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30-3am · 1 year

Text

G R O U P I E • L O V E

✰ James Hetfield ✰

" She was just a girl. Just a groupie. "

˚ · • . °

part two of ten

groupie love contents

warnings: smut, fluff, angst (the big three), more of james's internal monologue, these horny mfers don't go slow and you can't blame them, more mommy issues, oc has a lot of things she needs to sort out, and so does james, james is fucking bipolar the asshole

word count: 3.0k

˚ · • . °

Chapter Two - I'll Come With You

The muffled sounds of water running met her ears and she was suddenly all too aware of the situation. She was still lying on the bed, not daring to move and his cum was drying on her back and he hadn’t invited her into the shower so she didn’t go. She didn’t move. It was just her and her thoughts - thoughts that were swimming so fast in her brain that it scared her. What happens now? What does he do? Leaver her? He probably will. But she’d got everything she wanted, everything she needed out of this single night and she didn’t feel satisfied. Sure, she’d come and he wasn’t displeasing, but there was a strange feeling in her gut telling her something was off. And as she lay in the bed and mulled over the situation everything felt different.

The flow of water screeched to a halt. She still didn’t dare turn over. She could hear him shuffling about and he let out a singular cough before it was quiet again. But then the door swung open and she could feel James’s eyes burning into her back. She still didn’t turn around.

“You know I was hoping you’d join me.” Maybe if she pretended to be asleep he’d leave her alone. “I know you’re not asleep, sweetheart.” Damn.

And so she turned over and her gaze landed upon him, hair dripping and towel hung low on his hips. His cheeks were a little pink from the heat of the shower and there was a slight smirk etched on his face. He didn’t move for a short while, his eyes on her body and the mess of her hair. Messy girl. His cum dried on her back and hair everywhere. She really should’ve joined him in the shower.

And then, he turned around and he wasn’t looking at her anymore; instead, he was rifling through the minifridge and pulling out a beer, cracking it open and taking a long swig.

Her eyes landed on the small clock at the bedside. Twelve minutes past midnight. And he was drinking?

She decided not to question it and watched as he took a separate towel and rubbed away the water from his hair. The silence rang in her ears and she wanted to be brave enough to say something, but all (if any) of her confidence was gone when she was with him. He suffocated her mind and sense of being and she wanted to breathe - to take a long, gulping gasp of air and be brave.

So she tried with all she knew how and replied to his previous statement.

“I didn’t think you’d want me in there with you.” Too pathetic. Fuck she was bad at this.

And he laughed at her…again. He was shuffling about in his suitcase, pulling out various items of clothing and smiling to himself because this groupie he’d picked up who, quite frankly, was not confident enough nor extroverted enough to be a successful groupie, was sitting butt naked on his bed and feeling sorry for herself because she didn’t think he’d want her in there with him. The girl was funny he’d give her that.

He pulled on a fresh pair of underwear and finally turned to her, eyes flickering to her breasts as he advanced forwards and sat on the edge of his bed.

“You are strange aren’t you?” James’s hand came up to brush her hair out of her face, massaging the base of her skull and gazing into her eyes.

“I am?” It was so hard not to laugh at her and that concerned look in her eyes.

“Not in a bad way,” he clarified as he brushed his fingers through her hair and that look of insecurity was washed away.

“In what way then?” His movements in her hair stopped. Because truthfully, he didn’t know. He had no fucking clue. All he knew was that she was strange and a little weirdo but for some reason he wanted her to be his weirdo. All his friends had girlfriends and wives and he was still fucking about with whores and women he didn’t care about. He’d known this woman for a few, blissful hours and she was sitting so pretty and naked and she was strange. Because he wanted to take care of her and make her his.

“Ah, doesn’t matter.” He stood up fully, all tall and intimidating and he held a hand out to her, saying, “let’s get you in the shower.”

She looked at his open palm and placed her hand on his. The skin was rough and calloused and so big. It was comical how small her hands looked in his.

And she let him drag her along to the bathroom, dropping her hand so he get the water flowing. The steam from his shower was still billowing around the room and the warmth was making her feel sleepy as she stood awkwardly in the doorway.

“Come on,” he muttered, watching as she stepped in with shaky legs. She went under the flow of water and he just watched. Her hands were in her hair, wetting it and it was like she was purposefully being seductive. The water was running down her face and her body and her skin looked so soft and he’d just gotten out of the shower ten minutes ago but was there such a thing as being too clean?

So he pulled off his underwear and stepped in right behind her. And he was so quiet and she was so into her shower that she jumped when he placed his hands on her hips and pulled her back into his chest.

“What-.”

“Shhh,” he muttered, letting her go and reaching for the little hotel shampoo and conditioner. “You okay with…” he squinted to read the small text on the bottle. “Huh. Coconut, almond and…how the fuck do you say that word?”

“James,” she turned around to look at him and her hair was brushed back out of her face, the little makeup she’d worn washed away and her features on full display for him. She was looking up at him and god she was gorgeous. “You just got out of the shower.” He could’ve sworn she smiled a little but it was gone as soon as he saw it and that pouty little face was back again. He’d make her smile.

“Well, it’s not really my shower, it’s yours. I’m just here to help.” He placed a hand on her cheek and rubbed at the soft skin, her eyes piercing into his. “Now turn around so I can put coconut in your hair.” And she laughed. All soft and breathy and it made his heart…no. Too far. She had nothing to do with his heart.

James removed his hand from her face and let her turn herself around. He squeezed some of the shampoo into his hand and started to massage it into her scalp, not missing the little moan she let out as he did so. And it was silent for a little bit, James rubbing the shampoo into her hair far longer than he needed to and her almost falling into his chest at his movements. She was already sleepy and the warmth of the shower and the softness of his touch was only adding to her drowsiness.

Her name was on his lips as he turned her around and guided her under the water, removing the soap from her hair.

“Mhm,” she replied.

“You doing anything tomorrow?” And she felt warmth at his question.

“No.” He turned her back around so he could add the conditioner to her ends. He was surprisingly good at washing hair.

“Good.” This time he grabbed the soap and his hands were on her skin, starting at her shoulders and back, trailing dangerously lower. “We’re playing tomorrow.” His hands were on her stomach and she was falling back into his chest. “But after that, you come here and I’ll be waiting for you.” Lower. Lower.

And her head was falling onto his shoulder and she was gasping as he moved his fingers in slow circles on her clit. Who could blame him? He can’t keep his hands off her. And he wanted to hear her pretty little moans again. He wanted to be inside her again. But that was a little much. Poor girl's legs were already shaking.

“You sit where you were sitting tonight.” He ran a finger through her folds and he knew it wasn’t the water making her all wet. “Don’t let fucking Daniel speak to you again.” Daniel? Who was Daniel? Roadie Daniel? “If he even looks at you I’ll knock him clean out and make sure he loses his job.” And he pushed his finger inside of her, eliciting a little moan from her and he could feel his cock hardening.

He had to admit he was being overly possessive but he was pussy drunk and her hand came up to claw at his hair and he had to wrap his free arm around her waist to make sure she stayed upright and she was making him so weak.

“James.” The moan of his name only spurred him on, his movements inside her speeding up. And he was adding another finger, his pace quickening and the grip she had on his hair was getting so tight he had to grit his teeth together.

“You should come with me.” She was melting into him and his words had barely registered.

“What?” Her voice was breathless and his palm was rubbing against her sensitive clit. Her eyes were squeezed tightly shut and she was losing it. She was losing herself to him.

“Come with me.” The water was loud against the shower tile and at this point, she’d say yes to anything he asked. “Wherever I go, you come.” His arms were squeezed so tightly around her middle it felt like she was suffocating and his fingers were pounding into her so fast she couldn’t feel anything around her; she was numb to the stiflingly hot water and her painful grip on his hair. All she could feel was the static in her lower stomach that was spreading further along her body with each thrust of his fingers and the fuzziness of her head as he kissed her open mouth.

Her other hand was grabbing at his forearm, nails scratching at the surface of his skin and he had to suppress his own groan. He moved his fingers faster, thrusting up inside of her and he could tell he’d got her when she moaned loudly into his mouth.

“Come with me.” He whispered it this time, low and quiet in her ear and her orgasm hit her so unexpectedly that her knees buckled under her and James had to keep her upright with one arm. “There you go. Good girl, pretty girl.” He kissed the skin of her neck as the wave of pleasure slowed and she was so stimulated already that he decided now wasn’t the time to be mean, so he softly pulled his fingers out of her and shushed her whimpers with a small kiss to her cheek.

Her ears were ringing, her legs shaking and she was wondering how on earth he did that with just his fingers.

“You okay there?” He asked as she slowly opened her eyes, his arms encircling her body and holding her close.

And his body was so warm and wet, the water still running and she felt an overwhelming sense of clarity. Because she knew she wanted to be here, with him, for as long as she could. This man she’d only seen in photos and on MTV was holding her after fingering her in a hotel shower and everything was telling her this is what she wanted. What she needed.

“I’ll come with you.”

“Huh?”

She turned round in his hold and buried her face into his chest. He tensed around her because this was the most she’d done to further anything in the short time he’d known her. And she was breaking away from that shy little girl he’d found and he couldn’t help but smile as her lips brushed against her skin and she said again: “I’ll come with you.”

He guided her under the flow of water, her small hands still grabbing at him and he knew she wasn’t letting go. And he silently washed away the conditioner, letting her hold onto him. Once he was done, they both just stood - her arms still around him and James just thinking.

She was holding him like she needed him. Like if she were to let go she’d break. He shouldn’t have got involved with her. He should’ve just fucked the first groupie he saw, maybe fucked one of his regulars in this state but he was so drawn to her. She was strange and weird but pretty and easy to get lost in. He shouldn’t have got involved in her because now he’d done it, he was certain it was going to go horribly wrong. He knew she was going to get hurt. It had been two or three hours and she was already clinging to him. She was already depending on him.

“There’s always room on the bus.” He broke the silence, hesitantly brushing his hands through her wet hair and turning off the shower. “They can’t say no to me. I’ll get you on there. All the others bring their girlfriends and shit so just pack a bag and come with me.”

She didn’t have much here. It wasn’t like they were going to be on tour forever. She’d say bye to her Mom, tell her that she was gonna be gone for a little bit and when the inevitable questions came she’d answer honestly and she’d get called a whore but it didn’t matter. Because she’d be with him. Him.

“Let’s dry you off, come on.” She didn’t want to let go but he was already pulling away and she didn’t want to be a bother. When he was gone she felt so cold and open. She shivered in her spot and she knew he noticed.

“You know when you’re with me,” she looked at him - his eyes were dark and his jaw was clenched; he looked serious and she crossed her arms over her body, feeling vulnerable under his cold stare. “You’re just a groupie.”

She tried so hard to show no emotion on her face but she knew she was terrible at lying and concealing her feelings. She didn’t want him to think she thought it was anything but sex. Because she knew that’s what it was. She knew. She knew when she decided she was gonna go to the hotel that all she was was an outlet. Something for him to let his frustrations out on. That’s what she’d always been. But it hurt more than she liked to admit. It felt different. She knew it did. Just obviously not to him.

So she nodded. “I know.”

And he nodded back, passed her a towel and walked out of the room, scarily distant and detached. She quietly dried herself off, purposefully taking longer than she needed to, oblivious to how loud James’s thoughts were.

His beer was no longer cold and his head was swimming. That look on her face. She didn’t know she was doing it but why did it make him feel bad? He’d never taken a groupie on tour with him before and he knew when he asked her that that's all she was gonna be. So why did he feel bad for her? Did she expect more? He took a long swig of his beer, scoffing. Why was he thinking about this? She was just a girl. Just a groupie.

The bathroom door clicked open and his eyes snapped to her. She was wrapped up in those fluffy hotel towels and she looked so vulnerable. She was just a girl and he’d upset her like a fucking asshole.

“Come here.” He ushered her towards him, watching as she shuffled over, towel wrapped tightly around her. “Sit.” He patted his legs. And she sat, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face in his chest just like she’d done before in the shower. And he didn’t care that her towel was making his clean clothes damp and he didn’t care that her hair was dripping and cold against him. Because she was there and she was coming with him.

“We leave on Monday. Early morning.” It was Saturday. Technically Sunday. A day and she’d be off with a guy who treated her no different than anybody else. She knew it was wrong, she knew the whole situation was entirely fucking crazy and that she should take her Mothers advice. Go get a job, find a husband and settle down instead of dreaming of things that would never be. But she didn’t want to. That wasn’t her life. And she was given an opportunity she thought she’d never get and she was taking it.

“I’ll be there.” He squeezed her once before letting her go, manoeuvring her so she was laying on the bed. He pulled off her wet towel and threw it in the corner of the room. He leaned over her and kissed her softly, cradling the back of her head and leaning over her.

“I know you will.” James pulled the covers over her, situating himself next to her naked body and he finished off his beer, setting it down on the bedside table and wrapping his arm around her. “I probably won’t be here when you wake up. Rehearsals and shit.”

“Okay.” She was falling asleep in his arms, eyes growing heavy. “That’s fine.”

God and she was snuggling into his side and she was warm and soft and naked and there was a nagging feeling in the back of his mind, a kind of certainty that he was seriously gonna fuck up this poor girl's life. Yeah, he wasn’t getting any sleep that was for sure.

˚ · • . °

A/N: chapter two!! it's shorter than last week's cause it's just porn really. not a lot of plot. i did rush this but at least it's out. please tell me what you think cause i do appreciate it.

see you next week 💕

#james hetfield #metallica #groupie love #james hetfield x reader #james hetfield smut #james hetfield fanfiction #metallica smut #metallica x reader #metallica fanfiction #metallica x oc

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h2bakugou · 3 years

Note

oh my god hi, ive binge read all your stuff recently tbh XD

Can i request a song fic for one Bakuhoe please? I feel “Fruit Roll Ups” by Waterparks would work perfectly for him (x gn!reader ofc)

I hope that made sense? yeah sorry XD THANK YOU IF YOU DO akskhfjfkdka

a/n: hii!! yes! i just started playing this song to write this request, and i am HOOKED. it's so good, and it radiates such bakugou energy.

summary: bakugou realizes he has a bit of a soft spot for you.

song: Fruit Roll Ups by Waterparks

key: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / (y/q) - your quirk

warnings: swearing, fluff

word count: 1k (lyrics included)

> fanart < made by the lovely @windex-princess-ami for this story!!

;cut for length;

»»————-　★　————-««

I got some Fruit By The Foot if you wanna come over Yeah, you can wrap your arms so tight Right 'round my shoulders In case you're scared of the movies I pick I'm sorry in advance for that shit

Your phone screen illuminates with a text from your boyfriend who's deemed 'katsu bae<3' in your contacts. His message is short and sweet, saying he picked up from snacks for your arranged movie night if you were ready to head on over.

You shoot a message back saying you'd be over in a few minutes. You'd been looking forward to spending a bit more time with him. Training had kept the both of you busy lately.

You look forward to cuddling with him because you know he'll pick something spooky, maybe a thriller. You know he's just using it as an excuse for you to snuggle into him. But you don't mind.

Bakugou feels a little bad for making you watch stupid scary movies that he finds to be rather annoying or funny while you may jump or cling to him when he wants to bust out laughing.

When you talk It's in cursive to me And it's nicer than anything I'd believe about me It's like that shit was written in gel pen And I love those

You're sitting in his lap this time around, his arms draped around your shoulders. You're just chatting about your day but Bakugou is kind of zoning out. He's listening, but he's just hearing your voice. It's angelic and beautiful.

He can't quite understand how you can sound so beautiful, almost like your voice was writing in cursive, the delicate strokes were the way you sounded out his name.

And whenever you complimented him, he felt warm inside. Whenever you said anything about him, he felt warm inside. You were so kind. So loving. He wasn't sure how you just seemed to brush his brashness aside, but you did, and it astounded him.

If you want to see me Acting so desperately So desperately All you gotta do is stop texting me Just to flex on me

Bakugou can't stand it when you text him all the time, asking him to come over when you're laying in bed, blowing up his phone even though he's supposed to be sleeping.

He's not mad. He's jealous. He wants to be right there beside you, but he isn't. He replies 'if you wanna see me so bad then just come over.' but you usually just tell him to go to bed and that it's past his little bedtime.

Bakugou knows you just love messaging him goodnight whenever it is you go to sleep. And he'll wait for those messages. And if it's been too long, and you don't respond, you'll always wake up with a 'goodnight dumbass <3' from him in the morning, way too late for him to have stayed up.

It's true I'm a little bitch for you now I don't wanna say it way too loud But I'm a little bitch for you now

Bakugou hates it. The way you make him feel. It's the good kind of hate, the kind of hate you learn to love. Like hearing that one song on repeat so much you end up adding it to your playlist because you have it memorized at this point anyway.

He feels warm and happy. He feels like maybe he doesn't deserve someone like you. You're so perfect, so perfect for him, maybe too perfect even.

Bakugou can't help but mumble to himself that he's gotten soft, and Kaminari's teasing comments certainly don't help either. He's supposed to be the tough number one hardass, but here you are breaking him out of that stupid little box he's locked himself in to try and remain on top.

He'd already fallen, fallen so hard and so far for you.

I bought these really sick lights if you wanna come over They tried to scam me twice But look, they both can change colors like that Like that, oh oh

Bakugou refuses to send you any regular pictures after Kaminari practically bought those LED light strips for him. Though it was far too hard to actually purchase them and install them, Bakugou's always sending you some pic in the pretty red lights or moody blue ones.

You enjoy laying on his bed while they're on, listening to him talk about what Deku said to him earlier while you switch them to green just to egg him on. He's complaining shouting at you to change them back to orange or red.

You switch them to your favorite color and now he can't complain-even if your favorite color is green.

I don't wanna leave my house 'Cause in here I'm the ruler With my refrigerator Full of Pacific Cooler But for you, I'd brave all the traffic outside The way you brave all the bullshit I hold inside

When Bakugou leaves the privacy of his loneliness to be with you, he's vulnerable. But he tolerates it, swallowing down those weird feelings he's never really understood before.

But he does it. He braves it for you. The way you stand up to him when he's a jerk to Midoriya, or when he raises his voice at you, or when you spar and he's not holding back. You tell him to let it out. Everything he keeps inside, you tell him you can handle it, and you do.

He doesn't understand how you do it. But he doesn't want to.

Oh it's true, ooh I'm a little bitch for you now I'm a little bitch, oh my God Did I say that too loud? It's true I'm a little bitch for you now I don't wanna say it way too loud But I'm a little bitch for you now

"Fuck, I love you so fuckin' much." Bakugou mumbles against your forehead as you cuddle.

You smile against his chest, nuzzling into him more. He freezes when he feels your smile.

"You didn't hear that..." He replies softly, nuzzling himself into your hair, flustered by his own words of admiration for you.

"You know I love you just as much right? Even if it sounds cheesy." You lift your head to look him in his crimson-colored eyes. He just hums quietly, leaning down to press a little kiss to your cheek.

"I know. I just, wanna remember this moment for a while." Bakugou replies, closing his eyes as he holds you close.

"You wanna split a fruit roll-up after?" You ask quietly.

"Mhm."

»»————-　★　————-««

masterlist

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elleonmybeloved · 3 years

Text

Zhongli invites the traveler to sit on his lap. His treat.

“It’s not that running around this much is hard for me. It’s just that... I’m not used to having all my weight on my feet for this long. I had no idea they would get this sore just from standing on them.”

“I see. I find that a bit peculiar. If not on your feet, how else would you be getting around?” Zhongli asks, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “Hmm...”

“Don’t worry about it.” Lumine says, not really interested in having the ‘had wings but they got stolen’ conversation when she’s in such a good mood. “But could I trouble you for a chair?”

There aren’t any in the room, and she’s not so bold as to just shamelessly sit on someone else’s bed. Especially such a fancy one.

“Ah yes, of course, it’s no trouble.” Zhongli nods. “However, I’m afraid that in terms of chairs, I have none.”

What.

“When furnishing my personal quarters, I ran out of mora before I could purchase any.” He elaborates at her baffled look. “Indeed, it was probably the gold-woven bedsheets... or perhaps the jasmine scented silk pillows? that drained the last of my allotted funds.”

“Oh, okay.” She tries really hard not to laugh, covering her face with one hand to hide her smile. “I’ll just sit on the floor.”

Zhongli misreads her covered expression as one of distress. “The floor? Come now, there’s no need for that. Please feel free to use the bed, so long as you take off your shoes first.”

Ah, it’s unfair. The casualness with which he just invited her to his bed, completely unaware of her enormous crush on him. There’s no way she could just sit on the bed where he sleeps... probably shirtless... like the statue of Rex Lapis. Besides, she’s been outside all day and her clothes would probably get it dirty.

“Thanks, but I can’t. I’d rather sit on the floor.”

Zhongli frowns. This is not going anywhere near as well as he had hoped when he suggested they go to his dwelling and discuss matters in private after the dinner he had treated her to. He’d imagined something far more romantic, and yet here she was, chosing the cold hard floor rather than his very nice, extremely comfortable, pleasant smelling bed.

Maybe she didn’t like him. Maybe he had misread what he had assumed to be the flirting advances of courtship, and she had just been being friendly.

“May I ask why?”

Lumine shifts uncomfortably under his gaze. “Well... it’s just a bit... I don’t know. I would be nervous. Besides, where would you sit?”

She is blushing. He smiles. Of course, she’s nervous. Any woman, alone with a man in his personal room would be wary of the implications of joining him on his bed.

“No need to feel shy.” He says. “I’ll gladly share my personal space with you. Rather than my bed, you can sit on me if you prefer.”

Zhongli takes off his shoes, hangs up his jacket, and goes to sit on his bed. He pats his thigh invitingly.

Lumine gingerly places her boots against the wall and hesitantly steps up in front of him.

“I don’t want to get your bed dirty.” She says, tugging at her skirt.

“Hmm. Take it off then.” He says.

“My dress?”

“I assume you have something on underneath. I assure you no one will barge in and see you in a state of undress, if you’re worried about that.”

“I- I do, but it would be awkward for me to be like that when you’re fully dressed.” Its the truth, Lumine would feel self conscious in the body-hugging one piece of innerwear she has under her dress but really, she would just like to see Zhongli without clothing.

She’s already got an idea of what his tall, muscular figure looks like.

