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#and the book you got from the second comic is called 'many kinds of families'
girlwiththegreenhat · 10 months
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can we PLEASE talk about the neopet advent calendar this year because these COMICS are MAKING me CRY 💖
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yaoyaobae · 1 year
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Its been awhile and i have another OC to share LOL gotta draw brain rots instead of keeping them in your head forever ☺️💖
Name: Aurore Dormir
School: Royal Sword Academy
Pastime: Escaping school to wander in the nearby forest, spending time alone
Hobbies: Sightseeing, Gardening, Fencing.
Family: Father, Mother , *Brother ( silver, please refer to the last note regarding my own theory)
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Aurore is a third year student at RSA, currently house warden of the sleeping beauty inspired dorm.
Aurore is also the next king of the Kingdom of Heroes, which naturally made him the center of attention in RSA.
Unlike Malleus whose powerful aura pushes people away from him, Aurore draws people towards him as they feel a sense of security around him.
He was only recently enrolled into school during his second year as his family brought him back from isolation for training, far away from the world’s eyes.
At first glance, Aurore may seem like the ideal dream prince: Kind, Polite, Courageous, Strong and Smart as he is consistent in securing top grades across his cohort. But deep down, he isn’t exactly the perfect prince most of his peers think he is.
Aurore is actually afraid of strangers and overwhelming attention ( he was raised in isolation so meeting humans are.. yeah) He is skilled at hiding his weakness but starts blanking out if there are too many people crowding around him.
As a result, he finds happiness in spending time alone in places where no one recognises him. He usually takes a short stroll around Sage Island’s various forests when his caretakers aren’t looking.
Strangely, Aurore mentions that his enjoyment from lonely strolls only existed because he would suddenly find himself in unknown places as a child…as if something or someone was calling him. But he became mentally stronger as he got older and knows how to guard himself during his impromptu walks.
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Bonus personal theory/lore:
Hi! So if you have been following me since i started creating twst ocs, you would be familiar with a certain comic i drew for an Aurora Oc ( its not exactly Aurore because i didn’t flesh him out) . But to sum up my theory for that comic:
There was once a powerful kingdom that clashed with briar valley, humans and fae did not get along as well back then.
Somewhere in between the war, both of the queen’s sons were cursed by a powerful magician and separated at birth. The queen initially wanted to send her two sons far away from the castle, but only managed to send one tucked away in a casket that drifted on a hidden river which led to a forest.
The war ended a few days later, with both fae and humans forming a truce. The queen fell into depression after realising that her second son probably did not make it and blamed herself for not keeping him a little longer had she known he would have been safe and alive in her arms.
Time heals wounds, and with some reassurance from the King the Queen got back up on her feet stronger for the sake of her people. Of course, sometimes the servants would catch a glimpse of the lonely Queen staring into the far forests wondering if she will ever see those small pair of Aurora coloured eyes again.
Because the Queen conceived her two sons alone away from the servants, only she and the King were aware of their other missing son. The three fairy advisors who had protected them from the very start told the Queen that if word of two cursed princes were to spread, the kingdom would be doomed to fall . The Queen had no choice but to accept this decision, and so they entrusted their only son to the three fairies in case the curse within him acts up. Hence Aurore was raised in isolation away from the world’s attention and only enrolled in his second year to prevent the curse from possibly manifesting.
In this story I created Silver is the missing prince in question who drifted far into the forest and eventually picked up by Lilia. His only proof of his royal status is a ring with an aurora coloured gem (Book 7 mention).
Regarding the curse: Silver was cursed to feel drowsy all the time while Aurore was cursed to follow a voice in his head which leads him to sleepwalk into dangerous places alone. Silver’s hair colour reminds me of the spindle/needle, so in a way he contains the sleeping curse. Like Aurora, Aurore is drawn into strange places by a voice and eventually to the spindle. Hence these two will always feel an unfamiliar sense of closeness to each other.
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“Yao why do you think Silver would have a brother? Much less the RSA guy inspired by Aurora? Doesn’t Silver already have Aurora’s traits?”
In general this is just my own fun theory to think about, but my reasons are because i think it would be interesting if Silver canonically had living family member(s) from a royal family( that ring kinda tells all). It would also put him in place wondering if he should return to his biological human family or stay with his Briar Valley family as he feels a stronger bond with them. With the way TWST tackles issues about fae/human like Sebek from example, i would love to see Silver’s resolve for his found family.
In my old comic, the Aurora OC actually dislikes Fae because of the war. He especially hates Lilia because he believed the war criminal took his own brother away and is promoting peace despite his past.
I feel Aurore would dislike Lilia but eventually learns to see the war from both sides as humans aren’t all that great either, he is still a naive prince with much to learn about the world. So while Silver does have Aurora’s trait, Aurore may have some of King Stefan’s from Maleficent/OG film. TWST tends to combine diff character traits anyways🌝👍
Anyways I adore these two so much and am looking forward to Silver’s past in the future updates! Thank you for reading about Aurore, till next time 💖
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gilverrwrites · 1 month
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Dickies Mom has got it goin’ on
Had to get this convoluted, angsty but fun idea out of my head. One day I might expand it into a better-written, fleshed-out fic, but for now please enjoy my yappy ramblings.
Wally West/BatMom!Reader
CWs: Wally being a not so great friend.
So like, imagine you're roughly late 20s/early 30s and happily married to the love of your life Bruce Wayne, there's an age gap sure, but ultimately that's not important. What matters is that you've made a life with him and his children. You're especially close with Dick, his eldest (late teens/early 20s) as you've known him since he was a teenybopper.
All is well, until one day in true comic book fashion; you die. You sacrifice yourself for a greater cause. It's all very tragic.
A decade later, it turns out fate isn't done with you. You've no idea how or why, but you wake in a coffin one day and have to claw yourself out of it. Cold, alone, and afraid, you make your way back to Wayne Manor. There you're greeted by your husband Bruce, but not really. This Bruce is greying. There are fine lines on his face you've never seen before and a ring on his finger that does not match yours.
You're not mad, it's been 10 years, and he was supposed to move on! But it doesn't feel like 10 years to you, it feels like only yesterday everything was perfect. It's devastating.
Queue Dick finding out. He just so happened to be hanging with his best pal Wally at the time, they both drop everything to rush over in a flash.
Your first night back on earth is messy. It's emotional, and stressful, a hell of a roller coaster. Ultimately, you spend most of it with Dick and Jay who surprise is also back from the dead. Dick is really your emotional soundboard, while Jay offers more practical advice about navigating a world that has gone on without you. He recommends you just take some time off, heal your wounds, catch-up with friends and family. You should learn from his mistakes.
Wally helps too. Primarily in a comedian relief way but also just as a sunny friendly face. His freckles and kind green eyes go a long way in making you feel at ease amongst a sea of familiar strangers.
He's adamant you've met before but you insist you'd never forget eyes that green and it stops his heart. You mean nothing by it, but it means a lot to him.
After you’ve parted ways, Dick makes a point of telling Wally not to flirt with you if he ever meets you again.
“Flirting? I wasn't flirting.”
“I was there.”
“But, come on man she's hot!”
“She’s my mom.”
“But she's our age now.”
“Wally, she's my mom!”
Eventually, after a lot of teasing, Wally surrenders but he deliberately makes no promises. He can't, not when he's been replaying the same 5-second interaction you'd had at Dicks 18th Birthday party many moons ago in his head over and over. He’ll try for his best friend, but it seems to him like this was meant to be.
Bruce may not be in love with you anymore, but he still loves you. So he helps how he can, offers you food and shelter, medical attention, a job, whatever you need to get yourself back on your feet.
You decide to take Jasons advice. Bruce still has a lot of your things; your clothes and your car. You ‘borrow’ gas money from your widowed husband and hit the road to seek out lost friends and family. Sad, but eager to get away from the city that no longer feels like home. You leave your rings with Alfred, a sign to Bruce that you expect nothing from him, that you'll leave him and his new wife be even though it breaks your heart.
The first stop is Dick, obviously, since you have to travel through Blüd. After joining him for a routine patrol, you spend the night on his couch, eating Thai food and talking about his life since you… passed. Nightwing as just finding his footing back then, but now he's a force to rival Batman.
You're two states over when you get a call from a number you don't recognise. Most of the people you know have changed their numbers since you last spoke, so don't hesitate to answer. You're surprised however by whose on the other end.
“Wally West? How did you get this number?”
“From Dick.”
He's not lying, he's just omitting the fact that Dick doesn't know Wally got your number from his phone bill. If he didn't want that info getting out he should probably put his bills somewhere other than a lockbox in a safe and quit being only person in the entire world to still actively use a landline.
His not-a-lie works however, the implication of Dick's approval helps you to let down those mother-appropriate conversation walls.
“Heard you're travelling cross country, any chance you plan on stopping in Keystone?”
“Why? Whats in Keystone?”
“Um, the Patriots?”
“Baseball?”
“And hotdogs! Al who serves em does not skimp on all the toppings, you've gotta try em.”
“You want me to detour in Keystone for baseball and hotdogs?”
“Well, there is something else.”
“And whats that?”
“Guess.”
“Unmmm… You?”
“Ding ding ding. She's smart and beautiful, a woman after my own heart.”
He's cute. So cute. He's no Bruce, but Bruce never made you laugh like this.
“Wally, this is a bad ideas. I was married until like a week ago.”
“And? I'm not askin’ you to walk down the aisle again, just one game and like 20 hotdogs. For me. You don't have to eat that many unless you want too.”
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thiswasinevitableid · 2 years
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31 Indruck?
And I'm back!
31. My New Year’s resolution last year was to either get over my crush on you or make a move and now we’re at a New Year’s Eve party together and it’s really coming down to the wire
Duck was supposed to get over this. 
See, when Duck was seven, the Newtons got some new neighbors. A family of mothpeople, two of whom were close to Duck’s age. His family was less alarmed by this turn of events than others on Maple Drive; his grandpa had been on the Silver Bridge the day a trio of them swooped down and saved as many humans as they could before the structure collapsed into the river. 
That being said, Duck was pretty fucking scared to see red eyes outside his bedroom window that night. Then the red eyes said, “would you like to borrow my comic book? It is about cowboys and dinosaurs” and Duck opened the pane. 
The mothman was a little taller than him, with muted grey and brown feathers and black antenna that twitch as his head swivels to take in the room. 
“Here” he produces four comic books, one in each hand, “I brought several issues.”
“Thanks” Duck takes the comic with a giant, red one on the cover, “why’d you come over?”
“It is polite to say hello to neighbors. Also, mother said I ought to make friends.” He indicates the comics, “is it working?”
Duck shrugs, “We can be friends.”
And in the way of children, that was that. Indrid, the mothman, would flap from his window to Duck’s to read comics or play games or just talk, would stay by Duck’s side at school, would comfort Duck on bad days, because he was his friend.��
Later, Duck would help Indrid with his biology homework, would leave silly messages in his window for Indrid to read, would sit on a squishy bed and help Indrid pull the feathers of his first molt, because they were friends. 
When their senior year of high school came, Duck would sneak in Indrid’s window for late night talks, would lay half-asleep on his now black and red chest, would pick out an apartment for them to share at Kepler Community College, because they were friends. 
And when Indrid told him during their second year of college that he had to leave to take instruction from one of his own kind in how to handle his budding powers of future sight, Duck threw him a kick-ass going away party and then cried in the empty apartment. Because Indrid was his friend. 
His friend who he’d wanted to kiss since sophomore year. His friend who knew so many of his hopes and dreams it was like part of his heart was off in the sky without him. 
His friend who is now, twelve years later, standing in the lobby of Amnesty Lodge as Duck’s friends take the New Year’s Eve decorations from the wooden walls. 
Indrid turns, red eyes as welcome as a nightlight in a dark bedroom, and murmurs, “Hello, Duck. I missed you.”
And in the span of those five words, Duck discovers that he never got over Indrid Cold and resolves to do something about that, one way or another. 
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“So…that’s it? I ain’t ever gonna see you again?” The hurt creeping like dusk across Duck’s face makes Indrid want to gather him in his arms and reassure him that no, not at all, nothing could keep him from the human forever.
“That is not a likely future. Seer training is…rigorous and lengthy. Five years is the usual amount it takes one to master the skills, and after that it is expected that you will use it in service of your planet for some time.”
“But Earth’s your planet.”
“Not in their eyes. Sylvain, the planet I call home, is still very suspicious of humans. I will write whenever I can, I swear, and I will make sure I do not leave you in the lurch” Indrid taps his claws together, “I, I already spoke with several friends about potentially taking over my rent for the rest of the year, so you will not struggle there.”
Duck gives the little “mm” that means he hears and appreciates what’s being said but still isn’t happy with it. 
“I do not want to go. But I cannot keep living like this, with my powers intensifying and no way to manage them.”
His friend moves closer, taking his lower hands, “And I don’t want you to be miserable. You gotta do what you gotta do, ‘Drid. Not everyone can stay in Kepler their whole life.”
Indrid opens his arms and Duck steps into the hug. He hasn’t clung to him like this since they were children and a beloved cat had passed away, his young voice insisting he’ll never be happy again. 
Warm breath ghosts his feathers as the man he loves most in the universe murmurs, “Gonna miss you, fluffball.”
“I missed you. Fluffball.” A much older Duck mumbles against his chest. 
Indrid gingerly splays his claws against a broad back, feeling the weight and muscle brought on by the years. It's as automatic as breathing to dip his head and rest his face in Duck’s hair. Still the same pine tar shampoo from their years in college; his human does tend to find what he likes and stick with it. 
“I suppose this answers the question of whether you received my post card.”
“Of course I did.” Duck steps from the hold, eyes a little watery, and Indrid chirrs in spite of himself. He was not done holding him. 
Green eyes look up at him, “You really in town to stay?”
“Indeed. I have an apartment and everything. Well, more like a mobile home but it serves the same purpose. Of course.” He smiles in a way that shows too many teeth, because Duck was never alarmed by them, “Kepler has changed enough I may need a guide to show me around.”
Duck adjusts his ranger hat, an unfairly charming gesture, “Think I know a guy.”
—-------------------------------------------------------
For the first quarter of the year, Duck’s crush stays in a holding pattern, like a falcon coasting on thermals. It’s just dull enough that it doesn’t interfere with his and Indrid’s catching up or his ability to keep a neutral face when Indrid mentions past boyfriends. 
In April, it divebombs him. 
They’re driving back from the nearest Costco in Duck’s Jeep when Indrid perks up.
“You’ll want to slow down, there is a turtle of some kind in the road.”
Duck taps the brakes as a bumpy, slow-moving lump comes into view, then pulls his car onto the shoulder, “I oughta get out and move him the rest of the way, so no one hits him.”
“Allow me. I can better avoid an unexpected car.” Indrid steps out into the middle of the lane. In the spring sunshine, Duck watches the flecks of red dancing in the inky black of his wings. 
“Wait, ‘Drid, be careful, that’s a snapping turtle!” Duck steps out of the car but his friend waves at him to stay put. 
“So I see. The good news is that in the futures where it bites me it cannot damage my chitin.” His head swivels back towards Duck, “I should put him the direction he was heading, yes?”
“Yep!” He gives a thumbs up and Indrid hurries to the other side of the road, setting the reptile safely on the soil. 
As the mothman turns to cross back, he pauses, “Do not be alarmed by the deer.”
Duck looks around for a herd, but none emerge from trees.
“Hmmm, it seems they changed their mi-” Indrid’s words cut off into a startled trill as five deer burst from the greenery behind him and sproing across the road. Black and red feathers poof out for a beat, long enough for Duck to cackle at the sight and be rocketed back in time. 
“Lookit, see, this one’s a wood frog.” Duck catches the small amphibian in his hands, holding him where Indrid can see. They’re down by the creek, Duck’s mom insisting they use the break in the rain to stretch their legs (and give her some peace and quiet). Indrid has shoved his feet in some modified rain boots and is holding an umbrella while Duck contents himself with his raincoat and yellow waders. 
“It is very cute.” Indrid leans in for a better look and the frog stills.
“You wanna hold it?”
“I do not think it wants me to. I probably scare it.”
Duck frowns at his hands; Indrid has been saying things like that more often these days. 
The frog blinks. Then it leaps, landing on the edge of Indrid’s right wing and causing his friend to trill in surprise. 
“Animals remain one of the most unpredictable things on earth.” Indrid stretches his wings once before climbing into the car, “reacting primarily on instinct means they change actions on a scale too quick for me to correct for.”
“Makes sense. Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone you got spooked by Bambi.”
“Do not be ridiculous. I am far too dignified for such things.” Indrid folds all his hands in his lap, then quickly leans sideways and flicks his tongue across Ducks cheek, making them both laugh. 
It would be the most natural thing in the world to lean over and kiss him. It’s all he wants to do for the rest of the drive home, a portion of his heart insisting that every moment not spent caressing and kissing Indrid is another moment wasted. 
His logic, overwhelmed with two dozen reasons why that is a bad idea, white-knuckles the wheel until they reach the trailer. When Indrid undoes his seat belt, he looks up and Duck could swear that he hesitates, lingers a half-second longer than makes sense before saying goodbye.
He argues with himself all the way home. If Indrid wanted him for his boyfriend, he would have told him already. Even when they were apart, he could have used one of the letters that made it through the interplanetary mail system to confess his love. He had to have known nothing he could have said would have pushed Duck away from him. He could see the future for fucks sake!
But Indrid was, and is, cautious, a life of seeing every disastrous scenario unfold in his mind inclining him towards pessimism. He didn’t know when, or even if, they’d see each other again. And if it’s so damn easy to tell your best friend you love them, why hasn’t Duck done it already?
Duck cracks his neck. Fine. He’ll either tell him or find some way to get over his crush by the end of the year. That’s a goddamn promise. It’s not like he’ll lack chances to push himself one way or the other. 
Like the Fourth of July picnic, where Indrid lets enthusiastic children put sparkly face paint on his feathers and firework stickers on his arms. And the apartment after where Indrid peels off the glittery shapes while Duck combs his feathers. He loves doing it, had felt like an explorer uncovering an ancient treasure the first time Indrid showed him how and shyly asked him to try. 
Or like the afternoon they spend together on a secluded stretch of beach by the Greenbank river, Indrid sunning himself while Duck wades in the flowing water, certain red eyes are watching him intently whenever he turns his back. 
Or like the day they buy bulk candy and Halloween decorations to jazz up Duck’s place for Trick or Treaters. Indrid playfully holds all four bags of M&Ms above his head, tempting Duck to tackle him to the couch and kiss him breathless in order to get them back. 
It’s like that day after day, month after indecisive month, until everyone in Duck’s life–even people who know nothing of their past– is wondering why he hasn’t asked Indrid out yet. 
If he could answer that question, he wouldn’t be standing in his kitchen on New Years Fucking Eve wondering what the fuck he’s going to do. 
Indrid steps from the bathroom, adjusting the rows of thin, red and silver chains draped over his wings and back. He looks like a myth, a wondrous creature fluttering through Duck’s life, and why would someone like that want to date Duck?
