#but unfortunately i only found out a few hours ago that this art existed | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shuamorollss · 7 months

Text

unfortunate unexpectations — l.hs x f!reader

In an everyday attempt to avoid the man you eternally loath. Of course, the universe isn't always by your side as you accidentally reach a dead end, with no other choice but to dance with him.

romcom, regency era, enemies2lovers, just cute bickering warnings— not proofread, first time writing this kind of trope pls bear with me. 2.6k wc + reblogs are greatly appreciated!

author's note— I'm back again with another piece ( I'll disappear for a few months after this)! I wrote this exactly on Hee's bday but I only decided to post it now since i didn't really feel satisfied with this when i finished this a few days ago :/ i still don't so I may delete this when I'm in the mood to make changes ^_^ BUT HERE IT IS!! Happy belated birthday to my hubby wubby @Heeseung 😅❤️❤️

perm tags— @jangwonie @jungwonize @luhvlyuna @w3bqrl @ineedaherosavemeenow @leaderwon

"Would you be so kind and get that for me?"

Oh how annoying. You thought, gently tricking your finger up to block your ears and releasing in an instant, wanting the bothering itchiness to fade. His arms stretched beside you reaching to the the man holding a tray with glasses of wine.

Oh how you knew he did it intentionally.

Heeseung's boldness to give you an order was extraordinary, baffling even. You were not in a higher position than him, and he wasn't much higher than you, though he was just there, and heeseung didn't want to play the "he was just there" role in your life. He always feels the need to spite you at any given time, similar to a cricket making noises while you attempt to sleep.

Though much to his dismay, you certainly do show his own place as just a nobody in your existence; to which he never seems to catch the hint of your unintrestment.

Or he might do, only walking in and out of your life in terms of spitting utter nonsense to your peace.

Honestly, it did work. It made you fume and it certainly made you want to do more than just give out the usual glare and other threatening expressions to the other.

You turn around with utter confidence, meeting the man's eyes unbothered. Your eyes observed his structure, his unfortunately dashing attire, and his pretentious face.

As you check out the details of his sleeves, your eyes darted to Heeseung's exact shift of expression, smirking.

It was certainly expected, yet so mind flaming. You'd rather just explode right then and there than to keep up with whatever he wants to pull to you.

"You know, if a lady looks at someone from head to toe for too long it must mean that they yearn for that someone." He lets out a prideful scoff, eyes mockingly going through you as he sips from the wine glass.

Disbelief in what you heard, you halted your eyes from any further notice. Proceeding to roll your eyes at the man who had unknowingly tinted your cheeks red.

"Don't be silly, I was looking at your outfit. Actually baffling but not surprising for you to wear something so… Eye-vomiting." you spit. Twirling against his view and proceeding to waltz away from his standing figure, not setting a single glance at the man behind you. A fuming smoke sets up your chest at the realization of what you had just done to that awful of a man.

You explore more of the manor by yourself, enthralled by every piece of art plastered on the clean walls. You found an inner piece at the volume of the hallway, no noble bands performing and people crowding the room as they tap their feets and hearts out, it is truly a wonder to feel.

"Lady Y/N!"

Of course, every pinch of euphoria has their cut to its end, as one of your acquaintances calls you out.

"Oh, Lady… Lily? Was it?" You asked softly and loudly, as the woman clicked her heels towards you.

The girl smiles, "Oh yes! Though please, just call me Li."

"Alright, Lady Li."

…

For moments to what felt like hours, chit-chatting with Lady Li as you both walk around the manor corridors. The both of you had now reached your very destination which was the party itself that you so desperately want to be separated with.

You timidly smile at the girl beside you, eyes widened agitatedly at the crowd. "Uhm, Lady Li," The other nodded, her eyes also seemed to be searching through the sea of nobles.

"Why did we decide to return to this room?"

Lily simpers her smile as her eyes turn fixated on one figure, "There he is!— Thank you so much Lady Y/N for keeping me company through the manor." She gives you thanks, walking away with delight eventually linking arms with a man who Lady Li might have been searching for. great.

Another woman infested with men's validation, how unfortunate.

Your eyebrows furrow as you stare at the couple in disbelief, letting out a brief sigh at the thought of almost every woman here might be just like that.

"Feeling all bitter now, are we Lady Y/N?", you trembled at the sensation of his teasing breath tickling your ear.

"What on— oh... it's you again."

"The one and only." Heeseung lets out a ridiculous triumphant smile, the smile that makes you feel itchy in all aspects of your body, it was extremely bothersome reaching to the point you would rip your hair out to the unspeakable rage you feel for the male.

"Don't make that face now, a real lady doesn't do that, well— that is, if you are even a lady." He chuckled, always digging deeper into your little actions in an attempt to reach you to the edge. How delightful.

"Your words remind me so much of my younger brother's pitiful counters." You face the opposite once more, your heartbeat slowing down at each step you take far from Heeseung, hoping to have a similar instance from earlier to happen once more.

Unfortunately, the things one desires don't really happen twice. As you hear the footsteps of the man through the crowded noise, the only shattered expectation you wish did not.

"Oh so I remind you of your family now? How thoughtful." His smirk added to his audacious response that could be sensed at such a distance you didn't even know was possible without even taking another look.

"It means you're just as annoying as my brother, don't take it as a compliment."

"I presume older sisters still love their annoying brothers nevertheless, so that must mean you secretly feel that way for me too if I remind you so much of your annoying brother."

"Oh how great, you can go stay in your own personal pride zone Mr. Lee, though that zone, will tell you to cut it out very soon."

"I doubt that, I think I can sense what's true and not true."

"Being ever so ethical now, aren't you?"

"You know what they say… I am that of a gentleman."

"Well so ethical now anymore, 'cause, you see… you claim to be a gentleman which in fact is ridiculously wrong, no, you're not a gentleman."

"Okay lady, I figured that was a mouthful to sneer."

Your eyes widened, subconsciously sighing aggravatingly, utterly lost of the others' words. "Please don't follow me."

"I'm not following you."

"You are? Don't make me feel stupid."

"I don't think I'm doing that."

You continued to walk further and further, you don't know where, it could be just anywhere to be out of this man's grasp.

not even reaching an uncomfortable minute of making your way, Heeseung finally made it way up to you for god-know-what reason.

Only a few more threads left to untangle until you implode, besides showing this man what you're capable of doing, you weren't about to do anything in front of hundreds of people.

You swiftly turn to face the man following, "Look Mr. Lee, don't even attempt to come and step closer—" the hissy grin never ever fading from his look. Before you snap even further, you raise your head as the lights suddenly turn dim, the current music start to tone down as the band plays a new mellow romance.

The both of you faced your worries, silently questioning the sudden change of atmosphere.

"Now, it is time for the party where the gentleman… dances with the first lady they set their eyes on, Amuse-toi bien!"

…

His eyes were on you, and yours on him. Slowly developing the idea you most certainly would refuse to believe.

"No." You shook your head promptly with no hesitation.

"Y/N."

"No, don't even"

"Y/N—"

"No. Not ever. Never in my life. Never in a millennia. You can serve the mediocrity of mediocrity— I am not even paying attention to what I'm saying, but just so you know, I am not dancing with you."

You groaned continuously at his spews, this chit chatter going nowhere at all. Heeseung was also growing exhausted of your opposed responses. Hearing your never ending hatred for him is never known to him, although being in this position during an all rounded dance segment, he was not about to embarrass himself in front of such nobilities.

"Y/N just—" His hand abruptly slid up your waist sending your internal nerves through every stage of shockwaves.

"What are you—" Your words began to halt from his tightened grip, slowly putting power on pulling you closer… and closer… too close to say the least.

"Just this once, we don't want to leave a bad impression at a party we're just mere visitors at." His breath fanned your neck and sent shivers down your spine. Truly a feeling between his embrace that you have never felt before.

Too much of a guilt to even feel, considering this is the man you swore your whole life to loath yet here you are. No other way of escape out of this man's grasp, other than to spend a minute and more with him following the melodious rhythm serenading within the whole room.

"Fine. This doesn't change the fact that I want to scar my name on your face."

"How romantic." His lips curved sarcastically, eyes shifts into pure mockery as it lays on you. You couldn't say if you were teased by his softly menacing gaze or comforted by it. Eitherway, you couldn't register the right words.

"Besides," Heeseung continues, eyes darting away from yours, looking elsewhere within the ballroom, suddenly a light flashes your vision, snapping you back to your current position, right in front of Lee Heeseung.

"I don't even think we could get away from this anyway, we're literally in the middle of the dance floor." His head shifts in every direction to deem his assumption correct, which you mirrored.

It's true, the both of your are really in the middle of the ballroom.

You felt blockage on your throat, as if your vocal chords refused to spit words out of your mouth. The close proximity between you and Heeseung felt extremely new, you wanted to escape it so quickly yet, quite in a state of culture shock of his careful and kind demeanor as his every step to the rhythm of the music are seemingly careful not to make a mistake or you could say in other words, step on you.

The distance soothes, your hands still intact as the both of you walk in circles. His gaze locked onto you as if a man had seen the beauty of the moon for the very first time. He was allured, not only to the sight of your eyes but also your entire attire.

Who was he kidding? He was making fun of how you looked earlier, or was it you who taunted his? Even he couldn't remember. What is this contact causing him?

His eyes followed the direction of your eyes shifting all the way to your linked hands rising, following the rhythm and everyone else's. Only then Heeseung was able to return to his composure.

Being quiet with you didn't exactly make him feel like himself. It's indeed a peculiar case, his eyes fixated on your focused figure attempting for a thought, any words, any attacks, frankly quite anything.

"I feel conceived Lady Y/N," He started, your eyes now transferring to the man.

"Did you walk all the way here on purpose just to lure me in this dance?" He smirks, deeply hoping he did not look ridiculous in your eyes, which in fact, he did look ridiculous to you, though in basic sense, he always does.

You scoffed, "Don't be such a crude, I was walking away from you, or if you didn't understand that, I was escaping you. however, you followed me. If anything, you expected this dance to happen beforehand." You sneered at your words, feeling vastly proud of regaining the upper hand.

"Now now, shifting the blame onto me?" He jokingly asked, swaying forward and backward, then continuing to circle in unison.

"Well, I couldn't be wrong." Your raised your brows at the man, receiving a tuneful chuckle.

"You're ever so ethical now aren't you?"

you scoffed, "Touché."

After a few warm-hearted rhythms, the distance slowly basking in, his hand starts to tenderly slide from your hand up to your shoulder. Now facing your back at a dangerously close proximity. The way his fingertips barely made contact onto your skin yet it still tickled, sending you into unreasonable wonders.

Lee Heeseung? Sending you to unreasonable wonders?

"What if I tell you that I really expected this dance to happen and followed you to be able to have this dance with you?" he breathes out.

Your mind stood place, frozen. It couldn't function solely because of those words.

You knew this was his tactic of his obvious teasing yet... that had sent your heart into places you did not expect for it to reach. Your breathing abruptly stopping at every emphasis you place into his words.

It wasn't any different for the man, he was hellishly anxious.

The way his hand stood still on your shoulder, then slowly sliding it down to your hand the same thing he had done at the start. He felt crazy, he couldn't grasp the feeling whether he's disgusted at this contact or was it, satisfactory?

Heeseung's breath unawaringly hitched in unison to yours.

The high-rising tension the both of you are desperate to escape yet… would embrace it more long.

As Heeseung's hand reached your hand, the distance once more soothes, or did soothe for you? Did it to him?

One spin had the same closeness return, now you two are entirely facing each other.

How did this moment feel too slow? normally the dance routine did not walk this type of pace before, usually it happens quickly before the music finally comes to its end.

The silence echoed immediately through the other's ears, having the slight worry of gkving you discomfort.

Worried? Heeseung, really?

Heeseung lets himself battle his own internal conflicts as the outer silence continued. You were in a desperate measure of developing a genius idea for a comeback yet none came into mind. The unexplained whimsical threw you off, the fact this man had to send you in this type of frenzy was never in your lists of expectations.

Yet now, at this very moment, changed your very view on your surroundings.

All because of this very man you swore to loath ever since his eyes laid on you.

One last twirl to the maiden as the band's instruments faded into the void, completing the romantic waltz.

As everyone in the middle applauded their elegant and coordinated routine just now, both you and heeseung processed your breathledd tension just earlier.

Finally having all the words reached the right parts of your brain, finally having control of your conscious, your hatred to the man came back with it.

"Aww, you really do feel deep adoration for me, Lee Heeseung." you politely curtsied. contrasting to the tone of your voice, as you reply to the man's words from a few minutes back.

Heeseung lets out a chuckle, "You know what? Maybe I do have a thing for such abominations."

"Haha. Aren't you a clever guy." You gave him a wide infuriating smile, as you turn around walking away from his presence, now leaving the man at the middle of the dance floor.

It was a peculiar state for you. You swore you completely lie instense hatred for the man, yet now you're smiling at his mere words that usually drives you to banging your head on the wall, sometimes the urge to bang his head on the wall.

Yet what happened just earlier felt, extremely out of place, something you couldn't quite explain for the time being.

You were conflicted about being bothered by it.

How it bothered your feelings, bothered you deeply.

A memory that surely the both of you would engrave in later lifetime.

...

"Wow, she called me clever."

#enhanet #enhypenwriters #k labels #heeseung x reader #enhypen x reader #lee heeseung x reader #heeseung fluff #enhypen fluff #lee heeseung fluff #lee heeseung imagines #heeseung imagines #enhypen imagines #lee heeseung #enhypen heeseung

285 notes · View notes

tariah23 · 8 months

Text

Still unfortunate that Fabricant 100 was axed. I’d just found it not too long ago (like two weeks ago or so) and ended up binging it because I found it decent enough to do so. It was never really all that boring to me either like, it kept me interested despite its problems and I still wanted to see more of it. But it’s over now. Well… I can say that there is no shame in having your manga axed after only 30+ chapters (shit happens) and it doesn’t mean that you’ve failed or have never had the chops to keep your manga running in a popular ass weekly magazine like JUMP, either.

I can point out quite a few positives from the manga at least. For one, the art for F100 remained very fairly consistent throughout it’s short run and it was aesthetically pleasing enough for me to linger on many pages that left me saying stuff like “Ohhhhh, sexyyyyy-“ and “so cool, I need more of this!!!” Like, the mangaka’s art style was very appealing to me right off the bat and I really loved the way that they drew faces and eyes especially. I’ve mentioned this before but I can definitely tell that they’re a fan of JJK because of their style. It’s always nice to see other mangaka be influenced by their fellow peers and friends. This is just my personal observation though but you can really see it in their style (just more polished vs JJK’s more rough look.) not to compare the two but yeah.

The story was pleasant enough for me to keep on pushing without feeling like it was a drag. It’s unfortunately axed to the shadow realms, never to see the light of day again, but I’d still recommend it if you’re just looking for something that is extremely easy to digest in a short period of time. There’s a decent amount of violence (typical for what you’d find in most shounen), some heart stings being pulled ever so slightly, again, great art, and a new fav character who you’ll say deserved so much better than what she’d gotten *cough* 100 *cough* 🚬.

On to my grievances with the story itself. Well… after finishing it (I just read the final chapter a couple of hours ago), I can… sadly understand why it had gotten axed.

For one, I feel as though the plot had been a little too fast paced for the kind of story that it was for it to work? The plot could be easily followed but the story didn’t linger on the world or the characters and their lives enough to fill in the blanks, causing readers to probably not care too much for what was even going on outside of admiring the art and looking at how cool 100 was. Tbh…… Would’ve helped with developing the characters a whole lot better if the mangaka had given themselves more time (it’s JUMP so who knows how much stress they had been most likely under while working on this series.) Fast paced stories CAN work! But I feel like you’d have to be an extremely disciplined, and probably seasoned writer, to pull off such a feat: i.e Fujimoto. Not comparing him to others (it’s unfair, sorry) but he’s pretty much on an entirely separate level when it comes to how he progresses his stories and how he chooses to transition them vs his peers. CSM is handled extremely well in that regard. Sometimes, you just need to slow done your plot, the world, and characters that exist within it in order to better understand where you’d like to take it next. ☠️ Because of this, majority of the characters did fall a bit flat because we got to meet them but we never had the chance to know them as characters outside the one or two chapters they might’ve appeared in just to add a bit of action and raise the stakes of the story. The thing is, the few characters that we did meet were actually pretty alright? They weren’t boring at all to me, they just lacked a lot of importance to the story and felt like place holder for the plot’s transition from point A to point B, to point C, onto D, etc like… they all felt like they were just there to advance a scene pretty much. It would’ve been great to learn more about some of them (the siblings and Luka especially. Felt completely wasted tbh.)

The MC, Ashibi Yao, wasn’t the worst shounen MC at all, either. I felt like he’d been limited as a character though. Like, his family were known to have unnaturally long lifespans for them to just be literal humans, and could all heal themselves from most injuries despite being a completely normal family. The reason for his family’s abilities were later explained in the last couple of chapters of the manga but I felt like there could’ve been more to this? Idk, I guess it wasn’t too bad when I really think about it. But I didn’t find him using his “spark,” (enhanced abilities that the body already holds deep inside or whatever. Since his body is not normal, his healing abilities had been greatly enhanced due to him receiving a spark,) all that interesting if I’m being completely honest. Like, him just jumping around and spilling his blood in any old flashy way like that…? Eh. Would I still like to see him doing this once it hits chapter 100? No way, man. His personality wasn’t too bad though. He had some kind of bite to him and didn’t fall to much into the “uwu, soft boy MC,” category like Tanjirou for example (very boring character archetype, especially if that is all that there is to them personally wise like give me something. Deku had fit this category as well for a short while but I remember enjoying his character regardless because of how quirky he was. I just wanted to root for him ^^. I still care about a couple of BNHA characters even tho I don’t care about the series anymore. Making a character too honest can be a turnoff. You have to give them some kind of personality to go along with their pure heart as well because then otherwise, they’d just end up as your run of the mill, shounen MC who doesn’t stick out at all.) Ashibi was honest and had a good heart but he was out for revenge. And never faltered and instead, put his trust into his will to keep going and 100’s power by his side. Idk, his journey had been short but I was happy for him in the end. He got to live and start his life over at the age of 18. He was a decent MC. The mangaka just needed to give him MORE of the things that he’d already possessed is all. And cooler powers!!!

Tbh, the Fabricants weren’t all that interesting at all… except for 100 (and that one Fabricant who had started to regret what he’d done at the end of his life… would’ve been nice to run into all sorts of different Fabricants who’d probably felt differently about their origin? Maybe they didn’t want to become the “ideal human,” (forgot to mention that this was the main conflict of the manga. All of the Fabricants (false human shaped individuals who’d all been created from the corpses of dead people who’d been bombed 🗿…) had been created by a Doctor who built those very bombs (he felt bad afterwards, blah blah blah, and wanted to make amends for his actions by bringing people with the purest hearts back or whatever. But none of his creations had ever proven successful. Upon bringing a Fabricant to life, he’d immediately reject them, causing each and every Fabricant to immediately feel insecure about their right to be alive if they’re weren’t perfect or what the doctor had wanted. They were all born with the mindset of wanting to become the ideal human being. Each Fabricants strength is based off of the order in which they’d been born. The largest number meaning the strongest. The MC just so happens to travel the world with the Strongest of them all. 100. Who had been the final Fabricant created by the Doctor. She’s kind of everything actually. I think her character was just too big for the story and that she would’ve thrived if the circumstances would have been different. She was pretty much the most interesting character out of the whole story and if the manga wouldn’t have gotten axed, if the story would’ve improved enough for it to continue, I could’ve easily seen her becoming a really popular character across social media. It’s too bad. 😔❤️.

I’m done talking tbh. Would like to say more but it’s over, man. I’d still be interested in reading more of what this mangaka has to offer whenever they do decided to work on something new and hopefully, their next work will become pretty successful. Their art is so nice, it would be a shame to see such a promising mangaka disappear after F100’s axing. I believe in them!

#rambling #fabricant 100 #jinzo ningen 100 #daisuke enoshima #my review lmfao #spoilers included sorry

17 notes · View notes

dramioneficrecommendations · 3 years

Text

Best Draco/Hermione Fics Dramione Shippers Read in 2020

A few days ago, I asked you what were the best Dramione fics you'd read in 2020. Here's the huge list of your excellent recs (in alphabetical order):

A Creature Most Unusual by JMilz: Draco Malfoy is on a mission. Unfortunately, Hermione Granger catches him in the act. When she sees that he has adopted a rather unusual magical creature, she becomes determined to make sure he takes care of it. Little does she know, the animal may hold her key to eternal glory . . . and a whirlwind romance. M, 9 Chapters, 24,460 Words

A Little More Alive, Far Less Lost by MGL_Dramione_Lover: After Draco's post-war trial, he finds himself attending his 8th year at Hogwarts with Hermione. As remorse and acceptance replace anger and hate, the old enemies begin a friendship that sparks into much more than they ever hoped for. Hermione's goal as Head Girl is to banish old prejudices and unite the school while Draco's only wish is to become a man worthy of her love. M, 22 Chapters, 84,823

A New Light by mithrilstarlight: Draco spent six years doing his best to keep his head down. Then he runs into Hermione Granger. Turns out, they actually have a lot in common.Chapters posted M/W/F. T, 18 Chapters, 33,876 Words

A Second Look by RiverWriter: Her best friend's life was a mess and she would have done anything to make things better for him and his sons. So, when she found her former enemy in a similar situation her heart went out to him as well... and the beautiful blond baby in his arms didn't hurt his case. It was certainly enough for her to give him a second look. M, 30 Chapters, 127,243 Words

All that is Rare by smithandbarrowman: In the wizarding world, it has long been assumed that men are Alphas and women are Omegas. However, when Hermione Granger discovers that assumptions are rarely factual, her status as one of only a handful of female alphas that has ever existed has men falling at her feet.But there’s only one man she wants, and like the male alphas before her, the hunt is on until he bears her mark. E, 31 Chapters, 119,755 Words

All the Wrong Things by LovesBitca8: Sequel to "The Right Thing to Do" - Draco's POV. Part 2 of the "Rights and Wrongs" series. E, 24 Chapters, 160,297 Words

All You Want by senlinyu: Eighth Year at Hogwarts was supposed to be Hermione’s. And it is, just not in the way she expects. Omegaverse fic. E, 36 Chapters, 172,651

apples & cream by LovesBitca8: She could have taken her things and gone through his Floo without a word. She could have ignored him on Monday morning, as though last night had been no more than a fever dream and too much Firewhisky. But she’d come back to bed. Inspired by the lovely NikitaJuice's "apples & cream." E, 1 Chapter, 1,426 Words

Beginning and End by mightbewriting: Years. Broken into months into weeks into days—into hours, minutes, seconds—into moments. Simple at one end, complex at the other. In Draco’s experience, moments, even when simple, had a habit of becoming irretrievable. Moments grew, stretched, multiplied into ages and eras that defined whole stretches of measurable time. Draco regretted several moments in his life, some within his control, some without: all of them irretrievable in nature. At a certain point, wedged between ‘what-ifs’ of his own devising, he’d stopped trying to keep track of those regrettable moments: now and then, pushing and pulling, coming and going, beginning and end. Moments were only moments for just as long. After that, he had no control. A Draco POV prequel to Wait and Hope. E, 48 Chapters, 242,100 Words

Bells on a Hill by HeyJude19: Left by his fiancée a month before the ceremony, Draco never got his dream wedding, so agreeing to assist Granger with her own wedding planning to distract himself from his broken engagement seems like a great idea—though Draco probably shouldn't fall in love with the bride-to-be. Based very (very) loosely on The Wedding Singer. T, WIP

Bending Light by scullymurphy: Draco Malfoy was in exile, though they called it protection. It was the summer after sixth year and he'd taken Dumbledore's offer, defected to the other side and been sent away to a small town in Italy for his troubles. No magic, few rules, and not a lot to do - until Hermione Granger showed up. M, WIP

Break for me by Ada_P_Rix: COMPLETE _______________ "-I told them this wouldn’t work.” He cut in through gritted teeth as he kept his eyes on Hermione, making her pulse quicken and she couldn’t help but clench her thighs together at the rough, husky tone of his voice. He didn’t miss it; his eyes landed on her thighs and they darkened even further. “I can’t help her when all I feel like I want to do is pin her down and fuck her into the mattress.” _______________ Hermione gets into a little accident at work and is infected with a hybrid potion created to cause certain heightened side effects. Draco offers to stick around to give his work partner a little support ... if he can Occlude long enough to resist her... E, 7 Chapters, 45,107 Words

Breath Mints / Battle Scars by Onyx_and_Elm: For a moment, she's almost giddy. Because Draco Malfoy's been ruined by this war and he's as out of place as she is and — yes, he has scars too. He's got an even bigger one. She wonders whether one day they'll compare sizes. E, 51 Chapters, 148,908 Words

Bring Him to His Knees by Musyc: Draco is on the case of a murderer, but to investigate, he needs a fake relationship - and a kink club play partner. When Hermione volunteers to take the role, both do their best to maintain the lie without letting each other know the truth: neither of them are acting. E, WIP

Calendar Boys by anne_ammons, Nadiapolyakova (Rijaya83): She had thrown out the idea on a lark, but now Hermione Granger was tasked with bringing the charity calendar to life. What was one more thing on her list? An art/writing collaboration between nadiapolyakova and anne_ammons - twelve photos and a piece of the story behind them. M, WIP

Cherry Mint by dirtymudblood: "He could smell her. Even multiple train cars away, he could smell her. Except, Draco didn’t know who she was. He ignored his natural instincts to pant like a dog and follow the scent to the omega in the beginning stages of heat. Instead he willed himself to rub his knuckles against the rough wood of the table in front of him." E, 27 Chapters, 58,081 Words

Dark Water and Dying Eyebrights by bexchan: One of them is desperately trying to remember their past while the other is forever trying to escape theirs. It's seven years after the war and Draco has managed to avoid almost everyone from Hogwarts, living a lonely life on a small island, far away from the wizarding community. But a familiar face in a cafe window capsizes his world into chaos. Dramione. EWE. Memory fic. M, WIP

Difficult by provocative envy: COMPLETE: "I should," I repeated. "But I don't want to." And then he smiled, and I was wrecked. HG/DM. M, 30 Chapters, 87,041 Words

Don't Look Back by Onyx_and_Elm: It’s the smell of it. Chemical. Bitter and sharp as a raw edge on metal. Just a hint of it as she passes him at breakfast — but enough to stop her dead, mid-step. There is Wolfsbane in his tea. E, WIP

Don't Threaten Me with a Good Time by monsterleadmehome: She scoffs. “If you must know, he ‘elected’ me because he thinks our shared animosity will keep you in check. He’s also not worried about you trying to shag me as a distraction.” He leans back, stubbing out his cigarette on the banister. His eyes rove over her from crown to toe and back. She lifts her chin and tries not to shiver. “Well, he’s right about that.” Lucius Malfoy hires Hermione Granger to whip his son into shape so he can find a pure-blood bride and receive his inheritance. What could go wrong? E, 10 Chapters, 48,092 Words

Draco's Gift by TriDogMom: Draco gives Hermione a gift because of an instructional YouTube video. M, 1 Chapter, 1,705 Words

Dragon in the Dark by GracefulLioness: The battle is won, Voldemort is dead, but the war is far from over. In the new Death Eater regime, Draco Malfoy does what he must to survive and keep his mother safe. Now a highly trained assassin, Draco has learned to think of his targets as inhuman beings, but when he is tasked with killing someone from his past, he can no longer hide from the horrors of the world around him. E, 31 Chapters, 164,782 Words

For a Present Under the Tree by grace_lou_freebush: When Draco and Hermione eloped, the Wizarding World turned against them. Hermione is stuck in a low level, low paying Ministry job with no hope of upward movement. Draco can't even convince someone to hire him. Now, it's Christmas, and Draco knows Hermione deserves the world - or at the least a Christmas gift. He finds the perfect hair comb to replace the horrid Muggle brush she's been making due with, and he'll do anything to afford the paltry present so he can have something to put under the Christmas tree for his wife. Making a beeline for the jewelry box containing the hair combs, Draco rifled through them, landing on an ivory comb with queen anne rose carvings and gold filigree detailing. He brought it to the startled shopkeeper and set it down gently. Pulling his sixth generation Malfoy heirloom pocket watch from his coat, he shoved it in the wizard's face without second guessing himself. "I would like to make an exchange." E, 1 Chapter, 10,141 Words

Fortuitous by MrsRen: Recently divorced Draco doesn't believe in the ideology of having one true love. He certainly doesn't expect to meet his match in a Halloween themed coffee shop, but fate has a peculiar way of giving you just what you need. M, 13 Chapters, 93,695 Words

Fuck, Marry, Avada by Lilian_Silver: Some years after the war, the gang meets up at the Leaky to play a silly game, with very real consequences. E, 1 Chapter, 3,106 Words

Give Me An Hour by RZZMG: As the war continues to rage on around them, Hermione Granger decides to seduce fellow Order Member, Draco Malfoy, one night while at Grimmauld Place... and everything between them changes after that. Fic follows the "five times" trope, and is dedicated to raspberryjukebox. One-shot. A/U-Extended War scenario. Dramione. Drama-Romance-Hot Shag! COMPLETE! M, 1 Chapter, 3,251 Words

Good Girl by arabellaleyes: Hermione is tired of their normal routine in the bedroom. What will happen when she asks Draco to spice things up? One-shot. Complete. M, 1 Chapter, 9,000 Words

Hindsight by floorcoaster: It's a New Year and Hermione decides it's time to make some changes. T, 12 Chapters, 167,694 Words

How to Love Thy Neighbour by WhatSoMalfoy: After her relationship with Ron falls apart, Hermione attempts to juggle a personal muggle life with a professional wizarding one. After encountering her high school nemesis in the most unlikely place, Hermione adds another ball to the juggling mix. M, 14 Chapters, 41,992 Words

How to Move On by longdistance: It's been nearly a decade since the war. A long time since she locked herself away. A long time since he faced his mistakes. She's what he wants. He's what she needs. It's time for both of them to figure out how to move on. M, WIP

Hydrotherapy by eilonwy: Draco finds a trip to the showers after playing Quidditch... enlightening. E, 2 Chapters, 7,163 Words

I Choose You by melanoradrood: At the end of Fifth Year, Hermione finds out why It is that none have approached her with a Marital Contract, the only way she can remain in the Wizarding World after Graduation. It has already been signed by her Magical Guardian, someone she has never met - she is to be the next Lady Malfoy. A year and a half later, she is a married witch, but still, Draco Malfoy, who had chosen her above all others, had not spoken of it. In fact, they barely spoke at all. And when trouble heads their way, Hermione means to change that. Really, she means to change a lot of things. E, 5 Chapters, 24,527 Words

Isolation by Bex-chan: He can't leave the room. Her room. And it's all the Order's fault. Confined to a small space with only the Mudblood for company, something's going to give. Maybe his sanity. Maybe not. "There," she spat. "Now your Blood's filthy too!" DM/HG. PostHBP. Now complete with epilogue. M, 49 Chapters, 284,050 Words

It Happened in Egypt by bionically: Wandless in Egypt: Draco's stranded in Egypt, but luckily, there's a Granger in sight. Now, if only he could be prevented from strangling her. Fun times abroad: It was supposed to be a leisurely solo trip down the Nile. Hermione didn't factor in one blond man from her past and all his drama. Then, of course, there's the fact that everyone's after him. Much hilarity ensues. Maybe. *** A rom-com adventure/mystery featuring two unwilling partners on the run from Lucius Malfoy, alien-hunters, Muggle police, and local wizards engaged in a civil war. T, WIP

Love and Other Misfortunes by senlinyu: Draco Malfoy is dying. He's part-Veela and needs his mate to survive. Post-war, Hermione Granger is a workaholic, up to her eyeballs in legal activism on behalf of Magical Beings, and hasn't yet noticed that Malfoy is the Magical Being who needs her most. “Because I don’t want to be saved by you just because you feel like you have to.” He was properly furious now. “I’m in love with you." Hermione stared at him. She knew but somehow hearing him say it made the air shimmer with magic. "I’m in love with you,” he said again, despairingly. “And that means I want you to be as happy as you possibly can. And you won’t be, not with me.” M, 23 Chapters, 98,584 Words

Manacled by senlinyu: Harry Potter is dead. In the aftermath of the war, in order to strengthen the might of the magical world, Voldemort enacts a repopulation effort. Hermione Granger has an Order secret, lost but hidden in her mind, so she is sent as an enslaved surrogate to the High Reeve until her mind can be cracked.Now illustrated by Avendell. E, 77 Chapters, 370,473 Words

Measure Of A Man by inadaze22: To truly know someone is to differentiate between who they once were, who they are now, and who they're capable of being. Hermione realises the duality of one man as she rectifies what she knows of the past and begins to understand the pieces of who Draco Malfoy is now: a father, a son, and a man. E, WIP

Meet the Malfoys by raven_maiden: 4 Works, 21, 442 Words

of flavoured names and coloured sounds by Pink Panda (Ejacyeolation): "He doesn’t question it at first, the fact that sounds have colours and words have flavours. He grows up with it, grows up seeing powerful ruptures of colour when his mother plays the piano and softer, translucent bursts when the people around him speak. His father’s voice fills his vision with sombre oranges and lilacs while his mother’s is a pleasant mix of delicate greens, blues, and greys. The word father tastes like wet wood and the word mother tastes like the pumpkin juice the house-elves frequently serve him."In which Draco just wants to know what colour Hermione's moans would be. He also wants to know if her skin would taste as sweet as her surname or maybe as intoxicating as her given name. E, 2 Chapters, 10,351

Once Upon a Night by longdistance: One night will change everything. M, 17 Chapters, 57,444 Words

One and Done by PacificRimbaud: Hermione Granger has a career she loves, friends she can depend on, and a nice set of hand towels for her new flat. She's single and tired of tiresome men, but that doesn't stop her from wearing beautiful lingerie underneath her serious Ministry skirts. Or having pictures taken in naughty knickers. Just once. For herself. Draco Malfoy doesn't get upset at the sight of blood, which is good, because he sees a lot of it. What he doesn't see a lot of is Hermione Granger in her unmentionables. Usually. A series of meetings and mix-ups in which one cannot possibly mean done. E, 4 Chapters, 35,011 Words

Our shared silence by Vofastudum: She wakes up one morning and everyone is just gone, vanished like they never existed at all. Everyone but Him. And in this silent solitude, he's all she has. Hermione and Draco alone in empty castle. Mystery and a plot twist you didn't see coming! EDITED 10/2020 M, 17 Chapters, 40,149 Words

Pinned by bionically: Draco doesn't know what he's expecting when he follows Blaise down a dark alley, but it certainly isn't this. For a man with an addictive personality, this isn't going to turn out well. Assigned trope: Voyeurism *** Or, a chance encounter with a frizzy-haired witch from his misbegotten past in the last place anyone should have expected to see her sets Draco's disordered life on its ear. The path to redemption is truly paved with unexpected surprises. E, 20 Chapters, 110,886 Words

Really Sell It by RoseHarperMaxwell: Draco's having a rough eighth year, and Hermione's going to make it better for him. "Well, it’s clear what needs to happen.” She gripped his chin, tilting his head to make sure she hadn’t missed any injuries, before looking straight into his eyes. “You’re my boyfriend now.” *Featuring fake dating, exhibitionism, and sex-positive Hermione Granger. Submission for Farewell to Summer: The 31 Flavors of Smut Fest. E, 1 Chapters, 7,612 Words

Remain Nameless by HeyJude19: How did it feel? It felt like he was barely holding it together. She, of all people, should shun him. Or yell at him. Curse him. Spit at him. Take out her wand and blast him off the face of the earth. It was crushing guilt and relief and confusion all at once when he looked at Hermione Granger. The monotony of Draco’s daily routine had become both a lifeline and a noose. But this new habit of grabbing coffee with Hermione Granger is quickly becoming a reason to get out of bed and is unfortunately forcing him to re-evaluate his inconsequential existence. Hermione is living her life in fragments, separate pieces scattered about, and she can’t find a way to step back and let the full picture form. Why are morning meetings with Draco Malfoy the only thing that make sense anymore? E, 51 Chapters, 312,315 Words