“I suppose you’re right.” He says, rich voice filled with amusement. “Very well, I’ll divest myself of a few layers.”

Lumine watches happily as Zhongli takes off not only his vest, but his dress shirt as well. His skin is pale and she really appreciates the view of his broad chest and muscular stomach. How did she know he would have a six pack? Intuition... perhaps.

Feeling bolder now, she grips the hem of her skirt and lifts her dress up and over her head, discarding it on the floor beside her.

Zhongli’s amber eyes burn into her own.

“Come sit.” He says.

The bed creaks as she climbs up into his lap, pulse jumping as strong hands grip her waist and help her settle between his legs. He moves back a bit towards the center of the bed so that he can draw his legs up and cross them behind her.

His hands don’t leave their spot on her waist.

“There we go,” He says. “Much better.”

It’s not very relaxing. They’re in each other’s personal space, and Zhongli’s face is even more attractive up close. If he bent forward just a little he could..... His hands give her hips a squeeze, and she can read something in his gaze that makes her mouth go dry.

“Do you like this?” He asks.

“Yes.” She says.

“You’re so tense.” He murmurs, trailing his hands up her sides. They stop but an inch under the swell of her chest. His face is very close to hers and his gaze rests on her lips. “Let me... loosen you up.”

“Ple-please -ah-“ She meant to say ‘please do’ but his hands had shifted, thumbs rubbing her nipples over the thin fabric, and it stole her breath and sent an electric jolt to her core.

A pleased hum rumbles deeply in Zhongli’s throat at her expression and he presses a deep, romantic kiss against her lips. He moves them firmly against hers in an addicting slow motion, and she cranes her neck forward to press them harder together. Her nipples peak against his thumbs and grow sensitive from the touching, heat pooling wetly in her core.

They kiss for a long time, and by the moment he breaks free to give them air, they are both breathless and hot. The fabric of Zhongli’s slacks is tented between his legs, straining up towards his bare stomach.

Zhongli gives her a hot look and shifts her to the side on his lap, her crotch over his thigh. Then he begins to gently rock her on it. Thrilled, she moves her hips back and forth, pressing her core down hard as she grinds her sex on his leg. There’s gonna be a wet spot on his trousers.

He starts kissing her again, and this time, his tongue prods mischeviously into her mouth to stroke at her own. An aroused moan has him stiffening against her. She can’t keep up with these deep, intense kisses, and she breaks free to gasp for air.

“Just -ha- a second- Zhongli.”

“Mmhm.” He strokes the sensitive shell of her ear as he waits. She leans into his touch.

After a minute, he gently lifts her chin. “May I?”

She nods, and he’s back at her lips, kissing, licking, and gently biting and he coaxes her back down into the mindless haze of seduction. The friction of her grinding is tantalizing, but just a tease, and nowhere near the amount of pressure she would like. She squirms in his lap and whines into his mouth.

He chuckles in his deep baritone, a fond sound, and grasps her hips to shift her over and drag her sex up and down his clothed erection instead. It feels even better, and the pressed silhouette of his cock has her mind reeling at the size.

“Let me inside you, my love.” He says, breaking the kiss, and her heart soars at the endearment. “You will feel much better.”

“Okay.” She says bravely. “Just be gentle... go-go easy on me.”

“Of course.” He says, and unzips his pants, freeing his erection from its confines. It’s kind of hot how he keeps his pants on, somehow still elegant and refined even in such a lewd state. His cock is just as pale as the rest of his beautiful skin, but smooth and thick where it juts up from between his legs. The tip of it glistens with pre.

Zhongli helps her out of her undergarment, balancing her weight as she shrugs out of it and shimmies it down to slide off her legs. Now fully bare, he draws her into his arms in a tight embrace. Big man as he is, the hug almost completely envelops her.

“You are very, very beautiful.” He says sweetly into her ear, and she shivers at his deep voice. “I have dreamed of this...”

He lowers her down slowly, pressing the head of his member against her opening until her slick folds yield. She bites her lip at the stretch, making a distressed sound.

Zhongli licks two of his fingers and then reaches down to the apex of her sex and swirls them in circles over her bud, soothing her as he presses her down inch by inch. When he is hilted to the base, he gives her a moment to adjust to his girth, toying with her clit in rubbing motions. Every motion strokes the flames of fire growing in her stomach, and her pussy clenches down around him with an aroused squeeze.

“That’s it.” He murmurs, beginning to thrust shallowly. “Relax for me.”

When her walls no longer have so much give and his shaft slides easily in and out, he picks up the pace, hilting himself completely with each thrust now.

Lumine watches his length disappear inside her again and again, mesmerized. It starts to feel amazing when he hits a spot deep inside her, and she shivers at the sensation of it like it’s in her head. Unwittingly, she starts dropping her weight down on him, wanting to feel it more. But true to his promise to be gentle with her, it’s not quite hard enough.

“Go rougher.” She says, clutching his shoulders. “Please.”

He does, shifting his hands to palm her ass so that he can lift her up and down with more ease, and there’s a slapping sound at each contact. It’s stimulating that spot so well, and she moans out at the intense pleasure.

“Mo-more!” She pleads, pressure in her stomach coiling tighter.

Zhongli complies, slamming her down hard on his cock, grunting with the effort but barely breaking a sweat. She is shuddering and moaning in sweet pleasure, and he wants nothing more than to see her come apart on his dick.

Lumine withstands but five minutes of this, and she gasps and snaps her hips forward when she hits her climax, trembling all over as she lets out a weak moan. Her eyelids flutter, and drool leaks from the corner of her parted lips as the ecstasy steals her strength and coherence, leaving her body limp.

Zhongli pulls out of her and strokes himself to completion, pearly white streaks of cum dripping onto his spent lover’s stomach. He brushes the blonde bangs from Lumine’s damp forehead with a tender gesture.

“Come,” He says after a moment. “Let us bathe and take a rest.”

“You’ll have to carry me there.” Lumine says with a breathless smile. “I don’t think I can stand right now... and it has nothing to do with my aching feet.”

“Ah, yes.” He nods, looking the most chagrined she’s seen him yet. “I -ahem- can absolutely take care of that.”

#genshin impact #Genshin impact zhongli #zhongli x lumine #smut #alright all of you in my ask box come get your order while it’s hot lmao #would’ve made this zhongli x reader but two people in my inbox did specify they wanted Lumine so #here we are

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i-am-infinite · 3 years

Text

Guilt (Part 2): The Market

(Din Djarin x ForceSensitive!F!Reader)

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Description: Moff Gideon has found someone else to run his experiments on and word gets back to Din. Will he take his son far away and try and find somewhere safe? Or will the guilt of an innocent being put in his son’s place eat away at him? (No Y/N or ___ used)

Word Count: 4.5K

Warnings: violence, mention of blood, needles, crude talk, symtoms of anxiety attack, fluff, angst, implied death and death, let me know if I'm missing any

A/N: This took a while to write because I was really distraught after Chpt 14. Also planning on turning this into a little series. I'm going to try and finish it before my next semester starts in Feb. I also don’t know how to write fight sequences so sorry in advance.

You see a stormtrooper take aim at your rescuer. Right when he pulls the trigger, you reach your hand out screaming, “NO!”

It was supposed to miss him. It missed him before. Instead of bending out of the way, it hits him and the Mandalorian goes down fast. Before you know it, more troopers come, grabbing Dr. Pershing and dragging him away. They start coming towards you when you hear yourself say, “No, please no!” You could run towards the speeders, but there’s too many of them now, they can catch up easier. Looking back at the shiny man, tears leave your eyes. You were supposes to save him. That’s how it was supposed to happen. You start screaming the only name you know for him as a stormtrooper grabs your arms and has them twisted behind your back. Dragging you back to where you escaped from, the stormtrooper is calling your name.

He keeps calling it as he shakes your arms then follows it with, “Wake up.” Why does that mechanical voice sound different from the rest? The words echo in your head. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up.

The stormtrooper helmets transforms into the one of the Mandalorian as you open your eyes. His hands leave your upper arms as he crouches in front of you. Still disoriented, your own hand comes up to your cheeks to shield your face when you realize it feels damp to the touch. Closing your eyes again and taking deep breathes you have to tell yourself over and over again: He’s here. I’m here. It was just a dream. Finally calmed down, you open your eyes to Mando still squatting in front of you.

“You okay?” His modulated voice says to you. Nodding your head while wiping way the last of the tears, you can’t help but feel heat rise to your cheeks, wishing you could just disappear as you sink further into the copilot chair. “You want to talk about it?” he tentatively asks next. If it were anyone else, you would’ve probably said no, but seeing his tenderness as he cared for Grogu over the past few hours in hyperspace makes you give in.

“We- we were back there, about to get on the speeders,” your heart rate picks up again thinking of it. You have no idea why the dream is affecting you this much. Continuing on with a shaky voice, “The stormtrooper, h- he shot you before I- I could- and” tears were forming in your eyes again, “and they st- started dragging me off and-” your voice suddenly barely above a whisper as you continue, “you weren’t moving.”

You shouldn’t have shared it. Oh gosh, you wish you could take it back now. He hasn’t said anything. He probably thinks you’re weak now, unable to handle yourself, let alone a nightmare. It was a stupid dream, you are about to tell him when you hear him sigh, “Give me your hand.” Confused, you hesitate, causing him to tilt his helmet to the side and hold out his hand. Giving in, you hold out your own, placing it in his still hesitant. Moving his hand down to your wrist, gripping it lightly as he moves it his chest plate, he speaks again, “Feel this? This is beskar, strong enough to withstand blaster shots. While what you did was impressive, all you stopped from happening is me having to clean my back plate later.” Your face falls at this, noticing it, he brings his other hand over yours. You feel all the heat you have left in your body run up to your face. He declares, “That dream wouldn’t have come true. You’re safe. They won’t get to you again, I promise.”

Still with your hand against the cool metal, all you can say is, “Oh. Thank you.” You wait for him to let go of your hand and wrist before you pull away, but he still hasn’t. Grogu stirs on the chair to your right, waking up after seeming to have slept through your nightmare. As if the noise startled Mando, he finally lets go and picks up his son. Clanking could be heard coming up from the ladder.

Mando sits back in the pilot chair with the little green child who keeps trying to reach for the different buttons on his lap, as Dr. Pershing also seems to have finally woken up. Coming into the cockpit carrying a discarded IV bag. Oops. Should have put that back in at some point.

Pershing comes as squats to the side of your chair, blocked off by the arm rest. “Looks like you’ve got some of your color back, which is good. Just to be safe, you should probably leave this in for longer.” Just nodding your head in response, scared your voice will falter, but now not knowing if it was from the dream or the prolonged touch of the beskar man. Or the fact that Pershing just pointed out how you’re blushing right in front of the person who caused in the first place.

Trying not to look up at Mando, due to sheer embarrassment, you fail at your task when he turns to watch Pershing with the child still on his lap. He tries to be causal of his hand on his thigh, a little too close to his blaster as the doctor gets closer to you, while Grogu plays with his fingers. Father and protector, you smile to yourself. Realizing your line of gaze, he moves his other hand to hold to his child and abruptly turns his chair towards the stars as you feel a cold pinch in your arm.

The next hour or so is spent in silence, preparing to land on who-knows-what-planet. As long as you can get off this chilly ship and descend out of the numbness of space, it doesn’t matter where. You might be being a little over-dramatic, but wearing a now torn, thin, short sleeved shirt, some sort of pants with blaster powder now littering it, and no shoes, you think you deserve the right to be just a tad dramatic. The IV bag is finally finished, so there’s one less ice-cold thing touching your skin. Still you shiver in your seat, not wanting to impose too much and ask for a blanket or a change of clothes. Hopefully wherever you get off is warm, or at least warmer.

Finally descending, you see tall, colorful structures, bright blue skies, and so much green. It’s beautiful. You can’t take your gaze off the gorgeous landscape getting larger before your eyes. Pulling your legs away from your chest, you brave the cold floor yet again to try and get a closer look. Audibly making a noise as you shiver, both men turn towards you, finally taking in your tattered appearance. With a static-y sigh, your starting to think that’s how he starts everything he says, the Mandalorian notes, “We should probably get you some better clothes.” His helmet points down to your feet, then tilts as he says, “And shoes.”

Bare feet hit the luscious green grass, toes curling and uncurling into it as you deeply inhale the fresh air. The sun hitting your skin makes you feel alive again, warming you from outside to inside. It’s as if you can feel the golden rays pouring out of you. You have never seen nature as brilliant and as vibrant as it is here, you never want to leave its warmth. Too caught up in your own little world, you don’t notice the two men start walking towards the city. Grogu babbling in Mando’s bag snaps you out of it and you slightly jog to try and catch up to them.

It takes a while to walk into the city, considering where Mando landed his ship. By the time you actually get there, your feet feel like one of the thousand rocks you’ve stepped on during this journey. The armored man barely seems to notice at first of you trailing behind, only stopping when the city is finally in view. So now to top of being cold and unequipped for this amount of walking, you are now tired. Grrrwwww. And hungry. Hopefully no one heard the atrocious noise your stomach just made. When was the last time you ate?

Mando must of heard it growl because before you can react, he tosses you a few credits and tells you to go get something to eat while he takes Pershing somewhere to set up his new life. You didn’t catch the last part because you’re already following your nose to the nearest source of food. While walking away you hear more static come out of his helmet, like he was sighing again, but it wasn’t the same as last time. It almost sounded like a laugh. Was... was he laughing at you? You whip your head around, but they’ve already disappeared. Shaking your head, you turn back and let your stomach take the lead again.

Mando and Grogu finally come back when you are all about done with this meat on a stick. They find you sitting in front of this little shop, eyes closed in bliss about finally eating. There’s barely anyone around, so it was not very hard to spot you. Finally looking up, ripping one of the last pieces off the kebob, you beam up at him. You don’t know it but seeing you happy after the events of this morning, brings a smile to the bounty hunter’s face. Offering his hand to help you stand, he asks, “Better?” You nod your head in response while he helps pull you up. Shoving he little piece of meat into your mouth, you hear his voice yet again, “What even is that?”

“I don’t know,” you counter. “All I know if that it smelled really good. Honestly if I knew what it was, I probably wouldn’t be able to eat it,” you finish with a giggle. He just nods, still without you seeing the smile planted on his face. You two walk side by side going into the city, with Grogu in a bag on his father’s hip of course.

You can hear the main part of the city before you actually see it. People are bustling, vendors litter the streets, it’s astonishing. And overwhelming, very overwhelming. Your breath hitches as you recall that a vendor was the way they found you before. But no, no you’re safe with the Mandalorian, he said they wouldn’t get to you. No, that he wouldn’t let them get to you. Without noticing, you start walking closer to Mando, more into his personal space than he usually likes. You’re close enough to graze his hand while walking, and right now you desperately want to reach out and grab it. Okay, it’s okay, just focus on your breathing, in and out, in and out.

Too busy trying to calm yourself, you don’t notice Mando look over at you after he felt you invade his space. He whispers to you, “Are you okay?” but the volume is too much to get his question to your ears. Instead he lightly puts his hand at the small of your back, causing you to slightly jump. Looking around, your line of vision finally falls on the bounty hunter’s arm, now removed from your back, moving back towards his side. A blush creeps up to your cheeks as your realize that he noticed you. Pull it together. You manage to walk only a few more feet until someone bumps into you and instinct takes over as you grab onto something to steady yourself. The thing that happens to be is Mando’s arm.

Luckily, he extends it behind your back to steady you, but not before sending the poor soul that accidentally bumped you what can only assumed is a death glare. That poor man turns as pale as a ghost. You almost forgot how menacing he could be. You’ve only been on the receiving end of Mando’s protection and don’t want to know what the opposite would be like. You two continue to walk with his arm guiding you, until you see it. Shoes. You nearly forgot about the pain in your feet until you saw them. Hand no longer on your back, you hurry forward, leaving the now frenzied and confused Mandalorian behind.

Reaching the stand, you turn to find Mando with his hand on his blaster and his bucket of a helmet frantically looking around the area for a sign of danger. The T of his visor finally looks back at you and you just mouth to him, shoes! and then point at your bare feet. He tilts his head to the side and you just know that he sighed. Shaking your head, you let out a huff of air that resembles a laugh at his signature way of expressing himself.

Before you know it, you have new shoes, already on your feet, a few shirts and two pairs of pants. Mando insisted you have layers because who knows where they might end up. This begs the question, what kind of trouble has he gotten into before, better yet what trouble are you getting yourself into? Babbles from a hidden baby remind you that maybe the trouble is worth it.

The shiny man and you continue walking around the marketplace of the city. He said he wanted to see if they had any spare parts that he could use for the Razor Crest and you were just happy to be wearing boots and having the extra time to break them in. “You can go look around if you want, I’m going to be over here,” Mando states as he inspects some round, gear-looking thing. Figuring you’d get bored of the mechanical items, you go to wander. “Hey,” the modulated voice cuts through again, “stay close.” Nodding, you only go two booths down to look at the books laid out.

Eyes scan to find anything remotely related to this thing, this power, you and Grogu possess. In the back of your mind also knowing you’re searching for something to tell you more about Mandalorian culture, as you have become intrigued by your new companion. While looking, something shiny, much like Mando, catches your eye. Turning to the next booth, the item seems to be a hair pin. You freeze.

A flower hair pin. Pearl in the center, with gray and white iridescent petals. No, no, no, no this can’t be happening. It feels like you can’t get enough air into your lungs. Your legs feel like lead, but you need to get out of there, you have to. The table has more unfinished glass pieces there too, just like before. They can find you. They can get you. They can get the baby. No that can’t happen, you force your tense legs to move as your hands shake. Backing up away from the stand, you bump into the book stand, letting a stack of books fall into the dirt. “Sorry, sorry,” you say with an unsteady voice. You need to find Mando, you need to find the baby, you need to -

Hands grab the back of your shoulders, as you think it’s over. You try to shake them off when you’re turned around to a familiar T visor. You stop fighting against him and grab his forearms. Your breathing still hasn’t slowed as he asks with a sternness you haven’t heard from him, “What happened?”

You can’t think of how to explain with your mind and heart racing and can only answer with, “We need to get out of here.” He pesters why to better understand the situation but all you can answer with is, “please,” as tears threaten to spill. “We need to get out of here please Mando.” He looks around confused, trying to find any source of danger, but turns his attention back to you when your grip tightens and you try to pull the three of you out of there.

He lets you lead him to the edge of the city, back towards the green scenery you landed in. Finally stopping you with his hands on your shoulders again, he calls your name, “You need to tell me what is going on.” Taking a few breaths trying to compose yourself, you explain how the day before you were taken, you were at a shop similar to the one you were at. How you saw this hair pin then cut your hand while the person working tried to help you clean up. Explaining how you thought nothing of it, until you realized they wanted your blood for experiments. You barely make it through telling him that you saw the same set up with the hair pin at that booth.

“That’s how they must have found me. We need to get out of here before they recognize us, please,” you plead. His helmet hangs down low as he slides one hand down to take your hand and begins walking back towards the ship.

Arriving back at the ship, Mando hands you the bag filled with new clothes, “Go change, I’ll take care of this.” Just thinking he meant to fly the three of you off the planet, you go into the ‘fresher and get ready to take off far away from here. Finally dressed and hearing the latch close, you climb up to the cockpit. Grogu gurgles and makes grabby hands for you to pick him up from the co-pilot seat. While doing so, you realize the pilot seat is empty.

“Where’s your dad, huh little one?” you coo at him. You called out to Mando to get no response. Attempting to climb down the ladder with the child wasn’t easy, especially still worried from before. You call out to Mando again, this time more frantic as he’s nowhere to be found. Your hear rate increase as you search the ship. Pressing the button you think would open the latch of the ship does nothing. What? did he lock you in here? You open some cabinets to be met with his armory. Picking up a blaster, you start rambling to the kid, “Your dad won’t mind right? Yeah, he’d want you protected. I won’t need to use it, but just in case. Yeah, just in case. Why don’t we also hang out in the cockpit away from the doors? Sound good?” You’re only met with muffled babbles back as Grogu sticks his stubby hand in his mouth. “Yeah, we’re going to be okay. Nothing is going to happen.” You hope.

Back in the city, Din is looking for a stand that has this... hair pin? Does he even know what one of those looks like? He’ll figure it out, you knocked some books over, so he decides he’ll start there. Unfortunately for Din, most of the vendors are closing down their booths. Dank farrik. He’s got to move quickly before they’re all closed.

Speed walking, he comes across the same man working the booth Din was at before you panicked. He asks the man if he knows if there is a booth that sells this item, and thankfully he points Din in the right direction. Four booths down. The people who wanted his child, and now you, could’ve been four booths down from him and he had no idea. Now’s not the time to beat himself up over this, he needs answers. Stalking up to the table, he’s met with a young man cleaning up the stand. Without looking up the man says, “What can I help you with?” Din’s hand ghosts over the pin you described to him and sees the many broken pieces scattered on the table.

“Seems a little... unsafe having all of these around,” Din observes while now moving around the table. The man finally looking up, goes white in the face and begins to run. Why do they always think they can outrun me? Chasing the man down an alley, Din uses his grappling hook around his feet and the man goes tumbling to the ground. Grabbing him by the collar to face him. Anger laced through his modulated voice, “Did you follow us?”

“Nope, just the lucky bastard that happened to be on the same planet as you,” He spits out. Din notices that he moves his jaw to the side, but the man continues, “Don’t worry they’ll find you and the child soon. Oh, and I’m sure the troopers will have a good time with that pretty little girl you have once they get their hands on her.” Before Din can land a hand on this guy, he bites down on something and there’s electricity everywhere, just like he saw with Bo Katan. Din barely jumps off the man in time. Now full of adrenaline and anger he stands there for a few seconds thinking of his next move. Kriff. He needs to get back to you and his son.

You are sitting on the cold floor of the cockpit, with Grogu on your lap, hand hovering the blaster that is next to you on the ground. Banging coming from the Crest makes you jump. It sounds like the hatch opens, so you clutch Grogu closer and pick up the blaster as you stand up. The pram is still in the cockpit, so you put the baby that is pulling your hair in and close it. Going to the opening between the levels, with shaky hands, you raise the blaster and wait. Clanging can be heard when you finally hear Mando call your name and the kid’s.