(Because he’s your friend, because he stayed home with you when you were too sick to go to the concert you scraped and saved for together, because he might be as afraid of that “no” as you are).
“Right, I will call in the order and then we can go pick it up. I did promise Barclay I’d get extra salsa verde, so please do not let me forge. I am just glad he’s letting someone else cook for once” Indrid grabs a take-out menu from the fridge. When he lifts the magnet, a second, faded sheet of paper falls to the floor. 
“Oops, let me just put that back.” Indrid places the image on the fridge and then freezes. Duck does the same, pink creeping up from under his collar. 
“Why, Duck Newton, did you keep that all these years?” Indrid runs a clawtip over his own, faded handwriting. 
“Yeah. I, uh, I didn’t even realize it was there.”
“It seems there are several.” Indrid nudges the other menus and photos to reveal more letters on the same stationary.
Duck joins him at the door, “I kept every single thing you sent.  For awhile they lived on the wall, or on the corkboard by my desk but…after awhile it got too hard. Lookin’ at ‘em. But I couldn’t put ‘em away so I kept ‘em on the fridge in our old place and… and that was kinda where they lived. My clock goes by the front door, the coffee pot goes on the counter, ‘Drid’s letters go on the fridge, y’know?”
“I do. The one time you managed to send one to me I read it until it faded beyond recognition. Even then I can remember it. Dear Indrid, it’s getting cold here again. I’ve gotten more snow dumped on my head while out doing my rounds than I care to say. You’d hate it; it’d be like the time I got a little too into that snowball fight and then I had to bundle you in every blanket in the house while mom made cocoa. There’s a bobcat family near one of the trails, I keep trying to get good pictures of them. If I do, maybe I can send it to you. Can photos survive the trip? It took forever to get someone to sell me this special paper. I even asked your dad but you can imagine how that went. Since I’m running out of space, I’ll wrap it up. I miss you so goddamn much. Your friend, Duck.”
Indrid’s hands fall to his sides and he turns to face Duck. His antenna are drooping, and there’s a sad set to his eyes, “I tried so many things to bring you across space to me, even for a few days. Bribery, logic, insistence that I would be a better seer if I could have an assistant, anything that would have let me see your smile.” Hesitant claws cup his face, “Maybe that was silly. You had a life here, a happy one, and you did not need me interfering.”
The frozen core of his indecision snaps and he raises on his toes, kissing Indrid on the soft, short fuzz at the corner of his mouth.
“If you’d called, I woulda come. Yeah, I like my life, and I’m happy here. But my life since you came back? It don’t even compare. It’s like goin’ from city sky to one where you can see every goddamn star.”
Indrid poofs up “oh. I, there, there were so few futures where you confessed this I was certain they would not come to pass, that I was overestimating their chances out of sheer force of want” His lower hands are flexing and curling anxiously and Duck guides one onto each of his hips. 
“Probably because it took me so fuckin’ long to make my move.”
“That does explain all those flashes of futures of us kissing over this year.” Indrid grins down at him, the heat in the expression making him shiver, “rude little human, making me wait so long.”
Duck kisses him again, longer and harder, “Don’t know about you, but I’m done waiting.”
“Agreed.” His mothman scoops him up, “let us call in dinner. And then” he drags his tongue up Duck’s throat, “let us call Barclay and tell him we will be late to the festivities. How does that sound?”
“Fuckin’ perfect. Fluffball.”
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awhitehead17 · 2 years
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Whumptober 2022: Day 2 - Nowhere to run
Prompt: Caged
Summary: Duke knew what he has getting into was crazy, however he didn't know exactly how insane it was actually going to be. Reality hits him when he’s captured by the cops and stuck with someone who’s ego is bigger than their actual height. 
A/N: This is based off a few scenes from the comic book ‘Robin War’ and serves kind of as a missing scene which I thought would be fun to write.
Enjoy! :D
Duke winces when the inevitable protests and exclamations occur.
“He what?”
“Are you shitting me right now?”
Duke raises his hands up in a placating gesture, “Hey, I’m only telling you what he told me! Don’t shoot the messenger.”
“You’re lying.”
Duke turns around to face the person he’s been ever so fortunate to be paired with while stuck in the metal contraptions as they are. He shakes his head. “I’m not. Why would I lie about something like this? Do you think I’m here voluntarily? The last thing I want to be is held captive by the cops.”
Out of all the people here, he had to be put with the little snot nosed runt didn’t he? If he hadn’t already disliked the cops before this, he certainly does now.
“He wouldn’t do that to us. Grayson wouldn’t sell us out to the cops.”
Duke rolls his eyes and settles down on the cold metal floor, resting his back up against the bars keeping them prisoner. “Sorry to rain on your hero worship but yeah, he did.”
There’s a beat of silence and it’s like Duke could feel the weight of the room on his shoulders. There's the occasional whisper from the other cages around them, others who have been caught in this crusade, teenagers, kids, wanting to do right and help out but have got caught in something much bigger than any of them could have ever imagined.
“Duke, tell us again what happened. What did he say to you.” A voice to his left gets his attention and he looks over his shoulder at the cage next to him containing the other two professional vigilantes. One of them with a red helmet and the other with the fancy looking wings on his back.
Sighing Duke turns his body so he could see the other cage and the runt he’s stuck with at the same time. He doesn’t trust turning his back on the kid for a second. He looks at the others through the bars of the cages they’re all trapped and reiterates his story.
“Once the cops found us, he told me they knew we were coming. Apparently he had a transmitter and was broadcasting straight to them right to that point. He claimed he wanted to train as many kids as he could and then control their arrests to make sure they’re all safe. Then he wanted to put his best men with them to make sure they stay safe. He didn’t tell you guys because he knew you wouldn’t agree. Apparently you wouldn’t understand. It’s his fault and his responsibility.”
Duke pauses shaking his head at the craziness of it all. He can’t seriously believe the situation he’s found himself in.
“As he jumps off the roof, he claims that he takes care of his family. And then the cops got me, he got away, and now we’re all confined to these cages several feet above the ground.”
He sends the other Robins a fake smile as he finishes the story.
There’s another pause as they obviously take in what their so-called leader has done to them. He betrayed them all, it doesn’t matter that he claims it’s for their safety, he’s still manipulated them and now they’re locked up because of him.
“I now know who I’m gonna hit in the face with a crowbar when we get out of this.” The comment comes from the one with the helmet and Duke sends him a look, apparently he wasn’t the only one confused. His companion also pulls a face as he looks at him.
“What?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
Duke blinks and lets it go. Clearly there’s an inside joke or something there. He doesn’t want to know. His attention is soon drawn away to the runt he’s stuck with as the kid starts mumbling underneath his breath.
“He gave us up just like these pretenders…”
Duke turns to him, snarling “I heard that!” before turning to look down below at the floor where there are cops lingering around, pacing up and down. Their behaviour is suspicious and it’s making feel more uneasy than usual.
“Something is off though,” he comments aloud, “these cops, they’re waiting for something.”
When the kid begins mumbling to himself again next to him, Duke turns and eyes him suspiciously. He’s up to something and Duke has no idea what it is. Even the other Robins from the other cage knows something is going on because they instantly question him about it.
“You’ll soon be thanking me,” the brat cockily declares and that’s when Duke sees something in his hand.
“No!” He yells at the kid but it’s pointless because he’s already thrown whatever it is out of the cage and down below. There’s only a second or two pause before a loud hissing noise could be heard. Duke attempts to look down to find out what it is however because of the angle of the cages it’s difficult to see, it must have come from something directly underneath them. However he could hear an increase in voices and more footsteps, more cops must now be in the room with them.
A conversation is had underneath them and suddenly the cage containing the two pro-robins is moving, a loud humming could be heard and their cage begins to get lowered. The one with the helmet hums, “huh, the runt really did give us our chance.”
Duke has no idea what is happening but what he is a hundred percent certain of is that the next few hours are going to be totally insane. Once they get out of these cages it’s going to be hell on earth and he’s smack bang in the middle of it.
A/N: Image below is the cover art for the comic!
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natehackett · 2 years
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joe keery he/him/cis man “ watch out , NATHAN 'NATE' HACKETT has crash-landed into roswell !! they look thirty years old and celebrate their birthday on march fifteenth. they are from reno, nevada, reside in the GREYSTONE COMPLEX and are currently working as an attendant at the lunar laundromat. one thing you should know about them is back in reno, his parents’ garage has his collection of comics and fan memorabilia – combined, they’re worth over $500,000. ” ( guppy, mst, she/her, 21 )
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PINTEREST // SPOTIFY HEY, EVERYONE ! my name is guppy (or leila, but you can call me either) and i am twenty-one. i am about to study abroad in australia, but for the current time being i am in mst (mountain standard timezone). i will be playing nate hackett, who is a lover of all things comic books and punk/grunge music. keep reading for a bit more about him and his past!
–* THE PAST / PRESENT
nate is the second youngest of five children (two older brothers – brian & james, one older sister – heather, and a younger sister – beth) and was born/raised in reno, nevada. his dad has retired but owned his own appliance repair business. nate's mother was an emergency room nurse, but she has also retired. his parents now both live in a retirement community in north carolina so they can visit the beaches in the summer season. his eldest sibling inherited the hackett home back in reno, where nate's comic and fan memorabilia collection is stored.
since there were five kids in the hackett house, it was always kind of a whirlwind. there were always birthdays happening, friends tromping through the house, holidays with extended family, and fights over room/toy/clothes sharing. the one thing that nate had to himself was his love of all things geeky.
none of his other siblings shared his interest in various comic books, card/tabletop games, and movies. he was free to explore those interests all on his own.
every week, nate would use his lunch money to buy new issues of comics being serialized. he would draw, at first, by tracing the panels in comics that he found the most intriguing. he branched off to drawing his own heroes and villains, writing storylines for them, and stapling together stacks of printer paper he had turning them into "comics."
the same store where he bought his comics in reno also held various tabletop gaming nights where nate met many friends who shared his interests.
nate got his first job as a sophomore in high school at the comic shop, it was where he spent most of his time anyways so he might as well get paid to be there.
when it came time to decide on after high school plans, nate's dad was urging him to take on the family trade of appliance repair. already, nate's two eldest siblings were working on the family business. one had gone to technical school to become an electrician and the other had done training in general appliance repair while apprenticing with nate's dad.
his third eldest sibling had disappointed nate's mom and dad by leaving nevada and going out of state to study communications. they wanted to be a journalist, not work for the family's appliance repair business.
nate was about to disappoint them just as much, he applied not only for technical schools but out-of-state colleges as well. the university of new mexico gave him a hefty scholarship, and the opportunity to study visual art, but to appease his parents he chose instead to go to central new mexico community college to study heating, ventilating, air conditioning, and refrigeration (HVACR).
he loved new mexico so much, though, that he made the decision not to return home after completing his associates. his parents were upset at his decision, but were still proud of the fact that he had chosen to pursue the family's trade with appliance repair. he made the move to roswell after living in albuquerque from the time he was 18 to the time he was 24. while in albuquerque he was working as an appliance repairman but he honestly hated having to constantly zip around from house to house everyday just to do his job. he made the decision that he wanted to work somewhere stable.
when he saw the lunar laundromat in roswell was hiring, he thought it was the perfect fit. he had the skills to fix the washers and dryers when they went down, but he was also could sit at the counter and read comic books during the downtime he had. he could also work on drawing his own comic.
currently his paycheck goes to four things: rent/bills, groceries, comics, and art supplies.
he still does some freelance repair work for extra cash on the side. but, you'll mainly find him at either the lunar landromat, forbidden planet, or at home.
personality wise: nate is real geeky, he appreciates a good pun and rarely takes anything seriously. he will gladly ramble on and on about anything and everything that is related to his favorite subjects (art, comics, magic: the gathering, pokemon cards, the star wars franchise, the warner bros monsterverse, and other weird old movies)
his favorite color is a red-orange, he frequently wears his red-orange windbreaker and a las vegas 51s baseball cap. he prefers dc to marvel, especially because his favorite series is swamp thing. he is most proud of the fact he owns swamp thing #1 with a 9.6 certified guaranty company (cgc) rating. this means it is in near mint condition and alone is worth approx. $1k. he also has a personalized autograph from len wein (the original writer of the series).
he frequently drives to comic cons in the western states (primarily CO, NM, AZ, NV, and CA). for his 18th birthday, his parents bought him VIP passes for san diego comic con which was like his dream come true.
–* POSSIBLE CONNECTIONS
since i know it can be difficult to find some connections off the bat here are some possible suggestions to get ideas flowing. i am also a fan of just starting threads and seeing where muse's chemistry goes.
D&D PARTY MEMBERS / we already know what a huge nerd nate is, but if your muse is also a nerd i am sure nate would love some party members for a d&d group in roswell. rather than an actual dining table, nate's apartment has a board game table. he just eats on his couch instead and uses the board game table for get togethers with the party. this doesn't have to be exclusive to D&D, but could extend to MTG and/or pokemon
FREQUENT FREELANCE CLIENT / is your muse prone to accidents? constantly blaming mercury in retrograde for their fridge breaking or their AC unit leaking? nate is happy to help, for a small price or a gift card to the forbidden planet so he can buy the latest issue of that one comic he's reading.
LAUNDROMAT PALS / since it takes at least forty-five minutes to get a small load of laundry washed and dried, nate is happy to entertain and talk to customers as they wait for their clothes to finish up. if you're real nice to him, he may even give you a detergent pod for free so you don't have to risk a couple of quarters at the janky dispenser.
EMERGENCY CONTACT / since nate's family is all out of state, it could be useful to have a ride-or-die who he can call at any time for anything. he definitely has broken a couple of fingers or slipped while jamming out too hard to the chats while in the shower. who you gonna call? nate's emergency contact!
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detectivereads · 1 year
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Space Battle Lunchtime vol 1 & 2
by Natalie Riess
5/5
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This review is for fan entertainment, I'm not being paid.
I love stories that have to do with cooking. I came across this comic series in my local comic shop and this stuck out like a sore thumb. It was gorgeous.
This is a story that takes place on a reality TV show…IN SPACE!!!!!! (Sorry I thought it was appropriate)
Our lovely main character is named Peony, she works at her local bakery making delicious pastries. A frog creature, named Zonda, came into the bakery one day to order coffee, and takes an interest in Peony’s desserts that she was putting on display, only to be pulled away by a phone call, a contestant has gone missing and show time is soon. Thinking on her feet, Zonda mentions Peony and tells her producer that she will see if Peony will be the new chef. Of course, Peony says yes.
Now the location of the TV show is not anywhere near Peony, no its in…. SPACE!!! (Sorry Hehe) Needless to say, Peony is shocked, but time is short, and Zonda needs to get Peony ready. Now during the short time before the show starts up Peony meets several contestants and a friendly cameraman.
The first round starts up and each contestant is given an ingredient to make a dish from (pretty standard challenge) however drama issue between some of the space chefs, Peony has her own problems of trying to figure out her ingredient is, she thinks its citrus based and tries to figure out the oven.
End of the first round and Peony has people looking at her in a more serious way now. However, that soon passes, and Zonda invites both Peony and Aris (the cameraman) to dinner. Peony sees on the TV a rival show where it’s more blood thirsty than their family friendly show, the mysterious Neptunia warns Peony to watch her back during the contest.
The next day, a new challenge approaches the contestants on Spacebattle; they have to make something that has no flavor and its base form is unappealing but it’s very healthy, into something the judges want to eat. (Health food challenge!!)
Before the judging happens, Neptunia and Peony bring their dishes up to the stand, where Peony accidentally bumps into Neptunia almost costing one of Neptunia’s portions of her dish, but Peony comes in the last second and rescues it.
The next challenge is that the contestants work in teams of two to make a dish that includes both chef styles of cooking, the winning team goes on to the final round, while the losers are sent home. Neptunia and Peony are paired together, and they get off to a rocky start till Peony stands up to Neptunia and brings her down to level. Neptunia and Peony win, and Peony invites Neptunia out on a date.
The second half of the story has Peony being kidnapped and shipped of to the rival show, where there is a high chance where she wasn’t going to out alive. The worst part is Peony was getting ready for the date when she got kidnapped!!!!!
Now I don’t want to spoil the ending of this arc because I was upset (the good kind) about how it ended, but everyone got what deserved in the end. Neptunia and Peony are girlfriends now! (*squeal*)
This story had so many interesting characters and the theme of the story was amazing, I kept finding myself in need of a snack when looking at some of the illustrations of food that was in this book.
If you are looking for a quirky food base romance, I recommend this comic to you.
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sugar-petals · 3 years
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can you give us more thoughts about domestic yoongles? the taemin's one (wich I love) just made me miss the cat boy so much ;o;
i have a phd in househusband yoongi so let me fire out some ideas for ya.
myg at home headcanon
🐱 word count. 1.9k | fluff, slice of life, slight nsfw mentions, x reader, bullet points
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The doorbell sound is a recording of Yoongi imitating a doorbell. He’s such a meme. Ceci n'est pas une pipe.
Seemingly, he teaches himself a new recipe every week. To perfection. Yoongi is very particular about sticking to the recipe and wielding his kitchen tools in the right way. He collects knives, olive oil, and still hates cutting onions.
He separates sleep time, work time, and couple time as the holy trinity. For each, he switches his mood.
Blushes easily no matter for how long you’ve been together.
Establishes his own radio show where he DJs at one point.
Yoongi keeps an extreme track on the garbage schedule. He knows exactly what is due when. Separating the trash is a must. That includes sorting out fake friends trying to get between your relationship. Your social circle as a couple is extremely deliberate.
Yoongi deems himself a terrible host for guests. Unless Hoseok is there to drag him out, it's true he rather stays in the kitchen or at the barbecue preparing the menu courses rather than making small talk. He leaves the hospitality bits to you, however you want to go about it.
What he lacks in conversing with guests, he makes up in bed, God is absolutely fair.
He sings and hums pretty often and has his own vernacular of extraterrestrial uwu noises. It's an alphabet that you have to yet decipher but it's incredibly cute.
Self-made paintings everywhere around his house. 
Yoongi hasn't gone clubbing since grammar school. The most he does is going to a restaurant at lunch with very close friends. And always in a work context. His private life is so secluded from everything else and paparazzi just don't spot him anywhere, Dispatch thinks he must live abroad.
Very well, he does consider his big ole house a separate country. It's a living organism with a studio, gym, trophy room, small-size basketball court, and vastly equipped kitchen. A home theater as well, he likes American movies (like Inception) and Korean action genres, and you can stream whatever you fancy in there whenever you like. 
Yes, he has underwear with cute little bears on.
There's even a little pond in the backyard. Yoongi, Pisces he is, likes fishes after all. Sometimes he sits at the edge of the 'Little Ole Min Lake (LOML)' and stares into the water for literal hours with his chin parked on his palm.
His fridge is so high-tech and futuristic, even Yoongi is rendered clueless by its AI sometimes. The washing machine, too.
