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#the way this novella got……. so much BETTER WITH THIS
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revelations: lonan hallowed bodies gender crisis
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novella-november · 1 day
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Is this fanfic friendly? I feel like an outlier.
I guess this is my sign it's time to throw together a FAQ post to link to lol.
Yes, every event for this blog is fanfic friendly :D
Though as I mentioned on my Ominous October post, for events that include multiple short stories, I encourage everyone to flex their creativity and take one of their planned short story fanfics, and at least *attempt* to turn one of them into something entirely original; rebuilding a character and story from the ground up to stand on its own two legs is no easy feat, and that is what makes it so fun!
It really gets your creative gears turning, to make an "au of an existing material" to be something entirely original, and you can be pleasantly surprised about the things you come up with!
As a few people say, its not just a matter of "filing the serial numbers off" -- you have to add in just as much *or more* as what you take out when you are turning a fanfiction into something that is original and completely divorced from its original source material / inspiration, and that is a hard, but very rewarding challenge!
Obviously, this is not a requirement (there's no hard requirements for any of the challenges, other than no cheating, including no using AI),
but if you would like an extra challenge for the short story events and you're planning on doing entirely fan-fiction, I highly recommend trying it out at least once, and seeing where it leads you--
you may find yourself pleasantly surprised by what you find down that rabbit hole!
#replies#novella november#long rambly tags to follow lol#including anti royalist / anti billionaire shit#ominous october#this is what my novella november is going to be#something that WAS a huge earth-shattering fanfic AU#but before I even got past a WIP Oneshot I'd already realized that what I was planning was going to turn canon so far on its head it would#be unrecognizable and it would be much better off and more coherent if I made it entirely original#so now it is!#not only does this involve changing every single characters name#everyone is now a completely different species other than human because thats always fun#and of course we're also tackling all the issues that had annoyed me in omega verse fics since I was like 14 and liked the#creature aspects but hated the biological essentialism and misogny / caste systems#if your fantasy people have an enforced caste system you gotta actually treat that like the horror and systemic oppression it is#not just say 'biological = right' like dude what do you think people have been saying about real women this whole time????#people literally insist women are biologically inferior to men do you really think supporting that idea is going to make you sound#progressive just because your main character is a tomboy independant woman?#also like she lost all her independence as soon as she found a man to marry so uhhhhh#what happened to being ready and willing to hit the bricks if people kept talking down to you and condescending you for being a woman????#why did you go from independant badass tomboy to fainting damsel who spends all her time worrying about failing to produce an heir#so her husband can take power#instead of just straight up telling your husband#'hey I don't want to deal with the bullshit from your father how about we do the-#- socially acceptable thing and just go off to make our own independant settlement with some of the villagers who are on your side'#like your husband would literally be escstatic about this idea of finally getting out from under his dad's tyrannical thumb#and its more like way more than half the villagers would go with you not just a handful#theyve been sick of the kings shit for years and only your husband's potential rise to rule kept them in check#cus he actually cares about the villagers and goes among them#while still clearly having some biases to work through when it comes to class and gender equality
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megalony · 4 months
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Can't You Be Mine
As promised, this is my newest Evan Buckley imagine and I have a follow up planned if anyone is interested.
Let me know what you think.
Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra8484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @shelbygeek @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17
@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana
@shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @ml572 @jessie-lynn28 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700 @ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits
Evan Buckley Masterlist
Part 2
Summary: Evan has a great relationship with (Y/n)'s little girl, Minnie. So good, in fact, that at preschool, she starts telling everyone that her dad is a firefighter.
Enjoy.
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A grin spread across Evan's features when he pulled up outside the preschool. He unclipped his belt and tilted his head to the right, looking across at his little 'passenger princess' as he had come to call her recently.
Minnie had a cheesy smile on her face that glistened in the sunlight, illuminating the streaks of syrup covering her lips and chin and most likely her hands too.
Her hair was tied up in a bobble with a dark red bow in the centre of her head which always acted as a beacon. Evan could always spot her when he was dropping her off or picking her up due to the bows and clips she liked to have in her hair.
"Alright, let's clean up quick."
He leaned across to fish out the pack of wipes he had in the glove box while his heart gave out an extra beat when he noticed what Minnie was doing. She had her arms pinned to her chest but her hands held out in front of her, waiting very patiently and doing her best not to touch anything. She didn't want to get syrup all over the car, especially not when Evan told her the pancakes they got on the way to school were a secret.
Of course, (Y/n) knew they would pick something up on their way, they always did. (Y/n) knew one of them would end up letting slip what they had got on their way to school and work and half the time it was Evan who let slip what they had.
He swiped the sticky golden splotches from Minnie's hands and dabbed at her mouth before he kissed her nose.
Evan loved bringing her to school but he loved to pick her up even more because then he got to see her run out into the playground and make a beeline for him. He adored seeing Minnie run over to him with her arms out and a bright smile on her face, it made his day ten times better.
"Okay," He murmured to himself, cleaning himself up too before he grabbed the rubbish and climbed out the jeep, tossing everything in the bin on his way. "Ready?"
He unclipped Minnie's belt and scooped her out of the car seat, easing her down to her feet and helping her slide her backpack over her shoulders.
He loved that he didn't even have to say anything and she would automatically reach up and take his much larger hand in her own. Her fingers squeezed into his palm and she started to sway their hands back and forth as Evan guided them across the path towards the gates.
"You picking me up today?" The four year old tilted her head back and squinted in the bright sun to look up at Evan.
Her toothy grin melted his heart and had him beaming a smile back down at her. He wished he was picking her up, he would pick her up every day from school if he could, but he was going to work in ten minutes and he would be on a double shift. He wouldn't be finished until tomorrow morning so he wasn't going to see Minnie until tomorrow afternoon when she came home from school.
"Not today, mouse. Your mum's gonna pick you up, but I'll pick you up tomorrow if you want."
The nickname rolled off the tongue without Evan needing to think about it. He had come accustomed to calling her mouse, after Minnie Mouse, and he knew if he ever called her by her name, she thought she was in trouble because she was so used to petnames from Evan.
The four year old had attached herself to Evan from the moment they met and he couldn't of been happier.
Evan had been a little bit apprehensive going into a relationship with (Y/n) because all the other girls he'd dated had never had kids. He loved kids, he was a natural at looking after kids, but this was new territory for Evan. He had been worried that Minnie wouldn't want him around.
With (Y/n) being a single mum, Minnie wasn't used to her mum having a boyfriend or having a father figure around and Evan worried that she wouldn't want him being that father figure in her life.
She took them both by surprise. If Evan didn't pick her up from school she would pout and wobble her lower lip. If he wasn't round to have tea with them or if he couldn't put her to bed, she would stomp her foot and have a tantrum. If she thought (Y/n) was getting more attention she would get grumpy and if (Y/n) got a kiss, Minnie would pout and wait until Evan kissed her too.
And she had easily wormed her way into Evan's heart. He was forever telling the team about her and had dozens of photos of both his girls on his phone.
His favourite was the one of Minnie trying to wear his uniform. She had found his uniform when she and (Y/n) came over for dinner at the loft. Safe to say, Evan found her wearing his boots and his shirt that drowned her frame and he had to take a picture.
"Okay," Minnie leaned her head against Evan's leg, itching her temple against the scratchy material of his starched trousers.
Evan slowed down when they approached the gates, but he knew their routine by now. He didn't necessarily have to walk Minnie through the gates, her classroom was ten feet in front of the gates next to the playground. He could stand at the gates and see her safely into class.
But that never happened. Every time he dropped her off, Minnie would walk him through the gates like she was the adult safely escorting him to school. Only when they were right near the classroom door would she let go of his hand and say goodbye.
He let her drag him through the gates, smiling happily as the little girl led him towards the playground. They were a few minutes early today and her class was out in the play area, all milling about and burning off energy until the teacher would call them inside.
"Okay now I won't see you until tomorrow. Try not to miss me too much," He crouched down in front of her, letting go of her hand so he could hold her sides instead.
The whine she let out made his smile dampen but at least she didn't cry. She pushed forward and looped her arms around his neck, leaning against his chest for a hug.
"Bye bye." She broke off in a fit of giggles when Evan started to press sloppy kisses against her cheek to brighten her up.
"Bye girlie," He pressed a lasting kiss to her temple before he pushed up and headed back out the gates. He looked back over his shoulder, as always, and found Minnie waving at him with a toothy grin and creased eyes.
Minnie's shoulders sagged and her head lolled to one side as she looked around the playground.
She liked school, but she wasn't the most interactive or social child in the room. It worried (Y/n) that Minnie would rather sit on a table by herself and colour or do games on her own than with the other kids. The four year old started to panic when the teachers tried to get her to join in with everyone else. She was better with one on one where she interacted with one friend at a time otherwise she seemed to become overwhelmed and recluse herself.
She stayed watching through the fence as Evan hopped in the jeep, giving her one last wave before he pulled away. When he was gone, her lips pressed into a big pout and she turned around.
Her beady eyes landed on Amber, one of the girls in her class who she felt more comfortable sitting and talking to.
She headed over towards Amber and flopped down on her bum next to her as Amber was doodling on the pavement with chalk. There was another boy from their class, Miles, sat chalking the floor and Tina was stood kicking at the stones, waiting to head inside.
For a few moments, Minnie sat quiet as the mouse she was named after and listened to the conversations floating around. Her hands tapped against her thighs and her head tilted to one side as she tried to keep up.
"My daddy builds things, like big buildings. He goes in big crane machines." Amber didn't look away from whatever creation she was doodling, but she moved her hands out at her sides to emphasise how big the machines were that her dad operated.
"My dad fixes things, like trains." Miles dropped the blue chalk he was holding, now bored of doing this. He wanted to go inside.
"What does your dad do?"
Minnie's lips formed another pout and she began bashing her hands against her legs to give herself something to do.
She didn't know.
She didn't have one. Minnie always found it strange when she started school that the other kids talked about their dads and said their dads lived with them and took them out or told them off or picked them up. It was strange because she didn't have one. All Minnie had was her mum and Evan, who (Y/n) always said was her boyfriend.
But surely, if he was her mum's boyfriend, that meant he was Minnie's dad, didn't it?
Couldn't Evan be her dad? He brought her to school and picked her up, just like Amber's dad. He took her out to the zoo with her new 'cousin Chris'. He stayed over a lot of nights and he stayed in her mum's room. He cooked and played games with Minnie, he helped her get dressed and tucked her into bed. Sometimes he would tell her off like Miles's dad, though not often because Minnie prided herself on being good.
Evan did all the things the other dads did, so that had to make him Minnie's dad. Plus, they were going to live together soon. (Y/n) and Evan had already sat Minnie down and said they were all going to live in a house together soon and they were all packing their things up, ready for when they moved next month.
"My daddy's a fireman." Minnie kept her eyes on the chalk on the floor as her tummy fluttered and her legs began to jitter.
Well, that was what Evan did and he seemed to be her dad, for all intents and purposes. And that was what Minnie wanted. She wasn't sure if her friends chose their mums or their dads or if that was how this was supposed to work, but Minnie chose Evan.
"Does he drive the big trucks?"
Her words seemed to spark Miles's interest and he stopped fidgeting to pay attention to her.
"Yeah. Daddy had the truck fall on his leg."
"No he didn't."
A deep frown set in Minnie's features. Her nose scrunched up and her brows furrowed until she could barely see and her lips curled into the biggest pout she'd ever made. Her little hands planted down on her thighs as she huffed.
"Did too! I've seen the scar, he had pins and bolts in his leg." She wasn't fibbing. She had seen Evan's legs whenever he wore shorts when he stayed with them or when he took her swimming.
On the back of his left leg, he had a massive scar going from the back of his knee right down to his foot. It was a streaky white colour and as wide as Minnie's thumb that could trace the indent it caused in his skin like the formations of a crack in the road.
She was enamoured by the small lines that streaked horizontally across his scar from the stitches and she had seen the little circular scars where he'd had pins inserted into the bone to keep it in tact. Minnie didn't quite understand why he still had his leg considering such a big truck had landed on it, but she was satisfied when Evan just told her he was very lucky.
"Wow." Miles seemed satisfied by her answer and Minnie managed to smile, her frown washing away just as the bell rang and Miss Harvey came over to usher them all inside.
***
"Are you ready?" (Y/n) let her eyes scan around the group of children all piling off the minibus, but her sight kept falling back to her daughter stood at her side.
She felt Minnie take hold of her hand and tuck herself up against her mum's leg like she wanted to blend in and hide herself away.
(Y/n) was glad she had signed up for this little fieldtrip. She dreaded to think what Minnie would be like if she wasn't here. The preschool seemed to take the kids on lots of different outings and activities and parents were encouraged to sign up as chaperones and (Y/n) was more than happy to do that. Especially since Minnie was struggling with including herself and wanting to join in.
If she wasn't here, (Y/n) had a feeling Minnie would of thrown a tantrum about going on this trip or she might have attached to one of the other mums here and not left their side.
Their group- consisting of fifteen children, three parents including (Y/n), and two teachers- all walked down the path until they were in front of the large brick building with bright red shutters and signs attached.
"And this is the fire station we're visiting today." Miss Harvey beckoned all the kids to stand close together with the parents hovering them towards the wall and away from the road.
(Y/n) looked down when she felt Minnie give a small tug on her hand, although the four year old had her eyes set on the station like it was a beacon coming out of the darkness.
"Station, like where Buck works?"
"Yep." She squeezed Minnie's hand with an encouraging smile. She had chosen not to tell Minnie where they were going or which station, when they talked this morning. It seemed safer not to in case Minnie got too overexcited or in case this trip didn't go ahead for some reason.
And (Y/n) hadn't told Evan either so it would be a surprise for both of them when they walked in.
She kept Minnie tucked into her side and also kept an eye on the other two girls who were staying close by, Amber and Tina. They seemed to want to talk and interact with Minnie, but Minnie wasn't so keen. She just wanted to stay with (Y/n) and only talk to her mum.
They all followed Miss Harvey inside and (Y/n) took a moment to look around, almost in wonder as much as the kids. She had never been in a fire station before. Despite being with Evan for a year now, she had yet to turn up here. That didn't mean she hadn't met his friends, or his 'work family' as he called them, (Y/n) had met just about everyone who was important to Evan, but actually being here made all his stories come alive.
They were all guided to a large space between two fire trucks and all the kids were kindly told to sit down on the floor in the middle of the trucks.
"Okay kids, this is Captain Nash. He's in charge here and he's going to talk to you about what they do here."
Once Miss Harvey moved to the left and motioned towards Bobby, (Y/n) moved her hands and motioned for Minnie and Amber to sit down in the third row.
A gasp tumbled past Minnie's lips and she suddenly tugged on (Y/n)'s hand before she tried to rush to the side. (Y/n) followed her line of sight while she wrapped both arms around her daughter and reeled her back into her chest to stop her from running off.
"Baby, come on we need to sit down-"
"Buck! It's Buck." She wriggled from left to right, doing her best to get out of her mother's arms but it didn't work. (Y/n) sat her down and knelt behind her, keeping hold of her like they were just having a cuddle when really, she was preventing her daughter from running around the station like the Tazmanian Devil.
"You can see him after the Captain's talked to everyone," (Y/n) hushed in her ear, wincing when Minnie all but huffed and crossed her arms.
But she stayed seated on the floor, pressing her chin into her chest while she tried to focus on what the Captain was saying. It was hard. Minnie couldn't concentrate despite his soft voice and his warm smile. She wanted to go and see Buck.
Evan tossed the cleaning rag over his shoulder and stepped away from the ambulance when he heard the ruckus. That meant the kids were here.
It wasn't often that they got schools coming by to visit the station, it was normally them turning up at schools to give safety talks and lectures. He figured this was better for the kids. Out of their usual environment, somewhere new to look around and explore and this way, they got to see the trucks and the ambulance and see what it looked like inside a real station.
He crossed one leg over the other and leant against a pillar next to Eddie who was stood with his hands in his pockets and a soft smile on his face.
Once Eddie turned and noticed who it was behind him, he grinned and lightly jabbed his elbow into Evan's chest before pointing towards the group of kids all sat on the floor.
"You never said it was Minnie's class coming in today."
"What?" Evan pushed up off the pillar, standing back on his feet properly as his shoulders straightened and his back clicked into place.
Minnie's class? She was here? (Y/n) never mentioned it. She never said Minnie was going on a trip today, or that it would be a trip to his very own station. Come to think of it, Minnie hadn't said anything either and if Evan knew her like he thought he did, he knew that she would of been screaming in his ear that she was going to come and visit him today. He would of been waiting by the door if he knew.
His eyes scoured the three rows of preschool kids all sat quietly, barely any of them moving, all enamoured by Bobby's speech and how he was beginning to point and describe the anatomy of the trucks.
Sure enough, Evan's beady eyes landed on not only Minnie but (Y/n) as well. They were knelt in the back row on the end and Minnie was leaning back into (Y/n) like she was desperate to wriggle out of her mum's hold and run around the station.
"I didn't know," Evan whispered softly, barely turning his head in Eddie's direction because he couldn't look away from his girls.
The moment Minnie looked in his direction and realised he was looking at her, her whole face lit up. She smiled and her eyes shone like stars and she started to wriggle again. She sat up straight and squared her shoulders, moving to wave frantically in his direction until a grin broke out on Evan's face and he silently waved back.
Evan's original plan had been to hang somewhere out the way and then come down when Bobby had finished his speech. He had it in mind that he would come down and interact with the kids for a bit and then see them off. But now he knew Minnie was here, he couldn't find it in himself to disappear.
He stood next to Eddie, both of them only half listening to Bobby. Evan began to tap his foot, suddenly impatient for Bobby to finish so he could go over and talk to his girls.
Bobby couldn't have finished a moment too soon but he waved Hen over to have a quick chat to the group since she was a medic as well as a firefighter.
(Y/n) took that as her moment. She leaned forward and kissed Minnie's cheek, whispering in her ear quietly. "Let me go talk to Buck, then when Hen's finished, he's all yours. Okay?"
Minnie bubbled up excitedly and nodded, but she wouldn't look away from Hen just yet. Now she was interested just before the speeches were going to end.
Moving her hands to her knees, (Y/n) slowly pushed up from the floor that had turned her legs to jelly and made her knees harden like stone. She could feel her back clicking into place once she was up and she took a glance around the group before she moved towards Evan. Miss Harvey was stood near Bobby and the other two parents were stood off to one side, murmuring and smiling with Chimney. It would be fine for (Y/n) to talk to Evan, she would still be within close range of the kids in case they needed her.
(Y/n) ran her hand through her hair and moved over towards Evan who took a few steps away from Eddie to meet her at the side of the truck.
She noticed his eyes do a quick sweep around the station, making sure no one else - or the kids- were watching before he looped his arms around her waist and reeled her into his chest.
He ducked his head down and stole a kiss from her lips before she had chance to panic and look around as if they were teens trying not to get caught in school. His lips tasted like cherry cola and his fingers felt heavenly, squeezing into her hips while his chest leaned down into hers like he was trying to tilt (Y/n) backwards or lay her down on the floor.
She brought her hands up to cup the sides of his neck, smoothing her thumbs up and down behind his ears until he was shivering.
Their temples pressed together when they parted and the grin that lit up his face made Evan look like one of the school kids. A quiet "Hi," whispered from his lips into hers and he nudged the end of his nose along hers until (Y/n) was smiling and shaking her head.
"You didn't tell me you were coming here."
"It was a surprise."
"Well colour me surprised… I bet you didn't tell Minnie either, did you?" The hint of a smirk pulled at his lips while he let go of her hips so he could loop his arms fully around her waist and tug her closer until every ridge of her body was pressed up against him.
"Course I didn't, she'd of been screaming your name all day if I told her." As much as (Y/n) loved her daughter's enthusiasm, she didn't think everyone would appreciate Minnie's hyperness if she knew they were coming to see Evan.
The four year old would have been bouncing off the walls, telling everyone and proudly shouting Evan's name until they got here. At least this way both she and Evan got a lovely surprise and it stopped Minnie from getting worked up like a sugar rush.
"Well, I'm glad you're all at our station. I'll show you round in a bit." He leaned forward and pecked her temple, smiling to himself when (Y/n) buried her head beneath his chin and kissed his neck causing a shiver to roll down his spine.
He kept her burrowed away into his chest for a few more seconds, savouring the moment until he noticed Hen had finished her talk and the kids were starting to get up.
He knew Minnie would be heading their way any second now and then Evan would happily show her and a few of the kids around and answer any of their strange questions. He let his arms loosen around (Y/n) just enough for her to spin around in his hold so her back was snuggled into his chest and both of them were looking at the kids.
Minnie was stood with two other kids while the rest of them split up into groups and followed after Hen or Bobby.
Her hands began to itch at her sides and she couldn't stop herself from smiling when she looked over towards her mum and Evan. He was here. This was where he worked. This was the fire truck he drove and maybe the one that landed on his leg too. This was his other home that he was always telling her about.
"Is that your dad, the fireman?" Amber kept her chin tilted down and feebly pointed towards Evan. She had seen him with Minnie at school a few times, and Minnie did tell them last week that her dad was a fireman.
A beaming smile lit up Minnie's face as a rush of adrenaline flooded her stomach and she began to fidget from foot to foot. She nodded and pointed over at Evan which caught his attention and made him smile in her direction. And he watched as Minnie trotted towards him, both Amber and Miles in tow behind her.
"Yeah. That's my daddy."
Evan couldn't breathe.
All the air in his lungs suddenly evaporated; his lungs turned into balloons which popped and shrivelled up in his chest. His jaw hung open and his lips became dryer than the desert, but he couldn't find anything to say.
Minnie had never called him that before. When they first met, she used to call him Mister quite a lot, then when they became closer, she started calling him Buck. Even though she heard (Y/n) call him Evan, she never tried to call him that, it had always been Buck so far. She had never called him dad before or pointed him out and named him her dad to other people.
But what else could he be? What else could she call him when she saw him almost every day? He took her to school, he picked her up when she fell over, he tucked her in bed and took her out and went to the doctors with her and (Y/n). He introduced her to everyone as his 'little mouse' or 'my girl'.
And just a few weeks ago after Minnie commented that he was always telling (Y/n) that he loved her, he started to tell Minnie he loved her too. He never wanted to say that before in case it upset her or made her feel uneasy but just seeing her face light up when he told her, meant the whole world to Evan.
"My turn." Minnie held her arms out towards Evan, suddenly breaking him out of his trance.
He realised he was shaking when he unravelled his arms from (Y/n) who looked like she was on the verge of tears. Her hand moved to his shoulder while he leaned down and scooped Minnie up so he could cuddle her into his chest.
Her arms looped around his neck and Evan breathlessly kissed her cheek while he did his best to ward off the burning sensation behind his eyes that were threatening to spill tears. God, he hoped Minnie wasn't just saying this because her friends were nearby. He hoped that when he got home from work tonight, she would still call him that.
He hoped tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after, that Minnie was still going to call him her dad. He hoped she would introduce him to everyone as her dad. He could just see himself telling people he had a little girl, he could imagine showing the guys her picture and proudly saying that was his daughter.
"Hi, are you being good, little mouse?" He kissed her cheek again when she wrapped her arms around his neck and snuggled in close to him as she nodded and hummed.
His eyes darted from Minnie to (Y/n) when he suddenly realised that maybe, (Y/n) might not be happy about this sudden revelation.
Evan remembered the conversation they had not long after they started dating. He remembered every word of that chilling conversation where (Y/n) told him about Minnie's biological dad. Minnie had never met him, he didn't even know she existed.
Minnie had been the reason (Y/n) got out of her abusive relationship with her ex. She managed to get away from him and moved in with her sister until she found a place of her own. And Evan remembered everything (Y/n) told him about what her ex had done. There was no way (Y/n) could stay with him if she had Minnie and to protect Minnie, (Y/n) hadn't named anyone in the father's section on her birth certificate.
It suddenly occurred to Evan that maybe (Y/n) wouldn't be happy about this. Maybe she wouldn't want Minnie to have a dad or call someone her dad. But Minnie had never known her dad, she had grown up thinking she just didn't have one and that had been fine until Evan walked into their lives and changed their perspectives.
But the way (Y/n) smiled and the single tear that rolled down her face told Evan she wasn't displeased at all. She was thrilled.
She stood close to Amber and Miles in case they had any questions or wanted to go and take a look around. But Miles took a step forward towards Evan and gingerly tugged on his trouser leg to gain his attention.
"Did a truck really land on your leg?"
Surprise flooded Evan's eyes and his jaw hung loose again while he tried to think how to respond to that. But all that came to mind was the fact that clearly, Minnie had been talking about him. She had been telling her friends what Evan did for a living and about his accident. Clearly she loved him enough to want to brag about him and talk about him to her class. and that thought melted Evan's heart.
Evan looked between Minnie who had her cheek pressed into his shoulder, and the young boy who was staring at both his legs intently. He looked like he wanted to pull on Evan's trousers and peek beneath them at his legs. And Evan would bet that the young boy thought Evan might have some kind of prosthetic.