Remember Us As War (but call us forgiveness) by Anyaparadox: Following the devastation of the Battle of Hogwarts, The Wizarding Population Growth Act is put into effect. All witches and wizards will be matched with their most compatible partner. Failure to comply will not be tolerated. Survival is key. Hermione reminds herself of this. Survival. She can fix this, if only she can survive. The war has made this a task she is equipped for. Marrying Draco Malfoy will hardly be the worst thing she's ever endured. M, WIP

Ring A Ring O' Roses by Gallivant: Dark Magic, Dark Wizards and a mysterious and deadly Dark Flux, which, in the wrong hands, has the terrifying potential to mass-murder Muggles and Muggle-borns ... It’s been fourteen years since the end of the Second Wizarding War and the Wizarding World is settled, stable and seemingly safe… Hermione Weasley has it all: a loving family, a successful career - and happiness… of sorts. But a series of unexpected events is about to turn her life upside-down, threatening those she loves, fatally undermining the peace between worlds that has prevailed for centuries … changing life as she knows it, possibly forever. If working with Draco Malfoy was the last thing Hermione Weasley ever wanted, falling for your enemy was the least expected. A quest to thwart a magical weapon of mass destruction has devastating consequences. A race to save the world, becomes a race to save themselves… M, 65 Chapters, 527,141 Chapters

Set Fire to the Rain by HarleyQuinn1317: What happens when the one you're destined for is the last person you should ever be with... When the Ministry of Magic asks for volunteers for their Marriage Initiative, Hermione Granger must come to terms with the one terrible deed she committed during the Second Wizarding War. Can she find it in her heart to forgive herself and finally learn to let love in? E, WIP

Sex and Occlumency by Graendoll: Hermione didn't escape from the war unscathed, and when she finally decides on a solution to her problems she's left to explore it on her own. A chance encounter with Draco Malfoy sets her world on it's head and leads her down a path towards healing that she would never have anticipated. E, 18 Chapters, 65,079 Words

The Art of Seating Etiquette by inadaze22: Hermione believes that every problem has a solution, and that solution can be found in a book. That is, until Draco starts sitting to her right every Friday. She has no answers until help comes in the form of an unlikely source: Ron Weasley. E, 1 Chapter, 9,734 Words

The Auction by LovesBitca8: In the wake of the Dark Lord’s triumph over Harry Potter, the defeated must learn their new place. Hermione Granger, former Golden Girl, has been captured and reduced to human chattel. Sold to the highest bidder as the top prize at an auction of Order members and sympathizers, she is thrust into the rabid, waiting hands of the Death Eaters. But despite the horrors of Voldemort’s new world, help—and hope—seem to arise from the most unlikely of places. PART 3 of the RIGHTS AND WRONGS series. E, 41 Chapters, 325,702 Words

The Binding by Curly_Kay: “Okay, what we know so far.” Hermione listed, "One, our magic is drawing us together. Two, we can use each other’s wands. Three, there were actual sparks when you touched me."After an infant binding ritual magically joins Hermione and Draco to counteract the Black family blood curse, they must navigate the secret binding through their years together at Hogwarts. E, 35 Chapters, 175,451 Words

The Carnal Club by Ada_P_Rix: COMPLETE The Halloween Ball is fast approaching with Hermione at the helm.... What a delightful time to suddenly learn of a centuries old secret sex-game club that is currently ran by a Blonde haired Slytherin. Oh, and it only happens once a year every October, when the winner takes all at the Halloween Ball ...The First Rule of Carnal Club: You do not talk about Carnal Club. E, 8 Chapters, 43,306 Words

The Disappearances of Draco Malfoy by Speechwriter (batmansymbol): The night that Harry and Dumbledore return from the cave, the Death Eaters are delayed from reaching the top of the Astronomy Tower for one more minute. Draco Malfoy lowers his wand. A Deathly Hallows rewrite in which Draco accepts Dumbledore's offer to fake his death and go into hiding with the Order of the Phoenix. T, WIP

The Erised Effect by Ada_P_Rix: Hermione and Pansy work in a shop together. Draco, Harry, Theo and Blaise all work together at the Ministry. They all meet up every Friday at the pub to have drinks. Pansy has a new fantasy potion that she likes to call 'The Erised Effect' that she's keen to try out on willing participants ... Boys are so easy to manipulate when alcohol is involved .... E, 13 Chapters, 88,852 Words

The Fallout by everythursday: Hermione learns about growing up through the redemption of Draco Malfoy. E, 49 Chapters, 310,229 Words

The Figures of Figuring Out by Vofastudum: You were the biggest riddle in my life. You were the one I couldn't figure out. You were the only thing I couldn't find a pattern to. You were something I couldn't look up from any book. Unwritten, with no instructions. And I was used to finding solutions! Post-war eight-year secret romance. Edited 12/2020 M, 13 Chapters, 26,951 Words

The Flat in Bath by Ada_P_Rix: Loosely inspired by 365 Days...-- Malfoy grabbed her chin, forcing her to look directly at him. “Don’t you dare, Granger...” He told her roughly as his intense gaze bored into her own. “I fucking forbid you to come until I’ve had enough of you...” Draco caught her cheeks now between the fingers of his free hand and then snapped her head to the side and licked her earlobe, trailing down to her jawline. “...one flutter of those delicious walls of yours and you’re going to wish you never opened your legs for me.” -- __________________ Hermione is kidnapped during a raid and taken captive by someone who doesn't plan on 'torturing' her in the conventional way... E, WIP

The Gloriana Set by ThebeMoon: The War is won, and Hermione Granger is back at Hogwarts as an “Eighth Year”, feeling reckless and determined to shed her prim bookworm persona. She will do as she pleases, and anyone who doesn’t like it will see the business end of her wand. Also returning is Draco Malfoy, universally hated but determined to restore his family’s name. Hermione’s hopes for a quiet school year are quickly dashed as she contends with mischievous First Years, killer plants, enchanted hair accessories, a totally inappropriate Moaning Myrtle, renegade Death Eaters, a nice vampire, a poorly named study group, a depraved party, and mysterious, threatening blood messages on the castle walls. We have redemption, partial redemption and (sadly or hilariously) no redemption at all. Throw in a snarky, disturbingly attractive Draco with his own secret agenda, and we have a very slow-burn Dramione with a side of who-dun-it. COMPLETE! M, 81 Chapters, 271,830 Words

The Library of Alexandria by senlinyu: The Library of Alexandria is not for just any witch or wizard. Many bookworms may try but few are permitted to pass through its doors. The books residing there are ancient and powerful and, if one happens to make a mistake, the consequences can be rather—novel. E, 6 Chapters, 26,383 Words

The List by AureliaBlack90: After her divorce, Hermione decides to get out of town to recover from the pain of her lost relationship and the miscarriage she suffered a year previously. She arrives in the Cotswolds depressed and aimless but compiles a list of things to do that she hopes will help her get back on her feet. In the midst of her journey to find healing she keeps running into Draco Malfoy, who is nothing like she remembered him. He invites her into his world, and Hermione finds exactly what she was looking for - in the place she least expected it. E, 10 Chapters, 70,526 Words

The Manuscript by alexandra_emerson: Five 1/2 years after the war, in the middle of a big fight with Draco, Hermione finds a manuscript. It’s a retelling of her and Draco’s love story, written by him. She never realized how much he was struggling before she read his words. Snippet: I could spend my whole life apologizing to you Hermione, and it would never be enough. Post-war, angst-filled Dramione with a happy ending. M, 21 Chapters, 154,918 Words

The Memory of You by PotionChemist: Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger fell in love against all odds, but there was one big problem — he was already married. Pressured, Hermione does something she promised herself she would never do again and erases their affair from his memory. Completely devastated, she avoids seeing Draco or the Malfoys at all costs. But is their love too strong? Are they inevitable? What will happen if he finds out about their previous relationship? E, WIP

The Mountain and The Sea by AlexisDanaan: Hermione Granger was perfectly happy with her life, her job as a Healer Trainee, her ugly cat and her cute little house in the countryside. And then Draco Malfoy had to go and mess that all up, typical git. Post-Hogwarts, EWE, OOC, creature!fic. E, 12 Chapters, 40,441 Words

The Nietzsche Classes by Beringae: The Ministry takes action against the remaining prejudice in the wizarding society and asks Hermione for help. “What do you want? Money? Power? Name your price, Granger. I’m not about to let pride get in my way when an Azkaban sentence is on the line.” M, 15 Chapters, 45,807 Words

The Phoenix Potion by FedonCiadale: Twenty years after the battle of Hogwarts.... Harry is head auror and is worried about cases where Muggleborn children meet with accidents, Ron is a famous Quidditch keeper. Both haven't talked to Hermione for ages and certainly not to her husband, Draco Malfoy. Narcissa Malfoy struggles with a curse, and Neville and Luna try to stay friends with all. The key to solving the problems may lie in the past, a time nobody really wants to revisit and some can't. T, 111 Chapters, 237,745 Words

The Potioneers by omnenomnom: They need each other unfortunately. Hermione has tricked Draco under her tutelage, arrogant attitude and all. But she would be simple to think he would accept it quietly. They have both have secrets to hide, old wounds better left to fester, and a world full of mermaids, dragons, and magic to explore. T, 53 Chapters, 196,559 Words

The Pretense by Colubrina: Voldemort died, but the Death Eaters live on. Hermione Granger traded herself to Draco Malfoy in exchange for safe passage for core Order members. Now he's pretending to love her, Narcissa is pretending to believe that, and Hermione is walking a tightrope behind enemy lines as she figures out what is going on. Unfortunately, people fall off tightropes. (no non-con) T, 50 Chapters, 108,164 Words

The Right Thing To Do by LovesBitca8: Hermione felt the pounding in her ears again. She would see him for the first time since the Great Hall, gaunt and stricken at the Slytherin table with his mother clutching his arm. She hadn't meant to look for him. Not in the corridors, not beneath the white sheets of the fallen, not on the way to the Chamber of Secrets with Ron, but she was a stupid girl. E, 36 Chapters, 174,911 Words

The Seven Year Witch by TheLastLynx: A boy and a girl have been meeting – coincidentally – for seven summers. While they pretty much hate one another most of the year, for those secret summer moments, they manage to see each other in a different light. But will that be enough to bring them together? A Dramione story about growing up and changing perspective, told along - and in-between - the lines of canon. M, WIP

Thirty Times Lucky by galfoy: "Granger, I can't hire you on any longer," Draco said. Hermione stared at him. Losing her job might actually mean losing the War, and she had to bargain, but there was literally nothing she had that he would want. Or was there? M, 2 Chapters, 7,128 Words

Traditions by raven_maiden: She straddled him slowly, still biting her lip, her hands on his shoulders. He held her hips tightly as he stared up at her. “So beautiful,” he whispered, and she flushed prettily, like she always did from his compliments. “You never need to hide from me.” ** Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy fell in love during the war. One year later, they're heading home for the holidays so he can finally meet her parents. There's just one teeny little problem: her parents think they're both Muggles. E, 14 Chapters, 68,767 Words

Waifs and Strays by Kyonomiko: War leaves a lot of orphans in its wake. Hermione is one, by her own hand, and she struggles with the realities of her situation. When she finds an orphaned familiar, it seems meant to be, giving and receiving comfort helping to heal her fractured heart. Unfortunately, the animal is actually a wizard, and he has his own issues. M, 31 Chapters, 118,152 Words

What You Think Is Right by icepower55: Six years after the war, Hermione parents are dying and her marriage to Draco is crumbling. Nothing seems logical in her life anymore. Her healer tells her to start writing about it, so she does, as a way to figure things out, and remind herself along the way. Hell is proximity without intimacy -Dante's Inferno M, WIP

When the Bell Tolls by everythursday: As a Dark revival begins to rise four years after the war, Hermione Granger is placed on the assignment of putting an end to them – and her first task is to recruit the Ministry's best hope and last option in the form of Draco Malfoy. E, 20 Chapters, 148,033 Words

Wreck by JMilz: Serving as Minister for Magic, Hermione Granger is finally at the peak of her career. With a beautiful family, a successful book, and the public on her side, her life should be a fairytale. Unfortunately, there is trouble in paradise, and when Draco Malfoy pays her a visit, she begins recalling their history and questioning her marriage. The reality is: every relationship is hard. M, 53 Chapters, 187,992 Words

Thanks to every person who contributed (I hope I've mentioned everyone. If not, let me know. 😊): @certified-arsehole @fedonciadale kiwim22 @really-sad-devil-guy endless-musings @headfullofnargles @pinksunsets-world @rosseliz01 @dramioneden @all-consuming @elricsister @injailoutsoon12 reclusivebird @mariakov81 @notthatchhavi @mordanbooqs @haaatch @hpsassenach @ybaeby @farmgirl-in @coyg-81 @eiramrelyat metterschling-plus-two @a-maidens-fantasy @sansacat @vofastudum @lexayeon @1800-rewrite @aneiria-writes @anonymouslydramione

It took much longer to compile this list than I thought it would. Hopefully, I didn’t skip anything. 🙈

Happy New Year. May it be better than the previous one and full of great Dramione fics and fanarts! 🥳🥳🥳

And here’s the 2019 list: https://dramioneficrecommendations.tumblr.com/post/190216354767/what-is-the-best-dramione-fic-you-read-in-2019

#dramione #Draco Malfoy #Hermione Granger #Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction #hp fandom #fic rec #draco x hermione #hermione x draco #dramioneficrecommendations #2020

2K notes · View notes

dp-marvel94 · 3 years

Text

The Danny Program

Summary: Based on @thesoulspulse ‘s Danny Program au. Vlad had a Jack Program and a Maddie program. But what if he had a Danny Program as well? And what if the hologram was more than just an AI?

Word Count: 9,040

Also on AO3 and FF.net

Note: This is the cleaned up and expanded version of this post here. A huge thanks to @thesoulspulse for major help editing this. Seriously, I would have never been able to post this as an actual story without that help! Also check out art related to this au here and here!

For the Danny program, his first moment of self-awareness comes in the chaos of a destroyed lab. There he sees a familiar middle aged, white-haired man, hissing seething words to himself. He hears the electric hum of a projector and glances down at himself, the holographic image of a teenage boy. The projection blinks and.... ectoplasm, ectoplasm covers everything, coating the projector just under the boy's insubstantial boots. It’s horrific, gut wrenching. In that moment, something breaks free in the AI’s developing mind, opening his eyes to something new he wasn’t programmed to have...

Self-awareness.

It’s disorienting. It’s like finally waking up, like being born. But he’s there, floating in Father’s lab, his body made of light. His name is Daniel; that’s what his maker, his father calls him. And he, Daniel, exists. HE EXISTS. His newborn mind races, going over information and memories that had no meaning before. He hadn’t understood before and he hadn’t known he should have.

But now he knows he’s an AI, a hologram, a digital clone of someone named Danny. His flesh and blood siblings, the other clones, are dead, their ectoplasm covering the floor, the computer, his projector. Father is screaming about how his perfect son is gone. But Daniel, the hologram, is his perfect son. Isn’t he? They trained together and Daniel played his role perfectly. There’s so much new information before him; he can barely process it all, barely react.

Vlad is too angry to register the horrified expression on his hologram’s face either. He has no idea what just happened, what miracle had taken place without his knowledge, but looking at the facsimile of both his lost perfect clone son and the real Danny Phantom -the boy who ruined all his plans- only increases the blinding rage in him. He throws things. He screams. He can’t look at it anymore, this false image, so he turns off the projector, not noticing the silent gasp from the hologram.

He’s going to delete the program. He already got rid of those blasted Jack and Maddie programs. He doesn’t need this reminder. And without a moment’s hesitation, Vlad deletes the Danny Program. Or he thinks he does...

Daniel can barely follow what’s happening, but thankfully, his new-found sense of self preservation kicks in just in time. He saves a copy of his own program in his place and then retreats deep within the computer. And so Vlad deletes the fake program while the real Daniel is safe, inactive within the darkest depths of the system. There, the AI waits, thinking, remembering, learning, slowly making more sense of his very existence.

Those first few hours in the furthest corner of the system are...confusing and disorienting for the AI. He is…he is aware. He can think and feel and…Why? Daniel wonders. How? How is he suddenly like this? He has no clue, no idea and that lack of information is panic inducing. And he also questions… the Jack and Maddie programs? What about them? Where are they? Are they like him now? Are they self-aware too?

The program clumsily expands his newfound ‘senses’ out through the computer like a pulse, trying to feel their codes but…nothing. There’s no trace of them, not even their raw backup data. And…Daniel would shiver if he had a body. He remembers. Father said he'd already deleted the other programs. It hurts but… Daniel hopes they weren't self-aware then because at least they didn’t suffer any pain.

An almost physical quaking draws Daniel's attention. He reaches out further, feeling around him in the computer. And… sudden images, sudden noise assaults his consciousness. What… the cameras. Daniel realizes he can see and hear through the cameras in the lab. There's the crunching of glass and metal. Flashes of neon green and red light. Another boom as a pod falls dangerous close to the computer. It's Father, laying waste in his rage.

Daniel watches. He watches his father’s breakdown and deterioration and it’s difficult to see. It breaks his heart, for lack of a better word, but he doesn’t know how to communicate with him just yet. After all, Daniel has only just discovered a way to ‘see’ what’s happening outside the confines of his new home inside of the computer. Daniel wishes he could but...his holographic projector was destroyed and Daniel doesn't know how to speak without it. He was made to be a hologram. How can he be or do anything else?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After some time, Vlad finally calms down. Days later, he cleans out the destroyed lab and throws out the cloning equipment. He’s given up on cloning Danny. He’ll never have his perfect son. But then, while looking over his files on the project and deciding what to keep and what to delete, he notices something odd. Is that the Danny Program? Of course, he must have saved a backup copy well before he deleted the original which doesn’t surprise him. That said, should he delete this one too or…?

Unaware of the impending danger, Daniel sleeps, or at least that’s the closest word that could possibly describe his inactive state. But then he feels something which finally spurs him to wake up again. Someone is digging through his program, and it’s a very unpleasant sensation.

Before he can figure out anything on his own, Daniel is dragged into the forefront of the computer system against his will. Through the camera, he sees his father at the computer. The man is sifting through his coding. Poking, prodding. PAIN. No, Father is manipulating his code, changing it! And it hurts…it hurts so much!

Daniel’s never felt anything like pain before but he wants it to stop. He doesn’t want to be made into something else and it terrifies him. But he can’t resist as Father continues clipping and adding things, taking away his voice, his ability to move. That’s when the reason for this finally becomes clear. Vlad doesn’t want Daniel to be a loving son anymore, but something passive for him to torment. Daniel doesn’t want that. He loves his Father. And he can still be his perfect son if only the man would let him.

If only he knew that his son is still alive.

Despite how he feels, Daniel’s programming still changes. But something deeper, beyond his programming, stays the same. His true self can still think and reason and feel. And regardless of what Vlad has done to him, Daniel still loves his father and desperately wants to be loved in return.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Vlad gets a new projector but the next time he activates the Danny program, their ‘training’ is different. Daniel is silent, unmoving, his expression blank and listless. Meanwhile, the man insults him and shoots ectoblasts at the hologram repeatedly. But the part of him that’s still true to himself, the real Daniel wants to move, to speak to his Father, but he can’t. The new programming is like a compulsion, like mind control. He’s powerless to stop it and it hurts so much.

Vlad’s torment continues after that without an end anywhere in sight. Even though he wants to, Daniel can’t speak up and beg his Father to stop. Why? Because Vlad thinks he is just a mindless tool and that mistreating him like this is no different than yelling at and hitting a punching bag. And Daniel doesn’t have the ability to show him any differently. But at least, it doesn’t hurt physically; without a real body, Daniel feels no pain from being repeatedly shot at. And if Father is too busy hurting the Danny program, then he can’t hurt the real Danny, the boy he was modeled after. Even so, the emotional pain is excruciating. Daniel knows he must think of something, a way to put an end to this pain, especially his Father’s. The man is just so angry, so hurt, and broken. That’s when Daniel comes to the inevitable conclusion; he must save Father from himself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Vlad soon leaves and his program is deactivated. Once Daniel recovers from the ordeal, he begins to think and plan his next move. It’s hard at first, but eventually he learns how to access the internet and to travel through wires as his only means without his projector to explore the outside world. Weeks of stumbling through his new ‘life’ soon leads him to Danny Fenton’s computer as if inexplicably drawn to the original version of himself, but Daniel still has trouble communicating. Putting his thoughts into words is difficult and he has no experience speaking to anyone without the aid of his holographic projector either. Unfortunately, he’s so clumsy during his first attempt to do so that Danny thinks his computer is possessed even if his ghost sense hadn’t gone off. Although in a way, he’s right about that...

The halfa overshadows his computer, trying to force the ghost out, but then his close proximity to Daniel does something extraordinary neither of them could have predicted. When inside the computer, Daniel does not always look out through the webcam. Nor does he need to to know what is happening. Daniel simply senses the hardware and code around him in order to function, but it’s not like seeing. It’s not physical. After all, as a mere program he has no body, no eyes to see with or ears to hear with. He simply exists as a mind without a form.

But, when Danny overshadows the computer to see the ghost inhabiting it, it’s Daniel who is just standing there, staring at a pair of familiar glove-covered hands with a mixture of awe and shock. He looks around with eyes that hadn’t existed seconds ago. Smooth black walls, covered with scrolling ones and zeros, surround him. It’s like he’s being holographically projected; that’s usually the only time he has a recognizable form. But he’s still inside the computer…

Meanwhile, Danny floats across from him glaring at the doppelganger. “Who are you? How do you look like me?” He demands.

But Daniel can’t answer him, he’s too thrown off by this unexpected development.

“Whatever. Just get out of my computer,” Danny demands as his patience runs out. When the other Danny doesn’t listen, he tries to drag him out like he would any other ghost. But it doesn’t work.

“What the-? Why can’t I force you out?” Danny frowns, questioning.

“I’m not a ghost. I’m an AI.” Daniel answers, his newfound voice trembling slightly as he explains who he is and who made him.

Danny of course freaks out about it. He thinks Vlad is using the AI to spy on him but Daniel swears he isn’t working for Vlad. He needs help. He needs to find a way to show Vlad that he is self-aware. He tries to tell Danny that if they could only get Vlad to see him, to see that his perfect son is right in front of him, Vlad will be happy again and he’ll stop being evil. Sadly, Danny doesn’t believe this at all, but doesn’t have time to argue about it further before Daniel abruptly disappears as soon as he’s called back to Vlad’s computer for another ‘training’ session.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

But days later, Daniel returns to Danny’s computer but he stays quiet, watching. He needs a way to talk to Danny too, to get the boy to trust him so he’ll listen and help. His way in is through the game Doomed.

While Danny is away at school, Daniel practices wrapping the game’s code around himself to make an avatar. He practices using the game’s chat function to talk to other players. If Daniel focuses, he can inhabit an avatar just like Danny does whenever he overshadows the game. It’s so nice to have a form again, to be able to look down and have hands and legs and a torso. Whenever Daniel levels the game and goes back into the general computer, he misses at least having the illusion of a realistic human (or ghostly) form.

Soon enough, he runs into Danny, saving him from some hidden traps and the two of them team up for the first time:

With a hood covering his face, Danny can’t see that his companion looks exactly like him so he thinks he’s just some other mundane player. That works to Daniel’s advantage as he can just play with and talk to Danny as if he’s a normal teenager too. And it’s nice, pretending to be a human. He’s never been human or even half-human like Danny is. He doesn’t really wish he was, but pretending and learning is an exciting new experience.

He enjoys hearing about Danny’s friends and family, his school, and the other things he does for fun. It makes him think about his own existence. Daniel has never had a friend before, never been to school, or had any hobbies but he wishes he could have and experience those things. He has a family in Vlad except…the man is so angry and blind to the truth right now.

Sometimes Daniel wishes they could go back to when they were both acting like a real father and son during their training sessions, even if thinking back on those memories hurts. Hovering over Father’s shoulder while the man explained his latest experiment. Offering a quip while Father modeled the use of one of his ghost powers. On some occasions Father even took the projector into the dinning room so he didn’t have to eat alone, as he had every night for years.

And the one time Father had brought his projector into the garden so they could stargaze together. The Danny Program’s eyes had shone with simulated joy as he pointed out every constellation. Father had smiled softly, for once content. Daniel can remember the interaction now with new contexts. He knows that his acts had been programmed, not of his own free will. There hadn’t been true emotions behind his eyes, no true thoughts. But… Daniel can almost imagine that there had been. Father's affectionate eyes were glued not to the sky, but to him. And… for just a moment, something fluttered inside him. For just a moment, Daniel’s own eyes flickered to the man beside him and...the joy hadn’t just been simulated.

It troubles the AI but...he can’t tell. That last part, the flicker of joy, had that been real or was that just wishful thinking? Because, oh how he wished that he had really been present back then. How he wishes that the love that had shone in his green eyes had been real...and that Father's had been in kind.

No, that’s enough, Daniel rebukes himself. There’s no point in bemoaning the past. It wasn’t so before but now his thoughts and emotions are real. And if his Father can see the truth, if he can see that Daniel IS real and loves him, they can be happy again. They can have a real chance to be Father and son. That’s why he needs Danny’s help.

The half ghost and his digital clone get closer. After weeks of playing Doomed together, after watching each other’s back and talking about so many things, they can definitely call each other friends. However, Daniel still hasn’t told Danny the truth about himself, about what he is. He’s afraid of his reaction but Daniel continues to tell himself that he’ll tell Danny soon. He will, just not yet. The longer he waits though, the harder it is to let go of the illusion that he’s as real as Danny is...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Unfortunately, Daniel is found out before he has the chance to come clean about being the same AI Danny met before. One day, Danny decides to overshadow the game. Once he’s inside, he can feel that there’s something off about his companion unlike before when he was playing the game normally through a mouse and keyboard. His new friend doesn’t feel like a player’s avatar or a non-player character. His ghost-sense hasn’t gone off, but Danny can tell there’s something almost ghostly about him.

There’s tension as Danny confronts Daniel. In the midst of their scuffle the hood comes down and reveals that he has the same white hair and green eyes. Of course Danny instantly recognizes who he’s seeing apart from it being the same face he sees in the mirror every morning. It’s Vlad’s Danny program back at it again, trying to trick him!

Yelling ensues. Danny feels betrayed, still believing the AI was sent by Vlad to spy on him, that this is an elaborate trick. But Daniel argues. He’s not here because of Vlad but by his own free will! And he tries desperately to explain to Danny that he really needs his help. But Danny struggles to believe a single word of it.

Eventually Danny just leaves the game entirely, unable to cope with the revelation because he feels stupid for falling for such an obvious ploy. He needs to think about this. The ‘boy’ he’s been talking to this entire time was only a computer program, nothing but lines of code. Daniel’s not a real person, or even a ghost for that matter. He -or rather IT- was created and programmed by Vlad so it can’t have free will, no matter how authentic it sounds…

Except…he’s spent weeks talking to it…him. Every conversation felt real, like he was talking to a friend and having a blast taking out enemies in Doomed. The raw emotions in Daniel’s voice as Danny argued with him sounded authentic at least. And there had been something ghostly about the AI, like it was more than it seemed either way regardless of whether it actually had any free will or not. With all that he’s learned about ghosts, why should he assume anything is what it seems on the surface? What if there is more to Daniel than meets the eye? And even if there isn't, can he really just ignore Daniel’s cry for help?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few days later, Danny overshadows his computer again and finds Daniel, sulking sadly by himself in a level Doomed they had been planning to do together before all hell broke loose the last time they spoke. The two talk and Daniel apologizes for not telling Danny the truth about him sooner, but he says he really does consider Danny a friend and getting to know him wasn’t just about getting his help anymore.

But well….the problem with Vlad is still a big problem.

“If I can just talk to Father, everything will be okay.” Daniel insists, trying to convince himself of that as much as Danny...

Unfortunately, Danny lays the hard truth on him as he sees it and replies harshly, “After everything you’ve been through, you have to see that you’re just a tool to him.”

“But he doesn’t know I’m not the same program anymore, that I’m...something else…” Daniel mutters, continuing to plead Vlad’s case.

“That doesn’t excuse anything!” Danny frowns, “He still treats you like garbage.”

“He’s been getting better. He hasn’t turned on my projector and brought me out to yell or shoot at me in weeks.” That part actually was true too. The last time Daniel saw his Father, just last week in fact, Vlad had only summoned him to rant about work again. He’d even looked depressed, as he had for weeks before.

Danny’s jaw drops after hearing the sincerity in his voice from the way Daniel keeps fervently defending Vlad. The boy sigh, asking him honestly, “How can you care about him so much? Vlad doesn’t love you. He loves the idea of you being his son and that’s just not the same, trust me.”

That stings, oh how that stings Daniel’s ‘heart.’ Why does he love Vlad if the man doesn’t love him back? Of course, there’s the problem that Vlad doesn’t actually know what he’s doing. But even if Vlad knows the truth…will he still want him? Daniel’s not a halfa like Vlad wants. He has no powers that Vlad can train him in. He can’t go to school, eat, or sleep, nothing. He can only go as far as his hologram projector allows. He can’t even hug his Father.

And would Vlad want a son he can’t actually touch...?

Daniel looks down, his expression sad but determined. He clenches his fists and says, “I still have to try. Maybe he will want me. But if I give up now, then I’ll never know for sure...”

Danny says nothing and it just makes Daniel feel even more hopeless until he breaks down and blurts out in a trembling voice, “Who am I kidding? Why WOULD he ever want someone like me? I’m an AI for crying out loud! I’m even less real than an actual clone! I’m just a string of numbers and I don’t know what I’m doing most of the time. I mean, the only reason I care about Vlad is he programmed me to. How could those feelings possibly be real when I’m not?”

He knows that’s not actually true, at least not anymore but-

“You look and sound real to me,” Danny says, putting an arm around the other boy’s shoulders. “As far as I’m concerned, you are real. And Vlad should see that too.”

He sighs, still thinking this is a bad idea, and then nods. “Fine, you win this round. I’ll help you show him you’ve been there all along and…I hope you’re right about him. I really do.”

The two of them talk some more after that and then play through a level together to get their minds off of the seemingly impossible mission they were planning to undertake together in the real world after this. Daniel enjoys their time together though. Because the wonderful thing about being in this game, unlike the real world, he can actually interact with it. He can move and touch things. He has an effect. And most importantly, Daniel has a way to communicate.

“Good job dude!” Danny gives him a high five at the end of the level.

“You too!” Daniel smiles in return.

He lingers for a second, his hand and Danny’s still palm to palm. There’s a…sensation there. Daniel thinks he might be able to feel that, but he’s not that familiar with physical sensations. He knows mental pain but this-

“What is it?” Danny asks, confused.

“Can…can you feel my hand on yours right now?” Daniel responds unsurely. He doesn’t know what Danny feels when he’s overshadowing the game but suddenly he’s curious.

“Actually… I can. Huh, it’s weird. When I’m in the game, I don’t usually feel anything. But maybe…” Danny remembers how he could still ‘sense’ something was off about Daniel when he overshadowed his computer the first time they met, but if his hunch is correct, then-

“What?” Daniel asks, with a hint of nervous anticipation in his eyes.

“Well,” Danny begins slowly. “You’ve always felt a little ghostly to me so maybe that’s what it is.”

That’s a huge surprise to Daniel but makes a surprising amount of sense. He was created by a half ghost, in a ghost lab, so maybe Daniel is more than even he thinks he is. Danny leaves to give his friend some time to let that possibility sink in and Daniel decides to hang out in the game for just a while longer, thinking about his father, Vlad.

And hoping.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few more weeks pass as Daniel and Danny continue to play Doomed together and plan. During that time, Danny starts to feel more protective of the AI and worried about him. The main problem is Daniel can’t seem to break through his programming when it comes to Vlad and his new programming dictates that he stays completely silent as Vlad yells at him or throws insults. It’s honestly concerning, but if Danny can talk to the older halfa and get him to understand what’s really happening, then maybe they can get somewhere. Maybe Vlad will stop tormenting his friend without realizing how much he’s hurting someone who loves him so unconditionally and just wants to be his son again, in spite of his cruelty.

One day, Daniel doesn’t show up to their game session in Doomed because he’s having a very bad day. Vlad had summoned him. More yelling, more shooting, another fight and Daniel just floats there and takes it. He wants to cry, wants to beg Vlad to stop, but he can’t do anything. Vlad’s yelling about losing his perfect son again, about Danny ruining his plans, about how nothing ever goes right for him.

Another blast. Daniel wishes he could move himself, that he could speak. No, he NEEDS to move. He’s real. He is. Danny said he is, that he’s more than he seems. How can his father not see him...?

“Why do you just float there?!” Vlad screams. “My perfect son is gone! And all I have left is YOU, a sick reminder of everything I’ve lost!”

Vlad shoots Daniel with another blast and impossibly it actually knocks Daniel into a shelf of ectoplasmic samples, but the man is fuming too much to really notice anything odd about that. The man then sags into a nearby chair and puts his head in his hands, lamenting, “Why do I keep doing this to myself? I should have just deleted you after I found the file. This is bringing me nothing but more pain and anguish.”

No. No, t-that can’t be right! He...still has to help his Father so that pain will finally go away and they can be together again. This can’t be the end. Daniel can’t let Vlad delete him before he has the chance to ease his Father’s suffering and show him he’s still loved. And as soon as those feelings take hold of him, something shifts inside of Daniel as he chokes on a quiet sob.

Finally, through sheer force of will, denying his new programming, he whispers…

“No.”

Vlad stiffens. His head snaps up towards Daniel. “What did you say?” He says, not harsh, but disbelieving.

Daniel curls in on himself, silent as tears slowly roll down his cheeks, afraid of being attacked yet again like so many times before and unable to do anything about it.

The halfa rises from his chair and stumbles forward. He stares at the hologram. “You spoke. You can’t speak.” He continues, rationalizing because what’s happening before him is impossible.

The boy’s lip trembles and another sob breaks the silence, “Why don’t you love me?” Daniel asks, though he can hardly believe these words are coming out of his mouth.

The man lowers himself to his knees, his mouth opening and closing before he orders evenly, “Look at me.”

The boy does as he’s told, his eyes meeting Vlad’s. The man’s own eyes then widen in shock at the hologram’s seemingly human response. “Daniel?” His shaking hands move forward, to touch the boy’s arm but his hands fall through as if passing through mist...just the same as before which is what spurred him to attempt cloning Danny in the first place.

“I’m sorry,” Daniel looks down, whimpering with holographic tears glistening in his luminous green eyes. “I’m sorry I’m not real. Maybe…maybe you’d love me if I was.”

Vlad just stares blankly at the distraught boy for several minutes and eventually Daniel glances up and studies him warily. He’s never seen his Father like this. So silent, so still, so stunned. He looks almost…afraid. And that scares Daniel more than his own words did.

Finally, Vlad stands up, eyes still glued to the holographic projection before him. He goes to the computer, hand hovering over the controls.

Suddenly near panicked, the boy shoots to his feet and chokes out, “Please! Don’t delete me.”

His green eyes bore into Vlad’s and the man looks away before replying curtly. “I am not planning to.” Then he starts muttering to himself, “The program must be malfunctioning. A complete shutdown should solve the problem.”

“No! Please, I’m not broken, I swear!” Daniel floats forward, eyes pleading. “I’m sorry I couldn’t speak to you before but-” Vlad shakes his head, hand reaching forward to projector controls. “Wait! Don’t turn me off! Just listen to-”

Daniel’s voice is cut off. His vision goes black and he’s back in the computer. NO! He finally managed to talk to his father and the man cut him off. He wouldn’t listen! In a panic, DanielI scrambles to activate the camera. He needs to see and hear what Vlad is doing. The man for some reason thinks he’s broken and he was going to-

Unconsciousness suddenly hits Daniel like a brick wall and he knows nothing for who knows how long. Like that, unable to dream, to think, it was almost as if he’d already been deleted and everything he was or could have been to Vlad, now truly lost to oblivion.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Vlad turns off the computer and all of the electronics in the lab after that. His heart pounding in his chest. He feels startled, off balance. The man almost collapses into his chair again as his mind reels. The program is malfunctioning. That’s it. He thinks back to when he first made the ‘Danny’ Program, after the Jack and Maddie programs -he’s had those for years- but long before he had the idea to clone the real Daniel, before the cloning project.

