#to disguise the smell of how bad people smelled because weddings used to take place in the summer
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Nightbringer is so funny bc if diavolo didn’t threaten to send us back to the human world(idk of that happens I’ve only heard) Lilith would still he here no? I don’t think she would be like a baby when they said she was reborn as a human I just assume they just put her in the world and erased her memories but she was probably reborn as a child and grew up. But she would still be around meaning that it would be so incredibly far into the past because even they had a hard time tracing MC’s lineage😭 so imagine going back to like a time before lightbulbs were invented. Absolutely the FUCK NOT!!! I could not for a second live as a small sickly Victorian child no way I would be able to survive watching people Live in their own filth😭🤢 I’m sorry i’m not witnessing slavery or the black plague Dia has me all the way fucked up I’m too spoiled by modern technology like socks and hoodies
#obey me#obey me shall we date#obey me x black reader#obey me nightbringer#nightbringer lucifer#nightbringer spoilers#om! nightbringer#nightbringer mc#nightbringer diavolo#Barbados you better take my ass home now!!#I think I would actually change the course of history#if you put me in there and I’m watching slavery happen in like real time#I am going to overthrow the Catholic Church and change Christianity and Catholicschism as we know it#i’m going to start killing priests#I’m so serious telling people to shoot Christopher Columbus on site don’t even let them step foot on America#get gone!!!#like they didn’t take baths I know they smell bad🤢#they have a bouquet of flowers at weddings because those used to be onions#to disguise the smell of how bad people smelled because weddings used to take place in the summer#and these people haven’t discovered soap yet so onions#I would literally be throwing up so quickly#And if we have a canon Lilith design I need that white women to protect me#ain’t no way
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Of Freckles and War | Fred Weasley
✦ pairing — Fred Weasley x Mexican American Plus Size Reader (she/her)
✦ word count — 4k
✦ summary — you were only supposed to provide security for Bill and Fleur’s wedding.
✦ warnings — angst, mentions of war, some violence, fluff
✦ a/n — this was requested by a lovely reader who showed me a receipt of her donation (based off this post). Thank you so much, @5pantherpride, first of all for donating and of course for trusting me with this.
❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎
Weddings — you were neutral to them. You even were glad for people who fulfilled their goal to marry, but you found the timing of Bill’s and Fleur’s less than ideal.
The Order had a lot of things to worry about. Short on members and with the infiltration in The Ministry at its peak, you surely wished you could help in better ways.
Security duty wasn’t new to you, but it was the first time you were to fulfill it without Moody. His death was another reason why you wished you could be somewhere else. He had been the closest thing you had to a mentor.
At least the dress fit you nicely, way better than you had imagined it would. Finding one in such times hadn’t been the easiest task, much less with your schedule.
Offering to help with the guests so you could watch them closely, you introduced yourself to Bill’s twin brothers.
You had seen them before from afar, but that was it. Mrs. Weasley constantly said they were too young to be part of The Order so you assumed staying away to avoid problems would be better.
Smiling at the first arriving guests, you consulted the seating plan and guided them to their seats.
“Shut your mouth,” George snickered, pushing Fred’s chin so his mouth would clamp closed.
Fred shook his head, realizing he hadn’t stopped staring at the spot you had been standing in.
The marquee filled with voices and laughs rather soon. Your nerves increased as people continued arriving, unable to shake the bad feeling simmering in your stomach.
The more you thought about it, the more sense having a wedding in such unprecedented times made. Bill and Fleur just as their families, could very well be captured or killed at any moment. A gathering like this, though, was beyond your logical understanding.
He was sure you liked his brother, although he didn’t understand why when he had always been slightly more handsome, but that didn’t stop Fred from approaching you.
“Would you like to dance?”
You turned around to acknowledge him. “I would.”
He offered his hand staring intently at you as you placed your palm on top of his. He took a shaky breath in and guided you to the dancing area.
“I’m Fred, by the way,” he felt the need to let you know.
“I am aware.”
Tilting his head, he halted his steps on a spot away from his mom.
You explained, “You have a scar on your left eyebrow.”
Impressed, Fred placed a hand on your waist to lead you. In answer you rested your other hand on his shoulder, looking just past it.
Harry seemed to be annoyed by something —or someone— which made you believe he had seen or heard something suspicious.
“Is there someone you would rather be dancing with behind me?”
You shook your head, dragging your eyes back to Fred. “Of course not. I’m just being— oh, Merlin, what’s that word? Worried? No, no. Cuidadosa... cautelosa podría ser... Madre de Dios, ¿cómo se dice en inglés?”
[Careful... it could be cautious... Mother of God, how do you say it in English?]
The couple closest to you stared in confusion as you kept going. “¿Meticulosa? No, eso no tiene sentido... cuidadosa, sí. Lo cual es lo mismo que cautelosa pero cómo se dice...”
[Meticulous? No, that doesn’t make sense. Careful, yes. Which is the same as cautious but how do you say it...]
Fred pursed his lips at your language switch. Your accents were different in each one which caught his attention. He wanted to know why, if you had learned them both at the same time, or which one was your native language.
Entertaining the sad idea that you might have been trying to ditch him, he suddenly frowned. “You’re looking for an excuse to leave?”
“No, no!” You whined, sure you had said the word in the past few days. “How is it called when someone is being careful because they are worried? It starts with a W.”
“...wary?”
You could’ve kissed him. “Yes, that one!”
With a lingering laugh in his voice, he tried to reason with you, “Well, Bill and Fleur didn’t invite many people.”
“No, but polyjuice exists. I could be a Death Eater disguised as me and you wouldn’t have noticed.”
“That accent wouldn’t be easy to mimic, don’t worry.”
“It’s easier to understand than some I’ve heard around here,” you defended yourself, not offended at all by his comment.
A light irrupted into the marquee and you immediately knew whose Patronus it was.
Kingsley’s message proved you right and triggered panic as mayhem all over the place ensued. You pulled your wand out, looking around to see how many people were left.
Leaving would have been a good idea, but too many invitees had fled already and it would bring more trouble to The Weasley Family.
Not unfamiliar with their scare tactics, you did your best to remain calm as the Death Eaters questioned the family.
You admired how unfazed they tried to appear as their house was inspected. They must’ve been expecting the visit for days now.
“I’ll prepare tea,” Mrs. Weasley shakily said.
“Let me do it,” you mumbled, waving your wand as Bill helped his mother to sit down.
Mr. Weasley leaned over, reminding you to drop a splash of firewhiskey in his wife’s tea through a whisper. Nodding, you did as you were told and carried the cup toward the living room.
“You are staying, right, (Y/N)?” Mr. Weasley asked as you waved your wand to pour a cup of tea for Fleur’s mom.
“I don’t want to impose,” you assured them, “I can manage on my own — it would be safer for everyone.”
“I would feel better if you stayed,” Mr. Weasley sighed, “Everyone here would.”
“Kingsley said—“
“I’ll talk to him,” he interrupted.
You turned to look at everyone else, but no one added any other comment.
You couldn’t sleep. The room wasn’t the problem, nor the accommodations The Weasleys had given you — everything else was. People were disappearing at a worryingly exponential rate, and you couldn’t shake off the guilt of not being out there helping in some way.
❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎
The Weasleys would surely be watched carefully and suddenly leaving The Burrow in the middle of the night would put a bigger target on them.
You leaned onto the doorframe, watching the rain as it slowly fell down the garden. Grown used to the unruly weather such times had brought, you were trying to find pleasant parts in it like its smell and soothing sound.
“Can’t sleep either?”
You craned your neck to look at Fred. He rubbed his eye with his right hand as he held a glass of water in his left.
“The weather is nice.”
Humming, he chugged the water down. Instead of going back to sleep, he pulled a chair out and then another. Fred sat down on the second one, waiting for you to take the other.
You did so, thanking him in a nod. The kitchen, only illuminated by the fading light the lamps outside gave, felt bigger than it was.
“Is Ginny giving you trouble?”
“No,” you answered immediately. His sister was lovely, she kept mostly to herself which you understood but on occasions, she would ask about which other jobs you had done for The Order.
You learned she wanted to join The Order more than anything. She would also talk highly of her siblings, even teasing you when you asked more about Fred.
Your dance had been cut off, so had the conversation. You had enjoyed yourself for once, of course you would want to know more about him.
After watching him from afar for an entire summer, you had imagined that not stuttering around him was progress. But you were at war, and war didn’t give time for getting to know people you’ve been crushing on for a while.
He took you out of your self-absorption, “You said it would be safer if you didn’t stay here. Why?”
Ah, that. “I have history with... them.”
You didn’t explain yourself further on and Fred sensed he shouldn’t press on it for now.
He opened his mouth to make a joke and lighten up the mood, but you spoke first, “Do you think muggles will have enough help?”
No, he didn’t think so. However, Fred didn’t have the heart to tell you that. “There are a handful of good witches and wizards out there still.”
You nodded. Good witches and wizards' existence wouldn’t make a difference if they didn’t act on it, but for some reason, you didn’t have the heart to tell him that.
He would surely be able to take it, he probably knew it already — but you didn’t want to say it out loud either way.
Fred placed a hand on top of yours, squeezing it. You must’ve looked like you needed comfort. Lifting your fingers so his own would fit between them, you gripped his.
The Kitchen started appearing clearer as the blue light of the early morning entered through the door and windows.
Under the blue tones, Fred’s eyebrow scar looked clearer. You could’ve counted his freckles if you had enough time. But you couldn’t, Mrs. Weasley would need help around the house at any minute.
Deciding it was better to go get ready for the day, you begrudgingly withdrew your hand. Fred’s eyes danced over your face, trying to assess what you would do next.
“Thank you for the company,” you whispered, not taking your eyes off his face either.
His eyes dropped to your lips only to go back to your eyes. Clearing his throat, he nodded, “No problem.”
❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎
More people were reported as disappeared as the weeks progressed. Your worries only increased as news from members of The Order got more sporadic — it was safer that way, and detrimental to your mental wellbeing.
You had the bedroom for yourself now. Ginny had taken The Hogwarts’ Express a couple of weeks ago. She had been upset, but not more than her family with the number of changes the school seemingly had made.
You wondered how Ilvermorny was doing.
Although you were living with four people, you didn’t talk much to them. Mr. Weasley was overwhelmed with work constantly, Mrs. Weasley tried to keep herself busy around the house, Fred and George had a shop to attend and sporadically helped their friend Lee with Potterwatch.
As for yourself, you were able to help The Order here and there. Nothing too extreme so you wouldn’t gain unnecessary attention and put The Weasleys in more danger. That was why you hadn’t wanted to stay there.
“I would use Ginny’s bed if I were you,” Fred said from the doorway, surprised to see you hadn’t locked yourself that afternoon.
You put the clothes you had been folding to the side and looked up at him. “That would be invasive.”
“And funny. May I?”
You nodded. It was his house after all.
Fred did sit on Ginny’s bed, amused by what he was seeing. You supposed he wasn’t granted entrance that often.
He and George had an unspoken pact with their little sister, she didn’t try to sneak into their room and they wouldn’t threaten her privacy. It was great, but Fred had always been curious.
More curious he was as to what was going on with you. Mrs. Weasley had sent George to ask you if you needed anything and not him, probably because everyone considered his brother as the sensitive one.
“Mum’s worried.”
“I’m fine.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “When did I say she was worried about you?”
“Why else would you tell me?”
“To chat.”
You tilted your head. He was funny, but not a very good liar.
“You look really sad.”
“I feel useless,” you confessed, smoothing the sleeves of an old t-shirt. “I was supposed to become an Auror this year.” Sighing, you shook your head, “God, I sound entitled...”
“Aurors aren’t particularly safe at the moment.”
“Much less if there isn’t enough of them.”
Fred leaned over, resting his elbows on his thighs. “Why do you want to be one? It sounds like too much work.”
You shrugged, not sure anymore. You liked the idea of doing the right thing, being able to ensure people were safe and evil was kept in check... but doing it for a ministry didn’t sound like something you could do.
“It’s different in America,” you explained, pulling a pair of socks from the freshly done laundry. “Not better, I’ll admit that, just different. MACUSA didn’t stop taking on aurors, for example.”
“That doesn’t answer the question.”
The socks in your grasp fell to your lap. “I wanted to be ready for the moment when I had to fight them again.”
Silence fell between you. Fred’s eyes were on you like they seemed to always be since you arrived. There was no pity in his gaze, only understanding.
“I believe you’re still ready.”
“I hope you’re right.”
Fred smirked, “I’m always right.” He made a pause, slanting his head to the side. “Almost always.”
You chuckled. “Who said that?”
“I did.”
You had expected him to answer just that and yet you were still amused by the comment. Oh, you were falling quite fast.
And he knew it. There was no doubt in Fred’s mind that you actually liked him and not George. You didn’t stare at George as much as you stared at him nor smiled so brightly when you greeted his brother — you were nice to everyone but you were more comfortable with him and Fred really liked that.
He took your hands, making you stand up as he did the same. You liked the difference in size and how his hands didn’t feel soft like most people expected their crushes’ hands to be but warmer than any other hand you had taken.
Someone cleared their throat from the doorway. George stuck his head into the room. “Dinner.”
Fred nodded, “We’ll be there in a minute.”
George pursed his lips, lifting both eyebrows. He still left you alone, reminding both of you to not take too long.
This was his best chance. Fred leaned over, capturing your lips in a short kiss. You slid one of your hands off his grasp to place it on the back of his head, pulling him into another kiss. His free hand rested on your hip as you tilted your head to kiss him more comfortably.
“I can’t take you out right now...” he sighed, lips still brushing yours as your eyes barely fluttered open, “but maybe we could have a picnic when everybody is asleep?”
You smiled at him. “I’d like that.”
George shook you and Ginny awake. “Get up, we don’t have much time!”
You were up in a second. “What’s wrong? Where’s Fred?”
“Packing.” George pointed his wand at Ginny’s trunk.
“Where are we going?” Ginny asked, rubbing her eyes as you made George turn around so you could get changed.
“Somewhere safer. Death Eaters know we’ve been helping Harry.”
“I can’t go with y—“
“Just shut up and hurry,” George interrupted you, voice softer than one would expect those words to come out of anyone’s mouth.
Ginny and you would be the first ones to be gotten out of The Burrow. The others could take hours to join you or days, whichever was safer.
“We’ll need you and your training more than ever, (Y/N),” Mr. Weasley reminded you.
You cast a glance towards Ginny who was blinking furiously while bouncing her leg.
You nodded at Fred, silently assuring him you would protect his sister. He nodded back, not doubting it for a second.
Aunt Muriel was a weird woman. Clearly not a bad person, but perhaps an entitled one. Ginny had already told you to not take anything she said personally, but you hadn’t understood the warning until she made a comment about the color of your pajamas.
It didn’t take many days for the family to be as complete as it could. From what you knew, Charlie was still in Romania and no one had news of Percy. You had never met the latter but Fred had lengthily complained about him.
Speaking about Fred, he and George had packed more than Ginny and you for some reason. There were five trunks in their provisional room instead of two.
You asked for permission to enter which Fred granted with an enthusiastic nod. Closing the door behind you as he sat down on the bed, you then approached him.
“Are you okay?”
He nodded, eyes not meeting yours. “Can you... talk to me in Spanish or something?” Seeing your confusion, he abashedly explained, “It calms me.”
In the five months you had been together, Fred had never really reacted to your babbling in Spanish. You had assumed he was just unfazed, but his explanation made more sense.
You sat down next to him, placing a hand on his upper back. “Do you want a story?”
He nodded, “Anything.”
Fred laid down, curled up as his head rested on your lap. He listened attentively, wishing he could understand everything you were saying.
Maybe when the war was over you could teach him Spanish.
❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎
Oh fuck. Turns out wounds not only hurt but stung — you had forgotten the last time you had been injured, probably that time Moody made you sneak into that shop in Knockturn Alley to look for an artifact.
“What were you thinking?!” Fred screeched, pushing Percy, who had been the one to move you to a safer spot, to the side to kneel beside you.
You looked at Mrs. Weasley who was battling Yaxley a few meters away from you, visibly desperate to approach her sons. “No mother should lose her child. My family is already dea—“
He shushed you, “Don’t.”
You tried to move, uncomfortable by the rubble digging into your back. Palming the ground in search of your wand, you whined.
“Do you need a bandage?”
You gritted your teeth. The pain in your lower stomach was unbearable and Ferula wouldn’t fix it.
“Can you cast healing spells?”
Fred shook his head, applying pressure to your wound.
“You would be a shit Auror.”
He knew you were making light of it, but he didn’t find it in him to laugh. “Tell me what to do.”
“Poke it and—“ you groaned. The hand he had on your stomach was shaking, making the pressure waver.
Your skin was losing color. He looked at Percy, desperate — his know-it-all brother had always been good at every class. He had to know.
Percy approached you, looking at you with sadness before looking at Fred. He was about to say he didn’t know what to do when Harry, Ron, and Hermione arrived to make sure all of you were safe on their way to The Shrieking Shack.
Harry only saw the blood on Fred’s hand and the desperation in his eyes. He had seen the same desperation in yours when you cast a spell that sent Fred flying out.
“I’ve seen Snape doing some type of magic... it puts the blood back in...”
You grunted, trying to nod.
“Is that the one?” Fred asked you.
You could only hum.
Thankfully, Mrs. Weasley was the one who did the spell. As amazing as Harry was, the part of his face you could still see looked terrified. He had enough on his plate already.
She slid her wand under your back, making the rock hurting you disappear. Closing your eyes, you gifted yourself a moment to breathe in and out.
“How come you didn’t know how to do it, Perce?”
You answered instead of Percy, “It’s not part of any school’s curriculum. It should, clearly, but it isn’t.”
“You would know that if you had finished school,” Mrs. Weasley said. You could’ve sworn she did so teasingly.
Innocently, you had thought saving Fred would be enough. As if loss would’ve disappeared from the world because he was safe. It was a nice concept, one you wished could be real for multiple reasons.
People you had considered the closest you had to a family like Nymphadora and Remus being the casualties of the war hadn’t crossed your mind.
It was over. At a high cost like every other war in history, yet you couldn’t believe it.
Fred, who was sat between you and George in The Great Hall, gave you a sideways glance.
He had properly known you for less than a year and you had already made him fear in ways he hadn’t only felt two times before — when Ginny was taken by Riddle to The Chamber of Secrets in his fifth year and when his dad had been attacked in his seventh year.
Dropping his hand on top of yours, he asked, “Do you want to take a walk?”
George turned to surprisedly look at his brother at the same time that you lifted your eyebrows. Your eyes crossed George’s who snickered before going back to his conversation with Lee.
“Sure,” you agreed, standing up.
Fred took your hand, walking aimlessly through the semi-destroyed halls. You could tell it affected him to watch his former school in such estate.
“You scared me.”
“I really didn’t want your mother to go through the loss of a child.”
He stopped the stroll quite abruptly. “So you wanted me to go through the loss of my girlfriend?”
“Fred...”
He shook his head, sliding his hand off yours to pass it through his hair. You didn’t know how it felt like, you hadn’t been the one watching their loved one bleed out in the middle of a battle.
He would’ve lost everything he had always wanted to have in a partner. Never had he imagined you would be so supportive of him, yet you had put up with his and George’s stupid plan of sending products by mail while the family had to hide at aunt Muriel’s and even helped them to package everything.
Everyone in the family liked you. He wouldn’t have cared if they didn’t, but it was nice to know that his partner was appreciated by the other people he loved so dearly.
Seeing a familiar frown on his brow, you warned him, “I’m not apologizing for doing it.”
Fred exploded. “What would have I done if something had happened to you?!” He yelled, using his hands to make emphasis.
You stood straighter, yelling back at him. “And what would have I done if that wall had collapsed on you?! Did you want me to stand there and watch?!”
Fred stayed silent which prompted you to add, in a softer tone, “It’s done, and it turned out okay.”
“It almost didn’t.”
“But it did,” you insisted.
His shoulders dropped. You were right, and bruised — but safe. The worst part was over already, he should have been focusing on that.
“You need to work on your anger issues,” you pointed out.
“And you need to stop throwing yourself into danger.”
You held your hands out for him to take. Fred opted for pulling you into a tight hug. The dust on his top itched your nose, but you didn’t have it in you to complain and instead hugged him back.
“I don’t want to live without you.”
”You’re everything I have left,” you mumbled on his chest, grimacing at the flavor of the dust clinging to your lips. “I mean, that includes your family and The Order, but you get what I mean.”
Humming, Fred rested his chin on the top of your head.
“My family really likes you. I think I’ll get disowned if I don’t marry you.”
“Is this your way of proposing?”
“Depends.”
“On?”
“Your answer, honestly. Don’t wanna look like a moron.”
Pushing him off to both look at him and have a break from the dust and grime on his clothes, you held him by the waist. Fred was serious, there was no mischief in his eyes as he waited for your answer.
“Well... I don’t want you to get disowned,” you joked, more nervous than you should have been. It was just him!
“And how else would I outdo Bill if it isn’t by marrying you?” he joked back.
Caressing his cheek, you nodded in agreement as a smile crept into your face. You were sure you would beam the same way Fleur had.
#fred weasley x reader#fred weasley x plus size reader#plus size reader#plus size fanfiction#harry potter x reader#harry potter x plus size reader#fred weasley#wizarding world#wizarding world x reader#wizarding world x plus size reader
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The Royal Report– A Crown of Candy Ep 7 Escape From the Bulb Creeps
Journey to the Past
We are fresh on the heels of the deaths of both Lapin and Peppermint Preston (Reeces in Pieces) but there’s no time to mourn because the remaining 5 PCs (Zac is absent all episode) are all fugitives of both church and state. With everyone stunned and out of sorts, Jet takes the lead and begins running towards the alleyway she banished Thad to several episodes ago on a goof turned escape plan. And none of the adults have a better plan so they follow her without argument or question. Ruby sends Yak up to help scout and, as they’re running, each of the group have flashbacks to simpler times:
Ruby: Ruby sees herself practicing acrobatics on the castle walls having just seen the Swirler Sisters perform. Her mom makes her come down and scolds her for not taking her princess duties seriously. Royal life is hard enough without her making it harder with her flights of fancy and she should be training to be ready for it.
Amethar: Amethar sees himself at the Stone Candy Mountain mid-war with his four sisters who have just got the news that he married Katherine Ghee--his dairy wife we learned about 2 eps ago. His oldest sister--General Rococoa--is livid about the shortsightedness and political implications of him marrying a commoner. St. Citrina, the third sister, comforts Amethar and says that if he really loves her, the marriage should stand. The youngest sister, Princess Sapphria, is chill about the whole thing and thinks (1) it won’t matter since he’s so far down in the line of succession and (2) he should have a good time if he wants to. Something ~crazy~ would have to happen for Amethar to ever get the throne so it would be *stupid* to waste time worrying about. (Thousand yard stare.) Lazuli shows up and is very fuzzy on where in the timeline they are--showing her background as a divination wizard--before congratulating Amethar on his marriage. Rococoa wants the marriage annulled and Citrina says that, for that to happen, Amethar and Katherine would need to be in the same place with the priest who performed the ceremony--Father Belford. They can take care of it after the war if Amethar wants. In the meantime, they tell their dad *nothing*.
Liam: It’s Liam’s 14th b-day and he’s still living with his dad (Joren Jawbreaker) and his mom (Spearia Mentha--a cool Vegetanian hippie woman) and his 35 other moms and dads (polygamy is big in the Sweetening Path apparently). His dad shows up and has trouble remembering his name but does present him Preston as a pet which he’s pretty stoked about. Afterwards, he meets up with his mom who says that his entire extended family talked about his going to Castle Candy as a ward/political prisoner and have decided that he can, but that he should be careful. The outside world isn’t as accepting of other spirits and ideas. Back in the present, Liam feels something dark inside him grow with the loss of Preston. Ice creeps up on his crossbow and his magic changes (mechanically speaking, he has gone from a Beastmaster to a Gloomstalker Ranger).
Theo: It’s Theo’s first day on the job as Lazuli’s ward and, after getting some business done (including a short conversation with a cotton candy monk who seemed suspiciously fleshed out to just be a random NPC) she turns to him and asks his opinion on non-sanctioned magic. Theo (who insists on addressing her by all of her titles) says that magic has never been his thing. He doesn’t have the mind for it. Lazuli takes issue with that assertion and Theo is forced to consider that he might be limiting himself for no reason. Lazuli says that she’s realizing that magic is a lot bigger and unknowable than conventional wisdom suggests and then Theo runs off to fetch her more parchment.
Jet: Jet is 14 and practicing fencing with Calroy. He gets the point with a fencing dagger (which is apparently a thing, confirmed by my one friend who fences) before they ease into a conversation about politics. Calroy asks her if she sees herself challenging convention and we all know Who Jet Is As a Person so her answer (big yes) isn’t surprising. What’s slightly more surprising is that Calroy candidly agrees with her that change is good and needed. A lot of people would love change but most of them aren’t situated in such a way that they have the power to bring about any. Calroy says he looks forward to her reign and they continue sparring.
Back to Reality
In the present, church bells toll behind them and Ruby feels a piece of paper fly out from her pocket--it’s the “For Candia” note from Lapin. She grabs it with her Mage Hand and just feels like the worst person on the planet for being mean to Lapin all these years and then watching him give his life for them. He presented as boring and lame but he was a good man.
They all reach the delirious Thad (he’s been in this alley since episode 3) who Jet flirts with to try and get his carriage but Liam circumvents that by getting a Nat 20 to fully knock the dude out. The servants with him flip out but Jet threatens them into running away and, before they can get very far, Ruby casts Sleep on them which drops them. Then, she casts Disguise Self and Prestidigitation so she looks and smells like Thad (we’re also blessed by Siobhan’s ridiculous French accent) and goes out to Thad’s carriage with Jet on her arm, lying to the servants there that Jet has been knocked up and they have to have a shotgun wedding. Her deception check succeeds and the footman declares, “To the cathedral!” NO. Beach wedding! It’s a beach wedding! They all pile into the back of the carriage--Ruby up front since she’s pretending to be Thad--and head out.
While they ride, Liam unsuccessfully tries to cry quietly and Theo eulogizes Lapin and says that what happened to him was no one’s fault. Jet asks Amethar if he had a death wish back in the Cathedral and Amethar, not in so many words, admits that he did. Yak comes back down from scouting and relays that the Glucian Road (the way back to Candia that they came) is about to be absolutely crawling with imperial soldiers. And cutting through Fructerra to the north (the shortest route) is also bad because that’s Plumbeline’s territory and she’s already proven herself untrustworthy. That leaves the “safest” options Brightgarden (basically the Vatican City of this world so not really a place they wanna be right now) and towards the Harbor.
Everyone takes another minute to have a full breakdown--especially Liam who is coming to terms with the fact that he’s gonna have to be a war guy now--and Brennan rolls death saves for Thad (he lives) before they get back to business. If they want to go to the Great Stone Candy Mountain (Where Joren Jawbreaker is), going by sea is faster. Ruby points out that they’ll have to go into the territory of Cordeau (aka, Lord Bleu--the suspicious cheese dude Primsy is lowkey courting) if they go by sea but Theo points out that they’re F’d no matter where they go so they lock in the plan.
A Fun Boat Ride
Once they get to the docks, Brennan points out that none of them have sailing proficiency (Emily: I have tarot cards) so if they just grab a ship with no crew, they’re for sure gonna die. They’d previously asked Calroy to ready a ship for them but they have no idea if that happened and they don’t have a way to ask him. The only ship they recognize in the harbor is The Colby--Annabelle’s ship. And, what do you know? She’s on the ship at that very moment, officiating a wedding for Primsy and Lord Bleu. The dude works fast.
Theo sees that they’re casting off soon and also that Morris Brie is walking around all agitated and worried--looking for Manta Ray Jack they guess. Liam casts Pass Without Trace and Amethar gets a Nat 20 to open one of the cargo crates they’re going to load onto the ship so they can hide inside (leaving Yak and Sprinkle outside to be their eyes). While they’re in there, they hear Primsy and Bleu talking and learn that he’s gonna be following behind in his own ship (since he’s captain) and they’ll meet back in Lacramor. We also learn later that his ship is called the Dairy Heir because Brennan was put on this earth to test me.
Ruby hears that Morris Brie is still walking around all worried and decides to Message him in Lacra. “Manta Ray is Captured. The House of Rocks has Fallen. All is Lost. Help.” She calls herself a friend and, on a 20 Persuasion, Brie thinks she’s a spirit. She tells him where Jack is and calls him a good man when he agrees to check.
Brennan rolls for an unspecified thing in front of the board--saying they need an 11 or higher and want a 15--and gets a 12.
The ship is held for a while, long enough that they’re loaded into the cargo hold, and Brennan narrates everything that happens from the eyes of Yak and Sprinkle (bending the rules a bit so everyone gets the benefit of knowing how Ruby’s clutch move played out):
Annabelle is agitated, waiting for Brie and Manta Ray so they can ship off. A messenger comes to her with the information that the Emperor is dead, Candia is at war with the Concord, and Amethar has been excommunicated. Primsy, who is technically in charge, reacts exactly how any sane 16 y/o would--she has absolutely no idea what to do. Another messenger shows up with a bloody letter (and, sidenote, I need Brennan to stop cursing us with detailed info on how various food people bleed. It’s extremely unsettling) from Brie which she reads and before deciding to ship off immediately.
The Candians decide to stay hidden for an hour which is good because 30 mins later, the ship is stopped and boarded by imperials (lead by Grissini). They check the barrels but not the crates because no one would be able to open them. Well, no one except Amethar on a Nat 20. They’re not found and the imperials leave.
After the hour is up, Ruby can see through Yak that there aren’t any ships except for the dairy ones escorting Primsy back home and there are only about 12 people on the Colby. There’s a long discussion about the best strategy--Should they go up or call someone down? Should they talk to Primsy or Annabelle? Should Jet volunteer as a hostage?--before Ruby makes an executive decision and decides to Message Primsy.
“Primsy, I invoke the friendship of House Rocks and House Lacra.”
On a 20 persuasion check, Primsy, like Brie, thinks she’s a fairy or a spirit, which she is childishly excited about. Ruby says that if she comes to the hold, she’ll show her a secret and Primsy, who has apparently never seen a horror movie before in her life, comes right down. To her credit, she does ask if she can bring Annabelle, but Ruby says no. But that doesn’t deter her. Once she’s down there, Theo, who also has the Message cantrip, says, “Don’t scream, no matter what you see,” which is absolutely the worst thing he could have said and, on a 3 Persuasion--plus Amethar bursting out of the crate to try to show her she’s among friends, Primsy has the correct reaction which is to scream bloody murder, calling down basically everyone, including Annabelle.
Everyone throws down their weapons (Jet just stows hers in her back pockets) and Liam tries to hide but gets a Nat 1. Annabelle is, of course, furious that they’d stow away while fugitives, endangering them all but Ruby is able to slightly charm her (non-magically) and she reveals that the letter she received before says that Brie rescued Manta Ray and they’re hiding in Comida. Ruby is relieved her plan worked and, when Annabelle scoffs at her for taking credit for the work of the spirits, hits her with a Message to prove her abilities. Annabelle seems taken aback that, even while wanted fugitives of basically the entire world, Ruby would take any of her precious time to help Manta Ray. “[He’s] a good man,” Ruby responds, as if the decision took no thought at all. Primsy comforts Liam as he breaks down over the loss of Lapin and Preston again.
Brennan has everyone do a group persuasion check where only one of them cracks a 15. Annabelle and Co. are really in a terrible position here. These are their allies but they’re also being hunted right now and the Dairy Islands really cannot afford to be at war with the Concord. Helping them would be tantamount to a declaration of war. “Please don’t make us make you,” Ruby says. Annabelle scoffs that even if they kill her, either her crew would kill them or they’d kill the crew then die at sea. Ruby apologizes for the empty threat and says she’s just scared.
Annabelle decides that they can’t help them but they also don’t have to fight them. They’ll take them to Lacramor as prisoners and then assemble a council to figure out what to do with them. In the meantime, they’ll be clothed and fed and brought to a room without chains. The Candians, who don’t really have a ton of options here, agree.
Sacre Bleu
Soon after they’re situated (they get a short rest here), Primsy invites them to the Captain’s Quarters (which she shares with Annabelle) for tea. She doesn’t allow herself to say anything that would jeopardize her country’s position, but she seems very much on their side and confident this will be sorted out once they land and the council discusses it. She’s also excited for them to meet Lord Bleu, which they’re...less enthused about.
Ruby tries to get it into her head that she’s a strong, independent woman who doesn’t have to just do whatever he says--or even what Annabelle says--but it seems that Bleu has gotten to her first because Primsy says that he tells her that too and that he’s right about everything. Theo asks if he has any enemies in his house and she says no, confused about why he would ask. Jet decides to fully let the cat out of the bag and says that someone from Bleu’s house attacked them. Primsy, with shockingly little genre savviness, says that there have been a lot of deaths in Bleu’s family to get him to the place in the line of succession that he is and that they did get a letter from Plumbeline saying that Amethar would probably be named successor but if not him then it would probably be her. And if anything happens to her, guess who’s suddenly in charge? None other than Lord Consort Cheddar, aka Bleu. Theo tries to tell Primsy to watch her back but, on a 2 Charisma check, he just pisses off yet another House Cheddar lady and Primsy leaves for the Crow’s Nest to catch a glimpse of her new husband on his ship. On a Nat 20, Jet stealths behind her to protect her.
Liam goes to find Annabelle to try and convince her to drop them off at the Candy Mountain instead of Lacramor. He starts well with a compliment (“Your haircut looks fresh”) before trying to pimp out his harem of parents in exchange for the ride and rolling a 4 Persuasion. Liam submits to the slap he knows is coming--but it misses due to Ruby’s Hex giving her disadvantage and making her take her Nat 1 instead of her Nat 20. As she stumbles forward, she notices something in the distance and walks off to check on it, Liam following behind her.
Brennan has Murph make three mystery luck checks in the box of doom because he is the enemy and Murph rolls a 7, 16, and a 14. For Murph, pretty good!
They’re just about at the Yogurt Shoals (Bleu territory, you’ll remember) and they notice that all the other ships except for the two house Bleu ones have veered off in another direction.
It starts to rain milk (Brennan seems to indicate that’s what the 7 roll was) and Annabelle yells at Primsy to come down from the crow’s nest. Primsy notices that the other ships are gone right as arrows start to fire from the Bleu ships to hers. Jet, at once, shields Primsy from the barrage.
Annabelle tries to get them out of there in a hurry but finds the sails are damaged and the House Bleu ships sidle up along the Colby and pull a Ben-Hur, tearing up the sides of the ship until it begins to sink. Everyone roll initiative!
Also, it’s Zac’s Birthday.
Happy Birthday Zac.
Medal of Honor
Gotta give out our first double medal of honor this episode, fittingly, to the twins who were on fire this whole episode.
At the top of the episode when no one else knew what to do, Jet took the reins and picked a plan and everyone else was swayed by her force of will and didn’t even ask any questions. And then later, when Theo fumbled his diplomacy, she again acted on impulse and put herself in the perfect position to protect Primsy.
And then Ruby--in the talkback, they said they were talking about “Ruby’s Big Day” which was great because so was I in my head. Taking her magic--the very thing that put her in so much danger--and turning it to their greatest asset with the clutch disguise and then using the hell out of the Message Cantrip? Lapin has been dead for less than a day and she’ll already taken the position of party Face.
Very Galaxy Brained moves from our girls this ep.
Sunny Side Up
The immediacy of the “Do you think she’s gonna get off?” response from Ally was like they’d been waiting their entire life to make that specific joke.
Also on the topic of Ally just literally saying anything, watching everyone break as Liam described the game “Stairs” was an experience. And Brennan having to react to that as a parent and acknowledge it was full abuse gave me shades of Kristen talking about all the cult literature in her family’s house that Brennan was hearing about for the first time in that moment.
The whole sequence in the alley with Thad was such a perfect moment of catharsis after the heaviness of everything else. That, “Point with my hand or?” Siobhan’s French accent. Liam hitting a Nat 20 to knock Thad TF out. Everyone coming up with plans on the spot on top of each other and the big, “NO!” after Brennan’s, “To the cathedral!” The rubberband needed to snap back to comedy for a bit after last week and all those flashbacks and they did it perfectly here.
Jet already having a “Bastard Jet” tattoo and Murph improvising that she made him do it with a cantrip.
“Advantage for boldness and disadvantage for madness.”
Things I’m Concerned About
Short list this week because the answer is basically “everything”.
