#ugly bitch how this white man can look so bad even BLOND and yet they let him play LESTAT AND DORIAN GRAY WTF

[vampsstan]

dorian honey i'm so sorry 😔 WTF IS THIS

[kirishibi]

Kindred Spirits | Bubaigawara Jin (Twice)

My contribution to the BNHArem flowers collab!

Flower: White Chrysanthemum, meaning loyalty and devoted love 

Summary: you were born with a quirk that allows you to temporarily take other peoples’ emotions, though it makes it nearly impossible to create your own. every day, you sit out on city sidewalks hoping for people to let you borrow their unwanted emotions. Used to only feeling things like guilt, shame, and disappointment, you find yourself pleasantly surprised when a kind stranger comes along and donates happiness

Pairing: Bubaigawara Jin (Twice)  x Reader

Warnings: No manga spoilers! jin smoking a cigarette, light cursing, pining, brief angst (hurt/comfort), sickeningly sweet fluff

Word Count: 4.1k

a/n: this is officially the longest single piece i’ve ever written and my back is feeling it. i’m so excited to have been able to participate in this collab, especially since I got to write one of my all time favorite characters! thank you so much @jojosmilktea​ for making the masterlist - you did a great job!

You sat against the brick wall of a quaint boutique in one of the busiest areas of the city, a frayed cardboard sign in your hands and rusted tin can beside your feet. The neat, permanent marker words on your sign read, ‘will take unwanted emotions for $’. 

Your practice wasn’t entirely legal since you didn’t have a license, but with villain activity rising rapidly in the area, you were the least of the local authorities’ worries. Your tin only held enough change for a protein bar from the corner store and your muscles ached, stiff from sitting in the same spot all day, yet you told yourself to wait a little longer. Maybe you’d get lucky. 

A bus rolled by, on its side an advertisement for some hero school at the edge of town, the tagline: ‘You, too, are destined for greatness!’ plastered in bold letters beside a photo of comically fake, smiling heroes. You couldn’t help but scoff as you watched the bus round a corner and disappear from sight, remembering the vain hope you held as a child seeing similar advertisements on T.V. Back then, you truly believed you would become a hero once you got your quirk - in fact, most kids your age did, excitedly awaiting the day they’d discover their unique “super power”. 

On your fourth birthday, your quirk came in and tore away any hope you had for the life of a hero. That day, you discovered that you could steal whatever emotion someone was feeling with the touch of your fingertips, taking it for yourself and leaving them without until your quirk wore off. The catch, however, was that it became incredibly difficult for you to feel any emotion without stealing it from someone else. 

Your quirk had a habit of activating involuntarily, so at a young age you began to wear gloves. It wasn’t long before rumors spread around your school that you were secretly a witch, or cursed, and you were bullied relentlessly from afar for the majority of your early life. 

The treatment only worsened as you grew to adulthood. 

In your world where heroes and super powers were commonplace, if your quirk was problematic or - god forbid - nonexistent, you were nothing but a stain on society, a weed in need of pulling. As a kid, you were reluctant to learn this fact, so life beat it into you. You learned a harsh reality very quickly - emotions became addicting once you were unable to feel them by yourself, and in desperate times, even the bad ones were better than nothing. Anything was better than nothing. Hardships hit you in waves until you had nowhere else to go, finding solace in a ramshackle apartment in the middle of the city, begging for unwanted feelings with a side of cash during the day, spending all night searching for a job on the web. 

Without a useful quirk, wealthy upbringing, or a desire to turn to villainy, this was your place in society. 

After around half an hour, you stood from your spot on the pavement with a disappointed huff, stretching your aching muscles for a moment before crouching to collect your things. “Excuse me!” A gruff voice called out from behind you, the words “Hey, bitch!” following closely after, without pause for you to respond. You thought you heard the person whisper a quiet ‘sorry’ before you whipped around, startled. 

You found a tall, blonde man standing at the edge of the sidewalk, his hands shoved in patched jean pockets and his broad shoulders hunched sheepishly, as if he wanted to occupy as little space as possible. The man shifted nervously while you looked him up and down. A large, vertical scar ran up the center of his forehead to just shy of his hairline, and dark blond stubble dotted his sharp jaw. The faint frown lines bordering his lips and creasing the space between his brows told you he’d likely endured a life similar to yours. Most people who spent their time on these streets had, and after a while the signs became easy to spot.

You cocked your head slightly to the side, raising a brow. “Can I help you?” You responded curtly. Living in such an unpredictable area had certainly not made you any kinder. 

“You have an emotion quirk, right?  I, uh, saw the sign. ‘was wondering if I could donate.” His gaze evaded yours even as he spoke, the man instead opting to watch as his frayed sneakers anxiously toed the ground.

You bent down, grabbing your change-filled tin from the sidewalk and jangling the coins within, wordlessly telling him your service wasn’t free. He stepped closer, huddling at the inner edge of the sidewalk with you, hugging the wall so as not to block the path of those trying to pass by. He pulled a crumpled two thousand yen bill from his pocket and handed it over with a timid smile. To any of the businessmen who walked by, the cash would have been no more than pocket change, but to you, it was a fortune. 

Your expression must have shown just how much his payment meant to you, as the man's smile grew wider, stretching to crease the corners of his eyes. He didn’t say anything, only watched as you stuffed the bill into your pocket for safekeeping, slipped off one of your tattered, cotton gloves and held out a bare palm. “Can I see your hand? It only works through touch.” As he slid a hand out of his pocket, you recited the same speech you gave to all of your customers: “Bring forth whichever emotion you’d like me to take from you - really make yourself feel it. I don’t get to choose what I take, so whatever’s at the forefront of your mind is what will be transferred. Effects can last anywhere between three to four hours. Oh, and no refunds. Any questions?”

He reached for your hand, but hesitated, his fingers hovering just shy of yours as he timidly asked. “Is any emotion okay, good or bad?”

You sighed, “Yeah, I don’t judge. Whatever it is, it’s better than nothing.” 

He nodded and laid a heavy, calloused palm atop your own. You braced yourself for what you had grown used to - feelings of disappointment, shame, anger, hopelessness; the most common feelings of the dejected businessmen who worked in the area and passed your spot regularly. 

As your quirk took effect, however, you didn’t experience any of those things. You felt the corners of your lips pulling into a grin entirely on their own, a joyous giggle bubbling in your throat and spilling from you before you could halt it. Your hands flew to your face, feeling your cheeks as they flushed pink from excitement. “Wh-what?” Was all you could manage in your surprised, giddy state. It had been months- no- years since you’d felt this way.

The man’s kind smile remained, though it no longer spread to his eyes. Like you, he seemed used to faking it. “I knew a kid with an emotion quirk growin’ up. He was a total loser. Uh- it made it harder for him to feel stuff on his own, so I wanted to...” He paused for a moment before timidly continuing, his next word hanging in his mouth as if unfamiliar to his lips “help. Just in case it was the same for you, ya ugly hoe.” With his joy depleted, embarrassment quickly took its place. The man’s teeth found his bottom lip as if to keep himself from saying more, and you thought you could see a faint blush spread along his cheekbones as he turned to leave. 

You were startled by the way his tone shifted so quickly, yet his actions had been kind. You couldn’t help but think, maybe his quirk knocked a few screws loose in his head, too. Much to your surprise, you found yourself wanting to talk to him more, or at least pay him back in some way, but the man had donated joy, not courage. 

“Thank you, sir!” was all you could manage as he made his way deeper into the city, the distance between you growing with each step. 

He waved in acknowledgement before pocketing his hand once again and turning off into a darkened alley.

---

For the first time in as long as you could remember, you awoke the next day feeling refreshed. You felt a slight bounce in your step as you made your way to your typical spot, treating yourself to a cold drink from the cafe along the way. Thanks to the kind stranger from the night before, you could finally afford a refreshing beverage to fend off the ever intensifying heat outside.

You didn’t quite know why, but the sun seemed to shine a little brighter as it rose along the horizon, the colors that sunrise painted across the skyline more vibrant than previous mornings. 

Your day went by fast, and soon enough dusk began to fall. The street lights surrounding you kicked on, signaling that it was once again time for you to pack up and return home. You stood, gathered your things, and turned to begin your journey back to your apartment when a vaguely familiar voice caught your attention, “Hey, wait up- get outta here!” 

It was him. 

You turned on your heel toward the sound of his voice, almost as surprised as when he showed up the night before. “You’re back?”

“Yeah, is that okay? Got a problem with me or somethin’?!” You watched him wince as the second set of words passed his lips. He gritted his teeth, shoulders tensing. Like before, he preferred to watch the ground between you rather than meet your gaze.

“It’s fine.” He glanced back up at the sound of your voice, and you flashed him a reassuring smile. The tension in his shoulders seemed to fade if only for a moment. “My regulars just tend to be angry white-collar businessmen, not, ya know...” You let your words trail off, unsure how to finish.

“Not people like you?” He filled in the blanks with ease, and you nodded in agreement. 

A comfortable silence spread between you for a moment before he cleared his throat, pulling another creased bill from his pocket. You realized your hands were too full to take the cash and moved to set your things down on the pavement, but the man reached out a tentative palm, “I can hold your sign for ya. I don’t wanna. I won’t take it. I will. I- I just don't want it gettin’ all dirtied up if it’s your only one.”

You hesitated, “You don’t have to be so nice. I’ve lived here long enough to handle myself.” 

“I believe you. Doubt it! But what kinda guy would I be if I didn’t try ta help out a sweet lady like you?”

His genuine kindness was entirely unexpected, but you saw no reason to be distrustful. After all, what use could he have for old, water damaged cardboard. You looked him over once more before handing him the already filthy sign and taking his payment with a newly emptied hand. You stuffed it in your pocket, slid off your glove, and held out an open palm like before. “Need me to debrief you again?”

“Yes, please!” His words betrayed him as he shook his head ‘no’. “I got it, thanks.”

Suddenly, you were grateful that you had figured out which of his voices to listen to, and which to ignore. He rested a large palm against your own. A second later, you felt sparks of joy ignite a fire within your chest. The blond’s touch suddenly felt pleasantly electric on your skin, and you allowed your hand to linger in his, reluctant to pull away. 

Glancing back up, you realized that he had been watching you. The tender warmth in his gaze never left as he slowly, hesitantly slipped his fingers from yours. He reached into his jeans’ back pocket, revealed a half empty pack of cigarettes, “Got time for a smoke?”

You began to refuse on instinct, but the words caught at the tip of your tongue. Again, you found that you didn’t want to part with him quite yet. Something about him caught your interest, generous donations aside. A finger tapped your chin as you pretended to ponder your decision, then shrugged, “Yeah, I think I’ve got some time.”

Shoulder to shoulder, you propped yourselves against the boutique’s wall. He offered a cigarette, to which you declined with a slight shake of your head. When you reached to take your sign back so that he could focus on lighting up, he simply swatted your hand away and tucked it under his arm. “Aye, let me be a gentleman. It’s mine!” 

Your chest felt fuzzy, heart fluttering. There was something beneath your good mood, something heavy and intoxicating that you’d never felt before, but you didn’t dislike it. Quite the opposite, in fact.  “You’re weird” you teased. 

“You’re weird” he responded without skipping a beat. There was another brief pause as he lit his cigarette, then spoke again “So, what’s your name, weirdo?”

You giggled, playfully jabbing an elbow to his side at the title, and he laughed with you. It had a deep, melodic timbre to it, hearty, disarming, and beautiful. You wondered how sweet the sound would be under normal circumstances, without your quirk draining him. “(Y/n). What’s yours?”

“None o’ ya business!” He rolled his eyes at himself, frustrated, then took a long drag from his cigarette. “Bubaigawara. You can call me Jin, though.”

“Jin Bubaigawara” You repeated his full name slowly, savoring the way it felt on your tongue, and grateful to finally be able to call him something other than ‘sir’.

“Sounds prettier coming from you, but yeah that’s it.”

At his words, warmth crept up your neck, dusting your cheeks a rosy pink, and tugging the edges of your lips into a shy smile. 

Jin felt different from the people you grew up with. He looked at you with eyes entirely void of judgement or distrust, and even if only for a moment, he made you feel like someone understood -- like someone cared.

Hours passed as you talked about everything, yet nothing in particular. The two of you took turns just chatting, occasionally asking questions back and forth. You told one another of how you discovered your quirks, shared stories from school, spoke of your families, or lack thereof. He didn’t explain the scar on his forehead, nor his split speech, but you didn’t think to ask, either. They were a part of him, made him who he was, and you realized that night that you really liked who he was.

---

For the most part, your days passed as they always did, with little business in the mornings and a few agitated corporate underlings stopping by around lunchtime to rid themselves of the bitter frustration their coworkers gave rise to. However, during your long periods of downtime, your thoughts began to wander. 

Typically, they wandered to Jin. 

Often, as you got bored, you found yourself scanning passing crowds for a tall blond with tired yet kind eyes, sighing disappointedly when you couldn’t find him. As much as your quirk numbed you to most things, you weren’t entirely immune to simpler feelings, like the soft pang of missing someone or the nervous quickening of your heartbeat when you finally spotted him at the end of the day. You couldn’t deny that your draw to him only grew with each nightly rendezvous and slowly, butterflies began to appear in your chest even long after the effects of your quirk had worn off. You found yourself counting the minutes until he came to see you at the end of the day, and feeling melancholy when you parted ways late in the evening.

You had never been able to feel something without taking it from someone else first, but bit by bit that began to change.

---

One night a little over a week after you first met, Jin was ten minutes late to meet you - concerning, considering how punctual he’d always been until then. 

When he did show up, he seemed agitated as he tried to make conversation, and the moment his eyes met yours, you knew something was wrong. “Jin?” You questioned. Though he’d been slowly breaking the habit as you got to know one another, his gaze once again glued itself to the ground. He gnawed on his bottom lip as he desperately tried to avoid eye contact. You moved closer and bent down slightly, forcing yourself into his line of sight though he tried to evade. Only then did you notice he’d been biting his lip so hard it had swelled, threatening to bleed. “Jin, are you okay?” 

For the first time in your life, you felt genuine concern.

“Back off, bitch!” He clasped a hand over his mouth the moment the words flew past his lips, his eyes brimming with tears. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry, I-” His voice broke as he repeated the words over and over again. “I can't help it. Yes I can. I don’t mean it. I’ll hurt you. Gah- damn it, shut the hell up, wontcha?!” He yelled at no one in particular. 

You took a cautious step back to give him space, though you had no intention of running. You knew how it felt to find yourself stuck in a losing battle against your own mind. No matter what he said, you weren’t about to leave. Not like everyone else had left both of you.

Without a second thought, you reached out, entwining gloved fingers with his and tugging him down the sidewalk. He followed without hesitation, clutching your hand so tightly you thought it may break. You pulled him into a narrow alleyway for privacy, and the moment no one else was around, he hurriedly reached into his pocket, fishing out a two-toned mask. “Shit, I- I’m splitting up! I’m fine! I’m splitting all up- I love it!” Hot tears streamed down his cheeks as his bloodshot eyes finally found yours. “I’m splitting, (Y/n), you don’t understand I’m sp-!”

You put two and two together fairly quickly and swiped the mask from his trembling grasp, roughly tugging the skin-tight material over his head and down onto most of his face. You rattled off a stream of apologies as you helped him unceremoniously slide it the rest of the way on, certain you were pulling tufts of hair along with the fabric.

The moment his mask was fully in place, Jin exhaled a sigh of relief and dropped to the ground. You pushed away the countless questions racking your brain, instead forcing yourself to focus on the man before you. You lowered to sit beside him and placed a gentle hand on his back. Your thumb lightly rubbed the space between his shoulder blades as you sat together on the damp asphalt, barely noticing as small droplets of old rain periodically dribbled onto your shoulders from an overhead windowsill. 

You didn’t have to wait long before he turned his attention back to you, shifting so you were face to face and cupping your cheeks with calloused palms. “You’re an angel! Marry me!” he excitedly exclaimed. You leaned into his touch despite the confusion clouding your thoughts, and suddenly you found yourself grateful your quirk only transmitted through your fingertips. 

You didn’t know exactly what you were feeling in that moment - worry, adoration, compassion, panic - the lines between them all blurred together in your head, but it didn’t matter. The feelings were there, and they were yours. 

Without a second thought, you threw your arms around Jin. He gladly reciprocated, nearly knocking you off balance as he wrapped you in a tight hug. “Sorry, that musta’ been real scary for ya, huh?”

You shook your head ‘no’ against his strong shoulder, “You’re gonna have to do a lot more than that to scare me.” He chuckled weakly at your words, and you reluctantly pulled away to meet his gaze once more. “Are you okay? I mean-” you sighed, “that was a dumb question, but you know what I mean, right? Do you need anything? Water, juice?” 

“Juice! Stop stressin’! I’m fine now - when the mask is on, I become whole again! Good as new, see?” He flexed a bicep theatrically. The mask obscured his smile, but the slight squint at the bottoms of his eyes told you he was grinning from ear to ear. You nodded, letting out a breath that you didn’t know you had been holding in.

Hesitantly, you asked the next question on your mind: “Does that happen often?”

The man in front of you shrugged much too nonchalantly for the situation. “Most of the time I’m wearin’ the mask, so I don’t really gotta worry.”

Your brow furrowed. “I’ve never seen you in it before.”

“Duh, I always take it off to visit ya!” You cocked a brow questioningly, and he took the hint to elaborate further. “First time was an accident. You just caught my eye when I was on a walk without it, and I wanted to help ya out a bit ‘cause of that one guy from school.” He shook his head slightly, still smiling. “You’re so pretty, though - especially when you’re happy - I just had to come back. But you’d already seen me without the mask, so I jus’ took it off when I went to see ya.”

Whether his intention or not, Jin’s words forced a smile onto your face. The butterflies in your chest buzzed to life as he locked his fingers with yours, squeezing happily when he saw the blush on your cheeks. “The mask wouldn’t have changed a thing about how you make me feel, dummy!” you confessed before you could talk yourself out of it. “You’re still you-.” 

Not willing to let go of your hand, Jin dragged it along with his as he raised an index finger to halt your statement. “Did ya just say ‘feel’? You’re feeling things now? An’ you didn’t tell me?!” 

“I didn’t want to interrupt what was going on with you!” You argued, giggles dampening your fake-serious tone.

“Silence, woman! That’s amazing!” He leapt to his feet, pulling you up with him and twirling you around in a circle. The happy tune of your combined laughter bounced off the brick alley walls, only serving to make you laugh harder before he halted you with an embrace. “Good job, you!”

“Good job, you!” You chimed back.

---

Your routine continued normally the next day. The street lamps flicked on at dark and, like clockwork, you spotted Jin in the distance. Unlike previous nights, though, this time he seemed to be carrying something. As he neared, crossing under the bright spotlight of a streetlight, you realized it was a flower - a white chrysanthemum, to be exact. You bounded toward him, meeting halfway down the sidewalk and practically tackling him in a delighted hug.

Jin’s free hand found yours as you separated, so that he could keep holding onto some part of you as you spoke. His other hand slipped the stem of the flower behind your ear, making sure it was secure before pulling away and taking in the view. “Ug-lee! You’re so pretty!”

You blew a playful kiss, “Thanks, to both. How did you know I love chrysanthemums?”

“I just hoped, ‘cause I love ‘em too. Do you know the meanin’ behind ‘em?”

You shook  your head ‘no’.

“Devoted love, apparently. I’m pretty damn devoted to lovin’ you!”

You knew Jin was about to nervously ramble, apologizing after his second statement, so you halted him with a finger to his lips. When he fell silent, you detangled your hand from his, much to his displeasure. Working slowly so that he could stop you at any point, you hooked your thumbs under the hem of his mask. His breath caught in his throat as you carefully tugged it up, just enough to expose his mouth. 

You found yourself grateful for the desolate streets that late evening provided as you stretched onto your toes and pressed your lips to his. His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you flush against him as you deepened the kiss. After a few sweet moments, you pulled away just enough to whisper against his lips, “Good, because I’m pretty damn devoted to loving you, too.”

[salvejoon]

Life is Beautifully Ugly (At Times) - pjm | 01

⇒ Warnings for this chapter: Death of minor characters, mentions of a car accident, losing a loved one, a child being orphaned, cursing, Jimin being an ass, reader being a bitch.

⇒ A/N: Hey lovelies! I’m back-ish! I’ve been working on this project for months now and I’ve finally found my muse again and so I got to writing more and more chapters for this. Please enjoy the first chapter of hopefully my first series (but not my last). xoxo

“Imo!” Your head shot up at the happy squeal and you bent down to one knee, opening your arms, almost toppling over at the force your niece ran into you.

“Oof!” Your arms closed around her and she buried her nose in your hair as her arms went around your neck, “Hello my pretty little flower.” You drew back and nuzzled her nose with yours to which she frowned. 

“I’ve grown 1 inch so I’m not little anymore.” 

“You’ll always be my pretty little flower, Hyejin. No matter how tall you get.” You picked her up as you stood, groaning briefly as you adjusted her on your hip, “But you are getting a little bit heavy.”

Hyejin giggled, “Appa also says I’m getting heavy. Says his back hurts.” 

“That’s because your Appa is getting old.” 

A hum came from the doorway and you saw Han, your brother-in-law, standing there, looking dapper in a black and white tux, his natural black hair swept back from his face, “You’re the one to talk, Y/N. You’re closer to 30 than I am.” 

You rolled your eyes, “No need to remind me, Han.” You said just as your younger sister, Charlotte gently pushed Han out of the doorframe, looking a little bit frantic, “Missing something?” You asked her as she walked over to the vanity, opening several drawers.

“My watch.”

“The one laying right in front of you?” 

Charlotte sighed heavily as her eyes landed upon her watch, “Thanks.” 

“What would you do without me?” You smirked as she walked over to you and took Hyejin from your arms and her daughter protested with a small whine.

“Can’t I go with you, Eomma?” She asked and glanced longingly at you and her father, “I also want to go to the ball and look pretty.” 

Charlotte chuckled and kissed her forehead, “Another time, baby. This is for grown-ups only.” 

“Why is it always only for adults? I want to go too!” She protested loudly, crossing her arms and pouted.

You ruffled her hair, “How about you and I play dress-up tomorrow, hm? How does that sound? I’ve bought new shoes you can try.” You winked at her and Hyejin’s pout slowly vanished. 

“Can I put make-up on you, Imo?” 

“Sure.” 

Charlotte put her down and bent down just as the doorbell rang, gently wiping her daughter’s hair back from her face, “You be good to Mrs. Shin, okay? We’ll be back before you know it.”

“Yes, Eomma.” 

You absentmindedly stared out the window as the limousine drove through one of the high-end districts of Seoul. Closed off ground containing High-Rise buildings towered the streets and in between, they were grand mansions. 

You felt out of place here, in this part of town.

You preferred Han and Charlotte’s apartment in the more affordable part of Seoul. 

“Y/N.”

You hummed at the sound of your sister’s voice.

“Promise me you’ll be nice.” 

You shifted your gaze to her and raised a brow, “When am I not nice?” You asked and shook your head when Charlotte sent you a knowing look, “Oh please. Just because he’s going to be there doesn’t mean I won’t be nice.”

Han snorted, “The last time you saw each other, it ended up in the tabloids.” 

You glared at him and tch’ed, “Your brother called me - me - a prude, and I simply wanted him to teach him some manners.”

“You don’t teach someone manners by threatening them, Y/N.” Came the rational voice of Charlotte. 

This time you snorted and rolled your eyes, “Wow, you two really take his side.” 

“We are not but you two should bury that hatchet, whatever it is. He is actually nice once you get to know him.” 

“He’s a conceited asshole that needs to be beaten down a peg or ten. There is nothing nice about him.”

“Y/N…”

“Yeah, yeah.”

There was once a time where you would have taken in the beautiful surroundings of the ballroom with all it’s marble and gold, tall doors, and crystal chandeliers and would have felt like a princess. 

But this wasn’t your first rodeo at a gathering such as this nor would it be your last. 

You hated them now. Well, not hated but found them so superficial because all it was was rich people prancing around with their noses in the air while they had a pissing contest of who had the most money, the fastest car, the grandest of mansions, or the youngest wife.

“Smile.” Charlotte noted as she sat down next to you, followed by Han who had finally managed to break free of one of the old ladies' claws, no doubt talking about finances.

You plastered on a fake smile but said smile quickly vanished when you spotted a familiar face approaching the table. 

You tried to hide your scowl as the man came up to the table, dressed in a burgundy-colored suit that cost more than what you earned in a year, his ears adorned with silver dangling earrings with matching diamond rings on his fingers. The last time you had seen him, he’d donned blonde hair but now it was gray and it was swept back neatly, showing off his face. 

And he had a new chick on his arm.

No surprise there.

Park Jimin was one of the biggest fuckboys you knew, if not the biggest. 

He dragged his eyes from his date to you and a knowing smirk spread on his lips when he saw your scowl. No doubt he was already planning various ways to piss you off. 

“Jimin. Nice of you to show up…” Charlotte glanced at her wristwatch, “20 minutes later than we agreed upon but it’s better than an hour like last time.” 

Jimin removed his eyes from you and looked at your sister with an innocent smile, “I apologize, Charlotte. Things dragged out at the board meeting.” The woman on his arm tugged at it, “And may I introduce Jisoo. My date.��� 

Han bowed his head and your sister smiled sweetly at her and you… Well, you ignored them. 

That was until Charlotte jabbed you in the ribs, “Ow! Hi, whatever.” You grumbled, glaring at her before meeting Jisoo’s smiling face and forced your lips upwards. 

“As formal as ever, Y/N.” Jimin drawled before sitting down across from you, his smirk back on his lips, “Where is your date?” 

“I came alone.” You answered stiffly. 

He scoffed and leaned back in his chair, “As usual.” 

Arrogant asshole. 

“At least I’m not fucking my way through the female population of Seoul.” 

Jisoo opened her mouth to object but a tap on the mic shut all of you up and you just aimed a glare at him. He met you with one of his own. The tension rose at the table and you heard your brother-in-law sigh softly. 

“It’s going to be a long evening.” You heard him murmur. 

The hours dragged on and so far you’d listened to four long speeches, three performances by some musicians you had never heard of, and had Charlotte remind you of your promise ten times.

You found yourself sitting alone at the table, date-less while your sister was out dancing with Han and Jimin had vanished. 

Probably aiming the money-shot between his date’s breasts.

The image of that left a bad taste in your mouth, so you focused on the dancing people on the floor.

You could easily find a willing dance partner. There were loads of young bachelors at such an event like this but they were so boring to you. You didn’t care about numbers, board meetings, or future merges. Charlotte had given up trying to set you up long ago since you scared most of them away. 

You deemed your independence a part of your charm. Charlotte didn’t agree. 

The ironic part was that the only man here, that could keep up with you, was an arrogant dickwad with a stick so far up his ass, he could pick his teeth with it. 

And he was probably fucking his date at the toilet. There you go again with those thoughts. 

“Ugh.” You shuddered and willed the images away as you picked up your wine glass and took a sip. The best thing about these events was the free booze. 

Too bad you weren’t allowed to get hammered because the last time you got shitfaced, you had dragged Jimin by his collar, trying to get him outside so you could ‘rearrange that stick’. The tabloids had a field day with that instance. It hadn’t been the first time you had threatened to kick his ass and you doubted it would be the last. 

Jimin just knew how to push the right buttons. 

“No one has asked you for a dance yet?” 

Your left eye twitched in annoyance, “No. Not yet. Are you offering?” You asked as you looked at Jimin with a raised brow. 

“No. I prefer my dance partners to be more… graceful. I don’t like getting stepped on.” 

“But I can be graceful, Jimin.” 

“Oh? When?” He asked as he sat down in the chair and crossed his legs. 

“When I step on your throat, choking the life out of you.” 

“Kinky, Y/N. I didn’t know you had it in you.” 

You scoffed and leaned back in your chair, “Where’s your date? Recovering from having your filthy hands on her body?”

“And if she is?” 

“Then tell her I know a therapist.” 

Jimin threw you a glare, one you returned with an unimpressed, bored look, “She’s in the restroom.” 

“Trying to wash away her sins, no doubt.”

“Are you jealous, Y/N? You seem oddly fixated on my sexual interactions.” 

You picked up your wine glass and shrugged, “For me to be jealous, Jimin, it would require I had some sort of feelings for you, which I do not other than absolute disgust.” You downed the rest of the wine that was in the glass, deciding you were done entertaining him, “And I’d undoubtedly get more satisfaction by watching old men dance with their young wives than having sex with you.” With that you rose from the table. You flicked a strand of hair over your shoulder as you put your bag on the table, “Now be a good boy and look after my belongings.” 

“Where are you going?” He asked stiffly. 

“To dance, of course. Might step on a toe or two but what the hell.” 

Your escape from the table hadn’t gone as smoothly as you had hoped because Charlotte and Han were nowhere to be found, the men that had approached you were either 60 and above and the bartender hadn’t seemed particularly keen on entertaining you with small talk. So you opted to venture outside instead. 

The air was chilly and you shivered a little, rubbing your arms to regain some heat as you looked up. The sky was clear and the stars twinkled while the moon showered the ground in it’s white glow. It was a pretty evening, really. You had the sudden urge to just lay down on the grass and stargaze. 

You felt something heavy being draped over your shoulders and you turned around to see a pair of dimples and a bright smile. 

You knew those dimples.

And that smile.

Those kind, warm, honeyed eyes. 

Your heart sped up. 

Before you could open your mouth to greet him, Namjoon booped your nose, “Thought I saw you dash outside. Are you avoiding me?” 

You shoved his shoulder, albeit gently with a smile on your lips, “Duh. Of course, I am avoiding you.” 

He frowned, “The sex can’t have been that bad.” He pouted.

You rolled your eyes, “It was terrible. Absolutely terrible.” 

“You really know how to hurt a man's pride, Y/N.” He chuckled and enveloped you in a tight hug, “I’ve missed you.” 

“I’ve missed you too, Joonie. I haven’t seen you in, what, 3 months?” You drew back, “I didn’t know you were attending the fundraiser.”

Namjoon kept his arms around your waist as he sheepishly smiled down at you, “I wasn’t planning on attending since I am so busy lately but when Han told me you’d be here, I had to come.” 

“Aw, my little Joonie bug.” 

He let go of you and you stepped back, “So how is the partnership coming along?” You asked, standing next to him, “Charlotte told me you’ve been super duper uber busy.” 

He sighed, “I have been so fucking busy and work has just been taking up all of my time and I am so tired of it.”

“Oh, Joonie.”

“But I can now call myself partner and a board member of Kim & Co Lawyers.” 

You squealed, your arms finding purchase around his neck as you jumped up and down of excitement, “OH MY GOD! CONGRATULATIONS!” 

Big hand engulfed your face and squished, “Thank you but calm down, sprout. No reason to entertain the whole neighborhood.”

“Buf u gos te parfership.”

“Yes.”

“lso yo ar ruinf te makuf.”

“I am fully aware of that, sprout.” 

“Le gof.”

He chuckled and let go of your face, placing his hands on your shoulders instead, “Thank you. But how are you? Charlotte told me you’d be expanding the brand soon.”

You grinned and nodded, “Yes! I am so excited but at the same time also a little sad. That shop has been my bread and butter for 4 years now but it was about time I listened to my sister and expanded… With the help of some investors, of course.” 

“Well, I am looking forward to seeing you take over the world, Y/N.” 

You snorted and grabbed his hand, “Pfft, I think I’ll just deal with getting my designs on the interwebz first and see how that goes. Now let’s go get some wine and talk shit about other people.” 

“There you are!” You and Namjoon halted your conversation as Charlotte appeared between you, “We’ve been looking for you.”

You smiled sheepishly, “Sorry, sis.”

She glared but there was a teasing glint in her eyes, “Joonie has a habit of stealing your time.” 

“I’m like the most important man in her life, what did you expect?” Namjoon rolled his eyes as Charlotte bumped his shoulder, “Not in the way you want, woman.” 

Your sister huffed and shook her head, “What do I have to pay you to marry Y/N? Seriously, you’re like the only guy that can keep up with her shit and not want to run away.”

“Who says I don’t want to run away?” 

You slapped his arm that was draped over the bar counter, “Fuck you. You love me.” 

“I do but not enough to get my dick wet.” 

“That monster you call a dick wouldn’t fit anyway.” 

“Thank you, I guess, for calling it a monster, Y/N, but I would have made it fit. Preparation is key.” 

“That’s what I keep saying. Foreplay is an important part of-”

“Alright, I clearly interrupted something here so I would just like to give you the heads up and Han and I are going home.” Charlotte interrupted you and leaned in to kiss you on the cheek, “He’s drunk and I was getting tired anyway.” 

“Sure. I’ll see you back home.” You said, wiping at your cheek before turning it towards Namjoon, “Do I have a stain?”

He shook his head before accepting a peck on his cheek from Charlotte, “Nope. Looking smooth as always.” 

“You make sure she gets home safely, Joonie.”

“You have nothing to worry about.”

“And not too late, okay?”

“Bye Charlotte! Love you!” You called as she wandered off, dragging a swaying Han with her towards the entrance.

Jimin sat at the table, Jisoo at his side. He had tuned most of her blabbering out, finding the topic ‘what shoes to wear to her friend’s wedding’ quite boring. Instead, his eyes were trained on the dance floor where not many people were dancing. 

More specifically you and Namjoon that was talking more than dancing and he saw you smile, laughing at how your dance partner seemed to trip over his own feet. 

He scoffed. 

“Are you listening to what I’m saying, baby?”

“Of course, Jisoo. The red pair of shoes sounds good.” 

His phone vibrated in his pocket and he fished it out, eyes narrowing at the number, he swiped his thumb across the screen.

“Yes?” He said. 

“Jimin, hey, it’s Seokjin.” 

“I could see on the caller-id.”

There was a brief pause and Jimin held up a hand to silence Jisoo when she yanked at his arm. Then there was a beeping sound and the sound of doors being banged open, “Jin, what’s going on?”

“Sorry about that… I don’t know how to say this but you need to come to the hospital.”

“Why?” 

“It’s your brother. Jimin, you need to come and quick.” 

His throat felt as dry as sandpaper as he stood up and hung up, eyes darting to your dancing and laughing form on the dancefloor. 

“Jimin, baby, where are you going?” Jisoo asked him as he took a step, her hands clinging onto his wrist. 

“S-Sorry, I have somewhere I need to be.” He answered, his voice shaky, “I’ll arrange for someone to take you home.” 

“Wait!” She called out as he ran towards you.

You were laughing so hard at how Namjoon had just tripped over his own two feet again when Jimin appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, grabbing your wrist, “What the fuck?” 

“Fun time is over.” Jimin said and tugged you with him as he headed towards the exit.

You yanked your wrist free, Namjoon appearing at your side, “Um no, it isn’t. What’s with you?” You asked him. 

Jimin looked at you and Namjoon, “Y/N.” You raised a brow at the tone of his voice… He sounded scared, “We have to go now.” 

“Did something happen?” You immediately grew worried because Jimin never sounded scared. 

“Seokjin just called me and… Something happened with Han and Charlotte.” 

You had never felt such fear. 

The ride to the hospital was tense and quiet. Jimin drove like a maniac through the streets of Seoul while Namjoon had tagged along as support. The two men sat in the front of the car, exchanging no words whatsoever, leaving you to your thoughts running rampant. 

Then you arrived at the hospital and everything happened so quickly.

A drunk driver collided with their limousine.

Their driver was killed on impact. 

Charlotte and Han were in critical condition.

You had no idea how much time had passed from when you had arrived to when you were sitting on the chair outside the ward, Jimin prancing back and forth like a caged animal.

Then the doctor appeared from the ward and Namjoon was quick to leave your side, going to talk to him.

You stood up, watching as they talked and you felt Jimin’s presence next to you.

Time seemed to slow down when your eyes locked with Namjoon’s, the sadness in his eyes conveying the message you had yet to receive but you knew. 

They were gone. 

You could feel someone wrap their arms around you as you tumbled to the floor, your own piercing wail deaf to your ears as you felt your chest implode on itself with heartbreak. 

Jimin struggled to keep you upright as you collapsed, your cries so very loud in his ears but it didn’t matter. He felt like he couldn’t breathe. He didn’t need to hear why you had broken down. It was clear as day by the way Namjoon looked. 

His brother was gone. Your sister was gone. Both of them were gone. 

You cried out her name and Jimin tightened his hold on you when you tried to crawl away from him. 

He might not like you and you may not like him but he knew that you should not go through this pain alone. So when you clutched his shirt so tightly in your balled fists, your cries finally lowering to whimpering and you buried your head in his chest, Jimin held you tight.

The feeling of time was lost on you when you entered Han and Charlotte’s apartment. Your mind was empty and you were pretty sure your heart had stopped beating. 

Mrs. Shin appeared as you took off your shoes and placed your purse on a small table. She looked puzzled upon seeing you, and only you, return. 

“Where is…” She trailed off as you grabbed her hand. 

“They’re gone.” Was all you said and her shoulders sagged as she moved her free hand to cover her mouth, “Is she sleeping?”

“She is.” 

You nodded and walked past her, down the hall, towards Hyejin’s room. The door was slightly ajar and you slowly opened it, finding her room dark except for a small lamp in the corner. 

She hated the dark.

Like Charlotte. 

You felt tears stream down your cheeks at the thought of your sister but willed them away. You had to be strong now for Hyejin. 

Nothing else mattered.

Hyejin woke up when her mattress shifted and she turned her head, rubbing one eye, “Eomma?” 

“No, honey. It’s me.” 

She sat up, looking puzzled, “Where’s Eomma? She always comes to kiss me goodnight.” 

You opened your arms and closed them around her tiny frame, “I know.” You placed your head upon hers and took a deep breath, “Listen, sweetie…”

[megastarstriker]

{𝐀𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐓𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫}

      ~Nikki Sixx x reader~

======================

★Prologue★

“Pilot: When L.A. Burns”

Part 2

====================================

< Prologue (Part 1)

Warnings: Cussing, suggestive jokes, slight angst and mention of violence

𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: Nikki Sixx x Female Reader

𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝘾𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩:

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: When her step-brother and ex-roommate ,Casey Jensen(Cage), decides to leave home to go to L.A. and form a band. Although hesitant, she decides to take his invitation to go with him to escape her alone and pain-in the-ass life behind. Looking back as she leaves, she wonders if she made the right decision or if she should go back.( I don’t own Mötley Crüe or the actors used in this story, I only own the plot and the band characters I made up. This book and maybe for the entirety of it, will be based off and detailed from the books the Dirt and the Heroin Diaries. Some lines are used from the movie the Dirt, all of these books or movie lines that I mentioned that I will use for the story belong to their creators.)

Taglist: @leatherandheels @xxqueencolourxx @suranne-doesstuff @littlemisscare-all , @niksixx, @nikkisiexx, @nikki-fucking-sixx @prettyyoungandbored @matchaandhoney @savannahgrace98, @metalheartofgold, @dustnbones , @sikinikx, @seventieshead-modernlover, @tbonelee, @mrsixx, @queen-crue, @mikaiya1313, @ginny-rose-sixx, @bus-jackson​,

LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANNA BE TAGGED TO THIS STORY WITH AN ASK MESSAGE ����

��𝙚𝙮𝙨:

(Y/N) - Your Name

(L/N) - Last Name

(N/N) - Nickname

(S/C) - Skin Color

(E/C) - Eye Color

(H/C) - Hair Color

(H/L) - Hair Length

(F/S) - Favorite Shirt

(F/F) - Favorite Food

(F/D) - Favorite Drink

(L/C) - Lipstick Color

(F/A) - Favorite Animal

Characters:

BEN HARDY as CASEY CAGE

MÖTLEY CRÜE as THEMSELVES

WILLIAM FICHTNER as ROBERT JENSEN

___________________________________________________

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1978, L.A. - Whiskey -a- Go Go, Backstage. 