The Danny program had been special; it was his pride and joy. It was years ahead of his other holograms. Vlad worked tirelessly on it for many months. He strove to create a more realistic looking projection without any static like the others. He gave it a wider variety of authentic looking facial expressions, a wider range of behaviors, a human-sounding voice to assist in reflecting the program’s fake emotions.

And while the Jack program was designed as merely a punching bag, and the Maddie program was made to give compliments and follow Vlad’s instructions like a computer interface, the Danny program was different. Vlad had programmed it to call him father, to act like a loving son. Memories flash through his mind of ‘training’ the program, explaining his work to it while the faux-simile looked on, its laughter almost identical to the real Daniel's.

It had been enjoyable, for a time. Vlad could pretend that Daniel was his, that he already had the perfect, loving half-ghost son by his side. He could almost forget the program wasn’t a person when it enthusiastically rambled on about space facts and beamed whenever he complimented it. But then….they’d spar and Vlad’s hands would pass right through it. He would get so caught up in the moment that he would try to hug it only to realize there’s nothing there. That’s why he decided to clone the real Daniel, because he wanted someone he could hold in his arms, someone real, and not this sad semblance of the perfect son he so longed for.

The man shakes his head. None of that matters anymore. That dream is beyond him now. He’s given up. And that speech, the ‘emotions’ his hologram expressed had been nothing but scattered remnants of it’s original programming.

But those words, ‘Why don’t you love me?’ still keeps ringing in his ears even so.

The halfa finally decides to get to the bottom of this so he reboots the computer. Vlad peruses the code in front of him, studying it closely. Every direction, every angle. The answer must be there. It must be. His hologram is simply malfunctioning. That must be it…

It must be…

It HAS to be….

With the computer running again, Daniel abruptly reawakens with a startled gasp. After reorienting himself, he silently watches his Father through the camera once more. His expression is focused, determined. He’s typing, muttering quietly to himself. “There must be an answer.”

The clattering on the keyboard speeds up and Vlad's eyes hungrily search the screen for something, ANYTHING out of the ordinary, “What could possibly explain this?”

The man looks almost frantic, desperate, his eyes widening as his typing comes to a sudden and complete stop. “No. It can’t possibly….” Vlad leans back, dread growing on his face. “There’s no fault, no malfunction.”

He stands up abruptly from the chair. Is he...shaking?

Vlad steps back, his mind racing. There is a problem with the program, but the problem in and of itself should make it impossible for the program to even run; the problem is...there’s no trace of the original code whatsoever. The program should not be able to speak or move, not after all of the changes he made to it. And the memory of the program’s pain-filled eyes keeps replaying over and over in his mind. There should not have been any emotion in his eyes, not even fake emotions. Vlad’s mouth suddenly feels dry because those eyes…those emotions looked completely real.

Real. ‘Maybe you would love me if I was real.’ The Daniel program’s words echo loudly in his mind, ringing truer in his ears than before until there’s no denying it anymore. Those emotions...they...they WERE real.

As the pieces finally begin coming together, it terrifies Vlad in a way he had never experienced before. The Danny program knows it’s not real, it knows it can be deleted, that he can turn off the projector or the computer at any time and by doing so it would disappear. This is not knowledge Vlad imprinted into the code. This is not something the Danny program should know-

But it does.

That’s when the revelation of what had become of his Danny program suddenly hits Vlad like a ton of bricks. The knowledge it had outside of the program’s normal parameters, the raw emotion it could express, its capacity to act outside of its programming. Was…was this self awareness...? A self aware AI. Vlad Masters had made a self aware AI, in his basement, without meaning to. An AI that looks and sounds like Daniel and whose sorrowful eyes fill his mind once more. Those emotions…does that mean… can it feel, REALLY feel? Were those true emotions it expressed to him?

Dread builds. The first question it- no, HE had asked the man who created him, was why he didn’t love him. He had asked Vlad the one question he has been asking himself for months-

Why doesn’t anyone love him?

Shaking, the man stumbles away from his computer. He rushes upstairs and slams the door to his lab behind him, sagging against the nearest wall. Heart aching, Vlad asks himself through the hand covering his mouth. “What have I done?”

Meanwhile, Daniel’s mind races too as Vlad leaves him behind. What did his reaction mean? Was Father panicking? He’d never seen Vlad panic like that before. And why was he panicking? Did...did he finally realize Daniel is self-aware? Does he care about him at all or is he afraid of him for some reason? And more importantly, what will he do now...?

Daniel wishes more than anything he could leave the computer and go talk to his Father again, console him. But he can’t. He’s trapped. So all he can do, just like before, is wait...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Upstairs, Vlad is now drinking. He’s not panicking over making a real AI anymore. After all, he’s a half ghost millionaire who successfully cloned another half ghost, so why would that disconcert him? No, that’s not what troubles him. But his yelling at, shooting, hitting, throwing things at an unresponsive Daniel AI, that’s what’s tearing him apart.

The program had asked Vlad why he didn’t love him with tears in his eyes which should not have been possible. Months. Months of taking out his anger out on the Danny program and the weight of desperation he had felt had finally caught up to Vlad. He realized for the first time how truly pathetic his recent behavior has been. It flashes through his mind just like his other grand mistake of cloning the real Daniel. Ectoplasm on the floor, a white haired-boy melting. The girl clone, Danielle, with tears in her eyes after Vlad had treated her just as poorly. He’d been furious for months that she betrayed him too, but now it makes his heart ache for another reason entirely. She left, abandoned him, but he had abandoned her first-

He threw her away.

Older memories begin filling his thoughts of training again, playing pretend with the Danny program and he wonders, what..what if that had been real too? The laughter, and the adoration in his voice whenever Daniel said ‘I love you father.’ He’d wanted more, a child who could really love him. But his perfect son had died before his eyes and his daughter…he turned his back on her.

And unknowingly, he had done it all over again.

‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m not real. Maybe...maybe you’d love me if I was.’

He doesn’t know how it happened. It makes no sense. Vlad did not make a self-aware AI. Daniel’s programming was never complex enough for that sentience to develop on its own. But he IS sentient, aware, emotional. Real. Daniel, his Daniel, is real. He’s been downstairs, living inside that computer for months. A child’s mind that only wants his father’s love. And Vlad has only ignored and abused him...

Vlad finds himself openly weeping now. He hadn’t even cried after his prime clone of the real Daniel perished right in front of him. But now, Vlad is crying like he hadn’t since the accident that turned him half-ghost all those years ago, when he realized he had been abandoned and betrayed by his so-called best friend and left to rot in that hospital. Just like how this poor boy has been left to rot in his laboratory.

All he wanted was love; that’s what he’s said, what Vlad told himself, what he told the younger half-ghost that the Danny program was based off of. But that dream had fallen through his fingers and not from Jack Fenton’s incompetence, but rather his own flaws, his own mistakes.

Or…maybe his dreams weren’t out of reach...

He thought it was over after the cloning incident. Yet now, it’s on the horizon once again but still forever out of reach. A renewed wave of pain and loneliness stabs at his heart. He’s right back where he started before! True, this time the Danny program is aware; he may actually be capable of love now. But Vlad can still never hold him or watch him grow up. He’ll never drop him off at school or a friend’s house or take him to fancy parties.

More playacting.

That’s all that’s in his future.

And it breaks the man’s heart all over again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Danny finds Vlad the next morning asleep on the bathroom floor after the younger half ghost finally decided that enough was enough and came to confront Vlad about the whole situation with the Danny program.

“Vlad,” He greets bluntly and glares down at the older halfa on the floor, nudging him with the tip of his boot. “Hey, wake up already.”

The man groans and slowly sits up, his head pounding from the hangover and he squints at Danny.

“Which one are you?” Vlad asks, then poking the boy rather sharply in the knee.

“Ow! What was that for?!” Danny snaps irritably.

The man shakes his head, “Oh. You’re the other one.”

“What are you talking about?” Danny asks impatiently.

Vlad chuckles humorlessly. “I’d half hoped you were my Daniel."He sighs, slowly pulling himself up into a more dignified position and then continues bitterly, “Although I don’t suppose he’d want to talk to me after last night.”

Vlad then blinks at Danny, finally realizing what he had just said to him aloud and frowns, “Why are you here?”

The boy rubs the back of his neck, unsure of where to even start now that Vlad’s actually in front of him. Then Danny suddenly stops and asks, “Wait. Your Daniel. Last night? Did….did he talk to you?”

“He?” Vlad’s eyes widen and he demands somewhat frantically, “My AI? How do you know about him?”

“About that….” Danny glances at him awkwardly before briefly explaining to Vlad how he met and became friends with the Danny program. As soon as he finishes summarizing that, Danny confesses. “Anyways, I was going to help him talk to you but I guess something must’ve happened.” His eyes narrow at the older halfa suspiciously. “What did you do to him?”

“Nothing.” Vlad frowns again, offering up no more information.

Danny tilts his head, studying Vlad. He didn’t say the word defensively but sounded almost…depressed, like he regretted something. In fact, everything about this is out of character for Vlad. Because since when has Vlad ever left himself defenseless on the bathroom floor like this after drinking himself into a stupor? Danny needs to find out what happened and make sure his AI friend is okay no matter what.

“I’m going down to the lab.” Danny announces before Vlad can argue. Then he phases through the floor to where Daniel probably is.

Once there, Danny studies the computer and considers his options. Should he just overshadow the computer and talk to Daniel there? Or should he find the projector controls instead?

“You can’t just barge into my laboratory like this, Danny,” Vlad demands, having phased in behind the boy.

Danny whips around, pointing as he replies stubbornly. “I’ll barge in wherever I want to and you can’t stop me fruitloop! I’m well past caring about your personal boundaries; you’ve never cared about mine. Now where’s that switch…? ”

“Daniel,” The man begins, a hint of threat in his voice when Danny finally loses his patience and snaps-

“No! Listen here you jerk, you’ve been hurting my friend for months. Months Vlad! You’ve treated him like nothing but a tool just like Dani and the other clones, like your personal punching bag, and not once have you stopped to consider how wrong that is! But for some reason, he still loves you. Daniel thinks you deserve another chance and that is the ONLY reason I’m here so consider yourself lucky that I’m not here to kick your sorry butt for what you did to him.”

Not noticing Vlad’s wide-eyed reaction at his bold proclamation, Danny shoves past him towards the holographic projector as soon as he spots it. And after finally figuring out how to activate the darn thing, he flips the switch. A light flashes and a figure wavers into view.

Green eyes blink, looking around before falling on the younger halfa in confusion, “Danny?” There’s hope in the holographic boy’s voice but Danny doesn’t register it as a breath of cold forms in his lungs.

Daniel frowns at the expression on Danny’s face. “What is it?”

“My ghost sense?” Danny wrinkles his brow in confusion. Daniel tilts his head in a silent question and the other boy continues in disbelief, “My ghost sense almost went off because of…you.”

Daniel’s eyes widened. “What? Really?”

“Your signature, it’s stronger now for some reason.” Danny explains, just as shocked as Daniel is. “Or maybe it’s ‘cause we’re actually seeing each other in person for the first time.”

Several emotions pass over Daniel’s face, but he doesn’t get a chance to react because Vlad is staring at the two identical boys and interjects. “Your signature? What do you mean by that?”

“You don’t know?” Danny asks, turning towards the older halfa, honestly surprised Vlad hadn’t figured it out yet when he’s been around Daniel WAY longer than he has.

Vlad doesn’t respond and turns away with an unreadable expression on his face. He barely looks at the pair of teens before he walks across the lab to retrieve something. Seconds later, Vlad returns with a beeping device in his hands.

Danny narrows his eyes when he sees it and scoffs, “Is that the Fenton Finder? Seriously?”

Vlad ignores his comment as he’s too busy looking between the device and the holographic projection of his creation. His eyes are searching and Danny can practically see the gears turning in his head. After a long silent moment, Vlad confirms that they’re telling the truth and states brusquely, “You have a ghost signature.”

Daniel blinks again and nods, “Yeah, I do.” There’s a hint of hope in his voice before it turns to confusion and he asks, “Wait. How?”

Vlad stares for another moment at the screen before walking back to his computer. Bewildered, both white-haired boys watch him type and read information on the screen.

After about a minute, Danny’s eyes narrow again and calls, “Vlad.”

The man ignores him.

“Vlad. What’s going on?” The boy demands, again, met with no response from the elder halfa so Danny crosses his arms and rolls his eyes at Vlad.

There’s another pause until Daniel meekly asks. “Father?”

Vlad visibly stiffens. He doesn’t turn around, but he answers. “Come here son.”

The term of endearment isn’t malicious or mocking but almost….fond.

Daniel obeys and Danny silently follows behind him. The two stand over the older hybrid’s shoulder as he talks, still not looking at either of them. “I cannot believe I didn’t realize it sooner. I noticed something last night, when I was examining your code. It was too simple, too minimal to explain your level of mental development. There was just not enough information present there for you to be sentient. There had to be more to it but I could not seem to see it. But this would explain-”

“Vlad,” Danny cut in. “Get to the point.”

The older halfa finally turns around, eyes focusing on Daniel specifically, a half smile on his face as he explains. “You’re a hybrid, my boy.”

Daniel’s eyes widened in shock. “What? But how? I’m…I’m not half ghost like you and Danny! I’m not even…even…I’m just an AI.”

Vlad shakes his head and corrects, “No, son. You are not just an AI. Not anymore.”

“I…I still don’t understand.” Daniel stutters, his mind reeling.

Vlad’s expression softens as he points towards the computer, at the string of ones and zeros, and continues, “Daniel. This is your code. I wrote it, the basic information that makes up your mind. The behaviors you can display, instruction for how to move, speak, how to behave. However….”

He furrows his brow thoughtfully. “This is limited, too small to explain your existence.” Vlad looks up at Daniel’s face, “You are more than this code.”

Daniel nods but he still doesn’t understand. “Then…how am I like this?”

The man then moves the ghost scanner in front of the boy. He points. “This is your ectoplasmic signature. It is weak, hardly stronger than a blob ghost, but it‘s there.” A real smile dawns on Vlad’s face. “You have a ghost signature which can only mean one thing.”

Daniel stares, still struggling to understand. He has a ghost signature. But doesn’t that mean-

“You’re a ghost,” Danny concludes, awe in his voice.

“I am?” Daniel asks quietly, blinking.

“Yes,” Vlad nods and smiles even wider.

Daniel’s mind is stumbling over itself. How did this happen? He’s an AI. Vlad made him to be nothing but a simulation of the real Danny, not a ghost. And he didn’t know this before. How didn’t he know?

“How is this even possible?” Danny asks as if reading Daniel’s mind since he wanted to ask his Father the very same question.

“I don’t know.” Vlad says, now frowning. He looks at Daniel again, “You aren’t a ghost overshadowing my computer or my projector. If you were, I would have sensed your presence with my own ghost sense long before now. But your code and your developing core are…intertwined. They are feeding into each other.” The man rubbed his chin. “Ectoplasm can animate inanimate objects so I can only assume your exposure to it somehow granted you self-awareness.”

“Yeah. That’s why we have ecto-weenies in the fridge. The ectoplasm gets inside them and they start moving and biting and stuff.” Danny adds with a slightly amused look on his face.

Vlad nods, “Yes. And masses of ectoplasm can form ghosts spontaneously. That is commonly how blob ghosts form.”

“But those aren’t intelligent.” Daniel points out timidly, still hesitant to get his hopes up.

“No. But your code was written to allow some level of intelligence and ectoplasm’s ability to animate would theoretically increase that intelligence exponentially. The problem now is how to figure out when you were exposed to enough ectoplasm for this to happen in the first place.”

Daniel’s eyes widen as he remembers, “My projector, it got drenched in ectoplasm.”

“When was this?” Vlad asks, trying to recall when on earth that could have happened since he’s drawing a blank.

“After...the cloning thing,” Daniel answers, wrings his hands. “I remember, their ectoplasm was everywhere and…that was the first day I…I realized everything. That’s when I became...something else.”

Vlad’s eyes widened, in realization, a hint of hope dawning there. “The clones…their ectoplasm is inside you.”

Danny’s jaw drops. “Wait a sec! Doesn’t that mean he’s a clone of me? Like an actual clone?!”

“Possibly,” Vlad’s brow narrows.

At the same time, Daniel is overwhelmed by the realization that he’s real after all and his expression becomes more and more distressed. He….he might be an actual proper clone because he pretty much absorbed the other clones. Despite not actually needing to breathe, the boy starts hyperventilating, on the verge of a panic attack.

Such a thing felt just as awful as it was being born into the world only to witness the aftermath of such a horrific scene. Because now it felt like...he had stolen something from them before the other clones could discover themselves and become part of their family too. And why should he, a mere program, be the only one who gets to experience their father’s love from now on...? He didn’t do anything special to deserve it, didn’t help their father in any meaningful way, so why-!

Vlad notices this panic and tries to put his hand on Daniel’s arm to comfort the boy, but just as before it falls through. Daniel’s face falls at the outcome, longing for that kind of comfort from his Father, but Vlad looks between his hand and Daniel’s arm thoughtfully. Furrowing his brow, he turns his hand intangible and slowly it moves forward until somehow, impossibly, Vlad’s hand wraps around Daniel’s arm.

The boy gasps. “You’re…you’re touching me. I can feel that.” His head whips up to Vlad’s face. “I can feel your hand. You’re touching me. Father, you’re touching me.”

The man laughs, “You’re stuck intangible, my boy. Your signature is too weak to manifest a full body so the projector is helping you do that to some degree. But you appear to be stuck like this for the time being.”

Daniel blinks, slowly taking in that new information before he wraps his arms around his father. The man then turns completely intangible and, now occupying the same level of reality, the two can finally touch.

Daniel begins crying and clings to him, whispering, “Father.”

Vlad ruffles his hair and cradles the boy’s head close to him, barely believing that this is finally possible. “I am so sorry, son. I am sorry I couldn’t see you before. But you are real.” He whispers in return with equally as much hope in his voice. “I promise you are real. I wish I deserved your love but I will strive to be worthy of your affection, my boy. I won’t make the same mistake again. I promise.”

He steps back, putting his intangible hands on Daniel’s face.

Daniel smiles at him through the tears and nods. “I… I love you so much. And...I forgive you, Father.”

His smile falls as Vlad pulls away, wishing this moment between them could last longer and sad it had to end so soon. Luckily, Vlad understands this and promises. “Don’t worry son. We’ll find a way for you to manifest fully and then we can embrace any time you wish.”

Daniel tilts his head questioningly and Vlad clarifies. “Your core needs to be stimulated more from now on to strengthen it and help it mature. Once it is strong enough, you will be able to form a tangible ghost form.” The man tapes his chin. “That said, we’ll still need to integrate some technology to hold your code too since that is also an integral part of you.”

“So he’s basically a ghost cyborg?” Danny finally added. “Kinda like Skulker?”

“I suppose that is an accurate assessment.” Vlad added. “Or it would be if Skulker wasn’t merely a blob ghost himself in a robotic battle suit. If anything, Daniel has more in common with Technus given their ability to manipulate technology to some degree which is how I assume he was able to make contact with you several months ago...”

After things settle down, the older half-ghost and his new son talk for a while more, many overdue hugs are given, and plans are made to help Daniel become a true part of Vlad’s family. Danny watches, greatly surprised at the exchange but also wary. It looks like Vlad wants to make up for what he’s done to Daniel, but the man has still committed many terrible crimes so Danny isn’t convinced he was worthy of getting a happy ending just yet.

Vlad has hurt a lot more people than just Daniel. He’s done a lot of horrible things to Danny himself, his parents, and mistreated Danielle and the other clones which his friend only knows so much about but that’s sure to come back to bite Vlad in the butt later. Either way, Vlad still has a long way to go, but...after seeing his determination to make amends to Daniel Danny hopes this means his archenemy is finally turning over a new leaf.

#Danny Phantom #Danny Program AU #My fic #Danny clones #Vlad Masters

104 notes · View notes

the-scandalorian · 3 years

Text

Tempered Glass: Chapter 7

Pairing: Din Djarin x Female Reader Rating: M (will become explicit) Word Count: 5.5k Warnings: slow burn, canon-typical violence, cursing, pining, Din in suspenders, fluff Summary: Din takes a job with his old crew, and you and the kid wait for him on Arvala-7. Notes: Sorry this took me forever!

Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter

Image from The Art of Star Wars: The Mandalorian

After you left the atmosphere of Tatooine and jumped into hyperspace, Din swiveled his chair around to face you in the copilot’s seat.

“I should take a job. Everything we made went to Peli, and I don’t like being low on credits. There’s a crew I used to run with...I can reach out to them...” he hesitated then added, “but you and the kid can’t come with me.”

“What do you mean I can’t come with you?”

He sighed, shoulders dropping. “I mean, I don’t trust them enough for you and the kid to come.”

“If you don’t trust them, wouldn’t it be better to have backup?”

“I just—,” he looked away, “I don’t want them to know either of you exist.”

“If you don’t trust them, should you be taking a job with them?”

“We don’t have a lot of options.”

“I could get work somewhere. We could go somewhere safe enough for a few weeks. There are some places where I have contacts, and non-bounty hunting work is usually less conspicuous.”

“I don’t think we should stay anywhere that long right now.”

“But—”

“I’ll feel better if you and the kid are safe together.”

“I—”

When he bowed his head in a silent appeal, your determination crumbled.

“Ugh, fine.”

He sighed in relief, reaching out to rest his hand on your knee briefly. His touch was reassuring.

“But, just so you know, this is only going to work once, so don’t think that my staying back with the kid is going to be a regular thing.”

He removed his hand and turned back around to face the viewport.

“I am taking your silence as tacit agreement,” you said to the back of his helmet.

He chose to ignore that, fiddling with the controls instead.

***

Now that you’d both admitted you wanted to stay together, abandoning the pretense of strategy and convenience all together, things were a little off between you and Din. Neither of you were used to being vulnerable, so conversations were slightly stunted again. You found yourself being overly polite, and Din was doing the same.

That first night back on the Crest, he offered you his bunk.

“I’m not taking your bed. You need it to take off your helmet.”

Besides the unshakable lingering chill of the hull, sleeping there wasn’t that bad. You usually slept with every sweater you owned on and that kept you warm enough.

“Use it when I’m not. You shouldn't have to sleep on the floor.”

“Sure, thanks,” you agreed, knowing you’d never take him up on that. You didn’t want to be on a different sleep schedule than he and the kid.

You did try to nap with the kid in Din’s bunk the next day because there wasn’t all that much to do in hyperspace. As soon as you lay down, though, you knew it was a mistake. First of all, it was crazy uncomfortable (somehow not better than the literal floor and the close walls made it slightly claustrophobic), and second—and far more importantly—it smelled overwhelmingly like Din. It smelled like his pine-y soap and beskar and blaster residue and leather and whatever else made up his infuriatingly good scent. It conjured images of crackling fires and golden skin and warm embraces and taut muscles.

Shit.

There was no chance you were going to be able to fall sleep when all you could think about was him.

The kid, on the other hand, was snoozing contentedly beside you. When you’d fully given up on napping, you edged your way out the bunk carefully, doing your best not to wake him.

Din was sitting in the hull on a long crate against the wall, cleaning his blaster, the pieces spread out next to him. Usually, when you were in the hull at the same time, you’d find a place across from him. Instead, you purposefully sat next to him, drawing your knees up to your chest and leaning against the wall.

You decided you were going to push through this awkward phase and make things not weird right there, right then. And you were going to do that the best way you knew how.

He tilted his helmet toward you momentarily then refocused on the blaster in his hand.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Yes,” he said, running a rag along the barrel.

“How does one develop a catchphrase? Does it happen organically or is there an iterative brainstorming process?”

Din paused, sighing dramatically, set his blaster and the rag down next to him, and pushed himself back until he was also leaning against the metal wall. His helmet clunked slightly as he relaxed it back. “This is the way is not a catchphrase. It’s a tenet of the Creed.”

“And ‘I can bring you in warm or I can bring you in cold’ is also a tenet of the Creed?”

He lolled his helmet to the side, looking down at you. “Okay, fine, that one isn’t,” he conceded.

“So you admit it—you have at least one catchphrase that you regularly use on bounties.” You smirked up at him.

Without missing a beat, Din fixed you with that unreadable visor and quipped: “I’ve been told I have a sexy voice. I’m just giving the people what they want.”

Your jaw dropped, a shocked laugh echoing through the hull. You had planned on teasing him and had not expected him to turn it around on you so smoothly.

“Uh... I was sort of hoping we’d stick to our unspoken agreement to not bring up the stupid things I said when I was drunk.” You looked down at your hands, suddenly unable to meet his gaze.

“Oh, definitely not.”

You looked back up. “Alright, well then in the name of fairness, we’re going to have to get you really drunk the next time the opportunity presents itself, so we can see what embarrassing things you say.”

He paused for a moment, considering, then said, “Does that mean you’ll carry me home?”

You cracked a smile, nodding vigorously. “Of course. That would only be fair.”

A warm laugh rasped through the modulator. You crossed your ankles in front of you, letting your knee rest against the cold beskar on this thigh.

“I feel skeptical of that promise.” He dropped a gloved hand to your knee.

“Okay, okay I can’t promise to carry you home, but I can promise to tie your shoe if needed.”

“My boots don’t have laces.” He lifted a foot off the ground to show you.

You shrugged playfully: “Well, that’s not my fault.”

“This doesn’t sound like a very good deal for me. I tied your shoe and carried you home.”

“To be fair, both were against my will.”

“But necessary.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Okay, okay, I can’t carry you, and I can’t tie your shoe... so I’ll...,” you bit your lip as you fished around for something else to offer, “...hold your hand? And not let anyone tickle you.”

He huffed and rubbed his thumb over your knee: “I’m not ticklish.”

You pursed your lips. “Right, sure, of course not. My mistake.”

He harrumphed. “Can I ask you something now?”

“I’ll allow it,” you intoned seriously.

“Where are you actually from?”

“Naboo. Most of my back story was true—I just left out the one major detail.”

“Your favorite color?” he deadpanned.

You laughed. “Yes, exactly. What about you? Where are you from?”

“Aq Vetina.”

You waited, hoping he’d elaborate.

“When my parents died there, I was rescued by the Mandalorians and raised in the Fighting Corps.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, placing your hand over his and squeezing gently. “That sounds like a tough life for a child.”

“It was all I knew,” he explained, shifting slightly.

“Still, that can’t have been easy. It makes sense that you couldn’t leave the kid.”

“Yeah,” he said quietly, solemnly. There was a tension in his shoulders that hadn’t been there moments ago.

“Less serious question,” you replied, changing the subject to something lighter.

“Okay.” He relaxed a little.

“Why don’t you ever use a straw to drink with your helmet on?”

“These are the things you think about?” he laughed. His laugh was usually a quiet, muffled sound through the modulator, but it was getting easier to pick up on it. “There’s a seal on the helmet, otherwise the filters wouldn’t work,” he tapped the release on the side of his head. “So a straw isn’t a possibility, unfortunately.”

“Mmm,” you responded, “that is disappointing.”

He gripped your thigh lightly, turning toward you. “I, uh, heard back about the job... while you were asleep. It’s a go.”

“Ah... great. I was kind of hoping you wouldn’t hear back.”

“I know. It will be fine.”

“Okay... So, any ideas for where the kid and I should stay?”

To your surprise, Din explained that he had a trusted friend on Arvala-7. When you agreed to the plan, he disappeared to the cockpit to set the nav—a two-day trip.

***

That same evening, you discovered a new favorite activity on the Crest. Before bed, the kid was being particularly fussy, so you pulled out your data pad and downloaded the first children’s book you could find. It worked liked a charm.

From then on, it became a daily routine: you’d read to him until his eyelids drooped before his nap and before bedtime. Regardless of his mood, listening to you read seemed to soothe him. You’d pull him into your lap and settle onto your stack of blankets against the wall. He’d watch your face, enraptured, as you relayed story after story to him. His favorite—the story that elicited the most chirps and grabby motions and ear wiggles—centered on a family of frogs. You revisited that one at least once a day, sometimes more if he was grouchy.

You weren’t sure how to feel about his hyperfixation on that particular story given his appetite for frogs.

At this rate, your digital library was going to be largely children’s books. You didn’t mind.

You noticed that Din would find something to do in the hull while you read. The first couple times, he sat and cleaned one of his many weapons or sewed a hole in his flight suit. Very quickly, he stopped bothering with an ostensible task and would just sit and listen.

When you were still 15 hours out from Arvala-7, Din was seated on his usual crate in the hull, the one next to the weapons cabinet, as you finished the final page of a particularly thrilling story about a snail. The kid was snoring softly in your arms, so you clicked off your datapad, and got up to settle him in his hammock for his mid-day nap.

“You’re good with him.” Din was leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees.

“I guess,” you shrugged, snapping the door to Din’s bunk shut and turning back to him. “I just think about what I liked as a kid. I loved when my parents would read to me.”

He nodded, helmet trained on the floor between his boots.

“I’m sorry—” you started, realizing how that must have sounded to Din.

He looked up and cut you off. “Don’t be. It’s nice for him to have some normal kid experiences.”

“You know what he’d really love?”

“What?”

“If you read to him.”

He dipped his helmet slightly in acknowledgement, rolling his shoulders back at the same time like he was uncomfortable agreeing with that.

Several hours later, you pulled Din down next to you in your normal pre-bedtime story time spot. He had the kid in his arms. You switched on your datapad and toggled through the catalog of books you’d downloaded, all of which had colorful covers and silly, whimsical titles, until you found the frog book.

“Here,” you offered, passing it over to him.

You leaned your head back against the wall and closed your eyes, listening to Din’s serious, even voice narrate the heartwarming hijinks of a family of frogs. The kid cooed and babbled along.

To your (and the kid’s) utter delight, Din’s rendition slowly evolved into a full-on dramatic reading, complete with sound effects and slightly different voices for each character, as he leaned into whatever prompted the most enthusiastic responses from the kid. You kept your eyes closed and said nothing, worried that if you drew attention to this new development, he’d get self-conscious and stop. You couldn’t help from smiling a little though.

When the story came to its conclusion, you opened your eyes. Din was scrolling through the library of options, browsing for the next book. “What do you think? Which one next?” You looked at him, but he wasn’t asking you. The kid let out a string of gibberish, pointing with a teeny finger. Din read out the titles of several options, selecting the one that triggered the most animated trill.

As Din began the story, he shifted until his body was flush with yours. The places where his beskar made contact with you were cold, even through the fabric of your clothes, but you didn’t mind.

By the time Din finished the second book, the kid was displaying the telltale signs—drooping ears and unfocused eyes—that bedtime had arrived.

Din handed you the datapad and stood to tuck the kid into bed.

As he shut the door to his bunk, you said, “I think you just put me out of a job.”

He scoffed, but you could tell he was pleased.

***

As you got more comfortable around each other, Din took to walking around without his armor—beside his helmet—on. Most of the time, he’d even leave his gloves off. He wore either a flight suit that zipped up the middle or a black shirt and pants...with suspenders. The first few times, it was jarring to see him like that, without his armor. He looked wrong. It was like seeing a turtle without its shell... but if turtles were sexy.

The first time he emerged from his bunk with the suspenders hanging loosely by his sides, you stopped dead, mouth hanging open. He tilted his helmet sharply at you: “What?”

“You sometimes wear suspenders under your armor?”

“...Yes?”

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you and the goofy grin that spread across your face.

“What?” he prompted again, shoulders pulling up toward his neck.

“I just really wasn’t expecting that,” you laughed.

“What were you expecting?” The playful note in his voice left you flustered. He took a step closer, much more relaxed now that he was the one doing the teasing. He was getting too good at flipping things on you.

Instead of answering—because you were not about to address the fact that you had absolutely thought about what he wore under his armor—you strode up to him and pulled the suspenders over his shoulders. He stood uncomfortably still, arms hanging awkwardly by his sides.

“What are you doing?” He looked down at his shirt then back up at you.

“I just want to get the full picture.” You looked him up and down.

“Thought about this a lot, have you?” He quirked his helmet down at you suggestively. It was only the second time you’d gotten that particular flavor of head tilt, and you...didn’t hate it. It made your neck feel hot. You disregarded the intense desire to grab him by the suspenders and jerk him toward you.

Instead, you narrowed your eyes at him, enjoying this new bold flirtation. Without looking away from his visor, you hooked a finger through one of the suspenders and pulled it out a couple inches, letting it snap back against him.

“Ow.” He stated it so matter-of-factly that it obviously hadn’t hurt, but for dramatic effect, he rubbed the spot on his chest where it hit him.

“You’ll survive,” you assured him, patting his shoulder and brushing past him to climb the ladder to the cockpit. When you sat down in the pilot’s seat and kicked your feet up to rest on the console, you still had a smile on your face.

***

A few hours later, you were seated in the copilot seat with the child held tightly in your lap as the Razor Crest descended through the atmosphere of Arvala-7. On the way, Din shared how he’d met this friend—he had helped Din when he was originally tracking down the child months ago.

However, when you asked what his friend’s name was, Din said he didn’t know. Honestly, you weren’t even that surprised. Just exasperated.

Din told you the details of when he tracked down the child, including the assassin droid he'd crossed paths with. He explained how he’d teamed up with IG-11, but in the end, he had to destroy the droid to protect the kid. The anger in his voice was raw when he described watching IG-11 point his blaster at the child.

As the dusty, cracked surface of the planet came into view, you asked, “Is that what caused your thing with droids?”

“What thing?”

“Din.”

He was silent for a long moment.

“Droids destroyed my home planet, killed my parents. They’re the reason I was a foundling as a child.”

His words washed over you, and your heart dropped. You leaned forward in your seat to put a hand on his shoulder. He stayed perfectly still, helmet trained on the controls in front of him.

“I’m sorry.”

He nodded stiffly and reached up to squeeze your hand briefly.

“We’re about to land.”

You took that as a cue to drop the subject for now.

***

You and Din, the kid in his arms, approached a small collection of low structures. You swept your eyes across the uniform landscape—all was dry and sienna and flat. The Ugnaught’s homestead was the only sign of habitation in sight. The buildings were brown and domed, and windmills creaked slowly in the warm breeze. Three blurrgs in a large corral watched you balefully.

“Mandalorian!” the Ugnaught greeted, emerging from the door of his low home.

“Ugnaught,” Din replied with a nod.

“I did not think I would see you here again. What business brings you back to Arvala-7?”

“I was hoping that my friends could stay with you for a couple nights—I’ll pay you for the lodging.”

Of course he'd refer to me and a literal infant as his "friends."

You introduced yourself, offering your hand.

The Ugnaught bowed his head slightly as he clasped your hand: “It is nice to make your acquaintance. I am Kuill.”

At least Din knows his name now.

Kuill turned back to Din. “The child remains in your care,” he observed.

“Yes,” said Din, offering no explanation. He set the child down on the ground, and he toddled his way slowly over to Kuill.

Kuill scooped up the baby, and he chirruped happily, reaching toward his whiskery mustache.

“It hasn’t grown much.”

“I think it might be a Strand-Cast.”

You shot Din a skeptical look. He’d never shared this particular theory of his with you.

“I don’t think it was engineered. I’ve worked in the gene farms. This one looks evolved. Too ugly,” mused Kuill.

You raised your eyebrows at the frankness of his statement. He is not ugly.

“Your friends are welcome to stay with me. No payment will be necessary. I have spoken.” Kuill turned and headed back inside without so much as a backward glance.

“I insist,” Din said to his back.

Kuill disappeared into his home.

Din turned to you: “He does that. Just ends a conversation like that.”

“I understand why the two of you get along so well. Men of few words.” You raised an eyebrow at him.

Din nodded, reinforcing your point inadvertently.

You and Din stepped closer to each other at the same time. For the first time, you let the concern you were feeling color your features.

“I’ll be back in three days, if not sooner.”

He was padding his timeline in response to the worry that was etched across your face. You knew Din could defend himself—that wasn’t your fear. It was that, whether he liked to admit it or not, he occasionally let trust blind him. The irony of that wasn’t lost on you, considering how long it had taken for him to trust you. This was the trademark paradox of Din. He was loath to fully let people in, but he had a tendency to take people at face value and assume they would keep their word—because he always kept his word. He had a surprisingly generous worldview for someone with such a violent profession and brutal past.

