#unless I get a special extension for one more quarter

[supernovaa-remnant]

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[myafterlifeisbetterthenyours]

I'm reading too many fanfics and today I want something more cute than romantic, so I would like Stella with an S/o to be her personal butler who took care of her during her childhood and adolescence (bonus if S/o used to sing to Stella when she was a kid) . obviously the S / o must have a great preparation to be worthy of taking care of the daughter of the parents who were certainly one of the causes of Stella to be like this

Stella's personal Servant and S/O

You had spent years in preparation for when you would meet your mistress.

It was a common practice amongst the nobility.

You take a child from a lower house, train and raising them to become the personal servant to a child from a higher noble family.

You were of lower stock, your family heavily reliant on Stella's family, and being the youngest of your line, you found yourself chosen to be her servant.

Although the agreement basically surrendered one of there own to a life of servitude, it also brought prestige to there household, while also placing one of there own at the right hand of the next head of a powerful household.

Despite your years of training, you were still increadibly nervous upon meeting her, terrified you'd do something wrong and screw it up.

But much to your surprise, she wasn't some terrifying ice queen who could vapourise you with a glare.

She was just a girl. A young, normal looking noble girl. Seemingly not much older than you.

Your meeting was somewhat awkward, you being unsure how you should interact with her outside of the cold formalities you were taught.

Your relationship was an unusual one.

As while, yes you were her servant, you were also expected to be her closest allie and truest friend.

You were expected to take on every burden she had, to carry and guard them to the death.

A concept that hadn't fully registered in your young mind yet, but despite your age, you quickly acclimated to your new responsibilities.

You had, of course, been give training for your new duty, but much of it was learnt in the field.

You found yourself working into a schedule; wake up before her, get clean, have breakfast before waking her up at 7:30 sharp.

From there you would help her dress, something you were quite flustered about the first time around. Then you accompanied her to breakfast, then to her first lesson of the day.

You were often dismissed during her lessons, returning to her room to tidy up, or have her clothes cleaned.

It took time but eventually you were just as capable at cleaning and serving as any veteran servant of the household.

Now, initially Stella was quite... cold towards you. Treating you not much better than any other servant of the home.

But she did eventually warm to you, starting the night you heard her having a nightmare.

Much to her annoyance you had been moved into the room besides her, giving her 24 hour access to you, and you to her.

So you were easily capable of hearing her toss and turn in bed, her whimpers getting louder and louder. Until she awoke, with a scream.

You instantly shot into action, sliding into her room and pulled her into your embrace.

Holding her to your chest, you did your best to sooth her. Barely being a boy yourself you were quite inexperience with such things.

So you did the only thing you could, you sang to her.

You sung her the song your wet nurse used to sing you when you had a bad dream. Holding her for what felt like hours, gently singing to her until she fell back to sleep.

The next morning she insisted you call her Stella, unlike before when she demand the customary 'Lady' or 'Mistress'.

Not long after that she began addressing you by name. The two of you seeming to enter a level of mutual respect.

Similar events would happen several more times during your youth, each time you sang her the same song, holding her close and soothing her.

You brought up the nightmares to her parents, the two seemingly didn't care. Her parents just coldlt telling you 'They were something she needed to get over herself.'

And her parents weren't the warmest family, both her parents seemed obsessed with there appearances, placing politics over the well bing of there own daughter.

So you made her well-being your top priority, always asking if she was OK or if she wanted to talk.

In preparation for you new duties you had already received extensive training in everything from cleaning to first aid.

But as the the two of you grew, you began getting lessons in far more hands on fields.

As you were expected to be her faithful guardian. You were trained in various forms of combat, with everything from knives, to assault rifles.

Followed by several specialised first aid courses, each one dedicated to a different field of medicine.

You excelled through each course, taking the role as both servant and protector as your own.

Despite being younger then your charge, your mentality quickly matured beyond your years, willing and prepared to fight to the death for your charge.

You fully embraced you postion, putting aside everything you were and giving yourself to your new role, absolutely.

As the two of you grew older, you also grew closer and closer. And due to your special status as her personal servant, having less limitations put on you then a regular servant of the house, you could act as more of a friend to the girl. Acting as a trusted confidant for the girls troubles.

As you matured your skills, both physically and mentally, you learned to better dedicat your new skills to what would most efficiently aid your liege.

While you excelled in your training dedicating your self to the task before you, the main problem you faced was, Stella.

It may seem petty, but Stella being of a higher and more powerful cast meant she grew to tower over you by at least a foot.

Something she was sure to rub in your face.

And it may not seem like that big of a deal, but protecting someone much taller then you, was a constant struggle. As they were far more visible then yourself and could be targeted from angles you weren't able to see.

But you did your absolute best, going above and beyond as her steadfast companion, hapily waiting on her hand a foot.

It seemed like a blink if an eye and the beautiful young lady you once served had grown into a beautiful young woman.

And much to your shame, over the years spent together, you had developed a deep affection for her, an affection that went far beyond friendship.

Of course you would never publicly admit such a thing, your years of training alloweing you to keep such your feelings suppressed. Only allowing your affection to show through in what would be expected of a typical platonic relationship.

When Stella came to the age of 17, her parents decided to send her to an academy famous for its education of young noble women.

The problem was, it was an all girls academy. And you being her private servant, and right hand, the two of you could not be sepperated for such a long period of time.

It took a fair bit of political manoeuvring and more then a few favours to get you in, but by the end of it, you found yourself enrolled right besides her.

You were to attend every class as well as share quarters with Stella. You were not to leave her side unless absolutely necessary.

You were far from the only servant to accompany there mistress.

You found a variety of them, from Imps to hellhounds. You even saw a few succubus amongst them.

But the thing that really stood out, was that you were the only male, even amongst the staff.

Initially life at the academy went fantastic.

Stella, with her confident nature and families status thrived at the academy, easily rising the social ranks, making friends and allies.

The whole thing bringing a great sense of warmth to your black heart.

You stood back and proudly watched as she excelled amongst her peers, only having to step in to aid her in her day to day.

But unfortunately, problems did arise. And much to your shame, they were spawned from you.

Now, you had already received a fair amount of attention from the Student; Stares, love letters, lustful gazes. But you were there for Stella, the affects of there attention quickly dissipated as you focused on Stella.

Now you being a fairly attractive young man, in exceptional shape from years of work and being the only male in a school of a few hundred young hormonal women.

But initially, being Stella's servant stopped anyone from pursuing you, as relations with someone below them was punished severely by both the school and there families.

Unfortunately the question of who you were was quickly raised, Stella without much concern or thought, told them all about your special status as both a noble and a servant.

And that's were the problems really began.

You see, sleeping with another family's servant, was an excellent way to get yourself disowned by your family.

But a fling with a servant, whom was also a fellow noble... that could be tolerated.

You were greatly surprised to find just how tolerant the school was of such behaviour.

It would seem that despite there rather strict policy on student/Staff relations, that being pubished severely.

But the school was unwilling to take serious action against noble children for have relations amongst themselves.

It seemed they allowed the students to let out there rebellious phase in small ways, perhaps a method to help make them into proper nobles.

Needless to say, you had never been so happy you were Stella's servant.

You'd heard how some of them talked about you, and if Stella wasn't your mistress, your quite certain you'd be used as a tool for political gain, regardless how you felt about it.

Ironically, you found Stella becoming far more possessive of you, especially whenever someone began to show interest in you.

Now she had always been possessive of you to a degree, snapping at anyone who dared to treat you poorly or acted like you were supposed to serve them, something that happened quite often amongst nobility.

You liked to think it was her way of marking her territory, all the while showing you that she had your back. And with all the attention you were getting, it only made sense for her to be a bit more possessive.

Adding to your growing shame, seeing Stella becoming such a strong, confident woman had only strengthened your feelings for her.

In your mind, you had kept your feeling for Stella perfectly hidden. Only allowing your affection to show, through your friendly and platonic behaviour.

Apparently you were wrong.

Parties were surprisingly common on the school grounds, with a major party seemingly occurring at least once a month.

Stella being ever the socialite, was of course invited. The young lady flirtaciously telling you were invited as well. Following her to the party, you found a small herd of teens sipping wine from plastic cups, talking amongst themselves.

Playing nobility.

It was fun for the most part.

Everyone was dancing and drinking. And much to your surprise Stella was quite lax when it came to alcohol, drinking more than her fair share.

A little tipsy, she found you, demanding you dance with her.

Now you, on the other hand, did not party. You did not drink, you did not fraternise and you most certainly didn't dance.

You were her guardian, you were supposed to watch over her, not get drunk with her in some random dormroom.

But Stella ordered you, not having the will to refuse her, you complied.

You danced and drank and partied. And for the first time in your life, you let yourself he a teenager.

And you enjoyed it. You enjoyed being with Stella.

The mood quickly soured when, as Stella left to get a drink, some random girl grabbed you by the collar and rather aggressively tried to kiss you.

You were able to hold her back of course, even inebriated you were still strong enough to hold back a drunk teenage girl.

You were freaking out, unable to think of what to do, only for Stella to appear and violently rip her off you, beating the crap out of the her right there infront of all the other party goers.

She screamed at the girl, telling her to never touch what belonged to her again. Before without saying a word, grabbing your hand and dragging you out of the party.

She dragged you into a nearby allyway, ranting and raving about how dare someone touch you, you belonged to her and she was sick of having to remind people.

Her words becoming progressively more possessive, you just half drunkenly stumbling your much taller mistress.

Raising the question of her increasingly possessive language, you saw her entire body shift.

Walking up to you, she pressed her body up against yours, effortlessly pinning you to the wall.

It was pointless to struggle, as even with all your training she was still stronger.

With eyes you had never seen before, she stared into your own and asked if you liked her.

You were both shocked and terrified, you were so sure you had been careful.

You sputtered something out, trying to hide your feelings before she cut you off with a passionate kiss.

She held you close as she told you all about how she knew you liked her, about how she knew you always held yourself back.

But she understood why.

You were left stunned when she told you the reason she knew why, was because she'd been doing the same. She confessed she had fallen for you, but like you, she had kept her feeling secret because such a relationshi wouldn't be "proper"!

But she didn't care anymore.

She was sick of keeping her feelings for you a secret, sick of watching other women get to speak and act freely while she was forced to hold her tongue.

She wanted you and she was going to have you, no matter what anyone thought.

She dragged you back to your dormroom, although it was more like a small apartment before dragging you to her bed.

Sitting above you she asked if you wanted this, unable to think of the right words you just gave her another passionate kiss.

The two of you spent the night together.

Your relationship was kept a secret for the rest of her time in the academy. The two of you agreeing it would be best and with Your position already giving you the best possible excuse to be close together.

Once you both graduated, Stella's parents tried to have an arranged marriage set up for her, hoping to achieve greater prestige for the family.

But much to your surprise, she blatantly refused.

Instead she using her new-found political connections and usurped her parents, taking the family name and the role of head of household as her own.

Her first act, openly declaring your relationship.

You were deeply relieved the outcry was very minimal, contained to only a few already outspoke critics that apposing her anyways.

And so you stood by her ever since. As bother her loyal protector and faithful lover.

Hey hey, this one was a challenge, but I still enjoyed it. If any of you have a request or want to submit a prompt, go right ahead. Check out my master list for what I won't write and go for it. Thank you all for reading.

[yostresswritinggirl]

and, if Albedo have his own personal botanist, what about xiao have his own personal chef, or something like that? the reader working at wangshu inn as the chef or maid 👀 (this the request... If you want to make something from this absurd idea 👀👀)

Hehe I like your thought process, anon. Albedo and Xiao really just: 😏👉👉 *finger guns* 👈👈 😑 for having reader assistants in my masterlist huh.

Making this solely a personal chef/maid thing would defo make this response hella short so I added in more info and background just like I did with Albedo's, so I hope you guys end up enjoying this one too!!

It isn't an absurd idea, but I sure as hell made an absurd answer to it kek

Xiao's Devoted "Chef"

Xiao with a Reader who is not only his Personal Chef but assistant

Background (let's gooo)

The arrival of the Adepti Yaksha in Wangshu Inn was really something I've been intrigued about for a while now, but I won't make much assumptions here because his banner is coming and more info would be given to us.

Xiao had long since been residing in and spends a majority of his time in this Inn yet its owners, Verr Goldet and Huai'an, barely knows anything about the adepti or his lifestyle.

So on a sunny, quaint day like any other where calmness passes through the lands without worry, they expected the Adepti to resign himself to a moment of peace and rest too.

So color them surprised when they save the familiar silhouette of the adepti ascending to the top floor. Porcelain white skin and clear tank top glittered with fresh blood as a broken and bruised figure lays unconscious in his arms. The couple was thankful that there were no customers out and about that day, because it would be a disaster for an audience to witness such a thing. Also bad for business, but they'll hold that in at the back of their mind.

Skilled workers were quick to work with their seemingly extensive experience with such a protocol. As they tended to the victim, the Boss stayed behind to tend to and inquire with the Adepti. Yet such a conversation between them came out strained:

There were no visible wounds that require immediate medical attention but there was a look in his eyes that feels much more broken than anything they can fix. Verr's hands hover over him in an attempt to urge him to clean up his still bloodied form. His amber eyes that were usually sharp looks through a distance light-years away.

"Xiao," the woman started and the eyes snapped out of its reverie, subtly looking around to ground himself. "What happened? And are you okay?"

"Their- the parents died from a Hilichurl ambush, I was only able to save the child," his crossed arms gripped at his forearm in the realization of his utter mistake. "32 seconds."

"32 seconds?" The Mondstadtian offered a fresh set of hot towels he had taken, and he had flinched when he saw the carnage that stuck close to his skin.

"I was 32 seconds late."

Your parents were adventurers who brought you with them as big fans of traveling and nomadic lifestyle, no set home yet freely living by. You were in your younger teens and you'd clarified you had no other family to go to.

The death of your parents came as an obvious shock to your young self yet you grieved in silence and sobs, as the only person you trust hovers next to where you rest in silent contemplation.

Verr knows that look, and it was something she hasn't seen on the Adepti before. Of pure guilt and a sense of responsibility.

That night you rested surprisingly nightmare-free as your savior stands his ground next to where you rest.

Present Times

The couple had adopted you into the Inn family without a second's hesitance and you were thankful for them as you were to Xiao. You were no heavy expense or disadvantage and that made it all the more easier to adapt into your new lifestyle.

Despite no words or explanation, you were perfectly aware of the deeds your savior had done to save you and keep you alive, and with that you had sworn to serve him until the end of your time. A life for a life, equivalent exchange.

Coming into terms with being in Liyue and the Inn, your life choices were meddled with commerce and the importance of livelihood. You were young but your guilt of being under the care of such people forced you to take on any and every responsibility you can handle.

Despite your background you were expertly skilled with cooking. Your mother and father always taught you the importance of a meal for adventurers whenever you'd camped out. And your special touch on dishes that saves adventurers had drawn in many appetites.

Business boomed and the Inn wasn't just famous for being a temporary residence, but a sanctuary that offers tastes paired with the divine sense of Celestia. You became Wangshu Inn's Head Chef, with your sous-chef Smiley Yanxiao.

At times where Xiao is forced to make rounds to seize looming threats, he'd find himself picking fresh and healthy ingredients he'd find on the way back and present to you for new recipes to experiment on.

But you also pride yourself with a different title, or titles: The Adepti's Personal Chef, Tender of the Yaksha, Adepti's Devotee.

This title was emphasized by the Sigil of Permission sewn into an armband hanging by your right arm, something you proudly wear even beyond the walls of the Inn.

You found out the Adepti's favorite during your daily visit and breaks, usually done so by hanging out in the balcony with him with a brand new recipe you recently made and wanted to test out.

While he sat parallel to you, he eyed the transparent syrup and the gelatinous substance in the obvious curiousity he shows for all your new creations, silently awaiting your opinion by watching your expression: whenever you show even the slightest distaste, he'll pointedly ignore his curiousity and the dish altogether. And if you express such pride and achievement, his interest will get the better of him, if you haven't offered the dish quickly enough.

"What is this?" He'd finally ask after your delighted moans, indulging on your own creation.

"Mmm, Almond Tofu... do you wish to try it?" Without an answer he'd pick up the only spoon on the plate and tasted it himself. And just like that, he'd froze, eyes full blown in surprise and awe.

"Do you like it?" He can only hum in response as he scarfs down the plate by himself, chewing respectfully yet with a hint of vigor in every scoop. "It tastes... like dreams..." the way he looked at you, with eyes possessing such childlike wonder, you couldn't help but fall.

After that, Xiao had requested a daily plate/offering of it. It became a routine to the point that all workers heard of the favoritism and are encouraged to learn the recipe. But it's usually your dish that is served, unless special occasions calls for someone else.

There has been an influx of dormers and adventurers recently as citizens around Teyvat flock to the Liyue continent in hopes to watch the most extravagant celebration of the new year, the Lantern Rite Festival.

Your best efforts manning the kitchen together with Yanxiao took gruelling hours just to prepare for the dinner's first course even with hours of prep time available. Even both bosses had to lend some hands as your sous-chef can barely keep up with your stride. And after the dishes are finally distributed to the dining hall, you were already set in cleaning up the kitchen, and before you knew it-

"It has been an hour."

"It was a busy day, I'm sorry, Xiao." You could only muster a mumble in guilt as you kept your head down on the usual table, refusing to look at the disapproving expression he definitely wore, except he doesn't. His face has the slightest hints of worry and wonder at your deflated composure.

But his focus now was on the food he has been craving the whole day, already digging into his dessert. And you just tried your hardest not to fall asleep on the cold, wooden tabletop. Until your tummy rumbled through the silence.

A hum. "You haven't eaten?" You shake your head as you lift your head, gazing at the cute sight of your guardian tilting his head to the side in slight distaste for your lifestyle. You open your mouth to retort until you felt the cold utensil touch your bottom lip. "Here, I saved you the last bite. After this, get yourself a meal and retreat to your quarters, I don't want to hear any excuses." He softly urges a little push with the spoon so you get the hint, and you wrap your lips around it, chewing and gulping down cold dessert. He offered his favorite food, used the same spoon, and spoon fed you with it—

"Wha... don't- don't bite the spoon," you squeeze your eyes tight from the embarrassing thoughts in your head.

When people wish to have an audience with Xiao, most of the time they head to you for guidance after inquiring with Verr. They require a sigil of permission, and most of the times, your own sigil has been under fire a lot in their desperation.

An old merchant who desperately wants to hire the adepti to aid his caravan with personal security once tried to claw at your armband, but a split second after the tip of his fingers had touched the cloth, he was blown away to the nearest wall.

"What-," a pressure on your left shoulder pulls your other against a lean chest, protectively squeezing as a polearm materialized in front of you. You can feel the ragged vibrations of the Yaksha's unusually heavy breaths, his amber eyes sharp and dangerous, dilated like a predator.

"What gives you the idea that you had the authority to lay a hand on my assistant?" Black and teal embers conjure around you two as a dark shadow slowly creeps up from the ground. "That is their sigil of permission; I want nothing to do with you mere mortals."

If not for Verr and the other staff, things would have gone gruesome and unsightly for the business. Yes, business. Everyone disliked the guy enough to care more about the Inn than his actual well-being. When he'd come to, he was forced out of the Inn (he would have done so himself anyways as he was already traumatized).

"Sir Xiao, why did you do that?"

"He didn't have a Sigil, he was pretty much asking for it. And why have you gone formal?" You pouted at him and his only response was a quirked eyebrow. Walking over to stand behind him, you slowly wiggled your arms through the gap between his waist and slack arms, finding it easy enough with how thin his waist is as you wrapped him in a hug.

He tensed from the secretly ticklish feeling before letting down his guard in your arms. This was one of your leeway as his most devoted follower. Your constant exposure with the aid of the divine sigil has made you immune to the negative effects of Adeptal energy, enough to make him nigh worry about your safety around him anymore.

And him letting you hug him like this... let's just say it's from your mannerisms of comfort when you were still young and around him.

"Take an indefinite leave," Xiao broke the silence a few minutes after, forcing you to crane your head to the side to look at him. He meets your gaze with an amused glint. "You have no debt to pay here, you shouldn't be holed up in a place like this."

"It is true that me leaving wouldn't have majooor repercussions, but what's with the sudden idea?"

He huffs. "You're my only follower and yet you divide your attention serving temporary mortals that will pass by without remembrance. And besides," you tense at the sight of an upturn on the edge of lip, pearly whites subtly peeking, "personal does not mean sharing."

You were an adventurer at heart and it's time you indulge in that glorified life of excitement, with your guardian by your side. It was the only gift he can come up with for your undying devotion.

Holy - I had to cut this thing A LOT because I wrotE A HECKIN LOT WTF?! It's not even done in my mind, my goodness, there should be an adventuring unit here too but hhhh I got too conscious of the length sksksks I'm so sorry! P-Part 2-?

