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potteresque-ire · 3 years

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Commentary ~ Little Red Little Green Episode 18, “Fruits & Found Family”

Link to original post in Chinese, posted 2021/05/23. Link to official English translation.

(Disclaimer / Notes + Commentary under the cut!) (TW: possible eating disorder)

Disclaimer / Notes:

While the posts by Little Red Little Green (LRLG) are among my most favourite candies, I’d like to remind everyone that they are fake rumours, and should be read and enjoyed as such. ie, all CPN below!

The English translation linked above is the only one authorised by the Fake Rumour House; therefore, please treat all content below as a very casual, very *unofficial* convo between fellow turtle friends! ❤️💛💚

With Chinese being a highly region-specific language, my reactions to it is necessarily filtered through my background, which is, admittedly, somewhat removed from Gg’s, Dd’s and LRLG’s. However, it is not uncommon for even c-turtles (and several times, LRLG themselves) to be lost with what they read / heard due to regional differences ~ which reflects the reality of communicating in the Sinosphere. In fact, the regionality of the dialects used by different “characters” in LRLG’s dialogues is among the most critical elements that make these posts so authentic-sounding, and so difficult to replicate. A fun activity of following LRLG is to watch c-turtles patch their regional knowledge together, from local slangs to food choices, to make sense of what’s going on.

Okay, with that all said *phew* ... onto the commentary! “p. X” refers to the panel number in the official English translation (there are 7 total in the Twitter post).

p1. “Fairy”

Likely referring to the similarity between Gg’s current role for 玉骨遥 (The Longest Promise) and LWJ. Dd was praising Gg for being “fairy-like”; Chinese “fairies” (仙) have a certain style especially in visual media, similar to ... LWJ’s ~ otherworldly, white robes that billow in the wind, peaceful to the point of distant, scholarly, delicate. In between the lines, Gg likely said he was simply playing LWJ (hence, the ”act another me” in the translation), which Dd protested... and said Gg was simply playing himself. Whether that means DD IS NOT LWJ!!!!! 😡😡😡 or something else, we’ll know what we get to watch the show!

p1-p2. “Heat”

Yes about the Chang’e 嫦娥 reference!! Despite Houyi 后羿 shooting down 9/10 suns and saving the day, his wife is, indeed, more famous (and therefore the star, the more powerful one), because she’s frequently featured in Mid-Autumn festival art, along with her pet rabbit 玉兔 (”Jade Rabbit”),:

(Chang’e with her bunny, traditional Chinese painting. Source.)

Below is Gg’s rendition of Chang’e / Jade Bunny pair ~ Chang’e being the superman in the drawing while Jade Bunny is crouching on the planet!!

Guess of the missing convo from Gg’s side: Gg had wanted to bring something to Hengdian (where the filming of The Longest Promise was taking place) to cool himself down, and Dd had said it wasn’t necessarily. Hence Dd’s “My bad my bad” and the promise to send that something to Gg.

The loveliest line in this segment for me—and for many c-turtles— is the one about white hair. Turning grey a common, but very old-fashioned way of expressing worry and poor Dd, who hasn’t even turned 24, is claiming he was turning white because he got so worried every time Gg complained about the heat (Aww).

Turning grey with worry isn’t limited to romantic situations — it may happen to doting parents with wayward children, for example, or to ancient patriots over their crumbling kingdom. However, it’s also one of the more (very!) dramatic ways to communicate tragic love in Chinese fiction before Western influence allows “love”, as a term / word / character, to be used explicitly in writing romance.

Here’s a little example, a little diversion that may be of interest. Those who are familiar with the Wuxia classic Return of the Condor Heroes 神雕俠侶 by Jin Yong 金庸, whether it’s the book or its numerous visual adaptations, may remember how the hero, Yang Guo 楊過, went white at his temples overnight after his Shifu and lover, Xiao Long Nv (小龍女), didn’t show up at the cliff at the end of his 16-year wait for her.

Set photo from a TV adaption of Return of the Condor Heroes, 1995. Turtles may find the actress playing the perenially white-wearing, calm-to-the point-of-aloof Xiao Long Nv, Carmen Li 李若彤, familiar ~ she also played Lan Yi in The Untamed.

The 16-year wait, the invitation to Carmen to play Lan Zhan’s ancestor (when the two shared similarities in aesthetics and personality), were two of the three references from Return of the Condor Heroes I picked up from The Untamed (the last one was more specific—WWX mentioned Yang Guo’s master 獨孤求敗). This tribute is unconfirmed, but MXTX did say before that Jin Yong’s works were her inspiration. I also read a (small) discussion on whether LWJ’s hair carried a few pieces of white in the final episode, or if the lighter strands in it were a trick of the sunlight. (Here’s a screenshot of the approximate place to look!!)

While I lean towards the latter (the sunlight), turning white with worry, with love, is a tradition in Chinese storytelling. Here’s a little something I’ve noticed too, on this note ~ both in the actual interviews and in these fake rumours, Dd’s word choices, the way he conveys emotions are sometimes surprisingly traditional. It can be because of his background (which would require a study of how Luo Yang people and Koreans talk); it can be because the traditional way of talking allows for fewer words to be said, fewer things to have to be explicitly explained (example: LWJ), but the effect is that Dd has supplied the most romantic lines in LRLG’s posts because of that ~ romantic because it harks back to the rhythm, the themes of old poetry, of ancient stories that, as were true everywhere in the world, were about love.

Okay, back to the rumour (and hoping Dd won’t look like Bad Wig Yang Guo in a few more summers!) ....

The line after the one about white hair ... the way I understand the original Chinese sentence is “Heat is The Reason”: ie, anything Dd wants Gg to do and Gg disagrees, Gg would use heat as The Reason (R) to not do it. This anything may be eating, for example, which also has a strong possibility as conventional Chinese wisdom says that heat causes people to lose appetite. Dd’s worry would therefore be: Gg refusing to eat because he claims it’s too hot to do so.

“Corny joke” ~ the Chinese for this is, literally, “cold 冷 joke 笑話”, which becomes a pun as the gzry (team members)’s joke was about the (cold) winter and black hair. So... Dd threw a corny joke to combat a corny joke :D .

p3. “Apple”

The first half I also had to rely on c-turtles to help me interpret what it meant! Regional dialects aside, LRLG has captured dls’s very quick wit, the way his ideas freely hop from one concept to the next and this hopping carries traditional + popular cultural references that I know only a fraction of, not being a local after all.

I’ve read an additional interpretation of this segment: “big fruit” 大果兒 (as in dls: “Those are all big fruits, all big fruits”) is a Northern Chinese, traditional slang for women—dls might have connected that with the previous line in the convo about being Guowang, as explained in the translation, and “big and juicy” + “touch to feel” being suggestive phrases. Then, given the rare usage of the big fruit = women slang, dls expressed surprise that Dd understood what he meant, went on to say he expected Gg to know it (implying Gg could’ve taught Dd the meaning) ...

Which led to the entertaining part of this segment. Dd was like “You guys (= Gg + dls) talked?” Dls appeared to have thought of the scenario customarily inviting this question (scenario: someone on the verge of catching their spouse cheating) and began playacting that scenario, started to stammer ... as if he had just been got caught trying to chat up someone’s spouse ~ ”I-I-I....how to say it ...”. Dd caught on dls’s playacting and went along, continued with the “accusation”: “You’re stammering”. Dls then noted that Dd’s accusation was scary and Dd smiled, ending the playact ~ so, ah, readers, never mess with Dd’s spouse!! Dd gets scary!!

(BTW: ”nijia na kouzi” 你家那口子 was explained in the translation for a reason ~ It’s a warm, friendly term for a dear friend’s spouse. 😊)

p4. Lychees

Lychees. Has everyone tried them? It’s important not to over-eat them though...

In which the “Feeding Gg” saga continues! This segment is one of those that are wonderful for fic writers who wish to capture Gg and Dd in words. Gg, like many brought up in traditional families, has trouble saying “no” outright, which is often considered rude. As such, he resorted to delay tactics, something he had also done with the fried noodles in The Makeup Room BTS.

In the BTS, his delay tactics had been to argue that Dd hadn’t eaten his box of noodles and therefore, he couldn’t start (~2:35 mark)—as proper manners indeed dictated. In this dialogue, his delay tactics was to say he’d eat the lychees later, that the lychees would make him too full for the proper meal (rice).

A cute thing about this convo is that rather than pouting and grumbling his only being LWJ’s replacement (as he had hilariously done in the BTS), Dd had, apparently over the last three years, become an expert on countering such delay tactics. He peeled the lychees, which not only removed a major obstacle for eating, but also set a timer as peeled lychees get dry quickly (and Gg, despite being a picky eater, didn’t seem to like to waste food). He said the fruit could make appetiser. He got the help of their team members, who assured Gg that two lychees would be all right.

Gg’s response to the assurance... takes a little time to explain.

The original Chinese line for “Great, great, you’re so awesome” was 絕了絕了你們絕了。 “絕了”, a popular phrase used by Chinese netizens, was repeated three times.

絕, literally, means the extreme, the absolute, the end. 絕了 means pretty much the same ~ a thing that is 絕了 is standing en pointe at the edge of the cliff that is The Absolute End of a spectrum. It is the Ultimate. It can't be surpassed. It’s unbeatable.

絕了 is usually used in a positive sense, as in the English translation, with the positive being implied. If I say the LWJ photo above is 絕了, for example, I don’t need to specify that the extreme in 絕 stands on the good end. It’s understood given the audience of this post are mostly turtles (HELLO *waves*). We’re all heart-eyes here. We agree, without saying, that this photo is The Top, The Pinnacle; it can’t be better. 絕了 is higher praise than Excellent; it’s so good that there are no adjectives for it. Its own presence defines How Good It Is.

But 絕了 doesn’t have to be positive. If my audience is Su She ... he’s likely to take the same “This LWJ photo is 絕了” to mean the Mariana Trench kind of Absolute—the bottom of the bottom, the Unbeatable, Adjective-Defying Worst.

絕了 allows for that understanding too.

In this scenario, I interpret Gg’s 絕了 as taking the meaning of both extremes (which make it a fantastic phrase choice!): that Gg thought Dd and the team members were being both the Absolute Best (for thinking of Gg, caring for him) AND the Absolute Worst (for going against his wish to not eat!) Gg’s 絕了 also signals defeat; if Dd and his team members were The Absolute ... Whatever, then poor Gg had no choice but to yield to their wishes. I can already imagine his “I can’t believe I lose this way” Look (see: every rock-paper-scissors he lost, which was ... pretty much all of them), mixed with, perhaps, a healthy amount of bunny tooth warning (how dare Dd et al banded up against him)...

Those bunny teeth had to be taken care of, right? And so Dd went on to say lychees being good omen that ensure things would go smoothly for the eater... targeting Gg’s being a, as c-turtles call it, 小迷信 (literally, “Little Superstitious”, a young + adorable + superstitious person). Dd said that to help Gg justify the choice to eat, to make Gg feel better about his defeat.

(Of note: I had actually never heard of lychees being associated with good luck before, and a quick search online also didn’t yield any result. This could be a relatively rare association Google failed to catch ... or something Dd made up on the fly to make Gg happy.)

(Lychees have, however, been associated with romance. If Emperor’s Smile 天子笑 was The Love Drink in The Untamed, then what is Concubine’s Smile 妃子笑? Answer: it’s the RL name of a type of lychees, lychees being the fruit very much adored by Yang Yuhuan 楊玉環, the consort of the Emperor Xuanzong (685-762 BCE) of the Tang Dynasty and one of the four most beautiful woman in Chinese history. Since lychees had only been grown in southern China, the emperor had had the fruit couriered, in express mode involving many horses, to the palace up north to please his favourite wife. Lychees had become a symbol of love from that historical tale.)

Did Gg get Dd’s message then, the love and care packaged in those peeled, sweet fruit awaiting his bite? Yes, but not without a little more fight! “Eat eat eat, (I’ll eat) until you go bankrupt” is a literal translation of his final line. Tonally, I can see the following as being an alternative translation:

“Fine fine fine. I’ll eat, it’s not like I can bankrupt you by eating anyway!”

If it sounded a little sulky, that’s because it did ... a little sulky AND fiery. As expected from our favourite Chongqing Big Pepper 😂😂😂 (Poor Gg).

Dd smiled at that, needless to say. He won!!! He got Gg to eat!! The world shall rejoice!!

p5. “Showtime”

There’s a show coming up for Dd (the YH concert maybe?), and Gg offered suggestions.

The sweet point of this segment is about half-way down the conversation, in the piece of paper 📄 Gg gave to Dd (after “This is for you.”). Dd took the paper, noted the many words on it, and started saying 我把我整個靈魂, translated as “I bring my entire soul”.

c-Turtles have, based on these words, hypothesised that Dd was about to read out a quote that Gg had written on the paper, with the list of items Gg thought Dd should take, before Gg stopped him with a call of his name (“WYB”). The quote was included on the translation (”I give you my entire soul...only, a little good, love you.”) I have also talked about the same quote, in more detail, here.

I’m equally stumped on the final line of this segment. (Sorry!!)

p6. “Found Family”

It’s a heartwarming segment. While LRLG had previously noted that the TTXS bros had communicated with Gg, this segment made clear that they care for him like they do for Dd ~ as family.

* dls mailed Gg a lot of fruit for sharing with the film crew. “Family member needs to be impressive” is a rough translation, but this line does defy simple translation because 排面 a highly cultural concept that has much to do with the equally complex, Chinese concept of face (which this article explains... somewhat adequately). The message to take home is that dls cared enough about Gg that he wanted to make sure Gg wouldn’t lose face in front of the film crew; that, by having enough gifts (fruits) for everyone, Gg wouldn’t be viewed as cheap or inadequate or stingy, or whatever adjective that wouldn’t befit his top idol status. Because dls saw Gg as a member of his family.

* The prescription from hg had been mentioned in a previous LRLG rumour. 方子 is a Chinese medicine prescription, which, unlike Western formulations, is individualised both to the discomfort / ailment and to the “body constitution” of the person who'll take it, the latter deciding the kind of ailments the person is susceptible to, and which ingredients are expected to be more effective. Chinese medicine also places a strong emphasises on long-term conditioning, whether it’s for recovery from a certain condition or for general good health. A good 方子 is therefore a far more complex and personal thing than, say, a scribble of “paracetamol” / “acetaminophen” on a piece of paper. :D

* fg’s gift for Gg (xx) is something for the waist. A brace support, maybe? For example?

My favourite line in this segment is when hg asked what will Gg and Dd do when they reach hg’s age. Given that the last two items (the prescription and xx) were health-related, I interpreted it as hg worrying about Gg and Dd’s health when they grow old... with all the health problems they already have. It’s the kind of thing a worried parent say to their children ~ my mom has said the same thing to me as well. 😢

p6. “The Cat Paw”

Not quite sure what’s happening here ... not sure what the cat paw is. (Sorry!!) But that é in the translation is Dd’s signature laugh (collection here), which is written as 鵝 (”Goose”) in Chinese 😂.

p7. “The Cat Toy”

Dd appeared to be shopping for a cat’s toy (something that can “hook the cat” in the translation, such that the cat can entertain itself and not rely on human companionship as much). Gg had already bought the toy though and sounded quite proud of it, told Dd to return the toy. The implied cat was, of course, Nut (堅果 Jianguo)... which had been repeatedly referred to in LRLG’s posts as Gg’s daughter.

p7. “Cool vs Cute”

Gg is often viewed as cute, and Dd as cool. Did Dd dislike Gg taking cute pictures for public consumption? Were they scheming an exchange of image? :D

And that’s it for this issue! Ooh, this took unexpectedly long ... I apologise for the ridiculous delay between the original post and this commentary!

(I wrote half of it, then RL struck and I forgot about it.) (I’m hopeless.) (I need a 方子 for poor memory!!)

#pie eats candies #pie metas #yizhan #bjyx #LRLG

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fbfh · 3 years

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thankful for my (found) family - demisquad + reader thanksgiving special

2.4k

platonic everyone + reader, implied future/potential leo x reader if you look real close, thalia has a girlfriend that I had to make up bc they never mention hunters of artemis but go off rick, calypso is not included bc she acts more like an antagonist imo, gif doesn’t have anything to do with it besides nostalgia lmao

happy thanksgiving <33

You and Leo are cooking in the kitchen

You have been all day

The doorbell rings, and Annabeth goes to answer, binder full of travel plans in hand

“That should be-”

Clarisse enters with a loud greeting and a hug to everyone in arms reach

Percy’s loud cheers echo from the living room as he calls out the new score of the football game he’s keeping everyone updated on

She drops her bag, hopping over the back of the couch to watch with Percy

“Woah woah, catch me up Jackson! What'd I miss?”

Hazel is helping Rachel make cute diy table settings and party favors

Rachel, as with most art projects she takes on, is very focused on making it Martha Stewart levels of cute and amazing

Frank and Piper are keeping everyone updated on the parade

Frank pops down the stairs, calling out, “The last performance just ended, the dog show starts in 5!”

Hazel drops what she's doing and exclaims, “THERE’S A DOG SHOW?!”

She runs upstairs to watch with Frank, her yellow dress swishing behind her

You chuckle, calling over to Annabeth as you mix batter in a bowl, " Hey Annabeth, how are the travel plans looking?"

She shuffles through some papers in her binder

"Magnus and Alex had another layover, but they should still be able to make it in time. Thalia and her hunter friend will be here in 10, and Travis's flight got delayed because of a sudden snow storm."

"Really?" You reply, "This time of year? That's pretty ironic for a son of Hermes..."

"I know, I'm looking at some shuttle services to see if that would be faster…" Annabeth replies

Nico enters, stealing a couple appetizers, "This is so stupid, I could just go get him."

Will, right behind him, eats the appetizer Nico hands him and replies, "No you can't. Doctors orders."

Nico starts to protest

Will shoots him a look

"Boyfriend's orders."

Nico tries in vain to stare him down, "… Va’ a farti fottere." he says, cracking a smile

"Love you too," Will counters

You and Leo shoo them out of the kitchen before they steal more of your recipes

Jason and Grover walk by with a bunch of pillows and blankets, setting up guest rooms.

Grover calls through the pile of fluff he's carrying, "Hey, we're gonna need a few more pillows-"

Jason, over his pile of bedding, corrects, "A lot more!" And Annabeth runs over to help carry some of the blankets he's about to drop

"-A lot more pillows…"

You grab your keys

"okay uh… Grover, do you want to head to the store to get some more pillows-"

Leo, vigorously sautéing something adds over his shoulder, "And basil! And, uh… red wine vinegar, olive oil, and potatoes."

You rip a piece of paper off the notepad on the fridge and scribble a quick list

You're probably going to need some more ice, too

Tyson, very distressed, holds up an empty container of mellowcream pumpkins, declaring, "THERE'S NO MORE BABY PUMPKINS!" :(

you loudly add candy pumpkins to the list

Rachel approaches.

"Are you going to the store?"

"Yeah," you reply, "how's crafting going? You need anything? "

"We're almost out of glitter and mod podge. It's not looking good. We could use some more fake leaves, warm toned glitter, and rhinestones - the nice ones."

Grover looks slightly lost

You narrate as you add to the list, "Fancy rhinestones, mod podge, fake leaves, red, yellow, orange, and brown glitter…"

Tyson, still distressed, yells, "AND BABY PUMPKINS!"

You hold up the paper, "Already on the list, bud, Grover's gonna get them!"

"What if he gets the wrong kind?" Tyson asks

You, turn to Grover quietly, "Grover, can you take Tyson?"

Grover nods

"Hey Tyson, Grover has a lot of stuff to get, could you go be his shopping buddy? That way you can pick out the right baby pumpkins."

He doesn't look convinced

He wants to keep working on a secret project he’s been doing out by the garage

"And…" you add, sweetening the deal, "you can get two candies for the way home."

He agrees

You turn to Grover; "I'll call you guys an uber-"

"I'll drive."

You all turn around, shocked to see Reyna awake.

You thought she was still passed out

She showed up at 9am and immediately fell asleep from traveling all night

"Reyna, hi! Are you sure-"

"We'll be fine, I need to stretch my legs a little." She proves by rolling her shoulders

"Okay, as long as you're sure," you hand her the paper, re-entering the kitchen

She takes the paper from your hand as you shut off the beeping timer and grab a pair of oven mitts from the drawer

Reyna examines the paper, "...This is a weird list. Where are we supposed to get all this?"

Leo moves to the side as you pull out the rolls from the oven, using tongs to set them on a wire cooling rack, "Maybe target?"

Leo, still very focused on cooking, announces, "If you get me generic brand spices I will burn this place to the ground."

"O-kay," you turn back to Reyna, laughing, "there's a Wegmans and a Joanne's right next to the TJ Maxx, you can probably find everything there."

"We'll be back within the hour." She states, taking your keys.

Rachel meets her at the door. "Here, use my card. Also, make sure you get the flat backed swarovski crystals. And please pick some glitter with a nice color shift!"

You remind them to call or text with any questions and be safe

Heading back into the kitchen, you fill up a big bowl with carrots, celery, cucumbers, and mushrooms

You grab two cutting boards, knives, peelers, and a plastic bag for the peels, tips, and tails

You set it all down on the coffee table in front Percy and Clarisse

“Can you guys get the relish tray started?”

They agree, and immediately return to yelling at the referee

You shake your head laughing, and head back to the kitchen

“How we looking, Sparky?”

“Stuffing cups just went up in the oven, pie crust dough is chilling, and the green beans are almost done sauteeing. Rolls are cooling - could you stir the cranberry sauce? - and… the turkey is going up as soon as the stuffing is out.”

You stir the sauce as you continue talking

“Great! We’re making good time so far. Oh, I found a recipe for brown sugar pie, which Frank requested - apparently it’s a Canadian Thanksgiving thing - so I figured if you’re doing turkey I can handle the pies.”

He pours some cooking wine into the pan, and shakes it as the alcohol burns off

“Sounds like a plan, babycakes.”

You laugh at the nickname, and grab butter, salt, some herbs, and a stick blender to finish the potatoes

A few minutes later, you hear the door open

Reyna and the boys are back already? That was quick

You wonder if they need help bringing groceries in

“Eeeey get over here you knucklehead!”

Bags drop, and you hear Jason laughing in protest

You poke your head out of the kitchen, and see Thalia with Jason in a headlock

In spite of the fact that he’s about half a foot taller than her, she’s still noogie-ing him, pretending she can’t hear him objecting through his laughs

She finally lets him go, greeting everyone as he adjusts his glasses

She bear hugs Annabeth, punches Percy in the arm, and high fives and hugs pretty much everyone else

You run up the stairs to the guest room Grover was setting up before he left

You finish making the bed head back down, meeting Frank and Hazel on the way

"Oh, Hazel, what did you think of the dog show?"