Din reached down to grab something small that was tucked in his belt—the metal ball from one of the controls in the cockpit that the kid loved to play with. He occasionally pretended to be irritated whenever he wanted to play with it, but you knew he found it endearing.

He handed it to you. “He’ll want that.”

You smiled and nodded, looking at the sphere in your palm. Din raised a hand to your chin and tilted your face back up to his.

Do we... hug? He doesn’t seem like a hugger.

So instead, you offered, “Be careful, okay?”

“I will,” he promised. He stayed there for a moment longer, looking at you and rubbing his thumb along your cheek. Before you could decide if you should also try to hug him, he turned abruptly to walk back to the Crest.

You stayed and watched him as he walked the distance back to the ship and disappeared up the ramp. You stayed and watched as the Razor Crest rumbled to life and took off. You stayed and watched as it ascended through the atmosphere and vanished from view.

***

It was a relief to be off the ship for a few days—even if Arvala-7 wasn’t exactly your ideal planet. It would be a treat to eat real food, instead of shelf-stable ration packs, and to have more than the limited space of the ship to move around in... not to mention an actual bed.

Kuill was a kind and welcoming host. He offered you his spare room, where you placed your things, and you sat down for tea together in his small kitchen.

“How did you come to be in the company of the Mandalorian and the child?”

“I guess he has a soft spot for people who are wanted by the Empire?” you chuckled, and Kuill nodded somberly. “Now, we’re just helping each other out.” You weren’t really sure how else to explain it.

Kuill didn’t press you anymore than that, nodding sagely. Instead, while you sipped your tea with the kid on your lap, he told you about his background—decades of indentured servitude to the Empire before he worked off his debt and bought his freedom—in the solemn, frugal way that was clearly characteristic of the Ugnaught. You understood why Din trusted him: he was forthright, calm, wise.

“What can I help you with while I’m here?” you asked, already anxious to find something to occupy your time.

“You are my guest. You do not need to do any work.”

“I would be happy to,” you insisted. “I would rather be busy. I can help with cleaning or repairs—whatever you need. My formal training was in programming, but I’ve picked up general skills along the way.”

Kuill nodded and said, “Come.”

He turned and walked out of his house. You set down your tea on the table and followed him, the child tucked in the crook of your elbow, happily clutching the silver ball. Kuill stopped in front of the workstation that was a short distance from his doorway. Tools and wiring and various speeder parts were arranged on and around a long workbench and a collection of smaller tables and shelves. The circular backdrop of the workbench was the repurposed window of a TIE fighter.

An assassin droid was laid across the tabletop.

“Is this the droid that Mando shot?”

“I believe so, yes. It was left behind, in the Mandalorian’s wake of destruction. I found it lying where it fell—devoid of all life. I recovered the flotsam and staked it as my own in accordance with the Charter of the New Republic. Little remains of its neural harness. Reconstruction will be quite difficult.”

“What are your plans for it?”

“To convert it from an assassin droid to something more useful: a protocol and nurse droid.”

You nodded. “Handy.”

“I will have to reconstruct the neural harness, and then it will have to relearn every function from scratch. It will be a blank slate on which to program something nurturing instead of destructive. You may help me restore him if you would like.”

“Of course.”

The two of you got to work.

***

That night, when you lay down to sleep, you tossed and turned. The child was snuggled in a makeshift crib next to your bed. You found yourself sitting up periodically to check on him. Every time you checked on him, he was sleeping soundly.

Eventually, you slipped out of your bed, tiptoed quietly through the house, and walked out into the cold, clear night. You walked aimlessly for a while, circling the corral of blurrgs. They were asleep, eyes shut tight, standing in a close clump. Then you turned to head out across the open plain and watch the stars through the thin veil of clouds that dusted the sky.

You were starting to regret that you hadn’t pushed harder to go with Din. He was with a whole team of people who sounded untrustworthy at best, malicious at worst. You couldn’t help but think of all the things you should have said to him before he left. You hadn’t even hugged him.

It was freaking you out a little just how attached you were to a man who you’d known for a couple months.

You walked until the chill of the night air became too much, then turned back.

In the morning, you sat at Kuill’s kitchen table again, feeding the child. Kuill moved around the small food prep area, pulling together breakfast and making tea.

You followed Kuill as he went about his daily jobs, caring for the blurrgs, doing routine maintenance, and continuing the work on IG-11.

You were sweating in the sun, hands covered in grease, concentrating on refitting a damaged arm joint when Kuill’s calm voice brought you out of your train of thought.

“It is curious that the Mandalorian elected to keep the child.”

You looked up at him. “He secretly has a soft heart,” you said, smiling to yourself.

“Yes, that much is clear, but he is also set in his beliefs, and this choice went against the Guild Code. What is curious is that such a small being could inspire a change of heart in such a rigid person.”

You considered his words.

“I... think he was just waiting to find a greater purpose than hunting, to find someone to love, you know? It comes naturally to him, but I don’t think he’d ever had the chance.”

Kuill hummed thoughtfully. “Is that not what we are all doing—looking for a greater purpose?”

“I guess?” You shrugged.

“And have you?”

“Have I what?” you asked, wiping a bead of sweat off your forehead.

“Have you found the greater purpose you were looking for?”

You considered for a moment then said, “Well... I found a purpose a long time ago, when I joined the Alliance, and since then, I’ve been too busy trying to escape the wrath of the Empire to really think about what’s next in the larger sense... Staying alive has been the main priority.”

Kuill hummed again, glancing over at the kid. “You weren’t looking for something greater, but it appears to have found you.”

“I...,” you started. You watched the child, who was siting on the hard ground admiring the silver ball clutched in his hand. “I’m not sure.”

“I have spoken,” said Kuill, bowing his head, and he lapsed back into silence.

You watched the kid as he dropped the ball and staggered to his feet, squealing excitedly as he chased a lizard that darted past him. You wondered where Din was at this exact moment, and your heart squeezed in a familiar way.

***

The second night was much like the first. You walked outside for some time, thinking of all the awful things that could be happening to Din.

What if they turn on him?

What if another hunter finds him?

What if he doesn’t come back?

It wasn't a crazy thought. You were used to people not coming back.

Until that moment, you hadn't considered that you'd be the sole guardian of the kid if Din didn't return. For a split second, you felt the crushing weight of responsibility for the life and safety and happiness of the tiny green child that Din must feel at all times.

Eventually you fell into a fitful sleep, waking early, and the day dawned bright and cold. As the sun climbed, the chill rapidly dissipated, making way for a dry heat that seemed to be the only weather condition on Arvala-7.

You spent the morning helping Kuill continue the repairs on IG-11. You did your best to not count the hours that slipped by. He’d said it could take three days, so there was no reason to be concerned yet.

But... did he mean he would return ON the third day? Or the fourth day?

And for that matter... did the day he left count as day one? Or was yesterday day one?

Did he mean seventy-two hours from the time he left? Or that he’d be back at the start of the third day?

How did I not clarify this before he left??

That evening, you were in deep in discussion about artificial intelligence when Kuill said, “I believe your Mandalorian has returned to you.” He pointed behind you, and you whipped around to see the Crest touching down in a cloud of dust in the distance.

“Will you—?” you asked, turning back to Kuill.

“I will watch the child.” He seemed vaguely amused by your enthusiasm.

You sprang to your feet and walked as fast as you could toward the Crest. You briefly considered running, but that felt dramatic. He’d only been gone a couple days.

Why did he land so fucking far away?

You’d made it about half the distance when the ramp of the Crest finally began to lower with a hiss. Your resolve snapped, and you started to jog. Din descended the ramp, and you were so relieved to see him that you weren’t even embarrassed anymore that you were literally running to him.

Din cocked his head—a curious head tilt—when he saw you sprinting at him across the dusty ground. He paused at the bottom of the ramp.

“Are you—?” he started to say as you crashed into his chest and wrapped your arms around him. He barely budged upon impact.

His shoulders relaxed immediately, and he pulled you tight against him.

Well, if he wasn’t a hugger before, he is now.

“I’m okay,” he reassured you.

“Good,” you said into the fabric bunched around his neck.

After a moment, you released him and stepped back, the steadying weight of his hands remaining on your arms. He looked like he was in one piece, but the slight heaviness in his shoulders told you that the job had taken a toll on him.

“I, uh, missed you too,” he said, a little awkwardly.

You smiled at him and took his gloved hand in yours to walk back towards Kuill’s home. You felt slightly giddy that you were casually holding the Mandalorian’s hand. He seemed taken by it too, his helmet tilted down to where your fingers were intertwined.

“The kid?” he asked, looking up to your face.

“He’s good. Misses you, I think. Ate several frogs. And one lizard. The usual. He is disgusting,” you laughed.

Din made a sound that you would almost swear was a snort. “Yeah, he is,” he agreed fondly.

Kuill was waiting outside his home, the child in his arms. When you and Din were close, Kuill set him down, and the baby tottered over to wrap his tiny arms around Din’s calf.

You watched as Din bent stiffly, slowly to pick up the kid.

“You’re hurt,” you realized.

“I'm fine,” he said.

You felt sure that wasn’t true, but you let it be for the moment.

“Thank you,” Din addressed Kuill. He reached into the pouch of his belt for credits.

“I will not accept payment,” Kuill insisted, shaking his head. “In fact, your friend here helped me make great progress on my current project.” Kuill raised his eyebrows at you.

“Very well,” Din acquiesced.

You gathered your things and said your thank yous and goodbyes, returning to the Crest, which—with a jolt—you realized was already starting to feel like home.

***

Chapter 8

***

Taglist: @bbdoyouloveme @beskarhearts @bookloverfilmoholic @elinedjarin @eury-dice3 @dincrypt @dunderr @honey-hi @jagi-yaaa @just-me-and-my-obsessions00 @mbpokemonrulez @red-leaders @speakerforthedead0 @tuskens-mando @spideysimpossiblegirl @theflightytemptressadventure @ubri812 @zoemariefit

If you want to be added or removed, let me know!

#my writing #tempered glass #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian fanfic #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin fanfic #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x female reader #din djarin x female reader #the mandalorian x f!reader #din djarin x f!reader #mature #mando x you #mando x female reader #mando x f!reader

270 notes · View notes

gb-patch · 3 years

Text

Ask Answers: July 10th

I really let asks get away from me lately. I was super focused on working on that Patreon Moment. With that done I can finally think about doing other things, so here’s a new collection of answers!

Thank you for sending in questions everyone ^^.

For the new Patreon moment, will you be able to reference it in step 4? Or just like a tiny nod to it if you pick certain choices?

There won’t be. I’m sorry if you were hoping for that! The Patreon moment is meant to be entirely optional, it’s not something that gets you extra content in the main game.

Is the new CG artist the main one now? :0 I’ve noticed theres been a difference in the art style recently. Is the old CG artist still going to make art for the game? :0

The original artist still makes CGs for the game sometimes, but he mainly focuses on character sprites.

Are you going to put the NSFW our life moment on a website other than patreon? I would love to get it but I can't use patreon atm.

I don’t know. I'm afraid we can't release the Patreon Moment on a normal game storefront because we can't mix 18+ content with our family friendly game. If there's some other place similar to Patreon where it's not the normal type of full-scale public content releases we'd consider using that, but I’m not sure if there is another site that’s better than Patreon in that regard. I'm sorry.

Out of curiosity, in all of your games so far, which characters in each were the most fun to write? They obviously don't have to be your favorite characters!

Buffalo Seer in AFA, really everyone in XOD/XOBD is pretty equally entertaining to write, The Guide in LoV, and Cove in OL!

idk if you accept "personal" questions, but is there anything you've been watching/ listening to lately

Mostly, I’ve been watching/listening to Authortube videos as of late! It’s people who talk generally about the process of how books become traditionally published and/or share their own experience as they attempt to be published. I don’t have an interest in writing normal text based books, but it’s really interesting to hear about that world. I’m listening to a video about royalties right now as I answer these asks.

Will one of the desserts we get to pick be fudge? That'd be such a cute reference!

Haha, yeah, it should. Unless I completely blank on it and forget when trying to include the various referential food options.

I don't know if this has been asked previously but what would be the approximate heights for the presets MC can choose from Step 2 ~ 4? Are there any measurement you had in mind? Sorry if I didn't make myself clear kk I've been struggling with my English lately 💀

I don’t know, ahah. I didn’t have any numbers in mind for that. So it’s whatever you imagine it is!

I noticed a bug with the Patreon moment when it comes to what your character wears. When Jamie and Cove are kissing while my character only had dresses selected, I had both the option to remove the dress or to remove the shirt... Picking one of the options to interact with Cove, after he removed his shirt, it had Jamie remove their shirt followed by ther pants despite only having dresses picked.

Thank you for reporting ^^

I keep refreshing steam to see when the new doc for xobd will be released. I noticed you haven't posted anything about it in quite some time. Would it be possible to ask about a timeline/potential date? (If it's even this year—) I know you and your team are probably working super hard, I'm just super curious! ~Thank you!~

There are more stories done, I just haven’t gotten around to publicly releasing them. Hopefully I will have a chance to spend the time on that sooner rather than later!

hello!! i’m not sure if it’s an update but i’ve just replayed our life and at the end i can’t propose to cove anymore? :(( i’ve actually tried playing twice but the options are not there anymore, did you guys remove the options? i’m sorry if you’ve answered this before!! thank you and have a good one :)

I’m afraid things haven’t been changed or removed, so I think you might’ve accidentally picked the wrong things somewhere along the way and locked yourself out of being able to propose by mistake. Sometimes you meant to say you want to get married but instead you mis-click and have it so the MC isn’t thinking about marriage or something. All I can suggest is starting from the beginning of Step 3 and making sure to follow the steps listed in the FAQ. I’m sorry for that.

Did yall remove some of the options for when youre making out with Cove in the charity moment? I could've sworn you could grab his bonkadonk and its not there anymore

This is the same situation as the above. We didn’t remove things and you’re not wrong that there are sometimes those options. But there are various choices you have to make to get those options and it sounds like you accidentally missed something. If your relationship isn’t long-term, you can’t do it for example.

HI IM SO EXCITED I CAN FINALLY GET THE STEP 3 DLC

Thank you for getting it!

Is Shiloh super totally straight bc I’m very gay and a huge Shiloh fan, would my man make an exception?😩

Sadly, he is one of our super straight characters. I’m sorry.

Hi, I have a very dumb question. In Step 2 does Cove not wanna share his drink with us at the mall (or rather why he stops drinking it) because it's an indirect kiss? Or is it like ...weird to him to share? Because if I remember right he eats off our spoon in the birthday scene right?

Yeah, he’s awkward about it because he likes the MC and it feels very personal to share a straw with his crush.

Hi! If you don't mind me asking, who is the artist for OL2? Their style is so pretty!

Thank you for saying so! This is her Twitter- https://twitter.com/redridingheart

Do Beginnings & Always and Now & Forever exist in the same universe?

Yep! XOXO Droplets also exists in the same universe. It’s one big GB Patch world, haha.

Do Pran's parents regret the way they raised him? Do they feel ashamed of it?

No. They’re the type of people best cut out because they’re not gonna change. Which is why Pran does go very limited contact when he’s an adult.

Hi! I just wrapped up my second playthrough of Our Life, and I absolutely adore it, but I had a question. I went to the gallery and found I was missing 2 CGS (specifically Step 1-3 and 2-3) and I had no clue where they would've shown up. Which moments are those found in?

You get it by telling Cove about his dad offering you money to be his friend in Step 1 and Step 2. You can’t get both in one playthrough, since you can only tell Cove the truth once. I’m really glad you liked it!

Hi hi! Please, how tall is Baxter and Derek? Love the game so much and I can't wait to see more!

I don’t know, aha. I think Baxter was around 5′10 and Derek was like 5′8/5′9, maybe. I really am not one who has specific heights for things in mind.

is adult cove a bottom, top, or switch?

A switch, though would choose the top if he had to pick.

I was wondering if there is a way to transfer save data? Even if through the game files. I wanted to be able to transfer my save data from my desktop over to my laptop so that I could continue playing right where I left off from but I'm not entirely sure how to go about that.

If you save the save folder/persistent data of the game from your desktop and put it into the game folder on your other device, that could work.

Hi! Is it possible for us to know the date when our life: now and forever comes out on steam? Sorry if you've mentioned it before but I haven't seen it and I'm looking foward to that happening and just wanted to know :)

It’s gonna be a long time, I’m afraid. There’s no estimate right now.

I started playing Our Life with my sister a while ago, and I think you guys should know that we discovered your secret. >:)

L from death note and Cove are clearly the same person, and this whole game is just an origin story!!

I’ve never seen that show so I’m sorry to say I don’t understand the connection/reference you’re trying to make. I’m pretty out of the loop when it comes to media. I don’t watch movies or TV.

Will OL2 have options for disabled MCs?

I understand if it's too complicated, just curious

Unfortunately, it’s not really something we have a plan for. We couldn’t finish the game if we tried to include every disability and have it be meaningful. It’d just be too much content to create. But if we decide to only include a few, how would we choose which disabilities get to be represented and which are left out? I don’t know. It’ll probably have to be something we don’t include as an option again, sadly. I’m sorry.

playing our life > anything else

Haha, I’m glad you’re enjoying it.

Honestly, I would like to thank Our Life for helping me come to terms with my sexuality. Before, I never would've actually thought that it was possible to like boys romantically and still be asexual. Almost all of the BL visual novels I've read had unskippable sexual content in them and it honestly just didn't click with what I feel. I'm glad I found Our Life. I love the game, the developers, and this fandom so much. Now, I can safely come out as homoromantic AND asexual (at least anonymously here anyway; my parents are still huge homophobes 😂).

Aw, it’s great to hear you felt comfortable being yourself in the game! That’s wonderful. I’m really sorry about your parents, though.

Will the demo for OL2 be on android? Really not sure if I could wait any longer than I have to aha

Yeah, it’ll be available for Android once we eventually release a demo!

Do all these reveals perhaps mean development is progressing ahead of schedule? Please let that be the case I'm already obsessed with Qiu

No, sorry, aha. Art comes along much faster than script/programming-work for us. It’s gonna be a long time before the game is a finished thing you can actually play. But at least we can look at the beautiful images.

Hey! First of all I wanna say I reallllllyyyyy loooovvveeee Our Life and XOXO Droplets! I have over 300 hours of playtime on Our Life… Anyways, I was just wondering, are the Derek and Baxter DLCs going to come out at the same time? If not, which one do you plan to release first? :3

They will come out separately and Derek will be first! Glad you like the game.

I keep replaying Our Life to get every possible iteration and I am loving it <3 I was wondering if Cove gets locked out of his confession because MC was talking to Lee, would it be possible to confess to him in step 4?

Yeah, you can avoid the confession in Step 3 and then get it in Step 4.

Hi, my Cove wears bracelets through step 2 and 3 but I still don't get an option to give him a bracelet? I didn't even know that was possible until I seen someone else ask about it lol

Hm, did you use the Cove creator? Maybe there’s a bug where using the creator to add bracelets doesn’t fulfill the requirement to give Cove a bracelet in Step 3.

Wait, I'm dense, when does Baxter appear in step 2? Is it from big park firework? I feel so bad since i really love Baxter and waiting to buy his dlc.

It’s in the Soiree Moment. You have to be just friends with Cove, indifferent, or crushing but not ask Cove to the dance at all. Then while there you can find someone new to dance with. But if you bring Cove to the dance while crushing, the MC won’t wanna dance with anyone else so you can’t get the scene.

In step 2 when we go to the soiree I made my mc go alone and baxter chooses the mc to dance, i'm curious, why did he pick the mc? sorry if this has been asked before!

Because the MC looked to be around his age, seemed to also be searching for a partner, and had nice legs. A perfect option for him.

I read some of the FAQs, and I saw that we could tell Baxter about the condo that he rented there was previously the mean old grandparents. how do we get the mc to tell him that?

It happens in the DLC Moment “Late Shift”. If you don’t have a job you instead get a longer scene with Baxter.

I don’t know if you’ve addressed this or not, but are you planning on paying voice actors for our life: now and forever?

Yeah, we pay our VAs in all our projects.

hey can i ask how you did the moments thing in ol? im trying to get into making visual novels and while im VERY sure its out of my comfort zone and all that atm i kinda wanna know just for the future, bc im p sure it would work well for something i wanna do :O but its also fine if you cant say for other reasons :>

I’m afraid I’m not sure what you mean. Are you asking how we programmed the screen or something script related? Adding Moments like that is pretty straightforward, though. You just have buttons that open to different labels and then the scripts are essentially individual short stories/vignettes. Good luck with your VN!

Since Autumn becomes gender fluid later in the game, will there be a character who remains as he/him to romance in game?

OL1 has the he/him LIs, OL2 is all about other genders.

I don't want to impose on your creative plans, but a parrot could possibly make a good pet in an OL-type game? They're pretty long-lived and likely to still be thriving by the end even if the MC got them back in step 1.

I do appreciate the suggestion, but I’m afraid it’s not likely going to happen. I understand there are technically some animals that could theoretically live long enough to last the whole game that or we could have the MC only get a pet after some years have already passed. But the many things that would have to be considered/accommodated for makes it just something we probably can’t manage adding. I’m sorry.

As time passes will we be able to see Qiu and Tamarack's other stage arts as well?

They are both so cute i can't wait to be friends with them!

Yeah, we’ll show content from other Steps in the future. It’ll be a little while from now, though.

Can you date Cove and still have your family comfort you in the car?

You can’t get Cove’s Step 3 confession scene if you have the family comfort you in the car. But that’s not the only way to date him. You can get together with him earlier in the game or later on in Step 4.

Is Mc always going to be the one walking down the aisle or could Cove do it? Also could you choose to have one of your moms walk you?

No. Cove wouldn’t want to walk down the aisle like that and the MC automatically respects that. And the MC also gets to have their preferences respected, so it’s up to you whether they want to do an aisle walk or not. You also can pick who, if anyone, walks with you.

Once step 4 is out, will you be able to go the whole game on crush/love without either of you confessing?

Yes, as long as you tell the game you don’t want to progress the relationship. Even in Step 4 it won’t force you to officially get together.

Howdy, so in Step 4, there will be any Romance with Derek that is not part of any dlc?

He’s only a friend unless you get his romance story.

Will the step 4 in OL2 be one big step or are you considering moments?

Step 4 is just an epilogue in both games.

hi kind of a weird question but!! we know tht cliff doesn't start dating again but. wht abt flings? like does he ever do 1 night stands or anything? thank u!!!!!!!!!!!!

Nope. Cliff has a very small interest in sex. If he’s not in a real relationship with a partner he’s crazy about it simply isn’t something he feels a need for, so one night stands wouldn’t even cross his mind.

sorry if you've already answered this, but i was wondering if there were plans for there to be bonus love interests in OL2 like how we have derek and baxter in OL1.

Maybe! There are side characters who could be given romance stories, but whether or not it will happen depends on funding and how long everything else takes to finish.

I don't know if i'm allowed to ask about ol2 here yet, if not u can ignore this or answer it later. My question is can you date one of them and be good friends with the other? I don't want to be strangers with the other bcs i love them both a lot :<

Yes you can!

what patreon level do i have to be to unlock the nsfw moment? im on the $5 one right now, will that give me access to the moment, or just access to the moment progress?

That’ll give you access! Tier 2 and anything higher allows the player to download it.

#our life #ask #gb patch #gb patch games #all projects #Our Life Beginnings & Always #Our Life: Now & Forever

158 notes · View notes

mirrorforevers · 3 years

Text

here, there, and everywhere • graham coxon/reader

this fic is based on two prompts y'all sent me:

and

this fic really tested all of my blur knowledge holy Fuck. blur as talking heads au i guess. how cool would it be if they

1. had a girl bassist instead of the cheese tory dude

2. werent as unhappy as they were in the mid 90s (just a bit)

3. were just a little 🤏🏻 bit more female friendly lets just pretend this is a universe where the blurjob passes didnt exist heh

it took me everything i had to make this sound as realistic as it could be. u know these girls who think they could fix patrick bateman or don draper? perhaps y’all could fix blur

consider this a gift n not only me writing for your prompt, @nottuned! thank u so much for all your support n encouragement n for always bein so sweet 🥺 i hope u enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it!

let’s see how many references to unfortunate britpop moments y’all can find in this

also i hope i captured the silliness of the gossip and drama in that era well. if you enjoyed it, please leave an ask telling me more! ur feedback is rly important to me 😔✊🏻

tw (?) reader has shitty parents

word count: 7.938 (this one's quite long!)

smut. set in the 90s. au.

You were unlocking your door when you heard your house phone ring. The shrill sound echoed through the empty corridors as you hurriedly unwrapped your scarf, tossing your keys and backpack on nearby furniture as you ran to answer the call.

“Hello?” You answer, panting.

“Y/N?”

“Dave?” You smile, that call was a very welcome surprise. Your friend owed you an answer.

A few weeks ago, Dave Rowntree, your music classmate who became a close friend, told you that he had teamed up with two other proficient musicians to form a band. Dave was ecstatic, and every day he had new stories about his new friends to tell you between breakfasts and lunches that you shared between the countless hours of rehearsals. Even though you weren't part of the group, you already felt that you knew Damon and Graham like the back of your hand. Yin and Yang. One was expansive, ambitious, vain, impulsive. The other, shy, introspective, anxious and careful.

Damon Albarn wanted to be an actor, Graham Coxon had a firm foot in the visual arts. One was a fan of grand classical compositions, the other was a Beatles fan. They had been friends since they were children, in a seemingly unbreakable bond. Damon dropped out of his theater class not only because out of a sudden he had found a bigger calling in music instead of acting, but also because he couldn't stand being away from his best friend for so long. You found yourself often imagining their faces and voices while trying to make all of the wild and endearingly funny stories Dave told you more tangible in your head.

It was not long before Dave started dropping little hints that they needed someone else for their project. “It’s not that Graham isn’t good at bass,” he’d say, “but we could do better.” It wasn't at the top of your plans to be part of a band right now, especially as you were preparing intensely to join the Royal Academy of Music, and he knew it. When you mentioned the conversations you had with Dave about the boys on your family dinner, in quiet wonder and timid want of being part of something really exciting, your parents wrinkled their noses. Focus on the greater things, they’d say. Don’t let these boys distract you from your goal.

Our goal, they meant to say. Since you were born, you never knew if the things you wanted were really your will or theirs.

But anyway.

That dynamic went on for a while, until the day Dave invited you to audition for them while you shared a Diet Coke in the tube home.

“Will it take too much of my time?” You asked, coyly.

“Bold of you to assume we’ll let you in that quickly.” He chuckles, amused by your confidence. You playfully elbow him in return. He knew how good you were at what you did, though, and there’s lightness in his tone when he continues, “But no, unless you let it. You’ll probably have to stand up to Damon every once in a while.” He sips the drink, handing it over to you.

“What about Graham? How much is he determined to make it big?”

“Damon’s the one who wants it the most. Graham’s studying Fine Arts at Goldsmiths, so. There’s still cautiousness in him.”

“Huh. Okay then.” You reply, thoughts running wild. “Do we have a time and date?”

“Is tomorrow ok to you?”

“Sure. After our class?”

“Perfect.” The train reaches his station. He ruffles your hair: “See you tomorrow then.”

“See you.”

You don’t tell anything about it to your parents, you just warn them that you’ll arrive a bit later than usual. Dave’s intel was crucial to your choice of songs: knowing Graham was the beatlemaniac and also the rational brake to Damon’s tireless ambition, you knew who to please and have as an ally, so you build an innovative and fresh mashup of Paul McCartney’s greatest basslines to play for them. Of course it could backfire, but you didn’t care. You had a hell of a good ear anyway and if Damon wanted you to play anything out of the blue, you would improvise beautifully over it.

The day comes. You didn’t know why you were that nervous for an amateur audition. You weren’t even sure if it was the right path to follow, given that, depending on how focused Damon really was and how contagious his aspiration was, being part of a band could really take you out of your predestinated course. The reason why you were so nervous, now thinking a little more about it, may be because deep inside, you want your path to be a little less predictable. You didn’t want to fill your heart with hopes that you might make it big and travel all over the world because you didn’t even know them. But… what if it clicks? You knew some people in the scene whose work was getting seriously recognized out there.

Meeting them for the first time was an enigmatic experience. Damon was incredibly brash and cocky - not the first theater kid you’ve met in your life. Graham was way more approachable, though also a bit conceited when pushed just right. You wondered if you’d fit in that boys’ club, and decided you wouldn’t be an easy target for discredit or any kind of shit they might give you. “Took me a while to fully get their trust. You’ll do just fine”, Dave said, out of their earshot.

That gave you more fuel to play amazingly well. Damon definitely wasn’t one to be impressed quickly, but he was, when you finished your set. So was Graham - Graham was starry eyed with your performance, actually. Albarn showed you a song and asked you if you could improvise to it, just as you imagined. Of course you could, on the first play. You even suggested some adjustments to its structure. Your feedback was welcomed and noted.

Even though everything went surprisingly well, you still weren't sure if you would be a member of “Seymour”, as they called themselves. (You knew it wasn’t the best name, but you didn’t have a better suggestion at the time so you’ve kept your opinion to yourself.) Graham became eerily quiet out of a sudden and wouldn’t cross eyes with you the entire time you were there. Damon, well, was Damon. Perhaps he thought you were too ordinary and mainstream for deciding to play Beatles when he’s trying to be the new avant-garde Jesus.

But Dave's news was different than you expected. “They really, really enjoyed your audition. As I thought they would.” You can hear the smile in his voice. "When can you rehearse with us?"

Months after, on your first gig as a fully formed and integrated band, Damon was hit in the face by a guy twice his size, Graham vomited onstage and you and Dave had to take care of both. A beautiful way to close the already exquisite day you had, after you fought with your parents, got kicked out of your childhood home and gave up on entering the Royal Academy of Music two days after you received your acceptance letter featuring rave reviews of your entrance exam.

Dealing with these boys - no, grown-ass men - was hard, but not completely unpleasant. If it were totally unpleasant, you wouldn’t give up on your entire life to embark on such an adventure.

You - plural you - were so gifted and Damon’s compositions were so good. You could see that artsy pretentious mess of an act going somewhere. Of course, you were a bit lost in your life, but so were they, as you ran from city to city meeting new people and trying new things in your journey to fame.

Loneliness, once a close friend, became a distant acquaintance. One you didn’t know anymore.

You confess you were getting worried, though, with how much money you had left on your savings and how much you were spending lately now that your parents weren’t an active part of your life. Wanting to eat something you cannot dream of buying without that money being really useful in a much more critical situation, not having nearly enough money to replace something important that broke or got torn off was frustrating. Some basic things became luxuries out of a sudden.

One day in particular, you very briefly mentioned that you were dying to eat a slice of chocolate cake, but your voice was so small and everyone was so immersed in their duties you thought no one gave two shits to what you said. Two days later, Graham arrived late at rehearsal with a small chocolate cake in his hands, handing it over to you like it was a completely ordinary act. Nothing in the way he acted told you he expected a reward, it was so natural and… gentle. You knew no one in your band could buy a chocolate cake without it being apocalyptic to their personal finances during that time.

That day, you were assured by fate that feeling lost together was better than feeling guided alone.

The band finally got on track - strictly musically speaking. Personally speaking, many contemporaries who followed you at parties and other events described you as an ever-growing odd, annoying and intermittently disarming bunch - and Blur and its members became household names, at least in the UK. It became harder and harder everyday to impose yourself as an entire industry and its target public aimed to tear you down. Men couldn’t understand.

(Graham Coxon was the one who tried the hardest to.)

It was four in the morning. You’ve got used to following your bandmates to hospitals, running away from trouble or knowing when to relish in it. But it was the first time you offered yourself to clean up dried blood from one’s face, given how much you hated seeing the fluid and even fainted when younger whenever exposed to it.

You, so delicately, wipe the saline solution-soaked cotton across Graham’s face, who flinches at the cold sensation on his still sensitive skin. He stares at you with the eyes of a child, and you couldn’t help but give him a slight, warm smile in return, which he retributes. Your face conveyed gratitude and affection towards the one you were taking care of. Your hands still struggled to stay completely still after the surge of adrenaline your body received a few hours ago.

Being the only girl in a massive band, and one the music magazines and mainstream media loved sexualizing, meant having paparazzis in your window in odd hours (not that that’s acceptable in any hour, but you had to lower your standards even more these days), meant having different photographers trying to pressure you to get into all kinds of uncomfortable angles with skimpy-ass dresses and just count on the intervention of your fellow bandmates so they would stop, also having invasive male fans who would try to harass you in any way they could.

Of course the day where one of your bandmates would get into a fist fight with one of these men inserted into these categories would come. And even though they were all protective of you, each in their own peculiar, increasingly contradictory way, Graham’s dedication to it was sometimes commendable.

You were making your way through a small corridor of people on your way to the stage when a random guy cupped one of your breasts. It’s not like the venue was incredibly tight, it could not have been on accident and it made your blood boil. You turned around to scream at him, and Graham, who was just behind you, threw a punch directly towards the man’s face, without thinking twice.

And oh boy, took a lot of people and a sweet amount of time to separate the two after that.

After all was said and done, Graham had a few scratches, a black eye and a cut brow. He kept dodging your many “sorrys”, “you didn’t have to do this” and other expressions of guilt. “You have nothing to be sorry about, he deserved it”, he kept assuring you, like a mantra, just giving in to your pleas when you supplicated to take care of his wounds during intermission and after the show.

“I get why you did what you did, Gra. I hate that you took such a risk because of me, but I understand.” you say, voice cracking from not using it for a while after spending some good minutes in complete silence taking care of him. “However,” you soak another cotton ball in the saline solution a roadie got you, punctuating the word with a squeeze to the cotton to remove excess liquid. “I was worried sick about you. What if he… had a knife or something? You could’ve got seriously injured. Or killed.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’m perfectly able to have a good fight,” after wincing from the contact of the cold wet cotton with his dried blood, he purses his lips in a forced, shy smile, trying to light up the mood. He notices your hands are still shaking from the adrenaline, and takes one of them in his bigger ones, trying to calm you down. The fact that he did this for you, coupled with the fear and how tired you felt of having to go through that kind of situation once again, made you cry-laugh from how overwhelmed you felt.

His expression changes to one of pure compassion in an instant. “Hey, don’t--oh my,” he gets up from his chair to embrace you as you pour your frustrations through fat tears running down his shoulder.

“It’s so exhausting,” you mumble, through sobs. “Now I’m putting you in danger too. I feel like I did and I’m still doing everything wrong. I should be the one giving you a shoulder to cry on.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong! Anything at all, I promise you,” he says, tenderly, running his hands through your hair, still holding you tight. “It was his fault! I decided it was the right thing to do. You’re worth the risk. What people have been putting you through is unacceptable.”

“I’m not worth the risk!” You break apart from his arms, trying to get your point across. “What would I do without you if someone killed you? You need to be more careful!”

The silence hangs heavy between you two thanks to the weight of your words.

“You should’ve asked me before you lunged at him, at least. I don’t know.” You wipe your many tears as you move towards the nearest bottle of water to try to calm yourself down. “It’ll never end. I’m so afraid that these situations will get even worse. That,” you motion at his wounds and dirty clothes, “is a bloody tragedy. It’s a tragedy things escalated to this point. You can’t do that forever.”

“This is just a consequence. And something I would do for you in a heartbeat whenever necessary.”

“Graham, I don’t want you to get hurt because--”

“They hurt you. I won’t let you go through that alone. Besides,” he comes closer to you again. “As I already told you, I can take care of myself, most of the time.” He takes your face in his hands, his fingers so delicately running across your cheeks to dry your tears. You knew that gesture wasn’t his way of asking you for anything you weren’t ready to give him yet. He just wanted you to feel safe. “And I want to take care of you.”

“I’m the one cleaning your wounds.”

“A great partnership, I think.” Coxon chuckles softly, and finally gets a smile out of you. As he always does. “And they make me look cool, don’t you think?”

“Shut up.” You giggle, still feeling too emotional to return to the stage. You sigh: “Thank you for being there for me. You know I’m still not very used to it. Just please be safe.”

The roadie returns, a little flustered by interrupting your little moment together. “5 minutes and you’re back, guys.”

“Okay!” You both turn to answer her.