"Uh, yeah, yeah it did." He nodded and leaned backwards a little so Minnie could rest better against his chest.
"Wow. So- so you're like superman?"
"Well, not qui-"
"Yeah he is! Show him your leg, daddy." Minnie wriggled around in his arms, shimmying down his chest a little until she could grab at the waistband of his trousers.
For a dreaded second, Evan thought she was going to undo his belt and try to pull his pants down to show his scar. But she only tugged on his pant leg to get him to take the hint. She wanted him to pull the pant leg up so he could show Miles his scars.
Evan rolled his lips together to supress a smile and juggled Minnie in his right arm so that he could scrunch his trouser leg up in his other hand. He pulled it up towards his knee, showing just enough of his tattered, scarred leg to make Miles gasp and grin like he'd seen one of the seven wonders of the world.
The young boy simply stared at Evan's leg, unable to look away even when Evan rolled down his trouser leg again.
He carefully leaned forward and planted Minnie back down on her feet, but when she clutched his hand and held it to her chest, he smiled. He stayed slightly stooped over so she could keep hold of him while (Y/n) looked between Miles and Amber.
"Alright, who wants to look round the fire trucks?"
When the pair of them nodded, (Y/n) guided them over towards Miss Harvey and Bobby who were with five other kids looking round the first fire truck. She noticed Hen guide the other half of the class towards the ambulance to let them take a look around and show them what each appliance and equipment piece was.
Once the pair of them were back with the group, following Bobby's lead like he had put them all under a trance, (Y/n) slowly headed back over to Evan and Minnie. Her hands moved up and down her sides to try and remain calm, but she didn't know what to do with herself.
Minnie had never asked about her dad before, and (Y/n) had always been grateful. She was always relieved her daughter never wondered why she didn't seem to have a father figure or why she didn't have a dad to come and visit her and take her out like other kids. She seemed content just to have (Y/n).
And she had been so happy that Minnie took to Evan so easily and attached herself to him. But somehow, (Y/n) still didn't think that Minnie would want to call Evan her dad, not yet anyway.
She smiled as she approached them and crouched down in front of Minnie who was still clinging to Evan's hand that she seemed to have confiscated and pinned to her chest.
Her hands reached out to hold Minnie's waist and tug her closer while Evan shimmied his hand out of her hold so he could rest his hand on her back instead.
"So… you, you've got a new name for Buck?" When Minnie didn't answer, Evan crouched down beside her so they were all level.
"You've never called me that before, mouse."
The way she looked down at her shoes made Evan's heart flip. She looked so sweet, so innocent and worried as if she thought she might have done something wrong by calling him her dad. It would never be something bad in their eyes, but both (Y/n) and Evan would have thought they would of gotten some warning first. Which made them wonder why Minnie had suddenly come out with it today of all days.
"Everyone was talking about their dads, so… so can't you be mine?" Minnie shifted a little so she could go back to holding Evan's hand and she started to sway it back and forth between them like their hands were some kind of swing or a toy to be entertained.
For a few seconds, Evan focused on controlling his breathing so he didn't go into a fluttering panic. And he looked to the left, locking his eyes on (Y/n) so he could gauge her face for a reaction.
This wasn't his question to answer, it was hers. He couldn't overstep the mark or set the boundaries, it had to be (Y/n)'s choice no matter how thrilled Evan was that Minnie clearly wanted this.
When (Y/n) nodded, Evan felt like his heart had exploded in his chest and a tingling sensation shot through his arms right down to his fingertips. He let a soft grin overtake his features and he reached out for Minnie, unhooking their hands so he could hold her sides and gently twist her in his direction.
"I'd love to."
He braced his knees and levelled his weight out in his boots when Minnie slammed into his chest and deadlocked her arms around his neck.
The sweetest smile (Y/n)had ever seen fluttered across Evan's lips and she couldn't help but lean forward to kiss that smile and see if it was as sweet and sugary as it looked. She smoothed her hand up and down his shoulder before she glanced over to the left when she heard Miss Harvey switching the groups around. They wouldn't be here for much longer before they all would be getting ready to leave.
"Let's go take a look at the trucks then, baby, let dad get back to work." It felt strange to say but somehow, it rolled off the tongue like magic.
"Off you go, I'll see you when I finish work tonight, okay?" Evan pecked her cheek when she finally untangled herself from him and he couldn't help but kiss her temple too as he pushed up to stand tall once again. He murmured a soft "See you soon," in (Y/n)'s ear, dancing his fingertips along her hip while he kissed her quick.
"Bye daddy," Minnie cast a quick look over her shoulder, one hand tangled with (Y/n)'s and her other hand waving across to Evan as if he couldn't spot her in the small crowd.
His smile brightened and his breaths came out shaky as he waved back at her, his other hand tucked into his pocket while he leaned back against the pillar.
Their fire house had been taken off all calls for two hours, dispatch was redirecting all calls to the nearby stations so no calls came through and disrupted the school fieldtrip. That meant Evan still had a while to mill about the station and tidy up or get a drink and amuse himself until the kids left and they were allowed to take calls again.
And it felt like a good thing that they weren't going out on any calls at the moment because Evan was running on a high. Adrenaline was fueling his system and he felt like he had taken an overdose with how lightheaded he was. It felt like he was walking on cloud nine and he didn't ever want to come down from this feeling.
The smile wouldn't leave his lips and his head tilted to one side while he watched both girls head back over to the group and follow Bobby who was showing them all the different compartments and aspects of the truck.
"What's got you smiling?" Chimney brought his cup of coffee to his lips and raised a brow when he looked up at Evan. There was an unusually happy smile on his face, even for him, and it had Chimney looking round the station to try and find out what was so funny.
But he wasn't prepared for the answer as Evan slouched down against the pillar, dipping his chin towards his chest as a blush started to taint his cheeks.
"My daughter."
1K notes · View notes
bro-atz · 8 months
Text
betrayal [trope — mingi]
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inspired by: shut up flower boy band — kdrama + this post
pair: rockstar!mingi/afab!reader
word count: 4.5k
content: angst, smut, heartbreak, mingi looks like he could kill you but is the sweetest cinnamon roll, (can you believe mingi is the betrayer gasp), reference to past drug use, drinking, smoking, violence, mingi gets beat up, (seonghwa's kind of a dick... and lowkey like a disney villain whoops), safe sex, car sex, bedroom sex, hand kink, tattoo kink, consensual sex
author's note: i actually had a completely different idea in mind, but then @byuntrash101 posted this and i immediately had a much better idea for the series so thank you for the inspiration love 💕 also someone for the love of god tell me how to stop turning drabbles into novellas thx
trope masterlist | part one | part two
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Mingi flung his head back and sighed loudly in the dressing room as he stood before the vanity. He felt your presence behind him and immediately spun around, his shaggy hair covering the sadness in his eyes. You took a hesitant step towards him before he lashed out.
“What are you doing here?” Mingi spat out.
You winced. Sure, Mingi looked like he could kill someone, but in the time you knew him, he was the sweetest fucking cinnamon roll.
“I c-came to support you and the boys,” you murmured— it was the truth. You just wanted to support the band you had come to love, but honestly, you also wanted to see Mingi because you missed him. You missed him so fucking much.
“I told you to never let me see you again, Y/N. What is so fucking hard to understand about that?” Mingi huffed and ran his fingers through his hair, messing it up further.
“But why?” your voice wavered, tears threatening to spill out of your eyes. Tears actually did spill out of your eyes when you cried, “Why are you doing this? Can you tell me what I did wrong? Please? You break up with me over a phone call and tell me you want nothing to do with me, but you never said why!”
Mingi flinched. He hated seeing you cry, and he desperately wanted to just hug you and dry your tears, but he couldn’t. He had to stay away from you, and he couldn’t figure out a way to keep you away without just telling you to stay away. He wasn’t one to cheat or to move on so easily— hell, he had been performing for years, and it took him years to find someone like you, someone who could make everything go away, someone he could actually fall in love with— so he couldn’t bring himself to lie to you. He just needed you to trust him and to just stay away.
“Just get out of my face. Don’t ever come near me again,” Mingi bit out.
He didn’t even brush past you on his way out. He completely avoided you. You fell to your knees and cried as the curtains to the room swished upon his departure.
Before he could even get two steps away from the dressing room, Mingi ran into the one person he did not want to run into.
“Dude, I did what you fucking asked, okay?” he held his hands up and took a step away from him. “I didn’t do shit.”
“I know. I just came to collect,” he responded. “We’ll be out of your hair.”
Mingi nodded and quickly got away before the conversation could persist. He left the venue and slammed the door on his way out. He wanted to just run away into the night, but it was pouring. Of course it was raining. He settled for leaning against the side of the establishment and fishing his carton of cigarettes and his favorite lighter out of his back pocket. He lit one up and took a deep drag before the pain in his heart started to subside.
“I thought I’d find you here,” Mingi heard the bassist’s voice behind him.
“Not now, Yeosang,” Mingi murmured.
“No, dude. Spit it out. One day, Y/N was the love of your life, and the next you’re screaming at her to leave you alone? Nothing’s adding up,” Yeosang pushed further.
“Yeah, we’ll only be able to help you if you tell us what’s going on,” the keyboardist, Yunho, added.
Mingi found himself boxed in by the members of his band and let out his twentieth deep sigh of the day. “Fine,” Mingi mumbled as he took another drag from his cigarette. “But after I tell you guys, I don’t want to hear another word of it. I don’t want to hear her name ever again, got it?”
The men nodded, allowing Mingi to finally reveal what had happened between the two of you.
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“Hey, who was that preppy chick in the front row?” the red-headed drummer asked his fellow bandmates.
“Beats me, dude,” Yunho shrugged. “She definitely doesn’t belong here, though.”
“Yeah, she’s like super preppy and shit,” the guitarist giggled.
“Isn’t that your type though, Wooyoung?” the drummer pointed out.
“…Shut up, San,” Wooyoung grumbled.
“It is weird, though. I’ve seen her so many times at our concerts. Is she one of our groupies?” Yeosang asked.
“Are groupies even a thing anymore?” Mingi furrowed his eyebrows.
“She’s definitely not a drug dealer from the looks of her,” San mused out loud.
“Okay, that was one time, and she seemed excited to be considered a groupie. I wasn’t talking to her because she sold— and I’m not about that shit! I haven’t done any more since I met you guys!”
“Mingi! Chill, that’s not what he was talking about!” Yunho grabbed Mingi’s shoulder to calm him down before he could throw a tantrum. “Besides, you almost went to jail. We know you don’t do drugs, so you don’t gotta get all defensive on us.”
“Yeah, okay, fine,” Mingi reclaimed his shoulder and adjusted his sweater before plopping to the ground.
“Anyway, that preppy girl— how many shows has she been at now?”
“Eight,” Yeosang answered immediately, only for four pairs of eyes to shoot directly to him and widen. “Not that I’ve been counting! …I’m just observant guys.”
“”Observant”,” Wooyoung mocked.
Before Yeosang could get up to slap the giggling guitarist silly, there was a knock on the dressing room door. Mingi got up and answered the door to see one of the stage managers standing there, a look of irritation on their face.
“Yes?”
“I thought we said you weren’t allowed to give anyone backstage access,” the stage manager said with disgust.
“We didn’t though?”
“Uh, actually…” San interjected and slowly raised his hand, the other four bandmates immediately groaning and yelling at the boy.
“Come on, man— We just talked about this!”
“You seriously suck.”
“That email was literally sent for you, San!”
“Sorry, sorry! I’ll handle it!” San held his hands up and scurried out of the room.
“Someone go with him to make sure he isn’t going to do stupid shit,” Yunho sighed while rolling his eyes.
“On it,” Mingi grumbled.
Leaving the other three to apologize profusely to the stage manager, Mingi left in pursuit of San. He got into the lobby of the venue and saw San with his arm already around the waist of the girl he had invited back to the dressing room— that bastard. Mingi made a mad dash for them, only to turn the corner and nearly crash into you, the preppy girl that looked like she didn’t belong at a rock concert, the preppy girl that Wooyoung (and also maybe Yeosang) had a tiny crush on. Well, he nearly crashed into you, but that didn’t stop you from tripping over your own two feet and falling back on your butt.
“Oh shit, I’m so sorry,” Mingi apologized as he held out a hand to help you up.
“Can you—” you were about to tell the tall figure off, only to see his face and recognize him as the lead vocalist of your current favorite band: IT’S YOU(TH). “— sign my bra?”
You immediately clapped your hands over your mouth, your face burning red from sheer embarrassment. Mingi couldn’t help but laugh— so many girls had asked him to sign their bras in the past, but no one was ever shy about it, so your reaction to the words flying out of your mouth was honestly hysterical.
“I mean, I can if you want,” Mingi replied, a chuckle still lingering in his voice.
“R-really?” you squeaked.
One signed bra, eleven concerts, sixteen dates, and eighty-eight days later, Mingi was absolutely in love with you. Of course, he would never admit it first, but everyone in IT’S YOU(TH)— and honestly the whole damn world— could tell that the lead vocalist and guitarist of the young up-and-coming rock band was head-in-the-clouds, rose-tinted-glasses, cupid-shot-an-arrow-through-his-soul in love.
“Okay, Miss Astronomer, what am I looking at?” Mingi whispered to you, his lips dangerously near your ear.
IT’S YOU(TH) just finished their set for the night, and Mingi had promised you that he would be right by your side as soon as the concert ended. The two of you had driven way out of the city to the local rural area and laid in the wheat fields while staring up at the night sky. You had promised Mingi a night under the stars when he found out you spent four years of further education to study astronomy and physics, and you were finally delivering on that promise.
“So, that right there?” you whispered back as you started your astronomy lesson. “That’s you.”
“What?”
“That’s the Leo constellation,” you giggled— Mingi wasn’t really one for astrology.
“Oh, I get it,” Mingi responded with a half-hearted laugh, then genuinely asked, “But where is it?”
“Right there,” you responded as you traced the sky.
“Where?”
“Here,” you reached for Mingi’s hand and held it so that his pointer finger would be out. You then brought his hand to the sky and traced it for him with his hand. “Right… There…”
Mingi shifted ever so slightly closer to you the second you held his hand, and you felt his breath hit your neck as he rubbed his nose against your ear. You stifled a little moan mixed with a giggle and brought his hand down, his fingers lacing with yours as he did so.
“Can I… Tell you about my favorite star?” you asked him as you turned your head to face his.
“Tell me.”
You completely turned your body and scooted closer to him, his own body turning so he could face you properly. He let go of your hand so he could move his arm under your head to rest, and you snuggled into his soft chest. You placed your hand lightly on his chest and whispered, “This one. You’re my favorite star.”
“God, princess, you’re so cheesy,” Mingi rolled his eyes, but he had the biggest grin on his face.
“You’re also the brightest star, the prettiest star, the sexiest star,” you continued.
“I’m sexy, you say,” Mingi’s baritone voice dropped further, sending tingles of excitement down your spine.
“Of course you’re sexy. Your messy, dark hair, your smokey eyeshadow, your dark eyeliner,” you started listing, your fingers running through his hair then tiptoeing down his face. “Your beautifully angled nose, your… Soft… Lips…”
Your eyes lingered on his lips— eighty-eight days, and he had yet to kiss you. Well, he had kissed you, but he gave you those fleeting kisses, the kisses so quick that if you blinked, you’d miss them. Or, he’d kiss you “properly”, but those were usually on your forehead or cheek or shoulder— basically everywhere but your lips.
So, when he held your chin with a soft yet somehow still firm grip and tilted your chin up, your entire body flushed with warmth, with anticipation. Then, when his lips pressed against yours, you felt like you were soaring. You always imagined his lips were going to be soft since you spent so much of your time staring at them when he was on stage singing his heart out, and they were so much softer than you could imagine.
One kiss, then he leaned back, his eyes slightly darting back and forth as he observed your facial expression. Your rosy cheeks and small smile, your eyes turning into half crescents and sparkling brilliantly— God, Mingi loved all of it. So he kissed you again, a little more drive and passion behind the second one, and the intensity of his kisses only increased the more he kissed you.
You clung to him as his hand cupped your face, his long fingers brushing the nape of your neck and making you even more flustered. Your breaths and sighs mixed with his as your gentle string of kisses got heavier and hotter.
“What else?” Mingi asked in between kisses breathlessly. “What else do you find sexy?”
“Your neck tattoos.” Kiss. “Your hand tattoos.” Kiss. “Your nails.” Kiss. “Your rings.” Kiss. “Your style.” Kiss. “Your voice.” Kiss. “You.”
“Fuck, you’re so perfect, princess,” Mingi groaned, sending shivers down your spine.
Mingi forcefully disconnected himself from you, making you whimper and nearly whine. He stood up quickly, and before you could even begin to pick yourself up, he scooped you off the ground and carried you to his car. Unlocking it, he laid you down in the back seat and got in with you, his lips mashing into yours the second the car door closed.
His body rolled into yours as his hands roamed your body, your own restless hands tugging at his clothes, begging him to take them off. The sounds of your feverish lip locks with Mingi overpowered the rustling of your clothes and the clinks of his belt as they hit the ground one by one, leaving you completely naked and Mingi in just his underwear. You didn’t know when he managed to, but Mingi grabbed the condom he had stashed in his wallet and tucked it into the waistband of his underwear.
You wanted to ask why he was waiting to, for lack of better words, give it to you, but all of the thoughts and questions in your head disappeared in a heartbeat when Mingi traced two light fingers along your folds. A sigh of pleasure rippled out of your lungs when you felt his fingers slide through your slick and curl within you, the tips of his fingers digging softly into your walls. You could feel his rings press against your folds— they had yet to enter you. But, when he pulled his fingers out then shoved them right back in, he went further, his rings pushing past and into your cunt.
“Oh shit! Mingi!” you moaned loudly as he fingered you consistently and roughly. “Fuck, it feels so good!”
“Just keep moaning prettily like that for me, princess,” Mingi rasped as he added a third finger to the mix, his other hand beginning to massage your breast.
Your nails left red marks on his shoulders as you clung to him, your fingers and toes curling with every stroke. You bit your lower lip every so often so keep your moans to a minimum, but all hope was lost when his thumb started circling your clit, one circle for every stroke, and it definitely didn’t help when he started spreading his fingers inside you and pinched and tugged your nipple. You raked your fingers through Mingi’s hair and pulled him closer to you as you felt your orgasm wash over you, your loud moan sounding through the car.
“Princess, did you cum?” Mingi asked, although he didn’t need to know because he could feel your walls convulsing around his fingers.
You let out a little noise and nodded weakly, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes. Mingi caressed your face and wiped the tears away quickly before kissing you softly.
“Mingi,” you whimpered in between kisses. “I want you in me.”
You thought was going to laugh at the desperation in your voice, but he did anything but. He sat up and stroked your thigh gently as he said, “I’m going to need you to relax, okay?”
Mingi shed his boxers to reveal his massive cock. He just told you to relax, yet you couldn’t help but tense up when you saw what he was working with because he was fucking huge. It only made you even more fearful when you saw the letters XXL on his condom packet.
“Princess, just relax, okay?” Mingi instructed again softly.
He leaned down again and distracted you with his soft lips. His large hands went under your thighs and pushed your legs up, the length of his cock rubbing against your clit before pushing in slowly. You did your best to focus on kissing Mingi and tighten your hold on him to get yourself to loosen up to the best of your ability, but that didn’t stop you from feeling his like cock was going to tear you a new one.
Mingi kept his lips on yours as he moved slowly and calmly, his dick not completely leaving your body nor going all the way inside. He was just warming you up, but you felt like you were about to combust into flames with the way he was making you feel. You moaned and cried into his kisses while he grunted, his own restraint starting to weaken— he didn’t want to hurt you, at least not the first time the two of you had sex together.
The car bounced and shook when Mingi’s last string of self-control snapped. His cock filled you up and went so far deep inside you that you thought he was going to bruise your cervix. The sound of your sloppy kisses and heavy breaths and the raunchy squelches of his cock moving in and out of your soaking cunt harmonized, the sounds nearly escaping the confines of the car. What did escape, though, was your crying moan when Mingi rubbed against your G-spot and hit your cervix at the same time. The two of you came together, Mingi’s low groan ringing in your ears.
You were practically knocked out when Mingi pulled out of you, your weak and trembling hands struggling to push your sweaty hair away from your forehead. Mingi watched with slight amusement as you slowly started to regain your sanity.
“You look so pretty right now, princess,” Mingi said softly, nearly cooing. “I just want to see you disheveled like this under me all the time.”
“Tell me when and where, and I’m there, rockstar.”
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After 100 days of being together, the problem started to arise.
“Hey, pretty princess,” Mingi greeted you as he walked into the coffee shop for your coffee date.
“Hey there, rockstar,” you greeted right back.
Mingi leaned down and kissed your lips quickly before taking the seat in front of you. He reached for your hands and held them, your hands fitting perfectly in his.
“Did you order yet?” he asked.
“Yeah, for both of us.”
Right on cue, one of the baristas announced your drinks were ready. Mingi got up and quickly returned with the drinks in hand. He set both the drinks down, your eager hands immediately picking up your iced one.
You only got to take one sip of your drink when your phone started ringing. You looked at the caller id and immediately declined the call before setting your phone face down on the table, Mingi warily watching all of your actions.
“Who was that?”
“Spam,” you replied with a frown— you hated lying to him, but to be fair, the caller was spamming you, and you had no intention of ever picking up the calls.
“Ugh, hate that,” Mingi grimaced.
“Tell me about it.”
The phone calls persisted. Every time the two of you went on a date or hung out or did anything together, you would get the “spam” calls. Mingi didn’t think much of it at first because spam calls usually were very annoying, but he started to worry when you phone would ring two, three, even four times in a row no matter how many times you declined the call.
“Hnngh— Harder! Fuck— Faster!” you shrilled as Mingi fucked you from behind. “Ugh, Mingi, so good!”
Your face was nearly smashed into your mattress as Mingi ruthlessly stuffed his large cock in your tight hole. He grunted loudly and affirmatively as he gripped your ass harder, his rings digging into your skin, your skin getting redder with his occasional slap.
Mingi was the first to notice. Your phone was on the nightstand, and it was ringing. He slowed his pace so he could reach over and grab it to decline the call on your behalf. He tossed your phone onto the bed near your hand and upped his tempo while pulling your ass higher into the sky.
And yet, your phone rang again. You quickly declined it before Mingi could notice, but he did. It was when it rang for the third time that Mingi had enough.
“Princess,” he grunted. “Gimme your phone.”
“W-why?”
“Just gimme.”
You unlocked your phone and pushed it backwards towards him— you trusted Mingi, so you had no problem doing as he asked. And Mingi didn’t abuse that trust. He simply opened the call log and saw the sea of red missed or declined calls, all of them from the same, unsaved number. He blocked the number and locked your phone before setting it back on the nightstand where it originally was, then he continued to fuck your brains out.
Mingi wanted it to be done then and there, which technically it was because you blocked the number, but that didn’t stop a bad feeling from manifesting within him.
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“Yo, Mingi, you gonna meet us at the restaurant?” Yunho asked the singer.
“Yeah, I’m gonna call Y/N first—”
“You mean your pretty princess?” San teased— your name on Mingi’s phone was “pretty princess”, and the guys teased him all the time for it.
“Your pretty preppy princess?” Wooyoung piled on.
“Yes, my pretty princess. Go choke on some soju,” Mingi frowned and shooed the boys away.
The four other members of IT’S YOU(TH) skipped cheerfully away, leaving Mingi alone by his car. He started calling you only for someone to grab his phone.
“IT’S YOU(TH), huh? Cute.”
Mingi whipped around, his jaw tensing as he got ready to beat the shit out of whoever stole his phone from him.
“What’s your fucking problem, dude? Give my phone back, or I’ll beat the shit out of you,” Mingi warned aggressively.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” the same voice said.
Stepping closer to him, a man with a flowery charm but deadly eyes appeared before Mingi. He dangled his phone as he stood before him, riling Mingi up further. He tightened his fist and prepared to swing, only for two pairs of arms to restrain him. The two people behind him brought Mingi down to his knees and kept him there, one man kneeling on his back while the other had a fistful of Mingi’s hair tight in his grasp.
“What the fuck do you want?” Mingi asked, his anger intensifying. “If it’s money, I’ll give you however much you want.”
“I don’t need your money, guitar boy. I want Y/N.”
“What?”
The man crouched in front of Mingi and held his phone up, the lock screen of you and Mingi shining brightly. He pointed at you and said, “I want Y/N back.”
“Oh, you’re a crazy ex-boyfriend,” Mingi couldn’t help but scoff. “Listen, she’s not one for me to give back. She likes me, so she’s dating me. She doesn’t like you, so she’s not dating you. It’s her choice, dude.”
Without a warning, the guy punched Mingi in the face. Mingi’s cheek immediately started bleeding, his eye throbbing with pain. Before he could recover from the shock of the punch, the man sent a mean hook into his jaw, Mingi’s head flying to the side. The guy behind him held his head back up, forcing Mingi to make eye contact with the asshole that just punched him.