“You’re out of the band”, The man said simply as he was holding a cigarette to his lips as he looked at a young man with messy blonde hair and deep blue eyes. Holding the guitar in his hand, he gripped tightly as he looked at the guy who gave him the news as he stood there, still smoking his cigarette,” You’re obviously not cut out for this. Too slow and too much of a waste if we kept you.”

Casey stood there with a shocked, yet pissed look at the man as the sharp and hurting words reached his ears. He turned his attention to the other members who didn’t speak up or anything and simply just minded their own business.” So this is how it is then.”, Casey said as he looked down, trying so hard not to punch the asshole that took him off the band he formed,” Alright. I see. If you’re gonna seriously take someone of the band it should be yourself you fucking asshole.”

“We don’t need you anymore. We already found another guitarist.”

“Look if you’re gonna whine like a baby. Do it outside.”, The other man, with brunette hair and who was next to the guy said in a pissed manner as he approached him. Holding his hands out as he shoved and pushed him away in a rude manner.,” Back off.”

Casey took this as offense and punched him in the center of his face. When this occurred the brunette and him started to fight each other punch after punch and kick after kick, as the others were alerted immediately and tried to get them from each others claws and from killing each other.

As they separated the brunette from the blonde on the floor, Casey’s lip had a tear, that started drip with blood and the side of his eye had an ugly bruise, but it wasn’t any prettier for the guy standing above him who was being restrained by two other men.  His nose was busted, and blood was slowly trailing from underneath it towards his lips as it reached down his chin, in a brutal manner. 

Casey then stood up from the ground, slightly wincing in pain as he held his side, looking at the men with a furious gaze. If looks could kill those men would be dead in the most gruesome way possible, like a tiger ripping a part its prey. “ What the fuck is wrong with you?!”, one of the members shouted at him.

He stood up as he tried his best to not limp, looking at the members, his brows still furrowed at them as he looked at his bruised knuckles.” I’ll tell you what’s fucking wrong. I quit!! ”

He then took the strap of his guitar and swung it to the wall, smashing and breaking it in half. He then threw the broken neck of the guitar that was still in his hands and threw it above the group.

“So Fuck you and go to hell with you all!!”

“Because you’ve just lost yourself a musician who can actually play unlike the rest of you cunts.”

He then looked at the lead singer who was behind the guy with the broken nose.

“Just so were clear....”

He then took a glass cup with a few drops of whiskey and threw it at the guy a few inches away from him. Smashing at the wall behind him with a clear shatter.

“Your singing sucks balls!”

He then exited the room before taking the bottle of Jack Daniels with him and leaved the area outside. It was cold and dark, neon lights illuminating the streets, with crowds of people in every corner in the Sunset Strip. There was many people around him doing a load of crazy sort of things. Whether it was smoking, doing drugs, drinking, or having sex it didn’t matter. He was now busy in trying to figure out how to tell (Y/N) about the fact that he was out of the band. 

“Shit, I seriously fucked up now. Didn’t I?”, He said under his breath as the wind flew past him, brushing few of his messy strands to the side of his face.,” Fuck!”

He grabbed at his hair in frustration as he cursed at himself. He thought about how you would feel about all of this. If she would be angry or sad? or worse? He was supposed to be the responsible sibling and friend. Yet, here he was messing everything up for the both of you. Ever since that day... when they both made that deal. He promised himself and mainly to her, he would try his best to make a living together, and never break it. He didn’t want her to leave back to they’re parents. They were bad people. He knew it and he knows she knew it too. But she was very sympathetic, always ignoring the bad and trying to change it for the good. That’s how she managed to even befriend him. 

Thinking about you now that the show was finished, Casey then decided to enter the bar once again as he finished getting his stuff packed. Not wasting, anytime he finished the beer he took from the backstage and threw it on the ground, disposing of it. He knew you were waiting in there, as he saw you watching the gig at a distance swaying a bit to the music. So that’s what he did, he went inside the bar and just like that....

 ════  ════ ⋆★⋆ ════ ════

“Get the hell off of me!”, I yelled at the guy who was obviously shitfaced from too many drinks. I tried my best to be polite to the guy and told him I wasn’t interested, but he wasn’t having any of it apparently. So here I was in the most horrible situation any girl could ever be in.” Let me go, Damnit!”

I said as I repeatedly slapped his gripping hand from mine, only to figure out it only made him grip it much tighter. Knowing it wasn’t working I took the opportunity and used the heel on my boot and with whatever force I could muster brought it down to his foot and squished it.

“You Little Bitch!”, The man shouted in a groan filled with pain from the impact on his foot I gave him. In one swift movement he slapped me with his free hand, causing me to stumble and fall on the floor as I held my burning cheek that stung, making me wince by just touching it. “Now you’re really gonna get it.”, He said in a menacing tone as he stood above and towered over me, making me feel cornered with no way out. I ,of course, started to panic and without thinking I quickly kicked him in the groin. Causing him to bend down and grab it in pain, I tried scooting myself away from him and try to stand up. But as soon as I did, the guy just grabbed me by my neck and propped me against the wall. Alarmed and extremely anxious, I started to breath heavily as tears started to brink at my eyes. I tried clawing at his hand that was gripping slowly at my neck. “P-please stop!”, I said loudly and a bit out of breath from the pressure at my throat. 

“Listen here. You can cry and shout all you want girly, but no ones gonna hear ya. Got it.”, He whispered lowly and uncomfortably next to my ear, causing me to gag at the strong smell of booze coming from him,” So why don’t you be good girl and shut that pretty mouth of yours.”

 “The hell’s going on here?”, A voice said from nearby, from a slight glimpse I could see a young lean and tallish man with long, brown and slightly curly hair, wearing a leather jacket over a plain white t-shirt with leopard printed pants that looked a bit small on him. The guy had this look of suspicion, but then changed as he saw what really was going on. “Hey! Back off you’re hurting her!”, the guy said.

But the man didn’t do anything I looked at the young brown-haired guy with a pleading look as tears stained my reddish cheeks. “ I said let her go you jackass!”

Suddenly, as if a miracle just happened I caught a glimpse of blonde hair rushing behind the drunk man who was gripping my neck harshly, and felt his weight pressed against me disappear as he was pulled and ripped away from me. I then fell on the floor as his hand lost its grip and coughed a bit violently as I breathed the air heavily. I then noticed someone else punching one of the men who assaulted me, along with the blonde guy who had the shitfaced guy pressed up against the wall.

Casey...

“Is that how you treat a chick you fucking asshole”, Casey sneered at the guy as he kicked the guy on his side. The guy that was being brutally kicked and punched by him shuffled away from him as Casey panted.

Slowly, I started having a panic attack as tears started to drip from my eyes,  I then felt two hands grip my shoulders softly, and as I traced them they belonged to the guy who tried helping me. My (E/C) irises locked with soft hazel ones as they traced my terrified and teary eyed ones in concern. He then put his hands on my face gently and gingerly, causing me to flinch at the contact, not only because it was from a complete stranger, but because of the bruise I had that lingered on my cheek.

“H-Hey, are you okay.”, He asked me as he looked at my face, a bit out of breath as he scanned my face to look for any injuries. He then noticed me wince as he made little pressure with his soft hands on my cheek. He then left his hands of my face as he held them up slightly in defense and mumbled a little ‘sorry’ that sounded genuine and quite sheepish. “ I just want to make sure you’re okay, Dude. I’m not gonna hurt you like that shit-faced guy did, Okay.” 

I nodded silently and whispered an ‘okay’ completely trusting him as I was still quite traumatized and panicked with what just happened. I then saw Casey from the corner of my eyes as he looked at me. His baby blue eyes that were fused with rage and anger turning into concern and worrisome as he rushed over towards me before turning to the other guy. 

“Are you another one of those assholes!”, He shouted at him as he raised his fist up his whole body leaning over his sitting figure.

“Woah, Chill man! I didn’t try to do anything to her I swear, Dude.”, He replied as he held his hands up slightly to tell him that he wasn’t part of the almost sex assault that just happened,” I just saw the chick getting strangled by the guy and sort of kicked his ass for it, but that’s it!”

Casey then as he still held his fist to the guy, turned his eyes to me for confirmation and I slowly nodded a ‘yes’ towards him. He then lowered his fist and backed away slowly from my ‘savior’. Casey then went to my side and reached over to look at my face and noticed the marks on my neck and cheek,” That fucker.” he muttered harshly under his breath with furrowed brows as he gulped slowly at the lump in his throat.

“Thank you”, I told the guy as he looked between me and Casey.

“Its cool, someone had to step in to teach those men a lesson, and with the many punches we gave to those dickhead’s....”, He replied as he made a punching motion as if he were boxing in a comedic manner, ”They’ll never wanna come back now and mess with us.”

I laughed a bit with a wince as he did that.” You’re not a boxer.”

“Whose to say that? You never know what’s under these fucking fists.” He replied with a grin as he held his fist up in a fighting stance.

I chuckled again at his goofy manner as he joined in along with my brother who was trying so hard to keep a bold hard face, but couldn’t from how ridiculous the guy was being and so he joined in the laughter.

“Name’s Tommy Bass, but my friend’s call me Tommy”, the guy said as he held his hand out in a greeting and friendly fashion.

“(Y/N)”, I answered as I held his hand shaking it softly. The guy named Tommy seemed very enthusiastic and excited in his own childish but cute way. 

He then looked to my brother over my shoulder while he was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, sitting next to me in the ground.” Casey Cage, but Casey is just fine.”, Casey simply said followed with a sigh.

“Rad name. You were also pretty fucking hardcore, by the way when you kicked that guy in the nuts, you really showed him.”, Tommy complimented with a happy smile as he then went to fumble something on his pocket and took it out to reveal a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. My brother in return just shrug his shoulders, like he didn’t really care whether he thought it was cool or not, but the smile on his face proved he was kind of happy to hear it.,

We all talked for a few hours making me feel more calm and relaxed and a whole lot stressed from what just happened a few moments ago.

“ Look I know we just got out of some messed up shit, but I was thinking maybe we could all go down to the diner down the street and hang out there. It’ll cool things down, lighten the mood Y’know. They’ve got some killer pancakes too. That’s if you dudes are cool with it.”

I laughed softly at Tommy’s adorable behavior, and thought about what he said for a moment. To be honest, it was a great idea. The last thing I wanted to think about was getting almost raped and my virginity away by those bastards. It’ll calm me down from my anxious and shocked state. Besides, Casey being there it will make me feel safer. His suggestion was all for good intentions too and he did save my life it was the least I could do. Plus, he seemed pretty friendly, and I want to get to know him better. After all, he did just comfort me and beat the guy’s ass and teeth off.” Well, I am kind of hungry and I think you are pretty cool. Sure. Lead the way.”

“Okay then, Let’s go.”, Tommy cheered as he stood up and took the cigarette out of his mouth for a moment, letting the smoke leave his rosy lips, before putting it back on his mouth, giving me a tight-lipped smile that adorned his face very nicely, the sense of its comfort making me smile as well.

Casey gave me and Tommy a face that read “seriously” to us both, as he raised an eyebrow.

“What?”, Tommy and I said in unison as we looked at him in confusion, as we started to walk away from the cramped and dark alleyway, that had barely any light.

                     “Nothing.”, Casey replied as he shook his head in disbelief as he uncrossed his arms, letting them fall gently at his side, as he let his back scoot away from the wall and walked towards us, dusting his pants of as he did. Following Tommy,  we walked side by side all three of us on the sidewalk of the street.

A few moments passed and it was somewhat quite. Awfully quiet. I thought of asking Casey about his broken lip and his bruised eye, but I somehow decided against it. I knew it couldn’t have been from the fight, being that he didn’t get punched rather he was the one who attacked first.’ Did something happen to him while he was backstage?’ I thought  as I pondered a bit over that fact. I knew he was perfectly fine with defending himself and standing strong, being that he did just punched that bastard and he has been in many fight in the past. But as his closest friend and only sibling, I couldn’t help but feel a bit worried about him. Sure he was sometimes a jerk and all, he sometimes got himself into trouble, but still...

“So, what kind of music do you like?”, Tommy asked breaking me from my thoughts and the ice that was growing between us as we walked quietly,  his bright eyes met mine,” Rock ‘N’ Roll?”

“Yeah, we listen to rock n roll. Both of us.”, I answered with a sweet smile as I gestured to Casey who was walking silently beside us both, his shoes grazing the pavement beneath him with each step, limping slightly as he did.

“Really?! Sick!”, He replied as he held a rock sign on his hand with a joyful grin on his lips, ”What bands do you listen to?”

“We listen to AC/DC, Kiss, Queen, Black Sabbath, The Rolling Stones, and a whole lot more than I can count.”, I laughed a bit as I listed.

“Nice, What’s your favorite. Mine’s is KISS, their music is fucking fire.”, He said in a almost awed manner as he talked about them.

“Well, I think every band has their own charm and flaw that makes them unique and a favorite to everyone. But since you asked, I love AC/DC.”

“Not Bad, babes. I think their pretty sweet too.”, He said as he glanced out at me through the corner of his eye, as he smoked his cigarette.

As we were approaching the diner up ahead, a few drops of what appear to be rain came to fall from the late midnight sky, wetting my jacket a bit. Tommy and Casey noticed it too as they felt the raindrops that turned into almost pouring water to fall on their dry heads.

“Last one to the diner is an old chicken!”, Tommy yelled as he ran his fast legs carrying him to the diner. His hair flying behind him as he ran like crazy as if his life depended on it.

“No fair! You got a head start.”, I yelled as I laughed a bit, running behind Tommy, as Casey started to run beside me, the rain pouring down to the grown and underneath our feet each second.

“Slowpoke!”, He yelled back as he kept running at a fast pace, reaching the diner’s doors. He held his arms wide in the air, as he released two rock signs on both of his hands.

I then stopped running as I stood in front of Tommy, Casey right beside me, holding his mouth as he tried not to laugh at my tired expression.

“Finally, for a second I thought you were gonna be last!”, Tommy laughed out as he held the door to the diner.

“What is that suppose to mean?”, I asked in a sassy remark with my arms crossed as I furrowed my brows.

“Ooh, Cocky are we?”, He replied as he held the door for me with a grin,” Ladies first.”

“Asshole”, I muttered lowly but a bit louder enough so he can hear me, as I tried to suppress a growing grin on my face.

Looking at inside the diner, it was pretty much packed with a lot of people in different booths. Luckily there was an empty one from between a couple of ones that were full. We took a seat on the empty booth, Casey went on the front, inside as I followed and entered on the edge of the seat, Tommy sitting across from us both and waited until the waitress came to take our order.

The place was loud and filled with chattering as the people around us talked, the only ones quiet and waiting patiently was us. Tommy was impatiently tapping his foot on the ground like a little kid waiting for the school bell to ring for the end of school, while Casey with a bored look took a napkin from the tabletop napkin holder, rolled it up a bit. As he held his nose with one hand, leaning his head back, and with the other placed the rolled up napkin inside, as hints of blood started to drip from underneath his bruised nose.

“Damn, that nose looks seriously fucked up. Did you get into a fight with someone?”, Tommy asked directly at Casey as he looked at my brother’s wound on his lip, nose, and on the side of his eye, hissing at the sight. Casey simply turned his head away as he dabbed the napkin into his lip holding it in place to stop the bleeding, ignoring his comment as he simply didn’t want to talk about it, avoiding his question. Tommy took this as away to not lead that conversation forward and simply dismiss it, as he leaned his upper half body on the table, both of his arms standing and laying on it for support as he scratched his head, while his head was turned away to look at something else.

Then as if it were a miracle, the waitress came and stood before us. Tommy instantaneously sat up as he looked at the young attractive waitress that was holding a small notepad and pen in her hand. “May I take your order?”

“I’ll have Blueberry Pancakes, please and maybe something a little extra...”, He replied to the waitress as he flirted with her. Getting the message, the waitress simply rolled her eyes at him and looked towards the both of us, awaiting our order so she can write it down. 

“Umm..”, I tried to think as I looked at the menu that was placed in front of me,” a (F/F) and (F/D) would be nice.”

Then the lady looked towards my brother, in which in return he stared at her, while she tapped her foot at the outside corner of the table.

 “I’ll have a Jack-”Casey managed to say, before I stomped his foot that was next to mine from underneath the table, not letting him finish his sentence at all. 

“A coke, please.”, I replied sweetly as I turned to Casey, who was pissed at me for not letting him speak to the lady and order what he really wanted.

The lady then nodded to us as she then flipped the page on her notepad and wrote, what I assumed was our orders.

“Your order will be out shortly.”, She said as she placed the pencil to her ear with a hand on her hip, as she finished writing and closed the notepad,” In the meantime, I’ll bring you guys some water while you wait.”

“Thank You.”, I said to her as she hummed in response as she left the table.

Once she was out of ear shot, Casey then spoke out,” What the hell was that for?”

“You’re not drinking. Especially, when you are gonna be the one driving the van.”, I whispered-shouted at him.

He then rolled his eyes at me and simply answered,” I wasn’t gonna get wasted like that.”

“I know, but still...”, I told him as I looked down at my lap fiddling with my fingers and my hands. 

I then pressed the jacket closer to my neck trying to cover the slightly marked bruise spot there, so no one can get the wrong idea of one of the boys hurting me in any way. The world seem around us seem to move on, except for us three who where still sitting in awkward silence.

“Here”,  The woman who was first attending us brought us our water,” I’ll come again when your order is ready.”

Placing the tray in front of us and then putting the glasses of water in front, she then left as she took the tray along with her.

 Casey then took the water as he drank from it. I on the other hand played around with the straw inside the glass. While Tommy, was surprisingly quiet this whole time, probably feeling a bit awkward. Who am I kidding? This was awkward. We were all feeling awkward.

“So...”, Tommy started to say as he drummed his fingers on the table, pursing his lips as he tried to think of something to say, with slightly wide eyes as he looked at the table as if it were the only interesting thing right now.,” Are you guys....like a thing?”

Casey as he heard that choked on the water that he was drinking, that was brought to us on the table by the waitress as we waited for our food, and holding the napkin he had on his nose that was keeping it from bleeding in surprise, making him cough as he tried to compose his fit, his eyes watering and wide as he covered his mouth with his left arm.

“You okay?”, He asked worriedly as he watched him coughing. I looked at him as well, a hand resting on his shoulder as I tapped it gently.

Casey then in a raspy voice managed to say ‘I’m good’ as he let out a few coughs, before he finally finished.

“We...aren’t a couple.”, I responded Tommy’s question,” We’re related to each other” .In which he let out an ‘Oh’ in response, as he realized. 

“Sorry, It’s just. You guys fight like an old married couple. It sorta gave me the idea you both were hooking up or dating, some shit like that.”, Tommy said laughing a bit, as he said that.

“No we are not.”, I said as I laughed a bit too, nervously.,” But you do have the arguing part, down right.”

I then looked around the place of the diner a bit as I watched people eating or just talking.

“This place is really nice, I didn’t think there was a diner near the bar we were just at.”, I said with a smile as I looked at Tommy.

“I know, right. I usually come here often after I watch a few of the gigs down at that bar,. Speaking of which...Care to tell me what a pretty chick like you was doing in a place like that?”, Tommy asked out of nowhere curiously, as he sat across me from the both we were in, trying to be flirty but at the same time to not be awkward.

“Umm, I was seeing him play, his gig, at.. the bar ,‘Whiskey-a-Go Go’.”, I replied nervously, pointing at Casey as I stared at Casey through the corner of my eyes and explained to Tommy,” He invited me to come see his show.”

“Oh, Now that you mention it....Wait a minute! I think I’ve seen you before”, Tommy said as he looked at my brother with furrowed brows, squinting his eyes and pointing at him as he tried remembering something,” No fucking way! You’re the dude that played that rad guitar solo onstage at the Whiskey.”

“Yeah, So?”, He asked slightly annoyed and defensive, I elbowed him gently as I glared at him at the corner of my eyes, trying to remind him to be nice.

“What you did onstage was so awesome. You had the whole audience begging on their fucking knees for more!.”, He said followed with a laugh as he finished his sentence.

“Well, some of them didn’t think so. Those crackheads kicked me out of their shit-show. We’re done and over with. Couldn’t be more happier about it.”, He replied lowly, mumbling the last sentence to himself, as he looked down at the napkin that he pressed on his lip, that was stained with dried blood as it trickled a bit from his torn lip.

“Dude! That’s definitely their damn loss, they are seriously gonna miss out on your skills. What you did was pretty badass. The show, not the nose, but...the Nose looks pretty badass too.”

“Yeah, the singer was such an ass.”, Casey replied in a muffle as he held the blood stained napkin in his fingers, pressed against his mouth and nose.

“Yeah I saw the banter that happened onstage. Hey, fuck him, though. He deserved it. Besides, he wasn’t much of a good one any ways.”, He said with sincerity as he looked towards my brother and then to me.

“He is right, you know. You were pretty good up there.”, I said 

I nodded at him with a smile, as Casey looked towards Tommy a small smile starting to reach on his lips, but silently dismissed it as he downed more of the clear liquid from his glass of water and turned his head away from him.

“Do you play in a band?”, I asked Tommy as I drank from my still full water on the table.

“Not at the moment, But I’m planning on joining a band called ‘Suite 19′. I’m gonna be their new drummer.”, He said taking out from his belt, in what looked like to be drumsticks,” That’s when the guys decide to kick the other guy out. I talked to them about it too, But I don’t know. They are still kind of thinking about it.”

Casey then looked at him with furrowed brows as he saw the drumsticks he was carrying.” Do you carry those with you, everywhere you go?”

“Yeah.”, He said as he began to play around with his drumstick in his hand, twirling them around in a very fast motion, without making a mistake as to drop it.

“That’s great. Casey also knows how to play the drums.”, I said as he  kept twirling them at a quick pace keeping his gaze at us. 

“Nice. Does that mean you can do stuff like this?”, He said as he began to do many twirls around his fingers with the drumstick, in different movements all in one hand. Only for him to drop them by accident as he made the drumsticks stop turning around and rested them on his hand. Leaning down to pick them up from the ground as he muttered ‘shit’ under his breath silently.

“Huh. Not bad. Where’d you learn to do that?”, Casey asked Tommy as he kept twirling his drumsticks between his fingers.

“I’ve been practicing since I was three. Also, High school marching band. ”, He said with a sigh and laugh as he stopped twirling his drumsticks, letting them fall on the table gently, as he gave us a tight lipped smile.,” Hey, but I rock too.”

Casey looked down at the table shaking his head as he let out a chuckle to escape his mouth followed by a smirk.” Yeah, I can see that.”

Then from a distance the woman held a tray of our order towards us. She held it down on the table. and passed each of our plates in front of us. Afterwards, she placed an icepack right next to me and my food on the table. I then looked towards her only for her to respond, “Its for the bruise. It will help with the swelling. Enjoy the food, hon.”

She then left leaving me shocked and a bit happy as I thanked her shyly for the ice pack, I then placed the small ice pack around my neck, tensing at the coldness of it coming into contact with my stinging skin that still hurt quite a bit from earlier. A few moments later though I relaxed as I adjusted to the feeling.

“You seriously eat that at this time?”, I heard Casey asked Tommy from beside me.

“Yeah, I mean its Pancakes. Nothing is late ”, He said  as he started to take a bite of the delicious and warm stack of pancakes.

“I know that, but Don’t you think its a bit late for that?”, I asked him with a laugh.

“Hey, food isn’t late for anything, especially Pancakes. Besides, they taste fucking amazing.”, He said  a bit muffled as he started eating his Pancakes with a smile, like a kid eating a sweet treat.

“Yes, we fucking now that by now. Now can we please just eat, right now”, Casey said as he laughed afterwards a small smile on his face. 

“Okay, Geez....”, I replied with a tiny laugh.

We all three laugh together, as we talked and talked, while we ate. The mood was comfortable and relaxing. Everyone was having a good time, even Casey surprisingly as well. But then it was already time to go as we finished eating our food and I checked the time on my watch.

“Anything else, you want?”, The lady prior to coming at our table with our orders said, as she stood in front of us. 

“No just the check. I’ll pay”, Casey spoke as he looked at the lady in front of us taking out his wallet from his jacket’s pocket.

She nodded and went to the cash register at the front, passing around a group  of people behind it. We then left the booth, and approached the register as Casey paid for the food. Afterwards, we left the place walking on the streets.

“So, what did you guys think?”, He asked as he walked beside us.

“It was nice. you’re pretty cool and you aren’t so bad at all.”, I responded a bit shyly and Casey replied with a simple ‘yeah’ as he walked to the right side of me.

“Thanks, you dudes are pretty cool too.”, He said with a laugh as we both walked towards the parking lot, where our van was parked right next to the ‘Whiskey-a- go go’.  “ Do you come to this place often?”

I nodded with a yes and a small giggle,” Usually, to see bands play.”

” Guess we will be running into each other a lot, huh.” Tommy said as he put his hands in his jacket’s pockets

“Yeah, I guess so.”, I then said as I moved towards Casey.

From there, we parted ways and said goodbye to Tommy, hoping to meet again tomorrow at the same time and place for the last day of the weekend.

Entering the car and pulling away from the parking lot that was next to the bar as we drove away back to our house. It was pretty quiet. Too quiet. I wanted to talk to him about the situation about how he got fired from his band, but I new that was a very strong subject, especially since he was more calmer now then ever.

The rest of the way home was quieter than ever as a random song from the radio was playing in the car. He then parked away next to our place. and just stood there.

“I can’t believe that fucking happen to you.”, He told me all of a sudden as he kept his eyes on the wheel, making my hand pull away from the car’s doorknob as I was ready to leave the car and into the house.

“T-tommy was there when it happen and h-he saved me from that, I-its ok-, ”, I mustered to say as I kept my eyes down, and sunk my body deeper in to the passenger seat.

“No its not fucking okay, those fucking creeps could’ve raped you, because of me!”, He said guiltily with anger as he gripped the wheel a bit tighter and yelled at me,” What if- what if he wasn’t there at all! Damnit”

“Casey!”, I yelled at him so he could hear what I had to say, as he scolded himself for leaving me,” I’m fine, and that’s what matters. Stop blaming yourself for it, It wasn’t your fault. None of it, Okay. You were there too, and you prevented it from happening. Those bastard got what he deserved. I’m safe right now, because of you. You’re a good brother. And a good friend”

He looked at me from the corner of his eyes before leaving his gripping hands away from the wheel and wrapped them around me. He hugged me.

“I know. I’m just afraid that one day I’ll mess up and fail.”, He said his voice cracking by just a bit as he sucked in a breath, trying to hold his emotions together.

The grip he had on me was strong but not too tight either as he buried his face on my neck, embracing me. It startled me at first, but then I let my arms wrap around his strong frame.

“You won’t”, I reassured him with sincerity as I soothed him by rubbing his back gently. Burying my face on his firm shoulder.,” You never did.”

 We stayed there for a few moments that almost lasted forever, before he moved himself away from me giving me my space.

“How can you say that. How do you know for sure?”, He said almost as a question as he stared at me softly.

“I just know.”, I told him as I held his hand in mine gently,” Trust me.”

He nodded silently at me as his blue eyes soften as he stared at mine. 

We held hands and walked towards the house. As soon as Casey opened the door and turned on the lights to the house, I rushed to my room and to my bathroom. Looking at the bruise more clearly, it wasn’t that bad but it was a bit noticeable. Laying down the icepack that I carried all the way from the diner on the pale sink. Quickly, I went to the bedroom and took my midnight clothes. Then I moved on to the bathroom and closed it behind me taking my clothes off and ready to take a shower. Letting the warmth of the water above me soothe my skin and bruises, as I let my brain and thoughts relax and escape.

....

 A few minutes after I got dressed and dried my damp,(H/L); (H/C) hair, I opened the cabinet underneath and pulled out a cream that helped with the mark. I applied it gently onto my skin, careful not to press or put pressure on it too much so it wouldn’t sting. Afterwards, I laid down on my bed wandering what I should do now. I thought writing in my diary or lyrics in my notebook could help. That and there is also my sketchbook in which I spend many ours drawing. As my feet came into contact with the floor, I made my way towards the closet and, reached my hands to the top it, where a bunch of boxes were resting in along with my composition books. Taking the books out from above the box, I accidentally stepped on a shoe as I backed away, causing me to slip from having to stand on my tippy-toes from how high the books were in the closet. Groaning, I stood up and looked at the box that was now opened and had a bunch of photos scattered around in the floor along with the three books. The sound of clatter caused my brother to yell.” Are you okay?!”, He asked from his room as I heard his voice through the thin walls with a yell. “Yeah! I just tripped.”, I yelled back letting him know I was fine. I then gazed towards the photos in the floor, ‘Shit..’, I thought in my head  as I looked at the mess,’ Better clean it up.’

As I brought the box on my neatly made bed, I then leaned down to pick the photos each one catching my eye. I then stopped to look at them, sitting on the bed. There was a boy with blonde hair and bright eyes in the picture as he smiled with a toothy grin, one of his front baby teeth being lost, as he held a large hockey stick and wore a warm uniform in the snow. The young boy looked a lot like Casey as he had the same eyes and growing blonde hair. ‘This was Casey!..”, I thought in my head as the young boy in the photo looked exactly like him, examining further as I realized it.

I then brought my attention to the box next to me looking inside and taking the top of it, placing it gingerly to the side. Inside the box, was a photo album. Taking it out and fixing it as it was all messy from the fall and impact, I looked at the photos inside it all being the same boy; sometimes younger or a bit more older and sometimes with a moan, presumably his father, along with other people I didn’t recognize or know of.’ Was this his photo album?’, I thought as I focused on some baby pictures with the same boy, having short blonde strands on his feeble head, looking curiously at the camera in pure adorableness, as he stared with a big and cute smile on his face, that made my heart melt in awe gushingly.

Flipping through the pages, I found one that caught my sight through the corner of my eye. Stopping my actions to look at it, I inspected the photo. It wasn’t just him in the photo. There was an older yet young blonde boy wearing a light blue puffed jacket with a beanie made out of wool and jeans along with dark blue gloves, and a small girl wearing a sweater underneath her warm and big jacket along with warm gloves on her tiny hands, holding a stuffed bear as they stood in the snowy winter behind them. Staring at the camera with serious yet warm expressions in their faces. It was a photo of Casey and me. 

What made it more shocking was that I remembered this day that it was taken, despite how young I was. Because it stuck to me for a very long time. It was very important to me. 

========================================

1974, L.A. - New York (During Winter)

I was playing around in the snow as I was giggling happily at the sight of it. Aunt Donna was standing beside the car as she stared at me with a warm smile. Grandma was on the porch in her chair on the left side of the porch,

Then I saw Uncle Robert in his brown coat and bored look on his face, as he lit a cigarette on the right side, and Casey standing a few feet away from him leaning on the side of the door.

I then looked towards Auntie and rushed towards her with my tiny feet up the stairs until I reached her on the porch.

“What is it, sweetie?”, Aunt Janet asked as she saw me approach her with a sweet smile.

“Can I, please, go to the park?”, I asked her as I held the stuffed bear close to me.

“Of course.”, She said with a giggle as she walked towards me and leaned down to my level,” I won’t be able to. But I’ll ask Casey to take you.”

She then called Casey over to her, as he stood they’re groaning approaching Aunt Donna as he rolled his eyes, coming down the few set of stairs only to hit the snowy ground to stand right in front of her.

“I need you to take (Y/N) to the park, while I go to the store to pick some things.”, Aunt Janet told him as she then gave him money,” I’m trusting you to watch over her. Buy yourself and her a treat on the way here, Okay.”

She then ruffled my head and Casey’s and went towards the front of the car as she closed the door behind her, starting the car. Pulling away, she waved at me in which in return I did slowly with a gloomy face,” I’ll be back soon.”

Casey and I stood there in the road as she drove away. I went to take Casey’s hand in mine, but he then tugged it away from me rudely, giving me a mean look. I timidly looked down as he did that a bit afraid of him, cowering in fear.” C’mon dork, Let’s go.”, He said as he released a heavy sigh that turned to smoke from the cold, walking away from me.

Walking towards the park nearby, I started to rush towards the swings happily. Playing around the park, I started to look around for Casey only to realize he wasn’t there. This wasn’t the first time he has left me though. Back in school when we would leave after the school rang, we were both supposed to walk to the house together that way I was safe, but he ended up leaving me to walk alone all by myself to the house, not caring what Aunt Janet said about it, even though sometimes she herself would pick us up sometimes from school after work. Once she found out about it, she started to yell at him for doing that and grounded him. But he later sneaked away a couple of times, but I didn’t tell anything to her about it though, because Casey threaten me sometimes. 

That didn’t help me from feeling sad and lonely, though, since I was always alone most of the time. I started to walk towards the direction to the house only to be stopped by four boys around 12. 

“Looks like, we meet again crybaby.”, Tyler ,One of the boys said as he looked at me, noticing I didn’t say anything back to him,” What not gonna say anything about it?”

He then snatched my teddy bear away from me.

“Aren’t you too old to be playing with toys?”, Tyler mocked as he raised it high above me.

“G-give it back.”, I stuttered silently as tears started to prick at my eyes, trying to act tough and remembering something Casey would say when they messed with him from a few fights I have seen him in at school.” or e-else.”

“Or else what?”, He said his face contorting to anger.

Those boys were the bullies at my school. They made fun of me for liking rock music, plus many other things and would embarrass me in front of the whole class with they’re stupid and cruel pranks, they would also harass me constantly nonstop afterschool. They would push me or fight me a bunch of times. No one knew about it though, because I was scared and just weak. Sometimes, I would come to school with bruises on my knees or arms or I would wet myself on the bed because of how panicked I was, even my Aunt notice it and ask me about it. But I would brush it off as a nightmare or that I accidentally tripped on my. There was one person who did though, Casey. I knew because the fights were always after school and he would just stand there from a distance watching me as he drank from a bottle of booze that if Auntie saw he would get punished for it.

“Hey! Did you hear me, you little bitch.”, He shouted at me as he grabbed me by my shoulders shaking me violently.

“L-let me go.”, I told him as he gripped my arms tightly,” Y-you’re hurting me.”

He then shoved me hard on the floor as he then stood above me.” Ouch!”, I yelled as he kicked me making me tear up from the pain.

“Aww, the little baby’s gonna cry.”, One of the boys said as the other two chuckled cruelly at me.

Tyler then snatched my hair as my back was towards him on the ground, then pressing my head against the ground.

The other boys then started to gang up on me and surround me as I felt small beneath their gaze. 

They all started kick me, each impact of their feet making me tear up and suffer much worse. It didn’t help it either that they were wearing shoes. I begged them with tears in my eyes to stop, but they only kept kicking me and mocked me for being weak.

I begged and cried I then scooted away from them with as much force as I could to my already throbbing legs, I then felt my leg being grabbed. As reflex and defense, I used my other leg to kick the person hard in the face causing them to let go of my leg and grab at their face, groaning. I then leaned both of my arms as I looked at the person that snatched my leg ,Tyler,  in shock at what I did. 

As he let his hand fall away from his face I notice his lip begin to drip with something red as he spit some on the ground, tainting the pure white snow with it. He then looked at his hand as hand that had a few drops of them and stared at me with a steely look that could kill anyone.

“I-i’m sorry.”, I whimpered out as I sniffed out, still scooting away from him as I laid at my side, looking at him with tears in my eyes, my nose red from the cold and from crying too much in agony. 

“You are so dead.”, He said with a dark stare as he angrily approached me. Tyler then snatched my hair as my back was towards him on the ground, then pressing my head against the ground., ” No one is gonna fucking hear you, because you are the annoying, fat , weak, freaky ,little crybaby that you are. You hear me!”

Hearing these words made me tear up even more making my cheeks red and damp as he kicked me with each word said in my ear, it also got me thinking if whether that was true or not. If I was really alone right now, that no one was gonna help me. I then laid my head down as I kept crying silently, giving up.

The boys kept kicking me of course, as I begged them to stop. Then suddenly I heard someone yell.

“What the fuc-!”, Before they were cut off.

Tyler’s grip on my hair loosened as he watch the scene, giving me the perfect time to quietly escape from his grasp. Hissing and groaning slightly from the suffering that was inflicting my body. I tried to crawl away from the scene. I then looked over my shoulders to see a boy with blonde hair on top of someone punching Tyler’s face over and over again. Only to stop and get off of them. The boy then turned around to look at me only for their face to be recognized. It was Casey, who’s nose was dripping red with blood. He then rushed towards me and leaned down, with his eyes wide and sucking a breath as he saw my state. He then looked towards the boys who were helping Tyler out from the floor. Breathing heavily in the middle of a panic attack, I curled into a ball crying silently.

“Do you need a fucking hint?”, Casey yelled at them his eyes pissed with furiousness in them as he pierced them with his intense stare.,” Fuck off!”

The boys as soon as they heard that dashed away, dragging Tyler along with them. 

Casey ignoring them and looking at my traumatized face, with guilt and regret.

“Fuck!”, He said as he looked at my legs and arms.

“Y-you’re hurt.”, I whimpered out as I was still curled into a ball looking at him.

“What.”, He said as he looked at me with worry.

“You got hurt because of me! I’m sorry!”, I cried out as I closed my eyes letting my tears to fall down my already puffed and red cheeks. Casey seeing this panicked and held my shoulders gently. “No no no no It’s not okay. Forget about the fucked up nose. I’m fine. Okay.”

He then extended his hand towards me which I took in mine with a tremble. Helping out from the snow.

He then hugged me tightly all of a sudden, catching me by surprise and making me flinch but later I, with shaking and feeble arms in pain, embraced him back, as I sniffled. Calming down from the embrace, Casey softly and slowly released me letting his hands to fall on my shoulders. “You wanna go on the swings.”

I then nodded sadly as I sniffled, he then grabbed my hand gently, not letting it go or shooing it away. I in return gripped it tightly, afraid that it would soon disappear from my hands as I stuck closely by him shaken a bit still from what  happened.

We then walked silently towards the park again. I couldn’t help but look at his nose in shame as it kept dripping, staining his shirt.

“Y-you’re nose. its red.”, I told him in a whisper only for him to look towards me.

“What?”, He asked as he kept walking, his feet scrunching beneath the snowy white ground.

“Y-you’re nose is red.”, I commented this time a little louder so he could hear me clearly.

“Yeah, No shit sherlock.”, He said sarcastically as he looked ahead, making me looked down sadly. Casey noticed this and muttered a small ‘sorry’ to me

We spend the rest of the day, on the park hanging on the swings. Casey sitting on one of them next to me, and I on the other as we both held hands, afraid to say any words or to let go.

“Casey....” I spoke quietly not looking at him.

“Yeah...”, He said as he didn’t look at me as well.

“Do you think I’m annoying and a freak?”, I asked weakly as casted my eyes down sadly at the white and pale snow on the ground.

“Well.....no.”, He said as he turned his head away,” I think you are a whole lot  more than those things.”

“You mean it.”, I said as I looked at him with wide eyes.

“Yes I do. Trust me.”, He said as he squeezed my tiny hand into his large warm one for comfort and to reassure me.

“What if those bullies come back?”, I asked worriedly as my hand and body stiffened at the thought, suddenly unmoving.

“They won’t”, He said with confidence as he looked towards me with soft eyes.

“How do you know for sure?”, I asked him not convinced with his answer or trusting his words, filling my mind with doubt.

“Because, I will kick their asses again if they do.”, He said firmly as he held my hand in his tightly and softly as he squeezed them.,” and  I- I will always be there for you....”

