside like a hot knife through butter. This was the kind of escape he liked. It wasn’t any more rushed than he wanted it to be. Just him, the open road, and his car. I watched with relief from the passenger seat as I could see the layers of stress and fatigue melt away from him.

“Are you sure this is all you wanted to do?” He had his usual blank poker face on as he asked. The only thing giving away how sceptical he was, was his tone.

“Yeah. I enjoy spending time with you Yuzu. I don’t really mind what we are doing as long as we can be together.” The answer came quickly to me and I enjoyed the brief moment where I could see his stoic mask slip and get a glimpse under it.

“You can be very direct at times.” He sighed.

“Does it bother you?” I didn’t candy coat things when talking to him. I had tried that when were first became an item and found out the hard way that subtle approaches would not be to anyone’s benefit in this relationship.

“No.” There was a faint smile on his face whether he was aware of it or not.

A comfortable silence fell over the interior of the car as it twisted and turned down roads that were becoming increasingly more rural and isolated.

“Where are we going anyway?” I decided to break the silence and ask as it had been about twenty minutes now and there was still no clue as to where Yuzu had planned on taking me. When I suggested just going for a drive and he had agreed, I thought he would have a destination in mind, not just aimlessly driving around the rural backroads of England for the afternoon.

“You’ll see when we get there.” I watched his dashing profile my eyes naturally falling to the strong hands the gripped the leather wheel. Those slightly rough calloused fingers I adored and missed so much, flexing against the wheel I was suddenly jealous of. Averting my eyes back to the passing scenery I tried to push away the ideas that would send me into dangerous waters.

Tall old trees lit up with the sun produced a mottled canopy of light as Yuzuru expertly drove his car through a nearly completely hidden entrance from the main road onto a small dirt track. For a car not designed to be an off-roader, the ride was still smooth. I found myself wondering if that was a testament to the Italian engineering or his driving. A smile came naturally to my face and I couldn’t stop it. Before I met Yuzuru the idea of engineering, cars, driving… any of it would have been far from my mind. Now the ideas came to me easily. He really had changed me.

“What is it? You have a grin on your face.” He frowned.

“Am I not allowed to be happy when I’m with you.” I teased watching as his expression relaxed once more.

“As long as it’s only with me. We’re here.”

He stopped the car in a clearing that was right next to the three S’s old school hideout. The shabby little cottage stood there in the overgrown garden looking like something from a fairytale. It was just as I remembered it the first time I saw it with him.

“What happened to ‘no girls allowed'?” I couldn’t help but ask, surprised by his choice of destination.

“You would rather go somewhere else?” He still had the keys to the car in one hand and the handle of the door in the other. He was looking at me with those dark eyes scanning me like code on a screen.

“No, it’s just why here?” I didn’t really have a location for our date in mind I had decided to leave it up to him. That didn’t mean I wasn’t a little shocked by his choice.

“I wanted to show you something. You remember that old failed power supply?” His hand fell from the door allowing it to partly close on us both in the vehicle.

“The hyrdo—” I started to answer only to be cut off.

“Hydraulic turbine.” For some reason, he looked bashful. A man who didn’t show much emotion was looking at me with a faint blush making my heart skip in my chest. “I got it working and I thought- I wanted you to be the first to see it.”

“Really?!” I was stunned.

“I’ve never known someone to get so happy over such things.” He chuckled.

I had assumed he would be showing his success to his two best friends before me. I was perhaps a little too excited to find something where I topped the list of people ahead of Kazuomi or Kei when it came to Yuzuru and his work.

“You’re one to talk Mr Space Screws.” I tried to distract from my over the top reaction by childishly reminding him of when he got so passionately attached to something it nearly ruined a date.

“True. Come on it's over here.” My childish retort didn’t work. He didn’t react to it at all and simply nodded accepting what I said as the facts they were and exited the car leaving me to scramble behind him to catch up.

A small waterway near the rear of the cottage was sparkling in the sunlight. The fresh clear water was turning the fossil-like shell structure I had seen on my last visit. Watching it spinning it looked even more amazing than before.

What once could have been little more than a garden sculpture was now functioning. Scooping up water and cascading it between its two halves speeding it up and pushing it out in a strong even flow.

“I can’t believe you got it to work.” I was mesmerised watching the two halves turning the craftsmanship of the original I had seen had been adjusted to something more streamlined and very much in keeping with the minimalist nature of its creator.

“It wasn’t easy. The stream here isn’t very large so I had to calculate the flow rate and adjust the design to accommodate it. Amping up the flow inside the device allows for more energy to be produced and stored so power is produced. Then there was customising the old generator for the cottage to take the charge and convert it for use.” He was explaining and becoming the animated Yuzu I remembered. He was a man typically of few words but give him a topic he loved then his passion would allow him to ramble on for hours.

“It’s wonderful.” The words barely left my mouth before the spinning shells in front of us gave an ear-piercing shriek and ground to a halt. “What happened?”

“I think one of the bolts might have slipped its casing. Or maybe…” Yuzuru was already moving from my side towards his creation before pausing to look back at me his posture slumping as he mentally chastised himself for losing focus on our date. “Sorry, I-”

“It’s fine. You want me to go make a cup of coffee while you figure it out?”

With my reassurance that I accepted his desire to correct the problem he nodded and fell silent. It might not be how I wanted the day to play out but this was the man I loved and it wasn’t like we weren’t together. Draping his jacket over a nearby branch as he bent over his invention inspecting it.

His passion came with an extreme immersive focus. It was one of the things I found endearing about him. How he showed me glimpses of himself where his guard dropped. This was Yuzu in his element. The kid in the candy store. I went inside the cottage removing the door key from its hiding spot under a planter.

Time ticked by the hours of the sun passing with every stroke of the hand on the clock. It might be a part of him I was used to by now but it didn’t mean that I wasn’t a little bored. Exercising to kill time in this heat was not my idea of fun. Still, my body felt kind of itchy wanting to move. I was washing up the cups when my eyes fell on the Bugatti parked outside and I had an idea.

Yuzuru normally paid a valet to clean it. Maintaining its showroom condition was something of a source of pride to him as an owner. It couldn’t hurt to give it a little wipe down myself right? I could get rid of the dust on it and cool off in the process.

The lukewarm water swayed in the bucket as I carried it outside. I had found a new sponge and even some car shampoo in a cupboard. It was several years old but it was going to be better than trying to use dish soap.

I hooked my hair up high at the back and pinned it there with a couple of chopsticks I found in a draw in the kitchen. I’d already abandoned my dress in favour of a pair of shorts and a t-shirt I found in Yuzu’s old bedroom. I had to pull the drawstring at the waist to get the shorts to fit and the shirt was massive. Rolling the hem, I knotted it at the back turning it into a makeshift crop top. Happy with the adjustments to my wardrobe I plunged my hands into the bucket and got to work.

The soap lathered quickly oozing between my fingers as I squished the sponge and carried it over to the car.

It took some time but the turbine was once more turning freely and working. He frowned as he looked at his watch, thankful for its water resistance and realising how much time had passed. This was supposed to be a date and here he was once more lost in his own world. As he walked back to the cottage, he only hoped Mc hadn’t gotten so bored with him that she’d left.

Musing over the fact that he wouldn’t blame her if that was the case he stumbled upon a rare sight and his heart skipped such a beat it felt like it had landed in his throat. Mc dressed in his old school gym gear, his car and one of the most dazzling impromptu foam parties he’d ever thank a God for providing.

For all the fact it wasn’t the first time I’d ever washed a car before I still forgot how hard it was to reach all the parts of the roof. No matter how hard I stretched I kept coming in contact with the side of the wet soapy Bugatti and not actually reaching the missing points on the roof with my outstretched hand and sponge.

It wasn’t until a hand enveloped mine taking the sponge from it that I even noticed Yuzu was back.

“What are you doing?” His question felt absurd so I decided to joke.

“Hunting elephants.” I tried to turn only to find myself pinned to the side of the car by him. His tall frame easily overpowering me. “I’ll ask you the same what are you doing?”

“I thought you were trying to tempt me. I’m just playing along.” His mouth was hovering near my ear and the grip on my hip was flexing like his hands had done before on the steering wheel. Large strong hands began kneading at my body like it was pasta dough.

Shamelessly I went limp against him. The weather was too hot for me to bother thinking of fighting back as usual. Our little games of cat and mouse we both enjoyed was a distant idea for another day. I let his hand travel further round to the ties at my waist, those skilled fingers loosening the shorts with ease.

All the time I remained “helplessly” pinned to the car by his body and his other hand sliding up my arm and pulling the chopsticks from my hair letting it tumble free.

“So compliant. That’s not like you at all.” He gave a dark chuckle that sent a chill down my spine. I couldn’t let that go and turned to give him a piece of my mind.

“I’ll have you know I--” Words died the instant I met that dry ice gaze. His dark eyes were an inky black reflecting only me and all hope I had of putting up a front with him melted in that passionate heat.

“You what?” He held me frozen in place that smirk on his lips felt very like him at a time like this. Yuzu always became a tease when things were taking a steamy turn. “You know you missed several spots?”

He pulled back his heat leaving me feeling the cool, dampness of the clothes I was standing in. I felt my body betray me with a whimper I barely silenced.

“I can’t reach all of it.” I knew I was pouting but right now this had been the closest contact we had had in a while and I was far from wanting to play coy. “Can you help me?”

Holding out the sponge to him I gave it a squeeze letting the suds run across my skin and smiled watching his adam’s apple bob under that thin infuriating turtleneck of his. Without a word he pulled his top off exposing that mass of well-toned muscle and lean physique, he worked hard to maintain with his demanding job. It was my turn for my throat to go dry as he took the sponge and loaded it with soapy water from the bucket.

“Come here.” His command had me moving automatically and I watched him slap the wet sponge on the bonnet of the car. “Take it.” I did as I was told only to feel my body pulled back by my hips. “I said take it.”

“I’m trying but you’re not helping.” My complaint was indignant but still playful. His hands were running over my thighs delving into the fabric of the shorts from below pushing them higher exposing more of my legs to the world.

“I can’t help until I see where you need my help.” His breath was like a vapour at this point. His body was burning up and I could feel the pressure of his desire against me. My grip on the sponge grew limp all I wanted was to be with him now the car be damned. “What giving up before the job is done? That isn’t like you.”

“Mmm, Yuzu.” I ignored how in control he was and was willing to blame the heat of the day for the fire swelling inside me and how I rubbed my ass purposely against him. It was an invitation he was all too willing to answer.

In a flash, my arms were pushed high over my head the water of the sponge ran in a river over the bonnet soaking through my shirt between my breasts. His hands removed the shorts and underwear in one fast motion like he was removing a band-aid. Even with the lack of breeze outside, I shuddered at the exposure.

With one hand reaching down to burry his fingers inside me he used the other to reach up over me taking the sponge and pushing it around me. The wet sounds from me and the squelch of the sponge in my ears had me squirming under him. The different places the water touched on my skin felt like he was running his tongue all over me and I arched my body into his firm chest as he covered me.

“I don’t think this is going to cut it.” He denounced the sponge. holding it high over my back and squeezing it dry over my exposed skin before tossing it from the car and flipped me over. My body felt limp in the heat but I managed to remove the painful knot of the wet fabric at my back and hitch myself up a little higher on the car so I was at a better angle.

He let out an appreciative guttural moan that sounded far more animalistic than usual.

“You like cleaning the car then huh?” I teased with what was left of my composure.

Yuzu moved to between my thighs soundlessly and dragged his hot tongue in a long slow swipe through my folds. I tilted my head back blinded by the bright sun and in total disbelief that we were even doing this. When had I become so into sex that this was my life? Did I care? I glanced down and was met with his eyes staring at me from over my pubic mound. He sucked on that bundle of nerves and gave me a little nip on the inside of my thigh.

“What are you thinking?” He asked as he played with his fingers inside me. Scissoring them moving both fast and slow.

“Y-you. I was t-t-thinking about you Yuzu.”

My reply had him smiling and he then removed his hand and grabbed both my ankles dragging me down the slippery metal towards him.

“You know one of the best things about cleaning a car?” I was stunned speechless. There was something devilish about him that I didn’t see often. He was always passionate with an endless sex drive but this was new. He leaned over me his face in front of mine blocking out the sun making it hard to see him. “It’s the getting it dirty to start with.”

Before my eyes could adjust to see him clearly I felt a familiar suffocating pressure from below as he filled me up with his length. With every roll of his hips, it had me bouncing against the bonnet. The water trapped under me foamed with the fabric of my shirt and moved me around in unpredictable ways. The even rhythm from him coupled with my body's unrulily movements thanks to the lubrication of the soap on the car had me reaching the edge faster than normal.

“Ah! Yuzu… I … I’m so close.”

He seemed to speed up and target all the parts of my body he knew I liked. Thanks to the clinging shirt, my nipples were clearly visible and found their way into his mouth where he nipped at them with his teeth. He used his mouth to cover the exposed patches of my torso playing a game of hide and seek with the wet fabric driving my mind further to oblivion.

Right when I thought I was going to reach my limit, he stopped. He left himself inside me but refused to move. I mewed and looked up at him. He was panting, sweat dripping over him. I tried to move my own hips to get more but he just remained still looking at me.

“Yuzu?” I was confused. Why had he stopped?

“I love you Mc.” His confession was quiet but touched my heart as clearly as if he had screamed it.

“I love you too Yuzu.”

“I know.” He picked up the movement as if he had never stopped. The devilish smile on his face replaced by an erotic pleasure mask that had my own heart soaring.

Under the summer sky in an isolated part of the English countryside, we connected over and over again. Our cries and moans melting into the nature surrounding us. Our love and passion driving us forward burning hotter than the sun long after it had set.

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#summer of smut #summer of smut content creation challenge

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crows-and-crumbs · 3 years

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I love the idea of neil talking to matt about his relationship with Andrew and matt being super supportive bc thats his best friend and also a little shocked bc thats andrew minyard

Matt and Neil’s friendship doesn’t get enough love and recognition tbh, I love them so much.

I hope it did this prompt justice, I at least had a very fun time writing this! I hope you enjoys anon!

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“Matt where do you and Dan go on dates?” Matt almost dropped the plate he’d been drying off.

He played it off with a cough as he slowly turned to face Neil, who’d taken up seating on the kitchen counter, kicking the legs against the cupboards beneath.

“Dates?” He asked dumbly, not quite sure he understood the questions intent.

The foxes knew about Neil and Andrew, they weren’t stupid, but somehow it still caught him off guard sometimes.

All of them.

Matt had butted out of the betting the others still had booming business, mostly because he knew it annoyed Neil, even if he didn’t say anything. Generally, he stayed out of their business as much as he could, especially Andrew.

His feelings towards his best friend’s boyfriend was... complicated to say the least.

Andrew was violent, dangerous and ruthless to a point Matt couldn’t completely comprehend.

He had seen Andrew do things that sacred him, had felt them himself.

He doesn’t remember much of his one and only trip with Andrew and his crew, but it still has Dan fuming when they talk about it.

She had always been more angry about it than Matt himself was.

Matt felt oddly indifferent about it though, bordering on grateful. He knows it wasn’t for his sake, that it wasn’t the right way, but it had worked and honestly that’s what mattered the most to him.

He respected Andrew and his abilities. More than once Matt had been beyond impressed with how he performed on the court. He knew better than most how terrible it felt going through withdrawals, Matt couldn’t imagine standing up while coming down from a high, much less playing a full half in front of an entire stadium full of people.

“Yeah, you always talk about your date nights, but you never talk about what you do” Neil’s voice dragged him back to the current situation, and embarrassed Matt realised he’d been spacing out for at least a solid minute.

“Y-yeah!” Matt stammered, turning back to the dishes to hide his internal panic, “what do you want to know?”

“Andrew likes the outside, I think” Neil began, heels stopping their methodical thumping against the poor cupboard “but he likes movies too, so I just wanted to know... since I’ve never actually been on a real date.”

Matt felt like crying and squealing with joy at the same time. He loved Neil, he was the best friend he’d ever had, even if he didn’t understand what was going through the redhead’s mind most of the time, and could never understand like Andrew could.

It was moments like this, mundane and normal, that made his heart flutter.

“Well movies is a pretty good go too” Matt began, drying off the last plate a little more thoroughly, gaining his composure before turning around “but if he likes the outside, maybe take him for a hike or something.”

Neil leaned forward, balancing his chin on his knee.

Matt tried to imagine that, Neil and the monster on a hike, masquerading as humans, going for a romantic walk in the forest.

Suddenly the picture was embedded in Matt’s head, and he it made him smile like an idiot.

“Why are you smiling like that?” Neil began, his brows knitted but lip quirking slightly upwards in lack of understanding.

“Nothing just...” Matt trailed off, searching for the right words “you just seem happy, that’s all.” The words were spoken softer than intended.