"It blew my wig!" She says giddily

A confused smile settles on your face

"It was awesome and she loved it," Frank translates smoothly

He and Will are understandably best at deciphering 40s slang

Thalia is introducing everyone to Amber, a girl she’d met on the hunt and become really close with

You greet her, and turn to Thalia

“Your room is all set up if you wanna get settled in,” you turn to Amber, “and yours will be ready soon,”

They share a look

“Oh,” Thalia starts grabbing their bags, “that’s fine, we can share a room. We share a tent on the hunt all the time, right Ambie?”

"Oh,”

And then it clicks

“yeah, however you’re comfortable.”

You grab one of the bags, and help them upstairs

“Why don’t you guys take a while to settle in, I’ll tell the others you’re resting.”

They thank you, and you start to leave

“By the way,” you poke your head back in, “you two seem really cute together. Welcome to the family, Amber.”

She blushes and Thalia gives you an appreciative look

You nod and head back down

You let the others know they’re going to nap for a little while, and not to wake them up

“Hey, any travel updates?” You ask Annabeth, on your way back into the kitchen

“Alex just texted, she and Magnus are finally on their way, should be here in the next few hours. As for Travis…”

She holds out her phone, showing you Travis’s tiktok

He’s filming the mirror in the airport bathroom

“So uh, my flight’s delayed, I’m bored, I’m gonna fuck with some people,” he holds out a hand full of stickers that look like outlets

He records himself putting them around the airport, then gets people’s reactions when they try to use them

He ends the video asking for more prank ideas

You look back up at Annabeth, holding back a laugh, “Seems like he’s doing okay,”

“Oh,” she replies, “that’s not all.”

She scrolls up, showing the next prank video where Travis goes around the airport having fake phone conversations to get people’s reactions

Conversation topics including ‘I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but slept with your grandma’, ‘hey bro I can’t come to the party, also turns out I’m going to be your stepdad’, ‘hey dude remember that old lady we used to cat sit for? Well, I found out I got chlamydia from her, so…’, and ‘yeah man, I’m so excited for the poetry slam. Also, it turns out my jazz fever is actually syphilis.’.

Your hand flies over your mouth, trying not to laugh loudly enough to wake Thalia and Amber

“Yeah,” Annabeth says, fighting her own laughter, “he’s doing okay.”

You start putting together ingredients for pie filling

“That is the most in character thing I could have imagined,” you laugh, and Annabeth shows Leo the videos

“There’s a bunch more, too,” she adds, “Around making tiktoks, he found a bus heading this way. He’ll be here in a few hours.”

“Cutting it close,” you muse, filling pies, “I’m glad he’s not stuck at the airport though. How about Connor?”

“Haven’t heard much from him, but he said he'll be here in time for dinner."

A little while later, Thalia and Amber re enter, joining Percy and Clarisse in the living room

The door opens shortly after, and Tyson enters, arms full of containers of candy pumpkins

Reyna and Grover are right behind him

You take Grover's bags, announcing that Thalia got here a little while ago

He bleats excitedly and runs to hug her, Reyna right on his heels

Piper and Tyson bring in the rest of the groceries

Tyson sets down the last bags in the kitchen, looks out the window, yells, "IT'S ALMOST SUNSET!", and runs back out into the back yard, presumably to finish his mystery project

Everyone eventually makes their way to the living room, nibbling on appetizers and watching classic Thanksgiving specials

The food is almost done, all that's left is decorating the pies and a little tidying up

You walk over to Leo, placing your hand on his shoulder

He looks up at you

"Why don't you go take a quick shower and change before dinner," you muse, knowing the hoodie and jeans he's been cooking in all day isn't the outfit he'd picked out, "I'll wrap things up in here,"

He thanks you, dramatically presses a kiss to your forehead, and exits the kitchen

You decorate the pies distractedly, catching the doorbell right before the second ring

You smile at the people about to enter

"Annabeth," you call, "Magnus and Alex are here!"

She drops what she's doing, and runs over to greet them

Leo is back down stairs a short while later

His brick red hoodie replaced with a burgundy one - his fancy hoodie as he calls it - a heavy flannel layered on top, and a beanie pulled over his almost dry hair

His pyrokinesis makes you forget how cold he gets sometimes

You're about to go upstairs to change out of your cooking clothes when Tyson enters dramatically

"The surprise is done!"

Everyone files outside to see what Tyson made as he leads you all out to the garage

Perfectly attached to the side, is a very small horse stable

"Wow!" Percy starts, "Great job, dude!"

Tyson is beaming as he's showered with confused praise

"So uh," Percy ventures, "what did you build it for?"

"Maybe something like this?!" Descending voices declare in unicen

Travis and Connor land in front of you on no other than Blackjack

Everyone erupts into cheers

“I thought you were stuck at the airport! What about those tiktoks?”

“Saved in my drafts, baby!” Travis laughs

Percy greets Blackjack and everyone else heads back inside with Travis and Connor

You run upstairs to shower quickly and change, and are back downstairs just in time for appetizers and drinks

You're about to take a sip of coffee when the door opens

An irregular set of footsteps echoes into the room, along with a familiar voice

"Ah, children, I hope there's room for one more,"

Everyone turns in surprise as Chiron enters the room

After lots of warm excited greetings and making sure he has a warm cup of tea, he settles in to chat for a while

"I was on my way to meet with my more, ah, rambunctious cousins, but I couldn't let a day like today pass without stopping by."

After two cups of tea and lovely conversations, Chiron heads out to meet up with the other party ponies

Thalia, Percy, and Will get all the food on the dining room table while Rachel makes the finishing touches to the centerpieces

Everyone finds their seat, and you make the first toast

"I think I can speak for everyone when I say I'm thankful for you guys - my found family."

Every glass is raised

You can all drink to that.

#Heroes of Olympus #heroes of olympus headcanons #heroes of olympus x reader #Leo Valdez #pjo imagine #also the thing nico says to will means go fuck yourself in italian #bc he is a warm gushy affectionate boyfriend #:)#I was gonna put a translation but i think it's funnier if you google translate it yourself #especially if it says fuck you or some shit like that #never fails to make me laugh #also this was the first thanksgiving i can remember not being debilitatingly dissappointed on #so uh #i'm rlly happy abt that thanks mom ily #yeah when you cut a narcissist out of your life your debilitating dissappointment rates plummet #it's a nice feeling #lmfao oversharing hours are coming to a close #I hope you all had a good day today #if you don't celebrate american thanksgiving i hope your thursday was nice #ily all and I'm so grateful for all of you #I'm gonna try to answer all your nice asks soon i have had zero social juice or i would have done it already #cause i really wanna <333 #I love you babes #you're all the best xoxo #fr how did I manage to attract such nice people to my blog #not gonna look this gift horse in the mouth #anyway good night I hoep you enjou six or so pages of domestic hoo holiday fluff #bc I sure did uwu

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super-predictable98 · 3 years

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(Not) My Dream Girl | Princess Jellyfish AU

Warning: Strong language (homphobic slur), mention of alcohol.

(Masterlist)

September 10th

Dear Diary,

I can't ignore it any longer. I am definitely, undeniably, incredibly, irrevocably in love with Ms. Kuranosuke Koibuchi. How did I think I could ever fight this feeling? Yeah, it's only been five days, but if that isn't love... I don't know what love is and I don't want it either!

I didn't find out much about her ever since our meet cute. I know she wears a lot of wigs, every day she has a different hair and I'm still trying to figure out which one's the real one. Apparently, her family is loaded, that's the only way someone could get their hands on that many high quality wigs. I also know her eyes are definitely not contacts as I previously thought. How do I know, you may ask? Miracles happen.

"Oh jeez y/n, I got something in my eye, could you help me?" she whined in her usual cheeky manner. And boy, is she cheeky! She's a tease even when she doesn't want to be. Her snarky remarks, her taunting, her silly jokes... How can someone be so perfect inside and out?

You know that friend who realizes your order is wrong or hears someone treating you poorly and won't stop until they make it right? Even when you're anxious and just wanna run, they won't let you, because they know you deserve the best. That's Suke. Shameless, extroverted, charismatic Suke.

I held her beautiful face between my hands and blew gently to get whatever was in her eye out, probably one of her freakishly long lashes, which have to be fake, there's no way! But even if they are, she's still just as stunning without them.

With how close I was, I would've noticed if she had contacts in, her violet eyes are completely natural, like Elizabeth Taylor.

"Thank you," she sighed relieved, and leaned back, spreading her legs in the most unladylike way possible, but somehow it looked good for her. "What? Why do you always look at me like that?" she laughed.

I knew exactly what look she was referring to, but I couldn't help it. Before I realized it, I was staring like someone would stare at a work of art.

"Nothing, I- I like your shoes."

"Thank you!" she pretended to believe me, which I am grateful for, but the smirk tugging at her lips let me know she knew there was something else, some other reason why I acted like a short-circuiting robot next to her. "I'd totally let you have them, but they're probably too big for you... If you ever visit Japan I could show you where I got them."

"Too big? What size shoes do you wear?"

"10, I believe? All these American measures are messing with my head."

At first, I thought she was confused, maybe something was lost in translation, but when I discreetly placed my foot next to hers, it was pretty clear she wasn't wrong. Her feet were massive next to mine, which I guess is expected, very tall top models usually have bigger feet. Now I'm gonna stop with the feet talk before it becomes weird.

It's odd to think I met Suke less than a week ago, she's very good at making it seem like you've been her long time friend. She talks freely about everything (she especially enjoys when I ramble about musical theatre, she says my geeky talk is a hundred times more interesting than anything else), she casually invites me for lunch or any other opportunity to spend time together, she touches me like we've been friends for ages.

I don't know if that makes sense, but it's true, she holds my hand and wraps her arms around me, and kisses me on the cheek, and leans against me with her head on my shoulder.

Oh God, I'm so gay.

Sometimes I think she knows the effect she has on me. When she asks for a favor, flashing me those puppy dog eyes, so fucking sure I'm gonna say yes... When she places one hand on my knee and I shudder, making her giggle and ask if I'm okay in that teasing tone of hers... When she gently tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear, her gaze taking turns between my eyes and my lips.

"Do you have a boyfriend?" she asked last night as we walked around campus, a little buzzed after our first college party (which for the record was waaaay less cool than I thought it was gonna be, people hype college parties too much). "Or a girlfriend?"

"N-no," I stammered, my heart threatening to jump out of my mouth any second. "I actually never had one."

"Does that mean you're a virgin?" she cocked one eyebrow at me, taking me by surprise and I nearly choked on my milkshake.

"No! Of course not, I just never had a relationship," I managed to say as I gasped for air and I couldn't tell if she was pleased or not with the answer. "But I never had sex with a girl, only boys so far."

"So far? So you're not straight," it wasn't a question, it was more like a conclusion, so I simply nodded in response.

"I'm bisexual."

"That's cool. I wasn't expecting you to be a virgin, you're too cute for that," there she was teasing me again. She had to be doing it on purpose. "You know, back home I had sooooo many girls chasing after me, it was exhausting, I hated it. None of them ever actually wanted to know me, they just liked the view. I had dozens of girlfriends, but I don't think I actually loved anyone enough to imagine spending my life with them."

"Girlfriends? You like girls?"

"Yeah, of course I do," she chuckled as if it was obvious.

"Just girls?"

"Just girls."

BINGO!! That must be why she acted the way she did when we were walking around Park Slope after an art exhibit and someone called us dykes because we were holding hands. I never thought I'd hear that in New York City of all places, but I guess assholes are a universal thing...

"HEY!" she growled, almost like a lion, her voice growing deeper and her accent somewhat disappearing. "What did you just say, you piece of shit? Come here and say it to my face! Let's see how brave you are, I'll kick your pitiful excuse for a dick so far up that you'll feel it in your throat!" WOW, that was really hot, I was basically melting in her arms at that point. "I'm so sorry, honey, I just can't stand that ignorance."

Anyway, we had lots of fun at the party even if the party itself sucked, Suke can make anything fun. We danced, we sang karaoke, we drank Jello shots... Way too many Jello shots. And that's why she was walking me to my dorm, somehow she seemed to tolerate alcohol better than me. Must be because she's so tall, so she gets less drunk.

Or maybe it was all the pizza she was eating, I'm pretty sure she tackled almost an entire pie by herself... How the hell is she so thin? I watched her voraciously devouring slice after slice while still on my second one and she smiled.

"What?" she laughed. She could be the most graceful creature on the face of the Earth, but she was choosing not to. Maybe she just feels comfortable around me, she trusts me!

Once we got here, she helped me undress and tucked me in, but before I knew she was drooling on my pillow. Poor thing must've been so tired. As I'm writing this, Suke is laying right next to me, all wrapped up in my blanket which will probably smell like her in the morning. Her amazing smell of freedom, her smell of walking around the theatre district at night, her smell of seeing the NYC lights for the first time when you arrive.

tag list: @elliethesuperfruitlover

#kuranosuke #kuranosuke x reader #kuranosuke koibuchi #princess jellyfish fanfic #princess jellyfish #kuragehime fanfic #kuragehime #fanfic

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supereffectivemoonblast · 2 years

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Rise of the Lich Queen

Chapter 8: Gaslight, Gatekeep, Girlboss

The up and coming champions of Veritas Stadium are roused from their down time by a letter sent from across the land. The Adventurers are asking for help gathering shards of the Lich Queen's soul, and the investigator Whiff of Mystery asks the Fighters Unchained if they'd like to help.

The Fighters Unchained; (from left to right) Thaldin, Swift, Norm, Calamastia, Thaec

After shopping for adventuring supplies around the city, and visiting Chancellor Otto for a letter of introduction, they set out for the bordering Nation of Westerwuste. This country is currently in strife from the chaos the Lich Queen has sown, so the party are advised to be on their guard.

They are stopped at the border and initially refused entry based on the shady looking appearance of the party. But some fear-mongering from Calamastia, Thaldin, and Thaec convince the border guard that it would be in their best interests to let them through and onto the nation's capital, the City of Vetus. Calamastia reveals she is a princess of a foreign land that ran away from home, but she still keeps a dress and wig handy for when appearances matter.

They soon arrive at a very barren cold looking city. The general populace have been advised to stay off the streets, and the guards hurridly shoo anyone still out. The party ask some guards where they can find the Duke of Vetus, whom Otto's letter is specifically addressed to. They arrive at his Manor to find out he's out for the day, but after wandering the streets for a bit to look for a tavern, Calamastia spots him.

The Duke, an elf named Lehran, is accompanied by a mysterious swordsman named Sho, his guardian, sheltering him from the little sunlight present, and from onlookers. Upon seeing the letter, Duke Lehran agrees to a short chat.

Left: Duke Lehran Persis, Right: His bodyguard Sho

He reveals that he has been personally effected by a lot of the chaos of the current world. He lost a family member due to the allure of the Soul Shards, and although he used to guard one himself, it was stolen by the witches of the Temple Lavi Tori. The witches have sent torrents of monsters into Vetus City this last few months, and it's people are fearing for their lives. Lehran asks that if this party are looking to get the hag's Soul Shard, he hopes they can stop them altogether.

As this conversation happens, a nearby group of apparently drunken men are causing a ruckus in the streets. And confusion quickly turns to fear as each of these men transform into tree monsters called Wood Woads.

The party, city guards, and Sho all take part to try and slay the monsters, and although the party are powerful, their efforts are apparently in vain, as the monsters start getting up from being slain. Thaec theorises that Fire Magic may be needed to destroy the monsters once and for all, and Duke Lehran helps out by casting a holy spell called Flame Strike.

Most combatants work to push the Wood Woads to brink of defeat, while Lehran and Thaldin use Fire Magic to finish them off one at a time. Norm gets sick of this process, and starts weilding a flaming torch as a makeshift weapon, inspiring the town guards to do the same, and they burn the monsters beyond repair.

Duke Lehran reiterates that attacks like these will only keep happening if the witches are left unchecked and asks the party again to deal with them ASAP if they can, before leaving to patrol the rest of the city with Sho.

Left: Wood Woad, D&D 5E Official Art, Right: Coda, Cadence's brother

The party find lodging with a Lizardfolk chef named Coda, who's worried with the dangers of the world, hoping his brother Cadence, is still safe out there. The party thank Coda for his hospitality and manage to coax some information out of him about how to get to the Hag Temple of Lavi Tori.

#drawing #art #d&d #digital art #d&d oc #d&d art #d&d campaign #dungeons and dragons #dungeons and doodles #lich queen saga

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inkandpen22 · 3 years

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Time is Irrelevant (2/?): Vive La France

Pairing: Eleventh Doctor x Female!Reader

Warnings: swearing, mention of death

Word Count: 4.5k (she’s long lol sorry about it)

Part Summary: Y/N wakes up dazed and confused. From then on, things only get more confused as she starts to realize she’s in 18th century France with a strange man.

Masterlist

I gradually open my eyes, my vision blurry at first. A bright light burns them and I feel as though I’m staring into the gates of Heaven. Then, the memory of what happened jolts me awake. Startled, I frantically scan my surroundings. I come to the horrifying conclusion that I’m no longer at the table in the student union. In fact, I have no clue where I am! I’m in a bedroom, on a bed with tall dark wood posts. The room looks too grand and vintage to be anywhere on campus. It’s baby blue walls and crown molding don’t exactly scream cinderblock dorm room. The furniture appears to be so detailed and too fragile to touch, which will be a problem because I woke up on the bed. Am I in a museum?

I stand up cautiously, afraid someone may barge in. I glance down and I see I’m in a white cotton nightgown. A grandma nightgown, seriously? How did I get here and why am I in grandma's pajamas? As I take in my appearance, I don’t see any injuries or bruising, that’s good. I feel alright, panicked, but alright. My brain is pounding against my skull. I can hear my mom now, ranting in my mind. She’d say, “don’t hurry to get up! You could have a concussion.” I rarely listen to her and I don’t plan on starting now.

I step closer to what appears to be a balcony and I peer out to get an idea of where I am. Leaning over the iron rail, I see a dirt road below. People crowd the streets, they maintain a loud banter. Their clothes, they’re odd. Wait, is that man wearing a white wig? Where the hell am I? A gold plated carriage goes by down the street and a man yells at the top of his lungs in what sounds to me as French. As I focus on the commotion, all I hear is French. I take note of the architecture of the surrounding buildings and it all is very French, specifically Parisian. I’m not an expert who has never been to France but I would say the architecture of Paris is pretty iconic. Wait no, this can’t be real! It couldn’t be possible in Paris! How could I possibly be in the United States one minute, then wake up in France? It’s not possible. My heart drops, I’ve been kidnapped and taken out of the country!

“Good! You’re awake!”

I jump at the sudden voice. When I whip around, I spot the strange man from before entering the room.

“Put this on,” he instructs, tossing me a gown nonchalantly. “You stand out like a lily in a field full of daisies.”

I take in his appearance. He’s decked out in colonial-era clothing like the cluster of people down below. My mind screams, reminding me that this is all ridiculous. There’s no way I’m in France and there must be a good reason as to why everyone is dressed as though we’re about to go eat some cake with Marie Antonette. I snickered lightly, baffled at the idea of any of this being real. I’m clearly still asleep.

“Y/N!” The strange professor snaps his fingers and I'm pulled from my thoughts. “Please, before we’re late!”

I snap out of the daze and remember that this man has kidnapped me. Chucking the dress onto the bed, I proceed to bark at him. “Where am I?! Where have you taken me?!” My voice progressively escaping me in screams.

He grins slyly, staring into my soul. “I believe you've already figured that out for yourself…”

I shake my head, laughing at what he’s suggesting. He must think I’m an idiot. He narrows his eyes at me, curious.

“Oh please,” I tease him. “You can’t possibly think I would believe any of this? I’m in college, not kindergarten! Now, let me go!” I start to approach the door but he steps in my way.

His fingers wrap around my forearm with a forceful grip. “Look Y/N, we don’t have time for this! You ARE indeed in France. You ARE in 1778! Now, get dressed! We can’t be late!”

I stare into his eyes as he shouts this nonsense to me. The miniature oceans that encompass them. They have this electricity about them that draws me in and I feel hypnotized. Yet, I must remain level headed if I plan on escaping and surviving this.

Aggressively, I yank my arm free. “Let go of me you psycho! Have you lost your mind? There’s no way-”

The professor wraps his arm around me and presses his free hand over my mouth. I scream for someone to help, but my words are muffled against his hand.

“But it is!” He argues, “I possess the ability to time travel! Okay! The Eye of Harmony, Rassilon's Star, it exists!”

Upon hearing his words, I stop fighting him, utterly stunned. His hands ease off of my face and release my arm. My chest rises and plummets at an inconsistent rate. There are very few people who speak of the star. It’s legend, ancient mythology, lost in history.

“But…” I struggle to find the words, “but that's not possible.” My volume has lost its touch. My words flowing out like little puffs of wind.

“But it is! Now, get dressed and I’ll explain everything!” He tells me, seemingly eager to clear the air.

I watch silently as he turns to leave abruptly. Does he drop the bombshell that he may have the most powerful stone in the world then goes to leave? Of course, he would.

As he walks away, he presses, “we have somewhere we need to be and soon!”

Processing the situation, I take matters into my own hands. “Will you just wait for a second?!”

Irritable, he crosses his arms, “what it is?”

“I believe I deserve some sort of explanation! Now! I’m not going anywhere with you until you give me some sort of explanation now!”

He huffs, rubbing his temple. “We’re in France! I need you in that dress! We have an appointment and running late! There’s your explanation! Now if you’ll please,” he gestures towards the gown on the bed.

Swallowing hard, I comprehend the fact that he won’t be so forthcoming with me. I’ve seen plenty of thrillers where a girl is kidnaped and she acts out or doesn’t do anything which leads to her demise. I always shout at the girls to play along until the right opportunity arises. For all I know, I’m somewhere close to school and he’s messing with my head. All I’m sure about is I have to make it home.

“1778 you claim?” I clarify as I pick up the dress on the bed. As I examine the attire, I’m reminded of how uncomfortable women dressed. “This should be interesting...” If I’m going to play along I’ll need the proper attire and this isn’t it. I huff, “I’ll need a corset, heels, shift, pannier-”

The professor waves his hands for me to quiet down. “Yes! Yes, I know! I’ll be sending Joséphine in to help you. Any further questions?”

I shake my head, still struggling to cope.

“Very well,” he bows his head. As soon as he appeared he disappears into the halls. As soon as the door shuts, I feel as though I’m on the verge of fainting. I stumble over to the balcony in search of an escape route. I may only have minutes before he returns.

“I must be dreaming,” I tell myself to remain sane.

