Tumgik
#( answered . ) \ / you may bring your urgent matter to me .
mischiefmodig · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
What are you hiding? prompt \ / @brokeassgoing
asked: "I'm not answering the question!"
Tumblr media
❝ I believe it is a perfectly reasonable question to ask. ❞ Loki turns the page of his book, barely looking up at the red-headed individual standing before him. The info broker had been doing decently at collecting information for him, but the information was beginning to slow to a halt.
It had been several months at this point and with an island so small, there was no doubt in Loki's mind that Badou had encountered the man.
❝ Everyone has their opinions, so what are yours on Thor? ❞
8 notes · View notes
mkkk12345 · 6 months
Text
Mishaps in the potionology classroom
Malleus x reader
A late-night tutoring session turned into a night of frantically looking through textbooks and babysitting a baby dragon. 
We all know what started this, I would die for this little guy he’s precious, no spoiler warning cos I’m not on JP server lol. 
2K words
----
What were you going to tell Lillia? How well will Silver take this? How is Sebek going to kill you? These were the questions that floated through your mind as you held a baby dragon prince in your arms. What were you going to do now… after an incident like this you were surely going to be on some fae hit list. 
It was an accident you swear, but that didn’t matter now did it, how impromptu tutoring session come to this? 
It all started when you asked Malleus for some assistance with your potionology class homework, you wouldn't normally ask someone like him who probably had something better to do than tutor you but it was late at night and you were desperate. You had spotted him out the window of your room in Ramshackle when the idea popped into your head. Ask him a few questions out the window and it would be over, right? 
Wrong. 
“Tsunotaro do you have a minute to spare?” you asked him as he turned his head up in surprise
As always he answered with a smile “Why yes of course I do, I always have time for you my dearest perfect.” relief flooded your features and you started to explain your situation.
“There are a few questions on this potionology homework that aren't clicking, I dont think it will take too long but would you like to come inside it's colder than I thought out there.” How could you resist, it was only the proper thing to do no? He is a prince after all, and it was indeed unusually cold out tonight it couldn't hurt to invite him into your dorm. 
You quickly rush to the door to let him in, guiding him to your room where Grimm was, as expected still sound asleep on your bed belly up snoring. “Please excuse him, you know how he is.” you sigh as he chuckled,
“Please don’t worry, now what did you need help with my dear” Your heart skipped a beat almost dropping the extra chair you were bringing over to your desk. 
Sitting down and clearing your throat you begin your impromptu tutoring session with Malleus “W-we’ll there's this part here-” 
With Malleus’s help, you quickly progressed to the last question but as you read it your eyes grew wide, how could you overlook this? “Using the recipe provided on page 324 of the textbook please recreate the potion you have been studying. Oh god, how did I miss Professor Crewel telling us about that in class?” you bury your face in your hands in defeat. 
Unbeknownst to you a smile grew on Malleuses face “Worry not child of man, shall we go to the potionology classroom? I’m sure even the spirits that roam the halls of the school would not dare to stop you if I came along.” 
“Is that really ok? I mean it's midnight we aren't even supposed to be out of our dorms at this time of the night.” lifting your head you looked at him with worry in your eyes. 
“You may place your trust in me, I shall take the fall if anything were to happen.” You sigh giving into desperation for a second time tonight. 
And that's how you were now stuck in the potionology classroom with a baby dragon frantically calling Grimm for help. Was it the best thing to do at the moment? No. But what else could you do? Calling a professor was out of the question, you could be expelled for something like this. Calling one of the other first years was also out of the question, you didn't want to drag them into this either.  So you went to your last resort, Grimm. 
“Y/N where are you do you know what time it is?” Grimm sleepy shouted into the phone. 
“Grimm I’m sorry for waking you up but I’m in a sticky situation right now, I’ll explain everything later but right now I need you to come down to the potionology classroom it's urgent-” Just then little dragon Malleus decided he was bored and wanted out of your arms, “Hey Tsunotaro stay still-” it was then that the little guy swung his tail up knocking the phone out of your hands and onto the floor, effectively ending the call. 
“Well at least that might get him to come over here quicker,” you sighed as you tried to wrangle Malleus to stay in your arms. “What are we going to do with you little Tsunotaro, I can only assume that what we made and accidentally splashed onto you was an age-reversal potion of some kind.” you held him out hands under his arms like someone would hold a long cat. 
A few minutes later Grimm slams the door open “Y/N, are you ok!” Grimm shouted out of breath from the long run over to the potionology classroom. 
“Yeah sorry to worry you Grimm, Tsunotaro made me drop the phone,” you said as you turned towards Grimm, bringing the little dragon closer to your body. 
With a confused expression, he cocked his head to the side and pointed at the little guy in your arms, “Is that?” 
“Yeah” Filling Grimm in on the situation you sat down on the floor and subconsciously began to play with Malleus’s little feet, petting him as if he were a cat. In your defense, he was cat-shaped and sized and he seemed to begin to relax in your lap as well. 
“So what do we do now?” Grimm asked now coming closer to the little dragon in your lap to get a closer look. 
“Well if you could pass me that textbook and help me look for a solution to this before anyone finds out that would be great.” You looked at him with a tired smile. 
A few minutes had passed and Grimm walked over to you and pulled at your sleeve too afraid of what would happen if the sleeping dragon in your lap woke up. He looked up at you and back down to the textbook in his hand pointing at a particular sentence in the page. You quietly read it aloud “There is no way to reverse the effects of the potion, the amount of time the potion is in effect is determined by the amount of potion the individual comes in contact with.” you sighed in relief,  from what you could tell only a few drops had landed on him. “Judging by the table here he should be back to normal in a few hours,” you finally allowed yourself to release the breath you were holding. Now looking back down at little baby Malleus in your lap you could finally take in how absolutely adorable he was, his tiny wings, those eyes that were slightly disproportionate to the rest of his head, the way he squished his little head into your stomach. Looking back up at Grimm you smiled “Ok let’s clean up the evidence and go back to Ramshackle to get some rest, we might have a little explaining to do tomorrow.”
Somehow you and Grimm had managed to get back to ramshackle without incident and without waking the sleeping dragon in your arms. Upon entering the dorm Grimm spoke up “So where are ya gonna put baby Tsunotaro for tonight? Because I am not giving up my spot in bed.” Grimm stood defiantly in front of your shared bed. 
“Grimm please dont be stubborn, it's just for one night, plus he is the future ruler of the Briar Valley, who knows what hitlist the fae will put us on if he gets mad” You stare at Grimm with a fearful expression (fake of course but Grimm doesn't have to know that). And with that, the three of you were off to bed. Although things might have turned out in Grimm's favor because for the rest of that night every time you weren't holding little Malleus in your arms, he would whine and make a fuss until you would take him back into your arms against your warm body for cuddles. 
As per usual the next morning you awoke to your alarm clock blaring from the bedside table. As you groaned you attempted to move to turn the wretched thing off but instead, you were met with the realization someone was holding you, preventing you from moving. “Allow me a few more minutes of bliss please dear.” a husky low voice borderline growled into your ear as one of his arms reached over you to shut off the alarm clock. 
“Malleus?!” this is not what you were expecting to wake up to this morning. You thought you would wake up with a tiny little dragon in your arms if your calculations were correct, maybe the potion didn't work as well on fae? You thought as you stared up at his handsome face who stared back at you. 
“Yes, my dear prefect? Is something the matter?” he looked at you inquisitively, surely he didn't think this was normal right? To wake up and just be cuddling with someone?
“Ah well um I just thought I would be waking up to a little dragon this morning.” you laughed awkwardly as you tried to relax in his hold. 
“Worry not, a potion as weak as that would not have such an effect on me. Oh or are you perhaps disappointed at the fact you no longer get to see me as an infant? Lilla has told me I was quite cute back then.” he chuckles as your red face burying yourself in the sheets. 
“He isn't wrong, you were very adorable,” you spoke softly from under the sheets.
Malleus then suddenly pulled your body closer to his, ”Am I no longer cute now dear? Oh how you wound me” he spoke as he tucked his face into the crook of your neck. 
If you thought you were red before, now you were probably even redder than Riddle's hair “Well I… I think your quite handsome now…” you whispered as your hand moved to stroke his hair. “Not that you weren't handsome before this or anything! I just-” 
“Will you two get a room or something?! Can't a cat get some extra sleep before class without lovey-dovey fools realizing feelings so loud?!” Grimm shouted as he got out of bed and walked out of the bedroom “Geez, not even one day of peace in this damn dorm.” he grumbled under his breath before slamming the door shut. 
And with that, the two of you burst into a fit of laughter enjoying one another warmth under the covers for a little while longer before getting ready for school yourselves. 
“Hey isn't your dorm going to go into a panic looking for you this morning?” You asked Malleus from the bathroom as you got dressed. 
He responded with a chuckle “Worry not, Lillia came to find me earlier this morning. The only one I would worry about is Sebek.” he spoke with a smirk on his face. 
Back in Diasomnia
“WAKA SAMAAAAAAAA HAS ANYONE SEEN WAKA SAMA,” a certain green hair crocodile was currently screaming his head off as if someone had died. 
The usually sleepy silver-haired boy crossed his arms and shook his head at the sight, “It’s going to be a long morning.” 
All the while the pink-haired ​​vice house warden was laughing his head off at the sight of the chaos occurring. 
1K notes · View notes
strwbrythoughts · 4 months
Text
no stopping a man in love | alhaitham
In which the traveler and Paimon catches Alhaitham indulging in something unexpected.
A/N: I might as well make this whole blog dedicated to Alhaitham because man's got my heart in a chokehold :(
Divider by @/osqrie
Tumblr media
The House of Daena was filled with the sounds of pages turned over and the quick footsteps of the students flitting from one bookcase to another. Furrowed eyebrows and downturned lips decorated each of their faces. The librarian seemed stressed out to navigate the flurry of students and assist them in finding books. Even a stranger could tell the obvious; examination season was right around the corner.
Alhaitham, the ex-Acting Grand Sage and current Scribe of the Akademiya, had his eyes glued onto his surroundings. Though his expression remained neutral, he couldn't deny the feeling of annoyance building up inside him. The library was way too noisy to be called one. It was a good thing that he was enjoying his read so far. Though, the choice of reading fiction was something that not a lot of people would expect from him.
Yes, he had a book titled "The Genius Falls in Love!" nestled in his hands.
He didn't really catch the eye of anyone. After all, it wasn't weird that the Scribe would spend his day in the library instead of his office. His work hours were long but he never really complied to them. That was something that the students were mighty jealous of. What they didn't know, however, was that his work was always submitted on time with the highest quality. A trait that most of them could only hope to achieve.
Alhaitham put on his noise-cancelling earphones. His eyes relaxed slightly as he could focus better on the book in his hand. He was already on chapter 22. An impressive amount of reading, given that he only received the book that morning.
His body rested fully onto the chair he sat on. He closed his eyes, remembering the sweet smile his wife gave him as she handed him the book.
'Here, honey!' she exclaimed, shoving a book into his hands. 'If you miss me at work, read this book I wrote! And tell me how it went, yeah?'
From the moment he stepped out of their shared house, he flipped the book open. 'Ridiculous,' he thought to himself. 'I always miss you when you're not by my side.'
And so off he went. He finished all the work he deemed urgent enough on that day, before immediately going back to reading. It was quite the comical sight, really. The stoic genius reading a fictional book? A romance, at that? Impossible. Utterly ridiculous.
And yet, here he was.
The work day passed by so quickly when he spent it reading. Before he knew it, the librarian came over to his spot and told him that the library was closing. Alhaitham immediately got up and left to go home.
--
The walk back was quiet and peaceful enough. The mere sight of his wife's face as she greeted him at the door was enough to make a smile appear on his face, no matter how slight.
"Honey! How was work today? What did you eat during lunch? Did you have time to read my book?" It was expected that his wife would bombard him with questions the moment he came home. However, she was special in every way. For instance, he would always answer each question she had calmly, no matter how frequent or stupid they may be.
"I'm back. Work was completed like usual today. I ate the lunch you prepared for me, and I'm halfway through your book, my dear."
His wife giggled at the thought of her husband taking some time out of his busy day to read her work. What she didn't know was that his day was scheduled around her, and never around anything else.
Until the traveler and Paimon had some interesting news to bring to her.
--
"Traveler, look! Is Alhaitham reading...a romance?"
Paimon's voice bounced off the walls of the House of Daena. She had successfully captured the eyes of many students, causing the traveler to put their hand over their head. Perhaps to block a headache induced by her lack of realisation that they were in the library.
Paimon's hands flew over her mouth right after the words were uttered. Her eyes seemed apologetic enough, darting over to the traveler as a silent apology. The traveler merely shot her an awkward smile.
It was a good thing that Alhaitham himself did not pay them any mind. The way his ears perked up slightly showed that he indeed heard Paimon, but perhaps chose to ignore them. However, the eyes glued to his person was quite bothersome, even for someone as stoic as him.
He shut the book in his hands quite loudly, hinting his irritation at Paimon. She only gulped and shot a panicked expression at the traveler, who deadpanned at her. The both of them stood still as they heard Alhaitham's footsteps approach them. He was getting closer and closer with each thud of his footsteps.
"I would appreciate if you did not point out whatever business unrelated to you." His voice was calm, just like his expression. His eyes told a different story all together. The traveler's flying companion could only apologise repeatedly, while the traveler shot him an apologetic smile.
After a few seconds of awkward silence between the trio, the Scribe walked away from the both of them. His right hand carried the romance book he was reading quite delicately, as if it was his most precious treasure. And it truly was.
Anything related to his wife was a treasure to him, and he would never forgive himself if he failed to appreciate even the simplest things about her.
--
"...and that was it! He seemed really annoyed that the Akademiya students were looking at him curiously." Paimon ended her story to Alhaitham's wife. She merely chuckled at the tale.
"Of course he was. He dislikes people getting into his business after all."
"Are you sure he isn't acting like that because he's embarrassed about getting caught reading something so...unexpected, of him?" The traveler furrowed their eyebrows as their companion asked such question with no hesitation. She really needed to learn to read the room sometimes.
Before she could answer, Alhaitham embraced his wife from behind. His eyes were calm, as if having his wife in his arms was all it took to make him feel tranquil.
"Do you really think I'd be reading such book in public if I were to be 'embarrassed' about it? Moreover, how could my lovely wife ever make me feel embarrassed?"
That was more than enough of an answer for the traveler and Paimon. They smiled sweetly at the response. The smiles were short lived, however, as Alhaitham sent them both out of his house, wanting to be alone with his wife.
Ah, well. There's no stopping a man in love, is there?
Thank you for reading! <3
467 notes · View notes
Text
Oxytocin
Pairing: Egon Spengler x F!Reader
Summary: While looking for a new research assistant Egon finds you, a parapsychologist whose always wanted to be a Ghostbuster. Little did you both know that there would be a lot more than research and ghostbusting that would bring the two of you together. 
Warnings: None! Just fluff. 
A/N: Bare with me y’all. I’m really trying to get back into writing so I can answer some requests that I have. Please be patient, I promise I haven’t forgotten. I just need to get back my gumption for creating things. Thank you for understanding and I love you all!
