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anyoneseenadam · 3 years

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The Moon Spirit - three

Dorian x reader, Fenrys x reader (throne of glass)

Description: When you’re taught to be a queen from such a young age, nothing could go wrong. But when the king starts to fear your growing power you find yourself thrust into a world of faeries, evil magic and powerful men, learning to stand on your own can be harder than it seems.

warnings: Fenrys being cute, badass reader but like a shit ton of angst, allusions to sexual assualt (Fenrys canon stuff), mentions of weapons? idk if that counts

word count: 4.4k

a/n: so this took a while but it’s finally done, please comment it genuienly keeps me going cause it’s super easy to get unmotivated, hope you enjoy <3

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After he left you, Fenrys begrudgingly found himself back at the palace, bowed on one knee in front of Maeve. She looked cruelly beautiful as always but there was something more sinister sparkling in her eyes today, remaining quiet as he stood back to his full height, meeting her gaze with wavering confidence.

“Who have you been with?” she finally broke the silence and he cursed himself for thinking he could ever get away with that.

“I just walked a young girl home, she was new, and I was afraid someone may take advantage of her if she was alone,” he spoke truthfully, allowing Maeve to push into his mind as she searched for a hidden lie.

He watched as she drew in a sharp breath, something like fear flickering across her face before her tightly drawn lips spread into a wide smile.

“Come here,” she commanded, and he went to stand in front of her, close enough to smell her sickening perfume and to see the flawless texture of her skin. “Do you love this girl?”

He shook his head, no, and she ran a hand down his face in a motherlike way. “Good, you will be recruiting her.” His eyes widened and he had to put his energy into not flinching away.

“What?” he spoke with an incredulous tone and Maeve glared at his lack of respect making him bow his head. “Sorry your majesty, I’m just slightly confused. She was just a young girl and didn’t seem to have any former training.”

“And that’s why I’m in charge, you men are too foolish. That was a powerful girl, and I would rather she remained on my side than any other.” He frowned, powerful? She had seemed kind, lost and strong enough to hold her own – but not powerful.

“I need you to see her again, convince her to join.” Fenrys physically felt the command go through him and he stood taller again, nodding gruffly as she waved her hand in dismissal.

Your first few days of work had been harder than expected, and you had gone home with aching muscles from lifting books and sore cheeks from plastering on smiles. Albert had made your days easier, drinking hot tea with you as you slowly revealed more and more about your past to him, his kind, old eyes lulling you into a comforting state.

But you didn’t receive rest when you got home. Ploughing through books on spirits and practicing using the limited magic you had found until the early hours of the morning, getting barely two hours of sleep a night unplagued by nightmares. By your fifth day Albert had handed you a pot of cosmetic product to hide the circles forming, commenting on scaring the customers away as you stuck your tongue out at him but smearing some on regardless.

On the second Saturday after your arrival you had a day off and used it to venture into the market, your empty shelves no longer sustaining you, let alone Amaris. Your basket soon filled with colourful fruits and vegetables, and you were browsing the fish section when a shadow fell over you.

“Let me take that for you,” you turned to see Fenrys standing over you with that same easy smile, his head tilted slightly. You rolled your eyes, trying to block out the feelings expanding in your chest at just the sight of him.

“And here I thought I had lost you,” you muttered, and he laughed, taking your basket from you, and paying for the wrapped salmon you had just been passed. “You don’t need to do stuff like that,” you told him, and he took your arm as he led you out of the market.

“Can’t help myself, I see a pretty girl in need and boom, I have to help.” He joked and you laughed lightly.

“Oh yeah, the damsel in distress disease, I’ve heard that’s a nasty one to cure,” he smiled down at you with a sparkle in his eyes.

“Not really, all I need is a kiss,” he tugged you closer and you squealed, shoving him away as he laughed.

“As I said, nasty.” He dramatically put a hand to his heart, throwing his head back in distress.

“You wound me darling,” he complained, and you laughed, hating how much you genuinely enjoyed his company. You reached your apartment in no time, and he stood at the bottom of the steps leading up to your door.

“So no invitation of tea, a glass of wine, a home cooked meal?” he asked, and you rolled your eyes,

“I’m afraid I reserve that for people I like,” he raised his eyebrows, hopping up the steps two at a time.

“Even if I have genuine cause to talk to you?” he asked and the sincerity in his eyes made a shot of fear run through you. He couldn’t know, could he?

“What is it?” you asked, and he smiled softly, a little pain shining through his loving eyes.

“The queen has a proposition to make.” His voice quietened and you straightened your posture, your entire demeanour switching in a second.

“Come in.” you opened the door and stepped in, allowing him to duck as he followed.

The first thing he noticed was how barren your apartment was, a simple kitchen, connected to a room with a pale blue sofa and worn coffee table. Your shelves were bare, and he sneaked a look into your room as he passed the open door, your mattress on the floor covered by only a thin blanket and a few cushions, one incredibly expensive looking gold dress on the floor, stained dark red. But before he could venture further in he heard you cooing in an impossibly soft voice.

He turned the corner and blanched at the sight he saw, “What the?”

You turned from were you were feeding small bits of salmon to a pure white bundle of fluff that hissed as soon as it saw him. “Amaris, be polite!” you scalded, and he surveyed the cat with a wary look, untrusting of the small creature.

“You have a cat.” He stated, suddenly completely unsure of his taste in women.

“No he’s actually a spider,” you deadpanned and Fenrys pouted.

“But I thought you’d be a dog person,” he complained, and you laughed, moving to throw open the curtains in the room before you started putting away the food you had bought, boiling a pot of water over your stove.

“I just like animals, why does it matter?” you asked, and he threw his arms up before transforming into his wolf form. You gasped and Amaris meowed loudly, scampering to hide behind your legs.

“You’re a wolf.” You stated and he turned back with a smile.

“No I’m a spider,” you flipped him off as you turned to put the rest of your food away.

“I prefer you as a wolf, they’re one of my favourite animals,” you told him and he smiled, sticking his tongue out childishly at Amaris who just sauntered of to doze on a pillow.

“So, what does the queen want?” you asked, pouring the hot water into a pot you had prepared, and he sat down on your worn-down sofa, cringing as it creaked under his weight. You followed suit soon after putting the pot and two mugs down, curling your feet underneath yourself as you looked at him.

“Well, she has told me that you’re actually extremely powerful and because of this she wants to recruit you. She wants you to join the Cadre.” He spoke surely and confidently but his eyes shone with wariness.

“Okay first of all, I’m not at all powerful, secondly how would she even know if I was, which I’m not! And third, what is The Cadre?” he laughed slightly and moved forward to pour himself a cup of tea.

“Well you clearly are because she recognised you and always knows these things, trust me. She’s never wrong about this. And The Cadre is a group I’m in, elite soldiers sworn to protect Maeve.” He explained and you shook your head.

“Fenrys I barely know basic self-defence, I’m not a soldier. And I don’t want to be sworn to royalty.” Your hands were shaking slightly at the thought of being sworn to another tyrant, “Plus in all honesty I only found out I was Fae on Monday, so I’m not exactly well versed in this shit.”

“How did you not know before?” he asked – frowning.

“The country I… come from, there was no magic. The king wiped all magic out years ago.”

“Why?” It was an understandable question but still made you panic, he couldn’t know.

“I don’t know, all I know is he did, so those alike me – with magic but born into a magicless world – never got to know.” You were good at concealing emotions, that much Fenrys could see. You seemed to have iron walls built into the clouds around your heart, protecting it as fiercely as you would Amaris.

“Well, Maeve wants to meet with you soon, so let me know when you decide gorgeous,” he stood, and you smiled at him gratefully for not prying further.

“I’m really sorry Fenrys I just don’t think it’s a good idea. As I said I’m not a soldier.” He nodded but his eyes still conveyed a sense of worry.

“Well keep in mind you would get to train with me, probably shirtless.” He joked as you opened the door for him, grinning when you laughed loudly, shoving him through the door.

“Bye Fenrys,” you said, eyes sparkling as he waved, whistling his way down the street comically.

You closed the door as your smile fell, a weight settling on your chest as you already knew why he looked so wary – Kings and Queens didn’t understand the word no.

You practically ran to the library the next day, opting to bring Amaris with you as he peeked out of the small handbag you had found stuffed into the back of your closet. When you flew into the library you instantly sought out Albert, who took one look at your flushed, shining appearance and abandoned the pile of books he was putting away, motioning for you to sit down.

You sat quickly, huffing out a breath as Amaris crawled out of his makeshift home and started exploring the new territory of the small backroom reserved for staff only.

“What bothers you child?” Albert’s voice was steady as always and his dry, warm hands grasped yours gently as your eyes filled with unshed tears.

“I just – I needed to talk to someone,” you stuttered out, your breath coming in harsher pants as he shushed you.

“Take a minute and allow yourself to breathe first dear,” he commanded, and you pressed a hand to your heart as you tried to slow its pounding. “Start from the beginning, tell me what’s wrong.”

“The man I loved, his- his name was Dorian, Dorian Havilliard.” You said quietly and Albert let out a small chuckle.

“I presumed as much, I visited Adarlan once, and an old man never forgets the face of a princess.” You looked at him through blurry eyes, confused.

“You knew?” he smiled sadly at you.

“I was 90% certain, but I would never have pressured you to reveal secrets like that.” He passed you a tissue, “But I sense that’s not all that weighs heavy on you?”

You shook your head, “Queen Maeve has made clear that she wishes me to join the Cadre.”

Albert’s face changed with the clear shock, and you bowed your head, shamefully.

“And what did you say?” he asked slowly.

“No, of course! I don’t have any desire to be another monarch’s puppet.” You stated and he shushed you again.

“You need to remember that people always listen.” He scolded, repeating one of the first things he had told you when you started working. “I agree that you should be cautious, but perhaps gaining the queens protection would be beneficial. Plus you would become an extremely skilled swordsman.”

“I am not a man, nor do I wish to be.” You said through gritted teeth, “And I vowed that I would become skilled on my own and go back to Dorian.”

“Yes but if you join, you will be more skilled than ever before,” Albert reasoned and you shook your head, tears welling up again.

“I thought you’d be on my side for this, you are the one who told me to be careful around powerful people.” You felt unjustly betrayed as he spoke and his shoulders slumped slightly, sighing before grasping your hands lightly again.

“I am dear, and I urge you to do what you think is best. But I am simply reminding you that if you truly want to beat this king you are being offered power on a silver platter right now, and perhaps it would be foolish to deny yourself it.” You let his words run around your head as you worked overtime trying to figure out a plan.

“Say I joined – what do I need to do to ensure I don’t become another puppet?” you asked, and he smiled at you.

“First of all, she will offer a blood oath and you must refuse it with everything you have in you – she came to you remember you hold the power. On that note you must summon all those queenly powers of yours and ensure when you speak to her, she is meeting you and she is trying to win you over. Never the other way around.” You nodded, pocketing the information in your head. “When in the palace you are always being watched, always being listened to, so keep your wits about you. But I’m sure you’re used to that by now.”

You laughed under your breath, “It’ll be just like going home,” you commented, and he smiled.

“Sadly yes, now take this money. Go but a new dress and tomorrow you will take a carriage, you can’t walk there.” You thanked him softly, placing the gold in the purse you held, “You’re a kind girl, that is what makes you strong and that’s what will make you a good queen. Don’t let them take your heart.”

Your throat tightened and you nodded due to the lack of trust you held for your voice, standing, and collecting your bag in one hand and Amaris in the other. Albert stood to take you to the door with a smile, and a gentle pat on the shoulder.

“You can have tomorrow off work as well, however I feel our work together is already coming to an end.” You smiled softly, allowing him to pet Amaris’ head softly before he kissed your cheek gently, ushering you out the door.

“Have a good night Albert,” you said, turning to see him watching you with sorrowful eyes.

“Remember what I told you dear, don’t let them take your heart.” Your smile was sad as you spoke,

“I won’t.” You both heard the lie but, neither of you decided to correct it. Not tonight.

Of all the things Fenrys expected to see the next morning, you were the one he hoped for. But as he looked around at the powerful men surrounding the room he felt white-hot panic seize him as he realised what you were about to do. You hadn’t even looked at him when you walked in, keeping your eyes trained solely on Maeve, not even dropping them as you dropped in a low curtsy.

He was even more shocked by the blood red dress you adorned, the v-neck deep and skirts long with a slit up either leg, high enough to reveal the halter you wore with a silver dagger and a ruby encrusted hilt secured into place. Every man, woman and mouse watched as you walked through the room – head high and shoulders back, revealing enough to entrance everyone in the room but covering enough to keep them wanting more and he felt his anger grow as he watched you.

You waited with a soft, but condescending, smile on your face, allowing Maeve to regrasp some power by speaking first – every movement so calculated and precise. As he watched you he saw the power and understood the fear and lust building in the room.

“So I guess you heard my offer.” Maeve finally said, drawling low with relaxed posture.

“I did.” Your statement was short, to the point but you saw it grate Maeve’s nerves and smiled as sweet as spun sugar, “Your majesty.”

“And?” he watched as Maeve grew more agitated and was surprised she hadn’t killed you yet, usually not standing for even an ounce of insubordination.

“I am willing to accept on one condition – I’m not taking a blood oath.” He had to fight jumping in the air with glee as you spoke, so afraid you were going to get tangled in the mess he was in. Maeve’s face grew dark, but you held your ground, never letting your eyes stray lest she see your weakness.

“Well that’s simply not viable,” she stated, glaring you into the ground but you just smiled again, nodding with a polite laugh.

“I see, well this was a lovely meeting, gentlemen.” You raised your hand politely as you moved to leave, your eyes finally flittering over him and the rest of the cadre. You bowed once again to Maeve, making to leave when Maeve raised her hand.

“We are not finished.” She stated.

“Well I’m terribly sorry your majesty but I’ve made my terms extremely clear, and since you refuse to budge - I believe we are done.” Your voice was still sweet, but he watched your face change slightly, every bit a queen looking down upon her people. He couldn’t help but wonder were you learned to speak this way, but Maeve simply laughed.

“Yet here you are,” she spoke with a mocking tone, and you smiled with your teeth this time.

“Need I remind you that you sought me out, if I have terms it should be in your best interest to meet them if you wish me to join your miniature army.” Fenrys heard Lorcan snarl lowly next to him but gripped his arm in warning.

“Oh your training is impressive princess, but I’m afraid it will be of no use.” Your face didn’t budge as Maeve spoke, but Fenrys watched as something flickered through your eyes, “You see, I learn of misdemeanours in other courts very easily and I wish to show you what I learned of Adarlan.”