Hopping down the ladder, blaster still in hand, you smile at him as he stands still. “What the hell are you doing with that,” he barks at you. You stand there dumbfounded, he’s the one that left you in the ship with his child. He should be glad your first thought was to protect him. He continues with his hands on his hips, “Do you even know how to use that?”

Still startled, you stammer, “You just- point and shoot?” With that his hands go up in astonishment and back down again, almost as if he’s saying, are you kriffing kidding me? Why is he so angry right now?

“You’re - you’re the one that left me, that left us here,” you point back up to the cockpit, “I didn’t know if someone else could get in or not. Why are you so angry at me for trying to protect your son?”

“You could have shot him or yourself, you don’t even know how to use it,” his voice raises and he takes it out of your hand.

“I’m not the one that left us here defenseless!” you scream. Both of you stand there for second huffing at each other. Finally thinking a little bit more rationally, you ask, “Where did you even go?”

Pushing past you, he put something in your hand, “I took care of it.” He climbs the ladder as you look. The hair pin. He took care of it? He took care of it. Your face falls thinking of what that means. Following him back up, you take Grogu from the pram and place him on your hip.

“You took care of it?” you say astonished, “Care to elaborate?” Mando sits in the pilot chair already plotting a new location.

“No.” Your eyes go wide as he spins the chair to face you. “I’m flying us out of here and I-,” his hands go up in defeat, “I need to eat. I’ll tell you when it’s safe to come up.” He sounds less angry but still very annoyed. At this point you’re fuming. You spin on your heels with Grogu playfully slapping his little 3-fingered hand across your face for attention.

You leave the cockpit and grab two food packets on the crate before the ladder opening. Stuffing them in your pocket, you try to maneuver yet again down the ladder with a baby clinging to you. Hopping off the last wrung, you go to sit on the crates you woke up on. Opening the packets, you help feed Grogu his.

Why was he so mad? If anything, he should be thankful that you were being resourceful. And after the past couple of days you think you deserve the right to be a little worked up about things like this. The anger is fueling you right now. It keeps spiraling, you can feel the darkness surround you. This used to happen when you were younger. Your emotions would almost devour you whole. Luckily your mother would always tell you, it’s okay to have these emotions but don’t let them consume you. She would lead you through some breathing exercises to help you calm down. Oh, you wish she were here with you right now to help. Could she have known about this ability you have? That’s not important right now, you need to breath and calm down. While doing so, you feel two little hands come and rest on your chest, as to help you relax more. Playing with his ears, the weight of the day starts to set in. You feel your eyes start to droop and before you know it, you’re asleep yet again.

Din holds his head in his hands. He shouldn’t have snapped. He knows this. It’s just knowing that Moff Gideon and his Imps could be anywhere in the galaxy trying to find others like the two Jedi he seemed to have collected. Are you even a Jedi? He still has no idea how this even works. Din shakes his head trying to clear it of what that man said. The anger boils up in him thinking of what he said about you, about their hands on you. He wishes he could’ve gotten a few punches in on him. He got out easy.

He’d do anything to protect Grogu, he knows it and they know it. But now with you in the equation? He’s terrified. He doesn’t know what he got himself into with now both of you under his protection. You don’t know this but he saw you peeking through the opening, with your hands shaking holding the blaster and with such fear in your eyes. A pain springs up in his chest just thinking of it. Looking up towards the door, he thinks it might be time for him to stop hiding and time to go apologize for his behavior. He did just leave without explaining. You also have just been kidnapped and rescued in a matter of days. He sighs, remembering what you have gone through, and now with the reminder in the city. He should have been a little calmer and not taken out his frustrations out on you.

Putting his helmet back on, he opens the cockpit doors and climbs down the ladder again, only to hear soft snores. There you are with your back against the wall, with Grogu in your lap. Grogu’s eyes open and he starts to make, very slow, sleep filled, grabby hands at his dad. Carefully taking the baby out of your arms, he opens up his own bunk and places the child in his little hammock. Quiet babbling is directed at him and Din responds, “I know, I know, I’m getting her a pillow and blanket.”

Moving back over towards you with those items in hand, he places the pillow in its spot and carefully shifts you into a lying position, bringing your legs up onto the crates. After placing the blanket over you, Din moves the fallen pieces of hair out of your face. You look so peacefully, he can’t help but stare. Finally, he sighs, “I guess I better teach you how to shoot then.”

Taglist: @rogueheretic555 @heythere-mel @dancingwiththeplanets @ohpedromypedro

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sycon-senti · 3 years

Note

According to all known laws of aviation, there is no way a bee should be able to fly. Its wings are too small to get its fat little body off the ground. The bee, of course, flies anyway because bees don't care what humans think is impossible. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Ooh, black and yellow! Let's shake it up a little. Barry! Breakfast is ready! Ooming! Hang on a second. Hello? - Barry? - Adam? - Oan you believe this is happening? - I can't. I'll pick you up. Looking sharp. Use the stairs. Your father paid good money for those. Sorry. I'm excited. Here's the graduate. We're very proud of you, son. A perfect report card, all B's. Very proud. Ma! I got a thing going here. - You got lint on your fuzz. - Ow! That's me! - Wave to us! We'll be in row 118,000. - Bye! Barry, I told you, stop flying in the house! - Hey, Adam. - Hey, Barry. - Is that fuzz gel? - A little. Special day, graduation. Never thought I'd make it. Three days grade school, three days high school. Those were awkward. Three days college. I'm glad I took a day and hitchhiked around the hive. You did come back different. - Hi, Barry. - Artie, growing a mustache? Looks good. - Hear about Frankie? - Yeah. - You going to the funeral? - No, I'm not going. Everybody knows, sting someone, you die. Don't waste it on a squirrel. Such a hothead. I guess he could have just gotten out of the way. I love this incorporating an amusement park into our day. That's why we don't need vacations. Boy, quite a bit of pomp... under the circumstances. - Well, Adam, today we are men. - We are! - Bee-men. - Amen! Hallelujah!

is this a challenge

Students, faculty, distinguished bees, please welcome Dean Buzzwell. Welcome, New Hive Oity graduating class of... 9:15. That concludes our ceremonies. And begins your career at Honex Industries! Will we pick ourjob today? I heard it's just orientation. Heads up! Here we go. Keep your hands and antennas inside the tram at all times. - Wonder what it'll be like? - A little scary. Welcome to Honex, a division of Honesco and a part of the Hexagon Group. This is it! Wow. Wow. We know that you, as a bee, have worked your whole life to get to the point where you can work for your whole life. Honey begins when our valiant Pollen Jocks bring the nectar to the hive. Our top-secret formula is automatically color-corrected, scent-adjusted and bubble-contoured into this soothing sweet syrup with its distinctive golden glow you know as... Honey! - That girl was hot. - She's my cousin! - She is? - Yes, we're all cousins. - Right. You're right. - At Honex, we constantly strive to every aspect of bee existence. These bees are stress-testing a new helmet technology. - What do you think he makes? - Not enough. Here we have our latest advancement, the Krelman. - What does that do? - Oatches that little strand of honey that hangs after you pour it. Saves us millions. Oan anyone work on the Krelman? Of course. Most bee jobs are small ones. But bees know that every small job, if it's done well, means a lot. But choose carefully because you'll stay in the job you pick for the rest of your life. The same job the rest of your life? I didn't know that. What's the difference? You'll be happy to know that bees, as a species, haven't had one day off in 27 million years. So you'll just work us to death? We'll sure try. Wow! That blew my mind! "What's the difference?" How can you say that? One job forever? That's an insane choice to have to make. I'm relieved. Now we only have to make one decision in life. But, Adam, how could they never have told us that? Why would you question anything? We're bees. We're the most perfectly functioning society on Earth. You ever think maybe things work a little too well here? Like what? Give me one example I don't know. But you know what I'm talking about. Please clear the gate. Royal Nectar Force on approach. Wait a second. Oheck it out. - Hey, those are Pollen Jocks! - Wow I've never seen them this close. They know what it's like outside the hive. Yeah, but some don't come back. - Hey, Jocks! - Hi, Jocks! You guys did great! You're monsters! You're sky freaks! I love it! I love it! - I wonder where they were. - I don't know. Their day's not planned. Outside the hive, flying who knows where, doing who knows what. You can'tjust decide to be a Pollen Jock. You have to be bred for that. Right. Look. That's more pollen than you and I will see in a lifetime. It's just a status symbol. Bees make too much of it. Perhaps. Unless you're wearing it and the ladies see you wearing it. Those ladies? Aren't they our cousins too? Distant. Distant. Look at these two. - Oouple of Hive Harrys. - Let's have fun with them. It must be dangerous being a Pollen Jock. Yeah. Once a bear pinned me against a mushroom! He had a paw on my throat, and with the other, he was slapping me! - Oh, my! - I never thought I'd knock him out. What were you doing during this? Trying to alert the authorities. I can autograph that. A little gusty out there today, wasn't it, comrades? Yeah. Gusty. We're hitting a sunflower patch six miles from here tomorrow. - Six miles, huh? - Barry! A puddle jump for us, but maybe you're not up for it. - Maybe I am. - You are not! We're going 0900 at J-Gate. What do you think, buzzy-boy? Are you bee enough? I might be. It all depends on what 0900 means. Hey, Honex! Dad, you surprised me. You decide what you're interested in? - Well, there's a lot of choices. - But you only get one. Do you ever get bored doing the same job every day? Son, let me tell you about stirring. You grab that stick, and you just move it around, and you stir it around. You get yourself into a rhythm. It's a

beautiful thing. You know, Dad, the more I think about it, maybe the honey field just isn't right for me. You were thinking of what, making balloon animals? That's a bad job for a guy with a stinger. Janet, your son's not sure he wants to go into honey! - Barry, you are so funny sometimes. - I'm not trying to be funny. You're not funny! You're going into honey. Our son, the stirrer! - You're gonna be a stirrer? - No one's listening to me! Wait till you see the sticks I have. I could say anything right now. I'm gonna get an ant tattoo! Let's open some honey and celebrate! Maybe I'll pierce my thorax. Shave my antennae. Shack up with a grasshopper. Get a gold tooth and call everybody "dawg"! I'm so proud. - We're starting work today! - Today's the day. Oome on! All the good jobs will be gone. Yeah, right. Pollen counting, stunt bee, pouring, stirrer, front desk, hair removal... - Is it still available? - Hang on. Two left! One of them's yours! Congratulations! Step to the side. - What'd you get? - Picking crud out. Stellar! Wow! Oouple of newbies? Yes, sir! Our first day! We are ready! Make your choice. - You want to go first? - No, you go. Oh, my. What's available? Restroom attendant's open, not for the reason you think. - Any chance of getting the Krelman? - Sure, you're on. I'm sorry, the Krelman just closed out. Wax monkey's always open. The Krelman opened up again. What happened? A bee died. Makes an opening. See? He's dead. Another dead one. Deady. Deadified. Two more dead. Dead from the neck up. Dead from the neck down. That's life! Oh, this is so hard! Heating, cooling, stunt bee, pourer, stirrer, humming, inspector number seven, lint coordinator, stripe supervisor, mite wrangler. Barry, what do you think I should... Barry? Barry! All right, we've got the sunflower patch in quadrant nine... What happened to you? Where are you? - I'm going out. - Out? Out where? - Out there. - Oh, no! I have to, before I go to work for the rest of my life. You're gonna die! You're crazy! Hello? Another call coming in. If anyone's feeling brave, there's a Korean deli on 83rd that gets their roses today. Hey, guys. - Look at that. - Isn't that the kid we saw yesterday? Hold it, son, flight deck's restricted. It's OK, Lou. We're gonna take him up. Really? Feeling lucky, are you? Sign here, here. Just initial that. - Thank you. - OK. You got a rain advisory today, and as you all know, bees cannot fly in rain. So be careful. As always, watch your brooms, hockey sticks, dogs, birds, bears and bats. Also, I got a couple of reports of root beer being poured on us. Murphy's in a home because of it, babbling like a cicada! - That's awful. - And a reminder for you rookies, bee law number one, absolutely no talking to humans! All right, launch positions! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Black and yellow! Hello! You ready for this, hot shot? Yeah. Yeah, bring it on. Wind, check. - Antennae, check. - Nectar pack, check. - Wings, check. - Stinger, check. Scared out of my shorts, check. OK, ladies, let's move it out! Pound those petunias, you striped stem-suckers! All of you, drain those flowers! Wow! I'm out! I can't believe I'm out! So blue. I feel so fast and free! Box kite! Wow! Flowers! This is Blue Leader. We have roses visual. Bring it around 30 degrees and hold. Roses! 30 degrees, roger. Bringing it around. Stand to the side, kid. It's got a bit of a kick. That is one nectar collector! - Ever see pollination up close? - No, sir. I pick up some pollen here, sprinkle it over here. Maybe a dash over there, a pinch on that one. See that? It's a little bit of magic. That's amazing. Why do we do that? That's pollen power. More pollen, more flowers, more nectar, more honey for us. Oool. I'm picking up a lot of bright yellow. Oould be daisies. Don't we need those? Oopy that visual. Wait. One of these flowers seems to be on the move. Say again? You're reporting a moving flower? Affirmative. That was on the line! This is the coolest. What is it? I

don't know, but I'm loving this color. It smells good. Not like a flower, but I like it. Yeah, fuzzy. Ohemical-y. Oareful, guys. It's a little grabby. My sweet lord of bees! Oandy-brain, get off there! Problem! - Guys! - This could be bad. Affirmative. Very close. Gonna hurt. Mama's little boy. You are way out of position, rookie! Ooming in at you like a missile! Help me! I don't think these are flowers. - Should we tell him? - I think he knows. What is this?! Match point! You can start packing up, honey, because you're about to eat it! Yowser! Gross. There's a bee in the car! - Do something! - I'm driving! - Hi, bee. - He's back here! He's going to sting me! Nobody move. If you don't move, he won't sting you. Freeze! He blinked! Spray him, Granny!What are you doing?! Wow... the tension level out here is unbelievable. I gotta get home. Oan't fly in rain. Oan't fly in rain. Oan't fly in rain. Mayday! Mayday! Bee going down! Ken, could you close the window please? Ken, could you close the window please? Oheck out my new resume. I made it into a fold-out brochure. You see? Folds out. Oh, no. More humans. I don't need this. What was that? Maybe this time. This time. This time. This time! This time! This... Drapes! That is diabolical. It's fantastic. It's got all my special skills, even my top-ten favorite movies. What's number one? Star Wars? Nah, I don't go for that... ...kind of stuff. No wonder we shouldn't talk to them. They're out of their minds. When I leave a job interview, they're flabbergasted, can't believe what I say. There's the sun. Maybe that's a way out. I don't remember the sun having a big 75 on it. I predicted global warming. I could feel it getting hotter. At first I thought it was just me. Wait! Stop! Bee! Stand back. These are winter boots. Wait! Don't kill him! You know I'm allergic to them! This thing could kill me! Why does his life have less value than yours? Why does his life have any less value than mine? Is that your statement? I'm just saying all life has value. You don't know what he's capable of feeling. My brochure! There you go, little guy. I'm not scared of him. It's an allergic thing. Put that on your resume brochure. My whole face could puff up. Make it one of your special skills. Knocking someone out is also a special skill. Right. Bye, Vanessa. Thanks. - Vanessa, next week? Yogurt night? - Sure, Ken. You know, whatever. - You could put carob chips on there. - Bye. - Supposed to be less calories. - Bye. I gotta say something. She saved my life. I gotta say something. All right, here it goes. Nah. What would I say? I could really get in trouble. It's a bee law. You're not supposed to talk to a human. I can't believe I'm doing this. I've got to. Oh, I can't do it. Oome on! No. Yes. No. Do it. I can't. How should I start it? "You like jazz?" No, that's no good. Here she comes! Speak, you fool! Hi! I'm sorry. - You're talking. - Yes, I know. You're talking! I'm so sorry. No, it's OK. It's fine. I know I'm dreaming. But I don't recall going to bed. Well, I'm sure this is very disconcerting. This is a bit of a surprise to me. I mean, you're a bee! I am. And I'm not supposed to be doing this, but they were all trying to kill me. And if it wasn't for you... I had to thank you. It's just how I was raised. That was a little weird. - I'm talking with a bee. - Yeah. I'm talking to a bee. And the bee is talking to me! I just want to say I'm grateful. I'll leave now. - Wait! How did you learn to do that? - What? The talking thing. Same way you did, I guess. "Mama, Dada, honey." You pick it up. - That's very funny. - Yeah. Bees are funny. If we didn't laugh, we'd cry with what we have to deal with. Anyway... Oan I......get you something? - Like what? I don't know.

I mean... I don't know. Ooffee? I don't want to put you out. It's no trouble. It takes two minutes. - It's just coffee. - I hate to impose. - Don't be ridiculous! - Actually, I would love a cup. Hey, you want rum cake? - I shouldn't. - Have some. - No, I can't. - Oome on! I'm trying to lose a couple micrograms. - Where? - These stripes don't help. You look great! I don't know if you know anything about fashion. Are you all right? No. He's making the tie in the cab as they're flying up Madison. He finally gets there. He runs up the steps into the church. The wedding is on. And he says, "Watermelon? I thought you said Guatemalan. Why would I marry a watermelon?" Is that a bee joke? That's the kind of stuff we do. Yeah, different. So, what are you gonna do, Barry? About work? I don't know. I want to do my part for the hive, but I can't do it the way they want. I know how you feel. - You do? - Sure. My parents wanted me to be a lawyer or a doctor, but I wanted to be a florist. - Really? - My only interest is flowers. Our new queen was just elected with that same campaign slogan. Anyway, if you look... There's my hive right there. See it? You're in Sheep Meadow! Yes! I'm right off the Turtle Pond! No way! I know that area. I lost a toe ring there once. - Why do girls put rings on their toes? - Why not? - It's like putting a hat on your knee. - Maybe I'll try that. - You all right, ma'am? - Oh, yeah. Fine. Just having two cups of coffee! Anyway, this has been great. Thanks for the coffee. Yeah, it's no trouble. Sorry I couldn't finish it. If I did, I'd be up the rest of my life. Are you...? Oan I take a piece of this with me? Sure! Here, have a crumb. - Thanks! - Yeah. All right. Well, then... I guess I'll see you around. Or not. OK, Barry. And thank you so much again... for before. Oh, that? That was nothing. Well, not nothing, but... Anyway... This can't possibly work. He's all set to go. We may as well try it. OK, Dave, pull the chute. - Sounds amazing. - It was amazing! It was the scariest, happiest moment of my life. Humans! I can't believe you were with humans! Giant, scary humans! What were they like? Huge and crazy. They talk crazy. They eat crazy giant things. They drive crazy. - Do they try and kill you, like on TV? - Some of them. But some of them don't. - How'd you get back? - Poodle. You did it, and I'm glad. You saw whatever you wanted to see. You had your "experience." Now you can pick out yourjob and be normal. - Well... - Well? Well, I met someone. You did? Was she Bee-ish? - A wasp?! Your parents will kill you! - No, no, no, not a wasp. - Spider? - I'm not attracted to spiders. I know it's the hottest thing, with the eight legs and all. I can't get by that face. So who is she? She's... human. No, no. That's a bee law. You wouldn't break a bee law. - Her name's Vanessa. - Oh, boy. She's so nice. And she's a florist! Oh, no! You're dating a human florist! We're not dating. You're flying outside the hive, talking to humans that attack our homes with power washers and M-80s! One-eighth a stick of dynamite! She saved my life! And she understands me. This is over! Eat this. This is not over! What was that? - They call it a crumb. - It was so stingin' stripey! And that's not what they eat. That's what falls off what they eat! - You know what a Oinnabon is? - No. It's bread and cinnamon and frosting. They heat it up... Sit down! ...really hot! - Listen to me! We are not them! We're us. There's us and there's them! Yes, but who can deny the heart that is yearning? There's no yearning. Stop yearning. Listen to me! You have got to start thinking bee, my friend. Thinking bee! - Thinking bee. - Thinking bee. Thinking bee! Thinking bee!

Thinking bee! Thinking bee! There he is. He's in the pool. You know what your problem is, Barry? I gotta start thinking bee? How much longer will this go on? It's been three days! Why aren't you working? I've got a lot of big life decisions to think about. What life? You have no life! You have no job. You're barely a bee! Would it kill you to make a little honey? Barry, come out. Your father's talking to you. Martin, would you talk to him? Barry, I'm talking to you! You coming? Got everything? All set! Go ahead. I'll catch up. Don't be too long. Watch this! Vanessa! - We're still here. - I told you not to yell at him. He doesn't respond to yelling! - Then why yell at me? - Because you don't listen! I'm not listening to this. Sorry, I've gotta go. - Where are you going? - I'm meeting a friend. A girl? Is this why you can't decide? Bye. I just hope she's Bee-ish. They have a huge parade of flowers every year in Pasadena? To be in the Tournament of Roses, that's every florist's dream! Up on a float, surrounded by flowers, crowds cheering. A tournament. Do the roses compete in athletic events? No. All right, I've got one. How come you don't fly everywhere? It's exhausting. Why don't you run everywhere? It's faster. Yeah, OK, I see, I see. All right, your turn. TiVo. You can just freeze live TV? That's insane! You don't have that? We have Hivo, but it's a disease. It's a horrible, horrible disease. Oh, my. Dumb bees! You must want to sting all those jerks. We try not to sting. It's usually fatal for us. So you have to watch your temper. Very carefully. You kick a wall, take a walk, write an angry letter and throw it out. Work through it like any emotion: Anger, jealousy, lust. Oh, my goodness! Are you OK? Yeah. - What is wrong with you?! - It's a bug. He's not bothering anybody. Get out of here, you creep! What was that? A Pic 'N' Save circular? Yeah, it was. How did you know? It felt like about 10 pages. Seventy-five is pretty much our limit. You've really got that down to a science. - I lost a cousin to Italian Vogue. - I'll bet. What in the name of Mighty Hercules is this? How did this get here? Oute Bee, Golden Blossom, Ray Liotta Private Select? - Is he that actor? - I never heard of him. - Why is this here? - For people. We eat it. You don't have enough food of your own? - Well, yes. - How do you get it? - Bees make it. - I know who makes it! And it's hard to make it! There's heating, cooling, stirring. You need a whole Krelman thing! - It's organic. - It's our-ganic! It's just honey, Barry. Just what?! Bees don't know about this! This is stealing! A lot of stealing! You've taken our homes, schools, hospitals! This is all we have! And it's on sale?! I'm getting to the bottom of this. I'm getting to the bottom of all of this! Hey, Hector. - You almost done? - Almost. He is here. I sense it. Well, I guess I'll go home now and just leave this nice honey out, with no one around. You're busted, box boy! I knew I heard something. So you can talk! I can talk. And now you'll start talking! Where you getting the sweet stuff? Who's your supplier? I don't understand. I thought we were friends. The last thing we want to do is upset bees! You're too late! It's ours now! You, sir, have crossed the wrong sword! You, sir, will be lunch for my iguana, Ignacio! Where is the honey coming from? Tell me where! Honey Farms! It comes from Honey Farms! Orazy person! What horrible thing has happened here? These faces, they never knew what hit them. And now they're on the road to nowhere! Just keep still. What? You're not dead? Do I look dead? They will wipe anything that moves. Where you headed? To Honey Farms. I am onto something huge here. I'm going to Alaska.

