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#i have. more thought about kyle and faith. complicated one just like him
scorchedhearth · 2 years
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i don't know enough about the other characters kyle interact with and their stance on religious beliefs to talk about them, so ill talk about what i know: jason saying to kyle's face 'in god we thrust' with a pointed look after making sure to call him a wannabe god multiple times
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triplexdoublex · 4 years
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12:05
Pairing: Colson x Reader
Warnings/tags: smut, cheating, drug use, mentions of foot-fetish, mild blood (nose bleed)
Welcome to my first Colson Baker (MGK) fic. I used a lot of lyrics and lyric references in this. My goal was to make it seem like this toxic relationship and coversations between his and reader are what inspired a lot of his songs.
*************************
“C’mon get up,” your best friend Shawnie nudges you, pulling back the sheets of her bed she’s been kind enough to share with you since the breakup. “It’s almost noon,” 
“Grmmphf,” you groan tugging the sheet back over your head.
“I’m not gonna let you stay in bed all day again, crying over ‘Machine Gun Kelly’,” she says as she raises the shades on the window; the midday sun bright rays beaming through the thin sheet over your head. “It’s been three weeks now, get up. We’re gonna have a girls day.”
“He has a real name, you know,” you mumble from under the sheet. “Colson”
“Oh yes, Colson the compulsive cheater, how could I forget?” She rips back the sheet a final time.”How was he dumb enough to get caught this time?” She emphasizes, knowing it's not the first time you’ve caught him cheating. “Lipstick on his shirt? Hickey?” She taps the bed, “I mean it! Up! I'm taking you out.”
“Ughhh fine,” you prop yourself up. “Nudes on his phone actually. Found them his first night back from tour.” You swing your legs over the edge of the bed with a sigh. “ Do you know that dumbass really tried to convince me they were mine, like I dunno what my own pussy looks like!” You let out a half- amused chuckle.
“Wow, that’s pathetic even for him,” Shawnie rolls her eyes. “I don’t understand why you keep going back to him?”
“I dunno — it’s just..” you rake your hands over your face and into your hair. “I can’t explain it --it’s complicated. You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me,” Shawnie responds, taking a seat next to you on the edge of the bed. “Seriously, I’m listening. I just wanna help you get over him. I hate seeing you hurt all the time.”
“I feel like I’m addicted to him, like he’s my drug or something,” you admit.
“Except what fun is a drug if you can’t even get high off it and only experience the comedown?” She retorts.
“See that’s just the thing — you don’t know him like I do — there is a high,” you smile as fond memories flood back. “When it’s just me and him, when he’s just ‘Colson’, he makes me feel like I’m on top of the world. He treats me like a princess, he makes me laugh, he makes me feel good about myself, and OH MY GOD the sexxxx!” You whine, “You know I always talk about how good it is,” you laugh. “For real our sexual chemistry is just something I never thought I’d experience with anyone. He makes me feel so comfortable and open and unashamed of the things I’m into, and he shares a lot of the same desires. Everything with him is perfect... until tour starts up again”
“I can understand why all that’s important to you, but what about being faithful? Isn’t that important to you too?” Shawnie questions.
“Of course it is, that’s why I keep breaking up with him! And at first I hate him, I really do. I swear to myself I’ll never even talk to him again, but as the hurt wears away, I start craving him again,” A tear rolls down your cheek. “And then I start questioning myself like was I too hard on him? What do I expect from someone who’s living that rockstar lifestyle, getting high and drunk every night with gorgeous women just throwing themselves at him, ya know?”
“No, that is not your fault, you cannot be held responsible for him giving into temptations on the  road!” Shawnie exclaims in a motherly tone. “If he truly wanted to be faithful to you he would.”
“In Colson’s words he ‘fucks up when he’s fucked up’.” you defend him.
“Well maybe he shouldn’t get fucked up if he can’t keep his dick in his pants!” She expresses loudly.”Don’t make excuses for him... Now come on I’m taking you out today; my treat.” 
“Shawnie, really you don’t have to do that. I’ll be fine”
“Too late I already booked us appointments at the spa, and —” her voice then  shifts to a fast whisper “I may have set up a blind date for you with one of Gabe’s friends Kyle for later on tonight!” She finishes with a cheesy grin.
“Shawnie!!!” You gasp.
“Relax, I’ll be there with Gabe too. It’ll be a double date. We’re meeting at Club Hell at eleven. Now get up and get ready before we're late to our appointment.” 
‘Hell… how fitting. That’s exactly what this nights gonna be,’ you think to yourself. You’ve seen Shawnie’s boyfriends friends before and they’re not exactly your type.They’re  
just a bunch of preppy frat boys who’s penny loafers and crisp button down shirts scream ‘trust fund baby’ and ‘my dads a lawyer’.
*************************
In the passenger seat on the way home from the spa  you look down at your bright pink toes and can’t help but frown.
“What’s the matter?” Shawnie asks, nudging you with her elbow as she drives. “Do you not like the color?”
“No, no. It’s not that. I love the color, and thank you so much for taking me to get them done, it’s just that Colson always used to take me — the man’s a sucker for a fresh pedicure,” you answer smirking to yourself as you recall his peculiar kink.
“That is more than I needed  to know,” Shawnie’s eyes go wide while keeping them fixed on the road.
“Oh please like you don’t know every detail of our sex life already,” you say tapping her leg playfully.
“But feet is where I draw the line!” She exclaims, pointing a finger.
You let out a chuckle,“Well then I guess I shouldn’t tell you about the time he —”
“Blahhh blah blaaaa I can’t hear you!” Shawnie attempts to cover her ear closest to you with her shoulder, keeping her hands on the wheel, making you bust out laughing. “There’s that smile I miss, I knew it was still in there somewhere,” she smiles back at you. “ Seriously, fuck Colson and FUCK feet!” She laughs.
“I thought you didn’t wanna hear about that time,” you tease.
“What is wrong with you!!!”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you clutch your stomach in laughter, “I couldn’t pass up that opportunity, you set yourself up for that.” 
***************************
Unfortunately Kyle is pretty much exactly what you were expecting and not at all your type but after a few rounds of drinks you decide to make the best of the night and invite Kyle out onto the  floor to dance  — Shawnie and Gabe to follow, the four of you forming a small circle. Not even five minutes into dancing you spot Colson entering the club with a tall brunette.
You grab Shawnie’s arm. “Look!” you say into her ear trying to be discreet about it.
“Oh my God, of all nights,” She rolls her eyes, “Is that the girl?”
“I dunno I didn’t exactly see her face, remember?”
“Is everything okay?” Kyle interjects, looking confused.
“It’s nothing, just someone I used to know,” you answer, returning to dancing as Colson and the brunette disappeared into the crowd. You were determined to have a good night, if not for yourself than at least for Shawnie. She was trying her best to help you get over Colson and have a good time. 
****************
“Wow, they really pack this place huh?” You yell over the music as the floor starts to get crowded. And as if you spoke too soon one of your elbows collides into someone behind you. Immediately you spin around to apologize. “Oh shit, I’m sorr — Colson!”
“Ah fuck man, why are you here?” Colson rolls his eyes, realizing it’s you.
“I could ask the same thing! I’m tryna have a good night and you gotta show up running shit.”
“Who’s this?” Colson’s date looks up at him annoyed before speaking to you, “Why you talking to my man?”
You throw your head back in laughter. “You’re man? Ha! You’ve got a lot to learn honey. Colson likes to run around. Colson’s everyone’s man! 
“Nah, c’mom,chill, chill,” Colson blocks his date with his arm as she tries to step to you. 
Shawnie reaches for you, pulling you back towards her by your shirt. “Let’s all be adults about this.”
“Fine!” you twist from her grasp. “Just stay away from me and I’ll stay away from you!” You shout at Colson before marching over to the bar. You need another drink. Your friends follow behind and Kyle sits awkwardly in the bar stool next to you. “Sorry about that, that was my ex, wasn’t exactly planning on seeing him here tonight.”
“No worries, seems like a total douche anyways.” Kyle responds.
“Yeah, something like that,” you answer in a daze staring into the crowded dance floor where you find Colson’s sky blue eyes locked on you from across the room. He watches you over the shoulder of his date, her back turned towards you.
“Can I buy you a shot?” Kyle offers.
“Uhh, yeah sure,” you answer, not paying attention, your eyes still focused on Colson.
Kyle pays for the shot, tips the bartender and hands you your shot. You don't even look to see what it is before throwing it back in one gulp. “Come on let’s go dance,” you slam the empty shot glass and  grab Kyle’s hand pulling him onto the dance floor, positioning his back to Colson. You don’t know what kind of game Colson is playing, but you can play it too — your eyes still locked across the room.
When the song changes — Closer by Nine Inch Nails now playing through the club speakers — Colson takes his game to the next level, grinding with “his girl” without breaking eye contact with you. You can’t decide if he’s trying to make you jealous or make you want him. And you can’t decide for what reason you keep playing along but it’s not long before you find yourself rolling your body against your date, your stare letting Colson know two can play this game.
“Damn, girl!” Kyle exclaims, shocked by your sudden shift in demeanour, his hands making their way to your ass, making you cringe internally at his touch. But you keep up the facade letting him push and pull your bodies together on the dance floor as Colson’s glare intensifies. 
‘I wanna fuck you like an animal, I wanna feel you on the inside…’  The chorus starts and you know things are about to get turnt up. Colson’s head dips down, his eyes still glued to yours as he sensually licks a stripe up his date's neck. Quickly, you spin Kyle around leaning into him as you grind your backside against the zipper of his denim. You reach behind your head with one hand, lacing your fingers in the back of Kyle’s hair and pull his face into your craned neck, simultaneously inviting him to taste you and shielding his view of you and Colson’s fervid eye fucking. You feel guilty feeling Kyle grow hard against you, knowing allowing his sloppy mouthing of your neck is definitely leading him on.
“Five.” Colson mouths to you, holding up the same amount of fingers behind his dates back, then motioning with his head to the bathrooms. You check your watch, it’s 12:00 exactly.
Five  minutes pass and you see Colson excuse himself to the bathroom. Immediately you push you date away frantically, making up a lie about feeling light headed and needing to go get some water at the bar, but head straight to the bathrooms. Inside the one person bathroom you find Colson doing a key bump of coke by the sink.
“What do you want?” You ask, annoyed.
“Ain’t that the tight little black dress from the first night we were together?” he asks, sniffing and wiping at his nose, as he locks the door behind you.
“Is that what you brought me in here for, to ask if this was the dress from our first date? You roll your eyes hopping up to sit on the edge of the sink counter, your fresh pedicured feet with open toed shoes dangling down in front of you. 
“MMMmmm you get them done just for me, baby?”
“Fuck off Colson, I didn’t even know you were gonna be here tonight, otherwise I wouldn’t have come,” you quip, folding your arms across your chest in annoyance. “Are you done wasting my time, I’d like to get back to my date.”
“Bullshit!” Colson calls you out. “ Little lawyer boy out there ain’t even your type, I know it and you know it. Your girl set you up on a blind date didn’t she?” He says cocikly. He knows you too well.
“You don’t know shit, Colson,” you lie, jumping down from the counter and heading towards the door to leave.
“Pretty impressive performance out there though, I gotta give it to you — .” Colson steps forward his body between you and the door, backing you back up against the counter. “-- letting him lick and touch all over you —-” he lowers his head, his whiskey-infused breath cascading over your neck and chest and he continues to speak. “-- knowing dayummm well you wish it were me.”
“You need to let me go, Colson. We’re over! You cheated … AGAIN!” You remind him, and apparently yourself, your head involuntarily cocking to the side, opening up your neck to him, your body half ready to give into temptation despite your anger with him.
“I’ll admit I took advantage of you every night that I was on the road,” he speaks in an apologetic tone. But don’t think for a minute i’ma let you convince me that what we started is finished, or for a second that I wouldn't take a bullet to the head for you!” He presses a single knuckle to your temple, his blue eyes piercing though your soul “You know we both want this. I know we’ve had some hard times but you said that even if it took forever that you and me would be together.”
 “You’re insane” tumbles from you lips in a last ditch effort to keep up your guard even though the breathy way it escape your mouth sounds a lot more like “fuck me.”
“Ok, yeah, I’m insane… but you the same!” He says, aggressively pointing at you and pressing his forehead to yours, his lips mere centimeters from your own.
You bite your lip; your guard, your walls, and common sense crumbling down around you. “We’re insane — both of us,” you laugh ,a single tear sliding from your eye. “I guess that’s just the way it goes.” You punctuate your words against Colson’s eager lips with a kiss.
There’s no turning back now, your fingers hurriedly undoing the buttons on the placket of his pink devil shirt as his hungry mouth devours kiss after kiss until you can barely breathe, his hands cupping your face so tight. He tastes of weed and whiskey, but you welcome the nostalgic flavor on your tongue. You slide his now open shirt off his shoulders, and let your hands trail down his tattooed torso. 
“Fuck, I’ve missed this,” he growls breaking the kiss, quickly lifting you back onto the counter, and letting his shirt fall to the floor. Nestling his face into your neck and hair, he breathes you in as if his memory is bottling up your scent for later.
“Colson,” you whine needily. Desperate to feel the heat of his mouth connect with your flesh, you rake a hand through his tousled bleach blonde locks, pushing down on his head until you feel his wet tongue begin to lap at your clavicle. You lean back against the mirror in pleasure as his tongue writes a sonnet across your neck and chest. He spreads your legs with his knee, your tight black dress inching up your thighs the wider your legs go. His hand slides up the expanse of your inner thighs to your core. Hastily, he pushes your panties to the side, the tips of his pretty painted fingers toying with your clit. The faster he rubs the faster and more sporadic your movements and breathing become, your body begging to be fucked. “Uhhh, Fuck me!” Your words echo your body’s pleas.
“Mmmmhh, he lets out a throaty rumble. “Thought you’d never ask,” he smirks, reaching for the delicate waistband of your black lace panties. He quickly pulls them down, struggling when they get snagged on the stiletto heel of one of your shoes. “Fuck it,” he laughs leaving them stuck in exchange for undoing his cherry red belt. With his belt undone he upzips his dark denim jeans pulling them and his ethika boxers down in one motion, springing himself free.
Wrapping his arms around your thighs he yanks you towards him, your ass teetering on the edge of the counter. With a hand behind each knee he shoves your legs back, bending you into one of his favorite positions; folded in half, legs up by your head. He loves how deep he can get like this. 
Still holding your legs back, he bends down, lowering his face to your core, tasting you. 
“Uhhhhh, Fuck, Cols,” you whine with eyes squeezed shut, griping his hair as he moves his tongue in a wide stripe from the bottom up, pausing to focus his attention on the sensitive bud at the top. 
“Ummghmm,” he hums against you before lifting his head. “No time for this right now” he says with glossed lips “but God, I had to taste you again.”
He removes one of his hands from your legs and grabs himself, bringing the tip to your entrance. Quickly, he slides it back and forth through your wetness before pushing in, a low gravely moan falling from his lips as he bottoms out. 
“Shit… Fuck...Oh my God!,” You slap a hand over your mouth.
“Nah, ain’t nobody gonna hear you over the music out there, baby” he says brushing your hand away from your mouth and replacing it with his lips, as he thrusts.
You moan into his mouth and he moves his lips lower, kissing down your neck, so he can hear your pleas of “Harder”. He obliges driving his hips forward with more force, and quickens his pace, the back of your head banging  against the mirror so hard, you swear the both of you are about to have seven years of bad luck. But you don’t care, the slight curve to his perfect cock ramming repeatedly into your g-spot. 
“Feels so good , uhhh right there. Yes!”  You scream out.
“Mmm, yeah you gonna cum for me baby?” 
“Ssso close.” You know you're practically guaranteed to cum before Colson; the man could go all night, often making you cum two or three times before he’s done. But you don’t have that kind of time tonight in this tiny club bathroom with both your dates nearby. A few more hard thrusts and your orgasm begins to  peak in your abdomen, the feeling as surreal as the Dali tatt on his back your fingernails are raking down. “I — I’m Cumming! 
He keeps up his pace, chasing after his own release, groaning with each clench of your walls as you ride out the waves of pleasure.
Still not there yet, he quickly pulls out, grabs you up by your hair, and shoves his cock into your mouth.You can taste yourself as he rams his cock in and out of your mouth. “Yeah, love watching you getting your throat destroyed’” he grits between his teeth, watching in the mirror as he face fucks you. “Uhhgh, gonna —” he exhales heavily, filling your mouth as he holds your head in place. After the last drop is out he pulls you off him with a ‘pop’.
The silence is awkward as you both get dressed, nothing but heavy breathing in the air. “Ah, shit,” Colson breaks the silence, a slow trickle of blood coming from his nose.
“Sit, sit. I’ll get it,” you insist, hurriedly grabbing some toilet paper from the stall, as Colson takes a seat on the counter. You dab at the dripping blood and pinch his nose shut. “Here hold this, like this,” you say, guiding his hand to his nose. “You really gotta stop doing coke, ya know.” you say in a caring tone as you finish buttoning up his shit for him.
He gives you a  simple “thanks” with a genuine appreciative smile. “Guess we would get back out there,” he gets off the counter giving his nose a final wipe.
“Yeah, Shawnie’s gonna kill me when she finds out.”
“Shhh,” he shushes your lips with his finger. “The homies don’t gotta know.”
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braveclxrke · 4 years
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You're a constant in my world of changes and chaos.
Written for @malexweek​ 2020.
Day 5 - Day 5: Prompt "Do you regret it?"
Read the whole fic under the cut or read on Ao3
Preview
Do you regret it?" Michael asked.
"Regret what?" Alex asked, looking back down at Michael.
"Letting me stay in your shed?" Michael asked. Alex frowned, his eyebrows pulled together. Michael stood up from the chair, walking around the room for a second before ending up by the window, looking out. "I mean if you'd never offered it, none of this would have happened, you probably would have had a normal life," Michael said. "If you'd never known about the aliens, your life would have been a hella a lot easier," Michael said, turning around the face Alex, leaning against the windowsill
"Your right, my life would of be a lot simpler if I didn't know about the aliens, about project Shepard," Alex admitted. Michael gave a small sniffle, nodding his head in agreement."But then I wouldn't have known you," Alex continued, making his voice sound stronger.
End of Preview
Alex sat next to Flint's bed, looking down at his brother who was covered in wires and other medical equipment. Flint looked younger, his body looking small and fragile in the white hospital bed. Alex rested his elbows on his knees, holding his head in his hands. Alex heard a knock on the door, Alex didn't move for a second, trying to muster the energy. Alex looked up to see Michael walking into the room, holding his hat by his waist.
"How's he doing?" Michael asked, coming to stand at the end of Flint's bed, looking down at him.
"Pretty much the same," Alex said, his voice monotone. Alex leant back in his chair, his shoulder aching from tensing them. "Kyle said he should wake up soon but he's not sure when, then he'll be able to see the real damage," Alex continued. Flint had been in the hospital for a few weeks now, still in a coma after what Max had done at the CrashCon.
Michael nodded, shifting on his feet. He walked over to the chair opposite Alex, slumping down. Alex kept his eyes on his brother, feeling some of the tension in his body lessen as Michael sat in the room. "Hows...hows Greg?" Michael asked.
Just like that, the tension was back, Alex took a large breath. "Honestly..." He started shaking his head from side to side. "I don't know," He admitted. Greg had been quiet, moving around Alex's house like a lost soul, "He says he's okay but he just killed his father so" Alex bluntly said.
"Your father too," Michael followed up with, his eyes on Alex.
It was true; Alex's dad was dead, Jesse Manes was dead. Alex wasn't sure if it was because of the stress of the events or if something was wrong with him but he didn't feel much about the death. That wasn't completely true Alex told himself, sometimes he looked at Flint; barely alive in a hospital bed, and Greg; conflicted with guilt and shame, and Alex felt a rage in his chest for Jesse Manes, a deep desire to be the one who finally shot him. Yet, there were other days when Alex thought about his father, and he had to use all his will power to fight back tears, Alex refusing to shed tears for his father. "I guess," Alex sighed.
Michael nodded, leaning forward on his chair more as well, "You doing okay?" He asked, his voice quiet and soft. Michael had popped in most days to see Alex, sometimes bring coffee and food. Sometimes he left straight away, sometimes he stayed for a while. Currently, it was the only thing Alex looked forward to in the day, a brief moment of peace amongst the chaos.
Alex thought the question over for a moment, "My dad managed to indoctrinate Flint with his bigoted views and I have no idea If I can undo it," He confessed, the daunting task of having to stop Flint from excusing his fathers wish to kill the aliens still resting heavily on Alex's shoulders, "But that might not even be an issue if Flint never wakes up," Alex said, his voice catching in his throat, almost choking on the words. "And now I have to help create a military cover-up to protect my brother who killed my father," Alex finally finished. "So 'am I doing okay,' isn't the easiest question to answer," Alex looked over at Michael, who was nodding, his face screwed up in concern. Alex wasn't sure how he was. Some times he woke up with a weight on his chest, hundreds of question drowning his mind. Then other days he woke up completely numb, no emotions to be found.
Michael sighed, shaking his head a little, "I'm sorry, for what Max did to Flint-"
"Don't," Alex said. He noticed how harsh his voice sounded, and by the look on Michael's face, he took Alex's comment to heart. Alex took in a deep breath. "It's okay, Max was just protecting himself, his family," Alex said, trying to pull a smile on his face.
"I don't know if he was," Michael confessed. Alex frowned, but the look on Michael's face told Alex right now wasn't the time to question him about that.
Alex gave a sour laugh, "I use to think my life was complicated when I was younger," He said.
Alex leaned back on the chair and looked up at the ceiling. "Do you regret it?" Michael asked.
"Regret what?" Alex asked, looking back down at Michael.
"Letting me stay in your shed?" Michael asked. Alex frowned, his eyebrows pulled together. Michael stood up from the chair, walking around the room for a second before ending up by the window, looking out. "I mean if you'd never offered it, none of this would have happened, you probably would have had a normal life," Michael said. "If you'd never known about the aliens, your life would have been a hella a lot easier," Michael said, turning around the face Alex, leaning against the windowsill
"Your right, my life would of be a lot simpler if I didn't know about the aliens, about project Shepard," Alex admitted. Michael gave a small sniffle, nodding his head in agreement."But then I wouldn't have known you," Alex continued, making his voice sound stronger.
Michael gave a short joyless smile. "Small price to pay for a normal life,"
Alex didn't even have to think about the hypothetical situation, he already knew the answer. "A price I wouldn't be willing to pay," He said. Michael looked up from the ground in surprise, and Alex could have sworn Michael's eyes look glassier. Alex gave Michael a smile, probably the first he'd given in days that wasn't forced. There was much about his life that Alex would change, but Michael wasn't one of them. "If I could go back to that day when I found out about the aliens and you, I wouldn't change it," Alex paused, "Not if it meant losing you," He admitted.
Michael gave a small smile, but a smile it was. Michael walked back over to the chair walking past it and deciding to sit in the one right next to Alex, "If anyone can help Flint, it's you," He said, nodding towards the Manes brother lying in the bed.
Alex smiled again, he wasn't sure it was true, but somehow having Michael's faith was enough. Alex realised that he'd been spending the whole time complaining about his own trouble when Michael had enough of his own. "How's Max doing?" Alex asked, looking over at Michael.
Michael thought about the question, how was Max doing? "He's healing, getting check up's with Kyle," Micheal said, trying to keep his voice hopeful, "But uhh," Michael shifted on the seat, straightening his leg and flattening his jeans for a moment. "But I think something's up, what he did to Flint really took a lot out of him," He admitted. Alex gave a thoughtful look at Michael, his eyes full of kindness. Michael didn't really want to get into what was happening with Max right now and Alex seemed to pick up on it, just giving him a small nod.
"And Maria?" Alex asked.
Michael hadn't seen much of Maria lately after they'd broken up they decided to give each other some space. However, Michael had heard from Isabel how she had been, "She's getting better, still a bit weak but alive so that's what counts," He said, watching as Alex gave a relieved smile. Michael knew that Alex felt guilty about not seeing the rest of the group that much this week, but they all understood. Alex's plate was as full as anyone's else now and even if he didn't want to admit it, or even didn't know right now but he was also grieving.
"Do you regret it?" Alex suddenly asked, repeating Michael's question from earlier. "Building that bomb?" He asked. "It almost killed you, your whole family, I mean your whole species," Alex said, "Put Maria in the hospital," He said, his voice full of guilt. Michael knew that wasn't Alex's fault, Maria knew it too, the only person that did blame Alex for that was Alex.
"If I wouldn't have built it Helena would have killed you," Michael said. He knew that was unlikely, that it was actually Flint that threatened Alex's life but Michael didn't want to add to Alex's pain right now.
Alex shook his head, "But no one else would have been in danger?" he questioned, "Everyone would have been safe,"
Expect you , Michael thought. Michael thought about deflecting the question like he normally would but Alex deserved more than that, he deserved the truth. Michael took in a large breath. "When Helena asked me to build her bomb I didn't even ask what it was for, because I didn't care," He said, looking over at Alex, "I just wanted you safe," Alex seemed to examine Michael's face like he was searching to see if Michael was lying. "So in case I'm not making myself clear, no I don't regret it," Michael said with a small smile. "No matter how crazy and complex we make each other's life we'd both rather have the other in it, how romantic we are," Michael joked, gaining a small laugh from Alex. The pair fell silent again.
"I don't think we make each other's lives more complicated," Alex abruptly said, he leaned forward on his knee's looking over at Michael. "I think we've both got complex lives but..." Alex seemed to be thinking over his words like he always did. "...If anything you make my life more relaxed?"
Michael gave a small laugh "Did you forget I got you kidnapped?" He said,
Alex looked over at Michael, a playful smile on his face. "That was technically my family's fault," He joked. The smile dropped from Alex's face a little, causing Michael to lean forward with concern. "But...everything that's gone down this year, even when I was a kid, I don't think I'd gotten through it without you," Alex confessed, keeping his eyes down facing the floor.
"Neither would I," Michael agreed, "I know I haven't always made it easy but you've always been there for me, which I've never thanked you for," Michael said. Michael had accused Alex of walking away a lot; which was true, but Michael had come to realise that most of the time he was the one pushing him away. Yet Alex was always willing to help, even at great cost to himself.
"You don't have to thank me," Alex said with a simple smile. Alex looked back over at his brother, then at the hospital window, seemingly watching the sun as it started to set. Michael couldn't help but notice how the golden light made his eyes look like a dark copper.
Even with everything that had happened over the last week, after everything Flint had done to him, Alex was still here, sat by his bedside. That was just who Alex was; kind to the core. Michael opened his mouth to speak but the words didn't come forward. It had been a few weeks since Michael had heard Alex sign at the Wildpony, since he'd heard him sing about them. Michael had told Isabel that Alex and he had needed some time and it was true, he had just ended things with Maria and need to process all of that. However, over the last few days, Michael had found he'd run out of excuses not to be happy. "Remember your song?" Michael finally managed to say, his voice quiet. Alex looked over, his face a picture of surprise, he nodded. "When you asked if I'd come home?" Michael continued. Alex gave another nod. Michael looked over at Alex. Michael knew what he wanted to say, but he wasn't sure he could. They'd been down this road so many times and each time it led to pain and hurt, and Michael wondered how many chances they would get at this before their chances were up. They were different now, Michael told himself, they'd grown and worked and Michael hopped with everything he had that it was enough. "I think I'm ready to," Michael finally said. Alex's eyes grew wide, he blinked a few times, "If you are," Michael asked, still not sure where exactly Alex was. Alex just looked at Michael, his face unreadable. Michael started to feel regret building in his chest, getting so dense he almost choked on it.
A smile grew on Alex's face, causing the corners of his eyes to crinkle like they did when his smile was a reflection of true happiness, it was then Michael noticed how waterly they were, "Yeah, yeah I am," He said. Michael blew out a breath of relief, his own smile now matching Alex's. Alex gave a yawn sitting back on his chair. Part of Michael wanted to tell Alex to go home and get some rest but he knew it was pointless. Instead, Michael dragged his chair closer to Alex's until they were side by side touching. Michael got as comfortable in the chair as he could, leaning back. Michael closed his eyes, the only sound in the room was the steady beeping of the machines. It was then Michael felt a weight on his shoulder. He opened his eyes and looked down to see Alex had rested his head on Michael's shoulders, his eyes closed. Michael moved his arm closes to Alex, wrapping it around his shoulder, playing with the fabric of Alex's sweater. Alex settled his head back against Michael's shoulder, Michael planted a soft kiss onto of Alex's head before gently resting his head on Alex's. Michael closed his eyes as he felt Alex peacefully breathing behind him. Michael had many regrets in his life, and he was sure Alex had them too, but Michael could say with certainty that he never, and would never regret having Alex Manes in his life.
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kathyprior4200 · 3 years
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Heavenly Boss Episode Four: D.I.A.B.L.O.
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“Welcome the wackiest episode of the season! When Elves and Diablos clash over the fates of a fallen cherub trio, things sure do happen.”
Oh, hello. Docile here, welcome back to Heaven! I know things were a bit wild and confusing last time. Let me try and explain a bit.
 Apparently the first Heaven’s blessing company C.H.E.R.U.B. had been under the guidance of one of my previous bosses, Kiva. I don’t know why anyone would approve of her, other than she’s famous for her singing in both Heavens. Instead of spreading faith and love, she wanted more fame and a chance to create her own world on Earth. She briefly used the cherubs’ powers to revive certain people on Earth and kill off others deemed “unworthy” in God’s eyes. There is a good reason why no one should bring back the dead. Even C.H.E.R.U.B. and my company E.L.F. know that would only cause overpopulation, war, and an alteration of history. It broke my heart when we had to reverse the damage Kiva had done. In the process, we freed C.H.E.R.U.B. from Kiva’s influence, Tirred from her influence and sent the dead back to the other side. We also had to erase the memories of the event from the mortals for obvious reasons. Thankfully, Deerie just straight up banished Kiva and her group…I heard they got arrested on Earth, but I have a feeling they may come back.
 Tirred’s been experiencing a few struggles with getting over the event. He had given into his desire for more status and like many angels in Heaven, he tends to see demons as “lesser than.” He’s being monitored under supervision for a bit just in case, but I think he can fix up his attitude…mostly.
 Recently, I got an update on how C.H.E.R.U.B. is doing. They had failed to save the life of a greedy inventor and were banished to Earth. I have a bad feeling that they’ll get corrupted in Hell and return for revenge against their I.M.P. rivals. I’m all for keeping I.M.P. in line to try and stop their horrible mass murders, but fighting fire with fire usually doesn’t end well. Although I think that indigo sheep, Collin, has the purest heart of the three.
 So far, we’ve been doing business in Heaven as usual: record keeping on human life, plus spreading God’s words of good faith (and trying to leave out the bad messages of “ditch your loser friends who you can’t use.”) There’s a difference between leading cooperatively and leading selfishly. True leadership requires lifting others up as well as yourself. I guess our Heavenly Father doesn’t trust anyone else due to Lucifer trying to take His throne all those centuries ago. Paperwork is always tedious but it must be done. I know our business tithers between legal and illegal but we’ll deal with any consequences that may arise. My job is my passion and my employees are like my family.
 Right now, my team and I are discussing some ways to meet and collaborate with C.H.E.R.U.B. I think they need some guidance on properly interacting with humans. Plus, I think Sunna and I are tempted to give those cute cherubs some hugs. Truthfully, I hope we can get to them before they “sink further down,” if you catch my drift. Ideally, C.H.E.R.U.B. could stay on Earth and continue protecting humanity. Or we could provide them sanctuary in our Heaven. The first option seems more likely due to both Deerie’s rules and interdimensional complications. It’s very rare for an individual to travel to the parallel universes…and Earth is in the middle of all the Heavens and Hells!
 But hey, surely it’s worth a try, right?
 Sunna was peacefully sleeping on one of the chairs around the smooth table at E.L.F. headquarters. The elves were seated in their spots with Docile at the head of the table.
 “Alright guys,” he said. “This is a very important mission. With Lord Gabriel’s help, I’ve pinpointed C.H.E.R.U.B.’s location to be in a forest near a lake, not too far from that inventor’s old mansion.” He pointed to certain spots on a holographic map in front of them. “It appears they briefly stayed in a church for sanctuary last December and are now trying to stay low. Gabriel said they had been helping other humans in secret but haven’t gotten rid of their desires for acknowledgement, praise and material gains.”
 “Hold up,” said Tirred with his usual yawn. “I thought that C.H.E.R.U.B. never asks for any fees.”