Yoongi watches RuPaul’s drag race. What did you expect? He finds it so humorous.
Owns lord knows how many comic collections.
Favorite holiday destination: New York.
Christmas is basically 50% you unveiling new music equipment to him in the garage and Yoongi almost fainting at the sexiness of it. The other 50% is spent holding hands and orgasm after orgasm until the new year since you loose track of time.
Goes on long rants why he’d marry you again every weekend.
Making you presents is his specialty. Always accompanied with a hand-written note. He writes a lot of things by hand for you in general. Texting, basically never. Always on paper.
No sex without a blanket and socks on. Yoongi gets cold very very easily and just doesn’t like showing skin. You buy him a heated blanket for his birthday, he even uses it in his studio chair.
Chronically addicted to making out.
Matching black outfits and glasses.
Laughs at even your worst jokes or phrases you didn’t expect you even uttered.
Yoongi owns the phoniest, most secretive-looking black car ever and nobody knows about it. Even he forgets he owns it, in fact he genuinely acts like it just doesn’t exist. Hilarious. And that guy has a level 1 Korean driver's license. Which allows him to drive trailers and busses and fucking trucks, and construction machines, let that sink in.
It's really a genius curse. Yoongi being put to the test will always deliver but he won't choose to execute his full skillset if he doesn't have to. Well, pragmatic. He's not as phony as he thinks he is, which is even more hilarious.
He uses that behemoth of a car so scarcely because he'd rather have things delivered to his doorstep and he's stingy with gas. Also, he doesn't like traffic and driving because of the traumatic shoulder accident and his tendency to space out. Translation: You drive that thing... that monster... it really is an impressive, fast, and scary machine. 
If someone devious ever even remotely manages to invade his privacy and get past the doubly-installed security system, he has enough money to deal with it no matter what.
If it concerns your privacy, he's a red belt. And owns Jin's number if a taekwondo master is required. Jimin's if it needs someone with kendo skills.
If Yoongi needs someone to go on a complete rampage, Jungkook lives just down the block. He can sprint to Yoongi's bunker I mean mansion within 45 seconds. 30 if it's very urgent. 20 if the reward is an instant ramen splurge with Yoongi's black card.
He has a sexy, glamorous sword collection hanging on the living room wall anyways, so. Who the hell is dumb enough to mess with him and his expensive lawyer in the first place.
But just in case, who knows... Yoongi settles matters shruggingly, anonymously, and with cash and he's too exhausted for violence, but don't underestimate his deter-min-ation and network for emergencies. Also, he is Agust D after all.
He will bonk a naughty burglar or kidnapper across the head with a wooden cooking spoon or take him down by throwing a basketball if the situation requires it. Damn, his reflexes are so fast, a feral cat in motion. So, lean back and sip on your drink of choice. Things are cared for.
If Yoongi is the one being kidnapped or a highly skilled stalker invades the property at night when he's fast asleep (nothing can wake this man during certain hours, strong REM right here): Don't forget that honeyboy is a Dodgers fan. There are signed baseball bats everywhere in this damn house.
In that sense, your parents visiting you here for the first time thought you were an undercover thug couple. Not to worry mom and dad, you both just like sports very much okay.
Yoongi walks around in all black clothes and the rooms are all seemingly dark. Even if you live together, you don't know his skin care routine. It's clear to you he's some sort of vampire.
Since Yoongi always forgets to remove his makeup, you made it a habit to wipe it down when he's about to pass out. He won't lie, he enjoys that kind of affection.
Holly is your resident child. You're essentially a family.
He insists to tackle this by himself, Yoongi sees his therapist monthly. Not shifting responsibility is something he's stubborn about and he pours his emotions into writing. You will do conversation about deeper stuff, but he says it's mostly up to him and his own mind. He dislikes burdening you or opening up too much and it's something to respect rather than force him about. If he wants to share a thought, he will. It doesn’t mean he can’t trust you or sucks at communicating (we know that he’s direct). Yoongi simply can’t put that much pain in such few words nor should you alleviate it for him.
Calls from the manager faze Yoongi as much as Jimin is bothered by gravity. If he’s busy kissing your body slow mo, who the hell dares to disturb his worship. 
This man had so many let-downs and interpersonal catastrophes in his life, he's super discerning with people. Because he rolls that way, during their first meeting Yoongi uses his psychology certificate on your friends. You see him squint at them, he listens very closely. After they pass the vibe check aka meow radar, he befriends them, too.
Yoongi doodles Grammy trophies everywhere to manifest them.
Yoongi shaves his legs.
All the sex toys he’s ever bought are black. Gotta vibe in style.
He spends ridiculous amounts of time in the studio but he's yours for the remainder of the night, breakfast, and he makes a lavish lunch and dinner.
Um, consider his head parked between your legs. The Hongkong line was not a joke.
Doesn’t mind you squishing his cheeks whenever and for how long you like. 
Every other weekend he gets flowers, vouchers, and gifts — not because of fans, they don’t know where his house is, but because he donates so much.
Namjoon often drops by and cleanses the area with his crystals.
Yoongi is a photography major so you can ask him to take professional, ceiling-high black and white shots of you.
Feeding each other food lovingly. Man, this guy got lips.
He set up a library just for you, in the exact historical aesthetic you like the most. Send him the link to any book you want, it's basically in the online shopping cart already. As I said, he wants to make you presents like every week.
Sometimes he sits on the other end studying English videos and vocab while you read. And yes, he's already 95% fluent but pretends being merely intermediate. He knows technical terms even native speakers have never heard of.
He collects pajamas and earrings.
Swears on the phone.
Namjoon being the horniest member is a cover-up story. Yoongi masturbates almost unreasonable amounts of times, by himself and in your arms when going to bed. Not gonna lie, it’s a sight to see his hands at work. He’s almost equally obsessed with fingering you once you ask him.
Yoongi was the one asking you to move in and almost had a nervous meltdown before meeting up with you to tell you just that. 
He’s the little spoon and of course a sleeping burrito to hold tight.
Finds you equally attractive in any state or styling. Yoongi practices what he preaches, he always reacts the same and says the same. 
Jams out to outrageous beats Namjoon sends him by dancing in the studio. You walk in on him every time. Was embarrassed at first, now you dance along.
Has bought you a life-sized Yoongi pillow and customized you a giant Shooky to hug when he’s not at home over night.
Owned a wine cellar until he quit drinking. Turned it into a piano room instead.
Only you know Yoongi has a serpent and dagger tattoo.
Scrubs the bathroom religiously.
The house smells like restaurant food and his extravagant perfumes half of the time.
Sometimes he has to remind himself he’s married to you and not his coffee machine. He shall be forgiven. You can’t complain that he doesn’t love you enough, nor is he ever not adorable when drinking his latte.
Never wears short sleeves. It can be scorching and he’ll wear a jacket. 
Tell him and the cap stays on during sex.
He grows his hair out and puts it in a low bun. The bangs remain.
Yoongi has installed the most fire-proof building in the entire city it seems. That he wanted to be a firefighter when he was young definitely shows. Figures the house has to be protected from heat: His blasting studio music and Yoongi himself are just way too sizzling.
Still melts into a puddle when you kiss his nose.
Couple sunrise watching. 
© submissive-bangtan 2017-2021. all rights reserved. do not repost or translate. all depictions fictional.
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fific7 · 3 years
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Evil Twins - Part 1
Billy Russo & Aleksander Morozova x Reader
Summary: When two worlds which have already collided then collide with yours - that’s an explosive situation.
A/N: This does not follow canon, it’s mainly a mix of fluff and angst with quite a lot of lemon zest 🍋 My Fantasy Punisher/Shadow and Bone crossover AU.
Warnings: 18+ NSFW due to sexual content including oral and unprotected* sex between consenting adults. Some drinking & swearing.
*Irl, please don’t go wild in the country without protection.
(My photo edit)
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New York City
Billy Russo awoke with a start, sitting bolt upright in bed and grabbing for his Glock. What the hell? Thunder was rumbling loudly overhead and he sighed, putting the gun back under his pillow and laying his head back down. It was probably the bright flash of the lightning followed by the beginning of the thunderclap that had awakened him.
He was just closing his eyes again when he spotted something, only vaguely visible in the dim light from outside, in the corner of his room. It was…. swirling?
Grabbing his gun again, he sat up and pointed the Glock at the corner. It was getting bigger. “You’ve got two seconds to show yourself before I blow your fucking head off,” he announced, calmly.
He squinted a bit to get a better look but it didn’t make much difference. What the fuck was it?! Smoke? He decided he had no choice and leant over, switching on the wall-mounted bedside light.
The… smoke cloud?… was still increasing, becoming bigger and blacker with every second. Then he saw the vaguest silhouette of a tall figure within it, moving towards him. He leapt out of bed, on the far side of it so it was between him and whatever the fuck this was.
»»————————————-———- ⚜ ———————————-————-««
Aleksander Morozova - or General Kirigan, the Darkling, the Black Heretic, the Starless Saint, whichever of his many names he decided to call himself at any given point in time - could see a tall figure brandishing some kind of strange gun at him as he began to emerge from the swirling shadows.
Following certain unfortunate incidents - including a huge and furious argument with his darling mother - he’d decided it would be politic to get out of Ravka for a while, much as he didn’t really want to. But this wasn’t where he should’ve ended up. What was this place?
He emerged completely from the shadows and immediately felt something bounce off his kefta. He heard a ‘ding’ and looked down at the wooden floor at his feet. A bullet.
Looking quickly back up, he saw that the man opposite him was glaring at him, eyes wide and unbelieving, gun still pointing at him. He also realised that looking at this man was like looking in a mirror.
»»————————————-———- ⚜ ———————————-————-««
Billy was dumbfounded. He’d just shot the fucker! And the bullet had bounced off him. Fuck. He threw the gun down onto the bed and slid his hand under his other pillow, pulling out his Ka-Bar. No way he’d get past that.
He took a moment to have a good look at the dude opposite him.
Dressed in riding boots and some kinda long black tunic thing, with a black fur-collared full-length cape over it. What a freak! Was he a goth or something? But then he realised something even freakier…. this guy looked exactly like him.
»»————————————-———- ⚜ ———————————-————-««
The two of them were still contemplating each other, when finally Billy spoke. “Who are you? And what are you?”
Aleksander laughed. “Usually it’s me asking those questions.” Billy huffed, “You’re in my fuckin’ apartment, so just answer them!” He saw the guy draw himself up, and he said, “I am Aleksander Morozova, also known as General Kirigan, commander of the Second Army of the Grisha.”
“Means fuck all to me,” grunted Billy. “One name not enough for you? And why do you look like me? Are you some kinda shapeshifter or somethin’?”
“I have many names because I am centuries old. And I don’t know what a… shapeshifter?…is,” said the other, “…but I am the Shadow Summoner. And who are you? Where is this?” he waved a hand round at the apartment.
Billy scoffed, “Centuries old?!! Oh fuck off. You’re the same age as me by the looks of ya! I’m Billy Russo, ex-US Marine Lieutenant and now CEO of Anvil. That’s a security company, mainly staffed by ex-military vets. And this….” he also waved his hand around, “…is my penthouse apartment in New York City.”
Aleksander shook his head, “I have never heard of that place.”
Billy eye-rolled, “How can you not have heard of New York?!” he asked, incredulously. “And what the fuck is a Shadow Summoner?”
“It’s becoming obvious we are from two different worlds. I seem to have been diverted from my intended course, I don’t know why,” shrugged Aleksander. “Well maybe it’s time you took off to wherever it is you were headed for in the first place,” said Billy.
“It seems that I have been brought here for some specific reason,” replied Aleksander, “and it also seems I cannot leave for the moment, I have already tried.” He waved both hands around, firstly extending and then curling up his fingers, watching them closely as he did but it was clear that nothing at all was happening. “You see? Nothing. It is worrying to me. My shadows are no longer obeying my commands at present.”
Billy sighed and perched on the edge of his bed, “Great! Just fuckin’ great! This is just…! So when can you leave?” The other man spread out his arms, “I have no idea.”
»»————————————-———- ⚜ ———————————-————-««
Devon, UK
Way across the Atlantic, you were already hard at work in your little bookstore in Appledore, Devon. You had a snug apartment above the store and had filled it with lots of your favourite things. It was a cute little coastal town and you loved living there. The community was small and friendly especially in the winter months, only increasing in summer with all the tourists who came to stay. As long as you made a decent living during the holiday season - which you normally did - then winter was a much calmer, chilled time of year.
You added a final book to the new display in the centre of your store and stepped back to take in how it was looking. Yeah, not bad if you did say so yourself. It was comprised of a fantasy trilogy for young adults about some ancient guy who could summon up shadows, and was a bit of a villain from what you could tell from the story synopsis on the book covers.
Not your cup of tea, to be honest. Generally speaking, all types of action stories were more your thing - something with a bit of ‘va-va-voom’. In fact, you were looking forward to tonight when you’d decided you were going to sit down with a nice tub of ice cream and rewatch one of your favourite series. The one with a relentless avenging ex-Marine whose family had been killed and his psycho ex-Marines buddy. Who happened to be rather hot to your mind.
You sighed a little, heading back behind the counter. That was the only thing about Appledore. It was a lovely place, but there was a distinct lack of hot guys.
»»————————————-———- ⚜ ———————————-————-««
New York City
Billy and Aleksander were sitting on separate sofas in Billy’s living area, eyeing each other warily. Aleksander had been trying to explain to Billy all about his world, the Grisha, the Fold, volcras, Ravka, the Sun Summoner, sand skiffs - as much as he could.
It had blown Billy’s mind, to be honest. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. In turn, he’d explained all about his military career and the shitshow which had eventually developed once he’d come back to New York. Aleksander looked as equally confused as Billy.
Billy sighed, “I mean, what the hell are you gonna do? You don’t belong here. I need to go to work in a couple of hours. I’m not leaving you here so I’d need to take you to Anvil with me, and you sure as hell can’t go out looking like that.”
Aleksander looked down at his kefta which he’d unbuttoned. His cape was draped over the back of the sofa. “What is wrong with the way I look?” he huffed. “S’pose I could always say you were going to a Comic Con,” muttered Billy. “A what?” “A Comic Con. it’s where fans of fantasy comics go to have fun. They dress up as their favourite characters sometimes. I could always say it was cosplay.”
Aleksander shook his head, “I still don’t understand what you’re talking about. Are you saying I’d look out of place in my uniform? All the Grisha wear these,” he pointed at his kefta. “Not what we wear here,” said Billy, “…and I still don’t get why you look so much like me.”
“I have no idea!” said Aleksander, through gritted teeth, “I told you that already!” “Alright, alright! Calm down.” “I AM CALM!!!” roared the other man.
»»————————————-———- ⚜ ———————————-————-««
New York City
Slightly later that morning, Billy was showered, suited and booted and ready for work. He’d persuaded his uninvited visitor to put on a borrowed leather jacket of Billy’s over his kefta as Aleksander refused to take it off. He’d also made him put on a pair of black trainers, which he’d done very reluctantly. These two items had instantly transformed the freaky-looking guy into someone at least a little more acceptable to your average New Yorker.
Aleksander was wriggling around in the jacket, “It’s not very comfortable.” Billy heaved yet another large sigh - he felt like this was all he’d been doing this morning - “Look, just wear it! You’ll get used to it.” He noticed the other guy sniffing at the collar of the jacket, then his eyes lifted to Billy’s, “You wear perfume?!” “Men’s cologne,” snapped Billy, “or aftershave, as it’s also known because - guess what! - you use it after you’ve shaved!”
His fingers stroking his chin, Aleksander nodded, “Okay, that I understand. We do not use this perfume in Ravka.” “Cologne!” yelled Billy. “Fine, cologne then. Why don’t you like it when I call it perfume? That’s what it is, after all.” “Women wear perfume. Men wear cologne. Okay? Now c’mon, I’m gonna be late.”
Billy strode over to his front door and tried to open it. The handle wouldn’t budge. He shook it, rattled it, pulled the door handle back and forward, exerting more and more strength but nothing worked. He stood back from the door. “It won’t open,” he said, rather unnecessarily. He looked at Aleksander, “Is this you? Or something to do with you?” “No!” he protested, “I have nothing to do with this.”
A somewhat raspy female voice spoke from behind them, “No, but I do.”
The two men swung round, both gaping as they saw that there were what could only be described as rippling waves distorting the whole interior of Billy’s flat. The light had also diminished quite drastically and then they both saw a woman’s head and shoulders start to become defined and then fully visible in amongst the ripples. She seemed to float there at head height but she obviously wasn’t physically present.
“Mother!” exclaimed Aleksander.
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Devon, UK
You snuggled down amongst the soft cushions on your sofa, tub of ice cream and spoon in hand and scrolled to the series you were looking for. It was quite gory in places but you loved it - except for the bit right at the end where the hot dude got killed. That made you sad although you couldn’t deny he definitely had psychopathic tendencies.
As you were looking for the one you wanted to watch, another series caught your eye in the ‘Suggested for You’ section. Hey, it must be based on that trilogy of books you had in the store right now. Maybe you’d give it a try after you’d finished your current one.
»»————————————-———- ⚜ ———————————-————-««
New York City
“Mother?” echoed Billy, “….what’s going on here?!”
The woman’s head swivelled towards him then back to Aleksander. “My two boys, together again. How sweet.”
“What!?” said the two men in tandem. She gave a bitter laugh, “How I managed to produce two such problematic children, I’ll never know.” “What are you talking about, Baghra?” ground out Aleksander. Billy was just standing there, dumbfounded and looking between the two of them when suddenly her glare focussed in on him.
“Maxim.” Billy returned her stare, “I’m Billy!” he corrected her. She shook her head, “You will forever be Maxim to me. And as I’m your mother, do not argue with me. Now…. no doubt Aleksander has been making a great fuss about how he’s many centuries old, has he?” “He did mention it,” said Billy, begrudgingly. She nodded, “I thought he might have. Listen to me, both of you. You are twins, so obviously you were born within minutes of each other. To me.” The two men exchanged glances, before looking back at her. “It became obvious to me that Aleksander - from a relatively early age - was going to cause himself and everyone around him nothing but trouble and strife, so I took a radical step.” “What did you do, Baghra?” questioned Aleksander.
“If you’d have patience, I’m trying to tell you!” she snapped, before continuing, “I got one of the few Heartrenders in existence at that time to take Maxim out of Ravka to a secret location. There, he placed him in long-term suspended animation. When you…” she pointed an accusatory finger at Aleksander, “….started all that nonsense with the Sun Summoner and hunting for the stag, I travelled with another Heartrender to where Maxim was, and brought him out of his enforced hibernation. I had to protect him as there was no guarantee you’d survive, Aleksander.” She stared at his scowling face and carried on speaking.
“He had no memories remaining of his past life and so I took him into the forest, there is a portal there which only I know of. There used to be more knew about it but I am the only one left now. Other universes can be reached through it. And I decided to send Maxim to another one. This one. It was only three months ago in Ravkan time, but in this universe more than thirty years have passed.”
