Tumgik
#also like I didn’t show it here but some coloured pages look really bad
Note
Shueisha color teasers dropped! thoughts on the pallettes?
Okay quick rundown of what I think!
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I think Jodio and Dragona look the best, I’m glad they kept Jodio’s colours, and Dragona looks more or less what I expected!
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Though I’m not in love with the orange outfit for dragona, I think green or purple would have looked way better! Paco is fine, though I think his hair should have been a dirty blonde.
And I’m so sorry Usagi enjoyers, he’s a lost cause, they made him tingle. They feared to let him slay, they debuffed him. It almost looks alright but then they made the hat neon blue,,, should of been at least red to at least compliment just a lil
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I think everyone else’s colours are fine! Though kinda just standard, and I do love November rain, I won with him having blue!! (Looks like weather report which is super cool)
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Tbh I can get use to these colours, EVEN though I’ll probably still use the colour palettes I’ve been using, not like Shueisha colours are canon, It’s disappointing they just used palettes from certain Araki paintings over trying to make their own decisions on palettes
Jodio is fine, seeing Araki used it multiple times so it feels like that is what Jodio is supposed to look like, but taking from a painting where the whole point is to be one certain colour scheme, where everyone matches (Araki does these types of paintings a lot) feels somewhat misguided and will make Dragona, Paco and Usagi blend together and while Jodio will stand out.
I feel like there should be more variety of colours amongst the group, similar to how Golden Winds cast are all defined by one colour. I felt like it was too soon to give them colours, but again maybe I’ll warm up to them,
Definitely still using my own palettes whenever I feel like drawing them again🩵🩵🩵
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fluffshisuga · 1 year
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Exams (Xavier x Reader)
Hello again! Finals are here at my university and let me tell you, it sucks. But this is perfect, because a request came in!
Requested by @ilovexavierthrope : Could you pls write one about Xavier x reader and the reader has ADHD maybe if your okay with that and the reader is studying for finals like crazy bc its their first year at nevermore? (Maybe mention that reader has autism). I tried my best, I feel like I had the ADHD part down, especially since I have it, but I’m currently not professionally on the spectrum so I hope I didn’t do too bad! Also, for anyone taking exams, I believe in you! You got this! This is 4225 words omg also it's 234am i love you guys 💙
Warnings: Mentions that reader is fem, some angst, panic over exams. I never really said that the reader is autistic or had adhd but it's heavily implied mainly by my own adhd habits, i had YouTube playing while i wrote this and i was also listening to music.
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      Like any other school, Nevermore had exams for their classes as well. Of course, they were different from normal exams, which meant that the students had to study harder than the average teen. Although most students were already used to the hard studying, newcomers were prone to having a far more difficult time trying to fit studying into their already busy schedules. Especially you, who had only just started your first year at Nevermore. Classes were already pretty difficult for an ever-racing mind, but trying to cram a bunch of information in to a brain that can’t even remember what it had for breakfast? Torture.
      Your routine was based off the clock, classes from 9am to near 5pm, giving you barely enough time to eat during the day, which resulted in you just completely forgetting that you needed food. Once that was over, you would beeline to the library to collect any books you could that had information on the classes you were taking. You had no idea what you were doing, never having a set study habit, and just trying whatever came to mind, you had flashcards and paper filled with copied notes, some colour coded in hopes that it would make it easier to remember. You even had a whole playlist that you listened to while studying, yet, for whatever reason, the words wouldn’t stick. You’d have to read over what you had already read multiple times, only to space out halfway through and come back confused. You’d constantly look up from your books and check the time, frowning when you noticed it had only been 5 minutes since you last checked, although it felt like it had been way longer. You would constantly change the song as well, deeming certain ones to be unhelpful in your studies even if you added them to the playlist specifically for that reason.
      You only really had contact with friends in class, who would ask you if you were free later that day to hang out. Enid especially asked you almost every day, frowning each time you told her you needed to study for the exams coming up. Wednesday even started to show concern, pointing out the dark circles forming under your eyes, and the growl of your stomach at the mention of lunch. “I think you should take a break, really.” Enid said, taking the book out of your hand and closing it. You desperately tried to write down what page you were on, but it had already left your mind. “Enid! Now I must read the whole thing again to find out what page I was on.” You scowled. Enid only shook her head and gathered your things up as the class was dismissed. “You’re coming to lunch with us, whether you like it or not! I can even quiz you while we eat if that would make you feel better?” You could only sigh as you left your seat, trudging after Enid and Wednesday.
      You sat down at a table, looking down at the food you had grabbed with heavy eyes. A slam next to you nearly made you jump out of your skin. “Pop quiz!” Enid exclaimed, holding one of your books in her hand. “Let’s see…ah! Who was the last God to enter Olympus?” You stared blankly at Enid, not comprehending what she had even said yet. You tried to think, racking your brain as you did, but nothing came up. There was only one name that came up when you thought of the question. “Alexius?” Was all you could come up with, and you knew it was the wrong answer as soon as you said it, watching Enid’s smile droop slightly at the answer. “Uh, no not quite. It says here that it was Dionysus. I’m not sure if I’m saying that right but yeah, not Alexius.” Enid stated, placing the book down in front of you and pointing out the answer. You facepalmed as the answer came into your head just seconds before she said the name, becoming mildly discouraged already.
      “Dionysus was the last God, but only because Homer didn’t admit him in.” A voice spoke behind you, and you felt the seat next to you shift as someone sat down beside you. Looking over, you lock eyes with Xavier, whom you shared the class with. He smiled as he continued, “Although that was a good guess, but his name is pronounced Alcaeus, it’s not really spelled the same way. That was the original name of Heracles, also not pronounced the same way as the Disney movie. It means Strength, and many leaders in Greece were named Alcaeus for that reason.” You dropped your head in defeat and embarrassment, feeling inferior to Xavier’s random knowledge on the Greek Gods. “That wasn’t even part of the class though, where did you get that name from?” He asked, placing his hand on his cheek as he looked at you. “I’m going to be honest,” you started, “no idea. I thought that if I read the whole book, I’d be ready for the exam, but I don’t even remember reading about Alcaeus.” A moment of silence fell onto the table, only to be interrupted by a gasp from you. “That’s right! That name was in a game I played! It was all about Greek Mythology. Alcaeus was the brother that we thought was dead. That’s where I got the name from.” The sudden memory made you excited, but your cheeks flushed red as you realized that your outburst was all because of a game, and that your answer to Enid’s question was all based off said game. “Anyway, clearly I need to study more, so I should be going.” You started, taking a large bite of food, and gathering your items once again. “Y/n! At least finish eating?” Enid yelled, watching as you trotted away, a book opened in your hands.
      Later that day, you sat under a tree, a different book in hand and pencil in the other, hurriedly writing anything that you felt was important for your French class. You had a list of words that would be considered feminine in French, placing certain words into the column and others in the other. “So, If I wanted to preserve something…it would be…sanctuariser. Do I even need to know that?” You spoke to yourself, looking back to the little piece of paper with a list of things the teacher said to study. “Absolutely not.” You groaned as you dropped your arms, playing with the grass and taking a few breaths. “Need any help?” A voice spoke, spooking you and causing you to hit your head on the trunk of the tree. Xavier hovered over you, a concerned look on his face as he watched you rub the back of your head. “Xavier, you scared the living daylights out of me!” You breathed, checking your hand to see if you were bleeding. “Sorry,” he chuckled, taking a seat next to you. He looked over your shoulder and read what you had written down, taking your pencil, and correcting minor mistakes like accents over e’s and the like. “I can help you, if you want?” He asked, watching as you looked down at the grass. You didn’t want to ask for help. Asking for help was like admitting defeat, and defeat would make people disappointed in you. Your mind raced at the idea that people would see you as a failure, and you desperately grabbed the grass to keep yourself grounded. “Uh, not now. Thank you, Xavier, though.” You said, taking the pencil back and writing more terms in French. Xavier kept his seat next to you, watching as you tried to study a new way, a way that you were taught when you were small. It was mainly a way to make sure you remembered how to spell words but writing the French words three times seemed like it would help you to remember them. It worked, slightly.
      As the time passed, the sun began to set. The breeze, although it was welcomed, was also distracting, and getting colder. You shivered as you flipped through the pages of yet another book, drifting your eyes over to Xavier every now and then to see if he was still there. He had been looking over your shoulder the whole time, asking if he could help every now and then. Sometimes he would help whether you liked it or not and would write little notes on the side of certain words in hopes that it would help you remember them better. Eventually he stood up and extended his hand out to you. “Come on, lets go inside before it gets too cold.” He offered. You stared at his hand for a moment, gathering up your things and taking it. “I still haven’t found the answer to a lot of the review questions, though, so once I get inside, I need to go to the library and find a book that has the answers.” You started, walking beside Xavier towards the giant doors. “I’m sure you can find the answers tomorrow, the exams aren’t until next week.” Xavier said, opening the door for you. You sighed as the warm air hit you, closing your eyes and giving you a brief wave of fatigue. You opened your eyes, looking up at Xavier, “I know that, but I just need to make sure I know the material.” Xavier could only scoff and shake his head as you checked your phone. “I have to go; I need to get those books!” You shouted, sending a final wave to Xavier as you sped away.
      The next day was a Saturday. There were no classes, giving students extra time to catch up on both sleep and their studies. This also meant that you were up at sunrise, quickly making your way to the library. Your mind raced as you thought of what you needed to study next, while also trying to remember what you had studied the previous day. This early in the morning, there weren’t many people in the library, giving you first pick at what you needed for studying. With your arms full, you tucked yourself into a corner and set up your study space.
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      Xavier woke up around 10am, a time he deemed normal for the weekend. He turned in his bed and glanced at the empty bed on the other side of the room, once occupied by Rowan. He would always comment on Xavier’s sleeping habits and tell him about getting enough sleep, claiming that it would help him remember more from his classes. He groaned at the thought of Rowan not being there, and slowly got up. He took a quick shower and made his way down to grab something to eat. He took a seat next to a tired Enid and emotionless Wednesday, Enid picking at her food as she looked around the room. “Xavier, you’re later than normal.” Wednesday pointed out, glancing over at him. Xavier could only shrug and take a bite of his food, watching as Enid’s head whipped around every few moments. He raised an eyebrow, “what are you looking for, Enid?�� He questioned, fork midway to his mouth. Enid’s nails shot out and quickly retracted, and she took a final glance around before she set her eyes on Xavier. “Y/n, they aren’t here yet.” She said, tapping her fingers as she took another bite. “She’s normally here by now,” she mumbled, placing a hand over her mouth so she wouldn’t spit any food out. Xavier looked around, scanning the room quickly before shrugging. “Maybe she’s sleeping in? She’s been studying a lot; she’s got to be exhausted.” He explained, taking a final bite of his food. Enid shook her head and frowned. “She never misses our breakfast routine, you know that.” Xavier raised his hands, nodding his head. “I understand. Listen, I’ll keep an eye out for her, how about that? If I see her, I’ll let you know and tell her you’re worried.” Enid’s face relaxed a bit and her shoulders dropped slightly, nodding.
      With that, Xavier went about his Saturday routine. Archery practice, a trip to the library, lunch. The whole time, he kept his eyes open for you. He didn’t see you in the library, which only told him that you were probably still sleeping. Once 3pm came around and you didn’t show up for lunch, he went out in search of you. He looked by the tree he had found you the previous day, a pencil in your spot. Xavier figured that you left it by accident and picked it up, planning to hand it back to you next time he saw you. He ran into Ajax and asked him if he had seen you, “last I saw Y/n, they were in the library, in the normal corner. They were there when I showed up, but that was a bit ago.” Ajax recounted, and he walked back with Xavier to the library to show him where you had been sitting, only to find the corner empty save for a book. Xavier sighed as he picked it up, placing it in his bag along with the growing list of items he needed to return to you. You weren’t at dinner either, and now Enid wasn’t the only one worried about your whereabouts. Xavier even went to your dorm, knocking on the door and talking with your roommate. “Honestly? Haven’t seen them for a bit. They weren’t in bed when I got up this morning. Come to think of it, they weren’t in bed when I went to sleep either.” They said, shrugging. Xavier sighed and ran a hand through his hair, stress building up as the time went by. He had no idea where you would be hiding.
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      You were on the ground, laptop in front of you and books scattered around you. Your phone played your studying playlist as you waved your hand along the ground in search of the pen you had just put down. Your laptop had multiple tabs open, YouTube in one, a few word documents, an “official page of Greek Mythology” opened in yet another tab. So many things happening at once, yet you couldn’t focus on any of them. Normally, having multiple stimuli helped you get assignments done, but for something so nerve wracking and important as exams, nothing seemed to do the trick. You felt yourself breakdown slowly as you stared at the blank page, unable for the life of you to come up with the answer to “Who visited Danae, and fathered her son?” Your mind told you that it was simple, the answer on the tip of your tongue, yet nothing. You start to shake your head, muttering curses to yourself for not remembering something so simple as a name. You switched through songs on your phone, hoping that a song would pop up that would spark the answer. You didn’t hear the snapping outside the room, or the rumbling of the statue revealing a staircase. You were too preoccupied, trying desperately to hold your tears back so you wouldn’t smudge the ink on your paper.
      Xavier walked down the stairs, stopping mid step to find you in the center of the room, rocking and holding back sniffles as you shuffled through paper. He called out your name, hoping to catch your attention, but he quickly realized that you had your earbuds in, unable to hear a single word he could utter. He stepped carefully, making his way slowly towards you so you didn’t get spooked. He watched as the tears welled up even more in your eyes as you slowly looked up, realizing that you were no longer alone. Realizing that you were in a vulnerable state, Xavier sat next to you, wrapping an arm around your shaking figure, and rubbing your back, letting you collect your thoughts. You shuddered as you tried to hold back your tears, but Xavier’s calming voice seemed to finally break the dam. “I know you’re stressed. You can tell me about it when you’re ready.”
      Tears spilled from your eyes and ran down your cheeks. You struggled to get anything out that weren’t incoherent sobs, a stutter of words falling from your lips as you struggled to explain. “I just? You know? It’s my first year here,” another sob, “and I don’t want to seem like a failure. I want them to know that I can handle it! I can! But my mind is just racing? Everything is distracting me, but if I don’t have anything to distract me, I get super anxious and cant focus. But I hate it so much.” You breathed heavily as you tried to find a way to explain your thoughts. “I just…I don’t want to be a disappointment. I want to get good marks on these exams, so no one looks down on me, and yet I just can’t understand what I’m looking at. But the idea of asking for help feels so demeaning! It feels like I’m admitting to failure, and if I do that, then I’m a lost cause.” You continued to sob as you turned to bury your face into Xavier’s chest, the harsh reality becoming real as you spoke, causing you to break down even more. Xavier remained quiet as he kept rubbing your back, humming a soft tune to calm you down. He allowed you to get all your emotions out and calm down on your own, only whispering every now and then soft words of comfort until you had cried enough. You slacked in his embrace, taking deep breaths as your tears began to dry.
      Xavier brought your face up so he could meet your eyes. He took note at how red they were, how puffy your skin had become, and how dark the circles under your eyes had become. He sighed as he studied your face, trying to find the right words to say. “You’re not a failure, I can see that. And you’re not a failure for accepting help when you need it. Exams are stressful, trust me, but you don’t have to deal with he stress of them alone, you know. You have me, and Enid, and Wednesday would probably help you if you asked.” He wiped tears away as he continued, “No one will think you’re a failure. They wont see you as a disappointment either. No one is perfect, hell, I failed an exam my first year all because I was too stressed to even understand what it was I was learning. Am I a disappointment?” You shook your head in response, a small smile on your lips. “No, maybe a bit of a dork, but not a disappointment.” You responded. Xavier smiled and rested his forehead against yours. “Exactly. Everyone fails at least once. I think it builds character. But you’re not going to fail. Not if I can help it.” He pressed a kiss to you temple as he grabbed one of your books, “Now, Danae was visited by a God and was then pregnant. Remember that her son is the one that’s supposed to take down the king, her father. Which God seems like the kind of person to knock a girl up knowing that the prophecy states a war to follow?” You bit the inside of your cheek, thinking hard. “A God that would do something like that? It sounds like a Zeus thing?” You questioned, brows furrowed. Xavier smiled and nodded, pointing out an excerpt from the book. So Danae endured, the beautiful, to change the glad daylight for brass-bound walls, and in that chamber secret as the grave She lived a prisoner. Yet to her came Zeus in the golden rain. This was the story of Perseus.
      Xavier stayed by your side as you studied together, helping each other to remember the content. As the night dragged on, your eyes became heavy, and you yawned. “I think it’s time to wrap it up for tonight, don’t you think?” Xavier asked as he closed the book he was reading from. You nodded slowly, stretching your arms, and sighing as your back popped and cracked as you moved the stiff muscles. “Can we do this again tomorrow, then?” You asked, gathering your items up. Xavier smiled and nodded, “Of course, but only after you get some rest and something to eat tomorrow.” You chuckled and made your way up the stairs, walking with Xavier back up to your dorm. The next morning, you woke around 10:30, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. You looked over at your phone, finding a text from Xavier that read, “Once you wake up, let me know, I’ll meet you for breakfast.” You smiled as you sat up in bed, stretching your tired muscles and letting out a yawn. You grabbed something to wear and picked up your bag full of study material, shooting a text to Xavier and making your way to the dining hall.