 “That is true, but I’m talking about what they seek. The three cherubs were raised in a culture that values perfection, reward and the pursuit of happiness…”
 Tirred coughed, “Americans,” which earned him a glare from his boss.
 Docile continued, “Even Heaven’s citizens have flaws of their own. Selfishness exists in everyone, no matter how altruistic they try to be. C.H.E.R.U.B. knows that if they spread love, they can also feel good about themselves. But they always expect something in return for their work. Money, praise, God’s grace, whatever it is. The point is, they never help others just for the sake of doing so.”
 “That actually makes sense,” Timmid added, brushing back her short white hair. “I wonder if they were so quick to collaborate with us because they just wanted us to promote their company.”
 “Which is what we’re randomly doing instead of, you know…worrying about ourselves in our reality!" Tirred added, waving his hands for emphasis. “We shouldn’t have to care about some other cheesy company.”
 Sunna happily mumbled “cheese” in her sleep.
 “You have a good point Tirred, but this is different,” Docile elaborated. “C.H.E.R.U.B. may be from another realm, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t at least try to help them out. Remember that we help humans and angels alike when we can.”
 “We can’t help everybody,” Tirred said. “Especially those humans and demons who…”
 “We’re not talking about them,” Docile added, holding up a hand. “There’s no need to be a downer when I’m trying to spread light onto a dire situation here, okay?”
 Tirred crossed his arms. “I’m helping you see the reality of things. The other angelic orders won’t approve of this. Especially since traveling to the parallel realms is forbidden!”
 “And the reality is that we will continue on with this mission because it’s the right thing to do,” Docile argued, standing his ground. “It is our job to help those in need, no matter how bizarre the situation may be. So for your sake, I suggest you keep yourself in line.”
 Tirred grumbled and backed away slightly. Docile sighed and straightened up.
 “Plus, we aren’t traveling to the other Heaven. We’re going to Earth. That’s where C.H.E.R.U.B. is.” He glanced over at the large leather bound Bible that allowed them to travel to Earth. He didn’t know how much longer Azrael and Samuel would allow him to keep it, but hopefully a bit longer.
 “Won’t we need disguises again?” Timmid asked. “Or Sunna?”
 “I think we’ll be alright with going in our true forms,” said Docile. “But remember to lay low and stick together. After all, C.H.E.R.U.B. will be in their regular forms…might as well meet angel to angel.”
 “Okay,” said Timmid.
 There was a knock on the door, which startled Sunna awake. “Guys, do you hear that?”
 “That was the door,” called Timmid.
 Sunna walked over and opened it. “Hello,” she said as two men entered. One was short and fat, the other was tall and thin.
 “Are those…supervillains?” asked Timmid.
 “More like superheroes!” called the thin man. He had an elegant white mustache and white-gray skin. He wore a white top hat with a purple brim and old time glasses with purple lens. His suit was white with a large purple cross in the center, the arrow pointing up. His boots were purple and his cape was light blue.
 The squat man beside him wore a white suit with thin blue lines on it with a beige collar. He wore a white bowler hat with a blue trim and white rimmed glasses with teal lens. His mustache was black and his skin was white-gray. Both men had halos and white wings.
 “I’m Straight Nate!” greeted the thin man. “Craftsman of all things straight and narrow! This is my partner Kyle Kipton!”
 “Nice to meet you both!” Docile said, shaking their hands. “How’d you get into Heaven?”
 Nate explained. “I wasn’t always a young man. Kyle and I ran Kyle-Nate Tools, a local shop for farmers. Earlier today, we were giving food, eggs and farming equipment to the poor. We could’ve saved so many. We both got involved in our job and felt so much younger than before. It was marvelous! Turns out that Lyle Lipton’s anti-aging machine in his factory was sending out rays that turned us younger and younger by the day. Our customers soon grew suspicious when we suddenly appeared as children. Both of us were almost handed over to police. We raced toward Lyle’s place, hoping to get back to our normal ages. But before we could reach him, the mob had cornered us with torches and pitchforks. We refused to give them what they wanted and they…killed me. It was a miracle that Lyle’s machine secrets didn’t get out. Everyone believed the mobsters to be crazy. Thanks to some angel magic, no one else sought to be young again.”
 “I died shortly after Nate,” said Kyle. “Almost thought about taking my life, but Covid 19 did that for me.”
 “Sorry,” said Sunna.
 “Brother bucking Covid ruins everything!” Docile spat.
 “Wait,” Tirred asked. “If you turned into children, why do you look so…”
 “Wise?” Kyle finished with a shrug. “Who knows? Age doesn’t matter for saints up here. We stay the same age as when we died on Earth like the sinners do in Hell.”
 “Well that story was a load of rubbish,” Tirred scoffed.
 “Don’t be rude,” Sunna chided.
 “It’s alright,” Nate said. “Kyle and I are trying to figure out what do to next now that we’re in Heaven. I wonder if there are any farms around that could use our help.”
 “I’ve never heard of farms in the sky before,” Kyle said.
 “Well Heaven has a whole society like Hell does, so schools, farms, houses, pretty much anything from all time periods exist here,” said Docile.
 “Have you heard of the Canadians?” asked Sunna. “They are anti-cannibals, against eating meat in all forms. A bunch of French-speaking vegetarian cultured folk. A bit eccentric. They make the best maple syrup and host the best air hockey games. You know, literally in the air…”
 Nate rolled his eyes. “People are so quick to judge these days.”
 On a nearby television screen, a commercial showed a dark teal skinned elf wearing a black outfit and a black hat, twirling a cane. “Are you looking for work to make solemn stories and formal films? Well call me at Sully Sirius’ Serious Idea Studios, where you can create art and get rich! The one who makes the best creation will receive two free tickets for Woo-Hoo Land! But still…I have standards for heaven’s sake!” A brief clip showed Sully selling holy water bottles at the theme park.
 “Wierdo,” muttered Kyle.
 “Well, I wish you two the best of luck up here,” said Docile. “Thanks for stopping by.”
 “Anytime,” said Nate. Nate and Kyle waved goodbye before exiting out the door.
 Docile turned to a winged cherub deer.
 “You think we’ll succeed in our mission?”
 “Yeah, oh yes, yes, yes!” Doe-Doe trilled genuinely, typing notes on an IPad while wearing yellow overalls. “Go beyond the rules and you do you! Yeah!”
 0 0 0
 Docile, Tirred and Timmid stood outside in front of their headquarters building, the heavenly sky shining down above them. The white building and the golden wing designs attached to it shone brightly in the light. Tirred briefly glanced enviously beyond a wrought iron golden gate toward the direction of the silver Holy City surrounded by glowing halos. Timmid took a deep breath and flipped through the Bible until coming across a passage to create a portal to Earth. After she chanted and drew a teal blue sigil with chalk, a gap opened up. A fearful Timmid led the way through, while Docile and Tirred followed.
 The trio arrived at the vast meadow surrounded by forest trees and the shining lake. The sun shone brightly in the sky while a few white clouds dotted the horizon. Several birds chirped on nearby hanging branches, while brown squirrels and rabbits hopped along the grassy plain.
 Docile sniffed the air deeply and sighed. “Nature truly is a wonderful thing. There’s something so genuine about Earth that makes it so…vast and beautiful.”
 Tirred rolled his eyes. “Heaven will always be the superior place. It has marvelous light, gold, angels and the Almighty of course.”
 “But the living world is unique in its own way. It’s the birthplace of all the saints and sinners. They make up the majority of the afterlife. Without this place, Heaven and Hell alike wouldn’t function the way they do now. No technology, no flare, no diversity. Our current worlds today are what some mortals call a “melting pot.” Different ingredients tossed together into one societal dish.”
 “Blast, boss! Enough with your metaphorical mumbo-jumbo,” Tirred sighed, briefly tugging his pointed ears in frustration. “Do you even realize what could happen if we meet with other beings too long? Reality itself…”
 He imitated an explosion.
 Timmid laughed a bit. “Who’s spewing mumbo-jumbo now?” She playfully elbowed Tirred. “Relax, Tir. Docile knows what he’s doing. It’s risky but it’s for the greater good.”
 “Greater good, my ass,” he muttered.
 “If you wanna get your good ass kicked, then be my guest,” Timmid wiggled her eyebrows playfully as Tirred turned red in the face.
 Docile summoned his golden staff and slowly moved it in the air in front of him. The staff tip briefly glowed when he aimed it at a lower part of the hill. He spotted something small and white flying in the same direction. Docile mentioned for his coworkers to follow. They headed down the hill until they arrived at a white park bench. There were some passerby walking their dogs or chatting on their cell phones. Several women pushed strollers around, while a child tossed bread crumbs for the ducks. The paths were lined with streetlamps and red rose bushes.
 Just then, Docile spotted a flying boy and two winged sheep sitting close together on a bench. No one seemed to pay them any mind.
 “Bingo!” Docile grinned.
  The periwinkle sheep Collin sat and examined the park. The yellow sheep Keenie straightened up her yellow dress and red bow. Cletus sat in the middle in his reddish overalls, looking bored. Several white feathers fell off their wings and their halos flickered.
 “I don’t understand,” Cletus said dejectedly. “We’ve done all we can to make amends. We’ve saved people, gave them advice, and lived among the humans. Why can’t we go back?”
 Collin sniffed as tears started to trickle down his face. “Why can’t Deerie let us back? We were doing so well in Heaven. Our clients and the humans were always grateful for the work we did.”
 Keenie stamped one of her hooves. “It’s so not fair! Deerie didn’t even give us a chance. She just sent us here to suffer and rubbed it in our faces!”
 “If only that filthy imp leader didn’t blind me during the battle,” Cletus scowled. “Killing Lyle was just an accident. I was this close to eliminating them on the spot!”
 “Killing is a bad thing,” Collin mentioned, straightening up. “Our job is never to kill, but to save and spread love!”
 “Like I said before Collin, you still joined us in shooting at our rivals,” said Cletus. “Eliminating the threat is sometimes necessary.”
 “We also have Exorcists for a reason,” Keenie added. “To eliminate all those shitty sinners and keep both Earth and Heaven safe from them. Those Hell table scraps are just as bad as them, if not worse!”
 “W-w-whatever happened to ‘thou shalt not kill?’ ’Love thy neighbor?’” Collin asked, flying up and staring hard at his companions.
 The cherubs hovered in the air.
 “Those demons aren’t our neighbors,” Cletus told Collin.
 “I know that, but still, we could’ve at least taken the fight outside the opera theater! Oh and maybe saved that singer, too.”
 “When the imps were in the way, right there?” Keenie asked. “We had to watch over Lyle, too.”
 “We had to save his life at any cost,” Cletus said, leaning in.
 “B-b-but we didn’t, didn’t we?” Collin finished. “We all played a part in our fate and now in a few days, we’ll be down below facing our worst nightmares!”
 Collin broke down into hysterical sobs, as Keenie wrapped him in a hug. “Oh Collin…”
 The cherubs flew off toward the open meadow, leaving the park behind and looking around.
 Just then, E.L.F. made their entrance in front of them, floating down gracefully on white wings in their own beams of sparkly light. Docile was in the center, Tirred to his right, Timmid to his left. Spiked white halos hung over their heads. C.H.E.R.U.B. stared quizzically at them.
 Keenie glared. “Go away, demons! We’re tired of seeing you in your silly costumes!”
 “You here to m-m-mock us some more?” Collin asked in anger.
 “We come in peace…” Docile began, but didn’t finish. Cletus let out a combination of mournful cries and yells to the sky, causing the nearby humans to glare at them and scatter away.
 “You won’t get away with this, I.M.P.! You’ll pay for what you did to us and the humans you slaughtered!”
 Cletus finished his cries when a sudden force knocked everyone backwards. They straightened themselves up in the air. The ground broke apart and a column of red, orange and yellow flames shoot up from the opening.
 E.L.F. and C.H.E.R.U.B. looked in wide-eyed terror at three small shadowy figures hovering forward through the flames. Three shadows with glowing yellow eyes.
 “You seek revenge and are thirsty for blood?” came a low choir of voices.
 The flames vanished, revealing a demonic trio. A pointed tail, sharp yellow teeth, a clawed hand holding a black Satanic book...
 “We can help satiate your desires…”
 The leader appeared, looking like a twisted version of Cletus. He had teal fluffy hair and pale white skin, his teeth sharp and yellow. His eyes were large and yellow with white sclera. He was chubby like Cletus but instead of angelic wings, he had small black bat wings with long red fingers within the flaps. He wore a dark blue undershirt, a black shirt collar and teal colored overalls, plus brown boots. Two reddish orange horns curved down to meet his chin. He put away his black Satanic book.
 The corrupted Collin counterpart took the appearance of a bulky anthropomorphic yellow ram. His furry hooves were tan colored with sickly yellowish tips. He wore a wine colored red suit with a black bow tie under his thick neck. His undershirt was orange with an upside down black cross in the center. Sheathed under a black belt was a gun, a dagger and a few other weapons. His teeth, eyes and face were all a dull yellow, although a few black dots rested under his left eye. Ogre-like ears stuck out around his head of thick black wool. Protruding in curves from his head were two thick crimson-colored ram horns with little lines running down the surface. Little black wings held him in the air.
 The last diablo was a blue anthropomorphic ram and Keenie’s dark counterpart. Her hooves were purple with dark green tips. Her dress was dark blue with a green bow around it. Her dress moved from blue to various shades of green and teal, becoming lighter at the ends. The hem of her dress was torn and gave the appearance of blue flames as part of the design. Black gloves covered her hands like an executioner’s. She grinned with yellow sharp teeth against a dark blue face. Her eyes had dark orange pupils, teal irises and white sclera. Her wild hair was a lighter shade of blue, moving like flames in the wind. Like her companions, she had black bat wings and curved red-orange ram horns. All the diablos could also grow pointed tails and retract them.
 The leader sneered. “Surely you’ve heard of us. You saw our commercial, didn’t you?”
 “What commercial?” Docile asked.
 0 0 0
A large Leviathan monster opened its mouth wide, revealing sharp teeth, a long slimy tongue and a dark throat. The camera zoomed into the darkness before a red light appeared at the end of the tunnel. A bleak world with a red sky was revealed. A futuristic city in the distance was tall, black and metal: Sin City. The ground was black as was the grass. There was a pandemonium capital building not too far away along with a variety of shops set in a dystopian world: Tiamat’s Treasure Things, Kali’s Corner, Xenomorph Labs.
 No Hazbin Hotel or I.M.P headquarters to be found.
 A sign read “Diablo Den” and pointed down. The camera moved to show an underground tunnel with torches on either side. An entire subculture of demons lived down within the sewers and damp tunnels. Metal waterproof houses were situated under fluorescent lights on the ceiling. The leader popped up on the screen.
 “Salutations! I’m Erebos! Welcome to Hell! Guess you must have done something evil to get here, and evil people deserve to give enemies special cruses!”
 The jingle began, with organs playing.
 “Does it make you want to yell?” asked Devvin, the yellow ram as a man was shown getting a promotion over a man dressed in rags.
 “When an enemy ends up well?” asked Dammna the blue ram female as a rapist was pardoned from his crime.
 “Do you frown from ear to ear?” sang Erebos as a man shot at several anti-LGBTQ protestors.
 “When your rivals don’t shed a tear?” they all sang as a bully in a baseball cap laughed as a kid cowered in a corner.
 “Locked up in a rut?” sang Devvin with a pose.
 “A foe seeking your gut?” Dammna sang and posed.
 “We can make them cold and dead!” sang Erebos.
 “Even give you their head!” They all did villain poses.
 “Cause here at D.I.A.B.L.O.!” they sang as “DIABLO” appeared in bloody letters surrounded by pitchforks and the trademark icon.
 “We’re the masters of destruction from down below!” sang Devvin as Cletus shot fireballs at a barbed wire fence, allowing prisoners of war to escape. Devvin led the way as Dammna waved a flag with a pentagram and “B.U.R.E.H.C” on it.
 “Cause here at D.I.A.B.L.O.!” they sang as the logo appeared again.
  “Just name your price and we’re good to go!” sang Dammna as Erebos gave a greedy grin at a human handing him a bag of gold.
 “Spreading sickness, chaos and hate!” Devvin sang as he and Dammna gave each other a high five with their hooves.
 “History altered and fate!” sang Dammna as atomic bombs went off in reverse as clocks ran backwards and forwards.
 “We do the dirty work for you!” sang Cletus as Devvin concocted a deadly virus and dropped it on coughing humans.
 “And stirring up world wars, too!” added Devvin as Dammna whispered something in a soldier’s ear, resulting in two armies fighting on the field.
 So sit right back…” sang Erebos before they all sang in discord, “…and let us curse a soul for you!”
 “Oh, we are the D.I.A.B.L.O.!”
 “How the primal chaos shall flow!”
 0 0 0
C.H.E.R.U.B. and E.L.F. just stood there, stunned.
 Just then, Blitzo, Moxxie and Millie entered through a portal onto the grass. Moxxie was trying not to fall, while Millie safely put away Stolas’ grimoire in a small black backpack.
 “Alright gang,” called Blitzo. “Apparently someone wants us to kill that ginger-ass tour guide we saw last time. Looks like he’s at Lyle’s old house jacking off and snatching Lyle’s old possessions.”
 Millie tried not to throw up. “This world is even crazier than ours!” Then she pulled out a dark sword and brightened. “Let’s keep on killin’ then!
 “Sir, please don’t tell Lyle any of this,” Moxxie pleaded. “You know he’ll get mad if we fail this mission.”
 “Oh I already sent him a text,” Blitzo grinned, holding up his phone. The text read “Off 2 kill tour intruder. Might want 2 sell ur stuff.” Moxxie face-palmed.
 “I’m already tired and we haven’t even made it there yet,” Moxxie complained.
 “Come on Mox, get your sweet imp ass moving,” Blitzo said. “We’ll be at his house before you can say…”
 The three imps came to the clearing and froze in their tracks.
 “Holy shit,” Blitzo breathed.
 At that very moment, all twelve creatures divided in the four separate groups locked eyes with each other, some on the ground, and some in the air. The sky darkened to an abnormal shade of indigo, the ground suddenly warm to the touch. The air itself shifted from stale, to hot, to cold and back again. A strange energy crackled through the air, like any moment the earth would collapse underneath them. A stag with bloodstained antlers reared up his hind legs and raced across the forest as lightning flashed in the sky.
 From inside the mansion, the tour guide and several people gazed out the window in awe through a telescope. The smiling man had the ginger bang over his eyes and wore a green suit and cap with dollar signs on it. He spoke too casually to the group as they took pictures on their phones.
 “And now you’ll spot several groups of tacky super-powered cosplayers about to begin an apocalyptic battle! The feuds between famous people and ordinary folk is a sight to behold!”
 0 0 0
“Who. The Fuck. Are They?!” Blitzo cried out, his voice echoing.
 “Oh no!” groaned Moxxie, pointing ahead. “Those are the…”
 “Imps!” Collin cried out, all three cherubs glaring at their rivals.
 “Cherubs!” Moxxie finished.
 “Diablos?!” Tirred asked.
 “Elves!” sneered Devvin.
 The intense stare-downs could have turned the universe upside down…which for a few moments, it did.
 After several minutes of grueling silence, the first one to speak again was none other than Blitzo.
 “Can someone tell me what the fuck is going on here?!”
 Cletus crossed his arms. “I’ll tell you what’s going on! Because of you three monsters,” he pointed at the imps, “We’ve been banished to Earth and are this close to meeting our doom down in your filthy world!”
 Blitzo just grinned smugly. “Welcome to Hell, baby. We hope you enjoy your stay.”
 Cletus turned red in anger. “Shut up! We may have been banished from Heaven all thanks to you, but there is no way we’re going to end up like you!”
 Erebos grinned and moved slowly toward the cherubs. “You sure about that?”
 He spoke in a bone-chilling whisper that made even Cletus forget his wrath for a moment. “It’s clear that you’ll never be allowed to return to Heaven. Why wish for something you can’t obtain anymore? The only thing you can do now…” he mentioned in the direction of the imps, “…is take back what you’ve lost.”
 Cletus glared at him. “I don’t need filthy demons to tell me what to do!”
 “Of course you don’t,” Erebos mentioned. “Your company was just trying to do the right thing. Why should you let those monsters stand in your way again?”
 “Stop!” called Docile. He flew gracefully in Cletus’ direction. “Don’t listen to that demon.”
 “You’re one too!” Cletus seethed, flinching back.
 “No, I’m an angel just like you,” Docile said. “That devil is trying to divert you away from your true path. Your company may have been banished, but you can still redeem yourselves and prove the other angels wrong! You’re already great at spreading positivity to those in need!”
 “Ha!” Millie called. “Just like how you cherubs failed to save the life of that old man.”
 “It was an accident, you emo slutty freak!” Keenie spat.
 “The past is then,” Docile continued to Cletus. “This is now. You still have time to prove your innocence. I believe there is goodness in almost everyone.”
 Collin flew up to the elf with wide shining eyes. “Y-y-you do?”
 Docile wrapped an arm around Collin. “I know it. It’s there, even when all hope seems lost.”
 Erebos snickered to Cletus. “You really gonna believe an inverted version of yourself and his subservient goblin fuck toys?”
 The cherubs and elves gasped.
 “That is so inappropriate!” Timmid called.
 “Kiss your ass, sissy,” Dammna taunted as Timmid flinched away.
 “Might wanna watch your words, blue bitch,” Millie growled to Dammna. “Just because we’re fellow demons, doesn’t mean I’ll let you pick on others like that.”
 “What’re you gonna do about it?” Dammna asked with a sneer. “Sing a murder jingle?”
 “My coworkers and I did, actually!”
 “I thought your song was very catchy!” Devvin praised.
 “Thank you!” beamed Millie. “Now get lost, wannabes!”
 But D.I.A.B.L.O. was far from done. Erebos spoke to Cletus. “Anyway…that deer cherub who kicked you out…she knew that you would fall. God doesn’t tolerate mistakes…thus those in Heaven now see you as just that, mistakes. How does it make you feel?”
 “Shut it, demon crap!” Keenie shrilled. She flew toward Erebos but Devvin held her back. She freed herself from his grip. Dammna flew beside Collin, who whimpered as she licked her lips.
 “Face it…the other cherubs wanted you three kicked out. Because you founded an illegal company that prided itself on saving human lives. You were getting famous for…not following the rules. Jealousy arose.”
 “How do you know all this?” Cletus asked.
 “We have our ways,” said Erebos. “Angels and demons going to Earth is mostly illegal…you know, changing of history, trauma and all.”
 He flew into Cletus’ face and the Cletus flinched back in disgust. Erebos made his way around Collin and Keenie as he talked. “You could’ve been good passive little sheep and stayed in Heaven. But you didn’t.” He ran a hand through Collin’s white wooly hair. “Because you wanted something more. Paradise wasn’t enough for you.”
 He grinned sinisterly at Keenie. “You were tired of being looked down upon by the more favorable members of your kind. Always searching for a way so that your…”
 He peered underneath her yellow dress, “…divine talents could be brought to light.”
 Keenie gave him a hard kick to the face, sending him back a bit. He scoffed in pain and rubbed his eye before straightening up and heading back toward Cletus. “And for a while, they did. But look where you are now. Fallen. Forgotten. Forced away from your home.”
 “He’s using you guys!” Tirred warned Cletus. “You can still protect humanity and earn God’s grace once again!”
 “No matter what you try to do, you’ll never be able to return. Becoming demons is your destiny!” Devvin said with a dark chuckle.
 “Listen to the elf angels,” Collin pleaded to his boss. “The demons are full of sin, but you know we can choose to not stoop down to their level. We can be better cherubs, improve our relations with humans.”
 “Right after we get rid of all those stinking demons!” Keenie scoffed, hands on her hips. “If we want C.H.E.R.U.B. to survive…”
 “Then I.M.P. must pay, right?” Dammna asked, finishing her sentence. Keenie found herself nodding, mouth agape.
 “Hey, we can hear you!” Moxxie yelled, drawing out his gun. He shot it upwards but the bullet was blocked by Tirred’s golden staff. The bullet rebounded away. Moxxie stared at Tirred in disgust. “Man you’re hard to look at.” Tirred just observed him coldly.
 “Forget about I.M.P.!” Timmid called to the cherubs. “Focus on redeeming yourselves. It’s the only way you can return home.”
 “Help other people for its own sake,” Docile advised. “You don’t need praise or rewards to keep doing the right thing.”
 “He’s right, Cletus,” Collin added. “Help humans move away from sin…and we will as well.”  
 “Ha!” barked Dammna. “Sin and flaws are present in everyone, even in little angels. It’s as natural as sex, eating, drinking and breathing. No one can resist the natural temptations…”
 Blitzo grinned. “I’d like to see you try and take us out,” he told Cletus. “Afraid we’ll make you a laughing stock again?” Cletus fumed.
 “I hope the Exorcists erase you from existence!” Keenie shrilled.
 Devvin appeared beside Keenie. “Why call on them, when you can plan your revenge yourself?”
 “Not gonna happen!” she yelled. Just after she said that, her halo flickered again. A small crack appeared on Cletus’ halo. Bits of feathers drifted from Colin’s wings.
 “This is not good,” Timmid whispered.
 Erebos grinned. “Only a matter of time now, cherubs! It’s time to begin your journey toward justice!”
 Back and forth, overlapping words, advice, taunts and threats pounded against Cletus. He felt like his head was being crushed by two opposing hands. Cletus grimaced, looking back and forth and around. He squinted and closed his eyes, curling into a ball.
 “The accident wasn’t your fault, boss!”
 “Help bring back C.H.E.R.U.B. to its former glory!”
 “You’re nothing but a crying baby and a failure. No wonder Heaven doesn’t want you guys.”
 “Thy company come, thy will be done, on Earth as it is in Heaven…”
 “Your demonic destiny is here!”
 “Give into sin!”
 “Spread the love for here and above!”
 “ENOUGH!”
 Cletus spread out his arms and legs. The force sent many of the individuals back, but they quickly recovered. Lightning flashed in the sky as the battle began.
  Although Blitzo, Moxxie and Millie couldn’t fly like everyone else, they made up for it by their array of weapons. Blitzo fired his tan flintlock pistol, the bullets rising in the air. One bullet hit Dammna’s hoof and she hissed in pain. Another grazed Timmid’s shoulder and she cried out.
 Docile waved his hand and three golden crossbows appeared in the cherubs’ hands.
 “It’s temporary,” he warned.
 Wasting no time, Collin, Keenie and Cletus fired sparkly golden arrows from their weapons at the two demonic groups. Cletus and Blitzo fired rounds at each other, both of them expertly dodging the other’s attacks. Erebos laughed as Docile landed punches at him, which he kept blocking.
 “Just as planned,” he grinned. “What a joy it is to see C.H.E.R.U.B. and I.M.P. duke it out.” The cherubs’ faces grew more vicious as they chased after the imps.
 “Stop fighting, C.H.E.R.U.B.!” Tirred called in concern, but her words fell on ignorant ears.
 Erebos landed a punch to Docile’s face and he quickly retaliated via a well-aimed uppercut. “You won’t get away with this,” Docile spat. “I don’t want to fight any of you guys but it appears I have no choice.”
 Timmid screamed as Devvin suddenly caught her in a headlock.
 “Ha! Surrender or she’s a goner!” called Devvin. Timmid struggled in vain against his grip. Docile glared as he aimed his staff at him, debating on what to do next.
 Zing!
 An arrow from Collin’s crossbow hit Devvin in the side, sending him screaming and flying off in the distance. He flew back in anger, but Timmid had already recovered. The cherubs’ golden crossbows vanished, the group now defenseless. Moxxie, Dammna, and Millie seized the opportunity to charge in, surrounding the cherubs. Timmid, Docile and Tirred blocked the path of the demons, holding them off with their golden staffs.
 “I can’t hold them much longer,” groaned a strained Tirred to the cherubs. “Flee while you still can!”
 “We’re not leaving you behind,” Collin said, determined.
 Cletus tried to flee, but Dammna grabbed hold of him and tossed him right back with a chuckle.
 Erebos arrived and smacked Tirred’s golden staff from his hands…he punched at the diablo’s chest in response. Docile landed several kicks to Moxxie, sending him stumbling to the ground.
 “Moxxie!” Millie cried.
 “I’m okay!”
 Millie took out a black dagger and tossed it toward Timmid. She caught it and tossed it away. Cletus continued to dodge the bullets from Moxxie and Blitzo’s weapons. Keenie charged at full speed toward Millie’s head from behind her. She was just about to land a hard blow when…
 A large hand grabbed her by the hair…Erebos, and tossed her hard toward the ground.
 Crash!
 “Y-y-you monster!” Collin cried.
 Keenie growled as she stood up on shaking legs, wiping the dirt from her dress. With a swoop, she lifted herself up in the air before Blitzo could shoot at her. She finally rejoined Collin and Cletus…but the E.L.F. members were almost drained from the battle. The cherubs and elves stood battered and back to back against the surrounding demons.
  Lightning flashed as several pairs of the angelic and demonic warriors went head to head. Millie was slashing her sword from underneath Timmid and Keenie, who were punching Dammna and pulling her long blue hair. Keenie slapped Dammna across the face while Timmid yelped as she dodged Millie’s weapon from below. Timmid summoned an angelic harpoon and clashed with Millie. They moved in a dance, metal against metal. The point of the harpoon barely missed Millie’s head. Millie leaped onto the harpoon and raced on it with her sword in her mouth. Timmid’s eyes were wide with surprise. She flipped over Timmid, grabbed her sword and swung it in an arch, knocking Timmid down. The angelic harpoon clattered softly onto the grass. Docile made it vanish with a wave of his hand.  
 Moxxie fired his gun and hit Devvin several times. He hissed as black blood ran from parts of his legs. “Get the sheep, you idiot!”
 “I fight my own battles,” Moxxie retorted, as he dodged Collin’s punches and blasted Devvin’s revolver out of his hand with a well-aimed shot.
 Collin and Tirred shared a look, then both swooped on either side of Devvin. With two hard punches to his face, Devvin plummeted to the ground. He glared at them from below as he slowly stood up and shook his head. Tirred tossed Collin out of range of Moxxie’s bullets before he got hit himself. He gasped in pain before landing on the ground to recover. He winced and glared at Devvin. Moxxie rushed at him, but Tirred shoved him back with a force from his golden staff.
 Docile, Erebos, Blitzo and Cletus were going head to head as lightning lit up the sky around them.
 “Take this, you fucker!” Cletus yelled as he grabbed a nearby rock and threw it toward Blitzo. The rock exploded from Blitzo’s bullet. Another bullet hit one of Cletus’ wing tips, making him stumble in the air. Docile straightened the cherub with one hand as he twirled his staff against Erebos in the other. Erebos flapped his bat wings menacingly. The ground shook below as more cracks appeared. I.M.P. moved to higher ground, gazing at the red lava below in the ground. It created a demonic red glow near the ground. Black blood poured from the demons’ wounds just as white blood flowed from the angels’.
 Timmid stood up and flapped her white wings, glanced around in terror. “We have to stop fighting!” she screamed over the yells and the noises of war. “We’re going to destroy the Earth!”
 Timmid suddenly screamed as Dammna smacked her on the head from behind. She plummeted to the ground, with Keenie catching the dazed angel and carrying her to a safe spot.
   With ear-shattering yells, Cletus and Erebos rammed into each other, as did Blitzo and Docile. The leaders pushed against each other with all their might, as forces from their attacks shook the area. The demons’ horns grew longer and eyes appeared on the angels’ wings. Cletus and Docile glowed blue and white while Erebos and Blitzo glowed red and black. Docile’s harpoon spear pressed against Blitzo’s flintlock pistol. They all seethed and gave each other deadly glares.
 Before long, the cracks and forces would spread to the rest of Earth. Heaven and Hell would collapse, the Earth being the final battleground and resting place…
 The explosions knocked everyone back, sending all the creatures crashing to the ground. The forest had been burned down to timbers and steam was rising from the lake. Lyle’s mansion had been blasted apart to smithereens…yet the soot covered crowd still took pictures as the tour guide spewed his ever optimistic commentary. His hat was lopsided and he kicked broken glass away.
 “One of the Lipton family heirlooms is this golden money bag statue which was gifted to Lyle in the early 1970s. And it’s still standing…”
 The tour guide glanced down to see the statue littering the ground in pieces. “…or it was. I call dibs!”
 The battle had been an intense stalemate. And all seemed lost as the ground prepared to swallow everyone in the lava and magma.
 The dark clouds swirled in a spiral vortex before slowly parting. Sunlight shone from a circular patch of blue sky. The shaking and the yelling stopped. The cracks in the earth fused together and the world slowly got brighter like it did before. The Archangel Michael arrived from the opening, along with the cherub Deerie by his side.