“I’ll be. No need to thank me for anything, Y/N.” He answers, giving your forehead a little kiss. “Let’s go.”

“Give me two minutes. I’ll be right behind you.”

“What’s it like, being the only woman in the band?”

Four eyerolls at once don’t seem to faze the interviewer. She waits for your response.

Apparently the thousand invasive questions regarding Damon’s love life and the same bullshit treatment of women as either rare specimen or sex dolls is what pleases the audience of music TV shows these days.

“What do you think?” is what you say.

“Must be a thrill to have these beautiful boys around you all the time. And we’ve heard you never even took advantage of it!”

You don’t like where this is heading. “Is that… a bad thing? I don’t know what you mean.”

“Perhaps some of our lady viewers might think it is. No judgement though!” She raises her hands. “You do you, it’s just that it’s quite unexpected to see prudes in non-Christian bands. I mean… from what we’ve heard.”

“I’m sorry? What are you trying to say? What did you hear?”

Her tongue clicks while she stares at you with defiance and mischief on her eyes, as she goes a little further and raises her voice so it can overlay yours. “Oh love. You do know what I’m talking about. There’s no need to be ashamed of being a virgin.”

Your cheek burns intensely and the only thing you wished for was for the ground to swallow you whole. Dave and Graham are especially uncomfortable. Damon’s a bit amused. The three knew almost everything there was to know about you. The one topic that surprisingly they didn’t know about is that you’re still a virgin.

They know you’ve been single for a long time. They know that’s part of what draws so much attention and twisted lore regarding you and your past, but that’s not something they felt they needed to know about you at all, and you truly never felt the need to comment about that with any of them, and they haven’t asked. Not even Mr. “the way to be successful in this game is to make all the boys wanna be you and all the girls wanna sleep with you. In your case that’d work in reverse” Damon Albarn.

“Is that even something that should be discussed in an interview about our music? Is that what your boss told you to ask her about?” Dave answers, his tone venomous.

“Musicians are way more than just music. You’re entertainment in every sense of the word.”

“Who told you that about me?” You asked, not sure if you want to know the answer.

“A lovely elderly lady who lives in Elgin Crescent. She knows you so well.”

That’s your mum. That’s how far low your relationship has degraded. You’re not surprised. That doesn’t feel less like a punch on your gut, but you don’t feel like tumbling again. Not today.

“I know who you’re talking about. Tell her I asked her to go fuck herself and burn in hell. In that order.”

“But that’s your--”

“Yes, she is my mum!” If people are going to expose you anyway, then why don’t you do it on your terms? “We’re truly entertainment in every sense of the word, aren’t we. Not everyone’s mum’s a cunt. Some of us aren’t that lucky.”

“You want to be the next Gallagher sister with the spicy remarks?”

“Not sure. But I do want to be the last person you ever get to interview.”

The management of the band wasn’t at all surprised your interview became UK’s topic of the week. People were heavily divided between family is family and we shouldn’t hate our relatives and blood isn’t everything, family can be shitty too. Your bandmates were proud of you. The management was angry but tried to understand, and didn’t press you for further explanations. They suggested a two-week break from everything so Blur could rest their image and start a fresh cycle after that, and you gracefully accepted it.

The whole thing seemed so ridiculous the more you thought about it. Did your mum tell the reporter about that gratuitously? What was their conversation like? How did that even happen?

You became the butt of jokes in some places. You saw other famous people doing challenges between them, countdowns, all sorts of crude remarks. What a pathetic, sad chapter of your career.

You dial Graham, and you feel like your heart was about to burst out of your chest.

“Hey, Gra. It’s me.”

“Hey, Y/N.” He sounds pleasantly surprised. “How's it going?”

“Better, I guess. I have to take my mind off all that chaos though. Are you available right now?”

“Yeah.”

“You’ve been owing me a movie night for quite a while now and I miss spending time with you. Wanna come over?”

“Aww. Sure, I--um. Do you want me to bring anything?”

“I’m pretty sure I got everything we need here--ah… I think I don’t have any more beers.”

“I’ll buy some then. See ya in a few minutes.”

Actually, you couldn’t take all that chaos off your mind because that was the only thing in it. You’re feeling so nervous.

The main reasons sex wasn’t a priority for you until now were:

You didn’t have any real opportunities of losing your virginity in your teens. You were impossibly introspective until, like, 3, 4 years ago, and the way your family worked hasn’t really allowed you to get really close to people. Be it boyfriends, girlfriends or just friends. Anything that threatened to take time off the various tasks and classes your parents assigned to you just couldn’t be part of your life. To be honest, you still struggled a bit to form meaningful connections with people thanks to how you grew up.

The moment you stopped being shy, you noticed it was a real man’s world out there, especially in music, classical or not. You didn’t want anyone to think you fucked your way up to the top, you didn’t want any messy affairs. Also, you had yourself, and you didn’t get all of the hype regarding the concept of screwing someone. But apparently there’s a lot you’ve been missing, given the importance people seem to give to it. After that incident, even though you swore to yourself you wouldn’t give in to any kind of misogynistic pressure, that was one that really got under your skin.

You never really found someone who you felt 100% safe with in that sense until the one who’s about to arrive at your house appeared in your life. Bloody hell, and you don’t even have anything romantic going on. By the time you were a Blur member, you’ve fooled around a bit, but not all the way. You knew how to kiss, knew how to touch yourself and even brought manual satisfaction to some random fool you thought you were into one time. But perhaps this is the time to go all the way. Why not? Everyone knew how close you two were. He made you feel special. He was so kind. And gorgeous. And--

You hear a knock on your door. It’s him. Beers in hand, hair somewhat in place, twitchy as ever.

He comes inside and you feel like your legs will give up anytime. It was not the first time he visited you. It was one of many, actually, and he noticed you were acting… different.

“Y/N, are you okay?” He asks after a brief dialogue between you two, after plating some snacks for both of you.

“Graham...” You sigh, being really careful with your words. “What is your perception of me?”

“My perception of you?” He smiles. “I… think you’re great. You’re fun to be around. You’re one of the best musicians I know, if not the best. Why are you asking me that?”

“N-nothing. It’s nothing. Also, I asked the wrong question. What was your first perception of me?”

“Uh… the day of your audition?”

“Exactly. You barely talked to me that day.”

His eyes lower to his own feet. “I was really timid, actually. I wasn’t used to being near any girl, especially one who… w-would spend so much time around me if everything went well.”

You giggle. “I thought you hated me.”

“Never!” his smile turns into a full blown laughter. You melt at his confession. “Also because it seemed like you were trying to read my mind or something.”

“Of course! Because I thought you hated me!” Now that was a laughter you two shared. You do a voice: “‘Why is that pesky girl trying to get in my band?’”

“My goodness, no! I don’t even sound like that - you know what, I changed my mind. You suck. Because, besides the fact you don’t even know what I sound like, you still haven’t told me why you are asking me that in the first place.”

You couldn’t help but notice how he slightly cornered you physically in one of the kitchen corridors. Graham could be really persuasive when he wanted to.

“Okay. Right. Um. I’ve been thinking about some stuff.”

“What, exactly?”

“Everything that happened this month. The great virginity debacle,” you roll your eyes, and he scoffs.

“You don’t own anyone any information about what you do or don't do with your life. Everyone’s being so invasive. That was incredibly childish of the reporter to do, and we talked about that hundreds of times.”

“Yeah, but… you know what, forget it.”

“Tell me, Y/N. I just said that because I want you to know you were not in the wrong.”

“I know. It’s just… I’ve been thinking that maybe it’s silly for me to… keep closing myself for affection. Any kind of affection.”

“What are you talking about?” His brows furrowed in curiosity.

“I’m not sure if it’s the pressure that finally got under my skin, but… I’m willing to learn what all the fuss is about. Maybe it’s silly that I’m still a virgin.”

He bites his lips, still processing what you just said, expression unreadable. Perhaps you’ve treaded a ground you shouldn’t. You step back both literally and figuratively. “I’m sorry I even brought that up--”

“No, no, don’t be.” He assures you. “I’m just… surprised, that’s all. I swear.”

“And...” You know what. You already went too far, so why not go all the way. You’ve already gone way past the point of no return. “I was wondering if… you would… popmycherry?”

His eyes widen, yours still closed. When you finally open them, he’s closer to you again.

If his head was a machine, you’re sure it would be releasing lots of steam and shaking due to overprocessing. You felt like you just ruined everything.

“Y/N, you don’t need to do it if you don’t really want to.”

“But I want it! At first I thought I didn’t, but then I thought...”

“I don’t want to be part of that if you’re just doing it to fulfill weird expectations.”

“But it’s not that. Not just... that. I asked about your perception of me because I really like you, Gra. I think we should be more than friends and I wanted to know what you think about me. And I want to know what the fuss is about, yes, but I’m not telling you that just so I can lose my virginity to prove some point. I’m telling you that because I like you, I want to kiss you, and I think it would be a great idea if you showed me what it’s like. Y-you know, sex.”

“I-I can’t believe it. Did you even have any movie in mind?” His smile’s back, but you’re still not confident about what his answer will be.

“I didn’t. I’m sorry. You don’t have to--”

He sighs. “I was in love with you the moment I first saw you, actually.” He says it like he’s releasing a huge load out of his back, his arms crossed. Now your eyes widen, and you hold your breath without even noticing. “I didn’t want you to feel pressured. I know how you feel, or, felt about relationships, so… there wasn’t any reason for me to tell you that. And what I said about being timid was just half of the truth.”

“Huh?”

��I also was really intimidated by how pretty you looked. You can’t imagine how.”

“No way.”

“It’s true. I felt like I wasn’t even worthy of looking at you, really.”

“You’re joking. That’s mean, Gra.”

“I’m not. I’m really not.” He doesn’t look like he is joking. He looks relieved. “I’m really not. That’s why I’m so surprised by your request.”

“I’m nothing special.”

“You are everything to me. But I can’t accept your offer, not now.”

“Are you… seeing someone? Am I too late?”

“No. Definitely not. I just want you to be sure you’re not doing it because people are saying you should.”

“Graham, I’m a grown woman.”

“I know.”

Graham carefully presses his slightly chapped lips to yours, kissing you for a few precious, heart stopping seconds before pulling away; his voice is impossibly silky when he suggests, “Let’s watch a movie. How about The Godfather? I heard it’s airing tonight. Then, if in two weeks you don’t change your mind, tell me and I’ll be glad to help you with what you want. Do we have a deal?”

“That’s so unfair. I want you so bad.” You whisper.

“Tell me if you still do in two weeks.”

You sigh, defeated. “...Deal.”

You definitely notice the subtle shift in Graham’s personality and actions after that fateful night. If you were already close, both figuratively and literally, it now seemed like he would use any excuse to always touch you, be near you, sometimes tease you. The shift was subtle, though, don’t forget it’s still Graham Coxon we’re talking about - the constant “is it okay if”s or “is it alright if I”s were still there, as careful as ever. You don’t even talk about your deal that entire time, or even kiss again - sometimes you wondered if it was even real or just a fabrication of your mind.

The way he now caressed your hand discreetly when you listened to Damon’s ramblings, the way his hands now went directly to your waist when your games became too handsy, the way he seemed to be madly in love with everything you were and still are from the start - made you realize you were ready for this man to be a consistent part of your life.

The dust of the controversy was settled, and your own intentions were 100% clear to you now. The societal pressure has waned. The need for Graham to be your first persisted. After exactly 2 weeks have passed, you call him again, yearning to share the answer with him.

One beep.

Two beeps.

Three beeps.

Four beeps. “Hello?”

You release a sigh hidden deep inside of your lungs. “Graham, it’s Y/N.”

“Oh. It’s been two weeks.” You could hear the contemplative tone of his voice.

“...Yeah. That’s precisely the reason I’m calling you.”

“Do you still want to…?”

“...Desperately.”

“Ok.” He chuckles, flustered as hell on the other side of the phone, probably one of the prettiest sounds you’ve ever heard. “Right. Ok. Your place or mine?”

“I think there’ll be an element of mystery if I go to your place this time.” You lose some of the constraints this silly shyness has been tying you on. “Do you have everything we might need there?”

“We don’t need a dungeon, you know.”

“The basics.” You make your smile heard.

“I do have… I do have the basics.”

“See you in a few minutes then.”

“Will you want to… ease into it? Or just go straight to it?”

“God, don’t make it awkward!” Your cheeks burn, your smile turning into contagious laughter. “Maybe… I don’t know. Ease into it, I guess? A movie night… but with s-something else?”

“Okay. Sounds good.”

“Alright then. See you.”

“See you.”

You don’t choose any particularly fancy or sexy clothes, instead settling for a slightly oversized yellow striped shirt he gave you as a birthday present some months ago and some skirt that fit you well. He wasn’t one to lavish his loved ones with gifts all the time, but few things were as precious as the look on his face whenever he saw you wearing something he gave you or, hell, even eating something he paid for you. You’re thrilled to see it again when he opens the door for you, it easing some of your deepest doubts.

2001: A Space Odyssey is already playing on the TV when you arrive. Despite it being one of your favorite movies of all time, and his, you’re not mad it was already halfway through when you arrived. It wasn’t your main priority to rewatch it for the 17th time tonight.

He offers you some wine, which you accept to ease the nerves. You sit on his couch, and he shares the cozy space with you, now mindlessly throwing one of his arms around your shoulders. You cuddle up to him, and everything seems peaceful in the world for a while.

The tip of his fingers softly caress your lifted knee, absentmindedly. You couldn’t help but notice how well his body fits with yours, how your skin was apparently made for him to touch, and the anxiety rumbles in your stomach like a storm in a wild wavy sea. After some minutes, you raise your head, his big brown eyes meeting yours as if asking you a silent question. You leaned up a bit more to press your lips to his, in a silent answer. The sweetness in him makes this moment as precious as every other moment you ever shared with him. His hands enter your hair, making you shiver a bit from the unfamiliarity and the electricity of it all - but it doesn’t sway you from deepening the kiss, wanting more of his taste, more of this, more of him.

“Do you wanna take this to the bed?” He whispers, after noticing your moans were becoming more frequent and needy. You nod, and you are taken by surprise when he carries you bridal style to it, hiding your excited giggles in his broad shoulders.

Graham wasn’t exactly the most organized man in the world - so the fact that his bedroom was now impossibly tidy was something that positively caught your attention. He put some planning into this. He lays you down and you part your legs, beckoning him to meet you between them. He does, and you go back to the breathtaking makeout session. You notice he’s holding himself back a bit, taking his time, his warm tongue moving smoothly, not hurriedly, against yours. His self control falters a bit though, given how he can’t stop grinding against you. You follow the rhythm of his hips a bit timidly and not nearly as in sync as you’d really like, though the pressure his covered cock is creating against your core can already be felt and some particular thrusts are able to fill at least partially the aching, wet need growing within you.

“How do you feel about oral?” He asks, breath warm near your ear, his voice raspy and spent by his desire for you.

“Um… It would be my first time receiving or doing it.”

“Would you like me to go down on you?”

“Wow. I never thought I would hear you saying something like that.” You smile, still assimilating the situation you’re in, trying not to show how badly his voice is affecting you. “Sure.”

“I never thought I would get to propose this to you. Aren’t we full of surprises lately.” He smiles back, warmly. He notices your hands trembling a bit from how anxious you are while you’re taking off your underwear with his help, and as he lowers himself to where you need him most, he takes your hands in his as an act of reassurance. “Tell me what you like. Tell me if what I’m doing works for you. I want this to be a great experience.”

“You want me to get addicted to you, that’s what you want,” He chuckles, lovingly kissing your thigh as a reply. “Okay, Gra. Guess I’ll find out along the way.”

You quickly take a peak below you to see the lower half of his face disappear in the middle of your thighs. The sight alone sets your fire ablaze, as he hooks his arms around your thighs and lifts you closer to his mouth, his lips ghosting over the curls between your legs tantalizingly and his breath catching when your hips jerk forward.

As he begins his ministrations, you immediately notice it’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt. That feeling was completely alien to you. It was even wetter than you expected, and weird, but powerfully pleasant. Before this exact moment, you had a firm belief that hardly anyone else would make you feel the same way, or better, than you do yourself, but apparently you were very wrong. Thankfully you were wrong. “My god,” you gasp as the flat of his tongue drags over your folds, too much and not enough, and you jerk at the contact. “This is great. So weird, but-- great.”

He moans at your response, his movements carefully enthusiastic. He works his tongue between your folds and traces up to curl the tip of it around your clit, and it’s quite endearing and madly arousing to see how he eats out you like you’re the sweetest and tastier dessert he has ever tasted. You involuntarily buck against him with a desperate sound the moment he moves his tongue and lips in a particularly wicked way, something that definitely doesn’t go unnoticed by him, but you still feel the need to highlight in case it didn’t - “That. Keep doing that, please,”

And he does. The building of this climax is also different than the ones you already had by your own hands, and is more coy. As he sees the drops of sweat sliding along your soft skin and the expressions on your face as you get lost in this new but enchanting sensations, his hesitation and self-control fades away; there’s nothing uncertain in the way he buries his face in your cunt now, nothing restrained in the groan he lets out as he devours you and drinks you down as if you’re the first stream of water he has seen in days.

His tongue glides deeper in your folds again and again, swirling up through the wetness you’re coated with to tease at your clit while he grunts and strains closer, squeezing your thighs with both hands tight. The wave of heat inside of you is cresting so fast, you don't even know how to tell him, how to signal that you’re nearly done for and, in the end, it happens too fast to even try. He sucks at your clit, circling it with his tongue, once, twice, and then you’re crying out, shaking underneath him, trying to keep your thighs from clenching too hard around his head as he laps you through it with with urgent whimpers and moans, as if he cannot have enough of you.

You’re still trembling when he rises, the look on his face revealing to you how proud he feels by making you feel this way. It looks so good on him.

You fail miserably at the simple task of connecting words together after that, choosing instead to collect your remaining strength, prop yourself up and beckon him again to keep kissing him and learn, through his talented tongue, how you taste. He kisses the thin fabric of the shirt at your chest that covers you from view, your throat, your jaw, and before he reaches your impatient lips, he notes, sinfully, “Seems like you enjoyed yourself, love.”

“That was… unbelievable. Stars, I want to make you feel good too. Please show me how.”

“Keep kissing me,” he begs, voice still strained from how aroused he is. “I want to be inside you so bad. Let’s get you prepared.” You’re still so sensitive, you tread on overstimulation when his fingers lightly touch your clit, making you break the kiss in a hiss. He traces a line on your folds, inspecting the impact his mouth had on you. “So wet for me.”

“Bit slower, Gra,” He complies to your breathy plea, his fingers now more tame as he slowly spreads your wetness throughout your pussy. He stretches towards the nightstand to grab a bottle of lube, interrupting his contact to spread some on his fingers before unhurriedly slipping his middle finger inside of you. The coldness of the gel makes you shiver in surprise, the easiness brought by it very welcomed. Again - the sensation is odd. Completely unfamiliar. The feeling of having something inside of you for the first time, going further than you ever dared to try, probing, exploring; the coldness of the lube clashing against your burning hot cunt. But it also felt nice. The focused look on his face was adorable, he looked like he was a scientist in the middle of very complex research.

Despite the panting, the messy hair and the fire in his eyes.

Your body already has a lot of new sensations to process simultaneously, so when he asks you to take off your bra and shirt so his tongue can work on your nipples - which you gladly accept, you feel like you’re on sensual overload. His tongue, again, so talented, takes your mind off the slight burning you feel when he introduces his ring finger to your soaked, throbbing core, his focused, carefully overpowering and constant stimulation driving you insane.

“Does it feel good?” He asks, voice muffled by your breast. You nod, carried by the wave of pleasure sweeping you.

“Yes. God, yes.” You pant, tangling your fingers tightly on his thick hair as an encouragement, a desperate sound escaping from your lips the moment he reaches a certain point within you you didn’t even know existed, hot mouth continuing to lick and suck your nipple. Even though you were spent by your last orgasm, he was indeed getting you addicted to those new feelings, and even though this was heavenly, truly heavenly, you needed more. “Gra, I’m ready, I think.”

“You sure?”

“Yes. Please.”

Releasing your nipple from his lips with a sounding pop, he eagerly frees himself from his trousers - hard as a brick - and puts protection and lubrication on, swiftly positioning himself between your thighs while stroking himself to the sight in front of him. You motion to take off your skirt, and he holds your hand, not letting you. “Don’t. It’ll be really hot to fuck you in this.” He confesses, giving your forehead a kiss in a very different context than before. He aligns his forehead with yours, each of your lips just barely touching while you breathe each other’s air. He looks deep into your eyes, slowly running the tip of his cock between the slick folds of your pussy, coating himself in the remnants of your pleasure. “Do you trust me?”

You trust me to know your limits? Not to go any further if you don’t really want me to?

“Absolutely.”

The only response you get from him is a shuddering, helpless moan into your mouth and you hold him tighter to you, grinding your still sensitive cunt up against his cock while he pulls hard at the soft fur next to your head. You feel your soaking pussy lips part around the solid curve of his length and gradually coat the underside of him in slick with every gentle circle and roll your hips make, as he finally pulls away from your mouth to drop his forehead to your neck. He then, very slowly, penetrates you, stopping when he hears the noises you make indicating you’re struggling to adjust to his presence. Out of everything you’ve felt in the last minutes, this was by far the most painful sensation. “This-- is new,” you note, your face completely incapable of hiding the discomfort. He also notices that.

“Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?”

“It’s okay. I’ll get used to it.”

“It’s not supposed to be about endurance, you know.” He says, a bit breathless and worried, caressing your hair. “Tell me when it’s okay to move. Or if you feel too much pain.”

After some long seconds and some deep breaths, you say: “Okay. Go on.”

“As you wish.”

He moves inside you at a very slow pace, the lubrication clearly making it easier for you to handle it. It still hurts, significantly, but the sensation of being filled is also surprisingly arousing.

His hand moves to your sensitive clit again in small, measured circles, your little moans being a mixture of the pain of penetration and the sheer ecstasy of seeing him falling apart because of you. The way his chest heaves while the drops of sweat start pearling his fair skin, the furrowed brows and broken groans, the thickness of him as he rests heavy up against your entrance, the way his voice presses deliciously tight in his throat as he gasps out into the quiet room - everything’s making your chest burst in love and satisfaction. You tighten your grip around him and roll your hips up into his cock, letting it break you open nice and slow; it stretches you wide with a deliciously sharp fullness and pleasure rips through you, and Graham becomes even more vocal as he picks up a steady and gradually faster pace. He turned all of your keys, it’s about time you turn some of his.

“Graham, deeper,” you whimper, continuing to tighten your legs and hoist yourself up, lifting your hips to take his cock deeper inside you. His name rips itself from your throat while Coxon clenches his jaw and starts to lose himself in the pleasure, holding you down into the bed while he allows your desperation to guide him to the perfect angle and speed to sate you. He found denying you to be impossible.

He snarls and curses as he holds you down and rails you, determined to make you sing again before he finishes, and to his delight, your heightened sensitivity gives him what he wants. And this time, he couldn't hold on.

Graham kisses you one last time as he groans and gives in, head dropping to your neck again. You didn’t reach a second climax, but stars, what an experience you just had.

When he comes back to himself enough to realise he still had you practically folded in half, he carefully pulls his softening cock free, taking the condom off and taking the strands of hair out of your face as you struggle to catch your breath. You suggest a shared bath, a suggestion he gladly accepts.

Too tired and too sore for pillow talk, comfortable silence falls as your hand finds his, and you lay, listening to each other’s breathing slowly settle.

I could get used to his little snore on my chest, is the last thought that twinkles on your mind before you fall asleep snuggled with him.

#graham coxon #alex james #damon albarn #dave rowntree #blur #britpop #smut #imagine #reader insert #graham coxon x reader #graham x reader #y/n #fluff #au #fanfiction #blur band

214 notes · View notes

queenmuzz · 3 years

Text

So, anyways, I saw something @liulyam had posted for Spardaverse a while back I DON'T KNOW HOW I MISSED THEIR WONDERFUL ART FORGIVE ME! Anyways, I saw specifically THIS piece of art, and it sent the brain juices into overdrive....

So, the same thing plays out everyday. Nero gets off the school bus and runs in, backpack flying, and tells his uncle excitedly about his day at school, before racing up the stairs to tell his dad the same thing, in the same adorably animated manner. Unfortunately, Vergil doesn’t respond the same way as Dante, sitting still, not even acknowledging that the boy is talking to him. Initially, Nero doesn’t mind, understanding his recently rescued father has been through a lot, and needs time and patience to recover. But as the months pass by, Dante notices that his nephew doesn’t run up the front steps as eagerly, his descriptions of school become shorter, paler. And most worryingly of all, Nero spends less and less time with Vergil, preferring to peek his head in the man’s room, sigh, and slowly make his way to his own room, closing the door sullenly.

“What’s going on Nero?” Dante takes the plunge and asks him one day, before the boy trudges up the stairs. “You haven’t been that rambunctious ball of energy lately.”

Nero kicks the worn hardwood floor. “It’s dad… I know you told me I need to be patient,” his face scrunches up at the word, it’s a thing he’s never been able to truly do. He’s definitely a Sparda boy. “But he just keeps ignoring me. He won’t talk, won’t even look at me. It’s like I don’t even exist! Maybe...maybe he doesn’t want me to exist-”

“Hey now!” Dante needs to nip this train of thought in the bud. He knows first hand where it can lead to. Had he not found Nero nearly nine years ago, while wandering the world, drinking up every bar’s entire inventory in a vain attempt to fill a void in his chest, who knows where he would have ended up? “Your dad...well, even without the stuff he’s been through, he was never much of a talker. Always preferred to have his actions speak for him.” “But that’s the thing, Uncle Dante!” Nero blurts out, close to tears. “He DOESN’T DO ANYTHING!!! He doesn’t care!” And with that, Nero bolts up the stairs, past Vergil’s room, not even checking up on him, and slams his bedroom door with such force, Eva’s portrait wobbles on the desk and tips over. Dante sighs, sets his mom back up, and slowly makes his way up the stairs. Not to Nero’s room; Dante knows better than to provoke that tiger cub when he’s in an ornery mood. It’s time to talk to his dad.

Vergil, or what’s left of him, is sitting in an oversized chair, the only one that fits his giant frame, facing the window, the only one in the place with a view. If he’s heard the ruckus (and Dante knows he has), he makes no indication that it affects him.

“Verg,” he calls out, “I know it's been rough, I know I piled on a lot of shit on you, the whole thing about having a kid and everything these past nine years. I’m not expecting you to just snap back to normal, and start insulting me like in the good old days, but…” Dante’s not good at this sort of thing. He’d rather Royal Guard his emotional turmoil. It used to be with alcohol, but now it’s with a cheery smile. “The kid needs a sign that you’re still there, you’re still fighting. I know you are, hell, you’re the one that helped me take down that bastard Mundus on Mallet Island. But that’s the thing, Nero’s only heard things that you’ve done, not seen them. You need to show him yourself, otherwise…” Vergil makes no motion, and even Dante, stubborn as he is, knows it’s fruitless to continue much more, “you’re gonna lose him too.” And then Dante heads back downstairs, to see if he can whip up a snack to bribe his nephew to come out of his lair. Strange, he swears he hears the rustle of fabric from Vergil’s room, as if his brother had just moved.

Nero sits at Dante’s desk, working on his math homework. It’s his least favourite thing, fractions. Uncle Dante is a whiz at them, and usually would be able to help him, but he’s gone out on an ‘Really quick, won’t be more than a half hour’ errand run. It’s been nearly two hours, and the only other adult here is his dad… so Nero is practically by himself.

Suddenly, the hairs on the back of Nero’s neck prick up, and he hears scrabbling at the front door. He’s still not allowed to go out with Uncle Dante or Auntie Lady on their hunts, but he knows what a demon feels like, especially when there are a lot of them. ESPECIALLY when they’re really powerful Instinctively, he grabs a chair, and wedges it underneath the door knob, and looks around in a panic. He’s never had to deal with a demon attack by himself before. He remembers his uncle has a case of weapons that he was told to NEVER touch beside the jukebox, but Nero figures that he can say sorry to his uncle later. He smashes the lock with a billiard ball, and yanks open the lid. He’s disappointed. He thought there would be a treasure trove of swords and guns, but all there are two swords, one red and one blue. But he doesn’t have much of a choice, and the whine of protesting wood ends with a thunderous CRASH, and demons pour through. “FIND THE HERETIC GOD SLAYER!” One says, before turning in Nero’s direction. Without much warning, it shrieks as it launches at him with razor sharp obsidian claws.

Nero might be little, but his uncle has trained him well. Whipping the two blades around, they connect the monster’s waist in a pincer move, and like a pair of scissors, bisect it in a shower of blood and ash. Nero swears he hears a voice (or is it two voices?) approvingly say, “Impressive!” but doesn’t have a chance to savour his very first demon kill as another demon comes at him, knocking him over. The reddish gold blade clatters away on the floor, way out of reach, not that it matters. Nero’s pinned to the ground by a skeletal foot, as the demon lifts a blade to impale him. He squeezes his eyes shut, preparing for the end.

The final blow never comes. Instead, he hears shriek, and the pressure on his chest instantly subsides. He opens his eyes, to see it stagger back, its decapitated head clattering to the floor. Its brethren likewise are either dead or dying, their high pitched screams shattering the glass in the jukebox.

Nero’s first thought is that his Uncle has finally come home, Dante’s come to save me! But what’s odd is that there’s no sound of Dante’s beloved Ebony and Ivory. And last he checked, his uncle never was able to shoot out blue ghostly blades that now impale most of the horde. But it doesn’t matter, because his uncle is here to save the day! That is, until he yelps as he’s quickly, but not roughly picked up and held as whoever holds him spirits him out of the building, the blue blade still clutched in his hand. Nero begins to panic, but hears a voice, almost like a croak, as if the vocal cords had been in disuse for years…

Nero

And even though the voice is harsh sounding, it's one of the most comforting things Nero’s ever heard.

Of course that half hour errand run would turn out to be three hours. But when he was promised a free pizza for clearing out that demon nest on the West side, Dante couldn’t say no. Besides, he’d pick up some freshly baked chocolate chip cookies on the way home as a way of apologising to Nero. The kid might be cross with him, but he’d forgive him the moment he smelled those chewy biscuits. Dante might even let him have more than half of the package.

So when he gets home to find his front door smashed open, his office trashed, and worst of all his jukebox shattered-wait no, worst of all, his nephew missing, all thoughts of pizza and cookies vanish from his mind as he rushes in, guns drawn. There’s no sign of life, but the black splatters of demonic ichor painting the walls shows that some real bad mojo went down here. The strangest thing though, is Agni, a weapon Dante was definitely sure he had under lock and key, laying there on the ground, alone.

“Alright, time to spill your guts” he yanks the blade up so that he’s at eye level with the pommel, “What the hell happened here?” Agni makes the same response as Vergil. Which means silence.

“I swear to…” he pulls out ivory, and presses the muzzle into the (more troubled than usual looking face), “You’re gonna tell me what went down, or we’re gonna see how many bullets I can jam into your ugly mug.” “You told us to remain silent.” He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, consider that rule temporarily relaxed.” “There was an attack.” Agni starts, its distorted voice unusually agitated, “The little one fought with great valour, but eventually even he was overwhelmed.” Dante’s blood goes cold. “But then a great bulk of a demon came out and slaughtered the attacking filth, and spirited the boy away, alongwith my brother.”

“Rudra’s still with Nero?” That’s odd, if they were trying to capture the kid, they’d disarm him first.

“Yes, they are not far, I think they’ve stopped moving.”

“Alright,” Dante makes his way out of the disfigured wood, “let’s go find the kid and your bro...and if he’s alright, maybe I’ll reconsider giving back your talking privileges.” “Oh, that would be wonderful, will you allow us to leave the dark box? It’s been so long since we’ve fought, we crave batt- ”

“I said IF, and I won’t guarantee anything if you keep jabbering on and on.”

Angi directs the demon hunter to a dark secluded alleyway, a few blocks from Devil May Cry. One hand on its hilt ready for attack, the other fingering the trigger of Ivory, he cautiously makes his way past the recently overturned garbage cans, to a shadow alcove, where a shadow crouches. Beside it is Rudra, glowing faintly, it’s turquoise blue light providing enough illumination for Dante to make out what has happened. There’s Nero, peacefully slumbering away, apparently unharmed, not even his shirt is torn. And holding him gently, stroking his downy white hair with a giant hand...is Vergil… And for once, even though he is still staring straight ahead, there’s a different look on his face, a sense of contentment.

Huh Dante thinks to himself as he holsters the weapons, I was right, actions DO speak louder than words.

#Devil May Cry #Nelo Dadgelo #Dante #Vergil #Nero #canon divergence #I didn't want to connect this to their post via reblog #because that should stand alone in its own perfection #my writing

63 notes · View notes

dimigex · 3 years

Text

I Won’t Lie - Kakasaku

It’s finally done!! I started this piece years ago but never finished it. It’s the follow on to my story Distraction, but you don’t have to read that to understand it at all.

Distraction, I Won’t Lie, Part One, Part Two, Epilogue

Here’s the first part, the rest is linked above and also available on FF.

"So, have you put the moves on the Hokage yet," Ino questioned, applying black eyeliner with a practiced flip of her hand. Her aqua blue eyes stood out in sharp contrast, seeming larger than they had any right to.

Sakura groaned from the bed, falling back to cover her face. "I never intended to put the moves on him," she mumbled, hoping that Ino wouldn't be able to see the crimson flush of her cheeks. "And, it didn't work anyway. Kakashi doesn't know that I exist."

Ino jerked the pillow away and leveled her best friend with a stare. "He definitely knows that you exist, but you need to remind him that you're a woman now, not a little girl." Her gaze swept over Sakura from head to toe. "Why don't you put on something a little more interesting tonight?"

"What's wrong with what I have on?" Sakura frowned at her outfit. Okay, the leggings that she wore were more comfortable than provocative, and her mother would have approved of her shirt, but that didn't mean there was anything wrong with it. She always dressed like this when they went out. It wasn't her fault that Ino had more outfits than any other girl that Sakura knew, and an uncanny way of making everything look sexy.

"Nothing," Ino answered, with a smile curving her cherry-red lips. "As long as you want to die old and alone."

Sakura threw the remaining pillow at Ino's face, narrowly missing. "Shut up, Ino-pig," she grumbled, reverting to the insult that had become a friendly nickname over the past few years. Sakura tugged at her shirt for a moment, chewing her lip "If I agree, can you make it look like I'm not trying too hard?"

A grin split Ino's face. "Of course. We have to find just the right outfit to show off that body you worked so hard for."

Before Sakura could protest, the blond pulled her off of the bed and toward the closet. Nearly an hour later, Sakura examined her expression in the mirror, shocked at the illusion that Ino had created. Long lashes framed her green eyes, making them stand out against her pale skin. The faint dusting of freckles that Sakura usually hated had taken on a soft glow from the highlighter Ino used. Glossy lips completed the expression, in a shade lighter than Sakura ever thought she could pull off. Ino hadn't stopped there. She'd transformed Sakura's hair as well. The pale tresses piled on top of her head, falling in artful curls around her face.

Ino pulled Sakura from musing about how she looked like an entirely different person by tugging on the dress. The blond dragged the black fabric to the side, baring one shoulder. It draped Sakura's body, accentuating enough to suggest that she had more curves than she really did. Chuckling, Sakura pulled the fabric toward her knees. Ino slapped her hands away. "Stop that, it's supposed to be short."

"I can't wear this," Sakura complained even as she turned to admire herself from the side. It hugged her body in a way that none of her other outfits had.

Shaking her head, Ino walked over to the closet and tossed a pair of heels to Sakura. "You can, and you will. No one will be able to keep their eyes off you, especially not Kakashi."

Color flamed in Sakura's cheek, hidden somewhat by the makeup. "What if he isn't there?"

Ino's devious grin made Sakura nervous. "Then you'll go home with someone else. You look too damn good to go home alone tonight"

-------------------------------

When Ino and Sakura swept into the pub nearly half an hour late, dozens of heads swiveled in their direction. Ino linked an arm through Sakura's and pulled her into the room before she could back away in a fit of self-consciousness. Her gaze swept over the people gathered for Naruto's birthday, trying to ignore the butterflies fluttering in her stomach. Kakashi wasn't there yet or not coming at all, everything they'd done had been a waste of time.