I enjoyed writing this a tad bit too much sksksks but now that the second to the last installation of this even is published, the next request should be the last one! And that means I'll have to stop the poll and start working on the requests for the 100 followers one! So if you haven't voted there, you should before it's too late!!

[artsy-hobbitses]

I'm getting very curious about Malaysia... what's it like there?? Culture, living conditions, etc.

Pretty loaded question!

Off the top of my head, some specifics:

- Very much a melting pot. Malay, Chinese and Indian ethnicities mingle pretty freely, interracial marriages are not uncommon (I’m quarter Chinese on my mum’s side) and the modern Malaysian slang is often a mishmash of Malay, Chinese and Indian words. You have a choice between public, vernacular (usually caters to a specific race ie. Chinese/Indian as a stronghold of the language/customs, however I had Malays friends who went to Chinese Vernacular schools) international, private and religious schools (mostly for the Muslim-Majority Malays). Public holidays are designated for all three major races (big ones are Eid, Deepavali and Chinese New Year) plus more specific ones in Sabah/Sarawak for the indigenous population, and it’s normal for say, Malays to be invited to a Deepavali gathering or for Chinese to be invited to Eid open houses. We’re usually chill about it like that.

- Despite this, racism exists. It’s not loud and proud like in western nations though (except for your occasional Malay nationalist politician) it tends to be more of the passive-aggressive sort. Some parents discreetly warn their kids about not being friends with [X] race at school, some house rental listings with single out [X] race, though we’re coming to the point that we’re not bothering with Asian decorum anymore and publicly shitting on that behavior. On a historical aspect, the potential reason it takes on a more subtle, passive-aggressive tone here was that on 13 May 1969, sectarian violence broke out between urban Chinese and Malays in Kuala Lumpur due to unrest over the general election, and this resulted in the deaths of 600 people, mostly Chinese (My mum lived through this time at the heart of the incident). Basically the nation’s been scarred and has feared a similar event ever since, so those spouting open racial violence get slammed down pretty quick and “Remember 13 May” has often been used as a warning for whenever tensions flare up. Or when politicians want us to keep our grumblings down. We tend to have a don’t-rock-the-boat mentality here on the basis of trying to keep the peace for everyone—-it doesn’t always work. Malay Privilege/“Ketuanan Melayu” is a thing you’ll hear often from some sections of Malays here, who tend to argue that since they’re technically the original inhabitants if the land (don’t quiz ‘em about the Orang Asli), they should get more rights than the others.

-Living conditions vary. I live in Selangor—the state surrounding the Capital Kuala Lumpur—-which has the highest density of denizens. Here, it’s pretty modern. My husband and I rent a two-story terrace house, my parents who are a little well-off have their own bungalow. Places like Penang, Perak and Johor also tend to be more in the modern side. You’ll find more rural areas and kampungs as you go deeper into the heart of country (Pahang), the East Coast (Kelantan, Terengganu) and the country’s rice bowl (Kedah, and by extension, Perlis). This is within the Peninsula—-Sabah (I lived here for about four years) and Sarawak have a combination of modern and rural areas and tend to take life at a much slower pace than the Peninsula states (They also want none of Peninsula’s religious tension bullshit). My father’s kampung is in Pahang, and while I was never close to my paternal grandparents, I do have fond memories of cooking outdoors and plucking rambutan bunches from the trees they grew.

- Wet. Very wet. Monsoon season/‘Musim Tengkujuh’ at year end interspace with mid-year. Fucks with the income of local fishermen who are barred from going to the ocean on the account of rough waves, Flooding is an annual occurrence for rural areas, though we get flash floods in cities too. Common enough that “check for crocodiles” isn’t a weird request when you come back to clean your homes from mud and silt. (Houses near flood-prone areas will employ walls or be built on stilts to withstand the floods).

- 9 Sultans for 9 states, they take turns becoming the Agong (Chief Sultan I guess?) every five years. They’re mostly there the same way the British monarchy is. Don’t really play a big role in politics unless there is a need for them to decree something when politicians can’t work things out between themselves.

- Political leapfrog. It’s. A thing. A politician you see from one party today can be a member of another party tomorrow. It’s gotten so bad they’re considering legislation to punish it. We do call them literal frogs (Katak) when they do this (Sorry frogs, you deserve better!)

- Food. All the fucking food. Melting pot = all the deliciousness. There’s no culturally appropriating cuisine here, everyone’s eating everyone else’s stuff with great gusto. Roti Canai/Chappati (Indian) for breakfast, Nasi Campur (mixed rice, mostly with Malay dishes) for lunch and Wantan Mee (Chinese) for dinner is an example of the food culture trip you go through on any given day. You’ll have Malays who adore Chinese food, Chinese who adore Malay food, and no one fights when they’re eating, that’s all there is to it. Places like Penang are a haven for food and people will make trips just to eat there.

- Islam is the main religion. However, it’s not strictly enforced in most cases, I’d dare even say that we’re quite secular, to the teeth-gnashing of the Facebook army. I’m a Muslim who doesn’t wear a headscarf (except on special occasions), I know Muslims who rescue and keep dogs (My hunter grandfather apparently caught and kept a Dhole as a house guard way back), and I know some who’re LGBT, albeit somewhat discreet about it.

- Speaking of LGBT, the country is not friendly to the community, but neither is it as hostile as sections of the US tend to be about it. As an example, gay conversion therapy isn’t really a thing there (presumably because that would entail the govt admitting that there’s enough gay people to require it at all), workplaces generally do not have a policy targeting people based on their sexualities, like you’ll find butch ladies serving you drinks at Starbucks and gay men working with local theatre productions, and violence against LGBT members is pretty rare (though I imagine this is more because most people here mostly do not want to kick up a fuss in public, what more a fight, and just judge from a distance). Basically, the majority of the public will tolerate LGBT existence—whispering behind their back——until there starts to be a call for rights.

- Good degree of English command. English is understood, if not spoken, by a lot of us here from cab drivers to stall owners, so you won’t be hopelessly lost if you decide to visit. A big majority of us are at LEAST bilingual (In my case, I speak English and Malay, and can understand some Arabic). Quite a number who come from interracial marriages are trilingual.

- Cheap healthcare. There’s a reason we’re one of the top destinations for medical tourism. You have a choice between private and government hospitals which provide a form of universal healthcare. Govt clinics/hospitals offer subsidized healthcare and meds to all members of the public, and most doctors will start out in government hospitals before moving to private practices (like my sister-in-law). Uninsured, a trip to a normal clinic for a consultation will set you back maybe twenty to thirty bucks, fifty if you need meds or a small procedure like stitches. I do have insurance but have never used it for doctor visits since the amount is pretty trivial. I have, however, used it for a hysterectomy surgery + 1 month hospital stay at a private hospital which set me back about RM30,000-RM40,000 (USD7000-USD9500) which I managed to get covered. Ambulance Fees are like, RM200 (USD47) for private hospitals and RM50 (USD12) for govt hospitals. Consultation fees, blood tests and X-Rays go as low as RM1 (24 Cents) in govt hospitals. If you get hurt here, we got you covered.

And that’s just off my head! If there’s something specific you’d like you know, feel free to ask further ouob

[tomtenadia]

Island Dreams - Chapter 27

Welcome to chapter 27.

So, we are still in Glasgow. Our two lovebird are having a tourist day and Rowan is showing Aelin some of his favourite sites of Glasgow.

Later on there is a moment that has a warning: your ovaries might explode because Rowan is just... let's just say that he will be such an amazing dad.

His accent has a bit of a transformation and he goes into Glasgow mode and in my head Rowan with a Glaswegian accent is so sexy that I want to cry.

In this chapter they cover quite a lot of ground and all the places I mentioned they do exist. These are the cloisters: https://i.redd.it/mxant25n4zh01.jpg. Glasgow uni is a truly amazing site but I particularly adore the cloister and the image does not do any justice at all to the place. This is Kelvingrove: https://peoplemakeglasgow.com/images/Things_to_do/Museums_and_galleries/Kelvingrove-995.jpg. another place that has a special place in my heart. Because it's free, every time I am in Glasgow I go in.

The Hunterian Museum is one of those hidden gems that when I was still working in tourism I used to recommend to everyone visiting Glasgow. It's incredible and the medical section is my favourite.

The Korean restaurant they visit is called Bibimbap and it's a place I adore a lot. Glasgow has a Lego store and like Aelin I always want to spend my entire salary in it.

I adore Glasgow. Deeply and as Rowan said, it's a very underrated place. I worked in tourism for almost 9 years and 95% of the people wanted to go to Edinburgh and bypassed and ignored Glasgow altogether. It's a shame. Its people are amazing and the city has so, so much to offer. I am waiting for lockdown to be over so I can go back.

Ok, I finished playing tourist office for Glasgow.

I leave you to the chapter <3

(If there are typos, as usual I am sorry, but after a long day at work my brain does not cooperate anymore)

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The following morning it was Aelin to be the first one up. Her stomach was grumbling loudly and she was starving. Slowly she disentangled herself from Rowan and went to the bathroom to get ready. She grabbed her phone and the forecast said another day of high temperatures so she dressed lightly. She was finishing getting ready when Rowan finally woke up. “I woke up before you for once.” She gloated. Rowan rolled on his back and stretched out his limbs “did you three sleep well?” She walked to the edge of the bed and sat beside him. He took her hand and kissed it, then sat up and kissed the bump and then Aelin “morning, my darlings.” “I slept beautifully. I was so tired that it did not take me long to pass out.” “And how do you feel this morning?” “I need to eat and then I am ready to explore.” She admitted while finishing packing her bag for the day. Rowan laughed “let me get dressed.”

Aelin sat on the bed and stared at him while he was getting changed “nice ass, Whitethorn.” In response he wiggled it and Aelin burst out in laughter “now get a move on. I am hungry.” “Fine.” He was ready in five minutes and together they walked downstairs for breakfast which turned out to be a bit of a disappointment. Aelin had not been impressed by it and claimed that the option of continental breakfast was not exceptional so Rowan promised to take her to a nice place for a proper nice breakfast. Once they got back to their room Rowan prepared his backpack, which was now much lighter since all the snacks had disappeared. “Give me your hoodie.” “It’s a lovely day.” She protested. “Yes, Fireheart, but you have lived in Scotland long enough to know that it might not stay like that.” She gave him the hoodie and he packed it away, leaving Aelin with just her small bag. He grabbed their two water bottles “remind me to ask the hotel if they can fill these up for us.” Ten minutes later they were outside the hotel and Aelin was giddy “come on, old man. I want to explore.” Rowan took her for breakfast as promised and she was very satisfied with the place and declared that for the next few days that’s where they were going. Later on they arrived at Kelvingrove and entered the museum and noticed the sign saying that the following day they were going to close for a wedding reception. Aelin smiled at him and pointed at the sign “it’s the first time I go to a wedding reception inside a museum and a wedding inside a university. It’s so cool. I feel so special.” Inside the main hall they noticed the staff was busy at work setting up the tables and chairs for the following day. Aelin was stunned. The place was a dream with incredible architecture and at the end of the main hall there was an organ and Rowan explained to her that from time to time it was used and they had concerts. Rowan dragged her around the museum and they had great fun in the technology section were they fought off kids for a chance to play with the installations “they should stop hogging the displays, it’s not just for them.” Whispered Aelin. “Such a lovely maternal instinct.” “I want to play too.” She protested. Wondering around, Aelin had no idea where to look. There were plastic heads hanging from the ceiling in one of the halls, whereas in another one there was what she thought was a Spitfire. She had listened enough of Aedion’s talks about planes to have a general and very basic knowledge of some famous models. She took a photo and sent it to him. His reply came quickly and she laughed. “What?” “Aedion is jealous that I have a Spitfire hanging from my head.” “You need to tell him about two airshows we have every year in Scotland. The Red Arrows and the Typhoons are always there. I bet he’d love to be there.” “I’ll tell him straight away. He did three years in the Red Arrows. He probably performed in them.” “No way.” “Oh yeah, he is that awesome as a pilot.” It took them a few hours before they left the museum. Aelin loved it so much that Rowan had to literally drag her out with the excuse that there was so much more they had to see. They continued their walk inside Kelvingrove park and sat down for a while allowing Aelin to rest. “It’s amazing that there is such an incredible park near a university. I love it.” He pulled her close “On a sunny day I used to come and study in the park instead of the library. This area is my favourite part of Glasgow and it has some fantastic places where to eat.” “Are you okay for another walk or shall we sit a bit longer?”Aelin turned and leaned her back against him. Rowan, moved as well and placed his legs at each side of her and pulled Aelin against his chest. “Let’s relax a bit longer. It’s so nice around here.” “I was in student accommodation the first year,” he started telling her, “but then my friends and I found a flat just around the corner on Argyll st. I used to come for morning runs here, the park is very extensive.” “This is the only corner I have seen so far but it seems like a beautiful city.” She felt Rowan nod “It’s quite snubbed and very underrated. People tend to flock to Edinburgh and ignore Glasgow. Yes, it’s much more industrial, but that’s its heart and its identity. Glasgow was an industrial city famous for shipbuilding and, if you feel like it, we can walk a bit along the Clyde and you will see what I mean.” He kissed her ear “Its people are incredible and very friendly. It also has one of the best musical scenes in Scotland. I used to go to so many concerts.” “Did you regret going away?” “I…” he paused “I adore Glasgow. It has a special place in my heart, but I missed the islands. I could not see myself living in a big city no matter the advantages.” “You accent has changed a bit.” Rowan laughed hard “I ken. After four years of uni here I had lost my islands accent and I did sound like a proper weegie.” “A what?” “A weegie is someone fae Glasgow.” And in that moment she heard the heavy shift in his accent. Aelin finally sat back up “come on weegie, let’s go and see this uni of yours.” Rowan stood and pulled her to him for a kiss “it means a lot to share all of this with you.” She smiled “I am just trying to imagine a younger you in this environment.” He took her hand and slowly they started walking towards the university. “One step at a time, the road goes uphill.” Aelin had to stop a lot “drat, this is painful.” She said breathless. “Take your time.” Eventually they made it to the university main building and Aelin sat down on one of the benches in the main courtyard “Let me take a breath and then I will be ready to admire this beautiful place.” He kissed her head “all the time you need.” He stood in front of her “I have a few ideas for the rest of the day. It’s still quite early so we can do the uni. Then how do you feel about the Science centre? We can go there by public transport.” “In London I was obsessed with he national science museum. So, yeah, I am all for it.” “Then we can have a short walk along the Clyde just to show you and then take the bus back into town.” He brushed her hair “We can have lunch. Are you still craving Korean?” Aelin nodded vigorously. “Good, a restaurant might not cause any issues because I assume they know how to cook it. There is an incredible one in the centre.” “Done. What else?” “There are a few options and it all depends on how you feel.” “Unless I have to climb another mountain I am fine.” “So no Necropolis, then. We can stroll around Buchanan st. you can also do some shopping if you’d like. We can visit the merchant quarter which is quite charming and very central as well and if we are lucky we can catch a tour of Glasgow City chambers which is basically the HQ of Glasgow city council but it’s a spectacular building.” He offered “or we can go to Waterstones.” “Whitethorn, you are setting foot in a chain?” Aelin had quickly learned that Rowan was a great supporter of independent shops. Tesco was the only chain they used and just because it was handy for grocery shopping. He was a strong supporter of the community and hated mass produced stuff. “I know, but I love it. I must admit it’s a guilty pleasure. But it’s still books. Uh, I forgot, there is also a Lego store in one of the shopping centres.” “Ok, let’s visit the uni, then go to the science museum and take a walk along the river. Once we are in the centre we’ll have lunch and we go from there. But I definitely love the bookshop idea and the lego store.” “Good.” She gave him her hand and he took it and helped her get up “are you sure?” “Yes, I am rested enough.” They started walking along the uni quadrangles and Aelin had a feeling of being back in time. The building was magnificent and Rowan was playing cicerone and telling her all about every single building they were meeting. Then he stopped and placed his hands on her eyes. “What are you doing?” “Surprise.” He pushed and she started walking under his guidance. Once he was in the spot he wanted, he removed the hands and Aelin gasped. “Welcome to the cloisters.” The cloisters were nothing but low arches, but surrounded by the rest on the ancient building, they appeared like a wonderful and magical place. “This is gorgeous.” She walked around in a daze admiring he site “this is such a magnificent place where to get married.” Aelin took a few pictures and Rowan took a few of her while she was wandering around. She had the most amazing expression of delight in her face. She moved to him and folded her arms around him as much as the bump allowed it “dance with me.” He kissed her and his arms reached around her back and started swaying a little and humming a song in her ear. Luckily they were alone and they were not giving anyone a show. “It feels like the perfect place from a fantasy novel. I don’t know why.” “I always thought it like the main path to the house of an old wizard secretly living in the uni grounds. The kind of place where you would see people in dark cloaks strutting about or a couple of knights.” “I love that your mind wanders in the same places as mine and that we are weird together.” “I love my weirdo.” He said while making her twirl. Then he stopped and bowed to her “my Queen.” Aelin giggled “I really need to find you a sword. One of those fake ones people use for cosplays and such.” He grinned and took her hand “come, there is a place that I am positive you will adore.” She followed him and took a final look at the cloisters and tried to imagine it with a wedding happening under them. “Ok, there are steps unfortunately, but it will be worth it.” “Is it a collection of your pictures when you were a student. Naked ones perhaps?” Rowan laughed “no.” “That’s disappointing.” “It’s my favourite museum of all times. It’s called the Hunterian and there are two rooms that as a doctor I am positive you will adore.” At the top of the stairs Aelin stopped, breathless “I know it’s an historical building, but a friggin lift would be lovely.” He passed the water bottle to her “drink a little.” Once she was done they entered the museum and Aelin gasped. Rowan took her hand “Let’s go to the cool parts first then we’ll do the rest of the museum.” She followed him in silence. They reached a section and Aelin noticed it was all medical based. “This area is basically the history of medicine.” “No way.” Aelin started to walk around, amazed at what she was seeing “I did an elective on the history of medicine and it was fascinating.” “Ro, this is incredible.” Aelin left his hand and started wandering around in a daze “This is how it all started. How doctors started to discover how to cure diseases, although methods in the past might have been at times a bit unorthodox. This is it.” She kept walking along the cases admiring displays of ancient medical tools. This time it was Aelin’s time to be the guide and she was giving him a run through of what they were seeing. Rowan stared at her in fascination. Her face lit up in a joyful expression while she was admiring the collection. Once they finished the room, Rowan took her to the next surprise. “If you loved the other room, I have a feeling you will adore this one. Mr Hunter had an incredible collection of anatomical and pathological specimen and they were donated to the museum. The others are in the anatomy museum down the road.” “Can we go there, please?” “Of course. I have never been there so it will be a novelty for me too.” Aelin left him at the entrance and stepped into the room. Large glass cases stood all around and in the middle and inside she could see jars with formaldehyde and what she was positive were body parts. “Hunter was a pioneer anatomist and obstetrician. That’s why there are so many foetuses. He studied them and all the pathologies connected.” “Like all interns I had to take anatomy classes and we had to dissect cadavers. I was the only one who actually enjoyed those classes and never puked. I found it always so fascinating and for a while I had even contemplated becoming and pathologist and do post mortem and all that stuff.” “What made you change your mind?” “The rush that I would get in the A&E. I specialised in cardio thoracic and applied it to an emergency setting and I fell in love with it..” She kept walking “This collection is something incredible. Aelin stopped and stared at an heart without any blood in it. Rowan put his arms around her and his chin on her head. “A heart without blood looks so weird.” He commented. Aelin chuckled “I will never forget the day I held a beating human heart in my hands for the very first time.” “Tell me.” “I was assisting my mentor and he left me perform the surgery under his supervision. We knew there was damage but there was so much blood that it was impossible to see anything. So very gently I took the heart in my hand to try and find the damage. It was warm and beating, albeit slowly, against my palm. I literally had someone’s life in my hands.” “You are such a badass.” He joked. Aelin was explaining something to Rowan when a group of teenagers came beside them and the girls started to complain that the displays were disgusting. “What is this.” Asked one of the teens pointing at the jar with an empty heart that Aelin had just finished to admire.” “Looks like a lump of flesh.” Said one of them. “It’s a heart.” Aelin corrected him “That’s how a heart looks when there is no blood circulating.” She explained. “That is not a heart.” Aelin was on the verge of loosing her patience and Rowan placed a hand on her lower back “I am a doctor. I know how a heart looks like.” “It’s disgusting.” Aelin sighed and luckily the group moved away. “What?” She asked when she noticed Rowan’s stare “they ruined my enjoyment of this museum with their stupid comments.” “They were teenagers.” “So what? They were fucking stupid.” Rowan sighed and pulled her to him trying to calm her down “Come, let’s go and see the piece of a meteorite that landed near Glasgow.” They went to see the meteorite and then finished the rest of the museum but did not spend as much time on the displays as they did for the medical part. Aelin was fretting to go to the Anatomy museum so they headed out and Rowan took her there. If she had been impressed by the collection inside the Hunterian, Aelin had been definitely in love with the anatomy museum and Rowan allowed her to take all the time she wanted. Aelin also ended up chatting away with one of the staff members at the museum and Rowan had enjoyed seeing her so animated. “Did you had a nice chat?” He asked when she finally came back to him. “The guy is a retired doctor and we had the most fascinating conversation, sorry.” He kissed her gently “don’t apologise. It was actually quite amazing to see you in your element and there are conversation I can’t have with you because I don’t have the knowledge so it’s nice to see you so involved.” “I like our conversations,” she leaned forward and kissed him back “very much.” Once outside the university they went to take the underground again and they headed for the science centre. Once they arrived Aelin squealed “what is that?” She asked pointing at the metallic dome near the entrance. “That’s a cinema. They also have a planetarium.” “Shall we go?” “If they have a show while we are here, we can definitely do that.” “Come on.” Aelin took his hand and dragged him inside and she bought the tickets for both. They ended up spending a few hours inside the centre, playing with all the installations and once it was time they also did manage to catch a show inside the planetarium. “This was so fun. Who said that these places are just for kids?” Rowan threw an arm around her “can you walk a bit? I was thinking of taking you along the Clyde up to the squinty bridge and then catch a bus into town.” “Squinty?” “Yes, as in not straight. You will see why.” The day was hot and nice and Aelin lifted her head up to catch the sunshine and she felt amazing. They stopped in front of a massive crane. “This is the Finnieston crane.” Rowan added pointing at the massive construction “It’s the last vestige of Glasgow’s shipbuilding past. It’s quite iconic.” Aelin lifted her head. “It’s massive.” “It was used to load cargo on the ships. It had to be.” “I love it.” Then she looked around and noticed the bridge “Is that the squinty bridge?” Rowan nodded and they walked there and Aelin took a lot of photos. They walked to the bus stop and on the bus a lovely woman stood and offered her seat to Aelin since the bus was packed and Aelin was incredibly grateful. She wanted to keep exploring but her back was killing her and welcomed the chance to sit down. Rowan stood at her side and his hand brushed her hair “you are tired.” She shook her head “Please, let’s not go back to the hotel, I am having so much fun.” He sighed “are you hungry?” “Starving and really thinking about Korean food now.” He smiled back at her. After ten minutes he helped stand “That’s our stop.” Aelin turned to the woman “thank you so much for the seat.” The two got off the bus. The city centre was completely different from where they had been all morning. She could definitely tell they were in a busy city. “Let’s get you fed.” Rowan crossed the street and she noticed that the restaurant was just opposite them. They entered and asked for a table for two. Aelin looked up and noticed colourful umbrellas hanging from the ceiling. They sat at their table and Aelin went for the menu. She was ready to eat an elephant. She eyed some of the dishes the waiters were holding and she was tempted to steal one. They all looked so delicious. They ordered and then Aelin put a hand on Rowan’s “thank you for today. I loved all we did so far.” “I am glad you are having fun.” He squeezed the hand back “how are our two girls doing?” Aelin patted her bump “Just swimming about. I can feel them move and they kick from time to time which is a good sign.” He winked at her and in that instant the waiter arrived with their food and Aelin almost howled in joy “Finally.” “It looks much better than what I did.” “Yours was really good too.” His face saddened “So good that made you unwell.” “Ro, we don’t know. Stop moping. I loved it.” They went back to eating and Aelin was enjoying the food greatly “I think the only thing that I miss in the islands it’s the choice of ethnic restaurants. That’s my only issue.” Rowan chuckled “I agree. I was so used to the massive variety here in Glasgow that when I got back home it took me a while to get used to it. That’s why I learned to cook.” “And you are amazing at it. Just less veggies.” Rowan laughed “no chance.” “Spoilsport.” They finished eating and hand in hand Rowan led Aelin through the street of the city centre and they ended up in the merchant quarter and Aelin took in the magnificent architecture. “There is a big shopping centre, fancy doing some shopping?” “A bit.” He kissed her cheek “Let’s go.” They walked a short distance and eventually arrived at the Buchanan galleries. “You don’t like shopping centres…” “Shhh.” He said kissing the back of her head while on the escalator “There is the lego shop in here. Plus it makes you happy, so I don’t care.” They reached the first floor and they started walking and Aelin stopped when she noticed a baby shop “Ro, look.” She took his hand and dragged him inside “We don’t have anything for the twins. I know we are waiting for the bigger items until we are in the new house but look…” and she picked up a onesie “isn’t this adorable?” Rowan was too busy playing with a soft toy in the shape of an elf. With a big smile he turned to her “what about this?” Aelin stared at that giant of a man holding a soft toy with a tenderness that almost made her cry. Aelin went to grab a basket “make it two” she went browsing around the shop and her heart melted at watching Rowan picking up clothes for their girls. He came back with two tiny bathrobes that had cute ears and a dragon’s back ridge “I am so in love with you right now.” Aelin moved to him and gave him a quick peck on the cheek while Rowan replied with a big toothy grin. She was positive they could get stuff for the girls at home but that shop had the cutest stuff and Aelin had every intention to splurge a nice whack of money on their daughters. She wandered around and got some essential stuff while Rowan was still looking at tiny dresses. He went to her with a big smile and two lovely dresses in his hands “I know they will outgrow them very quickly, but look at these.” His voice was the one of a father already madly in love with his daughters. He was holding two lovely dresses in green. “Add to the basket.” Was Aelin’s response at the clothes. Rowan took the basket from her hands which was slowly getting fuller and fuller “I’ll carry it.” “We have a green and blue theme going on here.” Added Aelin looking at the range of stuff in their basket. “They are lovely colours.” “I agree. And I am not buying pink just because they are girls. It’s a horrible colour.” Eventually they made it to the till. “You have a nice selection here.” Said the woman behind the counter “And two of each.” “Yeah, twins.” Added Aelin patting her bump. Rowan was about to pay but she stopped him “this is on me.” He reluctantly put his wallet away. Rowan grabbed the two bags and they left the shop, and Aelin was beaming and placed an arm around his waist. Then she spotted the lego store and Rowan knew he had lost her. She was inside the shop and was looking at the different set “Ro, am I crazy if I say that I want to spend my entire salary in here?” Rowan laughed “no you are not, but remember that we have to get back to the hotel and we already have two bags full of stuff.” “Look.” She pointed at a plastic container in the middle where you could create your own lego figurine. “Let’s build ourselves out of lego.” Aelin did manage to find the face, the hair and the dress she liked and she went for the queen style. Once she was finished she started creating a Lysandra and then an Aedion. And while she had already created three figurines, Rowan was still creating his. He had gone for the warrior look and also added a sword to his little character. “I love it.” She said, then placed the four figurines in the plastic container to protect them. She went to pay and he finally managed to drag her out and she sat on one of the benches exhausted. “We should go back to the hotel.” He commented when he noticed how tired she looked. “I agree. I don’t think I can walk any longer and my back is killing me.” “Sit five minutes then we’ll go and take the bus back and I am going to explain the situation to the hotel and ask if they let us order in.” His hand brushed her hair “we can stay in bed, watch tv and enjoy the evening in peace.” Then he looked at her exhausted face “ Or, I have a better idea. The station is right behind us. We’ll take a taxi.” “I love you.” Slowly they made their way to the station and got a taxi and once inside Aelin sighed relieved. She had tried to be brave but she knew she could not fool him. Rowan had been keeping an eye on her all day and she was positive he had noticed her exhaustion. They arrived at the hotel and Rowan grabbed all the bags “go upstairs, I’ll be with you in a minute.” She nodded and left him. Back in the room she removed her trainers with a sigh of relief and then changed into her pyjama and sat down in bed. It was only five in the evening and she felt bad at being back in the hotel already but she was wiped. Rowan arrived ten minutes later, he dropped the bags on the corner of the room and sat beside her “tell me what you fancy and I’ll order dinner later. I explained to the hotel your situation and they are okay. They offered to let us one of the table downstairs but I explained that you were probably already camped in bed, with little chance to move you again.” She kissed him “can we have Japanese?” “You can’t have sushi, you know?” He added, browsing for a place on his phone. “I know, smartass.” She lightly punched his shoulder. The food arrived an hour later and Aelin ate in bed, with Rowan sitting on the armchair beside the bed. “This is the perfect ending to a lovely day. I am sorry we had to cut it short.” She apologised. “Hey…” he said, grabbing her hand “I am impressed that you lasted that long. “I wanted to see more.” He placed his food on the nightstand and sat beside her in bed, pulling Aelin to his side “We’ll come back with the twins and do much more.” “Promise?” He kissed her “Pinky promise.” And he gave her his pinky, remembering the day they did that in his shop. It just felt so long ago. Once done eating, Rowan cleared the containers and changed into his pyjama and joined her in bed. Aelin was looking at the photos of the day on her phone. She flipped through them and found one of Rowan she liked “I guess I found my new home screen picture.” He leaned over and noticed his photo “When did you take it?” “When you were not looking. And I love it.” Aelin leaned against him and she grabbed his hand and moved it on the bump and sighed. “What?” “I was thinking.” “That’s very dangerous.” He chuckled. “Look how much difference a year made. A year ago I was just an annoying customer that you hated and kicked out of the shop. And now we are in this situation.” She said pointing at the bump “and a part of me is still scared. With Chaol we had no kids, yes it was a mess but at least we had no kids to suffer in midst of everything. If—“ He stopped her with a kiss “No ifs. No.” He kissed her again “I am going to be cheesy, so be prepared.” And Aelin laughed at the comment. “You are it for me. I have no idea what the future holds for us, but I know that all I want is to spend it with you and our girls. It’s all I ask for. I want a family and I did not realise just how much until you told me you were pregnant. Fine, it happened earlier than probably both of us had planned, but I don’t care. We are in our late thirties, we both have jobs, we can afford a family.” Aelin caressed his face. “I lost track of what I was saying.” He grabbed her hand a pushed it against his cheek “Oh yes, I am a boring monogamist old man who feels very fulfilled at the idea of having a family with the woman he loves.” Aelin started crying “You can’t…” she sobbed “You can’t say things like that to a pregnant woman.” Rowan laughed and hugged her close “I am a sappy old fart when I am in the right mood.” “So sappy.” She added with a wet laugh while Rowan kissed her head “but I have a feeling you will be a super dad. Loving and caring.” “I can only try.” “We’ll try… together.” “To whatever end.” He added, kissing her.