“There’s nothing you could show me that I won’t have seen before,” you said, and he watched the two of you laugh like you were mingling at a party instead of standing of in a court.

“Oh I’m afraid this is relatively new, you might reconsider your terms after this,” you stood straight as Maeve walked down the steps and moved to whisper something the rest of them couldn’t hear in your ear, her hand pressed lightly to the base of your neck.

She pulled away after a few minutes and he took in your now shaking hands, eyes filled with tears you clearly refused to let fall. You took in a steadying breath before speaking, “You’re lying.”

“Oh I wish I was princess, but I can only show the truth and it appears your prince had moved on rather quickly, what use is there going back to a country where you can no longer rule.” She stroked your hair condescendingly and you chewed the inside of your lip as it quivered. “But here, here – under my control – you have power of your own. Men will no longer hold onto you like a prized pony, you will become something they fear, you will be my perfect princess, the daughter I never got to have.”

Fenrys inhaled sharply, he knew Maeve never planned to relent the throne, especially not to a woman from another country. She looked at you like you were a doll, something for her to reshape and change. You must have seen it to, but through your blurry eyes everything had changed.

“Okay,” your voice was smaller than before, and he wanted to tear Maeve limb from limb for having broken you down so harshly with just a few words. She smiled cruelly at you as she cut a small line along her forearm and you bowed your head in pain, before falling to your knees – graceful even as pain consumed your entire being. You brought your lips to her wound and drank as she repeated the words that he remembered all too well.

When you rose your lips were sparkling red, and your eyes were glistening with tears still unshed – but you raised your head like a queen and Maeve smiled.

“I believe you have already met Fenrys, he will be training you as the training you have received is not proficient, I’ll have all your belongings brought to a room here.” Maeve waved her hand to some guards, but you stopped her.

“I only need Amaris brought here; the rest can burn.” You muttered.

“And for your new wardrobe?” She asked and you smiled looking down, wiping your mouth slowly.

“Make it red.” You finally met Fenrys eyes, and he stepped forward, desperate to drag you far, far away.

“Shall I escort her to her new room?” he asked Maeve and she flitted her eyes to him, then to the hand he had pressed to your back.

“Yes and then afterword’s come find me,” she smiled cruelly at him, and he felt you stiffen under his hand, but he just nodded and began to lead you out of the room.

He led you through the corridors and up the stairs in silence, angry at you for accepting and at himself for not putting up more of a fight. When he reached the room he presumed would be yours he opened the door for you, following you in as you sat on the bed, your usual lightness replaced by the weight on your shoulders.

He watched you bow your head and came to sit beside you, “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologise; this was my choice.” You said and he reached an arm around your shoulders, but you quickly shrugged him off.

“I shouldn’t, we shouldn’t, if you and the queen are…” you trailed off and Fenrys bowed his head in shame.

“It’s not like that, she, she makes me,” he muttered, and you inhaled sharply, turning to him with those watery eyes.

“I had no idea, I’m sorry,” you whispered, instantly looping your arms around him neck and holding him tight. “She’s a monster.”

Fenrys huffed a laugh, pulling away, “You’re telling me.”

He reached a hand for your face slowly, wiping under your eyes where a tear had escaped, “how did she change your mind?” he asked, dark eyes searching your face for clues as your bottom lip quivered in pain.

“She showed me home,” was all you said, and his shoulders dropped. He would leave it for now, you were young and clearly not ready to speak – and now, they had all the time in the world to speak.

“Sleep tight, training starts at seven tomorrow,” he stood and kissed your head lightly and you nodded, words getting caught in your throat. He left quietly, walking away as quickly as he could to avoid hearing the soft sobs that erupted as soon as he closed the door.

You could barely contain your tears until you got to your room, repeating rule thirteen over and over in your head, crying in public is only appropriate at funerals and weddings. But as soon as Fenrys left your room you sobbed into your hands, wailing, and crying like a child throwing a tantrum as you let out the emotions, the screams that have been locked inside of you for so long.

You had done everything for Dorian, changed every part of yourself and become the perfect princess, girlfriend, fiancé – and he, mere weeks after you had to run, was already moving onto a new girl.

As hard as you tried you couldn’t get rid of the image of him and the blonde girl out of your head. How he kissed her softly, his hand on her lower back where it always used to rest on yours. The smile when he pulled away, the way he laughed with her, the way Chaol smiled at his brother when he was happy. You had been forgotten, replaced, almost instantly, the warmth you used to feel when you thought of home, of your princes’ arms replaced by a tight chest and a cold feeling encompassing your heart.

“I’m sorry Albert,” you whispered into the air as you stood looking out on your balcony, gripping tightly to the rail as you feared your legs would give out, “She already took it.”

You were interrupted by a quiet knock on your door, wiping your eyes as you opened it – taking Amaris from the tall guards’ hands as a flurry of women pushed in, filling your drawers with clothes and cosmetics, candles and hair pins, books and plants, a million supplies for Amaris and then some. You smiled politely at them as they left without saying a word, in and out extremely quickly as you stared at a knot in the floor.

Another knock sounded soon after and you turned your head to see one of the Cadre staring in with piercing green eyes. You motioned for him to come in and stood, tilting your head up to meet his gaze as he took in your messy, tear-stained expression.

“You’re the first female member of the Cadre, ever.” He stated and you blinked slowly.

“Lucky me,” your tone was sarcastic, voice rough from the crying but the man smiled.

“I’m Rowan, it’s good to meet you.” He reached out a hand and you met it, allowing him to kiss the back gently.

“(Y/n)” you returned, with a slight curtsey.

“I look forward to fighting with you (y/n),” he stated, releasing your hand and turning to leave, stopping right before he reached the door, “Oh, and don’t lose that dagger, you’ll find a shocking number of men dislike powerful women.”

“First I’m hearing of this,” you deadpanned, and he chuckled.

“Goodluck kid.”

#fenrys moonbeam x reader #fenrys moonbeam #fenrys x reader #dorian havilliard x reader #dorian x reader #dorian havilliard #throne of glass #tog #rowan whitethorn

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saladejin · 4 years

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Call An Uber? | 06

BTS x Reader | idolverse au, uber driver!Reader, translator!Reader | Fluff, flirting, super slow burn, angst and hurt/comfort, mature themes and eventual smut

Summary: Your normal life with a normal, yet inconsistent job gets drastically changed when your dreams come true. Sounds boring right? What happens when all of this occurs, but you’re still doing something you love AND getting a large sum for it? Now there’s something to think about, and it’s definitely not what you’re thinking.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.8k

< masterpost >

A/N: This is a short chapter entirely focused on BTS’ point of view, and it basically addresses their thoughts and opinions that have developed since Chapter 1. (I’ve been re-editing some things from the original version)

Enjoy :)

»»————- <<prev | next >> ————-««

BTS POV

“Hyung, I’m not burning this am I?”

Seokjin clicked his tongue and wandered over to where Taehyung was hovering over a sizzling pan. The contents within steamed thickly, and the hissing sounds were noisy enough to drown out a horde of hungry trainees.

“No, it’s meant to be like that. Let me know when the onions turn golden.”

“Okay.”

Taehyung exhaled sharply and stirred whatever was in the pan once more, trying his best to avoid splatters of searing oil. The younger vocalist was known for his smooth and seemingly perfect tanned skin, so having little burn marks littering its surface would be super annoying.

Suddenly, the front door jolted open, and both men working in the busied kitchen whipped their heads upwards at the sound of loud voices filtering through.

“Confidence is seriously so important,” Jimin’s voice was raised, as if he was agitated. Hoseok responded with his own murmur of agreement, but both dancers drew to a halt when they finally inhaled the scents emitting from the kitchen.

“Wow! Hyung that smells amazing,” Jimin praised. The young dancer took a seat at the countertop while making sure to rest his sports bag underneath the chair.

Taehyung pouted and stirred again, playfully whining to gather everyone’s attention. “Hey, I helped!”

Seokjin chuckled and reached over to turn the heat of the stove to a lower temperature, finally allowing Tae to stand upright with no danger of getting burned.

More compliments towards the delicious smells emerged when a couple of the remaining members, Namjoon and Yoongi, trudged into the living area. The two rappers soon returned to their conversation regarding their recent tracks, barely seeming to take in the world around them as they lost themselves in musical discussion once more.

“Can someone get Jungkookie? It’s almost ready,” Jin then spoke, and shifted to taste the food with a small spoon, smacking his lips and groaning at the heavenly mix of flavours.

Hoseok snorted at the sight. “I thought you always said to never taste the cooking,” he quipped, then shrugged at Taehyung’s blankly confused expression. Nobody had gotten up to rouse their napping maknae, but they all knew he’d be drawn to the smell of food sooner rather than later.

“Were you guys just out for practice?” Namjoon questioned in a slightly louder voice once he spotted the dancer’s sports bags under the bar stools. He, Yoongi and Hoseok had plopped onto the plush couch in front of the TV to relax, waiting for dinner to be dished up.

Jimin swirled around in his stool, almost toppling over a glass of water in the process. He ignored Seokjin’s warning mumble and focused intently on their leader. “Oh, best practice ever!”

“True, wait what happened after I left?” Taehyung gasped and rested his wooden spoon inside the steaming bowl of vegetables, much to Seokjin’s disappointment.

“Well, we didn’t get to stay for too much longer, but we taught her the chorus part.”

Hoseok broke off into loud sniggers as he recalled the memories, while Jimin slid off the stool to contribute better to the conversation.

“Wait, you were teaching a girl how to dance?” Namjoon lifted an eyebrow while Seokjin reluctantly turned the stove off to let the food simmer gently. He was too curious to miss out on this news.

“Yeah, it was just (Y/n),” Jimin provided, and Namjoon eventually nodded slowly, still seeming utterly confused. Taehyung, after receiving the eldest member’s permission, bounded over to where everyone was gathered either on top of or in front of the couch.

“She dances really well but doesn’t give herself enough credit for it.” Hoseok’s eyes were blown wide, and his voice had an almost offended tinge to it. Jimin nodded, smiling and shaking his head at the thought.

“It was so funny, I never expected her to just start dancing like that.”

“Neither did I!” Taehyung exclaimed with a voice full of shock, “I was laughing way too hard, I feel kind of bad now.”

“Nah she was fine, she’s actually super laidback. It’s really strange to see, but it just makes her fun to be around.” Hoseok grinned when Jimin and Taehyung nodded eagerly in agreement. Before anyone else could input, the sound of shuffling footsteps brought everyone’s attention to the hallway.

“Why are we talking about (Y/n)-noona?” Jungkook rubbed his eyes, which were bleary with sleep, and hastily joined Taehyung on the floor in front of everyone else. Most of the boys chuckled at their youngest member and how it looked like he’d abruptly roused himself from his comfy bedsheets just for this conversation.

“Wait, if we’re talking about her, why hasn’t Yoongi-hyung told us off?” The dark-haired maknae’s question triggered various sounds of realisation, and everyone’s eyes swivelled to the mostly silent member in question.

“Well, I’ve met her now, so I can’t get that angry over it anymore,” he revealed, and Hoseok blinked rapidly.

“What? You didn’t tell us?”

“When?” Jungkook and Jimin chorused, the latter giggling quietly afterwards.

“It was only last week sometime, so I would’ve brought it up eventually.” Yoongi furrowed his eyebrows suddenly. “And I told Namjoon, so it wasn’t as if it was a secret.”

Namjoon nodded, his smile stretching wider and his dimples making an appearance.

“Yeah I knew, I just didn’t think it was a huge deal…obviously I was wrong.”

“You’re all missing something really important!” Seokjin suddenly cried out, his voice rose as he playfully slapped the armrest of the couch next to him.

“Why am I the only one who hasn’t met her?”

Everyone laughed loudly at their eldest member and his angry outburst. Hoseok grasped both of Seokjin’s shoulders and coddled him, fussing in a high-pitched voice.

“It’s okay hyung, your time will come.”

“Why are we overreacting about this? It’s just like meeting anyone else, for crying out loud,” Yoongi’s insulted tone battled his small smile as he protested loudly.

“Well, s-she’s different than the average person!” Jungkook stammered, and Jimin made a loud noise of agreement, pointing to Jungkook and nodding. “She’s a foreigner, and I’ve never seen her be shy about anything, it’s actually really interesting.”

“Well, she’s been embarrassed, that’s for sure.” Hoseok covered his mouth to stifle his laughing, and Jimin turned his pointed finger to the rapper, sharply exhaling in amusement.

“Damn right. Jungkookie even promised he would make her blush one day, but Hoseokie-hyung and I bet him to it,” the blonde gloated.

“Hey, not even fair,” Jungkook clicked his tongue. He was suddenly reminded that he had, in fact, told her he would accept the challenge of bringing colour to her cheeks again.

Seokjin shook his head, still bewildered over the conversation that had transpired. This girl had suddenly appeared in their lives and now she had somehow left her mark. He could only grow annoyed because he would never admit it, but he was fairly jealous. Why did he have to miss out on every single time she was there? He shook it off, trying to regain somewhat reasonable thoughts, and got to his feet to dish up dinner for the night.

“No more talk about (Y/n), we have delicious food to eat.”

“I don’t care what anyone says, I think she’s really pretty. Jiminie, please tell me you felt how soft her skin was.” Hoseok held out his open palms towards Jimin, and the younger widened his eyes.

“I thought I was the only one who noticed that!”

“Hey, that’s weird, I hope you guys didn’t do anything creepy,” Namjoon huffed in disbelief and a look of concern crossed his features. He was completely stunned, but he was still smiling.

“No hyung! It was just her arms!” Jimin buried his head into his hands, face erupting just like it had back in the dance practice room. Hoseok only laughed and slapped Namjoon’s back in retaliation.

“Yeah Joon-ah, not everything has to be perverted.”

Jimin didn’t hesitate to jump to his own defence along with Hoseok, but his head just wouldn’t rid itself of memories of the woman in question. The way she’d felt underneath his careful touch. How she’d seemed so small standing beside him, attentive and eagerly watching to obey his every instruction.

In the car during their first meeting, she’d had such an outgoing and charismatic presence that made Jimin want nothing more to befriend her and gain a sense of mutual respect, but in the studio, her sudden shyness and undertones of vulnerability made him want to hold her closer instead. He wanted her in ways he never thought he’d want someone he realistically should’ve still known as ‘stranger’.