He’s really taking this whole charade about time travel seriously. Apart of me wishes to believe what he’s saying is true, the part of me that loves history blindly. If I’m truly in 1778 Paris that would incredible. Yet, I know logically time travel is impossible. Except, according to legend, the Eye of Harmony is said to allow time travel. Of course, that’s just ancient mythology, folklore. There’s no one alive that’s seen the star.

I watch the people in the streets below in awe. It all seems so real, the wagons, women dressed in corsets, and men dressed like the Founding Fathers. He must’ve drugged me, that’s the only explanation. Suddenly, the door creaks behind me and I jump like a scared cat. A lady, whom I assume is Joséphine, enters the room.

“Bonsoir Madame,” she greets me with a curtsy.

“Bonsoir…” I mutter, terrified but trying to remain calm.

Joséphine offers me a reassuring smile. I’m guessing she’s about my age, perhaps a few years older but not much. She guides me over to the vanity gently. At first, I stay as still as a statue. I watch as she picks up a few containers on the table and skims the labels.

“Ah oui!” She blurts out, apparently, she’s found what she was looking for.

After she selects a brush from the jar, she prepares to start on my makeup but I stop her.

“I’m okay, really! I just-”

“Non, non, non,” she objects. “ce soir madame vous devez avoir l'air parfait!”

Great, so if this really is 1778 then I’m about to get a heavy dose of lead poisoning. This white powder she’s spreading on my face makes me look like Casper. I respect the bold fashion of this era but rosy cheeks, cherry lips, and silk white skin, not my best look.

Once I’m suffocating in my dress, she pushes me down into the chair in front of the vanity and roughly yanks my auburn hair up. I study in the mirror as she pins my hair down to my scalp and digs the pins into my head. How the hell am I supposed to balance this clump of hair on my head? It’s taller than my entire head.

“Ouch!” I bark.

“Pardon, Madame,” she apologizes softly.

After I appear the part, Joséphine leads me through the house. It’s beautiful. The detail in the crown modeling and art-like wallpaper are so unique. I gawk at the walls as we walk through each room. She leads the way through the double front doors to a carriage where I’m met by the strange professor.

“Merci,” I thank Joséphine, though the experience wasn’t the most enjoyable.

She bows her head and leaves to return inside. I approach the professor, who’s dressed in the traditional french male attire of the time, wig in all. For a moment, it takes my breath away. I read so many books and seen so many movies about the era but nothing as felt more real than this.

“Nice wig,” I tease a bit, stifling a giggle.

“Dido,” he jokes in return.

“My head feels ten pounds heavier,” I poke at the cotton ball on my head. “How do I balance it?”

“You’ll learn. Takes practice.” The professor chuckles then snap his fingers for the footman to open the door of the carriage. Gesturing toward the door, he allows me to enter first.

I swift my gaze toward our mode of transpiration. I’ve never seen an authentic 18th-century carriage of this magnitude. The gold frame and light baby blue fabric are luxurious. I can only imagine how much history is within this carriage, at least will be I suppose.

“Are you admiring it or afraid of it?” The professor chuckles beside me.

“It’s… I’ve never seen anything like it.”

I’m not saying I entirely believe him with his fairytales but nonetheless, this experience so far has been like passages from my textbooks. I can feel him staring at me as I examine the carriage. It’s all too remarkable for me to look away.

“I see Joséphine did your hair and makeup as well, good,” He states with a grin. “If we’ll be at court, you’ll need to look the part.”

Before I have the chance to question his meaning, he offers me his hand to help me into the carriage. I’m hesitant. After all, this dude did kidnap me. As for his reasoning, I’m still in the dark. All I know is, possibly, that I’m in an entirely different country and almost three hundred years in the past, so he claims. I have no idea who he is or why he has me here. Yet, for some strange reason, I find myself trusting him slightly and against my better judgment. It’s his eyes. Every time I fall into them my gut tells me to trust him.

The professor sits across from me and settles in. The footman shuts the door and the driver calls to the horses to go along.

“Court?” I interrogate him, “as in the royal court?”

“Yes, precisely,” he replies as if it makes perfect sense.

He must be bonkers! There is no way we could be on our way to Versailles during the era of the monarchy and dressed like this!

“Right, right…” I raise a brow, “and who is king exactly?”

He rubs his hands up and down his thighs nervously. “That’s where you come in!”

“Me?!”

Quite frankly some rulers were just plain crazy and were temperamental! Plus, the French and English were constantly at war during the 18th century! This isn’t the time to visit for peace and quiet.

He scoffs, leaning forward to keep his voice down. “That’s the reason you’re here Miss Historian! You’re in charge of knowing everything about every century we visit!”

I narrow my eyes, “every century? Last I checked I never agreed to travel across time with you?!”

If that’s even what we’re doing. If he expects me to go to another destination with him he’s sorely mistaken.

He grins, not believing me for a second. “Oh, so you much rather go home? Sit behind a desk instead of meeting the very people you’re studying?”

If any of this was true, he’d have a point. I’ll never grant him the satisfaction of admitting that.

I scoff, “fine! You said it was 1778, correct?”

“Yes, that’s right,” he answers quickly.

“Okay… ” I stare up at the ceiling to focus, reviewing my knowledge of the French monarchy. It appears in my mind like a timeline. I mumble, “1778… that’s in the middle of the American Revolution which means it’s before the French Revolution so the king would be… oh my god!”

My hand flies up to my mouth. I can’t believe it! If this man is telling the truth, then we’re in quite the most interesting year.

His eyes widen in horror and he grips my hands between us. “What?! What is it?!”

“Louis XVI! Louis XVI is the king! Oh, this is too good! Marie freaking Antoinette! Seriously? I can’t believe this!” I squeal, jumping up and down in my seat uncontrollably, causing the carriage to rock.

A part of me is starting to fall for the man’s word, perhaps I really am in 1778. At least then I could actually meet Louis XVI. For a second, I felt myself believing wholeheartedly.

“Is he cruel?! Kind Hearted?! Best king France has ever had?!”

I laugh, has he never picked up a history book?

“Sir, have you never heard of Louis XVI before? He’s infamous! What about the French Revolution? I mean… if we really are where you say we are, we’re living in it!”

He pouts, peering at me like an offended child. “No actually, I have heard of him! I guess you could just say he’s after my time. I’m better acquainted with his father,” he adds in a mutter.

I scrunch my eyebrows, “after your time? How could he be after-”

He cuts me off, “forget it. I’ll explain at a better time. As for now, your job is to inform me of everything I need to know about the French court. I know how to handle royalty and the protocol. All I need is for you to help me with the background information on these individuals. Though all royals are superficially the same I have to gain their trust on a personal level. In exchange, I’ll help you play the part of a lady of the court.”

I huff as I readjust my skirt, somewhat offended. Simply because I wasn’t born an aristocrat with a stick up my butt doesn’t mean I don’t know how to act civilized.

“I know how to be a lady! I can curtsy and whatnot!”

He stifles a laugh, raising a brow. “Y/N, have you ever even met a royal?”

He’s right once again. In my defense, America isn’t exactly crawling with monarchs. We got rid of that whole issue centuries ago.

“No…” I timidly admit.

He has a point, which annoys me. I may have been taught table manners and proper etiquette by my grandmother growing up but her rules are nothing compared to a royal court’s. I would be walking into a lion’s den without Danny’s guidance.

“So then, do we have a deal?” He holds out his hand. A mischievous grin coats his lips.

For all I know, I could be agreeing to anything. He could turn back on his word at any moment. I don’t trust him, not in the slightest. Yet, If I agree for the time being, it could buy me my freedom. I take a chance.

I shake his hand, “deal.”

His eyes widen, “almost forgot!”

He reaches into his frilly French jacket pocket and reveals a key. A standard old, metal key with a long string attached.

“You’ll be needing it.” He assures me as he shifts toward me and begins to put it around my neck.

“What is it?” I ask, still in awe.

“A key…” He sasses.

“Ugh,” I roll my eyes, “obviously! I’m asking why do I need it?”

“It’s to my Tardis,” he states as though everyone has one.

“What the hell-”

The carriage jolts to a stop abruptly. Soon, the driver opens the door for us and offers his hand for assistance. My mind is still focused on the blast the professor just sent in my direction. I’m still stuck on his statement, he’s after my time. What did he mean by that? Then, I learn that magic is basically real, along with time-travel.

My train of thought is soon interrupted by the professor calling my name. I hadn’t noticed him climb out of the carriage I was so deep within myself. I accept the hand of the driver and step down out of the carriage. Many of them that are similar to our own are lined up single file. Danny offers me his arm which I take instantly. I gawk at the copper-colored palace with gold embellishments. I’ve always wanted to visit Versailles. I never would have guessed it would be in this setting. I imagined hundreds of tourists with their phones out, too occupied to enjoy the magnificence in front of them. Instead, I’m surrounded by men in bright colored breeches and women wearing wigs that could reach the heavens.

“Are you alright?” he peers down at me, worried.

“Yes, it’s just… I’ve never seen anything like it,” I admit, breathlessly.

Men and women dressed in extravagant jewels and clothes. Only the highest social figures are gawking at the palace, arm in arm.

“It’s the king’s twenty-fourth birthday ball,” he informs me as we stroll into the palace doors behind various couples of the time.

My pulse must be through the roof I’m so anxious. My mind is racing. Danny is putting on a convincing show that we belong here. He has is his role well-rehearsed it appears.

“Stay close,” he instructs, searching the entrance hall.

I grip his arm, halting before we go in.

“What is it?” The man questions.

“What your name?” I comprehend I’ve never learned it. With everything going on, there was never a proper moment. Now, I realize there will never be.

“I’m the Doctor,” he answers with a sly grin.

“’ The Doctor?’ Well, I’m sorry to break it to you but there’s more than just one doctor in the world,” I laugh, this man can’t be serious.

“No,” he huffs, “my name is Doctor. I’m a... you know what, never mind. I’ll-”

“You’ll explain later,” I finish.

“Look at you catching on quickly,” he compliments and pinches my cheek. I swat his hand away with a frown. Geez, he’s annoying. He’s like the Energizer bunny in human form.

“Let’s head inside,” he instructs, guiding me along.

I adjust my skirt briefly, correcting any wrinkles from the ride here. He clears his throat and my eyes meet him as he gestures toward the ceiling with a smirk. It takes every cell of my being and a lot of self-control to not let my jaw drop. Absentmindedly, my arm falls from the Doctor as he continues to walk down the Hall of Mirrors and leaves me in awe of the architecture. I slowly come to a stop as I become engrossed in the details.

It suddenly hits me like a pile of bricks, this is all real. Everything the Doctor has said must be true. I went along with his word but now I truly believe it. The hand-painted ceiling, the solid gold statues that reflect in the mirrors, the marble walls surrounding them, and the crystal chandeliers that line the grand hall. The remaining light of the setting sun pours in through the windows and bounces off the floor. There is no possible way Versailles could be like this in modern times, it’s far too untouched and pristine. This means I’m honestly, without a doubt, in the year 1778. My heart feels as though it’s plummeted to my stomach. Oh my God, this is remarkable! This is every history lover’s dream! I’m living out my textbooks. I’m experiencing history first hand!

It must’ve taken the Doctor very little time to notice my absence. He calmly approaches me, visibly aware of my clear baffled state. I believe my reaction is valid considering the circumstances.

He whispers, “is it what you imagined based on your history books?”

I shake my head, nearly speechless. All I can do is gawk at everyone and everything around me. “It’s beyond anything I could imagine!” I finally break my attention away from the exquisite art to meet his gaze. “I believe you,” I confess to him.

Slight grin forms on the edge of his lips and his eyes fall to the floor with a slight chuckle. “I always knew you would…” He mutters under his breath.

Offering me his arm, he escorts me into a crowded ballroom. The Doctor must know the layout of the palace quite well unless he’s simply following the flow of the crowd. An orchestra plays in the background as drinks are passed around by servants with trays. I spin around slowly, staring up at the ceiling and chandeliers. All of the stories in these walls, the royals that have lived here, what will become of this palace, my head is spinning as I review the details. The music comes to a sudden halt along with the movement and banter in the room. All attention turns toward the double doors across the ballroom as they swing open. People shuffle closer, peering over each other’s heads to sneak a peek. Trumpets play a melody familiar to anyone, the signal of the King and Queen entering the room. Through the space between heads, I can see glimpses of the young notorious couple. Marie Antoinette’s tall and decorated wig, her pale and porcelain-like skin, her extraordinary gown, all perfect. The crowd disburses and form their miniature groups again. The Doctor snatches two champagne flutes from a passing tray and hands one to me.

“Doctor,” I whisper to him cautiously, in case of prying ears. “Why are we here? Don’t get me wrong, I’m ecstatic but I don’t understand the purpose?”

He pulls me aside behind one of the pillars for some privacy. He scans the room to make sure no one is watching us. His actions have me wondering if our purpose here could put us in danger.

“How much do you know about the monarchs and the palace itself?”

My brows rise in astonishment, I start to question myself on how he doesn’t find the answer obvious by now. I spent a whole semester studying King Louis XVI, Marie Antoinette, the French Revolution, and Versailles alone. Of course, that doesn’t make me an expert by any means but I would say I’m well-read.

He catches on to my sass and dismisses it. “Fine, fine fine, so you know a lot! Tell me more please!”

I nod, gathering the important bits from memory to summarize it all. To condense all of this history into such a brief yet crucial conversation is anything but fun.

“Okay well, I think the most important fact we have to consider is currently Her Majesty is pregnant with the couple’s first child. The baby will be a girl. Her name will be Marie-Thérèse-Charlotte de Bourbon. The couple will attempt to have more children, to have a male heir, but none will live past the age of eleven. The French Revolution won’t begin for another ten years. Both the King and the Queen will lose their lives, sadly, along with many members of the aristocracy. Then, Napoleon will become emperor. As for Versailles, it was completed in 1668 for King Louis XIV. During the revolution basically, everything will be taken from here. In modern times, the 21st century, most of it will be returned. That’s a summary of some basic information.”

The Doctor gawks at me, “you know all of this by heart? You wonderful little human. How do you memorize it all?”

I shrug, glancing in the direction of where I last saw the royal couple. “I suppose I’ve always cared so much about these people and their stories that it never really leaves me.”

The unfamiliar faces in this room are forming the world I must live in hundreds of years from now and none of them know it. The world will be completely altered by the end of the century. Every single person in this room is set to believe their roles here are unwavering. Little do they know that in less than a decade, all of it will be gone, nothing but a memory.

“I forgot to mention,” The Doctor mumbles and holds up the key that has slipped beneath the front of my dress. “Never lose it. Draw as little attention to it as possible. While we’re here, your job is to play Miss Know-it-all and mine is to find this journal.”

We’re interrupted by the grandfather clock when it dings in the corner. The Doctor’s head whips over in its direction, he checks the time.

“I have to go,” he informs me in a rush.

“But I-” I start, having a million questions.

“I’ll be back. Blend into the crowd! We’ll leave as soon as possible,” he instructs before disappearing into the cluster of people.

I stand awkwardly alone, afraid to move the slightest step. I’m surrounded by a bunch of dead people. Well, they’re not dead now, but when I’m alive they will be. I’m Versailles, holy shit! And I’m not even on a tourist trip to Versailles, no I’m at a ball in the Revolution Era! I would jump up and down squealing but I doubt that’s allowed. Instead, I’ll just smile to myself like an idiot and sip on this champagne.

__________________

Masterlist

#eleventh doctor x reader #doctor x reader #eleventh doctor x you #eleventh doctor #doctor who #doctor who imagine #doctor who fanfic #dw #fanfic #imagine

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winryofresembool · 3 years

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Things We Lost in the Fire, ch 23

aka Caleo uni au

Fic summary: Calypso starts studying at a new university, but to her annoyance her new flatmate is a loud mouthed mechanic who also likes to sneak his dog in whenever. But as she learns to know him better, she realizes they might have more in common than what she first thought. Eventually, even the darkest secrets come out…

Chapter summary: Halloween chapter, part 1.

A/N: This is the first part of possibly a long-ish Halloween 'arc' that is to come. I have to warn you that I only have 1 more chapter as a draft version and the said chapter is a mess and has caused me a lot of insecurities so... I'm not entirely sure how long it will take me to work through the issues that chapter has. I still hope I will have something to post next Friday! Please be patient with me, I promise I have every intention to continue and finish this story.

Thanks for all the lovely comments the previous chapter got! You guys are the best :) And keep them coming because that is literally the best reward I can get :)

Words: 3200+

Genre: romance & hurt/comfort

Warnings: none

previous chapter / AO3

...

“Hey Sunshine, you ready?” Leo asked her flatmate one November Friday as he was pulling his winter coat on in the hallway.

“In a minute!” Calypso yelled from her room. “Just… One final touch up!”

Leo checked his watch. “Okay, as long as it’s really a minute! You know Argo II isn’t waiting!”

“You do know that Argo II doesn’t have feelings, right? It’s a car,” his non-understanding flatmate argued.

“You better hope he didn’t hear that!” Leo protested. “He may just not turn on at all if you claim such things.”

“Oh my gods, Leo. Sometimes I wonder if you care about your machines more than people.”

Leo didn’t respond to that. To himself he mumbled. “At least I know how to fix them. And can’t hurt them.”

The flatmates were getting ready to leave for Jason and Piper’s late Halloween party. Most of the members of their friend group had been busy doing their own things on the real Halloween weekend but they had decided that they’d still want to have a small gathering at Jason and Piper’s house on a later date. Percy and Annabeth would be there, as well as Jason’s sister Thalia, her ‘friend’ Reyna, and Jason’s friend and a distant relative Nico. To Calypso Leo had told, that he had only met Nico a couple of times, because apparently Nico was a bit of a lonely soul and he wandered around the country doing who knows what. That fall, though, he had apparently met someone who had managed to keep him rooted to his home, so Leo suspected that there was a possibility that Nico really would show up this time.

Leo snapped out of his thoughts when Calypso’s door was pulled open, revealing the girl in her costume. His mouth opened involuntarily as he took her in. She was wearing a white chiton like dress with golden decorations around the neckline and accessories that matched the theme. Those included a golden headband and a belt, a bracelet made of real flowers, strappy leather sandals and since her own hair was short now, she had gotten a caramel colored wig that she had braided to one side, reminding Leo a lot of the hairstyle Calypso had had when she had moved in. She smiled at Leo shyly. “Well, what do you think?” She asked, lifting the hem of her dress slightly to show it off better.

“You’re… you’re…” Leo felt the words escape him again. With frustration he wondered how one person could do that to him. Leo Valdez never ran out of words.

“Calypso?” she tried to guess what he had wanted to say.

‘What?” He asked with confusion, unable to follow Calypso’s track of thoughts. In his mind he had answered her question ‘prettier than greek goddesses’ but he realized too late that she had meant that she was dressed up like the Calypso from the Greek mythology. “Oh, now I got it. Must have sniffed too much machine oil or something…Anyway, I see you have some self irony, dressing as your name sake.”

“That was kind of the point, Valdez. A girl named Calypso who studies Greek mythology? People comment on my name so often that I decided it’s time to make it clear that yes, I’m aware of that coincidence.”

“Ooh, the great revenge,” Leo chuckled. Suddenly he noticed that Calypso had turned more serious, her hands fiddling with her purse.

“Really, though, what do you think of this? I made this dress and these bracelets myself. And my mum gave me this before we moved here,” she pointed at her headband. “Apparently it’s something that’s been running in our family; my grandma wore it in her wedding picture and so on…”

“Oh… Well… that’s cool,” Leo said, mentally cursing the ‘error’ message on his brain. “You did a good job. I mean… I once saw a painting of Calypso in the Indianapolis Museum of Art and I think you look nothing like her… in a good way!”

“Aww, thank you.” Calypso seemed happily surprised about Leo’s comment, and he swore the expression made her even cuter. He also wondered if he should have a doctor check his heart because it seemed to do funny things in her presence...

“You’re welcome?” he replied stupidly.

“So, where is your costume?” Calypso asked curiously, apparently only now paying attention to the fact that he indeed wasn’t wearing one yet. “I thought you said we’re in a hurry.”

“I can’t drive in mine, it’s difficult to see from under it,” Leo explained, returning to his room to get a huge sports bag where he had packed his creation a bit earlier. He had spent several days making it and he was kind of proud of the final result. Although, seeing Calypso now, for a moment he still wondered if he had made a mistake with his costume choice, but it was too late to change his mind now. “I’ll put it on when we get there.” He gestured towards the bag.

“Okay,” Calypso nodded while changing her shoes into more fall suitable ones. “I’m looking forward to seeing what you have come up with.”

“Good, because it will blow your mind,” Leo claimed.

“I will refrain from forming any opinions before I see it,” Calypso noted, putting her keys into her pocket. “Now, come on, mister Mysterious, I hear Argo II isn’t very patient.”

Leo secretly loved it when Calypso attempted to joke back, and he grinned at her as he held the door open so she could leave first.

“Let’s go then, Sunshine.”

…

The drive to Jason and Piper took about 20 minutes so Leo and Calypso had a lot of time to talk about whatever came to their minds. At first Calypso gave Leo pretty short answers and he got worried that something was wrong between them again, but eventually Leo got her curious about the guests at the party that she hadn’t met yet.

“The Hunters are traveling a lot because of their competitions so I haven’t met Thalia that often. She’s a little bit scary, though. She has this edgy look going on and I’ve heard she is super strong; she’d ninja throw me on the floor before I’d have time to say Festus if given a chance. I’m trying very hard not to give her any reasons to do that.”

“Ouch. She sounds like something else,” Calypso said.

“She is,” Leo confirmed, almost getting chills only thinking about her. “She can be nice if you get to her good side, though.”

“Is it just me or does someone have a crush?” Calypso asked teasingly.

“What? No!” Leo exclaimed, glancing at Calypso’s reaction briefly. “Alright, maybe I used to have but that was when I didn’t know what was the best for me. But that was a long time ago. Besides, she’s totally dating someone even though they won’t admit it.” ‘And I wish I was dating someone else as well’, he thought, but left that unsaid.

“Oh? Will I get to meet that person today?” Calypso asked with curiosity.

“I think you will. From what I know Reyna’s always with Thalia. They claim they are only best friends but Jason has told me that they are keeping a low profile because it’s forbidden inside their team to date their teammates.”

“That sounds like a basis for a tragic love story,” Calypso said while staring out of the window with a dreamy expression. “I don’t even know these people but as a hopeless romantic I hope they will find some solution.”

Leo thought Calypso was very cute when she talked like that “Yeah. I hope.”

“So, do you know this Reyna personally?” she asked then, distracting Leo from his thoughts.