      He met you there and walked with you to grab your food, sitting down at your normal table and eating silently for a few moments. Enid and Wednesday followed shortly after, Enid hurrying to your side and expressing her worries for your well-being, and scolding Xavier for not telling her that you were ok. You chuckled at her and thanked her for worrying about you, continuing to take bites of your food as the two girls went off to get their own food. “So, I was thinking,” Xavier started, holding his fork in the air, and pointing it towards you. “That’s never good,” you quickly said, stifling a giggle. Xavier frowned, continuing, “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that. Anyway, exams begin in three days, so why don’t we study together until they’re over? We meet in the secret room, I bring snacks and water, we ace those exams?” You sat there, chewing on your food as you thought about his offer. He was a great help when it came to studying, and your little session last night helped you to understand a bit of what you were doing. “Sounds like a plan.” You said, taking another bite of your breakfast.
      The days following were filled study sessions with Xavier, and once one exam was done you studied for the next exam. Feeling confident, you walked into each class ready to take the exam, meeting Xavier afterwards to tell him about it and how you felt afterwards. You’d then get dinner, study for the next exam, and just hang out between studying to give your minds a break. It felt as if the exams went by with a snap, and before you knew it, they were over. You had two days until the grades would come out, and although you were happy for it to finally be over, a part of you was sad that you wouldn’t be meeting Xavier each night to study anymore. It felt as if a cloud hung over your head as you went to bed that night, only growing heavier as your thoughts raced once again. In the morning, you woke up to a text from Xavier, asking you when you wanted to go get breakfast. You smiled as you got up and ready, the cloud above your head slowly shrinking as you went to meet Xavier for breakfast. Afterwards, you walked together into Jericho, finding a coffee shop to refuel your energy that had left your body from the week. “Do you think you passed?” You asked Xavier as you took a sip of your drink, its contents brought you joy and comfort. Xavier took a sip of his own drink, a smile gracing his lips. “Of course, I had the best study partner in all of Nevermore to help me.” You felt your cheeks warm at his comment, drifting your eyes down to you drink in embarrassment. “Yeah… Maybe I did well too, then.”
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      When grades came out, you nearly cried. You had passed every single exam, and it was all thanks to Xavier. You had looked everywhere to find him, finding him in his dorm working on a sketch in his sketchbook. When he opened the door, you ran in and wrapped your arms tightly around his torso, a giant smile greeting him. “Xavier! We did it! I passed all the exams!” You shouted happily, jumping in excitement. Xavier hugged you back, planting a kiss to your hair as he reveled in your excitement. Your smile was contagious and seeing you happy made him happy. “That’s amazing!” He exclaimed, his smile widening as he looked at you. “We need to celebrate.” And with that, the two of you went out to a small restaurant, enjoying each other’s company as you talked about anything you could think of. After, you went to get something sweet to eat as you made your way back to the school, making your way to Xavier’s dorm. “Let’s watch a movie!” You said, pulling out your phone and connecting it to the little projector you had left in his room one time. You spent the whole night watching movies, cuddled up together. Eventually, you fell asleep in Xavier’s arms, and he gave you a final kiss on your temple before whispering goodnight, falling asleep himself.
Hi me again. Your comments mean so much to me💙 i woke up to my phone constantly buzzing with feedback on Festive Outings, it made me really happy you have no idea. Again, if you have exams soon, you got this!! 💙💙
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arleniansdoodles · 1 year
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Here´s a question i been wondering. Does Atreus get to tell Calliope about his mother? And if yes, what does she think about Laufey the Just.
Yes, he does tell Calliope a bit about Laufey! Within the story, Calliope has already formed a sort of bond/attachment with Atreus at this point, so hearing about his mother doesn't feel as conflicting as it might've been if she first heard of Faye upon learning that Kratos had another family away from Greece. Then Faye would probably feel more like a stranger, someone who stole away Calliope's father, y'know?
In fact, I think I'll show you the scene from my fic! It's early on in the story, with Atreus and Calliope having escaped the Underworld for the first time. They're now heading to Athens, and Calliope's dealing with some nightmares (she was crying earlier in this scene). She's also in the "Father abandoned and forgot about me" grieving stage of her feels journey ^^;; You can find it below the cut, if you're alright with spoilers! XDD
___
“Atreus?” she said after a moment. “D-did he ever tell y-you ab-about me?”
A pause. “No,” Atreus replied. There was something tight in his tone that Calliope didn’t quite like. “He hardly told me about his past. The things he did, and all that. He never told me about you, or your mother.”
“My m-mother is Ly-Lysandra,” Calliope offered.
“Lysandra,” Atreus repeated. He gave her a very gentle squeeze. “I’ll remember that.”
Calliope squeezed him back, as much as her trembling arms were able to manage. “Wh-what is your mother’s name?”
“Laufey.” She heard the smile in his voice. “But you can call her Faye.”
“Does she look like you?”
“She did. She mostly raised me when I was young, since Kratos went hunting a lot. She used to carry around an axe.”
“An axe?” Calliope repeated, startled. “Really?”
“Really. It has ice powers. And if you throw it far, you can call it back, and it’ll come flying back to your hand.”
“A flying axe?” Calliope could hardly believe it. But Atreus had magic arrows that turned different colours when he fired them. And he could turn into animals. What other surprises did he have up his sleeve?
“She also sang to me when I was sick,” Atreus went on. “I’ll sing one of her songs for you, if you want. To help you sleep.”
Calliope sniffled and snuggled closer to his side. “Okay.”
Atreus’ low voice soon filled the room, sweet and melancholic.
(He sings Laufey's song here, from the GoW OST, Ashes)
That night, Calliope dreamed of a tall woman with fair hair and blue eyes. With her mighty axe, the woman chopped up all the bad dreams and tossed them away, then pranced toward the tall mountains in the distance, disappearing into the light.
___
(The following day; Calliope looks through Atreus' journal with his travel entries.)
There was another portrait on the next page. Calliope took in the woman’s braided hair and bright eyes, the mischievous touch to her smile. She looked at Atreus, then at the portrait. “Is this Laufey?”
Atreus nodded. “That’s her. From what I could remember, at least.”
“I like her face. She looks like you.”
Atreus ducked his head, but not before Calliope spotted his shy smile. As she turned to the next page, Atreus asked, “Did Lysandra look like you?”
Calliope hesitated. “I think so. That’s what all the women said.” She tried to bring her mother’s face to mind, but her memory was blurred at the edges. Long, dark hair. A blue tainia and peplos. If only Calliope could draw! Putting it down on paper would surely help her memory become clearer.
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nuttytani · 4 months
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My manager is a total grandpa but he can kick some ass?
Fandom: Genshin Impact
Pairing: Tartaglia | Childe x Zhongli
Premise: Ajax is a popular idol named Tartaglia and is known to be a bratty prince and hard to work with, or so they say. His agency has hired him a new manager, since his previous one quit, yet again!
A/N: heavily inspired by that one dongfish art here and here. I mean not 100% but you'll know it once you see it. But what actually made me write an idol au was because of this IU clip here
Fic can also be read here on my ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51099172/chapters/129105334
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Chapter 1
Being famous and infamous was a pain in the ass, Ajax Turov decides, flicking through the manila folder handed to him by Rosaline. 
Sure, he had his wealth, fame and popularity, but it never really was enough for the prying public. See, thanks to the press and his past managers, internationally-famous solo idol Tartaglia had earned the nickname Childe.
A bratty prince.
Seriously. Was it his fault they were so incompetent? His previous one had just stormed from the company building a small handful of days earlier after receiving an admittedly harsh scolding from the idol himself for failing to pick him up on time. Which meant the variety show he had been scheduled to participate in had cut him out completely.
The lack of compassion of his ex-managers. He was busy enough as it was—he didn't need the added stress from the failure of his managers added to that mess of a soup. 
Rosaline had heard about that incident that occurred a few days ago, and called Ajax to her office. She was in a bad mood, he could tell that much from the tone of her voice and furrowed brows. Though, she always had a resting bitch face, but today in particular she looked livid, like a witch waiting to boil him in a cauldron. 
“Thanks to your outstanding behaviour, yet another manager has quit! We’ve barely reached the end of this year and it’s already the 11th time now.” She stared at him, clearly unimpressed by the downward turn of her lips. 
“You should be thankful that we managed to find a new person within a short time, and don’t you dare scare this one off, or there will be consequences.”
“He will start tomorrow, 8 am sharp.” She dismissed him with a wave of her hand and he left her office feeling pretty annoyed.
Now that he’s back in his break room, on the stuffy couch, he sulks, still going through the folder. It really isn’t his fault. Perhaps his agency hires the worst people on purpose. Few mistakes are human, but it’s more than a coincidence when multiple managers make the same mistake hundreds of times. He doesn’t want to blow up at his managers, no one deserves unjust anger but, he also has a limit. Why shouldn’t he be upset? He has more than the right to when it starts affecting his career that he built with literal tears and sweat. 
A small picture of a man catches his attention, as he flipped through the pages. A brunet with long hair tied to the back, beige coloured gingham cardigan. Typical.  Amber eyes hidden behind chunky black rimmed glasses. Grandpa-esque, even his granny doesn’t wear these old styled glasses anymore. 
Nerd. They hired a stereotypical nerd for him, he concludes.
.
“Please give me your phone for a moment.” 
Ajax found out that he really didn’t like the new manager. He talked like a grandpa, would text like a grandpa and even wear clothes like a grandpa. Not to mention, he was a total nerd and annoying as hell. A control freak who thought everything he did was right and what Ajax did was wrong. 
“Fine, but let me get some fresh air first.”
“But your–”
He left before his manager… What was his name again? Zongzi ? Well whatever, he left.
What Ajax really needs is a smoke break. He is under stress with all the shit that’s been happening, especially with how the paparazzi is on his back about hiring yet another manager. Then there’s this new drama that he got a part in, and is supposed to play as the second love interest, it’s been taking a huge chunk of his energy. Even though his screen time is short, he still needs to put in the effort to show that yes, he can act, and he is worthy of the role he received. 
He takes a puff of the cigarette and thinks for a moment. 
Perhaps entering the entertainment industry was a mistake, but he would still do this all over again especially if it helped his family in terms of finance. Before Ajax started earning in heaps, they weren’t doing so well. His dad would take up multiple jobs to make ends meet and his mom would work overtime and come back home later than normal. 
He takes another puff and closes his eyes. Letting his muscles relax as they were too tense throughout the day. 
“Ohoho, well isn’t this the number one Tartaglia, in the flesh.” 
Ah shit. He was too lost in thoughts to hear people sneaking up on him. 
“Hey pretty boy, don’t be scared. We just want to…Talk with you.” A stranger comes closer, way too close for comfort and smiles creepily. 
“That’s right, no need to panic.”
“Can’t believe we got lucky enough to meet with the real deal. Wanna taste him boys?” one of them cackles and looks him up and down. 
It sends shivers down his back, man, he just wanted to smoke but he gets harassed by perverts instead. Disgusting. Talk, yeah right, as if he buys it. 
Ajax drops his cigarette to the ground and someone behind him breathes down his neck. “Why so quiet? Now, don’t be a snobby bitch.” The man behind him tries to grab his shoulders.
Alright, that’s it, someone better get ready to receive an elbow in 3, 2–
“AAAAGHHHHHHHHHH!”
There’s a crack, followed by a loud scream and then a thud. Ajax is rooted to the spot but he still tries to turn around and see his– manager? and that weirdo below his foot too. Huh. 
The rest of the gang quirk up, “who the fuck are you? Tsk, pretty boy brought a bodyguard ay?” 
“Let’s shake the fella up real good haha!” The larger man from the group, probably the leader, runs towards the bodyguard (since when?) and tries to land a punch on him except his manager catches it and twists the arm of the burly man with such ease, he couldn’t believe his eyes. Was this really his nerdy as hell grandpa manager? The fuck? This was lowkey hot. 
The burly man is quickly pinned down and receives a bruising punch right under the jaw.
“Scram, now.” Amber eyes looked straight at the group with a dangerous glint. Though the glare was not directed at him, it still made the hairs on his arms stand. 
The threat however, was more than enough for the rest of the creeps to scramble and run like crazy while letting out horrified screams, but that’s not really important. 
Ajax had no idea that his nerdy manager could do that. The man in question looked like a totally different person as he dusted his hands and wiped his glasses that had blood splatters. The glasses…had blood splatters! He punched the creep so hard that it broke skin.
While he was still wrapping his head around whatever that just happened, his manager looked at him with concern and asked him in a voice so low, he could have mistaken it as the wind blowing. “Are you alright, Ajax?” His manager comes closer to him
“Yeah…Thanks errr–” he takes a quick peek at the ID hanging around the other man’s neck “ – Zhongli. Though I was going to elbow ‘em anyway.”
Zhongli raises an eyebrow at that, as if skeptical of Ajax’s fighting skill, but nods anyway and takes off his beige cardigan. “Here, take this. It’s a bit chilly here. Come back inside when you’re done taking a break. I’ll wait here,” he says and takes a seat at the bench nearby. 
Ajax pulls the cardigan on and thinks just maybe his manager isn’t THAT bad after all. Tiny bit less grandpa than before but that doesn’t excuse his “all knowing” personality. 
He huffs and breathes in the scent of the warm cardigan. 
“It’s warm….” Ajax mutters and breathes in the scent of the cardigan. 
.
Ajax Turov, was just like any other senior year high schooler. On the way back home, or more like while wandering around town, wasting time while going back home, he was stopped by a random man. Saying that he had a pretty face and good proportions, gave him his contact details and rambled about how Ajax should participate in the show called the Abyss; an idol survival
He scoffed at it at first, why would he take part in this stupid show, but as he talked about it with his other siblings, they encouraged him to ring up the scout. 
“You’ll get good money just for being on the show!” His elder sister smiled at him excitedly and looked at the other brothers as if urging them to convince him.
“Why not, it’ll be a new experience, and who knows you might become a big shot”
“Our Ajax? A big shot? Ha!”
Ajax Turov took up the offer soon enough.
The show lasted for 3 months and he came out on top. No one expected the redhead, with no prior vocal or dance training to last this long and clear the show with such finesse. Thanks to it, he gained a mass following amongst the media and people loved him. They wanted more of this charming newbie. 
Multiple idol agencies reached out to him, but he decided to choose Fatui Entertainment (since he knew a few of his distant relatives worked there and heard that it was a decent company).
This is how he came to be known as the soloist idol, Tartaglia and within 2 years his popularity skyrocketed becoming the number one idol in Teyvat. Putting the famed Barbara from Mondstadt to shame.
His songs hit the billboard, becoming an international sensation. The boy was an all rounder, from singing, dancing, acting, he nailed it all. So many directors and CEOs from other idol agencies begged on their knees to Fatui Entertainment to have him exchanged. Money was involved, apparently but not much is known. Obviously, the offers were rejected. Instead, the idol Tartaglia participated in many variety shows, runways and dramas. His face was on everything and anything. Kids toys? Check. Perfumes? Check. Sunglasses? Check. Restaurants? Check. The list went on. 
He was basically the next big thing and his agency knew it, and took advantage of it. He is and will be the hottest idol in town from now on and they were ecstatic to have such a rare gem in the palm of their hands. 
But with popularity, there’s a mixture of good and bad press. In the entertainment industry, he got nicknamed as “Childe” due to his bratty personality, or so they claimed. 
“He treats us like shit”
“We don’t exist to him, he’s just a bratty prince who thinks we’re at his beck and call”
“Even those arrogant fictional CEOs are better than him”
“Once, he made me go back to starbucks and get him a new coffee, ‘cuz I couldn’t get his order right”
“Pshhh seriously? That’s nothing. He got pissed at me for being late to pick him up or something. It wasn't even that late”
The alleged ex-staff who worked for him, spread rumours about the idol Tartaglia being high maintenance and badly treating the workers for absolutely no reason. Said that he was an asshole through and through.
Those rumours were quick to disappear thanks to his die hard fans and his agency working behind the scenes to actually show real interactions that the idol Tartaglia would have with his real staff. Which was the complete opposite of how the haters painted it as. Unfortunately, once a rumour goes around it never truly dies down. People were wary of him and hardly any good managers would take the job for him. Those who did were broke, depressed and desperately needed the money and even the slightest of reprimands would have them quitting. 
Zhongli was also one of those broke people who desperately needed a job, freshly graduating university didn’t guarantee him a stable job even with his excellent grades and good words from professors. So he took the job as Tartaglia’s manager, since no one else was willing to. How bad could it be? 
.
“M’kay, that’s enough break time. Let’s go Mr. Zhongli.”
“Of course. Please, keep the cardigan, you seem to be cold.”
“Thanks, by the way, what type of detergent do you use? It smells kinda nice.”
“Hmm… I’ll have to go back home and check, though I’m pretty sure it's actually silk flowers.”
“Ohhhhh– fancy smanshy.”
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some notes: zongzi- is a traditional Chinese rice dish made of glutinous rice stuffed with different fillings and wrapped in bamboo leaves (you'll see foods similar to zongzi in other cultures, some of you may recognise this as chimaki as it is called in Japanese cuisine).
So, I'm definitely planning to continue this, though updates may be irregular since it's currently exam season for me. Anyways come fangirl with me about these guys on my twitter or ao3!! Super obsessed with them and I hope this "phase" never ends. I still have so many more ideas and things that I want to share so let's hope they keep coming!
