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#this is seriously a massive fen
hattiestgal · 9 months
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For today's fen: MASSIVE BEAFTE
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jpitha · 2 months
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Between the Black and Grey 54
First / Previous / Next
Gord's long strides thundered over the deck plates as he made his way up to the Command Deck of Home. Chloe was able to keep up, but a few others struggled, breaking into a trot or even a jog every few meters.
"Do we know who did it?" Gord barked, as he continued walking.
"No, Gord. Nobody has come forward with an admission or claim." Chloe glanced down at a pad as she talked. There were videos of immediately after the impact on Luna. Four massive craters glowed orange red, with text overlaid announcing death tolls. The camera cut to a shot of the former shipyards, debris spreading accelerating away. The announcer was listing off orbitals and stations at risk from the debris. Imperial ships were linking in, attempting to redirect the debris before it could hit anything else.
"Has the Empire stated who they think is to blame?"
"No Gord, not yet. It only happened a day ago though, they're still doing damage control."
"Has Fen said anything?"
"No Gord, the Empress only just returned from annexing her home station. She hasn't made an official comment yet."
On the Command Deck, Gord turned away from the Commander's chair and made his way to the executive meeting room just off to the side. There were already six people sitting, looking worried. Gord sat at the head and Chloe sat next to her.
"Gord! What happened? Was it us?" One of the AIs in the room, a young looking man spoke up, his eyes wide with worry.
Gord shook his head. "I don't think so. Nobody came to me with a request for a mission like that - not that I would ever approve it. We don't know who did it yet."
Another one, a woman with fiery red hair done up in a tight bun was next. "What about images or video of the launch? Do we have anything like that?"
Chloe shook her head. "No. It looks like the impactors each had their own wormhole generator, and they linked into Sol a million kilometers from their target after already being accelerated to 80% C. The targets had less than five seconds to react."
The group was silent. Nobody had realized that the impactors had linked in with no warning.
"T-This is horrible! Who would do such a thing?" An AI at the other end of the table, dressed in a grey suit spoke up. "Was it the Gren? The Xenni?"
Gord shook his head. "I don't think so. This kind of wanton destruction has all the hallmarks of a human attack. There are pockets of humans that resist the Empire, but I did not think any had the means..." Gord stops mid sentence. His eyes widen, but he doesn't say anything.
"What is it Gord? Can you think of someone?" The main in grey raised an eyebrow, curious.
"N-No." Gord quickly looked down at his pad, and flicked to a new page. "Just running things through." He looked back up. "What are we going to do about this?"
The woman in red looked at Gord oddly. "Nothing? As horrific as the attack was, it crippled the Empires war making ability. The most generous estimates are that they won't make another Super Dreadnought for five years. Account for retraining sailors and civilians for construction and it becomes ten years more likely."
Gord's mouth hung open. "You're not seriously considering that we don't do or say anything are you?" He stood up. "How many of you sitting right here were killed by the empire? How many of you were carried in my rucksack for a CENTURY?" Gord roared. The group assembled shrank back. "You all were rebuilt by me and Spyglass. What will the Empire do if they think we had ANYTHING to do with this?"
The silence in the room clanged.
"No. We're going to come out hard. We're going to make an announcement, and we're going to link Home to Sol."
Gasps and murmurs filled the room.
"Gord, are you sure?" Chloe looked up from her pad, worried.
"We must. We have to show the Empire that not only did we not use relativistic impactors, but that we're so horrified at their use that we will come out of hiding to aid the survivors." He looked at the group across the table. "Tell everyone. We're linking Home to Sol in 12 hours." Gord stood up and walked out, Chloe jumping up to chase after him.
They walked for a bit. Home was huge, and sparsely populated. They only had to take a few turns before they were deep in the old, original part of the colony ship. Gord touched a lock and it opened, old relays clicking loudly overhead as the lights came up. It was a running track, 5 lanes wide that seemed to girdle Home. Chloe looked around. "What's this, Gord?"
Gord smiled thinly. "It's part of the gym that was set up for colonists. I like to come here and walk laps when I need a quiet place to think... or a quiet place to talk." He started walking at a deliberate pace on the track. Chloe shrugged to herself and walked alongside him.
Halfway through a lap Gord said "Have we heard from Northern Lights since she and Zherun left?"
Chloe glances down at her pad. "No. Nothing."
"She was at the New Wellington attack." It was not a question.
"Was she?" Chloe looked surprised. "I didn't know she was that old."
Gord nodded."She was. She worked for Parvati then."
"She worked for them? I thought she was just that prototype starliner?"
"Oh sure, that's what everyone says she was. I'm sure she has some very nice cabins too, so that any inspectors who come aboard can see how nicely she's fitted out."
"Gord, you're telling me Northern Lights - Zhe and Fen's friend, who has been on the run from the Empire for more than a Century was a warship?"
"A prototype, purpose built warship. Designed to have the advantages of a Starjumper without the gigantic size."
"Then why did you let her take the ship? We had it here in our holds for decades!"
Gord shrugged. "I dunno. I suppose I thought she had changed. I thought that Fen and Zhe were good for her. Bringing her back to being around people, not always alone, not always on the run." Gord stared straight ahead, not looking at Chloe. "This attack has her written all over it though. She was against the impactor ban. She almost got tried for warcrimes after the destruction of New Wellington."
Chloe clutched the pad to her chest. She wasn't as old as Gord, but she was old enough to remember the war, and the destruction of New Wellington. Hell, she had linked there as soon as word had reached Sol and went to help survivors. It was her second wormhole link ever. In eight hundred years she had never forgotten what she had seen. "I'm going to kill her."
"I'd prefer you didn't, Chloe." Gord smiled sadly. "I'd prefer if you found out if she did carry out the attack, and bring her Home - intact - if she was the one who did it." He sighed again. "Though, I'd bet a gallon of maple syrup she did." Gord stopped right in front of the door to the track. "Take a ship, but go alone. Find her, and bring her home."
"And the K'laxi? Zherun?"
They walked together in silence for a few steps. "I don't care about her. Use your best judgement. But-" Gord held up a finger. "-Northern cannot carry out another attack. Be swift."
Chloe nodded and opened the door. "Coming Gord?"
"No, I'm going to walk a bit more, and then plan for what the hell I'm going to say to the Empire when we link an old lost colony ship into Sol and declare our intentions to help."
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Woah, how crazy, using my 1337 Haxor Skillz, I found another episode of Khonjin House not uploaded to khonjin's youtube, wooaaaaahhh--
In all seriousness, this project a.) took way longer than I wanted it to, and b.) was a great way to practice my skills as an editor. Massive thanks to @fennecfics-the-simp-king for telling me this plot, which was funnily enough a dream. All voices done by me, save for the Furry, which was also done by Fen!
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winters-tales · 2 years
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I posted 510 times in 2022
That's 323 more posts than 2021!
108 posts created (21%)
402 posts reblogged (79%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@wildswrites
@owlbear33
@coffeewritesfiction
@inneskeeper
@autumnimagining
I tagged 405 of my posts in 2022
Only 21% of my posts had no tags
#fen reblogs - 281 posts
#writeblr - 64 posts
#writing - 51 posts
#fen writes stuff - 36 posts
#creative writing - 24 posts
#oathsworn: the nameless - 21 posts
#streaming - 19 posts
#nanowrimo 2022 - 18 posts
#fen's originals - 14 posts
#fen is a streamer now - 12 posts
Longest Tag: 130 characters
#obviously the absolute best thing to do is befriend people from all walks of life because then your life is made richer anyway but
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
Let's talk ✨🌍WORDBUILDING🌍✨
No, really - it's something I really struggle with a lot. I'm best at writing about actions that happen within a world, so my short stories tend to be sparse on worldbuilding details, allowing the audience to fill in any gaps they want to.
I'm getting the hang of worldbuilding, but then I run into another problem which is: how do I give this information to my readers? I'm a big fan of seeding things in as I go but if get excited about a detail then I get a bit heavy on the exposition, which can be boring.
So how else can I offer background lore, without writing a massive wall of text that leaves my reader's eyes involuntarily skipping over paragraphs looking for the good bit?
In-world newspaper articles.
Oathsworn: The Nameless is urban fantasy, so newspapers are absolutely a thing. It also has the extra step in difficulty of covering a long period of time - nearly 400 years - so rather than painstakingly recount history, I'm going to write newspaper articles that cover the important, story-relevant bits of history.
For example, a list of topics for articles across the centuries could be:
- cancer rates are going up [related to the use of nukes in the war] - finding ways to 'clean' radioactive sites - holy shit so many people are unaccounted for you guys [it was a hundred-year war involving supernatural beings so lots of MIA] - instances of Touched [people who have traits from being in close contact with Fae] on the rise/on the decline/how do we feel about it - this one may be more of a magazine piece, a sensation piece - we've had a breakthrough in radiation cleanup - cancer rates are going down
So of these topics, which do you want me to write first?
33 notes - Posted October 16, 2022
#4
Writing Advice
Befriend Scientists
No, really. if you don't have Actual Scientists (tm) in your friend group you should go out and find some because I had the time of my LIFE this evening while aksing for help with a couple of points in the worldbuilding of my novel:
Me: "Microbiologist Friend, I found this thing that said e-coli can be used to clean up radioactive contamination, is that legit?? It doesn't expand or offer sources."
MB Friend: "Here are several other sources that seem to back this up, a couple of them list different bacterium but that just gives you more to work with. Also, be aware of these specific limitations when working with bacteria."
Me: "Incredible, thank you!"
-
Me: "@heavymetalscientist nuclear power plants gone wrong vs nuclear warheads: what's the difference in after-effects? Also could there theoretically be radioactive fire?"
@heavymetalscientist: "Fascinating! Not only will I answer this with sources but I'll also solve a plot hole you didn't know you had using a video of a guy picking up a cube of material heated to 2,200 degrees celsius with his bare hands. You can have a video of Cherenkov radiation as a bonus."
Me: "... do you all just have this stuff in your back pockets ready to go for the right absolutely batshit question?"
-
Seriously, befriend a scientist or three, ask them a hypothetical, and then just sit back and enjoy the information dump.
Alternatively: befriend scientists, then sit down and watch a film that uses CRISPR as the plot point (like RAMPAGE). Just as entertaining for very different reasons!
36 notes - Posted October 16, 2022
#3
Sleep Deprivation
Death by one thousand cuts A thousand-billion starving synapses Falling to a torture only Halfway self-inflicted
Don't trust your self-image in the dark Starvation makes anything look appetising Self-esteem becomes Manna from heaven In the darkness of 2 am Where every criticism bites back
Remember the experiment you read about? Think about how tired you'd need to be To bite your fingers clean off - Your jaws can already do it How tired do you have to be before you brain forgets To stop them
If only you could see the carcass Chunks torn from my Self worth Self view [Selfish] It's 2.37 am and I'm no longer sure
My world is a Moebius Strip Self-fullfilling ouroboros Dying brain cells circle back on themselves Looking for every last scrap of Serotonin Dopamine Contentedness [please gods let me be content enough to sleep]
It's too hot My back hurts My brain races on Not realising it's the greyhound Destined forever to chase a mechanised
Lie
~~~~
If you enjoyed this work, please consider leaving me a tip through tumblr or one of my other platforms!
Ko-Fi Patreon
67 notes - Posted July 13, 2022
#2
Love is in the Apples
There’s something about apples and love The fruit of knowledge Depicted in all it’s crisp Mouth-watering glory Eve saying here, are you hungry, too? Adam takes it, and he means I love you Did the bite they shared together help them truly know The depths that love can reach?
We’d help to pick the apples Bending to retrieve the ones that hit the ground And that was love as well: Your 60-year old knees and back and hips can’t bend like my 8 year old skeleton can Let me get that for you I love you I’m light enough to reach the tops of the trees Hold the bucket, I’ll get the best ones I love you
Later in the kitchen we’d tuck ourselves into a corner And tuck into an apple half the size of our heads Bitter and tart juices running down our faces Thank you for your help; I love you We’d have apples for weeks: Apple pies Apple cakes Apple biscuits Apple crumbles Give the apples to the local priest and get Homemade tablet in return I thought you’d like these, Father Little loves
I think of Snow White Baking an apple pie for seven strangers A gift of gratitude Seven times I thought you might like this Seven times I hope you like it Seven times I love you
You return triumphant Bucket overflowing with your bounty Crisp, green, bitter, and tart Fruits that seem much smaller now I’m grown My hands cramp from the motion of rubbing the butter and flour You get ready to drop the apples and come to my aid if I ask I’m okay, I say I know, you say Soon the kitchen smells like love Apples and cinnamon and sweet buttery pastry The triumphant fruits of our labour
It’s wonky It’s tart The lid has come away from the base But nothing has ever tasted as sweet
Like an apple that has fallen, I briefly pick up A faith long since abandoned And I thank Eve for sowing the seeds Of love, in apple trees
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If you enjoyed this poem, please consider leaving me a tip on my Ko-Fi
~~~
160 notes - Posted September 18, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
Reblog Me Please
You like this? I'm glad you like this. You are picking it up, and putting it in your pocket. It's for you to find later before you put your trousers in the wash, it'll be nestled in there with your loose change and half-formed thoughts, and maybe you'll read it again and enjoy it but it'll be just you who re-reads it.
Reblog me please; put me in your pocket and find that I am split, endless copies to pin to the lampposts on your street, a reverse missing poster campaign. Have you seen this? I have. I'd like you to see it. Maybe you'll like it. Lots of reblogs means lots of lampposts, lots of streets, lots of hey, look at this.
Pandemic isolation hits, reblogs become lifelines, not just sharing art but sharing thought, sharing emotion, sharing soul. I'm here. I know you're there, too. We see you. Hang in there, hold on, keep going. I love you. We share because we love, and we love because we share.
Reblog me please; I just want to be seen and shared and heard and felt. A hundred hundred lampposts, a thousand thousand connections, a million million souls.
Have you seen me? I see you.
I love you.
242 notes - Posted October 9, 2022
Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →
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Alright, let’s introduce some of the big players, people who really did do a lot of stuff! There are many places to start, but just for fun I’ll start with Dr. Liadina Rainer. Long time healer and necromancer, Dina now heads the Valkeen research hospital, after being laid off her former job at Daospola General because people were uncomfortable with her being a necromancer. People really suck sometimes.
——
“Okay so, here’s how this is gonna go.” Dina put her hands on her hips and glared at the blackberry bush. “We’re gonna get you trimmed back, and you’re gonna stop attacking the rest of the garden.”
The plant hissed in response.
She held up the clippers and tried to sever a branch that had leaned into the side of the house. The plant wrapped around her arm in response. She used her magic to heal the small scratches as they appeared, and started clipping at the vines. The purple energy swirled, leaving no trace of the blood or the scrapes.
“Come on, work with me here!” She tried to pull her arm out of the brambles, to no effect. She heard the glass does open and looked to see Jason stepping out onto the plaza.
“Dina, you know your sister and I accept whatever relationships you wish to have, but do you have to do it in view of the living room and kitchen?” He gestured through the windows.
She used her free hand to make a vulgar sign at her brother, pulling to try and wrench her other hand free.
“Okay but seriously do you need help?” He switched to being concerned, dropping the joke.
“I was the only necromancer on staff in the emergency room of Daospola general during the first two seasons of the apocalypse. I can handle a dumb plant!” She finally freed her hand, only to be trapped around her ankle.
“Well, I’ll leave you too it then. There’s noodles if you get tired.” He awkwardly left the gardens, casting concerned glances.
Dina continued to cut at the vines, occasionally making some progress. Carefully, she conjured some crystal sheets, attempting to enclose the plant in a terrarium of sorts.
Finally she managed to trap the vines inside the crystal, and she quickly dug her magic under the roots. The crystal wouldn’t stay conjured for long, but it was enough for her to get the plant into a more permanent enclosure.
“Aunt Dina, is everything alright?” Fen peeked their head through the door, looking at the thrashing plant in its crystal confines.
“Yeah, perfectly under control. Just gotta move this massive piece of crystal over to the garage, and get it inside a better containment”
“Need help? I can help with telekenitics..”
“No, no. I got it.” She reached out with purple swirls and lifted the plant, straining to keep her magic up. The crystal started slipping through her hold, and Fen sent out their green energy to help keep it stable.
“Thanks.” Dina let go of her magic, and watched as Fen smoothly held the crystal aloft. They were always really good at telekinesis, even with bigger things, a somewhat uncommon skill.
“Yeah, I’ll always take an opportunity to show off my brawn.” They flexed their arms, almost dropping their focus.
The process of moving the crystal down to the garage took longer than expected. At first they tried to take it around to the front, but quickly realized that the cliff side exit would be easier to get to. They slowly moved the crystal over the long drop to the ocean, and lowered it to the garage exit. Almost dropping it a couple times, they finally maneuvered it to the extended platform. Dina had gone around to manage things from inside, and used her magic to repair a fracture in the crystal, caused by the plant’s incessant thrashing.
“What do you even do with a plant that wants to murder people?”
Fen jumped at Solaris’s voice.
“Weed wacker? Therapist?” He laughed, feet lifting off the ground as he drifted a few inches into the air. Fen smiled, more at his laughter than the joke itself. Then their eyes widened, remembering something.
“Wait that might not be such a bad idea.” Fen rushed inside to find the spell book they needed.
“Oh- well okay then..” Sol shrugged and drifted down to the garage platform. “How’re things over here?”
“We’re just about done, you’ll have Fen back as soon as I get this plant into that chamber.” She pointed at a suspiciously person sized glass pod, greenish glass allowing a view of a smooth interior.
“They went to get something I think. They had an idea.”
“Oh no.”
They waited in silence for a moment, both amused and expectant for whatever scheme Fen had come up with.
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sassyhobbits · 4 years
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everything i wanted (ONS oneshot)
here it is! the promised celebratory One Night Standards oneshot! I hope you all enjoy this. I know I had a fun time writing it! thank you all for the love and support for this story, also with your patience since i havent been able to get out as much writing as i would like like recently! <3
masterlist
~~~
Aelin Ashryver Whitethorn Galathynius had never known that joy could come in the form of a person until she welcomed her daughter into the world.
Eliora was a new bright light in both Aelin and Rowan’s life, who brought them new levels of happiness with each passing day. Aelin couldn’t have been more blessed with her daughter. Eliora was a jubilant child, with wide, curious eyes that matched her mother’s and a sweet, gummy smile she flashed from time to time that made both of her parents positively melt.