Tumblr media
“Venkman. Venkman, you’re getting distracted again. Would you please come into the lab?” Egon calls from the threshold of his workspace. Peter turns, jogging over to the lab and finding a rather uncomfortable bench to take up residence on as the two men talked. The first closed the doors, making his way to the work table. 
“Geez, Spengs. You know, you really oughta get more comfortable furniture in here. No wonder you’re so cranky all the time.” 
“I’m not cranky.” Was all Egon could say in return as he picks up a stack of papers, handing them over to Peter. “Now, I want you to look at this research I’ve been conducting. In the New York area alone paranormal activity has nearly tripled in just the last few weeks. This is getting dangerous, Venkman. I’m not sure how but I know the slime is connected to all this. I just need more time and more hands to be able to finish my research.” Peter tilts his head to the side.
“So what do you need? A bottle of whiskey to keep you up at night?” 
“You know I don’t drink, Venkman.” Egon says, scolding mildly. “No, I need a research assistant to help me conduct my experiments.” 
“Doesn’t Ray help you out?” Peter asks, picking up a tool on the edge of the nearby table and twirling it between his fingers. Almost as soon as he does so Egon reaches out, taking the tool into his hand and setting it back down so that Venkman will actually pay attention.
“Ray is great and he knows his stuff but he’s not always here. I need someone reliable who will be at my beck and call until we can figure out exactly what’s going on with this slime.” He insists. 
“Alright. I get it. You need an assistant. Consider it done buddy.” Peter says, hopping off the bench and strolling towards the door. 
“Now, Peter. I want to hold the interviews myself. I just need the money to pay whoever I find to add on to the team.” 
“The money is yours pal.” He calls back as he finally makes his way out the door. Egon can’t help but roll his eyes at Peter’s seeming lack of caring for his current predicament. However, he pushes past those feelings, knowing that the man meant nothing by his apparent boredom. That’s just how Venkman always was. Nothing that could be done now. With the final approval from Peter, Egon set about writing out an advertisement for the papers to be posted ASAP. 
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Scientist Seeking Research Assistant! Matter Is Urgent, Will Pay For Help. Come To The Ghostbusters Headquarters For More Information. Interviews Being Held During Normal Business Hours. 
The ad was short, sweet, and to the point. Maybe that was what drew you to it. You didn’t need any hassle in your life right now. Just a paying gig that would fit into your schedule. Then again, there was that word. Ghostbusters. You may not have wanted to admit it, but that was really what drew you to this particular ad. That one word. Your entire life you had always loved learning about the paranormal. Of course your family hated your fascinations. They found them to be blasphemous and unholy. That never stopped you though. As soon as you had the opportunity to go to school, you finally found your place among other parapsychologists and you never wanted to go back. 
Just as you were finishing up your last year of school, you started seeing the ads on TV. A group of paranormal experts that called themselves the Ghostbusters became all you thought about. You tracked their every move, studied their work religiously. They were doing exactly what you’d always wanted to do. Catching ghosts. What a thrill that would be. Ever since, you’d made it your life’s mission to become a part of that team. Now, here was your in. You may not be a Ghostbuster but you were good at research and if you could use that knowledge to help then by god, you were going to. 
As you made your way out of your bed, you pulled on the most respectable looking ensemble you could find. Black pants, a nice blouse, and a black blazer. Simple but professional. Just what you were going for. You wanted to show them you were exactly the person they were looking for. Filled to the brim with excitement you left the house without even stopping to eat. That could wait. The Ghostbusters could not. As soon as you were able to hail a cab, you sped off down the busy New York streets for the old Firehouse. When you arrived you were completely starstruck. You’d seen it so many times but you’d never actually set foot inside and now was your chance. You gave the door a good tug, stepping into the building.
Inside the lights were dim, barely lighting your way as you looked for the front desk. It was just ahead of you, more illuminated than the walkway. There didn’t seem to be much natural lighting but frankly, you didn’t mind. Behind the desk sat a woman with a short auburn bob, flipping through a magazine. You stood as tall as you could and gave her a nod when she looked up at you. 
“Hello. My name is Y/N L/N and I’m here about the research assistant position.” Upon hearing your words the woman leans back in her chair and yells out a name towards the back of the Firehouse. 
“Egon will be here to interview you in a moment.” She says with a smile before going back to her magazine. With that you waited, taking in your surroundings. That is until a tall man with fluffy brunette hair stepped out from the back, walking in your direction. His eyes lit up when he saw you, like you were an old friend. 
“Hello, I’m Dr. Egon Spengler. Can I assume you’re here about the research assistant position?” He says with excitement. 
“Yes, I am!” You return his enthusiasm as he reaches out to shake your hand. You take it, feeling his soft palm against your own. 
“Excellent. Just excellent. I’ll be conducting the interview in my lab. Follow me please.” He opens up the small gate for you that leads into the back rooms of the Firehouse. You happily step through, feeling like you were finally a part of their world. He directs you right back to the lab, opening that door for you as well. What a gentleman he was. It made you grin to yourself as you finally stepped into his lab. There were several work tables that were neatly piled with tools and beakers filled with chemicals. Notepads with various notes on them laid strewn about. His handwriting was very neat and you could read each word perfectly. The combination of chaos and order surprised you but this was definitely an environment you could work in.
Dr. Spengler offered you a seat on the couch against the far wall, rolling over a chair for himself. You sat down quickly, eager to begin. 
“If you don’t mind, I’d like to jump right into things. You’re about the tenth person I’ve had in here this week and I’m very eager to move this process along.” You nod in agreement, ready for whatever questions he might have for you. “Good. Why don’t you tell me about your experience in the field? What are your qualifications?” 
“Well, I actually attended Columbia University for a number of years and received my degree in parapsychology. I’ve completed a great number of research assignments in my time there and I went on to conduct some of my own research funded by the University.” 
“Odd. My colleagues and I were actually in a very similar situation a few years back. Small world I suppose. What research were you conducting?” He leaned forward, hanging on your every word. 
“Well, I was performing some studies to determine the spike in paranormal activity in the New York area opposed to other states in the country. There has been almost triple activity in this area even just over the last several weeks and frankly, I’d like to know why.” 
“Another incredible coincidence. That’s exactly what I’m researching. I have some leads but nothing has been determined yet. That’s why I need help. I don’t have the hands or the time to do all this myself.” 
“I understand. I couldn’t determine anything either, especially since I was forcibly removed from the University last week.” 
“The more you speak, the more I feel like this is a perfect arrangement.” He adds with a self satisfied smile. “You’re much like my colleagues and I in many ways. I’m very intrigued to find out what your mind has to offer. How early can you start?”
“I can start right now!” You say, a little too exuberantly. 
“I greatly appreciate your initiative and enthusiasm. Two very underrated qualities in the world of science. You can’t just do it because you must. You have to have a passion for it. It seems like that’s something you possess.” His words have you absolutely beaming. Although you have to admit that he has certainly surprised you. Based on the ads you see on TV you’d think Dr. Spengler would be rigid and cold. However, here he is talking about passion and giving off all the warmth and friendliness you can handle. It’s a very welcome change from what you had thought initially. You can’t wait to see what other surprises are in store for you. “Well, since you’re currently available I’d like to catch you up to speed on my research. I can share notes with you. Do you have a notepad handy?” He asks. 
“Always.” You reply smugly, pulling a pad of paper from inside of your bag. This causes an impressed smile to spread on his face as he starts gathering up his notes to show you. As soon as he’s organized, he is off. His information comes at the speed of light but you wouldn’t dare ask him to slow down. You simply keep up to the best of your ability, writing down everything you can to study at home. 
After about an hour of being inches apart while comparing notes, Egon finally sets aside his last notepad. Taking a step back towards his chair you realize that you’re actually quite sad at the loss of warmth. He reclines back, extending an arm to the couch behind you both. You sit again, now recognizing that you’re quite exhausted from the rapid fire work the two of you had been doing for a while.
“Well, I’m quite happy with how today has gone. Needless to say, the job is yours. If you’ll come in every day of the week during our normal business hours, we can get you set up with the proper equipment to continue our research.” Hearing him call it ‘our’ research made your heart flutter. “You’ll have weekends off. I can pay you minimum wage, I hope that is sufficient for your needs.” 
“That works just fine for me.” You add. 
“Good. I’m sorry it couldn’t be more. Do you have any questions?” 
“Yes. Will I ever get an opportunity to meet your colleagues or will it always be you and I working together?” 
“Oh yes, you’ll certainly meet the others. When Ray isn’t busy on jobs he usually spends time here, working in the lab. You’ll most definitely cross paths with him. As for Venkman and Winston, I’ll introduce you. Since you are a part of the team now.” Hearing him say that nearly knocked you out of your seat. You’re part of the team now. 
“Wonderful. Well, I don’t think I had any other questions.” 
“Excellent. If you do think of something don’t hesitate to give me a call. I’ll give you my number so that you can do so should you feel the need.” He stands and writes down his phone number on a slip of paper, handing it to you as you stand too. “Well, I won’t wear you out on your first day. You’re free to go but I will see you tomorrow.” 
“Yes! Definitely. See you tomorrow.” With that he leads you back to where you entered from, seeing you off as you run outside to hail a cab. On the ride back to your apartment it’s all you can do not to scream out of sheer excitement. You were finally doing it. Making your dreams come true. You were almost sure that’s all it was, a dream. However, you knew that this was your reality now. Working with the Ghostbusters, doing exactly what you’d been training your whole life for. God, you couldn’t wait for tomorrow to come.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
You slept poorly, tossing and turning with excitement all night. When your alarm finally went off you jumped out of bed without a moment of hesitation. You had already picked out your outfit the night before, slipping it on as you headed for the door. Once again you did not eat breakfast, too ecstatic to ingest anything. Once you hailed a cab you were off, headed for your new workplace yet again.  
When you headed into the Firehouse you were immediately greeted by Egon, who was standing right inside the door. As soon as he saw you he checked his watch. “You’re early. That’s excellent. With all the work we must get done, it’s important that you’re here as soon as you can be every day.” You nodded as you walked towards the lab.
“You know what they say! Early is on time, on time is late.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” He adds, straightening his lab coat. “Now, I do want to prepare you. My colleagues are all waiting for us in the lab. I wanted to introduce you to all of them and catch them up to speed on our current research. They won’t be around long so don’t worry.” 
Little did Egon know you were far from worried. After years of following their work you were on the verge of meeting all of the Ghostbusters. You couldn’t wait. Yet you knew you had to stay calm. 
When you finally stepped into the lab you saw that they were all crowded around a beaker of slime which sat on a workbench, watching it curiously. None of them dared touch it until Egon had arrived. Once you both came into view all three of them perked up, exchanging happy little smiles at the sight of you. You took up residence on the other side of the workbench, trying to contain yourself. Egon stood beside you and you looked at him expectantly. 
“Gentlemen, I’d like to introduce you to Y/N L/N. My research assistant. I believe she’ll make a strong addition to the team.” You beamed proudly at the introduction. “Y/N, this is Winston Zeddemore, Peter Venkman, and Ray Stantz. My colleagues.” 
You extended your hand to the first one in line, Winston. He took it happily. You went down the line like that as they all shook your hand. 
“Well it’s a pleasure to meet you Miss L/N.” Ray was first to speak.
“Please, feel free to call me Y/N.” You add. 
“Well, Y/N,” Peter was next. “It is nice to meet you. Although I’m highly doubtful that you’re any kind of scientist.” 
“Peter, I’ve heavily vetted her myself. She is--” Before Egon could finish defending you, the man continued his statement. 
“I only mean that I just don’t think pretty scientists exist. I mean, take a look at this ugly mug.” He says with a laugh, pinching Egon’s cheeks in his hand. “You are far too beautiful to be a scientist.” 
You look up at the man beside you who shares an annoyed glance down at you. You would never admit it but you highly disagreed with Peter. Egon was one of the most handsome men you’d ever laid eyes on. You’d have to be blind not to notice his beautiful features. Of course the thought made you blush so you pushed it away, reengaging with Venkman. “Well, thank you but I can assure you I’m highly qualified for this work. Trust me, I can get the job done.” 
“Well, I’m looking forward to seeing just how efficient you are.” He said, giving you a little grin. You knew that he had meant something naughty by the way he’d said it so you simply chose to ignore him. 
“I for one am glad to have you on the team.” Winston added. “It’ll be nice not to be the new kid around here for once.” 
“Me too!” Ray said. “I’m excited to have you around the lab. We’ll be working together every now and again. Can’t wait to get to know you.” His response was heartfelt and you couldn’t help but smile. 
“Now that introductions are out of the way,” Egon began. “We’d like to show you what we’re working on.” He prompted Ray, who had helped to begin this research. The man moved the container of slime into the middle of the nearby work table. Everyone crowded around, including you. You were very intrigued to see what research had been conducted thus far. Egon had told you all about the slime the day before but you hadn’t gotten a chance to see it. Now you were going to get a good look at what it was really capable of. 
“Watch this. Go ahead Ray.” Egon began. 
“You! You worthless piece of slime.” Ray yells. As he does so, the slime begins to bubble. Only slightly but enough for you all to notice. “You ignorant disgusting blob!” He continues. 
“You’re nothing but an unstable short-chain molecule!” Egon adds. 
“You foul obnoxious muck.” 
“You have a weak electrochemical bond.” As the two take turns yelling at the slime it bubbles further, getting closer and closer to the top of the container. 
“I have seen some disgusting crud in my time, but you take the cake! You--” As Ray begins to get out of hand, the other three rein him back in. The sight of the young scientist getting so invested in the bubbling slime makes you giggle a bit, unable to stop yourself. 
“This is what you do with your spare time?” Peter asks. 
“Peter, this is an incredible breakthrough. I mean, what a discovery! A psycho-reactive substance. Whatever this stuff is, it responds to human emotional states.” You eye the slime, utterly fascinated.
“Mood slime.” Peter chimes in, simplifying the whole discovery down to a much more manageable but seemingly accurate term. “Oh baby.” He adds in a seductive tone as he leans down towards the container, backing away quickly when the slime bubbles again. 
“You mean this stuff actually feeds on bad vibes?” Winston asks. 
“Like a cop in a donut factory.” Ray affirms.
“We’ve been running tests to see if we can get an equally strong positive reaction.” Egon says, nodding his head at the group.
“What kind of test?” Peter asks after a brief pause. 
“Well, we sing to it, and we talk to it, and say supportive, nurturing things to it.” Ray adds with a tinge of embarrassment. 
“You’re not sleeping with it, are you, Ray?” Venkman can’t help but joke. However, as soon as he says it there is a palpable tension between Egon and Ray. The two exchange a glance and you can’t help but notice the blush that comes to Egon’s face. Winston and Peter join you in looking at Egon. That’s when you all come to the same realization at the same moment.  “Oh you.” 
“It’s always the quiet ones.” Winston says incredulously. 
“You hound!” Venkman adds, holding in a laugh. Egon quickly clears his throat and begins to get up from his seat. 
“How about the kinetic tests?” Everyone walks across the room behind him but your mind wanders to that little comment. What could that have possibly meant? After only a day of knowing Egon, you found your mind wandering to the thought of what he got up to you in those hours of the day when he was by himself. Ashamed by your dirty mind, you brush the thoughts away and join the others. 