Neil stiffened, and for a moment Matt was scared he’d set the younger off somehow.

Talking to any of the monsters were like setting foot in a minefield.

It was like they interacted with the world differently than everyone else, and Matt logically knew it was because they didn’t know how.

You don’t become like Andrew Minyard without some shit happening. That didn’t stop the wave of uncanny valley effect from washing over him now and again.

Neil’s tense shoulder softened just as quickly as they had come though, and Matt breathed freely again.

“I guess I am” Neil answered him, looking from his hand and up and Matt, smile playing at his lips.

“Good” Matt responded, and so the silence settled over them again.

“I might take him to the beach, he’ll like the water” Neil stood from the counter, bumping Matt’s shoulder with his own “thanks for the advice” and then he was gone.

Matt stood there for only a little longer, until Dan arrived, flipping down on the couch to complain about the new lineup.

Allison had her doubts about them, Andrew and Neil, but after that day, Matt couldn’t be more reassured.

#andrew minyard #neil josten #aftg #andriel #aftg fanfic #matt boyd

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rainbowpacifiers · 3 years

Text

Twin Kingdoms (A3! Event story) - Epilogue: The Inheritance of G

Sorry for the delay! Reni talks A LOT. Some minor development concerning Hakkaku’s plans for the final play. Kindly excuse any potential mistakes!

Chapter 10 | Index

Reni: Thank you for taking the trouble to come. Board member A: Good work. It was the sprouting of a new GOD Troupe. Board member B: Both Asuka-kun and Takato-kun did great as well. They grew into fine actors. Board member A: Speaking of, Takato-kun no longer belongs to the GOD Troupe? Reni: That is correct. Currently, he's active as a member of the reborn MANKAI Company. Reni: If you would like, I want to introduce you to MANKAI Company's general director, who is in the back right now--. Board member A: I'm sorry, but we actually have a meeting. We will have to leave right away. Reni: Is that so?.... I will send you an invitation to MANKAI Company's next play, then. Board member A: Thank you. Board member B: It would have been nice if Amadate-san had been able to come as well, right? Being a theatre junkie too, he loves collaboration plays like this. Board member A: It appears he's in the middle of a business trip in the countryside, so there was no way around it. Reni: I see.... Board member A: We will be taking our leave, then. Reni: Take care on your way. Reni: (That leaves Syu--) Reni: (He left? I keep telling him to let me say hello, at least. Good grief.)

Izumi: That's a very lavish closing party. Azami: Are the ones here all staff members of the GOD Troupe? Tasuku: Yeah. The closing parties are always like this. Tsuzuru: What an incredible difference to ours. Haruto: Normally, we don't do such flashy things, but it's GOD Troupe's style to go all out when it's to reward the staff and actors. Azami: I want that yakuza to hear this, too. Tasuku: Feels like he'd only consider it after we earn as much as the GOD Troupe does. Azami: Urg. You're right, he totally would. Shift: Azami, the food is really awesome, so you'd better eat a lot. I always take some home in Tupperware. Haruto: You're the top actor; don't do something so miserly! Tsuzuru: Speaking of, there is so much food, I don't even know what to choose from... Izumi: Why don't we try a bit of each for now? Madoka: Hello, Minagi-san. Tsuzuru: Oh, Madoka, hey. Madoka: I wanted to say once more how nice it was to have been able to work alongside you. Thank you. Tsuzuru: The pleasure was mine. I learned a lot, and it was very stimulating. Tsuzuru: Thanks to working with you, I wondered if that was what it is like to have a conversation through a brush. Tsuzuru: For the first time, I experienced the feeling of exchanging ideas and feelings beyond speaking in words. Izumi: (Seems like this was even greater of an experience for Tsuzuru-kun than expected.) Tsuzuru: ....That reminds me. Director, there is something I would like to talk to you about. Tsuzuru: About the play that Hakkaku-san was envisioning - how do you feel about having his grandson help with the script? Tsuzuru: While working on the script with him this time, there were of course his skills, but it was also really easy do to. Tsuzuru: On top of the written interaction between Hakkaku-san and Madoka that would be born, I think it'd make Hakkaku-san happy that Madoka is writing for it. Izumi: Indeed, that might be a pretty good idea. Tsuzuru: Well, it all depends on Madoka, though. Madoka: --Of course, please let me do it. Madoka: If I could experience the ideas of the grandfather that I respected and work on writing a script for my brother, it would make me very happy, too. Tsuzuru: Great. Izumi: (Looks like Tsuzuru-kun was able to become friends with someone great to consult with. He did say that he didn't yet have the confidence to put what Hakkaku-san entrusted us with into shape.) Izumi: (But I'm sure it will work out with such a reassuring colleague like Madoka by his side.)

Host: The next number is--number 25! If you have a bingo, please come up! Shift: So, Haruto-san? Got one? Haruto: Not at all. Shift: Oh, you're one number away! If a 23 or 67 is called-- Haruto: I've never managed to get a win before, so it'll be a bust anyway. Shift: Eh, as I thought, you usually don't win at this stuff, hm? Tasuku: I've received stuff like a TV and a microwave. Shift: Seriously!? Haruto: You-...you usually play dirty. Also, stop showing off yer muscles by only wearin' short sleeves in the practice room! Izumi: Showing off muscles.... Tasuku: Haruto really is a pain when he's drunk... Izumi: And he's the type whose dialect slips out when he gets drunk, isn't he? Tasuku: He also gave me his real name, Yamada Genta, himself while he was intoxicated. Host: The next number is--23! Shift: Oh, Haruto-san, Bingo! Haruto: Huh? Shift: You've got a Bingo! Go up front! Haruto: Really...? Reni: Congratulations. Here is your prize. Haruto: Thank you. Reni: Ah, right. After the Bingo game, wait at the entrance for me. Haruto: --I will! Shift: Haruto-san, lead actor power! Azami: Congrats. Madoka: How great. Shift: What was your prize? Haruto: Erm...an eletronic kettle... Haruto: Sigh...you take it. Shift: Eh!? You sure!? Haruto: I've already got one. I can't possibly replace that, right? Shift: I can use it for cup udon! Haruto: Listen when other people talk!

Host: That concludes the Bingo tournament! Haruto: --

Haruto: ..... Reni: Sorry for calling you out here. Haruto: D-, don't be! Reni: I wanted to continue our conversation from the other day. About my coaching methods having changed... Reni: The main cause was that I realised my real feelings that were dormant within me. Reni: For a long time, I was obsessed, and I didn't have the room to properly consider anything but the members of my own theatre company. I failed as a chairman. Haruto: That's--you are my life, Reni-san! Haruto. --I, I'm sorry. I will mind my words. Reni: That's also a facade you put up, right? From now on, you don't have to hide it needlessly unless you’re on stage. Reni: ....You know that Tachibana, the father of MANKAI Company's general director, and I are old friends, right? Haruto: Yes. Reni: Even after I set up the GOD Troupe, I kept being influenced by Tachibana without realising it. Reni: Because of that, my field of vision became narrower, and my attention shifted to the individuality and variety each actor possessed　and I dared to avoid making use of that. Reni: Rather than the talent that Tachibana was blessed with, he emphasised making use of what each actor was born with and making them bloom "like" on a stage. Reni: I was against Tachibana's way of doing things and quit MANKAI Company. And therefore, I persisted with denying Tachibana's methods. Reni: If the GOD Troupe would succeed that way, I figured I'd be able to rank above Tachibana. Reni: ...But I was wrong. You guys made me realise that with your play. Reni: Tachibana's way was right. That's why I was enchanted by the man of the theatre named Tachibana Yukio. Reni: I had just intended to pursue my own ideals, but in the end, I am a merciless man who depends on one person. Reni: ...Are you disenchanted? Haruto: Na--no! Even then, I like the ideals you pursue. Haruto: As for my life as an actor, it will never change the fact that you are my greatest benefactor. Reni: Right...If I recall correctly, you broke away from your hometown in order to become an actor, right? Reni: Actors express something for the entire audience-- There is truth to it, but it's also part masquerade. Reni: Among the audience, there might also be one person whom you really want to reach. Who is that to you? Why do you continue acting? Haruto: At first, that was definitely my mother. Haruto: (She was very opposed to my moving to the capital, but even then, I'm sure she must have had great expectations for my future...) Haruto: (She must have also wanted to get back at all of those back in our hometown who knew that I wanted to become an actor and made fun of it.) Haruto: (After I'd entered the theatre company, I also discovered a rival that I absolutely did not want to lose against. But...) Reni: And now? Haruto: It's Reni-san. Haruto: Ever since Tasuku was in the GOD Troupe... Haruto: I was always wavering between a feeling of definitely surpassing him one day, and a feeling of possibly being no match for his talent. Haruto: This time, I lost sight of the meaning behind me continuing as an actor when I experienced my own powerlessness while once again being jealous of Tasuku's skills. Haruto: But, even if I can't win against the "real deal", I want to repay you and the GOD Troupe for the rest of my life. Haruto: That I'm going to continue with acting is for the sake of expressing my gratitude for being able to meet you and the GOD Troupe. Haruto: I want to make the superior ensemble that is the GOD Troupe eternal. Haruto: Being far from the world I dreamed of, I came to Tokyo with longing and met the GOD Troupe, which felt like my only destiny among many theatre companies. Haruto: The vague longing to go to a beautiful dream world has turned into a firm vow to carry on in/with the GOD Troupe. Haruto: So no matter what happens, I will never leave the GOD Troupe, I will never leave under Reni-san. Reni: --. Reni: ...During this time's rehearsals, I felt a little envious of Tachibana. Reni: While working on the conception with Tachibana's daughter, I felt a sensitivity within her that was close to Tachibana's. Reni: I'm sure that she must have inherited something akin to the theatre spirit that Tachibana believed in. Reni: I wished I had someone that could take over after me like that. Haruto: You have me. Reni: ...Yes, indeed. I was reminded of that just now. There is no one but you who could inherit the ideals of the GOD Troupe. Reni: Haruto, carry a strong spirit as an actor. Haruto: I will. Reni: A spirit that I.... The kind of spirit of being an actor that I have acknowledged as the chairman of the first generation of the GOD Troupe. Haruto: --I will engrave that in my memory!

____________________

Chapter 10 | Index

#A3!#A3! Event story #A3! translation #A3 event story #Twin Kingdoms #Act! Addict! Actors!#A3! Twin Kingdoms #God Troupe #Mankai Company #Asuka Haruto #Arakawa Shift #Arakawa Shifuto #Kamikizaka Reni #Takato Tasuku #Izumida Asami #Tachibana Yukio #Godza #my translations #chapter summaries

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thatnamelessbutler · 3 years

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(OoC: So, what's the AU thing about?)

((ooc: Okay so basically I got an idea form a song completely unrelated to the fandom and long story short, Bi n Bu are no longer able to escape from the Egg except through a very specific method, and then Karl comes back along and bippity boppity your body is now our property!

So, yeah. Body-swap AU except Karl kinda dies because to get the swap to work everyone's body had to die. Karl's gets healed afterwards through magical time shenanigans-

So Billiam and Rune(Bu's new name in this AU) wake up in the library, in our current DSMP present, in the weird body of this weird guy who's apparently a weird color-shapeshifter.(yeah, i'm going with the cryptid creature Karl for this one because. it's cool as heck and I never see this anywhere)

a little while after they wake up in the present, karl wakes up after being dormant because he literally died and it's like "HEY WAIT WHAT THE HECK YOU STOLE MY BODY" and everyone else goes "shit shit shit shit"

p.s if you're wondering where hubert is he's dead. the egg killed nearly everyone except billiam and butler because bi is its main caretaker and bu will never leave his side

(more under the cut please there's so much and i actually love this au so much)

Now I'm not a system but I imagine these four(yes, four; Billiam, Rune, Piam(Billiam's Piglin side), and Tune(Bu's Other) operate kind of like one. They have an innerworld and everything, they aren't just all constantly crammed into the front. That would get confusing, stressful and difficult to manage overall. Bu's usually the one fronting because no one else wants to; Billiam doesn't wanna do it because he doesn't wanna mingle with the "poor", Tune doesn't wanna do it because it always gets tripped up with literally everything about the body, it's not even dangerous enough to protect now, and Piam doesn't wanna do it because he's kind of scared of the Overworld someone that doesn't know how to be a Human Person

Oh yeah and I've also talked about all this and more with my bestie so here's a copy-paste of that conversation-

I think an encounter with Sapnap and/or Quackity would go terribly too, until they sit down and explain things as best they can wait no actually "So basically, we killed your fiancée so we could inhabit his body and escape from a really bad situation. sorry" Acid Sapanap would go feral and I can't even begin to conceive what extremely destructive thoughts Quackoty would start having Me MHM Sapnap probably pulls a sword on them and they automatically reach for their own before remembering "Oh shit, we don't have it. OH SHIT-" and then they just gotta r u n Butler's trying desperately to teleport but without a pearl, eeeeeh that's not gonna do anything buddy I'm not sure if Karl has armor in his inventory or not but either way they wouldn't have the time or coordination to equip it Acid they just immediately die it'd be so funny Me "NOT AGAIN, WE JUST GOT FREE- death" Now lets hope either Karl has some extra canon lives, or those lives Billiam bought carry over Acid PFFFFT, BILLIAM'S LIVES GET CARRIED WITH THEM AND IT'S JUST revives ok listen we don't gotta dies revives please let's just dies revives why do you do t dies revives this is just gonna last forever isn't it? dies rev- Me wheeze YEAH "GET OUT OF KARL'S BODY!" "We can't!! It's already been done!! dies" "WHY WON'T YOU DIE!!?" "We are!!??" ohhh, bonus angst points if every time they die, Butler goes a little more dormant- Butler was only meant to have one life, he never got any Totems and his soul cannot take this in the way Billiam's can After about 15 deaths, Billiam gets Sapnap to stop for about five seconds, and in those five seconds he realizes that he can no longer hear or feel Butler Acid oh god Me If he manages to get far enough away and find someplace to hide(perhaps the library again), he dips into the headspace and finds Butler just gone. He looks around for a while and finds them far away from where they were, collapsed on the ground, flickering slightly, and entirely unresponsive. And no matter how much he tries, they just won't wake up, and their Ender half has disappeared completely. He can't do anything except wait for them. Acid fjsjdj oh my god imagine Billiam just goes feral after that he's like "what did you do to m y B u t l e r" and just jumps on Sapnap with his bare hands Me Oh absolutely, he will Murder Sapnap without a second thought and he doesn't care how many deaths he has to go through to do it even though dying more will make it take longer for butler to wake up, and then afterwards he'll be pacing around random areas stress-stimming intensely and waiting for his child to wake up Acid yeap Me Somehow he finds his way to Kinoko Kingdom and is like "oh, this looks like a good place for a walk" and then spends the entire time not actually looking at anything and drowned in anxiety

AND THEN THESE WERE LAST NIGHT'S THOUGHTS, SOMEHOW LATER ON THEY END UP AT SAPNAP'S PLACE CAUSE THEY TECHNICALLY DON'T HAVE A PLACE TO STAY Unless you count the library but I don't think that would be very comfortable-

Anyway, Rune was fronting when they fell asleep and then their chronic nightmares came back. Sapnap wakes up(or was he ever really sleeping?) to some almost animalistic gasping in the other room and runs in to find Karl Karl's body curled on the bed, barely humanoid and random flashes of color spiking over him in waves and clawlike hands digging into his head

So he tries to wake him up, and when he does Bu's first reaction is to scramble away in pure terror because he's not fully out of the nightmare yet, there are even tears running down his face that just get absorbed back into the mass of color. Sapnap tries to calm him down, and eventually succeeds enough to ask him what the hell happened, and who's fronting once he remembers that that is a thing-

Thing is, Bu's gone nonverbal, but hey at least Karl was some sort of shapeshifter so they can just shift blobs of color into the air to answer Sapnap's questions

He very quickly learns only to ask yes/no ones because he can't read Galactic which is the only thing Bu can respond in, but that whole night ends on a pretty good note :3