“I promise”

========================

{AUTHOR’S NOTE}

Hello again dear reader’s this is the last part of the prologue. We finally met our adorable and crazy Tommy in this one. I hope I wrote his personality and his character as I accurate as I can. This took me a lot to write too. Anyways, thanks for anyone who reads this and loves it as much as I do. Sorry for any one who was awaiting a lot for it. Comment your thoughts about it if you liked it. Hope to see you again on the next update. Love you guys and Hoped you Enjoyed it!

{LIKE AND REBLOG IF YOU LIKED IT 💕}

[thefreakymunson]

Anon, I totally agree! And I give you my first shot at Darby/Moxley...hope you like it!

He shoved the backstage doors open with such a fiercness that they bounced off the walls with a loud bang. It killed him to hurt Darby like that, until he was lifeless in the ring. This was a rough lifestyle, but Moxley never backed down from a challenge. Even if it was the man he was sweet on. He couldn't sit and watch the referee's cary his body backstage. He had to get out of this arena, away from the small crowd. He just needed to leave. He couldn't see them fixing his boys body, knowing he caused him all the pain. If only Darby knew how to stay down...

The begging before the match was enough to make him crazy. Darby wasn't going to back down from Moxley, at all. He had what he wanted. He wanted the title. And Moxley wasn't one to be threatened. Especially by tiny, tiny Darby Allin. 'Just please...when it comes time to stay down, Allin...stay down.' Moxley had plead with him, only to be ignored, which only drove him a bit more crazy. Moxley didn't stick around long after the match ended. He got his forehead sewed up, and then grabbed his bags and dipped. He would be much more sound minded at the hotel when everything had calmed down, after a much needed shower and a beer. Three hours later, Darby stumbled into their shared hotel room. He could smell the scent of Moxley's body wash as the steam spilled out from a cracked bathroom door. Good. He would have a moment to just relax before he got scolded by Jon. He sat his bags down on the bed and carefully sat himself down beside of them, cradling his aching head, taking a minute to calm himself down. He had a rough night. They both did, and Darby knew it was far from over. The squeak of the shower knobs being turned off was the only sound in the room, and Darby caught himself holding his breath. He looked up when Moxley walked out from the bathroom wearing only a towel wrapped around his waist. There was a long silence as Moxley looked at his beaten and battered face. His bottom lip was swollen on the side and there was a small black bruise forming under his left eye. He was already sore, and Mox knew he would be kissing it all better in a few minutes, but for now?....now, they needed to have a talk. "You okay?" Moxley leaned against the doorframe and sighed softly. "You beat the livin' shit out of me...do you think I'm okay?" Darby shot him a glare that told him to go to hell, but his face softened when he seen the concern etched into the larger mans face, "No...I'm not." "Darby, I told you...to stay down."

"And what would that have proved?" Darby stood up, wincing at the pain radiating through his lower back, "That I'm some pussy who just does what he's told? You know that's not me. I wanted that title...I wanted the world to know that I am good enough to be a champion." "You are good enough to be a champion..." Jon shrugged, "Just...not now. And not from me. It was a good shot, though." Moxley shrugged his shoulders, "You almost had me." "I did have you," Darby shook his head, "If it weren't for that slow ass count, I would have been the winner." "It's cute that you think so," he tightened the towel around his waist and sighed softly, "You're good...but I don't think you can beat me just yet. You need more muscle." "Whatever," Darby sighed and peeled his coat off, the black and white paint still smeared over his body, "I'm taking a shower." With that, Darby gathered his clothing and towels. He went to walk past Moxley, when suddenly the larger mans arm came out and stopped him from entering the bathroom. Darby turned to look at him, and felt himself gulp at how close they were. Moxleys face was mere inches away from his now, and Darby could hear his heartbeat in his ears. Moxley fixated himself on Darby's lower lip, wanting so bad to kiss the swollen part, but stopping himself. He just had a shower and got the paint from his body. However, post shower was going to be a different story. "When you get out...I'll make you feel better." Moxley's voice was just above a whisper, "Hurry up." Darby stood still when he lowered his arm and walked away, taking a minute to calm himself down. This wasn't anything new. It wasn't an exact secret they fucked around with each other. Moxley never failed to send chills up his spine. Moxley sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for Darby to finish his shower. He had every mind to go in the bathroom and have him there, however, he knew Darby needed time to cool down. He laid back and sighed, looking up at the ceiling. This had been a rough day for the both of them. The water cut off and he heard shuffling in the other room, knowing he was probably getting dressed. To his surprise, however, the door opened to reveal Darby standing there fully naked, drying his hair by ruffling it with a towel. Moxley proped himself up on his elbows as he watched him strut through the room, biting his bottom lip. This man...just done something to him he couldn't explain. He got under his skin in the best type of way. It was almost as if Moxley was teetering on the edge of insanity when it came to Darby. "Why you lookin' at me like that?" Darby dug through his bag. "Come here." Moxley sat up. Darby laughed at that and grabbed his cologne, and had turned around to walk back into the bathroom when he felt a large hand grasp his shoulder and spin him back around. Immediately, he found Moxley's lips on his, his large hands grasping either side of his face, and he felt his defenses crumble. He knew his attitude drove men like Moxley insane, and he loved it when he came unhinged. With ease, Moxley shoved him into the closest corner, and trapped his body between Moxleys heated body, and the cold walls. His kisses were relentless, and it wasn't long before the two men were a flurry of rushed touching and caresses. Moxley's beard scraped at Darby's neck as he kissed down to his collar bone, but Darby pulled him against him, and their mouths found one another, tongues battling for the control they both knew Moxley would eventually have. The feelings Darby had against him earlier in the night had completely vanished by the time his cock was wrapped in Mox's hand, moaning into his kiss as Jon jerked him off teasingly. Moxley towered over him, this man was the hulk compared to his small stature, but that was what Darby found the most appealing and sexy. This man could fully dominate him, and what the fuck would Darby's options even be? Moxley didn't even have to ask, Darby just instinctively dropped to his knees for him. Mox's hard cock was quickly engulfed by his hot mouth, causing the larger man to moan. He held the back of Darby's head, guiding him for a few minutes, before letting his need take over. He thrust his hips forward, causing Darby to stop. Moxley groaned, pushing his head down on his cock as he fucked that pretty blonde headed face. "Fuck," Moxley breathed as he stilled his motions, and Darby pulled his mouth away from him. Neither of them wanted this to end this soon. Their emotions were too high, and they both needed that connection. "Get on the bed," Moxley said breathlessly, watching as Darby stumbled hazedly over to the bed, gasping for air as he wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. He knew he wasn't finished sucking his cock, and he was ready for more in an instant. As soon as Moxley stood in front of him, he sucked the tip of his cock back into his mouth, causing Moxley to hiss at the sensation. He stroked Darbys hair back, tenatively telling him how great it felt, showing his appreciation for the smaller man's mouth. It was so much different than the angry man in the ring. The firm sternness was still there, underlying, waiting for the moment to rear its ugly head again. But right now?...Moxley let himself enjoy the feeling of Darby sucking his cock with a vigor he hadn't felt before. Moxley pulled his head off of him by his short hair, watching the string of spit fall from the tip of his cock leading to his mouth, and said breathlessly, "What do you want?" "For you to fuck me," Darby said as he wiped his mouth, "As always." Moxley pulled him up by his chin and kissed him, tasting himself on Darby's lips, as he crawled up the bed, forcing Darby onto his back. Moxley spit into his hand, and then held his hand out in front of Darby to do the same, before grasping Darbys cock and stroking it, watching as the smaller man's body squirmed in pleasure. Darby reached over onto the night stand and grabbed the lube, knowing Moxley had it tucked away in the drawer as usual, before generously coating Jon's cock, matching the pace Moxley was stroking him to. They were puty in each others hands in that moment, both of them thrusting into the others hands. Moxley had enough of the teasing, and easily moved Darby around until he was satisfied. Darby was on his knees underneath Moxley, his ass in the air, with two of Moxleys fingers prying into his ass. He tried to relax, but the need was too much. It was such a weird emotion, to need the man who just beat you in the ring for the title you cared about so much. There was a need on a much deeper level, but Darby pushed that into the back of his mind. He wasn't sure what this was between the two of them, but he would take what he could get. He would take whatever Moxley gave out. Maybe he was the sick son of a bitch rather than Moxley... It wasn't much longer after that, Moxley was buried deep inside of his ass, causing both of their moans to fill the room. Moxleys weight pinned Darby to the bed, his chest pressed into the back of Darbys shoulders, making it hard to breathe, but it was a welcomed sensation. He was surounded by Moxley, overcome and outweighed by a lot. He couldn't move Moxley off of him even if he wanted to. Moxley was bent over the top of him, thrusting as deep as he could, using all of his weight to keep Darby pinned down, as he shoved his fingers into Darbys mouth, moaning into his ear about how bad he wanted to fuck him in the middle of the ring, in front of everyone, just to let everyone know that he belonged to Moxley, knowing that Darby couldn't speak back with his fingers halfway down his throat. With a swift motion, Moxley done something Darby would have never expected. He rolled them over so that Darby was on top, his legs spread as wide as possible, as Moxley gripped his hips, his fingernails digging into his sensitive skin, turning him around to face him. In no time, Darby was riding Moxleys cock with the same pace as he sucked him earlier, fast and needy. Moxley guided him with ease, using his small body however he felt the need. With one free hand, he gripped Darbys cock with his saliva covered fingers and as Darby moved back and forth ontop of him, he fucked Moxleys hand in union. He felt Moxleys cock throbbing even faster, knowing he was close, and it wasn't long before he felt Moxleys hot cum filling the inside of him, crying out as it spurred his own orgasm on. Thick white ropes of cum gushed out over Moxleys lower stomach as Darby cried out. He shuddered from exhaustion and pleasure as he rode out his orgasm, milking every bit out of Moxley that he could, before collapsing on the bed beside of him. They laid there for a few minutes, too spent to say anything, but finally, Moxley cleaned the mess off of his stomach and turned to see Darby staring at him. He leaned over and kissed Darbys lips not once, not twice, but three times, before he pulled the smaller man to him and cradled his head to his chest, nuzzling his nose into that familiar head of bleached white hair, and closing his eyes as he felt Darby nuzzle him back, staying like that for a few minutes, before Moxley laid flat on his back and Darby draped himself over his large frame, the two becoming a tangled mess of limbs and exhausted bodies, fighting to control their breathing. Their fingers tangled together and Darby looked up to see Moxleys eyes closed. "You know...that title will be mine one day." Darby said softly, resting his chin on Mox's chest. "Sure," Mox said with his eyes still closed, "You just won't win it from me."

[thearvariblues]

The Bard And The Wolf - Chapter One

(AKA Geraskier in the Metal Band AU you didn’t know you needed)

The fic you may have already met on AO3, but now I’ve decided to start posting it on my Tumblr, too, in hopes that more people could find it that way, and maybe even enjoy it. :)

The masterpost for this fic can be found HERE.

1 - Endings And Beginnings

“Kaer Morhen are a bunch of morons, that’s all I’m saying,” said Jaskier, running his fingers through his brown hair to make it more artistically ruffled.

“Yes, Jaskier. We know,” Dave, the guitarist, growled and rolled his eyes.

“But you know which one of them is the worst?”

“Do tell,” Dave sighed.

“That lead singer of theirs, of course,” Jaskier smirked. “Geralt of Rivia. The Witcher. The White Wolf. Honey, how many nicknames do you need? You’re in a fucking metal band, dear heart, this is not some kind of a larp!”

Mike, the drummer, raised his hand.

“Is that why you call yourself The Bard?”

“That’s… Yeah, that isn’t any different,” Jaskier sighed. “Fuck. I just wish they weren’t so damn good.”

“They’re pretty good, yeah,” Dave agreed.

“More like we’re pretty shit,” Mike said.

“Oh, come on, guys. We’re not shit. We just… Need to find ourselves, that’s all. Actually, I have a few songs I think you might like, just here, in my...”

“I don’t think that will be necessary, Julian,” Dave said, just the second someone knocked at the door of their rehearsal room.

“Jaskier,” he said automatically, turning his head to see who the newcomer was. He blinked. “And what exactly is this bitch doing here?”

“Yeah, we wanted to tell you before he comes, but… never mind,” Dave shrugged. “We know we’re not shit, Julian. You’re shit. So… This is our new singer.”

Jaskier blinked, several times, his brain doing its very best to process what was happening here. He was sure he must have misheard, because surely Dave didn’t just say that…

“Valdo Marx,” he growled. “You fire me and hire fucking Valdo Marx as your lead singer?!”

“Basically,” Mike nodded. “Sorry, Jules.”

“You can’t do this,” Jaskier said, though the argument sounded weak even to his own ears. “Dandelions are my band. Mine.”

“Were,” the newcomer said. Jaskier took a proper look at him. The bitch had blonde hair, styled basically the same as himself, bright green eyes, tight black pants and a silk shirt with its top buttons undone, just as Jaskier wore it… He even copied the goddamn eyeliner.

“You gotta be kidding me,” Jaskier said. He felt his voice begin to tremble.

“We’re not,” Dave said. “Really sorry, Julian.”

“Yeah, sorry, not sorry, Julian,” Valdo smirked. “Don’t let the door hit you on your way out.”

Tears welled up in Jaskier’s eyes. No, this won’t do. He won’t let them see him cry. Also, artfully smudged eyeliner was fine, but tear-smudged? He won’t be caught dead with tear-smudged eyeliner.

So he grabbed his bag and his guitar and got to his feet.

“Yeah, right. As you wish, fuckers,” he growled. “See you never.”

He had to pass Valdo on his way out and it took all his willpower not to punch the son of a bitch in his ugly, smirking face.

He wasn’t even out of the building yet when the tears began to spill.

*

He wasn’t sure where he was going. He was just walking. When he was walking, the sadness wasn’t so bad. He was afraid to stop, because he was pretty sure that if he did, he would surely fall apart. That was also the reason why he didn’t just go home, no matter how much he wanted to.

He didn’t want to have to process the fact that he had been kicked out of his band just like that. His. The band he put together, the band he wrote lyrics and music for, the band that he had kept together for the past two years. And then those bitches decide that he’s not worth their time anymore?!

Maybe he should have tried more. He should have told them they were welcome to have their own band without him, but he shouldn’t have let him used the name, Dandelions, the name he himself chose…

He was forced to stop dead in his tracks when a door he was just about to pass got thrown open and a dark-haired woman stormed out, followed by a tall and muscular white-haired man dressed all in black.

Jaskier gulped, because while he didn’t immediately recognize the woman (mainly because she was busy stomping towards a nearby car), he would recognize the man anywhere.

Geralt of Rivia. The Witcher. And the lead singer of Kaer Morhen, the very band Jaskier had dramatically proclaimed his rivals.

Which meant that the woman had to be…

“Yennefer,” Geralt sighed. “Come on.”

“No. I’m, done,” she said, opening the car door. “I’ve heard enough. Either you get Lambert and Renfri under control, or I’m out of here. I won’t be called a witch–”

“They didn’t mean it like that and you know it.”

“Neither will I be called a bitch, Geralt, and they definitely meant that!” she growled. “It’s your decision. Me, or them?”

Silence fell for a few seconds. Geralt stared at the woman, she stared back at him. Finally, she cocked up an eyebrow and he crossed his arms over his chest in a defensive manner.

“Oh. You mean I should decide now?” he asked.

She chuckled in a way that made it clear that she was desperately trying not to rip his head off.

“You know what? Go to hell, Geralt. Keep your merry band. I’m out. Good luck finding a new singer, you bitch.”

With that, she got in her car and slammed the door shut.

“Fuck,” Geralt muttered and turned back to the building, just as Yennefer drove off. He stopped and blinked when he saw Jaskier standing there, his mouth agape.

“Uhm,” Jaskier managed. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to… watch that. I just… nearly got hit by that door, and before I realized what was happening, she was already yelling at you and… sorry. Leaving now. Sorry. Really sorry. I’m already gone, see?”

“Wait,” Geralt said, his voice deep and husky. “You’re the singer from Dandelions, aren’t you? That… bard.”

“The Bard,” Jaskier corrected before he could think better of it.

“Yeah. Jaskier, isn’t it?” the White Wolf smirked, and Jaskier could feel his heart flutter. Christ. The guy knew his name?

“That’s me,” he said as casually as he could manage. “But you’re wrong about the Dandelions thing. I’m the… former… singer. I’ve just been kicked out.”

“Wow. Sucks,” said a voice from the door. Jaskier turned his head to see a young woman standing there. She had dark, wavy hair that barely reached her shoulders, and her face was almost too cute for a metal band. “You look like you need a drink, buttercup. Where’s our witch, Geralt?”

“Gone,” Geralt smirked. “Did you really have to call her a bitch, Renfri?”

“That wasn’t me, but Lambert. I only call her a witch,” she protested. “Are you going to invite this kicked puppy in, or are you waiting for him to break down?”

“Oh, no, no, I...” Jaskier swallowed and tried to blink back the tears. “I really should be going. Sorry about the whole… witnessing this. Nice to meet you, I guess. I… okay, I really should be shutting up. See you around.”

“Wait. Bard,” said Geralt’s husky voice and Jaskier’s legs refused to cooperate. “Come in and have a drink with us. You really look like you need it.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do, actually.”

And he did.

Was he really gonna have the aforementioned drink with the members of Kaer Morhen, though?

Apparently.

Why?

Damned if he knew.

Before he could change his mind, he took a deep breath and followed Renfri and Geralt into the building.

*

Oh, dear, this was a bad idea, he thought when he stepped into the rehearsal room and all the eyes turned to him.

“Geralt?” said a tall, long-haired man who was sprawled on one of the sofas in the room. “Hate to tell you this, but if your ex didn’t suddenly change her sex, you might have grabbed the wrong person outside.”

A very, very bad idea. What were you thinking, stupid, stupid–

“Jaskier!” a girl’s voice squeaked. “Oh my god, that’s Jaskier! From Dandelions!”

“I probably failed to mention,” Geralt, who was standing next to Jaskier, smirked, “that my daughter, who just happens to be here, adores your music.”

“Wow. Thanks,” Jaskier muttered. “So you didn’t invite me for a drink, but just to show me off to your daughter?”

“Both, actually,” Geralt shrugged and turned to a young blonde (seriously, she could be barely fifteen) standing in front of them with her bright eyes wide, clearly unsure what she should do. “Jaskier, this is Ciri. Ciri… Well, you know who this is.”

“Yes. Jaskier,” she repeated, and he was starting to feel a little better, because at least someone in this world apparently liked him. “From–”

“Formerly. Sorry. I’ve just been kicked out,” he blurted before he could think better of it. Only when he saw her eyes going impossibly wider did he realize his mistake.

“Dandelions are a bunch of dicks,” Renfri said, handing him a glass of bright golden liquid. “Don’t look at me like that, Geralt, Ciri’s heard worse.”

“Besides, it’s true. They are a bunch of dicks,” Jaskier said, accepting the glass and downing the contents in a single gulp. That was his second mistake in the last few seconds, because his throat immediately started to feel like it was on fire. “Holy flipping...” he croaked. “Oh, dear, this is gonna put even more hair on my chest. Wow. What the hell was that?!”

“Rule number one, never ask Renfri what is the drink she just gave you. Trust me, you don’t wanna know,” the last man in the room laughed.

“Shut it, Eskel,” Renfri said. “It’s perfectly safe.”

“I’m sorry, my hangover from yesterday begs to differ,” said the tall man on the sofa.

“And you too, Lambert,” Renfri growled. “I didn’t force half a bottle down your throat, you–”

“Enough,” Geralt said, and the room went quiet. “Cirilla, stop gaping. Jaskier, sit down. In fact, everyone, sit down.”

“Uhm, thanks,” Jaskier muttered. “But I probably should be going. I mean...”

“Sit,” Geralt repeated. “Renfri, another drink. Cirilla, what have I just told you?”

“How… They can’t just kick you out!” Ciri exclaimed. “It’s your band!”

“Was,” Jaskier shrugged, deciding to claim a nearby chair. He was really starting to regret ever coming here. He really didn’t want to have to explain, but this girl was looking at him with those big, sorrowful eyes… “They thought I was shit. So now… It’s Valdo Marx’s band.”

“Valdo Marx?” Renfri said. “Isn’t that the ass who was following us around last month, dressed all in black, trying to convince us he’s better than Geralt?”

“Yeah, I think that’s him,” Lambert agreed. “Shame he’s taken. We could have slapped a wig on his head and pretended he’s Yennefer. Uhm, where is our lovely queen, by the way? Waiting for you to come running after her, as usual?”

“I don’t think so. It seemed she really meant it when she said she was leaving for good,” Geralt sighed.

“You know mother’s always dramatic,” Ciri said and sat down in a chair next to Jaskier’s. “She’ll be back before we know it. Or we can slap a wig on Jaskier here and pretend it’s her.”

“Oh, dear heart, I don’t think I’m pretty enough to pull that off,” Jaskier laughed. He was still feeling like shit, but he was kind of glad for this distraction. Besides, the thought of Valdo Marx in a long wig was just hilarious. And the booze was great. He didn’t know how, but he was already on his fourth glass.

“Besides, if she’s not coming back, we need someone who can sing things like… like… Song of the White Wolf,” Eskel said.

It was the alcohol. It had to be the alcohol. There was no other logical explanation of why Jaskier cleared his throat, took a deep breath and began to sing a song he’d only ever sung in the privacy of his shower.

“The call of the White Wolf is loudest at the dawn… The call of a stone heart is broken and alone… Born of Kaer Morhen… Born of No Love… The song of the White Wolf is cold as driven snow...”

He realized the room had went completely silent, so he shut up and opened the eyes he didn’t even remember closing. Everyone was staring at him. Especially Ciri. And her father.

“Well,” Eskel said. “I meant a chick. But this was good. If we ever need someone to replace Geralt...”

“You won’t replace me with him,” Geralt argued. “I’m the growl. This is a clean vocal. Damned good clean vocal, too. But as you said, even if Yennefer isn’t coming back, we need a female singer.”

“Shame,” Ciri said. “I’d really like to hear you sing a duet with dad.”

“Honey, I’m afraid I’m really not the right singer for a metal band,” Jaskier laughed. “The best I can do is sing you The Fishmonger’s Daughter.”

Ciri’s whole face lit up like a candle at that.

“You can?” she asked, her eyes immediately going to her father for confirmation.

“Uhm, I mean,” Jaskier said as he felt blood rushing to his face. “I shouldn’t, it’s not a song for, uhm, young listeners...”

“Don’t worry about it. She knows the terrible thing by heart,” Geralt chuckled. “Just sing. We’ll survive. Your voice isn’t the worst thing that can happen to us today.”

“Definitely better than Valdo Marx,” Renfri chuckled.

“I certainly hope so,” Jaskier said, looking around. “Right, in that case, I need my lovely guitar...”

*

A few days later, Jaskier had almost forgotten all about this little encounter. He spent the afternoon with Kaer Morhen (and Ciri), sang them a few funny songs and left, his legs only slightly unsteady.

He thought nothing of it. But then there came the call from an unknown number.

“Jaskier,” he said when he answered.

“Hello,” said the voice from the phone. “This is Geralt. From Kaer Morhen,” the voice added. As if Jaskier needed that clarification. As if he didn’t recognize him just from the Hello.

“Oh. Fuck,” Jaskier swore helpfully. “I mean… Hi. How can I help you? If there’s any lasting damage to your daughter’s mental health caused by my songs, I would like to remind you that I definitely told you they weren’t–”

“You’re in.”

“Ex…cuse me?”

“Yennefer refuses to come back. That means we need a clean vocalist.”

“Yes. Uhm. I’m not sure if you noticed, but I’m definitely not female. And that whole thing with a wig won’t work, I mean, I would need like three razors only to shave my chest, don’t get me started about my legs...”

“We’ve changed our mind. We don’t want a female singer. We want you.”

“You have got to be kidding me,” Jaskier muttered. “How… How did you even get my number?”

“From a fan you slept with.”

“Yeah, that narrows it down.”

Geralt chuckled.

“Look, I’m giving you this chance because Ciri and Renfri have been nagging me for days now, and because we… we all think you are really good. And we would like to try and play a few songs with you, for a start, and then… then we’ll see what happens.”

“My god,” Jaskier sighed. “You are serious, aren’t you?”

“Dead serious,” Geralt agreed. “By the way, remember that Battle of the Bands that happens in two months? The one that Dandelions are participating in?”

“The one for the record contract?”

“That one,” Geralt said. “I just want you to know Kaer Morhen are also taking part in it. So if you want a chance to kick Valdo Marx’s ass...”

Jaskier’s breath hitched in his throat. He could almost feel Geralt smiling at the other end of the line. That goddamned Wolf was playing him like a lute, and Jaskier couldn’t bring himself to mind.

“I’m in,” he said.

He heard a girl squeal somewhere near Geralt, and the Wolf let out a tiny laugh.

“Our rehearsal room, tonight at seven. Does that work for you, or do you have a date with some other fan?”

“Only with Netflix and a bottle of wine, and I can definitely reschedule that,” Jaskier said. “I’ll be there.”

“Good,” Geralt said. “We’ll be looking forward to seeing you.”

And Jaskier’s heart definitely didn’t flutter when he heard those words…

*

Five minutes later, Jaskier decided to finally do a thing he had been putting off for days and opened his Instagram. He knew it was flooded with questions about him apparently throwing Dandelions under a bus and deciding, quite suddenly, to leave. He found that out when he accidentally opened the app once, just after leaving Kaer Morhen’s rehearsal room, and saw about twenty messages and comments. And that was only a start. Two hours later he was forced to turn the notifications off.

The Dandelions were really quick getting the news out, he had to give them that.

He opened the app, ignored all the messages and went straight to adding a new photo. He knew exactly what he wanted to post. He’d been thinking about it for days.

There was a photo in his phone he was really proud of – a dandelion going to seed. He’s taken the photo that spring. The angle was perfect, the lighting was perfect, everything was just perfect, but back then, the picture seemed too depressing to post. But right now, it was… Well, perfect.

So he used a black-and-white filter and took a deep breath before he started to type a comment.

Hello, my darlings. As many of you already know, I parted ways with Dandelions – well, in fact, it was the other way around and it were Dandelions who parted ways with me. I won’t give any details, so don’t even bother asking. But don’t worry. Because when a dandelion goes out of bloom, it releases seeds that can take root… well, anywhere. What I want to say – this isn’t the end of my story, quite the opposite. And I’m already taking root, dear hearts. And trust me – if it works out, it’s going to be BIG!

#dandelions #newbeginnings #justwaitforit

Continue with Chapter Two

[brightbeautifulthings]

MAYHEM BY ESTELLE LAURE BLOG TOUR & CHAPTER EXCERPT

The Lost Boys meets Wilder Girls in this supernatural feminist YA novel.

Available July 14th, 2020

It's 1987 and unfortunately it's not all Madonna and cherry lip balm. Mayhem Brayburn has always known there was something off about her and her mother, Roxy. Maybe it has to do with Roxy's constant physical pain, or maybe with Mayhem's own irresistible pull to water. Either way, she knows they aren't like everyone else.

But when May's stepfather finally goes too far, Roxy and Mayhem flee to Santa Maria, California, the coastal beach town that holds the answers to all of Mayhem's questions about who her mother is, her estranged family, and the mysteries of her own self. There she meets the kids who live with her aunt, and it opens the door to the magic that runs through the female lineage in her family, the very magic Mayhem is next in line to inherit and which will change her life for good.

But when she gets wrapped up in the search for the man who has been kidnapping girls from the beach, her life takes another dangerous turn and she is forced to face the price of vigilante justice and to ask herself whether revenge is worth the cost.

From the acclaimed author of This Raging Light and But Then I Came Back, Estelle Laure offers a riveting and complex story with magical elements about a family of women contending with what appears to be an irreversible destiny, taking control and saying when enough is enough.

About the Author:

Estelle Laure, the author of This Raging Light and But Then I Came Back believes in love, magic, and the power of facing hard truths. She has a BA in Theatre Arts and an MFA from Vermont College of Fine Arts in Writing for Children and Young Adults, and she lives in Taos, New Mexico, with her family. Her work is translated widely around the world. 

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Read on for a special chapter excerpt of Mayhem!

three Santa Maria

“Trouble,” Roxy says. She arches a brow at the kids by the van through the bug-spattered windshield, the ghost of a half-smile rippling across her face.

“You would know,” I shoot.

“So would you,” she snaps.

Maybe we’re a little on edge. We’ve been in the car so long the pattern on the vinyl seats is tattooed on the back of my thighs.

The kids my mother is talking about, the ones sitting on the white picket fence, look like they slithered up the hill out of the ocean, covered in seaweed, like the carnival music we heard coming from the boardwalk as we were driving into town plays in the air around them at all times. Two crows are on the posts beside them like they’re standing guard, and they caw at each other loudly as we come to a stop. I love every- thing about this place immediately and I think, ridiculously, that I am no longer alone.

The older girl, white but tan, curvaceous, and lean, has her arms around the boy and is lovely with her smudged eye makeup and her ripped clothes. The younger one pops some- thing made of bright colors into her mouth and watches us come up the drive. She is in a military-style jacket with a ton of buttons, her frizzy blond hair reaching in all directions, freckles slapped across her cheeks. And the boy? Thin, brown, hungry-looking. Not hungry in his stomach. Hungry with his eyes. He has a green bandana tied across his forehead and holes in the knees of his jeans. There’s an A in a circle drawn in marker across the front of his T-shirt.

Anarchy.

“Look!” Roxy points to the gas gauge. It’s just above the E. “You owe me five bucks, Cookie. I told you to trust we would make it, and see what happened? You should listen to your mama every once in a while.”

“Yeah, well, can I borrow the five bucks to pay you for the bet? I’m fresh out of cash at the moment.”

“Very funny.”

Roxy cranes out the window and wipes the sweat off her upper lip, careful not to smudge her red lipstick. She’s been having real bad aches the last two days, even aside from her bruises, and her appetite’s been worse than ever. The only thing she ever wants is sugar. After having been in the car for so long, you’d think we’d be falling all over each other to get out, but we’re still sitting in the car. In here we’re still us.

She sighs for the thousandth time and clutches at her belly. “I don’t know about this, May.”

California can’t be that different from West Texas.

I watch TV. I know how to say gag me with a spoon and grody to the max.

I fling open the door.

Roxy gathers her cigarettes and lighter, and drops them in- side her purse with a snap.

“Goddammit, Elle,” she mutters to herself, eyes flickering toward the kids again. Roxy looks at me over the rims of her sunglasses before shoving them back on her nose. “Mayhem, I’m counting on you to keep your head together here. Those kids are not the usual—”

“I know! You told me they’re foster kids.” 

“No, not that,” she says, but doesn’t clarify. “Okay, I guess.”

“I mean it. No more of that wild-child business.”

“I will keep my head together!” I’m so tired of her saying this. I never had any friends, never a boyfriend—all I have is what Grandmother calls my nasty mouth and the hair Lyle always said was ugly and whorish. And once or twice I might’ve got drunk on the roof, but it’s not like I ever did anything. Besides, no kid my age has ever liked me even once. I’m not the wild child in the family.

“Well, all right then.” Roxy messes with her hair in the rear- view mirror, then sprays herself with a cloud of Chanel No. 5 and runs her fingers over her gold necklace. It’s of a bird, not unlike the ones making a fuss by the house. She’s had it as long as I can remember, and over time it’s been worn smooth by her worrying fingers. It’s like she uses it to calm herself when she’s upset about something, and she’s been upset the whole way here, practically. Usually, she’d be good and buzzed by this time of day, but since she’s had to drive some, she’s only nipped from the tiny bottle of wine in her purse a few times and only taken a couple pills since we left Taylor. The with- drawal has turned her into a bit of a she-demon.

I try to look through her eyes, to see what she sees. Roxy hasn’t been back here since I was three years old, and in that time, her mother has died, her father has died, and like she said when she got the card with the picture enclosed that her twin sister, Elle, sent last Christmas, Everybody got old. After that, she spent a lot of time staring in the mirror, pinching at her neck skin. When I was younger, she passed long nights telling me about Santa Maria and the Brayburn Farm, about how it was good and evil in equal measure, about how it had desires that had to be satisfied.

Brayburns, she would say. In my town, we were the legends. 

These were the mumbled stories of my childhood, and they made everything about this place loom large. Now that we’re here, I realize I expected the house to have a gaping maw filled with spitty, frothy teeth, as much as I figured there would be fairies flitting around with wands granting wishes. I don’t want to take her vision away from her, but this place looks pretty normal to me, if run-down compared to our new house in Taylor, where there’s no dust anywhere, ever, and Lyle prac- tically keeps the cans of soup in alphabetical order. Maybe what’s not so normal is that this place was built by Brayburns, and here Brayburns matter. I know because the whole road is named after us and because flowers and ribbons and baskets of fruit sat at the entrance, gifts from the people in town, Roxy said. They leave offerings. She said it like it’s normal to be treated like some kind of low-rent goddess.

Other than the van and the kids, there are trees here, rose- bushes, an old black Mercedes, and some bikes leaning against the porch that’s attached to the house. It’s splashed with fresh white paint that doesn’t quite cover up its wrinkles and scars. It’s three stories, so it cuts the sunset when I look up, and plants drape down to touch the dirt.

The front door swings open and a woman in bare feet races past the rosebushes toward us. It is those feet and the reckless way they pound against the earth that tells me this is my aunt Elle before her face does. My stomach gallops and there are bumps all over my arms, and I am more awake than I’ve been since.

I thought Roxy might do a lot of things when she saw her twin sister. Like she might get super quiet or chain-smoke, or maybe even get biting like she can when she’s feeling wrong about something. The last thing I would have ever imagined was them running toward each other and colliding in the driveway, Roxy wrapping her legs around Elle’s waist, and them twirling like that. 

This seems like something I shouldn’t be seeing, some- thing wounded and private that fills up my throat. I flip my- self around in my seat and start picking through the things we brought and chide myself yet again for the miserable packing job I did. Since I was basically out of my mind trying to get out of the house, I took a whole package of toothbrushes, an armful of books, my River Phoenix poster, plus I emptied out my underwear drawer, but totally forgot to pack any shoes, so all I have are some flip-flops I bought at the truck stop outside of Las Cruces after that man came to the window, slurring, You got nice legs. Tap, tap tap. You got such nice legs.

My flip-flops are covered in Cheeto dust from a bag that got upended. I slip them on anyway, watching Roxy take her sunglasses off and prop them on her head.

“Son of a bitch!” my aunt says, her voice tinny as she catches sight of Roxy’s eye. “Oh my God, that’s really bad, Rox. You made it sound like nothing. That’s not nothing.”

“Ellie,” Roxy says, trying to put laughter in her voice. “I’m here now. We’re here now.”

There’s a pause.

“You look the same,” Elle says. “Except the hair. You went full Marilyn Monroe.”

“What about you?” Roxy says, fussing at her platinum waves with her palm. “You go full granola warrior? When’s the last time you ate a burger?”

“You know I don’t do that. It’s no good for us. Definitely no good for the poor cows.”

“It’s fine for me.” Roxy lifts Elle’s arm and puckers her nose. “What’s going on with your armpits? May not eat meat but you got animals under there, looks like.”

“Shaving is subjugation.”

“Shaving is a mercy for all mankind.” 

They erupt into laughter and hug each other again.

“Well, where is she, my little baby niece?” Elle swings the car door open. “Oh, Mayhem.” She scoops me out with two strong arms. Right then I realize just how truly tired I am. She seems to know, squeezes extra hard for a second before letting me go. She smells like the sandalwood soap Roxy buys sometimes. “My baby girl,” Elle says, “you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to see you. How much I’ve missed you.”

Roxy circles her ear with a finger where Elle can’t see her.

Crazy, she mouths. I almost giggle.

[artificialqueens]

Elastic Heart - Part 7/10 (Branjie) - Mia Ugly

A/N: I told you I was going to post the rest quickly before the show changed it up too much, so here we are. Thanks again to this amazing group, with its brilliant mods and incomparable writers.  And as an aside: I may have some feelings about Dr. Ganache, but she is NOT a villain here.  She is a problematic and protective friend.  No tea. No shade.

Brock drives to Orlando. 

He stops at West Palm Beach, digs his toes into the white sand and then dips them in the ocean.   The beach is crowded with tourists (Brock knows that he’s one of them) and he wishes briefly for a wide brimmed hat. He leaves before he can burn too badly, though he takes a couple selfies at the shoreline.  Give his manager something to work with at least.

He drives slow along the coast.  Around noon he stops at a fresh fruit stand and buys starfruit (for some reason, even though he’s never tasted it, it just seems like the thing to do.) He buys some peaches and a bag of pecans too because the lady at the stand is sweet and nosy and reminds him of his grandmother. Later on, when he finds a pretty place to pull over, he sits on the hood of the rental car and eats the peach, skin and all. It tastes like summer, tastes like being young. Brock took family trips through the Okanagan as a child, can remember the fresh fruit that fell apart in your hands, turned to syrup on your tongue.

In Orlando, he finds a cheap hotel and he naps for a few hours (sleep is precious and rare, a religious icon) before he showers. Dresses in the butchest, most invisible clothing he brought with him (he’s got a lot of options and that’s a bit distressing.) If Jose’s not there, Brock doesn’t really want to be recognized, doesn’t want it to turn into a thing. And if Jose is there, well, he’s seen Brock in a lot worse.

Brock eats the pecans he bought (he needs to google ‘How to eat starfruit’ and decides it’s too much work for the situation) and the other peach.  He finds a bar nearby and drinks one drink (just one, he’s got to stay focused) slowly, and alone. No one looks at him.  No one recognizes him. The worn grey sweatshirt is apparently doing the fucking trick.

He takes an Uber to Vanjie’s club, because he doesn’t want to worry about driving. There’s a poster of her in the window, dressed in some sort of bejeweled body-suit, and it makes Brock smile. Build your brand, girl (the smile feels unfamiliar on his mouth.)

The bar is crowded.  Loud.  There’s a DJ playing and crowds of tanned men in tanktops grinding on the dance floor. It makes Brock feel older than he is, and he slinks through the knots of people to get to the bar, squeeze into the inch of available space and order a vodka soda.

He stirs the ice in his drink, and tries to come up with a plan.  Jose’s here. He’s here, or he will be here, and Brock can see him. Hear his voice. Just for tonight, and then he’ll leave it all behind him like exhaust fumes.

The drink disappears too quickly, and Brock orders another. He keeps his head down, tries to be inconspicuous. He must give off some kind of heartbroken vibe because no one has the time or energy for him tonight.

He’s glancing around anxiously - wondering when the show will start and whether Jose will make an appearance before then - when someone clears their throat loudly. Leaning up against the bar, only a few handsy drunk guys between them, is Silky fucking Ganache.

Great.

“Miss Brooke Lynn Hytes.” Silky’s in full face, sickening hair, and a purple-sequined mermaid gown. She comes toward Brock, pushing the people between them out of the way as if they were dandelion fluff. “Now what might you be doin’ here?”

Brock should be surprised to see her, but he isn’t. Silky and Jose seem connected at the hip lately, and that’s good. He’s glad Jose has someone he loves close by, someone so clearly protective of him. 

Brock air-kisses Silky on each cheek, unenthusiastically.

“Just in the neighbourhood.”

“What neighbourhood is that? Last I heard you were up in Canada, couldn’t cross the border.”

Brock rolls his eyes. “I had a show yesterday.  Thought I’d come say hi.”

“Ain’t you sweet. And lookin’ so fine too.” She gives his sweatshirt an understandably critical eye. “The good stuff ain’t started yet, honey, but that’s what it is. Suppose you’re lookin’ for Miss Vanjie.”

