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chaoticevilbean · 3 years

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Another Star Wars AU, TBN*

*To-Be-Named

I love time travel. A lot. So here is a time-travel au, with the CW trio.

Somehow, perhaps by touching a Sith artifact, perhaps by the Force deciding they should, perhaps from some sort of weird ritual the locals were performing that the trio didn't know about, Obi-Wan, Ahsoka, Anakin, Rex, and Cody travel aback in time.

[Please keep in mind that Canon Timeline has died tragically in a fire, and I am but the weeping widow with an inheritance.]

Due to whatever happened, they all also end up (technically) deaging. They still have their memories and their knowledge and skills, just stuck in smaller bodies. They can think and act like adults, but they also have to struggle a bit more to implement Older Skills in Younger Bodies.

Ahsoka is 2. She's nubby. She's emotional. She's tired and sore from her deaging.

She wakes up in someone's office. She's in a spinny chair, a big one with leather padding. It's kind-of chilly in the room.

She's not thinking, because all her brain is putting together is that she's still tired. She grabs the jacket off the back of the chair and pulls it over herself. She goes back to sleep.

Rex and Cody wake up together.

They are their actual age, which is to say they're both about eleven.

They find themselves on Mandalore. In the more wild areas.

(let me believe that there are parts of the planet that aren't covered in city)

(also, this is the Mandalore in the cartoons)

They find a teen trying to wake them both up. Rex has absolutely no clue what's going on. Cody has a vague idea, because this girl looks very similar to a picture he once saw...

Obi-Wan does not fare as well. He is 3.

He wakes up in someone's arms. He's just as tired and sore as the other three. However, he's also got more awareness because he's in someone's arms.

He looks up to see who's carrying him.

He looks around at the people walking with them.

He starts crying. He cannot help this, as he is suddenly flooded with Emotions, and he is Smol. Smol = harder to handle Emotions.

Because Qui-Gon is walking right next to him, tapping away on a holopad as they go. Dooku is on his other side, on a comm call where both parties sound very tired.

And Obi-Wan is being held... by Obi-Wan.

So, yeah, not that great for a suddenly Smol Obi.

Now, Anakin is 8, so he's better off in that perspective.

But he wakes up on some remote planet without anyone around. He just was in the middle of a group, so he ends up kinda panicking.

Then he hears something coming towards him, and he panics more.

He's Tiny! He's Smol! He's massively at a disadvantage against attacks! He can't fight off whatever is on a planet like this!

It's Mace (and Depa).

Anakin, however, doesn't realize this. He has gone Feral.

Back to the beginning

Jango Fett has been very busy w/Important Mand'alor Paperwork all day. He finally has time to go and relax a little, and he makes it all the way down to the exit before he realizes:

It is really cold outside. He is not in armor bc he was planning to only do paperwork today (though he still has many weapons). When one plans to stay in the same room for almost the entire day, one does not wear normal garb.

That said, he has no protection from the cold. He forgot his jacket upstairs. He rushes back up to his office.

He distinctly remembers that he left the jacket on the back of his chair, not on the seat.

He also is wondering what that lump is.

He arms himself, grabs some of his "emergency" armor plating, and walks over to the chair.

He lifts his jacket up, expecting a bomb or some paperwork that fell off the desk, or something logical.

He does not expect to find a tiny Togruta child clinging onto the fabric, whining as they're woken up by his yanking of the jacket.

Jango's brain stutters for a moment, then he kicks into action.

First things first, he wraps the jacket around the Togruta. They thankfully stay asleep. Then he turns up the heat, because he knows the office has gotten colder in the twenty minutes or so he's been gone, and Togruta are from warm temperate zones.

He decides to call, in this order, a guard who can help him watch the Togruta (they did break in, after all), a medic to check the Togruta’s health, and the first person he can find in his contacts that might know an adult Togruta.

Next group

Rex and Cody manage to get the teen to stop fussing over them for long enough to ask for her name.

Her, clearly lying, but that’s understandable: My name is Ine.

Cody, who knows exactly who this is now: Oh, kriff. You’re Duchess Satine, aren’t you? Kriff.

Rex: Wait, Satine? As in the General’s Satine?

Satine, now very suspicious and reaching for her stunner: I think you need proper medical attention.

Cody, looking down at their eleven-year-old selves: Yeah, I think so, too.

They agree on one thing, at least.

Obi-Wan is crying. Loudly, uncontrollably, w/too many Emotions to even care that he’s supposed to be an adult rn.

Other Obi-Wan is very uncomfortable, bc he doesn’t know how to handle children too well.

They found this kid unconscious in the middle of a ruined, abandoned town.

Obi-Wan was meant to hold this kid while Qui-Gon did research and Master Dooku tried to convince the Council that it was entirely necessary to bring the kid back to Coruscant. Granted, they can still give the child to the locals at any time before they make it back to their ship, but apparently the Force is Being Loud.

The Force was Being Loud when it told Master Dooku to come along.

The Force was Being Loud when it led them to that town.

Qui-Gon and Dooku have argued fifteen and a half times on this mission, and an additional six times on the flight here. Obi-Wan is trying to mediate but also doesn’t want to overstep. The Force is Being Loud, sure, but the kid is also Force-sensitive so it might be something off that.

He didn’t argue with holding the kid bc he thought that it was better than being caught between the Masters.

Holding a crying child and trying to get two adults to stop arguing bc they can’t decide how to comfort the kid is not better.

Obi-Wan keeps walking past them to the ship with this baby. He does what he’s seen some crechemasters do to the younglings. The kid eventually calms a little, and he belatedly realizes that both Masters are still behind him, not with him.

Anakin is panakin.

He is currently in a state of Feralness. His instincts have kicked into overdrive, full-on Survival Mode.

Depa and Mace do not know this. All they know is that there was suddenly an extremely powerful Force presence that started fading quickly (bc Anakin started shielding).

They burst into sight of Anakin and are suddenly attacked by all four feet and some of Feral Force Child.

It’s all they can do for a good minute or so to avoid losing their fingers, eyes, or untorn clothes.

Mace puts a few things together very quickly.

This planet is uninhabited by any sapient life. Therefore, this child is utterly alone. This child also is clearly strong in the Force, and knows how to hide their presence, for whatever reasons. Mace is a Jedi, and therefore is bound by certain duties.

He decides it is his Duty to get this kid back to Coruscant safely.

Back to the beginning

Ahsoka wakes up to find a familiar face looking down at her. She’s still tired, but not as much. She’s very aware of her size, and does a few quick observations.

She does not fully know who Jango Fett is. She does know that some clones run off bc they hate war and weren’t given a choice an- no. Not going down that path yet.

Ahsoka assumes, semi-incorrectly, that she was shrunk or deaged and somehow found by a rogue clone.

She knows it’s a rogue clone bc they’ve got weird armor.

So she does the logical thing and tries to comfort this clone bc he looks really worried and kinda panicked. She stands up on the spinny chair and tries to balance and he practically lunges to help her and she can’t help but giggle, but it comes out in a bunch of chirps instead.

The clone picks her up and looks really awkward so she pats his face bc that’s the best she can do bc she doesn’t want to disprove the fact she’s two yet.

For all she knows, this rogue clone has no idea she’s actually a Commander in the GAR.

He doesn’t, but for different reasons than she thinks.

Rex and Cody go with Satine to the city. They have introduced themselves and said that they were separated from their aliit. They don't know where said aliit is.

Satine is highly suspicious by this point, bc these two kids recognized her with only part of her name, and they were alone, and they speak Basic with Mando'a thrown in.

Basically, she thinks that they're children of people like Death Watch, but she's too young to know that Death Watch isn't really into children.

Rex and Cody get checked over by a medic, but also start trying to get access to some working comms. They are refused on account of being suspicious children (which makes them a little upset bc they're not children)(Well, they are, but not those types of children)

They have not yet figured out that they are in the past, bc Cody and Rex only know that General Kenobi talks about Duchess Satine, and they know about Padme Amidala from General Skywalker, so clearly this Duchess is really young and the General simply viewed her as someone he wants to protect.

They are very very very wrong.

Obi-Wan manages to calm himself somewhat now that it's just him and... him.

He is three, and he knows roughly what's happening, so he knows he should probably act like a 3yo.

Unfortunately, he has very little understanding of how child ages work. 3 is smart enough to go up the stairs and communicate with adults, but def. not old enough to speak sentences that are 15 words long with at least 2 5-syllable words.

Fortunately, his older (younger?) self doesn't know children either.

So when this 3yo starts telling him that he needs to leave the two Masters on the planet and head to Tatooine really fast, Obi-Wan is more concerned about the idea than the strangeness of "this is a 3yo suggesting this".

Obi-Wan is really good at convincing people. Including himself. He manages to get Padawan Kenobi to leave supplies where the ship is supposed to be and head towards Tatooine.

He says that the Masters will be fine, they know how to survive, and they need to be alone together in order to work through all the tension. Plus, it gives them plenty of time to talk to the Council.

Toddler Kenobi also tells himself that he'll take the blow and say he used a mind-trick.

Padawan Kenobi doesn't believe him yet, but Toddler Kenobi smiles like a very smug adult and says "you'll get there eventually". What he truly means is up in the air.

Anakin, since waking up, knows much less than everyone else. Which is saying something.

He knows he's Smol. He knows he's Alone. He knows Someone has come and they are Strangers.

One thing about Anakin's instincts is that they are very much Survival Based. He was Feral when he joined the Jedi, only he had to hold those instincts back for most of his life bc of being a slave.

A slave cannot bite someone who approaches and Vibes Wrong.

By the time he felt okay with being Feral Out Loud, he also felt safe enough that he didn't need to activate his Survival Mode.

What I'm trying to say is that Anakin does not realize how strong his Feral Instincts are. He has absolutely no control over them rn.

When Mace decides to Help this child, this child is trying to Maul them.

Mace makes a small ruckus to draw Anakin's attention to him so Depa can move back. Depa pulls out her saber now that she won't hit the kid. The kid notices Purple and Bright and Lightsaber.

Lorge Jedi Mind says this is Good. Safe. Jedi.

Smol Feral Brain says this is Dangerous. Mean.

Anakin freezes on sight and just starts tracking Depa's saber. She does one of those things where a snake or something is focused and the person waves the fire or the food slowly to make sure the wolf is watching it and usually they toss the thing away so the snake follows it.

Mace instead takes this opportunity to wrap Anakin in his cloak. And Depa's cloak. And the spare ones in their bags.

Feral Child is not happy with this. Feral Child is also unable to scratch or Maul or do things other than bite and snarl.

Depa carries Feral Child while Mace comms the Temple and they walk back to their ship.

The Temple is having a field day.

First, one of their Shadows reports that a well-known bounty hunter got an emergency message from a pal of theirs that said Jango Fett needs help learning Togruta childcare.

Then they get a call from Dooku, which is not the mission report they wanted.

Yoda: Mission report, you have?

Dooku: Of a sort. We successfully spoke with the locals, then went to investigate a rather large disturbance.

Mundi: A disturbance?

Dooku: We found the source to be a Force-sensitive child.

Mundi: So you are here to ask for more time on the planet?

Dooku:...

Yoda: Bring the child back, you wish to?

Dooku, unapologetic: He is of an acceptable age to be admitted into the Temple, and no other beings were around at the time to entertain the idea of there being guardians.

The Council is sighing and muttering bc this is a Disaster Lineage (and they haven't even met the other two yet). Their call is interrupted by the sound of crying and Dooku saying the child's woken up.

Then there's another Shadow who sends a message saying a set of twins that seem like Death Watch were found by the heir of Clan Kryze.

Finally, to top everything off, they get a call from Mace Windu and Depa Billaba. Two very dignified, not-at-all chaotic Jedi from a perfectly respectable lineage.

Yeah, most of the Council and the Order itself forgets that Yoda had a hand in raising Windu. Yoda "Feral Grandpa" who throws children at every problem. Grandson isn't doing too well? Throw a child his way. Other grandchild is struggling to cope with grief? Throw another child their way. Oh, there's a war going on and newest grandchild is angry a lot? Here's a child!

The entire lineage has a soft spot for children.

Anyways...

Mace: Our mission was a success. We found the artifact and both specimens.

Koth: How long until your return?

Mace:...

Yoda: Found a child, you did?

Gallia: Master Yoda, that's a rather illogical guess. Once is unusual, twice is-

Mace: Oh, did Qui-Gon find a child as well?

Yoda, smugly: Bringing the child back, are you?

Depa, from the background, after a rather loud snarl is heard: We do not bite things, young one.

*more snarling*

Mace: We have no reason to believe he was not alone.

Tiin: *deep sighing*

Mundi: *mild confusion noises*

Koon, eagerly: Please send photos of this youngling. For the archives, of course.

Mace, nodding sagely: Of course.

*extremely loud yowl* *sounds of Mace turning*

Mace: DEPA!

Depa: He nearly bit off my finger!

Mace: That doesn’t mean you pinch him!

Depa: What else am I supposed to do?!

*sudden exclamation filled solely of Mando’a, Huttese and Twi’leki curses*

Mace: So, I don’t know if he speaks Basic, but Master Che should be able to talk him through a check-up.

Yeah, several Council members are experiencing headaches now. Normally, they would have some empathy for Mace and his own stress-induced migraines. They currently do not.

Right after that call, Dooku calls back to say that Obi-Wan has left without them.

Mundi: He left the child with you, right?

Dooku:

Mundi: He left the child with you, right?

Obi-Wan did not leave himself with the Masters. Obi-Wan has listened to Mini-Obi and is off on some wild space adventure to a criminal-run planet.

The toddler won’t stop staring at him. He asks for a name. The kid says to call him Ben.

OW: Is that your name?

“Ben”: It is a name I am called :)

OW: That isn’t what I meant.

“Ben”: I know :)

Ben also keeps staring at OW’s lightsaber. OW decides to make sure the kid doesn’t start playing with it when he isn’t looking.

MEANWHILE

Ahsoka has figured out that she was really very oh-so wrong. She’s on Mandalore. As in, the Mandalore that is under Jango Fett. Bc she’s with Jango Fett. He’s holding her hand bc she was nervous about the strange looking medic (who was just wearing armor, but not clone armor and civies don’t wear armor.)

Ahsoka knows very little about Jango Fett. Clone Buir, Mandalorian leader, tried to kill Master Kenobi. Also dead.

He asks how she got in. She shrugs. She is too small to fight back so she can’t let him know anything. Whatever everything is right now. But also, he doesn’t seem mean or evil or anything.

Oh yeah. Skyguy said that Mandos love children. That's why the clones were so protective of her, even with Skyguy on her side of the argument.

She decides to use this to her advantage. She can probably get herself a comm, and enough time to call the Temple. If she can convince them she at least knows a Jedi, then they can come get her and she'll work from there.

ELSEWHERE

Rex and Cody are getting really upset. This Duchess is really nice, but she's acting really weird and keeps insisting she's not actually called Duchess. No one will give them a comm, they keep getting weird looks for speaking Mando'a even though they're on Mandalore, and Satine's father keeps mentioning a Fett. Maybe Boba's set a bad example again.

Rex starts to fall asleep, to his chagrin. He's too bored, sitting and getting some abnormally extensive check-up. Cody is fine, but he's used to the calm that is General Kenobi. Rex usually has a Togruta teen in the vents and a Human that is never where he's supposed to be.

Rex does, in fact, fall asleep. His "twin" starts glaring when a doctor goes to wake him up. Cody makes it clear that his brother is like Cat: once asleep, you do not wake.

Satine is giggling, but trying not to let the others hear. Cody does. Cody looks at her. They have a stare-off.

Cody goes back to glaring at the doctors. He will not admit to any emotions besides Protect™.

BACK TO

Obi-Wan and Ben have made it to Tatooine.

#star wars #star wars fic #another star wars au #obi-wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #kote fett #cody fett #rex fett #cody #rex #ahsoka tano #disaster lineage #mace windu #depa billaba #jango fett #duchess satine #time travel #deaging

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royalelusts · 3 years

Note

Could I have a request for upper demon moons with s/o gender neutral in a date in modern world ?

A/N: Here you go anon! I hope you enjoy these.

Kokushibo

I feel like he really enjoys quiet places

A day at the book store is usually you twos go to date

Just helping each other pick out books

Or finding really funny ones to make fun off

Another date you two go on regularly is to the park with your dog

Just watching you play fetch with her is enough to make Kokushibo laugh to himself

His favorite part about the walks though dont happen until the sun goes down

You two were walking hand in hand through the part

“Hey is something wrong?”

Your question caught him off guard. “Why would you say that love?”

“Well you keep checking your watch like somethings going to happen.”

Knowing you caught him he sighed leading you toward the tunnel of trees

As soon as the clock hit 9 the fairy lights in the tunnel turned on

“Oh so this is why you were in such a hurry.”

Pulling out his phone he put on a slow song and held out his hand

“May I?” “You may.”

And you two danced in the tunnel like you were the only people left on the planet

Doma

Did somebody say shopping?

He will buy you anything and everything

Oh you want that new book that your favorite author just dropped?

We’re picking it up right now

You want those shoes?

On it

Want the new video game that’s really hard to get?

Already in the bag

He absolutely loves to take you to buy clothes the most though

He pushes you out of your comfort zone in a good way

“Come on out darling. Let me see~”

“Doma I don’t know...”

“Nonsense. I bet you look amazing.”

After taking a deep breath you walked out of the changing room

“Look at yoooouuuuuu.” He squealed. “Do a turn for me won’t you.”

Rolling your eyes you complied to his wishes

“Ah you just look amazing. Yep we’re buying it.”

Yeah dates with Douma are a real confidence boost

Akaza

His dates are usually very chill

He’ll walk around town with you all day if he could

Doing whatever you wanted to do

But there is one time of year that is absolutely necessary for a date

And that my friends is fair time

You two wear matching outfits cause you’re that couple

He definitely makes it his mission to go on all the rides

Even the pirate ship

“Babe just one more time.”

You’ve had to pull him away from things more than once

You two were walking around having just got done eating when a certain clown started flying insults at your boyfriend

“Oh look at the big tough guy.” The clown teased

Of course Akaza ignored him cause he’s got self control like that😌

You two were walking away from the clown until he made a comment

“Oh I see you got a nice looking s/o with you. I would love to take them on a date.”

Yeah all self control out the window

Akaza walked straight up to the dunk booth and paid the vendor

“Come on big guy. Lemme take your lovely s/o on a date.”

Akaza smiled at the clown before hitting the target sending the other in the water

When Akaza came back you laughed

“Seems he got under your skin~”

“I can’t stand assholes like him.”

“Haha my hero.” You say giving him a kiss as a reward

Nakime

Dates with her are somewhat difficult

Don’t get her wrong, regardless of what you pick she’ll love it

But you really wish she would have some input sometimes

But that aside, stay home dates are more her style

Cuddling on the couch watching a movie, cooking together, self care nights?

The whole package

Absolutely loves when you play with her hair

Makes her soft

Lo-fi music played in the background as you typed away on your computer

Nakime, who just got out the shower, got behind you resting her head on your shoulder

“Rough day?” All she did was hum a yes

“You know what that means~” You turned around hugging her tightly

“Self care night!” She let out a soft chuckle at your antics

Hantengu

Like Kokushibo, his ideal date would be someplace quiet

But with less people

So he always has weird places to take you

There was this bookstore in this part of town very little people knew about

Or rooftop cafe that served your drinks in the strangest cups

Your favorite thing is when he find small events to take you to

“Sweetheart...I found this new cafe. Would you like to go with me?”

“Of course I will!”

The cafe was a little bigger than the ones you usually went to but not by much

There were plants everywhere, chairs were shaped like teacup mugs, and there were teddy bears of different sizes at each table

“Tengu this is adorable”

“It makes me happy you like it” He gave your hand a soft squeeze before deciding to head to the counter

Gyokko

He’d probably take you to an art museum

Since he himself is an artist he goes there to analyze insult the art pieces

“My art looks way better than whatever this is”

He said that about the Mona Lisa….THE MONA LISA

I actually see him to be a really respected artist in the art world

So he’s constantly being invited to art galleries

Of course he brings you along

Before you two met he went alone and got bored really quickly

None of the art truly caught his eye

But with you there?

He has the absolute time of his life

You two were staring at a painting

“...what is it supposed to be?” You asked tilting your head

“It’s fucking atrocious that’s what it is.”

You laughed at your boyfriend’s comment

The artist having overheard you two didn’t like the comments you were making

He was so fed up he went right up to your boyfriend

“You don’t know the first thing about art. How would you know what looks good?”

Already knowing where this was going you unhooked your arm from your boyfriend

“How would I know? Anyone with eyes can see that this doesn’t deserve to be here. These brush strokes aren’t even going the same way and you have the audacity to yell at me for not knowing anything about art?!”

(please know I know nothing about art so I’m sorry if I offended anyone🥲)

The artist having been embarrassed in front of everyone quickly exited the room

Gyokko wrapped his arm around your waist again smiling

“Ready to go love?”

Kaigaku

Dates with Kaigaku will either be super chill or chaotic

He once took you both to a rage room

It may or may not have ended with either of you crying

Another time he took you to paint pottery

It really depends on how he’s feeling that day

Tonight was going to be a chill night though

You two were laying on a mountain cuddled up on a blanket staring at the stars

“Babe look it’s orion.”

After a few seconds of him not saying anything you raised your brow “Babe?”

You looked over to see him staring at you

“Sorry I was just looking at the prettiest star ever”

You laughed at his horrible pickup line and pecked his forehead

“Thanks babe.”

Gyutaro

(ah the love of my life)

He’s not a guy who would take you to an extravagant restaurant or to walk around in a crowd

Unless that’s really want you want of course

Even then it would take a lot of convincing

You know that he doesn’t see himself that highly

(no baby you’re literally perfect please don’t talk down on yourself🥺)

He would much rather stay at his/your house and vibe

But if you REALLY REALLY want to go out he’ll arrange something

He has a spot he goes to that overlooks the city

It lets him forget his responsibilities for a while

Gyutaro: i’m outside get dressed

You raised your brow at the text but got dressed regardless

Outside he was waiting next to his motorcycle staring at the sky

“Sooo what’re we doing?”

“It’s a surprise. Here.”

He held out one of his hoodies and a helmet

You two drove for about 30 minutes before he stopped on a cliff

“We’re here.”

You walked up to the edge in awe

“Taro it’s….it’s amazing”

He hummed wrapping his arms around you resting his head on your shoulder

Yeah this is all he could ask for

Daki

Did someone say parties?

She 100% sees going to parties together as dates

I mean you get to see her in an amazing outfit

Who wouldn’t want to see that?

Now if this is your scene then there’s nothing to fix

If it’s not you’re going to have to explain that to her

You would probably take her to a flea market

Daki look around the building in utter disgust

“What the fuck? Why are we here?”

“Babe please just trust me.” You gave her a soft smile

Remembering this was supposed to be a 'date' she begrudgingly goes along with it

First you take her to the food section

She’s never seen food like this before so she’s a little hesitant

“...what is that?”