Most importantly, Eliora was healthy. Although Aelin’s pregnancy had been rather easy, the birth was less so. It was something Aelin had prepared herself for, knowing her own mother had a difficult time giving birth as well. So, when Eliora was born perfectly healthy and Aelin healed from the tumultuous birthing process, both she and Rowan knew that some of the gods had been looking out for them.
That had been four months ago. Four months of raising their daughter, of getting used to being parents, no matter how exhausting it could be. Aelin wouldn’t change it for the world.
Aelin smiled down at her daughter as she wiggled on the bed below her, sticking a tiny fist into her mouth. She was getting her changed into a pale-blue dress that Lysandra had found and insisted it would look wonderful on Eliora. Aelin wasn’t even surprised that her friend had taken to styling her baby as well as the princess.
“Don’t you look so beautiful?” Aelin cooed, pinching Eliora’s little feet, making her flash a wide, toothless smile. Aelin laughed before grabbing a bow that matched her daughter’s dress, slipping in over her silvery-blonde hair that was getting thicker by the day. She looked positively adorable, perfect for the day.
The day of Lorcan and Elide’s wedding.
Aelin was so incredibly happy for Elide, that she had found love. Although Aelin and Lorcan had gotten off to a bit of a rocky start, once Aelin realized how much he truly cared for Elide, things had gotten easier between them.
And now they would be married.
Aelin had already prepared herself for the day, wearing a silky, pale-pink midi-dress that Lysandra had sent her way and a pair of sensible, strappy heels. She didn’t bother to do much with her hair, knowing the Eliora often managed to grab handfuls of it whenever it was in reach. Any efforts would have been quickly undone.
“Are you two nearly ready?” Rowan called from the conjoining sitting room, a good-natured sort of exasperation in his tone.
“Having a hot wife takes time, Rowan,” Aelin hollered back. “I wouldn’t be complaining if I was you.”
Although she couldn’t see him, Aelin could picture him scoffing out a tiny laugh and shaking his head. He wouldn’t want to be amused, but he would be anyway.
She heard footfalls coming her way, and soon enough Rowan walked through the threshold. Instantly, a bright smile lit his face, as it always did when he saw the two of them together.
“You look beautiful, Fireheart,” he said, coming to her side and pressing a quick kiss to her temple, a broad hand resting on the dip of her waist. He looked down at Eliora, and his face softened even further. “You both look beautiful.”
“I can’t get over how perfect she is,” Aelin commented, squeezing her daughter’s chubby thighs. “Every day, it just blows me away.”
“Me too.”
They stood there for a few moments, gazing down at their daughter as she looked wide-eyed up at the two of them. Aelin felt as though she could watch her for hours. But, she didn’t have the time for that today.
“I suppose we should get going,” Rowan sighed. “I think it would be bad form if we were late.”
“I suppose you’re right.”
Rowan leaned down and scooped Eliora into his arms. Aelin always loved the sight of her massive husband holding their tiny daughter. The first time he had held her, she had promptly broken into tears. Even now, seeing her family, always had her on the verge of crying once again.
But, she controlled herself. She didn’t want to ruin her makeup before the wedding.
The ceremony was being held at the palace out in the gardens. It was a perfect day for an outdoor wedding. The mid-spring air was warm and pleasant, the sky a brilliant blue with a few fat clouds floating across lethargically. The air smelled heavily of the sweet flowers blooming from every corner of the palace’s expansive gardens.
The wedding wasn’t a huge affair, kept mostly to friends and family. There were a few rows of white seats lined up before the altar that was situated beneath an arc of white roses. Some of the seats were already filled up. Aelin said hello to Elide’s parents. Her mother, Marion, apparently hadn’t been able to stop crying all day. Elide’s father, Cal, had been doing his best to console her throughout the morning, though Aelin could tell he was getting a little misty-eyed as well.
She and Rowan went towards their seats near the front, finding some of their companions already there. Lysandra’s face lit up in a comically large grin once she laid eyes on Eliora in Rowan’s arms, immediately standing and reaching out to take her. Lysandra’s own baby bump was just beginning to show, nothing more than a tiny swell under her green dress. Lysandra and Aedion had taken to commandeering Eliora from time to time, saying they wanted to give Rowan and Aelin some alone time. Aelin knew her cousin and his wife honestly just wanted some extra practice with babies before their own came.
“How are you, sweet girl?” Lysandra cooed, taking Eliora from Rowan and bouncing her on her hip. “Don’t you look so beautiful in the dress Auntie Lys got you?”
“She is the cutest baby in the world, isn’t she?” Aelin agreed, leaning into Rowan’s side.
“For now, at least.” Aedion shrugged before kissing the top of Eliora’s silver head and placing a hand on Lysandra’s stomach.  “At least until my kid gets her.”
Aelin gaped at her cousin. “Shut your traitorous mouth!”
Fenrys then arrived, clapping Rowan’s shoulder in greeting. He looked as if he were about to strike up a conversation before he laid eyes on Eliora being bounced in Lysandra’s arms. His attention was then instantly diverted. Aelin’s daughter was always quite popular when she was in a crowd.
Rowan’s arm wrapped around her shoulders, tucking her into his side. Aelin’s heart was full as she watched her friends and her daughters, took in their laughs and their smiles. What a wonderful family she had amassed in these years.
“What are you thinking about, Fireheart?” Rowan murmured.
“Just… how lucky we are to have all of this. How much I love them all… and love you.”
He smiled before leaning down and pressing a long, lingering kiss to her lips, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I love you too.”
Aelin would have liked to linger in the moment a bit longer, but they were interrupted by Fenrys’ obnoxiously loud laughter. He had managed to steal Eliora from Lysandra and slip his sunglasses on to her tiny face.
“Check out how cool she looks!” Fenrys announced with a bright laugh.
“Oh, no,” Aelin muttered, shaking her head. She quickly strode towards Fenrys, taking the sunglasses off of Eliora’s head and shoving them back over the lord’s eyes. “Get those tacky things off my daughter’s perfect face!” The princess took Eliora back firmly into her arms, the toddler releasing a stream of nonsense baby-babble, to which Aelin nodded seriously. “You’re right, sweet girl. Those frames are so last season.”
Fenrys gawked in offence, head swiveling towards those around them. “They are not last season! Rowan, tell her they’re not last season!”
Rowan didn’t even bother to respond, looking towards his friend dryly. Once Fenrys realized he wouldn’t be getting any support from the prince, he looked towards Lysandra and Aedion for backup. But, Lysandra could only shrug apologetically.
“Sorry, Fen. They are last season.”
Fenrys continued to sputter in protest while everyone else began to drift to their seats, the beginning of the ceremony nearing.
Aelin took a seat between Rowan and Lysandra, holding Eliora, who was taking in the sights around her, on her lap. The band settled into their position, taking their instruments from their cases. Aelin was more than excited to see Elide. She and Lysandra had helped her pick out her gown, but the effect of seeing her now, with her hair and make-up and veil, was sure to make Aelin cry.
“I can’t believe they’re getting married,” Aelin remarked.
Lysandra snorted softly. “I can’t believe Lorcan is taking Elide’s last name.”
“Hm… Lord Lorcan Lochan. It had a nice ring to it, right?”
They giggled amongst themselves, but their laughter faded once a towering figure appeared on the altar, followed by a heavily robed priestess. Aelin had to admit that Lorcan Salvaterre cleaned up well. His tux was cut to him perfectly, long, black hair shining as it fell down his back. The most striking difference was the lack of the scowl on his face.
“Did I look this nervous on our wedding day?” Rowan murmured into Aelin’s ear.
“Which one?” she asked absentmindedly, straightening the bow on Eliora’s head. “Our first one, worse. I could have sworn you were about to piss yourself.”
“And whose fault was that?”
“Your meddling cousins that didn’t give me time to respond after you decided to confess your love out of the blue on the night before the wedding.”
“Whatever you say, love.”
Eventually, Eliora appeared to grow tired of the view from Aelin’s lap, reaching out towards Rowan. Aelin handed her daughter to Rowan, who was very content to be held up against his chest. She was a true daddy’s girl and had Rowan wrapped around her little finger.
A few more minutes passed before a hush fell over the crowd and the musicians began to play. It was a serene, lilting song, and old Terrasenian lullaby. Aelin’s mother had sung it to her in her youth and now she sang it to her own daughter.
The crowd rose to their feet, looking down the aisle. Aelin already had a too-wide grin on her face, throat clogged up with tears she was trying to keep at bay. Rowan, ever the observant one, noticed and shifted Eliora into his left arm, freeing his other hand to hold Aelin’s tightly. She dared a glance at the altar, finding a surprising amount of emotion displayed on Lorcan’s face. He looked so, so happy, and so very in love. Aelin couldn’t imagine a better person for Elide. She knew Lorcan would love her until his last breath, would use every day in his life to make sure that Elide was happy and content.
Aelin looked back down the aisle just in time to catch the first glimpse of Elide.
She was a breathtaking bride. Elide wore a stunning gown with flowing, gossamer skirts and a bodice covered in delicate, lace flowers. The sleeves were long and gauzy, drooping from her pale shoulders and swaying in the spring breeze. Her hair was twisted up in an elegant coronet, white flowers tangled within her dark locks. Her veil drifted behind her, trailing her by a few feet. The tears sprung from Aelin’s eyes not long after that.
Elide's dark eyes, gleaming with unshed tears, were pinned on Lorcan. Aelin knew the grin she wore was solely for the man waiting for her at the altar.
Elide stepped closer to where Rowan and Aelin stood. The bride took her attention off her future husband for one moment to look towards her princess. Aelin only beamed through her tears, mouthing I love you.
Elide mouthed it back before her gaze caught on Eliora is Rowan’s arms, sending the baby a wide smile. Eliora took a break from sticking her tiny fist in her mouth to send a little smile of her own back.
Elide looked back down the aisle, back towards Lorcan and her future, and she did not falter.
The crowd all lowered themselves into their seats as Elide came to a stop before Lorcan.
Aelin rested her head against Rowan’s shoulder as the priestess began to speak, uttering ancient words that had been tying people together in Terrasen for centuries. She simply couldn’t get over how happy, how deeply in love, Lorcan and Elide were. Aelin was fairly certain the two were barely listening to the priestess, too absorbed in one another to be bothered with the rest of the world at the moment.
The time came for them to read their vows. They reached out, taking one another’s hands firmly. Elide went first. Even from where Aelin sat, she could see her friend swallow hard, no doubt trying to stop herself from crying.
“Lorcan,” Elide began, voice a bit wobbly with emotion. “I’ve never known how happy I could be until I met you. Everyday, you manage to show me new levels of bliss. Marrying you is a blessing I once hadn’t even known I needed. Now, I know I wouldn’t give you up, what we have, for the world. I love you with everything I am, Lorcan Salvaterre.”
Aelin swiped at the tears dribbling down her cheeks, Rowan wrapping his arm over her shoulder and tugging her closer to his body.
It seemed Lorcan needed a few moments to compose himself after Elide’s speech, chin tucked to his chest. He sucked down one more deep breath before facing the woman before him once more, dark brown eyes glimmering.
“Elide Lochan, you’re the love of my life,” he began. Aelin could tell how hard he was working to control his voice. “I truly don’t know what I did to deserve you. You are the brightest light in my life, the most wonderful thing to ever happen to me. I thank whatever god took pity on my miserable ass and let me walk into your life. I promise to do everything in my power to make you the happiest woman on the planet, to love and cherish you for the rest of my life. You… gods, I love you so much Elide.”
Aelin’s heart melted as she listened to Lorcan’s vows, eyes flickering up to Rowan. Even her normally stoic husband had misty eyes.
The priestess looked back and forth from Elide to Lorcan, a serene smile on her wrinkled face. She finished the ceremony, speaking the same words that had bound Rowan and Aelin three years ago.
“I’m honored to announce,” the priestess said grandly, “that under the eyes of the gods and of Terrasen, this man and woman are now wed!”
With that, Lorcan took Elide’s face into his hands and kissed her soundly. The cheers and applause erupted from the crowd, everyone rising to their feet once more for the newly-weds. Lorcan seemed reluctant to stop kissing his new wife, but he eventually pulled back and they faced their audience.
Aelin couldn’t be more excited to see where life would take the both of them.
The celebration following was still held in the gardens, no one wanting to put such a beautiful day to waste. They ate and drank and were happy, celebrating all the love that was in everyones’ lives.
As the day wore on, some people left, leaving only the closest of Aelin’s friends and family behind. They were scattered around a few tables, finishing off drinks and snacks as the sun began to set below the horizon.
Aelin was enjoying some girl time, finally finding some time alone with Elide and Lysandra. The boys were all sitting around together, drinking beers and entertaining Eliora.
Lysandra leaned back in her seat, absent-mindedly stroking the swell of her stomach. “I can’t believe we’re all married now.”
“All of us except for Fenrys,” Elide pointed out.
Aelin shrugged. “He’ll be hitched soon enough. He and Ress have been dating for like, four months now. They really like each other.” It was true. Everyone could tell they were already ridiculously in love with one another. Aelin was ecstatic to see two of her friends so happy with one another. They were so cute it was sickening. “I can’t believe we’re going to have another baby around here soon!”
Lysandra hummed and looked fondly at the little life growing inside of her. “It’s going to be hectic, but I’m so excited. I don’t know what all these boys are going to do with two babies to spoil.”
As one, all three of them looked towards where the boys were. Eliora has been passed from Aedion to Lorcan. He held the babe at his eye level, his normally grumpiness nowhere in sight, even as Eliora dragged her sticky hands down his face. He could only smile.
“Oh, gods,” Elide squeaked, face quickly screwing up as she began to cry.
“Elide, honey, what is it?” Lysandra asked, placing a hand on Elide’s thigh. “I know it’s so cute to see the boys with babies, and I certainly cried the first time Aedion held Eliora, but you’ve seen her and Lorcan together plenty of times and have never cried.”
“Oh, it’s just these damned hormones,” Elide sighed.
Aelin blinked, looking at her friend quizzically. She slowly raised a brow. “Hormones?”
Elide’s eyes flickered back and forth between Aelin and Lysandra, nibbling at her bottom lip for a few moments before she conceded. “I’m pregnant.”
“You’re what?!”
“Sh!” Elide hissed, casting a quick glance towards the boys, but none of them had noted the outburst. “I haven’t told anyone yet.”
“How long have you known?”
Elide smiled sheepishly. “Two days.”
“Oh, Ellie, you couldn’t have waited until today to find out?” Aelin asked melodramatically. “Now this was a shotgun wedding!”
The girls burst out in laughter, Elide’s wiping away the tears that had escaped from her eyes. She looked towards Lorcan once more.
“I just don’t know how to tell him!”
“There is no how,” Lysandra said. “Just tell him! Gods, go right now!”
“Really?”
“Yes!” cried Aelin and Lysandra in unison, making Elide laugh some more.
Elide sucked down a deep breath, but on a brave face, and pushed to her feet, eyes locked on her new husband. She gave a firm nod. “Alright. I’m going to tell him.”
Aelin and Lysandra clapped and cheered quietly as Elide strode purposefully over to Lorcan. She placed a soft hand on her husband's arm, muttering something to him that Aelin couldn’t hear from where she was sitting. Lorcan nodded, handing Eliora back over to Rowan, whose head immediately whipped towards Aelin as if to say, What did you two do?
Aelin only held her hands up in defense. Not my fault.
Aelin and Lysandra waited until Elide and led Lorcan a respectful distance away before making their way over to their husbands. They looked towards them in question.
“What’s happening?” Aedion asked.
“Elide’s telling Lorcan she's pregnant.”
“Elide’s pregnant?!” Fenrys gasped. “Shotgun wedding!”
"That's what I said!"
"Shh! You're being too loud!"
They quieted down, watching as Elide and Lorcan conversed. They saw Elide take Lorcan’s hand, giving it a tight squeeze before she rested it over the bodice of her gown, on her stomach. Lorcan blinked once, and Aelin saw him mouth, Pregnant? To which Elide nodded.
Lorcan beamed, sweeping Elide up in his arms and twirling her around. Everyone heard her bright laughter and she threw her arms over Lorcan’s shoulders and kissed him deeply.
Aelin joined with their other friends in clapping and cheering for the couple once again. Lorcan eventually put Elide back down on her feet, the pair looking towards the crowd with too-wide grins on their faces. Instantly, some of them headed over towards where the newlyweds stood to congratulate them properly, but Aelin hung back with Rowan.
“Three babies in the palace at once…” Rowan breathed heavily. “We’ll certainly never be bored.”
“Certainly not,” Aelin agreed, looking at Eliora in her husband’s arms, who released a mighty yawn. It seemed the day had thoroughly worn her out. Aelin stood on her toes, pressing a kiss to Rowan’s lips before doing the same to Eliora’s forehead. Her daughter looked to her with wide, sleepy eyes. “You're going to have so many new friends soon!”
Aelin looked over to her companions, watching as they all laughed and smiled and embraced. There was a warm fondness in her heart as she took in the sight.
Aelin took Eliora into her own arms, holding her against her chest. She kissed her daughter’s cheek again, simply because she could, before smiling. “You’re going to have such a wonderful family, too.”
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Faking It Ch 3
A/N: I don't remember Aedion’s mom every being explicitly named in the series so I just kinda made up a name. I picture her as being the young cool aunt so that’s just my portrayal, not canon lmao. 
Also I'm going to reveal what happened between them in the next few chapters so send me some theories in my asks!!!
Despite Aelin's attempts to forget about Rowan, the day continued to drag on slowly. First science class, where somehow her brain managed to relate molecular compounds to Rowan's face. Then lunch, when luckily Aedion had managed to distract her with donuts for the short fifty minutes. Now she was back in the last period of the day, left to brew in her own apprehension as the on-screen lecture lapsed by and turned into silent reading. 
Rowan had agreed to drive them both to her house after school, saving Aelin from walking back in the crisp autumn weather. She’d put more energy into her appearance today than she’d like to admit. If Aelin had one thing she love about herself, it would be her style. Today she was wearing a slightly too short wrap skirt and a loose satin black button up which she tucked one side into the skirt. She had chosen to wear her platform Doc Martens, naively assuming she could handle the ankle pain. Her hair was done up in a tight bun and she pulled back her short layers from her face with gold pins. Aelin fiddled with her hoop earrings as she watched the second hand move around the clock. 
“You’ll be fine.” Lysandra whispered, her head still staring down at the book they were supposed to be silently reading. 
Aelin scooted her chair a little closer to her friend, careful not to make a squeaking noise against the marble tile. “But what if I'm not?” 