Brock doesn’t flinch.  He doesn’t.

“Don’t know if she’ll want to see your ass,” Silky continues. “She still tryin’ to get her head right after everything.”

“Yeah. Things got messed up.” Brock stirs at the ice in his drink, wanting to keep his hands busy.  “I messed them up.”

“You don’t got to tell me that.” The expression on her face leaves Brock with no question as to what Silky thinks of him, and that’s fine.  Or  - understandable anyway.

 “Is she backstage?”

“Nah, baby, she left already. Canceled her appearance, went off with some fine piece of ass. She probably off sucking his dick in a car somewhere.”

Brock almost drops his drink.  A part of him wishes he had; the sound of breaking glass could’ve drowned out all the other things that are breaking.

But then he hears a laugh across the crowded bar, a laugh that he would recognize anywhere - ninety years old and deaf and blind, he would still know Vanjie’s laugh by the way it raised goosebumps on his skin.

“Or did she?” Silky frowns. “Oops, my bad.”

Brock looks in the direction of the laugh, a group of people that have just emerged from the green room. For a moment he can’t see anyone clearly - and then Vanjie’s blonde bombshell wig catches the lights, and he can see her face. Clearly, for the first time in months. She’s smiling and has some kind of silvery lipstick on, and to cross the floor to get to her would probably take him thirty seconds.

But.

But she’s leaning into someone, a muscular dark-haired guy with tattoos winding up his arms. She’s smiling as she looks at him, as she moves closer, as her lips find the corner of his mouth. 

(He knew, of course. Yvie told him. He’d heard rumours online. He thought that forewarning would take some of the bite out of seeing it in person, but he was wrong. There are teeth at his throat, all of them filed into points.)

“You think she wants any of your sad-boy bullshit right now?” Silky snorts. “I dunno. Seems to be having herself a good time.”

Brock holds his breath. Plays out all the ways this could go. Vanjie hasn’t seen him yet, and her smile is wide and white-toothed. If he crosses the floor right now, he knows that smile will drop, that her eyes will go hard, that her back will stiffen.  He could go over there, cross the floor and have her within hands reach. He could touch her shoulder (Brock’s heart might live behind walls, but his body does not) and completely ruin her night.

But she looks beautiful. She looks happy.

“She ain’t even spotted your ass yet.  You ain’t got to cause no drama.” Silky looks between Brock and Vanjie, eyes narrowed. “Tell you what, why don’t you run along, Miss Brooke Lynn? She don’t even got to know you were here.”

Brock gives Silky a flat look.  The two of them aren’t friends, won’t ever be friends, but they have one thing desperately in common.  That one thing cuts through all the bullshit, right through to the bone.  

“How’s she doing?” Brock asks, and Silky shrugs.

“She fine as hell, what you want me to say? She getting on with it.  She got her girls looking out for her.”

“How are you doing?”

Silky laughs. “Just waitin’ around to collect my prize money.  Baby, you should see me in a crown.”

Silky might be convinced of her certain victory, but she’s as in the dark as everyone else. Brock didn’t know until he got to Drag Race that production films multiple endings for the series, that the top queens don’t find out who wins until the last episode airs. 

Of course, it could never be said that Silky lacks in confidence.

“Will you - tell her I was here? That I didn’t want to interrupt her.”

“Nah, bitch. You in her head too much already, and I ain’t your messenger.”

Across the bar, Vanjie laughs - loud and gravelly and gorgeous. Brock wishes he could capture that laugh like a jar full of fireflies and keep it. Visit it whenever he got tired, whenever he forgot that there were good things in the world, and once he had been part of one.

There’s maybe forty feet between Brock and Vanjie.  It feels like an ocean (but she looks happy. What more can he ask for?)

“Take care of yourself,” Brock says to Silky. “See you on tour.”

“How will I ever survive the wait?” Silky waves him away. “Yeah, go on home, Brooke. We good here.”

And it’s only because Brock can’t bear to see the smile fall from Vanjie’s face. It’s only because he didn’t let her know he was coming, and doesn’t want to surprise her and throw off her act. It’s only because she’s running her hands over another man’s shoulders with those dark, smoky eyes she gets sometimes - that’s the only reason Brock leaves. 

He isn’t afraid. 

He calls himself the worst sorts of names as he gets a ride back to his hotel. Then he raids the minibar and tells himself it’s all for the best.  

He got to see her. She looked beautiful (but she always looks beautiful) and happy. That’s all he can ask for.

Nina has texted him twice since that morning.

“Brock?”

And then: “BROCK???”

Brock wants to drink some more vodka and then blissfully pass out. 

Instead. 

He phones a friend.

* * *

So.  

There’s a music video challenge, and Brooke Lynn bombs it.  It’s not as bad as Snatch Game, but she’s nowhere close to the talent of A’Keria and Silky, and Yvie’s not as strong but she’s better than Brooke. Brooke’s gotten in her head again, hearing that voice on repeat telling her she’s not funny, she’s awkward, she’s letting people down (this is for the Top Five WHAT ARE YOU EVEN DOING -)

So.  She’s prepared to lip sync. It’s not like the last time, the time against Yvie.  Today she knows with one hundred percent certainty that it’s coming.

And she knows she’s going to be up against Vanjie. The great moment of television that Yvie predicted is finally here.  Give us all a fucking Emmy.

Vanjie is struggling with even the mini-challenges lately, and Brooke is trying to convince herself that it’s not her fault. They haven’t spoken privately since that night in Vanjie’s room (and that was a fucking mistake but Brooke still is having trouble regretting it. She wanted her.  She still wants her. And fuck, it wasn’t the right time but Brooke would get on her knees for Vanjie in the middle of the werkroom if the other queen asked.  Which she won’t, but. 

Brooke would do it.)

There’s defeat in Vanjie’s eyes now, like she’s waiting to get called out by the judges, like it’s inevitable that she’ll be the next one sent home. Even though she’s survived two lip syncs already, even though she’s changed up her silhouette so Michelle can’t keep reading her - Vanjie’s not having fun anymore. From the outside looking in at least (and Brooke is certainly on the outside now) it seems like she isn’t.

Did Brooke do that? Or was it just the show? As the production keeps going, Brooke feels her own spark dimming as well.  She wants to celebrate each elimination that she survives, but she’s also really fucking tired and - she’s in it until the end, of course, but she��s glad that the end is in sight.

So.

Top Five.

They leave the runway while the judges deliberate. Vanjie doesn’t say a word, just walks off on her own with her earbuds in. A’Keria gives Brooke an anxious look before she follows her.

Brooke gets a cocktail, drinks it too fast.

She knows tonight’s song by heart, has danced to it before. She waits until A’Keria comes back to the couch, whispers something in Silky’s ear before raising an eyebrow at Brooke.

“You better have a word with your girl,” A’Keria says.  “She ain’t right.”

She’s not my girl, Brooke wants to say, but she also wishes that it were true. She wishes Vanjie was hers, that they’d met somewhere normal and boring and didn’t have all this extra shit in between them.  It would have been different then. Brooke would have been different, not so in her head, not so reserved. They would have been able to touch and fuck and spend time alone like normal people.  

They might have made it.  Could have made it.

Brooke resists the urge to build a pillow fort when all she wants to do is bury herself, so deep she disappears. Instead, she gets off the couch and goes after Vanjie.

The impossible object of Brooke’s affections is sitting at the mirrors, eyes closed and earbuds in. She looks like a scene from a painting, a still from a classic black-and-white movie. Brooke puts a hand on her shoulder to get her attention (and they both pretend they don’t notice her flinch.) 

When Vanessa opens her eyes, they’ve got that dark, glassy look that Brooke recognizes. It’s the same look she had when Yvie suddenly turned on her in the backstage lounge, all those nights ago. It’s the look she had after the Snatch Game, when Ru told Brooke she was up for elimination. It’s pain and surprise, swirled together like ink.

“You doing okay?” Brooke asks.

Vanessa takes out one of her earbuds and nods, tightly. She doesn’t look at Brooke.

“And you’re ready?”

The other queen takes a deep breath before she answers. “I ain’t gonna let you off easy just cuz you’re pretty.”

Brooke laughs, startled, and the corner of Vanjie’s mouth curls.  It’s like they’re okay for a minute, like they’re back on the beach, that sunny afternoon when Brooke first realized that her heart was not her own anymore.  That it had somehow stretched itself into Vanjie’s hands, wound around her fingers.

For a minute, it’s like that. 

“I wish I’d met you earlier,” Brooke says because she has to, because the words are burning through her throat.  “At a club or something. Not here.” 

She won’t cry, she tells herself.  She can’t cry.

“Well.  What you gonna do?” Vanjie still has her eyes fixed on the mirror, fussing with her wig (her hands are shaking). “Gotta go out there and do what you do best, bitch. It’s what you came here for.”

“That was before-“

“Before what? Before you met me? Don’t expect me to believe that Miss Brooke Lynn.” Vanjie finally looks at her, a hint of her old self bleeding through the armour she’s put on. “You’re here for a crown. So go and get it.” She gives Brooke a stare that’s part challenge, part longing, and all heartache. “If you think you can.”

Brooke swallows around the tightness in her throat.  Then she nods (when what she really wants to do is take Vanjie’s hand and pull her out of her chair, kick down the door and get out of this studio. Fight off the P.A.s, find a cab, go to LAX, run the fuck away. Together. Leave this all behind and start over.)

“Kill it,” she says instead. “Show ‘em why they brought you back.” 

“You know I fucking will.” Vanjie puts her earbud back in, goes back to her own world. 

Brooke doesn’t dare touch her again, and walks away to a separate corner of the lounge. She realizes suddenly that the other girls are quiet.  Even Silky. There’s none of the shouting and laughing that usually fills the air backstage. When they talk, it’s almost in whispers. It feels more like a funeral than a reality show. 

Brooke puts her earbuds in, turns up the volume. She can taste her heart thumping in her throat. She told herself she wouldn’t get distracted. This thing with Vanjie wouldn’t become a problem.

And now the moment has come.  And it’s so much more than just a problem. 

In her ear Sia sings: “And another one bites the dust. Oh why can I not conquer love?”

Brooke loves this fucking song. She doesn’t need to practice; she knows exactly what she’s going to do.

Go out there on that stage and slay.  

Go out there and break her own heart.

(If she had met Vanjie in a club, she would have heard her before she saw her. 

She would have clocked that laugh immediately and thought up a million reasons to go talk to her. If she had met her at a club, Brooke would have bought her a drink and asked if she wanted to get out of there ten minutes later. She would have taken her to the beach, to a bookstore, to the park, to a thrift shop.  She would have wanted to hear her voice and ask her questions - how did you start doing drag? What’s your favourite song? What were your grandparents like? Who was the first person that broke your heart?

What keeps you up at night? Who are you when your paint is off and the lights go down and you’re alone at home and tired? Who do you think about? What were your pets named?  How do you feel about cats?

If she had met Vanjie in a club, they would have talked about Monique Heart in AllStars, and the  miracle of seeing Latrice live, and how Drag Race could be problematic AF but make a queen’s career. Change their life. How they’d give anything to get on it.

If she had met Vanjie anywhere else, Brooke would have still wanted her.)

It hits her like a punch, driving the wind from her lungs.  Vanessa had told her to figure out what she wanted. And at last - Brooke has. 

Just when everything’s about to fall apart, Brooke has.

“I’ve got thick skin and an elastic heart

but your blade it might be too sharp.”

“Five minutes,” a P.A. calls, and the other queens start to get their heels back on, finish the last sips of their cocktails.  

Yvie pats her on the shoulder as she walks by. “It’s you and me in the Top Two, girl. Deal with it.” 

Even Yvie’s encouragement comes off as a bit threatening, but the consistency is enough to make Brooke smile. 

This is it. 

She intercepts Vanessa before she goes back onstage. They stand inches apart, breathing in each other’s air. They do not touch.

(“Hi Papi.”)

(“Shoulda known you’d be a Pisces.”)

(“Y’had something on your face, Hytes.”)

(“I like the way you are.”)

“Hello, hello, hello Miss Brooke Lynn,” Vanessa says finally and Brooke swallows a laugh that might be a sob.

“Miss Vaaaanjie.”

“I’ma hold you to that Oliver Garden dinner,” Vanessa smiles wide but her eyes are shining. “You  made a promise, ho, you ain’t done with me.”

Brooke shakes her head ‘no’ (will she ever be done with Vanessa? She can’t imagine a world where that would be possible, where she could look at Vanjie and not fall utterly to pieces.)

Brooke holds out her hand. Vanjie looks at it a bit dubiously before she takes it. Their fingers lace as if they never were apart.

They’re still holding hands when they go back to the mainstage.

After it’s announced that they’re both up for elimination, Ross Matthews starts covertly wiping away tears. It’ll make for a great episode, Brooke thinks, and wishes that the voice in her head didn’t sound so bitter.

“Brooke Lynn Hytes.  Vanessa Vanjie Mateo.  The time has come for you to lip-synch for. Your. Life.”  

Brooke can feel Vanessa’s pulse fluttering like a bird against her fingertips. She’s terrified, Brooke realizes. 

Brooke is too.

(“You be careful girl.” A’Keria’s voice rings from somewhere in the background of her memories.

“You know what you’re doing?” Yvie is scowling at her on the beach, and Brooke swallows down  every instinct she has that’s screaming “NO.”)

“Good luck.  And don’t fuck it up.”

Brooke lets Vanjie’s hand slide from her grasp.  It feels like saying goodbye. 

And the music plays.

[lovingastory]

Slayers Favorite Scenes (countdown to Slayers Novel 17): Lina meets Gourry

So there I was, tearing through the woods at top speed, a gang of murderous bandits hot on my tail.

Why were they chasing me, you ask? Well, it’s a long, boring story, and besides, where I come from, it’s not all that odd to find yourself being chased through the woods at top speed by a gang of murderous bandits. Especially if you’re me.

If you really want to know why I can tell you, but you don’t need to know why. Actually, it’s probably safer if you don’t know. Look, it might ruin the story for you, okay? And you wouldn’t want to ruin the story, would you? Of course, you wouldn’t.

So anyway, where were we before I was so rudely interrupted? Ah, yes: I was tearing through the woods at top speed, a gang of murderous bandits hot on my tail.

Okay, I might have stolen something from the bandits. There. Are you happy now? It’s possible that I sneaked into their little bandit camp and helped myself to the teensiest, tiniest bit of treasure, and it’s conceivable that they were a tad peeved about that. And I supposed that might have had something to do with why they were chasing me. Maybe.

It was barely a speck of pixie dust, I swear. And for that, they wanted to wring my neck! Sheesh. How stingy can you be? Not that I’ve ever heard of generous bandits, mind you. But still.

Can we move on, now?

There I was, tearing through the woods at top speed, a gang of murderous bandits hot on my tail. I had a good lead on them, but they were sprinting on masculine and murderous feet and I was – er – traipsing on my ever-so-dainty lotus blossoms – What? My feet are dainty! – so I knew I wouldn’t have the advantage for long.

Not being big on precautionary measures, I screeched to a halt and pecked out from beneath my hood to evaluate my options. The trees on either side of the road were too dense for me to cut through. Even at midday, I wouldn’t be able to see two feet in front of me.

The bandits were closing in, their bloodlust hanging thick in the air. Even the birds had sensed the danger and stopped singing – I was trapped!

Now, when I say road, bear in mind that the road we were running on was more like a path. It was as though some guy had hacked his way through the woods with a machete, figuring that hicking single file was a fine method of travel. Weeds grew high on either side, and starting a scuffle in them was not exactly appealing.

Knowing the terrain better than I did, the enemy had been able to circle around and surround me. I wasn’t too sure of the situation, so I decided it was best to mind my manners for the time being. Still, I had to say something to flush them out.

“I know you’re there,” I shouted, biting my tongue to squelch the sarcasm.

“Well, hello there, toots.”

Who’s it gonna be this time? I wondered. A talking skeleton, maybe? A zombie? Nope. Who’da thunk your average eyepatch-wearing bald brute would have the nerve to call me “toots”? Go figure.

Maybe he’d bolstered his confidence with his oh-so-scary outlaw outfit? Aware that any good look starts off with decent skincare, baldy had gone for a bronzy glow, by massaging his skin with what, judging by the smell, could only have been fetid pork fat. He sported a shirtless ensemble, accessorized with a scimitar, achieving a style that screamed, “I AM A FILTHY, DISGUSTING THUG!” And yet, despite his brute fashion, it seemed he was bent on talking me to death.

“What ya did to us back there wasn’t nice.” he growled.

No, duh, genius.

“And now, ya can relax,” he said, and slid into a smile so greasy that his cheeks actually made squishing sounds. “I don’t wanna fight ya, toots. Ya look like a biter, ya do, and I don’t fancy tussling with a gal who’d leave me marked. Now, ya got yerself an impressive set of balls, I gotta say. Downright admirable. And yer technique’s real professional-like – busting in and tossing magic around left and right, setting the place aflame, cooking the boss man to a crisp, and then, once the ruckus was well under way, sneaking into the vault and making off with our loot. Speaking strictly as a professional, I gotta say I was impressed.”

Um, earlier I forgot to mention the parts about the fire and the leader-killing, didn’t I? Sorry about that. I guess that had something to do with why they were chasing me, too. Oh well. No rest for the wicked, I always say.

“Ya got us good. At first we figured we’d chase ya down and exact our revenge, in a fashion befitting our scurrilous reputation, but somewhere along the road I got to thinking maybe there’s a better way, hmmm…? Maybe the thing is to have ya join up with us, huh? Whaddaya say, toots?”

Join up with you? I feel like I need to take a shower just for talking to you, cretin.

“Ya’ll have to return the booty, of course, but ya agree to join up with us and we’ll consider yer killin’ the boss to be water under the bridge.”

I acted like I was thinking it over.

“It ain’t a bad deal I’m offering ya,” he continued. “It’s what ya might call nonviolent conflict resolution, makin’ the best out of a bad situation. Give and take. We make use of your talents, and ya got yerself a gang. Ya give us back our stolen treasure, and we let ya keep breathing. It ain’t such a bad deal, see? Whaddaya say?” he asked, and his smile opened up like a wound.

I see how it is, I thought. Until I knocked off their leader, baldy here had been the number two guy. So really, I did him a favor. He didn’t want revenge: he just wanted the treasure back and the addition of my special skills to his arsenal. He was probably sweet on me, too. Who could blame him? Unfortunately for him, I have a strict no-return policy where treasure is concerned, and I’m just not depraved enough to hook up with a band of thieves.

Could you imagine waking up every morning to a guy like that asking you, “What’s up, toots?” No, thank you. Ladies, where are the princes on white horses the storybooks promised us, huh? Couldn’t there be just one among this seas of ill-mannered thugs?

Yeah, I didn’t think so. Oh, well. A girl can dream.

“Better answer fast, toots. Never know what kind of scum’s roaming around this neck of the woods. Ain’t no place to be a-napping.”

That guy sure was a talker. Bear in mind, I hadn’t said a word since he’d started yammering. I stood there silently while he went on and on and on. And on, some more. What is it with men loving to hear the sound of their own voice?

Right about the time he started winding down with “So, toots, how about it?” I sensed another presence entering our sphere. Hmmm…

“Not a chance.” I growled in as low a voice as I could manage without straining, and I dug my heels in the ground to emphasize my point.

“Why, ya little…” he snarled and he stopped, his mouth hanging open as his wee bandit brain struggled to simultaneosly process anger and disappointment. Multitasking evidently wasn’t his strong point, and the pressure caused him to turn bright red. Actual steam shot out of his ears, I think.

“Ya little…” he tried again.

Finally, he found the words he was searching for: “Ya little arrogant bitch.”

Oh, bravo. I can see why it took you so long to come up with that one.

“I made ya a generous offer and ya threw it back in my face! For that, we’re gonna feed ya yer liver! Have at ‘er, boys!”

And with that, ten men stepped out of the forest and surrounded me. Ten.

“Ten guys? That’s it?” It just slipped out. I didn’t want to be rude, but ten? C’mon. It was insulting. Oh sure, the ten guys puffed up their chests and made a show of how tough they were, which I suppose I appreciated, but really. Ten guys? It was as if they had no faith in me. Sad.

“Oh now, this aint’ all of us, toots. Our mates in the woods are aiming their razor-tipped arrows at ya right now. When I say the word – THWANNG! Yer a pincushion. Now, I’m gonna giva ya one more chance to save yerself.”

Amateurs! Those were obvious lies. As both a swordswoman and a sorceress, I have impeccable instincts for when I’m being aimed at. If I were in anyone else’s crosshairs, I’d have known it. Those peabrains were way beneath my talents, and I was starting to get bored, when…

“Shall I wait for you to call some friends, so we can have a fair fight?”

The presence I’d sensed earlier! We all turned to see where that zinger had come from. A lone wandering mercenary materialized from among the trees, the rays of morning light reflecting off his drawn sword.

Somebody cue the chorus of angels, would you?

That man was an awe-inspiring vision of wondrous wonderfulness. He was tall, he was blond, and did I say tall already? His breastplate had been forged from the scales of a black iron serpent and judging by his sword, he made a decent living as an archetypical light fighter: fast and skilled. I told you he was tall, right? Did I mention he was a hottie?

“Piece of advice, fellas: if you all take off at a dead sprint now, a few of you might actually make it back to the rock you’ve crawled from under before I catch up and exterminate you like the vermins you are. One or two might even escape with your lives. That is, if you start right now.”

Not a bad threat, I thought.

The chatty bald beast sputtered and spewed and spat and at last shouted back, “Just who the hell are ya to be creeping out from the woods and interrupting our delicate negotiations with yer ugly threats and insults, huh?”

“I don’t care to sully my name by giving it to you,” the blond replied.

Ouch. Okay, well, that was a little embarassing. Frankly, the whole thing just got more clichéd and harder to stomach from there. Not that I had any choice, I mean, where was I going to go? I just stood there, probably looking like I’d swallowed a bug, which is pretty much how I felt.

I shouldn’t have complained, right? I mean, doesn’t every girl want a handsome rescuer to sweep in when she’s in a pinch? So what if she could’ve handled the whole thing on her own and the handsome rescuer in question didn’t have the verbal acuity she was hoping for? A gal can’t affor to be too picky these days, can she? I know, I know, but play along, will ya?

“Ya little…”

Oh no. You think he’ll do any better this time?

“Ya impertinent cad!”

Guess not.

“We’re gonna feed ya both yer livers now! Have at ‘em boys!”

At last, the sword fight began.

I considered helping the guy out, but I didn’t want to embarrass him. Besides, the proper role of a heroine is to run around shrieking in an excruciatingly high pitched voice, isn’t it? I mean, otherwise, what’s the point?

I’d never done the running-around-and-shrieking thing before, and I gotta say, should you get the opportunity, I highly recommend it. It’s a lot more fun than you’d expect.

Anyway, there I was, shrieking like my life depended on it and pretending I had no idea what was going on around me. Sadly, the whole thing wrapped up quickly. The blond prevailed, of course.

Breathless and glowing with victory, he made his way over a minefield of bandit bodies and swept up to me. “Are you all right, milady?” he asked, his eyes seeking out my own. He took his first good long look at me, drinking in my loveliness, and… he was speechless.

Now, I don’t want to brag, but I am not exaclty lacking in the looks department. Big, round eyes, a peaches-and-cream complexion; all perched atop a tight little body in petite proportions. Poor thing, he didn’t stand a chance.

He sighed – with admiration and longing, I was sure. When at last able to speak, he did so quietly, as though mumbling a prayer. It was barely as audible as a whisper, and had I not been a gifted sorceress with the enhanced hearing that accompanies that role, I probably wouldn’t have heard him at all. O lucky me!

“Great. She’s just a kid.”

Just a kid? Ok, that stung a little.

Oh, but wait – there’s more!

“This is what I get for not looking more carefully before I get into these things. I mean, I like kids, I want to be a standup guy, but c’mon! Ten guys, I fought! Ten guys! Is it so much to ask that one of these days there’s a babe waiting for me at the other end? Somebody hot, you know? All breathless and grateful… is that too much to hope for? Apparently so. And now I’m stuck looking after Little Miss No-Boobs.”

Gah!

Okay, I suppose I am a little underdeveloped for a girl my age. And I’m… I’m not very tall. All right, I’m short. Is that what you want me to say? I’m short and I’m flat-chested. What’s the big deal, huh? At least I can run fast and my clothes hang right. Boobs are overrated, if you ask me.

Shit! Why do they always get you where you’re sensitive?

I’m sure he didn’t think I could hear his mumbling. A normal person couldn’t have, but for better or worse, my ears are as sensitive as an elf’s. For worse this time, I’d say. Ouch.

Regardless, he had helped me out of a bit of a pinch, so I had an obligation to thank him.

“Th-thank you very much,” I stuttered, and I smiled as broadly as I could.

“No need to thank me at all.” He managed something of a smile in return. “Are you hurt, little miss?”

Little miss? God, help me…

“You know, it’s not safe for a little girl to be wandering around in an area like this on her own. Were you traveling with your father or someone? Are you separated? Lost?

Grr… “No, no… I’m – uh – by myself…”

I guessed maybe all that blond hair was making it hard for him to see. I mean, if it had been me, I’d like to think I’d have figured out pretty quickly that the lovely creature before me was no helpless little kid.

“Well, I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you. How about if I escort you home, sweetie?”

Oh, now… wait just a damn minute…!

“Where do your mommy and daddy live?”

Grrrr! “Uh, I’m by myself. I don’t live anywhere, exactly… I was just heading to Atlas City…”

“I see, well, there’s no need for you to explain. I understand completely. You’re in a pretty rough spot, aren’t you?”

“Huh?”

“I completely understand. We all have our circumstances.” he said in a maddeningly condescending tone.

“No, um, I don’t think you do understand.”

“Oh, I understand more than you think I understand.”

What?! I don’t even think I understand what it is you think that I think that you don’t understand!

In retrospect, I think he thought he’d rescued a helpless little girl, who’d been forced to live on her own as a result of some sort of tragedy. At the time, I suspected he was going to keep spewing the same reassurances until he died of suffocation or I died of embarassment. One of us had to put an end to it.

“No, really, I’m fine. I appreciate your kindness, but I’m not a victim. I’m an adventuress, off to see the world.” I was telling him the truth – which, incidentally, was no small feat for me!

“Really, I don’t mean to pry, miss. You don’t have to make any excuses for my benefit.”

Okay, now, this just sucks. For once in my life, I’m not making excuses!

I didn’t know what else to say.

“All right, then, miss. How about if I stick with you and see that you reach Atlas City safely?”

Bad idea! Bad idea! Bad – idea!

“Oh, mister, n-no— no – no need for you to go so far out of your way! I-I couldn’t.”

I wasn’t’ kidding, either. Atlas City was TEN DAYS AWAY. I couldn’t imagine spending twenty-four hours a day side by side with Mr. Perceptiveness for TEN DAYS without succumbing to the temptation to commit the premeditated murder of a blond.

“It’s all right.” he said. “I think you need a friend.”

He was obviously committed to the idea.

[kpopisthereasonihavenolife]

Off Limits

Monsta X

Im Changkyun/Reader [F]

Genre: High School AU, Rebellious, Drabble

Warnings?: Smoking, Disregard for rules, Swearing, Inappropriate language

Words: 1.5k

“Hurry your bitch ass up, I’m not getting any younger out here while your dick is stuck in some Spencer’s purchased, unsanitized fleshlight.”

“I’ve never been more offended or proud of you for your onslaught of insults lately,” Changkyun said back to your obviously fake rage over the phone.  “Besides, if anyone’s bought anything from Spencer’s, we both know it's you.  How else can we explain that kinky set up in your closet, hmm?”  He chided as you promptly hung up on him without a word. 

Slotting his phone back into his ripped jean pocket, he stuck his AirPods in his ears, blasting whatever edgy band he was into these days.  He found himself listening more to edgy American labels more than most these days, his time in America really laying into his DNA, despite not being born there. That is one more thing you never let him live down, his Western like behavior. 

You’ve claimed to be ‘scarred for life’ when you walked in on him in the middle of a keyboard smashing, screeching deathmatch in Overwatch while he was stark-ass naked at 3 AM. In your house mind you. Seeing his fake American Tit-Tat was one thing in life you never planned on seeing.  

You had to buy a whole ass new computer chair after that night, too traumatized with the imprint of his naked arse in your sweet leather seat to ever sit in it again.  You had half a mind to call a priest and have it excised, but you couldn’t afford a whole Holy Man in garbs, so new chair it was. Thankfully, as compensation, Changkyun pitched in on half the bill for it. 

He walked a bit further down the ever darkening roadside as he soon watched light post after light post flicker on.  Some with working lights, some with new LED lights that not only allow you to see below you but apparently 30 feet in every other direct resulting in direct blindless for 5 minutes if stared directly into. 

He soon rounded a corner as he saw your silhouette not too far off.  He watched your arm raise to your mouth, stay for a moment only to drop and a puff of smoke push past your lips.  It looked like you were wearing a jean jacket he got for you for no other reason than you looked good in it.  Jeans that nicely rounded your ass, even from his distance, and he could guess what shirt you were wearing.  Probably something about aliens if he had to guess. 

He reached for his phone, just before stopping and plucking one AirPod from his ear to hear his footsteps.  He had to be quiet; yes, very very quiet.  He moved along a barely holding together brick wall and slid along it, looking like a blond fool at dusk where he was still pretty much 90% visible.  

Taking step by step in his torn up, ankle black Harley Davidson biker boots, he held his partially painted finger in front of him.  Tiptoeing like some cartoon character, he stood nearly directly behind you now.  He waited, watched you take a breath of your nearly finished cigarette and once your hand was dropped to your side, he jumped into action.  

“HOWDY!”  He screeched into your ear as you whirled.  You swung your arm behind you, your stupid best friend ducking down, safely out of the way while your unfinished, but small cigarette fell to the ground. He looked up at you, seeing your shirt.  Black with white writing saying “I bEliEvE” in a pretty awful font.  Not at all pleasing to the eyes.  “Alien shirt, I knew it.”  You were quick to kick out your converse covered foot and push his squatted ass into the ground. 

He teetered over as you stood over him with your arms cross.  Hair hanging in tangling in front of your chest as you looked down at him. To any stranger, you would seem to be bullying the blond high schooler, but you two were fairly well known in your small town.  He pushed himself up on his elbows.  

“I always knew you were the ringleader of every relationship you’ve been in.  PUshing people down, oof.”  You rolled your eyes as you stepped over him. Not quite disregarding his chide. 

“This is why you can’t get a girlfriend.  You suck,” you groaned back as you stepped on your still smoking cig with the toe of your shoe. He hopped up like he wasn’t on the ground to begin with. 

You and Changkyun have known each other since middle school when you first showed up in his rinky-dink little town. Officially attached at the hip when you flashed your chest to some stuck up jock and got picture proof to frame him for sexual harassment, all because he kept making jabs about your ass. 

If one were to drive through your town and blink, you’d be in and out in a flash.  Population a whopping 500.  Everyone knew everyone, stories of “I taught so-so’s parent in school too” coming from every old and rotting teacher on school property.  

Not that either of you heard it much.  Neither of you really care much for the school scene.  Not fitting in with the small school system.  You’d think such a small town would go to a bigger town for schooling via bus, but no.  School houses were built, and by houses I mean houses.  You swore they held lectures in superstores, they were that small.  

It’s not like school was important.  Even in a small town, no one cared about grades or success.  It was all about who was wearing what.  The TV programs on the night before. Jocks trying to win over hearts of adolescent girls thirsting for whatever they could get for a night and $20. Or who was fucking who in the public bathroom at lunchtime. 

So, you both stayed in your world.  A world of bad choices, smoking, drinking having the time of your lives regardless of the opinions around you.  Some adults couldn’t wait for you both to just up and vacate town.  Maybe then they’d stop hearing about what you both did the night before.  

One time it was graffiti on the side of the doctors building.  Another it was tying every cart in the supermarket together with zip-ties.  One night you both decided to paint on your face and start a bond fire in a vacant abandoned lot and acted like fools.  Life was never dull with the two of you, that's why it was thrilling. 

“What’s the plan tonight then?” 

“Fuck if I know.  You’ve killed my last cigarette and I can’t afford another pack right now.”  You whined as he plucked a fresh pack from his back pocket.  

“Ah, my mistake.  Madam Piss-Poss needs a cigarette like an alcoholic need beer.  Just where have my manners gone to.” Packing the box in his palm you rolled your eyes.  

“you’re just as bad as I am.  Shut your mouth before you choke on my fist.”

“I’m not into  your kinky stuff, Y/n.” 

“You’re pushing it.”

“Pushing what?  Your buttons?  I suspect you only have 2, and they’re named as such:” He poked at your breasts. “Nip and Nap.”  

“You are such a pig!”  You whack at his head.  He swirls around completely unbothered as you fix your shirt he had bunched up. He tore off the plastic around his pack of cigs as he pulled one to place between his lips and offered you one more. 

“Pig that you can’t stand to be without.  How precious, you might be pulling at my heartstrings.” 

Although you gratefully accept the toxic stick of tobacco, you still get in one last jab.  “Don’t imply I make you horny,” you finished.  He chuckled as he plucked his lighter from the side of his boot.  You never understood why he kept it there, it always smelt of feet. He offered you the light, but you shook your head.  “I don’t want your smelly foot lighter.” 

Changkyun rolled his eyes.  “Then let me light it, baby.”  He stepped closer to you as you tipped your cigarette between your lips up with your tongue.  He always does this.  He grabbed the back of your neck with one hand as he steadied his light with the other between his black-tipped fingers. Pushing the fiery ash against the tip of your cigarette, it took a moment but soon you were huffing in the toxic fumes, same as he. 

It was stupidly intimate, but it was your thing. It was the thing between you two.

You refused to label it, as did he.  There were no titles, no distinguished relationship status: they were off limits.  You two were the pair who did everything together.  You’d hold hands, you’d hold each other, you’d ugly sob and get drunk together in an abandoned building.  You’d even get lost in lust from time to time; greed and lust were no exception to human nature. 

You both even sat at each other’s side and hyped one another up when you both got your first tattoo’s and piercings that continued to grow in number as the years ticked by.

Yet, you were also the pair who would call each other ‘pussy’ just because someone didn’t make a crumbled up burger wrapper into the nearest trash can.  Insults were compliments, and if a compliment was truly shared, then your bond grew tenfold.  There were no hurt feelings, no titles, no words to describe you both. 

You were just Y/n and Changkyun, just two humans living their lives. The words ‘I love you’ were strictly off limits.

[lostinsantacarla]

Part two (I can’t take complete credit for this. I threw an idea at my writing partner and she ran with it, creating this part of the chapter that’s simply amazing and completely Paul)

1981

He woke up later than usual. His lady friend, one of his many friends with benefits, or in last night's case, "Make me your bitch, Paul!" had long since left for work, but not before providing him with money on the end table so he could buy some beer and cigarettes. However, he decided that using the money to score some high-quality weed from his favorite dealer sounded better.

Sure, the guy was a hunchback, walked with a lead foot, had one bug-eye, and smelled like garbage, but out of all the shady people Paul had bought pot from over the years, this guy had never steered him wrong. It was too bad the old fart was hardly around. For someone who hobbled about as he did, he was fast with his transactions and as soon as the exchange was finished, he was off like a thief in the night. Lucky for Paul, word on the street was that the weirdo was out and about tonight.

Sweet Mary Jane, here I come! His inner monologue announced as he threw on a pair of denim pants, that is, after he found them behind the bushes outside the apartment complex. He had had to run out buck naked, marathon sprinting, to retrieve them without being spotted. Talk about a wild romp of sex for his pants to get thrown out the window like that.

His look was further completed with a band shirt, seeing as one could never go wrong with Led Zeppelin, and black high tops. Then in the bathroom, in front of the mirror, he spent a good amount of time teasing his hair until it resembled a lion's mane; big, wild, and unkempt.

The girls loved his style and always gave compliments about how he looked like a rock star. His hair and his bigger than life personality had opened many doors of opportunity, which in turn led to free food, booze, and sex. He was exuberant and free spirited. Nothing and nobody could hold him back.

Once he was fixed up, the rock star was out the door with the money and made his way down the block. It was a quiet night and the sun had long since set in the horizon. The streets were lined with rundown apartment buildings and small houses, but visibility was somewhat poor since many of the streetlights had long since burned out, or were flickering their last light as he strolled beneath them. He could hear some of the bulbs buzzing and glanced up to see a couple of moths high above, fluttering around one of the dying lights. Needless to say, this part of the neighborhood wasn't the greatest, but it was an even thirty miles from Santa Carla, where the beaches and amusement park roared with life at all hours of the day and night. That was his destination, though he never complained about where he stayed in the moment, because it was a free roof over his head. It wasn't like his childhood home had been anything remotely close to resembling paradise either, but those were painful memories, pushed deep into the back of his mind. Occasionally they would pop up here and there, rearing their ugly heads, considering he was human after all.

He ventured off the main road and resorted to crossing through some dilapidated backyards, as it was a lot quicker to travel. These homes, while much smaller and closer in connection than the ones he'd passed earlier, were also abandoned with windows boarded up and walls marred with graffiti. He kept both hands in his pockets, one of which had a hold over a switchblade. It served as good protection, considering he was aware of the few guys he'd pissed off by sleeping with their girlfriends and then bragged about it later while high, and or drunk. They'd all wanted to beat the shit out of him, and they weren't shy about threatening out in the open. Fortunately, he was always one step ahead of them and like his favorite dealer, made sure never to stay in the same place for very long. Keeping off the main roads would ensure prying eyes weren't watching him.

Eventually he found himself headed towards the more industrial part of the town in search of the weirdo, where the lighting became scarce and dark alleys closed in on him. It was like he was wandering through a maze of brick walls and wooden fences, with garbage cans and discarded cargo boxes choking the walkways. Not a great place to get jumped, so he kept a steady pace and made sure to keep his eyes open.

As he prepared to go around a corner that led down a narrow channel of a one-way street, a high pitched, fearful sounding, "NO!" made him stop dead in his tracks. Instantly, he flattened against a set of steel bars over a foreign doorway, and peered around the corner with his mouth slightly parted in concern.

Just a few feet away, under the light of an abandoned two story building, he spotted a little blonde girl, probably no older than four years old, bawling her eyes out. Her cheeks were red and stained with tears. A middle-aged man with disheveled gray hair pulled back in a sloppy ponytail and wearing a white lab coat towered over the girl. He looked about ready to devour her like a hungry beast. His face was twisted and strained and he reached out to grab her with gnarled, crooked fingers. He barked at her, telling her that if she didn't stop crying any second, he was going to belt her.

"What the...?" Paul muttered under his breath. "hell is this?"

Suddenly the man had a firm grip over the back of the pink overalls the child wore, and was ready to hoist her off the ground. The kid was jerked back, and she let out a painful scream.

Normally, Paul wouldn't have given two shits about other people's problems. Aside from his drug buddies and faceless gal pals, he wasn't close enough with anyone to where he'd stick his neck out for them in a matter of life or death. The only person he looked out for at that point in time was numero uno. Yet the sight of a small, defenseless child about to be harmed by another adult brought one of those painful memories to the surface, no longer buried deep in his sub-consciousness. It reminded him all too much of his past, and of the many nights he'd been beaten black and blue by his step-dad with no one around to help him. Not even his mother, who knew what was happening, would dare lift a finger. Every time it happened, she looked the other way, afraid to interfere—not because she would get hit, but because she would lose the man's attention and he'd end up leaving her. The only way Paul was able to escape the nightmare was by staying out night after night, and only going home when he absolutely needed to. Before he turned sixteen, they kicked him out permanently after learning he had sold all his mother's precious jewelry, including her wedding ring, for quick cash. He was given the boot and ultimately his freedom.