“It’s ox tail. Try it.” Hesitant she ate a piece and omg she absolutely loved it

You walk around some more until you get to the section with the perfume and jewelry

She’s absolutely amazed. They are so many different sizes with different colors.

“I want them all.”

“Babe no-”

#royal.request #demon slayer #kny #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #upper moons x reader #kokushibo x reader #akaza x reader #nakime x reader #hantengu x reader #gyokko x reader #kaigaku x reader #gyutaro x reader #daki x reader #demon slayer fluff #kny fluff #doma x reader

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wizardouxie · 3 years

Text

PANTONE 2046 C

Genre: Fluff, #ZoeAppreciationWeek

Pairing: Zouxie

Summary: The Pink Hair Origin Story (alternatively also the Blue Hair Origin Story)

Word Count: 2788

Author's Note: First day of Zoe Appreciation Week! Wanted to participate so have this not so little one shot to showcase our lovely pink haired witch <3

"Wow, the dye came out really nicely," Zoe murmurs as Douxie exits the bathroom, his hair freshly blown dry -- from its tips to the full bangs dipped in a deep yet striking blue. He smiles widely at the quiet compliment and waves over to Archie.

"How does it look Arch?" they ask, though the answer is pretty clear, if Archie's fond gaze is anything to go by. The familiar flies in to nuzzle his face.

"Dashing as ever, Douxie."

Zoe leans back into the couch with content, taking in the beautiful sight that is her best friend. She did really good. The faint buzz of adrenaline lingers on the pads of her fingers. Right, she forgot. That was her first time.

"Are. You. Crazy? I've never even dyed hair before!" the natural brown haired girl hissed. She begrudgingly wiped the bubblegum that had exploded over her lips -- a result from the initial shock when Douxie first made his request. Granted, she felt honored that they would come to her before anyone else, but still! She can't risk ruining his hair, she doesn't have experience, plus the hair salon could totally do it better and-

"I'd rather it be you than anyone else," the wizard confirmed firmly. Zoe turned to the familiar. Surely the cat who lived with this stubborn kid could knock some sense into them. Archie could only provide a shrug in response.

"They're pretty sure about this."

She groaned.

"Fine, fine! But give me a few days unless you want me to pick out the wrong dye and end up with neon green."

[ 1 Week Later ]

Zoe couldn't keep track of just how many hair channels and blogs she'd gone through. She mimicked their hand movements, using cheap wigs and mannequin heads to simulate the experience. Through it all, one voice echoed the same message: "You can't mess this up."

She bought all the necessary tools. Gloves, hair clips, bleach, foil, just to name a few. Oh, and of course the dye -- though you'll be surprised how one can forget the simplest things while getting caught up in trying to memorize everything. Blue, Douxie had asked for. But what kind of blue? Sky blue? Cobalt? Midnight? Which one? She pinched the bridge of her nose before angrily texting the wizard. It went a little something like this:

DOUX: go with whatever you think will look good! i'm fine with anything tbh :]

ZOE: i Hate you so much

DOUX: ??? WHY

ZOE: IDK SHIT ABOUT HAIR DYE HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW WHAT LOOKS GOOD

DOUX: let's talk about this in person before you electrocute your phone again

ZOE: you won't let me live that down will you

DOUX: you know me so well ;)

She shoved the phone back in her pocket. There's no way she was actually doing this for him.

She was.

"Are you absolutely sure you want to do this?" she asked for what would be around the 73rd time. Douxie pulled his face down with both hands.

"Ugh, the answer is still yes, love. I'm not asking you to dye the whole thing, just the front part, bangs and sides."

She rolls her eyes at the nickname and smacks the clean brush against his head. She smiles at the little 'ow' that Douxie lets out with a pout. Hm, cute.

"Alright, but don't start moping around if it doesn't come out the way you wanted it!"

"Nothing that a little magic can't fix if it gets to that point. Which I hardly believe it will."

And now here they are.

Douxie crashes on the couch with Zoe, slinging an arm over her shoulders. She raises an eyebrow at the sudden physical touch, but it's never unwelcome. Not when it comes to him.

"You know of all human creations, I gotta say, this one really takes the cake," they start and Zoe snorts.

"You say that about nearly everything."

"Can you blame me?"

She looks at them and no, she really can't. In fact, she finds herself agreeing with him. He looks... really nice. A faint blush spreads over her face; not that it is noticeable by any means -- the two of them happen to have done this dying process starting from the evening to night, so the dim lights in her home do little to highlight her features. This is still her Douxie, lovable guitarist and wizard nerd who cares about everyone. Yet there was something about the hair dye that changed things up a bit. Something good, naturally.

The two of them fall into a comfortable silence, doing whatever is usually available. Sometimes it's texting, scrolling through social media, or listening to music. Other times it's zoning off and reminiscing about the past.

Zoe decides to go for her phone, unconscious of the way her hand finds its way into Douxie's hair, carding through the locks and untangling them with nimble fingers. It's peaceful. Maybe even a little too peaceful, considering the two of them are adrenaline junkies.

"Douxie, I can hear you thinking..." she begins. It's a common way to start the conversation between them, and oftentimes she's right.

He turns around, her hand still in his hair, but enough to meet her eyes. Their own eyes look serious and her heart sinks. Were they not happy with their hair?

The answer is quite the opposite.

"You ever considered dying your hair too? Maybe we can match."

The untangling stops.

And then the tugging starts.

"Ow ow ow-"

"Hisirdoux Casperan you are a menace to society."

She does though. She considers it for weeks. Of course, Douxie doesn't push; it's her hair at the end of the day, she can do whatever she likes. But after seeing how well she did with the wizard, she kinda felt excited. She definitely can't forget the exhilaration she felt when she saw people compliment Douxie at Benoit's or at the GDT book store. Her heart started beating faster when he looked back at her with a proud smile on his face-- damn that wizard, they told the others that she did it for them, didn't they?

After a few days, a young girl in a cap comes up to her at the record store. Probably from Arcadia High, if her backpack stacked with books is any indication.

"Hi! I'm Claire. Claire Nuñez," the girl starts. Zoe raises an eyebrow in interest.

"Hey Claire. What can I get you?" she asks, raising a flask to her lips. There's no water. Damn.

"Um, it's not really a standard request, but um, I was wondering if you could dye my hair?"

Zoe chokes on her water. Dye her what?

"Kid, are you new here? This is a records store. I can give you the direction to the hair salon it's really not that far."

"No, no, no! It's just, this guy got their hair dyed and I asked if he did it himself and they said you did it for them so I came to you. It's nothing too big! Just a strand really," Claire rambles. She gestures to the invisible front of her hair, currently tucked away behind the cap, outlining it with her fingers. The hedge witch groans.

"That would be Douxie. Now, here's the thing I don't do this for just anyone. Douxie happens to be a close friend so what I did was a little gift for him. I don't even know you, so what do I get out of this?"

Claire pales.

"Uh, $20? I know a full head of hair costs way more but like I said, just a strand..."

Zoe's stomach rumbles in response. She had $5 currently in her wallet which could buy a snack at most. She pinches the bridge of her nose.

"Ugh, you're lucky I'm hungry. Catch me after my shift is done okay? And I only got one color on me, which is blue, you good with that? Otherwise bring your own."

"Yes of course, of course! Thank you so much."

"Yeah, yeah, now scram if you're not here to buy anything."

"Oh actually, I was wondering if you had anything Papa Skull released recently!"

Curse this girl and her good taste in music.

[ 45 minutes later; 2:00 PM ]

"Thank you for doing this by the way," Claire starts. Zoe waves it off. She doesn't really know why she agreed to this. Well kind of. She wanted to eat. But besides that, she also was curious to see if she could satisfy another "customer". Hair dying was never a profession she had properly considered and right now? It doesn't hurt to entertain a thought.

"Alright so I have the bleach, you'll need to let that set in and keep that before dying the strand you want. We can even add toner to neutralize the color post bleaching if necessary," she lists off. Claire shakes her head.

"That won't be necessary!"

The girl pulls off her cap and surely enough, there's a light blonde lock, similar to Douxie's, just a little lighter. Zoe's impressed.

"Well that definitely makes my job easier. Especially since this is my second time."

"Wait, second time?"

"You didn't know?"

"No?"

"Of course Douxie leaves that part out. You want out? I'll pay you back the $20 in four days."

"No, I trust you."

Zoe always believed that she had tough and cold demeanor. Clearly she's doing something wrong if people are finding her trustworthy just by looking at one dye job.

"Alright then, here we go! Don't say I didn't warn you," the witch replies. She wraps the cloth around Claire softly, and pulls up the bowl with the dye in it. With a gloved hand she separates the pale strands from the brown ones. The blue will definitely be more prominent here than it would be with Douxie's. Something tells her that Claire wouldn't mind.

From the looks of Claire's surprise, wonder, and delight, she definitely didn't mind.

"It. Looks. So cool! You're really good at this. Maybe you should start a hair dying salon or something," the girl rattles off. Zoe raises a hand.

"I'm already working two part time jobs so... no. But I'm glad you liked it. The blue looks really good. Stands out well."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," Claire repeats, putting back her cap on. A feeling of confusion overcomes Zoe.

"Wait, why are you putting your cap back on? Don't you want to show people?"

"Duh, but um, my mom doesn't know about, uh, all this. You know, councilwoman things."

Zoe's mouth drops, the $20 bill crumpled in her hand. So that's why she didn't go to the hair salon. Nuñez is the councilwoman, so she'd know pretty much everyone in the town. And word spreads pretty fast. In summary: Claire would have gotten caught.

"See ya!"

These kids are going to land her in some serious trouble one day.

With a burger and soda in her tray, Zoe takes a seat and pulls out her phone. That Claire girl though, she's sort of inspiring. Adventurous. Not hesitant in taking chances. And you know Zoe, she absolutely loves the thrills of life. Whether it be hunting magical creatures or refining her usually unpredictable magic. The humans tend to have mellow definition of risk taking, in her opinion, but their examples are fun enough in their own way: crossing the speed limit, riding rollercoasters, anything along those lines. The brunette clicks on a familiar contact and begins typing.

ZOE: which color looks good on me

ZOE: don't ask it's for a stupid job thing

DOUX: which job?

ZOE: WHAT PART OF DON'T ASK

ZOE: hex tech, something for employee uniforms

DOUX: i was going to say pink since it brings out your eyes but if it's for uniforms i dunno, light blue?

ZOE: hm interesting

DOUX: you should just work here at the book store it's chill

ZOE: but then i'd have to deal with you

DOUX: now is that really a bad thing?

DOUX: zoe.

Light blue is definitely a no go, Zoe decides. Too much blue dye going around. But pink, hm she could work with that. It's a pretty bold color and it would compliment her eyes as well as her face in general. A win-win for her.

And as for how far she's willing to go? She decides to go all in. No tips, no ombre, just complete bubblegum hair. Of course this takes a few days to gather the guts.

'You can do it Zoe, just go for the bleach,' she thinks to herself. Her hands shake with nervousness and excitement. Frankly, hunting niffins didn't compare to the rush she's feeling right now. She closes her eyes and brings the brush to her hair.

Well, here goes nothing.

She winces as she feels the tingling sensation, but loads of videos have assured that such symptoms were normal. She continues to work at it, using the foil to make sure she doesn't bleach a part of her hair to death. It's long and strenuous, but she knows the results in the few coming weeks would be worth it.

She doesn't have to worry about Douxie finding out thankfully. Turns out these weeks are essential for Merlin's "To-Do" List. Apparently it was to find Camelot?

"The castle he means. Not the actual kingdom. That's been gone for centuries. Anyways, I'll be back once I actually find it. Dunno how I'll do it and it probably will take me and Arch a month or so, haha. Oh! And if my hirers ask you anything, it's a family emergency."

Hm, whatever. A brief thought of Merlin dying his hair neon green amuses her, before she goes back to watching more hair dye videos. They've become a little addicting nowadays. She's amazed at how often people do it. How do they keep their hair so healthy?

It's been four weeks now and Zoe's eyes stare at the pink concoction in her hand. PANTONE 2046 C. This was the shade that stole her heart in the middle of the hair dye aisle. No other color could compare in the slightest. Even the cashier who packaged her order hummed in approval.

"Nice color! Not many go for it, but it'll suit you for sure."

This time her movements are calculated, not clumsy or fear driven like it used to be. One could even say she's getting the hang of this. Her hair over time changes from platinum blonde to a dark matted pink. She lets it sit for a bit, meanwhile focusing on getting the dye out of her hands. This turns out to be harder than she thought and she sighs. Well, maybe another day.

After washing and blow drying her hair, she stands in front of the mirror. The witch staring back at her is almost unrecognizable. As if she were a new person completely. And she liked it.

The blank stare shifts into a grin and she tugs at her own locks. Goddamn. She looks really good.

And well, Douxie's reaction is priceless to say the least.

DOUX: you said to meet up at the museum where are you

DOUX: i swear if you slept in i'll send archie to knock down everything in your apartment

DOUX: ok no i won't but still it's been a month since we last saw each other come on

DOUX: wait a second

DOUX: you're joking

DOUX: IS THAT??? YOU????

DOUX: IN THE PINK

DOUX: oh fuzzbuckets you look stunning

DOUX: Hello this is Archie. You broke Douxie so could you please finish your conversation with whoever it is you're with and come pick him up? Your hair is absolutely lovely by the way.

ZOE: omfg

ZOE: can't take you guys anywhere

The witch smiles at the girls and nods over to a gaping Douxie and his cat before gracefully exiting the conversation. She approaches her friend and pushes his jaw up with her index finger.

"So I'm assuming you're digging the new look hm?" she teases.

"You have no idea," Douxie responds. A pink tint lighter than the shade of her hair blooms across Zoe's face at the expression of adoration in her best friend's eyes. The two of them have been through a lot together, seeing each other grow and change. And this time, it was a really fun and welcome one.

"I might try this again with a different color some time. You wanna join then?"

"Don't have to ask me twice."

It's crazy how all of this came from a chaotic, impulsive research project to help a friend. But honestly Zoe wouldn't have it any other way.

Maybe Douxie was right. Of all human creations, this one beats pretty much everything else.

#ZoeAppreciationWeek #zoeappreciationweek #here's my entry hehe #enjoy!#toa #tales of arcadia #zoe #hisirdoux #hisirdoux casperan #douxie #zouxie #archie #claire #claire nuñez #ophelia #ophelia nuñez

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lovinglokilaufeyson · 4 years

Text

G-Spot - D.M

*another gif from giphy, I can never find many of Draco on here*

Pairings: Draco x Reader

Warnings: First Time, Smut, Young Love, Fluff, Fingering

Wordcount: 1508

Summary: After the Yule Ball 4th year, you and Draco decide to take your relationship to the next level.

A/N: This was a request I got a while back, but never got around to writing because of the good ol’ college transition. Sorry it took me a bit, but I hope you guys enjoy it regardless. Also, just wanted to point out that I literally have 320 followers at the moment. WHICH IS ABSOLUTELY NUTS. I never thought that this blog would reach that amount of followers, and I am grateful for every single one of you. I will make an appreciation post because holy cow. If you enjoy Criminal Minds (another of my new obsessions) also go and check out 188, my Spencer Reid one shot. Again, I love you and appreciate you all, so very much. Hope you enjoy some more Draco. @anothevr thanks for this wonderful idea! I loved writing it.

You and Draco had been dating since 2nd year. The Yule Ball marked your 2nd anniversary. People always told you that you two were just too different, that the relationship would never work. But you helped him mature, and he helped you adventure out of your comfort zone. You were a good match. Soon enough, he realized that constantly tormenting the Golden Trio was not necessary. He had better things to be doing. Thanks to you, not only had his grades improved, but his character. His parents loved you, you were a positive influence on the oftentimes troubled boy.

The night of the Yule Ball, you dressed nicely. You wore a sleek dark green dress, doing your makeup to compliment the green hues. Your lips were a nice mauve color, not too overpowering. You curled your hair, pinning a couple of the front pieces at the back of your head. You couldn’t wait to see Draco. The feelings were mutual. He simply could not wait to see you. So much so that you caught him trying to sneak a peek at you in your dress. You quickly slammed the door in his face. “Draco, no!” “C’mon babe, just a peek?” “It’s bad luck” you answered. “You’re not getting married, sweets.” You rolled your eyes, but you gave in. “Fine...” Opening the door, he stood in awe, looking at you.

“You look absolutely marvelous.” You blushed, looking at Draco who was standing closer now. “You’re so beautiful.” You kissed him, and he held you close. His hands drifted from your waist a little further down, and you held the nape of his neck. Suddenly, you felt Draco push you onto your bed, and you struggled with the thought. Did you really want to do this? At least - now? Draco ran his hands up and down your body, against the velvet texture of your lengthy dress. “You look gorgeous in this, darling. But I think it’d look better on the floor, if I’m honest.” You blushed, burying your head in your pillow. However, he soon began unzipping the dress from the side, and you had second thoughts. “Draco, Draco. Stop, please.” He obliged, immediately looking guilty for his actions. “Sorry, babe. I just can’t resist you like this.” He gave you a quick peck on the cheek as an apology. “We can wait.”

At the dance, Draco was entirely a gentleman. His hands held you close to him - but only at the waist. No touching of your ass or your boobs, thankfully. Considering your past interaction, you thought he would be more touchy. You realized how deeply blessed you were to have him. And that - you wouldn’t want your first to be with anyone else. You loved Draco.

You danced the night away with him, through party songs - as well as slow ones. You were so ecstatic to be with him. To end the night, a wonderful slow song played, and he held onto your back, and you, the nape of his neck. Swaying back and forth, you gazed into Draco’s gray blue eyes, smiling to yourself. “I love you, Draco.” You whispered. “I love you more, lovely.” He landed a kiss on your lips, which you happily returned.

Draco lead you upstairs, his intentions to simply walk you to your dorm. “Thank you, Draco, for such a wonderful night.” You thanked him, and he gave you another peck on your lips. “Thank you, Y/N.” After speaking for several minutes, Draco sighed, starting to head towards his own dorm. “Babe?” You asked, hoping to get his attention. “Yeah?” He turned around, heading back towards you. “I- um- could-” You stuttered, clearly nervous. “What is it love? Use your words...” “I could- I could stay with you. For tonight, I mean.” He nodded, excited to have you in his arms for the night.

He lead you up the stairs and into his room. “Do you have something I could wear?” You asked suddenly. He nodded. “Well, if it isn’t nothing, you can wear one of my button ups - does that work?” You nodded back at him, hesitantly. You went into his bathroom to freshen up and change. You unzipped the side of your dress, slipping out of it. You took your heels off, and realized you didn’t have a place to hang your dress. Peeking out of the bathroom, you asked Draco for a hanger, which he levitated over to you. He winked, you think he realized that you were wearing a matching deep green set on of lacy lingerie. You could tell, even from the strap. He probably made some guesses, you assumed.

You grabbed the hanger, closing the door once more. You hung up the dress with ease, leaving your heels in the bathroom. You took your bra off, hanging it with the dress. You grabbed Draco’s plain white shirt, sliding it over your shoulders and buttoning it up from the bottom. You left the top button undone, you didn’t want it to be strangled while trying to sleep. Bringing your hair towards the top of your head, you tied it into a messy bun.

Exiting the bathroom, you were met with Draco, oozing sex on the bed. Well - you didn’t know exactly, but if you had to guess - that was it. He was scantily clad in only his boxers, looking at you, once again, in awe. “You look - amazing in my shirt, babygirl.” “Thank you, Draco.” You blushed. You dove into bed with him, immediately cuddling up to his figure.

He let his hand run upon your thigh, teasingly. He laid you on your back, bringing his hand to your inner thigh, now. He pitter-pattered his fingers, and you smiled at him. You brought a swift kiss to his lips, letting it linger as he played with the band of your panties. He released the kiss suddenly, and you wondered if anything was wrong. “Everything okay, Draco?” You asked. He nodded, pecking your lips. “If you get uncomfortable at all - tell me. Let me know your boundaries, babe.” You nodded, bringing your lips back to his, pushing his lips apart. Your tongue twisted with his, fighting back and forth into each other’s mouths.

After he finished playing with the band, he begun to pull them down your legs a bit. You lifted your pelvis to allow him to pull them down further. He brought his prodding fingers to your clit, playing with it. You began to moan tirelessly, loudly - though you tried to be quiet. “Y/N?” “Yes, Draco?” You responded. “Can I make love to you?” He asked, and you nodded, slowly.

Within a few seconds, Draco had established a better position with you. He was spreading your legs, laying between them. He unbuttoned your - well, his - shirt. He pulled his boxer shorts down, and his dick rose further. He played with you a little bit further - “Merlin, you’re so ready for me.” You nodded, and he lined his dick up with you. He started slowly, and, unfortunately, you couldn’t feel too much. Well, you couldn’t tell if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

“You okay?” Draco asked, sliding in a bit further. You could feel it more, now. Just a bit. “Yeah I-” “Does it feel good?” Draco interrupted, eagerly. “It hurts a bit.” You told him. “Okay. I’ll stop for a minute. Let you get used to me. Merlin, you’re so tight, babe.” Draco stopped for a moment, and once the pain had gone away, you gave him the okay. He began pumping out, and then back in. “Feel okay, babe?” “Yeah, no more pain, really.” “Does it feel good?”

You sighed, and shook your head slightly. You needed to be honest with him. “Not really..” You stated. “Well, let’s see what we can do about that, sweets. I’m gonna try and find your g-spot, okay?” You nodded, slowly, hesitant. You felt Draco pull out - still lying on your back, he began to prod inside of you. He pushed down into your canal, and you sighed a little bit. “Is that it?” He asked. “I don’t think so, hon.” You sounded apologetic. He moved upwards a bit further, pushing. “Whoa whoa whoa” you moaned. “Youfoundityoufounditohmygodyoufo-undit” you muttered. “Merlin that feels so good.” “Good, baby. Good.” Draco sounded pleased, continuing to play his fingers in you.

“Draco please god, it feels so good.” Draco began playing with your clit too. You moaned incessantly, him flicking your clit - clumsily, and running his finger along your special spot. “Draco I’m gonna-” “Come, baby.” You became undone on Draco’s fingers, shaking intensely, letting out a loud moan. “Draco!”

“Good job, baby.” Draco smiled, coming up to face you, pecking your lips. “I’m sorry our first time wasn’t exactly-” You started, but Draco interrupted you. “No worries baby. It was perfect. We’ll try again soon.” You smiled, cuddling up to him. He was so perfect. And together, you two were perfect.