Brennan. Brennan, if anything happens to Primsy...I know that this is all pre-recorded and whatever happened already happened but if Primsy is hurt in any way...Brennan…
Very interesting that the Pontifex OK’d the wedding of Primsy and Bleu basically immediately while all manner of insanity was going on but couldn’t find the time to get the emperor paperwork filled out. And by interesting I mean she’s a snake.
A big ocean battle after only a short rest? With no healer? Don’t care for that one bit.
I would not want to be Katherine Ghee right now. Idk what she’s doing but if she’s alive and well, I have to assume her life is about to be filled with BS.
Liam’s rage (which he talked to Amethar about) seems like the kind of thing that becomes a problem either for poor decision making reasons or literal communing with evil spirits reasons. So I’m for sure monitoring that situation, just in case.
Understandably, the gang wasn’t able to go for their allies this episode, but that puts them in a BAD position to put it mildly. If Calroy did ready that ship, it’s possible that at least some of the rest of the Candians will be able to get out once they hear the news. Fingers crossed for those guys but it would be a fittingly brutal story move if all the fun, tutorial level NPCs just get executed now that we’ve left the starting area (which already was pretty brutal to be sure).
Five More Things
It took me saying the episode title out loud while writing this recap to understand that it was a Bloodkeep reference. I was like, what a weird thing to call an ep. It doesn’t fit the titling conventions for this show at all.
Loved getting to see Amethar with all his sisters, even with the ouchiness of knowing how that all panned out. I especially liked Citrina as a foil for the Pontifex. If the Bulb is nothing but raw power divorced from morality then it’s nice to see someone who has a connection to that power using it in the name of love.
Theo continuing to use everyone's titles even after all that happened is so true to character. Also: “Call me Bastard Jet.”/”As you wish, your highness.”
Zac’s character didn’t show up this ep so I’m very curious when it’s gonna happen. It could happen in the battle ep--some rando helping you mid life or death battle would give very wary people a reason to trust a stranger--but it seems more plausible it would happen next story ep. I wonder if that cotton candy monk mentioned is gonna be his next character. I wonder if it’s gonna be a candy person at all.
Listening to Ruby and Theo talk about how mean they were to Lapin and how guilty they felt about it was A Lot. Like, we only had him for 6 episodes but they have an entire lifetime of history with the dude and Murph and Siobhan really made that hit home in their tiny moments. It was A Lot.
Also! This has nothing to do with Crown of Candy and it’s circulated a bunch already, deservedly so, but I wanna shout out this hilarious Fantasy High animatic by @morikorii. Super happy we’re starting to get kickass animatics for D20 stuff from crazy talented artists.
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Survey #430
“when the girl in the corner is everyone’s woman, she could kill you with a wink of her eye”
What kind of dog do you find most ugly? What a mean question. ;-; I don't think they're ugly, but I probably find chihuahuas to be the least visually appealing.
Do you like wood floors or carpet better? Wood.
Do you think the USA bullies other countries? Quite frankly, yes.
Are you currently in love right now? No.
Favorite fast food joint? Sonic.
What would you do if your ex contacted you? THE ex, have a panic attack. Cry. Be wordlessly ecstatic. Be scared and confused.
Do you still have feelings for your ex? Two, yes, but one is unrealistic considering I have no idea who he is anymore. It's been way too long for me to possibly, accurately like him.
Ever tasted a flavored condom? No.
Do you know CPR? No.
How much do you care about your best friend? I'd die for her.
Do you watch Dr. Phil? No.
What age would you like to have a child? I don't want kids ever.
Are your parents wealthy? Mom, absolutely not. Dad seems to be financially stable, but not wealthy or anything.
Pick one state you’d love to live in? Alaska.
How many pets do you want? And of what? Man, I want a LOT. I know I want more ball python morphs, a plains hognose, a woma python, numerous tarantulas, a fat-tailed gecko, a boa, orchid mantises, a sphynx, a tegu would be super cool... I'd love to have like an empire of pets one day, aha, but only so long as I could maintain them all and adequately provide for them.
Have you ever asked someone out? Yes.
When do you want to get married? I mean, I don't have a set age in mind. I want to get married when I'm ready.
Can you play a musical instrument? I played the flute for yeeeaaaars in middle and high school, but I remember almost nothing by now.
What if you stopped orgasming for the rest of your life? Idc, honestly.
Does money make you happy? Money probably makes me happier than it should, but I'm not like madly in love with it or anything. Happens when you're poor your whole life.
Your favorite breakfast food? Ugh, cinnamon rolls are a godsend.
When was the last time you went to a funeral? I actually don't think I've ever been to one... only wakes. I really, really wish I could have gone to Jason's mom's, though... There was just no fucking way that I was going to risk upsetting Jason on THAT day of all days by popping up.
Have you ever stolen someone’s boyfriend/girlfriend? Well, we never actually dated, but you could say that...
Tell me the date of your first kiss. I don't know the exact date, but it was March 2012.
Are your legs long or short? Normal, I guess?
How many phobias do you have? Man, a lot.
Is there a bookshelf in your room? No.
Do you use the Facebook chat often? Barely at all. I only really use it to chat with Girt on the rare occasion we talk.
Who got you hooked on the addiction you're addicted to (If you have one)? I discovered Mark on my own; I needed help in an Amnesia: The Dark Descent custom story, so I found his playthrough and watched it. Got a few laughs, subscribed. It was Jason who introduced me to Amnesia, though, so I can indirectly thank him, I guess? haha
Are you currently worried about your parents finding out about something? No.
Have you ever lived with a friend? Yeah, for a couple months.
Have you ever only liked someone because you found out they liked you? No.
Ever been on a real diet, or did you just stop eating? I've tried multiple diets.
Have you ever known a white supremacist? I know multiple. Welcome to the South.
Do you like the smell of a barbecue? Yesss. It's funny because I hate the food itself.
Have you ever gone out in public in your pajamas? Yeah. It's not rare, if I'm being honest.
How many times have you been to the ER? Too many times because of being suicidal.
How many people are you currently texting? None.
Anything exciting coming up? My nephew's birthday is in a few days!
Would you rather get money or gift cards for your birthday? Money, so I can use it for anything.
Do you have Instagram? I have three, ha ha. One for my basic photography, another for my morbid photos, and I went through a very short phase of having an Instagram for my pets. It still exists, but I don't really use it.
Have you ever spoken to a detective before? No.
Do you believe in ghosts? Yes.
Do ladders scare you? Yes.
Hot dogs or hamburgers? Cheeseburgers may possibly be my favorite food.
Do you have any tattoos on your arms? I do.
Have you ever owned or known someone who owned a black cat? I've owned plenty of black cats.
What album is the last song you listened to from? It's from Disguise.
What’s the last funny movie you watched? Probably Elf.
Can you remember your parents’ birthdays? Mom's, yes. I only remember the month of my dad's.
If you had to get a tattoo tomorrow, what would you pick? I think I want to get my tribute to Teddy next.
How do you feel about band tattoos? Hey, go for it. I see nothing wrong with it.
What piercing do you like most on the opposite sex? Probably snakebites. Lip piercings in general are hot lmao.
Are you any good at applying make up? Noooo, my hands are so shaky.
How old were the last 3 people you kissed? Sara's 23; idr the exact ages of Girt and Tyler. I think Tyler was a year younger than me, and Girt is at the bare minimum three years older than me.
If you found out you got someone pregnant, what would you do? Well, I'm a cisgender female, so...
Do you ever wonder what your ex is up to? Very frequently.
Do you like your cell phone? I mean it's fine, but I'd like a new one.
Is rap your favorite genre of music? No, it's actually my least favorite.
Have you ever thrown up on anybody? Oh god, no.
Do people think you’re happy? I think it's safe to say most people who know me know I'm clinically depressed. Or you know... maybe not. Quite a few people have been surprised to learn that about me because I can put on a good facade.
What band would you stand in line for 24 hours to see? None, honestly. That's way too long.
What was your worst childhood experience? I guess my dad's alcoholism. As a child, I thought it was a normal thing, but I do wonder if my fear of men has anything to do with how volatile drinking had a 50/50 chance of making him. He never hurt anyone, but he was just so mad and hateful towards the world sometimes.
You can trade another person’s emotions for your own. Whose do you take? I have no idea.
What was/is going to be your first waltz at your wedding? That'll depend on my partner and what song means the most to us/fits us best. "When It's Love" by Van Halen has been a consideration for forever, though.
When it’s not summer, what do you miss most about it? I hate summer. I miss nothing about it.
Do you consider yourself patriotic? No.
What is the one thing that you need to do to die happy? Feel like I accomplished something notable.
Do you consider yourself mainstream? No.
What’s the riskiest thing you’ve ever done? Overdosing on cold medicine.
What is life’s greatest mystery? Probably from whence we came. Humanity has fished for a definite answer forever.
What was your favourite make-believe game as a kid? Pretending I was a meerkat hiding in a "burrow" that was a blanket fort, ha ha.
Do you try your best at everything? Honestly, no.
Who is your shoulder to cry on? My mom, without fail.
What’s your standard excuse for not doing something? I dunno... it depends on the topic.
Name the most beautiful person you know. As far as physical appearance goes, my friend Alon.
Have you ever been to jail? No.
What is one moment you wish you could have taken a picture of? Sara's face when I surprised her at her house for her birthday. It was absolutely fucking priceless.
What place holds the most memories for you? Jason's house.
Who was your first date? My puppy dog-love middle school bf Aaron. We went with a group of friends to a skating rink. My first one-on-one date was Jason.
What’s the best trip you’ve ever been on? The zoo in 5th grade. It's the one and only time I've seen meerkats. For some weird reason, our zoo moved the meerkats not long after that visit. I THINK they said the environment just wasn't suitable for them, which I never really got... I think they mentioned the cold, but like, you have heating for them, and also, have you ever experienced a desert night? You consider all the other areas that have meerkats in their zoos and it's like... why, man. Bring my meerkats back. ;_;
What do you think the earth will look like in 1,000 years? Oh dear God, I do NOT want to visualize that. My gut tells me it'll be a wasteland, probably without humans or most forms of life we have now. We have to get our shit straight, so very badly. I could rant for hours about how horribly and ungratefully we abuse our planet.
Who makes you happy to be around? Sara! I feel like I can be my 100% authentic self, and we just vibe really well together. Like every time I've been there and she here, our friendship felt so natural and chill. I really, really need to save up for another trip up there.
What secret have you tried to hide but it got out anyway? I kept the Joel situation to myself from pretty much everyone, but it eventually came out in front of Mom and Jason. It was actually the night of the breakup; I don't remember how it was relevant at all to mention, but I did in some form. Mom wisely never asked about it, and Jason obviously didn't. I was a stupid 12-year-old anyway, it's whatever now.
Who/what is your everything? I will never. Ever. In five billion millennia. Let anyone be that again.
How many people have you turned down when they asked you out? Ummm three? I think that's it.
How many exes do you have? If I include everyone who ever had a title of "boyfriend/girlfriend," I have six.
Who was your worst relationship with? Tyler. It was just pointless and the result of nothing but loneliness.
What’s your ‘label’? (ex. punk, prep) I really, really don't care.
Do you swear? How much? Like a sailor. I swore some beforehand, but I got really bad when Jason and I started dating. He swore a lot, and his mother did even more. I was around them as much as possible, so it rubbed off on me.
What is the one thing that would make everything in your life fall apart? Losing my family, like being disowned or something like that. Especially when it comes to Mom. I rely on her so heavily, as much as I hate that. :/
What takes your breath away? Nature is very capable of that. Something like seeing big waterfalls in the mountains or something would marvel me.
Are you patient? No, honestly.
Are you a good dancer? No. Even when I took dance, I don't think I was great; however, I do think I was pretty skilled at clogging.
Who would you call first in a life-threatening situation (not 911)? My mom.
Who do you miss? Jason and his family, Megan, Alex, Hannia, Emily, Journee... a lot of people.
Do you like snakes? I adore snakes.
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Blood and Gold Part 1
*This is a fic of my own. I have not finished campaign 2 yet but I am being self indulgent and writing because I cannot get enough of Mollymauk. (I refuse to let him be dead!)*
The wind off the river was warm and calming, just like any other day in Marquet.
Merchants bartered and unloaded cargo. Children stopped to gawk at the foreign goods only to be quickly shooed away.
Life here was simple to the untrained eye but for those who knew better, “freedom” came at a cost.
Beginning to climb off the rocks and through the reeds, I realize that my hiding spot is in jeopardy. Stilling, I hope to remain unseen by the guards.
Casting “disguise self”, I make my way to the passenger ship. The price is a steep 300 gold but once I get to the menagerie coast, I can start my new life. Surely, its worth the cost. Hopefully, my sister Yara will keep up the illusion until I’m far enough away…
I limit my time outside the cabin to twice a day to keep up the disguise. The rest of the time I use to plan my next steps. Of course I had never really “worked” before but, I had extensive tutoring and training at the palace which could come in useful. Armed with my bow, a dagger, and my sword, I could become some sort of adventurer! It could be like the stories father used to tell us growing up about the great heroes of the past!
Shrugging it off, I remind myself not to get too carried away. Surely, it would be more reasonable to work in a tavern of some sort…
Suddenly, I am pushed out of my thoughts by my sister’s message,
“(Y/N)! Its me, Yara! I was unable to keep up the act! Father has sent a search party! Be safe”
~~
Even with closed eyes, I can still smell the blood. As quick as the rebellion came and left, the damage was already done. The streets of Ank’Harel were stained red. Noble houses were torn a part and everyone was on edge.
After a week of negotiation, things began to change. Hopefully things would go back to “normal”.
“We will form an alliance! There will be no more bloodshed in this city. We have a duty to the people, Ozai!” commanded the king.
“Yes, of course. There is however, a price for my… compliance” says General Ozai.
“Name it” answered the king, trying to remain prideful.
“Your daughter will marry Omar, He will become the Prince”.
“It will be done”.
I couldn’t breathe.
Omar was just as cruel as his father-if not worse. He was even rumoured to keep many slaves. Surely this man could not ever love let alone be a good husband. I felt sick. As I looked around the room, it spun and no body seemed to care.
~
“I will not hear anymore of this (y/n). My word is final! You will marry Omar! The wedding will be next month and that is that!” yelled the king.
My father almost never yelled, especially not to me. After the rebellion he seemed to be unhinged and there would be no use in arguing. My fate is settled; marry Omar or go far away-and never return…
“I understand” was all I could muster before storming off to my chambers. I grabbed all that I could and made my way to the docks.
~
My eyes shot open as I rose from the hard cot. The ship’s horn bellowed, vibrating the floor and walls of the cabin. Looking over to my window, I could see a huge lighthouse in the shape of the Wild Mother. This is it! This must be Nicodranas! Excited for what this new place has in store, I toss all of my things into my bag and leave the ship for the last time.
~~
I cannot help but feel captivated by the delicate blue hues around me. The air is a beautiful combination of warmth, sea salt, and the smell of cinnamon. Looking over to a bakery, I see freshly made pastries and decide I should indulge myself! Why not?
Before I am able to take my first bite, the heavy presence of guards makes me uneasy. Trying to be stealthy, I make my way into an alley and case “disguise self” for the first time today.
“Hey! I can do that too!” says a cheerful accented voice.
Looking over my shoulder, I see a blue tiefling magically transform into a blond human girl in peasant’s clothing.
“My name is Jester! I’ll keep your secret if you give me your donut!” she says happily eyeing my purchase.
Though she is quite forward, I feel comforted by the tiefling and decide that maybe I shouldn’t be alone anymore.
“Why don’t I just buy us some more then! Oh- and my name is y/n!” I tell her as we walk back to the bakery.
~
Jester can talk nonstop! Normally this would be a little much for me but, having travelled alone for so long, I welcome it. Jester quickly tells me all about the city, her mother, and all the tricks the so called “Traveler” has taught her. Sticking with my plan, I tell her that I am looking for work while in Nicodranas. She happily takes me to her Inn where her mother helps me secure a job. I work hard cleaning up after guests and fetching them any food or drink that they require in exchange for room and board. It is very hard work but, Jester keeps me company most days.
~~
One night as I’m folding tablecloths, I hear a commotion on the stairs. Its Lord Sharpe and he’s livid!
“IF I EVER SEE YOUR DAUGHTER AGAIN I WILL HAVE HER KILLED!”
Oh no! Jester what has she done now!
Trying to stay out of the argument, I look up to see Marion on the staircase with tears streaming down her normally poised face. This was really bad indeed…
~
Making my way up to Jester’s room, I can already hear Marion and Jester.
“But Mama! It was just a joke! Surely he can’t be serious!” whines Jester. She’s completely unaware of the gravity of her actions.
“Lord Sharpe is an extremely powerful man Jester, I don’t think we should take the risk! I think it would be best if you left the city for awhile. Maybe with time things will blow over” says Marion, pushing the hair out of Jester’s face.
Opening the door, I try to aid Marion in convincing Jester to play it safe.
“Jester, your mother is right-I-I’ve seen what men with power can do…” I say cryptically.
Not sensing that Jester is understanding, I take my chances and tell them both my REAL story. I tell them all bout my engagement and how awful the ramifications would have been had I stayed. Who knows, maybe I would’ve been killed one day to give Omar the throne…
“Jester, we can go together, we can keep each other safe from bad guys. I’m sure the Traveler will help us!” I say, trying to persuade her.
“Thank you for telling us this (y/n). You are a true friend. I know you will keep my little sapphire safe!” she says pulling me into a hug.
“It is settled then, we will leave at once!” Jester says.
“Here, this should help you two along” says Marion, placing a rather large coin purse into Jester’s hands. “Be very careful Jester, and try not to play too many tricks!” warns Marion.
~~
Jester had decided that we would search for her long-lost father (whom she had never even met). Not wanting to crush her hopes, I tag along on the mission.
In Port Damali, our “investigation” runs dead. Despite this, we manage to gain a member into our little group. Having noticed our cleric abilities, a half-orc sailor named Fjord offered to travel with us. He tells us that he wishes to enroll at the magic academy in the Dwendalian Empire.
As we lead the coast and travel towards this new Empire, the air become noticeably cooler. The ocean views become obscured by rocky mountain terrain, and I begin to feel anxious for the road ahead.
~
As we arrived at Trostenwald, there was a commotion by the lake. Curiously walking closer, we see a giant water snake and a tiny screaming girl curled in its grasp.
In a matter of seconds, a female monk leaps onto the scene in a flash of blue robes. She begins to pummel the beast with her staff. Seeing as she may need help with killing the snake, the three of us run to help.
Aiming by bow toward the beast, I surprisingly manage to hit it right behind the head. However, before I can get too excited, I realize the beast is far too large for one arrow alone to take it down. The snake angrily strikes at the monk who narrowly dodges the attack.
Fjord runs up to the beast and draws his sword while I prepare another arrow. This time, I aim for the eyes.
Now blinded and confused, the creature is unaware of Fjord’s presence. He quickly begins to cut through the beast’s tough skin, killing it.
As the snake falls to the ground, the crowd erupts with cheers.
Jester runs over to the little girl and quickly casts “cure wounds”. My heart finally slows down knowing that the girl is safe.
“YOU GUYS THAT WAS AWESOME!” yells Jester, waving her hands around.
“Ugh, yeah! That was pretty rad” says the monk. “My name’s Beau by the way”
“Oh! I’m Jester! And this is y/n and Fjord!” says Jester, happily.
“Nice to meet you” I say shyly.
“Are you guys travelling too?” asks Beau.
“Yes, we are making our way north to the Soltryce Academy” says Fjord.
“Ah- the Soltryce Academy you say… No offense but you guys are gonna need some serious coin for that” says the monk, knowingly.
“You don’t say… You wouldn’t happen to know anyone who is hiring, would you?” says the half-orc.
“Well I mean, I was going to do some work for the Baumbach Brewery before this snake thing happened… You’re welcome to tag along if you’d like” offers the monk.
“Hey! That sounds like it could be fun!” says Jester.
~
After living in a palace most of my life, I try not to complain too much about manual labour but this job was BRUTAL. The four of us have done nothing but haul boxes and crates for hours on end. My body was sore and sweaty despite the cool air of Trostenwald.
By the time we got to the Nestled Nook Inn, my body was on autopilot. Not bothering to eat, I head upstairs and crash onto the bed.
~
With an aching body, I finally pull myself out of bed and open the door. I am greeted with the comforting smell of fresh bread and breakfast meats. Sitting down with the rest of the group, I forget my table manners and devour the food placed in front of me.
Not long into breakfast, the little girl’s father from yesterday enters the Inn. Nervously, he makes his way to our table and thanks us graciously. Before leaving, he dumps a hatful of coin onto our table. The coin pile draws much attention so, I rush to divide the pile evenly.
As Jester begins to converse with the table next to us, quick introductions are made. Before I can dwell on the halfling’s odd appearance, two more strange figures make their way noisily through the Inn.
Quickly turning my head in annoyance to the commotion, my heart stops for a moment. Having lived in Marquet all my life, I was used to Tieflings as they were common to see around the city. This lavender one however, was a sight to behold. And Gods was I in trouble…
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I Don’t Need Saving | Chapter One.
Pairing: Superhero!Dean Winchester x Journalist!Reader
Word Count: 6,295.
Warning: Slight mention of violence, minor character death.
Summary: To friends and family he’s known as Dean Winchester, at night he transforms into the Red Hood. The vigilante of the city beating up criminals and saving damsels from danger. Nobody has seen his face, nobody knows his true identity. Except for a few helpful allies. The reader is best friends with Dean for long as she can remember, and head over heels in love with the man. But she doesn’t have mutual feelings for the Red Hood.
However an encounter with the vigilante starts to change her opinion on the hero, and soon, she grows a fascination with him. Somehow she finds herself growing a strange friendship with the vigilante she once was supposed to hate, not realizing it’s someone she knew. Dean, hiding behind the mask of the Red Hood, shows his true feelings for the reader in disguise. Little do they realize both of them are holding a secret from each other that will put them in danger.
*Based upon Jensen Ackles as The Red Hood.
Mary Winchester hated the city. It was no place to raise a child.
It was too loud. People were mean and rude. The streets were filthy and littered with trash. Not to mention, the noise pollution. Drunks singing loud as they could at three in the morning and drivers honking their horns any chance they could get, as if that was going to make traffic run smoother. Her upstairs neighbors when she first move in was a young couple that fought when people should have been sleeping. While all of these factors drove Mary insane for the first handful of months, her boys didn't seem bothered by their surroundings. Dean was born shortly after they moved, and Sammy had turned the city sounds into his own personal lullaby. She’d lived here for four years, and she still wondered why John wanted to move here.
Well...it was the job offer that brought the newly weds here. Both of them were dirt poor with almost no money to their name. Back at home they were living in an apartment that was half the size of their current place when Bobby gave them a call. John had been out of the Marines for over a year and a half, but he hadn't found a steady job. Mary was determined to make all of this work without asking her parents for a single dime.
They made it quite clear they didn't like John. He wasn't "suitable material" for their little girl, her father said when she first started going steady with the man Her mother ushered her to think about other men she would be happy with when she became engaged. There was so many other boys Mary could have fell in love with, why the Winchester boy?
Because Mary loved him. And John loved her. Why couldn't that be enough for her parents to understand? Sure, John was from the lower side of town. He grew up with a single mother after his father left the family without a trace when he was young. John was rough around the edges, but he cared for Mary. He treated her like a queen. What they had together was enough to make them happy for the rest of their lives. But it wasn't enough to pay the bills and keep food stocked up in the fridge. Mary was slowly losing her hope that she could make it through their first year without asking her parents for help, but, like a gift from God, the couple got a break.
Bobby Singer called one afternoon to see how John was doing. Bobby was a family friend that John met in the Marines. Both of them trained and fought together in the war, developing a bond that would last for years to come. Bobby made contact with the young couple to see how they were doing, and to see if John was interested in a job with the police force. Hundreds of miles away from their small little town in Lawrence, Kansas...away from everyone they loved. And far away from Mary’s parents.
The coupled jumped on the opportunity to start their life over again. Everything seemed to have worked out like it was meant to be. Her parents gifted them with a three bedroom apartment in the better part of the city when they broke the news about moving, and how Mary was expecting her first child in late January. Dean came along a few months after they settled into the apartment and got everything exactly how they liked it. John's new career at the police force was going well and Mary was enjoying her new life as a homemaker. Everything seemed perfect...and it was. Except for the city. Mary tried and tried to fall in love with it like John had. But she couldn't stand it. She missed home. She missed having a yard and trees.
Dean was the opposite of his mother, he loved the city. He was only four and yet to see the flaws in the concrete jungle, but from what he could understand, the place was filled with wonders, and he took in every little thing the city had to offer. The sights of buildings that were monstrous compared to his small view on the world. The smells of all sorts of different cuisines from food carts on the corner and family owned restaurants from people wanting to spread their native foods to the city folks. Not to mention the sight of millions of different people that looked different than him. That was something a small town Kansas couldn't offer. Dean couldn't wait for when his little brother would be old enough to see of this for himself, and to be old enough to play in the vast and spacious park that was only a fifteen minute walk from their apartment.
Mary was a bit afraid of how Dean was going to handle the news of becoming a big brother after she found out she was carrying her second child a little after Dean turned three. Mary and John were both only children. They dreaded the thought of Dean becoming angry and upset at the thought of having the attention not be on him as it had been for the first three years of his life. But to their surprise, the little boy seemed overjoyed. Dean loved his new little brother with every fiber of his being. Mary had never knew the bond of sibling love. She only hoped her children could have what she never did. A strong family bond that lasted forever.
"Mommy?" It was a little late into the evening when Mary was disturbed from the evening news she was watching in the living room. She looked away from the news reporter to see her oldest son standing in the hallway, his glasses crooked slightly on his face and eyes squinted from the florescent lights he was still getting used to. "I heard a noise."
"What kind of noise, honey?" Mary asked in a soft voice. She shut off the TV and sat straight up in her seat on the couch. Dean began to make slow footsteps towards. Her son shrugged his shoulders. "Did it sound like people talking? Maybe a car horn?"
Dean shook his head, “It’s in the walls. I hear scratching.”
Mary thought to herself for a moment what could have possibly made scratching sounds inside the wall. But then it hit her. The reason why she hated this place. Rats. Those disgusting, fat creatures with their long claws and thick pink tails. She let out a quiet sigh and got up to her feet, tempting the idea of calling up John at the station to see if he would buy mouse traps on his way home from work for precaution until tomorrow morning. She'd sit down with Mrs. Wilson, the sweet landlord, to see if any other tenants had the same problem and if she might know of a good exterminator to take a look at the possible infestation while Dean was at preschool.
"Well, I can say for sure that it's not a monsters. Monsters don't like the city. There's not enough darkness to snatch kids up." Mary said, walking over to her son and grabbed him by the hand to lead him back his bedroom. "I'll have Daddy call someone to take a look at it tomorrow. Okay?"
“Okay.” Dean mumbled, agreeing with the plan. He slipped back into bed without much trouble, Mary tucked him back in like he had done two hours ago before he slipped out in a half-asleep state. She kneeled down so she was at level with the bed and fell silent for a moment to listen for the sound that had rose her son from his sleep. But nothing. All she heard was the muffled sound of a police siren passing by. “Mommy, what if it’s a person living in the walls?”
Mary felt her lips stretch into smile at her son's wild imagination. She refrained from laughing as she gave him a slightly confused expression. "It's not, honey. Where did that idea come from?"
"Uncle Bobby said he caught someone living in between a person's walls. He said that he was looking for bad kids to grab and eat them." Dean explained, giving his true reason why he had gotten up from bed to bug her. Mary let out a frustrated sigh from what the old kook had told her very impressionable child. "I don't want to get eaten."
“You won’t. I promise. Uncle Bobby was just...telling you a story. There’s nobody living in your walls. They’re just rats.” Mary reassured her son. Dean seemed to have somewhat believed her, but she could still see the apprehension on her son’s face. She wondered what she could do in order to get him to feel better. Looking around, she spotted the new action figures her parents had bought Dean when they visited last month. She grabbed them and placed each one on the nightstand—Batman, Superman, Spider-Man and the Incredible Hulk. The few that she could find. “See these guys? Long as they’re are around, nothing bad is going to happen to you.”
“What about Sammy?” Dean asked. Mary smiled at how he thought of his baby brother sleeping peacefully in the next room. “Who’s gonna protect him?”
“Well…” Mary looked around the room and found Captain America peeking out from underneath the bed. She pulled out the figure and showed it to her son. “He’ll keep an extra eye on Sammy.”
Mary could see the relief cross her son's face when she brought out his favorite toys that he played with every second that he possibly could. Him and John would play for hours with these hunks of plastic. Dean would play the hero as John pretended to be the villain who was trying to take over the world. She had a feeling her son was going to follow in her husband's footsteps in the career department. Dean had a knack for helping people and making sure people were safe. Like father, like son. The child stared at the Captain America action figure for a moment.
“Can I put it in Sammy’s room?” Dean's request was asked in a small and timid voice. He knew his mother was strict when it came to his bedtime and scooted him off to bed whenever he tried to get out. But Mary seemed okay with the idea of letting her son stay up for another few minutes. She had checked on the sixth month old to see that he was peacefully sleeping.
Mary allowed her son to get out of bed one more time tonight to deliver Captain America to the room next door to his to put the four year old's mind at ease. Both of them traveled only a few feet to enter ever so quietly into baby Sam’s room, the only light source besides the hallway light came from the baby giraffe nightlight to help guide their way into the room.
Mary pressed her index finger against her lips when she heard the baby let out a deep breath to follow the rhythmic pattern. Dean quietly made his way into the nursery and to the shelf that Bobby had built himself one afternoon, it was a present after he found out Mary was pregnant with her second child. It was filled with different stuffed animals and baby books Mary remembered reading to Dean when he was small as Sam.
The thought of her son being a baby, small as the one sleeping in the crib felt like it happened a lifetime ago. Children grow up quick, but time felt like it moved so slow at the same time when she thought about it. Soon the boys were going to be going to school before she even realized, and all of this was going to be a distant memory.
She grabbed the action figure from her son's hand and placed it on the very top shelf, making sure it was watching over baby Sammy. When she looked over at Dean to make sure she did a good job, her son broke out into a smile, suddenly seeming to have been filled with relief and happiness that his brother was safe from the fictional monster he thought was crawling inside the walls. Little did she realize there was a monster pacing around the halls outside of her apartment.
+ + +
Mary found herself back in the same spot on the couch she left twenty minutes ago after tucking in her son back into bed and reassuring him that there was no monster hiding in the walls and waiting to eat him. She swore she was going to give that Bobby Singer an earful the next time she saw him about how he spoke to her children. She had a feeling Karen, Bobby's wife, would feel the same way. Hell, she'd probably beat that man with a wooden spoon. But she saved the day from disaster. Mary smiled in the small victory and continued to watch the news, eagerly waiting for the news segment John told to keep an eye out for. Her husband was famous.
A few days ago the police and FBI took down one of the biggest underground crime rings the city had ever seen. Infamous crime boss, Nick something, Mary didn't remember his name, was arrested for a long list of charges that weren't ever going to let him see the day of light again. Drug charges, illegal possession of firearm, prostitution, rape, murder...the list went on for this one man. But Mary forced her husband to stop talking when he admitted that this Nick guy murdered his baby son and wife, but blamed it on a "robber." It didn't matter. Karma got the son of a bitch. Bobby and John were the ones who made the very public arrest.
Mary half-listened to the report about some robbery that happened upstate just this morning. She found her attention drifting away from the TV when she heard the phone start to ring, which was rather odd for this late at night. Mary could think of only one person that was calling at this time of night, her mother. She only called every few week to see how things were doing and the boys were. Her parents were already in bed at this time of night. She’d be only calling at this time of night if something happened to her father. Mary's mind wandered to the worst case scenario as she got up from the couch to answer the phone.
"Hello?" Mary answered the phone on its second ring. Her voice was dull as she was momentarily distracted by her panic of her father's imaginable illness. She looked over her at to the TV, her lips stretching into a small smile at the sight of her husband on the small screen. She thought to herself about how handsome he looked in his uniform as he escorted out the criminal that was going to be locked away for years to come. “Winchester residence.”
“Mary? Is that you?” The voice on the other end was instantly recognizable as her husband. She answered John’s question in a chipper tone, but he didn’t greet her with a hello like always. “Are you and the boys okay?”
"We're fine." Mary reassured her husband. A slightly confused expression crossed her face from the question he asked her. "Honey, is everything alright with you?"
"Mary, I need you to listen to me very carefully. You and the boys need to find somewhere safe to hide." John explained to the woman the true reason why he was calling. Mary felt a shiver run up her spine from the way her husband was speaking. She warned him to stop joking around. "I wish I was joking, sweetheart. But I'm not. Grab the gun I have in the nightstand and take Dean to Sammy's room. Lock the door and don't let anyone in."
“W-What?” Mary suddenly found it hard to form words. “John, what’s going on?”
The line went silent for a moment, as if he was debating with himself if he wanted to tell her the truth. He did. "It's probably nothing. Some kid dropped a note off at the the front desk a half an hour ago. It said that the families of the cops involved with the big bust a few days ago were..." John didn't need to say the words for Mary to understand. It was a threat against her life. And her two precious boys she had sleeping just down the hall. "I'm heading out now. Bobby left five minutes ago to check on Karen and Y/N."
Mary understood that when her husband became a cop his life would be put in danger every single time he put on the uniform. But never did she think her own would be. Her last thought before she heard the door handle start to slightly rattle was about the safety of the Singer family and their new adopted daughter, Y/N. The infant who had been brought into this world in a painful and miserable way that made Mary feel nauseous when Bobby told her the story. She was such a beautiful baby girl. Mary wondered if her and the boys would be good friends. But she would never know the future, as hers only lasted for a few more minutes before it was cut.
+ + +
Dean felt himself inhale a deep breath as his mind tore itself away from the familiar hellish nightmare that could always make him break out into a cold sweat and confuse him for a second of where he was,. In the brief few seconds of his sleepy haze he thought he was four years old again, clutching his action figure he grabbed from his room for comfort and hid underneath his baby brother's crib like his mother instructed him to do. And he did. His four year old self focused on keeping silent as possible, he was a pro at it from the hundreds of times he used to play hide and seek with his father after he came home from work. But trying to block out his mother’s screams for mercy were harder. The seven minutes that it took his father to get home felt like it took a lifetime and a half.
His father prayed to the Virgin Mary, God and their son Jesus that his wife was safe during the entire way back home from the station. John found her dead body lying on the living room floor, bleeding out from the six stab wounds the killer managed to inflict before sneaking out the fire escape. The last thing Dean remembered about that night was seeing all those cops in the living room and the flashing of lights. Bobby was there, too. He took Dean out to the police car and showed him all the buttons that an officer had to use to chase down bad guys. Dean thought that was the night he wanted to help people. And the last time he ever saw his mother.
Three days after his mother's murder, his father quit the force. He decided that his time would be suited better to helping people as a private investigator, attempting to solve crimes and mysteries the police didn't have time for. Dean knew it was an excuse to obsess over the murder that took his mother's life when his father got a little too drunk. He lost count how many times he came home to boxes and boxes of evidence lying around the apartment. Dean was surprised the old man survived until a few years ago from the heart attack that took his life. His mother’s murder drove his father insane. But now the both of them were at rest.
Dean rubbed his face with his hands, forcing his aching body to get up when he heard the sounds of rustling coming from outside his bedroom and into his apartment. For a split second in his post nightmare haze, Dean reached for the gun that he always kept hidden underneath his pillow, thinking someone had followed him home last night. But then he realized a few moments later that it was Friday morning, your weekly visit to his apartment to make sure that he was still alive and to drop off the food you picked up after each time you stole his credit card. You thought you were being sneaky, but he caught you every time, yet he never said anything.
Dean was thankful for the helpfulness on such a simple task, and you wanted to make sure the man didn’t eat himself into an early grave from all the takeout he had. Dean didn’t remember the last time he cooked a meal for himself, either. You were here almost every chance you could when you and Dean weren’t too busy with work. From an early age you were in the kitchen with your mother, Karen, learning all the tips and tricks to make a delicious meal. You loved loved to cook, and he loved you...r food. Obviously.
"I don't understand why you don't just ask Dean if you can move in. You're practically here every chance you can get." Charlie Bradbury, best friend to you and Dean, was currently occupying one of the chairs at the small dining area and enjoying the fresh pot of coffee you had put on before she arrived. She was drinking out of the cup that was in the shape of Iron Man's head. It was part of a gift you had gotten Dean few Christmas' ago that were a set of Marvel superhero coffee cups. "You cook for him, you buy his groceries."