 Blitzo helped up his colleagues. “I think we can call this mission a successful failure.”
 Millie supported Moxxie. “What about our target?”
 “Forget about him,” Blitzo said. “And forget about those cherubs too. They’re done for.”
 The imps looked over at the barely stirring cherubs on the ground.
 “Well, looks like we won again,” Moxxie said. “Though we really need to tone down all this fighting.”
 “Yeah, I’m tired and could really use an iced coffee right now,” Blitzo said. He took out his green “mare-juanna” horse figure and kissed it. “I knew this lucky charm would come in handy. Let’s go gang!”
 The imps grinned and high-fived before disappearing through the portal to Hell.
 Michael hovered in the air in all his glory, supported by broad white feathery wings. He had pale skin, blushes on his cheeks, and short blonde hair like his fallen brother Lucifer. A sword made of flames was tucked protectively near his belt. A glowing spiked white halo hung over his head with a crystal in the center. He wore a white suit and tailcoat, while several medals and badges shown from the front of his outfit.
 He bore a stern expression on his face as the other groups slowly recovered.
 “Four interdimensional companies fighting in the one world to cause the most damage to mortal lives. I’m ashamed at all of you. You were lucky that no more humans got hurt.” Michael briefly glared at the cherubs and diablos.
 The cherubs and elves bowed their heads in apology, while the diablos looked on.
 “I ask that all of you head back to your worlds immediately. If I ever catch you fighting here again, I’ll erase every one of you from existence. Are we clear?”
 “Yes sir,” chimed the six angels.
 “Lord Michael,” said Cletus, lifting his head. “The demonic imps have already left. And those diablos are the ones who started all this!”
 “Please Lord Michael,” said Docile. “My company came here on behalf of the importance of C.H.E.R.U.B.’s protection. I humbly ask that you reconsider their previous errors and allow them a chance to…”
 A rumbling sound was heard and cracks appeared in the ground again. Two gaping holes appeared in the ground. One of them shoot fire into the air.
 “There’s our cue,” said Devvin to his companions.
 Dammna grinned and pointed toward the cherubs. More cracks were forming underneath them, soon creating another hole. Erebos and his gang flew into the cherubs’ faces. “Have fun in the inferno!” cackled Erebos and his crew before they flew into the column of flames and down below. The ground closed over the portal and the flames disappeared.
 Deerie laughed nervously at the frightened cherubs. “Yeah, no sorry guys. I’m afraid your test on Earth has come to an end and…well, yeah there’s only one place to go now.”
 “Noooo!” the cherubs cried, huddling together.
 To the horror of the cherubs and the elves, the fallen trio was starting to change in appearance. Their white wings turned stiff and black, the last of their feathers falling to the ground. Small leathery bat wings grew in their places. Their white halos cracked and fell to pieces in front of them. Keenie frantically tried to piece hers back together. Collin gasped as he held the pieces in his hooves. The halo pieces stopped glowing, fading to a stony dark gray. Keenie buried her pale face in her hooves…hooves that were now morphing into sharp claws. She screamed out loud as she clawed at her face.
 “Lord Michael, do something!” begged Docile. But the archangel stood solemnly in the air, shaking his head.
 The cherubs’ teeth soon grew sharp and white, cutting into their tongues and making them bleed. Their outfits changed from cheery pastel colors to bold fiery reds, oranges, pinks and yellows. Cletus clutched his head in pain as two small pointed horns protruded from his ginger head. The other cherubs also cried out, clutching at their newly formed horns stained with blood.
 The ground collapsed underneath them, giving way to a deep hole with a reddish light and a portal to Hell between the rock walls. Lucifer’s curious grinning face appeared in the opening.
 The cherubs felt themselves being pulled back by a powerful force toward the portal.
 “No, no, no, no!” Cletus cried. “This can’t be happening!”
 Keenie shouted out prayers to God, begging for his forgiveness. Collin wailed and bawled as he hung onto the grass for dear life.
 Docile, Tirred and Timmid raced toward the cherubs.
 “There’s no point in rescuing them,” Deerie said, flying in front of them. “Unless you troublemakers want to join them.”
 Docile promptly punched the doe in the face before making his way toward the struggling trio.
 They each placed their right hand on the cherubs’ foreheads as light shone from their teal hands. Tirred placed his hand on Collin, Timmid’s hand was on Keenie and Docile had his hand on Cletus.
 Docile chanted in the Enochian angelic language and said: “I bless each of you with a chance to find the light. No matter where you are, it is hope you’ll never lose sight. You will find one person or more, who’ll help you along the way. And after discovering your true righteousness, you’ll return home someday. By the will of the Lord, so may it be.”
 E.L.F. removed their hands and the light faded.
 “Bye!” Deerie happily waved toward the cherubs before vanishing through the heavenly portal.
 Timmid grabbed Keenie’s hands and pulled with all her might. Keenie’s face turned pale, her yellow dress now torn in the appearance of wildfire. The helm of her dress was red and spiked, her horns now black and curved like those of Charlie’s goat bodyguards. She had black bat wings and a pointed tail. Her wooly hair was red and her eyes were pink and yellow…before they gave off a strange red glow.
 Keenie sneered at Timmid, only seeing the red face of Millie laughing at her.
 “Get away, you disgusting demon!”
 Her voice sounded like her own but more distorted.
 “I’m not…” Timmid began but Keenie slapped her in the face before falling with a scream into the portal below.
 “Keenie!” cried Collin, briefly staring down at her disappearing form. “I don’t wanna die! I don’t wanna die!”
 Cletus had horns and black wings as well, though his face took on more of a faint reddish tone. His overalls were red with teeth designs on the pocket. His hair was red and black and darker blushes appeared on his cheeks. His pointed tail was short and red. His eyes had red irises and golden sclera.
 He looked at Docile, only seeing Blitzo’s face. He revealed his new grin of sharp white teeth and glowing red eyes. “This isn’t over, I.M.P.!”
 Timmid and Tirred pulled with all their might, but Cletus was soon sucked in as well.
 Collin glanced at the elves with bloody tears running down his face. His eyes were golden and pink, sometimes glowing red. He had curved goat horns, a pointed tail and black bat wings. His face was almost a tan-red shade and his wooly hair was black. His outfit had changed to a red-orange.
 The three elves pulled, Tirred being supported by Docile and Timmid behind him, but Collin stayed in the same spot, his hooves dangling over the chasm.
 “Sir!” called Tirred, as the elves were dragged inches closer toward the gap, even as they dug their feet in. “We’re being sucked in!”
 “L-let go,” Collin whimpered.
 “What?!” asked Tirred.
 “You can’t let yourself fall!” Docile cried, tears welling up in his eyes. “We were supposed to save you guys…to help give you another chance…” The elves were almost at the edge.
 Collin and the elves stared at each other in the eyes.
 Collin took a deep breath as he thought of his friends.
 “I-I-I’m sorry…”
 With one last wide-eyed look, Collin let go of Tirred’s hands and vanished into the darkness. The elves weren’t getting pulled in anymore, rather they were pushed back a bit. The portal to Hell closed, and the ground in front of the elves sealed back together like nothing had happened.
 “Why?” Docile asked Michael, turning around.
 “C.H.E.R.U.B. set themselves up for their fate. They gave into their anger and were more focused on defeating their rivals instead of properly interacting with the humans. They still disobeyed the rules thus were sent to Earth to test their faiths. Alas, they gave into their selfish desires of revenge and pursuit of glory. One can now only hope that they'll redeem themselves in Hell…if they even survive that long. As for you three, remember my words of warning.”
Michael rose back into Heaven and vanished.
 The three somber elf angels slowly rose up into the air and went through another heavenly portal back to their world. Back in paradise, Docile had never felt more alone. He gazed out at the colorful clouds through a window.
 Docile didn’t even look at his coworkers. “Welp, the cherubs wanted to redeem themselves and continue their company, and we couldn’t save them. We failed. Thanks to those freaking diablos, they’re down in Hell now, so it’s a shame. All they wanted was to spread love and joy to the living world. And now, they’re separated from Heaven…potentially forever.”
Tirred grumbled. “Don’t say I told you so, but…I told you so.”
 Timmid gave her boss a small hug as the three silently gazed at the clouds and sunlight.
From behind the elves, Sully Sirius did a small grin. He whispered, “Now this would make for a spectacular tragic film, don’t you think?”
 Docile glumly turned his head all the way around, while his body stayed in place. “Please leave.” Sully looked at him and screamed in fright.
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Speaking of analyses, what's your interpretation of Kenny? (I feel like he's the one character that really doesn't get talked about in the same manner as other characters. Sure, he gets praised often for being a good boi and there's discussions/theories of his curse, his homelife, sex... But as far as him as a WHOLE, as a person, I don't tend to see that a lot. I think that's why his fanon interpretations feel like a disconnection: He's quiet, his hood being down doesn't mean he'll "talk more")
To even begin delving into all of the aspects of Kenny’s personality, we’ll first have to divide up subsections to how he behaves in certain circumstances, ascertain his motives for doing so, and then finally combine all of that information into a cohesive assessment of his thoughts, feelings, and agendas. And as a bonus, I’d like to discuss how these traits would most likely change and develop over time.  All that said, I just really like his character so instead of doing all that fancy essay work, I’m just going to babble about him. We’ll start with what is both the most and least important aspect to Kenny; his relationship with death.
Death has haunted Kenny for his entire life so far as we, the viewers, are able to tell. The current in-series explanation for his ceaseless bouts of death involves his parents in a cthulhu cult before he was even born. The details here are vague, but the implication that leaves us with is that this is a lifelong affliction. Flashbacks as early as preschool support this theory as we’ve seen Kenny die in a firecracker accident back then. Kenny’s feelings towards death are made clear in several lines and yet more nonverbal cues. He’s scared of death. It’s painful and he hates it. Even knowing he’ll come back, or at least assuming he’ll come back, that doesn’t stop him from screaming, running, crying out, hiding, and outright declaring how painful and unpleasant he finds death. This at least tells us one thing about Kenny’s personality going forward that will be important to understanding further aspects: He hates pain. He’s had plenty of pain, pain beyond what a normal person could ever imagine, and he hates it. One conjecture we can make from this knowledge is he’s extremely unlikely to self-harm in a violent or painful way, such as cutting or punching himself. He has shown a brief interest in pain for sexual pleasure though, as seen with his stint of asphyxiation for masturbation. The attempt killed him but we never get a follow up on whether or not he found it enjoyable, therefore it can be read as either “Kenny enjoys pain for pleasure, specifically asphyxiation” or “Kenny tried pain for pleasure once and as it resulted in his death, he doesn’t want to do it again” or “Kenny will try anything sexual at least once”. Among these readings, the third is most likely the most accurate while the first two can be entirely up to the opinion of the interpreter. They have equal canonicity behind them.
His hatred of death and pain has led him to become bitter and angry towards the people around him on many occasions. For example, when Kyle was dying Kenny was incapable of feeling sympathy for Stan’s sadness over it when Stan was so consistently apathetic towards his own death. It’s clear that Kenny doesn’t want Kyle to die and cares about the well-being of all of his friends (sacrificing his life for them on many occasions) but it was particularly painful to listen to Stan talk about how sad he was that a friend of his was dying in the hospital. If we pay attention to the timeline, this happens before Kenny dies in the hospital and Stan refuses to visit him, which would solidify every feeling of resentment he felt when Stan was worried over Kyle. During that time, Stan had had no trouble visiting Kyle in the hospital so from Kenny’s perspective, Stan just didn’t care. Still, he clearly cares for Stan and his other friends which is why we hear the repeated “Where’s Stan?” that breaks our hearts every damn time. It’s worth noting that Kenny has a teddy bear in the hospital that is never seen before or since, it’s very likely a bear from the hospital gift shop given to him by one of his visitors. So either Chef, his parents, or Kyle bought him the bear. A personal favorite headcanon of mine is that Kevin stole the bear for him but there is absolutely no evidence to support that hypothesis. Logically the culprit is either Chef or Kyle, considering the McCormick’s money troubles, and it would be very in character of Sheila to insist he buy something for his friend at the gift shop. Another thing to note is that Kyle is the only one of his friends, aside from Cartman, who visits him in his hospital room. Butters sends a card and there are visible gifts that build over time. We know for a fact during the episode where Kyle was dying that the teacher would have the students make cards for a sick classmate, so the card and gifts are most likely a byproduct of that. It is worth noting that while Kenny was dying such a slow and painful death, Kyle was the only one who was able to stay at his side. Stan found it too painful to watch him die and Eric was off on his mission to ‘save’ Kenny. I believe this impacted the way Kenny viewed his friends in the future, distancing himself from Eric and opening up to Stan less and less. His relationship with Kyle remains dubious and the other kids in his class he keeps an emotional distance between.
One cannot address the issues of this episode without also delving into the issues regarding the length of his death and revival. It’s implicit in the show that Kenny has no idea how long he will be dead for, a few hours or a few years, and there is very little consistency in how he is revived. Most frequently he revives via a literal rebirth (one notable instance of this causing his mother to have a miscarriage), but he’s also had instances of reviving back into his own corpse or literally appearing out of thin air. This leads us to the explanation that he doesn’t know how long he’ll be dead, where he’ll go, or how he’ll revive. This loss of control in his life causes him to put a significant distance between himself and anyone he might care about, for fear that his condition would ruin any chances of maintaining the relationship.
This is especially apparent in his complicated relationship with Cartman (which we will address in more detail later). During his extended period of death, Cartman was the driving force in finding a ‘Kenny replacement’ and Kenny’s self-proclaimed BFF. Both Stan and Kyle joined these attempts cheerfully, but Cartman was the most determined. He tried with both Tweek and Butters, succeeding in finding a best friend in Butters and making Butters an on-again-off-again addition to the ‘main four’ while also maintaining a close (and complicated) friendship to Cartman. Butters was compared to Kenny on several occasions during this transition and showed both agitation and resentment over the comparison. Eventually putting Kenny up on a pedestal as someone ‘great’ because of all the times the guys assured him that “Kenny would do it if he were here”.
It’s worth noting that the two individuals within canon who clearly and canonically remember Kenny’s deaths are Cartman and Timmy. While an explanation for Timmy’s knowledge is still left up in the air, there are a few potential explanations for Cartman’s retained memories. One explanation that I normally prescribe to is that Cartman has Kenny’s eyes and by taking a body-part of Kenny’s, he can now see Kenny’s deaths. This explanation isn’t perfect, as Cartman showed signs of understanding Kenny’s condition prior to that episode, but its one potential explanation. Understanding his condition could have been a basis for the initial development of their friendship or it could have been a secret shared when they were still close that Eric was naïve enough to believe. Although, Eric’s understanding of Kenny’s condition could very easily be an explanation for his own apathy towards other people's deaths (like how he murdered Scott’s parents). Ever since he could remember, his best friend had died and come back, at the age of 8 or 9, how could he possibly have a complete understanding that Kenny’s case wasn’t normal. He could have very well expected Scott’s parents to return the next day the same way Kenny did. While it’s also possible he committed those murders knowing full well that their deaths were permanent, it is still hard to believe that he’d even be capable of taking death seriously after seeing Kenny die so many times.
Continuing further, Kenny’s fear of death does not make him cowardly, quite the contrary. Some stand out sacrifices that he made while scared would be during the meteor shower trilogy (he owed nothing to those people and still gave his life to protect them) and during the hunt for Eric’s parentage, sacrificing his life to save the hospital. He was scared both times and they were ultimately selfless acts. What makes them stand out even more though is how dependent his friends were on him during both instances. They had full and complete faith and trust that Kenny would save the day. Even without cognitively remembering Kenny’s condition, they still trust him with their lives and know he’s the sort of person who would save them.
It’s very likely that this is a reason that Kenny grew into a more and more protective person as the seasons go by, in a way this faith that he’d save them is some of the purest positive feedback he gets from his asshole friends. Whether intentional or not, there was a part of Kenny and his friends who viewed him as a protector above all else. These sorts of implicit expectations can really affect a person’s development. It is most likely due to a combo of this aforementioned expectation and Kenny’s growing cynicism about his own deaths, that he accepts the role so whole-heartedly.
Kenny has a strong association with drugs from early seasons, where rumors of him sniffing paint were prevalent and an instance of him snorting alien coke occurred. His hedonistic personality and inability to die seemingly leading him to believe that he was invincible. And therefore he doesn’t need to worry about the negative effects of recreational drug use. This all changed after the events of major boobage. It should be evidence alone that by the end of major boobage, all rumors about Kenny and drugs ended and he was never again referenced to indulge in recreational substances, especially considering their earlier prevalence, but the series goes even further to show us that he not only got clean, stayed clean, but has developed a dislike for recreational and addictive substances.
Kenny would never do recreational drugs of any kind as a teen or adult and he is unlikely to drink alcohol either. It is very likely he dislikes weed, meth, and beer in particular. Kenny exhibited addictive behavior during Major Boobage and he was addicted to cheesing. However at the end of Major Boobage, Kenny stated firmly that he did not want to be addicted, would quit immediately, and he decided firmly to avoid drugs henceforth. His entire character arc for the episode was learning that he did not like the recreational use of drugs. It’s interesting that the fans interpret this episode as proof he would do drugs considering the entire plot of the episode was about his character growth in that specific regard. It’s like watching an episode where Stan learns to accept his gay dog and saying he will always be homophobic and never change because he started the episode not accepting his gay dog. It’s boggling.
However it is worth noting that Kenny relapsed at the very end of the episode by 'getting high on life'. While this could be evidence that he’d ‘never’ get clean (again disregarding all other evidence to the contrary) but it actually shows something that is quite telling for his ability to stay sober. His friends were quick to help him and pull him back from it. This alludes to him continuing to have support from friends and family during recovery. Recovery is a hard and difficult thing that is nearly impossible without a support network. This is a shockingly optimistic moment when understood through the lens of how difficult it is to fight for sobriety.
However the evidence that Kenny has chosen to stay clean doesn’t stop there. Aside from all rumors about him sniffing paint and other implications dying down all together, we have an extremely telling scene with his parents in a later season. During the superhero trilogy Mysterion startles his parents while they are getting high (specifically on weed). His parents state, fearfully, that Mysterion has been threatening them to stay off drugs and attempt to hide the pot from him, knowing he wouldn’t approve. This is telling in a few ways but one that is significant is that Kenny hated his parents' use of drugs, including ‘harmless drugs’ such as marijuana so much that he would go as far as to threaten them. We very rarely see an outright aggressive or threatening Kenny and we almost never see him show any ill will towards his family. Kenny is shown over the course of the series to be very fond of his family. His hatred of recreational drug use would have to be quite intense for him to go as far as to threaten his parents. The implied subtext of this scene is that Kenny considered what they were doing to be an extremely bad thing. So bad that he would threaten people he loves enough to terrify them that badly. This shows that since the Major Boobage episode, Kenny's attitude towards drugs has definitely grown negative. Moreso, the threat of staying off drugs was paired with the threat to ‘treat their children better’, leaving the heavy implication that he views those two as linked.
Even further evidence provided for Kenny’s continued sobriety and dislike of recreational abuse of addictive substances. During The Poor Kid, when Kenny was out of options with his foster family, he resorted to providing them with alcohol. Showing that he firmly believes that the best way to destroy people is to give them addictive products like alcohol. Further evidence that he feels negatively towards the drugs and alcohol. It’s played off as a joke in the episode but it’s clear that Kenny has strongly associated alcohol with destroying people.
Despite drugs and alcohol playing a major role in several plot lines that follow, Kenny is never shown to have an interest in them. As stated above, in early seasons he’d happily snort alien coke and now he never so much as approaches drugs positively. It’s extremely indicative that this change and interest in sobriety is long-lasting.
Finally we also see Kenny joining Stan's band that he created out of frustration with his situation on Tegridy Farms. Stan has grown to hate weed and what it represents and it is currently causing his family life to be much worse than usual. Kenny, as shown in episodes like The Scoots, loves his friends a lot Stan included. Watching his friend in so much pain can only cause him to view the substance as even worse. It is very likely that while they were working on the band and practicing he heard Stan's complaints as well. Kenny is actively watching as marijuana tears the Marsh family apart. He also watched Stan’s struggles with alcoholism and Stan’s fathers struggles with addiction as yet further examples of how these substances can destroy lives.
During TFBW game, there is a drug subplot that Mysterion actively works to put a stop to. Again, never once part-taking in drugs and actively fighting against their spread in his city. It doesn’t get any more blatant that that. Kenny is far more likely to join the DEA than he is to get high behind the gym. Kenny would never indulge in recreational drug use, specifically meth, weed, and beer, because of his experience watching them ruin families and strain friendships. As well as his own experience with drugs when he decided that he did not want to live that kind of lifestyle.
There’s a bit more evidence that delves into the realm of headcanon, but it is a logical extension of deductive reasoning based on the canon content we are provided with so I will include it as well. We know that Kenny and Satan developed a friendly relationship during Bigger, Longer, and Uncut. We also saw Satan give Stan a very simplified and child friendly lecture on addiction, as though he’d given the same lecture before. While there is no evidence of this, it isn’t a stretch to imagine the person he’d previously helped through their addictive tendencies was Kenny.
To be clear, this isn’t an anti-drug PSA. I don’t care what characters do or don’t do drugs, this is merely establishing that for Kenny specifically with the character arc he’s had, it is very unlikely and borderline insulting to his struggles for sobriety. However Kenny’s connections to drugs also open up some interesting relationship details as well.
During the major boobage episode in particular all of his friends join forces to get Kenny clean, Kyle in particular spear-heading the effort. Stan was there and Butters was there but neither showed as much passion or commitment for assisting Kenny’s progress to sobriety as Kyle did. Even putting his own neck on the line by hiding a cat in his room (with Sheila Broflovski as a mother, is he suicidal?). It’s yet another case, like with the Kenny Dies episode, where all his friends offer very passive support and Kyle offers a very aggressive and consistent support. It’s shown a pattern thus far of Kyle feeling in some way responsible for Kenny’s wellbeing. Which could be explained by a few things, Kyle’s obsessive and passionate personality or perhaps he feels subconsciously guilty for all the times he’s left Kenny for dead. Really we have no way of knowing why he’s doing this but we do know he’s starting to develop a pattern of protectiveness towards Kenny. What’s even more interesting is during both instances Kenny is too far gone to notice. During Kenny Dies he’s frequently asking for Stan and during this episode he’s angry and belligerent that Kyle is taking away his high. Making both tasks thankless endeavors on Kyle’s part (which is also a little unusual because Kyle loves to be praised for his hard work). Kenny’s relationship with Eric is at a low during this episode, Eric caring more about cats than his old BFF and Kenny now knowing that Eric won’t even make an emotionally dishonest attempt to be there for him. I would be interested to see how Kenny in specific felt about Eric facilitating the drug trade during TFBW considering his sobriety and the fact that Eric was never there for him through it. Butters and Stan just don’t stand out as particularly good or bad friends during this episode, they’re just sort of there and listening to Kyle’s instructions. 
However, it’s worth noting that when there were rumors about Kenny getting high in early seasons, Eric was a mentioned accomplice, which makes it even more interesting to think about how Kenny’s sobriety might have solidified the growing rift between the two. Perhaps they used to be the kind of friends who got high behind the gym together and now Kenny won’t and Eric thinks he’s a pussy with sand in his vagina. It’s just an interesting nugget of characterization to explore. How specifically did Kenny’s sobriety impact his relationship with Eric? It’s an engaging question I wish more fans would ask because I would love to see the potential answers and hypotheses’. It’s also worth noting that after Stan’s own struggles with sobriety and addiction in later seasons, it’s possible that Kenny could have become Stan’s sponsor or perhaps that the two of them connect over this unique struggle in their lives that their other friends wouldn’t have as complete an understanding of.
There’s a lot and a little to be said about Kenny and his relationship to his siblings. The clearest picture we get of his relationships with them is his obsessive protectiveness of Karen, even going so far as to deny her own wants and needs (as seen in the TFBW dlc) in order to protect her from all perceived danger. Even if the danger is as mundane as ‘being lame’. But to get a better idea of his relationship with his siblings, I’d like to start from the beginning.
Namely, before Karen even existed within the narrative. In the early seasons with Kevin and Kenny as the only two McCormick children, we see a passive and friendly relationship (a stark contrast to the Marsh family siblings). Kevin does nothing aggressive towards his brother and he is seen peacefully playing with Kenny as well. While this does not make it impossible that Kevin isn’t a friendly sibling, from the context we see him in for the early seasons, there’s no reason to assume he isn’t a kind older brother to Kenny.
Which brings us to the impossibility of Karen’s birth. As stated above, Kenny revives most frequently through rebirth and he dies far too frequently to allow Carol a successful pregnancy.  And we know that, to Kenny’s knowledge, he was the youngest McCormick child during the episode that confirmed he gives his mother miscarriages. He tried to give her a miscarriage before doing so on accident, hating the idea of having a younger sibling more than anything.
This is something that also lends to the idea that Kevin is a kind older sibling and that he is fond of his parents, regardless of their flaws. It’s explicit within the episode that Kenny doesn’t want a younger sibling because he doesn’t want to share that love. He wants Kevin to spoil him and his parents to spoil him and he doesn’t want to lose that to someone younger and cuter. Perhaps his attachment to being spoiled could be because he’s so relied upon by his friends as a protector that he is loath to lose the one type relationship he has in his life that places him as someone to be protected rather than doing the protecting. This is conjecture, but it would make sense with the characterization we’ve seen thus far.
But how did Karen come into being? The ongoing theory in fanon is that she was born during the year Kenny was dead and his friends replaced him but going through the aging timeline, it’s unlikely he was dead a full year (more likely only a few months) and even if the timeline matched up, Karen is six years old when she is first introduced, only 3 years younger than Kenny. Which means she had to have been born long before this incident. Another ongoing theory is that she’s adopted or a foster child, but those are relatively unlikely as well. The McCormick household has a fucking meth lab in the back yard. There is no adoption agency that is going to give them a child. And this theory ignores her clear resemblance to both Kevin and Stuart.
This is why I believe the most likely source of Karen is through a third party and Stuart. There are no adoption hoops to jump through if Stuart is her biological father and it explains the familial resemblance. It’s not difficult to believe Carol would accept her as her own due to how desperately she wanted another child.
As for how Karen was conceived, that’s up for interpretation. She could have been a product of infidelity or a case of someone else carrying her for the McCormick’s as Carol is effectively baron. I will say that Stuart’s infidelity is more likely purely because of the age. If they’d asked someone to carry Karen to term for them, Karen should have started living with them when Kenny was three and yet, she doesn’t join the family until the age of six. There could be a myriad of reasons for this that can be left entirely up to the interpretation of the viewer but the only logical way for Karen to exist as she does is that she is Kenny’s half sister.
When Karen showed up, Kenny clearly grew immediately attached and began to mature quickly. Taking part in less shenanigans, taking responsibility for her well-being, protecting her from bullies, playing with her in his free time. Kenny didn’t want to be an older brother but when push came to shove, he accepted the responsibility whole-heartedly and fully embraced his younger sister. Even more meaningfully, he didn’t care about whether or not she was fully blood related and treated her as a sister just the same. It’s possible one of the reasons he didn’t see any need for blood to create familial ties is growing up with Kyle and Ike nearby and knowing that it wasn’t blood that made them brothers. It’s also possible that he just has too much integrity to treat her as anything less than his baby sister.
One thing that should be noted about children Kenny’s age is modeling. Children, especially under the age of ten, are extremely susceptible to the behavior modeled for them. For example, children who have older siblings who mistreat them are far more likely to mistreat their own younger siblings. It’s a monkey-see, monkey-do time of life. Therefore I would like to present with this as my evidence that Kevin was just as kind and protective as Kenny is to Karen. He’s at an age where he models what he sees around him, treats others how he is treated. The other sibling relationships he’s close to is Kyle and Ike, which while loving took awhile and is significantly less overtly affectionate at times, and of course the Marsh siblings who have an overtly negative relationship until very recently in canon.
Meaning it’s possible he modeled how to treat a younger sibling after how Kyle treats Ike but it’s difficult to imagine him playing kick the baby with Karen. It’s more likely that he grew up with a protective older brother who spoiled him and he is now passing down the behavior that he received.
In short the McCormick siblings have a complicated but interesting relationship. There’s a lot to be said about how while Kenny was being conceived (with Stuart and Carol constantly getting high at a cult and subsequently arrested) that Kevin was only three years old and he wouldn’t have been able to fend for himself at this time. He might have attached onto Kenny so strongly out of loneliness over the severe neglect his parents subjected him to.
It’s worth mentioning that one place Kenny remains determined to indulge is with his hobbies, specifically with magic the gathering, his psp, and nascar. Kenny has for the majority of his characterization been defined by his hedonism. Doing what felt good, when it felt good. It’s why he has such a striking and intriguing character arc over the course of the series. Going from a pure hearted and selfless hedonist (an interesting combo in itself) into a more mature and more reserved individual who denies himself those simple easy pleasures (such as drugs).
But he still has a desire for escapism and so he pursues his hobbies with a passion and protective zeal that can be alarmingly violent. He doesn’t just love his hobbies and desire to indulge in them, but he also wants them to be respected and he despises a mockery being made of them. He doesn’t just enjoy them, he becomes masters at them. He pours all of his passion into being an amazing Magic player, into achieving the highest score in his favorite game, into murdering the one who mocked Nascar.
Wait, that last one doesn’t quite belong. We’re going to put a pin in that one for further exploration in the Cartman section, but it’s worth mentioning that his passion for that sport is so intense that he would be willing to commit murder. While the characters in South Park are outright murderous by nature, Kenny is one of the least homicidal in town (it’s a relative term) and as such, his turn to homicidal rage in defense of his hobby is notable.
He knows Cartman, he knows this is probably a phase and Cartman will get over it, if it was any other circumstance he’d probably be laughing his ass off at home that Cartman was making an idiot of himself on live TV and driving a vagisil car while eating the cream. It’s objectively hilarious and something that Kenny would normally have laughed at and moved on. He’s shown discomfort with Cartman’s escapades before but he’s never taken it so personally. Even when it was a direct attack against Kenny.
There is a part of Kenny that just can’t tolerate his hobbies being so openly mocked and made a sham of. Even during cock magic, he felt deeply uncomfortable with the spectacle the game he loved was turning into, doing everything he could in his limited capacity to continue to treat it seriously and play with integrity. Kenny loves his hobbies with a passion that we don’t see from him for much else.
One potential explanation for this is the emotional distance he has with other people that I alluded to before. He has a lot of love to give and a passionate personality but he dies. All the time. No one remembers, those that do only use his death for their own gain, and while he’s dead even his closest and dearest friends will attempt to replace him or actively resent him. People can replace him. People can betray him.
Playing cards? They have no autonomy. They can’t change after his death; they just wait for him in his room until his revival. Nascar? Sure, he might miss a few races but he can always catch up or just watch new content. Kenny has found an outlet for all the love that bubbles up inside of him that doesn’t rely on people who he’s learned to mistrust.
There is also something to be said about his addictive personality and it’s very possible that he uses his hobbies as a replacement for drugs. Indulging in healthier hobbies in an attempt to replace the ones he now views so negatively. A strong support of this theory is that before Kenny’s sobriety he was less passionate about hobbies and after his sobriety, he is clearly and consistently more obsessive about his hobbies. (further evidence of his continued sobriety, fucking fight me fanon. don’t even tell me you do it for the angst, a struggle for sobriety is way more angsty than a momentary high. ya’ll just want him to do drugs/alcohol because you do and you kin him.)
Kenny’s love for his hobbies is quickly becoming a defining trait but also it’s worth noting that his hobbies are social in nature. He didn’t pick up drawing or writing or origami, things he’s shown an interest for in early seasons, he picked up Magic and Gaming and Nascar, all three when indulged as hobbies are inherently social. You watch Nascar with people, you play Magic with people, especially in this day and age, you play videogames with people.
Even though he’s given up on connecting with people on a deeper level and puts a distance between himself and others, he still pursues hobbies that connect him to them. This indicates that he could still be trying to reach out to others and wants a deeper connection. But on his own terms. He doesn’t select hobbies that the others are already into to attract them to him, he’s pursuing hobbies he likes. Stubborn and selective boy. I haven’t listed all of his talents, skills, and hobbies here, mind you, just the ones relevant to my points (meaning I left out details about his passion for singing because that appears to be a natural talent and sports because he enjoys them but shows no real passion for them)
I’ve probably put off talking about his friendships for too long at this point but a part of me wanted to save this for last, as so much of what there is to say about his friendships with others is indicated in other segments. But the as this is an entirely unstructured attempt at explaining my thoughts and headcanons about Kenny McCormick, I don’t believe it matters the order I go in so here is an overview of his relationships with a few key individuals in his life.