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fringchound-a · 3 years

Note

1, 6, 13, 15, and 16

Tread On My Ground || Accepting Until Fully Breached

1. What’s your oc’s most irrational fear? Is there a specific reason this fear came about?

Open Skies and Spaces. It's a fear not entirely irrational when you consider what she calls both home and mother. To other veteran stalkers of Schwarzwald, it's actually a very common one. But to those outside the boundaries of the Black Forest, it's seen as bizarre. She's learned by now to hide the unease open skies give her, the tangible vibrating nervousness of wide spaces of simply nothing. It's a survival tactic, she's sure the secret police in Stuttgart especially are trained to read certain types of questionable body language, so she hides this unease with loosely crossed arms and finding things to stand under. Shade trees, parasols, the eaves on houses and businesses. So far, it keeps her safe in public, and doubles as giving her a calmness to have something constantly over her head. You don't spend half your life in the gloom of leafy canopies and labyrinthine forests without experiencing a want for it later.

6. What kind of clothes is your oc least comfortable wearing?

She's never been too fond of anything that shows too much skin. A peek of a shoulder, or a wrist, an ankle, her neck... That's one thing. She considers that as dressed down as she'll ever feel comfortable with. But she never truly understood the need for things that show off more than you're willing to give. Some people like that, that's fine. In a way, she envies them their comfort and confidence with showing more than she would. She's more comfortable in her heaviness and layers, with maybe a rolled sleeve or pant leg here and there for heavier, dirtier work when absolutely necessary.

13. What’s your oc’s dream home like?

She never had one she considered a 'dream home'. She lives in the tavern, has an apartment in Stuttgart from an old family friend she uses when in the city. She has a room set up here and there for her in various hamlets and in Central, in her Zone. She has a Castle who she is more than sure would keep her with it forever if it could, if she wanted. If she had to choose, she'd choose the place she makes her family as her dream home, a place in the moment and the now, a place with memories already attached. Which really doesn't leave out a lot where she rests her head.

15. What’s your oc’s morning routine like?

Out Of The Zone ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ She rarely sleeps well away from her dark muffled gloom, the sound of creaking trees and the calls and movement of local wildlife and people. She's likely already awake with a lead of hours on most normal early risers. A zombie in mind and movement, stumbling in a mess of mane and whatever crumpled fabric she's swathed herself in the night before to use the facilities and give herself an existential crisis with the mirror. Or maybe she's too tired now to think in personal philosophies and instead goes through the motion routines of brushing teeth and trying to somewhat tame that nebulous bramble patch she calls hair. It's a futile effort at this hour, and she gives up the latter task when it eats the hairbrush and flings it across the bathroom. With grumbled vehemence, it's showertime, and she uses hot water and conditioners to finally brush the beast out. It won't last for too long, once it dries that's the end of it. But at least it's clean and untangled for five minutes. Papa is awake by the time she's out, and he always makes sure she has a cup of coffee to stave off the creeping morning crises while he makes breakfast. By the time the plate arrives, she's awake enough to look over the inventory sheets from the night before to determine a shipping order for later. She writes down product and quantity as necessary, as well as anything else she can think to add to the list and as soon as she is done eating, lets Papa look over it for approval after he's cleared the table. She gets herself dressed with the mane properly restrained, returning with the empty coffee mug and wearing something less conspicuous than the usual stalker-wear. It doesn't deviate much, but just enough to blend in properly with the public, which is what she needs to do. She picks up the approved shipping list and plants an affectionate kiss to the old Russian's cheek, waving farewells and grabbing the truck keys on her way out to Stuttgart.

In the Zone ~~~~~~~~~~~

It's not the feel of sunlight that wakes her, but the soft twittering of songbirds and the clacking rustle of familiar leaves. An ambiance she's used to, one that lulls her to sleep the night before and wakes her come dawn. Mornings in the Forest aren't as difficult as out of it, even if she sleeps indoors as now. A hamlet nestled somewhere in the German side of the sea of trees, a room in the house of an Oma. The little old anomalies live up to their name and culture, consistently providing for those who might need it. So long as thanks and politeness is given and their hamlets thrive, they will be happy to provide. The whisper of an early morning breeze through the Patrol Trees that surround the hamlet wisp in through the window, and the sound of groaning wood of the Forest herself coming awake are what wake her ever-faithful Guide. Along with the smell of sizzling ham. The one thing she notes as always being difficult regardless of where she wakes is the battle of her mane. She rises clad in whatever this Oma has given her for the night and once more gives up halfway through attempting to run a brush through the impossible inky mass of her hair. It stays there, anchored for later like a forgotten monument to the arrogance of God. She is in the dining room before she remembers how she got there, sitting down to a steaming slice of ham with jam on a slice of rye bread and a cup of tea; coffee culture does not exist in the Zone, so tea will suffice as substitute. The Oma is not in sight, but she is nearby, evident when breakfast is munched on and the brush starts to move. Wulf can only let it happen and does, letting her mind defragment itself into some semblance of a working order between mechanical chewing and sipping and the rhythmic pull of the brush. The plate is clean, the cup emptied as she is told her clothes are cleaned and folded upstairs. Thanks is given as the brush is handed back to her to return to its place. She should clean it out, to prevent leaving behind more of herself, but the Zone already has much of her blood, what worse could come from leaving a few hairs behind. Once it is returned to the vanity top, she finds that the Oma speaks true and the dirty layers she had come traipsing in the day before are cleaned and ironed and folded neatly on the freshly-made bed, the jacket hanging on a hook on the room's wall with her boots polished beneath it and the arsenal and baggage and respirator settled nearby. These things are not for the Oma to clean, so they remain in a state of grunge for the Guide to handle herself. She changes, leaves the night clothes folded in a haphazard neatness on the bed in their place and, after arming up, somehow appears at the front door of the cottage. It is time to leave then and as she exits, waves a gracious thanks to the little old anomaly sitting on her porch weaving. Another time, another place...

16. What’s your oc’s nighttime routine like?

Out of the Zone ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sleep is more driven by exhaustion than anything. Cut off from the fabric that remade her, she loses energy almost immediately, an imbalance that can fix itself with sleep. Getting there is a short journey that feels like it lasts for longer than it should. Unloading her equipment and baggage and placing it in an alcove behind a false wall made to look like the rest of the foundation, she defines her trail to the bathroom with a line of dirty clothes she'll pick up as she returns that way, layers released and weight she's suddenly sensitive to shed. The last thing to release is the braid and the now unrestrained hair flies into its normal cloud once undone with a spray of captured foliage pieces and a few hapless hitchhikers. Anything left will be washed away in a few moments' time. She doesn't remember how long she's under the water for, long enough it runs the hot water out. She's more than sure by now that she is clean, pale skin red from scrubbing maybe a little too hard in places. It will heal. Her mane is clear of intrusion finally, no sticks or brambles or wayward eight-legged friends left. A grueling job, but running around in dark passages and through ever-moving thickets is unkind to a mass of ink such as this. She's out and across the basement to her room, having picked up and piled her breadcrumb trail of dirty clothing, dropping it in a pile next to her door for washing later before the next excursion. A quick dry and slipping into an old t-shirt she's had since she was at least seventeen complete the nightly routine and she is quick to drowse off, waiting for her appetite to return to normal and sleep to settle in and take her. It will be a restless night.

In the Zone ~~~~~~~~~~~

"And so shall you sleep, O Child of Blood and Bone. Sleep within the embraces of that which knows you best of all..." Sleep comes easiest in the embrace of her mother. Getting there is not so difficult either. The gloom of the Forest Proper makes it hard sometimes to tell what time of day it is and the inability to use something as linear as a watch -even an old wound watch- makes it harder still, so she can only run until she is exhausted. Sometimes, she is near hamlets or one of the towns. They usually provide lodgings for peaceful stalkers, and especially the Guides. Sometimes, a friendly Castle is nearby with warm promises of lodging for a spell, regardless of it being hers or not. But sometimes, there is no civilization to help, and so she resigns herself to the trees. The Forest always provides safety when asked kindly for it, and she finds herself enveloped in its faerie tale embrace, a feeling it can't quite release itself from. Old beech trees, with their massive gnarled trunks and roots, are a favorite hovel to crawl into when provided, carefully dropping heavy armament and equipment to one side but always within range. She will coil into the depression between roots, settle herself so there is no tension, pap a bag beneath her head as a makeshift pillow. And she will sleep, listening to the creaking of the Zone around her, a sort of lullaby played in the shifting tones of groans provided like a mother tucking in her sleep-addled child.

@connor232universe

#Ask Meme #OC Questions #connor232universe

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incorrect-ikevamp-quotes · 4 years

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Hello yes, could you elaborate on the Comte wedding event pleease. Crying and fangirling and dying are all acceptable. I missed it and I adore your rambles about Comte? Thank you either way.

!!! I’d be delighted to!! And awww, I’m so glad :D I love to write about him in any capacity, it makes me so happy to know people enjoy it when I do! Tysm for the full license to cry/fangirl/die because lbr it ain’t a Comte event if all three of those things don’t happen .Please don’t worry, I don’t mind talking abt it anyway! 💕💕💕

Okay my fellow Comte stans, you know the drill! I’ll be placing the details of the Wedding Story Event (jpn version) below the cut! Please don’t read if you want to wait for the official translation, and I hope you enjoy if you do take a peak! c:

AIGHT Y’ALL in fair Verona where we lay our scene-- This event begins on a lovely summer day with Comte and MC at a boutique picking out a wedding dress for their upcoming ceremony. As usual, she provides a bit of background as to how we got here. Comte doesn’t have a proposal event (as far as I know) like the other suitors because he actually proposes marriage in his MS. I won’t go too far into details just in case, but they essentially swear their love to each other in a church at night--just the two of them. (I’m not 100% sure, but I think this event takes place on the anniversary of the vow that they shared, what Comte called becoming “a vampire’s bride.” Yes it’s as hot as it sounds AND I LOVED IT). Now, despite their private promise to each other, Comte does specify that he fully intends to have a public wedding whenever she feels comfortable doing that. As such, this event is picking up from there.

With all the nitty gritty settled, it’s time to get to the fun bits. So Comte is weaving in and out of the dresses, trying to find the perfect one for his beloved. MC is equal parts exasperated but amused, and she notes that it reminds her so much of when she first debuted in high society (reference to the beginning of Comte’s MS). Back then, when she agreed to debut, he told her that he would immediately send word to his tailor to make the necessary preparations. It’s a kind of nostalgic moment; she remembers how thorough and excited he was (”I’ll be sure to show off your every charm”), and he’s effusing that energy in the boutique too. Eventually he settles on two of them and requests that they both be prepared, and MC sputters. She’s like Comte???? W H Y we only need one dress???? And he insists that, since it’s a special occasion, there’s no harm in it is there? He also goes on to say that it is in line with her culture’s tradition of “dyeing the bride in the husband’s colors.” MC shoots back that the tradition doesn’t entail several wedding dresses for the bride, but he pays the correction no mind. Y’all. I loved this part because it just emphasizes how much of a LIL SHIT he can be. Like he’s 100% harmless but I was like BOI IF U DON’T--I WILL KISS UR CUTE FACE. YOU STOP THAT.

I find it interesting especially because it remains in line with a trend about Comte that is so arresting for me, something that I find so endearing about him. I’ll note other places in the event I find it, but in this moment he is revealing something critical: for all of his capacity to play with the language and expectations that other people have/use, he only ever uses it for good. Here he’s purely being playful (with a stark note of respect and awareness); he has no intention of overwhelming her or undermining her cultural expectations of what a wedding means. Especially because MC, even in her monologue, isn’t truly upset--she honestly seems to find it adorable and funny more than anything. It’s also clear that Comte is working within her comfort zones. While he would buy the entire damn boutique if she let him, he settles on two because he knows it would stress her out otherwise (MC tends to be p pragmatic, not really about extravagance she is a mood).

And so they make their selection and exit the boutique, and they’re walking arm in arm back to the carriage. Comte laments narrowing it down to only two, but he’s happy they found something nice. MC thanks him for bringing her along, but he says it’s only natural--he wanted to pick out the dress the world would see together, he would never be happy with it otherwise. MC melts (WHO WOULDN’T) and says she’s really looking forward to wearing them, and he’s shook AF.

(OKAY BUT I NEED TO SCREAM ABOUT THIS. DOES HE UNDERSTAND HOW TOUCHED I AM. DOES HE KNOW. His route hammers home this idea that for Comte, being with someone absolutely means being on the same page. It means being there for each other yes--but it also means making sure the other person feels wanted and included. He could have so easily just picked his favorite and been like “yeah this is what we’re going with.” But not only does he not do that, he refuses the very idea of a ceremony without it. He wants this to mean something for both of them, and he’s more than willing to put in the time and effort to ascertain that. I’M FUCKING TENDER OKAY. HE CARES SO MUCH AND I SOB)

He asks her if there’s anything else that she really, really wants for their wedding, and she thinks it through. It’ll be a reasonably sized wedding, with the men of the mansion in attendance and most of their closer high society friends. They’ve picked out a dress, the venue is set, the people closest to her will be there...she really can’t think of anything else? So she asks him if he has anything he really wants to do for the wedding, and he replies in the negative too, saying that “My only ideal wedding can be one in which I can see you at your most happy." ARE YOU KIDDING ME--Before MC can recover from that, he goes on: "Even now, I'm enjoying the preparations, and I want to do whatever I can for you." MC feels like she can never win against his sweet affection, so she nearly kills him with her answering line: "It’s more than enough. More than anything, being able to swear our love together again--to renew our vow--is the best part of it all." Comte is visibly shocked and is quiet for moment (MAN DOWN!!!!!!!!! VAMPIRE DOWN GET THE DEFIBRILATORS!!!!! LEONARDO PUT THAT LIGHTNING ROD AWAY I SWEAR TO GOD--) before he just replies with a “Is that so :>>>” And translating this nearly killed me [At the sight of his gentle smile, I smile back.] IM GOING TO SCREAM THEY ARE JUST SO TENDER IM SOFTE????????????

As they’re walking, Comte asks MC to tell him about weddings in her time. What were they like? He wants a reference point. She goes on to describe how ceremonies really range from formal to more informal affairs, and gets to a little custom that’s apparently held in Japan. When a groom intends to marry a bride, he will go to the bride’s family to ask for their approval. Comte visibly seems concerned about it, and I’m pretty sure he feels bad denying her that experience; not only did he propose to her without knowing any of that, her family isn’t within range to be able to honor it properly now. Even so, he keeps listening and comments now and again with a great deal of interest, paying close attention. He asks, what happens if the groom is rejected by the family? MC goes on to say that it’s a kind of test of perseverance: the groom is expected to ask/prove himself until he gets an answer in the affirmative. Internally, she notes that such a thing rarely ever happens irl--it’s mostly dramatized in movies and TV shows. She used to dream of how thrilling it might be to have someone do that for her, but it was mostly just a silly little fancy, nothing she was obsessed over. Comte, being a literal fucking legend, senses this emotional shift in milliseconds, and starts musing about something. When she tries to ask what’s up, he’s like not to worry leave everything to me.

PLEASE CUE THE CIRCUS MUSIC. BECAUSE THIS IS ABSOLUTELY GOING TO TURN INTO A CLOWN FEST.

So it cuts to them back home and Comte is asking Sebastian to give MC’s hand in marriage. Sebastian is utterly bEWILDERED and is like “I mean I understand I’m probably the closest relative she has right now but also WHAT!? YOU’RE MY BOSS/LORD I’M YOUR BUTLER FOR CRYING OUT LOUD”. Comte 100% is undaunted by this very normal reaction and insists that class/status has no place in matters like this, and Sebastian and MC are desperately trying to stop him from bowing his head/kneeling. MC notes she never expected him to take it to heart, tells him "Comte, you really don't have to go that far, it's a custom not a duty--" (IT’S SO FUCKING FUNNY????? YOU CAN FEEL THEIR MOUNTING CONCERN AND I CAN’T BELIEVE COMTE WAS STRAIGHT UP JUST “i am not above begging” AND THEY’RE LIKE YOU SHOULD BE YOU SHOULD BE ABOVE BEGGING)

The circus only escalates when Leo comes in LAUGHING HIS ASS OFF "damn...bahahahhahahaaaaa now THIS oughtta be good/interesting." MC (and I simultaneously) start yelling at him and he replies "What? Comte's already ready and willing, why stop him?" For whatever reason, this gives Comte an idea (NEVER A GOOD SIGN) and he’s like you know what? That’s actually perfect, get everybody in here I’m gonna ask them for permission too :D

Several things I want to say about this. 1. COMTE LITERALLY DOES NOT EVEN REACT TO LEO’S MOCKING HE JUST “omg ur face was useful for smth for once this gives me an idea” 2. META TIME. First and foremost, I seriously can’t deal. This man knows MC has nothing because of her traveling through time, no friends or family--he’s always so, so aware of what she’s sacrificing to be with him. It is never outside of his thinking. Not only does this decision solidify her presence as a member of their family (I’m just so UGLY SOBBING about the fact that he does not consider them all ANYTHING LESS--THEY ARE HIS CHIRREN AND HE LOVES THEM AND I’M SOFT) this is also such a brilliant, strategic move on his part. Not only is he doing this to fulfill her younger wishes of having someone be so confident in their love for her that they would insist on it in front of her family/loved ones--his doing this also solidifies her presence as his wife within the mansion from here on. There can be no mistake; this is an unquestionable statement as to how her identity has shifted in meaning, a powerful allusion to his possessive streak. (and WE LOVE THAT FOR US HELL YEAH)

Furthermore, I continue to be fascinated by the way he keeps subverting traditional or expected forms of supplication. While many could see this as a yielding of his pride (and in some ways he undeniably is) this choice to acknowledge her culture’s customs yields much more valuable dividends for him. 1. MC--notorious for never betraying the things she wants, having trouble asking for anything--is have her dreams fulfilled even if they were just silly little fantasies from when she was young. He’s actively making her happy, and he gets to openly gush about how much he loves her (FOR HIM THIS IS THE DEFINITION OF A WIN-WIN YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND--) 2. This is a way for him to make amends and do proper respect to the marriage customs of her place/time, and that’s infinitely important to him. He’s trying to set a precedent; that even if he ever does make a mistake or neglect something (even if accidental) he will do his utmost to make it right, pride and money be DAMNED.

While it can be argued that he’s just being silly and over-the-top, when you look closely this is 100% a clever, very mindful approach to their future. While it may partially have been executed on an emotional/excited whim, he is also claiming MC as his own in the most clear and respectful way possible. And tbh that’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen

So, after Leo walks in on them everyone else starts filing in one at a time (OKAY YOU CAN’T CONVINCE ME THAT THEY WEREN’T ALL HUDDLED UP TO THE DOOR SQUIRMING TO HEAR WHAT WAS GOING ON AND AT SOME POINT LEO SAID “omfg i gotta see this dumbass bitch on his knees” AND BLEW THEIR COVER/MADE THEM EVEN MORE CURIOUS):

Jeanne: "It's so noisy in here."

Mozart: "What's going on?"

Comte: "Ah, excellent timing. I want to get permission from everyone."

Vincent: "?????? Did you do something wrong Comte?? What could you possibly need forgiveness for?"

Isaac: "A mistake made/wrongdoing by Comte?...Why am I dreading what it could be..."

Dazai: “Ah yes, yes I see, you are asking for a young lady's hand in marriage” (IM WHEEZING BC EVERYONE ELSE IS SO LOST AND HE'S JUST 100% ON THE BALL KNOWS EXACTLY WHAT'S GOING ON THE NARRATIVE DISSONANCE IM CRYING)

Theo: Young lady??? The hell are you going on about

So things are getting increasingly chaotic and MC is just [jfc this is getting out of hand, Comte they don’t even know what you’re asking them to do]. She tries to explain but falters, and Comte puts an arm around her--signals that he’ll give them the context. So he tells them "You all know that our wedding day is approaching. As such, I'm asking you all for your approval in taking MC as my bride. No matter what happens, I promise to make her happy forever--for every moment, every second of our time together. Please, forgive my taking her" (WHEN I TELL YOU MY HEAD WAS IN MY HANDS IDK HOW MC DIDN’T DIE ON THE SPOT S I R. SIR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) MC: [...Comte...My heart melts at his confession, at his earnest plea. It feels like every single iota of our feelings are infused in every word he speaks, teeming with the love shared between us in overwhelming measure.]

For a little while silence falls until Napoleon speaks up, and honestly? It was so sweet ;-; I tear up every single time: “Forgiven. You know how much I dislike formalities anyway. And besides, who could say no to le Comte?” MC notes that everyone murmurs in agreement and a kind of warmth settles in the room. Arthur notes that MC will be a Comtesse very soon and MC just. I’m going to be a WHAT now (”C-c-comtesse??”). And it’s so FUCKING FUNNY YOU CAN FEEL THE RED EYE EDIT MEME ON COMTE WHEN HE GOES “Oh? Is there anything wrong with that? Everybody said yes, after all :>” MC internally accuses them of ganging up on her, but reveals that more than anything she’s a little overwhelmed by the outpouring of love in the best way:

MC: [Overwhelmed with feeling; touched, a little shy, embarrassed, but also full of joy--my eyes burn at the edges with tears] “I'm glad everyone approves c:”

Comte: Agreed :> your country/homeland has a nice custom. A v important step to inviting my loved one into my life as my wife :>>>>

So it then cuts to them in Comte’s room after the circus and MC thanks him for the sweet confession in front of everyone, tells him how happy it made her. He insists that it was only natural he would, and that it isn’t even enough.

Comte: “I am the one...your life, your time as a human being; I'll be taking all of it from you.”

MC: [...Comte? He took my hand with a very serious expression]

Comte: "As I said before, I will make you a vampire someday."

MC: “Don't call it that--a price. I want to live with you too!”

MC notes that while she hasn’t made the leap yet, she knows she’ll be ready for it soon enough.

Comte: “Thank you. But the last thing I want is to take things from you, I want to do everything I can to make you happy, to make you smile. Whether that means weddings, requests--anything in my power.”

COMTE REALLY SAID "she is entrusting me with her future and that means I have the responsibility of not only ascertaining her happiness, but proving my unwavering devotion to it" AND IM HOLLERING????? LADIES GET YOU A FUCKING MANS. MC finally begins to understand this, and she’s like OMFG is that why you went off so hard this afternoon???? And Comte’s like :>>>> guilty as charged, though I think I'm also just still excited about the wedding too, haha! They hug it out (YESSSSSSS LET ME H O L D) and MC asks him again if there’s anything he wants for the wedding too. Aight y’all I would be irresponsible if I didn’t warn you beforehand, get fucking tissues. I’m still upset abt his answer and I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL. He thinks about it for a bit, before kissing her forehead and saying “I suppose, can you pray for my happiness too? That's enough."

AIGHT IMMA GO BACK TO THE EVENT IN A SECOND BUT I GOTTA SAY. BITCH. BITCH ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME????? COMTE THAT ISN’T OPTIONAL THAT’S A GOD DAMN PREREQUISITE?????????????????? OFC WE WISH FOR YOUR HAPPINESS WHAT THE FUCK??????????????? THE A U D A C I T Y. I’VE NEVER BEEN MORE INSULTED IN ALL MY LIFE. OKAY RANT OVER.