Lys didn't look up but Aelin couldn't tell she was no longer actually reading. “Then call me and we’ll get white girl wasted and watch pride and prejudice for the hundredth time.” 
Aelin laughed under her breath, images of Mr. Darcy’s hand flex flashing though her mind. “Can you blame me? I’m a sucker for enemies to lovers.” 
Lysandra shot he a conniving look. “Maybe this is your chance to experience your own enemies to lovers?” 
Aelin scoffed a little too loudly and someone behind them glared. “It would be more like friends who slept together to lovers to enemies to awkwardly fake dating to lovers.” 
Lysandra stifled her laugh and went back to reading. Aelin was glad that she had someone to talk to about whatever the fuck she and Rowan were about to do. Saying she hadn't thought several times about putting the breaks on this whole thing would just be a futile lie. Rowan resented her, he’d made that much clear over their very brief and clipped conversations. A part of Aelin was holding onto a hope that today they’d be able to work some shit out at least. If not, she was in for an incredibly uncomfortable few months. If they even lasted that long. 
Unable to focus, Aelin began doodling on the front of her binder. She was about to run out of space when the bell signalling the end of school rang at last. Aelin swung her bag onto her shoulder and grabbed Lys’ hand, pulling them both out of the classroom. 
“Holy fuck you are so pale.” Lysandra exclaimed. 
Aelin released her and offered a small apologetic smile. “I feel like I might throw up.” There was a moment of awkward silence before Aelin spoke again. “Will you walk to his car with me?” 
Lysandra grinned at her. “Duh! What are best friends for?” 
Normally Aelin would've hugged her but she was too focused on not emptying the contents of her stomach on the school floor. Lysandra was going on about something trivial in her attempts to distract Aelin when she spotted him. 
He was leaning against his car talking to Lorcan and Fenrys. Or more, Fenrys was talking and the other two were listening. Aelin approached him carefully, Lys an ever steady presence on her left. 
“Hey.” She said softly. Fenrys’ talking ceased and all three massive males turned towards her. They all seemed to bear matching expressions; disdain. Despite Lorcan’s body language suggesting indifference, his eyes held a hatred Aelin had rarely seen before. 
She swallowed nervously and bumped Lysandra lightly. Lys, thank god, received the message and smiled widely. 
“I’m Lysandra.” She said, her voice filled with fake sweetness. 
“We know.” Lorcan grumbled at the same time that Fenrys said “Nice to meet you.” 
They both then shot each other matching looks and fell silent. “I’m fine guys.” Rowan said at last, his first time speaking thus far. He had yet to look straight at Aelin. “I’ll come over after.” 
They nodded reluctantly and walked away, Lorcan fighting back a laugh at something Fen said. 
Aelin pulled Lysandra into a long hug. “Call me if you need anything.” Lys whispered in her ear. Then they pulled away and her friend was gone, leaving Aelin and Rowan alone. 
“Hi.” She said again. 
He only nodded at her and walked around to the drivers seat of his car. She groaned internally, already dreading the next few hours.
The car ride to Aedion’s house, where Aelin had been living for two years, was deadly silent. It wasn't really awkward, just the type of tension that you were too scared to break in fear of a storm. 
When they finally pulled into the driveway, Aelin unbuckled her seatbelt and was halfway to the door before Rowan even got out. She unlocked the door with a spare key and walked into the house. Aedion and his mom, Althea, lived in a small semi a few miles from the high school. Upon Aelin’s parents sudden death, the spare room had been shifted into Aelin’s room and Althea had taken her in with a warm heart. 
“Althea I'm home.” She called out into the house. 
A voice came from the kitchen. “I made some sandwiches.” 
Despite herself, Aelin smiled at the prospect of food. Without turning around, she led Rowan through the small hallway and into the kitchen.
Her aunt was sitting at the island, munching on celery and dip when they walked in. Upon recognizing Rowan, she dropped her food, mouth agape. 
“Althea,” Aelin spoke through her teeth. “You remember Rowan. We’re going to study for a bit.” She silently begged her aunt not to question it. 
Ever so slowly, her aunt nodded. “Of course. It’s nice to see you again Rowan.” 
Aelin swiped the plate of sandwiches off of the table and handed them to Rowan. “Take these to my room. I’ll be up in a minute please.” 
He nodded and turned on his heels quickly, clearly desperate to get out of this room. Once Aelin was sure he was out of earshot, she turned back to the kitchen. 
“Oh my god.” Her aunt whisper shouted. “Is that the same Rowan who’s dick I walked in on you sucking.” 
Aelin cringed at the reminder. She selectively tried to forget about that very awkward encounter that had traumatized all involved parties for several weeks.
“Yes.” Was all Aelin could manage to say. 
“The same Rowan who’s heart you shattered on my front lawn while me and Aedion watched from the upstairs window.” 
Aelin began tapping her foot. “Still mad at you for that.” 
Her aunt wasn't deterred. “The same Rowan -” 
Aelin put up a hand to stop her. “From now on how about we just assume it’s all the same Rowan. It’s probably wise considering I only know one.” 
Althea let out a small laugh at that and shooed Aelin out of the kitchen. She walked up the stairs slowly, her steps unhurried on the wearing carpet. Upon arrival at her room, she found Rowan hovering over her desk. He was looking at the pictures she had framed, none of which included him. There had been a time, when nearly every single one those pictures had been him and Aelin together. In the heat of the moment, she’d smashed them all on the ground, glass shattering on her wood floor. She’d immediately regretted it, but the damage was done. Over the months since, she’d gradually replaced the photos with new ones. Her and Lysandra smiling from pool chairs. Her and Aedion drunk and laughing at something Aelin could no longer remember. There was one on the far left of her and Chaol at junior prom that Aelin had forgotten to remove. She looked beautiful that night, with a stunning pale blue dress that shimmered in the moonlight outside the venue. Chaol had looked handsome too, but he wasn't who Aelin had really wanted to be there with. 
It was that photo which Rowan was now staring at, his back to her. Leaning against the door frame, Aelin cleared her throat. Rowan whirled around, his face red as if he’d just been caught in the midst of something illegal. 
“I was just - uh...” He ran a hand through his silver hair in a way familiar to Aelin. 
“It’s fine.” She said, waving her hand dismissively. 
They both took up positions on opposite sides of the bed, Aelin at the head and Rowan at the foot. He crossed and uncrossed his legs a few times before deciding at last to lie on his stomach, legs hanging off her bed. 
“This is awkward.” He said, surprising Aelin enough that she fumbled with the sandwich in her hand before regaining control. 
“Yep.” She nodded, and took a bite to refrain from having to answer. 
He shook his head as if he wanted to say more and pulled out a notepad from his bag. “Let’s make rules and a contract.” 
Finished chewing, Aelin halted to gape at him. “Are you seriously going to make me sign a legally binding contract or some shit. Rules make everything less fun.” 
Rowan didn't meet her eye when he spoke again. “I’ve learned not to trust your word.” 
A blush crept over Aelin’s cheeks and she ignored the sudden pain in her chest. She opened her mouth to speak, to say what, she didn't know, when Rowan interrupted. 
“Besides, this isn't about fun. It’s a mutually benefitting deal.” His voice was dead serious but Aelin couldn't help but scoff. 
“You’ve always been good at making fun things sound like physics homework.” 
“And you’ve always been good at taking nothing seriously and thinking only of yourself.” He looked dead at her when he spoke, his features stone cold. 
Aelin froze up and placed her half eaten sandwich back on the plate. “You’re being mean.” 
A smirk crossed his lips, although she read no real amusement there. “My apologies, your highness.” 
“Fine.” Aelin said, turning away from him to blink back a few barely there tears. “Let’s make rules then.” 
-------------------------
Rowan was being a dick. He knew that. And yet somehow, every time he opened his mouth something mean and condescending came out. Clearly, he wasn't as over Aelin Galathynius as he’s convinced himself to be. Sitting on her bed after school, scrawling notes in a notebook and eating sandwiches brought back memories he’d honestly rather forget. Maybe it had been her Aunt’s reaction to seeing him, or the picture of Chaol on the dresser, but all Rowan knew was that somewhere between the threshold and here, he’d turned into a douchebag. 
Currently, Aelin was rummaging through her desk drawer for a pen. She returned a moment later and handed it to him, careful to avoiding their hands touching. 
“Fake Dating Contract”
Rowan scrawled a title messily at the top of the page, trying to ignore Aelin’s eyes on him. 
“So what’s number one?” He asked out loud. 
She tucked a few loose blond strands of hair behind her ear and bit her lip in the way she always did when she was thinking. Unable to watch the familiar motions anymore, Rowan turned back to his paper. 
“Tell no-one.” He suggested dryly. 
“I already told Lysandra,” she admitted guiltily, “and I’ll have to tell Aedion as well.” 
He had already been expecting that response. “That’s fine. I wanted to tell Lorcan and Fenrys anyway.” 
She nodded in his peripheral vision. “But no one else. If this gets out I'll be the laughing stock of the school.” 
“Of course princess. How dare I endanger your precious reputation? Need I remind you that this was your idea.” His tone was mocking, even as his brain scolded him for the cruel words. 
Aelin blanched and shot him a glare. “Don't act like you don't need this either. I’m getting you what you always wanted.” 
 “How are you even planning on doing that anyway?” 
She wouldn't lie to him about this. Would she?
Then it crossed his mind, he had no fucking clue what she would do. There had been a time when he thought he knew every thought that Aelin had. But then she’d broken his heart and altered his view on people forever. His distrust was both justified and entirely her fault. 
“You won't like it.” Aelin said softly. 
“I don't really care how you do it.” It was a lie. Despite his disdain for her, he didn't want her methods to be anything that put her in danger. 
They went silent for a moment before Rowan spoke again. “What are the limits?”
Aelin arched an eyebrow at him. “Limits.” 
“Yeah.” He sat up, suddenly feeling too uncomfortable to be lying down. “Like if we're going to make people believe it then we’re going to need some displays of public affection or whatever.” 
Rowan didn't even need to look to know Aelin was delighting in how red his face had gone. A wicked smile crossed her face, “Are you trying to seduce me Rowan Whitethorn?” 
He couldn't help the short laugh that escaped his lips. “Stop that,” he grumbled halfheartedly. Aelin had always been the best at making him blush. 
“We’ll kiss here and there, go to a few parties together, and hang out with each others friends a few times. It won't be too hard.” She shrugged as if they were just discussing the weather. 
“Alright.” If she wasn't going to act like this was a big deal, than neither was he. 
Half hour of back and forth conversation and a few snide comments later, the rules were complete. Rowan ripped out the looseleaf paper and held it up for Aelin to read. 
Fake Dating Contract
1. Tell two people each ... ONLY
2. No making out for longer than 30 seconds. 
3. No being rude or resentful to each other in public
4. Rowan must fake date Aelin for four months or until she says otherwise. 
5. Aelin must get Rowan a football tryout by week two
6. Rowan and Aelin’s friend groups have to sit together at lunch
7. ANY RULES BROKEN RESULT IN THE SAID RULE BREAKER BEING BURNED ALIVE. 
Rowan had added the second one, much to Aelin’s amusement. She had stolen the paper at the end to add the last one and sign her name at the bottom, handing it back to Rowan to do the same. 
Once both their signatures were at the bottom, he pocketed the paper and stood to leave. 
“You’re leaving?” Aelin blurted out, clearly uneasy. 
“Why would I stay?” He meant it to come out rude, but it sounded more like a plea for a reason to. 
Aelin hesitated for a moment before offering him a small smile and turning away. Sighing, Rowan quickly exited the room, tiptoeing down the stairs and out the door to avoid any awkward encounters. It was only when he got to his car that he realized just how badly he had wanted her to make him stay. 
--------
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bowsie22 · 3 years
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Pingxie Collection 1
Summary: Floral Note had some odd customers.
If you had told Xiao Hua ten years ago that he would be delaying a tomb raid due to a wedding he would have laughed. It’s not even his wedding for god’s sake! Pangzi shrugged, completely unapologetic.
“Sorry. But Hei Fen’s wedding is in three days and I promised her a red velvet cake.”
“And Xiaoge?”
Pangzi gestured to the flower shop section where the older man, sticking out slightly amongst the colours in his all black clothing, was concentrating on the bouquet in his hands.
“Xiao Hua, how dare you? Xiaoge is making the bride’s bouquet. You can’t ask him to stop now when he’s in the zone.”
Groaning, Xiao Hua allowed his upper body to slump onto the counter top. Feeling sorry for the younger man, Pangzi patted his shoulder, trying to offer some comfort.
“If you want the two of us, you know who to talk to.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
At eighteen, Wu Xie realised he didn’t want to be involved in his family businesses, any of them. He was too soft. And seemingly a bad luck charm, he didn’t want to imagine what would happen to him in those tombs. And after a few months of thinking, the young heir realised he wanted to open a flower shop. Or a café. Or both.
And so Floral Note was born. A flower shop/café combination, it became very popular very quickly.
Not that Wu Xie abandoned the family business entirely. He was, after all the heir to his grandfather’s notebook, an encyclopaedia of Chinese history and its tombs and their traps. Wu Xie wouldn’t keep all that knowledge to himself, not when he knew it could help his friends. So, the notebook was hidden in a secret safe, in a secret compartment, in a secret room behind the café’s freezer. Here, his uncles and friends would meet to arrange their tomb raids and look through the notebook.
It was also here that Wu Xie met Pangzi and Xiaoge, who quickly became integral parts of the small business. Pangzi, having tasted Wu Xie’s attempts at cookies, quickly took over the kitchen, declaring that he couldn’t let such an innocent sweetheart go bankrupt just because he didn’t know the different between baking soda and baking powder. Xiaoge was a surprise. He spent a few days in the corner of the shop, eyes following Wu Xie, slightly creeping the young man out. He stepped in to help when Wu Xie got overwhelmed with two weddings and seemed to have a natural talent for flower arranging (and if Wu Xie found small cut flowers in his pockets or behind his ear, he wasn’t going to tell Xiaoge to stop. Especially when the meanings of those flowers changed from thank you to I love you).
Which led to today. When not in tombs, Pangzi and Xiaoge could be found in the Floral Note. Pangzi’s creations received rave reviews and everyone loved Xiaoge’s work. Honestly, Wu Xie wasn’t sure that he’d be half as successful without them. But it did lead to some problems.
“Wu Xie, you don’t understand. This is a massive tomb and the Wangs have shown an interest. Like a big interest. They’re swarming it.”
“And you want to go in there? Are you insane?”
“We have to! Whatever they’re this interested in can only mean trouble for the Nine Families. Please. I will go to my knees.”
Wu Xie was too nice for his own good. Placing the buttonhole arrangement on the counter, he looked over his friends. Xiao Hua stood before him, Xiaoge and Pangzi behind him, all three looking slightly desperate. He knew that keeping Xiaoge and Pangzi away from tombs for too long was a bad idea. They got…tetchy. Wait, something was wrong with this picture. Wu Xie counted again. There were three men in front of him. Trying not to laugh, Wu Xie cleared his throat.
“Xiao Hua, where’s your shadow?”
From the kitchen, the group heard something fall to floor followed by hushed swearing. Wu Xie broke, laughing as Pangzi ran screaming towards the kitchen, Xiao Hua following him.
“HEI YANJING!! IF YOU’VE TOUCHED THOSE CUPCAKES, I SWEAR TO ALL THAT IS HOLY!!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Five minutes later, Heiye was deposited at one of the café’s tables, Xiao Hua tossing him some napkins to wipe away the icing around his mouth. Heiye finished his fourth cupcake, mourning the fact that he didn’t get a chance to taste test the cookies. Pangzi slammed a hand on the table.
“I never asked you to taste test anything! Hours of work gone. Tomorrow’s stock, gone. All because of your greedy, skinny ass!”
Wu Xie tugged Xiao Hua away from the table, trusting Xiaoge to stop any violence that might occur (possibly a bad idea. Xiaoge was just as likely to let Pangzi and Heiye fight just to see what would happen).
“On second thoughts, you can take them.”
“Seriously? Are you sure?”
Looking back at Pangzi, turning a dangerous shade of red as he shouted at Heiye, Wu Xie nodded.
“Yeah, I think Pangzi needs to blow some things up.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Pangzi always felt better after a tomb. Baking and flowers were all well and good, but sometimes a man needed to punch something in the face, or blast a hole through a wall. Looking at Xiaoge though, he was glad that they never spent too long away from Floral Note. It was almost like the longer Xiaoge was separated from Wu Xie, the quieter and more withdrawn he became. He pulled up behind the shop, quickly climbing out of the car. He had left enough stock for the week and very clear instructions on what to do if they ran out. But Wu Xie and kitchens did not mix well. He unlocked the door into the kitchen, freezing when Xiaoge gripped his shoulder, pulling him back into the alley.
“Xiaoge, what’s wrong?”
“I smell blood.”
Pangzi knew what to do. Xiaoge entering the kitchen as Pangzi went to the boot of the car, taking his gun from his bag, checking the bullets. Nodding to the older man, Pangzi followed Xiaoge through into the shop. They split apart, Xiaoge going to the flower shop, Pangzi looking around the café. The place was destroyed, tables, chairs and vases knocked over, water on the floor, flowers trampled. He tried to avoid looking at the blood streaks on the wall and floor. Pangzi wouldn’t say it out loud, but he was scared. Something had happened to Wu Xie and it was bad.
“Pangzi.”
The sound of Xiaoge’s voice scared him more. Pangzi had never heard him sound like that before. He sounded scared, a noticeable shake in his voice. Approaching Xiaoge, Pangzi realised that the older man was trembling, whether from anger or fear he wasn’t sure.
“What is it?”
Xiaoge threw something at his chest, Pangzi scrambling to catch it. Dog tags, silver with a red phoenix engraved on the back along with an ID number. He knew what that meant.
“Wangs. Did they get the notebook?”
“No, I checked when you were getting your gun. But they have Wu Xie. Who knows the book off by heart.”
Pangzi swore, knowing that didn’t mean anything good. But looking at Xiaoge, tears on his face, jaw set, Pangzi knew that Wu Xie wouldn’t be with the Wangs for very long.
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fantastic-bby · 4 years
Text
緣份
Pairing: (F)Reader x Mark | ft Jackson and Jinyoung |
Word count: 7k
Genre: Fluff | Angst (?) | Ex Lovers to Lovers | CEO AU | Non-Idol AU 
Summary: 緣份 (Yuan fen): The destiny written between people. Mark Tuan was your college boyfriend. Unfortunately, your relationship fell apart when he expresses his discomfort towards your friendship with Jackson. After you graduate, you assume you would never meet him ever again. It isn’t until one day when you need to form an alliance with another company that you realise your relationship with Mark isn’t over just yet...