On the other couch, Yoongi eyed Jungkook who was just sitting there looking dazed and confused about the entire situation. The elder of the two couldn’t hold back a snort of laughter before diverting his attention to the darkened window, the mere view of their struggling maknae too comical to stand. Taehyung was giggling, and he reached forward to slap Jimin’s knee.

“So that’s what happened after I left! You guys are terrible.”

Jimin groaned and batted away anyone who tried to tease him further. He wondered why nobody was beating up Hoseok, seeing as though he was the one to bring up the topic of touching girls in the first place.

“Yah! I’m serious, if you all want dinner, no more talk about (Y/n), if I hear (Y/n) one more time…” Seokjin shook his head, also concerned about the shift the conversation had taken.

When not one of them responded, the black-haired man craned his neck around to see what had caused the silence to befall them.

Jungkook was observing the floor with a tiny shy smile plastered on his face, his eyes darting side to side and his lips pressed together apprehensively.

Jimin’s smile was wider as he brought his hands up to his face, the blush still dancing across his cheeks as he tried to gently massage it away. He ruffled his blonde hair, as he usually did when he was feeling bashful, and for some reason swallowed nervously.

Taehyung had regained a fairly blank expression, but Seokjin knew he was thinking hard because the boy’s teeth gnawed occasionally on his bottom lip before running his tongue over the pressured skin.

Yoongi was still gazing out of the window absent-mindedly, his brows knitting together from time to time, and that was the only indication that he was thinking about anything at all. The rapper bounced his left leg whenever he lost focus like this, so it wasn’t hard to see that he was currently lost in another world.

Hoseok was busying himself by organising the contents of his bag, but his lips would suspiciously quirk every two seconds, and he even chuckled randomly once before getting up to make his way over to the dining table.

Namjoon had gotten to his feet as soon as Seokjin had warned him, but his gaze was glazed over with deep and conflicted thoughts. His fingers fiddled with the bottom of his long, black shirt in heavy distraction, and Seokjin observed with astonishment how his leader’s full lips eventually tugged up into a meaningful smirk.

“What, are you all fucking whipped!?”

tagged:@l4life, @joyful-jimin

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tessmontyart · 3 years

Text

2020 year in review

It’s funny, last year I never actually got around to doing one of these. I didn’t think it was overly interesting. Oh 2019, how I miss you so 😭Such an innocent time ....

I’ll do a quick recap, cause hey no-one but me reads these anyway. 2019 was a glorious time. I went to Italy for the first time, went on an awesome Hunter Valley trip with my friends, had a 100th birthday celebration for my pop, I got to see the show I worked on air on TV, we saw the Lano and Woodley apartment in Melbourne .... Good times!

I didn’t give a rats about being unemployed and took matters into my own hands by making loads of new merch and selling at the most conventions I’ve ever been to. I tabled at Sydney Supanova, Adelaide Avcon, Sydney SMASH, Coffs Nexus Con, Sydney Oz Comic Con and Brisbane Supanova! I did so much travelling and events, it became my full time job. It was exhausting, but it was loads of fun, it paid the bills nicely, and it was wonderful to meet followers and mutuals in person.

My partner was very invested in counting up the numbers of what was selling and what wasn’t, and taking note of what was inconvenient with my setup and how to make it better. He even made a powerpoint presentation on what I could focus on for 2020, what kind of merch I could focus on and adding more conventions to my list. We were both excited about the idea of trying out Armageddon in New Zealand, which would have been my first overseas convention!

Cue 2020.

It started off uneasy. There were still bushfires everywhere and smoke hanging around, but I was optimistic they would die soon and the rest of the year would be fine. I booked a bunch of conventions early as usual. Got a whole bunch of new things made and ordered for the first convention of the year, Melbourne Supanova in early April. Some Acrylic charms didn’t make it in time because of COVID, but I thought that’s ok I still have a whole years worth of conventions to sell them at!

COVID-19 was just a spooky mysterious thing that was happening overseas at that point. I think there might have been 1 case in Australia, so all the toilet paper and hand sanitizer was sold out, but we were still able to do our usual travelling for the event. Little did I know, Melbourne Supanova was the first and last event I could do in 2020.

COVID hit Australia hard, Melbourne especially. There were lockdowns, quarantines, planes were grounded, airmail was halted, the cases kept multiplying, rules kept changing and changing and it was all so new and such a headache. Seeing every single convention I had booked cancel one after the other was hard to process. This was my main source of income in 2019 and now it’s up and vanished. Everyone were losing their jobs too, so the idea of getting a new job was completely out the window.

I tried to cheer myself up by drawing ‘Toilet Paper Chan’, my new magical girl character who has the ability to summon toilet paper in a time of need 😅

I made it into a Draw This In Your Style challenge, seeing as everyone was bored out of their minds in quarantine I hoped it was something people could pass the time and have fun making.

(here’s a handful of my favourites) I had a few entries which were all very adorable, but I admit not as many people joined as I expected. I don’t blame them though, this whole pandemic was very soul sucking and demotivating, especially hearing the constant stream of bad news when it all started.

I also made some lineart of a cute Easter girl, encouraging people to colour her in if they are bored in quarantine.

That was really fun, and I planned to do more, perhaps whole colouring books for a small price to download.

Then, out of nowhere, my friend from the last animation studio I worked at in 2018 contacted me. “Hey Tess, are you looking for work?”

“Um .... yes?”

Work? In 2020? What?

It turns out the animation industry is one of the only industries that are doing fine in the pandemic. Literally the only change is that animators have to work from home instead of at a studio. If you have the animation software and an internet connection you have everything you need.

So my good friend had recently scored this job for a studio which outsources all their animation for their animated TV series. The role is just fixing up any animation errors inhouse to minimize the amount of back-and-fourth between studios. It doesn’t sound like much but it became too big a job for just one dude to handle, so he contacted me and 2 of my other animation friends to help out. We had a ball!

It was loads of fun, and the contract lasted the whole year!

It wasn’t just fixing up errors either, I got to animate walking/ running / jumping / flying cycles for the overseas animators to use, which was great practice for me, and we even had a whole episode to ourselves to animate from scratch which I really enjoyed.

And then ... the year just flew by, because I was busy working the whole time. It was really quite surreal!

There were a few highlights, such as being a bridesmaid for my best friend’s wedding and organising her hens party, which is one of those once-in-a-lifetime things.

(Hens Party - it was yellow themed (her favourite colour) and High Tea.. it was adorable!)

(The bridesmaids and the bride on the Wedding Day)

Unfortunately there were some lowlights too ... This was the last year I got to see my aunt.

She was the craziest, funniest aunt, and still far too young to go. I honestly don’t think I’ll ever be the same without her.

As always, drawing is the only way I cope with anything. My family chose a plain wooden casket, encouraging everybody to write a message or draw something on it, before it would be sent to the crematorium. I drew Spotty, her awesome horse I remember from my childhood, surrounded by her favourite flowers. Monty draw Mingus, her awesome ferret we also remember from our childhood.

That wasn’t the only bad news either. Pat’s Grandpa passed away later in the year, and a handful of my friends had relatives who either passed away or were diagnosed with cancer or some other horrible life threatening disease. A musician who collaborated with favourite artist collaborated passed as well, and even though I didn’t know him personally, it was still horribly devastating. Not to mention all my friends/relatives pets who didn’t make it through 2020. There was just so much loss this year, and I’m still grieving my cousin and my friend’s mum who both passed last year, it’s getting harder and harder to cope. It’s gotten to the point where I’m paranoid about who the next person will be because I haven’t finished grieving the last ...

All I can say is I hope 2021 is a little kinder when it comes to my loved ones. The small light at the end of the tunnel is; any suicidal thoughts I used to have frequently have all completely vanished, because I’ve been faced with the reality of it all. You really don’t realise how many people love you, people you don’t even know.

...

That was very dark, but it’s definitely something I needed to get off my chest.

Lets go back to a much lighter note.

More highlights:

🌻Animal Crossing New Horizons came out this year! I used to play Wild World back in the day so it was wonderfully nostalgic, and me and Pat have made the cutest little town with all our favourite villagers. It’s a nice way to escape from it all ^_^

(Monty’s island when we started)

🌻Speaking of games, the brand new Crash Bandicoot came out this year too! It was actually jaw droppingly amazing seeing all the awesome new ideas and mechanics they came up with while still keeping it classicly Crash. I loved it and I’m so excited to see if they give Spyro the same treatment!

🌻2020 brought about new and interesting ways to still enjoy Live entertainment. Lano and Woodley did a Zoom show which was absolutely hilarious, and Lights did an amazing online Dead End show which had me so pumped!

🌻Pat and I continued our anniversary High Tea tradition, this time trying it out at the Hydro Majestic hotel in the Blue Mountains!

🌻Speaking of Pat, his sister got married this year too, despite the pandemic. Congratulations!

🌻Pat randomly bought a Miku figure for himself, out of the blue, completely unravelling years of unnecessary ‘shame’ I’ve inherited caused by a pushy mother and a crappy ex. I used to love figure collecting but was convinced by certain judgy people that it was stupid and I needed to sell them all. I kept my very favourites in a cupboard ‘just incase they increase in value’. But now I can finally display them all again knowing Pat loves them just as much as I do!

We also added a ton more to the collection to make up for lost time (and because there’s SO MANY CUTE MIKUS NOWADAYS)

It’s a bit messy because we recently got new ones and need to make more space for them. The shelf with the Vocaloid nendoroids were my original ones hidden away in the cupboard, the rest we got this year ^_^ They make me so happy!

🌻Speaking of Pat unlocking things I’ve always wanted to do in the past: I am now planning to revive my old OCs Yui and Lotto! They were just characters of mine back in the day, but since I’m not good writing I never really came up with a story for them. But with Pat’s writer wisdom and my kawaii art style, I’m now planning a webcomic featuring the two cuties ^_^ It’s still in the very early planning stages but I’m super excited, and forever grateful for Pat, for believing in me ;w;

🌻This year I drew 31 more Owl City songs in copic markers, to go towards my ongoing project to draw every song! I’m actually getting quite close to my goal now which is exciting!

🌻This year I went to a Drive-In movie theatre for the first time to see the new Bill and Tedd movie, it was glorious and now I wanted to try more drive-ins. Going out to see a movie on a big screen *without* being able to hear smart-asses or screaming babies? Yes please!!

🌻How could I forget, this was the year my idol noticed me!! Lights shared and retweeted my Deadend fanart! Life = made.

What to to look forward to in 2021:

This is the first New Year where I actually have an idea of how 2021 will go! I managed to secure another animation job at a new studio starting January, ending January 2022 😊So thats the financial security for this year sorted! :P

As for general goals for 2021;

I’m hoping to have a decent plan, concept art, chapter ideas and hopefully even a script done for my new webcomic! I also wanted to make some cute simple animations of the characters just because c:

I’d also like to just do more of my own animation in general ... I animate every day for work but I never get to do my own animated projects. It will be hard with a full time job, so maybe this can be a 2022 goal ... but hopefully I can do at least one little animation of my own!

I suppose another goal is to make a social media accounts for my animation, too. Even if I don’t fulfil my goal, I still would like a page to showcase everything I’ve done so far.

And if all else fails .... Another goal is to draw more Miku. It’s crazy that I love her this much and haven’t drawn any fanart!

I think I’ll leave it there because I’m babbling now. 😅

I’ve done so many of these now o_o

[2018] [2017] [2016] [2015] [2014] [2013] [2012]

#2020 #year review #cw: death #cw: pet death #cw: suicide

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spacegaywritings · 4 years

Text

Warming Paws and Melting Hearts (1/8) “One Man’s Trash is another Man’s... Cat? “

Teen and Up audience

Summary: Remy does not know how to be a decent human being and he usually is too impulsive to interact with others in meaningful ways. However, he loves animals and his heart beats for them. When he meets the little street kitten Virgil, he takes them in... maybe he does have a shot at talking to his soft crush Emile if he learned how to care for another person?

Tags: mentions of the vet, abandoned cat, mentions of food, cuddles, snuggles, remy being a lil shit, insults kinda, playful teasing, mentions of gore (in metaphors) and head injuries and acid, migraines, headache, chronic pain, mentions of pain, mentions of death (all for shits n giggles bc Remy is a salty hoe), nobody gets hurt, Remy is just a lil shit, mentions of human waste (body waste).

- i do not think there is any more to be applied. If you need me to add anything, please contact me here or on my tumblr (spacegayparty, spacegaywritings)

This is part of the shipping series (Remy x Emile x Virgil) “Pol-opposites and other Riots”. Find it here on tumblr and on ao3!

chap 1: ao3

My KoFi - Support me ♥ or Commission me

Story under the cut: (Wordcount: ~5,3k)

The day was crisp, it was cold outside and the air smelled of ice. If winter had a certain scent, it was this. Akin to smelling the wetness of nearby ground after and before rain, it smelled of frozen ground and red noses.

Lucky for Remy, it was not too deep into winter just yet so he could wear a dark sweatshirt, thin yet long-sleeved at last and not freeze his nipples off. His signature black leather jacket (of course faux leather, since it was more flexible and comfortable to him) covered his shoulders and engulfed him with a certain warmth. It was a lid over the cooking pot of his natural body temperature.

Other than that, the purple strands in his hair held the frame of dark glasses - sun glasses, to be more specific. It did not warm him, specifically, but it shielded him from the mean sun rays.

Was there sun? Not really.

She was in the process of lowering itself, her descending figure spilling the light of life over the horizon and bathing the world in warm streams of her last cranberry streams. Her usually yellow to intensely golden illumination danced over his hands. He held a drink in one of these hard plastic cups with permanent drinking straws belonging to it. It was about as cool as the world around him, edging on icy. This was not too surprising, judging from the actual chunks of ice in his drink.

The shades of dark treasures mixed into the scarlet juice of the fading sun. The lights coated the world in new creation, the start of something that has not been there before, but few people stopped to mind the graceful kisses of light onto their skins and the little waves of natural beauty peeking into their vision.

Remy was not particularly one to appreciate the sun either. The blessed souls who were to adore and value the beauty around them were more mindful than the exhausted worker. He had just exited his job and wanted his weekend to start. In addition to that, he was motivated by the sun causing him pain. Her rays practically chased him off the streets. His tired eyes avoided the reddish gleams coming from the side. While he enjoyed the warm shine tanning his hands for a short moment, it hurt a bit too much for his liking. Instead, he thought himself as a clever person. He turned his back on the last bit of natural light and took a turn since he was at the end of the street, luckily.