We’re going to start with Kelly. Not because she’s the most influential or most important, but because her impact on his personality is striking in a way that I have to wonder why more people don’t address it. Prior to meeting Kelly he didn’t have as much resentment towards his friends over his condition and after meeting her, for reasons that will become obvious soon, the seeds of pain grow into something larger.
For those of you who are largely unfamiliar with her, she is Kenny’s first girlfriend. She developed an immediate attraction towards him and began to pursue him with a hesitant intensity. Kenny, as he does with most people who approach him so passionately, treats this with confusion and hesitance. She’s hyper logical, goes at her own pace, and treats the fact that Kenny would like her as a matter of course.
Her pursuit of Kenny isn’t what’s most notable but it is worth noting how he responds to someone pursuing him. It’s the confusion that strikes me the most, he’s not used to being treated like something special, and he doesn’t know how to reply. It’s a far cry from the smooth talking flirty Kenny of fanon. Kenny is far more likely to respond with hesitant interest, confusion, and eventual flustered flattery to a romantic pursuit based on how we’ve seen him respond in canon. This isn’t to say he couldn’t develop a more flirtatious personality with age, but it’s worth noting that within canon we don’t see a hint of that as of yet.
The impact that Kelly truly makes on Kenny’s personality isn’t a romantic one though. Although it is my belief that he will grow to view it and gestures like it as romantic ones in the future, but that’s a headcanon digression. Her contribution to his development is simple:
She saves his life.
While no one else would, no one else tried, no one else thought it was possible. It’s very likely that his friends all have a sense of subconscious learned helplessness in regards to Kenny’s death and therefore don’t fight it because, to them, it’s an inevitability and Kelly was only able to do this because she was not previously exposed to the multitude of Kenny deaths.
But the fact is that a person claimed to care about him, wanted to date him, and then when the worst thing about his life was going to happen again, she saved him. In this moment Kenny associated on some level caring about him to saving him. The fact that Kelly saved him meant she cared and by extension, the fact that no one else saves him or even holds him in his dying moments, means that they do not care about him.
Let’s return to that moment of lost empathy and sympathy when Stan was grieving Kyle’s illness. Perhaps on some level he’d just grown to understand that Stan wasn’t the sort to try helping his friends when they’re in mortal peril, made an exception that it’s not that Stan didn’t care, it’s just that Stan wasn’t the type to try saving another person’s life. Or grieve. Sure, it frames Stan as an awful person but to Kenny, Stan being an inherently cruel person was far less painful than the horrible knowledge that Stan did care. He just didn’t care about Kenny. In this moment he’s able to see the moment that Kelly saved him, because she cared about him, and all the moments that neither Stan nor his other friends even tried to save him. To add insult to injury, he dies right then and there and Stan still doesn’t care.
He’s left with the horrible implication that his worst fears about his friends are right. It’s not that they don’t remember because they can’t, it’s that they just don’t give a fuck about him. It’s terrifying, worse than even the prospect of a friend dying.
Which is another matter, as Kenny is semi-frequent in the underworld(s), it’s difficult for him to fully empathize with the idea of Kyle dying. Normally the terror of a loved one dying is that you’ll never see them again, but for Kenny it’s likely he’d still see Kyle every Tuesday. While he words to protect his friends and clearly loves his friends, when they’re lives are in peril like this, it’s sometimes difficult for him to empathize. He doesn’t want them to die but there’s a bitter part of him that’s unable to grieve if they do.
Kelly’s selfless and kind act, one that showed Kenny a moment of what it was like to feel loved, left such a terrible lasting impact that we can see seasons and seasons later. "ALL THE TIME! I die all the time! And you assholes NEVER remember!! Remember! Try and fucking remember!"
Now this can’t be entirely attributed to Kelly, obviously, but I think she’s an important contributing factor to his descent into bitterness that is entirely under-explored. And I also find the way he continues to pursue the relationship with her after she’s left back to her home state to be really telling about how loyal he is within a relationship. Even with his own financial and logistical issues in dating a person who lives so far away, he does his best to visit her whenever he can. She clearly meant a lot to him and it will forever taunt me that we never got an onscreen breakup. It’s also notable that he shows the same level of respectful loyalty to Tammy while dating her. This showcases a clear pattern of treating his significant others with kindness, patience, loyalty, and respect.
Now that I’ve spent ages talking about a girl most fans don’t even remember existed, let’s start in on Stan. Stan seems to hold a special importance to Kenny, it’s difficult to say exactly why (but I’m sure if I dig more I can find out) but moreso than Eric, Kyle, or Butters, Kenny seeks out Stan’s approval in one way or another. It’s very subtle, sort of a ‘blink and miss it’ thing but it can be blatant. The aforementioned moments regarding Kyle’s hospitalization and his own hospitalization. In more subtle moments, we can see Kenny gravitate towards Stan while Kyle and Cartman have their tiffs.
One possible explanation for his attachment to Stan is his horrified “oh my god, they killed Kenny!” frequently by the time Kyle has joined in with “you bastards!”, Kenny is already too dead to hear it. So it’s possible that he puts a lot of weight on their friendship because he views Stan as one of the few people who react to his death at all.
(I can’t help but wonder how gleeful Kenny must have felt that Stan chose his side during the Black Friday trilogy)
Regardless of the reason, Stan appears to be the one among them that Kenny has distanced himself the most from. He’s shown to be very compassionate in most situations but in later seasons when Stan is struggling, Kenny is frequently distant or unresponsive towards it. This seems to be mending in the most recent seasons, with episodes where it shows that they’re fond of one another but even then, there’s an undeniable rift. Despite being Stan’s friend for longer and what most would consider closer to him, during the band episode Stan interacted more with Butters and Jimmy than he did Kenny.
This is also possibly explained by Kenny’s under-explored shyness (something I don’t know if I’ll even get the chance to dig into because I’ve already been going on for so long and I’m barely through half of the things I want to talk about). But I believe that Kenny has put some emotional distance between himself and Stan due to the moments that led him to believe that Stan does not ‘care’. One example of this is during the Cthulhu trilogy, when he explodes in response to his friends questioning, he gets upset with Stan’s reactions but only explodes to Kyle’s, despite their questions being equally ‘offensive’. Perhaps he’s put up more emotional walls with Stan and he’s more prepared for him to be insensitive than he is with Kyle.
Kyle is a complicated relationship to define. On one hand they’ve both had moments of cool apathy towards one another (Kyle during ookie-mouth and Kenny during Cherokee Hair Tampons), although both of those situations are easily understood under the lens of the other stressors. Kyle claimed to “not care about Kenny” but it was only in response to being asked to spit in one another’s mouths. Kyle is a canonical germaphobe (in weirdly most regards other than poop, which he is strangely very comfortable with) and being asked to let someone else spit in your mouth would be trying even if you had no issue with germs. As for Kenny’s moment, as explained above, he was far more concerned with the implications of what it meant for his friendship with Stan at that moment. And not entirely unreasonably.
Kyle’s strange because despite not being Kenny’s closest friend by any stretch of the imagination, he’s been there for Kenny during most of his pivotal character moments in one capacity or another. In a way, Kyle is the one constant in his life. He holds Kenny as he dies in Wing, he stays by his side in Kenny Dies, he fights for his sobriety in Major Boobage, he invites him to become a Jew Scout in Jewbilee, helping him out in The Coon, there are weirdly numerous examples of their friendship and yet there is no explicit focus on it. It’s also worth noting that among all his friends, Kyle was the one Kenny chose to view the meteor shower with and this was during a time where he was still objectively closest to Cartman. And the same can be said for the Coon episode, Kyle was the one Kenny went to for help.
It’s difficult to define their relationship because while they have a strong pattern of a deep and supportive friendship, they also never even attempt to be one another’s ‘favorite’. Although Kyle does seem to be the most protective of Kenny among the main boys (this is of course only a relative, the bar is really low). For example, despite all the boys having lice in Licecapades, Kyle was the only one who came forward to save Kenny from the sock bath. It would take a whole other essay to fully dissect how their relationship works but to simplify it, it appears that they rely on one another.
During Jewbilee, Kyle has complete baseless faith that Kenny will save them. There’s no reason for this other than he just knows that Kenny will. Moses is captured, an all powerful figure, and Kyle still thinks his parka wearing little friend has got this covered. Conversely Kenny comes to Kyle when he needs help, like with Mysterion’s “You’re the smartest kid I know”. It’s just interesting how much they rely on one another and never make a big deal of it. Their friendship is based on an understated mutual trust.
Cartman on the other hand takes any and all trust, and throws it in the bin. If Kyle requires an essay to explain, Kenny’s relationship with Cartman needs a dissertation. That said, I’ll make an attempt to keep this short and to the point. Eric and Kenny do seem to at one point have shared a mutually beneficial friendship, with both of them liking Kyle and Stan more than they liked one another but still clinging to one another in a strange and desperate loneliness. One of the ways they bonded over the course of their friendship was a similar sense of humor. They both enjoyed crude and childish jokes more than either Kyle or Stan did and therefore they were able to indulge in them with one another. The trouble was that Eric had a malicious edge to his humor and Kenny did not. Eric was willing to take things farther than Kenny ever was, potentially purely to prove to the world that he would. A perfect microcosm of why this aspect of their friendship fell apart is found in How To Eat With Your Butt. They both found the ‘butt’ school picture to be hilarious in the beginning but when real people were looking for their son, Kenny dropped the joke immediately but Eric pushed further. These sorts of moments increased in frequency, leading Kenny to pity Eric above all else and Eric to both love and despise Kenny in equal measure.
Eric was still the person Kenny reached out to more than most people, like during Bigger, Longer, and Uncut, but the strain on their friendship began to show more and more and then… Kenny died. Eric knows about Kenny’s deaths, possibly the entire reason he spent all his time trying to make a clone Shakey’s rather than actually saving Kenny’s life. But more time passed between this death than any other and Eric, who has abandonment issues but that’s a whole can of beans to explain, decided he needed to replace Kenny. The trouble was his first attempt, Butters, wasn’t the same. Neither was his second attempt in Tweek. And while Butters did eventually replace Kenny as Cartman’s ‘best friend’, it still wasn’t the same. Eric had lost that friendship for good and still longing for a taste of it, he’ll often still seek out Kenny’s opinion on things. Kenny meanwhile came back to life (we’re going to skip over the sharing a body possession arc, not because it isn’t relevant but because it’s just WAY too much to cover in a short span of time) and found that his best and worst friend had replaced him. In some ways it was a relief, being Cartman’s number 1 friend (especially when Cartman clearly wanted Stan and Kyle’s approval more) was never a great role. But at the same time, being replaced is never a pleasant feeling and it really bloomed that horrible terror that had begun to grow with Kelly and Stan. His friends don’t actually love him, he’s replaceable, they don’t need him. He begins to close off more and more through this and starts to focus his attention on spiting Cartman in small ways (like as Mysterion). He can’t help but be a little resentful and a little uncomfortable.
This discomfort can also explain a lot of why Kenny appears so uncomfortable around Butters during Going Native, not wanting to be called Butters’ best friend and not wanting to go on the trip with him to begin with. Overall Kenny seems to veer from apathetic to Butters to uncomfortable with him. There’s no single scene in the show where he actually seems to show any affection towards Butters. He was forced to go on the trip during Going Native, he had to listen to Butters call Nascar ‘stupid’ endlessly with Cartman, and he just… doesn’t spend time with Butters. They’re seen in the background together, but so are Clyde and Kenny or Annie and Kenny. This isn’t to say Butters has had no impact on his life, but even when he’s on a trip to Hawaii with Butters, he spends his free time writing letters back to his friends or hanging out at a bar alone instead of spending it with Butters. Butters does seem to hold a certain level of affection for Kenny though, whether this is due to Cartman’s influence (the constant comparisons that put Kenny one pedestal as the ‘best’ kind of friend) or due to an actual affection for Kenny, that’s up for debate. I lean towards the former because it’s more consistent with Butters’ overall characterization and it also gives the progression of their relationship a… progression. In the latter interpretation Butters’ fondness for Kenny seems to spring from nowhere within the scenes we’re provided with. In the former, Butters’ fondness is based on his own insecurities and the significant trauma that Kyle, Stan, and Cartman put him through. There really isn’t anything worth dissecting with the Fun Times With Weapons incident, Kenny doesn’t appear to be particularly apologetic nor does he do anything to protect Butters from the hell that follows. Strangely Stan seems to be the most obsessed with getting Butters’ help, although in the most misguided ways possible. Furthermore, during the Cthulhu trilogy Butters is imprisoned and forced to eat his own poop to survive throughout the entirety of it and Kenny just… didn’t care at all. The initial imprisonment was clearly Cartman’s doing but even after Cartman was kicked out and Kenny assumed leadership, he made no effort to free or protect Butters. Whether this was out of resentment or apathy is left up to interpretation. Put plainly, Butters and Kenny do have a strange connection although that connecting piece appears to just be Cartman and without Eric, that bond is nearly nonexistent. (istg if i get another message calling me a bunny hater… guys, im not being mean or an anti, this isn’t about ships, this is about talking about how kenny actually feels and behaves towards other characters within canon. and no, kenny did not invite him to game night. it was very clearly a joke that no one invited him… that said, if someone did invite him, it’s more likely to have been kyle who invited him due to kyle’s response when butters first entered the house)
Kenny also has some interesting relationships with the secondary cast that is worth mentioning (Craig, Timmy, and Bradley in particular) but I’m not sure how long I’ve been typing for so we’ll put a pin in that.
Fuck, I had a lot more bulletpoints I wanted to get to in order to expand fully on his character and I haven’t even gotten to the ‘conclusions’ section but my fingers fucking hurt. Here are the bullet points I didn’t get to, if you’re really curious feel free to ask for more details on any of them:
Anger issues
Mischief
Wisdom and foolishness
Growth
Prostitution 
Sex
Parents
Work
Protective
Shyness / Quiet / timidity
Loyalty
Resentment
Hedonism
Pride and poverty
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xfcklprtehkrx · 5 years
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Follow the Music
Received this question from @beyondkailani​ : I'd be interested in your views on the episode titles, especially those released for season 2. I find some of the implications interesting - Sex and Candy being followed immediately by Como la flor for example. Very different in tone!
Okay the episode song titles thing is really fun.  For S01 I was familiar with every song, and yay cause even some of my old favorite bands in there.  Nirvana, Everclear, Aerosmith, and Counting Crows?  Can’t go wrong.  Once the episode with Rosa’s CD happened I realized the episode titles were doing the same thing, but I think for most episodes it’s way more literal than others. Since we’ve made it through S01 already I’m gonna mostly focus on S02.
I made a youtube playlist with lyrics for the sake of review: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLu6cxfqCMO9l7f1jJlLLgCzQELAo7W-BZ
2X1 Stay (I Missed You) (Lisa Loeb) Okay this song, the lyrics are 100% about Michael and Alex.  Lyrics strangely seem like the inevitable moment of real separation between them because Michael is with someone else.  It also smacks a little bit of their reluctance to let go of each other for so long.  Now the title could be a direct point to both Rosa and Max seeming to be dead at the end of S01.  I mean Rosa was dead for 10 years.  She can’t just come back to life, so if she’s going to live, she can’t stay in Roswell. Even if Rosa could stay, what about all her drama with Isobel?  Problems. I mean she was Noah at the time, but Rosa doesn’t know that, so they can either tell her or have it be a constant problem.  There’s also a chance Rosa already knows and she was going to tell her dad, so she doesn’t exactly scream ‘support the alien conspiracy’ to me.
I don't pay attention To the distance That you're running or to Anyone anywhere
I don't understand if you really care I'm only hearing negative, no no no, bad
So I, I turned the radio on, I turned the radio up And this woman was singing my song Lovers in love and the other's run away Lover is crying 'cause the other won't stay
And you said that I was naive And I thought that I was strong I thought, "hey, I can leave, I can leave" Oh but now I know that I was wrong 'Cause I missed you Yeah, I missed you
You said, "you caught me cause you want me And one day I'll let you go" You try to give away a keeper Or keep me 'cause you know you're just so Scared to lose
2X2 Ladies and Gentlemen We Are Floating in Space (Spiritualized) This one is all ‘I can’t help falling in love with you’.  That speaks to me of Michael and Maria.  Could also be a Liz leans on Kyle thing too, assuming Max is still dead.  She does always run back to him, which is super unfair to Kyle.  Maybe it’s also something good for Isobel.  She deserves a new love after everything with Noah, so I’d rather it go that route than either of the other two. 
2X3 Good Mother (Jann Arden) This episode will probably revolve around Maria’s mother, and since I predicted before that Michael’s hand and Maria’s desperation to find a cure for her mother could go sideways, I suspect some of that will happen here.
2X4 What If God Was One of Us (Joan Osbourne) As a Malex shipper I admit this is the one that interested me the most since Tyler Blackburn confirmed in this episode Alex gets a new love interest.  I can’t see how this would relate to Alex in anyway, so I was disappointed to not get any further insight.  
Now the lyrics make me suspect this is when Michael tells Maria he’s an alien. I mean yeah it’s ‘god’ not ‘alien’ but still some similarity there to me.
If God had a face what would it look like? And would you want to see if, seeing meant That you would have to believe in things like heaven And in Jesus and the saints, and all the prophets?
2X5 I'll Stand By You (The Pretenders) I see so many things in this one. -Rosa(assuming she’s still alive)/Liz -Max(if he’s back)/Liz -Max(if he’s back)/Isobel -Michael/Max and/or Isobel. -Kyle always being there for Liz even though he’s sort of a doormat -Kyle and Alex’s rekindled childhood friendship and Kyle being there for Alex -Tragedy strikes so Alex and Maria make up and he’s there for her or vice versa (even though I don’t foresee that lasting)
This could touch so many of the relationships on this show.  It’s too generic to me, and we won’t know until we get there.  Especially since so much will hinge on how they decide to handle Rosa still being alive and Max being dead.
2X6 Sex and Candy (Macy’s Playground) Now I know the word sex is in the title, but I never interpreted this in a literal way. I always assumed it was about eye sex.  His eyes meeting across the room with this fantasy girl and he’s surprised she’s looking back.  So maybe something romantic for Isobel or Alex.  I assume by this point Maria and Michael will be together so nothing to do with them.
Hangin' round downtown by myself And I had so much time To sit and think about myself And then there she was
I smell sex and candy here Who's that lounging in my chair Who's that casting devious stares In my direction
Mama this surely is a dream Yeah mama this surely is a dream
2X7 Como La Flor (Selena) I don’t speak Spanish so I had to check out a translation for this one, but this one breaks my heart.  It’s all about losing the one you love and letting them be happy with someone else. I could almost ugly cry at the implications of this song.
I know you have a new love However I wish you the best If in me, you didn't find happiness Maybe someone else will give it to you
If you saw how it hurts to lose your love With your goodbye, you take my heart I don't know if I can love again Because I gave you all the love I could give
2X8 Say It Ain't So (Wheezer) This song following the last song makes me feel like I am right about the main subject for that episode since it seems to follow the exact same line of thought, but it actually doesn’t.  I suspect Jesse Manes will make an appearance here.  This song is actually about a boy’s fear of his father’s alcoholism.  Then again, if the person who picked it didn’t actually know what the song was really about then yes, it follows the theme of the previous song.
2X9 The Diner So I wasn’t 100% sure which song this was referencing.  My mind immediately went to Tom’s Diner by Suzanne Vega, which I won’t lie, I had stuck in my head for like 6 years because I couldn’t figure out what the song was so I never heard it again.  When I finally did it was sweet relief.  Now there’s a ‘The Diner’ by Kaskade but it’s really just a remix of her song, so I’m going to assume that’s the song.
Now absolutely nothing in this song draws me back to this show.  There is a verse at the very end that seems like it might be significant, but it’s not in the ‘the diner’ version.   Then again, it could just be that the episode takes place surrounding the Crashdown, and the song title is literal.
Oh, this rain It will continue Through the morning As I'm listening To the bells Of the cathedral I am thinking Of your voice And of the midnight picnic Once upon a time Before the rain began
1X10 American Woman (Lenny Kravitz) This seems way out there, but this song makes me think of an outsider government/military type showing up to investigate and stir the pot.
So beyondkailani had directly commented on the contrast between 2X6 and 2X7.  I agree. Different in every way, but I’m not sure it has any meaning beyond trying to find song titles that fit the narrative, but then I think ‘no way’, and I’m sure it must be something more complicated.  I’m still digesting how I feel because the songs do bounce all over the place as far as genre.  
In S01 I felt like 75% of the song titles it was just the title that related to the episode.  I’m sure the lyrics also add to it, but mostly I think they were chosen just for their titles.  There are some episodes where it must be the lyrics that had meaning because I can’t see another connection (1X4, 1X10), but for most, it’s just the title.
Per example: -Don’t Speak is a break up song and I suppose you could attach a secondary meaning of the loss of your faith in someone to this song, but that’s a tough sell for me. -Smells like Teen Spirit on the teen revisit episode and I assure you the song is not actually about being a teenager… -I Saw the Sign on the episode where Liz finds a possible motive for why Isobel killed Rosa when this is actually also a break-up song of sorts. -Champagne Supernova on the Gala episode -Creep for the prison and Noah revealing the full extent of his actions (yet the song is actually about wanting someone who you think is amazing to love you but thinking in comparison to them you are nothing).  Now that I’m reconsidering this one the lyrics may also have value here. Originally I hadn’t considered that the lyrics might represent Noah’s feelings about Rosa.  Rosa not being an active character I didn’t consider her as part of the equation the first time.
I added some of these to the playlist at the top as well. 1X1-Pilot 1X2-So Much for the Afterglow 1X3-Tearin' Up My Heart 1X4-Where Have All the Cowboys Gone? 1X5-Don't Speak 1X6-Smells Like Teen Spirit 1X7-I Saw the Sign 1X8-Barely Breathing 1X9-Songs About Texas 1X10-I Don't Want to Miss a Thing 1X11-Champagne Supernova 1X12-Creep 1X13-Recovering the Satellites
Now all of this could be totally moot since most of the songs in S01 are just about the title and I focused on content to make conjectures.  This was really fun for me though.
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lovingsiriusoswald · 5 years
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Andromeda Mercia [OC Profile]
Notes: First official OC that I love dearly! I got several wips fics written with her in it and I think you've seen her around my blog! Her first character sheet was more focused on her history and family, so in this one I'll be telling more about her in "present-Cradle" times and her relationship with everyone (contains various route spoilers!!) since she doesn't have a suitor yet.
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Name: Andromeda Mercia
Nicknames: Lady Andromeda, Meda, Beautiful Brain
Age: 23
Birthday: November 4
Element: Air/Aether
Faction: Red Territory
Occupation: Royal Advisor
Modern Setting Occupation: Lawyer
Job Description: "The Royal Advisor of the Red Army shall guide his King and Queen’s decisions and check their plans for approval or alteration in accordance to the laws of Cradle. He shall also aid in battle strategies with the Jack of Hearts. He shall vow to remain faithful and loyal to his army, and protect his generals, regardless of how perilous the situation is."
Physical Features: Alabaster skin. Almond-shaped, light brown eyes. Pointed nose. Dark, wavy hair that reaches past her shoulder blades and often ornamented with a comb. Bruised and scarred feet, two deep cuts by the shoulder blades and back littered with small scars. A simplified family crest tattooed below her nape, a small maroon diamond on her left wrist pulse and a small maroon heart on her right wrist pulse. 165 cm height (5'4"). Remarkable strength equal to the Jack of Hearts if not more. [More]
Personality: Very authoritative and strict, but has a kind heart and listens to others wholeheartedly. She follows the rules at all cost and often feels uncomfortable when going against routines. Her traumas and fears made her cold and robot-like when she first joined the army, but she warms up when she spent more time with them. She has a strong mindset and she will fight for justice and peace. Very smart but very dense. She can allure people to her favor without realizing it, but never abuses it. Very soft for animals and children, and childhood memories before her training.
History: It was a family secret that she was born in the Land of Reason due to her mother's complications during pregnancy. Her mother died at birth and stayed in an orphanage for four years before being sent home to Cradle. She was a happy carefree child but when her training started, so did the abuses and tortures. She was shun away from the world because her family thought she was weak and “incapable” of possessing magic like his father's family. Sixteen years later, her father was killed and only then joined the army. [More]
Lore: She can possess magic and repel it, making her unnaturally stronger than anyone in Cradle and the Land of Reason. She was secretly trained by her father and no one else knew but them. She was her father's secret weapon to eliminate the source of the red darkness that plagued the army. A prophecy was found in the Abandoned Castle that she was the one who can defeat the Jabberwocky with the Vorpal Sword and her father knew.
Trivia: 
She can fight in ballet shoes and heels.
All of her clothes were designed and tailored by her late mother’s business.
She is very fond of flowers, especially the Baby’s Breath.
A collection of journals filled with notes and designs are littered in her room.
[More]
Skills: Versatile in weaponry, painting, tailoring and designing.
Pet/s: She rescued a magical phantom fawnicorn from the Abandoned Castle and named her Sora. 
Relationships and stories:
Lancelot Kingsley - A leader she must follow at all times. She admires his ambitions of peace in Cradle. He remembers her as the girl with the odd accent in his birthday parties as a kid. She was taught to fear him during her trainings, but he shows his kindness in ways that caught her off guard. She starts to feel more comfortable and let her walls finally fall down. One night, she learns his connection with Amon to take control over the country, throwing her back deep inside her shell again. She carried the weight of the secret heavily on her own. He confronted her about her change in behavior again and she explodes, resulting the scared woman to betray her army and take refuge in the opposition. The Black Army proposes a treaty to the Reds after learning what she knew and took her in as one of their soldiers to lead a revolt against the Magic Tower. The King of Hearts stands by her side quietly, to prove that he was not the person she thought he was.
Jonah Clemence - An annoying childhood friend. Before her trainings started, the Clemence Brothers visited her often for tea parties and play dates. They were separated for sixteen years because of their future duties, and when they met again they were not the same person they hoped they were. She found his excessive perfectionism annoying and petty, while he thought she was just an empty doll who liked too much sweets. They constantly bicker with one another but little did he know, she was afraid of him. He wanted his best friend back, so he constantly asks her to accompany him with his errands in Central if she wasn’t busy. On their way home, their carriage was ambushed and she did not hesitate to throw herself right into the battle to protect her best friend.
Edgar Bright - A mischievous co-worker and sweets enthusiast. In the army, their positions were almost equal. The Jack of Hearts would often tease her and give her candies and treats to see her brighten up a little. She has never met him before but she knew how dirty and heavy his duties were, especially with the oaths between his and her family. She let her selflessness overrule her when it came to the executions he needed to do, thinking that the man should not bear the heavy weight of a curse. The two were great swordsmen, always ending their friendly duels in a draw. They were also a strong, overpowered duo when it came to battle plans and attacks that their troops always comes home with a win.
Kyle Ash - A very attentive doctor and drinking buddy. When the lazy doctor saw the bruises on her back, he learned the horrible tales behind it and how it affected her well-being. When she was warming up to him, she would help her with his duties in Central if she was not too busy. She handles the annoying children that she somehow gets to listen to her, making his job easier and treats her with food and sometimes, drinks at the pub he often visited. If they’re out, it automatically meant that she was on drunk duty. Having better tolerance to alcohol, she carries him on her back all the way home until Zero sees them, immediately taking care of the drunkard and apologizing for not coming sooner.
Zero - A good-hearted man, listener and body guard. The generals all agreed to the secret “Thaw a Frozen Heart Operation” that would help her feel better in the army. He often accompanies her with her errands around Central if training was over. They were both very curious of many things and they learn them together. She had always thought that the Ace was kind and had already trusted him unlike the others. Whenever she felt down, he would often find her staring at a cold mug of chocolate drink by the counter in the kitchen. She would only say with whatever she was comfortable with and he respects it wholeheartedly, intently listening to her and giving her some advices. One restless night, he woke up in the middle of the night and saw her walking down the hallway. With the way she was moving, he knew something was wrong.
Ray Blackwell - A cat-petting buddy. She first met him by accident at the alleyway with Loki. She was flabbergasted by how the King of Spades was cooing the cats as if they would answer him, but she melted when one of the cats rubbed his face against her calves. At that moment, they forgot that a war existed between their armies and talked about the precious furballs around them. The alleyway was a rendezvous and she would drop by with treats for them and he would sometimes bring in more cats. When she ran away from the Red Army, he did not think twice in taking her in and listened to her reasons, defending her from every opposing opinion that was thrown against her. He believed in her kindness and will for peace and she admired his value for freedom.
Sirius Oswald - A florist and guardian. On her first day outside the walls, she meets him by a flower shop and was stunned at how gentle the giant was when it came to plants. He already knew who she was, Lancelot would often tell stories about her. He often praises her for her knowledge with flowers and how she’s very meticulous with designing and taking care of it. She would approach him whenever she wanted to give flowers as a gift for someone, relying on his experience for the messages she wished to relay. Her innocence warmed his heart and urged him to look after her like a little sister. The Canis Major Flower Shop would send her fresh flowers every two weeks, to replace the previous ones she’s ordered.
Luka Clemence - A beloved childhood friend. He was the only other person she was most comfortable with, constantly missing her days with him when they were younger. When they first met again by the market, it was the first time she was seen smiling brightly by anyone. She learned about his rebellion but she didn’t think of him any differently. They rekindled their old friendship and immediately becoming best friends again. The Jack of Spades would sometimes ask Edgar to give the Royal Advisor the treats he’s made. They always run away from Jonah when they see him around, agreeing that he had gotten very more clingy than before. They discreetly exchange letters often, to catch up with lost time. When she ran away from her army, she called for his name by the gates loud enough for him to immediately come running down to her. He was the first person that she ever cried in front of and pushed him to stay by her side, no matter what.
Seth Hyde - A fashion enthusiast and a suspicious man.The moment she saw him, she was already very cautious around him. He offered to be a friend after complimenting about her uniform and learning that she was the daughter of the best seamstress in Cradle. When their topics were about clothes and designs, they are very meticulous and observant, exchanging opinions and creating sketches together. Her suspicions lessened the more time she spent with him, but he always reminds her of what a horrible man he can be. Regardless, when the accusations against him started pouring, she stood up and sheltered him, believing that he was not the man Amon wanted him to be.
Fenrir Godspeed - A family friend and a worthy opponent. During a festival in Cradle, her necklace was stolen and the Ace of Spades was quick to help her. He recognized how similar she was with his godmother and treated her very formally. She disliked this and encourages him to be himself. He retorts that she shouldn’t be so stiff as well and let her enjoy herself, resulting to a friendly competition of who could tolerate the other’s real nature better. Their duels in festival games are their method of training and getting to know each other. His birthday came around and she was invited for the first time, their closeness stuns his guests but he dismisses them and made sure she enjoyed her night. During the revolt against the Magic Tower, he was always behind her and provided the back-up and assist she needed. 
Blanc Lapin - A trusted friend and guardian. The White Rabbit accompanied her mother’s travel in the Land of Reason. He was the one who arranged her papers in the orphanage and constantly travels between both worlds to finalize everything. When she was finally approved to leave, the older man sends her home. He would visit the Mercia Residence often to teach her the traditions patiently and she adjusted very quickly. When she became the Royal Advisor, she would often come to him if she had legal matters to attend to in Central Quarter. They go out drinking together when Kyle invites them.
Oliver Knight - A bickering buddy and London childhood friend. He was six years old when he became playmates with the three year old girl. The nuns would let her play in the nearby playground with him with his father supervising them very closely. When he learned that she had to leave, he gave her a hat that he helped make as a parting gift. Before they left, he asked the White Rabbit to come by again to take him to where she was. Now twenty years older, they meet again but she doesn’t know who he was because of his curse. A few hours before the end of the festival, she meets him in his adult form, holding a replica of a hat he gave all those years ago and they rekindled their old friendship. During the night of her betrayal, he rushed to the Headquarters and helped her escape. 
Loki Genetta - A pet cat to look over. She found him injured and sick in Kyle’s clinic one day and helped nurse him back to health. He thanked her by stealing her away from the doctor and showing her around Cradle. She would receive hugs from him often and it bothered her at first, but eventually got around it. He was much younger than her and he looked up to her like a big sister and mother he wished he had. At times, he would drop sketchy hints with his connection with Harr and how he knew so much about her. She always has fresh fish for him when she sees him looking around the markets with a pout.