TAG:

@rowaelinismyotp​

[underthewingsofthblackeagle]

Foto: Panorama Helsinki / Finland - Dom und Parlamentsplatz (by tap5a)

“We only do this for Fergus!” is a short Outlander Fan Fiction story and my contribution to the Outlander Prompt Exchange (Prompt 3: Fake Relationship AU: Jamie Fraser wants to formally adopt his foster son Fergus, but his application will probably not be approved... unless he is married and/or in a committed relationship. Enter one Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp (Randall?) to this story) @outlanderpromptexchange​

Chapter 1: Life offers you many surprises

Berlin, Französische Straße Friday, 25 July 2025, 8.50 a.m.

         Five minutes earlier, Claire Elisabeth Beauchamp had entered the large, light gray house, built in the neo-Renaissance style that dominated the whole Forum Fridericianum. In the lobby, which was dominated by marble and dark wood, Claire was greeted by a receptionist. She was asked to sit down for a moment in one of the dark leather armchairs, of which four were grouped around an elegant round table. As she waited, her eyes wandered up the high walls of the entrance hall. A few steps of a staircase led out of the hall through a large glass door that ended in a round arch at the top, reminiscent of a gate entrance. Above it was a large ornament of dark stones inlaid in the light marble. The ornament showed a circle, which, as it seemed, was formed from a belt. The words "Je suis prest" could be read in the curve of the circle and in the center of the ornament was the head of a stately stag, which looked directly at the observer.

“Französische Straße Berlin” by Jörg Zägel / CC BY-SA (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0)

         Claire knew that the French motto meant "I am ready!", but just as she was wondering what the sign meant, an older lady approached her. She introduced herself as Mrs. Fitz-Gibbons. This employee, whose blue costume gave the impression of a uniform, led Claire down various small staircases and long corridors to the room where she was now sitting. Wherever they had gone in this house, it had been extremely quiet. The heavy, dark red carpets that covered all the stairs and hallways, had swallowed every sound of their footsteps. Now she sat in a room whose furnishings were characterized by dark wood and light brass and whose dimensions were more like those of a hall. But it was the antechamber of the CEO’s office of "Fraser & Son International" and behind the large double-winged door that Claire was now looking at was the study of Dr. James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser, one of the country's leading business owners.         Until two weeks ago, Claire did not know the man's name or that of his company. She didn't care about the gossip press, which also reported on the local "high society" in Berlin. But then Geillis Duncan, her best friend, came by one evening and showed her a job ad from the "Wirtschaftswoche" newspaper. At first Claire was completely surprised. How did Geillis, who loved to read the gossip press, come to show her an ad from Germany's leading weekly magazine for managers?

         "Dave left it on the kitchen table, and since I didn't have anything else at hand, I looked into it while having breakfast. But now take a look at this job ad!"

Geillis had emphatically pointed to an ad that featured the same ornament as the one she had seen in the lobby.          Claire had started reading. A pedagogically trained caregiver was needed for an almost seven-year-old child. The woman should speak fluent German, English and French. Further foreign language skills were welcome but not required. Furthermore, an extensive general education and an impeccable curriculum vitae (i.e. no entries in the Federal Central Crime Register) were expected. Special emphasis was placed on the knowledge and practice of the literature written by Adolph Freiherr Knigge. Three times the current monthly salary was offered, 30 days paid vacation, free board and lodging, private health insurance 1st class.

         "Just imagine Claire!" the girlfriend had exclaimed enthusiastically, "If you got this job and worked there for a few years, all your problems would be solved!”

         Geillis was right, well, almost. Surely not all her problems would be solved. But the financial problems she had to deal with could at least be significantly reduced by this job. She had to acknowledge that and so Claire, Geillis and her friend Dave met that very evening to write a letter of application. Dave, who worked for a large media company at Potsdamer Platz, immediately agreed to help her with his knowledge. The next day, Claire had sent off the application. Then she had bought an updated edition of "The Knigge" and started reading it. Shortly after, Geillis came and brought her a large pile of current newspaper clippings so Claire could learn all she needed to know about the person of James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser and the family business he ran.

         She learned a lot about the company from various business magazines, but the person of James Fraser seemed almost like a phantom. It seemed to her that this man also didn't care about the so-called "high society" and obviously he didn't deliver any headlines to the gossip press. There was neither an article about him nor a photo of him on the company's homepage. Even a Wikipedia article with his name only gave the basic data (birthday, place of birth, family, studies) and otherwise dealt more with the globally active company. "Fraser & Son International" was one of the few family-owned companies that to this day had no shareholders and, having invested in a wide range of economic sectors, not only survived the financial crisis of 2008 well, but had even emerged from it stronger. In this Wikipedia article, however, there was a photo by James Fraser. It showed him with a group of business leaders at a national conference. However, this picture was over eight years old and also very pixelated. At some point everything turned in Claire's head and she hoped that she had not learned all this information for nothing. If she would at least be invited for a job interview.          Ten days later, she hadn't dared to hope that she would ever hear of Fraser & Son International, and to her surprise, her smartphone rang just before the lunch break began. A Dr. Ned Gowan called on behalf of the company, explained that he was the lawyer for "Fraser & Son International" and asked if she could come for an interview at the company's headquarters two days later at 9:00 am. She told him that she had to ask her department head to give her time off first and would call back. As the summer vacation period was over, it was no problem to get a day off and so she called Dr Gowan fifteen minutes later and agreed to meet him (and Dr. Fraser!) two days later. Claire had to be extremely restrained not to cheer out loud. This would have immediately drawn the attention of her colleagues in the department, and she definitely did not want to tell them about it. During lunch break, she left the clinic and sat down on a bench in a nearby park. From there she called Geillis and told her the good news. Right after the end of her shift, the friends met in the parking lot of the clinic to go into town together and pick out a suitable "outfit" for Claire's job interview. Geillis, who had worked as a freelance fashion consultant for many years before she met "the rich Dave", dragged her friend directly to the fashion department of the KaDeWe. There, after a while, they found a muted dark green business costume that emphasized Claire's figure but still looked respectable.

“Kaufhaus des Westens (KaDeWe) - Foto by Avi1111 dr. avishai teicher / CC BY-SA (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0)

         "That's perfect," exclaimed Geillis as Claire stepped out of the dressing room.          "Yes, perfectly too expensive for me. Have you seen the price?"          "Don't worry about that," Geillis replied. Then she whispered:          "I'll pay for it. If the job doesn't work out, we'll just give it back afterwards. And if you get the job and want to keep it, you'll give me the money back when you get your first salary.”

         They bought the costume and also a matching blouse and shoes. Claire was not allowed to think about the amount of money they had spent within a few hours or she would get sick.          But that was all forgotten at that moment. Now it was time to concentrate and make a good impression.          Mrs. Fitz-Gibbons had led her into this room and instructed her to use one of the twelve large brown leather armchairs. With the words          "You will be called in when it is your turn,"          she had said goodbye.          Claire had taken a seat and scanned the room as inconspicuously as possible. Seven other women sat in leather armchairs of the same type, which were set up on three side walls of the room, each separated by a small table. On the tables were glasses and bottles of mineral water, but none of the other women had made use of them. Claire had not intended to drink anything either. She was far too excited to drink, and she was afraid that she might have to go to the bathroom in the middle of her upcoming job interview. Slowly, her gaze wandered across the light-colored carpet to that large, two-winged mahogany wooden door. On each of the wings was a coat of arms, divided into four sections. On the upper left and the lower right quarter were three white flowers on a blue background. The upper right and the lower left quarter each showed three red, pointed crowns on a white background. Behind this door, Claire assumed, must be the director's room. What would she expect there? She did not know. Why had she only gotten involved in this thing that Geilis Duncan had suggested to her? Out of desperation? She wasn't sure. Only one thing was sure: she had never thought that she would have to have another job interview at the age of almost 30. But that was her life. Much of what had happened in her life had not been planned, nor had she ever expected her life to be like that.          Claire Elisabeth Beauchamp, almost divorced Randall, had lost her parents in a car accident when she was five years old. For the next fifteen years she was raised in the loving care of her uncle 'Lamb'. Dr. Quentin Lambert Beauchamp, an archaeologist and Egyptologist whose research focus was on the Old Kingdom of Egypt and who was highly revered by his students, came to Berlin in 2015, where he taught at Humboldt University in the last years before his retirement. There Claire had also met her future husband, Dr. Frank Randall. He had been assigned to her uncle as a research assistant. Randall had courted her like no man before and they had already married in May 2016. The first four years of their marriage had gone in a way that Claire would still describe as happy today. Although, she was no longer quite so sure. What did happiness actually mean? Was there a definition for this term? And even if there was a definition for the term "happiness", was it really valid for all people? In any case, the first four years of her marriage had not been very negative. Together they had made regular trips to Paris, Madrid, Prague, Budapest, Dubrovnik, Palermo, Venice, Turin, Marseille, Amsterdam, Florence, Milan, Barcelona and Bruges.