Acid IS KARL IN THE SYSTEM CANON? HE'D BE THE MAIN FRONTER IF IT IS I THINK Me After that nightmare Rune finds himself trusting Sapnap a little more but also not as able to front, he's just so tired of it. No one else wants to front, he always has to stay there and he never gets a break. At least before, Tune had control during the night and he got to rest some. Now his sleep schedule is just as abhorred as before and no one else even comes near the front. He tries as long as he can, for everyone else's sake, but after weeks of fronting alone he just can't anymore. So he finally leaves the front and just collapses face-first into idk a patch of grass in the innerworld or something, and he's so exhausted of being a person that he can't even think straight, He doesn't want consolation, he doesn't want promises, he doesn't even want cuddles he just wants someone else to take over for a bit. Me OOH MAYBE He wakes up and wanders around the innerworld figuring out what the heck is going on and wondering why he can't see the outside anymore and oh god is he dead, are they all dead maybe they're all dead and none of them know it, and then Rune comes out of front and practically begs to not have to be a person anymore, he tells Karl "please i just want a break, just go out there or get someone else to go out there for a while please" and, well, Karl takes a chance and goes out to front and holy shit is this the real world, holy shit are those his fiancées, holy s h i t Acid THAT'S THE BESR OUTCOME ACTUALLY Me YESSSSSSSSS MASQUERADE SYSTEM + KARL THE MAN HIMSELF JACOBS Acid YESSS Me Karl and Rune are now host and co-host, because. no one else wants to front Acid Karl tricking Billiam into fronting.mp4 Me GSHDFGBSGDHFBSF Rune and Karl lock him into front and Rune proceeds to lean against the nearest flat surface, slide down and then dissociate for the next couple/several hours Karl makes sure no one disturbs him, even if Tune and Piam are Very Worried about their exhausted Human hybrid Acid them taking care of Rune (affectionate)

Acid OK WAIT I WAS THINKING AND IN SYSTEMS PEOPLE USUALLY MANIFEST SO I WAS THINKING HOW THAT'D WORK IN THE MASQUERADE SYS AND I REALIZED THAT EVERYONE IN THERE IS TECHNICALLY DEAD IN A WAY WHAT IF THAT'S THIS AU'S LIMBO? ONE DAY WILBUR POPS UP AND COMMITS MULTIPLE CRIMES AGAINST HUMANITY Me HOLY SHIT OH SHIT EVERYONE THAT PERMA-DIES JUST ENDS UP AS AN ALTER IN KARL'S WEIRD COLOR-SHAPESHIFTING BODY XDDD You can always tell who's fronting by the colors, as long as you actually know them enough to know their colors- Acid Wilbur: hello Quackity, I am BAC- Karl: oh my GOD Wilbur shut the FUCK UP we understand it you're gay now please get out of front I have a date in 10 minutes Acid OOOOO YES Me Like Rune is purple/pink(mainly pink) gray-red/dark purple/orange/green eyes(right/right/left/left, respectively), and then he has some other colors sifting through, like a dark indigo-blue and a yellow the color of Endstone Tune is all of that but some of it is darker(the pinks/purples and Endstone color), some of it's the same(the eyes, except they have a light pink shine over them) and some of it is inverted. Clouds will waft around the body when it's fronting and whenever you look through the clouds you'll see the colors inverted Billiam is solidly pale pink except for his eyes(maroon) and his hands and feet(gold, with veins streaking out and tapering off at about the elbow) Piam is a slightly redder pink, with spots of a Netherrack color here and there, and his gold is more orangey, like there's fire reflecting off of it karl is just. karl. Of course he's got the signature swirls in bright violent and teal but other than that he's just a smorgasbord of color, usually bright and neon. When he's near/thinking about Sapnap and/or Quackity, little hearts start popping off him

#Relyn Records #infodump #ask to tag #i don't know if there are any systems following me but if i got anything wrong please tell me i do not want to slander your name-#anyway i may have accidentally made them a system found-family

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tweedlydumbtweedlydoo · 4 years

Text

For her safety (Elijah Mikaelson) #4

Masterlist: For her safety *in progress

**MASTERLIST**

Requests: {OPEN} CLOSED

I am currently taking requests for:

The Vampire Diaries/The Originals

Elijah Mikaelson

Damon Salvatore

Criminal Minds:

Spencer Reid

Derek Morgan

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That night the rest of her memories came back. The night he killed the vampire that attacked her, when her vision of him had changed. She no longer saw him as the man she loved and saw a future with but a monster. She’d been terrified. It was something straight out of a horror movie and she was not prepared for it. She would have never been able to look at him the same or comprehend the idea of a vampire. Or loving a vampire.

However, now, she was prepared. She knows about vampires, witches, werewolves. She knows everything and she was ready to face Elijah. She had to figure out where he was. New Orleans is a big city, however, she bet they lived somewhere in the Quarter. He mentioned last night they were well respected. She also remembers one of the stories he told her about his family’s little time in New Orleans. He only told her it was a large home located on a side street not far from Bourbon St. So, she pulled herself out of bed, dressed and took to the streets.

It was a beautiful day, not too hot, not too cold, so she didn’t mind walking. It also gave her time to sight see around the Quarter. The colorful buildings huddled together with black iron balconies. She hoped as she walked around something might pop out at her, or if she was lucky, would run into one of the Mikaelson’s.

As she walked down the sidewalk, her eye caught a small poster on the iron post. It looked like an announcement about a charity masquerade party happening tonight. A large M watermarked in the middle. Written in the bottom were the details of the party and under that it said hosted by the Mikaelson’s. Looks like she needed to find her a dress and a mask.

She heard the music before she’d even turned onto the street. She followed a couple through the iron gate that led into a cement hallway and opened into a courtyard. There were people lined along the sidewalk to get into the party, all dressed in suits and extravagant dresses, masks covering their identity.

The courtyard was filled with people. Flashing lights, women swinging from ropes, confetti floating through the room. She glances around. Some people were dancing on the balconies of the two stories above her, some standing around and talking. It was so loud she wondered how they could even hear each other.

She made her way through the crowd of people, stepping up to the bar and ordering her a drink. She wondered which one of these men could be Elijah. Everyone had masks on. There was no way she could find him like this. So, she decided to make a bold move. She would have to make him come to her. She slipped her mask off, throwing it in the trash next to the bar. She took a sip of her drink and glanced around. If he was here, he’d see her. She knows it.

Elijah stood against the railing overlooking the courtyard. He hated these parties his brother Niklaus threw. It wasn’t a normal party but one to keep Niklaus’ vampires happy. Niklaus made the deal with his vampires that there would be no killing in the quarter, but he would throw these elaborate parties where they would invite humans, particularly tourists, feed, heal and compel them. Elijah didn’t like the idea, but he knew it was keeping the vampires under control. It was a way to tell the difference in the rebellious vampires and the ones who were allies to the Mikaelson’s. If a body shows up, they know where to look first; Gavin the leader of the rebellious vampires. He was the one after the Mikaelson’s “kingdom” aka New Orleans.

Niklaus walks up next to him, leaning against the railing, “I received word from a friend that he spotted Jane Deveraux practicing magic around a woman.”

Elijah glances at his brother, “Is that so?” He wonders if he’s talking about her reversing the compulsion on y/n.

“Yes. And it’s a funny thing, he also told me of a woman you met with. He described a woman who sounded much like y/n. And she was the same woman that Jane Deveraux met with.”

Elijah now turns and faces his brother, “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

Niklaus nods, “Yes well, what is the coincidence that Jane Deveraux, the witch who’s been thought to reverse compulsion meets with y/n, the woman you so loved and compelled to forget us years ago, and then is later seen with you at Rousseaux’s?”

“Oh, brother, your friend must be mistaken. Y/n is in Mystic Falls. Must have been a woman who favored her.”

Niklaus chuckles, putting his hand on his brother’s shoulder, “Ah yes. Well now you must be the one mistaken because y/n is not in Mystic Falls. She’s standing in my courtyard by the bar.” He turns his brother to face the courtyard and points at y/n.

Sure enough, there stood y/n by the bar without a mask. He warned her to return home and here she stands in the middle of a party, a party full of hungry vampires who will make a meal out of any human in this courtyard when the clock strikes midnight. He looks at the clock on the wall across from him, 11:59 pm.

The clock sounds when it hits midnight and it’s like a feeding frenzy down below. Vampires sinking their teeth into any available human. The screams are masked by the music coming from the DJ. When he looks back at the bar, y/n is no where to be found.

His eyes scan the crowd, panicked a vampire has already made a meal out of her, but he spots her by the exit. Using his vampire speed, he runs to her just before another vampire gets to her. “She’s mine!” Elijah yells, the vampire stops and finds another human to feed on. Elijah pushes her against the wall and puts his mouth to her neck.

Y/n stood by the bar when the clock struck midnight. Then the place went crazy. The whole room was filled with vampires. People were screaming, running around. She knew she had to get out of here and headed for the exit. However, before she could get to the exit she was pushed against the wall, a voice yelling, “She’s mine!” She waited for the teeth to pierce her skin, but it never came. Only hot breath against her neck.

“Don’t worry love, I’m not going to hurt you.” That voice. She didn’t have to see his face to know who it was. Suddenly, she was whisked away and into a room.

“What the hell was that!” She motions to the door, “It was like a-like a feeding frenzy!”

Elijah shuts the door to the room and faces her, “Sit down please. I’ll explain everything.”

She crosses her arms over her chest, staying put.

“Fine. Don’t sit down.” He begins explaining everything about the party, why they throw it, what those vampires were doing; feed, heal, compel.

She slowly sits down on the bed, taking it all in, “So let me get this straight, you lure people into your extravagant parties, just to feed on them?”

“Yes. Well, Niklaus and his little minions do. I don’t take part in the party.” He clears his throat and takes a seat next to her on the bed, “I told you to leave last night, yet you didn’t listen.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t want too.” She mumbles.

“You’ve always been stubborn.” He chuckles softly, which causes her to look up at him with a small smile. He takes this moment to push a piece of hair behind her hair, “Why didn’t you leave?”

“Always and forever. You promised that night in Paris.” She leans into his touch, “You promised to love and protect me always and forever.”

He runs his thumb over her bottom lip, and he contemplates kissing her, “I meant every word.”

Her eyes look between his lips and his eyes, “I know. And I still mean what I said that night.” She moves closer to him, his face within inches of hers. “I love you too. Always and forever.”

His hand moves to the back of her head and he pulls her to him, his lips pressing against hers. Their lips moved together in sync like they never forgot each other. Three years apart yet it was like they had never been without each other.

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#elijah mikaelson #Elijah Mikaelson fanfiction #elijah mikaelson fanfic #elijah mikaelson imagine #elijah mikaelson imagines #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikaelson x y/n #elijah mikaelson x #elijah mikaelson x you #the originals #the originals fanfiction #the originals imagines

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justasparkwritings · 3 years

Text

Codename Cupid: Chapter 21

Previous: Codename Black Panther

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x OFC

Genre: Secret AgentAU, Government AgentAU, Smut Lite

Rating: PG17

Word Count: 2.9K

Warnings: Swearing, Grinding, Making Out

Summary: Lee Euna receives a startling message and goes to the one person she assumes will have the answers, or at least, an explanation.

(uhhh didn’t know it was going to be this long)

The Final Notice

Present Day

The note said they’d be meeting me face to face, but months have passed, and I am sitting here, waiting. Waiting for a sign, for another note, for someone to be sitting in my living room when I return home, for a dead rabbit to appear in my pasta pot, Jungkook to be taken for ransom, literally anything. And yet, nothing has happened. No note or call.

I’ve increased surveillance on Taehyung, the only one who seems to connect some of these men, and by a stroke of pure genius, put a tracker on his car and Namjoon’s, as well as a few bugs in their apartment. There’s only so many times you can send flowers with a vague card, and a listening device embedded within the glass. Who gets rid of vases? Hopefully not these men.

I’ve learned few things in my listening, namely that I am correct. The men are connected. Taehyung and Jimin are best friends and spend an innumerable number of hours together. They also spend time with Namjoon, who I think, if I’m correct, knows Hoseok. Hobi is a nickname for Hoseok, right? And if not, I’m fucked. They’ve added a new person to their discussion, someone they call Black Panther, who sounds like a right pain in the ass. All they do is bitch about how they’re constantly on call to deal with Black Panther’s mess, that Black Panther is getting in their way and in turn, ruining all plans. They speak in some code I don’t know, and I don’t know how to crack it. What I’m more startled by, is the fact that they continue to call this mystery person black panther, who calls a friend Black Panther? That’s like, cultural appropriation lite?

It’s not, I’m kidding. It’s totally not.

When I put it all the information together, Black Panther out of the equation because I have no idea who it is, it doesn’t amount to much. Names and addresses, a few yelp reviews, and nothing more. My gut is telling me there’s something here, something more than what Euna believes. Hoseok showing up in Genevieve’s photos, the trio going out to dinner, the mysterious note with the water mark, it has to add up to something. That and they keep mentioning the 7 of them, when the 7 of them are together, they’ll make sense of it, when the 7 of them are all clued in, they can handle Black Panther. Is Black Panther not their seventh member?

The door to my office slams open, and a disgruntled Euna stomps in, lily white, tears cascading through her foundation.

“Euna, what a sur-

“Did you know about this?” She demands, shoving a picture in my face.

“What?”

“They know each other!” She yells.

The photo, a polaroid, of Min Yoongi, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung and Kim Namjoon. I’ve never seen them all together, Euna was right, they are despicably pretty.

“How in your world did you not figure out that they know each other?”

“I-

“They look pretty fucking chummy to me!”

“Euna, please, sit, let’s chat,” I stand to get her a water, which she yanks out of my hand and tosses down her throat.

“Have you been withholding information?” Her voice has simmered, the bubbles of discontent slowly rising to the surface but never popping.

All I can do is sigh and shrug my shoulders. Lying is not going to work, she’s paying me enough to give her one of my unused eggs, the least I can do is be honest with her.

“That’s unfair, I could demand money back for your deception,” Euna says.

“I have withheld information on the basis that I need more time to connect the dots,” I start. “This is season 1 of The Wire and I’m fucking McNulty asking for more time to put the wire up. These men, Euna,” I exhale again, “It’s not linear, I can’t just plot them and see the whole picture. It’s much more complicated than that.”

“Explain,”

“All of it?”

“Yes, all of it, you think I want to fucking understand parts of it?” Valid question.

“Fine. It starts sometime when Kim Namjoon was sixteen, I’m not sure what that something is, but that’s the beginning of it. He was a prodigy, renowned in mathematics and rhetoric, short listed for a Nobel Prize by fifteen. After Namjoon, it moves to you and Seokjin, which leads to you and Yoongi, Jun-Seo and Jimin. Finally, it all ends up at Taehyung and whatever happened there,” I glance at her, hoping she’ll tell me if the supposed abortion was from him or someone else. “Somehow Jung Hoseok winds up at Lee Enterprise’s Masquerade, and Kim Namjoon comes back into the picture as a friend of Jimin and Taehyung’s.”

“Jung Hoseok has taken Kwan on a few dates,”

“Are they still seeing each other?”

“No. That’s all you’ve got?”

“I’ve got more, but I’m not sure it’s going to help you understand this anymore than you already do.” I don’t move to open any files on my computer or pull up any surveillance, Euna doesn’t need that, that information won’t help her in any way understand what these men have in common.

“Does this make sense to you?” She asks.

“It’s all,” I sigh, “fits and starts.”

“Why am I paying you?”

“Euna, you have given me an already impossible job, and then added more impossible tasks on top of that. I have found all of these men, I have addresses, I have occupations and locations of current employment for five out of seven. I’ve done a fucking good job on something that should truly be solved by a governing body, not a P.I. who bought thirty dollar’s worth of Indian food and ate it over five days because I couldn’t afford to buy more. I’ve used all my resources, called in favors, spied, tiptoed on the brink of impropriety in order to get you results. I’ve done a damn good job.”

Glowering, her voice is impenetrable, “Then why can’t you find Min Yoongi?”

“That man has erased himself from the internet, completely, from every website, every search, he’s just gone.” Exasperatedly, I throw my hands in the air as my voice rises. How many times can I explain this to her?

“He’s alive though,” She counters.

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean I can pinpoint him,” I grit my teeth and stand, pacing slowly around my office, her voice trailing behind me as I move.

“He’s really,” She pauses, “Out of any of them, Y/N, he’s the one.”

I run my hand through my hair before pulling at the strands and aggressively knotting it in a ponytail, the anger feeding into the heat of my body and I shed my sweatshirt. A sweatshirt, with a line drawing of a uterus, that my mother refused to buy me for my birthday so I spent $90 on it myself. I know Euna hates it, but it’s my office and I didn’t know she’d be popping in today in her Dior terrycloth jumpsuit. If I did, I would’ve at least put on a J.Crew sweatshirt and leggings that don’t have wax on them from making crayon art with the kids I used to nanny.

“I know, Euna. I know he’s important, I know he’s the one that got away, I know he’s the white whale of this whole investigation. But Euna, he-

In the middle of my breath, the door opens again creating a space for Jungkook to saunter in. He’s parted his hair, a little off center, and hasn’t put in any product leaving the tendrils to fall softly framing his face. His locks are still long adjacent, and his left hand is using his sweater paw to hold a scalding beverage. His eyebrows are sloped, a genuine look of concern reflecting into my irises. The relief I feel cascading over me, of familiarity, of home, nearly bulldozes me into him.