"Hey, I'm not paying for this out of my own pocket. He pays for his own stuff. I just happen to live a few blocks away from the store. And I know how to cook better than he can. It's the only way I can get him to eat something that isn't a pizza or deep fried." You defend yourself against your best friend as you put away a few cans of vegetables into a cabinet. "Besides, Dean does this stuff for me when I get busy with the paper.”
"You never do it for me." Charlie said.
“That’s because you’re annoying.” You sarcastically shot back at her. You knew what you said would only add more fuel for her to use against her. So you added, “And that's a lie. I was over at your place every single day cooking for you when you broke your leg last year after you and Dorothy went up the Adirondacks to go skiing. It’s what friends do.”
“Yeah. True. But you’re also obsessed with him and his well-being.” Charlie slyly remarked. She hid her growing smirk behind the coffee cup as she took another sip of her drink. She saw your body stiffen in discomfort at how the conversation shifte. She would take any chance she could get to remind you of the dirty secret you confessed to her at a New Years party a few years back while you were too drunk for your own good. “Why don’t you just ask him out already?”
“Because!” You quickly shushed the redhead when you realized that Dean was still sleeping in the room just across the way. Unless Charlie’s big mouth woke him up. “It’s weird. He’s my best friend. I’ve known him since I was born.”
Charlie's brow raised slightly in curiosity, "So you're finally admitting that you like him?"
You opened your mouth to defend yourself against your best friend's assumption, however you slowly shut it as you felt your cheeks burn in embarrassment when Charlie's smirk grew into a toothy smile. You would admit in a heartbeat that Dean was your best friend for long as you could remember, along with his little brother Sam, who was almost six months older than you. Your father said all you were like the three musketeers growing up, you were always at each other's side at every chance you could get. And the dynamics stayed the same when the three of you were adults with careers and lives of your own. You and Sam had your own dynamics you formed after going to school from pre-k all the way to your senior year of high school. But your friendship with Dean was...different.
There was something about him, from his nerdish love for everything comics and horror related, to old Westerns he used to make you and Sam watch all the time as teens, to his taste in music. The both of you liked a lot of the same things, sharing a special bond to the old cartoon of Scooby Do when you used to watch it together, and his secret guilt pleasure of Disney movies you would drag him every so often if there was a cute one playing in theatres. He was adamant on not wanting to see "Finding Dory" when it came out a few years ago, but he fell in love with the forgetful fish. Much as the both of you acted like best friends, at some point in your life you grew the tiniest crush on him that never stopped growing.
Luckily before you could try and deflect the conversation from spilling your guts, a familiar face greeted you when you turned around to finish putting away the rest of the groceries. A smile crept at the ends of your lips when you saw Dean standing in the doorway of the kitchen with a slightly groggy expression, his green eyes that you could stare into all day were covered behind this black rimmed glasses he wore since he was a little kid. You realized that you must have accidentally woken up from how loud you and Charlie were talking.
"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty." You greeted the man in a playful tone as you shut the fridge door after putting away a quart of milk. Dean scratched the back of his head, subtly making sure his short hair wasn't sticking out in any odd ends. He adjusted his glasses and mumbled a good morning to follow yours. You took a moment to examine the man when he went on the search for finding himself a clean mug to pour himself a cup of coffee. "No offense, but you like you were dragged through a hedge backwards. Rough night?"
"Yeah. If you want to call it that. I was out until three for a client. He wanted me to follow his wife around to see if she was cheating on him. You know, the stuff that pays the bills. Hey, do you know where the..." Dean tried to remember the word for the bottle of painkillers he was searching for. He rattled an invisible bottle in his hand, you grabbed him a new box of ibuprofen and threw it at him.
"Saw you were running low nd got some more. Stocked your bathroom with a new one, too. I swear, you gotta be careful with that stuff." You warned the man. But you knew you were contradicting yourself when you grabbed an open can of an energy drink you picked up from the store. "Too much of that is gonna give you kidney failure in the future."
"Uh-huh. And that stuff isn't a heart attack in a can." Dean said. You rolled your eyes as you took another sip of the drink that was the only thing keeping you from falling asleep. He ripped open the paper packaging to dig inside the bottle and take out a few pills, trying his hardest to keep the muffled sounds of his pain to a bare minimum so you wouldn't notice. But you always did.
"So," You leaned yourself against the countertop and looked over at the man who downed the few pills with a sip of coffee Charlie poured for him. You pointed to Dean's stomach area that you were guessing was making him walk around like an eighty year old man in pain. "What's the latest injury? The cheating wife kick your ass after she found out you were following her?"
Dean worked as a private investigator after taking over his father's business when John died a few years ago from a heart attack. Winchester Investigations was started before Dean's firth birthday and attracted all sorts of people for John to help them. Mostly on missing people and unsolved mysteries that families wanted closure for. But that didn’t always walk through the door asking for Dean’s investigative skills. Lately it was a disgruntled spouses wanting to see if their partner was cheating on them with someone younger than them. They wanted photographic proof to file for divorce, Dean agreed, and he'd do all sorts of weird things to get his proof.
“I...might have fell out of a fire escape trying to get her picture.” Dean admitted to you. His words became muffled slightly as he brought the cup back to his lips to take another sip. But he knew you heard him as your eyes grew slightly wide in concern as you spoke his name in a serious tone of voice. “Relax, Y/N. I’m fine. Nothing’s broken. Just a little bruised up.”
You let out a sigh and shook your head from how accident prone he could be. You rubbed your face with your hand as you let out a yawn. The few hours of sleep you managed to get last night were demanding more. “You look like crap yourself.” Charlie said. You gave her a small smile as you sarcastically thanked her for the compliment. “Did you get any sleep last night?”
“About two hours. Cas and I were down at the docks since four this morning. His ‘friend’ Meg tipped him off about these four girls who said they were kidnapped and kept in these horrendous conditions in one of those storage units. You know, the ones that get shipped off into boats and stuff? Well, we got there first and took a look around. And...trust me, it was messed up." You explained the situation to your friends about the news story you were investigating for your job. These poor girls were kept in complete darkness for days. They barely were given any food. There was no place to go to the bathroom or bathe. God knows what would have happened."
"That's terrible." Charlie mumbled. You could see a slightly disturbed expression cross her face when she imagined what kind of things you had seen. She knew by tomorrow morning you would have written all about it with Cas' pictures on the front page. "How did they get away?"
"This is where things got...ridiculous. These girls claimed a guy dressed in all leather and a red mask saved them. Never saw his face. The guy never said a word to them. He somehow managed to take on four men all by himself." You said, your lips stretching into a small smirk as you retold the statement one of the women had given to Meg Masters. "When the cops got there all of the men were tied up and locked in the unit."
Charlie's brow raised itself slightly in curiosity from the description she heard a dozen times before, "You mean this could be the work of the Red Hood?"
"Red Hood. Who the hell came up with that stupid name?" You mumbled to yourself. You couldn't help yourself when you rolled your eyes as you scoffed from the name you had grown to hate. "No. These girls were severely dehydrated and scared out of their minds. They probably wanted to think it was that psycho."
"If they were in such bad shape, how did they manage to escape?" Charlie asked. You tilted your head to the side and gave her an annoyed look from how she was getting on your nerves today. She grew a smile from how easy the mention of the masked vigilante could make you so angry. "Why do you hate the Red Hood so much?"
"Because there's some stranger out there taking the law into his own hands. Putting the lives of people in danger so they can play hero.” You said, crossing your arms over your chest. "Last time I check it only takes three buttons to call 911 and report a crime. It's gonna be a matter of time until they kill someone."
"But they haven't yet." Charlie subtly argued with you. You gave her a look of disbelief from her support to this masked mad man running around the city that seemed to have popped out of nowhere a few years ago. "You've got a point, Y/N/N. And I'm not dissing your dad or the cops. They do a good job. But it doesn't hurt to have some peace of mind knowing there's someone out there looking out for us folks. And he probably saved those girls from being trafficked.”
You let out a sigh as you looked around the kitchen, waiting a second before giving your best friend the satisfaction that she had won this argument. "You’re right. But I still don't like him. And I’m not mentioning him in the article.”
You finished the last of your drink and disposed of it in the recycling. You wanted to stay for a little longer but you needed a nap and write the first draft of the article for your editor, Gabriel, to read over to see what revisions you might need to make before the printing of tomorrow's paper. You said your goodbyes to your best friends and made your way out. A moment of silence fell between Dean and Charlie after the door slammed shut. Dean sipped the rest of his coffee as he started to open up the cabinets, wondering what he might want for breakfast. He ignored the shift in Charlie's expression as she narrowed your eyes slightly on the man.
“You fell out of a fire escape, huh?”
“Yup.”
Charlie tapped her fingers against the ceramic mug, allowing the man a chance to come clean with the truth of his injuries. But Dean remained silent as he settled on a bowl of cereal, ever so slightly wincing at the movements he made. Charlie couldn’t take it anymore. “I thought we were gonna be smart about this, Dean. You could have gotten yourself killed. We should have went to the cops—”
“Charlie, I've went up against worse. I'm just a little sore. I'll be fine in a couple of days. Nothing a little rest and painkillers can’t fix. And besides, I don't think Bobby would like how we found those girls.” Dean cut off of the redhead from expressing her concerns. Charlie let out a faint sigh as she sank down into her seat, knowing that he was right. "But you did a good job. You should be proud of yourself.”
Charlie grew the faintest smile as her face lit up at the compliment. She took another sip of her drink and looked over at the front door. "I think Y/N is starting not to had the Red Hood so much. I'd call that progress." Dean turned his head slightly and looked at the woman from the corner of his eye. "You know, I think she would change her mind for good if she were to meet him."
Dean gave his best friend a disapproving expression from her idea. He didn’t want anyone to know the truth, not even Charlie. But things happened that caused her to know his secret. And he wanted to keep it between the both of them. "Right. Tell the daughter of the city's police captain that I'm really the Red Hood. 'Cause that doesn't end up with me getting hauled off to jail. Or Y/N laughing in my face.”
"I didn't say you had to reveal your secret. Just find a way to talk to her as the Red Hood." She suggested. Dean stopped for a moment as he stared at her with a look of disbelief from how she wasn’t letting this go. He asked her in a sarcastic tone of voice if he wanted her to show up at their best friend’s front door dressed up as the persona he adapted into. “No. But I know Y/N. And she loves a man in uniform. Besides, you can’t tell me you’ve never followed her around.”
“What? No. That’s weird.” Dean quickly defended himself against such an absurd accusation his friend thought of. Charlie tilted her head to the side, he quickly moved his gaze back to the bowl of cereal me made for himself. “I did get those pictures of Mrs. Taylor last night. They're still on the computer. Send them to the client and get the hell out of my apartment. I’m going back to bed.”
Charlie watched as Dean grabbed his bowl of cereal and began to slowly make his journey back to his bedroom, the painkillers he took were starting to kick in. The redhead snickered to herself and got to work on her day job, delivering bad news to their clients about their suspicions on how faithful their partner was being. As Charlie uploaded the pictures to the computer, she found herself growing the smallest smile. Sure, this kind of work helped keep her and Dean in a job, but it was what the both of them accomplished last night that made her stick around and help the Red Hood. And she had to repay him back after Dean saved her life that night.
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Thoughts on les miserables bbc episode 6 part 2
So i finaly find time to rewatch and to do part 2....this part will mostly be about Valjean, Cosette, Marius and thinks after the bridge(the point that the livestreaming start creating real problems) although there would be some small details that could belong to part 1 from the timeline before the bridge
So starting with the small details I notice in the rewatch and stant out
So Enjolras worries about the people with families but he decides to live the 12 year old kid to die with them!!!
Actual everyone is ok with Gavroche a kid staying at the baricade!!
Why they stay at the baricade if they can escape so easy?! People come and go all the time in this baricade!! At the book even if they live anoticed from the baricade they would be noticed at the roads from the solders and excecuted at the spot so they had to disguise as soldiers and sent only 5 because they didn't have enough uniforms!! Here they just can walk away
Why isn't the the workman Feuilly!!?? I just have create a headcanon that is feuilly with an undercover alias or a nickname or a first extra name davies gave him(it would not be the first time) He sould be feuilly
Why valjean carries a mattress?! I know it was in the book and it was an importan help but in the book the point was that they had to shoot the ropes that held it high at a house window and only he could achive it(because he has perfect aim)and then they should risk to retrive it because it felt outside of the baricade...and they want it because it would block bullets that went through a spot that they had left as a door and they could use the spot if they need(and they use it later)...it would make sense to block a army with some heavy staff...he is valjean he is strong enough to do it...they could do it like in shoujo cosette where he use a whole fucking carriage as a block(but i forgot that we don't coppy the good adaptation here...only the averege at best and mostly the worst and shoujo Cosette is one of the best!! Like top 3 best)
I leave the baricades and i think everyone at the police ships javert with valjean...it the only think that make sense(the first valvert fans)( i have read a fanfic with that consept but it was a small crack one and it was still more subtle and serius at its approach)
And now I move to rest part
Starting with valjean who finally starts to have his epiphany. Good work buddy!! Your are only 17 years late!!! And you only seem to go the half way of it!! Your book version was at the half way after the bishop and all the way after petit gervais!!
And the epiphany is mostly flashbacks of people saying how horrible he is which is totally true!! The tragedy of the book!valjean is that he thinks that he is horrible based of his past(before gervais) and that he diserves misery but he is a really great good man
And i can't understant why he start screaming for javert at the street when he cleary want to kill him at the baricade some hours ago(it doesn't make sense in this version)
And(like i said at part 1) the police doesn't react to the fact that valjean is free!! They know!! They saw him!! And with javert suicide they wouldn't forget that case!! Did they all talk with Rivette and agreed to forget it?! They all agreed to let it pass?! No one thing to arrest valjean for the glory of arresting a dangerius criminal?! They where more than 10 with javert!!! Is valjean free?!
And lets talk about Cosette who is a worst sleep lover than even me!! Seriusly!! She sleeps in a dramatic pose in her nice dress which means she woke up, get dressed and then disaded to take a nap at the morning...and she needs an army to wake her up from her nap!! And at the night not only she doesn't hear valjean(a little far fetch consider she sould be woried but i can understand that) but somehow she doesn't smell him!?!?! How is that posible?! Javert smelt him and he was used of the gutter! Even thernadier notice the smell in a fucking sewer because it was too strong!! How she stayed asleep?! Is she the new sleeping beauty?!
And she just rush into the soldiers lines screaming for marius and trying to find him...I'm pretty sure there was plenty room for her to walk at the sides of the marching soldiers but we want to make her look badass for the trailer and we want a pointless scene of her in the middle of the action where a woman just cries for her boyfriend and don't give a fuck for her missing papa but with this valjean i don't blame her
The Gillenormand household remains one of the best parts og the series....I really crack when the police left marius at the freaking stairs but a laughed when the gillenormand decided to move him after they realized he was alive! How long they would have lived him at the stairs if he was dead?! Because the stairs apparently are bad place for a wounded but a perfect for the corpses of your beloved once!!
Gillenormand is perfect!! He is the only character that is like his book version! A asshole and jackass and stubborn but deep down he loves and cares for his family and can be a funny man. Just perfect
It's only me or did they use the same bed for wounded marius they used at the 2012 movie/musical(that horrible version acording to davies) The scene looks really similar!!
And back to valjean he tells the truth to marius before the wedding(and not after like the book in this perfect adaptation)
But he actually tells the whole truth...like that the original crime was bread stealling
But because we need marius to stop valjean for seeing Cosette not only he would not say to marius what happen to javert( marius ask him if he came to the baricade to kill javert) but he is gona mention that he went to kill marius!! And that he is a wanted criminal(although the police doesn't seem to bother and he isn't afraid of his arrest)He also says about cosette reaction to the prisoners but it was his fault on the first place that he saw them
And ofcourse marius wants him away after that it make sense...this man is dangerous!! But that way it miss the point! In the book valjean goes to a lawyer and says that he went to prison for 19 years...Marius as a lawyer knows the law and he would thing that the original crime was very serius for that sentence...and even more tragic is that valjean mention that everyone thinks him dead and there is no really a risk for him to be around but he is still want to do the sacrifice for the safety of his daughter...and he makes it clear how difficult it is to him to loose her so he convinces marius to let him see her one hour a day
And even more tragic is that on the book marius acts like an idiot...he start do reserch and starts to creat a completly wrong senario...he starts thinks that valjean kill javert(although anlike the series he doesn't mention it to valjean and on the book marius wanted to save javert because he saw him in action and find him awesome) and that he gave madeleine to the police a saintly exconvict and stole madeleine's money
Even more tragic he creates this senario while it could be easy with a little more reserch to find the whole truth(he is a lawyer a baron with money) and because of this senario he starts to hate valjean and makes it clear he is unwelcome which cause valjean to stop visiting and eventually to his death!! He tries to separate a father for his child in the same way his grandfather separate him from his father which is a great tragic irony
In the book the death of valjean is fault in small part of valjean who is too self sacrificing and has too little self esteem and mostly marius fault who makes the reach to the completly wrong conclusion and acts with prejudice
But in the bbc version they trie to make it as little as they can not marius fault
Amd when thernadier cames to tell the truth he doesn't have any proofs(just his world because his so trust worthy)...he doesn't have newpapers that say about javert and madeleine(who in the book makes you wonder who a wanted criminal find them and a fucking rich baron couldn't) he doesn't have the piece of the jacket...he just say that he looks like marius but he didn't realize it was marius(but he recognise valjean)
In this versio thernadier hates valjean but he still is willing to defend him when it cames to javert death while in the book he doesn't hate valjean and he is like "I'm a criminal but lets not start wrongfully blaming people we have some dignity...i will only blame the rightfully" which is hillarius!!
In this version we have cosette in the scene for some reason but she only acts scared and shocked(strong intresting woman..not like th book)and acts as an opportunity for thernadier to be an asshole like we didn't had figure that his is bad
And if you aren't sure that he is bad he start up says he want to be a slave trader!! And marius still gives him the money...no objection here? Cosette? Your ok with him mistreating people worst that he mistreat you? Your just ok with that?
And after that they go to find valjean and they find him immediately in Digne... and what a shock his hair are whiter...not completely white(i'm not sure they are to short to understant)and they act so sock that they get light gray in 6 weeks...it's not like the should turn completely white in one day like 10 years agoooo...o wait they should(my god with how much delay is this valjean working)
And when we see him they try to make him look miserable but he looks with this haircut like he would canonicaly look in the book and in reality at the prison and Digne...because in reallity the prisoners in Tullon would be with no hair and no beard....and valjean acts like the way he should had act with the bishop and gervais(if they had follow the book)!!?!?
But wait it seem that he is sick...we don't from what but he started at paris...and he works in the garden so he is get ise to it...so he doesn't die for broken hurt...its not marius fault....he just happened to get sick when they where at holidays...its just unfortune
It's not like in the book where the separation from his daughter make him loose the will to live and he wasted away and basically he starves himself and just waits in his miserable apartment writing his last words in which he tries to conviense marius that the dowry money are lawfull so he would use them for making cosette happy and he just waits for his death because at this point death would be a relief...no here he is ill and just enjoing his last moments with his garden and his nice cottage
And this version has cosette be his side for hours...and she now everything so he knows that she forgave him for everything so he dies much happier than this version diserves
In the book they barely make it in time to see him and he is just happy that he sees his daughter again and he keeps asking if marius forgave him even if he did nothing wrong and is even sadder because the doctor says that if they ccame sooner he would definately survived...and he is still happy because is with him and he calls him papa again and that is all he needs(the final parts of the book with valjeans end and what lead to it is one of my favourite parts and the second most sad for me and its a shame that i could not have it)
And after that the bbc desides to close with more misery because they don't care at all about the message...they just gone show hungry kids be ignore...they could save it if they had cosette give them money...the book is not that miserable
This was a tough run...they completely misportate almost all the characters especial the main ones and they didn't had time for the others...this versions of the characters could not pass the message of the book but the bigest mistake was that along with the characters they miss the whole point.
The message of the book was not"the world is cruel the world is wicked"(yes i'm quotting frollo and to be fair even the 'notredome de paris'another hugo novel was not that miserable).
The message was that will there is misery to the world we must not be ignorant...there is hope for a better future! Our biggest enemy is ignoranse and indifgerence but we can make the world a better place...and it's hard and many will be lost in the way and the fights but there will be always life and with life there is hope. At the baricades Enjolras says "The 19o century is glorious but the 20o will be happy" because that is the what hugo believed. When the book published France was a republick. People make mistakes but they can change and they can be improved with love. Romantic love, parental love, friendship,family love,agape,love for the country, love for our fellow man thats the love that it is in the book...that is where hugo focus...the book is more about love than it is about misery because where is life there is love and where is love there is hope and a promice for a better less miserable future and where is sadness injustice and misery books like "les miserables" will always by useful and relevant
Here is the link for part 1
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Chapters: 4/?
Fandom: Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Fukawa Touko/Togami Byakuya, Fukawa Touko/Togami Byakuya/Kirigiri Kyouko, Fukawa Touko/Kirigiri Kyouko, Kirigiri Kyouko/Togami Byakuya (Dangan Ronpa)
Characters: Togami Byakuya, Fukawa Touko, Kirigiri Kyouko
Additional Tags: Togami Kijou, Togami Shinobu - Freeform, Naegi Makoto - Freeform, Yukizome Chisa - Freeform, past Maizono Sayaka/Kirigiri Kyouko, Later chapters are e-rated, mentions of csa, au where despair didn't happen and junko was content, with leaving the fridge open and moving things slightly everyday, Genocider Syo - Freeform, Chisa Yukizome - Freeform
Summary: Togami hires Kirigiri to solve a mass murder that occurred at his wedding anniversary party. One hitman was apprehended, but he refuses to say a single word, while the other got away. The mastermind could be anyone, but the list of suspects is getting shorter, and Kirigiri finds herself learning more about the Togamis than she anticipated.
“Hello?”
“Is this Anastazja Togami?”
“Who is this?”
“I’m Kyouko Kirigiri.”
“Who?”
Kyouko, sitting on the short edge of her bed with her notebook and pen on her lap, shifted her position a little, but she didn’t become much more comfortable on the soft mattress.
“First, please confirm your identity,” said Kyouko, holding her phone to her ear.
The voice on the other end of the phone huffed.
“I am Anastazja Togami. You got through to my personal phone, somehow.”
“Thank you.” Kyouko carded her hair with her fingers. “A member of staff gave it to me. I’m the detective assigned to the case of the mass murder at your son and daughter-in-law’s anniversary party.”
“What is it that you want?” Anastazja clicked her tongue. “I sent you a witness statement via email. Did you delete it without reading it?”
“I read it,” said Kyouko with professional patience, “but that’s not exactly what I’m calling about.”
A pause.
“How well did you know the victims?” asked Kyouko.
The next pause was longer.
“I’ve met them,” stated Anastazja tersely.
“Enough to talk about the sort of people they were like?”
“Hm.”
Kyouko didn’t know what that meant.
“Is that a yes or a no?” she asked Anastazja.
A third pause.
“I could talk about them,” said Anastazja.
“Is now a good time?” asked Kyouko. She picked up her pen from between the exposed pages in her notebook and readied it to write. “Also, if you have any photographs of them, I would like to see them too.”
“I don’t understand how this is meant to help you with your investigation. Didn’t these dead people have families? They’d be able to provide you with more information.”
“I have spoken to them, but I was hoping to get another perspective, as well as ask you more about what happened at the party,” said Kyouko. She rolled her shoulders and her neck. “And there is another reason I wish to talk to you - I have a request. Would you be able to send me any photographs of the victims?”
“Look,” said Anastazja, raising her voice a bit, “I tell you what. This Thursday, I can come over in person, and we can talk face-to-face and I’ll bring what I have.”
Kyouko blinked. “Really?”
“What do you mean, ‘really’? I just said I would. If we’re going to have an interview, I don’t want to do it over the phone, and I don’t want to send anything else in text where who knows who can read it. Besides, I think I would like to examine you. So, this Thursday at noon, all right?”
“That’s fine. Tha-”
Anastazja hung up. Kyouko lowered her phone and stared at the screen. Evening was a tired blue outside.
***
“Kyouko Kirigiri...”
The word slushed around between Anastazja’s cheeks as she tasted it.
“Yes,” said Kyouko, seated at Byakuya’s desk but interviewing a different Togami this time. “That’s me.”
Blonde hair, blue eyes, a sharp nose and dressed formally, in appearance, Anastazja resembled her son greatly. She lacked his staple white glasses though, and her makeup consisted of a lot of nude tones with the exception of her lips. Those were pink.
“So you’re that woman,” said Anastazja, whatever she meant by that. “The former Super High School Level Detective.”
Anastazja’s frown deepened, and she drummed a finger against her armrest.
“Please stand up,” said Anastazja.
“Pardon?” asked Kyouko.
“Stand up. Just for a few moments.”
Kyouko gave her a puzzled look but complied.
“Spin,” said Anastazja, twirling her finger, and Kyouko allowed Anastazja a complete view of herself. Anastazja’s finger became still with the rest of her as she seemingly studied Kyouko, who only completed one circle. Some seconds later, Anastazja said, “You may sit now.”
So Kyouko did.
“167 centimetres, about 50 kilograms. Your chest is about 80 centimetres,” said Anastazja.
“That’s all correct,” said Kyouko with a slight nod of her head, keeping her eyes on Anastazja.
“Your body mass index is roughly the same as Byakuya’s wife. Far too low.” Anastazja curled her lips. Kyouko pulled a faint grimace that Anastazja paid no notice of. “So, anyway, Detective, if you’re supposedly the very best in your field, why is it that more than a month and a half has passed yet you haven’t made any real progress?”
“I was assigned to this case less than three weeks ago,” Kyouko pointed out. In that time, she had gone through countless witness statements, examined the crime scene and evidence, requested and carried out interviews and visited where the conglomerate were keeping the captured gunman, though she hadn’t been able to extract any information out of him as he refused to say a single word.
Anastazja clucked her tongue.
“If I had been contacted earlier,” started Kyouko, only for Anastazja to raise a hand and interrupt.
“That’s nothing to do with me. Kijou had certain criteria in mind for who he would allow to take charge of the case, and after everyone involved was paid off, Byakuya needed to form a convincing argument to persuade the conglomerate to authorise your employment.” Anastazja dropped her elevated hand to her lap. “That takes time.”
Kijou was the name of Byakuya’s father.
Kyouko quirked her brow. “Paid off?”
“You know, the families of the victims, members of the press, guests...” Anastazja lifted her hand again and waved it. “They all needed to be persuaded to keep hushed about what happened.”
“Why?”
“Why? What sort of message would this send out?” snapped Anastazja. “People getting assassinated... Bad publicity. Bad reputation. Bad image. Too much attention. There are some unrelated things that we wouldn’t want unearthed during an investigation.”
“Like what?” asked Kyouko.
Anastazja crossed one leg over the other, laying eye contact on thick.
“Secret documents... Certain police reports... Certain ledgers... Top secret projects...” None which Kyouko saw while in the storage room. Those must have been kept elsewhere. “The Togami Conglomerate is one of the entities that control the world. Everyone, people like you, are puppets. Not just anyone can breeze in here. They’ll happen upon things that ordinary people are not ready for.”
She leaned forward and laced her fingers together into a ball over her chest. At no point had Anastazija smiled, and she didn’t smile now either. The smell of her perfume became stronger, honey mixed with various flowers accords. Maybe powdery iris. Most of the time, Kyouko didn’t bother with perfume, but Sayaka had been an expert.
“Now, Kirigiri, as you ought to know, the shooter who they caught had someone else’s ID on him,” said Anastazja. “A trusted supplier who couldn’t attend because he was in America at the time. What sort of people would hire hitmen to infiltrate a party?”
Kyouko focused. “A rival company?”
“Maybe,” said Anastazja. Her eyes narrowed above her aquiline nose. “Maybe they weren’t hitmen, but came of their own accord, with their own agenda.”
“That’s a possibility,” admitted Kyouko, glancing away. She dragged her gaze back. “However, he doesn’t have any fingerprints, he’s underweight and his behaviour under interrogation has been unshakeable, so I’m inclined to think this is his profession, rather than that he was brought here by his own motives.”
Anastazja nodded, the highest praise given out so far.
“If we go with them being hitmen, with someone else’s ID, a hitman could have gone in another person’s place, which he did,” said Anastazja.
Kyouko cupped her chin. “And no one noticed that they weren’t who they claimed to be?”
“Why do you think that happened?” asked Anastazja. She reclined, settling into her seat, and folded her arms over her chest.
“There were a lot of guests. And with a clever enough disguise...” Kyouko rubbed her chin and trailed off.
“Finally, the gears in your brain seem to be whirring. Yes, there were a lot of guests, many whom Byakuya invited just to build good work relations,” Anastazja chipped in. She examined her nails. “Wives, husbands, children, bodyguards... It was a very publicised event. There were bound to be unrecognisable people, and all these hitmen had to do was fool the guards to get in. You can imagine how much work it required for everything to be smoothed over after.”
“Was this Togami-kun’s idea? The bribing?”
“Byakuya? Not just his. Everyone agreed this would be the best course of action.”
“... Right.” Kyouko cleared her throat. “Anyway, let us get to the matter at hand. I assume you brought what I asked for.”
Anastazja ducked down and snatched up a canvas bag by her feet. She placed it onto the desk. An envelope could be seen through the opening and when Kyouko pulled it out, she found that it was the only thing in there.
“Is this it?” asked Kyouko, prompting Anastazja to turn up her nose.
“You said you wanted photographs for the investigations. These are all I have of people who died,” retorted Anastazja.
It would have to do. Kyouko opened the envelope and flicked through the contents. She had seen most of them before, but there were photographs from the party and two group photographs that she hadn’t seen yet. Nothing about the photographs taken at the party stood out, though there was one of Byakuya giving a speech of some kind while Touko smiled fondly at him, which Kyouko thought was sort of sweet. In regards to the photographs prior to the party, one depicted Kijou and the victims, and another showed a younger Byakuya alone with Osamu, where Byakuya was holding a violin.
Osamu smiled with his hand on Byakuya’s shoulder. Byakuya didn’t smile and stared right at the camera.
Even at what must have been about ten years old, he had perfected his stony countenance.
“What was Sugawara-san like?” asked Kyouko, examining the photograph.
“Oh, I don’t know... He liked music,” said Anastazja, which would imply she did know something. “Whenever we had guests over, Byakuya would perform a few pieces for everyone to enjoy. I liked to show him off. Sugawara often asked for an encore, and he would visit Byakuya backstage to ask him questions and compliment him... not that that’s strange. My son is very talented. I didn’t talk much to the man myself, but he came here somewhat regularly.”
Kyouko flicked back to a photograph that included Ikari and Shiba. She pointed. “And them?”
Anastazja leaned forward and peered at the photograph, which Kyouko rotated and held out toward her. While Anastazja studied it, Kyouko used her phone to take photos of the photographs.
“Hm? Them? Oh, I recognise them,” said Anastazja, touching a manicured nail to it. “I saw them even less. Ikari-san was a family man and Shiba-san smelled of cigarettes most of the time. I know Sugawara-san better. He saw potential in my son so would stop by to visit, years before Byakuya became the heir.”
“Became the heir?” Kyouko’s gaze darted to her face. “Isn’t that something someone is born...?”
For whatever reason, Anastazja tensed and almost cracked some emotion, but it was like a door opening up to a dark room.
“Don’t worry about that. Now, is that all?” asked Anastazja, her voice failing to hit the same note as the smile that she slapped on. Kyouko didn’t get a chance to reply. Anastazja nodded, took back her photos, got to her feet and turned away, already walking off as she said, “Good. I’ll let you get back to work.”
She glided across the room, at the door within seconds.
Kyouko reached out a hand.
“One last thing,” she said.
Anastazja lingered in the doorway.
“How did Togami-kun seem after the ordeal?” asked Kyouko.
“Shaken,” replied Anastazja, not bothering to turn around or look at her. “That’s what I was told, anyway.”
Kyouko wanted to discuss the events at the party, but she gained some interesting information regardless. After Anastazja left the office, Kyouko read through her notebook. The first word on the first page was ‘Byakuya Togami’.
***
Less than an hour after her interview with Anastazja, if one could call it that, Kyouko left the manor. But unlike Anastazja, who slipped into a limousine, Kyouko sat at the back of a black car with tinted windows, driven by one of Byakuya’s chauffeurs. She had expected to get into a limousine as well, but on further thought, doing so would draw attention to them. Still, that wasn’t to say that Kyouko disliked the hour long journey in the more modest car. The seats were soft and the back was roomier than most cars, with a minibar that she poured one drink at as Beethoven played on a radio station which she selected on a remote. Time didn’t pass too slowly.
As intended, no one paid the car more than a glance by the time it parked in the driveway of someone’s house. Kyouko didn’t know who the house belonged to, but the owner didn’t matter. She put her coat back on and gravel mumbled underfoot as they left the car, and she and the chauffeur walked half a mile in midday warmth to their destination.
Stone walls awaited them, surrounded by an outer wall of barbed wire fencing. They arrived at a set of gates built into the fencing, and Kyouko pressed a button on the intercom beside it.
“Name?” came a voice.
“Kyouko Kirigiri,” she replied.
“Purpose?”
“I’m here to speak to the nameless assassin,” she recited, not looking at any of the bug-eyed cameras around her.
Only five seconds could have passed before three security guards waltzed up to them, coming out through the door of a security guard cabin next to the gates. After they showed the security guard their passports, one of the guards held up a bulky, handheld device to their faces, scanning their retina. While this happened, the two other security guards searched them. A woman with a stubby ponytail dealt with Kyouko.
Satisfied by what they found, or rather what they didn’t find, one of the guards barked, “Clear,” into a walkie-talkie. The gates screeched open and Kyouko and the chauffeur were marched in. As soon as they passed through, the gates shut behind them. Kyouko reminded herself of the sections of grass either side of the pavement that they walked across, seen during earlier visits, and she saw no one else as the guards escorted her and the chauffeur through.
At the stone walls, they underwent another check by different guards, and then they were let inside. Security guards patrolled around them and after several twists, turns and stretches of dreary corridors, Kyouko strode into a small room occupied not by a guard but a man in a suit. The room was dimly lit, and a one-way mirror built into a wall revealed another room tinged green. Kyouko reached under her jacket and pulled out her notebook, then a pen. Her heels clicked as she approached the glass.
“He might as well have cut his tongue off,” said the man in the suit, standing next to Kyouko.
She continued peering through the one way mirror. The eyes of the bald man sat on a chair in there drilled into the wall opposite him. Over the past few weeks, she had seen him several times, and not as many times, she had spoken to him. During those occasions they had sat in the same room, with her staring at him from across a desk while he stared through her. He never uttered a single word.
“It’s good that he was apprehended at the scene,” the man in the suit told her. “No fingerprints. No anything. The only ID he had was a forged one of a guest who couldn’t attend. It’s no one that we know or the Togami Conglomerate know. If his accomplice, or accomplices, are anything like him, it’ll be hell to track them down.”
Kyouko didn’t reply. The man in a suit turned his head toward her.
“We might get some information out of him if we’re given permission to deploy certain methods,” he said.
“No,” replied Kyouko without missing a beat.
He glowered, straightened up and held his hands behind his back.
“Then I look forward to seeing if Togami-sama chose the right person to lead this investigation,” he said with his chin high, and he faced forward again.
Kyouko narrowed her eyes.
“I would like some time with him,” she said.
“Go ahead,” said the man in the suit, looking at the bald man.
Two guards accompanied her into the interrogation room, where the air was stale. The prisoner ignored her, as usual. She sat on the chair opposite him, a guard either side of her. He had two guards behind him. At first, she didn’t talk, watching him, though he didn’t move much, blinking occasionally.
“On 4th April this year, you entered a party thrown by Byakuya and Touko Togami, and you killed five people in the main hall, where the party was taking place,” said Kyouko. “Correct?”
She gave him the opportunity to respond, but as with their previous encounters, he didn’t reply.
“Who do you work for?” Kyouko asked.
Nothing.
“After you were let in, you managed to sneak away from the celebrations and get above the ceiling, and from there, by moving panels aside, you were able to shoot down at the victims. Security incapacitated you after you killed five people, and your comrade killed another in a side room before escaping.”
Still nothing.
“Up to now, you haven’t been tortured or humiliated,” she said. The prisoner gave no indication that he heard her. “It is not because they don’t intend on doing so. I have requested that they don’t... for the time being.”