The next set of tests are particularly impressive and give you great insight into the slime. They took a small drizzle of slime and poured it into the open end of a toaster, setting it up on the table for all to see. After blasting some Jackie Wilson the toaster begins to pop and dance, making you all laugh. Once the two are done showing off their experiments the others vacate, leaving you and Egon alone. 
“I’d like to continue my experimentation on the slime. I’d like you to help me take notes and observe for now.” He instructs. 
“Yes, of course.” You pull out your personal notepad, getting your pencil ready. He dives right in, playing other kinds of music to see what might affect the slime and in what ways. You obediently take notes of its behavior, curious to see what will get it going. 
After another hour of work, Egon excuses himself briefly which leaves you in the lab completely by yourself. You cradle the notepad to your chest, watching the slime for a brief moment. Looking around to make sure you are truly alone, you take a step closer. A thought pops into your head. Rather than waiting for Egon, you decide to test your little theory for yourself. Clearing your throat, you start to sing the song that had played over the speaker earlier. “I said your love keeps lifting me higher. Higher and higher, higher.” You croon. As you do so the toaster bubbles and pops twice as much as it did before. 
“Magnificent!” Egon exclaims. You jump back, ending the song once you know he’s there. “I didn’t expect such a reaction but I suppose it makes sense that the slime would react more strongly to a beautiful voice. I’m afraid Ray and I aren’t really singers.” He immediately begins writing things down and you look over his shoulder, seeing if you had taken the same notes. “Sing to it again. I’d love to observe.” 
Now that you have to perform on the spot you’re suddenly quite nervous. You didn’t sing anywhere but the shower so this was very nerve wracking. Especially since you had already taken such a strong liking to the man who was now beside you. You wanted to impress him. Once again you clear your throat and start singing. The reaction is immediate, the toaster jumping to life at the sound of your voice. As you sang you couldn’t help but recall that Egon said you had a beautiful voice. For some reason the compliment made you blush.
After a moment you stopped however Egon kept writing, simply murmuring to himself. “Excellent. Absolutely outstanding.” He says before turning to look at you. “You’re already making terrific contributions to the research. Thank you.” You nod your head shyly. 
“I’m just glad I can help.” You say with an earnest smile. 
“Well, I think we’ve discovered a great deal. I look forward to seeing what tomorrow has in store. You’re free to head home for the day.” He says, turning away from you to continue writing things down. 
“Oh. Okay. Well, I’ll see you tomorrow then.” You can’t help how disappointed you feel that the day is over already. You could have stayed there in that lab with Egon for hours. However, you didn’t want to overstay your welcome so you grabbed your things and headed out the door. Once you were on the sidewalk you couldn’t help but let out a little squeal of happiness. This was everything you had hoped it would be. And more. After meeting Egon it was much better than you had even dreamed it. It was all you could do not to jump for joy but you contained yourself, hailing a cab. As great as today was, you couldn’t wait for more of this fascinating experimentation. Of course that’s not all you wanted more of but you’d never say it out loud. Heading home, you decided to get an early jump on sleeping so that the next day would come sooner. That night you dreamt of ghosts and research and science and Egon. 
Tags: @localsimpmigraine​ @theespookybitch​ @twinkie-buttercream​ @fizzyfazzy420​ @boneless07​ @holewithinahole​ @spengler-in-a-jar​ @the-hidden-pages​ @the-mechanical-angel​ @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @egonscalculator​ @sporesmoldsfungus​ @tedesquire​ @killerheelsonadiscodancefloor @emeraldborealis​ @bisexual-thoughtss​ @notquitecanon​ @finniestoncrane​ @lonelyridesinecto-one​ ​​@tinyvesselhearts
246 notes · View notes
knowltonsrangers · 1 year
Text
provenance
TURN!Marquis de Lafayette x reader
[tw//: mentions of not eating, undefined depression, and anxiety ahead. please read at your own discretion.]
Food pushing was the first sign of distress, so he’s noted.
Lack of appetite always seems to be the reasoning, the simple “I’m not hungry,” can suffice, but for only so long. It carries, the concern, into a day, then heavily when it becomes a little less than a full week.
He can only sit and abide by it for so long, until he’s ready to keel over, watching once more as your fork becomes a stick, picking and poking at dinner.
It’s a frustrating thing to look at, because no matter how much he asks, you never have an answer for him.
His nose twitches in discontent, yet he pushes forth, swallowing the anger that fights its way forward. Anger that he cannot help you. Whatever it is, you’ve made it clear you did not want to talk about it.
“Is it alright if…if I go take a walk? I need to clear my head…”
You ask, still staring down at your full plate. You’re only asking because you know if you just got up and left, Lafayette would be at your heels in a moment, wondering why you’d want to go out in the cold, at a rather late hour.
But somehow, something in that sentence brings a smile to his eyes, and he nods happily, standing from his seat.
“Shall we?”
He’s invited himself, no surprise there, yet, you’d feel like something was missing if you gone without him. You haven’t gotten to do this in a long while, and it would be your mind that would become your enemy if you took this trip alone.
“I know you do not wish to talk about it,”
Lafayette had helped you into your coat, insisting on putting your gloves and scarf on. After, he shrugs his own coat on his broad shoulders, black leather gloves to his hands.
You had begun the walk in silence, yet, Gilbert broke it after a handful of moments.
“And you do not have to. I can talk this entire time, if you would like,”
You barely blink before another sentence leaves his lips.
“However, I am so very troubled by this, y/n. I do not like it that you have not eaten, and that beautiful smile has been gone from your face for too long.”
Your hands come to shove in your coat pockets, when you take notice of Lafayette’s hand, dangling just at the perfect height at your side. It’s a subconscious feeling, and you heed it, taking his hand in yours and giving it a squeeze.
To his surprise, yet, he doesn’t question it. It’s the first move you’ve made on your own, and he would rather die than have you pull your hand away.
“Y’know…when you have those obsessive thoughts. That sometimes everything happens for a reason?”
Your voice is hoarse, unable to find anything to look at besides the sidewalk below.
“Mhm, I do.”
“It’s a mantra that I keep saying over and over, yet, I still don’t know if I believe it. Everything has been thrown in my face, and then some, and I think I’m at my breaking point.”
Gilbert’s heart sinks into his stomach, and he slows his stride just a bit, feet shuffling at your words. It’s the first time you have brought this feeling to him, and many times you have expressed it physically, just by body language, this was the first time you have spoken it, verbally.
“Well, think of it this way,”
You sniffle, eyes watery as they slowly move upwards to catch his gaze. To blatant surprise, he’s staring right at you.
“Sometimes, people walk into your life for a good reason, and walk out of it for a good reason. Same with things, places—you must take the good with the bad,”
He exhales, and a puff of cold air comes as he does so.
“If you are at your breaking point, y/n, then do not hesitate to talk about it. Whatever you need, that is why I am here. A ‘good cry’, as you call it, may suffice as well.”
You nod, pulling his hand tighter so you leaned on the upper part of his arm.
“Promise me we’ll work on that?”
Most people, in times of urgent desperation, would make the decision to allow the other to solve it for themselves, with necessary assistance.
Lafayette says ‘we’. He insists on seeing you through this, together, and it wells something else in your chest as you can’t help the smile that comes to your face.
Still staring at the sidewalk though, you wouldn’t see it, the look Gilbert gives you. His heart actually skips a beat, he thinks, just watching your smile that had disappeared for so long.
It’s a huge relief to see it back, and you have no idea what it does to him.
“Thank you.”
You whisper, picking at your coat buttons with your unoccupied hand. Gilbert shakes his head, and mumbles something about ‘anytime’ before he waves his hand dismissively.
“If it’s alright with you,”
You start warily, eyes finally able to move off the ground.
“I’d like to go back, I’d hate to waste dinner,”
He sends you that award-winning smile, nodding happily as you begin to walk back home.
“Of course,”
There’s a lapse of silence.
“Oh, and one more thing, y/n?”
He asks, just when you reach the steps.
“Mhm?”
“I love you,”
Your lips twitch upwards.
“I love you too.”
129 notes · View notes
animusicnerd · 1 year
Text
Attention Please!
Tumblr media
☾ Genre: Fluff
☾ Warnings: mention of death (It's fluff, I swear)
☾ Parings: Riddle Rosehearts x GN! Reader
☾ Notes: I just wanted to do something fluffy (for once) for Valentine's Day and found a dialogue prompt ("Hold my hand or I'll die") that I thought was funny. Cross-posted on AO3.
☾ Twisted Wonderland and it’s characters do not belong to me ☽
Tumblr media
It’s no secret that Riddle worked a lot. His time management skills were near perfect in order to do the workload that was demanded of him. He is a dorm leader and one of the top students in NRC. It’s no easy task to do either of those things, and you know this.
But a few things that you’ve noticed about Riddle since you met him was that when he is focused on something, he will complete his task and then some. As such, he tends to tune out the world around him, especially if he’s alone. You’ve learned that a few taps on his shoulder would get his attention, maybe accompanied by a few calls of his name. Usually, he would stop for a moment, ask what you need and then wrap up whatever he’s doing if your matter was urgent. 
However, you heard nothing from him all day.
Usually, Riddle would answer his phone right away, if not a few minutes afterwards. He would also inform you whenever he was busy to avoid blowing up said device, but he also didn’t do that today. Maybe he forgot and put his phone on silent to avoid his ears from being blasted off in case somebody called while he listened to music, or maybe he saw it while he was busy and just forgot to text you that he was doing something. You don’t know.
What you do know is that you did not see nor hear from Riddle all day, and the first thought on your mind was to rush over to Heartslabyul to check up on him. Luckily, you were greeted by Trey at the door who informed you that Riddle has been in his office most of the day and hasn’t budged an inch since lunch. It was almost tea time. 
You stared at the scene in front of you. Your boyfriend was hunched over his desk in his office, eyes roaming over a report. He was dressed in his dorm uniform though the crown was placed near the edge of his desk, most likely put away after using it for so long. Your eyes zeroed in on his phone face-down on his desk and the earbuds plugged in. So his phone was on silent.
“He’s been like this for a while,” Trey whispered. He had led you towards Riddle���s office knowing that Heartslabyul’s maze of a dorm was hard to navigate. The two of you were standing at the threshold of his office, quietly waiting for the dorm leader to notice you but he didn’t. His eyes were still on the paper in front of him, occasionally marking it. “I’m a bit worried since he hasn’t eaten since lunch.”
You sighed. “It’s fine, just leave it to me.” You looked at the small stack of papers to his right and the larger one to his left. “He’s almost done, so it’s best to wait it out and let him finish whatever he’s doing. I’ll bring him down in time for tea.”
Trey nodded and left the room. You sat on one of the chairs in front of Riddle’s desk and pulled out your phone to check the time.
Four o’clock PM, an hour until tea time. 
You looked at Riddle again but his gaze was still zeroed in on his paper. You glanced at your phone again and groaned. An hour was going to be a long time.
About fifteen minutes in, Riddle had neatly placed the paper on the left pile. You may or may not have spooked him a bit when you waved at him as he was putting the paper down but all he did was give you a gentle smile and nod before grabbing the next paper from the right stack. 
By the thirty minute mark, you were getting tired of waiting for him. Aside from Riddle acknowledging you earlier, his eyes had stayed glued to the paper. The soft scratching of pen against paper was the only thing that broke the silence. Your boyfriend at least had some music but you didn’t, and after worrying about him all day, you had no more patience to wait for his attention. 
Leaning over, you rapidly tapped Riddle’s desk until he looked up. He tilted his head in confusion when you held out your hand.
“Hold my hand or I’ll die,” you bluntly stated.
Pulling out one earbud, Riddle blinked. “What?”
You raised your hand higher. “Hold my hand or I perish.”
His eyebrows furrowed at your antics as he said, “I need my hands to work.”
“You only need one hand to write.” You shook your hand, practically shoving it in his face now. “And I only need one of your hands to hold mine, so hold my hand or I die.”
“You won’t die, if I don’t—”
“I will.” 
Riddle blankly stared at your hand then at you as if reconsidering if this relationship was worth your silly distraction (it was) before sighing. A satisfied smile stretched across your face as you moved your chair closer to the desk to avoid hunching over it. You laid your head on his desk using your other arm as a pillow, careful not to touch any of his work, as you watched him go back to work. Content to just watch him until Trey inevitably called the two of you down for tea.
Tumblr media
124 notes · View notes
jinnxd · 1 month
Text
🏥🏥CHAPTER 52 OMAKE🏥🏥
Shortly after Kiya’s apocalyptic breakup with Mizuki, a startling realization fell upon her one night during her evening shower. 
Slapping a hand over her mouth in abject horror, Kiya’s wide-eyed gaze slowly drifted down to her legs—specifically, to what was in between them. A fleeting bout of nausea washed over her, one that she swallowed back with an audible gulp. 
“Fuck.” Kiya groaned defeatedly, slumping back onto the cold shower wall. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. I’m such an idiot.” Each expletive was punctuated with a slam of her head against the wall. 
Mizuki had been cheating on her with at least one other girl, she knew that much for a fact. He’d somehow wormed his way into another girl’s pants. A miracle, if she’d ever seen one. 
What she didn’t know was how long it had been going on for. 
…And if he’d used protection during any of it. 
Knowing Mizuki, though? It really, really wasn’t likely. Which meant that Kiya really, really needed to go and get tested, ASAP, especially considering the possibility that Mizuki hadn’t slept with only one other girl. Who knew how many more times he’d cheated on her? And who knows what diseases she may have caught from him?
(Because she was an idiot and carelessly let Mizuki hit it raw.) 
“…Fuck!” Kiya exclaimed once more, her hatred for Mizuki rising to a near-impossible level. Concluding her tantrum with an aggravated sigh, Kiya grumpily shut off the water and stepped out of the shower. 
A tentative knock sounded from the door. “Um, Kiya-nee? You okay?” 
“Just fine, Naru-kun.” Kiya responded glumly. “Don’t worry about me.”
How embarrassing would it be if she had contracted chlamydia again? Disgusted with herself, Kiya made a promise that she would go to the hospital tomorrow morning, bright and early. 
The next morning, Kiya set out for the hospital. She wore a nondescript pair of black athletic shorts and a black hoodie with the hood pulled up, hoping to draw the least amount of attention to herself as possible. Head ducked down the entire trip through the village, Kiya finally arrived at Konoha Hospital. Taking a left and walking down the corridor to the attached building where the urgent care clinic was located, her heart dropped in her chest at the sight of a decent-sized line already waiting at the reception desk. 
‘I know why I’m here at six o’clock in the morning, but why is everyone else here at six o’clock in the fucking morning?’ 
Eight other people stood there, each one gazing at her with varying levels of interest. Blinking back at them, Kiya squared her shoulders and got in line. She was a woman on a mission, dammit.
Slowly, the people in front of her left one-by-one as they checked in and sat down in the waiting room before eventually being guided off to an exam room by an employee. The line behind her had steadily grown longer as more people showed up, about eleven people long by now. 
Finally, it was her turn. 