MC is surprised but naturally agrees to it, having wanted that for him even without prompting. She continues to think on it, insisting that she wants to do something for him too. An idea sparks but it only says that she made preparations without telling him anything for now, preparing a tangible sign of her love for the wedding.

The premium end begin here. She’s getting dressed for the wedding, and she’s--as usual--in awe of his perfect selection of accessories/jewelry to go with the gown. She’s about to put on her shoes when she notices something odd, and there’s a knock at the door. Comte enters to ask if she’s ready, and they both freeze and stare at each other. They both sheepishly admit to being completely taken with the sight of the other, and they laugh about it together. Comte tries to ask if she’s ready again, and she assures him that she is--just that she found something unexpected in her shoes.

He explains that the coin is an English six pence. Sebastian told him that they are no longer made in her time, and Comte explains he acquired it about three hundred years ago in England when he was living there (he says that he kept it back then because he liked the design on it). He explains that there is a tradition, that the English would put a six pence in a bride’s left shoe in the hopes of wishing her good fortune and prosperity in her oncoming union. MC has her understandable and customary (JESUS I FORGET HOW OLD THIS MAN IS SOMETIMES) and he places a hand over hers that’s holding the coin when she starts staring at it.

Comte: "Hey, MC....Time goes by, and various things will continue to change. Among them, it is only vampires who survive without dying or changing."

MC: "Comte..."

Comte: "I used to think that made it--made us--empty. But...I don't think that's the case anymore. I'm proud of being able to keep this undying, unchanging love for you."

[He put the coin back in my left shoe, and offered them to me--gentle as though they were made of glass(Cinderella's)]

MC spends this exchange on the verge of tears, but keeps it together for the wedding. It depicts their loved ones all around them as they walk down the aisle, and skips to the end of the ceremony. The priest tells Comte he may now kiss the bride (WHEN I WAS TRANSLATING IT SAID “KISS YOUR BUSINESS” AND WHEN I TELL YOU I WHEEZED), but just as he’s about to lift her veil--she stops him in his tracks. He’s confused, and says her name, but she reassures him that she just wants to offer him a wedding gift before he lifts it. Hidden in her bouquet are two pins that she had made, and she pins them to his jacket. They were made from preserved flowers, encased in metal to render them undying/everlasting.

MC: [Me too...I want to wish for your happiness...]

MC: “For you, things might feel fleeting--like they just pass you by, are lost before you can grasp them. But even so, my feelings won't change; just like this preserved/undying flower and the life of a vampire--dedicated to [Comte's real name] in everlasting love."

COMTE.EXE HAS CURRENTLY SHUTDOWN. REBOOTING.

MC notes that his eyes get misty and he leans his forehead against hers.

MC: [Comte's real name]?

Comte: .................I want to hug you as tight as I possibly can, but I'd hate to ruin the flowers/your gift to me

BITCH WHEN I TELL YOU I SOBBED. WHEN I TELL YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 1. I CANT GET OVER THE FACT THAT HER GIFT IS NOT ONLY CANON BUT ITS LITERALLY ON HIS WEDDING SPRITE, HER LOVE IS A VISIBLE MANIFESTATION ON HIS PERSON ALWAYS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 2. THE FACT THAT SHE ONLY ADMITS TO BEING THE HAPPIEST SHE CAN BE WHEN SHE SEES HIM SO HAPPY TOO. THIS IS SO MUCH. SO M U C H

And so Comte lifts her veil and kisses her gently uwu cover ur eyes chirren, the hall erupts in raucous applause and the crowd starts congratulating them!! Comte then encourages everyone to have fun, and the reception takes on the vibe of a kind of social gathering. MC notes that he seems to prefer this level of interaction, just relaxed and everyone chill, and she turns to tell him that it seems like it’ll be fun! Before she can finish her sentence, he kisses her fiercely before leaning back with a sigh, "It's still not enough, but I'll save the rest for later tonight." BITCH!!?!?!??!??!? HOW THE FUCK CAN ANYONE FOCUS ON A STUPID PARTY WHEN YOU SAY SOMETHING LIKE THAT, HELLO???????MC notes: [Everyone from the mansion that saw the kiss made fun of me endlessly, and I hid my face in my bouquet] SAVE HER. Once again, it skips to the end of the reception and they’re now in Comte’s room. (I will blink twice if I think you need tissues BLINKS TWICE)

Comte: "Yup, perfect." [He places the flower pins I gave him next to THE hourglass in the room, looking pleased HNGNNGNGNNGGNGN MY EYE HOLES ARE SUFFERING

MC: "I'm glad you liked the gift c:"

Comte: "It is proof of your unchanging love, of course I cherish it :>"

She’s just so happy to see him so delighted with it. He asks how she liked the ceremony, and she gushes about how much she loved it. He hugs her (AWWWWWWWWWWWW) and then he notes that while it was fun to celebrate, all he wants now is time with his wife (AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA). He starts kissing her like the world is ending, and she says she needs to get changed--but he doesn’t care, says she’s fine as she is and that he wants her right now.

Aight usually I don’t get into epilogue territory, but honestly, this shit was JUST too good. Now this man made of magic asks MC if she’s wearing her bridal garter (you know, the one that usually comes with the whole bride ensemble in Western tradition). And she’s like ???? Uh, yeah, of course? Why... He says that he saw something interesting at a friend’s wedding reception once upon a time, and explains that the garter is usually removed and thrown to the bachelors (analogous to the bride’s throwing her bouquet, and whoever catches it will be the next to get married). PLEASE NOTE HE IS KISSING HER FOR LIKE 90% OF THIS IT’S AMAZING

MC: "So it's like the bouquet toss?"

Comte: "Yes. Now then, how did he remove the garter...?”

HE DUCKS DOWN AND SHE’S LIKE COMTE!?!?

Comte: “...Ah yes, the groom removes it with his teeth >:D”

And so this man HAS THE TIME OF HIS LIFE tugging it down slowly under her dress, caressing her legs and loving every part of her. MC’s face is on fire, and she’s torn between being turned on and embarrassed. Eventually he reappears after teasing her MERCILESSLY and admits that he didn’t do it at the reception because he didn’t want anyone else to see her reaction. Blushing, shy, desirous--all of these feelings are his to keep and enjoy. (I!!!!! LOVE!!!!!!!!!! HOW SUBTLY POSSESSIVE HE IS AAAAAAAAAA) MC notes internally that she feels the same way about him, how he only shows this intensely passionate side to her. Comte is uncharacteristically impatient and frenzied that night, and they both go at it.

It skips to midnight where the two are cuddling in the aftermath, just being cute and happy. Comte, the absolute MADLAD is already thinking about how to celebrate next year--and she just giggles at him (he’s a wackadoo but he’s her wackadoo LMFAO MOOD) and he laughs with her. They essentially swear to promise their love over and over in the future, and it just ends on that wholesome note :>>>

Also can I just. The fact that he lived for so long alone, but was always, always paying attention to all of these little things that are done with a person’s loved one ;-; that he would remember his friend doing that at his wedding and be like BROOOOO I WANNA DO THAT IF I EVER GET MARRIED!!!!!!!!!!! I just. It’s so heartbreaking and touching at the same time, I just want to hold him forever ;-; the fact that he doesn’t seem to worry as much about his own happiness, seems absolutely floored that MC would do anything in return. I JUST LOVE HIM WITH EVERYTHING INSIDE OF ME

THIS IS WHAT PEAK PERFORMANCE LOOKS LIKE

#asks #ikevamp #ikemen vampire #ikevamp spoilers #ikevamp comte #ikevamp saint germain #ikevamp wedding event #NOW I CAN REST IN PIECES O-<--<#today on: reasons why i would die for comte no.347 #will i ever stop? no #do i have a problem? probably #but i have a tumblr account and the ability to write and i am making that everyone else's problem fdkjlhgfdjkh #but i hope you enjoyed my rambles!!!#you're always welcome here friend! :D #tho yall story time #when he asked abt the garter i started SCREECHING bc i knew EXACTLY where it was going #in middle school i saw a guy do it once at a wedding but i didnt know what the sex^TM was so i didnt think anything of it #i was like haha weird wedding tradition go brrrr why is everyone whistling #and when i was reading i just immediately was sent back and i was like OMFG HE'S GONNA DO IT ISN'T HE THE WILD MAN #but honestly i cant get over how romantic comte is #he has no necessity to enact all these little rituals--i dont really know if he even believes in any kind of religion at all #(i dont think he does honestly but he never speaks to it directly)#but the thought of sharing that with her #of doing those things to make her happy and express his feelings #it makes me so very softe #i dont even believe in all of those wonderful things and yet he makes me want to humor that kind of belief #also idk why the cuts arent working properly on the tumbles i apologize in advance im trying to figure out why

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rosy-wooyoung · 4 years

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Husband series [3/8] | Yunho

Word count: 4.4k Pairing: ex-husband! Hongjoong x single mom! reader x boyfriend! Yunho Genre: fluff A/N: you can clearly see that i got more inspired for some than others :)

“Y/N,” your boss appeared next to you, making you turn your head from your screen, “can you follow me in my office, please?” you agreed and locked your computer, heels resonating on the floor as you followed the man ahead of you.

Closing the door behind you, he saw you standing up and offered you a seat, which you happily took. Your new pair of heels gave you blisters and, the more you stayed seated, the less your feet would make you suffer.

“What I’m about to ask you is a bit of a delicate issue, but I really need to know.” Your eyebrows furrowed as you stared at your boss, who had an uneasy smile plastered on his face. “What’s your current personal situation?” “What-” “You’ll understand why I ask you that in a minute. Do you live in a house, in an apartment with someone? I really need to know, it’s for business matters.” “I- I live in an apartment on my own,” you hesitantly said, antagonised by his question, “why is it important to know where I live?” “I remember you telling us during a night out with our colleagues that you enjoyed travelling, isn’t it?” you nodded as his words and relaxed a bit when you understood that it seemed to be, indeed, for business matters.

“You know my brother works in South Korea for our company,” your boss stated, dusting off his sleeve, “he called because he needs someone to come work with him. One of his colleagues got terminally ill and someone needs to replace him. And, since you are passionate about travelling and discovering new cultures, I immediately thought of you for this job.” You played with your earrings as you thought about his offer. “You don’t need me to give me an answer right now, but the quicker, the better,” he said with a smile as he crossed his hands on his desk. “I’ll think about it, thank you for your offer,” you beamed as you stood up, slightly grimacing as you felt the back of your shoes rub against your blisters. “Give me an update by the end of the week please, I need to keep him informed about the situation,” “Of course.” You declared and exited his office, wishing him a good afternoon.

“Y/N, that’s an amazing offer! Why didn’t you accept it straight away?” your friend said, and you frowned. “Soona, it’s not something that you choose on an impulse,” you scolded her and she kept smiling, “do you realise that I have to leave my family, my colleagues, you, my apartment, everything I have here? No, I need to think about it,” you groaned as you took a sip of your drink. “Y/N, South Korea!! Yes, it’s on the other side of the globe but I don’t think that another opportunity will present itself later in your career. Yes, I’ll miss you, but nowadays, it’s simple to keep in touch with technology. Whatever you choose, I’ll support you.” “Thank you,” you said as you squeezed her hand and she smiled.

You spent the following days at your apartment deep in thoughts, weighing up the pros and cons of leaving your home country. Everyone around you seemed to encourage you, but you were actually too scared to leave your comfort zone and move abroad. Yes, you loved travelling, but at the end of every single of your travel, you knew that you were coming home, in your lovely apartment. It was something you cherished. On the other side, moving abroad looked very appealing and your friend was right, it might be the only occasion for you to travel for business matters in a foreign country. On Friday, you assuredly arrived at work, immediately going to knock at your boss’ office.

“Come in!” he said, and you entered, his eyes never leaving his computer screen. When he noticed that it was you, he immediately smiled and stood up, offering you the same seat at the beginning of the week. This time, you refused it. “I accept your offer,” you said as you clutched your files in your hands. His reaction was immediate; he widely smiled and extended his hand for you to shake it. “Amazing Y/N, I knew that you’d accept it.” You chuckled and you kept talking with him about your plans. He gave you his brother’s phone number to help you get things done with your new boss.

After spending a few nights on the phone planning everything with your boss’ brother, you managed to get everything ready and done for your arrival. Soona and some of your colleagues helped you pack and sell the things you didn’t need, and you were ready to go. The morning following your leaving do, Soona and her boyfriend helped you carry your suitcases to the airport and watched you board the plane.

“I’ll miss you,” your friend said as she hugged you and you laughed. “Now you’re sad to see me leave,” she chuckled as she wiped the tears away from her eyes, her boyfriend kissing the side of her head as a sign of comfort. “Of course, I’m sad to see you go, but I know that travelling is your passion so I can’t stop you from doing what you love.” You softly rubbed her forearm as you felt the tears pricking up your eyes. “I’ll buy you two plane tickets and you’ll come and visit me, I promise,” her boyfriend grinned and the two hugged you one last time before letting you go.

The few first months following your arrival were hard. You weren’t really working for the company, your boss paid a Korean tutor and you were exhausted. The courses were intense, but you still managed to progress quite quickly. You absolutely despised the speaking lessons you had because it wasn’t your strength, but she was nice enough to not make fun of you or correct you when it was necessary. Your new colleagues warmly welcomed you to your new office, introducing themselves and showering you with compliments. It was nice because they made sure to include in conversations, encouraging you as you answered questions with ease.

One night, one of your colleagues – also one of your closest friends - approached you and told you that she invited people for a meal out since she got a promotion.

“Mingi is going to pick you up at 7 from your place, is that alright for you?” “It’s perfect, thank you Hyunjae,” you said as you smiled to the woman in front of you, bowing before leaving to catch the bus to go home. “Mingi! Sit across Y/N, I wanna be next to her,” Hyunjae fought her colleague as he was about to sit down next to you, only to have Hyunjae dragging him out of his seat and hurriedly sat down next to you. You giggled at the scene, feeling quite special that people were fighting to sit next to you. As you looked up to stare at Mingi and his pouty face, you noticed a man talking with him, someone that you’ve never seen before. He was quite smaller than Mingi, but it didn’t prevent him from being extremely handsome. He shook Mingi’s hand and looked at the table, smiling at Hyunjae as he took a seat across from her. You took the opportunity of Mingi throwing a joke at him to ask your friend more about this handsome man.

“Does he work at our office? I've never seen him before,” you said as you discreetly gestured to the man in front of you. Your friend chuckled and she shook her head with a smile. “No, but he’s a good friend of ours, his name is Hongjoong. He was in the company before but left to get a job that he actually enjoyed.” You nodded as she explained to you everything, your eyes never leaving him. Once he turned his head and caught you staring, he smirked and laughed along with your friend as he caught the two of you gossiping about him. “Hongjoong, this is Y/N, she’s the foreign employee I told you about.” “Nice to meet you,” you said as you extended your hand across the table, his warm and soft palm touching yours and lightly shook it. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you Y/N,” he said and you smiled, replacing a strand of hair behind your ear, “You know that Hyunjae can be a chatterbox sometimes, she told me a lot about you,” your friend scoffed next to you and your eyes widened at her words. “Because you asked for it, that’s why I was telling you about her.”

That night was the night that changed your life. You had started to get along very well with Hongjoong and it took you less than a month to start dating, and you were the happiest girl on Earth. He was caring, treating you like a queen, always here for you when you needed him.

Over three months of dating, he offered you to move in with him, no longer bearing the distance separating each other. You had started to leave some of your belongings around his place, sometimes spending the evening together. You needed to have clean clothes and makeup at his place when something like this happened, you couldn’t see yourself going to work with the same outfit as the day before and bare face. It only happened once, and you wouldn’t have left the house if Hongjoong didn’t convince you that you looked beautiful without makeup. You were getting tired to live at the other side of the town, forced to ride public transports for work AND to see your boyfriend, so you accepted.

Months of dating turned into years and you were still extremely happy with your relationship and your job. During the past years, you had been promoted several times, making you now the manager of the team you worked in when you arrived. You were close to celebrating your fourth year among this company and you would do anything to stay here as long as possible. On your fifth year of dating, Hongjoong proposed to you. He had prepared a wonderful dinner, cosy at home, just as you liked them. As you were arriving at dessert, Hongjoong came out of the kitchen and faced you, getting down on one knee and you jumped in his arms, not letting him time to make a speech to express his love to you.

Your colleagues and friends were here to see you walk down the aisle, ready to see you seal your love with a wonderful partner, who cried when you appeared in his field of vision. Everyone expected a child within the few months following your honeymoon, but it never came. It’s not like you didn’t try, it simply didn’t work. You knew that you shouldn’t stress about it, but you couldn't stay indifferent about it. You wanted to have children with Hongjoong, and he really did too, but Mother Nature wasn’t really keen on giving them to you right now. You reassured yourself by telling you that you still have years to try, adoption being the current worst-case scenario.

Near your eighth year of common life, things somehow started to work, and you once went to work without feeling the greatest. You didn’t last until lunch, collapsing on the floor without a reason. Hyunjae and Mingi drove you to the hospital and that’s where you discovered that you were pregnant and heavily dehydrated. The father-to-be was in heaven, carefully taking you in his arms, spinning you around as you told him the great news. You gave birth to Jaehwa, a little boy named after his grandfather, after months filled with excitement and pain. Hongjoong was an amazing father, taking care of your son as you rested from your months of pregnancy. He helped around the house, woke up at night when Jaehwa was teething, you clearly couldn’t ask for a better husband. He made you feel in heaven during the entire time you were carrying his child, sometimes feeling ugly and self-conscious about your body changes. He kissed your tears away and fed you with your weird pregnancy cravings when you needed him, bringing you nothing but happiness.

However, everything must come to an end. One day, as your one-year-old son was playing with his toys in his room, you received a call from a hospital from your home country. The nurse on the other side of the phone told you that your mom suddenly fell extremely sick, your anxiety instantly spiking up. You were panicking, ready to leave everything behind you to take care of your mother, but Hongjoong calmed you down once he came home from work. You called your dad the following day, only for him to tell you that he needed to work twice harder to pay for your mother’s hospital and medicine bills and everything alongside those. Your heart broke as you were the only one left to take care of her, feeling trapped. Should you leave the loving family you built with your bare hands behind and to take care of your dying mother, or do you stay here without doing anything? You loved your family, but you needed to take care of your mother. She did a lot to help you, comfort you and make you successful in your work and health, you couldn’t let her down after all the things she’s done for you.

You told your husband about your choice and, that night, all the tears that you had in your body rolled down your cheeks, feeling awful about your choices. The following nights were spent in dead silence, Hongjoong hugging you as you cried to his chest, your son peacefully in his room, completely oblivious to the storm his little family was going through. You weren’t as productive at work as you were before, and your boss noticed that. Just like his brother, he called you in his office and you went there, head hanging low. You explained to him your current situation and he offered you to call his brother to take you back, but you declined. You didn’t want to leave Korea, you had too many memories and friends here to leave everything behind like a coward.

However, that’s exactly what you did.

One day, you woke up and went to the kitchen, only to find Hongjoong preparing breakfast for the three of you. Your eyes filled with tears as you saw the view, knowing that it’ll never be the same after what you were about to tell him. You knew that you were about to break everything you had built with him.

“Joonie?” You timidly said as you walked towards him, resting your head between his shoulder blades. His body scent and laundry made you purse your lips and let your tears roll down your cheeks. “Yes, honey?” You made sure that Hongjoong didn’t have anything near him that could hurt him, and you told him those four words that'll end everything. “I want a divorce.” You felt Hongjoong’s body stiffen before going numb, his hand dropping the spatula on the counter.

After explaining to him that it’d be less hurtful and easier for the two of you to just divorce, Hongjoong was defeated and hurt. He understood that your plans were good, your intention wasn’t to hurt anyone, he knew that he shouldn’t feel angry, but he couldn’t help. He was angry and upset that you were willing to let go of him and all of those years that you spent together so easily.

Going back to your country and taking care of your mother had to be the saddest and hardest part of your life. You had to see your mother’s state decreasing day by day and you couldn’t do anything about it. You went back to your former workplace, but it wasn’t the same. You weren’t the same. You couldn’t bring yourself to be happy and lively as you were. Everything was ruined, you messed up. Jaehwa sensed your distress and cried more, cuddled more, he was the only source of light that you had in your life. Every day, you were leaving him at the day-care centre, your heart breaking even more than it already was as you waved at your son with tears in the eyes. You buried yourself into work, sometimes exchanging emails with colleagues in South Korea, who sent you nothing but support during your hard time. You worked hard and spent extra hours to earn the maximum you could, but it wasn’t enough to keep your mother alive. You destroyed everything you had, only to passively watch your mother spend her last few days on Earth. Not even medicine could save her, so what did you think you could you do?

A few months after your mother’s funerals, you decided that you couldn’t stay here any longer. Your heart was in Korea and you decided to fly back with your son. It was his home country, after all, his friends and family were there. You wanted to start all over again, a second time, wishing that you’d meet Hongjoong again, hoping that he’d forgive you. But who did you think you were? You destroyed him and his happiness, he wasn’t going to welcome you back with a wide smile and open arms. At some point, you wished that you hadn’t acted so selfishly, but unfortunately, you did.

You mourned for months and buried yourself into work, earning a lot of money but you weren’t happy. You took care of Jaehwa, as always, but you wished you had someone’s arms to cry into, to run into, to support you when you were at your worst. You always had your son’s wet kisses and happy smiles, but it was nothing compared to a loving husband. You always forced yourself to smile when your son was around, but when you put him to bed, your mask would drop, and you’d cry until you fall asleep. This toxic routine went on for months, feeling more helpless as each day passed by.

Then one day, a man appeared in your life. His name was Yunho and he was very caring. You had applied for a job in another company, on the other side of the city and he happened to work in this company. He was actually the one to guide you through the vast building, bringing you to the HR desk.

“Excuse me, I’m lost and late, could you please help me?” You said as you laid a hand on his upper arm to stop him from walking. “Sure, how can I help you?” he answered with a smile, red spreading to his cheeks as he took your face in. You looked tired and had a hint of sadness in your eyes, but you were still extremely beautiful to him. “I’m looking for the HR office,” you smiled as you looked at the file you prepared for your interview. “Come with me,” he paced at your rhythm as he noticed your heels, smiling at you as you waited for the elevator.

You thanked him a hundred times as he was about to leave for lunch and he smiled, slightly raising his fists to encourage you with a smile. He truly hoped that you’d get hired because you were quite easy to talk to and stunningly beautiful.

You happened to run into him when you were late for work, starting the conversation with him as he held the elevator doors open for you to get in.

“I’m so happy to see you got hired,” he said, and you beamed, playing with your blazer sleeve. “I’m relieved that I got in, thank you again for guiding me there,” he grinned and looked at the elevator button, opening his mouth again, but nothing came out. You tried to catch his look to make him keep going but he closed his mouth, swallowing thickly, wishing you a good day with an awkward smile on his face.