“Wait… what?!” Billy was pissed. “You… you just threw me into some portal and walked away? Not knowing where I would end up?” “I had to save one of my sons!” she spat out, “…the other one had lost his mind and was on a collision course with disaster!” Billy put his head in his hands, before looking up again and raging at her, “I was abandoned for a second time by the woman I thought was my mother in this universe! She was a drug user, a total mess! I was placed in an orphanage… it was terrible!” He saw a remorseful look pass over her face for a split second, “I am sorry, Maxim! But I had no choice. Then I had to step in again when he…” pointing again at Aleksander, “….was nearly killed by volcras. I managed to get him to the portal before he fully regained consciousness. He thinks it was his idea to leave Ravka after we had an argument, but I managed to plant that idea in his mind before I pushed him into the portal.”
Billy and Aleksander both snorted in unison, then glanced at each other again. Billy looked back at her, “You’re sorry? That doesn’t quite cover it. I went to war! And now I’m in a very bad situation due to things which went down in Afghanistan during that war.” Aleksander chipped in, “And how dare you make a decision like sending me to another universe without consulting me first?”
The sigh Baghra gave echoed round the apartment. “You are a pair of ungrateful whelps! And now it sounds like I have to get you of trouble too!” She pointed at Billy this time. “I firstly had to find some very old documents about it, but I managed to find out how to enter the limbo section of the portal, which this is, because I wished to speak to both of you before I sent you on your next journey.” She lifted her hands and swirled them around in a kind of ritualistic fashion, “Be on your way to the next universe!” she chanted, and suddenly the rippling got even more pronounced.
Billy and Aleksander began feeling overwhelmingly dizzy, feeling as if they were falling but in fact realised they seemed to be rushing through time and space.
»»————————————-———- ⚜ ———————————-————-««
Devon, UK
It was Saturday tomorrow so because you could sleep in a bit as you opened later, you finished the first series (but not the second one - it always upset you) of the one you’d originally been watching, and had then moved on to the one based on the trilogy.
You peered more closely at your TV screen - yeah! you were right, the hot bad guy looked so similar to the hot bad dude in the other series they could be twins! Was it the same actor? You’d need to check on the credits but it must be, surely.
No reflection on the series you were watching, but having finished your ice cream you dozed off during episode 6.
You woke up - you had no idea how much later - and as you sat up slightly, realised that you were feeling very strange. Standing up from the sofa, you were so dizzy that you collapsed back down onto it. You tried not to panic, but you’d no clue as to why you felt so unwell all of a sudden.
Then you noticed that your apartment appeared to be rippling. Rippling??!! What the…. The rippling waves began to die down a little and you were suddenly aware of two looming figures standing over you. Their outlines and features slowly became more defined, more solid, and eventually you realised you were looking up at both the hot bad dudes from the TV.
Of course you were.
Okay, your reeling mind said to you, maybe the celestial Powers That Be had been listening when you were complaining about the lack of hot guys in your town.
They were both looking down at you, clear interest in their eyes. Maybe because you were wearing silky shorts with matching tank T. Your sleepwear didn’t leave too much to the imagination.
So you stared at them, and they stared right back at you, although again you were acutely aware of two sets of very dark eyes roaming all over your body.
You wondered if someone had spiked your ice cream.
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cblgblog · 3 years
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I know I’m probably beating a dead horse at this point but I feel like it isn’t talked about enough how the accord do not and will never affect Tony the same way they’ll affect those like Steve & Wanda. Tony can always just blow up all of his suits again & go back to a fully normal life if he wants to. He doesn’t have to wear a tracking bracelet, or submit dna samples, or fear getting shoved into a straight jacket or electroshock collar if he gets arrested. I’ll I just don’t think it’s addressed enough how blatantly privileged Tony & other normal humans like rhodey & nat would be under the accords compared to their other teammates. No wonder they were so supportive of them from the beginning.
Ah, but what is fandom for if not the beating of dead horses?
I agree with you. I generally prefer the film over the comic event (granted I haven’t read it in a few years now), but I do like that the Civil War comic had more time to discuss those civil liberties issues. Like, the damn thing, as with most comics events, is annoyingly massive. Not if you just read the core 6 books of the main CW storyline, but the tie-ins, oh my God the tie-ins. Comic events and their damn tie-ins…
For the sake of telling a fuller story though, I do like that the comics had so damn much. There was much more room for side content, for lesser characters who aren’t in the MCU, or weren’t, at the time. There’s a fuller picture of why various people are taking the sides they do. Some of those reasons make more sense than others, but yeah.
There’s a bit from the comics that I’ve posted before where Tony and Peter (mid 20’s, his own hero Peter, not Frankenstein, Tonky Jesus fanboy Peter) are arguing about the Registration Act—as it’s called in the comics—and talking about the civil liberties being violated. Being a 2006 book, it’s got a very post 9/ll, Guantanamo Bay theme going. The lack of trial, of legal representation, the prison that’s even worse than The Raft. There are several scenes like this as I recall, and yeah, the film is sorely missing them in places. You kind of see it with Team Cap in The Raft, but it’s very much a quick thing in the larger narrative of the film, and that’s annoying.
I’m not exactly advocating for this, because the film version with it’s smaller focus works a lot better in many respects, but I do sometimes think of the alternate reality where Disney Plus existed sooner, and Civil War was turned into a series instead of a film. Say six episodes, match the number of installments in the main comic event, eight eps if you wanted to push it. Then we could get something that delved deeper into what these documents actually say, what the public’s reaction to them is, how they would affect people besides our core Avengers group.
Show some kid like Peter who has abilities but doesn’t want to go out and fight bad guys, just wants to live a normal life. Show someone who can’t reveal their Enhanced nature to friends or family because it wouldn’t be safe for that person. Show the every day or every day-ish people (ala the Netflix shows) and where they stand on this. Wanda talks about people being scared of her after the Lagos incident and you kind of see that, but not really. Actually show that. Show the fears that people have of these Enhanced people, the legit and less legit ones, and show the other side too, the regular, every day people who still look at this and say hey, no, hang on, this is wrong.
Again, not necessarily saying I’d want this over the film, but if the Mouse overlords ever wanted to revisit that storyline and expand on it, I wouldn’t complain.
And yeah, people have talked about this too, but it kind of sucks the way the film handled everyone and their reasons for siding how they did. Steve is all about choice and keeping the government from abusing its citizens ala Hydra, Tony’s got his whole, we need to be kept in check thing, but very few of our other players land where they land because of the actual Accords. Nat doesn’t want her Avengers family to fall apart, and wants to maintain some control over the situation rather than none. Rhodey’s the career military man who (generally) follows orders and hey, if this is what most people want, we don’t get to just decide eh, no thanks. Panther doesn’t care about any of this, dude just picks the team that’s going after Bucky. Peter doesn’t know what the fuck he is actually fighting for, Tony didn’t tell him, Scott and Clint are there because Cap asked, and also, presumably, because of the danger the Accords would put their family in, but that second point is never explicitly stated.
And Sam…I feel like we really got fucking robbed with Sam, especially in light of what we’ve learned about his character in Falcon and WS. The film doesn’t much go into his reasoning, beyond the fact he believes in Cap, he’s Cap’s ride or die, etc. But given the history he has in Falcon and WS, again, we were robbed. Dude is all about making sure minorities aren’t oppressed, aren’t punished for existing. Dude is very much aware of the double-standards in this country. I know that stuff was written in later, but my God did we miss out on a Sam monologue about this in CW. Sam, who’s like Nat and Tony in that he can theoretically hang up the wings and be free of the Accords, but still takes the other side. Would’ve been hella interesting to see Sam and Rhodey’s little argument they have about it be an actual scene, an actual debate. Sam who knows of the US government and it’s unjust laws and abuse of power, knows it long before he hears of Isiah Bradley. Who has those nephews that will have to grow up in a post-Accords world. It just would’ve been super interesting to see Rhodey and Sam, both Black men who joined the military, one who left, one who didn’t, have an actual discussion on why they feel what they feel. Even discounting the finer details of the Sam stuff, the stuff that wasn’t written yet, it would’ve been cool.
And, of course it would’ve been awesome to see Tony and the non-powered on Team Iron Man (but mostly Tony) get called out on their privilege with this issue, but that of course couldn’t happen, because Tony has plot immunity. Let fire and lightning pour forth and destroy all who dare to question the wisdom of Tonky Jesus, praise be to Tonky and all he has given us.
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luminnara · 3 years
Text
Goddamn, Shit-Sucking Vampires | Lost Boys x OC  CH 1
Summary: Vera is an unusually vicious bloodsucker who's never stuck in one place for very long...until a mysterious feeling pulls her right to the murder capital of the world: Santa Carla, California. Now, she needs to figure out why exactly she's there, where she fits in amongst the boardwalk's nighttime denizens, and how to cope with her own personal vampire-related problems. Poly Lost Boys/OC, starts just before the movie
Also posted on AO3
My requests are open!
Chapter one | Chapter two
Warnings: Blood, gore, smut, all that good stuff
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Vera had been to a lot of cities, some of them twice, some of them three times, some even more, but none of them were quite as unique as Santa Carla. The boardwalk was crawling with lost souls, kids with nowhere else to go, and she was one of them; no family to call her own, no real friends, barely any possessions…Vera was a wanderer, a lone soul, a lost girl. She drifted from town to town, hanging around for a day or two if nothing interesting happened before moving on...and honestly, nothing very interesting ever happened. 
Sometimes she took the bus, if she had the money from odd jobs or pick pocketing her meals, but for the most part, she was left to her own devices. She traveled on foot when she had to, avoiding major highways unless she was feeling up to a fight. During the day, she took refuge under bridges if she was broke, or motel rooms if she had a little cash. If she felt particularly frisky, sometimes she even managed to seduce locals into helping out, but for the most part, she only had herself as company, traveling by night for no reason other than an insatiable wanderlust and nobody else to spend her time with.
Nothing had ever held her in one place. She had started traveling a long time ago, when she realized she had no reason to stay in her hometown. Plus...people started to grow a little bit suspicious when they noticed too many bodies cropping up. The world was changing, and for someone like her, it was best to stay on the move.
After that, it became a habit, and she got used to wandering and never having a place to call home. Did it ever bother her? Sometimes, when she was resting, it did. She could stop and look at the stars, with some kind of foreign aching in her chest, but it was rare that she thought about it. It had started up years ago, and she had forced herself to get used to it. She had never found any cure, and while she lingered around the east coast, it had finally dulled to a strange, quiet pain. A constant throb in her chest, next to her heart, some kind of strange tightness that she was happy to forget whenever she could. It was becoming more frequent, though, as she neared California, and she chalked it up to the fact that she had been alone and hungry for far too long.
She would have to do something about that soon. She hated feeling hungry.
Vera hopped off the bus when it stopped in Santa Carla, a coastal town that boasted a crowded boardwalk and just the kind of nightlife she needed. From the road, she could see the bright lights of a Ferris wheel and even a roller coaster, and she couldn’t help but smile. She had always liked fairs and carnivals. They were fun and exciting, and good places to pickpocket. Plus, the chaos made it easier for her to go unnoticed.
At the bus stop, she was greeted with boards and telephone poles covered in missing persons ads, and it was an oddly comforting sight. She would fit right in.
“Murder capital of the world, huh?” she said to herself, slinging her backpack over her shoulder. She had seen the graffiti on the back of a big WELCOME TO SANTA CARLA sign on the way in, and the flyers only added to the town’s reputation.
Yeah, this place was worth checking out.
The pier was bright, neon signs and carnival rides lighting up the night. Kids and adults alike were enjoying their summer, stuffing themselves with treats or screaming their way around the roller coaster. It all looked fun, she had to admit, and maybe once she had a chance to grab some cash she could hang around and enjoy herself. She could use a break from running constantly, and she was finding that the boardwalk was already making her happy. 
As she walked through the crowds, Vera spotted every kind of person, from middle aged parents toting along a family of four to dirty vagrant children to punks to a couple of weird kids lurking around the comic book store. There were pizza places, cotton candy carts, all sorts of dine in restaurants and bars...Santa Carla seemed like it had everything, but mostly, it was a good place for someone like her to spend some time. 
She sat herself down on a railing, trying to ignore the hunger pains she was feeling as she people watched. Beyond the homeless kids and the weirdos, the boardwalk was full of partygoers, and it looked like summer vacation was in full swing. There were a million smells in the air—cigarettes, weed, funnel cakes—but none of them really caught her attention. She let out a sigh, leaning her chin on her hand. She hated being indecisive about dinner. 
“Ugh, Surf Nazis,” a woman whispered to her friend as they ran by. 
“Gross,” the other wrinkled her nose.
Vera looked past them to the men that were shouting about their asses as they left and she snorted. 
“What’s wrong, girls?” One of them yelled. 
“Come back, we’ll show you a good time!” Another cackled, tossing an empty beer can over his shoulder. 
Vera rolled her eyes. Disgusting, pathetic creatures, all standing around a trash can as they smoked. They smelled awful, she realized with a wrinkle of her nose, and it wasn’t just from their smoke. They were nasty, leering at girls and laughing loudly with each other when the women they were bothering scampered away. 
Well, they weren’t her first choice, but at least she had found a meal.
She hopped off the fence and sauntered in their direction for a moment before turning, giving them just enough time to notice her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw them perk up, and before long, all four of them were following her through the crowd, shouting profanities as she made her way down to the pier. 
“Hey baby, where you goin’?” one yelled, jogging to keep up with her pace. 
Vera looked over her shoulder. “Down under the boardwalk...unless you’re chicken.”
She heard a chorus of hoots and whistles and grinned to herself. Men were so easy. 
“I call first dibs!”
“I wanna piece of that ass!” Another yelled.
They always did. Vera was a short girl, only around five feet tall, and stocky. She carried her weight in her legs, giving her thick thighs and a round butt that could never quite stay covered by the denim shorts she loved to wear so much. 
Boys liked the way she looked. They liked how she seemed so easy to grab, so soft, so touchable. As the Surf Nazis followed her down the rickety stairs to a secluded spot under the boardwalk, their hands were already moving, unbuttoning pants and reaching for Vera as if they were entitled to her. She smiled sweetly as she backed into the shadows, cooing for them to follow, grinning sickly when they obeyed. They always did, like lambs to the slaughter, never clever enough to recognize her predatory gaze and dangerous movements until it was too late. 
Sometimes, if they were lucky, they could catch a glimpse of her bra or panties before it was over, but tonight, Vera had little patience for the dirty fingers that tried to pull her shirt off and her shorts down. Their faces leered down at her, even in the darkness, grunting as they palmed themselves through their pants.
She gave them a second to enjoy it before her lips twisted into a sick grin and she reached for them, nails like claws and teeth like fangs. The air was suddenly filled with the sound of their screams, but the waves crashing against the sand drowned the grisly noises out. As she tore into them, she laughed, loving the way they were so terrified now that they had completely lost any sense of power over her.
 Boys always liked the way she looked, until she was covered in their friends’ blood.
-o-
David was having a boring night. 
His boys were under control for the time being, lounging on their bikes next to him. Paul and Marko were laughing loudly, occasionally punching each other just for the hell of it, and Laddie was reading a comic as he clung to Dwayne. Star had decided to stay home for the night, and nobody was complaining about that; at the thought of her, David growled to himself, grimacing at the reminder of the troublesome bitch. Max had wanted a daughter and a good mother for Laddie, and what had they ended up with? A mopey, whiny little cunt who refused to kill and feed like everyone else.
Feed...damn, he could go for a snack. He could practically taste blood in the air as he thought about grabbing a bite, fangs threatening to lengthen. He hadn’t even thought he was that hungry, but now that he was thinking about it, it was bugging him, and when David got the urge to feed, there were very few things that could stop him. The hunger would sometimes gnaw at him the way it did a newborn, and even Max was occasionally put off by it. It was something he expected from a younger vampire, like Marko, maybe, but David? His appetite could be insatiable, truly monstrous in a way that most others’ weren’t. 
The boys picked up on his hunger and he heard a few growls of agreement before he nodded for Dwayne to take Laddie back to the cave. The kid was never allowed to go with them when they hunted, and Dwayne was capable enough to grab something for himself if he didn’t catch up with them. Ever since Laddie had gotten his pesky little hands on their bloody wine bottle, they had been stuck with him, and if Dwayne hadn’t turned out to be so good with the kid, David would’ve been irritated beyond belief. 
It all worked out, though, and Laddie fit in well with the rest of the group. David just had to keep reminding himself to be patient. 
“Anybody catch your eye?” Paul asked as his brother took off down the beach with their youngest member.
“Absolutely fucking no one.” David sneered.
The tall blonde straightened up to sniff the air. “Get a whiff of that, though…”
David paused, mimicking Paul. He was right. There was a metallic scent on the breeze, the sweet smell of fresh blood. It made him thirsty, and as he led Paul and Marko down the boardwalk, it only grew stronger.
“Shit,” Marko mumbled as they started down the stairs to the beach. Once they had broken free of the crowd, the scent had hit them like a train, and even David was having trouble controlling himself.
“Careful,” he warned, voice coming out with a ragged, heavy breath. 
Murders happened in Santa Carla all the time, and not only because of the Lost Boys. It was a rough place, full of drugs and vagrants, and the violence only helped them blend in. Someone had probably gotten themselves in trouble under the boardwalk, and at this point David was just hoping that the killer was still around to sate his hunger. They never fed from corpses, so stumbling across them never yielded any good results unless they were in the mood to rip them apart for shits and giggles.
David was not in the mood.
He led Paul and Marko off the stairs and through the sand, hurrying now as the blood filled his senses. It was so fresh, and there was so much of it...this wasn’t normal, even for the murder capital of the world. What kind of sadistic human would cut someone up enough to spill so much blood? What the fuck was going on under his boardwalk? Sure, it was something he would do, but other than his boys, who could possibly be that brutal?
It was in the shadows of the pier that he finally got the answers to all of his questions. 
Just like the blood had, her scent hit him like a freight train. He could tell Paul and Marko were just as confused by the way they stopped and hissed, fangs already out as they looked down at the bodies littering the sand. It was a gorey scene, throats and stomachs ripped open, Surf Nazis gutted with their pants down. 
And in the middle of it all, she had the audacity to glance up at David, and then completely disregard him as she turned back to her final victim. She wasn’t worried in the slightest about the three males, and that pissed David off a little. When he would have snarled a warning at her insolence, he found himself distracted instead, head tilted and lips parted as he drank in her scent and checked her out.
She was wearing shorts that barely covered her bloody legs, ratty combat boots on her feet and an equally ratty denim vest over a ripped up black shirt. Her ebony hair was cut into some sort of shaggy mullet,  falling around her shoulders. It was long and wavy and glossy, but tousled and messy, no doubt thanks to feeding. 