“She didn’t break up with me because she stopped liking me, you asshole. She broke up with me because of you.”
Mingi didn’t bother responding— villains usually always revealed everything without being prompted.
“Ever since she went and saw your cute little band, she told me she “fell in love with you” and that she would literally “do anything” for you. Someone like you with your fucking pretty boy make up and your painted nails and your criminal face tattoo,” the man sneered in Mingi’s face. “Someone like you of all fucking people.”
“Seonghwa,” one of the men behind Mingi uttered. “Get to the point.”
“Shut the fuck up, Hongjoong,” the man, who Mingi could now identify as Seonghwa, snapped. Turning back to Mingi, Seonghwa continued, “She was still dating me the day you signed her fucking bra. And then the concert after that, you fucking asked her out, and she said yes and dropped me in a heartbeat.”
“How is that my fault?! I asked her out, but she could’ve said no!” Mingi argued.
“It’s you and your fucking band’s fault for even existing, you asshole!”
Seonghwa grabbed the collar of Mingi’s shirt and pulled him up, the two other men behind Mingi still holding onto him.
“Hongjoong, Jongho, let go. I want to beat this guy up,” Seonghwa hissed.
“Seonghwa, calm down—”
“Fucking drop his ass!”
Hongjoong and Jongho let go of Mingi, and Seonghwa immediately swung before Mingi could stop him. Mingi fell to the ground, allowing Seonghwa to start kicking the shit out of him. He couldn’t even get away from Seonghwa, but thankfully, his two friends held him back.
“Do you really think Y/N is going to want to be with you if you do shit like this?”
“Don’t give her a reason to hate you, dude.”
“Ugh, fine!” Seonghwa admitted defeat before shaking his friends off. “But you, Song Mingi, you better break up with her or else.”
“Or else what? You’ll kill me?” Mingi scoffed.
“No. I’ll destroy the rest of your band.”
The color in Mingi’s face drained. He could handle someone threatening him, but the thought of anyone from IT’S YOU(TH) getting hurt because of him or disbanding because of him was terrifying to him.
“Y-you… You wouldn’t.”
“I can, and I will. Break up with Y/N, and you and your band can sing your silly songs for the rest of time. Stay with her, and I’ll drive everyone in your life away from you.” Seonghwa tossed Mingi’s phone back to him. He crouched in front of him and added, “You have ’til the next concert.”
With that, Seonghwa and his friends left Mingi next to his car bleeding, afraid, and alone.
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“That’s why your eye was black?” Yeosang asked with shock.
“Yes.”
“Mingi… I’m so sorry,” San sounded like he was about to cry.
“Yeah, you shouldn’t have to choose like that. Her ex-boyfriend is a complete psychopath!” Wooyoung added just as emotionally.
The three boys smothered Mingi with hugs while Yunho stood a little bit away, a frown plastered to his face.
“Alright, but now you all will drop it, right?” Mingi grunted as he tried to escape the group hug.
The boys nodded and verbally agreed. They started to head back inside, but Mingi stayed outside to burn through another cigarette. Yunho stayed with him.
“Don’t say anything, man. I know you,” Mingi sighed as he fished out his carton of cigarettes again.
Yunho didn’t say anything. Instead, he gave Mingi a silent hug, his hand petting the back of the singer’s head. Tears welled up in Mingi’s eyes. He dropped his face into Yunho’s shoulder and hugged the keyboardist back as he silently sobbed about his broken heart.
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trope masterlist
trope taglist: @eyeryis @sinnarols @k-hotchoisan @aaasia111 @sunshineangel-reads @hwallazia @dazzlingstarrs @hyukssunflower
network: @cromernet
apply for the taglist here!
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reminiscentreader · 8 days
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*sigh..* my controversial tig opinions
IM GONNA GET THE WORST ONES PUT THE WAY FIRST AND DISCLAIMER THIS IS MY FAVOURITE FANDOM EVER I LOVE ALL OF YOU SO SO MUCH THIS IS JUST MY OPINION HOPEFULLY I DONT UPSET ANYONE AND IM SO SORRY IM NOT AN ANNOYING GRAYSON DICKRIDER !!! NONE OF THESE ARE AIMED🥰🥰
im so sorry for this one but people need to shut up about avery and jameson AND BY THIS I DO NOT MEAN STOP MAKING FICS AND TALKING ABOUT THEM i mean like stop saying you hated the grandest game because they weren’t in it, they’ve had three books and are now getting another novella, please just let other ships have theyre time
stemming off that one YALL ARE GONNA HATE ME FOR THIS ONE BUT AVERY AND JAMESON ARE MY FAVS EVER OK!! its not illegal for someone to prefer lyra and grayson over avery and jameson, i know that avery and jameson are the ogs but people can have preferences, yes even averygraysons as long as they arent rude
lyra hate is too much omg, ya’ll didnt even give her a chance before you started saying she was avery 2.0 and a whining bitch and she disappointed you, let her breath ffs, the reasons are so dumb as well, some because they cant stand to see grayson happy, some purely because shes NOT avery, i would go to hell and back for my girl you just dont get her.
on the topic of tig girls, they get so so much hate, i know it doesnt really happen in here but on over platforms all them get so much hate, gigi and max constantly being called annoying but not a single person says that about xander, people HATE savannah and yes i know she was kind of really annoying in tgg but so was grayson in the first book, and grayson got so much better and so will savannah, AND DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED ON AVERY NO ONE GETS HER LIKE ME ISTG IF I CATCH A SINGLE PERSON HATING ON HER. plus ive even seen some libby hate which i cannot even process 🥲
next one isnt that controversial but thea is not a ‘bad bitch.’ shes a mean girl, this isnt really specific to thea but in so many fandoms i see characters be cast as bad bitched when tegu are really just mean, theres a biggg difference between iconic and mean, we need to stop normalising being mean.
THATS IT FOR NOW IM SO SO SO SORRY OF THIS OFFENDED YOU, PLEASE PRIVATE MESSAGE ME / COMMENT IF IT DID ID HAPPILY DELTE THIS I AM SO SORRY I LOVE YOU ALL SO SO MUCH 🥰☺️
tagging some people who commented on my other post @x-liv25-jamieswife @arias-archive @balladofareader @clarissaweasley-10 @sheisntyou
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magistralucis · 10 months
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Conflict in Literature + Necron Books
(Read more for titles and notes, watch out for spoilers)
Man vs. Nature - Devourer This is not the only necron vs. tyranid lit, but I thought the cover illustrated the conflict best. Out of all the horribad things in WH40K, the tyranids tend to be presented as the closest faction to a natural disaster; certainly in Devourer they do not logically justify their presence, nor can they be reasoned with, not by the Blood Angels or Anrakyr or the Tomb World he's trying to wake. Not mindless, but an amoral happenstance, like nature itself.
Man vs. Society - The Lords of Borsis Necron court intrigue played straight, with a sprinkle of delusion on the side. Since this story revolves entirely around the schemings and plottings of necron(tyr) society, with changes in dynastic hierarchy as the final objective, it fits best here.
Man vs. Technology - Indomitus This is an awkward placement, since Indomitus was not, well... a compelling story, with most of its tropes not being explored beyond their first introduction. But it is the most bare-bones way of describing this book's premise. Humans battling a robotic malignancy, albeit with a Bolivian Army Ending, which doesn't conclude the plot in either direction 😞
Man vs. Man - The Twice-Dead King: Ruin Ruin is an exceptionally deep novel, and fits every conflict listed here. It was the hardest one to place, because it's not so much choosing the one that goes best, rather crossing off every other conflict not central to the story. Both gods and the absence-of-gods are a problem in Ruin, as well as nature and technology, but they're not at the heart of Oltyx's problem. Society could be a big one, since Oltyx is an exile - but he’s not trying to antagonize his society throughout Ruin, he's trying to work with it, or at least save it from doom. Self and reality both count, but fit better with other stories in the Nate Crowley corpus. So man vs. man it is. His most important clashes are all with individuals ('man') - Djoseras, Unnas, Hemiun, arguably Yenekh in reserve - and by the end, his crownworld is overrun by the Imperium, who will become the antagonists for the second part of his tale. Man vs. 'Man', with a capital M.
Man vs. Self - The Twice-Dead King: Reign Again, this could have gone elsewhere. In man vs. reality, perhaps, or the god-related ones. But the self is where the conflict of Reign truly lies, since Oltyx's greatest obstacle is himself, and it is his inability to accept that which brings his dynasty close to destruction. Thank goodness he got over that one.
Man vs. Reality - Severed The emotional and philosophical core of this novella relies on it. Zahndrekh's inability to see the world as it is brings about the whole plot, and is at the centre of all of Obyron's musings. Interestingly, reality does not win at the end, at least not what necrons envision reality to be: a place of cold hard facts, with no room for emotion. Zahndrekh would rather dream the impossible dream, which might be the healthier way to deal with their situation.
Man vs. God - The Infinite and the Divine 🚨 𝔻𝕆 ℕ𝕆𝕋 𝔹𝔼 𝔻𝔼ℂ𝔼𝕀𝕍𝔼𝔻 🚨
Man vs. No God - Crusade: Pariah Nexus Not a novel, not 100% about necrons, not even out yet as of now (Dec 2023). This is an inherently problematic conflict for WH40K, because gods are very real and very present in that universe... here I'm only thinking about the necron perspective, and the civil war unfolding in their lore. They banded together in a shared purpose eons ago, destroying the Old Ones who oppressed them, and sundering the star gods who subjected them to biotransference. Now they are as antigod as they could be, and they did not retain their bonds, they have once again turned on each other. So it goes.
Man vs. Author - Codex: Necrons (10th Ed.) (Collector's Ed.) James Workshop knows what they did. 😑
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bonefall · 4 months
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The new arc’s first blurb came, and seems to be about Tawnypelt, Leafstar, and some random apprentice molly named Moonpaw btw. Can’t wait to see how awful that turns out.
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I'm going to go in with low expectations this time around. Admittedly, I'm not fond of the idea of following cats who I feel have massively overstayed their welcome. Leafstar should have been dead a long time ago, and Tawnypelt has been active for 20 years of arcs plus a novella.
When I say "I'd like characters from previous arcs to continue their stories" I don't mean that I want popular old cats to get forced into the spotlight constantly. I mean that I want interesting background characters like Icewing, Fringewhisker, or Breezepelt to get expanded upon with full POVs. It's a bummer that the Erins seem so bad at building up new characters that they're still relying on cats from Arc 1.
But, hey, maybe this will surprise me.
Moonpaw though... Moonpaw I've got my eye on. I'm listening. I'm paying attention. TBC and ASC had a "formula" for the three POV characters; Boy/Girl/The Horrors. It's not lost on me that Changing Skies seems to have dropped the Boy and the Girl, but kept The Horrors. I hope this signals that they listened to the positive feedback on Shadowsight and Frostpaw.
Other assorted thoughts;
I'm not even going to pretend to be kind to this; ANOTHER construction plot is just bad.
They're boring. I do not want another whingefest about how it's wrong and bad and mean to hurt humans for some reason.
Bone "Speckletail's Bulldozer" Fall: these darn cats better attack a bulldozer or I'm out
And goddddd why are we having ANOTHER "StarClan's really gonna be gone this time!" Plot. This is the third in a row.
I was already on board with it the first time. Burn the heavens down or shut up at this point.
Plus... it seems like a lot of this arc is going to be based around Tawnypelt trying to argue with people to get the plot to happen, Moonpaw warning everyone the plot is going to happen while they don't listen to her, and Leafstar acting in whatever way will be most annoying for the plot to not happen.
I cannot stress enough how much I dread this. I am so sick of buying books to hear about characters doing everything in their power to accomplish as little as possible. I can call my congressman for FREE.
Moonpaw though. I love her name. I hope that she has a strong personality to help her stand out from Frost and Shadow.
I'm hoping that she's more on the rough side than the sensitive side, tbh. Something I enjoy about Nightheart is that he CAUSES shit to happen because he's impulsive.
My ideal scenario for this arc is Leafstar trying to keep Tawnypelt and Moonpaw on two leashes and absolutely failing. PLEASE let my girls break stuff.
I hope that Leafstar dies in this arc. I'll be kinda sad if she's the first leader voted out, but she NEEDS to stop leading. So I hope it's a good death.
And God please I hope they keep the stupidity pills away from her. She has been at her worst in ASC.
IN A NUTSHELL; On paper, this seems like a middling idea for an arc at best. My expectations are low, but I'm hoping they surprise me.
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veliseraptor · 5 months
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April Reading Recap
Stars of Chaos vol. 2 by Priest. I'm not quite grabbed by this one yet. I'm not not enjoying it, but the main relationship doesn't quite have me compelled, and the politics aren't quite sharp enough to get me either. I'm not totally sure I'll keep buying the published volumes, at least not at this time, and just read the rest online to see how I end up feeling about it as a whole before making the financial commitment.
Medea by Eilish Quin. Listen, I'm a Medea apologist, but I'm a Medea apologist who is very much of the "she absolutely did all the awful things she's accused of and she is valid" and the author here is going "she did all the awful things she's accused of but it's not as bad as you thought it was because she didn't mean it!" and I'm just. I'm not mad, just disappointed (again). I was so hoping for a book that would do something interesting with a Medea retelling but I probably should've known better than to think it'd be this one. Why, you may ask, do I keep reading myth retellings about my problematic faves when all I do is complain about them? Hope springs eternal, I guess.
She Who Became the Sun and He Who Drowned the World by Shelley Parker-Chan. Exceptional. Might be my favorite books I read in April. I'd already read She Who Became the Sun back when it was first published and knew I'd enjoyed it (was rereading to refresh my memory for the sequel), but I felt like I enjoyed it more the second time around, and I might've liked He Who Drowned the World even more than its predecessor. If you're looking for works of just-barely fantasy with delightfully fucked up queer characters, come get 'em here. I won't say most of them are happy (they're not) or that things end well (they don't), but boy is it good reading.
The Death of Jane Lawrence by Caitlin Starling. Decent horror but not particularly outstanding, in my opinion. I liked The Luminous Dead more.
Untethered Sky by Fonda Lee. I continue to struggle with novellas. This was a perfectly good novella but it felt like it could've been a stronger short story, which I guess is better than the other way I usually come out of novellas, which is "this was a fine novella but it should've been a novel."
The Mountain in the Sea by Ray Nayler. I really liked this. It has more of a thriller-ish edge than I expected, but for all that I think it's a thoughtful book with some interesting things to say, and I feel like it's one I want more people to read so I can talk to them about it. It's set in a sort-of spooky, near-future dystopia, but a lot of it is about, like, the nature of thought and consciousness. Anyway, I found myself compelled.
Islands of Abandonment: Nation Rebounding in the Post-Human Landscape by Cal Flyn. I found myself reading this thinking a lot about The World Without Us, a book I read many years ago and would kind of like to reread, and which I think I liked more than this (at least in my memory). I was hoping for more analysis than I got from this book, which was beautifully written but more nature/travel writing than science. One thing I did appreciate was the attention paid to the human cost of the "abandoned" places examined in this book - the pain that abandonment often signifies, and the trauma it indicates, in spite of the beauty that may come after.
Emperor of Rome: Ruling the Ancient Roman World by Mary Beard. I really liked the way that Beard chose to do this one - namely, taking it by theme rather than by emperor, and breaking down different areas of the emperor's life over time rather than trying to tell a linear narrative. It also let her do some of the better "skeptical" reading of sources that I've read in a popular book on ancient history, where she was actually digging into the "rather than what this says about what this person may or may not have actually done, what does it say about expectations, beliefs, and tropes that people had" kind of reading. And after some of the other popular histories of Rome I've read, thank god for that.
Metamorphoses by Ovid, trans. Stephanie McCarter. Continuing on with my "reading new translations (by women!) of classical epics" run (started with The Odyssey, The Iliad is on my list). It was fun to reread Ovid! As usual one of my favorite parts of this was reading the translator's note and introduction, and I wanted about 500% more of that through the text (tell me about the assonance you're preserving in the Latin!) but did get some of (thanks for the information on the penis/pubic hair puns!). Overall would recommend as a good translation of Ovid that very much does not flinch away from - and makes/keeps appropriately uncomfortable - the sexual assault.
Dark Rise by C.S. Pacat. Slightly more YA than I usually like, but I enjoyed it! I was a little :\ about it for a while, very much feeling the YA cliches of it all, but the late hour twist got me interested again, and I will be picking up the sequel. Did miss the full balls-to-the-wall iddy joy of Captive Prince, though, since I probably wouldn't have picked this book up without the author recognition.
Subversive Sequels in the Bible: How Biblical Stories Mine and Undermine Each Other by Judy Klitsner. I really liked this one, particularly for its commentary comparing and contrasting Eve, and the other women of Genesis, with later Biblical narratives. I don't know how much I buy all of her arguments when it comes to intentionality of all of the comparisons she's drawing, but it certainly makes interesting food for thought, and a good sampler for me of what literary-based Biblical scholarship can look like (and an indication that I'm interested in trying more of it).
Use of Weapons by Iain M. Banks. I read most of my way through this book continuing to really appreciate what Banks does with the Culture novels and planning to continue on reading the next one, but not enjoying this specific one as much as I did The Player of Games in particular, and then I got to the very end of it and went "hang on what the fuck???" but in a decidedly good way. And I'm still kind of thinking about That even though it's been a while, which I think is a positive. Anyway, I don't think I'd recommend this as a starting place for anyone to read the Culture novels, or as a must read, but it was on the upper end of a three star rating.
Juniper & Thorn by Ava Reid. I wanted this to be more gothic horror and less romance and it ended up being more romance and less gothic horror, was my feeling. Not necessarily the book's fault, but if anyone else is eyeing it wondering...now you know.
A Deadly Education by Naomi Novik. I really enjoyed this one! I was kind of skeptical going in - I'm not a big magic school person, as a rule, and the more I feel like something is hyped to me the more I tend to drag my heels about it - but Naomi Novik is really good at what she does and she clearly had a lot of fun here. It's tropey for sure, but I enjoy the narrative voice (very important, in a first person narration), and the action moves along with what I felt was pretty good momentum. The other thing I was worried about - that it'd feel too much like this was just ~commentary on/against Harry Potter~ without saying anything for itself - didn't materialize for me. I'm looking forward to reading the next ones.
The Monster Theory Reader ed. by Jeffrey Andrew Weinstock. I'm so rusty on my academic/theory reading and I felt it reading this collection, some of which was definitely better than others. Kristeva's essay on abjection was particularly rough as far as "I'm reading words and I know all the words but something about the order they're going in is just not making sense to me." Overall...it was a decent primer? There were a few very interesting essays in there; my favorite might've been the one on tanuki in modernizing Japan's folklore, but there were a couple on "monstrous" bodies that made me wish I had someone to discuss them with. That's probably my main problem reading academic works these days: I want a seminar to dissect them afterwards and I just don't have that.
The Sabbath: Its Meaning for Modern Man by Abraham Joshua Heschel. I'm trying to read something Jewish on Shabbat now and finally getting around to reading some Heschel after years of meaning to. I thought "oh, I'll start easy with something nice and short" - yeah, no, Heschel's got a very particular style of writing and there's a lot of theological depth packed into a very short volume. I'm looking forward to reading The Prophets, though.
The Husky and His White Cat Shizun vol. 5 by Rou Bao Bu Chi Rou. I think we're juuuuust about caught up now with the official translation to where I started reading the machine translation, so I'm very excited for (a) things I don't remember as well (b) reading it not in machine translation. Also looking forward to everything about what happened with Nangong Liu and Nangong Xu making more sense this time around, on account of not reading it machine translated, because I didn't follow it so well on my first read and I feel like I'm already doing better. (Though that could also be because it's a reread, no matter how different an experience of one.) Still feel real bad for Ye Wangxi, on so many levels. Mark that one down for 'characters I'd love to know more about what they're thinking.'
The Water Outlaws by S.L. Huang. I really enjoyed S.L. Huang's other work with the Cas Russell series, and I liked this book a little less than those. It felt like an almost winner, for me. Certainly I read through it quickly enough, and I can say I enjoyed it, but I'm not sure I'd give it an enthusiastic recommendation. It falls somewhere in the middle between "a fun action/adventure story" and "something I can sink my teeth into" in a way that didn't quite satisfy either itch. Still, it did make me curious about the source material, which is one of the Chinese classics (Water Margin) and I might go and find a place to read that, if I can; if I'd had that background going in I wonder if my experience of this work would've been more edifying.
--
I'm currently rereading A Memory Called Empire so I can (finally) read the sequel (A Desolation Called Peace); I also checked out from the library the next two Scholomance books so I'll be reading those. I'm going to try to throw some nonfiction somewhere in there (maybe The Genius of Birds by Jennifer Ackerman, which I also have out from the library, but maybe something else), but I've still got the sequel to The First Sister sitting on my shelf (also from the library).
Outside of that I've got no big reading plans - I'm working my way through some of the unreads on my own shelf (despite what it may look like, about the library books) and eyeing The Doors of Eden by Adrian Tchaikovsky or a reread of Foundryside by Robert Jackson Bennett so I can continue that series.
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Gay wrongs tournament, round one of the major bracket
Propaganda:
For Nandor and Guillermo:
I feel like accessory to murder and cause of the murder counts, right? 
Classic vampire/human who wants to be a vampire except there's an understanding in the show of how messed up that is, down to Guillermo helping chop up the bodies of Nandor's victims to hide them for him. Then there's the added wrinkle of Guillermo finding out he's a vampire hunter by blood and actually very good at killing vampires. There is more than one incredibly erotically charged scene with Guillermo holding a stake to Nandor's chest. Their dynamic is fantastically complex, from Guillermo starting as Nandor's somewhat disgruntled servant to him besting the vampire in combat and becoming his bodyguard, to Guillermo getting tired of waiting and getting another vampire to turn him leading to a long jealousy arc culminating in Nandor nearly killing him... there's just so much going on with these two. Nandor flew to space just to impress Guillermo. They do a number of heinous things to humans and vampires alike, but through it all they are so in love and so rich with pining. One of these days they'll kiss, I'm sure of it. It's just a monumental slow burn with many vampiric atrocities along the way.
They aren't romantically canon yet, but dear lord. Both are canon queer, Guillermo is specifically gay while nandor is mentioned to be pansexual in interviews. Yeah they are everything and nothing. They fought and can kill eachother but they literally can't do it emotionally. Also forbidden love trope, vampire x vampire slayer /familiar/ body gaurd / best man. They make me unwell.
For John and Jack:
So, they both are literal murders. One of them is a little bit more insane than the other. Okay, the little bit part is not right, totally insane that is John, yes. But gonna love him though. He had been in rehab for alcohol, drugs, sex and murder. Don't kiss him, he might be wearing poisoning lipstick. They are canon mlm. They had been stuck in a two week time loop for five years, which was like leading a married life for them. They didn't actually marry, but they were partners, both in business and sexually. They worked together for an time agency. Then Jack's memories of two years were erased and he left. He went into  independent self deployment, doing scams using his knowledge of future events. After that he build an alien hunting institute in Cardiff, Wales. When John and Jack see eachother again after years, you don't know whether they will they kiss or fight. They do both. Did I tell you that along this story Jack became an inmortal who can't stay dead? No matter how or how often he dies or is killed, he keeps coming back to life. This is all very scraping on the surface, but oh boy, would it be at least a novella to describe them.
They worked together in the Time Agency where they did horrible things to the extent where Jack had two years of his memory stolen so that he couldn’t know what he’d done. They were also in a time loop together for five years where they canonically thought of each other as the wife (John was a good wife :3), and were basically married. Then they had a divorce arc and they both separately went rogue from the Agency to become conmen, although they still worked together/clashed on occasions, always still with that spark of passion. “Frenemies with benefits” Jack called them once, although John preferred “my lover, my rival, my nemesis and destiny. And bane of my bloody life.” Canon finds us where Jack has tried to reform and be a better person, but John is still chasing cons, and all he wants to do is bring Jack back to the stars with him, back to the crime and the glitter of the galaxies (it doesn’t work and he shoves Jack off a building but Jack got himself immortal so he’s fine <3) anyway I am very normal about them xoxo
In John's introduction to the series he shows up on a roof where some guy is mugging someone, grabs him by the throat and dangles him over the edge of the building while this guy begs for his life before dropping him just because he felt like it. When John and Jack interact for the first time in the show there's a super cool guitar riff, very evil western vibes, they walk up to each other, look deeply into each other's eyes, make out, then start throwing punches to Blur's Song 2. In one of the audio dramas we're told about various times where these two conned people, stole a bunch of money and gold and gems and stuff, then had sex with whoever it is they conned before (sometimes) killing them. When Jack devided he was done and left John to die John escaped and married the queen of England (Victoria) then locked Jack up somewhere to take his life force and live forever, destroying the timeline in the process. John has tried to kill all of Jack's friends at least twice to have him all to himself. He found Jack's long lost brother and when the brother turned out to be a terrible person with a vendetta against Jack John did everything he could to save Jack. Their relationship is canon but very one-sided most of the time
just this video
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britcision · 1 year
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Hey guys
I have present for you
Not sure if there will be a WIP Wednesday this week since I’m con crunching and we leave on Thursday, soooo… this will tide you over I’m sure! The completed chapter 15!
