mondomillionz

[cozystars]

I don't think you convinced her it wasn't poisoned, AM. Based off of that post, if you couldn't tell

[little-bard]

So I have this idea for gender fluid in the witcher universe. So humor me if you will.

So I’ve seen the idea floated around the community how there could easily be trans people because they could just do the same thing as Yennefer. But obviously, you give up fertility to live in the body you should have been born with. I was thinking traditional non-binary could do it to appear more androgynous if that’s what they wanted as well. But then I started thinking of myself. I’m technically non-binary but I’m gender fluid. And sometimes I want to present highly masc but can’t because of my body but I would also be depressed if I couldn’t present femme anymore on the days where I felt that way.

So here’s my fantasy solution. You can go through the same spell but it’s ever-changing. Whereas Yen’s is a permanent appearance change this is one that changes with your true inner self. You obviously give up being fertile but I’m not sure if it would require more yet. It would obviously mean no casual sex as you don’t want the man you just bedded as a woman to wake up next to a man. Or reverse. And it would be hard to maintain friends because you could have two lives almost but once you maneuver telling the people you’re close to I think it would kinda be like a superpower? Like you can be a wanted criminal as a man and a queen as a woman. I also don’t imagine there being a lot of people who would be gender fluid in the universe. So it’s odd and many people don’t even know it exists. I think I would write a binary gender-fluid character with male and female. But they could be any genders. And it’s not like shapeshifting (I mean kinda but also no?) like strictly still their race and usually still similar looking.

I kinda have an original character in mind, obviously friends with Jaskier because I feel like the little bard draws special people to him. Maybe an Ex-lover? No definitely because Jaskier is bi/pan as heck and being able to love one person who’s both man and women and amazing and sweet. And ATTRACTIVE that’s amazing! Also, this person probably felt the most comfortable letting their pent up sexual energy out with the man Because let’s be honest, Jaskier is a sweetheart and treats them exactly the same no matter if they feel like a different gender in the morning. (Also they’re both huge sluts and enjoy the same things sexually.) And that’s exactly what they needed, someone who cared about them and understand they were one person, just someone who experienced 2 genders and needed to be both to be happy and fulfilled. But they realized they weren’t right for each other and remained best friends.

I imagine them meeting the gang in a female form. Short and curvy, long flowing wavy brown hair a beautiful dress and a soft almost doll-like face all tied together by their piercing green eyes. Jaskier sees them at a random event at court and invites them to travel with the crew to the next town as they’re all heading that way. At first, they’re weary but they agree, as it’s Jaskier there’s no way he would travel with anyone unaccepting of who they were.

Geralt is almost jealous when they arrive to begin the journey with their own horse (a bigger bag too. Normally one person didn’t need that much) and even lets Jaskier ride with them. Jaskier begins playing his lute and singing a song that Geralt isn’t familiar with but they certainly are, as they sing along to his song bird-like voice with a soft and beautiful voice of their own. At camp later too, the two were inseparable. Geralt tried to not stare at them. Jaskier had always been a flirt and could get any person in bed if he wanted to. But it was the familiar feeling between the two that put Geralt on edge. Nobody but him was supposed to those soft smiles on Jaskiers lip or having Jaskier sing them songs only they knew. Geralt felt the Magic on them but he and yen agreed that it was just like the spell on her. Appearance-based nothing more. The two old friends put their bedrolls basically on top of each other and Geralt often heard a small giggle from either one of them throughout the night. He kept his eyes looking up at the sky as to not know if his bard was bedding another.

In the morning Geralt stared shocked, as where there once was a small woman the night before there stood a tall buff man maybe even two inches taller than him. The man had on a simple tunic and leather pants, his hair was longer then Geralt’s and brown and wavy but was pulled up in a bun, he was broad-shouldered but still seemed to have a clumsy air about him, most importantly, he had green piercing eyes. Jaskier was basically hanging off the mans arm as he begged for the man to make him breakfast. All the man did was let out a low deep chuckle. Geralt forced a cough and that alerted the pair to his presence.

“Jaskier.” Geralt basically growled. He was demanding an explanation but the bard was busy trying to shove a pan into the taller person’s hands.

“You didn’t tell them?” The man said as fear ran through his eyes. “Jaskier!” They said in a deep roar. “You always do this”

“I didn’t think it was any of there business Cass! Who you are shouldn’t be that much of a big deal.” Jaskier responded. Geralt was almost hurt that he was being ignored but at least they weren’t being close like before. Somehow them fighting calmed him. “Also I don’t always do this.”

“Oh yeah? What about that time you basically demanded we have a threesome with that warrior woman? We bedded her as two men. You remember how you promised me, you would make sure I got to our room that night before the morning in case I wasn’t the same and it put our lives in danger? You know I get sleepy after sex! But you wanted another round so you let me fall asleep then and then you did after. Remember her reaction when she woke up and a woman was curled into her side? She almost killed us for ‘tricking’ her!” This statement did not calm Geralt. Especially coming from the beefy man in front of him. Jaskier definitely had a type. By now yen was awake and listening intently. It’s almost as if you could see the popcorn in her hand. Both of them were slowly piecing, where the women had disappeared to, together though.

“I thought you liked when I demanded you. You know you could have always said no. I only did that because of both of our enjoyment.” Jaskier genuinely looked worried and stepped closer to the other person before him, resting a soft hand on their arm.

“Jask, you know it’s not that. I did enjoy it...” they suddenly got quiet, becoming more aware of the others around them. “...can we not discuss my sexual desires in front of a witcher and a sorceress, please? I was saying you normally forget how hard it is for people to understand who I am. Not everyone is you Jaskier. Some people like a heads up that the women they met yesterday is now a man who looks like he weight lifts 3 cows every morning.”

“I know I’m sorry. I just forgot it’s not normal. You’re one of the most important people in my life, I just assumed others would judge you on character, not gender.” Jaskier apologized in a soft voice.

“It’s fine. I know you don’t mean harm.” They smiled and picked up Jaskier for a strong hug. Jaskier let out a giggle and hugged them back.

Geralt coughed letting them know of his presence once more. The taller person pulled away from the hug with a deep blush.

“Oh, I guess I’ll formally introduce myself as Jaskier didn’t. I’m Cass. Born Lady Cassandra. Jask likes to joke it’s actually short for Casanova. I have a similar spell as Yennefer if what Jaskier tells me and what I know about sorceresses is true. But mine is a bit more complicated. I don’t feel one gender or the other. I feel both but normally at different times. I settled mine with changing each day based on how my true self felt when the sun rises.” They extend their hand for Geralt to shake. He grabs it hesitantly.

“So your Jaskiers lover?” Yennefer asks bluntly.

“Ex-lover. No need to fear dear sorceress, I’m very much free for the taking.” They said with a chuckle and wink. “Me and Jask work much better at friends. So you need not worry either Witcher! I promise to not lay an ill-intentioned finger on your little bard. But if you don’t soon someone will. I mean unless you're not into small boys, if that’s that case I’ll over myself then” They laughed and it was deep and jolly. It felt like it could shake the whole forest.

“Cass!” Jaskier lept back into the conversation and slapped the other. “Stop flirting with my friends. They’ll start to like you more than me. Go make breakfast, Geralt always burns it.” He shoved the pan at them while pushing them to the fire.

OKAY IM STOPPING THERE.

Basically, I needed to get this out of my system to focus on actual fics. But it was really cute in my head. I hope you enjoyed 💕

[mediocrebutworking]

A(n) (Un)Broken Promise by Hana Afifah Nuraini

Sunray was breaking through the leaves of an old white oak, flooding its somewhat-finger shaped leaves with abundant energies. Birds chirped, sang their orchestral concert with rhythm. Blue sky with the dense of leaves became their backdrop, no less interesting with the luxurious curtain in concert halls. From afar, the buzzing sound of a lawnmower aired. The laughter of a bunch of children in the neighbourhood, with them lively playing, gave a joyous scenery.

Little Lucy, with teddy bear swinging in her grip, stared those kids from inside her cupboard. She knew them: her neighbour’s children. Following the way they ran and hid, she knew that they were playing hide-and-seek. Pouty lips appeared; she always wanted to play together with them. But that pouty lips immediately gone, knowing that she would play in this cupboard under the old white oak, their hangout, with her lovely twin: Rosy. A huge, childish smile spread on her face.

“Rosy!” shouted the little girl inside the opened cupboard. She saw her twin, hugged a bunny doll, and ran all the way to her. Mother and Father stood in the veranda of their American typical house, observing the little runner. Rosy’s wavy hair ricocheted funnily as she ran with wide steps. Lucy looked at her twin carefully; Rosy wore a little pink gown with a bow on her back. That was in contrast with her clothing, as Lucy wore a little blue gown and bow. Their hair was tied with the same colour as their gowns. Lucy waited for her twin to arrive.

“Lucy! Huh… huh…” Rosy panted as she didn’t usually run. Her body was weaker than Lucy’s who were more athletic.

“Calm down, Rosy. Here, sit here and take a rest.” Lucy shifted a little so Rosy could sit near her inside the opened cupboard.    

“So… What are we gonna do today? I see those kids are playing hide-and-seek,” Rosy followed where Lucy was looking at.

“Mm, I don’t feel like doing hide-and-seek right now, Lucy. Too much running for me,” Rosy took teddy bear and hugged it. Teddy bear and bunny collided in her hug. “Sorry,” her eyes glanced to Lucy.

“Never mind, we can play tea party like we usually do. Now come on,” Lucy grabbed Rosy’s hand and took her to the bench near the cupboard. On the table lied many cups and a teapot, completed with artificial cakes and biscuits. Then they played as two princesses having a tea party. Mr. Teddy Bear and Mr. Bunny also attended it. In the middle of role-playing, Rosy suddenly asked, “Lucy, is it possible for us to stay the same?”

“Huh? What do you mean? I guess we will be taller in some years ahead, wouldn’t we?”

“Yeah, I mean can we keep being together like this?” Rosy stared deeply into Lucy’s eyes. Lucy smiled sweetly.

“Of course my sister, we will be happy together as always…”

_______________________(^`*’^)__________________________

Twelve years later

Lucy looked at her clock in panic. The long needle pointed at four while the shorter needle pointed at eight. It was ten minutes until the first period and Lucy hadn’t found her History notebook yet. Frantically she searched all over her desk and bookshelf, but she found nothing. Lucy stopped for a while, thinking where last she put it.

Dad’s car honked from outside. Not too long she heard him calling her. “Come on Lucy! We’re almost late!”

“I’m coming, Dad!” Lucy looked out her window to find her father stood next to the car and a girl crossed her arms with boredom. The girl looked straight at her. Her gaze as if said, “Why don’t you learn?” Seeing it, Lucy squinted and continued her searching. Her eyes shone brightly as she found the target. Quickly she grabbed her green History notebook, which was under her rug. Of course, she couldn’t find it easily. She quickly got out of her empty house. Mom had left to her restaurant.

Dad and the girl were already in the car. Lucy opened the door to the back seat and got in. Quickly the black car speeded up to their school.

“What’s wrong Lucy? You used to be quite early before going to school,” Dad asked while waiting for the traffic.

“I lost my notebook, Dad. Today, I have a History exam in the first period,”

“I see. I recalled that you already had it, right Rosy?”

The girl, who was very similar to Lucy, nodded her head. “Yeah Dad, last week. It was a piece of cake, I’m telling you, Lucy. Wanna know the questions?” Rosy smiled wittily.

Lucy snorted, “No, thanks. I’m good,” She then drowned herself on her notebook, trying to memorize the subject matters. She secretly disliked that trait of Rosy who liked to offer exam questions to her. Lucy knew that Rosy wouldn’t tell her the real question though; she just teased her. If she did tell the real questions, Lucy wouldn’t take it. Simplicity from a rival was never warmly received by Lucy.

That was right. Rival. Lucy considered her twin as a rival in achievements academically. They went to the same school from kindergarten, which was Mason Bread Schools. This school ranged from kindergarten to senior high, making rivalry between Lucy and Rosy never ended. Despite the fact that they were twins, they were quite different in terms of attitude and achievement. Rosy was like a princess, graceful, and quite polite. She was also accepted in grade A class, which explained why she already had her exam before Lucy had. She always aced every competition in their schools, whether it was Mathematic Olympic or Science Fair since they were in primary school. Her reputation as the smartest student since kindergarten was inevitable. Rosy’s positive aura always made everyone liked her, even the fierce school janitor, Ruby, really liked her. Name other positive traits, and most of them would suit with Rosy. In a shorter way, Rosy was almost perfect.

The only weakness of Rosy would be that she was weaker than Lucy. Her weak immune system often made her visit the hospital. She had to take medicine routinely to keep her health. Dad and Mom, of course, paid more attention to Rosy mainly when her schedule was so packed with competitions and exams. It was the time when Rosy would likely to get ill. Lucy didn’t have any problem with the division of attention from their parents to Rosy and her. Only that sometimes she felt a little bit lonely if the three of them left to the hospital and she was home alone.  