"Fuck that," Paul hissed through clenched teeth as he sprang into action. No one had been there for him, but that didn't mean he couldn't help another little tike out. He bolted away from his hiding spot, and approached the stranger, using his arm to shove the older guy up against the wall. That in turn allowed him to yank the girl away from the weirdo's grasp, and set her down on her feet. She stumbled backwards and continued crying, but Paul ignored her as he became transfixed with the creep in front of him.

"What were you planning on doing with such a small fry, huh?" he asked, his blue eyes full of rage, yet at the same time he was somewhat... grinning? Yes, he was smiling. He liked frightening this asshole. "You don't look like nobody who would care about her. She sure as hell doesn't seem to like you."

"That is NONE of your business," the man hissed as he pushed Paul's arm away from him. "She will be property of—"

"Wrong answer!" Paul exclaimed as he stepped back, drew his switch blade, and stepped forward once more, shoving the tip dangerously close to the man's throat. "The kid wouldn't be screaming like that if she belonged to you or anybody associated with you. And 'property' you say? That ain't gonna be sitting right with the police now, is it?"

The last thing Paul wanted to do was go to the police. He'd already had more than a few run-ins with them for public intoxication, lewd behavior, and disturbing the peace. Assault and possession of a deadly weapon was not something he wanted to add to his record. Still, he wasn't about to let some asshole get away with hurting a defenseless kid. He wasn't that jaded.

The man's eyes bugged out at the sight of the weapon and he swallowed nervously, buying the bluff. He held up his hands, already breaking out into a cold sweat, and started stammering.

"A-A-All right. All right. Just… let me go. Let me go, please. I don't see why they need… need her so much anyhow. S-She doesn't look like anything special to me. I-I could always find another job at my age! I shouldn't be... be treated like this! No job is worth risking my life for!"

They? Paul raised a brow over his ramblings, but a couple things stood out to him. What kind of job was this creep into where the requirements involved wanting their employees to kidnap children? Was it some kind of secret sweat shop in China? Whatever. He moved back and closed the switch blade before sliding it back in his pocket, his eyes never wavering from the man in front of him. The girl had calmed down and was no longer crying, but squatting on the ground, her body pressed up against the building. She was whimpering and hiccupping with her back facing them. Other than looking terrified, she didn't appear hurt, much to Paul's relief.

"Now," Paul said with an upbeat expression, even though his tone betrayed the look, as it was dark and menacing. He slapped the man roughly across the chest with the back of his hand. "You aren't gonna rat on me to the police, are you? Let's face it, I know I'm a punk, but you don't look all too 'normal' yourself, bud. What's a mad scientist doing going after little girls? You some kinda pervert?"

"I am not!" the man blurted out, completely unnerved at this point. His hands trembled, and he swallowed the lump in his throat. "I don't like that sort of thing at all! And no! Can't get the police involved! I was just doing my job… I..."

In a blind panic, he was finally pushed away from Paul and broke free. Fearful for his life, his footsteps echoed across the alley until he disappeared, and silence once again took over.

Now Paul turned to the kid. He wasn't used to dealing with little ones, but he was still determined to make sure this one wasn't getting hurt by the likes of that jerk, or anyone else who could easily break her jaw. He was by no means a saint, but even he had his own code of ethics and morals.

Scratching at the faint stubble on his cheeks, he slowly approached her and carefully picked her up. She was small and weighed very little, and he couldn't help but think about his baby half-brother, as she was probably around the same age as him.

Ah, hell, stop thinking about any of that, he chided inward. You're on your own, Paulie boy. You've been on your own for a long ass time.

By the time he and the girl emerged out into the open, he saw how dark the skies had grown. He didn't wear a watch, but he noticed a small clock tower located on an island in the middle of an intersection that read the time. Not even two hours had passed since he left his friend's pad. There, in that part of town, the street lights were better maintained (as in, they worked), and not only that, but there were people walking around. Businesses were also open and operating, which meant it was a hell of a lot safer than the alleys.

He was surprised at how well behaved and quiet the girl was after saving her. She didn't even know him, but already showed trust in him as if she could read him. Either that or she was just scared out of her wits. The trust factor became more apparent, however, when she leaned against his chest. She was content, sucking her thumb while her eyelids drooped. The problem for Paul was that he wasn't sure where to go from there, so he sat down on the curb and gently placed her down beside him.

He tipped his chin and stared at his shoes, noticing a hole was starting to form near the toe, but the small girl didn't want to detach herself from his side, and ended up resting her small frame against his arm.

Crap, he'd suddenly become an unofficial babysitter for her.

Long as she isn't wailing like she was, I can deal with this, I think.

He rested his arms across his knees and cracked his knuckles as he stared across the street at nothing while his thoughts rolled around. What did that perv say about her being property? Total sicko. People got their rocks off in the nastiest ways. Just hope I didn't miss my dealer by playing hero...

"Serenity? Oh my god, there she is! Serenity!"

Glancing in the direction of the frantic voice, Paul spotted a desperate looking elderly couple hurrying over to where the two of them sat. Their eyes were not focused on him but what was next to him: the kid. No, not kid, Serenity.

Serenity was her name.

Pffft. As if he would retain that information for much longer after he killed his brain cells with some prime weed. Question was, were they just more weirdos coming after her? Just decked out in clever disguises rather than the mad scientist get up? What was so special about her anyway?

Fortunately, unlike with the first guy, Serenity did respond positively to the sound of the elderly female's voice by calling out, "Grandma...!"

She rubbed her eyes with her tiny fists and yawned.

Paul figured he would be tired too after getting kidnapped and harassed by some douchebag, if he were her age.

Not wanting to startle her any more, he collected her into his arms and got to his feet. By that point, the couple was upon them and the woman's arms were outstretched. With a shrug, he automatically surrendered Serenity over to her.

About damn time, he thought as the grandmother cradled Serenity close to her chest and kissed her face affectionately. Serenity responded by cuddling closer to her relative, but she did offer Paul one last look, as if silently wondering if he'd still be around later.

"Thank you so much," the elderly man said as he stood alongside his wife, looking very tired but relieved. The dude was sweating. He had to have been running around like a chicken with its head cut off looking for his granddaughter. He held out a thin hand for Paul to shake. "We don't know how we can ever repay you! We were about to call the police!"

Paul snorted and shoved both of his hands inside his pockets. "Keep a better eye on short stuff there," he admonished rather rudely. "Lil' missy may not be so lucky next time."

Without waiting for a response, he took off in the opposite direction, determined to get back to his own personal affairs. If he ended up meeting with his dealer, soon enough he'd be so damn high that he wouldn't have any memories of playing the hero in the first place.

Little Serenity was young enough to where she wouldn't remember almost being kidnapped. She'd be back to watching Sesame Street and Mister Rogers.

Sides, it's not like I'll ever see her again…

(If you’d like to check out her back story for Paul, you can find it here.)

[yunsangelic]

captaindboss’ Hottest NHL Players Survey Responses

I’m demonkonecny bc it’s halloween!!! Happy Halloween!!! Anyway I’m finally posting the results of my hottest players per team survey, (it’s closed now so u can’t take it anymore, sorry) which included ur fav ugly hots like jack eichel and connor mcdavid. Y’all had some colorful write-in responses for me, I included my favorites! Anyway, as not to clog dashes I put it under a read more. If you have questions about how I compiled this data or how I organized it, feel free to ask! Also some of y’all didn’t put an answer for like half the teams???? who raised you.

Montreal Canadians

Carey Price (55.02%--126 of 229 votes)

Jonathan Drouin (23.58%--54 of 229 votes)

Shea Weber (13.10%--30 of 229 votes)

Other* (8.30%--19 of 229 votes)

*= Inconclusive results.

Write-ins

“PK Subban...oh wait...Lars Eller... Oh wait...Drouin...oh wait...Alex Galchenyuk...oh wait shit fine Shea Weber”

“Everyone who has escaped”

“their ‘attitude problem’“

Boston Bruins

Brandon Carlo (30.26%--69(lol) of 228 votes)

Patrice Bergeron (Cause y’all would kill me if I didn’t put him) (29.82%--68 of 228 votes)

David Pastrnak (yum i lov carb) (25.88%--59 of 228 votes)

Other* (14.04%--32 of 228 votes)

*= Inconclusive results.

Write-ins

[About Carlo] “He’s  a baby but also like has an ageless vampire quality which appeals to my ovaries, long conditioned by teen vampire novels”

“Brad Marchand's tongue (only the tongue)” [this ain’t it chief]

“I love my alien father tuukka rask” [r u ok]

Bonus, cause I’m weak:

“no one THINKS pasta is hot COME ON i hate us” [it’s okay, he is VERY hot, that’s why I put him lmao]

“Zdeno chara babey” [R U OK]

Bl*ckh*wks

Girl as if (44.80%--99 of 221 votes) 

Jonathan Toews (22.62%--50 of 221 votes)

If you put pk*ne here i’ll come to your house and murder you*^/other (17.65%--39 of 221 votes)

hahahahaHAHAHA (14.93%--33 of 221 votes)

*= tie between Nick Schmaltz and John Hayden.

^= 3 people want me to come to their houses and murder them, unfortunately it’s still illegal to do so, therefore I will not be doing that.

Write-ins

“toews player portrait makes him look like a human condom”

“i live in chicago and am willing to take 1 for the team and take out k*ne” 

“Bitch you funny but also Alex Debrincat”

New York Rangers

Brady Skjei (46.32%--107 of 231 votes)

Henrik Lundqvist duh (31.17%--72 of 231 votes)

Brett Howden is the right answer despite not being on the roster yet^ (11.69% (lol)--27 of 231 votes)

Other* (10.82%--25 of 231 votes)

*= Inconclusive results.

^= funny enough, like 2 days after I made this Brett made the final cut lmao.

Write-ins

“Chris Kreider (have you seen the golf pic???) [LMFAO yeah I have (it’s probably too NSFW if ur in public fyi if u wanna google it)]

“i'm horny for like half the gd rangers roster!!!!” [lol girl I know, y’all actually have a few cuties I was a lil shocked]

“this is a hot team too bad they suck”

Toronto Maple Leafs

Y’all are demons okay Nikita Zaitsev is a fuckin gem idk why I was surprised about this but I was lmao.

Other* (39.37%--87 of 221 votes) [just know that I hate u all :/]

William Nylander (25.79%--57 of 221 votes)

Nazem Kadri (24.89%--55 of 221 votes)

Nikita Zaitsev (9.95%--22 of 221 votes)

*= Freddie Andersen. 

Write-ins

“william nylander isn't a leaf, firstable, and second it's motch murner” [sjdhkdlsjdj everything about this]

“i'm putting rich clune even tho he's on the marlies. SOMETIMES HE COMES UP. he could benchpress ever leaf on the roster.” [ur valid, when u sent this I was like “FUCK they’re right.”]

“None they look like 25 year olds who smoke crack in the parking lot” [this is low-key mean but I still laughed, cause yeah, white dudes. But I’m not condoning drug abuse or jokes about drug abuse, as this person had no intention of doing, I’m sure. Just wanted to put that because I know some people might be concerned.]

Bonus, again, weak:

"Jxhn Txvxrxs” [jhkhfoij why did u censor his name sis??]

“nobody’s attractive on the leafs” [this isn’t true but I’m petty and it’s funny.]

Detroit Red Wings

I was so fucking offended by some of the dylan larkin SLANDER up in these write-ins, y’all can come to my house and fight me thx.

Dylan Larkin (48.23%--109 of 226 votes)

Henrik Zetterberg (im crying) (31.42%--71(CRYING) of 226 votes)

Other* (11.95%--27 of 226 votes)

Andreas Athanasiou (8.41%--19 of 226 votes)

*= 12 votes for “No one/Not Dylan Larkin” (yall r annoying lmfao), 10 votes for Filip Zadina (he’s a CHILD how dare u)

Write-Ins

“Luke glen denting is hot look at his arms and he’s not too old for ME” [girl when I tell u this shit killed me, I mean I SQUAWKED a laugh out and sent it to the fps gc, I was DEAD] 

“I don't know what any of the red wings look like and it's probably better that way” [????????????????]

“ion know anyone on the wings except zadina and he scored a gwg against the bruins yesterday so my answer for this one is none 😤😤” [(this was in reference to a pre-season game) lmao sis yall are okay. it was yalls babies against our roster players, I would have offed myself had the outcome been any different lmao]

Bonus

“Does anyone actually play for the red wings” [no]

“filip "thot" zadina” [don’t....]

Los Angeles Kings

The only right answer is Alec Martinez (41.56%--96 of 231 votes)

Adrian Kempe (38.10%--88 of 231 votes)

Anze Kopitar (12.12%--28 of 231 votes)

Other* (8.23%--19 of 231 votes)

*= Inconclusive results.

Write-ins

“jeff carter would snort a line of coke with gritty” [uhhhhh WHAT]

“uhh wayne gretzky...” [jvfluhddsf sis...]

“I couldn't name anyone on this team if you PAID ME” [fjldfdhfh god I wish that were me, sorry annie u know I joke....]

Philadelphia Flyers

Claude Giroux (44.78%--103 of 230 votes)

Travis Konecny (HAHAHAHAHA that’s my ugly hot gremlin) (24.78%--57 of 230 votes

Other* (22.17%--51 of 230 votes

Wayne Simmonds (8.26%--19 of 230 votes)

*= Nolan Patrick is apparently who y’all think is the 3rd hottest flyer, even tho he Looks Like That rn lmao. fuckin’ lettuce head.

Write-ins

“Gritty's googly eyes are the windows to the soul”

“andrea helfrich” [ur right]

“tk, because country boy i LOVE you 😛”

Bonus

“hey don't make threats abt gritty like that” [I put “if you put gritty i’ll block you”]

“My hellspawn son [Gritty,] is beautiful can’t believe Voracek and G had a son tho” [HDKUHEDKJFHD BITCH]

Pittsburgh Penguins :(

Kris Letang (55.17%--128 of 232 votes)

Other* (19.40%--45 of 232 votes)

Not Sidney Crosby [this is the option for Sidney Crosby] (16.81%--39 of 232 votes)

Tristan Jarry (8.62%--20 of 232 votes

*= different variations of “none” won but only by one vote, the person right behind was Jamie Oleksiak.

Write-ins

“the penguins roster came into my home and killed my entire family, but jamie oleksiak is 6'7" 255 lbs of A Man” [NDKFHSJRFDRBSKRFH valid]

“no penguin has ever been hot. As soon as they put on the jersey the hotness evaporates. Tragic.” [wow look at all that truth right there]

“as a heterosexual i chose letang, and as a flyers fan i choose the penguin mascot” [lmao girl letang is not the answer either]

St. Louis Blues

Colton Parayko (67.11%--151 of 225 votes)

Alex Pietrangelo (17.33%--39 of 225 votes)

Other* (8%--18 of 225 votes)

Ryan O’Reilly (7.56%--17 of 225 votes)

*= Inconclusive results.

Write-ins

“this [’other’] box shouldn’t exist there are no valid arguments against the angel colton parayko” [tru, but the blues have other hotties so I made the box to be fair to those of us who don’t like Big Blonde Sexies]

“uh valid i guess? idk any of the blues lmao” [LMAOOO I think they meant Vladdy, but “valid” cracked me up]

“ROR can lay me down” [ur so valid lmao]

Buffalo Sabres

Jeff Skinner (60.18%--136 of 226 votes)

Rasmus Ristolainen (17.26%--39 of 226 votes)

Other* (14.16%--32 of 226 votes)

Jack Eichel (8.41%--19 of 226 votes)

*= Inconclusive results. [Y’all big mad that I put Skinner on here. HE’S HOT!]

Write-ins

“Idk but not these lmao” [*instert that gif of the kardashians like “DON’T BE FUCKING RUDE”*]

“Why is Jeff Skinner an option he looks 12″ [who else tho sis. I looked at the roster!]

“If anyone says eichel i will come to their house and steal their toothbrushes. Its conor sheary.” [I took my own survey and picked Eichs but I still have my toothbrush so I guess......... I’m right.]

Bonus:

“Rasmus Ristolainen kinda looks like a creepy half-alive Ken doll, but I'll stand by my choice. Hire an exorcist.” [JDFKHRFWEH GIRL]

“They lost their only cute player when O’Reilly got traded sorry” [boom. roasted]

Vancouver Canucks

Brock Boeser (67.56%--152 of 225 votes)

Other* (13.78%--31 of 225 votes)

Jake Virtanen (12.44%--28 of 225 votes)

Ben Hutton (6.22%--14 of 225 votes)

*=Inconclusive results.

Write-ins

“[about Jake Virtanen] all that ass...........” [sjdkfhdkfhdkhfi yeah]

“the city of vancouver” [?????????????????????]

“I keep forgetting that the canucks actually exist” [I’m reasonably sure this is annie lmfao]

Bonus

“I don’t know how any of this team looks either” [idk if I follow Nucks blogs or what but how do u not know Boeser???]

“i don't care enough about this team to even attempt to answer” [this is my brain @ me on the last 5 questions of an exam]

New York Islanders

Mat Barzal (67.69%--155 of 229 votes)

Tito Beauvillier (14.85%--34 of 229 votes)

Jordan Eberle (10.48%--24 of 229 votes)

Other* (6.99%--16 of 229 votes)

*=Inconclusive results.

Write-ins

“you say put full names but then u go and say tito??” [LISTEN I was tired at this point and forgot that I was trying to be at least a little bit professional about my thirst survey alright? yeesh]

“Its Matt Martin my dude” [LMAO u funny]

“idk how anyone pays attention to mat when tito is always there looking better barzal looks like every attractive jock ive ever met and i dont trust that”

Calgary Flames

Noah Hanifin (37.95%--85 of 224 votes)

Elias Lindholm (32.59%--73 of 224 votes)

Matthew Tkachuk (20.54%--46 of 224 votes)

Other* (8.93%--20 of 224 votes)

*= Sean Monahan wins 4th hottest.

Write-ins

“[Hanifin] looks like the bad guy in a teen movie. the guy the Main Girl is dating in the beginning but is a real dick to her. you look at him and you KNOW he has a trust fund and votes republican. god he's so hot though” [hanny......... yeah.... yeah....]

“Why do I find Tkachuk attractive? I don't know but I love him” [me too]

“James 'The Real Deal' Neal” [lol I got this answer multiple times]

Washington Capitals

Tom Wilson (31.33%--73 of 233 votes)

Andre Burakovsky (29.18--68 of 233 votes)

Braden Holtby (24.03%--56 of 233 votes)

Other* (15.45%--36 of 233 votes)

*= Michal Kempny and Nicklas Backstrom tied for fourth hottest.

Write-ins

“literally no one, i s2g if i see anyone say ovi is attractive..... jfc god help them” [.... but ovi is dad-hot, also he got 3 votes]

“YOUR STANLEY CUP CHAMPIONS! Everyone btw just a hot team of hot ugly men and Tom Wilson” [kskdjskdjksks]

“my sweaty swedish sweetheart; Nicklas Backstrom” [I’m too illiterate to read this right the first time thru lol]

Colorado Avalanche

Gabe Landeskog ( 55.95%--127 of 227 votes)

Other* (22.47%--51 of 227 votes)

Erik “Horsegirl” Johnson (14.1%--32 of 227 votes)

Mikko Rantanen (7.49%--17 of 227 votes)

*= Tyson Barrie won by more than double of all the other write-ins, but honorable mentions go to Nate MacK, Colin Wilson, Tyson Jost, Phillip Grubauer, and The Avs Tumblr People.

Write-ins - I (jokingly) got called bitch so much in these write-ins, y’all feel some type of WAY about this team lmfao.

“but also the tysons. i would buy a whole farm just so those boys could plow me into the ground.” [i’m SCREECHING. this killed me lol]

“only attractive b/c of his proximity to horses? maybe so.” [.... girl what]

Okay, so instead of a third quote, cause I couldn’t pick, I’m gonna put all the other funny EJ comments I was contemplating:

“ej is soooo ugly in the hottest way possible”

“erik "big horny" johnson”

“oh my god Ej was included for once I'm weeping tears of joy”

“What that mouth do EJ?”

New Jersey Devils

Miles Wood (36.12%--82 of 227 votes)

Taylor Hall (33.48%--76 of 227 votes)

Brian Boyle (19.82%--45 of 227 votes)

Other* (10.57%--24 of 227 votes)

*= Nico Hischier with the majority of the write-ins, even tho he’s still a CHILD (under 20).

Write-ins, aka Mostly Taylor Hall Commentary.

“Does Michael McLeod count” [YES girl i love that boy]

“Gucciiiiiii”

“DSL GUCCI”

“Nico Hischier (Taylor Hall I still love you)”

“i chose taylor and i don’t even need a gucci purse”

“If Taylor Hall gave me a Gucci purse I'd vote for him”

“catch me w/ a gucci purse, girl!!!! for real tho miles wood”

Dallas Stars

DISCLAIMER: I mean no disrespect to Katie, she’s fab and I made this survey a month or so ago. If you don’t know what I mean by this--do not ask me, I will delete the message. Thank you!

Tyler Seguin (46.96%--108 of 230 votes)

Katie Hoaldridge (im gay) (35.22%--81 of 230 votes)

Other* (13.91%--32 of 230 votes)

Stephen Johns (3.91%--9 of 230 votes)

*= Jamie Benn.

Write-ins

“tyler seguin has no upper lip” [I screamed, not exaggerating]

“You have to choose [Seguin] but I do so under duress”

“Im gay too” [hell yeah, this is a mlm and wlw friendly survey!]

Edmonton Oilers

Jujhar Khaira (28.57%--64 of 224 votes)

Other* (27.68%--62 of 224 votes)

Contract McMoney (he is hot) (25.89%--58 of 224 votes)

Darnell Nurse (17.86%--40 of 224 votes)

*= Leon Draisaitl won by more than 5 times anyone elses write-in lmao.

Write-ins ft. “The Draisaitl Quotes”

“McMoney’s money- just his money” [lmao ok sammie, HE’S HOT!]

“cannot mcwingames went off in the gq shoot i admit” [*annie voice* OHMYGOD]

“He’s [Khaira] like a romance novel cover like, f me” [tru]

Drai Quotes

“Drai but like lucic cause Momma needs a man that could kill me” [HDGFDHDGFHDH]

“leon dreisetl (is that his name, is this how you spell it?)”

“Leon Draisaitl and his contract that he doesn't deserve” [backhanded compliment lmao]

“the one w the longass name. dry saitl or whatever” [girl. lmfao]

Winnipeg Jets

Jets/laine fans are funny so I’m adding all the funniest ones instead of just 3 or 5. Sorryyyyyy I’m here to entertain.

Blake Wheeler (44.04%--96 of 218 votes)

Mathieu Perreault (but specifically in his newest headshot) (21.56%--47 of 218 votes)

Other* (19.27%--42 of 218 votes)

Connor Hellebuyck (15.14%--33 of 218 votes)

*= Patrik Laine, even tho I said NOT TO, demons.

Write-ins

“Their logo so I can fly away from this stupid team”

“Nobody but I just needed to point out Connor Hellebuyck looks like a stage magician and that is Not Hot” [i respectfully disagree with the last bit but the first parts made me snort]

“I don't know who windy pegg is”

“Boeing 747″ [sjdjsljlshgdu]

“they’re all second to jacob trouba’s dog Donnie”

“Patty Laine, but like, without the demon beard”

“Let me live my life! Laine has a good voice and i have a LANGUAGE KINK!”

“Laine WITH the beard because I don't fear death”

“Sorry, Laine but only with his beard” [I love the halfhearted apology]

“Goatboi”

“ALL HAIL THE GOAT DEVIL”

“laine come at me bitch lol” [denny’s parking lot. 3 am. be there.]

“laine looks like a goat”

“Laine’s Beard”

“LAINE I like the beard but hockey Satan is good to hellebuyck” [I really felt like I was tripping balls while reading all these but, ESPECIALLY this one lmfao]

Arizona Coyotes

Oliver Ekman-Larsson (30.32%--67 of 221 votes)

Jakob Chychrun (28.05%--62 of 221 votes)

Dylan Strome (26.24%--58 of 221 votes)

Other* (15.38%--34 of 221 votes)

*= Alex Galchenyuk, with the majority of the votes.

Write-ins

“pls date me Chych” [annie, that’s my BF!]

“ 🐼 there is no raccoon emoji >:(”

“[Chychrun] [a]lso has a vampire quality but like trust fund baby vampire who has no morals. I’m...into it??” 

Honorable mentions: The 2 people who put Biz lmaoooo I love yall.

Carolina Hurricanes

Andrei Svechnikov [he’s a baby but I didn’t know who elseeee] (38.29%--85 of 222 votes)

Haydn Fleury (35.59%--79 of 222 votes)

Other* (15.77%--35 of 222 votes)

Dougie Hamilton (10.36%--23 of 222 votes)

*= Sebastian Aho wins the write-in vote [he ain’t it!]

Write-ins

“Justin Faulk (I’m old so svechnikov is out)” [ugh ur right I didn’t make this more inclusive to people not my age, i’m (genuinely) sorry!!!]

“Formerly Eric ‘the hottest Staal' Staal” [only on the cane’s write-in would I have this happen...]

“[Jordan] staal terrifies me but that's hot” [true!]

San Jose Sharks

Erik Karlsson (70.04%--159 of 227 votes)

Martin Jones (17.62%-- 40 of 227 votes)

Other* (11.01%--25 of 227 votes)

Justin Braun (idk) (1.32%--3 of 227 votes)

*= Inconclusive results.

Write-ins

“Daddy shark (doo doo doo)” [just so yall know this is, of course, annie, as in anzekopistar, an actual demon, she’s talking about Erik Karlsson :)]

“Brent Burns, you know im right” [are you tho?]

“Okay sometimes I have needs I think Joe Thorton sans beard could fill” [this is why joe shaved. he felt this person in the universe wanting him to, so he did, wow thank u joe]

Ottawa Senators (lol)

Matt Duchene (33.63%--75 of 223 votes)

The entire team (cause they’re a dumpster fire) (30.94%-- 69 [it’s that tkachuk fuckboi energy] of 223 votes)

Other (there are none)* (22.87%--51 of 223 votes)

Spartacat (12.56%--28 of 223 votes)

*= Inconclusive results (because a lot of you took my “there are none” joke a little too seriously and just chose that, no write-in lmao)

Write-ins

“[about Duchene] he's traitorous but it's like that sometimes i guess” [sjdhdjfhkdhf girl it’s okay.]

“.... we're a team“ [i-]

“the senator on their jerseys is p cute ig”

Bonus:

“oh so spartacat is an option but not gritty huh” [LISTEN the flyers are a HOT team, the sens are NOT. that’s why lmao]

“Just based on headshots I’m going with Ben Sexton like also how do you go wrong with that name”

Tampa Bay Lightning

Brayden Point (55.25%--121 of 219 votes)

Other* (22.83%--50 of 219 votes)

Mitchell Stephens (11.87%--26 of 219 votes)

Steve Yzerman (10.05%--22 of 219 votes)

*= Inconclusive results. Although there were a lot of responses none of them added up significantly sooo....

 Write-ins

“am i the only one who thinks stevie y was a bit of a twink when he was younger?” [jdhslihdalskdjefh]

“Worst team in the league i hate them and theyre all hideous” [u sure bout that, bud?]

“Stamkos (I love his tiny eyes)” [????]

Florida Panthers

 Aaron Ekblad (71.75%--160 of 223 votes)

Aleksander Barkov [r yall ok???] (11.66%--26 of 223 votes)

Other* (10.31%--23 of 223 votes)

Vincent Trocheck (6.28%--14 of 223 votes)

*= Inconclusive results.

Write-ins

“who are the panthers” [sometimes a team is a dog captain, a(n extremely hot) 27-year-old lawyer, and not owen tippett because the panthers hate me specifically]

“Roberto Luongo during Parkland speech” [... valid]

“barkov is literally the only player i know on this team” [shey would be happy to teach u about the panthers!]

Anaheim Ducks

Adam Henrique (52.47%--117 of 223 votes)

No one else (29.6%--66 of 223 votes)

Other* (10.76%--24 of 223 votes)

John Gibson (7.17%--16 of 223 votes)

*=Inconclusive results.

Write-ins-Ducks fans don’t @ me but i’m pretty sure half of these were submitted by y’all anyways....

“if i look @ anyone on the ducks roster for more than 5 seconds i BLACK OUT” [KSHDGJDHSKH Adam tho....]

“Quack Quack go lay your eggs somewhere else you feathered FUCKS” [sjdjfhdjsksj]

“legal 2 say kesler?” [no. go to jail]

Bonus

“Henrique is fine I have no qualms about your selections” [thnk u]

“jared coreau!!! GOOGLE HIM i’m right” [I said this, and we’ve talked, but I need people to know that I, after seeing this, subsequently found out that the Wings didn’t sign coreau back this offszn lmao] 

Nashville Predators

Roman Josi (39.39%--91 of 231 votes)

PK Subban (37.66%--87 of 231 votes)

Kevin Fiala (13.42%--31 of 231 votes)

Other* (9.52%--22 of 231 votes)

*= Pekka Rinne for 4th hottest. [My mom loves him for his name lol. she says it’s “fun”]

Write-ins 

“pk wears cool hats. I like that in a man”

“I don't find any of them hot (Josi used too be hot and then I learned he was illiterate and now I feel nothing but pity towards him)” [GIRL]

“preds are also ugly. pk subban would be attractive if he werent a pred” [lmao. what’d they do to u ?]

Columbus Blue Jackets

Pierre-Luc Dubois (50.22%--113 of 225 votes)

Zach Werenski (20.44%--46 of 225 votes)

Josh Anderson (16.89%--38 of 225 votes)

Other* (12.44%--28 of 225 votes)

*= Alex Wennberg is 4th hottest [lmao]

Write-ins

“Can I put werenskie and Anthony Duclair” [valid]

“Just to be clear CBJ is by far the hottest team exemplified by the fact that you left Seth Jones and Alexander Wenneberg off this list when they're like top 20 in hotness. Also Nick Foligino wins if we include looks and personality.” [I didn’t include them cause this is a mix of hot and ugly hot fam, the avs are 100% the hottest team in the NHL, and that’s coming from me, a Wings fan, destined to hate the Avs for my entire life. Also???? The hotter Foligno is def Marcus lmao]

“[About Werenski] only with the scar though otherwise seth jones” [GIRL scars don’t disappear??? WDYM only with the scar??? Are you a time traveler??? lmfaooo]

Minnesota Wild

J.T. Brown (46.46%--105 of 226 votes)

Other* (21.68%--49 of 226 votes)

Eric Staal (20.80%--47 of 226 votes)

Jason Zucker (11.06%--25 of 226 votes)

*= Charlie Coyle. Honorable mentions to Zach Parise and Matt Dumba.

Write-ins

“Charlie Coyle man! V hot, could kill you, gently waves at babies, 10/10″ [exactly my type! wow]

“ Not JT[,] Lexi is the hottest[,] Eric Staal from a few years ago is also hot” [I added commas to your thing cause.... girl it took me a sec to understand what u were tryna say. But also ur right it’s Lexi.]

“love a #wokebae jt” [yaaas]

FINALLY this legit took me like 10+ hours of work cause I had to transcribe all the info cohesively and then go thru all the responses lmao.

Vegas Golden Knights

William Karlsson (40.52%--94 of 232 votes)

Marc-Andre Fleury (30.60%--71 of 232 votes)

Max Pacioretty (16.81%--39 of 232 votes)

Other* (12.07%--28 of 232 votes)

*= Inconclusive results.

Write-ins

“[Karlsson] because he looks like young Bill from Mamma Mia” [shfhdjdhf girl]

“fleury isn't hot you absolute monster” [???????? drink ur bitterness tea somewhere else pls]

“let's find out just how wild this boy is” [pftd dtduftdhjfgdjfghdjf]

Bonus/Honorable mentions:

The TWO people who put “colin miller’s eyelashes” lmfaoooo

Alrighty this is The End! If you’d like to see another survey by me let me know in my messages/ask!!! Also sorry for stealing de la Rose from u, habs fans

[insecure-hbo-the-recaps]

backwards-like

ok ok, sorry sorry sorry i’m back. i’m a few weeks behind and watching these episodes for the first time no spoilers.

Previously on Insecure: Living with Daniel was a lick. Daniel wants to make connections at the club. We Got Y’all needs to hire people of color. And Molly switched to a black run law firm.

Looky looky looky. Issa and Daniel are sleeping in bed together, platonically of course. Daniel teases her and at first you think they are still playing platonic, but they soon begin kissing and Daniel goes down on her. There is totally a scene full of Issa Rae's naked pelvis and hard nipples which I have to say is an improvement over her very awkward sex scenes last season. I approve. Idk about the eating Flamin Hots while getting head, but I understand the sentiment being expressed. But then! That was a fake out too, yet another of Issa's frequent fantasies about the person she wishes she could be but is not, like yelling at her coworkers at work or going on dates with her ex who dumped her last season. She got me that time.

Why are they sleeping together platonically? Issa quickly rolls out of bed and leaves before acting on any of the things she's thinking.

Molly is taking her bulldog to the dog groomer. She hasn't started at her new job yet. Issa hasn't had the interview yet for the invitation she had in the last episode but Molly is just happy she will be getting her own place soon. Issa clearly isn't quite ready to leave the safety (not to mention financially beneficial) arrangement she has with Daniel, but isn't being totally honest about that. Her makeup looks fantastic though.

Molly doesn't see what the big deal is since Issa is sleeping on the couch, but Issa's awkward response makes it clear they she and Daniel have started sharing a bed. Like a good friend, Molly knows this isn't a good idea, but Issa defends her poor choices while eating a dog biscuit.

We Got Y'all is participating in like... a non profit fair or something? I really like Frieda in a supervisory role, and it looks like Issa is doing better from the redheaded stepchild position she had been in before.

Meanwhile, Molly is having her first day at her new law firm. Her dress has a confusing belt thing going on but a cute ribbon tie at the neck. She meets all of the staff and I enjoy just the concept of a firm staffed entirely by black people. That's a nice thing to see on TV. And the view isn't bad either.

Can I just say that I actually love LA? I expected to hate it and for it to be full of nothing but bleach blonde fake boobed bimbos. First of all the people were totally normal - far more "normal" "American" people than I was expecting, which is to say... overweight, basically. New York was a lot worse/better - nothing but thin and fit people in really fantastic clothes. I never saw a fat person in New York until I went to Times Square with the tourists. I could totally live in LA and be completely happy with the vibe, it is honestly not that dissimilar to Chicago at all. After visiting a few times I really don't know why people hate LA so much. You know what I hated was San Francisco... a surprisingly ugly city! And before I ever went to California I used to tell people if I were to live anywhere there it would probably be SF. Oof. That's what happens when you speak in ignorance, sis.

Daniel is working on a new track which sounds like a cross between a video game soundtrack and a sad "my life was hard" rap song. He's hoping Spyder will like it, and solicits criticism from his producer friend. I don't know his name, sorry. The producer friend doesn't like basically any of the components of the song and criticizes things he thinks Spyder won't like. I'm not sure if we should trust his opinion more than Daniel's at this point. The caption says that he "strips down" the beat. They both sound like the same sad ass song to me, so idk.  But Daniel is clearly uncomfortable with the criticism.

It turns out We Got Y'all is hosting a booth at a job fair, looking for the more black employees Issa suggested. Frieda and her manager haircut are happy with the turnout. For some reason, Dias de La Muerte dancers show up complete with a band and everything and I guess job fairs in LA are more interesting than any I've ever been to... which now that I'm thinking about it is zero...

It turns out this is part of a presentation for another employer that works with musically gifted kids in underrepresented neighborhoods. Issa goes over and talks to the staff there and seems impressed with their shtick. Or maybe impressed with the cutie manning the booth.

Uh oh. At Molly's new firm she's learning the office doesn't use standard tech that she's used to expediting her work with. Instead of DocuSign, they use Adobe and a courier. Yikes. I worked at a nonprofit that still didn't have efax and, why? This is the whole ass future. We wasted so much paper printing and faxing everything manually and they didn't even have the big blue recycling bins, which annoyed me to no end. They are also ok with CPT time on the courier deliveries, which is clearly unacceptable to Molly. Sigh. Why do we do this, you know?

Issa is meeting with the property management company and is being interviewed by an older black guy, which is a good sign. Let me reiterate that her makeup is lovely. It seems like the part time position is more the role of a super than... something Issa would really be interested in. She would also get a discounted apartment - about half off - that the interviewer is readily willing to give to her. He asks if she wants it, and at least she has a good bathroom mirror again with which to comtemplate it.

Later, Issa is tagging along with Daniel at the laundromat, who is complaining that his producer friend took out all the "musicianship" in his track - he wanted the string accompaniment, he wanted the instruments. Daniel is trying to elevate his production with Nordic influences and unique touches. Issa offers gently that when he gets to the next level he can do whatever he want, suggesting nonverbally that he should play the game for now and get creative later.

Issa tells him she picked up the second job, so now she can move out. Daniel points out that three jobs is a lot but Issa, perhaps pressured by Molly and Kelly, is really focused on getting her own place. Daniel tells her he really doesn't mind, and their chemistry is lovely as they flirt and get in each others' faces. They are doing a good job of building the tension because I really just want them to bone already.

Back at Molly's firm, a coworker asks if she wants to take a walk for lunch because she's in a fitbit challenge with her MiL. I am sharing data from my Apple watch with my sister and my niece and biiiitch... being a child is the best. She regularly gets 500+ move points a day while I struggle to reach 400, wtf is this child doing all day? She clearly moves so much more often during a day than I do, lol. No wonder we get fat as we get older. However Molly turns down this invitation - she is used to working through lunch, in case you weren’t picking up on all the signs that the black owned firm does not run as strenuously compared to the white-run environments that Molly is used to. The emphasize the point, the storage room is just randomly inside the building instead of offsite, as Molly would have expected. She clearly is not a good fit for this environment, and honestly she should just acknowledge that.

Girls night. The four girls are at a bar listening to Molly complain about the firm. Issa points out there are Mexican law firms as well, for Molly to complain about. Of course Tiffany, the obnoxious one, agrees that black things are janky. I mean... this is not an argument I want to get into for obvious reasons.

The girls go through examples of supporting and not supporting black businesses - Tiffany loves Beyonce, so although she signed up for Tidal she never goes on it. Kelly has a white accountant even though she herself is an accountant. I feel like this all the time. I feel pressured to give clicks to black articles, lol. I feel guilty for skipping links on Twitter about "black issues." I feel a responsibility to care and show support even about things that I don't fucking actually give a fuck about. Also Issa is wearing a dress that definitely showed up in some pivotal scene last season.

Tiffany hints about the changes from pregnancy - she hates that she can't fit her clothes anymore and she's being excluded from group chats. But the overall point is Molly should give the situation some time and try to adjust. Is Amanda Diva really pregnant IRL? Her pregnancy belly is realistic.

Kelly was helping Issa find an apartment - the best she could do with Issa's credentials is something with a "half bath," which, biiiiitch. So Issa breaks the news that she is, in fact, going to stay with Daniel a little longer. They're not sleeping together and they're getting along so she doesn't see what the problem is. Her friends try to convince her there is a problem, and shit like this scene is why I don't listen to bitches when it comes to my romantic life. Don't need all that extraneous input on what choices to make that are best for ME.