Clearing her throat and stepping up to the desk, Kiya shot the receptionist a nervous smile. The woman’s eyes flashed with recognition, flickering down at her scar and back up to meet her eyes. A small smirk crossed the woman’s face.
“Name?” The receptionist asked anyway. 
“Uchiha Kiya.” Kiya answered quietly, a little wary of the glint in the woman’s eyes. 
“And what’s the reason for your visit today?” The woman asked, leaning forward slightly with her eyebrows raised a bit too high. It made Kiya uneasy, almost like the woman was a little too curious about why she was here.
…Yes, that was her job, but still.
Shuffling in place, Kiya attempted to lower her voice even more. “Um… may I just fill out a form?” 
The receptionist frowned, grabbing a clipboard from under her desk and roughly thrusting an intake form underneath the metal clip with a click of her tongue. “A sensitive matter, I assume? Very well. Fill this form out and bring it back up when it’s completed.” 
Kiya stared at the clipboard the woman held in her hands, watching as she set it down on the desk and slid it in her direction. The feeling in her gut worsened, and she just knew that patient privacy would go out the window as soon as she handed that form back to the receptionist. It was like she could hear it now—the catty whispers of Konoha’s housewives giggling about the fact that Uchiha Kiya was reckless, wild, and oh-so-irresponsible enough to need an STD test at 6:00 in the morning on a goddamn Tuesday. 
And if her test came back positive for an STD? 
Good gods, she didn’t think she’d ever live it down. It would only add more gasoline to the fire–give the gossipers even more to talk about and simultaneously worsen her already horrible reputation. 
And so, instead of picking up the clipboard, Kiya sent the receptionist a tight smile and gently pushed the clipboard back across the desk. “Just a bit of pain from an old wound, but it’s feeling much better all of a sudden. Thank you for your help, but I don’t want to waste anyone’s time.” 
“Hm.” The woman hummed knowingly, aiming a disbelieving look in her direction and tucking the clipboard back underneath the desk. “Alright then. If anything changes, please don’t hesitate to come back.”
Was Kiya imagining things, or did the woman look disappointed? 
Without further ado, Kiya spun on her heel and hightailed it out of the clinic, mind racing all the while. What was she supposed to do now? She couldn’t go back in there, and the potential issue at hand was pressing enough that she didn’t want to book an appointment and wait days to see a doctor one-on-one. 
She gnawed on her thumbnail as she paced the hallway connecting the clinic to the hospital, forcing herself to sink down onto a nearby bench to consider her options.
If she had caught something from Mizuki, the idea of letting it simmer and wreak havoc on her poor vag while she waited for an appointment made her nauseous. It had been through enough, already. Kiya wanted to know for sure—and eradicate any unwanted venereal diseases that might have been lovingly bestowed upon her by Mizuki as a parting gift.
Just as she was about to admit defeat and march back into the urgent care clinic, her attention was grabbed by someone calling out her name.
“Kiya? Is that you?” A familiar voice asked from down the hall. The voice sounded familiar somehow, but Kiya couldn’t place it right away. Turning her head, her eyes widened as they landed on the spectacled face of none other than Yakushi Kabuto. 
“Kabuto?” She blurted, the surprise evident in her voice. “What are you doing here?”
His lips lifted into a smile, gesturing at the scrubs that he wore. “Well, I work here, of course.” 
“Oh, right…” Kiya laughed nervously, feeling like a ditz. But she had yet to answer his question… and another one of her brilliant (?) ideas had just popped into her head. “Sorry, I’m all over the place right now.”
“No worries.” He chuckled easily, moving to sit next to her on the bench. “How about you? What brings you here at…” He glanced up at the clock hung on the hallway wall. “Six o’clock in the morning? Is everything okay?” 
His dark eyes gave her a once-over from behind his glasses, concerning shimmering in their depths. Kiya met his gaze with a shy one of her own, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I’m not sure, to be honest. It’s sort of a sensitive issue, and I chickened out of telling the receptionist what I really came here for.” She sighed softly, nodding her head in the direction of the clinic doors. “It’s stupid, I know, but I just need to be sure it’s kept private.”
“No, it’s not stupid at all.” Kabuto said warmly. “If you don’t mind me asking, what is it that you need?”
Kiya squirmed in place, looking down at her hands folded in her lap. “I… It’s… It’s embarrassing.” She squeaked out, cheeks red. Sure, she’d had the ‘brilliant’ idea to get Kabuto to help her, but the downfall of that plan meant admitting to someone that she’d slept with before that she may very well have an STD. It wouldn’t affect him in the slightest since they’d only fucked once and that was months ago, but it still wasn’t a good look for her regardless. 
“Kiya, I promise you I’ve seen a lot worse.” Kabuto laughed softly, placing a comforting hand atop her shoulder. “You can trust me with this.”
Licking her lips nervously and glancing around the hallway for any eavesdroppers, her eyes flickered up to his before falling back down to her lap. “...IneedanSTDtest.”
Kabuto paused, absorbing her words, before breaking out into a bout of laughter. Kiya flinched away at the sound of his laughs, standing up abruptly with the intention of running off, but his hand darted out and loosely grasped her forearm. “Sorry!” He gasped out, another chuckle escaping him. “I swear I’m not laughing at you, it’s just…”
“Just what?” Kiya mumbled crossly, yanking her arm from his hold but sitting back down anyway. “Because it sounds an awful lot like you’re laughing at me.”
He cleared his throat, shoulders still occasionally shaking with lingering laughter. “I–well, okay, I technically am laughing at you, but not for the reason you think, I swear! Kiya, that’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I can help you with that, no problem.”
“If you’re sure it’s not a problem…” 
Kabuto assured her it wasn’t, escorting her to an empty exam room. He began his work, clinically inserting a needle into her arm and beginning to draw blood. “Not to pry, but is there any reason you needed to get tested today? The last I heard, you were in a relationship with one of the teachers at the Academy.”
“Not anymore.” Kiya admitted bitterly, scowling at the reminder of Mizuki. “He, uh… he cheated on me. So… yeah. Who knows what happened there, y’know? Better safe than sorry.” 
His hands paused for a moment, dark eyes flickering up to hers in surprise. “Oh, uh, sorry to hear that. I shouldn’t have asked—”
Kiya cut him off with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Nah, I’m over it. Don’t worry about it.” 
“Well, you were smart to come in today.” Kabuto hummed, pulling the needle from her vein. “And you made the right call not going to the urgent clinic. The only reason I knew about you dating that guy was because I overheard them gossiping about you.” 
Half an hour later, it was finally done. The only thing it had cost her was her dignity, but at least she’d find out in a couple days if she was clean or not. 
Was it weird to have the same guy that had once been between her legs, eating her out like his life depended on it, swabbing her cervix with complete professional composure? Yes. But it was a necessary evil. 
“Thank you again.” Kiya said sheepishly, one foot already out the door. “I owe you one.” 
He waved goodbye to her. “Oh, and Kiya?” 
She halted her footsteps, looking back over her shoulder with a lifted eyebrow.
“Only an idiot would ever cheat on someone like you.”
A small, shy smile spread across Kiya’s face, her cheeks turning rosy at Kabuto’s words. “You’re sweet, Kabuto.” 
(YES I KNOW THE TERM STI IS MORE ACCURATE, BUT STD JUST *SOUNDS* BETTER, OKAY?!)
Also, please practice safe sex, everyone! :)
18 notes · View notes
nicolewoo · 10 months
Text
King Reigns Part 2
King Reigns Part !
Pairing: King Roman Reigns X Reader
Warnings: None
Tumblr media
“Your Majesty” my valet woke me. “I have urgent news for you.” I was mistaken. It wasn’t my valet’s voice. Who dared wake the King? Opening my eyes, I saw Charles next to the bed.
 “Charles, do you aspire to be my Valet now?” I grumbled.
 “Please lay out a riding outfit for the King”. Charles told my valet and servants began buzzing around the room. “No, Your Highness. I have urgent news.”
 “Continue.” I demanded.
“It is in regards to the issue you tasked me with yesterday.” I had no idea what Charles was talking about. When I didn’t answer, he continued. “Sire, The PRIVATE matter. Lady……” He prompted.
 Lady Buckland! I had tasked him with keeping the fair lady from discovering my identity. I ordered the room be vacated.
 Grabbing the pants that had been set out for me, Charles spoke quickly and dressed me faster than he spoke. “Lady Buckland is currently making her way to the Stables for an unchaperoned ride.” I grabbed my tunic, quickly throwing it on while Charles grabbed my coat. “I’ve sent word to the stable to stall as long as possible, and to saddle your horse.”
 “Thank you Charles!” I said as I tied my hair up and Charles slid my shoes on. “How did you find out?” I asked as we exited my room and half ran through the halls of the castle. “Lady Buckland wasn’t at the festivities last night.”
 Looking at me and arching an eyebrow, Charles laughed. “Lady Buckland may not want to attend court, but her driver has no such reservations. Oddly enough, the more ale he drinks, the more he talks. I simply ensured his goblet was never empty, and I got mountains of information on the fair maiden; including that she loves to ride alone in the morning.”
 Seeing a nun going to the chapel, I silenced Charles with a movement. “You are a genius Charles!” I said as the nun ducked into another hall after bowing politely.
 The smell of hay and horse cake filled my nose as I entered the stable. The fair Lady Buckland was nowhere to be seen, and I didn’t want to ask how far of a lead she had, lest I rouse suspicion from the stable hands.
 I thanked the young man who held my horse still as I mounted it, and I rode at full speed out of the barn. The sound of another clop of hooves alerted me that Charles was behind me. “I can handle this myself, Charles.”
 “Sire,” Charles started respectfully. “If this is to happen often, as I suspect it shall, I cannot in good conscious allow you to ride unprotected. I shall not call the guardsmen, but I shall accompany you for your safety.” When I didn’t answer, he continued. “I shall ride far enough away to give you privacy and still ensure your safety.” Now I nodded my gratefulness.
 The stable hands had been successful in stalling because we found Lady Buckland quickly just on the edge of my orchard. She was relaxing by a pond while her horse nuzzled it’s nose against her. She laughed, telling the horse it was tickling her. Charles turned his horse toward the orchard muttering that his horse loved apples.
  “Greetings Lady Buckland,” I said as I neared her.
 For the briefest second as she turned to look at me, I saw annoyance in her eyes, but it faded as she recognized me. “Lord Sussex.” She stood, knocking a few apples off her lap. Her horse was quick to gobble up the loose fruit. “What brings you out?”
 I dismounted my horse, taking his reins, and leading him to the pond to drink. “I often enjoy a morning ride. I find it helps clear my mind.” I answered. “What brings you out to the orchard? Were you enticed by the apples?” I pointed to the grove.
 “They are rather sweet and plump.” She said, looking for her recently discarded fruit. Finding none, she smiled and patted her horse on the neck. “At least that’s what Hera says.”
 “She’s a beautiful mount.” I said patting her horse’s nose. “Did you not try the apples?”
 We stood each of us on one side of Hera patting her neck, the horse’s hot breath snorting in the morning cold.  Grabbing a brush from the saddle, Lady Buckland began brushing Hera. The horse was obviously used to it, and she turned her muzzle toward her owner. “Hera didn’t want to share,” She laughed.
 Holding my hand up to my lips, I whistled as loud as I could. Seconds later, I saw Charles emerge from the grove. “Bring me some apples.” I called out to him, and he quickly trotted toward us with the fruit. Seeing the blanket on the back of his saddle, I grabbed it, and laid it out on the ground after pointing Charle’s horse back toward the orchard and gently tapping his rear. “Would you care to break your fast with me?” I asked Lady Buckland.
 By the time we sat on the blanket, Charles had discreetly disappeared. She answered with a bite of apple. Her eyes lit up when she tasted it. Long moments stretched out as she chewed, and I decided to take a bite of my apple too. It was as sweet as grapes.
 Hera’s big furry head pushed between us, begging for scraps. “Off with you!” the lady teased the horse but grabbed another apple and held it on her palm between us. Hera quickly grabbed the treat from her hand.  Seeing the exchange, my horse, Banon, wanted his own, and he wandered to my side. Holding another apple up, I gave it to Banon who knickered his thanks as he wandered over to Hera. The two horses seemed to get along.
 “If the fruit didn’t lure you out to the orchard, what did?” I asked.
 Turning to face the pond, she took a deep breath of air. She sighed out. “One could say that I too needed to clear my mind.”
 Whatever occupied her mind was far more serious than she led on. Although her lips smiled, there was but sadness I her eyes. I wanted to make that sadness go away.
 “What troubles you?” I asked as I resisted the urge to reach out and comfort her.
 She sighed again. “My Lord, my troubles are not my own.” She stopped as if that was all the information she intended to share.
“Then who troubles you?” I prompted.
 Speaking slowly, she looked around the grounds. “I sit here. Relaxing, eating apples, dressed in this ridiculous frock when I should be home, helping my tenants harvest their crops. Two of my tenants are due to give birth soon, and the midwife is sick. The pigs are fighting off an illness at one of the farms.” She stopped; frustration oozing from her. “I should be back at my estate, helping my people. Instead I’m here to be dressed up and trotted in front of the King like chattel. And what is to happen to my people if the King decides to make me his new queen? How can I tend their wounds, help their births, guide the farmers to the most fertile land?” She stopped again, gathering herself. “I must admit, I’m scared.”
 “Do you not think the King would help your people?” I asked.
 “I cannot know, unless it happens” she said. “We know not what type of king he will be.”
 My father’s death six months ago had come as a surprise to all of us. In a minute, my world changed forever. I was doing my best to be the same type of leader my father was, but now, as I ruled, I felt I often failed to meet his high standards. “I can tell you for certain that our new King is a kind and caring ruler. He strives to be as good of a leader as his father.”
 “It matters not if he desires to be a good ruler. I saw no king when my parents died 10 years ago. I saw no king when beetles ate our soy crops 8 years ago. I saw no king when the plow broke at the Dunderstat’s house or when Timmy died of the plague. I saw no king when a blight killed the corn crops 5 years ago. It matters not what he desires, but what the king does.”
 Her thoughts hung in the air like an engulfing fog. In the span of a few sentences, she had both insulted me and my father’s memory, and yet, she was right. Toward the end of the former king’s life, he was engulfed in the constant battles on our northern border. Keeping the Vikings at bay consumed his rule for nearly a decade. After, the injuries from war kept him in the castle most of the time.
 “I do not mean to speak ill of King Phillip. By all accounts, he was a good man.” She added.
 “He was a great man and a great king.” I said, and she immediately started nodding her agreement.
 “He was, but the new king could do better if he tried. Think on it, the Viking war is over. Our boarders are safe. Our new king could use this time to better the lives of his subjects.” She said.
 Tossing my apple core to Banon who ate it loudly. “Do you intend to tell the new King this when you meet with him?”
 She looked down into her lap. “No.”
 Raising an eyebrow, “Why not? You’ll have his undivided attention.”
 She sighed. “Kings care not what women say.”
 “They don’t?” I questioned.
 She challenged me with her gaze, “Nobel men listen not to women. We are but commodities to them.”
 She was right. “Maybe noble men seldom encounter women with anything worthy to say. Maybe if we had the luxury of being introduced to interesting women, we’d be interested.”