Lucy, on the other hand, was mostly on the second place. Either it was coincidence or not, Lucy was accepted in the regular class. That explained why her exams later than Rosy's, since the pace in A class was very fast. Previously Rosy and she enrolled for the same class: A class. It turned out that only Rosy who was accepted. To make it up, Lucy also joined the same competitions as Rosy did, but she always lost from Rosy. They always competed for their achievements, but mostly the result could be predicted: Rosy the winner and Lucy the runner-up. One plus point from Lucy was that she was more creative and artsy than Lucy, proven by many drawings she hung on their room’s wall. Other than that, Lucy always got a higher score for P.E than Rosy.

Different from her twin, Lucy had a slightly less positive aura than Rosy. Since they were kids, Lucy always acted fiercely, moreover when there are some idiots who were quite brave to annoy Rosy. She wouldn’t hesitate to beat those bullies until they collapsed. The rumour spread around the school made gangs of bullies scared to get closer to them, but still, there were some who got the nerve to face Lucy. Her sharp yet cold gaze made Lucy’s aura became more menacing. They labelled Lucy as Princess’ Bodyguard. Of course, the princess was Rosy. Lucy never burdened with that role, though. Instead, she was proud to be admitted as a strong person. Her slim but firm-built also proved that nobody didn’t want to mess with her.

Rosy was a princess in the spotlight, where everyone was cheering on her and took many pictures of her. She laughed happily with the crowds. Whereas Lucy was behind those crowds, far away from being the centre of attention. She was always enveloped by darkness. Nobody stood beside her. She was alone and lonely.

This kind of illustration in her mind made her thinking bad. Am I not good enough to be loved?

Now that Lucy entered a higher level of education, she wanted to change Rosy’s dominance. She used to be cheering on Rosy’s victory whenever she won something, and she was quite lazy to join competitions. But now, she decided to change. She wouldn’t give up. Enough with being the second as always. It was her turn to be number one.

She thought for a while. At the same time, there was a traffic jam. Many cars honked impatiently to others, asking them to move faster. Dad sighed on the front seat and Rosy just stared out of the window’s car. Lucy stared at the tree on the right side of the car. There were so many branches, making as if the tree wasn’t focused on one point. Like an abstract painting. At that very moment, she realized it.

She was just focused on academic matters when actually those weren’t her expertise. She worked very hard for Science Fair, mathematic Olympic, and biology class while actually she was better in Art class and P.E. Not that the hard work was in vain, it was just that she focused on Rosy’s abilities and forgot her own potential skills. Just like the tree she looked at, the branches were everywhere and they didn’t focus on one direction. Her laziness for not joining any art competitions or sports competitions resulted in fruit of guilt for her.

She sighed. I have wasted so many years and not proving my worth to Dad and Mom.  

After thinking for a while, Lucy finally decided. It will be quite hard to beat her academically. Maybe I’ll go with non-academically like painting or race. I can only do those kinds of things. I’ll just wait for any competitions, whether it is art or sports, it doesn’t really matter to me. I’ll just wait for my chance.

Finally, they arrived at school. The twin walked to the main building. As they walked in, the hall was quite empty. It was 8.30 sharp, time for the first period to begin. They parted in the hall.

“Break a leg, Lucy” Rosy smiled sweetly.

“Yeah, you too,”

Rosy went to the second floor to her A-class while Lucy went to the south of the hall, to her regular class. When Lucy entered her class, all the kids were already there. She looked at the surrounding and found no teacher in front of the class. She instantly remembered that Mr. Hawkins was always late in his first period.

She walked slowly to her seat and continued to read her History notebook. The noisy sound of the class as the soundtrack didn't distract her. She had just tried to catch what happened in 1492 in North America when she heard a voice.

"Morning, Lucy. You got a minute?"

Lucy lifted her head, and she found a pair of greyish eyes stared deeply into her chestnut brown. A pair of greyish eyes that she adored for so long, was in front of her. She was so still as if the black hole in those greyish balls absorbed her consciousness. Lucy's expression remained blank until three seconds later. Quickly she got back to normal.

"Morning, Oliver. What?"

"Uhm, I was wondering if you could teach me about subjects for today's examination,"

"...yeah, sure. You have just got here?”

“Yeah, I overslept again hahaha,” He stroked his blonde hair. He then fixed his posture on his turned-to-behind chair, ready to be taught.

Lucy rolled her eyes and smiled. She started to read the explanation in her notebook as normal as she could. It was Oliver Craig, her crush since she was in grade 5. They went to the same kindergarten and primary school and ended up being in the same class. Although she had known him since they were toddlers, she couldn’t stop her skipping-beat heart whenever he got too close to her. She tried her best not to sound trembling while Oliver scrutinized at her.

“Aah, I see it now. You know, I prefer to be taught by you rather than understanding Mr. Hawkins’ presentation. Yours is understandable while his is so confusing,” Oliver nodded his head after Lucy read and explained to him her note. In response, Lucy just smiled.

“Anyway, Lucy. Have you heard about the painting competition?”

“What painting competition?”

“Painting competition held by this school. Every year this school conducts art competitions, like dancing, band, sculpting, and painting. I know that you are great at painting, that’s why I recommend you to join it!” Oliver's eyes shone brightly. Lucy assumed that he wanted to join that competition as well.

“And you? You’re great at painting too, Oliver,”

“Definitely! I’ve been waiting for this since I was in junior high. Man, I’m aiming at the prize!” He shouted excitingly and punched the air.

Oliver’s spirit was contagious to Lucy. Lucy started to smile again, “What’s the prize? If it’s cool then I’m in,”

“One day trip to the Philadelphia Museum of Arts! There will be free tickets for both museums and planes and if I’m not mistaken, free dinner too! Isn’t it awesome?”

Lucy’s eyes widened. Philadelphia Museum of Arts was one of her dream places that she wanted to visit. Lucy once asked Dad to go there, but he couldn’t make it as it was quite far and he didn’t have time. And did Oliver mention about dinner too? Man, that’s great.

Mr Hawkins eventually came to the class. Oliver fixed his chair position to face the front. All kids in the class suddenly were quite. Lucy checked her watch. Mr Hawkins was late for fifteen minutes. He seemed like recovering from a bad hangover, with his eye bags which were getting darker and his exhausted face.

“Good morning, all. I’m sorry for being late. There’s some business I should take care of… And now, you guys will have an exam. Don’t worry, there will be only three out of five questions. I discount it as my apology. Now, frontier, please give these sheets to friends behind you,” Mr Hawkins said that while yawning like a cat in his table.

This is the chance that I’m waiting for, she thought to herself.

And so, when the exam was over and everyone was moving to the next class, Oliver dragged Lucy to information boards. Their eyes scanned every poster with ‘painting competition’ terms on it. Oliver’s pointed finger touched the posters on his right.

“Here it is, Mason Bread Painting Competition 2020. Let’s see… the prize… Museum and dinner, oh, it’s only for the first and second places! The third place… 24 colours of watercolour set plus sketchbook,” Oliver frowned. “Last year’s participants…. Oh my God, 157 participants? Sure this is tough,”

He crossed his arm. “What do you think, Lucy? It’s quite hard, I guess. But the prizes are worth the challenge,”

Lucy seemed determined. “I guess we have the chance, Oliver. I really want to visit the Philadelphia Museum. It has always been my dream place to visit,” She turned to Oliver. “I want to enrol to Mrs Lawrence on the second moving later. How about you?”

“I don’t know that you could be this excited,” Oliver laughed a little. “Alright, it is settled then. You and I, enrol to Mrs Lawrence on the second moving class,” He nodded, then smiled widely. “Maybe we really can visit the museum! Be prepared, Lucy!”

“Of course,” Lucy smiled. She had many hopes in her heart.

That day, she couldn’t focus on lessons after enrolling herself and Oliver to Mrs Lawrence, the Art teacher. Both of them had been Mrs Lawrence’s pets since the first meeting, and that old lady really supported them to win the competition.

“Alright, good luck you two,” said Mrs Lawrence after typing their names on the participant list.

Yeah, good luck for us, Lucy thought to herself and she unconsciously smiled. She could imagine vividly the announcement day that she won first place and Oliver got second place. They visited the museum, and strangely there were only two of them. They strolled over the museum and adored those masterpieces, with Oliver grabbing her hands. And Lucy didn’t know where the manga-ish pink and glittery atmosphere did come from, as if they were on her favourite shoujo manga. Lucy’s vast imagination suddenly brought her to a fancy candlelight dinner near the shore, with Oliver looked at her adoringly.

Lucy closed her eyes. What a view. It was so nice until she forgot that she was already in the car with Dad and Rosy. They were heading home.

Rosy, who caught her smiling, whispered, “Is there any good news?” Lucy opened her eyes and she stopped smiling. Blush on her cheeks faded instantly, and she made her face looked tough as usual.

“Nah, I just feel like I succeeded in beating Hawkins’ questions,”

“Yeah, I know you can do it,” she said so while leaning her back.

In her mind, Lucy began to plan the concept of her painting as well as the medium she wanted to use. Once they home, she went straight to their room and began to doodle on blank papers. She spent one hour to think about her painting design, and she tried to paint it with her watercolour. She was quite satisfied with the result, although it was only a rehearsal. She stared at her drawing of a golden-feathered eagle carrying an olive branch and many flying doves, carrying the same plants, surrounded it. It was relevant to the theme of the competition: “The role of Mason Bread in keeping the peace of the world”. Her school had been known to the world in educating many peacekeepers, like armies, doctors, and medical supports, as well as other great people who had a major role in peacekeeping. The golden eagle acted as the leader of the pigeons, and it was the same as Mason Bread which became the frontier of high-quality educational institutions.

Lucy smiled. This rehearsal and its philosophy might be enough for the competitions. Enough to win the first prize and win Oliver’s heart. Lucy blushed shyly while thinking like that. She couldn’t wait for the D-Day of competition.

-----000-----

Finally, the D-Day came. Lucy had packed her stuff in her backpack and was ready to leave. She looked at her twin who slept on her bed peacefully. She then closed the door and walked quietly to school. Dad couldn’t take her since he went out of the town to do research. Mom was busy taking care of her restaurant since there was a celebrity reviewing her workplace. The only choice for Lucy was to walk to school.

When she arrived, there are so many people there. The banner entitled “Mason Bread Creative Week” was hung on the gate. So many people carrying their art equipment: wooden log, canvas stand, and so on. She searched for the painting room amongst the crowd, and she found Oliver standing next to it. She hurried up to catch him.

“Oliver!”

The boy turned his head. “Oh! Finally, you’re here. I’ve been waiting for you. Now let’s go, they will open the competition,”

Lucy smiled. Knowing that Oliver was waiting for her warmed her heart.

The two then entered the room and sat in their seat according to their number. There was a blank, A3 sized white paper on every table. Lucy put her backpack next to the table and started to imagine her rehearsal drawing vividly in mind. The committee waited for all first group participants to enter the room. Since there were 168 participants, the competition would be held twice, in the morning and afternoon. Lucy and Oliver were registered as the morning participants.

When all morning participants were already in the room, the committee, Mrs. Lawrence started to speak with a microphone.

“Alright, ladies and gentlemen, since all the participants have assembled here, we are about to open the competition. Remember, you guys have 2 hours to finish it. Don’t forget the detailed requirements about the painting, like the theme, philosophy, and the medium. Well, I wish nothing but break a leg to you all. Now… begin!”  

Together with the echo of Mrs. Lawrence’s voice, Lucy focused on her drawing. Her eyes were firing with determination. She smirked.

You will see me, sister.

-----000-----

Three days passed and the announcement day came. Lucy couldn’t focus on every teacher’s speech. She couldn’t wait for the announcement after school. She prepared her heart for two possibilities. If she won, she would hug Oliver and kiss his cheek. She laughed a little while imagining it. But if she lost… Lucy changed her face to normal. She stopped smiling.

If I have to lose, that’s fine with me. As long as I don’t lose to her.

But her bad prediction was, unfortunately, right.

There, in the information boards, many people were gathering. There were so many people until Lucy had to push herself a little so that she could see what was happening. Oliver was in the crowd as well, but Lucy didn’t pay attention to him and focused more on the board. On the very recent posters glued by Mrs. Lawrence, there are three names of the champions. Lucy scrutinized every name.

In the third place, there was her name: Lucy-Ann Thompson.

In the second place, there was her crush’s name: Oliver Craig.

And in the first place–Lucy couldn’t believe her eyes–was her twin’s name: Rosy-Anne Thompson.

What?

“Huh, isn’t it Rosy? Congrats, Rosy, you won again!”

“You fool, that’s not Rosy,”

“Huh, you mean, it’s Lu–I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to–,”

“So, Rosy won again, huh? She is indeed splendid,”

“Yeah, and look at the third place, it’s her twin!”

“Wow, I didn’t expect that the bodyguard will finally got the place. I mean, she’s not that ski–,”

“Ssshh! She can hear you!”

And many more comments about Rosy’s victory and her position in the third place.

Lucy couldn’t stand there any longer. She turned around and ran. Oliver who saw her running calling her. But Lucy wouldn’t stop her legs from meeting with Mrs. Lawrence. She needed to know how Rosy could win the painting competition. She rushed to Mrs. Lawrence’s office and she found no one. Instead, she found a list of painting competition participants. She read it carefully. Her name was on number 11, and she found her twin’s name on the second paper. Her twin’s number was 156. So basically Lucy was the morning participant, while Rosy was the afternoon participant.