“You could say that,” Leo answered, trying to focus on the road instead of the girl next to him. “The team visits Waystation regularly because Jo and Emmie used to coach them back in the day and as a fellow Spanish speaker Reyna has always paid special attention to me. I swear, sometimes she treats me like I was his little brother…”

“Aww, that’s kind of sweet in my opinion. What is this team you were talking about, though? Did you say Hunters?”

“Oh, yep. The Artemis’ Hunters, named after the Greek goddess Artemis, naturally. It’s an archery group… Hey, is everything alright?”

Leo couldn’t help but notice that Calypso had shifted uncomfortably on her seat and adjusted her seatbelt a bit looser around her shoulder when he had said the name.

“Yeah. Don’t worry. I just… used to know someone who was in the Hunters as well, so I was surprised they have some connections here, that’s all.” Calypso turned her head to stare out of the window, sending Leo signals that he should drop the topic. He decided to push it a little bit further, though.

“You did? But you said ‘was’. Is she not in it anymore?”

“No,” Calypso shook her head, but didn’t elaborate.

“OK.” Leo sighed. A few moments earlier Calypso had been smiling and teasing him about some old crush and now she was acting cold again. Clearly the Hunters were a painful topic for her, but Leo couldn’t figure out why. Had something happened to the person Calypso had known? And why did she have to be so secretive? Leo wanted so badly to be able to help her and understand her, but when she was not opening up, it was very hard to do anything about it.

“Any guesses about what my costume may be?” He decided to change the topic. That seemed to cheer his flatmate up a bit.

Calypso closed her eyes while thinking, a tiny smile forming on her face. “Hmmm, I imagine it’s probably something flashy. But knowing you it could also be your work coveralls and working boots. I know how much you love those, after all.”

“It’s flashy, alright,” Leo said, his grin returning back to his face. “I’ll give you another hint: it’s a character from one of my favorite TV shows or movies.”

“You have a lot of those,” Calypso reminded him. “Ooh, now I know!! You’re Dalek! That’s why you would have a hard time seeing from under the costume.”

“No,” Leo shook his head, “But now that you say that, that would’ve been cool! Why didn’t you give me that idea earlier?”

“Because you already had an awesome idea? Or that’s at least the impression I got,” Calypso reminded him.

“Well, yeah. I still like my current idea. Maybe next time I’ll make a Dalek.” Leo had a goofy smile on his face as he imagined building a Dalek costume from the scratch.

“Sounds like a plan. So, will you reveal to me what you will be this time?” Calypso asked.

“Nah, you’ll see soon. Good things are worth waiting for, right?”

“Yeah, I guess so.” Calypso shrugged. “Although our opinions on what’s good tend to differ a bit based on our previous TV watching experiences.”

“Yeah, but that’s why it’s good we are flatmates. It’s good to broaden your horizons sometimes and learn about different things that other people like,” Leo pointed out.

“Maybe you’re right,” Calypso admitted. “But are you saying you have learned something from me? What could that be?”

“That olives taste bad? That sometimes Venusaur can be more useful than Charizard?”

“Not exactly what I was looking for, but I’ll take that.” Leo turned his head just enough to see a small smirk on Calypso’s face.

“I was just messing with you because I think you secretly like it,” Leo said with a grin. “But really, you have taught me a lot. That we shouldn’t let fears control the direction of our life. That Greek mythology is actually pretty fascinating even if tía Callida made it sound boring as hell, and we should all learn to understand different cultures better. And, you know? There’s no way we can know every single thing about someone else so we just need to learn to trust and give them a benefit of the doubt sometimes. And finally, I shouldn’t underestimate your Mario Kart skills.”

Calypso snorted at the last part. “Sometimes you do surprise me, Repair Boy. That was a good answer.”

“I can feel my reputation as the Bad Boy Supreme getting shattered to pieces. What about me, though? Have I taught you something?” Leo asked. If he was honest to himself, he didn’t want to know because what could he possibly teach to a smart girl like her?

“You taught me that chilis are evil and you should never eat them the way I did,” Calypso replied, and Leo was fully prepared for more teasing. But it never came.

“You have also shown me sometimes persistency can be a very good thing – otherwise we probably wouldn’t be friends now. We also shouldn’t judge a book by the cover – I’m just saying that when I first saw you I was kind of prejudiced… but since learning to know you better I realized I was wrong. And remember that time when Jo and Georgina were visiting us and you came home a bit late? Jo told me some stories about you before you arrived and that made me understand how far hard work can sometimes take us. You’ve come a long way… and while there are always things we can work on and improve, I think it’s important to be proud of the things we have already achieved, even when looking ahead.”

“Wow… those are some really nice things you just said there…” Leo stumbled to find the right words. Especially the last point had hit him hard because he had had a very hard time with his self esteem recently. He still didn’t know if he would be allowed to retake his lab test – and more importantly, if he was even capable of trying. That was just the tip of the iceberg; it definitely wouldn’t be the only time he would have to face his fear during his studies and later on in the work life, and he would eventually have to make the difficult decision whether it was worth going through. He did want to get over his fear, but with her own issues on her mind, he hadn’t wanted to ask her to help until the situation was better.

“Hey,” Calypso squeezed his knee gently and Leo was afraid he’d accidentally brake so fast they’d crash somewhere. Thankfully he managed to contain himself. “I know I nag and tease you sometimes, but I hope you know despite that I actually care about you and respect you for the things you do. I’m… glad you’re my flatmate.”

Leo was very thankful that it was dark in the car because he was positive that he was redder than a chili pepper. After swallowing hard, he managed to croak: “Yeah. Thanks. You’re pretty neat too.” “Pretty neat?” Calypso asked, cocking her eyebrow.

“Argh, sorry, you can’t expect a guy to be able to think straight after you tell them something like that!” Leo exclaimed. “But, uh, I mean, I think the same way. That it’s nice that you’re my flatmate.”

“Glad we have that established.” Calypso smiled at him. Again Leo wondered what it was about that smile that made his heart go crazy. He had had a couple of short term girlfriends before Calypso had moved in and even though he had liked them, there was something different about how Calypso made him feel. But now that Leo thought about it, he realized that for example Khione, his first girlfriend (who had turned out to be quite an ice queen in the end) had had a smile that had never quite reached her eyes and made him wonder what was truly going on in that head of hers. His second girlfriend, Echo, had been a sweet girl but something about her smile had said that she’d rather be free of relationship bonds. Leo thought that he had probably sensed that from pretty early on because it had been a smaller shock for him than his first break up. But Calypso’s smile? It made Leo want to see it over and over again, and instead of wanting something from him, it seemed to give him more energy. It made him feel restless, but in a positive way.

When Leo snapped out of his thoughts, he realized that Calypso was staring at him weirdly, as if he had been in his daze for a while.

“What?” he asked a bit nervously.

“You just completely missed my question,” Calypso stated, frowning a little.

Leo tried to shake his head to clear his mind a bit. “Sorry, I was just… remembering something. But what did you ask?”

“I asked if there’s any news from your professors about your studies. It’s been a while since you’ve said anything about that.”

Leo gulped. “Yeah. Right. Um, at the moment I’m continuing to attend the classes except the lab one. I guess I should ask the lab professor if he would still let me redo the test at some point. But the other problem is, I’m not sure if I can. You know, if I have it in me to get over my stupid fear.”

“It is not a stupid fear, Leo. You have your reasons. But I do believe that you can get over it. And I want to help you. We should start working on it soon, how about tomorrow or some time next week?”

“Tomorrow is fine to me.” Leo started tapping his fingers against the wheel, a sign of him feeling anxious about the topic. “I… really appreciate your help. Is there something I can do in return?”

“You already did!” Calypso said to his surprise.

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“Remember that flower shop you mentioned to me?” Calypso asked. “I guess I’ve been so busy this week that I forgot to mention this but it looks like I’m getting the job! The interview went well and the boss invited me to see how they make their flower arrangements and they even let me do this.” Calypso showed him her flower bracelet that had some small roses and several other flowers the names of which he didn’t know. “She will make her final decision on Monday but I might start working there already next week.”

“That’s awesome news! Congrats!” Leo said, genuinely happy for her.

“Thank you! And sorry I didn’t tell you earlier, it seems we have both been rather busy this week, I feel I’ve barely seen you…”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m glad I was useful for something! But look, that’s Jason and Piper’s place.” He nodded towards the building in front of them.

Leo looked from the corner of his eyes how Calypso would react to seeing the house. From what he knew Calypso hadn’t been there earlier; she and Piper had hung out more at their flat due to the closeness of the university. He wasn’t disappointed when he saw Calypso’s mouth open a bit.

“I know, pretty impressive.” Leo said.

“I have seen big houses before but this looks way nicer than the ones I know…” Calypso noted. Leo wanted to ask more about that but he knew that the friends were waiting so he decided to leave it for later. Once he had parked the car, some strange instinct told him to rest his hand on hers for a moment before he gestured to Calypso to step outside.

“After you.”

#caleo #leo valdez #calypso #heroes of olympus #percy jackson and the olympians #trials of apollo #my fics #caleo uni au

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ms-maj · 4 years

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For @bettycooper on the most fantastic day of her birth! [I maaaaay have been given a slight heads up since someone wouldn’t give up the goat ;)] Thank you for all the brilliant insights and beautiful gifs and for being one of the most considerate and chill people I’ve ever had the pleasure of working with. You give and give and give and I am very, very lucky to call you friend. Happiest birthday, Cat! I hope you enjoy! <3

‘Tis All Hallows Eve and throughout this great house

Dark creatures are stirring, go and hide little mouse.

Bats line the hallway, there’s cobwebs on the stair;

The veil is now lifting, the other side is just there.

Reach out and touch it, magic flows from your hands,

Fingers burn with the powers passed by time, through the sands.

Make notes in your grimoire as witches fly through the sky

We must ready our spirit, for Halloween is nigh…

“Isn’t your cousin in Prague?”

Betty looks up from her computer, the glasses she only wears when she’s been staring at the screen for an extended time sit on the edge of her nose. “What? Cousin?”

He’s waving the square of black cardstock in her direction as he shakes his head. “Your one, single cousin. The slightly over-the-top, heiress extraordinaire who has spent the last five years gallivanting across the globe.”

“And what about her?”

With an exaggerated sigh, Jughead drops next to her on the couch. Reaching over, he kisses her cheek before slotting the paper between her and the screen. “It would appear Hill House is done.”

Betty can’t help the snort that escapes her as she runs her fingers around the aged edge of the parchment. “I should say I’m surprised but, honestly, I mean, it’s Cheryl. Why wouldn’t she hand-write invitations to a soiree on the...’Hallowed Blossom Grounds’?”

Jughead is not wrong per se when he says the house is done. Thornhill has been under construction since Cheryl and Toni broke up, and she absconded from her second year of college. She made her way to Italy, where she stayed for a year before delving deeper into Europe; the art, the fashion, the architecture all appealed to her at a cellular level. Or that’s what she’d told Betty when asked about when she’d come home. (When the manor is restored or that vile harpy dies. Her words.)

He leans over and takes the invite back from her hands to re-read it. “Like either house there isn’t large enough to have this shindig, she has to be sure we plebs all know it’s the entirety of the property that we shall be partying on.”

Betty slides her glasses up to the bridge of her nose as she watches her boyfriend’s eyes roll. He leans back against the cushions, the hem of his t-shirt inching up ever so slightly. “At least we have an excuse to get dressed up this year,” she closes her laptop, sets it on the table and straddles him before he has a moment to realize what’s happening.

“And we can finally scratch the main house off our list—” The invitation flies from his fingertips and lands in the middle of the coffee table as his hands come down around her ass. He stands, wobbly as she laughs against his lips, and she’s carried to their bedroom. The costumes can wait another day.

Keep reading below or head on over to AO3

Betty’s proud, and a little relieved, when he comes back with the Addams. Though he refuses to wear pinstripes, much to her chagrin, she's quick to realize that plum, crushed velvet looks better on him than it has any right to.

Unfortunately, there hasn't been time to confer on much else. It’s been a busy few weeks. Betty’s been working non-stop; crime doesn’t stop for Halloween parties apparently, and her particular skill set always seems to be more needed in the periods just before and just after Halloween. She’s spent hours recently in front of both screen and microscope, scraping particulates into vials rather than getting ready for the ostentatious event.

And as much as Jughead has bitched and moaned about the lack of foresight in sending a group of traumatized twenty-somethings invitations in the same manner as a psychopath, he’s channeled a lot of that anxious downtime between conventions into ensuring his Gomez is true and pays proper homage to both John Astin and Raul Julia.

It makes for an incessant fluttering in her chest whenever she thinks of him. She finds it funny, the way he insists that it’s their friends who are the extra ones, but as they finally turn toward the mansion she sees the seventeen-year-old boy in him, the one who almost lost himself as the Game Master, and the beautiful, complex, eccentric man he’s become.

“I think that’s Archie’s car,” Jughead pulls their small SUV next to the blue sedan. The governor’s drive is filled, cars of all makes and models line both sides of the freshly poured asphalt. “At least we won’t be alone in the cesspool Cheryl considers a social circle.”

Betty takes one last look in the mirror before tossing strands of her silky, black wig over her shoulder and exiting the car. “And it's a beautiful night.”

Jughead hums in response and then, “This place gives me the heebs,” shuddering as the car doors click closed, the lock tone sounding terribly loud in the eerie stillness.

“You and me both,” Betty adjusts the hem of her billowing sleeve, the sleek black dress not giving her much room to breathe, let alone walk the entirety of the Blossom estate. She squares her shoulders, channeling the power and grandeur of befitting Morticia and slides her hand into that of her waiting boyfriend.

The foyer’s black marble floors gleam, shadows dancing in the flickering candlelight. The tables, four round with two on either side of the room and a long six-foot buffet table between them, are dressed in crisp white linens, centerpieces of crimson and black, and not a soul in sight.

“Hello?” Betty calls into the void. She’s answered only by the reverberation of her own voice. She looks to Jughead, sweeping the black strands of her wig from her face, she moves toward the tables. The two tables on her right are full of cut crystal flutes filled to the brim with golden champagne, the left is full of hors d'oeuvres, and sat perfectly center of the large table is a silver tray. On it, a parchment envelope with a red wax seal.

“Jesus,” Jughead exhales while retying the belt of his costume. “I knew Cheryl had a penchant for the dramatic but even this seems a little extreme.” Suddenly looking a little green around the gills, he swallows before speaking again. “Her mom isn’t…”

Betty turns around quickly and lays her palm against his cheek. “No, it’s not Penelope. I talked to Cheryl yesterday and she’s assured me that the bitch is still under lock and key."

"Good, she can rot."

"Should we just—” she twists back, reaching for the envelope but Jughead swats her hand away before it makes contact.

" Really? You're just gonna grab that, no glove, no napkin, just bare-handed in the home of a known poisoner?" He questions, eyes wide, hands grabbing at her waist and twirling her away from the table. “You’re an actual crime scene investigator, Betty. What are you doing?!”

“Jug, Juggie, I’m gonna need you to breathe,” she frames his face in her hands, tilting his head so his eyes met hers. Under the chandelier, his hair reflects the incandescent glow in it’s slicked parting. “It’s just Cheryl being Cheryl. It’s just a party,” her fingers curl and slide down his face, thumbs stopping on his chin. “I think she’s trying to reclaim this place for happier times and this is part of it. Make the bad good or something. I don’t actually know but I know she is in therapy and I guess this is just her convoluted way of working past the demons and ghosts.”

His head drops to the side, expression nonplussed, and he sighs. “Just, use a napkin, or something. I can’t help that my paranoia is bound to run rampant when things like Blossom and Gothic Horror Hellhouse are dropped back into the vernacular.”

Her heart breaks just a little as she wraps her arms around his neck. “I promise I will be more careful as we go along. I don’t know what Cheryl has in store but I imagine this is how she’s making use of the grounds.”

His hands haven’t moved from her waist, he simply tightens his grip and pulls her closer. “I’ll try to keep an open mind, and remember that this is actually for fun and not a ploy to murder us and our closest friends.”

“Atta boy,” Betty closes the gap between them, pressing her lips against his reassuringly. “Now, let’s get this party started.” She waggles her eyebrows excitedly, tossing the long black locks of her wig over her shoulder as she turns back toward the table. Jughead slouches behind her, his head resting on her shoulder, as her napkin covered hand reaches the envelope.

Sliding it back across the table cloth, Betty snags a knife from the appetizer table and slips it under the crimson seal.

Carefully, Betty uses the napkin to remove the parchment from the envelope and lays it out on the table. Jughead slides off her, moving closer to the table without actually touching anything.

His eyes squint as he tries to read the intricate script from so far away. “I can pick it up if you—”

“Because I’m sure you brought your glasses to the Halloween party?”

“Oh, my dearest, Gomez, where on Earth would I conceal glasses in this dress?”

She hears him suck in a breath and feels it, hot, on the shell of her ear. “Are we ticking this off the list first? We are all alone, Tish, you can be as loud as you want.”

Betty can feel the knock in her knees, the way her chest heaves at his tone and heat of his words. Her breath leaves in pants, short bursts of unadulterated lust she swallows down and tamps out. “You are incorrigible, Jones,” her voice drops to an even quieter tone. “And if I thought Cheryl and any of her other guests who’ve already completed their quests weren’t possibly watching, I would absolutely take you up on that.”

“Fair point,” Jughead sighs, straightening up and turning his attention back to the task at hand. As his eyes scan the words his hand comes up to scratch at the back of his neck. “Did she write these? Or did she actually pay someone? Because if she did, as a professional writer I am offended.”

Betty snorts a laugh and reads the text herself. “Oh Juggie, you are not wrong.”

Fortunately, Betty doesn’t think it’ll be too long before they get themselves through Cheryl’s finely woven tapestry of what she deems fun.

Welcome fiends, on this most holy of days

You’ve entered the first chamber and now you must play.

From this greatest hall to the haunted gallows

The path you take shall leave you hallowed

Once, full oak barrels lined its walls

But it’s been an age since the empire did fall

It has been told of spirits who wander

But you must come closer to set them asunder.

“I can’t believe this,” Jughead flicks at the padlock that’s keeping the man door closed, and them from their next set of instructions.

Betty rolls her eyes, reaching up under her hair in the back and pulling out an extra bobby pin she had used to help secure the long wig. “What kind of party would it be if I couldn’t show off the fruits of my questionable morality?”

She can barely see the pin as it disappears into the lock. The night is dark, cool, the crisp vein of fall’s majesty. The moon is full but the sky is overcast; clouds cover like sticky cobwebs blotting the light from the stars. “Mmm, I do love every shade of your gray.”

Her lips pucker and the sound of her air kiss carries loud enough for him to hear. There’s a click, the tumblers drop and the lock falls into her hand. The door swings open, a flickering incandescent light moves back and forth across the dank space. It stills, and light slowly starts to fill the barn before it starts to strobe slowly. Betty and Jughead step through the door to find another set of tables and several cages of varying size, all filled with all different types of corvids.

“Please tell me those things aren’t going to be released and we have to reenact Hitchcock before we can get the next clue, because honestly Betts, your cousin can fuck herself.”

“She wouldn’t dare. Cheryl knows perfectly well that I couldn’t run in this dress if my life depended on it.”

“And how do we know this is Cheryl? I mean, I know you said you talked to her about the party but this all just seems…”

Betty laughs. “Even more extra than usual? Understood. But that’s because, between you and me, I think she’s been missing home, and everyone, a lot, and she just wants to make sure in her patented Cheryl way that no one forgets her while she’s gone.”

She swears his eye roll is audible, because she can’t see him but knows implicitly that his eyes do indeed roll. “Why couldn’t she just hire a gourmet chef to cater? That would certainly be more endearing, and remember worthy, than having to trip the night horrific down memory lane.”

It's at this point, the birds, she realizes, are mostly fake. No, not fake fake. Taxidermied. Of course. “She’s still a Blossom, Jug. We internalized our traumas and turned them into our motivations, our tools to perform. Cheryl ran away, and now, the only way she can deal is to face everything head on. Take back the bad…”

“Make it good, right, right…” Jughead is muttering as his hand sweeps across his brow.

It’s been hard, Betty knows, to try and disassociate yourself from your familial legacy. Especially when said path leads you back to a level of depravity that you can barely wrap your head around. While she, like Jughead, have embraced their darker sides, it doesn’t mean that all the bad just disappears when you wake. His demons become characters in his books, their battles scratched out on napkins and receipts and any piece of paper that crosses his path when the inspiration strikes. He has bouts of anxiety that have to be quelled with medications, but some that breathing exercises and soft conversation will help to pass.

Betty knows it’s mostly been the combination of therapy and lack of downtime that have really helped to keep him from slipping off the edge.

“But in all seriousness, please, why did she call the elementary school and ask for third graders to write these clues?”

The space between them fills with the smell of apples and cinnamon, the small cloud from the vape pen lingers in the air. She takes the small black tube from his outstretched hand and holds it to her lips. Inhaling slowly, Betty lets the sweet, sticky intoxication take hold and inherently knows that Jughead is going to be kite-like in order to get through the night.

And she is five hundred percent okay with this.

The pen is back in his hands and at his mouth before she can exhale. Her words come out with a cough. “I actually think it was fifth graders. But the education standards in this county are seriously slipping. You should consider changing profession, I imagine most children would love to learn from such an encouraging and engaging critic.”

He snorts. “No fucking thank you. At least not, you know…” The pen is back in his pocket, his hand now scratching at the back of his neck, the slicked down hairs starting to stand under his ministrations. She reaches out and lays her hand over his and he sighs. “Maybe someday.”

Jughead slides their hands from his neck and holds her fingers to his lips before they drop and swing between them. “Until then Mr. Jones, I believe this ‘clue’ is all yours.”

Betty squeezes his hand before she steps out of his grasp; she’s looking for something to grab the awaiting envelope with. He crouches, eyes level with the sleek, black paper, fingers folding and interlocking in front of his face.

The lights strobe, flashes of wings and glinting steel catch her eye while she feels out the table. Her fingers catch the rim of a small, cut-crystal glass. She grabs the vessel and sniffs—smoke and peat—and throws back the contents in a single swig. It burns most pleasantly. Almost instantly a live crow caws, drawing her attention back to the task at hand.

She finds napkins, pushes a few up her sleeve for later and hands Jughead one so he can start the reading and direct them to their next locale.

He grabs the edge and hits the seal against the table, disrupting all the living birds who respond in discordant chaos. The paper slides from the envelope, and somehow, through the strobing lights and cacophony, he's able to read.

What is it that makes the Blossoms bloom?

The very thing that sealed their doom.

Planted soldiers, row by row

Did we reap of all we sowed?

Follow the pieces dropped from my bough

Into the circle, cast a Samhain spell.

“Did she have to go full on nightmare Wizard of Oz? A path through the maple grove? Wholly unnecessary.”