 “Instead, they are surrounded by noble women who care only for sex and gossip.”
 I thought about trying to defend the nobles, but everything she said was true. I’d had the same thoughts many times. I attended all the events, but seldom stayed past dinner. Female courtiers vied for my attention. Male courtiers threw their daughters at me. I was seldom comfortable at events.
 “Consider our new King. He is being dressed up and trotted out in front of single women. How did you say it? Like Chattle?”
 “At least he gets to choose who he marries.” She argued.
 “The king is not as free to choose as you may think. He is surrounded by women who want only to wear the crown, but not to love.”
  She leaned back, resting her hands on the ground behind her and furrowed her brow, “Are you saying our new king doesn’t want to marry?”
 “Actually our king would love to marry. He has yet to find the right woman.”
 She looked at me now. “And what pray tell is the king looking for in a wife?”
 Inhaling deep, I thought, “Our king? He wants a bride who is kind and honest, pious and strong, one who can stand up to others and for others if she needs to. Our king wants a true queen, who can rule side by side with him. One the nobles will listen to. One who can help smooth out trade negotiations or peace pacts when needed. One who will help the king be the best ruler he can be.”
 I looked at her now. Our conversation was so fluid, so candid, so relaxed. I was certain I wouldn’t find this level of comfort with any of the maidens I was to meet this week. Lady Buckland was indeed kind and honest and pious and strong. But would she help me be the best ruler I can be? Her thoughts were not for herself, but for the subjects of my kingdom. I believe she would make an ideal queen.
 “And I suppose the King would like this perfect queen to be beautiful?” She challenged.
 I thought for a moment. The lady lounging before me was stunningly beautiful, but unlike the ladies at court, she didn’t need to be all made up to look beautiful. I remembered how she looked at her carriage yesterday, dirt on her face, hands covered with grease, a slight sweat built up as she tried to repair the carriage. She was glorious. “I think a woman like that would be beautiful, no matter what her appearance.” I answered.
 A loud whistle from Charles wailed through the air. As he rode toward us he said, “My Lord Suffex, we must attend the King now. He is to meet with prospective brides today. Those meetings start in 30 minutes.”
 Zounds! Time had flown by. I wanted to stay here all day, relaxing, chatting. Honestly, one could argue that the conversation we had alerted me to the daily trials and tribulations of my subjects and therefore, could make me a better king.
 “Lady Buckland,” I said as I stood. I held my hand out to help her up, but she refused it, standing on her own. “Would you like to break your fast with me tomorrow morning? Shall we meet here?”
 As much as she tried to hide it, I could tell she was smiling just a bit as she considered. “Yes.”
@mindofasagitarius   @lclb13 @serenityfiretrash @lustyromantic @reigns-5sos @bigpsychicbagelauthor @omg-im-such-a-masochist @marlananicole @wickedsunfire @snowpanda18 @thesamoanqueen​
pitlissa22
sparxx27
26 notes · View notes
suckerforlovesblog · 5 months
Text
The traitor’s son
After killing a couple for betraying the Peaky Blinders, Grace insisted on taking in their newborn child and raising it as her own. Thomas couldn’t bring himself to get close and warm up towards the little boy because he only sees the new generation of traitors.
At some point Thomas feelings change towards the boy…
Warning: weapons, smoking, alcohol, murder, body fluids, atrocities, hate, child neglect, strict upraising, just Thomas being unforgiving
Word count: 3.5k
This was requested by @historical-epic Thank you so much for this idea. I loved writing it!
(Also I am very sorry this took me so long but I had a lot going on with work and university, as well as finals and starting my Bachelor’s paper.)
Tumblr media
~ May of 1925 ~
The men of the Shelby company were gathering in the garrison, ready to hear whatever Thomas had to say. He was sitting at a table in the middle of the room, a bottle of whiskey - Irish, on the table next to a glass, his pair of black leather gloves and his gun. Still wearing his long black overcoat he had only opened the front of it to expose his vest and the neat white dress shirt he was wearing underneath. Over the back of the chair hangs a machine pistol and his iconic hat.
Even though it was May, the Garrison pub was cold and dark. The silence in the room was excruciating. Thomas downed another shot and looked up only when Arthur, John and Esme sat down across the table. Behind him stood Michael, Jeremiah, his son and Johnny Dogs. Uncle Charles had taken a seat next to Polly who entered together with Michael. Curly stood close to Charles.
Taking another drag from the cigarette hanging from his mouth, Tommy inhaled: “Ay, thank you for meeting me. There’s a matter of business at hand, that ought to be discussed and executed.” Arthur took a breath, ready to intervene but Thomas only shot him a bad look and so Arthur just sat up straighter in his chair. “This matter is very important and very urgent as well. As all of you remember that we came to an agreement with the Russo family: We ship their goods out of the harbors and they let us know whenever the Mafia plans something. They broke the end of the agreement last night, not lettings us know that the Changrettas are up to something. Mr. Solomon’s informed me about the Changretta’s business interest in horse racing and soccer this morning.” John cleared his throat and Esme put a hand on his shoulder, Michael just looked unbothered and light another cigarette. Thomas looked into the faces of each of his family members and nodded. Polly now took the word from him: “Whatever they did doesn’t really matter. We can only be happy that Thomas was cautious enough to not trust the Russo’s blindly because otherwise we would have lost a lot of money today.” She brushed a hair out of her face, picking up her cigarette cases and lighting the cigarette. Polly took a deep breath, feeling all the pairs of eyes resting on her: “Concluding this meeting: The Russo’s are traitors and all of you know what that means. Thomas will fill you in on the details.” She blew out the smoke, giving the word back to Thomas who still sat in the center of the room. He licked his lips and then looked towards his family. “We will strike tonight. Quick, fast and dirty. In and out and gone in under 20 minutes. The coppers know to look away so everything will be done quickly.”, he nodded looking at the determined faces in the room. “Aye, Johnny Dogs, I need a truck and ten of your best men to go with Arthur and Michael. John, Jeremiah and I will go another way.” “Yes, Tommy.”, Johnny Dogs answered and they kept discussing the plan.
Afterwards the men cheer to their plan with a shot of Whiskey.
Thomas made his way to Arrow House afterwards, where he was greeted by his house keeper Francis. “Where’s my wife?”, he asked handing her his long coat.
“Upstairs, with the baby and the new maid.”, she said and curtsied. He took another cigarette out of his pocket, rubbing it between his lips and the settling for the left side. With the cigarette hanging out of his mouth, he made his way upstairs and light it whilst making his way towards newborns room. “Hello, Grace, my lovely wife.”, he said upon entering the room and blew out a puff of smoke. The blonde woman turned around, smiling at him: “Hello, Tommy.” She crossed the room with quick strides and hugged him, whilst he pressed a kiss on top of her head. The married couple then left the young maid, she look not older than sixteen, a pretty girl with brown curly hair, with their son and made their way to his study.
Grace sat down on the sofa, Tommy behind her, pulling her close to him. He took her hand in his own and caressed it with his thumb. She just smiled and listened to his heart beat. “Aye, Grace”, he said gently after a while. “Hm”, the blonde responded, her head leaning against his broad chest. “I will be gone tonight to punish the Russo’s for their betrayal, don’t wait for me and kiss Charles good night, will ya?”, Thomas’ voice rumbled. “What are you going to do, Tommy?”, she mumbled.
“Grace, honey, you know there is only one punishment for treason. It’s death.”, he said with a firm voice, knowing she won’t try to discuss it with him. “Is it really necessary to kill all of them?”, she asked, turning to look at him. Thomas looked at her, his features softened and he knew he did it for her too, and nodded. “I don’t want you to kill children Thomas! I did not marry a murderer, you know!”, she argued. “What children are you talking about?”, he responded. “The Russo’s just welcomed a little boy in their life. He was born about five months ago, seven at most. You cannot murder an innocent child, Thomas”, her voice was stern. “Aye, you know that treason is in the blood?”, he asked, pulling her closer to him.
Grace shifted in his lap and turned so she could look into his deep blue eyes. Her hands reached for his face, holding his cheeks in between her little hands, Thomas felt the cold of their wedding band on his left cheek bone: “I beg you. Show some mercy and give the little boy a chance. I won’t be able to stop you from punishing them but the little boy did nothing. He did not commit treason against you. Let us raise him as our own. Show the people of Birmingham that you’re strict but also have a heart and you will win theirs. I promise you. Please. If the boy ever does anything to put dirt on the name “Shelby” you can do as you wish, but please Tommy, please, do it for me.” Thomas breathed in through his nose, snorting. He then looked at her with an intense and simply nodded. Grace knew she had won, managing to spare the little boy’s life.
He then kissed his wife goodbye, stood up and got dressed to finally leave and meet up with the rest of Peaky Blinders at the Garrison.
“Everyone’s ready?”, he said upon entering. He was met with silent nods and stern faces. “There is a change of plans. The little boys life will be spared.”
“You know what a traitor is, right Tommy?”, Arthur said coming his way. “I do”, replied the man with the ice blue eyes, “but I also can’t say no to my wife. End of , aye.”
The men gathered their guns and made their way towards the Russo’s farm house.
Upon arrival the group split up according to plan. Michael led the men to round up the house, whilst Tommy, Jeremiah and John made their way towards the door. He opened without knocking, intruding the Russo’s living space, shortly followed by Arthur and Michael as well. “Though you needed backup”, Arthur said, putting his hand on his younger brothers shoulder.
No voice was heard in the silent room until Thomas took out his gun, shooting at the ceiling twice. He then was met with the screams of a women. The Peaky Blinders made their way upstairs, following the cries and sobs. Thomas opened the door towards what seemed to be the Russo’s bedroom, pointing his gun inside. After he made sure the entry was safe, he did enter swiftly, followed closely by his men. “Aye, hush, don’t cry.”, Arthur said jokingly, whilst Thomas took out his cigarette case, snatching one to rub it between his lips, finally settling for the left side. Whilst striking a match and enlightening the cigarette, he looked around the room taking in his surroundings: From the crib standing close to the window, the crying women that held her bleeding but already dead husband in her arms, blood all over her pretty face. “You are a pretty one.”, John said, making his way to the women: “What a shame that you’re a filthy traitor. You could have been a pretty wife or ever better a good whore.” He tried to push her hair out of her face but she hit his hand and insulted him in Italian.
“I’ve had enough of this, aye.”, Thomas finally said, making his way over to John. He took the women’s face in between his hands. In comparison to Grace lovely gesture who did the same thing not even more than two hours ago, this was a power move. He held her face thightly, his fingers digging into her face, forcing her to look at him with her green eyes: “You listen now, whore.” The women only swallowed, stopping the fight, knowing she’d lost. Jeremiah made his way over to the man lying in bed next to her, examining him, stating “He’s dead.”
Thomas just nodded: “I thought we taught you better than to betray the Peaky Blinders, didn’t we?” He slapped her face once, not hard to hurt her but in a way to make her feel who’s in power and that was Thomas Shelby himself. “Now, we need to decide what to do with you. My brother is right, you are very pretty and still young. Killing you would be a waste. But you still being able to talk will set you up to betrayal once again…” His thoughts trailed of until Arthur cut them short: “How about we keep her employed for the various business opportunities: She would be a fine maid, a very pretty whore or a nice servant. We only need to be sure that she can’t run her mouth again…” John only eyed Thomas who still looked at the woman sitting at his feet, completely at his mercy. He thought about what Arthur was approaching and then simply nodded, letting go of the pretty dark haired woman, making his way to the crib. “She is yours for the night, do whatever you please. She is at your mercy but remember to punish her for her sins and then give her a job in your house, John. She will be your maid for the start. This baby however will be mine, Grace wants it.” He turned, the boy in his arms, sleeping soundly. Miss Russo, who endured the whole situation silent after she stopped crying, now understood what was about to happen and started screaming and trying to stand up. “Shut up!”, Arthur bellowed at her, hitting her in the face, afterwards pushing her into the bed, next to her dead husband.
Thomas turned and made his way towards the door and down the stairs of the farm house. He knew exactly what was going to happen to the treacherous woman but he didn’t want to think about in any further, so he ignored her screams and sobs as he made his way towards his car.
After arriving at Arrow House again, the little boy still sleeping soundly in his arms, he made his way to the bedroom he shared with his wife, waking her. “Thomas?”, she asked sleepily. “Hm”, he answered, “I got the baby for you. I just want to let you know that I am still not happy with the thought, ay. But if that is what you want and what makes you happy, I can oblige.” Grace then set up, rubbing the sleep from her beautiful eyes and took the boy from Tommy’s s, pressing him to her chest. “Now I don’t want anything to do with the child. I will support him with everything he needs but you will care for him as I don’t want a traitors kin near me. It’s bad luck, Grace”, the man said, leaving the room to wash the blood from his hands, undressing to come back to an empty bed…
~ Eight years later, in the spring of 1933 ~
The Shelby Company Limited expanded over the last years, working with the Russians, giving them access to weapons, sneaking alcohol disguised as car parts into the United States and then Thomas made his way into politics taking a stand against National-socialism.
Grace and him still lived at Arrow House, much more comfortable and luxurious now, together with their children Charles and their daughter Marylin. Charles had grown up to be a young men, doing well in school and learning how to shoot. Marylin, the small girl with auburn locks and ice blue eyes, would turn six this summer, marking the year where she was going to enter primary school, which she was most excited about. Thomas entered through the front door, taking off his coat in the entry hall, looking at the family portrait on the wall opposite to him. Grace was sitting in an armchair, smiling and looking as beautiful as ever. Thomas stood next to hear, a cigarette dangling from his lips. To his right stood Charles, tall and proud with his dark hair and fine features. Little Marylin was sitting on her mothers lap, smiling a teeth-less grin. He smiled when he looked at Grace, his beautiful wife, then at Charles and Marylin. Seeing his children filled him with pride.
Then he looked at the other boy, standing to Grace’s other side and his smile faded. Alessio, now 8 years old was very tall and athletic. He had black hair and dark brown eyes, looking nothing like him or his wife, a constant reminder of the treason his parents committed and that nearly cost his brother John his life. Thomas still held a grudge against the young boy, even though Alessio was a very well behaved boy, always polite, smart and courteous. He tried to be nice to the boy due to Grace’s sake but Thomas simply couldn’t warm up to the boy.
Alessio on the other hand wanted nothing more than Thomas’ appreciation, who he though to be his farther. He did his best in school, learning French and Russian, playing in the school soccer and chess team, as well as taking piano lessons, nothing he did seemed to make his farther happy. The young boy was Charles best friend and got along very well with Marylin, playing patiently with her when she was younger. He also got along very well with Arthur’s, John’s, Michael’s and Ada’s children because Grace raised him to be a very fine young boy. Alessio was beloved by Polly and often helped her out in the Shelby’s establishment or running errands for her.
Thomas knew of all of this but still couldn’t spare a thing for the boy and he was very bad at hiding his emotions, which made Alessio very sad and nearly depressed.