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cupidsbower · 1 year
Text
a couple of things
Hey friends,
I just wanted to say a couple of things about the Goncharov joke I made the other day:
First, I do not regret it, because I still think it’s hilarious.
But more seriously...
I didn’t try to edit IMDB. It’s a public record and it’s important that we don’t vandalise those. The only reason to try and change or annotate a public record is when they are wrong, and then it’s really important to try and get it changed or annotated. In this case, I just did a very quick editing job with Paint.NET, my free art app of choice.
I waited until Lynda Carter (or her team on her behalf) had already made a joke about Goncharov to show they were in on it, and probably wouldn’t be confused or offended. Once I saw they were likely to get the joke, I went ahead with it.
Once I had posted, I didn’t flag it with Lynda Carter or her team in any way. It’s generally a bad idea to pester celebrities with your own fan works for a lot of reasons -- it can overwhelm and offend to start with, which is reason enough, and what I was concerned about in this case. But depending on the fanwork it can also have legal implications (eg. if they are a writer and you send them a written fanwork, it opens them to a possible copyright infringement lawsuit if they come up with a similar idea off their own bat later). In this case, I just tagged it “Lynda Carter” and she or her team likely found it that way. I’m tickled pink that they did and also thought it was funny and worth a reblog, but it’s not something I sought out.
I also made some changes to the screepcaps I used in the post, which were from Starsky & Hutch. I generally always make some kind of edits to screencaps so they are transformative works. In this case, I changed the colour-grade so they looked more like the right genre, and did a bit of cleaning up and cropping because I just got them from YouTube and the quality wasn’t great.
I wanted to make this post because I’ve seen a few people in the tags wonder who had changed IMDB to add Goncharov to Ms Carter’s page. Maybe they were just making very meta jokes, but in case they weren’t -- I didn’t change anything and IMDB’s entry for Lynda Carter is still barren of Goncharov.
Please don’t try to change public records for a joke. It’s a very terrible idea.
If you see anyone confused by the Goncharov joke I made, please direct them here to put their mind at ease.
Thanks to everyone who enjoyed the joke -- seeing the notifications come in has kept me amused for days now.
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sluttypatrickstar · 1 year
Text
sad bitch journal
december 16, 2022
been thinking about chronicling my depression for a while, guess there's no time like the present to start. no idea what this will be like in the future and i'm not pressuring myself to Write Good for this bcus frankly. No ♥️
i have been chronically depressed for about as long as i can remember but it’s been particularly bad this year since i graduated uni. haven’t found a job and am also unsure of my ability to work so i volunteer at a charity bookshop to try and give myself something to do as well as build up experience. it’s p boring but i love books so i can forgive it. a lot of my shifts are pricing books and seeing if i can fit them onto the shelves (this can be a real battle). crime and thriller is the bane of my existence because they’re overflowing. there are so many crime/thriller books. Help
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today i decided to rearrange the romance section because i noticed a lot of the books had been out for a while and hadn’t sold. you learn a lot about a genre when you’re shelving it. romance is a very colourful genre
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pictured: a mills & boon rrp. i love whoever decided this
i also learned that it’s REALLY hard to tell the difference between romance and cosy women’s fiction because they both look very cosy and have colourful and sweet book spines
after my pretty low-key shift, i bought some books (a really cute book of poe poetry, i’ll be gone in the dark, and the life changing magic of tidying up because i am a Messy Bitch) and met my dad to go to ANOTHER bookshop where i had a click and collect to pick up
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pictured: the good stuff. Books
often i feel really guilty for buying so many books at our shop when i don’t even have an income but i really liked all of today’s finds so it didn’t feel so bad. sometimes i buy books and just wonder what i was thinking
then we went to a bakery and i got a brownie and a cookie/brownie combo which i shall have later and UGH YOU GUYS THIS BROWNIE
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unspeakable joy. delicious. yum. 10/10 cured my soul. so tasty. the world can be hard but it’s all worth it when i get to have some Baking
i headed home after a bit – my dad’s cat, who is going deaf and is very sweet and wants cuddles ALL THE TIME loves plastic bags so spent most of the time licking my bag – and the bus came quickly and got me home quickly. i’m used to bus delays and getting stuck in traffic so i liked that a lot. Zoom
if you’re outside of the uk, then here’s a little bit of context: our postal service, royal mail, is striking throughout december. this means that not only are strike dates affected, but mail is piling up and they have so much to deliver already this month because of christmas post. so there are ofc postal delays! and about 3 weeks ago i ordered a wee colouring book on etsy by an artist called lilmeep. i got their first colouring book for my birthday in the summer and loved it a lot and sent the friend who bought it updates and showed her all my finished pages. so i’ve been waiting for this second book to get here.
i knew there were going to be delays, but i started getting worried that maybe it got lost as it dragged into the 2 weeks since posting mark. i really wanted my new colouring book, i was so excited, when was it going to arrive? and earlier today, as we were into my third week of waiting, i wondered if i should shoot the artist a message next week letting them know that it hadn’t arrived yet jic it had been lost or smthin.
and i got home and went into my bedroom and
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IT’S HERE IT’S SO CUTE I’M SO EXCITED AAAAAAAAA
so yeah. i was just reflecting on how even though my brain is a shitbag and things have been really hard and it’s fuckin COLD and SAD outside, i got to enjoy these moments of colour and joy today. sadness and tiredness still leak into my day, but i was able to find these moments to enjoy, to get all these things i had been looking forward to, to spend time with my dad and his silly little plastic bag loving cat ... joy exists, joy remains, you can still find it
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cthulhudundee · 1 year
Text
So that was an unexpected detour.
I was expecting a few months away from here, it always takes that long when I start a new job – a couple of weeks of ‘I hate this and I’m never coming back’ plus working out what I need to settle into a new work routine.
What actually happened was:
Two weeks in my bad wrist got worse. I couldn’t bend it at all. I wore my brace all weekend but still no relief by Sunday evening. In desperation I played a few minutes of guitar, cursing and swearing all the way from the pain… and it fucking worked dammit.
So I had to start doing a bit of practice everyday, worked up a few simpler pieces, had to buy a suitable chair and look for a guitar rest because I can’t use footstools anymore with my bad hip. Did you know that there is a guitar rest that looks like a giant chopping board that you attach to the back of the instrument?
Still haven’t found one I like but there’s one on ebay I’ll try eventually. Also my nails were really brittle for ‘some reason’ so it was nail hardener and nail care all over. I had to pick the one instrument that requires them.
Thankfully just doing my job has strengthened my wrists to the point where that’s mostly no longer necessary..
Then at work they introduced an app for clocking in and accepting shifts etc. (The company I work for is a zombie of a thing where everything is outsourced and they actually rent me from a recruitment company).
Of course it wouldn’t work on my phone so I had to buy another just for work, then I had to remember to use the damn thing, then it turned out others were having trouble with the app too so they put an ipad in the office and I was using this whole smartphone just for accepting shifts. At least I picked one with an alarm I can find this time.
But that turned out to be OK because then we had a break-in at home and my other phone and wallet were stolen so I just switched to the new phone but had to buy another sim to get my old number ported (all of my 2-factor authentications go to that one, all official communication goes through it) So then I had 2 sims in my phone on 2 different networks (do you think I could remember to keep credit on both?) and I only finally got everything connected back to my original number last month. Only took a year.
And THEN, the week before xmas last year I got rear ended. Second time I’ve had a perfectly good car turned into a repairable write-off by a middle aged bloke who wasn’t paying attention. Being just before xmas/new year meant all the crash repairers were closed for a couple of weeks so I was driving around in an unroadworthy vehicle with an exploded back window covered in plastic.
Luckily there were witnesses (the people in the car in front who I got shunted into - my car was the only one with major damage) and we both claimed on his insurance because I didn’t have any…. He was insured with an industry co-op for people who work in transportation, he drives for a living. I got another car for half the payout amount though so that left me some spare money.
In between all this I discovered my iron and B12 levels had taken a serious dive and I was either close to or officially anaemic, depending on which standard you use. My skin looked exactly the colour of the image on the Wikipedia page for B12 deficiency. I thought I was just getting really tanned! So that explained the brittle nails. Got B12 shots, finally found an iron supplement I can tolerate (it’s liquid! It tastes nice! I don’t get side effects!) Now I have sustagen in my morning coffee and it’s not to make the coffee taste better.
My blood test this October just gone showed I’ve made it into the low normal iron range and many of the symptoms that cleared up over that time are things I have had for my entire life. Hmmmmm.
After that I got onto my first round of allergy blood testing, just finished the second round and the results are that I am allergic to flavour lol. I’m heterozygous for one of the coeliac mutations so 10% chance I’m coeliac. I’m allergic to onion, tomato, potato, sesame and chilli. That’s, like, my entire diet and it means eating take away is near impossible. Also can’t have most gluten free baked goods cos they frequently contain potato starch.
Spent a bit of time trying different ways to hide veg and such in food, tried some kitchen gadgets and have achieved 3 reliable recipes – egg-lemon rice with spinach, lemon herb chicken and decadent porridge. Cheese n crackers and popcorn for snacks. ‘Reliable recipe’ here means a) something I can cook without too much effort and b) something I will actually want to/be able to eat once it’s made. Food shopping has become pretty basic since, and I’ve found a brand of fresh frozen lemon juice that doesn’t contain sulfites so I can go nuts with the lemon juice with no risk to my vitamin B1 levels.
So my diet is still very restricted but it’s completely allergen free and I’ve managed to finally ditch coca cola. I noticed my cravings for it were a bit sus, I’d always want something with gluten after and I’m pretty sure it’s the caramel colouring doing it. Still trying to find ways to increase veggies but fibre capsules are a godsend and my cholesterol is also high. Welcome to early middle age I guess?
In amongst all this I noticed a pattern in my sleeping habits where I would always either fall asleep or wake between 3 and 5 o’clock. Could be a.m. or p.m. but always those hours. I tried setting my alarm for 5am – totally unrealistic hour for my entire life. And IT FUNCKING WORKED! It still drifts a bit because 24 hours has never fit with my sleep-wake rhythm but I don’t suffer in the mornings anymore. I’ve actually had to move it to 4:30 because that’s about when I start waking naturally now.
So that left me feeling liked I’d been body snatched and took a while to stop feeling weird. Really weird. My only issue is sometimes falling asleep too early in the evening but then I just do cooking or whatever when I wake at 12 or 2. I suspect the key to it is that I’m awake for both sunrise and sunset and those are pretty much the only two time cues my brain has ever noticed. Also I’m not sacrificing any quiet time at night, it’s just been shifted to early morning.
And on top of all that my housemate’s sister’s second job was looking for people. I had to turn them down the first time because I still hadn’t sorted out several health issues but they asked again a few months later and I was ready. This is the sort of job I was looking for in the first place (audio transcription rather than data entry but still) but it’s way better than the one I had originally lined up for myself and its $50+ an hour. It’s only 3-7 nights a month so good second job, I get like 2x my regular day job pay if I do a full session
And that left me feeling weirded out again because now I have two jobs that I like, they both pay well, in both I have good bosses, I wake everyday (still not knowing what day it is) looking forward to whatever the day is. I don’t dread mornings anymore or wake up with the thought of ‘not again’.
Some massive changes for the good this last year and also I finally cracked crochet and knitting. But important to note, I think, that the main thing that made these huge gains possible was having a livable amount of money coming in. I regularly drop $200 at a time at the chemist and I have to be able to afford that, never mind the specialists I have to see and my GP clinic no longer bulk bills.
Getting a job was literally what enabled me to move forward while Centrelink payments kept me sick because I couldn’t afford food that wouldn’t make me sick or even the testing required to find out which foods were causing it.
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bunny-rambles · 2 years
Note
Fluffy 29 Kaeya
29 - “I didn’t know you could sing.”
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
characters; Kaeya, gn reader
cw/tw; mutual pining, Kaeya being a tease, fluff, let me know if I missed anything
word count; just over 1k
notes; not much to say with this one hehe, it’s fluffy n cute n I hope you enjoy <3
event: 200 milestone
Please reblog if you like this!! (Since the tags aren’t showing peoples works sometimes, I would really appreciate reblogs now more than ever, thank you <3)
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1, 2, 3…
You had begun to count each one of the glass tubes that were sitting neatly in their boxes, or lined along the shelves. Some had vibrant coloured liquids encased, trapped and protected from the outside world, perhaps too beautiful to be unleashed just yet. Others were empty, yet they still shone like the finest crystals from the amount of times they had been polished. By you.
Stuck for hours with nothing to do, it’s no wonder you found such fascination with the most mundane objects. Everyone but you had something important to do in the headquarters. Eula and Amber were out scouting, Albedo and Sucrose had gone to Dragonspine, even Jean and Lisa had gone out of Mondstat for some ‘important mission’. Although, you were fairly certain Lisa had disguised it that way to give the master some fully deserved vacation time. And of course, your best friend Kaeya Alberich was also on one of those ‘urgent missions’.
When you were originally given the task of looking after the city, you were delighted. They finally saw you as responsible enough for such a big task! But when the most dangerous thing you've had to do all day was look for a lost cat that had a bit of a temper, the excitement died down rather quickly. So here you were, in one of the many laboratories in the library, looking for something to do.
4, 5, 6…
You let out a groan when you started to lose count, head hitting the desk in defeat. It was barely even midday and you were already mind-numbingly bored. ‘What would Kaeya do?’ You wondered to yourself, but you already knew the answer and there was no way you were getting wasted. What if something important happened? You’re not the irresponsible type, and Jean asked you specifically to look after Mondstat. You had to prove you were trustworthy before you even thought of slacking off.
Maybe the library had something? You had read most of them from your time being in the knights, but it couldn’t hurt to try looking for something. Determined to keep yourself entertained, you stood from your seat and left to explore the vast collection of books the other room had to offer.
Your fingers trailed carefully over the worn spines of each book, eyeing the titles that were engraved there. Not much was enticing you, since you had read most of the good ones already. The fond memories of nearly facing Lisa’s wrath because you had a bad habit of folding the ends of the pages instead of just using a bookmark. Even if she wasn’t around, you still felt a chill run down your spine from the look she gave you that day.
And then your gaze landed on one of your favourites - a romance, that you so lovingly tucked behind two larger books so no one else could take it. It was still there in the makeshift hiding spot, waiting for you to just reach out and take it. And you did just that. Tucking yourself away in a quiet corner, you flipped to your favourite chapter, the moment where the two characters share their first kiss. Yes, you were a cheesy romantic at heart. The first few lines made your heart flutter, and your thoughts drifted to a certain someone re-enacting the same scene with you.
A quiet chuckle escaped your lips. Maybe in your wildest dreams, but you doubt it would ever come true. You hummed a small tune as you read, deeply engrossed in the tale you had read countless of times. You hadn’t even realised your quiet voice had grown louder, or that your mouth had started forming words. You were in your own little world and this library was your stage. The only thing stopping you from stepping on the desks was the threat of being electrocuted by the chief librarian.
“Well, isn’t this a pleasant surprise.”
You stopped mid sentence at the familiar voice, letting out a startled yelp instead. You were certain the book had hit the ceiling from how hard you threw it.
“Kaeya?!”
“I didn’t know you could sing.“
“Sing? Me? Ha! No, what are you talking about?”
Your nervousness got the better of you from seeing your friend again. Any reason you could use to excuse your behaviour had been emptied from your head, your mind a blank slate from the smirk the captain was giving you.
“What a wonderful voice. Why don’t you sing more often, hm?” Kaeya hummed, sitting up from the doorway he had been leaning against and sauntering his way towards you. Speechless, you stepped backwards until your back hit against one of the many bookshelves, face to face with the man you had just been fantasising about.
“I… Uh…” He chuckled when you tripped over your words, a hand reaching out to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear carefully.
“I would love to hear you sing for me.”
Your face was starting to turn a violent shade of crimson from his words, putting your hand on his chest to push him away but it only made him lean in further. One of his hands snaked around your waist, pulling your body flush against his own.
“A pretty voice for a pretty person…” His lips were close (so close you could almost-)
The knight pulled away slowly, a twinkle of mischief shimmering in his eye. “I think you could put some of the best bards out of business.”
“Shut up…” He laughed, and even you couldn’t help the curl of your lip at the melodic sound.
“Sorry, sunshine. No more teasing. But I wasn’t lying, you sound beautiful.”
“…Thank you.” You finally mumbled, tilting your head up to properly look at him. No more was that smirk, in its place a sweet smile, a genuine one at that - one that made you fall in love all over again. And when he held out his hand for you to hold, just like one of the main protagonists in the book, you knew one thing;
This was a fairytale that you wished had a real happily ever after.
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finelinevogue · 3 years
Note
Can you write something about when Harry and Y/N broke up but fans speculate that they got back together and they did get back together. They broke over something stupid, please. You don’t have to do this exactly it can be something like that.
let’s see how this turns out! hope it’s what you wished for?!
The last few months had been rough.
What had started as rumours of a breakup between everyones favourite couple, you and Harry, had turned into an actual breakup.
It had started by Harry spending more time with Olivia, due to press for Don’t Worry Darling. They were always hanging out with each other, even when there was no publicity stunt telling them to. You found it appropriate at first, wanting the movie to gain some form of reputation, but after a while you believed it turned South. It was becoming a definite friendship and not just because they had to. It was the way that Harry would bring Olivia over for dinner without checking with you first, or taking the dog for a walk with her not you, or even staying longer out on stunts than they needed to just because they wanted to.