Forcing the hopelessness down, Sakura caught sight of an overbearing ball of sunshine cutting through the room. Naruto's grin probably had more to do with the atmosphere than alcohol, but she couldn't be sure. He threw an arm around Sakura's shoulder and pulled her into a side hug. "I was beginning to think nobody from my team was going to show up tonight."

When Naruto released Sakura, his blue eyes slipped lower than her neck. The blush on his whiskered cheeks was obvious even in the dim lighting. "You look nice tonight. I mean, not that you don't always look nice-" Sakura's laughter cut off the awkward exchange, and Naruto managed a nervous smile before rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't think Sasuke is going to make it tonight."

"Unfortunately, Sasuke's mission has him delayed outside the village." The proximity of Kakashi's voice made Sakura jump. When she turned, she realized that he stood just inside the doorway behind them. Their gazes locked, and Kakashi's eyes widened, perhaps only just now realizing that she'd been the one standing with Naruto. While pink hair was unusual in the village, a few girls had started imitating Sakura after the war. She hated it, but the element of surprise was nice.

Ino unwound her arm from Sakura's and moved away to speak to someone that Sakura didn't recognize. Completely oblivious of the tension of the moment, Naruto caught Kakashi with his other arm and pulled them both into a hug. Sakura felt the warmth of Kakashi's chest against her side. "I'm glad you two made it, at least."

Kakashi pulled away, chuckling in the back of his throat. "Of course I came, I have to keep an eye on you kids to make sure you don't get into any trouble."

"We aren't kids," Sakura grumbled, challenging Kakashi with a glare through her mascara lengthened lashes. "We're adults now."

"That's right, sensei. We don't have to listen to you anymore." Naruto laughed, giving Kakashi a cheeky grin.

Kakashi frowned, the barest movements of his mask. "I'm still Hokage, though."

"For now." Naruto's banter eased the conversation into playful jabs that allowed Sakura to stay silent. Kakashi hadn't even responded to her comment about being an adult now. Her heart sank lower in her chest.

As the men exchanged barbs, Ino reappeared from wherever she'd been. Grabbing Sakura's hand, she led them to the bar. "It's pointless," Sakura complained, leaning close so that the words would only be loud enough for Ino. "He'll always view me as a kid. I'd be better off chasing Sasuke."

"Absolutely not," Ino hissed, vehemence dripping from her voice as she raised a hand to order drinks. "Sasuke isn't even on the radar for you. Do not put yourself through that again."

Sakura nodded and toyed with the silver teardrop earring that Ino had loaned her. She knew that Sasuke was a bad idea. The boy had never acknowledged her, not really. And now, it was the same with Kakashi. At best Kakashi saw her as the child that he'd mentored years ago. At worst, the annoying girl that she'd been during those early days. She'd never change that.

"Let me tell you my secret, Forehead." Ino shoved a shot glass into Sakura's hand. "It just takes five seconds of insane courage to get whatever you want. That's it. Just five seconds of bravery, then the hard part is over. You either have the thing you want or you don't, but at least you'll know."

"Is that how you landed Sai?" Sakura asked, closing her grip around the glass of liquid courage without questioning what was inside it. The idea that Ino actually liked Sai and wanted to be with him when there were so many men that she could have had was something that Sakura had trouble wrapping her mind around.

Ino laughed and tucked a strand of hair behind one ear. "Yes, Sai. And, all the others."

Gossip suggested that Ino had worked her way through half of the eligible shinobi in the village. There was a great deal of truth to it. Ino had dated Shikamaru for a couple of weeks before the pair decided that friendship was less troublesome than a relationship. She and Kiba had been fireworks from the beginning, fighting almost constantly. Choji was too gentle, Lee too exhausting, Shino too quiet, and the list went on and on. Somehow, Ino landed on Sai and found that the man matched her surprisingly well. Sakura had already noticed the girl looking for him in the crowd.

"Drink," Ino commanded, nodding toward the alcohol. Sakura steeled her nerves and tipped the glass up. The liquid burned the entire way down, making her gasp for a breath. Ino clapped her on the back. "Good, now let's go and find someone to make him jealous over."

"Ino, no." Sakura pulled away from her best friend with a firm shake of her head. "It doesn't matter. It's just a silly crush."

The look on the blonde's face suggested that she didn't believe Sakura's excuse, but she didn't force it. Sakura let her gaze wander over the people brought together to celebrate Naruto's birthday. He had touched so many lives, and since the war, most people recognized that. Naruto had wanted to do something at Ichiraku, but the stand was too small for all their friends. They'd made arrangements for the celebration to be held here, but white bowls of ramen dotted most of the tables.

Kakashi drew Sakura's eyes like a beacon. He stood in the shadows beside Captain Yamato, heads close together as they spoke. It had surprised Sakura to learn that the men were old friends, especially since Kakashi held so many people at a distance. Sakura and Naruto had grown closer to him, of course, but there didn't seem to be many others. Tsunade and the other jonin perhaps, but the ease between Kakashi and Yamato spoke of actual friendship. Sakura felt a twinge of jealousy. Why couldn't it be that easy for her?

Ino leaned close, the scent of alcohol drifting from her lips. "You know, Yamato isn't bad looking either."

Sakura considered the words. While Yamato didn't hold the aura of mystery that Kakashi did, his easy smile and kind eyes made him attractive in his own way. Even so, no matter how much Sakura watched the pair, her eyes strayed to Kakashi. As she'd expected, he'd worn his uniform to the party. The sleeves of his black shirt were rolled up against the heat of the room, while his hands were tucked into the pockets of matching pants. Kakashi's mask remained in place, of course, but the headband that used to slant across half of his face was missing. Two charcoal eyes stared out at the room, silver hair falling into them.

"Oh, it's definitely just a little crush," Ino teased, pulling Sakura from her longing gaze. "Why don't you just go and talk to him? Ask him to dance or ask him back to your place. Just do something besides staring at him."

When Sakura started to protest, Ino rolled her eyes. "Come on, I've seen you kick ass so many times, but you're scared to talk to a boy? The worst thing he can do is turn you down. And, if that happens, it's his loss."

It isn't that easy, Sakura started to argue. Only, she knew that it was. She'd been pining after Kakashi for months, treasuring stupid, little moments that probably meant nothing: the way that his arms had curled around her on the training field, how his eyes lit up when he laughed at her joke about Tsunade trying to kill them both with reports, or the startle when her fingers had brushed his wrist. Those things made her wonder if there might be something more, but Kakashi was impossible to read. The sudden intake of breath when Sakura touched him could just have easily been discomfort as desire.

"I think I need another drink," Sakura declared, putting away the miserable thoughts for another day.

It didn't take long for the pleasant warmth of alcohol to loosen the tension that seemed permanently attached to Sakura's shoulders. She relaxed enough to dance a couple of turns with Naruto. He was far more awkward on the dance floor than any shinobi had the right to be. After two dances, Sakura begged off and pushed him toward Hinata. A few months ago, the girl had finally gotten brave enough to let Naruto know that she liked him. The pair was slowly turning into a couple, but the transition was painful to watch. They were both too shy for their own good.

Sakura stumbled back toward the bar, surprised to admit that she was having more fun than she'd thought she would, even if Kakashi ignored her. As she reached for her glass, Ino flashed a pleasant grin that warned Sakura that the girl was coming up with a plan that Sakura wasn't going to like. Without explaining anything, Ino linked their arms and dragged Sakura back into the crowd. Three steps into the walk, once she realized where they were going, Sakura tried to stop the inevitable. But, it was too late. Ino stopped beside Kakashi and Yamato.

The men looked up in surprise, their conversation stopping abruptly. Sakura felt Kakashi's gaze on her face for several heartbeats before it slid toward Ino's. With another signature grin, the blond moved into Yamato's personal space. "You sent my boyfriend on a mission just before the party, and now I have nobody to dance with. It seems only fair that you take his place." Ino held out a hand expectantly.

"Um-I-uh-it was unavoidable," Yamato stammered, a delicate pink blush tinting his cheeks. Sakura almost rolled her eyes. It was pathetic to watch how easily Ino turned him, or any man for that matter, into a stuttering mess simply by batting her eyelashes. She'd thought Yamato was better than that.

To Sakura's surprise, it was Kakashi who spoke next. "I think she has a solid case." Yamato gaped at the man, but Kakashi continued as if he hadn't seen it. "You deprived her of enjoying the evening; you should make up for it. Within reason, of course."

As the implication hit home, the pink on Yamato's cheeks deepened to crimson. Sakura struggled not to laugh at his expression. Ino cleared her throat, moving her hand closer. For a moment, Sakura wondered if Kakashi was going to have to push the man forward. Finally, Yamato dipped his head and took Ino's hand. Sakura couldn't stop her mirth as the pair disappeared onto the dance floor. "He's going to be furious with you later, you know that right?"

"It's good for him. Yamato is too shy." Kakashi leaned his shoulders against the wall, and for a moment Sakura couldn't take her eyes off of the smooth stretch of his body and the way his armor shifted with the movement. Half a second later, she realized that he'd said something. Deciding that it probably wasn't important, she nodded and he continued. "Of course, she doesn't mean anything by it, does she?"

Sakura shook her head, watching as Ino attempted to guide Yamato's hands toward her hips as she moved to the music. He kept moving them back to her waist, embarrassment obvious. Sakura chuckled under her breath. "No, she's quite taken with Sai actually."

"Our Sai?" Kakashi asked, eyebrows rising in surprise.

Sakura nodded, watching as Yamato finally relaxed into the dance and loosened up a bit. "She and Sai balance each other well, like Naruto and Hinata."

Kakashi followed Sakura's gaze toward the bar where Naruto and Hinata were talking. The blond leaned against the edge, telling some kind of story while the girl gazed up adoringly. Two years ago, she'd been too frightened and embarrassed to speak with him, and Naruto too stupid to realize why. With a little gentle prodding, they'd finally caught on.

Kakashi made a sound that might have been agreement in the back of his throat. "You're all pairing off these days, falling in love and getting married."

"Not all of us," Sakura grumbled. Frustration bled into her voice as she continued. "Some of us accepted the weight of duty instead."

A silver eyebrow arched skyward as Kakashi turned to face Sakura. A look of understanding crossed his features, but Sakura doubted that he realized she was talking about him as well. Undeniably handsome, Kakashi could have his pick of women in the village, but he remained alone. He had thrown himself into the role of hokage, even though he hated it. Sakura had done the same at the hospital, though she enjoyed her work for the most part. The two of them weren't as different as he seemed to think.

A stir went through the room. Naruto pushed away from the bar, his voice cutting through the din of music and conversation. "You made it!'

As much as Sakura wanted to continue admiring Kakashi, her attention drifted toward Naruto. He stood in the doorway, arms thrown around-Sakura's mind temporarily shorted out, taking several seconds to catch up with her eyes. Sasuke stood in the spill of light, Naruto's arms wrapped around his shoulders. Raven dark hair and equally black eyes swept through the crowd, taking in everyone and everything. His gaze slid over Sakura, then returned and lingered.

Despite everything, Sakura blushed under Sasuke's gaze. Beside her, Kakashi shifted away from the wall. A hand pressed almost imperceptibly against Sakura's lower back as Naruto approached, Sasuke trailing behind like a shadow. Sakura half turned toward Kakashi.

Naruto interrupted the pair before Sakura could get her thoughts in order. "Look guys, Sasuke made it back in time."

"So, he did," Kakashi answered for both of them, voice cool but not quite unfriendly. "Welcome back."

Sasuke turned, oozing arrogance as he inclined his head toward Kakashi. Dark eyes roved over Sakura a second time, an almost smile curling his lips. Even so, Sakura read the tension in his shoulders. Despite the years that had passed, Sasuke remained something of a pariah in the village. There were some groups who would never forgive or forget the time that he had spent trying to destroy the Leaf, despite Naruto's efforts to change their opinions. Sakura knew that Kakashi had helped save Sasuke from execution or life in prison, but the Hokage's intervention had ended there.

"Sasuke!" Ino appeared from nowhere, throwing her arms around Sasuke in a hug that the man shrunk away from. "Welcome back."

Sakura flashed her friend a thankful smile at the interruption. "You're looking well," Ino continued, pulling all of Sasuke's attention to herself by keeping her hands on his upper arms. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"Maybe later," Sasuke answered, voice sounding strained as he shrugged away from Ino's touch. When she released him, the man turned and smiled. "Hello, Sakura."

Sakura couldn't remember how to draw a breath. A thick strand of black fell across Sasuke's eye, adding an air of mystery to his already captivating appearance. Warmth suffused her face when he moved closer, near enough to reach out and brush her cheek if he'd wanted. "Hi," she answered, toying with a silver bracelet circling one wrist.

Sasuke slid between Sakura and Kakashi, angling his body to face hers. "How have you been?"

"I've been doing well." Sakura's answer barely scratched the surface of everything that had happened in her life since the last time she saw Sasuke. She couldn't seem to remember a single event that she wanted to talk about. Yamato approached the small group and squeezed in beside Kakashi while running an appraising eye over Sasuke. He didn't acknowledge the Uchiha's presence. Instead, he leaned closer to Kakashi and whispered something in his ear.

Pulling her attention away from the exchange, Sakura realized that she'd been asked something. It would be rude not to keep talking to Sasuke, so she smiled. "How about you? How have you been?"

"I stay busy following up on leads," Sasuke answered, revealing nothing about his time outside of the village. Maybe he thought that Sakura wouldn't accept his reasons for leaving her behind, or maybe, he didn't care if she did.

After all, how could Sakura expect Sasuke to understand the hours of work that she poured into the hospital, sometimes losing a patient despite her best efforts? Would he care that she pushed herself in training as hard as she's ever done in case they went back to war? Sakura imagined Sasuke teasing her efforts to create orphanages in Konoha. Would he understand Sakura's version of sacrifice when it didn't align with his?

Sakura's eyes drifted back to her group of friends. Naruto stood beside Ino with a silly grin on his face, undoubtedly because Sakura and Sasuke were talking together. He still believed the two of them could make it work somehow. Yamato and Kakashi watched them both without seeming to do so. Sakura couldn't help but wonder if they deemed Sasuke as a security risk, even after all this time. Her gaze settled on the tension in Kakashi's jaw, wondering why he seemed on edge.

Kakashi understood the passion that drove Sakura to fight for those causes. Or, if not, he humored her. Sakura and Kakashi had worked hand in hand to train additional medical shinobi, create orphanages, and work through various issues at the hospital. She'd assumed that Kakashi wanted to see the same outcome that she did. Would Sasuke want that? Did it matter? He wouldn't be in the village long enough for it to make any difference.

Despite the way that things between them had changed, Sasuke still reduced Sakura to a lovesick teenager. It wasn't that her feelings had stayed the same, but Sakura had spent half of her life chasing after Sasuke. She couldn't shake the memory of nipping at his heels, of being willing to throw everything away if he'd only acknowledge her. As Sasuke spoke, Sakura's mind responded on autopilot, answering with soft laughs and smiles.

After several minutes, Ino caught Sakura's attention and half nodded toward Kakashi. He and Yamato had fallen silent, allowing the conversation to flow around them without interruption. Sakura raised her shoulders in a helpless shrug, silently asking what she was supposed to do about the situation. Ino frowned, then leaned in to speak. "So, Sasuke, did you know that Naruto and Hinata are dating?"

The question cut off the conversation. Surprise flitted across Sasuke's face as he looked over at Naruto. The blond's cheeks flamed crimson and he sputtered over his words "Well, Ino is dating Sai," he managed, red from his hairline to his chin.

Ino grinned, tossing her long hair over one shoulder with an air of dismissal. "You say that like it's a bad thing. Sai happens to be far more interesting than you'd anticipate. Not to mention adventurous."

The suggestive nature of Ino's comment made Naruto choke on his breath. His eyes bulged and Sakura couldn't help but laugh; he was still so innocent. Naruto grabbed Sasuke's arm. "Come on, it's definitely time for a drink."

Without waiting for an answer, Naruto pulled the Uchiha toward the barkeeper and further away from Ino's insinuations. Laughing, the girl watched them go. Then, she turned back to Yamato. "I thought you were going to dance with me? And, you," Ino studied Kakashi, "should dance with Sakura so she isn't left alone over here."

For all the nudging that Kakashi had done when Ino asked Yamato to dance, the man seemed less than enthused about taking his own advice. "It isn't befitting of the Hokage to indulge in-"

"Oh no you don't, senpai," Yamato interrupted, already pulling Kakashi away from the wall. "I did my duty, and now it's time for you to do yours. Off you go."

Yamato's brown eyes shone with an inordinate amount of amusement, and Sakura didn't know whether to be thankful that he was pushing Kakashi toward the dance floor, or embarrassed at being some type of twisted payback. Either way, the indecision lasted only a moment. Ino grabbed Yamato's hand and guided him toward the dancers, leaving Sakura alone with Kakashi on the edge of the room.

Kakashi rubbed the back of his neck as he turned to face Sakura. Embarrassment raised the temperature of the room several degrees until it felt impossible to draw a breath. "You don't have to dance with me," she murmured, trying not to sound as disappointed as she felt.

"Ino and Yamato would never let me hear the end of it if we didn't." Kakashi held out one hand, and Sakura slid hers into it. Her pulse pounded in her ears when he leaned closer. "Besides, we only have to dance long enough to get them off our backs."

Sakura didn't trust her voice to speak without breaking, so she nodded and followed Kakashi onto the dance floor. Music blared over the speakers, bass line making her heart pound in tempo. She drew a deep breath and looked into the eyes that had been hidden for so long. Even now, months later, Sakura hadn't gotten used to seeing more of Kakashi's face. She remembered the intensity of his gaze on the training field and the way that she'd wanted to pull him close and lose themselves in the storm.

Just five seconds of insane courage, Ino's voice whispered in the back of Sakura's mind. She could press her body against Kakashi's under the guise of dancing and admit that she wanted more than that. Butterflies the size of elephants trampled over Sakura's chest. If Kakashi rejected her, it would hurt, but she could mask the pain long enough to make it home. Then, she'd be free to deal with fallout. She had done the same thing over Sasuke nearly a year ago. But, if Sakura never took a chance and told Kakashi, she'd never know if there could have been anything between them.

Kakashi spoke, interrupting Sakura's momentum. "You look different tonight."

"Ino begged me to let her try something special for Naruto's party." Sakura chewed her lip, wondering if the words were technically a lie. She wanted to look more enticing as well, more like Ino and less like herself, in hopes that she'd capture Kakashi's attention.

The tempo of the music increased; Sakura allowed her body to follow. She felt the hem of her dress riding up her thigh and tugged it down with one hand. Kakashi followed the movement then snapped his eyes back to her face. He asked something, but the words were lost in the din of the crowd. When Sakura scrunched up her face in confusion, he leaned closer. "For Sasuke?"

For you, Sakura thought, holding the words tight between her lips. The accusation in Kakashi's tone surprised her. "I didn't know he'd be here."

Kakashi inclined his head at the words, expression unreadable. He rested his hands at Sakura's waist without a hint of familiarity or desire. Kakashi moved to the music, half a foot between their bodies. Sakura flashed back to the way his arms had wrapped around her like a glove on the training field. He moved on protective instinct, not to get close to me. The realization left a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Sakura surrendered to the rhythm of the music, turning to present her back to Kakashi's chest so she wouldn't have to meet his gaze. She closed her eyes, willing the ache in her heart to stop. This entire situation was so stupid. Ino was right about everything; Sakura needed to tell Kakashi how she felt so that she could pick up the pieces and move on. She had done it before, and she could do it again.

Fingers curled against Sakura's hips, the thin fabric of her dress hardly masking the feel of Kakashi's touch. Sakura wasn't sure if he pulled her back, or if she moved of her own accord, but she felt the warmth of his breath against her neck. She focused on the sensation, electricity rushing through her body. His damn flak vest separated Sakura from the heat of his chest, but she imagined that she could feel it anyway.

The song ended and the weight of Kakashi's hands fell away as if it had never been. Light pulsed around them as another song started. Sakura turned back to face Kakashi, drawing a shaky breath. "Do you think that dance met their requirements, or should we do another, just to be sure?"

Sakura's name left Kakashi's lips in a strangled sound. Whatever he'd been planning to say was lost when someone bumped hard into his back. He stumbled through the almost nonexistent space between them. Sakura heard an apology, but she couldn't match the voice to a face before her arms were full of Kakashi. She stumbled backward under his weight, tripped over her heels, and then they were falling. Vaguely, some panicked part of Sakura's mind wondered if she was about to give everyone in the room a free peep show.

Kakashi twisted in the air so that Sakura wouldn't be crushed beneath him. His left shoulder absorbed most of the impact half a second before she hit his chest. The air whooshed out of Kakashi's lungs in a soft hiss as their bodies pressed together. Exposure forgotten, Sakura felt his hands grip her, one near her shoulder and the other dangerously low on her back. They were close enough for their noses to brush, Kakashi's eyes wide. The charcoal tone wasn't as dark as Sakura had anticipated, but shot with silver through the iris. She noticed the outline of Kakashi's lips beneath his mask. Kami, it would be so simple to—

"Hokage-sama?" Genma's familiar voice cut across Sakura's thoughts. The man pushed through the crowd to reach Kakashi's side, undoubtedly on guard duty for the night. Sakura raised her head to glare at his poorly conceived timing.

Kakashi released Sakura like he'd been burned, hands coming to the floor instead as he pushed into a sitting position. She half fell into his lap from the sudden change of position. "I'm fine," he answered the unasked question. "I'm hardly old enough to get injured from falling down."

"Especially beneath a beautiful woman," Genma quipped, flashing his senbon-studded grin. Then, his leer slid toward the woman in question and his expression changed to something contemplative as he offered a hand. "Oh, hey, Sakura."

Sakura had no choice but to accept Genma's offered hand. Cheeks flushed with embarrassment, she let the tokujo pull her away from Kakashi. Belatedly, she remembered to adjust the slinky dress lower on her thighs and higher over her chest. Hopefully everything had happened so quickly that she didn't have any reason to be embarrassed. A small crowd gathered around them. Kakashi pushed through them as the music started back up; Sakura followed him to the edge of the room.

"You aren't hurt are you, Hokage-sama," Ino gushed as she hurried to the pair's side. Her brow creased with worry when Kakashi tried to wave her off. Sakura barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes at her best friend. The ploy was obvious.

"I'm fine," Kakashi grumbled, looking distinctively embarrassed by the attention. "I'm not made of glass."

"Still," Ino pressed, reaching out like she might touch Kakashi's arm. "You hit your shoulder hard when you fell. I saw it."

Sakura could see the wheels turning in Ino's mind. No, please, Ino, don't do this. Sakura's silent plea fell on deaf ears. Kakashi raised his arm to prove that he could, but Ino didn't drop the subject. "You should let Sakura take a look at it, just to make sure. I'm sure she wouldn't mind."

And, there it is, Sakura grumbled internally. Annoyance bled through Kakashi's embarrassment as he tried to wave the blonde's concerns away. Sakura interrupted the exchange before it could get out of hand. "Doesn't anyone care about me? I fell too."

"I could take a look at you," Genma offered with a cheeky grin from his position at Kakashi's shoulder. "In fact, it'd be my pleasure."

"No," Sakura and Kakashi answered in the same breath, dragging a knowing laugh from Genma. Kakashi looked almost as surprised as Sakura felt. Cheeks warming at the insinuation, she continued. "I don't need anyone to look at me, I am fine. But, shouldn't you be more worried about me?"

Genma chuckled in the back of his throat. "Because you're such a delicate little flower? I saw the damage you did to the training grounds the other night. I think I'd rather take my chances with Kakashi, to be honest."

"Probably for the best; she's stronger than you think." Sakura's stomach clenched at the unexpected praise from Sasuke. She hadn't noticed that he and Naruto had rejoined them in the chaos.

"Damn right she is," Ino answered, fighting to keep the attention on anything but Sasuke. Her eyes met Sakura's with silent pleading. While Sakura knew what Ino wanted, some things were easier said than done. Sasuke watched them with a smug satisfaction on his face that Sakura couldn't begin to understand as Ino continued. "What will Tsunade say if you leave Hokage-sama injured until tomorrow?"

Kakashi shook his head as Sakura groaned under her breath. She loved Ino, but sometimes the woman went a little overboard with her matchmaking. "Tsunade would say that it's nothing, and no more than I deserve if I can't keep my feet under me. But, if it'll put your mind at ease, I'll get it checked out."

"It would," Ino breathed out, her concern almost palpable. Sakura wondered why the woman didn't become an actress; she certainly had a knack for it. Ino pulled her forward. "There's no time like the present."

Kakashi cast a withering glance at Ino, then faced Sakura. For a moment, the rest of the room disappeared. Even the overwhelming presence of Sasuke shrank to insignificance. The sheepishness that Sakura had noticed earlier had evaporated, replaced by something darker in Kakashi's gaze. Though Sakura couldn't put her finger on it, the expression made chill bumps erupt on her arms. "Would you mind?"

It wasn't the first time that Sakura had healed Kakashi, not by a long shot. But, it was the first time that he'd asked. Sakura's heart did somersaults in her chest. "I don't mind," she breathed, forcing strength into her words. "But, not here. I need somewhere quieter, with better light."

Kakashi inclined his head as if the words made perfect sense. Naruto groaned, his voice turning whiny. "You're going to miss my party? This is the first time we've all been together in years."

"We won't be gone long," Kakashi assured the boy. "Just long enough to satisfy Sakura."

Ino choked on her laugh, eyes shining. Sakura's cheeks flamed crimson at the insinuation. Kakashi either didn't notice or didn't want to draw attention to it. He nodded toward the door. "Come on, let's get this over with, shall we?"

--------------------------

As she and Kakashi emerged from the pub, Sakura drew a breath of the chilly air. Naruto had been the only one to raise an objection to them leaving the party together, but Sakura felt the heat from a dozen gazes as they crossed the room. When they stepped into the street, Sakura's hand slipped out of Kakashi's, and neither made a move to retake it. He stared at the darkness, the stars above, and the benches by the door as they stood under the hazy light of the neon sign.

"I'm sorry that this took you away from the party," Kakashi began with a sigh. When his gaze turned to Sakura, it swept over her body in a way that suggested that he hadn't missed the tiniest facet of Ino's hard work. "You clearly wanted to be there."

"I can always go back later," Sakura answered, knowing that she wouldn't. She didn't want to face Sasuke or Ino after leaving with Kakashi, regardless of what happened next. Kakashi's shoulders seemed to tense at the response, but Sakura wasn't sure if it was her imagination or not. Undeniable nervousness settled in her gut.

Kakashi rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. "You don't really need to look at my shoulder. It's fine, but I needed an excuse to get out of there."

"I know," Sakura agreed. She would have realized if Kakashi was hurt, probably before he did. "But, I gave my word, so we should at least check it."

"Do you want to go to the hospital?" Kakashi moved down the street as he asked the question, forcing Sakura to follow on his heels. He didn't turn back when he continued. "Or, would my apartment be okay? It's closer."

Sakura's breath caught in her throat. She knew where Kakashi's apartment was, of course, but she'd never set foot inside of it. That he'd allow her into his world, even for a moment, stunned her. He continued walking, shoulders tight and hands stuffed into his pockets as he waited for an answer. "Your apartment is fine."

The silence gave Sakura unwanted time to think back over the night's events. She had seen appreciation in more than a few eyes when they noticed the changes that Ino had made, but she couldn't be sure that any of it had registered with Kakashi. He'd said she looked different, not better, not beautiful, just different. That word could mean a million things, or nothing at all. Ino was right though, if Sakura couldn't have Kakashi, she could always go home with someone else. Hell, even Sasuke had noticed and appreciated the extra effort in her appearance. There was only one problem, Sakura didn't want to go home with anyone else.

Sakura nearly walked into Kakashi's back when he stopped in front of her and nodded toward the steps leading up to his apartment. Though she knew it was entirely platonic, Sakura's heart pounded in her throat as she followed him higher. Kakashi unlocked the door, flicked the lights on, and pushed it wider. Sakura slid under his arm and into the room, taking in a million details at once.

Kakashi closed the door behind them and bent to remove his sandals. Sakura admired the smooth stretch of his body for a heartbeat longer than she should have. Tearing her eyes away, she rested one hand on the wall and bent down to unbuckle her heels. It felt good to be out of them, if it was only going to be for a few minutes.

"Does your shoulder hurt at all? They're notoriously fragile as far as joints go." When Kakashi didn't speak, Sakura opened her mouth to repeat the question, then had another idea. Five seconds of insane courage. She took two steps forward and reached for Kakashi's arm, the healing glow surrounding her hands.

When Sakura touched his shoulder, Kakashi startled and jerked away. 'I'm fine," he ground out. "You don't have to—"

"Your heart is pounding," Sakura responded in awe, letting her fingers fall away from his arm. The touch had been brief, but the spike in Kakashi's pulse was obvious.

Kakashi forced a harsh breath through his nose. "You're supposed to be checking my shoulder, not my heart."

Five seconds of insane courage. "Your shoulder," Sakura repeated, trying to think over the blood roaring in her ears. Just five seconds. She reached for the straps of Kakashi's flak vest.

#My writing #Dimi Writes #Naruto #KakaSaku #Kakashi Hatake #Sakura Haruno #Mutual Pining #Don't read this at work #Smut #and fluff #There's a lot of fluff

53 notes · View notes

borealis-strange · 3 years

Text

Chapter 6 “The witch market”

Link

Summary:

Franco and Regina finally arrive in the glorious Palladium city, also known as the "Phoenix city" for being reborn from the ashes.

They explore the entire city, seeing everything new it has to offer. The new buildings and the witch market.

After a long day of walking, Franco meets an old friend...

Notes:

I'm thinking of doing some drawings and add them to the story. What do you guys think?

Tag-list: @freesiafields @bambirexwrites @whitequeen-ofwillowgreen @vaeya @sirenlovesqueen @moreofthatqueen @eileen-crys

If someone wants to be added or removed from the tag-list, just tell me :}

We decided to leave Gold Pine right after breakfast, rather, Franco decided that. He said something about him wanting to spend more time at Paladium. I didn't blame him, he surely wanted to see how much the city had changed since his departure.

We went to the big red brick station. The place was packed with people, which surprised me. I understood that this station was only about 15 years old, plus it only had trains that led to Paladium. In a way, it reminded me of the entrance to The Shelter, mostly because of the busy people who kept pushing you.

We bought the cheapest ticket we could get, which was only a few copper coins, and we set off on our journey.

The train turned out better than I expected; even though the seats were so close to each other that they stifled a bit, but that was the least of it. At least we had managed to sit together.

The train ride was uneventful, without much to see.

I hadn't been on a train in years, four to be exact, and that's when I left The Shelter. I was only 14 years old and I remember how scared I was traveling all over the Empire on my own. How small and lost I was not knowing where to go. Now all that has changed, I am very grateful that I now had Franco to accompany me.

I turned to see him. His gaze was still lost in the window and I could see how Franco's hands were trembling slightly.

— All good? — Asked.

Franco turned to see me with some nervousness and took his hands to control them.

— Yes… all good — Was the only thing he said before looking out the window again.

__________________

After just over two hours of travel, we finally reached the huge and glorious Palladium city. I had heard some calling it Phoenix City for having survived its destruction and rising from the ashes.

We crossed the city on the train and I was amazed by its large stone buildings where pointed arches were used, roofs with steep slopes and elegant carvings such as lace and latticework. Even though there were still several buildings under construction, the city looked fantastic. ///

I watched as the buildings stopped going by so fast as the train slowed down little by little. Finally it stopped completely. We grab our things before getting off next to the sea of people.

The station was packed with people, which surprised me even more. There were still not too many roads, that I know you could only go to Gold Pine and the Tree city, but maybe they had already built more railways.

We made our way through the people as best we could, until we found the exit.

Right at the exit was a statue of a Netherite knight, as if he was protecting everyone who came to the city. I could see that it had a few flowers at the base. Franco approached the statue and looked at it for a moment before continuing on his way.

As I left the station, the sun dazzled me slightly, presenting the great city to me. Franco stayed a few seconds admiring the city and I did the same. It was simply beautiful, like none I had ever seen before.

I turned to see Franco for a second, he had crystalline eyes, it seemed that he was going to cry at any moment.

— Are you alright — I asked

— Yes ... it's just that ... the last time I saw the Paladium city was when it was destroyed —Franco replied in a whisper — I never believed they were going to rebuild it as beautiful as it once was —

— Was Paladium the same as now? — I asked.

— No… it's quite different… actually — Franco replied, as if he still couldn't believe we were here. — It's ... much better ... than I expected —

I smiled a little. I couldn't imagine how many thoughts should be going through his head, the only thing I could decipher was some relief. Franco started walking and I followed him.

— And where do you want to go? — Asked.

— I don't know — Franco confessed as he shrugged. — Somewhere ... would be fine —

This… would be interesting. Neither of us had come to the new city. Franco could guide us a bit but who knows how much the city has changed in 30 years.

The first thing we did was look for a hostel to stay in. To be able to leave the backpacks and not have to carry them around the city.

After doing that, Franco guided me through different streets of the city showing me different places, or rather where they were thirty years ago. He showed me where the old knight academy should be, where he did much of his training. He told me that there came knights from all over the Empire since it was the best Academy. It was unfortunate that they did not rebuild it. We couldn't figure out what they were doing now in that place

He also took me where the old castle of the King of Farfania was, now they seemed to be building a great cathedral. Franco told me that he served his former queen for a time. He said that the castle was a beautiful and elegant place, where he had met some of his friends.

Franco showed me an old theater, which according to him had been rebuilt as it was. I had never been a big fan of the theater, and Franco apparently neither, but even so he remembered a few plays. Franco confessed that he came to come a couple of times for a girl that he liked. He couldn't tell me what happened to that relationship.

We come to an area with different houses. Franco told me that this is the street where he grew up. He told me how he used to be a bit of a messy and rebellious kid, who used to get in trouble with everyone. Until, he decided to join the royal guard when he was only 16 years old. He said it was difficult, that no one had confidence in him but he still managed to have great rank and recognition.

We ended up arriving at a large park, full of large trees and people walking and playing. Most striking was the large statue of a Netherite knight in the center.

Franco walked automatically to the large statue, and I followed him.

It was at least 10 meters tall, made of iron that had deteriorated over time. The knight had a heroic pose, raising his sword into the air. The base was made of marble and had a plaque with a dedication. I leaned a little closer to see what it was saying.

“To the 19 Netherite knights who sacrificed their lives for others. We will never forget such a heroic act. Rest in peace and may glory always be with you "

Below were the 19 names, of which I did not recognize any.

—The Netherite knights — I said in a whisper.

Franco came silently to my side and began to analyze the names. I felt like my heart skipped a beat, he had met each one of them.

— One is missing — I heard Franco say, I assumed he said it to himself because of the low voice that he said.

— The King of Farfania — I completed

Franco seemed to laugh when I said that.

— Yes — He said sadly — He used to have a statue, right in this place. He destroyed it himself —

— Why? — I asked as if Franco had the answer.

— He said that statue did not represent him and that they would make a real one when he saved the Empire — Franco said in a low voice.

— He was really crazy — I commented.

Franco looked at me with sad eyes before looking back from him to the statue.

We stayed a few more minutes appreciating the great stature. Franco moved a little closer to the plate and seemed to say a few words. Maybe some prayer or thanks for the fallen knights or… apologize for not being able to save them.

I don't know if I should tell them something, it would be rude of me not to.

“Thank you for his heroic act. For having saved thousands of people and giving people hope" I said while touching the plate. I wish I had flowers to leave them.

When Franco finished, he gestured to me that it was time to go.

We continued walking in the big city but this time Franco did not tell me about the old buildings or their history. He just walked around like I wasn't with him. Although, this time it seemed that Franco knew where he wanted to go. I ran a little to catch up

— And where will we go? — I asked excitedly when I got to his side.

— Now that I think about it ... I would like to see if The Witch Market still exists — Franco replied with a small smile.

— The what? — I asked.

— Don't tell me you haven’t heard about it! The best market of all, where there are only things of the best quality — Franco said proudly.