After Thomas took his eyes of the portrait, he roamed around the house, to find Grace and Ada sitting on the patio behind the house. “Hello Ladies.”, he greeted them, taking a cigarette between his lips, smiling at Grace and kissing her hand, as soon as he lit it. He looked towards the pond, seeing his children, Alessio, Michale’s and Ada’s children running around. Michael and his wife were out riding in the countryside, happy to have left their children, a set of twin girls and two boys, at Thomas’ place. “That’s a whole lot of children, ay”, he stated laughing and looked to spot his little girl getting dangerously close towards the end of the landing stage. The second he turned to pour himself a glass of whiskey, he heard Grace scream and Ada got up, running towards the pond. “Tommy, Marylin just fell into the pond. She can’t swim.”, Grace said, beginning to cry. Thomas didn’t hear the whole sentence and turned in his tracks to start sprinting, the second he heard his little girls name. Whilst running he saw the little girl struggle to come up for air. Some of the children didn’t even notice what happened because they were all caught up in their games but someone jumped into the water, swimming towards the little girl. “It better not be Alessio. He will take any chance to murder my sweet sweet girl”, Tommy spat out through gritted teeth, not loud enough for anyone to hear. His lungs ached and the cigarette fell from his lips when he started running even faster, he also felt a tear fall from his eyes. Thomas reached the landing stage shortly after, falling to his knees at the end of it, nearly falling into the water. He couldn’t make out his sweet little girl or whomever jumped into the lake to save her. All he could see looking around were some air bubble and Charles nearly falling into the lake as well because he wanted to sit down, next to his farther, crying as well. Thomas caught his sons arm and Charles crashed into him, wheezing: “It is my fault, papa. Marylin wanted to show me something and I didn’t listen to her.” Pulling the boy closer, the man wrapped his arms around the little boy: “It’s not your fault, ay. I got boy.” Charles pressed his face against his farther clothed chest, crying, while Thomas’ still looked out onto the pond, seeing two heads come out of the water.
He got up abruptly, nearly knocking Charles into the pond as well, as he saw Marylin’s head emerge from the water, shortly after being followed by Alessio. His daughter gasped for air and he pulled her onto the wooden platform as soon as possible, laying her head into his lap, ignoring the boy who just saved the girl. Alessio climbed onto the wood as well, struggling to get onto it but Charles helped him immediately, wrapping his arms around the boy and muttering “Thanks you’s” over and over again. As soon as Grace made her way to her family, she took the wet boy into her arms as well, praising him. Thomas then looked up from the little girl towards his wife and the boys - his family and felt proud of Alessio, his son. Ada and the maid came towards the pond with towels for the children, bringing them inside. “Francis, please prepare a warm tub for my children, as well as hot tea and some sweet treats. They need to get warmed up so they don’t get sick.”, he addressed his wife and maid. Looking at Ada, he said: “Let’s get the other children rounded up and inside to the play room. I don’t want them outside with all of us inside and no one watching them. This was scary enough already.”
He then knelt down, looking at Alessio, pulling him into his arm. The boy stiffened up but then embraced Thomas’ hug. “Thank you boy”, he whispered into his ears, “I was completely wrong about you and am very sorry for my behavior. I am more than proud to call you my son, my kin.” Alessio smiled and then stood up together with his farther, making their way upstairs towards his bedroom.
Shortly after Grace then found her husband in the entry way, looking at the family portrait. She just stood next to him silently, watching. Thomas’ eyes went from the portrait towards the pictures of his children, his eyes resting on Alessio’s. “I was wrong about him all along, honey.”, he said quietly, pulling her to his side: “He was never a traitor only because of his parents decisions. I fell very bad for how I have treated him all the time.”
Grace turned, facing him: “Tommy.” He looked at her, absorbing her beautiful face. Her sweet voice said: “You have been a great farther to Alessio. He had the same things as his siblings, you attend all of his school play’s and chess games supporting him. You taught him how to ride, to shoot, to swim. The only thing you haven’t done before today, was to call him your son but deep in your heart, he was always your child.” Thomas then kissed her: “I am so thankful for you and the family we have. And I am beyond proud of all my children but today Alessio proved his braveness and will.”
Upstairs unbeknownst to his parents, Alessio reached the top of the stair case, hearing Thomas’, his farther’s, words, not knowing the back story but having always felt the distance between them, smiled and then went back to the play room to have his afternoon snack and play with his siblings and cousins’…
11 notes · View notes
blackrose-ffxiv · 9 months
Text
1. Envoy
Fifteen turns was a terrible age. The age were the comfort of private lessons taken in the solitude of one's own home were being exchanged for 'real world' experiences. Squiring to an accomplished knight, apprenticing to a master craftsman or, in the case of Lennaux, enrolling in seminary. A terrible age to be cooped up with equally terrible children learning how to behave as adults in a terrible place. Studying theologies and the history of a war that had spanned for generations. Every student at the Scholasticate's fathers, grandfathers, great-grandfathers and so on had served that war effort in some way or another. When death and destruction were constant companions at birth, it was never a matter of 'if' bad news would happen but rather 'when'.
The somber envoys were a familiar sight for those attending classes within the Scholasticate's hallowed halls. While the lesser-born nobility may receive a single courier, those even less important often received only a letter, the solemn approach of a dark-clad entourage was the sign that someone of some import had died. No sooner did they enter the grand entryway did the rumors begin to fly. This time their somber march took them to the courtyard where Lennaux was, appropriately enough, holding court over the small group of fellow future-clergy he had bullied into serving as his associates. Never 'friends'. A pleasantly warm late spring drizzle had forced them to take refuge under an alcove as idle chatter of summer holidays whiled away time between classes. Talk of the warm moons spent out at the country estate or some relative's hunting lodge in the mountains. The chatter faded away as the envoy of three entered the courtyard under heavy cloaks against the light rain. One stopped to wait in the arching doorway as the other two made their way towards the small group. A few quick calculations of which of their merry little band could have warranted such a visit resulted in the realization that they were there for him.
"My father or my brother. Place your wagers quickly." Lennaux muttered under his breath.
"Brother." The others answered in near-unison, having already heard tales of their 'ringleader's' foolhardy elder sibling.
"Well, that certainly takes the fun out of it if no one will bet against me. Very well." He complained quietly, falling silent as the knights approached and immediately knelt respectfully. "A mourning period is certainly going to put a damper on my summer plans..."
"Young Master Lennaux de Haillenarte, we have been sent to bring you home on an urgent matter." The first knight explained as she rose back to her feet. The second knight offered a sympathetic smile from under the hood of his cloak. Neither would be so crass as to simply state that there had been a death. Nor to announce outright who it may have been. It could yet have been a cousin or uncle for all he knew.
Lennaux nodded solemnly, adjusting the lay of his hat before he stepped out from under the alcove into the rain. The third knight did not move as they approached, allowing the first two to pass before he stepped out to block Lennaux's departure. The student looked up slowly, icy pale eyes rimmed with dark lashes settling on a face he did not recognize at first. His father's strong chin and thick brows paired with his mother's summer sky blue eyes. A man grown now, though he had been only the very same age Lennaux was now when he had last seen him this close. Those bright blue eyes were not red from grief and his jaw was set in a grim line. That answered the question neatly. Terrible news for a terrible boy who would now even more quickly have to grow up into a terrible man. His father was finally dead.
"Lennaux, I-" Anselme began, yet he was never allowed to finish the sentence. The younger brother threw his shoulder forwards into the knight's chest as he pushed past him. Long strides carrying him to catch up with the other two messengers without a word. Anselme stepped aside with the blow, allowing Lennaux to pass unimpeded. He watched him stalk away rather than following immediately. The shoulder-check had not hurt in the least. Truly it would not have even moved him out of the way. It had been the pure, glacial hatred in his younger brother's eyes for the brief moment their gazes met that pained him far more deeply.
@iron-roots
FFXIV Write 2023
15 notes · View notes
unseededtoast · 9 months
Text
Rectify | Bucky Barnes
Tumblr media
Part 3/37 | Part Two & Part Four
Summary: I've lived every day for the past five years looking over my shoulder. I knew they'd come for me, it was inevitable. I was foolish to think I could outrun my past. It's followed me everywhere I go, lurking in the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Never would I have anticipated that the shadows would lead me to the light.
Bucky Barnes x OC
Series Warnings: Discussion of human trafficking, alcohol consumption, graphic depictions of violence, sexual content, discussion of suicidal thoughts.
a/n: Hi everyone, thank you for checking this out, I appreciate any and all support! This series is also posted on Ao3 and Wattpad if you prefer those formats/platforms! This is a completed series, and it's going to take some time for me to transfer it to Tumblr, so please bear with me!
"A few weeks ago we came into contact with one of Hydra's weapons...We found ourselves in possession of this weapon but we are unable to decode whatever it is Hydra installed."
The chains clink against the metal fixture on the desk as the handcuffs are released from my wrists. I rub them, feeling the small indents they left on my skin and stay seated though I am free from restraints. I watch Director Fury closely, knowing I'm not entirely free and am still under his command.
"I'll be right back, don't leave this room." He instructs and I remain seated, not willing to move and jeopardize the new start I have been granted. A few moments pass and he brings in a bowl of water and some plain white cloth.
"You need to wash up before you leave this room, there's no time to waste for your assignment." I grab the cloth and wet it with some of the water, cleaning off my face and hands of the dead man's blood. The water turns a dark reddish brown as I continue to wet the cloth after wiping off the blood. I wonder what can be so urgent that they're going to assign me to something only moments after I pledged loyalty. I find it very peculiar that they're giving me an assignment instead of placing me under observation for a while. For all they know I could be lying about everything, something seems off. But, I can't question it or I'll look even more suspicious.
As I finish cleaning myself up, Director Fury beckons me to follow him out of the room. I stand and follow the man,
"I want you to meet some people. They're working on a project dealing with memories. Perhaps you can enlighten them and speed the process up given your background. It would be most beneficial that our scientists understand this as much as you do. It's a time sensitive matter. But make no mistake you will be watched, and if you try anything we will handle it." He explains in an authoritative voice as he leads me through hallways. What can be so time sensitive about my work? I ponder the question and feel uneasy about what the answer may be but remain optimistic.
The Director opens a glass door, where there are two people working. I recognize one of them as an Avenger. The lab is full of top of the line equipment and the most advanced technology I've ever seen. My palms begin to sweat as memories flash through my mind, the same scenario, different years. But I know this time it's different, it has to be. There's just no way I pledged myself to repeat the same mistake all over again.
"Bruce, this is Adalyn Averina, and she's been so kind as to provide her expertise on the project." I'm grateful that Director Fury opted to leave out the grittier, less pretty details for my sake. I nod to Bruce, who I know is also the Hulk from numerous tv broadcasts I've seen over the years. I'm introduced to the other scientist as well, she's a grad student at a local university here on an internship. The Director leaves the lab wordlessly, leaving me without any specific tasking. I feel lost and very much out of place. Everything seems to be happening at a very rapid pace, and it's not only disorienting but peculiar as well. I rub my arm anxiously and look to Bruce for any sort of direction.
"Yeah, as Fury said I'm Bruce, it's nice to meet you Adalyn, welcome to the team." He warmly smiles, eroding away some of the nerves. I smile back and approach him at the table he's working at. I see he has microscope slides laid out on a table, and I try to decipher what they are.
"It's nice to meet you as well, I assume we're lab partners then?" My eyes break away from the slides and up to his, they glimmer with humor.
"Yeah, I guess you can say we're lab partners. Oh, these are all brain matter, the subject suffered from severe Alzheimer's. Tony's been on a kick about retrieving memories, some childhood trauma thing I think. It just so happened that the project aligned with Tony's interests." Bruce rambles on and I nod, following what he's saying though I don't even know what the project is specifically about, or what the goals are.
"Well, I don't mean to interrupt your own research, it's just that I've already conducted these studies. I still have more to do, but I've got this much down." I say, hoping he doesn't take offense. His eyebrows raise in surprise.
"Really? That's remarkable. Do you have anything published? I swear I've looked everywhere for this information." I shake my head at his question.
"No, nothing is published publicly, but I do have a substantial amount of experience under my belt. I can explain it all to you, if you want of course. I'm not trying to stop you from doing your own research." I say, becoming more comfortable in his presence.
"By all means, please. I'm all ears." He sits down on a stool and I nod.
I explain the very basics to him, the parts of the brain and their functions, and how diseases such as Alzheimer's wear away at the brain matter. I briefly explain that with electrical stimulation, some of the parts of the brain can be programmed, in a way, and that this method can be used for several different uses. I explain that memory retrieval is very difficult and usually has to be handled on a case-to-case basis; treatment has to be tailored to the individual's experience, it's not a cookie cutter situation. I spare the details of what my experience is, and thankfully he doesn't ask. Hopefully he assumes my experiments were conducted on lab rats. He sits in silence after I finish my spiel, he rubs his chin as he thinks it all over.
"I think you might be the answer Tony's been looking for. I don't know where he is right now, but when he gets back you'll have to fill him in. You've got some good stuff, how old are you by the way? You seem a little young to be this educated."
"I'm 24." I answer and he nods.
"Well, that's very impressive and I'm glad we've got you alongside us now." I smile appreciatively and look to the noise coming from behind me. I see a short girl dressed in the standard Shield uniform.
"I was sent to get you." She speaks to me and I nod, following her. She leads me to another part of the building and up to the third floor.
"I'm showing you to your room where you will be staying for the duration of your time here." I stay silent and follow her down the hall. The hall only has six doors in total, I'm guessing some other employees live here. She stops at the third door on the right and nods to me,
"This is your room, and I've been told someone will come retrieve you momentarily." She says and walks off, leaving me alone. Shield sure does trust new recruits a lot to keep leaving me alone. I don't know if I would be as trusting of someone with my background. But perhaps I'm under surveillance, and they're observing what I do. That would be the smart thing to do.
I watch her walk out of the hall and then turn the door's handle. The room inside is bare. There's a single bed in the middle with a nightstand on one side, a lamp beside the door, a dresser against the wall opposite of the bed with a mirror hanging above it. I walk inside and shut the door behind me, familiarizing myself. I see an attached bathroom, noting that it also is small and basic. I stare at the bed longingly, this has been the most exhausting day I've had in a long time. I sit on the bed and stretch, soaking in the little peace I've had all day.
Though I should feel anxious after everything that's happened, I know I'm in the safest place I could possibly be. I'm too tired to worry about anything, the anxiety will have to wait until the morning. I close my eyes and breathe in the cool, crisp air of the room.
Although my bed at home was far more comfortable, this one offers a sense of security that my old one could've never provided. And though it's less than ideal to be working for another organization, it sure beats being on the run for the rest of my life. I'm just nervous to see what the project is about, and why they're looking for someone with my skill set. A sudden knock on the door startles me from my momentary peace and I jump up to answer the door.
"Miss Averina, I hope you're finding the accommodations to be up to your standard?" Director Fury questions and I nod,
"Of course, sir. Thank you." I pay my gratitude and he starts walking down the hall.
I shut the door behind me and follow him. People stare as we walk by and I wish I could vanish. They could know absolutely nothing about me, or they could know everything, there's no way for me to tell. Ignoring the stares is easier said than done, but I focus on the back of Fury's bald head, hoping the light reflecting off of it is enough of a distraction.
"Time to meet your new team." Fury says, opening a door.