So you challenged Harry on it. Hell, even the tabloids were challenging you both - claiming Harry had split from you for Olivia. You made him question whether he thought his actions were irresponsible and appropriate or not, to which he thought there was nothing wrong and thought you were being irrational. You didn’t speak to him for the rest of the day, only to find him later on the phone speaking to Olivia about how crazy you’d been acting about it all. So you showed him crazy and walked out.
Until today.
For over a half a year your sister had her wedding planned and Harry was supposed to be your guest. You were nervous about turning up without him, because your family were very judgy. Your sister couldnt help being the smarter and the prettier one, but she also didn’t have to parade it around so everyone knew of it. Your mum and dad thought you a disappointment for the longest time, but once you’d gotten a job and had moved out they were a bit more loving over you. Still didn’t hide the fact they desperately hoped for you to have a relationship. It wasn’t that you were bringing Harry along to prove that someone loved you, but more to prove that they would never fully be satisfied whether you had a boyfriend or not. There would always be a podium stand slightly lower for you to stand on.
However, they didn’t know about the breakup.
“Y/N, nice to see you. Where’s Harry?” Another guest asked you, relatives of your mum. It was the same question over and over again, no one really caring about how you are but instead whether you’re in a positive relationship.
“Oh um I think he’s just running a bit late.” Was your chosen answer to respond to said question. It was repetitive, but it kept people off your back.
The wedding was completely beautiful. It was in a beautiful church and was decorated to perfection. The theme was white and royal blue, something your sister had always dreamed of. Children played amongst the pews and family relatives mumbled to each other about gossip. There was still a heavy sadness to the event. Maybe it was because your sister hadn’t asked you to be a bridesmaid - instead, choosing her best friends instead - or maybe it was because you missed Harry so much.
He’d fucked up. He really had, but it didn’t take away that burning passion for him that spread like a wildfire in your belly. You missed him. You still loved him. Worst of all, you had to pretend everything was all alright in front of your family when actually you were breaking apart inside.
Harry hadn’t messaged saying that he was or wasn’t coming, but after everything that had happened you were confident he was going to be a no show, and you would be the embarrassment of the family once again. Your relationship had been very private and exclusive, but Harry’s fans were so investigative you wouldn’t be surprised if they knew that you’d broken up and were aware that you were at a wedding today without him. Neither of you had made a public statement about your breakup, but neither of your wanted to damage each other even more. Fans suspected though and rumours travel fast.
“Y/N how are you doing? How’s Harry?” Another aunt came and asked you, this time with your mother in tow.
“Oh he’s great, yes.” You smiled forcefully, not actually having a clue how your ex-boyfriend was doing. You didn’t keep up with his social media because you were afraid of what you might find.
“Where is he? Is he here?” Your aunt asked.
“He’s late, apparently.” Your mother answered for you, sneeringly. “You’ll be made a fool of if he’s a no show Y/N.”
“I know.”
“I hope everything goes well for you both.” Your aunt kindly said, before waiting for your mum to say something nice too. That was a mistake though.
“Well it’s unlikely she’ll find someone again!” Your mother laughed and pulled your aunt away from you. You furrowed your eyebrows and let your heart sink low.
What were you thinking, letting Harry go like that? Your mum was right, you were never going to find anyone else again. You were so lucky with Harry. He was so kind and so patient with you, but obviously he’d run out of steam towards the end. It doesn’t surprise you. You’ve always been told you’re a mighty handful and you need a lot of work put into looking after you, so you understand why you were probably too much for Harry. The showbiz life had never really been something you’d completely submerged yourself into, whereas you guess for Olivia it was rooted in her from birth. She understood Harry’s world the same way he did hers. They would match perfectly for each other, if that’s what they wanted.
You watched the room continue as usual, but you couldn’t keep yourself here. There was too much sadness welling deep within you that you wanted to just run and then keep running. So you did, only to get as far as the bench in the front courtyard. The outside felt calmer and more freeing than inside, you sat and absorbed it for a while, not realising that you were crying until your pretty multicoloured dress had grown darker with a pool of your tears.
“Shit.” You tried rubbing the tears out, but only made you cry a little harder. You thought about your makeup running and tried to compose yourself, fanning your face to calm it down from the heat now.
“And here I was thinking weddings were supposed to be happy.”
You stopped fanning your face to look at him. You couldn’t believe he was standing there, dressed in a beautiful white suit and salmon pink shirt underneath to compliment the colours of your dress - the outfit that you’d helped him pick out over a year ago. He’d remembered. He trusted that you’d still be wearing this dress. He was a sight alright. A vision of beauty and love.
“Harry?” You questioned, wiping your under eyes to clear away any running mascara, not quite believing he was standing there.
“So what was it? Bad music playing? No vodka? Or maybe there’s nowhere for you to escape to go read the book I know you have stuffed away in your clutch bag.” He stood at a distance from you, hands in his trouser pockets, to make sure you were comfortable.
“I brought vodka instead of the book.” You chuckled, reaching into your clutch to prove it to him.
“Lucky for you, i’ve come to save the day.” Harry reached to the inside of his blazer pocket and pulled out a Kindle. You’d always been debating whether or not to buy one, because the feeling of having a book to turn its’ physical pages is a feeling second to none. “Take it, it’s yours.”
Harry handed it out to you and you stood up to reach for it hesitantly. Harry assured you that it was okay and that you’d been reading too many books if you thought it was a trap of some sort.
“Thank you, Harry.” You spoke sincerely. You stroked your thumb over the cover and turned the case lid over to start up the screen. The screen lit up and it was set to a picture of your favourite quote, annotated just as you would have in your own book. You chuckled and let a few tears drop from the kindness of all of this.
“And then…” Harry unlocked the Kindle with your birthday as the password, before clicking on the library so you could discover what was waiting for you on your virtual shelves. Harry had downloaded all your most favourite books, whilst also downloading the ones he knew had been on your to-be-read list. He’d even added a few of his favourite books too, just because you liked reading his recommendations.
You smiled, but felt so lost.
“W-why are you here, H?” You asked, closing the lid and bravely looking up into his enchanting eyes. You had to control yourself not to comment on how wondrous they looked.
“To save the day.” He chuckled in repeat, until he knew you weren’t taking that for an answer. “Because I fucked up. Big league time.”
“Yeah.” You whispered, looking down at your shoes to see that they weren’t that far apart at all. He was so close to you, yet he wasn’t yours to catch.
“And i’ll never forgive myself for letting you walk out of that door. The promotion shit with Olivia? Done. I’ve finished. I explained that the movie isn’t as important to me as you. You,” Harry paused to breathe out, and took the risk of guiding your jaw up to meet your gaze with his soft hand, “you are real Y/N. You’re so important and key to my life and it bloody terrified me, still does actually, to think that you make me feel this way. I want everything with you. Marriage, kids, a home. A life. I was so worried I would screw it all up, though, to the point where I did screw it all up. I lost you and so I lost me. It’s selfish of me to ask whether any part of your heart still wants me, but—”
“Yes.” You quickly interjected before he could say something he’d later regret. “There is, yes.”
“R-really?” He stumbled over his response, not expecting you to react so soon but his words had got to you. His feelings were vulnerable and raw and it reminded you of how much you love him and feel safe with him.
“Why? Would you like me to say different.” You teased.
“No,” Harry rushed, stepping closer towards you, “God now. Stay, please. Forever, if you’ll have me?”
“I can deal with forever.” You leaned up to where his lips were, craving the taste of them against yours so badly. “Can I?” You looked between his lips and his eyes, watching his eyes coo in admiration of you. His arms snaked around your neck and cupped the back of your head, resting his ringed fingers against your skin delicately.
“You don’t have to ask, angel.” And with that you didn’t hesitate to reclaim your clips on his. He tasted as sweet and as soft as you could remember. The hint of mint sweets he kept in his car could be tasted all over his mouth, and he could no doubt taste the vodka on yours. He took no time in rushing to have his tongue exploring your mouth once mouth, biting on your lip when he got the chance to. He wanted you to remember this moment and how much love he has for you, and always will. Just as you do for him.
Hesitantly pulling away you smiled at him cheekily, feeling so much lighter and happier to have him here. With you in his arms so expertly.
“What?” He asked, leaving a quick kiss to your nose, inhaling his scent as he did.
“Just can’t believe you’re here.” You stroked his cheek with your thumb, and he leaned into your touch so comfortably. He had missed you so damn much, and it showed.
“Let you down once before and I wasn’t going to do it again.”
“So you’d have shown up even if I hadn’t?”
“Not happily, but yes.” He laughed thinking about it.
“Why?” You laughed with him.
“I’ve got to make my impression on your family somehow. Need to remind some of them how amazing and beautiful their special Y/N L/N is.”
“Some are going to need a lot more persuading than others.” You sighed, side-frowning over your words.
“No offence, but anyone who doesn’t treat you as a fucking diamond doesn’t deserve you and should watch out for kick up their backside from me.” You laughed over his empty threat and buried your head against his chest, listening to the heartbeat and rumble of laughter that came from within. This moment alone felt like home. Safe and warm.
“I love you, H.”
“Bloody love you too.”
Harry ended up returning to the wedding with you, much to your mothers surprise, and you both enjoyed the celebrations together. You shut yourselves out from everybody and just danced, talked and drank the night away.
You were so in love.
Later, photos got leaked of the wedding and it showed you and Harry dancing away in one of the backgrounds of the photos. It was supposed to be a shot of just the bride and groom, but you two have managed to get caught in it. You looked so caught up in each other that you still weren’t even aware the photo had been taken. You and Harry had determinedly avoided the camera all night, exactly for this reason, but a part of you was kind of happy that this one photo got leaked, because it showed the world that Harry was yours and you were his. It showed that you were together, or back-together as addressed by some FBI fans, and that you were stronger for it.
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fuckingthefictional · 3 years
Note
Hi! I would like a request about Derek from teen wolf, please. The reader is trying to approach him, taking care of him "because Derek is too busy taking care of the others", BUT IT'S BEING SO HARD because of all of his past. Derek and the reader argue one night because of the overprotective nature of the reader about him, and when she tries to leave the loft, completely upset with Derek, he tries to fix things between them. Could you do this with a lot of angst and, then, tons of fluff? Thanks!
Ignored
Pairing: Derek Hale x Reader
Warnings: Angst bbyyyy, and some fluffy goodness at the end, not checked over (so probably a crap ton of spelling errors)
A/N: hello hope you enjoy, sorry it took forever! I’m so busy with work, college and personal issues that writing has been put on the back-burner.
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When the name Derek Hale was mentioned- one immediately thought of the broody, salty, sarcastic young man who lived by himself after the tragic Hale house fire.
Nobody would ever associate the name Derek Hale and caring. It just wasn’t in his nature. Because under no circumstances could Derek be remotely kind, caring or soft in any way possible.
That’s what people thought of Derek. But not you- or the majority of the pack for that matter.
Yes, you saw where others came from with their ideas and judgement (Derek’s lack of colour in his wardrobe obviously didn’t help either).
But to you when you heard the name Derek Hale, you immediately thought of the kind hearted man who would give up anything for the safety of his friends and family (as much as he claimed otherwise).
You knew him differently, you knew him like the back of your hand. You knew that his favourite food was Spagetti Carbonara without the mushrooms, that he didn’t like Coca Cola, that he secretly loved watching trashy tv shows like keeping up with the kardashians, and most importantly that he was running himself ragged.
He had bitten off more than he could chew when it came to helping everyone out. He was the one giving lifts and helping with homework and hosting pack nights, and handling Isaac’s nightmares, all of this happening at the same time as some supposed lizard creature being on the loose.
You had been ignored by Derek Hale for approximately 72 hours. Now this wouldn’t be bad if it weren’t for two things.
1. He wasn’t aware that he was actively ignoring you.
2. The idiot wasn’t your husband of 2 years.
Over 68 hours ago you hadn’t minded, you had even brushed the silence and distance off- knowing that Derek liked to have a little time to himself.
But when it hit the 5 hour mark of the 4th day, frustration and disappointment had begun to set in.
There was one more thing that made the whole situation worse. He was blatantly ignoring you- and only you.
It hurt. You could admit that to yourself easily without any qualms at all. It hurt.
Whether that was to do with the whole ‘mate’ side of things you didn’t know- all that you did know was that Derek Hale was drowning and he wasn’t going to swim until everyone else was okay.
-
Thud, thud, thud, creaak
“Der please sit down”
“I can’t. I gotta figure this shit out before the school finishes for the day.” Derek grunted from his spot in the middle of the room. His head firmly stuck in the thick, dusty book that he had been pouring through for the majority of the afternoon.
“Der please, take a break.” You pleaded with him, begging him to just stop for a second and relax.
“I can’t,” Derek murmured again, before he pivoted in his heel and walked away up the staircase.
His heavy footfalls retreated upstairs, the musty book still clutched in his grasp.
Swallowing the lump in your throat, you willed the tears in your eyes to stay put and to not roll down your cheeks in fat drops.
Why couldn’t you be enough for him?
-
The next plea came around 2 hours later, when you brought a bowl of homemade pasta and garlic bread up to Derek. Hoping that just maybe it would strike up a conversation, that maybe he would utter more than two short sentences to you.
“Babe- I made you lunch.” You elbowed your way into the room, balancing the bowl and plate in your hands.
“Just leave it on the desk.” He motioned to an empty slot on the overcrowded surface.
“I just thought that maybe we could have lunch together, have some time with each-other.”
“Y/N/N’s I would- but I have so much to do. Stiles and Scott are already on my ass about the damn lizard freak in town.”
“Der, you need to take a break.” You placed your hands on his shoulders. Instead of feeling them relax you could feel his muscles tense up.
Shrugging your hands off, he pushed the fresh plate of food away, “I can’t.” He spoke simply.
“But-“ you tried to object in protest, trying to plead with the broad shouldered man in front of you- hoping that maybe, just maybe he would come to his senses.
He did not.
“I said no Y/N.” Derek ground out, “I’m busy. Please for the love of God stop bothering me.”
The words stung you, causing you to stumble back in shock. Derek had a hard exterior, everybody knew that. But he had never spoken like that to you.
He had promised on your wedding day that he would always be kind, that he would be your biggest supporter and largest source of love.
But all those words felt like lies now. You felt alone, like an empty shell of yourself. Why couldn’t you just be enough?
-
Hours flew by, the watch on Derek’s wrist occasionally beeping to signify the new hour. If he were being honest- he had lost track of what the time was.
The only signifier was that Stiles, Scott and the others were in his presence- meaning it was at least 4pm
And judging by the sky outside of his office window, it was late evening, as the sky itself had melted from cool blues into a fantastic array of oranges and purples.
But besides the low chatters and bickering coming from Isaac and Stiles, the house felt almost too quiet.
There was no tv hum coming from the living room, no occasional flush or running of water from the restroom, no sizzle from food coming on the oventop, no sound of a page in a book turning. Nothing. Just silence.
“Hey Derek,” He looked up to see Scott staring at him, “Where’s Y/N?”
“Well-“
“Yeah, I haven’t seen her yet today.” Isaac chimed in.
“I’m not actually too sure.”
Derek was met with a sea of blank stares.
“I’m sorry- there’s a kanima out there roaming Beacon Hills, the very same kanima that is killing more people by the day. And you don’t know where your wife is?” Stiles asked incredulously, “Are you kidding me.”
“Well I’ve been so caught up on this research that I haven’t been spending as much time with her.” Derek attempted to defend himself.
“Derek, please tell me that you haven’t been ignoring your wife.”
Everybody had there eyes on him again.
“Well-“
There was an uproar of protests, all of which were yelling at Derek for ignoring and deserting his wife.
“You better find her Derek, before something happens and you regret it for the rest of your life.”
-
You really didn’t know how long you had been out here for. All you knew was that the night was closing in and the chill was setting in your bones.
But you didn’t want to go back to the loft, you honestly didn’t think you could handle seeing Derek after his outburst earlier.
The cold, damp ground soaked into your body- sucking all the warmth out of your body at a creeping pace.
The spot you sat in, hadn’t changed much since your first date with Derek. It was still isolated and it gave off the best views in Beacon Hills. Nobody knew about it but you and Derek.
Sighing deeply, you looked out over the viewing point- watching the tiny specks of light flicker in the distance. Every single light showed a different life that was being lived, each one with their own struggles. Beacon Hills was something else to say the least.
“I knew I could find you here.” A familiar voice broke your train of thought.
You kept silent, staring straight ahead, willing that your bottom lip wouldn’t start trembling and the flood gate wouldn’t open in your eyes.
“Look I’m sorry.”
You sniffed, still unable to look your husband in the eyes, “Are you though?” You briefly shut your eyes to stop any tears from breaking through, “or are you just saying that to get on my good side.”
You could feel Derek’s presence settle down besides your own. His breath creating little puffs of mist under the dark sky.
“I didn’t realise you were trying to help me, until it was too late and you’d left the apartment” He muttered, “It’s my fault, I should’ve taken your advice, I should’ve listened to you.”
You listened intently, knowing his words were sincere and heartfelt, “Why didn’t you listen to me then Der?” You responded bitterly.
“Because accepting help means showing weakness, and showing weakness is something I haven’t done since before the fire.” Derek’s voice was small now, “Before I met you, accepting help was off the table- I was a lone wolf, with no pack or family. And now I’ve found you and I’m desperate to not lose that again, I can’t lose you to this new threat in town- I can’t be alone again.”