Previous Chapter:
First chapter and AO3 link:
————-
I’ll Take The Highway
Time was almost slipping away too quickly in the milkshake bar, and Danny wished he didn’t have to keep an eye on it.
(Well. Seriously hoped. Even in the privacy of his head, he couldn’t make it a wish.)
He had to get Tucker back to MIT though, and back to Gotham in a reasonable time frame to get to bed before class tomorrow.
If he got to bed before midnight, there might be a chance for he and Jason to run to the Far Frozen in the morning. Or after, Danny’s classes didn’t run late. Or…
He was missing out on the fun today, trying to plan tomorrow. Much as Jazz would love him being more organised, he pushed it to the back of his mind.
They’d visit Frostbite soon. And find out how Jason’s core was, though Danny was beginning to think he knew. Here, when Jason was happy and relaxed? Not tensed, shut down, or angry?
Danny could definitely feel something he hadn’t before. Not exactly the same as another ghost, or any of the other halfas, not yet.
But it was almost like Box Lunch’s fresh core seen through a house of mirrors.
Maybe that was what had him so close to the edge today? It was taking some pretty serious effort not to react to even the mention of an old threat to Jason.
Jason, the sweet baby ghost.
And if his smile was a little sappy at that thought, well, that was no one’s business but his own. At least he had something to sit on for when his rogues started embarrassing baby stories.
Finally he couldn’t put it off anymore. Too much to do, friends to fly across country, and he still hadn’t found a good way to ask Waylon his question. He just… well.
He’d given Jason all the server info, the stuff about who his rogues were, how he beat them, the things they’d learned about the Infinite Realms. They’d even shared some stories around different bits.
That didn’t exactly explain what he wanted to ask Waylon about. And it really wasn’t something he was comfortable sharing just yet, even if he already knew it was dumb.
Jason was a good guy. Who hung out with Batman, who was apparently an asshole. He wouldn’t judge Danny for having some dark and fucked up stories in all the zany ones.
Fuck, maybe Waylon could tell him how Jason would react. It was gonna come up, it’d have to, and Danny really would feel better having someone else’s opinion.
He was reluctant to interrupt their good time, another story devolving into laughter, but it was getting into the afternoon and… well, he also had no idea how long this would take.
“Hey, uh, by the way. I’ve gotta head out in a bit, dropping Tuck back off in Massachusetts, I just wanted to talk to Waylon for a minute first? In private?” Because if Danny had learned one thing?
Direct worked best.
It worked now, Harley nodding along and hopping up, cartwheeling her way along the table and out of the booth.
“Say no more, Danno! C’mon, Jayjay, I wanted ta catch up with you on somethin’ too, so this works perfectly!” She declared cheerfully, giving Jason a fond tug to his fluffy white streak of hair.
Jason shot Danny a look that was half commiserating, half curious as he slid out of the both after her, but Danny was too busy staring into an imagined hellscape where Harley met Jack Fenton.
Fuck Dan, the world couldn’t handle that.
By the time he came back to himself, he and Waylon were alone in the booth, the big man watching him curiously.
“So, what’s on yer mind, kid?” He asked in a low voice, folding his arms on the edge of the table and leaning in.
Secret villain hideaway or not, this wasn’t something Danny wanted just anyone overhearing, so he beckoned Waylon closer to his end of the booth first, tucked into the wall.
The big guy slid his way surprisingly delicately down the seat, then leaned in again, watching Danny expectantly.
Which was when Danny realised he shoulda probably thought about a good way to put this.
Blunt it was gonna have to be.
“So… you… Harley said people called you Killer Croc before you ever hurt anyone?” He said in a rush, flinching at how bad it actually sounded said aloud.
Waylon… did not have eyebrows to raise, and it was really fucking weird that he was noticing that now, but it was definitely what he’d been doing, and Danny was distracting himself again.
“They did,” Waylon agreed a moment later, his voice low and even. Guard up, but not defensive. Not closing the topic off.
Danny huffed out a sigh, and found he couldn’t quite meet the man’s eyes. Found himself intently examining the diamond pattern on the formica tables. His own hands, twisting in front of him over that pattern.
“You… you became what they said you were. A monster.” The words caught in his throat, hard to spit out and shit he thought he was past this.
It had been years.
A scaled green hand covered his, and Danny found himself surprised by how smooth the scales were. Far from soft, but not rough. Almost smoother than the table.
“Who called you a monster, kid?” Waylon asked softly, his voice gruff with something too close to understanding.
Danny’s head snapped up and he shook it quickly, sucking in a deep breath.
“Oh, no one. Not for like, a really long time now. And they said sorry and everything, it’s not that. It’s… you gave into it. Let them make you something wrong and dangerous, and you stopped. How did you stop?” He asked quietly, finally finding it easier to look at Waylon’s face.
He looked surprised.
**
Finding Jason had been harder than usual. He’d never turned his phone back on after last night, and Bruce was still wrestling with one of his least favourite (and most common) side effect of a concussion; light sensitive headaches.
Even with the screen brightness all the way down, it was hard to even look at the batcomputer while he waited for Constantine to arrive.
None of his usual tricks were helping, spikes of pain jabbing behind his eyes every time he tried to scan the cameras for Jason’s presence.
It was Babs who found him in the end, taking her lunch at the library late to help him out. She had whole programs to scan the security cameras of Gotham for her, trained to recognise any bat or rogue from any angle.
False positives happened, but usually didn’t take more than a look to confirm or deny. They were extremely accurate.
Bruce would know.
He had copies of the same programs.
They just weren’t running properly.
He was probably still tired. He’d been pushing himself while injured, as usual, and as usual Alfred would be eager to tell him he’d been overtaxing himself too hard to work efficiently.
And then Constantine was late.
By the time the magician arrived, Bruce was regretting having taken a break to sleep at all. He should have sorted this out last night, before ever calling Jason.
They could have picked a time to meet, and while Bruce was fully aware Jason might have just told him to fuck off, he might not have. Especially if Bruce had promised to leave him alone.
He knew better than to ask Jason to introduce Danny to Constantine.
Barbara had generously kept an eye on Jason in the interim, and by the time Batman and Constantine were ready to go he seemed to have settled in Freeze’s place.
The Frozen Fields. Named for his wife, who Bruce’s top scientists still wouldn’t be able to save.
Along with Harley, Waylon Jones, and Danny.
Of course he was with Danny.
Half the city seemed to be intent on frustrating him today. They’d taken the Batmobile, and while he tended to only drive it in emergencies (and after dark), it still barely sped the journey through the city traffic.
It always felt wrong, sitting and waiting with the rest of the cars in the Batmobile. Didn’t match the “lurking justice in the shadows”. Which Constantine was quick to remind him.
Bruce just gripped the steering wheel tighter, sucked in a deep breath, and nearly bit his tongue when they finally edged up to an intersection only for the light to turn red.
**
Waylon sat back in his seat, back scraping against the wall of the booth as he surveyed the kid in front of him.
Little squirt was tougher ‘n he looked, that much was definitely true. Harley had given him the short run down on their way to the milkshake bar, all the powers she knew he had.
And that he’d been hunted by his folks for a while. Waylon knew how that kinda shit could mess ya up.
He appreciated the heads up too, cuz this kinda shit coming up outta nowhere? Also pretty damn rough. He’d wondered if the kid just wanted to come along for another fight.
If he just wanted another chance to say he’d looked Killer Croc in the eye.
But there was no real bravado there, not even when he challenged Waylon to a rematch. Shit, the kid treated him more normal than most of his henchmen had ever managed to.
Made sense, knowing he was part a ghost an’ fought ghost rogues, but it left Waylon wondering. Apparently he was getting his answer.
Same damn question he’d asked himself a thousand times, ‘specially around the kind of young vigilantes who’d taken a turn to the bad.
Didn’t mean he had a good answer.
He regarded the kid for a long minute, watching the fidgeting, the sudden shyness from a boy who’d literally tackled him from behind on a whim.
This wasn’t just an idle question. Something made him sure of that, and he’d never been involved in all that much of the really weird shit. You heard stories, especially in Arkham.
So he decided to give the kid the best answer he had.
“Cuz I was the worst version of myself. I let myself be the monster they thought I was, got pretty good at it. But it never made me happy.” He paused, mulling it over.
Chuckled softly and looked down into his half drunk milkshake. It was kinda funny how obvious it seemed, in hindsight.
“Shit, there was never even anythin’ I wanted. Not like Penguin, Freeze, or the others. People treated me like a monster so I tried to be one, cuz why the hell not? Couldn’t be worse, could it?”
His gaze shifted back to Danny’s face, watching the kid’s expression. No judgement, which was nice. But he did look confused.
“So you just… got sick of it?” Danny asked, his brows furrowed as he played with his fingers.
Waylon chuckled and shook his head.
“Kinda. Spent a while thinkin’ if people couldn’t treat me with respect, fear’d do. But it ain’t the same. An’ I never had the drive or creative cruelty to stand out in Gotham.”
Danny looked a little incredulous at that, eyebrows rising, but he caught himself before commenting. Snickered and shook his head.
“Yeah, I guess being in a city that’s used to people like Scarecrow and the Joker puts “big and green” into perspective,” he agreed dryly, and Waylon laughed.
It felt good to laugh.
“Oh yeah. City’s got more than its share of low level thugs anyway. I spent a while as extra muscle for the big boys, but I ain’t the takin’ orders sort,” he explained with a modest shrug.
Danny grinned, folding his arms on the table and leaning forward.
“What, a shy and retiring guy like you?” He asked, clearly teasing, and Waylon waved a hand dismissively.
“I’m lucky it was Gotham,” he added after a moment, reflection sobering his mood. “Got sent t’ Arkham. Met Harley. An’ the Bat’s not all that bad. He tried gettin’ me outta the life a couple times.”
Danny cocked his head, a slight frown returning to his face. Following Waylon’s lead.
“How did Batman try and get you out?” There was a little too much intensity for it to be a casual question, and Waylon noted it. Not that he’d figure it out on his own.
Just tryin’ to make sure he didn’t damage the kid.
“Oh, there were a couple ways. Got me moved down to Florida once. Out in the green, away from people. I figured bein’ a wild animal might be more my speed, but it wasn’t. An’ it got messy when I left. Like that whatever he tried, really. There’s lines you can’t uncross.”
Lines like being a cannibal.
Not that he was sobbin’ on a preacher’s shoulder about it. Most of the people he’d eaten were assholes who’d deserved it, and it’d been a preference, not a need.
For all people loved to go on about him eatin’ kids and babies, he’d never actually done it. A guy had to have standards.
Made it easy to stop, once he was in a better head space. He and Harley had talked a lotta old shit out.
Kid didn’t need to know those grisly details though, at least not from his own mouth. Watching Danny a moment longer, Waylon came to a decision.
“Look, kid. There’s a lotta reasons people go bad. Some of ‘em can’t be helped. But if they’re not gettin’ anything out of it, if there’s no goal? The appeal runs out. And sometimes all it takes is someone willin’ to reach down an’ haul yer back up to the light.”
He wouldn’t ask if that was the case with whoever the kid wanted to help. Everyone heard stories, ‘specially about heroes meeting their evil selves.
The fear looked personal, but the asking coulda been for anyone. Waylon was in no rush to judge.
Danny mulled over his words for a while, lips moving soundlessly as he frowned down at the table. This time when he looked up, there was a peace in his eyes.
He’d come to a decision. Good for him.
“Thanks, Waylon. You seem like a pretty great guy to me,” he said simply, and Waylon definitely did not feel a lump in his throat.
“This is after years o’ Harley workin’ on me,” he grumbled gruffly. Shaking his head, he slurped down the last of his milkshake quickly.
Nothing like brain freeze to explain being a little misty eyed.
**
Jason didn’t exactly object to being led out of the bar by Harley; Danny wanted to talk to Waylon in private.
Jason had figured Danny had something to ask the guy about. He hadn’t exactly expected not to be part of the conversation, but that was fine.
He’d know if Danny got into trouble. Fuck, Danny could handle any trouble Gotham could dish out, probably. And the rogues had some basic manners; not starting shit in Freeze’s place was one of them.
Penguin might put the squeeze on and make your life uncomfortable if you lit up the Iceberg Lounge. Dr Freeze’s cold shoulder was a lot more literal, and he didn’t do “proportional response”.
So yeah, he could be cool and give Danny some space.
It wasn’t exactly a surprise that Harley wanted to talk to him either, although he still didn’t see the point. But he let her guide him around the side of the building to a back alley anyway.
“Still fine, Harley,” he said before she could get started, both hands raised in front of him.
She gave him an all too knowing look and hopped up to sit on the dumpster. Put her about a head taller than him. Not that he cared.
“Sure, kid. You’ve been goin’ through a lot though, so I gotta ask; is there anythin’ ya wanna talk to Auntie Harley about?” She asked in her sweetest voice, interlacing her fingers under her chin and batting her lashes.
Jason snickered and leaned against the other side of the alley.
Shit, he wasn’t even annoyed with her play acting. The pit was a happy little puddle in his chest, all sunshine and roses.
A week ago he’d have walked away. Been pissed at wasting his time, getting in his way. How much of that had been because of the Lazarus pits, the problems with the ectoplasm he’d apparently been supposed to be solving?
Was that why nothing had ever been enough? Why he always had to keep pushing? Carve himself a patch of Gotham, keep going. Cut the crime out of Crime Alley, not enough.
Take up with the Outsiders, keep himself busy, rushed off his feet so that when he fell into bed for a couple hours a day he didn’t even dream?
When was the last time he’d taken a breath and just… relaxed? It all felt so long ago, but it had barely been a week.
It just. His whole life had unclenched, like it was a muscle he’d finally stopped using.
Fuck, maybe he should talk to Harley about it.
He got the feeling she knew though, those eagle eyes tracking his every move. They’d never really hung out, but he was uncomfortably aware of how well she’d known him.
How much of him was still the boy she’d known?
She was waiting for an answer, and all of a sudden Jason wasn’t sure what he’d say. Knew that if anyone in the world understood, it just might be Dr Harleen Quinzel.
He sighed and rubbed at the back of his neck, unable to meet her eyes. Fuck, he was getting as bad as Bruce.
And if that thought didn’t kick him up the ass…
“You ever wake up one day and realise your whole life’s been going wrong?” He finally asked, glancing up from the corner of his eye.
She’d dropped the cutesy act, leaning forward with her arms braced on the edge of the dumpster, her face professionally calm. Open. Sympathetic.
“Think I might know just a lil about what that’s like,” she agreed softly, and Jason snorted.
“Yeah. Well. Turns out ever since I came back from the dead I’ve been haunted. Literally. And no one ever noticed.”
He hadn’t even come all the way back, but he couldn’t say that. Not yet. But maybe he could share some of the rest.
Harley nodded slowly, giving him her full attention. Just waiting for him to go on.
It kinda felt like being under a microscope, but not in the cold, analytical way Bruce did that always pissed him off. Like she really cared, and was looking for all his broken parts so she could help him fit them back together.
Fuck, if his kid self had ever known he’d one day trust Harley Quinn over the whole Justice League…
Shit, he didn’t even know how much she already knew.
“The pit rage… it’s a psychosis people get, coming out of the Lazarus pit. Makes you angry, violent, stronger, like a blind rage. For most people it goes away. Mine didn’t.”
He almost wanted to laugh, bitter and sharp.
“Because it wasn’t just the psychosis. I’m not fucking weak, I’m not fucking broken, there’s something else living inside me and it made me so fucking angry all the time…”
The frustration was building again, but this time it was his. All his, not a bubble, not a stir, and part of Jason thrilled with it. He could feel however he wanted, just him.
He cut it off though, forcing himself to relax before Danny could notice. Could worry about whatever he was projecting in his aura.
He could kinda still feel Danny’s, which was new. Not brushing against his, not touching like they were close, but he was aware in a way he hadn’t been before.
Like if he shut his eyes he could point in exactly the direction Danny was standing.
“Danny’s the only one who noticed. Well, really, he’s the only one who could. It’s a ghost thing, and he… he got me help. I feel like myself for the first time since… since I came back.”
He hadn’t even noticed how much the background rage burnt through him until it stopped. Until he could look at his family and see their prodding for what it was; concern.
It was still surprising him, and maybe would for a while. Kinda hoped not though. It wasn’t the most cheerful train of thought.
Seeing that he’d run out of words, Harley gave him a moment to find more, then reached over and ruffled his hair. It was barely a strain in the cramped alley.
“Kid, anyone with two eyeballs t’ rub together can see Danny’s real good for ya. So why’s Bruce tryin’ so hard to keep ya apart?” She asked gently, and Jason snorted.
Rolled his eyes and folded his arms, caught himself doing it, and forced them back to his sides.
“Not rubbing his eyeballs together?” He asked dryly. Harley just snickered.
“Please, if we could get ‘im ta stop overanalysing everything that’d be the miracle. So what’s got ‘im on edge?”
Jason hesitated for a long moment, thinking about it. Finally he shrugged; as always, Bruce was a mystery to him. The man who’d taught him all the tricks to pick apart any mystery. Except himself.
“No idea. We played a prank on him and the Mansons at the gala like we told you last night?” He offered, already aware it wasn’t likely to be the answer.
Harley shook her head in agreement, which almost threw him off.
“Nah, you’re right. The whole making-out-in-a-closet shtick is classic, even if he didn’t see through it yet he’s never cared about you boys smoochin’ before,” she agreed, then sighed and tugged him in to press a kiss to his forehead.
“Whatever his problem is though, it is his problem Jason, an’ what he pulled at the gala has nothin’ t’ do with you or Danny. I already told ‘im off about not talkin’ to ya and I’m gonna do it again when I catch him. Right now I just wanna hear you say you know it ain’t your fault,” she told him firmly, cheeks held between both hands.
Jason fought the urge to roll his eyes. And the rising lump in his throat.
“I know Bruce’s bullshit isn’t my fault, Harley,” he grumbled through smushed lips. Harley squeezed his cheeks a little tighter.
“Then say it anyway. It ain’t your fault Brucie has a bug in his ass, and ya ain’t done anything wrong to deserve it.” She was firm as the wall behind him, utterly unrelenting.
And she could go on for hours, if memory served. Long enough for Danny to come out and see. That was why Jason told himself he gave in.
Nothing at all to do with the way her words ached and bled a gentle warmth into the icy void in his gut where the anger still roiled.
“It’s not my fault B’s got the emotional capacity of a wet newspaper. I don’t deserve his helicopter bullshit any more than anyone else,” he told her obediently, doing his best not to be too sarcastic.
Harley placed a kiss on his nose and released him.
“That’s my good boy. Now, more about this haunted thing. You boys got a plan?” She asked sharply, head cocked as she watched his face.
Cheeks red, Jason leaned back against his wall and pretended it made him out of reach.
“We do,” he said curtly, looking down at the trash strewn ground. Trying to explain it now would take too long, Danny would be out soon.
Of course Harley noticed, nodding thoughtfully and leaning back, kicking her legs.
“Well, if ya ever want to tell me more, you’ve got my number. An’ I’ll get Brucie off ya back for a while, even if I’ve gotta call in the Boy Scout. Whatever you aren’t tellin’ ‘im, don’t let ‘im rush ya,” she told him firmly. Jason had to smile.
“Aren’t you the one always telling us to communicate?” He asked half rhetorically. Harley grinned and hopped off her dumpster, making her way to the front of the alley.
“It only works if ya wait til you’re ready. Pushin’ an’ rushin’ only makes it worse,” she explained airily, stepping out into the street.
Turning, and freezing like a hound on a scent. Eyes narrowed, she patted Jason on the chest as he stepped out after her, not turning her head.
“Jason darlin’, be a dear an’ run get Auntie Harley her bat. The bike’s parked ‘round the back,” she said ever so sweetly, and that tone combined with the narrow eyed glare meant Jason knew exactly who she was looking at before he turned.
He did it anyway, eyes widening as he caught sight of Batman, in full gear, coming down the street towards them. Accompanied by John Fucking Constantine.
Had he seriously come to chase him away from Danny in person? In fucking costume?
The anger surged, his and the pit’s, held back only by the small woman in front of him. The dainty hand on her chest, that’d turn into an iron bar if he pushed it.
Sure, she couldn’t actually hold him back, but she didn’t need to. Whatever Jason wanted to say or do to Bruce, Harley could do a whole lot worse.
Anger melding into a vicious satisfaction, he turned straight back down the alley with a spring in his step.
**
Bruce was a little relieved to arrive outside the bar and see Jason already there. Batman walking in wouldn’t have been out of the question, but he’d rather avoid the theatrics.
Danny not being in sight didn’t come into the decision one bit.
But then Harley said something to Jason and he turned away, leaving immediately. Bruce sped up, planning to follow Jason down the alley-
“Hold ya horses, Batsy,” Harley snapped, stepping directly into his path. He could have gone around her, certainly, but he stopped.
If there was even a chance he could get her on side, that would help immensely.
“I just need to talk to Jason,” he said in Batman’s low growl. Constantine had stopped too, well back of whatever was going to happen.
At least he wasn’t a complete fool.
Harley folded her arms, giving him her very least impressed look.
“An’ if the words you’re sayin’ ain’t “I’m so sorry please forgive me I’ll never do it again”, ya don’t actually need to. Ya need ta speak to me.”
Bruce almost frowned at her words. Why now? They’d spoken before, but she’d seemed satisfied. What had changed between now and their last conversation?
Batman’s face remained impassive as ever.
“Harley. It’s important.”
“He wants me to give the kid a magic checkup,” Constantine put in from behind him, still well back. He waved at Harley when she glanced his way.
Harley’s eyes narrowed for a moment and then Jason was jogging back down the alley, holding her bat.
What the hell had changed since their last conversation?
Pinning Constantine with a piercing glare, she held it for a minute before turning her attention back to Bruce. Snapping her fingers in front of his mask before he could even open his mouth.
“Uh uh! Johnny needs ta talk to him fer that, not you. YOU need to come talk ta me. Now.” She held out her other hand without looking, and Jason slipped the bat into it.
Had he really upset Jason that much at the gala? He’d thought he understood about the public apology, but this felt… well, worse than he’d expected.
More urgent. More vehement. She was more angry than she had been.
He’d gone wrong again, some time between now and then, and he had a Justice League meeting in an hour. Less, counting in the travel time back to the nearest zeta terminal.
Did he have time for this?
Jason was glaring at him, flat and unfriendly, but with a decided undercurrent of anticipation. Bruce’s presence would only make Constantine’s job harder.
Ignoring the part of him that thought the magician deserved to have it a lot harder, he nodded and refocused his attention on Harley.
“Fine. Here?” Better to get this over with. He could put aside all of his personal thoughts and feelings for the meeting, but at least he’d have answers.
Harley gave the surrounding street another sharp look, then shook her head, crooked her fingers, and led him into the alleyway.
“We’ll go ‘round the back. You’re bad for business,” she told him archly, and Bruce followed without a word.
He didn’t tell Jason to stay and speak to Constantine; he was self aware enough to know that would have the opposite effect. The magician would just have to sort himself out.
Part of him almost hoped she would actually use the bat this time. It served its purpose as a visual symbol, but everything made much more sense when people just wanted to beat him up.
Navigating their emotions and separate interior lives and expectations was… messy.
**
Constantine and Jason stared at each other for a long moment after Harley and the Bat disappeared down the alley.
Then Constantine sighed and nodded after them.
“If they’re goin’ round back, we can take this off the main street. If you don’t mind?” Not that the boy had much choice.
They’d caught him unmasked, which raised again the fuckin’ question of why Batt-o was so intent on being masked up for this one.
Maybe he just didn’t want to change. It looked like a lot of kohl on under that mask. Probably took a while to switch in and out.
Jason narrowed his eyes back for a moment, then shrugged. His whole posture still screamed annoyance and aggression, but moved back into the side alley anyway.
“Whatever. Not too far though. I need to hear if my friends leave.” There was something about the agreement that didn’t quite sit right for John.
Too easy. He didn’t have much (any) experience with the kid, never having willingly gotten near a revenant, but… well, this? This was weirdly passive.
When he’d seen the kid coming back with a weapon, that had made sense. He’d half expected Jason to take a swing personally; the dead-or-dead-aligned tended to have a different understanding of acceptable violence.
Handing it off to Harley was basically trading a gun for a nuke, but he didn’t seem at all upset that it hadn’t been used. Hadn’t gone for Batman’s throat, no matter how much Harley seemed to think he’d be justified.
What the hell did the Bat do now?
Something was off with Jason, something that made Constantine almost rethink his earlier guess.