He walked on, his jeans doing little to keep him warm. His breath was forming wet clouds of fog before his face. Kids would pretend to be smoking or have dragon breath when they stepped outside and got to breathe the cool air of late December afternoons. Remy just wearily breathed to stay alive as he walked back home.

His workday had just ended and he had stopped at a nearby coffee place - his favourite café! It was in walking distance from his work place and his home - before heading home. It was a usual thing to do when he slid into a weekend and decided that his migraines were not as bad as to give him any reason to avoid caffeine and extreme temperatures. When enjoying iced drinks, he should not exactly be suffering from pain already but neither should he consume scalding beverages.

Remy’s lips caught the pink glitter straw of his drink and once he had drawn the plastic cylinder close enough to suck it into his mouth, he did exactly that in order to treat his flaring taste buds with the deliciously sugary treat. Sweetness and the heavy taste of roasted coffee beans skimmed over his tongue. He was left with the idea of this syrup like treat of a drink in his mouth. The caffeine and low temperature seemed to immediately drive up into his head.

Being an experienced fan of iced drinks, he knew better than to immediately inhale the whole drink despite the great taste that brought a wide smile to his usually rather stoic or even condescending lips. If he was to go too fast, his brain would hurt. Since he was prone to chronic pain, there was no need to trigger the whole procedure of nausea and throbbing, continuous agony once more.

He drew in a deep breath and blinked at the way before him.

Grey pavement, some leafless trees framed the pavement and marked the difference between road for cars and the one for walking, much like a fence would. Except this fence had holes all over so people could run from one side to the other.

Before his heavy, black boots, little heaps of brown and dry leaves could be seen and the increasing level of winds swept around his thickly protected feet. As the strong breeze pushed past his form with blind ignorance, they pulled up the leaves in a mysterious dance. Heaps rose into dresses of imaginary fairy friends and took a few steps together with the crushing winds before an obstacle hit them and let their brief union fall apart. The leaf-clad figure would implode, their parts scattering all over the similarly colourless ground until the wind would pick up again and repeat the process tragically.

The worker walked on, aiming to find his way back home with the last rays of fire red sun tickling his neck as he strove away from the source of heat. It seemed that the further he walked, the darker it got. The colder it got, the more grey there was around him.

Whether his environment received the last kisses of precious life when the sun bid them farewell was a mystery. Maybe the sun was trying to drag the last bits of life from the surroundings in order to come back with more energy once she had processed all the stolen goods.

Remy’s steps leaving a dull sound with every step he left on the stone ground beneath his coal boots.

All he heard was the distant whirls of air running like the waves, coming close and suddenly fading and retreating in slow, shameful movements with the intention to have a more forceful go at the the leaf fronts next time.

He pushed his sunglasses away, letting the greying world around him make an impression on his unfiltered vision for the first time ever since he had started work. His weak orbs wearily eyed the way before him and he stopped for a moment to blink and assess the situation.

Was it dark enough? He did not dare looking up into the awfully white-haired sky of seamless cloud patches.

He blinked at the world and let his free hand rub his eyes with a little bit of mental praise for the effort and risk they were fearfully taking on for his own pleasure and curiosity.

His greyish-blue orbs roamed over the world around him and he sighed in relief. Next to him was a small alley, shady and narrow but a great short-cut to get to the other side and buy his eyes a bit more time to get used to everything until the sun had fully given up on emanating lights like a rich kid who had it all but actually felt nothing and needed to brag with the wealth of possession and energy.

Yeah, why not. Looked dirty but everything on this ground was full of spit and long forgotten piss anyway. Just like in the life of a rich kid, Remy thought to himself.

With a shrug, he pushed into the alley and took another big sip of his dark beverage with just enough undertones of sweet and soft tastes gracing and rewarding his whole mouth. He squinted for a moment and stepped forward but immediately stopped dead in his tracks when he heard a sound dive into his mind.

“Meow”

Remy retreated the straw from his lips and looked around. It took him a while until he found the little bundle of fur next to his feet. At first, he was not sure whether there really was anything more than a blob of darkness, perhaps just shadows from the sun setting dusk. But what he could see was a pair of different-coloured eyes staring up at him, accompanied by another meow.

A cat, actually, a very small little kitten with fur as dark as his thick boots was curled up next to him, making sounds so miserable it even reached Remy’s cold heart. That had to say something since it was about as icy as the world around him or the drink in his hand.

He did not know whether he would have done that at any other moment, under any other circumstances other than these.. all he knew was that he knelt down to the kitten that immediately shrieked in surprise and moved away from him. The movement seemed like a graceful curl, something he could not quite describe or follow. The darkness of shadows served as perfect environment for the kitty cat to use its fur as camouflage suit like a sneaky chameleon.

“Hey kitty. You lost?”

Emerald and azure orbs stared back at him, merely visible due to the sheer size of the small cat’s irises in the darkness.

It was comical to him that the cat had the most globe-shaped eyes he had ever seen. Something drew him to the kitty. It was hard to describe but he lowered himself and his hand set the drink down next to the cat. It did not move but the void sniffed at the cup and stub its damp nose against the cold surface of the container. After that, it flinched away as if shocked by the touch. In a heartbeat, it crawled away from the strong smell of cold-ridden, milked coffee beans.

“Alright, I did not wanna share anyway, you queen”, he commented with a sour expression painting his face.

The man gently drew his now free hand over to the kitten. It hissed at first and he nearly retreated but he decided not to. Instead, he let his hand rest on the ground for the little animal to examine it. More sniffing occurred, followed by the cat’s tracks somewhat stirring. A paw landed in his palm and Remy could feel something in him melt.

The cat patted his palm a few times as if to test the ground and let out another meow. This time, the kitten stared at him and stood up more properly. It still seemed a little ducked but it was not exactly in the same crawling position as when it merged into one with the shadows of high buildings. The shades were thrown out by buildings in a way, they were high enough to be protecting the animal and keeping an eye over it like a worried parent would watch over a toddler.

In reality, the cat was alone in a dirty, cold alley.

“You may be a salty bitch but you are still cute”, Remy mused softly. He was talking to himself, yet in a way, he was still addressing the cat.

Somehow he could not bring himself to just move on. Something told him that the cat did not exactly want him to go either.

“Well, sucks that I don’t have any food for you at the moment, right? I bet you would like some - hell, I’d like to feed you, little queen. You would probably be super cute when eating out of my hand, huh..”

Talking about that.. why not? For just a moment, Remy considered taking the animal with him - ... but was that even okay to do?

“Are you out here all alone, little kitty? You seem too small to be outside or without someone else like a friend or, you know.. a mom?”

The man blinked at the kitten who returned his complex questions with simple kitty sounds that seemed to drive straight into Remy’s heart, once more. It moved him, touched places within him and let his facial expression rest into a more relaxed one. T

here was nothing stoic about a melting man.

“So you are a stray kitty cat, huh? Sucks to be you, honey. You look hungry.”

Remy looked over the little blob of raven.

It looked way too fragile and tiny for a tough stray cat. He did not know much about the streets but he was sure that the weather was not exactly in favour of a kitten surviving all on its own. He.. he should take it in, should he not?

The man was still in deliberation as the cat curled up before him.

The wind picked up and weaved through Remy’s hair that curled around his sunglasses in strands almost like a flower crown of purple. The icy breeze brushed over him and the kitten, the scarce fur being ruffled by the natural force and the kitten let out a pathetic, nearly pleasing sound as it curled up further.

Was it that cold?

“Come here, kitten.”

Remy cooed softly, his words swaying through the air and charming the cat enough to look back up to him. There was a warmth he was offering when the world around them was cold and cruel. The cat was crouching a bit by now - once again, no surprise. But at least it did not try to put any more distance between it and Remy.

He gestured a stop sign.

“Kitten, wait”, he demanded and carefully shrugged off his leather jacket. At least it was a bit too big for him to be a comfortable fit. Since he had started working out more in the gym, his clothes fit better. It was not a size too big or anything, it was just cozy and allowed him to have proper movement space. As clothing should provide.

Without too much movement, the kitten hissed already at him. He changed his position and shifted in order to get his jacket loose. The young cat ducked, staring at all his body. Every movement of his muscle was noted by a flinch of the cat’s face or a little jump of its ears.

His sweatshirt underneath was thin and tightly hugging his body shape. It was not enough of a protection against the icy cold. Still, he set the jacket down .. oh man, his fucking favourite jacket on the shitty, piss-ground in a trashy alley in the dark.

Why did he do that again?

He heard a meow. His lips immediately broadened into a smile and he patted the inside of his jacket that was facing upwards to the grey, whitish sky.

“Come here, kitty cat, I will keep you warm. A queen like you should not be outside without the proper fur~”

Whether the black bundle of fragility understood the man or not, it carefully pawed at the new material and found it to be much warmer than the icy ground around them. Quickly, it took the hint and moved over onto the warm blackness that matched its own fur so well. Its inner chameleon seemed to sniff safety in an environment where it could disappear by simply merging into the background. The kitten curled up on the dark hole beneath it and meowed in delight.

It .. it started doing this funny vibrating sound. It reminded Remy of vibrations from a text message just a little more organic and vocal rather than a muffled sound.

It was clear and direct.

It went right through his heart.

“You like that, huh? Come here, little queen”

He carefully picked up the bundle and the kitten shot up, panic in the bi-coloured eyes. It nearly jumped out of his grip but was soothed when he carefully folded the jacket around the kitten. Slowly, silently, while maintaining a lethargic rhythm, he mumbled little encouragements as he moved to cradle the animal in his arms and rise to his feet. Again, the cat did not take it too well and rose once more, paws pressing against his collar bone. It looked back at where it used to stand with longing in their paws.

Maybe the cold was better than a stranger’s warmth?

Remy was standing by now, a bundle of possibly dirty street cat all wrapped up in his favourite and near-holy jacket. It was his personal relic but he was willing to share it with a freezing fella just for the sake of making that miserable little kitten a little bit warmer. After all, it was all alone and forgotten but had no protection or any other things to help itself out.

His hand gently stroked over the back of the kitten.

“There there, little queen. Come on, I will get you into the warmth and get you some food.”

As he started walking, he felt the first flakes of snow settle onto the ground around them. Little ice pieces landed on the curious kitten which tried to paw at the cool sensation before giving up and deciding that Remy’s chest was warmer to rest against.

By the time the worker had forgotten about the idea of regretting the abandonment of his weekly oh so icy treat, he was home and instead took his new melting treat into his apartment. He could not care less about his drink right now. All he thought about was whether he had enough food at home that was suitable for a kitten to eat.

Time to go through his cupboards and shelves and scavenge the internet for important information on kittens.

He got inside.

This had been much more tiring than expected but at least he had the kitten in safety now.

He settled on the couch and let the kitten down, carefully leaving it to to get out of the leather jacket by itself if needed - it more than willingly did. It dragged the leather jacket along and hid in a pile of pillows that sheltered the cat mostly. Back to being a flag of camouflage, now in his home. The kitten systematically pushed the jacket down to make some sort of bed out of it, if Remy had to guess. It looked like it was giving a massage to his clothing by pushing its paws against the fabric until it stayed down, flaccid and obedient as the cat had planned.

After this, the little queen proceeded to defiantly lay down on it, paws crossed and face focusing on Remy. He could nearly hear the hiss coming from it but the muzzle stayed shut.

Meanwhile, the human was giving the animal some space and looked up what the fuck cats were able to eat and opened another tab to look up vets. He already got a number within seconds.

“Queen, you are a sassy little cat but do me and yourself a favour and stay put. I will call a doctor and see whether I can give you food or not. Stay.”

He gave it a look. The cat stared back and eventually meowed before breaking eye contact with the man.

Well, that sure meant the kitten was okay with it and understood, right? Surely. Cats were super smart after all. If dogs could learn all those funny tricks then cats sure as fuck would be able to do that.

Remy left the room and went to the kitchen as he got on a phone call. He did not have any bit of cat food and he was somewhat concerned over what would happen if the cat was to be left alone at his place all of a sudden. It was better to take the cat with him or feed it something he already kept around.

Cats were bitches, right?

Like, not literally, obviously but still in the sense like humans were bitches, every now and then. Less in the sense of a female dog but more in the sense of being an arrogant and salty diva.

Yeah, maybe the cat was a queen because it was very much like some salty, self-righteous bitch. Who knew.

Remy kinda liked it. He was already thriving on the potential bitch vibes he got from it.

Still, from all the internet had told him, there was only super cute kitty cats that made people swoon and got you into someone’s pants or the kinda cats that did all sorts of odd things, but in a weirdly endearing way. And then.. then there were the uncaring and arrogant shits that only liked you when they wanted you and other than that used you as slave for food and drinks and that was it.

Well, the crazy fighter cats were also a thing but it seemed like such a thing from the last decade, he could not even take it seriously anymore.

Aggressive cats were not a thing, right? So, out of fashion.

Remy got to the kitchen and washed his hand. It was kinda common knowledge but he had also read that he should probably do that.

Yeah, probably. The internet was always right.

While he got a vet on, the cat got out of the pillow mess. Head ducked and tail low, the kitten checked the area before rushing out of its hiding spot and into one of the rooms It was warm inside, it was so so much warmer than outside. The kitten took the jacket along as it found a little box in some room and settled in the comfortably tight space. It was basically a big comfortable cave. Well, it was kitty-sized and just perfect.

Soon, the call was over and all the necessary social bullshit was done with. When Remy returned to the living room, he only found the kitten to be lost when he returned to a jacket missing. Hey, that was his favourite!

Fucking cat. Maybe this one really was a bitchy kitten. Maybe they were real, like, for real!

“Hey, kitty? Kitty, you got my jacket. And you fucked off. I gave you one job, I swear, darling”

No answer.

Well, what the fuck did he expect from the cat?

“Hey Queen, where are you at?”

No reply.

He groaned.

They had a fucking appointment.

Nothing went right that day, did it? He was totally supposed to take a nap and then get ready to party and not shelter a cat. What the fuck was this shit even?

When thinking about the shelter he had to provide, a thought crossed his mind.

...Snacks!

The cat must have been fucking hungry so maybe he could get the kitty to cooperate with him and get into a box or something.. or back into the jacket. Maybe the jacket was with the cat.

Yeah, that would help in locating the little bitch. A fucking black cat and a jacket just as dark in the surroundings of his home which was essentially kept dark so the light would not trigger his photo-sensitivity and fuck him into worse pain than usual.

Fucking fantastic.

He brushed a hand through his hair, sighing in exasperation and carefully took hold of the sunglasses he had kept on top of his head.