Silence hung heavy in the air as your husband’s words set in. It made sense to you; why he was studying non-stop, why he had barely slept or ate.
It was apparent that while he was trying to protect his loved ones, he was also pushing them away in the process. That needed to change.
“You won’t be alone Der,” You lay your head down on his shoulder, “I promise that much- it’s you and me forever.”
“Through every supernatural event that happens in this town?”
You giggled softly, “Yes, and every single thing in between.”
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thesunicarusfellfor · 3 years
Note
Hello my beloved! ( Can I call you that? And people it's platonic!) I have an idea and this is for pogtopia wilbur and ghostbur! Can you do a reader who loves painting and one morning they find a picture of them with a note about the reader confessing to then but they didn't do it in person because they were really nervous? Thank you!
And please take as much time as you want also could it be a long story? Thank you!
- Your beloved Moosh 🥺
Moosh, darling! Hello! Yes, you have my full permission to call me that, thank you for asking! This is the third time I've written this story because Tumblr just really enjoys screwing me over...
Also. You never clarified whether you wanted fluff or angst, but it's Pogtopia Wilby so I kinda just went with angst? If you want a happy end to this, I'll rewrite this no problem! But it won't be as long because... Well, you'll see. Also also, I didn't exactly know where to throw the Ghosty Bur in, so... Yeaaaah? He's at the end tho!
THE FIRST PART IS LIKE NEW NEW POGTOPIA WILBUR
TW: (Sorry it didn't save the first time) C!Schlatt, bruising, threatened hanging, self doubt
Perfect Picture of Imperfection (Pogtopia!C!Wilbur x GN!Painter!Reader)
Maybe you painted Schlatt's horns the wrong colour? Or his jawline was off? He was furious when you finally showed him your art piece... It was the best you could do with the few hours you were given! Paint physically couldn’t dry as fast as Schlatt wanted it to you… He didn’t seem to care when he threw the wooden frame of the torn canvas at you, giving you a dark bruise right above your eye, or when he started yelling at you and threatening to burn your art studio down to the ground.
Or even when he grabbed you and suggested to Quackity to hang you at the gallows for insulting the emperor of Manberg.
The man you had once been friends with grinned widely and nodded happily, “Yes, sir! Yes, sir!” He said, without a single care that you were a living human being, only giving a cheer as he picked you up so your feet were dangling on the ground, leaving you silent in terror. Tubbo only averted his gaze.
“Aww… You’re like a little fawn, caught in the torchlight of a traveller.” The ram hybrid smiled in a sickly sweet manner, causing the colour to drain from your face, “Come now, darling, I’m not a monster… You’re the only one of Wilbur’s sweet little subjects that he hasn’t gotten back, and here I thought you were his favourite… Or maybe he left you here to act as a sacrifice so they could all be off doing their own thing... Guess he prefers Niki over you…” He whispered as he dropped you, chuckling softly as you scurried out of the building as you quite literally ran for your life.
You called Wilbur when you were safely hidden in your house, gasps and sobs leaving your mouth quicker than tears could pool out of your eyes…
“(Y/n)... You can’t be calling me when-”
“Wil…?” You whispered into the communicator, your voice shaking enough to shut him up immediately, “He… He’s going to…” Hiccuping meekly, you curled in tighter on yourself as you heard Schlatt’s loud and pompous voice come over the speaker system he had hung up all around the once beautiful country, “I think I’m going to die here…”
The dead silence that followed through the line was sickening…
“Is it true…?” You couldn’t help but find yourself wondering aloud, “Is that why I’m the only one left here? Am I a sacrifice so you can live happily elsewhere? ...Is that why you haven’t come to get me?”
“(Y/n), I want you to never utter those words again.” His voice was dark and steely as there was a bit of crashing around that came from the other side as well as faint mumbles which were clearly from Tommy judging by all the swearing, “You are not a sacrifice. Now... Get your Enderchest and Inventory packed up, I’m coming to get you tonight, and then I’ll explain in person…”
The line cut off and you slowly lowered the communicator down from beside your ear. Your heart was sinking one minute, but soaring the next… A terrible feeling really. You were saved! But… He could get caught trying to come to get you… You couldn’t let that happen for sure. With a heavy sigh, you rubbed your eyes free of tears before standing up and beginning to shove any necessary equipment into your Enderchest, including your finished painting of Wilbur that you were going to give to him when he won the election… And finally, confess your feelings…
When midnight hit and the lights of the city finally died down, you climbed up onto your roof and looked around for the president, fear and paranoia flooding through your veins as your mind went wild. What if he got caught? What if he was trying to give you false hope? What if. What if. What if. These sort of questions buzzed around in your mind for an hour as you waited for your saviour to arrive…
Finally, when enough became enough and you decided he wasn’t coming, you stopped pacing and slowly sat down on the roof as the tears began to start again. You could practically hear Schlatt chiding you in the back of your mind, telling you that you were a fool for holding out hope.
“(Y/n)!” A low hiss came from beside you and a hand touched your shoulder. You certainly would’ve screamed bloody murder if another hand hadn’t quickly wrapped around your mouth, “Sh, sh, sh, it’s me… It’s Wilbur.” The voice soothed softly as the hand left your mouth, quickly allowing you to turn your head.
It didn’t feel real… Seeing him after so long… And in an outfit other than his uniform. “Wil...bur?” You repeated, staring at him for a while before giving him a soft smile filled with relief, “You really came…”
“Of course I did!” He almost seemed offended for a moment before his eyes softened as he realized what Schlatt must’ve drilled into your head. Wilbur easily caught you as you flung your self at him, quickly wrapping his arms around you and burying his face in your (h/l) (h/c) hair, “I missed my artiste…” He whispered, donning a temporary french accent for the word ‘artist’.
Holding back a sob, you quickly grabbed his extended hand and followed him as he jumped off your roof, safely landing in a bed of hay that you used to feed your old farm animals that Schlatt confiscated before following him out of this damned country.
After that, things seemed to change between you and Wilbur. He always seemed to be at your side, choosing to personally train you rather than letting Techno train you with everyone else, or even running over ideas on how to expand Pogtopia with you rather than with Tommy. His touches always lingered longer or he somehow wound up leaning closer to you than originally necessary, but you never caught yourself complaining. He would watch you paint beautiful designs along the armour he had gifted you, knowing full well it would chip off and was heavily unnecessary, but he only smiled and let you continue doing it as long as it didn’t interfere with enchantments.
Each day with Wilbur became better and better, but your heart physically couldn’t take it any longer, you had to tell him that you felt this way for him… The way that you had to fight back the reddening of your cheeks when his chest pressed against your back as he adjusted your stance in training, or the way you had to struggle to regulate your breathing every time he complimented you on how far you had come…
He was going to be the death of you…
Your already calloused hands were bruised and blistered, but somehow, you were still able to hold a quill, pinched in between the fingers of your dominant hand. Wilbur had come to your Pogtopia home this morning, but upon realizing that he had knocked you to the ground a little too hard yesterday as you were incredibly stiff and sore, he let you have the day off of training.
This was at least a little chance… You had torn a page from your notebook and sat down at your handmade desk with a bitter sigh. Trust me, you wanted to tell him in person, but you were just too scared… Plus, maybe you could play it off as someone pulling a prank on him if it went south.
Biting your lip, your fingers treated the quill as a brush, delicately running the ink dipped tip over the top of the paper, letting your heart control what words you wanted the ink to form.
Wilbur,
You don't realize how much you mean to me. Although we've been friends for only a year, I feel as though I've known you my entire life. My connection to you is already so deep, and my love for you is already so strong that I can't remember what my life was like before we met. Even more, I can't imagine my life without you now. I can't imagine the future without you, either.
You have saved my life several times already. You have even saved me from myself several times, too! I am so thankful for your guidance and care. Whenever I'm having a bad day, I know that I can just give you a call. I know I can depend on you and, with your help, everything will turn out well.
I want you to know how I really feel. It's time for you to know that I'm ready to admit how much I care for you, how much you mean to me. I know, this isn’t the best timing in our lives, but I trust it will get better through your leadership. I love you, Wilbur.
Please, don't ever forget how much I love you.
Love, (Y/n) (L/n)
Sighing, you put the quill into the inkpot and put your head in your bandaged hands. ‘This is going to work. It will work. Go on. Have faith in yourself, as Wil said…’ You took a few deep breaths and stood up, picking up the letter once it was dry and reading it over as many times as you physically could before your mind couldn’t handle it any longer.
Walking to the door, you cracked it open to search for any sign of your president, sighing again as you realized he was likely out helping gather resources. “Is… This enough?” You mumbled sadly as you stared down at the simple letter before looking at your Enderchest in thought. Surely you could give him a few emeralds or some gold… Yeah! That’s what you’d do! Smiling in victory, you quickly wandered over to the chest and opened it, digging through it for a few moments.
It was sort of empty…
You groaned as you remembered that you haven’t really been one of the miners or forgers for Pogtopia. Instead, you were one of the warriors, focused on protecting others instead of gathering supplies.
Going to shut the chest, you suddenly paused as you saw something colourful resting at the bottom. Pushing aside your old L’Manberg uniform, you gasped as you found your old painting of Wilbur from a few months ago. It was old, yes, and a little dusty but you were still proud of it even now! Perfect.
Pulling out the painting, you began to lightly brush the dust off of the picture, smiling at the splashes of paint and colour forming a picture. It was your magnum opus.
It was a painting of Wilbur holding up a massive L’Manberg flag against the sunlight with a wide smile and hope in his eyes… This was the day that L’Manberg won independence from DreamSMP…
Standing up again, you quickly hurried out the door and walked to Wilbur’s room, silently creaking open the door and looking around, even though you were well aware that he was gone for the day. You walked over to his desk and gently setting the painting down on top of the countless sheets of work, making sure not to mix up any of the papers, then putting your letter on top where he could see it before hurrying out before you could change your mind.
Thankfully you got out when you did because, by the time you pulled an already baked potato out of the furnace, Wilbur came down the stone stairs, looking extremely exhausted, “(Y/n), my artiste…” He murmured with a smile, “I’m glad to see you’re still up and going… I was worried we would have to make you a healing pot.”
“It’s not too bad… It’s mostly just my hands that hurt.” You chuckled and held up your shaking bandaged hands, “You want me to cook you up some potatoes and carrots? Or I could maybe try and get some steak cooked up before you go to work?”
Wilbur tried to smile a bit, deciding not to question why your hands were shaking so badly, taking everything out of his inventory and placing them in their designated chests. “No, no… It’s alright. I’m going to go get ready for Tubbo’s report… I’ll see you later tonight, okay?”
You gave him a small wave before Wilbur disappeared into his office. Taking a sharp intake of breath, you quickly followed after him and peeked through the tiny crack in the door where he didn’t close it all the way. He stood in his room silently for a moment before throwing his hat off at a wall, screaming into hands, muffling it heavily to the point where you wouldn’t have heard it if you were still near the furnaces. Wilbur threw off his jacket before plopping himself into his chair with his head in his hands for a few moments, then lifting it to stare at the painting that you had placed.
He was still for a long time, then he slowly picked up the note, his eyes softened slightly before his face broke out into a wide and genuinely happy smile before his mouth twitched and the smile began to fall, tears bubbling into his chocolate coloured eyes. Wilbur held the note up to his chest and slouched back against his chair, sobbing into his hand, whispering ‘I’m so sorry’ repeatedly.
Frowning, you realized that he physically couldn’t return your love because of the stress of caring for Pogtopia and trying to win back L’Manberg. With a sad smile, you stood up and walked to your room, putting your head down as you saw water droplets hit the stone below you, “It wasn’t a no…” You tried to tell yourself, ignoring the tears running from your eyes as you shut the door, sliding down to your knees.
The next few weeks after that were hell, the complete opposite of the Utopia that you were blinded by for the past month. Wilbur asked Techno to pick up your training, and he never even spoke to you about it again… It was the Piglin hybrid that awkwardly told you. During dinner, Wilbur would practically eat as little as possible as he ignored you, trying to make any situation where he would be in the same room as you as short as possible.
“Wil-...” You reached out to the president but watched as he only gave you the saddest gaze before walking past you as if he never saw you. But he would have no problems talking to Niki, or anyone else! It wasn’t fair!
Time ticked by in a haze of fog and you quickly watched the man you had once fallen in love with becoming a complete shadow of his former self… It was sickening… He… Lost it… His mind was becoming twisted… And all you could do was watch in horror…
You knew something was wrong when he crept away from the festival and the celebration… But you just decided that he was going to take a break from the excitement. He was quite old after all…
Then the ground shook with booming roars as TNT blew craters into the earth, sending debris scattering and people screaming, scattering for their lives. Gasps of terror escaped your lips as you realized the cause of it all… You hopped over gunpowder scented broken stone and batted the smoke away as you saw the final picture to paint the last stroke of horror in your heart.
There was a blond man with massive avian wings holding a diamond sword glimmering with enchantments as the brunet clung to his clothing, slowly sinking to his knees. With a sob of despair, you watched the man you once loved so dearly, get stabbed through the chest by his own father.
“WILBUR!” You shrieked, your ears ringing from the blast as you sunk to your knees, sobs racking your frame violently. Wilbur’s head lazily rolled to look in your direction…
And in his last dying breath… He smiled…
-
“That painting…” A light airy whisper echoed through the darkened stone halls of your home, “It’s familiar… Yet so foreign...”
You gave a hum as you hung your netherite armour on your stand before turning to stare at the spectral figure floating in your doorway, “Which painting, Ghostbur? There’s many… You have to elaborate.”
“Right! Because you’re an artiste!” The transparent male chirped happily, not seeming to notice your flinch, “I mean the one hanging above the fireplace, of Alivebur.”
“Right…” You nodded, following behind the eager sweater-wearing ghost down the eerie hallways and into the office, "I'm going to take it down... I think it's doing more harm than good..."
Ghostbur didn't seem to understand your reasoning, but he didn't say much, knowing that Alivebur hurt many people... But he didn't think he hurt you, "It's pretty though... But your art style has changed, in a good way though!" He smiled softly as you opened the large dark oak double doors.
You walked past your grand dark oak desk to stare at your former magnum opus, dangling above the unlit fireplace. "Hey, Bur, if you have a flint and steel, could you light the fire please?" You glanced over and watched him nod as he dug through his pockets. In the meantime, you climbed up onto the mantle and began to struggle to pull the canvas off the wall. With a bit of hassle, you managed to pull it down and toss it onto the ground before climbing down, just in time for your ghost friend to light the fire.
"Don't damage it, (N/n)! It's still really good!" Ghostbur scolded you with a pout once you hopped down and picked the canvas up, "And you used to be proud of it!"
"I'm not, don't fret too m-" You paused mid-sentence as you saw a letter tucked into the bottom corner of the back of the painting. Frowning in confusion, you slowly picked it up and turned it over into your hand, only to discover that it was addressed to you in fancy cursive, sealed with a light red and white wax seal, "What's this?"
He looked over at you and tilted his head, seeming almost as genuinely confused as you were. Ghostbur shrugged as you propped the painting up against the wall before sitting at your desk, using your letter opener for its purpose, "Love letter, perhaps?"
"I doubt it..." You mumbled softly as you carefully unfolded the paper, recognizing that it was probably a few years old, "Let's see... Who wrote this..." You hummed before beginning to read.
My darling artiste... I'm sure by the time you read this, I'm either dead or... Well, most likely dead, if all goes to plan...
I am writing this letter to you to let you know that life without you is not the same. Life without you is very sad and lonely. I have realised that it was you who keep me alive and cheerful.
I thought I would get used to your absence from my life, but every day has been harder when I think of all the good times we spent together.
There are so many things which I want to confess. It's killing me because I don't want you to go another day without knowing how I feel about you.
And I'm not able to tell you I'm in love with you.
What an idiot I am.
And for the past few days, I've been trying to figure out, why there aren't some words to describe it. I want to tell you exactly how I feel but there isn't a single goddamned word in the entire dictionary that can describe my love for you.
But I need that word. I need it because I want you to hear me say “I love You". I want to make the sweetest gestures in front of you which make you feel even more loved.
Trust me... I know... I act like an absolute ass towards you. I'm so scared of your life being in more danger than it was... I really did love you, and still do, but I didn't want it to hurt you more when I blow up L'Manberg...
Darling, I could have simply called you on your communicator and took you out on a surprise date but I couldn't have expressed my feelings. You have become an integral part of me. I want to give you all my love throughout my life.
The painting you made me is beautiful and I will cherish it for as long as I'm alive... It's a perfect picture of imperfection...
I Love You, (Y/n), even if by now you'll never love me back.
- Wilbur Soot
"That... That idiot..." You whispered, holding your head in your hands in an attempt to hide the tears from Ghostbur, "He planned blowing up L'Manberg from the beginning... That's why he refused to acknowledge me after I... He wanted me to hate him..."
Ghostbur held a bit of blue in his hands tightly, avoiding your gaze as you murmured to yourself, "Yeah... Most of my happiest memories involve you... That's why I couldn't understand when you said Aliverbur hated you..." He glanced away again as he saw you look at him.
"(Y/n)... Are you ever going to move out of Pogtopia?"
"Probably not for a long time, Ghostbur."
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subwaysurf45 · 3 years
Text
Winter Makes Ice (Ep.3)
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Summary:  you’re captured after a brawl at the Avengers building, Bucky and others must save you before Hydra makes a new Winter Soldier out of you, Bucky has given up that title.