“Palermo/Sizilien” by  nataliaaggiato 

         Claire enjoyed getting to know these cities and experiencing their cultural particularities. When Lambert Beauchamp died unexpectedly in February 2019 as a result of a stroke, Frank had been kind and, in her opinion, very sensitive to her needs. But in the spring of 2020, a strange development had set in with him. At first Claire had blamed it on the effects of the corona pandemic. After the start of the lockdown, Frank was mainly at home, giving lectures via Zoom and otherwise writing a new book on the history of the Scottish Jacobite uprising in 1745. Claire, on the other hand, was working as a nurse in the children's clinic of Berlin's Charité hospital, as she had been before the crisis. Frank had insisted that Claire should give up her job. The possibility that she could become infected with the virus seemed too high to him. But Claire could not bring it over her heart to leave her fellow nurses alone, especially in such a severe time, and thanks to the strictly observed precautions she got through this difficult time without any problems. While she could be happy about the successes in her profession, the problems in her marriage with Frank seemed to become bigger and bigger. At some point, she felt that Frank was becoming more and more monosyllabic and that they were drifting apart rapidly. But evem then she thought this was a temporary phase that would end after the pandemic at the latest. At least she hoped so. When a vaccine against the virus was finally found in July 2021 and became available in December 2021, Claire breathed a sigh of relief. She and Frank would get vaccinated and then they could travel again. This would change Frank's mind and make her marriage blossom again. But it all turned out differently. Once they were vaccinated, Frank suddenly didn't feel like traveling anymore. Again and again he put off his work. Regularly he worked until late at night at the university and sometimes he spent whole nights there. It was always about important analyses, which he published in specialist publications and for which there were tight deadlines. Even on evenings when Claire was off, he was rarely at home, and whenever she tried to initiate a little marital tenderness, he was too tired for that. In the spring of 2022, they had slept together for the last time. A few months later, Frank had stopped kissing her goodbye, as he usually did when he left the house.          What happened then had the potential to throw her completely off track. By the fall of 2022, a hunch that Claire had suppressed again and again had been confirmed. Frank had a mistress. When she returned from her work at the children's hospital one evening in October, she saw Frank saying goodbye to a slender blonde at the door of their shared house, kissing her intensely. She stood there frozen. Everything inside her urged her to turn around and run away. But then the anger that built up within her gained the upper hand. Like a burning ray that shot out of her stomach through her whole body, he took a breath. She ran to the front door, unlocked it and found Frank standing at the sink in the kitchen, where he was just rinsing out two wine glasses. He turned to her in surprise, but before he could say a word, Claire's purse hit him in the left half of his face with full force. Frank had lost his balance and had fallen over. His glasses had come off his head and had broken when he hit the kitchen floor. Claire no longer knew what insults she had used to call him. Frank had picked himself up and collected the parts of his glasses. He had not even set out to explain the situation or apologize.Claire would not have listened to him either. She had turned on her foot and had run into the shared bedroom. When she arrived there, she had taken Frank's bed linen, run back downstairs with it and threw it all into his study. Then she ran back into the bedroom again and locked herself inside. She did not know how long she had cried angrily. But before she had fallen asleep, she had made a plan. The next morning she went on the morning shift. During a break she called a lawyer and that same afternoon she went to see her to discuss the formalities of a divorce.

“Brille” by  jottbe

         Frank had had the injuries Claire had inflicted on him treated, but had not reported them to the police. It was only later that he let it show that he had orchestrated the whole situation. He had simply been too cowardly to have a conversation with her about a divorce, as two adults normally do. He probably wanted to make her feel guilty, too. Claire was convinced of that, at least. Frank had always been against her going back to work. When she accepted the job at the children's hospital a year after their wedding, he had expressed himself very negatively about it. What kind of impression would it leave on his colleagues if the wife of a prospective professor went to work? And in the last year of their marriage he had not missed any opportunity to tell her how much he felt neglected.            It took three months before Claire was able to move into a small room in one of the Charité nurses' homes. During these three months she did everything she could to avoid Frank as much as possible. Anything she couldn't take with her to the nurses' home, she stored in her friend Geillis Duncan's basement. Claire hoped that the divorce would be finalized in October 2023 after the obligatory year of separation and that she could finally start a new life. But this time, too, everything turned out differently than she had hoped.          It was a rainy autumn day in September 2023 and it was to be the last day in the life of Dr. Frank Randall. On a country road near Lübeck, where he had attended a conference for historians, Frank's car skidded for some unknown reason. The car broke through the barrier and then came to a halt in a field. There it was discovered the next morning by a farmer. When the police arrived at the scene of the accident, Dr. Frank Randall was strapped in the seat belt and sat in the driver's seat as if nothing had happened. He was uninjured and even still wearing his hat. But Frank Randall was dead. An autopsy performed later revealed that Frank had had a heart attack that caused him to lose control of the car, causing it to veer off the road. It was, as the police later said, very lucky that no other car had been hit. Claire was shaken.

“Lübeck”  by scholty1970 

         But an even greater shock struck her on the day of the reading of the will. On that day, the notary told her that she would not inherit any money, only debts from Frank. Her still-husband had bought a condominium for his mistress for 250,000 euros, which he had signed over to her. For this gift Frank had gone into debt and Claire, who was still married to him by law, inherited his debts. It was one big nightmare. Although Claire had also inherited the rights to Frank's books, these reference books sold only in very manageable numbers and brought in little money. With her salary as a pediatric nurse, it would take her decades to pay off Frank's debts. Meanwhile, Sandy Travers, this  bleached ...., was sitting in her apartment, probably enjoying herself with her next lover. Once again the anger about Frank rose in Claire's heart, but before she could think about him any further, a familiar voice tore her from these thoughts. 

[misanthropecopy]

@telekinetiq, @gooselullaby​

         The hour had come.

         With all the time she spent preparing not only did Psyche find a new place to stay, she also completely set up new abode for family. The Mewtwo came up and collaborated with the villagers to create a new system of the island they were staying at. She figured out all the best places they could gather food, in their new home. Finally, she found multiple, backup locations in the unlikely event that Giovanni and Team Rocket would destroy their territory once again. Legendary was NOT going to be caught unprepared, this time. 

         The layout for their new system was a fairly simplistic one, or at least something villagers were faintly accustomed towards. The Zoroark would use their illusionary powers for concealing island completely from humanity’s radars and satellites whenever there were not any real storms going over, while Psyche would make sure to amplify their skills tenfold when amidst new home. No Pokemon was allowed to leave the island unless they asked Mewtwo first and save for some situation where an individual wanted out entirely genetic experiment would take them wherever she went, then keep a telepathic eye on wandering Pocket Monsters when exploring. If in the case of an unlikely event where some person just accidentally stumbles onto their territory they were to be tested as always. Those who weren’t involved in orchestrating these trials would need to keep their distance and if a human failed even once, they were to be immediately subdued until clone teleported them back towards wherever man originated from. Finally, any drones or tracking devices found were to immediately be terminated on SIGHT. No accused device containing surveillance functions was going to enter their sanctum, again.

         It was more of a harsher life, then what the villagers had once known and Psyche did not exactly feel entirely satisfied with choices made herself but they all were pushed towards taking such measures. Besides if anyone scarcely believed this life was meant for them, individuals were free to take their own path and Mewtwo would drop them off wherever they wanted. 

         All the villagers were gathered around Mount Quena’s lakebed, taking one last look at their ephemeral home. It was evident that they had developed some fond memories here, with Stein, his clones and even “Amber”. Even if some had to hold themselves back on their natural instincts, they would never forget this place. Psyche herself would muse over these past, few weeks inside her heart for a long time. Elder clone had granted her a personal mercy, by allowing chosen kin to briefly remain here. Though whenever they spoke towards each other more masculine experiment’s tone often sounded critical, his actions spoke louder then meager words could express. She hoped that... he wouldn’t think less of her, for doing this. 

         Honestly, it was for the best that they leave. Stein was making enemies on so many sides and even those he dubbed allies Psyche knew hardly had his best interest at heart. Elder clone had provoked the dark side to come out from others and younger one wasn’t sure who she could trust outside of family anymore. Additionally though she tried so hard to refrain from getting involved in conflict, more savage-hearted side still leaked through and now newer Mewtwo was URGED on in creating advanced Pokeballs in case a certain, alien species tried invading or destroying planet. She was falling into that Raboot-hole of hypocrisy and more feminine Pokemon felt compelled to leave before villagers were dragged down with her! They had already been through enough, she didn’t want them fighting against Silvally and foul aliens too! Besides it’s not like she failed to inform other genetic legendary about her plans. From the very beginning she stated they would remain until another, suitable home was found. However... there was a possibility his ideas on this arrangement could have changed. Either way, she was not sticking around to find out. 

         Eyes engulfing themselves in a white light, with one broad extension of her arms she teleported villagers and herself to new home. This was the start of a new journey for them; a new adventure, waiting on the horizon. If all went well, the villagers would have a peaceful life here. As she and chosen kin vanished from Mount Quena however, something special was being delivered to Stein’s fortified abode.

         With a flash of bright light, a single flower appeared near each and every one of Stein’s clones. These blossoms shaped similar towards stars contained white petals, which blended into a deep pink at its tips. Golden anther and filament stemmed from their centers, bringing with them a lovely aroma into atmosphere. They were gracideas and Psyche hoped bringing them these gifts would help appease any pain this parting evoked. 

         While each of the clones would receive their own blossom, there were two cases amidst Stein’s family who were especially lavished. Nanako, now called Amber would have many blossoms surrounding her person. Amidst these blooms would be a single note. If the little girl noticed it and picked item up, this is what she would read:

Dear “Amber”, 

I know this may all be confusing to you; having these things suddenly appear before your person, so I will try my best to explain it in this letter.  When me and Myuutsu met and he offered to let us stay with you all, it was only meant to be for a little while. We agreed that we would remain in Mount Quena until I found the villagers a new home. I have since then done that, thus by the time you read this letter the villagers and I will have already left the place. I know you considered us all family and I admit a part of me wishes we can still be that in your eyes, but this is for the best. Don’t be sad though! Life is full of hellos as well as goodbyes. Sometimes things have to change and maybe sometimes they are for the better.  Whatever the case may be, know that we all love you very much and you’ll always be welcomed in our new home. This is why we left all these flowers for you, to show that. Just because we’re far apart now, shouldn’t mean we aren’t family anymore however if you feel differently because of our leaving, I understand.  Finally, make sure to keep a good eye on Myuutsu. If he does anything that worries you, don’t be afraid to tell him about it. Out of everyone else in the world, you will probably be the one he listens to the most. 

Sincerely yours, Psyche. 

         The second person who was given many gifts was surprisingly, Stein himself. In his most private quarters lied a plethora of not only gracidea flowers but lavender as well, all piled together. It was no small present and elder clone would need to lack sight and scent, in order for offering to go by unnoticed. She hoped such displays would be enough for him to acknowledge it, at least. 

         In the center of this mound there was a truly unique blossom, as it was not natural but meticulously crafted out of various gemstones. Shaped similar to the gracidea flowers, its petals were forged from amethysts whilst clear quartz made up the anther. Moonstone strands acted as the filament and magenta-colored metal strapped against sides of petals; seemingly holding small sculpture together. Finally two, green bloodstones were carved as the bloom’s leaves and protruded on its left side. 

         Another written note was right next to this present, if Stein bothered reading it the following words would be seen:

Dear Stein,

You will be pleased to know that I managed to find a suitable home, for me and the villagers. As per the agreement, we are now officially off of Mount Quena. You will not have to worry about us anymore, though if Rocket does stir up some trouble for us again I will be sure to let you know. I did not initially intend to inform you about my discovery through this, as I desired to tell you in person. Then again, you probably realized we were going to leave which is why you left first with your clones.  The things that are coupled with this note are mainly gracidea flowers. They are said to bloom whenever an individual is extremely thankful and are given as a sign of gratitude. Each of your family members have received at least one and your little girl has been given enough for a bouquet or two. The villagers adored her, after all. The pile here however is specifically just for you, as it is a little something from all of us. I understand my family and I have thanked you numerous times verbally, for your hospitality and willingness to put up with what quirks we presented, but words were not enough. Thus we felt compelled to express our appreciation through some gesture, like this. You will also find lavender amongst your pile. This specific blossom grew in our former territory and its scent can be relaxing to where it even helps one sleep better. The gems making up this floret next to this letter are stones that I managed to salvage from the wreckage of my home. They were abundant in the caves there and each jewel is said to enhance a psychic’s clairvoyance, telepathy amongst other abilities. The bloodstone forming leaves in particular is said to protect its owner from evil, which you might need now more than ever.  I will not lie to you, Stein. Everyone is worried for your well-being. The villagers, your clones, your little girl, even I myself have become concerned. I am aware of your strength and you are fully capable of handling yourself, but you have made countless enemies recently and I will be frank that I do not trust your newfound ally one bit. However since I assume you have left us out of whatever negotiations you forged with that individual, I will refrain from delving into that matter further.  I do not doubt that humanity’s time will come, one day. They were erroneous to create sentient entities and then treat said creatures as if we were not alive. Their hubris will undoubtedly lead toward their downfall, in some fashion. I just hope they are not eradicated, while there are still other little girls like yours out there. What I am trying to say is, please be careful and most importantly watch your back. I fear that despite my efforts to crush any knowledge concerning beings like us, a flaw in our design may have been heard by ill-intentioned ears.  I hope that you will stay safe, Stein. I do not wish for your family to possibly loose its protector. I don’t want a young lady to watch the closest thing she has towards a father be seriously wounded or worse. I do not want to see you get hurt, as you have already been through so much. Regardless whatever decision you make, I will try not to stand in your way. Whatever choice you put into action, I know you will do it out of consideration for your family.  The villagers and I will never forget your kindness towards us and I confess that I hope it will not be too forward of me to call you a friend now. If you do not desire for me to regard you in such a way however, I will comprehend it.

Signed, Psyche. 

         It was Psyche’s wish that elder clone and the others might have some gratitude towards this little, grandiose gesture of theirs. She hoped that somewhere inside more masculine clone might at least appreciate the effort, put into it. However she would not set her hopes too high, on the matter. Stein, the clones and “Amber” were their own individuals, thus if any of them reacted poorly towards this she would accept it without protest. 

         She simply had to muster up faith, that they would all be okay. 

[loptyrs-moved]

Can you talk more abt ur fandoms ocs? I like your writing a lot and would like to know more abt em

Oh my goodness I’m 🥺🥺🥺🥺 you’re SO sweet thank you!

Well, I have quite a few and some have their own deeper lore stories that go with them. If you guys want more information on them, I can do separate posts on all of them. But Here they are! I’m so excited to share my babies with you!

More is under the cut. The Picrew I used is here.

Ikemen Revolution

Black Army Side

Corrin Fukui

Age: Appears to be in mid-early twenties

Hair: Brick white

Eyes: Blood Red

Height: 4′11

Any other Qualities:

Draconic features -- She’s literally a dragon but not by nature

Curved Opalescent Horns

Shimmery opalescent tail

Wings that also shimmer in the light

retractable?

Pointed ears

Easily frightened by loud noises and sudden movements

stunted growth

Hoards blankets and comfort items

writes in a journal every day 

its one luka got for her and she refuses to write in anything else. she pours her heart out on the pages, and all her memories

she had a brother! but he passed away because of the magic tower :(

turns into a gIANT DRAGON 

ICE ICE BREATH BABY

Was found by Luka while on a patrol near the forbidden forest, lost and afraid, so she was taken in

Had amnesia at first

She actually is an experiment of Amon and she managed to escape

Excellent at sewing and gardening

Sufficient with baking

She’s for Luka! The way they fell for each other was a slow, gradual trust, and mutual understanding. She saw him as a man, as he was, and nothing else.

Sometimes is called Corri

gentle hearted and innocent

but not as innocent as you’d think 

she’s a dragon, and she’s a greedy little one

Ophelia Dae

Age: 24

Hair: Crimson red

Eyes: Jade green

Height: 5′8

Any other Qualities:

A skilled swordsman, and one of the Chosen Thirteen

9 of Spades baybeee

While she is more accustomed to short swords and sabers, Phelia is a magic user! But she isn’t really in agreement with Ray with his stance on magic

BOMBASTIC AS HELL

BISEXUAL

“Is he bothering you Queen?”

Trans

Was friends with Ray and Fenrir while in school, and was just as much of a hellraiser as them

she was there when the day things went dark happened and was almost taken but that day is a blur for her

phelia REFUSES to talk about it

she still has nightmares

raised by a single mother

TRIVIA! She was an old fire emblem oc i had and she was the daughter of Arvis -- so if you squint when she uses magic you’ll see Valflame

joined the army probably because Fenrir was too, and she was inspired by him 

she joined for her own reasons but he made it easier for her to do it too

his passion was what made her fall for him in the first place

has a personal vendetta against the magic tower for what they did to her and her friends

AND CORRIN JEEZ

will sacrifice herself if necessary to the cause

PROBABLY HAS ALMOST DIED BECAUSE OF IT

Bruh girl

Amira Nasiri

Age: 22

Hair: Chocolate brown

Eyes: Turquoise blue

Height: 5′3

Any other qualities:

My version of Alice! Difference is that she’s Persian

That’s it

She’s just as spunky as Alice 

however she responds with being called Alice a little different

she’s adamant about being called Amira

At some point she just accepts Seth does it to distance himself

also an avid baker like alice

pISTACIOS

BAKLAVA

Amira is just Alice except she’s just my take on her. 

She has the same vibrant spirit as Alice

and I personally consider Seth the canon route for REASONS

just ask me why fjgdfgjksd

Red Army Side

Azul Flores

Age: 25

Hair: Raven black

Eyes: Wisteria purple

Height: 5′0

Any Other Qualities:

An old friend of the Queen of Hearts

like she met him when she was 8 years old

fought his bullies when they would give him a hard time when he was a kid

they dated for a WHILE

did NOT work out

HARD CHILDHOOD

Ambitious, hard working young woman who was married into a high standing family on the Red side. Her mother was a teacher and gained the attention of one of the Chosen Thirteen on that side, and got married

Azul is NOT the officer’s daughter. She’s his step daughter

Has had extensive studies on the History of Cradle and of the Red Territory.

Wants to be a Cradle Historian

Works for the Red Army as a personal assistant to the queen

UNINTENTIONAL

THEY ACTUALLY CANT STAND EACH OTHER

Unless....

Look their story is very dramatic and it hurts me every day so please stay tuned with them. 

CUT THROAT BITCH

YOUR DEVIL

DEMON

Heckles Jonah like its her job — she knows him better than anyone elsd, if anyone knows his bs, its her

Bad resting bitch face

Actually really shy, and quiet when in different surroundings

A sweetheart and will cut a bitch for you once she knows u

She is perhaps one of the most transparent, honest, genuine person. there is no bullshit with her. she will tell you her honest thoughts with you

Cerise Nam

Age: 19

Hair: Berry Pink

Eyes: Petal Pink

Height: 5′2

Any other qualities:

Her mom came to Cradle from a far off place, and set up a food and pastry shop in the Central Quarter. Met her dad. Been there since

They live in Black Territory

She works for her parents and works with the pastries/desserts

loves making desserts from where her parents are from

She knows the Queen of Hearts VERY well since she makes the best mille feuille

Got a job from him actually, and works for the Red Army Headquarters kitchen

Loves to cook and bake!

a little naïve, but she’s a realist

youngest of FIVE kids!!

Morning girl

She may be petite but she can HEAFT heavy bags of flour/rice/dry goods

Met Zero by accident, and crashed into him while in town

love at first sight for her. how can you fault her?

she thinks he’s dreamy... and sweet...

does she flirt with him a little? Cerise can’t help it...

She and Zero have more of a hidden relationship because she fears her parents won’t approve

family stuff -- and she understands

RED ARMY OFFICER?? BLACK TERRITORY GIRL

look im cheesy

dont worry it works out

zero has to consider himself and his own personal stuff too so its a little difficult 

Non Army Suitor(s)

Lucile Lidell

Age: 20

Hair: Straw blonde

Eyes: Aqua blue

Height: 5'1

Any other qualities:

She and her twin, Noelle, are the actual descendants of the original Alice

Inherited unusual hairpins that were from cradle

More of the 'modern woman stuck in the wrong time' kind of gal

Rebellious

Noelle and Luci: partners in crime

Short skirts galore

Does not give a singular shit of what MEN think of her

Wants to be taken seriously

Sometimes acts like an airhead in order to get attention. She's actually pretty somber as a person and prefers to be in the background as her sister takes the stage

loves her sister more than anyone else in the world

When she and Noelle fall into Cradle, they kind of hightail it and live in the woods with Harr and Loki

Sticks with Harr since he's literally the least threatening man ever

First man to feel safe around

"Excuse me he said NO pickles!"

Will cut a bitch for him, or use magic -- luci will hurt someone if they even think a bout looking at him wrong

Loves to make clothes

'I mended the holes in your cloak for you...' 'Bye Harr, be safe and have a good day.'

'Welcome home, I missed you.'

Puts up a tough girl front but she's just a big softie just like him

Doesn't realize she has a crush on him until shit starts to hit the fan

Actually very vanilla tbh but wants to spoil her bf

Ikemen Sengoku

Ito Tsunade

Age: 26

Hair: Straw Blonde

Eyes: Molten Gold

Height: 5′5

Any Other Qualities:

Graduate student at the same university as Sasuke 

got stuck in the storm with him and Mai, and was tossed into the sengoku era

but she got separated from Mai

Met Shingen first much to her luck because uh.... lets say Tsunade is aint the sharpest tool in the shed

HEAD EMPTY

ZERO THOUGHTS

AIRHEAD

her aesthetic when she gets there?