Warnings: -
Masterlist
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You run your hands over your light beige blazer as you look at yourself through the full body mirror. You take a deep breath to calm the nerves that were wreaking havoc in your mind. Honestly, there was very little reason for you to be this nervous. You’ve met clients before - but you knew this wasn’t a client. This man is vital for your company. If you fail to get him on board, the company would lose more money than it ever has before. Meaning you as the CEO would also lose more money than you have before.
There’s a knock on your office door and you turn around to see your secretary poking her head in, “Miss, he’s here,” Lex states and you nod in acknowledgement. She leaves your office and you give yourself a double-check in the mirror, making sure you looked fine before leaving. She hands you a folder, “All of the documents you need are in here - including the whole plan and everything. Mr Wang’s already in the conference room, I told him he should wait for you, but… you know how he is,” she further adds and you can’t hold back the laugh that slips past your lips as you flip through the documents.
“Jackson’s a handful, but he knows what he’s doing,” you reassure her. “Thank you, Lex.” The feeling of knowing that Jackson is already in the meeting room adds to your confidence. There’s no way this meeting could go wrong with him around. His charisma was one of the main reasons you started this company with him in the first place. 
You push open the glass door and your heart drops when you see who’s inside. Your entire body freezes, your confidence leaving as you stare at him. 
“Ah! (Y/n), you’re here.” Jackson immediately stands up and makes his way to you. Judging by the nervous look on his face, he already knows. “I’m handing it off to you,” he whispers hastily and forces your frozen body to your seat. 
“(Y/n)? That’s a name I haven’t heard in years,” the man chuckles as he watches you sit down. You extend your hand to shake his.
“It’s really been a while, Mark.” He shakes yours. The feeling of his skin against yours brings back all of those distant, college memories that you had pushed to the back of your mind. “I honestly didn’t know that you’re the man we’d be meeting today,” you confess as you start to open the folder. 
“I would’ve assumed that you would’ve done your research on me.” Mark leans forward, “it’s not exactly the most flattering thing when someone who’s trying to join hands with my company doesn’t even know who the head is.” His tone makes you even more nervous than you already were before. 
“I-I,” you clear your throat and kick Jackson underneath the desk. His body flinches when you do and he’s quick to help.
“W-We assumed your father would be coming for the meeting instead. He is still the head of the company,” he quickly says and you thank the lord that Jackson is sitting beside you. Mark eyes the both of you as you slide the documents towards him; there's no way he didn't hear the thud from below the table. 
“By joining hands, both our companies would be benefitting from both incomes of our merchandise. Jackson’s jewelry line as well as my makeup line are already very well-known. If we collaborate with your clothing line, we would be exposing our brands to more buyers.” You're surprised that you manage to explain it calmly, and it seems that Jackson is as well when his hand squeezes your knee. 
“You would seriously be helping us a lot here, hyung-nim,” Jackson adds. Mark glances up at the two of you before returning to read through the folder. 
“Jackson and I are also planning to start a model agency under our company. Doing so would make it easier for us to find models as well as guaranteeing that our models would be treated fairly. We don’t tolerate mistreatment in this company.” You finish with a soft chuckle. Mark finally looks up from the folder and flashes you a smile, 
“It seems you’ve both gotten quite far. Why do you suddenly need our company to help?” he raises an eyebrow. Shit. The plan in your mind is fleeting by the second. 
“It would reduce the competition for both of our companies, hyung-nim. We’ve been against Def. for the past few years, and I know that you’ve had a handful of rivalries with Ars and Dandelion. You’d be surprised how many of our rivals are actually people that went to our college," Jackson chuckles, clasping his hands in front of himself as he gives Mark a look. Mark stares at him for a moment, the words moving around in his mind before he shrugs. 
“If you're doing so well, then how do you explain your sudden drop in sales?" he questions. 
"The sudden drop in sales is one of the few reasons we've asked for this alliance. There was a small issue with a few of the batches for the makeup. The factory wasn't following the hygiene orders, and they're being reprimanded for it," Jackson explains. 
"We hope that you'll at least take this into thought, Mark." You bite your lip as you watch the way he goes through the contract you slid towards him. He gives you a look that you can't quite understand before looking down at the contract. 
"I'll think about it," he speaks up after a moment as he stands up. "I'll get in contact with you when I've made up my mind." Mark's halfway out the door when he speaks up, "I honestly never thought I'd be seeing you again (Y/n)." And with that, Mark left the conference room. You stared ahead with your mouth agape as you tried to process everything that just happened. 
Never in your life had you thought you'd see Mark Tuan again. What adds to the disbelief is that his company is the one that you and Jackson need to pick up your sales. Mark’s existence was nothing more than a memory - a college fling - that you had pushed away when you graduated. You weren’t supposed to see him anymore. 
“Hey,” Jackson’s hand finds your back and it makes you turn to him. “I don’t think whatever happened in college might affect what’ll happen now,” he reassures you, but it’s not enough to convince you. 
“It just might, Jackson.” You shake your head. Whether or not Mark agrees with the merge would determine the future of your company. The drop in sales was massive, and if Mark decided against it just because of what happened between you two, your company would plummet even further. 
“He can’t be that immature,” he shakes his head, leaning back in his chair. 
“We can’t be too sure,” you mutter out. 
»»————-  ————-««
“(Y/n), come on! Let loose!” Jackson laughs as he hands you a drink. You glare at him as he does. The line between drunk and tipsy was starting to get blurrier and blurrier to in his mind, and he didn’t really care.
“I told you. I’m only here to drive you home,” you remind him, but you take the drink from his hands nonetheless. 
“God,” Jinyoung groans, his head hanging back as he leans against the bar. “Go get laid or something. You haven't gone wild since our second semester. Get drunk. It’s not like there’s any exams coming up anytime soon,” he shrugs as he orders another drink while you stare at him, wondering how he can always remain calm. 
“Guys, we have exams in two weeks!” you exclaim in disbelief and he snorts in response. 
“You’re smart. You’ll pass.” Jackson’s gaze moves towards the crowd of drunk, dancing college students. “Go find yourself someone nice, get drunk, get laid - I don’t know. Just don’t be a buzzkill.” You watch as he downs his drink. “There’s a nice girl over there. If you’re going to leave, let me know,” is the last thing he says before he leaves you at the bar. You turn to Jinyoung with a pleading look. 
“There’s a girl here that I’ve been trying to ask out for months,” he pats you on the shoulder. “I’m not letting this moment go,” he says and leaves you alone, disappearing into the crowd.
You look down at your drink with a sigh, swirling the alcohol inside of it. You wonder how Jackson keeps convincing you to come to these parties even though he knows you’re just there to drive Jinyoung home and Jackson to your shared flat. You don’t release as much energy as Jackson does, leaving you more isolated from the groups whenever you did party. You’re not as good at sweet talking as Jinyoung is which meant you could not flirt properly to save your own life. You’re always the person at the bar, watching your friends get drunk so that you would eventually drive them home, and that’s the only thing that keeps you at the club. 
You watch from the bar as Jackson grinds on a girl while Jinyoung tries to sweet talk his way into Jade’s heart. As your eyes scan the crowd, you lock eyes with an unfamiliar face watching you from the booth filled with a few students you do recognise. The only one you can put a name on is Jaebeom; he’s in your management class. 
You turn your attention away from their booth and towards your phone instead. It’s only one a.m., the night is still young and you were going to be stuck here for another two hours or so. Might as well burn the hours by scrolling through your feed to see what your other friends were doing instead. 
“Hey.” The voice makes you look up to see the same man watching you from before. You flash him a small smile as you take a sip from your drink. “Is anyone sitting here?” he gestures to the empty seat beside you and you quickly shake your head, gesturing for him to sit. He orders a drink before turning to the crowd, leaning back against the bar. “I’m Mark.” 
“(Y/n).” 
“What are you doing sitting here all alone?” he questions. You let out a hum, clicking your tongue as your eyes once again fall on your friends who are wasting the night away. 
“I always get invited to clubs, but I’m more of a chauffeur than anything. I come, I wait, and I drive my friends home,” you raise your hand, pointing with your glass towards Jackson and Jinyoung. 
“I see we have the same job,” Mark chuckles as he reaches behind to grab the glass from the bartender, bringing it to his lips. “I always have to drive Jaebeom home because he insists on coming. He also ends up bringing Youngjae with him, too.” He gestures to his own friends. 
“These people need to pay us for this one day.” You joke, enticing a laugh out of Mark. It’s a nice sound that comes out of his throat.
“If I earned a dollar for every time I had to drive these guys home, I’d probably have enough money to actually hire a driver for them.” He chuckles. You laugh as well, glancing over to look at Mark. You have to admit he was pretty handsome. If his chiseled jaw wasn’t what made you realise it, then it was his smile. “Wanna dance?” Mark turns to you and you look at him wide eyed. 
“I’m not much of a dancer,” you shake your head. 
“It’s not that hard.” He downs his drink as he slides off of his chair and reaches for your hand. “No one’s even going to notice. Everyone here is drunk.” He flashes you a smile and it was enough to convince you to join him. You finish your own drink, taking Mark’s hand and he pulls you into the crowd. With the amount of people on the dance floor, your body is flushed against Mark, causing your cheeks to heat up. “You okay?” he questions and you’re glad it’s too dark for him to properly see your face. 
“Y-Yeah,” you nod. He leans down to your ear, 
“Just put your hands around my neck.” His breath tickles your skin and you oblige, snaking your hands up until you lock your fingers behind his neck. You both start swaying with the music, his hands resting above your hips to guide you gently.
 As you look up at him, you’re hit with this strange feeling in your heart. You assume it’s the alcohol because never once had you ever seen someone this… ethereal. The multicoloured lights flash above the two of you, every colour seeming to make him more and more beautiful in your eyes. You wouldn’t exactly call it ‘love at first sight’ because you know you’re not in love with him, but is strangely feels like you may be soon enough. Your hands gently tug on his neck, bringing his face closer to yours.
“Kiss me,” you state and Mark pulls away for a moment to look at you in slight surprise. When your eyes show no trace of regret towards the words, his eyes darken and he slowly leans down to press his lips against yours.
»»————-  ————-««
Of course you had to bump into him here. Out of all of the places in the world, it would be at a park where you’re walking Jackson’s dog. You look around frantically, trying to find a place - anywhere - to hide. 
“(Y/n).” Damn it. You turn around and force a smile when you see Mark standing there. 
“Hi, Mark,” you force out. His gaze moves down to the golden retriever that’s looking up at him curiously. 
“When did you get a dog?” he questions as he crouches down, “may I?” He glances up at you and you blink a few times before nodding. 
“He’s not mine. This is Jackson’s dog,” you tell him. You take note of the way Mark’s hand stops moving for a moment before resuming to run through Kika’s golden coat. 
“How’s life been since college?” Mark asks, his eyes still on the dog. 
“Well...” You don’t know exactly where to start. Should you start after college or after you and Mark split ways? “After college, I worked at Sony for a few years before Jackson and I decided to start Charmed together.” 
“Together?” He looks up from Kika and you nod. 
“We’ve known each other for so long, and we both decided that it would be easier and safer to start with someone we trust,” you add. Mark nods at that as he turns back to the dog before standing up. There’s an awkward silence that settles between you two for a moment before you decide you can’t stand it anymore. “I-I need to go. I need to take Kika back home,” you quickly excuse yourself and start walking in the opposite direction from Mark. 
“(Y/n),” he reaches out to grab your wrist and it stops you from moving away any further, “I’ve changed.”  You turn around slowly to look at him, you register his words before quickly retracting your hand. 
“That’s…” you trail off as you stare at him. Without saying anything else, you quickly walk away from him and back to your apartment only to see Jackson rummaging through your fridge like a parasite. Well, maybe parasite was a bit of a stretch, but you knew giving him the code to your apartment was a bad idea. 
He peeks up from the fridge to greet you, but he can tell from your face that something went wrong. Jackson being someone who could see right through you, does not leave you alone until you give up from trying to hide it. Turning on your Netflix, you plop yourself onto your couch and explain everything. 
“Now, why would your college affair affect us now?” Jackson questions as he pulls two bottles of beer out from your fridge. 
“Well, for starters, he hated you in college,” you groan, throwing your head back to lean over the edge of your couch. “I broke up with him because I would never abandon you,” you tell Jackson. He stands behind the couch with the opened bottles in his hand. 
“Well, if he says he’s changed, then maybe he has.” He shrugs, plopping himself onto the spot beside you as Kika jumps up onto his lap. 
“God, when I said Kika was your dog and not mine, he fucking froze, Jackson. You don’t do that if you’ve moved on,” you argue and Jackson responds by clinking his bottle with yours. “And that time in the conference room, you should’ve seen his face when I kicked your leg. I’m pretty damn sure he heard it.”
“You always overthink things, (Y/n),” he mutters out with a chuckle as he presses play on a random movie. “You don’t let things just go with the flow. That’s how you acted when you dumped him, and that’s how you’re acting now. Don’t try and force yourself to figure out whether he’s okay with you now, just wait things out and see.”
“Yes - but Jackson, if he lets those old feelings come back, it’ll affect his decision,” you grumble. Jackson lets out a sigh, 
“Drink your beer before it gets warm. You hate warm beer,” he states and leans back, kicking his feet up onto your coffee table. 
“And I hate it when you do that.” You smack his thigh and he whines as he lowers his legs.
“If you ask me, I really don’t think he’ll let me being your best friend affect business. If he does, then he’s really unprofessional,” Jackson shrugs as he takes a swig from his beer. You bite the inside of your cheek as you turn away from Jackson and towards your TV. Hopefully, Jackson’s right. 
»»————-  ————-««
The knock on your door makes you dash out of your bedroom to answer it. Opening the door, you see Mark with his usual gummy smile when he sees you. 
“Mark? What are you doing here?” you question, slightly surprised that he had suddenly shown up. After that night with Mark, you honestly had a lingering feeling that you would end up meeting him again. As though it was some kind of fate that you would end up crossing paths once again.
“I was wondering if you’d like to have dinner with me.” He licks his lips nervously as he scans your face for your reaction. You immediately nod, smiling slowly. 
“Yeah, of course.” It was no secret that you may have grown to like the mysterious man from the club. That night you spent with him was one of the best nights you ever had, and you had to admit that you were quite sad when you remembered he was a one night stand. 
“If you’re not doing anything now, maybe we could grab something to eat at the barbeque restaurant right outside campus,” Mark suggests and you immediately agree. 
“Let me just grab my purse.” You gesture for him to step into your apartment before you disappear into your bedroom, grabbing your purse and your phone. You’re lucky he had come at a time when Jinyoung had cancelled your plans to grab some McDonalds, meaning you were already dressed up to go out. 
“Do you live alone?” Mark asks as you lock your front door. You shake your head. 
“I live with Jackson. Saves money for the both of us,” you hum.
“With Jackson? The guy from the club?” His eyes go wide and you nod. 
“I’ve known Jackson since we were in elementary. We graduated high school together, and we’re probably gonna graduate college together. Who knows, maybe we’ll even work together.” You laugh lightly, failing to miss Mark’s baffled expression. He quickly wipes it off of his face as he walks beside you. 
“You guys must be close,” he mutters out and you nod once again. 
“Jackson’s pretty much been through everything I’ve been through. We’re like opposites of each other, but he’s almost like my other brain cell,” you joke. Mark purses his lips as you walk down the stairs of the apartment - walking saved time since you lived on the second floor - and out of the building. 
“Isn’t it weird living with another guy?” His question surprises you and you quickly shake your head. 
“Jackson’s like a brother to me,” you tell him and he lets out a hum at that. “Why?” 
“I don’t know. Maybe I’ve just never met someone who I’m able to connect with that well.” Mark shrugs. You give him a weird look and decide to just brush it off. 
“It’s never crossed my mind as weird. Jackson’s really just family for me,” you say. He lets out a hum and you can feel a strange tension starting to build between the two of you. “Is it weird?” you question softly. It’s rare to both you and Jackson that someone doesn’t find it weird. 
“A little bit,” he mutters out, but you can hear from the tone in his voice that he really doesn’t mean it in a bad way. “I don’t think I’ve ever been that close to someone before, so maybe it’s just new to me.” Mark turns to you and gives you a reassuring smile. 
“Are you okay with it?” you ask. He turns away from you for a moment before shrugging. 
“I guess I’ll just try and get used to it.”
»»————-  ————-««
“Mark? Like Mark Tuan?” Jinyoung questions and Jackson nods. You’re laying your head on the table while Jackson tells Jinyoung of how unfortunate you are to have met Mark again. “If he isn’t over it, he’s a dick,” he scoffs as he takes a sip from his iced tea. 
“See?” You look up to see Jackson giving you an ‘I told you so’ look. 
“If he’s a dick, he might reject the contract,” you whine. 
“She still overthinks, huh?” Jinyoung chuckles. You respond by glaring at him. “(Y/n), if he doesn’t want to have an alliance, do one with my company,” he suggests. 
“Your company doesn’t make as much money as Mark’s company,” Jackson snorts and Jinyoung punches his arm. 
“Yah, at least I’m still making more than you guys,” he snaps. 
“I guess an alliance with Jinyoung’s company wouldn’t be that bad.” You sit up straight and Jinyoung gives you a smug look. 
“I’d be saving your asses,” he proudly states. 
“You’re still not our first option, Jinyoung,” Jackson points out, “if Mark accepts the alliance, then we’ll stick with that.” He takes a sip from his coffee while Jinyoung slides the plate of tiramisu your way. 
“I really think you’re overthinking this, (Y/n),” Jinyoung adds, watching you take the plate and scoop the desert into your mouth. 
“You guys don’t have to keep telling me that,” you grumble. 
“Well, you keep bringing him up. Of course we’re going to keep telling you that.” He shrugs. “Why did you guys break up again?” 
“He didn’t like the fact that I was so close to both you and Jackson,” you mutter out as the memories start to replay in your mind. “It was why I tried to spend less time with you guys and more time with Mark.”
“(Y/n) already told him about how we’ve been friends since forever,” Jackson adds and you nod. 
“He tried to get me to stop hanging out with both of you. So,” you let out a sigh as you sat up, “I dumped him instead.” 
“Understandable,” Jinyoung hums. “It’s the same reason Jade and I broke up.”  
“Is it so terrible that the three of us are so close?” Jackson questions. There’s the familiar hint of annoyance and frustration in his tone. 