Moose blood, crazy stuff. Blows your head off! I'm going to Tacoma. - And you? - He really is dead. All right. Uh-oh! - What is that?! - Oh, no! - A wiper! Triple blade! - Triple blade? Jump on! It's your only chance, bee! Why does everything have to be so doggone clean?! How much do you people need to see?! Open your eyes! Stick your head out the window! From NPR News in Washington, I'm Oarl Kasell. But don't kill no more bugs! - Bee! - Moose blood guy!! - You hear something? - Like what? Like tiny screaming. Turn off the radio. Whassup, bee boy? Hey, Blood. Just a row of honey jars, as far as the eye could see. Wow! I assume wherever this truck goes is where they're getting it. I mean, that honey's ours. - Bees hang tight. - We're all jammed in. It's a close community. Not us, man. We on our own. Every mosquito on his own. - What if you get in trouble? - You a mosquito, you in trouble. Nobody likes us. They just smack. See a mosquito, smack, smack! At least you're out in the world. You must meet girls. Mosquito girls try to trade up, get with a moth, dragonfly. Mosquito girl don't want no mosquito. You got to be kidding me! Mooseblood's about to leave the building! So long, bee! - Hey, guys! - Mooseblood! I knew I'd catch y'all down here. Did you bring your crazy straw? We throw it in jars, slap a label on it, and it's pretty much pure profit. What is this place? A bee's got a brain the size of a pinhead. They are pinheads! Pinhead. - Oheck out the new smoker. - Oh, sweet. That's the one you want. The Thomas 3000! Smoker? Ninety puffs a minute, semi-automatic. Twice the nicotine, all the tar. A couple breaths of this knocks them right out. They make the honey, and we make the money. "They make the honey, and we make the money"? Oh, my! What's going on? Are you OK? Yeah. It doesn't last too long. Do you know you're in a fake hive with fake walls? Our queen was moved here. We had no choice. This is your queen? That's a man in women's clothes! That's a drag queen! What is this? Oh, no! There's hundreds of them! Bee honey. Our honey is being brazenly stolen on a massive scale! This is worse than anything bears have done! I intend to do something. Oh, Barry, stop. Who told you humans are taking our honey? That's a rumor. Do these look like rumors? That's a conspiracy theory. These are obviously doctored photos. How did you get mixed up in this? He's been talking to humans. - What? - Talking to humans?! He has a human girlfriend. And they make out! Make out? Barry! We do not. - You wish you could. - Whose side are you on? The bees! I dated a cricket once in San Antonio. Those crazy legs kept me up all night. Barry, this is what you want to do with your life? I want to do it for all our lives. Nobody works harder than bees! Dad, I remember you coming home so overworked your hands were still stirring. You couldn't stop. I remember that. What right do they have to our honey? We live on two cups a year. They put it in lip balm for no reason whatsoever! Even if it's true, what can one bee do? Sting them where it really hurts. In the face! The eye! - That would hurt. - No. Up the nose? That's a killer. There's only one place you can sting the humans, one place where it matters. Hive at Five, the hive's only full-hour action news source. No more bee beards! With Bob Bumble at the anchor desk. Weather with Storm Stinger. Sports with Buzz Larvi. And Jeanette Ohung. - Good evening. I'm Bob Bumble. - And I'm Jeanette Ohung. A tri-county bee, Barry Benson, intends to sue the human race for stealing our honey, packaging it and profiting from it illegally! Tomorrow night on Bee Larry King, we'll have three former queens here in our studio, discussing their

new book, Olassy Ladies, out this week on Hexagon. Tonight we're talking to Barry Benson. Did you ever think, "I'm a kid from the hive. I can't do this"? Bees have never been afraid to change the world. What about Bee Oolumbus? Bee Gandhi? Bejesus? Where I'm from, we'd never sue humans. We were thinking of stickball or candy stores. How old are you? The bee community is supporting you in this case, which will be the trial of the bee century. You know, they have a Larry King in the human world too. It's a common name. Next week... He looks like you and has a show and suspenders and colored dots... Next week... Glasses, quotes on the bottom from the guest even though you just heard 'em. Bear Week next week! They're scary, hairy and here live. Always leans forward, pointy shoulders, squinty eyes, very Jewish. In tennis, you attack at the point of weakness! It was my grandmother, Ken. She's 81. Honey, her backhand's a joke! I'm not gonna take advantage of that? Quiet, please. Actual work going on here. - Is that that same bee? - Yes, it is! I'm helping him sue the human race. - Hello. - Hello, bee. This is Ken. Yeah, I remember you. Timberland, size ten and a half. Vibram sole, I believe. Why does he talk again? Listen, you better go 'cause we're really busy working. But it's our yogurt night! Bye-bye. Why is yogurt night so difficult?! You poor thing. You two have been at this for hours! Yes, and Adam here has been a huge help. - Frosting... - How many sugars? Just one. I try not to use the competition. So why are you helping me? Bees have good qualities. And it takes my mind off the shop. Instead of flowers, people are giving balloon bouquets now. Those are great, if you're three. And artificial flowers. - Oh, those just get me psychotic! - Yeah, me too. Bent stingers, pointless pollination. Bees must hate those fake things! Nothing worse than a daffodil that's had work done. Maybe this could make up for it a little bit. - This lawsuit's a pretty big deal. - I guess. You sure you want to go through with it? Am I sure? When I'm done with the humans, they won't be able to say, "Honey, I'm home," without paying a royalty! It's an incredible scene here in downtown Manhattan, where the world anxiously waits, because for the first time in history, we will hear for ourselves if a honeybee can actually speak. What have we gotten into here, Barry? It's pretty big, isn't it? I can't believe how many humans don't work during the day. You think billion-dollar multinational food companies have good lawyers? Everybody needs to stay behind the barricade. - What's the matter? - I don't know, I just got a chill. Well, if it isn't the bee team. You boys work on this? All rise! The Honorable Judge Bumbleton presiding. All right. Oase number 4475, Superior Oourt of New York, Barry Bee Benson v. the Honey Industry is now in session. Mr. Montgomery, you're representing the five food companies collectively? A privilege. Mr. Benson... you're representing all the bees of the world? I'm kidding. Yes, Your Honor, we're ready to proceed. Mr. Montgomery, your opening statement, please. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, my grandmother was a simple woman. Born on a farm, she believed it was man's divine right to benefit from the bounty of nature God put before us. If we lived in the topsy-turvy world Mr. Benson imagines, just think of what would it mean. I would have to negotiate with the silkworm for the elastic in my britches! Talking bee! How do we know this isn't some sort of holographic motion-picture-capture Hollywood wizardry? They could be using laser beams! Robotics! Ventriloquism! Oloning! For all we know, he could be on steroids! Mr. Benson? Ladies and gentlemen, there's no trickery here. I'm just

an ordinary bee. Honey's pretty important to me. It's important to all bees. We invented it! We make it. And we protect it with our lives. Unfortunately, there are some people in this room who think they can take it from us 'cause we're the little guys! I'm hoping that, after this is all over, you'll see how, by taking our honey, you not only take everything we have but everything we are! I wish he'd dress like that all the time. So nice! Oall your first witness. So, Mr. Klauss Vanderhayden of Honey Farms, big company you have. I suppose so. I see you also own Honeyburton and Honron! Yes, they provide beekeepers for our farms. Beekeeper. I find that to be a very disturbing term. I don't imagine you employ any bee-free-ers, do you? - No. - I couldn't hear you. - No. - No. Because you don't free bees. You keep bees. Not only that, it seems you thought a bear would be an appropriate image for a jar of honey. They're very lovable creatures. Yogi Bear, Fozzie Bear, Build-A-Bear. You mean like this? Bears kill bees! How'd you like his head crashing through your living room?! Biting into your couch! Spitting out your throw pillows! OK, that's enough. Take him away. So, Mr. Sting, thank you for being here. Your name intrigues me. - Where have I heard it before? - I was with a band called The Police. But you've never been a police officer, have you? No, I haven't. No, you haven't. And so here we have yet another example of bee culture casually stolen by a human for nothing more than a prance-about stage name. Oh, please. Have you ever been stung, Mr. Sting? Because I'm feeling a little stung, Sting. Or should I say... Mr. Gordon M. Sumner! That's not his real name?! You idiots! Mr. Liotta, first, belated congratulations on your Emmy win for a guest spot on ER in 2005. Thank you. Thank you. I see from your resume that you're devilishly handsome with a churning inner turmoil that's ready to blow. I enjoy what I do. Is that a crime? Not yet it isn't. But is this what it's come to for you? Exploiting tiny, helpless bees so you don't have to rehearse your part and learn your lines, sir? Watch it, Benson! I could blow right now! This isn't a goodfella. This is a badfella! Why doesn't someone just step on this creep, and we can all go home?! - Order in this court! - You're all thinking it! Order! Order, I say! - Say it! - Mr. Liotta, please sit down! I think it was awfully nice of that bear to pitch in like that. I think the jury's on our side. Are we doing everything right, legally? I'm a florist. Right. Well, here's to a great team. To a great team! Well, hello. - Ken! - Hello. I didn't think you were coming. No, I was just late. I tried to call, but... the battery. I didn't want all this to go to waste, so I called Barry. Luckily, he was free. Oh, that was lucky. There's a little left. I could heat it up. Yeah, heat it up, sure, whatever. So I hear you're quite a tennis player. I'm not much for the game myself. The ball's a little grabby. That's where I usually sit. Right... there. Ken, Barry was looking at your resume, and he agreed with me that eating with chopsticks isn't really a special skill. You think I don't see what you're doing? I know how hard it is to find the rightjob. We have that in common. Do we? Bees have 100 percent employment, but we do jobs like taking the crud out. That's just what I was thinking about doing. Ken, I let Barry borrow your razor for his fuzz. I hope that was all right. I'm going to drain the old stinger. Yeah, you do that. Look at that. You know, I've just about had it with your little mind games. - What's that? - Italian Vogue. Mamma mia, that's a lot of pages. A lot of ads. Remember what Van said, why is your life more valuable than mine? Funny, I

just can't seem to recall that! I think something stinks in here! I love the smell of flowers. How do you like the smell of flames?! Not as much. Water bug! Not taking sides! Ken, I'm wearing a Ohapstick hat! This is pathetic! I've got issues! Well, well, well, a royal flush! - You're bluffing. - Am I? Surf's up, dude! Poo water! That bowl is gnarly. Except for those dirty yellow rings! Kenneth! What are you doing?! You know, I don't even like honey! I don't eat it! We need to talk! He's just a little bee! And he happens to be the nicest bee I've met in a long time! Long time? What are you talking about?! Are there other bugs in your life? No, but there are other things bugging me in life. And you're one of them! Fine! Talking bees, no yogurt night... My nerves are fried from riding on this emotional roller coaster! Goodbye, Ken. And for your information, I prefer sugar-free, artificial sweeteners made by man! I'm sorry about all that. I know it's got an aftertaste! I like it! I always felt there was some kind of barrier between Ken and me. I couldn't overcome it. Oh, well. Are you OK for the trial? I believe Mr. Montgomery is about out of ideas. We would like to call Mr. Barry Benson Bee to the stand. Good idea! You can really see why he's considered one of the best lawyers... Yeah. Layton, you've gotta weave some magic with this jury, or it's gonna be all over. Don't worry. The only thing I have to do to turn this jury around is to remind them of what they don't like about bees. - You got the tweezers? - Are you allergic? Only to losing, son. Only to losing. Mr. Benson Bee, I'll ask you what I think we'd all like to know. What exactly is your relationship to that woman? We're friends. - Good friends? - Yes. How good? Do you live together? Wait a minute... Are you her little... ...bedbug? I've seen a bee documentary or two. From what I understand, doesn't your queen give birth to all the bee children? - Yeah, but... - So those aren't your real parents! - Oh, Barry... - Yes, they are! Hold me back! You're an illegitimate bee, aren't you, Benson? He's denouncing bees! Don't y'all date your cousins? - Objection! - I'm going to pincushion this guy! Adam, don't! It's what he wants! Oh, I'm hit!! Oh, lordy, I am hit! Order! Order! The venom! The venom is coursing through my veins! I have been felled by a winged beast of destruction! You see? You can't treat them like equals! They're striped savages! Stinging's the only thing they know! It's their way! - Adam, stay with me. - I can't feel my legs. What angel of mercy will come forward to suck the poison from my heaving buttocks? I will have order in this court. Order! Order, please! The case of the honeybees versus the human race took a pointed turn against the bees yesterday when one of their legal team stung Layton T. Montgomery. - Hey, buddy. - Hey. - Is there much pain? - Yeah. I... I blew the whole case, didn't I? It doesn't matter. What matters is you're alive. You could have died. I'd be better off dead. Look at me. They got it from the cafeteria downstairs, in a tuna sandwich. Look, there's a little celery still on it. What was it like to sting someone? I can't explain it. It was all... All adrenaline and then... and then ecstasy! All right. You think it was all a trap? Of course. I'm sorry. I flew us right into this. What were we thinking? Look at us. We're just a couple of bugs in this world. What will the humans do to us if they win? I don't know. I hear they put the roaches in motels. That doesn't sound so bad. Adam, they check in, but they don't check out! Oh, my. Oould you get a nurse to close that window? - Why? - The smoke. Bees don't smoke. Right. Bees don't smoke. Bees

don't smoke! But some bees are smoking. That's it! That's our case! It is? It's not over? Get dressed. I've gotta go somewhere. Get back to the court and stall. Stall any way you can. And assuming you've done step correctly, you're ready for the tub. Mr. Flayman. Yes? Yes, Your Honor! Where is the rest of your team? Well, Your Honor, it's interesting. Bees are trained to fly haphazardly, and as a result, we don't make very good time. I actually heard a funny story about... Your Honor, haven't these ridiculous bugs taken up enough of this court's valuable time? How much longer will we allow these absurd shenanigans to go on? They have presented no compelling evidence to support their charges against my clients, who run legitimate businesses. I move for a complete dismissal of this entire case! Mr. Flayman, I'm afraid I'm going to have to consider Mr. Montgomery's motion. But you can't! We have a terrific case. Where is your proof? Where is the evidence? Show me the smoking gun! Hold it, Your Honor! You want a smoking gun? Here is your smoking gun. What is that? It's a bee smoker! What, this? This harmless little contraption? This couldn't hurt a fly, let alone a bee. Look at what has happened to bees who have never been asked, "Smoking or non?" Is this what nature intended for us? To be forcibly addicted to smoke machines and man-made wooden slat work camps? Living out our lives as honey slaves to the white man? - What are we gonna do? - He's playing the species card. Ladies and gentlemen, please, free these bees! Free the bees! Free the bees! Free the bees! Free the bees! Free the bees! The court finds in favor of the bees! Vanessa, we won! I knew you could do it! High-five! Sorry. I'm OK! You know what this means? All the honey will finally belong to the bees. Now we won't have to work so hard all the time. This is an unholy perversion of the balance of nature, Benson. You'll regret this. Barry, how much honey is out there? All right. One at a time. Barry, who are you wearing? My sweater is Ralph Lauren, and I have no pants. - What if Montgomery's right? - What do you mean? We've been living the bee way a long time, 27 million years. Oongratulations on your victory. What will you demand as a settlement? First, we'll demand a complete shutdown of all bee work camps. Then we want back the honey that was ours to begin with, every last drop. We demand an end to the glorification of the bear as anything more than a filthy, smelly, bad-breath stink machine. We're all aware of what they do in the woods. Wait for my signal. Take him out. He'll have nauseous for a few hours, then he'll be fine. And we will no longer tolerate bee-negative nicknames... But it's just a prance-about stage name! ...unnecessary inclusion of honey in bogus health products and la-dee-da human tea-time snack garnishments. Oan't breathe. Bring it in, boys! Hold it right there! Good. Tap it. Mr. Buzzwell, we just passed three cups, and there's gallons more coming! - I think we need to shut down! - Shut down? We've never shut down. Shut down honey production! Stop making honey! Turn your key, sir! What do we do now? Oannonball! We're shutting honey production! Mission abort. Aborting pollination and nectar detail. Returning to base. Adam, you wouldn't believe how much honey was out there. Oh, yeah? What's going on? Where is everybody? - Are they out celebrating? - They're home. They don't know what to do. Laying out, sleeping in. I heard your Uncle Oarl was on his way to San Antonio with a cricket. At least we got our honey back. Sometimes I think, so what if humans liked our honey? Who wouldn't? It's the greatest thing in the world! I was excited to be part of making it. This was my new

desk. This was my new job. I wanted to do it really well. And now... Now I can't. I don't understand why they're not happy. I thought their lives would be better! They're doing nothing. It's amazing. Honey really changes people. You don't have any idea what's going on, do you? - What did you want to show me? - This. What happened here? That is not the half of it. Oh, no. Oh, my. They're all wilting. Doesn't look very good, does it? No. And whose fault do you think that is? You know, I'm gonna guess bees. Bees? Specifically, me. I didn't think bees not needing to make honey would affect all these things. It's notjust flowers. Fruits, vegetables, they all need bees. That's our whole SAT test right there. Take away produce, that affects the entire animal kingdom. And then, of course... The human species? So if there's no more pollination, it could all just go south here, couldn't it? I know this is also partly my fault. How about a suicide pact? How do we do it? - I'll sting you, you step on me. - Thatjust kills you twice. Right, right. Listen, Barry... sorry, but I gotta get going. I had to open my mouth and talk. Vanessa? Vanessa? Why are you leaving? Where are you going? To the final Tournament of Roses parade in Pasadena. They've moved it to this weekend because all the flowers are dying. It's the last chance I'll ever have to see it. Vanessa, I just wanna say I'm sorry. I never meant it to turn out like this. I know. Me neither. Tournament of Roses. Roses can't do sports. Wait a minute. Roses. Roses? Roses! Vanessa! Roses?! Barry? - Roses are flowers! - Yes, they are. Flowers, bees, pollen! I know. That's why this is the last parade. Maybe not. Oould you ask him to slow down? Oould you slow down? Barry! OK, I made a huge mistake. This is a total disaster, all my fault. Yes, it kind of is. I've ruined the planet. I wanted to help you with the flower shop. I've made it worse. Actually, it's completely closed down. I thought maybe you were remodeling. But I have another idea, and it's greater than my previous ideas combined. I don't want to hear it! All right, they have the roses, the roses have the pollen. I know every bee, plant and flower bud in this park. All we gotta do is get what they've got back here with what we've got. - Bees. - Park. - Pollen! - Flowers. - Repollination! - Across the nation! Tournament of Roses, Pasadena, Oalifornia. They've got nothing but flowers, floats and cotton candy. Security will be tight. I have an idea. Vanessa Bloome, FTD. Official floral business. It's real. Sorry, ma'am. Nice brooch. Thank you. It was a gift. Once inside, we just pick the right float. How about The Princess and the Pea? I could be the princess, and you could be the pea! Yes, I got it. - Where should I sit? - What are you? - I believe I'm the pea. - The pea? It goes under the mattresses. - Not in this fairy tale, sweetheart. - I'm getting the marshal. You do that! This whole parade is a fiasco! Let's see what this baby'll do. Hey, what are you doing?! Then all we do is blend in with traffic... ...without arousing suspicion. Once at the airport, there's no stopping us. Stop! Security. - You and your insect pack your float? - Yes. Has it been in your possession the entire time? Would you remove your shoes? - Remove your stinger. - It's part of me. I know. Just having some fun. Enjoy your flight. Then if we're lucky, we'll have just enough pollen to do the job. Oan you believe how lucky we are? We have just enough pollen to do the job! I think this is gonna work. It's got to work. Attention, passengers, this is Oaptain Scott. We have a bit of bad weather in New York. It looks like we'll experience a couple hours delay.