Kid dies, shows back up a couple years later in a storm of blood and violence, demanding revenge? Yeah, that was classic revenant. Physical body, jacked beyond anything the kid shoulda grown into? Ditto.
Even the rage the Leaguers reported checked the boxes, but a revenant shouldn’t be this calm. Not in the face of any kind of threat.
Good news, really; he probably wouldn’t go for Constantine’s throat. John was more than happy with that, though he did regret getting the Bat all worked up.
Not that there was another version of the story Batman might take better, mind. Whatever the hell Jason Todd was, the kid wasn’t human anymore, and for ol’ Batsy the rest of the details didn’t much matter.
They got out of sight of the main thoroughfare, Jason leaning back against a wall with his arms folded and a smirk on his face that was just all challenge.
Constantine didn’t rise to it, brows furrowing as he raised a hand and murmured the beginnings of a spell.
Felt it instantly crash around him, smacked down by a power so titanic he’d have fallen if the side of a dumpster hadn’t caught him. A power so old, so wrought with death, so fucking familiar that it blacked out every sense.
No way in fucking hell any kind of fucking revenant, wraith, zombie, ghost, anything could leave that taste in his mouth. No, that? That was a personal signature.
And not something that could be done lightly either. A power like that… no, this power, Constantine knew exactly whose it was.
This kind of power, reacting this strongly? This instantly, even here on Earth? That was the full force of the Infinite Realms, which had to mean…
Eyes wide and shaken, John scrabbled at the lid for support, staring at Jason. Who actually looked more than a little surprised himself.
It took him a moment to find the words, longer to steady the shake in his voice.
“You… you… holy fucking hells, Jason, do you have any idea what you’ve done? You’ve bound your fuckin’ soul to-”
“The same guy you sold yours to?” Jason drawled, raising an eyebrow.
And alright, fair, that was a pretty good fuckin’ point, but Constantine was well aware he was a dire warning, not a good example.
Damn hard to argue that to a smugly reclining something-or-other that had bound himself so tightly to that same king that John couldn’t even do a gentle magical probe.
He’d been planning on being polite and everything. Noninvasive, Jason wouldn’t even feel it.
Shit, had he felt the spell shut down too? Constantine was about to ask, but Jason wasn’t done talking. Or smirking, looking distinctly amused that he’d shut the mouthy magician up.
“Did you know he owns your soul eleven times by now? That seems a little low to me, surely you’re down to hocking scraps,” Jason noted with a dry chuckle.
Constantine shrugged defensively, well aware that his battered soul was nothing to write home about. Still mostly trying to work out what the fuck was going on.
What use would the Ghost King have for a bat? A use important enough to fold Jason, who’d only be risen six years, into the high court?
Sure, the kid was good, he’d proved that in Gotham’s underworld, but to the Realms? He was barely an infant, and cuttin’ off heads would not impress there.
“No one buys just a piece of a soul. Every deal’s for the whole thing, which is why they keep me alive rather’n letting me kick it and tearin’ up the bits,” he explained distractedly, giving Jason another slow once over.
The good news was, nothing about the guy smelled like a revenant. There was power there, sure, a hint of a magical signature just on the borders of recognizable, but he couldn’t quite pin it down.
Jason hummed in acknowledgement, or maybe interest, but Constantine needed him to keep talking. Needed more clues to work out what the fuck this guy was.
“Pretty sure I haven’t had anyone make the same deal eleven times though,” he commented cautiously, trying to appear as casual as Jason while watching him closely, wishing he’d accepted some bat-training, “most people only make that mistake once.”
“Yeah, I asked about that,” Jason agreed with a dry chuckle, and the bottom fell out of Constantine’s stomach.
A position that let him backtalk the king of the Infinite Realms? Triple not good, not least because that lot were volatile and fuckin’ possessive, but not more so than goddamn Batman.
“Apparently people handed you over for some kind of tax season. You’re a low value trading card over there at this point.”
And that knocked every other thought out of Constantine’s head as he straightened, unreasonably affronted.
It’d be fucking nice to be low value. People might ignore him.
And since when did the Infinite Realms collect taxes?
“Low value? Princes of Hell are fightin’ over my damn soul, it’s the only thing keeping me kickin’,” he protested, and Jason snickered.
Gave John a smug, superior smile.
“And ten entities gave your soul up for tax breaks. Let’s face it, it’s not like you have rarity on your side,” he pointed out smugly.
“It’s still only one soul,” Constantine pouted idly, his mind suddenly spinning mile a minute with the implications.
The kid couldn’t have had this much presence last night, whatever else was true. John would have noticed.
It might just have been now that he knew to look for it, but Jason practically glowed with the essence of the Realms. He’d also somehow not just gotten himself bound to the Ghost King, he had a position where he could question them.
And have his questions answered, if not hugely coherently. Maybe that was just the translation through Jason, though.
That could be a good thing. A good sign at least, for the temperament of the new king. Pariah Dark never listened to questions by all accounts; people never got the opportunity to ask. He just conquered.
Of course, John knew enough magical entities to know that “willing to talk” did not mean, friendly, helpful, safe, or even “not prone to constant and complex lies”.
Thing was, he could handle liars. Tricksters. Anything of the sort, usually, cuz if nothing else? Being willing to talk before shooting meant Constantine had a chance to confuse them.
He was bloody good at that, all else notwithstanding. Almost his most useful talent.
It might be worth trying to find a little more about the Ghost King. Doubly if Jason was willing to help, but that’d have to be careful. No way to know what the kid had accidentally sworn to on that soul bond.
Hell, how was he gonna work out what the kid even was with magic off the table? It’d be back to the fuckin’ books and Undead 101.
At least he was still in his own body. That put a limit on the possibilities, but there were still a lot of options. Bats was going to be unbearable.
Because worse yet… the one thing John did know, with absolute certainty, was that the kid was getting stronger. If he hadn’t manifested any powers yet, it was just a matter of time.
Whatever Jason was, whatever deal he’d managed to pull, the damn halfa wasn’t even the tip of the iceberg. Something was feeding the power in him, whatever had yanked him back to the land of the living to start with.
Plus side? Batty could get off his ass about the kids hanging out. Jason had already taken a fuckin’ jet across whatever influence hanging out with a ghost could do, and pushed right the way to the other side.
He might as well be fuckin’ drinking ectoplasm at this point. Kid could carry Danny around on his back and not make a lick of difference.
Course, if it was the halfa who got the kid to make his deal… well, Batman would have another reason to worry about them hangin’ out together, but the damage was already done.
It wasn’t a soul buy, not to John’s experienced eye. Not a leash around the kid’s neck, not a claim stamped into his being. If anything, this was worse.
Somehow Jason had gotten himself so tightly wrapped to the Ghost King that the other’s power all but flowed in his veins. Even from here, far from the Realms, Constantine didn’t even finish the spell before it was smacked down.
That… that was new. Nothing he’d ever seen before, and he was well used to possessive metaphysical assholes who didn’t like anyone else touchin’ their shit.
Fuck, did Jason even know?
Constantine sucked in a breath and gave damn near instantly on even trying to form a tactful question a bat would understand. Kid was playing in his kiddy pool now, like it or not, and John had to know how deep he’d gone.
“So what deal did you make?” He asked bluntly. Not that Jason apparently minded in the least, still smirking as he gave the magician a cool once over.
“Y’know, I’m pretty sure it’s rude to ask. Not discussing paychecks and all that,” he drawled casually, eyes still dark with that barely covered aggression.
Constantine rolled his eyes.
“I had three princes of Hell gettin’ a little too cozy and a cursed rock lookin’ to turn the world to pink tourmaline. The Ghost King was big enough to shut ‘em up and let me push the rock to a different dimension where it’s never gonna be our problem again. Now quit bein’ an ass, I know a lot more about this kinda shit and I can tell ya if they hid any clauses.”
That did shut Jason up, the kid’s eyes widening for a moment like he hadn’t expected Constantine to share.
Tough titties for him, John already knew Batman was gonna be a bitch about this so doing the due diligence early? Pretty much their only hope.
He considered it longer than John thought was justified, since it was inarguable. John Constantine, soul selling expert. He should have business cards made.
Finally the kid shrugged. He still looked prickly, defensive, but he was listening.
“Well I didn’t sell him my fucking soul.” Which.
John stared at him, mouth agape. Snapped shut and narrowed his eyes.
“Kid, you could not be more marked if you wore a neon sign. You signed something over, the Ghost King ain’t the sort to give prizes for free.”
A Ghost King Jason seemed to think was a he, so that was a useful little piece of intel. He’d definitely know better than John if they were already on ask-questions stage.
Jason scowled and shrugged, arms still crossed.
“Lucky me. Protection from big scary human wizards, for the low low price of my service. And some help with my Lazarus problem,” he added, as if the last was the only part he though worth mentioning.
Constantine sagged back against the wall, sinking down to sit on the alley floor. Bracing his elbows on his knees he ran both hands through his hair, holding his head up.
“Great… just fucking great,” he muttered, voice muffled by his new position. Part of him wanted to laugh, but he was pretty sure it’d come out a sob.
Hysteria beckoned.
Jason made another noise that might almost have been concern, and Constantine forced himself to suck in a breath. To keep it together.
Forced his head up so he could glare at the kid who now looked just way too confused.
“You get that that’s worse, right?” He snapped, eyes narrowing. “You get that selling yourself into service is fucking worse?”
Jason glared back down at him, drawing himself up like size and muscle was gonna impress a magician.
(It might have if Jason was a decade or two older, but not the way the kid intended.)
“What the fuck d’you think will happen when he takes your soul?” He snapped back, aggression rising fast enough that Constantine forced himself to stop again.
Deep breath in. Hold. Out.
One more in. Hold. Out.
He got to ten, the kid watching him with visible confusion, deflating the longer John went without pushing back. Yippee for him.
When he thought he had his voice under control again, John forced himself to his feet.
“I sell my soul, and if anyone ever actually claims the damn thing they can do whatever they want to it for eternity. It’ll fuckin’ suck, kid, but the one thing they can’t do, no matter who it is?”
He just sounded tired now, which only wrong footed Jason even more. Why had he even gotten out of bed at all?
Maybe if he left now he could just go back. Tuck himself up in the House of Mystery, feed his League communicator to something pandimensional, and just hide for a while.
The Bat would probably come after him.
Taking another bolstering breath, John did his best to sound calm. Not patronising. Because the kid damn near definitely had no idea.
Which was why people should leave magic to the fuckin’ professionals.
Catching Jason’s eye, he held it, hoping to impress the seriousness of what he was about to say into the kid’s soul.
“They cannot compel me to action. They can try all sorts of force, all sorts of fucked up shit, but I get the last say. They say jump, I say fuck off, no jump. But selling service?”
Jason’s eyes had widened now, and John could just see all those little wheels turning. Well, set the little fuckers spinnin’ faster.
“They say jump, you’re on the way up before you can ask “how high?”. I dunno what you think you signed up for, kid, I dunno what deals with the new king are like cuz I didn’t fuckin’ ask. But you get a copy of the damn contract and bring it back to me. I’ll see if there’s anything we can do about it.”
It was the only logical option, especially with an entity this powerful. Constantine was betting the kid’s hatred of being used, being controlled, would make him agree even if he hated it.
He probably could have been nicer, though.
Jason’s eyes flashed, actually flashed a bright, ecto green as he shot John a glare that promised bloody dismemberment.
There was something else too, something that definitely wasn’t there a second ago but filled the alley now. Something hot and angry and powerfully vicious, something that wanted his blood.
If there were space to back up, he would have. As it was, he let his hand slip behind his back, ready to teleport. He had no doubt that any kind of binding would meet exactly the same fate his inquiry had.
Even in civvies, Jason Todd cut a menacing figure as he stalked the two steps across the alley to put himself directly in Constantine’s face.
“For fuck’s sake, I am not a fucking child! I don’t need you to hold my hand, I don’t need your fucking help, and I don’t need your fucking permission to live my fucking life!”
Constantine actually leaned back, his head brushing the wall behind him as Jason shoved a finger into his face, his every muscle taut with barely restrained violence.
“Like you just fucking said, you don’t know shit! So maybe, just fucking once, the whole fucking lot of you sit the fuck down, shut the fuck up, and stay out of my fucking way!”
This close, Constantine could feel Jason’s hot breath on his face. This close… something clicked.
He could feel Jason’s anger, projecting out of him in a way that definitely wasn’t human. Choking and visceral and absolutely nothing like the pulsating bloody rage that forced itself down his throat.
There was something fucking else inside Jason. Something that tasted of the Infinite Realms and wanted his head on a stick.
Something that wasn’t the Ghost King. Didn’t carry the touch of his claim.
John was about to teleport away, fuck Batman and all of Gotham, when Jason turned around sharply and marched out of the alley. Almost like the kid was running.
Slumping back against the wall, John Constantine closed his eyes and breathed in the city smogs, only happy that none of it actively wanted his blood.
**
Harley let Batman precede her around the milkshake bar to the parking lot at the back, a quick glance confirming that they were alone.
For the best, really; anyone present might get entirely the wrong idea.
Taking a casual roll of the wrist for added momentum, Harley took a quick shot at the back of Batty’s knee, stepping up quickly beside him to use the return swing to catch him in the gut.
Caught off guard, he crumpled, landing on one knee and glaring up at her.
“Harley…” he growled, and her eyes narrowed.
She’d done this the nice way last night. He hadn’t listened, so now they were doing it his way.
“Batsy,” she shot back, cutting him off quick and direct. Tapped her bedazzled bat gently off her other hand. “We had us a talk already this week.”
No specific times; not in an unsecured location. He’d know anyway.
From his silence, he wasn’t quite ready to admit it. But he didn’t try to rise. Conflicted, then.
Like that was new.
Harley pressed the bat gently under his chin, tipping his head up to face her.
“And yet somehow, despite you assurin’ me you’d listened real close, a mister Jason Todd is out here tellin’ me you tried to ban him from hangin’ out with his new boyfriend?” She asked sugar-sweet, her expression all danger.
She could just about see the moment it sank into his head. Even with his actual eyes covered, that cowl was still plenty expressive.
Kinda freakishly expressive. Not ideal for the crime fighting to her mind, but what would she know? She much preferred committing the crimes.
He tried to argue, frown so deep he’d have wrinkles within the day.
“This has nothing to do with that, the Fenton boy is dangerous to his condition-”
Harley cut him off by poking the end of her bat almost into his mouth, her eyes narrowed. And sure, she was bein’ delicate with his head outta concern for that concussion, but there were limits.
“An’ what d’you think ya know about Jason’s condition that a half dead kid don’t?” She asked sceptically.
Batman hesitated. If he pushed the bat away, they’d have an actual fight on their hands. One he might let her win, if he just needed the tussle.
She’d never known a man so eager to have someone put him on his ass, and so incapable of ever lettin’ it actually happen. Well, other than Jason.
Musta run in the family.
Bruce sagged back, sat on the cracked asphalt of the parking lot.
“Constantine believes that Danny’s energy may strengthen something inside Jason. Something dangerous,” he explained, still in Batman’s rough growl.
She was gonna get him a vocoder. Just for shits and giggles.
Fuck, was that why Jason wore the whole helmet for Hoody? Now that she thought of it, there was a voice changer in there.
Two cranky little peas in matching muscly pods.
She dropped to sit cross legged on the ground across from him, bat laying in front of her. Talkin’ again, take two. Time to make it stick.
“Have you actually talked to Jason about this?” She asked sceptically.
The eye slits in the cowl narrowed. Harley was not impressed.
“Have you talked to him at all, since he an’ Danny have been hangin’ out?”
Bruce glared at her for a moment longer. Did not fold his arms or pout, but she could tell he wanted to.
“I spoke with him last night. He’s irrational, angry, unwilling to listen to reason…”
“He’s sick of ya tellin’ him you know what’s best and not listenin’ ta what’s wrong,” Harley corrected flatly.
Watched his shoulders sink just a little. As much as he could deflate in the suit. Even his growl lost most of its sandpaper.
“He said Danny was taking him to a doctor. More exposure to the realms could make things worse. Kill him, or give the pit another chance to take over. I can’t…” he cut himself off, voice tight and garbled around the forced gravel.
Harley watched him for a long moment.
He’d come out in the suit. It had to be for a reason.
She couldn’t ask the questions that would break him apart in the suit. Couldn’t guide him through the revelations and the grief. Not if there was somethin’ else he had ta be doing.
Another damn time then. She’d get ‘im here again.
“Batsy.” Her voice was gentler this time, and drew his face back to hers. She made sure to catch his eye. “He already died. Seems ta me somethin’ in there never really let him go.”
She didn’t know much about the Infinite Realms… or anything at all, really. All this magic and mayhem and ghosts was fun an’ all, and she always liked to play, but it wasn’t her wheelhouse.
Didn’t have ta be. She knew how to listen to the professionals.
Bruce had stiffened, the mask of Batman pulling back, and she cut him off with a raised hand.
“An’ you only have ta look at Danny ta know that whatever all that is? Jason ain’t the first. Won’t be the last. Someone’s gonna know what went wrong, and Jason believes they’re helping him. You need to believe Jason.”
“But he could be wrong.” It was barely more than a whisper. Low and grinding and completely devoid of Batman growl, like it’d been pulled right out of his soul.
Harley gave him a gentle bop on the head with her bat.
“Then we deal with that then. But all ya doin’ by bossin’ him around an’ not listenin’ is pissing him off and makin’ him more likely ta run right off to these Realms. He’s not the sweet kid followin’ ya shadow anymore, Batsy. He’s a man, and he gets to make choices. And mistakes.”
This sure as hell wasn’t one of ‘em, but Bruce had never been good at taking that on faith. He had to be shown, and he’d never stop waiting for the tables to turn.
Which was how he usually made things worse. But he did at least know that.
He still looked mutinous, scowling across at her, so she gave him a slightly harder bop on the shoulder.
“Batman, listen ta me. I know you mean well, but Danny makes him happy. All Jason’s seein’ right now is that he’s happy, an’ you wanna take it away.”
That hit harder than any of her blows, though she wouldn’t have noticed if she hadn’t known him so long. His whole body stiffened, sudden hesitation in even his breathing.
Harley stared him down through it, then nodded in satisfaction as his shoulders lowered, just a fraction.
“I can’t lose him again, Harley,” he whispered, barely audible even less than a foot away.
She gave him an even harder bop on the other shoulder.
“Then stop driving him away. You ain’t even said sorry for the other night yet an’ now you owe him another apology. There’s always that things might go wrong; he might get hit by a car crossing the street. The only sure thing is that if you keep treating him like this?”
She leaned forwards, grabbing his chin and forcing him to face her. To look at her, and see how serious she was.
He was reluctant to meet her eyes, but even under the white outs Harley knew when she had someone’s attention. Good. He probably knew what came next.
“You will lose him, Batsy. And it’ll be no one’s fault but your own.”
**
Danny couldn’t have missed Constantine making his way up the street blindfolded and with his ears plugged. It might have been the whole “owned his soul” thing.
It also might have been the vortex of swirling magical attention that followed him like a cloud. The guy clearly wasn’t trying to advertise his presence, but to something like Danny…
Well, trying to hide that hard always caught his attention. A magical “nothing to see here” tasted like liquorice in the back of his throat.
Maybe the trench coat was actually cursed, in more than just the unfortunate fashion sense.
Part of him wondered if this had anything to do with them. The rest, well aware what his luck was like, wondered if he’d come barging into the restaurant.
It wasn’t like he shouldn’t be getting ready to go anyway, but he just… well, he was having a surprising amount of fun just hanging out with Waylon.
The guy was old enough to be his dad, but he was a great listener. Really encouraging, and he’d told Danny another couple of stories too, some from his darker times but all with happy endings.
He was probably trying to make Danny feel better after their talk, and it was definitely working. It just… well, he didn’t even really like thinking about Dan.
He’d asked Nocturn to put him to sleep not long after becoming king, to give the guy something to do other than stew in a thermos and plot vengeance.
Part of him still kinda expected that to bite him in the ass, but even if Dan broke out of Nocturn’s dreams, he couldn’t break out of Soup Time. For whatever reason he’d never learned Danny’s portal trick.
All the people who kept souping Danny were dead in Dan’s timeline.
Danny had almost been ready to wrap things up with Waylon (as little as he wanted to; they’d already exchanged numbers) when he felt Jason’s rage bubble.
He didn’t realise he’d blanked out until Waylon tapped the table in front of him with a claw, concern on his scaly face.
“Somethin’ th’ matter, kid?” He asked in a low growl.
Danny shook his head, staring down at the mostly empty milkshake and chugging the rest.
“Probably nothing… just got a bad feeling about Jason,” he explained with a shrug.
Reached out just a little, extending his senses but not aura. If Jason was already mad, that might send him over the edge.
Just as he reached out a sudden flare of fury made his hand clench, the glass he was still grasping shattering. Great, he had a hand full of milkshake and shards.
Shaking both free, Danny shoved his way out of the booth at the same time as Waylon, the big man going from concerned to battle ready in an instant.
For the first time, he almost looked dangerous. Danny was glad to have him at his back for the visual component at least; anyone who didn’t think twice about pissing off a tank like Jason wouldn’t even blink at Danny.
Killer Croc though? He got that name on his looks alone, long before he earned it.
They didn’t even make it across the bar, wait staff scattering to what were clearly well established positions in case trouble came in.
Trouble didn’t; barely.
Jason Todd did, all but vibrating with rage and steaming green with Pitty’s contribution.
Wait; steaming? Jason had mentioned the Lazarus pits did that, but Danny had never seen ectoplasm steam before. Could everyone see it?
Whether Waylon could or not, it didn’t stop him from hurrying forward, attention fully focused behind Jason for anyone following.
It was maybe the teeniest bit cute that even so angry he had a personal heat haze, Jason didn’t even think Waylon was going for him. His attention was fixed somewhere else; somewhere internal and probably bloody.
Instinct pulled Danny forward, Jason slipping easily into his aura and for a moment Danny felt like he’d drown in Jason’s rage. Answered it himself a moment later, stroking across the anger with worry-protect-safe now.
Jason twitched just a little as the aura washed around him, looking around on automatic until he faced Danny.
The rage softened just a little as he caught Danny’s eye, shoulders sagging. His jaw unclenched enough to talk; visibly enough that it must have been painful.
“Just fucking B again, treating me like a fucking child,” he spat, fists still clenched tight at his sides.
The effort it was clearly taking not to go out and start swinging kept Danny on edge, even as Waylon relaxed.
“Yer a long way from that, kid,” the big guy agreed with a low chuckle, still between Jason and the door, and rested a large hand lightly on Jason’s shoulder. “Want me to go have a word?”
Jason shook his head sharply, the smallest of smiles flicking across his face before the anger replaced it. Yeah, definitely cute.
“No thanks. You’ve only just got out, you don’t need bat trouble again already,” he said through gritted teeth, then nodded to Danny. “I just wanna get out of here.”
Danny nodded immediately, going from maybe-fight to flight. Which was kinda literally an option. Ghosts knew how to make an exit.
“Do you wanna take your bike or just disappear?” He asked simply.
Jason gave him a tight smile, barely layered over anger he was still struggling to control. Fuck, if this was what he’d been dealing with every day before Danny came along…
“Harley’s out back with Batman. I just want to fucking go,” he growled, shaking his head.
Danny nodded again, turning and crouching a little for Jason to hop onto his back.
“Phantom Express it is then.”
And yeah, he knew it looked stupid without Waylon’s confirming snort of laughter.
So did Jason, and the tinge of mirth that coloured his rage-burning-break in his head was more than worth looking silly.
Seemed like Jason was finally starting to trust his strength too as he hopped up without question, Danny not reacting in the slightest to his added weight.
And definitely not the way Jason now towered over him, or having those thighs wrapped around his waist. Nope. No horny in the aura today.
Giving a last nod to Waylon, he turned them both invisible and flew up through the roof, intangibility phasing them through at the last second.
Once they were high enough to be beyond any eavesdropping, he slowed to a stop, not quite looking back at his passenger.
“So, where do you wanna go?”
As Danny had kinda hoped, the sudden exhilaration of flight had tamped Jason’s anger back down until it was less a physical presence. It still seethed and boiled inside him, but it was losing steam.
About half of what he could feel from Jason now was just tired, and honestly? Couldn’t blame him.
Danny had been told how bad his pit rages had been, a visceral wrath that almost possessed Jason and made him lash out in all directions. And by all accounts? He still hadn’t seen the half of it.
It made his core ache just thinking about living with that much rage stuck inside. Feeling like that all the time… Danny had always respected Jason, but this? This demanded a whole new level.
And a little bit made him want to put Jason in a nice ectoplasm hamster ball so he could roll around the streets and nothing would ever hurt him again.
Gonna have to keep that under wraps too, since apparently Danny was losing his fucking mind all up in Gotham.
(Not that he’d never hamster balled anyone before. It was just usually a punishment for Tucker, or Wes if they were being assholes. Derogatory hamster balls were totally fine and not evidence of losing anything at all.)