Harr Silver - The boy in his father’s stories. They first met when the Royal Advisor got lost in the Forbidden Forest. She somehow persuaded him to accompany him to the Abandoned Castle. When they got stranded in the evening because of the sudden rainstorm, she admits that he knew who he really was. She tells the tales his father told her before she slept when she was younger, and how important he was to him. When a search party arrived and found her alone, the outlaw quietly followed to see if she got home safe. She would look beyond her window just before midnight to see if the masked man came to visit and inform her of the red darkness that consumed the army. 
Mousse Atlas - A kind gentleman and co-worker. When he left the army and served as a neutral diplomat, he made connections with the Mercia family for legal matters and state welfare. She assisted him with his papers for international agreements before joining the army herself. He treated her very kindly and offers to give anything she wanted. He was abroad on the day of her father’s death and when she inherited her position.
Dean Tweedle - A strict teacher. Teaching her in her teen years, he had little to patience to how distant she would often be during lectures. She hated him, for the most part, for expecting so much of her when she barely had any idea of what he was teaching. Nevertheless, she was grateful that he wasn’t like her other teachers. 
Dalim Tweedle - A generous bar owner and a suspicious man. He flirted with her the moment she walked in with her drinking buddies, fortunately she was innocent and dense, dismissing his advances without realizing. She disliked him for calling her a princess, but she appreciated the endearment. Though they became friends, she still didn’t trust him completely and had caught him several times near the Red Bridge late at night. During the attack against the tower, she found out the truth underneath his advances.
Bonus: Additional Characters
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Cassiopeia Windsor-Mercia - Mother, the angel in her dreams.
Cepheus Mercia - Father and role model. He knew about the abuse and had been arguing with his brother since he began, but it never stopped him. He would constantly apologize for not being there for her everyday to protect her. She loved him dearly, nonetheless. When she was much older, he told her about what happens in the army and that she needs to be careful when he steps down. Before his death, he had a messenger send one last letter that she never dared to open—until the night of her betrayal. The truth was written in those several pages and she used it as evidence for the trials to defend the people she learned to care.
Danaus Mercia - Uncle and traitor. She feared him the most, there was not a day where he tortured her during her younger years. He was the reason why the Royal Advisor was the way she was when she joined the army. An unexpected visit reveals how cruel he was behind closed doors, enraging the generals, Lancelot specifically. 
Bella Windsor - Aunt and second mother. She relies on her the most during her younger years, seeking comfort in her embrace and words of reassurance. She was separated from her when she was sixteen years old, but they sent letters whenever they can.
Sora - Her first pet and happy pill. She knew that rescuing her was a good decision despite being a sign of bad omen, but she never thought that she would receive an angel in exchange.
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redsdesktop · 5 years
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Unbalanced Scales
Chapter 2
Chapter Index
Warnings: Mild Swearing
Pairings: Christophe x Gregory
AU: Medieval / Fantasy, ABOverse
"So how do you know Gregory, Sir Christophe?" The blond paladin ask, he'd been the only one to really bother making an effort to talk to the weathered mercenary.
"Stop with the 'sir', its just Christophe." He tugged out a waterskin from his saddlebag, taking a small pull from it, he'd been born and raised to ration, no matter how plentiful he may have at the time. Old habits die hard. "We met when I had a knife in his back."
This seemed to come to some surprise to the paladin, though with how much knowledge he'd gained of his current company, Christophe could assume why. Leopold seemed to hold an optimistic view of the world, despite how badly the Wizard King seemed to treat him. He hated the whole dynamic between Leopold and the other three. However, he weathered it, for now. Getting concerned about the welfare of others would only come back and bite him in the ass, it always did.
"I thought you and Councilor Gregory were good friends, he wouldn't put so much faith in you otherwise." Leopold pointed out, while the innocent may believe such lofty notions, Christophe wasn't fooled, he never had been.
"He's a pompous prick and a bastard, kid." Christophe capped his waterskin and put it back in his saddlebag. They'd been traveling a little over a week with very little rest. It appeared that this curse seemed to be wearing on everyone, with the majority of the company alphas, Christophe could see why.
"I-I happen to be an adult, you know. You can't be that much older than me, sir- I mean Christophe." Leopold sounded offended, a sign that maybe he spent too much time trying to prove himself. That alone was worrying, those guided by such notions did foolish, reckless things. It was always a gamble, one Christophe would never take.
"I'm old enough to call you a kid. If you were smarter that a pig's ass, you'd return back home." Christophe looked over at the paladin, already knowing his warnings would go unheeded. A man with morals would only truly get in Christophe's way, he wasn't a good man and he didn't want someone with a sense of righteousness screw this entire plan up.
"I can't do that, the Princess is counting on me." Leopold's words seemed set in stone, Christophe dropped the topic there. He recognized such a tone, anyone who had it was senseless and it would be like arguing with a brick wall.
The cremello horse in front of his own drew to a stop, causing his own dark bay gelding to draw to a halt. Christophe looked up from his musings, there was thin wisps of smoke rising up into the air, the trees barren of foliage, their skeletal remains reaching up in the last rites, clawing for the heavens with blackened fingers. Fire and ash.
When Gregory dismounted from his horse, Christophe followed suit, moving past the horses to get a better view.As he stood beside Gregory, a small village lay in ruins before him. Charred walls, vacant rooves. He could still hear the faint smoldering crackle of lingering fires, too stubborn and greedy to go out. Strew about the ruined dirt paths were bodies, some caught trying to run away, others trying in vain to protect those they cared about. The massacre had been thorough and Christophe doubted anyone had managed to survive such a methodical killing.
"What in God's name.." Leopold spoke first, breaking the tense silence as Christophe crouched down at the ashen remains of what appeared to be a young woman.
"God? No, God fucked off long ago." Christophe muttered under his breath as he brushed his dirt covered fingers over the woman's skin, feeling bits of it crumble under such a light touch.
"What the hell is going on here?" Eric finally decided to join the conversation. "We're supposed to be investigating the curse here, there haven't been any bandit attacks in over a year!" He narrowed his eyes, studying the carnage before him before looking over to the side, catching sight of Kyle and Stan moving up to join the rest. "Unless it was the elves trying to backstab us while we're vulnerable, I wouldn't put it past you pointy eared assholes."
Fire lit in Kyle's eyes, all too easily riled by the Wizard King's words. "Why would we do something like this, fatass? This curse effects both humans and elves! We're just as vulnerable as you are!"
"Quite frankly, the both of you should shut up already, I'm tired of your bickering." Gregory intervened with a simple raise of his brow. "Who knows if the culprits behind this attack are still lingering nearby and I would prefer if we not attract unwanted attention." That seemed to be well enough to quieten the two for the time being, though how long that would last was unknown as the two kings were still glaring at each other.
"Christophe, scout the area, figure out what transpired here and then report back to me. The rest of you stay close, I don't want you trampling over the evidence." Gregory instructed, receiving a annoyed growl from Christophe but that was all the protest he made before standing up and slinking further into the village.
Considering the amount of people in the street, it was likely the houses had been set on fire first, to force the villagers out of their homes and into the open. Crouching down next to a young man, likely a farmer, decently built, could probably handle his own against a untrained bandit or two. However, as he pushed the corpse onto his back, there was something odd. There wasn't any wounds. No blade or arrow had pierced his flesh. The cause of his death had been being burned. It was unusual, but before Christophe came to any conclusions, he needed to examine other bodies.
Body after body, there was nothing but charred flesh, a few had already been feasted upon by scavengers but the result was the same. Having gained enough evidence of a decent enough conclusion, Christophe returned to the group. The horses pawed at the earth, disturbed by the smell of fire and burnt flesh. Even the humans and elves seemed slightly put off by the very feel lingering in the air.
"Report." Gregory seemed at ease, unlike their company. Such ravaged lands and people, it wasn't the first time either of them had encountered such a scene.
"I found no survivors, though who'd want to survive this hell anyways." Christophe pulled up the cloth that had been tied around his neck, using it to clear away the smoke and sweat staining his weathered face. "Everyone appears to have died from fire."
"I see." Was all Gregory said.
"You see? What the hell is going on here, Gregory? This-" Christophe motioned to the destruction behind him, "-This is supposed to be here."
"What's he talking about?" Stan spoke up, his growing concern was warranted. "Who did this?"
"Échelle." Christophe spat out, turning away to rub his face in frustration.
"What? What did he say?" Eric stepped forward, pointing a finger at Christophe, who curled his lip in return.
"I don't recognize that language either." Kyle added, looking concerned. For an long lived elf, it was rare for him to come across a language he did not know.
"It is the shortened term for dragons." Gregory's expression was grim, staring up at the sky as if just speaking their name would summon them.
"Dragons? Th-those are just a myth, right fella's?" Leopold sounded frightened now, it was about time he took the gravity of the situation more seriously.
"Is that what they say in the civilized world these days? Too afraid to ever admit such fearsome beasts ever existed." Christophe moved closer to Leopold, a low rumble forming in the back of his throat, he was tense. "Its by pure luck that the humans managed to knock them off their seat of power, but the mere idea of having stolen the throne was too much for the greed of men."
"But, if the stories of old true, weren't the dragons' number so severely depleted that  the remaining few retreated to the far north?" Kyle's brows were furrowed, not even the elves wanted to believe, but Christophe couldn't blame them. A curse, that was something they could possibly deal with. Add dragons to the mix and things tended to get... a little complicated.
"Something must have drawn them back." Gregory sighed, no longer able to keep his noble facade. The voice gained Christophe's attention, turning his forest green eyes back to the fair haired councilor.  "This curse, it wasn't the dragonfolk, something like this isn't as grand. This curse speaks of more nefarious deeds. And they certainly wouldn't play their hand this boldly. This, this is revenge."
"Revenge?" Christophe turned away from the rest of their company, having figured out that they were lacking the knowledge required for this portion of the investigation. They seemed to protest the exclusion, at least the Wizard King did. "After all this time, you think they want their throne back?"
"I'm not quite certain of that. Even after so long, their forces would not be strong enough to face off against both humans and elves. I have not heard any word of dragon disturbances, so this is a surprise." Gregory looked over at Christophe, it was very rare that Gregory met Christophe's gaze, a strange habit considering their dynamics, but not their history. Christophe felt uneasy looking into those light blue eyes.
For so long, Christophe had tried to forget Gregory, nothing ever seemed to work. No amount of space, no amount of work could put what happened out of his mind. He loathed it, loathed the man himself with every fiber of his being. He knew rationally that Gregory would use him, Christophe had always been a means to an end for Gregory. The man was far more ambitious, far more dangerous than any living creature in this world. At least to Christophe. To the dirty farmer, Gregory owned a part of him that no one else had achieved, their fates so tied together that Christophe had given up hope long ago of avoiding.
Gregory's gaze softened, just for a moment. So deceptive that even Christophe's heart fell for such a paltry trick. It had been far too long and yet, not long enough. Christophe clenched his jaw, making a muscle tick in his cheek, a motion that did not go unnoticed by Gregory. The blond gave a half smile, amusement lighting his eyes, humored by Christophe's ire. It was always irritation, always grating on his nerves how eager Gregory was to test him, to poke and prod to see how long it took before Christophe finally snapped. The sadistic bastard.
Christophe wasn't certain when, but Gregory was closer, not by much but he was well aware of the blond's position at all times. His entire focus was on the taller male, the others in their company, their bickering seemed muffled background noise. Christophe knew he was being drawn in, toyed with, it had happened so many times before and yet he could never defend himself against it. The scent of warm tea brushed across his nose, the familiar scent of Gregory. It turned his more primitive side into putty and that alone made him irritable. Weakness would not be tolerated withing Christophe's life and Gregory had a way of bringing it out of him.
"So, what will you have us do now, Gregory?" Christophe's words were a rough whisper, as if already knowing what the blond would say to him. However, he needed to hear it, to hear this crazy idea that Gregory schemed up in a moment's notice. Thinking on the fly, adapting to his surroundings in an instant was Gregory's specialty. He always had a plan, but he was always flexible with it, bending and adding to fit whatever problem revealed itself to them.
"I'm going to do my job and hold a council with the dragons."
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cosykaleb-blog · 6 years
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“Hasbeen boy genius”
NAME: Kaleb (Kyle) Mordechai Broflovski   AGE: 17 OCCUPATION: Junior Year of high school SEXUALITY: Bi sexual (But in major denial about it) GENDER: He/him MENTAL DISORDERS: Suspects he might be on the autism spectrum, but was never tested. RELIGION: Agnostic (Open to learn, but has a hard time believing what he was taught about his faith)
PERSONALITY TRAITS:
Logical
Book worm
Lacks empathy, but is sympathetic (or tries to be)
Organized
Hard worker academically
Lazy in just about everything else
Egotistic
Loose sweaters and baggy pants are life
HISTORY:
Kyle’s life have been seemingly uneventful other than what ever shenanigans and he his friends tend to get up to. He’s always been the smart kid of the house and always took that title for granted until Ike started to shine academically more and Kyle started finding himself fighting for his father’s approval. Gerald has always been inclined that his children do as best as possible in everything they do otherwise he sees no point in doing anything. Kyle never agrees with his father’s opinions on things because he sees it as biased and because of this there has been a lot of fights at the Broflovski dinner table which always ends with Gerald throwing the “I am your father you need to respect me” card and Kyle storming off to his room. His mother always take the liberty to bring up an extra plate of food and to talk to him trying very hard to keep the peace in the family. Kyle also conflicts with his parents when it comes to his sense of religion. He hardly considers himself an atheist, but he doesn’t really believe in most of what he was told about his faith and this causes fights mostly between him and his dad. Sheila isn’t very happy about it either, but she knows better than to fight with Kyle about something like religion and figured he’s an adult he can start believing what he wants to even if it upsets her. Kyle works very hard to make sure he’s top of his class because his dad wants him to get in to a career he sees fit enough like medicine even though Kyle has more of an interest in cooking. Though he struggles to keep his title as he started becoming second in his class and this causes even more conflict between him and his father. Because of his somewhat unstable relationship with his dad Kyle often feels anxious and uncomfortable whenever he’s home, so he spends most of his time at his friends houses. Kyle has a need to break away and do what he wants and to live his own life, but he’s too dependent on his parents and he values his mother too much to just run away, so he’s stuck. Because of the academic pressure he built a disdain for school and would skip classes and smoke in the school alley with the Goth kids if it weren’t for his conscious and the looming fear of how his father would react if he found him rebelling to that extreme. He’s always had a feeling that he might not be entirely heterosexual, but he pushes away any shred of doubt and tendencies in fear of how his father would react and managed to convince himself to live in denial of his identity
APPEARANCE:
Curly red hair that takes a lot of maintenance to stop it from taking over the world. In the beginning he would spend about an hour every morning to make sure it looked tidy and in place, but as he got older he decided “fuck it” and now let’s his hair do whatever it wants. It’s its own person it has the freedom to peruse it’s own path. He has freckles on most parts of his body though its more obvious on his face and shoulders. When he was little it wasn’t as clear, but the older he got the more prominent it became. He has no piercings at the moment. He used to have a septum piercing that he tried hiding from his parents by pushing it inside of his nose, but one day he was careless and forgot and his mother nearly fainted. He’s probably going to attempt to get another once he’s moved out and it’ll be easier to hide. He thought about getting a tattoo one day, but he’s squirmish about the thought of the needle. Fashion wise he’s got a fairly good sense of how to look  somewhat decent with buttoned up shirts and nice shoes, but generally he lives in beanies and baggy pants with interesting patterns on them. He prefers the whole “poor college art/film student who lives off of noodles and weed and probably listens to red hot chili peppers” look because its easy. It’s only a coincidence that he just so happen to be a RHCP fan. He dreams about walking barefoot all the time if only it wasn’t so cold as well as his germ phobia. He is a very tall boy about 6'6 . He also has rather big hands that are always perfectly moisturized. He inherited his mother’s green eyes. Because of his diabetes he’s very careful about what he eats and sugar content in food, but his mom makes sure he’s well fed most of the time and also because he loves his mom’s cooking he has a pudgy belly. He shaves from time to time, but occasionally he’ll deal with walking around with a scruff stubble when the work load gets too much or he’s just too lazy to shave.  
PERSONALITY:
Kyle comes off as like a really complicated person, but in reality he’s really simple when you get to know him. He thinks with logic and not emotion and sometimes that gets in his away with his ability to comfort his friends. That doesn’t mean he can’t be sympathetic, though he struggles with empathy. He’s a book worm and loves learning about things as much as he can and because of this people tend to label him as a nerd, he doesn’t really care all that much though cause labels are dumb. A lot of people get the impression, because of this label and his need for logical thinking, that he tends to be high strung and kind of anal when in reality he’s a massive dork that still laughs at farts. He’s not professionally diagnosed, but he’s always had a feeling he might be on the Autism spectrum and have been considering getting himself tested, but with his father there is a prejudice about learning disabilities and disorders, so he decided to just not bring it up to his parents to avoid drama and just find ways to deal with it himself. He’s very clean due to his light germ phobia so he avoids touching public things when he can and always carry around a bottle of hand sanitizer and seaweed scented hand cream. He also practices self care pretty much everyday and uses body butter and scrubs which means he’s extra soft and always smell amazing. (General scents he goes by is honey, peppermint or basil, but he’ll use anything if it tickles his fancy enough) Because of his logical thinking he’s always curious about testing out things for trial and error before he forms his own opinions so this means he’s open to experimenting with the occasional cigarette and joint just to see if he would actually enjoy it, though it’s not exactly something he would see himself indulging in. He has his limits though he’d never think about trying stuff like hard drugs cause he’s smart enough to know what a major effect it has on your life. Generally he finds stuff like drinking and partying rather trivial, but he will participate when his friends are doing it just to have some fun. It could be written off as peer pressure that he tends to fall for from time to time. With his parents being so academically strict and conservative because of their religious morals he does have a need to rebel, though he hardly ever acts out on it cause he’s not in the mood for whatever repercussions it has in store afterwards though that doesn’t stop him from doing what he wants, its just a matter of how well can he get away with it which can also be a problem considering he’s not a very good liar and his conscious gets the best of him. He loves like a man scorned. He’ll be friendly with you and treat you like an acquaintance in the beginning, but if you manage to work yourself in to an important role in his life he would become a lot more emotionally invested in you and can get kind of clingy. He’s not a very cuddly person either, but if you’re family or a very good friend he’ll hug you. Just don’t touch his hair that’s reserved for extra special people and his mom.            
Extra info:
Major soft spot for small dogs like Pugs, Corgis and Boston Terriers
Dog person and would love to own one, but Ike is incredibly allergic to animal dandruff.
His aesthetic consists out of rainy days, the smell of coffee and a giant wool blanket.
His nails are like a pretty big deal, Always clean and trimmed.
When he’s not reading he’s on youtube looking up “10 best scenes from the movie ‘Mean Girls’”
His height makes him look very intimidating, but in reality he’s kind of a teddy bear. Just don’t piss him off if you know what’s good for you.
Has reading glasses, but never actually wears them
Proud collector of interesting socks
Favourite friend’s character is Rachael
Character peeve’s:
When people don’t put the lid back on to the toothpaste
People who pee with the bathroom door open
When his family barges in to his room and don’t close the door behind them when they leave
Cartman
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boyswanna-be-her · 7 years
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it's weird because i used to have this life where i didn't mind telling everyone everything about what was happening with me. but as life got more complicated and i got older, there started to be pieces of me that weren't for public consumption--either because they were too precious or too awful. i think as i decided to put those parts of my life away for myself, i forgot that there's this vast middle ground that i used to talk about here but no longer touch on.
so here's my life update, i guess, with big canyons of details redacted so that i can give you some sort of narrative that might make sense.
i got fired from my job editing newspapers in march of 2016. i published my first gay romance novel a month later. and then another one the next month. and another one the month after that.
in the fall, i met some people who also write gay romance, and i started to actually make friends within my own community. i worked on a bunch of projects--not just my romance novels--and developed a lof of new skills.
in the winter, i actually got to go meet a bunch of those writer people. i took a trip to north carolina/virginia, connected with new friends and someone who i largely consider a new best friend in a circle of best and only friends. i got some more tattoos. i drove places that i'd never been to before and saw things i hadn't seen.
i've reconnected with my parents in unexpected ways. we haven't gotten along since i was 15, and now i find them respecting my boundaries, respecting who i am, respecting what i do with my life. it's incredible not to have to hide things from them. i love having parents again.
jonathan got incredibly sick last year (i’m not going into it in more depth than that here so save yourself the time of asking), and that continues to plague us somewhat. it's just a fact of life. he finally got a concrete diagnosis this month that essentially acknowledges that this is something that will never go away. it sucks and things were very, very rocky before that. but the bad times have only cemented my understanding that there's no one on earth who understands and loves me like jonathan does. so i'm here for it, and i'm here to be a caretaker when i need to be.
the caretaker role has been very difficult for me to adjust to. i haven’t blogged about it or actually talked about it to... anyone. it’s really scary at 32 to acknowledge like... yes, i’m going to be in charge of someone’s care for the rest of my life. i've started going to therapy specifically to address this, and to address my trauma surrounding him getting SO sick last year. it's not helping yet and it's very, very tough.
we traveled in march to go to california to see my dear darlings kyle and rhonda get married. i can say without a doubt that this ended up being THE best trip of my entire life. we went to reno, tahoe, sacramento, yosemite, and monterey and i fell in love with that part of the country even more than i ever had before. my wanderlust is absolutely turgid. i decided to write a book set in the stanislaus forest.
the book business have been... strange this year. there's a project i won't talk about here. but i published a book in february that was my most successful so far. it launched me into designing covers, and also showed me how to connect with new audiences. it got a writeup on a usa today romance blog, which was kind of thrilling. most people read it as a disability story and liked it, some of them thought it was furry sizekink porn, and neither of those reads is even vaguely incorrect.
i also had an audiobook professionally produced. i'm too scared to listen to it all the way through. reviewers LOVE the production, but find the writing a little lacking. i'm kind of with them there.
i'm working on a book right now that feels really important. i keep asking jonathan to have faith in me, to have patience, because the book is taking forever. it's about 100,000 words right now and it's still got a lot more to go. i don't know what to say other than i'm in it deep with this one and it... yeah, feels important, like i said. it's something that was going to drive me crazy until i wrote it.
i have a few more of those on the horizon--books that are really talking to me. there are other projects--desining covers for other writers, more audiobooks, books that are marketable but maybe not as close to my heart.
in april, i went to this incredible convention in atlanta and got to meet the remaining new writers who i consider my best friends who i hadn't actually met in person yet. the experience was overwhelming. it's been a long time since i've been in a room with people who unequivocally understand and respect me, and it was a good feeling to have. we'll all see each other in october, along with one of my oldest friends who has joined my newest friendgroup and career path.
when it comes to my writer friends, i’m really up their butts and i don’t know what to do about it. oh well. i’m very invested in these people and it frightens me. it’s been a long time since i had a group of people i felt this close to. i keep waiting to fuck it up, like it happens with everyone whose butt i decide to crawl into.
jonathan and i are going to go to denver in october for a romance conference and then some vacation exploring. neither of us have been to CO, so we're losing it about how excited we are. we both want to travel more, but have agreed that we should probably only plan two big trips each year together. it's just so hard to travel at the same time because of the dog. if anyone wants food and a free place to say in florida in exchange for dogsitting for two weeks in october, hmu.
we're thinking the next two trips will be big bend and the pacific northwest so... yknow, hook it up, pnw crew.
in august/september, i'm hopefully headed to minnesota for the first time to join up with my writer people at what sounds like a disgustingly idyllic location on a lake. i'm so used to not looking forward to things that i'm trying not to look forward to it. i was supposed to visit two friends in DC in april and it fell through because of a health issue with jonathan and i was a little more devastated about it than i understood at first. so i get scared to plan stuff.
jonathan has his own business since last summer. we both filed taxes as business owners last year, so that felt pretty baller. jonathan does some projects like contracting/carpenter stuff, but mostly he's been able to focus on designing furniture. he's doing these incredible chairs right now that just melt my face off. he takes basic mid-century modern designs and then adds and subtracts until it's the same chair with a different feel. he feels self-conscious saying that it's his own design, but that'd be like saying that fanfiction isn't writing. it's definitely fucking writing, and his designs are definitely his.
overall, we've been incredibly lucky that we get to work for ourselves. i'm constantly thankful for that. i can't even explain how much working for myself has changed the fabric of my life. it is simply so much healthier and better, even with the struggles it presents.
my health, other than getting fucking pneumonia last month, has been really good. it's incredible how much changes when you don't hate every minute of your job every day. don't get me wrong--i'm still a depressed, anxious mess. but at least i have the energy now to cope with that sometimes. i don’t have to chain smoke and drink my way through the days because i DREAD waking up every morning. i think soon i’ll actually have recovered enough from all that bullshit that i won’t have a panic attack every time someone raises their voice and will be able to concentrate on reading text for pleasure rather than just skimming or editing.
otto the cat is still missed fondly. i named the main character in my california book after him. hector the dog is unimpressed with his internet success story (160k+ notes on tumblr). he started walking with a limp, so jonathan built him a ramp. poor old buddy. he's doing well with the ramp though! and the limp is getting better.
anyway, i think that's all i can think of for a life update. consider yourself caught up. :)
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notwithout-mymuse · 7 years
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Fic: Misfits and Wanderers 5/8
Fic in which Robert and Aaron accidentally become secondary dads to almost every kid in the village. No mentions of the current SL because positivity is fun.
Split into 8 smaller one-shots because my thoughts ran away with me. All parts with be tagged fic: misfits verse.
With thanks as always to @mrshiftysugden, @portinastorm, and @stulot
Part 1 – Noah
Part 2 – Gabby
Part 3 - April & Leo
Part 4 - Kyle
Part 5 - Sarah & Jack
Aaron is in the pub, just trying to have a quiet post-work pint before he heads home to have tea with Robert and Liv, when the shouting starts. Drama in a small village like Emmerdale is hard to ignore, especially when it involves your own family.
He doesn’t know what caused the fight, all he knows is that Debbie and Ross are screaming at each other from either side of the bar. Debbie seems to be accusing her boyfriend of cosying up to someone he shouldn’t, but frankly Aaron doesn’t really care. What does trouble him, however, is the sight of Sarah and Jack sat in one of the nearby booths, obviously waiting for it to be over. Sarah looks a combination of bored and mortified, slumped down low in her seat like she wants the ground to swallow her up. Jack on the other hand is glassy eyed and looks on the verge of tears, his lower lip trembling.
Aaron downs the rest of his pint and wanders over towards the children, before sitting down opposite them.
“Hey, you guys ok?” he asks, reaching across the table to brush a loose bit of hair out of Jack’s eyes.
“They’ve been like this for ages.” Sarah responds, putting her arm around her little brother. “It’s embarrassing, everyone keeps staring.”
“Why don’t you both come back to mine for a bit eh? Let ya mum and Ross sort their problems out on their own.”
“Can we? You don’t m-“
Sarah’s reply is drowned out by the smash of a glass, Ross having apparently knocked Debbie’s wine glass flying as he gesticulated angrily at the woman opposite.
“Ok, time to go I think!” Aaron says, lifting Jack up into his arms, and nodding in the direction of the door for Sarah to follow. He pauses by the door to speak to Faith, tells her that he’s taking the kids for as long as it takes for Debbie and Ross to get their act together. She nods, her face serious for once, and pats him on the back as he leaves. Faith might encourage her own share of trouble, but when it came to Sarah and Jack at least, Aaron knew she had their best interests at heart.
There is a part of Aaron that worries slightly about springing Sarah and Jack’s presence on Robert like this. It’s not that Robert doesn’t adore his niece and nephew, he absolutely does. Aaron knows because he’s seen the glow of pride on his husband’s face when Sarah bounds up to them in the street to tell them how well her latest round of treatment has gone, and when Jack drew a stick-figure portrait of them one afternoon during a barbeque at Diane’s, it was Robert who immediately stuck it on their fridge in pride of place.
It’s just complicated is all. Aaron knows he will probably never completely understand the issues that made the Sugden family so complex. But he does know that despite it all, the awkwardness with Debbie, the animosity with Andy, and the difficult reminders that come with the children’s very names, Robert would do anything to help them if they needed him.
He’s proven right when they step through the stained glass door, Robert needing only a glance from Aaron to start pulling out more chairs for the kitchen table. It’s Thursday, so April and Leo are already seated either side of Liv, colouring on scrap paper as the older girl works on her latest art project, the three of them sharing Liv’s fancy new colouring pencils.
They’ve taken to keeping a stash of kid-friendly meals on the bottom shelf of the freezer, so Aaron pulls out some chicken nuggets and chips. Once the food is cooking, Aaron leans against the sink and watches as Robert supervises the kids. They have more people than kitchen chairs, so Robert has Jack on his lap, and the little boy keeps lifting his piece of paper up every few minutes to show his uncle.
“That’s amazing Jack… April make sure you share with Sarah please… oh no did it break? Liv do you have another red pencil…”
After they’ve eaten Liv pulls out a battered old edition of monopoly, and they all gather in the living room, kneeling around the low table to play. It warms Aaron’s heart as he watches Robert help Sarah and Jack, who have never played the game before, to understand the rules. The situation allows him to be laid back and have fun with them in a way that is new and sweet as they play as a team. The game is surprisingly good-natured for monopoly, so Aaron decides not to ruin it by drawing attention to the fact that Robert, as the banker, starts slipping Sarah extra notes when she gets close to going bankrupt.
It’s late when Debbie eventually calls, and she sounds tired and sad as she thanks Aaron, telling him that Ross has gone back to his mum’s for a while. April and Leo are long gone by this point, and Jack has fallen asleep on the sofa with his head in Robert’s lap, so Aaron convinces her it’s better to let them stay the night.
Robert wakes them briefly so that they can brush their teeth with a couple of the brand-new toothbrushes they’ve started stockpiling in the bathroom. Liv lends Sarah one of her old onesies to sleep in that the younger girl has to roll back the arms and legs of, and Aaron retrieves a pair of pyjamas that Kyle had left behind for Jack. They’re asleep as soon as their heads hit the pillows, peaceful wrapped in overly-big sleeping bags.
The next day, Aaron and Robert arrive home from work to find two drawings shoved through their letter box, featuring little doodles of monopoly pieces and chicken nuggets. Both go straight up on the fridge, right next to the stick figure masterpiece.
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robininthelabyrinth · 7 years
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Request for Proposals (Coldflash)
Fic: Request for Proposals (Ao3 Link) Fandom: Flash, Legends of Tomorrow, Supergirl, DC Comics Pairing: Barry Allen/Leonard Snart, background other pairings
Summary:  In a world where marriage is an extensively negotiated contractual arrangement, getting Leonard Snart hitched is nothing less than a monumental task.
And Mick Rory's the sucker whose job is to find his best friend just the right spouse.
A/N: Born from the desire to write a coldflash fic entirely from Mick's POV.
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There's nothing special about the day Len decides to ruin a year of Mick's life.
Mick's working on their motorcycles, incorporating some of the stuff he picked up from his heat gun into the design to see if it'll work – it probably won’t, but if it does, it’ll be explosive, and Mick is into that. Len is lounging on the couch.
There's always a couch in Mick's workshop regardless of whether they're in a warehouse or a real house or a garage, specifically because if Mick doesn't put out a place for Len to lounge, Len will drape himself over anything that resembles a place to sit - cars (that Mick is working on), engines (that Mick is working on), Mick (hey!) - and Mick has learned it's best to give in to Len’s whims up front.
Being Leonard Snart's partner and best friend is not unlike being the owner of a very large, very ornery cat, Mick reflects. But only if that cat had the brain of Moriarty combined with the excitability of a Chihuahua and the attention span of a goldfish.
And, let him not forget, an unerring homing beacon for trouble.
Len has been rather quiet today, alternating between browsing magazines and daydreaming. Mostly daydreaming.
Mick should've known he was in for trouble - and he had! Len is always trouble, but none more so than when he has time to think about it.
Mick just underestimated how much trouble.
"Mick," Len says, staring at the ceiling.
"Yeah?" Mick asks, only about half of his attention on Len, the rest on the tricky adjustment he's making.
"I wanna get married."
Mick drops the screwdriver.
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Marriage.
Marriage!
Marriage isn't something to be entered into lightly. There had been that period back about half a century back that had briefly flirted with no-fault divorces and quickie marriages at licensed chapels and whatnot, but when the government had stepped up to take over the social net, fired up with progressive fury, it had made some concessions to social conservatism and returned marriage to the formality of the past - albeit a formality that was no longer connected to its original religious roots.
Marriage is about binding two individual into a single unit, stronger together than apart - not unlike starting a joint venture by merging the assets of two companies.
It was also about as complicated a process.