Again. Nothing. The room buzzed, louder than him.
“Don’t think of me as a good cop. I’m not a cop. It’s just that I’m sure you’ve done this before so torture would be a waste of time,” she said. “Your fingerprints have been shaved off. You would have undergone different techniques in your training, such as hooding, deprivation of basic necessities, time disorientation and more. Many of them are illegal, but then again, you’re in an illegal line of work, and you are in the hands of the Togami Conglomerate, not the police.”
Her lashes fluttered.
“Not that it matters. The police are under the conglomerate’s thumb,” she added quietly.
Kyouko waited again. He helped her try to fill the room with silence. She sighed and rose to her feet. Her chair screeched as it was pushed back.
“This isn’t a matter of trying to prove that you’re guilty. You are guilty,” she told him. “You better hope that your training has prepared you for when I lose my patience. I’m human. So are you. Remember that.”
His silence followed her out of the room.
***
On Friday, Kyouko returned to the storage room and browsed through the files. On her first visit, she had been focused on finding photographs, but now she skimmed through the other documents there. Like Byakuya and his mother suggested, there were a lot of private files, though none of them could ruin the Togami Conglomerate to the best of her knowledge. Kyouko recognised a few case files. Even worked on some of them in the past.
They weren’t what she was interested in at the moment, however.
Byakuya arrived back at the manor in time for dinner, but he didn’t come alone. Kyouko first sighted him in the dining room, already seated, and with him wasn’t just Touko, but a slim woman with long, black hair who Kyouko recognised.
“Shinobu Togami,” said Kyouko.
“I know you,” said Shinobu, monotone but smiling politely. She was covered in old scars. “We’ve met. You interviewed me a week ago and we were in the same school, yeah? You’re the headmaster’s daughter.”
Kyouko’s lips flattened together. Shinobu blinked her left eye. Her right eye remained open, the blue iris giving off a glow. The eye was mechanical, had been during their time at Hope’s Peak, and Kyouko had never found out why.
That wasn’t the only robotic body part that Shinobu had. In addition to her eye, her right hand was silver, metal. She raised it and offered it to Kyouko.
“I’m here for my detective status, not as a daughter,” said Kyouko, her face still stiff with annoyance, but she still shook Shinobu’s hand. The dining table could seat ten people, but the other three had sat together, with Byakuya beside Touko and Shinobu opposite them, so Kyouko sat beside Shinobu. Dinner hadn’t been served yet, but they each possessed a cup of tea. No one thought to get Kyouko one, but a maid dashed into the kitchen after Kyouko claimed a chair for herself.
“You’re probably wondering why I’m here,” said Shinobu.
She pressed a finger against her right temple. The pupil in Shinobu’s right eye shrunk and the iris spun, the pale streaks in it whirling around, and she waited quietly, giving Kyouko the chance to guess, but Kyouko remained quiet.
“It’s just a family call,” Shinobu revealed. Her robotic eye stopped spinning. “Did you know that I’m writing my baby brother’s biography?”
Byakuya glared at her, about to take a sip of tea. “I’m hardly younger than you.”
“We all used to call him the runt,” said Shinobu.
Touko shot Shinobu an icy look.
“Who is ‘we’, exactly?” asked Kyouko.
“Me and our former siblings,” said Shinobu, motioning to herself and Byakuya, her shoulders low and loose. Casual.
“Former?” said Kyouko. “What does that mean?”
Byakuya lowered his cup and heaved a sigh.
“I suppose I may as well inform you of the system in place for selecting the heir to the conglomerate,” Byakuya drawled. He gave a pause, maybe for dramatic effect. “My father has over one hundred children.”
Kyouko’s eyebrows raised.
“All of us were conceived in private fertility clinics, and only women deemed to be of high enough quality by my father, his father and advisors were allowed to be fertilised with his seed. Then, after a few decades, my father decided to select the new heir. I was the youngest,” said Byakuya.
“And the youngest never ever wins,” Shinobu piped up, wagging a finger. “First, we did a series of challenges, and after each round, a certain number of competitors - ”
Siblings.
“ - were eliminated.” Shinobu cast her eyes down to her cup. “They were stripped of their identity and status, and forced to live as nobodies. Unknowns.”
“Basically killed,” remarked Byakuya.
Both spoke like it was a minor inevitability.
Kyouko didn’t say anything, frowning into space as a maid placed a cup and saucer in front of her.
“The last round involved sixteen competitors,” said Byakuya and when she glanced up, he had a bitter twist to his mouth. “I lost in the previous round despite my success in every challenge. With a bit of digging around, I discovered that one competitor had bribed by father with a cow that could supposedly bring good luck, and he took my place. I found out where the last round would be held and flew there in disguise.”
“As Polaris P Polanski,” Shinobu interrupted without raising her voice. “A mute girl, the assistant of the late elite detective, Suisei Nanamura.”
That might have explained the photographs of Byakuya with long hair. Kyouko paid it little thought, however, and homed in on another detail.
“Suisei Nanamura?” Kyouko said. Her heart skipped, just for a moment. “I knew him. He specialised in homicides and committed suicide at thirty-seven years of age.”
More words made their way up to her mouth but she shut her lips tight and blocked their path just before they could come out. They bounced around until they disintegrated, forming a crust. She didn’t mention that Suisei killed himself after murdering several people. His work with Byakuya couldn’t have been that long before she met Suisei when she was a young teenager. Suisei would have been useful to have on this case, able to read people by their expressions, posture and wrinkles like no other human could, but he was dead.
“I was one of the last people in the competition,” Shinobu carried on. “We were kidnapped from our homes, dropped off on an island and told to survive. Cameras everywhere watched our performance. But then...”
Her face and voice didn’t change, but when she moved her head, where the light hit her face and where shadows resided shifted.
“... people started getting murdered. Corpses, found charred. Stabbed. Bludgeoned. Poisoned. Our number dwindled. Soon, I realised that we were killing each other, and a set of twin sisters drugged me and tortured me. Then, they were shot...”
“Kirigiri doesn’t have to know this,” Byakuya cut in.
Kyouko was about to be annoyed.
Shinobu shook her head. “It’s fine. They amputated my left arm and my right hand, and gouged out my eye.”
Touko shuddered. Kyouko realised that Byakuya told Shinobu that she didn’t have to continue for Shinobu’s sake. Her brow creased.
“I thought I was going to die but then, right there in front of me, they were sliced up, and I was face-to-face with my adopted brother, Kazuo, who had followed me there, somehow.” Shinobu clenched a fist and her eye clouded vacant. “He rambled, saying how I would win and we would work together, becoming one, and he called me beautiful...”
She stared into space, her eye dry. No one rushed her.
“Sorry,” said Shinobu, making herself grin slightly. Her eye didn’t match. “If I could, I would cry, but after what he did to me, I haven’t been able to shed a single tear. I don’t feel hope or despair. I don’t feel anything... Just a numbness. I’m like a plastic bag being tossed about on a windy day.”
Byakuya turned his head to the side, arms folded over his chest. Touko fidgeted.
“But then, I was saved.” Shinobu placed a hand over her heart and bowed her head. “Nanamura and Polaris burst into my room. They fought Kazuo and Nanamura became injured, but then Pennyworth swooped in and with a katana, he sliced Kazuo in half, totally fulfilling the badass grandpa trope. It’s unfortunate that he’s not at the manor today.”
All that, said with no lilt, no inflection.
Kyouko cupped an elbow with one hand and balled the other into a loose fist under her chin. “Are you okay with that?”
“I don’t feel anything about it,” said Shinobu, meeting her gaze. “I was ready to be disowned. Polaris revealed herself to be Byakuya and became winner of the competition, but he let me stay his sibling and become his secretary. But I think it’s because I’m his sister too. I haven’t done secretary work for him in ages.”
Byakuya kept his face blank, unreadable.
Touko clasped her hands together on the table. Her face quivered. “She’s also writing his biography, even though I’m more than qualified.”
Shinobu shook a finger.
“Nope, it has to be me. I already started it, and you’ve got other things to write, like this I-Novel of yours,” said Shinobu. She tapped Touko on the nose. Touko flinched and Shinobu withdrew. “I’m very good at seeing things from the background and reporting on what I see, seeing people for who they are. And with my scars and Borges, people like to stay way back and act like I’m the Sun. Too blinding to look at directly.”
“Borges?” asked Kyouko. Shinobu pointed at her robotic eye.
“I could have got a regular-looking eye, but I like this one. I get to keep one eye open at all times. I know to many people, I appear ugly, but I don’t care,” said Shinobu. She set her arm down. “I don’t care about being beautiful. I don’t want to be beautiful.”
Touko perked up and waved a fist energetically. “Wear your ugliness with pride!”
A maid brought out their dinner and for the first half of the meal, no one said anything. Cutlery spoke in its secret language of clinks and scrapes. Touko cooed and tried to feed Byakuya a mussel from a bowl of creamy soup, but he batted away Touko’s hand. Her shoulders sank and she sucked on the flesh in the shell, pouting a bit.
“Togami-kun,” said Kyouko when she was someway through her grilled mackerel.
Byakuya didn’t look at her. “What is it?”
“Would you obtain something for me?”
“It depends what it is.”
“Personal phones. Personal email addresses and passwords.”
He narrowed his eyes at her.
“I will get them for you,” he replied.
Touko tried to feed him again. This time, she succeeded, and she beamed. Shinobu continued eating but slower than before, obviously listening in. Byakuya swallowed.
“Do you think you will find something on those?” he asked Kyouko.
“Perhaps,” said Kyouko. “I’ve been through the victims’ work phones and emails, but I didn’t find anything out of the ordinary.”
He pushed his glasses up and said, “You suspect that you might find something there instead? Blackmail?”
Kyouko tilted her head to one side. “If this has crossed your mind, I wonder why you didn’t do this yourself already.”
Touko glowered.
“B-Byakuya has been busy! You’re the one supposed to be looking for leads,” snapped Touko, then falling silent as Byakuya steepled his fingers and inclined his head forward.
“I have read through all of the personal addresses that I know about,” he told Kyouko. “I didn’t find anything suspicious on them, but perhaps you will miraculously find something on them that I missed. For all I know, there are other emails that weren’t supplied to me. I encourage you to sleuth for them. However, I do wonder...”
He paused to show his teeth in a humourless grin.
“... It sounds like you’re treating them less like victims and more like suspects now, Kirigiri.”
Kyouko gave him a level look. “I’m keeping my mind open.”
#togafuka#togafukagiri#kyouko kirigiri#byakuya togami#touko fukawa#danganronpa#fanfiction#shinobu togami#step inside
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Bang Bang! (Ch.22)
Pairing: Ramsay Bolton x Reader
Summary: The Red Wedding happened a week ago. Your boss, Petyr, insists on celebrating the men who “won” this victory, the Red Kings, an assassination group run by the sour-looking Roose Bolton. You, one of Petyr’s favorites, is tasked to find out more about these Red Kings. Who are they? Who are their clients? Who is next?You’re very good at what you do until you meet him. What do you do? Girls like you can’t fall in love. Does the Pretty Bird fly away with him? Or does she ruin the Bloody Bastard and everything he has?
Words: 1622
Author’s Note: this chapter I suggest you read on Ao3, the format makes more sense on there.
Read on Ao3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/11108982/chapters/30228972
LOCATION: The Vale, Las Vegas, NV. TIME: 5:30PM
“The plan is simple,” Dom began. “My father is currently taking care of the spies that reside with Cersei. I suspect she may notice a few of her servants gone, but it’s not like she cared about them anyways. What we need to worry about is the spies in the Vale.”
Domeric and you arrived in an Uber together. You held each other’s hands and laughed with your driver. You both gave him the impression that you were on a honeymoon. Your driver smiled and wished you both a wonderful time. You left the car and watched it leave you behind.
“As far as we know, Brad has rallied up most of the spies inside the Vale. He’s met up with Petyr in a private meeting. They must be working together. He could be providing the spies with some kind of protection, or maybe it’s the way other way around. Either way, we’re going into heavily guarded territory.”
Before you both head inside, Domeric presses a device against his ear. It beeps twice. He nods to you. You repeat the same motion. You heard two pitched beeps in your ear. You let down your hair to cover the secret device.
“Charlotte and Yellow will be our eyes and ears in the Vale. All IT will follow their orders and give direction to everyone else.”
Charlotte saw your markers on a pawn’s screen.
“They’re live and inside. I repeat TrueBorn and PrettyBird are inside,” Charlotte spoke into her microphone. Yellow Dick nodded. He’s surrounded by screens displaying all of the cameras in the Vale. One flickered to just outside the entrance showing Domeric and you together.
“It’s time people!” Yellow announced. The rest of the IT pawns stared at their screens, furiously hacking and typing away, making sure everything and everyone is in place. Pawns muttered into their mics telling where the rest of the Red Kings to go.
“Most IT will tell where and when the Red Kings to go. We need to take out as many Lannister spies as we can, but we have to be smart about this. Since the purple wedding, Lysa has hired extra security to keep her guests, famous or not, safe. No matter what we cannot get caught.”
“Hemp, there’s one of them on Level Five going into the men’s bathroom. You have a chance in there,” said one of the pawns. Hemp nodded and followed the blonde-haired spy into the men’s bathroom. No one else was inside. Hemp took a silencer and connected it to his gun.
Seconds later, the blonde-haired spy lay on the floor bleeding from the back of his head. Life slowly fading from his eyes before he could unzip his pants.
“Confirmed kill,” Hemp’s deep voice came over the radio.
“Of course, Brad is part our top kills tonight. We need to locate him and capture him. That’s it. No one is to touch him. That’s my brother’s personal target.”
A motorcycle engine stopped. A pair of boots walked towards a building close proximity to the Vale. He was armed with guns, knives, and his bare hands. Other pairs of boots followed him. Each had their nicknames on their jackets. “Bones”, “Grunt”, and “Sour Mouth”.
The first pair of boots reached the entrance of the building. His hands loaded his first pistol. His breath was heavy. His nostrils flared and his eyes were focused. His jacket read “Bastard King”.
He was there. He was ready.
“However, our main targets are Petyr Baelish and Lysa Arryn. Y/N and I will head into the Vale in disguise. Since Y/N knows where she’s going, I suspect she will know where Petyr is. If we find Petyr, we find Lysa.”
Domeric and you entered the casino and resort. It was crawling with tourists, employees, and security. Before you could enter like the other guests, you entered into a queue where everyone needed to have their belongings and their person checked for weapons. You started to sweat.
“I will be escorting Y/N into the building, and three other high ranking Red Kings will follow us. We need to make sure Y/N gets to Petyr and Lysa because she will be carrying mercury. I suspect they will have security checking every person who enters. She and I will act as a newly married couple. Security won’t take us seriously, so we’ll pass. Once we pass, so does the mercury.”
Dom and you reach the front of the queue. You kiss him on the lips and giggle, hiding your nervousness of carrying a lethal poison. The security guard winks at Dom and lightly checks your bags and your person. He didn’t check your bra where the poison was hiding.
You and Dom pass by security and you lead the way to Petyr’s office where he would no doubt be up to something.
“We will be using mercury to take them both out. When Y/N reaches Petyr and Lysa, we will have them inhale the mercury, thus killing them. Once we kill them both, we leave. No bullshitting around.”
Charlotte stares at the screen watching your every move. Her eyes go from screen to screen keeping an eye out for anything.
“You jealous?” Yellow asked.
“No, why would I be jealous?” her eyes never straying from both of you.
“She kissed him. Y/N kissed him right on the mouth, and it looked like he enjoyed it,” Yellow smugly smiled.
“Good. It convinced the lazy security guard,” Charlotte pressed a button and it switched to a Red King deposing a body. “I’m not jealous of Y/N.”
“She’s pretty,” Yellow teased.
“She is, but she doesn’t love Domeric,” Charlotte switched back to you and Domeric rushing to an elevator. You pressed one of the higher floors. “She’s in love with someone else.”
The elevator smelled of alcohol as per usual. You looked to Domeric, feeling the exact same as you when Ramsay took you along for his first hit.
“You’re doing great,” Domeric smiled. “Are you sure he’s in his office?”
“That’s where he does his scheming. He can watch over everyone from there. And if your spies are correct, he will most likely signing endless amounts of paperwork tying him to this property and any of Lysa’s assets.”
The doors opened, and you immediately felt a hand hit your head and cover your mouth. Your head rung in pain, sending you back. You felt tape go over your mouth fast. Your e/c eyes looked over to see Domeric struggling against two stronger men.
“You’re coming with me,” your attacker grunted. Before he blindfolded you, Domeric was punched and knocked out. His attackers dragged him away before any of you could do anything about it. The cloth went over your eyes, and you felt being dragged away.
You were getting used to this feeling. Damn Boltons.
The attacker took you a room. That you were sure of. The room was temperature controlled and no one else was there. He sat you in a chair where he tied your hands together in front of you. Your ankles were tied to the chair as well, and that same rope was wrapped around your torso and the back of the chair.
You tried listening around for any other clue to where you were. You only heard echoes. Nothing else was in the room. Just you, your attacker, and the chair. This was planned out. Either Petyr knew you were coming or Petyr had been watching you this entire time. You couldn’t decide what was scarier.
The attacker left the room without any word of goodbye. The door slammed behind him leaving you alone in the room.
But you had hope. Ramsay was coming for you. He was bringing all of his men with him. He coming to save you. He told you that. He promised you that.
Then you thought of what happened. How Brad mocked and laughed at you when you looked to the door. Ramsay didn’t come then. What if he didn’t come now?
The bad thoughts started to flood in.
What if Ramsay wasn’t coming for you? What if his word meant nothing? Where had he been this entire time? Why didn’t he try to call you? Why didn’t he try at all? Where had he been? Did he even care about you? Did he care at all? Where was he?
Where was he?
You listened to the door hoping for something or someone. You couldn’t scream. You couldn’t move much. The only thing you saw was the darkness of the blindfold. Not much to work with, but you did have your hands in front of you.
You started to feel around the knots and rope. You tugged and the rope connected to your ankles tightened. This was one long rope. You nodded your head, commending your attacker making efficient use of one long rope. You had to find one end of the rope. Once you did, you could untangle yourself from this.
You felt your phone vibrate in your jeans. Your phone. Your fingers tried to reach your pocket as your phone still vibrated. The tension and restricted movement prevented you from reaching anything more than an inch away from you.
You tried again. You’re not going to let this stop you. You had gotten this far. Your hand reached as far as it could.
You heard the door creak slowly open. A pair of feet walked across the room to you in silence. You sat straight up, but you felt chills run up your spine as if Death himself had walked into your presence.
“Well, well, well,” you could hear Brad’s disgusting smile in your ear. “Who do we have here?”
#bang bang!#ramsay bolton#ramsay snow#ramsay x reader#ramsay snow imagine#ramsay bolton imagine#game of thrones#game of thrones fanfiction#game of thrones fanfic
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2, 80, 152, 154 for Éothíriel, please :)
Other prompts are under the cut! :)
2) “Not you again…” (Canon)
“Not you again,” Eomer grumbles.
“Eomer!” Cries Eowyn, horror plain her voice.
“Yes, me again,” Lothiriel chirps, unfazed by his less-than-pleasant welcome. “And it will be ‘me again’ until my cousin asks for a different chaperone.”
“Which I will not,” said cousin adds, grinning at both of them over Eowyn’s shoulder.
“Chaperone,” Eomer grumbles. Gondorian courting methods are entirely too stuffy for his taste. Eowyn, however, seems not to mind them, as long as she is still able to spend time in her Steward’s presence.
As it is, his little sister is staring daggers at him until he begrudgingly offers the princess his elbow. Her touch is dainty, proper, and barely-there, as if it discomforts her to touch him. They stroll aimlessly around the gardens for a while, a “respectable” distance behind Faramir and Eowyn. Neither of them speak, though he knows silence comes as easily to her as it does to Pippin.
The sudden press of her fingers at his elbow after they round another corner startles him. She must feel his flinch because she offers him a wry smile, nodding down at a particularly colorful flower. “Do you know what this flower is, my lord?”
“Gardening is not amongst my strong suits,” he admits. “So no, I do not.”
“Hm, let me think,” she says, peering at the flower with apparent interest. She looks and looks and looks–Eomer can feel his irritation mounting.
He knows very well she is Imrahil’s daughter, Faramir’s favorite cousin, and not a person of little importance to Eowyn, either, who has so few female companions in Gondor, but he cannot stop himself from finally spitting out, “Are you quite finished, my lady?”
She blinks innocently up at him. “Yes, I remembered its name. A peony. It symbolizes a wish for a happy life and a happy marriage.”
“Thrilling,” Eomer answers, unable to keep the sarcasm from his voice.
The princess remains unfazed, saying, “Isn’t it? Perhaps Eowyn would like–oh, but where have they gone?”
The garden is empty. Neither Eowyn’s blonde head nor Faramir’s darker one are anywhere in sight.
“Oh, dear,” Lothiriel says in an entirely unconvincing tone, “I suppose they will have to continue on without us.”
He blinks down at her in surprise. “You…planned this?”
“Not all of us Gondorians enjoy stuffy traditions,” she answers with a smile. “And I like Eowyn. She and Faramir have earned their happiness, don’t you agree?”
“Yes,” he murmurs, staring at her as if seeing her for the first time. Surely, she has not always been so lovely? It must be the sun-soaked garden, or the heady smell of the spring flowers, that are making him notice the raven-sheen to her hair, the dark depths of her eyes, the flush of pink in her cheeks.
Eomer’s hands move of their own accord to pull the nearest flower–the peony–and he tucks it into her hair, just behind her ear, before his common sense has the chance to catch up with him. The pink in her cheeks darkens, but a small smile plays at her lips as well. “You do know you have just wished me a happy life and a happy marriage, do you not?”
“I can think of no thing you deserve more,” is his honest answer.
This time, when her arm comes to rest in his again, there is nothing dainty–or barely-there–about her touch.
80) “Let’s run away together.” (Canon)
As Aunt Ivriniel launches into her third story concerning the local delicacies of Dol Amroth, Lothiriel can see the King of Rohan’s head dip dangerously close to the rim of his soup. Hiding a smile behind her hand, she lays her free one at the top of his wrist.
Just as she suspected, he all but shoots into an upright position, coming out of his daze at a warrior’s pace.
“It is only me,” she murmurs.
Lothiriel sees, rather than hears, his sigh of relief. “Thank Bema for that.”
“Is my aunt boring you, my lord?”
The spots of color in his cheeks, just visible above his beard, are utterly endearing. “I–I would not say boring–”
“It is alright if you do,” she interrupts, “Amrothos and I have said the same thing for years.”
She nods to where her youngest brother sits, exhibiting extremely unprincely behavior by picking at his nails with the tiny seafood fork. Eomer snorts, disguising his amusement with a cough as a few people shoot him curious looks.
Lothiriel considers the recklessness of what she is about to say, but the way that Eomer has failed to shift his hand out from under hers gives her courage where she might have hesitated. “How good are you at escape plans, my lord?”
His eyebrow arches, but he answers readily enough, saying, “I was not made a marshal of the Mark without knowing how to move stealthily, my lady.”
“Good,” she whispers, “for I intend to show you something much more exciting than Dol Amroth’s stew recipes.”
She departs the table first, complaining of a headache. Ada merely waves her off with a sympathetic smile–he loves his sister, truly, but even he knows how long-winded she becomes after two glasses of wine–but Elphir frowns, clearly suspecting some mischief.
Always too wise for his own good, is her oldest brother.
Eomer must manage his own exit graciously enough, for he meets her on the stairs leading down towards the shore in nearly record time. Emboldened by their success, she slips her hand into his, though she could make this climb blind-folded, and he has a warrior’s grace in nearly everything he does.
Eventually, they reach the shore, coming to stand along the sea-wall she knows so well. “Look up,” she orders, gently.
“Bema,” he says, “I have never seen so many stars.”
“It is my favorite view in all of Dol Amroth,” Lothiriel admits.
“Then it is mine as well,” Eomer answers, and something in his tone makes her shiver, despite the warmth of the sea-breeze.
She can feel him shift, behind her, and then he is behind her in truth, his arms slipping around her to pull her back against the warm, strong breadth of his chest. Lothiriel bites her lip to keep from smiling and threads her fingers through his.
“This is,” Eomer says, his breath hot against the shell of her ear, eliciting another round of shivers, “infinitely preferable to listening to your aunt wax poetic about shellfish.”
Lothiriel could not agree more.
152) “Stop texting me weird stuff late at night!” (Modern AU)
His phone buzzing at 2:30 in the morning is not the way Eomer would prefer to be woken up. In fact, he’d like to not be woken up at all, seeing as how Derby season was only a few weeks away, and he’d need every second of sleep he could get between now and then to properly function.
Groaning, wondering if it was Eowyn, fretting to him about her impending wedding, or more likely, Theodred, complaining about one horse or another, he lifts his phone.
Blinking at the unfamiliar number, and the even more perplexing text, Eomer can only stare at his phone in confusion. It must be the wrong number, he thinks, and sets his phone back down with a grumble.
A week later, he’s forgotten the text entirely, too caught up in preparing Firefoot for the races to worry about a surely accidental message from a random number.
But then it happens again: slightly earlier, and on a Saturday night, when he and Aragorn have agreed to meet up for a beer.
“What the hell,” he says.
Aragorn peeks over his shoulder and snorts at the text. “Interesting topic of discussion, Eomer.”
“I didn’t start this,” he protests. “I don’t even know who’s sending these messages–”
He’s not fast enough to stop his friend from snatching the phone from his hand and reading the other text about the damn penguins. The look on Aragorn’s face after he’s read it is horribly, terrifyingly smug. “I think,” he says, smirking, “someone’s got a crush on you, Eomer Eomundson.”
Eomer rolls his eyes. “I think some kid has the wrong number.”
“Why don’t you answer and find out?” Aragorn prompts.
But Aragorn and Arwen–his wife of two years come summertime, not that either of them would let anyone forget it–are notorious matchmakers, and Eomer is not a fool.
“No,” he says, tone final.
And he holds to it. At least, he does until he gets another message, three weeks later, after Firefoot makes it through semi-finals.
Eomer mutters a curse, finally texting back in the hope that the person–prankster, kid, weird veterinarian, whoever–would finally leave him be.
The response is immediate, and weirdly enough, normal:
For some reason, that’s almost more disarming than the texts themselves.
Belatedly, he realizes this person must know it’s him they’re texting, making him the only one in the dark. Against his better judgment, he finds himself saying:
Eomer hesitates–it could be anyone texting him. A nasty prank from one of his exes, a less-than-tasteful joke headed by Merry and Pippin, or truly a wrong number after all…but he agrees, anyways, blaming the insanity on the stress of the season, of the fact that Eowyn was about to be married and move thousands of miles away, for his lapse in judgement.
The next morning finds him wired off two cups of coffee, anxiously tapping his leg underneath the slightly ramshackle table. He doesn’t recognize anyone–a good sign, and a bad one–and he’s honestly debating leaving when there’s the sudden appearance of a hand at the opposite corner of the table. In said hand is a moderately-sized pebble.
“I didn’t think you’d come,” comes a familiar voice, warm with amusement.
He looks up to find Lothiriel–Faramir’s cousin Lothiriel, who he hasn’t seen since she left two years before to do a stint with some endangered species protection agency–smiling down at him. She’s always been pretty–not that he’d have admitted it before now, because she was Faramir’s cousin and younger than Eowyn to boot–but she looks nothing short of beautiful now, her hair longer than ever, her figure more filled out, a smattering of–frankly–adorable freckles across the bridge of her nose. Abruptly, he’s reminded of that one, ill-timed kiss at her graduation party that they’d both agreed never to discuss again.
Apparently, they hadn’t been in as much agreement as he’d thought.
He’s strangely happy about that.
“Well,” he says, reaching out to pluck the pebble from her hand, “I wasn’t about to be outdone by a bunch of animals.”
Lothiriel’s smile is worth every hour of missed sleep.
(She doesn’t stop texting him weird things late at night, even when they’re married.
)
154) “There’s only one bed…” (Modern AU)
Lothiriel isn’t sure if she wants to strangle Pippin or kiss him, for pulling such a stunt.
“Come to Hobbiton!” Her supposed friend had said. “Merry and I’ll put you up!”
But Pippin had failed to mention that Merry had invited Eomer as well, and that both he and Merry had live-in girlfriends now, the pair of them wouldn’t mind sharing the guest room, would they?
“Besides, we all shared a room for Eowyn and Faramir’s wedding!”
Well, they had, but it had been a very large room, with eight separate beds for the bridal party, and three other women–Tauriel, a friend of Eowyn’s from roller-derby, Wilfled, Eowyn’s cousin, and Arwen, Aragorn’s obscenely pretty and kind wife–there as well.
Eomer must be thinking something similar, if the muttered cursing is anything to go by.
“Eomer, it’ll be fine,” she finds herself saying. “We’re both adults, the bed is plenty large. It’ll…it’ll be like a sleepover!”
“We’re not a pair of teenage girls, Lothiriel,” Eomer answers, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Kindly refrain from calling this weekend a ‘sleepover’.”
“Well, fine,” she says, determined not to let him catch on how much the idea of sharing a bed with him–Elbereth, just being in the same room as him–makes her pulse race, makes her thing horrible, dirty things about her best friend’s brother, “I’m taking the right side.”
Dinner manages to be a pleasant affair, despite it all. Diamond–Pippin’s girlfriend–and Estella–Merry’s girlfriend–are exceedingly friendly, and balance out Merry and Pippin’s tendency towards the inane with grace. Eomer relaxes after his third whiskey enough to smile at her when she tells some story about Amrothos embarrassing himself at his latest sailing competition. His smile is as handsome as ever and she’s very, very glad that the wine has already put color into her cheeks.
This is fine, she thinks, it’ll be fine.
It is not so fine, however, when they manage to stumble their way to the guest bedroom after one last drink. Lothiriel has to nearly hurl herself into her suitcase in her hurry to look away when Eomer carelessly flings his shirt over his head. She shimmies out of her jeans, trying–and failing–not to notice how the noise from his side of the room abruptly stops as she wiggles into the old t-shirt of Erchirion’s she usually sleeps in. She would have brought pants if she’d known she’d be sharing a bed, but as it is, she hadn’t. As if things weren’t awkward enough.
Lothiriel crawls into bed, trying to ignore the frantic thrum thrum thrum of her heart in her ears. It’s only made worse when Eomer slides in beside her, the heat of him nearly unbearable, even under the thin sheet.
“The light,” he says, voice strangely hoarse.
She nods, flipping the switch and blanketing the room in darkness.
It does little to help: she feels hyper-aware of everything. The sound of his breathing. The smell of whatever shampoo he uses. The gentle brush of his hand over her jaw–wait.
“Eomer?” She asks in a tiny voice.
“Lothiriel,” he says, and Elbereth, she can feel his nose nearly against hers, his breath a hot gust horribly, wonderfully close to her mouth, “tell me if…tell me if this isn’t–”
She laughs, a quiet huff in the stillness of the room. “You are,” she says, reaching out blindly and finding his shoulder, sliding her hand until she finds the back of his neck, “so incredibly thick-headed, Eomer Eomundson.”
His kiss is exactly what she expected and not: passionate, of course, and achingly, wonderfully good, but infused with so much tenderness that she could nearly cry from it. The press of his mouth and the heat of his hands is made better by the dark, by the way he pulls back to kiss her forehead before trailing a string of kisses along her jaw, down her neck–
Merry glares at both of them, the following morning, bags apparent under his eyes.
Pippin, however, looks positively gleeful. “You’re welcome,” he tells her.
“Oh, eat your food,” she says, half-heartedly, because Eomer’s hand is in hers under the table, and she can’t recall feeling this happy in a very, very long time.
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No one here (Katlaska) - matryoshka
A/N: Hello, this is my first time writing a fic ever and it’s a self-indulgent Katlaska mess. I am nervous as hell, but also excited, and I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I enjoy writing it. It also was not proofread because I wanted to post it near Alaska’s crowning anniversary, since it sort of set on that time. So here. This is just a flurry of 20k+ of Katlaska fluff, angst, and awkward smut.
This fic is a bit like my baby, and it is originally inspired by a song entitled, “No one here” by Moon88. If you want, you could listen to it, while reading the parts nearing the end.
It also jumps in time a lot, so I put these (//) as markers and I’ve italicized the ones where they were just recalling or flashbacks.
I apologize in advance if it’s all over the place, but it is my first time, and I’m rambling. Anyways, hope you enjoy! (((((also, i don’t have a tumblr account yet, but i’ve decided to go by the name matryoshka, hello))))
Alaska just finished one of her gigs in the U.K., and is currently riding her uber to her hotel. She is exhausted; the high of performing and bleeding theatrically onstage, which she very much loves, is already wearing off. She changed into Justin’s clothes, took off her wig and nails, since she will head back to the hotel alone, but opted to keep Alaska’s face on, too tired and impatient to head home. Home. A laughing Brian, all teeth and air and wailing and the smell of cigarettes, flashes in her head. But she halts that thought since she doesn’t get home for a week at least, or she might not get back home ever again.
She feels exhausted, she can feel Alaska slipping away despite not completely dedragging yet. She feels Alaska dozing off, leaving Justin alone with his thoughts, thoughts of a very specific Russian transvestite hooker. She blames it on the silence of the ride, where his and her thoughts run wildly, not needing to filter them since he is alone. He wished Alaska had drunk, but he knows the rules, he put them up himself. But he just wished for tonight, he could be drunk. Justin rarely gets lonely, but these past few days have been heavy. It is a very rare occurrence, he has been used to traveling and touring, but there were days that he feels homesick. Fuck him for being a Pisces, needing constant companionship.
He doesn’t think of her coffee date with Aaron last week because he will think of the nearing wedding ceremony of Aaron and Chad, which will lead him to think of their dead cat, and then the T, and then that ex, and then those moments. He doesn’t want to think of them, so he thinks of a retired substitute math teacher, dying of lung cancer, that he might not ever see again, but he allows himself some happy thoughts. It’s kinda bittersweet. He thinks of how he got here.
It all started after he had been crowned as the All Stars 2 Winner which is accompanied by the title of the Queen of Snakes. He felt like everything was an epic rollercoaster, he had already peaked just to be continuously dropped downwards and downwards. He felt very bad and undeserving of love and everything, and for a while, he thought he deserved that. But those were also the times where he is most thankful for his family, friends, and her fans, and surprisingly for Katya. They all defended her and supported him when some of her “fans” turned on her and went with the bullying of other fans, but again he thought he deserved that. Justin was hurt, and so was Alaska.
He apologized to Alaska, for hurting her and staining her reputation. But the Glamtron princess isn’t weak like Justin. She stood up, owned the title, made it her brand, and held her head up high. Sometimes Justin was thankful for Alaska, but at the same time, he wished that sometimes Alaska would hurt too, share his pain, so that Justin doesn’t have to carry it all by himself. Alaska would take all the praise, the glory, and she was like Justin’s child, so he would protect her, keep her from harm, he takes all the pain, so he set all his rules. But no matter what he does, however long the list of rules is, he can never be as perfect as Alaska, and he thinks that’s good. He doesn’t need it, but Alaska does.
It felt like a blessing in disguise. The flurry of all of his mishaps and hate had carried him, and he was lost in it, until Katya showed up, pulled him right into the eye of the storm, and it was peaceful. It felt right at that time, the storm was also about him not just her, he needs to be in the eye with Alaska, so that Alaska and him could be both at peace; he learned to be fair to himself. Justin did have a tendency to put people on a pedestal, and he needs to start breaking the habit. Katya said he could do it, and Brian helped him along the way. Even though they used to be rivals and weren’t very close, somehow Justin believed him, and he was glad he did.
//
“Care for a fucking?” Katya suddenly approached her as she entered Logo’s building, Justin thought maybe Katya just finished shooting an episode of UNHhhh, she was wearing her signature short frizzy blonde hair, a red, black, and white dress, her seemingly unending supply of eyeball jewelry, and her tiny hands; she’s at her prime, he notices.
Justin just laughs at the question, “What?”
“Well, the last meeting we had, it was stated as a fact in the PSA that your boyfriend was a total asshole. Thought I’d help.” Katya just shrugs.
“Ex-boyfriend, by the way, but no thanks, gallant friend, not today, I’ll call you when I can if the offer still stands,” Justin just entertains Katya’s weirdness, he thinks he’ll never get used to her, which is a nice and amusing thing.
“Alright, you can contact me through my dead dad by the beach, join me for my smoke break?”
Justin looks at Katya, quizzically, but just nods, and Katya smiles.