Lucy stared at the list, still not believing that her twin really joined the competition. She never showed any ability related to art, moreover to painting. Lucy was so curious, was Rosy’s painting indeed that great until she won the competition? But only thinking about that, Lucy became so dizzy. There were too many feelings and thoughts in herself.

Well, I guess I’m not hugging and kissing him.

Lucy went straight home, without waiting for Dad to pick her up. She walked fast through little alleys and spoke nothing to anyone. She didn’t want to meet anyone, especially Rosy.  She just wanted to be alone. Once she reached home, she directly went up to the attic. The attic had been her private place when she was sad and angry. The absence of parents for taking care of Rosy made her rely on herself, including when she was down.

Lucy hugged her legs and cried in silence. Her tears wetted her knees. She still couldn’t believe that she lost to Rosy again. The worse was, she was not in second place, but in third place. Lucy wiped her tears. She thought she could beat her this time. She thought she had exerted all her abilities in art to defeat Rosy. The fact that she couldn’t go together with Oliver on the museum trip made her sad even more. It was Rosy who would go together with Oliver on that trip, not her. But still, she couldn’t believe this kind of outcome.

Why? In all possibilities, why it should be her, God? Is there any chance for me? Just a chance…

Lucy stayed still for a while. The idea of switching places was impossible. They never did it since Rosy was a sportive kid and she hated any kind of cheating act. She was rigid with rules. For her, rules existed to be obeyed. She would get what she earned, and the one who would enjoy the result was herself, not the others. So, Lucy started to believe that indeed it was her twin and her crush, who would go to the museum. There was a huge denial in her heart, but she knew that it wouldn’t help the situation became better. So she took her phone out and activated it. She inactivated it to avoid bomb chats from her parents. Soon a dozen messages popped out, and she just ignored it. She typed a message to Mom without replying to her worried messages, saying that she was sorry for not attending celebration dinner and she would come home late.

Lucy headed to a café in the area she didn’t know. It was still around neighbourhood, only that she never explored the area before. A cup of chamomile tea lied on the table and she just stared blankly at the live music. The band was good; the singer could hit the note perfectly. She was about to order another cup when she heard a voice.

“What is the bodyguard doing here without her princess?”

Lucy turned her head to the voice source. Becca, her classmate, sat not too far from her table. Her blue eyes stared Lucy haughtily. She formed a humiliating smile. “Is she fired from her job?”

“Shut up,” Lucy responded shortly and cold. She didn’t want to talk about Rosy or anything related to her. Her purpose to go there was to forget her sadness and her failure. Remembering Rosy just risen up her wound.

Becca still smiled. “May I sit there?”

“Whatever, just don’t annoy me,”

She dragged a chair in front of Lucy. “I know what you are thinking right now,” Lucy stared at her sharply. “It hurts, I understand. Knowing your crush will be going with his girlfriend–oh yeah, you can call her girlfriend–is just… pain,”

Lucy squinted. “What do you mean?” Other than that, how could she know that Oliver was her crush? And did she mention “his girlfriend”? It means… Rosy was Oliver’s girlfriend?

Becca laughed. “Come on, I know that you like him. Oliver Craig, right? I can read your expression, though. Under that thick face, I know you blushed like a soft girl,” She continued, “Unfortunately you always lose from her, even in the love life,”

Lucy gave a glare to Becca. Before Lucy hit her, Becca took out her phone and put it on the table. “Check these out,” Lucy grabbed it and she went speechless. There was a photo, and in it, she saw Oliver grabbing a girl’s hand. They smiled at each other. Swiped left, she saw Oliver kissed the girl and in the other pic, Oliver hugged her. Lucy felt like looking into a mirror when she saw the girl’s face. Who else had a similar face like her if it’s not Rosy.

“Are you kidding me?” Lucy’s voice trembled. She couldn’t believe what she saw. “How could you–“

“I took these photos yesterday. They visited a park near my house. And these are real, I’m not faking it,”

Tears were falling down from Lucy’s eyes again. How could this happen, and I know nothing about this? For how long?

“How?” Becca smiled, but there was something in her smile. Something Lucy didn’t know.

Lucy was silent for a moment.  A second later she rose up.

“Enough. What do you want from me? If you just want to mock me like that, you better get going now or I won’t restrain myself,” Lucy cracked her knuckles, staring at Becca fiercely. The addressee stared back at her without fear.

“I’m not mocking you. Instead, I want to offer you cooperation,”

Lucy’s eyebrow rose. “Cooperation?”

Becca smiled cunningly. “Yes, cooperation,”

-----000-----

Lucy stared at her twin who laid unconsciously on a white bed. She stood up next to the bed and observed her twin’s situation. A breathing apparatus was attached to her face and body. Rosy slept like a princess. Her sleeping face seemed sluggish, but still, her innocent aura came out as if she was still so alive.

Lucy looked at her surroundings. A nurse who periodically checked Rosy’s condition had done her job and she smiled at Lucy and her parents. She passed Mom and Dad who blankly stared at Rosy. Mom’s eyes couldn’t get more swollen; she cried for about four hours until tears didn’t come out of her eyes. Dad leaned his back to the sofa and seemed so tired. At a glance, Lucy got the impression that her parents were getting older. Lucy sighed.  

The atmosphere of this room was gloomier than Mr. Hawkins's eye bags.

A vibration in her pocket shocked Lucy. She took her phone and there was a name on the screen, calling her. She looked at her parents and got out of the room. The phone kept vibrating until she reached the hospital’s balcony and picked it up.

“Hello,”

“How’s her condition?”

“You knew it. I don’t need to explain it,”

“Hahaha, it’s good then. Are you happy, Lucy? Everything went according to the plan,”

“Well, I…” and with that, Lucy’s mind flew to a few days earlier.

-----000-----

Lucy stared Becca in doubt. “Tell me what you mean,”

“Simple,” Becca said. “Let’s work together to put her to death,”

Lucy gasped. “Isn’t it too harsh?” Killing someone was never in her option when it came to hate someone.

“No,” Becca leaned her back and stared Lucy deeply. “It’s worth what she did to us,” A few seconds later Lucy caught a sorrow in her eyes.

“Lucas was my boyfriend,” Becca said before Lucy asked. “He really loved me until he met Rosy. Since their meeting, he gradually left me,”

There was silence. The music from the band filled up the gap, but the love song meant nothing to two broken-hearted girls.

“Until one day, Rosy left him. He still chased Rosy to reconcile, but Rosy didn’t want him anymore. He was so stressed and I was there for him. I tried to ensure him that she had lost her feelings to him, but he didn’t listen to me.

Next thing I knew, he died. Committing suicide. Lucas’ mom blamed me for his death. I tried to explain it to her, but she didn’t want to listen to me. She never knew that I wasn’t the cause. She never knew that her son betrayed me and I tried to keep him alive. Rosy didn’t come to his burial and she never apologizes to me or to Lucas's mom, until now,”

Becca took out a cigarette and lighted it up. The smoke flew passed Lucy’s shocked face. She finally knew that the boy named Lucas was Becca’s boyfriend. Indeed Rosy once told her that there was a crazy boy called Lucas chasing her. She recalled the shy smiles and blushing in Rosy’s face. She never knew that boy committed suicide since Rosy never told her. Lucy looked at Becca who was smoking casually. She thought for a while.

Rosy had taken her happiness. She took Mom and Dad, her friends, and her crush. She made her as if she was the unwanted child in her own house. She made her feel bad about being herself. But those pain that she felt were nothing compared to Becca’s. She never knew that Rosy, behind her good reputation, could be very cruel. She stole another woman’s man, caused him to death–indirectly–and she didn’t even apologize. She made Becca’s image very bad. Rosy… Rosy deserved to be punished.

“Alright,” Lucy eventually said. “How do we do it?”

Becca smiled. She took something out of her pocket after she turned off her cig. She clenched her fist. “I knew that you went here alone, and I decided to follow you, carrying this around.” Secretly she put it on the table with her handkerchief as the cover. It was a little glass bottle with little chunks of meat in it.  Lucy kept her posture erected. She had the feeling that the contents were forbidden and she didn’t want to make others suspicious if she looked at it closely.

“There are some tiny pieces of puffer fish’s heart in this bottle. They are very toxic, the second most powerful toxin in the world. I got it from my father’s lab. I took the one which got the least number of heart pieces of all bottles, so they didn’t notice it. Yeah, I guess,” Becca explained, seemed didn’t care.

Lucy looked at the bottle in amaze and fear. “Just put a few of these bad boys on her food, and they will put her to comma before she dies,” Becca looked at her. “Can you, Lucy?”

Lucy widened her eyes and shifted her view to the bottle. This little thing was a killer. Would she have the heart to kill her twin with this?

“Think about the pain she made for you. How she took all of the things you’ve always wanted,” Becca said while staring deeply at Lucy. “And imagine being blamed for someone’s death and being hated for it,”

Lucy thought for a while. Basically those were Becca’s problem, but she couldn’t stand what Rosy did to Becca. It was just too cruel of her.

“Follow the instruction I wrote in this paper, and you’ll be safe,”

Becca then rose from the table, and without waiting for Lucy’s agreement, she disappeared after she got out of the entrance door. Lucy stayed still in her chair. She read the little paper which was tied up with the bottle. Her eyes moved along Becca’s handwriting. She closed her eyes and opened them. Slowly she stood up and walked out of the café.

“Time to go home,” she said to herself. She had one job. Slowly she patted her pocket, where she kept the bottle.

After arrived at home, she did precisely what Becca had written. Before that, she made sure that everyone was already sleeping. She cut the heart into smaller cuts and inserted them into Rosy’s favourite wheat bread. The thickness of the bread really helped Lucy to hide the chunks. She put them inside the very upmost stack of bread; Mom had a habit to give Rosy the first and second stack of bread. Lucy could guarantee if that habit didn’t change since she had been seeing that as long as she lived in this house. Carefully she finished her job and cleaned the tools she used as clean as she could. She washed the bottle and covered it with a cloth. She would destroy it later and she had burned down the instruction paper. Quickly but quietly, Lucy went to sleep. She was both thrilled and afraid to see what would happen the next day. Obviously, she was happy to imagine Rosy and Oliver’s trip to the museum was cancelled.

She couldn't believe that she was enjoying every scene of Rosy’s poisoning the next morning.

-----000-----

“Hm? What is it, Lucy? Come on, just admitted that you’re happy,” a voice on the other side sounded to hold her laughter.

Lucy didn’t reply. She just smiled. “Four hours later. Am I right?”

“Yeah. Let’s say our last goodbye to her,” Lucy could hear a maniac laugh following that utterance.

Lucy hung up the phone and put it in her pocket. A view on the 7th floor of this hospital was amazing. She could see her house as well as the old white oak tree and their childhood cupboard in the backyard from this altitude. She stared at the cupboard and the bench.

Two little girls in blue and pink gowns were playing tea party and laughed happily. Lucy smiled hollowly.

“Of course my sister, we will be happy together as always…” said the girl in blue gown.

“Right, Rosy?” Lucy climbed the thick glass fence in that balcony. She smiled with her tears falling down. “You were happy, and I am happy,”

A second later a girl’s body landed on the boulevard with a loud crash. Blood flowed out of Lucy’s body.

[pug-bitch]

That’s not why I’m going (35)

Breathless

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Drake Walker x Amara Suarez

Rating: some foul language, some extremely suggestive, and a VERY steamy scene right at the beginning of the chapter. This is absolutely NOT appropriate for people under 18. Disturbing material is alluded to, regarding Amara’s past.

Word count: about 5,300! (let me know if the ‘keep reading’ cutoff isn’t working well!) I know it’s longer than other chapter but I just couldn’t help myself… a lot is happening here and I didn’t feel like ending on a true cliffhanger, even though there’s plenty of things that need to happen in the next chapters!

Notes: This picks up the next morning, the morning of the rehearsal dinner, starting with Amara’s POV. This is very intense, but it is in no way the end of trouble… 

*****

Amara wakes up to Drake’s kisses, a trail of them, on her neck and collarbone. She turns around to face him and their lips crash together. ‘Morning, baby,’ he whispers.

She smiles. This is what she wants out of life. She’ll figure out the rest later. Jobs, money, family, which country to settle down in, that all can wait. She kisses him deeper.

She throws her arms around his neck and draws him closer, always closer, almost like they’re one. She feels his heartbeat against her chest. His hands roam all over her body, their legs are intertwined, as they’re both still naked from last night’s lovemaking. She feels his cock harden against her, as his kisses become more and more urgent. She feels him moan against her kiss. She needs him.

He positions himself on top of her, and starts kissing her neck again, then down to her breasts. He pays special attention to them, as per usual. She moans, ‘Mmm Drake…’

He looks at her and smiles, a beautiful, loving, hungry smile, one that’s driven her crazy for many, many weeks now. She guides him back to kissing her lips. She needs to feel his weight on her, his heartbeat, his warmth. His hand has now wandered between her legs, teasing her, lightly caressing her folds and her clit. She shivers and bucks her hips. He gets the message and slides one finger inside her, slowly. She kisses him harder, their tongues pressed against each other. He draws circles around her clit with his thumb, and she decides she can’t wait now, she needs him inside her completely, she wants them to lose themselves in each other. She gets on top of him in one swift motion, and notices the still-hungry, excited smile on Drake’s face. He bites his lips as she lowers herself onto him and takes all his length inside her. They both moan in unison, and she rides him slowly.