“Something about a tree, and it looking like something busted it out of it?” Betty stumbles, her heel catching on a root. Though she curses under her breath, she realizes it’s one of the very few Cheryl’s team had missed fixing while covering the entire path with the fallen leaves. (The rest she had incinerated, of course. The maple grove couldn’t look picturesque with all those leaves just laying in hodgepodge piles, after all.) She’s happy to see the tables set only a few yards away. “I was only half listening, but I remember her saying it was the perfect kind of creepy.”

He scoffs. “This whole place is the perfect kind of creepy. And if you knew all this nonsense was happening,” he turns toward her, thumbs hooked in the belt loops of the purple velvet smoking jacket, crooked mustache above a crooked smile, and looks her up and down. “Why the fuck would you wear those shoes? I mean, I’m not complaining because you look INSANELY hot but if you knew we were going to be walking over the palatial levels of acreage, then maybe—”

“True. All true. But would Morticia trade fashion for practicality? I think not, " Betty steadies herself at the main table, only slightly larger this time though still round, once again flanked by a beverage table (with a keg of cider it would appear) and another covered with small, apple tarts.

The night glows around them in all it’s autumnal splendor. Fairy lights wrap around the bases of the maple trees and twirl up through their branches. Pumpkins, some meticulously carved and others whole, fill the spaces between the trees, the tables, and line the path away from the grove.

Jughead seems to be enjoying himself, he’s at least not as tense as he was to start. His steps are lighter, he’s quicker with a smile, and he’s laughing with an ease that she hasn’t seen in far too long. The vape pen slips back into view and she smiles, but declines when he offers it. The scotch from their last stop is starting to slink in and much more inebriation will not serve her well. She picks up a glass and flips the tap on the cider, filling one for her and one for Jug, who takes it without preamble. Betty lets out a small sigh of relief when he sips the contents and doesn’t start to question the intentions behind it. In fact, he looks like he quite likes it. She starts sipping on her own, gags a little, and quickly places the cup back on the table, wishing she’d have downed more of the Islay deliciousness instead.

“This one is all you, m’lady,” Jughead tips back his cup before grabbing her discarded one and doing the same.

Her head shakes in mock annoyance. “Can you please try and maintain a modicum of sobriety? I’d like to make it to this party in one piece.”

A raised eyebrow meets her, followed by the click of the tap and the glug of liquid spilling into his cup. “I thought this was the party.”

She can hear the cider sloshing as he lifts the glass but it’s overwhelmed by the sharp hiss of her black, stiletto nails as they slice through the seal wax. “Only in your dreams.”

Her eyes scan the scrawl, pinching close briefly as she gets to the end. When she turns around to show Jughead he’s right there. She sucks in a breath and clutches the clue to her chest with a muttered Jesus.

He smiles devilishly. “You’re right about that,” his hands circle her hips and he pulls her flush. “In my dreams it is most definitely only you and me. But we’re not doing any of this.”

“Oh, what are we doing?” she asks breathless.

His head dips and he leans toward her, stopping just shy of their lips meeting. She squeaks out his name, a petulant whine, but he does not acquiesce. “I think you know exactly what we’re doing in my dreams,” Jughead digs the tips of his fingers into the flesh of her waist, the palor from the makeup looking particularly ghoulish in the din. “But more than that, even though the thought, and promise if I’m not mistaken, are most tempting. It’s just that when it’s you and me I know everything is going to be okay. That no matter how dark or cold the night you’ve always got my back.”

Betty shivers almost as if on cue, tears burning at her eyes, she reaches out quickly and grabs his face. While the paper flutters to the ground, her thumbs run up the sharp cut of his cheekbones before her lips crash into his. They have more than enough time to spare, she thinks. Besides, she knows exactly where they’re going next.

Your next adventure you needn’t enter

But prepare to face a greater task

For the next clue will not be at the ready

And there shan’t be a soul around to ask.

Follow these pumpkins

Keep close the light

Only two more remain, dear friends,

To make it through the night.

Thistlehouse was the big bad. She knew it the way he reached for her hand as its impressive visage rose from behind the treeline.

He’d only been back a handful of times, and only because his Toni had threatened his personage, so when she and Cheryl had broken up he swore up and down that he wouldn’t go back if he could help it. Yet here they were. She had assured him it would be different, that they were different, that there was nothing they weren’t in control of.

And control was most assuredly something he liked.

So she relented: the color of their bedroom, their sheet thread count, his preferred costumes (not that she put up a fight about being Mortica Addams). Once agreed upon, he dove right into the original series, watched every film iteration, studied cosplays; she watched as he got carried away by the sheer drama of it all. Jughead, she was aware, couldn’t help but love himself some drama. She recognized, quite quickly, that he had the same vim for creating their narrative, the same kind of spark that emerged when he switched from writing novels to creating graphic novels.

Betty remembers watching as that switch flipped inside of him, the magnitude of feelings when he saw his words start being represented by an artist. Then the elation of being beholden to filling those intensely rendered scenes with the words that conveyed all the expressed feelings, and did them justice.

She sees the way his eyes light up every time he mentions a storyboard, hears the excitement in his voice when his characters come to life, when they transfer from paper to corporeal and feel real and tangible in his hands. She wants to be a part of that for the rest of her life.

She shivers, pulling at the tightest section of her sleeves and tries to cover more of her arms with the taut fabric. Wordlessly, his arm slips around her waist, pulling her close to his warm body.

Sometimes, on the nights when the heaviest thoughts pervade her mind, and she starts spiraling through all the things she should have done differently, he does the same thing. Gathers her in his arms, whispers all the things he loves about her into her hair.

It's the hours (days, months, lifetimes) of listening, of shared experiences, of perspective that propelled them together and held them there. After a brief, albeit necessary step back the summer following their graduation, they came back together stronger and more committed than before. And it's sustained them these last eight years.

"What are you thinking?" His lips ghost across her temple as the tables come into view.

She smiles, lacing her fingers through his and pulling them to her mouth. Betty kisses his knuckles and nuzzles closer. "Just how lucky I am to have you."

"The feeling is very, very mutual, " he leans down and is met with a sweet kiss. She feels a tug on the hand wrapped around his. The moment they separate she's spun away, the wide hem of her dress flaring around her. She lets out a laugh and Jughead starts twirling her, spinning them through a sloppy tango toward their objective.

It's been too long since they've been this carefree, that deadlines and court dates and conventions and lab work have become their normal. They try not to allow them to take precedence in their lives though, try to ensure the living, breathing, real people always, always come first but some days that’s harder work than others.

They dizzily bump into the drinks, glasses clinking off one another as they spill onto the tablecloth. This only makes the laughter come more freeky. They take the libations, toast one another and drink down what Jughead hopes is the last vestige of maple rum in existence.

While he ravages the snack table, Betty reaches for the last envelope with shaky hands.

One more trek awaits, before your final stop

Please take this chariot, you've done nothing but walk

Follow the lights, you'll be lead right to us

To cold to enjoy it, though to look is a must

You may not believe it, but heed these words true

Your life may very well change down by the pool.

The golf cart whirrs to a stop just before Thornhill’s swimming pool. Betty turns it off and steps out, the light emanating from the thousands of cream colored candles that line the far side reflects and dances on the still surface. Candelabras from three to ten feet tall, tea lights, chandeliers, votives, pillars; you name it, that candle had a place surrounding the dark water.

“Do you think Cheryl spent more on candles than we did on the down payment for our house?” Jughead muses coming to stand beside her, elbow jut out in invitation. Betty smiles softly when her arm slots through the space. She grips tightly, her cheek coming to rest on his bicep.

“I think Cheryl probably spends more than that on even stranger things, on a daily basis,” they laugh low, content to be close, aware that their blissful solitude will soon cease. It’s just ahead—the white canvas tent marks the end of their path.

Betty’s heels echo with each step. She can’t tell if it’s as loud as it sounds in her head but reverberation seems to stutter with her pulse. The table that seemed to loom so far in the distance is mere steps ahead. This time, a gold tray rests dead center atop the crisp, clean linen, the final black envelope lies just within its confines. There are two, blood-red flutes on either side, waiting for the final clue to be read.

Without pause, Jughead reaches for it. “It’s blank.” He waves the card in front of him. Betty watches his fingers slide over the parchment, flipping it between them and examining it before the flame.

She swallows, stepping back. “I’m afraid you won’t find your answer there.”

His head turns before his body, the expression inscrutable. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m saying there’s nothing there. No hidden message writ with heat sensitive ink. No impressions traceable with charcoal.”

Her hands shake but there’s nothing she can do to stop them. He’s facing her now, cardstock forgotten it falls to the ground. “Betty, you promised,” his voice thick with the kind of worry that constricts all the pieces of her heart.

“I promised you would be safe. That we would be safe. And we are! There is not one part of this night that I haven’t carefully cultivated to make this an enjoyable experience,” she worries her lip between her bottom teeth when he looks away from her.

“Why? What is all this about?”

“Trust me, I know. Why would I do this? Set all this up and make you relive one of the collective worst nights of our life?”

His head swings back to her, expression screaming DUH, with the severe angle of his brows and the depth of the creases that have formed there. His arms cross over his chest as he waits for her to continue.

“I know I can't fix all the bad. But this one thing I wanted back, for the both of us. I want you to be able to go to escape rooms, or watch murder mysteries, or get surprises without triggering your PTSD. I want you to be able to stop looking over your shoulder, every minute of every day. I know how hard you work to get through, but I don’t just want you to have to put on a brave face and breathe through all those fear responses. And believe me, I’m aware that this is not a cure or therapy or anything more than me trying to reclaim something awful with something beautiful.”

She steps in front of him, bright green eyes wide and shining with unshed tears. She explains that she knows how much he loves Clue but can’t play it because sometimes it takes him to a place where he’s Mr. Body and everyone around is trying to simultaneously kill him and solve his murder, and he’s the only person in history who can say that’s too much like real life. And she hates that. Hates that he has to channel so much of that pain and anger and anxiety into characters in fictions, even though she knows it’s one of his healthier coping mechanisms. Hates that even with all the therapy and medication and love in their lives that his pain underscores so, so much of him.

“I really do love Clue,” he sniffles, tears forming in his eyes.

Betty laughs, taking his hands in her own. “I know you do. And I just want you to be able to enjoy everything, and I know I can’t make everything right. That’s not possible nor is it my job. But what I can do, is be by your side, be with you on those days when the thoughts are too heavy and you need help carrying them,” she let’s go of a shaky breath, hoping the mermaid skirt doesn’t fail her as she carefully kneels on the blanket that’s laid out next to the sparkling water.

“Betty,” his voice trembles like she knows hers will.

She releases his hand for just a moment, sliding a final, velvet envelope from the sleeve of her gown. “Forsythe. Pendleton. Jones. The Third.” Betty peels back a fold with each of his names that pass her lips. On the square sits a ring, mahogany, with a braided birch inlay, lined with soft, gleaming willow. “Jughead. The person who knows me best. Who has seen all the bad, who knows exactly who I am and what I’m capable of, and doesn’t just love me in spite of it, but because of it. You have given so much of yourself to keep the people you love safe. The huge heart, and compassion and forgiveness know no bound. And when I was young and dumb I tested the bounds of your empathy and love and risked everything because I was afraid. Because loving you was so easy and so all-encompassing I thought something had to be wrong. But the only thing wrong was me and you somehow loved me still. Your love has always been a tether, this undeserved filament that's kept me from floating into the ether."

Betty pauses to breathe, laughing though her tears, and picks the shiny wood ring up between her dark, matte nails. Their eyes meet in the excessive candlelight and Betty is infinitely thankful for waterproof mascara. “I am grateful that you stood by me. Helped me

The hand she holds trembles as she slides the ring to his finger. "If I could form a coherent thought...I would." This time he laughs with her.

"Whaddya say, Jones? Make an honest woman of me?" The ring buttresses against his hand, the pale braid of birch almost silver in the moonlight. “Marry me, Jones.” She whispers into the night.

“For the record,” his arm slides down her forearm and grasps around her elbow. She’s on her feet, level with him before she knows she’s even standing. “Yes.” His lips crash into hers, bodies practically melding into one as her fingers twine through his hair, disrupting the slick without a single care.

The lights from the main house flash on, music erupting from hidden speakers and suddenly life is breathed back into their hushed, reverent silence.

"Does everyone in there know?" He practically pants once they break apart.

"You can't think I did any of this on my own right? You're the creative and I'm, " she sighs, her fingers twirl in the hair at the nape of his neck. "The luckiest human in the world."

He leans in again though this time they're both distracted by the sound of people moving toward them. He practically whines, "Now we're never going to check Thornhill off our list."

Betty smiles devilishly, her red painted lips twist and press ever so slightly against the shell of his ear. "Oh, did I not mention Cheryl has graciously offered an entire wing so that we may properly celebrate our engagement?" His eyes go wide while over his shoulder their friends all step into view. "Save the enthusiasm for later, you can show me just how happy you are as soon as we're congratulated by five hundred of our closest friends."

His eyes narrow and fix. "We stay for two hours, anyone who doesn't fit into that time frame clearly doesn't matter. And then you show me to our room, and I prove to you, over and over and over again that this is the best night of my life."

They don’t last an hour.

#bughead #bughead fanfic #bughead fanfiction #betty cooper x jughead jones #for cat

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bcdrawsandwrites · 4 years

Text

Here’s a random, unpolished oneshot I wrote on a whim. Features the alebrije character Pizzicato, whom you’ll recognize if you’ve seen some of my other works.

In which Héctor winds up with an unfortunate nickname, and Gustavo learns why you don’t make comments about Héctor’s wife.

(Warning for some inappropriate comments from some of the characters.)

---~~~---

Héctor paused to lean his head against the cool metal handrail again, trying in vain to relieve the burning ache in his head. Shutting his eyes to block out the overcast sky ahead, he gripped the rail a moment longer, grateful they had actually bothered to install one on these stairs. (It was a rarity to have railings of any sort in the Land of the Dead, when one couldn't really die from a fall, but some buildings did have them, whether out of newly-dead contractors building them out of habit or from the insistence of people sticking to tradition.) After a minute, he heard a sleepy chirp from the tiny bat alebrije hanging off the back of his collar, and pulled himself away, forcing himself up a few more stairs.

He'd stop drinking one of these days, he promised himself. When he found a reason to quit, anyway.

Memories from the night before swam indistinctly in his mind as he continued to mount the stairs. He'd been working in the arts district, as usual, and had taken up some local musicians on an offer for drinking. While music was something he tried to avoid these days, the musicians had seemed friendly enough, and as much as he loved Pizzicato, talking with an alebrije tended to get a bit one-sided at times. Pizzicato hadn't exactly been thrilled with his joining them, he recalled, but the temptation of just... normal human interaction had been too strong to resist.

Might've been nice if the cerveza and tequila hadn't been too hard to resist, though.

Shaking his head (and then regretting it a second later when the world tipped), Héctor finally reached the top of the stairs, practically collapsing through the open window. Pizzicato gave a sleepy squeak in protest before snuggling back into his collar—he wasn't entirely sure why she was like that, other than that it probably had something to do with whatever happened the night prior. Leading him home while he was in a drunken daze, maybe.

"I was half-tempted to pull the stairs back up on you," Ceci muttered around the pins she held in her teeth. She didn't look up from her work, focused entirely on the dress hung on the mannequin before her. "What were you doing, sightseeing?"

"Buenas dias to you too," Héctor grumbled, pulling himself up to his feet and brushing off his hopelessly dirty jacket.

Ceci did give him a look, then, eying him over her shoulder. "Buenas tardes."

"Buenas tar... oh." He scratched the back of his head, blinking blearily. "Sorry. Lost track of time."

"Hopefully you didn't lose track of that delivery I sent you off with," she went on, resuming work on the dress.

"Oh, no no no, that's... that's all taken care of." Rubbing his hand over his eye sockets, he strained to remember yesterday. That memory was a bit clearer, at least—he definitely remembered the weird look the customer gave him when he handed him the package, and the lack of a tip. "I got it to them, no worries."

"Good."

He stood there awkwardly, hand on his wrist, as Ceci continued to work on the dress in relative silence (other than the record player running in the background—Héctor wasn't really paying attention to what it was playing, only grateful that it wasn't another de la Cruz album). Briefly he wondered if she'd forgotten he was there, and he pointed his finger to speak.

"If you're looking for another job," she began—Héctor flinched, the sudden volume sending a spike of pain through his head—"the dancers left a mess out in the gallery after their practice last night. The art crew won't clean it because they say it's not their mess, but they're still whining about the glitter getting into their paints." She paused. "And on the materials," she added, brushing something shimmering from the hem of the dress.

"Ah, g-gracias," Héctor stammered, passing through the designer's workshop and out into the main studio. At once he was greeted with the familiar sight of the hastily set-up barriers separating the work spaces of different artists. Many of them were lined with various paintings and sketches, but as Ceci had said, some of them were dusted in glitter. Frowning, he stepped up to one painting of a xolo dog, swiping his finger across the canvas to remove a few flecks of glitter... and yelped when some of the gray pigment came off with it, smearing on the painting. With a hasty glance aside, he wiped his hand off on the inside of his coat and speedily walked away, looking in the opposite direction of the painting.

"Okay, okay, glitter, glitter..." Head turned downward, he found scatterings of the stuff on the floor, and then looked up again. "Ah... I need a... uh... mop? No, no... broom? Dustpan?" He glanced over his shoulder, hoping Pizzicato might be of some use, but only heard a high-pitched snoring. Cute, but not helpful at the moment. Sighing, he looked to the walls of the studio, hoping one of the janitors may have left their equipment there, but no luck—only rows of outlandish costumes. Ugh... where was the janitor's closet, again?

Héctor poked his head into the entrance to one of the partitions, raising a finger and opening his mouth to ask, only to find several very, very tired artists and a skeleton posing nude for them. Clapping his hand over his eye sockets, he stumbled away. "Okay, okay, bad idea, do not ask the artists," he muttered, uncovering his face just in time to dodge another artist hurrying by with a large canvas. Looking around to make sure he wasn't about to collide with anyone else, he continued his aimless journey through the cluttered gallery. "Ask the... uh..."

The sound of laughter caught his metaphorical ears, and Héctor looked toward the far end of the studio, by the glass windows. They were still out of sight, but he was pretty sure he knew who was hanging out there.

His suspicions were confirmed by the sound of a trombone making a long, drawn-out note, followed by more laughter. "Right... ask... the musicians," he said, nodding to himself as he approached them.

As they came into sight, one of them spotted him and hastily shushed the others. That was... a little weird, but he was honestly too tired to care right now. He would've given them a sharp whistle to catch their attention, but was afraid of the noise only worsening his headache, and besides, they seemed to all be looking at him anyway. "Hola," he said, waving casually with one hand as he rubbed his head in the other.

"Ey, Héctor!" one of the violinists—what was his name, Héctor knew his name... Gustavo, that was it—said with a grin. "You doin' okay there?"

"Ehh... I've been better," Héctor said, making an effort to straighten his stance. It took a bit more effort than usual, but with the condition of his bones, what didn't these days? "Just... a bit too much to drink last night, I think."

"We could tell!" One of the musicians began to snicker, only to be elbowed in the ribs by another.

Héctor blinked. "Right. I just needed to ask a favor—"

"A favor?" one of the other violinists asked, while a few of her peers chuckled next to her. The noise seemed to be bugging Pizzicato, who stirred behind him, whining.

"Yes?" His bewilderment seemed to prompt a few more laughs that the musicians tried to cover. "Is... something funny about that?" he asked, briefly looking over his shoulder and wondering if his alebrije was doing something behind him to prompt the laughter.

"No, no," Gustavo said, waving his head. "Go on, what favor do you need?"

"I... just need someone to show me where the supply closet is. Ceci—"

The group immediately burst into laughter, the trombonist accompanying it with ridiculous playing. The sound was like a dagger being driven into his skull, and he held his hands over his head. "Ay, stop it!" he cried, staring at them in utter confusion. "What's so funny?!"

Finally Pizzicato seemed to be roused from her slumber, and he felt her little claws digging into his wig as she climbed up to the top of his head, squeaking in displeasure.

"Who do you want to meet in the closet, eh?" one of the musicians jeered.

"¿Qué?" Héctor blurted. He couldn't make any sense of what they were talking about. Whatever it was, Pizzicato seemed upset by it, letting out a growl, but he couldn't make heads or tails of it. "I don't... meet? I'm just trying to—"

"Not one of the girls, that's for sure!" the female violinist added, causing the others to laugh harder.

"I... uh?" That made nothing any clearer, and Héctor was feeling increasingly lost. It would make more sense if the group were just a bunch of cackling hyena alebrijes in disguise. But one thing was becoming clear—whatever they were laughing about, it was at his expense. But what would they...

A sudden panic bolted up his spine, and Héctor whipped around, yanking his alebrije off of his head. "Pizzicato," he whispered desperately, clutching the bat close to his face. "What exactly did I say last night?"

Of course Pizzicato could not answer, only staring up at him apologetically. But his question had apparently not been as quiet as he'd hoped, as Gustavo spoke up behind him: "Oh, nothing too important... chorizo."

The word was punctuated with a few ridiculous notes from the trombonist, and Héctor let go of the alebrije, turning back around to face them again. "C-chorizo?" he repeated. What did that have to do with...?

"Chorizo!" one of the other band members shouted, with a few others echoing it between laughs. Still none of that cleared it up, until another went on: "What a way to go!"

What a way to... oh. Right, that was how he'd... Was that what had happened last night? He'd rambled about how he'd died? That's what was making them laugh like deranged hyenas?

His chest burned in indignation. "W-well I'm sure the way you all died wasn't much better!" he said, gesturing at the group.

"Sure it was!" Gustavo said, getting close enough to elbow Héctor in the side. "Better than choking on a chorizo!"

"What?!" Héctor stepped back, hands up defensively. "That wasn't—! It was bad, I got food poisoning!"

"Sure you did, chorizo!"

He found himself staring at them as they continued to laugh, wondering why the difference even mattered, whether he died by food poisoning or choking on—

Oh.

...Oh.

His cheek bones burned furiously, and he turned away again, covering his face. "That was not what happened," he grumbled into his hands. Not that it would convince them. Pizzicato fluttered around nearby, squeaking angrily at the group, but he tried to wave her off. "Basta—all right, you've had your laugh. Very funny. Now could you just show me where the supply—"

"Ey, didn't you say you were married, too?" Gustavo asked, one brow raised, and the inside of Héctor's rib cage was suddenly burning in anger. "Did she know about—"

The shock of anger traveled quickly from Héctor's heart to his fist.