After a few weeks of getting used to your workspace, you happened to see him again and this time, he didn’t chicken out and said what he wanted to ask you the last time he saw you.

“Do- do you want to go to eat lunch together? Like… a date?” you were surprised but accepted his offer, only to have him releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding, along with a smile

The night of the date, you were anxious. Not because you were going on a date, but because you hadn’t found someone to look after your son for the night. You were frightened to tell to Yunho that you had a son and that you were divorced, but you had to. After all, in a relationship, trust and honesty were the keys to make it work, right? Right? When he rang at your door, you took a deep breath in and took the time to rearrange your hair before opening the door, your child between your legs, humming your floral dress. Yunho smiled at you but his eyes widened when he saw your son. You anticipated him to run away but he crouched down, petting your son’s head.

“Hi,” he whispered with a smile and looked up at you. “You didn’t tell me that you were a babysitter in your spare time. We can go out another time if you are already busy.” He spoke as he took your son’s hand in his, delicately shaking it. “I’m not babysitting him… It’s- it’s my son, Yunho,” you whispered as you clutched your son’s other hand.

His eyes widened and he almost lost his balance. You pursed your lips and looked away, ready to see him go. But to your great surprise, he stayed. He even smiled at your son.

“He’s yours?” he asked, still a bit dumbfounded. “Now that you say it, he really looks like you.” “I- thank you…” you said as you lifted your child in your arms, “but… do you still want to go on the date?” “We can. I know a good childcare centre, one of my sisters works there, we can put him there for the night if you want. Or we can stay here if you want to,” you had completely forgotten about this option and Jaehwa seemed to agree with the idea, so you got ready.

Yunho drove the three of you to this centre and you were a bit anxious to leave your son there, but he didn’t seem to mind. He was a social butterfly like his dad, so it wasn’t a problem for him to stay a few hours with other children. It’s not like he spent months at the day-care centre every day while you were working anyway. He was used to that. When you arrived there, your son immediately let go of your hand and ran towards other children and you gave Yunho a faint smile. It suddenly vanished when you heard his giggles and a way too familiar voice. A voice that dug out too many memories that you tried to forget.

You gulped when you saw your ex-husband, hugging your son, noticing his shocked look and tears in his eyes. You clenched your teeth and observed the scene in front of you, tears gathering in your eyes as well. Hongjoong hadn't changed and you took a deep breath when he locked eyes with you. He had switched work again, and of course, you had to meet him when you were with another man. He looked relieved to see you again, after all those months of silence, but his eyes darkened when he noticed Yunho standing next to you.

“Look, Mommy! Daddy’s here!” your son yelled as he hugged his dad's neck. “Daddy?” Yunho exclaimed, completely surprised by your son’s words. You inhaled, defeated by the turn of the events and you couldn’t wait for everything to stop. “Yes, “Daddy”.” You irritatingly said, thinking of a way to escape all of this, but you couldn’t.

The only way you could get out was telling the truth to everyone. And again, you knew that you were about to hurt people. Again. As if it was one of your passions.

“Y/N,” Hongjoong finally spoke and your stomach churned, forcing you to close your eyes to prevent the tears from falling, his voice and presence sending daggers to your heart. “I didn’t know you were back.” “I didn’t know either,” you said as you walked towards him, followed by Yunho. “I see that you moved on.” He said as he glared at Yunho, whose brows immediately furrowed. “I had to, okay?” you said on the verge of tears, Hongjoong sending your son to play with other children after kissing him on the cheek. “I couldn’t see myself running back into your arms, begging you to take me again when I’m the one who ruined and stopped everything. Questions of moral and respect.” “Yet I would’ve still welcomed you with opened arms.” His words made you burst into tears and Yunho passed his arm around your shoulders, eyeing your ex-husband, who seemed to swallow his feelings. “How do you expect me to move on if you say things like those?” You cried and Yunho didn’t say anything, everything clicking in his head as he whispered to walk out with him.

Sending one last look to your ex-husband, you walked backwards and hastily ran to the exit without looking back, tears running down your face.

Hongjoong was sad to see you run away from him again, but at least you were moving on and tried to be happy again, while he couldn’t. He was still mad at you from leaving him, but he was also annoyed with himself for letting you go so easily. He should’ve fought for you, for your marriage and son, to keep everything alive, but he didn’t. Two cowards that loved each other but can’t go back to the other. What a shame.

He still loved you after all those years and hoped that you’d come back to him, but it wasn’t for tonight. He was still hopeful that you’d drop this tall man and run back to his arms, as you thought that you couldn't do so. It was the only thing he was waiting for. The only positive point is that he gets to spend a few hours with his son, taking care of him while you are out with another man. He wished that he were out with you and your son, all three together as it was before. But sadly, it was only with his son that he gets to spend time. Maybe, with time, you’ll come back.

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canyouhearthelight · 4 years

Text

The Miys, Ch. 90

The more chapters I post, the weirder that number feels. I swear.

“Have a good night, Grandma Kim,” I smiled from the door and waved as she and Lyric made their way into the stream of foot traffic in the corridor. Conor had just come home from work, so I had the obligatory two people to keep any eye on me for the night. Turned out that my mandatory escorts were not only for travelling to and from anywhere - and locking the door to my quarters wasn’t considered enough, either, since “Too many people have permission to just walk in,” as Xiomara pointed out.

When I turned around, both men were already seated at the table, a small and tidy dinner of roast, boiled potatoes, and salad waiting. “No GK?” Conor frowned, pointing at a fourth place setting.

“She said she had to get to another appointment,” I explained. With a groan, he reached down. To my surprise, he picked a fifth place setting off the floor. “Wait, you set a plate for Lyric? You don’t even do that for Mac!”

Jokingly, he shook a finger at me. “That cat’s a damned menace,” he grumbled. “Besides, we all know Mac eats from whatever and whoever’s plate he wants. He doesn’t need his own.”

Maverick just smiled at his back as the taller man put the plates and silverware away. “Says the person who always saves an entire serving of everything for the ‘damned menace,’ as you put it.”

“He likes my plate better.” With a wink and playful grin, he sat down and started slicing the roast.

Smiling lightly, Maverick brushed his hair out of his face and turned to me. “Stuff better between you and Tyche?”

Stabbing a potato, I shrugged before wobbling my hand a bit. “Kind of? We’re still working through a game of Twenty Thousand Questions, but we aren’t mad at each other anymore. So there’s that.”

“You’ve been in a noticeably better mood, at least.”

I scowled as he set some salad on my plate. “I haven’t had five minutes to myself since the incident with Charly. That’s going to make anyone cranky.”

“You didn’t help when you put that bloke flat on his back, love,” Conor chided gently. “One slice or two?”

Eyeballing how thick he cut them, I thought for a second. “One, for right now? With gravy?”

“What heathen doesn’t put gravy on roast?” was the scoffed answer.

Maverick’s head snapped up, half a slice of meat hanging out of his mouth. “Ee guy ah even eh own eye ussoom gayey.”

“Babe, please cut the rest of that up before you choke…” I begged, looking away. The military had done horrible things to his table manners, but at least he kept them isolated to ‘private’ meals. “On the topic of Tyche, we fence twice a week while Arthur scowls at us or Coffee pretends to ignore us and read a book. I ask her questions, and she whallops me when I guess wrong.”

“And why is your sainted best friend scowling at you?” Conor stabbed half a potato and shoved it in his mouth, staring at my skeptically.

I stabbed my own potato before cutting it carefully in half. “He may prefer saber.”

“Ehrr oaf.”

“Maverick,” I sighed without looking over. “I am begging you…” A snort of laughter forced me to surrender and turn towards him. “You shit.”

He was sticking his tongue out at me, mouth clearly empty. After I stared long enough, he lost his composure and started laughing, squeezing my upper arm with one hand. “I’m sorry, Sophia. I’ll stop, I swear.” Briefly managing a serious face, he ran a hand down and then across his chest. “Cross my heart.”

“King’s X,” Conor corrected.

All I could do is roll my eyes. “It’s the same thing…”

“Still tense, huh?”

“A little,” I admitted softly. I usually would be laughing and joking with them - who could you be gross and ridiculous around, if not your loved ones? - but I just couldn’t right then. “I think being watched all the time is making me feel watched all the time. Like I always have to have my public face on.”

Conor hummed, rubbing the arm facing him. “Maybe we can think of something to let you have a bit of time to yourself.”

“We could have the sensors monitor you, have one of Miys specifically keeping a watch on that?”

I shook my head. “That’s literally how I met you, remember? Someone destroyed the navigation sensors, and hacked the monitoring ones in order to destroy the replacement parts. Xiomara will never agree.”

“Damn it,” Maverick swore softly. “We can at least leave the room?”

Dropping my fork, I threw my hands in the air. “And go where? It’s not like you can leave our quarters.”

“She’s right. And we can’t even go in the bedroom and leave her out here… If we aren’t in the same room with her, we have to be in one closer to the exit.” Conor pointed over his shoulder with a fork before using it to dig into his salad. “Meaning she can be in the bathroom or bedroom alone.”

“At which point I may as well be a prisoner.” My frustration was vented against my slice of roast, and I absolutely did not cut it more aggressively than strictly necessary.

With a wince, Maverick slowly lowered his hands from where they had been covering his ears. His eyes darted to the knife that was now laying beside my plate, clearly trying to figure out how to take it away from me. “More potatoes?”

Clearly discretion was the better part of valor in his case.

“I’m fine,” I mumbled, prodding the lumps of formerly-roast on my plate.

“We’re going to get through this, Sophie, I promise.” Conor stood, but rather than trying to approach me, he stepped into the kitchen. When he returned, he had a plate of soft rolls. Tearing one in half, he started scooping the massacred remains of my dinner onto it before handing it to me. “There. All better.”

I gave him a watery smile as he set it on my plate. “I’m sorry I’ve been such a grumpy bitch lately,” I whispered. Glancing up, I could see them exchanging puzzled looks. “Oh come on, don’t pretend I’ve been an angel. Just last week, you two left me and Tyche here, with strict orders to sort our shit out.”

“If you didn’t get grouchy when things are out of your control, you wouldn’t be Sophia,” Maverick pointed out generously. “Besides, it’s not like you threw anything.”

“Or broke shit.”

“I still owe you both an apology,” I argued. “Just because I’m out of my comfort zone, that doesn’t mean it’s okay for me to snap and snarl at you two.”

Conor snapped his fingers several times. “Dinner. At the Undine. You, your sister, Charly… Maybe don’t get drunk this time, but a night out, yeah? People who would be there anyway, just like we’re usually the ones with you at night. Whatcha say?”

I shook my head slowly. “I don’t think Xio is going to approve that. Both of us in one place, for starters. Plus somewhere that crowded? Security would be a nightmare.”

“What about camping? Charly keeps mentioning at work that she’s dying to go camping.”

This time, it was Maverick’s turn to be confused. “Where?” he gestured around us. “We’re on a space ship. Where can we go camping?”

“BioLab2,” came the answer. “It goes into night mode from mid Beta-shift to the start of Alpha. That’s fifteen hours of night time. We’d have to get special permission, since folks aren’t usually allowed in there at ‘night’, but given the circumstances, I think Grey could be convinced to try it out. See how the nocturnal species in the lab react to their schedule being interrupted.”

“You seriously want me to go camping?” I asked skeptically.

“Hey, I love to go camping!” He looked comically offended. Glancing at Maverick, he raised an eyebrow in challenge.

“Never been, but I can give it a shot,” was the mild reply. In the bottom of my field of vision, a hand snaked over and snagged the sort-of stuffed bun from my plate. I didn’t even stop him, just waited for the inevitable. Sure enough, less than a minute later, he started sputtering. “Oh, that is disgusting!”

Conor tsked at him, shaking his head. “Love, you saw me put her poor roast on the bap. You knew it had gravy on it.”

“But you put the mushrooms on the bread, too!?”

“I did it for the lady, who likes mushroom gravy.” Heaving a sigh, he stood up, went back into the kitchen, and returned with a small carafe of something. Prying apart another roll, he gently tucked a slice of roast inside, before pouring the contents of the carafe - plain, brown gravy, as it turned out - both beneath and on top of the meat. “You have to have something or it’s too dry,” he explained, handing it to Maverick, who surrendered mine back into my own custody.

I took a bite of mine, and gave a little hum of delight. It reminded me of being in school and stuffing mashed potatoes with gravy and thin sliced mystery meat into a yeast roll to make the meat edible, only much better. Gesturing to Maverick’s own sandwich emphatically, I waited.

Unlike his enthusiasm for stolen food, he stared his own bun down suspiciously before taking a very ginger bite. Chewing carefully for a moment, he furrowed his face in thought before finally making a similarly happy noise and taking a larger bite. Covering his mouth with one hand, he gave his verdict. “Dis iss guh!”

Conor and I both rolled our eyes, landing on each other’s face. “You’d think the boy never had chipped beef on toast. Or a French dip sammy,” Conor scoffed as he made his own.

It took everything I had not to dissolve into laughter as I watched my beautiful roast dinner be turned into schoolyard sandwiches. But sometimes, that’s what you need, I reminded myself as I took another bite. Kids have the right idea.

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#the miys #humans are weird #found family #original fiction #humans are space orcs #earth is space australia #humans are cool #science fiction #aliens #apocalypse #second chance

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erekiosuncreativeideas · 4 years

Text

The Part-Time Puppeteer - Chapter 01

Summary :

Based on @fedoraspooky‘s Puppet AU.

Lukas is a student in need of money. He manages to find a job in a famous television studio as a stagehand. However, his situation changes greatly when the directors give him one of the main roles of a new TV show for children. Lukas has to fit into this new and unknown world, meeting all the other actors, all while dealing with his student life. What could possibly go wrong?

Also available on AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/23828971/chapters/57259018

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New fanfiction on A Hat In Time ! I hope you're all well and safe in this very hard period.

I had started this fanfiction for a while and I figured that posting it might help to make me write more. I work a lot with motivation/encouragement, so posting it might be one of the best ways to motivate myself.Anyway, I hope you'll like this story! :D

Don't hesitate to leave me a comment/like/reblog if you do, it'll help me a lot!

Happy reading !

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Chapter 1 - “What the absolute fuck?”

Lukas Pryce had seen many strange things in his short life, especially as a college student: people doing incredibly stupid stuff during parties (not that he went to a lot of them), students watching porn in the lecture halls, wandering drunk students in the middle of the night… But this right there? This was way weirder than anything he had ever seen before.

“What the absolute fuck?” thought he young student, as he tried to take in the sight in front of him.

He was standing up in an entrance hall of a famous movie studio, the Dead Bird Movie Studio. To be honest, Lukas never really understood where the name came from and never really thought much about it until more recent events. All he used to know was that they made a lot of stuff, from movies to TV shows, and even musicals! It was strange to think that a single studio could manage such different genres and still doing a good job with them. The student never thought he would ever step in a place like this, but his life had recently taken a route very different than what he expected.

Several persons were running in front of him, most of them carrying fire extinguishers. A fire had apparently started in the middle of a shooting and smoke could be seen through the doors leading to the filming stage. No one was noticing him, as they were all preoccupied with the current situation, and Lukas almost thought about leaving. But he couldn’t, as much as he wanted to.

Being a college student, especially a law student, was hard. In a system where students were in debt and had to pay a lot of things, Lukas couldn’t afford to lose one of the only job opportunities he could get in his two years spent at the university. While he did have nice parents who helped him to fund his studies, he didn’t like the idea of depending too much on them, especially on studies which were quite expensive.

So, yeah, he needed the money too much to consider leaving.

Lukas tried to get closer to the people, hoping to stop someone long enough to know if he should wait and come back later. Well, it did seem like the most reasonable solution, yes, but he had lost too many job positions because of his hesitation. Maybe he would look like a complete idiot, but if it meant he would get this job, then, he didn’t care!

-“Hum, excuse me?” he asked, as he managed to grab a someone’s arm, stopping them from doing whatever people did in case of fire emergencies. It was a blond man in his forties, and he was very much angry from the sudden interruption.

-“What are you doing? Let go of me, there’s a fire in there!”

Lukas tried to get more of him, but the man pulled his arm from the student’s hand, who didn’t really know what to do with himself. It was a bad time to go to this job interview, after all.

“Maybe I should just leave and go back later?” he thought quickly, turning away from the reception desk. He could call the studio later to reschedule the interview. Sure, Lukas never liked phone calls in the first place, but hey, what can you do against a fire emergency? It was better to leave this place, call back later and have another chance next week. Or at least, he hoped so.

However, before he could push the exit door, two voices interrupted him. While most of his surroundings were loud and full of agitation, these voices were even louder, cutting short all of Lukas’s inner monologue. The young student stopped in his tracks and threw a glance behind him, more than curious about what was happening on the other side of the room.

Two figures entered the room, apparently arguing with each other in the most intense way. One was a tall and sturdy black man, while the other was an older and smaller blond man. The former was wearing a set of very excentric clothing, while the latter was wearing a black costume, as well as a black cap on his head, which was hiding his eyes underneath. Both made big gestures with their arms, as they bickered. Something about them felt really familiar to Lukas who, for a brief moment, didn’t understand why. It was only when he heard their voices through the general brouhaha that he remembered: they were the famous directors of the Dead Bird Movie studio!

-“Was it really necessary to have that many sparks in the last scene?!” asked the sturdy man -DJ Grooves-, pointing the smoke coming into the room with both hands.

-“Of course it was!” replied the older one, much louder, stomping his foot on the ground. This was the Conductor. It wasn’t his real name but the old director never accepted to tell his real name to the media. He was mostly known as “The Conductor” and all of his movies were signed this way. Well, so were DJ Grooves’s, but the latter’s real name usually appeared somewhere in the credits.

They had recently started to work together on several projects and, while those became extremely famous blockbusters, it was said the two directors had problems working together in the past. It had seemed to improve through the years, but Lukas remembered reading an article somewhere, dealing with the direction problem on their latest movie at the time. While they were both very competent, they also had very different ideas and visions about movie-making, which made the filming quite difficult sometimes.

The argument kept going despite the agitation around them. In fact, most of the people in the room were avoiding them, by distancing themselves as much as possible from the duo, passing from one side to the room to the others by doing a detour in order not to be noticed.

-“It was? Darling, everything caught fire! I know you like action, but this was way too much!”

-“Pfff, as if you knew the basics of action movies! I know what action scenes need! Mind your own part of the movie, the music!” he said, putting a strong and ironical emphasis on the last word, as if he was mocking it. Which, in retrospect, was probably the case.

-“Excuse me? Conductor, darling, we talked about this: music is as important as action! A movie without any good music is worthless, just as it is without good and measured action!”

The bickering continued for a while and Lukas couldn’t help but stare at the two directors. They didn’t seem to hate each other as much as they did in the past, at least from what he had seen on TV, but it was quite impressive nonetheless. They both had strong personalities and those didn’t mix well together.

Lukas didn’t know what to do. He instinctively opened his shoulder back to take the job poster out of it. It was about a stagehand position, which didn’t need a lot of experience. It demanded to know how to fix set materials and to know how to sew -which he did-, nothing hard, really. What matters was the pay at the end of the month, pay he very much needed for his studies.

He hesitated a moment: should he step in? Most of the people here seemed to avoid them as much as possible, maybe there was a reason for that? However, if he didn’t do anything, he would get back home without any more job than before. What if someone showed up not long after he left and got the job? He didn’t want to take the risk.

Lukas needed that money.

The student took a deep breath and walked towards the two bickering directors, feeling his heart sink in his chest. Not only was he approaching celebrities, but he was also going to interrupt them to ask for a job! In a way, this was an extremely bold move, which contrasted tremendously from his usual behaviour. In any other situation, he would have chosen to leave, not to bother them, try later… But he wanted this job and he was ready to step out of his comfort zone to get it!

He finally arrived next to the two men, who absolutely didn’t notice him in the least, continuing their previous argument about the (un)necessity of using such or such pyrotechnic. Lukas felt eyes land on him: some workers seemed to notice his intent of interrupting the two directors and silently shook their head in his direction, telling him to give up, that he would end up regretting doing it eventually.

But the student didn’t listen. Instead, he cleared his throat, first once, then twice, this time a bit louder. The two directors immediately stopped talking and turned in his direction, surprised by the sudden interruption.

-“Hum… Excuse me, I- I saw that you were looking for a stagehand and I‌ came for the interview,” he started, unsure. Lukas wasn’t afraid to approach people, usually. But this wasn’t a usual situation: he was facing two famous movie directors! And interrupting them in an argument during a fire emergency!

… Suddenly, the whole thing didn’t seem like a good idea anymore.

The two men were now staring at him, probably not knowing how to answer. Lukas felt very nervous, being stared at that way. He felt like they were examining him from top to bottom, as if he was just an object.

All of a sudden, the Conductor let out a huge sigh and, still very much angry, quickly grabbed one of the fire extinguishers from someone’s hand. He then pushed it violently in the student’s arms:

-“You know what, fine, you’re hired!” said the old director curtly, before turning away to leave like a sulking child: “Go put out the fires with the others!”

Lukas remained unmoving, too shocked to react right away. Next to him, DJ Grooves let out a tired sigh, maybe because he was used to that kind of things. When the Conductor noticed Lukas’s non-reaction, he stomped his foot once again and pointed to the room from which came the smoke :

-“Now!”

Lukas jumped at the harsh order and turned to the stage room as fast as he could, extremely confused by what had just happened. Did he just… Get the job? That easily? There had to be a catch somewhere!

But here he was, passing through the door, only to find something on fire in the middle of the stage, surrounded by several people trying to put the fire out. Without thinking much, the student ran to meet them, almost falling down because of the weight of the fire extinguishers. No one seemed to notice him as they were all focused on the danger in front of them.

Lukas then joined their effort, disabling the safety lock on the device before spraying the fire.

Surely, this was just an exception… The working conditions weren’t going to be any weirder, were they? Lukas felt doubt growing in him, as the flames became weaker and weaker as seconds passed.

What did he get himself into?

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End of the first chapter ! I hope you enjoyed it ! :D

Chapter two is still a WIP at the moment, but that might change in the near future! My other fanfiction, Reliving An Old Nightmare, is my current priority, but I might continue this one if I'm in need of change!

Thank you for reading !

Chapter 2 =>

#A Hat In Time #fanfiction #my art #The Part-Time Puppeteer #TPTP #snatcher #puppet au #conductor #dj grooves #ahit

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davidmann95 · 4 years

Text

All-Star Superman #2

A scant year to the day since part 1!

All evidence to the contrary I actually have always wanted to go back to this, especially since I keep getting asked if I’ll do so and it stirs my omnipresent sense of guilt over my lack of productivity, and also the last year has not resulted in a mass turnaround of people realizing it’s a for-real good book and not just comfort food so this remains necessary. This isn’t going to be quite as in-depth as the first go-around - both that as the introductory issue and that as the introductory recap had a lot of groundwork to lay - but still plenty to cover, as this issue sets up Lois and Superman’s arcs for the series, which is rooted (amazingly, especially right off the bat, given the book’s reputation of being about how amazing Superman is) in how badly Superman’s let his fears and shortsightedness poison the most important relationship in his life.