*****

As they’re lying in their post-sex glory, Drake is absentmindedly playing with Amara’s curls, her head in the nook of his arm. He kisses her head. ‘I love you,’ he whispers. He wonders if it’s too much, all the professions of love, and then quickly realizes that it’s not --no one ever regretted saying ‘I love you’ too much. It’s the opposite that’s dangerous. She looks up, a satisfied smile on her face, and says ‘I love you, too, Drake Walker.’

They get in the shower, still tangled in each other, still kissing non-stop and letting their hands wander on each other. They end up making love again, in the shower, standing up, in a state of urgency that’s not really one, but urgently nonetheless. As they get out, he looks at her intently, the way she dries her hair and puts on her makeup is bewitching. He’s never been with anyone so intimately before, he’d never met anyone that he wanted to let in this much. Until her. Until he couldn’t help but let Amara in, he had no choice, they were drawn to each other like magnets, their hearts aching when they were far, and exploding when they were near.

He wraps her in a warm hug, both facing the mirror. ‘You’re so beautiful,’ he whispers in her ear.

She grins. ‘So are you, Walker. I never want this morning to end.’

They both get downstairs, where Max, Bertrand, and Hana are sitting with a cup of coffee in hand. They greet them, and Drake asks, ‘Do you guys want me to cook up some brunch?’

They all nod enthusiastically. Bertrand adds, ‘That would be wonderful. I’m still impressed with that barbecue you crafted the other day. You have a real talent, Drake.’

He blushes. ‘Thanks, Bertrand. I appreciate it. So, is everyone ok with eggs benedict?’ 

They all cheer, and he makes his way to the kitchen. Cooking will help calm his nerves. He’s heading to the palace before everyone, as he texted Liam yesterday to ask if he wanted to grab coffee at some point. He felt bad about leaving his friend be, when he’s going through a few major changes in his life: he’s choosing a wife, he’s becoming king, and his father is terminally ill. Still, he can’t bring himself to endure more than a coffee. Everything is too much: the secret he’s keeping from Liam, Liam’s own attitude towards Amara, his weird and sudden closeness with Madeleine when he was bitching about her just a few days ago, everything. Too much distance between them. Maybe they can meet somewhere in the middle someday, who knows. But for now, it’s gonna be a coffee.

*****

Olivia finally makes her appearance downstairs, looking happy and rested, right the second everyone is sitting at the table to enjoy brunch. ‘Liv, finally!’ Maxwell smiles.

‘Morning, bitches,’ she says with a smile.

‘Where’s Rashad?’ Max asks excitedly.

Olivia’s eyes meet Amara’s. She says, ‘He went home last night. Dropped me off after the restaurant and a couple of drinks. He says thank you for the hospitality.’

Amara nods. ‘Did you have a good time?’

Liv’s face lights up, but she catches herself and puts on a neutral expression again. ‘Yes, it was nice. Food was great, and we...had a  nice talk.’

Maxwell opens his mouth to say something, but Amara makes eye contact with him and makes a face to dissuade him from being pushy. He stops. Amara smiles, happy that her friend took her advice to take her time. 

*****

Drake zips up his duffle, ready to hit the road to get to the palace on time. He joins the gang downstairs, where they are having another cup of coffee and talking about life.

‘Hey guys,’ he says to them all, ‘I’m gonna get going. I’ll see you all at the press conference?’

Bertrand gets up and offers him his hand. ‘Yes, you will. Hopefully, we can make our father proud.’

Drake shakes Bertrand’s hand vigorously. ‘Of course you will. Good luck, Bertrand.’

He opens his arms to Max, who wraps him in a bear hug. ‘See you later, Drake. Thanks for being here with us, and for singing Backstreet Boys.’

Drake chuckles. ‘My pleasure. I had a lot of fun. Good luck to you too, Max. You will both be amazing.’

Drake gives Hana a warm hug, and when Liv’s turn comes, he hesitates, and she rolls her eyes. ‘No. You can say goodbye from here, Walker.’

He laughs, ‘Alright, see you later, Nevrakis.’ He turns to Amara. ‘Suarez…’

She gets up from her chair as fast as she can and runs into his arms. His heart stops for a split second. No more sneaking around until after it’s all done. And then… they may need to run away together, and it will be hard, but oh so worth it. He kisses her head several times. 

She pulls away slowly. ‘I’ll see you later. Drive safe.’

On the drive, all he can think about is her. He’s going to have to keep his poker face on during coffee with Liam, only two little days and they can maybe, just maybe, be free. 

Better not think about it too hard, you never know. He’s never been very superstitious, but this seems like the prudent thing to do. Just focus on right now, on getting through the whole charade. Thankfully, the press conference for the Beaumonts before dinner will be nice and a touching tribute to their father. But after that… he’s gonna have to curtsy to everyone, and pretend to care what Neville has to say, pretend that Madeleine is a normal person and not a sociopath who participated in outing his friend… 

Eyes on the road. Almost there. 

*****

‘Drake, hi!’ Liam greets him with his unnatural, princely smile.

‘Hi Liam, good to see you.’

The two men hug, but Drake’s heart is not in it. He can’t help but compare this moment to the sincerity of Max’s hug this morning. No comparison possible. How did that happen? When did Liam become such a stranger?

They sit on the balcony together, and a staff member, Thomas, brings them coffee. Drake thanks him profusely, while Liam waves him away with one swift gesture. 

‘How do you feel, Li?’ Drake inquires.

Liam sighs. ‘I feel okay. I’m still unsure of a bunch of things, but some of them are a bit clearer now.’

Drake nods, afraid to ask. ‘That’s great. Did you make your choice?’

Liam chuckles. ‘Wouldn’t you like to know? Well, not quite, unfortunately. I have a lot to think about in the next few hours. A lot of moving parts. And I have to consider Cordonia, it’s not just me anymore.’

Drake nods quietly. He’s not completely sure what this means, but he has a vague idea, and it doesn’t sound very good.

*****

Bertrand adjusts his tie, which has little squids on it. He tries to will his body to stop sweating so much, but to no avail. His forehead is, he presumes, shinier than ever, as beads of sweat roll down his face. This is an important moment for his family, the family he’s been responsible for, ever since his father’s death. He takes a deep breath, turns his head to the left to look at his little brother, who smiles at him reassuringly. Maxxie puts a comforting hand on his shoulder, and Bertrand wonders why he’s kept him at arm’s length for so long. 

In the audience, he sees the people he’s grown to view as friends. Lovely Hana, supportive Amara, and fierce Olivia. Three remarkable women. And Drake, whom he had, at some point in his life, hoped to call brother-in-law. That ship had sailed, of course, after Savannah had left without a trace, but maybe now, Drake could simply be his friend.

Bertrand makes eye contact with Liam, who nods at him that it’s time to get this show on the road. Liam turns to the audience and says, ‘People of Cordonia. Fellow nobles. We are gathered here today to listen to the Duke of Ramsford, Lord Bertrand Beaumont, who has a communication to share with us, on behalf of himself, his house, and his brother, Maxwell Beaumont. Duke Ramsford, the floor is yours.’

The crowd erupts in applause, and Bertrand feels like he might faint. He can’t act like a coward, not now, not when the reputation of his House is on the line. So, he swallows his nervousness, and walks up to the podium. He clears his throat.

‘People of Cordonia. Your Royal Highness. Thank you for providing me and my brother the platform to address you all. Most of you might have known our beloved father, Barthélémy Beaumont, whose legacy I intend to protect. A few years ago, after he passed, it was brought to my attention by an ill-intentioned person that my father was harboring a secret. Ever since then, this person, who used to be employed by our House, blackmailed me by threatening to reveal that secret.’ The crowd gasps. Bertrand continues. ‘But today, with the love and support of my brother, and of our friends, I have come to realize that there was absolutely no reason to give in to the blackmail, because my father’s secret was not shameful at all. In fact, it is something to be celebrated, which we will do from now on.’ He gulps down, turns to Maxwell, who is giving him a reassuring smile. ‘Our father, although he loved our dear mother Hélène very much, was gay. He married his best friend and went on to be a wonderful father and husband. But, as it turns out, he was in a long-term relationship with a man named Gustav, and our mother was aware of the situation. It was simply a different time, and our father was afraid of ruining his reputation. But now, today and all the days to come, I want us all to remember Barthélémy Beaumont as more than a scared and secretive man. He was a man who did not know how to celebrate himself, and had he been young during our time, I like to think that he would have been himself, proudly. So, in the spirit of honoring his memory, in a proud way, because Maxwell and I are very proud of being his sons, we have decided to support an LGBT+ charity on behalf of our father, and of his longtime partner Gustav. We will make an initial donation in their names, and we will keep supporting the charity in the best way we can. The details are in the flyers under everyone’s chair. Thank you so much for listening. To Cordonia!’ 

The crowd claps harder and harder, as Bertrand gets back to his spot next to his brother.

*****

Maxwell’s hands are numb from all the clapping. His brain, on the other hand, is on overload. All of a sudden, all in less than a split second, he’s made his decision. He grabs Bertrand’s arm and whispers in his ear ‘Don’t be mad, I’m going in.’

Before Bertrand can answer, Maxwell is on the podium, where Liam had already opened his mouth to offer closing remarks. Maxwell cuts in and apologizes in a whisper. Liam smiles at him and gestures for him to take the floor.

He stands in front of the microphone, his head spinning. In the first row, he can see his friends, Amara, Hana, Drake, and Liv. Amara seems to know what he’s about to do, her eyes are wet with tears already, but her smile is wide. Max nods at her and starts talking.

‘People of Cordonia. I apologize for cutting in. My brother is the spokesperson for our House and I endorse a hundred percent of his statements. I just wanted --in fact, needed-- to add a statement of my own.’ He turns around to look at Bertrand, who has a slightly worried smile on his face. ‘Today, we celebrate our father’s life, and his love. We celebrate that there are no more secrets in my family. But to do so without speaking up would be hypocritical of me. I want to break the cycle today. The cycle of silence. I want no more secrets, I want no more shame, even if shame is not the reason why I never spoke up about it. I just have never been bothered with telling the world who I am, because I figured, I’m already who I am all of the time.’ The crowd laughs, and Maxwell chuckles too. ‘Anyways, obviously this isn’t scripted, so I’m really sorry about the bumbling… The truth is, even if I am myself every day, today made me realize that it is important for me to use the platform that I have, the privilege that I am able to enjoy, to speak up about issues that a lot of people struggle with. Identity issues. The truth is, I am bisexual. My family and friends have known for a long time, but today it’s time that I tell the world. I am out and proud. Thank you for listening.’ He regains his original spot hastily, before he can scope out the crowd’s reaction. 

But as soon as he turns away, the many claps and cheers do not lie. Tears flow to his eyes, as he walks towards his brother who, arms wide open, offers him a proud hug.

*****

‘Maxwell!’ Amara yells out once everyone has dispersed. Max spots her and dives right into her arms for a tight hug. ‘Max, I’m so proud of you, that was incredible.’

He wipes a tear from his eyes. ‘Thank you, love. That was a spur of the moment, to say the least.’ 

Hana and Drake hug Max as well, and Liv whispers to Amara, ‘We need to take our place at the rehearsal dinner table, the King will give a toast shortly. Let’s grab Lee and let’s get it over with, I don’t want to have the last seat and have to be near one of those bitches.’

Amara nods and gestures to Hana that it’s time to take their seat. 

They walk towards the suitor table, and stand behind their chairs, Liv between Amara and Hana. The other ladies arrive shortly, and so do the young noblemen --Max, Bertrand, Rashad, Neville, plus Drake. Amara notices that there is an empty seat at the guys’ table, but shakes it off. Maybe Kiara’s brother is joining, after all. He does, sometimes.

Kiara’s parents sit at a table with Penelope’s parents and Madeleine’s mother. 

Liam walks in, followed by the King and Queen. A staff member gives Liam a paper prompt. Amara notices that he looks puzzled about it, but King Constantine nods to him and gestures for him to read it aloud.

‘Typical Liam,’ Liv rolls her eyes. ‘He can’t even write his own fucking speech,’ she whispers in Amara’s ear. Amara nods worriedly.

Liam clears his throat and the crowd goes quiet. He gives them a bright smile.

‘Good evening to everyone. I am pleased to open the Rehearsal Dinner, a special event meant for everyone to relax and enjoy their time before the Decision Ball tomorrow.’ He reads on, his smile becoming more and more muted. ‘Tonight, before we start, I would like to call in a special guest, someone who will represent one of our dear suitors. Most of the ladies present tonight have enjoyed the presence of families and friends, but one of them has not had this pleasure, her home being far away.’ He gulps down and pauses for a split second.

Amara’s head spins as she slowly grips bits and pieces of what is happening. The room around her goes blurry, and she grabs Liv’s arm.