“Alright, Katy, what are you trying to do? Should I run now?” Justin said as Katya brought her at the parking lot, seemingly empty.
“No, I take my smoke breaks pretty seriously, just like how I take myself seriously, well” Katya says in a matter-of-factly character accent Justin had heard before but couldn’t quite name yet, as she lights a cigarette, tries to offer one to Justin, but Justin declined and opted to sit down as Katya crouched down, not trying to hide anything and letting her dress fall down.
“What a lady,” Justin comments.
“Augh! A lady? Woman, excuse me.” Katya corrects her, and Justin chuckles.
“Back to my point, where was I, Oh! Right, I am eccentric, but I do take myself seriously, and even though I seem like a very irresponsible person, I think I do know how to take care of myself, it’s just that I am kind of low maintenance, not really.” Katya was now staring at Justin, looking conflicted, as if asking for help. But Justin couldn’t help her, not when Justin doesn’t quite get Katya’s point either.
“Alright, my point is, apples and oranges, I don’t do dating, but oh mama, I would like to fall in love, honey, you know,” he looks at Justin, but Justin is still lost, “okay, back to my point, apples and oranges, God, this made sense in my head, I swear. I don’t do dating, not yet, but you should take yourself seriously as well. I mean… Maybe, actually, try and take yourself less seriously… Like, it’s not your fault, your boyfriend’s an asshole—ex-boyfriend, good riddance by the way!”
“Alright, alright, Katya, calm down, what’s the moral here, honey?” Justin cuts her off because even if Justin is entertained, he was also confused and very intrigued. Katya inhales from her cig.
“Well, you know, how Catholics have this proverb–”
“Now, you’re bringing Jesus up? Was this some sort of propaganda, a recruitment, a conversion of some kind?” Justin cackles, and Katya laughs with him, drops the almost finished cigarette stick, stomps on it.
“No, yeah, I just mean, let me finish, will you?” She looks at Justin challengingly, and Justin makes an action of literally zipping his mouth, then he bit his hand, Katya laughs for a bit and lights another cigarette, Justin gets a little concerned for her, “we have a proverb, and it goes like, when they throw you stones, throw them some bread,” Justin releases his hand to laugh at the saying, but Katya glares at her while trying to hold her laughter as well.
“Bitch, you promised, okay, well right now, that saying is bullshit, and I would like you to throw a boulder at him ablazed with fire and blades and all sorts of STDs.” Katya demonstrates the whole thing, with the aid of her cigarette.
“You know I’m not an angry person, also I am not your BFF, I also would like to apologize for calling you cold before, but yeah, my point is, if you would not do that, I am asking for your permission to allow me because not only did he spoil my favorite show, he also hurt my favorite.” Justin was taken aback by her last words. Katya was taken aback as well by her own words. “I may not be an angry person, but I am a passionate and compassionate woman, yes ma’am.” Katya adds as a sort of explanation.
Justin takes Katya’s cigarette, stood up, inhales a smoke, and exhales them. He watches the smoke that left his mouth, watched them disappear in the atmosphere, and thought of the consequences that single smoke had to the world, to other people. It seemed very metaphorical to him, like a euphoria, a sign, and he’s thinking too much, and he has to remind himself to gravitate back in the moment. How come Katya is always in the moment; it frustrates him, he looks down at Katya, and see that the queen had been staring at her. Katya smiles. The moment seems very poetic in a way the dissipating smoke, the cigarette from her “rival”, said “rival” consoling him in her own way, and how thankful he actually is, and how Katya actually helped him. She helped him, without him even knowing he needed help.
He wants to say a lot to Katya, questions to ask because he is confused as fuck, but for now he decides, he’ll give his own meaning to this moment. He’ll have fun on his own half of this story, this moment, he’ll give it his own meaning, since he thinks, it was intended to help him. Things had been—awkward, in a sense, between the two of them, but he wants to laugh and argue with Katya, and really be best friends with her, but for now, he says one thing:
“Thanks, Ca-tie-yuh,” he chuckles, as he still looks at Katya, mouth wide open, rolling her eyes.
He lets the cigarette stick fall down, as it is about to die, stomps on it, says something about Bro’Laska shooting as a farewell. And he looks back, and sees Katya staring at the sky, killing herself with a newly lighted stick. And he finds that some of the unnoticed weight has been lifted in his chest, along with the smoke, he exhaled.
He could hear Katya saying “Science,” in his head, and he let that thought stay there.
He did phone Brian later, and watched some of Katya’s performances when he has the time. And that’s how they found themselves in Justin’s hotel for the first time, full and bloated from room service, debating whether to watch Game of Thrones or Golden Girls. They watched the Golden Girls, since Justin claimed to be too tired to start a new series, especially one as complicated and interesting as GoT, and Brian let him win for now, but he said Justin owes him a slumber party per se, which Justin had agreed to.
They didn’t talk about the smoke break they had a while ago again that night, and Justin was thankful and contented. They fell asleep curled together in Justin’s bed. If he dreamt of white teeth, blue eyes, and smoker laugh, he silently wishes he had his alarm off, and if the future scares him, he pushes his worries aside along with his hopes of a future, and he dances around his insecurities for a bit; he’s not a dancer, but who said he couldn’t try.
They woke up together the next day, had breakfast together the next morning, discussing religion, science, love, cats and dogs, and the weather.
Katya recommended that Justin watch her webseries in YouTube, “Take a vacation from yourself. Every Friday with Katya,” the ending credits read, and Justin treated it as if reading a proverbial book like the bible or a Buddhist book. In some weird way, it did help Justin, and he has started to understand Katya more.
//
The uber pulled to a stop, in front of Justin’s hotel. He collected his stuff, and tipped the uber driver too much probably. The uber driver smiled at him, and Justin would be down and try to flirt because he is cute, tan, sexy, nice teeth, blue eyes, pretty well built, seems interested, except he’s no Brian, and Justin can’t, so he offered a polite smile back, turned around, sighed, and went in the hotel.
Justin has a complex relationship with hotels, he loves that they are impermanent, and hates the fact that somehow he is always in them, he feels impermanent, even though that’s not what his traveling implies, he still feels it, and he thinks he can never escape that thought. For a long time, he had wanted a home, he needed a home, not because he is homeless, not physically nor financially nor literally, but emotionally, probably. He is a living testament to the fact that Los Angeles doesn’t find you a home, it finds you jobs. And the jobs give him the hotels. Nevertheless, he misses home. He thinks of Brian. But instead of calling him, he opens the shower and gets in.
//
From then on Brian made it his business to know who Justin dated, who Justin had slept with, who is trying to get on his pants. He feels more involved in Justin’s sex and love life than his own. Brian had see to it that if he detests any of Justin’s “suitors,” he would scare them off. It was always either they got scared, or they go after what’s in his pants too, and that’s how Brian decides who’s good for Justin. As many as possible, he wants to get rid of all the race chasers in Justin’s life. It was like an automatic switch saying ‘must protect at all costs’ had switched on in his head. He doesn’t question much of the things he has on his head nowadays. He has learned to just surrender and stop making sense of everything in his head, not everything has to have reason.
“Oh, that guy looks like a race chaser,” Katya whispers into Alaska’s ear at a club once, when she noticed the alien princess was eyeing a man who had been reciprocating the looks.
“Shut up, don’t judge a book by its cover, he’s hot.” Alaska smirks and bats her eyelashes at the guy, about to walk to their direction.
“Oh yeah, I’m not judging a book by its cover, already been inside him, so”
“Oh god, I hate you.” Alaska then says shifting her attention to Katya alone, grabbing her arm and walking away from the man. Katya enjoys the attention, plus a race chaser removed from the list.
It is not even like Brian was attempting to make Justin celibate nor tarnish his name. And it is definitely not because Brian was trying to start something with Justin. Well, he wasn’t trying to start something now, he used to, more than once, tried, but that’s a different thing altogether.
He was doing his best to be subtle, but also terrifying to the men. So far, Justin hadn’t noticed it or maybe he did, but opted to not say anything. Nevertheless, it was a surprise to Brian how easy doing this had been. Justin doesn’t need to be with a lot of man, he learns. Brian could count in his one hand the number of guys he had scared away. He didn’t believe it at first, but then things had made sense for him. Justin just got over a relationship, or maybe he has always been this selective. He is busy and Brian wasn’t making it easier for men to come near him as well. He patted himself at the back, and cursed himself right away for doing so.
Brian wondered how his protectiveness had all begun, maybe it was because Justin just has something on him that brings out the protective side of everyone. Justin was Michelle’s baby, Justin was Sharon’s baby, he still was. Brian felt something weird at that thought, but he decided to ignore it. He and Justin had finally started becoming friends, and yes, his defensive side could root from his seemingly unhealthy crush on boy’laska that had been going on for a long while now. He blames it on the fan inside him that never seemed to go away, well, it wasn’t hard to know why he won’t either.
Brian’s thoughts are messy, moving on, competing against him hadn’t helped either. Seeing the epic tantrum live hadn’t help.
In a weird twisted way, which seems to be a very normal thing for Brian, seeing all those sides to Alaska and Justin, he had become more endeared. Some people would stop admiring someone when they got too close to see what’s really in there; however, for Brian’s case, an epic tantrum or ten couldn’t make him turn his back, it made him even more interested and fixated, as if not being able to keep his eyes away. Brian doesn’t see any problem with it for now, so he lets it be. Besides, they were finally becoming friends. Brian denies the fact that he’ s thinking of this a step closer to becoming something with Justin, something more. For now, he is contented.
Justin, of course, notices. He noticed how Katya and Brian’s presence had become a more constant thing in his life, how Brian seems to be a god of timing and always asks him to accompany him whenever he has a date or a seemingly interested trade around him. However, he chooses Brian anyways, so it’s not like he blames Brian if he hasn’t gotten laid for almost three weeks now. Brian’s company can never be bad for him. For now, he lets it be, albeit being confused.
They started to become closer the following shows, some promo for the currently airing All Stars 2, and the Christmas Queens tour also started, Justin would join Brian during his smoke breaks, although he had abstained from smoking, he knows how important Brian’s smoke breaks are for him, so Justin just brings his own pack of chocolates, usually they are from fans, while Brian finishes his pack of cigarettes. They talk about their plans after the tour, who Justin slept with, seeing, which is a rare topic since Justin had been lacking sexual encounters, Brian feels a bit guilty at that so he moves on to talk about a fan encounter, then the title Queen of snakes, then geography, literature, Buddhist philosophies, music, the government, basically everything except what’s developing between them, in Justin’s case at least, sometimes Katya dances, and there were also times when they just sit at the pavement, enjoying the weather and the silent company of each other.
“You seem to have gained weight during this tour, Lasky,” Sharon approaches her once while they were preparing for their last show of the Christmas Queens Tour.
Alaska turned her head fast to look at Sharon, “Should I be concerned?”
Sharon chuckles then quickly replies, “No, baby, I mean you still fit your clothes alright,”
Justin was suddenly worried that maybe his carelessness would hurt Alaska once more, he tried to look back on all the chocolates he has finished, he thought of how he is getting older and his metabolism must be aging as well, and so he mentally organized a new diet plan and try out new routines. Katya could see that the comment had bothered Alaska, she had become silent looking in the mirror, so she decided to speak and distract the taller queen.
“I think it’s a good thing. Yes, no need to be worried. I was pretty concerned before that you are malnourished, and thank gawd that my smoke breaks made you eat chocolates. I should probably get on with that, tryna be sober by the grace of god himself, y’know. And maybe Greg would love some curves, it’s whateva” She said the latter part in her Trish accent, and everybody laughed, although the mention of a Greg made Alaska feel uneasy.
“Well, I’ll be sure to tell Greg when he’s out on parole that he’d be better off with me.” Ginger said after the laughter had died down, and Katya laughed again.
“Anyone would be better than Trish and her dumpster,” Sharon interjected, which made Katya laugh harder if that was even physically possible. Alaska would want to say something but she was confused and got stuck on a Greg.
“You all are too mean—too mean—too mean to my cousin,” Katya wheezed in between laughs.
“So… who’s Greg from Parole?” Alaska drawled beside Katya after she had calmed down, but the question made the Russian hooker laugh the loudest.
Alaska was genuinely confused now, she feels stupid, Justin feels stupid, she looked at Katya, then to everybody else, some were laughing, some were looking at her in disbelief as if saying gurl are you for serious. Well, Alaska would just want someone to answer her question.
“Wait, Lasky, baby, you really don’t know?” Sharon asked and Katya stopped laughing, and looked at Alaska. She frowned, the attention kind of made her a bit more self conscious.
“Yeah, I am for serious.” Alaska half drawled, half chuckled looking at everyone, “Are you dating someone and I did not know? I am offended, Miss Ka-tee-yuh.” She crossed her arms and did her half-pout, half-showing-all-her-teeth.
“AH! I am the offended one, Miss Thunderfun. Clearly I have mentioned Greg in my Trish videos.” And alright, Alaska feels stupid and embarrassed now.
“Oh,”
“Yeah, oh.” Katya just smirked at her.
“I thought Greg was, y’know, an actual guy,” Alaska tried to explain.
“Yeah, as if any guy, even someone from parole, would want this whore.” Ginger said as everyone went back to doing their own thing. Katya looks like she was about ready to defend herself when Alaska spoke up.
“Well, my roommate and my friends all want Katya, I mean” at that Katya looks at her “Oh, thank you! Joanne, I forgive you.” Katya runs to her with her arms wide open, ready to hug.
“And by your roommate and your friends, you don’t happen to mean your dear friend, Justin, now, don’t you Alaska?” Ginger tried and Katya stopped just as she was about to hug Alaska to look at Ginger, Alaska was taken aback, so she just chuckled and replied jokingly, “Well, I mean a princess- a queen rather- should be generous and giving, so,” she looks Katya from head to toe as if assessing her and continues, “so I wouldn’t mind, I think,” she smirked as she drawled out the last words. “OH! Is that an actual invitation, Margaret” Katya said too enthusiastically, looking really interested, and suddenly Alaska was too aware of how close Katya was in her vicinity.
The scene garnered laughs and some all hail my queen and some that’s why you’re not my queen, mostly from Ginger, a thank you kiss in the cheek from Katya, and a concerned gaze from Sharon.
“Alright, lesbians, show starts in 10 minutes, hurry up. Everyone complete? Feeling okay?” Michelle asked them, breaking everyone’s laughs, “I am ready, eager, and willing!” Katya answered. And just like that, Alaska feels the mood in the room change, and they have been on lots of shows together, but it never ceases to amaze Justin, the exact moment where their alter egos completely take over, and it’s all fun and sweat and jokes and artistry. Almost like Hakuna Matata.
The show went great, the numbers weren’t flawless but they are great, and the audience was all in for it, and that was great. Katya and Alaska’s banter was amazing, and everyone could feel their chemistry working for the greater good. Everyone noticed and they were all sold.
They did their final group number, thanked the audience, and had a quick photoshoot with everyone. For some reason, Katya and Alaska were extra close and clingy to each other, but Alaska has no problem with it, but maybe some have.
After the show they all and went their own ways. Alaska dedragged, took off his outfit and hair, put on some plain black sweatshirt and a pair of black Zara jeans, but he kept her mug on. He decided that he has time to do an aftershow and looked around for people to join him. He tried for the upper floor, expecting to see a Russian hooker, but failed to see one.
“Hiiieee, I’m doing the after show, would you like to join me?” he asked the crowd upstairs. But only got a collection of “Oh, honey, sorry I’m tired.” “Maybe someone else is fitted at doing it with you?” “Sweetie, sorry, but I want to go sleep.” “I can’t appear there I’m too drunk,” “too high,”
“Oh, that’s alright. Thank you.” he replies politely and looks around for someone else, possibly more willing. He thinks that maybe it is because of the recent All Stars 2 drama that’s why some of the Ru girls wouldn’t want to appear at her After Show. But he shoves all those thoughts at the back of his mind, and continues to look for someone.
He spots Sharon beside a window, Sharon spots him as well, and he waves. He approached Sharon as she puts down a call.
“Who was that?” Justin asks.
“Chad, just asking how I am,” Sharon gives Justin a tight smile.
“Oh, that’s good to hear, he’s taking care of you.”
“Yeah, well I’m pretty low maintenance,”
“Yeah right, gurl, low maintenance, you mean you’re just like y’know, a handful,” Justin’s mockery earns a slap in the arm from Sharon, and they both laugh.
“So what is it?”
“Oh yeah, would you like to do an after show with me?”
“You didn’t do it with Katya?”
“Oh, well, I haven’t seen her yet.”
“I think she’s downstairs, I saw her before going up, looking for better reception.” Sharon tells him.
“You mean you don’t want to do it with me?”
“No, not really, just, I know you Lasky, you want to be with Katya.” Sharon tells Justin the things he’s been avoiding to admit, and it just makes Justin feels uneasy; how well Aaron can still read him, and usually he’ll be thankful, but sometimes, it just rubs off on him the wrong way, like rubbing salt on still open wounds, he wasn’t aware he still has, or he had just numbed himself and forced himself to believe he is okay. Sometimes, it’s just a slap on the face how he still hasn’t completely moved on, and he thinks he never will, and he convinces himself that it’s okay, but it’s just frustrating to him to see Aaron doesn’t have that problem.
“Yeah, okay, maybe I want to be with Katya, or maybe you just don’t want to be with me.” Justin accuses Sharon, and he feels stupid.
“Lasky, baby—” Sharon starts.
“No, don’t call me that.”
“I’m sorry, Justin.” And just like that, the way Aaron says his name, it has changed, Justin doesn’t fear it anymore, he breathes, he hadn’t realized he had been holding his breath. This change, he finds doesn’t hurt him like he expected it would. He had overreacted, and he tries to understand why.
“God, I’m sorry. That was stupid.” Justin apologizes, Sharon looks at him, concerned, “I just, I don’t know what happened.”
“So, Katya, huh? Maybe we should start talking with her.” Sharon offers.
“Well, okay. Shut up,” Justin tries his voice, and looks at Sharon, Sharon just hums, encouraging him to proceed.
“It happened after that ex, not you, but you know.”
“The ex who shall not be named,” Sharon nods, and Justin laughs a little at that.
“Well, we had a moment, she gave me like a euphoria—no more like, an enlightenment while all those shit had been happening. It just helped me, and I feel indebted to her, and I kind of admired her from then on.” Justin tries to explain. Now, that he is saying it, it had been months since he realized he was interested in Brian. Maybe that’s why he was also having less sex and less satisfying sex, in his side, at least. He sighs, and tried to go back to his point, “well, yeah that’s about it with her, and just recently, I think some of the queens have been avoiding me due to the drama that had transpired during All Stars. But she doesn’t, although, you know, I can already hear the people saying, Katya was robbed, but she doesn’t steer away from me, and he’s just too fucking nice, and attractive.” Justin groans, feeling stupid and hopeless, rambling to his ex and bff.
Sharon just laughs, “Lasky, baby, I’m sure that you don’t really need my help, but I am here to support you, and you know, if it helps, I am always on your side, alright,” Sharon kisses his forehead, at that. Justin feels comfort and nostalgia, but he doesn’t feel a leap in his heart, he is not in love with Aaron. He smiles at Aaron, saying thanks, but what he did not see was Katya looking, passing by them, just at that moment.
“And Justin, you are a stubborn, passionate, and a competitive twink, if you know you want something, I’m sure you would get it, or you know, I’m sure you don’t let opportunities pass you by. It’s just how it is. Also, you’re rich, you have a college degree, and you’re gorgeous, so get up and do that after show” Justin laughs at how stupid they both are, but he does stand up to leave, and look for a Russian hooker.
“Thank you, Aaron.” He smiles one last time before walking away.
He went to the floor below, and he did find Katya, but she seemed to be calling someone or filming. She was doing some stretching and some talking about her jellies and good fashion, Justin watched her from afar for a while before approaching her.
She was talking about some tips on learning other languages when Justin approached her.
“How many diseases do you have? Well, mental or physical, there’s too many to list.” Katya says, her eyes not leaving the screen. Justin enters the frame, and Katya introduces him as Ricardo, and they threw jokes for a little bit. Justin read the things written on the screen, and understood that Katya is doing some sort of live.
“I have to do an aftershow,” Justin says, “Do it,” Katya immediately says.
“None of the girls upstairs want to do it with me,”
“I’ll do it.”
Justin tongue pops at that, he gets his phone and they had fun, recording live the recording of an aftershow, with none other than, Katya Zamolodchikova, is sure to be a great experience.
They recorded their newly practiced dance routines, talked about Courtney’s wigs and other things Katya’s wearing that was borrowed, Katya did some dancing and tried to teach Justin how to do the splits, and they just had a lot of fun.
Katya proceeds to list things she claims to learn about Alaska that day, and Justin doesn’t get most of it, so he becomes open about his confusion, and Katya seems to be enjoying herself, so for now, Justin is contented.
“Listen, we are becoming friends, and that’s a good thing,” Katya leans in and so does Justin, Katya pull Justin into a half embrace, while she speaks and Justin pulls off funny, kissy faces to the camera.
“Yeah, it’s good for the goose, it’s good for the gander,” Justin adds,
“Yeah, and it’s also good for the general public.” And Justin agrees. Katya is indeed one of the most terribly kind person he’s ever met, and he feels grateful for meeting her.
He thinks for a while, trying to digest Katya’s words, and he laughs, “what does that mean?”
“I don’t know, I had too many milk and cookies,” Katya answers, Justin treasures the conversation, nonetheless. And they were back at their stupid jokes again.
Justin tried to compliment Katya as a dancer, but he wasn’t sure if he should mention All Stars yet, so he didn’t. Justin just enjoyed the show Katya is doing, and just spending time with her. This is something that Justin wishes he always had. Katya, spending time with her, hearing Katya’s smoker laugh, making Katya laugh the loudest; Fuck, he wants Brian. And again, fuck him for being a longing, clingy, addicted Pisces. Then he thinks, Brian is a Taurus, are Pisces and Taurus a good match.
Katya is now laughing, and her laugh pulls back Justin in the moment, Justin tries to understand her humor and tries to impress her by riding her shticks and jokes, he’s proud to say he gets most of it, but he still worries he might be wrong. But he pushes the fears aside and tries to have fun. Then they talked about Gia Gunn’s and Laganja’s music for a while until Justin’s phone battery charge is extremely low and they decided to end the recordings, they said their goodbye’s to both cameras.
“Okay, say goodnight Courtney,” Justin puts Katya in the frame once more, “Good Night,” Katya says in either a terrible or a practiced accent, Justin couldn’t decide yet.
“Bye,” they both say.
“Well, that went well,” Justin says after he pockets his phone.
“Yeah, yeah, that was fun.” Katya chuckles for a bit.
“So, um yeah, um,” Justin feels stupid once more, all his confidence from talking to Sharon suddenly overpowered by the fear of losing this, this easy atmosphere with Katya. He is torn between not wanting to risk losing this and wanting more with Katya. She doesn’t know what, but she was probably about to do something stupid, thankfully Katya spoke first.
“Hey, you still owe me a Game of Thrones Marathon,” Justin stares dumbstruck at Katya, “I mean, just saying, we only have a few shows left, so,” Katya offers.
“Absolutely,” Justin drawls in her Gia Gunn voice, “I thought you’d never ask,” Justin wasn’t sure if that was just him or Katya seemed a little bit nervous as well. She chuckled and accidentally dropped her phone in the process.
Justin hurriedly went down to pick it up, and before he was able to get up, Katya grabbed the side of his face, kissed his temple, grabbed her phone, and said “I’ll see you later, Ricardo,” Justin immediately looks up, but Katya was already walking away. Justin looked around, confused, but also red as fuck. He can feel his face burning, but he chuckles anyway because Katya is confusing both sexually and emotionally, and Justin? Justin is sold.
//
Justin had finished his shower; he looks at the wall clock.
2: 13 a.m.
He was starving.
He contemplated either ordering room service, calling Chipotle, or looking for the nearest 7/11. 7/11 always remind him of Brian, but he chooses the first one because he was too beat.
He ordered a salad and some vegetarian pizza; he was too tired to pick properly. He had some time to waste while waiting, so he closed his eyes for a bit, feeling exhaustion creep on him. He allowed himself a nap, figuring, his hunger won’t let him sleep that long and deep.
//
“You know; I would make all the snake emojis stop if I could. Although I did try,” Brian says too seriously for Alaska’s liking backstage while wiping away the last traces of Katya’s mascara, after a promo gig for All Stars they did together.
Alaska just laughs and focused on removing a very persistent nail, “yeah, but unfortunately you do not have the hypnotizing powers of the queen of snakes,” Brian now stares at her for a good few seconds, and Alaska had to look up and stop tugging at the nail, she appreciated Brian’s baby blues.
“I am serious here, Alaska.”
A beat. “I figured that out ,mama, thank you, but I am fine,” she tried ending the conversation there and return to tugging and biting off her nails when necessary.
She thought Brian had dropped the topic, but then she was being pulled around to face Brian. “Yeah? So then why are you not making any effort to remove Alaska? You know we’ll be heading out to dinner in a few minutes.”
Alaska was surprised by what Brian was implying. “It’s just- these nails are hard to pull off.” She drawls to try and lighten the mood.
“Well then, you wouldn’t mind if I help you wipe her away?” Brian says removing Alaska’s hair and setting it down at his now cleaned up desk.
“Um, yeah sure. Thanks.” Alaska hesitates for a second after pulling her final nail, but then Brian traps her by sitting on her lap.
“Well, I guess I’ll just enjoy this private show since you’re so eager, Mr. McCook.”
Brian laughs at that, “Hard to break old habits, Mother” He adds in his Maureen voice and proceeded to wipe Alaska off, and let Justin breathe.
“I am sorry; you know that right?” Brian starts again, as he is now applying makeup remover to Alaska’s whole face.
Alaska groans, the makeup remover is slightly warm on her face, she feels sticky, “I know, and it’s not even your fault–”
“It’s not your fault too,” Brian says, wiping away the now mixed, mashed, and messy make up colors on Justin’s face, hoping his doubts and insecurities would be wiped away along with it too.
“Except it is,” Justin contests which made Brian stop, and Justin opens his eyes now, which he immediately regrets, he could suddenly feel the sting in his eyes, he glances in the mirror beside them to avoid Brian’s blues, and he saw himself, Justin, free of the black and blue colors, uglier.
“You do not deserve any of that, Justin. I know it, and you should too” Justin was not prepared for the use of his own name, Brian grabs his face gently and forces Justin to look at him instead, everything suddenly felt too intimate, Justin wants to run and hide, but Alaska is no longer there.
Justin felt bare and ugly and he wants nothing but to either disappear or cry. He does the latter.
“Ahh, hall of famer, a crybaby. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Justin rambled repeatedly as he tried to cover his face and stop himself from crying. But Brian takes his arms away and pulls him in his chest, “Sshhh, I know, and it’s not even your fault,” Brian drawls in an attempt to mimic Alaska just moments ago, but his embrace got tighter, and he started showering Justin’s head with kisses. Justin clings back.
When they break apart, Justin clings on to one of Brian’s arms, for support and, well, for other reasons. He looks into Brian’s blues and somehow gets lost in them, he wishes he could send the gratitude across.
“Usually, I can deal with it. I’ve learned how to, but, I just—like, you suddenly brought all these emotions within me, and I just lost it.”
“Are they hot and bothered emotions? I mean, I’ve always been open and experimental, I could do with a snake once—”
“Shut up, I thought we were having a moment. Will you let me finish?” Justin mock glares at Brian, and Brian makes a zipping motion with his hands.
“I’ve learned to own up to my mistakes, grow from them; it’s a work in progress, you know. But these days have just been terrible. I was expecting backlash, but not to this extent. I haven’t talked to anyone about it, except for you.” Brian slides his arm to reach Justin’s hand now.
“To be perfectly honest, I am disappointed at some of your fans, I am a real fan, and I guess my opinions matter more since I am a fan, a colleague, a rival, and I could probably say I know you, and you know, you’re still my favorite.” Brian said, and then after a few moments of silence, he cracks an awkward and a nervous smile towards Justin, trying to get a response from him.
Justin had to laugh at that because Brian looks awkward, the timing is awkward, their positions are awkward, but he gets what Brian was trying to do. Usually Justin doesn’t understand Brian and Katya, but this time, it was hard not to get it. He wiped off his tears, pulled away from the hug, allowed a few beats of slience then sighed, “God, that was exhausting, I don’t feel like going out with the other girls now,” Justin says the confident drawl back on now.
“Alright, I’ll go tell them, so where do you wanna go?” Brian asks surprising Justin; he could probably never get used to Brian.
“Uhh, to my hotel, I guess, why?” Justin thinks, “Alright, I’ll just go te–” Just as Brian was about to stand from being sat on Justin’s lap, Joshua enters, with slight traces of Ginger on his face; he had probably hurried to dedrag to go out with the other girls.
“What’s taking you bitches too long—Oh, sorry?” Brian laughs and successfully stands up, Justin had to assist him since he was flailing a lot.
Justin just gives Joshua a small smile, nearing apologetic. “I’ll just change my clothes,” Justin excuses himself as Brian calms down.
Justin walked away while Joshua asked what just happened. He did not need to hear what Brian had to say, he allowed him to have fun and get creative with his share of the story.
“So what was that about?” Joshua asked as he watched Justin walk away, then returns his confused gaze at Brian.
“Nothing, really, I just helped Justin dedrag since he was taking forever, and gave him a much deserved show in the process to let him know how much I appreciate him and worship him.” Brian said raising his leg to a near 180 degree to emphasize his point.
Joshua just shakes his head, “I’m not gonna push further, since you are a stubborn old woman capable of thought, even though you are not completely rational. But, just be careful, Bri, you have a tendency to put people on pedestals or just you know, you can’t take care of yourself, that’s why you hate children, remember? Violet. Chachki. And well, you might have a type, but Alaska’s—Justin’s kind of like Jason, don’t you think?”
Brian looks offended for a second, “Thank you, I love keeping myself on my toes, it’s how I stay fit,” Brian moans and does a pose and smooches before laughing hysterically, but Joshua just glares at him and so Brian continues, “But um Justin is not like Jason. He’s actually the one who has the tendency to put people on pedestals, y’know, I mean with Sharon and all that, but not just with her. And maybe that’s why we’d be good for each other.” Brian pulls off a weird smile, and Joshua just looks at him at that.
“OH! by the way, we are no longer coming with,” he suddenly remembers, he was just thankful he had something to steer away from the topic.
“What?! All this wait for nothing?” Joshua grunts and gives Brian a disbelieving look, “Well, we are complex female women worth the wait, mawma” Brian shrugs and pulls off his tongue pop-drop combo.
Justin returns and joins the two of them, hair uncombed, wearing a Black Divine shirt, black jeans from Zara, Dickies shoes, and he is wearing his glasses. Brian thinks Justin looks miserable, exhausted, but very edible.
He also realized he had been staring when Joshua cuts his train of thought off, “Alright, lesbians, we’re gonna go ahead, have a good fuck!” he said as he walks off.
“Of course, I’ll be sure to tell you first all the gruesome details later!” Brian shouts back just before Joshua disappears from the hallway.
Justin looks at him, confused, “I told him we won’t be going,” as if to answer Justin’s question.
“We? So you’re not coming with them?” Justin looked even more confused as he combed his hair by his fingers, his fingers are very long and lean and his hair looked smooth and soft, Brian wanted to put both things into his mouth. He pushed that thought aside, and backtracked on Justin’s question.
“Well, I can’t leave you now, I have taken you under my custody, dearest Joanne Elizabeth Thunderfun.” Justin laughs at that, albeit still confused.
“You don’t have to do this, Katya. I’m fine.”
“I want to, unless, do you not want me to?
“Alright, mother, where to?” Justin sighs, playing along with Brian.
“I thought you said your hotel?”
“Please, I wouldn’t wanna bore you,”
“OH! I could never bored because I am always in my company, Margaret!”
“Well, alright, I’ll call an uber.”
They didn’t speak during the uber ride. They paid half of the uber ride, since Brian insists that dating shouldn’t make any special financial expectations, plus, since, they are both grown-up financial successes.
“So, is this finally a date, Mr. McCook? Pretty bold move, taking a lady into a hotel for the first one,” Justin teases, once they were inside the elevator.
“Oh, darling, it is anything you want it to be, it might be the last one, so we gotta make sure, we get the most out of our date, don’t we?” Brian winks at him, using his old man accent. They both laugh at that. “I mean I don’t know, you tell me what you want this to be,” Justin could feel the atmosphere turning into a frighteningly serious one, at that moment, but then Brian adds, “I’m just the hooker after all, your wish is my command.” As Brian traps Justin into the elevator, the doors open in their floor, and some passengers get in, they got out, laughing.
“God, I feel like I’m in high school or something,” Justin says after they have calmed down. Brian wheezes at that, but instead of waiting for him to calm down, Justin grabs Brian’s sweaty hands, and brings him to his room.
Justin didn’t waste any moment, he pinned Brian by the wall, grabbed both his arms above his head, and whispered into his ear, “Well then, Kitty Kat, darling, here’s what I want.” A pause. Justin makes sure to look straight into Brian’s eyes. “Own me, tell me what to do, you decide, I’m leaving everything up to you.” Justin could see it, the point when lust consumes Brian’s eyes, he’s sure he’s pretty much the same. Whatever was building up between them culminates here. Justin hopefully gets an answer to some of his questions, and he is erratic just at the thought.
Justin was about to kiss Brian, but then the older man speaks and Justin could feel his breath in his lips, “Watch Contact and chill?” Justin was shocked and contemplated whether Brian was joking or not. He halted completely and abruptly. He looked at Brian disbelievingly for a long moment.
This was the time when Justin takes Brian’s offer of a fucking that day in Logo. This was the time when Justin wanted Brian’s help in this aspect, to clear things and feelings up, an escape, probably a key to a future with Brian, and Brian offers to watch Contact with him.
Justin feels rejected. The way Brian rejected him was very Brian. Maybe that was his answer, but he studies Brian’s face again, and sees something there. Then, Justin decides, he can wait for Brian.
Then Justin remembers how he cried to Brian a while ago, and Justin got what he was trying to do. He trusts the smaller queen.
Brian did not want to take advantage of him, and risk their friendship. Brian was just as scared. And his action spoke volumes now.
Were they in a different situation, Brian would have jumped on Justin already. They wouldn’t be having this conversation. No words would have even been spoken. By now, Brian would probably be already eating him out; however, this was Alaska. It was Justin. This was the moment Brian had dreamed and drooled about. He remembers watching Alaska from afar, pre- drag race, in front of a screen, in the corners of a crowded club, in his wet dreams, just to wake up and masturbate on said dream. This was an opportunity to make his fantasies come true. The waist he has longed to embrace, the lips he has longed to kiss, the neck he had stared at for hours long, the legs he imagined to weigh on his shoulders, the man he had longed to worshipped; he was there, all right in front of him, like a prize dangling, waiting for him to grab; however, this was also Justin.
The mastermind behind the uncrackable and untouchable Alaska, whom he had admired, and still do. The man who made focusing on All Stars very difficult for him. The man who hid behind Alaska. The human boy who hid behind the alien princess. The broken boy who Brian saw fall apart a while ago. No matter how confident Alaska was, Justin could never erase the hurt boy inside him; it would always be there, and Brian witnessed him about an hour ago. Brian saw Justin, and he knew he cannot further break the already fragile boy.
Were it on a different context, if Justin had invited him, he wouldn’t even have to think about it. Justin would not even need to ask. However, right now, Brian wants to take care of him in a different way, and so he does that and admits that to Justin, minus the masturbation and the creepy stalker parts.
Brian released Justin’s grip on his arms and kissed Justin’s knuckles. “I’m sorry, what a bummer, right, but I swear, I don’t usually prefer Contact over sex, especially if the sex is from a gorgeous Glamazonian Princess, but this is– different.” Brian doesn’t say special because he doesn’t want to freak Justin out, but this was special, for him at least. “This movie just has a lot of meaning to me,” Brian chuckles at that, “and it has helped me before, and I don’t know, it might help you.” I want to help you, Brian looks at Justin’s eyes, still holding his hands on his, and kisses them again.
Justin trusts Brian.
“Alright,” Justin concedes, and Brian smiles at him. Justin was glad he agreed. “I did say lead the way, Dr. Arroway.” Brian slaps him at his joke while laughing uncontrollably.
Justin thinks he didn’t lose, he had a lot of questions answered tonight.