After some time, it hurt him.

Fuck, his body was such an annoying pussy sometimes. Wearing it on his nose was fine but keeping it on his head was totally much pressure.

“Kitty cat?”

Remus carefully approached the couch, looking over the pillows and turning some over. Slowly, gently. Stray cats were often feral or like,.. shy or scared or something. At least, that was what the vet and the internet had said.

Somehow he felt trapped with this cat and if he did not befriend it, then he would be in trouble.

So, for appealing the cat, he needed to find it and somehow give it some food and coax it into tagging along to the vet.

“Where are you, darling? Come on, do not challenge a bitch. No matter how much of a queen you are, you don’t wanna fuck with me, alright? Come on, you are not like that, right? Please don’t be a little shit, I totally don’t have the nerve for this shit, honey.”

He carefully lowered himself onto the floor and checked what was underneath the couch.

Nothing.

Ugh, it just hurt to do all this moving and bending. He could feel his head become heavier with every move.

“Cat, come on. I don’t have time for it. You are not that special, just come out and let me get you to a medic - vet. Whatever! Let me get you to someone who can handle you.”

He kept walking, eyes looking out for a movement or just anything. Maybe just the hetero-chromatic eyes that would stare back at him with a certain gleam, a certain wetness yet miracle in these orbs. Cats kinda were magical. They seemed to be at least good at disappearing for no reason, all random and without trace. That was some kind of magic, too.

“Oh kitty cat? Come on, stop being like this. I am nice, I will give you food and pay for your bills like some hot-ass sugar daddy. I know doctors suck, but please don’t hide.”

Still nothing.

“Do you even understand what I am saying? ‘Cuz, like, you are pretty unresponsive despite the honey I am giving ya, hear me, darling?”

He looked over the bookshelves and the little reading corner he had made himself. It was accessible when exiting the living-room. It barely counted as a room, it was just a dark pit of warmth and books and it smelled great. It was an oriel, not a real room. But whatever. It did not matter. Architecture was not up his sleeve.

“Kitten? You in here? Come on, queen. Don’t be like that. I wanna nap. I got food, don’t you want some fucking food?”

Silence.

Full stop.

A meow.

His heart was beating again.

Hope!

“Queen? Where you at?”

The kitten meowed but there was still no movement.

The sounds seemed to come from lower than where he was right now. Time to see whether the cat snuck into the bookshelves or behind them. He kept the lowest spaces empty until the books would just be too much and take up the space anyway.

“Queen, come on?”

Another sound - not quite a meow but uh.. something like that. More a ‘mrow’ or something of that sort.

Good hell, Remy did not even know anymore.

He knelt down, carefully examining the bookshelves. The lower spaces were all empty, nothing to look at.

“ugh.. caaaat~”, he dragged out.

The man let himself drop fully, his body just laying there much like the corpse in the middle of a recent crime scene.

“Where are you?”

He felt shot, so shot already and it was such a young evening, still. He had a full weekend ahead of him and his head was hurting so much. His frontal lobe felt heavy, close to just dissolving into nothingness with acid eating it up right in his head and it was pushing against his head.

Remy let out a groan, his eyes slipping shut.

Everything was too much.

He was close to just giving up when he could feel a damp spot press against his temples.

The man simply whined in response. He sighed in took his last bit of effort into opening his mouth to speak, then his eyes to see.

“This better be death, I swear to fucking hell.”

Nope, fucking hell no.

It was the cat.

Of course it was.

“Queen you are killing me. Already. Is that why people with pets are old? Because they want to die and know pets will do the trick if kids can’t? “

“Meow”

The kitten sniffed his face and Remy remained on the floor, opening his eyes more, so he could stare back at the kitten.

“You totally need to be washed and taken to the vet, kitty cat. Come on, let us go.”

He carefully got up, groaning under his breath and holding his head.

“Come here, darling”, he mumbled.

He crossed his legs and patted his lap. The kitten padded over to the book box it had stayed in. It was the box in which his latest shipping of second-hand books had arrived in. It smelled old and great, like paper and miracles, stories untold and feelings unwritten yet full of sparks of imagination and so many possibilities.

It smelled of magic.

It gently patted the jacket and dragged it over.

Remy looked over at the cat, eyes half-lidded. It felt so heavy.

The little stray kitten stopped pulling the piece of clothing when arriving at Remy’s leg and patted his knee.

The man giggled.

“Do you really think I am gonna share that with you, honey?”

The cat sat down and looked at him, patting his knee again. Remy gently reached out for the kitten and pulled it into his lap. The cat’s limbs went into every direction, flailing wildly until it was settled on his thighs.

“Maybe you are not so bad. You got totally good taste.”

He chuckled to himself but quieted down right after, gently brushing through the fur of the obsidian kitty on his lap.

“You found me, got the jacket. You are really going for it, gurl, huh?”

The kitten purred, literally vibrating under his touch and pushing into the soft affection. Maybe that kitten was not so stray after all. It seemed used to human touch after all. But it was not used enough to the cuddles. Otherwise it would not cherish them like this.

“What are you actually, little void? Male, female, androgynous, a demon? Immortal? Deity of chaos? Did you come to rob my house? ‘Cuz you won’t find lotsa shit here, honey.”

The cat looked back at him.

He stopped stroking its back and looked at the little black hole before him.

“I am listeeening, hon~”

The cat tugged at his hand and patted it, leading him over to its head again and pushing its little skull against the palm of his head.

The fur seemed even softer around there.

“Hey kitty cat, why are you so trusting? Shouldn’t you like, try to eat me and slit my wrists and all those wonderful things you void cats do?”

The cat had picked up purring again, the soft vibrations gently travelling through Remy’s skin as he carefully scritched its neck.

“You know, I have know idea who or what you are but you are my little queen now unless we know better. I have seen, like, no indicator of anyone missing you, so you are either freshly straying around or nobody misses you because you are a fucking bitch, honey.”

“Mrouw!”

Remy chuckled again.

“Yeah, whatever you say, little horror block. Let’s get me cleaned and pumped up on pain killers and I promise you can stay in my jacket. And when we get back we see that I order, like, some chicken or whatever for you to eat. The internet said chicken is hot for cats. Just, like, not actually hot. And not with those bones. Bones are bad for little shits like you, right?”

#sanders sides virgil #virgil sanders #virgil anxiety #remy sanders #ts remy sanders #Remy sleep #emile sanders #sanders sides fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #fanficion #fanfic fluff #ts fanfiction #joey writes

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lucindarobinsonvevo · 6 years

Text

She’s Got It

A secret santa fic for: @queenbeazley! Title: She’s Got It (Also on A03! let me know if you have an a03 account and I can gift it to you : -)) Prompt: Lucien & Jean, meeting via karaoke night AU (bar or location of your choosing) Word Count: 4,000 (almost on the dot) Warnings: N/A A/N: Sorry I wasn’t more present in your ask box, RL has been hectic recently. Hopefully though, you enjoy the fic! I don’t write fluff or Lucien/Jean often (ever?), but I did my best :-) Merry Christmas, and I hope the new year is kind to you!

Well, your daughter only turns eighteen once, was how he mollified himself stepping out of the car. Li comically threw herself onto the ground, but stopped short of kissing the ground. “Oh dear God, I’m alive!” She exclaimed. Her brother scoffed as he slid out of the drivers seat. Charlie looked offended by her comment. “I wasn’t that bad.” He muttered, even though Lucien had to wretch the wheel out of his hand no less than three times.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched a boy in a fairly poor George Michael costume approach them. Charlie’s boyfriend, Danny. Compared to Charlie, who was wearing the same denim jacket he wore every day with the addition of one ‘I killed Laura Palmer’ badge (taken from the shed, from a box of things Mei Lin left behind and Charlie had decided were his). “Good evening Doctor Blake!” Danny said, wrapping an arm around Charlie’s shoulders. The 1980s music pumping out of the pub is a song he recognizes but doesn’t know. “Good evening, Danny.” He smiled. “My driving isn’t that bad, is it?” Charlie asked as they went inside. Danny pulled an expression Lucien recognized from his own marriage that was a ‘you are, but I don’t want to hurt your feelings.’ Expression.

“It is.” Lucien said, stepping inside. “Yeah. I’m adding another song for almost killing us.” Li declared. “You wouldn’t.” “It’s my birthday so you have to do as I say.” Li said. Charlie looked to Lucien for help but he put his hands up. “Sorry son. She’s the birthday girl.” Lucien said, as the four of them wandered over to a large booth towards the back of the building. Charlie slid into one side of the booth, pulling Danny with him. He slid in across from him, Li slid in next to him.

It was on his first glance around the room that he noticed her. She was standing up on the stage, holding the microphone maybe a little tight in her hand. Her green drop waisted dress looked like it came directly from the decade in question, paired with a blazer that gave her shoulders rival to his own. He can imagine going to a nightclub in town and finding her at the bar, sipping an exotic cocktail from a glass with a tiny umbrella in it. And that wasn’t even getting him started on her voice.

“The goddess of beauty and love, and Venus was her name-“

She’s got it, yeah baby she’s got it, Lucien thought, the lyrics to the Bananarama song echoing around his head. He hadn’t even noticed her equally 80’s backup singers, equally coated in neon, tulle and poor choices. He tore his eyes away from the singing to look at Charlie, who was waving his hand in front of his face. “Doc? Doc? Earth to doc!” In a comical fashion. “Hm?” “Do you want something to drink?” “Hm?” “We’re in a pub, Daddy.” Li said, “A place where people go to drink.” Charlie is holding his debit card, while Danny poured over a menu. “Uh, I’ll just…Have a lemonade.” He said, and then produced his own card. “Put that away, use mine.” Charlie shrugged, and tucked his card into his pocket. “Drinks on me.” “Oh, you don’t have to do that.” Danny said, blushing. “My daughter will only turn eighteen once.” Lucien grinned, “So drinks are on me.” Danny conceded, and trailed after Charlie as he went to get drinks.

Green dress has gotten off stage, but he quickly spotted her sitting in a booth down near the stage with her friends. There’s quite a large group of them, and they’re all about her age. “Are you going to sing a song?” She asked, looking at the man giving a rather disappointing rendition of Everybody Wants to Rule the World. “Maybe.” He commented, as Li started combing through the enormous book of songs that the machine played. She’d come prepared with a note pad and paper to write down the ones that she wanted to sing, or force her brother into singing.

“Have you heard from your mother?” He asked, softly. “She texted me this morning.” Li said, looking up from the notepad. “How is she?” “She’s fine. She likes Singapore a lot.” Li smiled, “Looking forward to when I come over for the holidays.” He nodded, and sat back in his chair. He was happy with the way custody was split, (or, had been split now she was eighteen) but that didn’t make saying goodbye to his daughter for months at a time any easier. Over time, his relationship with Mei Lin has gotten better, but it still wasn’t great. They tried their best to keep things civil for Li’s sake.

“I’ve got drinks!” Charlie said excitedly, coming around the table. He was holding a small pitcher of beer and a couple of glasses, and Danny was holding a can of Diet Coke, and a can of lemonade, as well as bowl of chips in his other hand. “Wooo!” Li said, enthusiastically as Danny poured drinks. Charlie slid back into the booth and popped the top on his Diet Coke, and slid a can of Kirks across the table to him. “They didn’t have any Sprite.” Charlie apologized, as Lucien took a long sip. “It’s fine.” He smiled, as Danny and Li tapped their drinks together. His eyes drifted away through the crowd, and he spotted green dress laughing with her friends in front of the machine, clearly going up for another song.

“Looks like we might be fighting for control of the machine.” Danny said, draping an arm around Charlie’s shoulders. Charlie looked for a moment like he might shrug it off, and then thought better of it, squishing up closer to Danny’s side so he could see the book. He observed the interaction and smiled to himself. He liked Danny a lot, he thought it was good for Charlie to be with someone who was affectionate.

Not for the first time, he felt a tiny niggle of jealousy deep in his gut. He and Mei Lin had married young, he wanted to upset his father, and he thought she was going to be the love of his life. Li was born, and things got miserable. He’d been determined that his daughter wasn’t going to grow up in an unhappy home, and he and Mei Lin tried and tried to work it out, but it still ended in divorce. Of course, then Charlie fell into his life, and he’d become a full-time father again, not just the half of the year when Li was with him.

He’d been busy, with work and child rearing (and drinking). He hadn’t done much by way of dating when Charlie was young, and he hadn’t since he moved out, either. His eyes drifted out over the collection of people, and then came back to rest on Charlie and Danny. Maybe it was time to get back into the game.

Green dress was back up on stage, her metallic blue eye shadow sparking in the light. She was alone this time, and her slightly drunk friends are cheering loudly by the stage.

´”You with the sad eyes, don't be discouraged-“

“True colours.” Charlie said, scribbling that down on Li’s notepad. “Have you heard her new album? The country one?” Danny asked, to which Li shook her head. Lucien drowned their chatter out to pay attention to the veritable siren on the stage.

“But I see your true colors, shining through. I see your true colors, and that's why I love you-“

“Don’t be afraid, to let them show…” He murmured under his breath. Oblivious to his heart eyes, the three young people at the end of the table pulled him back into conversation. “Alright, Daddy-o.” Li started, “We’ve picked out some songs.” He tore his eyes away from her for the second time to look at them. “Charlie is going to be singing Wake Me Up Before you Go Go-“ “Against my wil-“ “-Shut up Charlie, Danny will be singing Ice Ice Baby-“ “Which is actually from the 90-“ “Shut up, Charlie, I will be singing Cornflake Girl-“ “That is from the 90s, just like-“ “Shut up, Charlie, and you will be singing Mona.” “Which is also from the 90s.” “Which version of Mona?” He asked, ignoring Charlie. “Well, since you keep saying you look like him, the Craig Mac version.” “I think you mean Craig Mac and the Check 1 -2s.” “Whatever. It’s in the book.” Lucien looked at Charlie, who was arms folded and nearly pouting. “I’m lost, who’s Craig Mac?” “Craig McLachlan, people always say Doc looks like him.” Charlie said, filling his boyfriend in on the situation. “Who?” “Remember when I took you to see Rocky Horror?” “Yeah.” “The main dude.” Danny tilted his head and examined the man. “I can kinda see it.” Danny said, “Maybe if you were wearing lipstick.” “I told you I look like him.” Lucien insisted, as Charlie rolled his eyes. “People mistake me for him all the time.” “Sure they do.” Li said, rolling her eyes, too. Charlie is a terrible influence on her. “Well, if they ever make a movie of my life, I know who they’ll cast.” “Yes, Doc, they’ll make a movie of your life. Working at the clinic, driving Li to soccer practice and dragging your son to an 80s night and everyone decides to sing 90s songs.” “You don’t know that. Maybe I’ll save the life of a famous person, or be in a really bad boating accident.” “Yeah you don’t have to actually be good at anything, you just have to have lots of bad stuff happen to you.” Danny agreed. “We’re not living in Scream, Danny.” Charlie scoffed, “And if Doc’s life was made into a movie, what kind of dinky d-lister are they going to get to play me? Some dude who people only remember from one appearance in a shitty kids film, probably.” “Speak for yourself, I’m at least a B-lister.” Danny said, “Hopefully, some hot, young Home and Away alum.” “With my luck,” Li said, “I won’t be played by anyone because it’ll happen when I was seeing Mum.” The three of them tittered, and Lucien, having had enough of his spawns bickering, rolled his eyes. “I am going to que us up at the machine.” He declared, getting to his feet. “Alright, then.” Charlie said, handing him the slip of paper. Li slid out of the booth, and after a moment, got right back into bickering with Charlie. Lucien rolled his eyes, and wandered down to the front of the pub. The karaoke machine sat at the bottom of a little stage, and it seemed to be a free for all when you were putting in your songs.