He could only stare in shock at the black-haired girl that was feasting on a Surf Nazi. He couldn’t decide if he was angry at someone else hunting on his turf or happy to find a real female vampire, one that wasn’t stupid and whiny like Star, but the one thing he knew for sure as he took a step towards her was that he was just the tiniest bit turned on.
Paul and Marko could both smell the tiniest hint of their leader’s arousal, and it excited them. They weren’t used to supernatural girls, and the thought of getting a turn with her was enough to make the air heavy with the scent of lust as they followed David. 
Paul let out a low whistle behind him. “Shit, first time I wouldn’t mind bein’ a Surfer. I’d take a little of that sugar right now, know what I’m sayin?”
The vampiress lifted her head from her victim and smiled, drunk on blood and high off the hunt. “I don’t usually share meals, but I’ll give you the rest of this one if it gives me a free pass back outta here.”
Paul tensed to take her up on the offer, but David stopped him. “Free pass?”
The girl sat back from the still-whimpering Surf Nazi, blood running down her chin. “Figure you wouldn’t want me in your territory. Sorry. Didn’t realize anybody else was here, else I’d have been moving on already.”
David smirked. “No need, sweetheart.”
She furrowed her brow. 
“It’s feeding time, boys. Grab a snack.” David grinned, allowing Paul and Marko to surge forward and rip into the Surf Nazi. He watched with a twinge of annoyance as Paul turned from his meal and pressed his bloody lips to the girl’s, but that annoyance turned into surprise when she kissed back, albeit lazily. 
She smiled as her lips moved against his, a hand moving to tangle in his wild hair. Fire tore through Paul and he growled, pushing her down until her back hit the sand and her chest touched his as her breaths turned into frenzied pants. 
Hands ran down her sides, hard nails digging into her skin as Paul nipped at her lower lip. With a whine, she arched up against him, tugging at his hair until he snarled.
“Paul,” David growled a warning. 
Paul sat back up with an irritated grumble, licking his lips before plunging his fangs into the Surf Nazi and leaving Vera alone.
David had to admit, he had never met a female vampire that wasn’t stuck in limbo like Star. They seemed rare, or at least they were around California, but Max had always told him that girls of their kind were a special breed. He was already feeling a tug toward her, some kind of something pulling at his chest whenever she moved, and before he knew what he was doing, he was crouching down to suck up the last few drops of blood while his boys turned their attention to the killer.
“What’s your name, beautiful?” Marko asked, playing with a strand of her hair. 
“Vera,” she answered with the sweetest voice either of them had ever heard, practically a purr. 
Paul sighed, leaning in again. He was head over heels already. “What brings you here to our little corner of the world, Miss Vera?”
She blinked, and they were fucking mesmerized by those lashes and those hazel eyes. “Just passing through, boys. Don’t wanna step on any toes.”
Paul groaned. He wanted her to stay. She smelled amazing, and when she had returned the kiss he hadn’t even realized he was giving her, he felt jolts of electricity shoot through every part of his body. 
He wanted more.
“Damn, babe, you’re breakin’ my heart,” he said, holding her face so that he could lick blood off her chin.
“No fair,” Marko nudged his brother. “I want a taste…”
David looked up from the drained corpse, listening as his boys slurred with love drunk voices. Max had warned him about females, about those with foreign sires. They could trap you in a web of lust, keep you dumb and happy there for as long as they wanted, rob you blind and kill your entire family...but somehow, he got the feeling that Vera wasn’t even trying to fuck with them. There was no misty, foggy sensation that would signify magic, no eye contact, no focus. As he rose to his feet, he realized he was walking towards her of his own accord, the only spell being that strange, unspoken one that kept pulling him to her.
He had an inkling of what it could be, but he didn’t dare get his hopes up.
“Got a place to stay, darling?” He asked as he shoved his boys out of the way and knelt before Vera. 
She leaned toward him, a sweet smile on those bloody lips that told him she was confident enough in her ability to handle them all. She was calm, completely in control of herself, even when faced with three healthy male vampires. Her eyes were half-lidded, long lashes fluttering whenever she blinked. 
When her tongue slipped out to lick blood off her lips, David’s eyes widened at the sight of something he had never seen before. It was split in two, each side moving of its own accord easily. Paul let out an eager noise, Marko shoving him with his shoulder to try to get a better look. Vera just laughed at their fascination, pulling her tongue back into her mouth and smiling. 
David could feel her breath on his cheek as she took in his scent and he couldn’t help the shiver that went up his spine. He wanted to touch her, to kiss her better than Paul had, to fuck her and hear his name on her lips. He wanted to show her how strong he was, to impress her, to prove himself for some reason. He would kill a hundred surfers if he had to, if it would grant him her favor. He would sit out in the sun and burn himself if it meant he could be hers. 
He had never felt this way about anyone, and it was pissing him off.
Vera laughed to herself. She could smell his desire, and she knew that it was because of her. Just like those Surf Nazis, these vampires wanted her, but at least she liked this little pack. What’s more, that aching in her chest had stopped when they showed up, and she had a feeling she knew why. 
It was a little bit terrifying, though, and she wasn’t about to stop and think about it. 
“What are you suggesting?” She asked, brushing her fingers along his cheek, a smear of blood following. 
“Stay with us,” he breathed, blue eyes locked with hers. 
“Darling, I don’t even know your name,” she quipped, never shifting her gaze. 
“David,” he said with a slight growl as he felt himself getting lost in her eyes. 
“David,” she repeated, voice soft and breathy. Her hand moved to cup his cheek and he leaned into it, nose twitching as he smelled the fresh blood in her wrist. It was sweet, sweeter than any blood he had ever encountered before, and all he wanted to do was sink his fangs into her flesh and get a taste.
Vera heard a sigh and finally took her eyes off David. The other two were watching, just off to the side, staring hungrily at their leader and the new girl. 
“And what about you two?” She asked, hand sliding down to the side of David’s neck to keep him in check. She was confident enough in herself to handle him, but at the same time, he put her on edge. There was no way she was going to let her guard down around him yet.
That was the thing about female vampires, though; they had the uncanny ability to always put on a facade, and Vera was no exception. David made her nervous—they all did, honestly—but she wasn’t about to let them know that. 
“Paul,” the tall blonde said quickly, rushing forward as if he would die without her touch. He pressed his nose against her throat, breathing her scent as if he was starving. 
“Marko,” the smaller one followed, desperately reaching out to touch her hair. 
“Paul,” she purred, earning a growl. “...Marko…”
Another growl. 
They acted like they needed her, all three of them, but they were behaving themselves. She had no doubt that if she gave them the go ahead, she would be naked within seconds, but for the moment, they were listening to her. She had never experienced something like this before; usually, other vampires ignored her, or threatened her until she left their territory. These boys seemed to adore her, and she had to admit, she liked it. 
“Paul, Marko,” David said roughly. “Clean up so we can go home.”
With a groan, the younger two did as they were told, dragging Surf Nazi corpses into the ocean before wiping their hands and faces clean. 
“You’re their leader,” Vera said, more as an observation than anything else. “Are you their sire?”
David smirked as he helped her to her feet. “Depends on how you look at it.”
She raised an eyebrow. “There’s only one way to look at that, David.”
He melted when she said his name, leaning in to catch another whiff of her scent. It was sweet, like honey, sticky and sick, and all he wanted was to drown in it. “What have you done to me, Vera?”
She smiled and took his hand, raising it to lick blood off of his fingers. “Nothing on purpose, I promise.”
“Whatever it is, I don’t mind,” Paul suddenly grabbed her from behind, arms snaking around her waist as he buried his nose in her black hair, inhaling deeply and letting out a happy sigh. The feeling of her there in his arms, pressed up against him, was enough to make his fangs slide out again, and he couldn’t help but swipe his tongue up the side of her neck.
David snarled, snapping only inches from his brother’s face. “Behave.”
“You say as if you are,” Vera snorted, giving David a gentle push and easing her way out of Paul’s grip. “But you boys are all very sweet. I don’t mind the attention.”
“Oh, you have our attention, sweets,” Paul whistled as she turned and bent over to wash her face and hands at the water’s edge, giving them all a good view of her ass. A low rumble rose in David’s throat as he appreciated the sight, and Marko echoed it. 
“So greedy,” Vera mocked as she straightened up again. “Are you this nice to every bloodsucker that hangs out on your boardwalk, or is it just me?”
“Just you, that’s for sure,” Marko said, almost cackling.
“The others aren’t so delicious,” Paul cooed with that signature laugh. 
“Oh, aren’t you a charmer?” Vera said, walking back to them. Now that her arms and legs were clean of blood, they could see that she was covered in tattoos, and David wondered if she had them as a human before she was turned, or if she had found some way to make the ink stay in her regenerative skin.
Paul gave her a cocky grin and David rolled his eyes. His brother was such a flirtatious bastard. He was a lady killer, literally, even more than David was, but Vera didn’t seem to mind his advances. She seemed comfortable with Paul, taking it all in stride.
It made David just the tiniest bit jealous. 
“Come with us.” He said it more as an order than an offer, extending his hand out to her. 
“Unless you got somewhere better to go,” Marko joked. 
“And there ain’t nowhere better,” Paul snickered.
“There aren’t too many places to hide from the sun on a boardwalk,” Vera snorted. She was finally coming down from her high, the thrill of the hunt fading again and giving way to her less monstrous personality. “I was going to have to find a good spot anyways…”
Now that she wasn’t operating solely on instinct, she could take a moment and think about her situation. Three male vampires, none of whom had tried to kill her for stealing prey in their territory, seemed to be absolutely obsessed with everything about her and wanted her to go home with them. One had even kissed her and she had kissed him back, because it had felt so right. She allowed them to touch her, to taste her skin, to share her meal. They were stronger than her, and they outnumbered her, but she still felt like she was...in charge? 
David, the definite leader of the little pack, was looking at her hopefully. His face was stony, but she could see excitement in his blue eyes, and when she smiled, there was a spark of something in those irises. 
“Just don’t kill me in my sleep,” Vera joked as David took her hand and began leading her back up to the boardwalk. 
“No promises,” Marko leered as they followed.
“You look good enough to eat, babe,” Paul growled playfully, lunging forward to cop a feel of her ass. 
Vera only laughed, but David snarled dangerously at his brother, moving his arm to Vera’s shoulders and pulling her against his side. 
“Relax, you big angry beast,” Vera said with a grin, raising her hand to his chin and giving a teasing scratch. 
David huffed and Marko hooted with laughter. “Damn, she’s way more fun than you, David!”
“I dig this chick,” Paul snickered.
“You better share her,” Marko whined.
David smirked as they climbed the stairs back up to the boardwalk. Could he manage that? He only ever shared things with his brothers, but even then, he was terrible at it. Vera had some kind of magnetic pull on him, yeah, and his mouth watered at the thought of keeping her around, but Marko and Paul were both obviously into her...and she was into them. 
She was into all of them.
He needed to talk to Max. He honestly hated having to ask his sire for help or advice, and he avoided it whenever he could. Max had never been very nurturing, despite wanting everyone to act like a big family. It worked out for the boys, sure, but Max was…not a great father. A patriarch, yes, always seated at the head of the metaphorical table, but he was cruel and cold towards David, and he had been from the very start. He thought they all needed a stern hand to keep them in check, and David didn’t like that. 
Still, Max let them run free, and he knew more than David did about their own kind. He was helpful, sometimes, in his own way, and his son was going to have to defer to him. He had questions about Vera, about the pull he felt toward her, and Max was the only one with the answers.
As they returned to the boardwalk and joined the crowd of humans, Vera was pleased to see that the sea of people parted for the boys. They stepped aside, glancing with mixtures of emotions at the little pack. Girls looked dreamy, parents grabbed their children, Surf Nazis raised their lips in sneers. Was it because of their reputation, or did the humans somehow know that they should be afraid of the predators that stalked Santa Carla? She hoped it was both. She hoped that these boys were wild and rowdy enough to rule this boardwalk, and she hoped that they liked her enough to keep her around. 
She glanced up at the sky, a few stars twinkling despite the light pollution from the city. For the first time in a long time, she wasn’t itching to hop on a bus or hitch hike to the next town. For once in her life, Something was occupying her mind, and the wanderlust was giving way to another, completely foreign feeling. The ache in her chest was gone, but it was replaced by a strange, burning, almost longing that she had never felt before. It was almost similar to the emotions she experienced during bloodlust, but she was in control of herself. Her fangs weren’t poking through, her eyes weren’t shining...she was happy and her hunger was sated, so where was this coming from? 
She was still avoiding the one train of thought that would bring her to the right conclusion. It was just too much to consider, especially with everything happening so quickly all of the sudden. 
They came to a halt when they reached their bikes, Dwayne already back from dropping Laddie off. From the looks of it, he had grabbed a bite on the way, jeans stained with fresh blood that the humans would just assume was from a fight. 
Vera stopped. There was another male here? She was finding it hard to believe that she had stumbled across a pack of four males without any females, but she couldn’t smell much in the way of estrogen on them. It was just odd; vampires didn’t usually live in bachelor groups like these, but she supposed it wasn’t entirely unheard of. It was just strange that they hadn’t found any girls they wanted to keep around for all eternity.
Most people got lonely eventually. Maybe these four were all actually lovers...but she hadn’t seen any marks that would mean they were claimed, and she hadn’t smelled or sensed anything that would lead her to believe that they were serious.
Odd.
The one leaning against the bike was tall, long dark hair falling around his shoulders and a curious, but serious, expression on his handsome face. She felt frozen under his gaze, uncharacteristically nervous, like a deer in the headlights. It was like he could see right through her, and she didn’t know if she liked that or not.
“Dwayne, this is Vera,” David said as he tugged her along. She found a way to make her legs work again and followed, letting a smile curl its way onto her lips when Dwayne bowed his head to her. 
“And she’s tough,” Marko said, bouncing over to his bike. 
“And she’s gorgeous,” Paul took her hand and brought it to his lips for a kiss as he passed her.
“I can see that,” Dwayne said, his voice deep and smooth, a seductive smile on his lips. 
David narrowed his eyes, but tried to hide the movement with a smirk. “Keep an eye on her. I’m going to visit Max.”
“Oh, I’ll keep both eyes on her,” Paul winked as he beckoned for her to sit behind him on his motorcycle. 
David rolled his eyes, desperately trying to not make a scene. “Control yourself. I’ll be back.” 
He pressed a kiss to Vera’s head, inhaling deeply before leaving her side and stalking off down the boardwalk. He could already feel his sire tugging questioningly at his consciousness, curious as to why David was so eager to speak to him. His son had always been good at blocking him out, keeping his mind locked down unless he needed something or there was trouble that called for Max’s attention. The others were more open, but Max didn’t have as strong a link with them, and while David was supposed to be his prodigal son, he was so...secretive. Private. Closed off. For him to be willingly heading to the VideoMax store for anything other than annoying him or hitting on Maria out of boredom, something very important had to be going on, and Max was beyond itching to know what it could be. 
“Who’s Max?” Vera asked, joining Paul to perch on the back of his bike. 
“David’s sire,” Marko answered. 
“A grouchy old bloodsucker,” Paul grinned. 
“He runs the video store. He hates it when we crash.” Marko laughed. 
“But...that cashier is pretty cute,” Paul said, thinking of Maria. “I’d love for a bite of—”
He was cut off by the breath leaving his body when Vera wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head against his back. 
Marko hooted with laughter at his brother’s reaction and Dwayne let out a chuckle. Paul was absolutely speechless, and Vera wasn’t even making skin on skin contact with him. 
Until she felt him tense, smirked against his back, and slid her hands under his mesh shirt. 
If Paul could blush, he would have. He would have been a shade past tomato red. The feeling of her fingers running over his abs was all he could focus on for a moment, and all he wanted was to kiss her again, feel her again, maybe get a little tongue action...
“You’re supposed to behave yourself, Paul,” Marko taunted as he caught a whiff of the lust in the air and felt his brother’s excited thoughts.
“Yeah, yeah,” Paul snarled. “I don’t need this shit from you.”
“I’m just repeating what David said,” Marko said defensively. “You’re the one who can’t keep it in his pants.”
“Well, aren’t you just the perfect little angel?” Paul shot back. “I’m the one with a goddess on his bike, might I remind you.”
Marko scoffed, lip raised in a nasty little snarl. “Not for long, Paul!”
Vera smiled as they bickered. Paul’s arousal hung in the air, but she didn’t mind; in fact, she liked it, and she hugged her arms around him tighter as he squabbled with Marko. She was eager to get back to wherever it was that they called home, and she was eager to sleep surrounded by them and feel truly safe for once. She was used to being alone, and she wasn’t scared of it, but she was always on edge, always ready to run or fight. It made her a light sleeper, and the concept of not having to worry was more tantalizing than any of these boys were on their own. 
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dragonkeeper19600 · 3 years
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Jaws: The Musical (Concept)
So, out of curiosity, I looked online to see if anyone had ever adapted a musical from Jaws. There is a musical called Bruce that’s scheduled to debut in Seattle next year about the production of Jaws (and I would be interested in seeing that), but as for a musical of the Jaws story itself, I found one that’s for kids and about 48 minutes long.
Now, I’ve never seen this musical, so I cannot attest as to its quality, but, in my opinion, both of those choices are wrong. This musical should be the full two acts, and it should be aimed at adults. 
I’ve been brainstorming, and I think I’ve got a hypothetical musical all mapped out. You might think a musical based on Jaws is silly, but a lot of successful musicals have been adapted from really strange things (such as a comic book artist’s coming-out memoir, a crappy Roger Corman movie, and a collection of goofy cat poems), and I feel like a Jaws musical could be really epic. The story easily lends itself into a two-act structure. The first act is the shark attacks on Amity Island, and the second act is the hunt for the shark in the Orca. 
However, the musical wouldn’t make the mistake of putting lyrics to John Williams’s iconic Jaws theme. The theme would obviously be used as a leitmotif throughout the show, but it’s not the type of song that lends itself to lyrics, and I think that would be corny,
So, the musical would play out like this:
ACT ONE:
The movie opened with Chrissie’s death, so the stage show will do the same. The scene will be short and all dialogue, no singing. The shark will also not be seen, but its presence will be implied by the music, lighting, and Chrissy’s acting.
First song: “Welcome to Amity Island.” Functions as an intro to the setting of Act One. The tone is joyous and celebratory as the islanders welcome the flood of tourists that always come in the summer. A big portion of the song is sung by Mayor Vaughn as he sings about what a wonderful vacation spot Amity Island is. We also meet Brody, and a dark undercurrent is introduced to the song as he finds Chrissy’s mangled body.
Brody, of course, takes steps to close the beach right away, but he’s stopped by the Mayor, who sings the second song, “Summer Dollars,” where the Mayor insists that closing the beaches is bad for the town and that Brody shouldn’t be causing an unnecessary panic and causing hysteria that could drive tourists away. Brody tries to argue back but in the end, Vaughn has his way.