Back at We Got Y'all, Issa and Frieda are interviewing one of the people that showed up at the job fair. For some reason, Issa clearly isn't feeling it - and why is she taking part of this interview in the first place? Is it literally just because they need a black opinion on who to hire? The girl compliments Issa's sweater, perhaps perceiving the bad vibes she's kind of rudely wafting. The candidate asks sincerely what Issa thinks of the job, and Issa answers honestly that "they are how they are." When Issa says she's been there five years and the candidate concludes that Issa must really like it, she blanches with no response. But later, Issa checks out the website for the musical empowerment employer, so maybe she will find the motivation to make a change.

More of Molly's black firm, more of her disdain for the loose standards. This time they call her out, and everyone at the table laughs politely.

Check out Daniel! Despite Spyder's reluctance, apparently they have established a working relationship as Spyder shows up at the studio to meet with Daniel and the other engineer. It turns out a friend of Spyder did get shot at the club the other night. He probably died because when Daniel asks if Spyder is alright, Spyder takes a beat and responds "....nah."

Daniel plays his track for Spyder instead of the pared down version his producer recommended. The producer asks if Spyder wants to hear the other version and Daniel is clearly annoyed at this power move. He does play the producer - Khalil's - version, and Spyder thinks that version is hot as well. At first you aren't sure if Khalil is really being a snake - clearly both versions are good, just for different sensibilities - but then he takes over the session and starts playing more of his own stuff, to Daniel's chagrin.

Issa and Daniel are having dinner... I wanna say at Gladstone's! But that's a totally uneducated guess, lol. Daniel is in a bad mood, but Issa is oblivious. "Is that Jay-Z and Beyonce?" she says; "No, it's us! We cute!" she playfully jokes. This breaks through Daniel's bad mood, and Issa explains she wanted to thank him for his generosity, but she is going to take the part time job and move out. Daniel responds petulantly, and eventually explains the snake move by Khalil in the studio. Surprisingly, Issa takes Khalil's side, saying that Khalil knows what Spyder likes, and Daniel would be squandering this opportunity to be so prideful.

Daniel says he thinks it's funny that Issa is giving *him* career advice and... while maybe that's valid, does Daniel even have a job that pays actual money? Cause I have to say I have not seen any evidence of that over the last three seasons. He throws his "saving you from some shit" actions in her face and Issa is understandably hurt. The dinner is ruined. They still sleep together in the bed that night but they are turned away from each other in terse silence.

Daniel halfway apologizes for taking out his issues with Khalil on her but Issa only dryly replies that it's fine. He turns over and starts spooning and kissing her, which she reluctantly gives into. Toxic. I mean, I get it, but fuck, toxic relationships. It seems redundant to even complain about it because, fuck it, aren't we all toxic sometimes too - it's not always just the other person. This time, he goes down on her for real.

Unfortunately, Issa isn't into it. She says it doesn't feel right, and I don't blame her. They lie next to each other awkwardly and eventually turn away from each other again.

the soundtrack says something something something about loving each other despite their pride and yeah... I get it, lol. I would have got it without the on the nose elaboration.

[theslayersblog]

SlaYers novel 1 chapter 1

Slayers novel 1

Beware of Bandits That Go Grump in the Night

So there I was, tearing through the woods at top speed, a gang of murderous bandits hot on my tail.

Why were they chasing me, you ask? Well, it’s a long, boring story and besides, where I come from, it’s not all that odd to find yourself being chased through the woods at top speed by a gang of murderous bandits. Especially if you’re me.

If you really want to know why I can tell you, but you don’t need to know why. Actually, it’s probably safer if you don’t know. Look, it might ruin the story for you, okay? And you wouldn’t want to ruin the story, would you? Of course, you wouldn’t.

So anyway, where were we before I was so rudely interrupted? Ah, yes: I was tearing through the woods at top speed, a gang of murderous bandits hot on my tail.

Okay, I might’ve stolen something from the bandits. There. Are you happy now? It’s possible that I sneaked into their little bandit camp and helped myself to the teensiest, tiniest bit of treasure, and it’s conceivable that they were a tad peeved about that. And I suppose that might have had something to do with why they were chasing me. Maybe.

It was barely a speck of pixie dust, I swear. And for that, they wanted to wring my neck! Sheesh. How stingy can you be? Not that I’ve ever heard of generous bandits, mind you. But still.

Can we move on now?

There I was, tearing through the woods at top speed, a gang of murderous bandits hot on my tail. I had a good lead on them, but they were sprinting on masculine and murderous feet and I was—er—traipsing along on my ever-so-dainty lotus blossoms— What? My feet are dainty!—so I knew I wouldn’t have the advantage for long.

Not being big on precautionary measures, I screeched to a halt and peeked out from beneath my hood to evaluate my options. The trees on either side of the road were too dense for me to cut through. Even at midday, I wouldn’t be able to see two feet in front of me.

The bandits were closing in, their bloodlust hanging thick in the air. Even the birds had sensed the danger and stopped singing—I was trapped!

Now, when I say road, bear in mind that the road we were running on was more like a path. It was as though some guy had hacked his way through the woods with a machete, figuring that hiking single file was a fine method of travel. Weeds grew high on either side, and starting a scuffle in them was not exactly appealing.

Knowing the terrain better than I did, the enemy had been able to circle around and surround me. I wasn’t too sure of the situation, so I decided it was best to mind my manners for the time being. Still, I had to say something to flush them out.

“I know you’re there,” I shouted, biting my tongue to squelch the sarcasm.

“Well, hello there, toots.”

Who’s it gonna be this time? I wondered. A talking skeleton, maybe? A zombie? Nope. Who’da thunk your average eyepatch-wearing bald brute would have the nerve to call me “toots”? Go figure.

Maybe he’d bolstered his confidence with his oh-so-scary outlaw outfit? Aware that any good look starts off with decent skincare, baldy had gone for a bronzy glow—by massaging his skin with what, judging by the smell, could only have been fetid pork fat. He sported a shirtless ensemble, accessorized with a scimitar, achieving a style that screamed, “I AM A FILTHY, DISGUSTING THUG!” And yet, despite his brute fashion, it seemed he was bent on talking me to death.

“What ya did to us back there wasn’t nice,” he growled.

No duh, genius.

“And now, here ya are, all by yer lonesome and at our mercy.” He licked his lips.

Um… ew.

“Aw now, ya can relax” he said, and slid into a smile so greasy that his cheeks actually made squishing sounds. “I don’t wanna fight ya, toots. Ya look like a biter, ya do, and I don’t fancy tussling with a gal who’d leave me marked.”

“Now, ya got yerself an impressive set of balls, I gotta say. Downright admirable. And yer technique’s real professional-like—busting in and tossing magic around left and right, setting the place aflame, cooking the boss-man to a crisp, and then, once the ruckus was well under way, sneaking into the vault and making off with our loot. Speaking strictly as a professional, I gotta say I was impressed.”

Um, earlier I forgot to mention the parts about the fire and the leader-killing, didn’t I? Sorry about that. I guess that had something to do with why they were chasing me, too. Oh well. No rest for the wicked, I always say.

“Ya got us good. At first we figured we’d chase ya down and exact our revenge, in a fashion befitting our scurrilous reputation, but somewheres along the road I got to thinking maybe there’s a better way, hmmm… ? Maybe the thing to do is to have ya join up with us, huh? Whaddaya say, toots?”

Join up with you? I feel like I need to take a shower just for talking to you, cretin.

“Ya’ll have to return the booty, of course, but ya agree to join up with us and we’ll consider yer killin’ the boss to be water under the bridge.”

I acted like I was thinking it over.

“It ain’t a bad deal I’m offering ya,” he continued. “It’s what ya might call nonviolent conflict resolution, makin’ the best out of a had situation. Give and take: We make use of yer talents, and ya got yerself a gang. Ya give us back our stolen treasure, and we let ya keep breathing. It ain’t such a bad deal, see? Whaddaya say?” he asked, and his smile opened up like a wound.

I see how it is, I thought. Until I knocked off their leader, baldy here had been the number-two guy. So really, I did him a favor. He doesn’t want revenge; he just wants his treasure back and the addition of my special skills to his arsenal. He was probably sweet on me, too. Who could blame him? Unfortunately for him, I have a strict no-return policy where treasure is concerned, and I’m just not depraved enough to hook up with a band of thieves.

Could you imagine waking up every morning to a guy like that asking you, “What’s up, toots?” No, thank you. Ladies, where are the princes on white horses the storybooks promised us, huh? Couldn’t there be just one among this sea of ill-mannered thugs?

Yeah, I didn’t think so. Oh well. A girl can dream.

“Better answer fast, toots. Never know what kind of scum’s roaming around this neck of the woods. Ain’t no place to be a-napping.”

That guy sure was a talker. Bear in mind, I hadn’t said a word since he’d started yammering. I stood there silently while he went on and on and on. And on. And on, some more. What is it with men loving to hear the sound of their own voice?

Right about the time he started winding down with, “So, toots, how’s about it?” I sensed another presence entering our sphere. Hmmm…

“Not a chance,” I growled in as low a voice as I could manage without straining, and I dug my heels in the ground to emphasize my point.

“Why, ya little…” he snarled and he stopped, his mouth hanging open as his wee bandit brain struggled to simultaneously process anger and disappointment. Multitasking evidently wasn’t his strong point, and the pressure caused him to turn bright red. Actual steam shot out of his ears, I think.

“Ya little…” He tried again.

Finally, he found the words he was searching for: “Ya little arrogant bitch.”

Oh, bravo. I can see why it took you so long to come up with that one.

“I made ya a generous offer and ya threw it back in my face! For that, we’re gonna feed ya yer liver! Have at ‘er, boys!”

And with that, ten men stepped out of the forest and surrounded me. Ten.

“Ten guys? That’s it?” It just slipped out. I didn’t want to be rude, but ten? C’mon. It was insulting. Oh sure, the ten guys puffed up their chests and made a show of how tough they were, which I suppose I appreciated, but really. Ten guys? It was as if they had no faith in me. Sad.

“Oh now, this ain’t all of us, toots. Our mates in the woods are aiming their razor-tipped arrows at ya right now. When I say the word—THWANNG! Yer a pincushion. Now, I’m gonna give ya one more chance to save yerself.”

Amateurs! Those were obvious lies. As both a swordswoman and a sorceress, I have impeccable instincts for when I’m being aimed at. If I were in anyone else’s crosshairs, I’d have known it. Those peabrains were way beneath my talents, and I was starting to get bored, when…

“Shall I wait for you to call some friends, so we can have a fair fight?”

The presence I’d sensed earlier! We all turned to see where that zinger had come from. A lone wandering mercenary materialized from among the trees, the rays of morning light reflecting off his drawn sword.

Somebody cue the chorus of angels, would you?

That man was an awe-inspiring vision of wondrous wonderfulness. He was tall, he was blond, and did I say tall already? His breastplate had been forged from the scales of a black iron serpent and judging by his sword, he made a decent living as an archetypical light fighter: fast and skilled. I told you he was tall, right? Did I mention he was a hottie?

“Piece of advice, fellas: If you all take off at a dead sprint now, a few of you might actually make it back to the rock you’ve crawled from under before I catch up and exterminate you like the vermin you are. One or two of you might even escape with your lives. That is, if you start right now”

Not a bad threat, I thought.

The chatty bald beast sputtered and spewed and spat and at last shouted back, “Just who the hell are ya to be creeping out from the woods and interrupting our delicate negotiations with yer ugly threats and insults, huh?”

“I don’t care to sully my name by giving it to you,” the blond replied.

Ouch. Okay, well, that was a little embarrassing. Frankly, the whole thing just got more clichéd and harder to stomach from there. Not that I had any choice, I mean, where was I going to go? I just stood there, probably looking like I’d swallowed a bug, which is pretty much how I felt.

I shouldn’t have complained, right? I mean, doesn’t every girl want a handsome rescuer to sweep in when she’s in a pinch? So what if she could’ve handled the whole thing on her own and the handsome rescuer in question didn’t have the verbal acuity she was hoping for? A gal can’t afford to be too picky these days, can she? I know, I know, but play along, will ya?

“Ya little… !”

Oh no. You think he’ll do any better this time?

“Ya impertinent cad!��

Guess not.

“We’re gonna feed ya both yer livers now! Have at ‘em, boys!”

At last, the sword fight began.

I considered helping the guy out, but I didn’t want to embarrass him. Besides, the proper role of a heroine is to run around shrieking in an excruciatingly high-pitched voice, isn’t it? I mean, otherwise what’s the point?

                        I’d never done the running-around-and-shrieking thing before, and I gotta say, should you get the opportunity, I highly recommend it. It’s a lot more fun than you’d expect.

Anyway, there I was, shrieking like my life depended on it and pretending I had no idea what was going on around me. Sadly, the whole thing wrapped up quickly. The blond prevailed, of course.

Breathless and glowing with victory, he made his way over a minefield of bandit bodies and swept up to me. “Are you all right, milady?” he asked, his eyes seeking out my own. He took his first good long look at me, drinking in my loveliness, and… he was speechless.

Now, I don’t want to brag, but I am not exactly lacking in the looks department. Big, round eyes, a peaches-and-cream complexion; all perched atop a tight little body in petite proportions. Poor thing, he didn’t stand a chance.

He sighed—with admiration and longing, I was sure. When at last able to speak, he did so quietly, as though mumbling a prayer. It was barely as audible as a whisper, and had I not been a gifted sorceress with the enhanced hearing that accompanies that role, I probably wouldn’t have heard him at all. O lucky me!

 “Great. She’s just a kid.”

Just a kid? Okay. That stung a little.

Oh, but wait—there’s more!

“This is what I get for not looking more carefully before I get into these things. I mean, I like kids. I want to be a standup guy, but c’mon! Ten guys, I fought! Ten guys! Is it so much to ask that one of these days there’s a babe waiting for me at the other end? Somebody hot, you know? All breathless and grateful… is that too much to hope for? Apparently so. And now I’m stuck looking after Little Miss No-Boobs.”

Gah!

Okay, I suppose I am a little underdeveloped for a girl my age. And I’m… I’m not very tall. All right, I’m short. Is that what you want me to say? I’m short and I’m flat-chested. What’s the big deal, huh? At least I can run fast and my clothes hang right. Boobs are overrated, if you ask me.

Shit! Why do they always get you where you’re sensitive?

I’m sure he didn’t think I could hear his mumbling. A normal person couldn’t have, but for better or worse, my ears are as sensitive as an elf’s. For worse this time, I’d say. Ouch.

Regardless, he had helped me out of a bit of a pinch, so I had an obligation to thank him.

“Th-thank you very much,” I stuttered, and I smiled as broadly as I could.

“No need to thank me at all.” He managed something of a smile in return. ‘Are you hurt, little miss?”

Little miss?! God, help me…

“You know, it’s not safe for a little girl to be wandering around in an area like this on her own. Were you traveling with your father or someone? Are you separated? Lost?”

Grr… “No, no… I’m—uh—by myself…”

I guessed maybe all that blond hair was making it hard for him to see. I mean, if it had been me, I’d like to think I’d have figured out pretty quickly that the lovely creature before me was no helpless little kid.

“Well, I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you. How about if I escort you home, sweetie?”

Oh, now… wait just a damn minute—!

“Where do your mommy and daddy live?”

Grrrrrr! “Uh, I’m by myself. I don’t live anywhere, exactly… I was just heading to Atlas City—”

“I see, well, there’s no need for you to explain. I understand completely. You’re in a pretty rough spot, aren’t you?”

“Huh?”

“I completely understand. We all have our circumstances,” he said in a maddeningly condescending tone.

“No, um, I don’t think you do understand.”

“Oh, I understand more than you think I understand.”

What?! I don’t even think I understand what it is you think that I think that you don’t understand!

In retrospect, I think he thought he’d rescued a helpless little girl who’d been forced to live on her own as a result of some sort of tragedy At the time, I suspected he was going to keep spewing the same reassurances until he died of suffocation or I died of embarrassment. One of us had to put an end to it.

“No, really. I’m fine. I appreciate your kindness, but I’m not a victim. I’m an adventuress, off to see the world.” I was telling him the truth—which, incidentally, was no small feat for me!

“Really, I don’t mean to pry, miss. You don’t have to make any excuses for my benefit.”

Okay, now, this just sucks. For once in my life, I’m not making excuses!

I didn’t know what else to say.

‘All right then, miss. How about if I stick with you and see that you reach Atlas City safely?”

Bad ideal Bad ideal Bad—idea!

“Oh mister, n-no… no—no need for you to go so far out of your way! I-I couldn’t.”

I wasn’t kidding, either. Atlas City was TEN DAYS AWAY I couldn’t imagine spending twenty-four hours a day side by side with Mr. Perceptiveness for TEN DAYS without succumbing to the temptation to commit the premeditated murder of a blond.

“It’s all right,” he said. “I think you need a friend.”

He was obviously committed to the idea.

“But… I…”

The conversation went on like that for a while. I objected. He objected to my objection. I understood where he was coming from, but I thought he misunderstood. He appreciated my understanding, but he thought I misunderstood his understanding. And so on until, between understanding, misunderstanding, thinking and objecting, my head was throbbing, and I no longer cared who went with me, so long as we got moving.

We hadn’t been on the road twenty minutes before he felt the need to speak again. “I don’t believe we’ve introduced ourselves yet. I’m Gourry. As you’ve likely deduced, I’m a traveling swordsman. And you?”

I considered giving him a fake name, but honestly, I was too tired to see the point.

“I’m Lina. I’m a… traveler.”

There. I gave him my real name. And I am a traveler. So maybe I left out a few important details. So what? Gourry had already proven he wasn’t the type to ask penetrating questions. I figured that he’d buy pretty much anything I wanted to sell him about my circumstances, which, as far as I was concerned, was a point in his favor.

And maybe he wasn’t exactly a brain trust unto himself, but he seemed like a nice guy His heart was in the right place, anyway.

It wasn’t like he’d been all, “Hey little missy, let’s you and I go take little voyage together, heh, heh, heh…” Um, ew. If he’d shown any sort of sleazy ulterior motive, I’d have turned him into troll meal. But, he seemed genuinely concerned about me, so I couldn’t exactly be mean to him. And he really wasn’t getting under my skin like I’d figured he would. Still, the prospect of being treated like a kid all the way to Atlas City did not bode well for either of us. Not that I wanted him to flirt with me, that’s not what I’m saying. I just… I’m digging a hole here, aren’t I? Okay, whatever. Let’s just leave it at: He seemed like a nice guy.

With Gourry “escorting” me, I didn’t get a chance to be alone and catch my breath until after we’d found a town that night, gotten directions to the local inn, had some dinner, checked in, gone to our rooms, and said bonsoir for the evening. It sure felt great to be alone. The room wasn’t especially large, and it smelled like burning oil. The, uh, decor left something to be desired, but it was furnished with all that I required—a bed, table, and oil lamp—and it felt downright posh after the day I’d had.

I unfastened my mantle—which is a loose, sleeveless coat or cloak—and tossed it on the floor. It hit the hardwood with a thud, a jingle, and a series of ker-chinks.

Oh, like you’ve never thrown your clothes on the floor. Who are you, my mom? I was tired. Leave me alone.

Thanks to a little spell I’d whipped up to keep my hands free, my mantle, which extends from my collar to my knees, always lies flat, even though it’s lined with leather pouches for holding my loot.

It remains smooth, but unfortunately not silent, and the clanking and clinking of confiscated bandit booty had been driving me nuts all day. I was looking forward to the chance to empty the pouches and appraise my spoils. This was no small task, mind you, as I’d been… uh… working without a vacation for a while, and I hadn’t had a chance to organize. And those leather pouches fill fast because of my basic plundering philosophy, which is to grab anything that looks like it might be valuable and then sort it all out later.

The paltry amount of light produced by a cheap lodge-oil lamp was hardly sufficient for proper treasure evaluation, so I formed a sphere of light between my open palms, and then proceeded to raise it to the ceiling. Voilà! Just a simple lighting spell, but it was bright enough to tan in that room when I was finished. I emptied my leather pouches and spread their contents on the floor around me. I counted some two or three hundred glittering gemstones, a few coins, a large knife, and a statue of some sort.

I could tell right off that most of the gemstones were flawed. The statue appeared to be of a goddess, but more important, it was made of Orihalcon, and for that reason alone was a valuable find. The knife had some kind of “weapons magic” attached to it, that I couldn’t identify. I considered trying to use it, but you never know what something like that might do to an innocent bystander. I decided that the safest thing would be to pawn it at the next magic shop I came across. Finally, there were a few dozen coins minted by the Duchy of Ledis, and since the Duchy had been destroyed some five hundred years before, I figured they would fetch a tidy sum.

And that was it.

It wasn’t much of a haul, but what else would you expect from a low-end operation like Baldy McEyepatch and his Ten Merry Hoods?

A mountain of flawed gemstones is still a mountain of gemstones, and a mountain of gemstones is a sight to behold. A girl could buy herself many a fancy-schmancy dinner with even half a mountain of gemstones. And what else does any girl need?

Well actually, if she happens to be a sorceress, she needs a whole lot more than a few nice dinners to make her way in the world! But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Back to the gemstones.

I divided them by type, and then into flawed and flawless groups. The flawless gems were fine as they were, but the flawed ones couldn’t be sold for much. Unless…

I fished a crystal sphere about the size of a child’s fist out of my bag and placed it on the floor in front of me. It spun around several times, and then came to a decisive stop with its engraved symbol pointing to my right.

I pulled a parchment from my bag. Its breadth and width measured the span of my arm, and it glowed the color of an elf maiden’s skin.

This probably goes without saying, but just in case: I need you to keep anything I tell you about my materials on the down low. My spells are trade secrets, and the last thing I need is a bunch of amateurs stirring up forces they can’t control. So, all the details of spell-casting? Just between us, okay? Cool!

From my bag I retrieved another, smaller parchment bearing a symbol block-printed on it. I took one of the flawless rubies and positioned it over the symbol on the larger parchment. I then placed the smaller parchment over the ruby, like I was making a ruby-and-parchment sandwich. As I chanted a fire spell, the smaller paper ignited, turning to ashes in an instant.

“Step one, check!” I peered into the gemstone from above. Sure enough, the symbol from the smaller paper had sealed itself inside the gem.

I then selected one of the flawed rubies and held it lightly in my left hand, four-to-six inches above the marked gem, while chanting an air spell. The stone in my hand crumbled into a shower of blood-colored dust, which sifted down onto the bewitched stone below

I repeated the technique until I’d disposed of the last of the flawed rubies, and the large parchment, on which the stone had rested, was covered with a mound of ruby dust.

“Step two…”

Over the mound, I sprinkled some clear liquid from a small bottle, placed my left palm over that, and chanted a succession of earth-and-water spells, much like the fire-and-air spells I’d used before. My palm got hot as the ruby dust flared with bright white light. After a moment, the light dimmed, and the pile had taken the form of a large ruby dumpling.

Ta-da! Total victory!

What? Don’t you like giant ruby dumplings? Okay, psych! That wasn’t what I was going for either. But just wait.

At first, the dumpling looked like an ill-conceived attempt at pottery. But slowly the surface began to glaze over, and then, a few minutes later, it hardened. The dumpling had shaped itself into a larger version of the bewitched ruby, complete with enclosed power symbol.

“One down!”

I used the same technique on the remaining emeralds, sapphires, and amethysts. When I was done, I had a set of enchanted gems that could be used as simple talismans or combined with other charms or weapons to enhance their powers. More important, I could sell them for a much better price.

Time out. I’d like to take a moment and mention that my own pendant—as well as my bandana and the short sword that I wear on my hip—have all been enhanced in just this way. If you don’t have a jeweled amulet, I highly recommend that you acquire one. They’re fashionable, oh-so-practical, and right now, they’re all the rage with the well-to-do. If you do decide to get one, I would advise that you spare no expense and get the best you can afford. If you’re a person of means, you can even have it custom-made by a talented and experienced sorceress.

Someone like me for instance. I could totally hook you up.

Okay, end of commercial.

Only nine more days to Atlas City. Hang in there, Lina!

* * *

The following morning, Gourry and I traveled on, side-by-side. The weather was perfect, and a symphony of gurgles from a nearby stream filled the air. A gentle breeze wafted through the woods around us, turning the leaves of various trees into nature’s own confetti. Golden light filtered through powder-puff clouds, making the path before us glow. It was one of those magical days.

I closed my eyes, drew in a chestful of the purest air in the world and thought: If I don’t eat something soon, I’m going to have to kill someone.

Hey! I don’t kid around when it comes to food. A girl’s gotta eat when a girl’s gotta eat. And this girl’s gotta eat often.

The next inn was a full day’s hike from the last one with nothing but rocks and weeds in between. As it crept up on noon, I started looking around for a flat area off the road to settle down with my lunch pack.

“Hang in there, little lady.”

Gourry had noticed my energy waning and mistook my insatiable hunger for fatigue. He was trying to say something to bolster my spirits, which was nice, but I really wished he’d cut the “little lady” crap.

“Times like these, a man’s got to do what a man’s got to do.”

“Except I’m not a man.”

I think I threw him with that one.

“Well, when the going gets tough, the tough get going.”

“Fine. When do the tough stop for lunch?”

He had to think about that for a minute. We stopped. We stared. We contemplated our quandary while water babbled in the background… which is probably where we got the clever idea to go fishing in the stream that ran parallel to the path.

The stream in question was actually more of a river—too large for swimming in safely, though the water was clear. Fortunately, the sandy soil of the riverbank made it comfy to sit on for fishing.

“Here fishy, fishy, fishy,” I sang softly to myself as I collected a suitable tree branch from the forest floor and retrieved a fish-hook from my pack. I pulled out a few strands of my long, luxurious chestnut-colored hair and used them as line. Voilà! A fishing rod.

“Hey, you’re pretty good at this stuff,” said Gourry, sounding genuinely impressed.

“As a wise man once said, Gourry: You ain’t seen nothing yet.”

I set the rod aside and headed to the river’s edge. I moved a few rocks, dug around in the mud bank, and was rewarded with a handful of squirmy worms. I baited my hook and began to fish.

Here, fishy, fishy, fishy…

Nothing. Fishing is all about patience, you know.

Here, fishy, fishy, fishy…

Still nothing.

Here, stupid fishy, $#@!$#—!!!

Eventually, I did manage to catch quite a few fish, but it required a bit more sweet talk. Gourry built a fire; I cleaned and salted; and we cooked them on the spot. They were YUMMY! Frankly, I was so hungry at that point that they could have been breaded and fried in goblin blood, and I still would’ve eaten a dozen whole.

“Lina, you eat the tails?”

Don’t be such a little girl, Gourry.

“Waste not, want not,” I answered, figuring I owed him for that whole when-the-going-gets-tough-the-tough-get-going non-sense. He didn’t so much as smile. Why doesn’t anyone ever get my jokes? “Gourry, I can understand not eating the eyeballs if you’re squeamish, but why would you want to throw away the guts? That’s, like, a third of the weight of the fish.”

“I am not eating fish guts,” he replied resolutely.

“But they’re the tastiest paaart,” I teased, putting my lovely singing voice to good use. I scooped up some fish gut between my fingers and dangled it in his face before tossing it back and showing him how it was done. I slurped up the last bit through a big grin just for show.

“Lina, the stomach’s in the guts.”

“Yes it is, Gourry.”

“So, the worms you used as bait… you just ate them.”

I thought about that for a minute and then started spitting. I spat and spat and spat and rubbed my tongue on the grass, scraping it with my fingernails and concentrating hard on not throwing up.

“Okay, even if that is the case—”

“It is.”

“Yeah, I get that now! But even so, you shouldn’t point out things like that while someone’s eating.” Grrrrr.

We ate the rest of the fish without the guts. Gourry ate only his share. I checked. We sat there picking at the bones for a bit.

“I’m still hungry, Gourry.”

“Me, too,” he said. I reached for my rod to do more fishing, but I froze mid-motion. I sensed something ugly nearby.

“Goblins…” Gourry whispered under his breath, while we both tried to act nonchalant, “… about fourteen of them.”

Okey dokey.

I grabbed my fishing rod.

Remember when I said that there was nothing between the last town and the next but weeds and rocks? Change that to: weeds and rocks and a whole buttload of goblins. Thanks.

How much do you know about goblins? Let me give you the basics: Goblins are roughly humanoid, but stand only about chest high to the average adult human being. They’re generally—though not exclusively—nocturnal, kind of stupid, and prone to violence. They spook easily, so they tend to avoid human settlements, though they’ll happily poach cattle from the outskirts of towns and villages. In general, they’re not crazy about human beings, and I wouldn’t think that finding people wandering around their turf would fill them with glee. That’s the bad news. The good news is that they’re easy to make fun of.

I grasped my fishing hook with my left hand, narrowed my Incus, and began chanting a hunger spell of my own devising.

I’m not going to teach you the spell, so don’t even ask. I try not to use it; and if I taught it to you, you’d teach it to someone else and pretty soon there’d be no fish left in the sea! So, seriously, don’t even ask.

I’d just finished chanting when one of the goblins let loose a horrific yelp that must have been a war cry. The lot of them came screaming from the undergrowth, rusty spiked clubs and swords at the ready They were expecting us to run, of course.

“Shhh! Quiet!” I shouted in passable Goblin, and Gourry and I held our ground.

The goblins halted.

Taking advantage of the momentary opening, I lowered the fishhook under the surface of the water.

Here, fishy, fishy, fishy…

Silence.

The goblins muttered among themselves something along the lines of, “What’s up with the crazy red-headed broad?” They watched me carefully, trying to figure out what I was doing, but they didn’t attack.

And then… I got a bite.

“Aw, yeah!” I yawped, yanking both line and fish high out of the water. “Whoa! That’s a big one!” A huge fish danced in midair, whipping around the line and spraying us with river water. I took the fish off the line, also in midair; and it flopped on the ground before us.

That last bit, incidentally, was even more difficult than it sounds. Be impressed.

“Grab it!” I shouted in Goblin.

“Gii!” they responded.

“Gya gya, gukii!”

“Gyuge!”

Yes, well done.

The goblins danced around like they’d just won the lottery I kept catching fish, and they kept dancing. I had to bring in two dozen fish before I had them circled in as close as I wanted them.

I handed my rod over to the nearest oaf.

“Gi?”

“Sure. This one works real good. Wanna try it?”

“Gi… ?”

He tilted his head to one side and looked at me like my words made no sense. How rude! My Goblin may not be polished, but it’s not exactly a sophisticated language. I lowered the hook into the water for him and—he got a bite instantly!

“Giggi!”

His companions congratulated him and conveniently forgot all about Gourry and me. We crept quietly out of the area.

* * *

“You know some pretty crazy tricks,” said Gourry, and I had to smile at that one.

At nightfall, we waltzed into the dining hall of the next town’s single-story inn. The air was perfumed with the scent of ale and tobacco; but I was hungry again, and when they brought out meaty drumsticks, I quickly became oblivious to my surroundings. The drumsticks were really good. Mmmm…

I blinked when Gourry spoke, and the room snapped back into focus. Gourry was staring at me blankly from across the table.

What? I blinked again. The candle on the table flickered. I brought my cup to my lips and took a sip of juice. Some pretty crazy tricks? I took another bite from the drumstick in my left hand.

Gourry’s mouth was hanging open incredulously.

Ah, now I remember. “About earlier…”

Gourry’s incredulous expression advanced to who-is-this-little-girl-anyway.

What? What’s the big deal about a little fishing spell? Sheesh. Did he think I was entirely helpless?

“That was pretty basic magic,” I explained. “Not really worth going into, I promise.”

He grunted in admiration. “So… you’re some kind of sorceress, then?”

Gah!

Now it was my jaw’s turn to drop. “Some kind of sorceress? Yes, I am some kind of sorceress! What did you think?”

I’d like to explain that from the moment that Gourry first laid eyes on me, I have been dressed like SOME KIND OF SORCERESS. I wear trousers and long boots, which in fairness doesn’t indicate anything about my profession except, perhaps, that I am not a princess. However, I also wear a loose robe, cinched at the waist with a wide leather belt, a pair of leather gloves, and a bandana over my forehead. Thinly armored epaulets protect my shoulders, and my mantle stretches to my knees. And get this: Every item I have just described to you is embroidered in silver filament with magical symbols. I wear a silver necklace and silver bracelets. And, the short sword I carry on my left hip is embedded with an enchanted gemstone I made myself. I couldn’t look more like a sorceress if I wore a sticker on my chest that said “Hello, my name is LINA and I’m a SORCERESS!”

Did he seriously think I was some kind of fishmonger or a waitress at Le Café Sorcerie?

“Hmmm… I’m not really sure now that you ask. After all that business on the river, I guess I thought you might be some kind of fishmonger or maybe a waitress?”

Die, Gourry! DIE!

I buried my face in my soup dish.

Oh, hey…there’s still a little left in here.

“Relax,” Gourry said, “I’m just kidding. I didn’t think you were a fishmonger. I got you pretty good, though….”

“You sure did. I was going to kill you, but I got distracted by my soup.” I used a handkerchief to wipe the stew off my face as I spoke. He didn’t laugh. I probably should’ve explained that I, too, was kidding, but I’m not a very good sport. Let him wonder.

“So how good are you, anyway? Can you use a fireball? You look like you might be able to handle Black Magic.”

Sorcery, I should explain, is divided into three classes: White Magic, Black Magic, and Shamanic Magic. The latter makes use of the four elements (earth, water, fire, air) and the spirit world—it’s the mainstay of any sorcerer. My real specialty though is Black Magic, which isn’t as dastardly as it sounds—I use only the offensive spells, not the curses. It’s a common misconception that all offensive spells are Black Magic, but many of them are actually Shamanic Magic. The fireball that Gourry mentioned is classified as Shamanic Magic—and it’s a doozy!

“I look like I might be able to handle Black Magic? Is that how little you think of me?”

“No! It’s just, you seem like a pretty easygoing type.”

Riiiight.

“Well, whatever,” he sighed. “It looks like I’m going to see what you can do in just a second anyway.”

How’s that? I wondered. By the time I’d formed that thought, the door to the inn had been kicked open.

“That’s her,” someone growled.

I turned my head in the direction of the ruckus and locked eyes with the growler.

Aw, crap. He was pointing right at me. I was hoping I would turn around to find the grump behind the growl was actually gunning for some other unfortunate “her,” but the index finger in my face dashed my hopes.

You don’t suppose he saw Gourry’s hair and mistook him for a woman, do you? No such luck.

A parade of trolls soon filed in; and behind them, a mummy who appeared to be controlling the lot. Looking closer, I could see that he wasn’t an actual mummy, but a living person wrapped in bandages. Whoever he was, he was clearly a sorcerer.

“Oh my! I’m certain you have the wrong girl!” I gave him a two-fisted smile and tried to keep my eyes from focusing so I wouldn’t look too smart.

“My name is Sophia. I think you must be looking for—”

“Shut up! I’m not concerned about your name, I know your face! You’re the one who robbed us!”

Whoops. Yeah, you got me.

“Oh, was that bad? I’m sorry, guys. Maybe we can work something out… ?”

Gourry eyed me suspiciously.

“I’ll explain later,” I whispered. “First, we’d better—”

About then, I felt troll breath on my cheek.

Familiar with trolls? Quick refresher just in case: Trolls are about twice as large as humans, and they’re as strong as all get out. They’re also surprisingly agile, considering their immensity. The really important thing to remember about trolls, though, is that they’re gifted with rapid regeneration, which means anything less than an instant kill heals within seconds. And that means, of course, that the only way to kill them is with a single blow. Also worth mentioning: Fighting a troll with showy attack spells indoors is a good way to wreck an inn and wipe out your savings. Not that I speak from experience—just trust me on this one. It tends to be dangerous for bystanders as well.

“Have it your way,” I said as I rose from my chair. “Let’s take this outside.”

“No way.”

“Okay…”

Great. The innkeeper is going to hate me.

“Give us back what you stole, and we’ll be on our way.”

Oh, fat chance. “Not gonna happen. I don’t respond well to threats. Especially threats that come from thieving wizards.”

“Excuse me, but aren’t you a thieving sorceress?” Gourry was heckling me from the sidelines.

“Oh, stuff it. Stealing from thieves is fair play.” Sadly, my line of reasoning was failing to impress the bad guys who outnumbered us.

“Get them!” the mummy man commanded, and the trolls moved into action. I moved into action, too.

My foes were armed only with sharp claws and brute strength, but believe me, that was enough. Even though my clothes, as talismans, were charmed, those claws wouldn’t have any trouble slicing right into my guts. One swipe and I was troll feed.

The first and largest launched the initial attack, which I evaded. Using his own right hand as leverage, I swung backward in a half-somersault as the next troll drew near. With the momentum from that move, I slid between the legs of the troll coming toward me, hitting him in the crotch and grabbing onto one of his feet. I may not be able to beat a troll with acrobatics, hut I could throw him off balance for a moment, enabling me to use him as a shield, thus minimizing my enemy’s numbers advantage. It almost sounds like I planned it that way, doesn’t it?

I sensed bloodlust behind me, and the very next moment another troll sent his claws deep into my mantle.

Sorry, ugly, but the mantle’s all you get. I’d slipped it off my shoulder guards a fraction of a second before. I’m so good!

The troll had put too much force into his blow, which sent him stumbling to the floor. I stepped ever-so-lightly on his head as I made my way to my next opponent.

Things went on like this for a while, and I soon found myself next to Gourry. Only this time, I was doing battle and he was watching, like it was some kind of exhibition match!

“Welcome back.”

“Thanks. Did you miss me?” I huffed.

What did he think he was doing, sitting back and watching a poor, innocent girl take on a bunch of trolls?

Don’t argue with me. I can play the poor, innocent-girl card any time I like, thankyouverymuch. And anyway, his behavior was completely inexcusable!

The trolls remained undaunted. Probably because I hadn’t managed to do more than knock down a single one.

“You cheeky little—”

Well at least I’d accomplished something—I was getting on the mummy man’s nerves. Right on.

“Gourry! Could you make an effort to hurt those trolls?” I asked sharply.

“Sure but… uh… you do know that trolls regenerate, right?”

“Yes, I do! Don’t try to educate me. Just do it—quick!”

Well, if any wound will do no matter how small—”

“That’s fine, just do it!”

While Gourry and I had been strategizing, the trolls had closed the distance between them and us. Time to get serious, Gourry.

“All right! I’m on it,” he said, thrusting his right hand into his pocket and pulling out a fistful of nuts. Yes, nuts. The sorts of things that squirrels consider gourmet. I was wondering whether or not he was nuts, when…

“Argh!”

“Ack!”

Flicking his fingertips, Gourry had managed not only to penetrate the trolls’ hides with those small nuts, but to bury the squirrel feed deep into their flesh. He had propelled those nuts with a level of force that would’ve been more than sufficient to take down normal men.

“Interesting technique, kid,” chuckled the mummy man. “Too bad about the rapid regeneration, though…” But before mister mummy was finished feeling smug, the trolls cried out in unison. The tiny wounds Gourry had inflicted were expanding quickly.

“W-what’s happening?! What have you done?” shrieked the mummy man, thoroughly flustered.

The wounds expanded in all directions, ripping the trolls’ tubby tummies into pieces. When it was finally over, more than half their bodies were gone.

It looked pretty nasty. I’m glad it wasn’t right before supper.

The mummy man and the trolls who remained were thoroughly freaked out and appeared to have lost their appetite for fighting. They were whispering among themselves about the crazy new magic I’d just used to chop up their buddies. Fear of the unknown is a powerful weapon. I’ll let you in on a little secret: What I did to those trolls was a lot smarter than it was difficult. Think of it as a reversal of the White Magic healing spell, if you like.