“Cricket, I brought you some,” His voice trails as he takes in my client. “Coffee.”

“Oh thank god,” I whisper. Taking the cup from him, my eyes apologetic as I fall gracelessly into his open arms. The scent of his shampoo and cologne swirl in my nose, relaxing my senses. Nothing smells as sexy as Jungkook. No one looks as sexy as Jungkook does, no matter what he’s wearing, no matter the time of day or night. NSYNC put it best when they sang “god must’ve spent a little more time on you”, because whoever arranged the chromosomes and bone structure within Jungkook truly made a masterpiece. As the kids would say, he’s a whole ass meal. Jungkook keeps a hand splayed on my back while he turns back to Euna. He scans her up and down, no doubt assessing the level of danger she’s presenting.

“Who are you?” Euna snaps.

“This is my boyfriend, he was just dropping off some coffee,” I answer. The arm around his waist squeezes a little tighter, my head still resting against his chest.

“Do I know you?” She wonders.

“Me?” Jungkook asks.

“Yes, you, who else?”

He looks from me to her and back again, “Uh.” He shakes his head.

“You look so familiar,” She eyes him cautiously, “You’re Korean?”

“Uh, yeah,” His affirmation causes a twinkle in her eye, a recognition that if she wanted, she could use the powers at her fingertips to find his life story, overturn any

“Hmm,” She scans him again. “Are you leaving?”

“Oh, yeah sorry to interrupt,” Jungkook quickly glances at me, mouth moving to form SORRY as he scurries out the door. I hate when he leaves.

“Don’t fall in love with Korean men, they’ll ruin your life,” Euna sits back down, tossing back some of her water before looking back at the photo.

“Was something else left? A note maybe?” I hope this will move her back to the topic at hand, the photo in question and whomever left it, not my relationship.

“Yes, there was,” She reaches into her purse and oh how I wish she had gloves on. The note reads like the last one I received, rhyming and all.

“You’re looking too hard / We’ve been in plain sight / Stop looking for us / Or we’ll turn out your light,” I read. “Wow, premeditated violence.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Euna’s gone back to panic, eyes wild and cheeks red.

“It means they’ve been in front of us this whole time, as in, we’ve overlooked them,” I clarify.

“How could you have overlooked them?”

“I’m not the only one, Euna, you have maybe overlooked them too. Maybe it’s a larger commentary on your persona in a relationship.”

“My persona in a relationship? What would you know of that?”

“I know what you’ve told me, and I know what I’ve seen through our interactions. No one is perfect,” I’m trying to soften this, but she’s truly living up to Dae-Seong in her blind rage.

“Don’t try and compare your relationship to the heartache I have endured!”

“Euna, I’m not,” The exasperation cannot be more pronounced as I roll my eyes and sigh heavily.

“Your boyfriend, does what? How do you know he isn’t involved with these bastards?”

“I don’t,” My honesty cuts her off, eyes widening slightly at my levelheaded response. Her pause gives me worry, what is she thinking?

“Well, what do we do with these?” She shifts in the tension I’m brewing, I’m unsure what the solution is.

“I can spend the afternoon trying to trace it, I can fingerprint the note and see what comes up, if anything,” I offer.

“Will something?” A glimmer of hope, the worst emotion to ever contain or blossom in the human mind.

“Probably not, whoever these men are, they are far too good to be caught doing whatever it is they’re doing.”

“We need them all, all six,” Euna demands.

“What do you want from them?” The thousandth time it leaves my lips, it’s complete insanity. This will never change.

“What every woman wants,” She broods.

“Euna, I don’t know what that is,” I’m sinking lower into my chair with every syllable.

“Those who ask don’t get to know,” Abruptly she’s standing and leaving, belongings gathered in one hand, feet stomping heavily into the aged hardwood.

Ah, another hint at her upbringing.

I’m moving slowly through my apartment, Jungkook already sitting on the couch looking deeply cozy in his favorite grey sweats and a sweatshirt with a famous swoosh emblezaned across his chest. Dinner, pizza, is on its way, and a very large glass of prosecco sits waiting for me. I in turn am tossing off my bra, a sight Jungkook is audibly upset by, and coming to sit on the couch, in his embrace.

“I couldn’t leave, she was mad, I was worried about you,” He tells me, his lips pressing to my forehead repeatedly. “I didn’t know if she was going to hurt you.”

“About me? Bunny I’m okay, she doesn’t scare me, at least not physically,” I reply, my lips pressing against his neck in recognition of his vulnerability.

“I didn’t know if she was going to hurt you,”

“Bunny,” I sit up, turning my head to his.

“Cricket,” His eyes move from mine to my lip, his thumb coming to swipe over the bitten cherry of my lower lip.

“I love you, thank you for worrying about me,” I tell him, leaning in to kiss him, his soft, well moisturized lips making up for the bruised state of mine.

“I love you too,” He hesitates, his lips starting to say something but stopping.

“Jungkook?”

“I also found, this,” He pulls out a note, the watermark distinguishable against the light.

In black ink, a date and time is printed, and underneath:

Roses are red / Violets are blue / It’s time for us to meet / We’re ready, are you?

“What does this mean?” Jungkook asks.

“It means that, that I’m meeting with someone who may or may not want something from me, or maybe will hurt me. So just, be prepared.”

“What’s the one promise you made me make when we first started dating?” He pulls me back into his embrace, but I catch the sadness in his eyes.

“Aren’t we still in that honeymoon phase?” I want to lighten the mood and not focus on the way my heart is hurting. I never thought I would be the one concerned about not coming home, having Jungkook panicking over my safety.

I don’t like it, like at all.

“Absolutely, I think we’ll always be in that phase, but Y/N, please answer the question,” His arms tighten around my waist, another kiss to my temple, replaced by his soft cheek.

“If you’re not coming home, tell me. If something is going to jeopardize you coming back to me, you have to let me know,” I quote myself.

“So, if you are going to jeopardize your safety, Y/N, Cricket, my beloved, you gotta tell me. Let me follow you or drop a pin, or use Find My Friends so I can check up on you,” Jungkook rattles off all the apps with ease, a feat I find slightly concerning.

“I don’t want you to –

“No, no arguing.” His voice is curt, his words definite.

“Okay,”

“I love you, Cricks, and I don’t ever want to imagine anything happening to you.”

“I know Bunny,” If I could burrow into him, I would. His embrace is my safe place, my weighted blanket after a panic attack, fuck during a panic attack.

I have to come home to him. Whatever this note entails, it doesn’t matter. Torture me, harm me, beat me up, put me in the hospital, it doesn’t matter so long as when I wake up, or am lucky enough to walk away, I can come through that fucking front door to Jungkook.

“You didn’t say it back,” He teases.

Rolling my eyes dramatically, squirming intentionally in his grasp so that I can lock eyes again, I sigh. “I love you too.”

“Don’t act like that when you’d do the same to me!” He begins tickling me, and I feel beyond grateful for his duality.

“Stop it! Stop it! You’re right, okay!”

Giggling, his “I know,” is coupled with a kiss. He moves swiftly through my laughter to take my bottom lip between his teeth, tongue swiping over the indentations of his teeth before meeting mine. His hands, under my top and massaging my overheating flesh, pull me closer to him. I tug his locks as a moan escapes my lips, swallowed by his own groan as I reach my hand to palm him over his pants.

“Cricket,” He groans.

“Bunny,” I reply.

He pulls away, pushing my torso down onto him, where my hips happily grind against him.

“Lock and key?” He whispers, eyes refusing to close as he attempts to restrain himself from giving into the feeling of my heated core over his.

“God we’re that couple now?” I stop my ministrations, staring at his features. How did I get so lucky?

“Haven’t we always been?” He cocks an eyebrow, and I’m surprised he hasn’t mustered a ‘what’ to accompany the gesture.

“I guess,” I roll my eyes, which he greets with a thrust of his hips.

“Lock and key,” He repeats, hand behind my head, holding my gaze to his.

“You and me,” I answer, the smile on my lips finding his again.

Next: Cricket & OT7

6 notes · View notes

blazerina · 4 years

Text

Hundreds of Tomorrows - (Mal x MC) - Blades of Light & Shadows

Hundreds of Tomorrows

Word Count: 3053

A/N: This is a little thing that I picture starting and happening before Nia, Tyril and MC (Raine) go behind the glass wall where only those with magic can pass. This was from chapter 11 (I think?) when they’re in the catacombs. I’m not very good at remembering details from the chapters.

I took a few liberties to change up what exactly happened behind the wall so it’s not exactly in line with the rest of BOLAS (please don’t hate me or send me messages about how wrong I am). Also, I freaking LOVE Threep and his banter/relationship with Mal.

This story comes at the request of @choicesobsessed who sent a prompt for “Is that blood? ...No?” from a prompt list I posted a while ago. It fit perfectly with this idea I already had so ta-da!

Hope everyone reading this is doing well and staying safe! Please enjoy!

xoxo

“Kit, a word please?” Mal said inquisitively, his eyebrow raised in mock curiosity. He motioned for Raine to follow him to a more secluded area.

“Keep your voice down.” He instructed as Raine followed him.

“Keep my voice down?” She questioned.

“You do realize the rest of the group is right over there…”

Mal sighed in agitation.

“Okay then, m’lady, let’s talk behind this here rock. Is that better?”

The two of them circled around a rather large boulder that was still not much further from the group.

“Oh much. Much better.” She smirked. “What’s your deal? We don’t have a lot of time and we need to check out what’s behind that magic wall.”

“Are you sure about this?” Mal asked, searching her eyes for the truth. “I mean like, really, totally, 100% sure?”

“Sure about what?” Raine asked, confused.

“Going behind the magic wall with only elf-boy to protect you? I don’t think it’s safe.” Mal cut right to the point.

“Ooohhh….” Raine teased. “I see what this is about…”

She folded her arms in front of her chest and leaned back against the rock that was supposedly concealing their conversation.

“Nothing. It’s not about anything.” Mal squinted his eyes in frustration, stumbling a little bit and working very hard to make his point. He didn’t want to be obvious, but apparently he was failing miserably.

“Mmhmm.” Raine scoffed. “Listen, I don’t only have Tyril to protect me. Nia is coming and so is Threep.”

“Raine.”

Mal looked down his nose at her, wishing she would realize this was actually not a time to joke. For him to be serious meant it really indeed was…serious.

“You cannot be serious. You think that cat-bat is going to be able to save you?”

“He is a nesper, Mal, not a cat-bat. You really need to stop calling him that. And I don’t know why you’re wasting my time right now.”

She stood up straighter, ready to confront him.

“We will be safe. Everything is fine. You’re acting this way mainly because you don’t want to be left here with Imtura AND you’re afraid of missing out on adventure. You’re upset that you’re not being included.”

Mal’s mouth hung open ready to protest, but Raine quickly closed the space between them kissed him on the cheek. She lingered a little bit and whispered in his ear.

“But I do think it’s awfully cute you’re so protective of me.”

She pulled away, looking him in the eye and giving him a quick wink, before walking away.

“Raine!”

Mal called out.

“Wait!”

She turned around, shoulders slumped, groaning in frustration. “What is it now?!”

“Just, be careful. Please. I…I don’t like not going in there with you…if anything happened – I – I –“

Raine stopped joking around, once she realized the serious tone Mal was using.

“Don’t worry – I’ll come back to you.” She nodded, confirming what she just said.

Raine then jogged towards Nia and Tyril who were waiting at the entrance to the wall.

“Look lover boy, I know that you’re smitten with our very own land rat, but you have got to calm down.”

Imtura was perched on top of a large black rock while Mal paced nervously back and forth in front of her, tossing a small pebble up and down.

“If you don’t stop tossing that ridiculous little rock, I’m going to smash you one more time into that magic wall and leave you for dead.”

Mal ignored her, continued pacing, but did at least stop tossing the rock.

“See here – there’s one thing that us sneaky humans have over your orc tribe. We have this sixth sense. This gut feeling about things. And I’m telling you something’s not right about all this. Any of this…it’s just really, really messed up…”

Mal was suddenly distracted looking deep into the eyes of a half-charred statue looking rock that had grabbed his attention.

“I mean, what the hell is that? This is not normal.” He said as he gestured to the piece of art he found.

“Nothing about this is normal. Pull your head out of your arse, boy. Look around you – has anything we’ve experienced the past few weeks been normal?

If you’re looking for normal you best leave now because it’s only going to get weirder if you ask me…” Imtura spat, picking something out of her jowls.

Mal mad a face, clearly disgusted by her behavior. “You’re one of a kind, you know that, Im?”

He wiped his hands along the front of his vest, suddenly feeling dirty. He huffed loudly as he plopped down on the ground.

“When are they going to be baaaack?!” He whined, keeping his eyes closed. “This is the worst!”

“That’s them. Mal!” Imtura was laughing, happy to see the rest of their crew. “They’re alive. They made it. Here they come!”

Threep was leading the crew, actually using his wings to fly, and hovering a little bit in front of everyone.

“Mal before you see her you need to know that…”

“I am fine!” Raine called from the back of the group leaning on Tyril and limping a bit. She was holding her side and trying her best not to grimace.

“Raine? What happened? Is she okay? Are you okay?”

Tyril gingerly helped Raine to sit down, Nia followed and tried to console Mal.

“She really is fine, Mal. I can heal her, don’t worry. I just need a moment…”

“Is that blood?!” Mal asked, pointing to Raine’s side where a dark spot had begun to form beneath her hands.

“…No?” Raine lied, not wanting to upset him.

“Why is everyone more worried about Mal than the actual person who is injured?!” Threep squawked still flying above everyone else.

“Fix her. Fix her now.” Mal ordered, looking at Nia. “Do it. Let’s go – why are we waiting around?”

“I don’t want her to.” Raine’s voice was raised slightly and forceful.

“We do need to make a decision. We got what we came for, it’s time we head back. The longer we are here the longer we are in danger.” Tyril explained, adding pressure to the current situation.

“Mal – calm down.” Raine hissed, through gritted teeth, obviously in pain. “We need to get out of here. I don’t want Nia wasting life on me and I know I can make it. Let’s go.”

Mal tried to protest but Raine shot him down immediately with a cold and hard stare.

He resigned himself to the fact that Raine was not changing her mind.

“Let me help…” he tried to loop her arm around his shoulder, but Raine was stubborn.

“Raine – are you sure?” Tyril asked one final time.

Nia was nervously biting her lip, Imtura was staying quiet and Threep was nosing through Raine’s bag while the rest of them looked to one another to make a decision.

“Too bad jerky doesn’t make you feel better like it does me.” He chuckled, his head popping up out of the bag with a mouthful.

The entire group swiveled their heads to scowl at him.

Threep began to nervously laugh as he lowered himself back into the bag. “Wrong time to joke?” He asked, retreating quickly.

“Why does everyone keep asking if I’m sure?” Raine growled. “First Mal, now you, Tyril. Have I ever not known my own mind?”

“Don’t answer that.” Threep instructed from inside Raine’s bag. Imtura had taken ownership of the satchel so that Raine wouldn’t be saddled with it.

The group walked in silence most of the way back to the Starfury house. Everyone was exhausted from the information they had found out about Kaya and the news they’d now be looking for a shard at the masquerade the next day. It seemed as though this troupe would never know a moment of rest – they continued on from one adventure to another in their quest against the Shadow Court.

Once they arrived at the manor, it was without question that each one of them would retire to their quarters in order to sleep well and rest before the ball. Without saying a word, all of them with the exception of Raine, communicated with each other, proving their trust and reliance on their teammates.

Imtura checked on Threep once more before handing the bag to Mal and telling everyone goodnight. Tyril nodded as he passed Raine over to him as well.

“She’s all yours.” He muttered under his breath.

“Raine, be well. I’m just down the hall if you need anything.” Nia cooed, almost prancing along the way to her room.

“I’ll take it from here.” Mal nodded, standing behind Raine.

She turned to look at him and arched an eyebrow. “What exactly are you taking where?”

“Lead the way, kit. I’m just gonna make sure you’re all tucked in, then you’ll be rid of me.”

Once to her room, Mal helped Threep out of the bag, accepting his content purring as thanks.

“Yeah yeah, calm down you crossbreed.” Mal stood up and waited by the door for Raine to get settled.

She was sitting on the edge of the bed, still holding her side.

“I’m not going to ask about it because I quite like my head being attached to my body…” Mal began.

Raine tried not to smile but she couldn’t help it. Being alone with Mal always made her feel better.

“I’ll be leaving you alone now if you’re all right. Did the bleeding actually stop?” He questioned, opening the door, about to leave.

“I’m not sure.” Raine said softly, suddenly preoccupied with the hem of her shirt. “I think…I think I need your help.”

“I’m sorry. What was that? Not sure I heard you correctly. Did you say you…you need my help?” Mal teased, closing the door and moving closer to her on the bed.