Brody returns to the station, apprehensive about keeping the beaches open. Here, we’re introduced to Brody’s wife, Ellen, who saw no problem with visiting him at work since nothing ever happens on Amity Island. Brody expresses his uneasiness, but Ellen assures him that his fear of the water is making him overestimate the danger. This gets Brody’s coworkers curious, so, with a little prompting from Ellen, Brody sings his first solo, “Drowning,” about his fear of the water. In the song, Brody sings about a childhood incident where a bully held him underwater at a public swimming pool. Not only did this give him a fear of water, but the bullying he received as a child is what set him on the path to become a cop, since he wanted to be able to protect people from suffering the same mistreatment he did. However, he moved from New York City because the working environment there was unfriendly to cops who wish to protect and serve instead of, well, being typical American cops.
Next song: “Blue Sky” Just as the Mayor wished, the beaches are open, and summer is in full swing. Brody is there with his family, anxiously keeping an eye on the water. The rest of the ensemble doesn’t share his anxiety, however, as they frolic and play in the sun. Brody is jolted to his feet several times by the sound of screaming, but it’s always a false alarm. However, the mood turns scary as we segue into the next song:
“Shark!” - While out swimming on his raft, young Alex Kintner is attacked and eaten. Brody sees it and screams the title of the song. It’s pandemonium as people rush out of the water, and the song is fast-paced and chaotic. However, it ends on a mournfully quiet note as Mrs. Kintner calls for her son. (”Alex? Alex!?”)
Quick scene transition, and we move immediately into he next song, called “Something Must Be Done.” Here, at a town council meeting, the townspeople argue back and forth about what to do about their shark problem. I imagine the music here sounding like the “Mayor’s Meeting” theme from The Legend of Zelda: Majora’s Mask. Brody argues strongly in favor of closing the beaches (in song, of course), but he is shut down not only by the Mayor but by the rest of the townspeople, who still rely on the income brought in by the tourists. People throw around various suggestions, with one woman finally declaring that she’ll reward whoever catches the shark with three thousand dollars. The song descends into a cacophony as people argue over each other.
The noise is interrupted by the screech of nails on a chalkboard. It’s Quint who sings the titular song, “Jaws,” as he sings about his job as a shark hunter and how dangerous sharks can be. (”Those jaws will swallow you whole. / A little shakin’, tenderizing’, down you go.”) He offers to kill the shark for ten grand, not three. The woman who made the offer balks at the high price, and the Mayor explains that kind of money isn’t in the budget “right now.” Quint takes it in stride and tells everyone they’ll know where to find him if they change their minds. He’s supposedly addressing the room, but he looks right at Brody as he says it. He can tell Brody is the only one who will actually listen.
Many sailors of various aptitudes come to Amity Island, hoping to catch the shark and cash in on that three thousand dollars. Among the new arrivals is Hooper, who introduces himself to Brody as a marine biologist from the Oceanographic Institute. Hooper sings his intro song, “Beautiful,” referring to his views on sharks. Hooper recounts how he was bitten by a shark as a child, but instead of coming to fear them, Hooper walked away fascinated by them and now views sharks to be beautiful creatures. However, the song takes a somber note as Hooper is brought in to examine Chrissie’s remains, and the word “Beautiful” is shifted from referring to sharks to referring to Chrissie when she was alive. (“She was just a kid. / So much of life to live. / Now, bits and scraps are all that’s left. / Of a girl who was once so beautiful.”)
“Hell of a Fish” - The fishermen succeed in catching a large tiger shark, presumed to be the shark that killed Alex and Chrissie. Brody joins in the celebratory atmosphere, but Hooper examines the dead shark’s teeth and is convinced they’ve got the wrong fish. The Mayor and the fisherman who caught the tiger shark argue that this is the shark that’s been causing the trouble, while Hooper argues back that it’s definitely not. Hooper angrily demands that he be allowed to dissect the shark to confirm whether there are human remains inside, but Mayor Vaughn rejects his request. He doesn't care if they’ve got the right shark. He doesn’t believe a third attack will happen either way. (”We’ve got a hell of a fish to show. / And shark attacks are pretty rare, you know?”) 
This song is interrupted by the entrance of Mrs. Kintner, in funeral attire, who goes up to Brody and slaps him. She then sings “My Boy Is Dead,” a slow, tragic lament about her son, Alex. (“He was just a boy. His whole life still ahead. / Now, I’ll never know what he would’ve been. / Because my boy is dead.”) Mrs. Kintner blames Brody for not warning the town after Chrissie’s death, and Brody takes the blame to heart. The song ends with a callback to “Hell of a Fish,” as Hooper bitterly remarks that he hopes Mayor Vaughn is right about the tiger shark being the culprit, otherwise there’s a “hell of a fish” still out there somewhere.
“Cloud on the Horizon” - Song is kicked off by a TV reporter, who delivers a brief story to the audience about the recent shark attacks on Amity Island. The holiday-making resumes on Amity’s beaches, but people are more nervous than before, The ensemble sings amongst themselves about whether they should go in the water. They finally do so with a little encouragement from the Mayor. Meanwhile, Brody encourages his son Michael to stay in the shallow pond.
“Shark! (Reprise)” - A shark fin is spotted in the water, and the ensemble takes up the alarm, scrambling while frantically singing a reprise of “Shark!” However, the alarm dies down when the fin is revealed to be a fake worn by a swimmer. However, a lone woman takes up the cry again as the shark is spotted swimming toward the pond where Michael is. The music ramps up as the shark takes down a boater mere feet away from Michael, and the audience gets their first clear view of the shark.
“Red Sea” - The song functions as a reprise of “Blue Sky,” but also contains musical elements from “My Boy is Dead.” Brody pulls his son Michael out of the water, unsure of whether he’s still alive. Luckily, Michael is only in shock. Ellen runs to call for an ambulance. As he waits by Michael’s body, Brody sings his second solo, loudly berating everyone in town, including himself, for allowing this to happen three times. All of the beachgoers, including the Mayor, are cowed by his song.
“(Can’t Find) a Good Man” - This is the first song between all three crew members of the Orca. Brody goes to hire Quint to kill the shark, agreeing to pay whatever he wants. Quint knows he has Brody by the balls and keeps upping the price, demanding additional payments like various kinds of booze and a color TV in addition to the ten thousand dollars. Brody agrees to all of it, but Quint’s one crew member refuses to go out after the shark, so Quint fires him. Hooper and Brody volunteer to go along, but Quint is reluctant to bring them aboard. He contemplates whether he should go alone, since Hooper and Brody will be useless on deck. Hooper loudly argues that he's qualified and “doesn’t need this working class hero crap,” but Brody is more gentle and persuasive. He reminds Quint that his own son was nearly killed by this shark and feels he owes it to both his family and the town to help in whatever way he can. Quint is won over by Brody’s humility and agrees to take them both on.
“Farewell, Amity Island” - Reprise of “Welcome to Amity Island” and the Act One Finale. Like “Welcome to Amity Island,” this is a huge ensemble number, this time centering around the Orca’s upcoming departure. Several characters come to see the ship off as Quint yells at Hooper and Brody, including the Mayor and Ellen. The Mayor apologizes to Brody (“I know you’re angry. You have every right to be. / My own children were there in that same red sea.”), where Ellen bids a tearful farewell, knowing she might never see Brody again. Brody’s sung farewells are intercut with a spoken back and forth between Quint and Hooper, as Quint snarks at everything Hooper does. The song also contains instrumental traces of “Spanish Ladies.” Brody and Ellen’s embrace is broken up by Quint as the Orca shoves off.
ACT TWO:
After the act two opener (which is an instrumental of “Jaws,” the song Quint sang earlier), we return to the Orca where Quint fishes off the stern, loudly singing “Spanish Ladies” a cappella. It sounds pretty good, but he’s interrupted by Hooper, who yells that he’s been listening to Quint sing for three hours and can’t take it any more. Brody has no choice but to listen to the ensuing back and forth as he chums the water. 
The childish behavior is interrupted when Quint gets a bite. He's convinced it’s the shark, but Hooper, still annoyed with Quint, believes it’s some kind of sport fish. Hooper begrudgingly goes to help Quint pull in the line, but a moment of inattention causes the line to snap.
“City Hands” - Quint berates Hooper for losing the shark and trying to tell a professional shark hunter how to hunt sharks. Their animosity finally erupts into an angry duet as they hurl very personal insults at each other, with Hooper calling Quint a drunken, senile sea dog, while Quint berates Hooper for being a coddled, privileged city boy. Their musical fight looks like it’ll get physical when Hooper snatches the beer Quint was drinking out of his hand and chucks it into the ocean. Luckily, Brody breaks it up, pointedly reminding them why they’re here and that they don’t need to be at each other’s throats when the shark will gladly do that for them. Quint sheepishly apologizes to Brody and only Brody. Hooper likewise backs down.
Brody returns to chumming the water only to toss a shovelful of chum directly into the shark’s face. The shark is right beside the Orca, and it’s huge. There is an instrumental score but no singing as all three men work together to try and bring in the shark. The shark seems unfazed by all the bullets and harpoons they shoot into it, but they manage to attach one barrel to the shark. Quint is satisfied that the shark will tire itself out with the barrel attached and that all they have to do is wait it out. Brody is all for returning to shore and calling the Coast Guard, but Quint ignores him.
Scene transition, and we’re in the ship’s cabin that night. All three men are staying up to wait for the shark, and they’ve had a bit to drink. Quint catches Brody examining the rope burn he got on his hand earlier in the day and reassures him that it won't leave a permanent scar. This segues into the duet “Something Permanent,” as Hooper and Quint compare scars. The tone isn’t angry and harsh as before but jovial and upbeat. Clearly, the earlier animosity is forgiven. 
“Those Eyes” - This is Quint’s solo about the sinking of the Indianapolis. Brody asks Quint about a scar on his arm that he hasn’t mentioned. Quint offhandedly mentions it’s a tattoo he had removed. When Hooper makes a joke about it being a “Mother” tattoo, Quint informs him it’s actually for the U.S.S. Indianapolis. Hooper clearly knows the story, but Brody doesn't, so Quint tells it. The song is slow and eerie. The words “those eyes” are used to refer to both the sharks’ eyes and the eyes of his crew mates as they were devoured or lay dead in the water. Quint sings that he still sees those eyes looming up at him in the dark of the night. He then catches the looks on Brody and Hooper’s faces and chuckles darkly, telling them not to look at him with “those eyes.” After all, they delivered the bomb. No one comments on this, but all three men have now sung their backstories at some point in the show.
Hooper quietly starts to sing “Show Me the Way to Go Home.” The other two join in. Their singing is interrupted by the shark ramming into the ship.
The crew scramble back on deck. Quint, his mind still swimming in the memory of the Indianapolis, wildly fires a rifle at the shark, but he only succeeds in driving it away, Hooper goes belowdeck  to assess the damage. The ship can still run, but it’s struggling. Brody loudly advocates returning to shore, but Quint refuses.
The shark returns, leading to the next song, “Barrels.” The song has a lot of dialogue and instrumental but also functions as a reprise of “Something Permanent,” as Quint gleefully proclaims his intent to leave “something permanent” on the shark. The crew manages to attach three barrels to the shark, but they lose track of it again. 
Quint decides that since barrels and weapons don’t seem to be working, and the ship is only becoming more damaged, that the thing to do is lure the shark back to shore and drown it in the shallow water. Hooper warns Quint that he’s overtaxing the engine, but Quint only leans harder on the throttle. The engine gives out. 
Brody goes to the radio to call the Coast Guard for help but is shocked when Quint smashes the radio with a baseball bat before the message can get out. This leads to an even angrier reprise of “City Hands,” now with Brody insulting Quint instead of Hooper, calling him “certifiable.” Quint shouts more than sings that he can handle it and he doesn’t need rescuing “this time.” The song shifts to the slower, gentler melody that was used when Brody calmed Hooper and Quint before as Quint tells Brody he vowed that would never be helpless in the water again. Both Brody and Hooper, who was heard the entire outburst, are struck silent.
“Beautiful (Reprise)” - Hooper somberly volunteers to be lowered into the anti-shark cage. Brody argues against it, but, for once, Quint is willing to hear Hooper out. Hooper sings about how putting himself in harm’s way is his only chance to the tune of his intro song, “Beautiful.” Hooper then admits that Quint is right, he hasn’t been through what Quint has, but he’s willing to try and prove his worth. Quint and Brody realize they don't have much choice and agree.
Hooper goes into the cage. Brody takes Hooper’s glasses, and Hooper gives them both one last look before he puts on his mask and goes under. 
“In the Cage” - Instrumental. While below the water (which is just another part of the stage covered in blue spotlights), Hooper tries to attack the shark with the syringe on the end of a spear, but he drops it. The shark begins to break its way into the cage, but Hooper manages to escape and hides behind some rocks, apologizing to the men above for failing.
Quint and Brody, of course, can’t hear him, nor can they see what’s happening below. Quint and Brody pull up the cage to find it mangled and empty. Brody is devastated, thinking that Hooper is dead, but Quint seems to be truly unraveling. He sings a shaky reprise of “Those Eyes,” this time obsessing over the look Hooper gave them before he went under. He frantically recalls that he saw the same look on the faces of his crew mates after the sinking of the Indianapolis. Tragically, the song also functions as a callback to “My Boy Is Dead.” (”It’s far too late for me now to take back the things I’ve said. / They’ll haunt me ‘til my dying day. / Because that boy is dead.”)
“Quint’s End” - Instrumental, spoken dialogue. Quint can’t get the last image of Hooper out of his mind and begs him to stop looking at him like that. Brody is alarmed as Quint’s pleas to Hooper change to pleas to his dead crew mate, Herbie Robinson. Quint has slid into a full-blown PTSD flashback. In his mind, he’s back in the waters of the Pacific thirty years ago, surrounded by sharks and dead crew mates. Brody tries to calm Quint down by reminding him where he is, but at that moment, the shark leaps onto the stern, and the Orca lists backwards. (In my head, the Orca set is on some kind of platform that can be raised at an incline.) Both men begin to slide toward the waiting jaws of the shark. Brody manages to grab onto the door frame leading into the cabin. He tries to hold onto Quint, but Quint slips out of his hand. Quint tries to fight back against the shark, but with a sickening crunch, Quint falls silent. The shark retreats with Quint’s lifeless body.
“Smile!” - Payback time. The Orca is sinking fast, and Brody knows that if he ends up in the water, it’s game over. Brody manages to ward the shark off with one of Hooper’s scuba tanks. The shark takes the scuba tank into its mouth, giving Brody the chance to climb onto the mast with Quint’s rifle. The music ramps up in speed and intensity as the shark closes in. Brody’s singing ramps up to match as he fires at the shark again and again, reminding himself of his promise to protect others and vowing that this shark will never kill anyone again. Then, with a final, bombastic, “So, smile you son of a bitch!” he gets a hit on the tank, and the shark explodes. He whoops and hollers as the music swells.
The finale instrumental is both sad and sweet. The sinking mast deposits Brody in the water. Hooper surfaces besides him. They laugh together, relieved that it’s over. Hooper asks about Quint, but Brody only responds with the single word, “No.” Hooper and Brody are close enough to paddle back to shore, so they do just that. As they set off, Brody begins to sing, “Show Me the Way to Go Home.” Hooper joins in. The curtain falls.
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the-cult-of-russo · 3 years
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Ok so I've been coming back here to reread all of your work and I never get tired of it (the NSFW alphabet one is low-key my favorite one 👀) and let me tell you that you're one of my favorite writers and love all of your work.
You don't have to do it if you don't want to, but do you have hc of how Billy Russo would react/ be when he finds out that he's going to be a father? Based on your NSFW alphabet you did for him, you described him as a (extremely) sweet and caring person and I couldn't help to think about how he would be if he ever had a kid of his own.
(Once again, feel free to ignore this if you want to or feel uncomfortable doing it. It's a thought that hass been in my head for a while and wanted to get it out of my system lmao 😂)
First off, thank you! I really appreciate that 🥺🖤🖤🖤
Also, I love talking about headcanons, never worry about asking me about them lmao
So I just wanna say since I did write a multi chapter series about how Billy walked away when he found out that like, the idea for that happened because the first part, his letter to you, is what came to my head. And I wanted to write something sad and angsty. I feel like he's much more likely to stick around in all honesty but the boys got so many issues who even knows loool
But I just wanted to point that out because this will be different and I don't want people to be like; 'But Thalia... you did a whole thing where he left...' 😂
So yeah lmao
Remember, this is my Billy. AU, still bros with Frank Billy 👀😂🖤
I've split this into a few scenarios because I feel like there would be small differences depending on the context.
One night stand:
You had a one night stand with Billy. An amazing, ruin you for other men, kind of one night stand. But then you found out you were pregnant and went to Anvil to tell him. Of course when you turn up there he has no idea the bomb you're about to drop on him. Instead, he gives you a filthy smirk as you enter his office.
"Couldn't stay away?"
When you tell Billy you're pregnant, there's a long moment where he just blinks at you and you're pretty sure you might have broke him.
He cycles through a million and one emotions before it settles on a mix of sheer terror, shock and happiness.
He tries not to get offended when you blurt out that you'd understand if he didn't want to be part of his baby's life. He didn't want his kid to grow up feeling like he didn't love them. He's not his mother.
You're not offended when the first words to leave his lips are asking if the baby is definitely his. Its a valid question since you'd slept with him just hours after meeting him in a bar.
He tells you he wants to be there and of course he takes care of all medical bills and even tries to convince you to let him buy you a better place to live. Somewhere closer to him so you and the baby will be close by.
It wasn't planned or expected by any means but he wants to be there.
Casual sex/friends with benefits:
Billy comes over expecting to get some great sex and instead has you thrusting a pregnancy test in his hands. You're scared and upset and have no idea how he'll react. You've been sleeping together for a while but been friends for longer than that. His commitment issues are exactly why you're worried.
He sits down and stares at it, letting his brain try to absorb the fact he's going to be a dad. He feels the shot of anxiety run through him, wondering if he can do it. What kind of dad could he be? His own mother never loved him, would he be capable of loving a child?
But he knows the answer is yes. Because despite not even being in a relationship with you and this coming out of the blue, he feels excitement welling inside of him and he doesn't even realise he's smiling at the test in his hands.
When he looks back at you, sees how scared you are, he feels a pang of something in his chest that feels an awful lot like panic. He asks what you want to do, scared of the answer you'll give him. But of course you scoff and tell him you're keeping the baby.
Relief and happiness flood his body then as he gets up, hugging you tightly and stroking your hair.
"You don't gotta worry. I'll take care of you both, I promise."
And he means it. Once again he pays all the medical bills and he shockingly tells you he'd like to make a real go out of what you two have.
He buys a house for you and the baby but doesn't pressure you about him living there too. He let's you set the pace for what's happening between you.
Relationship/marriage:
He cries. Like a lot. Planned or not, the news has him weeping like a little girl. You're living together so he notices when you're feeling unwell. Notices that you haven't had your period since he normally gets you ice-cream and also gets you pads and things if you need them. He doesn't say anything though until you do.