Liam continues hesitantly. ‘It is my pleasure to invite this special someone to join us, as someone who finally decided to--’ he pauses but keeps going, ‘to forgive his sister-in-law Lady Amara for a terrible mistake she’s made, thus showing all of us that forgiveness is everything.’ Liam’s smile is now completely gone as he reads the rest of the announcement that the staff member gave him. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Mr. Michael Hansen-Suarez, from New York City!’

Amara is now fully shaking, her whole body unresponsive, as Liv is holding her up by her arm. She may be talking to her, Amara can’t hear a thing. All she sees is Michael’s face. He comes in, a very worried look on his face, like a deer in headlights, but nothing compared to Amara’s state of mind right now. 

All she sees is a blur, and her breath catches. A terrible mistake she’s made. It’s her fault. Everyone agrees. Sergio died because of her. She feels tears coming out of her eyes, but she can’t feel anything else. Even her breathing, she can’t feel. Is she breathing? Liv is now fully supporting her weight, she can’t hold herself up at all. 

She hears Liv say to her ‘Let’s get some air,’ and next thing she knows, her legs are carrying her outside.

*****

Michael shakes himself free of the arm of the staff member who guided him here. How could he have been this naive? Of course it was a setup. Of course Amara wasn’t ready. He’d been more than willing to listen to the person he had talked to on the phone, a young woman who had told him that it was customary for families to come support suitors on the last day, and he ate it up when she told him that Amara had talked about Sergio and about how she would love for Michael to come. The woman had told him that it was a surprise, but that Amara was ready.

Of course it was a fucking lie. His lip twitches as he witnesses his sister-in-law --his sister-- being taken away by a friend, completely breathless, in a bout of PTSD. Of course she would react this way. Of course she had a horrible reaction to the fucked up speech that fancy sash guy had delivered. Fuck, he thinks. He needs to go after her. 

Ignoring the commotion and the whispers around him, he walks towards the exit that he saw Amara and the redhead go through. More people were following after the two of them: a beautiful petite Asian woman and a handsome, dark-haired man. Michael has to follow them. Who fucking cares about what everyone is saying around them? He doesn’t even know anyone in this fucked up place, what does he care? 

He’s walking fast, faster than the old guy can call security, but someone else is running after him. Another dark-haired man in a blue suit. ‘Michael, right?’ the guy whispers.

Michael can only nod, completely unable to talk.

The man smiles sadly and whispers, ‘Come with me this way.’ He leads him through the exit, onto a different room.

*****

Drake is shaking with fury. He and Hana followed Liv and Amara out right away. Hana was visibly shaken too, judging from the way she was holding Drake’s arm shakily on their way out. ‘Fuck,’ she whispered. Drake had never heard her curse before.

Who had done this shit to Amara? Bastien obviously knew. Drake makes a mental note to go spit his venom in his face later, and to tell him how ashamed his father would be of his protégé. But now, the priority is Amara. That fucking speech… Why did Liam go through with it? He was obviously given it by a staff member --Thomas-- and looked shocked as he was reading it. Why the fuck would he continue? 

‘Amara,’ he says as he spots her and Liv on the balcony. ‘Amara, look at me. Breathe.’ 

He takes both of her hands in his, and kneels in front of her, breathing in and out with her. Liv is rubbing her back, and Hana is tracking down a bottle of water.

‘Fuck,’ Liv spits out angrily. ‘What the fuck happened?’

Amara is breathing heavily, tears streaming down her face. ‘It’s--it’s my fault, they’re right, I--’

Liv cuts her off. ‘No. Listen to me, Suarez, these people don’t know what they’re talking about. They’re taking advantage of your grief, and Michael’s grief, to break you.’ She looks Amara straight in the eye. ‘Because you’re a threat. You’re strong, you’re amazing, a lot of people don’t like that. They tried to break me, and Lee, and now you. Do not give them the satisfaction. You can breathe. You know what that means.’

Amara nods, still shaking. Her palms are sweaty against Drake’s. At this very moment he doesn’t give a shit who sees, and who might assume they’re together. Right now, he wants to sweep her away. ‘Amara,’ he whispers to her, pressing his forehead against her. ‘Liv is right. They’re trying to break you. They won’t succeed, do you hear me?’

She nods weakly. 

‘Babe,’ he whispers, ‘I love you, we all love you here. We’re here. Lean on us.’

She starts crying even harder. ‘I’m sorry, I’m such a burden--’

‘Stop,’ he says firmly. ‘You are the light of my fucking life. You’re everything.’ He starts to feel tears in his eyes but powers through. ‘Liv here is growing a fucking heart because of how amazing you are.’

Liv scoffs. ‘Please. I know you’re trying to make a point, but this is just hurtful.’

Drake continues. ‘Michael is here because he wants to see you. Don’t listen to the lies that the court feeds us.’

Hana nods, and gives Amara some water. ‘It’s true. I saw his face, Amara, and he looked disgusted by the speech. I can guarantee you that it wasn’t his intention to trap you. He was obviously set up.’

Amara takes another sip from the water, but spills half of it by shaking. ‘R--really? But he--he hates me, it’s my fault, it’s my mistake, I ruined his life, and Callie’s, and--’

Drake takes her hands again. ‘Snap out of it, baby. Please. You know in your heart it’s not true. Think of your dad. Think of what Jorge said. You have to stop punishing yourself. You’ve done nothing wrong. It was out of your control. You’ve suffered enough. Please.’

She falls to the ground, and puts her head in her arms. Through her sobs, she says, ‘I’m sorry, guys, I ruined everything, they’re gonna think I’m weak, and a horrible person.’

Liv snorts, ‘They? Who fucking cares what these inbred bastards think? We’re here, and like Walker said, you can lean on us. Come on.’

Amara looks up, her makeup is completely running down her cheeks. ‘I need to get out of here. Can we go somewhere?’

Drake nods. ‘Absofuckinglutely.’

*****

‘Take a seat,’ Max gestures to an empty seat in the conference room.

Michael hesitantly sits down. ‘Um… I need to see Amara.’

Maxwell sits next to him and holds out his hand. ‘I’m Max. Amara’s friend.’

Michael shakes his hand, his brow still furrowed. ‘Nice to meet you. I’m Michael. I need to see if she’s ok, I didn’t mean to cause this, I’m such an idiot…’

‘No, you’re not. You’ve been set up, that’s all. They can be pretty cunning at court. My money is on Madeleine, is she the one who contacted you?’

Michael nods absentmindedly. ‘Maybe. She didn’t really give me her name, she just said she was friends with Amara and wanted to make sure she had family here to support her. That she was talking about me and how much she wanted to reconnect.’ He rubs the bridge of his nose. ‘Fuck. I’m an idiot. I was blinded by the possibility to have my sister back. I said some very hurtful things a while back, I’m not proud of it…’

Max puts a reassuring hand on Michael’s shoulder. ‘You were hurting. No one is blaming you. I’m really sorry for your loss, Michael.’

Michael’s lip quivers. ‘Thank you. I shouldn’t have blamed her. It destroyed her life, too.’

Max nods calmly. ‘Well, if you must know, she’s been slowly getting better. We love her, Michael. She’s amazing. She has so much to give. I’m hopeful that she’ll be better eventually, she’s on the path to recovery, but we can’t let this be a setback. She’s not ready to see you. Not yet. Do you understand?’

Michael nods solemnly. ‘I do.’

*****

Liam’s nostrils have been flaring up ever since Amara had been taken out of the room, in sheer panic. What the hell had just happened? He knows nothing of her life, besides the fact that she used to be a cop. Could this have anything to do with it? In any case, this isn’t good. She looked devastated when he gave that stupid speech. Why couldn’t he have stopped himself from reading it? 

His father had calmed the crowd down after the incident, and had urged everyone to start their dinner. But Liam’s heart is not in it.

‘Father,’ he whispers, ‘I should go check on Amara.’

Constantine audibly sighs. ‘Liam, five people ran after her, and Duke Ramsford has been on his phone since then, I’m sure she’s ok.’

Liam nods but is not convinced. ‘Who invited this man? Do you know?’

He shakes his head. ‘No, son. believe it or not, I am not in charge of the seating chart.’

‘Father, I think we should look into this. It’s very suspicious, whoever did this knew she would have a negative reaction--’

‘Speaking of, Liam, this is in no way an acceptable behavior for a potential Queen. Having a panic attack because her brother-in-law shows up? Making a scene and disrupting dinner? The Queen and I are appalled, and you should be too.’

Liam scoffs. ‘Father, with all due respect, I think this is unreasonable. She was obviously triggered and I don’t think she’s well. Frankly, I’m very worried about her.’

Constantine slams his fork on the table. ‘That’s the problem, Liam. While you’re worried about a Mexican woman who can’t handle a surprise guest, you’re not worried about your country or your duties. Pull yourself together.’

*****

Maxwell’s phone vibrates, and interrupts his conversation with Michael. ‘Excuse me,’ he says before picking up. ‘Olivia?’ he asks.

‘Beaumont,’ she says, ‘we’re going to Ramsford. We’re not going back to this shitshow.’

‘Is Amara ok?’ he asks anxiously. Michael perks up upon hearing her name. 

Liv sighs. ‘She’ll be fine. She needs to get out. Meet us there? Or maybe you should stay, you just had a big moment at the press conference, it’s up to you.’

Max replies hastily, ‘No, I’m coming too. I’ll meet you there. I’m with Michael. We’re talking.’

Liv snorts, ‘Make sure to tell him the bed of shit he just put us all in.’

Maxwell looks at Michael, who obviously heard that and looks down at his feet, embarrassed. Max responds, ‘It’s not his fault, Liv, he was set up.’

Liv groans. ‘I know, but still, that was a fucking bitch of a situation.’

Max nods. ‘I’ll meet you there. And please tell Amara I love her.’

Liv hangs up. Max rolls his eyes. 

‘Sorry about that, Michael. She’s a little rough around the edges but she’s great.’

Michael nods. ‘Was that the redhead? She really seems to have Amara’s back. I’m actually happy to hear that.’

Max smiles. ‘Amara has found very loyal friends, here.’ He gets up. ‘Let’s go. I’ll go back to the dining room to talk to my brother and I’ll take you to a hotel in my neck of the woods. I’d ask you to stay with us but like I said, Amara isn’t ready.’

Michael nods. ‘Thank you. But you can stay, I’ll take a taxi. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I understand you have something to celebrate?’

Maxwell smiles sadly. ‘To tell you the truth, I just came out to the whole country at a press conference. But I’d rather celebrate it with the people I love.’

Michael smiles weakly. ‘Congratulations! That’s incredible.’

‘Ha, thanks. Let’s go. I need to see my brother.’

*****

Everyone goes silent as Maxwell re-enters the dining room. He tries not to pay attention to the many pairs of eyes on him, and goes straight to Bertrand, whose brow is knit with worry. 

‘Finally, Maxxie, how is she?’ Bertrand asks hurriedly, his voice low.

Rashad, who is sitting next to him, inquires as well. ‘I hope she’s fine, Maxwell, this was very intense.’

Maxwell smiles weakly and sits down. ‘I’ve actually been talking to Michael. Amara is with the girls and Drake, they’re headed back to Ramsford. I just wanted to let you know that I’m going too.’

Bertrand nods. ‘Of course. Maxxie, I meant to tell you, you were incredible earlier and I’m proud of you. Now go, go be there for Amara. I’ll stay until dinner is over, I’ll thank Liam for the press conference again, and I’ll join you.’

‘Thanks, Bertrand,’ he says, patting his back. ‘See you later, Rashad.’

Maxwell walks out of the room, and realizes he’s followed by Liam, who walks at a brisk pace behind him.

‘Maxwell!’ he calls out as soon as they’re out of the dining room. 

He turns around. ‘Thank you, Liam, for the platform you gave House Beaumont today. I’m really sorry, but I have to go.’

Liam nods. ‘I understand. Is Amara ok?’

Maxwell shrugs, determined to make Liam feel bad for that ill-advised speech. ‘I don’t know, Liam. It was rough. She has a complicated history and you just threw it all on her face today. It’ll take time.’ He turns around.

‘Wait!’ Liam grabs his arm. ‘I have to go back, my father will kill me if I leave, but um… will you tell her I’m sorry? And I’m thinking of her? Please?’

Max nods solemnly. ‘Will do. But Liam?’

‘Yes?’ he asks hopefully.

‘I hope you realize there’s something rotten in this competition. I hope you do your due diligence and investigate.’