Here’s the deal: A healing spell, as the name suggests, uses spirit power to accelerate the rate at which damage done to the physical body is repaired. By reversing it, I used the trolls’ own healing powers against them. Of course, this would also be at a highly accelerated rate. Remember, trolls have rapid regenerative abilities already. So, by reversing that ability, and amplifying it even further, the tiniest wound causes their bodies to self-destruct.

Thank you, thank you. Now, please hold your applause until the end of the show, folks.

And yes, since you’re wondering, that is indeed another original spell. Normally I wouldn’t use something that nasty in combat, but you can’t get away with just slowing trolls down.

If I hadn’t used it, I might’ve ended up losing more than just my breath.

The spell had worn off, but I’d figured the rest of the group would bolt at that point, anyway. Unfortunately, one last troll proved to be more stubborn than I’d expected. He locked eyes with me and charged. I drew my short sword from my hip and began to chant as he leapt toward me.

Luckily, I was quicker on my feet than he was.

Claw and sword sparked a second, then a third time. The troll left himself open for a moment, and…

“Aha!” I shouted, and my sword sunk deep into his belly.

He grinned.

Another public service announcement: A smiling troll is never a good sign. Now you know.

He had me right where he wanted me. His objective had been to expose his midsection so that I’d strike. Then, I’d be trapped. If I let go of my weapon, I’d be defenseless and dead meat. If I didn’t let go, I’d be trapped within my enemy’s reach, while he’d survive because of his regenerative powers.

But just as he was preparing to gloat, I was settling the fight.

“Lightning!” I called out, using my sword to conduct the Mono Volt spell. The troll’s torso split apart.

That’s what you get for showing off big guy.

The poor thing’s enormous frame thrashed about as it screamed out in pain and finally—mercifully—expired. There was a colossal THUD as each of his limbs simultaneously gave up the fight and crashed to the floor.

Next?

“No more playtime, kids.” I slapped my hands together in front of my chest, closed my eyes, and began to chant. As I slowly separated my palms, a blue-white ball of light appeared between them and grew brighter and brighter.

“F-f-fireballllll!” The mummy man’s eyes widened as he bellowed. “Run! Ruunnn!” He and the trolls who were left took off in a hurry, screaming like their pants were already on fire.

“Whew…” I let out a loud sigh of relief, still holding the ball of light.

“‘Whew’ nothing!” shouted little girly Gourry from across the room. “What are you going to do with that fireball?!” Apparently he, too, feared the power of the fireball spell and had made his way toward the exit.

The fireball is a notorious fire-attack spell used by sorcerers almost universally. The area where the ball of light falls is instantly engulfed in flames, exterminating anything that lives or breathes in the area. Though its destructive power varies from user to user, a direct hit will invariably take a human from “rare” to “well done” before the poor thing even knows what’s coming.

 “Oh, this… ?” I took a long look at what was between my palms and then gently lobbed it upward.

“Aahhhh!” everyone in the room cried out, and then: There was silence.

Gourry was the first to look up… timidly.

“Oh relax, will you? It’s not a fireball.” I smiled and pointed to the white ornament in the air above me. “It’s a lighting spell.” And I laughed and laughed. My goodness I’m a funny girl. I crack myself up.

“What are you going to do about all this?!” interjected the innkeeper, who didn’t find me amusing at all.

I knew this was coming.

The tables and chairs were all smashed up. Corpses were strewn about like peanut shells, and the air was perfumed with L’Eau de Troll Blood. There was indeed a lot of splatter. I mean, a lot. And thanks to the lighting spell, you couldn’t miss a drop of it. It was pretty gross, I guess. More slaughterhouse than tavern, it was not exactly the sort of ambiance people crave in a dining experience. Most of the customers had already relocated to the next inn down the street. The ones who’d stayed were weeping and rocking back and forth.

Heck, I couldn’t blame the guy. If it had been my inn, I’d have been pissed, too. Still, I’d just decimated a small army of trolls and wasn’t in the mood for a lecture, so I put on my best penitent face. In addition to sorcery, I’m an expert at looking cute.

“Gee, mister. I know my companion and I caused you a lot of trouble, but,” I lifted my chin and looked doe-eyed at the old man and whispered, “if we hadn’t, they would’ve killed us!” I slipped the hand that was behind my back out of my glove, and then into my pocket. Just as I expected, the old guy’s scowl was softening.

So far, so good!

“Perhaps…”I drew three gemstones from my pocket, but kept them concealed in my fist. “Perhaps you’ll accept these as an apology?” I grasped the old man’s wrist with one hand and emptied the gemstones into his palm with the other. He still couldn’t see what he was holding, though he must’ve guessed from how they felt. Nonetheless, I couldn’t allow him to avert his gaze. I kept his eyes fixed on mine and held his wrist in a gentle embrace. You can imagine the effect it was having on him.

“Please understand, I fear this meager offering is inadequate as an apology, but it’s the best I can do.” I bit my cheek so that my eyes would well up a little.

Finally, I relaxed my hold on his wrist. The owner glanced down into his palm, then closed it approvingly over what he’d seen there.

“Well, miss. Since you put it that way, what can I say? I’ll have one of my boys in to clean up this mess. Why don’t you just head back to your room and get some rest?”

Score!

Usually, when there’s trouble like that at an inn, you get run out of town immediately. I figured that was what was going to happen, and I was okay with it. If someone asks you to leave, I advise leaving. No point in staying where you’re not wanted, right? It’s not that I learned that one the hard way, but trust me, you’d do well to take my advice. On the other hand, forking over a little, um, token—like a gemstone, perhaps—sends the message that you’re genuinely sorry. It also implies that there might be more stones where those came from, and that the innkeeper would benefit from turning a blind eye to such innocuous eccentricities. That business with the doe eyes and the soft hands doesn’t hurt either.

I bowed my head humbly several times as Gourry and I backed away in the direction of our rooms.

Speaking of Gourry, guess who was pretty annoyed with me? He shot me a disapproving look as soon as we turned the first corner. It served me right, I suppose. I hadn’t been entirely honest with him after all, had I?

You didn’t have to answer so quickly.

“You’ve got balls,” he sighed. “I’ll say that for you.”

I was leaning with my hip against the bed as Gourry spoke. “I don’t think I understand,” I said, trying to play dumb.

He wasn’t buying it.

Then I realized something. “Gourry, what are you doing in here? This is my room!”

“You promised me an explanation, didn’t you?”

“Did I?”

“You did.”

Ah. Well, okay then. I had a few questions for him as well. Might as well get them all out of the way at the same time. “Okay, fair enough. But first, I have a question for you.”

“I’m an open book, little lady. Shoot.”

Not that little lady crap again.

“Okay, sit.”

Gourry grabbed the closest chair and straddled it. “I’m sitting.”

“Now, tell me this,” I said, leaning in and staring him squarely in the eye. “How do you feel about me?”

Silence.

Gotcha.

He nearly hyperventilated.

“Gourry, I’m kidding… just kidding.”

He let out a loud sigh like he’d just been spared the torture chamber.

“Aw jeez, Lina. That was downright cruel. I thought I was going to die there for a sec—”

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?”

Men.

“Seriously, Lina, what is it you want to know? I’ll tell you anything but my measurements—those are top secret.”

Ha ha. Don’t quit your day job, funnyman.

“How’d you know those guys were coming after me?”

“I didn’t know any such thing.”

Denying it was useless. “Hey, you said it. Right before those trolls barged in, you said, ‘It looks like I’m going to see what you can do in a second.’”

“Oh, that,” he answered, unfazed. “They were obviously after someone on the inside. I just guessed they were trying to get back something that had been stolen. Call it an educated guess.”

“What made you think it was me? There were at least a dozen people—”

“Hey listen, I hate to be the one to break this to you, but it wasn’t all that tough. I figured they had to be after you because you’d stuck your nose somewhere it didn’t belong. You seem to be the type who finds trouble.”

Bull’s eye.

What was I going to do, argue? I like to think I have better judgment than most people, but he was right. I do have a kind of genius for finding trouble. Big Sis used to say the same thing about me back home.

“That sounds like a reasonable line of thought?”

“Yeah,” I admitted.

“Any other questions?”

“No.”

“Okay, my turn. Exactly why were those guys after you?”

I let out a sigh. “It’s a long story.”

“I’m not going anywhere. Shoot.”

So, I told him the whole sordid story about how, after I’d seen those awful bandits robbing and killing innocent villagers;

I’d set out to avenge the villagers, exterminate the bandits, and return the stolen goods (minus a small fee to cover my expenses, of course). And that was why they were after me.

What?! Did you expect me to tell Gourry I attacked them because I was bored and broke. Fat chance. Anyway, it’s not like he’d have believed me anyway. He likes me. I just told the poor guy what he wanted to hear. Really, I was doing him a favor…. Don’t look at me like that!

When I finished my monologue, Gourry nodded heavily.

“I understand completely. That sort of thing happens all too often when people try to do the right thing.”

Tee hee. Hook, line, and sinker. He was buying it. Not just going along with it, but really buying it. It looked that way, anyway.

“Yeah, don’t I know it,” I said, and then I nudged the conversation in a different direction. “There’s something else that’s bothering me, though.”

“What’s that?”

“Those guys couldn’t have seen my face before they picked me out. And yet, they were definitely after me specifically. The one guy must have been a sorcerer.”

“Bandage Man?”

“Yeah, has to be. And they must’ve been expecting to catch me by surprise. They’re hurt now, but they’ve probably only pulled back until tomorrow. I don’t think we lost them.”

“You think he used magic to find you?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Magic users can do anything, huh?”

“No, not anything. There’s stuff that magic can’t do. For example, the mummy man must have put a magic mark on something before I took it. That’s probably how he tracked me. Without a beacon of some kind, even the best sorcerer can’t track people that easily.”

“Oh, I get it…” Gourry said, but he didn’t sound like he got it.

“Yep, you got it,” I played along. “Any other questions?”

“No, teacher.”

“Very funny. Then let’s wrap up this—”

Someone knocked.

We moved simultaneously to either side of the door. Gourry put his hand on the knob.

“Who is it?” I called.

“Someone who wishes to make a transaction. I will pay whatever price you name for an object that you possess,” said the voice on the other side of the door.

“You’ll pardon us if we say that sounds suspicious, won’t you?”

“Indeed. I don’t suppose that I would open the door if our roles were reversed,” responded the voice.

Uh… “So… you’re advising us not to let you in?” Why isn’t anything ever easy?

“I am merely being honest. I am also being honest when I say that I mean you no harm at this time.”

At this time? What the heck’s that supposed to mean? “So maybe you’ll change your mind after we let you in?”

“You needn’t be concerned, though I recognize that saying so may be useless. Perhaps it would be more persuasive to remind you that you do have a reliable bodyguard.”

My “bodyguard” and I looked at each other.

“Good point. All right, any funny stuff and I’m warning you, I’ll nail you with an attack spell on the spot.”

“Lina?! You’re not seriously going to let him in… ?” Gourry was flustered.

“It’ll be okay. I have a reliable bodyguard, remember?” I spoke softly and winked. I left my position by the door and walked to the center of the room.

“I’m opening the door. Come in nice and slow,” I warned. “Go ahead, Gourry. Open it.”

A moment later, Gourry did as I asked, and I got my first good look at the man who wanted to make me a deal.

A Hard Man is Good to Find

He certainly was a sight to behold. His entire body was covered in white. He wore a white mantle, a white robe, and a white hood. Everything was swathed in white, but his eyes. And there was someone with him.

“Great. It’s you.” My expression changed as I recognized the mummy man from earlier.

The pair entered the room slowly, the mummy man dragging his feet just enough to flatter me. Gourry closed the door behind them, and the mummy man’s entire body trembled as he glanced back over his shoulder.

The man in white, however, did not move a muscle.

They stopped in the very center of the room, halfway between Gourry and me.

“You two have met, then?”

“Oh yeah, we go way back. Why, just this afternoon we were painting the town red,” I said.

If such a thing is possible, the mummy blanched. The man in white lifted up a hand to keep him in his place.

“We’re always cutting up, aren’t we, my bandaged buddy?”

Guess not.

“My regrets,” said the guy in white. “This is my associate, Zolf. He is most loyal, if overzealous at times. I ask you to please forgive his actions.”

“Fine by me. I’ll just jack up the price,” I sneered. Just then, I noticed for the first time that the man in white was not entirely human. The light in the room wasn’t great, but I could still make out through his hood’s opening that the skin around his eyes was stone. I’d never seen anything like it before, and at first, I thought I was imagining it, but no… no, the guy’s face was made of stone.

Maybe he’s a golem? I considered it. But golems are created to be servile, and this dude’s eyes sparkled with the glint of free will. He was, without a doubt, his own sovereign.

“You are quite the businesswoman. Shall we commence with negotiations?”

“Sure. So, you want to buy an object…”

“I do indeed. One of the objects that you… uh… liberated from a certain band of thieves a short time ago.”

“Any object in particular?”

“I will not say.”

How’s that? I cocked an eyebrow. “You will not say?”

“I will not.”

“I believe we have hit our first bump in the road, then.”

“If I were to specify which object I desire, you might withhold that item from sale, merely out of curiosity, might you not? Here is what I propose: We agree in advance on a price for each object; then I take the one that I desire. I will pay the agreed-upon price at that time.”

“Clever. You know, I don’t remember seeing you at the bandit camp.”

“You did not. I am merely an admirer of the object in question.”

So he says.

“I had initially dispatched Zolf to search for it. He managed to infiltrate the bandit troupe and, using the tracking skills of the thieves, to locate and acquire the object. He too was intent on liberating it from the bandits at the first opportunity, but then…”

“I arrived.”

“Correct.”

“You used the bandits to do your dirty work.”

“I do not think you are in any position to judge.”

Touché. “Okay, I get the general idea. Let’s cut to the chase. The goods are: a statue, a sword, and various old coins. Certainly you’re not interested in the gemstones. They’re ordinary gemstones and not worth much, let alone ‘any price you name.’”

The man in white nodded slowly. “Correct.”

“So okay, let’s start with the blade…” I named my prices in succession.

The man in white was literally taken aback. He actually stepped backward, while the mummy man gawked with both his eyes and mouth wide open. Gourry just stared, dumbfounded (of course).

Men are really not good at this shopping thing.

He said he’d pay whatever price I named. So what’s with the shock?! I asked for a hundred times the street price, which is, granted, enough to buy about a castle and a half, but he said “whatever price you name!” If he’d meant, “whatever price you name WITHIN REASON,” he ought to have said so! Serves him right, if you ask me. Give me the chance to dream, and I’m going to dream big. That’s just the kind of gal I am.

“I came prepared to pay two or three times the street price,” the man in white spat out. “Not a hundred.”

I laughed. Because it was funny.

“This is not a game,” he said, sounding impatient.

“I suppose not. All right, just for you—bargain basement! I’ll cut my prices by half.”

“Half?!”

“Sure. Fifty-percent sale on stolen objects! Get ‘em while they’re hot, boys!” So to speak. Stolen goods. Hot. Get it?

“How dare you,” hissed the mummy man.

“Silence, Zolf!”

How dare I? It wasn’t that hard. I’m daring. It’s what I do.

“I don’t suppose you’ll accept installments, will you?” the mummy snarled under his breath.

“Not likely. I’m also not going to agree to any insulting conditions while I’m being treated like a little kid by a third-rate sorcerer who can’t tell the difference between a fireball and a lighting spell.”

“W-what?” The mummy man’s voice rose an entire octave when he realized that he’d been taken by a phony fireball. “You—! First of all…” He paused to take a deep breath before reading off the litany of my offenses, but the man in white intervened.

“Zolf! I asked you to be quiet!”

The mummy man tucked tail and whimpered at the rebuke.

“Then, as my final offer, perhaps you’ll consider joining us? In a year—no, half a year—you would be paid two, or perhaps as much as three times what you’ve asked for.”

“Hmmm,” I said, crossing my arms and scratching my chin in the universal gesture for “I’m thinking it over.”

“If I refuse your offer,” I asked at last, “you’ll declare me your enemy, won’t you?”

The man in white did not reply. He simply twitched his right eyebrow.

“I’m afraid I must decline your kind offer. I try to make a practice of avoiding your type at all costs. Call it woman’s intuition.”

“Hmph,” he hmphed.

“And intuition or not,” I said, eyes on the mummy, “I’d rather die than be associated with the likes of you.”

Zolf leaned forward and was about to say something he probably thought was both witty and vicious, but the man in white put a stop to that.

Both fear and ferocity met in the space between the man in white and me. The strength of this guy’s will was palpable. He was no ordinary being. We continued to glare at each other for several long moments.

He sighed loudly. “You are a stubborn woman. It seems our negotiations have reached an impasse.”

“That’s too bad,” I said, feigning disappointment.

“Yes. Yes it is. As agreed, I will retire for the evening. Then, as of sunrise tomorrow, I will no longer be honor-bound and will assail you with all my might. You and I will become enemies the moment you set foot outside this inn.”

I nodded almost imperceptibly to indicate my understanding.

He turned his back to me slowly. “Let’s go, Zolf.”

“B-but…”

The man continued toward the threshold, where Gourry held the door.

Zolf hesitated for a moment, then followed the man outside.

“The man in white turned to face us as he spoke. “Oh! I am called Zelgadiss.”

“I’ll remember that,” I replied, dead serious.

Gourry closed the door with a small thud. He waited until he was sure our guests were out of earshot before he finally spoke. “Did you seriously think you’d get your asking price?”

“Of course not! What did you expect me to do—sell the object to that bunch, no questions asked? Are you nuts?”

Gourry shook his head and sighed. He didn’t think I could tell, but even from across the room, I could see he was smiling.

* * *

“Funny how I never get tired of that beautiful sky.” I was lying faceup on a green field, staring up at the clear, clear blue. The sun was warm on my face; the earth was warm on my back. It felt really nice.

We’d finally reached the end of the path that cut through the forest.

The air around us was alive with the songs of birds and thick with the smell of blood.

“Yessiree. That sure is a beautiful sky”

“Hey, Lina…” came a voice from my left. He was lying face up on the field, too.

“Yes, Gourry?”

“I don’t think we should be taking it this easy. Especially while others are still fighting.”

Did I mention the heaps of berserker corpses on the ground behind Gourry and me? No? Well, there were heaps of berserker corpses on the ground behind Gourry and me.

“Yeah, sorry about that. I did fight, though… a little.” “Yeah, you did. I saw you. And I’m not begrudging you that. I’m just saying, you cast one attack spell—which was good—and then you said, ‘I’ll leave the rest to you,’ and that was it.”

“I guess it might seem like that’s what I did.”

“No, Lina, I assure you, that is what you did.” Using his sword like a cane, he rose slowly to his feet.

“I’d like to rest a little bit longer,” I said.

Gourry turned his head toward me, “We’ll be an easy target for them if we don’t get to the next town by day’s end. Get up, Lina. We’re going.”

He wasn’t being unreasonable, but I didn’t feel like tearing myself away from the clouds just yet. I was pretty exhausted from all the hard work I’d done earlier.

“Liiiinaaaa,” he crooned, like a father to his child. Hoping I’d get up and follow, he started to walk away at an unusually slow pace.

“Just five more minutes. It’s nice and warm here. It feels really good.”

“That’s enough!” he shouted and, turning, grabbed my mantle above my right shoulder, jerking me up.

“AAAHHHH!”

The pain was unbearable. My forehead struck the ground as I collapsed, clutching my right hip.

It’s an embarrassing thing to admit, but I have to confess that I’m not very good with pain. Placing my right hand over my wound and focusing my energy there, I managed to croak out a healing spell in an uneven vibrato. It felt like it took a hundred years, but finally the pain receded. A light wound would have healed very quickly, but this one? This one was probably going to take awhile.

“Lina?”

“Hmmm?” I remained as calm as I could under the circumstances. Not that I thought I was fooling anybody, but just for my own well-being.

“You’re hurt?”

I managed a small smile, making it look as feminine as I possibly could.

“It’s just gas, “ I cooed sweetly.

Gourry’s gaze dropped from my face down toward the hip

I was clutching.

“Ugh!” A sharp stab of pain made me yelp again. Gourry abruptly thrust a hand under my mantle and located my wound—it was on my right side.

The dampness he felt there made him pull back his hand in surprise and (knowing Gourry) disgust.

“You’re…” His voice was filled with alarm. “You’re bleeding!”

“Oh, I’m all right,” I said putting on a brave face. I didn’t mean it as a deception, though. The pain really was diminishing.

“You say you’re all right….”

“I am all right, Gourry, I promise. I cast a healing spell just a few minutes ago. I’ll be as good as new in a little bit….” “But—”

“Look, I’d rather have you think I’m lazy than asking me if I’m all right every ten seconds!”

“Sorry…”

“No! No, it’s okay. Just… just let me rest a little bit longer while I heal, all right?”

“Y-yeah… sure.” So Gourry sat in front of me, watching me heal. Which was just about as productive as watching water boil. I was glad he was concerned, but I don’t like people to see me when I’m weak. It makes me feel icky. And there’s nothing worse than feeling weak and icky.

“So you’ve been hurt all this time?” he asked. “You weren’t cloud-watching. You had your hands full trying to heal yourself. I’m so sorry I misunderstood….”

“I told you, Gourry, it’s okay.”

He grew silent. For a while, all we could hear was the wind. “They’re after that thing again,” I said, breaking the silence. “I looked into some stuff while I was alone last night.”

“What stuff?”

“Stuff like what kind of magical mark the mummy man could have placed on whichever object he wanted to track down.”

“Figure anything out?”

I shook my head.

“We’re talking about an Orihalcon goddess statue; a sharp, broad-bladed knife, and a bunch of collectible gold coins. None of these items has any sort of magic mark.”

“Well, what next… ?”

“I think we can rule out the coins. It seems pretty clear that he’s after one object, not a group of objects. That leaves the knife and the statue.”

“Should you be talking so much while you’re wounded?”

“What? Oh, I’m all right. I’m almost fully healed now.”

“Almost fully healed is not fully healed!”

Jeez! Thanks, dad. “I said I’m okay! So anyway, the magic that’s on the knife is probably there to keep it sharpened. It’s not a very high-quality spell. Still, it might carry the mark. On the other hand, the statue is made of Orihalcon, a rare metal that has the power to seal in magic.”

“So you can’t mark that?”

“Yes and no. If you went to the astral plane, you could track the spiritual energy the metal gives off…. Do you see where I’m going here?”

“No clue.”

“Suffice it to say, he could mark either one.”

“More important, why is he so emphatic about whatever it is he wants?”

“That’s just it! I can’t figure it out. Orihalcon is a valuable metal, and the knife’s the product of decent craftsmanship, but there’s nothing eye-popping about either object. But something is making him desperately want one of these items.”

“He said that in half a year he’d give you three times the price you demanded. So, it must be worth even more to him. Maybe the object is supposed to show him where some kind of buried treasure is hidden or something.”

I know what you’re thinking because I thought it, too. The buried-treasure concept sounds like something from a fairy tale, right? Agreed. But it also makes a lot of sense.

“You mean it might be some kind of key. That’s brilliant,” I replied.

“It is?” Gourry was the one who’d thought of it, but he didn’t seem overwhelmed with confidence in his own theory “A magic key! Yes, that could totally be it! I’ve heard of nobles using that kind of thing to safeguard their mansions. Let’s say there’s a fountain in a courtyard that opens up into a treasure vault when a certain young woman enters. In a case like that, the young woman is the key.”

“So this key… could be anything, magical or not, right?”

“Correct.”

“So, if the statue or the knife’s in the right place—”

“Something might happen. Or not.”

“I think I get the gist.”

“It’s not much of an idea, yet. However…” I rose to my feet somehow. Walking was still a bit difficult, but it wasn’t impossible.

“Whoa, there…”

“Jeez, I’m fine. I’m a little worn out, but not helpless.”

As Gourry stood, he eyed me as if I were made of glass.

“Ack!” I cried out as Gourry hoisted me in his arms. It didn’t hurt, it just startled me. “H-hey! Just what do you think you’re doing?!” My face turned the color of a poppy as he explained exactly what he thought he was doing.

“I’m going to carry you for a little while. Just until it’s easier for you to walk.”

“I’m FINE! And you’re tired, too, Gourry…”

“My grandma always made me promise to be nice to little girls,” he said with a wink.

If he’d left out the “little girl” part, I probably wouldn’t have hit him. Oh, well.

* * *

There they go again!

Footsteps. At first, I thought the floor creaking was my imagination. I was exhausted, after all. I’d lain awake most of the night, thinking things over, unable to sleep. What a lucky break that turned out to be! These footsteps weren’t being made by people who’d been out drinking and were finally dragging themselves back to their rooms. These were clearly the footsteps of people sneaking around in the middle of the night, very distinctly trying not to sound like people sneaking around in the middle of the night.

I slipped out of bed. Of course, I couldn’t be sure I was the one being snuck up on, but I figured the chances were pretty good so I might as well be prepared. The footsteps came closer.

I picked my mantle up off the floor.

What? Where did you think it would be? Don’t you know me better than that by now?!

I tucked the mantle under the bed covers, arranging it to look like a sleeping body. I made sure to move very, very quietly.

In no time at all, the footsteps stopped right outside my door. A second later, the door was kicked in and a handful of male silhouettes filed into the room. They headed straight for my bed. There was a terrific moment when they realized the lump under the covers wasn’t me. Silhouettes bumped into one another, jumped up and down, and cursed.

“Well, where the hell is she?!” one of them shouted in frustration.

“Right here, dummy!”

Did I just say that out loud? I knew the second it came out of my mouth that I’d made a big mistake.

Too late to do anything about it now, I thought as I rose to my feet. Besides, I wasn’t a complete idiot. The whole time I’d been sitting there, I’d been preparing. In fact, I’d just finished chanting my spell.

I held my hands together in front of my chest, and began, slowly, to separate my palms. A glittering ball of light appeared in the space between them. It wasn’t a lighting spell this time. This was the real deal: a fireball.

The silhouettes turned toward me, but it was too late. I tossed the fireball into the room and rushed out into the corridor, slamming the door shut behind me.

Of course I made extra sure to check the corridor for other assassins. You really don’t have faith in me, do you?

A fireball detonating behind closed doors normally has double its usual destructive force, FYI.

KA-BOOM!

It was a pretty serious explosion. My fireballs are first-rate, capable of melting steel with a direct hit.

“What the—! What was that?!” Gourry shouted as he rushed from his room. Since he was a mercenary, he and I had a lot in common. Just like me, Gourry was always armed and dressed for an emergency.

“Assassins!” That one word was enough to sum up the situation.

“Did you get ‘em?”

“Dunno!” I confessed. If the attack had come a day earlier, I wouldn’t have hesitated. But, sure enough, as soon as I’d spoken, the door of the room burst open and a flood of silhouettes poured out, accompanied by the stench of burning flesh.

“Dammit!”

Gourry drew and struck with his sword in a single motion. One of his opponents went down. Our newly visible foes were a human wielding a sword and wearing simple armor, with an army of trolls as backup. It didn’t look good.

Gourry took down his second opponent. Unfortunately, the trolls could tolerate both the burns all over their bodies and the cuts from Gourry’s sword, and still keep coming.

They didn’t even seem like average-ability trolls! These guys were polished.

His third opponent; however, was human, middle-aged, and stocky “So you’re with the girl, are you, boy?” the man said, locking swords with Gourry.

“Not bad yourself, pops?”

“That’s the product of experience.”

The two leapt back simultaneously. The first troll that Gourry had put down was getting back onto his feet. That’s regeneration for you. But it wasn’t the time to be admiring Nature’s wonders. We were in a terrible pickle.

It seemed inevitable that while Gourry and the old man were fighting, the trolls would turn their attention my way. Normally I wouldn’t be overly concerned, but right then, I didn’t have the strength to defend myself against an entire army of trolls. My magic was at its absolute weakest point.

The fight should’ve been over the moment Gourry rushed from his room. When he asked, “Did you get them?” I should have answered, “Of course,” and winked in that cute little way I do… and then we’d both have proceeded to put out the fire in my room. Cue the fat lady!

But, no. All I’d managed to do was singe their clothes and hair a bit. I didn’t have the strength to do any real magic.

Mind you, my sword skills aren’t bad at all. They might not be on Gourry’s level, but I do have confidence in my abilities… against human opponents. But, if you can’t use magic, the only way to kill a troll is to lop off its head in a single stroke.

I’d like to restate for the record that it wasn’t that I was helpless with a sword; it was just unlikely that I’d be able to separate a troll’s head from its body in one blow. I’d have to rely on Gourry to do the heavy-duty fighting while I used whatever magic I could against the enemy.

My best bet would be to trick them somehow.

The fact that the battlefield was a narrow inn corridor meant that the enemy couldn’t attack all at once. They’d have to come at us in waves.

That, at least, was the good news.

“Let’s get on with it!” hollered the old man, obviously ready to fight.

Just then, the trolls halted in their tracks. The old man suddenly seemed to be staring into space. There was no spark of life in his eyes at all. It had to be a puppetry spell.

Puppetry is not a particularly difficult technique. Trolls and other simple-minded creatures fall prey to it easily Ordinarily, a puppetry spell is used on a single opponent, allowing the sorcerer to use his or her opponent as a tool for a specified amount of time. However, using it on all the trolls and the old guy simultaneously was well beyond the capabilities of any average sorcerer. This particular practitioner had to possess great power.

“Uh, what’s with them?” Gourry inquired.

A lone priest beat me to the reply. “It is difficult to have a conversation in this inn when the other guests are causing such a ruckus,” he said.

The priest, unnoticed until now, had been standing quietly behind the trolls, near the exit. He seemed friendly enough. I couldn’t get a handle on his age. He looked both young and old at the same time, and I couldn’t see his eyes, as he kept both of them tightly shut.

Usually priests’ robes are white, possibly accented with violet or pale green, or a color associated with the primary deity in his or her congregation.

But this priest’s robes were a deep-red color. It was a blood red, or possibly poison red, I couldn’t be sure in the corridor’s dim light.

“To whom do we owe thanks for our rescue?” I asked.

“I am but another guest staying at the inn. I noticed something suspicious and decided to investigate the matter.”

“Sounds just like you, doesn’t he?” whispered Gourry. I ignored him completely. This was serious business.

“And you’ve put the rest of the guests under a sleeping spell?”

The man’s face indicated the affirmative. “What gave it away?”

“Pretty simple, really. No one’s come by to investigate all that racket we were making.”

“A crowd of curious bystanders would have made a difficult situation much worse—”

“So what’s all this got to do with you?” I interrupted.

The priest snapped his fingers. At his command, the trolls and their companion marched away in single file, as if under a sorcerer’s control.

 “I have seen this group before. They are minions of Zelgadiss.”

“You know him?”

“I do,” the priest nodded. “Zelgadiss seeks an object that you possess. His purpose is to revive the Dark Lord Shabranigdu.”

Well now, this was turning out to be serious business.

“Huh? What’s Sha… Shabra-whosiwhatsit?” Gourry asked, embarrassing me horribly.

“I’ll explain later,” I replied through gritted teeth. Kids these days. Yeesh.

“Wait. You’re not kidding about this?” he asked.

“No, Gourry. Not even the tiniest bit.” I turned to the priest. “Please, go on.

“I assure you, Zelgadiss is a deadly serious concern. He is a chimera—composed of man, golem, and blow demon. He is plotting to use the immense power of the Dark Lord to rend the world asunder.”

“That’s nuts. Why would he want to do something like that?” The priest turned his head. “I do not know. I am certain only that he is, and must be, our mutual enemy.”

Uh-huh. I have a bad feeling about this.

“Our mutual enemy? Wait… when did you become his enemy?”

“I am a priest. I cannot simply stand by while someone—or something—seeks to revive the Dark Lord.”

“Okay, that makes sense…” I mused aloud and folded my arms while Gourry looked on beside me, completely lost.

“So, you want to fight him together?”

“No, I could not make such a request.” The priest shook his head, obviously flustered. I have that effect on my elders.

“It is my guess that by chance you unknowingly came into possession of the key to releasing the Dark Lord, and he has made you his enemy as a result. Am I correct in making that assumption?”

“Something like that.”

“Perhaps it would be best if you gave me the key. No further involvement would be required of you.”

“Under these circumstances, wouldn’t it be best if I just destroyed the key—”

“No! You must not!” the priest shouted, disconcerted. “That is how the Dark Lord is to be revived.”

“But, if we give you the key, you’ll have to battle him all by yourself.”

“You need not be concerned for me. Certainly he is a difficult opponent, but I Rezo the Red Priest, have no intention of being defeated by the likes of Zelgadiss.”

The Red Priest? “You mean, you’re Rezo the Red Priest?” I asked, blushing.

“That is how I am called,” he said, smiling bitterly.

Rezo the Red Priest is famous the world over not only for his simple red vestments, but also for his good deeds. He is a master of spiritual powers equal to those of the High Priest of Saillune, and one of the Five Great Sages of our age; a master not only of the White Magic associated with priests, but of Shamanic Magic and Black Magic, as well. He is known to have only two faults: He was born completely blind in both eyes, and… oh, shoot. I know there was another one… oh, that’s it! His name makes him sound like a villain. He’s so famous, every five-year-old in the world knows who he is.

I felt a tugging on my mantle from behind. It was Gourry.

“So… he’s famous?”

You bonehead. “Yes! I’ll explain later.”

I regained my composure and continued my dialogue with the celebrated priest. “If that is the case, you must allow us to do battle by your side.”

“Well…”

“C’mon! After hearing all that, I can’t just say, ‘Sure, here you go. Good luck fighting the big, bad demons,’ now can I?”

“I appreciate your concern for my well-being, but I assure you…”

“No, no, no! It’s not that I doubt your abilities—that’s not it at all. But, if the Dark Lord is revived, no one will be safe. I realize my powers are nowhere equal to your own, but surely I c an assist Your Holiness in fulfilling your mission.”

The priest’s expression showed concern. “But…”

“Now, don’t go worrying about us either! I’m a pretty top-notch sorceress, and Gourry here’s a damn good swordsman. We won’t slow you down.”

The priest sighed heavily. “Very well, then. It seems I cannot turn away one so determined to serve the greater good.”

“Yes!”

“When the time comes, we shall go into battle together.”

“Right on!”

Gourry tugged on my mantle from behind repeatedly. I ignored him.

“In the meantime, I will safeguard the key,” said the priest.

Nuh-uh, you won’t. I shook my head.

The priest was visibly perturbed.

“They don t know we’ve joined forces. With all due respect, I think it’s best for Gourry and I to draw the enemy off while you support us from the shadows… Your Holiness.”

“But… that strategy puts you in great danger. I should be the decoy.”

“Noooo, if you have the key, they’ll know we’ve made contact. If they know that, then our plan will be exposed, and having a decoy will be pointless.”

“That may be the case, but…”

“Your Holiness, that is the case. Please trust me.”

I would understand if you started to think something fishy was going on about now Gourry sure seemed like he thought so.

“Very well! I will leave the key in your hands for the time being.” That said, the priest walked toward my room.

What the… ?!

He withdrew a small ball from his pocket and tossed it inside the open doorway. Then, he quietly chanted a spell. It seemed like a resurrection spell, but slightly different. Then, just as soon as he had started to chant, he stopped. I wasn’t even sure he had finished.

“I will return to my own room. As agreed, I will assist you from the shadows from tomorrow forward. Sleep well.” He started walking off before he’d even finished speaking.

“Well, your room looks totally normal.” Gourry said, as he peeked his head inside. “What on earth did he do?”

“Let me see…” I peeked into the room as well.

Wow! I was completely speechless.

As Gourry said, the room looked totally normal. Right down to the unmade bed and the cheap white curtains. Everything was exactly the same as it was before I tossed my fireball.

If the room had stayed crispy, I was in for a nasty lecture from the innkeeper the next morning. I hadn’t considered what I was going to do about that, but now I wouldn’t have to. Rezo the Red Priest had restored my room to its pre-firebomb condition. Thanks, Rezo!

“He’s good.” I whistled appreciately.

“Oh yeah? What’s so good about him?”

“Let’s save it for tomorrow. Right now, I need some shut-eye. I can’t be fighting bad guys without my beauty sleep.” As I spoke, I closed the door to my room and entered Gourry’s, curling up in a corner.

“Um… excuse me there, little lady.” Gourry called out to me. “You’re in my room…”

“I know.” I explained it as simply as I could: “If I go back to my room, there might be another attack.”

“How would being in my room—?”

“Two people are more reassuring than one.”

“Got it. You sleep on the bed. I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“I can’t do that. I’m imposing as it is.”

“… Fine, fine.”

Knowing he couldn’t sway me, Gourry lay down in a corner on the opposite end of the room.

“Er… why don’t you sleep in the bed?” I was the one asking this time.

“A man can’t sleep in a bed while a girl’s sleeping on the floor,” he announced. Clearly, this was the obvious truth.

I managed a strained smile.

“Well, suit yourself… good night, Gourry.”

“Night-night, little lady.”

Sigh. He really is a good guy. I just wish he wouldn’t treat me so much like a kid.

* * *

“So, you really don’t know anything about Ruby Eye Shabra-nigdu, the Dark Lord?” I asked him as we walked shoulder-to-shoulder down a sunlit path. The bit of forest around us looked exactly like the one we’d just hiked a few days before. Seeing the same trees over and over and over again was getting on my nerves. And since the road cut through the Great Kresaus Forest all the way to Atlas City, of course that meant we would be seeing a lot more of the same trees before we actually arrived in town. Oh, goody.

“Hmmm…” mumbled Gourry, trying to recall. “Nope, not a thing.”

The legend of Shabranigdu is downright famous, and not just among sorcerers, either! Everybody knows the story. Everybody except Gourry, apparently.

I let out a loud sigh. “All right. I’m only going to tell the story once, so listen carefully.”

“Listening.”

I sighed again, and doubted that Gourry was even capable of understanding the philosophical weight of what he was about to hear. I guessed not, but I went on with the story anyway, figuring that as long as we were stuck walking through monotonous rows of trees, I might as well make an effort to entertain myself.

“The universe comprises more worlds than just the one in which we live. A very, very long time ago, a countless number of staves were thrust up into the Sea of Chaos and around each stave there formed a world, both flat and round. Imagine the earth as a pie with a stick thrust into it from below. Like that! And one of those worlds is the one we’re living in right here and now.”

I pointed at the ground, just in case “here and now” was a tough concept for Gourry to grasp. While this theory represents the prevailing view among sorcerers even today, I was conveying it in a nontraditional way. If I hadn’t, I’m certain it would have flown in one blond-curl-covered ear and right out the other.

“In ancient times, across the many worlds, a great war waged between two great races. One was the Gods, the other the Demon race, Mazoku. The Gods were protectors of the worlds, while the Demons sought to destroy the worlds by seizing the staves on which they were supported.” Lina proceeded, with a deep breath, “On some worlds, the Gods would win—bringing peace. On other worlds, the Demons would win—and the worlds would be destroyed. This war continues to this day, on some of those worlds.

“On our world,” resumed Lina, “the Dark Lord Ruby Eye Shabranigdu; and the God, Flare Dragon Ceipheed, who is also known as the Dragon God, fought for domination. Their battle continued for thousands of years, until finally, the Dragon God split the Dark Lord’s body into seven pieces and sealed up each piece separately across the world.”

“So the Gods won?” Gourry guessed.

I shook my head. “All the Dragon God did was seal the remnants of the Dark Lord. He didn’t destroy them.”

“But still, the Mazoku’s body was cut into pieces, right?”

“That’s not enough to kill a Dark Lord. Anyway, once the remnants of the Dark Lord were sealed, the Dragon God sank into the Sea of Chaos, his power exhausted.”

“He needed a nap… ?”