“Mal. Now isn’t the time. This is hard for me.” Raine answered, truthfully.

“Ah. Forgive me – it’s a real bucket of rainbows and sunshine for me right now too.” He tried to joke, sitting down next to her on the bed.

Silence hung in the air heavy and weighted as they stared stoically at one another. She looked at him and cursed herself for making him feel bad when all he was trying to do earlier was show he cared. He looked at her hoping she would one day understand just what she meant to him.

Clearing his throat, his voice weak and coming out more like a hoarse whisper, Mal asked, “What, um…what can I help you with? What do you need?”

“I need you to look at the wound and see if the bleeding has stopped.” Rain responded, snapping out of her silent reverie.

Her mind had suddenly travelled to the memory of Mal’s lips on hers and their skin touching together, the fire it created. This fire was not like the magic she was learning to make; it was different. Hotter. Deeper. Less fleeting. More substantial and real.

Mal nodded as Raine pulled her shirt up slightly, to reveal a small gash about an inch and a half long. The bleeding had stopped, and it didn’t appear to be deep but Mal could not know for sure.

“It’s no longer bleeding but that is the only thing I’m certain of.” He held her hand now, trying his best to be soft and caring.

“Do you have medicine?” He asked, suddenly standing up. “In your bag, the salve you’ve made before. Do you have any of it left?”

Raine was struggling to stay awake, so tired and fatigued from the day’s events and now weak due to her injury. She mumbled something as her eyes started to close.

“Raine! Raine. Stay with me for just a little bit longer.” Mal was pulling item after item out of Raine’s bag.

“A stinger? You saved this from the Drakna?” He asked, completely dumbfounded as he pulled more and more random things from her satchel.

“Good gods you can hold a lot of stuff in here!” Mal smiled, looking at her now laying down on the bed.

“Huzzah! I found it!” He shouted triumphantly and held the small bottle up above his head as though it was the most sought-after treasure in the land.

Proud of himself, he sat down next to her on the bed as she was still fighting sleep.

“C’mere girl. Just hold still. That’s it.”

He softly applied the cream to her injury, rubbing around the edges as tenderly as his calloused fingers would allow.

“I’m sorry if it hurts.” He whispered, watching her face for any reaction. Her eyes were closed, and her breathing was steady.

Finding an old piece of cloth in her bag, Mal poured more of the salve on the rag and was able to tie it off around Raine’s small waist. She was quiet and compliant.

“I don’t know that I’ve ever seen you stay completely silent before, kit. It’s kind of nice.” He mocked, drawing a big smile from the girl.

“Mal. That’s enough. Thank you. I’m quite settled now.”

He was now going through some drawers in a large armoir found in the corner of Raine’s room. Finding what he was looking for he tossed a long white nightgown on the bed.

“This’ll do. You need to change – I won’t look.”

“Yes, you will.” Raine challenged. “I wasn’t born yesterday, you know.”

“You’re probably right…” He scratched his chin, deep in thought about what he might see if he kept his eyes open.

Snapping himself out of it, he continued.

“…but here, I’ll help and then when you need me too I’ll look away. I promise.” He said those last two words with a sincerity Raine wasn’t sure existed in him.

“As I’ve said before, you do continue to surprise me, Mal the Rogue.”

Raine chuckled lightly, pulling the shirt she was wearing over her head. She winced a bit and Mal assisted as best he could, closing his eyes and turning his head away when she disrobed completely.

Mal helped her back into bed having turned down the covers, letting her head settle on two pillows, getting her under the blankets and stuffing her in tight.

Threep was out like a light in the corner, snoring loudly. Mal made note of it but decided against a comment, trying instead to focus all his attention on Raine.

“Thank you.” She whispered, looking up at him before her eyes closed for the night. “For all of this. I don’t deserve it after the way I treated you, today. Really.”

“Now, now. I’m sure I’ll find a way for you to make it up to me sometime soon.”

She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. “Will you stay with me, please?” She mumbled, falling into a rhythmic sleep almost immediately.

“Yes!” Mal fist pumped instinctively, getting what he had hoped for.

He said a silent prayer of thanks to the gods and walked around the bed to the other side. He laid down his weapons but as he took off his boots, realized again just how loud Threep was snoring. He threw one of his boots at him, waking the nesper up with a hiss.

“What was that for?!” Threep was more than agitated.

“You’re snoring!” Mal whispered harshly. “I’m staying the night and I need to get some shuteye.”

“You’re staying the night?” Threep’s eyes grew wide. “I should have gone with Imtura.”

“Yeah, you should have.” Mal quipped, “She’s the only one of the group who snores louder than you and wouldn’t be bothered.”

Threep stood up, made three circles and laid back down again, nestling against the wall and falling asleep again with a loud and dramatic huff.

Mal worked to get into bed but was careful not to disturb Raine. He stayed on top of the covers that Raine was underneath. He quickly realized in his effort to prop her up on the pillows, that meant there weren’t any left on the bed. So he got out of bed once again and grabbed the satchel to rest his head upon.

He sighed to himself with his hands resting on his stomach, content to be settled next to Raine, knowing she was okay, and most of all, that she wanted him to be with her, at least for tonight.

Realizing the adrenaline of this moment was keeping him awake, he rolled over onto his side to stare at the sleeping woman next to him.

“Will I stay?” Mal said quietly as his eyes took in her features.

He loved the light freckles that danced over her face, beneath her eyes and over the bridge of her nose. The way her lips were a soft shade of pink and her cheeks a natural rose; her golden hair in a tight braid that always rested on one side of her head, exposing the area of her neck that he knew he’d love to kiss over and over again.

Mal could not believe himself. He had never felt anything like these intense feelings. He was in shock that he already felt so strongly for someone he didn’t really know all that well.

He was completely certain that he loved the feeling of her hand in his. And he knew something was real if he was truthfully scared to think of anything happening to her when he wasn’t around to protect her.

He reached across her and took her hand once again, then softly and sweetly laced his fingers in between hers, his thumb rubbing small smoothing circles across her knuckles.

“What are you doing to me, kit? You may be making an honest man out of me…and I have never, ever, wanted to be one of those until now…”

He brought her hand to his lips and let them linger there for a while. He didn’t want to take his gaze off her for fear something would happen to change the moment, to change the way she felt about him, to change their relationship, if that’s indeed what it was.

He silently brushed a single tendril of hair off her face and leaned forward to kiss her forehead.

“Will I stay, Raine?” He whispered, smiling to himself.

“That’s not even a question. I will stay tonight and hundreds of tomorrows if you’ll have me, sweet girl.”

#blazerina babbles #mal x mc #mc x mal #mal volari #bolas #blades of light and shadow #mal the rogue #mal the magnificent

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therestofmyfandoms · 4 years

Text

"Romeo, I must speak with you in private," the lady urged, and Romeo followed her to a nearby alleyway.

Benvolio watched as his friend walked away, a little curious, but respectful of his cousin's privacy. Mercutio, on the other hand, had no such qualms. The blonde royalty trailed after Romeo like a duckling, which caused Benvolio to sigh and follow behind him.

"Friar Laurence has agreed to marry us, you need only-" Benvolio could hear Romeo talking quietly, before Mercutio jumped 'round the corner.

"What's this about marriage? Romeo, truly you mustn't have fallen for this old woman?" When Benvolio finally caught up, Mercutio was grinning at a flustered Romeo, and the poor lady looked ready to smack the blonde.

Quickly stepping in front of his taller friend, Benvolio tried to break up the fight before it started. As well as learn more about this marriage.

"What I think Mercutio is trying to say is, 'you're getting married?'" Benvolio asked, lifting his arms ever so slightly as to stop the blonde from doing anything stupid. Which, of course, would do nothing to stop the man, but it's the thought that counts.

Romeo, for his sake, looked rather red, and could barely string two words together, much less form a sentence. The lady's face softened ever so slightly, and then explained the situation herself.

"Romeo wishes to marry Juliet, the only child of Lord and Lady Capulet," the lady said, as if that cleared everything up. Benvolio's eyebrows shot up, confusion marring his face. "They met last night, at Lord Capulet's masquerade party. They fell in love, and now wish to be married."

"Romeo…" Benvolio trailed off, staring at his lovestruck cousin. Well, at least its not Rosaline. But Rosaline would've been better then the fucking heir!

"Were you discussing wedding plans then?" Mercutio interrupted Benvolio's thoughts, setting a hand on his shoulder, gently pushing him aside so he could stand next to him. "May I be of some help? I do love weddings." Benvolio whipped his head to stare at Mercutio. Not fucking helping!!

The lady, meanwhile, glanced at the still-red Romeo, before turning to face Mercutio again. “Well, I suppose. I am Angelica, Juliet’s nurse, and currently her voice, as she cannot leave her home.” She offered her hand to Mercutio, who simply stared at it.

Benvolio, having more manners than his royal friend, quickly took her hand and bowed, kissing it lightly. “I am Benvolio Montague,” he said as he stood up again. “Romeo’s cousin. And the blonde lump beside me is Mercutio, kinsman to Prince Escalus.” He couldn’t help but grin when that earned him an elbow in his side.

“Now, what do you mean, wedding? I thought you liked Rosaline?” He asked, directing the last question at Romeo. The mention of Rosaline snapped Romeo out of it.

“Rosaline? Ugh, no. I simply followed your advice. I went to the party, I met a pretty girl, and I fell in love,” Romeo stated, rather matter-of-factly. As if it wasn’t a big deal that he just moved from one girl to the next. Although, knowing Romeo, it really wasn’t. Hopefully, though, this one would stick, especially since she seemed to like him back, and they were talking of marriage.

“Romeo. You know I love you, so don’t take this lightly. Are you sure about her? Absolutely, positively?” Benvolio asked, placing his hands on Romeo’s shoulders, staring him in the eye. That snapped the man out of his reverie.

"Yes, Benny. Of this, I don't think I could be more certain," his voice held such confidence, such love, that Benvolio could only sigh, and nod wearily.

Turning his head slightly, he looked at the nurse, Angelica.

"How can we help?"

---

Later than day, as the three men and the Friar were waiting for Juliet in his cell, Mercutio struck up a conversation.

"You know," he drawled to the room, speaking to no one in particular. "This, wedding business is awfully exciting. Makes me almost want to get married."

Benvolio almost scoffed, but then tried to cover it up with a cough.

"Hmm? You have something to say, Benny?" His voice held a mocking tone, but as the royalty swirled to face him, his eyes held something Benvolio could not identify.

"Me? Oh, nothing," he said easily. Mercutio just raised an eyebrow. "Well, it's just the thought of you getting married," -and there goes the other eyebrow. "You could never settle down like that. You'd drop her within the week!"

"Oh yeah?" Mercutio sounded almost affronted. Against his better judgement, Benvolio nodded.

"You would get bored! You could never stick around that long!" Benvolio went on, trying to stay quiet. "In fact, I'm honestly surprised you haven't left Romeo and I yet. Are we just exciting enough?" At this, Mercutio almost look like he bit into a lemon. A bit of hurt seeped into his eyes, and Benvolio started to feel bad, at least until his eyes suddenly sparked with a mischievous light, he opened his mouth.

"Hmm, I suppose you're right, in some ways. Do you think you would be better, at marriage? You think you would last longer?" Mercutio taunted, a faint smirk on his face. Benvolio, as much as he didn't want to, fell for the bait.

"Yea, actually. I think I would. I can put up with anything. I've put up with you, haven't I?" Oh no. That was it. That was what Mercutio was looking for, based on the grin that quickly took over his face.

"Oh, so you wouldn't mind a little, wager then, would you?" His grin was almost devilish, and by god was it contagious. Benvolio was slowly smiling as he nodded. "Good. Then how about…" Mercutio trailed off, as he glanced around the room. Benvolio did too, remembering that they had company for the first time. Oops.

For their part, Friar Laurence and Romeo looked really awkward, and were entirely avoiding eye contact with the other two. Mercutio laughed loudly, startling them.

"Friar, you're free, right?" The man didn't even have time to answer before Mercutio walked over and dragged him back to Benvolio. "Marry us, please."

"Wait what?" Benvolio's eyes were as big as dinner plates, he was sure. Before we could continue, Romeo jumped in.

"Mercutio, what? Is that really such a good idea?" Romeo asked, glancing between the 3 of them. "Isn't that kind of rash?" The twin glares from Mercutio and Benvolio was enough to silence him.

"Now, as I was saying-" before Mercutio could finish, a soft voice spoke from the door.

"I'm sorry, am I interrupting something?" Turning, Benvolio watched as the most beautiful girl he had ever seen walked into the room, glancing around at the mess that was happening.

Romeo quickly threw himself at her, hugging her and calling her 'my darling', 'my love', and other sickly sweet pet names. That must be Juliet then.

"Not at all, no," Mercutio grumbled under his breath as he let go of Friar Laurence, who promptly went over to the happy couple. Mercutio just stood next Benvolio, watching as they got married.

At first, Benvolio was very uncertain about this, and Romeo's devotion. After all, the man was like a puppy, falling in love with whoever gave him attention. But just watching him with Juliet, Benvolio could tell that he was truly in love. It was very much meant to be.

As the Friar finished up his prayers, Romeo and Juliet shared a tender kiss. And then Benvolio heard sniffling from beside him. He glanced at Mercutio, who wiped a tear from his eye. Then he noticed him watching.

"Its beautiful, okay? Don't judge me," he huffed, turning his head away and crossing his arms like a 5 year old. Benvolio chuckled slightly.

"I'm not, I'm not. I just didn't take you for a softie." Benvolio explained lightly, nudging him with his elbow, eyes now watching the newly-weds. They were simply staring at each other, talking quietly.

It was quiet for a bit, as the Friar went about his other business, and the married couple were spending as much time as possible together before Juliet had to leave.

Then Benvolio heard a mumble from beside him. He glanced at Mercutio. The man was tucked into himself, like a turtle. It seemed almost wrong, somehow, that the usually loud and boisterous was acting, well, nervous.

"What?" He asked, wondering if he said anything at all or if he just imagined it.

"So?" The blonde said again, a little louder. Oh, so he did say something.

"So what?"

"Do you want to? You know…"

"Do what? I'm sorry, I'm lost"

Mercutio groaned. It seemed he was done with words, even though he didn't say very many. The royalty simply waved in the direction of Friar Laurence, and then gestured between the two of them. Oh. That.

"Oh." Bevolio suddenly felt very warm. Is it hot in here? We should open a window. Is there anyone windows? His thoughts rambled on, as he struggled to think of what to say. "Uh, sure? But what will the winner get?"

Mercutio seemed to expand a bit more. He stood up straighter, with a slight smile upon his lips. "I suppose that's up to the victor, is it not? I mean, when I win, I want to choose whatever. I. Please."

"You mean, when I win." Benvolio grinned, delighted to be bantering back and forth again. "I agree to that though. Whatever we want." He stuck out his hand.

Mercutio grinned back, and quickly shook his hand. "Oh Friar!"

The call once again startled the other people in the room who were not paying attention. Friar Laurence simply sighed and made his way over to them.

"Please join your hands," the Friar instructions, and they did just that. The man began to speak a long, low prayer, blessing this union and blah blah, Benvolio tuned him out.

All he could think about was oh god what is my family going to think and were Mercutio's hands always this soft?

"To seal this union, you must do so with a kiss," the Friar interrupted his thoughts, and that brought them to a startling halt. Oh yeah. Forgot about this part.

Based on his smirk, Mercutio didn't forget. He simply grabbed Benvolio's face and pulled him into a kiss. A warm, beautiful kiss that made him weak at the knees. Then before he knew it, it was over and he was simply staring in Mercutio's eyes and clutching onto his shoulders.

Oh no Benvolio thought, watching as Mercutio's eyes glistened, almost as if he knew what he was doing to Benvolio. This is going to be harder than I thought.

#bencutio #mervolio #mercutio #benvolio #romeo #juliet #romeo and juliet #r+j #my writing #m's writing #if anyone's curious #the characters are based on the ones from the 1968 movie #we watched it in class #as we were reading it #sooo #yea anyway i may or may not continue this #just depends on feedback and also inspiration #not many people even read r+j let alone ship mercutio #but a girl can dream

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sabraeal · 4 years

Text

Insult on Top of Injury

The Wide Florida Bay | Previous

Written for @vivianwisteria‘s birthday...which just so happened to be right when I was in the hospital, not able to work on anything. But at least this time it’s only a month late! She requested a Wide Florida Bay piece, specifically the moment Obi comes out to Zen...and how could I refuse >:3

This is a fucking disaster.

In his heart of hearts, Obi knew there was no way this conversation wouldn’t have hit like a brick, no matter when or how they had it. As much as Doc insisted that her and Zen were over, that they’d pretty much failed to launch in the first place--

Well, Obi had known that wasn’t the way Chief saw it. You don’t have a deep heart to heart on a yacht about liking the same girl without picking up a few things about how your romantic non-rival thinks things are going. God, he’d told him to propose to her.