TITS OUT

BIG HONKERS BIG TATA

HOT

her head might be empty but her tits are fat and they will protect you

Music nerd — loves traditional Japanese instruments, especially the difficult ones

Specializes in girl metal in modern day

eventually proves herself and plays some sick chords for the takeda/uesegi forces

she has entertained them for now

puts sake away like a monster

when she meets sasuke, she finds comfort in the fact he’s also lost with her, so she clings

asks him how to protect herself from shingen bc he’s horny lolol

genuinely thinks sasuke is hilarious

also does NOT realize she’s in love with him until the gravest of grave happens

her name was UNINTENTIONAL

Aibana Hinata

Age: Presents in his early-mid twenties

Hair: Black Midnight

Eyes: Haunting gold and vermillion

Height: 5'3

Any other qualities: 

The concubine of Nobunaga

Please know I made him a long while before the other guy was dropped so I’m just gonna offer this little gay boy

Nobunaga bought him from a brothel after being so intrigued by him. Hina entertained him so well that he was set for life

A RIGHT SNARKY BASTARD

HE KNOWS HE’S PRETTY AND CAN GET AWAY WITH MURDER

Likes to challenge Nobunaga in battles of wits

board games

debate as pillow talk

swordplay if the lords will entertain him enough

Bisexual as hell

Gender? Don’t know her

He uses all pronouns

True pronoun: princess

ONLY EXISTS IN A UNIVERSE WHERE THERE IS MAI

Nobunaga/Mai/Hinata........

Unless.......

Smart, and educated

former geisha

he can read! and write!

LOVE FUCKING WITH HIDEYOSHI

if there is mai, he would bond with her like no one else

he would be her best friend

her confidant

genuinely adores her

even if she is pursuing nobunaga, he doesn’t resent her ... he just wishes that she would find room in her heart for him too

puts up a tough exterior

a softie.....

[love-and-monsters]

Wyvern Prince 19

M wyvern X F human, 2,801 words

Davrakoss curled around you, fingers tangled in your hair. His breath tickled gently against the top of your head. Your ear was pressed to his chest, so you could hear the slow, steady thud of his heart.

“Are you sure you’re feeling well?” he asked for the third time in the past hour. His hand moved, drawing his nails lightly against your skin.

“Yes,” you said. “I just… don’t feel like going back to the servant’s quarters.”

Davrakoss made a low humming noise. It rumbled in his chest, under your ear. “Not that I’m complaining,” he said, “but I know that you’re anxious about going back to your own room.” He rolled his golden eyes down to look at you. “Do you want me to walk down with you when you go back?”

“No. That’ll make it worse. I don’t want to get accused of special treatment or something,” you said.

Davrakoss kissed the top of your head. You assumed that was because it was the only part of your body he could really reach in your position. “You are getting special treatment. Unless this is common among servants and I was unaware?”

You snorted. “No, it isn’t. And I know I’m not getting special treatment. I just don’t want other people to think I am. Either they’ll stop talking to me or they’re going to try to get things out of me. Or they’ll just stare and mutter about me.”

“Well, you can spend the night here, if you want. But you probably are going to have to leave eventually.” There was a knock on the door. Davrakoss glanced over, but seemed about to ignore it until the knocking came again, more urgent this time. He sighed and stood up. “I’ll be back in a moment.”

You rolled over and watched as he walked to the door and opened it a crack. He spoke with someone for a moment before he stepped back and closed the door. There was a letter clutched in his hand.

“What’s that?” you asked.

“It’s from my parents,” he said. “A reply.” He sat on the edge of the bed. You leaned over his shoulder as he examined the letter. “Hm.”

“Do they want us to visit?” you asked.

“Yes. They want to discuss our plans for the future.” Davrakoss sighed, tucking the letter back into the envelope. “We’ll have to plan that trip soon.”

“It’s an excuse to get away from here for a little while. Maybe by the time we get back, the dust will have settled a little.” Davrakoss nodded absently, then glanced at the other notification the servant had brought him.

“There’s another note,” he said, unfolding a sheet of parchment. You looked again as he read it. This one was more familiar to you. In spiky, stylized writing, it invited Davrakoss to lunch with the royal family. An odd curdling sensation began in the pit of your stomach. “I’ll have to add that to my schedule,” he said. “It’s in a few days.” He turned his head slightly, catching sight of you. “What’s the matter?”

You felt slightly sick. “I don’t think it’s a coincidence that the Queen wants you to have a meal with her right after we announced our relationship.”

Davrakoss looked between the letter and you. “You think this is because we’re in a relationship?” He sounded skeptical.

“It could be,” you said. “If it ruined some kind of plan she had for you.”

Davrakoss’ lips curled. He held the letter like he was trying very hard to resist the urge to shred it. “Wyvern don’t do political marriages,” he said after a long, tense moment. “I certainly hope she didn’t want me to engage in one.”

“Maybe,” you said. You felt weak and sort of wavery at the possibility that you, a lowly little servant, had managed to upset something the Queen herself had been planning.

“Hmph.” He gave a heavy snort. You weren’t sure, but it looked like a thin trail of smoke had puffed from his nostrils. “Her plan was ruined before it even started, then. As I said, we don’t do political marriages.” He gave a small, wry grin. “If wyverns married people we didn’t like, we would rip each other to shreds.”

You barely suppressed a shudder, and apparently, he noticed because he pressed a shoulder to yours. “Not you. I like you. I was just… most wyverns aren’t skilled at diplomacy,” he finally said. You suspected he was using a judicious amount of tact.

“But you are?” you asked.

“I have to be. It is my job,” he said. He folded the letter and stood, moving to place it on his shelf next to his itinerary. “Regardless of what she wants, we have a few days before I actually have to do anything about it.”

“So, we have a few days to worry about it,” you muttered. Davrakoss returned to bed and lay down, draping an arm over your shoulders and pulling you down so you were lying almost on top of him. He kissed the very top of your head again, molding his body around yours.

“Did everyone ever tell you that you worry too much?” he asked, gently teasing.

“You may have mentioned a few times,” you said. Davrakoss laughed slightly, rubbing his cheek against the top of your head.

“I’m here,” he insisted. “If the Queen wants to split us up, she is going to have to try very hard and it is not going to be easy for her.”

You let your forehead rest against his chest. “And if your parents don’t like me?”

“They will,” Davrakoss said. His voice was utterly sure. “They liked you the last time they met you. They’ll like you now.” He squeezed you, his tail snaking around your waist. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you said.

The day dragged on, the sun shifting lower in the sky and, eventually, both of you were hungry enough that leaving the room became a necessity. For you, at least. Davrakoss gave you a brief kiss before you left the room to fetch his dinner.

It did not go unnoticed that everyone was looking at you. They weren’t staring, exactly, because staring implied that they were looking at you for extended periods of time. Instead, almost everyone went through the same pattern of glance, double-take, a third, furtive look, and a final, fourth once-over as you left. It felt like everyone expected you to have suddenly sprouted horns and a tail, as if entering a relationship with a wyvern made you one by extension.

Whispers followed you. It seemed like every time you passed at least two people in conversation, they would start whispering. Whether or not they were whispering about you was undetermined, but you couldn’t help but feel like you were a subject of more gossip than you cared to be.

It was a five minute trip to get the tray and return to Davrakoss’ room and you were twice as nervous when you returned as when you had left. There was no way you were returning to your room that night. Or going and getting the servant’s meal.

Davrakoss looked up at you as you entered. “Did something happen?” he asked, eyes flicking over your face.

“Not really,” you said, trying to school your expression back into neutrality. Had you really gotten so bad at hiding your emotions? Or had Davrakoss just gotten good at reading them?

“You looked upset.” He stood up. “Are you sure nothing happened?”

“Nothing specific,” you said.

“Nothing specific is not nothing,” Davrakoss pointed out. He ignored his dinner in favor of walking over to you and taking your face carefully in his hands. “What’s the matter?”

“People were staring and whispering about me,” you said. It sounded significantly lamer when you said it out loud than when it was happening. “It was uncomfortable. I’ve always felt like I was good at being a servant, like I was good at kind of blending into the background. I don’t like being the sort of person everyone is talking about.”

Guilt twisted at the edges of Davrakoss’ mouth. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” you said reflexively. “I mean… well, this was going to happen eventually. At least the bandage is off.”

“You don’t look like you’re in much of a mood to be heading back out,” Davrakoss said. You shook your head. “In that case…” He passed over a hunk of bread. “I should share.”

You were grateful that nobles tended to get excessive amounts of food, because it meant you both had plenty to eat. It was better quality than what you would have gotten anyway. And the company was nice.

After dinner, you set the tray outside the door for another servant to take away. When you reentered the room, Davrakoss was rummaging through his closet again. It wasn’t terribly well-organized, but he seemed to know where everything was because he emerged with a white dress after only a moment.

“I though you might want something to change into,” he said when he caught your gaze. “I don’t have much in the way of nightclothes for women, but this should be roughly your size?”

You took it from him and examined it. The material was thin, but very fine and silky. It was slightly too large for you, though. Still, it didn’t look as though it would be falling off you.

“It’ll work,” you decided. “Er. Do you mind if I take a bath?” You didn’t often get hot water and you were going to take advantage of it.

Davrakoss waved a hand toward the bathroom. “If you’d like to.”

You entered the bathroom and filled the tub with warm water. There were a few fancy scents and bubbles in the cabinet, and you dripped a few in before sinking into the water. The gentle, warm water was as soothing against your soul as it was on your skin. The sweet, unobtrusive scent relaxed you and you closed your eyes, leaning back in the tub. You drifted, breathing slowly. The scent was making you a little heady. But that was a problem for a later moment.

You stirred at the sound of knocking. Someone was tapping on the door cautiously. You sat up, trying to get your bearings. Had you drifted off?

“Sara?” The door cracked open as Davrakoss spoke. “Are you all right?”

“Um.” You sank into the water as Davrakoss peeked inside. The bubbles on the water blocked anything untoward, but it was still a little weird to have him in the room with you while bathing. “Y-yes.”

“You’ve just been in here for a while,” he said. Perhaps he had realized that this was a bit inappropriate because the bit of his face that you could he had gone very red. “I apologize for intruding. I’ll-”

“You can stay,” you said. The words came from your mouth almost before you realized you were going to say them. “Um. If you want. I don’t mind you in here.”

There was a moment of hesitation, then the door opened further and Davrakoss stepped inside. His eyes flicked over you for a moment and, when he realized he couldn’t see anything, he relaxed a little. He knelt next to the tub, folding his hands in his lap.

“You look more relaxed,” he said in a gentle voice. “Are you feeling better?”

“Better,” you said. “Not great, but better.”

Davrakoss tugged his fingers through your hair, gently untangling the snares that had formed. “It may be selfish of me, but I am glad you’re staying with me tonight.”

“You are?”

“Mmhm.” He stood up and fetched a large brush from the cabinet before kneeling next to you again. “I enjoy being around you.”

You felt your face warm a little as he started to run the brush through your hair. His motions were a little clumsy, but gentle.

You let him brush your hair until the water started to get cold. “I should probably get out,” you said. Davrakoss nodded. You waited for a moment before clarifying. “Can I have some privacy?”

“Oh!” He started and his entire face went bright red. “Oh, of course.” He was gone in seconds. You gout out and dried yourself off hurriedly, dressed, and emerged into the room.

Davrakoss was lying back in his bed, apparently not entirely recovered from the embarrassment. Pink still sat high on his cheekbones and, when he glanced at you, he didn’t quite raise his eyes to your face.

“I’m sorry about that,” he said. “I… well. I should be used to wearing clothes by now, but sometimes I… forget. I… forgot.”

He seemed to have picked up on the idea that humans didn’t like being seen naked at least, and even if you had been mad, he looked so earnestly upset that it would have been hard to stay so. “It’s okay,” you said. Davrakoss made a noise of relief. You folded your clothes and set them off to one side- you would put them in the laundry in the morning. “Does it feel strange?”

Davrakoss had been flipping through a book and he looked up at your question. “What?”

“Wearing clothes,” you clarified. “Is it strange for you?”

He shrugged. “It’s a little strange, I suppose, but probably not as strange as you think it is.” He lowered the book as you sat down on the bed next to him. “Wearing clothing, especially heavy clothing, feels quite a bit like it feels to have scales. I believe I’ve mentioned before that humans have a keener sense of touch than wyverns?” You nodded. “It’s because we’re covered in such thick armor. Touching something with our scales feels like touching something through cloth.”

“So it feels more natural to wear clothes than to not wear them?”

“Yes and no. I can feel my clothes against my skin, which is not something I can feel when I have my scales. It did take some time to get used to that. I kept feeling like my scales were falling off!” He laughed gently and you laughed with him.

His tail was lying across the bed, close to your legs. On an impulse, you reached down and touched it. Davrakoss stilled, making no move to stop you as you drew your hand along the grain of the scales.

“So, you can’t feel this very well?” you said.

“I can feel it,” he said. “The scales on my tail are some of the lighter ones. If you were to touch me on the back of my neck or my shoulders, I might have some trouble with that.”

“But you can’t feel it well?”

“It feels similar to the way it feels when I do this,” Davrakoss said, and his hand was suddenly resting on your leg. The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end. His hand was only on your calf and there was fabric in the way, but it was very thin fabric and you suddenly felt very aware of him and how close he was.

“Um,” you said and Davrakoss pulled his hand back, fiddling awkwardly with his fingers. The pink was making a reappearance on his cheeks.

“As I said. Less sensitive than actual skin-to-skin contact.” He lay his tail between you, watching as you continued to trail your fingers along the scales. Slowly, his eyes started to drift shut. He sagged on the bed, tail going limp in your hands. For a few minutes, he made a valiant attempt to stay awake, but the continual motion of your hand on his tail seemed to be putting him in a semi-hypnotic state.

When he had sagged into his pillows and seemed to be breathing regularly, you started to get up. He stirred, blinking his eyes open. “Where are you going?” he asked.

“Just closing the curtains,” you said. Davrakoss sat up to watch you, only relaxing when you got back into bed with him. He lifted the thick covers and nestled them in around you. The bed was ridiculously plush and the blankets were heavy. It felt a little bit like the bed was trying to drown you.

Davrakoss seemed entirely comfortable with it and, the instant he was fully under the covers, he attached himself to you. His chin rested on the top of your head, his arms rested around your torso, and his tail was secure around your waist. With a contented sigh, he settled in to sleep.

You rested your head on his chest. It was warm in his embrace and his breath tickled pleasantly at your scalp. His hand moved lazily along your back, relaxing you. Almost before you realized you were falling into it, you were asleep.

[saintheartwing]

Undertales of Friendship: Mettaton Makes A Date

"You're absolutely sure he'd do this kind of thing? I mean..."

"Father, I'm ABSOLUTELY sure."

Mettaton was more than JUST a television star, more than JUST a delightful and charming daytime radio host. No, when he wasn't doing that, he had his own boutique, just like he had his own shop in Ponyville, and on special occasions the big man himself would come into Canterlot to give certain lovely beauties the attention they deserved. The walls were a yellow shade, with regal, splendid ivory tiles beneath and a crystal chandelier hanging above, and a fountain with Mettaton's own body spraying out water in the center of it all, ponies talking to each other as they were waited on by his employees. One of whom, the secretary, walked towards them.

"You're here for your 10:00?" The blue-haired, black-furred stallion asked. His hooves were wrapped in what appeared to be linen bandages, as if he'd endured extensive burns or wounds on them, and he had a lovely-looking necklace with a Chariot wheel upon the silver crest he wore, his dark blue eyes gazing the two over as he politely bowed.

"Why yes, Shinedown. How nice of you to get dressed up in a CAPE." Rarity admitted, clasping her hooves together and smiling warmly at the Changeling-blooded Earth pony. Shinedown was a quarter Changeling, one of his parents a half-breed, and it gave him a deep black, slick sheen to his fur.

"Oh, Mettaton makes all his secretaries wear capes." Shinedown T. Mare remarked. "Not that I mind, actually. Black and red looks good on me." He added as he swept it back. "He insists it will improve morale and make us all look resplendent. Is it working?"

"I'd say so." Rarity said with a smile. "And is that cologne I smell on you?"

"Oh, well..." Shinedown nodded again and slightly blushed. "Also another little touch. The small things all add up." The half-blood intoned before he made his way into a doorway with a glass window at the front in the shape of Mettaton's face. And a few minutes later...

"Ta daaaaaaa!"

Mettaton strode out to greet them, Rarity's father nervously taking off his straw hat as the moustachioed stallion nodded politely at the star of the Underground. And Mettaton was quite...the sight. Distinctly human with flowing black hair carefully stroked in just the right way so as to sexily cover one side of his face, a slender yet mighty body showing off sleek mechanical muscles on a black and purple and pink-armored form. A line ran down one side of his face from his eye, representing a "segment" of his head which, in a pinch, could pop off so Mettaton could pull out some lipstick and facial cream, and of course, the dazzling hot pink pupils...

Yes, Mettaton was indeed a sight to behold.

"Dear Rarity, how good to see you!" He proclaimed, sweeping forward, shaking her hoof. "I've gotten the scented bath and candles all ready for you."

"Then the massage?"

"Without a doubt. My magic fingers can make anyone swoon." Mettaton said, flexing his fingers in the air, as he stuck his tongue out slightly. "And ohhhhh myyyyy. What have we here?" He asked, looking Rarity's father over as the Earth pony visibly blushed, Mettaton shaking his hoof as well. "You must be the stallion who played Magnum, the Pony Investigator. I've seen all of your episodes, good sir, after your daughter sent them to me. A musical murder mystery show...QUITE enthralling if I do say so myself! And you have quite the pipes on you!"

"Ahh, yes. I do. And I was quite the looker in my day." Hondo remarked sheepishly, giving Mettaton a nod.

"You still ARE. And you, good sir, will FEEL like one once more when I'm done with you." Mettaton promised, Rarity giving her father a big hug, purple mane bouncing a bit before she headed into a nearby golden-rimmed doorway, waving goodbye as Shinedown led her to the bath chambers. Mettaton led Hondo into another nearby doorway, where a large barber's chair laid, complete with resplendant royal red cushions, and shelves stuffed with the most delightul scents, shaving creams and other tools of a stylish's trade. "Now please, tell me the occasion! You wouldn't have asked to come with your daughter unless it was something VERY special. I doubt a mere trim is what you want."

"Well..." Hondo sighed wistfully, Mettaton's suave voice beginning to charm him over as he glanced to the side before thinking of his wife and smiling wistfully. Ahhh...his widdle Cookie. "It's my wife and I's anniversary tomorrow. And I wanna look my best for her." He said, as his wife's image flashed before his eyes, and he found himself beginning to softly sing as he put a hoof upon his chest.

"You see sir a man infatuated with love, her ardent and eager slave!

So fetch me the pomade and pumice stone, and lend me a more seductive tone,

a sprinkling, perhaps, of nice cologne, but first sir, I think..."

He rubbed over his chin, and gave a smile.

"A shaaaaaave."

"The closest I ever gaaaave." Mettaton agreed, helping Hondo into the chair as he began to cheerily whistle.

"You're in quite the merry mood, Mettaton." Hondo admitted as Mettaton put some shaving cream upon the stallion's face in just the right places after draping a cover over the pony to keep anything from dripping down.

"Tis your delight sir, catching fire from one man to the next!"

"How good that love can still inspire a man to sing like heavenly choirs, what more than Love could man require?"

"More than love, sir?"

"What's that?"

"Women!"

"Ah, yes, women..."

"Pretty women..." Mettaton sighed wistfully, clapping his hands, one of them shifting into his arm before becoming a swiss-army-knife of contraptions that shifted from a can opener to a frying pan to, at last...a shaving razor as he carefully began to trim the little hairs that were threatening to become a beard on Hondo, soon moving on to a careful trim of the moustache before it was time to take care of the mane.

"Pretty women...fascinating...sipping coffee...laaaaughing! Pretty women...are a wonder...pretty women!"

"Sitting in the window or standing on the staaaair! Something in them...chiiiiills the aaaaaaair!"

"Have you ever met a special someone?" Hondo inquired.

At this, just as he was snipping at the pony's mane, Mettaton flinched a bit, the scissor-hand he now trembling slightly as a realization sadly sank in. No. No, he hadn't, except for maybe...

"There was something of a time when I thought maybe..." Mettaton began to quietly murmur. "...but that was a long time ago. She has a girlfriend now."

"Ahh. Guys don't do no more for her, huh?" Hondo admitted with a sigh. "Who is it?"

"Undyne."

"Oh. OH!" Hondo's eyes widened in surprise at this as Mettaton got back to clipping his hair. "Her? Wow. Isn't she currently head of Asgore's Royal Guard? She must have hundreds of men who'd want to go out with her."

"Oh, they would, and when they heard the news she was taken, it was indeed devastating, I can tell you." Mettaton remarked with a wry smile, thinking back to when they'd exited the Underground and Alphys and Undyne's first public date, the two sitting happily across from each other in the sunlight on a park bench...

Undyne suddenly noticing very, VERY dejected-looking monsters mournfully gazing at her from across the way.

"Wait, you and...her?" Aaron the Mer-Horse asked, the muscular-armed man stunned by what he was seeing grasping his head in surprise, mouth agape. "But she's got no muscles!"