The man himself was quiet for a long moment, struggling with just everything that was going on inside him.
Danny waited, turning them both intangible again just in case Jason could still be affected by the cold. At this height, it wasn’t exactly pleasant.
Made him side eye all those pictures of witches in dresses and long socks on broomsticks. Good way for the living to get pneumonia, in Danny’s opinion.
Jason didn’t even seem to notice, letting out a frustrated huff of air.
“We’ve gotta get Tucker home. If B is off being an asshole we can at least go to the manor,” he grumbled.
Danny paused for a long moment himself, considering another solution. After all, for ghosts it was simply unthinkable that they hadn’t even had an introductory brawl yet.
Whenever he got that pissed, getting the shit kicked out of him had always helped burn off the energy. But maybe Jason’s was different.
Danny was pretty sure he’d never been that pissed, not even at Pariah. Not even at Agent K.
Danny wouldn’t judge. For now, he nodded, turning to head towards the manor.
“We can go to Frostbite after we’ve dropped Tuck off. It’s been long enough, and you definitely feel stronger?” He offered, kinda hoping it might help Jason feel better.
The grunt he got in return didn’t sound convinced, but Jason also didn’t argue.
Neither of them were expecting to run into traffic in the Gotham airways though, at least not below airline level. Or to be interrupted.
With a sudden loud gust of wind, another black haired young man in a black leather jacket pulled up in front of them, looking around with a frown.
“Hey, I heard someone up here? Jason? Where are you?” He asked loudly, brows furrowing like he was still listening.
Danny’s confusion was better than words as Jason gave his shoulder a quick squeeze.
“Superboy the first. Tim’s boyfriend,” he explained quietly, and Kon’s head whipped around to follow the sound.
“Okay Jason, I know you’re up here, what the fuck?” He asked impatiently, which was when Danny remembered.
Still invisible. Hiding from the Bat and also concerned citizens. He popped them back into visibility with a sheepish grin, waving at… Connor? Or Con? No, kinda sharper. Kon.
It might have been a secret third level of alias, but Danny was pretty sure the bats had called him by a couple names over the various stories.
“Hey… sorry, forgot we were invisible,” he explained, trying not to laugh. Mostly at himself, but best not give the wrong impression.
Superboy’s eyes locked on them for a moment, narrowed briefly, and then his face broke into a grin.
“So, I’m gonna guess you’re Danny, Tucker’s friend that Tim has been gushing about?” He asked eagerly, reclining comfortably in the air. Then paused. “Well, gushing about Tucker. You were mentioned, though.”
That sounded about right.
Danny snickered and nodded, giving Jason a careful reshuffle. If they weren’t gonna be travelling for the moment, they could get a little more comfortable.
Thick thighs tightened around his hips and Danny very specifically did not melt into a puddle of goo. Not even a little bit.
“Yeah, we were just gonna go get Tucker and head out. Are you coming to see Tim?” He asked, kinda half wanting to wait around long enough and see what Tucker and Connor made of each other.
Kon if he was here in official capacity? But he wasn’t exactly wearing a super uniform, or logo. But Jason hadn’t mentioned a name, because Jason wasn’t a helper.
There was one easy way around that though. Bouncing Jason just a little more roughly than strictly necessary, Danny stuck out his hand.
“Danny Fenton, by the way. Since we haven’t been fully introduced.” He gave his best cheerful-but-totally-human grin. No point unnerving the first official alien he met, even if he was only half alien.
The boy reached out easily, giving him a firm handshake back.
“Kon El. Connor when we’re on street level. And yeah, I was just heading the same way when I heard you guys. Tim asked if I’d bring Tucker home though, he wasn’t sure what you guys’ plans were so if you had anything else to do?” He glanced from one to the other, so clearly not asking that he might as well have.
Could Kryptonians see the heat haze of Jason’s anger too? Or did he just know the family well enough, know Jason well enough, to know the signs?
Danny hesitated, glancing over his shoulder at the other halfa. He could almost taste Jason’s indecision, holding each other this close. Bitter and tight in the back of his throat.
How much did he want to deal with his family, with that rage still burning inside him? Hell, they hadn’t even worked out what Jason would do while Danny took Tucker home.
Danny kept quiet though, leaving the choice up to Jason.
It didn’t take long.
Sucking in a deep breath, Jason let out a heavy sigh, a wave of pure relief washing over him.
The anger was still there, a hot little coal right between the dual cores, but it couldn’t drown out the gratitude-sorry-safe. Barely tempered it anymore.
His voice was still gruff when he spoke, still stiff with emotion, but Kon seemed to understand.
“Yeah, that’d be great. Thanks Kon.”
The younger man tipped them both a sarcastic salute, straightening in the air and turning towards Wayne manor.
“You’ve probably got like, a text from Tim about the change of plan, if he even bothered to mention it, but I’ll let him know I saw you. Seems like you’re sticking around, so I’ll probably run into you again, Danny.” He gave them both a cheery nod and flew away.
A tiny part of Danny was sorry that they wouldn’t be around to watch Tucker spiral when confronted with Tim’s boyfriend.
Tim Drake Wayne was a hottie, no point denying it, and he was easily Tucker’s second biggest tech crush beside the mysterious Oracle. With all that hero worship though?
Tucker probably hadn’t actually noticed he was also hot yet. He’d have been in love with him if he’d looked like a snail.
Kon El though? Kon El had exactly the kind of leather jacket, too cool for school, sculpted good looks that Tucker fell head over heels for on any gender.
(Danny absolutely was not a hypocrite, he’d be the very first to admit that he and Tucker had very similar taste in partners, at least as far as appearances. Tucker just preferred a little more “step on me” energy.)
In all the reminders that Tim had a boyfriend, no one had said his boyfriend was hot.
Danny didn’t mention it. It wasn’t like he’d have been able to fully enjoy things anyway; the night before had proved that, and Jason’s mood had been rosy by comparison.
He did offer just one comment though, watching Kon fly away thoughtfully.
“Should we have warned him that Tucker is going to spontaneously combust if Kon tells him to ride him?” He asked mostly hypothetically, fading them out of visibility and tangibility again.
It startled Jason into letting out a snort of laughter which became a cough with his last rasp of thinner air.
“You just did, with Kon’s hearing,” he managed once he could talk normally again, and Danny considered feeling bad about it.
That sizzling coal of rage was almost buried under amused-anticipation-relief.
Nah. No matter what form Tucker’s next wave of vengeance took, this was worth it.
“So, where to next?” He asked, again… kinda hypothetically. From Jason’s sigh the older man was just as aware of what the answer had to be.
“Let’s just fucking go see Frostbite. If I keep looking at the city something’s gonna piss me off again.” He sounded reluctant, resigned, but a slow creeping glow of amazement spread through his aura.
About to pop open another portal, Danny tipped his head up as far as he could and made them visible again, looking for his face.
“What’s up?” He asked, willing to put dimensional travel on hold if there was anything they might be able to do to actually help.
Jason shook his head to focus himself, glancing down at Danny and quickly looking away. Was Danny imagining that sweet pink blush in his cheeks?
“It’s nothing.”
Danny waited, secure in the actual empathic sensation of Jason warring with himself on his back. Finally he won (and also lost, as all civil wars end) and sighed.
“Just. I’ve never come out of the pit rage this fast before,” he admitted gruffly, glaring down at the sparkling lights of the city below. Like this wasn’t something to celebrate.
Danny let them fade back to invisibility, since Jason pretty clearly didn’t want to be looked at.
“Hey, that’s great news! We’ll just have to short circuit Tucker’s gay ass every time you need a boost,” he chirped brightly, and popped the portal open to Jason’s laughter.
**
In his heart of hearts, Bruce knew why Harley was taking him to the parking lot.
If there was any chance of witnesses, any possibility of being overheard, he couldn’t listen to her. Not in the suit. Couldn’t show what any of his rogues (who hadn’t met Harley) might misconstrue as weakness.
If there was a single place in the city which could be trusted to be unsurveiled, it was the parking lots to his rogues’ side businesses. They had their own professional courtesies.
He appreciated it, in his own way. The closest thing to privacy they could have outside the Batmobile at the moment (and even then his children could listen in).
The baseball bat had been… well, not a total surprise, she’d had Jason fetch it in front of him and it wasn’t likely to be an empty prop twice in a row.
Still, he wasn’t as prepared as he could have been, and the first two blows hurt. His fold to the ground was mostly genuine, though part of him was definitely leaning in.
Concussion be damned, he’d been taking an emotional beating this week. At least exterior bruises would show him when they were healing.
But he hadn’t had time after her warning to do anything but head to the meeting.
Had he?
All he remembered was the seriousness of her face, the weight of absolute certainty in her words.
He would lose Jason, because he himself had pushed him away. Because Jason didn’t think Bruce trusted him. Thought Bruce would take away his chance at happiness.
Maybe Danny had been right. Maybe Jason didn’t even know Bruce loved him.
Things were so much worse than he’d made himself believe.
He knew he’d risen when his alarm went off, giving him ten minutes to head to the zeta tubes. Found Constantine again in the alley, since the man was with him now.
Couldn’t remember talking to him. But that wasn’t unlike himself anyway.
There was a hidden zeta tube downtown, only just far enough to justify the Batmobile, but Bruce would rather not leave it to drive home from Freeze’s place anyway.
He set it to return to the cave as he climbed out, at the end of another dark alley. The sun was already beginning to sink, painting the city in yellow and gold.
Constantine tapped carefully on the hood of the Batmobile between them, then jumped back as the car drove itself away, swearing. By the time he finished dusting himself off, Bruce was watching him again.
“Are yer back in there?” The magician asked cautiously, his own voice rough.
Bruce took a moment to assess his colleague. Never exactly tidy, Constantine looked more dishevelled than he had before Bruce and Harley left him.
Jason’s checkup likely hadn’t gone well.
Of course it hadn’t. Not if Jason felt the way Harley said… no. The way he’d told Harley he felt. Because Harley asked.
Something deep and weary in him tried to pull his shoulders down to sag, but he ignored it with the aid of long practice. Just gave Constantine a stiff jerk of the head.
“Hn.”
The man rolled his eyes, turning and heading for the defunct phone booth disguising the zeta tube.
“Great, monosyllables. Well, since yer back, listen up.”
The results of his examination, if Jason even let him perform it. Still, maybe the man would have something? It wasn’t like he couldn’t have cast a few spells without Jason knowing.
“First of all, yer boy ain’t a revenant.”
That jerked Bruce to a stop, his brows furrowing as he turned to face Constantine head on again. The magician had pulled a cigarette from somewhere, likely because they were heading for the Watchtower.
Bruce didn’t bother trying to stop him. He was too busy trying to process.
Constantine didn’t look happy either, so this probably wasn’t actually good news?
“What do you mean?” He growled, stepping closer and lowering his voice to avoid eavesdroppers.
Constantine rolled his eyes, waved his free hand, and the smoke from his cigarette crackled briefly in the air.
“None o’ that cloak and dagger shit, Bats. No one’s gonna hear us. But the kid, Jason? He’s not a revenant. Not sure what he is, actually, an’ not too keen on lookin’ deeper.”
It might have been the longest Bruce had heard him speak without saying “fuck” since the Amity Park question came up. The fact that he looked distinctly uneasy made that less reassuring.
“Why not?” Bruce growled, a little grateful to be able to step back and away from the smoke. Harley had left his head be for the most part, but it was already pounding again.
Constantine fixed him with a slow, speculative look.
“See, here’s my issue,” he began, raising a hand to cut off a growled protest and pointing directly at Bruce. “You? You’re Mr Worst Case Scenario. Can’t stop pokin’ at shit til it gives you an answer, or bites yer head off.”
That was certainly true. It was something that Alfred… Selina… Clark… Dick… Diana… almost everyone close to him had complained of.
Bruce wasn’t convinced it was a shortcoming, but he knew it about himself. It had been an underlying theme this whole investigation; Constantine telling him things because otherwise he’d go poking.
So what changed?
“You’re not gonna like whatever I tell you. An’ I could try an’ temper that by lyin’, or I could treat you like a fuckin’ adult on yer promise the you don’t go punchin’ inter shit yer don’t understand.”
Constantine stared expectantly at him, taking another long drag on his cigarette.
Ah. Waiting for Bruce to choose an option. As if there was any doubt?
“I swore your oath,” Bruce reminded him gruffly, and Constantine rolled his eyes again.
“An’ I’m fully aware you’re a tricky piece of shit that’ll try and work around it the second it comes up. That’s why it’s generic. You hear about the Ghost King, you back the fuck off, shut the fuck up, and run. That’ll include any of yer precious reports.”
He took another slow drag of his cigarette, watching Bruce the whole while. Bruce stared back, unsure what he was looking for but determined that he’d find nothing.
Shit. So much for having Red Robin and Oracle prod around for him. Though he had been planning to warn them to be delicate.
It barely occurred to him that showing nothing might tell Constantine more than anything else before the magician sighed and shook his head.
“Listen, B. The shit you need to know? Actually, really need to know? Jason’s… safe. There’s not a damn thing in the Infinite Realms that can hurt him now, whatever he is. I’d even put money on him bein’ demon proof, with the wards on him now.”
And wouldn’t it be so, so nice to believe that Constantine had put those wards on him? Bruce could feel the wish for it, a flight of fancy he rarely allowed himself.
Bruce let himself indulge in the want to believe for about the same length of time as that ominous pause.
“What wards?” He asked flatly, the low rumble not exactly hiding how he felt about the situation, but since he’d almost rather yell, he considered it fair.
Constantine, again, was not impressed. He folded his arms and prodded at Bruce with his still smoking cigarette.
“See, there’s that prodding. I’m trying to do this the nice way, B. Give you answers instead of just shutting you down, but you aren’t gonna know everything without a couple decades of practice, and you need to get over that.”
The magician took another drag, closing his eyes tightly for a second. When he opened them again, he looked entirely uncompromising.
The stern professional Bruce had only seen previously in life and death situations, and ones getting worse at that. Was this situation that dire?
“I could speak a word and make you forget this whole damn thing. Four more, and you’d have no choice about droppin’ it,” Constantine growled, clearly bitterly regretting not choosing that option. Bruce’s eyes narrowed in response.
He’d clearly ruled it out, but he hadn’t wanted to. Whatever he didn’t want to tell Bruce, Constantine expected him to have a powerful response.
Which meant that is was very bad, but also that Bruce’s natural response would make things worse. He could work around that.
He chose not to address the remark at all, just waiting for Constantine to continue. The man stayed silent just long enough that Bruce wondered if he was changing his mind on trying to make him forget.
This was why he hated magic. But he’d broken through it before. No spell could stand up to intense, detailed scrutiny, and he would surely have plenty of clues to remind himself when the problem was with his own son.
Finally Constantine sighed, flicked the butt of his cigarette to the ground, and crushed it under one heel. He seemed to have come to a decision, new purpose under the fear he’d been hiding since he first arrived.
“Let’s just get this over with,” he sighed, heading for the zeta tube. There was just a little more spring in his step.
Bruce frowned and moved to block him.
“The wards,” he pressed, a hint of irritation creeping into his voice. This conversation was important.
Constantine looked surprisingly chipper actually, raising his chin to give Bruce a sudden and almost startling smirk.
“Oh no, big guy. You had your chance to promise to behave like an adult, so we’re going with option three.”
He’d noticed Bruce’s lack of comment. Obviously, but Bruce hadn’t really thought he’d need to say anything.
Investigating was what Batman did. He knew how to do it tactfully, and without stepping on toes. He just wouldn’t promise not to do it.
None of which explained Constantine’s suddenly improved mood. It was almost the same satisfaction he’d show when he’d worked out how to pawn an unpleasant job off on someone else.
“And that is?” Bruce asked warily, suspecting he wouldn’t like whatever made this not Constantine’s problem. Constantine waggled a finger at him, like he was nothing more than a naughty child.
“I let you ask questions, after Wonder Woman promises to keep yer in line.” He said it with the finality of a lead weight, and it dropped through Bruce’s chest like one.
Shit.
Diana… Diana knew him far too well. If Constantine convinced her of whatever gave him this level of caution, she would camp in the bat cave to stop him if necessary.
Diana didn’t tolerate what she considered risk. If Bruce could convince her he was right instead… she could be a very useful ally. And she had always liked Jason.
Jason adored her. Wonder Woman had always been his favourite hero, even as a child. If Diana asked him, he might even agree to a consultation.
Bruce still didn’t know what had happened with today’s consultation, and apparently he wouldn’t even find out until they spoke to Wonder Woman.
He could extrapolate from that alone, frankly, even if Constantine wasn’t visibly rattled.
Bruce stepped aside somewhat reluctantly, letting Constantine step into the zeta tube first. They could technically fit in together, but he wasn’t exactly in the mood to play sardines.
The magician’s vehemence was troubling him, as was his conviction that Wonder Woman would be the answer. It was possible that Bruce had miscalculated the scale of the threat they were facing.
Whatever had warded Jason must be touchy enough to dislike any form of questions, and powerful enough to have its displeasure matter. And if it would be able to detect the questions being asked…
Contrary to popular opinions, Bruce did know how to temper his investigative instincts when called for. People only had to ask.
And.
Impress on him. A few times. That they meant it.
Honestly if they just told him why and what to expect, set some limitations and boundaries, it wasn’t like he was unreasonable. He just liked to verify data through his own sources.
Justice League Dark were a perfectly reputable source when he had to involve himself with magic. He could cross reference things between other members if he needed to check Constantine’s intel.
The unfortunate fact of the matter seemed to be that however little Bruce liked it, he did now need to learn more about magic. He’d been content to leave it to the experts for as long as he could, but…
But it now concerned one of his children. His second son, the one he’d lost.
At the very least, he needed to understand enough about the Infinite Realms to know how to keep Jason safe. What he would need, if there was anything they should be doing for him.
Not that the JL Dark had bothered to let him know when they thought Jason was a revenant. That might have been nice, even if apparently he wasn’t.
He’d already planned to start with Constantine’s attached reading on the Infinite Realms, and the Ghost King in particular for his new researches.
(Just the thought sent a shiver down his spine, and Bruce stepped into the zeta tube a little faster than necessary. Was that his oath? On just the thought?)
He could get information on these specific wards too. Cross reference with Zatanna when she was available. Perhaps contact Dr Fate.
The Justice League Dark had their own sections of both reference materials and secured artefacts in various bases around the world.
Studying those should be a sufficient compromise; he wouldn’t reach out to the Infinite Realms directly, not until the Anti-Ecto Acts had been dealt with.
Then they could get in touch with Jason’s mysterious doctor, provided he was willing. Have the dismantling of the acts as a show of good faith.
He’d have to ask Constantine about a sufficient apology too. And mention the acts themselves; somehow there just hadn’t been time today.
Stepping out into the Watchtower, Bruce was maybe just possibly anticipating the magician’s reaction, in a dark way. Let someone else have a bad day for a change.
The poor man had been so upset with the idea that Bruce might ask questions about the realms. The fact that the United States had declared a kill order on all its occupants was not going to go over well.
And all that sass and defensive aggression could be pointed at someone other than Bruce for a while.
Actually? He should wait until Constantine was sitting down. He could add it to his meeting notes, bring it up to the whole League at once.
There would be someone on site if the magician actually fainted.
Or if Bruce’s head actually exploded.
Bruce made a mental note to check their medical supplies and defences, in case there were any unpredictable reactions. He could swing by the infirmary before they got started.
Giving Constantine a quick parting nod, he turned away from the hall and walked quickly towards the infirmary. Just to check in.
Today’s meeting was just the Justice League, with Constantine as the sole representative of JL Dark; Dark’s members all seemed to know about the Infinite Realms and Amity Park already. They didn’t need the briefing.
They’d have to read Bruce’s meeting notes now though. The same ones he was fully aware most members of the League just ignored, considered wasteful paperwork.
They expected to be told directly if something was important. As if he had all the time in the world, and they had no personal responsibility.
The lights thrummed softly as he walked, all the little noises of the satellite’s systems ticking over in perfect order helping Bruce settle into his purpose.
Jason’s report had been thorough, and though Bruce could easily see the bias around his son’s words… in this case it was more than justified.
The wording used to describe Jason and others like him in the acts contained less expletives, but were no better. The veneer of detachment only made the disdain shine through more clearly.
As if his son were beneath contempt. If Jason were to be believed (and Bruce would confirm with Constantine and Shazam) then most of his family were ecto-contaminated.
It was almost nice to have a tangible problem to solve. An enemy he could face and defeat in simple, easy manoeuvres. It was unlikely to be a physical fight, but that hardly mattered.
The delicate machinations of politics were better left to Wonder Woman, Aquaman, damn near anyone but Batman. No, Bruce Wayne was far more influential in that arena.
A little money in the right places, press coverage, a big “himbo with a heart of gold” performance. They weren’t his preferred weapons, but he knew they were effective.
And for Jason, there was nothing at all he wouldn’t do.
Purpose and the time limit combined hastened his step, his cloak billowing around him as he stalked the halls of the Watchtower. The infirmary was empty; always good.
Their stocks were full, and there were three nurses on duty that Bruce had personally selected. He trusted all of them, and none looked worried at his visit.
Batman was well known for overpreparing. It always came in useful.
He was just making his way back towards the meeting hall, feeling markedly better himself with a firm goal in mind, when Superman rounded the corner ahead of him.
The man of steel was heading his way, worry writ large on his face. If he’d heard Bruce’s talk with Harley… actually, if he’d been able to overhear Constantine’s talk with Jason, that would be very useful.
Bruce prepared a few brief words to reassure his friend as succinctly as possible, and get them both moving back towards the meeting. They could actually talk afterwards.
He never got to say them. Superman ignored his little nod of greeting and hurried up to him, standing close enough that they couldn’t be overheard. Blocking Bruce’s path.
A thrum of dread wormed its way back into Bruce’s heart as he looked up into his friend’s earnest, deep blue eyes.
Clark kept his voice low, urgent and concerned as he whispered five words that shattered the world.
“Bruce? I can’t hear Jason’s heart.”
—————————
😈
Now quick, for extra bonus points, who can name what was supposed to happen at some point in the last two chapters and didn’t? This is your chance for a treat from the beginning of the next chapter
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Next chapter!
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mermaidsirennikita · 4 months
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ARC REVIEW: Honey Cut by Sierra Simone
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5/5. Releases 6/18/24.
vibes: WEAPONIZED LONGING, the perfect angst recipe, the man Lana Del Rey was singing about but much better, We Can't Discuss Our Feelings Because My Feelings Are Hard
Heat Index: 10/10
Isolde Laurence is in a bind (literally, at points). She's about to marry Mark Trevena (the cold, dangerous man who deflowered her and promptly crushed her heart) in an arrangement that will enable her to seduce him and offer his secrets to her uncle, a high-ranking cardinal. However, on her way to do so, she's fallen in love with Mark's romantic, pining bodyguard Tristan. And Tristan--who very much loves her back--is also in love with Mark, thanks to a preexisting whirlwind affair he put a stop to upon finding out about the engagement. Isolde is determined to, if nothing else, guard her heart against her new husband. And, for personal and practical reasons, honor the agreement they made years ago: once they exchange vows, they'll be faithful to each other.
Easier said than done.
But Isolde herself is deadlier than she seems, and in the midst of a thorny triangle, she may end up crushing not only Tristan's heart, but her own... and maybe even Mark's. If he has one.
Well, this was my most-anticipated release of the year, and BY GOD did it live up to expectations. This is an ongoing series (you must read Salt Kiss before starting this one, and in my opinion? You should ABSOLUTELY also read the prequel novella, Salt in the Wound, as it lays the groundwork for Mark and Isolde's relationship) and of course, I don't want to count chickens before they hatch, but... If Sierra pulls the ending off--which I totally believe she will; she's yet to let me down--this could end up being her best series yet. And that is a LOT coming from me, someone who worships at the altar of New Camelot (and Thornchapel, for that matter).
The thing about the way Sierra writes triads--and nobody does it better--is that they all feel unique. You might think that Mark, Isolde, and Tristan would have a lot in common with New Camelot's Ash, Greer, and Embry. They're MMF, they're based on Arthurian myth, these people literally know each other (Sierra: I owe you my life for that cameo). But the dynamic is completely different--and in this installment especially, quite darker. I didn't see Mark's darkness as much in Salt Kiss (Salt in the Wound... perhaps more so, which gives you some insight into the differences between his individual dynamics with Isolde versus Tristan) but here? Um. She portrayed the conflict within him and his ruthlessness perfectly... While also letting us even further into the vulnerability she hinted at in Salt Kiss.
Mark can be a difficult character for readers to humanize, I think, because we haven't had his POV yet. It's easy to sort of dismiss him as this frosty, stern alpha who doles out pain while also dealing with plenty of his own (on the inside, because Mark is clearly very uncomfortable with feeling a feeling). Where she makes it brilliant is through these moments of BOYISHNESS. We got sneak peeks of boyish Mark in Salt Kiss, but here? Oh my god. The grins, the poking at Tristan, the GOOFY HOT FACETIME SEX WITH ISOLDE??? It's so human, and dropping those sneak peeks in makes his pain even more palatable.