*****

Taglist:

@drakeandcamilleofvaltoria @jovialyouthmusic @andy-loves-corgis @mariahschoices @drakesensworld @thequeenofcronuts @notoriouscs @drakewalkerisreal @nikkis1983 @simsvetements @alesana45 @iplaydrake @emceesynonymroll @lily1999love @drakxwalker @drakewalkerwhipped @drakewalkerrosenberg @drakeswalkers @drakelover78 @silviasutton1989 @dcbbw @carabeth @furiousherringoperatortoad @hollygirl1269 @sirbeepsalot @ladyangel70 @thisperfectmemory

Thank you for your encouragements, everyone! Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist :)

[rorykillmore]

and this one is for @spearitsandmonsters who requested an au with one of our more recent dynamics! i decided to do sly and emerald because i wanted to have some fun with our sly cooper au idea. i ran with the whole “em and merc get recruited for the sly 3 heist” idea. there were a lot of ideas i had to cut for the sake of focus and flow (god i NEED emerald interacting with dimitri someday) but i wanted to explore how she’d react to the panda king in particular, so!

merry christmas spear!!! here’s to another wonderful year of being friends -- okay, it hasn’t really been a wonderful year, maybe, but the parts with YOU have been wonderful. from all our fantastic rp dynamics and plots to the fandoms we plunge into together to the fact that we always seem to be on the same page when it comes to salt, you are and have always been a person i jibe with so naturally. it hasn’t been an easy year for you, and you’ve had to deal with a lot of ups and downs, but you’ve worked so hard to be present and kind to your friends despite that and to contribute to some great things to denny, so hopefully this fic honors that <3

“What does power mean when you only use it to destroy? Until it begins to erode at your very self?”  The Panda King sounds more bitter than Sly would have expected, although his anger doesn’t sound like it’s directed at Emerald.  “What does loyalty mean when the people who demand it would see you steeped forever in your own rage, or doubt, or self-loathing, for their better gain?”

The whole gang’s assembled (maybe too organized a word) by the time Sly gets back to the hideout with their two newest recruits.  And... Sly can see that Bentley and Murray, at least, have recognized them immediately.

“Oh,” Murray says, puzzled.  “It’s those guys.”

‘Those guys’, in this case, being Emerald and Mercury.  A rival duo of thieves who Sly admittedly expected to cause a few ripples, not only because they’d been competing with the Cooper Gang for months now, but because of the rumors that sometimes flitted around about Mercury’s more... less than savory work. 

It’s not worth the discomfort of immediately pointing out that Bentley’s newest choice of recruit has more blood on his hands than either of Sly’s do, but Sly has the defense ready all the same.

“Glad to know we’ve left such an impression,” Mercury notes dryly, while Emerald shifts a little at all the attention in the room being centered on them.

From where he’s perched on the couch behind Murray, the Guru murmurs an inquiry, and it’s Bentley who responds.  “Guru -- everyone -- meet Emerald Sustrai and Mercury Black.  Fellow thieves, former rivals, current...”

“Allies,” Sly cuts in firmly. “They’re here to help us with the heist, just like everyone else.”

“No, we just dropped by for pizza and drinks,” Emerald quips. The joke appears to be lost on Murray, who starts to look hopeful at the prospect.

“Well,” Bentley continues, still eyeing Sly, but clearly addressing the two newcomers.  “You already know Murray and I, obviously.  I’ll just run through the rest of the introductions briefly. This is the Guru -- our chief mystic.”

“He kind of does that... spooky illusion thing, too,” Sly tells Emerald, waggling his fingers for emphasis. “I figured the two of you might have a thing or two to teach each other.”

“Right.” Emerald eyes the Guru dubiously until, courteous as ever, he dips his head to her in greeting, and she seems to relax slightly.

“And Penelope, our RC specialist...”

“I would love to get a closer look at your weapons. -- You know. Since we’re  allies now, and all,”  Penelope tells them immediately, pushing her glasses further up her nose as she leans in to get a closer look. “I might even be able to make a few nifty modifications, if either you wanted...”

Bentley glances over his shoulder almost hesitantly, and Sly follows his gaze to where the Panda King’s bulky form is visible hunched over his desk as he tinkers with what looks like a few small explosives. He’s the only one, notably, who hasn’t joined the welcome party.  “And that’s...”

“The Panda King,” Mercury cuts in, his eyes glittering with interest and some other unreadable emotion.  “Yeah. We’ve heard of you.”

“Demolitions?” Emerald guesses his role, likely clued in not only by what the Panda King is doing now but by his long, infamous history of blowing up villages who refused to pay tribute to him. Bentley nods.

“He’s ‘reformed’,” Sly says, the sarcasm and doubt in his voice perhaps a little too clear. The Panda King himself doesn’t react, but Murray and Penelope are starting to look a little uncomfortable, and strangely, even Emerald won’t quite meet his eyes.

“Well,” Bentley breaks the silence after another stiff moment.  “We’ve certainly got the makings of a fine team, here. If I was the kind of person who liked to jinx things, I’d say Dr. M’s fortress didn’t stand a chance.”

Sly - who has already clued Emerald and Mercury in on the situation with his family’s treasure vault being heavily guarded by an evil super genius who bought the island it was located on - fills in the remaining gaps.

 “We, uh.  We have to fulfill our end of our bargain before we move out to the island, though.” Mercury frowns and Emerald raises her eyebrows, so Sly continues, “We promised the Panda King we’d rescue his daughter. In exchange for him lending us his services.”

“What happened to his daughter?” Emerald asks. Sly opens his mouth to answer, but before she can get a word out --

“She’s being held prisoner. By a military general who would force her into marriage against her will.” The Panda King’s rumbling voice cuts through the conversation, surprising everyone. Sly turns and sees that he has set down his tools at the table, and keeps still as he pushes himself to his feet.  “If you will all excuse me. I have some other preparations to make.”

He exits the room without so much as glancing at their new recruits.

“Wow. Just as charming as I’ve always heard,” Mercury drawls once he’s gone.

Emerald shifts beside him. “Never pegged a guy like that for being such a devoted father.”

Sly doesn’t particularly want to dwell on the subject. Instead, he shoots them both a friendly smile.  “Come on, I’ll show you where to get settled in. Luckily it’s a pretty spacey place for an inconspicuous thieves’ den.”

----

Later that night, he braves the cold to go sit on the hideout’s rooftop, letting the drifting snow settle softly into his fur as he tracks the guards below on their nightly routes. General Tsao’s certainly no slouch when it comes to security, but something about that makes this all the more satisfying -- being hidden right under his nose.

He almost doesn’t notice when a lithe, shadowy figure hops up to join him, but all things considered, there’s only one person it can really be.

“It’s freezing up here,” Emerald immediately complains.  “Why aren’t you inside?”

“Why aren’t you?” Sly teases back, twitching an ear towards her. “Getting attached to the pleasure of my company?”

He can practically hear Emerald rolling her eyes in response.  “Ha. You wish, Cooper.”

But then, to his surprise, she settles down beside him at the edge of the roof.  She must want to talk to him about something, then, and Sly patiently waits in silence without pushing her until she gets around to breaching the subject. 

“Let me ask you something. Did you just hire me and Mercury to piss off your turtle friend?”

Sly’s ears prick up in surprise.  “What? No. Why would you think -- ?”

“Things just... seemed kinda tense between the two of you, is all.” Emerald shrugs nonchalantly, gazing out at the view beyond.  “Sort of seemed like you didn’t like him inviting the pyromaniac along.”

“Well, I don’t.” Sly catches himself before he can sound too bitter, suddenly self-conscious and a little more clear on where Emerald might’ve gotten her impression that he only invited her along for petty payback. Sheepishly and feeling he owes her some kind of explanation, he draws a breath.  “...I just... don’t trust him. He was... part of the gang that killed my parents.”

There’s a brief, almost fragile pause. “Oh.  Jeez. I’m sorry,” Emerald says finally, the sympathy sounding a little brittle, but not insincere.  “I... didn’t know you were an orphan. Me too.”

Sly glances over at her carefully, but she still isn’t looking at him.  “Kinda seems to be a common sob story in our line of work.” He keeps it casual, but his tone is gentle.  “Bentley and Murray grew up without their parents, too. ...What about Mercury?”

Emerald shrugs again.  “He grew up with his dad, but... honestly, from what I’ve heard, he probably would’ve been better off with no parents at all.”  She laughs bleakly, and it’s more than telling.  “Kinda funny how an actual mass murderer cares more about his kid than Merc’s ever did about him.”

Sly gets the feeling that this isn’t the kind of thing he should admit knowing to Mercury -- ever. Which means that... maybe Emerald trusts him more than he realized, if she’s sitting here talking about it. He opens his mouth, searching for words, but Emerald abruptly changes the subject.

“So why did Bentley invite the Panda King into your gang, if you guys have such a horrible history?”

Faced with the question, Sly can’t say that he thinks Bentley ever had any ill intent. And, of course, he’s always known that. “Because he thinks we need him, I guess. Even I have to admit, I don’t know of a better demolitions expert out there, and... that vault’s gonna be tough to crack.”

Emerald pauses, frowning.  “...Do you think... there’s any chance he could actually change?”

No, is Sly’s first, immediate instinct, but if he’s being honest with himself, it might be more deeply rooted in his own anger than any objective assessment of the Panda King that he’s made. He’s not sure whether or not he would safely call the Panda King reformed, but technically, he has already changed. He isn’t the same person he’d been when Sly had confronted him three years ago. And neither was Sly.

“I think we all change,” Sly says finally. “One way or another.”

It’s part of being alive. He thinks - suddenly and unbidden - of Clockwerk, who traded that essential spark of life for immortality, and wound up trapped in stagnant hatred for all of his supposedly eternal life. It’s almost enough to make Sly pity him.

The Panda King isn’t Clockwerk. Maybe it isn’t impossible for him to step beyond the various ways he’s trapped himself. And abruptly, Sly wonders why Emerald even asked.

He glances at her again, more thoughtfully, and smiles.  “You know... saving the Panda King’s daughter isn’t the only way we’ve helped out our new recruits. We helped the Guru protect his home back in Australia, and won Penelope’s flying competition.  I guess what I’m saying is... we kinda owe you and Mercury one too. If you ever needed help with anything.”

He senses - without really needing to ask - that she has some kind of past that she’s running from. Something altogether separate from her dead parents.

Emerald blinks at him slowly, cautiously, and Sly can tell she’s trying not to seem too surprised.  “...Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” she says finally, but something about it seems contemplative, like the offer is actually weighing on her.

So Sly only laughs, in no hurry to push her. 

“Yeah. Okay,” he agrees, and they watch the sun rise together.

----

It’s two days later when, in the midst of waiting in the van’s passenger seat for Murray to come out and drive them to their latest tag-team mission, Sly catches a glimpse of the Panda King approaching in the rear view mirror. 

He activates his ancestor’s invisibility trick before he can even really think about planning it -- maybe because a still suspicious part of him wants to see what the Panda King’s doing poking around out here on his own. Maybe just because he’s not really in the mood for a friendly chat with his former adversary.

But as the Panda King throws open the van’s back doors and begins rummaging around, Sly realizes that he’d been mistaken -- the Panda King isn’t out here on his own.

“Bentley has recommended we make use of these custom communication devices during the mission,” Sly hears him rumble to someone else.

And then he recognizes Emerald’s voice answering, “Well, he is the resident tech nerd. Guess we’d better take his word for it.”

Bentley must’ve had another mission for the two of them, Sly guesses easily. He’s not entirely sure how he feels about it -- but he’s starting to feel a little bad about eavesdropping.  He’d consider silently slipping away, if he didn’t have to conspicuously open the passenger side door to do it.

“His intellect is... more then sufficient,” The Panda King agrees carefully. “And the way he has modified that chair to compensate for his injuries, more than worthy of respect. I once believed that an old associate of mine was the most skilled inventor to have ever lived. Perhaps I was mistaken.”

There’s a pause, which Sly spends trying not to feel a reluctant glow of pride at one of his most bitter enemies praising his best friend.

“...The... people you used to work with,” Emerald ventures casually -- or ‘casually’, because Sly is starting to be able to tell the difference between when she means it and when she’s feigning it.  “Do you ever... I don’t know.  Question whether you were right to leave them?”

Sly pricks his ears, surprised. The Panda King’s brief silence suggests that she might have caught him off guard, too.

“It was not my decision,” he growls eventually.  “The organization was falling apart at its seams, thanks to Cooper’s interference.  In the end, there was hardly anything left to leave.”

“So does that mean you would you go back?” Emerald asks, still sounding idle. “If you could?”

“What does power mean when you only use it to destroy? Until it begins to erode at your very self?”  The Panda King sounds more bitter than Sly would have expected, although his anger doesn’t sound like it’s directed at Emerald.  “What does loyalty mean when the people who demand it would see you steeped forever in your own rage, or doubt, or self-loathing, for their better gain?” 

Emerald is quiet for longer, this time. When she speaks, her voice is a little softer, almost partially inaudible from Sly’s position.  “You remind me of someone I used to work with.  He had your... sense of integrity. I guess. Honor. Even when we were doing some pretty terrible things.”

And it only hits Sly just then why Emerald has seemed so cautiously, tentatively curious about the Panda King and Sly’s opinions on him up until now. He feels an unexpected pang of sadness for her, and remorse at the fact that he could have inadvertently given her the impression that he didn’t think it was possible to come back from... wherever she’d been.

“And did he ever walk away?” The Panda King asks more lowly.

“I don’t know. He always wanted Mercury and I to get out, but I... never really found out what happened to him, after we left.”

“Making peace with the past is never simple,”  The Panda King sounds thoughtful, or maybe troubled -- Sly can’t really read his tone, but it’s one he’s never heard before.  “And doubt along the way... is not a sign of weakness. Merely a symptom of wounds that have yet to fully heal. The only remedy is to move forward even still, and fight for the things that are dear to us. When you have something to fight for... that makes it easier.” 