Words: 2799
Episode: Three
Warning: not much, flashbacks, talks of violence
Masterlist! Winter Makes Ice Episode: Two
Time: 1:00pm 
Date: October 2nd 2024
It didn’t take long for everyone to board the helicopter and for it to take off, no one was lounging around this morning so they assembled quickly. Bucky sat by himself on the heli, the file was still open in his hands with the page turned to Dr. Wright. Bucky looked over the information that was given; he double and triple checked. There was a car waiting for them when they were going to arrive, Bucky would get dropped off and then Steve, Nat, and Wanda would drive around Halifax but would keep watch for a distress signal. Bucky made it clear it would only be him talking to the doctor, he was practicing his script in his head. 
“Five minutes ‘till landing,” the pilot spoke into his headset, the sound went to their ears sounding like a 1940s radio show. 
“Copy,” everyone replied without unison. 
The plane got lower and lower until it touched the ground; it was a private tarmac for primarily military forces and other important people; SHIELD was always allowed to use it. Everyone got off the plane after the propellers began to slow down, Bucky had jumped off once while they were still at top speed and got flung forward but the air. The all black car stood a ways in front of them, they all took their bags and headed over. 
“What a ride…” Steve muttered as he ran his hand against the perfect hood, this car was brand new and probably had never been in the sun before. It wasn’t a low sport car but rather an everyday car that was bullet proof and decked out with an AI on the inside, no one would take a second glance at it but the four of them marveled at how this car could fit in amongst others. The black rims matched the black tires and the black paint, this was Bucky’s dream car. 
They all got in and the ride began, Steve drove while Wanda sat in the back with Bucky, Nat was in the passenger seat playing her music. Every so often Wanda would look over to Bucky, he could see her out of the corner of his eye, she’d give a sympathetic glance and maybe open her mouth as if she was about to say something but chose against it. Bucky had Dr. Wright’s address on the file sheet; he was giving directions to Steve as they drove through the colourful houses. 
They had never seen houses like this, around four to five houses lined up next to each other, each of them were painted a different colour but they looked the same. Flowers grew in little holders under the two window sills at the front of the house, tulips were the most popular, vines would grow on the side where the sun didn’t shine too much and pain would chip around the bottom of the houses. Some houses still had Halloween decorations up, red leaves scattered on the ground and blew everywhere. There was a brown hue to the world around them, pumpkins were scattered on some door steps while other people still had Christmas lights up from last year. 
Bucky tapped Steve’s head rest and the car slowed to a stop, they looked out to their left to see a house that looked like it belonged to the community. It wasn’t modern and square with sleek grey tiles on the outside, it was old and run down. A ghost hung from the single garage light, one pumpkin was sitting on the doorstep. This house didn’t look like one of a nazi group member, nevermind just a person with their doctorate.
Tons of leaves crunched under Bucky’s combat boots, the road was littered with them, it made it seem like it was a red and yellow road. He looked both ways as he crossed even though no cars were on the road except for the military grade undercover car, Bucky looked over his shoulder to see Wanda waving. They were going to head to a farmers market in this town to pass the time, and Bucky would walk over there when he was done. He gave a thumbs up and the car drove away and down the street, he didn’t watch to see it disappear, Bucky only had one thing on his mind and it wasn’t some apple pies Wanda was looking for. 
The driveway looked new as well as the cobblestone walkway, one car was in the driveway and it looked to match the house, no crazy sports car. There was a screen door before an actual green wooden door, Bucky pulled back the screen and didn’t bother with the doorbell, he banged on the door. When he pulled his fist away there was a flake of green paint on his middle finger’s knuckle, a quick swipe and it was gone. Bucky stood back because he saw that in the movies, his back turned to the door as he looked out to the town. It was a lovely day, most people were probably at this farmer’s market, Bucky had never been to one even though you had offered to take him. 
His head whipped back at the door opening, the same man, but only older, opened the door. He looked tired and worn out, this was probably his last Halloween. The cane he was holding was shaking in his grip, the other hand gripped the side of the door extremely tight. You could see the white through the speckled skin. 
“What can I help you with, son?” the old man spoke with a smile, he licked his gums. A Canadian accent seemed almost cartoon-ish. 
Bucky froze as he looked at this man, the sight of him brought him back to his nightmares and everything he’d been through. The name ‘son’ rolled off this man’s tongue and down Bucky’s spine and sent a shiver running all through him, it was obvious this man didn’t know who Bucky was. Bucky almost felt bad that he was bothering him, it was obvious he wasn’t a walker and standing seemed to be his exercise for the day, but at the same time Bucky couldn’t help but think about all the ways he could rip this doctor apart. 
“Son?” the name came again. 
Bucky looked up with a shake of his head, “hello, are you Dr. Wright?” he asked quietly. 
“Yes it is, what do you need?” he didn’t seem freaked out that Bucky knew his name, it was a small town. 
“My name is James Buchanan Barnes,” Bucky started but the man didn’t seem to figure it out, “I am the Winter Soldier- used to be actually…” Bucky added. 
“Are you here to kill me?” the man’s voice shook, “because if you really are him then you have every right to do so,” he stepped back and opened the door for Bucky to walk in. 
“I’m here to talk, you’re not going to die.” Bucky walked in and kicked off his combat boots, he’d heard it’s a thing in Canada to take your shoes off in the house. He also heard there was bagged milk which didn’t make any sense to him, but he wasn’t about to argue. 
“That’s always good to hear, eh?” the accent slipped out again, it was weird for Bucky to see this man who haunted him just laughing. “Would you like some hot chocolate?” Dr. Wright asked as he made his way into the kitchen. 
His house was small, not many walls as one room just faded into another. Knick-knacks littered shelves and tables, everything brought a homey feel to it all, the house was very lived in. “No thanks,” Bucky waved up a hand to signal no. 
The doctor came and sat across from him, Bucky was sitting on a chair while Dr. Wright took the sofa, they both were wrapped in plastic. It made a squeaky sound when either of them moved but it didn’t seem to bother the doctor at all, Bucky one final time before swearing he wasn’t going to move again and hear that annoying sound. Both of Bucky’s hands were clasped in front of him, he felt too large and bulky for this petite chair, his fingers fiddled with each other. He’d pick and poke at the massive gloves he wore, his long sleeve was covering everything he needed. 
“So, Dr. Wright-”
“Jacob, son,” he corrected, “though I am a doctor,” Jacob hesitated, “I go by Jacob.”
“Is that your real first name?” Bucky asked, he was met with a smile and nod, “then call me Bucky, please.” Bucky smiled back, there was a growing tension between the both of them but they chose to ignore it. 
“Nice to meet you, Bucky.” Jacob seemed to relax at the name, he was scared of Bucky and Bucky could tell. This man had seen Bucky train for years on end, and Jacob knew what the Winter Soldier was capable of. “What do you need to talk to me about?” his cane rested beside him, his hand found its way there and just held it. 
“I need to talk to you about Hydra, any information you have on the Iceland base- or any base in Halifax, Iceland, Greenland, and there’s one more…” Bucky brought a gloved hand to his stubbled chin, the leather making a rough noise when it brushed against the facial hair. “Oh! It was Newfoundland, anything you knew about those four places.” 
Jacob thought for a moment, he didn’t have stubble to rub. Though he was old it was obvious he still thought that it was the old days, hair slicked back and a very fresh shave, facial hair wasn’t allowed unless you had grown it out in private. Bucky had always remembered Howard Stark’s mustache; he couldn’t picture him without it. 
“I mean, I was just a scientist, I ran labs and tested things on animals. I didn’t come up with the world ending plans, I was never told the reason for what I was doing, I was just told to do it.” Jacob sounded worried, “when I used to work for Hydra I was worried for my life everyday, they were so paranoid all the time that someone could be a rat. If you said ‘hail Hydra’ a little too quietly then you’d have a bullet between your eyes, I just kept my head down and did what I was told.” Jacob’s hand got increasingly tighter on the handle of his cane. 
“Was there something new they were working on?” Bucky asked, and he pulled out a little flip book to keep track. 
“I quit a total of ten years ago, when I was seventy-one, the only thing they were thinking of was keeping you in their grasp, there was no other plan.” Jacob shrugged, “Hydra couldn’t see a life source without you, they never intended on losing you the way they did.” 
“So you have no idea what they could possibly be working on, at all?” the hope Bucky had was falling, this was the only lead they knew and if all he could say was there was never a plan B, you were screwed.
“I’m sorry Bucky, I really want to help, but I just don’t know.” Jacob stood and walked back to the kitchen. He filled a glass of water and grabbed three pills from a container before heading back over to his seat. 
“Out of the four places I mentioned, Iceland, Greenland, Halifax, and Newfoundland,” Bucky paused and watched Jacob mutter them to himself and then take the pills, “which one is the strongest?”
Jacob swallowed his pills with water, “Iceland.” without any hesitation, no second guess, nothing giving away he was lying for didn’t know. “Iceland was hell for me, it has the best of the best for agents, scientists, and…” he glanced out the window, “cells and tourture.” 
Bucky shot up right away, he headed to the door. Jacob followed him, glass still in his hand. When Bucky was about to leave Jacob placed a hand on his shoulder. When Bucky turned back around the hand traveled along the center of his chest, “I'm not wired, Jacob.” Bucky eased. 
“Some things just come second nature, son.” Jacob kept his head down, “y’know, I never wanted to hurt you. I thought I was making my old man proud, but I never stopped to realize what I was doing was actually wrong.” Jacob looked up with glossy eyes, “I actually wanted to find you at some point because I know I was the one who woke you up last, I remember clearly the way you looked, right then, I knew I needed to leave that place.” Jacob shuffled over and stood completely square to Bucky, Bucky just looked down at Jacob with a face of horror. The man Bucky saw every night was crying and apologizing to him, he didn’t know anyone who worked with Hydra had a heart. “I’m sorry for everything I did to you,” Jacob reached in his back pocket, he had placed the glass of water on a side table. “Here, take some money-”
“No, none of that, Jacob, really,” Bucky held his hands out, “you’re forgiven, don’t worry about all that, I just need to find someone.” Bucky reached for the door. 
“What do you mean?” Jacob fished in his wallet. 
“Hydra stole my girlfriend, I think she's in Iceland.” Bucky’s eyebrows knitted together at Jacob who was given him a coin. 
“I think you’re right,” Jacob dropped the coin in Bucky’s palm before closing the door, the screen door creaked as it shut quickly with the wind. 
Time: 2:33pm
Date: October 2nd 2024
Steve, Nat, and Wanda were walking around on the closed road, stands of every fruit and pastry lined the streets. Wanda was on top of the moon, she had a tote bag with some apple turnovers in them, that was really all she wanted. Nat had actually bought something too, Steve was genuinely surprised when Nat bought some earrings from a vendor, they were very small and dainty moons that would go in her ear lobes. Steve didn’t buy anything but just liked walking around, there was a lot to see but in a good way, no screens or jumbotrons, just people being people. 
As Bucky made eye contact with Steve, Steve’s phone rang. Nat and Wanda rushed up to Bucky and were asking how it went, but the unknown caller was what Steve was focusing on. 
“Steve Rogers,” Steve lowered his voice. 
“Captain Rogers,” an all too familiar voice hit his ear. 
“King T’Challa?” Steve turned his back to the group. 
“We have three Hydra agents in custody, they tried to take out my sister,” his accent flowed and bounced as he talked.
“Keep them in the cells, we’re on our way.” 
“Will there be more of them?” T’Challa asked before he could hang up. 
“I don’t know, but hold them and don’t kill them, they might be our only hope.” Steve said his goodbyes and hung up. 
When he turned back to Bucky and the rest of them, they seemed scared, Bucky had overheard Steve’s call, super hearing, and was looking at him weird. 
“What was that?” Bucky asked. 
“King T’Challa, says there was an attempted hit on Shuri, doesn’t know where they came from but they want her.” Steve shoved his phone in his back pocket, “what did you find?” 
Bucky just held up a silver coin, “we’re going to Iceland.” 
“We need to go to Wakanda,” Steve stepped forward. 
“Not all four of us,” Nat pulled everyone aside from the farmer’s market, “I’ll go with Steve to Wakadna, you go with Wanda to Iceland. We’ll be talking and before you ambush the Hydra base in Iceland we’ll confirm y/n is in there, deal?” She looked to the other three. 
“Deal.”
“Deal.”
“Deal.”
Winter Makes Ice tag list: @small-death-and-codeine​ @commonintrest​ @buckyys-doll​  @lil-baby-nor
let me know if you want a tag!
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rumblelibrary · 3 years
Note
hii!! i saw your requests are open, if you’re not too busy could you write something about Laszlo falling in love with reader (she’s a friend of Sara’s and helping with the case) but he keeps trying to avoid his feelings and remain professional and friendly until then he gets jealous of Marcus (or maybe John whoever you think works best) and starts being mean and pushing her away and then John or Sara are like “really?? can you not see that she likes you?” and he apologizes and it’s all fluffy at the end??
that was a bit long sorry, i hope you’re having a great day💗💗
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Worlds Apart [Dr Laszlo Kreizler x Reader]
Word count: 2.5k
Warnings: Laszlo being his usual adorable dumbass
Author’s note: Thank you so much for giving me the chance to write your story, hope you’ll enjoy it 💗💗
The first time your presence graced him was on an infamous rainy day. He didn’t mind rain, but it was the kind of storm that forced kids inside the Institute and some of them really benefitted of the time spent outside. So when you appeared at his doorstep escorted by Cyrus, a little of wetness on your shoulders and your hat, arms tightly grasping a big bunch of paper folders, untouched by the heavy weather clearly at your expenses, you looked like a gift from the above.
“Sara Howard contacted me, My name is Y/N Y/L/N, I work for the Town Hall Archives” you introduced yourself, a polite smile softening him. “It is my pleasure to finally meet you, Dr Kreizler” you added.
He blinked realising he was staring while your words moved past him without affecting him.
“Please, Sara told me you are going to be vital in the unravelling of this case, call me Laszlo”
He opened his arm on side letting you in as Cyrus walked away closing the door behind himself. A sense of guilt creeping over him, he realised how low his mind went to appreciate your physical side first and your sweet smile next, if men were anything different from the beasts, then why indulge still in such raw details. From that moment on, he decided, he would not do you the same disrespect. Little he knew that once he forbid himself to take grace of the sight of you, he would be overwhelmed by your bright mind. As you exposed those files to him you two started working together, day after day, time after time, a little dance of turning pages, soft smile, excited discoveries. Your smile affecting him in unpredicted ways, your good heart weakening his mask, your calm demure forbidding his raging fits. Anything of you made him better, any part of you was loved and worshipped by him, your position quickly transitioning from helpful hand, to admirable being and now to an ideal. A sense of necessity creeping over him every time you closed the space between the two of you to show him something, every time he stared at you wrapped up some archive ladder to find this or that file. Another thing you earned from him with time, the hardest maybe, was the ability to make him chuckle. You weren’t a goofball but you knew when to break down his thought process to bring him back to a quieter state. He liked you, he was even considering to offer you to leave the Town Hall Archives to work as his secretary at the Institute. The benefits of your presence made his work better and your natural tendency to method blessing his day to day activities with balance. Laszlo didn’t like to admit it, but a sense of possessiveness was also growing on him, he knew what was going on in his mind, or to better say it in his heart, but he refused to acknowledge it. The case was on, after the case maybe.
Or maybe never.
That’s what he thought when, after an interview at the house of a potential future patient of the institute, he took a stroll on the main road, his eyes darting on the flower shop only to recognise you there. Your figure associated with the colourful gifts of nature made his heart skip a beat, a sense of joy filled him soon to disappear when Marcus Isaacson figure appeared beside you holding three or four different kind of flowers in large bouquets, all of them meaning something love related: attraction, desire, kinship.
Those meanings pestered his thoughts, your soft laugh hitting his ears like an angel choir. Your hand lifting up as Marcus bowed his head toward you, your bare fingers running through his curls pulling out some wild leaf that got tangled among them.
“Silly me” he chanted like a child that has zero guilt about earning something undeserved “Come on Y/N, pick your favourite, I can’t hold them all forever”.
Laszlo’s eyes narrowed on him, hating the urgency in his voice, before drifting on the big bouquets, the carnations attracting his gaze, the meaning: pure love, faithfulness, also motherly love.
“The carnations” you said without a doubt moving your arms among the flower to pick them, the closeness you shared rubbing Laszlo in the wrong way.
A sudden realisation hitting him, rage boiling as he turned on his heels to rush to the Institute. What a fool he was, mistaking your natural kindness for…what? Interest for a cripple? Tenderness for a lonely angry man? His jaw clenched, rage surging through him, on that day the door of his office slammed so hard nobody dared to call for him, not even for dinner. When the next day you came to bring some papers and revise some new information, he was keeping a two meters distance all the time, if not more. Anything you said was welcomed with sounds the usual good morning disappeared.
“Laszlo” you called him after more than one hour spent welcomed by only silence and grunts “Did something happen? Maybe, I could help..”
“What exactly gives the impression I need your help?” He shot back before you could even mutter another sentence or even conclude the one you just begun.
His eyes raising from the papers he was holding, his hand moved to his glasses taking them off “As far as my knowledge goes, you’re here to support the investigation with documents and research, not to interfere with my personal life or a job like mine that requires not only tact but also a severe respect of the patient’s privacy”
You closed your mouth suddenly as he never reacted in such a way toward you. Usually he seemed to like to engage with you, to hear your thoughts and opinions, now his hard glare was dooming over you like the Judgment Day.