Oh, sure, sometimes people went out a-courting, meeting eligible individuals and opting to send a specific marriage invitation open to only a single bidder. But that was a rarity, a little risqué twist for the young and foolhardy. Popular culture associated such ‘choice marriages’ with early failure rates. Most people went with the traditional approach.
In the traditional approach (though tradition may not be the right word, given how recently it adopted its current form), a person looking to get married appoints a nominee - a best man, or woman, whichever - and that person goes out to scout out appropriate prospects, investigating their assets and personality traits and evaluating them to see if they would make an appropriate match. Once they narrow down the list, usually but not always with the input of the would-be marriage prospect, the best man goes out and interviews each one before making a decision as to who the right person would be, again usually with the input of the marriage prospect.
Once the decision is made, the best man approaches the prospect's own best man (a family member is usually a good bet) and they enter negotiations for the marriage contract: a covenant of how to set up a life.
The marriage contract covered everything.
Division and usage of assets. Living arrangements. Expectations of conduct. A list of unacceptable behaviors and the resulting list of consequences, up to and including divorce. Promises made, flaws admitted, full disclosure warranted. The contract all but names the couple's children.
After all, even though society has long since moved past the point where it considered unmarried adults to be akin to children, popular wisdom still maintains that a person about to enter into a marriage can’t be trusted to make their own life choices. Certainly not for the first two years of marriage, which the contract strictly construes; only after those two years had passed could the couple petition for re-negotiation of certain elements.
Popular wisdom also holds that the more well-negotiated a contract, the better the prospects for the marriage. After all, how else to ensure equality and justice in the home than to have it dictated by interested third parties, each representing the best interest of their side?
"I hate you," Mick says fervently, gathering up books on the marriage process, sample contracts, the phone book (tabbed open to marriage auditors and asset investigators), even his own files he'd tentatively gathered on possible individuals for Len - all long out of date. "I hate you."
"I'd do the same for you," Len says, like that matters. Mick is Len's best man, has been for decades, and Mick’s ma didn't raise someone who'd let a friend down in the most important decision of their life. He's not going to half-ass this.
"I'm not planning on getting married," Mick points out.
"You might."
Mick snorts. He'd nearly gone through the process once, long ago - it had been badly thought out, badly negotiated by his then-foster mother in what Mick still isn't sure whether to think of it as a greedy attempt to get a share of his inheritance or an attempt to cure his pyromania through the love of a good woman, and had luckily fallen through at the last moment through a series of coincidences and timely interventions that Mick has always suspected was arranged by Len. There was a reason he'd named Len his best man the second he legally could.
(There's also a reason that foster-mother is in jail without requesting parole - Len pledges vengeance against very few people, but when he does, he does so with a relentlessness typically found in geological epochs.)
"You might," Len repeats stubbornly. "One day. I will crawl out of my grave to perform my best man duties if you need me to - as you know."
"Just don't die," Mick grumbles, flushing a bit. "Again."
It was total coincidence that Len had been spat out of the Oculus right around the time Mick had been considering just accepting the alien queen's offer of marriage if it meant she would take her army and go away. Really. Coincidence.
Totally not Len somehow managing to fight Death and steal out of her realm just because Mick needed him. Mick's pretty sure. Mostly sure. Partially sure.
The fact that the alien queen had retracted her offer (and her army) in sheer terror rather than negotiate a marriage contract with what she believed to be an avatar of Time itself - a very belligerent one who had within minutes of resurrecting himself immediately demanded a full third-party audit of her entire government system as a prerequisite for even considering her offer - was just a bonus. Turns out Time was their planet's most fearsome god; who knew?
(Mick swears he'd heard of these 'Kryptonians' somewhere before, not sure where, but he was so happy to see Len - his Len, not the Legion’s weirdly wrong copy-paste version - back, he hadn't really bothered to tell the Legends the full set of details when they'd finally come to pick him up. He's sure it can't be that important, though, even if the Legends never do believe that he saved the world on his own.)
"Let's focus on your marriage," Mick says, shaking his head a little. "What are you look for? Since you've already got the partner in crime bit down."
Len laughs. He and Mick considered marrying each other once, but they'd never really found a romantic groove that worked for them and in the end it just felt too strange. Partners suited them better.
"I'm not sure, honestly," he says. "Someone I can mesh with, of course, though a bit of conflict to spice things up wouldn't be amiss. Stable enough that I won't have to give up Central - the city's non-negotiable. As is what I do; I ain't giving that up for anyone, so they've definitely got to have a sense of adventure. Sense of humor, of course; I ain't me without my puns. But just, you know. Someone to come home to." He pauses. "Not that I don't come home to you as it is..."
Mick waves a hand dismissively. Of course Len comes home to him, but he doesn't come home to him. He gets it. "Someone to settle down with, you mean."
"Yeah," Len says, and his tone is distinctly wistful. "Someone exciting. Someone who can make settling down exciting."
"Exciting but stable," Mick says dryly. "Adventurous but loves Central. You live to make my life easy, don't you?"
Len grins. "I have faith in you."
Mick grumbles and pretends he doesn't feel warmed by the fact that he knows Len really means it.
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Finding someone who will match what Len is looking for is, however, easier said than done.
Mick dives into city records. He needs someone with a spark, someone exciting, someone devoted to the city - someone who will look at Len and seen neither Snart, skilled thief and mastermind, nor Captain Cold, supervillain extraordinaire.
In the end, Mick comes up with a preliminary list.
Mark Mardon, Sam Scudder, Rosa Dillon, Hartley Rathaway, Selina Kyle, Harleen Quinzel, Cisco Ramon, Caitlin Snow, Barry Allen, Iris West, Eddie Thawne, Sara Lance, Ray Palmer, Malcolm Merlyn, John Constantine, Kara Danvers, Mari McCabe, Victor Fries, Richard Greyson, and Diana Prince.
It's not a bad list. He'd eliminated the obvious candidates at once: Jax too young, Stein too old (and married already); Kendra and Carter, taken; Rip Hunter because Len had seen something in the timeline that made him practically froth at the mouth and try to murder him any time they ran into each other; Oliver Queen and Felicity Smoak because they were obviously going to marry each other (though Mick had put an asterisk beside their names - they seemed like good candidates for a proper triad marriage); the other so-called Team Arrow folks for their stance on Len's general means of employment; the vast majority of other supervillains for sheer insanity (Gotham, what the hell is wrong with you); anyone who was a working copper because of Len's bad associations from his dad; the Families because they were the Families; and most other criminals because they were dumb as rocks or sadists like Damien Darkh which, no.
No, Len needed someone who understood the superhero-supervillain aspects of his life, not a civilian - not even a criminal civilian.
Also, Harrison Wells was out on account of Mick not being able to keep track of which version of him was around.
Now it's time to narrow the list.
Fun.
Mick sighs and makes a few calls to some marriage auditors, sets up a few appointments, and goes.
His favorite of the lot ends up being a sharp-looking woman with a brisk, professional manner and an AA coin, who didn't blink twice at the fact that notorious arsonist/supervillain was in the market for a marriage auditor.
"My prices are non-negotiable," she says firmly. "You're on the hook for all investigation costs plus expenses, as well as my fee. There's an extra charge if any of the relevant individuals are hostile - just assume that you'll be paying it, given this list of names - but I can guarantee discretion as to your client, though I can't guarantee they won't find out someone has earmarked them for a marriage audit."
"Good," Mick says. He likes realistic people; the first few auditors had made outlandish claims of perfect privacy. "Given the names, you got any issues with conflicts of interest?"
D.L. Spears - Mick is probably one of the few people who can identify her on sight as the former Dinah Laurel Lance - studies him thoughtfully over her sharp-cut and totally unnecessary glasses.
"No," she says after a moment of contemplation. "I don't think that will be a problem."
"Feel free to add it to the fee," Mick suggests.
She smiles. "I'm not going to blow my cover after working this hard on it," she says. "Don't worry."
Mick shrugs. He's not worried. Though, now that he thinks about it -
"I'm not on the market," she informs him.
He closes his mouth and shrugs. It'd been worth a shot.
"I'll get you the files in two weeks."
Spears is as good as her word. The pile of paper that fills Mick's desk is considerable, thorough, and unflinching in its analysis of the potential marriage target's assets.
"Do you want me to help?" Len asks, studying the pile of paper.
"For your own marriage? Don't be absurd."
"Maybe Lisa...?"
"She's earned her vacation good and proper. Don't worry, Spears printed it on dyslexic-friendly paper in a good font - I'll be fine. Besides, it ain't like you're in a rush."
"True," Len concedes.
"Now shoo. Go have your playdate with the Flash."
"It's not a playdate..."
"Go!"
Len, grumbling, goes. But there's a spring in his step, even more than usual for him going to go play with the Flash, which means he's actually pleased by Mick's progress with the marriage hunt. Good. Mick would pull out of this messy business at the first sign of doubt or unwillingness, but no, it seems Len is quite serious about it.
There are a few off the list that he's able to narrow down fairly quickly. Malcolm Merlyn, for one, who Mick included on the list entirely on the basis of the few positive interactions he'd seen him have with the brainwashed past version of Len and a shared affinity for terrible humor while supervillaining, displays the widower's mark. Not all widowers put up that mark, which signified their disinterest in ever marrying again, but he had.
Probably for the best, really. Mick didn't much like the idea of living with that asshole.
Victor Fries is out for the same reason (widower’s mark, not assholery), which is too bad. Mick had been daydreaming about presenting that file to Len just to see his face – Mick could totally pitch it as the two of them being compatible on the “ice-related pun” spectrum. Hell, he might do that anyway, though Fries was clearly not going to be on the real final list.
Diana Prince's file just has a post-it note that says “IN HIS DREAMS” on it, underlined twice. Which, fair. Very fair.
Sam Scudder - "chronically unfaithful self-absorbed narcissist", good call Spears - is also off the list. Spears had noted down Lisa in the 'former lovers' pile, too, which Mick figured was an automatic no.
Rosa Dillon is out for the same reason. Lisa really needs to stop dating all the eligible supervillains.
Or maybe it was Lisa's exes that tended to become supervillains...?
Mick hesitates over Cisco Ramon. Joint love for puns, tech, intelligence - does he count as Lisa's ex? After a few moments of consideration, Mick leaves him on the list. A few kisses doesn't an ex-lover make.
Spears has helpfully highlighted how the resurrected Eddie Thawne and Iris West appeared to be considering an informal announcement to start one-on-one negotiations for their own marriage, but noted that that didn't preclude the possibility of a triad marriage. Mick crosses them off anyway - Eddie might not be an active cop at the moment, but he'd bet money he'd go back to it after the requisite time to recover from trauma.
John Constantine's file is taped shut, stapled, and glued for good measure. A pack of matches is attached via paperclip in case Mick wants to burn the file pre-emptively. Mick takes the hint.
He also, reluctantly, removes Dick Grayson from the list. Spears is right - his questionable willingness to leave Gotham aside, that is not an acceptable set of in-laws.
Harley - delightful as she is as a drinking buddy - is off the list in part due to that awful ex of hers. Also, Mick knew she was secretly dating Ivy; nice to finally have it confirmed.
Mari McCabe is noted down as being unwilling to leave Detroit, which knocks her off the list, too.
That leaves Mark Mardon, Hartley Rathaway, Selina Kyle, Cisco Ramon, Caitlin Snow, Barry Allen, Sara Lance, Ray Palmer, and Kara Danvers.
Well, tentatively Danvers. Spears asked for an extra week for that file, glaring and muttering something about an additional fee for alternate universes.
Mick paid her first outrageous bill without question; she has no room to whine.
Time to start eliminating names. He won’t be able to move on to interviews until he knocked it down to five at most.
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"Want help digging through those?" a female voice drawls from the door.
"I thought I told Len not to call you," Mick replies, twisting to frown at Lisa. "I'm fine doing this on my own."
"Oh, don't worry," she purrs. "I am totally ditching you the second we have to go into actual negotiations - I don't want to know anything about my brother's sex life, thanks! - but at least for the initial selection, I figured I'd show an interest."
"Len's dying of curiosity and sent you in his place so he can pretend to respect tradition," Mick translates.
"Got it in one." She drops down into the couch. "So, talk me through them. Any order."
"Candidate 1: Mark Mardon."
"Fellow supervillain, already rescued Len from prison once, probably can be counted on to do it again," Lisa says, nodding.
"He had a younger brother, so they can bond over that."
"Ugh, that'll just make Len even more unbearable. But sure. How do his assets look?"
Mick made a face.
"That bad?"
"He's not actually a very good thief."
"Len could help with that," Lisa points out.
"True," Mick concedes. "So he stays on the list."
"For now," Lisa says. "He does seem to have a bit of a - heh - tempestuous temper."
"Might kill Len if Len persists with weather-related puns," Mick recites aloud drolly as he jots down a note saying much the same.
"He might have a sense of humor!"
"Every man's got a limit - except your brother."
Lisa sniggers. "Who's next?"
"Hartley Rathaway."
"Bit young, isn't he?"
"Mid-twenties, so not young enough to be a bother," Mick says. "He's definitely gay, which is a point in his favor - I don't know about some of the others."
"Pros?"
"Tech guy - made his own, might be able to improve Len's. Supervillain. Has experience with disability issues. Pretty."
"You think everyone's pretty, Mick."
Mick shrugs. It's true.
"Cons?"
"His supervillain career this far consists of wrecking a single building. Might not be a supervillain now that he's on better terms with his millionaire parents - who we've stolen a shit ton of money from."
"They take that so personally," Lisa agrees.
"Also, my auditor says he's an annoying twit with daddy issues."
Lisa gives a surprised bark of laughter. "I like your auditor already. Leave him on the list?"
"Hm. Not sure. Not sure they'd mesh for a marriage."
"Why not?"
"He's born rich," Mick says. "Central City rich. Len..."
"As Central City poor as you get, and not even slightly fond of Cinderella stories. They'd culture clash."
"Being rich isn't a bad thing," Mick clarifies. "But an annoying shit that used to be rich? Could rub Len the wrong way and fast."
"Fair enough," Lisa agrees. "Besides, I heard he slept with Harrison Wells when they were working together."
Mick made a face. "Oh," he says. "That type of daddy issue."
"Not for Len."
"Definitely not. Next up, Selina Kyle."
"Gotham cat-burglar? I like her."
"Len does, too. Smart, sexy, likes stealing things..."
"Willing to leave Gotham?"
"Does it pretty regularly, I think."
"Bet she's got some pretty fine assets, too," Lisa says with a smirk.
"I already said she's sexy."
"And she's not taken?"
"Single at the moment, according to her file."
"Sounds pretty good," Lisa says. "Keep her on the list."
Mick marks her down.
"Who's next?" Lisa asks.
"Cisco Ramon."
"Hey! He's mine!"
"You only kissed him once or twice," Mick points out.
Lisa scowls at him. "I'm a little sister," she points out. "The rule of 'I licked it first means it's mine' has been applicable since I was five."
"Fine, fine. Just thought, y'know, with the naming thing. And the tech. And the bad jokes..."
Lisa sighs. "You're not wrong; they would get along. But remember, Lenny threatened his brother."
"You got over that with him," Mick points out.
"I didn't do the threatening, exactly..."
Mick rolls his eyes. "I'm taking him off the list, Lise. Just for you."
"You do that."
"What about his buddy, Caitlin Snow?"
Lisa hums thoughtfully. "Also hot," she says. "Hasn't she recently developed ice powers? Might lead to some competition."
"Competition is good," Mick says.
"True. No other objections on my end; let's look at her file."
The file is extensive. "Bad relationship with her mom," Lisa observes. "Maybe they could bond over shitty parents?"
"Is she really going around referring to herself in the third person?" Mick asks, somewhat dubious.
"Like Lenny hasn't done the same."
"True."
"Though I'm not sure that incipient dissociative identity disorder is necessarily what would be good for Lenny, though. He's got his own issues to work through."
"He has experience with people that have severe mental health issues," Mick points out. He is, after all, exhibit A.
"Okay, fine. She can stay on the - oh. Oh, no. Definitely not."
"What?"
"Look at the list of exes. What do they all have in common?"
Mick looks at it. "...a shockingly bad taste in men?" he hazards.
"They're all dead, Mick! Everyone she's so much as gone on a single date with! She's a black widow!"
"I'm sure it's coincidence. And I don't know if putting that Jay/Zoom guy on the list is really fair..."
"Black! Widow!"
"Len's been dead already; maybe he's immune."
"I'm not risking my big brother a second time."
Mick shrugs and crosses off Caitlin Snow's name. "If we're short on candidates, we can go back," he says.
Lisa nods, but he can tell from the way her arms are crossed in front of her that it'll be an uphill battle.
"Okay, next. Barry Allen."
"Intriguing suggestion."
"Especially since he’s definitely not the Flash."
"Oh, definitely not. We would never say that. It would be absurd."
"Totally absurd," Mick agrees. "You gotta admit that Len does like playing games with the Flash more than he likes just about anything else, though. Which isn't relevant because we're definitely not talking about the Flash."
“Very true. Could add a bit of spice to the relationship – if, of course, we were talking about the Flash. Which we’re not.”
“Nope. Just a regular old CSI with absolutely no hobbies whatsoever.”
"Exactly. Good assets," Lisa notes. "Got that inheritance from evil Wells, who was also definitely not involved in any way with the Flash."
"Not much luck with the girlfriends in recent years, but they ain't dead like Snow’s."
"Point in his favor. Girlfriends, you say? Any recent boyfriends?"
"No, but the report lists him as bi."
"Good. Dead parents, some experience with the jail thing with his dad..."
"He can stay on the list with Mardon," Mick decides.
Lisa nods. "Next?"
"Sara Lance."
"Lenny liked her," Lisa observes. "Not sure she's ready to settle down in Central, though."
"She might be," Mick points out.
They sift through the file. "Barely any assets," Mick notes. "Though I like that 'Captain of the Waverider' is listed in both the pro and con pile..."
"I'm concerned about the infidelity angle," Lisa says, frowning at the list of exes. "Who the hell sleeps with their sister's fiancé?"
Mick looks at her.
"Lenny and that bitch weren't engaged," Lisa says primly. "And certainly not with an automatic invalidation clause for infidelity."
"Just saying..."
"Someone needed to show him what a bitch she was, and you weren't willing to go the extra mile."
No, Mick hadn't been. Fair enough.
"She was a different person back then," he says, going back to Sara. "No League training, nothing. She's grown up."
"I don't know; didn't she sleep with him again when she got back?"
"Don't think he was affianced to her sister anymore by then."
"Still. Doesn't speak too highly of her character."
"She's not that bad."
Lisa arches an eyebrow.
"She ain't!"
"Her own sister put these files together," Lisa says. "And has recommended against. I say we listen."
Mick grumbles. "They kissed once," he protests. “S’more than can be said for some of these others.”
"Mick, read the post-it: not ready to settle down."
"Fine. No Sara. You know he'd want her on the list, though."
"Pity for him he went the traditional route and is letting us make the choices," Lisa says crisply. "Who's next?"
"Ray Palmer."
"Does Lenny even like him?"
"Haircut ain't that bad. Good assets, good tech work...hero complex..."
"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"
"Not sure, given who we're talking about."
"True."
They comb through his files.
"Unlucky in love," Lisa observes. "But he seems to be really committed to each one - and they're not all dead."
"He wants to settle down," Mick agrees. “That’s good.”
"Morally flexible enough to work with you and Len."
"Stays on the list?"
"Yeah, no serious objections."
"Okay. Last one on the current list - Kara Danvers. We're still waiting on her file."
"No Diana Prince?" Lisa asks, smirking.
Mick hands her the file with the "in his dreams" post-it.
Lisa laughs.
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"So, we're talking Mark Mardon, Selina Kyle, Barry Allen, Ray Palmer, and Kara Danvers," Spears says. "That's a good list of five."
"I thought so," Mick says. "Wouldn't mind your professional opinion."
"Some are more likely candidates than others," Spears says thoughtfully. "But I'd definitely feel comfortable progressing with all of these." She pauses. “Well, assuming you’re comfortable with the whole alien thing with Danvers.”
Mick shrugs. “Laser eyes and frost breath.”
“No, I get you, she’d stay on my list, too,” Spears agrees. “Ugh, I've never been so bi. You see the pictures?”
“I did. Skirt is kick-ass.”
“No kidding. The way she caught that derailing train…”
“Oh yeah.”
“You don’t think the cross-universe thing will be an issue?”
“Nah; Cisco made up something that enables jumping. They could split time between the two.”
“Fair enough. In that case, I’ll start a deeper dive on this set, see if there’s anything I missed and get you ready for interviews. Good luck.”
Mick makes a face, which makes Spears laugh.
"Oh, good," Mick grouses theatrically. "Interviews. And I'm such a people person."
"Try going in reverse order," Spears suggests. "Or alphabetical. Makes it less tortuous."
He ends up going in reverse alphabetical.
It's Len's suggestion.
"That way you can knock Palmer off early if he's uninterested," he says, looking excessively pleased by the thought.
"If you don't want to consider him..."
"No, no. You're right. Definitely more ready to settle down than Sara. And he's not unsalvageable."
Mick gives Len a look.
"Include mandatory classes on classism in the contract," Len suggests.
Mick is incredibly happy that he took Rathaway off the list.
Though Len's face when he'd "discovered" Fries and Snow's files in his last attempt at snooping had been little short of hilarious...
Mick hails the Waverider.
"I need to talk to Haircut," he growls into the comm device.
"Uh, okay. Sure. We're coming by 2017 anyway," Sara's voice buzzes back.
Mick shows up at the landing point and grabs Ray at the first moment he can.
"What's the rush?" Sara laughs. "Something broke?"
"Yeah," Mick replies promptly. "Gideon's detection of STDs. You might want to get that rash looked at, you know."
She grins and fist-bumps him for that one. They'd settled in a pleasantly bitchy form of interaction once Mick was no longer working for her. It worked for them a lot better than anything else had.
Mick takes Ray to a bar.
"This is unusually nice," Ray observes. "More homey than dive-y."
Mick hadn't noticed. He'd mostly cared about having a booth with some privacy.
"Sit," he orders.
Ray sits.
Mick orders them two beers and then studies Ray.
He's not sure it'll pan out in the end, a marriage between him and Len, but Ray's not a bad sort. He tries, if sometimes badly. He's enthusiastic. He's pretty. He wants to settle down with someone.
It could work.
Maybe after a few classes on privilege and classism, yes, but it could work.
"Uh, Mick?" Ray says cautiously. "What's up?"
"I need to talk to you about marriage," Mick says, figuring it's best to go straight into it. Subtlety is pointless in opening pitches.
"Oh? Oh! Uh. Um. Not that I'm not complimented, Mick, but you and me aren't really - I mean, I never thought - I mean -"
"Not me," Mick groans.
How had he forgotten? High intelligence, low wisdom, like Len liked to say. For such a genius, Ray could be incredibly dumb.
Ray looks relieved. "Oh, well," he says. "Not that you wouldn't be great for someone - oh! Is that what this is? Did you meet someone?" Ray's grin widens. "You and Snart finally tying the knot?"
"You're really into the choose-it-yourself method, aren't you?" Mick observes instead of answering that question with all the ‘it’s been thirty years and you think we’re just figuring out our relationship now’ scorn it deserves.
"Well, yes," Ray says. "I think the traditional marriage contract system is outdated and, frankly, a little excessively invasive, you know? All those rules and investigations, it sucks the whole mystery right out of it."
"There's not supposed to be mystery," Mick says. "It's a marriage! It's the person you shack up with for good, merging assets and shit, not an episode of Criminal Minds."
"I'm telling you, there's no romance in it," Ray says, shaking his head. "No discovery, nothing. And the process is - ugh! Can you even imagine having someone just decide several years of your life like that?"
Mick stares at him, willing him to remember Mick's stint as Kronos, bounty hunter and slave to the Time Masters.
Ray blinks at him, utterly oblivious.
"Sooo," he says after a few moments of silence. "I'm guessing you didn't bring me here to debate, though. What's up?"
Mick studies him for a few more minutes.
High intelligence, low wisdom.
Hero complex, possibly a martyrdom complex.
Still called Len 'Snart' after all this time.
Bad at identifying human relationships, like where Mick and Len were with theirs.
Incredibly bad at recognizing boundaries.
Actually, now that he thinks about it, Mick distinctly remembers how Ray thought dressing up like Snart – when he was dead – and yammering on about his existential crisis until Mick had felt obligated to give him a pep talk was a good idea. He'd done too good a job of forgetting about that little incident when he was making the list.
Thinks that finding ‘true love’ by sheer magic was a better approach to marriage than the good old-fashioned contracting system.
Yeah, no.
"...one of my old buddies is getting married," he says, calling the game over before it's even started. "I need help thinking of present ideas."
Ray brightens. "I can help with that - heck, I can probably build something really interesting for them! What are you thinking?"
Mick shakes his head a little and suggests a few things.
The evening's a bust, but at least he gets Ray to pay for the drinks and he's pretty sure Ray actually will make him those 'presents', so at least Ray won't come to Len's wedding empty-handed.
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Next on the list: Mark Mardon.
Finding him is a trick and a half; Mick ends up recruiting Spears, who uses weather patterns to track him down.
It costs an arm and a leg; she apparently charges extra for felonies involving breaking into the National Weather Service.
So maybe Mick's a bit grumpy when he ends up in the tail end of nowhere, shooting flames into a thundercloud.
"Seriously?" he shouts. "I come in peace, asshole!"
The thundercloud subsides. Mardon squints at him from what had been its center. "You do?"
"Yeah," Mick says. "What the hell?"
"Thought Snart decided to cut me out," Mardon says cautiously. "After that job at Christmas went south..."
"I'm not Snart," Mick grumbles. "And no. He ain't the vengeful type."
"Huh. He need me for a job?"
Eager. He was probably short on cash.
"No," Mick says. "You got time to talk?"
"Talk?" Mardon sneers. "You gone soft and touchy-feely, Rory? Heard you were associating with heroes..."
Mick sighs. Tempestuous doesn't even begin to describe Mardon. But Snart can cool down just about anyone...
"I want to talk marriage," Mick says. "You got a best man I need to clear first, or can we get to the talking?"
Mardon blinks. "Uh," he says. "Marriage?"
"Yeah. You turn into an echo machine?"
"No. And, uh, no best man to clear; I'm available. Who are you on behalf of?"
Mick stares at him mutely.
"Lisa Snart?" Mardon asks hopefully. "Shawna? What about, what's her name -"
"Are you straight?" Mick asks flatly. The file hadn't been able to answer that, since Mardon was off the grid most of the time and the rest of the time he was of the 'drunk hitting on anything moving' variety.
"Uh, yeah. Mostly. Why?"
Mick sighs. He’d hoped for better than 'mostly straight'.
Of course, Len's always been pretty enough to turn heads regardless of orientation...
"Who'd you originally think I was here for?" he asks instead.
Mardon frowns at him.
Mick arches his eyebrows right back at him.
Enlightenment hits. "Wait. Snart?"
"That's the one. Not his sister."
Mardon considers the issue for a few minutes. "Okay, sure," he finally says. "Might be worth it. Come inside."
Mardon's living in an old abandoned shack that maybe called itself a farm, and even Mick - who doesn't have the highest requirements for cleanliness - is annoyed by the mess.
Guess having stuff all over the floor matters less if you can float.
Mick settles down in a chair and pulls out his list of questions.
It doesn't take too long to figure out that Mardon is, in fact, even more straight than the 'mostly' straight he'd disclosed and is primarily interested in Len as a prospective criminal partner.
This wouldn’t be a deal breaker, except that Len already has one.
"But wouldn't I take precedence after we were married?" Mardon asks, scrunching his nose up after Mick points that out.
"Me and Len’ve been partners for nearly thirty years," Mick says, trying without much success to keep his voice even. No strangling the marriage prospects, Mick; it's bad form. "Him getting married ain't gonna change that."
"But -"
"Yes, I'd still be going on jobs with him. Yes, he'd still be splitting the take with me. You would be invited when appropriate, same as always - probably more often, sure, but this is a marriage contract."
Mardon crosses his arms. "Exactly," he says triumphantly. "I can work it into the contract."
Mick rolls his eyes. "The contract I'm negotiating, you mean?"
"Yeah! Oh, and about that - I wanna be the guy."
Mick pauses. He'd been about to point out the futility of assuming that Mick would ever willingly write himself out of Len's life - or of Len ever putting his name to such a contract - but that last bit threw him.
"You're...both...guys?" he says cautiously. "Least, your file didn't say anything about being designated different at birth."
Now it's Mardon's turn to roll his eyes. "The guy in the marriage," he clarifies. "You know." He makes an incomprehensible gesture.
"I'm pretty sure Len's a switch," Mick says dubiously. "I mean, he's probably got no problem with letting you top once in a while, but I don't think he'd be interested in locking in anything - anyway, we're just interviewing. Way too early to talk about sex."
"It's important to get it straight up front," Mardon says, and blissfully appears utterly oblivious to the horrific pun he just made. Mick wishes he could be so lucky. "Not the sex stuff, though that’s important too. More, like, I want to be the 'care for' guy, not the one who does the 'love and obey' stuff."
Mick's eyebrows shoot up. "That's a pretty damn old-fashioned marriage formulation." It'd mostly gone out of fashion around the time of feminism, though there were still some religious groups that pushed it.
"It's the right one."
Mick opens his mouth to try and explain that the likelihood of Leonard Snart ever honoring an "obey" provision in a contract, but gives it up as hopeless. "I'll mention it to him," he says. "That's about all I've got for questions, actually."
"Really? You've got a much longer list."
"Filler to make it look more impressive," Mick lies.
Mardon nods. "Fair enough. Let me know what he says, yeah?"
"Sure," Mick says agreeably.
Pursuant to his word, he turns his phone on 'record' before handing Len a summary of Mardon's "offer".
Len's howls of disdainful laughter are always worth keeping a record of, even if Len does eventually convince Mick not to mail them over and send a standard "thanks but incompatible" letter instead.
"We might - heh - want him for a job - hehe - in the future," Len says, still sniggering every few words. "Really, though? Love and obey? Ye old submissive wifey bullshit?"
"Yep."
"Seriously? Me?"
"Some people still go in for that. He may've just been trying to negotiate leverage on the criminal partner point, though."
"In which case I'm still better off without," Len says firmly. "Such terrible negotiating skills - and at the interview phase, no less! - I can do without being bound to in matrimony. Least he could’ve done is wait to try the gambit at the contract stage."
Mick nods, agreeing.
"So,” Len drawls. Despite two failures, his eyes are bright with interest. After all, if this search fails, Mick just needs to go back to the drawing board. “Who's next on the list?"
"Kyle."
"Selina?” Len says approvingly. “I like her."
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
 Selina Kyle, unfortunately, means Gotham.
Gotham is a monstrosity of stone and steel, an entire city that thinks that corporate development ought to be modeled on Gothic and neo-Gothic styles (get it? Gotham, Gothic?...Mick's stopping now. It's all Len's fault) and a fetish for warehouses and a seemingly endless supply of abandoned buildings.
Mick has always rather liked Gotham as a city. Len, too. They have great pizza and their halal carts are unquestionably the best in the country.
The only real problem with Gotham, of course, is its infestation of Bats.
Well, also there’s the army of bizarrely costumed psychopaths and a criminal justice system that makes Iron Heights look friendly.
But mostly Bats.
"I didn't even bring my heat gun," Mick grumbles, putting his hands up against the wall so the Bat of the Week can search him while his companion keeps watch. He doesn't know which one is which - small flying rodent or small flying bird? - because he doesn't keep track of their ever-shifting costumes and nicknames.
Arkham supposedly has a bulletin board up in the inmates lounge to help the inmates with memory issues keep up. Mick's never been as anything more than a visitor, a trend he's very interested in continuing.
"You come here straight from Central and start heading to Arkham," the Bat says. "It's suspicious."
"I'm looking for someone," Mick says. "Figured I'd ask around for them somewhere that might know. It ain't a crime!"
"With you guys, it's usually the precursor to one," the smaller figure - a Robin of some variety - says. "Where's your chillier half?"
"Back in Central," Mick replies. "There's a Combines game on and the nut thinks they have a chance this year."
"Actually, if you look at the statistics -" the Robin starts.
The Bat pointedly clears his throat.
The Robin stops, looking abashed.
Mick squints at him. "You Bats or Nightwing?" he asks.
The Bat arches his eyebrows. "Why?"
"I’ve always heard that Nightwing’s ass is worth the tourist trip," Mick says honestly. "Figured if I'm here already, I ought to see the highlights, y'know?"
The Robin falls off his perch sniggering. The Bat buries his head in his hands.
Definitely Nightwing.