Three-years-ago Obi was such a dumb fuck. Good thing no one listens to him.

Three-years-from-now Obi is going to be thinking the same fucking thing about him right now, he can just feel it. Well, as long as that asshole finishes his thesis, he can think whatever he likes.

He shakes his head, looking in the mirror. Now’s really not a good time to be yucking it up over how good Future Obi is going to have it, not when Present Obi is currently wondering if this bathroom is fancy enough for him to have a window to climb out of.

Not that he would. He’s left Doc out there, awkwardly making conversation with the happy couple and her shell-shocked ex-boyfriend, and though she has a gift for smoothing things over, this is--

It’s a lot. Especially when said ex-boyfriend didn’t realize that he’s been one for the last six months.

Fuck. Obi slams his palm onto the metal lip of the sink-- or rather, trough, since this isn’t just a fancy-ass fake Mexican place, but the kind that has rustic-yet-modern details like brushed metal trough sinks and exposed beams and something that might actually be adobe.

“This is fucking ridiculous,” he tells the mosaic bird beneath his feet, and sticks his head right under the faucet.

Ah, that’s right-- the best part about fancy places like this is when he turns on the tap, the water is actually fucking freezing. And if no one is around to hear him yelp like a little baby when it hits his neck, so much the better.

“Fuck,” he gasps, rearing back out of the stream. “Fuck.”

Obi meets the gaze of his own reflection, and god, does he not need the judgement he sees right now.

“I get it,” he tells Mirror Obi, watching the water drip through the bristle of his hair, leaving tracks down his forehead. “I fucked up. Bad.”

Not like he could have done much. He’d wanted to believe Doc too much, wanted to believe that the past two years had all been leading straight to this, to them; that it hadn’t been a meandering path that circled around and sometimes even through her floundering relationship.

Still, he probably could have texted. Hey Chief, just want you to know I’m fucking Doc now. Just as good as I thought it would be. XOXO.

Oh yeah, that would have gone so well. He can just tell.

Obi shakes himself, water spraying over the trough. He’s gotta pull it together. He can’t stay in this fancy fake Mexican bathroom all night. Doc would kill him.

No, not kill-- Doc would never be so violent. She’d just give him that sad pout and say things like, I’m not upset, I’m just disappointed, and make him wish they had a yard so he could go sleep in the doghouse where he belongs. Whoever said, there are fates worse than death has definitely met Shirayuki when she’s disappointed.

He scrubs a hand down his face. Time to face the tapas. Ain’t like things are gonna go any less sideways in here.

The door easily swings open under his hand; it’s almost a disappointment. It lacks the proper gravitas of a man going to his own disembowelment.

A disembowelment that is going to happen about two minutes earlier than he expected with far less of a crowd, if Kiki’s expression is any indication.

“Kiki!” There’s a reddish cast to the shadows around her, thanks to the great big EXIT sign she’s underneath, which lends an artful level of menace to the situation. God, he wishes she wasn’t between him and the door. “Just getting some fresh--?”

She levers herself off the wall, swaggering right into his personal space. It’s both super hot and pants-pissingly terrifying; something that would be right up his ally if he both wasn’t in the best relationship of his life and bone-shakingly certain he was about to die.

“Go talk to him.”

He blinks. “Come again?”

“Go talk to him.” It’s strange; he’s always thought of Kiki as a giant, as a woman who maybe couldn’t look dead into his eyes but at least came close, but standing like this she’s-- small. Human. “Please.”

“I don’t...” He sighs, shoulders rounding. “What am I even going to say to him?”

“Everything,” she tells him, forbidding. “Anything. Just keep using words until this is better. You’re good at that.”

He chokes on a laugh. Sounds more like Doc’s specialty than his; whenever he runs his mouth off he just gets into situations like this.

“Princess, I would love to oblige you,” he manages, “but I’m not sure that’s possible.”

“We’re only here because none of you can just--” she makes an aborted gesture and steps up into him, so close he can smell the spice on her breath. “Make it possible.”

He laughs. “How?”

She pokes him square in the chest. It hurts. “Use. Your. Words.”

His hair dries the instant he steps outside, because if there’s one thing Florida’s good at, it’s being hot as fuck. And humid as fuck.

Use your words. Obi sighs. Easy for Kiki to say; she barely uses any. He’s been spouting them all night, and they’re still here: in a fancy tapas restaurant trying to masquerade as a humble taqueria, with Chief taking a long walk on its short pier. Literally.

Obi trudges down the stairs to the shoreline, hands buried in his pockets. Here he is, all dressed up-- he wore a button-down for this; hell, he wore slacks too, and that’s what really killing him before the breeze kicks up-- and still everything has turned into a shitshow. He ate his tapas, made good conversation, broke the news gently, and--

It’s no good. He can try as much as he likes, but the fuck up here is still him.

He drags his glare off his shoes when he hits the planks, and it’s like he walked right into one of those GQ shoots: Zen’s all artfully disheveled, leaning on the rail with the sort of brooding, thousand-yard stare that cameras love. He’s half-tempted to slip out his phone and take a pic himself, except that memorializing the moment he royally fucked up a friendship seems like a bad idea, psychologically. Definitely a choice the therapist back at Wistal would have spent a good hour on.

“Hey,” he says, trying to be casual, as if there was anything casual about chasing after your bro after you inform him you’re sort of fucking the girl he got off the plane thinking he was still dating.

He shakes himself. No, not-- it’s not fucking. He’s dating Doc. Seriously. God, this is literally the most serious he’s ever been. This is real.

Though, there is definitely a lot of fucking. A lot more than he’d imagined there would be, if the planets aligned and Shirayuki looked at him like how he looks at her even a little.

Zen stiffens, shoulders springing up to his ears like the pickets on a fence, like he can keep Obi’s bullshit out if he puts enough of a barrier between them. Which...fair.

Obi sidles up next to him, bracing his hand on the rail, and breathes. The salt stings his lungs, his eyes, and god, hadn’t they done this before? It’s only been three years, but that night on the Wisteria yacht feels like ages ago, like another lifetime entirely.

He had shitty feelings then too. Just blurted out I like Doc like an idiot.

Use your words, that’s what Kiki said. Obi grimaces. Look how well all that turned out.

“What’s the deal with the dock?” he says, regret instantly washing over him. Why on earth did Kiki think he could do this? “Like one of those big overhang decks? I could get that. But a dock? Seems excessive.”

The silence is disheartening, but Obi can’t say he doesn’t expect it. Small talk isn’t really a thing you do when everyone’s realized there’s been an overlap in boyfriend eras.

“It’s really more of a wharf,” Zen says, like he’s dredging up each word. “Lots of little piers all together.”

“Oh, well,” he drawls, mouth twitching. This he can work with. “Sorry. What’s up with the wharf?”

Zen shrugs, shoulders practically creaking from the effort. “It’s a thing waterfronts do. People have houses down here, and they like to have a reason to show off their boat to all the neighbors.”

Obi can’t help it, he stares. “So they drive it to the nearest fine dining establishment?”

Zen casts a confused look back at the restaurant. “I mean, it isn’t that nice.”

God, rich kids.

“If you say so, Chief.”

Silence settles over them, as comfortable as a wet blanket-- ugh, or maybe that’s just the humidity; they really should be having this conversation where there’s air conditioning. Or never. But never isn’t an option, not unless he wants to lose this, and--

And whatever else happens, he can’t. Doc might have been the one to clean him up and tame him, but Zen was the one that pulled him out of the dumpster. He had every reason to keep on driving, to leave him sitting in a vat of fried pickle juice, but instead he stopped. Instead he offered a hand.

It wasn’t a kindness he deserved. He’d known that then, and he knew it even better now. But Zen saw something in him, something not even he had seen, and--

And he needs that.

“So, ah,” Obi coughs, staring out at the marina across the bay. “Back in the restaurant. That was, ah, a lot, right?”

Zen doesn’t answer him, doesn’t even look at him, but Obi’s watching him from the corner of his eye, and he sees his mouth pull thin. Yeah, this was probably not the most graceful way to bring this up. Probably should have stuck with small talk.

He clenches his jaw. Whatever, in for a penny, in for a pound, and quite frankly if they don’t clear the air, Kiki might kill him.

“Yep,” he says, glaring out over the water. “You’re right. Just a whole ton. Really fucking heav--”

“This was my worst nightmare,” Zen croaks, the words nearly lost on the breeze. “You know that?”

Considering he wakes up in a cold sweat two nights out of seven, convinced Doc’s come to her senses and left him only to find out she’s gotten up to pee-- yeah, he knows that. Inside and out.

Probably...probably not the best time to say so.

“I knew the whole thing was a risk,” Zen admits, with a rueful laugh. “I mean, you told me you liked her, and I sent you after her anyway.”

Obi stiffens. “You didn’t send me here. Shidan offered me a spot, and I chose to come.”

“Right, sure, but I encouraged you,” he says, elbows leaning heavy on the rail. “I told you that you could do it-- that you should do it. And I-- I knew then too. Even without you telling me.” He laughs, wry. “I made the stars align to get you here.”

His fingers clench around the wood. It’s true, he knows; his grades had been good, Garrack liked him, Shidan liked him, but abroad programs were a long shot, and he was not the sort of pony the admin department was apt to bet on. He’d always known there must have been a nudge, a whispered word over canapes, but--

But he really could have lived without knowing it. “Doc was with you.”

“Sure, but I’m fifteen hundred miles away, and you look like-- like that.” He waves a hand at him, cheeks flushed. “And you were interested.”

The rail creaks under his grip. “I never--”

“No, of course not,” Zen sighs. “But all you have to do is breathe and panties come off.”

Historically, it’s a fair assessment, but it’s like he’s forgotten that it’s Doc, the last person on earth who would be swayed by rippling abs and solid pecs. For two solid years she happily went without any sexy time whatsoever from her long-term boyfriend and thought that was a good thing, and it had nothing to do with how well he filled out his jeans. Unfortunately. Would have made a whole bunch of things a lot easier if it had.

“If you’d been interested in me, I would have--” Chief turns a painful red-- “I mean, if I was a girl. Not--”

If Zen had known, he would have done more than eyefuck you for an entire year.

It’s strange how that’s all it takes for things to come into focus. It’s not about Doc, it’s not even about him, it’s--

“I just thought if this was going to happen, it wouldn’t have taken so long,” Zen continues, hunching over the rail. “I thought you’d just...jump each other or something, and it’d be over.”

--It’s about him.

“I should have paid more attention,” he sighs, morose. “I just thought that I knew you--”

“Hey, while we’re talking about stuff,” Obi blurts out, wishing he could stop hearing Kiki’s voice, wishing he could stop thinking, just talk about everything until this is fixed, “you know, stuff we haven’t talked about...”

Zen turns to him, wide-eyed, and god, this is a really bad fucking idea.

“You should know,” he says, striving for a casualness that isn’t even in the same zip code as his anxiety, “I’m bi.”

The word sits between them like a lead weight, like cement shoes.

“W-what?” Zen manages, and god, he’s almost purple.

“Listen, Kiki said that--” he shakes his head-- “never mind. I just-- it seemed like you should know, and honestly, it’s not like you can really get more mad at me at this point, so--”

“I’m not-- I’m not mad.” He is a little breathless, which is interesting to say the least, and there’s not an exposed sliver of skin on him that isn’t pink. “I just-- why are you telling me? It’s not like I’m-- that I--”

“Kiki said we were flirting all of sophomore year,” he says before the kid can hurt himself. “So it felt pertinent to the conversation, I guess.”

“What? I wasn’t--” he sputters before his words dry up. “Wait. We were flirting?”

God, he really has a type, doesn’t he? “Yeah. You know--” he turns to him, letting his mouth take a sly slant-- “before Tanbarun, I could have gone for blonds or red heads.”

Zen stares. “What does Kiki have to do with--? Oh.” His jaw goes slack. “Oh. So you were...?”

“Flirting? Yeah.” He slides closer, brow arched. “Thought I was being obvious too.”

Chief’s mouth works for a moment, eyes darting to take in this new distance, and he blurts out, “I thought you were joking!”

Yuzuri’s right; he needs to work on his game if the result is resoundingly, I thought you weren’t interested.

He grins, dropping his voice. “Ryuu says I like to joke, but I never lie.”

It’s fun to see Chief like this, stuttering and unsure, face so red he’s worried about what it means for brain function. “But you-- you said-- on the yacht--”

Obi doesn’t point out that the yacht was a good six months after Tanbarun, that by then he’d been long gone on Doc. Whatever potential had been brewing between them had cooled, Obi’s heart settling into the long haul of pining for a girl he’d thought would never see him as more than a friend.

Mostly because it’s funnier this way.

He leans in, close enough that his breath stirs the baby-fine wisps at his hairline. “I said I liked you.”

He’d meant it, too, but not the way he would have months earlier, wondering if Chief’s furtive post-shower glances were as speculative as his were. On that yacht, his whole body had been quivering, an arrow ready to be loosed. He just needed Zen to point him south.

“I also said you had great eyes,” Obi reminds him, smirking. “And a great ass.”

Zen’s mouth pulls flat, and just like that the spell is broken. “You said you liked Shirayuki, too. And you definitely meant that differently.”

Yeah, he’d meant to say he loved her, but it seemed kinda gauche to say in front of her boyfriend.

“Maybe,” he teases with a shrug, “but you’re both my type. Stubborn, cute--” he slides his hand along the rail until they’re almost touching, looming over him-- “short.”

“All right.” Chief puts a hand to his chest and shoves. “Joke’s over.”

Obi stumbles away, pressing his palm to his heart with a theatrical gasp. “Why, your lordship, would I ever lie to you?”

Zen’s mouth pulls thin. “No. I know that you’re-- being honest about that. But you’re definitely trying to fuck with me.”

“Can you blame me?” he asks with a grin. “I don’t envy your complexion at all, chief. You give everything away.”

“Ha-ha.” Zen gives him a withering look. “First short jokes, now this. You definitely seem contrite.”

“Hey, I am. I never--” he shakes his head-- “we weren’t trying to hurt you. We just--”

“No, I get it.” He hangs his head with a humorless laugh. “I wasn’t part of the equation. I stopped being one a long time ago and then just...never noticed.”

Obi grimaces. It sounds so much worse when he says it, all out loud and stuff.

It doesn’t make it any less true.

Zen coughs, awkward. “Hey, uh, listen. As long as we’re being honest...”

Every muscle in his body tenses, but Obi takes a breath-- takes two breaths, because this is going to be heavy, talking about Atri, talking about what it’s like to feel like you’re carrying around a secret no one will understand-- and leans oh-so-casually against the rail. “Yeah?”

Nailed it.

Zen squares himself off, like he’s expect a fight-- no, like he’s expecting a punch, and he’s ready to take it--

“I’ve been seeing Kihal.”

Obi stares. “Uh, what?”

“C-casually!” he clarifies, springing back from the rail and shuffling down the pier like he hasn’t dropped an absolute bomb. “It’s not-- not anything serious or anything. Just, you know. Coffee. And dinner.” With a guilty expression he mutters, “And breakfast.”

Obi stands there blinking like an idiot. “Come again?”

“Listen, I know it’s...” He grimaces, realizing there’s no more rail to hold this far out, and holds up his hands instead. “I know I said that nothing had changed for me, but I guess--” he sighs, hanging his head-- “on some level I knew. Shirayuki was pulling away.

“That doesn’t make it right,” he continues, “but even though we hadn’t said anything, I knew it was over. No--” he shakes his head-- “I wasn’t even thinking about it. Shirayuki wasn’t even really a consideration.”

He can’t even think from how loud his mind is screaming. “So you came down here to...what? Break up with Doc?”

Zen grimaces. “I mean, it sounds so bad when you--” Obi glares-- “yeah. Yes. I guess. Something like that.”

“So what you’re saying,” Obi deadpans, “is that I suffered through that whole dinner, your huge ass guilt trip monologue, and this conversation...and you’re seeing someone else?”

“Well, gently,” he argues lamely. “Not like you guys, when you’re, you know, practically married--”

His arm moves on its own.

His palm juts out, taking Zen right in the chest, and he stumbles for a single step in his boat shoes before he falls ass-first right into the bay. A jolt of concern wracks him in the second it takes Chief to emerge, bobbing and gasping, linen shirt soaked all the way through to transparency, and is gone just as quick.

“What,” he gasps, hands flailing for the dock, “was that for?”

Obi grins. His arm might have moved on its own, but he definitely approves. “Really?”

Zen deflates, arms crossing over the planks to hold him. “Okay, this is fair.”

He crouches down, meeting his wide-eyed gaze. “You think?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Zen holds out his hand. “Just help me up.”