“Like your daughter,” Emerald provides quietly.

“Yes. And what do you fight for now, Emerald?”

Brief silence, again.  “...I guess I’m still trying to figure that out.”

“I think perhaps... you are in the right place, then.”

There’s a shuffle as the equipment they needed is evidently located and removed from the van. And then the doors slam shut, and Sly can hear nothing more.

He drops back into visibility once he’s sure they’re both gone, complicated emotion twisting in his chest. The Panda King is the last person in the gang Sly would have ever expected Emerald to connect with, but maybe that’s his own oversight.

Maybe - whatever he thinks of the bear himself - his insight is valuable. To Emerald, at least. And maybe Sly is already more invested than he’s realized, because this makes it more valuable to Sly, too.

He settles back in his seat, closes his eyes and then opens them again, and tries to grab hold of that slowly building hope for the future.

[twistedsinews]

The Long Road Home

Saints Row; Faith/Johnny, Shaundi, Pierce; PG-13 (AO3 Flavor)

She woke up handcuffed to a hospital bed.

Both hands, she found, as she tried in vain to rub the sleep from her eyes.  The sterile, cream colored room came into slow focus.

She remembered the distant jingle of shell casings hitting the ground.

She remembered...

...fuck.

Johnny flat on his back. A boot on his chest.  That look on his face.

Nothing.

“Oh, God.”

The handcuffs clinked against the hospital bed railings as she struggled to sit up.  A wave of nausea washed over her, and she nearly doubled over forward.  The bright blue blur of a uniformed police officer moved in the periphery of her vision, drawing her attention.

“Please tell me I didn’t fall into another coma.”

The woman glared at her.

She licked her lip, and gave one of the handcuffs a halfhearted tug.

“Yo, think you could lend me a hand over here?  I got an itch.”

Her guard’s cold expression suggested that the answer was, “No.”

So much for civility across enemy lines.

She gave the handcuff another, more thoughtful tug.

~*~

She flashed her badge.

“Hey.”

The nurse at the desk barely looked up from the chart he was studying.  She glanced across the scattered assortment of paperwork, but at a glance it failed offer any immediate answers.

“I need to see the prisoner’s personal effects.”

“You’re going to need a signed release form.”

He moved to walk around her, on his way to his rounds.  Grabbing a handful of his scrubs, she spun him right back around and shoved him into the near wall.

“A’ight.  Let’s try this again.”  She angled the service pistol under his chin.  “Where’s my shit?”

His eyes widened.

“Right this way.”

“Thank you.”

~*~

A chill wind bit into her skin as she stood on the steps of the staff entrance to the hospital, buttoning up her shirt.  The afternoon sun was far too bright for how distantly cold it was.

She crossed the alley to jump the wall and slipped across the hospital’s green, into the street, making her way down the sidewalk en route to anywhere but here.  Her hand slid into her pocket for her earrings, which she pinned in place, one after the next.  She dragged her pendant free by its chain, and strung it over the back of her neck to securely clasp it.

Lastly, she pulled her gloves from where she’d tucked them into her belt, pausing her stride as she tugged them on and strapped them down.

Feeling more like herself again, she breathed deep and let the air rush from her lungs in a puff of frost.

Falling to lean against a near wall, she dug her cell phone out of her pocket and pressed the power button. The screen lit up, then distorted to black.  She pressed the power button again, and nothing happened.  She smacked it, to no avail.

The battery was dead.

~*~

A police blockade down Adept Way had forced her to double back before she could reach her own turf.

Once she got back to the hideout, they were going to have to do something about that.  Troy’s crew had evidently been feeling cocky lately, and if they were willing to push it this far then it was time for them to remember who owned this city.

She jimmied the lock on the newspaper machine.  By the date, she’d been out for two days, and anything could have happened.  There was plenty in the headlines about gang violence, but the scuffle that had sent her to the hospital didn’t seem to be even a footnote.

Crushing the paper into a crumpled ball, she tossed it aside.  With a little extra effort, she pocketed the quarters from the coin compartment.

There was another police blockade up ahead.

~*~

“C’mon, man, don’t do this to me – pick up your damn phone.”

He was okay.

He had to be okay.

He’d been taking care of himself for ten years longer than she’d even been in the game, she didn’t even know why she was worrying.  All because the last she’d seen of him, he’d been on his back with a shotgun leveled at his chest...

She waited another two agonizing minutes, then fed another quarter into the slot and redialed the number.

Busy signal.

She slammed the phone back onto its cradle hook.

Mind racing, she dialed a different number.

“Hey, who wants me?”

“Shaundi, hey.  You heard from Gat?”

“What... he’s not with you?”

A patrol car rolled by. The cop driving it was sizing her up. She stared back; it was a little late to look inconspicuous.

“Hey look, I’m kind of in the middle of something, can I call you ba-...”

By the time the sirens came on, she was already running.

~*~

The cop was staring because she was staring... and he was reaching for his wallet, not his holster. She relaxed as he followed through the motions of paying the cashier.

Marginally.

She grabbed her food, and left.

The cop’s buddy, seated in the booth nearest the door, watched her go.

~*~

She wasted the remainder of the day at the club across the street.

Getting past the police barricades that had been set up on the bridges was going to take some doing. Part of it was waiting for cover of night, part of it was waiting for the train.

She was late for the latter, but so was the train.

Climbing up the rain shelter, she caught a free ride above the notice of the police skulking in the train cars and patrolling the highway.

~*~

There was a single forgotten bullet casing behind the door.

Spent casings littered the ground.  She reloaded the revolver and dropped the now-empty quickloader after them in favor of snapping the chamber shut – she could recover it later.

The evidence of their standoff with the police had been swept under the city’s rug.  Or maybe it had simply been washed away with the summer rain.

Her shoulder burned, blood staining her white shirt.  One of the beat cops had gotten a lucky shot, for all that he hadn’t survived to revel in the achievement.

She sat down on the steps, folding her hands between her knees.

In the midst of the mayhem, they got separated by the sheer chaotic chance.   She’d ducked into the sanctuary of the Church; Gat had found himself cover amidst the mishmash pileup of squad cars and SWAT vans that clogged the street.

A passing car stilled the crickets.  Once it had gone, they resumed their symphonic harmony.

A swarm of law enforcement separated them.

One of the cars in the pileup exploded, changing the field of debris.

Johnny was facedown on the pavement.

“Gat!”

He stirred, bloody and battered, dragging himself away from the mess. He turned his head her way; she didn’t know how he even heard her.  Her ears were ringing so badly she couldn’t hear herself.

A SWAT cop circled the wreckage, staring down at him.  She lunged out of cover, and Johnny’s expression changed.  She couldn’t hear him.

There was a sharp pain at the crook in her knee and her knee buckled, sending her to the ground.  Two cops flanked her.  She could see their shadows on the ground, melting into one.

The SWAT cop kicked Gat over onto his back, planting a boot on his chest as he leveled his shotgun.

She rubbed her eyes.

Gat’s eyes were on her.

Another sharp pain jolted through her skull.  Everything went dark.

Crying about it wasn’t going to get her anywhere.

~*~

“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon...”

No answer.

She reached, hesitantly, to pull the hook down.

Blowing her hair out of her eyes, she toyed with the quarters in her hand.

It’d been worth a shot, right?  So long as she kept trying....

Feeding the phone one of the remaining quarters, she dialed another number out of memory.  The line connected almost immediately.  No one answered, but she could hear voices in the background.

“Hello?”

“...Boss?”

“Were you expecting the General?”

“Fuck!”  Pierce stammered, “ Where’ve you...?  Where are you?”

“On my way back to the hideout.  Meet me there.”

“Wait, wait!  Don’t han-!”

She dropped the phone in its cradle and started off.

The train rattled overhead.

~*~

The familiar pavement of the red light district underfoot was like coming home.  Hell, these days it was coming home.

“Hey, baby, looking for a little something?  Or maybe someone, hmm, to keep you warm?”

Assholes and all.

“Yeah.”

She left the guy gasping for breath, grasping his balls on the pavement.

“Not you, though.”

It was good to be home.

~*~

The radio played a melancholy, static-y oldies love song.

She turned it off.

Purgatory was empty.

She hadn’t seen any Saints on the street, either.  Given the number of cops on the prowl, she hadn’t thought much of it.  But the dead silent club hammered home a dread feeling of uneasiness.

She waited as long as her threadbare patience allowed, grabbing a change of clothes and spare weapon from the locker upstairs.  When Pierce still hadn’t showed up – and neither had anyone else – she wandered back up the stairs through the mission basement, topside.

Her fingers delved into a pocket for her pack of cigarettes as she pushed the door open...

...and froze.

The chill drizzle ran in shimmering rivulets down her skin, a cold shock of ice down her spine, and she raised her hands slowly.

The alley was full of cops, for all that she could barely discern them.  A semi-circle of squad cars stretched from one end of the wall to the other, flanked by several SWAT vans.  All ill-defined shadow.

The floodlights were blinding.  

“You’re under arrest.”

The voice was authority personified.  She couldn’t see, beyond the glare, who had spoken.

“Yo, don’t you gotta read me my rights?”

The voice scoffed.

“You don’t have any.”

Several shadows detached from the light, moving assuredly towards her.  She chewed her lip, biding her time until the first one reached her.

The first two cops went down hard.

Three replaced them. Two more behind them.

One caught her arm at an bad angle, forcing her into to the wall before kicking her feet out from under her. Her head hit the pavement, leaving her dazed, and she was fleetingly aware of blood soaking into the shoulder of her shirt.  Three cops struggled to pin her down as her efforts renewed, rain-slick and desperate, and a fourth readied her handcuffs.  

A gunfight broke out.

Chaos right behind it.

Brightly lit shadows clashed on the wall overhead.  It pushed closer, obscuring the blinding radiance.  The men who were still trying to subdue her realized their valiant, stubborn stupidity moments too late.

A shotgun blast ripped through the two that were standing, throwing them back into the dumpster.  One shoved to his feet, only to be knocked aside, right back to the ground.  Of the last two, one wasted the precious final seconds of his life in drawing his weapon and the other made a fraught, wasted run for the light.

A hand gripped her arm, hauling her painfully to her feet to shove her through the open door.

She dashed the rain out of her eyes, blinking her hazy vision clear.  The calloused thumb that traced its way across her cheek was hauntingly familiar; she caught his hand, and her breath caught in her throat.

Gat’s unabashed smirk deepened into a wicked grin at her expression.

Twisting his hand in her hold, he pulled her towards the stairs.

“They got it covered,” he told her, “Let’s go.”

She held her ground.

“Where the fuck have you been?”

“Yeah, we can talk about it later.”  He gave her a sweeping appraisal, gaze lingering on her bloodstained shoulder before flicking back to her face.  “You look like shit.”

He gave her arm another tug, and she relented, following him down into the basement.

At the bottom of the stairs, she slipped in front of him to slide her arms under his.  He tolerated the embrace for a mere handful of seconds, sliding his hand down her back and giving her a pat, before nudging her through the door and leading the way down into Old Stilwater.

~*~

“Someone seemed to think because they got their hands on you they could start makin’ demands.  Started hitting us hard.  I got everybody to ground best I could.”

She listened to Johnny’s side of the story solemnly while he cleaned the abrasions between her knuckles. They were hidden away in a safe house, the city and its world distant and in plain view through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

The rag hit the coffee table, and Gat leaned back into his corner of the couch.  Her resolve wavered, then she sidled up against him, and he draped an arm over her shoulders.  “Doubt they’ll have the balls to hit the club again anytime soon.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure about that.”  Everything from the past few days weighed down on top of her; she felt numb.  “Is it me, or have they been really out to get us recently?”

“Know what I think?” Gat asked.  “I think some stupid fucker out to make a name for himself is gotten a little confused ‘bout the way it all works around here.  We oughta send these assholes a wake-up call that ain’t so easy to forget.”

“Yeah,” she agreed.  “Later.”

Johnny didn’t argue, for which she was grateful; she was too tired to wage a war.  For the time being, she devoted her attention to his hand, feeling out the lines and scars on the inside of his fingers, before pressing his thumb to her mouth.

Johnny was safe.

She was safe in his arms, second to nowhere.

Exhaustion caught up with her, and, head on his shoulder, her mind drifted off into peaceful slumber.

[astridthevalkyrie]

Axe to the Heart: Chapter 13

Astrid Hofferson/Steve Harrington. “Maybe I hate a lot of things here in Hawkins but I suppose you’re not one of them.”

Chapter 12

Good Students And Note Passers

Requested by @ashleybenlove on Tumblr. Hope you like it!

Under normal circumstances, Astrid would have loved to have a seat next to the boy she liked. It would have made looking at him easier, maybe bring a blush out of her if he looked at her while she was answering a question, and would generally bring a nice set of butterflies to keep her busy if that class was dull one day.

But when that boy was Steve Harrington, it was not normal circumstances.

She looked at him a lot, sure. But that was usually just to send him exasperated looks for poking her, or for doodling on the paper he was supposed to be taking notes on.

The only time she blushed or got the ever so hyped butterflies were when Steve would get her in a particularly ticklish place, or make her exclaim something out loud and cause the entire class to look.