And the thing is that you do get that pain. Because Sierra also doesn't shy away from the agony of a love triangle and, yes, cheating in this book. I often find that MMF is used in a sort of like... "Why choose? Heehee it's all okay because everyone wants each other" get out of jail free card. Sierra really doesn't do that ever, but this is the hardest she's gone in on "these people are cheating, and it HURTS the person they're cheating on, and it HURTS them". No punches are pulled here. This is one of the angstiest books I've read, and as an angst hound, I loved every second of it.
The ending? I am going to be in actual PAIN until Bitter Burn (out early next year, SHIT). There was a moment in the last few pages of this book that made me gasp. In part because I really didn't think she'd go there on multiple levels. This is a book of huge swings, and for me, every single one worked.
Quick Takes:
--I have been very vocal about how much the one time Mark called Tristan "puppy" in a cut scene (Beg Me, which you should absolutely read if you can--I think it's on Sierra's website) has not left my head since. Guess what? It's just a regular nickname now. He says it SEVERAL times in this book, in prime moments. And I was extremely happy.
--You can for sure read this series on its own, but I will say that this book in particular "spoils" a good bit of New Camelot. In the same way that any romance in the same universe or series of standalones sort of spoils others, but if you want to read chronologically without any giveaways, you should read that series first. And in general, read it even if you do read Lyonesse first. Because it's gorgeous.
--I can't emphasize enough how happy Isolde and Mark's dirty Facetime calls made me. Like. At the end of the day, Mark is just like any other man with a hot young wife, desperately trying to get a peek over his phone. While someone else peeks, perhaps.
--Isolde's such a fantastic heroine. Broken and devoted to God and maybe lowkey a zealot, while also craving physical and emotional pain and release and Tristan's soft heart and Mark's cold one all at once. She's the kind of heroine we very rarely get to read about in romance. If I'm being honest, I was a little worried about how the dynamics would balance here, as so much of the last book was Mark and Tristan on their own, and then the remainder was Tristan and Isolde on their own. (Which is another reason why you should read Salt in the Wound first, in my opinion.) But God. The dynamic of the three, the dynamic between Mark and Isolde, just blew me away. Two black cats circling each other, Mark perhaps a little more reticent to open up to Isolde than Tristan because he recognizes something of himself in her.
While at the same time, I found that Tristan and Isolde's relationship deepened. I always fully believed in their agonized love for Mark, and their desire to stay loyal to him. Yet I also completely believed that they couldn't possibly stay away from each other, not permanently.
--Mark's backstory? I foresaw some surface level stuff, but not the parts that mattered. Those kind of blew my mind.
The Sex:
I mean, it's Sierra Simone, so it's creative and very much a part of the character development. One of the sex scenes in this book was so... it was really one of the best she's ever written. But also? DEVIOUS. Sierra, you did not have to do us like that. However, I'm glad you did.
There are so many different "flavors" of sex in this book--super kinky, kinda vanilla (or as vanilla as these people can get), happy, angsty, sad, passionate, light, funny.
You can expect, among other things: restraints, impact play, cum play, breeding, biting, public sex (a lot of that), car sex, edging, voyeurism, pain play, cum licking.......... all that shit. And more!
Look, dude. Read this book if you've read the other books. If you haven't read the other books, read those and then read this book. I can't recommend it enough. This is angsty, passionate, heady romance at its best. Hot and emotionally complex and well-written. Sierra's prose! It's what romance should be; she sets the pace, and we all must chase it.
Thanks to Candi Kane PR for providing me with a copy of this book. All thoughts and opinions are my own.
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how should i go about writing if i keep deleting and restarting everything I have every few minutes ??
The first thing to do is figure out why you feel the need to delete. Here are some things to consider...
1 - Do you know what you're trying to write? It's easy to imagine a writer as sitting down at the keyboard with an empty mind, and then--like turning on a faucet--a story simply flows out of them. But that's not really how writing works. Even the most organic writer sits down with a premise in mind, not to mention a basic grasp of how stories work--or at least they type of story they want to tell. If you sit down without these things and try to write a story, you're pretty much just snatching random ideas out of the air and hoping they take root, and it can be really hard to write a story that way. The solution is to spend some time learning about how stories work, then spend some time thinking up a premise, characters, and a story goal.
2 - Do you need a more solid plan? Not all writers can sit down with only a premise, characters, and story goal and create a story from that. Some of us need to do more planning. Some of us need to do a lot more planning. If you're trying to write a novelette/novella/novel, you might take a look at some different story structure templates to get an idea of the kind of structure that would work well for the story you want to tell. Story structure templates can be a helpful guide in figuring out what beats you need to hit, and you can use elements from different ones. Whatever works for your story. You might also consider doing a plot summary, timeline, scene list, scene cards, or any number of other things to help plan and plot your story.
3 - Are you focusing too much on quality? To (badly) paraphrase Ira Glass, the thing that got you into writing in the first place is your taste... you have good taste in stories, and you know what makes a story good. But if you're just starting out, or if you don't have a large volume of work under your belt, what you're putting out is probably not as good as you want it to be. That can be really, really frustrating, because we know what kind of writing we want to put out there, but when we feel like it's not happening, we want to backspace over it all. The thing is, though, writing is a craft. Like any other craft, the only way to get better at it is to practice, and practice means cranking out the less good stuff and accepting that it's a necessary part of the journey. If dancers watched the choreography for a performance one time and instantly did it perfectly, there would be no such thing as dance practice. If people took one piano lesson and could play a perfect concerto, we wouldn't have piano lessons or practice. So, even when the writing doesn't feel as good as you want it to be--or maybe feels downright awful--you have to push past the urge to backspace over it and get caught up on quality. You have to keep writing forward. And hey... editing and revision exists because there's always room to take the "rough draft" and make it better.
4 - Are you letting yourself get distracted? Few things make writing more difficult than distractions. If you know how stories work, know your premise, have done the planning you need to do, and aren't stressing about quality, but you still find yourself backspacing and starting over every few minutes, it could be due to distractions. If your phone is buzzing every minute, your sister is playing loud music in her room across the hall, the neighbor's dog is barking up a storm, or you can't stop thinking about something that happened at work--those interruptions are going jam up your momentum, and when you're constantly jerking to a stop like that, frustration makes you cranky and you're liable to backspace over something even if it's not a problem. So, if you can, try to eliminate distractions as much as possible when you sit down to write.
5 - Other possibilities... Even if none of the above situations seem to fit, it's still worth taking some time to consider what else might be going on. Can you find a pattern in what you're deleting and why? If you dig deep, and you maybe figure out what the issue is? What are some potential solutions?
I hope something here will help you get to where you're moving forward with your writing again.
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megalony · 3 months
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Please, Hurry Up- Part 2
This is the second part of my new Tommy x Eddie x Buck x Reader imagine, thank you all for the amazing feedback on the first part. I hope you will all like this next one.
Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra8484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @shelbygeek @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17
@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana
@shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @ml572 @jessie-lynn28 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700 @ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @itshamleth @loveyouamory
@loverbeesblog
Buddie Masterlist
Part 1
Summary: All of their friends and family turn up to their baby shower, but so do Evan's parents. And things don't go quite to plan.
Enjoy.
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"Looking good."
Tilting her head to one side, (Y/n) let a smile trickle across her lips when her eyes landed on Chris. He paused midway through rushing down the hall and a cheesy grin curved over his lips and put creases in his eyes.
He looked himself up and down before beaming his smile at (Y/n). She didn't know where he got his bundle of energy from. All of them knew Chris hadn't slept much last night, he had been riding high on adrenaline, much the same as Evan had been. They were all excited and flooded with anticipation for today. It was the baby shower.
Chris loved any excuse for a party, he didn't care when or where it was or why they were celebrating. He just loved to have everyone gathered together and the music and the atmosphere always brought out the best in him. Parties were his scene, and Eddie had a big family so Chris was forever invited to birthdays and anniversaries and weddings.
Today was better though, this was something for him to celebrate. This was an event Chris could join in with and not just be additional family. This was for his baby brother or sister.
"You want help?" Chris held his hand out somewhat expectingly towards (Y/n) and his smile melted her heart.
"Thank you sweetheart," She didn't technically need his help right now, but it was too sweet an offer to turn down.
(Y/n) let Chris take her hand while she pressed her other palm against the wall to steady herself. She still couldn't put a lot of weight on her left foot, even a week after her fall. The swelling had finally started to go down, but her foot wasn't a normal colour and she was walking with a limp and forever tilting towards the right like she was about to fall over.
He gave her hand a squeeze and took the lead down the hall, making sure to walk slow so (Y/n) could keep up with him.
She had to walk on her tiptoe mostly when she put any weight on her left foot and her knee was forever bent forward rather than being held straight. It made her feel like a flamingo with the way she constantly stood and leaned and held one leg up. But this was the only way (Y/n) could balance and walk unaided, and she wasn't going to use crutches.
The pair of them headed down the hall and made their way into the kitchen, pausing on the threshold to watch the scene in front of them.
Neither of them could make out what Evan was preparing, but it smelled good. He was leant over the counter, seemingly doing five jobs at once. He unwrapped clingfilm from silver trays, set cakes down onto plates and spun round to move some mini bites from a hot tray whilst trying not to burn his fingers.
And then there was Eddie, about to reach out for a plate until Evan slapped his hand away without casting one glance over at him.
(Y/n) sank her teeth down in her lower lip to morph her smile when Eddie's upper lip curled and he rolled his eyes.
"I can arrange a few cakes on a plate, you know." He quipped sassily, but all he got in response was a deadpan look from Evan who looked unamused. "What, you don't trust me to carry them all the way to the table?"
"What's the rule?"
A quiet 'ooh' tumbled past (Y/n)'s lips and she gently nudged Chris, encouraging him to head off into the living room. She knew he was waiting for Eddie's parents to arrive and the moment they turned up, Chris would be at the front door to greet them.
Her arms folded over her bump and she leaned against the doorway, her head tilted against the door while her eyes focused on her boys. Evan finally straightened up and turned to face Eddie who had his hands on his hips and an unhappy expression on his face.
"I cook, Tommy cleans and you…" A hint of a smile graced Evan's lips while one hand gripped the counter and the other planted on his hip, waiting for Eddie to finish the little rule they had come up with.
"Stay out the kitchen." Eddie finished in a grumble, quirking one brow with his jaw jutting from side to side.
He was no chef, they all agreed on that, and it was a good thing that Tommy, (Y/n) and Evan were all good in the kitchen. It meant Eddie never had to cook, something Chris was also relieved about, and right now Evan was in his element. He didn't need Eddie to help try and move the food into the dining room, he just wanted to be left to his own devices in here.
Evan caught Eddie's chin in his grip and nudged his head back so he could have a kiss. His hand trailed down Eddie's neck, fluttered across his collar bone and finally rested on his chest, giving him a little shove until he sighed and backed up towards the dining room.
He didn't know what to do with himself. Evan and Maddie had been doing the food preparation, Tommy had tidied up and put a few minimal decorations up wherever Maddie told him to. All Eddie seemed to do was get dressed and wait for orders that weren't coming.
"Baby, tell him to let me help." Eddie reached his arms out for (Y/n) when she slowly hobbled into the kitchen. He held her by the waist and reeled her into his chest.
He pecked her temple and started to glide his hands up and down her waist and over the small of her back. Their chests leaned together and Eddie tilted her back like they were in a dance, but just as he peppered a kiss to her lips, his brows furrowed and he tilted his head down.
"Where's your boot?" His hands gave her hips a squeeze and he rose a brow, the firm line of his lips telling her not to bother trying to play this off.
"In the bedroom."
"You're meant to walk in it, not sleep in it, go put it on." Evan wafted the tea towel in the direction of the hallway but when he snook a glance across at her, (Y/n) frowned.
"I'm not hobbling around in that for a party, besides, I don't have to wear it all the time."
She flopped her head forward onto Eddie's shoulder and looped her arms around his neck, dragging her fingers over the short hairs at the back of his neck which made him tremor against her. The boot strapped around her foot and ankle and it went up towards the back of her knee. It didn't exactly match the outfit (Y/n) had on.
She had settled for a thin lace black top with dark tone butterflies sewn across the material. Matched with a pair of knee-length black leggings and her sandals. Heels weren't an option with her messed up ankle and the baby bump weighing her down. The boot didn't go with her outfit and (Y/n) didn't have to have it on every second of the day. She could take it off for a while to let her foot rest and she had worn it this morning while she did a few odd jobs around the house.
(Y/n) didn't want it on if they were going to be having friends over and taking pictures, she wanted to look good, not bandaged up.
"If you don't wear it you'll mess up your ankle, you're already walking around on it too much."
"Evan…"
"Go sit down until everyone arrives. And you put that boot on later." There wasn't much room for discussion in Eddie's tone and (Y/n) found herself nodding along instantly. She would wear it later when her foot started to ache, when it hurt to hobble (Y/n) knew she needed the support before she did any further damage.
She felt Eddie press a kiss to her temple and his hands lingered on her hips until she was out of reach, slowly heading through to the living room to sit with Chris.
***
When he felt an arm curve around the back of his shoulders, Eddie let himself relax back until his shoulders hit a firm chest and he felt a familiar pair of lips against the back of his head. He smiled at the hand that draped over his collar bone and the feeling of those fingers tracing random patterns over the top of his crisp white button up shirt.
A smile danced across his lips and he tilted his head back so he could look up at Tommy who curved around him like a jacket.
Tommy pressed a kiss to his cheek and leaned his temple against Eddie's for a few seconds while the music blasted through the garden and filtered through the air.
"All good?" He murmured softly, grazing his teeth across Eddie's ear which had him shivering and gripping his beer bottle tighter.
Eddie found the will to hum and nod his head when he realised he hadn't given Tommy an answer.
Everyone looked happy so far. Chris was filtering around the garden, finding different people to talk to and riding high on the adrenaline. He had spent quite a lot of time with Eddie's parents the moment they arrived, showing them his room and the nursery which he had helped decorate. Chris had finally let his grandparents have a moment to themselves before he undoubtedly would go back to them.
Evan was stood across the garden with Bobby, the pair of them looking like they were exchanging secrets nobody else would be able to hear. And they could both see (Y/n) stood with Maddie and Karen, laughing about something neither of them could hear or make out.
When (Y/n) clocked the boys looking her way, her smile seemed to melt and something flashed across her eyes like a shooting star. She leaned her head at an angle, keeping the eye contact for a few seconds.
And both of them grinned when she balanced on her right leg so she could lift up her left leg just a little. Showing off the boot Evan had graciously helped her get on ten minutes ago. She had been in pain quicker than any of them thought and she gave in almost immediately, asking Evan to help her get it on.
It didn't go with the outfit and it was annoying, (Y/n) thumped when she walked and she felt like she was making indents in the grass when she walked out in the garden. But the support stopped her from leaning too far to the right and she could put a bit more weight down on her left foot without too much flaring pain licking up her leg. When they were going to take photos, (Y/n) was taking the boot off.
Tommy grinned against Eddie's cheek but when he heard the hinges on the back gate creak, he looked over to the left.
"Babe…" His hand patted down on Eddie's chest until he twisted to look across at the gate.
They had told everyone to come through into the garden and the gate had been left open for anyone else to walk in. But they hadn't expected Evan's parents to walk through the gate.
"I thought he said he didn't invite them." Tommy kept his voice quiet and tried to fake a smile to keep the atmosphere going. They didn't need to make a scene, Evan's parents might be here giving an olive branch their way. They might not make any remarks or upset any of them, they might just show some support tonight.
"Yeah… Buck, more guests." Eddie ticked his head to the side, almost clocking his head into Tommy's nose while he raised his glass to catch their boyfriend's attention. Those were his guests and he could go and greet them and start the introductions. Eddie and Tommy were staying well away and they knew (Y/n) would keep away too.
The smile on Evan's face faded the moment he looked away from Bobby.
Why were his parents here?
He could feel his shoulders quaking and pulling up near his neck and his eyes immediately scanned around the garden until he was locking gazes with his big sister. They were both under the impression that their parents wouldn't be coming today.
Evan had told them last week about the baby. He had finally gotten through to his mum on the phone and he tried to keep his tone level and his voice calm as he explained that (Y/n) was pregnant and he was going to have another kid. Since he, Tommy and (Y/n) all considered Chris their kid too.
He had been surprised when his mother sounded happy, he had been waiting for her to chide him and tell him how many mistakes he was making with his life. He thought she would ask who's baby it actually was or tell him to walk away from the relationship like she tried to do last time they were in town. But his mum had been shockingly happy, she congratulated him and said this was 'wonderful news' and she didn't sound sarcastic.
Evan casually brought it into conversation that (Y/n) was nearly seven months along and so Maddie was throwing a baby shower. But his parents never asked if they could come and they never said they would make the trip down for the party.
He hadn't expected them, and by the look on Maddie's face, she hadn't expected them to turn up either.
He placed his beer bottle down on the nearest surface, patted Bobby's shoulder and took the deepest, most calming breath possible before he steered himself in their direction.
He wasn't ready for this.
They were bound to say something. They would give funny looks or make little comments and the last time his mum had been around (Y/n), she hadn't been kind. Eddie had quickly steered (Y/n) away last time before she started a fight.
"Hey, you came."
Shock rattled through Evan and he froze when his mum reached out to hug him. He wasn't used to hugs. They were always short and awkward, they never felt like hugging a parent, it always felt like hugging a distant aunt he never knew he had. Maddie was the one who hugged Evan like the world depended on it. She hugged him like she loved the bones of him, those were the hugs he was used to.
The only time his parents properly hugged him without feeling forced was after he had the fire truck crush his leg and they came down to see how he was recovering from his operations.
His arms cautiously curved around his mum and he let her drag him down to her due to the height difference. His eyes widened and he quietly gasped when she kissed his cheek.
"Oh, honey of course we came. This is our first grandchild, after all." She gave his biceps a tight squeeze and crinkled her nose as she smiled up at him.
His brows rose in surprise and he felt his dad pat his shoulder before he moved to set a bag down along with the other presents everyone had placed on the table near the back door. Evan dreaded to think what the present was, his parents weren't great at gifts, at least for Evan. And this wasn't for him, this was for his baby. It wasn't like they actually knew Evan on a deeper level or knew any of his partners properly so he didn't dare think what they had brought.
But it was the thought that counts and they were trying, Evan was willing to try too.
"Do you want to come and get a drink?" Evan tried not to cringe when his mum held his elbow. He wasn't used to physical contact with her and right now she was stood closer to him than she had in years.
Was this all he had to do to get his parents to accept his relationship? If he'd of known extending their family and having a baby would have brought out the acceptance in his parents, Evan would have done this sooner.
"Evan, we're so happy for you." Margaret patted Evan's arm before she let go in exchange for the drink he handed to her. He knew neither of his parents would drink, and he had no idea if they were staying in town for the night or if they were going straight back home after this. He didn't really want them to stick around, but the effort was encouraging.
"You… you are?" He looked between them, raising a brow across at Maddie when she watched Phillip pat his shoulder.
"Of course we are, you're finally settling down."
Evan nodded, somewhat pleased with his dad's words and guided them towards (Y/n) and Maddie just as Karen drifted off to find Hen and Chimney. He walked behind them, curving an arm around (Y/n)'s waist so he could kiss the top of her head and hand her another drink.
"You came," Maddie wrapped her mum up in a quick hug and kissed her dad before she stood at (Y/n)'s side again. She could feel the nervousness radiating off of her.
(Y/n) didn't know what to say. She didn't know how to act when last time she had been ready to throw fists with how rude and disrespectful Margaret had been towards all three of her partners. She took jibes at Eddie and Tommy and started putting Evan down like she always did, and (Y/n) wouldn't stand for that.
Right now, though, Margaret was smiling and she looked the calmest (Y/n) had ever seen her. It was unnerving.
"Evan, you never said on the phone, do you know what you're having? Boy or girl?" Margaret looked down towards (Y/n)'s bump and for a moment it looked like she was about to reach out, but she thought better of it and stayed put next to Phillip instead.
(Y/n) danced her fingers across her stomach and looked up at Evan, letting him take the lead on this.
"No, we're leaving it a surprise."
Maddie had begged them to find out. She asked for them to get the midwife to write it down so they could do a little reveal today at the party, but all of them disagreed. They liked the thought of keeping everyone in suspense and guessing. They wanted to wait until the birth to find out, like it was supposed to be. And Tommy had started taking bets with his friends down at the 217 and Harbour.
After a few minutes of polite chat that turned (Y/n)'s brain to mush and sent her head spinning, she slouched back against Evan's chest and tilted her head back to look up at him. Her lips curved up and she tried not to squirm when she felt his cold fingertips sliding beneath her top to feather across her bump. He knew she was ticklish, it was why he was biting down a smirk and deliberately not looking at her.
It was good to see him talking to his parents calmly for a change and not having to hold back his words or his true feelings. They weren't putting him down, they were making an effort and it was a good start.
(Y/n) gave his wrist a gentle squeeze and tilted her head to pepper a few kisses against his throat, feeling him shiver beneath her wet lips.
He kissed her temple in retaliation and leaned his head close so she could whisper in his ear.
"The baby wants some cake." Her words tickled the shell of his ear and she squeezed his hand again before she pulled out of his arms. She didn't know who Hen got to make the cake, but the baby loved it and (Y/n) needed to get some more before it was demolished. Tommy had already had two slices, Eddie was on his third and Chris kept going back for more. There wouldn't be much left soon.
She could feel Evan's hands lingering on her waist until he had to let go before he toppled over. His touch left shivers in his wake and (Y/n) found herself grinning as she slowly hobbled over to the buffet table.
The height of the boot set her off balance and it didn't feel right to wear one high heel shoe to try and level it out and (Y/n) couldn't balance in one heel and one flat strapped boot. Her weight was constantly leaning to the right to keep as much weight off her left ankle as possible and as much as the boot made her feel secure and helped her walk, the pressure didn't do much good when the swelling was only just going down.
When her right foot caught and bent at an odd angle, her hands shot out for the table to steady herself. She felt a pair of hands quickly grab her elbow and her waist, reeling her back up before she went down on her knees or crashed into the table and sent it flying.
"You okay there?"
Embarrassment tainted (Y/n)'s face as she looked up over her shoulder to find Bobby stood behind her with a calm expression and a tender look in his eyes.
"Hm, thank you." She dipped her eyes down and tried to straighten up so Bobby didn't have to keep hold of her. That was why she didn't want to wear the boot, it didn't look right and it set her off balance with every step. At least she hadn't gone down like a sack of potatoes and made a right fool of herself in front of everyone.
"No problem, so, how are you?" Bobby nodded when (Y/n) pointed to the cake, silently asking if he wanted another slice since she was cutting some for herself.
She put a slice on his plate, one on hers and plated another bit up so she could go and find Chris in a minute and hand him some before it all disappeared. Her right hip leant up against the table and she kept a steady hand on the edge, just to make sure she didn't set herself off balance again.
"I'm doing better… this things more hassle than it's worth, though." Her gaze cast down to the boot and her head ticked to the side. She took a sweeping glance around the garden, just to make sure none of the boys had caught her subtle trip.
If they saw they would be flying over to make sure she was alright and Evan wouldn't let her take the boot off if he saw she had tripped. But she was going to discretely hide it soon so she could walk a bit better and feel a little more normal.
"At least your a better patient than Buck, I tell you if he does any more damage to that leg I'm not babysitting him again."
A chuckle rumbled through Bobby's chest and caused (Y/n)'s chest to flutter with a quiet laugh. She agreed. They had all been pulling their hair out when Evan had his accident with the fire truck.
The operations weren't so bad, it was the recovery. Trying to tell Evan to take it easy was like talking to a brick wall expecting an answer. (Y/n) had been helping him get washed and get in and out of the bath without getting his cast wet. Tommy and Eddie had been helping him move about the house since he wasn't great on crutches.
They all had to stay with him at some point or another so he didn't try and overdo it. Bobby and Maddie had been round to help calm him down and prevent him from trying to do too many physio exercises or push himself too far in his recovery. He had been the best and the worst patient in the world, all at once.
"Hopefully the only person needing babysitting will be this one." (Y/n) didn't dare think about any of her boys having any accidents. She didn't want to consider Evan getting any worse with his leg or having another injury. She didn't need to think about Eddie getting shot again or Tommy coming off shift with a busted shoulder.
The only one (Y/n) wanted to think about babysitting was their impending arrival. And Bobby seemed to be on the same train of thought because his expression softened and his eyes cast down to her bump.
"Well in that case, me and Athena are always available."
"You might regret saying that in a few months," (Y/n) gave Bobby's shoulder a squeeze before she picked up the paper plates and weaved past him. Heading in the direction of Chris while Bobby turned to drift over to Athena and May who were sat basking in the sun.