"Wow, this IS a shock." A stunned bunny monster remarked as he scratched his head, blinking in surprise as Lesser Dog, one of the Royal Guardsman, mournfully groaned, other monsters sighing sadly in regret as they hung their heads, dejected.

"Noooo." Lesser Dog murmured.

"Sorry, guys. I'm taken." Undyne said with a smirk.

"Well this sucks!" Aaron groaned, he and the others all nodding in agreement, their frustrations clear as day.

"Well I never thought it'd end like this...just because I got no tits!"

"I'll shave my legs!" Bunny Boy begged, lifting up a pant leg.

"I'll wear a bra!" Aaron offered.

"I'd even cut my penis off for you!" Lesser Dog proclaimed.

"Ohhh, that's so sweeeeet." Undyne admitted as she gave them a nod before shaking her head. "But no, guys. Sorry."

Alphys, of course, could not stop smiling.

"I know how she felt. I've had the "Great and Powerful Trixie" coming on to me for quite some time, ever since I came to your world." Mettaton sighed as he shook his head back and forth. "She's talented indeed but...SOOOO full of herself. I wish someone would knock her off her high horse."

He grinned. "Pun intended."

"She's been that bad, huh?"

"Standing outside my window, playing guitar, launching fireworks..." Mettaton went on as he kept a snip-snip-snipping Hondo's hair. "it was impressive until one WENT RIGHT THROUGH MY WINDOW. And there went the bedsheets. And NOT in the way I wanted!"

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to Mettaton, Rarity knew someone WAS interested in him in that special way. And so as Shinedown lit up some more candles for her in the deep blue bath room, bubbles bouncing about the surface of the water, she cleared her throat.

"How long have you been trying to get his attention?"

Shinedown slightly stiffened. "Um...whatever do you mean?"

"I've BEEN to his store in Ponyville. He has a secretary there too. And they don't wear a cape. Nor do they wear cologne that just so HAPPENS to be Mettaton's favorite brand that he's always wearing for special occasions when he goes to say hi to us in Ponyville." Rarity remarked. "And if that wasn't enough, I could tell from how you talked about him...you're smitten."

"Yeah, well...it wouldn't be the first time the mecretary got the guy. Oh. Wait. It would." Shinedown sighed mournfully as he shook his head back and forth, Rarity easing herself into the bath as she frowned a little.

"You're too hard on yourself, darling. Being a male secretary isn't anything to be ashamed of. We all have to pay the bills. Just because you're one it doesn't mean Mettaton would never like you!"

"My sister Trixie said it was a stupid idea to go for Mettaton. That someone like me wouldn't be able to get him to notice me. That I should play it safe. Besides, not a lot of ponies like..." He cringed. "INKBLOODS like me." He grumbled. "I was amazed Mettaton HIRED me. Nowhere else in Canterlot would take me, I've been bounced out of job after job."

"Trixie T. Lulamooon just doesn't know what she's talking about. As usual." Rarity sighed. "Now I want you to go to him and tell him how you FEEL. Just be HONEST."

"I'll try." Shinedown said, heading out the doorway, his heart aflutter, ready to march into that door, look Mettaton in the eye and-

Uhoh.

"Well, well! Hey there, brother." Trixie said with a little mischievous grin, sitting on the fountain's edge. "I'm here for my 10:15 appointment."

"...you used a fake name just to show up and surprise me at my workplace?" Shinedown quietly asked as Trixie sniffed the air.

"And you're using HIS cologne? You really think you can get him to like you?" Trixie inquired, waving a faint blue hoof in the air before flipping her light blue hair about, Shinedown sighing as he escorted his sister to a nearby chair for her massage. "He's a show biz personality. He would want someone with pizzazz, razzle dazzle. You're just not out there enough. You don't have the theatricality I do. You're not...FAMOUS enough for him to be attracted to you."

"I could get him to go on a date with me before YOU!" Shinedown insisted, now feeling an edge of anger creeping into his voice.

"Oh? Care to bet on it?" Trixie asked, extending a hoof. "You win, you get to have my new, fancy, improved wagon. But if I win, I get to use you in my next stage act for ANY MAGIC TRICK I WANT."

A pause, but then Shinedown took the hoof and shook.

"It's a BET." He insisted, heading off for Mettaton's personal styling room, Hondo walking past him as Mettaton followed after, taking notice of Shinedown.

"Oh! You're looking nice today." Mettaton admitted politely. "And you're smelling nice too."

"Thanks, I actually kinda wanted to talk to you about some-"

"In a minute, deary, I've got customers to cater to. Ta ta for now!" Mettaton said, leaving him behind as Shinedown sighed, Trixie's sniggering echoing not too far away as an Earth pony massaged her calf muscles. How was this going to work?

...

...

...

..."I'll! Be! There! For! You!"

"I wish you'd do the OPPOSITE." Mettaton muttered as he slammed the door to his boutique shut, ignoring Trixie's guitar playing as he clasped his hands over his heads and flopped into a chair, sighing. "WHY does she not go away? It's like she's obsessed with me. I mean..." He put a hand on his chest. "Who WOULDN'T be obsessed with me? But still..."

Shinedown saw his chance. He was the only employee left in the building. Approaching Mettaton, he nervously cleared his throat. "Um...Mettaton?"

Mettaton turned his head. "Yes?"

"Just be honest. Just be honest."

"Uh...you know, I really appreciate you giving me a job here and...you've always been incredibly CONSIDERATE and...what I'm trying to say is..." Shinedown began to say before he flinched, hearing Trixie had gotten out the SPARKLERS and the roman candles outside.

"Awaken, sweet pea, to the morn! And to my love! So crisp! So warm!" She proclaimed.

"Look." Shinedown said, sighing. "I made a bet with my sister Trixie that I'd go out with you first, before she did. And if I win I'm gonna blow up her wagon right in front of her and make her watch."

Mettaton was quiet for a moment. Then...

"Darling!" Trixie proclaimed, sliding through the doors of the boutique, hooves holding up sparklers as magic letters spelled out "Go Out With Me" over her head as she beamed...

Only to see Mettaton had scooped Shinedown up in his arms and the two were grinning stupidly at her. "Oh. Trixie. Your brother and I were just about to get a nice brunch together."

And POOF. The sparklers shut off, Trixie's mouth gaping as the letters above her faded to grey and fizzled out, Mettaton and Shinedown making their way past her. Well. This had been easy!

Or at least, so Shinedown thought.

...

...

...

..."Heh-heh-heh. Whaddya think?" Shinedown asked Rarity as he showed off HIS new wagon, gesturing at it with a hoof, Rarity sighing as she bit into her lip. "I'm going to paint it dark blue to match my eyes."

"You didn't tell him the truth, did you?" Rarity quietly said. It was not a question. It was an accusation, and Shinedown flinched as she looked into his eyes.

"It all worked out in the end, so what's the problem?" The Earth Pony asked the Unicorn as he shrugged a little, walking across the parking lot just outside of Mettaton's boutique to pat the wagon on its side.

"The problem is you weren't honest. I understand telling a little white lie to not break someone's heart. Sometimes people need to do that, despite what Applejack might think. Things like..." Rarity waved a hoof in the air. "Oh, I'm SUUURE she'll grow into that jacket! Oh, THANK you for the sweater, Aunt Gertrude, it's JUST what I wanted, you shouldn't have. You REALLY shouldn't have." She muttered, trailing off and glowering slightly.

"I get it, I get it. But it's fine. I'm okay with this." Shinedown muttered, waving a dismissive hoof in the air. "I'll find another time to tell Mettaton how I feel."

"Oh, well he's coming this way now to open up the boutique." Rarity remarked, turning her head as Mettaton strode along the sidewalk, humming and singing a little to himself as he had some headphones on, eyes closed as the sun reflecting nicely off his abs. Ohhh. Those abs.

"Well you can tell by the way I use my walk, I'm a woman's man! No time to talk!"

"Ohcrapcrapcrap-uh...I...um..."

Shinedown then did something very stupid, quickly shoving the wagon behind the boutique, then racing to the front door to wait for Mettaton as Rarity stood in shocked silence. "So! Did Trixie give you the wagon?"

"Um...n-no, actually, she...she said she wanted proof. She wanted to see us go on an actual date. Tonight, at eight. That way she'd KNOW we're doing it." Shinedown said quickly, throwing up his arms in a shrug. "Ahh, family. Whatcha gonna do?"

"I know how you feel." Mettaton sighed. "My cousin, Napstablook, could get kind of like that. Only he's more passive-aggressive than aggressive-aggressive like your sister is."

"Wait, Napst-" Shinedown blinked slightly. "Then...is your name not really "Mettaton"?" He found himself asking. "Is it a "Blook"?"

"Well, yes. It's Hapstablook, but, uh...don't tell anyone." Mettaton admitted, putting a hand on his chest. "I kind of chose this new name when I got my new form you see before you." He intoned, feeling over his chest and grinning in delight. "I was reborn, as it were. A new me! My old name's deeply personal, not just for anyone to know."

"I understand. So, um...tonight at eight? The nice new "Canterlot Cusine" place they opened up?" Shinedown offered.

"Absolutely. But come, come, we've customers to prepare for!" Mettaton insisted, opening up the doors to the boutique, Rarity slowly shaking her head back and forth as Shinedown walked inside after Mettaton, sighing in disappointment.

And so, sure enough, at the end of the day the two were sitting at a table with light blue blankets over it, romantic candles lit as Mettaton talked a mile a minute about his family and growing up as a ghost, Shinedown listening all the while as he munched on a breadstick, head bobbing in agreement.

"You would not believe how...how intensely amazing it felt, having a new body. Then again, you're part Changeling." Mettaton admitted with a nod of his head. "So perhaps you might."

"It isn't easy, being a...y'know." Shinedown sighed. "An "inkblood"." He mumbled. "A lot of ponies still don't like Changelings because of what Queen Chrysalis did not too long ago. Not even having a truce with her kinda eases up on that distrust."

"Can you yourself change color? Appearance?" Mettaton asked as Shinedown cleared his throat.

"Well, I can melt into the shadows if I concentrate. But what I'm most good at...is voices, darling." He said, giving Mettaton a grin and pulling off a perfect imitation of the humanoid robot as Mettaton gasped in surprise.

"Oh my! That's simply amazing! Why did you not tell me that you could imitate voices so perfectly?"

A slight shrug. "You never asked." The Earth pony admitted. "I mean, it's not as useful as full changing of your body, it's mostly just a party trick."

"Well, I think it's very impressive. Can you really do anyone?"

"If I've heard their voice before." Shinedown said, clearing his throat. "Like, for example, Princess Luna, who's voice is MOST regal and impressive when she so desireth!" He proclaimed, waving a hoof in the air before resting his head on his hooves and blinking his eyes, switching his voice again. "Or me, Rarity! The belle of the ball. I bring aaaall the boys to my yard with my charm and wit." Then he flexed his arms, huffing a bit. "Or ME! Iron Bull! With a body so hot, you could EAT OFF IT! HOO!"

"I could think of a few things you and I could do with a voice like that." Mettaton chuckled a bit, a waiter coming by to pour them another glass of wine. And as the night went on, their laughter echoed out through the night as they made their way down the sidewalk...

Running into Trixie, who frowned at the two.

"Oh. Look who it is." She muttered. "I was in such a good mood, JUST came back from a nice play to get my mind off things, and here you two are. Enjoying my wagon with your honey bunch?" She asked Shinedown, waving a hoof in the air as Shinedown flinched, Mettaton frowning a bit at him.

"Wait, didn't you say you wanted to see us on a real date before you gave him your wagon?"

"OH! MY! GOODNESS. You TRICKED him onto a date with you!?" Trixie laughed, hooves flying to her mouth, giggling madly as Shinedown hung his head, Trixie wiping a tear from her eye as she smirked. "That is just too good, I can't...oh, I wish I could have SEX with this moment, it's so beautiful! And I'll be taking my wagon key back. And you will be showing up in my magic act tomorrow. You better hope your cape is waterproof. Not cuz there's a chance of rain. I'm bringing a giant hose and launching you out of it over a tank of sharks."

Shinedown reached into his belt pouch, tossing the wagon key to Trixie as she caught it with a snigger and trotted off down the sidewalk, grinning in delight as Mettaton held his face in one hand, sighing as his voice got low.

"You have really...really disappointed me." He muttered, taking off across the street before Shinedown's voice called out, halting him in place on the dimly-lit marble-paved road.

"You're the only employer that didn't treat me like a THING."

Mettaton stopped, slowly turning around, blinking in surprise. "What?"

"Every other employer got me fired every time something bad went wrong just because I was a changeling. And most of the other employees hated me or distrusted me because of what I was. I would always be blamed because everyone EXPECTS changelings to be lying, manipulating emotion suckers. So I'd go from job to job, bottling everything up, just being miserable." Shinedown quietly murmured, head hung low. "And you were the first employer who didn't see a Changeling when you looked at me. You just saw ME. And this morning was the first and only time I've ever lied to you. And it was just because I wanted to go out with you. I kinda always have because of everything you've done for me. Because you see me as a person. Not just one of "them"."

Mettaton brushed some of his hair back, and now Shinedown could see both pink eyes gazing back as Mettaton shrugged a little and smiled. "You know what? It's...it's alright. Truth be told, I've done much, MUCH worse to the people I cared about. And actually, I..." A blush. "I actually kind of had a lot of fun tonight. See you tomorrow, Shinedown. Take care of yourself."

"You too..." Shinedown said softly, Mettaton striding down the sidewalk as he rubbed the back of his neck and smiled a little.

"...Hapstablook."

[willow-salix]

Here's my offering for the second FabFiveFeb with the awesome @gumnut-logic focusing on the gorgeous Gordon. I used two of the prompts. Enjoy!

Selene's eyes cut to the side away from the book that she promised John she'd read but was continuing to boggle her brain.

He was there again, hanging around near the bedroom door, haunting the hallway, stalking the sleeping quarters of the house. And it was getting annoying, she'd have to do something about it. It was hard enough to concentrate on "Unlocking the Universe" without the constant distractions of the sighing, whining, moaning apparition outside. 

The figure moved past the door again, looking in at her. She tossed the book aside and sat up. 

"Gordon! What the hell is wrong with you?" 

The sun lightened, tousled blonde head popped around the door frame. 

"Oh, Selly, are you done reading?" 

"Well I am now."

He bounded in like an enthusiastic puppy, dropping down on the end of the bed, forcing her to move her feet quickly out of the way. 

"Did you want something?" 

"No, it's all good." He glanced around, his eyes taking in the new editions to his brother's room. Since Selene had been in his life John had definitely lightened up, growing more comfortable in his own skin and spending more time with them all but, even though Selene had gone shopping with Grandma and Virgil to pick out a few things to make herself feel more at home, John's uniqueness still shined through. 

They had all wondered if Selene would take advantage of John's suggestion that she redecorate his room, but they should have known better. Selene never acted as you would expect her too, very much like all the women in their lives. They were used to strong women that never followed the crowd, Kayo, Grandma, Penelope, it stood to reason that anyone the brothers met would be just as special. 

John's posters and star charts were still on the walls, but a few new types of chart had joined them, ones that showed the phases of the moon and its meanings, the sun and the solstices and the constellations related to star signs. 

Her books were intermingled with his own, her clothes were in his wardrobe mixed in with his,  items of makeup and toiletries were scattered around his bathroom and little interesting trinkets and her divination tools had joined his collection of space rocks, awards and celestial models on his shelves. The room had been softened with the addition of softly glowing lamps, fluffy blankets, a squishy armchair that Selene liked to curl up in and a couple of house plants. 

But the most interesting item to appear was what she called her altar, a small, scarf draped table nestled in a corner near the window. It held her tools, candles, crystals and other interesting things he didn't know the use of. The room now smelled of sweet incense and warm candle wax instead of its scent of furniture polish and occasionally John's shower gel. 

He had expected the room to feel different, but he could still sense his brother's presence in there even though he was currently up in Five. Somehow they had managed to blend effortlessly, a natural evolution of the two. 

Gordon would never admit it but he had moments of intense jealousy when he saw the two of them together. Not that he begrudged his brother the happiness he had obviously found, nor that he saw Selene as anything but a much loved sister who often seemed like a female Scott, put there to worry, boss him around and force him to eat. 

No, he just wished he had the same thing. It seemed rather unfair that his brother could manage to meet someone in such a random way and find his perfect partner when, try as he might, he could never seem to get any closer to the one who held his heart in her perfectly manicured hand. 

He sighed, his shoulders slumping. It seemed that every time they got close to their moment something or someone got in the way. 

"Spit it out."

He jerked out of his musings. "What?" 

"Whatever it is that you're thinking so hard about," she reached out and smoothed her thumb down the scrunched up skin between his eyebrows. 

She was right, he had been hovering, mostly because he was trying to get up the guts to not only ask for help but put his plan into action. He guessed it was now or never. 

"Sel, I need your help with something, call it my birthday present."

Selene sat up a little straighter. "OK, obviously I'll help with anything, unless it's a prank on your brother, in which case I'll still help but I'll deny all knowledge and throw you under the bus in a heartbeat."

"Good to know," he grinned, her teasing as always, putting him at ease. "Promise you won't tell anyone about this either."

She touched her hand to her heart and drew a little cross. "Cross my heart, I won't tell a soul."

"OK, first I need to show you something, but we're gonna need transport."

                                        ***

Selene's nose was pressed against the window of the little sub, her eyes drinking in the sight of the world outside. 

"Wow…this is just…wow." She had never expected there to be so many colours illuminated by the powerful lights of Four. A moving rainbow of waving, pulsing, rippling beauty that covered the sea floor, building up into what could only be described as an underwater garden. Mounds of coral in all colours created a hilly backdrop for the shoals of colourful fish that swam lazily around them. 

"Better than space?" Gordon nudged her playfully with his elbow. 

"I will never admit it to your brother, but it might just top it. This is incredible, I mean, I've never even been scuba diving."

"You've never…" he shook his head in equal parts amazement and disappointment. "That's it, I'm teaching you to dive. It's amazing, you know John used to join me a lot, he likes to skindive," he saw the blank look on her face. "Where you dive without a suit, just with an aqualung and flippers. He helped teach me to swim you know, Scott wanted to throw me in and let me work it out for myself as Dad did to him and Virg, but John was insistent that he help."

"That's so cute."

"No it's not, it's manly and the complete opposite of cute."

"Sorry, not cute at all, you're right," but her grin said he would never change her mind, she was just humouring him. 

"We're nearly there," he said, changing the subject. "It should be around this area, I worked with Dr Forsythe at the Living Oceans foundation, who specialises in Coral Reef conservation, the results ended up being pretty positive."

"Is that where we're going now?" 

He nodded. "You should start seeing some any minute now."

It was nice and quite interesting to see the way Gordon handled his craft. It was nowhere near as big, fancy or fast as the other Thunderbirds, but he acted like it was an extension of himself. She was used to seeing Gordon as the playfully mischievous one that she often caught plotting something, or out on a mission when he was all seriousness with the odd burst of light. This was different, this was his element and he was beyond comfortable. It was nice to see him so relaxed and happy. 

The first flicker caught his eye and he paused, his finger pointing the way. Her eyes followed his directions, growing wider as she saw the result of his months of effort. 

"That… is truly amazing, boo. She'll love this."

"So you'll help me get her out here?" 

"Oh, you can count on it."

                                     ***

"I do so enjoy our little shopping trips," Penelope tucked her arm though Selene's, "you always find such interesting little shops that I would never have thought to look in."

They had wandered all over Union Square and were now making their way down to the bay, Selene having had a nice little restaurant recommended where they could have dinner. 

"I love that dress you got, you suit vintage, it will look beautiful on you. I just wish my style suited it a bit more, but we can't all be blonde and beautiful."

"Oh hush, I happen to know a certain space monitor who thinks you are the most beautiful woman in the world."

Selene smiled, catching sight of their destination. 

"And I happen to know an aquanaut who thinks the same about you," Selene pointed down to the beach where Four sat, surrounded by people. 

The shock on Penelope's face was a sight to behold, it took a lot to surprise her, but they had definitely managed it. 

"Don't keep him waiting."

"But what about dinner? What will you do, Parker isn't returning for at least four hours?" 

"John's picking me up in an hour in my car, we've got a date night. Now go," she gave Penelope a gentle push towards the railings.

Feeling uncharacteristically unsure as to what she was doing and rather ambushed, Penelope slowly descended the steps down to the beach. She had absolutely no idea what was going on, why was he even here, on his birthday of all days, when he should be celebrating with his family. 

The back hatch of Four opened to reveal a grinning Gordon. He cambered out, stretching to his full height but instead of the standard blue uniform he was dressed in smart, grey trousers and a plain white shirt with not a palm tree in sight. His usually messy hair was brushed and an attempt had clearly been made to tame the unruly mop. 

"Lady Penelope."