So he gets the test for you. The pair of you sit on the bed after you did what you needed, a timer on his phone. The test is on the dresser across the room. Both of you are silent. Overwhelmed by what might happen. He really wants it to be positive. (If this wasn't planned then when you told him you might be, he started to really think about it and found he wanted a baby with you).
When the timer goes off you both jump up comically but hesitate near the dresser. Billy ends up being the one brave enough to look. You watch his reaction for a moment and you're startled when his eyes water, the way he looks at you with a beaming smile as the tears fall without him even noticing.
"We're havin' a baby!" He grins like a mad man, picking you up and twirling you around.
He's so excited that the second your feet hit the ground, he's on the phone to Frank telling him the news. Still crying, mind you.
Once he's made his phone calls, he tells you the penthouse is being left behind. He's buying a house near the Castle's for your new little family.
Both he and Frank fix it up and decorate it.
No matter which scenario it happens:
Billy goes to every appointment with you, every ultrasound. The first time he sees his baby, he cries. When he finds out if its a boy or girl, he cries. When he first feels the baby kick, he cries. When the baby's born, he's a mess. He attends every class with you and reads all the books he can get his hands on. And of course he asks Frank for advice about anything and everything.
He frequently talks to your bump, regalling the baby with tales of his life or reading from a book. He takes good care of you, anything you need, he gets you. You want pickles and a donut at 4am? Don't worry, Billy's got you. You need crazy good sex because the hormones are driving you up the wall? Billy's got you. You're sobbing because you feel like a beached whale and none of your clothes, even the pregnancy ones fit you? Billy's there. Telling you that you're absolutely beautiful. Radiant even. He gets one of his guys to buy you a bunch of clothes that fit and he cuddles you until you feel better. He dotes on you constantly, always calls and texts if he's not with you to make sure you're okay.
When you go into labour, he's there holding your hand and cheering you on the whole time. And the second the babys there, he's sobbing and smiling like an idiot. When he first holds his baby, it's a feeling he's never felt before. He feels complete in every way. So full of love he just might burst from it. And while a tiny part of him grieves for the baby version of himself that didn't seem to ever have that, he's overwhelmed by the pure happiness and love as he gazes down at his little ones face.
"Shit... you're so perfect."
He vows to be the best damn father he can be and the baby will never feel unloved for even a second.
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fybillielourd · 5 years
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I grew up with three parents: a mom, a dad and Princess Leia. I guess Princess Leia was kind of like my stepmom–technically family, but deep down I didn’t really like her. She literally and metaphorically lived on a planet I had never been to. When Leia was around, there wasn’t as much room for my mom–for Carrie. As a child, I couldn’t understand why people loved Leia as much as they did. I didn’t want to watch her movie, I didn’t want to dress up like her, I didn’t even want to talk about her. I just wanted my mom–the one who lived on Earth, not Tatooine. I didn’t watch Star Wars until I was about 6 years old. (And I technically didn’t finish it until I was 9 or 10. I’m sorry! Don’t judge me!) My mom used to love to tell people that every time she tried to put it on, I would cover my ears and yell, “It’s too loud, Mommy! Turn it off!”–or fearfully question, “Is that lady in the TV you?” It wasn’t until middle school that I finally decided to watch it of my own accord–not because I suddenly developed a keen interest in ’70s sci-fi, but because boys started coming up to me and saying they fantasized about my mom. My mom? The lady who wore glitter makeup like it was lotion and didn’t wear a bra to support her much-support-needed DD/F’s? They couldn’t be talking about her! I had to investigate who this person was they were talking about. So I went home and watched the movie I had forever considered too loud and finally figured out what all the fuss was about the lady in the TV. I’d wanted to hate it so I could tell her how lame she was. Like any kid, I didn’t want my mom to be “hot” or “cool”–she was my mom. I was supposed to be the “cool,” “hot” one–not her! But staring at the screen that day, I realized no one is, or ever will be, as hot or as cool as Princess F-cking Leia. (Excuse my language. She’s just that cool!) Later that year, I went to Comic-Con with my mom. It was the first time I realized how widespread and deep people’s love for Leia was, even after so many years. It was surreal: people of all ages from all over the world were dressed up like my mom, the lady who sang me to sleep at night and held me when I was scared. Watching the amount of joy it brought to people when she hugged them or threw glitter in their faces was incredible to witness. People waited in line for hours just to meet her. People had tattoos of her. People named their children after her. People had stories of how Leia saved their lives. It was a side of my mom I had never seen before. And it was magical. I realized then that Leia is more than just a character. She’s a feeling. She is strength. She is grace. She is wit. She is femininity at its finest. She knows what she wants, and she gets it. She doesn’t need anyone to defend her, because she defends herself. And no one could have played her like my mother. Princess Leia is Carrie Fisher. Carrie Fisher is Princess Leia. The two go hand in hand. When I graduated from college, like most folks, I was trying to figure out what the hell to do with my life. I went to school planning to throw music festivals, but always had this little sliver of me that wanted to do what my parents pushed me so hard not to do–act. I was embarrassed to admit I was even slightly interested. So when my mom called me and told me they wanted me to come in to audition for Star Wars, I pretended it wasn’t a big deal–I even laughed at the concept–but inside I couldn’t think of anything that would make me happier. A couple weeks later I went in for my audition. I probably had never been more nervous in my life. I was terrified and most likely made a fool of myself, but I kind of had a great time doing it. I assumed they would never call me, but after that audition, I realized I wanted to give the whole acting thing a shot. I was definitely afraid, but as a wise woman once said, “Stay afraid, but do it anyway … The confidence will follow.” About a month later, they somehow ended up calling. And there I was, on my way to be in motherf-cking Star Wars. Whoa. Growing up, my parents treated film sets like a house full of people with the flu: they kept me away from them at all costs. So on that fateful first day driving up to Pinewood, I was like a doe-eyed child. I couldn’t tell my mom, but little sassy, sarcastic, postcollege me felt like a giddy, grateful middle schooler showing up to a fancy new school. On that first day, my mom and I sat next to each other in the hair and makeup trailer. (Actually, she wasn’t really one for sitting, so she paced up and down and around me, occasionally reapplying her already overapplied glitter makeup and feeding Gary, her French bulldog.) Between glitterings, the hairstylist crafted what was to become General Leia’s hairstyle, then it was on to me: little Lieutenant Connix. Funnily enough, my mom had more to say about my hairstyle than her own. Even though she complained for years about how the iconic Leia buns “further widened my already wide face,” she desperately wanted me to carry on the face-widening family tradition! Some people carry on their family name, some people carry on holiday traditions–I was going to carry on the family hairstyle. So after we tested a few other space-appropriate hairstyles, we decided to embrace the weird galactic nepotism of it all and went with the mini–Leia buns. She stood in the mirror behind me and smiled like we had gotten matching tattoos. Our secret-handshake hairstyle. On the first day of this thing I could now call “work,” I walked into the Resistance Base set for rehearsal and J.J. Abrams, the director, told me where to stand and what to do–basically just press some pretty real-looking fake buttons. But I have to say, just pressing those buttons and observing the rest of the scene was one of the most fun things I had ever done. I had no lines in the scene, but my mom kept checking on me like I was delivering a Shakespearean monologue. “Are you O.K.?” she asked. “Do you need anything?” I scoffed at her maternal questions like a child embarrassed by her mother yelling goodbye too loud in a carpool line: “Mommy, go away! I’m fine. Focus on you, not me!” In the moment, I was humiliated that my mom was moming me on my first day of work, on the Star Wars set, of all places. But now I realize she was just being protective. Sets are extremely intimidating–I was too green at the time to know that–and she assumed I would be scared as hell. But weirdly, I wasn’t. At risk of sounding insane, something about this bizarre new world made me feel right at home. I had found a place with an empty puzzle slot that perfectly matched my weird-shaped puzzle piece. That night, on the long London-traffic-filled ride back from set, she turned to me and smiled. “Bits,” she said. “You know, most people aren’t as comfortable on sets as you were today. Especially on the f-cking Star Wars set, of all places!” (Excuse my language, but that was her language.) “This might be something you should think about doing.” At first I laughed, assuming she was kidding. But she continued to look me straight in the eye with no inkling of irony in sight. My mom was telling me I should act–my mom? The lady who spent my entire life convincing me acting was the last thing I should do? It couldn’t be true. But it was. I haven’t had many moments like this in my life–those aha moments everyone talks about. This was my first real one. My mom wanted me to be an actress. That was when I realized I had to give it a shot. She used to sarcastically quip that she knew all along what a massive hit Star Wars would be. As with most things, she was kidding. She was absolutely and totally beyond shocked by the massive global phenomenon that was the first Star Wars trilogy. It changed her life forever. Then, when it happened again almost 40 years later, she was even more absolutely and totally beyond shocked. It changed her life yet again. But that time, it changed my life too. I thought getting to make one Star Wars movie with her was a once-in-a-lifetime thing; then they asked me to come do the next movie and I got to do my once-in-a-lifetime twice. On our second movie together, I really tried to take a step back and appreciate what I was doing. I couldn’t tell her because she’d think I was lame, but getting to watch her be Leia this time made me feel like the proud mom. Watching the original Star Wars movies as a kid in my mom’s bed, I never imagined the lady in the TV would get older and get back in the TV. And I definitely never imagined we would end up in the TV together. But that’s where we ended up. Two little ladies in the TV together–Leia and little Lieutenant Connix. We wrapped The Last Jedi a little less than six months before she died. I went back to L.A. to film the show I was on, and she stayed in London to film the show she was on. One of the last times we spoke on the phone, she talked about how excited she was that the next movie in the trilogy was going to be Leia’s movie. Her movie. She used to say that in the original movies, she got to be “the only girl in an all-boys fantasy.” But with each new Star Wars movie, the all-boys fantasy started to become a boys-and-girls fantasy. She was no longer a part of a fantasy, but the fantasy herself. Leia was not just a sidekick one of the male leads had on his arm, or a damsel in distress. She was the hero herself. The princess became the general. My mom died on Dec. 27, 2016. Two days after Christmas, four days before New Year’s and about a year before she was supposed to appear in her final Star Wars film. Losing my mom is the hardest thing I’ve ever been through. I lost my best friend. My little lady in the TV. My Momby. And I inherited this weird, intimidating thing called her legacy. Suddenly I was in charge of what would come of her books, her movies and a bunch of other overwhelming things. I was now the keeper of Leia. About a year later, J.J. called me into his office to talk about the plans for Leia. We both agreed she was too important to be written off in the classic Star Wars introductory scroll. This last movie was supposed to be Leia’s movie, and we wanted it to remain that, as much as possible. What I hadn’t known–and what J.J. told me that day –was that there was footage of my mom that they had collected over the years that hadn’t made it into the movies, footage that J.J. told me would be enough to write an entire movie around. It was like she had left us a gift that would allow Leia’s story to be completed. I was speechless. (Anyone who knows me knows that doesn’t happen very often.) J.J. asked me if I would want to come back as Lieutenant Connix. I knew it would be one of the most painful, difficult things I would ever do, but I said yes for her–for my mom. For Leia. For everyone Leia means so much to. For everyone Leia gives strength to. For my future kids, so someday they’ll have one more movie to watch that Mommy and Grandma were in together. So they can ask me about the lady–now ladies–in the TV and tell me to turn it down because it’s too loud. I grew up with three parents: a mom, a dad and Princess Leia. Initially, Princess Leia was kind of like my stepmom. Now she’s my guardian angel. And I’m her keeper.
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messers-moony · 3 years
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Comics 2 | A.G
Paring: Aidan Gallagher X Fem!Reader
Summary: Aidan meets an unusually pretty girl at a library while trying to find a textbook for school
Warnings: Cursing
Years later, Aidan and Y/n were now twenty-five. All these years and Aidan hadn’t seen her since he gifted her the comic book when they were just twenty. All these years later and he still loved her.
He left a bookmark in there on purpose, one with his number, but yet, she never called. It made his mind wander. Why wasn’t she calling? Maybe she wasn’t fond of calling, but even then, she never texted either.
A certain feeling of defeat lingered in his heart. Maybe she didn’t like him like that. Her words were stuck in his mind; they lagged in his head like a broken record every time he was to fall asleep.
“ Y/n L/n. Remember it. “
Why was he to remember it? She was a comic book artist, for Christ's sake, not an upcoming actress. As far as he knew, there would never be a significance to her name. A new Netflix show was in the making, another one based on comic books.
Of course, Aidan got the call. The call was a producer begging him to audition for the leading role. He would be perfect for this role, swore the producer. Aidan was hesitant but did it anyway.
Aidan wasn’t the only one in the audition room, of course, but he was only here because of the pleading the producer did. He auditioned, and that was that. Within a week's notice, they would notify him.
On his way home, he stopped by a library, the very same library he met the girl at. Sighing, he walked to the comic book section and picked up the series of comics. There were five in the series, and he bought all of them.
He walked home with a backpack filled with his belongings and now new comic books. Walking into his apartment, he unzipped his bag and took out the first comic. The male ignored who wrote and illustrated it. It didn’t really matter. Did it?
The brunette read through the first comic and was hooked almost immediately. He read through them relatively quickly, and when he finished, he was agitated. The books were completed on a cliffhanger, only leading him to assume there had to be a sixth book soon.
Three days went by, and Aidan couldn’t help but reread the comic books for a more thorough analysis. The more he read, the more he saw how similar he and the main character was.
Everything down to the hair, the dimples, the smile, and the eyes were the exact same. The mannerisms being almost identical scared him. But he realized why the producer begged him for this role. He wasn’t exaggerating when he said Aidan was the perfect candidate for it.
He finished the series a second time and stared at the cover. That’s when he realized it and then began to scold himself for how dense he could possibly be.
“ Written and Illustrated by Y/n L/n “
We’re the words written across the top of the book. That’s why the main character was so similar to him, because the girl who wrote it knew who he was. She was observant, hella observant.
Within a week's notice, as promised, Aidan got a call saying he got the role and they would fly him to New York to begin filming. He’d be leaving in a month, probably the least amount of notice he’s been given before filming a show.
Nonetheless, the month went by faster than you could blink, and he was on a plane to New York. The set was much bigger than he imagined and made his way to the producers.
“ Aidan, you came! How wonderful! “ The producer from the phone exclaimed happily, “ My names Alex. I’m so ecstatic you came. “
Alex put his hand out to shake, which Aidan accepted politely, “ I assume you’ve read the comics by now? “ A familiar voice queried.
“ I have, actually. “ Aidan replied, turning around to be met with the dyed-haired female, “ I told you, remembering my name would come in handy. “ Y/n winked.
Aidan snickered, “ Why make your main character almost exactly like me? “ Aidan questioned, fully serious, “ Because Gallagher, you’re intriguing. You also seem to attract the best audience. Not to mention you always put on a show. “ Y/n said with prominent confidence.
The way his last name rolled off her tongue almost made him faint. He adored her and wanted her to be his. Now that she was here, he’d do anything in his power to make her his.
“ So you’re using me to make your show popular? “ The male joked, “ No, don’t take it the wrong way. I used you because you’re hardworking, and you put everything into your role. You, my love, are perfect for this role. “ Y/n responded, and Aidan’s cheeks flushed at the pet name.
“ Now, I must be going. However, I will see you on set tomorrow, I presume? “ She questioned with a soft smile, “ Yeah. Definitely. “ Aidan breathed as she left.
A hand was laid upon his shoulder, “ You are completely head over heels for her, huh? “ A male voice spoke in his ear, making him jump, “ Jesus Christ Robert, where did you come from? Why are you here? “ Aidan heaved as his hand was on his heart.
“ I’ve actually earned myself a role as well as Elliot Page. I’ve never seen you so entranced. “ Robert commented, “ She's been stuck in my head for years. “ Aidan murmured.
Robert had a face of curiosity, “ We met like five years ago at a library, and I talked to her for only two hours, but by then, she had me completely wrapped around her finger. “ Aidan explained, and Robert raised an eyebrow, “ She moved the next week, and I hadn’t seen her since. “
“ Well. Better make your move soon. I’ve seen guys eyeing her up all day. “ Robert replied as he walked off.
Months later, Y/n was right. Aidan was absolutely perfect for the role without even trying. Granted, the character was practically him, but he excelled in making the role his own.
Y/n and Aidan had gotten quite close throughout those months. They seemed pretty fond of each other. She was confident, intelligent, and caring. He was thoughtful, kind, and sweet. The pair made a loving match.
However, the girl's heart was guarded, she had been let down so many times, and she didn’t want to ruin the friendship she had acquired with the famous male. Aidan, in his free time, had been working on an EP. The title and main song on it was held close to his heart.
After a couple of dates and a lot of convincing, she gave in. Aidan Gallagher had now achieved the girl of his dreams, Y/n L/n. She was everything he wanted and so much more. He was captivated by her and made sure he showed the world.
Every chance he got, he posted her everywhere. His fans absolutely adored her, possibly even more than he did. Saturday lives his fans spent begging to see the admirable female when she wasn’t present. It honestly made Aidan quite jealous.
Regardless it made Aidan’s heart feel unbelievably full that both he and his fans loved her as much as he desired. Mornings were spent holding each other with subtle morning kisses. Nights were spent eating take-out and playing the original Mario kart after many arguments that it was better than the newer versions.
Filming was almost complete, and Aidan’s stay in New York was coming to a very prominent close. A day neither lover was looking forward to. His home was in Los Angeles, and hers was in New York. There was no changing that.
“ Do you really have to go? “ Questioned the teary-eyed female, “ Unfortunately. “ Aidan sighed.
They both stood in JFK Airport as close as they could before having to depart. Aidan’s hands held her tear-stained cheeks, and she moved stray strands of hair from his forehead.
“ I promise, I will come back for you. “ Aidan pledged to, and she sniffled, nodding, “ I’ll move in with you if you want. “
Y/n looked up slightly guilty, “ I don’t want to be the reason you leave your hometown. You grew up there. Your entire family is there. I would feel awful taking you away from them. “ She admitted, “ I would be living here willingly. Plus, there’s more opportunities acting-wise here, believe it or not. Hollywood isn’t all it’s made out to be. The United Nations is also home to New York. It’d be closer to everything. “ Aidan explained.
“ If- If that’s what you want, then I wouldn’t hesitate. “ Y/n smiled softly.
Aidan pressed a gentle kiss to her lips, “ Then this isn’t really goodbye, is it? “ Aidan’s whisper left a hot breath lingering on her lips, “ No, it isn’t. “ Y/n replied.
“ Stop your crying then. I hate seeing you cry. I will come back. “ He muttered softly, wiping her tears and kissing her forehead, “ I love you. “
“ I love you too. Be safe, please. Text me when you get on and when you land, okay? “ She requested, “ Always. “ Aidan simpered.
Gently he let her go and walked away with a tiny wave. Now there were only two things left to do. Pack up all of his stuff and play one last show in Los Angeles before leaving his home.