He cued up each of the songs Li had written down, and then looked over at the machine. He typed in each song so they were cued up, and paused to watch the women on stage, belting out ‘Girls Just Wanna Have Fun’ as if their lives depended on it. Green dress was standing in the crowd, mouthing the word. He could walk up, and talk to her, if he really wanted. There was nothing wrong with that. But he’s a coward, and she’s here with her friends, so instead he goes back to the table.

“Who’s up first?” Li asked, taking another sip of beer. “Me.” Lucien scoffed, “Who else?” “Your freshly legal daughter?” “Don’t be ridiculous. Eldest first.” “Well, by that logic, I should be first.” Charlie counted, “Since I am in fact a one hundred and five-year-old alien.” “Can you prove that?” Lucien asked. “Can you disprove it?” “You look good for your age.” Danny said, “I would have thought you were only eighty-five.” “It’s not my fault I was blessed with beautiful skin.” He’s barely been sitting for five minutes when his song flashes on the machine. “We’ll be here.” Li says, all but shoving him out of the booth.

He hurried to the stage, and took the microphone in both hands. The lights were so bright he could hardly see the crowd, but he did notice Green Dress watching him, interested. Lucien has never thought of himself as a shy person, but damn she was making it hard. Look at you, old fool. You don’t even know her and you’re acting like she’s your high school crush.

The music kicked in, and words danced along the screen suddenly. He hadn’t realized it, but he’d started to sing. He was already at the chorus when his mind kicked in. He’d been swept up in the memory of playing this on Charlie’s school guitar with him.

“Tell you Mona what I want to do!”

He sang, the crowd cheering him on. Suddenly, he’s struck with a devious idea. He moved to the front of the stage, keeping his voice steady as he reached out, drawing on his inner Craig McLachlan, he offered green dress a hand. To his surprise, she took it, and let him lead her to the stage.

In the bright lights, she looks all but angelic. Her hair is ridiculously back combed and it looks like a halo in the light. He can’t tell if her eyes are sparkling or if it’s the makeup, but either way it’s beautiful. She moved left, then right, her hands suspended in the air as she moved in time with the bouncy music. Her lipstick is pink, and has tiny sparkles suspended in it. She smells like a mix of perfume and cocktails. He wants to keep starring at her as she lets him take a hand, hers fits seamlessly into his, and turn her around.

The light catches on the metallic fabric of her dress, and she can’t help but give him the most beautiful smile he’s ever seen as the song finally comes to a close. The romantic lighting fades away, and they’re back to standing on a demountable stage in a slightly dodgy bar in a worse for wear part of town. Only three of the lights work, and behind him the neon lights are only half working. They stand for a moment, looking at each other, before laughing. They get the same clap as everyone else, polite but mostly disinterested.

The next song clicks onto the screen, and both of them scurried off to the tables in the front row. Deciding that the kids could wait, he sat across from her, and they both looked at one another, before laughing again. “I must say, you’re a very talented singer, Mister?” “Lucien. Lucien Blake. And you?” “Jean.” “Nice to meet you, Jean. “And you.” “So what brings a lovely lady like you, to a place like this?” Okay not his smoothest move but it would do. “A girls night. No better decade than the eighties.” She grinned. Her teeth are white and square. “You?” “My kids birthday.” She looked at the stage where Danny was belting out Ice Ice Baby with enough enthusiasm for ten people.

“That’s one of yours?” “He’s actually my future son in law.” Pause. “Should I be worried about my kid dating someone who looks like me?” Apparently, his dad humor amused her because she chuckles. “Ahh, we all mess up our kids, comes with the territory.” There’s something sad under the laughter. He decides to take her mind off it. “Well, children aside, can I buy you a drink?” “Mighty forward of you, am I to assume there’s no Mrs Blake?” “There is not.” Not anymore, not that she needed to know that. She contemplated, before she nodded. She checked her oversized watch. “I’ll have a ginger ale.” Lucien grinned and made his way to the counter. He noticed Charlie is hiding his face, and Danny is now sitting on the opposite side of the table, and Li is all but skipping towards the stage. He grabbed a ginger ale, and a diet Coke for himself.

He returned to his seat, and delivered the lady her ginger ale. “Is this one one of yours?” He doesn’t comment on her usage of one twice. “My only and eldest daughter.” Li was singing off key, but what she lacked in nuance, she made up for with enthusiasm.

“I always wanted a daughter.” Jean said, “But God only saw fit to bless me with sons.” “How many sons?” “Two, Jack and Christoper Jr.” “A family name?” “After my late husband.” “I’m so sorry.” “This isn’t very good first meeting talk.” Jean observed. “As old people, we are strictly limited to discussing our children, marriages and the weather.” “And IKEA sales.” “IKEA is having a sale?” “Yeah it just finished, flat pack was half price.” He clicked his arms in front of him. “Damn. Just missed it.” Jean laughed, and took a sip of her drink, her lipstick left a mark around the rim. Interestingly, she doesn’t use a straw. They lapse into a comfortable silence until Li finishes singing, and Lucien has to do his fatherly duty and ensure he’s clapping the loudest. Li flung herself off the stage, and ran over excitedly. “Did you like it?” “Of course I did.” He said, irrespective of if he actually did. “It was great.” Jean said, as Li eyed her. Apparently, she passed the test, because Li grinned. “I’m going to force Charlie onto the stage.” Lucien caught her arm. “I know ribbing Charlie about his driving and bad attitude is all fun and games, but if he really doesn’t want to do it, don’t force him.” He warned her. “He’s allowed to bow out if he’s not comfortable.” Li nodded, and hurried back to the table.

“She seems like a nice young lady.” Lucien gave a wiry smile. “You haven’t gotten to know her yet.” “Will I?” “I haven’t decided yet.” He replied, “Would you like to?” “I haven’t decided yet.”

Lucien looked up as Charlie took the stage, his hands shaking hard as he tried to keep a tight hold on the microphone. Danny is already cheering, much to the annoyance of the other patrons, but they could all serve to lighten up a little. What Li had lacked in talent she made up for with gusto. Danny…Well Lucien doesn’t know; he’s pretty sure Ice Ice Baby isn’t even a real song, but he’d at least had enthusiasm. Charlie has neither skill, nor excitement, and his singing amounted to him mumbling into the microphone. But he gave it a shot and Lucien supposed that was the most important part

“One of yours?” “Yep.” He replied, as Charlie slunk off stage before he could even begin to clap; Danny cheering as loudly as he dared. He slunk off stage and into the bathroom. Lucien watched as Danny followed after him and supposed he got it covered. Jean touched his arm lightly. “He’s quite brave.” “He always is.” He replied, “Can I buy you another drink?” He inquired, smiling. Charlie would be fine. Jean checked her watch again. “No, but you can sing a little duet with me, if you’d like.” Jean said, swallowing the last of her drink. Lucien observed her for a moment, before nodding. “Of course. What do you fancy singing?” “I’ll surprise you.”

Lucien watched her walk away, and he noticed he’s smiling to himself. She keys in a song to be performed after the woman on stage finishes her (very enthusiastic) version of ’I Ran (so far away)’. While he waited, he wandered up to Jean, coming to a stop next to her. She smiled at him, and she looks like the sun has just risen for the first time.

When the woman gets off the stage, he joins her, there is only one microphone, so they have to stand very close. He can smell her breath: ginger ale and alcohol. Maybe a little bit of toothpaste. The song title flashes up on the screen, accompanied by an unfortunately fake sounding guitar: ‘More Than Words – Extreme’ Huh. He kind of remembers that song, but not too well. Not well enough he could sing it by heart, but It’ll do. Jean takes the opening verse, starting a fraction of a second before he can open his mouth.

“Saying "I love you" Is not the words I want to hear from you-“

Lucien is struck by the thought that her voice would sound beautiful up against a plain piano, maybe a metronome. It’s a beautiful voice, attached to a beautiful woman. He is ridiculously infatuated with her, despite having known her for less than an hour. Matthew was going to think this was a hilarious story when he shares it next time they meet for lunch.

That’s if he survives the teasing from his kids.

“What would you do? If my heart was torn in two?”

Lucien’s heart is already in two, but of course, he doesn’t say that out loud. It’s just a song, after all, it’s meant to be relatable. No one wants to listen to music they cannot relate to. It’s why teen pop sells so well, and also probably why Charlie used to have a wall full of Justin Bieber posters. Because people relate to having a crush, or being in love, or having whatever an Ennie Meanie Miney Mo lover is. And he, in his old age of fifty, can relate to having a heart torn in two. That’s just how it was.

Jean picks up for the Chorus, all but belting the lyrics in true karaoke style.

“Make things new, just by saying "I love you-"”

I love you. Lucien has said a lot of I love yous in his life.

To his mother. To his wife. To his daughter. To his son. To his close friends. To his dogs. He’s said a lot of I Love Yous and he is suddenly and shockingly struck by the fact that he would like, some day, to say I love you to Jean with no last name he met in a dodgy bar in a worn out neighborhood, like a fool. He is a fool. A hopeless romantic, sure, but still a fool. You don’t fall in love with someone you just met. Love takes time, and work, and effort, and he wants to do all that. But first, he just wants to get through this song.

“Touch me, hold me close, don't ever let me go. More than words is all I ever needed you to show-“

Could he have saved his other relationship? Potentially. Touch me. Hold me close. He wanted to hold someone close. He wanted to be held. He wanted romance, and love. Someone once told him, potentially Matthew, that he was built to love, that he had too much of it, and he was destined to be a bleeding heart. That has never felt more true than it did right now.

“La di da, da di da, di dai dai da-”

Beautiful.

“More than words-“

Wonderful.

Her perfume smells chemically floral. Her voice sounds like honey

The music fades out. Kiss her, you fool! Kiss her! Thankfully, Lucien is not a slave to his base urges, and he does not invade the woman’s space more than he needs to. They depart the stage, and she gathers her bag. Lucien casts an eye to his table. The kids are sitting and talking among themselves. Charlie seems to have recovered, and Danny is trotting to the stage. Lucien recognizes the opening to ‘I Love You, Always, Forever” if he’s ever heard it. Didn’t seem like Danny had much musical talent, either. Oh well, C’est La Vie.

Jean is speaking with her friends, he looks over at his one time companion. She’s holding a napkin in one hand, it has the logo of the bar in one corner and a stain that could be anything from grease to beer in the other. She passes it to him, and there is a note scrawled there in purple gel pen.

‘Lucien –

Hope you had as much fun as I did. Call me xx

Jean B.-

P.S: You owe me a kiss for next time.’

Then her phone number, and a kiss imprint, complete with tiny pink sparkles. He looked up, Jean was nowhere to be seen. Neither were her friends. After a moment, he moved back to the table, and sat back down next to Li. He put an arm around her shoulders and looked at her list of potential songs. Your eldest daughter only turns eighteen once.

#tdbmsecretsanta2k17 #mitziwrites #the doctor blake mysteries #lucien/jean #not going on to ff.net due to the fact that it includes song lyrics sorry to ff.net only people

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cinnonym · 4 years

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Who might I be? Anyway, as your ask is open for prompts: extreme (distinctive) characters.

Well, if that isn’t my favourite person in the whole wide world

It’s not every day you encounter the perfect jawline. So when you do, you don’t let it go again. Which, to sum it up, was how Emmy Lou ended up at the mechatronics workshop.

Her backpack dug painfully into this place right between her ribs, where it hurt the most, the assortment of pens and notebooks an unorganized mess. In her defence, she had thrown everything together in her haste to get up and follow jawline-girl from the tram.

Normally, unfinished drawings didn’t annoy her much – it was inevitable if you insisted on drawing strangers on the tram. A tram, by very definition, both collected and lost people at every station, none of which were in Emmy Lou’s control. Her notebooks were overflowing with half-drawn sketches, their status ranging anywhere from a few lines to full-grown coloured art pieces, depending on both the schedule of her models and her own motivation on that particular day.

The point was, Emmy Lou didn’t care all that much about the people she perpetuated on her pages. They were practice, simple, gratis practice, a means to an end to some day get her access to art school.

The other day an elderly man had looked over her shoulder and sent her a thumbs-up. „Never give up on your passion,“ he’d said and Emmy Lou still couldn’t decide if she should be discouraged by the hopeless manner he’d said it in, or motivated because he’d gone through the trouble to talk to her at all. Then again, Mary always said she was overthinking too much, so maybe she just ought to be glad to have had a human interaction.

None of which mattered now, Emmy Lou told herself strictly, angling her head backwards to look up at the shabby wall in front of her. A brickstone house, similarly rundown as the cottage Emmy Lou herself lived in these days, covered in malicious looking tendrils of ivy. A rusty sign hung from an iron stick, its colours faded it read „Bill'n'Ben’s, Mechatronics inc“. Beneath the sign was a door with a bell.

Emmy Loud had spent the last five minutes looking at said door. Jawline-girl had vanished behind it, a teasing whip of her ponytail the last thing Emmy Lou had seen from her. It was idiotic, probably, to have come here, on account of a half-finished portrait. It was probably idiotic to have come here, period. Emmy Lou should be at the market, running errands for her mum and younger brothers. Instead she was following a girl to her workplace like a downright creep. On the other hand, now that she had come as far, shouldn’t she at least give the situation a try and ring that bell? What could possibly go wrong?