“Maybe it’s less of the three of us and more of us,” he gestures to Jackson and himself, “and (Y/n).” 
“Is it really that big of a deal? I’m tired of hearing the same ‘guys can’t be just friends with girls’ bullshit,” you sigh, “I even tried to make a deal that I would spend less time with Jackson, but he wanted me to cut ties with him instead.”  Your two friends share the same tired glance. Ever since high school, it seemed to be some kind of weird narrative that you - a girl - couldn’t be close with a guy - Jackson, and it only heightened when the two of you met Jinyoung in college. 
It was frustrating whenever people would question your relationship. The three of you are friends, and that was all. Whatever romantic or sexual feelings that were present had disappeared long ago. There was a moment in time where your platonic relationship with Jinyoung almost turned into something more, but you both decided it would be better to stay as friends rather than turning it into something more. 
“If anything goes wrong with the contract, just give me a call,” Jinyoung spoke up. “You guys are free to join hands with my company.” He flashes you a reassuring smile and it helps to lift your spirits a bit more. 
“Thanks, Jinyoung.” You return the smile. 
“The best thing you can do right now is wait it out. Don’t do that thing where you end things because you’re scared someone else will end it,” Jackson warns jokingly. 
“Shut up, you do that, too,” you snap at him. He lets out an exaggerated gasp and clutch his chest dramatically, starting the playful bicker between you two while Jinyoung watches in disbelief. 
“We’re almost thirty and you both still argue like a bunch of fucking kids.” Jinyoung laughs. He lets out another laugh when you both ignore his statement and continue bickering with each other. 
“Hold up, can we backtrack for a moment?” Jackson asks after your childish argument is over. “Didn’t Mark try and get you back up until he graduated?” 
“Yeah,” you nod with a sigh. “That’s honestly what I’m the most scared of. He probably hates me because after he graduated because he kept trying even after we graduated a year later. Then, he just stopped contacting me completely. I honestly thought that was the last I would hear from him.” You mutter out. 
“Wait, he kept trying even after our graduation?” Jinyoung’s eyes go wide. “Why didn’t you tell us?” He questions. 
“I didn’t want you guys to beat him up or something - I don’t know.” You shrug. 
“(Y/n), it was more than a year after you guys broke up. You told us he kept trying until right before our graduation.” Jackson’s tone sounds like he’s almost scolding you. You have to admit, you kept his messages away from the two because you knew for a fact that they would’ve tried to hunt him down and make him stop. 
“If I told you he kept bothering me, it would’ve made it worse. Leave me alone, it’s been like seven years.” you grumble. 
“If he held on for more than a year and even told her that he’s changed, doesn’t it mean he’s probably…” Jinyoung trails off and the real problem that was brewing in your mind hits Jackson. 
“He’s probably still in love with you…” Jackson mutters out in realisation. “That’s why you’re so bothered by it.” He turns to you for clarification and you nod. 
“Do you still love him?” Jinyoung questions and you breathe out through your nose as you think about it. 
“Well, if I’m going to be honest, I don’t think I ever really fell out of love with him,” you confess softly and both of their eyes go wide. “I think I just pushed it away because if he’s not okay with my best friends, then I don’t want him,” you mutter out, leaning forward and resting your chin onto the table. 
A silence falls between the three of you as Jackson and Jinyoung think through it. Say Mark is still in love with you, but has not gotten over the fact that you’re best friends with Jackson, he could easily reject the offer to avoid heartache. But, if Mark isn’t in love with you and he hates you for leaving him for your friends, then he could also reject the offer out of pure spite. The more they thought about it, the harder it seemed to get out of the situation. 
“Can we just hope he’s finally moved on?” Jinyoung suggests and you sigh for the umpteenth time, your head nodding slowly. 
»»————-  ————-««
“I just don’t trust him, babe,” Mark mutters out. You turn to him with sad eyes. A year and a half, and it’s always the same fight with him.
“Mark, I’ve known him since we were eight, and I’ve known Jinyoung since our first year. We’re just friends, I promise,” you try to assure him. 
“It’s not exactly comforting when your girlfriend’s only best friends are two guys,” he huffs out. You shut your eyes and hang your head. Of course it would be because Jackson and Jinyoung. Mark’s dislike towards Jackson and Jinyoung was getting more and more obvious as the months went by; specifically towards Jackson. For some reason, he just couldn’t bear through the fact that you two were so close. 
“I don’t understand why it’s such a problem. I’ve been spending less time with the both of them to be with you. I want to be with you - I love you.” You reach out to hold his hand. Mark looks down at yours on top of his for a moment before interlacing your fingers together. 
“I love you too, (Y/n). But, I don’t think I’m comfortable with you hanging out with them at all.” Your hand immediately retracts from his and you stand up from the couch, his words replaying in your head. 
“I’m not going to leave my friends behind, Mark,” you scoff, “I’ve been trying so hard to get you to see why they’re so important to me, but you keep pushing that away and focus on the fact that they’re men.” 
“It’s more than that!” he exclaims, shooting from the couch. “I just don’t trust Jackson! Is it that hard to ask you to not see him anymore?” Mark’s words sound so childish to you. It would’ve been more understandable if he took the time to get to know them, but he wouldn’t. He always declined whenever you invited him to hang out with all three of you. 
“Make the effort, Mark. I’ve tried to bring you over so you could actually sit and talk to both of them, but you always push me away whenever I try to get you guys to meet. I can’t just throw away my best friends just because you tell me to.” You see Mark’s jaw clench as he stares at you.
“(Y/n), come on!” His eyes hold so much disbelief and anger.
“I’ve known Jackson for more than ten years. I’m not just going to drop him because you don’t trust him. I’ve already tried to spend more time with you instead so that maybe you could just stop thinking so negatively of him!” you defend, your voice faltering as tears start to well up in your eyes. Mark’s increasingly getting more and more upset. You can practically see the steam shooting out of his ears. 
“Would you choose them over me?” His voice is low, and by the way it falters ever so slightly, you know he’s close to tears as well. 
“I can’t just abandon them,” you answer softly. It strikes him to the core and Mark has a hard time trying to keep himself composed. Tears are falling freely from your eyes and you don’t care to wipe or hide them. “I just don’t understand why you won’t just try and see who they are as people instead of judging them straight up,” you sniffle, “we’ve been fighting over this for a year and a half, and... I can’t do this anymore.” You grab your bag and your sweater off of the arm rest of his couch before rushing out of his apartment, leaving Mark alone in his living room. 
You stand outside of his door for a moment, debating whether or not you should wait to see if he would come for you. You shake your head and walk away. You weren’t going to give him the chance. 
»»————-  ————-««
You step out of the lift and make your way to your office, being greeted by Lex who was already sitting at her desk. 
“Miss (Y/n), you have a message,” she speaks up, stopping you from entering your office. You step closer to her desk and give her a questioning hum. “It’s from Mark Tuan; he wants to talk to you.” Your body tenses at the mention of his name. 
“Let him know I’m here,” you manage to say and Lex nods as she sits back down. You make your way into your office, immediately moving to sit at your desk. Curse professional looking glass walls for not giving you any room to obviously panic for a moment. Instead, you take a few deep breaths as you wait for his call. It doesn’t take long before the phone starts ringing. You pick up the phone without hesitation. 
“Morning, (Y/n),” Mark’s voice comes through the speaker. 
“Good morning, Mark,” you greet, leaning back in your chair. “Have you given the offer a thought?” you ask. 
“I’m still thinking about it. I called to ask if you were free for lunch,” he clarifies and once again, your body tenses up. “It’s nice to catch up with an old friend. You could also explain more about the alliance to me.” 
“I- Sure. There’s a cafe by the park where we bumped into each other. I’ll meet you there.” You place the phone down and stare at it for a moment. Your eyes move to the clock to the wall; you had about three hours before you would meet him. So, you burn the hours with work and skimming over documents that need your approval. You're lucky Jackson’s off to Jeju Island with his fiancee for the week, meaning you don’t have to think about lunch with the amount of work you have to cover for him. 
“Miss (Y/n),” Lex knocks on your door before poking her head in, “It’s lunch time.” She tells you and it causes you to look away from your computer monitor to look at her. “Mr Kim is already here to take you to the cafe.” You nod at her and she leaves. You grab your leather messenger bag as well as your phone before making your way down the forty floors to reach the lobby. The ride to the cafe is nerve wracking, and you’re so quiet throughout that your usual chauffeur takes notice. 
“Are you alright, Miss (Y/n)?” Mr Kim questions, looking at you through the rear view mirror. Mr Kim’s pretty old, but sometimes you and Jackson feel as though he deserves a raise since he works pretty well as your therapist whenever he’s driving you around. 
“Ah,” you’re too nervous to feel flustered that he notices. “The man I’m meeting is someone I used to know in college.” 
“An ex lover, perhaps?” He raises a brow. Now, you’re blushing. 
“Yeah,” you chuckle nervously. “I’m worried that maybe he’s still holding on to those spiteful feelings.” 
“You must’ve been quite a wild one, huh,” Mr Kim chuckles. 
“I had no other choice. He made me choose between him or Jackson and Jinyoung,” you explain softly, leaning your head against the window as you watch the buildings go by. Even to this day, you would still admit that you would choose both Jinyoung and Jackson in a heartbeat. “You know how close I am to those two. I could never just leave them behind because Mark told me to,” you sigh. Mr Kim nods at that, peeking at you through the mirror once again. 
“Based on the stories I’ve heard from the two of you, you both might as well be siblings - especially with the way you bicker. You remind me of my children,” he chuckles, enticing a soft laugh out of you as well. “I don’t think it should matter what happened in the past, Miss (Y/n). A word of advice: people regret the things they didn’t do more than the things they did. If he’s taken the time to mature, there’s a possibility that he might be hurting inside more from the things he failed to do as your partner,” Mr Kim hums out. His words lift your spirits slightly and it sparks realisation deep within you. You think that maybe you should’ve thought about what you failed to do as Mark’s girlfriend as well. “Now, what didn’t you do while you were together?” 
“I-” You pause and think about it deeply. “I don’t think I listened to him the way he wanted me to,” you say slowly, thinking through your words as the memories flood your mind. 
“If he was upset over your relationship with Jackson, he may have some form of insecurity hidden deep within him - maybe another ex of his had left him for someone he trusted,” Mr Kim adds. That’s when it hit you. Mark had mentioned once of his ex girlfriend who ended up cheating on him with her best friend. 
“Oh my god,” you let out a breath as you let everything come into your mind. More and more regret starts to fill your gut as you realise that Mark was scared. He wasn’t being a dick because he wanted to, he was just scared. Instead of being able to translate it into words, his mind built a hard wall instead. That wall was the anger he kept showing whenever he heard Jackson’s name in college. 
“Do you understand now?” he questions just as he parks outside of the cafe. “That feeling of feeling wronged tends to blind you from what’s really happening on the inside.” Mr Kim adds. You nod slowly as you look at the cafe, already seeing Mark sitting inside with his back facing the large glass window. 
“Thank you, Mr Kim. You made me realise just how blind I was being in college.” You chuckle as you make sure you have your things. 
“Good luck, Miss (Y/n).” He chuckles as well as he watches you leave the car. You puff your cheeks with air, holding your breath as you walk into the cafe. Mark immediately looks up when he hears the bell and raises his hand into the air to wave at you, a soft smile on his face as you make your way over to him. 
“Hey,” you greet him and sit down across from him. 
“I ordered a green tea latte.” He clears his throat, gesturing towards the green beverage. “It was, uh, it was always your favourite when we were in college,” he mutters out. You stare at the drink in front of you for a moment before smiling softly as well,
“Thank you, Mark.” You take a small folder out from your bag and place it in front of him. “This has all of the details for the possible projects that could come from the alliance.” You watch as he looks through it, the round glasses on the bridge of his nose slowly sliding down until he’s forced to push them back up. “Are those the same glasses from when we were in college?” The words slip out of your mouth before you could stop them, and he looks up at you, flustered. Your cheeks immediately go red as you look at him with wide eyes. 
“I actually broke those a few years after,” Mark explains softly. “I thought round glasses looked nice on my face, so I bought one that was similar.” He nods before looking back down, obviously trying to hide the faint blush that was creeping onto his cheeks. There’s a pause in his movements before he looks up at you. “Everything here seems tempting.” He nods slowly, his eyes still going over them. “I’ll agree to the alliance,” Mark smiles. You feel a wave of relief wash over you and your shoulders start to relax. “If you have the contract with you now, I’ll sign it right here.” 
“Thank you so much, Mark.” You smile as you reach into your bag to pull out the contract, sliding it towards him as well as a pen. You watch as he reads through it briefly before signing it and handing it back to you. You look at the paper, seeing his signature at the bottom. “Your signature never changed, huh?” you chuckle softly and Mark’s ears turn slightly red. 
“I never thought I needed to change it. It looks legit enough,” he chuckles nervously.
“I remember how you only figured out your signature when we were together, and even then it was only because you were tired of signing your notebook over and over again,” you giggle, enticing a laugh from Mark. You notice that his laugh is still the same. Pretty much almost everything about him is the same. The only thing different is that his hair isn’t the same messily styled lilac it used to be. Instead, it’s highlighted with light brown streaks and styled neatly. “It’s nice,” you state softly as you run your thumb over the dried ink. 
“Do you regret being with me?” he asks. You look up from the paper with wide eyes and quickly shake your head. 
“Of course not!” Your voice comes out louder than you expected it to, and you quickly shut your eyes at the embarrassment of doing so. “I don’t regret anything between us. I just,” you pause for a moment. “I’m just upset that I didn’t try to understand why you didn’t like Jackson,” you confess softly and you can see Mark’s body relax slightly. “I think it took a while before I realised that maybe I wasn’t listening to what you were trying to tell me.” He exhales softly, sitting up straighter. 
“I don’t blame you.” He shakes his head. “Honestly, I thought through it for a really long time and I realise it’s not that easy to give up someone you’ve known for almost your entire life. I’m sorry I tried to make you cut him off. When I saw you again at your company, I realised you two are pretty much joint together,” Mark chuckles softly and takes a sip from his coffee. “I’m sorry for being such a dick.” You see the genuinity behind his brown eyes and for the first time in years, you can feel your heart melting just from a look. 
“I forgive you.” You nod with a smile. Mark’s lips slowly curl into a smile and he looks down at your hands that are resting on the table; inches away from his own.
“Did you fall out of love with me?” he questions, turning back up to look at you. 
“I honestly don’t think I ever did,” you chuckle. He bites his lip as he tries to hold back his smile. 
“Would it hurt to try again?” Mark’s tone softens further. As you look into his eyes, you feel that familiar feeling you felt all those years ago when you first met him; the feeling of knowing something about you two attracted each other. With a smile, you reach for his hand.
“I would love if we could.” 
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damianwaynerocks · 4 years
Text
Ghosts in Gotham
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Danny Phantom / DC Comics fanfic
Dedicated to: @dannyphantom-justiceleauge
Summary: The Batfamily has been through their fair share of the supernatural. That’s why they originally weren’t worried whenever ghosts started showing up in Gotham City. Until one day, something happens; Batman is captured and taken into the Ghost Zone. With no way to go in there themselves, the no way to fight the ghosts inside, the bats decide to call the person who can; Danny Phantom. Together, Danny takes Tim Drake, Stephanie Brown and Damian Wayne into the Ghost Zone before the Batman is lost forever.
Words: 2032
ch 2 Masterlist
Chapter 1:
-
Every city had its hero.
Gotham City? Batman. Metropolis? Superman. Central City? The Flash.
Amity Park? Danny Phantom.
Amity Park had mixed feelings about Phantom. Some said he was a helper, a true hero, keeping the town safe. Others said he was a criminal, doing nothing but wreaking havoc on the town. Either way, Phantom was known for one specific thing; fighting ghosts.
Which is what he was doing at the moment.
"I am!! The Box Ghost!!" a short, stocky ghost shouted. His eyes glowed blue and an aura of the same color surrounded the boxes crowding the back of a movie theater. "Beware!" he raised his arms and hurled three boxes at a figure who easily dodged.
"Come on, Box Ghost," a teenage boy with white hair and green eyes floating above the ground groaned. "I don't have time for this! I have to order the new Cheese Viking game before it sells out!"
"Beware!" The Box Ghost shouted again, throwing more boxes at the boy.
Danny Phantom rolled his eyes as his body became intangible, the boxes easily passing through it. He raised his arm, and a blast of bright green energy shot from his palm, hitting the Box Ghost square in the chest. The Box Ghost, with a grunt, was blown back into the brick wall of the movie theater.
Not wasting any time, Danny grabbed the thermos that he had strapped to his back and pointed it at the other ghost. In a flash of light, the Box Ghost was sucked into the thermos.
"Finally," Danny muttered as he took off into the sky.
Danny Phantom, his real name being Danny Fenton, was a sixteen-year-old halfa, or a ghost-human hybrid. He could switch between ghost and human form at will. He'd gotten his powers from an accident with the Ghost Portal, a portal in his home that was a bridge between the human world and the Ghost Zone, where every ghost resides.
Ghosts repeatedly escaped the Ghost Zone through this portal for one of three reasons; to wreak havoc on the human world, to kill Danny or both. Usually, it was the latter.
Danny returned to his house, passing through the walls of the building with intangibility and landing in the lab. He switched back to his human form in a flash of light, changing his hair color from white to black and his eyes from green to blue.
His family was made up of ghost hunters- aside from his sister -so they had an entire lab dedicated to ghost technology.
"Back you go, Boxy," Danny said as he released the Box Ghost into the portal. "Finally," he sighed, "Time to get Cheese Viking."
"No!" he shouted five minutes later at his computer. The new Cheese Viking, Danny's favorite game, had sold out.
"Danny!" a large man in an orange jumpsuit burst into the boy's room. "Are you okay!? Are you hurt!?"
"No, Dad, I'm fine," Danny replied to his father, Jack Fenton. "Except for that stupid Box Ghost making me too late to get Cheese Viking!"
He hadn't told his parents about his life as Phantom until he was fifteen. Well, it wasn't Danny who told them. His sister found him in his room passed out with a gaping hole in his side, and she had to tell their parents so they could help him.
Jack paused. "But.. you got him?" he asked cheerily. Danny smiled.
"Yeah. I got him." Jack slapped him on the back.
"Thatta boy!" he said with a grin. "Come on, Jazz got a letter from Wayne Enterprises and your mom wants the whole family to watch her open it!"
Jazz, Danny's sister, had just graduated high school and had applied for an internship at Wayne Enterprises, one of the largest businesses in the world. An internship there would kick-start her career in marketing. That was the reason she claimed, but Danny was sure that part of the reason was that Bruce Wayne, the billionaire who owned Wayne Enterprises, was cute.