“I apologise” you resumed to say, maybe it was a bad day, those bad days John teased him about so many times, but that you never encountered before.
So you moved back to your spot respecting the distance he wanted, he put his glasses back on the bridge of his nose.
Nothing more was said.
That evening when you were about to leave you thanked him and wished him a good night, as you always did. Silence again, only one hand to be lifted as he didn’t even turn to talk to you. His reaction gutted you and from that day on to visit him turned into the heaviest hours of the day. There was no room for chat, no room for accommodation. You even brought some sweets one day thinking he might like it and he handed those just as quickly to the kids. You even asked him if you wronged him and he said there was nothing wrong.
After two weeks like this, you sat behind your desk at the Town Hall resigned to live with his silence, you stared at a little note he wrote to you once to thank you of your help with some documents titles underneath.
I admire your dedication to the case. Your help is invaluable L.K.
You read, but that didn’t stand anymore, for some reason.
“What’s that long face for?”
Sara asked leaning against your desk as you slipped that piece of paper underneath your notebook. You already gave Laszlo all the documents requested, you could throw that away, but you didn’t.
“I think I upset Dr Kreizler”
Sara looked at you surprised by the way you resumed calling him by his title, like you were trying to gain distance from him. You looked at her incisive look as you quietly explained to her your fears and doubts, what was going on and how you probably should ask John a way to repair the situation, because you were clueless. After your conversation Sara didn’t think about it twice and after concluding her duties she stormed at Laszlo’s office only to find him engaged in the billionth argument with John.
“What have you told to Y/N?”
She asked, a proper mad mama bear as she stared at him mercilessly, she was aiming for the throat and John looked at him puzzled.
“What have you done Laszlo? Having a fine woman interested on you hits so differently?”
Laszlo was about to answer Sara when he suddenly felt attacked on too many fronts.
“Wait, I beg your pardon? I think you have got into some mistake, John”
John looked at him and then at Sara as she shook her head impatiently and already fed up with Laszlo’s ways.
“She does like you Laszlo, where is your problem about it?” She inquired more “Is she not a doctor enough for your likings? Do you want a duchess or something? Because I don’t understand, if you’re not interested to her at least be human”
By this moment Laszlo was still incredule and a chuckle almost left his lips
“I think you are mistaken Sara, Y/N is in a relationship with Marcus Isaacson, I stumbled upon them already”
“Marcus? I thought he was seeing that Esther girl, Lucius complained about his lack of focus more than once, how did you manage to erase her interest that quick Laszlo?” John said surprised and Sara had to hold onto her iron will not to slap the both of them in their faces.
“You two are worse than any little town blabbermouth” she snapped.
John frowned feeling accused and Laszlo was ready to give her a lecture that could last until the end of times when you walked inside in a rush.
“Excuse me” you said out of breath, mud stained your dress as you clearly run your way to her Institute handing them a file “This just came”.
You gulped down as Sara glared at Laszlo while she guided you to have a glass of water.Laszlo studied the document without even acknowledging your presence, another victim served on a plate.
That evening he went to see the body, the Isaacson’s giving a full display of the wounds and marks on the body to him and John. By the rules of the obituary, you and Sara weren’t welcomed inside as they were.  You sat silently, slowly tracing the stain on your skirt thinking how bad Laszlo’s impression of you must be now that you even showed yourself in such an improper manner, such a gentleman like him witnessing you in such a state. When they came out of the obituary Sara stood up as you remained sat, the warm presence of Laszlo now hunting you like a ghost every time he is around.
“The murderer knows we re close” Laszlo stated as he sighed, ashamed that another life was lost “I think that this victim in particular..”
“Y/N!”
Marcus interrupted him rushing out of the obituary with his bloody apron still on, his less than sanitary clean hand on your shoulder as Laszlo was ready to reduce the both of you to dust for interrupting him.
“Excuse me Doctor” Marcus head shot up to him before looking back down at you “Thank you for helping with the gifts, Esther adored them, we are going out again tonight” he said excitedly to you and a big smile, the first of the day, blossomed on your lips.
“I told you, you should trust me more often” you said and he nodded vehemently “If things go this good, I will come to ask you to help me with the ring” he said completely hyped up, bouncing curls everywhere, as you crossed your fingers for him and he repeated the gesture before disappearing again called by his brother who was fed up with his love talks already.
Sara crossed her arms as John’s stare went up to Laszlo’s face, the sudden realisation of his mistake hit him like a bag of bricks. A mix of shame and happiness filling him up. And now the doubt: did he ruined his chances forever? The next morning you came into his office, you never stopped wishing him good morning and being polite, no matter his attitude.
“Y/N” he called you as you were placing your belongings aside. Your surprised look due to his softened tone was unmissable to him.
“Come here, I wish to talk to you”
You grew nervous as he didn’t say much else, so you walked to him sitting on the couch beside him, the one where you shared so many talks not too long before, even if now it felt like an eternity.
“I want to apologise to you” he blurted out all together, no need to move around the topic even though that only affirmation run over you harder than any other phrase.
You didn’t reply, allowing him to proceed.
“I apologise, because I have been selfish and foolish” he said, the fingers of his left hand touching nervously the armchair “I have been mistreating you only because my pride was hurt, I have acted like a man without means and courage.”
You parted your lips but he interrupted you before you could even begin.
“Please, let me finish, I have felt from the beginning a prominent fondness toward you. Your character and your kindness make you a remarkable person, you have the talent of bringing out the best out of most people, me included. But I have misread your ways and pointed your natural disposition to a form of romantic interest directed on me and our common friend Marcus Isaacson”
He was still excluding the possibility of you being attracted to him.
“I thought there was something behind it and I acted like a child instead of asking you directly, and I am ashamed for that”
You stared at him, a little smile creeping onto your lips.
“I think you misread only half of the situation Laszlo, as always you’re too unkind on yourself” you said gathering all the courage you had “because my interest toward you was honest while my relationship with Marcus is nothing by friendly”
Now it was Laszlo’s turn to be silenced, a new realisation creeping into his bones, a hope becoming a possibility.
“And is that honest interest still alive after my despicable ways?”
Your smile grew pulled by the redness spreading on your cheeks.
“Maybe” he interrupted. He didn’t want to wait for your answer, your smile spoke for you “maybe we can further bring this conversation to Delmonico’s, tonight, just the two of us”
Your smile grew bigger, his eyes shining for you.
“It will be my pleasure” you answered only, not knowing a bouquet of carnations was already being delivered at your house to welcome you once you’ll be back.
Tagged @cazzyimagines @lieutenantn @handmaiden-of-mischief@thesunflowersutra @zemomybeloved​ @fictionlandslanddreams @charistory @greeneyedblondie44 @apparrio Let me know if you want to get tagged too <3
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tomtenadia · 3 years
Text
Remember us - part 3
Here we are with part 3.
This was a tough chapter to write.
Please do not hate Rowan, he is confused and scared and what is happening to him is scary.
-------
A slow tune played in the distance of the big garden. 
Rowan took Aelin’s hand and walked away from the big crowd and near the bank of the lake where it was just the two of them.
“Did you drag me here to kill me?”
Rowan in response kissed her and Aelin could not read his expression. His arms went around her frame and pulled her closer for a slow dance on the spot.
His hand brushed her back and let her scent envelope him. 
“Lys and Aedion look happy.” He whispered to her, enjoying the feeling of her in his arms. A presence he would never tire of.
“It was about time.” Aelin said kissing his chest.
“It’s our turn to be that happy, what do you think?” Rowan went down on one knee and gently grabbed her hand pulling it to his chest “Fireheart, I love you. You are my best friend, my soulmate and I want to walk the path of life at your side. I want to grow old with you and still watch silly movies on the sofa. Aelin Galathynius, will you do me the honour of marrying me and let me call you my wife?”
The smile on Aelin’s face became radiant “Yes,” a kiss on his lips “yes, buzzard, I will marry you.”
*
Rowan woke up panting hard. The memory had been very vivid and clear in his head. The colours, the smells, he felt as if he had been there. Aelin had told him about that memory, about the day he had proposed to her at a friend’s wedding.
The memory had felt so real and his hands were now shaking.
It had been a week since that conversation. Aelin had started visiting him on her way to work and sometimes during her breaks as well. They had been chatting and she had been telling more about their lives and answered all the questions he had. The topic he hadn’t had yet the courage to cover was the one about her being pregnant. He felt bad for snooping on the phone but that was his anyway and Aelin had given it to him with that exact intention. For him to read and discover more about who he had been and hopefully unlock more moments.
He was busy with his thoughts that he did nor notice a male nurse popping into his room.
“Time to go.”
The doctor had told him that now that he was awake it was time to finally start his rehab and to try have him walking again quite quickly.
The nurse helped him to shift onto the wheelchair and pushed him out.
“Can someone tell Aelin where I am gone? Sometimes she comes and visit on her break.”
“I am sure nurse Ytger will tell your wife that you went for physio.”
He had started to enjoy and wait eagerly for her visits. He wanted to tell her abut the flash of the day he proposed.
They finally arrived at the gym and a man was waiting for him “Hello Rowan and welcome to hell.” Said the man in front of him “You’ll probably will want to kill me after every session but I assure you I will make you walk again. I always do.” The man said quite smugly “my name is Dorian, by the way.”
For a half an hour Dorian massaged and warmed up and loosened his right leg. Every time he bent his knee Rowan was ready to cry. Until the man got him back on the wheelchair and they reached some parallel bars “now, we try walking.”
Rowan looked at him in disbelief. He could not be serious.
“Come on, hold on to the bars with your hands and pull yourself upright.”
He followed the directions and pulled himself up. 
“Good. Now try to move a step.”
Rowan tried but almost fell on his face if it wasn’t that Dorian grabbed him “don’t put weight on the injured leg yet.”
He was about to try again when he spotted Aelin in her blue scrubs entering the gym. Dorian saw her as well “are you going to look good in front of your wife?”
Aelin joined him “Hi devil.” She greeted Dorian.
“Hi my darling. Your hubby and I just started.”
“Just go easy on him. I just got him back.” And Rowan saw Aelin give him a warm smile. He needed to tell her about his dream. He wanted to revive that day with her, to know how she felt. She had looked happy in the memory. Rowan was also curious to know why she called him buzzard.
For another good hour he did all Dorian told him and by the end of the first session he did manage to walk once the length on the walking bars. Aelin had given him the most stunning smile.
They were now back in his room and she was helping him climb back in bed.
“You must be exhausted. Dorian’s sessions are tough, but the man does miracles.”
“My leg hurts…” he said fully leaning back in bed in a seated position.
“I should let you rest.” Aelin made a move to leave but he stopped her, grabbing her hand for a fleeting moment “stay, please.”
Aelin nodded and sat back down on the chair. He noticed her hand gently move to her stomach in a protective gesture.
“I had a dream.” He told her and saw his wife turn her head to him “it was the day I proposed. You had a green dress and we were at Lys and Aedion’s wedding.” He continued and saw her face break and try to hold back the tears “you called me buzzard.”
Aelin started sobbing. It was just one memory. It was not their entire life but it was something. She nodded eagerly and restrained herself from the desire to kiss him. She missed the contact with him.
“It’s my nickname for you. You hover, like a bird of prey. I have been calling you like that since the beginnings.”
He smiled and decided to tackle the more pressing question he had for her, his heart started racing. He had found out from the phone and not from her. He took a deep breath “I know…” he whispered and she looked up at him with curiosity “I was going through the text messages we exchanged and I found the one where you sent me a picture of our baby.”
Aelin gasped “I didn’t tell you because it would have been too much and you already have enough to deal with.” She was trying to protect him. She had been dying to tell him but for a moment she had put her desires aside and thought about him, how he would react at the news.
“How far along are you?”
“12 weeks. I am just at the end of my first trimester.” And he saw her lift her scrub and could see the slight hint of a bump “peanut, this is dad. Dad, this is peanut.”
Rowan sighed heavily “what if…” how could he explain his fears to her without crushing her? “What if the person I become is not the husband you remember? I don’t know when I will get my memories back. And when I do? Will it still be me or a brand new person with some jumbled up memories? What if you realise you can’t live with a version of me that is just a bad copy of the original?” He was terrified at the idea. 
“To whatever end.” She whispered “that’s the promise we shared on our wedding day. We will go through life together no matter what. Together.” Aelin sniffled loudly “we already went through a lot in seven years of marriage. Two miscarriages that shook us to the core. But we survived. Our marriage survived.” She took his hand feeling the need to a contact with him to dispel the fears in her heart “we will survive this as well.” She was now sobbing and Rowan had no idea how to console her. He had grabbed her hand briefly but still did not feel comfortable enough for contact with her.
“Sorry, it’s the hormones.”
“Aelin, you should move on. Find someone—” but Aelin did not let him finish “Rowan Whitethorn, please tell me you have not just suggested me to leave you.” She stood and shouted at him furious that he could even think about something so outrageous.
“I am not leaving you for another man. You are my husband.” She felt anger rising at the idea he might suggest such thing. It broke her heart that he would give up like that. 
“What if I don’t want to be your husband? Have you thought about me? I am trapped in a life I don’t recognise.” His tone matched hers and at his words Aelin felt her heart break. She took a step away from him.
“You come here and tell me all those thing about our life. Am I supposed to accept them without question and jump back in my old life?”
She did not answer him. Aelin just ran out of the room, heavy tears streaming down her cheeks. And when nausea hit she ran for the toilets and emptied her stomach.
She sat on the floor for a time that felt endless until she got paged and had to force herself to go back to work.
***
Rowan closed his eyes and he collapsed back on the pillow. His soul ached at the words he had said to Aelin. Why did he tell her something he did not believe himself? He was confused and utterly overwhelmed. He had so many questions and he had reacted in the worst possible way. But he was scared of not being able to be enough for her, to transform into a copy she might not like. They had kids to think about too. What if he was going to destroy a family? They deserved better than him.
Waking up and not remembering anything of his life had been terrifying. But that woman, his wife, was willing to take him back no matter what. She was ready to show him a way to find himself again. 
He took his mobile and texted her as soon as he figured out how to do it I am sorry for what I said. I am really scared.
Rowan placed the phone on the nightstand and lay down. He felt exhausted and when he closed his eyes, sleep caught him in his arms.
***
Rowan was standing in front of a crowd. He was in what looked like a ballroom inside and old building. The guests were all dressed up nicely and so was he. At his side there was a blonde man grinning happily.
As soon as the music started he turned his head and saw two dark-haired women entering the venue  and slowly proceed along the aisle in his direction. His gazed drifted away from them as soon as he spotted Aelin at the entrance. She was dressed in the most amazing light blue dress and she looked stunning. He felt like the luckiest man alive. Aelin had chosen him.
She stopped in front of him and he mouthed the words I love you to her. The officiant proceeded with the ceremony until it was time to exchange their vows and he went first.
“Aelin, my heart, once we set our hate aside you became my best friend and then my soulmate and soon I will be able to call you my wife as well. I am ready to face this new adventure together and stay at your side, no matter what. To whatever end, fireheart.”
By the time he finished she was in tears and it took her a moment to compose herself.
“Rowan, my buzzard, life can be unpredictable and cruel, but as long as I have you at my side I know I can survive anything. You are my rock. I am looking forward to our new adventure together. I love you, to whatever end.”
Rowan kissed her not even waiting for the right moment.
“Rowan Whitethorn, do you take Aelin Galathynius as you wife. Promise to respect her and cherish the time you will have together? To love her for better for worse, in sickness and in health till death do you part?”
“I do.” Said Rowan never averting his green eyes from her.
“Aelin Galathynius, do you take Rowan Whitethorn as your husband and promise to walk the path of life at his side. To love him for better or for worse, in sickness and in health till death do you part?”
“I do.” Tears of joy streamed down her face.
A moment later the scent of flowers had gone and Rowan awoke abruptly and the smell of disinfectant hit him.
He had been dreaming again. Their wedding apparently. They had been so happy and he could not remove from his mind Aelin’s stunning smile.
Frantically he grabbed his phone and sadness hit him when he noticed there was no answer from Aelin.
What had he done?
***
That night when Aelin got back home she looked for comfort in her mother’s arms first. She had told her all that happened at the hospital and Rowan’s words. Evalin had let her cry until she was spent.
When bed time came she went for her bedroom and found her bed already occupied by her two terrors. She changed in her pyjama and climbed in bed. Gently she pulled Freyja to her chest and inhaled deeply her scent. As if on instinct, just like his father, Thomas adjusted and moved to her snuggling closer. A pair of green eyes set on her “go back to sleep my love.” She kissed his blonde hair.
“I miss dad.” He said moving even closer and Aelin wrapped her arms around her two children “I miss him too, Tom.”
“When is he coming back?”
“Soon.” She brushed his hair “now sleep, okay?”
“I love you, mum.”
Aelin barely stopped the tears “I love you too.”
She closed her eyes and cried herself to sleep.
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justjuiceyboy · 3 years
Text
new beginnings
in which Happy is the readers tattoo artist
word count: 1,637
warnings: swearing 
(a/n: I’m basically becoming a blog for Happy, will get back to writing Juice soon, just got this idea and knew I had to run with it. Hope you all enjoy and if you ever want to request my asks are open! Love you all, thanks for supporting!)