If the first issue is the big classic Superman material - Superman saving the day from the monster! Lois and Clark and the rest of the Daily Planet crew! Lex Luthor’s sinister schemes! A ticking clock to doom! - this scales all the way down to the uncomfortably, stiflingly intimate. Classic archetypal Superman stuff gives way to the most Silver Age issue: casual huge ideas, relationship drama, misunderstandings, last-minute reveals that recontextualize the entire issue, and baaaarely latent psychodrama bubbling up at the edges. In service of that the visual framing here is not unlike a stage play, a limited set of physically connected locales as a pair of figures bounce off one another. Quitely and Grant’s work is therefore comparatively subdued next to issue #1, keeping to traditional panel layouts and wide or medium shots with a background color palate of mostly blacks and whites and grays with a handful of other colors popping out...until Lois starts to lose her shit at the end of the issue and we get close-ups and full black and white panels and eerie glowing and dutch angles and that unsettling abstract image of her clenched teeth, as the story starts to squeeze us like Lois’s gut.

She’s right to be unsettled for that matter; she’s alone on Superman’s turf (the one issue where that’s the case other than #6, and that one’s about how Smallville stopped being his home), the weird antiseptic alien lair of the ultimate super-hobbyist, and all the baggage of their relationship is spilling out into the open as she has less and less reason to think the best of this odd man who’s been lying to her for years. Unlike the Silver Age tales this is referencing, she’s absolutely on the money with her complaints about him: he’s been dicking around with her forever and thinks it can all be okay now (His little “What?” on the second page when she bursts his bubble says it all), and he’s awkwardly overcompensating trying to fix it.

While the Fortress tour serves to peacefully acclimate us to how utterly bizarre Superman’s world really gets past the traditional rescues (the little cubic starfield we don’t know the meaning of yet, trophies are floating rather than physically suspended, the glowing flowers in Lois’s room, “The Phantom Zone map room’s pretty dull unless you can see radio-negative anti-waves”), Superman himself is...humblebragging isn’t the right way of putting it, but it feels like he’s working way, way harder than he ever will again in this book to be cool and impressive and assuring. He’s a dope in love, but he can tell something’s up and that super-brain of his isn’t putting the obvious pieces together, or noticing that this is just putting her off further and further until, like Bluebeard’s wife before her, she stumbles through the threshold of the door she was never meant to, even of course in the end he’s still Superman and there’s a perfectly good reason. Not a good enough reason, however, for her accusations at dinner to not hit home - his mind may be expanding, but he’s still way up his own ass here in a genuinely unpleasant way that’ll be elaborated on momentarily. For now he’s left stammering that she should trust him and it’s limp and phony, especially compared to his big entreaty for someone to trust him in #10 (which’ll be right after he finally comes clean with her); while Superman may not be considered a savior figure by his friends in here the way he often is in the mainline comics Lois seems to be the only one who doesn’t look up to him at least a little bit, but that clarity means she’ll call him out where no one else will.

Across the next two pages it’s all laid out, and we get to the roots of where things have gone wrong between the two of them. Lois is paranoid, certainly, the panels are literally squeezing in on her, but with Superman seeming so out-there and alien like never before she would have every right to be even sans alien chemicals. But notably there remains throughout a part of her assuming the best of him wondering if maybe this is just another big misunderstanding or that he’s simply been mutated by the solar overexposure. And in her heart of hearts, she admits that maybe she wants this to be another big damn trick with a completely sensible justification, because the alternative is that this is the new normal and she has to accept that he’s a flawed mortal man. It’s ugly and it’s mean - especially since she likes Clark - and it’s human as hell in the worst, most understandable way. It’s not going to be until said mortality is staring her in the face that she’ll be able to accept it.

Superman, meanwhile...someone could write a thesis on these panels as an articulation of the Superman/Clark dynamic. The Mirror of Truth is actually preexisting, centerpiece of a Jerry Siegel/Curt Swan joint in Action Comics #269 that was later adapted into the Superman newspaper strip where Lois uses it to figure out Superman is Clark Kent until he tricks her into believing the mirror can lie, after which he tosses it in a volcano; here it’s survived, and curiously shows him as Superman rather than Clark, when in the original tale it displayed Kent even though that was fully the era of Clark as a disguise. In here too it’s Superman who’s the ‘true’ identity of the two and which this time is reflected in the mirror, yet as in #1 it’s Clark who says what he’s truly feeling. In that light, the final panel of the abandoned glasses reads like nothing so much as Superman using the mirror as affirmation that the truth of the solemn, steadfast Superman identity gives him licence to deny the uncomfortable emotions his squishy human farmboy side is dredging up, ‘lying’ to him in a way he had to fake in the source material. Those emotions however knock right on the door of what he can’t grasp here: Clark’s so wrapped up in his own head trying to do the ‘right’ thing that he’s overlooking how his attempts at self-sacrificing selflessness are hurting the people around him. Throughout the series he’ll come to rely on others, first at his lowest points with Jimmy and the Bizarros, until at last he comes to invest true trust in Lois, and the Kandorians, and Leo Quintum, and even Lex.

For now though Lois is deep in a hole, a brief but memorable meeting with the Unknown Superman of 4500AD - everything Superman seems to be becoming to her even before she wonders if it’s literally him, cryptic and masked and with a big ‘ol question mark right on his chest instead of the familiar comforting logo, even his gutbuster of a question reinforcing his distance from a recognizable human experience - leading her all the way to reimagining her Silver Age ideal happy ending of marriage and family with Superman as a Cronenbergian horror. It’s still a Superman story, it turns out he had the very best reason possible for wanting to keep her in the dark, but right through to the end he remains just a little condescending in his reassurance, and his gift of essentially bringing her up to his ‘level’ isn’t going to solve the problem. While the next issue lets us see the two of them properly in love, it won’t be until the elephant in the room comes out that they can come to terms.

Additional notes

* God Quitely is so good. Look at the way the seatbelt curves in the first panel! Lois’s bemused little disbelieving smirk!

* Pages 2-3: Aurora Borealis?!

* Lois is the only character other than Superman who gets to have actual narration (in both cases as looks at their in-text writing), the only one whose viewpoint is thus privileged in the same way as his.

* The key is the realization of this series’ aesthetic in a nutshell: the old-school idea in a sleek, shiny, clever new way that doesn’t take away from the fantastical toyeticness of it all. For that matter, the key is the centerpiece of a later bit with Superman that could be fairly described as the long-term goal of the book book as Morrison’s hoped-for perennial: “One day some future man or woman will open that door, with that key. When they do, I want them to know how it felt to live at the dawn of the age of superheroes.”

* This is A. The first note of a larger DC universe existing offscreen, something that I’ll go into more when discussing #8, B. A brilliant, concise, fun little summation of his place in Superman’s world, and C. Absolutely hilarious given Morrison suggested in his exit interview that this could be seen as much later on in the same universe as All-Star Batman & Robin The Boy Wonder, which entirely rewrites the tone of that moment.

* Already discussed the key but the muscles in Superman’s hand tensing a bit at picking it up is another great detail.

* The glimpse of the Fortress here is excellent: the statues of his friends and enemies instead of pictures because he does things bigger with the yellow electric something crackling at the end of it, the off-model but curious-looking robot appearing to glance at Kandor (are it and the bigger robot with the seats on top of it trophies, or Superman Robots with different designs tasked for specific purposes?), the classic Bad Penny Good For One Crime, the Legion time bubble that establishes his time-traveling credentials for later, the Titanic where he and Lois will dine when their relationship hits a proverbial iceberg, and most strikingly the space shuttle Columbia, his apparent rescue of which I have to imagine is a reference to Astro City’s Superman analogue Samaritan debuting by averting the Challenger disaster.

* It’s next issue that has my actual favorite Superman/Lois moment of all time, but “When we’re married fifteen years, when I’m sagging and he looks just the same, will he still meet me and say things like...” “These are for you. I picked them on Alpha Centauri 4.” is right up there.

* The technological aesthetic of the Fortress is so different than P.R.O.J.E.C.T., sleek and solid and cleanly-lit and antiseptic, beautiful and advanced but a little cold in its own way. As stuffed with wonder as this place may be, there’s something hauntingly empty about it, suiting both the tone of the issue and as a physical embodiment of Superman’s emotional state. The one part that goes against it is the forbidden room, it even has beakers and test tubes to sell the mad scientist vibe...though if you were to stretch it, it much more close resembles the human technology seen at P.R.O.J.E.C.T., and this is meant as a gift for one.

* The cosmic anvil made it along with the key into the CWverse, Lois used it in Elseworlds! I may not be expecting All-Star quality from the upcoming Superman and Lois, but it’s good to know the powers that be are using it as a reference point (beyond how it inspired Supergirl’s take on Cat Grant, a connection I discussed in a post that seems to have vanished into thin air). The whole page is perfect, Superman at his most joyfully benign and beautiful and godlike; it’s the one bit where Lois’s skepticism cracks a touch watching him feed his adorable little Lovecraftian abomination from beyond the stars.

* While he never appears physically aside from a statue Brainiac hovers over this series from beginning to end in name and deed, the ominous ultimate enemy of Superman’s past, the great trial overcome even as the scars forever remain. Morrison mentioned in the exit interview that he didn’t appear in here because he and Quitely already used him as the villain of JLA: Earth 2, but that if he had it would have borrowed Superman: The Animated Series’ take on him as a Kryptonian AI gone rogue. Personally I like his place in here as-is, a little totem parallel to the Justice League references indicating the breadth of Superman’s history between putting on the cape and Luthor’s final scheme.

* A pair of minor notes: Lois points at Superman with the pointy fork when asking him pointed questions, and while it’s not immediately clear on first read she does in fact ask the Unknown Superman exactly 3 questions (“Kal Kent?” “Will Superman and I ever marry and have children?” “What do you mean?”) before he replies with his own, as promised.

* “Oww.” and “Tickles.” literally could not be more perfect Superman moments.

* Worth taking a moment to marvel at just how many future plot elements are seeded here. There’s the obvious bit of Superman thinking about having a partner setting up the next issue, but we also for issue #6 have our first look at Kal Kent and Lois wondering “What if (the Unknown Superman) was really (Superman)?” when Clark will indeed pose as him, for #10 we get our first look at Qwewq, and for #11 not only is the Sun-Eater introduced but so is Robot 7′s malfunction as a result of Luthor’s tampering.

* The structure of the series according to Morrison is a solar cycle, beginning and ending at midday with nightfall in the center. If last issue was the sun at its brightest we begin the descent here, with Superman remaining larger-than-life and ultimately trustworthy but with his classic persona and habits held to an additional, unflattering degree of scrutiny.

#All Star Superman #Superman #Lois Lane #Grant Morrison #Frank Quitely #Jamie Grant #Phil Balsman #Art #Silver Age #Clark Kent #Batman #All Star Batman & Robin the Boy Wonder #Fortress of Solitude #Astro City #DCTV #Brainiac #Opinion #Analysis

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spine-buster · 5 years

Text

Alone, Together | Chapter 3 | Morgan Rielly

A/N: Thank you for the positive feedback, likes, reblogs, comments, and tags so far! This chapter is kinda sorta filler (3000 words worth...) but, you know...whatevs.

Bee hoped what she was wearing was okay. She almost wanted to cancel when Morgan told her to meet him at the corner of Spadina and King Street West, where they would walk to the place together. King West was swanky. There were a lot of trendy shops and restaurants, and a steady flow of cool bars kept popping up all the time. It was beyond Bee’s comfort zone. She loved walking down there, and she loved the old architecture and the facades of the buildings…but to actually go in to one of them? No. Those types of places weren’t meant for her.

But she didn’t cancel. She didn’t cancel because Morgan only told her about an hour before where to meet him, and it would have been exceptionally rude. She didn’t cancel because, yet again, Angie – still in Kingston – threatened to come back to Toronto and force her to go.

She didn’t cancel because she really wanted to see Morgan.

As she approached the intersection, Bee could see Morgan leaning against the side of a building, looking down at his phone. She had walked from her place all the way down Spadina, and she thanked God there was a cool breeze out or else she probably would have been a sweating mess. As if on cue, he looked up from his phone to see her walking, and gave her a little wave, pushing himself off the wall and shoving his phone into his pocket.

He pulled her in for a quick hug when she was close enough, his hands lingering a bit on her hips. “You look great,” he looked her in the eye as she said it.

She knew her pants were tugging on her hips. And she knew her top was a bit too big and her shoes were old and her bag had seen better days but apparently that didn’t matter. She smiled at the compliment. He was wearing a pair of grey slacks, a short-sleeve button down, and his ever-present baseball cap. The sight of his biceps made her knees weak. “Ready to go? Where’s the restaurant?” she asked.

“Have you ever been to Cibo?”

She gulped. Cibo was one of the best wine bars in the city. “Nope.”

His hand slipped quickly from her hip to hold her hand, and she could have sworn her heart fluttered at the contact. God, he had to know what he was doing. “Then let’s go. You’re gonna love it.”

They arrived at the restaurant still hand in hand. As it was a Friday evening, it was packed with people. There were diners everywhere, and there was a group of people waiting inside as well as a line up outside the doors. It was busy. As Bee slowed down to entire the end of the line, Morgan tugged her inside. She looked around to make sure nobody was giving them a dirty look. ‘We aren’t cutting’ she wanted to tell everyone. ‘I have no idea what he’s doing, but we’re not cutting!’

“It’s currently a 45 minute wait for a table,” the beautiful blonde hostess said to Morgan and Bee as they approached her – no hello, no formalities, just the time. “We can write down your name if you’d like.”

“That won’t be necessary. We have reservations,” Morgan said. “Und --”

“Cibo doesn’t take reservations on Friday nights,” she interrupted.

Morgan gave her a look for being rude. “Well someone here took my booking. It’s under the name Morgan.”

“Take a seat,” she nodded towards the benches where some people were waiting.

“But we have --”

“Morgan, it’s okay,” Bee felt the need to intervene. She shook his hand, which was still holding on to hers, to get his attention. “It’s okay. We can wait for a bit, and if it’s too long we can just find somewhere else.”

After twenty minutes of waiting, Morgan was becoming increasingly impatient. He probably would have approached the hostess again, but Bee kept telling him not to say anything, that it’s okay, that they’d eventually get a table. He wasn’t so sure. He needed this night to go well, and right now, it was a disaster. When she went to the washroom, he finally took his chance.

He approached the hostess once more, trying to remain calm. “Excuse me…we have reservations. We shouldn’t be waiting this long for a table.”

“It’s Friday night, sir. Cibo gets busy. And like I said, we don’t take reservations on Fridays.”

He took a quick look around to make sure Bee wasn’t coming back from the washroom. He absolutely hated doing this, but he knew he needed to in order to salvage the night. “Listen, Ben usually works Friday nights, right? Tell him Morgan Rielly is here.”

He could see the girl roll her eyes. “Morgan O’Reilly?”

“No no, just Rielly. Mor-gan Rie-lly,” he said slower.

He watched as she picked up the receiver, pressed a button, and waited for someone to answer on the other end. She barely batted an eyelash when she finally said, “Hey Ben – I’m supposed to tell you Morgan Rielly has been here for twenty minutes.” Her tone was very sarcastic and dry. Something was clearly said because she straightened up her back and hung up the phone. “He’s on his way out,” she said quickly.

“Great, thank you.”

As if on cue, he watched as Bee exited the washroom and Ben – the manager that usually handled the boys whenever they wanted to discreetly come in – whip around the bend and start walking towards the front reception. When Bee noticed Morgan still at the front, she pursed her lips slightly. “Still no table?”

“It’s coming,” Morgan nodded his head towards Ben, making Bee turn around.

“Mo! How the fuck are you?” Ben’s voice bellowed over the mass of people congregated in the restaurant. He and Morgan shook hands and bumped chests before he continued. “You’re back in town early! You got Matts with you?”

“No no. It’s Briony’s first time at Cibo,” Morgan said, placing his hand on the small of her back.

“Let me bring you to your usual right away,” Ben said. “Apologies about the wait.”

Morgan’s hand slipped to hold Bee’s as they made their way through the restaurant until Ben brought them to a booth at near the back corner. They sat down across from each other and were promptly handed the food and wine menus before Ben told them their server would be there shortly. He patted Mo on the back before leaving. Bee wondered if he came here a lot.

“Do you know what any of this means?” Bee mused as she looked through the wine menu. She wasn’t a complete idiot – she obviously knew there were different types of wines, and they came from different regions around the world, but she could never taste the difference between a cabernet sauvignon, a merlot, a chardonnay, or anything else that was put in front of her. People who did kind of freaked her out, only because it meant they had so much time on their hands that they could actually think about this sort of stuff. Ah yes, I can smell the oak. The taste of the cranberry is very pert. Like, no you can’t. All wine tasted the same to her. It was all good.

“Yeah, of course,” Morgan said, giving her a weird look. “I wouldn’t bring you here if I didn’t.”

“So you can order for me, then?”

“Do you trust me?” he smirked.

It was a loaded question, sure, and there was a definite double entendre in the question and the way that he asked it (at least Bee thought so). She knew everything was still new, and fresh, and she knew that it had only been a small amount of time since meeting him, but Morgan had never given her any reason not to trust him. Was it perhaps a bit foolish on her part to trust him? Maybe. But right now, she did. And she didn’t feel queasy about it.

Wait – they were talking about wine, right?

“I trust you,” she said, smiling back at him. “I know nothing about wine.”

“You wanna get something to munch on?”

Bee hesitated. She was already going to be forking out what looked like $15 for the cheapest, smallest amount of wine. She never factored in that there was going to be food in this. Morgan only said drinks. “It’s okay,” she shook her head.

“Are you sure?”

She sighed. “I um…I don’t mean to sound cheap but I can’t afford to eat out right now, so I’m gonna have to pass. You can get something though. I don’t mind.”

“Wait, what do you mean you can’t you afford it right now?”

She cringed. “Because I’m a starving Master’s student, Morgan.”

“Briony.”

She couldn’t meet his eye, especially after her name rolled off his lips like that. How could she? Here was a guy who was taking her out on a date to an expensive wine bar and here she was, getting by on the littlest amounts. “Listen, I’m basically living off of multiple scholarships right now. I don’t exactly have the funds to eat out at fancy places like this,” she explained.

Morgan looked at her as if she had three heads. “Do you honestly think I would bring you to a place like this, on a date, knowing you’re a university student that’s been supporting yourself for years, and not pick up the tab?”

Bee felt tears lining her eyes for some reason. “It’s not…it’s not about that,” she said, shaking her head, trying her hardest not to let her voice crack. “It’s…”

“Briony, come on. Why are you so nervous?”

He just had to use her full name again. Had to. “I’m not used to this.”

“You --”

“I hardly ever go out. Because I can’t afford it. And when I do go out, it’s definitely not to places like this. We’re talking five dollar pitchers at the Green Room, not bottles of wine from Italy or Napa Valley.”

“Then --”

“And for that matter, I like to cook. It’s like…I don’t know, my hobby. I try to prep and make everything at home because it’s cheaper. That way I’m not tempted to spend my money on food. I know not a lot of people do that anymore but it’s how I survived growing up so I’m just used to it.”

“Then ignore everything else. Ignore everything around you. It’s just me.” There was a moment of silence as Bee considered the words, and Morgan took the opportunity to reach across the table and grab her hand, clasping it tenderly. “It’s just me, Briony.”

She nodded her head. She knew that. And he made it so simple. There didn’t have to be all the bells and whistles. She could ignore it. For now, it was just Bee and Morgan. “Do you mind letting me know about the wine a bit, then?”

He obliged readily. For someone who worked in the sports industry, he sure knew a lot about wine, and he definitely knew what he liked. The regions in Italy, the regions in France, his preferences which tended towards wines from Napa Valley – Bee clearly needed to re-evaluate what type of people liked wine and how much time Morgan had readily available to him. She absorbed the information as much as possible, but she knew she would forget most of it after they left.

Soon enough, a professionally dressed waitress approached their table to take their order. “What would you two like?”

“We’re gonna get the cabernet sauvignon…Pine Ridge from Napa Valley,” Morgan told the waitress. Bee quickly scanned the menu to see the bottle was a whopping $120. “And we’ll get the carpaccio, the bruschetta, the fromaggi platter, and some bread please.” Bee’s eyes scanned the menu again, quickly adding up the prices of the platters. She gulped. “Thank you.”

All they did was talk. They talked and talked and talked, and when the wine came out, and Bee took her first sip, it was good, and so she drank and they talked some more, and when the food came out, she ate some cheeses, and it was really good, and so she ate and they talked some more, and when the carpaccio and the bread came she paired all three together and it was heavenly, and so she enjoyed the food and wine and they talked even more. Neither of them could stop talking. Morgan revealed more about himself – how he grew up in West Vancouver, how he had an older brother, how his dad owned a lumber company and his mom owned a medical research company. How happy his childhood was. How he’d get up early to play hockey with his dad. How he played at the country club (yes…a damn country club) growing up. Bee didn’t think she’d ever met someone who was actually a member of a country club. She couldn’t help but wonder what that was like.

By the end of the night Bee was sure she had half a bottle of wine flowing through her veins. She was by no means drunk, but she was definitely warm and fuzzy. Definitely happy. So when Morgan paid the bill and his hands wandered to her hips and the small of her back again as they walked out of the restaurant, she didn’t mind. Actually, she wanted them to stay there. And when he suggested he walk her home – the whole 45-minute walk home back up to the Annex, she could only nod her head and slip her hand into his as they walked up Spadina.

He mentioned how he was going back to Vancouver for two weeks. It was to see his parents, he said. He hadn’t seen them in a while. And his brother, of course. And his beautiful golden lab, Maggie, his girl, that took up a majority of the camera roll on his phone. Bee never had any pets growing up – they obviously couldn’t afford it. But Bee promised herself that the second she could have enough disposable income she would get a pet. Adopt a cat from the Humane Society or something.

As they finally hit Bloor Street, Bee began to get nervous. She started asking him if he’d ever been walking in the Annex (he had not) and if he’d ever want to (he did). She noticed he slowed down his walking, and truth be told, she did too. But the realization only made her more nervous. And when she got nervous, she didn’t shut up. It was a curse. Just like her rambling about books, she was now rambling about the Annex. She honestly couldn’t stop.

“We’re coming up on mine now,” she said, nodding her head towards the house where her apartment was.

It was a massive house – one of the traditional Annex mansions that lined the streets and that people in Toronto paid millions upon millions for – but it looked older than some of the others in the neighbourhood that had been lovingly restored. It wasn’t dilapidated by any means, but Morgan could tell that not a lot of care had gone in to maintaining the place – a shame, really, since these houses were relics of a bygone era. They didn’t build houses like this anymore.