"Finally!" Jazz, a girl with long red hair and a blue headband huffed. "I haven't been able to look for three hours! What were you out doing?"
"Uh, my job?" Danny smirked as he hopped over the back of the couch to sit on it. Jazz rolled her eyes.
"Open it, dear!" Their mom, Maddie Fenton, urged. Jazz grinned widely, opening the letter. Her smile grew, and she jumped up and down.
"I got it!" she squealed. "I got it!! I got the internship!!"
"That's great, Jazz!" the other three Fentons exclaimed at once. Jazz seemed to get even more excited as she continued reading the letter.
"And," she continued excitedly, "All the interns are expected to attend the next Wayne Gala with their families! All expenses paid!"
"Yes!" Jack cried. "We're going to New Jersey, baby!" As the entire family celebrated, Danny couldn't help but be suspicious. Jazz had applied late and while she was smart, she wouldn't have been anything special next to the other applicants.
Something was up. _
"So what, you think she only got accepted because of you?" A girl with short black hair raised an eyebrow as they walked through the halls of their high school. "Why, exactly?"
"Because, Sam," Danny responded to his girlfriend. "It's weird. I was looking at the Infi-map, and there's a portal to the Ghost Zone in Gotham that wasn't there a month ago. And get this? It's five miles away from Wayne Manor.”
"You think Bruce Wayne wants you out of the way for some plan?
"It wouldn't be the first time somebody did."
"But how would he even know who you are?" Sam Manson asked, "I mean, there's no way he knows that you're Phantom."
"Um, because he's Batman?" An African American boy walking beside them scoffed as though it was obvious. "Batman knows everything."
Danny and Sam laughed. "Tucker, seriously?" Danny shook his head in disbelief. "That conspiracy? Batman and Bruce Wayne have been seen at the same time in the same place multiple times.”
"Okay, well, you can clone yourself! Who's to say Batman can't? Or maybe it's a hologram! Or maybe it's one of his thousand children in the suit!" Tucker Foley counted on his fingers as he rattled off the various theories. His eyes widened, and he grabbed Danny's shoulders. "Dude, you have to get proof."
"There's no way I'd be able to get close enough to Bruce Wayne to prove anything."
"Then trick him!" Tucker said, his eyes bright. "Most of Bruce's adopted kids are boys with black hair and blue eyes! Just say you're an orphan and I bet he'll be like 'Of course you can stay, I am always down for more children."
"Okay, first of all," Danny began, adjusting his backpack on his shoulder and prying his friends arms off of him. “His son Damian? That kid scares me, he gives off Dash vibes. Did you see how he made that interviewer cry?"
A few months prior, a video had surfaced that showed Damian Wayne insulting a girl who was trying to give him an interview. The two-minute video ended with the girl crying.
"And second of all-" Danny was cut off as he was shoved to the ground. He looked up to see Dash Baxter, a muscular boy with blonde hair.
"Watch where you're going, Fen-freak," Dash sneered, "Before I shove your puny face into a locker!"
Danny gritted his teeth as he sat up. Dash had been picking on him from the beginning of high school. Two years later, he hadn't stopped.
On any other occasion, Danny would have said something in response, but Dash had already continued down the hall.
"Why can't you just zap him or something?" Tucker grumbled. "He's the worst!"
"Yeah, I know," Danny stood up, wiping dust off of his shirt. "But I can't. It isn't right."
"Your moral code is dumb," his friend snapped back.
"If you're going to Gotham," said Sam with a pointed look at Tucker. "Who's gonna be here to help with the ghosts?"
"I've got it covered," Danny replied swiftly, looking up. "Dani's coming down.  It'll be fine. I have to keep Jazz safe, and figure out what Brucie Wayne is up to."
__
"I am sure Father would have a better plan than to invite some under-qualified intern to the Manor."
A seventeen-year-old boy with spiky black hair rolled his eyes. "Damian, she isn't under-qualified. She meets all of the qualifications for the internship."
The first boy, an Arab thirteen-year-old with the same spiky hair and bright green eyes, scoffed. "There is no way a person from some backwater town would have received the internship if we hadn't needed her brother."
Tim Drake and Damian Wayne, the youngest children of Bruce Wayne. Damian currently held the Robin mantle, while Tim used Red Robin. The brothers were in a large cave decked out with a plethora of high-tech equipment.
"Okay, but you think every place outside of Gotham is a backwater town." Tim pointed out as he swiveled his chair to face a massive computer.
"Amity Park is a backwater town. The citizens there are animals," Damian retorted, crossing his arms. "You just cannot see that because you are also a backwater type."
Tim laughed as he realized what the younger boy was basing his opinion on. "Damian, please tell me you haven't generalized an entire city just because of one tourist from Amity Park ran into you and spilled soda on your shirt."
"It was my favorite shirt! And that cretin did not even apologize!" Damian spat. "The nerve!"
"Okay, well, put aside your dumb grudge and think about the objective," Tim responded. "I think, if you look within that thing you call a soul, you can see that letting one intern that you think is under-qualified is worth getting Bruce back."
"Tt. I suppose," Damian admitted begrudgingly. "If this Danny Phantom character truly has the potential to save Father."
"He's the only one who can." Tim reminded him. "We can't get into the Ghost Zone without a ghost, and I don't think any of the ones we've seen so far would be willing to help," He paused. "Plus, don't the Fentons make ghost hunting gear? Who knows, maybe they have a ghost sword."
After a sudden wave of ghost attacks in Gotham, Bruce had poured in countless hours of research to find out as much as he could about ghosts. He had discovered that they came from another dimension and that there was one person who was an expert at fighting them; Danny Phantom of Amity Park. It didn't take very long for him to uncover Phantom's true identity.
"Tim! Dames!" a voice shouted. "My boys!" Tim and Damian looked towards the stairs and saw a taller man with black hair and blue eyes jump the railing of said stairs, landing in the Bat Cave.This was their oldest brother, Dick Grayson, also known as Nightwing. He grinned brightly. "How's it going?"
"Making sure that we have every possible outcome of this mission prepared for." Tim replied as he continued typing on the Bat Computer. Damian nodded.
“Yes, and so I have decided that I shall accompany them on this journey."
"Damian, no." his older brothers said at the same time. Damian scowled.
"Why not? I am plenty capable of-
"Because people would get suspicious if Batman suddenly didn't have a Robin," Dick answered, strolling towards the younger boy. "That's why Jason, Tim, and Stephanie are going. They won't be missed," He gave Tim a nervous look. "No offense."
"None taken," Tim replied, waving his hand. "Sorry Damian, you'd just get in the way."
"But I have died before!" Damian huffed, his hands clenching into fists. "That combined with my skills- which are far greater than yours, Drake, I might add -makes me much more qualified than you."
"Little D, dude, I just told you," Dick ruffled his younger brother's hair. "It'll be suspicious if you're gone. And besides, I need you. We're a great team."
"But my father is in there-"
"Master Damian-" their butler, Alfred Pennyworth, interrupted the trio's squabbling. "You won't be going anywhere until your homework is done."
"Homework? Finding my father is much more important than an essay on why the Roman empire fe-"
"Master Damian." Alfred repeated in a low tone. "Now."
Damian scowled as he trudged up the stairs. It didn't matter how tough the person was. When Alfred told you to do something, you do it. "I will be going with you, Drake!" he called behind his shoulder. "I promise you that!"
Dick and Tim exchanged a glance and rolled their eyes.
"Children."
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misterewrites · 4 years
Text
Unlikely Allies (Welcome to the Underground
Hey everyone! E here hoping you are all safe and sound. Sorry for the delay. The original plan was for me to update every two week because of my various responsibilities but a lot of things ended up happening so I had to delay this chapter a bit. Also there has been a shift in my job that might affect the release date of this chapters as well so hopefully I can keep up the whole two week deadline but as a word of warning delays might happen.
Thank you for reading this project of mine. I really appreciate it and I am so glad it's doing so well. Feel free to Reblog, share, comment all that jazz I love reading them and remember this story is also on Ao3. Stay safe, wear your mask, wash your hands and take care of yourself and your love ones! Have a great week! E is out!
https://archiveofourown.org/works/27814297/chapters/71425041
Story so far: One day into the Underground proper and Abigail has already been chased by strange creatures into an unexplored tunnel and a creepy house that screams trouble. Trapped within, the group runs into a paladin wandering the darken halls. Despite the stranger's calm demeaner, Oliver claims he's nothing but trouble and little does the group know how correct he is. 
_____
“No by the way” Oliver narrowed his eyes at the man before the trio.
The stranger tilted his head quizzically “No?”
“No” Oliver repeated firmly “We’re not interested in your righteous cause or your god.
The stranger chuckled darkly “What righteous cause?”
“You’re a paladin in an evil creepy house in an unexplored tunnel off the beaten path.” Oliver explained “That only means one thing: Trouble. Solius I take with the whole…”
He gestured to the faded sun symbol splashed across the dented armor.
“Aye” The paladin answered with a nod “I am Fen, judgment of the sun god Solius on this mortal plane.”
Oliver raised an eyebrow sarcastically “Solius is the god of sunshine, rainbows and redemption. I wasn’t aware of he added judgment to his resume.”
“He hasn’t” Abigail mumbled.
Neither Oliver or Fen paid her any attention.
“Your mocking is common among the faithless” Fen growled softly.
Oliver gave a noncommittal shrug “If you want to believe in a higher being in exchange for some magical whatevers, that’s a you problem. I’m good with my music.”
“Bards” Fen spat out distastefully.
“Paladorks.” Oliver replied with false civility.
Abigail and Archibald watched the barbed exchange carefully, unsure what exactly was going on.
Abigail’s knowledge of paladins was sketchy at best: Like clerics, she knew their drew their magic from the deity they have chosen to follow. Good and bad gods existed in equal measure in this world and each ruling a domain such as light, dark, night, murder, redemption. Unlike the clerics, who often were healers or at the very least practitioners of powerful magics, paladins were their god’s warrior on the mortal plane, protecting their flock or routing out their enemies with religious fervor and steel.
Abigail was only familiar with Solius due to her family’s livelihood. While not particularly devoted to the sun god, her parents often left offerings in his church in the town to help ensure a good harvest for the year.
Speaking honestly, Abigail was never sure how exactly clerics and paladins drew their magic from a god or how exactly gods worked. She had heard the elders endlessly argue whether the gods were divine or simply higher beings who were beyond the comprehension of mortal beings. It was frankly above her thought process and she rather focus on questions she could answer such as what she was going to eat that day and if the bloodblooms needed more or less water.
“So.” Oliver began tiredly “How much danger are we in?”
Abigail and Archibald shared a concern glance
“I’m sorry, did you just say we’re in danger?”
“Yes” Fen answered bluntly “Much danger.”
“Much danger?” Abigail couldn’t keep stop her pitch from rising “Danger!?”
Oliver gestured to Fen “Of course we’re in danger. A paladin’s here. An experienced
paladin.”
“How do you know he’s…?”
The question died in her throat as she got a good look at Fen: A longsword hung sheathed at his side, his armor worn and nicked dozens of scratches and dents across the faded symbol of a sunburst. At first she thought his left arm was draped in his riding cloak, hidden out of sight but as he pushed the hood from his head and adjusted the cloak with his right hand, she realized with an icy chill that he had no left arm.
Archibald shifted uncomfortably beside her.
“I lost it in a mighty battle.” Fen answered the group’s unasked question “I had it removed when a cursed creature bit my arm.”
“Cursed creature?” Abigail thought for a moment “Like a werewolf? Wait, there’s werewolves down here? How would that even work?”
“Mystic moon energy. Let’s move along.” Oliver chimed in “What are you hunting here in the dark?”
“Wait I want to know more about the werewolves!”
“Demon” Fen stated, ignoring Abigail’s inquires.
“We’re in its prison, aren’t we?” Oliver rubbed his eyes wearily.
Abigail stopped dead in her tracks “Demon?”
Fen remained silent but nodded in conformation.
“Demon.”
“For fucks sake. Can we leave?”
“Guys, there’s a demon here?”
Fen paused thoughtfully “I do not know but I would recommend against it. The sealing power of this place is weakened. If it were to escape….”
“Yeah, yeah.” Oliver cut him off “Innocent souls consumed, bloodshed, the standard spiel.”
Fen glared openly “How carefree it must be to hold nothing sacred.”
“Not all of us wear our bleeding hearts on our sleeve.” Oliver coldly replied.
Abigail cut in between them “There’s a demon here?!”
“Yes, I thought we made it clear. Keep up farm girl.”
“How are you not panicking?!”
“Survival instinct” Oliver explained simply “You can panic when you’re not about to die.”
“Speaking of, remember not to in a moment.” Fen glanced towards a darken hallway, drawing his blade quietly.
Something changed. The air, calm and still, became tense and uneasy. Goosebumps ran down Abigail’s spine as a sense of dread filled every inch of her body.
She wasn’t the only one who felt the shift: Archibald stood closer to her, one hand his bow the other on her shoulder, his breath steady yet stiff. Oliver held his lute in a death grip, his fingers curved in anticipation and ready to pluck the strings at a moment’s notice.
“It’s coming” Oliver whispered carefully to the others, his gaze fixated on the hallway before them.
At first Abigail was unsure how the bard knew that: the house was dark and the dusty air swirling about made it hard to make out anything beside silhouettes of furniture and decor.
Then she heard it: Thud, thud, thud of uneven footsteps as the demon lumbered ever closer to the group. The scraping of wood against something seemed impossibly loud in Abigail’s ears as she tried to shove down her fear from bubbling out of her throat.
“What the hell….?” she murmured as the creature shuffled uneasily into the room.
Oliver scoffed “Yes it did come from hell. Thank you farm girl.”
“Even now? Seriously Oliver?”
“It’s how I cope.”
The demon was humanoid, 7 feet tall with splotches of bruising across its deep red skin. The form was a strange mixture of heavily muscular and malnourished. It wobbled into the room, its thinly skeletal left leg being dragged along uselessly. It flexed its thick muscles threateningly as it held a massive weighed club up with little effort. The demon studied the others with sunken flaming eyes, its skin loose and pulled over the skull like an ill fitting mask. The wispy strains of reddish black hair swayed back and forth.
Abigail’s throat dried as the room became warm and stuffy almost as if this creature’s presence alone corrupted the air around them.
Abigail coughed a little, trying to clear her airway from the heat “What is that thing?!”
“No idea.” Oliver shrugged, clearing his throat as well.
“I thought you knew everything!”
“Not even close farm girl.”
“Then why do you act like it?!”
Abigail snarled but before she could strike at the bard, she felt Archibald’s hand gently squeeze her shoulder. She turned to face him and saw him breathing deep and slow.
He was right. This was not time to let her feat lash out everyone around her. She needed to stay calm if they were going to get out of this in one piece.
The demon tilted its head curiously at the group before it. It spoke deep and gravelly with a tone that was questioning but no one knew what it was asking.
“Maybe it’s asking if we come in peace?” Abigail chimed in hopefully.
“Tis a beast from hell. Do you really think it is asking for peace?” Fen scolded harshly.
Abigail’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment “I can dream alright! It’s my first time dealing a demon from the 7th pit of hell! Forgive me if I’m holding on to childish questions cause I’m trying not to freak out here! It’s how I cope!”
The demon grumbled its question again eyeing each person carefully.
“Watch for its left hook.” Fen cryptically offered.
“What?”
The demon shrieked, rattling the house violently before reaching out with its left hand. Without warning, the arm stretched forward towards the group, the skin wrinkling and pulling loose.
Abigail froze as the sharp nails grasped wildly in her direction.
Archibald moved, shoving Abigail out of the way but ran straight into the hand’s grasp. It dug its claws into his armor though luckily it hadn’t manage pierce skin.
“Archie!” Abigail cried, fumbling uselessly for her knife.
Fen and Oliver jumped into action: As the arm pulled back to drag the helpless archer closer, Fen grappled Archibald, holding on with all his strength. Oliver pluck his lute with a dramatic flourish, gold musical symbols filling the air for a moment. Abigail flinched at the clashing notes played but the demon’s reaction to the dissonance was far more explosive: Its face contorted and recoiled as if it Oliver had physically attacked it. Its body shuddered and its claws loosened their grip. Fen jabbed his blade into the demon’s grip over and over again until it released its hold on Archibald.
Demon snarled hungrily as the arm snapped back into place.
“Archie, Archie I’m sorry I…” The words died in Abigail’s throat as he gave her a comforting smile.
“Don’t worry farm girl.” Oliver shouted, pulling at her cloak to get her moving “It happens but if you’re not good at fighting…”
“Get good at getting out of the way.” Abigail whispered back as she allowed the bard to pull her to the side.
Oliver faced Abigail questioningly “Oh you know the saying? That’ll save time.”
Abigail remained silent. Arthur used to tell her that when he joined the knights.
Fen pushed forward, sword drawn with Archibald close behind.
Archibald fired an arrow, attempting to cover Fen’s approach but it bounced harmlessly off the demon’s skin.
Fen lunged forward, swinging wide and cutting a deep gash across its chest but the beast countered, aiming its club towards the paladin’s head. He ducked, tucking under the demon’s outstretched arm and backing off.
“Oi paladin! Where’s your holier than thou smiting divine power?” Oliver called from behind a chair.
Fen didn’t reply, too busy deflecting the demon’s club with the flat of his blade. He drove his blade deep into the creature’s shoulder but the demonic entity ignored it completely. It gripped him tightly by the armor and lifted off his feet. Fen tried to push the sword deeper but it wasn’t slowing the demon.
The demon bent it shoulder in an uneven angle as it raised its club just above Fen’s head. It gave toothy smile, its fangs glistening in the dark while preparing to deal the finish blow.
It staggered backwards as an arrow struck its eye. It bounced off same as before but the demon was caught unaware and reacted instinctively.
Fen took his chance. He reached into his hood and smashed a vial of clear liquid across the stunned demon’s face.
It howled in pain as steam rolled off its burning face. The demon dropped Fen as it wildly flailed about, smashing anything nearby to splinters.
It shouted in its infernal tongue before crashing into the doorway, breaking a chunk of the wall off and retreating deeper into the house.
Archibald shakily leaned against the wall to catch his breath while Oliver approached Fen, his jaw tense with anger.
“What’s the big idea?” Oliver poked the paladin’s chest “What scam are you running?”
Fen’s face twisted in anger “Scam? How dare you speak to me like that!”