“My pleasure, master,” he teases, grasping his hand, and--

And it’s only once he’s tilting, boards no longer under his feet, that he realizes: that’s the oldest trick in the book.

From the pier, the shore had looked a lot closer. It takes a significant amount of actual swimming until he’s able to brush his toes against the bottom-- though he’ll admit, half of it is because there’s no cool, convenient way to swim with clothes on. Doggie paddle is inefficient, but actual strokes look like you’re trying too hard, so they make due with some weird combination of both with some freestyle cussing.

“So,” Zen coughs, once his own feet can touch, a good few feet after Obi can. “Did you like Mitsuhide too? I mean, since you wanted to kiss everyone?”

In Obi’s opinion, the fact that his top three sexual fantasies in Wistal involved either Zen, Kiki, or Doc showed some real discerning standards, like some real Gray Goose level taste, but he understands-- the point’s lost on Zen. He’s in his mid-twenties and can count the number of people he’s wanted to catch in a dark corner on one hand. They’re different people, it’s cool.

“Nah,” he sighs, shaking out his hair. Zen hisses as some of the water sprays him. “I mean, if I didn’t know him, I’d fuck him in a second, but--” he hesitates-- “No, wait, scratch that. I’d let him fuck me, but--”

“OKAY,” Zen yelps, pushing past him. “Conversation over! Too much information!”

Obi grins at his back. “You did ask.”

“Yeah,” Zen huffs, trudging faster, “and now I definitely regret it.”

“Hey,” he croaks, feet finally finding purchase-- as long as he cranes his neck up. It hurts like a bitch, but it’s giving him a great view of the shoreline. “Does that look like--?”

“Kiki’s waiting for us?” Chief finishes faintly. “Yeah, it does.”

He’d grimace if it wasn’t going to get more water down his throat. “Does she look...pissed?”

“I can’t tell from here.” Zen gives him a flat look. “Are you a betting man?”

It’s not much of a gamble with these odds. “How about we just swim up...super slow?”

“Yeah,” he agrees, quickly. “Sounds great. Let’s just take our time.”

The water laps at their thighs-- well, his thighs, Chief’s waist-- when Obi finally clears his throat and asks, “So Kihal.”

Zen tenses beside him. “Yeah?”

“You really--” man, this sounded better in his head-- “like her?”

“Yeah.” Zen sends him a wary glance. “I think...yeah. There’s something there.”

“Good.” Considering how much there it sounds like Chief’s experienced, there better be. “She’s good people. I wouldn’t want anyone to be playing around with her.”

To his everlasting surprise, Zen laughs. Has a good old fashioned guffaw right there as they marinate in fish shit and whatever runoff this restaurant is paying the inspectors to miss. “What?”

“Nothing, it’s just--” he shakes his head, hair almost translucent between the sun and the water-- “she did not like you back in the day.”

“According to Doc, she thought I was hot back in the day,” Obi says, basking in Chief’s unstifled ugh. “And then was extremely betrayed when I ended up being an asshole.”

“That does sound exactly like her,” Zen admits with a begrudging fondness. Obi dares a glance in his direction, and-- yep, lovesick smile.

“I’ve since made up for it,” he assures him, hand pressed humbly to his chest. “But she also likes to text me every few weeks to remind me she could kick my ass.”

“Also sounds exactly like her.” Zen ducks his chin, awkward. “It’s good though.”

“I’d say so. I could live out my Zorro dreams if I let Elena de la Vega--”

“Please do not finish that thought,” Chief pleads, eyes rolled heavenward. “I just meant it would suck if one of my best friends didn’t get along with my girlfriend.”

Obi has to take a moment. A whole ass moment while he tries to remember how breathing and not crying work.

Chief claps him on the back, expression etched with worry. “You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah.” He coughs, and ugh, some ugly cry phlegm comes out. “Just-- there’s pollen or something. My chest got all tight.”

“Right.” Zen squeezes his shoulder with a grin. “I know this is all-- weird.”

“Terrible,” Obi corrects.

“Right, it’s godawful.” He sighs. “But I won’t lose you over being dumb. Either of you.”

“Cool, yeah” He nods, and ugh, makes the worse sniffling noise. “Also-- girlfriend? I thought you said this wasn’t anything serious.”

He’s eaten lobsters less red than Chief, he’s pretty sure. “Shut up.”

“Somehow,” rings a cold voice from the shore as they pick their way over the sharp shells near the shore, “this is even stupider than I thought it would be.”

Obi winces. Ah yes, going slow would have been a great plan, if Kiki was going get to tired of waiting. Now she’s only had time to age her anger, like the wines in the Seiran basement.

Zen gulps, audibly. “It’s not my--”

She holds up a hand, whipping out her phone and flicking through screens so fast that a deep pit of dread forms in his gut. Oh, she’s not just pissed, she’s officious.

They are fucked.

“W-what are you doing?” Zen asks, faint. If he was a lobster before, he’s its ghost now, pale as a sheet.

“Ordering you an Uber.” She says it the same way men in the spy business might say waterboarding.

“W-wha--”

“I’m glad to see you’ve both worked out being idiots,” she tells them, mouth curving, just for a moment, into something like a smile. “But there is absolutely no way you’re getting into Mitsuhide’s car like that.”

Kiki regards the two of them, dripping into the bay in their nice clothes, from down the length of her nose. “The restaurant will lend you some towels for the ride. We’ll meet you back at the hotel.”

She strides away, disappearing up the stairs, toward the street.

“Well,” Zen sighs, dragging himself out. “That could have gone worse.”

“No.” Obi shivers, giving him a boost. “She’s just leaving the rest for Doc.”

Zen freezes, halfway up the retaining wall. “Oh. We’re fucked then.”

“Yeah,” he grunts, “now you’re starting to see the picture.”

#obiyuki #kizen #akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #The Wide Florida Bay #my fic #modern au #there will eventually be a fic previous to this #where you get to see the awful dinner #and had i not gotten SUPER SICK for two months #i would have written that in preparation for this #BUT HERE WE ARE IN THIS TIMELINE #you can use your imaginations #to imagine how terrible this dinner went #FOR NOW

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lu-undy · 4 years

Text

Chapter 33 - SBT

Here it is!

"You still want to drive or shall I?"

"You keep your filthy spooky hands off of her!"

"Filthy hands? Me?" Lucien exclaimed as they got closer to the van. "Bushman, my hands are in excellent hygienic and cosmetic condition, unlike yours!"

Lucien and Mundy hopped in the van. They fastened their seatbelts but, to Lucien's surprise, nothing happened. Mundy did not start the engine. He just had his hands on the steering wheel and he was staring at nothing in front of him.

"Bushman?"

"Hm." Mundy woke up from his daydream.

"Something is the matter?" Lucien asked as Mundy started the van and started driving off.

"N-no, it's just… I'm surprised you know Lulu, is all."

Lucien smiled.

"Head for the old centre of town… He is an interesting character, Lulu. Like any artist I believe, he has been cursed."

"What d'you mean?"

"The man is way too romantic for his own good. He sees beauty in everything, even in the most tragic disaster." Lucien said smiling, albeit sadly. Of course he was talking about himself, but for Mundy, it was Lulu that it was all about. "When he sings, he gets possessed by the words that come out of his lips, as if they had control over him and not the other way around."

"You seem to know him so well… How did you meet and become friends?"

"It was… It was decades ago now, in Paris, even before I became a sp-... Uh…"

"You wanted to say before you became a spook, eh?" Mundy joked.

"Oui, you are contaminating me with your jargon, Bushman. But oui, it was before I got my current position." Mon Dieu, what would have happened if he had slipped and said he was a spy?

"You said Lulu was singing in the poshest place in Paris, right?"

"Oui, he was. And what a sight…! His shows were phenomenal, people came from all around the world to see him. Some were even lucky enough to share a chat, or a meal with him. Oh that man led the happiest of lives, and he loved it there."

"What happened? Why did he leave Paris?"

"I am not sure entirely, but he stopped singing. Maybe he wanted to take a break, retire for a while."

"And then he decided to sing again?" Mundy asked.

"Apparently, oui. I guess retirement did not suit him, or the other way around, God only knows."

"Why come to Australia? That seems awfully far from home."

"He is well travelled. Well, I guess he has travelled to such an extent that nowhere is really home anymore."

Mundy heard the distress in Lucien's voice. It struck him. Why was the man in the mask distraught about that?

"You almost sound… sad. Were you that close friends with Lulu?" He asked.

"Oh, oui, the best of friends." Lucien answered. "I think I got to know him at the most innocent point of my life. I was a young adult, carefree, not a clue about the cruelty of life, or so little. Each time I think of Lulu, his personality, it brings me back decades ago that feel like another life altogether."

"I guess it makes sense if all that happened before… y'know." Mundy didn't dare say that it had happened before Lucien lost his fiancée and son.

"Oui, it did."

"Hm, I get it…"

"As much as the man is cursed, he is extremely lucky." Lucien said.

"What d'you mean?"

"Don't you sometimes wish you could feel something else than just this brutal lust for revenge?" Lucien asked.

Mundy's eyebrows jumped at the unexpected burst of truth.

"Yeah actually. I uh… Sometimes I even wonder how it all was when I had my parents, how happy I was without feeling happy. I didn't know I was happy. If I could go back in time, I'd tell myself to feel privileged."

"But would your younger self understand that privilege?" Lucien asked and Mundy's eyes shot to him.

"I can see you were very close to Lulu, you talk like him."

"Have you talked to him? Oh, by the way take it right here and we should park nearby."

"Alright." Mundy flicked his blinking light and took the turn. "And yeah, I went to have a chat with him."

"Lucky you! The man is arrogant and doesn't just let anyone talk to him." Lucien answered, still playing Mundy like a damn fiddle.

"Really?" Mundy's heart jumped. He felt special…

"Oui, I assure you. And given the long queue of ladies and admirers of all sorts, Lulu has no choice but to live like that, pushing people who look at him with fondness away from his life "

"Oh, wow… I had no idea…" Mundy parked and stopped the van. He looked down and fell deep in thought, his hands still on the steering wheel.

"But I guess that if he accepted a chat with you, he must have found something worth his while under that brown hat of yours, hm?"

Mundy looked at Lucien. The French bastard was smirking and exited the van. L sure did have quite the smirk, a bit like Lulu, Mundy thought. But that mask made him look so… non-human.

"Let us go." Lucien opened the door for his colleague to get in.

"Oh…" Mundy looked at the tailor's shop. He recognised it. It was the one he had come to when he had asked about that blue and golden button!

"Come on, Bushman. I know you have rarely seen suits of that standard, but don't be too impressed." Lucien mocked him.

"Spook…"

They both slipped in.

"Ah! L!" Richard and his impeccably trimmed moustache welcomed the Frenchman warmly. "Bonjour mon ami!"

[Hello, my friend!]

The two Frenchmen shook hands while Mundy hoped the tailor wouldn't recognise him...

"Please, Richard, meet my friend, M." Lucien turned to face Mundy and frowned. "Bushman, your manners!" Lucien pushed himself to the tip of his toes and snatched Mundy's hat off his head.

"Oi! My hat!" Mundy tried to take it back but Lucien turned away from him.

"You are inside, you don't need it, you impolite!" Lucien answered. "Richard, please pardon my friend's manners."

"No problem at all." Mundy and Richard shook hands. "How may I help today? I hope you liked the few suits I made for you, L?"

"They were divine, Richard, as usual. And I think I am getting used to wearing a bit more colour now."

"Ah, you see? I told you!" Richard exclaimed happily.

"Shall we take a seat, please? Our request might take a bit of explaining." Lucien asked.

"Of course, please."

Lucien and Mundy sat on a sofa while Richard was on an armchair in front of them.

"So, what will you need?"

"We are attending a masquerade ball and we need disguises, costumes."

"Ah, I see. M, do you mind standing up and removing your jacket, please?"

Mundy looked at Lucien who nodded, and the Aussie removed his sleeveless jacket as he stood up.

"Here."

"Oh, a tall man indeed…" Richard stood up and started taking measurements. "Hm… Paul, tu peux venir prendre les mesures du Monsieur s'il te plaît?"

[Paul, can you please come and take the measurements of the man here?]

Paul and his brother emerged from the workshop and got busy around Mundy. The Aussie felt awkward standing up between Lucien and Richard, with both Richard's sons turning around him with tape measures. He kept looking at what they were doing, turning his head left and right nervously.

"What costumes do you want?"

"I would like to go for a costume of Le Roi Soleil."

"Didn't you want to go Louis-the-whatever?" Mundy asked.

Lucien rolled his eyes.

"Le Roi Soleil is the Sun King, which is the nickname that Louis the Fourteenth got, because he radiated such strong power, it was as if France was ruled by the sun itself."

"Crikey… You never stop, do you…?"

Lucien smirked and tilted his head on the side.

"I see you are starting to know me."

"And for you M, what would you like?" Richard asked.

"To be honest, I have no idea, mate."

"Give him something that suits him and he can keep it even outside of the party. A new suit won't hurt him."

"Ah, I see. Shall I also make masks?" Richard gestured to his sons who took notes.

"Naturally. M, I would recommend one for you too." Lucien said.

"Why?"

"First, to hide your unpleasant face."

"Spook…"

Even Richard cracked a smile under his moustache.

"And second, it is better to hide your identity. The longer they don't know who you are, the better."

"Is it why you wear your mask?"

Richard's eyes went to Lucien.

"Amongst other things, oui." Lucien looked at Richard. "How long do you think it will take before we can get the costumes?"

The tailor was looking at his son's notepad and Mundy's measurements. His eyes went up to the hunter.

"A well-built man you are, sturdy shoulders, tall…" Richard sprang off his armchair. He put his hands on Mundy's shoulders and opened them. "Don't stand slouched, straighten your spine, here, that is a nice posture, I will spare you the chin…"

"What about my chin?" Mundy asked, as he had just been re-arranged by the tailor as if he had been made of clay.

"Ah, watch this." Richard said and raised his index finger. "L, would you mind standing up, please?"

"But of course." Lucien stood up next to the hunter and pulled the panes of his jacket to close the button again.

"Look here, M, this is how to stand tall and proud. Look at the way L holds his head, the chin slightly up, the chest proud, without overdoing it, that posture!" Richard was pointing as he was turning around the Frenchman. "The curves on his spine, the fabric of the vest just follows it almost poetically, and that is not talking about his proportions!"

Lucien himself started to blush and looked at his feet.

"This man's body has been designed for modelling!"

Mundy squinted and as he stared more, he started to see Lulu's graceful silhouette on L.

"In more than thirty years in the business, I haven't met a single man, not a single person, with a body like his."

"Richard…" Lucien looked at the floor, slightly embarrassed. He brushed his eyebrow with a finger and licked his lips.

"That, and an exquisite taste in clothing!" Richard went on, as if Lucien hadn't interrupted him. And he turned to Mundy. "But you…"

He got closer to the tall Aussie and pointed an accusative index finger at the man.

"You have no understanding of fashion. You do not honour the fabrics that you wear and vice versa. You dress up because you have been raised to and that is one of the very few things that still separates you from the animal."

Lucien raised his eyes to Mundy who lowered his, and faced the other way.

"But look at you…! Such potential! If you just saw the numbers! Paul, the notepad!"

Paul handed his father the notepad on which he had written Mundy's measurements.

"It's all here! The numbers! Now, words might lie, faces might lie, anything can lie, but numbers…? Numbers cannot lie! And do you know what these mean?"

Mundy didn't dare move. Lucien was watching the whole scene unravel in the centre of the room, surrounded by rolls of fabric on wooden shelves, under yellow lights.

"The numbers that I see here do not mean what I see! I see a man whose clothes are older than my sons' careers but the numbers on the paper here, they scream! Such injustice! You could be so much more! Why do you treat your clothes this way…? Why do you choose to present yourself this way?"

"I didn't choose."

"Of course you did! And of course you do, everyday!" Richard answered. "Now, I will take it as my responsibility to show you the potential that these numbers show. I will make a suit that you will keep for your entire life, and it shall reveal what you could be. Do I have your agreement?"

Richard extended his hand and looked Mundy dead in the eyes. The Aussie raised his eyes from the floor up to Richard.

"A-alright." He shyly raised his hand and Richard shook it firmly.

"Right, now L, should I give him the same pockets as you?"

"Non, the classic ones and just two extras."

"Dimensions?"

"Same as my jacket ones."

"Understood. Fine, now, was that all?"

"I do believe so." Lucien said. "Thank you a thousand times, Richard."

"My pleasure."

A few moments later, Lucien and Mundy were back in the van.

"Gosh, your friend is… Intense." Mundy said.

"To be honest with you, I never saw him getting so emotional." Lucien answered. "You, Bushman, you have your effect on people. First, it was Lulu, now Richard, who next? Me?"