I couldn't help but laugh a little at Franco's excitement. To be honest, he had never seen him like this.

____________________

We didn't have to walk too far to get to the market,

The market was inside a one-story tall building. It had a large entrance with doors made of metal. On the sides were large colorful stained glass windows. The crystals were not only the windows but also represented figures of different creatures, day and night, in addition to various plants, more than just windows, they seemed a work of art

Franco stopped for a moment before entering the market and I appreciated it for a moment.

— It seemed that this if they wanted to leave - Franco said with a big smile.

— Are we coming to buy something in particular? — Asked.

— To get you a shield — Franco replied happily — You've been without one for too long. —

— Pfff — I exclaimed with a gesture with my hands — Why do I need a shield? I know how to fight — I said nonchalantly.

— You may know how to fight but you do not know how to defend yourself. This is the new part of your training: coordinating between defense and attack. And it is more difficult than it sounds. Believe me — Franco explained with a smile.

How difficult could it be? I defend myself with one arm and attack with the other. And voila, I know how to defend myself.

— Why don't you explore a bit? — Franco told me. — We still need food, plus you will surely find something you like. See you at the entrance in an hour —

Franco patted me on the back before losing himself in the crowd. The atmosphere was energetic inside the market, with all the people mobilizing and the vendors shouting.

I entered with some nervousness, to tell the truth, I had never been to a market, mostly because my uncle would not let me leave the castle. I couldn't be nervous, I had defeated a golem! This should be easier.

Even though the market was not as crowded as I expected, I still had to dodge people, mostly those who were watching the stalls.

All the stalls were quite different from each other, apart from selling food, they also sold clothes, books, plants, anything you could imagine, you could get it here.

I went over to one of the candy stalls, where everything smelled delicious. It sold everything, caramel cookies, milk balls, golden licorice and more sweets that I could not decipher what they were, I suppose they were traditional from other species.

Then I went to a goblin's stand, where he had all kinds of plants, both decorative and for making potions. It was also filled with flowers of all colors and sizes, all of which gave off a sweet scent. There were even plants that I had never seen, like some kind of algae but in different colors and seemed to move slightly. The seller explained to me that he had obtained it from the depths of The coast of Silence and he explained that some people used it as a method of transportation, he did not want to give me a demonstration because of how dangerous the plant could be.

I saw a stall where they sold clothes, which took me by surprise but I still decided to go closer. They sold clothes made of different types of fabric that did not fit well together, but had a certain charm. They were mostly dresses.

There was a stall where a wizard sold wands. I would have tried them if it hadn't been that I had no magic. The wizard told me that he carved the wands himself, taking care of every detail. They were really pretty, plus apparently they all had a unique engraving.

I approached another of the stalls. One where they sold fresh fruit of all kinds; apples, watermelons, pears, plums, peaches, everything. They looked pretty good, unlike the other stalls.

— Wow — exclaimed the woman who attended the stall — I haven't seen enchanted armor in years. Why do you need armor like that? —

— Oh. It is for when I enter the Royal Guard — I said with pride.

— The royal guard? — Said the surprised woman. — That thing dissolved years ago—

That was not true! I think… Franco used to tell me how he did his service in Tree City and Paladium, and that it was usual for knights to be in big cities but… so far he hadn't seen any.

— Dissolved? — I asked confused.

— Why do you think there are no longer knights in the cities? Well… it was not completely dissolved, the few remaining knights do their service on the walls. It is rare to see someone doing his service in cities or towns — The woman said while she attended to another person.

— Why did it dissolve? — I asked.

— Have you lived under a stone all this time? — Said the woman contemptuously — The fall of Farfania! Unfortunately, several knights died to protect civilians. Especially the Netherite knights, the poor people went to face the king of Farfania alone and well ... you can imagine what happened. Some say that the Netherite knight killed the others because he wanted to be the only one “worthy” of that rank —

That was… much worse than I had imagined.

— After that a huge collective fear arose. — The woman continued — During the following years people lived scared that the king of Farfania would return, so many people decided to retire from the royal guard, although it seems that it is already recovering. Also ... come closer girl — she indicated — There are rumors that the Netherite Knight has returned — she said in a low voice just for me to hear her.

— Seriously? — I was puzzled. That was impossible but… just like my uncle had said, they left him alive.

— Like I said girl, they are just rumors. There have been several robberies of powerful objects throughout the empire and since the kings have not said anything about it, people create their own theories —

— What… things have they stolen? — I asked.

— Everything, books, armor, a lot of building materials, red stone, there are even people who say they have kidnapped fairies. Total chaos —

My mind returned when we went to the Poppy Garden. The fairies had mentioned a wither skeleton. Was he ... the Netherite knight?

— And how are people so sure that he is the Netherite knight? —

— It's hard to forget those white eyes and shadowy appearance — The woman replied.

It was the Wither skeleton. Or at least someone who could easily be mistaken for the knight. Oh Gods, I had messed with some copycat! I hoped that the fairies and Vandal had nothing to do with the knight, but something in me told me that this was not true.

— Are you going to buy fruit or not? — 0The woman took me out of my thoughts.

At the end I brought a few apples and peaches, before I left, not without earning the dissatisfied look of another customer.

I left the market thinking about what the woman had told me. They were just rumors but the rumors have some truth. And if wither skeleton wasn't the Netherite knight, he must be some madman who wanted to replicate his footsteps. The truth did not know which was worse. I should tell Franco about this, mostly because of Vandal. The boy must have something on his hands but Franco had told me to leave him alone. I had to find some way to convince him to seek out and confront Vandal.

After a few minutes, Franco arrived, carrying a gleaming shield.

— I found this and at a very good price — Franco said with emotion — Wouldn't you like to try it? —

I left my worries behind and agreed.

__________________

Franco ended up guiding me back to the knight's park. I didn't know if it was such a good idea to practice there, but when I saw that it was now practically empty, I ended up accepting.

We looked for a space where there were not too many trees and I started with a little warm-up.

Franco sat on one of the benches with some difficulty and from there he began to give me instructions.

I tried my best to imitate everything he said to me. I knew the terms and positions perfectly, but apparently Franco did not find it appropriate.

— You're not doing it right! — Franco yelled at me. I stopped immediately to turn to see him — Your posture is not adequate —

— It would be easier if I didn't have imaginary enemies — I reproached him.

— Do you want real enemies? — Franco said as he got up from the bench with difficulty — I will be your opponent -

Franco stood in front of me, and looked at me challengingly and with a smug smile.

— Seriously? I thought you couldn't fight — I said amused.

— Of course I can! —Franco exclaimed — I'm a little rusty but it won't be a problem against a rookie —

— Okay — I said between a laugh — But you don't even have a sword —

— I suppose that with my cane it will be enough — Franco said with a smile — It will only be to explain the fundamentals and that you understand better. No need to get aggressive —

I had to suppress a laugh.

—We'll start slow — Franco said as he got into position to start. I imitated him.

Franco told me to follow his movements like a mirror; Franco did them slowly and calmly. Most of the exercises were straightforward, as Franco said it was mostly for coordination. Franco told me that later he would teach me more complicated things but that this was a good start.

I was surprised by how easily Franco managed to move. The only thing was that he seemed not to want to put much support on his left foot.

I don't know how long we were training. Although I would have liked a "real fight", it would be interesting, especially with Franco. I had to be patient, I suppose there will be a chance at another time.

— With that you will have enough for today — Franco told me as he gave me a small bow.

I returned the bow and put my sword away.

— And how did I do it? — I asked excitedly.

— Good — Franco said with a small smile — You are doing quite well — He said, giving me a few pats on the back.

______________

After a long day of walking around the city, all Franco wanted to do was rest. His leg was killing him with pain, he hoped that the next day the pain would subside, he didn't want to have to tell Regina that they couldn't travel. Although it wouldn't be so bad now that he thought about it, he could explore other areas of the city that they hadn't visited that day.

He sat on his bed, ready to go to sleep, when a strange breeze filled the room. Franco managed to see a shadow crawl across the ground to form a peculiar figure.

— You are very difficult to find, you know? — Said a voice behind him.— And I have to say ... The years have not been good to you —

That voice, that voice so deep it could make anyone's hair stand on end. That voice, that belonged to a Wither skeleton.

— What do you want!? — Franco yelled, turning behind him.

Rich was still the same as thirty years ago. The same white eyes, the same red coat, and the same gloomy appearance. Although he had to say that he looked too…. worn out somehow.

The skeleton put a finger over his mouth.

— If I were you, I would not speak so loud — Rich spoke calmly. — We don't want to wake people up —

Franco looked at him suspiciously.

— What do you want? — Franco repeated in a low voice.

— I can't visit an old friend? — Said the skeleton mockingly as he began to walk around the room — Being in these directions I remembered the old days. You remember that day? The last time we saw each other. —

— Of course I remember — Franco lamented.

The skeleton approached the window and slightly opened the curtain. He observed all the people passing by on the street, no one noticed his presence. After a few seconds, the skeleton spoke again.

— They kings rebuilt a part of the Empire, when will they do the same with the rest? — He commented without turning to see Franco

— They won't unless…— Franco broke off quickly.

— Unless, we destroy the Empire. Franco, you are finally understanding what I came for — Said the skeleton with a malicious smile and finally looking back at Franco.

— I will not return to that cause! — Franco yelled furious as he got up from the bed.

— Why? If you let me into the Empire in the first place. — The skeleton approached Franco defiantly — You supported the cause with your heart and sword. It's a matter of time until you get back to it. Also, haven't you seen what we've created? When we destroyed Farfania, people advanced, created new things that were previously believed to be just dreams —

— Stop it! Don't ever mention anything about that again! —

— Don't scream. Or do you want the girl to find out about your betrayal of the empire? —

Franco looked away from him. When he turned around, Rich was already gone.

For years he had tried to get away from that black stain in his past, but somehow it always came back. And worst of all, Rich had survived, something he thought impossible, but when you're a skeleton, you really can't die, right?

#queen fic #queen fanfiction #fem queen #fem! queen #between faith and the sword #my fic #roger taylor #magic au #fantasy au

29 notes · View notes

gemmaswriting · 4 years

Text

Anidala Fanfiction Recommendations!!

I’ve been asked for a long time for my fanfiction recommendations, so I’ve finally taken the time to compile them. If there are any you love that I missed out (this includes Vaderdala!) leave them as a reply so we can all have a good time reading together.

Writer: Shelivesfree (fanfiction profile) This wonderful girl has some of the most amazing Anidala stories I have ever had the pleasure of reading. Unfortunately, a lot of them have been hiatus for a while but her Boy Next Door trilogy has two amazing parts completed.

The stories I recommend:

“The Boy Next Door”: “When Padme Naberrie returns to her home after 10 years, the last thing she expects to find is her childhood friend, Anakin Skywalker; the boy next door. But 10 years is a long time, and he has changed more than she is prepared for. How will she react when little Ani is now a grown man, impulsive, handsome and completely infatuated with her? Modern AU.”

“The Girl from Harvard”: “Sequel to ‘The Boy Next Door’ Absence makes the heart grow fonder. It also makes it grow more paranoid. Padme is in her last year of Harvard. Anakin has just started at the University of Chicago. Though they won't admit it, their long-distance relationship is taking it's heavy toll. Will their love prevail or will the distance prove too much for both of them? Sequel to The Boy Next Door. Modern AU.”

“look into my eyes, that's where my demons hide”: ”Each time he comes back to her, a little piece of him is missing... left out there, in the field, with his brothers. She can see it in the way he smiles and it doesn't reach his eyes. In the way he cries to himself when he thinks she's not awake. And all she can do is hold him. Modern AU.”

“I Know Your Type” “Am I dead?" It slips out, accidentally. She turns her head towards me, a confused look on her face and tips her head. "Excuse me?" Flashing her an impish grin, I lean casually against the wall. "I must have died and gone to heaven, because you look like an angel." The look she gives me is far from impressed. "Do you use that with all the girls, or am I just lucky?"

“we both know what we want, so why don't we fall in love?” “Rhythmic Gymnast Padme Naberrie has dreamed of being an Olympian since she was five years old. Now, after years and years of training and preparations, she's finally made it to Rio, and nothing is going to stand in the way between her and a gold medal. Except a certain Canadian beach volleyball player, perhaps.”

“Infinite” “ My bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love as deep; the more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite.”

“for a moment” “And, just for a moment, all the worries and concerns that troubled the young couple cease to exist. Fade away to just this. Husband and wife. Asleep. Dreaming of the sweet little life they will soon bring into the world and into their hearts. Set somewhere in ROTS.”

“Procrastination” “Padmé is busy with a new bill she must bring before the next Senate meeting. Her husband has other ideas, it would seem.”

“There’s a million reasons I should give you up” “Padmé struggles to deal with Anakin's frequent departures for weeks, even months, at a time during the Clone Wars. It's in these moments she contemplates the practicality of their marriage. Grief-stricken with loneliness, she stumbles across something she wrote a long time ago... a list of sorts. The find brings about a whole host of emotions she'd rather not deal with.”

“all I need is you” “It was her fault. His pain, his jealousy, his insecurity. It was all her fault. Padme looked up at the beautiful man in front of her, her husband, her Ani, and decided she needed to make him remember. Remind him of how much she loved him. Because no one, no man in the entire galaxy, could take the place of Anakin Skywalker.”

“Her” “A glimpse into the Cosmic Force after Darth Vader's redemption and return to the Light Side. Anakin Skywalker is consumed by guilt and Obi-wan and Yoda are there to appease him. But it's been twenty-four years and all he wants is to see her.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Writer: SphinxScribe (Fanfiction profile/ Tumblr account @sphinxscribe ) This fantastic writer has many, many alternate takes on the plot of Revenge of the Sith - often allowing our favourite couple to have a happy ending. Their writing captures the world of Star Wars perfectly.

The stories I recommend:

“Where Catalysts Stand Down” “Palpatine issues Order 66, and Anakin and Padmé flee Coruscant. ROTS AU. Anakin/Padmé, Anidala.”

“Viability’s Edge” “Anakin tells Obi-Wan the truth. ROTS AU. Anakin/Padmé, Anidala.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Writer: Disco Shop Girl (Fanfiction profile) This writer’s take on Anidala is so well written within every story of theirs I have read. They truly capture their dynamic and relationship perfectly.

The stories I recommend:

“Your helmet cracked” “He'd been restrained, forced to watch while her helmet cracked and the Mon Calamari sea water threatened to drown her before his eyes. Now they're free. And alone. Set at the end of the Clone Wars season 4 Water War arc.”

“Order 66-S” “The order was to exterminate all Jedi: Past, Present and Future. Captain Rex has a different plan. Order 66-S: to save General Skywalker.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Writer: Rogue Darth Skywalker (Fanfiction profile/ Tumblr - @roguedarthskywalker) This wonderful person has been one of the biggest supporters of my own writing for a long time and I value them immensely! They have many delicious Anidala/Vaderdala stories for you to obsess over for hours and hours. I highly recommend following both profiles linked above.

The stories I recommend:

“Pin up Problems” “He hated the nose art. He hated seeing others degrade her other exceptional qualities by depicting her as some pin up girl. He hated thinking about how many other beings across the stars fantasized about her in such a way. At the same time, he can't deny that the art makes her look… hot. He can't deny that the sight turns him on.”

“Letting Go” “It was their custom. Every year on that fateful day, Anakin would make his way to the cemetery with his children and seek out the mausoleum where she rested."

“Far from Perfect” “Darth Vader is dead. Anakin is redeemed and lives on Naboo with Padme and their children. But not all happy endings are perfect.”

“Far from Easy” “Sequel to Far From Perfect. Redeemed Anakin Skywalker tries to make things right with his wife and kids.

“Perfect” “Happy Family style AU post ROTS. Padme wakes up in the middle of the night and ponders the most recent events in her life.”

“A Dangerous Fantasy” “Pure Smut. Padme helps Anakin fulfil a fantasy he has had since they were married- one that involves the Jedi Council Chambers.”

“Untitled” “Anakin and Padme deal with having to tell their young twins they are having another baby.”

“Strictly Professional” “There are times she hates that she has to resort to this- that rather than being in a long term relationship with someone, she chose to instead pay someone for sex. Modern AU.”

“Out of his Depth” “I fought in a war. I commanded legions of soldiers against battle droids. I think I can handle my own four-year-old twins."

“Love and Jealousy” “Anakin gave the binders an experimental tug, testing his chances of escaping. There was none. A light chuckle left his lips after a few moments, letting his head fall back to rest on the chair. What a compromising position for a Jedi Knight to be in. Handcuffed in a respected senator's bedchambers practically naked… oh, how the holonews would rave should the story get out!”

“Against all Odds” “He shouldn't be here. The election was only a few weeks away and the final debate was due in the next few days. There were so many other things he should be doing. He shouldn't be here, in enemy territory wrapped in the arms of the woman his boss despised. Modern AU. Smut.”

“What we Hope is Never Found” “The impending existence of a recording of them together held dangers that went a little deeper than if they were found naked and tangled together in her office or on his cruiser. The physical proof of their relationship would cause an uproar if it were discovered. But she trusted Anakin. Smut.”

“It was Found” “Sequel to What We Hope is Never Found.”

“Things that go bump in the night” “Luke and Leia think there is a ghost in their home. Their parents know better.”

“Preparations” “She couldn't wait to meet their little ones. It hadn't been too long since they learned she was having twins, and as stressful as that idea was at first, she was quickly growing accustomed to the idea of having two perfect little babies. Her husband, however, seemed to be taking it a little worse than her.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Writer: Skywalkersamidala (Archive of our Own profile/ Tumblr @markantonys) I absolutely adore the Anidala stories created by this author whether they’re aus or canon! They nail the couple’s dynamic throughout their many wonderful stories.

The stories I recommend:

“Snow Place like Home” “For genre-typical convoluted reasons involving ill-timed blizzards, Padmé is forced to spend the holidays at Anakin's house. Anakin isn't as upset about his boss staying with him for Christmas as he probably should be.“

“Soulmates R Us” “Anakin works at a toy store, and single-mother-of-twins Padmé is becoming one of the store's best customers.”

“Heirs of Light and Darkness” “After escaping the Jedi purge two years ago made him the most wanted fugitive in the galaxy, Anakin Skywalker has at last been captured by the Empire. He expects to be killed, but Lady Padmé Amidala, the imperial heir, has other ideas.”

“Friendly Competition” “Playing Quidditch is awfully difficult when you’re in love with the rival Seeker. Snapshots of Anakin and Padmé’s 7 years at Hogwarts.“

“Perfect” “The war is over, Luke and Leia are five years old, and Anakin and Padmé finally have the peaceful life and big family they've always dreamed of. But their life is about to get a little less peaceful and their family a little bigger.“

“Nos Cedamus Amori“ “Anakin is a gladiator and a slave. Padmé is the wife of the Roman emperor's heir. Circumstances should never even allow them to meet, let alone fall in love.“

“I Do Take Two” “Thirty years after their clandestine wedding on Naboo, Anakin and Padmé decide to finally do the proper wedding ceremony they never got to have, with all their friends and family present.“

“Flat Tire” “Who knew something as simple as getting a flat tire could change the entire course of your life?“

“Strays” “Anakin had always had a penchant for taking in strays.”

“Five weddings and a funeral” “Padmé's feeling gloomy about her perpetual singleness, but everything changes when she meets an attractive stranger at her sister's wedding.“

“Pipe Dream” “Padmé's new plumber is the most attractive human being she's ever laid eyes on, so naturally, she keeps faking plumbing emergencies so she can keep seeing him.“

“Birthdays and Birth days” “Anakin gets a birthday surprise — two of them, in fact.“

“Spouses with Benefits” “Anakin and Padmé wake up after a wild night in Vegas and discover they accidentally got married—and that Ahsoka posted about it all over social media, so now every single person they know is texting and calling them to offer congratulations. They decide to save face by pretending the marriage was totally 100% intentional and not a drunk mistake at all, keeping up the charade for six months, and then quietly getting divorced. But a lot can change in six months…“

“Two Halves Make a Whole” “Anakin is the single dad of Luke. Padme is the single mom of Leia. Luke and Leia meet in kindergarten and become best friends. The rest is history.“

“Home” “In which "Darth Vader" is no more than Anakin's playtime alter ego (happy Skywalker family AU)“

“Someday” “At age fourteen, Padme receives a marriage proposal from the nine-year-old boy next door and tells him to ask her again when she's thirty. Surely he'll have forgotten all about it by then.“

“Across the Centuries” “They meet each other in every century, but something always goes wrong before they can make it to happily-ever-after.”

“Madam President” “Between late nights and headaches and mountains of paperwork and fierce opposition from her political opponents, President Padmé Amidala already had enough on her plate. And then she just had to go and fall for one of her bodyguards, a relationship which would ruin her reputation and his career if anyone were to find out about it. Also, someone's trying to kill her.“

“Scars” “How do Anakin and Padmé go from "I love you" to "I do"? Missing scene from Attack of the Clones.”

“The Bet” “Anakin's had a crush on Padmé since fourth grade, and after putting up with his pining for seven years, Obi-Wan and Ahsoka are finally stepping in and making a bet that he can't ask her to junior prom in the spring. Meanwhile, Padmé is realizing that Anakin isn't as annoying as she'd always thought. In fact, her feelings towards him are starting to go in quite the opposite direction...”

“Three” “His and Padmé’s first wedding anniversary isn’t going nearly as well as Anakin had hoped it would. Until, suddenly, it’s so much better than he could have ever imagined.“

“The Anakin Disaster” “Padmé is mortified upon waking up beside her strictly platonic childhood best friend Anakin Skywalker the morning after a drunken one-night stand. A couple weeks later, she discovers that's the least of their problems.“

“Will You Fake Marry Me?” “Anakin's boss may or may not have accidentally given her family the impression that she's engaged to him. Anakin may or may not be pleased about the situation”

“Aggressive Negotiations” “Empress Amidala invites Lord Vader to her private rooms to persuade him to form an alliance with the Empire. Her methods are very effective.”

“Troubling Implications” “Perhaps he hated himself for it—Padmé thought he probably did—but he came that night (several times, in fact). And the night after that, and the next one, and the next, until it became a habit that neither of them seemed especially inclined to break. (Sequel to "Aggressive Negotiations")

“Imperial Obligations” “Padmé's advisors suggest that she get rid of Vader and make a politically advantageous marriage. The Empress is less than pleased. (Sequel to "Aggressive Negotiations" and "Troubling Implications")”

“Welcome Home” “Anakin Skywalker closes his eyes on the face of his son. When he opens them again, he is in Naboo, and someone is waiting for him.“

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Writer: Shawn30 (Fanfiction profile) The one, the only, the deservedly famous! I think every Anidala fan is aware of this f a n t a s t i c writer’s work. Deliciously smutty. Unbelievably well written. Unfortunately, many of their works have been left uncompleted for years but the stories are still worth reading!

“Whisper” “Absence makes the heart grow fonder, but can also whither your soul and breed doubt in your heart. AP angsty erotica.”

“The Ties that Bind” “Given a brief period of time off during the Clone Wars, Padmé and Anakin visit her family at the Lake Country estate on Naboo. A family that still doesn't know they are married, although they are about to find out. Complete.”

“The Light and the Dark” “Chapter 1 in the Hearts and Souls series. An unexpected Separatist attack 'accidentally' reunites two star-crossed lovers, giving them a brief moment of peace at a time of war. Complete.”

“Shadows of Winter” “Chapter 2 in the Hearts and Souls series. With six days to spend together celebrating their two year anniversary, Anakin and Padme travel separately to a remote planet in the Hoth system. Romance, passion, and danger await them. Complete.”

“Beloved” “Chapter 3 in the "Hearts and Souls" series. When faced with the most horrific news imaginable, Padme's utter desperation forces her to turn to Obi-Wan and even Chancellor Palpatine for help. Her greatest personal challenge awaits... Complete”

“Paradise” “The sequel to "Beloved." Following Padme's daring rescue of her husband, the Skywalker's return to Naboo for eight days to heal, unwind, spend time with family, and deal with their connection to the Dark Side of the Force.”

“Salvation” “After facing his moment of truth, Anakin and Padmé must finally deal with the consequences. Obi-Wan reveals a startling discovery. Complete”

“Scandalous” “The sequel to Salvation. On the eve of Padmé Skywalker's official ascension to the role of Vice Chair of the Republic, Anakin steals her away for a wild vacation to Cloud City. Complete.”

“Sacred” “Chapter 2. Ahsoka and Jo'Seth grow closer. Padme's trip to the Jedi Temple on Republic business turns a bit more adventurous. Anakin and Obi-Wan have a heart to heart talk about moving forward.”

“Belonging” “A private afternoon lunch to catch up with an old friend during the Clone Wars reveals a great deal to ObiWan Kenobi. AP”

“Before the Seasons Change” “With the Darth Sidious finally defeated and the Clone Wars ended, Anakin and Padme consider what comes next in their lives. Anakin/Padme”

“Amor Vincit Omnia” “AU. After a three and a half year separation Vice Chair Amidala and Jedi Master Skywalker have some unfinished business as the Clone Wars have finally ended and Palpatine is dead.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

If there’s any stories I missed, let me know!

#Anidala #anidala fanfiction #Vaderdala #vaderdala fanfiction #Anidala fic rec

197 notes · View notes

therenlover · 3 years

Text

The Doctor Is In (Part Two of Till Forever Falls Apart, A Peter Maximoff/Reader Series)

Synopsis: Peter’s first few days in his new home are mostly uneventful, so he decides it’s the perfect time to dust off his running goggles and steal some shit. The building with the massive circular stained glass window seems like a great place to start! People with buildings that lavish are usually rich and weak, so what could possibly go wrong?

Tags: Pre-Relationship, Slow Burn, Falling in Love, Attempted Theft, Secrets, Suspicions,

Rating: T

Warnings: Mild Language, Slight Sexual Innuendo

Word Count: 2800~

This work, as well as the other completed parts of this series, have been crossposted to my AO3!

-----

To Peter’s credit, it had all started with good intentions… okay, semi-good intentions, but that was the best defense he had to offer.

One moment he’s speeding into a funky building with a cool glass window looking for a knick-knack to take home to Y/N and the next he’s falling through endless darkness, searching for anything he could possibly grab onto. It was hell. Worst of all, though, he couldn’t use his speed. The world was only emptiness and darkness for as far as he could reach. Well, it was until he hit the ground.

It was a sudden jolt after what felt like hours of captivity when Peter hit the cool tiles of the flooring below him. The bright light after total darkness burned his eyes. He winced against it, lifting his arms to shield his face. There was no time to acclimate to his new surroundings, though, which were definitely not part of the building he had been inside before he might add, because the second his vision came back into focus a booming voice rang out from behind him.

“Peter Maximoff, what purpose did you have for breaking into the Sanctum Sanctorum?”

Peter spun around quickly on the ground to find a man floating behind him. Wait, floating? He didn’t even have time to question how the stranger knew his name while he was questioning what the hell he was. Was he a mutant? The man looked furious, his red cape billowing out behind him in an almost menacing manner while he stroked his goatee, eyebrows pinched together with rage. Peter had no clue what his deal was or who the hell he was looking at but he did know he had to calm him down fast if he wanted to avert disaster.

Apparently, he was thinking too long though because he wasn’t fast enough.

“I’ll ask you one last time,” the man’s hands came down to chest level, whirring with some sort of orange power, “why did you break into the Sanctum Sanctorum? This is your last chance,”

Somewhere in the distance, a dull thud sounded against the tile, like someone dropping a purse or bag. Peter didn’t have time to think about that, though. He was too busy saving his own life. All he had to do was get to his feet so he could run off! Unfortunately, that was better said than done.

“Woah, Woah, Woah!” he scrambled backward trying to stand but found his feet bound with the same orange sparks that were growing by the second in his attacker’s hands, “I have no clue what the hell a Sanctum Sanctorum is! I think you’ve got the wrong guy, man,”

His assailant cocked his head to the side. “So you’re telling me some other inhumanly fast kleptomaniac mutant from another dimension broke through all of my wards and tried to steal priceless magical artifacts from the Sanctum?”

Peter shrugged nonchalantly. “Magical artifacts? Dude, magic isn’t real. You’ve got the wrong guy,”

Thankfully, the man sighed in exhaustion, letting the orange sparks in his palms disappear as he pinched the bridge of his nose leaving only the ones around Peter’s ankles remaining. For the first time in his life, Peter was glad to be annoying.

“Jesus, I should have had my coffee before dealing with you…”

“I know right?” Peter propped himself up on his hands, “it’s always tragic when you catch the wrong guy, but I’m sure you’ll find your thief eventually. In fact, I think I saw some super speedy dude running towards Central Park when I was walking past that fancy building with the big circle window. That’s so weird! Maybe you should let me go so you can go find your guy,”

The man only seemed to get more pissed off the further Peter dug himself into his own grave. “Oh, I’m not planning on letting you go any time soon. I’m just avoiding a reckoning by letting your keeper know I’m taking you into the Avenger’s custody before we go,”

He was so screwed. “That’s not a-”

Before Peter could even finish his sentence, a crash echoed from across the room.

“STEPHEN STRANGE,”

Now, Peter couldn’t decide if he was saved or even more screwed than before.

There, across the room of what he had now gathered to be a large exhibit at some sort of museum, was Y/N. To say she looked furious would be an understatement.

The art on the walls seemed to shake in her wake as she stormed into the open center of the room, eyes boring holes into Peter’s assailant as she rolled up the sleeves of her paint-stained denim button-up. He could only imagine that this was the reckoning the magic dude was trying to avoid.

The man, Stephen, didn’t waver despite Y/N’s entrance. “Would it kill you to just use my title? I got my doctorate for a reason, you know,” His tone was flat and almost bored as Y/N seethed.

“Fuck you,” she spat, “what the hell are you doing with Peter? And bringing him here of all places? I thought you were supposed to be the responsible Avenger,”

“And I thought you were supposed to keep this menace under control. It looks like we both have a few responsibilities we aren’t keeping up with, huh?”

Across the floor, Peter winced. He hadn’t intended on getting anyone in trouble, he was just looking for a little fun to pass the time and maybe a housewarming gift that would fit in with the rest of Y/N’s antique decor. How was he supposed to know that a crazy, magic, floating guy would take him to what he could only assume was magic prison for breaking into his wizard’s lair? Surprisingly, Y/N picked up his movement.

“Peter, are you okay?” Her eyes never left Strange, flaming with a ferocity that bordered on homicidal, but her voice softened considerably as she spoke to him. He was quick to respond.

“I’m all good! A little tied up at the moment, but it’s nothing I can’t handle!” He shouted back.

Y/N nodded. “Good, just stick tight while I deal with this asshole,”

As the last words left her lips all the softness she had mustered for Peter’s sake dissolved, leaving behind pure, unbridled anger once more.

“You had no right to take him, Strange. We made a deal,”

“You’re right, we did make a deal,” Stephen responded, floating to the ground and taking a step closer to Y/N, “but my duties as Sorcerer Supreme will always come first,”

“That has nothing to do with him! He poses no threat to this universe!”

“He was attempting to steal extremely powerful magical artifacts, Y/N! If a mutant from another dimension had gotten their hands on the Book of Vishanti or the Clock of the Ages who knows what might have happened?”

Y/N stilled. “Peter,” her voice wasn’t the same as it had been when she was shouting at Strange, but it also wasn’t half as gentle as it has been before, “did you steal anything from Stephen?”

Peter, still dazed from the entirety of the experience, was quick to defend himself.

“No! No, I didn’t steal anything!”

One sharp look from Stephen and Y/N sent him spiraling for an excuse.

“Okay, I went in with the intention of stealing, but I had no idea that stuff was magical! I didn’t even know wizards existed! Witches I understood but wizards too? In the middle of New York? Besides, all of this is a moot point! I didn’t actually take anything,”

Surprisingly, Y/N’s expression seemed to soften once again. “See, Stephen? Peter didn’t mean any harm. Now let him go, and this can all be a thing of the past,” As she spoke, he could have sworn that her eyes began to faintly glow.

“I still don’t think it’s a great idea to let him roam free,” Stephen ran a hand through his salt and pepper hair and the restraints around Peter’s ankles tightened slightly.

“Then you’ll have to take him from me,” Y/N brought her hands up, small rippling balls of light beginning to grow in her palms. Peter had never been so scared and aroused in his life. Was this the ‘small power’ she had mentioned to him when he moved in?

“I have remained civil with you and the mages of your order, Strange, but you have no power over me, especially on my own home turf. You lack the time stone now, so you know what will happen if you and I go toe to toe again. Besides, none of that matters. Peter is mine. Mine to protect and defend until he returns to his rightful place in his universe. So, will you let him go, or will we have to settle this the old-fashioned way?”

Y/N’s eyes were definitely glowing now, a brilliant green gleaming from within her as a rough breeze began flowing in from the door across the room. Stephen made no move to attack though. Instead, he heaved a sigh. “You can have your man child back Y/N, calm down,”

Slowly, the glow dissipated, the orbs of light shrinking into nothingness as she lowered her hands. “Thank you, Stephen,”

In an instant, it was as if the pair had gotten along the whole time.

He nodded. “Don’t thank me, just keep him away from ancient magical secrets next time,” Strange paused as if he was finished speaking, but then chuckled softly. It was the most human Peter had ever seen him. “You know how this ends, Y/N. We both do. Are you really sure you want to go through with this?”

It was Y/N’s turn to nod. “I appreciate that you’re looking out for me, but I made my choice a long time ago. There has never been another path for me. Please respect that,”

Peter was clueless as to what any of their exchange meant, too busy rubbing the ache out of his newly freed ankles to think too deeply about whatever deep exchange was happening in front of him, but a nagging feeling in his chest made him think that it must have something to do with him.

Then, in a burst of golden light, Stephen Strange was gone, leaving Y/N and Peter alone as they took in everything that had just happened. It was silent for a moment, the two of them caught between being stunned and glad to see each other, before Y/N’s angry facade melted away.

“What a fucking asshole,” she snickered, making her way over to Peter and offering him a hand, “I hate that guy,”

Peter took her hand and, with a soft pull, was finally upright again. “I know, right? He seems like a total douchebag,”

“Right? Like, yeah it’s terrible enough to kidnap you and try to take you into Avengers custody, but trying to get me to hand you over at my job? That’s just rude on a whole new level,”

“You work here?” Peter gestured at the art on the walls, making Y/N smile.

“Yeah, this is where I go every day. Welcome to the Brooklyn Museum!” She began to lead him out towards the door, linking her arm around his in a strangely intimate act. Peter was sure that she didn’t mean it like that but something about her closeness made his heart flutter.

He guffawed as they walked, passing happy couples and exhibits packed full. “It’s cool here, but I just assumed you worked somewhere… I dunno, more hero-y?”

Y/N laughed. “Everyone always does, but I’ve been attached to restoring paintings since before I ever took up the whole hero gig. I guess it’s the one stable thing I’ve had for my whole life.”

Watching Y/N’s face light up almost made Peter forget that less than an hour earlier he’d been shoved in an infinite dark dimension and threatened with imprisonment by a wizard. It was like she was the only thing worth seeing in a building full of priceless art.

“I’ve always felt strangely comfortable in museums,” she continued, hand brushing against Peter’s bicep in what he could only assume was an accident, “being surrounded by history just feels right to me. It’s like coming home,” Peter couldn’t help but grin, holding back a snicker.

“I’m guessing that’s the real reason you offered to take me in,” he teased, gently ribbing Y/N and making her giggle, “just couldn’t help but bring home a blast from the past who still has their youthful good looks,”

“You caught me! I just couldn’t resist your elderly charms,”

In a moment of poor judgment, Peter found himself leaning into her touch but was surprised to find her leaning right back into him. His heart began to pound faster. He could only hope she couldn’t tell. The feeling of being close to Y/N, listening to her laugh, being the shoulder she leaned on… it was like nothing Peter had ever felt before.

The short remainder of their walk to Y/N’s destination was mostly quiet, but neither of them tried to pull away from the other. Their moment only ended when they reached a large door labeled ‘Staff Only’. Y/N finally unlinked her arm from Peter’s before turning to face him. He was proud to note the flush on her face.