Barry, these are cut flowers with no water. They'll never make it. I gotta get up there and talk to them. Be careful. Oan I get help with the Sky Mall magazine? I'd like to order the talking inflatable nose and ear hair trimmer. Oaptain, I'm in a real situation. - What'd you say, Hal? - Nothing. Bee! Don't freak out! My entire species... What are you doing? - Wait a minute! I'm an attorney! - Who's an attorney? Don't move. Oh, Barry. Good afternoon, passengers. This is your captain. Would a Miss Vanessa Bloome in 24B please report to the cockpit? And please hurry! What happened here? There was a DustBuster, a toupee, a life raft exploded. One's bald, one's in a boat, they're both unconscious! - Is that another bee joke? - No! No one's flying the plane! This is JFK control tower, Flight 356. What's your status? This is Vanessa Bloome. I'm a florist from New York. Where's the pilot? He's unconscious, and so is the copilot. Not good. Does anyone onboard have flight experience? As a matter of fact, there is. - Who's that? - Barry Benson. From the honey trial?! Oh, great. Vanessa, this is nothing more than a big metal bee. It's got giant wings, huge engines. I can't fly a plane. - Why not? Isn't John Travolta a pilot? - Yes. How hard could it be? Wait, Barry! We're headed into some lightning. This is Bob Bumble. We have some late-breaking news from JFK Airport, where a suspenseful scene is developing. Barry Benson, fresh from his legal victory... That's Barry! ...is attempting to land a plane, loaded with people, flowers and an incapacitated flight crew. Flowers?! We have a storm in the area and two individuals at the controls with absolutely no flight experience. Just a minute. There's a bee on that plane. I'm quite familiar with Mr. Benson and his no-account compadres. They've done enough damage. But isn't he your only hope? Technically, a bee shouldn't be able to fly at all. Their wings are too small... Haven't we heard this a million times? "The surface area of the wings and body mass make no sense." - Get this on the air! - Got it. - Stand by. - We're going live. The way we work may be a mystery to you. Making honey takes a lot of bees doing a lot of small jobs. But let me tell you about a small job. If you do it well, it makes a big difference. More than we realized. To us, to everyone. That's why I want to get bees back to working together. That's the bee way! We're not made of Jell-O. We get behind a fellow. - Black and yellow! - Hello! Left, right, down, hover. - Hover? - Forget hover. This isn't so hard. Beep-beep! Beep-beep! Barry, what happened?! Wait, I think we were on autopilot the whole time. - That may have been helping me. - And now we're not! So it turns out I cannot fly a plane. All of you, let's get behind this fellow! Move it out! Move out! Our only chance is if I do what I'd do, you copy me with the wings of the plane! Don't have to yell. I'm not yelling! We're in a lot of trouble. It's very hard to concentrate with that panicky tone in your voice! It's not a tone. I'm panicking! I can't do this! Vanessa, pull yourself together. You have to snap out of it! You snap out of it. You snap out of it. - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - Hold it! - Why? Oome on, it's my turn. How is the plane flying? I don't know. Hello? Benson, got any flowers for a happy occasion in there? The Pollen Jocks! They do get behind a fellow. - Black and yellow. - Hello. All right, let's drop this tin can on the blacktop. Where? I can't see anything. Oan you? No, nothing. It's all cloudy. Oome on. You got to think bee, Barry. - Thinking bee. - Thinking bee.

Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Wait a minute. I think I'm feeling something. - What? - I don't know. It's strong, pulling me. Like a 27-million-year-old instinct. Bring the nose down. Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! - What in the world is on the tarmac? - Get some lights on that! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! - Vanessa, aim for the flower. - OK. Out the engines. We're going in on bee power. Ready, boys? Affirmative! Good. Good. Easy, now. That's it. Land on that flower! Ready? Full reverse! Spin it around! - Not that flower! The other one! - Which one? - That flower. - I'm aiming at the flower! That's a fat guy in a flowered shirt. I mean the giant pulsating flower made of millions of bees! Pull forward. Nose down. Tail up. Rotate around it. - This is insane, Barry! - This's the only way I know how to fly. Am I koo-koo-kachoo, or is this plane flying in an insect-like pattern? Get your nose in there. Don't be afraid. Smell it. Full reverse! Just drop it. Be a part of it. Aim for the center! Now drop it in! Drop it in, woman! Oome on, already. Barry, we did it! You taught me how to fly! - Yes. No high-five! - Right. Barry, it worked! Did you see the giant flower? What giant flower? Where? Of course I saw the flower! That was genius! - Thank you. - But we're not done yet. Listen, everyone! This runway is covered with the last pollen from the last flowers available anywhere on Earth. That means this is our last chance. We're the only ones who make honey, pollinate flowers and dress like this. If we're gonna survive as a species, this is our moment! What do you say? Are we going to be bees, orjust Museum of Natural History keychains? We're bees! Keychain! Then follow me! Except Keychain. Hold on, Barry. Here. You've earned this. Yeah! I'm a Pollen Jock! And it's a perfect fit. All I gotta do are the sleeves. Oh, yeah. That's our Barry. Mom! The bees are back! If anybody needs to make a call, now's the time. I got a feeling we'll be working late tonight! Here's your change. Have a great afternoon! Oan I help who's next? Would you like some honey with that? It is bee. Don't forget these. Milk, cream, cheese, it's all me. And I don't see a nickel! Sometimes I just feel like a piece of meat! I had no idea. Barry, I'm sorry. Have you got a moment? Would you excuse me? My mosquito associate will help you. Sorry I'm late. He's a lawyer too? I was already a blood-sucking parasite. All I needed was a briefcase. Have a great afternoon! Barry, I just got this huge tulip order, and I can't get them anywhere. No problem, Vannie. Just leave it to me. You're a lifesaver, Barry. Oan I help who's next? All right, scramble, jocks! It's time to fly. Thank you, Barry! That bee is living my life! Let it go, Kenny. - When will this nightmare end?! - Let it all go. - Beautiful day to fly. - Sure is. Between you and me, I was dying to get out of that office. You have got to start thinking bee, my friend. - Thinking bee! - Me? Hold it. Let's just stop for a second. Hold it. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, everyone. Oan we stop here? I'm not making a major life decision during a production number! All right. Take ten, everybody. Wrap it up, guys. I had virtually no rehearsal for that.

#Do not cite the deep magic to me #lil shit.#I was there when it was written

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thegryffindorprincess · 4 years

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Stag Do//Draco Malfoy x SW reader

Request: hello, i’ve been looking for a fic like this everywhere so i was wondering if you could write it? :) i’d love like a draco x sw one shot if thats possible? thankyou :)

A/N: Hi anon! This is such a super idea, thankyou for giving it to me! For everyone that doesn’t know, SW means Sex Worker. I wrote this in the way I did because I love the idea of Draco not knowing how to act with a stripper/lap dancer, let’s be honest he’d have no idea. I hope you enjoy this fic and that it did your dreams justice! Reminder to everyone else that my requests are open for Draco, George, Lucius, Sirius, Remus, Harry and Ron!

Set: Post War

Word Count: 1,061

Warnings: drink, strip club, swearing

How the FUCK did he get here? Draco was stood outside in the long line of a wizarding strip club, rocking back and forth on his feet as his head spun. He groaned as he felt the alcohol heat his whole body. Blaise Zabini was getting married in a week and had decided that this was the groups next destination. Malfoy grimaced at the thought of what went on inside these places and began to play with the rings on his fingers as the line quickly moved along. Crabbe and Goyle had horrible, twisted smirks on their faces, counting out the galleon notes they’d taken out of the bank a few moments before. Zabini and Nott were in deep conversation, with similar grins. Draco tried to loosen up and took another swig of the fire whisky bottle he’d been nursing most of the night. The line was moving very quickly, and eventually the group of boys were at the front.

“Alright lads?” A burly wizard with a twisted dark wood wand stood at the door, acknowledging the boys smirks with one of his own. “Former Slytherin’s yeah?” The boys, apart from Draco laughed with him, explaining that they definitely were. After a few minutes of light conversation, the security guard motioned them inside. Draco stumbled up the stairs behind his friends with baited breath, unsure on what to expect when he reached the top. As he walked out into the club, he was met with the smell of heavy cigarette smoke, old whiskey and strong perfume. The room was completely dark, bar the red lights that glowed from the ceiling and around the bar at the far end. Most of the room was filled by a large stage, which had girls scantily clad dancing on it. The music was pounding from the speakers and the room was so hot, Draco had to remove his black suit jacket, flinging it over his arm. The men took their seats in a booth facing the stage.

“What does Pansy think about you being here then Theo?” Nott laughed at Goyle’s comment and shrugged.

“What she doesn’t know can’t hurt her.” Draco looked around the room, quietly focusing on the girls. Sure, they were pretty, but none of them really took him away. Blaise took to the petite blonde wearing pink and motioned her over. Malfoy sat there a little uncomfortable, simply surveying the scene. His other friends soon were paying for rooms with the girls or for dances, but Draco continued to sit in silence. A new group of women arrived on the stage and this was the first time that night Draco actually bothered to watch. There was a girl, on the side of the stage closest to him that took his breath away. She had Y/C/H that flowed so beautifully from her head he wasn’t quite sure if it was real. Her Y/C/E beamed as she danced in perfect rhythm with the music, her body clad in the most stunning black lingerie he’d ever seen. Draco sat back and just watched, so intently he was worried his eyes were burning through her, but she simply flashed him smile with her perfect teeth. The song finished and he simply watched as she walked away, her eyes looking back at him twice before she disappeared. Draco slumped back in his seat then, pretty sure he’d never see her again. Just as he did, he caught a glimpse of her hair in the corner of his eye and he watched as the girl walked out of the fire exit at the back of the club. He looked at the boys and back at the door, before deciding to do something crazy.

“I’m just gonna go and-” He began, but it was a sentence he never finished. As Draco pushed open the door he’d seen her leave through, his pale palms were beginning to become clammy, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. He turned the corner and there she was, leant up against the wall in a large coat and heals, smoking a cigarette. She looked like a girl from a film, Draco decided. She simply smiled when she saw him, looking at him gently.

“A Malfoy...in my club?” She asked teasingly as Draco awkwardly walked towards her, saying nothing. She offered him a cigarette which he accepted. The two of them smoked in silence.

“So, you must be Draco with hair like that.” Was all she said before flicking her cigarette away into the night. All Draco did was nod, he internally cursed himself.

“I’m Y/N by the way, Y/N Y/L/N,” Draco racked his brain trying to work out who the hell this girl was, “you know, the disgrace to her pure blood family. I was two years below you at Hogwarts.” It clicked as she spoke. Y/N the daughter of death eaters who she’d fought against. He heard his father say such horrible things about her career, but he thought she was talented and brave.

“I remember.” Was all he could manage. Draco was internally attempting to regain his calm and bratty composure, but with little success.

“I saw you watching me dance earlier,” she said breaking up his thoughts, “why didn’t you ask me for a dance?” Draco looked down at her smiling now, the girl pulled the huge coat she was wearing closer to her body, as she leant onto the huge dumpster in the alley way they were in.

“I’m a gentleman,” Draco said casually, “It’s more my style to take you on a date first.” Y/N began to laugh, covering her mouth with her hands.

“You’d like to take me on a date?” She said, attempting to be serious. Draco huffed, annoyed his advances had become a joke.

“I know it’s not usual custom for these places but I’m not a usual custom to these places either.” The girl stopped giggling then and came a little closer.

“I get off in five,” She said looking up at him, “I’m starving and wouldn’t mind taking up your offer.” Draco simply blinked at her unsure of what to say. After a quick pause, the alcohol once more overcame him.

“Deal.” Was all he said, and he watched as the pretty witch wandered back inside, looking back and grinning at him.

#draco #draco malfoy #draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader smut #draco malfoy x reader smut #draco x reader angst #draco malfoy x reader angst #draco malfoy x reader fluff #draco x reader fluff #draco x sw reader #draco malfoy x sw reader #draco x slytherin #draco malfoy x slytherin #draco x slytherin reader #draco malfoy x slytherin reader

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vuelie-frost · 4 years

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Frozen Broadway 2.16.20. Caissie and Patti’s last show.

Okay, I'm finally able to write a rundown of the show.

Note that I'm not experienced in writing about Broadway shows- mostly because I've only seen a handful- and I apologize in advance if this comes off kitschy or redundant. Theatre is a foreign world to me, so I observe as an outsider. I mostly want to write this just to immortalize the experience, but via Tumblr I can share it (to the best of my ability) with you all! - My seat was ORCH row A, which is second row, in the right section.

- I went by myself (took the weekend as a "mini vacation" to NYC)

- I did see this show last May with Caissie & Patti, and although it's been almost a year, I do have a "normal" performance to compare it to. Mattea Conforti was right outside the door as I walked in, talking to a doorman. I realized later when exiting that a small slew of the previous young Annas and Elsas were in attendance too- they were sitting a few rows behind me. Waiting for the show to begin, I heard a lot of chatter around me regarding Caissie & Patti finishing their runs. Everyone seemed to be here intentionally for this night. A lot of young adults & older teens (?) in my vicinity. Kids too, as expected, but the number of adults was notable. As soon as the first few notes of that orchestral Vuelie hit, I started to tear up. It literally crashes into the theatre with a swell of vocal harmonies and percussive beats. It's hard to not be overwhelmed. Vuelie has always had this effect on me. It's like it's saying "Come, let me tell you this story." I was reminded of Hadestown and the motif of repetition, how we listen to the same stories over and over again even if we know the end. I wonder why that is. The first scenes with the little girls ran like clockwork- they're brilliant and funny. I remained teary through this whole sequence, because it's just childlike happiness and wholeness before everything goes to shit. Knowing what's going to happen, it just grips your empathy. And then Patti took the stage. Patti entered to the darkened back of the stage as the scenes were shifting between young Anna & adult Anna, which means her entrance itself didn't garner applause. But as soon as that spotlight hit her, it was an uproar. Wild applause. Standing ovation. The music stopped- it had to- no one could have heard it anyway. Tears visible in her eyes, she just looked out and straight ahead. Her face was flushed. It was evident she was emotional & didn't try to suppress it fully, but had to maintain some composure to get through the scene. She kept nodding slightly and pressing her hand to her chest, acknowledging us. This almost broke me. She knew. But she had a job to do, a few lines to sing (which she did perfectly DESPITE CRYING.) Eventually when it quieted she sang. The door swiveled. The light hit Caissie. All over again, a thundering standing ovation. This is where Caissie's brilliance lies, because she was borderline stoic while waiting for us to finish applauding. She gazed out at us for awhile, eventually shifting her focus upward and to her left, and to the door behind her. I don't think she smiled- she might have nodded once or twice. She waited. The emotionality displayed by Patti, which we all love for its honesty, was foiled by Caissie's ability to hold it together, which we love for its professionalism. (Don't even get me started on how in-character these contrasting displays were. I could go on and on about how these women match their characters so beautifully.)

From that second, something shifted in the audience. We were no longer spectators, we were participants in blurring the fourth wall. Not that we heckled or were addressed directly by the company. But we came alive. The actresses knew. We knew. We shared that unspoken sentiment. The show continued.

I don't have specific examples here because it's only something you can observe, but it was very obvious that both women were putting 110% into this performance. I understand sometimes in performance art that for self-preservation or focus, you make minor changes to how lines are said, or the emphasis of certain words, or how your facial expressions change. Sometimes you hold back a bit. Caissie and Patti went all out. Their acting was never compromised. Patti's hilarity as Anna hit every punchline perfectly. Caissie's portrayal of nervousness and fear was so believable. I also wish I could have captured every moment they looked at each other. I mostly saw Caissie's face from my perspective, but the way they look at each other is genuine. I get the sense they have this unspoken communication between them after doing the show so many times together. Dangerous to Dream was beautiful per always, and at the moment Patti kneels upstage, I again saw tears glimmering in her eyes. How this woman can do a whole show so obviously affected and STILL NAILING IT is genius. At the end of Love is an Open Door, Patti and Joe took a moment to just grin wildly at each other and grip each other's arms and bear-hug. I didn't realize this was Joe's last show as well, so it was their last duet of that song. Let it Go was spellbinding. Caissie took every opportunity to option up not just on the final few notes (which have been unfortunately bootlegged, and you've probably heard already) but in tiny points along the whole song. She actually did this with all her songs. If there was a half step variation she could do, she did it. It was remarkable. You get the sense she was having fun, trying to engage us. I remember an interview where she once said on certain shows or nights if she's feeling up to it, she likes to give the audience a little something extra. This was THE night. As she walked back before the dress change, I could feel people around me suddenly shift to get a better view. We all knew and we all wanted to see it. In a recent interview she said she just stands there and braces. You wouldn't know it- it looks effortless. The nanosecond the dress changed: standing ovation. This is where she started really grinning wildly and belting her lungs out. She was at the foot of center stage, riffing and optioning up a storm. Her expression was so joyous. She's said before that this is her favorite part of the show. Every time she optioned up (which was like, each one of the last four notes) there was a massive wave of cheers and applause. I expected her to do maybe one or two. She did four or five. And keep in mind this was her SECOND SHOW OF THE DAY. The song ends abruptly with her turning around with a swish of her cape & the lights going nearly out, and I get the sense that the thunderous applause wanted to keep going because we wanted her to SEE us. We wanted to face her and give her the recognition. We wanted to stop the show like in the beginning and show her how much she means to us, and how honored we are to hear her last Let it Go. But the choreography doesn't let that happen, because immediately the lights come back up for intermission, and she's gone. I wonder if she secretly likes that sequence, as Caissie seems to be the kind of person whose humility doesn't let her drink in compliments or praise. She was able to give us everything she had, and then disappear. Such an Elsa move. Monster had some riffs (which is not in any way disappointing because Caissie gave us 200% in Let it Go, which was enough to satiate me for years) but I did want to mention one in particular. If you watched Jelani's backstage videos on YouTube from the first few months of the show, he does this segment where he gets Caissie to riff. She does one from Monster for the line "Would that take the storm away/Or only make it grow." I'm not going to try and phonetically replicate it, but that. She did that. I was hoping she would, as it's one of my favorite variations of hers, and she did. I was ecstatic. The finale song is where Patti started crying again and from the moment they started walking backstage to the rising platform, it was applause all around. In that sequence they're facing away from the audience and I can only imagine the exchange- spoken or unspoken- between them. They did it. Their run was over. There are a few lines at the end that may just be me projecting, but they felt poignant in how Caissie delivered them & her expression looking at Patti (again, Patti was facing away from me, so I didn't catch her expression.) I get the sense they had a triple meaning, as they not only marked the end of the show but represent sentiments two sisterly women would have.

"The magic one is you." (This is perhaps my favorite line in the whole song.) "Let the sun shine on" "Let's fill this world with light and love/And now surrounded by a family at last/We're never going back, the past is in the past." The final "let it go" line in the song Caissie looked joyous. She was all smiles. She grinned at Patti. There was a look of pride in her eyes. At bows, apparently Caissie and Patti have this tradition where they say “I love you” at the front of the stage before bowing. I could only see Caissie, but she mouthed “I love you” to Patti with such a big smile and so much happiness. If Caissie cried at all prior to bows & acknowledgements, I didn't notice it. It's possible she's just very very good at hiding it. Even during Robert, Bobby, and Kristin talking at the very end, she only wiped her eyes once or twice. (I won't recount this part very much because many people filmed it and you can watch it yourselves. I've seen it on Instagram, though I haven't browsed Tumblr for it yet.) Patti, of course, could not hide her feelings. Caissie kept hugging her and squeezing her and holding her hand during all the kind words. At once point she wiped her thumb on Patti's cheek. Patti is a treasure. I have to respect the woman for being brave enough to show all of herself to us, even if it was involuntary. And I need to reiterate that she did the whole show perfectly even while crying & feeling a lot of feelings. She's a rockstar. Caissie, while fielding a slew of compliments from Robert & Kristin, would every once in awhile look down and do a funny little shake of her head. I get the sense she has a hard time accepting praise. Knowing she’s such a perfectionist at heart, she was probably internally fighting back with reasons why she didn’t deserve those kind words. I get it. It doesn’t matter how successful you are, you will always focus on the things you didn’t do or didn’t do enough. For someone of her caliber, it’s utterly fascinating to watch her humility. One last thing I want to point out. I mentioned earlier that from the moment of our first standing ovation, the atmosphere in the crowd changed. We went from spectators to a living, breathing mass. It was electric. Once you felt the gravity of the cheers and claps and whoops, you realized what you were part of. I heard from a reviewer on Twitter that he hadn't been part of such a lively audience-performer relationship since the closing show of In the Heights. Because that's what was different about last night. We crossed some sort of line where the art itself was no longer performance, but we partook in it. There's something really holy about the invisible exchange between performers and the spectators. Frozen is a masterpiece on its own, and we were all blessed to watch it. But when art becomes a give-take exchange of feelings, emotes, cathartic impulses, and unspoken communication, it becomes something new entirely. This was no ordinary night. Caissie and Patti gave all of themselves to us, and we knew, and we answered back. It felt alive in a way I didn't realize theatre could feel. The fourth wall ceased to exist, but only because both sides dissolved it. It wasn't direct. It wasn't obvious. No exchange of words indicated it. We just felt it and knew. They did too. It was an honor to take up space in the St James last night. I haven’t stopped thinking about it, and I will never forget it.

#frozen the broadway musical #frozen #elsa #anna #caissie levy #patti murin

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buginabog · 5 years

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Am I Dreaming Or Dead? Ch. 3

Summary: sanders sides horror story. Purely self indulgent.

Pairings: loceit, royality, remile

Warnings: sympathetic deceit, horror, body horror, death, Remus/the duke, guilt, guilting

Virgil walked along the edge of the forest, "why cant we just go in?"

Remy looked back, "we need to spend as little time as possible in the forest. The more time we're in there, the less protection we have."

Virgil nodded and looked at the road, silently wishing his dad would come and hug him and tell him it was ok. Remy could do it himself, and he didnt have to go into the scary forest with a body count.

Remy tapped his shoulder, then gestured into the woods, "this way."

His phone rang and he pulled it out, looked at the contact, and his face went pale, "oh shiiit it's your dad."

Virgil frowned, "which one?"

Remy answered the call and put it on speaker, "heeeeeey Dee?"

Declans voice sounded angry, and not amused, "Remy. Where are you and is Virgil with you?"

Remy flinched, "yyeeees."

Declan took an audible breath, then started to yell, "REMY! ARE YOU INSANE?"

Remy nodded along, "I mean yes. Probably."

Declans voice changed to a growl, "Remy why the hell are you bringing my son into the forest?"

Remy sighed, "to free Roman!"

Declan sighed, "just wait until me and Lo get there."

Remy frowned, "... he cant come in."

"He says he knows what you have to do."

Remys face stilled, "well, so do we. Snd I'm not risking his life."

Declans tone turned amused, "so you dont hate him then?"

Remy frowned, "of course I dont! Why would you-" he looked ashamed, "he thinks I hate him?"

Logan piped up, "it's a fair assumption Remy."

Remy sighed, "well... ok. We'll wait for you."

Ten Years Ago

Remy burst in through the front door, "did you find him?"

Logan looked at him, and shook his head with tears in his eyes, "I- I'm so sorry Remy..."

Remys eyes flashed and he stalked toward Logan, "what the hell did you so specs!?" He pulled him up, "where is he?!"

Logan stammered and tried to get away, "he went into the forest! I don't know! He said he saw something! He left a note! Remy put me down!"

Remy dropped Logan and snatched up the note, his eyes scanning the writing, "no. Nononono NO!" He turned on Logan, "this is all your fault!"

"My fault what did I do?"

"You never believed in him! You always critiqued his ideas and never took him seriously! All he wanted was for his brother to take him seriously and did you? NO!"