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7:45 p.m. The sun was setting, causing an array of colours over the buildings of Charming, lighting up the place like a movie. The air was fresh, warm as it was the middle of July. You strolled along the footpath and kicked a small rock as you walked, to calm your nerves. You had made the quick decision with your friend to get tattoos together on this day. But you were walking alone, friendless.
You were not ever going to get a tattoo alongside your ’friend’ who you had caught sleeping with your boyfriend of two years. Two years and he threw it down the drain. With your best friend nonetheless. You just packed your things as he tried to claim his innocence, even though you caught him in bed with her. You were lucky to find an apartment that day that someone was trying to get rid of. At least you had somewhere to stay, even if the entire situation wasn’t ideal.
You still decided to go through with the tattoo, wanting to use this as an opportunity for new beginnings. 
You were brought out of your daydream by the pinging of your phone, google maps telling you that you’ve reached your destination. You looked around, wide-eyed, not really knowing what to expect. But here you were, standing outside a small shop adorned with a sign stating “Mallen Tattoos”. This was the place you were looking for.
Pushing open the door, you were instantly met with the smell of cigarette smoke and disinfectant. At least they use disinfectant, you thought to yourself, trying not to show any emotion. 
You walked promptly up to the front counter and coughed to get the man's attention. He looked up at you from where he was sitting and gave you a warm smile, accompanied by “You alright Darling?” 
You were insanely put at ease by his kind demeanour and you smiled back at him, “Hi, I have an appointment for a tattoo at 8, booked it a few weeks ago?” He started flipping through a book that was on the desk and stopped, raising a brow, “says here that there’s gonna be two of you?” 
You sighed, having forgotten that obviously, your best friend was in on the booking too. You told that man that it was just you and handed over some ID, hoping he’d still allow you to be tattooed even though it was only one client. You handed over the money for the tattoo in hopes that that may persuade him further. But once again he smiled and got up from his seat, bringing you through a small hallway to a spacious room with four big leather chairs for tattooing. He gestured to one of them and you sat down.
He brought over a clipboard full of waivers for you to sign and then spoke once again. “Oh, I forgot to tell you Miss, but the artist you wanted, well, he’s sick today. Real bad infection! But anyways, we have a different guy here who gets tattooed all the time, very talented too, if you’ll take him instead?” You could tell he was nervous as to how you’d react. You’d spoken to the other artist on the phone and he’d done practice drawings of the tattoo and sent them to you so you were pretty nervous to let a new artist just take over but before you could weigh up the pros and cons you just nodded. New beginnings, right?
He let out a sigh of relief that he had been holding in and apologised for all this which made you laugh. But you stopped laughing as soon as you saw your new tattoo artist.
A tall figure entered the room, walking over to the man who had led you here. They seemed friendly with each other as they talked. Your nervousness was now back in full force as you surveyed the man who was about to ink your body. He was bald and you could see the tattoos going up his arms. He had an extensive collection which you assumed went much further than just his arms but your view was covered by the plain white T-Shirt he was wearing. He was quite scary, never creating a smile the entire time the other man was talking to him. Your tattoo artist was handed a few pages and he nodded after looking through them, finally making his way over to you who was sweating in the leather chair.
“This is Happy! He’ll take great care of you don’t worry! If you need anything you know where I am” the overly jolly man as he waved goodbye to you both and returned down the hall. Happy. The man in front of you was anything but Happy, with his scary look and overly built body. You knew he was a part of the Sons Of Anarchy biker gang.
You finally made eye contact with Happy and your nervousness increased once again. He was a good-looking man and you knew this tattoo could take some time. Being trapped in close contact with a man like this would terrify anyone. Also, he has some menacing eyes that you felt nearly bore holes into you when he looked.
“Do you know where you want it?” He questioned suddenly, you hearing his voice for the first time. Your mind instantly went to the wrong idea of what you want where and you choked out an exclamation of “what?!”
“The tattoo, where do you want it?” He stated not changing his expression. You mentally hit yourself in the face for going to the dirty side of things and once again was only barely able to speak when you said “ribs.”
He nodded and set up with the pre-made stencil as you lifted your shirt over one shoulder, half your body on display now. He focused on the task at hand and lay the stencil whilst you tried to look anywhere else but at him, knowing that he’d make your knees go weak and you’d say something stupid again. 
Once you agreed to the positioning, he began the process of the needlework. This was the first time you’d been tattooed and you didn’t know what to expect in regards to pain. The second he hit the skin, you jumped. He looked up at you and raised an eyebrow and you smile sheepishly so he continued on again. There was no small talk which you were thankful for. You were trying not to make a big deal of it but you could feel every touch, especially when he brushed off your boob whilst doing the linework.
He began filling the shape and shading and you let out a quiet ‘fuck’ and a breath. The man finally broke the silence as he stopped tattooing for a quick minute and rustled around in the pocket of his leather kutte. He pulled out a packet of cigarettes and held it one out to you. Talk about a hygienic practice, but you couldn’t judge right now, anything to take your mind off the pain.
“It helps, especially first time,” he concluded, lighting the cigarette and bringing it up to your lips. You took a drag and felt more relaxed now so he continued on again, placing the cigarette in between his own lips. But this time he kept talking, probably to distract you.
“Why the tattoo?” He asked, without looking at you of course, as he was busy staring at the skin beside your breast. You decided to give in to the small talk, mainly because you wanted to see what you could find out about the man who held a needle to your ribs and a cigarette hanging out of his mouth.
“I booked it with a friend but I found out she was sleeping with my boyfriend so I’m not really sure why I still came if I’m being honest,” you told him, not being wary that you were spilling the truth to a stranger.
“Sounds like a dick” he stated point-blank, making you laugh quietly. “Yeah, she was.”
“Meant the boyfriend. He was obviously stupid,” he mumbles, one eye flicking up to you as he pulled away again. He took the cigarette from his mouth and reached up to you again to let you have a puff. You weren’t sure if it was the air or the cigarette smoke clouding your judgment but the entire scene felt slightly erotic to you now. Hot man, feathery touched on your body and sharing a cigarette between both of your mouths. 
Happy seemed to have unwavering confidence as he watched you take a long drag as he spoke again, “You need a real man.” Now it was your turn to mumble, “beats me when I’ll find one of those.” It only took him another five or so minutes to finish on the tattoo and he then wrapped the area for you in silence.
He wrote a few things on a piece of printed paper and handed it to you, telling you it was just the care instructions and told you how to wash the area. You thanked him and he nodded again, signaling that you can go. You left the room and walked out the door of the shop, waving to the friendly man at the front desk.
The air was now brisk as you turned on your heel, ready to walk home. You were about to stuff the paper into your pocket as you noticed what he wrote at the bottom.
‘If you’re still looking for that real man, call me’
It was accompanied by his phone number and a small smiley face, which in turn made you smile. Looks like you’ll be seeing him again soon and not just for another tattoo. As you said, new beginnings, right?
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peakyswritings · 3 years
Text
Black Widow
Luca Changretta x fem!reader
Requested by: @lilywinchesterlove
Summary: Luca thinks he has finally found the one, but what happens when finds out that she hides a deep, dark secret? Eventually, the truth always comes to light
Warnings: mentions of abuse, mentions of murder, mentions of death, drinking, swearing, angst
A/N: this took really long, but I made it! I changed the request a tiny bit, I hope you like it!❤️⭐️
The gif is not mine, credits to the owner
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Long dresses, neatly pressed suits, bright jewellery, alcohol flowing. Luca had never liked big parties. Despite his luxurious lifestyle, those ostentatious displays of wealth weren’t exactly his cup of tea; not to mention the fact that all of those strangers wandering through his house made him extremely uncomfortable. He’d much rather spend time with his family, or his closest men, instead of taking part in those boring business talks with men who took a despicable pleasure in showing off both their richness and their trophy wives who, in turn, were engaged in an endless competition. But even his birthday was a way to expand his business and make new alliances.
Nevertheless, that night his mind was occupied by something else, way more important than the middle-aged man who was bragging about his new Bentley. He was on edge, absentmindedly taking frequent looks around the room, waiting for Matteo’s face to appear in the crowd. After almost two weeks of waiting, he was about to get the answers to his questions.
“I don’t like her, she’s hiding something”
“You don’t know her”
“Apparently, neither do you” Vicente argued, trying to talk some sense into his son. “I’m just telling you” he added “to keep an eye on her”
His father’s words ringed in his ears as he watched his mother hug you, thrilled to finally see you again. He wasn’t expecting her to like you so much when he introduced you to his family, the way she had welcomed you was a pleasant surprise. She was quite good at reading people, her sixth sense was seldom wrong. However, his father didn’t really agree with his wife and, as soon as he found himself alone with him, he didn’t hesitate to point out the fact that you didn’t seem like someone who could be trusted. You were suspiciously vague when they asked questions about you, or your past.
As much as he hated to admit it, Luca knew he was right. You never talked about your past or your family, you dismissed every question, changing the subject whenever he tried to find out something more about you. At first he thought that there was something that you weren’t ready to talk about - the scars on your body were the proof - and he was fine with that, but the more time passed, the more he realised that the secret you were keeping was deeper than he thought. So he followed his father’s advice, hiring his most trusted man to gather information about you. He felt guilty, like he was breaking your trust, but he had to be aware of the woman he wanted to marry.
Matteo glanced at him from the other side of the big room, nodding towards the door. He distractedly excused himself from the men he was talking to and headed towards his office, feeling his impatience grow second by second.
“Did you find anything?” he asked, closing the door behind him.
Matteo placed a folder on the desk. “Everything’s written here. I also found some documents that might interest you”
“Good”
Luca wavered for a moment before opening it. He could feel the agitation rise moment by moment. It was still perfectly sealed, as he had ordered. No one, except for him and the man in front of him, must know anything. He had no idea about what he would find out and he didn’t wanna risk to expose something that you didn’t want to be known.
His eyes meticulously scanned the pages, the more he read, the more he tensed up, not recognising the woman that they described. He looked up from the sheet, glancing at Matteo. Even though he knew what was in that envelope, he didn’t comment nor ask unwanted questions. His discretion was the reason why he had been chosen for the job, after all. He shook his head in disbelief, tossing the papers on his desk. You couldn’t have fooled him like that. No one fooled him like that.
“That’s all?”
“Yes, sir”
He nodded, trying to regain his composure. He cleared his throat, neatly stacking the sheets again. “Call Y/n, tell her to come here”
He didn’t need to say it twice, because Matteo immediately walked out the room.
Luca sat on his chair and waited, tapping his fingers on the wooden surface. Mixed feeling fought inside him, anger, disappointment, betrayal, confusion. One question kept on haunting him.
Why?
The creaking sound of the door opening made him lift up his eyes. “Did you want to see me?”
“Sit down” he said, gesturing towards the chair on the other side of the desk. You frowned as you did as he said, waiting for him to start talking. You guessed it must’ve been urgent, since he hadn’t even waited for the guests to go away.
He examined you, trying to find the smallest bit of evidence that could prove what he had read was true. But you sat in front of him, looking at him with your big eyes. If your intentions were malicious, you were way too good at hiding them behind your sweet voice and charming smile.
“Why don’t you tell me about your husband?”
You froze on the spot, feeling the colour drain from your face. “What?”
“I’m sorry, maybe I should say your first husband” he corrected himself, oddly calm. “He died on your wedding night, right? He hit his head, it was a bad accident”
As much as he tried to hide it, rage radiated from every cell in his body. You could see it in the way his back stiffened, in the way his hands gripped the arm of his chair until his knuckles turned white.
It couldn’t be happening. You had moved far away from home, changed your style and habits, you even changed your surname. There was no way he could have known. You put your initial shock aside, the realisation of what it all meant was enough to make you get suddenly defensive. “Did you look into my past behind my back?” you raised your voice, getting up from the chair.
“And how about your second husband?” he added, unfazed, completely ignoring your question. “The one who died in suspicious circumstances. It must’ve been a nightmare for you, becoming a widow twice”
Despite his straight face and apparent calmness, the sarcasm in his voice was clear.
“Stop it.”
“Good thing they were rich, the papers here say that you inherited all of their money” he noted, pointing to the documents. “They also say that you probably poisoned your second husband, hence the reason why you’re known in your hometown as a Black Widow”
Black Widow. That’s what everyone called you. You could almost hear their whispers, filled with ill-concealed inquisitiveness and detriment. It was easy to talk. Two words had so much power that they could turn someone’s world upside down in a matter of days. Hours, even.
“You don’t know anything about what I went through” you gritted your teeth.
He got up and poured himself a glass of whiskey, as his could feel his unmoved facade was starting to falter. “Now you’re going to tell me a fake heartbreaking story, trying to get me to pity you, aren’t you?” he mocked you, drinking it in one go. “You wanted to do the same to me, after all”
His harsh words were like punch in the gut. He was nowhere hear the truth, but the distance in his eyes made you feel like it didn’t matter what you’d tell him, he wouldn’t believe you anyway. He probably already had his own version of the truth. “So you’re going to judge me without even listening to what I have to say?”
“I want to hear what you have to say” he snapped, slamming his glass on the desk, avoiding your gaze for the first time. “I want a fucking explanation” he growled.
You nodded, looking away from him. As hard as it was to talk about it, there was no use in beating around the bush. Being straightforward was the best way of getting on with it. “It’s true” you stated. “I killed my first husband”
He shot his eyes towards you, not expecting you to actually admit it. If you had to be honest, you didn’t expect it either, your own voice seemed foreign as you said those words out loud for the first time. He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it right away, deciding to let you talk instead.
“My father needed an alliance with him to expand his business, so he arranged our marriage” you added, crossing your arms. “I didn’t even know him. On our first night, I refused to sleep with him. He beat me with a cane”
He clenched his jaws at your words. That explained the scars on your body, the way you hid them and the reason why you would never tell him how you’d get them. The feelings he felt for you overpowered the bitterness for a moment, the thought of someone hurting you made his blood boil.
“At some point, I managed to take it from him and I hit him on the head. My family covered it up and I wasn’t charged”
The more you talked, the more you realised that there was no going back. He was about to know the whole truth, he was about to decide whether to believe you or throw you away, because he couldn’t risk it.
“After his death, my father arranged another marriage. I didn’t like the man, but he was decent. He died from a disease, I didn’t kill him. Of course, word spread and everyone believed I had poisoned him or something like that. After that, I cut contact with my family, packed my bags, changed my surname and moved here. That’s all”
That’s all. Like it hadn’t been the hardest time of your life. Like it hadn’t been more then a simple change. But you couldn’t afford to let your feelings get the best of you, not after all you had done to come to terms with what happened to you.
Luca didn’t know what hit him the most, your story or the way you had told it. The emptiness in your eyes, the coldness in your voice. Or maybe your calmness. It seemed like you were telling someone else’s experience, not your own. But could he really trust you? Or it was just a trick to make him end up in a wooden box, just like the others?
“You’re telling me that as if it doesn’t touch you”
“What, did you expect me to cry?” you narrowed your eyes, turning to him again. “That would be the right reaction to what happened to me, wouldn’t it?” you rhetorically asked.
He blinked, taken aback by you question. He tried to say something, but you interrupted him. “You know, my reaction is exactly the reason why people started talking. You have to act like a victim, or else you’re the guilty one. But I’m not a victim and I don’t need anyone’s compassion. Not even yours” you added, taking a few steps towards him.
Your tone might have been calm, but the almost imperceptible tremble in your voice gave away the stream of feelings running inside of you.
“I’m independent, I run my own company” you paused, stopping just a few inches away from him. “I didn’t need their money, or yours. You can choose to believe me, or you can leave”
You steadied your voice, looking him straight in the eyes. You didn’t want him to leave, a small voice in the back of your mind was begging him to stay. You didn’t listen to it, though. You loved Luca, you truly loved him and the fact that he thought you could ever hurt him was killing you. But it was his choice. He was free to leave, if he wanted. It didn’t matter how much it hurt, you would find a way to go on, like you always did.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Something changed in him, his gaze softened, his voice dropped. It seemed like rage wasn’t blinding him anymore, leaving space for the tenderness he only reserved for you.
“I didn’t want my past to define me” you admitted. “I wanted to leave it behind me, I didn’t want you to look at me and see...” you stopped, not knowing how to express it with words. “I’m more than that”
Luca looked at you in silence. He still had the woman he loved in front of him. You were the same woman he had met the previous year. Everything you were slowly building together felt too genuine and spontaneous to be fake. No one could lie like that. Maybe it was risky, but something in him knew told him you were telling the truth. He knew you were telling the truth. You did what you needed to do to survive. He brought a hand on your cheek, gently stroking it.
“What I see” he said “is a strong, beautiful, independent woman who went through a lot, but who’s capable of making it on her own, without anyone’s help”
You leaned into his touch and placed you hand over his, relieved at his words. Luca was he only man you had ever loved and trusted and the prospect of a life without him terrified you. It would’ve been way too hard to pick up the pieces and find a reason to go on, it would’ve taken too much time for your heart to heal. You had finally found something you wanted to hold on to.
And he loved you too much to leave you.
“I would never hurt you” you whispered “I love you”
He leaned in and kissed you. At first it was soft, tender, until it became desperate, almost rough. He grabbed your waist and pulled you closer, as you brought your hand to the back of his neck.
He slightly moved away, placing two fingers under your chin to make you look at him. “No more secrets”
“No more secrets”
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