“Stow it.” Oliver snarled “You are not a paladin.”
Fen rose to full height, glaring with unrestrained rage “I AM A PALADIN! THE CHOSEN OF SOLIUS!”
“Former chosen.” Oliver spat out.
The anger drained out of Fen’s eyes only to be replaced by shame.
Oliver clenched his fist “I knew it. This isn't some mission for a higher power. This is a suicide run trying to get back in your god’s good graces! He renounced you, didn’t he?”
Abigail stood rooted in place “Is that a thing?”
“Yeah. It’s a two way street. You devote your life and existence to a god and they grant you the power to do so but if they happen not to agree with how you do things then bye bye divine magic. That’s why he wasn’t smiting it with holy energy.”
Fen said nothing.
“God this is why I hate paladins.” Oliver fumed “You act better than anyone but you’re as a big a sham as me!”
“I am nothing like you.”
“You lost all rights to your high horse pal. Now what’s the plan?”
“The plan?” Fen repeated in confusion.
“Yes focus.” Oliver replied “The plan to deal with the demon. I assume you have one or did you come in here expecting to kill it with your normal boring self?”
Fen scoffed “I am not completely brain dead. Of course I have a plan.”
“Which is?”
“The seal.” Fen awkwardly started “If we can strengthen the seal, we can weaken the demon enough to put it to sleep.”
Oliver rubbed his eyes “And of course you don’t know where it is.”
“It is well hidden for a reason.”
Oliver let out a tired sigh.
“We’ll help” Abigail jumped in “We can’t let that thing escape into the Underground.”
“And we don’t want to die.” Oliver chimed in.
“That too."
Archibald looked uneasy but resigned. This wasn’t what he signed up for but he really didn’t have a choice.
Fen raised an eyebrow “And that is it? You’ll do it out of the goodness of your heart, bard?”
“Of course not” Oliver admitted “But the sooner we get this done, the sooner I don’t have to deal with you.”
“Finally we are agreed” Fen murmured.
Abigail sighed “I wish I didn’t have to deal with Oliver anymore.”
Oliver clapped his hand together, completely ignoring Abigail “Alright, let’s see what we’re working with. How many vials of holy water do you have left?”
Fen blinked in surprise “Three but how did you…?”
“Don’t bother.” Abigail mouthed.
“Alright. Give them to Archie. He can dip his arrows in them.” Fen rolled his eyes sarcastically “And what will I use oh great amazing leader? My sword is not enough to slay the beast and I need time to apply the water as well.”
Oliver stepped closer, staring eye to eye with the paladin as he pushed his lute into his hands “If you lose this, I will kill you.”
“And what am I suppose to do with this? Play a song about friendship and love? Overcharge for a children’s rhythm?” Fen mocked.
“No you idiot.” Oliver pulled away “You beat him back to hell with it.”
Fen stared at him utterly lost.
Oliver knocked on the surface of the lute “It’s magic.”
Fen couldn’t contain his surprise despite his loathing of the bard
“Your lute is magic?”
Oliver rolled his eyes “Yes. It’s not a sword or a spear but at least you’ll be able to hurt him some. At least enough for me and farm girl to find the seal.”
“Me and who now?” Abigail shook her head “Wait, your lute is magic? Why is that important?”
“Demons are naturally resistant to mortal weapons” Fen explained as he held the lute aloft, getting a feel for its weight “It would be like attacking them with a butter knife, Painful but ultimately an empty gesture. But magic, whether spells or items imbued, can bypass their nature. Holy magic would be ideal hence the holy water.”
“But we work with what we got.” Oliver finished “And can you fight farm girl?”
Abigail shifted her foot shamefully.
Oliver snapped his finger “No. Don’t do that. Nothing wrong with not knowing how to fight. I don’t.”
“But you know magic!” Abigail argued “That’s more than me.”
“Look I don’t like you.” Oliver admitted “But beating yourself up isn’t going to save us. Yes I know magic but I’m not going to be tossing fire or lightning out of my fingertips. That’s not how my magic works. Finding that seal is just as important as Archibald’s and Fen’s job.”
Abigail glanced towards Archibald. His face was grim but determined.
“What’s your job Archie?” Abigail asked gently, unable to keep the worry out of her voice.
Archibald punched a fist into his hand.
“You’re planning on fighting? That thing?”
Archibald nodded firmly.
“Archie, you can’t be serious! What if it hurts you? I promised Cecilia I’d keep you safe! Archie…”
Abigail stopped as the archer wrapped his arms tightly around her. It was warm and gentle. Tears formed in her eyes. It felt nice to be hugged again. She hadn’t been hugged in such a long time she forgot how calming it was.
He pulled away, giving her a soft smile.
Abigail still wasn’t happy with the situation but there was little choice left.
“Alright.” Oliver spoke with an edge of finality “While you two keep the demonic asshole distracted, me and farm girl will find the seal and try to strengthen it.”
“Farm girl and I” Abigail corrected.
“Seriously?”
“No, I wanted to mess with you. It’s how I cope.”
Oliver glared “We need to move fast. Once the seal is strengthen we’ll need to make a break for the exit as soon as possible because I am not dealing this place longer than I have to.”
“Do you even know how to strengthen ancient seals?” Abigail asked
“No idea but I’m a quick study.” Oliver admitted.
Abigail glanced out the grime covered windows “That’s not very comforting. And what if those shadowy creatures are out there still?”
“That’s a for later problem. Let’s focus on one life or death situation at a time.”
“Fun” Abigail replied glumly “I’m really enjoying my time in the underground guys.”
“That’s the spirit farm girl!
“I hate you so much right now.”
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alessandriana · 4 years
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I make no apologies for the massive amount of The Untamed/MDZS content I have queued up. I finally finished the drama and I'm just fucking gone on this series.
(My fellow h/c fen, seriously, you have GOT to watch it. And read the novel. It's pure catnip.)
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oncethrown · 7 years
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2x15 Reaction: Hope and Boobs
This Episode Was Amazing 
(except for one consistent problem) 
And I’m So Excited 
(but seriously you fuckers need to commit to fixing this one thing)
This was the best episode of the entire show so far, and is a clear indication that everything is going up from here. With the exception of the Jace/Valentine exchange, and the couple seconds of Isabelle giving orders, every scene in this episode was about characters talking to each other, and deepening relationships while still advancing plots multi-episode plots which didn’t take over the character stuff. It makes the show feel more anchored and real, like you can finally really sink your teeth into it.
I wrote a big long ask reply yesterday about how I’m optimistic about the new characters, because it signals that the writers are working toward a perfect ensemble mix, and I feel like this episode completely bears that hypothesis out. This was the first true ensemble episode the show has managed, that worked in the majority of the characters, involved all of them in an A, B, or C plot and didn’t short shrift anyone. Everyone got something real to work with and had an important conversation with a key person that both did something with their storyline, and highlighted something about their relationship with the other person. That. Is. Amazing.
And everything built on what came before. This show is still totally within a reasonable time frame to be finding it’s feet and maturing, and this episode was absolutely that point where the path becomes gravel on it’s way to being paved and solid.
This episode also had a feeling like the production team, writers, actors and directors have finally gelled. It’s a massive stylistic improvement over even the last episode.
But Seriously, Write More Women that Don’t Make Me Hate You
However… Shadowhunter’s treatment of women is still pissing me off, (though I have super high hopes for Aline and Izzy after this episode).
The Bleeder Den basically being a sex club full of women in lingerie was lazy and cliche as hell. Simon’s entire storyline revolving around a fridged blond, was also lazy and cliche as hell.
Clary’s inability to go a full scene without crying about a boy makes me want to slap her, and then slap everyone who wrote that scene. I’m really truly sick of all this bullshit. I understand that the writers are constrained by the books, which are popular directly because of all that bullshit, and that their hands are, to an extent, tied and I believe that they are working on it, and that’s why I’m still excited to watch every week.
Clary-wise, I will begrudgingly accept that they need to do some book bullshit first. Because they are racing through the book plot at a break neck pace, and I am willing to believe that at some point, someone will want the lead of their show to be something other than a skinny red-headed version of the average american 13 year old’s diary (back in the 90’s before teenage girls were encouraged to do or be anything other than basically vending machines that money (and possibly sex) would come out of if you put enough boy bands into them first). But right now? It’s not promising, and Clary-the-theoretical-lead being such a dumpster fire makes it that much more enraging when they through in a collage of pointless boobs.
I understand that this isn’t a completely black and white issue, cause the male characters are occasionally pretty shirtless, but there is a difference between girls coming in to audition for “Boobs in Club One, Two and Three” and “Featured Boobs In Club” and that fact that they find some very thin reasons to get Alberto and Matt out of shirts.
Boobs vs. Pecs
1. The Panning Shot
This is really the main thing. The camera consistently runs over Izzy’s body like it’s initiating awkward foreplay with her. It does the same thing to Boobs 1, 2, and 3. The camera presents shirtless men, it caresses semi-naked women. It makes me nauseous and the directors who do it should all be hit with a fish, left gaping at the absurdity of being hit with a fish, and then be hit with a much larger fish.
2. Alberto, Matt, and Harry are prominently featured in the social media featuring working out and fight training .When they are shirtless, there is an element of congratulations in the way they are framed. This awesome dude worked so fucking hard and look at the artisan abs they have cultivated in our boutique gym.  “Boobs In Club” are a standing expectation that these girls fulfill, and Kat and Emeraude’s workouts are not marketed in the same way.
3. Harry’s only extended shirtless scene wasn’t sexualized. Alec doesn’t walk into that scene dumbfounded at the sight of him, and Magnus is doing tai-chi magic. It’s almost filmed aesthetically. Beautiful Magnus, in Magnus’s beautiful loft, doing beautiful magic with our new beautiful budget that we want to make a point of. Also, there’s an element of showing off with Harry in this scene not related to his body alone- Harry’s a dancer, the quality of movement he brings to Magnus is amazing, and they are showcasing that talent, not just his bulldozing shoulders.
3. Alec is (with one exception) Incidentally Shirtless. Alec takes off his shirt to access his parabatai rune in over half of the instances he’s shirtless. He’s shirtless for plot, and they don’t do any aching panning shots of him. Also, whenever he and Magnus touch each other, they are showing as little skin as humanely possible. Their first kiss? They are both in full suits. The date? Jackets. That face grabbing kiss? Sweaters. At this rate Alec might be allowed to touch Magnus’s butt while they are both in parka’s sometime in season four. Look at the difference between Izzy crawling into bed with Meliorn in heels and lingerie, and Alec waking up in Magnus’s silk sheets. It’s a very different scene.
The one time the camera is trying not to beat off to Alec is when he’s working out shirtless and Magnus comes in to give him a file, and that pan is very clearly from Magnus’s perspective (while he’s dressed like a Victorian trying to ward off the devil) and it’s a very quick pan.
We are shown Matt, Alberto and Harry semi-clothed, we are sold Kat, Emmeraude, and Random Boobs semi-naked.
4. And then there’s Dom.
I would be remiss if I didn’t mention the fact that they film Dom like a sirloin steak in an ad for a restaurant that does not sell sirloin steak.
The camera pans over Dom and makes him flirt with it in a scene where Clary is left speechless at the sight of him. It makes it very clear that he is naked while he is boobs adjacent, and then leaves him naked talking to a dissaproving Alec. While he’s imprisoned, his shirt hangs off of him like maybe, just maybe, he might have boobs.
And his body is also strung semi-naked on chains and made a site of violence and penetration.
This is a problem because Jace is the most feminized male character.
I can hear your thoughts. You are thinking “Magnus wears makeup” “Alec is an awkward virgin” “Simon is sweet and nerdy”
Sorry. Everything about Magnus comes back to his power. Circle members in his club? He evicts them with arrogance and magic. Evil Shadowhunter Villainess tries to derune his friend? Defeats her with shiny new law-powers. Drug Dealer in his bar? Gets him the fuck out with a smirk and a couple pointed remarks. And he is fucking ripped, and his magic is a very physical power. Masc as fuck kiddos.
Everything Alec does comes down to paternalistic protection and inherent leader-ness. He has to take care of Jace, he has to take care of the girl Jace likes, he has to save the Institute from the Inquisitor’s racism, he creates a downworld council full of grown ass men way more politically experience than he is and holds his own. They repeat at least once an episode that he’s a natural leader. It shouldn’t, but that codes masculine too.
Simon is always the sweet nerd— but he’d been on screen for less than a minute before he was a sweet nerd with killer abs. He’s had more sex than anyone on the show. He’s in a band. He’s the only one with a car. His father figure/mentor is the manliest man on the show. He pretends to be a serial killer and get shot 10 times. A lot of bullshit manliness boxes get checked by Simon Lewis.
Jace’s storylines revolve around the go-tos of lazy female writing— abuse and romance. He also uses sex (or the promise of sex) to get things (to be fair, mostly in the books) and even though Magnus has 17,000 exes and Simon pulls it’s only when Jace gets promiscuous that the storyline judges him a little. Other men have sex because they want to, Jace has sex because he has daddy issues.  Yet another bullshit feminine trope for the one guy the camera tries to hump.
Back To Women: This Time with Optimism
Interestingly, while Clary is at her most insufferable, Izzy and Aline rise.
Aline comes across as very mature, and I love all the little last lingering shots they give her, of her knowing that she is being misled in some way. Also, everyone is thrilled to see her, and the writer’s stroke in as quickly as possible that she is a woman with real connections to the main characters. She and Real Sebastian clearly had a very strong relationship. She knows him, she can tell he’s different, and apparently they were close enough for him to be trusted with her secret about her sexuality. She and Izzy get a totally unnecessary scene together, that just demonstrates that they like and respect each other, and are most likely long distance friends. That is the fucking best.
I was not a big fan of Izzy’s yin fen plot line, but I really appreciate how they are using it moving forward. She’s there to vouch for Evil Sebastian, she’s been matured in a way that makes her fit into the ensemble of Alec and Jace a little easier and now every time she’s put in charge of something, like training Max or leading the mission to transport Valentine, it reinforces that she is smart and competent and deserves it. Especially because her confidence in her abilities is solidifying. She went from “I’m not sure I can teach my little brother shadowhunting” to “Hell yes I will transport our biggest villain to our biggest prison, and I will do a great job and I will look amazing”
Clary didn’t suck in this episode. They gave her character a goal, and Kat gave a much better performance. Also… it was acknowledged that her story wasn’t the most important thing going on, and so it wasn’t given undue time, freeing up everyone else to have interesting plots and creating a nicer balance. Another sign of a solid ensemble being set up.
(But Also where the fuck are Maia and Maryse?)
Live Reactions:
Oh god. They are really going to do this intro every time.
Oh hey! An ENTIRE FUCKING ROOM FULL OF HYPERSEXUALIZED WOMEN EXCHANGING SEX FOR DRUGS. FUCK YOU FOR THIS SHADOWHUNTERS!
That was a weird blink and you miss it sort of scene. But kudos to Will. It takes a great actor to make meaning in a short scene with no dialogue.
Bed head Alec is cute.
Listen to Izzy! Don’t pursue this plot! Go find Maia!
Izzy is back! Authority! Smarts! Let me love her, don’t fuck up/kill/disappear all your women Shadowhunters, goddamnit!
I want to like this scene between Clary and Simon. The direction is great, the lighting is great. Alberto’s choice to go quiet angry is bringing a maturity to this exchange that I didn’t expect… but I’m not invested in this at all and it just makes it aggravatingly over dramatic for a boring 6 episode episode to finally end when we always knew it was coming.
That was a gorgeous exterior shot. Unfortunately, it was by itself much more interesting than the previous scene.
This dialogue is agonizing. It sounds like CC actually wrote it and Dom and Alan are struggling to act it because it’s just so bad.
See, this Simon Luke scene is perfect. This is the kind of scene that would have been amazing between Clary and Luke, especially after Jocelyn was killed, if Kat was capable of creating believable character relationships.
This Izzy Alec scene is the kind of character scene that has been missing all season, and putting this back to back with the Luke/Simon stuff is make the whole show feel more anchored and mature.
Mentor adult Luke is a fantastic direction for this character, and I super wish we had seen this earlier.
This scene of Izzy giving orders is perfect for two reasons: 1. Leader Izzy is so important on a show full of nameless boobs (fuck you shadowhunters) and 2. We are finally getting an episode that is not drowning in plot, and they were able to push the big plot-y thing forward with a quick flash while finally highlighting character driven scenes. This is  a big deal, this has been Shadowhunter’s other defining flaw all season.
Super manipulative Sebastian is great. I feel bad for real Sebastian, because you know he must have felt like garbage giving everything up to fake Sebastian, even Aline’s big secret in a world where Alec Lightwood is the only openly gay member of their entire species.
Yes! Run real sebastian! Run!
So much Alley sex in this show.
Oh shit.
Making Luke a cop was a fucking genius move on the writer’s behalf. Absolutely fucking brilliant.
Alberto is really good in this scene.
Oh… I just realized he was turning himself in. Of course he didn’t have to stay in that car. Oh, Simon.
Oh good. Boob time.  The screen is dark, but these are all straight shadowhunters. Worth noting. This is such fucking bullshit. There were other ways to do this. Also, fuck you shadowhunters. Hire one fucking director who isn’t a filthy pervert.
(I kind of feel like an unfair equivalence might be being made between kink and murder-y deviancy... but that is so far out of my lane I’m not going to explore it)
Ughhh. At least when Quinn says “some sluts might die” Simon is like “No, we fridged a real person for my character development! She had a name, and was the source of my man pain for a full 5 minutes!”
For all the bullshit that is part of this plot, Simon’s plot during this episode is a super good example of a character entering into this world and not knowing the rules, and then having a whole story about learning to adapt. It’s the story Clary would have, if the writers would 1. Give her a goal 2. Let her actions have consequences.
The acting in this Alec/ Magnus scene is fabulous, the dialogue is fine, the lighting and directing are noticeably fantastic. And it’s fit into the overall narrative really well.
Oh! Oh Shit! Izzy and Aline just passed the Bechdel test! It’s a fucking miracle.
This glamour is not going to work, and it’s going to be so good when Ollie gets back on this. Also, Luke and Raphael working together is great, and yet another example of why this is the best episode. I said that I was getting excited about the way that this show was starting to create a real ensemble, and they are finally doing it well! Yay! Excited!
Clary isn’t the worst in the B plot. AND! They gave her a goal for this episode, (achieve Simon’s forgiveness) and Kat is actually pulling it off. I’m not rolling my eyes every time she speaks. I dig it. Keep doing it.
Well. This camera work doesn’t bode well. Slow motion villains are never a good sign.