She was attracted to probably the most irritating guy in Hawkins.

For the first five minutes of Pre-Calc, he didn’t do anything. She glanced at him a few times, and he was actually writing, although he was taking some time to write on another piece of paper as well. Whatever. Twice the notes, less left for him to copy from her later. Not that she minded, but it was nice to see him stepping it up.

Or, she thought he was stepping it up. The next thing she knew there was a crumpled piece of paper pressed in her hand.

A note.

He had passed her a note as though they were in fifth grade. The nerve of that boy.

.

this class is so boring and i dont know how u stay awake ast

.

Above the words was a drawing of a nail bat and an axe.

Thor, was this what her life was now? Reading boredom notes that were specifically labelled for him and her? Listening to the ramblings of a teenage guy - who she liked very much, mind you - was not how she had expected to spend her high school career. Of course, she was being totally dramatic over a note, but she wouldn’t have been if he hadn’t given her the fucking note in the first place.

Trying to pay attention, Astrid scribbled back as quickly as she could, looking back and forth between the note and the board.

.

Odin above, let me focus, or I will punch you so hard once we get out of class.

.

Really, she didn’t think it would work on him. Steve knew her well enough by now to know that she made a whole lot of threats she didn’t carry out. So it wasn’t surprising when the stupid ball of paper found its way into her palm again.

.

1 u dont use grammar in notes u freak and 2 i dont care how in touch with vikings berk was there is no way u guys seriosly said stuff like odin instead of saying fuck

.

Astrid rolled her eyes, hurriedly writing the new stuff on the board before she wrote back.

.

Okay, first of all, I said “fuck” all the time, but we really did use the Norse gods as swears. Fishlegs was literally the only one in the gang who never swore. And second, it’s spelled “seriously.” I love grammar more than I love you.

.

It was after she gave it to him that she realized she shouldn’t have written that last part. She hadn’t meant it, but it had just come out. She was just...endeared by him, and they were joking around, and it just slipped out onto the paper.

She heard Steve scoff first, but then he went quiet, and she saw his cheeks redden lightly. It was a relief more than anything, at least he wasn’t looking confused or upset.

.

love u 2 ast little early 4 that though dont you think???

.

Shut up, I didn’t mean it, it just came out.

.

U wrote it how did it just come out

.

I’m sorry you’re not having your fantasy of me hopeless confessing all my love for you come true, Harrington.

.

ill get over it if u give me a kiss

.

Astrid’s eyes flew to him, and he was grinning at her, albeit a little nervously. His arms were crossed and he was slouching, a starch difference to her sitting up straight with her arms on the table.

He wanted to kiss her? Or he wanted her to kiss him? (Same difference, really.)

Either way, kissing just wasn’t something people who weren’t in a relationship did. (There was that one time her and Ruff had kissed, but that had just been some nice experimentation).

Oh, how was she supposed to focus on whatever the teacher was saying now? Harrington had put the idea in her mind, and now she wanted to, wanted to - to snog the stupid smirk off his face. She wanted to kiss him.

Holy Freya, she really wanted to kiss him.

.

Where did that come from? I thought we weren’t DOING that, Harrington.

.

Steve was smirking to himself as he wrote back, which made her nervous, at the very least, but also tingly.

.

your the one who said u loved me, hofferson

.

Thor, Loki, Odin, and Freya above, I didn’t mean it. And it’s “you’re.”

.

YOU’RE thinking about it arent you?

.

He blew her a kiss when she glanced at him, and Astrid’s face burned. It really wasn’t good that he knew how to make her squirm in her seat. She was supposed to be the confident one. So Astrid didn’t answer, deciding to just shove the paper in her pocket. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Steve pout, slouching even more.

After the bell rang, she grabbed her bag and hurried out, clenching and unclenching her fist. Steve was not good with words at all, he was the type to come up with horrible rhymes on Valentine’s Day, and yet “ill get over it if you give me a kiss” had her undone.

“Astrid!”

Steve showed up next to her, panting slightly as he caught up. She kept her eyes forward as they walked, not looking at him.

“So?”

“So what?”

“So, do I get the kiss?”

Astrid scoffed, feeling her stomach flip and biting her lip. “Why do you wanna kiss me anyway?”

“I mean…” She wasn’t looking at him but she knew he was smiling like a doof. “You spend weeks with yourself and tell me you don’t wanna get hot and heavy.”

Astrid nearly choked on her words, finally facing him. “You’re impossible.”

“But you love me,” he said with a grin wider than before, nudging her gently.

“Jesus, Odin, holy Balder and Tyr above.” She swung to stand in front of him, her bag slipping from her shoulder to her arm as she cupped his cheek and pressed a kiss to his lips. “I don’t...fucking...love you.”

Steve let out a laugh between the kiss, using one arm to steady her around the waist. “You are such...a nerd, Hofferson,” he mumbled, his smile apparent.

She pressed him against the wall by the shoulders, making sure that boy got the kiss of his life. If he was going to drive her crazy then by all the gods in the universe, she was going to do it right back.

When they pulled away, there were some whistles from passing students, but Astrid didn’t stop to listen to any comments - she just slipped her bag back up, turned on her heel, and walked away, hearing Steve let out another laugh behind her.

“Maybe I am, but you love me.”

I didn’t...expect it to end like that, but I’m oddly satisfied.

Next chapter: Steve comes for his regularly scheduled nightly visit, but he sees a side of Astrid that she prefers to keep hidden.

Please send in requests!

[ideahat-universe]

Shipping Blossoms

Ever notice that Blossoms are more pink than red? Pink used to be a color for young boys ya know? Red was also a color for men as well. It was symbolism for the blood you might see on a battlefield. 

That’s all I wanted to talk about. Just thought I’d mention blossoms, the color pink, and some mild history. 

All right, see you tomorrow. 

All right. Truth time. I’m not talking about the flowers. I’m talking about the character. I’m talking about the Powerpuff Girls which at the time at writing this came the “New” Powerpuff Girl Bliss.

But this is only mildly connected to that. No, what I’m talking about is what I would call the “Jared Fogle Shapiro Controversy.”

Now the problem is two fold, One is that a 5-6 year old is being shipped with a character that looks to be about 8 maybe 9 and it’s a character that shares his name with a pedophile.

The other problem is that it looks just like one of the writers from the show and doesn’t serve a purpose beyond being a love interest for Blossom. So it just looks like the writer is shipping himself with a main character who is a 5-6 year old girl. 

That’s pretty fucking dodgy. 

Apparently though. That’s all in our heads. As it turns out it’s not a self insert fan character because all the writers and animators insert themselves into the cartoon. You do get a few things named after the creators of the show. Craig himself is in the original cartoon in a few easter eggs and in Courage the Cowardly Dog John Dilworth would put his name in random places and often a caricature of himself for comedic effect. The most obvious cameo being in the Promo episode where he gets zapped by the chicken’s raygun despite being a billboard. 

Craig had similar cameos, Self depreciating and random. You don’t wonder or worry who the character is because it’s a throwaway gag. 

Is Jared a running gag? What’s the joke? Is the joke that these elementary kids are having an awkward teen romance? 

Is that really what you want to do?

Maybe it’s not a joke. Maybe it’s laziness. Like they said. When they need a name for something or someone they just take a name from a writer and or animator in the studio and put it in the cartoon. 

Okay, so why was it necessary to have a love interest for a 5-6 year old girl? Why would you have to have this and yet not need it bad enough to thoroughly design the character? 

Again, why does Blossom need a love interest? 

Just for the record this whole idea of the girls having a crush on someone isn’t new. In fact it’s happened several times before. 

Lets start with the canon example where Buttercup has a crush on Ace from the Gangreen Gang. 

That episode could have been weird because it was a 5 year old having a crush on a 17 year old but rather than it being a romance they play around with no reason, the moral of the episode is specifically coached by this scenario. Ace doesn't have feelings for Buttercup but he notices that he can manipulate her because Buttercup has a similar sense of humor and character to Ace and his gang. 

Buttercup lets Ace get away with bad things because she appeals to her rebellious side while also buttering her up (pun not intended) by appearing very compassionate. 

Buttercup flirts with Ace until she realizes that Ace is using her to get rid of her sisters so she chooses to save her sisters and break the spell that Ace had on her. 

It was puppy love and the age gap allowed for Ace to control a young and impressionable Buttercup but she comes to her senses and sends the Gangreen Gang packing. 

As a side note, the show also suggests that Buttercup and Mitch have a thing going on. 

But note how Buttercup just frames it as friendship and doesn't have romantic feelings for Mitch and thinks boys are gross (she’s friends with Mitch though, so is that a compliment?) So clearly the old writers for the show understood romance a lot more. It wasn't a joke whenever it came up and the moral of the story was to always put your family before any sort of smooth operator that might try to break up the family. 

Very good message. Very well done. But I wouldn't expect less from Craig and Genndy. 

New writers though. What have they done with Jared? Not much. There was that one episode where Jared was in a play with Bubbles and Blossom tried to backstab her own sister just so she can kiss Jared. And then Jared gets taken away by some kind of viking lady that always marries men that are part of a play and.

What was the moral of the story? Not to fight over a man, or something? 

All right. So this whole Jared X Blossom thing made me remember. Something from my past that I had buried with many other things. It was the ultimate crossover of Cartoon Network cartoons at the time. 

Now, I never got it clarified. But the designs of the characters in the ill fated Fusionfall game was apparently styled in a similar manner to a fan comic made by an individual named Bleedman. 

Does this ring any bells?

I have to be hitting the nostalgia membrane pretty hard for some people right now. This is ancient CN fandom lore. Bleedman had a really popular comic series where the focus was on the majority of Powerpuff girls going on adventures with other famous CN (and Nick) Cartoon characters. This was around the time all these popular shows started sucking in their original run. If they didn't go off the air too soon they went on too long. 

I would have said that the main objective was to create the ultimate fan comic cartoon character crossover ever devised but it’s clearly interested in other things. 

Yeah...Um...

Bleedman clearly made his comics for the lolis. You go back and you read those things and you notice how most of the boys and men in the series are from the cartoons. Same with the women. None of the women that are over the age of 12 I would say are given any sort of glamor. 

It  would be one thing if the comic drew everyone in a reserved way but no. You see a lot of little girls in their underwear. It’s right up there with Code Lyoko with the gratuitous underwear scenes. Don’t even get me started on the up skirts shots. 

On the upside. Dexter is really well designed. Him and a few other characters are really cool looking. The OCs not so much. I would say it’s the opposite of good looking. Ya know. When it’s not a loli. 

Oh! And Mandy did 9/11. That’s not a joke by the way. I have a dark enough humor to find someone doing that to be hilarious but I draw the line at Grim marrying an adult Mandy and them having kids. Shipping Grim and Mandy. I have no words. 

I don’t bring this comic up so I can gross you out with various implications the comic had. No. This is the original feature that had shipping involved. 

Yes, Bleedman had this reboot beat on Shipping Blossom by about a decade. It’s really awkward though. It’s not set up very well either. It’s almost shipping for it’s own sake. 

But if you twisted my arm and forced me to choose one or the other I’d choose DexterXBlossom before JaredXBlossom. Mostly because there isn't an age gap and we know and love both the characters. They are both smart and they are both gingers. 

All these things are very important. 

As a throwaway comic gag they had a bunch of random Powerpuff girls that were made from chemicals A through W hidden in a bunker. Powerpuff girls made before the powerpuff girls? If I didn't know any better I’d think the writers of the current show had read this very comic. 

At least Bleedman didn't forget Bunny. How nice would it have been if they re-wrote Bunny back into the PPG lore and have her live instead. You could have had her black, maybe make her not like a hunchback. And ya know. Not make it a one time character.

Like Bullet, You all remember Bullet don’t you?

Okay. I've just about ran out of things to talk about and in case you haven’t noticed there’s a huge departure from how I used to talk about PPG to how I talk about them here. You would be under the impression that somewhere in my dark heart there’s some kind of deep abiding love for the powerpuff girls. 

Well.....Fine all right! I really like the Powerpuff girls! The show was hilarious and well written and action packed.

You go back and watch some episodes and they’re just fantastic. 

Before the reboot came out I felt pretty jaded due to how poorly the movie was in my eyes as well as how the show started to decline in the later seasons but it was really a great show with just a great cast and writers and animators. 

And the reboot is just a terrible bastardization of the original show. Not unlike Teen Titans Go but unlike TTG the Powerpuff girls are not apart of the immortal DC Warnerbrothers. Once they’re wrung out for all their worth they vanish and it’s happening right now. 

I wish I could say that we could depend on the fandom to keep the brand strong but have you seen the sort of people who make PPG fan art?

The things I've seen people draw, it makes Bleedman look reserved. I have no idea what it is with girls for some people but man. If I never saw Loud House and was only informed of it by the Internet I would thought it to be a Harem cartoon show. 

It’s quite frightening. All of it. 

If I could have one wish. If wishes could be granted. In this last gasp of a dying media rebooting everything to save it’s own life I want The Powerpuff Girls to be laid to rest. I want it to ascend to Warner Brothers super hero Valhalla like Space Ghost and Blue Falcon.

No more perverts, no more greedy execs getting their goons to keep ruining these girls for profit. Please, make it end.