We step in and I see four people sitting around a table. I recognize them all. I feel uneasiness creep into me but I try to ignore it. I rub my palms together as I look at each of the people at the table. Luckily, I've already met one of them.
Bruce sends a warm smile my way and I return it to the best of my ability, the others watching my every move. I take a seat next to Fury and wait for anyone else to say something, I cannot stand the tense silence in the room. From the status of the people in this room I'm concerned about what the project could be, it's obviously not something small if four Avengers are involved.
"So, it seems that we're in God's good graces as he's sent us someone who I believe can crack the code." Fury begins speaking, all eyes lingering on him except mine. I continue to look at the people in the room, knowing they could all single handedly kill me in a split second if they so desired.
"Bruce has already met the newest member of the team, but I'll let her speak for herself." Fury turns the attention to me and I nod shortly. I wasn't expecting to be put on the spot. I lick my lips and wipe the palms of my hands on my thighs.
"I am Adalyn Averina and I am a professor specializing in brain anatomy and physiology, with a focus in memory functions. I have an extensive background in this field and I am happy to help in whatever way I can." I keep my introduction short and sweet, not giving up too much information.
"Sorry, but with all due respect you don't look a day over 20. Bruce and I have been working on this for weeks now and haven't been able to figure it out but you just so happen to understand everything?" The man sits forward in his seat, looking intensely at me. This must be the Tony Stark charm I've heard rumors of. I nod my head, hoping to calm the rising tension.
"Yes, like I said I have extensive experience and research into this topic, I've been involved in it since I was a little girl." I see him internally trying to piece things together.
"Okay hold on. So you're like a child prodigy or something? And you have a Russian accent, I hear it. Fury where did you find her? You're sure she's not another spy?" Tony seems paranoid, and I can't blame him because I too find this situation unconventional.
"It is highly unlikely that she's a spy, Stark." Fury defends my credibility. Tony stays quiet but stares.
"She was in the lab earlier with me Tony, she knows her stuff." Bruce also sticks up for me. It's weird having Fury and Bruce defend me though I've known them both less than two hours. The blonde haired man sits up straighter in his seat and makes eye contact with me.
"I know Bruce and Tony have a scientific interest in your work, but it's a little more personal to me. If you can help us, I will be very grateful." I give him a small smile. I like him, he seems just as he appears on the television. He is the personification of honor.
"I will do my very best to help. I am unsure of what the tasking is, I'm still in the dark about that." I admit, looking between all the people at the table. The one redhead has been quiet the entire time, though she's been studying me with slightly squinted eyes. I hear Fury sigh and I look to him,
"A few weeks ago we came into contact with one of Hydra's weapons. The timing could not have been a coincidence, we've found a few Hydra spies in the past few weeks but we've eradicated them. We found ourselves in possession of this weapon but we are unable to decode whatever it is Hydra installed." I scrunch my eyebrows, concentrating on what he's saying. It doesn't make sense, I'm not a weapons expert.
As if I had run into a brick wall, it feels like the breath has been knocked out of me and my eyes widen a bit, there's no way they could possibly be talking about my Hydra mission, though it would all make sense. I suppress my anxiety and focus on the matter at hand. Fury turns in his chair and plays a video on a hologram.
I watch the scene unfold. Steve is fighting with a man on a highway that's been blown to hell. My stomach drops and I feel like I'm going to pass out. There's no way. My eyes are intensely glued to the video, and I watch as knives get twirled and punches are thrown. I watch as the metal clashes on metal, and I tear my eyes away from the fight being displayed. I stare at the table, trying to not hyperventilate. I hear the video pause and the room is eerily silent.
"Fury she looks like she's going to pass out." Bruce points out and I continue staring at the table.
"Do you know him?" The nice blonde man from earlier, Steve Rogers, asks. I meet his blue eyes and see the desperation in them. I nod my head, gripping the sides of my seat.
"The Winter Soldier. He was my mission." I manage to say without throwing up all over the table. This has to be some sort of nightmare I'm trapped in, there's no way this is reality. The rest of the table silently looks at one another in shock.
"Your mission?" Steve asks, leaning on the table, getting closer to me. I sense both curiosity and hostility.
"I worked for Hydra since the day I was born, my father was a man of Hydra notoriety. I was indoctrinated and trained. I had a special talent for understanding how people work, how the mind works. It was my job to improve what Arnim Zola created during World War Two. I didn't want to do it, but I didn't have a choice. I programmed their most efficient and deadly weapon and ruined a man at the same time." I admit. Steve stares at me with a blank expression, and I quickly meet his gaze with one of sympathy and regret.
The rest of the members take this information in and process it. There's no easy way to explain what I did, it's more of a "rip the band-aid off" situation and mend relationships from there. I feel shame and guilt wash over my body as I recall my earlier days working for Hydra. I remember every second of what I did, the pain I inflicted and the lives I've ruined.
7 notes · View notes
mischiefmodig · 2 months
Note
"Stay 30 feet away from me!"
Tumblr media
❝ Make me~ ❞
2 notes · View notes
ecoamerica · 2 months
Text
youtube
Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared
The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!
17K notes · View notes
wordsofrowan · 10 months
Text
The Shadow Court
Chapter 3 - A Shadow of a Doubt
Tumblr media
Adrien's room felt like a pressure cooker, his frustration boiling over with each passing second. He angrily threw his bag across the room, not caring where it landed, a physical manifestation of his mounting jealousy and hurt.
"Ow!" Plagg exclaimed, materializing out of the bag. "What's gotten into you, kid?"
Adrien scowled, his voice dripping with bitterness. "I don't know, Plagg. I just can't wrap my head around it. Marinette is changing, and it feels like she's purposely pushing everyone away, including me. And now, I see her smiling and laughing with some unknown driver. It's like she's forgotten all about us, all about me."
He sighed heavily, sinking onto his bed as a mix of jealousy and hurt clouded his thoughts. The image of Marinette's smile with someone else gnawed at his heart, fueling his irrational emotions.
Adrien sat there, consumed by his own insecurities, his mind racing with doubts and uncertainties. The need to confront Marinette burned within him, an urgent desire to understand the reasons behind her actions.
Restlessness coursed through his veins, compelling Adrien to rise from his bed and pace back and forth in his room. Plagg observed him with a mixture of curiosity and concern, aware of the tumultuous storm brewing within his holder.
"I have to talk to her," Adrien muttered, his voice tinged with determination laced with a hint of possessiveness. "I can't let this go on any longer. I need to know what's going on, no matter how difficult the truth may be."
Plagg floated closer, his expression somber. "Just be careful, Adrien. Remember, jumping to conclusions and letting jealousy guide your actions won't help. Approach her with an open mind, listen to her side of the story, and try to understand her perspective."
Adrien's eyes glinted with resolve as he called upon his transformation. "Plagg, Claws Out!" In a flash of black, he transformed into Chat Noir, his heart heavy with emotions he couldn't ignore. Determined to confront Marinette and find the answers he sought, he set off toward her house, hoping that the conversation ahead would offer clarity and bring them closer or expose the cracks in their bond.
Chat Noir arrived at Marinette’s house, his heart pounding with a mix of anticipation, anxiety, and jealousy. He stood outside on the familiar balcony that he had stood on many times, hesitating for a moment before mustering the courage to knock. Memories of moments shared between him and his princess had him clenching his fist tightly, his mind consumed by possessive thoughts. The sound of his knock reverberated through the quiet street, but there was no response. Chat Noir grew increasingly impatient, his desire to talk to Marinette, to figure out why she was changing overpowering any respect for her boundaries. He decided to take matters into his own hands and see if the door was unlocked, not caring about invading her privacy. 
To his delight, the door was unlocked, granting him access to Marinette's personal space. He scanned the room, his heart aching as he noticed some of the subtle differences in her room. To anyone else, the difference may have been small, but to him, it hit like a boulder. He noticed the absence of pictures featuring him and their classmates, causing a surge of anger and jealousy coursed through his veins. How dare she remove the evidence of their connection? It only fueled his determination to reclaim his place in her life, no matter the cost.
Chat Noir decided to sit on her bed and wait for the girl to arrive, he needed to speak to her and he would not wait to see her another day. Hours passed as he waited, the rain continuing to pour outside, serving as a backdrop to his introspective thoughts.
Just as Chat Noir felt his eyelids drooping, a burst of light flooded the room, alerting him to Marinette's presence. He sat up abruptly, his gaze locked on her as she entered, her hair wrapped in a towel and her clothes drenched from the rain. The sight of her disheveled appearance stirred a mix of conflicting emotions within him.
"Marinette," he said, his voice filled with a possessive edge that he couldn't suppress. "Why did you keep me waiting? I needed to talk to you. Where have you been?" His words were tinged with a demanding tone as if he believed she owed him an explanation for her actions.
Marinette's expression shifted from surprise to a mixture of concern and discomfort. She took a step back, a subtle hint of unease in her eyes. "Chat Noir, what are you doing in my room? How did you even get in?"
Ignoring her questions, Chat Noir stood up and closed the distance between them, his presence overwhelming. "Why did you remove the pictures, Marinette? The ones that showed your friends and Adrien? Are you trying to push your friends away?" His voice dripped with accusation, his jealousy and possessiveness fueling his words.
Marinette's eyes blazed with defiance as she crossed her arms over her chest, meeting Chat Noir's gaze head-on. "Oh, please. I have every right to cut them out of my life after everything they've done to me! I refuse to let people walk all over me and dictate my happiness."
Chat Noir's anger surged, his possessiveness pushing him further into a state of agitation. "But they're your friends, Marinette! They care about you. And what about Adrien? Are you pushing him away too?"
A flicker of hurt passed through Marinette's eyes, her voice laced with disappointment and frustration. "They're the ones who pushed me away! They have done nothing but bully and harass me over some lying manipulative person. I will not stand by and continue to let this happen. I've found people who actually care about me. I thought you did too, but it seems you're just like them."
"I'm just trying to look out for you, Marinette, so you don't make a mistake and ruin your life," Chat Noir said, his voice tinged with a patronizing tone as he stood towering over Marinette. "Someone has gotten into your head, filling it with all these crazy ideas. Just apologize to Lila, apologize to the class, and you can go back to being the Marinette we all know and love."
Marinette's eyes narrowed, her anger boiling beneath the surface. She stood her ground, refusing to back down. "Chat Noir, you're not seeing the bigger picture here. This is about standing up for myself, about refusing to tolerate mistreatment. I won't apologize for defending the truth and setting boundaries."
Chat Noir's frustration grew, his voice sharp with disbelief. "But Marinette, you're pushing everyone away. You're isolating yourself. Can't you see how much you're changing?"
A flicker of hurt passed through Marinette's eyes, her voice steady but filled with determination. "I am changing, Chat Noir. I'm growing, learning, and becoming stronger. I won't allow anyone to manipulate or control me anymore. If that means making tough decisions and losing people along the way, then so be it. I refuse to compromise my self-worth."
"Whatever," Chat Noir retorted, his voice tinged with bitterness and disappointment. "If you're just going to push everyone away and ruin yourself, then I won't stay here and watch."
Marinette's gaze hardened, her resolve strengthening as she met his eyes. She stood tall, no longer reliant on his validation or support. She had found her own strength within, and she didn't need Chat Noir to define her worth.
"Fine," Marinette replied, her voice steady. "I don't need you to understand or approve of my choices. I'm taking control of my life, even if it means standing alone."
Chat Noir's surprise was evident as he glanced back at her, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. He realized that the Marinette before him was no longer the same girl who had once sought his approval and validation. She had evolved into a spiteful vindictive woman, who was willing to just destroy her own life.
Without another word, Chat Noir turned and left, his departure no longer holding any power over Marinette. She stood there, watching him disappear into the night, a mixture of sadness and relief washing over her.
XoXo Rowan
11 notes · View notes
dakotakazansky · 1 year
Text
Written in the Stars • One
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Previous Chapter | Master list | Next Chapter
Tumblr media
Warnings: Smut
Tumblr media
Orion
I roll up to the Hard Deck, parking my Bronco in one of the Active Duty Parking spots. I made sure to get here early enough to claim one. Walking through the saloon style doors, a bell chimes alerting the bar goers and staff that another patron has entered. 
As I approach my usual spot at the bar I’m greeted by none other than the wonderful Penny Benjamin. “Looking good tonight Rio! Do you want your usual?” 
I nod back to her, “Yes please, actually can you make it a double? And possibly bring out two of them?” I question her. 
She cocks her brow up at me, “What’s going on Rio?” I see her giving me that stern motherly glare, something I’ve only ever gotten after Penny stepped in to be my mother figure.
“Nothing bad Pen, just want to celebrate a job well done, teaching yet another Navigation course to some cocky whatever branch you wanna call that, oh wait Army infantry men.” 
The hearty laughter that escaped the lips of my mother figure brought a smile to my face, “Now Rio, you do know you used to be one of those Army infantry men.”
I roll my eyes, “Yes mama Pen, I do realize that.” I say whining back to her. 
“Now Rio, come on, stop acting like you’re twelve years old.” I cock my head to the side and just stare at her for a minute before pointedly saying, “Mama Pen, you do realize I actually never got to act like a twelve year old when I was actually twelve, right?”
She just shakes her head at me, “I know dear.” She reaches across the bar and gently squeezes my shoulder, and I rest my head against her hand.
I quickly perk my head up off her hand at the very familiar feeling in my back pocket as Penny places my two double shots down in front of me. “Hey mama Pen, mind keeping my seat warm for me?” I ask, while pointing to the ringing phone in my hand, while mouthing the words ‘Restricted Caller’ to her. She nods once to me before nodding towards the door that leads to her private office. 
I quickly take one of my double shots before running off to Penny’s office. Once inside I shut and lock the door, before pressing the green answer button, and cheerily answering, “Go for Rio!” I hear a man on the other line clear his throat, “This is not the time for callsigns Aviator.” I immediately gulped back down the pit that had rapidly formed in my stomach and had crawled up my throat. I clear my throat, beginning, “Sorry Sir, this is Commander Nox, may I ask who I’m speaking with?”
“Commander, this is Admiral Beau Simpson from NAS North Island.” The pit sinks further into my stomach now. “Yes Sir.” I reply awaiting his next response. “Commander I know your callsign proceeds you as the partying type but your reputation also proceeds you, but I’m calling for an extremely Urgent matter. Would you be able to stop by tomorrow for a meeting in my office?” 
I let out the breath I was holding, “Yes Sir, what time should I be there?” He clears his throat again, “I’ll be sending you all that information in an encrypted message here shortly, I look forward to discussing matters with you tomorrow.” 
“Roger that, Sir, I’ll be there.” I say before Admiral Simpson ends the call. I quickly put my phone away, and made my way back out to the Bar top. I take my seat, slumping against the bar and sighing. “Rough day?” A raspy voice rings out next to me. I turn to look at who the raspy voice came from, to spot a nearly 6’2 man, with honey brown curls and the most gorgeous honey eyes. “Oh uh, something like that.” I respond coolly, while grabbing my other double shot and throwing it back like it was water.
He just peers over to me, like he just saw an animal with 3 heads or something. “Yeah, considering how easily you just knocked back the shot there, I’d lay odds that it’s definitely been a day for you.” I chuckle dryly, “Yeah you can definitely say that again.” I raise my hand to get Penny’s attention, “Hey Penny, could I get another?” She gives me a disapproving glare, before pouring my third double of the night. 