They had finished watching Contact, which for a sci-fi movie tugs more at the spiritual and emotional strings of the audience. Justin thinks Brian had cried, but who was he to judge, it was a good movie. Maybe Brian completed the experience, so Justin might be a bit biased, but it’s fine, he thinks.
“I would like to thank the Goddess, Rupaul, that someone, not just someone, but a favorite of mine, had finally finished Contact with me.” Brian smiled at him then after the end credits rolled.
Justin finds it funny, Brian with some tear stains, thanking Rupaul just because Justin watched Contact with him, so Justin laughs, “Don’t tell me no one has watched Contact with you before?” Justin challenges Brian, but Brian shakes his head, “Not even Trixie?”
“Especially not her.” Brian says, “OH! She probably hates me just for bringing it up, yep, that’s a fact.”
“Well, you do have a tendency to be weirdly persistent and addicted,” Justin drawls, and Brian slaps him in the arm then laughs.
“Oh! Hard to break old habits, sweetie, and you know that too. Besides, you should be consoling me, and not justifying her choices. Don’t tell me you don’t think it’s a good spiritual movie about finding God, romance, family, and science and dead fathers by the beach.” Brian says while rubbing the area in Justin’s arm he slapped.
“Well if it wasn’t, it’ll be an awful waste of time,” Justin smirks while giving it his best Palmer Joss accent.
Brian’s face lit up, “AMEN! See this is what I mean, there would be more inside jokes after watching Contact, people would get me more. Trixie and I would make more money, and we don’t have to treat my obsession to it like a pitiful disease, Barbara!”
“Clever girl,” Justin laughs loudly at his terrible Haiden impression, and Brian joins him.
“I need a smoke,” Brian says after he had calmed down. “Can I do it at your shower, I’d like to take a shower as well, mawma.”
“Yeah, go ahead, I’ll lay here and contemplate what I’ve watched for a while longer. I’m still expecting to have that life changing realization to dawn over me.” Justin replies.
“I’m expecting a five-paged essay on how the movie had impacted your life by the time I am out. Good luck, and don’t fuck it up!” Brian starts with his Ru impression.
“There’s a reason why Ru impersonation is Trixie’s thing, not yours,” Justin teases and Brian just slams his face with a pillow, and Justin just laughs. Once he removes the pillow on his face, Brian is already by the bathroom door, who seemed to be arranging something. Justin grabs his phone and snaps a photo of Brian, candid and distracted.
Brian was pretty dark in the photo since the bathroom lights were very bright, but Justin loved the shot nevertheless. He decided to send it to the AAA girls group chat. When no one replied, Justin closed the chat, thinking that his friends were probably on a gig or are getting laid. He sighs.
He looks at the clock, 2:13 a.m.
It’s pretty late, but he has a day off tomorrow. Justin wasn’t sure about Brian’s schedule though. He feels physically exhausted, but his brain is very much alive. And it’s killing him. He tries to look back on how his day went. Lights, crowds, friends, gifts, fans, lights, Brian. Brian. Brian. Stupid Brian and his Contact.
Justin chuckles, but then he remembers what led them to watch Contact, and Justin had set rules. Rules that he knows are supposed to keep him and Alaska safe and sane. But for now, he decides to break one.
Justin opened his Instagram and twitter again, he viewed Katya’s congratulatory message, and cried. Katya included a picture of Alaska wearing, what seemed to be Trish’s wig. He stared at the picture for too long, debating whether to scroll down or not, as he was about to scroll down, Brian appears in one of his ‘your-makeup- is-terrible’ shirt and boxers and grabs his hands.
“Promise me not to do this to yourself anymore.” Brian sounded angry and strict. He slowly pries the phone away from Justin’s slender fingers, wipes away his tears, he forgot he shed, and hugs him. Brian smelled like cigarettes, green apples, mint and sandalwood. Justin doesn’t know what sandalwood smells like actually, but he thinks it fits Brian, he seems very stable and earthy and woody and dependable, in a calming way. Something like makes you feel at home, like maybe a wooden house, a cabin, with those cozy lightings, lots of ventilation, with a fire pit, and comfortable pillows, cushions, and carpets, and really mellow sepia-ish lights. Justin thinks he wants that as a home.
“You were quick.” Justin tries to change the topic.
“I had to get a new stick.” Brian knows what Justin is doing, but he won’t let him this time. Not around him, never, so he sits and continues to look Justin in the eye.
“I just—Thank you, Kat.” Justin sighs in the hug, and he wanted to cry again, but he stops. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry, bitch. I’m not an angry person, but this makes me angry.” Brian pulls away from the hug and Justin misses his scent and presence already, “You should be celebrating, you should be happy… is my presence making it harder for you?” Brian suddenly realizes, and Justin immediately shakes his head, and grabs his hands.
“No, I’m glad you’re here, with me. I don’t know why I’m extra sensitive today,”
“Are you on your period?”
“I’ve taken my pills, mother!” Brian squeals at that, Justin can make Brian laugh for some reason. No matter what Justin or Alaska says, there is a 98% chance Brian would laugh at it. Luckily, Justin is kinda liking how Brian’s laugh sound despite it sounding alarmingly unhealthy.
“Thank you for putting up with me, a brat. Really, Brian Joseph McCook, thank you.” Justin assures Brian by drawing circles inside his palm and just caressing them, “thank you for providing me the best services, I’d be sure to call you again once I want a hooker.” Justin proceeds to kiss his palm, and Brian can’t help but laugh at that, and he hugs Justin and they eventually tumble down the bed.
They stayed there, just laying down, in each other’s embrace. Justin fell asleep first, too tired to stay awake, thinking he could never want anything more. He could never get tired of Brian, and he wishes Brian doesn’t get tired of him too.
Brian hates children, but for some fucked up reason, he wanted to protect and care for this brat. He doesn’t think about it too much, and decides it must be because of maternal instinct, since he is in fact an actual woman.
Justin woke up to a note saying Brian had to leave for a flight to Rio, and Justin smiled upon seeing that beside it is a glass of orange juice with another note attached to it saying, “an orange a day because it’s god’s (rupaul) favorite, and it’s the new black, mama. You can contact me by looking for the statics.” Justin had to laugh at Brian’s dorkiness.
He took a picture of the notes and the orange juice and sent it to Brian, “This’ll do as compensation for last night.”
He was notified that Willam and Shane had replied to his photo.
William: Who’s the trade girl
Caughtney: Isn’t that Katya
W: Really?
Justin replied, “Yeah, we were together last night.”
W: Cool, he’s good, real sport, very attentive, we shared a dick once
C: I’ve always known he is generous and giving to charities
W: So you’re saying Lasky’s a charity
A: We didn’t do anything
C: No, Will. What do you mean?
W: He denied you the dick?
C: But gave to Willam oh
W: Bitch shut up, you’re just jealous
A: No, yes, but
Justin contemplated on what to say. It’s not like Brian had rejected him. Brian had respected him and taken care of him, in a different way. He sits up, takes the notes, folds them and slips them into his phone case.
W: Girl is this a problem
C: I’ll be with him tonight, want me to beat him up?
W: Yeah bet you’d like that Court, beating up for you probably means fuck him for Alaska as a revenge
C: Lasky, you just need to ask
A: You whores! No and no.
A: It was kind of a rough night
W: How is that possible without the fucking
A: Really, girl
A: We didn’t do anything besides watch Contact and cuddle
Willam and Shane had stopped replying after that, and he got a reply from the devil herself.
Katy: I thought we had established last night as a successful soul searching event
Justin smiles at the message he received; he thinks of a reply as he sips on his orange juice. The juice had bits of pulps, he replies:
A: Was the orange juice freshly squeezed?
He got an instant reply.
K: Yes, I didn’t know what you’d like, princess, I apologize.
Justin thinks he could get used to Princess.
A: Well then, consider it a success.
A: btw what’s your permanent address?
K: Oh, the hotel room don’t seem enough for our next session?
A: yes I would like to have another and a more private session, please
Justin hopes that doesn’t scare Brian, and as he was typing his sorry, I’m kidding message, he got Brian’s address, with a see you there and a set of well selected emojis, as a reply.
K: Can I ask why you really asked for it
A: I thought you liked surprises, go home, and see for yourself.
Justin leaves it at that. He proceeds to google where is the nearest post office from his hotel.
//
Justin opens his eyes upon hearing a knock on his door. He let the staff enter and deliver his food, thankful that the person does not recognize him or if they did, opted not to gush on him. Most times, Justin would appreciate fans and let them take photos even if it meant pausing a personal conversation with his mom; however, there were days when Justin wasn’t Alaska, and wanted to be away from all that in the moment.
The staff asks him if he needs anything else, he says no and thanks them by tipping them.
Justin passes by the mini vault he brings with him which contains all of the mails and postcards Brian had sent him over the months. He still looks at them when he needs some encouragement and motivation. Katya’s web series episodes were motivational enough; however, he treasures these more personal ones. He sees the staff out and caught a glimpse of the hallway of the hotel. He wasn’t able to look at it a while ago, but the walls were covered in white and the whole floor was carpeted.
I want to kiss you in a hallway in Aspen.
He shuts the door, and sits down to eat.
As he was eating the pizza, he tries to remember when did the letters he receives in his home had become letters from home. He thinks of when did home became a pair of blue eyes surrounded by black eye shadow and a set of perfect pearly white teeth.
//
The snow outside looked so white and pristine, just like a certain Russian hooker’s teeth, which is in full display now, as he is gritting them through the cold or maybe laughing at a joke Alaska just made. Either way, Alaska wanted to give him warmth ASAP. The man is dying, he needs it more than her.
Everyone saw what happened in Aspen. It was well documented by their snaps and Instagram stories. They had a lot of fun. They had finished a whole set of activities, contests, performances, and shoots and an After Show in a cable ride together. Alaska and Katya had enjoyed each other’s company. They know they have great chemistry, and they have grown really really close. Everyone could see their chemistry and everyone was feeding off of it. Aspen was a well documented trip, except it’s really not, and no one knew what happened outside of those videos, not even Alaska nor Katya.
They are currently waiting at the hotel lobby, so Alaska decides to stick beside Katya, and flush their bodies as much as possible without it being too uncomfortable.
The sudden contact and warmth had surprised the smaller queen, but it wasn’t unwelcomed. She was grateful actually more than anything. This has been a dynamic that had developed within their interactions. Katya first attempted to offer help and take care of Alaska, and of course she reciprocated it.
Katya learned that in a weird and unexpected way, it was natural for Alaska to take care of others. Maybe it had been more evident before during Sharon and her reign as the royal couple, probably one of the factors as to why they broke up. Alaska may have a tendency to put people on a pedestal, before maybe, but that’s not really none of Katya’s business. Now, she just thinks of it as women supporting women, and that’s wonderful, involves no blurred thoughts and feelings, less complicated, easier. But Katya cannot really deny the attraction that she has been developing for the other queen. Of course, she just wanted to fuck her. Hell, they almost got to it before. She was a huge fan of Alaska, even before Katya entered drag race. She still is, despite her view and knowledge on the alien princess expanding, she still admires her. The intense admiration, almost like hero worship, going on before may have been replaced with an actual good, healthy, and solid friendship.
Alaska had grown prettier and prettier every year, more refined. Katya could really see the growth of the queen. Before, she might say she would be jealous of the queen, but now, she had seen what Alaska had gone through, how mush shit Justin had to put up with. She now has access to the growth of the queen underneath the surface, the evolution of Justin. In some way, Justin had inspired him.
Alaska is, indeed, very pretty, and Justin was actually already pretty as well. And Katya wanted to taste him and eat him alive, make him scream. All Stars really gave her a taste of power, and she especially loved the power she had over Alaska, watching her crumble. To see the queen, you have admired and worshipped for so long break and confirm that they are actually human, and just maybe you had a chance with them did things to Katya. She thinks she needs to untuck now. The close proximity of Alaska with her and the cold is not really helping her case as well. She can’t wait to get into her room and masturbate at the thought of Alaska and/or Justin, she’s not really picky, become a whining moaning hot mess under her.
Alaska could see Katya become uneasy, maybe the contact is making her uncomfortable. She steps away to break contact, but then Katya grabs her arm, and actually pulls her closer and tighter at her side.
“I’m sorry. It’s cold, and I really want to untuck right now.” Katya whispers right next to her, and acting fidgety which proves her statement.
“Ooh, why don’t you come on here and fuck me in the ass sometime?” Alaska summons her Mae West back in a whisper, and she could see it still works.
“Is that an actual offer or are we looking at a potential case of the blue balls?”
“It won’t be potential if it’s already blue isn’t it?”
“Point taken,” Katya breaks the silence du to laughter at that.
“Ugh, there’s just no one here, mama.” Katya continues and now proceeds to lean her head on the taller queen’s arm. “Can I be honest with you?”
“Go ahead, darling. I know you, I’m prepared with your potentially creative and daredevil sex fantasies” Alaska drawls, trying to convince Katya she won’t judge by petting her head and playing with her hair.
“Okay, I was actually thinking of masturbating to thoughts of you, in the workroom, just crumbling down,” Katya says in one breath, Alaska almost did not catch it.
Alaska was at a much better place now, she can now confirm that because the sudden reference to her tantrum did not bother her in that way, although Katya’s mention of it had made her hot and bothered.
“Yeah? What would you be doing to me in your fantasy?” Alaska challenges in her Mae West voice.
Katya stares at her, “Oh, bitch—”
They had gone into their hotel room earlier than the others, and every fantasy Katya had enumerated a while ago, they fulfilled.
Brian has been a constant in his life, his presence had become a norm for Justin, a necessity even that it scares him sometimes. Brian’s touch was equally as familiar to him, however, this was foreign to him. How Brian sounds like near to completion, how his brows would furrow as he shuts his eyes in pleasure, how dominant he could be, but it was still Brian. He was still as attentive as ever and beautiful, covered in sweat, muscles flexing. Justin finds everything oddly exhilarating. He knows he has started to develop more complex feelings for the people’s princess, but he doesn’t want to admit to it completely yet, scared that he would lose this, lose him. Was he already losing him by having sex with him? Justin wanted to panic, but Brian was pulling out, Justin could feel his cock had rested on his entrance. And this was killing him, he missed the feeling of Brian inside him, he needs to be filled by him now, both in his thoughts and in his ass; he couldn’t help but whine.
“I can hear you thinking, you’re practically vibrating, pretty hard not to notice when I’m inside you,” the older queen says in a raspy voice, biting into his ear, and Justin is riled up even more. “Brian, please. I was just thinking about you,” he moans, trying to thrust his own hips to feel any friction, but Brian held his waist firmly in place, Justin was sure it could leave a mark.
“Stop thinking, I’m here, baby,” Brian kisses his temple, and tightens his grip on Justin’s waist to slam back in, followed by consistently earnest thrusts, Justin couldn’t help but not think and give in to the sensations.
Sex, of course, had always been exhilarating, but this was different, the knowledge that Brian was with him, in this moment, makes his heart beat a thousand times faster; he was sure it’s not because of the overflowing sensations he’s currently experiencing. It’s because of Brian. Brian kisses him, and he worries he might actually die because of sex. Sure, he might find it funny, were it another time, but he could feel so many underlying conversations they are having by their current actions. He hopes that it is not only true in his side, and fuck, he is actually in love.
Now, they lie in their bed, cuddling, satisfied, and exhausted. They didn’t talk, too exhausted to even be able to stay awake to clean up.
Their limbs had tangled all together, Justin’s long ones mainly embracing Brian. Their faces still have traces of make up. Getting out of their clothes was the priority last night, completely getting out of drag, not really.
They don’t talk about it after. It was just some good casual sex, Brian tells himself, and he believes it’s the same for Justin. So, Brian did not feel the need to wake him up when he needed to leave earlier. He didn’t think about it, didn’t have to feel guilty or anything, but then it was his good friend, Justin, who is probably still hung up on some aftermath of All Stars.
They’re close, they’ve grown really close, so Brian knows that this means nothing more than being good judies to each other. It may even be just a one-time thing, just the culmination of the tension brewing between them before because of all the environmental stressors and stimuli. And as a man as a woman, when exposed to stimuli, you act accordingly, especially when it was sexual stimuli. Brian proceeds to pack quietly and leaves for his next gig.
They didn’t talk, so when Justin wakes up with a cold bed and the absence of a certain Russian hooker, he tries to not think too much about it. Brian has always believed in free love, and this was just another exhibit. No need to actually get hurt or overreact. He needs to just be chill, and proceed with his day.
//
Justin has finished his meal, and is already feeling the chill in his hotel room. He decided to get under the sheets and go through social media.
He sees a video of Katya tagged with a trixya tag. He clicks on it. The video is of Katya stating that he would just prefer if Trixie Mattel were her boyfriend. Sure, it was to keep the fans happy and Trixie and her were good friends, Sharon and Alaska were that close too. It was all done in good nature, nothing to hurt Justin, plus, it’s kind of marketing. It would have been fine were it any other day, he would be able to laugh at it, and move on; however, three days ago happened. Justin had fucked up, and he is actually potentially looking of Trixie and Katya getting together.
//
A few weeks after Aspen, Justin received a video call from Courtney; Justin decided to answer as he was still waiting for Adore. They will be talking about a show that Adore had mentioned to him. He sat at a comfortable chair and placed his laptop on a table. He hit accept, and the screen loaded for a bit until Courtney appeared.
“Hiiieee” Courtney greets him.
“G’day mate.” Justin replies.
After knowing Justin’s tiny-huge-crush-on-a-Russian-whore-situation, the remaining 2/3 of the AAA girls decided to hop in and “help” him.
They decided to have a nice little chat, while, obviously, waiting for a certain Russian whore. Courtney was chilling at a backstage of some bar after, Justin assumed. While Courtney was talking about the latest straight guy she’d fucked or who had fucked her, the said Russian whore appeared. Justin was about ready to jump for joy until he saw that Katya was not alone for the night. Just as soon as his heart had flown, as soon as it had also fell. Courtney gave him a sorry look, but proceeded on interviewing Katya and the guy out of formality and for some insight as well. While Courtney was doing so, Justin studied the guy, now, Justin was rarely insecure when it comes to his physical appearance. He is even more confident when he’s Alaska; however, he can’t fight back the desire to be shorter, more tan, and muscular at the moment. He sighs on the screen, and that must have gotten Katya’s attention because she went nearer the camera and saw Justin. Katya bid a peck goodbye to her lover, and brought back her attention to Courtney and Justin.
“Hi.” Katya starts.
“Hi.” Justin answers, “so how was he?” he can’t help but ask.
“Oh, thank god you didn’t ask for the name, I forgot to ask, but I’d probably call him Roberto, cousin of Ricardo.” Katya grinned at him in the screen, and Justin could swear Katya’s teeth are always bright and perfect even in 480p. Katya proceeds to talk about Roberto’s performance, and Justin left that to Courtney, his mind now wandering somewhere else, leaving the juicy details as a background noise. He processes what Katya had said, and he hates how much just knowing that Katya didn’t bother to ask for his name made him feel lighter and at ease.
Justin thinks of his place, how Brian sees him. They weren’t exclusive. No, it was just one night. All they ever did was hung out a lot and every time they get a chance, send each other stupid mail, and Justin have Brian take care of him. Justin had jumped to conclusions, of course. His brain always getting ahead of him. Justin feels stupid. Katya wouldn’t be celibate for him. Katya doesn’t even do relationships. He was the only one who avoided sex and contact from other men, even in music videos. He asks himself why did he do that, and suddenly he felt déjà vu. He remembers something like this has happened before. Somehow, the memory still involved Katya. Justin just sighs. He remembers he was talking to Katya and Courtney when it got quiet. Katya had finished telling a chapter of her psychosexual melodrama, and noticed Justin wasn’t listening. Both of them were just looking at him now.
“Sorry, what was it?” Justin apologized.
“OH! Do you want me to start from the beginning? What parts did you miss?” Katya asked, very eager to share her encounter. Justin’s face fell, was the guy really that good or does Katya enjoy tormenting Justin. Katya saw how Justin’s face fell, but before she was able to ask about it, Courtney already speaks her disgust for the retelling in a dramatic way, and Justin was laughing again. Katya was glad that Justin was laughing.
“So what are you up to, Miss Thunderfun?” Katya asks.
“Nothing much–” “Actually, he’s at a hotel preparing to bang someone, or be banged by someone” Justin was cut off by Courtney.
Justin glares at Courtney for a while. Katya’s interest was piqued at that. He had stopped policing Justin’s sexual life by now, but she’s still curious. “Oh, really? With whom? Might be a special one since it seems it’s been long since you got laid, since Aspen if I am not mistaken.” She had teased.
“And whose fault do you think that is?” Justin replies at a softer tone, but laughs anyway, so Katya just laughs with him.
They all heard Justin’s door open, then close, signaling Adore’s arrival, but Courtney and Katya don’t know that.
“Oh, he’s here.” Justin says.
“And, this is it ladies and ladyboys, the moment we have been waiting for, Justin’s next fuck is…” Courtney screams from the screen, and Justin is sure Adore heard it, since he stopped hearing footsteps. A beat. “Me!” Adore jumps and poses from the hallway into everyone’s view. Justin was expecting to see Adore, but Danny probably didn’t have any gig, or didn’t have time to put even make-up on due to a hangover from some party. Justin just chuckles and shakes his head as he hears whistles and laughs from the screen.
Danny walks up to him in a seductive manner, locking eyes with Justin. Justin decided to get into his gig, and focused on Danny, he turned his chair, back facing the screen, eyes never leaving Danny’s. Danny finally stopped in front of him. He seemed to be enjoying giving everyone a show. He cupped Justin’s face while sliding into his lap.
Katya was untucked and he could feel his member grow interested. The fact that Justin wasn’t facing them made it difficult for him, since his imagination went rampant, especially since he had already had a taste of Justin. He remembers Justin’s face as he came, the sounds he made, how soft his lips were on his, and oh how soft they could feel on his cock. Fuck. He opened his eyes, not remembering when he had closed it, when Danny spoke on the screen again.
“You didn’t tell me you were inviting me for a fuck, Lasky. I would’ve exerted more effort.” Danny said, voice loud enough to make sure the ones on the screen heard it too.
“Bitch, I’ve never seen you exert effort before.” Justin replies mockingly, wrapping his hands on the mermaid’s waist. Danny laughed at that hugging Justin for support. “You, bitch.” When Danny stood up from Justin’s lap, Katya looked confused, while Courtney was laughing.
“Hey guys. Katya, Courtney, what’s up?” Danny said, leaning into the screen.
“Hey Dan,” Courtney greets.
“Wait, so you two weren’t gonna fuck?” Katya says, as a form of greeting perhaps.
“Do you want them to?” Courtney asks Katya, completely amused.
“Well, I mean they could while we do too.”
Danny laughs at Katya’s reply and laughs harder when he sees Courtney’s face, and Justin moves closer to the screen as well leaning on Danny’s shoulder. “Ha! I wish we could fuck, but no, silly, we’re just here to conceptualize.” Danny huffs, looking at Justin then back to the screen, “this guy is being celibate for some reason, but it’s cute. See, we’ve been spending a few days together recently, and he rejects all the dick, long lines of them, avoids touching anyone at least. I don’t think I can break the spell, I tried, and as you’ve seen, he just read me in exchange.”
“I am not being celibate,” Justin lifts his head from where it was rested on Danny’s shoulders, trying to think of a way to defend himself. It’s just that after Aspen, Justin never really felt enticed, unless it was a pair of baby blue eyes, a set of pearly white perfect teeth, flexible joints, a bony dwarf, and someone not there. “I’ve just been busy. Unlike you, I don’t have a Bianca, so I have a lot of things on my brain.”
“Yeah, right, sweetie. I’ll pretend you didn’t just go season-3-sugar-daddy on me. But at this rate, your pussy’s gonna dry up. And the prince charming you’re reserving it for won’t like it anymore. I don’t even think the prince charming is even worthy, I mean it’s been so long. He should notice by now,” Danny says obliviously.
“The prince charming is worthy, mind you.” Justin counters. He looks at Katya then, they lock eyes, and he panics. He turns to divert his look at Courtney, and she has the look of pity in his eyes. Justin feels stupid. Danny doesn’t know, Katya doesn’t know, Brian doesn’t know, Justin repeats to himself like a mantra.
“Well, alright, how would I know, you never introduced me to him.” Danny replies and Justin breathes at that.
Katya was more interested now, apparently Justin wasn’t looking for a fuck because he has found a prince. This was news to her. A prince he has never mentioned to Danny nor to her.
The idea did something to Katya’s chest, not her breasts, but the area where her lungs and heart are caged.
Brian was all about sharing love, giving sex, but the thought of Justin going steady with someone, even finding a good fuck had left a bad taste in his mouth. Then, everything clicks in his head. Why just now. Sure, he has never been good with science nor math, but that’s not the point. He is faced with a much bigger elephant in his head. It’s like a tsunami had hit him and memories of mails, jet-lagged phone calls, aspen, of a certain alien flooded his brain.
Barbara is in love, has been, for a while now. Fuck, he mentally curses. Sometimes, Brian is too in the moment, he’s so oblivious. He could already hear Brenda laughing at him for discovering the truth he had worked so hard to avoid like, maybe Katy Perry.
“Aww, Little Lasky’s in love.” Courtney comments beside Katya, and that pulls her back to the crashing reality: Brian is in love with Justin, and Justin is in love too, with a prince charming possibly not Brian because a) nothing is princely about him, and b) he doesn’t know, maybe if Justin was into him, he’d know it by now.
Brenda was suddenly noisy; Brian wants to breathe, and Katya doesn’t know what to do. He suddenly wanted a smoke, but then he remembered his smoke breaks with Justin. He curses himself. He wanted to get to his hotel, but he was so used to having Justin with him in hotels now. He doesn’t know what to do, he feels himself cracking, breaking, so he does what he can do for now.
Katya stood up, flashed a smile, and excused herself.
“I think I’m calling it a day. The trade was a handful, demanding, whiny, but worth it.” He tries for laughs, and it worked, except for Justin. He looked at Justin, mistake one. He didn’t seem amused; he seemed worried, assumptions, mistake two.
“Now, are you sure you’re talking about the trade or Lasky here?” Danny adds to the joke, embracing said person in a half-hug. Katya seemed to consider the question for a moment; she was taken aback by the appropriateness of the question, mistake three. He wanted to hug Justin too, to be there with him, right now, yearning, mistake four.
“No, I’m pretty sure Alaska’s not like that. I remember her as attentive, receptive, warm, gorgeous, and worth more than it.” Katya can’t help the reply, it came off as aggressive and pissed, and surely, everyone just stared at her; irrational and awkward jealousy, mistake five.
“Hey, I’m sure you’re beat, I mean tired, not your mug, but are you sure you’re alright?” Justin was the first one to break the awkward silence, attempting for a joke, Katya just stared at him. She was glad the silence was over, but she still has to answer Justin. I’m not okay, please come to my hotel tonight and hold me. I love you. I’m sorry. She wanted to say all that, instead she smiles, “Yeah, old men just have to rest their crumbling scarce bones, you know. Plus, same, I mean I’m also kind of struggling with the fact that I’m in love. So, see you.” She used an accent, a cover up. Justin knows that. Justin understood that whatever it was, Brian is trying to hide it from everyone. Justin was so fixated on how Brian used an accent that he almost missed the part when Brian said he was struggling and in love.
With that, Katya grabs her stuff and walks away. Courtney bids them goodbye as well, but promises to talk to Justin later, especially about Aspen.
“Um so I see I’ve offended prince charming?” Danny asks after Justin had closed his laptop. Justin gives him a small smile.
“He’d come around. He’s not mad at you.”
“Are you mad at me?”
“Of course not, sweetie. I’m actually sorry I haven’t told you.”
“No, you don’t owe me anything. Besides, I kind of get why you would like to keep your feeling private or a secret. Look at where it got me with Roy. The fans were happy and it made them interested, so that was a plus, but I don’t have him.” Danny looks down on the ground, and he looked so small. Justin had to hug him; he was aware that Danny indeed had a crush on Roy, but Roy says that he’s too young, so they decided to stay as best friends. In a way, Justin understands Danny, he’s kind of been there with Sharon, having to transform romantic, sexual, passionate love into a more tamed and family-friendly one.
“Sure, you have him. You see, when we created Adore DeLaska and we got such a positive response from fans, they began shipping us; I mean he actually warned me not to fall in love with you and hurt you or else he will beat me up. I thought he was joking, but then he sent me a selfie of him, wigless but with Bianca’s face on, in front of my apartment, and girl, I was frightened. He deals with everything in the form of a joke, but not you.” Danny breaks the hug at that, and offers a genuine smile at Justin. Justin takes it.
“You and Katya are good friends now too, but I’m not saying you should settle with that; I also don’t intend to give you advice because don’t take advices from me—Fuck, I’m all over the place. Just—I hope I didn’t ruin your chances.” It was Justin’s turn to give a small smile, but he takes Danny’s hands in his.
“You didn’t ruin my chances, if I had none at the beginning.”
It was Danny’s turn to console him, honestly when did this become a sappy and emotional therapy. “You, idiot, have you seen his reactions a while ago? Have you seen him look at you? The things he does when around you or when things concern you? I mean we, three, have only been in a single show together, but I know he cares, Justin. What do you think happened back there, why he walked out? He probably didn’t fancy talking about your prince charming.”
Danny has a point, but Justin just can’t let himself hope, he knows he’d get hurt; he’s already hurting, fuck it. “He has Trixie though, and—I—it’s just everything becomes messy to me when it involves him.”
“Oh, baby, if Trixie and Katya would be together, they should be married by now. Plus, which ghoul had said this, true love is pain,” Danny tightens their joined hands now.
Justin smiles.
They spent the rest of the time talking about other queens, their feelings, Aspen. In the end, they didn’t get any work done. They ordered food, set a new date, and decided to call it a day.
Right after Danny left, Justin phoned Brian.
“Hey.” Brian picked up.
“Hey yourself.”
“What’s up?”
“Do you want me to go there? Or are you with someone?” Justin asks Brian because he wants to be with him, to talk to him.
“You don’t even know where I am,”
“Are you walking? Your breathing’s uneven.”
“Maybe I’m having sex.” Brian sounded bitter, but Justin
“While on the phone? I didn’t take you as someone disrespectful, in my experience, at least. Plus, you’re old, you probably couldn’t let that up another time after that trade.”
Brian laughs at that, then silence. All Justin could hear was Brian’s breathing and street noise. He was walking.
“No, you are walking, and it’s just your cigarettes finally killing you.”
“Yeah, that’s kinda long overdue, Joanne.” Brian quips.
“I want to be with you. Where are you?”
“Uhh, I just came from Trixie’s; I’m now walking to my hotel.” Of course, on a rough day, Brian would go to Brian, Trixie.
“You’re in the city? Well, where is your hotel?” Justin asks, as he hears hotel doors opening, and the background became more quiet.
Justin’s phone suddenly buzzed. A text from Danny.
Adore: I just passed by Brian as I was about to leave the hotel. Did you two decide to meet up?
“Nevermind, I’m coming to you. Stay at the lobby.”
“No, wai—”
Justin said before Brian could even finish his reply. He ended the call, not waiting for a reply, stood up. He checked himself at the mirror for a brief moment, a black shirt and black jeans, he looked presentable, that was enough. He went out and hurried to the elevator, pressing the button multiple times. When the elevator door opened, he stopped rushing, and stood at the door, just staring on who’s inside. He saw Brian.
“Oh, hi. Fancy meeting you here.” Brian greets him; he looks genuinely surprised.
“Why didn’t you wait downstairs?”
“I thought I’d meet you halfway,”
“Bullshit. You didn’t even know where I was.”
“I’ve heard the statics, mother.”
“Brian.”
Justin looks at Brian. He looks like someone had died. He looks exhausted. Justin could ask him what happened, and Brian could answer along the lines of travel and work. But Justin just wants to embrace him, and just make all his problems go away. But then, Justin seemed to be Brian’s problem. He doesn’t know what to do.
“Technology is really amazing. We’ve been staring at each other for quite a long time now, and the elevator won’t close” Brian jokes, but Justin couldn’t find any humor in the situation. He steps inside the elevator quietly, and it shuts.
As soon as the door shut, Justin could feel the tension, Brian had stiffened. He probably didn’t expect Justin to get in.
“So where to?” Justin asks Brian.
“I should be the one asking you that. You were the one who hopped in.”
“Well I’ve got nowhere else to be. I’m with you now.”
Brian lets out a laugh, “that’s so cheesy, What!”
They just let the elevator take them wherever for the mean time.
Justin smiles, he loves making Brian laugh, but he knew he had to speak; they need to talk. “You’ve been crying.”
Brian suddenly stops laughing and just stares at Justin, then proceeds to concoct an obvious lie “No, Trixie and I just got high. Mark your calendar, it’s the first time she tried being high.”
“Whatever. My guess is you finally watched Contact?” Justin wasn’t having any of it. He is so used to Brian and his antics now. And that’s what makes this more difficult for him, Brian was being Brian, but Justin knows he’s hurt, and he can’t help.
“Something like that, I guess, but what we did was something more spiritually enriching than Contact”
“I don’t believe it.”
“I know right, like Contact was it for me, then add that with Trixie, another it for me. I mean what else could beat that…” Brian looks at him now. Justin doesn’t know what to say. Brian just said how Justin could never mean as much as Firkus means to Brian.
“Yeah, probably marrying Trixie and raising an army of baby Russian dolls eating up everyone,” Justin suggests, to which Brian laughs.
“You just combined in a sentence two of things that I don’t believe in: marriage and raising children,”
Of course, Brian would laugh and have a remark. This is them, their thing. Justin doesn’t know what he’s expecting, but he knows something’s different. Brian could try to avoid the topic and derail them just by laughing or by telling random speeches in different accents and characters, but Justin is impatient tonight, more than usual at least. He can’t put up to talk with another one of Brian’s character, he needs Brian.
Justin actually doesn’t know what he aims in talking with him, but he felt something was off during their video call, Danny had talked to him already, Brian was magically in his hotel. If that’s not the universe trying to tell him something, then he doesn’t know what is.
“Now come on, tell me what’s wrong.”
“You’re wrong.”
“What?”
“Watching Contact with Trixie was it for me, you know what had a more profound effect? Not marrying Trixie and raising an army of Russian dolls, although thank you for the idea, I appreciate you adjusting your thinking to my tastes, or maybe I’ve always liked the way you think without you ever adjusting—”
“Brian,” Justin glares at him, cutting off his babbling.
“Point is, you’re wrong, and the correct answer is me and Trixie were talking about how much of an idiot I am, and how much I’ve grown to love you,” Justin wasn’t able to respond quickly, Brian had said that sentence in one quick breath that Justin almost didn’t catch anything. The elevator doors opened, thank you, Universe, Brian quickly gets out, and Justin was still dumbfounded, but he knew he had to move, so he did. He went after Brian as fast as he could. He spotted him speed walking into a room, and Justin sprinted towards him.
“Brian, wait! Why are you running away?”
“No. Go! All of my peaches are ruined!” Brian turns and sees him and walks faster, but Justin was faster, and he needs answers. He thanked his two long left legs for being good to him once. Brian was about to shut the door to his hotel room, but Justin caught it with his hands, then his foot.
“Brian, let me in. Let’s talk.”
“God, Justin, please don’t make it any more difficult for me. Let go.”
“What, stop closing the door, let me in, and you’ll have less difficulty.”
“That’s not what I meant, idiot. Just—let go! Let go! I don’t want to see you, nor be in the same room as you. Let me lick my wounds in peace alone. I don’t need you to console me nor pity me.” Brian chokes at the last part, and finally looks up at Justin. His blue eyes were glossy, and Justin can’t have that.
“I love you too.” He hears Sharon, in his head, saying that was the butchest thing you’ve done your whole life, and he lets her stay there. But not for a while because he had to focus on Brian. He couldn’t help but focus on Brian. How his tears finally fell, the sounds he made when he cries. Brian removed his weight on the door to wipe his tears away. But Justin takes his hands away and kisses his tears.
“God, I’m crying. I feel like a woman.”
“You are a woman.” Justin embraces him, and Brian hummed as he hugged back. They stayed like that for a while.
They may look like a crazy destructive pair to some visitors, and Justin saw a hotel security personnel eyeing them, so he decided to bring Brian in, and close the door.
They break the hug, and Justin wanted to say a lot of things, but his head feels afloat, and it doesn’t seem like the right time to talk.
“You didn’t let me reply to you back there at the elevator.”
“Well, seems like our recurring theme for today.”
“So, you’ve, uh, finally meet my prince charming.”