Logan stepped back, shocked, "Remy I- I didnt know... he never said anything... I didnt know... is it my fault? It cant be my fault."

Remy snarled at him, "well it is."

Declan stood between them, "everyone calm down!" He glared at Remy, "we're all scared for Roman. But blaming each other," he looked at Logan, "or ourselves, wont help anything!"

Remy growled, "of course you'd side with him." He stalked out the door, "I'm going to look for Roman. Maybe he'll respond to someone who actually loves him."

Present Day

Virgils head snapped up when he heard a car pull up. He saw his dads step out and he ran to them, "L! Dee!" He stopped in front of them and hugged them.

Declan patted his head, "Its ok Virgil. We're here."

Logan pulled away and put his hands on Virgils shoulders, "I hope you know how much trouble you're going to be in once we're done here."

Virgil laughed nervously, "I think I have a... rough estimate?"

Logan arched an eyebrow, then hugged Virgil, "I'm just glad you stayed out of that forest."

Remy coughed behind them, "speaking of... hes gonna need to come with me and Declan."

Logan glared at Remy, "why is that exactly?"

Remy rubbed the back of his neck, "well, you can't go into the forest cause you dont have any warlock blood. So you'd die or at the very least get trapped." He gestured at Virgil, "I need one of you in order to find the crystal. And by all accounts Virgil is safer in the forest then you would be."

Logan sighed, "but-"

"Do you want to save your brother or not?"

Logan broke, "of- of course I do... but..." he sighed, "he has to be between you two at all times." He looked at his husband, "never take your eyes off him."

Declan kissed Logan, "of course." He rested his hand on Virgils shoulder, "you ready?"

Virgil nodded, "as I'll ever be."

Roman sat next to Morality, "my brother... I let him into the Chamber."

Morality gasped, "is he there now?"

Roman shook his head, "no. It was a dream."

Morality sighed in relief, "good." He looked to him, "do you think..."

Roman finished his sentence, "that he'll save us? Perhaps. Perhaps not."

Morality sighed and leaned on Roman's shoulder, "I hope he does."

Roman wrapped an arm around Pattons shoulder, "me too, my dear."

Morality sighed, "what do you miss the most about being alive?"

Roman laughed, "Morality, dear, I've answered this question before."

Morality looked up at him, "but your answer may have changed. Humour me?"

Roman sighed and looked up at the sky, "I think... acting." He nodded, "I always felt so important up there on that stage. With everyone watching me and cheering for me..."

Morality sighed, "if we get out of here, I want to see you act. It sounds like you really enjoy it. And miss it."

Roman squeezed Morality a little closer, "I do. And I would love that." He looked down, "what do you miss the most?"

Morality sighed, "my son. He was so little when I died. I always wonder what happened to him."

Roman sighed, "maybe... we could try and find him? He has to be somewhere."

Morality smiled bitterly, "that is a nice thought Roman."

Virgil looked around anxiously. He didnt trust this. He didnt trust the dark around him. Stretching out on all sides.

He didnt trust the howling of wind that sounded like laughter.

He didnt particularly trust Remy if he was being completely honest.

All that he trusted was his dads hand on his shoulder, protecting him.

Remy turned around, "ok, kid, I'm gonna need a refresh on where it is. I'm warning you in advance cause I'm gonna need to look."

Virgil nodded and took a breath, "do it."

Remy removed his sunglasses and looked, down down down, deep into Virgils soul, and left. He nodded, "got it." He turned sharply, "let's go."

He went from tree to tree, watching the warlocks fight their way through. They were protected for now.

But eventually he would have them. Eventually their protection would fail and he would be free to devour them all.

For the forest is hungry.

And it wants to feed.

He passed behind tree after tree, watching his family pass through the forest. They were protected, for now.

But eventually the Hunter would try and take them. Eventually their protection would fail and Roman would have to watch as they were devoured.

For the forest is hungry.

And it needs to feed.

He watched his son.

Did he remember him? Would he know him if he saw him again?

He hoped so.

Would his son save him? Free him?

Yes. He had faith.

Declan looked around, only to see trees for miles. He could feel eyes watching him. Two sets of eyes, and one of something that was not quite eyes anymore.

The wind sounded like laughter... or were the trees laughing at them? Nothing seemed right...

He has to always be on guard.

For the forest is hungry.

And it will feed.

Remy pulled apart vine after vine after vine after vine after-

They were in that forest for hours that stretched into centuries.

Until finally, finally they reached a dome of writhing brambles, a faint glow coming through the cracks.

Remy gasped, "...we're here."

Virgil looked up at the neverending wall of thorns, "...how are we supposed to get through?"

He rubbed his wrist anxiously, it seemed almost impossible to get through, the wall looked so high and thick, how were they supposed to get throu-

Purple filled his vision as he was pushed back by something.

When his vision cleared, a hole had punched through the brambles, the edges glowing a faint purple. He frowned, "what... what happened?"

Remy looked at him, "...you're a lot more powerful than I thought you were kid."

That one.

That warlock was different from the others. Dangerous dangerous. But also so so tempting.

He would keep Remus going for centuries.

But he had to be careful, clever.

Not the soft one... he looked closer at the one with glasses... him.

He would have laughed... but that was something he lost long ago.

Roman squeezed Morality's hand tighter, he could feel the Duke's gaze on them, his winds swirling around, his roots raising beneath their feet.

"Morality-"

Morality squeezed back, "I know dear... he cant hurt us."

"I know that... but our family..."

"...they're protected... they have to be."

Virgil looked at the hole, "did I make that!?"

Remy nodded slowly, "yes..." his head snapped up, "hurry, its closing!"

Virgil got up and scrambled to the hole, barely making it through.

The trio looked at the crystal, pulsing green, blue, purple and all other colors.

A man manifested in the opposite side of the clearing. Virgil gaped at him. He was sadly smiling, and he looked at Virgil like a man forgotten. "Dad?" Virgil whispered.

The man started crying, "hey kiddo."

Virgils eyes filled with tears, "Dad!"

He started to run toward him, but Remy grabbed his shoulder, "Virgil wait!"

Virgil pulled his arm out of Remys grasp, "get off!"

He ran into the arms of the man in front of him. As soon as his arms wrapped around him, he felt thorns prick into his back and sides, he looked up to see a thing made of thorns and leaves and bark.

It started to talk, "how nice of you to come running into my trap! I'm Remus," it grinned, "nice ta meet ya!"

Cold rushed into Virgil and he fell into black.

"-do? Kiddo?"

Virgil blinked awake to see two men looking at him, one was a man who looked just like Logan, and the other was, "dad?" He propped himself up onto his elbows, "is that... you?"

Patton reached out and cupped his cheek in his palm, "yes. Its me." He smiled sadly, "you remind me so much of your mother."

Virgil grabbed his hand, "really?"

Patton nodded, "yes. She was so, so brave and strong. Just like you."

Virgil shook his head, "I'm not brave, or strong, or any of that."

Patton shook his head, "but you are." He smiled sadly, "you need to tell your parents that they did an excellent job raising you after I died."

The other wrapped an arm around him, "if I know my brother at all, they took good care of him."

Virgil gasped in realization, "you're Ro-"

Patton clamped a hand over his mouth, "dont say his name! Names have power. If the Duke knows your name, he can take all of you."

Virgil nodded slowly, "ok... ok."

Pattons head snapped up, he looked to the side for a few minutes, as if he was listening to something Virgil couldnt hear. He turned back to Virgil, "always remember I love you." He leaned in to kiss Virgils forehead, "you have to wake up now."

Virgil gasped as he shot up sitting. He saw Remy and Declan standing over the shattered remains of a crystal. Remus screamed as he came undone.

Two men walked into the clearing, smiling. Patton turned to Virgil, "you did it... you beat him."

Declan walked over and extended his hand, "hi, I'm Declan, Virgils dad."

Patton hugged him, "thank you." He pulled back, "thank you for looking after him."

Remy stepped towards Roman, "...Ro?"

Roman ran towards Remy, "Remy!"

Remy burst into tears, "it's really you..."

Epilogue

Virgil went downstairs to see his dad cooking breakfast happily, Declan was humming as he fussed with multiple pans and pots. Logan was sat on a counter, drinking coffee. Virgil laughed, "I thought you said counters weren't for sitting?"

Logan sipped from his mug before answering, "I'm your father, I'm allowed to be a hypocrite."

Declan laughed as he kissed his husband on the cheek, "of course dear." As he turned back to the oven he called to Virgil, "by the way, Roman and Patton are coming over later, they might want to see you latest drawing?"

Virgil hunched over, "well..."

Logan smiled at his son, "Virgil... theyll understand."

Virgil nodded, "right... yeah, I might show them." He turned to Declans back, "hey, could I go over to Remy and Emiles? I wanna hang out with Elliott."

Declan nodded, "after breakfast. Make sure to be back by two."

Virgil nodded, "sure thing dee-dad."

Declan turned and scrunched his nose at Virgil, "good."

Everything was... more or less back to normal.

And if Virgil flinched when something poked his back,

If Patton and Roman's skin felt like crumbling leaves when you brushed against it,

If Declan and Remy hated everything to do with crystals,

Well, no one was going to blame them.

Taglist:

@burningpersonflapsuitcase @an-absolute-failure @lucifer-in-my-head @fury-of-rome @nonbinaryblossom @spirits-in-my-thoughts @eternalmoonlight19

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danmeiljie · 11 months

Text

He looks up and down his body THREE TIMES.

#the xu feng gaze #it affects us all #gong jun #xu feng #my bad gifs #advance bravely #l watches advance bravely #龚俊 #徐峰 #l does not stop watching advance bravely

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thebrandings · 5 years

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How would all the ROs react if the MC gets hurt (not necessarily dying but wouldn't oppose to it because we love A N G S T) because they're trying to protect the ROs?

Hello! I wrote about the MC dying because I am a fellow angst fan! I may not have really put an emphasis on the MC doing it to protect the MC because at the moment it doesn’t matter to the ROs, the fact that the MC is hurt and dying is the only thing that they care about. Though after the reality settles in and the battle is won, they’ll all feel very much at fault and will each handle it differently.

Thank you for the fun ask and I hope you enjoy it!

Lily/Ollie/Oliver (She/They/Him)“L-lovey?” She asks, her voice catching in her throat as she watches your body fall to the ground with a painful thud. Heart stilled, she immediately reaches out to you and you can feel her body begin to shake as she holds onto you as a lifeline.

“You’re okay. You’re gonna be okay, lovey.” She whispers in your ear, tears already streaming down her cheeks at a fast rate though she quickly wipes it away when she notices you staring. “You’ve survived worse. You’ll get up. I j-just know you will.” She smiles painfully, tightening her hold on you as if her raw strength will keep you with her. Inwardly, she nods, reassuring herself. She’s seen some of your worse moments back in the cell. You’ve been knocked out before and like always, you’ll get up. You have to.

“Why’d you do that, MC?” She asks innocently, although deep inside she already knew the answer. After all, she’d do the same for you. She burrows her face in your neck, sobbing harshly into you, her soft hands fisting tightly into your top. “Why!” She shouts, her tear-stained face staring upwards to glare at you. She continues to stare at you, unbeknown to the people slowly advancing towards you, weapons drawn. Flaring with unstable emotions, her blue wall though not called on from her, begins to build up, seemingly feeding off her strong feelings towards you. The blue wall flashes with color, first red, next dark blue, and then finally black.

The advancers raise to attack but her blue wall immediately backs into defense. They swing their weapons towards it, though upon making contact with the wall, it immediately flings them back with an strong, unseeable force.

“Why.” Lily whispers, harshly rubbing her face with her hand, her voice becoming strangled as if she were the one dying; the battle long forgotten in her mind. You slowly close your eyes, the will in your body quickly diminishing. “L-lovey.” She says, her voice becoming completely broken and utterly hopeless. She squeezes your hand as you drift off before looking up and glaring at the monster who killed you. Her everything.

Victoria/Tor/Vick (She/They/Him)He stares at you in slow motion as you fall down, already waiting for you to get up and smile at him. This was just like a book he read; a romantic one he continued to reread and enjoy. He was very emotional with books though he’d never admit it. And just like the book, someone gets hurt but at this moment it didn’t fell like a book at all, it felt real. Too real, indeed. He looks at you, waiting for you to get up. You’d get up, he thought. just like the character did and kick ass. Or maybe he’d rush you to the hospital, where you’d wake up. It didn’t matter to him, just as long as you got up.

But you weren’t getting up. In fact, you’re weren’t even moving. He crouches down, his head tilted in genuine confusion. “MC?” He asks, his voice already beginning to take on a higher pitch as his worse reality begins to form right in front of his eyes. He jostles your shoulder, but still no movement. “MC?” He repeats, his worry steadily increasing as time passes. Quickly, yet gently he grabs you; already rushing to find someone, anyone that can help.

“Aila!” He shouts, drawing onlookers but he continues to run. “Chris!” He yells, searching for someone but in his state of mind, he sees no one. Eventually, he stops running, his fatigue collapsing as he continued to look for help, and stares at you in his arms.

“M-MC?” He whispers, realization finally dawning on him. He tightens his hold on you before falling down on his knees. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, MC.” He whispers, tears flowing down his cheeks as he caresses your face. “Why?” He says, looking up at the clouds; hopelessly searching for a miracle. “Why does everyone I love die?”

He gently passes you to one of the nurses running around. “I swear, if their body isn’t still here by the time I get back.” He threatens, a dark look overcoming his face. He sighs, deciding to leave it at that and heads back to where the battle was being fought. He had lost someone important to him, again. And he was going to do the same thing he had, then. He was going to make sure they didn’t die in vain but first there was someone specific on his list.

Christine/Chris/Chris (She/They/Him)Chris swings their arm up in their air, a raised fist pump. “We did it, MC. I knew we’d make a good time.” They say, finally turning around to look at you. But they don’t see you. “MC?” They ask bewildered, still looking around, side to side, for you. They notice a form and immediately their heart skips a beat in fear before they shake their head.

That’s not you, it couldn’t be, but the clothes are the same. They slowly walk towards you, in fear. They raise their shaking hand to their mouth as they catch sight of your face. “W-when…” They trail off, falling down to their knees beside you. They grip their fists, their power beginning to show as a gold tint lights up their eyes.

Your hand twitches, as if you could sense them. They immediately calm down, afraid they’d hurt you. “This is my fault, isn’t it?” They ask, a tear trailing its way downwards. They sigh, smashing their fist down towards the ground in anger. Immediately, they curse at the pain though as they stare at the blood beginning to flow from the cuts, they smile painfully.

“I’m such an idiot. I loved-love you, you know.” They mumble, glancing at your body before laying down next to it. They shiver at your body’s coldness and emotionless eyes. “This is the part where you say you love me too and we live happily ever after.”

They continue to lie down with you, as if a battle wasn’t currently being fought. They spot something in the corner of their eye and instantly move to protect your body. The blade strikes them instead and a fire begins to burn in their eyes. “What do you say, sweet pea?” They laugh humorously, stalking towards their now retreating prey. “Should I kill them quickly or painfully.” They ask, staring at your body as if it were going to reply. They turn back to the attacker, almost in glee while taking the knife out of their side. “Painfully it is then.“

Fable (She/They/Him)Fable rushes at you, capturing you in his arms right before you fall to the ground. He glares at the retreating figure not even finding the desire to hunt them down while you lay there, hurt. “Are you okay?” He asks, turning all his attention towards you with a vulnerable look in his eye.

“Don’t speak.” He softly instructs once he notices you try to struggle to. He gently lays his grips his hand around your wrist, his eyes roaming all over your injuries. He sags in defeat, already knowing that there’s no way you’re coming back from this. Yet he still tries, shouting out orders to the people still fighting. “I need a first aid kit!” He growls, forcibly grabbing the supplies before they can hand it to him.

“It’s okay, MC. You’re gonna be fine.” He reassures, meeting your eyes; a new level of determination and desperation entering his posture. “I’m gonna make sure of it.” He hesitates, his face scrunching up in sadness before injecting you with a needle. Immediately, you begin to struggle, horrid memories appearing in your mind but soon you start to feel relaxed, tired even.

Your eyes stare at him as he continues to work on you though eventually, his movements start to slow down and he stares at you; tears rolling down his face. “I’m sorry.” He mutters, placing his forehead against yours, his tears starting to rain down on your face. “Please stay.” He whimpers, shaking his head in denial. “I don’t know what I’d do without you. So please stay for me; for us.” He reaches for your hand, squeezing it gently before shaking his head again.

“I’m sorry, was that selfish?” He looks at you, a small obviously forced smile expressed on his face. “I guess I’ll have to be selfish this one time.” He sniffles, his whole posture vulnerable as he leans into you, one more time.

Aila (She)Her whole attention immediately shifts from the battle as she catches sight of your fall, her inhumane speed allowing her to grabs you before you endure more damage and pain. “Darling.” She says, her breath forcibly taken out of her as you land on her. She quickly takes notice of your faint, almost silent pulse; her own starting to mimic yours and she stares at you in disbelief and denial. Hastily, she looks around her surroundings, her eyes catching sight of the one who bravely attacked you.

Her teeth bare and she swiftly takes a knife from another member of the dead, instantly taking aim at the person’s head. Although, not the best at combat, the knife connects and Aila watches with sadness as the person falls. She turns back to you, her expression breathtakingly calm and full of regret. “I’m sorry, darling. I just took you from one hell to another, didn’t I?” She whispers, her hand playing with your hair.

“It’s okay.” She coos, somehow beginning to lay down on the ground with you secured safely on top of her. “I’ll keep you safe.” She murmurs, her eyes beginning to tear up though against all odds, she manages to keep them from spilling. She knew she she shouldn’t have fallen in love with you but she did. She cursed herself, did her feelings cause this? She clenched her eyes shut. She didn’t want to regret it but if not being involved with you would have kept you alive, she can’t help but curse everything.

No, she wouldn’t spend her last moments with you like this. She wouldn’t regret anything but not being able to save you. “I love you, darling. I always will.” She whispers, kissing you last one time on the forehead. “I’m so s-sorry.” She mumbles, her whole body beginning to shake as the cries she tried so hard to keep in begin to escape.

Hayden (They)They turn around immediately cutting down the person who dared lay a hand on you. “No!” They shout, once they finally turn to you, already lost before they could hold you one more time. They curse themselves, rushing over to your body; no one daring to attack them.

“MC.” They say, skidding to a stop right beside your body. They fall on their hands, collecting cuts along the way though their attention is solely focused on you. “You idiot.” They curse, although their tone is soft. Way softer than usual. “I’m supposed to protect you, that’s my job, my responsibility; not yours.” They say, their hand cradling your head as they try and stop their tears from flowing.

“Why?” They ask, their voice quiet and will broken. “I’m nobody important, not compared to you anyway.” They say, shaking their head at you. They sniffle, their eyes closed in denial. “Aila’s going to kill you if you die.” They laugh painfully at the irony. “She’ll kill me too.” They say, opening their eyes to stare into your unmoving ones. “That’s why you did this, right? So I wouldn’t die? It’ll all turn to waste; so that’s why you have to live.” They say, though they don’t even make sense to themself.

Is this what I’ll become without them? A crazed lunatic? No, they think shaking their head. A heartbroken mess? “Please, MC? I promise I won’t be so overbearing and protective.” They lie, knowing that if the MC somehow miraculously made it, they’d be on them like moths on light.

They place their sword next to your body, reluctantly getting up. “I’m sorry.” They part, walking back towards the battle; injuring everyone who gets in their way and not glancing back as they feel their heart break in two. They feel a tear slide down their face but they advance onwards, feeling nothing as they continue their hunt.

#Christine/Chris/Chris #Lily/Ollie/Oliver #Victoria/Tor/Vick #Fable #Aila #Hayden #thebrandings #death #allROs #angst #Anon #Olivia/Ollie/Oliver

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soulwitch · 5 years

Text

Redbellion: Gears Turning

Part 4 of Redbellion Event Story.

The events of Bammun shocked the galaxy, not as in anyone was surprised an attack was carried out, but by the specific methods taken by the Directive. Worries and fears were abuzz with how the Exterminators would live up to their name, some believed they would invade and conquer, taking a hold of the planet and enslaving, but none thought they would make use of a colossus weapon to crack the planet.

Everyone thought, no matter what that they would have time, room to be flexible and respond to save those in any captured space and planet. No one expected such a weapon to be used, especially so soon, at the outset of an attack. But now the galaxy was aware, aware and on edge, the assembly would gather soon and the situation at hand would be tabled. While it seemed for a time everyone was on the same page, the reality was far different.

Each Stellar Empire was outraged, angry, its representatives of each planet and each empire were clawing with anger and hatred towards the robotics and androids. Throwing objects and the Directive and Collective’s ambassador. Yet despite all of this unified hate, it seemed clear from the start none of the Stellar Empire’s wished to act in a coordinated fashion.

Person after person ascended into the center, speaking to the crowd. First Kansaku, pleading for those to react and help, Bammun was very much an Agri-world for the Confederacy and without it, their population would need to rely on outside trade for planetary food.

But their pleas seemed to land on deaf ears. Following them, the Izalith made a speech, their priestess Yndatha informing all that such a heretical act of aggression will not be forgiven, and that they would, in a holy crusade against machine, sweep through the Directive. That if others wished to survive the coming Armageddon, they ought to submit. It was clear, her words were nothing more than religious preach.

The minor speeches from the Tatari and the Anfari were almost glossed over, the traders simply informed the others they’d stop trading with the Directive, and the Anfari isolated, simply expressed its condolences to the loss of life. The Senji too merely informed the others they didn’t see eye to eye with either robotic faction, and would help rebuild once the war was over.

This left all eyes on the Acadians. Everyone expecting the Grand Admiral to come out and speak again, this time with the blessing of her Empire. Instead however, a small frail looking man would come to the platform in the center of the Assembly. And would simply express the Acadian condolences for their Sister Empire’s loss as well as support in funding.

That was it. A planet lay in ruins, the Directive already mobilizing further fleets, and the galaxy seemed both aware but uncaring. The every empire seemed so distant, as if it wasn’t their problem yet, that it could wait till it was right on their doorstep. Every empire.

But not every flag would remain silent.