Duncan is bad shit. Calling it now.
I’m a genius.
Oooohhhhhhhhh. Yes. This exactly what I wanted. Sebastian has to replace Valentine, Valentine is such a weak villain.
Well. I was not expecting that demon face thing.
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calamity-writes · 7 years
Text
Glory and Gore 5.1
Rahlen, annoyingly, had avoided Fenlin throughout a full day's worth of training, two meals, and somehow Fenlin found herself being pushed back into her cell for the night without having had a chance to try to talk to him. Or gesture at, since her voice was still gone, taken by a spirit in exchange for enough knowledge to keep him alive.
But now he kept calling someone else over to interrupt Fen whenever there was a spare moment and now Fen huffed, sitting on her cot with a glare at the stone floor. What had happened? She didn't understand. Compounding the problem was Athim acting like it was the funniest thing ever to pretend that they were together. Draping his arm around her and pulling her into his sweaty chest. He knew that the arena kiss... it had been to try to keep Polonius happy.
The night of the fight, that- that was more complicated. What else was she supposed to do? Athim had changed, but he was still the same person, she knew he didn't take any of it seriously. He was just... so different from the boy she remembered.
Fenlin felt alone for the first time in a long time. Even on her own at the coast, she hadn't felt alone the way she did now. Heat pricking her throat, Fenlin ran her fingers along the golden chain along her throat. Whether it was faith she had learned her place, or a reward for being a good little slave and earning money the night before, the heavier collar hadn't made a return.
She waited, sitting stock still on her cot, until she could hear the snores of the other gladiators in the barracks. Silently, she slipped off her cot and crept to the iron bars of her cell to poke her head through and look along the hall. The guards at the end were playing cards, wicked grace maybe. As far as she could remember, they didn't do rounds at night, but ensured that no slaves grew rowdy.
Fenlin pulled back, ears catching painfully on the iron bars. Laying on the straw mattress, she closed her eyes and pulled at the magic in the air, shifting her mass and body into that of a mouse.
Mouse-fenlin sniffed at the air, her white fur standing out against the rough sheets that she sat on. White and brown, the little mouse scampered down from the cot and peeked out between the now massive iron bars of the cell door.
The guards were drinking and staring at their hand of cards. One rubbed his chin. Ruffling her whiskers, Fen scampered out into the hall, hugging the wall as she looked for a very certain cell. One with a Prince in it. It sounded like some children's story, a mouse looking for a Prince to try to save him.
Fen rustled her whiskers again, this time in annoyance at the thought. In a children's story, there would be a happy ending. At best, this would end with Hanin and Rahlen's freedom, and Fenlin might have a quick death. That was the best outcome. She tried not to think about the worst, even as a mouse. Finding the door, the mouse hopped inside and stopped, lifting up on her hind feet to peer around the cell.
There were two cots in this one, though one was empty and the other- mice couldn't blush, but Fenlin would have if it had been possible. White hair and pointed ears where buried into Rahlen's lap, and the prince's head was tilted back with an expression of pleasure. The sounds Fenlin could hear with her large ears were lewd, the stifled groans were deafening, and she was stuck for a moment, unsure whether to run or to stay and try to wait until they were done.
After a few rapid mouse-heartbeats, Fenlin realised they weren't about to be done anytime soon. She lowered onto all fours and fled the cell, heading back towards her own.
No wonder Rahlen had been avoiding her, he'd- with- of course he would. Hanin was more his class anyways. She was just a swamp witch who couldn't talk, and even if she could, would just end up alienating anyone anyways. THe mouse hesitated at the cell door to her own cot, then continued on, scrabbling down the hall to the largest of the cells, where Athim was.
Wary, Fenlin looked around, reaching up on her hindquarters to see if her friend had any company. This was still the boy who'd blushed when she'd kissed his cheek, wasn't it? Fenlin wasn't sure anymore. The impulsive peck felt like it was a life time ago, two dumb kids sitting by a creek, and never spoken of again.
Wiggling her nose, Fenlin scampered up onto the cot where Athim lay, one arm draped over his eyes. He was, thankfully, alone. Shifting back to her natural form, Fenlin reached out and nudged him. Hey. Hey. Wake up.
He started, sitting up so quickly that he slammed his forehead into hers, and Fenlin clutched her face, sucking in a breath.
"F-fen?" he muttered, hissing between his teeth. He was holding his nose. "Whad are you doink here?"
She rubbed her forehead, then- she didn't have a good reason. She just- she'd wanted to sort things out with Rahlen, although she wasn't sure what she would have tried to do. He didn't mind whatever, he was... busy. Instead of trying to communicate any of that, Fenlin shoved Athim's chest.
You left. She tried to gesture, pointing at him, then flicking her hand as though throwing something to the side. You left. And he'd never written, never let her know if he was okay. She shoved his chest again, angrier this time. The water in her eyes only half due to the elf in front of her.
You left. I thought you were dead.
She tried to get the meaning across, but halfway through she just threw her arms around him and held on tight, like he might disappear. Again. Everyone left. Nils, Athim, Rasha. And now Fenlin had left her mother alone, unable to find out where her last child had ended up.
Athim, to his credit, seemed to get most of it before she dissolved into silent tears. Fenlin felt his arms curl around her and she weakly thumped her fist against his side. Survival had kept her going, then trying to sort out whatever was going on, but now, under the cover of darkness, she wasn't able to shove away the feelings of betrayal any longer.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, rocking her slowly. Like she'd done to him once when he'd fallen from the tree, bruising his knee so badly he couldn't walk right away. Soothing, gentle whispers and hugs.
But this wasn't a bruise, this wasn't fixable with cold water and the Keeper's gentle touch. THis.... this... Fenlin wasn't sure if this situation was even fixable.
"What happened to your voice?" he asked, stroking her hair. "You didn't get hurt,  you didn't actually take an oath, did you?"
Fenlin shook her head, eyes wet against his shoulder. She pulled back, pointing down the hall, then to Athim's thigh, where Rahlen's scar now was. She mimed putting her hands over it to heal, then gestured what she hoped symbolized a trade, one hand pushing out, the other pulling towards her.
"You traded it," he said quietly. Fenlin nodded. "To a spirit to heal the Ferelden's leg." Fenlin nodded again, this time more emphatically. She wiped at the tears on her cheeks with her palm, but she wasn't done crying just yet.
"He doesn' know," Athim added. Fen nodded again.
"Is he- are you two- was he your first?" Athim asked gently. Almost as though he was asking who her first kiss was. Fenlin's ears burned, and she looked away, shaking her head. It took more courage than she thought she had to look up at him, and touch the centre of his chest.
You were.
"Oh, shit, Fen, why didn't-" he said. She shook her head. What other options were there? If she hadn't gone along with it, there would have been Favus waiting, or worse. And, there were worse people to be with. At least she knew Athim.
"I didn't know."
Fenlin shrugged. Why would he? It wasn't like she would have mentioned it even if she'd been able to talk. She sniffed, wiping her cheeks again. She made to stand, to leave, but Athim caught her and pulled her back into a hug.
"Don't go just yet," he said. "I know you're not okay."
Fen gave him a watery smile.
What gave him that idea?
"How's your brother?" He asked.
Gone, another flick of her wrist.
"...Rasha?"
A flick of the wrist.
"Your mamae?" Athim asked cautiously. Fen mimed a scowl and flexed before dissolving into silent tearful giggles.
"Same as ever then," Athim said with a breathful of laughter. He reached up to wipe some of the tears from her cheek. "You grew up to look like her, you know. Just less scary."
Fen bared her teeth in a mock growl.
"Oh, sorry," Athim said, "Just as scary. Forgive me." He leaned in, kissing the bruise developing on her forehead. Fenlin slipped her arms around him again, just- just needing physical contact that didn't involve sparring or some sort of threat.
She didn't know what she'd thought, going to try to talk to Rahlen. What had she thought would happen? That he'd be so grateful she'd saved his life that he'd... what? He'd kissed her while high on pain killing elfroot, and he'd been nice because she'd been helping him. Now, now she wasn't as useful and there was a more important elf that was closer at hand.
Fenlin just wanted to chase away the feelings, all of them. Unfortunately, becoming Tranquil was permanent, and she wasn't ready to commit to a life of numbness. But a night, a night she could do. Wanted it, desperately, actually. No more creeping dread of knowing she'd die in a land far from home. No sharp fear of being the reason a Prince died at the hands of a Magister. No grief at the thought of her mother being alone.
Fenlin kissed Athim. This time it was different than in the arena. Still needful, just... more questioning. Was this okay? Would he be okay if...? She pulled back, looking at him. Hugs and gentle rocking could only help so much.
"Are you sure?" he asked, tucking a stand of hair behind her ear. Fenlin nodded. When he kissed her back, he pulled her down onto the cot with him. At least she would be tired when she crawled back to her cot later.
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Text
Liabilities Ch 1
Rowaelin Best Friends High School Au
“Shit” Rowan swore, diving out of bed. A horn sounded twice from outside his bedroom window. “I’m coming Aelin.” He yelled, struggling to find pants and a shirt. Why was him room suddenly so messy. He popped a piece of mint gum in his mouth, grabbed his school bag, and bounded down the stairs two at a time. Just like him to be late on the first day of senior year. He slipped into a pair of sneakers and ran out the door, not bothering to lock it behind him.
“There you are.” A voice said from in front of him. Rowan’s face broke into a grin and he jogged over, sliding into the seat beside Aelin Galanthynius. She smiled at him and something in his chest tugged at the life dancing in her eyes.
“It’s the first day,” she told him, “You couldn’t have set an alarm or anything.”
He shot her an incredulous look. “I did set an alarm. I just ended up snoozing it.” She leaned over and hit him in the arm and he flinched dramatically. Laughing, she started the car.
They drove for twenty minutes, Aelin going on about some dream the entire time. By the end, Rowan had fallen in love with her all over again. How could you not? She was by far the most beautiful girl at Terrasen High, if not in the entire world. Her wavy blonde hair was hypnotizing, and he often found himself staring far too long at the blue, green, and gold in her eyes.
She parked the car and got out, giving Rowan a full view of her outfit. She was wearing black combat boots, fishnet tights, a tiny black mini skirt, a cropped band tee and a leather jacket. Her style was one of the things he liked most about her. She wasn’t afraid to show a ton of skin, even if it drove him mad with desire. Still, he pushed all his feelings down. Aelin was the best thing he had going on in his life, and him for her. He wouldn’t risk ruining that. She handed him her books to hold momentarily as she fixed her hair in the mirror. He resisted telling her that she looked perfect
The yard was filled with teens mulling about. People lounged on rocks and threw footballs back and forth. Beside him, Aelin screamed and ran towards a ground leaning against the school’s brick wall. Her cousin Aedion ran out to greet her, pulling her into a bear hug. He looked so much like her, the other side to a golden coin. They pulled away and Aelin tugged another girl into a hug. From a few meters back, Rowan could just make out the small hands and long brown hair. Lysandra then. They held each other for a moment before separating. Lysandra whispered something in Aelin’s ear that had her bursting into laughter. She stepped back to survey the last two males. Practically opposites, Rowan noticed. Fenrys’ long blonde hair and sharp cheekbones made him a strikingly handsome male. His eyes twinkled with mischief and his lips were always frozen in a half smirk. Lorcan on the other hand, was massive. A few inches taller than Rowan himself. His features were granite hewn and his dark hair brought out the onyx in his eyes. Although smiles were rare with him, one was currently tugging at his lips as he took in the golden-haired girl bouncing on the soles of her feet in front of him. Sighing, he wrapped her in a hug, his large frame covering her almost completely. Fenrys joined them, and despite the look Lorcan shot him, all three of them were smiling.
“I missed you guys.” She laughed, attempting to back out of their crushing embrace.
“We missed you too little A.” Fenrys told her, finally backing away. “I wanted to stay in the city but Lorcan insisted on dragging me on a tour of Europe for crying out loud.”
Lorcan laughed, his voice deep. “You had fun.” He told Fenrys. “One night he even got stupid drunk and told me he loved me more than sex.”
Fenrys groaned and Aelin laughed happily. “I would’ve paid good money to see that.” She replied.
“Oh I don’t know.” Fenrys said, nudging her. “I heard you and Rowan hung out all summer long, 24/7.”
Aelin laughed, even as Rowan tried to fight the blush from his cheeks. It was no secret to Fen and Lorcan that he was in love with his best friend. God’s even Lysandra and Aedion knew. He didn’t much care so long as Aelin remained in the dark.
Aelin turned towards him and stood on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “See you at lunch.” She said, grabbing Lorcan and tugging him towards the other building. They had math together first period.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Fenrys laughing at him. “What.” Rowan snapped at him.
Fenrys put his hands up. “Nothing man. Nothing at all.”
“Whatever.” Rowan muttered and headed to the science building.
He tried to ignore Fenrys, who caught up to him in a few seconds. “So did you guys fuck?” His friend asked.
Rowan’s face went bright red. “No we didn’t. Why the fuck would you ask that.”
“Well I mean you guys were together like all summer long. Drinking, bikinis, late nights. You’re seriously telling me that you guys didn’t even drunkenly make out.” Fenrys laughed as he noticed the grimace on his face. “I mean me and Lorcan even made out sloppily in a bar in Italy.”
Rowan laughed despite trying not to. “No, we didn’t sleep together. Although I’m pretty sure she had sex with every other male in the city.”  
“What.” Fenrys asked.
Rowan sighed. There was no harm in admitting it to his closest male friend. “Well you know Sam died at the end of last year. Although she pretends, this summer wasn’t great for her. Lots of alchohol and drugs, sex with random guys every night. I tried to help her, get her to talk to me, but whenever I brought it up, she’d get mad at me. So eventually I stopped trying.”
Fenrys shook his head. “Shit man that sucks I’m really sorry.”
“It’s fine.” He lied. They walked the rest of the distance in comfortable silence.
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olderthannetfic · 7 years
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Sorry if this question is ageist. But why do older fen (50 yrs+) against newer zine publishers? I see so many complaints about no one making fanzines anymore, but yet they refuse to acknowledge or work with newer publishers. Wouldn't the Fannish Generation Gap close if people on both sides worked together?
Oh, nonnie, why do you always ask me this stuff with no name attached? I get the feeling you want me to say something rude that you can take back to Zinelist and try to get me in trouble for.
To put it simply, there is no single, massive generation gap in fandom. Fans who are 50+ are plentiful on tumblr. Fans who like oldschool media fandom fanzines are here too. Some of them are actively participating in new zines, whether contributing or just buying.
The gap that I have seen is a gap that happens all the time, and it’s not about generations: it’s about being left behind.
Once upon a time, I am told, zine publishers were a Big Deal, and being a prominent zine ed was one of the fastest paths to being a seriously important BNF. There were a lot of people who spent the 80s and 90s clawing their way to the top of the fannish heap. Zines became more and more and more about fic and less about art because that’s what the market wanted. Zines became longer and more physically unwieldy because, again, the market demanded as much fic as possible. Postage became ruinously expensive. Media Fandom diversified, going from a focus on a few megafandoms to demanding a place for multifandom zines and tons of mid-size or even small fandoms, so print runs dropped to the point where those wretched comb bindings were a good option. 
And just when a bunch of pan-fandom BNFs who were at the top of their game had bought a bunch of expensive binding equipment or figured out the right formula to reliably please their audience, the internet came along and curb-stomped all that.
“Where have the zines gone?” means two things in my experience:
1. Fans who are just consumers and who are relatively monofannish and OTP-focused have a hard time moving with the times. The Starsky & Hutch or Professionals fan of today is the Destiel or Stucky fan of tomorrow. Sure, you can read only the great novel-length fic that is specifically recommended to you, but one day, your ship will quiet down enough that you’ll have to make your own party. If you’re the kind who just moves on to the next juggernaut, you’re set. If you’re the kind who has a couple of OTPs and sticks with them for decades, you’re screwed.
Yes, there are new zines on Tumblr, but they’re rarely for the fandoms that were popular for Media Fandom zines in the 80s and 90s.
2. Fans who were big name publishers want new fans to submit to their zines and to buy their zines. They want their names and reputations to be respected. Most of Tumblr will never have heard of the cons they used to go to, much less the fannish pseuds of older zine publishers.
If they wanted to buy new zines, they’d be set, but they don’t: they want to sell zines to a new audience, and this requires social ties on Tumblr that take time and effort to make.
Another problem is the art vs. fic issue: Most zines I see advertised on Tumblr have a lot of art in them. It may be narrative art (i.e. comics), or they may be purely artbooks, or they may have a lot of fic in amongst the art, but they cannot be made except by a zine publisher who has the backing of artists. Because of that, they must also maintain a certain level of physical quality to be worth buying.
If you’re just a consumer, that’s great! I’ve never even seen Hannibal, and I still bought a bunch of copies of RAW. For a very cheap price, I got a lovely, professional-looking product.
If you’re a zine-maker, it’s intimidating, especially if you’re someone who was known for your fic or your ability to get great fic writers to submit to your zine. All of a sudden, your skills are no longer important. Your reputation has vanished.
I find that a certain number of oldschool zine people also honestly believe that zine eds are great structural and line editors, while betas are useless cheerleaders. This assumption is holding some people back. In their view, if younger fans would just give their product a chance, they’d see how superior it is and become a zine fan. My view is that the very worst online fic is worse than what you’ll find in zines, but everything else is exactly the same. Even if younger fans “gave zines a chance”, they might not find anything there to justify paying money for.
The trouble is that some zine publishers are treating it half like a business and half like a fandom project. Either one works, but not a hybrid.
If it’s a fun fandom project that has lots of community buy-in, or it’s just a thing you’re doing with your friends, then it’s reasonable to expect people to help you foot the cost. All of your buddies chip in for the copy shop fees, and then you hand-sew the bindings on your doujinshi, etc. It’s reasonable to expect people to be tolerant of crappy printing and a less than professional physical product.
If, on the other hand, you’re doing zines more like a business, you need to ask what the market wants. You need to ask what price the market is willing to pay for that product. In my experience, the average fan on Tumblr is not willing to pay very much but expects a highly polished product. Complaining that postage and printing costs are ruinous is irrelevant: these fans feel no and have no obligation to help a stranger make a zine. If it’s more fun than some cheap-ass romance novel ebook off Amazon or more tempting than the bazillion fics on AO3, they’ll buy. If not, they won’t.
Honestly, I think the “generation gap” is more about people who used to get what they wanted from fandom, who no longer do, and who are not willing or able to put in the large amount of work it would take to get those things back.
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