“It wasn’t a nap! Fearing the eventual revival of the Dark Lord, the Dragon God used the last of his power to divide himself into four different dragon lords, each occupying their respective elements of earth, air, fire, and water. These various dragon lords would protect the four cardinal points—east, west, north, and south. It’s said that division took place about five thousand years ago.

“About one thousand years ago, the Dragon God’s fear was realized. One of the seven pieces of Shabranigdu was restored by a human whose mind and body had been taken over by the Dark Lord in an effort to revive himself.

“When the Dark Lord invaded the north, fighting through the water dragon lord’s well-prepared traps, he prevailed, destroying the water dragon lord in the process. However, his own body became bound to the earth as a result, and he was no longer able to move.”

“Well that didn’t get either of them anywhere,” interjected Gourry.

“It happened because they were practically equal in power,” I explained. “Anyway, that effort destroyed the balance that kept peace in the world, which is what, in turn, made the dark creatures appear.”

“Huh, no kidding?” Gourry seemed pretty impressed. “Well,” I clarified, “whether the myth about the origin of the world is literally true or false, something named Shabranigdu, calling itself the Dark Lord and possessing immense power, existed in this area oh-so-many years ago. And something else had similarly existed in the lands to the north.”

“So…” Gourry paused, putting the pieces together. “That Zel-what’s-his-name guy in white wants to put the seven pieces together and bring this Dark Lord back again?”

“Precisely Assuming what Rezo the Red Priest said is true, that is.”

“Now that you mention it,” Gourry said in a voice approximating a whisper. (I do pride myself on having excellent hearing, remember.) “You spoke pretty highly of that Rezo guy to his face,” he noted, “but I didn’t get the impression you trusted him.”

Bingo, Gourry.

“It’s all a matter of perspective, I suppose…” I spoke in a low voice as well. “How do we know this guy is the real Rezo? Rezo is a living legend, but no one’s reported seeing him in person for at least a decade.”

“So you think one of the bad guys might be calling himself Rezo, just to get close to us?”

“Could be.”

“How do you know I am who I say I am, Lina? You seem to trust me.”

“You think I trust you?” I teased.

“Hey, that’s harsh!” Gourry complained.

“I’m kidding. You don’t look like a guy with ulterior motives.”

“Thanks, little lady,” Gourry said like he was patting a puppy on its head.

Way to ruin a moment, pal. Again!! “Gourry, you really have to stop treating me like I’m a kid,” I pleaded. Honestly, my biggest fear was that I was actually starting to get used to it!

“You keep saying that, but how old are you, anyway?”

“Twenty-five.”

Gourry turned beet red.

“I’m kidding! I’m actually fifteen.”

“Whew, you almost gave me a heart attack there. Ah, so you’re fifteen. You are still a kid, see?”

“What?! Well, I’m… I’m not exactly an adult, but I’m not a little kid, either.”

“Tough age to be, huh?”

“What exactly is that supposed to mean? Look, just… whatever. Let’s forget about it, all right?”

I took a deep breath and tried to return my voice to something resembling a normal tone. “I’m not going to be able to use magic for the next few days. So, you’re going to have to do most of the fighting in the meantime, okay? I’ll help out however I can.”

“You can’t use magic?” He was caught off guard, for sure, but he wasn’t as shocked as I was expecting.

I nodded slowly.

“Oh…” Gourry said, deep in thought. “That time of the month?”

“Gourry!” I was blushing deeply.

“What?” He looked me right in the eyes and repeated, “Well? Is it?”

I averted my gaze. “What do you know about ‘that time of the month’?”

As hard as it is to imagine, women with powers have an even worse time during their period than those who don’t. For two or three days during that time, the powers of sorceresses, priestesses, and shrine maidens weaken to the point where they’re unable to use magic effectively. FYI: The old wives’ tale claiming that a sorceress, who loses her virginity during her period, will become an ordinary, non-magical woman is a myth. My real problem was much simpler, though: My magic powers would remain very low for the next day or so; there-fore, if we were attacked, which we most certainly would be…

Oh, never mind all that. My real problem was how to get over the fact that Gourry, who seemed to have the strength of an ogre and the intellect of a jellyfish (I think that’s a fair assessment), figured out that “I can’t use magic” meant “It’s that time of the month”!

“It’s not a big deal,” he said. Of course it wasn’t a big deal— to him! It was a huge, embarrassing deal to me.

“When I was a kid, about five years old or so,” he went on, “there was this old fortuneteller woman who lived near us. She closed her shop for a few days every month like clockwork. When I asked her why, she smiled and said, ‘It’s that time of the month.’ I figured out that women can’t use magic during that time of the month, but I’ve never really been clear on how exactly they know when it’s the right time of the month to be that time of the month. So what’s the story, Lina? Can you explain it to me?”

Unbelievable! Clearly, I’d been wrong about all that “nice guy” nonsense. Gourry was obviously a horrible cretin who got his jollies by making fun of vulnerable young women. Jerk!

“Whoops! Enough playtime.” Gourry’s demeanor abruptly turned serious. “Looks like we have a problem, little lady”

I stopped walking. Dense forest covered our right flank. There was a large clearing to our left. Directly in front of us, however, stood a man resolutely blocking our way. He wore an overcoat and appeared to be around twenty-two. He was also fairly good-looking, if you happen to have a thing for guys with dark-blue stony skin and silvery, metallic hair. (You never know, you might.) He held a broadsword in both hands.

I realized then who he was.

“So, Mr. Zeligaldiss” Gourry spoke first. The big boss finally shows his face….”

Um. Gourry… ? “I think it’s Zelgedes, isn’t it?”

“ZELGADISS!” the man shouted, obviously annoyed.

Don’t you hate it when people get your name wrong? You’d be shocked to hear the many ways that people can screw up ‘Lina Inverse.’ Seriously, the mind reels.

Gourry said nothing.

I said nothing.

Zelgadiss heard us say nothing and said nothing in reply.

The tension hung in the air, thick as gravy. Lumpy, disagreeable gravy.

Someone had to say something! “That’s what I said!” I blurted out. “Zelgadiss!”

“M-me too…” added Gourry, unconvincingly.

My name is not important,” Zelgadiss shouted back. I wasn’t buying it. He seemed pretty pissed. “I have come for the object. If you still refuse to listen to reason, you will leave me no choice but to take it by force. Choose carefully, Miss Sophia.”

Who…?

Gourry and I each looked around and over our shoulder, just in case Miss Sophia was hiding behind a bush.

“Ooooh!” We both figured it out at the same time. There was no Miss Sophia. That was the name I’d given to Zolf, the mummy fellow, that night at the inn. He must have thought I’d given him my actual name, which he then gave his boss. Dumb as he looks, that guy.

“I’m called Lina!“ I shouted.

“What?” Zelgadiss’ voice was sounding progressively more distraught.

“Liinaa! Sophia was an alias I gave to that Zolf guy,” I explained.

Zelgadiss didn’t react at all. We’d succeeded in our strategy of throwing our opponent off balance using only the weapon of incredibly boring repartee. Cool.

Oh, you laugh, but every good warrior knows half the battle is fought in the mind. It’s a fact. You can look it up.

“Who cares what your name is?” a second voice queried. Whoever the speaker was, he was right behind us. I turned around very slowly and found myself face-to-body hair with… a werewolf!

Or… possibly not a werewolf. He might have been half wolf and half troll; it was tough to tell. Anyway, if the term werewolf didn’t technically apply, then try beast man. Or, dork, though that’s not a technical term, strictly speaking. Regardless, the dude had the head of a wolf and the body of a man. He carried a large scimitar over his shoulder, and he was wearing a really dweeby-looking suit of leather armor. Heh, heh.

“So boss, we just need the goddess statue and that’s it, right?” asked the were-dweeb.

“Dilgear!” Zelgadiss snapped.

Uh oh, you’ve done it now, Dilgear.

Dilgear the dork-wolf took a moment to put together just exactly how he’d screwed up. “Oh… oops! Sorry, boss. We were supposed to call it ‘the object’ around them, huh? Well, it don’t really matter, since I was figuring on killing them anyways.”

I took a step forward, insulted. “Uh, excuse me!” I shouted. “We can hear you, you know. And frankly, I don’t think you know who you’re dealing with. You’re not even in my league, Fido.”

Dilgear narrowed his eyes in my direction.

“You have an awfully big mouth for such a little lady,” he harked. “Let’s see what’cha got!”

“Fine. But a two-on-two fight’s not going to be interesting enough for us with you clowns,” I said, “One-on-two’s plenty for the likes of you. Go ahead, Gourry—get ‘em!”

“What?!” He looked at me like I’d signed him up for suicide duty, which, if you ask me was seriously overestimating Dilgear’s abilities. “W-wait just a second, little lady!”

Dammit, Gourry! I told you you’d have to do the fighting….

“What’s this one-on-two nonsense, anyway?” a third voice piped up. This time it was a voice I’d heard before. “Are you trying to leave me out of the fun?”

I knew it!

The old man, who’d attacked my room with trolls the previous night, appeared and stood beside Zelgadiss. This time he was equipped with a formidable halberd. It was so impressive, in fact, that I found myself wondering just where he did his halberd shopping. I decided, sadly, that would be too weird a thing to ask on the battlefield.

“Hey, three against one isn’t fair!” I exclaimed instead.

“Yeah!” added Gourry, witty as usual.

“I don’t know what you did to us last night, but I’m pretty sure it won’t work today,” said the old man.

He was right. We were at a serious disadvantage. Our chances for escape, let alone victory, were looking pretty slim. I had to think of something.

“Enough waiting! Let’s go!” Zelgadiss moved. Thrusting his right hand out in front of him, he formed a dozen or so Flare Arrows out of the ether.

Flare Arrows! Damn.

Gourry and I leapt for cover, but a moment later the Flare Arrows were striking and exploding between us, filling the air with fire and smoke. We lost sight of each other.

Oh, crap. We’re separated. Not good…

Across the flames, I could hear the high-pitched screech of clashing metal. I figured it was Gourry crossing blades with the enemy. I figured one of the swords for Gourry, but I couldn’t make out his opponent through the haze.

“Gourry!” I yelled in the direction where I heard the sc reeching sound. I caught the glint of someone’s sword. Something whizzed by and barely missed me.

“Ah!” I leapt and drew the sword from my hip.

“Let us see—” In the midst of the weakening flames, a form was becoming visible before me.”—how good you really are!”

“Zelgadiss!”

“Haa!” Zelgadiss slashed. I parried.

“Gii!” I couldn’t see. I lost my balance and nearly dropped my blade.

Zelgadiss was a real pro. His every blow displayed ample speed and power. My strength wasn’t going to hold up against him for long.

Right now; there is no way I can beat him.

I figured I had no choice but to run. I spun around and sprinted into the woods. Zelgadiss would follow me for sure. I planned to lose him in the forest, then get back to the action and support Gourry. That was Plan A, anyway. Too bad there wasn’t a Plan B.

Zelgadiss did pursue me into the forest. That much went as I’d hoped. But once in the forest, he overtook me in an instant. Less than a second inside the trees, I felt a knee hit me hard in the gut.

The counter I attempted with my sword was laughable; I swung and hit nothing but air.

My back slammed into a tree. For a moment, I couldn’t breathe.

“Don’t you know you’re not supposed to,” I stopped for a moment to cough up blood, before continuing, “hit girls?” I was down, but not out.

Okay, I was very nearly out. But I was holding on for the time being, trying to get a fix on the direction of my enemy.

“If you’d handed the object over when I requested it, I wouldn’t have had to resort to this nastiness!” he sneered.

His voice gave me a fix on his general location, if not his exact position. I ran in the opposite direction. Zelgadiss pursued.

“Light!” I shouted, lobbing a feeble sphere in his direction. For no other reason than dumb luck, I scored a direct hit.

“Guaahh!” he shrieked. It wasn’t nearly enough to beat him, but it did distract him for a moment.

In my condition, I could manage a lighting spell, but a fireball was out of the question.

I fled, tucked tail, and ran like my life depended on it, because, well, my life depended on it. I didn’t even entertain the notion of mounting a counterattack. I doubted my sword could penetrate stone skin, anyway.

I sped through the woods to the shore of a small lake. I was trapped and exposed. In a panic, I turned back toward the shelter of the forest.

Zelgadiss stood between safety and me.

There was nowhere else to go. I began running along the shore.

“You won’t escape!” he taunted, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw him toss something at me.

I tried moving to my left without turning around. But… I couldn’t. Looking back, I saw the metal blade that Zelgadiss had tossed: pinned to the ground, straight through my shadow.

A Shadow Bind! It was a simple but effective technique used to bind an opponent’s movements from the astral plane.

Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no!

I tugged at the blade, but it wouldn’t budge. Think, Lina. Think!

I know! I chanted a lighting spell and suspended the sphere directly over the shadow Once I’d eliminated my shadow, my body could move freely again!

Too late! I turned to find myself face-to-face with Zelgadiss.

[therainroguefanfiction]

🔥 ℝise Ⱥbove I̾t ◈ Chapter 018 [Calming Peppermint]

📑 Table of Contents | ◂Backward

Word Count: 3,126

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〈“Did you think that I would surrender easily? That just like that, you were gettin’ rid of me? Is that the way you saw it all go down? I don’t think so.” Simple Plan, “Last One Standing”〉

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

The defeated villains were beginning to stir and decided to try and stop Toshi, but he easily took them down, heading straight toward the broken and battered Aizawa. I kneeled down, looking at the hole in my skin; I could see the muscle tissue.

Toshi turned to us and in the blink of an eye, I felt my body being lifted off the ground. A second later, he put us all down on the ground a safe distance from the two villains. “Everybody, back to the entrance. And take Aizawa with you, he doesn’t have much time!”

I had never heard his voice so full of anger before. I couldn’t tell if it was because of the villains or anger toward himself for not being here. Probably a bit of both.

“Y-Yes, sir!”

“Ribbit!”

“You saved us, All Might…”

I helped lift Aizawa onto Izuku’s back, the perverted grape holding up his feet up off the ground.

“All Might, you can’t. That brain villain took One for – uh, I smashed him and it didn’t break my arm this time, but he wasn’t fazed at all! He’s too strong!”

“Young Midoriya!” Toshi turned around with a wide smile, a bit forced, in my opinion, and flashed him a peace sign. “I got this!” This reassured the three and they started toward the entrance, but I stayed put. “You, too, young Jen.”

I scoffed. “Not even on a taco’s life, mate.”

“Now is not the time to be stubborn,”

I grinned, squatting down with my hand between my legs to steady myself. “Take the stage, Toshi. I think they’re getting impatient.”

He heaved a deep sigh before turning around and rushing at the big guy, fist poised for attack. “Carolina… SMASH!”

Despite taking the full brunt of the attack, that fuckin’ bird brain wasn’t even fazed by the attack. He tried to grab Toshi but he bent backward to dodge before punching him again. Punch after punch after punch, none of it fazed this fucker.

“Doesn’t even matter where I punch you, does it?”

“That’s because Nomu here has shock absorption, All Might. The only way you’re going to hurt him is to slowly gouge out his flesh. Of course, I don’t think he’ll sit back and let you do that. You’ve finally met your match!”

God, that blue-haired prick is really annoying.

“Thanks for telling me how to beat him!” Toshi grabbed the thing around the waist. “All I have to do is wear him down, then it’s on to you!” He performed a suplex on the thing, slamming his head into the ground. Dust filled the area, a strong gust of wind nearly knocking me back onto my ass.

The smoke cleared and my eyes widened.

“Oh, come on, what kind of cheap move was that?”

That goddamn warp gate! He opened up a portal before the attack, allowing Nomu to appear from the ground under Toshi, his fingers digging into his sides. I could see the blood soaking his white dress shirt.

“Nice! You were trying to bury him in the concrete so he couldn’t move around anymore. Sorry, that won’t work. Nomu’s as strong as you are, that won’t stop him. Nice work, Kurogiri, we’ve got him just where we want him now.”

Toshi let go of Nomu’s waist, trying to pry his grip from his waist. Should I try and help? But my flames do no damage to that thing, and I risk hurting Toshi in the process. Shit.

“Kurogiri,”

His golden eyes narrowed as his portal started to shrink. “Normally, I wouldn’t want blood and viscera flooding the insides of my warp gates, but I’ll make an exception for a hero as great as you. Since you’re too fast to see with the human eye, Nomu had to restrain you. And once he’s pulled your body halfway through, I’ll squeeze the gate shut! I’m going to enjoy tearing you to pieces!”

My blood started to boil as my quirk activated, but before I could act, a green blur rushed past me.

“I’m coming!” Izuku was rushing toward Toshi.

Dumbass!

The warp appeared in front of him and I sprung forward. My arm wrapped around his waist just as Bakugo appeared, setting off an explosion right in our face. “Get the hell out of my way, Deku! Bitch!”

I grunted, shoving Izuku behind me as Bakugo grabbed the metal piece hidden within the shadow body, pinning him to the ground. The temperature around us dropped, sending a chill down my spine as a stream of ice shot toward Nomu, stopping just before it touched Toshi. What amazing control.

“One of your poorly trained thugs told me you’re here because you think you can kill All Might.”

That goddamn Peppermint. Why do I always feel so calm when his voice reaches my ears? It makes no goddamn sense! What makes this brat so special? I shook my head. No, stay focused, dumbass. This ain’t over yet.

With Nomu frozen, Toshi was able to break free from his grip. A flash of red went straight for Tomura, but the villain dodged, jumping backward. “Man, that was gonna be so cool.”

“Guess I found your body that time, you smoky bastard!” Bakugo grinned.

“The symbol of peace will not be defeated by delinquents like you,” Peppermint announced.

“Kacchan… everyone…” Izuku looked ready to start crying.

I stepped forward, making sure I was standing between Tomura and the boys.

“Kurogiri… how could you let this brat get the best of you? You’ve gotten us into a real jam, here…”

“Heh, you got careless, ya dumb villain! It wasn’t hard to figure you out! Only certain parts of you turn into that smoking warp gate. You use that mist to hide your actual body as a kind of distraction. Thinking that made you safe. That’s why we missed… but if you didn’t have a body, you wouldn’t be wearing this neck armor, right?! You’re not immune to physical attacks if they’re well aimed!”

I glanced back at him. This kid is pretty smart. “Don’t get over-confident, Bakugo.”

“Don’t tell me what to do, bitch! And you – don’t move!” Small explosions came from behind me. “You try anything funny and I’ll blow your ass up so bad they’ll be piecing you back together for weeks!”

My lips twitched up at that. I like this kid’s style.

“That doesn’t sound very heroic…” Red sweatdropped.

“Nomu,”

At this simple command, the creature pulled its body through the gate, its frozen limbs breaking and falling off.

“How is that thing still moving? He’s all messed up!”

I took a defensive stance, hands heating up.

“Stay back, everybody!” Toshi ordered.

Wait… are his limbs regenerating?! Is this bitch Deadpool’s ugly ass cousin?

“What is this? I thought you said his power was shock absorption!” Toshi took a fighting stance, waiting for the enemy’s next move.

“I didn’t say that was his only quirk. He also has super regeneration. Nomu has been modified to take you on even at one hundred percent of your power. He’s basically a highly efficient punching bag that hits back.”

Modified? Like a human experiment? What the fuck…

“First, we need to free our method of escape. Get ’em, Nomu!”

“Bakugo!” I screamed, turning my body, but Nomu was a lot faster than me.

“Jen!” Toshi screamed my name as he turned and I knew what he wanted.

“I got ’em!” I ignored the pain surging through me, focusing my mind on the spot directly beside the blonde. Toshi was too fast for me to see, but just as I appeared in that spot, Bakugo’s body slammed into mine, making me slide backward. His elbow hit my ribs and I bit back a string of curses, tasting blood on my tongue. The force of Nomu slamming into Toshi created a huge gust of wind. I had to dig my heels into the ground to stay upright, my arms tightening around the boy’s waist.

“Ugh, such force… Kacchan!”

“Stop screaming,” I muttered, shoving the blonde away from me, spitting out the blood onto the ground. Man, that is not a good taste, especially on an empty stomach.

Peppermint sent me a look similar to worry, but I looked away from him, wiping my mouth.

“Woah, that’s awesome! You dodged him!”

“Shut up. No, I didn’t, ya damn nerd.”

“Then how’d you get over here?” Red asked.

“Ya’ll can’t seriously be this fucking dumb,” I muttered.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Peppermint snapped his eyes to the clearing smoke where Toshi stood, coughing. “All Might threw him out of the way, and Winchester caught him.”

“These are kids and you didn’t hold back?” Toshi was sounding angry again.

“I didn’t have much choice. He was threatening my companion. Besides, these kids are no angels! The plain-looking one, he tried to kill me with a maxed out punch. What kind of hero does something like that? You think you can get away with being as violent as you want if you say it’s for the sake of others. Well, you know what, All Might? That pisses me off!”

“Will you shut the fuck up already?” I growled, taking a step forward. “You came here and challenged us and then you wanna talk about violence? You’re whining and bitching like a little kid that got his fucking toy stolen. Grow the fuck up, Tomura!”

“Shut your mouth, Jen Winchester.” He glared at me. “I’ll deal with you after I get done with All Might. Wait your turn.”

“Suck my dick, you blue-haired freak!”

“How vulgar. You may look like your mother, but you certainly didn’t get her personality.” He grinned widely and I felt a presence appear behind me. I turned my body just as Golem snatched the dagger from my waist, slashing the tip of the blade across my stomach and chest in one fluid motion.

“Jen!” Izuku cried, but I lifted my hand, raising a line of fire between them and me.

“Mind your own fuckin’ business, Izuku!” I glared at Golem. “I’ve had about enough of your ugly ass fuckin’ face!” One hand grabbed the wrist holding the dagger while the other hand grabbed his face, my hand engulfed in flame. He screamed in pain, clawing at my wrist. My body beat in time with my heart and I felt my control starting to slip. I’ve been in this form for too long and with my injuries, I can’t hold on much longer. Damn it all to hell!

I cried out, slamming the back of his head against the ground. It didn’t make a crater like Nomu’s had, but the cement still split from the force.

I stood up on shaky legs, my skin burning as I gasped in air. “Oi… Peppermint.”

He blinked, tilting his head. “Me?”

Yes you, you fuckin’ – “Listen carefully. If I lose control… of my quirk. You gotta… you gotta freeze my body, understand?”

“But -”

“Just fucking do it!”

He chewed on his lip for a moment before slowly nodding. “Okay… I will.”

“Good,” Because I don’t think I can hold on much longer. Is this what it feels like when Toshi is fighting to keep his muscled form up?

“Jen-san…” Izuku stepped closer to the fire, which had lowered considerably.

Tomura clicked his tongue. “See what I mean? She just burned the face off of my companion. Why do people get to decide that some violent acts are ‘heroic’ and others are ‘villainous’? Casting judgment as to what’s good and what’s evil. You think you’re the symbol of peace? You’re just another government-sponsored instrument of violence. And violence always breeds more violence. I’ll make sure the world understands that once you’re dead.”

“You’re nothing but a lunatic. Criminals like you always try to make your actions sound noble, but admit it – you’re only doing this because you like it. Isn’t that right?” Toshi responded.

“He’s got me figured out.”

“We’ve got them outnumbered,” Peppermint commented.

“And Kacchan found the mist guy’s weakness.”

“These dudes may act really tough, but we can take ’em all down now with All Might’s help. Heh, let’s do this!”

I glanced back at them with a scowl. “Are you guys mentally stunted or just suicidal? Sorry, but you four ain’t nowhere near strong enough to handle those three villains. You’ll just get in the way.”

“That’s not fair, Winchester! You’re on the same level as us!” Red complained.

“No, she’s stronger than we are,” Peppermint spoke up, his cold eyes meeting mine.

“Don’t attack! Get out of here!” Toshi ordered, glancing back at them.

“You would’ve been in trouble earlier if it weren’t for me, remember? You need our help.” His cold gaze snapped to Toshi.

“I thank you for your assistance, but this is different! It’s gonna be alright. Just sit back and watch a pro at work.”

Toshi… your voice has changed. You sound stronger, more full of life. But how? You’re hurt, and I know you’re struggling to maintain that form right now. What’s your secret? How do you push so goddamn hard and keep going above and beyond? I don’t get it.

“But you’re too hurt… you’re bleeding and you’re almost out of tim -” Izuku caught himself, quickly glancing at the three boys.

Toshi gave him a thumbs up and a signature grin that looked like he just stepped out of Crest White Strips commercial. He turned to me. “Jen, are you okay?”

I let out a slow breath, mindful of my ribs as I squatted down, placing my palms flat on the ground between my legs. “I’m gonna be honest with you here, Tosh, I don’t know how much longer I got in this form.” Slow, steady breaths. Think of happy thoughts, Jen. Like tacos, yeah tacos are gre – my stomach growled painfully and I blanched. Abort, abort, don’t think of tacos!

“I believe in you, young Jen! Just give me a little more time.” He paused as he turned toward the villains. “When this is all over, I will lift the taco ban.”

“Taco ban? What’s that?” Red whispered to the others.

I laughed despite the pain. “Well, shit, Toshi. Why the fuck didn’t you start with that? I woulda fought harder!” I grinned, feeling my palms heating up. The flame wall shot higher before circling around the four boys, trapping them inside.

“H-Hey!”

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, bitch?!”

I closed my eyes and hummed, focusing on the sound of the flames. “Don’t get too close, Bakugo, fire is hot.”

“You bitch! Are you fucking working with those guys?! Huh?! Answer me, damn it!”

“That shadow guy did know her name…”

I knew you were a dumbass, Bakugo, but come on. I take back what I said about you being smart! Shit, my concentration is slipping…

“You’re wrong. She’s trying to protect us by preventing us from getting involved.”

Calm spread over me and my arms stopped shaking. Damn, this is gonna be embarrassing, but I need the help. “Oi, Peppermint.”

“My name is Todoroki Shoto,”

“That’s great. Don’t care. Just keep talkin’, will ya?”

“…what?”

“Every time my body starts to shake, say something to me.”

I could hear him shift behind me. “Why?”

For fuck’s sake. “Just fucking do it!” I started coughing, blood splattering onto the ground. Fu~ck, my whole body is hurting. It’s getting harder to breathe. I hope my rib doesn’t puncture my fucking lungs.

“What… should I say?”

“I don’t fucking care,” I groaned, lowering my throbbing head. “Your voice keeps me calm and I can’t afford to lose control here, not now!”

“Hah?! What kind of stupid excuse is that?!”

“Bakugo, I swear to the ruler of hell if you don’t shut up – your voice has the opposite effect!”

“Burn…”

“Shut up, shitty hair!”

“I’ve had enough of this. Nomu, Kurogiri, kill him. I’ll deal with Jen Winchester and the children.”

“Like hell, you will, bastard,” I growled, standing up.

“Let’s clear this level and go home.”

“Heads up, Winchester!” Red yelled as Tomura rushed toward me. I grabbed the dagger from the ground, taking a defensive stance. Let’s see if I can’t create some friends to help me out here.

“Flaming creation!” I yelled, sweeping my left hand through the air. The temperature around me rose as fire spread out around me, forming and molding to take the shape of two flaming tigers on either side of me. Before we could even get close to one another, an overwhelming aura flooded my senses, stopping Tomura in his tracks.

Toshi rushed at Nomu, their fists colliding. The blast sent Tomura flying backward and I fell to my knees, the tigers jumping in front of me to shield me from the force.

“Weren’t you listening? One of his powers is shock absorption.”

“Yeah, and what about it?” They matched each other’s punches, going inhumanly fast, their arms nothing but a blur. How the fuck can they move that fast? My eyes can’t follow them at all. The force coming from the two blew out my flames, the tigers turning to smoke as they fizzled out, but it didn’t matter, the boys were unable to stand.

“Whoah, they’re… so fast!” Red slid back against the ground.

“No, I can’t get near them!” Kurogiri cried.

“He said your quirk was only shock absorption, not nullification,” Toshi commented. “That means there’s a limit to what you can take, right?! So, you were made to fight me, huh, big guy? If you can really withstand me firing at one hundred percent of my power, then I’ll have to go beyond that and force you to surrender!”

Holy fucking tap-dancing tacos, are you even human, Toshi?

He sent Nomu flying into the air before giving chase. “A real hero will always find a way for justice to be served!” He grabbed Nomu mid-air, turning his body in a circle before using the force to slam him down to the earth, the ground shattering beneath him. “Now, for a lesson. You may have heard these words before, but I’ll teach you what they really mean. Go beyond…” he cocked his arm back and I felt a wave of stifling power coming from him. “Plus…” his fist slammed into Nomu’s stomach. “…ULTRA!!”

Nomu went flying, slamming into the ceiling of the dome. The lights exploded around him as his body broke through the glass, the entire dome shaking from the sheer force of the blow.

“That was like the finishing move in a video game… He beat the shock absorption right out of him! I’ve never seen that kind of brute strength.”

“Imagine having power like that… He must have been punching that guy so fast he couldn’t regenerate…”

Goddamn, Toshi.

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

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[namjoonilicious]

DUFF (CHAPTER 3)

Chapter 3

╳ Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

╳ Genre: fluff, smut, angst 

 ╳ Summary: Being the Duff has really changed you.”“Excuse me, the Duff?” I asked, my voice rising a little at the end.“You know, the Designated. Ugly. Fat. Friend.”

As soon as I stepped into the house, I knew I would regret it. The music was so loud, I could feel the bass pounding through my chest. The living room was crammed full with people, and the thought of actually having to walk into that was giving me anxiety. But just remembering that this was Yoongi’s house was making my stomach do summersaults.

“Y/n, lighten up will you? It’s a party, you’re supposed to be having fun.” Lisa said, snaking her arm over my shoulder.

Yeah, because going to a party hosted by the guy that I have a major crush on, but invited you, is really just putting me in the best mood!

“At least you look bomb as fuck” Cassie said, gently pushing me further into the house.

“What I usually wear is fine.” I grumbled, trying to tug down the black dress that could be considered a t-shirt.

“For a grandma” Lisa added as we walked into the kitchen.

Usually I would come up with some snarky remark but just knowing that Yoongi was somewhere close by rendered me speechless.

“Let’s all take a shot!” Lisa yelled, laying out three shot glasses and grabbing some Vodka. Alcohol isn’t something that I normally would drink but she didn’t have to tell me twice as I downed the shot of Vodka, placing the empty glass on the counter.

Lisa and Cassie both looked at me like they were proud parents watching me at my dance recital.

“What?” I asked, already pouring myself a second one.

“Slow down, y/n. We have all night” Cassie laughed, taking the shot glass away from me before I could drink it.

That’s exactly why I needed to keep drinking. I used to always look down on people who drank, always wondering why they couldn’t just have fun sober. But alcohol gives people the courage to do stuff they normally wouldn’t, and in my case, that’s exactly what I needed.

A few more minutes passed until Lisa nudged me on the shoulder.

“Lets go out back, Yoongi’s there.”

My legs instantly felt like they were jello. I defiantly was not drunk enough yet for this encounter to happen. I had no choice in the matter though as Cassie grabbed my arm and practically dragged me through the sweaty bodies.

As soon as we stepped out the back door, the cool breeze felt good as it lightly whipped across my face, making me momentarily forget the reason we were out here. But I knew that moment wouldn’t last long as soon as I heard someone behind us.

“You came!”

“Of course I did!” Lisa said, turning around and walking toward the voice.

I knew who it was yet I couldn’t turn around. Giving myself a pep talk seemed like the only valid option right now. Just turn around y/n, you’re going to look dumb if you’re the only one facing the opposite direction. I took a deep breath and turned around, my heart beating so loud I was afraid everyone could hear it.

At first I only saw Taehyung and Jimin, who I knew as Jungkooks best friends, but as I scanned my eyes over them, I started to break out in a cold sweat. Yoongi was standing there, a beer in his hand, his other hand running through his blonde hair, making me wonder how someone that angelic could exist.

“I’m glad that you could make it” Yoongi said, sliding his arm over Lisa’s shoulders.

Reality set in that all I’ll ever be is a stupid Duff. How could I for even one second think that Yoongi would look twice at me?

“Hey Cassie” Yoongi said, nodding his head in her direction.

Just as she was going to respond, he turned his head, his eyes boring into mine.

“And you are?” He asked. He didn’t say it in a way that was rude, just that he was genuinely curious who I was.

“Y/n” I said, surprised about how smooth that came out of my mouth.

“Nice to meet you, y/n.” He said, his eyes subtly moving up and down my body. Suddenly I felt very self-conscious. If my friends think they’re going to get away with letting me wear this stupid dress, they’re wrong. They’ll be hearing it tonight.  His eyes lingered for a second longer on my legs until he diverted his attention back to Lisa.

The way he said my name almost had me on the floor. I’ve imagined him so many times saying it, but my dreams didn’t do it justice.  

“Hey man!” I heard Taehyung yell, lightly brushing past me. “Didn’t think you’d come tonight!”

“Then you must not know me”

I could actually hear the smirk that was laced in his voice. It didn’t take me more than a second to know who that voice belonged too. I whipped around to see Jungkook standing there in his usual white t-shirt and jeans, and as I guessed it, a smirk on his face.

Okay, I can make it out of here befo-

“Ah, so the Duff has arrived.”

Shit.

I looked up to see that he was already staring at me, his eyes going a shade darker as he raked in my appearance, lightly biting his bottom lip. I’m going to blame the alcohol on the fact that I enjoyed the way Jungkook was looking at me. Once his eyes reached my face, he stared only a second longer before he diverted his attention back to Taehyung.

“Tae this is Duff, Duff, this is Tae.” He said, gesturing between the two of us.

“Fuck you, I have a name.” I snarled, irritated with myself for already giving Jungkook the reaction he wanted.

“Ah feisty” Taehyung said, laughing. “I like that.”

“I would say she’s more bitchy than feisty.” Jungkook joked, smiling at me.

“It was nice to meet you Taehyung, but I think it’s time I go.” I said, turning on my heels and walking back into the house. I couldn’t go home since Cassie decided to drive and there was no way she was going to want to leave now, we got here less than 20 minutes ago. I thought about Lisa with Yoongi and basically ran into the kitchen, taking a drink out of whatever bottle was closest to me.

Just as I was lifting the bottle back to my lips, it was taken away. I turned around, ready to yell at whoever did that, but stopped short when I saw Jungkook standing there against the counter.

“Since when did you turn into an alcoholic?” He asked, bringing the bottle up to his lips.

“Since my life started sucking.” I said, snatching the bottle out of his hands and taking a drink.

He lifted his eyebrows at me, watching me basically drink the whole bottle.

“Okay Duff, what has your life sucking so bad at this moment that you turned into an alcoholic” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

I wanted to tell him that basically it was me being a bad friend. I couldn’t just be happy for Lisa that she was seeing Yoongi, I had to act like a jealous bitch. Nobody knows about the crush I have on him, and here I am just taking it out on her. It’s not fair.

“Well first of all, you’re here.” I smirked, setting the bottle down on the counter.

“Ouch” He said dramatically, clutching his chest. “You should feel blessed that I’m over here talking to you right now and not Evelyn. Have you seen how hot she looks tonight?” He said, licking his lips.

I rolled my eyes and started walking into the living room, choosing to sit down on a sofa that surprisingly wasn’t occupied.  I felt the spot next to me dip down, indicating that Jungkook followed me. The alcohol was starting to hit me and I cursed myself for drinking so much when I knew that I was a lightweight.

“I never knew Yoongi was your type.”

If I were drinking something, I defiantly would’ve spit it out.

“W-what are you talking about?” I asked nervously, my face already turning a shade of red.

“You know what I’m talking about, Duff. When I walked over there I could literally see you drooling.”

“I was not drooling you jackass!” I yell, facing him.

He had a look on his face that I couldn’t quite decipher. It almost looked like jealousy but there was no way in hell Jungkook was jealous. I don’t think he has ever felt that emotion in his life.

“You might as well have been.” He said, his eyes boring into mine.

I never realized how close we were sitting, my bare thigh leaning against his leg and our shoulders touching. His eyes were slowly traveling down my face until they stopped at my lips and for some reason I found myself staring at his. I don’t know how long I can keep blaming the alcohol for my decisions, but that’s exactly what I’m going to do right now.

We both happened to lean in at the same time, our lips about to connect. Before they could even make contact, I was being ripped away.

“Y/n, Taehyung likes you!” Cassie yelled, jumping up and down excitedly.

It took me a minute to realize what had happened. I was about to kiss Jungkook. And I actually wanted to.  I looked back to see that he was no longer sitting on the sofa, having already disappeared into the crowd.

“Y/n, are you listening to me?!” Cassie asks, gently shaking me.

“Oh sorry what?” I ask, trying to gather my thoughts.

Maybe it’s a blessing in disguise that Cassie pulled me away at that moment. God knows I would regret that when I woke up in the morning. But why do I feel like I’m just telling myself that to feel better? Why did I actually want to kiss him? No y/n you don’t. He’s just a douche that treats you like shit. After tonight I swear I’m never drinking again.

“Taehyung said he likes you!”

“He likes me? Cass, he doesn’t even know me.” I said, looking at her quizzically. Of course Taehyung was beautiful. He looked like he should be on the front cover of a magazine. Everyone loved him, and I mean everyone. He had that personality that just drew you to him. You could always see him with a boxy smile on his face, bringing good moods to anyone who was near him.

“Okay, maybe he didn’t exactly say the word like, but he implied it!” Cassie said, her smile as wide as her eyes.

What if this is all some sick joke? Jungkook is one of his best friends so he has to know about me being the Duff. I mean, he literally called me that in front of him. There is no way in hell someone like Taehyung would be interested in me. This has to be a dare that Jungkook gave him. 

“I highly doubt that.” I said, already done with this conversation.

“Y/n, why wouldn’t he like you? Are you still thinking about what Jungkook called you? He’s a fucking prick. Don’t listen to a word he says.”

Too late.

Honestly, I’m just done with tonight. From seeing Lisa with Yoongi to almost kissing Jungkook, I think it’s time that I just go to sleep.

“Listen, I’m just going to get an Uber and go home, okay?”

The look on my face must have been enough proof that I didn’t want to argue because she didn’t push it.

“Okay. Please text me as soon as you get home. Love you.” She said, wrapping me in a hug.

“I will, love you too” I said, pulling away and smiling at her.

The front yard almost looked as bad as the inside. People were passed out on the grass and broken beer bottles were everywhere. This is why I would never throw a party. As I was walking, I took out my phone to get an Uber when I ran into something hard.

“I’m so sorry!” I said immediately, looking up from my phone.

“It’s no problem. You’re y/n, right?”

I almost shit myself. I wish I could say I was joking but I wasn’t. There in front of me was Yoongi, still looking just as beautiful as he did hours before.

“U-uh yeah.” I said, pushing my hair behind my ear nervously. I seriously need to get it together.

“Are you leaving?” he asked, looking confused.

“Yeah, I’m just exhausted.” I said, looking anywhere but his face. As I stood there, I noticed Lisa wasn’t with him.  “Where’s Lisa?” I blurted out before he could speak.

He smiled his gummy smile and pointed behind me. “She’s inside looking for you actually.”

“When she comes back out here you can just tell her I’m getting an Uber and going home. I’ll text her when I get there.” I said, already ready to walk away and go curse myself out later for sounding like an idiot. 

“I can take you” He said, already pulling out his car keys.

Okay, how drunk am I? Is Yoongi really offering to take me home?

“No!” I said a little too quickly. “I mean no, it’s fine! I don’t want to inconvenience you”

“You’re not inconveniencing me y/n, I want to.”

“But Lisa is inside” I said, nervously wiping my hands on my dress.

“I’ll text her and tell her that you need a ride home so I’m taking you there.” He said, ruffling his hair out of his eyes.

And that is how I ended up in Yoongis car, halfway to my house.