"Batman is patrolling a different part of the city tonight," Nightwing says, though he sounds amused. "Why are you here, really?"
"Marriage contract."
That gets them - at last - to step away, letting Mick put down his arms and rub at them.
"Really?" the Robin says, sounding somewhere between pleasurably scandalized and actually horrified. "A real marriage contract?"
"Just at the interview stage," Mick assures them.
"Who's getting married?" Nightwing asks.
"Cold."
"Really?!"
"Hell, you were on my initial list," Mick tells him. "He likes heroes."
“What, really?” Nightwing says, sounding horrified himself.
"And all without seeing your ass, too," the Robin says gleefully. “What kicked him off the list?”
“The in-laws.”
That gets both of them cackling like there’s no tomorrow.
“I like that,” Nightwing says, wiping his eyes. “Oh, that’s good, that’s good. Yes. Good. Wait, you were headed to Arkham? Don’t tell me one of them’s on your list!”
“Nah. I told you, I just need to find somebody, and Arkham’s gossip network is second to none.”
“That’s depressing,” the Robin murmurs. “And yet – true.”
“Who’re you looking for, then?”
“Kyle.”
They blink owlishly at him. “Selina Kyle?” Nightwing hazards.
“That’s the one,” Mick confirms. “Catwoman.”
“Well, they are both thieves,” Nightwing says dubiously.
“Very good thieves,” the Robin corrects. “As far as pure theft-based supervillains, they’re in a class more or less by themselves – no offense meant, Heatwave –”
Mick waves a forgiving hand. He usually classifies himself more as an arsonist than a thief, anyway.
“Plus,” the Robin continues, look of growing dismay, “they’re both mixed-race, come from lower-class families, work occasionally with heroes…does Cold like cats?”
“Yeah, we have a few strays that we feed on a pretty regular basis near our safehouse,” Mick replies. He does most of the feeding, true, but Len likes to pet them; surely that’s close enough.
“That…might work,” Nightwing says. He also sounds dismayed. “That might actually work really well.”
Mick looks between the two of them suspiciously. They’re a bit too upset about this. Unless…
“Aw, crap,” he says. “Tell me she ain’t knocking boots with Bat Prime.”
“What? Uh. No!” Nightwing says. "Definitely not. Why would you think that? That's ridiculous."
“Wow,” the Robin says. “That was absolutely awful. Worst lying I've ever seen. How does everyone not know who you are already?”
“You said it, kid,” Mick says, holding his hand up for a fist-bump, which the Robin automatically does, then looks appalled by his own hand's betrayal. “But seriously. They’re shacked up? Why didn’t that come up on the marriage audit?”
“You ran a marriage audit on Catwoman?” the Robin says, sounding impressed. "Can I have the number of your auditor?"
“I mean, they’re not currently together,” Nightwing admits. “But, you know, off and on…”
They both look hopefully at him.
Mick considers the issue. “No,” he says finally. “Sorry. She’s too good a prospect. I’m still going ahead with the interview.”
“But she’s the only one who makes him tolerable,” Nightwing whines.
“Not my problem,” Mick says, just a little maliciously. “I live in Central, and she ain’t married to Gotham the way Snart is to Central.”
“You know she’ll still have to work with the big guy for team-ups,” Nightwing points out. “All that simmering sexual tension, all still there…”
Mick shrugs. “You say that like Snart wouldn’t be up for a threesome.”
They both look appalled.
Mick mentally blesses Len’s pansexuality and also makes a mental note to steal the security tapes covering this roof for posterity.
“So, if you don’t mind, since I’m actually not breaking any laws right now…”
They let him go rather quickly, scurrying off in their own directions.
Mick suspects they’re off to interfere by telling Bat Prime he's about to lose the best thing he's got.
Fine, whatever. It’s an open field.
He swings by Arkham – “Mick, baby, don’t tell me you’re going off-market; tell me it’s really Snart,” Harl purrs at him, which how does the gossip go so fast, really, aren't they supposed to be locked up? – and gets a tip-off on where to find the Catwoman.
“I assume you’ve already heard what I’m here for,” he tells her when he finds her. “Judging by how fast gossip in this city moves.”
Selina blinks. “No,” she says. “It may have missed me.”
“Really?” Mick asks. “Okay. I’m here to interview you regarding a marriage contract, provided you’re amendable.”
“For whom?”
“Leonard Snart, Captain Cold. Central City.”
She considers it for a moment. “Yes,” she says. “I’m amendable. Perhaps after I’ve finished robbing this jewelry store?”
Mick shrugs. “Knock yourself out.”
She pauses for an additional second. “Would you like to join in?”
Aw, that’s nice. She’s polite, too. “Nah, your heist.”
“Please, take a bracelet at least, I insist.”
Mick pockets a nice gold one with rubies and nods a thank-you. Len will probably want to give it to the Flash to confuse him.
A short sprint from the cops later, they settle down at a nice café to talk.
“So,” Selina purrs.
“I’m friends with Harl and just came from Arkham,” Mick reminds her. “I’ve already hit my purring quota for the day.”
Selina snorts much more inelegantly. “Okay, I’ll give you that. So, Snart, huh?”
“Yeah,” Mick says. “Excellent thief, sometimes villain-sometimes hero, smart, snarky. Even a pair of small winged creatures agreed that you’d make a good match.”
“They did, did they?” Selina grins.
“They object,” Mick tells her, because marriage contract negotiations are so full of landmines anyway it’s not worth being anything less than fully up front. “You’re apparently the only thing that makes Bat Prime tolerable.”
Selina hums. “Well,” she says, playing with a lovely diamond necklace that she’s draped across her fingers. “That’s his problem, isn’t it?”
Mick grins.
---------------------------------------------------------------------
“So, Selina’s still on the list,” Mick informs Len.
“Really?” Len drawls, making grabby-hands at Mick’s notes.
“Oh, yeah. High class lady, excellent thief, flexible morality, experience with individuals with mental illness, polite, pretty –”
“You think everybody is pretty.”
“- and willing to consider relocating to Central.”
“Not bad,” Len says, looking pleased. "Who's next?"
"Kara Danvers."
Len frowns, his normally eidetic memory searching and coming up empty. "Do I know her?"
"Told you about her. Supergirl."
"Flame-eyes, frost-breath, flying, alien ray of sunshine?"
"That's the one."
Len considers. "Well," he says after a moment. "I won't say I'm not intrigued..."
Mick crosses his arms. "I thought I was running this process."
Len holds up his hands. "I defer, I defer! You know what I like, and this Miss Danvers does sound right up my alley. I like strong women." He pauses. "I don't suppose you considered -"
"Diana Prince is labeled 'in your dreams'."
Len considers this for a moment. "Yeah," he says. "Fair enough."
Mick permits Len to interfere to the extent of lifting Cisco's universe-hopper, but then bans him. Len goes to sulk.
Not too much, though. The Combines are actually winning, much to their own and everybody else's shock.
(Captain Cold and the Flash's most recent team-up involved intimidating the living daylights out of some aggressive Penguins fans who had been casting aspirations on their fair city. Mick, who personally did not get hockey but did get fighting, took a particular pleasure in revving up the crowd in their favor. The newspaper covers had been epic. And vicious. It's been a good long while since the Central City Combines were in shooting distance of the Cup.)
Meanwhile, Mick goes to an alternate universe.
The trip is -
Well, it's not as bad as time-jumping for a newbie, but it's pretty disorienting.
Jumping straight into a government facility seems like a bad idea, but apparently the employees are used to it and just tell him that Kara will be back after she defeats some giant metal robot.
Team Supergirl march in, looking pretty pleased with themselves. "Mick!" Kara says, already floating a few inches off the ground and bouncing upwards in a moment of delight.
"Heya, Skirt. You never called; I'm hurt."
"Go to STAR Labs more often," she shoots back, grinning. "Maybe they'll give you your calls."
Mick snorts. Kara laughs. Most of her buddies grin, though one of them is scowling (or pouting?) at the easy way Mick wraps an arm around her shoulder.
"But seriously," she continues, still smiling. "What's up in Earth-1? Barry need help."
"Nah. I'm here on personal business."
"Oh?"
"Yeah. You got a duly nominated rep for marriage talks, or do you handle yourself?"
Kara blinks at him.
"I'm not sure how old you are," Mick says defensively. "You could have a rep."
"A representative - " she started.
"For marriage talks?" one of Team Supergirl yowls.
"Yeah," Mick says. Okay, okay, Danvers doesn’t actually look under 18; if she had been, he wouldn’t have selected her. It was supposed to be a joke.
"Are you proposing to her?" one of the others demands. He's pretty, albeit in a bland sort of way.
"What? No. Marriage talks. You know. Contract stuff."
Everyone's expressions fade into confusion.
Mick's slow, yes, but he also watches (involuntarily!) a fair amount of sci-fi. "Hey, wait," he says, frowning. "Do you even have marriage in this universe?"
Kara giggle-snorts. "Yeah," she says, grinning crookedly. "We do. Why don't you tell us what you mean, though? It's probably different."
Turns out Kara's Earth is a wholly self-starter sort of place.
"And no contracting at all?" Mick asks, mildly horrified. "But how do you figure out assets?"
"I mean, sometimes rich couples have prenups..."
"But - living conditions! Behavior expectations! Null clauses! Or - or sex, fuck, how the hell do you guys handle sex? Do you just make it up as you go? That's like the number one null clause leading to divorce in self-starter contracts, incompatible expectations on sex."
Kara's shoulders are shaking. "I don't know," she says, barely able to speak for laughter. "Clearly we're very, uh, behind. Which would probably be a clause in someone’s contract –" She dissolves into giggles again.
"Please ignore my sister," Alex says, failing to suppress her own smile. She's been the most helpful so far, with Winn being a close second. "I really like this best man process you describe, though."
"Yeah, it's supposed to encourage bonds, trusting someone like that. There's no shame in going for a pro, though - not everyone has a family, or their family suck at negotiating, and no one wants to be stuck in a bad contract - shit, what do you guys do about abuse? That's gotta be a null clause, right?"
"Null clause?"
"Nullification," Mick clarifies. "Automatic penalties, usually up to and including the dissolution of the marriage. Y'know -"
"We really don't," said the yet-unnamed pretty-if-bland man, glancing at Kara. He keeps alternating between friendly and personable when the subject is general and kinda bitchy whenever they talk about Kara.
Mick rolls his eyes. "Three instances of abuse means you gotta go to a marriage mediator center, either to split up assets or renegotiate your marriage on stricter terms, with a supervisory period to ensure that no further abuse happens. The mediators are pretty well trained in domestic abuse, since it's basically their job, so they can spot it early and enforce more strictly. There are false reports, of course, but not nearly as common as you might think, given the penalties of misreporting..."
"Wish we had that," the cop (Maggie?) says, nodding her head. "We have a lot of people who refuse to report it, even after it’s obvious."
"And there's no duress in the original marriage process?" Alex checks.
"No, it has to be mutually agreed and approved by the parties involved. I'm my buddy Len's best man, so I set up the interviews and that initial stuff. Then there's the chaperoned courting period, followed by the real contracting." He grins at Kara. "Wanna give it a shot?"
"You know what," she says, lifting her head and smiling. "Sure."
"What?!" pretty boy yelps.
"It'll be really interesting to explore! Besides, it solves our 'over-exposure to Supergirl' problem that Cat was talking about," she points out. "Clark said that the reason we can't take vacations is because we can always hear people who need our help, but if I go spend some time in Earth-1..."
Alex and Winn and some of the others are nodding, but pretty boy looks upset. "But Kara-"
"You're the one who wanted to take a step back and 'reevaluate' our relationship," Kara says, her voice still cheerful but also steely. "I'm reevaluating."
"But - marriage?"
Kara shrugs. "Arranged marriages were more of a thing on Krypton, too," she says wistfully. "Honestly, this system sounds a lot like it. I didn't think I'd ever get the chance - Alex, will you be my best man? Uh, woman?"
"Of course!"
"I didn't mean -" pretty boy starts.
"You meant you wanted some time off to get your head wrapped around your shit and for her to be waiting when you got back," Mick says knowingly. "Doesn't work that way, y'know."
"It wasn't that! After what happened, with my family and all, it was for Kara's sake -"
"I'm pretty sure Kara can decide what her sake means," Mick says. He's pretty sure he dated someone like pretty here, once; Len had resorted to the 'I'm your best friend and you should trust me' card to end the relationship, and after some reflection it had in fact turned out for the best. "So, Skirt, whaddiya say?"
She grins. "Let me pack my things."
----------------------------------------------------------------------
With at least two candidates locked down for the next stage, Mick’s feeling pretty confident going into the last interview.
He’s pegged his chances of Barry Allen agreeing to the courtship stage at about 50%.
On one hand, Barry was clearly the settling down type. Good assets. Devoted to Central. Clearly attracted to Len.
On the other hand, he's a hero. He might not be interested in giving it a shot - or he might be guilted out of even participating by his friends.
Mick mulls it over for a bit before timing his approach with the sort of skill he likes to think even Len would admire.
He gate-crashes a Barry-and-Iris movies-and-bitching session. Oh, sure, it was supposed to be a West family movie night, but Wally was busy with university and Joe had a date.
Mick had been willing to start a crime surge to distract Joe if necessary, but he got lucky.
He knocks at the door.
"Must be the pizza," he hears Barry say.
The door opens.
"...it's not the pizza," Barry concludes, disappointed.
Mick arches his eyebrows and brandishes the bag filled with pizza boxes that he'd taken off the terrified but well-compensated delivery boy.
"Never mind," Barry says again. "It's the pizza, but with, like, a side of supervillain."
"Can I come in?" Mick asks. "I wanna talk."
Most people would demand an explanation, but Barry just blinks, looks him up and down for a weapon - like Mick would be that dumb - and then steps aside.
"You're very trusting," Mick observes. He's not sure if that's on his pros or cons. On one hand - that's dumb when you have as many enemies as Len. On the other, Barry actually likes Len, probably as a direct result.
"You gonna do something?"
"No."
"Then we're fine."
Mick rolls his eyes. "Heya, newsie," he greets Iris. The nickname never fails to get a grin.
"You need me to go?" she asks.
"Nah," Mick says. "If I'm figuring right, you're gonna be a necessary part of the proceedings."
"Is there a threat?" Barry asks, looking concerned.
Mick shakes his head. "Personal business."
They both blink at him. "Now I'm intrigued," Iris says. "What personal business?"
"Marriage contract."
They both blink again. Iris is the first to smile. "For Leonard?" she asks, having somehow managed to bond with Len when they'd both been locked in a room for their own good during a ghost invasion. "Good for him!"
"Snart's getting married?" Barry asks. He looks perturbed, but not in a bad way. More in a 'but he's my villain and that'll take away from playtime' sort of way.
"Yeah," Mick says. "I'm assuming Iris here's your best man?"
Iris squeaks and claps her hands together.
Barry's a little slower on the update. "Yeah, Iris is my - oooooooh, wait. You're here to interview me?"
There are many things Mick could say. He could point out their compatible points, like with Selina; he could sell the benefits of going through the process itself, like with Kara.
He opts for what he thinks is a more persuasive approach.
"Len likes you," he says.
Barry flushes, but he's smiling. "He does? Really? Enough for marriage?"
"He's only at the request for proposals stage," Iris reminds Barry. "But clearly, you did make Mick's final five - and Leonard has been pestering you more than usual the last few weeks..."
"Won't the superhero thing be an issue?" Barry asks.
Mick mentally cheers. He'd decided to himself that if Barry asked about the 'supervillain thing', it wouldn't work out - it meant Barry was thinking about how he couldn't morally unbend himself enough to marry Len, looking for reasons not to. But if Barry asked about the 'superhero thing', well.
That meant he was worried Len would object to his suit, not why he should object to Len's. Very good.
"Snart thinks a healthy amount of disagreement is good for a marriage," Mick says with perfect honesty. "You're not the only hero on the short list."
"Wait, there are other heroes?" Barry looks adorably infuriated. "Who?"
"On the short list? Ray Palmer, Kara Danvers."
"...not Sara Lance?" Barry asks. "Or Oliver Queen?"
"Blondie ain't ready to settle down," Mick says, and sees Iris nod in agreement. "And Queen - you're kidding, right?"
"It could be!"
"Stop being unreasonably jealous of Oliver," Iris chides Barry. "Oliver's in love with Felicity; he's not going to steal your bad guy."
"I did consider them for a triad marriage," Mick says, enjoying the look of indignation on Barry's face, "but they'd never move to Central, and Snart'll never leave."
"Good," Barry says firmly, nodding.
Iris is smirking.
Mick winks at her, which gets a grin.
The mutual possessiveness of Captain Cold and the Flash is practically a Central City in-joke at this point.
Mick had to fight a gorilla once because of it. He's never talking about that incident ever again.
"So," Mick says. "That mean we can start interviewing?"
"Uh, sure," Barry says. "I've never been interviewed before, so, uh, advance warning if I suck at it."
"What, never?" Mick asks, somewhat surprised. "I mean, sure, you're pretty young for it, but..."
Barry grins crookedly. "Thanks for the vote of confidence. But a weirdo CSI with a supernatural events blog and a dad in prison isn't on most people's shortlist. And it's not like anyone knows about the other bit."
Mick's pretty sure everybody knows about the 'other bit', but sure, whatever.
…he’s going to have to look up that blog, though. For, uh, reasons.
Mockery reasons.
"Okay," he says. "Sounds weird to me, but let's go on with the interview."
"Are you okay with Leonard picking Barry?" Iris asks.
"I’m the one that made the shortlist," Mick points out.
"But still," Iris persists. Fair enough, Mick supposes; even he’d originally put names on the longer list that he wouldn’t have wanted Len to pick, just because he thought they might be compatible.
"I'm good with it," he confirms. "We worked together well enough during the alien business -" Iris sighs and casts her eyes upwards at the sheer ridiculousness of it all while Barry nods. "- and anyway, the kid's pretty."
"I'm pretty sure you find everybody pretty," Barry says dryly, then brightens. "Hey, see what I did there?"
Mick jumps ahead and checks off 'willing to tolerate terrible puns' off his interviewing checklist, even as Iris groans and swats at Barry.
Then Barry's face falls. "Iris, what about Joe? Do you think he'll..?"
And this, ladies and gentlemen, is why Mick picked a time when Iris West was around to make his interview request.
Iris West, who would be officially engaged if not already married to her resurrected fiancé if not for her father dragging his feet for increasingly stupid reasons (including 'but Barry' long after Barry has given Iris his blessing to resume her relationship with Eddie).
Iris' eyes flash and her smile goes a bit steely. "Dad's always wanted you to go through the process," she points out. "And, yeah, he might disapprove at the end, but that's never stopped you from teaming up with Snart before."
"True..."
"So why not give it a shot? Worst case, you can always reject the final suit."
Barry is nodding. Mick moves in to strike while the iron is hot.
"First question," he says. "What are you looking for in a marriage?"
Barry leans forward, smiling. "Well -"
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Not bad," Spears says approvingly. "I can definitely focus my deep dive into these three. Certainly easier than explaining why I'm auditing a dead man like Palmer."
"After Thawne the Good came back in quite such a public manner," Mick says dryly, "I don't think too many people will question it."
"You'd be surprised," Spears returns, just as dry. "Rich people that left behind complicated wills tend not to be welcomed quite as cheerfully."
Mick snorts. "So how long will the deep dive take?"
"A month, month and a half," she says. "I know it's not the fastest timing for only three people and I'll aim for doing it quicker, but one of them is from an alternate universe..."
"Say, how are you getting your intel? I didn't give you Cisco's universe-hopper."
"A professional never reveals her secrets."
"Let me guess, you picked that up from the office next door - what’s-her-name - 'Zatanna the Magician'?"
"She's great," Spears says primly.
"I ought to introduce you to Harl," Mick says, pulling out his phone and sending a text to that effect. "There. You'll get along."
"Harl?" Spears says warily. "You don't mean Harley Quinn, do you?"
"You'll love her," Mick assures her. Spears doesn't look really reassured.
"Well, she'll probably be good background research for Kyle, at least..."
"That's the spirit. Now I've got some dates to set up."
"Chaperoned dates," Spears says, grinning wickedly. "Have fun!"
Mick rolls his eyes.
Len is practically buzzing with excitement - and, atypically for him, a touch of nervousness. "I think you've picked really good prospects," Len tells him. "They're all, uh..."
"Out of your league?"
Len sniffs, pride not letting him concede the fact. But he's grinning.
"First up is Kara Danvers," Mick says.
"You think it'll work out, something like that? It'll have to be long-distance, sometimes."
"That's true with all of the ones I picked for you, Lenny," Mick says truthfully. "You need your space sometimes, even from people you like."
"Fair enough. So what are we doing?"
"Sweet and traditional: visiting the space museum, taking a walk through the park in the evening, before going back for a tour of the telescope once evening falls."
Len seems about to object, then the idea hits him full on. “Going to look at space with an alien?”
“Thought you’d like that.”
“I’ll even buy her an ice cream.”
He does, amusingly enough. He and Kara start out a little awkward, dancing around each other a bit – it almost certainly doesn’t help that Mick and Alex are hanging out nearby.
“Maybe we should try to back off a bit,” Alex says, studying the two of them. “Can we do that?”
“Not really,” Mick says. “Chaperoned means we have to be in sight and hearing distance at all times to keep ‘em from making any unapproved deals. Besides, they’d know we were there no matter how backed off we went. I’ve got a better idea.”
Within a few minutes, he and Alex have parked themselves in front of an exhibit about the moon and are loudly and obnoxiously debating the reality of the moon landing.
Len and Kara figure them out pretty quickly and seem to hit it off from there, both sets of shoulders relaxing as they wander the museum. Len is unable to resist pointing out how one would break into the place, because of course he is, but luckily Kara seems to take it as a demonstration of skill rather than a kleptomaniac's way of looking at the world and finds it - in her own words - adorable.
They also spend a fairly large portion of the date complaining about prior boyfriends.
"Is that a good sign or a bad sign?" Mick asks Alex.
"Bad sign," she replies, making a face. "Diversion?"
Mick nods, crushes his soda can, and pitches it at the two of them.
(Kara catches it without looking. Len looks impressed.)
"Not what I meant!" Alex yelps.
Mick sniggers.
It does work, though; the conversation veers off into a discussion of the criminal justice system. Kara's very interested in Len's perspective.
"Is this a date or a study session?" Mick asks Alex.
"Well, her day job is journalism..."
The museum and the park go well.
The telescope visit for two (with chaperones) goes - weird.
Well, it's fine at first, but then the scientist invites Kara to look wherever she likes and she pops off some coordinates, smiling wistfully.
And then she looks.
"Oh my god!" she shrieks. "Krypton! It's there! It's still there!"
"Wait, Krypton?" Len asks, alarmed. "As in Kryptonians?"
"Yes!"
"As in the planet with that crazy woman that tried to make Mick marry her and which currently worships me as a god?"
...crap.
Mick knew he'd heard of Kryptonians before.
"Wait, wait, a Kryptonian tried to marry Mick?! Why? No offense, Mick!"
"We just dealt with a crazy Daxamite named Rhea trying to get legitimacy to rule earth by forcing a marriage," Alex observes. "Something like that?"
"What do you mean 'why Mick'?" Len demands, indignant.
"That's not what I meant!"
"It was nothing like that," Mick assures Alex. "She wanted me to go home with her, not come here. It was mostly because of my reputation as a time travelling bounty hunter."
"And wait, what crazy woman are you referring to? What was her name? Do I know her?"
"I don't know her name! I was too busy keeping her from kidnapping Mick!"
"Time travelling bounty hunter, huh?" Alex asks. "Glad we don't have those."
"That you know of, you mean."
"True..."
"Kryptonians don't kidnap their brides!"
"How would you know? You just said you were something like thirteen when you left -"
"Do your people kidnap brides?"
"I don't know, maybe! Appalachia can be a weird place sometimes."
"Well, my parents were involved in the government, so -"
"Wait, your parents? What were their names?"
"Zor-El and Alura Zor-El."
"Any relation to an Astra Zor-El?" Mick calls over to them.
"Uh, that’s my aunt," Kara replies, alarmed.
"That's the one," Mick confirms.
"Your aunt tried to kidnap Mick," Len grumbles.
"She tried to kidnap me to," Kara says. "To be fair."
Len rolls his eyes.
"Wait," Alex says. "What was that bit about Krypton worshiping you as a god, Len?"
The rest of the date dissolves into endless hilarity after that point.
At the very end, Mick turns to Alex - pointedly turning his back so he can ignore the illicit good-night kiss going on behind him - and asks, "So, second date?"
"I think so," Alex says.
"Think it'll work out?"
"Probably not."
"Yeah," Mick says regretfully. Having laser-eyes around more often would’ve been fun – not to mention the kids… "Agreed."
"They'll probably end up being good friends," Alex says. "Long-distance pen pals. I mean, I'm no relationship expert..."
"Nah, that read like budding friendship to me, too. Lots of mutual interests, not much chemistry."
Alex peeps around Mick's shoulder. "They might disagree."
"Friends with benefits. Max. I'd bet money."
"Fair enough. Should we tell them?"
"Nah. Let 'em go through the process. You never know."
Alex nods, grinning. "I'm just sorry I won't be able to negotiate one of those contracts."
"I'll give you the books I have on how to do it," Mick offers. "If Kara likes it, just do it."
"I'll take you up on that offer," Alex laughs.
Mick's fairly sure both he and Len have ended up with long-distance pen pals.
Nice.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Okay, so date number two with Kara is lined up for down the line -" Mick starts.
"I like her," Len says. "Not sure I'd marry her - pretty sure she wouldn't marry me, given how hung up she is on some people, multiple people, back on her earth - but I like her. Would definitely team up with."
"Good to know," Mick says earnestly.
Too earnestly. Len's eyes narrow.
"You already guessed."
"Yep."
Len grins. "And that's why I picked the right best man."
"You bet your ass you did. Now, number two was supposed to be Barry Allen, but he had to cancel to go beat in Scudder's face again -"
"Good reason."
"- so we're moving on to date three, Selina Kyle."
"What's the date?"
"The big department store in Keystone," Mick says.
"We're going shopping?"
"That sounds just like what I'd pick for a date for two master-class theives," Mick says dryly. "Place just got a new shipment of sapphire pendants. Some shaped like cats."
Len grins. "Good date."
"I thought you'd like it."
"No better way to get to know another thief's working style," Len agrees, then pauses. "Wait, aren't the dates supposed to be chaperoned?"
"It wil be," Mick says. "I'm coming, and Selina's nominated Ivy."
"Poison Ivy?"
"Harl was in Arkham and couldn't commit."
"Great. Just - great. Flash is gonna love that."
"Busy beating in Scudder's face, remember? You'll be fine. Ivy likes you."
"Ivy really doesn't, Mick. You're the only guy she actually likes. I'm collateral."
"Don't be ridiculous."
Ivy is wearing a long sleeved hoodie, which is somewhat atypical of her usual stripped-down style, but it makes sense when she gives Mick a hug, careful not to get any venom on him. "You came to Gotham and didn't see me," she scolded.
"I tried!" he protests, smiling. "I even got myself harassed by some Bats on my way to Arkham. You weren't in and Harl said you'd gone off on a safari vacation. Find anything good?"
"Oh, yes - a brand new breed of tree -"
"You'll have to tell me all about it," Mick enthuses. No one likes plants as much as Ivy - it's impossible - but she never treats him like he's an idiot for needing a repeat or a visual and now that he's gotten the heat gun, they can do reenactments of the Fantasia Firebird suite properly.
It was how they'd met, actually, years and years back. Len and Mick had been in Gotham when the Bat phenomenon was pretty young and Mick had taken a trip to the Botanical Gardens on a whim; he ended up lighting it on fire and, when Ivy - then still called Pamela - confronted him, he'd explained in his stuttering way that they had fire pines and eucalyptus in there that couldn't grow until they'd been burned, and she'd adopted him more or less on the spot.
He'd also been pretty good at converting from Pammy to Ivy when she'd transitioned from mammal to plant.
(Len was wrong, by and by, at thinking he was just collateral. He used to be, sure, and Ivy tends to slide back into that mindset, but she'd told Mick privately that Len had earned his safety from her legitimately when he'd nearly murdered the Joker on Harl's behalf.)
"Later, darling," she laughs. "We're chaperones; we should chaperone."
Len and Selina were talking over the plan, both of their eyes gleaming with greed and satisfaction. They clicked just as hard as Mick had thought they would.
Honestly, it's a great experience all around. Selina shows off some of her acrobatics, Len some of his light-fingered artistry and safe-cracking...
"Mammalian mating habits," Ivy says, rolling her eyes in amusement.
"With very specified habits," Mick agrees. "Homo sapiens thief."
"By far the most handsome sub-species," Ivy agrees. "Excellent plumage displays, if subtler than other species variants."
"We can hear you," Len calls as Selina laughs soundlessly beside him.
The department store is a gimme, really, security-wise - just enough to make it interesting, not enough that some serious pre-planning has to go into it. Once they've knocked out all the cameras, they can just stroll through the department store at leisure.
Anyone who thinks Len doesn't like shopping just needs to let him do it illegally.
They're hitting it off really well, actually. Similar interests, similar talents, and Selina might have that ex-Batfriend back in Gotham but she's an independent-minded woman who is far, far fiercer about her boundaries than Kara is. If she makes the decision, she'll stick to it.
Besides, there is always the possibility of threesomes.
Mick enjoys the evening, too, and not just because his matchmaking skills are clearly top-notch; it's been a long time since he and Ivy had time to just hang out.
Making fun of Len and Selina is just a bonus.
If only Harl were here, it'd be perfect.
It's about halfway through one of Ivy's mocking comparisons of the dating couple to a pair of endangered ring-tailed lemurs when the problem abruptly hits Mick like a bolt of lightning.
It's watching Selina execute a lift from Len - Len aware and watching her, of course. She has the same je ne sais quoi, the same poise, the same –
"Aw, crap," Mick says. "Guys! C'mere. Quick question."
The two thieves blink owlishly at him - damnit, he should've noticed it earlier - and come over.
Even Ivy is looking curious.
"Cats," Mick says, "I don't suppose you'd mind giving us a bit of your lineage, would you?"
"Lineage?" she blinks. "You mean my parents? Why?"
"Not parents," he sighs. "Thief. Any impressive thieves in your family history?"
"Well," she says dubiously, "if you go back about four generations, I'm descended on my mother's side from the great Kitt -"
"Oh, no," Len says, getting it.
"Why, what's the issue?"
Len sighs. "My mother's her great-great niece or whatever."
"We're cousins?"
"Jewish side of the family," Len confirms. "The non-Puerto Rican ones."
Selina looks stupefied. "I heard about there being a related Jewish branch, but I thought it'd disappeared after the civil wars..."
"Nah, my mom's family left Africa right before; came to the states. Jews are good at moving, sad to say."
"We're cousins," Selina repeats, her eyes brightening. "I don't - I've never had any living family, not since my mother died -"
Len softens immediately. "Well," he says, grinning crookedly. "Now you have two. Have you met my sister?"
"I've heard of her, but never got the chance -"
The date dissolves into a game of do-you-know.
"It was going so well," Mick bitches to Ivy.
"It really was," Ivy agrees, patting him on the shoulder. "They were perfect for each other. It would've come up in the deep dive anyway; better that they figure it out now. Although, genetically speaking, they're still compatible..."
Mick shakes his head. "They're too hungry for family," he says. "Both of them. Ah, well. Was a good shot."
He frowns. "Hey, think we can still have them pretend to date until Bat Prime has a heart attack or something?"
"I like the way you think," Ivy says, grinning wickedly.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"So Barry's schedule is never going to be good," Iris tells Mick over the cup of coffee he bought her. "He's perpetually late to everything, except for superheroism."
"Yeah, I figured," Mick says. "I mean, I'd been thinking about just sending Len out to taunt him on one of his Captain Cold versus the Flash things, but it's not really a date, is it?"
They both consider the idea for a long moment.
"Never mind," Mick says. "It really is."
"It is," Iris agrees. "But it doesn't really count for our purposes. We want them to talk, not - I don't even know what they're doing. Flirt through reenacting scenes from their favorite comic books?"
"Mating displays," Mick says, brain still in Ivy-mode. "Common to the subspecies homo sapians supers, regardless of whether it's the heroicia or the villaina breeds."
Iris snorts. "Yeah, and their costumes are their plumage. I can see it. So what do we do?"
Mick shrugs. "I'm not sure. We need to see how they interact when they're not, uh, plumage-ing."
"Yeah. Like, the total opposite of their usual thing. And I don't mean a superhero-supervillain team-up, that's just an even more intense version of the same."