"Yeah, well, I don't know. I never asked to have people shout at me about my clothes, eh."

"And yet…" Lucien looked at his friend. He stared at him with a smile.

"And yet what?"

"Can you drive me back to Maurice's? I need my motorcycle." Lucien answered.

Mundy looked at him for a second. What the hell did he mean, that Spook?

"Yeah." He started the van and off they went. The ride was mostly silent if one doesn't count the rumble of the engine.

"You could bring your sheila to see Lulu. If she likes you, she likes posh stuff and she'll no doubt love Lulu."

"My sheila?" Lucien repeated.

"Yeah, your sheila, the one that waitress at the diner talked about… what was the name again… Payrlee or something? She French too I guess?"

Lucien was about to burst out laughing. Mundy thought that Perle was a woman…

"Her name is Perle, or for you in English, Pearl."

"Ah, right. Poetic."

"Indeed, and again I am surprised in a good way that you of all people appreciate the poetry. But non, I found her here in Australia, not in France."

"Ah, so it's fairly recent, eh?"

"Oui."

"Guess it makes sense."

"What?" Lucien asked.

"You're a classy bloke, you've got the manners goin' and all. No doubt the sheilas queue for miles for you, eh?"

"I cannot complain in that regard." Lucien smirked.

"Must be a French thing."

"What?"

"It's a bit like with Lulu. The other day he received heaps of letters from sheilas."

"Quite the interest you have with that singer, M."

"What?!" Mundy blushed and his grip on the steering wheel hardened.

"In French we say 'Tous les chemins mènent à Rome.', 'All the roads lead to Rome', but with you, all the discussions lead to Lulu it seems."

Mundy didn't know what to answer as he started to realise that yes, he was quite interested in the singer.

"Quite the admirer, you are." Lucien said.

Mundy decided to just be honest about it.

"It's the way he sings, not the bloke himself, although he isn't unpleasant to watch."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, he has a way of… Mh… No, I can't tell you."

"Why not?" Lucien asked.

"Because you'd tell him and also, you'd bully me for it and I don't need that."

Mundy got startled when he felt L's hand on his shoulder and it reminded him of Lulu's exact same gesture.

"M, I do like to laugh but if matters are serious, I am also able to lend an ear, as you already know."

"Do I?"

"At the Doctor's, weren't you the one who accepted to speak openly as if I wasn't there?" Lucien asked and Mundy sighed.

"Yeah, I guess."

"So you know I can listen. Go ahead if you want to speak."

"Hm… It's just… Lulu just speaks about his feelings so freely, it's insane…!"

"Do you envy that? Do you wish you too could do that?" Lucien asked and Mundy briefly looked at him before his eyes snapped back on the road. But in that furtive gaze, Lucien had read the distress that Mundy failed to hide. "I can understand." He added, to try and help.

"I'm sure you could understand the nightmare it is to live without your loved ones for so long, but I'm not sure you can anymore."

"Why?" Lucien asked.

"Because you have someone again now."

Mundy arrived in Maurice's district and parked the van where they had started their journey. He pulled the handbrake and cut the engine. Silence fell in the van.

"Having someone now does not erase the decade of my life that I have wasted." Lucien said.

"No, but it helps to forget it."

"M, I will tell you something." Mundy raised his eyes to the man in the mask. He looked focused. "I found someone who helps immensely, but if they could speak here, they would tell you that they very much feel the weight of those years on me and on us. She helps, yes, but I know that she will never heal me."

Mundy's eyebrows jumped.

"Why? How d'you know that?"

Lucien's lips pursed up in a smile.

"If you knew Perle, you would understand. She isn't the sort of company that you would expect to help me beat La Solitude completely and even worse…"

"What d'you mean worse?"

"Paradoxically enough, sometimes she makes me feel worse."

"How?"

"Because she makes me remember those easier, sweeter times. She makes me remember those times and the fact that those times ended. She is a constant reminder that whatever I have with her, or with you, or with anyone is bound to end. Nothing is ever-lasting, nothing truly means anything." Lucien answered.

"So she never goes away, the Solitude, eh? That's it, we just have to deal with it till we get Duchemin, kill him and then get killed for it, hm?" Mundy concluded.

"Non, M. What I am only saying is very specific to my case. What I am saying is that Perle helps, but she will never heal me completely."

"Can we even heal completely?" Mundy let his hands rise and fall on the steering wheel. "Can we even get out of that… that…"

"That constant, dark grey cloud around our heads?" Lucien finished his sentence for him. "I believe we can, M. I am older than you and I have seen my fair share of things in life. I have seen things your mind would not comprehend and so have you, only you don't see it that way."

Mundy raised an eyebrow, confused.

"Like what?"

"Look there." Lucien pointed through the window, at the children playing in the dirty street. "What do you see?"

"It's a bunch of kids playin'. What about it?"

"You are only seeing that?" Lucien asked. "There is so much that you are seeing but choosing to dismiss…"

"Really? Like what? What do you see then?"

"M, those children who are playing, look at their old clothes, look at their messy hair, look at the dirty street they are playing in, with no adult supervision. This is in fact a horrible sight. These children, our future, those who tomorrow will decide of the rules of our world, they are playing in the dirtiest street of their town, with an old, half-deflated ball, with no adult to make sure they are safe, and they do not care about it. And that is the worst part."

"Why?"

"Because it means that not only do they not have parents to care for them, they also now are completely familiar with the idea of them not being worth any adult's attention. That is why each time they come to deliver a message to me, I…" Lucien took a deep breath. "They remind me of my Jérémy. Little blond heads, blue eyes, an innocent outlook on life, not a care in the world, why would he?"

Mundy felt the distress in his friend's voice. He put a hand on his shoulder and tapped it gently.

"But these children, M, they do not see all this like I do. Non, they are having fun! They are enjoying their game that they are playing with the best ball they have ever had. They are growing up together, playing and enjoying their time, a time that they are not counting at all!"

Lucien turned his face away from his window to look at Mundy.

"This is what I find incredible and this is what makes me think that we can heal from whatever Duchemin did to us. The children in their non-existent wisdom show it to us everyday. Tant qu'il y a de la vie, il y a de l'espoir."

Lucien looked at the lagoon blue eyes. They reminded him of Perle's.

"As long as we live, there is hope." He translated himself.

"You think so?" Mundy asked.

"I am sure of it. If I could cut my hair, shave my unkempt beard, put on the suit and tie again, the mask, all that after ten years off; if I now manage to wear any other colours than black and grey, if I accept to work with you, then surely there is hope and I am pulling myself out of La Solitude's grip. But look at yourself, Bushman, I am sure you could see the same progression."

Mundy frowned.

"Here you are, with someone on your passenger's seat in your van, talking to this mysterious man in a mask that you don't even know the face or the name of, you even go to the Queen Victoria and watch concerts while enjoying fine food, all that while wearing a suit and tie! Would the M from five years ago ever think of doing that? Non, of course not. Yet here you are." Lucien said and Mundy's jaw dropped as he started to realise it all.

"You are not even realising it, but you are healing already."

Mundy blushed. His blood was boiling with energy as he practically buzzed on his seat. He was healing!

"I'm… Am I?" He asked.

"Oui, you are."

"Jesus, I never saw things this way before…"

"Because you have always been scared." Lucien answered.

"Of what?"

"Looking inside you."

"Why?" Mundy asked.

"Because of the risk. Think, Bushman. If you let yourself look inside here," Lucien poked Mundy's polo shirt on his chest. "Then, you take the risk of finding things that you don't want to find."

Mundy blushed.

"Guess you're right." He sighed. "But you… You're really like Lulu."

"How so?"

"You manage to put words on stuff I knew was somewhere in me, but never managed to really say."

Lucien gave him a grin that was almost sweet.

"Contrary to you, I asked myself all those questions before you. I knew the risks and I took them."

"What did you find then, in there?" Mundy poked the Frenchman's jacket on his chest like he had done a few seconds before.

"Does it matter?"

Mundy sighed. He now knew that whenever L didn't want to talk about something, he would just say "Does it matter?".

"A bit. But if you don't wanna talk about it, it's fine." He sent a sweet smile back at L. "Although, uh… Thanks."

"What for?" Lucien raised a curious eyebrows.

"I like chatting about those things. And I never really had anyone to do that with before. To be honest, that's also a reason why I quite like Lulu, he accepted to talk with me about that."

"Whenever you want, Bushman."

Their eyes met with a smile on both parts.

"But right now, let us wait for Richard to make the suits." Lucien exited the van.

"When is the party?"

Lucien looked through the van's open window.

"In a week so we have time, enjoy your holidays."

"You too, Spook."

They nodded to each other and Lucien turned to get to his motorcycle.

"L?"

Lucien turned.

"Uh, enjoy your time with Pearl, eh?"

The Frenchman smiled.

"That's all I hope for." He answered.

#tf2 spy #tf2 sniper #sniperspy #SBT

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thebleuroseproject · 3 years

Conversation

On Helena: #1

Context: I am playing Helena in a Vampire, the Masquerade game. Setting is Boston, Necropolis, 2015. Helena is mortal, currently a ghoul to another player character (Klaxon). The player characters are Klaxon (Nosferatu), Elyas (Tremere), Keri (Gangrel), Garreth (Gangrel). Our DM is Gore. Some of this conversation will be edited out as I have done this to focus on Helena and her character.

Garreth OOC: -points to Helena- baby

Alex: Helena agreed, but is also aware Garreth is also baby, so it's like the same feeling you have for the baby sitter that's two years older than you are.

***

Gore: Garreth and Klaxon have to make it out alive as they went into it. But y'all split the party on me so I can't gaurantee that.

Alex: Helena will probably come rushing back. I don't think she will move in just due to how complex her plant/heat lamp set up is.

Gore: She could leave them with her plant dealer, Gus?

Alex: She could but it's like leaving your cat with your best friend. You trust them but that's your baby, and you will worry constantly.

***

Alex: She wouldn't cope well with Klaxon having monster sex- she heard something about him fucking a demon, and having also SEEN Necropolis...so she looks at her dorm and values the quiet.

Gore: He can't bring them topside, so Helena's safe.

Alex: I don't think she knows that.... but I do think she'd miss him then.Oh my god is she the mum friend? I think she is! "AT WHAT TIME DO YOU CALL THIS?? YOU DIDN'T TEXT ME I WAS WORRIED?". Either way, she's still on the fence about her dorm and I can't push her any which way.

***

Gore: Has she heard stories about how brutal U.S cops are?

Alex: No, she's pretty shut in. She came to America for study and books, so thats EXACTLY what she's doing.

Gore: She's not aware of the political climate of it?

Alex: No, she's one of those 'I don't read the news'

Gore: Aight

Alex: I never really thought about it but I guess she is autistic. The 'outside' world doesn't really interest her on a larger scale. She's more about tasks and interests. The only reason I'M not like that is because of my flavour of anxiety being worried that I'm not a good person. I think Helena's is more about just interacting with people and her routines. She DOES love the World and humanity, but she's much more of a fan of nature because she's always found it hard to connect with people. This doesn't mean she's NASTY, she's nice to everyone and wouldn't hurt a fly - she just simply doesn't understand things like racism/homophobia on an emotional level. Historically though, of course she does.

***

Gore: What happens if one of her friends gets hurt?

Alex: She's never had that problem before really. The best example so far is with Patrick (NPC)when she was like OH GOD OH NO. Her first thoughts were practical though "I have to find him and give him first aid or whatever I can do". She has her panic attacks but like when Klaxon had his she throws it out the window and focuses on what needs to be done. She wants to be useful, she wants to help if she's needed in a people situation. Those situations are rare though, she's always been in her own little world, her parents hoped she'd get better with this but she's managed so far.

***

Gore: What if (helping) gets her into more trouble?

Alex: Hm. I think she takes things as it comes. If she was an element, she would be Earth. She's not selfish, she weathers the storm as best she can. THAT attitude has got her into trouble though, as she's still learning to be like "I need sleep" and "I don't want this.

***

Gore: Sometimes the Earth gets shaken. Would she take a direct attack to defend one of her new friends or have one of them defend her?

Alex: Hm, she would take a hit. She is vaguely aware people usually need to defend her, and feels bad about it. She's still never really had friends though, so this is new...AND in her mind she can always patch them up - even if that isn't strictly true.

***

Gore: How far can she go w/o realising she needs to patch herself up?

Alex: I mean she rushed out the door to help someone else at MIDNIGHT. For comparison, I would call the authorities and get some sleep since I would be useless sleep deprived. Helena doesn't even really put that as her first thought because she hasn't had anyone to really rely on (aside from her parents) so she feels like she has to do everything herself. She is Very respectful of authority figures but doesn't expect them to solve her problems, even with her parents, she realises in their old age she can't rely on them anymore. As a result, I think she'd go pretty far because she KNOWS the body and how it works. She will always think she can take a little more, but in reality she can't predict the impact and just how hard the next hit will be.

***

Gore: So if her legs are gone, she would still crawl to others to heal them?

Alex: Oh yeah, if she can move and has bandages. If not, she would at least move to be with them. Helena would be happy to go and then come straight back if Klaxon told her to and if she was given a use. Go there and come straight back we need to you to X for this thing.

***

Gore: You are a Brit in Boston in 2015 I gotta say that as well...

Alex: She's been fine at Uni

Gore: Up until now

Alex: It's only been a day for her, she doesn't get that yet. At Uni she does largely what she's told if given a clear reason.

Gore: Yeah but here's the thing about med school. It is highly competitive and people are always looking for excuses to flunk people out.

Alex: True. But she is VERY GOOD at what she does. I imagine that does annoy others but also it's hard to be mad at her because she's quiet about it as well as sweet, lovely and helpful to most people she meets. She knows her place with people in general, and it is at the bottom.

Gore: Some Boston people would say that you belong in the harbour with the tea

Alex: and she would clam up and walk on by.

***

Alex: Teachers like her because she's polite, studies hard and is VERY earnest in what she does. Helena making a mistake is rare, so when it happens, some shit is going down.

Gore: It sure will be

Alex: She's going to have to rush in and lie to teachers, she won't like that at ALL. Helena is a good girl but she ain't saying shit about Necropolis. She doesn't fully understand why, but she feels it in her heart to shut up.

Gore: Why?

Alex: Klaxon said they've (kindred) been around forever and have functioned this way. The heart doesn't know the lungs exist but functions anyway, yet NEEDS those lungs. She isn't loyal to humanity like that, her interest lies in medicine and they (kindred) don't seem malicious, from what she's seen.

***

Gore: Wouldn't it be a great medical advancement to study those undead and cryptids?

Alex: Yeah, but not on a huge scale. She knows about medicinal cruelty. How many have been mutilated or hurt in the name of study? With the world as it is now, no. Sure, an ideal world in Helena's mind would be all species working and living together but she KNOWS that isn't going to happen.So she will study by herself, and she's fine with that.

***

Gore: If embraced, would she study herself

Alex: Yeah, absolutely.

Gore: To what degree?

Alex: Not to like 'remove arm' degree, she would do it as needed. Like when they test new skincare on humans "I put this swatch on to see how it works". Blood samples, skin samples, bone study - she would see if she could get books on anatomy for surgery and healing.

***

Alex: The idea of studying forever appeals to her, but the passage of time scares her. She's not ready to be a vampire but she might be if she lost all her connections on the outside. I don't think it would be healthy for her though.

The joy of a mortal life is that you (hopefully) realise eventually that you have to self actualise or you WILL DIE and things will be WRONG.

Gore: What value is your own health when there's injured people?

Alex: Exactly. But I don't think she'd be her own person, she'd dedicate her life to a cause.

***

Alex: She's still developing as a person

Gore: You can develop as a kindred, it happens.

Alex: I think she thinks she might get there (being a kindred) but not at the drop of a hat.

Gore: Funny thing about death, you aren't always ready for it.

Alex: I know that, and she knows that a little. But Klaxon said she could choose, and she would like to. When it comes to big decisions I think she's slow and deliberate, like a plant. She really doesn't like change all that much.

***

Gore: You can't trust those Tremere, they can and will sell you out or use you for a ritual.

Alex: She won't see it like that, she is individual by individual. Like with her plants. HER Aloe Vera is not like any other aloe vera if you look on a deeper level, which she does.

***

Gore: She wanted to be a war medic right, has she done any internships at that level?

Alex: Not yet. She wanted to do her degree first for the skills, learn as much as she could by the boos because it's not something you can or should wing.

***

Gore: Would she squee if she met a moss or grass person?

Alex: Probably. Absolutely. Maybe quietly. She would probably love to learn to help them if they get sick. In retirement I can see her as being the best GP ever. The nurse that gives you breathing room if you have needle anxiety. The doctor that believes you and gives you a refferal. She is GOOD and I love her.

#Helena #HelenaVTM #Gore

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