The male pack quickly when he arrived home, way too excited to live with his new partner. His show was scheduled for that night. Tonight he’d be playing his brand new song, the main song on his latest EP, the one he held close to his heart.
Nerves ran through his body like no tomorrow as he stepped up on stage. Screams were heard throughout the entire venue, making him smile brightly.
“ Hello everyone. “ Aidan greeted, getting screams in response, “ As you all may know, I will not be living in LA for much longer. New York seems more like home now than it’s ever seemed, so after this show, I’ll be getting on a plane to my new home. “
“ While I’ll play your favorite’s such as songs like Blue Neon and Fourth of July, there’s a new song at the end I’d love for your feedback on. I hold this song very close to my heart, and I hope you all will as well. So let’s get this started. “ Aidan informed with a gleeful smile present on his lips.
Aidan began strumming the guitar and singing the all too familiar lyrics. Applause was given in between each song, only encouraging his love for music as he continued to sing— his fans sung along with him giving Aidan a sense of love and commitment.
Finally, the last song was due to play, “ I call this last one, Comics. “
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fridayfirefly · 4 years
Text
Two Birds [Part One]
Read Two Birds on AO3
Masterlist [All Works]
Masterlist [Two Birds Series]
Written for Maribat March Day 14 - Dead
Nine-year-old Marinette Dupain-Cheng peeked around the legs of her Grandma Gina to look up at the circus tent. Framed by the setting sun, it looked grand and magnificent, but Marinette still would rather have stayed at home. "We'll be staying here?"
"Not inside the circus tent, silly. There are trailers around back that the performers sleep in. That's where we'll be staying."
Marinette scuffed her shoes against the ground, watching the dust kick up. "Why couldn't we just stay at home?"
"We have to experience new things, Marinette - that's what makes life worth living when you're old like me."
"I don't want to try new things and I don't want to stay with strangers. I just want to stay at home."
"It's only three days, sweetheart. Just trust me. You'll have fun."
Marinette pouted but nodded anyway. "Fine." Marinette loved her Grandma Gina, who brought her gifts from all around the world and told her stories of her travels. However, Marinette didn't like when her parents made Gina babysit. Gina refused to babysit Marinette at home and instead took Marinette on her travels with her. Marinette didn't like traveling, especially when it meant she had to stay with strangers. She much preferred her own bed to the bed of a stranger.
"Gina Dupain!" exclaimed a smiling man, walking out of the circus tent.
"Walter Haly! How are things in the circus business?"
"Worse without you, my lovely Gina. Please tell me you'll perform while you're staying with us."
Gina smiled but shook her head. "I'm too old for the trapeze, Walter. But maybe I can convince this little one to try it out." Gina pushed Marinette out in front of her.
"Oh! Who is this?"
"My granddaughter, Marinette."
Haly knelt down to get to Marinette's height. "How old are you, Marinette?"
Marinette stared down at her shoes, scuffed up brown with dust. "I'm nine years old."
"Do you want to try out the trapeze?"
Marinette vigorously shook her head. "I'm scared of heights."
"Well, we'll see about that. A lot can change in three days." Haly got up and led Marinette and Grandma Gina around behind the tent to the trailers.
Marinette knew that if her mother was there, she would be scolded for being rude, but she couldn't help it. She didn't want to stay at the circus. She wanted to stay in her room, play Ultra Mecha Strike with Kim, and sneak cookies from the bakery when Gina wasn't looking.
Haly pointed to a baby-blue colored trailer. "Gina, you'll be staying on Clarise's couch - you remember Clarise, right."
Grandma Gina nodded. "Clarise was the redhead, right? The sword-swallower?"
"That's the one. Now, her couch only has room for one, so Marinette will be staying with the Graysons. They have a son - Richard - who's her age." Haly pointed out a trailer painted with green and yellow stripes.
Marinette grabbed onto Gina's hand. "I want to stay with you, Grandma Gina."
Gina shook her head. "You have to stay with the Graysons. But don't worry sweetheart, you'll have a lot of fun."
Marinette sighed and dragged her feet as she walked to the trailer. Of all the weekend that her parents left town to go to a pastry exhibition, it had to be the weekend that the circus that Grandma Gina once performed at was in town. Marinette knocked twice on the door and waited for it to open. A pretty woman with dark hair and kind eyes opened up the door and started speaking in perfect French. "Oh, hello! You must be little Marinette."
"Yes ma'am," Marinette mumbled.
"Come inside sweetheart." The woman led Marinette into the trailer. It was cramped and messy, but obviously well-loved. The walls were painted periwinkle and the curtains covering the window were orange with blue butterflies. "You don't have to call me ma'am, it makes me feel old. I'm Mary, and this is my husband John."
John was sitting on the couch, mending a tear in a crimson red leotard. "Hello, Marinette. Welcome to Haly's Circus."
"Hi."
Mary started leading Marinette to a door. "This is our son Dick's room, where you'll be sleeping. We set up an air mattress on the floor. You can drop your backpack off in there. Dick will be showing you tomorrow, keeping you out of trouble."
"Okay."
Dick was sitting on the bed when Marinette walked into the room, reading a comic book. Marinette waved shyly, "Hello, I'm Marinette."
"I'm Dick, Dick Grayson."
"Which comic book is that?" asked Marinette, leaning forward to get a good look at the title.
"It's an American comic book about this superhero named Ant-Man. He can shrink super small or grow super huge. He's really cool."
"Could I read it?" asked Marinette.
"Sure. I even have the first one on my bookshelf. I have comic books for nearly all of the Marvel superheroes."  As Marinette read, Dick explained the backstories of all of his favorite superheroes and why he owned so many of the comics. "I want to be a superhero someday. If I were a superhero, I would want to be able to fly for real, not just on the trapeze.
Just then, Marinette noticed a poster up on the wall. Visit Haly's Circus to watch the amazing Flying Grayson trapeze family. On the poster were three silhouettes of trapeze artists. "That's you on the poster, isn't it?"
"Yep. I've been doing trapeze since I was seven, and I'm ten now, so that's three whole years. I only got to start performing last month, though." Dick hopped off of his bed and sat down on the air mattress, facing Marinette. "While you're here, are you gonna learn how to do trapeze?"
Marinette shook her head. "I can't. It's too scary."
"But trapeze isn't even scary," protested Dick.
"Maybe not for you, but you do it all the time. I've never done it before and I'm scared of heights."
"Hmm. How about, if you try out the trapeze, I'll do something that scares me, too."
"What would you do?"
Dick stopped to think it over, his face scrunched up in a way that Marinette found both cute and worrisome, given that he was thinking over ways to get her to face her greatest fear of all time. "I know! If you learn trapeze, I'll learn to swim."
"No way! Swimming is way easier than trapeze."
"Not for me!" said Dick indignantly. "I've never been able to swim. But I'll learn how if you learn how to do trapeze."
"I don't know..." Dick was so enthusiastic about the plan that Marinette wanted to say yes, yet there was a lingering fear that held her back.
"Trust me, Marinette. In three days you'll be flying like a bird, and I'll be swimming like a fish."
"Oh, alright. I'll try it."
"Great! Now, I still have a question for you: if you could have any power, what would it be."
"Invisibility," decided Marinette, "That way when I'm late to school, I can slip into the classroom without my teacher noticing."
"Good choice. Now it's your turn to ask a question."
Dick and Marinette stayed up late that night, reading comics and asking each other questions. By morning, Marinette knew that Dick's favorite color was blue, his favorite cookie was chocolate with chocolate chips, his favorite comic book hero was Hawkeye (because he doesn't have any powers, but still manages to be a superhero), and his favorite circus animal performer was Zitka the Elephant. Dick was nine months older than Marinette, his birthday being October 2nd as opposed to her July 28th birthday.
"It's time to teach you how to do trapeze!" announced Dick as soon as breakfast was over.
"We offered to watch over you today while Gina catches up with her friends," explained Mary. "Now, I know that you're afraid of heights, and I'm not going to force you to do anything that you don't want, but I think it would be a good experience to try trapeze. I promise you, it's completely safe."
"I'll try it."
Dick grinned. "We made a deal last night. If Marinette learns how to do trapeze then I have to learn how to swim."
John raised one eyebrow. "I thought that you swore off swimming for as long as you live."
"I changed my mind. Marinette has to learn how to do trapeze."
Mary and John were both smiling as they exchanged a look. Mary cleared her throat, then said, "Alright. Marinette, I'll get you a leotard, and then you can get dressed."
Given that they were approximately the same size, Dick would be partnered up with Marinette to guide her through the trapeze while she was in the air. Dick and John went ahead to get Dick in position before Marinette started. However, by the time Mary and Marinette got to the circus tent, Marinette was having second thoughts. While her new white leotard was cute, the thought of plummeting to her death while attempting to do trapeze was much less cute. "I'm not so sure about this."
"Marinette, I promise that there is no way you can get hurt. We'll have you strapped into a harness the whole time."
Marinette looked up at Mary, "You promise?"
As she looked up at Mary, the one thing that Marinette's anxious brain noticed was that the older woman had very trustworthy eyes. "Yes, I promise."
Marinette took a deep breath. "Then I want to learn how to do trapeze."
Mary smiled. "Good. Now, the first thing we need to do is get you into your harness. It will be connected to lunge lines to keep you safe in case you fall off the ladder. Then you'll climb the ladder to the top, and we'll attach you to more safety lines. At any point, no matter what happens, you'll be safe if you fall."
Mary helped Marinette into the harness, re-explaining everything as she went along. "Once you get to the top of the ladder, John will guide you through. Dick will be on the other side, mirroring everything you do, and showing you what to do next if you need help. Got it?"
"Yep. Got it." Now, all Marinette had to do was climb the ladder - the extremely tall, extremely scary ladder.
Mary put her hand on Marinette's shoulder. "You can do this, sweetheart. There will be things in life that you're scared of, and sometimes the only way to move forward is to face those fears."
Marinette smiled up at Mary. "Thank you." She got up onto the first rung of the ladder, then the second, then the third, making sure to look up at her destination instead of down at the ground.
"Good job," said John, as Marinette climbed up onto the platform next to him. "Now I'm just going to clip you into the safety lines and unclip you from the lunge lines. There's a specific set of commands that will tell you when to go. Dick is catching you, so he'll say 'Listo' when he's built up enough height in his swing. You then will say 'Listo' when you grab hold of the fly bar. Dick will tell you 'Ready' when you need to prepare to jump, and 'Hep' is the command to jump. When you get to the peak of your swing, Dick will yell "Hep" again. That's your signal to let go of the bar. Dick will grab your hands with his, and swing you back over to the other platform, where Mary will be there to help you back onto the platform. Are you ready?"
Marinette nodded, gazing at the trapeze setup with determination. "I'm ready."
Marinette watched Dick as he took off, holding his fly bar. As he swung, he transitioned from being upright, holding the bar with his hands, to being upside down, holding the bar under his knees, his hands free to catch her. "Listo!" Dick called out.
Marinette grabbed onto the fly bar. "Listo!"
"Ready!"
Marinette bent her knees and took a deep breath.
"Hep!"
Marinette jumped off the platform, swinging on the fly bar as the wind whipped in her face. It was exhilarating. Her fear of heights was the last thing on her mind as she watched the colors of the circus tent fly by. Marinette suddenly understood what Dick meant, when he told her that he wished to be able to fly. She felt incredible, and she never wanted the feeling to end.
"Hep!" Dick called again as he swung closer and closer to her.
Marinette let go. At the same instant, Dick's hands clasped around hers, and she was swinging with him.
"How does it feel?" asked Dick.
"Amazing!" Marinette cheered as they swung back to Dick's platform.
Mary was there to grab Marinette out of Dick's grasp, pulling her firmly onto the platform. Dick flipped himself upright and did a backflip up onto the platform. "Ta-da! How did I do as my first time as a catcher?"
"The both of you did very well. You were an excellent catcher, Dick, and you were a natural flyer, Marinette. I can see the two of you being able to pull off some exceptional stunts someday, if you were to continue trapeze, Marinette."
"I want to. I really do."
Marinette was eager to get back onto the trapeze as soon as possible, but Mary insisted that they stop for lunch first. As they walked out of the circus tent, Marinette pulled Dick aside and whisper-shouted, "That was your first time as a catcher and you didn't think to tell me?"
Dick shrugged, a mischievous smile spreading on his face. "I thought it would make you more nervous."
Marinette spluttered, "You- you-"
"Dick?" suggested Dick with a straight face.
The pair burst into instantaneous laughter, so hard they were gasping for breath as they made their way back to the Grayson's trailer.
------
The next three days passed in a blur. Every morning, Dick and Marinette would start their day on the trapeze. Dick guided Marinette through more and more advanced maneuvers, working as a team to accomplish amazing feats. Every minute they spent together up on the trapeze, Marinette could feel the connection between them growing. After a few hours up on the trapeze, Marinette and Dick would get down, get lunch, and explore the campsite. Marinette got to meet Zitka the Elephant and her calf, Nadia, both of whom were rescued from a roadside petting zoo in Texas and given to Haly after they were deemed too domesticated to be released back into the wild.
Marinette and Dick would get back on the trapeze in the afternoon until Mary and John called them for supper. Then, the circus would perform. Marinette would watch The Flying Graysons perform, amazed by how effortless they made it look. After the performance, Marinette would shower Dick with praise as they walked back to the trailer. Dick pretended that he wasn't flattered, but Marinette could see how much it meant to him, to hear it from her. Though they hadn't known each other for very long at all, there was instant platonic chemistry between the two of them.
Grandma Gina made herself scarce over the weekend, spending most of her time with her old friends from her circus days. However, she always made sure to stop in to watch Marinette on the trapeze, taking pictures to show Tom and Sabine when the couple returned to Paris.
The weekend felt like it lasted both three years and three minutes at the same time; nevertheless, Sunday night still came, and Marinette had to say goodbye.
"I'll just run away with the circus," said Marinette, sitting on the air mattress, staring at her fully packed backpack. "Mary and John would take me in."
Dick shook his head. "They would never allow it, no matter how good you are at trapeze."
Marinette sighed. "I'm really going to miss you."
Dick sighed as well, leaning his head against Marinette's. "This really sucks." After a moment of silently commiserating their terrible fortune, Dick suddenly jumped up. "I know! We can send letters to each other to keep in touch. And I can send you comic books when you need new ones to read."
"But the circus moves around constantly. Where will I send the letters to?"
"I have the schedule of everywhere that we'll be for the next six months. You'll just have to send the letters so that they reach the right destination at the right time."
"That means I can still talk to you!"
And suddenly, goodbye was a lot easier to bear.
------
Haly's Circus performed in Paris twice a year - once in January and once in July - meaning that Marinette and Dick had very little time to spend together in person. However, they did write to each other. Dick would send postcards from all the places he visited and Marinette invested in good stationery to write her letters on. Dick would mail over American comic books, carefully folded and stuffed into envelopes. Marinette would send back handmade patches for Dick to sew onto his leotard. They would write about all the details of their lives that they never mentioned to anyone else. Dick told Marinette that sometimes he wished that he could have had a normal childhood all in one place, but then he would think about all the people and places he would have never met and regret ever wanting anything else. Marinette told Dick that sometimes she worried that no matter how hard she worked to be interesting and funny and worthwhile, she would never be enough for the people around her.
Worried that she would forget how to do trapeze during the six months before Haly's circus returned, Marinette convinced her parents to let her attend the one gymnastics studio in Paris that offered trapeze. They were reluctant at first, worried that Marinette could get hurt, but after a thorough overview of the safety precautions, they finally relented. It was a thirty-minute metro ride, but it was worth it when she got up on the trapeze. Marinette quickly became friends with the other students her age at the studio. Alan, Allegra, and Claude were all two years older than her and lived on the other side of Paris, but they still made time to hang out with Marinette both inside and outside of the studio.
As Marinette grew more and more skilled at trapeze, she decided to try some similar sports. She split her free time between the studio, where she worked on developing her skills at trapeze, gymnastics, and aerial silks, and home, where she worked on designing and creating clothes. It was ambitious for a ten-year-old, but Marinette was determined. She loved trapeze and loved making her own clothes, and she loved those two things equally. She could never give one up, and could barely bring herself to prioritize one over the other when her free time grew scarce.
Marinette had her purpose in life: chasing the feeling of flying as far as it could go and creating things out of nothing but her own imagination. She had all the friends she could ever need, but most important to her was Dick, who, despite their distance, seemed closer to her than anyone else.
------
It was a Thursday, the day that Marinette's world ended. It was sunny and unusually warm for October. For Marinette, the day started off entirely normally. She went to school, ate lunch with Kim and Alix, went to the trapeze studio after school to work on a new trapeze routine, got hot cocoa with Alan, Allegra, and Claude afterward, then went home.
It was the 31st of October, the day that Marinette learned of the deaths of Mary and John Grayson. Mary, with her kind eyes, and John, with his crooked smile, were gone forever. Dick was an orphan.
Marinette was only eleven years old, the day that she learned the details of their deaths. They were on the trapeze, performing the closing act of the Gotham show. Dick was up on the platform, too young for the stunt they were performing. The ropes were cut halfway through. John reached out to catch Mary, going through the motions of a trick they had performed so often it would have felt as natural as breathing for them. John caught Mary. John's ropes snapped. They both plummeted, clipped the edge of the safety nets, going too fast, hitting the ground too hard, dead before the ambulances got there. Marinette couldn't help but picture the bodies of mangled birds that died when they hit the window too hard. Marinette pictured broken bones and broken hearts and in her grief, the only person she wanted was Dick. As much as she was hurting, she knew his grief overwhelmed her. Marinette needed to comfort him. Marinette knew her friend needed her.
Yet, no matter how hard Marinette tried (and she tried so hard, because it was the only thing that gave her any relief from the burning pain in her chest) she couldn't get in touch with Dick. Haly told her that Dick was taken in by Gotham's CPS, and they refused to provide any information about him to the circus. Although the circus was his second home, Gotham refused to return Dick. Haly's Circus was deemed an unfit home. Dick would never be returned.
Every day for months Marinette called Gotham's CPS and begged for any information about her lost friend. She pleaded with them that all she wanted to do was be able to send him a letter. But each time, she was refused.
Three months passed, and by the end of those three months, Marinette felt like her heart had been drained out of her. She had lost Mary and John Grayson, who had taught her not only trapeze but how to overcome fear and be brave. She lost Dick too, but in a different way. There was no way to get in contact with Dick again, and Marinette knew that couldn't spend her whole life mourning the friendship she had lost. She knew that she had to accept it and move on. Still, Marinette never stopped missing him.
Marinette could never quite forget Dick. She remembered him every time she got up on the trapeze, every time she made a new patch that she couldn't send to him, every time she sampled a new pastry for the bakery that she knew he would have loved, every time something big happened and her first instinct was to send a letter about it to him.
Five years without him and Dick still lingered on the edge of her mind. Five years without him and Marinette knew that she would never be at peace until she saw him again.
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