"What about dinner?" Mick asks.
"Dinner?"
"I know, I know, incredibly tame. But how about we just get a place, make a giant pile of food, and make them have dinner and watch the Combines game? Something nice, relaxed, indoors..."
"Oh, God, don't get me started on the Combines' winning streak," Iris says, rolling her eyes. "My dad always preferred the Slashers, but Barry's practically the Combines’ biggest fan."
"Next to Len," Mick replies, also rolling his eyes. "I'd say we send them to a game, but they'd just treat that as a team-up against the evil fans from the other side."
"Indoors sounds good," Iris says. "Eddie and I have an apartment - used to be Barry and mine, yes, awkward, I know -"
"I don't think either Barry or Len know the meaning of the word."
"Fair point. How do we get enough food?"
"I'll cook some and we'll take-out the rest," Mick decides. "We can do an all-day date - lunch, movie, dinner, game."
"Sounds great."
It is great. Mick's not a shabby cook, if he does say so himself, and Barry is appropriately complimentary while also chowing down avidly on both homemade stuff and take-out.
His appetite is impressive.
Len, of course, eats like a starving child who is half-bird, half-trash compactor. He's so incredibly finicky about it that you almost don't notice how the food disappears like it's being sucked into a vacuum.
The conversation about the food is also good as an ice breaker, since they immediately start comparing favorites and suggesting the other try something.
Barry also ends up pitching the benefits of a certain brand of ice cream for nearly fifteen minutes before he gives up and runs out to get some, as well as some of the brand Len had been defending, so that they can have a taste test.
(They end up settling on a tie. There's just no winner between the Ultimate Dark Chocolate Night and the Honey Milk Cookie Dough options, but they all agree that no one is a loser, either. Especially the four of them with their bellies full of delicious ice cream.)
They pick Aliens for the movie and spend half the time pausing it to talk about Kara and the Kryptonians or the Dominators and come up with even more implausible scenarios.
"Are they being racist?" Iris asks. "Or xenophobic?"
"No," Mick says. "Given that they seem mostly in favor of meeting aliens."
"Did you really nearly marry a Kryptonian queen?"
"She was more of a warlord, but yeah. Long story."
"I want to hear more about Len being a god."
"Later, later..."
They also spend a good portion of the day constructively critiquing each other's fighting styles.
Mick and Iris spend a lot of time exchanging long-suffering looks.
"You can take the superhero out of the field..."
"But he won't stop talking about it?"
"He's my best friend," Iris says. "But at this point, I almost want him to restart that supernatural blog of his just to have some variety."
"I've been looking at that! It's - well -"
"Special?"
"He was such a dweeb."
"What do you mean, 'was'?"
"Could be worse. You ought to see Len during shark week."
"He likes shark week? Really?"
"Oh yeah."
And, of course, the piece de resistance - the Combines game.
Nothing makes people bond like abruptly transforming into shrieking maniacs howling death threats at the referee for ninety minutes or so. Apparently.
"I don't even want to know what happens next World Cup," Mick says to Iris.
"No kidding."
They both very pointedly try to ignore Len and Barry, who have finally given in to the urge to do something about the overwhelming sexual tension that lingers around them like a thick miasma. Apparently, getting into the spirit of the game helped them overcome their inhibitions - Barry had grabbed Len and kissed him when the final bell had rung and the Combines declared winners, followed by a momentary pause, staring into each other's eyes, followed by the passionate making out currently happening - which, really, was all for the best.
"Should we interrupt?" Iris asks Mick in a murmur. "They're still in the courtship stage. It’s too early to let them hop into bed together; we don’t even have a first draft contract or a letter of intention signed."
Mick reaches into his bag and pulls out two water guns.
"Mick Rory, if I weren't about to become engaged myself, I'd ask you out right here and now," Iris says, beaming.
Len and Barry make sounds not unlike yowling cats when they get hit with water.
"Down, boys," Iris says, grinning. "Save some for date two."
"Will there be a date two?" Barry asks hopefully, still flushed red with exertion and excitement.
"Definitely," Len says before Mick can answer. "Even if I have to break into a bank to get your attention, Scarlet."
"Wouldn't be the first time you've done that," Barry shoots back, regaining his cockiness.
"And you just happen to wander by Saints and Sinners on a regular basis, huh?"
"I'm just keeping a close eye on my nemesis," Barry says in a way that might be convincing if he wasn't leaning in, eyes locked on Len's, and his voice going a little breathy. "Never know what trouble you might be getting into."
Len's leaning forward, too. "Keep your friends close and enemies closer, huh? We might make a proper villain out of you one day..."
"Never."
Iris squirts them with the water gun again. "Guys?" she says when they look at her, blinking the water out of their eyes. "Superhero-supervillain roleplay is a third date thing, at earliest."
They both pout.
Mick rolls his eyes and takes Len home.
"So," Len says when they get home. He's been practically vibrating in his seat. "What's your verdict?"
Mick doesn't answer, just heads inside.
"Mick?" Len calls, starting to frown. "Not good? Do we need to go back to the pool? I thought the dates went well..."
Mick goes to the phone.
"Mick?"
"Heya, Spears?" Mick says into the handle. "I think you can focus the deep dive on Barry Allen exclusively. We'll be opening negotiations next week."
Len beams.
---------------------------------------------------------------
Of course, that doesn't mean it's over.
Not by a long shot.
Mick and Iris supervise two more dates to be sure - Iris takes to menacing them with a spray bottle - but they both agree that prospects look pretty damn good.
Mick may have destroyed the multiverse by introducing Ivy and Kara, as well as Selina and Alex, but oh, well.
(Alex keeps shutting her eyes and murmuring "I have a girlfriend - I have a girlfriend" passionately, while Selina purrs, "Do you now? I'd love to meet her" at her.)
"I'm ready when you are," Iris tells him at the conclusion of date three (superhero-supervillain team-up against an invasion of subterranean mole-men; Mick's not asking).
"Yeah," he says. "Let's do this thing."
They meet at Jitters as neutral ground.
"We need a booth all day," Iris says apologetically. "But we'll order lots of coffee!"
"It's a marriage negotiation," Mick tells them.
Their expressions brighten immediately. "Take all the time you need. Back corner's all yours - we won't seat anyone near you guys."
Mick and Iris settle in, each armed with a giant pile of paper.
"So," she says.
"So," he agrees.
"You want to start with traditional stuff - living situation, kids, etc. - or esoteric?"
"Normally I'd say traditional," Mick says. "But I figure we ought to get the elephant out of the way, yeah?"
"Agreed. So: super-heroics are non-negotiable."
"Supervillainy is, too, and I'm counting regular old stealing in that. That going to be a moral no-go zone?"
"Nah, Barry knows who he's dealing with. He'll want some ability to veto some of the things Len does, though, if it's unconscionable."
Mick nods. He'd figured as much. "I'm willing to grant a limited number of vetoes for acts of supervillainy or theft in exchange for an equal number of vetoes for acts of heroic martyrdom."
"Done," Iris says. "I would pay money for a few of those myself."
Mick laughs. "I wouldn't say no stopping some of Len's dumber ideas either."
"No kidding. Okay. So. We want to formalize the agreement of no killing."
"No unreasonable killing."
"I don't know -"
"Lewis. Snart."
"Okay, okay. No unreasonable killing."
"On both sides. Len hates it when people bring the heat."
"Barry doesn't kill people!"
Mick stares at her.
"...on purpose!"
More staring.
"...okay, I'll put in a provision."
"No illegal prisons, either," Mick says.
Iris doesn't even argue that one.
"We're gonna need to have a yearly - maybe quarterly? - minimum superhero-supervillain fights," Mick says. "Len's pretty possessive; he'll get pissy if Barry decides to focus exclusively on some other threat."
"Yeah, no, I agree. Barry got really sulky when Len went off with the Legends. He'll want to provide for that. Of course, he'll also want a guaranteed number of team-up requests, too, ones that override whatever else is going on..."
"Agreed. But going both ways - if Len needs Barry for a heist or a prison break, he can call on him and get reliable assistance."
Iris hums. "Yeah, makes sense. Maybe we should make the team-up override thing subject to mediation? If there's some request for assistance and they're having difficulty agreeing, they appeal to a neutral third party."
"Sounds reasonable. Better make the third party someone of flexible morality, though, so neither of them feel cheated."
"Makes sense. We can serve in that role to start, and I'll leave a blank for the mediator that we can fill it in later."
"Okay, good. Anything else on the superhero-villain spectrum?"
"Hmmm - oh, I know. A list of no-go team-ups. Heroes Len doesn't want Barry associating with, villains Barry doesn't want Len dealing with."
"Who're you thinking?"
"Eobard Thawne."
"Fair. Put it in. But we'll need an exception for duress - mind-control, brainwashing, it's a past version, etc."
Iris nods, both of them adding it to their notes.
"Oh, yeah," Mick adds. "Same vein - timeline adjustments to be discussed in advance for potential consequences. Applicable to both of them."
"Oh my god, agreed! So very much agreed!"
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"I don't suppose you've signed a letter of intent yet," Len asks when Mick gets home after the third day of negotiations. Technically it's only a few hours a day, since Iris can't take full days off of her job for it, since Mick isn't the most facile writer or reader, it always takes him the rest of the day to look over the clauses he's agreed to and their wording to make sure he hasn't agreed to anything dumb.
They haven't had to resort to a mediator yet, luckily; they've been able to resolve all the difficulties. As negotiations go, it's been going very smoothly.
Mick still gives Len an incredulous look.
"I know, I know, it's early days yet," Len says. "I just..."
"Want to get laid?" Mick suggests.
"Want to lock it down," Len says. He shrugs. "He's a superhero in his late twenties; I'm well above his age -"
"You're in excellent health, you're goddamn gorgeous, and you're brilliant, plus you have child rearing experience from raising Lisa," Mick says flatly. "You've got solid assets, including multiple real estate holdings, and no criminal record -"
"Because I blackmailed him into deleting 'em."
"Either way, it's gone," Mick says. "Sorry, buddy. You're a catch. He, on the other hand, is a compulsive liar with boundary issues and a total inability to be punctual to anything, difficulty making friends, and is very nearly a big as nerd as you."
"He's a good person."
"Yeah," Mick says. "With a martyr complex." He pins Len with a glare.
"And I don't have that because I've worked out any martyrdom out of my system," Len recites. "I promise, Mick. No more Oculus."
"Good."
"You sound like a tough negotiator," Len says. "Do try not to be too tough. I do want to get married eventually."
"You think I'm tough, you haven't spent a few hours going head to head with Iris West."
"That'll be fun," Len says with a faint smirk. "Having her as a sister-in-law."
"Sure," Mick says. "Just like having Joe West as a father-in-law."
The smirk disappears.
Point, Mick.
"Do you have a preference in apartments?" Mick asks, dumping his bag on the desk. "We were discussing living quarters today - turns out Barry gave the one he bought for himself and Iris to her and Eddie when Eddie came back, so he's been crashing with Cisco."
"I have plenty of places," Len says. "He can move in any time."
"He can move in after you get married, you mean. But seriously, any preference?"
Len thinks. "Maybe the one on Willow?" he suggests. "That's a real house, not just an apartment - office, living room, the garage we've been using as a workstation, four bedrooms. That’s a good number, I think: one for us, one for you, one for guests, one for kids, at least until we need to expand. Plus it has that kitchen you like."
"It does have a good kitchen," Mick acknowledges. "I'll suggest it."
"That way you can cook for us," Len says happily.
"Of course," Mick snorts. That had been on today's discussion list - Iris had been very concerned when Mick had noted Len's lack of cooking skills. Barry apparently couldn't cook either.
"They're going to live on take-out," Iris had spent a few minutes moaning before Mick had assuaged her worries by explaining that he would do the cooking. It’s not like he hasn’t always been doing it for Len; yes, increasing the amounts for Barry would be a challenge, but Mick likes challenges.
Besides, it’s a good way to earn his keep.
"Speaking of food, what do you want?" Mick asks, thinking about what was in the fridge. "Also, when is next date night?"
"We-ell..."
"Lenny."
"I invited him to dinner. Here! Just here."
Mick rolls his eyes and gets up to open the door, because he knows how Len operates. He yanks it open just as Barry, Iris beside him, lifts his hand to knock.
"Long time no see," Mick says dryly to Iris. "Don't your boyfriend miss you?"
"I wish," she sighs. "He's back on the force and he got picked to head a major investigation. He barely comes home to sleep - trying to prove he's still got it. You know how it is."
Mick nods and steps aside to let them in.
"We're doing take out," he announces. "I refuse to cook after I negotiated all day."
"What, don't want to show off your domestic skills?" Iris teases.
"I'm demonstrating the domestic skill of knowing when to yield," Mick shoots back.
"No need," Len says. "I've already ordered take out. In fact, it should -"
The doorbell rings.
"Your sense of timing is awesome," Barry says.
They're all lounging by the couch with boxes of high-quality Chinese on their laps when Iris says, "Were you serious about living with and cooking for Len and Barry once they're married?"
"Of course he is," Len replies blankly, sounding puzzled. "We've lived together off and on for - you know what, I'm going to just not do the math."
"Please don't," Mick agrees. "And yeah. Someone has to do the cooking, and it sure ain't Len."
Iris hums. "Not the most conventional approach nowadays," she says. "Not unheard of, of course. Barry?"
Barry shrugs. "They've lived together forever. Why break up something that works?"
Iris blinks for a minute, then shrugs. "Your marriage, your call."
Barry blinks at her. "If he doesn't get a room, he'll just crash on the couch most nights," he points out, not incorrectly. "I'm much more likely to trip over him that way. Besides, I'm sure we can find a place big enough."
"Len has several," Mick says dryly. "We always make sure they have a guest room for Lisa to crash in, too."
"Sure, I guess," Iris says, laughing a little. "Wouldn't be my style - no offense, Barry, I'm a if-you-live-in-my-house-you'd-better-be-in-my-bed sorta girl - but if you're all good with it, why not?"
Len, however, was stuck on other matters. "'Your marriage, your call?'" he parrots, indignant. "Do you actually get asked to make decisions like that?"
"You don't?"
"No! El Dictator over there just tells me what's been decided and makes me object if I don't like 'em!"
"The question is," Mick drawls, "have you ever objected?"
Len wrinkles his nose. "Well, no," he says. "You know me really well. But it's the principle of the thing!"
Iris and Barry are laughing.
"Screw principle," Mick says cheerfully. "You're an impulsive unmarried sort, tradition says I'm supposed to decide for you."
"Definitely impulsive," Barry says, grinning. "No lie there."
Len pretends to sulk, but can't keep it up when Barry reaches over and idly lays a hand on Len's forearm.
Mick can tell from the set of Len's shoulders that he doesn't mind the contact, and from his face that he's surprised that he doesn't.
Mick grins. This is going to be a good marriage. He can feel it.
------------------------------------------------------------------
"Trips," Iris announces.
"Trips?" Mick asks, lifting his head from where he'd been resting it against the surface of the table. Negotiations suck.
To be more specific, funeral clauses suck. Mick gets a little touchy about discussions of Len's death, okay? He's had to go through that once.
On the bright side, he'd negotiated that the Flash team would engage in an extensive search process, up to and including time travel, to ensure that there was no way to rescue Len from whatever stupid stunt got his ass kicked this time before the funeral clause could go into effect.
Still depressing.
"Yeah, trips," Iris says. She looks a bit queasy, too; talking about Barry's death was equally hard for her - she'd seen him live through his mother's murder (age 11), get hit by a bus (14), fall off a cliff (17), a bolt of lightning (24), a black hole (25), Zoom breaking his back (25), being strapped to an accelerator and trapped in the Speed Force (26), giving himself up to the Speed Force (27)...suffice to say, she was acquainted with Mick's trauma. Very acquainted. "We need something nice to discuss."
"Okay. Trips. You mean vacations?"
"Barry works too hard and never takes time off. We should fix that."
"We should. At least two vacations each year, minimum ten days, plus occasional weekend trips."
"That sounds great. Mandate use of the superhero network to cover Central so they're not tempted to come back?"
"Not just superheroes," Mick disagrees. "Len knows some supervillains that we could trust to keep an eye on the city till they come back."
"Hmm. How about we make that a joint efforts clause? That way they both have to work to make sure they're not going to break their vacation."
"They will anyway."
"Well, yes," Iris agrees. "But at least they'll try not to."
Mick nods and they add it in. “What about holidays?” he asks. “Len’s Jewish, Barry’s Christian, and we can’t leave out the Fourth of July.”
“On the bright side, we can split pretty evenly that way,” Iris says, tapping her pencil against her lips. “Christian holidays at Dad’s house, Jewish holidays with you guys – isn’t one of those holidays involve lighting something on fire?”
“Many of them,” Mick says happily.
“And American holidays we can split between the two. Even I’ve heard of your Fourth of July bashes, so you get that – how do you feel about Thanksgiving?”
“Fairly strongly, but we can bring our traditional foods to your house. Don’t care where it’s at.”
“Done, excellent. Memorial Day and stuff?”
“See trips.”
Iris laughs.
"Oh, and speaking of trips, should we decide on where they go?" Mick asks. "Don't want them to cheat."
"At least 200 miles from Central?"
Mick snorts. "Your boy can run that in an hour or two."
Iris sighs. "Thoughts?"
"400 miles and no superhero team-ups as vacations; or they can get a hotel here and not leave."
Iris laughs, jotting it down. "Speaking of which - honeymoon?"
"An island," Mick says firmly.
"Why an island?"
"Harder to leave."
"Barry can run over water."
"For long distances?"
Iris pauses. "You make a good point," she concedes after a moment. "An island. Which one?"
There's a moment's pause.
"Not Lian-Yu," they both chorus, then dissolve into guffaws.
"After all, we do want them back eventually," Iris says, wiping her eyes.
"How about Atlantis?" Mick asks.
She gives him a look. "That's not a place, Mick."
"Heard it is in Earth-2."
"They can have their honeymoon on Earth-1, Mick. Otherwise they will have a dire world-ending emergency that they need to avert happening."
"Hn. I take your point. Okay."
"The Caribbean?"
Mick shakes his head. "We have a private island there," he says. "It's not really neutral ground."
"Barry's making a much better match than I am," Iris murmurs. "Private island - I should've looked closer at your real estate holdings."
"Probably," Mick agrees with a smirk. "The Phillipines?"
"Barry would try to get involved with politics. Hawaii?"
"Too hot for Len. Iceland?"
"Maybe. Might be too close by for Barry to resist running to Europe."
"Wait - New Zealand?" Mick gestures at the 'mutual interests' section of the contract, in which 'science fiction/fantasy books/movies/etc.' is featured heavily. "Lord of the Rings?"
Iris sniggers. "I'll bring it up as a possibility. Oh, speaking of too hot, we should probably go ahead and make a clause for how to deal with the inevitable fight over the thermostat..."
"And the accompanying puns."
"From both of them!"
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Okay, so we've covered living situations (Len's house), chore division (you cook, Barry cleans, Len does laundry), transportation division (you drive since neither Barry nor Len can drive and in return Barry is willing to be used as a bus service for a limited number of times per week), income management (Len because he's apparently an accountant in his spare time, who would've thought), pets (Barry’s turtle in the main area, Len’s stray cats out back), expected job prospects (continuing where they left off) -" Iris lists off.
"Speaking of, you applied to the CCPD for the morality waiver yet?" Mick asks.
"It's not a morality waiver," Iris scolds mildly. "It's a certification that his marriage to a person of interest and possible felon - but for a very well-timed deletion of his criminal record - won't affect Barry's CSI work."
"And?"
"And yes, we've applied. Should we discuss kids?"
"I think they're all but settled on two, with the possibility for three, to be raised mixed Jewish-Christian."
"Yeah. Adoption or surrogacy can be left to their determination."
"It won't happen in the first two years anyway," Mick agrees. "They need to stabilize their marriage before starting in on kids. Think we can get Kara to have the kids?"
"You just want toddlers with heat ray vision."
"Hell yeah. And freeze breath and superspeed, don't forget."
"...I'll put her on the list of potential options. Barry'd like a kid that inherited his speed and Len's eyes."
"Plus Len's bone structure," Mick says. "He's pretty."
Iris snorts. "You think everyone is pretty."
"You disagreeing?"
"About Len? Definitely not. Len's the prettiest Flash supervillain."
"His competition is a gorilla," Mick points out.
"Some people are into that," Iris replies with a straight face.
They both dissolve into sniggers.
"But seriously," Iris says, wiping her eyes. "What next? Null clauses? Standard ones like abuse, of course, whether verbal, economic, sexual or physical -"
"Unreasonable infidelity."
"Unreasonable?"
"Brainwashing, pheromones, past self, seducing someone for a job, seducing someone for the greater good -"
"Right. Unreasonable infidelity it is. Is that a dissolution clause?"
"Maybe just a mandatory marriage counseling one. And consented-to acts outside the marriage doesn't count, of course."
"Naturally. Anything else?"
"Let's go over the standard set and see if we find anything to add. Oh, speaking of sexual, we should probably get that one out of the way."
Iris makes a face, but she pulls out a new folder. "I got Barry to fill out The 13b."
Mick chokes down a laugh. Iris is referring to the infamous 'sexual practices' form - notorious among middle-schoolers going into their first set of real home-ec classes - with the bewildered awe of someone who has actually had to read the notoriously over-inclusive form.
It had initially started out very conservative, of course, primarily concerned with ensuring that proper young ladies weren't required to engage in any unseemly acts by their new husbands, particularly after the growth of freely available pornography.
Then there had been a landmark court case brought jointly by a couple who had been obligated by their over-protective guardians to agree to virtually no relations at all and an asexual couple which had been given what they considered to be excessively high sexual interaction minimums by their own well-meaning guardians; that case had resulted in the right of all individuals, including minors, to fill out the form themselves and for more options to be added in, rendering it more flexible.
And then the next case had been brought by a couple who practiced BDSM who claimed that their marriage process was negatively impacted and stigmatized by being forced to negotiate alternative sexual agreements outside of the form...
In the end, Form 13(b) had ballooned from a discrete three-page form to a mammoth thirty-page questionnaire which provided the vast majority of middle-school aged kids with their first real introduction to alternative sexuality options beyond what they had been taught in sex ed.
"Len filled one out too," Mick says. "Though I revised it to account for his sarcasm and occasional denial."
Iris grins. "Yeah, me too. Barry's too embarrassed to put some things to paper, which is just ridiculous. This is a marriage contract! If you don't put down the truth, you'll just end up having two years of sex you don't like."
Mick solemnly offers up his fist for a fist-bump, which Iris gleefully returns. "This is gonna be fun."
"Hell yes. Now, to start - are you aware that Barry can vibrate on cue?"
"I'd guessed," Mick says, smirking.
Iris smirks back. "So I was figuring we would put in a clause about keeping each other satisfied and leave the exactly frequency to their discretion -"
“Oh, I like that. What about acceptable nicknames?”
“In bed?”
“In public, in private, in bed...”
“I like the way you think. Oh! Costumes!”
“What about them? Obviously they’re going to be permitted to wear ‘em to bed.”
“Obviously. But, like, can they wear each other’s or would that be too confusing?” Iris waves her pencil around. “Would they want to?”
“You telling me that Barry Allen has never wanted to play the villain?” Mick asks skeptically.
Iris sniggers. “See the 13(b) for the answer to that,” she replies. “But wouldn’t he be more of a speedster villain to Len’s Captain Cold good-guy?”
“You know what,” Mick says. “We should include a provision that they need to order their own sex toys, and that includes specialty costumes from Cisco.”
“Poor Cisco.”
“He should’ve thought of that before becoming the super-tech distributor of Central City. What about carrying?”
“Carry provisions? I don’t think they’re bringing anything into the marriage that wouldn’t already be covered…”
“No, no, literal carrying. If Barry grabs Len for transport, bridal style is right out unless Barry’s got a real good life-saving reason for it. And if Len ever needs to carry Barry…”
“Yeah, Barry hates ‘sack of potatoes’; he’s more of a piggy-back man.” Iris pauses, then buries her face in her hands. “You know what, let’s go back to the sex talk, that’s somehow less embarrassing than this…”
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Of course, not everything is sunshine and roses and really bad sex jokes.
When Iris doesn't show for that day's negotiating session - and it's warranties and wedding day, which she's been looking forward to - Mick assumes the worst and heads over her way, heat gun in tow.
He arrives at the West household only to hear a screaming fight going on inside.
One of the voices is Iris, at least; that's good. Mick was going to assume 'kidnapped' otherwise.
Still, yelling at Iris.
That's just rude.
He jimmies the lock - Len's not the only one who knows how - and lets himself inside.
"- I cannot believe you!" Joe West is shouting. "You can't be arranging a marriage for Barry, you're not even married yourself -"
"And who's fault is that?!" Iris shoots back.
"Married status hasn't been a requirement for a best man since 1972 -" Barry starts.
"Not now, Barry! And don't think you're off the hook - what the hell were you thinking?"
Mick wonders for a moment if he ought not to show himself. If West's objection is that Barry's getting married without permission at all...
"And really, Leonard Snart of all people?!"
Nope. He's upset about that too.
"I cannot believe you two would do something this stupid. You have no idea what that man is capable of -"
"Uh, I kinda do?" Barry interrupts. "I have fought him before."
Not helping, Barry.
"Not helping, Barry," Iris hisses.
Barry crosses his arms stubbornly. "He's a good man," he says.
"He's a thief, a liar, and a murderer!"
"There's good in him, Joe. He doesn't kill any more, he has a code now -"
"I don't care! You don't understand the dangers you're putting yourself in for, with this monster -"
Hey! Mick is totally the monster of their little duo.
"- who's trying to come in and take advantage of you, of both of you, trying to use your reputation as a hero -"
"He's marrying Barry Allen," Barry points out. "Not the Flash."
"Then as part of the CCPD! I bet he's weaseling in words to make you help him in his heists -"
"It's not like that," Iris says.
"It's exactly like that, Iris. You don't have the experience to negotiate a contract -"
"Better than not negotiating it at all," Iris says. "I should've let Barry be my best man for Eddie instead of agreeing to let you do it; maybe I’d be married by now."
"I'm just being cautious -"
"Oh, cautious, sure. You're so cautious, I'll die of old age first!"
"We're not talking about your relationship right now, Iris," Joe says sternly.
"We never are," she mutters.
"We are focusing on making sure Barry doesn't sign away his life to a criminal intent on abusing him!"
Joe had better not be implying –
"Len wouldn't do anything like that!" Barry protests.
"You didn't know his father, not more than for a few minutes," Joe says darkly. "Snart probably picked up every last trick in the -"
"Now that just ain't nice," Mick says, because marriage or no marriage, he doesn't let anyone talk about Len like that.
Joe starts when he sees Mick and has the shame to look a little guilty - clearly he hadn't intended for his little aspersions and innuendos to get back to Len - but he sets his face in hard lines. "What are you doing in my house?!"
"I'm here to pick up Iris," Mick says.
Joe snorts. "What, you? Don't tell me Snart got a thug like you to do his marriage negotiations. He'd be better off with a stranger off the street!"
"Nah," Mick says before Barry, whose face is turning red with affront, or Iris, who looks like she's going to throw something, can say anything. "He's got a sister. I'm here to propose a triad marriage to Iris."
Joe's jaw drops.
Barry's eyebrows go up.
Iris starts grinning like a maniac.
"I've been sitting in on Iris' negotiation sessions," Mick says solemnly, lying like a rug without uttering any untruth but the big one. Cops can smell ‘em if they’re small. "She's very impressive and we grew close. I figure, since she ain't actually contracted yet, it ain't too late to make my suit."
"She's going to be engaged to Eddie!" Joe shouts.
"Thus triad marriage."
"Iris?"
"Sorry, Dad," Iris says insincerely. "I meant to tell you, but I just couldn't find a way."
"Yeah, right," Joe snorts.
"Ask Eddie," Mick suggests, noticing how Barry's hands have flashed for his own phone. "He'll confirm it."
"You know what, I will." Joe grabs the phone, dials. "Eddie - are you considering triad marriage with Mick Rory?"
"Uh," Eddie says, his voice tinny over the line. "Iris and I were trying to think of a way to bring it up..."
Eddie Thawne is clearly a good man who is very familiar with his beloved's sense of humor.
Barry flashes Mick and Iris to safety before Mt. Joe explodes for real.
As soon as they get out to the park, Iris bursts out laughing. "That was wonderful," she crows. "Oh, I hate to do it to him, but sometimes he really deserves it -"
"He didn't mean what he said about Len," Barry assures Mick anxiously. "He was just angry."
"It's fine," Mick says. "Unless you're having second thoughts?"
Barry's chin goes up. Stubborn, endlessly stubborn - one of his better traits, in Mick's mind. It meant he had a chance of keeping up with Len. "Oh, I'm definitely still in."
"Good," Mick says, and fishes out a piece of paper from his bag. "Then I think we oughta sign this."
Iris takes it. "A letter of intent? Really? Are we there yet?"
"I think we're there," Mick agrees. "We've been able to resolve or compromise most of the differences, and the remaining stuff is mostly frills and technical. Ain't the reason I'm pulling it out early."
"Oh?"
"Barry's of age," Mick says. "But Lenny's a felon - well, alleged former felon - and there are plenty of things a cop can do to make trouble for him if he's too angry to think about the trouble he's making for Barry, too. Open an investigation, charge him with abetting -"
Barry makes a face. "As a CSI, I can't be courting someone currently under investigation."
"But you can if the letter of intent is already on file," Iris says, nodding with understanding. "Barry - I've shown you my drafts. We've gotten through a lot, but not everything is done, so if you're not comfortable signing -"
"You do get to get laid if you do sign," Mick points out.
The paper is signed in the time it takes Iris to slap the back of Mick's head.
"Barry!"
"What? You saw Len's 13b! I want me some of that!"
Mick starts laughing. After a few seconds, the other two start in as well.
"I'm gonna call Len," Mick decides. "Then you'll see a streak of blue, I'd bet."
"Nah, he knows I'll come to him," Barry replies cheerfully.
"Barry Allen!" Iris exclaims, pretending to be shocked. "Have you been discussing it with your intended, you scandalous minx?"
Barry shivers blissfully. "Oh yeah. At length. His voice is...uh...something else. And that imagination…"
Iris sniggers again. "Well, now I'm really incentivized to finish negotiations," she says. "I can't wait to stop being your disapproving negotiator and go back to being your approving and interested best friend/confidante."
"I'll tell you everything," Barry promises.
"Lenny?" Mick says into the phone.
Len grumbles at him. He was in the middle of planning something, or something like that.
"Just giving you a heads up about a streak of light heading your way," Mick drawls. "Since we signed the letter of intent and all."
He can hear Len drop his pencil.
Mick grins evilly.
"Doesn't Len need to - oh, he's already signed," Iris observes. "Signed and notarized."
"Mardon's a notary," Mick tells her. "Yeah, yeah, I'm as surprised as you are."
"Why are you still talking?" Len demands. "Tell Barry to get his ass in high gear already!"
Mick conveys the message, but he's talking to empty air.
"We should probably finish the contract," Iris says.
"No issues with your dad?"
"He'll come around by the wedding."
-----------------------------------------------------------
He does.
The ceremony is lovely - Jewish, per Len's request, but with some traditional frills for Barry.
Mardon does a stellar job at keeping the weather good, the CCPD is on their best non-arresting behavior, and even though most of the audience thinks that the grooms have lost it, no one objects at any point.
(The large sign confirming the list of enchantments, mind-control, robotic clones, etc. that both grooms had been tested for helps, Mick thinks.)
The food is, even by Mick's standard, magnificent. The cake is -
Well, it may or may not be an eldritch horror of some variety, Constantine hadn't been willing to confirm one way or the other, but it's large and delicious.
The Waverider hovers above the venue and showers the happy couple with hypoallergenic flower petals in red and blue. This conveniently eliminates the need for flower girls or a wedding party, thereby eliminating a series of duels to the death that seemed likely to break out.
Iris and Mick do have the traditional false-duel between best men, though. Fun!
Iris also catches the bouquet that Len insists on tossing and grins wickedly at her fiancé and Mick, who are sitting together with Felicity and Oliver.
There's been a bit of a competition between the two of them as to which triad Mick would work better in. Mick's not objecting in the slightest.
They’re all very pretty.
Though, in fairness, he does think everyone’s pretty.
Kara shows up with a triad of her own, pleased as punch, and seems to be getting along ridiculously well with the delegation from Krypton Len had demanded (he is a god there) show up. Mick suspects they may be her parents.
All in all, it's a pretty auspicious start to a marriage.
Okay, yes, the mole-men attack again, but honestly, Mick was expecting something like that.
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