“Take a Break after this one Rio.” She says scoldingly. “Yes Mom.” I groan back. The Honey haired man looks back to Penny to get his round of shots, before looking back to me, “Cheers?” He offers as he holds his shot glass up to me. I clink my shot glass against his, before hitting it on the bar top and tossing it back. 
“So uh, Mom?” The man next to me rasps, prying for more information on the situation between Penny and I. “Not my real mother, she pretty much became my only mother figure when I first arrived here.” I rambled out before I could even stop the word vomit caused by my double shots. “It’s really nothing to worry about though.” I tried to say it convincingly enough, hoping that he would stop prying. 
“Okay well, Rio then?” He questions, turning his body on the stool to face me. 
“Yup-” I say, popping the sound on the p. “That’s what all my Navy buddies call me at least.”
He does a double take before leaning over to try to look me in the face, while I stare dead ahead, watching Penny in her element. 
“Wait you’re Navy, how come I’ve never seen you around before now?” 
“Before now, wait, are you trying to tell me you’re Navy too or something. Oh god, don’t tell me you're in the Army.” I say trying to look at him before scrubbing my face with my hands. I’m met with a hearty chuckle. 
When I bring my face out of my hands, he feigns hurt, “Army, that’s what I’m reduced to?!” He shakes his head no, “No I’m definitely Navy, I’m Rooster.” 
He offers me his hand to shake, and I do, but can’t help joking, “Rooster huh, your parents hate you or something?”
This time he lets out a full belly laugh, “Quite the opposite, they adored the daylights out of me, I was perfect.” 
I cock my eyebrow up at him, “Oh that explains it all, they named you Rooster after your cockiness.” 
“Actually they just called me baby goose.” He pauses for a beat, “Rooster was given by my flight school group.” 
I nod taking in the information this man was so willing to share with me. 
“Flight school huh, so you’re an Aviator. The name fits you even more now.” He smirks at my comment, taking a swig of the beer I hadn’t seen nor heard him order. 
“So why do they call you Rio?” He pries again trying to get it out of me. 
I take the moment to plaster the most devilish grin on my face, “Now if I told you I’d have to kill you.” I smirk back at him, before breaking character, and laughing my ass off.
Penny turns to look at me at just the right moment and I nod her over to us. “Penny this sad sap wants to meet Rio, what do you say?” 
Penny scrubs her face, and walks over to the tequila and pours me a double shot, passing it over to me before nodding towards the phone connected to the Bluetooth speaker system. 
I turn on my ‘Going Out 🪩’ playlist and shuffling it, the first song that plays is “Move Ya Body” by Nina Sky, and Jabba. I flip through the playlist to queue up the next song I want in the shuffle. I toss back the double shot of Tequila while the rhythm and vibe changes in the bar. 
As I hear Move Ya Body coming to an end, I take Rooster's hand, assuming that I’ll never see him again after tonight, and lead him to the middle of the floor. 
‘Naughty Girl’ by Beyoncé starts playing and I start off with a little bit of a tango, to get the heart rates rising. Midway through the song I turn on my Rio persona, and turn around and start grinding and dancing seductively on Rooster, his hands immediately finding my hips and matching my energy. 
I can feel the Semi that Rooster is now working with, and we carry on dancing like that for another song or two, before I let the party animal persona die down and return the bar to its normal nature. 
I stroll back over to the bar, turning my playlist off and requesting two waters from Penny. Rooster sits back down on the barstool he was occupying earlier and before I take a seat on the one I was occupying, I lean over, and whisper against the shell of his right ear, “Welcome to Rio.” 
I watch as all the tiny hairs stand up on the back of his neck and down his arms. As I take my spot back on my stool, I peer over for just a brief moment, and I can see the creeping red flush climbing up his neck, before it settles hard in his cheeks and the tips of his ears. 
Penny sets the two waters in front of us, Rooster is immediately grabbing for his water and gulping it down. I start to take a drink of mine, when suddenly I hear Rooster next to me start to choke on his. I can only assume as he grows even more flush after settling back down that the last few minutes had caught up to him again. 
“Y’know Rooster, you’re supposed to drink the water, not inhale it.” I laugh sarcastically. 
“Yeah yeah, very funny Rio.” He glares at me through a side eye. 
I feel a familiar buzzing in my back pocket, and pull my phone out looking at it quickly. My face pinches, as I read how early Admiral Simpson wants me to meet him tomorrow. 
“Everything alright?” Rooster says, pulling my attention back to him. 
“Oh yeah, just peachy, just some Admiral wanting a meeting.” I say blowing off the importance of the text message. 
“So why do they call you Rooster anyways?” I attempt to pry the meaning of his since he knows why I’m called Rio.
“Well–” he pauses, “–This party animal once told me, if I tell you, I’d have to kill you.” He smirks with the devilish grin that I wore earlier. 
“Oh really now, I think I can figure it out, your entire persona exudes cockiness.” I roll my eyes, before drinking more of my water. 
Rooster flags down Penny, and sets down his card to pay his tab. She runs the card and gets him to sign the receipt. He puts his card back into the black bifold wallet, he then leans over to whisper into the shell of my ear, “If you really want to know, follow me.” He purposefully brushes his fingers against my arm as he walks away. 
“Penny!” I yell to her, dropping my card on the bar top, to pay my tab. I don’t even wait to get my card back, I’m quickly peeling myself away from the bar to follow Rooster. 
He walks into the bathroom, and my eyes widen. I quickly look around the bar to make sure no is looking in this direction before slipping into the bathroom myself. 
As soon as I walk in, Rooster slams the door shut, locking it behind me, before we end up in a very heated and bruising kiss and a tangle of arms and legs with my back pressed firmly against the door. 
I slowly snake my hands up his arms, feeling every hill and valley in his muscular form, the thoughts that race through my head are enough to make a nun faint, and soak my panties a little more. 
We pull apart just long enough to get a breath of air, a small string of spit still connecting our mouths. “Roo–” was all I was able to squeak out before one smooth solid motion had my pants unzipped, and his big muscular hand connecting itself to my aching core, and the most sinful moan escaped shortly after, as I pulled him back in for another bruising kiss.
The combination of me squeaking out a partial of his callsign, the sinful moan, and the ever growing slick at my core, had him groaning into my mouth and pulling one of my legs up around his waist. 
I waste no time grinding against him, wrapping my arms around his neck, and my other leg around his waist, as his other hand slips down to cup my ass and carries me over to the bathroom counter. 
He drops me back down to my feet, and I take advantage of that, wasting no time in unzipping his pants, and freeing his length from the confines of his pants and boxers, springing out before me. 
I take in the gorgeous sight before me, and pump his length a few times, then using the precum as lubricant, he groans again, throwing his head back. When his gaze meets mine again, those gorgeous honey eyes are gone, and are replaced by gorgeous dark chocolate eyes as his gaze darkened. 
Rooster can’t take it any longer, he removes himself from my grasp, and grabs my hips, spinning me around to face the counter. 
“Grab the counter.” He commands, and I submit to him. I lay against the counter, holding on, while he swiftly pulls my pants and panties down enough to gain access. He kicks my feet apart, and then rubs his hard length against my folds, and leans over me, kissing my neck softly. 
I grind my hips against his, and that’s all that was needed for him to slip in, and fully seat himself inside me, before quickly picking up the pace and slamming into me as wet skin slaps together. 
“R-Rooster, please.” I whine as I reach down to fondle my clit, but my hand is quickly swatted away, before his hand slowly creeps down the soft skin of my tummy, past my hips, he grabs a fistful of my thigh, finally making his way to my clit.
The pace in which his fingers worked over my clit was agonizing, far too slow, and way too much teasing. 
He continues his tirade on my body, thrusting rough and fast, as his left hand works agonizingly slow on my clit, his right snakes up my body, to my throat, all blood now being restricted. I let out another sinful guttural moan and I topple quickly over the edge, my moans and climax sending Rooster quickly over the edge as well. 
He pulls out and we quickly clean up, and put our clothes back on. I had turned around to face him, leaning against the counter now. 
“I definitely see why they call you Rooster now.” I say, before palming the front of his jeans, and placing a chaste kiss to his cheek, and walking out the bathroom door towards my seat at the bar, to collect the card from Mama Pen. 
I tap impatiently against the bar needing to get out here before Rooster comes out of the bathroom. “Hey I’m heading out for the night, got some other admiral’s ass to kiss in the morning. Love you Mama Pen!” 
She grabs my wrist before I leave, “Orion, don’t make an ass of yourself.” She warns, but the only thing I’m worried about is that dopey ass look in Rooster’s eyes that clued me in that he’d have given me his number if I don’t get out of here soon. I nod to Penny and then bolt out of the door, to make my way home.
Tumblr media
Previous | Next
Tumblr media
Taglist:
@mayhemmanaged @roosterforme @startrekfangirl2233 @desert-fern @roostette @cassiemitchell @sarahsmi13s @lavenderbradshaw @lovinglyeternal @bradleybeachbabe
8 notes · View notes
blackjackkent · 11 months
Text
We completely sidelined the actual plot for a while last time because Aerie had got dead and we had to deal with that situation bc Caden was not handling the idea of his girlfriend dying very well. But we also, as a result of killing Bodhi, have access to an elven lantern we were trying to get, which is a tool necessary to bring back the city Irenicus is in, which has been whisked off to another plane or otherwise hidden by an illusion that can't be dispelled. (Convenient.)
I only meant to briefly stop at the inn because everyone in the party was exhausted...but lo and behold, there's another dream sequence waiting for us!
These are always good and emotionally devastating. o.o
Tumblr media
The sharp scent of oak and pine registers in his senses. Beneath his feet he feels the gentle rasp of his boot heels on rough tree bark. The nostalgia this evokes is like a punch to the gut; he remembers clambering up trees in Candlekeep, always a little faster than Imoen with his extra height, calling down to her with a laugh, "Keep up, slowpoke! I can see the whole keep from here!"
But this is no such tree as they had back in the gardens of his home, so far away now. It is an enormous tree, the branch stretching like the arm of some great monster out into the distance ahead of him. Behind him, the great trunk of the tree has been abruptly lopped into a stump just above the level of the branch he stands on, and is adorned with some elaborate structure he cannot quite see.
Tumblr media
And the voice whispers in his ears, a soft woman's voice, a counterpoint to the constant low murmur of Bhaal's darkness in him. The speaker wears a green cloak that half blends her with the leafy shadows around them, and moves with the light tread of a ranger or a spirit. He does not recognize her face, though she clearly recognizes him.
"Awaken. Awaken and hear me. I bring visions of warning, of what is happening now and what may happen soon."
Whatever it is she wishes to speak of to him in this strange dream plane, it is urgent. Her tone and the look in her eyes conveys that intensely, and even through the flat apathy that has consumed him since his soul was taken, he cannot help but focus his eyes on her and listen.
Tumblr media
"This image will speak true, for you are of two sides, and the liars have said their part. You travel in search of yourself, divided, splintered. There is a piece of you missing."
He hesitates, then nods slowly. Who she is, how she knows what has happened to him...it doesn't matter; he feels that empty place in his chest ache in answer to her words.
"The hole inside you fills with death, with darkness, while another -- Irenicus -- kills you with your strength. Look. Look at the destruction he has wrought. See the corruption that he brings."
Visions elsewhere in this enormous winding tree. Irenicus -- cloaked in darkness, a shadow among the shadows -- emerging onto a group of elves, a burst of fury and violence and death.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
"He has stolen your future to replace his own, avoided his proper fate. This must be undone! For your sake, and theirs, you must take back what has been stolen. If their lives are not enough, then think of your own. You will lose yourself to the hole within."
He wants to speak, to explain that he is trying, so terribly hard. That he would gladly die at this moment if it weren't for Irenicus continuing to live, and the destruction he will cause. That he is acutely aware of the spreading emptiness where his soul used to be.
Help me... he wants to say. But the words will not come out. And hers continue, soft and implacable.
"Yours is the potential to be your own worst enemy... or your own savior."
She reaches out, lays a hand on his shoulder, and as the soft touch presses through his armor, he snaps awake, a ragged breath choking in his throat. He is in Trademeet, in the inn bed he is sharing with Aerie, who is wrapped around him tightly enough almost to bruise. The sheets are tangled around him and the darkness seems to have a thousand eyes watching him.
6 notes · View notes
museiamcalliope · 1 year
Text
Cannabinoid Hyperemesis Syndrome
Hello to all, and welcome to my life with CHS. I made this account, so I can share my story and be there for others who are suffering from CHS, as well as to educate those who may be experiencing this and not be aware of the condition or cant come to terms with the fact that cannabis is making you ill.
Cannabinoid Hyperemesis Syndrome is a condition in which the effected person suffers a very wide variety of symptoms ranging from tolerable to extreme. Here are my symptoms in order of severity; extreme nausea and stomach pain, scromiting (scream vomiting), Dehydration, loss of appetite, anxiety night sweats, restlessness. With this condition, your symptoms will only go away if you permanently stop using cannabis. It is believed by some that this condition only effects long term users, but even if you are new to using, if you “green out” often, this could be your first sign that you are starting in on a trail of suffering.
I had been using for 5 years and I had my first battle with CHS this summer, 2022. At first, I didn't want to believe that it was the cannabis that was making me sick because I liked using. The first bout I had my symptoms lasted 10 days with the first 5-6 days being the most severe, then gradually I got better and the symptoms stopped. And I had stopped using during the 10 days. I went to urgent care on day 3, where the Dr thought it could be many things causing my extreme discomfort. After lots of questions and working together to get to the bottom of this the Dr asked me if I used cannabis to which I answered “yes” and then he said it's possibly CHS, stop using and see if this comes back. I did stop using for the whole time I was sick and then when I got better I decided to try using again. I was okay for a few months with occasional morning sickness, but I thought if tat was the extent of it than I might as well continue.
I continued smoking for the next five months, which brings us to now. And let me tell you, the second time around this has been so awful, and scary and not to mention strenuous to my mental health. I had all the symptoms as the first time, but when compared, this time is literal hell. I can't count how many times I told my SO that I thought I was going to die. I had to go to the ER because after 5 days of constant vomiting, I was so dehydrated that I could feel my heart beat in my kidneys. At the ER they were able to replenish my hydration through IV and they had also administered nausea medicine and pain medicine through the IV which only gave me relief for what felt like 15 minutes, but I have only thrown up once since my treatment, even though I'm still queasy. This started on the 5th with throwing up in the am and going down hill for what felt like weeks but in reality was just two days, going to the ER the night of the 8th. Finally coming to terms with the fact that it was indeed the use of cannabis causing this condition, I completely stopped using on the 6th of this month and I will never use again.
If you think you might be suffering from CHS or are experiencing any of these symptoms, no matter how severe, you should definitely ask your Dr about CHS.
You are not alone! Please reach out if you would like my additional support/input as a sufferer of CHS. Also feel free to leave any questions in the comments below.
3 notes · View notes
ecoamerica · 1 month
Text
youtube
Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc
The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!
17K notes · View notes