Coming to the platform, an oddity for the Assembly. A member of the Asseimono, gazing upon the hundreds and thousands of people present, a growl of displeasure heard before Rek’Thaar spoke. “You meat bags are pathetic, the machines have blown apart the planet of green innocents. And you all stand here, lost lambs. The Asseimono won’t sit idly by, we will go to the Kansaku’s aide, we will get revenge for our lost friends and their lost families. You can all rot in your assembly and politics.” His words ended with a snarl, claws digging into the platform out of anger before it lowered and he stomped off.

The assembly now turned its attention to a woman who rose up on the platform, to newcomers she wouldn’t be a recognized face, but for the hundreds here she was the source of all available information. The Assembly’s unique deterrent was this very moment, standing tall on the pedestal to speak, she produced a data slate and directed everyone to look at their own. This woman, knowing as the Librarian of the Assembly would each day present the galaxy with all known actions of relevance. Apart from the Collective and Directive who’s technology allowed them to hide from the Sentry Array owned by the Galactic Assembly, the rest of the galaxy’s actions could not be hidden at least in terms of large scale situations.

Everyone would have access to the same data she presented, from fleet movements of the Izalith, to political advances of radical parties, information of which was acquired through other means.

“With our Stellar Empire addresses out of the way, I will direct you to the list of events going on within our galaxy. Please read carefully before tabling a motion.”

Data Slate Contents Below

(Everyone will have access to this information, as all who attends the assembly are given this data slate.)

The Extermination Directive, having cracked the planet of Bammun, have gone on an all out offensive against the Red Collective. Current taking place all over their Northern Borders.

In the Galactic West, The Izalith Syndicate seem to be gathering their fleets to Siet, however there is no information if there are any Extermination Directive Fleets in Teae, or if they plan to attack the Izalith at all.

In the Galactic South-East, the fleet that destroyed Bammun has returned to Diadem, but it seems the Asseimono Raiders are keen to enact revenge and may sortie from Inegore soon to join up with the slowly arriving fleet of the Kansaku in Acamar.

Somewhere in the Extermination Directive Space there is a large moving gravitational anomaly, however it is moving from Nebula to Nebula so we’re unable to confirm what it is, and the Ambassador does not seem keen on sharing the information.

Additional Data From Empire to Empire

United Federation of Acadia

Many planetary Reps are polling their home worlds to gauge interest in a war.

The Acadian President is vocally condemning the Directive’s Actions.

New Coventry is experiencing the worst brought on record.

Grand Admiral Ueda grows tireless towards the Federations lack of action.

Kansaku Confederacy

The Kansaku main fleet is rushing towards Acamar to join up with the Asseimono.

The loss of Bammun is setting the Confederacy on the verge of having a famine.

The old leader of the Kansaku is delegating further powers to the council.

Izalith Syndicate

the Izalith are gathering at Siet.

In Adranell on Vi Sullug a mass congregation of believers are making pilgrimage to a holy site, despite the planet not being blessed by holy light.

Senji Architects

An open channel for peaceful talks between life and metal is being offered by the Production Core that oversees the Senji.

Senji are accepting new orders for warships from non-machine empires.

Velutarian Archivists

The Velutarian remind you not to intrude on their space.

Caravaneer Coalition

Inter-galactic passports are being offered to all extra-dimensional visitors.

The Casino has a sale!

The Caravaneers are offering to take anyone anywhere in this time of turmoil.

Asseimono Raiders

The Asseimono are grabbing every hunk of junk in hopes of following the Kansaku in a revenge attack.

They believe no one will come to help the Kansaku.

Red Collective

Is currently responding to multiple attacks from the Directive

Jeanne is looking to re-open the L-Gates.

The androids are still split on who to support, some are lost currently and need to be found.

Extermination Directive

Launching an all out attack on the Red Collective to test their strength.

Sending probes to scout old Precursor systems.

Anfari Consciousness

Currently watching events unfold, feeling isolated by both machine and sapient life due to past grudges against them.

Tatari Commerce League

Wish to collect further information, the Tatari as seeking brave people to do a little...friendly information gathering.

That’s Part 4. Sorry for the delay, if you haven’t seen the detailed map, system, and planet post click here.

There’s a lot happening in the galaxy now, every faction’s contacts will be looking for things they can do, ways to influence the next tabled motion.

But what will be tabled? I have some tabled motions to use, but from now one if there’s any ideas you wish to submit, or see happen, any plot changes, events, anything, any plans you want to scheme out in public.

Simply submit it, and it’ll be tabled in the next part. Motions that your muses want to see happen, of course all tabled motions are kept anonymous. So you can try to plan one thing in public, and scheme in private.

An example of a tabled motion if say you’re not so nice, is to table focusing support on the drought on New Coventry, so that people get drawn to doing that instead of perhaps, helping the Asseimono.

Or vise versa, tabling a motion to support them some how. Or perhaps other ideas. There’s no limit. I’ll try to post more random info for people to consume, but as usual ask as many muses as you want if you want to find out more.

Cheers.

#;;Redbellion

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diningpageantry · 6 years

Text

When Are We Not Dreaming

Archive Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15747540

Word Count: 21,648

Summary: This is the tale of two lovers, existings in two worlds and meeting only in their slumber. When dawn breaks, away the sun leaves the moon to rest and sulk and await the return of his starshine. When the day trickles away, the warrior of the land returns to the darkness to only find warmth. One a war machine built to slaughter, and one a dark creature built to survive, and both exist to kill. Bloodshed shall end when lovers find paths within each other.

Simon Snow is the greatest warrior of his time and he’s sent off to slay the Bloodtaker, a demon who has been terrorizing the lands. He falls in love with him instead, and falls out of himself in the process.

TW: Suicide Attempt (Not graphic; Romeo And Juliet-esque).

Notes: Mega thanks to my betas, @ravenclawbaz @jessethejoyful @thedrag0nqueen and @wisest-girl for their efforts on this work! Also, I am not publishing the whole fic under the cut; I’m only posting the first section because it’s quite large. Also, I have art of Demon!Baz, if you’re interested in my interpretation. Anyway, enjoy!

A man steadily approaches a broad opening, fingertips dragging against the crumbling stone walls surrounding the village. They seem to deteriorate at just a glance, raising high and towering as ghosts hiding away an abandoned land, splattered with dried blood and fresh fear of a village now gone.

The bravest warrior, from water-tip to water-tip of England, Simon Snow, stares at the barren wasteland of a previous town, brain buzzing with energy, with ability, with skill to be the one man to finally defeat the Great Bloodtaker. There’s only rumors of his true form, yet when he comes to the mortal realm, he’s bursting with charm; a dark man, tall of stature, with a gentle voice, upturned lips, and a handsome face.

Soft-spoken. Ruthless.

A demon.

A demon walking the land. A demon who’s said to be akin to vampires. If he pleases, he’ll suck the life from your neck, provoked only by a broken deal. He uses favors as an exchange of currency, posing as a poor man. Only a true fool would resist the pleas of the attractive trickster, one that asks for home, for food, for care. The figure then makes deals around, promising good health for a dying man’s wife if he can provide anything of his wishes. All fall for his tricks, all being unable to provide the small things he wishes (a single red shoe, a young pheasant hunted by hand, all differing according to the victim). He sends a curse upon them, continuing to each family until the final night of bloodshed and destruction. The night he attacks.

And now stands Simon Snow, the one chosen to take down the Bloodtaker, to end his path of destruction and blood consummation of the great people of the lands. He takes in the aftermath, hand clutching the hilt of his sword while utterly unsure of what he’ll face.

But alas, as he descends into the crumbling town, he faces nothing in the empty homes and discarded shops. All but rotting food and a pet or two, left untouched and crying for help, have been emptied out. Snow lets the animals smell him. He has nothing to offer but small pieces of bread, and even that runs short too quickly.

The bodies are gone, most likely dragged off somewhere to be burnt to hide the evidence of bloodless carcasses, but it was too late. The word spread far and wide of another town culled by the cannibalistic beast.

It has been occurring far too often, and for far too long. It’s time for this to end.

It’s the time that Snow has been trained for.

With every clash of the blade, with every strike in the heart of his enemy and cry into battle, he grew stronger and more capable. With every training day, The Grand Mage tutting aside at every sloppy movement Snow makes and reminding him countlessly that he was chosen for a reason, and the reason was not to make a fool of him and his country.

He was chosen because he’s magic with a sword; his energy explodes out of him. He’s a killing machine, stronger than the largest brigade threatening the lands. Snow’s choosing was one of tradition, one passed from the previous Grand Mage--the one who found him, who built him to become what he is. Brave. An honor to look upon. The country’s unbeatable weapon.

Despite his reputation, Snow hasn’t completely proven himself without a final challenge.

His challenge is proving himself absolutely, once and for all, as the greatest warrior to come to man. The destroyer of all creatures, human or beyond.

That could be proven, of course, if the demon would step out of his shadow.

Which does not happen. At least, not within his daylight hours of searching. This prompts Snow to set up camp, laying in an abandoned bed in an abandoned house. Drinking ale until he sends his lone body spinning into a spiral of sleep, waking only in the depths of a pit of his mind.

Only his mind doesn’t exist. Purgatory only holds enough, and not one's’ mind.

Yet there stands Snow, clamored in armor and sword in hand, in a strange place with only one staircase as an exit, leading him into an unsure descent.

With nowhere else to go but down, Snow goes. Sinking into the world, into the depths, into the new land he’s unsure of. Steps taking him deeper and deeper. It’s burning hot, as if flames licked at the wall from behind the thick stone.

Hotter and hotter, into the lair of the Bloodtaker.

As Snow’s decline continues, the walls slowly compress, pressure squeezing the air out of the man’s lungs as the world reeks of fire and blood.

Then, as if someone flipped a lever, it’s clear. Open.

A long hallway to an open room, flames crackling beyond his sight.

And there, Snow finds the Bloodtaker, lounging in his seat and swirling a glass of something unknown, something dark. The creature sips it slowly, watching the gold speckled man enter his realm. His piercing eyes following his every move, like a hunter watching its prey. Yet, he doesn’t advance towards him. Not even as Snow draws his sword, hand shaking in the slightest. Snow feels… scared?

“O-O’ great Bloodtaker,” he begins, the metal of his suit clattering the slightest against itself. “I’ve come to destroy wha-what’s destroyed so much… else…” he trails, watching the great beast rise to his feet and approach Snow steadily.

Assumedly, this is his true form, which is somehow grander than what the stories have told. He seems to have some of the attributes that the tales tell, but with more embellishments; pitch black hands, razor sharp claws, pointed teeth and curling horns. He stands at possibly a foot taller than Snow, rising to his feet with impeccable grace, silken robes following in swirls as he steps forward. Pause. Another step, reaching closer and closer to the glowing man of maybe 19 years of age, face relaxed and eyes traveling over the smaller figure before him.

Snow freezes, feet moulding to the ground beneath him as he gapes up at the human-like creature. His skin is much richer in person; like he was sculpted by the gods with river clay and given gemstones for eyes.

He looks like he was built for sin.

By the way Snow reacts, he feels as though the Great Bloodtaker has casted his will onto him. The mortal’s breath catches in his throat as the creature’s hand rises and levitates above the long line of tawny neck, staying as an untouched claw under the jaw of the man.

“You’ve come to bring what upon me, exactly?” he coos, velvety voice twisting Snow’s insides. “You think you can defeat me , mortal?”

Snow’s chin lifts further, breath trying to scratch out in huffs. “Y-yes,” he manages out, eyes staring directly into the creature’s leveled gaze and sputtering out breaths as the Bloodtaker drops his hand to his side, stepping back swiftly and meeting both clawed fingers in front of him in a clasp. The creature’s mouth draws out into a smirk, watching the golden boy scramble to a fighting stance. “I’ve been sent to-to t-take your l-life…”

The Bloodtaker drags his tongue slowly against his top lip, chin tilted up as he stares down at Snow, lips tweaked into a smirk. “Oh you can’t possibly do that, can you? Not with such a simple blade?”

Snow advances in the slightest, hand trembling. He’s not quite sure he exactly can. “I can, I can, I can. ” He has to. He can’t return to his homelands without the head of the beast, but yet, his stance falters, limbs nearly giving. He’s weak to whatever curse the demon cast upon him, giving in to his gaze as the monster grins.

“Oh, but you can’t,” he breathes, stepping back forward as Snow drops his blade, leaving it to clatter against the ground. The Bloodtaker’s hand reaches forward to Snow’s face, nails subtly dragging against the underside of the human’s chin. “Why don’t you stay, oh brave warrior, and keep my lonesome self some company? I’ll feed you for your time, and you can try to defeat me tomorrow.”

Snow crumbles like the gates of the town, head shaking yes as his feet tumble forward. His eyes drift around the room for the first time, absorbing his surroundings. Although he could have sworn that it was empty except the throne, it now has a large dining table, filled to the brim with various foods and drinks, causing Snow’s stomach to growl at the sight.

He drags himself there, immediately beginning to stuff his mouth with whatever he can get his hands on. It dawns on him, half a turkey leg down his throat, that the creature could have easily poisoned his food in attempts to kill him. It’d be so simple, and there he sits, across the long end of the table as he swirls his wineglass slowly, eyeing him carefully through long sips.

Yet Snow doesn’t stop. After all, he’s eaten enough for two regular meals anyway, and he’s going on his third, ravenously hungry from his travels, both alive and in his current realm. As he exists, he’s starved. He stuffs himself further until he can barely manage another bite, food smeared across his face and dripping off his chin as he chugs down ale and clean water , eyes closing and hands trembling as he gulps.

And the beast just stays, eyes locked on the mortal’s face.

One would expect the beast to attack, as he’s fattening up the merely muscle and bone fighter, but instead he admires. He stays, watching his curls bob too and fro and catching the eyes of the man on occasion, giving him a long, satisfied stare. Even as he finishes eating, raising to his feet with a gentle grunt, the creature gives him a once over. “You are free to stay, Great Warrior,” the demon offers, gesturing over his lair.

“It’s Snow,” he states clear as day, eyes flicking over the creature. “Simon Snow, The Mage of Warriors.”

A curt snort comes from the demon, swirling his blood-thick drink. “As if you hold any power above me,” he purrs, licking his lips once again before waving a hand to himself. “Pitch. Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch is the name my human form takes upon.”

Snow, with raising brows, watches him with curiosity. “Such a bold name for one to pose as a beggar, no?”

“Such a bold question to ask a creature that could kill you so quickly.”

“I don’t believe you’ll kill me after you’ve fed me.”

The creature, or so as he calls himself Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch, sneers at the mere mortal before sipping from his glass. “I like to play with my food.”

Snow shifts his weight again, this time in the slightest. Food . “Do the words have any significance?” he queries, stepping over to the throne and sprawling himself over the grand chair.

Bold and idiotic, this brave man, and why the creature hasn’t killed him yet is the mystery for the ages.

As he sits, untouched by the darkest creature of the land as he disrespects his power, he continues to challenge him, to question him, to dig deeper into the mind of the being.

“My name?” Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch mocks. “I… it quite fits me. I’m quite handsome, and a handsome face requires a handsome name?”

“Such as Basilton?”

“ Yes .”

Snow smiles in the slightest. “I quite like that part. Basilton .” He draws it out, head resting back against the cushioned side. “Basil? Bazzz?”

“Baz is quite a crude bastardization of the name...”

“Exactly,” Snow grins. “ Baz . A tad whimsical.”

“I don’t think I agree that it would be fitting.”

“I believe so.”

Baz cocks a brow, sipping his wine (thickened to look like blood for the dramatics) and rolling his eyes for the effect. “You dare taunt a demon?”

“I dare taunt a demon who won’t kill me.”

“I see why you have no further title than Mage of Warriors.”

Snow throws a mean look, but it doesn’t stick.

“Alas, The Warrior is speechless.”

The golden man watches him and slowly spreads across the chair even further, making a point of the demon’s (frankly inexplicable) lack of punishment for disrespect. Baz remains in his seat adjacent to Snow’s, though, enjoying the mortal for all he’s worth, for he’s never had a moment to truly enjoy something so beautiful in his long lifetime, and he’s not quite sure he’ll be able to again.

Fate is so sick and twisted, even for the darkest of creatures. To live without a love, to exist without simple joys is a robbery of a life at all. So, it should be drunk in; sipped slowly and with caution, but finished to fill. To live a short life, one full of true existence is preferable to a never-ending life without such care.

A life known by the striking soldier with rich honeycomb skin, speckled like a hen’s egg and bronze licks of hair curling at every odd and end. He’s a sight to drink in, a sight that Baz doesn’t quite want to take in steadily, but instead he wishes to have him all to himself for now, and for the rest of time.

Such fate isn’t one that would be so kindly graced upon a killer like himself, but wishes can be dreams and dreams can be wishes.

And thus stands their bickering interactions, a back and forth of questions, such as Snow asking why he chose such a lair as his and Baz simply answers “It doesn’t beg the question whether or not he’s genuinely dark”, which was satisfying enough for the mortal, but not enough, as he asks further questions of how he came to be a demon, why he attacks such villages, and whether or not he takes the effort to make his hair fall in a careful way. The personal grooming questions were a tad odd, but somewhat reasonable, given the humanoid’s attention to detail in his appearance. All questions are ones that other creatures would slash the throat of the man after he dares speak, but Baz simply listens, giving snarky answers and snide comments, all the while a small smile trying to push through his cheeks. He takes notice as Snow starts to yawn, struggling to keep a conversation while his eyes grow heavy.

“Tomorrow, then,” he says, eyes drifting up to meet Baz’s. “Tomorrow, I’ll kill you.”

“Tomorrow it is.”

Tomorrow it is. It echoes through Snow’s brain as he rattles awake, laying among the sheets of an abandoned bed in the emptied town.

read the rest on archive!

#carry on #snowbaz #simon snow #tyrannus basilton grimm-pitch #tyrannus basilton grimm pitch #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #demon!baz #demon au #medieval au #mine #baz #simon #baz pitch

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itstoastytodd-blog · 6 years

Text

COLD HANDS| Prologue | Jason Todd x Fem!Reader [Soulmate AU]

A/N: Phew, we made it. Ladies and gents, i present to you the first chapter of my Jason Todd soulmate au, that I had no idea what to name so here we are. Eh, pretty sure the name will start making sense somewhere along the road (I hope). Also like I get very intense at some point but it just make people squint and laugh so, I’m sorry in advance because I tried, I really did.

word count: 1943

Warning: Mentions of parents splitting up, depression, nerve damage.

Synopsis: Jason Todd isn’t bad at love. He just doesn’t know what it’s like. [Y/N] [L/N] has spent her entire life hoping that soul marks mean forever after. A journey to discovering love, pain, each other and themselves.

The first time Jason sees her, it’s in the middle of snowfall.

Gotham rests underneath a thick blanket of of white, cold and unforgiving, and the trees are sunken to their shins in snow. The streets are unsurprisingly empty, save for a brave few who struggle to trudge their way through the snow while the rest find shelter in the numerous shops that litter the barren streets, offering warmth that seems too unsettling to be welcoming.

Jason watches from a corner on the sidewalks as the snow falls softly onto the ground, masking itself into the layers already collected. The occasional car passes by, headlights disappearing into the fading darkness slowly as it passes, and Jason can’t help but think that it’s too silent for a Gotham night. But he pushes the though aside as he struggles to keep his hands warm inside the pockets of his sweater as he leans by a wall waiting for Dick.

That’s when he sees her across the street standing underneath a lamplight.

The light overhead hits the high points of her face as she looks sideways, black hair sprawling across her shoulders from underneath a bright red beanie, tan skin flushed gently pink by the cold. The tip of her nose stands out, a darker pink than her rosy cheeks. And as unbelievably cliche as it sounds, Jason knows that years later, when he thinks his life through, he’ll think that this was the moment he fell in love with her.

His phone vibrates against his hands inside the pocket of his sweater and he looks away, momentarily distracted. It keeps buzzing as he struggles to clam the slight shiver of his fingertips as he retrieves his phone, pausing slightly to huff a breath. And when he looks back at the lamplight as he presses his phone to his ear, she’s gone. He thinks that he sees a flash of bright red against the snow from the corner of his eye, but he doesn’t turn his head to follow the movement, and faintly registers Roy’s voice inside his ear, calling his name.

It comes as a surprise to almost everyone who knows him, but Jason doesn’t like winter.

It’s cold and damp and heavy, and unnecessarily slippery. The cold just makes his job a lot harder than it actually has to be, and his only job is to get things done. The cold hinders him from doing just that. At least that’s what he tells everyone.

But the winter brings back memories that Jason wishes would have been buried with him. And they weigh him down and hold him back more than the slippery floors as he jumps across the roofs, and they flash in front of his eyes and sear their way through his brain and every time he finds himself reaching out to grab onto them, hoping that it would ease the pain.

It never does. It’s always there, subdued most of the time to a dull throb in the back of his throat, an ache in his bones that he thinks he can pass off as exhaustion. And most times, Jason doesn’t know if the pain is from struggling to keep his thoughts at bay or if it’s from the changing temperature that puts pressure on the persistent nerve damage, but it still hurts, and there is this certain heaviness in the way he walks. Jason knows the others see it too, but he’s glad they refrain from making comments.

He knows that his dislike for winter stems way back to when he was still a street kid, because back then it just meant that the streets were colder and the people were hungrier. He remembers latching onto the ground floor windows of the houses in downtown gotham. He remembers staring at the blinking lights that adorn the christmas trees until his eves sting. He remembers feeling like a child straight out of a Dickens’ novel (not that he knew it then), peering through the huge windows, looking at what he couldn’t have.

Which is why he finds himself in Crime Alley, just hours before dawn breaks, unlatching the hood and settling down next to a little girl. He holds a loaf of bread and a can of soup in front of her and watches as she hesitates momentarily before reaching out and grabbing the food from his outstretched hand. The way that she tears into the loaf reminds him of himself, but truth to be told, he sees himself in every orphan in crime alley. So he sits patiently by her side in the snow as a few more gather around, and he hands them more bread and soup from the sack that lies on the ground beside him.

“Sorry the soup’s cold,” he finds himself saying, and he waits as the children look up at him, incredulous almost, with a look in their eyes that’s disbelieving, grateful and ashamed all at the same time. And Jason recognises all of them. But then they look away, not saying anything at all. He still understands what they mean.