“I would say you have terrible taste and we could talk for the whole night, or I could just interrupt you right there, and say shut up and fucking kiss me.” With that, it was settled. They locked eyes for a while, then Justin pushes Brian on the wall just like last time, but this time he kisses him.
Brian tastes the same, just like last time. Peppermint and cigarettes. But somehow this kiss feels different. There was no longer any hesitations in the kiss, no more held back feelings, it was bold and bare.
The kiss was haste, sloppy, passionate, and messy. Justin’s head was a mess, but Brian seems to have that effect on him. So he forgets words, and lets his lips, his body move to relay his message.
When they finally broke apart, Justin’s hair is now sticking up everywhere due to Brian’s touching and grabbing. Brian’s blues were now a shade darker and blown with lust.
“I want to taste you,” Justin says and proceeds to kneel down, unbuckling Brian’s belt in the process.
“Oh God. Justin, that’s hot.” Justin pulls Brian’s pants down and licked his dick through his briefs.
Justin pulls down Brian’s briefs to let out his half-hard cock and gives it a few strokes while licking the sensitive head before swallowing his cock whole. Brian saw his cock disappear and reappear in Justin’s mouth, feel his tongue accommodate and lick his now throbbing dick professionally, and he could swear he could cum so early from sensory overload.
Brian taps Justin’s shoulder to tell him, he’s about to come. Justin removes his cock from his mouth then, and Brian groans at the loss of contact, but pulls Justin up to kiss him.
It was Brian’s turn to show dominance. He grabs Justin by his collar towards the bed, pushes him and straddles him to remove his shirt. Justin does the same for him. And then, they were all hands and lips again.
Brian starts kissing Justin’s neck, his favorite collarbones, his chest, his abdomen, until he reaches his belt. He looks up at Justin, looking for approval. Justin just nods his head and bit his lips, which Brian took as a go signal.
Soon, Justin’s pants were on the floor, and Brian was asking Justin to lick his fingers.
“Lick, now, open your legs.” Justin does as he is told, and Brian positions himself in between Justin’s legs, then inserts a finger in Justin. Shortly after Brian is inserting his third finger and Justin is a moaning mess.
“Brian, I need you inside me now.” Justin pleas in between moans.
“So demanding, you’d get hurt.”
“I really need you, Brian… please,” Brian almost lost it that so he kisses Justin to shut him up, and stop riling him up any further.
Brian would’ve complied; however, he feels guilty that Justin’s last time was back in Aspen with him as well, so he takes his time.
“Do you have a condom?” Justin asks.
“I’m clean and tested, are you?”
“Are you sure?”
“What does that supposed to mean?”
“You are a whore, so I don’t know,”
“And you are a horse,”
“which makes you a sick horny psycho, stupid.”
Brian doesn’t know why, but he laughs, and Justin follows. Yes, they laugh during sex because this- whatever this is- doesn’t have to change anything between them. They could still have the easy air around them, the care, they can keep the jokes, and the sex is just a bonus. Most importantly, now they have each other. Brian muses at Justin.
“What are you smiling at me like that for?”
“Nothing, just, you’re beautiful, princess.” Brian takes Justin’s hands and kisses them. Justin smiles at him and lets the warmth and comfort- despite feeling sticky, painfully hard, and at an awkwardly angled position- of the moment burn in his memory.
“You know, I would appreciate all this more when I am not painfully hard and awkwardly open, honey” Justin says after a few moments, grabbing Brian down and kissing him. Brian smiles at the kiss, and Justin decides he loves it when Brian does that.
“I like your teeth.”
“Great way to motivate me,”
“Are we doing this or not,”
Brian laughs again, which is why he wasn’t surprised when he felt an extra painful sore at his stomach and a heavy weight on his left arm the following day. He opens his eyes, and suddenly the sore in his stomach was replaced with butterflies, butterflies that are welcomed because the sight before him is all he ever wanted and more. He smiles to himself. The sun is now up, and Justin’s usually pasty white skin is glowing gold and warm. He can’t help but kiss Justin’s shoulder, which makes the sleeping man stir.
“Good morning,” Brian greets as Justin opens his eyes then beams at him. Brian thinks of Bambi, with Justin’s eyes and his long limbs tangled with Brian’s on the sheets, and Brian finds it extremely adorable and fitting.
“I’m starving.” Justin breaks Brian’s trance, and Brian chuckles at that.
“Well, come on up, and get dressed, princess.”
“Ah! I’m a queen, and you’re the people’s princess,”
“I was thinking of disregarding your venomous breath and kissing you, but alright que—”
“Alright, I guess, I’ll allow you to call me and only me princess, only you though”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“Now, kiss me, stupid,” Justin embraces Brian’s neck and pulls him closer until their lips met.
“You reek of cigarettes,” Justin smiles into the kiss, and Brian has to pull away to laugh, “You reek of my dick.” He, then, stands up, grabs a shirt, and throws one at Justin too.
“Let’s brush our teeth, and get some happy meal.”
“I’m down. You really need a brush.” Justin stands up, and pecks a laughing Brian in the cheek, as he passed by him on his way to the bathroom.
Brian follows suit and stands behind Justin, who was now gargling with some traces of toothpaste on his chin. He looks at Justin on the mirror, he wasn’t wearing anything besides his boxers, he has all this messy white toothpaste on his face, but still he doesn’t fail to hold Brian’s attention. He was wrapped around his long lean fingers, and the realization makes Brian shiver in both fear and excitement of a possible future with Justin. For now, Brian allows a future with Justin.
“Why’re you looking at me funny?” Justin eyes him through the mirror, smiling bashfully, pulling him back to reality. Brian catches a sight of himself in the mirror, and sees he has a stupid dopey smile plastered on his face. He had been looking at Justin like he hung the moon. Anyone who would see it would undoubtedly know he was in love with the tall and talented queen in front of him. Now, he wants to make sure that Justin knows that he is beautiful and loved very much.
“You’re starting to scare me, Brian.” Justin chuckles, which was cut off immediately by what Brian had said, “Hey, be my boyfriend?”
Brian finally asks, he could feel his heart beating so hard, it might literally leave its cage and just fly out of the window.
Justin knows they had been dancing some weird homosexual mating dance, and it has been very long, and now Brian had finally asked him. It was not a grand courtship ending with an as equally grand declaration of love, but it was perfect. Justin knew the older man as a queen of timing, but he was delayed this time, but it’s fine. This was happening now, and Justin releases a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. He could suddenly feel warm and his heart beating fast, and he could see worry etch into Brian’s beautiful face, and he was suddenly reminded he has to answer.
“Hmm, Bambi and one of Snow white’s dwarf, almost like a fairytale. Disney is shaking.” The answer had sunk into Brian painting a stupid smile on his face, then Justin turned around with an equally stupid smile, threw himself onto the smaller man then smashed their lips before Brian could even laugh or sigh out of relief and joy.
Justin feels so happy he could die; he wants to cry. He had been waiting for this for so long. All of his worries for a future, thrown out of the window for now. For now, he only thinks of how Brian has his hands on his waist, and how he holds him like he’s dear and he has no intention of letting go. The smaller man kisses him and means it, and Justin understands, so he tries to reciprocate and deliver everything he feels at the moment, hoping that Brian would get it too.
Brian is truly definitely genuinely happy. Right here. At this moment. This was everything he hadn’t known he wanted and more. He had been wanting him, yearning to be with him, years ago, even before he entered drag race. Brian never wanted to go through the hurdles of drag race, knowing the pressure the difficult challenges bring, but he wanted to be a part of something so much bigger. He wanted the family that goes along with it. And this, Justin’s weight on his arms, he lets himself think that they are perfect for each other, that everything, all his life was leading to this moment right here; gone were the days wherein he had to go fall in a long line, battle with a crowd just to see Alaska. He’s now with Alaska, and what’s better is that he’s with Justin. He thinks that he would do his very fucking best to not fucking fuck this up because this, this might be one of the best things that has happened to him. And thank God he is sober to enjoy everything. Then he stops thinking because Justin is very eager, and Brian will definitely not not reciprocate and give and receive and reciprocate.
“You make me so fucking happy, I might kill you before you kill me.” Brian finally says as they break apart, breathless, eyes blown, both very red.
“Right. Balance is important in everything. You’re the psycho breadwinner, and I’m the masochistic trophy wife.”
“Now, let’s really brush our teeth and get ourselves some McDonald’s.”
It was a perfect picture. A happy and successful couple with their happy meals and their love for drag, art, comedy, and each other.
Justin wishes it could stay a picture, painted permanently, and hell knows, he would do whatever to try and make it so.
Trixie answered at the fourth ring, and Brian started fake sobbing.
“Brian? Hey, what’s wrong? Where are you?” Usually, Trixie would start with an insult, but Brian was sobbing on the other end.
“I just—it was a lot of stress and pressure, and I said it would just be one line. I—Trixie, I’m sorry.”
“Brian? No, you didn’t mean…”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I know, it was a dangerous train of thought last night. My head wasn’t clear, and I said I don’t fuck with addiction, but I just. You know I have tendencies, and I just can’t last night. After I went to your place, I just passed by it, and—” Brian intensifies his sobbing sounds.
Trixie was now panicking, he got up, put on some pants and was headed to the door, “Where are you?”
“I’m sorry I relapsed.”
“With what? Do you know?”
“Yes, it was—”
“Hiiieeee, Barbie.” Justin butted in the conversation
“—Alaska Thunderfuck,” Brian finished his last sentence, and Trixie almost dropped his phone. These bitches had him, he was already outside. He doesn’t know whether to be angry or relieved, so he shouts at the phone instead.
“You fucking, bitches! You utter fucking whores!” Trixie screams, but it is drowned by the laughing on the other line.
“We got you.” Brian says, still laughing.
“We got you good. Great acting, babe.” Trixie hears Justin say in his drawl.
Trixie hears a smooch, so he vocalizes his disgust.
“Ugh, Hesus, have mercy on me.”
He hears more laughter and then some apologies.
“So, I guess it all worked out in the end, huh Kat?”
“Yeah, uhh thanks, Brian.” Brian says on the phone, hoping the gratitude comes across.
“Alright, Alaska, thank you for prying Katya away from me. Now, you, cunts, owe me details and brunch, you made me walk outside at such an ungodly hour!”
“It’s literally almost noon now.”
“Exactly, fully booked, honey.” Brian laughs, they say their goodbyes. “Thank you, Trixie,” Justin adds, and Trixie hangs up.
Justin was grateful he has Trixie’s blessing, but then he wasn’t surprised to receive a text threatening to feed him to dogs if ever he hurts Brian. What surprised him was a follow-up message telling him to keep Brian or else he will act out. Justin knows both Brians had grown very close. There was also a time wherein Katya had been very open about his attraction for the barbie doll; however, they never really got together. Trixie could be joking, for all he knows, but he still found it threatening, but he was determined to take care of Brian; he can’t have it otherwise.
From then on, it had been a happy blur of a year of supportive friends, efforts to keep it private, the easy jokes and banter, meeting the parents, the family, greatest stage chemistry from Katya and Alaska that the fans love and swallow, mails, video calls at ungodly hours, quiet times in hotel rooms, digital hand jobs, loud nights in each other’s flats, sexting like teenagers, and a lot of rediscovering and relearning each other.
Many people thought Brian would be taking care of Justin, given the latter’s bratty behavior, but if Brian was to be honest, Justin had done a lot of adjustments for them. Brian never felt neglected nor rejected. And he just hopes he was able to do the same for Justin.
It had been amazing, really. Justin could not remember any bad thing. Yes, there were fights, but they would always be followed by amazing rough or gentle makeup sex. But now, here is Justin laying on his hotel room. About to cry because he had fucked up. It has been three days. Maybe Brian was giving him his space, or he decided he can’t deal with him anymore, or he is with Firkus, realizing how much he’s happier with him.
Justin hates every second of this. He had overreacted. He had hurt, and now he feels so alone. Seeing the video, he just saw also didn’t help, not at all. The worst part is that this proves how insecure Justin is actually in their relationship, that no matter what he does, he could never be the best, he could never be it for Brian. Brian had said so himself, and he had said it again, in that video.
However, he makes sure to keep Alaska out of it. He can’t let Alaska suffer and go back to square one. He can’t see himself going through all of that again with the idea of Brian, not being there, with his weird jokes and terrifying smoker laugh.
Three days ago, it had been one of their rare days off wherein they actually get to be together. They ate dinner, watched the latest episode of Game of Thrones; he listened to Brian review the episode, and they had a few discourse and cute arguments about the show, most of them just Justin teasing Brian, which was then followed by a cute make out session in their couch. It was the usual and they were contented.
It had been a few months since the moved in together. They have stopped sending letters to each other, since they are now living under the same roof, although they rarely feel it.
They were both exhausted, and were now sleeping, until Brian’s phone rang.
“Justin. Pleeeease, I promise to send you to the airport” Brian just grunts and murmurs, and Justin gets what he wants to do. He sits up and feels for Brian’s phone in the drawer beside their bed. He answers it, not bothering to look at the caller, and looks at Brian. Brian just mouths “I love you,” and shuts his eye.
“Hello?”
“Brian? Brian. It’s Brian. And I’m drunk, and I should know better, but he dumped me two weeks ago, right?” Justin was catapulted awake and alarmed at the sound of Trixie, definitely drunk, sobbing. Hard.
“Trixie? Where are you? This is–” Justin gets cut off by Trixie. She can’t probably hear him.
“Please come to me, I need you, Brian. God, why did I reject you? When you were so caring and now, I see how good you are with Alaska, and I might be ruining it for all of us, but why aren’t we together?” Justin’s heart sinks at this. At Trixie being dumped, at her getting wasted, and her wanting to have Brian.
“Alright, Trix, I need you to tell me where you are.”
“You know where to find me.”
“Oh, okay. Stay there. Brian will be there in a few. I’ll tell him.”
“Wait—hold on. Lasky? Fuck. Shit. I’m sorry.”
“No, sweetie. It’s alright. Stay wherever you are. I’ll have Brian pick you up.”
“No, Lasky. I’m— This is stupid. I’m drunk. I’m sorry.”
“I know, that’s why I believe you. Everything, a hundred percent, and you might not remember this, but it’s alright, honey. So calm down, breathe. Drop the bottle, okay? Stay there.” He drops the phone to wake Brian up.
“Brian, hey, Brian, wake up. Trixie is drunk, she was dumped, and she needs you to come to her.” Brian stirred, but sat upright upon hearing Trixie’s name.
“What? Where did she say she was? Why didn’t you tell me sooner?!”
“Alright, I get that you’re panicking, but I’ve talked to her a little bit, and she seemed to have clamed down and sober up. She says you know where to find her.”
“Oh, fuck. I gotta go.”
“Alright, take care.”
Justin watched Brian scurry out of their bedroom. He heard car engines running and moving away. This is alright. He decides to do what he can. He is known to be someone who keeps his word. He’ll stay as long as Brian wants him to, if he no longer needs him to, Justin will go. It has always been that way, and whatever makes Brian happy. He was never it after all. Now, Brian wants Brian and vice versa, so nothing’s stopping Brian from having what is it for him. Brian can be happy.
Justin says that, but what Trixie had said doesn’t get past his head. He had always worried that one day Brian would realize Justin is no longer worth keeping because of his feelings for the barbie, and now presented a good opportunity for both to act on their feelings and achieve happiness. Justin doesn’t want to be the one getting in the way of love and happiness. However, he still got hurt, and he’s thinking a lot, his confidence is shaking, and he feels like crying, but he doesn’t. He figures that packing would be the best idea since he needs to fly in just a few hours, and maybe he wouldn’t see that promise with Brian.
It had been three days ever since Justin flew without seeing Brian. Brian hadn’t contacted him, and he was getting worried. Is it actually over between them; Justin feels exhausted thinking about it. He decides he’ll sleep it off for tonight, and what happens happens. He has been here before; he has been through worse. But the thought of abstaining from Brian McCook, it’s scaring him, so fucking much, and Alaska hates being scared.
//
Brian had gone into Trixie’s. She said you know where to find me, and that would only mean one thing. Trixie was at her apartment’s balcony. She had always gone there when she was dumped and drunk, it would be locked, Brian knows the drill by now, but this time, Justin was the one who had answered the phone. He doesn’t know how that happened or how Trixie felt about that, so the only thing he could do now was get there as fast as he could.
He had hurried into the stairs into his apartment, but when he opened the door, the balcony sliding door was opened, and Trixie was sitting in the sofa, hands on her head. Brian shut the door gently, which made the doll look up.
“You look terrible,” Brian tried, Trixie was still in drag, minus the wig and the boots, and her makeup had run. The first time it happened, Brian was pretty shocked, but he’s used to how graphic things could get now.
“I am terrible; I look terrible, I feel terrible, I did something terrible.” This was how Brian would normally act around her, meaning Alaska had sent him without telling him anything, and it kills Trixie. She had said something she shouldn’t have, got drunk impulsively, but what she hates the most is, she could still feel how happy she is that Brian came.
“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay. Slow down. What happened?”
“You need to leave.” Trixie stood up, and tried ushering Brian to the door, but he was still too drunk to be able to stand up so she just stumbled and Brian had to hold her up.
“What do you mean? I just got here. Hey, you don’t have to be embarrassed now, I know the drill, now spill.” Brian looked intently into Trixie’s eyes, holding her firmly. Trixie was drunk, she could take advantage of that fact, and just blame it on the alcohol’s effect.
Brian did not saw it coming, so he didn’t know how to react. His brain had blanked out, and he couldn’t really respond eagerly. He doesn’t want to, too worried and confused. Trixie had smashed their lips together, and Brian had his eyes open. The barbie seemed desperate and soon enough, tears were falling in her cheeks again, following the same visible trail of tear stains.
“You really have to tell me now because this wasn’t part of the drill.”
“You did not respond to the kiss,”
“Well, I’m sorry. You know that I am usually an enthusiastic kisser, I love kissing, but you just shocked me there. Plus, I don’t like the taste of alcohol.”
“You’re not gonna say, what the fuck, man?”
“What the fuck, man?” Brian just replied, still confused as ever. Was Trixie just sad and wanted to get laid? That usually did not involve Brian as a prospect fuck, even before he got together with Justin, Trixie never really initiated any kiss, so this was new.
“Would the kiss be different if I repeated it now?” With that, Brian is somehow getting a few strokes of the picture now.
“Trixie, you know I love you, I really do, but for some miracle, you know I am a married woman now, and my malnourished trophy wife is waiting for me at home. I don’t really want to fuck that up.” Trixie started crying again after that. Loud.
“Fuck, I’m sorry. I fucked it up for you Bri.”
“Sorry? Don’t be sorry, honey. He knows that I went here. It’s fine. Justin made me go, actually. He’s also worried about you.”
“That’s the problem! Justin answered the call, but he still made you come here!”
“Trix, calm down. Breathe. Explain. Justin only told me to come here.”
“I was drunk, Bri. I could blame it all on that, but I was just so lonely, and I made a stupid phone call to you, and I told you on the phone how we should be together, and how I’m sorry now that I dumped you, and—”
“Hold on, I don’t remember any of that—”
“Because Justin was the one who answered the call!”
Brian doesn’t panic anymore, but this felt so close to it. He can’t panic now, Trixie still needs to get fixed up, and, and, and he almost forgot! Brian had promised Justin to see him off, and Justin will be away for God knows how long, and they won’t see each other for god knows how long because Brian would also be away, and he knows Justin. He knows his brains. Justin could take this as a sign of a potential break up, that Brian had chosen Trixie over him.
Sure, Brian had thought of a future with Trixie before, but all of those were thrown out the window when he decided to move in with the 49th state. And the kiss with Trixie confirmed it. Fuck, he wishes he could get back just in time, and clear this all up.
“Trix, did you mean any of what Justin heard?”
“I’m sorry, Bri.” A beat, Trixie was looking him in the eye, and this is breaking his heart, but what he found was more heartbreaking to him now, was how much Justin could also be anxious and hurting on his own. “I could move on. You’ve done it, obviously, but I just I don’t want to fuck this up for you.” Trixie looks down and grabs his hand. She has sobered up now, and the emotions seemed very raw in her face, and Brian wishes he could do something to make it go away, but Trixie has to fix that on her own, they both know that. And it would be best if Brian made himself scarce for a while, just a little while.
“You won’t fuck it up. We’ll be okay, we’re strong lesbian, biological, spiritual, female women, and we’ll make it work. Now, let’s get you cleaned up for rest.” He lifts the barbie doll’s chin to look him in the eye, offers a genuine smile which conveys all the fear, but also all the trust that he has in Trixie and in Justin and him. Brian decides that he could give Trixie a hug.
“Thanks, Bri. You really are the most horribly nice person I know, next to myself, of course,” Trixie whispers into him as they break apart, and they were able to laugh now. They still would later on because this hasn’t ruined anything. Their friendship had grown very strong for it to be severed by this incident, and somehow Trixie is content with that. He gets to keep Brian in his life, but this time she knows that he truly is happy.
Brian tried his best to help Trixie fix herself up, asked if Trixie still needs anything, then courtly excused himself out. He looked at the time.
2:13 a.m.
Justin was probably gone now.
Brian thought of giving Justin his space for now, hoping that he could think about what happened, while Brian tries to figure it out too. It also doesn’t feel right to sort things out in between gigs and through a phone call. He would wait.
They would be seeing each other in three days, and Brian just prepares to surprise his boyfriend.
//
Justin had slept and was told they have the following few days off, so he stayed in his hotel room. He still hasn’t gotten any call from Brian, who had kept him sane, who had kept him collected, who had kept him at his best, who was very addicting, who had kept him sober. This train of thought is dangerous. Soon enough, he’s thinking of having a few drinks, for fun, to feel fancy, to forget, he doesn’t know. But his thoughts are almost filled with how easily accessible the liquors are. Fuck it, he’d have just one glass. And that one glass had turned into one bottle. With each glass he downed, he feels bolder, braver, more miserable, and he wants to stop, but he can’t. He tries to remember the amount of alcohol required for it to be poison in one’s body. He held to that number the whole time. He read their past letters, scrolled through their pictures. He was drunk. He knew that wouldn’t fix anything, in fact it would only exacerbate the problem. He knows that. He’s an adult, but for now he decided to act adult and do the adult way to fixing problems, alcohol.
After all, no one was here besides himself. No one was here just like when he left their apartment. Maybe Brian had actually decided to leave the relationship that they were in, and right now, there was no one here. Justin doesn’t blame anyone, there’s no one here besides himself. He would drown himself in alcohol, nostalgia, regret, and blames for now, in hopes that he would resurface and float back in the morning. He hopes for that, even though that is never the case.
However, that did not seem very wise now that he was notified that Katya would be going up to his room in a few. He looked at the place, suddenly feeling embarrassed and afraid. Brian would be here, he’ll see what Justin had done, and they would really break up. He went to the comfort room to look at himself in the mirror. Drunk, pathetic. He locked himself inside. Brian couldn’t see him now. He couldn’t see Brian like this. He might die if he hears the words he had been expecting Brian to say.
Brian had arrived in the hotel where they will be staying at in U.K. He had requested to share a room with Alaska, which the organizers gladly agreed upon, a saving is a saving. They gave him a key card to the room, and he went there.
Brian did not really know what to expect, but he was expecting Justin to be alright somehow. The sight before him does not scream alright though. Beer bottles had scattered on the floor, along with glasses, and he recognized some pictures and letters he had sent Justin throughout their relationship, but no sign of a Glamazonian princess.
“Lasky? Are you here?” Brian asked into the room, gently closing the door, and tiptoeing around the bottles. He looked at the bed, but it was empty. Justin’s phone was in it. Fuck, Brian wished he had called.
“Justin, I’m here. Where are you?” He tried again, he could feel his throat closing up. Brian did this to Justin. He looked around, and saw some light seeping through the bathroom door. He silently goes there and tries to turn on the knob, it is locked.
“Baby, I’m sorry, I’m here. Open up.”
“You can say it. I’ll be fine. You don’t have to look at me now, I don’t want you pitying me or seeing me cry. Not that I’d cry.”
Brian struggles to hold it in, but he doesn’t cry just yet.
“What are you talking about? You’re drunk.”
“I am not on the program.”
“I know, baby, but you’re drunk. You drink, I know, but you’re drunk this time. Let me help you.”
“Yes, I am drunk, now break up with me.”
A beat, he could hear his heart break at what Justin said. Brian was taken aback by the reply. How Justin sounded like he was so sure it would happen, it sounded like it was definitely not the first time it had crosses the younger queen’s mind, but Brian had never even considered it.
“I’ve prepared myself, Brian. I saw the videos, I know what Trixie wanted, I just want you to be happy.” Justin could see Brian’s shadow at the bottom of the door, he slids down now, too drunk and too exhausted to keep standing up. Brian had never replied, maybe he was rehearsing what he would say, to make it hurt less, to let Justin down easier.
Brian heard Justin slide down to the floor, so he followed him and rest his forehead on the door. The video was for promotion, to make the fans happy. Brian used to think of that, but it was no longer a fact; he had been vocal about it to the fans, to Trixie, and it was all in good nature, but he hasn’t considered how it would affect Justin now, even as a joke.
“I’m sorry, Justin. Please, let’s talk.”
Justin wants to do anything, but talk. He just wants this to be over with. He may not be thinking straight, but he is so hurt and so far gone for Brian.
“Throw away the paper, throw away the mail,”
It had surprised both of them. Justin didn’t even know he started singing until he heard the second line of a very familiar song he had been listening to these past few days. Brian listened.
“Be bad if you want to, be prepared to fail,”
Justin’s voice had started cracking, and he was now sobbing, but he continued to sing the solemn song. In the quiet moments, his sharp breathing could be heard, and it is killing Brian. He had started crying as well. He wanted to protect Justin, give him space, but he did this to him. He was hurting. They were both hurting.
“And all the expectations I would never meet, take you to the point of never believing and you’re tired of me,”
“Justin, please, open the door,”
“Still nobody knows it, something I can’t be, my love.”
It was bittersweet how this song had described everything that was going on Justin’s head. He was so determined to fight for the both of them, but he could never be enough. He would never be the best for him.
“But there’s no one here who loves you like I do, thank god this much is true, thank god this much is true, and there’s no one here who knows just how I feel, thank god this much is real, thank god this much is real, and broken down” Justin had finished the first chorus, and he was full on sobbing now.
“I’m sorry, Brian. I can’t look at you when we break up. It would kill me.”
“We are not breaking up. Let’s speak. Please open the door.” Justin was surprised to hear the raspy voice of the older queen. He had been crying, he sounded desperate and hurt, and Justin wants nothing else but to comfort him, make him stop hurting.
Justin turned the lock on the door. Brian heard the clicking, and stood up to open it to reveal a small Justin curled up on the cold tiled floor, head in his knees, hair sticking out everywhere. Brian is reminded of the small boy that he helped pick himself up, but now he has done this. Brian had made Justin go back to square one.
“I’m sorry.” Justin apologized as soon as Brian enters. Brian mimics Justin’s position directly in front of him on the floor, their knees brushing.
“I’m sorry, Justin.” Brian meant it. He was sorry he let Justin feel this way. He didn’t know how insecure he was on their relationship, and that’s because Brian failed to secure him, and he’s sorry.
“This is pathetic. I’m drunk. I’m sorry. I’m very insecure; I thought I was getting better, but here I am. It’s just, the thought of losing you fucked me up. I love you so fucking much, but there are so many reasons for you to not love me. I’m a baby, I robbed you, burglarized you, I’m a snake. And I had been convincing myself that we wouldn’t be a Needles-Thunderfuck up repeat, but we are because I’m drunk and insecure.” Justin looks up now, and Brian was amazed at how Justin had said it in one breath.
“And you just happen to be a sly snake who stole my heart. I’m sorry I failed to make you feel as confident in our relationship as I am. You were able to give me that security, and I didn’t.”
“It was just a joke, I overreacted.”
“Trixie told me, about the phone call.” Justin looked genuinely surprised with the confession.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, and Justin, baby, my Trixie thing was a long time ago. That was ages ago. I moved in into the 49th state, and my brain and heart was filled with him, I have no room left for a country barbie doll. Trix and I are good friends, we’ll be okay, but you get it.” Brian kneels down now to get closer into Justin, and held his face to make sure, he gets the point across.
“I’m sorry,”
“Hey, don’t be. I’m sorry I still keep on making jokes about Trixie and I, just —I’m here, Justin. I’m here now. I’m sorry I hadn’t called you. I’m sorry I let it get this way”
“I was the one who let it get to this.”
“Will you please stop blaming yourself? We’ll be okay. We’re okay. Plus, you weren’t the only one who was scared shitless and got fucked up at the thought of losing us.”
Brian used the word us, and Justin could now believe that they’ll be okay. Brian really had this calming effect on him. Maybe because of the blue eyes or just how he knows what to say anytime.
“Does that mean we’re not breaking up?”
“I’m disappointed at myself that you even considered that,” Brian was about to kiss Justin, but the taller queen stops him. “I’m drunk,”
“That’s fair,” but Brian still kissed him, and Justin could feel the difference in this kiss. Brian was trying to get a point across, and Justin could understand it, he could melt into the kiss.
When they break apart, Brian had showered his face with kisses and embraced him. Justin lets himself fall into Brian’s warmth.
“Hey,” Brian calls, and pulls out of the hug gently. “You know I love you, right?” Justin nods now, having gained confidence from their talk.
“Do you still feel like drinking?” Oh, Justin had almost forgotten that he had gotten drunk, the heat that the alcohol gave him was replaced by a warm fuzzy feeling only Brian could give him.
“No, um, I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
“I don’t want to pressure you into anything, you can get rid of the bottles in your own time or if you want me to do it, just tell me.” Brian prepares to stand up, and kiss Justin’s head.
“Now, come on up, you need a shower.”
“Help me clean first?”
Brian was surprised by Justin’s decision, but he was glad to help his lover.
They had cleaned the place, Justin making sure he grabbed every bottle and placed it on the trash bag Brian was holding. They had cleaned up after that and tidied the room. They ordered room service and had a Golden Girl’s marathon.
Justin had always hated the impermanence hotels gives him, but right here, right now, as he buries his head into Brian’s shoulder, allowing himself to sleep on an episode, Rose’s interesting stories fading into the background, the hotel looked like theirs, with their drag and their trash, and they’re both here, together. He smiles as he feels a kiss on his forehead, as he fell asleep.“Good night, princess.”
#rpdr fanfiction#matryoshka#katlaska#smut#canon compliant#fluff#jealousy#hurt/comfort#katya zamolodchikova#willam belli#alaska thunderfuck#trixie mattel#aaa girls#courtney act#adore delano#ginger minj#tw mentions of past addiction#tw relapsing#tw alcoholism#tw sometimes it might just get so sad#submission
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Treasure Hunt
Fandom: Yuri on Ice
Summary: ‘’The rascal! That debaucher! That- That- Lolly gagging playboy!’’ He covered Mila’s eyes. ‘’’Don’t look! If a primordial like me almost fainted looking at this, I don’t want to know what this will do to your systems!’’ ‘’…An extreme reaction to a simple cuddle, but I like your style.’’
Phichit finds out his treasure (Yuuri) has been stolen. By Victor. Time to stalk the couple!
Disclaimer: I don’t own Yuri on Ice
FF.net | AO3 | Tumblr (my other entries: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7)
You can find my writing progress here. If you can’t keep straight who’s what kind of creature anymore, here’s a list, plus some extra background information for those who’d like to read it!
My fic master list here.
This was written for yoifantasyweek ( @yoifantasyweek for those interested in checking out the other authors) 11/18/17- Day Six: Gold. I used the prompts ‘’Dragon,’’ and ‘’Treasure’’.
This is part of the Land of Gods and Monsters ‘verse, but can be read as a standalone fic. You can find a note on the chronology of this ‘verse here.
Day 1
‘’You don’t get it. I’m his mother.’’
‘’I was present when Hiroko birthed him.’’
‘’Yuuri’s my treasure!’’ Phichit does some jazz hands around his face for the sparkle effect.
Mila somersaults through the air, wings beating. ‘’And V-boy is my charge, darling.’’
Phichit pouts. ‘’I’m not going to ship them!’’
‘’Chuchu, ‘shipping’ is never going to be a thing.’’
‘’Don’t worry, I’ll make it happen!’’
Day 5
Big News! Dragon Crashes Wedding Party!
‘’I’m a Phaya Naga! Oh-are my eyes deceiving me? ‘Our eyewitness reports the dragon ran in screaming: ‘’You ain’t never gonna get my baby- Oooooooh- I like that song!’’’ I didn’t do that!’’
‘’No, you ran in screaming: ‘You ain’t never gonna get my baby- SOMEbody once told me the world is gonna-‘’
‘’roll me, I ain’t the sharpest tool in the shed! She was looking kind of dumb with her finger and her thumb in the shape of an L on her forehead…’’
Day 6
‘’I never realized how chipmunk-y Victor’s cheeks were.’’
“His ass is nothing compared to Yuuri’s.”
“A. You are so right. B. MY SON! You are rightfully worshipping him. C. I MEANT HIS FACE.”
“…I blame your butt jokes, Chuchu.”
Day 8
‘’Oh my dragon scale. The rascal! That debaucher! That- That- Lolly gagging playboy!’’ He covers Mila’s eyes. ‘’’Don’t look! If a primordial like me almost fainted looking at this, I don’t want to know what this will do to your systems!’’
‘’…An extreme reaction to a simple cuddle, but I like your style.’’
Phichit gasps. ‘’HE- Victor just nuzzled Yuuri’s hair- Why are we not crystal shotting this? We should be crystal shotting this! Evidence, Mila, evidence!’’
‘’You know, taking a crystal shot of you right now would be perfect blackmail material.’’
‘’Giant snakes in hula outfits are common and a great disguise, I’ll have you know! Besides, why ever would I be embarrassed about wearing a coconut bra? It’d be blackmail against other people. Can you imagine it? If I show you this shot of me being the hottest thing ever, you’ll die!’’
Mila taps her lips. ‘’A vision- but do be sure to include your furbie cosplay, m’kay.’’
Phichit cackles. ‘’Furbie-licious to the max! Wait- where did they go now?!’’
Day 9
A rendezvous in the Niagara Falls.
Mila has the time of her life, Phichit flails and befriends the local hamsters.
Day 10
Tracking down Victor and Yuuri isn’t hard. What takes up time is the information gathering needed to help Victor find the place where he belongs. Behind the bars, that is.
The criminal in question is currently smiling softly as he uses Phichit’s cinnamon son as his slave. He has deceived Yuuri so thoroughly the poor boy is smiling while brushing his captor’s hair!
‘’I will take all of his Armani suits. Not to cut them apart- oh no, that would be too kind. I’ll paint them with daisies and roses and rice, and then I’ll make it smell so nice he’ll die from pleasure the next time he puts it on! Positivity will kill him!’’
‘’Savage, Chuchu.’’
‘’Hush, Millikins, they’ll hear us!’’
‘’Oh yes, a fairy and a Phaya Naga hovering in the air in front of a tower window. The height of stealth! Also, did you put on a few pounds?’’
‘’Are you implying you can’t lift me?’’
‘’Please, I could lift you in your true form while being five centimeters tall!’’
‘’Let’s try it out!’’
‘’You are so on!’’
Day 11
Peering over the hedge, Phichit sighs ‘’Why can’t they just stay in one place? I need my beauty sleep!’’
‘’Maybe if someone stopped announcing their presence…’’
‘’You were the one tipping them off?!’’
‘’…Sure. Yeah. Let’s go with that.’’
Yuuri sticks his head over the hedgerow. ‘’She didn’t need to, with the amount of noise you made.’’
‘’Yuuri!’’ Phichit smooshes his face against his chest. ‘’Ma baby boy! Don’t worry, mama’s here, he’ll protect you from the big bad angel!’’
Yuuri just sighs, remarkably fond for someone whose glasses were just ruined. ‘’Nice to see you too, Phichit.’’
Mila eddies through the air in the direction of the garden, ruffling Yuuri’s hair in passing. ‘’Atta, boy!’’
Phichit runs after her. ‘’Hey, if you’re pinching Victor’s cheeks I want in!’’
‘’The squishy-squish is all mineeeeeeeeeee, Chuchu!’’
‘’I… Might be convinced to let Victor into the family.’’
The Russian’s eyes lit up.
‘’But only if I get your conditioner, because oh my gosh, your hair is silky. I mean- you’ve been feeding Yuuri katsudon, you can’t be that bad.’’ Phichit inches forwards. ‘’Also, squuuuuuuish!’’