Next thing he knew, Gustavo was staggering back, supported by the trombonist while the other musicians gave ooooohs of both sympathy and interest. A small part of Héctor regretted the action, but the rest of him didn't care, and his fist remained clenched.

Stupid jokes were one thing, but to even dare to suggest infidelity...

"What's your problem, man?" Gustavo cried, rubbing his jaw where he'd been struck. "Can't you take a—"

Before he could finish, Pizzicato buzzed in front of the group, letting out a terrible, high-pitched shriek that left all of them shrinking back, including Héctor. The noise magnified his headache, nearly blinding him, and he staggered back, blurting out a curse. Immediately the noise stopped, but he was already storming away, eyes narrowed against the ringing in his skull. "Forget it, I'm done," he snarled. "Ceci or whoever can clean the place themselves."

Pizzicato was fluttering after him, squeaking an apology, but Héctor did not slow his pace. He couldn't find the stupid broom, but he knew very well where the exit was—a different one from the fire escape ladder in Ceci's room. Unfortunately, while he left Gustavo and his stupid group behind, the anger and humiliation followed him out of the studio, clinging to his bones. He punched the metal railing of the stairs in an attempt to rid himself of the emotions, but it only resulted in a shock of pain traveling up his arm.

Finally Pizzicato caught up to him, landing on his head and squeaking in concern. "You know," he muttered, narrowing his eyes against the light as he stepped outside, "I'm starting to hate musicians."

His alebrije whined, but said nothing more.

She didn't need to remind him.

#hector rivera #gustavo #coco #pixar coco #coco spoilers #my writing #fanfic #the musicians' dialogue was not particularly enjoyable to write #but it was necessary for the subject matter

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stuckasmain · 4 years

Text

I still don’t think your ready for it, but here’s my Batb Cruise show review:

Yes you read the title completely right, I was made aware of this a day or two ago but apparently one of the Disney Cruises is doing/did beauty and the beast the musical but based upon the live action movie. So naturally a massive fan of the live action I was both shocked and wildly confused, lucky for me I found a video on the entire performance(likely taken from a cruise tv.) from what I skimmed over it looks like instead of full body suits to look like they are it’s going to be regular (human outfits.) and then puppets, so I am Really really interested to see how this goes.

The timing is a little off we skip the prologue (Aria etc.) and start straight in How does a moment last forever... are they placing Belle after it? It was before in the movie. Wait oh my god he’s also narrator- it is the prologue! Pulled a sneaky one on ya.

•Adams dramatic sassy hand movements are my entire life (no dance just this art right here.)

•The enchantress looks straight outa Atlantis but I LOVE the effects used omllll

• MARIE THE BAGUETTES.

•who needs her when you’ve got us (LE DUO OMG- it’s the thing.)

•from what I’m seeing it’s a combination of both the animated and live action, as some lyrics/moments are the animated , like Lefou reverted back to his original sorta idiot phase.

•met HER saw HER *kick* we stan.

•Lefou just waving his bag in the girls face. Legend lmao.

•a LOT more comedy then the movie. When Gaston drops the Boquet Lefou picks it up and smells it and just melts all cute like. My heart?

•”keep moving old legs.”

•Gaston is also a lot more like the animated, more dumbed down for comedic effect.

•so there’s no Philippe so some dudes took her dads wagon. That’s how jumanji started you know smh.

•PUPPETS IM SCREAMING.

Lumire looks like he’s absolutely losing his mind I’m deadddd. Also Cogsworth’s wig is my entire life.

• ok so the beasts voice- he sounds like a Pirate I’m crying “ee stole me rose matey.”

•belle straight up using the stick like a musket

•OML SO I NOW SEE THE EYES ON THE PUPPET AND IM LOSING MY DAMN MIND.

•storage space! Storage space! For all of Lumiere’s shoes! His shoes yes he had a feel large collection of shoes- he rather likes Heels-

Cogsworth.

What?

Stop talking.

•while my love massages my tight caves.

I’ll massage your caves Gaston!

Who has no one snatched you up yet? (He didn’t say girl :0)

•everyones awed and inspired by au

Gaston placing a hand to his chest.

•Gaston kissing his own portait, no bimbettes Lefou sings their line, no Tom , Dick or stanley that I can see either

•they all start russian dancing instead of the stopping/sword fight. Weird flex but ok.

Now the girls are... is that the cancan?

•Fun cult activity’s with friends

•lefou dreamily gasping over gaston along with the women.

•WHERED THE UKALELE COME FROM?!

• they kept my favorite line :)

•So Gaston has the French flag now? Also Maurice runs in automatically? Damn there goes pacing i guess- like aren’t they supposed to be together for at least awhile before going after her jeez

•why’s every single woman in this show use a super high pitched cutesy voice “YeAaA!” Is the audience one year olds and dogs???

•Gaston was a captain :0 Damn high rank.

•or a Budae *laughing* *distant roar* *s c r e a m *

•Madame de Garderobe has me screaming lmaoooo

•Mrs.Potts was a governess? Wack.

•ok so I cant describe the noise i made

L: OH YES! Darling

P: high pitched giggling.

The stage is still black and I can’t breathe-

They were definitely- whatever the equivalent would be of making out

•This plan is uh Dangerous~

I’m-I’m gay for the featherduster. This is not allowed. THEY ARE SO CUTE I CANNOT FUNCTION.

*more adorable couple giggling*

Cogsworth coughing

•food fashion show.. I cannot... I can’t function.

•Lumiere being dramatic:

Coggsworth: if i had hands, I’d slap you.

•*Whispers*Skin.

That’s- that’s not creepy at all lmao.

C’Est LA SALADE I CANT BREATHE WHATS HAPPENING.

•you lost me 2 verses ago now there’s cheese

•no one:

Plumette giggling and calling out everything:

•HOW IS MADAME DOWNSTAIRS IM SO CONFUSED

•OWWWWWWWWEWWWWWWWWWWW.

That hurts.

•ok so Mrs. Potts being a governess in this version now makes sense as she’s the one to start days in the sun instead of the queen/little Adam

•So Candenza is completely gone from this version????? So Lumierè and Plumette get both love lines from the song. Their still busy being cute as hell tho. (Does this imply their also singers? Pretty sure their still just footman/maid.)

•cogsworth now has Mrs.Potts lines but his voice is great.

•instead of soup it’s tea he I N H A L E and belle looks SO done lmao. Also no library?

•oh jeez yea no library just straight into something there.

•oh so the library is now IN something there, alright.

•Adam just DECKS Lumiere. Idk what that was about lmao - showing he’s nice now by uppercutting a candlestick across the room.

• BELLE:D this dork-

•Hes making jokes now.

•SWORDS. FIGHTING.

•”we love you.” But... everyone is still all-

Ok so either Mrs.Potts is a massive liar or they don’t count

•the dress is low key just as underwhelming as in the film

• Adam is trying *SHOVES CHAMPAGNE IN FACE*

•Plumette keeps running on and off stage idk what that’s about.

•the danceeeee

•Adam keeps talking about his mom

•no evermore ;-; my favorite song and it’s gone for a 5 second day’s in the sun reprise.

I’m wounded.

•belle casually taking a dudes knife to cut them free

•I feel like the mob song is cute down a lot, also Lumiere comes in sliding on his knees. Respect.

•”Gaston help.” Is kinda like nothing now as they have been so comedic. I feel nothing.

•i like the way they executed the final fight (beast/Gaston as servents vs the villages was literally nothing.)

•Lumiere sliding in on his knees again *French accent*YAAAAAAS

•ok so the death scene still hurts me like a truck.

Lumire: guys we did it :)

*literally watches the love of his life, his best friend and other friends die(yes it’s technically death.)*

Everyone steps away from the puppet and turns around, the lighting goes dark I’m - ;-;

•the prince is low key better in the suit the guy playing him is uhhhhhhhh I know the whole point is to look past Appearance but who’s dad is this?

•I’m absolutely SCREAMING. Instead of the dramatic one by one they all pop up together and collectively go :00000 what?! Whoa!

•Lumiere and Plumette low key not even a “hi.” Just kiss and start dancing. Mood.

•Ballet attack part 2 and middle aged prince returns.

•No chip or Madame at the end either! :0

•oh wait here’s chip!

Cogsworth melting in the background is me

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬/𝐏𝗼𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐚𝐥𝐬

so as I’ve said it’s like a mash up of the original and the remake with some of the choices it makes, I think it really makes or breaks some of the characters.

Lefou/Gaston-

Both of them fell back more into their Cartoon counterparts of : here to be the bad guy, here to be funny. Both of them become so overly comedic that you wouldn’t be able to tell who’s line was whos if you were shown them without being told. I think , funny as they were it negatively effected their character’s. Same case with the beast he definitely became more comedic if anything at all.

Lumierè/Cogsworth/Plumette-

These guys I think are the opposite. I think having a slight bit more of the animated made both banter and flirting hike it’s way up. Cogsworth and Lumierè were more showy in their banter , while Lumierè and Plumette were much more loud and showy with banter. Also the accents are art. Mrs. Potts was there to be the mother like figure and not given much of herself

Rip to chip who had like 4 lines and didn’t even show up to seconds before curtain. Also Madame de Garderobe who was there to be a good singer and nothing more as she lost her whole arc.Rip to Cadenza, Frou frou , Chapu and Philippe for being written out all together.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬/𝐭𝐡𝗼𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬

As I’ve said the changes either make or break some moments, like adding a overwhelming amount of comedy like the og movie. As funny as it was it did not have that same weight/gravity the remake did in its more serious/emotional scenes like the death/human again scenes I felt little here and Gaston betraying Lefou. As well as having the more serious/soft songs as the remake really backfired with so much comedy, and not even the more Witty subtle humor of the movie. Funny, but odd as character choice

So I know you had to cut it down a lot in order to fit it on stage however, nessisary parts or songs (evermore ;-;) were completely excluded likely do to the slightly unessisary over extension of dance numbers in Gaston(that didn’t need it) and Be our guest. Which could have been time better spent.

The servants are the absolute saving grace of this musical. The costumes! Oh!(again cogsworths wig is my life.) the humor! The acting, the singing, the relationships- all of it- all of it. They carry the entire thing, and if I’m honest it’s mainly Lumierè, Cogsworth and Plumette, occasionally Mrs. Potts if you stretch.

#batb 2017 #beauty and the beast 2017 #disney cruise #disney cruise show????#buckle up bitches #la salde #this was meant to have photos forgive me im lazy

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shapeshiftinterest · 4 years

Text

This Could Be Us But You Playin': badgermao & shadow badgermao (CH 1)

set after fright wig

the sheriff’s department didn’t defeat their shadow versions but still made peace with the king

because the king doesn’t have those fears anymore, the shadow sheriff’s department stopped attacking but didn’t disappear

now all 6 of them are staying at HQ, either until honey and camille come up with a solution, or until they possibly go away on their own (like a timed thing)

big thank you to @daarin-nekoneko‘s tags on THIS shadow badgermao doodle I did, I used one of them as the title for this fic!

story under the read more

This Could Be Us But You Playin' (also on ao3)

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4

“So, uh. What’re we gonna do with these guys again?“

Badgerclops leaned back in his chair to look through the kitchen doorway, their shadow counterparts sitting on the couch and snickering(?) at something on TV.

It was kind of hard to tell since they didn’t really talk.

The two sheriff’s departments had been evenly matched during their musical number battle, so the original trio had resorted to locking themselves in the harpsichord room with the king.

After talking it out and solving the midnight mirror problem, they’d opened the door to discover the shadow sheriff’s department just hanging around.

Apparently once the king stopped being afraid of their opinions they’d lost interest in fighting their doubles.

The only problem now was that no one knew how to get rid of them.

And so the sheriff’s department decided to bring them to HQ until something could be done.

Mao shrugged and took a long sip from his Lucky Ducky mug.

“Camille and Honey said they’d work on a way to get rid of them since blasting the king a second was deemed ‘unethical‘,” he air quoted, “and we can’t finish them off ourselves.”

“Uuuugghhh this is so weird!“ Badgerclops groaned, using his robo arm to snag a bag of Cheddar Paws from the cabinet.

Only to find the door already open and a different robo arm quickly retreating into the living room.

“HEY!!“

He rushed out of his seat just in time to see Shadowclops offering the bag to his couch companion, their own face covered in crumbs, already munching on the handful they'd taken.

“What the heck man, those were mine!“ Badgerclops stomped over to the couch and jabbed Shadowclops’ chest.

“Um, actually those are mine?“ Mao said tapping his foot. He crossed his arms and raised a brow at the other.

Badgerclops glanced behind him.

“Whatever man, you know what I mean.“

Shadowclops looked down at the claw pushing into his chest before narrowing their eye and glaring at Badgerclops, shoulders hunching like they were about to square up.

Until Shadow Mao leaned over to put a hand on their partner’s robo arm, closing their eyes and shaking their head.

They turned to Badgerclops and offered the Cheddar Paws, gesturing to the other side of the couch and ‘smiling’.

Badgerclops eyed the bag for a few seconds before taking it and sitting on the far right cushion.

“... fine, but only cuz you didn’t eat them all.“ he grumbled.

Mao rolled his eyes and went to sit in-between the Badgerclops’ but it was a tight squeeze.

“Badgerclops, move over. I wanna watch Kento Ken too.“ he said, digging his elbow into the other’s side.

“Dude, quit it. This is as far as I can go, why don’t you move over?“ He smacked Mao’s hand away and elbowed him back.

“I can’t, that’s why you should do it!”

“No, you!“

At this point they were jostling the whole couch trying to get each other to make some space, until Mao was shoved a little too hard and bumped into Shadowclops.

He’d almost fallen off if it wasn’t for them wrapping an arm around his middle and dragging him back into a sitting position.

“Oops, sorry Mao.“ Badgerclops said sheepishly, picking up a few of the Cheddar Paws that’d dropped onto the carpet and going back to the kitchen for more snacks.

Meanwhile, feeling a little uncomfortable, Mao scrambled out of the shadow person’s grip.

He looked over to see that Shadow Mao had moved from their seat on the far left cushion to sit in Shadowclops’ lap, and was currently nuzzling their face against their co-hero’s chest.

Mao was sure that if the shadows could make a sound, his counterpart would be purring, loudly.

It was a little weird to see their dopplegangers being so affectionate, but it wasn’t like Mao had never purred whenever he or Badgerclops had been overly stressed when they’d been on the road.

Shadow him was probably just doing that to help his friend because they couldn’t go back to wherever they came from yet.

Yup! Totally normal platonic friend purring due to immense stress.

Badgerclops returned with a ton of snacks and drinks for the Kento Ken marathon that they were apparently gonna watch now.

He paused for a second at the shadow duo but then just shrugged and scooched Mao over so he could sit down.

Adorabat and Shadowbat had flown in halfway though one of the episodes, both almost completely covered in paint.

The two deputies stole a few juice pouches and pretzels before Adorabat went to the bedroom, calling down that they could share her bunk.

Shadowbat gave her guardians a hug, zooming into the dojo to retrieve the rest of the art supplies and flying after their friend.

Mao must’ve fallen asleep, because the next thing he knew he was lying partially on top of Badgerclops. His friend was also asleep, and seemed to have shifted to lie on his back, snoring away with Mao’s cape splayed over both of them.

He turned to check on their shadowy counterparts.

Only to freeze at the sight of them... well it was hard to see, but judging from the light coming from the TV it looked like they were making out.

Huh.

Guess this was happening.

...

NOT!

Mao pushed off the cushy stomach under him and leapt onto the back of the couch, throwing a shuriken at the light switch and startling the shadow creatures.

Badgerclops flailed awake and fell off the couch.

“What the hell, Mao?!“

“YOU!“ he yelled, pointing at the couple. “Cease your canoodling at once!“

“Man, what are you talking abo- woah!“

Badgerclops had finally noticed the other two.

Shadowclops was gripping his partner’s hips, holding them steady since they were leaning back a little to look at the other frazzled sheriff.

The darker hero was still in his lap, one arm slung around the badger’s neck and the other digging their claws into his tool belt.

Shadow Mao tilted their head at the sheriff, as if to say ‘what of it?’.

Mao sporadically waved his free arm, the other on Geraldine’s sheath.

“PDA isn’t allowed here!” he spluttered.

Shadow Mao quirked a brow at him, letting go of his boyfriend’s tool belt and holding up a finger before gesturing around them.

‘One, we‘re not in public.’

This time he held up two fingers before waving that hand over himself and Shadowclops.

‘Two, nothing we‘re doing can really be called lewd or exposing.’

He then slumped against Shadowclops, resting his head on their chest and lightly bumping them in the chin.

The taller of the two moved their hands to rest on the cat’s lower back and started rubbing their thumbs in little circles.

Shadow Mao rumbled, closing their eyes in bliss.

Mao was 10 seconds away from going off on them again, probably something about upholding order and personal boundaries or whatever, Badgerclops could feel it.

So before that could happen, he got up and dusted himself off before slinging his angry friend over his shoulder and heading upstairs.

“Wh- Hey! Badgerclops put me down!!“

“Dude! Get off your high horse. They’re just having fun.”

Mao wriggled a bit but was too tired from his movie nap and previous yelling to do much.

“This won’t bring chaos, aawww shooshooshooshoosh.” Badgerclops started petting his ears back, the repetitive motion and shushing sounds made Mao’s eyes feel heavy.

The last thing he saw was Shadow Mao ‘grinning’ at him smugly from the couch.

Mao glared at them, giving out a half-hearted hiss before grumbling and burying his head in Badgerclops’ shoulder.

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scottishoctopus · 4 years

Text

Not So Heartless After All.

Chapter 6: The Aftermath.

Warning!

*Implied past child abuse and mature language included in this chapter!*

~ ~ ~

"And I thought the Darkened Thorn was indestructible."

A relaxed voice mumbled to themselves. A voice belonging to a man who was stood by watching the crew of the Darkened Thorn climb abroad his ship, the Poison Grail. They all looked to be shaking terribly, probably from spending too much time either trying to find land or attempting to get passing ships to notice them. They seemed to be starving too, as their faces were pale as a ghost and their bodies looked thin. They must of spent maybe a couple of days on the boats that they had evacuated to, the man assumed as he watched the scene unfold before him.

The tall man appeared to be a Privateer, as he was dressed in a navy blue uniform with a golden trim lining his long coat and wrists, the front of his coat was patterned with yet more gold lining. This man certainly gave off a sense of authority and nobility around him with his sense of style.

He wore a crimson red vest on top of his pristine white undershirt, though you could barely see that as his coat was buttoned up tight so he could keep as much warmth as possible from the cold breeze from the ocean. Strapped at his waist was an elegant sword, the handle made out of bronze and silver that were decorated with black and golden stripes. Certainly a work of art and luxury made by an extremely skilled blacksmith.

On top of his head was also a navy hat but was decorated with beautiful angelic feathers on top. His face was young and smooth, looking to be in his early thirties. He had jet black hair neatly hidden underneath his hat, and had brown eyes shining with disapproval. He had no desire to wear a wig like so many that he sailed with, he liked having his hair out in the open blowing with the gentle wind.

His elegant stance shifted slightly as he spotted the captain of the Darkened Thorn, well not a captain anymore so to speak. Justin Daniels turned to face the man, and his furious expression that was on his rat-like face had softened slightly as he approached him. Transforming into annoyance.

"Lachlan Houghton, I must thank you for aiding me for once in your life." Justin sarcastically greeted, not showing any gratitude for his saviour as he crossed his arms together like a bratty child and stepped in front of the man, who rolled his eyes in response.

He had dealt with this man before.

Many times.

"That is Privateer Houghton, Mister Daniels. I honestly hoped I wouldn't have to be in a situation like this." Lachlan corrected Justin, putting a stern emphasis on his title and moving his hands together behind his back, pale fingers connecting with each other. Justin immediately frowned with jealousy at the response, eyes gleaming with hate as his fingers around his elbows dug into his damp clothing.

"And that is Captain Daniels." Justin quickly replied. Nearly cutting off the man mid sentence. Replicating the same stern manner that Lachlan had just done now except with a dark smile that was wanting to rise onto his wrinkled face.

"I don't see your ship, captain." The Privateer calmly smiled back, pretending to look over Justin's shoulder as if he was searching for the Darkened Thorn. The smile that was growing on Justin's face had vanished in an instant, and Lachlan could swore that the dark brown eyes on the older man's face had twitched in disgust.

"So, Cutler Beckett decided to promote you and give you a new ship then? After your foolish move in the Bahamas." Justin spat, completely ignoring the reply like it had never happened, examining Lachlan's neat state and the uniform he proudly wore. The captain of the Darkened Thorn was rather in a messy state, some how he had lost the wig and hat he wore on his head and now his blond grey hair was untidy and wet strands of it stuck to his wrinkled forehead. Making him look like he had been involved in an intense bar fight on Tortuga.

"Were it not for my...foolish move, those diseased pirates would of sunk your ship and you along with it. I managed to drive those filth off the islands when I rescued you." Lachlan firmly replied, a large trace of boredom in his sentence.

"I was handling the situation."

"It did not look like that from my point of view."

Lachlan had known Justin for a number of unfortunate years. And never did he find anyone so big headed and selfish like Justin. The two were almost always giving each other glares when they were in a room together, and were certainly always trying to piss off the other. Not only that, but they had always wanted the position to be next to Beckett as it was a very rewarding job and they would be in command of multiple other ships. Both men wanted the upper hand, and were willing to fight each other to the death if that opportunity would ever happen.

"Did you have any casualties?" Lachlan questioned and glanced at the crew members of the Darkened Thorn. One of the men just wouldn't move, even if somebody had tried to get him to his feet. He was sat down against the railing. Staring at the floor. One would immediately think that the man had no life in his eyes. He looked pretty familiar in Lachlan's eyes, but wasn't able to properly recognise him as two other crew members had stepped in front of the sitting man and unintentionally blocked the sight of him from Lachlan.

"Only a few insignificant men. That doesn't matter though. Are you headed to Port Royal?" Justin demanded and caught Lachlan's attention once more. The Privateer angrily frowned at the uncaring dismissal of the lives that were unfortunately lost, mouth twitching into a subtle snarl.

"Indeed I am. Cutler Beckett is going to assign me to a important task." He took great pleasure in the fact that Justin furrowed his brows and gritted his teeth together once again. Yet another jealous expression now fixed on Justin's face. Cutler Beckett hadn't spoken or mentioned an important task, he had only some vital news to share to his work partner. Lachlan just enjoyed seeing the jealously on Justin's rat-like face.

"And what task would that be?"

"It's not your concern, so I don't know why you must insist on sticking your head in." The crew members of the sunken ship instantly turned their pale faces towards Lachlan in deathly shock, their jaws dropping almost to the deck and their expressions on their faces looked like they were screaming, without voices, to tell him to cease talking immediately.