Morgan tried to imagine Bee living here. He tried to imagine her coming home from classes everyday, or her leaving with reusable grocery bags to do her weekly shop. He tried to imagine her apartment. Did she have a desk against the big bay window? Was she on the main or second floor? Was there still an original, working fireplace? Did she use it? But the more he tried to think, the more his thoughts were drowned out by her rambling voice. What was she talking about? At this point, he had no clue, but she was being so cute and he knew she did this all the time when she got nervous and, well, he was nervous too, because all he had wanted to do when he saw her at the beginning of their date was kiss her.

She walked him through the gate and on to the front porch, but she wouldn’t quiet down. “There’s, like, five apartments in here,” she said, looking up at the house. “On the main floor there’s mine and the one in the back – it’s the same on the second floor obviously – and then there’s a small apartment on the third floor too. The basement just has some storage rooms – laundry too, obviously – and, like, the furnace room…nothing special,” she babbled.

He leaned in, needing her to stay silent for just a moment so he could collect his thoughts. “Briony?” he mumbled.

“Yeah?”

“Can I kiss you now?”

“Oh!” She loved that he asked permission, but she was stupid. She was so, so stupid. “Of course.”

Morgan kissed Bee the way she had always wanted to be kissed: soft at first, with a gentleness that could deceive you, but with a streak desire that exuded like a flame. As she was a willing participant and readily reciprocating, he continued to kiss her, his hands wandering to her waist and down her hips, settling on the small of her back before pulling her body closer to his.

It turned into a full-blown make-out session before Bee had to stop for air. Morgan’s eyes remained closed as she tried to catch her breath.

It was late. He had a plane to catch tomorrow morning to go home.

“Have fun in Vancouver,” she whispered, moving to unlock the front door.

Morgan’s eyes shot open. “What?”

“Goodnight,” she smiled.

“Nonononono,” he pulled her back against him, giving her another kiss. She reciprocated again, but pulled away quicker than Morgan liked.

“You have an early flight tomorrow.”

“I don’t care.”

“Goodnight,” she smiled, pushing the door in.

“Briony.”

“Goodnight.”

“Briony!”

As she shut the door, he chuckled to himself. This was going to be a long trip back to Vancouver.

#morgan rielly #morgan rielly imagine #morgan rielly fic #toronto maple leafs imagine #toronto maple leafs fic #toronto maple leafs #alone together series

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r-ahh-mi · 5 years

Text

He // Chapter 3

Prompt II Chapter 1 II Chapter 2

Pairing: Rami Malek x OC (Beth)

Warnings: Mentions of death & swearing.

Word Count: 1.7k

Tag: @frami-mercury-malek @hazeleyedbeth @sassystrawberryk @amcquivey @cleopatra-knowles @lovelymalekk @mezzomercury @sherlollydramoine @perfect-rami @rami-malek-trash @xmxisxforxmaybe @malek-lover @trhum07

This pastry was so dry, so god damn dry. Not even a lousy wild bird on the streets of New York would want a thing such as this disgusting excuse for a $5 croissant. Now, this feeling could be one hundred percent due to the news i’d just received not even ten minutes ago -- no, it absolutely was. Nothing felt good right now. Not even the fact that I would be seeing a boy that i’d missed terribly through out our time apart was making me a mixture of happy and anxious..all I felt was numbness and anger.

I was angry because they didn’t deserve this. This wonderful family that had welcomed a stranger, such as me, into their home and hearts, simply because their son was fond of me, was not meant for this sort of unwanted pain. This family was nothing but a treasure and loving environment and it made me so terribly frustrated with the god in the sky (should he even exist) because, why? Why did this need to happen? Why was this necessary?

I couldn’t imagine the pain this family was in, but I was soon about to find out. Only a few short minutes and Sami would hopefully be picking me up, at least that’s what he told me just after he profusely apologized on Rami’s behalf for his absence at the coffee shop that i’d now spent nearly three hours in.

I couldn’t be mad at him and honestly I wasn’t. Not now, especially since I knew the validity in why Rami hadn’t shown up, even more so, I now knew why he had called me in the first place. I was quite intrigued as to why I was his go to..or maybe I wasn’t? Maybe I was not the first on his list of people who could comfort him in his time of need. Possibly, just possibly, I was the first one to answer him; it was late into the evening when he rang me, nearly 2 am my way and 12 am his.

He must’ve just settled for me, much like how he settled for our relationship once he started to realize there was so much good and someone much better out there for him. He just needed that push and that glimpse of limelight to show him he didn’t need me..of course that hurt to tell myself such a thing as this, but it also made me feel good. Good because he finally figured out that I wasn’t good enough for him, something i’d been telling myself and him over the course of our relationship. I’m happy for Rami, I truly am. It makes me incredibly elated to know that he is now no longer wasting on his time on a relationship that he merely settled for and now he was free to proceed and find that one special someone that would make me feel much more than settled.

Sure, I wanted to me his “much more than settled”, but I wasn’t. He made that clear, or rather his assistant did, and there was nothing I could to to change that, no matter how much I wanted to, no mater how much I tried to find the fault in myself and attempt to change who I was, but who I was wasn’t good enough for him and that’s okay. We all aren’t meant for each other or else the world would be a giant orgy and love fest, which doesn’t sound too awful, but that just wasn’t realistic. After all, we couldn’t all be a perfect fit for one another or else life would be much too boring (or much too happy and diluted of violence and hatred, but anyways...).

A loud jingle drifted in as the door of the coffee shop opened. Much as I had done for the past three hours, I enthusiastically looked up to the door, hoping to find a familiar face. I wasn’t disappointed, except, it wasn’t exactly the Malek I was expecting, but I was still pleasantly surprised and almost grateful that it was Sami and not his brother. I wasn’t in the mood for whatever tension would be held between us, I merely just wanted to comfort him and his family, not stir up any harsh feelings or words.

Sami spotted me right way as his eyes shifted quickly around the perimeter of the coffee shop. Once we held eye contact, he briskly walked over to me. The bags under his eyes were atrocious and the fact that he was wearing sweatpants instead of the his usual nicely put together outfit was even more troublesome, which made me even more anxious to know what Rami looked like. I’m sure there eyes matched the sadness and darkness and i’m sure neither of them were putting much effort into their appearances, which I didn’t expect nor want them to. They each deserved to cope in whichever way seemed familiar and the slightest bit more comforting to them.

“Beth.”

“Sami.” We both embraced each other in a friendly hug, followed by forced smiles.

“You don’t look so good.”

“Gee, thanks”, Sami lightly laughed as a small, but apparent smile poked through his previously gloomy facial features.

I let my hand travel up to his shoulder, giving it a squeeze as his face returned to it’s sad state.

“Ready to get going? Again, sorry you had to wait so long, Rami just wasn’t up to it; he hasn’t been up to much of anything lately.”

Knowingly, I shook my head with a slight smile and Sami understood that I wasn’t in need of another profuse apology on Rami’s behalf. No, at this point I just wanted to see him and, as much as I held such a strong sense of hatred for him in my heart, I still held a fuck ton of love and I wanted nothing more than to wrap my arms around him right now and give him the slightest bit of feeling that things were going to be okay; not now and maybe not next week, but eventually, he would be okay and not feel as though a dark cloud were looming around him at all times.

We both walked slowly towards the glass exit door. Nothing but silence and the patters of our feet along the marble floors were filling up our ears; I was much too nervous to bring up or even ask about Rami, even more so, I didn’t want to say anything that would upset Sami more so than he clearly already was. However, Sami was still a gentleman and held open the car door for me as he waited for me to catch up to his walking pace. I muttered a thank you and slid into the back of the comfy, yet nice vehicle. This feeling of comfort and happiness, at engaging with another human I hadn’t seen in a while, didn’t last too terribly long i’m afraid.

A dark head of hair came into my vision and I completely zoned in on the familiar back of the head that sat directly in front of me in the passenger side of the car. As silly as it sounds, I knew every piece of Rami, including the back of his head and I knew immediately that it was him. The breathing in my chest began to quicken at such a quick, rate, i’m sure Rami could hear the Thump! Thump! all the way from the back seat. As if my palm could somehow muffle the sound, I placed my hand over my heart, clutching it as if it was the last thing that was holding me close to reality.

I sat there just like that up until I heard Sami’s door open and shut loudly -- his eyes flickering from his brother sitting by his side and the view he had of me in his rear view mirror. Assuming he was scoping the both of us out and searching for our reactions. Would’ve been nice had I gotten some sort of warning that I would be seeing Rami much sooner than I had thought, but I wasn’t going to complain, especially not in a time of grieving such as this.

Instead, I resorted to sitting there, sweaty palms clasped together, eyes boring into the back of my past lovers tuft of hair, and an anxious knee constantly tapping up and down as I attempted to still get my heart to beat in a non erratic fashion. I hadn’t had luck for the past fifteen minutes we’d been in the car, but one could only hope a heart would give its keeper a break.

“Beth.”

I fixated my eyes on the diagonal view I had of Sami as he watched me with worried eyes from the rear view mirror with his mouth fixed into a straight frown. “Your knee shaking is moving the entire car.”

I glanced around the vehicle, just now noticing that the car was slightly jerking backwards and forwards as it sat idly at a red light. “Sorry.”

Quickly, I stilled my legs as my eyes briefly moved to Rami’s form just to see if he so much as flinched at the mention of my name or the presence of my voice. Surely I know I would have made some sort of physical movement were I to hear his voice in person again, but I also wasn’t mourning the loss of a parent.

I couldn’t even begin to fathom what he and his family were feeling and going through. Although I hadn’t had a good relationship with either of my parents, losing a parent will always mean something, whether you like it or not and since the Malek family was severely close, I couldn’t imagine the pain and absolute numbness they were just beginning to feel.

The car switched from moving at an even pace to turning a sharp corner as Sami pulled the vehicle into the familiar garage. My heart suddenly began to beat much faster - I would have to see his face now, there was nothing left to hide that fact and I was extremely terrified to find out how I would react to seeing him in the physical flesh.

#rami malek #ramimalek #rami malek fic #rami malek fan fic #rami malek fan fiction #rami malek hc #rami malek imagine #borhap #the pacific #mr robot

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theheartofpenelope · 5 years

Text

Simple Things : Chapter twelve

Excerpt - “I demand an appeal,” he muttered as he turned a corner. “You what?!” “Well, isn’t that what they do in your job?” Charlotte snapped her head back. Oh really? Trapped in a car. In traffic. No way for an escape. And he wants to plead his case. Fucking perfect. Tag list: @winterisakiller, @devikafernando, @scorpionchild81, @messy-insomniac-bookgirl, @smutsausage, @hiddlesbitch1 @noplacelikehome77 @wolfsmom1 @meh1217 @dina-bln @lilaeye39 @tinchentitri @fairlightswiftly @nonsensicalobsessions @wolfsmom1 @stmeiou @ink-and-starlight @givemecocoaa @profkmoriarty13 @nikkalia @massivelemon @lotus-eyedindiangoddess @argo-shila @emoietmoi @redfoxwritesstuff @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @raining-litter @theoneanna @coppercorn-and-cauldron @turniptitaness @shadyskit @memoriesat30 @antyc67 @just-the-hiddles @sheris532 @marggot4 Author’s Notes/Warnings: tags will follow later on Anyway thank you in advance for feedback - would love to know what you think…Also on AO3 through this link Masterlist available through here Bonus: click here for the pinterest moodboard (always updated)

Chapter twelve Wednessday - A chance encounter in London

1. See

Charlotte politely followed the HR consultant as he escorted her into the sleek elevator. He was a middle-aged man who oozed self-confidence, he knew very well what he wanted and what he was looking for. He’d been quite rigid and resolute all throughout the meeting.

She had been a little surprised an HR manager was attending said lengthy meeting, but then again this wàs the Royal London Hospital and this might be a very strict protocol they had to live up to. Breaking it was no doubt sacrilegious in these parts of the country.

The executive directors of the Royal London Hospital had very clearly outlined their ‘vision’ for the hospital to Charlotte, requesting her take on things and requesting a well-documented legal counsel. Truth-be-told Charlotte had expected she was called in for this kind of professional advice. However she was not expecting that her response would be met the way it was…

As she politely but determinedly rejected some of their desiderata, some glances were exchanged on the other side of the table, a few nods and gestures went back and forth which Charlotte found utterly distracting. Where was their protocol now, she mused.

But all became clear when the meeting somehow, very openly, turned into a job-offer towards her. A very generous offer was instantly extended to her; and a temporary assignment to work out a new policy on end-of-life decisions in the Royal London Hospital. The fucking Royal Hospital, her mind has yelled out, the state-of-the-art hospital, globally recognized as a leader in pre-hospital and trauma care. Home to London's Air Ambulance and one of the capital's leading trauma and emergency care centres and hyper-acute stroke centres. And they wanted her…

Charlotte would be allowed to compile a multidisciplinary corps and an assistant would be appointed to her. The extent of the offer dizzied her, yet thrilled her at the same time. It was a dream come true. Well, more than that really…

Things were moving fast for her now. At least that’s how it felt for her. She started with only a handful seminars, but was now well-booked for the rest of the summer, with the occasional interview here and there. And now there was this offer on the table she could not quite wrap her mind around yet.

As she stepped into the elevator the HR manager kindly exchanged some more small talk with her. He seemed like an amiable man. With a smile he tapped the elevator buttons and started their descent down to the lobby.

No, never in her wildest dreams had Charlotte expected her road to lead her where it had so far. And this at only 36 years of age. This was wild. This went beyond her imagination. And Charlotte half expected to be woken up by the shrill tone of her alarm clock. She discreetly pinched her nails into her arm - just in case - but this was no dream apparently. The shrill alarm clock didn't sound, but the elevator did chyme and a monotone female voice announced the occupants they had reached the fourth floor, then the second floor and so on.

People trickled in and out the elevator and before she was good and well aware Charlotte had reached the ground floor. She smiled in agreement with the HR consultant as he thanked her for her time, which she countered with a thank you for having me. Ping-pong, as you go...

"And we'll be looking forward to hearing your decision," the HR consultant concluded their conversation, "and maybe I shouldn't say this, but we àre passionately hoping you'll be willing to work with us."

In her head Charlotte positively screamed fucking Royal London!, but in reality she smiled her best diplomatic smile. And while she shook his hand - firmly -, she politely answered she was absolutely honoured and would think the offer through.

Upon exiting the elevator on a pure adrenaline high, Charlotte inattentively bumped against a hurried nearby stranger who jogged out of an opposing elevator. Shaking the momentary lapse of concentration out of her head, she turned to the other party with a slightly surprised frown which swiftly morphed into a recognition, and then an awkward yet lukewarm smile.

"Charlotte?"

"Tom?"

2. See closer

3 days after Fringe. 3 nights after that night. 3 days and 3 nights without a single word. In either direction.

Charlotte’s heart thudded loudly and nervously in her chest. She was however oblivious whether this nervous spell was a good or a bad thing. Should she crawl under a rock and make herself scarce after exchanging the necessary small talk or should she act unaffected, like he was? Or should she take a breath, straighten her shoulders and ask for an answer in the hopes it could heal that awful gnawing feeling the aftermath of Edinburgh had left her with...

As she came round to a mute double (or was it triple?) take, she noted Tom seemed just as much out of his comfort zone as she was. And in a weird way it thrilled her. Karma. Suits him well. She could see him running his tongue over his lips before gently biting them shut. His hands fidgeted with the paperwork he held in his hand while he repeatedly re-adjusting his glasses.

Charlotte’s heartbeat however dropped some when she detected the variety of papers Tom had now safely tucked under his arm. So much papers after a doctor’s appointment, and that did not look good. At all. He didn’t look hurt. Was he sick? He seemed nervous, sweaty. He was silent, not at all like the Tom she’d come to know….

Her gaze got caught on the documents, but this point she couldn’t care less about that.

“Are - Are you alright?” Charlotte immediately questioned; she was worried. No point in denying this.

Her wall of defence had slipped and Tom could hear the concern in her voice inkling through. A small little frown came across her features. Only instantly, but he noticed nonetheless. And he thankfully concluded that perhaps she wasn’t yet hating him with the fire of a thousand suns…

"Yeah, no, I erm,” he stuttered, “I just had the obligatory medical check-up for a next project. But you?"

He was astounded though, for a woman who was most definitely not an actress she slid back into her defensive pose oh-so easily. A tall blank wall arose, that gave way to nothing or nobody. He swore he had caught a glimmer of relief into her eyes before though, but all sympathy had fled from her now.

“Good-good,” she replied with formal nod, “just - work.”

Tom took notice of how curt she suddenly acted. How could he not. But to Charlotte it was simply her only means as she desperately did not want to feel a single thing. Not those stupid-ass fireflies, not the inexplicable angry hurt, not the stomach drop. None of it. She wanted nothing more than to be cool and step over all of this matter-of-factly. Her gut swirled with bottled up questions and insecurities, but she would have none of that. Water under the bridge.

Get over it Daniëls. He sure has.

3. Believe

Charlotte slid into the leather seats of his fancy car. A fresh cool bottle of water clasped in her hands. He’d paid for it despite her vehement veto. He wouldn’t listen though. And now she was here, in his car, because he offered to drive her to the St. Pancras Station. She’d refused, replying she was taking the underground so he really shouldn’t bother. It was noon. Traffic would be a mess, etc. However she ended up giving in to this request - albeit reluctantly - because he was right on one thing; they needed to talk. Privately if possible and the hospital lobby was just no place to do just that.

But in spite of that, they did not exchange one word once inside the car. Tom pulled out of the underground parking with a silent ease. And emerging in the London streets and into the full sunlight, he reached out for his trusted sunglasses. Meanwhile the familiar scent of leather and some citrussy car perfume tempted Charlotte’s mind into a trip down memory lane, back to another night several weeks back in time. A night with equally nervous heart flutters, but for entirely different reasons.

He queued down the main road, while desperately trying to sort his thoughts before settling on a

“You’ve never answered me…”

Charlotte remained at a loss for words for a couple of seconds before huffing a vexed “honestly?!” and shaking her head in disbelief.

He could hear her as she exhaled loudly, seemingly trying to get her mind pulled back together again,

“With quite a delay I got your texts and,” a pause, “your voicemail.”

His eyes urged her on.

"You said - if memory serves me well, and it usually does - that you wished you'd said ‘goodbye’.” Charlotte paused, “forgive me but I thought that was how this worked for you."

"How what worked?"

"You didn't show up!!" She didn’t mean for her voice to go up in pitch and she furiously furrowed her brows to compensate for it, "I mean, it's all right, I was ….. naive I guess? Somewhere I knew I wouldn't see you again that night, but yet hoped for it. Against better judgement."

"Wha, wh- why would you expect I wouldn't show up?"

Charlotte lifted her chin and rested her head against the headrest while releasing a cold and hollow laugh, which he didn’t particularly cared for, "To-om!"

But he remained silent, a bit dumbfounded and clueless for what to say next. A car behind them honked, frustrated Tom had failed to acknowledge the light turning green and was still at a halt.

"You don't want to let anybody down, I understand," Charlotte muttered, "no need to..."

"Only I did," he interrupted, "I let you down, I let myself down. I’m just…”

“Just stop it,” Charlotte interjected as she shook her head in seeming defeat and looked at him wearily.

“You know, I hate it how you are making all of this around you?”

“I’m sorry,” he blinked twice, “come again?”

"Like it’s all your hurt feelings in the scale here. It drives me mad….” she huffed, “You know, I think or at least I hope we've established in the past that I'm not really the type of girl that just goes crawling into bed with someone on a whim?”

Charlotte gestured aggravatedly, “so excuse me if I'm a bit rough around the edges here, but I clearly heard you say ‘goodbye’ to me. So, what else would there be left for me to say? It didn't really feel like a message that allowed any type of answer…"

“So just,” she sighed, “let’s just call this for what this is or was. And move on?”

A pang went straight through his heart. He saw her turning away and looking through the window from the passenger seat at the building that passed her by. Good. He desperately needed a minute to himself to let her words sink in. He couldn’t quite grasp the fact that she would see him as this promiscuous playboy who just went sleeping around with whomever struck his fancy...

“I demand an appeal,” he muttered as he turned a corner.

“You what?!”

“Well, isn’t that what they do in your job?”

Charlotte snapped her head back. Oh really?

Trapped in a car. In traffic. No way for an escape. And he wants to plead his case. Fucking perfect.

“You know,” he argued more determined now, “you keep saying, ‘let’s call it what it is’. And then you do just that. And proceed to you turn your back on me. And it’s settled?” he questioned.

“But what about me? Do I at least get the chance to call it what it was for me?” he pressed on, “I do feel like you owe it to me to let me explain..."

"Owe it to you?" she frowned with a huff, hovering clearly unsettled.

"Yes, Charlotte,” he replied. Curt. To the point.

“And if you truly feel the way you say you do - I promise, I will not push this matter further. However I will not let you silence me before I have spoken my part.”

"I wanted to see you that night. But the crowd, .... and then some fans walked up and then there was this critic," he sighed in utter frustration and banged the steering wheel in sheer annoyance, "I am an idiot! I know I am. And I should have been more firm. I went about it all wrong. And for that I will be forever angry with myself."

“But,” he sighed, “I did want to see you and ... verify that the other night was not just a dream. I longed to see you. To hear you. To hold you and to kiss you goodnight. Not goodbye.” he shook his head in disbelief.

“And if I said that wrong on your voicemail then I apologize for it. All of it. I was tired. Impatient.”

Heartbroken

He held her gaze, “I am not thàt type of man you seem to want to take me for, I am not the type to sleep around. You must believe me on this one. I might not have the best track-record with you so far; I admit,” he added a bitter laugh, “but this is true. I promise you that."

She kept silent. This seemed like a good sign…

"But Charlotte, I called you and went straight to voicemail. To me, that was quite a clear message as well... No response is still a response, Charlotte,” he concluded.

"Have you spoken your peace, Tom?"

He replied to her with a silent surprised nod.

“Apparently,” she mumbled, “when you attach a cell-phone to a power bank it shuts off everything so it loads faster…”

“Of course,” he wrinkled his nose as he shrug his shoulders as if to convey her he did not see the point of this lesson, “that’s the way they work.”

Charlotte raised an eyebrow ironically, “well congrats to you but I didn’t know that.”

“What on earth?”

“In Edinburgh, a colleague of mine lent one to me… my battery was running low and … I didn’t want to miss any….” She furrowed her brows and looked down at the drink in between her hands. “I didn’t have a watch. My cell is … my clock, my calendar. It erm - it automatically put me in flight mode. I didn’t realize. And I’m sorry about that.”

He looked back at her with sympathy and nodded, “ok.”

She nodded with a kindhearted smile, “so, appeal granted. It’s good we talked. But, you don’t want this."

"Ouch," he chuckled and clutched his heart. "Well that stung. For a minute there I thought he came to an understanding here?"

"Don't miss my point," Charlotte slanted her head and looked at him with sympathy.

"And don't you miss mine,” he interrupted her, “because even though you believe you speak the truth, you are wrong."