Victor doesn’t even try to get away, far too busy beaming at Yuuri, rainbows appearing all around him. ‘’I have been blessed!’’
‘’Me too,’’ Mila cackles, ‘’Blackmail material for the next millennium at the least!’’
Yuuri pales, Victor wails, and Phichit? Phichit beams.
Yeah. He can see it. He ships it! (Yes, Mila, shipping is totally gonna happen).
Author’s Note
The song Phichit and Mila sing on Day 8 is All-Star by Smash mouth!
…The butt joke exchange was actually inspired by M-chan blaming me for corrupting her with my butt jokes *cackles*
#yoifantasyweek#phichit chulanont#mila babicheva#yoi#fic#yuuri katsuki#victor nikiforov#onceabluemoonwrites fic#fanfiction#fanfic#my posts#victuuri#the land of gods and monsters 'verse
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The night will go on, my little windmill (pt. 2)
fandom: tmnt idw/2012
pairing: woodyangelo
the unexpected continuation
x
“Oh, you gotta be kiddin’ me.”
You wake up abruptly, with your arms full and your chest heavy, Mike’s head tucked under your chin and his hair in your mouth. For a long moment, you’re disoriented -- you don’t recognize the room you’re in, or the voice that woke you, or the man standing above your bed.
“Jesus, kid, if this were life or death, you’d be shit outta luck.”
You blink once, twice.
“Is it?” you manage, and the man gives you a dark look.
“It will be the next time I come home to this shit,” he says with feeling. Now you’re fully awake, and it hits you that this must be Leatherhead’s roommate, Slash, home from his graveyard shift. And all he walked in on was some harmless cuddling, but from the look on his face he’s taking it about as well as your high school classmates would have.
You’re out of your small-minded town, out in the wider world. You thought it would be better here.
You pull your sleeping friend closer, curling him against you as you sit up warily, and you’re running a quick mental catalog; your things are still packed, Klunk is in the next room, you’re both dressed -- it wouldn’t take more than a few minutes to get up and get gone before this guy calls the cops or something.
Your thoughts must show on your face. Somehow, it only pisses this stranger off even more.
He opens his mouth, heated. His eyes drop to Mikey, and his mouth snaps shut again. “Kitchen,” he bites out, and turns on his heel to storm out of the room.
The non-sequitur throws you off. You sit dumbly for a minute, staring at the empty spot where Slash was standing, and then let your eyes move past it to the rest of the small apartment.
Leatherhead is awake, and smiling wryly at you from his seat at the kitchen bar. Klunk is in his lap, gnawing on a sausage link, and his gentle presence combined with the luring smell of fresh coffee is too much for you to deny.
Disentangling yourself from Mike without waking him is something you’re practiced at, and you shuffle warily into the bright kitchen -- only to have a mug off coffee thrusted at you unceremoniously.
You manage it catch it without spilling any, and follow a pointed finger into the empty chair at Leatherhead’s side.
“First of all,” Slash says sharply, “don’t look at me like I’m every other bigoted asshole you’ve met so far. That kinda black-and-white thinkin’ is only gonna get you in trouble, kid.”
You look from his angry everything up into Leatherhead’s mild countenance, and Leatherhead smiles at you. He holds up his left hand, where a plain wedding band sits comfortably on his ring finger, and you stare at it.
Look again at Slash, find his left hand and the matching band on it, and say, “Oh.”
You feel kind of stupid. But somehow most of the ire is leaking out of Slash’s face, and the man sighs shortly.
“Yeah, oh. My problem ain’t with you and your boy bein’ a couple, it’s with you and your boy bein’ babies.”
“What -- we are not! We’re both nineteen.”
“Like I said,” Slash says dryly, “babies. I’m not really in the business of harboring runaways.”
Your grip on the coffee mug tightens.
“We’re just trying to get to New York,” you say bitterly, so frustrated and doing your best not to raise your voice. “My truck needed repairs, so we’re stuck in Boulder for now. Your roomshare was way cheaper than a motel would have been, so we -- “
“What d’you think you’ve got waiting for you in New York?” Slash says with the same exasperated knowing disguised as worldly patience that Leo likes to use, and your hackles go up.
“We’ve both got a full ride to NYU! And with the way everyone’s actin’, I’m startin’ to think that’s a bad thing!”
Silence greets the remark, full enough that it’s almost a statement in itself. You’re staring at the countertop, so you have no idea what the men’s faces look like -- and you’re willing the angry heat in your eyes not to turn into tears, because then you’d really have to leave, and you don’t have anywhere else to go.
“NYU?” It’s Leatherhead who asks, and the ex-Marine has been nothing but kind to you so far, so you nod grudgingly. “I had no idea. Congratulations are in order, then.”
“Thanks.”
This prickly attitude is hard to hold onto. You’ve always been one to just let things go. For Mike, though -- for him -- you’ll hold heavy grudges until the weight of them breaks your back. It’s the least you can do after everything he’s done for you.
So you flick a cautious glance at Slash’s face, trying to gauge where to go from here.
The man is still frowning, but it doesn’t seem to be directed at you anymore.
“Your families ain’t for it?”
“My grandparents gave me money and the truck,” you say immediately, taking up for them. “They didn’t have to do that, we’ve been saving for years. They’re proud of us, both me and Mike. They know how hard we’ve worked for this.”
“That kid’s parents, then -- Mike’s parents -- they’re not proud?”
“Nah, it’s -- they had an uncle looking after them, but he wasn’t a very good guy. It’s just Mike and his brothers now.” You feel Klunk climb into your lap and let go of your coffee to pet her. The soft rumble of her purrs soaks into your hands, soothing. “They weren’t gonna let him go, ‘cause it’s so far away. But we’ve been -- we want this,” you say, desperate to make this stranger understand. “And I couldn’t leave him. He’d suffocate back there, man. In that place. He’d really -- “
“Alright, kid,” Slash says, pushing a full plate toward you. Something about his rugged face has gentled, even if you can’t put your finger on what. “I get it.”
Mikey wanders into the living room about an hour later, all tousled curls and crooked clothes. He must have been tired if he slept through the smell of food.
There’s a plate for him in the microwave, and Leatherhead rises from his overstuffed armchair to heat it up for him. Mikey smiles at the massive hand that ruffles his hair as the two pass each other, but doesn’t divert from his beeline straight for you.
He puddles into your lap like a boneless creature and kisses you soundly, like you’ve been doing it for years. The sunlight burns hints of color into his dark hair. You hook an arm around his waist to keep him from falling.
“Ugh,” Slash says, “babies, makin’ out on my couch.”
“Don’t be an asshole,” you say agreeably.
“So how long has this been going on?” Slash asks, gesturing between you and Mike. You blink, and then you blink at Mike, who tilts his head thoughtfully.
“I dunno,” Mike says innocently, impish mischief tucked into the corners of his mouth, “what time is it?”
And maybe you’ve been a little bit in love with him since you first heard his still-nameless song on that ridiculous mixtape. Maybe you listened to it more times than you’re willing to admit, thinking of kissing him instead of kissing Sally in the bed of your truck, your fingers in his hair instead of hers, knowing his weight and warmth on top of you the way you know the road home.
Maybe you still have that tape, tucked away in the glovebox.
(Maybe you’ve wanted this even when it was something you couldn’t have.)
When Mike’s phone rings, he fishes it out of his pocket without the dread you were expecting.
“I blocked Raph and Leo,” he says by way of explanation, and his voice is light. He wouldn’t be Mike if pushing his brothers away didn’t hurt, but a moment later he says “Donnie!” brightly and you can relax.
He explains your car problems and talks about the men you’re staying with, and you cringe a little at how it sounds put so plainly.
“We found the roomshare on Craigslist,” you lean into say, hoping that makes their arrangement sound more credible, knowing it probably doesn’t.
“Please be careful,” Donatello all but begs.
“I’m always careful,” Mike replies easily.
You both know it for a lie. Mike is very rarely careful for his own sake. He has a reckless streak a mile wide, one that comes from living in a house full of ghosts.
You’re glad he hasn’t had a chance to grow up like his brothers.
The two of you are never getting older.
The night before your truck is ready for the road again, Slash and Leatherhead both have the night off and the small apartment is filled with the smell of homemade pot roast and the unobtrusive sounds of the city creeping in on a breeze through all the open windows.
Mike found the DVD collection sequestered under the TV and he’s been arguing passionately with Slash over some ancient mecha cartoon for the better part of an hour. Mike opens up when he has room to, really brightens when he’s not living under a shadow, and when Slash bullies the two of you into programming his and Leatherhead’s numbers into your phones, you get the distinct feeling you and Mike have been adopted by them both.
“You brats better get to bed if you’re gonna be driving again in the morning,” Slash says gruffly, and then, before he can be mistaken as caring, adds, “And if you’re gonna bunk together, there’s not gonna be any funny business. That bed in there ain’t for any recreational activities, got it? ”
You color and scowl at him. Mike looks very serious and says, “We’ll sleep on it.”
Leatherhead guffaws at the awful pun, and Slash looks like he doesn’t know whether to be irritated or proud. You end up falling asleep on the couch in the end, with Mike in one arm and his stupid stuffed sheep in the other and that god awful cartoon still on TV, and the last thing you’re aware of is a blanket being drawn up around your shoulders.
You were only in this place, with these people, for a handful of days -- and you think it’s kind of amazing, how much more like home it already feels than the town you left behind ever did.
You wake up groggy, the alarm on your phone beeping insistently. You find your shoes, exchange goodbyes you barely remember, allow plastic tupperware heavy with leftovers to be forced into your hands, and follow Mike out the door into the dark blue of early morning.
“My turn to drive,” Mike says softly, and you fall asleep again in the passenger side seat of your old truck with Klunk in your lap and the radio on low.
The noonday sun digs fingers into your eyes and it’s that more than anything that wakes you.
Mike is humming his song underneath his breath, fingers tapping the steering wheel, and you know he’s working something out. You’ll have to take over soon, so he can whip out that ever-present notebook and write it down.
When he notices you’re awake, he tips you a bright smile.
“We shoulda stole Slash’s mattress,” he says with all the certainty of someone having come to a decision whole hours ago. It makes you grin as you push yourself upright -- both because Slash would have been equal parts pissed and impressed if you managed to pull it off, and because it’s exactly the kind of caper you and Mike rock at pulling off together.
“Next time,” you tell him. The bighorn sheep you bought at the Garden of the Gods is sitting on the dash, its cheesy "Someone in Colorado loves you!” shirt facing out the window in the direction you’re going.
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Forced marriage tuff and dagur 💍
For Whump!Prompts: (Forced Marriage)
—–
As far as letters went from the Berserker tribe, this one was completely confounding. A real conundrum. Not to mention a huge step backwards for Viqueendom-kind. Which may or may have not been an actual word, but that was beside the point.
All this time thinking that Dagur was maybe a decent guy, not to mention completely awesome and terrifying, with a great laugh … and for what? So he could prove to be an utter creep?
Tuffnut’s eyes narrowed as he read over the letter again. The same letter that demanded his sister’s arrival for a Berserker wedding, along with her hope chest full of embroidered napkins and quilts and tailored clothing (as if she could even thread a needle let alone sew; he did all the sewing!) and a wedding dress fit for a Chieftain’s bride.
Poor Ruffnut had been crying since she’d heard the news - his poor dear sister was beside herself once again, not wanting to live a violent, short, but likely happy life on an island of crazy Berserkers without getting a choice in the matter.
Their own parents had orchestrated this entire thing; clearly gouging Dagur for a bride price, since Ruff was the only Viking maiden on Berk not yet betrothed. Apparently the pressure had mounted on him to find a wife, since Oswald was in Valhalla.
Tuff felt for the guy, he really did, but he didn’t see why Ruffnut’s own freedom and happiness had to be dragged down the latrine as well. This was all boar-dung! Not only had his parents turn a deaf ear to his protests (which he delivered by song, stridently and off-key at their bedroom door, all night) but Stoick had not helped either.
“Son,” the man had said, putting a hand on Tuff’s shoulder. “Our tribe needs allies more than ever, and so do the Berserkers. Dagur’s people have had a long hard road to recovery, and they want to see their young chieftain settled down and married. It’s time for Dagur to start a new life and family of his own, and he chooses to do that so his own sister won’t have to take in the burden of being the sole heiress of her tribe. He’s doing this so Heather can marry for love, rather than duty.”
“Oh, wow, good for him! He’s doing it for his sister, so mine can just eat a whole load of spotted ice pike, I guess,” Tuff had ranted, not soothed at all. He’d stormed off after that, and Stoick had let him, knowing he’d come around eventually.
In an awful way, it made sense. Tuff couldn’t pretend he would do the same for his sister, if their roles were reversed - give up his own happiness, marry Heather and ruin her life, just to spare Ruffnut any and all possible disappointments.
He thought about that for a while, and finally realized what he had to do.
—–
The kohl, honestly, was the grossest stuff that had ever gotten in or near his eyes, and that wasn’t counting the many bugs that had drowned in those gray storm-cloud irises. It gave him a slightly raccoonish look, as though he’d been the one crying all week, and he was worried the powdered lip color was the wrong shade as well.
At the very least, his dress was totally on point, and he’d had Dogsbreath help him with his hair - tying it up in a bun, with beautifully carved yak bone pins holding it in place. It had taken some work to comb out his matted locks, not to mention endless egg shampoos to get it clean, before it fell past his shoulders to his backside - ending in soft and natural curls.
Tuff had even put some flowers and last minute embroidery on his dress and veil, then sweet-talked Thuggory (who didn’t recognize him at all) into lashing the hope chest to a Nadder’s saddle. He didn’t want to ruin his dress, after all, or deprive Ruff of Barf’s company, though it nearly rent his soul in twain to say goodbye to Belch. Not to mention Chicken, though he knew his little fricasse had found herself a new family.
Just like he was going to have to make for himself, unless he could be so awful and utterly heartless that Dagur would want to divorce him. Hmm. Yeah, Tuff was fairly certain he could give that option a try.
He’d left a note for Ruff before he left. Hopefully she’d get the hint and mess up her hair, take up an insane personality and bad-smelling lifestyle. She’d have to; otherwise the jig was up, no matter how feminine Tuff could make himself.
He arrived on Berserker an hour before the wedding, narrowing his eyes as he saw Dagur standing at the decorated battlements, where Ruff had been directed to land. He reached down before he landed to yank on the ropes tying the hope chest in place, and was darkly satisfied to hear Dagur’s frightened yelp as the heavy cedar box nearly landed on his head.
It landed with a crash as Dagur nimbly leapt out of the way, but didn’t splinter, built sturdy enough to survive a lifetime of Nutt antics.
The Nadder landed smoothly, more or less, and Tuff spent a moment to make sure his hair and makeup were in place before gathering up the trails of his wedding dress and hopping down.
Dagur was standing there just staring at him, rather than hastening to help him down - the big oaf. Tuff had to remind himself that Ruff wouldn’t care about that sort of thing and just smoothed out his dress, sighing. “So,” he asked, trying to sound like his twin. “Where’s the big shindig at, anyway? And how much food are we talking?”
“Ruffnut, there’s … something I gotta say first.” Dagur was approaching, gazing at him with the saddest greenest eyes he’d ever seen. Oh boy. Where was this going?
“I know this wasn’t - that I wasn’t your first choice. Your parents are likely forcing you to do this, your brother and his Chicken probably hate me, and I’m sure when Heather gets back from her journey following our father’s notes, and finds out I married you without your singular permission, she’ll throw me off the highest peak of the island. But please hear me out - a wedding is what my tribe needs to heal. To move on past the wounds that life has … ”
Dagur paused and winced. “That I have inflicted upon them all. I know it isn’t fair to you, or Tuffnut, but my sister is reeling from losing the chance to ever meet her father again.
“She needs a familiar face on this island of - well, complete strangers. She got along with you just fine, right? I mean, she was best friends with Astrid, but she told me how much of a family you guys were to her. All of you. I can’t ever bring back our father, any more than I can do for our mother. Or any of her tribe … or foster parents … but I can at least bring her a small piece of the happiness she knew with all of you. You can hate me all you want - make my life a living hell - I completely deserve it. But will you at least do me the honor of being a kind and loving sister to Heather?”
Tuff would have dearly liked to believe that nothing in Dagur’s speech moved him, certainly not enough to forgive this arranged marriage foolishness. It was a completely ill-thought out and ridiculous way to bring some mediocre comfort to one’s grieving sister …
Sort of like … like stealing one’s sister’s identity … and going off to her wedding without a fair warning or really any way for her to keep living her preferred lifestyle as herself, and also sticking her with the fallout if anyone found out and accused her of being part of this potentially alliance-ending plan.
Oh, Thor …
Tuff couldn’t help his eyes filling up with tears and spilling over, making his kohl streak even worse (he was absolutely never buying makeup from Johann ever again; that man did not know his cosmetics as well as he claimed to.)
“I’m so sorry!” he bawled, no longer disguising his voice at all as he dropped to his knees before Dagur. The man jumped, startled. “I have made an error!”
“Wait a minute - Boy-nut?! What in Thor’s name –?!” Dagur sounded furious, and Tuff couldn’t blame him - not really. This whole thing was ruined because of him, and now Dagur would have to call it all off and he’d be embarrassed and Heather would find out anyway and definitely still throw Dagur off the highest peak. And it would all be for nothing, because she would still be alone and unhappy.
Dagur’s hands wrapped around his throat, but didn’t squeeze, not yet. “Tell me why you did this?! Was this you and your twin’s idea of a joke?!”
Tuffnut sobbed in answer, but couldn’t shake his head no because of Dagur’s grip. He took a few gasping breaths, and confessed everything - his sister’s unhappiness and how nobody was even trying to stop her from having to go marry against her will, and how alone and helpless she felt.
“Ruffnut is a free and wild unreckoning spirit of chaos - she’s too good to be forced unwilling into the chains if an unwanted bond! That and she deserves a chance to realize she’s way better than everyone’s last choice!” He sniffled and curled down further as Dagur let him go, shocked.
“My sister deserves every happiness too,” Tuff hitched. “Just -just as much as Heather! And even if you killed me right here, right now, in one of your awesome Berserker rages, I’d do it all over again if it meant I could give her that!” He sniffled, and wiped at his eyes with his knuckles, scowling as they came away black. “Except … I’d definitely wear better makeup. This stuff is terrible.”
A soft chuckle made him look up, to see tears in Dagur’s eyes. The Berserker wiped his own eyes and then sighed kneeling to put gentle hands on Tuffnut’s shoulders.
“I think maybe we understand each other more than either of us are thinking. Tuffnut … we both care about our sisters. We love them and we’ll do anything for them, as only brothers can. If you want, I won’t tell my Berserkers anything tonight. We’ll fix your makeup - which doesn’t look too bad, except for the eyes - and have this wedding exactly as planned. It’ll be binding, meaning your sister will be off the hook, and my sister will just have to settle for a familiar brother-in-law.”
“I … yeah, I can do that. I’m all in and dressed to stun. But what if your tribe finds out -?”
“Oh, I won’t tell anyone if you won’t. There’s the matter of kids, but that’s for later. Right now everyone’s just clamoring for me to find a spouse and throw a really great wedding.
“By Loki, I’m sure everyone will be relieved you and I can’t have kids,” Tuff remarked.
Dagur snorted, and broke out into full fledged laughter, which Tuff had to admit was rather contagious. He stood up, pulling Tuff to his feet with a gentle tug on his elbows.
“Come on, then. Provided your sister doesn’t come crashing the wedding just to kill me, we’re going to have long and interesting night.”
“Neither of us can really back out now, can we?” Tuff asked, listening to the cheering of Berserkers from the lantern-lit main square. There was already faint music swelling, the smell of cooking food. Dagur had gone all out for this, and his people sounded so happy. "Let’s go face that music.”
Dagur grinned and scooped Tuff up in his arms, taking care to keep the train from dragging across the dusty cobblestones. “Want me to call you husband, when we’re alone?” he asked softly.
He felt a blush creep across his face and fiddled with the lacework on his sleeves. “Actually, I would like that …” Tuff murmured, as he was carried to Dagur’s hut so he could freshen up. “Heh. Husband-nut.”
It was going to be a long night … but so far, not such a terrible start to a marriage.
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Plants to attract the Fae
Plants to attract the Fae - http://www.hafapea.com/thelandoffaepages/faerygarden.html Bluebells - Fairies are called to their midnight dances by ringing these little bells. They represent kindness and are the most potent of all Faery flowers. They are also called "warning bells" because it is said that one who hears a bluebell ring will soon die. They also serve to warn those who are about to travel into a bluebell glade, for these are places of consecrated Faery magick and enchantment. On Beltane Eve, make an ankle bracelet of bluebells and jingle bells to attract the helpful fae folk to you. Boxwood - It can be clipped into a topiary tree and decorated for a special Faerie events, such as a wedding. Buttercup - This flowers' faeries help to bring compassion to humans. They bring healing energy and understanding. Use this flower to rediscover yourself or to boost your self-esteem. Carnation - These faeries bring deep love. They help to strengthen one's aura, and renew one's love of life. The red ones attract faeries who heal animals. Coreopsis Cosmos Cowslips - These are loved and protected by the faeries and they help one to find hidden faerie gold. The fae use the blossoms for umbrellas. “And I serve the Faery Queen, To draw her orbs upon the green. The cowslips tall her pensioners be, In their gold coats spots you see: Those be rubies, faery favors: In those freckles live their savors. I must go to seek dome dewdrops here, And hang a pearl in every cowslips’ ear.” - Shakespeare Edmund Canterbell wrote: “That they do dwell within the cowslips hollow is truth, for I have seen them fly out in intoxicated abandon.” Crocus - These faeries have the power to inspire love but may drain your strength while collecting them. Daffodil - This flower faerie is good for inner beauty. Let it help you with meditation and clarity of thought. Daffodils are also useful for evoking faeries and elves. Daisy - This is the best flower to use to connect to the Faeries and relaxing in a daisy bed will help one to contact faeries, especially Dryads. Putting a daisy chain on a child is said to prevent faeries from beguiling the child and carrying her or him away. The daisy will also help you to awaken and use your creativity and your inner strength. Dandelion – This flower is said to be used by the faeries for making beverages. Forget-Me-Not - A symbol of love and devotion. The flowers also provide protection from faeries and are said to help to unlock the secrets of the fae. If you place forget-me-nots on the side of a mountain where fairy treasure is hidden, secret cavern walls will open up for you. Fountain butterfly bush Foxglove - (Poisonous) Folk names for foxglove include Faery Thimbles, Faery Glove, Little Folks’ Glove, Faery Fingers, Faery Petticoats, Faery’s Cap, and Faery Weed. The name is derived from "Little Folks' Glove" because the flowers are worn by fairies as gloves and hats and the little flecks found on the flowers are definitely faery fingerprints. It is a favorite of Earth Elementals. Bad luck will follow those who pick these flowers and bring them in their home. The leaves and the plant's juice are said to grant release from faery enchantments. Planting foxglove is an invitation to faeries to enter you garden. Plant it near your front door to invite the fae in to your home. Wearing foxglove is a charm to attract faery energy, put a dried sprig in a talisman to keep you surrounded by faery light. Gardenia - These bring feelings of peace and protection. These flower faeries are very protective of children, so plant Gardenias in places where children play, so the fae will watch over them. These faeries will also help to increase your telepathic abilities with all nature spirits. Heliotrope – Beloved of Fire Elementals. Harebell - These faeries inspire honesty - the person wearing them is incapable of lying. Hollyhock – Beloved of the fae, especially the pink ones. Honeysuckle - Will help to stimulate dreams and your psychic energy. These Fae will teach you how to develop your "charms" to draw others to you. Hyacinth - These help to restore belief. They will give you energy to overcome grief and awaken greater gentleness. Iris – Iris was the Greek Goddess of the rainbow, and the faeries of this flower manifest in all of the rainbow’s colors. Jasmine - These faeries will help to bring on peaceful dreams and clarity of the mind. Lamb's Ear - This wooly perennial is a pet for the Faeries - normal animals are just too big! Lavender - Where there is lavender there is great faerie activity. Faery clans like to have many parties and lavender infused wine is one of their favorites because it promotes pure knowledge. Lavender plants are also where the Faeries drape their clothes to dry. These faeries bring healing, protection and help to overcome emotional blocks and the scent of lavender in the air relieves stress. Elf leaf is another name for lavender, which is used in elfin magic. Lilac – The scent attracts musical faeries. Lily - These fae help one to nurture purity and humility within one's self. Lobelia – attracts winged faeries. Marigold - These flower faeries know the magic of thunderstorms. They will teach you the power of words and the mysteries of love. A jam made of marigolds that is eaten in the morning will help you to see faeries very soon after ingesting it. The Druids believe that Marigold water, made from the blossoms, then rubbed on the eyelids, helps one to see faeries. Morning Glory – Repels unwanted night faeries. Mums - They help to strengthen the life force. They will help you to express yourself more lovingly. New York Aster Orange-eye butterfly bush/summer lilac Orchid - Hammarbya paludosa is known as Green Faery Orchid. Pansy - Attracts parades of trooping faeries and they use these flowers for making love potions. Oberon, the faery king, used pansies in his love potion in “A Midsummer Night’s Dream”: “Yet marked I where the bolt of Cupid fell. It fell upon a little western flower; Before marked white; now with purple love’s wound – And maidens call it Love-in-idleness. Fetch me that flower, the herb I showed thee once. The juice of it on sleeping eyelids laid, Will make a man or woman madly dote Upon the next living creature that it sees.” Periwinkle - Has the ability to inspire love. One can rekindle their love by eating the leaves. Peony – Peonies are used as a charm to bring one dreams of faeries. Peony seeds were once used to protect children from faeries. A garland of the seeds were placed around the child’s neck to keep them safe from kidnappings. Poppies – Poppies are said to make you able to visit with the fae in your dreams. Petunia Phlox – This flower attracts elves who oversee and guard the plants growth. Pincushion Flower Poinsetta Primrose (especially the blue and red ones) - Has the power to reveal the invisible. Eating them will help you to see fairies. Hanging a spray of primroses on your door is said to be an invitation to the fae to enter your home, and to draw fairy blessings; but scattering primroses outside your door is said to keep faeries away by making a barrier that they can’t cross.Touching a Faery rock with the right number of primroses (5) can open the pathway to the Faery realm. Beware, however, the wrong number may open the door to a place you don't want to be. Also, if you have them growing under your care, do not let them die! The faeries will take your carelessness as a serious offense. Primroses make great container gardens and can be used in Faery Magick. Tie a pink ribbon around your container while chanting: "Sacred roses, hear my cry, For your protection, this I tie." Pussywillow Ragwort - Used as makeshift horses by the faerie. The magick words used to make the stems fly are, “Horse and Hattock.” Roses (they grow best when stolen) - Roses are very special to the Fae's sisters, the Angels. They give you a greater sense of love and they hold the secrets of time and its exploration. The petals can be used in Faery Magick, especially love spells. When performing the spell, sprinkle rose petals under your feet, and dance softly upon them, while asking the faeries for their blessing on your magick. White roses - help to develop spiritual purity. Red roses - Are good for love and fertility. Pink Roses - are for new life and a symbol of a new beginning. Yellow roses - these Fae help you to express the truth. When planting a baby rose bush chant: "I ask a faery from the wild to come and tend this wee rose child. A babe of air she thrives today, root her soul in the Goddess' good clay. Faeries make this twig your bower, by your magic shall time see her flower." Shrubby cinquefoil Snapdragon - Hold these flowers secretly in your hand and others will see you as gracious and fascinating. This plant and where it grows are watched over by tiny dragons. The faeries and spirits of this flower have connections to the energies of all dragons and, therefore, bring great protection for all from deceit and curses. Thistles – Thistles are also called Pixies’ Gloves, because the fae use their tiny flowers as such. Tulip – These faeries hold the knowledge of the hidden significance of events, people and things. Violet - The violet is the home of the Faery Queen and, therefore, sacred to all faeries. Picking the first violets of spring will bring one good luck, and a chance to ask the Fae to grant them a wish to be fulfilled within the year. White Lotus - Some believe that the white lotus flowers are nymphs in disguise. A woman can carry this flower to counter the effect of unwanted love spells. Zinnia Plants for a Night Garden The goal here is to plant a garden that will attract bats, owls and crickets. Use alba or white flowers because their iridescent colour will stand out in the darkness. Also be sure to include some noctiflora (flowers that bloom at night), especially those that have a strong sweet smell such as night blooming jasmine, tobacco plant, four o'clock flowers, dame's violet, sweet rocket, and sweet woodruff. Building a belfry will attract bats and having a compost heap will attract mice and, therefore, owls to feed on them. So far as I know crickets aren't really something one needs to try to attract, they're just pretty much everywhere...
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My Pleasure
Summary: Y/N is delivering a very important message and manages to save a very important Frenchman.
Pairing: Lafayette x reader, platonic!Hercules x reader
Warnings: maybe language? I don’t think there are any
Word count: 1,660 words
A/N: I didn’t know what the anon that requested this was after, so I just kind of made it up. I am complete Daveed Diggs (and Anthony Ramos) trash oops
“[Y/N]!”
“Hercules!” You hurried into your friend’s shop. “What have you got for me today?”
“Here’s the measurements,” Hercules said, handing you a neatly folded piece of parchment, which you placed in your dress pocket, settling it next to your small dagger, “and here’s the information.”
You took the sealed envelope and placed it in your left pocket, the paper seeming to weigh a hundred pounds as you remember the importance of what the letter contained. Hercules believed that this information could be the straw that breaks the camel’s back, the key to winning the war.
“Be safe, [Y/N],” the Irishman said, gathering you into a hug as he always did when you picked up information from him. “Take it to Alexander, he should already be at the drop spot.” You pulled away and smiled, nodding before opening the door to his shop and closing it behind you.
You had joined the Continental Army in 1778 and after a year and a half of successfully disguising yourself as a man, you were found out when you took a knife to the ribs. The nurses had taken your shirt and jacket off to find your breasts tightly bound and had told the General. Instead of being angry, General Washington had smiled at you and offered you a better opportunity to help the Revolution.
You became one of the first couriers, people who take information from the American spies to the army. At your suggestion, most of the couriers were women, who could easily fade into the background or even pretend to be men if the need arises. Women were seen as nothing more than objects and sometimes that was damn useful.
Hercules’ friend and slave Cato picked you up in the small carriage you used to go from town to town. He offered you a curt nod but offered no words, both of you knowing how important this information was. You had to get it to Hamilton, fast.
The carriage lurched when Cato pulled on the reigns. The two of you had been traveling for about thirty minutes before this unexpected stop, and you were only halfway to New York City. You peeked out your window when you heard voices. Your heart dropped. The Redcoats had found you.
You heard Cato arguing with a soldier about how his mistress did not want to be disturbed, and you knew he was trying to buy you time. You took the letter out of your pocket, looking at the singular star on the red wax seal. This was the entire fate of the United States of America. You couldn’t keep it in your pocket where it could be found. You looked around, trying to find a place to hide the information and finding none. You looked down. It would have to do.
“Miss, if you could step out of the carriage?” a British officer commanded, opening the door. You swallowed past the lump in your throat and nodded before standing and exiting the carriage, trying not to act suspicious.
“Is something wrong, officer?” you asked, feigning innocence. This wasn’t the first time you had been stopped by the Redcoats, but this time it was different.
“You were seen exiting a shop owned by one Hercules Mulligan, a suspected rebel spy,” the Tori accused. “This is not the first time you have been seen in the shop, and you always leave empty-handed. It has raised some suspicion.”
Your heart hammered in your chest as you reached in your pocket, your hand gripping the handle of your dagger as you debated whether or not to attack the man. You risk a glance behind you to see two other soldiers searching your carriage and you knew you had no choice but to give him what he wanted. Your hand released the dagger and instead grabbed the paper next to it.
You handed it to the officer.
“They’re measurements,” you provided, watching him unfold the paper and look at it blankly. “I deliver them to his friend in New York so they can deliver him the right amount of fabric for his clothes.”
“And this is all he gives you?” the man asked, suspicion lacing his voice.
“Why would he give me anything else?”
The Redcoat looked at you, sizing you up and down before muttering an “alright” and waving you along your way. You took the paper back from him and thanked every god that was out there that Hercules had thought of such a believable back story. You climbed back into the carriage and once another ten minutes had passed and you were sure no one was following you, you breathed a sigh of relief and pulled the envelope from your corset.
Twenty minutes later, the carriage came to a halt outside a familiar tavern, the wooden sign swinging from the side of the building. It was well into the early evening hours, and the tavern was just beginning to get busy. You looked up at the wooden sign and smirked. The large star was identical to the one sealing the envelope closed. You picked up your skirts and dismissed Cato, thanking him for everything before walking inside.
The smell hit you like a ton of bricks. It reeked of beer and sweat and something distinctly manly, and you wrinkled your nose. After a minute or two, you were used to both the smell and the noise, the drunken singing falling on deaf ears as you scoured the room for the familiar black ponytail.
“Alexander,” you say with a smirk, sitting in the chair next to him. You had met at Philip Schuyler’s winter ball and had been good friends since. You had missed his wedding as you were running information, but Hercules had excitedly told you every detail, including that he was the flower girl boy.
“[Y/N],” he replies, not looking up from his writing. “What brings you here?”
“Delivery from Herc,” you say, handing the envelope to him under the table.
“Any problems?”
“Just some Redcoats, nothing I couldn’t handle.”
“Where did you hide it?” You looked at Alexander, debating whether or not you should tell him.
“You don’t want to know,” was all you said.
“Mon ami!” an accented voice came from behind you. You turned to see the most beautiful man you had ever laid your eyes on. His dark, impossibly curly hair was pulled back into a high ponytail and his lips were pulled back into a dorky smile, his teeth shining white against his dark skin. “Oh, bonjour, mademoiselle,” the Frenchman said, picking up your hand and placing a kiss to the back of it before blinding you with his smile again. “My name is Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de Lafayette. And you are?”
“[Y/N] [Y/L/N].”
“May I get you a drink, Miss [Y/L/N]?” the Frenchman asked, and you nodded in response, thanking him.
“Okay,” you said, turning to Alex, “how do you remember all of that?”
“Just call him Lafayette,” Alexander said, not looking up from his writing. “I’ve been his friend for years and I still can’t remember his whole name. You’ll drive yourself insane if you try.”
Lafayette returned with your drink and you later found yourself leaning against the wall in the back of the tavern, flirting shamelessly with the Frenchman. Alexander had left some time earlier, rolling his eyes and excusing himself when you had first started flirting. Not long after, the two of you had abandoned the table in favor of the standing room in the back.
You were staring at the Frenchman, appreciating the beauty in front of you, when out of the corner or your eye, you saw a flash of red. A British soldier had just entered and sat at a table not far from you. You tried to shake off the feeling that something was wrong, but you couldn’t. It wasn’t until you saw the Tori reach into his jacket and a flash of silver catch the light that you knew something bad was about to happen. Thinking fast, you hoped you weren’t about to cross a line.
You stood on your toes and smashed your lips to Lafayette’s. A surprised sound left him before he melted into the kiss. You closed your eyes and fisted the lapels of his blue army uniform, using it to turn him around so he was leaning against the wall and you were leaning against him. You pressed yourself tight against Lafayette’s chest, trying to cover as much of him as you could. What you didn’t expect was his arms to come around your waist and pull you closer, his tongue to lick at your lip, or for you to enjoy the kiss so much. The thoughts of the Redcoat soon left your mind as Lafayette’s tongue invaded your mouth, tangling with yours in a fight for dominance. You moaned and moved your hands to his neck, making sure the Frenchman wasn’t going anywhere. Eventually, you let Lafayette take control of the kiss and god, did he know what he was doing. You couldn’t even keep a single thought in your head because every time he nipped at your lip or pulled your hair, you completely forgot what it was you were trying to think of.
Several minutes later, you parted from him, running a hand through your hair and looking over your shoulder to see the Redcoat long gone, a group of drunken men taking his place at the table.
“What was that?” Lafayette asked, slowly releasing his hold on your waist. You smiled at his kiss-swollen lips, imagining yours to be about the same.
“I just saved your life,” was all you said before placing a kiss on his cheek and stepping out of his embrace. You had to leave before you got too attached, but you had a feeling it was a little too late for that.
“Oh. Well, thank you, ma belle.” You smirked.
“My pleasure.”
#lafayette#lafayette x reader#hamilton#hamiltrash#hamilton x reader#marquis de lafayette#marquis de lafayette x reader#lafayette x you#hamiltime#reader insert#hamilton reader insert#hamilton fanfic#lafayette x reader fanfic#renae writes time travel
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