That, Emmy Lou noticed rather quickly, was exactly the wrong question to ask herself. She had barely finished the thought when the scenarios popped up in her head: jawline-girl could be part of a cult, a group of gangly teenagers just waiting for innocent redheads like Emmy Lou to offer as a sacrifice. Or the mechatronics shop could be a disguise for a laboratory of super-scientists – jawline-girl certainly looked the part – and they would abduct Emmy Lou for their researching purposes as soon as she rang the bell. Or worse, the bell itself could be connected to a bomb, which would inevitably destroy the whole building and everything in it, because evidence had to be annihilated.

Or maybe it wasn’t and instead jawline-girl would open the door and laugh at Emmy Lou. In her mind, Emmy Lou imagined a high-pitched and obnoxious laugh that would destroy the positive image she had of the girl. A sneer that would twist that beautiful jawline into something not at all draw-worthy until Emmy Lou would leave, scarred for life and forever untrusting of human beauty.

Before Emmy Lou could lose herself too much in the twisted corners of her brain – though some of the pictures did make for excellent comic material – she used a trick Mary had once shown her, after one of Emmy Lou’s frequent attacks-of-counterproductive-overthinking, short ACO. She took a deep breath, imagined the oxygen streaming down her pharynx, slowly reaching her tubes first, then her bronchia, alveoli and finally her blood. The only subject Emmy Lou liked more than Arts was Biology, and that was mostly due to her young and over-motivated Arts teacher at school, who had insisted on trying out crazy new methods every week. (Recreating statues had been the worst of them. Emmy Lou hated touching other people.)

Once she had successfully distracted herself with the wonders of breathing and the human organism, Emmy Lou turned back to the door. It didn’t have a window, which was too bad, since Emmy Lou would have loved the minimal advantage of knowing where she was about to go before she went there. As it was, she didn’t have much of a choice but to press the bell and wait.

In the twenty-ish seconds it took Bill or Ben or whoever actually owned the shop to open the door, Emmy Lou had made three half-hearted attempts to run. In fact, the only thing really keeping her from making a dash was that the street the workshop lay in stretched on for at least a mile in each direction, with absolutely no corner, turns or even a house entrance to hide behind. If there was anything more embarrassing than ringing a bell of an unknown shop, it was being caught on her flight.

Plus, she really wanted to finish her portrait of jawline-girl.Which reminded Emmy Lou of the possibility that it could be jawline-girl herself, who was now slowly turning the knob to answer the door, and the thought was so frightening – because what should Emmy Lou say, „I really like your jawline, please let me draw it?“ - that she almost reconsidered her priorities and made a run for it after all.

But by then, the door had finally swung open and Emmy Lou stood rooted to the spot, clutching the string of her backpack with one hand, the other still awkwardly hovering over the doorbell, as she mustered the person in front of her.

It wasn’t the girl, which was a good omen (she hoped). It wasn’t an old man either, which was the picture both Ben and Bill had evoked in Emmy Lou’s mind. It was, however, the next best thing: an elderly woman. Jackpot, Emmy Lou thought, because while the woman watched her with apprehension of the kind that made all words vanish from Emmy Lou’s brain, she also seemed rather kind and grandmotherly, which was always a good thing.

Emmy Lou remembered her manners just in time before the woman could open her own mouth and undoubtedly ask what the hell Emmy Lou was doing here. Because a short girl with too-frizzy hair and a backpack bulging with notebooks certainly didn’t make the impression of frequenting a mechatronics workshop. But Emmy Lou smiled her most convincing smile that she had practiced in front of her mirror for months now and said brightly enough to fool even herself: „Excuse me, Madam, I am looking for Mister Bill?“

Which, for some reason Emmy Lou couldn’t quite understand – Bill was one of the owners or had she remembered a wrong name? - drew a hearty laugh from the woman.

„My dear,” she then said, her voice just as hearty, and not at all frail like Emmy Lou would have expected, “Bill died years ago. I just haven’t gotten around to change the sign yet, besides, it looks so handsomely alliterative, don’t you think? My name’s Benedicta, I’m the widow. Whatever business you had with dear Bill, I’m afraid you’ll have to make do with me instead.“

„Oh,“ made Emmy Lou, who felt incredibly dumb and vaguely horrified at the idea of other, worse outcomes of her blunder. What if Benedicta had gotten angry instead of amused, or worse, started to cry. What if Bill had died yesterday instead of years ago? She could have put her finger right into a fresh wound and hurt this kindly lady whom she didn’t even know, for no other reason than her absolute incompetence to let go of a perfect jawline when she encountered it.

Benedicta, apparently mistaking Emmy Lou’s mortification at the near miss for some sort of grief, put out a hand to stroke Emmy Lou’s sleeve briefly. (Emmy Lou barely held her hand in place instead of recoiling from the touch, but only because she was still too dazed to react.)

„Poor girl, don’t be sad,“ she said, her voice hovering between pity, which Emmy Lou abhorred, and a strange amusement. „He died quite peacefully, in his sleep, whoosh and gone. Besides, nobody is really mourning him, he had always been the kind of person who didn’t quite belong on earth, don’t you think?“

Emmy Lou, once again, hesitated. The sheer volubility of the woman overwhelmed her, but at the same time, she felt grateful she didn’t have to do the talking herself. Also, Benedicta was already half-dragging, half-leading her inside, which seemed like a good first step. Now Emmy Lou only had to find jawline-girl and ask her if she minded posing for her, so she could finish her drawing.

But Benedicta, chattering continuously, solved even the next obstacle for Emmy Lou. They had barely passed through a short and narrow hallway, Emmy Lou struggling to fit her bulky backpack through, when Benedicta interrupted her monologue for a second to call out: „Don’t mind us, Tess, tis just a visitor looking for old Bill, isn’t that perfectly amusing?“ And half a minute later, jawline-girl popped her head around a corner, mustered Emmy Lou with the same cool stare she had objected her phone to, back on the tram, and disappeared again.

Emmy Lou almost started after her, drawn to the possibility and once again mesmerized by the stunning perfection of her jawline, but Benedicta’s hand was still on her sleeve, rooting Emmy Lou to her spot at the kitchen table.

„That was my niece, Tessa, she’s living with me. Helping out at the shop too, though Lord knows she isn’t made for the handiwork – no offence, sweetpie!“ The latter being called out in response to the gruff that came from the corner Tessa had vanished behind.

Benedicta leaned in conspiratorially and winked. „She hates being inept at anything but I’m only telling the truth, you know. People have to learn to live with the truth.“

„I can still hear you,“ Tessa’s voice sounded out, low and melodic though sharp in its irritation, and it was a voice to remember, a voice that demanded attention and praise; a voice befitting that jawline. Once again, Emmy Lou stirred, her artist heart drawing her towards Tessa, towards the artwork. But Benedicta’s grip might as well have been iron for its unwillingness to let her go, and Emmy Lou had no choice but to stay and face the woman’s cheerful smile and airy tone.

„So, what business did you have with dear old Bill?“

Emmy Lou flinched. It seemed ironic, but she had almost forgotten about her excuse to ring the bell, to get into this house which didn’t seem like a workshop at all but more like a really homely kitchen.

„I, uh,“ was what she made as she tried feverishly to come up with an explanation that for one, satisfied Benedicta’s curiosity and on the other hand, could also lead up to a portrait session with Tessa. She came up blank.

Benedicta was still watching her apprehensively and even from Tessa’s general direction, Emmy Lou picked up a curious sense of expectation, almost as if both women knew she had been playing a ruse thus far and were looking forward to the next act of the play Emmy Lou was performing for them.

Emmy Lou coloured. Her mind, her wonderfully imaginative mind, that could come up with a thousand and one horror scenarios if need be, that served as live commentator and innate cinema most waking hours of her day, lay now empty and silent before her, unable to concoct a single excuse.

She sighed.

„I am an artist,“ she said truthfully and at last, before Benedicta could start speaking again, questioning her further, pressing. Her hand, still on Emmy Lou’s arm, felt less comforting now, and a brief image of handcuffs flashed through Emmy Lou’s mind before it went black again. „I’m here because I want to draw - „

„The sign!“ Benedicta interrupted, cheerfully enough to break the heavy atmosphere that had grown in the room. „Of course, that’s why you were mentioning it earlier, Bill had always wanted to repaint the sign. No sense for vintage, the man, that’s what I always said, but you know how they are.“ She nudged Emmy Lou and winked.

Emmy Lou responded with a weak smile of her own, amazed that yet another problem had been solved by Benedicta’s bubbly personality. Was it lying, she asked herself, if she didn’t correct the wrong assumptions other people made? Was it wrong not to mention that it had been Benedicta, who had been speaking of the sign earlier, that Emmy Lou had never mentioned it once? Was it very despicable not to stop Benedicta in her cheerful rant over how she had paint stored downstairs and how Emmy Lou could start whenever she wanted and “feel free to redesign it completely, dear, I love me some change, besides, it wouldn’t hurt business if a fresh sign attracted some more customers than the current one did.”

And then she added „Oh, and dear, Tess can help you, she’s decent with colouring, if not at car work,“ and Emmy Lou decided that if she was a despicable being, at least she got what she wanted. Which was more time to study Tessa’s jawline, so she would go with the play for now.

„That sounds awesome,“ she managed to fit in between two of Benedicta’s floods of words, and both of them ignored the complaining „Aunt Bee!“ from the other room.

When the topic turned towards payment, however, even Emmy Lou’s unscrupulousness found an abrupt end.

„I don’t mind doing it for free,“ she insisted, over and over again, her guts twisting uncomfortably. „Consider it a last gift for poor Bill, a sign in his honour…“

But Benedicta wouldn’t hear of it. „Nonsense,“ she said, her fingers momentarily tightening around Emmy Lou’s wrist with a fierce kindness. „Of course you will be paid, if not in money, at least accept cake and biscuits while you’re working. It’s the least I can do, besides, every girl should have cake and biscuits, I’ve found it lightens the mood so much, don’t you think?“ Emmy Lou couldn’t really argue with that.

In the end, it was decided that Emmy Lou would start her job tomorrow – now she just had to come up with an excuse for mum, to explain her sudden unavailability for daily chores – and that paint and tools would all be provided by Benedicta whereas Emmy Lou just had to „come and make art“.

And promptly, Emmy Lou was out of the warm kitchen and on the shabby street again, her hand clutching a slip of paper with Benedicta’s phone number - ”In case anything comes up, you know” - her mind struggling to comprehend what had actually just happened. She hadn’t seen Tessa again, but that was okay because starting tomorrow she would see the girl more than enough to finish her sketch.

And now, Emmy Lou thought, I just have to come up with an idea for that blasted sign I’m supposed to paint and everything will be fine.

Lying isn’t really lying if you work for it, right? Also, she was adamant to tell herself over and over again; that jawline? It was totally worth it.

#my writing #original writing #prompted #writeblr #writing community

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thomasroach · 5 years

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The Darkside Detective Review: Occult fun for All Ages

The post The Darkside Detective Review: Occult fun for All Ages appeared first on Fextralife.

The following post is this author’s opinion and does not reflect the thoughts and feelings of Fextralife as a whole nor the individual content creators associated with the site. Any link that goes outside of Fextralife are owned by their respective authors.

This started out as just a Steam review but I wanted to post due to the fact I enjoyed the game so much. But after the second paragraph, just after finding out that the Devs are releasing Season 2 in the coming year after a successful kickstarter, I realized that this is a game I want as many people as I can tell to know about. Just adding another positive rating to the already existent mass of them would be as helpful as getting a windmill to spin by blowing on it. So let’s do a full review, published courtesy of Fextralife so I can waste your time tell you about a pixel styled, point and click adventure game, so you can waste spend your money on it.

The Darkside Detective Review: Occult fun for All Ages

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Genre: Adventure/Point & Click Developed by: Spooky Doorway Published by: Spooky Doorway Release Date: July 27th, 2017 Platforms: Nintendo Switch, PC via Steam (Review Platform), Mac, Linux, Windows Price at the time of the review: $12.99

This is probably one of the funniest adventure games I’ve ever played and has got me back into occult fiction and fantasy. This is a mix of Ghost Busters and the X-Files, added with two thirds of the three stooges. It’s silly, spooky, laugh out loud fun and deserving of more investment, and no I am not a member of the dev team or affiliated with them in any way, but yes you should give them lots of money. If you have little to no interest in occult fantasy, buddy cop comedies, pixel graphics, or point-and-click adventure games, then I’m sorry to say you have lost approximately fifty seconds of your life reading the introduction to the review of a game you probably won’t want to get anyway. If you do, then let’s begin.

Story & Setting

The Darkside Detective tells the story, or rather many stories by Francis McQueeen, a seeker of the occult and eldritch as well as an investigator of all things paranormal and supernatural. Teamed with his goofy cop sidekick, Officer Dooley, Detective McQueen investigates multiple cases dealing with some form of ghostly apparition, crazed cultist, demonic entity, or cryptic creature. Despite its many horror themes and monsters, this game is a satire through and through, making fun of everything horror B-movies have tried to scare audiences with. It’s filled with parodies of various popular horror flicks and myths.

The satire, however, is really only a small facet of the comedic hilarity, as The Darkside Detective excels with its writing of ridiculous characters, situations, with plenty of jokes and jabs, that revolve around what is terrorizing New Yor-I mean Twin Lakes at the time being. Twin Lakes is a city rife with crazy paranormal encounters, and equally crazy (if not more so) people to deal with. Its a bevy of kooks and weirdos who range from a pyromaniac eight-year-olds, a paranoid anti-government sea monster, An occultist train engineer, a rival detective so douchy he literally takes candy from babies (then fines the baby for crying about it) and more.

It’s just…a mess, a beautiful mess of madness that makes progressing through each story a treat, with dialogue so funny that I want to interact with every possible thing just to hear it all, and everything seeming to have some kind of oddity or quirk just to make it all that much stranger. I could go into further detail on each individual story, but honestly the best experience with this game, is going in blind. Truly it’s the storytelling and writing that makes this game fantastic, as it seems to be for the most part of these classic adventure games.

If my mother had that much storage space in her closet, she’d still run out of room by the end of the month.

It’s the major selling point, and what I most loved about The Darkside Detective. I wish I could say more, but unlike thoroughly explaining gameplay, visuals, audio, and all other more technical components of a game, story and humor are some things you can’t go into full detail without spoiling the plot, or weakening the experience compared to a first time playthrough. Again, if you enjoy buddy cop comedies, Ghostbusters, and horror movie satire, this is a sure thing, heck, even if you don’t like point-and-clicks, I would still say get a guide and play through it like that, cause the humor is top notch. Simple at times, witty at others, but splendid all around. Not every joke was equally funny, but there wasn’t a single one that didn’t at least put a smile on my face.