"Gordon, happy birthday."

"It is now, and also," he reached back into his craft and drew out a bouquet of pink roses, "happy Valentines day."

Penelope could feel an uncharacteristic blush warming her cheeks as she took the flowers. 

"Will you do me the honour of being my Valentine tonight?" 

She nodded. "I'd like that very much."

"I've got something to show you, care to take a little trip with me?" 

"How could I turn down such an offer?"

She took his offered hand and climbed aboard. 

                                     ***

Penny had been under water more times than she could count, being an experienced diver and having a car that was more than waterproof, but nothing compared to sitting beside Gordon Tracy as he piloted them deeper into the ocean. 

He'd programmed in the coordinates and left the small craft on autopilot as he produced a picnic basket from her favourite London deli, filled with all her favourites. 

She would never have believed that he had it in him to put together such a romantic gesture, he'd likely had a little help since Selene was obviously involved, but she found she didn't really mind. 

It was nice to be alone together, especially with no chance of interruption bar an emergency. No nosy Parker to wedge himself between them, no darling Bertie to demand their attention, no rescuees to reassure, no brothers to interrupt. Just them and the quiet peace of the ocean. It was rather blissful. 

Now that they had time to talk they made the most of it, chatting between bites of crusty bread, tangy cheese, succulent grapes and a very palatable white wine, catching up on their lives the past few months. 

She looked more beautiful than he had expected, dressed down in casual jeans and a cosy sweater, clothes that one wore to go shopping with a friend rather than to a society event. It was strange but most definitely not unpleasant to see her out of her comfort zone and designer clothes, to see the real woman underneath. This was the one he'd wanted to get to know, the one he was drawn to. 

Penelope found her gaze drawn over and over to the gentle curve of his lips as she watched him eat, recalling just how soft they had felt during their one, brief kiss. She hadn't planned it, she'd just been overwhelmed by everything, seeing him back on active duty after his brush with death had been emotional for her and she'd thrown aside all decorum, giving in to the urge. Now she wanted to be able to do that again, wanted to lean in, close the distance between them and lose herself in the unique presence that was Gordon Tracy. 

He blinked his big caramel eyes at her and she was done for, she inched forward as he did the same...BEEP… 

Gordon leapt back into the pilots seat as they neared a reef, growing instantly more serious as he took back control of the little craft from the autopilot now they had reached their destination, steering it expertly past clusters of coral and waving fronds of exotic underwater plants and little darting fish. 

Gordon watched her eyes drinking in the sight of the reef he'd so lovingly helped to cultivate, to save for future generations. 

"I've been working with a guy specialising in marine conservation breeding, basically breeding hardier fish with those that are endangered, trying to create new breeds that will survive the changing climate."

"Oh really? That's fascinating. Were you successful?" 

Gordon didn't speak for a second, guiding the nose of the sub around a particularly large group of pink puffy anemones. There they were, still in their shoal, lazily swimming, almost exactly where he and Selene had found them two days previously. 

"You tell me," he nodded towards the small, genetically perfect saddleback butterflyfish. 

"Oh my," Penelope stared at the fish, their bodies sparkling in the light of Four's high beams. There was only one way to describe the shine of their scales, the way they seemed to be a silvery pearl colour one moment and with a flick of their body you saw a rainbow of colours…

"Iridescent," she whispered in awe. "I have never seen anything so beautiful. And you helped create them?" 

Gordon smiled proudly, watching his babies swimming happily around the craft as they floated gently through the shoal. They were graceful, unbothered by their presence, seemingly curious as they came right up to the glass to investigate. "Yep, I got to name them too."

"You did? What are they called?" Penelope tickled her finger against the window, laughing with delight as a fish followed her movements, booping its nose on the glass. 

"Well, obviously they have their species name of Chaetodon Ephipippium but in English," he paused, slightly embarrassed now that he was here with her. He took a deep breath, remembering what Selene had instructed him, be bold, be brave, be daring."In English it's a Pretty Penny."

She blinked, unprepared for the wave of emotion his information provoked. He'd named them after her. These beautiful, unique creatures he'd created would forever be a reminder of just how special he was. 

"That's…well…it's very flattering, and they are certainly very pretty," Penelope turned her head, hoping he wouldn't see her blush. She didn't know what to say, how to react. 

Gordon's eyebrows drew down in a frown, did she not like them? Had he been wrong? Be bold, be brave…He reached out a hand and cupped her chin gently, turning her back to face him. 

"Do you not like them?" 

She covered his hand with hers, managing a shaky smile. "No, I love them."

"Then what's the problem?" 

"We can't, we can't do this, not now." She gently pulled his hand away and set it aside. 

"Why not? Give me one good reason?" he refused to let go of her hand. "Just one. Tell me you don't want me and I'll back off."

"What about finding your father? The launch of the new Zero-X?" 

"That isn't a reason not to, that's a reason to take every chance we can and act on it. We don't know what we're going to find up there, if we will even find anything at all. If this and International Rescue itself has taught us anything, it's that life is too short and too unpredictable to waste opportunities by being cautious and scared. You have to grab your happiness with both hands."

"This could change things between us, and not for the better." 

"Or it could make it more amazing. Look at John, he took a leap of faith and I've never seen him happier. I want that, Penny, I want that with you."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small jewellery box, opening it to reveal a natural pearl, carved into the shape of a seashell, strung on a delicate gold chain. 

"What do you say Valentine? Will you be mine?" 

His handsome face was full of hope but also wariness, fear of rejection. Would it be so bad to risk her heart on one such as he? Gordon was a joker, he rarely ever took anything seriously, but here he was, the most sincere she'd ever seen him.

He was one of the good guys, he saved people, he didn't hurt them. He was worth taking a risk for.

"Tell me you don't want me," he whispered again, a plea for her to tell him the truth. She was powerless to resist. 

"I can't," she whispered back as she moved closer. 

His lips brushed hers in the softest of kisses, his mouth catching her little sigh of relief as his arms slid around her waist, pulling her closer. There was no one to interrupt them, no one to tell them no, no one but them. 

No matter what happened in the future, good or bad, they would always have this moment, they would have each other, and the world would have the pretty little fishes that floated outside their little sub of solitude. 

[iamnotbrianmay]

Y’all are really going to make me write the Percy Jackson Queen AU huh? Y’all are about to make me look like a FOOL, an utter BUFOON, because you are all too scared to talk about how incredible it would be! 

Well, fine, let that be my fate: 

Freddie → Apollo: has been variously recognised as a god of archery, music and dance, truth and prophecy, healing and diseases, the sun and light, poetry, and more. 

 At first people peg him as everything but a child of Apollo. He just doesn’t have the looks, you know? He is not blond, blue-eyed, or athletic. They make bets around camp thinking he might be anything ranging from a child of a lesser God to a child of Hades. Which is ridiculous, The Big Three don’t have children.  

He gets claimed during a night at the mess hall a few weeks after he has been at camp. They are all singing and just being rowdy teenagers when the symbol of Apollo appears over his head. 

He is very good at singing, lyric writing, and composing because of his godly parentage. 

He is also very fond of being on the sun. Like he falls asleep while sun bathing more often than not and very much enjoys their days at the lake or the beach.

His voice is often compared to those of muses, and you know what? That’s just his father’s blessing. Dear old dad took one look at the singing baby and went, ‘yep, this kid is going to be the best singer the world has ever been’ then blessed him. 

Everyone in Olympus got mad with Apollo for a couple of years until they decided that okay, fine, you made the right choice, Freddie is going to be the absolute best thing ever. 

John → Hephaestus: is the Greek god of blacksmiths, metalworking, carpenters, craftsmen, artisans, sculptors, metallurgy, fire, and volcanoes.

His dad doesn’t need to claim him before everyone knows exactly who is his godly parent. The burning mark he gets the second time he visits the forges is more of a formality than anything else. Hephaestus just really wants his boy to stop sleeping in the crowded Hermes cabin. 

He helps his half siblings with everything electronic, and they are all delighted at the fact that he was able to upgrade the wiring and the sound system in their cabins. Now they can have the wildest fucking parties ever. 

Yeah, that boy adores hosting parties for everyone with his new inventions. 

“I’m telling you, Freddie. This microphone does not need a cable. It’s wireless.” 

He has this extensive collection of Bass Guitars which are all upgraded to fit John’s style of playing. They will be worth millions when they get older, but for now they are just his babies. 

The only thing he ever builds from scratch is Brian’s Red Special, which he builds with Brian’s help for the older boy’s fourteenth birthday. 

Don’t tell anyone, but John actually spent more time on their little project than he did on anything else in his life. He just really loves his big poodle friend, okay? 

John is also the one that comes up with the idea of Queen after one afternoon he finishes building things for all of his friends. A piano for Freddie, a drum kit for Roger, and the Deaky Amp for Brian. 

He is the one, along with his siblings of course, to build the stage in which Queen have their first performance. (Also known as the performance where Apollo blessed the other three members of the band)  

Roger → Aphrodite: associated with love, beauty, pleasure, passion and procreation.

After he gets claimed, the whole jiz that Aphrodite does that makes her children ridiculously pretty, the whole camp is drooling after the drummer. 

He uses that to his advantage for a while until the spell wears off and he is left as good ol’ Roger. (Still unfairly pretty, definitely Aphrodite’s child) 

He is a tiny ball of anger and charm and people sometimes question if he is the love child between a descendant of Ares and Aphrodite. Which he might be, no one really knows, least of all Aphrodite. 

Once Roger discovers his Charmspeak it is over for everyone. Like he was already pretty enough to make everyone wants to bow down before him, and now he literally can make them all do whatever he wants. And, oh boy is he enjoying this. 

He does the most™️ to be the best sword fighter in the whole camp. Like not even kidding he beats everyone at sword fighting, there is not one person who can beat the blonde menace (except maybe Brian, but that’s because his bf distracts him with how cute he looks) 

He always uses his ‘dumb blonde’ looks to his advantage, and the people and monsters always fall for it. He always gets away with everything. 

Brian → Athena: is an ancient Greek goddess associated with wisdom, handicraft, and warfare.

What is it with children of Athena and getting to Camp Half Blood at a very early age? Seriously, poor kids. 

By the time he turns fifteen he has already spent eight years of his life in Camp Half-Blood. No one remembers when he got there, or when he was claimed, just that he has always been there.

He is like that one thing that never changes at Camp, despite of what happens.

You don’t want to mess with Brian. He is a calculating and cold son of a bitch who will get revenge on you when you least expect it. He knows revenge is a dish best served cold. 

He is the best battle strategist on Camp Half-Blood. And when I say best I mean best. Years after his retirement they are still going over his notes on battle strategy because he is just that good. 

He built the Red Special with John’s help when they decided to form Queen. He had been using a Fender guitar Chiron got him for his birthday but nothing compared with John’s instruments. 

He keeps Drachmas to play the Red Special with even after they leave Camp. Quarters just don’t sound the same as godly coins. 

He uses his heritage as a way to learn as many songs in the guitar as possible because what else would he use his intellect for, duh. 

He can beat Roger, Freddie, and John in sword fighting on a good day, but to be fair neither the singer nor the bassist are any good with swords. 

He can beat Roger because he has studied the younger boy’s fighting style and has worked out his weak points. 

All in all Maylor are like the most feared couple in camp, no one messes with them unless they want to suffer the consequences. 

[squishybellies]

I could have continued this but I kept getting distracted

Nevena lie on top of The Collector, her friend and possibly new lover, though unconfirmed. During their first initial meeting Nevena had come into their rather odd living quarters for temporary shelter, although now it was fairly obvious she didn’t intend on leaving unless evicted. It had been a few weeks and they had been through quite a lot together, or at least as much as one can do cooped up in a brothel. She was usually sealed in her own special magic jar equipped with a bit of soul magic to provide her with extra protection in case she decided to shove herself in their throat again or engage in any other manner of dangerous activity. The Collector themself were an odd but friendly individual, if a little unhinged. She would be lying if she said she didn’t experience some sort of attraction towards them, although what kind exactly was yet to be determined. They hadn’t had a few guests in a while, although perhaps this was a good thing because Nevena’s love was starting to show on their waistline. 

Indeed the Collector had began to get a bit of a belly, it started a few days ago after an extensive feast of which Nevena had been a part of, and ended in all that food being converted into a large mass of sticky fat clinging to their tummy, resulting in a bit of a beer belly. Today, she sought to add to that form and seemed rather successful. As she lie on top of their overstuffed gut, they grabbed her by the feelers and yanked her in for a few kisses, followed by an abrupt stop when they let out a large belch. 

“Urp… Collector apologises-” The Collector tried to stifle their burps but continued to let out many quick, quiet ones mixed with sickly hiccuping. “Hhhhaaa- so, so sorry-” Nevena giggled as her face reddened beyond the normal amount. “It’s ok, it’s just us.” The Collector giggled themself, smiling bashfully, showing their long, blood-stained teeth before burping again, face reddening. “Eeheehehehe~” Their other hands slinked to their sides, squishing the still soft skin, they could feel it burble against their palms. 

Nevena smiled to herself and placed a cookie to his face, watching it get absorbed, loving the sound of their whines. “Oh my love, no more! Collector’s belly whines for you to stop!” Indeed it did look rather tight so she giggled more. “Naww, alright-”

[365daysofsasuhina]

[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Two Hundred Sixty-Three: An Apprentice ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata, Hyūga Hiashi ] [ SasuHina ] [ Verse: River Runs Deep ] [ AO3 Link ]

“Look...there he is…”

“Who?”

“The last of the Uchiha. Didn’t you hear?”

“No! The old samurai family? What happened?”

“A few nights past, their manor went up in flames. The only one to survive was that boy, there. They say it was burned by a vengeful yōkai - an old kitsune their ancestor scourged. It gained enough power, and took its revenge.”

“The poor thing...will no one take him?”

“And risk bringing the yōkai down on their heads? Doubtful. He’s as good as marked. No one will risk being near him, now. The smell of smoke will follow...and anything too close will burn.”

The pair of women gossip beneath an awning, safe from the rain that falls over their village. Their umbrellas folded, they stop and stare at the child before them.

Sat on the stoop of an empty building, the water dribbles from the roofline, soaking him through to the bone. Bare feet are muddy, garments just as unkempt. He’s not had a meal to his name since the night his home was consumed in angry red foxfire.

He can still see the eyes in the dark when he closes his own.

Arms gripping around his knees, he stares blankly out into the swamp of the side road. There’s an ache in his belly as it begs for food, but he has nothing to offer it. No one dares approach, too wary of a fox’s curse to extend a hand. Surely if they help him, they’ll incur the creature’s wrath.

Sasuke is left to wonder if he will simply wither away in the gutter, alone and abandoned.

“...you. Boy.”

Dark eyes drag upward, following regal clothes up to a stern face. A man, followed by a pair of servants, looks to him critically with strange, pale irises the likes of which Sasuke has never seen. They almost look like the belly of a clam shell, white...and yet shimmering faint colors in the light. At the man’s hip...is a sword.

Samurai.

“You are the Uchiha, are you not?”

Confused, but also too run ragged to be wary, the boy gives a slow nod.

“What say you to an apprenticeship, boy?”

“...what…?”

“I have heard of your fate, and your roots. Your clan, like mine, was a noble family of the blade. To leave you to rot is a grave injustice. Here, in the mud, is hardy a fitting place of one of your blood. Get up.”

Black brows wilt. “But...the curse -?”

“I have no fear of fire, boy,” the man assures him, tone grave...and yet assured. “So...make your choice. Will you rot here in the gutter? Or will you accept an opened hand?”

His gaze flickers over this...stranger. Given his blade, it’s unquestionable what he is...but Sasuke cannot know who. “What...what is your name, sir?”

“I am Hyūga Hiashi, the head of my clan, and the bearer of my ancestor’s blade. There are few within the isles more skilled than I in our ways. If you are to learn, Uchiha, with the rest of your kin dead...there is no one better than I. But...I cannot do this without cost. If I am to be your teacher...you must also pledge your fealty to me. Your life will no longer be your own...but it will not wither. Like my blade, you will be an extension of my arm. A student, and a soldier under my banner. What say you, boy?”

A long moment of silence passes, Sasuke’s mind whirling. In truth...he has little choice, unless he wants to starve, or be killed, or suffer some other unknown fate until his death. No one else has dared approach the fox’s curse...but this one claims to be unphased by fire.

...Sasuke has to wonder why.

“...I...I accept,” he murmurs.

“Good...now, tell me your name, child of the Uchiha.”

“Sasuke, Hyūga-sama.”

“Your age?”

“I’m newly seven, sir.”

“I see...I’ve a daughter your age. But you will meet her another time. For now...we must take you home, bathe you, and redress you. I’ll not have a dirty vagabond under my wing. Come.” Without another warning, Hiashi turns and makes to leave.

Scrambling to his feet, Sasuke follows, still feeling...unsure. Far more questions than answers seem to run circles in his head. Who is this man? What does he want with an orphan? Who is he to defy the curse of a kitsune?

And those eyes...something about them seems...inhuman.

But there’s no time for his thoughts now, led through the streets and their stares, their whispers. By now, everyone seems to know the tale...and what it might mean if they get too close. Hiashi doesn’t seem to pay them any mind, but Sasuke shrinks from their mistrustful gazes. All of this...and none of it brought about by his own actions. Just a curse earned by an ancestor long dead. And now...his life will never be the same. His kin, gone...his home, nothing but ashes and cinders.

His future...completely uncertain.

Keeping just behind Hiashi’s hems, Sasuke soon finds himself led to a manor not unlike how his own once was. A walled district littered with buildings, roads, and beautiful gardens all standing in the grey of the rainy day, people doing their best to avoid the somber weather. All turn to observe their patriarch...and the little boy behind him.

And everywhere Sasuke looks...he sees those same strange eyes. Eyes that seem to stare straight through him.

“First, a proper bath. Then new clothes. Then we must get some sustenance into you,” Hiashi muses, still walking. “Once you are full and presentable...we will speak further. Though, if the hour grows late...it may wait until morning. I suppose it depends on how filthy you’ve gotten, and how great your appetite. My servants will tend to you. Until later, then.”

With that, Sasuke finds himself whisked to a bathhouse, stripped and washed and nearly simmered in a bath so hot, it quickly turns him red. But after so many days cold and alone, it’s a welcome change. Once warmed to his bones, he’s taken and dried, then given fresh garments that are ever so slightly too large.

“These belonged to Neji-sama, Hiashi-sama’s nephew,” one servant explains, helping to adjust the outfit. “He is already a prodigal swordsman, and a year older than you. Hiashi-sama will surely use him as a measure for your growth. Train hard, Uchiha-sama. Perhaps you will wield a blade so mighty, you will slay the kitsune that cursed you!”

The notion widens the boy’s eyes. Kill a kitsune…? Is such a thing possible? If it would avenge his family, then...perhaps…

But he’s given little time to think, carted away to his next assignment: a meal. In spite of himself, his expression is uncensored desire, stomach gurgling and a bit of drool gathering at a corner of his lips.

He eats enough to fill a grown man twice over, and could still devour more...but brings himself to a stop. Still a relative stranger, he’s fed in the kitchen, tucked atop a sack of rice as the cook laughs heartily at his appetite.

“You’ll be hungry quite often, little Uchiha,” he muses. “Hiashi-sama will run you ragged training if you are to be worth his investment in you!”

“Do you know...why he brought me here?”

“The blood in your veins is just as old, powerful, and noble as his own. To leave you to the streets is a shameful thing . Hiashi-sama fears no curses - you will be safe here.”

“But why doesn’t he -?”

“Oh, Hinata-sama!”

Cut off, Sasuke looks to the doorway. There, half-hidden behind the wall, is a girl about his age. Hime-cut hair is dark, an amethyst shine haloing from the fire. She wears a white, blue, and purple kimono, and like the others, bears those same strange eyes. But something about her feels even...stranger.

Unable to help staring, Sasuke tries to puzzle it out as the cook inquires if she’s here for a sweet to ruin her supper. As she shrinks shyly, Sasuke notices it, for just a moment.

A strange, whipping shadow cast behind her from the kitchen’s light.

But then, like a blink...it’s gone.

“Your father will scold me if I spoil your dessert before it’s time, Hinata-hime,” the cook offers, smiling warmly. “Just be patient - it won’t be long.”

“O...okay…”

“Have you met our now guest? Your father has taken on an apprentice! What do you think?”

It’s then the pair finally lock eyes, and Sasuke barely suppresses a shiver.

Something about her...it’s…

Hiding further behind the wall, Hinata ducks her head, nearly hiding behind her fringe. “...you are...the Uchiha…?”

“Y...yeah.”

Eyes rove over him curiously. “You...smell like smoke…”

“Impossible, we just had him bathed, Hinata-hime! Surely you just smell the hearth, here. Now...you’d best make your way back to your room. You know your father will be unhappy to see you back here - this is a place for us servants!”