"Am I?"

"So very wrong! Because, as it turns out, I do wànt this,” he gestured between them, “or at least a fair chance at this.”

But Charlotte only rolled her eyes and turned her gaze outwards again.

“My god! I swear there are pitbulls that are less tenacious than you!”

Charlotte grunted and looked down at the bottle in between her hands, before a stupid grin fell from her lips.

“I swear,” he shook his head, “so help me god.”

“And now she’s laughing… You’re putting me through hell here darling...”

“I’ve missed not talking to you,” he finally dared to confess, “And I so desperately wanted to reach out to you, only I … don’t know where you live, I didn’t know where you’d be? So,” he lingered, “I sent flowers to your firm.”

“Well congratulations to Luke,” Charlotte rolled her eyes.

“I tend to pick and send my own flowers, darling. I’m very precise about those things.”

She kept silent. Good.

Tom stared at the steering wheel before him,“Gladiolus, for strength of character, honor and conviction. And they needed to be white; the color of perfection, safety, purity and faith. Writing the accompanying card was an outright hell though because the odds were your colleagues might get it before you did.”

“That was you?” Charlotte reminisced a WhatsApp from her office depicting a gorgeous bouquet and demanding what she had said or done to deserve the honour of such a wonderful bouquet. They couldn’t make out the card though. It only mentioned one word, but the meaning of it was lost on everyone.

Until now.

“Maktub,” Charlotte whispered, to which he nodded.

‘Maktub.’ ‘It is written’.

A deep belief about destiny Paulo Coelho writes about in ‘the Alchemist’ where he captured it in just one word. Maktub. Everything is destined and written. How when and where has already been planned and we shall not get anxious about it. Just little patience and it will just come with time provided and the efforts needed.

She glanced up in his eyes that convey nothing but a clear bluegreen sincerity. She wanted to ask him to say that again, for good understanding. But he gladly repeated it on his own accord.

And there went her heart. In one thousand pieces, scattered all over the ground.

4. Achieve

He officially declared traffic was an absolute mess. It was barely noon and within 20 minutes he had barely made any significant progress towards Saint Pancras Station. Worriedly he inquired with Charlotte when her train was departing and when she quietly confessed “16:03” he dropped his chin to his chest and bit his lip trying to suppress a laugh.

“Can I propose lunch now?” he chuckled, to which she pleasantly nodded. That would be alright.

They agreed they would start over at lunch, wipe the slate clean. Talk. And reset.

Tom made a swift U-turn, sneaking into smaller streets. Homeward. He wanted to let out Bobby first, drop of his paperwork, leave his car. Charlotte wordlessly followed his path.

The chocolate brown Cocker Spaniël happily greeted his master as Tom set foot into his house. Charlotte followed quietly, awkwardly. Bobby sniffed her legs both suspiciously and curiously. When she crouched down and offered him the palms of her hands, he studied and snuffed them gratefully, ultimately giving them a little lick before ignoring her completely and favouring Tom over her.

Tom chuckled, “well, you’re accepted it seems.”

He clicked his tongue, guiding Bobby out into his backyard while Charlotte nervously waited around the living room. She wanted to go explore his bookshelf across the room. As she progressed down the room she admired the stupendously comfy-looking lounge chair and fought the urge to try it out herself. As she ran her fingertips over the fragments of paper that lay scattered around a reading table, her eyes fell upon an article with her name on it, post-its with scribblings on it. An email address, a phone number, some doodling, scratched out words. City names. As she picked up the interview curiously, a second one featuring her appeared underneath. Charlotte chuckled, had he really been trying to track her down?

A soft chuckle brought her back to reality. Tom stood against the door frame, smiling bashfully.

“Caught me red handed.”

But Charlotte could only look at him, rendered speechless.

“Wasn’t lying,” he reminded her, “wanted you. Want you. If you’ll have me.”

It turned out to be the most difficult question anybody had ever asked her.

Do I want this - Do I want to invest in this, whatever it is, potentially discovering it would be only a waste of her time.

Charlotte stood by her belief that notwithstanding their shared morals or values, their common interest or visions, they did remain so different on countless other things. Things that mattered just as much. And you did need some common ground to form a solid basis on which you can build your relationship. Without a solid base everything goes to waste. Hell, even with a solid base things could very well still go to waste. Her marriage was a perfect example of the latter.

On the other hand though... this was him. The man that slowly but surely had crawled under her skin. Attentive, interested, good hearted. And when she’d crumbled down in Germany he was there, while he didn’t really need to be there. Yet there he was, offering support when she had needed it most. He unknowingly found the smallest of cracks in the seemingly airtight seal around her heart and nestled himself inside. Gentleman-like, well dressed and with a good book. Ever patient. Trustworthy. Present. Shit.

Her stomach was in knots when she came to realise, that day, what her heart had known deep down a few days earlier; she could not walk away. Not from this man. But the future scared her nonetheless.

"But - we're as different as chalk and cheese,"

"Are we?"

She smiled, "we live out of our respective suitcases."

"For now," he corrected her.

"Yes, for now. But when I touch down after all this...."

"You'll still only be 2 hours away,"

"But..."

"I dare you," he grinned, feeling he was winning this battle.

"Brexit," Charlotte tried.

"Honestly, Brexit? Of all excuses you come up with, Brexit?"

"Well,..."

"I will gladly add some more pages to my passport. For you," he paused. “Come on darling, don’t hold back now,” he teased, “any objection you have, give it to me. I will gladly deny or overcome every single one.”

“To-om,” she slanted her head. He liked this ‘To-om’ better, when her voice was full of loving emotion again.

“Either you go at it with passion, or not at all,” he added.

“Permission to engage the enemy sir?” he chuckled.

Charlotte rewarded him with a lopsided smile. Momentarily banning all scary thoughts out of her head she gladly but carefully opted to open her heart and take the leap of faith. As petrifying as it felt. Her smile was all the persuasion Tom needed to walk the short distance between them. He stroked her dark brown tresses, admiring her soft feminine features and seeing if he’d remembered them correctly.

She closed her eyes when he slid his hand into her hair and slowly he leant in for a soft kiss. And another one. And another. Sweet and innocent, little testaments of adoration and longing. She ran a hand up from the nape of his neck and through his curls. She’d missed this, that much was true already. And she allowed herself to revell in this sudden rush of enamourment.

She felt his lips curve into a smile in between pecks.

“‘m getting better at this,” he whispered

“Hmm?”

“Third time's a charm. No interruptions here, only Bobby.”

“Nu-uh,” Charlotte breathed, “you’re still buying me lunch Hiddleston.”

Later that afternoon Charlotte lovingly petted Bobby's head before making her leave. Tom had signed up for ComiCon in Vienna, which coincided with her seminar. Only two more days and they would be together again. After sharing a loving last kiss, Charlotte stepped outside into an unsure yet thrilling future.

Tom had asked her to call him when she'd arrived home, claiming he'd only worry until he'd heard from her. He was so easy to love.

Two more days….

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x ofc #simple-things

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my-hiouv · 5 years

Text

Bucky Barnes/reader

Home. Home. It felt so nice to finally be on your way back home after being away for close to a month. After the battle that happened in Sokovia that involved you fighting with Earth's mightiest heroes otherwise known as The Avengers, taking down Ultron. Except you were just a bit more injured than the rest. You just might have gotten shot in the chest and abdomen during the fight and lost so much blood you nearly died. Definitely wasn't a big deal. Tony hadn't known initially what had happened until Steve found you on the brink of death in the streets as Sokovia was about to fall. After you had the necessary surgeries and acceptable rest time in the hospital, Tony had sent you to London for a month to heal and recover even more and just to take it easy. Of course you were extremely thankful for Tony to do that for you. Even though initially you had fought him on the idea but you couldn't say no after he basically confessed how he felt watching you practically die in Steve's arms and how he wanted you to be 100% back to normal before you even thought about coming back to work. That had hit you and you decided to go after hearing that. Tony cared a lot for everyone, but how he showed it was a different story, so for him to be so upfront with you about it, you knew you had to go.

Tony cared a lot for you the most, however. He brought you into his home and his life when you were 8 years old. Tony (and a handful of nannies) had raised you and gave you the best possible life, one you definitely would not have gotten if not for him. Your father was murdered by what you believed to be a Russian Spy Organization when you were 8, and your mother died when you were 3 from Leukemia. For reasons unknown to you at the time, you were put into SHIELD's care and ultimately you were brought and put into Tony's care. You never asked how SHIELD knew you and found you, or how the true nature of your fathers death. That would come to light to you in a matter of time. Still, however, you were thankful and you were always reminded of that whenever Tony did something elaborate for you, or in this case, sending you to London. Since the Sokovia incident, you had been thinking about life, more particularly, your life. Almost dying in a foreign country after being shot, from what the surgeon said, 5 times, really gives you a whole new perspective on life. You were quickly brought back into reality when you heard the pilot announce that the plane would be landing and the instructions that followed. You sat back and relaxed and smiled to yourself, excited to finally be back home. Be back in the United States, back in New York, back with your family. You couldn't wait to get back to the compound to reunite with everyone.

You got off the plane and grabbed all of your luggage and carry on's and began your descent towards the exit looking for your ride. You had gotten a text the previous night from Clint, saying he would be the one to pick you up from the airport and take you home. You walked and looked around trying to find your dirty blonde haired friend when suddenly something in your peripheral vision caught your attention. You turned fully to the right to look and saw what, more like who, had caught your attention. You squinted your eyes and realized it was none other than Clint Barton himself, holding what seemed to be a big sign. You walked closer and confirmed that yes, it was indeed a sign. A homemade sign at that. It had read "Welcome Back from Prison Clara!" with pictures of you with photoshopped jail bars over them. You observed it and laughed hysterically walking over to greet him. You went to hug Clint tight and once he had let you go, you stood and faced him ready to communicate in Sign Language, as Clint was Deaf and didn't always wear his hearing aids. You learned how to sign when you were younger so you could communicate with him, and just to have it as a second language as it could be helpful.

Clint saw you had started signing but he held his hand up to stop you. "Got my hearing aids in kid!" he smiled and hugged you again.

"Good! So now I can proper laugh. Welcome back from prison?! Who's idea was that? Your's or Sam's?" you laughed as you let go of him and picked up your suitcases. Clint tucked the sign underneath his arm and grabbed the remaining carry on's.

"It was a combination of both of our unique talents. It was a team effort truly. Nat had to lurk on your Instagram and Facebook pages for good pictures that would look great behind jail bars." he chuckled as he lead you outside to the car. The sun was shining and it was a beautiful June day, a perfect one to come back too. Clint had tossed your carry on's and the sign in the backseat while you put your suitcases in the trunk of the car. You then climbed in the passengers seat while Clint hopped in the drivers and started the engine. "Ready to finally go home?" he asked and started the drive.

You nodded. "Words can't describe how ready I am. I've missed you all so much! What have I missed since I was gone?" You asked curiously. You were kept updated if anything big or important had happened, but other than vital information, you didn't know what was going on. It wasn't your friends fault, things just got bust with the different time zones and them trying to recover from what happened in Sokovia too.

Clint shrugged as he drove. "Honestly? Not much. Nothing to report on Thor and Banner's disappearances."

"They're fine I'm sure. Once Bruce gets back to his normal self he will find his way home. He is a scientist after all. As for Thor...he's Thor. It'll work out for him!" you tried to say brightening the mood but you honestly weren't sure. No news is always good news but you hoped 2 of your friends were all right. "How's Natasha taking things? Is she still upset?" you asked a bit quieter, but were curious about. Being one of Natasha's closest friends meant she didn't hide her true feelings from you, meaning she trusted you the most. Only you and Clint were the 2 people she told absolutely everything too and confessed everything too.

"She's doing better. She's happy you're coming home so that'll turn things around. Oh!" Clint exclaimed as he remembered. "We have new company!" You looked at him and raised an eyebrow curiously.

"Yeah? Who decided to join the island of misfit toys?" you snickered as you plugged your phone into the adapter to charge.

"Steve's friend from the land before time! James-uh Bucky! Yeah Steve and Sam located and found him and brought him to the compound. He was pretty messed up from the stuff that Hydra put him through but he's been doing good. He's been here about 3 weeks, he came not too long after you left. He's a quiet fella but he's fine." You nodded your head listening to Clint. You knew who Bucky was, hell you and Sam were the ones who helped Steve track him down after your encounter with him as The Winter Soldier back in Washington DC the previous year. You, Steve and Sam worked tirelessly trying to find him. Steve was so set on finding his best friend, you couldn't let him do it all on his own. You looked out the window lost once again your thoughts as you faintly heard Clint clear his throat, bringing your attention back to reality. "Hey...Steve's doing good too. He missed you a lot and is happy you're back. He's looking forward to seeing you, he was basically counting down the days this month." Clint winked at you and a smile formed on your lips. Steve and you were basically best friends at that point, having been through hell and back with him for nearly 3 years now. You had moved with him to Washington DC so he could help you train and you could help him adjust to the present day. You would follow him into the darkness and follow him into any war. You basically trusted him with your life and knew he trusted you with his.

The rest of the car ride back to the compound was spent chatting with Clint about what you did in London, your experiences and what you want to do if you're able to go back. As you two pulled into the compound, you smiled wide and looked around. Nothing had changed except the grass was cut and was greener in the front. You missed absolutely everything about home. As Clint parked, you unbuckled and hurriedly ran to the back of the car to begin grabbing your luggage out of the trunk. "Go inside Clara, I got this." Clint told you and you hummed your thanks and you practically ran inside.

"Clara!" You heard a female voice exclaim from behind you and you turned around to greet her.

"Wanda! It's so nice to see you!" you opened your arms initiating a hug. She embraced you and hugged you softly. "How are you? Have you gotten settled okay?" you asked, making sure she felt comfortable in her new home.

She nodded and broke contact but gave you a reassuring smile. "It's easier than I thought, but I am happy here. Everyone has been so welcoming. I'm starting to feel at home." You smiled warmly at her.

"Good, I am so glad! Later tonight I will have to tell you all about London, I think you would like it there."

The brunette girl smiled again and made her way up to her room on the lower level. "I'd love to hear all about it Clara. Get settled in and we will catch up soon."

You nodded once again and you were walking towards tot the door to help Clint bring in your things when you heard footsteps and a male voice call out, "I, too would love to hear all about London." Once you heard him speak, you couldn't help but smile wide and turn around quickly, running towards him. You knew it was Steve the minute he opened his mouth, and he was standing there with an equally as wide smile looking at you.

"Stevie!" you practically screamed and jumped into his open arms wrapping your legs around his waist hugging him tight. This had been the longest you had gone without seeing Steve and you were happy to see him again.

He twirled you around hugging you back equally as tight and whispered so only you could hear, "I've missed you so much..". You beamed upon hearing that quickly kissed his cheek showing your appreciation and happiness. It warmed your heart knowing Steve missed you as much as you missed him.

"Damn what do I look like here? The incredibly handsome sidekick who gets treated like chopped liver?!" you heard someone else say. Smirking, you hopped off Steve and went to where he was standing.

"Come on Sammy you know I love you and sidekicks and hate liver." you smirked again and hugged your other close friend tight. You had met Sam back in Washington DC when Steve did and the 3 of you have been an inseparable team since. "I missed you too third wheel." you joked as you hugged him again and he smiled.

"Missed you too Clara. It's been awfully quiet around here and I haven't been able to live up to my full smart ass potential. My mouth is a little rusty." you laughed and broke the hug standing up.

"Well I'm back now and you'll be on the sass train soon!" Sam chuckled and patted your shoulders making his way to the kitchen. You heard Steve clear his throat and you turned to face him and saw that he was joined by another man. You looked over to the other man and were met with the most beautiful pair of crystal blue eyes you had ever seen. You smiled at him and could feel the heat residing in your neck travel up to your face and you looked down stifling a smile. You couldn't get those eyes out of your vision, never mind the rest of his incredibly handsome face.

"Clara, I'm sure Clint told you what happened while you were away." Steve started not noticing your internal battle to hold back the giggle that was stuck in your throat. You were not going to giggle over him, you weren't a teenager. You coughed softly trying to get rid of it and nodded letting Steve know you heard him and were informed. "Great! So then, Clara, I would like to introduce you, formally of course, to Bucky." Steve practically beamed introducing two of his closest friends. Your head shot up when you heard his name. Bucky...so that's who you spent the better half of a year helping Steve find. He looked so...different than the pictures Steve had shown you and much different than the last encounter you had. Bucky's hair was longer and his eyes, while still insanely blue, were sunken in more. You figured out it was from the stress Hydra had put him through and the years of torture he had endured. You also knew what had happened to his left arm, as Steve told you and you had witnessed it first hand. But still, he was so...handsome. He looked much more human. And handsome. Yes, very. You tried not to study him and make him uncomfortable, so instead you walked over to him and extended him your hand.

"It's so nice to finally meet you Bucky." you smiled at him and said in a softer tone. Bucky had grabbed your hand with his right one and hummed in agreement.

"Likewise Miss. Stark." he said quietly, but loud enough for you to hear but looked past you as he said that. That was odd, just a moment ago you swore he was looking straight at you. You brushed it off and chuckled.

"Please call me Clara, unless we're being formal James?" you arched your eyebrow insinuating you were being sarcastic but his name rolled off your tongue and it was a feeling you quite enjoyed. Bucky shook his head softly.

"Bucky will be just fine." He said looking at you again with those damn blue eyes, but this time the gaze was softer. You smiled a wide, toothy, genuine smile.

"Fantastic. Clara will also be just fine." you said and clapped your hands together "I would love to stay and chat, but unfortunately for you boys I have to go unpack and then get ready. Tony couldn't wait until tomorrow to hear about my trip so he's requesting that I come over for dinner tonight so we can catch up. He called me every night but still it's nice to see him after a month." you told them as you grabbed a bottle of Dr. Pepper from the fridge, as you left the mini fridge in your room empty. "Also Steve, when you have a minute can I speak with you privately please?" you asked, this time your tone more serious.

"Uh sure? I'll meet you in your room in a moment then?" he told you confused, which was understandable. You shook your head and began walking up the stairs to your room.

"Oh and also Steve, thanks for bringing your cute friend to stay. Things were getting awfully boring around here for us girls." you turned back and winked in Bucky's direction, causing his face to turn bright red. You smirked to yourself walking up the stairs, knowing exactly how to make an exit and make an impression.

About 10 minutes later, you were putting your dirty clothes into laundry piles, which you would start later that night, when you heard a knock and Steve walked into your room. "Hurricane Clara hit I see. She's a Category 5." he teased as he found an empty spot on the chair that's pushed into your desk. You stood up and chuckled and walked to your bed where there was a smaller bag resting.

"Yeah, definitely a massive cleanup will be in order." you teased right back and rummaged through the carry on bag. As you were looking, you and Steve spent a few moments in comfortable silence until he finally spoke up.

"You made an impression on Bucky. I haven't seen him turn that shade of red since he took a girl to dinner and she started rubbing his knee during the meal!" Steve laughed and smiled fondly at the memory. "She brought a friend for me so Buck and I could double date. Her friend was nice, but she was more interested in the waiter than me." he chuckled softly again. You sat on your bed watching him, and held the items you were looking for.

"Well she lucked out. A true catch you are Steve Rogers. She didn't know what she could've had." you half smiled and kicked his shin playfully from your bed, your long leg reaching.

"Yeah, I suppose I am. So, what did you need to talk to me about?" he questioned, his Captain America voice making an appearance. You took a deep breath in, clutching the folder in your hand.

"So, while I was in London, I met someone." you started and you saw Steve frown a bit. You rolled your eyes grinning. "Not like that weirdo. Someone I saw that was on SHIELD's wanted list. A Hydra agent..his name is Gregio Sharpe." You continued. "I knew this guy and his crew liked to move about to stay off the grid and any radar's so I thought this was the perfect chance to try and get close to him." you said looking up at Steve, who you could see was clenching his jaw. He didn't say anything, yet, so you took it as a key to continue. "So..I decided to make it an undercover mission. You know, dress up, put on the red wig, which, by the way, looks amazing on me, and disguised myself as a French Tourist named Cosette." you paused, laughing at that, still not believing you used the name of a character from your favorite musical. "I got close to him Steve. Spent 2 weeks with him, every night in fact. The closer I got, the more he trusted me. Began spilling secrets, information, everything you name it. One night, he took me to the flat he and his team were renting out. They were using it as a headquarters of sorts. But he told them to leave that night so he could be alone with me and-"

"YOU WENT WITH HIM ALONE?! Clara are you crazy?! You could've gotten yourself hurt-or worse killed! You didn't even BOTHER to let any of us know you were doing this?!" Steve stood up and screamed at you.

"I KNOW! But he was trusting me and I knew I could get information out of him Steve!" you yelled right back, causing Steve to huff as he sat back down. "That night I slipped a lot of sleeping pills into his drinks, so by the time we arrived at the flat, once he sat down on the couch, he fell right, into what I assumed, was a very deep sleep. That's when I got these." you looked at Steve again and held up a manila envelope and a flash drive, with a small smirk on your lips. "On the flash drive is a copy of all the information on Gregio's computer. Information about him, his fellow agents, future missions, projects..." you took another deep breath handing him the envelope, "current targets." Steve took the envelope and pulled the papers out and began reading.

"See that girl? That's Anya Ovelv. The current target of Hydra. Her father was working on a serum similar to yours, and she was injected with it when she was 3 years old as a way to stop the spread of an illness that was already inside of her and was spreading. Her father's last ditch effort to try to save his daughter. They're looking for her so they can try to get the serum out of her to replicate it" you started, refusing to look at Steve.

"What illness did she have?" Steve asked flipping through the papers.

"Leukemia..Anyway the serum worked and the girl is now 24 and living a healthy life. The serum didn't work on her the way it did you though as the formula was changed and altered. But the girls dad was the only person who knew the formula and how to create it again. He never wrote it down so nobody would find it and replicate it. Not yet anyway. That put him at the top of Hydra's radar and when they made their move and raided his home, they demanded he give it to them. He refused. Even with a gun to his head, he still refused to give it up, knowing Hydra would only use it for malicious purposes. So, Hydra did what they had to do. They shot him. With Anya still hiding in the house. They raided the house looking for Anya, but they didn't find her." You explained, trying not to let a tear escape. You sniffled and ran your fingers through your long bleach blonde hair, which was in dire need of a touch up.

Steve was watching you and nodded in understanding, looking back at the file. "That's really too bad and everything, but Clara, we don't know where this Anya is. Even if we wanted to help her, we have no idea where, or who she is. She probably changed her name to get off of Hydra's radar, and she probably fled the country. There's no possible way to help or protect her."

You looked at Steve dead in the eye. "That's just it Steve. I know where Anya Ovlev is." You took another deep breath and let it out slowly, preparing again. "That's my real name. I am Anya Ovlev."

by idksteverogers (you can find this archiveofourown btw)

#archiveofourown #fallingslowlychap1 #sebstan

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