As far as Lachlan knew, it was never a good idea to be angering this man. But he didn't fear him, he had met people that would make anyone's knees buckle in fright and he was much more taller than Justin anyway. He had joyfully angered this man multiple times before, although definitely not in front of the nearby men that served Justin.

Justin immediately became bright red in the face, his hands transforming into tight fists that were both threatening to connect with the Privateer's soft face. Lachlan could imagine steam hissing out the man's like a boiling contraption. The man had surprisingly held that urge back however, and took a step backwards. Giving the Privateer one last glare, he marched angrily out of sight, his fists held steadily at the sides of his body. It seemed like Justin didn't want to make a scene today which Lachlan was thankful for.

The young man sighed and rubbed his forehead. He was slightly relieved that he didn't get another bloody nose from Justin again, that had happened too many times to count and Lachlan was surprised that he hadn't gotten a crooked nose so far.

Turning his eyes to the still man on the floor nearby, he began to walk towards the sat figure and eventually he finally recognised him to be the first mate on the Darkened Thorn.

Spencer.

They had met a couple times in the past before, only when Lachlan was unfortunately stationed upon Justin's ship by Cutler Beckett's order. But he found that he was quite respectful of the first mate, always wondering how he could cope for many years with the most obnoxious person that had ever sailed the seas.

Lachlan made his way over to the still form of Spencer, two of his crew members silently moving aside from the sitting man who they had unsuccessfully tried to see what was possibly wrong with him. His oak brown eyes gazed at Spencer for a brief moment before turning towards the men standing beside him.

"I will take it from here. Continue with your duties, you two." Lachlan assured them, and they quickly nodded and walked off with a determined pace, hurrying back to their work.

"Spencer?" The jet black haired man crouched down to his level and placed his right hand on the left of the silent man's shoulder. Spencer blinked a couple of times, his emerald eyes full of confusion and horror. His head darted around the ship, apparently he hadn't realised where he was sat. His panicked state calmed when his eyes had focused on Lachlan now, he held his face in his hands, rubbing at his eyes and forehead.

"How about we head on into my quarters and you can tell me what has happened?" Lachlan offered and Spencer's intense stare mostly looked relieved now, as if he wasn't expecting him to say that. He nodded carefully and used the railing as support to pull himself to his feet. Lachlan gave him a small smile and led Spencer into the captain's cabin.

The room was spotless and pretty large, as if it reflected Lachlan himself. With the many books on the shelves all neatly arranged alphabetically, all written about myths and sea creatures. The man had a fascination with the ocean life, even having a painting of a beautiful sunset with magnificent colours of blues complimenting the sea hung right next to the doors.

There was a large wooden desk in front of the windows, with neatly stacked papers with a paper weight holding the stack down. There was a vintage tea set on a tray opposite the papers, seeming to be made from perhaps Japan. The porcelain was a simple charcoal but decorated with Japanese flowers and patterns, there was only four tea cups but was in the same style.

Next to the desk and sat in the corner of the quarters, was an extremely gigantic painted portrait of Lachlan himself, stood high and mighty on top of his ship. And around him was multiple burning vessels in front of a town full of life and greenery. The painting depicted the day where Lachlan had managed to drive the terrified pirates from one of the islands in the Bahamas that they attempted to invade. Lachlan found that to be one of his most important achievements in his life so far and decided that it should be painted with him in it too.

He was inspired to do just that after one time when he was having tea with his superior and friend Cutler Beckett. The man had shown a painting of himself proudly standing upon a large globe with the East India Trading Company flag flowing right behind him. Cutler Beckett had shared the name of the person who had painted the masterpiece and Lachlan eventually contacted the artist and kindly asked if he could paint a similar picture, but of course of that day Lachlan had imprinted in his mind.

Resting by the papers, was a sleeping cat with it's fur dark as the deepest night. Lachlan firmly believed that having a cat abroad a ship meant good luck so long as the pet was well fed and looked after. The cat was named after Lachlan's father who was Thomas Houghton, certainly a common name for a cat but Lachlan couldn't care less about an unimportant deed such as naming a animal.

Many of his work partners, for example Justin, had joked at his belief, commenting that it was only superstition and that pets didn't belong on ships, but Lachlan ignored them. Whether or whether not the myth was real, he enjoyed having such an adorable creature abroad his ship.

Lachlan guided the suffering man to a soft seat in front of the desk, letting him sit down in it. Spencer held his head in his hands and rubbed at his forehead. He looked exhausted, and Lachlan wondered why his eyes looked so puffy and bright red. He obviously had been crying for a while, but what for?

Because of the deaths? Maybe Spencer was quite close to his crew members and that was why he looked so heartbroken, Lachlan had wondered.

Instead of seating himself in his chair that was tucked into his desk, Lachlan leaned against it as if he was almost sitting on the top of it. He rested his hands on the wooden surface on both his sides and stared hard at Spencer.

"Now, what happened then?" He questioned.

Spencer took a few minutes to reply, extremely silent but Lachlan was certainly not impatient. He wasn't going to sigh and roll his eyes whilst tapping his foot against the floor like a disappointed parent irritated at their misbehaving child, nor tap his fingers against the desk behind him. Lachlan would give all the time Spencer needed to reply, Spencer looked rugged and seemed as all the life in his eyes had vanished like a corpse.

Spencer slowly looked up, a tired sigh escaping his throat as he removed his trembling fingers from his face and placed them on his knees.

"T- The ship crashed into some rocks, we were in a storm and we couldn't see any land or ships," He managed to mutter, although it sounded more like a whisper. As if he was reliving the event through his eyes right at this very minute, his emerald eyes looked haunted as he stuttered his words.

"We evacuated everyone to the boats, but..." Spencer attempted to explain, his voice quiet and sounding like it could break at any moment, and then suddenly stopped as his eyes widened slightly like he had seen somebody get shot right in front of him. His skin looked pale now, as if he was nauseous, sea sick.

"His niece. She...she didn't make it." Spencer looked as if he had a lump in his throat as he tried his hardest to not break down in tears. His eyes were glistening and his hands were beginning to shiver like he was standing out in the cold without any warm clothing on. As soon as he mentioned the niece of Justin Daniels, he immediately lowered his head and closed his eyes. Lachlan noticed that Spencer was trying to fight the urge of crying, and he immediately came closer to the suffering man and placed a comforting hand on the man's shoulder.

Lachlan had briefly seen the niece of Justin that one time where he was ordered to stay upon the Darkened Thorn. He had noticed her one time below deck with a young boy around her age who was passing her a slice of bread for her to eat. Lachlan didn't know much about her but she seemed very quiet and he rarely ever saw her above deck which was certainly strange. He then had assumed that she probably didn't like being abroad ships so she spent her time below deck then.

He could never really have the time to know much about her. She was most likely like her uncle anyway, irritating and insufferable. Of course, Lachlan immediately regretted to have thought of that just now. As no child should of have to perish so early in their life.

"That is...unfortunate. How did it happen?" Lachlan further asked, desperately hoping at least she didn't have to go through a most painful death. He loathed it when children had unfortunately died. Even if they were stubborn or selfish, they could change into a much better person when they got older as the years went by, children like them could of had a second chance at life.

"Captain Daniels ordered for us to leave her on the ship." Spencer instantly spat at the question, immediately after Lachlan had finished talking.

The Privateer felt confused now with the reply. He knew Justin could be cold blooded and harsher than most people but was he capable of such a sick act as leaving his niece abroad his sinking ship? Lachlan didn't want to believe that but Justin was a very horrid person so maybe he could of done that.

"That doesn't make any sense, I thought he loved her--" Lachlan began but was cut off by Spencer quickly staring at him with his emerald eyes and opening his mouth to speak.

"He abused her." His eyes were dark now, eyes glistening with tears and his hands trembling with anger now. All trace of sadness disappeared as he revealed his words with no shaky voice now. Lachlan's eyes widened in shock at the revelation. He wanted to say something back but his voice had gone silent and he closed his mouth shut.

Lachlan stood himself up and removed his and from Spencer's shoulder, the man's words were repeating over and over in his head as he tried to let them sink in.

He didn't think Justin was that far gone.

All that time Lachlan was stationed upon the Darkened Thorn and Justin's niece was probably being kicked and spat upon below the wooden floors of the ship. And he didn't know those sickening events was occurring right below his feet? It would explain when he caught a glimpse of her, she had sunken eyes and swollen cheeks. He just assumed she was possibly sick with a disease or that she simply didn't enjoy sailing.

Lachlan sighed and turned back towards Spencer, his brown eyes full of sympathy for him. The first mate must of been close to her for him to be feeling this way.

"I offer my condolences. But at least she is now finally free." Lachlan apologised, his voice mildly broken as he lowered his head towards the floor as if he were paying respect to a deceased person buried in a grave.

"Free?" Spencer immediately stood up from his seat, nearly tipping over the chair by how fast he got back on his feet. Lachlan's eyebrows raised to the point of not returning as he met Spencer's intense stare. His eyes were dark as Justin's, and his voice now angered, as if Lachlan had intentionally insulted him. The Privateer knew he wasn't the best for coming to for advice but he definitely knew he wasn't that bad at giving it.

"What do you mean by that?" Spencer demanded as he approached Lachlan with an intense march. All traces that he was grieving had disappeared like a flick of a hand, now there was only fury as he got up close to Lachlan. The man took a step backwards as he nearly stood in front of him, chests nearly touching. Lachlan felt like Justin was stood intimidatingly before him right now, but it wasn't Justin. It was Spencer, and he had never seen this man look so provoked before!

"I did not mean to anger you, I was apologising for your loss--" Lachlan attempted to explain calmly but Spencer had yet again cut him off. Lachlan really hated it when people did that.

"Bullshit, what did you mean by that?" Spencer snapped with another demand, Lachlan raised his hands up like a child who was caught stealing a piece of fruit, wanting to show that he didn't mean any harm by his words. Spencer backed off slightly but he continued to be furious with the Privateer, his fingers gripping the palms of both hands.

"What I meant is that she has gone through much horror and sadness but now she is finally free of that, and she can live on happily in the afterlife." Lachlan expressed, really hoping that the first mate could see that he didn't mean to provoke him. He made sure that he had a honest expression on his face. Lachlan attempted to place his hand on Spencer's shoulder so that it would make comfort but the man brushed it off. The fury in the man's eyes had softened and was beginning to shine with yet more tears.

"This wasn't supposed to happen!" He croaked out, his voice entirely now broken now. "I was going to leave that bastard Justin, and take her with me so she could have a better life, a proper life!" Spencer rubbed his right arm across his nose and puffy cheeks, removing trails of tears that leaked from his eyes.

"She never deserved to be whipped at, beaten at, burned or- or- or..." Spencer struggled to speak any further as his emotions became heavy and full of heartbreak. He couldn't stand any longer, his legs wobbling and dropped to his knees like life had defeated him and took everything he once had. Beginning to sob and hold his head in his hands. Lachlan quickly lowered to his level and pulled the crying man into a comforting hug, placing a hand on his moving head and the other softly on the man's back. His cries were muffled now as he buried his face in the Privateer's chest, Lachlan could feel his coat becoming damp now.

"I could of saved her! She's dead because of me! It's my fault!" Spencer bawled and hit his hand against Lachlan's chest as if he didn't want to be in this position right now. His body moved with his sobs and attempted to move out of Lachlan's grip but failed as Lachlan held him back. Spencer eventually calmed down by holding the man's arms tightly like he was holding onto dear life. He was overwhelmed with emotions and all Lachlan could do was hold the suffering man against him.

~ ~ ~

Spencer could hear sobbing. And he immediately panicked as he stumbled down the stairs and followed the soft crying. A pit grew in his stomach and he could taste bile in his throat as a horrid smell reached his nose, a smell that had told him that skin had been burnt. He rushed throughout the deck, the sickening smell becoming stronger now. Eventually turning a corner to see a red haired child lying on the ground with her knees tucked in her chest. Her shirt missing and lay tossed on the wooden floor nearby, exposing her pale sickly flesh.

Her back was horrifically covered with red fiery welts that trailed from her ribs and upwards on her spine. There were not so visible white streaks across her back, certainly scars from past injuries. The red welts look like they had been marked with a belt, as there was a purple imprint of something that was shaped as a buckle embedded in the child's skin.

The young girl was softly whimpering, her exposed back facing Spencer, she looked as if she was holding something in her arms but the first mate couldn't see what it was. He rushed over to her and crouched down to the small malnourished child, seeing that she was trying as best as she could to cover as much of her body as possible. Her left arm hiding her right from the man's sight.

Her eyes were scrunched tight, tears uncontrollably falling freely down her dirty cheeks.

Spencer felt his heart beginning to snap in two as he covered his mouth in horror, silencing a gasp of shock as he tried to process what the actual hell had happened to her. He knew instantly that it was Justin. There was no doubt about it. The person who did this to her was him, and only him. Although this time, it appeared that he was much more violent in the punishment.

Spencer had unfortunately been forced to go off duty much to his continuing protests involving a family matter, and hadn't been upon the Darkened Thorn in only two days. And this was what he came back to?!

Only two days and all hell broke loose!

He had thought that the cabin boy, Michael Stephenson had took over caring for her! He loved her as much as Spencer did. Now that he had thought of him, the first mate hadn't seen the boy since he stepped back on the ship.

Where was he?

"Child? It's me, Spencer," The man gently placed his hand on top of her small head and she slowly opened her eyes. As if she was frightened to even open them. Her teal blue eyes were wide and full of terror, tears still falling freely from the corners of her eyes. Her breathing was mostly full of convulsive gasps as it took a few moments for her to recognise Spencer at last.

"It's alright, it's me, Spencer." He repeated again. He hoped that she didn't feel betrayed by his leaving the other day. Spencer told her that he was being forced to leave only for a few days, so he was praying that she hadn't forgotten. His heart always dropped to the abyss when her expression was full of betrayal and that she had felt lied to, like he had broken his promise of returning to her.

The child softly nodded, using her left arm to quickly rub away her tears, instantly covering her right again before Spencer had the chance to examine it.

"W- welcome back, s- sir." She greeted with a failed attempt of looking like she was glad or pleased with his return. Spencer shook his head and gently stroked the side the red haired girl's face softly. Offering a small smile to her.

"How many times must I have to tell you that you don't need to call me sir?" He asked but instantly regretted it as his voice sounded annoyed slightly. She didn't seem to feel anything by his hand on her face, she just frowned and attempted to lift herself into a sitting position. Spencer immediately helped her, being careful to not touch any of her sore and injured marks on her flesh. The child winced slightly but there was no sign of her discomfort.

"I'm sorry." She apologised quietly, almost whispering, still not meeting Spencer's sympathetic gaze. He was really worried by how much she was really trying to cover up her right arm from his sight. He could still smell the burning flesh and was convinced that it was coming from her.

"You don't need to apologise for anything. You haven't done anything wrong." Spencer insisted, and this time she actually did connect her eyes to him now and she smiled. It was a small smile, but for the first time in a while Spencer could see some life in her cheeks. He desperately didn't want to let that smile leave for possibly the last time, but he knew that he had to take a look at her arm to see what Justin had done to her.

"May I see your arm, child? Please?" Spencer softly asked as the smile unfortunately fell from her thin face and she immediately looked back to the floor. Glancing at her right arm with guilt and disappointment. The child hesitated for a couple moments but slowly moved her left arm that covered the right. Spencer had nearly fainted by the sight of it, the stench of burnt flesh was stronger than ever now.

Marked, below her hand and on her forearm was a large "P" branded into her flesh. It was burning to the touch as Spencer carefully examined it with the tip of his fingers. The child's entire arm was a horrific red, swelling around the mark. The "P" was bleeding slightly and leaking down the curves of her thin arm.

Spencer had to hold his mouth again in utter disgust. Justin had branded her as a pirate! His own niece! But why?!

"Uncle says that the P means that I am a parasite," The child softly smiled again, as if she wasn't bothered by the fact that Justin had scarred her skin with a letter that was given only to vile and dishonest men! Either that or she had just naturally accepted it as the next form of punishment for her if she didn't fulfill Justin's orders.

"Why did he do this to you?" Spencer coldly questioned, trying to hold back his fury so that he wouldn't upset the small girl. He wanted to pounce on Justin, to rip his throat out with his own teeth like a lunatic!

"Michael was trying to help me into a boat in the night," She explained, covering up her right arm again like before. "It was my fault we got caught by Uncle. And then he put this on me as punishment." She finished with a frown entirely full of regret. Her eyes looking like a little lost puppy.

Spencer felt panic invade him again, as well as confusion as the child looked painfully at the floor. If Michael wasn't here, then that meant...

"What happened to the boy?" Spencer's eyebrows raised, and his fingers dug into his palms. He was prepared for the worst. The child looked sorrowful and dejected, closing her eyes once more as if she was trying to recall what had happened. Her teal blue eyes opened after one silent minute had passed, and her expression changed to despair.

"Uncle threw him off the ship..."

Spencer immediately got up to his feet, fiery fury consuming him as he suddenly swung a tightly closed fist at the wooden wall. He roared in rage and the child quickly turned her head way from him. Shutting her eyes and flinching when she heard his hand make contact with the wall.

The first mate was pissed. Livid. Exasperated as he thought of Justin. His heart was beating rapidly with anger, he had enough.

Justin had beaten this child too much for Spencer to handle and now he had basically sentenced another child to death by throwing the boy off the ship! He couldn't let this terror and sin happen any longer, he might lose his sanity he lived this way! Spencer was going to save her like he had planned with Michael, take her far away from Justin's hands and wrath and love her like he were her father.

Spencer turned back to her and approached the red haired child again, she was shivering and he felt regret for scaring her. She most likely thought he was going to hurt her just then. Reaching into his coat, he brought out half of a loaf of bread and held it in his hands for her to take.

"Here eat this, child. I am sorry." She carefully moved her head back towards him and her teal blue eyes gazed at it with a smile that had shown no emotion. No delight. She hesitated to take it at first, drawing back her left hand a couple times. But she finally did take it, and brought the bread up to her lips. Taking a small bite and chewing it slowly.

There was still no pleasure upon her face and that disappointed Spencer, but he knew it wasn't going to be that easy to successfully heal her and get the past behind them.

"I am going to get you out of here, child. I will not let anything happen to you ever again." He vowed and sat down next to her, stroking her head and making sure that she was properly eating. The red haired girl didn't react to his words and continued to take small bites, a heartbreaking frown on her lips.

And by this, Spencer knew that she didn't believe him. And that made his heart grow cold with misery.

~ ~ ~

It was probably ten minutes that had passed as Spencer's cries had eventually silenced, though his head was still buried in Lachlan's chest. Lachlan's knees felt numb by the time Spencer had finished, but he knew that the man was distraught and was likely not to recover from it for a while now.

Thomas, who had awakened earlier prior to the shouting, had jumped off the desk and sat right next to Spencer. His furry little head resting on the man's knees, the cat seemed to sense Spencer's despair and Lachlan was grateful for the cat to come over. Spencer sniffed and let go of the Privateer whilst he also removed his own hands from the man's arms, rubbing his fingers at his eyes and wiping the remaining tears away. His eyes still looked puffy as he held his head, he likely had a headache now, Lachlan had thought.

"You should get some rest, Spencer. There should be a hammock down below for you to take." Lachlan offered, standing up and helping the first mate to his feet. Spencer had silently nodded in return, heading towards the door so he could leave. He paused before opening it.

"Thank you."

Lachlan nodded his head towards Spencer, a gentle smile rising on the Privateer's face as he watched Spencer exit the quarters. Turning away, he was about to pick up Thomas so that he could place him upon the desk when he heard the door open again. There was a voice quietly muttering. "Excuse me, sorry." Before footsteps were heard, and the first mate abroad Lachlan's ship, the Poison Grail, Aaron had entered.

He was a young man in his early twenties, dressed in a navy uniform with golden trims, typical with anyone who worked for the East India Trading Company. He wore a white wig like many others.

"Sir. We have arrived at Port Royal at last!" Aaron divulged with a relieved smile. He seemed to be pretty pleased that they had finally gotten to their destination. Lachlan wondered if it had anything to do with Justin on board his ship.

Nevertheless, Lachlan smiled and followed his first mate out from his quarters, Thomas trotting excitedly behind him.

~ ~ ~

The Poison Grail was heading towards the peaceful and beautiful town of Port Royal, the view of the life coming closer as the ship was sailing to it.

Lachlan stepped out of his quarters, holding the door open for his cat to follow. He instantly frowned when he spotted Justin Daniels leaning on the railing of his ship, his expression full of delight as he had finally arrived at his destination. The Privateer was quickly angered by the awful smile on Justin's face as he was reminded of the harsh things he had done in the past, but kept calm. Focusing his stare on the growing town nearby.

Walking up close to the railing, he smirked with joy as he spotted the HMS Endeavour floating in the town nearby. He knew it was Cutler Beckett's ship from the brown and golden wood that kept the ship together.

The Poison Grail was quite similar to that ship.

The similarities were of course the brown and gold wood, a total of seventy five cannons armed on the sides, less than the HMS Endeavour but still capable of created mass destruction. And large billowing sails with the masts. However, Lachlan proudly had the United Kingdom flag perched on the back of his ship along with an EITC flag that was next to it just like the Endeavour.

Lachlan had been rewarded with the ship by Cutler Beckett himself not only for his outstanding loyalty and brutal defense for the EITC, but for of course, that achievement Lachlan had always been so proud of.

"So I see you've still got this parasite around." A disgusted voice mocked at Lachlan, cutting the man out of his pleasing thoughts. The Privateer turned to face the man, who was unsurprisingly Justin, who was glaring knives at Thomas who hissed at the man in response.

"That's correct, Mister Daniels." Lachlan frowned, and crossed his arms as he faced the older man. Justin had seemed to still be furious about the whole losing his ship situation and immediately became bright red in the face. Lachlan began softly smiling with pleasure as he stared at the man's dark eyes.

The Privateer noticed that Justin's knuckles were dangerously white now as both his hands had transformed into fists and he knew that was a bad sign. He chuckled and stepped closer to the man.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, it would be a shame for Cutler Beckett to know that you attacked one of his most successful work partners." Lachlan threatened and stepped back after Justin let out an irritated growl of pure rage, he forced his hands open and could only glare at Lachlan as he walked off with the most smug grin on his face.

Lachlan could feel the hate radiating from that man even as he walked off to find his first mate.

He really enjoyed angering that man.

~ ~ ~

Here is the next chapter finally!

There is some more scenes of Justin in this one because I wanna make him a gigantic asshole who loves nothing more than making everyone hate him. So if you hate him, then that means that I've done my job! xD

So yeah, Spencer is gonna be pretty upset for a while but he is important to the plot so it's not like I'm dumping that guy off into the sidelines. There's another flashback in this fic, I really love flashbacks, and it just explains what kind of hell Spencer and Diana have been through and why Spencer wasn't present when Justin threw Michael off board. There will be plenty of more flashbacks about the past which should clear up plenty of questions.