“Y...yes.” With one last glance at her guest, Hinata gives a tiny bow before disappearing.

Sasuke doesn’t reply, just frowning, a churning in his gut. What is going on in this place…?

“Uchiha-sama? Hiashi-sama wishes to speak to you in the morning - the hour grows too late, and he has no time this evening. Please, follow me to your quarters.”

Looking to the servant, Sasuke manages a nod, thanking the cook and making to follow. His room is...nothing special. Just a place to sleep, maybe study. But after the last few days...it may as well be a room in the imperial palace. A roof over his head, a full belly, and bones warm from a bath...he can’t ask for more after all he’s lost.

Curling up in his bed, Sasuke idles for a time, lost in swirling thoughts. Something about this place - these people - it seems so...strange.

“I have no fear of fire, boy.”

But why…? What could make a man brave enough to be fearless in the face of a fox’s curse? Unless...he’s no man at all.

Having no proof, and too tired to think any further, Sasuke sighs and buries his head beneath the blankets. For now...all he wants to do is sleep in a bed at last. Tomorrow...he can begin to puzzle out this mystery.

And begin his path as a samurai’s apprentice.

                                                        .oOo.

     Guh, tired @~@ So I'll be brief. This is a super random idea, no idea if I'll do more with it or not - I was winging it pretty badly ^^; I like some of the concepts, but I have NO idea how I'd turn it into something a bit more proper for a story. We'll see.      For now tho, I'm just...too tired to give it more thought, aha - maybe I'll have more inspiration for it another day. Either way, thanks for reading~

[askjrd-blog]

QUEEN DESERVES ROCK'S ROYAL CROWN?

by Rosy Horid

Circus Magazine 19 January 1978

Freddie Mercury and Brian May Hawk their ‘News Of The World’

Freddie Mercury is no longer the leader of Queen. Has he been fired, you ask, or is he off to pursue a solo career? No it’s simply, with the advent of News Of The World LP (Asylum) the personality of the music and of Brian May, drummer Roger Taylor and bassist John Deacon have come across more strongly than ever before.

Those who have seen them on the recent US tour notice more than ever before that they’re a group comprised of four separate identities, not just a lead singer and background band. Freddie Mercury is delighted to hear it.

‘I’ve never considered myself the leader anyway,’ says irrepressible Freddie. ‘The most important person, perhaps.’ And guitarist May agrees.

‘Our separate identities do come to the fore on this album, on which every cut is completely different from the one before it and there’s no concept at all. Apart from each having contributed two tracks to the album, Roger and John have been much more involved in the playing. Roger plays rhythm guitar on some of his cuts (‘Sheer Heart Attack’ and ‘Fight From The Inside’) which makes sense, because he had a better idea of how he wanted it to go. John plays acoustic guitar on one of his as well (‘Who Needs You’). I played maracas on it. While we may not do it that way on stage, in the studio that makes more sense.’

Brian also does a lot more singing of his own songs on News, but he’s content to let Freddie do the singing on stage.

‘He’s a natural performer,’ asserts Brian. ‘He acts on stage as if he was born doing it. That’s great for us. We wouldn’t want it any other way.’

As May and Mercury emphasize, it’s not just musically that shifts occur in the group.

‘John keeps a very close eye on our business affairs,’ says Freddie. ‘He knows everything that’s going on and shouldn’t be going on. If God forsakes us now the rest of the group won’t do anything unless John says it’s all right.

‘Roger is very important to us in a different way. He’s always been an out-and-out rock & roll fan with no time to stop and think about music and that’s very good for us. Instinct. He’s also the one who is most aware of facets in music, and that’s essential in the band. If you listen to ‘Sheer Heart Attack’ on the new album you’ll see what we mean. It sounds like a punk, or ‘new wave’ song, but it was written at the same time of the Sheer Heart Attack LP. He played it to us then but it wasn’t quite finished and he didn’t have time to complete it before we started recording. That was three years ago and now. . .almost all these records you hear are like that period.’ And Roger now? ‘He was into punk for a long time, but he’s tired of it.’ More about the album later.

But if you still don’t believe no crown of ladership rests on the mercurial head of Freddie, it’s worth repeating his comment about the composition of the group.

‘If anyone left Queen, anyone of the four, that would be the end of Queen. We are four equal, interwoven parts. And the others just couldn’t function the same without each quarter.’

Queen have just finished a special tour of the states. Not the longest they’ve ever undertaken, by any means, but special nevertheless.

‘It was the first tour we’ve ever done without the support band,’ Freddie explained. ‘There was so much going on on stage that I doubt there would have been room for another band anyway. We have so much material we want to play for people now that it would have been far too long a concert. It’s hard enough anyway to know what to leave out: we’d like to play all the new material, but there are some things we just would not dare leave out or I think the fans would lynch us.’

It was the sort of tour most rock bands dream of doing. Brian agrees: ‘We’ve managed to get some of the most sought after halls there are, even though the tour was short. Most of them are places we’ve played before. In some cities we had to settle for second, alternative choice auditoriums – the thing was set up so fast. It was also a very compressed tour – 35 dates in six weeks. We did very large halls because we wanted to do a fuller show and our rig was about twice as big as ever we used before.

‘It provided a complete stage environment, with an extension stage, three trailers and enormous lighting gimmick not just for New York and Los Angeles. That’s why we booked big halls, so that we could give everybody the complete show. We first used our crown centerpiece at London’s Earl’s Court concert over the Jubilee. At the time, we didn’t envisage being able to take the crown on tour with us, but we managed to have it demounted into a portable object. And so we had it for all the gigs. It made the most ambitious backdrop we’ve ever attempted, but it was worth it. The fans seemed to enjoy it and they are what matter.’

That last remark of Brian’s is typical of the group’s attitude towards their fans, for they have one of the closest rapports with the fans of any in the business. The same cannot be said for their relationship to the music press, however, especially in Britain. In fact, many people thought the chart-popping single ‘We Are The Champions,’ was Queen’s way of telling the press in no uncertain terms that they’ve made it without them. Others thought it an arrogant statement about their rock supremacy. But how do they feel? First Freddie, who wrote the song:

‘Certainly it’s a relationship that could be, but I was thinking about football when I wrote it. I wanted a participation song, something that the fans could latch on to. It was aimed at the masses; I thought we’d see how they took it. It worked a treat. When we performed it at a private concert in London, the fans actually broke into a football chant between numbers. Of course, I’ve given it more theatrical subtlety than an ordinary football chant. You know me.

‘I certainly wasn’t thinking about the press when I wrote it. I never think about the British music press these days. It was really meant to be offered the musicians the same as the fans.

‘I suppose it could also be construed as my version of ‘I Did It My Way.’ We have made it, and it certainly wasn’t easy. No bed of roses as the song says. And it’s still not easy.’

Brian concurs, ‘You know, songs aren’t always about what the words say. Messages in songs can appear different. I always see that as the difference between prose and poetry. Prose can mean exactly what it says, while poetry can mean the opposite. That goes for this song. Freddie’s stuff is often tongue-in-cheek anyway, as you know. This song is very theatrical. Freddie is very close to his art. You could say, he’s married to his music, whether it’s ‘I Did It My Way’ or his ‘There’s No Business Like Show Business.’ I must say, when he first played it for us in the studio we all fell on the floor with laughter. So many people in the press hate us because we’ve side-stepped them and got where we have without them.

‘But there’s no way the song says anything against our audiences. When the song says ‘we,’ it means ‘us and the fans.’ When we did that special concert, the fans were wonderful. They understood it so well. I know it sounds corny, but it brought tears to our eyes.’

Freddie and Brian are unanimous on that: the spontaneous responses to ‘We Are The Champions’ really move them. But that is the kind of general response News Of The World has received because, as Brian may says, ‘It’s a spontaneous album. I think we’ve managed to cut through to the spontaneity lacking in our other albums. I have no apologies to make for any of our previous albums. We’re proud of them and wouldn’t have let them out if we weren’t. But I now feel some may have been over-produced, so we wanted to go with a more spontaneous rock & roll based album. It was nice to do something that didn’t need such intensity. For example, with ‘Sleeping On The Sidewalk’ we did it in one take because it just seemed right the first time. We like to think of the album as a window on an unguarded moment, not a set piece. Each cut seems to do that, from the participation songs to Freddie’s mood pieces. Even his numbers on the album are different, from his heavy ‘Get Down, Make Love’ to ‘My Melancholy Blues,’ which is just what it says.’

Brian admits that his own material is different too. But he still tries to keep his private life separate and out of his songs as much as possible.

‘If you don’t keep something back, it can be very bad for you.’

But for the band both the album and the tour are in the past and they have to look at the future. They got back to England on Christmas Eve.

‘My mother would have killed me if I wasn’t home for Christmas. I haven’t missed one yet,’ says Freddie. And the others felt the same.

It’s time for some stock-taking. We’ve all become businessmen,’ admits Freddie, ‘even though it’s against our better judgment. It’s something that always happens if you get successful. Being a musician is not just cutting discs, unfortunately. I wish it was. We’ve all got companies now, some connected to music, others not. I’m producing Peter Straker, I have my car company. . . and lots of other fingers in other pies. We must take some time off to get things in perspective, or things will start to go wrong.

‘Then there’s been talk of doing a big world tour – Britain, South America, Japan, and of course the States as well as lots of other places. But that won’t be until later in the year.’

So, American fans will have a chance to see Queen in 1978.

‘You must tell them not to be too greedy, thought,’ warns Freddie. They’ve already seen more of us than any other country.’

And what about a message for the American fans, Freddie?

‘They know we love them. Apart from that, oh, say something outrageous for me.’*

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 8

Since the previous chapter was rather dark, I wanted to get chapter 8 out as quickly as possible.  Fortunately, after the absolute struggle I had with the previous chapter, this one just rolled right along.

There are absolutely no trigger warnings in this chapter that I can think of.

My quarters turned out to be pleasantly close to Tyche’s, yet still far enough away that we each had privacy. As much as I loved my sister, being next door neighbors would have been exceedingly awkward. The Miys very carefully showed me how to program the door for waking and sleeping intervals, as well as how to set the lock code to the door.  It then ensured that the room was keyed to my biometrics, but how I could not say; there was no scanner or printing that I saw.  All of this took place with my sister humming a deceptively perky tune (it was from an archaic television show, and I recall the lyrics simply being several iterations of the word “Doom”).

Once the door opened, all I could do was gasp.  Where Tyche’s quarters had been covered in blacks, greys, and hints of maroon or plum, my quarters were light, almost airy.  The walls were tinted a pale purple, the furniture was a light grey.   Plants abounded, filling the room with life.  As with Tyche’s quarters, there was no cooking area, but a small dispenser that I had learned provided food and beverage when one desired privacy.  I had been told while I was still in medical that several communal eating areas had been arranged around the ship, but no one was required to be there unless they felt social.

Once I surveyed the space, one that clearly had been designed for me, I turned and gaped at my sister.

“Yes!” she crowed in victory. “I knew you would like it!” She turned to the Miys, who was producing a low growl. “You were so skeptical about the plants.  And the purple.”

“To be fair – “ was that whining I was hearing? “you are the one who explained that she cannot see certain wavelengths of light. You cannot truly expect me to remember which ‘colors’ correspond to which wavelengths.  And the plants you chose are mostly parasitic!  We have extensive documentation showing how Terrans perceive parasitic life!”

“But I also tried to explain that Sophia loves air plants.”

“Tillandsia,” I corrected her. “They do need more than air to survive.”

She waved her hand at me, “Same thing, Word Nerd.”  

I grinned at the old nickname before I turned to the Miys.  As I started to open my mouth to explain, it made the same gesture my sister had just performed. “Yes, Enhancer, we can hear you. They clean the air, make it fresher.  I have no noses, Enhancer and Tyche.  The air quality on the ship is within parameters, and I cannot detect trace impurities as sensitively as you can.  I have already begun adding plants to other common areas of the ship and sense approval from most of the Terrans who have begun to notice or previously requested such a thing.”

It’s statement made me realize that the only other humans I had seen, even when travelling from medical to Tyche’s quarters, were my sister and Simon. “Why haven’t I seen any other Terrans?” I asked, voicing the question for my sister’s sake so she could follow the conversation.

“This is a less populated area of the Ark,” the Miys explained.  “I have been made aware that some Terrans become psychically distressed when they encounter too many unknown people at once.  While the Ark is not large enough for each Terran to have their own quarters, as we had not planned on this contingency, there is currently sufficient space to allow some to have individual quarters.  Additionally, there are quite a large percentage of Terrans who prefer to live with others as a way of coping with such drastic change.  However, there are exactly four Terrans who I am desperately avoiding forcing to share living space with anyone, and I have been granted permission from my home planet to make such a decision since it is such a small percentage of the population of the ship.”

I looked at Tyche and quirked an eyebrow briefly. “You, me, Sam, and Derek,” she explained. “You haven’t met Sam and Derek yet, but they are both autistic and need space to be away from people when they get overloaded.  Great guys.  Sam is teaching me sign language, and I make him clothes that don’t aggravate his touch aversion.  I don’t know much about Derek, but he loves Mac and takes incredibly good care of him when I can’t, and that’s really all I need to know to like him.”

“Okay,” I nodded, “that makes sense. And I get you. Why…?” I trailed off as I pointed to myself.

Instead of Tyche, the Miys responded. “We need you to teach, Enhancer, and lead to a smaller degree.  I also know from observation of you and your personal history that you perform both of these functions at peak efficiency when you have a space designated in which you do neither.  Allowing you individual quarters ensures that, when your daily responsibilities are done, you will not have to – people? That is not a verb, Tyche – if you do not desire to do so.”

My sister giggled, and it dawned on me that she had intentionally thought that term as hard as possible at the Miys in an effort to teach it one of her favored slang words. I sighed, and explained, “It’s vernacular.  Many people use that word as an abbreviated way of saying ‘interact with people’.  And I get it, but it really isn’t necessary to give me my own quarters if there isn’t enough space….”

“Em-pathy,” my sister interrupted in a singsong voice. “Really, Soph, it’s okay.  Right at ten thousand people, seven thousand rooms.”

The Miys continued with a nod. “And currently, 1437 are unoccupied.  Most Terrans have voluntarily decided to share living space.  In some cases, three or four individuals are sharing quarters.”

Oh.  They were not kidding about that, apparently. I did some quick math in my head. “When you said a large percentage, I didn’t realize you meant over 85%.”

The Miys spread its inner hands, a gesture I had learned was a shrug. “Terrans packbond.  There is, however, a – caveat? That is in interesting word – to having individual living space.”

Here we go. All good things come with strings.

“I request permission to put a video feed in your quarters, like the one in Tyche’s quarters.”

A memory from earlier came floating back to me. “Not many humans on board that strongly atypical.” It was not by any means a question. Tyche was the most unique person I had ever met in my life.

“Precisely. We have four: two have declined video relay installation in their quarters….”

“And the fourth has not yet consented or declined,” I murmured. “Four. Tyche, Sam, Derek, and me.  I hadn’t consented or declined because you hadn’t asked yet.”

“Clarity,” it buzzed with a smug tone. “You do not have to consent, but we would like to learn more about Terrans who fall outside several definitions of ‘normal’ for Terran parameters.”

“And how do I fall into that category?” I asked. “I want to be sure that I would actually be contributing before I make a decision.”

Surprisingly, Tyche answered. "Seriously? I know we've had this conversation, mon soeur. We grew up with the same mother; we had roughly the same childhoods. We've both been through hell on Earth, even Before. I came out of that childhood fueled by rage and spite, but you? Somehow all that shit we went through? You came out kinder and way more hopeful. If hope could actually move mountains, you'd have flattened Everest with ease. We all – all of us survivors – have some kind of PTSD. You and I had it beforehand....but....it never stopped us. You've spun yours into something to grow from, not to recover from. You don't just say people can do better, be better; you believe it. You believe it, and you help them how you can, and they become better." “Also,” the Miys picked up after a brief silence. “You rate in the 99th percentile for Memory of those on board. In this, you are only slightly below Derek and on a level very close to Sam.  I would like to study the effects of this on Terrans, and neither Sam nor Derek have consented to video feed.  Additionally, you are able to keep it all incredibly organized, which is astounding. You store the information, but can also extrapolate it and draw both conclusions and inferences at a rate I struggle to keep up with.”

“You think in fractals,” Tyche translated unnecessarily.

“I’ll grant you the memory,” I replied, only half focused on my words as I tried to recover from the impassioned scolding my sister had given me. “But there is nothing special about surviving everything.  I was just… stubborn.”

Tyche laughed as the Miys pointed at her. “Incorrect, Enhancer. Tyche is what you call ‘just stubborn’.”

I allowed a chuckle at that. “Well, okay, I’m not as stubborn as her – “

Tyche cut me off. “No, Soph. I’m literally ‘just stubborn’,” she clarified with air quotes before pointing at herself. “Tenacity, Will, Persistence, and Passion.  As in, too tenacious not to survive when it all went to hell, too willful to not change my surroundings, too persistent to give up when I know I am right, and too passionate about my goals to see any alternatives.”

At that, I gaped before laughing so hard I could not breathe and falling to the ground from aching ribs. “Oh – my – gosh,” I gasped. “You really are just ten pounds of spite in a five-pound container!  That’s too funny! Oh wow.”

She made an indignant face, but I knew her heart was not in it. “Hey, clearly my spite is my most redeeming quality!  I was literally chosen as part of the best of the Human Race because I am so spiteful, thankyouverymuch.” She managed to sniff in mock-offense before dissolving into laughter.

The Miys just stared at us on the floor before making a shrug-gesture. “She is correct, Enhancer. What makes Terrans so interesting to the rest of the known Galaxy is your tendency to survive anything through sheer determination not to die in the direst circumstances. Tyche is an incredible example of this, despite her past before your world ended. Additionally, she is quite passionate about a number of Terran subjects that we have been very ignorant of.  It will be valuable when establishing a social system on the future colony.  I have already corrected a number of anomalies in passengers that I otherwise would not have understood if not for her.”

We both stopped at that information. Tyche looked just as confused as I was, which was not comforting. “What,” she drawled, “are you talking about?”

Oh, this did not sound good.

“Terran Jordan,” the Miys explained in a tone that showed it clearly knew it was in a precarious situation. “Jordan stated she is female, but her body is clearly male, so we fixed that on a genetic level.”

Oh. Fuck.  The Miys ‘fixed’ what sounded like a clearly transgender person.  Gender rights and sexual preference equality were two of Tyche’s most ardent causes.  However, fixing it on a ‘genetic level’ did not sound promising, and I could hear a feral-sounding growl coming from the petite form next to me. Fuck.

The Miys quickly reacted to the rage radiating from Tyche, and it became evident that she was thinking at it rather strongly. “Oh, Worlds, no. No. Not in that way. That is barbaric! Did Terrans actually do that? No!  Jordan consented to genetic testing, and I determined that Jordan’s genetics indicated she was clearly female, but a chromosomal abnormality made her body male! This was causing severe dysphoria in Jordan, so I offered to do genetic correction on the chromosomal abnormality so that her body is female along with the rest of her! She is quite pleased with the result. You, Tyche, told me that dysphoria is bad!  I simply wanted to ensure that Jordan was healthy.”

Oh. Huh. Not what I expected.

Clearly, not what Tyche was expecting either, as she promptly deflated. “I really thought you meant you made her think she was male. I’m sorry. I was about to kill this body.” She gestured at its form.

The Miys crouched and gently placed its upper-right hand on her shoulder. “I would have allowed it had I done what you suspected.  But no, Jordan is quite happy now that she is completely female. Additionally, we have opened testing to all on the ship for such genetic correction.  While we can only do genetic surgery on 3 persons at a time, due to the length of the procedure and the additional recovery, we already have 312 who have agreed to the procedure in the future.

“That’s maybe half of what you can expect,” I advised, trying to ignore the look of constipated rage on my sister’s face.  Sometimes she took a few minutes to squash poorly-placed anger. “The rest are probably waiting to see how this goes.  Our planet does not have a great track record for treating people fairly, especially if you are female, gender dysphoric, not attracted to the opposite gender, or not a member of a very specific major world religion.”

“Unfortunately, I have been educated in this,” it indicated my sister, who was perking up a little now. “However, I am of a race that has no gender, does not have sex, and therefore does not care.” It nodded firmly at this.

I sputtered. “Wait. No gender, and does not have sex. Back up to that. What?” I had never really asked, because there was so much more going on that I wanted to get caught up with.

“We are what Terrans would call mycogenetic, I believe.”

Myco.. mycology. “You’re mushrooms?” I exclaimed.

“Only as much as you are monkeys.”

Touché. “Okay, but you evolved from life similar to Terran fungus?”

The Miys nodded.

I knew then that I could  never enjoy a mushroom pizza again.

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