(Y/n) took a deep breath when her eyes landed on Chris and she realised who he was talking to. Eddie's parents. She hadn't had a proper conversation with them since they arrived today. Eddie had talked to them for a long while before the party officially got in swing and Evan had exchanged pleasantries with them.
But (Y/n) hadn't gotten round to speaking to them yet, she never knew what to say or how to act. Eddie's mother had given her the riot act when they first met and made it clear she didn't like Eddie being in a multiple relationship like this, as if it was somehow (Y/n)'s fault. As if she had enchanted all three men under her spell, like this was all her doing.
Things had settled down between them since then, but they had mixed emotions about the baby. Eddie had made them promise to try and get along with his partners today, he told them in no uncertain terms that he didn't want a fight or an argument happening today and they agreed. They said they would try to get along.
"Here baby, I saved you some." She held the plate out to Chris, watching his eyes light up as he took it from her with a wide smile.
She let herself slump against the back of the garden chair Chris was perched on and watched the way he swung his legs back and forth. His head was nodding along to the music and he instantly dived in to take a big bite out of the blue and blushing pink sponge cake.
A quiet "Thanks mum," murmured between mouthfuls of cake and he rested his head against (Y/n)'s arm when she patted his shoulder.
"And you, you look lovely today." Eddie's mum motioned her hand towards (Y/n) with a genuine smile that caught her off guard. She wasn't usually one for dishing out compliments, especially not to (Y/n).
What had Eddie said to her this morning?
"Oh, thank you." Her eyes cast down to her outfit that she hadn't been too sure about this morning until Tommy had been unable to look anywhere else and had his hands roaming all over her. "Chris said you're staying in town for a few days, do you have anything planned?"
Chris had been more than overjoyed that they were staying for a few days, he didn't have that much family here in LA so to have his grandparents here was a lovely surprise.
"I think we've all been conscripted into the zoo tomorrow, something about Buck giving us a tour round?" She looked a little unsure about the details, but the way she laughed at the end of her sentence made (Y/n)'s heart take flight from her chest.
She watched the elder woman brush her long hair over her shoulder and tilt back so casually in her chair, as if they had all been friends for years. She was making an effort, a true effort. And by the sounds of it, all of them would be spending the day together tomorrow. A way to become closer and intergrate into a bigger family.
"You're in for a treat." (Y/n) leaned down so she could kiss the top of Chris's head when he started to giggle.
Going to the zoo was Evan's thing to do with Chris, and going to the cinema was something Tommy and Chris both enjoyed. Just like Eddie and Tommy preferred to go to boxing and wrestling matches together, something Evan and (Y/n) weren't so keen on. They all had their little things together, but the beach, arcades and theme parks were things they all loved to do together as a family.
Tomorrow sounded like it was going to be a good day.
Once the conversation started to change and taper off into a new direction, (Y/n) politely excused herself. She put her empty plate on the side table, unsure where to drift off to now but she knew she was ready to sit down for a while.
Shivers tore up and down her arms when she felt a familiar pair of lips attach to the side of her neck. She could feel Tommy's teeth nip and graze over her skin and a slight scratch when he bit down softly. His chest moulded up into her back, curving around her and leaning down to be level with her.
"Here," He draped his right arm around her waist, holding his hand out in front of her where he was holding two plastic cups between his fingers.
She gratefully took one but her chest tightened and her back jolted against Tommy's chest when a frozen cold beer bottle suddenly pressed into the left side of her abdomen. Droplets of juice splashed around the rim of her cup and drizzled down her hand like the first flickers of rain and electric shocks coursed up and down her side and down through her arm.
"Tommy!" She hissed through a quirked smile, trying to wriggle away but he pressed the bottle closer until the condensation was soaking into her shirt and her stomach was shuddering at the cold temperature.
The bottle moved around to the middle of her bump and she could feel Tommy's fingers dragging along, creating patterns over her shivering skin which had him laughing into her neck. He bit down just enough to leave a scratch against the side of her throat, quickly soothing the touch with his tongue before he reeled his head back.
He peppered a few tender, lasting kisses up and down her throat and leaned round so he was hovering over her shoulder, lips puckered, expecting a kiss.
"Stop trying to wake them up," (Y/n)'s voice came out quieter than a whisper and her words were gentle, spoken into Tommy's mouth as she was already kissing him before she was finished speaking. She knew what he was trying to do, he was trying to get some movement or a kick out of the baby.
"You feeling okay?" He finally shifted the bottle away from her stomach, pulling her lower lip between his teeth with a growl when (Y/n) dragged her finger down the side of his sharp jawline.
"We're good."
He hummed in response, nodding before finally unravelling himself from around her, leaving (Y/n) suddenly cold and hollow as she watched him head over to Evan, presumably who the other drink was for.
Her eyes couldn't seem to pull away from her boys as she took a sip of her drink and feathered her free hand absentmindedly across her bump. She didn't realise she was smiling until Evan caught her eye and winked in her direction.
But her gaze swiftly turned to the right, glancing in the direction of the Buckleys, gathered next to Maddie.
"What're they doing here?" Margaret motioned her glass in Eddie's direction who was now stood chatting to his parents. He was stood behind Chris's chair, both arms wrapped around his son's shoulders and his lips attached to the top of Chris's curls.
(Y/n) took a few steps closer, unsure what Margaret was talking about, but she could feel ice cold dread clawing down the back of her neck and down her spine as Margaret's expression seemed to change. The placid smile she wore earlier was nowhere to be seen. Her lips were parted and curved down oddly at the corners with her upper lip and nose crinkling in what (Y/n) could only describe as horror.
The way she narrowed her eyes had (Y/n) shuddering and realising that she was looking across at Evan. More specifically, at the way Tommy was draped around Evan like a blanket.
Tommy had his arm around Evan's torso, hand flat on his stomach, chest up against Evan's back and he kept kissing the side of his head in between drinks.
"Did you think they'd be at work?" Maddie tilted her head to one side, unsure why her mum was so spooked and uneasy all of a sudden. Had Evan not explained things properly? Had he only mentioned the baby shower in passing and not given all the details? After all, they hadn't expected their parents to actually turn up today.
"He- he's still with them?"
Anxiety clawed at the back of (Y/n)'s throat and she could feel the baby kicking, waking up with the bursts of adrenaline (Y/n) was getting. Her stomach churned and she was sure that cake she ate was going to make a reappearance.
What was going on? What did Margaret think was happening here? (Y/n) knew it had been too good to be true that they had been so accepting and loving towards Evan when they turned up today. She knew there had to be some reason or miscommunication going on.
"What?" She tried not to let her voice tremble as she walked over to stand beside Maddie, staying as close to her as possible with enough distance between herself and Evan's parents.
"Evan told us you were pregnant, we assumed that meant you'd gotten out of this stage. How can you start a family with this unconventional mess? They shouldn't be here-"
"They're our partners, where else would they be?" A defensive tone took over (Y/n)'s voice and her shoulders straightened and squared up, but her hand stayed on her stomach almost protectively.
So they truly had misunderstood. They thought Evan and (Y/n) had suddenly come out of their relationship with Tommy and Eddie. They thought the baby was just Evan's and that they were starting fresh together without their other two partners. How could they think that Evan would break up with the boys and not tell them? How could they think he would break up with the boys but not (Y/n)?
Evan was constantly telling them how happy he was now. Maddie was always trying to tell them to be inclusive because she knew her brother was the happiest he had ever been. She knew he was loved and cared for and he was who he always wanted to be when he was with his family.
"Well who's baby is it?"
The snappy tone in Phillip's voice took (Y/n) by surprise and she leaned back, taking a step away when his hand moved dangerously close to her stomach. She bit back a groan, hiding the cringe that tore through her when she stepped back on her bad foot and put a bit more weight on it than she was used to recently.
She could feel Maddie's hand moving to grip her arm for comfort and security while she lifted her head, eagerly trying to catch either her brother or Tommy's attention. They were going to need help with this conversation.
"Theirs." (Y/n) surprised herself with the confidence in her voice even though her heart was hammering away in her chest and her head was fogging up.
It was their baby. Paternity didn't matter when there were four people in this relationship and all three of the boys were agreed from the beginning that they were going to raise this baby together, as theirs. Just like they were all bringing Chris up together.
"Please don't do this-" Maddie sighed, pursing her lips when her mum shot her an awful glare and huffed as if Maddie should be chiding and degrading (Y/n) too.
This was a party, a happy occasion and Maddie wanted this to go smoothly. Evan never celebrated his birthday as a child, their parents were too cold and uncaring to give him a special birthday or throw him a party. Maddie always tried to throw little parties for him, but after he left college and moved away, she knew he still didn't celebrate his birthday.
Even now, he was reluctant to have a party or have people acknowledge his birthday and it killed his sister. So to throw a party that was still somewhat for him was all she wanted to do. She wanted to do a party that included Evan and revolved around him and his partners. This was a happy occasion. Everyone was so excited for this baby, Maddie didn't want her parents walking in here and ruining today.
"So you don't know who's child you're having? What are you going to tell them? What are you going to tell people? How fair is it to get Evan to raise a child that probably isn't even his?"
"Hey! That's enough." Evan's voice growled and cut through the music, breaking apart the previously calm atmosphere that seemed to quake around him.
He found himself standing in front of his parents, putting himself in front of (Y/n) and his sister like a shield of armour. The way his shoulders rose and straightened made it seem like he was growing and expanding on the spot and the deep breath he sucked in had his chest rising too.
A bubble of dread swelled up in the pit of (Y/n)'s stomach and she found herself backing away before she could think better of it. She didn't want to stand here and have Evan's parents looking at her like that, she'd had enough of those looks from her own family and from people at work. She wouldn't stand and be stared at or talked to like that in her own home.
(Y/n) aimed for the back door but she didn't get that far before a tense chest moved in her line of sight and hands found her shoulders.
Eddie swerved in front of her, grabbing (Y/n) before she stumbled into his chest. Her head stayed tilted down towards the floor and Eddie kissed the back of her head while one hand moved to curve around her waist instead. He didn't want her to disappear inside, this was their home and no one had the right to make her feel uncomfortable or like she had to walk away.
His thumb glided up and down her hip while his other hand cupped the back of her neck. He slowly walked her back towards their partners who were stood together like a brick wall that no one would be able to break through.
He breathed into her hair, trying to stay calm and stop himself from bounding over there to say something to defend all three of his partners. But he knew he didn't have to. No matter how desperately he wanted to, Evan seemed to have this situation under control. Eddie had spoken to his own parents this morning, this was Evan's ground to cover.
His eyes stayed focused on Evan who looked like he was ready to explode. His hands were balled into fists at his sides, his shoulders were almost touching his jaw and he was visibly shaking and vibrating on the spot.
Even the feel of Tommy's arm around his waist and the feel of his hand squeezing his hip didn't do much to calm Evan down.
"Evan, you can't do this. A relationship as strange as this is one thing, but bringing a child into the equation-"
"You really wanna stand there and lecture me about being a parent, after the way you raised me?" They had no ground to stand on when it came to being a parent. Evan had learned to pick himself up and dust himself down on his own. He learned to go to his big sister to patch him up and give him advice and guide him in the right direction.
He got life lessons and skills and more importantly, a sense of love and belonging from Bobby. Nothing useful came of being around his parents and they couldn't try and lecture him on a subject they had failed so miserably at.
"If you can't accept my family and my choices, then you shouldn't be here. My happiness is more valuable than your opinion."
His voice was quiet enough not to shout aloud for the rest of the neighbourhood to hear, but just on the edge of a louder tone that the rest of his friends and family in the garden would be able to hear.
If they couldn't let themselves be happy for Evan, then he needed them to leave because he was happy and at the best place in his life. He wasn't broken or lost or confused or searching for something that came with reckless consequences. Evan had three adoring partners, a stepson he cherished more than life itself and a baby on the way.
This was a time to celebrate, not a time for his parents to try and put him down like they always did.
"That means you can leave now. Don't let the gate hit you on the way out." Tommy leaned his chin over Evan's shoulder and pointed towards the gate, shaking his beer bottle to further his point. They couldn't stay, they weren't welcome any more after causing a scene and no one was going to miss them if they left.
Evan didn't realise he was shaking until he felt Tommy's hand gliding up and down his waist to try and calm him down and bring him back to the present.
His lips curved into a shaky smile and he dipped his head down to the right when he felt (Y/n) push up behind him. Her lips attached to his arm and her hands found his hips, staying mostly hidden behind him but not wavering in the way she held him, keeping them both grounded and secure. And he could feel Eddie stood on his other side, meshing up against him and Tommy.
As soon as the gate swung shut with a horrid, creaking groan, a wave of relief washed over all four of them and the atmosphere shifted again.
The music playing in the background seemed to become louder and come back into focus. All eyes were in their direction, but all they could see were encouraging looks, soft glances and tender smiles.
"Come on, time for presents."
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zedortoo · 1 year
Text
Pizza Autism: the novella
Pizza Tower autism and/or ADHD headcanons go go go!!!!
warning there is. So much under the cut. I go off about everyone's tism
Peppino:
-Middle aged man autism. Ohh my god this guy is so autism we're starting off strong
-Most of his stims are physical and are probably. Not the most healthy (biting, banging wrists together, hair pulling etc)
-He has arfid frfr! Despite being a chef he's very careful about what he eats, however most italian foods are safe foods for him.
-Struggle showing empathy, even if he feels it. Yall saw how he reacted to Gerome mourning John he was out of his depth 😭
Gustavo:
-gnome autism.
-poor dude can't understand sarcasm to save his life. Also really bad at comprehending deeper meanings and stuff... Honestly me too Gustavo. Me too.
-actually gets overstimulated really easily. he grew up in a place similar to the gnome forest in the tower, where the air was always somewhat humid. If there's a dehumidifier running anywhere he can practically sense it and will immediately get upset bc he is too dry 💔
-His stims are mainly vocal (i.e. "I'm going to kill you") but he also likes to bounce on the balls of his feet and rock back and forth!
Mr Stick:
-French autism
-Hes not actually a huge asshole all the time, SURE he can be blunt and come off as rude but most of the time the mean persona is a mask. His really close friends know he's just a weird dude
-(stole this idea from Olympe) He is a routine lover!! Has his entire day planned out as soon as he wakes up. If you get in the way of his routine you will be turned into an ambiguous ball of meat. He was SOOOO pissed off when he got stuck in the tower bc it's wasn't in his routine so he robbed the whole damn place out of malice
-Innapropriate reactions to sensetive situations. If he had to comfort someone it would be Joever for him.
-Represses most stims because he thinks he's embarrassing. When in private though he'll spend ages examining textures and smelling paper (I do this all the time it's so fun). Occasionally when he's tired or comfortable he'll let out a high pitched squeak that noone can believe came from that middle aged man.
-I could go on with more. I love talking about this cunt.
Pepperman:
-Capsicum autism.
-Also has inappropriate reactions to things. Has no vocal control either half of the time he doesn't realize he's yelling
-Has a habit of chewing on/wanting to taste everything. Ate several wardrobes worth of Polly pocket clothes as a kid probs. Has to physically stop himself from giving his art supplies a taste. Occasionally eats an eraser still.
-If someone reorganizes his shit they WILL be killed this dude knows exactly where everything he needs is he has his own fucked up system
-Mainly uses stim toys. Has a collection of high end custom made ones but is too afraid of wearing them out so he chews on a toy dog bone instead and it's mangled to BITS
Vigilante:
-Cheese autism.
-This dude has know idea what autism actually is. He knows he's different compared to a lot of people, but he's never had the right word for it.
-Strong sense of justice. If something is wrong he WILL set it right. He got super upset when he realized Peppino wasn't actually an outlaw and he had tried to kill an innocent dude
-HATES HATES HATES processed foods. says he can taste the chemicals.
-Doesnt really stim in public. He'll tap his boot or spin the barrel of his gun if he gets really overstimulated but he much prefers to just pet some of his farm animals until he feels better
Noise:
-Rat autism!!
-This dude constantly needs to be overstimulated he loves it. If things are too quiet he gets super upset and starts bouncing off the walls and shit
-HATES the texture of carbonated drinks but forces himself to drink them because the flavour is worth it.
-Hes has like, three masks on at all times. There's the feral showbiz fella we all know and love, then beneath that is a more controlled businessman type, and beneath THAT is another, slightly less feral rat man.
-goes semi verbal sometimes. Everything just gets tangled up in his mind and he can't spit out the words he wants. He hates it when this happens during a show.
Noisette:
-Bunny autism!!!
-classic weirdgirl type. Would totally read warrior cats and roleplay as a cat on the playground as a kid.
-Also really bad with understanding emotions. You have to tell her specifically if she's upset you or something otherwise she just will not realize.
-makes a lot of vocal stims. Mainly just little beeps and stuff (I like to think she'd make that one jerma substitute teacher noise. Does anyone know what I'm talking about) Also loves to rock back and forth!!
-Has texture issues. She personally disposed of all the Sherpa fleece in the tower.
Fake peppino:
-autism supreme.
-like fr this dude is just the embodiment of autism. it eats vaccines to get more autistic/j
-cant understand when it's making someone upset. Actually, similar to Noisette, is bad at perceiving negative emotions overall.
-mirrors a lot. I mean that's like an integral part of their character. They mainly take after Peppino but will start acting like someone if he's around them long enough.
-melts into a puddle when overstimulated. Honestly? I wish I could do that too.
-Mainly mirrors stims from friends. It freaked everyone out when they started repeating Gustavo's catchphrase.
Pizzahead:
-PIZZA AUTISM!!!
-horrible moral compass this dude will do anything she wants and genuinely won't see what's wrong with it. Case in point the whole of pizza tower
-used to mask her true silly self a lot to be considered more 'normal' but decided normal ppl were boring as hell and dropped the charade
-arfid haver!! Loves pastries and breads and stuff, basically refuses to eat anything else. Has a personal vendetta against cantaloupe and has vowed to destroy it all bc he hates it soooo much
-taps his foot as a stim!! Also likes to jump around and the like, will rapidly shake their fists if incredibly excited
Gerome:
-Rock autism
-This guy loves his own company. Sure, he'll happily be social, but drops the mask as soon as he's alone. Just likes to be alone!
-Also not big on touch. The only person who's allowed to lay a finger on him is John, if anyone else just like. pats him on the back he will freeze up.
-loves being a janitor because the job is mostly repetitive. He cleans each floor in his own order, he has it all sorted out!
-loves bath bombs and stuff. Really likes the smells and just the fizz and the way they crumble in his fingers. Sometimes he'll just throw one in the sink and watch it for ages
-makes this weird clicking noise in the back of his throat as a stim. It's a rather unsettling noise but it's really the only way he stims in public. When alone he likes to feel textures of different things
John:
-hivemind autism!
-I feel bad for this dude man imagine having your being spread out through several different pocket dimensions and all of them have different textures and shot this poor bugger must've been overstimulated for years
-very blunt. Says what he wants with no remorse. Also doesn't have any volume control so often doesn't realize he's yelling
-I imagine when he was resurrected and was no longer a hivemind he had to take a long time alone just being himself. Duuuude imagine having to mask for YEARS because you were never ever alone I would lose my fucking marbles
-opposite of his brother, he doesn't understand personal space. Will often accidentally get I'm ppls faces because he doesn't realize how close he is to them. This also makes him somewhat clumsy and he has a habit of running into things
-Mainly has facial/expression stims. Will pull a big ol' grimace if something goes wrong and grin like an idiot when happy (see: when he got revived)
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firstkanaphans · 3 months
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First of all wanted to let you know that I was in awe of your Eclipse translation. I love your fics in general. They are absolutely lovely (its a pun on your penname get it?)
Which brings me to my second point. I am currently translating a novella from one of my native languages to English at work. And I keep getting stuck. Do you have any tips on translation? What is your process like? Thank you!!!
Thank you so much!! I had a lot of fun translating that novel. If it wasn’t so time consuming, I would definitely do translations more often because it's a lot less stressful to transform someone else’s work than write your own. 
Translating The Eclipse was a 3-step process for me, although it’ll probably be easier for you since you’re fluent in both of the languages you’re working in. Although I'm actively learning Thai, I'm nowhere near fluent enough to translate a 500-page novel without assistance. (Why are BL novels so unnecessarily long??) So Step 1 for me was to run everything through Google Translate. When Google inevitably spat out something incomprehensible, Step 2 was to comb through the original Thai and translate everything word-for-word. I didn’t bother correcting grammar or trying to edit things to make them sound good, I simply got a very basic translation down on the page. From there, Step 3 was to edit that translation into something worth reading.
I’ve always had a problem with Thai novels specifically because the official translations read like car manuals. They’re boring and lifeless and god bless those of you who can actually read them, but I just cannot. I spend the whole book editing it in my head. I don’t think this is the fault of the novels, though! The Eclipse, for instance, is beautifully written. I just think these publishers are hiring translators who aren’t also writers. For a good translation, you need someone who can do both.
For example, it’s very common in Thai writing to use epitaphs instead of names when talking about characters (i.e. “the small one,” “the older one,” etc.). This is rarely done in English because it sounds clunky, but it serves a purpose in Thai where characters are often using their own name as a pronoun and the writer may not want to repeat their name yet again in the dialogue tag. If I had stopped at Step 2 above (like a lot of BL novel translators do) and kept the epitaphs intact, English speakers would have had a difficult time reading the novel. I had to make some changes so that the magic and meaning of the original stayed intact, but the writing was also appealing to an English-speaking audience.
I enjoy editing at baseline and there’s something so satisfying about taking a lifeless paragraph and making it sing. Just as an example, here’s the first paragraph of The Eclipse novel without any changes: 
The afternoon sun cast his shadow across the floor while Akk walked away from the building towards the Suppalo school gate. At this moment, that shadow didn’t seem as tall or long as him—the tallest male student in the Mathayom 4/1 class. The only thing that seemed to be the same was their shape, so thin it looked gangly.
And here’s what I translated it to:
The afternoon sun cast Akk’s shadow across the ground as he stepped out of the building towards Suppalo’s gate. At this time of day, his shadow was not nearly as tall as him—the tallest boy in his class. In fact, the only thing he and his shadow currently had in common was that they were both so thin they looked gangly.
It’s not a significant change, but it sounds much better. I think when some people make translations, they’re scared to change anything in deference to the original author, but I guarantee the original author would want you to change things if it makes their writing read the way it is supposed to. So I guess my biggest piece of advice to you would be to not be scared of putting a little of your own voice into the writing. Contrary to popular belief, translations do allow for some creative freedom as long as the original meaning remains intact.
I hope that helps! And good luck on your own translation. Like I said, it's time consuming, but worth it!
And since I’ve accumulated a surprising number of new followers since I originally translated the novel, here's a link for anyone interested in reading!
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Just gonna hop onto the previous anons question about tropes, (excuse the ramble) but I couldn’t help but agree with your take on the yandere trope!!
No hate to anyone, but I just wish there were more yandere fics out there where the mc wasn’t at risk of losing a limb!! Like, make them sick and twisted. Make the yandere commit utter atrocities for their darling, but make them in the name of love, as obsessive and twisted as theirs is. If I don’t leave the fic questioning my sense of morality, I don’t want it, lol. I just can’t see a yandere who would kill someone for looking at the mc wrong; feel alright with causing lasting damage to their so! It’s why I like Lovesick so much, definitely some hiccups on the boys' parts, and I’ve never felt so genuinely split between wanting the boys back or the mc leaving!! (Absolutely love it!!)
Anyways, I was really curious about how you feel about angst? Do you prefer fics to remain within a certain word limit? I’ve had some people say they won’t touch fics that are just too long, so I was really curious on your take with that!
Love your work and take care!~ <33
Ramble away my lovely you’ve articulated yourself so well! I completely agree, and I have read some messed up yandere fics and novels (haunting Adeline anyone?) but some I’ve read I just completely switch off especially if I can’t feel the yandere’s “love” for the character, if it’s just pure possession or obsession with no softness I’m like no 😵‍💫 I cannot I’m sorry
And OMFD I need to catch up with lovesick, I was completely hooked and then I didn’t touch tumblr for ages and now there are so many chapters to binge but no time to binge them 😭 I’ve got a week off coming up soon I might just do it then but I’ve also started the ACOTAR series and I’m hooked with that too
@angelicyoongie is one of my favourite writers on this site, the way Maggy writes is just 👌🏽👌🏽👌🏽 the woman is younger than me but she’s my role model for sure
I can read more than one thing at a time though I’m currently reading 3 books at the same time (and making no progress 🤦🏽‍♀️🤷🏽‍♀️)
I have a love hate relationship with angst, I love it as a writer and admire other writers who do it well, it kills me as a reader because it just hurts like hell 😭 if it’s ripped my heart out then it’s an A class fic
And to be honest I don’t mind word limits I think it depends what you want to read, sometimes you just want a drabble but sometimes you want a full on novella where you can get deep into the feeling. I think the longest oneshot fic I’ve read on tumblr was 40k words and I loved it. Chapters long fics are even better there’s more to digest, it’s hard to find a fic your craving sometimes so always good to have lots of words of it
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