Each chapter should be focusing on Diana's or Davy's POV for one chapter and either Spencer or Lachlan's POV for another so that should be good! Beckett should be appearing after the next chapter, and he's gonna be himself obviously. I'm thinking about having two canon character appearances that live in Port Royal and I think you know which two I'm talking about.

Hint: They both have the same last name and are related!

Next chapter should be back on the Flying Dutchman!

#davy jones #pirates of the caribbean #bill nighy #not so heartless after all #fan character #can't wait to start writing the next one #make sure to leave a review #i love other people's thoughts on my work!

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amplesalty · 4 years

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Halloween 2020 - Day 3 - Bram Stoker’s Dracula (1992)

The Apocalypse is Now for me!

Even without getting into the Universal sequels the way I have been with their Frankenstein franchise, I certainly have managed to get through a fair few Dracula related movies over the years; the 1931 version (and it’s Spanish language counterpart), Nosferatu, Shadow of the Vampire, Dracula: Dead and Loving It, Dracula 2000, Van Helsing, Monster Squad, Hotel Transylvania and the BBC production from earlier this year. Never did a recap on the final episode of that though. This one has been on the list for a while, along with the 1994 Frankenstein movie, and it recently turned up cheap on blu-ray so why not? It is on UK Netflix at the moment so could have saved myself a few pounds but, eh, it can sit with the Universal boxsets and I am curious to look at some of the extras.

This is directed by Francis Ford Coppola and, for someone widely regarded as one of the great filmmakers of all time, I’ve never seen any of his work so this is a first. I do have the Godfather boxset here though that I should get around to a some point. Looking at his filmography, Jack really sticks out like a sore thumb.

Looking at some of the various Dracula adaptations though, one that stands out is an animated Batman movie called The Batman vs Dracula that came out in 2005. I kinda need to see that, along with the TMNT cross over they did last year. There’s actually more Batman/Dracula movies out there apparently, including a lost Fillipino film called Batman Fights Dracula and Batman Dracula which was produced and directed by Andy Warhol, both without permission from DC Comics. I wasn’t expecting one, let alone three of the things.

This version seems to be much more in line with the original source material, featuring a lot of scenes told from diary entries, letters and ship logs. Plus it features Quincey Morris and a more dramatic finale where Dracula faces off against a group consisting of Harker, Van Helsing, Seward, Holmwood and Morris before nearly getting stabbed to death. More interesting at least than sneaking in whilst he’s asleep and staking him through the heart.

It adds to an overall feel of sympathy that it feels like the movie is trying to build for Dracula. It opens up by showing his heroic feats in battle, fighting off the Turks and defending the Order of the Dragon, only for his wife to commit suicide when she receives fake news of her husband’s demise. When Dracula is told that his bride’s soul cannot be saved for she has sinned in taking her own life, he renounces God and drives his sword into a cross which proceeds to have blood gush out of it which he laps up. Even when he goes to turn Mina into one of the undead, he hesitates, reluctant to saddle her with his same fate.

Then when Harker arrives to conduct business with Carfax Abbey, Dracula laments the passage of time, how his great race is now but a distant memory and, when learning of Harker’s fiancé Mine, mourns his own departed wife.

That wig is really stupid though.

Even in the face of that, the movie still managed to win Oscars for Best Costume Design, as well as Best Sound Effects Editing and Best Makeup. It lost Best Art Direction to Howards End. The visuals truly are the high point of the film, particularly early on with the gothic scenery of Dracula’s castle or the surreality of all the blood in the chapel in the aforementioned origin scene for Dracula.

There’s one gorgeous moment on Harker’s journey to Transylvania where he’s writing in his journal and the scene fades between an interior shot of him, to this shot of the train seemingly travelling atop his diary admist a dusk skyline. That same orange skyline is in effect in the scene where Dracula fights the Turks, with everything playing out in silhouette.

Dracula’s armor is quite unique there as well. Has this ostentatious feel to it, I don’t know how protective it would be but it’s very striking. It’s something I’ve seen out of context before seeing the movie and it always made me think of the human body without skin, all the muscles and tendons and what not. Like Frank in Hellraiser before he’s fully reformed. It feels like the kinda thing you’d see as a unique armour set in Dark Souls.

I really like the lunatic asylum where we find Renfield and Dr Seward, even if it is underused. Renfield is always my favourite part of these movies but we start with him already mad and it’s Harker who has to take over his accounts and go seal the Dracula deal before being targeted by the Count and his mistresses in the castle. The whole asylum has this very grimey, industrial feel to it.

The guards have these head cages on and Reinfield has these odd hand/finger braces? For some reason the Dracula: Dead and Loving it version is coming to mind where everything is much cleaner and looks like some stately home. There’s that scene where Seward invites Renfield out for a spot of afternoon tea, only Renfield is more interested in the passing insects than any sandwiches or pastries on offer. Absolutely a world away from his surroundings here.

The cast is very strong, with Gardy Oldman as Dracula and Anthony Hopkins as Van Helsing standing out, even amongst the lesser parts you’ve got Richard E. Grant, Cary Elwes and even Tom Waits as Renfield. Keanu Reeves and Winona Ryder are also noteworthy, mainly for their English accents. It’s kina hard to see Reeves in this role personally as I’ve just come off the back of rewatching the first two Bill & Ted’s, as well as the new one, so I keep expecting Harker to be like “This Dracula dude is totally keeping me locked in his castle and intends to turn me into one of his undead groupies, that is most heinous!” I find Harker tends to just blend in by the end of the movie though as he’s often in these group settings along with Van Helsing, Holmwood, Seward and Morris and it’s the former two that often stand out most due to Van Helsing’s eccentricity and Holmwood being the comparative straight man who’s always confused as to what the devil is going on.

Certainly for the spectacle alone this is worth watching, beyond that, I’m not so sure. I think anything once Dracula leaves Transylvania I’m not as interested in, this version like the BBC once this year focuses more on the initial meeting between Harker and Dracula and spends more time within the castle, looking at their interactions and Harker’s suffering.

#Halloween 2020 #Dracula #Bram Stoker's Dracula

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morganamysticblog · 4 years

Text

ROYAL ROMANCE – BOOK 2 – FANFIC PART 3 –

The waiter quietly approaches Heather’s table, sliding a check onto the table along with a few napkins.

Heather – Merci.

Waiter – You appeared to need them. Let me know when you are ready to pay.

Heather – I’m ready now. Do you happen to know a good hotel nearby? One that accepts pets?

Waiter – The Pullman is not far. It has magnifique view of La Tour Eiffel.

Heather – Thank you so much. I’m ready to pay.

She pulls out enough Euros to cover the check and a decent tip. Jackson perks up at the news they are heading off again. Heather stands up and heads down the street toward the hotel.

AT THE HOTEL PULLMAN –

Heather checks into a suite overlooking the Eiffel Tower. Jackson runs around the room checking out all the new smells and finally plops down in front of the large window watching the sites outside.

Heather flops down on the soft queen size bed. It had been about two hours since she sent her messages to her friends, but no one had called her or messaged her back.

Heather – Well, that was a huge waste of time apparently. I wonder how much alcohol is in the mini fridge. Never too early to start day drinking. It’s 5:00 somewhere, right? Maybe room service can bring more. Obviously I’m going to need it. I thought I mattered to them. Hell, I even half expected Liam to try to contact me to apologize. But nothing. That’s a major ego killer. Well, Jackson, it’s just you and me, I guess.

Jackson lets out a quiet “woof” from his happy spot in front of the warm windows.

Heather checks the mini fridge and finds 3 shot-size bottles. She opens one and downs it. It burns her throat a bit, but she opens another and downs it before the burn can subside. The third one is quickly gone.

Heather – Jackson, what are we going to do? Where are we going to go? I feel so lost, so alone. Oh no!!! Shazam. I left her in Cordonia. How am I going to get her back? Where am I going to take her? The only place I have left is the ranch in Dallas. I mean, technically it is mine. It has been since I was 16. But, do I want the responsibility that comes with going back? I’d be expected to start working at the office. Trying to learn the oil business. But, that is why I took all those business and marketing classes in college, right? Heh…the big wigs at the office would be a whole lot easier to deal with than the people in the Royal Court. At least they say what they mean, and even if they don’t, you can see them getting ready to stab you in the back, instead of them sneaking around like the royals. What do you think Jackson? Do you want to go to Texas?

Jackson – Woof.

Heather – I’m not sure if that’s a yes or no. I guess we need to think about it some more.

Heather stares out the window at the Eiffel Tower. Tears start streaming down her face again.

Heather – I don’t know what to do. I feel like such an idiot. I am a naïve, trusting moron. At least Daniel at the bar in New York was truthful with me. My life was so normal back then. Apparently Hana had a class on “The art of pretending to be a friend.” And Maxwell, he was able to keep Savannah’s secret for a year, apparently he is a lot better at deception than I thought. But Drake. I thought I would have at least heard from Drake by now. I can just picture them all sitting around sipping their Chardonnay, playing my messages to each of them, and laughing hysterically at my expense. God, my life sucks.

Heather calls room service and requests as many bottles of whiskey they can provide. A few minutes later, a knock on the door provides 30 shot-size bottles of whiskey. 10 minutes later, 20 of them are empty. Heather lays back on the bed and slowly falls asleep to the sound of birds chirping and Jackson’s quiet snore.

----

Liam wanders around the streets of Paris aimlessly. He finally finds a small café and sits down at one of the outdoor tables. A waiter comes out to take his order.

Liam – Coffee and a croissant please.

Waiter – That must be a popular order. You are the second person to order that this morning.

Liam – Really?

Waiter – Yes, a lovely girl with a fluffy dog ordered the same thing just an hour ago.

Liam – A girl with a dog? Did she have blond hair, beautiful blue eyes?

Waiter – Oui monsieur.

Liam – You wouldn’t happen to know where she went do you?

Waiter – Oui. I believe she went to the Pullman hotel.

Liam – You are the absolute best monsieur. Merci!!

Liam starts getting up from the table.

Waiter – Monsieur, did you still want to place your order?

Liam – Sorry, no. I must go. Thank you again.

Liam walks quickly, almost running, down the street to the Pullman hotel. Heather was still in Paris. He had to see her. She would probably smack him, then slam the door in his face, but he still had to take the chance. After what feels like an eternity he reaches the lobby of the Pullman hotel.

Liam – Excuse me, could you tell me what room Heather Riley is in? I am King Liam of Cordonia and I have important business to discuss with her.

Receptionist – My apologies monsieur, but we cannot provide information to outsiders about our guests. Not even to a king.

Liam – Can you call her room and tell her to come down here?

Receptionist – No monsieur, I cannot. The privacy of our guests is our utmost priority. We do not disturb our guests once they have arrived unless they specifically advise us that they are expecting someone.

Liam – I see. Well, thank you anyway.

Liam slowly walks away from the reception desk and out the door. He heads over to the park by the Eiffel Tower and sits down on a bench. He picks up his phone, staring blankly at the picture of Heather on his home screen.

----

10:00 Heather is woken up by the sound of her phone ringing. She groggily reaches for the phone. It’s a number she doesn’t recognize.

Heather – Hello?

Queen Regina – Lady Heather? This is Queen Mother Regina.

Heather – Oh. Hello your majesty.

Queen Regina – I apologize for disturbing you. Madeleine told me that Liam was not quite himself this morning at their meeting with the Ambassador, and that he left quite abruptly. I was hoping he might be with you. I wanted to speak with him briefly.

Heather – No. He’s not with me. I’m probably the last person he needs to be with right now.

Queen Regina – Oh. I’m sorry to hear that. Have you spoken with him?

Heather – No. Regina, no offense to you because you have actually been really nice to me since I came to Cordonia, but your husband and your step-son need some serious lessons in people skills.

Queen Regina – Excuse me?

Heather – The way the treat people. I can see why their enemies are swarming them. They need to learn how to treat people with respect, not like pawns.

Queen Regina – Lady Heather, I don’t know what has happened, but I will speak with them. Again, I apologize for disturbing you. I wish you well, Lady Heather.

Heather – Thank you ma’am. (hangs up the phone)

Heather – Well, that was interesting. Almost four hours and the only person who calls is Queen Regina. Wow. Ok then. Jackson, do you want to go for a walk? I see a park across the street where you can run out some energy.

Jackson – Aroof!

Heather – Alright, let’s go.

Heather walks out of the hotel with Jackson on his leash. When they round the corner toward the park Jackson starts pulling hard on his leash. Heather has to pull him back when he tries to cross the street and almost gets hit by an oncoming car.

Heather – Jackson! What’s gotten into you? You can be patient for another minute until the light turns green.

Jackson stares across the road at a bench in the park and barks over and over.

Heather – Jackson! That’s enough! I will take you back inside if you don’t stop.

Jackson lets out one soft bark, but then stops. The light turns green and they cross the road to the park. On the other side of the street, Jackson starts pulling on his leash again, almost dragging Heather and making her walk much faster just to keep up with him.

Heather – Jackson! Dammit! What…

She breaks off when she sees who Jackson is running to. Liam sits on a bench not far from them, scrolling through pictures on his phone. Heather accidentally drops Jackson’s leash and Jackson runs to Liam, barking and jumping on Liam’s legs for attention.

Liam – Oh! Well hello there. Jackson? Is that you boy?

Jackson – Woof!

Liam – If you’re here…

Liam looks up and sees Heather coming toward him. He tries to wipe his eyes before she can see how much he has been crying.

Liam – Heather…

Heather – Hello. I apologize for Jackson disturbing you.

Liam – No, he’s not disturbing me. I’m happy to see him. And you.

Heather – What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at some meeting or function or something? Wasn’t there some fancy tea party coming up?

Liam – I skipped it. I couldn’t deal with pretending to be someone I’m not right now.

Heather – Ha. I thought you were pretty good at pretending to be someone you’re not.

Liam – I deserve that, and much more from you. Nothing you say or do at this point could be worse than the shame and hatred I feel for myself for hurting you. I know there is probably nothing I could ever say or do to convince you of how much I care for you. The times with you, us alone, have been the only thing real in my entire life.

Heather – How long have you been out here? How did you even know I was here? Have you been stalking me? Having your guards follow me?

Liam – No. I stopped at the café down the street after my meeting this morning. Apparently you and I have the same taste in breakfast. The waiter told me about a girl ordering the same thing earlier. I described you to him and he confirmed that it was you. I asked him if he knew where you went and he told me the hotel. I tried to get the person at the front desk to let me talk to you, but she wouldn’t even confirm if you were there. So, I came here, just to be alone, away from everyone.

Heather – Oh.

Liam – I assumed Drake would be with you. I didn’t want to disturb you.

Heather – Ha. Yeah, there’s the joke of the day. The only person that has contacted me since I left this morning is Regina. And she was only looking for you.

Liam – I…I don’t understand. When Drake left this morning, I assumed he came to be with you. Maxwell, Hana, none of them have contacted you?

Heather – No. And at this point, I’m done with everybody. Lesson definitely learned. From this point on my heart is locked up in Fort Knox. Look out for number one, isn’t that the American motto? Well, today taught me I’m all on my own.

Liam – My father really messed everything up didn’t he?

Heather – Not just your father. You went along with it too. And obviously everyone else was in on it. Well, apparently except Regina. Which was rather surprising.

Liam – No one else knew, Heather. Well, except Bastien, obviously.

Heather – I find that hard to believe. I imagined you all sitting around having a great laugh about how stupid I’ve been this whole time.

Liam – I would never do that, Heather. I know you don’t believe me, but I do care about you. No, more than that. I love you. I never stopped. I meant what I said to you the night of the coronation. I wanted to propose to you that night. I wanted to spend my life with you.

Heather – Why should I believe you? You knew your father wanted to get rid of me, wanted you to marry Madeleine. You let me run around like a fool chasing leads on some imaginary investigation. You could have stopped it by telling the truth at any time. But you didn’t.

Liam – You’re right. I should have told you. Even if I did, what good would it have done? I would still have been engaged to Madeleine. We still would have been hiding behind closed doors. I couldn’t clear your name, refute the pictures on my own without severely damaging my father’s reputation, the entire royal family’s reputation. The trust of the people of Cordonia would be lost in an instant.

Heather – So, it was all for totally selfish reasons. I see.

Liam – No, not just that. I was protecting my family, yes. But I have also been secretly been looking for Tariq. If I could find Tariq, he is the missing piece to clear everything.

Heather – So, in a way, you have been helping.

Liam – Of course. I know I have hurt you deeply. I was only trying to protect you.

Heather – Well, you still should have told me. (phone buzzes) Hang on a second.

Heather looks at her phone. It’s Drake.

Liam – If you need to take that, I’ll leave.

Heather – No, he can wait. He’s made me wait this long. Look, Liam, I’m not saying I actually believe anything you’re saying. I want to, but you are very good at being deceptive and saying what people want to hear to make yourself look better.

Liam – Please tell me what I can do to prove myself to you. A press conference? A giant billboard with my picture announcing that I messed up or publicly declaring my love for you? Abdicating my throne? I’ll do anything you ask.

Heather – I do have one thing that I need you to do.

Liam – Anything.

Heather – Can you send Shazam to Dallas, Texas? I can give you the address to send her to.

Liam – Of course. She will have luxury accommodations, I promise. Just tell me when and I will make the arrangements.

Heather – Thank you.

Liam – Is that where you’re heading to next?

Heather – I don’t know yet. I haven’t figured that part out yet. I just know that’s the only place I have for her.

Liam – It’s not the only place. I am more than happy to take care of her at the palace for you for as long as you like.

Heather – Under the circumstances, I think it’s best if I clear out from Cordonia. Start fresh.

Liam – For what it’s worth, you will always have a home in Cordonia as long as I am king.

Heather – I don’t even know what to say. I need to think.

Liam – I completely understand. I don’t leave for Shanghai until tomorrow morning. I am supposed to go to the opera later this afternoon, but I can skip it. I just want to be available for you. And no matter where I am, I am always just a phone call away.

Heather – I think I just need to be alone right now. I appreciate the offer.

Liam – Take your time. I will wait for you forever if that’s how long it takes.

Heather – Liam, I know you’re trying here. I just…I’m not saying I forgive you or whether I even believe you right now. And honestly, with the mood I’m in right now, pushing me is not a good idea. You may end up with another black eye to match the one you already have. How did you get that, by the way?

Liam – Drake.

Heather – What?!?

Liam – When we all received your messages this morning, he yelled at me and punched me. Which, I deserved. How bad is it? I haven’t looked in a mirror since I got dressed this morning.

Heather – It’s starting to darken up nicely.

Liam – I shall wear it as my badge of shame for all the trouble I’ve caused you.

Heather – Liam, I need some time to think. I’m going to head back in. Actually, I may head down the street for some lunch. I saw a McDonald’s and I’m dying for some good greasy fast food.

Liam – Would you like some company?

Heather – No. Like I said, I need to be by myself for a while. I have a lot to think about. I…I’m glad we talked, Liam.

Liam – As am I. Would you mind if I remained here for a while? It’s peaceful.

Heather – Uh, sure. It’s a public park. Not like I can force you to leave.

Liam – Actually, a word from you and I would leave immediately if you wanted me to.

Heather – Oh. Well, you can stay, I guess. If you want.

Liam – Thank you. I hope we get a chance to speak again. I am here any time you need me, Heather.

Heather – Thanks Liam. See ya around, maybe.

Heather walks away with Jackson in tow heading down to McDonald’s. Liam brings his phone back out and begins scrolling through photos again, reminiscing about all the wonderful times with Heather over the past few months.

----

After putting Jackson back in the hotel room, Heather walks to McDonald’s for some lunch. After ordering and getting her food, she sits down at a booth in the back and pulls out her phone. There’s a voice mail from Drake.

Heather – Do I really want to hear this? Probably not, but might as well get it over with. I don’t think this day could get much worse.

Voice Mail from Drake – Riley. Hey, it’s Drake. Look, I, uh, we need to talk. I’m at Savannah’s if you want to meet me, or call me. Whatever. Ok. So, call me.

Heather – Ok, cryptic much? I am not dealing with this right now.

________________________________________________________________

Drake – Ok Bartie…let’s see what kind of advice you have.

Bartie – Gah?

Drake – So what did you think of Heather last time we were here? She’s nice, right?

Bartie – Gah.

Drake – Just between you and me, she’s a good kisser too.

Bartie – Ooooh.

Drake – Ha ha. Yeah. So why haven’t I called her yet? Your mom’s too smart for her own good, you know that? Making me think about all this.

Bartie – Ah.

Drake – I mean we’ve spent some decent time alone with each other, but the only reason we were even together was to hide out from the drama at Court. I mean, she’s gorgeous, smart, funny, just amazing. So what’s holding me back?

Bartie – Gah?

Drake – I don’t know either. My own insecurities thinking I don’t deserve somebody as amazing as her. And even after everything we’ve been through, a part of me still thinks she’s going to end up with Liam. She should end up with him. He loves her. He screwed up big time, but he loves her. He can literally give her the world. All I can give her is smores and a bottle of whiskey. Not much of a comparison.

Bartie – Gah ah.

Drake – I’ve held myself back so much, trying not to get too close. And even after pushing her away as much as I could, she still said she loves me. I don’t understand how. I’m nothing, just a simple guy with nothing to show for my life. And yet somehow, she saw something in me. I just don’t understand it little guy.

Bartie – Goo ah.

Drake – So do you think I should try to call her? I don’t know. I keep thinking I’m just the rebound guy, you know? Second choice by default. I mean, seriously, it was me or your Uncle Maxwell. Which one of us would you choose? Wait, don’t answer that. You’d probably pick Maxwell cause he’s more fun. Ugh…who knew I was the one with self-esteem issues.

Bartie lays his head against Drake’s shoulder giving him a baby hug.

Drake – Thanks buddy. I needed that.

Savannah walks back into the room.

Savannah – Looks like you two are bonding pretty well.

Drake – You were right. He’s a great listener.

Savannah – So, did he help you make any decisions?

Drake – Yeah, he helped me to decide I’m really bad at making decisions.

Savannah – Ha ha ha. Wow. Well, here’s a decision for you. Call her.

Drake – What if…?

Savannah – No second guessing, no more procrastinating, just call her!

Drake – Wow, demanding. Yes sis.

Drake picks up his phone and pushes the button for Heather’s number. After one ring it goes to voice mail.

Drake – Riley. Hey, it’s Drake. Look, I, uh, we need to talk. I’m at Savannah’s if you want to meet me, or call me. Whatever. Ok. So, call me.

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