Audio & Visuals

Simplistic, is one word I could use to sum up the pixel art style and colorful is another. Blocky, square, and geometrically appealing are a few more. “The Darkside Detective’s pixel graphic style lends a nostalgic return to classic point and clicks of old, that is reminiscent of titles such as Monkey Island and Dark Mansion” is a pretentious sentence I could also use to describe the art style. However, when it comes to pixel art, there only three things I, and likely what most people care about.

There are no words to describe how I feel about this.

Does it look nice? Can you tell what’s going on and what’s what? And will it possibly give me an epileptic seizure? To all these questions I can pretty much answer yes, yes and you may want to consult your doctor about that. Really though, given the decades of practice game development has had in 2D pixel art, I think it should be the basic standard for any pixel game to look “nice”, decent at least, and The Darkside Detective has certainly accomplished that.

Though simplistic to the point of not having facial features for most characters outside of facial hair, and hardly any dynamic animations, the game looks vibrantly colourful, and is especially beautiful at certain points in the story. It’s…like a child’s drawing actually, made into pixel form. Lots of strong, crayon colors, simple details, and some cartoonishly designed characters. which is quite fitting given the game’s comical nature.

But this is a quite an important feature that can damn a point-and-click pixel game into the nine circles of game development hell. If a pixel game’s standard is to look attractive, then knowing what anything and everything is at a glance should be the barest minimum. This is so I can tell the difference between a baby rattle and a bomb so I don’t accidentally recreate a morbidly dark version of a loony toons skit. So, how hard is it to tell what the hell I’m looking at and clicking on? I’m happy to say, hardly difficult at all. Unlike some point-and-click titles, this is one where I can tell exactly what’s what and who’s who.

Pretty much everything of interest is definable from the background and usually large enough and colorful enough to catch the eye. Anything that doesn’t easily stand out can be found with a little mouse waving. The point is, I never had a “What the $&%! Am I looking at?!” moment, or ever got stuck because the thing I needed to find was so obscurely hidden in a mess of visual clutter, so that it ended up being a hidden object game on top of a logic puzzle.

Finding things was fairly easy, and the game hit that sweet spot of being visually interesting and fun, but not so much so that I ever got sick and confused from looking at it. The game’s visuals are neither boring nor over stimulating, and the valuable items are easy to distinguish with a little looking at the most, giving the Darkside Detective a pass and thumbs up in its visuals department. While I do admit some more dynamic animations would have be welcomed, I can’t say there was any point in the game when I didn’t enjoy what I saw on my screen.

When it comes to audio, yeeeeah, don’t expect award winning vocal performances because as well as having no mouths, no one has voices either. Does this bring down the game? Well if you hate reading of all kinds, then yes, yes it does. However, if you do enjoy the written word as well as or even more than the spoken, then you’ll have no problems here. For me, the silence is actually preferable in this case. The lack of vocal sound leaves one in a quieter atmosphere, as well as it draws more focus on the music, which I’ll get to in a minute. Also, personally, I would bet that the voices the devs would get for the characters if they did, wouldn’t be as good as the ones imagined in my head.

Sound Effects

As for sound effects, they do their job, quite minimal and only occur during certain events such as putting out a fire but are well used as they do add to the scene or action. I can’t really complain about nor commend the sound effects, but given how little significance they have to the game as a whole, I don’t think it really matters. In a more action focused game, this would be a problem, but in an adventure title having sound only when something’s happening is probably for the best. Having constant, distracting noises would probably just get annoying over time, and like I said, when they do occur, the sound effects do add something, so they’re not a waste.

Soundtrack

Finally and most creepily, you have the music. If the voice and sound effects were largely ignored to focus on the music, then I have to say it was a smart choice. Simply put, the music for this game in fantastic, a beautifully fitting soundtrack of creepy and spooky pieces, paranormal and ghostly in tone and execution, amplifying the horror side of this horror comedy. Each song a similar yet unique brand of subtle horror, not truly scary or spine chilling in the sense of wandering around an empty house with Michael Mires walking in pace right behind with that classic Halloween music playing. It’s more on the side of what you would hear in say a supernatural mystery documentary, or a ghost story narrative such as tales from the crypt.

The Darkside Detective Soundtrack by Ben Prunty

It’s whimsical, with a good deal of creep factor, not to cause terror, but to draw one into a state of calm eeriness. It’s somewhat enchantingly haunting all at the same time, more serene than disturbing, in a way that soothes the nerves rather than putting them on edge like the aforementioned Michael Mires theme music. It also gives the feeling that something’s not quite right, that proper paranormal vibe like a specter may be looming over you.

Gameplay

As a point-and-click adventure game, the biggest thing you would want to know is this “how hard is the gameplay?” Because when it comes to games like these, difficulty can range from being fairly easy, just click the big shiny red button with “press this” in big, bold letters. To being more challenging in terms of gameplay with “you better have a detailed walkthrough on hand cause this will be like figuring out the Divinci Code, upside down, in a bad translation of J.R.Tolken Elvish speak…………and the paper’s on fire”. Thankfully, the Darkside Detective is not the latter and far from it.

The answer to this conundrum is easier than you think, though it does require extensive understanding of fourth dimensional quantum physics.

Puzzles

The puzzles are on the easier side of the scale, with the majority of puzzles giving strong hints as to what you need to do and what does what, as well as being largely involving “use this on this” style of puzzle solving. A staple of point ‘n’ clicks, with a few fun little mini games such as clear the tiles, make a pipe chain, or connect the wires without crossing them. Most of the use this on this puzzles usually took but a minute to put two and two together, after finding the needed objects. The only times I ever got stuck was because I didn’t know exactly how to use the items and on what. This was largely due to not knowing what order certain things had to be done in, but even then, that was only during a few problematic minutes.

Only once did I ever run into a situation where felt particularly stuck which I feel is worth mentioning. This happened due to an arbitrary order of operations where in this particular instance I had actually worked out what I had to do, before clicking on the hint that would lead me to the action.

Aaah, if gamers of the past could see us now. Futuristic graphical technology that can render beads of sweat dripping off of a realistic swimsuit model, and we’re still playing games you could run on a calculator.

Aside from that, the gameplay is, admittedly pretty average, though I did find the occasional mini game quite colorfully fun and a welcome exception to the standard point ‘n’ click affair. The puzzles that had logical solutions were in no way hard, and any puzzles whose sensibility and reasoning deviated from common logic were clearly explained. I never really encountered a situation where I’d solve a puzzle and then say “how the hell does that make any sense?!”, or, “how the hell was I supposed to figure that out?!”, or “how many drugs were these developers taking to think this up?!” And you know what? That’s the way I like it.

The puzzles are easy but not too easy, thus giving quite entertaining and not too frustrating obstacles between plot segments or events. The short length of each case (level as it were) makes it so that they don’t get stale before the next case, and helps change things up a bit.

Final Thoughts

The Darkside Detective isn’t revolutionary, it isn’t mind blowing and it isn’t a brain buster. However it succeeds where it matters most, it’s fun. It’s fun to look at, it’s fun to listen to, it’s fun to watch, it’s fun to read, and it’s fun to play. From start to finish, I had a great time playing this wacky little game and enjoying all the humor, mystery, and added spookiness that it had to offer. While I can definitely see room for improvement, this is still a solid experience as it is, and I wholly recommend it to anyone who wants a light-hearted adventure into the world of the supernatural and occult.

However, though the find and use puzzles are a common staple of the point-and-click genre, I do genuinely think they’re becoming too common place in gameplay in these games. I would rather see more of the kind of puzzles that diverge from the well-treaded design. In The Darkside Detective these worked well to a certain extent, but it was the puzzles that didn’t have them, that really stood out for me, even if they were ones not completely original.

I much prefer adventure games with clear, simple, logical puzzles rather than the extremely obscure moon logic puzzles the “classic” adventure games present me with, and you know why? Cause that’s not what I playto adventure games for. I come to them for enjoyable, entertaining stories as well as characters with clever dialogue, colorful plots, and interesting worlds to explore. That’s exactly what The Darkside Detective gives players.

If you enjoyed this review be sure to read more with our latest thoughts on action shinobi Sekiro Review: Shinobis Die Many Times. Or you can check out Capcom’s demon hunting title Devil May Cry 5 Review: Ssstylish Perfection.

The post The Darkside Detective Review: Occult fun for All Ages appeared first on Fextralife.

The Darkside Detective Review: Occult fun for All Ages published first on https://juanaframi.tumblr.com/

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georgianamebane-blog · 6 years

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A Dogs Want

Momentum Performance Advancement is actually a expert and also personal training provider. This's the typical, daily moments from joy and happiness that typically outrun us. One means to alter this is actually through coming to be purposely aware of when our team are actually rejoicing within the day. Happy individuals possess a trinity from joy and happiness practices: they set targets, possess gratifying social partnerships and also practice positive mental routines. Whether that is your job or a task around our home, you want to make certain you strive at this and also finish it. I love to work with lumber. Having said that, an intervening snooze blocked and even reversed this negative mental reactivity to temper as well as worry while conversely enhancing scores of good (happy) expressions. If you enjoy a certain amazing food items, state this and also if it is actually possible he is going to make reservations at a restaurant that provides it even though he certainly never tried that in the past. May create every comic book enthusiasts fantasize a truth along with a reported launch from the Justice League in 2015. Not that I hate just how I appear-- it's even more simply that I should create some way of living improvements. Spanish locations like Majorca hold unique appeal to holidaymakers outward Europe. However my activities didn't follow just what I understood intellectually as well as I found on my own counting on to be happy whenever something really good happened to me. Sure, I was happy for some time, however that really did not' final. Receiving just what he prefers during a sexual intercourse is going to give him better fulfillment and leaves him delighted. Recognizing points that create you happy as well as making all of them part of your life will certainly be actually the only means you can locate that delighted location. This features waiting for one thing to come right into your life to enjoy. While there are actually clearly traits that occur in your lifestyle that produce you think either unhappy or even happy, the simple fact is actually that these experiences come as well as they go. The much better furnished you become at handling the occasions that induce you stress the less effect that are going to have on your health and joy and happiness. So, yes, Commenter, I can choose to be happy or feel minutes of contentment and inner unity, despite everything's taking place. I feel this's not just my task but my duty to help store a more loving vibration on this planet-- particularly right now. A lady which is willing to experiment is actually one thing that every man dreams of, therefore if you wish to make him actually delighted, provide him a possibility try something brand new. You will certainly locate some core explanations for this, as well as knowing these explanations are going to help you make the proper modifications. That's something certain to you, as well as with some aid you may know effective ways to deal with your newly found understanding and make your life comfortable ... and also true life ... one that isn't bypassed along with your obsession considering that you think that this is actually more vital in comparison to your true personal ... given that this's certainly not. However in any case, they made me extremely very pleased, and also created me want to quit as well as reflect on all the various other things that are creating me pleased nowadays. Merely, if your near relatives and also close friends were happy folks, there's a superb opportunity that you are going to be actually too. Mindfulness can easily help you to be satisfied with exactly what you possess through allowing you to actually cherish just what you have. You are actually perhaps looking for tips to honor this happy event in a huge way if so. You're the cause I have not lost my thoughts now, you create me delighted as well as you were ALWAYS certainly there for me hands down. Guys are really persistent and also possess huge egos, so it is difficult for them to permit any person to create them perform one thing. Marketing is necessary, but the absolute most crucial is actually the jobs you do, given that there is actually always somebody in the reader which is actually preparing an event in the future as well as need to have an excellent performer. He recognizes that if he reveals you he is sorry for the split up, you could reject him to get vengeance or you will definitely expect him making a dedication. You can maintain a daily publication of the beneficial or even really good points that happened in your time or even you can easily match unfavorable opinions you bring in regarding your time or your own self along with one thing good. . Lots of people choose about their lifestyle and also job based upon exactly what is typically taken into consideration right" and also excellent." What they believe they are actually supposed to perform - living coming from the outside in: letting others people's requirements conclude your life. What Creates Me Delighted has a format that is particularly effective in developing empathy along with teams from kids that are very politicised or considereded as a danger. On present i am actually very delighted to tell the planet that Micheal is back to me due to Dr.Zabaza that make use of is world powers to designate a spell that delivered micheal back to me within 48hours. I indicated a guy who's title is PROPHET AHMED he is actually truly strong and also can assist appoint spells to recover one's gone, dropped, acting up aficionado and also magic funds spell or spell for a great job or good fortune spellI'm now pleased & a living statement cos the male i had intended to marry left me 3 full weeks just before our wedding and also my lifestyle was upside down due to the fact that our connection has actually been on for 3years. Looks alone could produce a guy desire you intimately, but if you want him to join love, devote to a relationship, as well as see you as his only, at that point appears alone will not suffice. Yet only saying no to one thing you delight in, whether that's frozen yogurt or even swinging as well as other facets from an amazing, bold sex lifestyle, are going to not create your need for that discolor. This morning I was behind an individual in traffic who decided they were actually going to create an ideal turn. When he got in to one from his dark state of minds, Andrew was always so pleased that it believed specifically disconcerting. And also if you desire to create your guy delighted in the true sense, after that you will have to ensure changes in you. Caution must be actually taken, however, when attempting to eliminate an affliction, as novice wheels might really magnify it and make it much worse. If you have any questions about where by along with the way to utilize yellow pages uk contact number (healthystylefit.info), you are able to e-mail us with our own internet site. Folks throw colours on each other and desire Pleased Holi." Individuals also make special foods at their residence and also eat with their good friends.

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thomasroach · 5 years

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The Darkside Detective Review: Occult fun for All Ages

The post The Darkside Detective Review: Occult fun for All Ages appeared first on Fextralife.

The Darkside Detective Review: Occult fun for All Ages

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Story & Setting

If my mother had that much storage space in her closet, she’d still run out of room by the end of the month.

Audio & Visuals

There are no words to describe how I feel about this.

Sound Effects

Soundtrack

The Darkside Detective Soundtrack by Ben Prunty

Gameplay

The answer to this conundrum is easier than you think, though it does require extensive understanding of fourth dimensional quantum physics.

Puzzles

Final Thoughts

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The Darkside Detective Review: Occult fun for All Ages published first on https://juanaframi.tumblr.com/

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