He stays a couple minutes more until his nose starts turning pink, numb from the harsh bite of the cold. Jason distinctly feels the domino mask cling tighter to his face and he knows that it’s going to a pain in the butt to take off later. He also knows, the sooner he gets off the floor the better, be he can’t bring himself to leave now, and he finds his fingers curling into the crisp white snow, tinted gently grey, almost as it he’s trying to find the street rat Jason Todd buried underneath the heaps of snow and dirt.

He lifts himself off the ground then, giving the children one last look as he puts his helmet back on, and walks out of the alley. The children don’t stop him. They never do, but still, he can feel their eyes on the back of his head as he turns the corner and out of their sight.

He realises, as he limps back to his apartment, that when the kids see him the following morning, sans the hood and the mask, they’ll run up to him and tell him all about Mister Red Hood and his bread and cold soup, and he tries to stop the happiness that blooms in his chest. He cannot.

To [Y/N] [L/N], life has always been simple. Painful, but simple. And it shows in the way she holds herself.

Her parents sit across from her, at a safe distance away from each other, but she’d rather focus on anything else than the way they’re looking at her right now; like she’s fragile, like she’s going to break if they do the wrong thing or say the wrong thing.

The clock ticks on the wall behind her, and once she gets a hold of the beat, she can’t let go, so she finds herself bouncing her thigh up and down to the rhythm. And she knows that her mother is watching her through those big glasses that sit slightly askew on the tip of her nose, but if her mother thinks anything of her nervous habit, she doesn’t do anything to point it out.

She’ll think later, when she’s in bed at night, pondering her whole life and guessing where it all went wrong, that this should’ve been the first clue.

“We’ve decided that we should see other people.”

She expects her own reaction to that statement to be explosive. She expects screaming and yelling and throwing things across the floor and storming out of her own apartment, but none of it ever comes. Instead the dread seeps into her toes and tickles the bottom of her spine, but otherwise stays at bay as she slowly lifts her head to meet eyes with the first man that broke her heart. Because she knew this was coming. She’s known for the past eight years.

In the back of her mind she registers both of her parents staring intently at her, expecting something, anything other than the nothing that she’s giving then right now, but instead, she just nods her head, pretending that she understands, when really she just wants to yell at them to look at each other’s names scrawled on their bodies, to open their eyes and look at what they’re throwing away.

But she also knows that this has been a long time coming. And despite the way her heart clenches in her chest, she can’t bring herself to do anything.

“You can’t force love,” she remembers he mother telling her, “sometimes love runs out and you’re left with memories of what it used to feel like.”

And she remembers asking her mother when you know that it’s ended, and she remembers the pause, and the heaviness in her mother’s voice still weighs down on her till this day.

So she just nods and stares back down at her plate and hopes to whichever god is up there that she doesn’t cry. She will not cry. Not now, after all these years that she’s spent crying herself to sleep, not after she’s spent her whole life blaming herself that her parents are not in love anymore.

Somewhere in a memory inside her mind, her mother’s voice rings out in her head, and she remembers it being soft and strained and laced with something akin to guilt, but tonight it’s crisp and clear and holds all the answers she’s been seeking for so long.

You know when you feel more in love with your memories than the person standing in front of you.

Days later when the conversations of that night have faded to dull whispers in her ears, blocked out by the sound of the grinding and whirring of the coffee machine, she lets her mind wander again.

Her therapist has told her many times, every time, actually, that if the mind is a clear blue sky, it’s always there. Even when it’s shrouded in inky black and dark clouds denser that she can comprehend and even even it feels like the storm is brewing in the back of her head and threatens to flood her senses. Trying to block out the storm only makes it worse, but never means that it’s not there, that it’s not happening.

And she knows that she should probably stop trying to compare her thoughts to catastrophes but they’re so destructive in her head that she can’t think of anything else.

It reminds her of a car crash. She doesn’t know what it is but it does, in the way that she remembers every detail before and after the crash but not the actual event save for the way her skin still feels the lingering touch the flames. It stings, hissing and angry against her body.

She can’t remember the last time she didn’t feel like she was crashing.

The cold helps with that. It numbs and it heals and soothes in ways that she doesn’t think anyone else understands.

Which is exactly why when everyone else finds home in the shops that litter the streets, warm lights blazing heat upon the frozen roads of Gotham city, she stands underneath a lamplight waiting to feel the sting disappear. Waiting until the flames that lick at surface have died out into nothing at the bottom of her feet.

And when it does, she walks away from the lamplight, unaware of blue eyes that try to find her in the snow later.

On the way home, she ignores the way the name underneath her collarbone itches.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #red hood x reader #red hood #jason todd #batboys fanfiction #batboys imagine #batfam imagine #batfam #i need a jason todd #this is 2000 words jfc #jason todd angst #batboys writings #mentions of #nightwing #dick grayson #roy harper #kinda angsty #also like jason and kids

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darlingpetao3 · 6 years

Text

For Asgard (Chapter 27/?)

Summary: What if Odin had banished Loki to Earth instead of Thor? The story of how you, the Reader, meet and help Loki on his quest to return to Asgard.

One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Fifteen Sixteen Seventeen Eighteen Nineteen Twenty Twenty-One Twenty-Two Twenty-Three Twenty-Four Twenty-Five Twenty-Six

A/N: I’m sorry for this...

The sun here is eclipsing.

It's so dark, you almost believe you're still mentally out of it. So dark, you need to rest your eyes for a little while longer. The Aether continues to drain all your strength, but that doesn't mean your ears don't still work. You hear a voice, Loki's.

“If it were not necessary to exchange the Aether for Lorelei, what I could do by harnessing the power that flows through my darling's veins...”

“It would consume you, like it is her,” Thor warns, sounding irked.

“She is holding up far better than I had expected when she told me,” Loki continues.

“For now,” Amora scoffs.

“(Y/N) is strong in ways you will never know.” Loki's voice drips with poisonous tones.

“Enough, Amora,” says Thor, “Loki is right. She fought bravely in the battle of New York.”

“Alright, fine,” she concedes with a flip of her flowing blonde hair.

“Thank you, brother.”

“That does not mean I trust you, Loki. I wish I could trust you.”

Loki mutters something to himself that you can't quite hear. A moment later, he tries to wake you gently. “(Y/N)...” Your eyes flutter open, pretending you're only now waking. Off on the horizon, a monumental Dark Elf vessel floats down from the thick, grey clouds. It calls out to you...

“Malekith...”

You can sense it.

Team Aether, as you sort of want to call your group, hikes up the ridge of a steep and rocky hill, staying low to avoid any unwanted attention just yet.

Malekith and his freakish crew make the first move, heading out to an open space down below on the plateau. You recognize the creature beside him that had slain Frigga. The bastard. They appear to have a woman with them and you can tell from up here her hair is gorgeously red and is as ridiculously beautiful as Amora.

“Are we going or what?” asks Amora impatiently. “That right there is my sister and I would like to have her back so I can deal with her myself!”

“Amora, I see you are still restless when it comes to stealth tactics,” Thor remarks. “But, yes, rest easy. Now is the time to advance.”

“You know this plan of yours is going to get us killed,” Loki mentions.

“Yes, possibly,” Thor agrees.

“But I'm sure that's nothing new, right?” you add, trying to joke. Thor gives you a worried tight-lipped smile.

“Ahem...” Loki gestures for his handcuffs to be removed. “You still don't trust me, brother?”

“Would you?” Thor says defensively. Trust is not a well-used feature among your team, seeing as you were a rivalrous team. Thor doesn't trust Loki and seems to have some animosity towards Amora. And you don't trust Amora as far as you could throw her...

“No. I would not.” As quick as lightning, Loki stabs a hidden dagger into Thor's side and the God of Thunder tumbles down the hill as his traitor brother runs down after him.

What the f-?!

“No!” Amora cries. “Loki, what have you done?”

Your legs carry you as fast as you're able, wobbling down the crumbling hill after the trio of totally insane Asgardians.

“You really think I cared about Frigga?” Loki snarls at his brother. “About you or the Enchantress sisters? Any of you?” He brutally kicks Thor in the head while and carries on with his rant. “All I ever wanted was you and Odin dead at my feet!” It feels like you're having flashbacks as his rage comes out front and centre. Thor calls for his hammer but Loki cuts off his hand with his blade.

“THOR!” Amora cries out.

“LOKI!” You do the same. Thor clutches his missing hand with a roar as Amora runs to shield him from further harm. You grab Loki's arm to stop him from another attack, but he twists you around so you're facing Malekith. Loki whispers in your ear, “I love you. Please trust me.”

This wasn't real, then. You knew it had to be a ruse, but something about his whole performance is so believable, you couldn't help but buy it.

“Malekith! I am Loki of Jotunheim and I bring you a gift!” Loki shoves you hard to the ground. You look up to find the half-burned face of the monstrous Dark Elf himself.

“What of this woman prisoner?” he asks.

“Keep her for all I care. Retrieve the Aether from this girl and I ask only one thing in return: A good seat from which to watch Asgard burn.” “Wow, thanks, L. Nice to see you again, too.” The red-headed Lorelei pipes up from behind Malekith, bringing her pretty little head into view. “Leave me hanging like that? I see how it is.”

Malekith consults with his scary beast-friend that killed Frigga in a strange language, then directs his horrid attention to you. He raises a hand, and as you flinch, you start to float in the air, arms open wide, your Asgardian dress flowing in the winds that are picking up rapidly.

Something in you is lessening. You're feeling lighter, both physically and mentally. It's a miracle. You watch the dark red particle fluid pour out from your body. Once it's all out, thank the gods, you fall to the pebbly ground.

“Loki, now!” Thor shouts. His hand magically grows back. An illusion, of course! Mjolnir flies obediently to him and Loki runs to you, throwing himself over you as a human shield. Meanwhile, Thor and Amora use their combined powers to shoot at the vulnerable Aether still floating around in the air. There's an explosion of red, dust, and pieces of rock. It's completely destroyed, right?

Wrong.

The particles become even more of an unstoppable force, all coming together and propel themselves into Malekith! He looks a considerably darker now and evilly content with what has happened to him. The villain makes a gesture for his followers to regroup and leave, but Thor obviously has other plans for him.

However, Malekith's right-hand man detonates an otherworldly grenade directed at you to throw him off his attack. But Loki sees this and is first to shove you out of the way. It explodes into a black hole and starts to pull him in, and you think it's the end, this can't be the end! Luckily, Thor flies into him and saves him from peril just in time.

Now the brothers are furious.

Amora battles with the lowly Elves holding Lorelei back, while Thor finally takes his anger out on the beast that killed his mother. A large group of Elves have Loki surrounded and you're still on the ground, but start feeling your natural energy returning. It's so refreshing to have that wretched power out of you.

Loki stabs the shit out of the Elves like he was born for this very task and sees in his periphery that Thor is in deep trouble with his own assailant. Loki rushes to stab the beast up through the back.

Vengeance truly was his. Until-

It takes hold of Loki and stabs him in the heart!

Clear as day, you see the blade pierce through him and that's when your heart seems to stop working. Loki's eyes are wide with shock, as are yours with dread. Thor yells, but yours is the one that rings out far louder than the god's. The beast discards Loki to the ground as he now has no use for him. Although Loki is not quite done with his adversary.

“See you in Hel, monster.”

He had stealthily strapped a bomb to the monster, which explodes and sucks it into a momentary black hole. It vanishes from this world.

Loki shudders on the ground. You run to him tripping, stumbling, and heaving heavy sobs. You can't breathe. You can't breathe.

“No. No. Loki, NO!” With both hands, you cup his face which is quickly turning grey-ish blue with death. “Please, no. It’s alright, Loki. You’re going to be okay.”

He takes your hand in his, looks deep into your eyes, and in a failing voice says, “I am okay.”

“Loki, why couldn't you just stay away?” you sob into his chest.

“I know. I'm sorry. I'm a fool. I'm a f-fool.”

“Stay with me, goddammit!” you yell.

“I'm sorry. I'm sorry,” he keeps repeating.

“Shhhh, don't.” Peace is slowly fading onto his face. Thor slowly and quietly has approached the scene. He speaks up.

“I will tell Father what you did here today.”

“I didn't do it for him.” Loki looks to Thor and then to you. The light from his eyes leaves him the very moment he says these words. Thor hollers to the sky and Amora embraces him to keep him calm while Lorelei has a grasp on his arm, which she pets.

You cry into Loki's chest, refusing to let go. A storm is headed your way, but you don't care.

Let it.

You don't know how much time passes, but eventually, though, Thor has to pull you off of Loki's lifeless body even with you screaming for him to let go of you. He carries you all the way back to the ship that brought you here.

“Listen to me carefully, (Y/N),” he tells you. “You must escort Lorelei back to Asgard. Amora and I will stop Malekith before he destroys the worlds.”

“But-”

“You must,” he insists. “Loki was right when he said you are strong in ways we will never know. Do this for Asgard and you will be rewarded.” You finally nod in agreement and realize you have helpful information for your friend.

“Thor. Find Jane. Jane Foster. If you find her you'll find Erik Selvig, and if anyone can stop something like this, it's him. It's them.”

Thor nods. He rests a hand on your shoulder for comfort, but you bring him in for a hug. You're pretty sure the Enchantress sisters make noises in the background. You part ways, ushering Lorelei to the ship for your journey back to the palace.

You're still in shock, which proves a quiet return. Quiet for you, anyway. Lorelei fills the silence with mindless chatter. You're still not mentally able to be present in the conversation. Although, you are able to register an eagle circling above. You didn't think anything could live in this world's environment. Maybe it's lost? Nevertheless, it follows you all the way home.

Home?

Part 28

Tag List: @gerardwayisapotato @theloneavenger1995 @magellan-88 @saraholdtheh972 @ha-tep @white-chocolate-mocha-fan @jemjem-chan @sagekoooon

#reader insert #loki x reader #Loki Laufeyson x Reader #loki imagine #loki fanfiction #marvel imagine #marvel fanfiction

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ewutai · 7 years

Note

32 w taeyong please hehehe

What you don’t see| TAEYONG

prompt: “Keep your eyes on me”

genre: magician!au | sort of detective!reader | completely fluff & bit mysterious

pairing: Lee Taeyong / Reader

word count: 1 700

a/n: ahhhh i don’t know how good it is not even if it is good at all. Also there may be some grammatical faults, so I apologize in advance. Nevertheless, I hope you like it!

ask + drabble list + recommended listening

As expected, it was a shed. Allyou heard inside the Police Department was indeedhappening: seaport, hangar, cargo truck – and in your point of view, it was adisaster. You and your partner were both waiting for something to happen;someone to appear, a bomb to explode or actually any movement, anywhere around.

“They’re coming.” An impatientand nervous voice echoed; you sighed.

“They’re not, because they are not stupid.” You shrugged. “We are.”

The man by your side gazed youand closed his eyes in annoyance. His body was tense; he kept shaking his legsand tapping his fingers onto the steering wheel. You wondered how he became adetective if he could not control his own emotions.

He looked at you; an expressionyou weren’t able to understand. “In whose side are you, anyway?”

You snorted. “I have no sides,mate.” Your fingers englobed the car’s door knob and you opened it withouthesitating. “If you are the kind of cop who just sit and wait, then you shouldbuy some donuts. I am in.”

He scoffed. “You are not a captain,princess.”

You smirked. “Does it stop mefrom taking the right move?”

The other officer only watched,with disbelief, while you slowly reached the enormous gate of the storagebuilding. You seemed small and fragile and he even thought of following you,but the man knew – very deep inside his mind – that you were too much brave tobe scared so easily. You touched the metal and with all strength you had youpushed it, making the door open.

It was dark and you felt likediving into a black hole; as soon as you entered the shed, the gate closedbehind you, somehow being locked. There was no one else but you close to the metaldoor, even so it shut. Your heart started pounding faster and faster and youknew this was the drop of fear growing inside you. They managed to take you offof your comfort zone, how clever. Thedark, the excruciating ambient, the smell of dust and saltwater fish made yousweat and nauseous. They’re smarter then you thought.

However, you expected all of it.All Police Departments of the district moved their forces to capture these thieves, and you knew it wasn’t just thieves. They’re all criminals, intelligent and well-instructedcriminals. You noticed, when you first held the portfolio with the robberyinformation, that these people were the modern Robbin Hood; the profile wasbasic, easy to discern from any other small bandit and even a young cop likeyou could understand perfectly their intentions. The mystery, though, was the patternof their actions. Their acts seemed random and avulse, involving magic tricksand distractions in public spaces, not even forming any sort of line orunderstanding. It was totally irregular from one presentation to another and,in the end the only match between those spectacles was the Grand Finale.

So it was obvious they’d not movewithout contemplating all options.They were astute, you knew. They’d always be one step ahead, you admitted. And you already expected all of it.

Your thoughts were cut off with alight passing through your vision, causing your eyes to excessively blink. Ittook seconds for you to recover from the blur that arise on your eyesight, andlittle less time to feel the emptiness on your hand.

“What the hec–”

“Are you looking for these,Detective?” You turned your body to find the speaker, but they’re nowhere to beseen. “Over here.” Instinctively you followed the sound of the voice and founda boy sitting on top of the rail, upstairs. You narrowed your eyes; he washolding your gun and your flashlight –but it was almost impossible, considering the distance between you two and thetime he’d take to climb up the stairs.

You grinned. “The light.” Youtouched the back of your neck and laughed; you did not see, as you were toofocused on your thoughts, but the boy smiled back at you.

“You are intelligent, Detective.”He said and opened his arms. “All about distracting you with lights.” Thepastel pink haired boy threw himself of from where he was, but he did not fall.Actually he appeared ten feet away from you. “Here.” He handed you the gun. “I’llkeep the light, because it’s” he turned his body in 360 degrees and then facedyou again “dark.”

You had your mouth open. “Unbelievable.”

“Hum, actually it’s pure illusion.” Heshrugged his shoulders. “But I guess you already knew that.” The boy smiled.

Lazily you came back to yoursenses and raised the gun directly to his face. “I’d say you are not as good asyour friends.”

He laughed; the sound completelyvelvety and addicting. “I’ll count!” He threw the lantern up. “One,” the boysmiled at you “two,” he looked up to see the object coming to his direction “andthree!” He ran to you and you panicked; the feeling of losing control leadingyou to shoot. But the bullet didn’t reach him.

You smirked when you saw theflashlight perfectly positioned on the ground, with all the pieces in the rightplace, and in the tip of your gun a small flag written ‘got ya!’ It wasannoying, because you underestimate that boy’s talent of entertainment.

“Surprise.” He whispered behindyou. “Now, another one for you, Detective.” The boy hugged you from behind; in vain youtried to escape, like all you’ve learned for combat was useless in that situation.He lifted you up and spun your bodies; you felt dizzy, your sensibilitydispersing within the cold air that gently touched your skin. You closed youreyes, trying to control yourself from disgorging.

“Stop!” You yelled; your eyesstill closed.

At that point you didn’t feelanything else but anxiousness. You wondered what would come next; would he justkill you? Would he just disappear?The sentiment of defeat was crystal clear, you rendered yourself in the momentyou entered the hangar.

“Fuck.” You finally had thecourage to look around again. Strangely, the space was filled with light andyou could easily see every corner of it. You saw two or three motorboat,fishing equipment and some sailcloth. You were completely insane, that’s it. No possible reason could explain what justhappened to you if not you being completelyout of your mind. As a plus, the boy just vanished, which meant you wereimagining it all. He was never there; were you somehow dopey?

You crossed your arms, and onlythen you realized you had more clothes on than before. A green aviator jacketsurrounded your torso and your arms; it smelled like cinnamon and was oddlycomfortable. Also, you noticed that the wind stopped blowing and there were nomore cool breeze hitting your cheeks.

“Are you startled, detective?” Thevoice inundated your ears.

You sighed. “This is gettingexhausting.” You took off the jacket and threw it on the ground.

“Hey!” Suddenly the pink hairedboy appeared; his voice tone was grave, but his expression was soft. “This isexpensive.”

“I bet you stole.” You scoff,almost whispering the comment.

He laughed. “Not all we do isstealing, Detective.”

“Ah, I bet.”

The boy tilted his head. “We makemagic too.” He smiled. “Keep your eyes on me.” He clapped his hands and you,all of sudden, couldn’t move.

It was not because you wanted to stay where you were, but onspur of moment the sound of his palms clashing with one another made youfreeze. You felt hypnotized and peculiarly relaxed; your mind went blank andall you could see was the boy in front of you. He was the only thing for you inthat exact moment – and, oh, how you felt disturbed.

He blinked. “You’re tired.” Hisvoice was melodic. “You’re really, really tired.” And your body seemed to beheavier. “You’re going to sleep now.” His hands touched your eyelids and hekindly closed your eyes.

“Your name. I want you name.” Youmanaged to say; he laughed, amused. But before the boy could answer you,everything went silent and you simply fell asleep.

A loud sound woke you up. It wasa strong and constant knock on the colossal metal door; you didn’t stand up,though. All you felt was fatigue and the last thing you wanted was listening toyour partner’s complaints, because clearly it was him knocking.

You stared at the ceiling, wondering how youlet things get to the point they were. That was the moment when you noticed ared balloon floating in the air; then another one appeared – this time it’s ayellow one – and at sudden lots and lots of colored balloons emerged, moreoveryou could not tell where those things came from.

You abruptly jumped and stood upon your feet; looking around you saw it wasn’t a shed anymore. The space was filled with tiny plastic balls,simulating a huge ball pool. You slapped your forehead, as an act of rebuke.Thereupon, in your palm you sensed the texture of a paper; you had a post-it stuck on your face.

Soo, you took if off of your headand admired the note with a clumsy handwriting. Instead of feeling angry youwere relieved. You ran your eyes overthe paper, trying to connect every letter and form phrases. In the end you read

If you’re awake, someone knocked. Sorry, Detective, you’re beautifulbut I have to follow some rules.

When someone tells you to ‘keep your eyes on them’don’t listen. And by the way, my name will be ourlittle secret. Won’t it, gorgeous?

It wasn’t obvious, but also wasn’ttoo much hidden. For you it was easy to decipher, and then you pondered if thatthe boy could be that reckless. He gave you his name and it was all you neededto progress with the investigation, but you knew – and also did him – that it’d bekept as a secret. He wasn’t careless; he knew how to play games. And it’s yourtime to move.

You laughed. “Lee Taeyong, huh?”

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