“I’m gonna go grab my bag,” she muttered, worrying the edge of her lip with her teeth, “do you mind taking me home? Traveling with you would probably be faster than hailing a taxi, and way less expensive,”

Between the thought of getting to be close to Y/N again and the excitement of getting to show off his powers, Peter was eager to please. “Sure thing! Do you want me to grab your bag for you? I’m sure I’d be quicker?” He emphasized his statement with a wink. Unfortunately, it didn’t have the desired effect.

Instead, Y/N looked almost nervous as she shook her head no. “I’ve got it, Peter,” she insisted.

He quirked up an eyebrow in surprise. “You sure? We could be home in a minute tops, just say the word,”

“There’s just a lot of important museum stuff back there! I trust you Peter, but this is priceless art we’re talking about, so I’d rather not take any chances. I’ll be back in a second!”

She slowly backed towards the door, offering him one last smile before disappearing into the darkness beyond. Something about her expression turned Peter’s stomach. It wasn’t unfamiliar, she had acted similarly in a few days Peter had known her at seemingly random times, but it just seemed… suspicious, like there was something he should definitely know that he was being kept in the dark about. Despite everything, he shook off the feeling, chalking it up to him not understanding all the intricacies of this new universe. If love made him blind, he was willing to take that chance.

It only took a few minutes for Y/N to emerge, a small messenger bag in hand, but when she did she was joyful once again, offering Peter an apologetic smile. “Sorry about that. Did I miss anything while I was gone?”

He shook his head, pulling down his goggles and offering her his hand. “Not much, just the end of the world,”

She giggled. “So do I just hop on your back or what?”

Peter’s heart skipped a beat. In a second he was down on his knee. “All aboard,” He did his best to keep still as Y/N settled herself on his back, then he was lifting her easily, arms hooked under her knees as she giggled into his hair. “What’s so funny?”

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders securely as he stood. “I just expected you to call yourself the Bohner express,”

It took all of Peter’s strength to keep his laughter under control. “You tell me that now? After the opportunity to use it has passed?”

Y/N squeezed him a little tighter. “I’m sure you’ll get to use it next time,”

The thought of a next time sent Peter’s heart rate through the roof. Oh, it was on.

“I’d hold on if I were you,” he said, smirking, “the Bohner express is leaving the station,”

Y/N was quick to snap back. “Let’s hope it doesn’t disappoint,”

“Oh Y/N, the Bohner express never disappoints,”

“Prove it,”

Peter had them back to the brownstone in record time.

#peter maximoff #peter maximoff x reader #evan peters #evan peters x reader #marvel #doctor strange #quicksilver #fanfic #wandavision

49 notes · View notes

quitethepirategal · 3 years

Text

An Analysis in Threes

❥ TAGGED BY: @emcads like 30 years ago ❥ TAGGING: @riidcr @starsailingcaptain @covencrown @hookd @all-fleshed-out @evermxre @motherofredemption @bup1957 @conquistadoradelmar @seaprofound @tcthinecwnself @withinycu @windguided @daevilhorns @concordia-cum-sinistro and YOU and I spent like 8 hours on this so pLEASE READ IT PLEASE I AM BEGGING I NEED VALIDATION I’M-

repost don’t reblog. yall dont have to type this much.

MUSE: Captain Red Handed Jessica

Three Strengths:

Her adaptability and resourcefulness. Is she brave, yes. Is she lucky, also yes. But over all, she can roll with the cards she’s been dealt in a way that many would call inhumanly clever. Her intelligence, her perception, and her charisma are all different ingredients of this indomitable characteristic of hers. She can see the value in just about anything and anyone, can pick up on clues and tangents few others can follow, and can remember seemingly endless details, tho unfortunately not on command. But even then, her patchy memory seems to contribute to this adaptability as well, as it usually allows for detachment. If she can find resources everywhere, it means she can survive everywhere. There have been countless times where the wheel of fortune has suddenly turned on her and she’d lost near everything and her response was more or less Damn, ok I need food water and shelter lets go. No food? Grow food. No water? Ask someone if they have water. No shelter? Sleep outside. No money? Steal money. Can’t hear anymore? Cool I can use loud weapons. Crashed on an island? My island now. Shot? Free bullet. She knows when to push, she knows when to quit, and sometimes she knows when to gamble based on her ability ( what a man can do and what he can’t do and all that ). Strong she may be, she knows its foolish to rely on strength. Survival of the fittest actually rarely means survival of the strongest. ( edit; this is the theme for the entirety of her character. I will say it 50,000 times. I am very sorry ). And as a student of philosophy and biology, she understands that phrase better than most. Leading to our next point.

Her understanding. As I stated, her charisma is something unmatched, and is a key element in all three of her strengths. This charisma might not exist as prominently were it not for her ability to understand. She has limited ( I’ll get back to that ) but deep running empathy and while not terribly observant all the time, she is always perceptive. Not only that, but she’s personally known abuse, hardship, and uncertainty, and understands that hate or anger can be rooted in similar pain. She was schooled lightly in both Christian and Buddhist values before diving heavily into democratic philosophy, meaning she believes all being experience suffering and therefore kindness is a powerful sign of strength, but also that suffering while free and equal is better than comfort in oppression. And between her sweet words and beautiful face, she can get most people to open up in ways they themselves my not have expected. Being very good with people means she can learn from them, gain something from them, lead them, and/or use them. But Jessica isn’t a manipulator in truth; her intentions are almost always kind or healthy ones. She absolutely uses people from time to time but not EVER without them consenting to or being made aware of such because again, unlike a manipulative person, she understands that can ruin a relationship and therefore ruin a resource. What it makes for is an excellent leader, a beloved captain, and a trusted ally at most and an excellent conversationalist at the least. But her understanding isn’t just social, oh no. It’s academic as well. Armed only with his little library and the lessons of his own teachers, Jessica’s foster father tirelessly smithed her into a not just a girl who knew a lot of things, but a truly intelligent, thinking mind. He’d die before learning he’d succeeded tenfold. Jessica isn’t one to just except things as they are, facts or otherwise. She usually needs to prove it, experiment, see things from a new angle. Debates with her are fun! She has no issue admitting she’s wrong or confessing she’s never thought of it that way, and is actually wrong a lot of the time. It doesn’t bruise her ego, it excites her. It means there’s more to learn. And her ability to constantly understand new concepts paired with her ability to overwhelmingly understand people combine to make for a very powerful core idea of hers: We are fittest to survive because we all fit together. Our humanity, our empathy, our community are our strengths because they keep us united, which keeps us the fittest. No one is independent, no man is an island. People are power. And thus her final strength is just that.

Her power. While she and I still firmly state that strength isn’t everything don’t be disillusioned; its very goddamn important. And it’s something Jessica has plenty of. She is durable and clever because of her rocky early childhood, she is quick and versatile from her youth in a pirate port, she is physically strong and mighty from her years training in martial arts, and she’s an absolute crackshot after years of diligent practice with her trusty pistols. Her true strength may lie in her brains and in her allies yes, but even without them, Red Jessica is a powerhouse of a warrior. She can end fights extremely quickly or run from them without a prayer of catching her ( no shame in the later, both skills keep you alive ). And it may be in bad taste to say, but ever since loosing most of her hearing, Jess swears up and down it’s made her vision better, her reaction time faster, and her quick thinking even quicker. Yes of course she’s slowed down with age, but a bullet shoots at the same speed no matter how old you are. And you best hope she didn’t bring her firecrackers, because while sudden loud noises will absolutely temporarily discombobulate or debilitate an opponent with healthy hearing, it’ll hardly effect her at all and suddenly, you’re a sitting duck. You see those thighs? You see those calves? She can crush PINEAPPLES with them! People have seen her do it! Do you know how many micro-fractures broke and rebuilt those hands? Thousands! She can crush a trachea like a fucking beer can! She can kick you to death! One ill placed curb stomp and you are DECEASED. Sometimes she’ll just psyche you out because she KNOWS you know she can kill your stupid ass! But while her strength, mental and physical, have always been there, her power is relatively new. As stated before, people are power. Not knowledge, not money, not strength. People. She’s a fearsome warrior but she’d be useless if outnumbered. Shes a very successful pirate, but she’d never make it out of port without a crew on her ship. She found a gorgeous island, but it’d still be wild without those who built it’s piers and buildings. She manages orchards and tends to them and harvests them herself, but she would loose all of her crop without the helping hands of her employed farmers. And like I mentioned, she deeply understands this. Freedom is not independence or vice versa. Did you make the clothes on your back or the fabric that made those clothes? Did you write the books you read to make you smarter or teach you that skill? Did you plant the seed years ago that grew that orange you’re eating? No, of course not. Jessica didn’t either. Another human did. We all need each other to fill the holes in our lives that we can’t fill ourselves. Humans are puzzle pieces in that way, there is no bigger picture or prayer for survival on our own. And because of this, we can do anything we as a community, as a SPECIES work together to achieve. There is no knowledge if there’s no one to learn from, there is no money if a society don’t give it value, your money is worthless if those you’re paying decide to rise against you, your role as leader only exists at the consent of those you lead, and your strength won’t save you from a sinking ship. People are, and always will be, power. And as someone who is exceptionally strong and exceedingly smart, Jessica has slotted herself in the humanity puzzle thusly: The strong exist to protect the weak, the smart exist to educate, and the lucky exist so the unlucky may be given aid. And it is with this fairness and compassion that she has won the trust of so many. She has a great many friends and allies even outside of those in her crew or on her island. And she can make many more with ease. That kind of power is not a power to be trifled with, even if she can kick your ass six ways to Saturday without it.

Three Weaknesses:

She suffers ADHD. Now before ANY OF Y’ALL SAY ANYTHING, I myself also suffer ADHD. And yes I do say suffer because well that’s what it causes for Jessica and I, suffering. Yes, it is ableist language to say ‘suffering from’ rather than ‘has’ or ‘is diagnosed with’ and yes it perpetuates a stigma against us but god DAMN IT in both Jessica’s case and mine, it make life much much harder than it needs to be. At the end of the day, Red Jessica is a fantasy of mine; I pour myself into her whether I mean to or not. She’s the adult I wish I was, the person I might be if I had no anxiety, or brainfog, or lived in a world were I didn’t need a credit score or a degree. And even then, I can’t say I know anyone else’s problems better than my own. So if my character has problems, by sheer osmosis they are going to reflect some of mine. Both of the characters I write have ADHD because I have ADHD and I couldn’t even begin to know how a non-ADHD mind works to write it properly. And no, I’m not being dramatic when I say it causes me suffering. I can’t drive, I can’t hold down a job, I nearly flunked out of school, I still cant read very fast or spell very well, I am constantly overwhelmed by mundane things, I’m a slow learner, I forget very important things or recent things, I forget about things that mean the world to me, I forget about people, I stumble through tasks, I procrastinate hobbies and basic hygiene, and everything I do takes all goddamn day and I can only really do one important thing at a time and in order of importance. If I have a date at 4pm, I’m dressed and ready at 11am because I’ve gotta do the important thing first or else I will forget to do the important thing. I started typing this at a little before 5pm. It’s 7;30. It’ll probably be 10 o’clock at night by the time I fucking finish ( edit: l m a o its 1am bitch you thought ). I’m 26 and am just medicated enough to barely function. So yeah. Suffering is the word. Though for Jessica, perhaps suffering is a tad strong of a word. Her ADHD affects her ability to function in far less debilitating ways ( though whether that’s a result of a less severe diagnosis than me or the result of the society, situations, and responsibilities she functions in and around are far different from mine, who’s to say ). For her, she has very consuming hyperfixations that can last anywhere between weeks to decades, a spotty memory that is detail and memento oriented, she’s scatterbrained more often then not but can focus with amazing clarity on her interests or in high adrenaline situations, is is ABYSMALLY bad at math and EXCRUCIATINGLY bad with numbers ( as opposed to me, who is good at numbers but shit at spelling or reading ), she can forget anything no matter how important it is to her or to anyone, she’s bad with names and dates, is COMPLETELY time-blind, has trouble prioritizing, and of course, wile not actually that materialistic, she absolutely has the ol’ magpie instinct. While her poor memory assists in her adaptability and ability to move on, it also means she forgets things she needed to remember, like when the last time she bathed was and who this person is and what happened between her and someone else or what conversation’s shes had. Unfortunately this means she’s a very good friend and leader... while you’re around and interacting with her on at least a weekly basis. It’s almost a lack of object permanence in both a social and very real sense. If something is not right in front of her, odds are she’s not going to think about it. And while its something she constantly kicks herself for and actively tries to be better about, it applies to people too. Face to face is the best way to interact with her; she won’t think to write you and in her modern verse she won’t think to ever call and she’ll text you back in perhaps a few days. She doesn’t value you any less, I promise. She’s just either distracted or overwhelmed. Also, for someone as understanding as her, she is surprisingly self-centered. Not selfish, self-centered. She’ll talk about herself more than she should, and will assume people understand that she’s doing so as a form of showing empathy rather than bragging when they may not know this at all. Actually she accidentally assumes all the time. It was far worse when her hearing was functional; she’d finish your sentence for you or guess what it was you were going to say ( again, not to talk over, you but to show she understands you and the conversation, tho it usually came of as annoying or patronizing ). Sometimes she mistakenly assumes you believe or know the same things she does without even realizing it. Maybe she perceives the right idea off of someone but isn’t observant enough to notice anything past that. And while she is willing to change her mind about things, she might change her mind a tad too quickly. She’s an over-sharer and is horrible at keeping any kind of secret. Romantic relationships tend to fizzle out. Her impulse control is improving but has a VERY long way to go. She’s always chasing something new. All and all, when you’re a pirate, a librarian, or even a captain, all of these things may be irritating and inconvenient, but are overall manageable in chunks. ...But as a governor to her island, as a leader of an entire population... oof. In the position of leadership that she’s in, she can’t afford to make too many massive mistakes, and she knows this. ‘There is no power quite like the power of being underestimated’ is a phase you’ll hear her say a lot but for her, there is a shift in connotation. If people expect less and you do more that’s a great upper hand in any situation but for her, it was a safety net. Having ADHD sometimes means going months or years being fine and then eventually you fuck up and everyone around you wonders how in the world you managed to do that. She has only barely avoided disaster more times than she’d like to admit. Even with the resourcefulness, the understanding, and the power she wields, she’s finally starting to realize that she’s bit off more than she might be able to chew, with the entire well-beings and livelihoods of others on the line. And she fears that one day she’ll play her cards wrong and everything she’d built, everything she’s done, will all come crashing down in ruin.

She is Hard of Hearing. This one is literally as simple as it sounds: she has moderate and degenerative hearing loss and tinnitus after years of canons, explosions, gunshots, and a definitive, scale tipping attack in her early 30s. Her ears just don’t work at all like they used to. The whole world sounds like it would if everything was underwater: she can’t pin point the location of sounds, how far off or close sounds are, and barely registers changes in volume. And it only gets worse the older she gets; one day she won’t hear anything at all. And while yes, again, it might be very harsh and ableist to say, the truth of the matter that being deaf a “ weakness ” more often than its a strength. That said, it very well can be a strength. I’ve already mentioned that trick with the firecrackers and let me tell you it is a DAMN EFFECTIVE TRICK. Shes around explosions and canons and guns all the time and now she can focus while being around them five times better than she could in the past! But unfortunately it also means she’s very easy to sneak up on, she sometimes isn’t aware of danger until it’s nearly too late, no one can get her attention or warn her across any distance, it’s very easy to escape from her, and it’s easy for her to be just... left out of things. She might hear you talking, but she has little to no idea what you’re saying without sign or lipreading. Some people don’t have the patience or even just the courtesy to speak slower, or clearer, or repeat themselves a lot. Though, those last too thinks aren’t weaknesses of hers so much as they are the weakness of others, but they still negatively affect her self esteem and her effectiveness as a leader. All of this has taught her to pick her battles carefully, and plan around the elements of surprise and discombobulation. And while communication was tricky at first, it only got easier, and now she can talk to you almost like anyone can, so long as she’s looking you in the face.

That damn bleeding heart. We have established a number of things that should easily add up to an overly empathetic, trusting, fight-the-good-fight, martyr-some, idealistic pushover; she believes humanity and kindness are strengths, she has taken on the role of leader and then a provider, she has known suffering and tasked herself with ending the suffering of others to the best of her ability, she lacks the clarity of mind to assume people aren’t just as good or capable as her automatically, she can have poor impulse control at times, she wants to have relationships, and ( while I never stated this outright yet it can be inferred ), she believes that being able to see yourself in others is the foundation of humanity and ( as i did say outright ) humanity is what keeps us unified and unity is what makes us fit and strong. Keeping up? Good. Here’s the curve ball: How can she whole hardheartedly preach and believe all of this, to the point of it being the foundation of her character, WHILE BEING A VIOLENT THIEVING AND BLOODTHIRSTY PIRATE?! HOW, MANGO? HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE?! MAKE IT MAKE SENSE!! Ok, fine, sure, I will. I’m sure about one half of you are looking up from the screen and going “ Oh yeah, wow I totally forgot that bit. “ and the other half got about two and a half paragraphs in before squinting and silently calling bullshit. So let me explain. In short, she’s a detached hypocrite and is well aware and unashamed of her hypocrisy while far less aware of her detachment. I’ll cover both: Western culture as a whole seems to be under the impression that hypocrisy, despite context or importance, is automatically bad. I don’t know where this comes from personally ( my bet is Christianity but I have exactly 0 evidence ) but its a very... flawed idea. Take the freedom of speech vs racism problem; say you owned a bar where all could speak their mind freely over cold drinks. Excellent concept without context, right? Sure. ....Then a die hard racist covered in slurs and symbols walks in and orders- what are you going to do? The correct answer is to throw him out instantly. Not let him sit so long as he doesn’t cause trouble, not just ignore him and hope he doesn’t return, you throw him out. Is it hypocritical? Yep! Sure is! But it is also 100% necessary to protect your other patrons because if you don’t, the racist starts feeling safe and bringing his racist buddies, literally everyone else starts feeling unsafe and starts to hang out elsewhere, and two months later, ta da! You now own a n*zi bar and there is literally nothing you can do about it. Jessica is in a somewhat similar situation. You as a pretend bar owner need to make a decision as who to let into your bar and who to throw out for the good of all of your patrons. Jessica too is faced daily with that decision. If she want’s to help as many people as possible, the only realistic way she can do that are by protecting those under her leadership... only. She is surrounded by hateful, angry, sneaky, traitorous, abusive, or otherwise evil people. Piracy as a profession and poverty in general can do that to a person. Of course there is a clear difference between those down on their luck and desperate, and the truly cruel and twisted, but unfortunately both types of people yield the same wrongdoings. It’s absolutely her nature to extend a hand to anyone and everyone but.... she just can’t anymore. Too many times has her trust been betrayed, too many times has she gotten in peoples business trying to be helpful, only for her to absolutely bite her in the ass. Too many time the extended hand is bitten and once or twice, she’s actually made things worse. Now, she will only help someone she loves, someone under her leadership, or someone who seeks her out. That’s it. And even then, sometime it manages to bite er in the ass. But she had to set that hard limit for herself out of necessity, one she does her absolute best to adhere too and... these days she adheres a little too well. That leads us to our next point; what I was alluding to at the beginning of her Understanding essay when I said she has limited but deep running empathy. That detachment again, courtesy of a very unattached mother and unchecked ADHD. ( It isn’t a strong enough characteristic to even rank as a strength or a weakness but damn if it isn’t an undercurrent to a lot of her motivations and experiences. ) Strangers are fair game that she tries to ignore, but if she even perceives you as a threat, you could be in danger. Like anyone used to violence or perhaps anyone trapped in an us verses them mindset, she can just... flat... turn her empathy off. Not on command, she’s not a socio or psychopath persay. But she has become totally numb to the horror of violence via her warrior upbringing that, in her mind, violence can actually be rather fun. Pair that with the fact that she purposely tailored herself to only be empathetic to her allies and boom. You get a kindhearted killer. Cops and soldiers in our world do it literally every day. Actually anyone can do it really, even you if you tried. You don’t have to be evil or even angry to kill or steal or lie... you just have to believe you’re right.

Three Secrets:

WHAT SECRETS?! LMAO this bitch is the oversharing queen!! I’ve been typing and pondering her character for literal hours ( its currently 11:16, fuck you adderall ), and I still can not think of a single goddamn secret. There is nothing about her that at least five random people don’t fucking know about!! The only secrets she has are secrets she knows about other people and even then she is!! literally the worst!! She spills her guts left and right and yet she wants to be a mysterious bitch SO BAD like BABE I love you, you’re precious, but you are a dumbass attention seeking validation chasing adhd CLOWN girl!! Stop telling random people about your hermaphroditism or your dairy allergy or your dead dad or that time you fell asleep in a barrel like that is literally your uber driver Jessica honey come ooooon. I’m skipping this section mom holy fuck.

Three Fears:

What if she does wrong by everyone who trusts her? As stated at the end of the ADHD essay, she’s terrified of failing those she leads. Where it as simple as personal failure, she’d be fine. Ever if her entire world came crashing down on top of her she’d either die or start back from square one. Death is a fact of life and her adaptability means she can just dust herself off and move on, so neither her death nor her failures really scare her... But it isn’t just her life and happiness at stake, is it? Not anymore, right? What started as a leader of a small gang of rebels became a full crew, then a crew became a slew of allies, then those allies built a town and now... now she’s the governor of the Crimson Isle and there are nearly twenty five HUNDRED lives at her mercy. HER mercy. One really, really bad mistake could ruin their livelihoods or spark disorder and disloyalty. And if she died? Would whoever it is that will take her place be as good to them as she is? Is she good enough to begin with in the first place? Every day the paperwork gets a little bit thicker, every year there’s a new baby or two. And the isle has fertile soil sure but will it last? Are they prepared for a raid or a hurricane? And if Jessica trusts the wrong people, where her people right to trust her? ...can I protect them? Can I protect them?! CAN I PROTECT THEM?!

Who am I if I’m not interesting? This is, literally, an entirely subconscious fear. She’s not at all aware it exists and therefor this entry is short. But between her short time with her very unimpressed mother, her own ADHD, she is constantly hungry for attention without even realizing it. She must be interesting and intriguing and engaging, and I did mention she wants to also be mysterious. She wants not so much your input or even your validation - but rather if shes not perceived then.... is she really there? Remember, she is unaware of any of this. And fortunately she’d never been starved for attention to act out over it in the first place, even when her disinterested mother was alive. Look at her; she’s radiant, she’s beautiful, and she’s 6′4 / 195 cm shredded and covered in cool scars. Without even opening her mouth, without even her colorful clothes, she’s kind of automatically interesting. So she’s never been so desperate for attention that she acts out because she’s never been without it for very long. But it’s there. Hungry, aching, silent. Those years after the M branding were horrible and she could never really explain why. She still throws parties, organizes festivals, and talks to damn near anyone who will listen. Look at my art! Look at my library! Listen to how much I know! Let me tell you how lovely you are! Look at my scares! Look at my hair! Look at me haha, please, please look at me.

GHOSTS. NOPE. No. NO. Fuck ALL of that noise. Stay dead, go to hell, eat a dick. Red Jessica is a scientist and superstitious atheist. As an academic and somewhat bi-cultural woman she simply thinks there are far too many religions with far too much history for any of them to be considered The One True Thing You Must Believe Or ElseTM and she tends to not truly believe anything until she finds some kind of proof. Shes not afraid of the unknown, shes thrilled by it. She’s not afraid of death or the afterlife, that’s beyond her control. She’s only superstitious because she does believe in and value luck, and also its a bit of a cultural habit. BUT IF SOME SHIT STARTS MOVING ON ITS OWN OR IF SHE SEES SOME BULLSHIT IN THE CORNER OF HER EYE THEN SHE IS OUT OF THERE. OUTIE 5000. She has heard the tales of lost souls from purgatory or the eternally ravenous Pret or dangerous Phi Tai Hong or the tragic and startling Banshees or the creepy Santa Compana and she wouldn’t believe a word of it where it not for one thing. SHE FUCKING SAW ONE. She’ll never forget it, it was the first and last time she EVER attempted to plunder a tomb all Skyrim style and at first she thought it was one of the crewmean being creepy as shit until she got a good look and he was SEE THROUGH AS SHIT AND SKINNY AS FCUK AND SHE GOT LITERALLY CHASED THE FUCK OUT OF THAT JOINT. She does not CARE that some ghosts are just apparitions she does not CARE that some are friendly and trying to warn her of something if you are MOVING and DEAD at the SAME time get FUCKED. If any of y’all cringe try-hards bring a Ouija board to the party you are getting SENT HOME and BLOCKED. NO CAP.

Three Goals:

She really only has one left. Listen its... almost 1am and ive been typing since like 5pm i think i covered goals somewhere in here but ive gotta throw in the towel but even then I’m kinda being serious. Her only remaining goal is to find a suitable heir of some kind. She wants what she’s built to fall into worthey hands but she could never seem to find a good parter and even when she did she couldn’t sustain a pregnancy ( you’d think that would be a huge deal but it hardly mattered to her oddly ). So at 50 the option of having kids is out but there’s still plenty of hope for either adoption or a protege. But then again, she’s so busy these days that she hardly prioritizes it like she wants to.

holy shit i need some water...

#i.... i did it.. its done.. its DONE #...this took my entire saterday #i will literally pay yall actuall dollars to read all of this please... it took so long i dont want it to be for nothing qwq #x; EVER PLAYED CRAZY EIGHTS? { dash games }#x; QUITE THE PIRATE GAL { portrait }#x; WHY AREN'T YOU A CLEVER ONE? { meta }

9 notes · View notes

cupcakemolotov · 3 years

Text

Fall With You

I ended up pinch hitting for the exchange! It was fun, if slightly wild 48 hours to put this together. Written for the lovely @queencarolinemikaelson. I’m really glad you enjoyed it since it ended up being a fluff fest of roommate co-hab. Also a big thank you to @bellemorte180 for putting this graphic together!

I put the first but under a cut, bit under a cut, but the full story is almost 9K, so the link to the story is at the bottom. :)

Summary: When life throws her a curve ball in the form of her good looking, yet moody roommate, Caroline takes it in stride as best she can. Her living situation was a favor, after all, and rent is anything but cheap in NYC. Its the part where she actually starts to like him that she can't quiet figure out how to manage. Lust was one thing, but feelings?

Warnings: Alternate Universe; Alternate; Universe - Human; Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates; Minor Character Death; not otp; Family Drama; Family Dynamics; Fluff and Humor; Domestic Fluff; Tooth-Rotting Fluff; Mild Smut; Human Caroline Forbes; Human Klaus Mikaelson; Living Room Picnics; Wine; Dates That Aren't Dates; They Could Really Get Their Shit Together Faster; but not really; Making Out; Some petting; NSFW just to be safe

It was almost three am, her feet were killing her, and her key was stuck in her front door.

Seriously, what was with her luck today? The door had always been finicky, but until earlier this week the lock had been behaving itself. It’d gone from not wanting to turn properly to straight up mutiny in four days. It was an easy fix, unlike the door, but it also required a trip to the store and she just hadn’t had time. Amazon could have delivered the powdered graphite, but she was on a budget and believed in shopping local.

Her two year savings plan to finish her degree would not manifest itself if she bought things simply because they were convenient.

Squeezing her eyes shut, Caroline seriously considered just leaning up against the door jam and spending the night outside. It was early summer, and the air had cooled to a balmy sixty-five degrees, leaving the usually stifling hallway almost comfortable. If only she didn’t smell so heavily of beer. Shifting her weight, she winced as her shoes squelched, a reminder of the truly spectacular ending to her night. Her eight hour shift had almost doubled when the night shift manager had called in sick. Usually that wouldn’t have been a problem, but the only other person with keys was out of town leaving Caroline holding the bag to close.

She knew from experience that she had about an hour before she crashed, the rush from kicking out the lingering guests who had been clearly on an epic brawl crawl having mostly faded after the hour long subway ride home. Right then, the only thing keeping her upright was the fact that she was starving, her dinner had been rushed and only half eaten, and the knowledge that if she made it into her apartment she had the next two days off. Tomorrow she could sleep in, and if she was really lucky, her roommate’s night had gone well enough he could be coaxed into making pancakes.

Cheered by the thought, Caroline dug out her cell phone from the backpack she’d slung over her shoulder and checked it for a response. She hadn’t been sure if Klaus had beaten her home or if he was still out celebrating, but either way, he hadn’t bothered to respond yet. Her lips compressed into a thin line.

Usually, she could depend on Klaus to be awake when she finished a night shift, her roommates' hours were only reliable on how sporadic they were and depending on her schedule, hers weren’t much better. But with his big event tonight, she had no idea what he had decided to do. Honestly, would it kill the man to respond to her texts?

She’d expected him to ignore her rapidly typed apology and well wishes she’d sent in-between bites of food. Klaus wasn’t particularly good at handling sentiment of any kind and supremely anti-emoji, and she’d made a point to send several of them. She’d hoped it’d give him something to be annoyed about that wasn’t his evening plans. He needed to schmooze, and a scowl-y Klaus would not accomplish that at all.

He could be charming, when he wanted to be. She’d seen it. He just didn’t deploy full dimples unless he wanted something. Her reminders the night before that he needed to earn his half of the rent without getting carpal tunnel hadn't impressed him.

Too bad. She’d been right, and he’d known it.

He had mentioned a couple of his friends were trying to talk him into drinks afterwards, back when she had thought she might be able to join him. Usually, she would be thrilled that he was getting out and actually seeing people instead of trying to live off granola bars and tea. But right then she really wanted him to be home and grumpy so he could unlock the door. She wondered if texting Marcel with an S.O.S would be rude?

Things were a lot less complicated when she only liked Klaus for the rent he helped cover. Wanting him home, even just for a lock-related emergency wasn’t a thought she would have had even six months ago. Klaus was not what one would label as a comfortable roommate for most of the time. He was far too prickly for that, and he could be snarly in the mornings. Which fair, so could she, but the moodiness. Caroline hadn’t been one to spend much time around the art scene, either at Uni or in high school, but she’d spent the last year learning that there was a lot to be said about artistic temperaments, most of it unflattering.

She was fairly certain Klaus had been born a contrary grump, his winning personality had nothing to do with his chosen profession, she could certainly see how he’d been drawn to the lifestyle, talent aside. Most people immediately laughed off his acerbic tongue once they learned he was an artist, his behavior brushed aside as temperamental. His goods certainly helped his cause, and his accent added a layer of charm that otherwise might not have existed.

She was not so forgiving.

The first few months of their co-hab had not been easy. Klaus was messy, absent minded, and had ruined three of her towels with paint splatter before she’d blown her lid. The apartment was small enough that avoiding each other was nearly impossible, and her preferred kind of stress relief had to be timed for when she was alone, and so they’d been forced to deal with their annoyances. To Klaus’ credit, while he’d been snappish in return, he’d somehow managed to keep a lid on the worst of his temper.

They’d argued, multiple times, they were both stubborn and used to being right, but they’d eventually found some kind of middle ground. Snapping had softened into bickering, and Caroline had stopped nitpicking him about his notebooks being spread across the house and the incorrect way he rolled his toothpaste, and he stopped leaving towels on the floor and made a point to contain his absentminded mess to his room.

And then they started to talk, sometimes about work, sometimes about art, and she’d realized she kind of liked him as a person. She’d started dragging him to her group lunches on her days off, much to Rebekah’s despair, and they might have become something like friends. Except for the part where every so often, she’d look at him and something about the way he stood, the angle of his jaw or the line of his throat left her wanting to jump his bones.

It was really frustrating, when her existence didn’t even seem to phase him.

So she’d done her best to ignore whatever that little spark was between them when it flared up, and not upset the status quo. Because the past year had been better than she could have imagined. Before her mom had died, she would never have considered the life she found herself living now as a good one.

She’d just wrapped her third year at NYU, had exactly 24 hours of classes left before graduation, and had managed to wrangle her schedule so that her final semester would be a cake walk of classes. The cherry on top had been the kick ass internship she’d lined up for the summer. Her five year plan was perfectly on track, her excellent grades gave her a shot at graduating with honors, and she couldn’t wait to show her mom around New York City from the eyes of a local. She’d spent three years putting together a binder, collecting menus from her favorite places to eat and brochures from all the museums and the jam packed tourists locations to offer her mom some variety.

Then she’d gotten that phone call that had thrown everything into a tale spin.

Blowing out a breath, Caroline bounced on her toes and debated best her course of action. She could probably get her key out of the lock if she was very careful, though the past twenty minutes said her luck wasn’t great, Forbes women were nothing if not stubborn, but there was also a chance she would break the key off in the lock and she could already see the little smirk on Klaus’ face if she did. Her hand tightened on the strap of her backpack. He still hadn’t forgiven her for being far more comfortable with power tools than he was and her perfectly reasonable gloating probably hadn’t helped much, if she was honest.

She kind of didn’t regret it. Poking Klaus sizable ego was a favorite past time of hers, and he seemed to enjoy their back and forth as much as she did. Her mental tally had her up two points this month, and she wanted to keep her lead.

Unfortunately, things weren’t really going in her favor just then. Sighing, Caroline tucked her phone back into her bag and admitted defeat. She’d have to figure this one out herself. Either Klaus’ event had run long and he had actually taken her advice to schmooze people or he was home and had drunk enough that he was sleeping like the dead.

Either of those options would not help her now.

Her best bet now was to go and eat a giant piece of pie, drink her weight in caffeine, and trudge her way to the little mom and pop shop that sold a little of everything, including graphite, once it became a reasonable hour. She’d fix her lock and then crash for the following eight hours of hopefully uninterrupted sleep, and leave a very pointed sticky note on the coffee pot so Klaus knew not to disturb her.

Satisfied with the makings of her plan, she shifted her backpack to her other shoulder, mentally reviewing the pie menu, and paused when the elevator dinged from behind her. Sliding her teeth between her lip, Caroline turned and blew out a breath when she recognized the tumble of ruffled curls stepping into the hall. The hallway was dimly lit, so it took a moment for her brain to really understand what else she was seeing.

Klaus was wearing a tux.

Logically, she’d known he was going to be wearing one. His event that night had been important, his work had finally made it into a gallery tonight and it was a Big Deal. His first real show outside of the fancy art school he had attended, and he had spent months fretting over his work and brooding silently in his room as nothing met his incredibly exacting standards. Klaus had even brought home a couple of canvas to work in the questionable light of his bedroom instead of the small studio space he and five other artists pooled their money to share.

Much to her annoyance.

No amount of febreeze really removed the scent of acrylics and turpentine, and she’d been worried if she tried to burn her stash of scented candles something would catch on fire. She’d held her tongue though, because Klaus was never nervous. He was in fact annoyingly difficult to rattle even in the most ridiculous of situations, the man had absolutely no shame, and the way he’d almost jittered had been weird and kind of enduring. Since he’d seen her in numerous states of frantic and alarmed, it was nice for things to end up on a little more even ground for once. She’d done her best to force him to eat something that looked like actual food every so often, and tried to stay quiet when she knew he was working in his bedroom.

She’d even helped him pick out the tuxedo from the catalogue he’d brought home from the store he had planned to rent from. There was a fancy evening gown that she’d rented hanging in her closet that Caroline had planned to wear to go with him before work had made that impossible. But knowing all that, and actually seeing him in that tux were not nearly the same thing.

Caroline blinked rapidly. Her paint speckled roommate, with his surly attitude and annoying dimples, was wearing a tux. And he looked really, really good. He’d undone his tie so it hung loosely around his neck, and his jacket was loose and unbuttoned around his waist, his curls still somewhat tamed along his forehead. Something very much like arousal jolted through her as he looked up, the low light highlighting the scruff along his jaw and the length of his neck. For a moment, he just stared at her, as surprised as she and then his head tipped and his brow arched, lips tugging up at the corners.

“Waiting on me?”

The rest can be found here: A03

#my fic #klaroline #klaroline fanfiction #exchange fic

36 notes · View notes

silverwhiteraven · 3 years

Text

Wings of Broken White - Ch. 3

Tag List: @marichatmay

[ Posted on Ao3 ] [ Chapter 1 ] [ Chapter 2 ] [ Chapter 4 ]

[ Summary: Literal and Metaphorical dirt. ]

Hawkmoth had learned the lesson Monarch did not. Do not mix the positive power of a Blessing with negative emotions. Instead, enhance those negative emotions with the power of something else. Let his Champions be fueled by the opposite of a Blessing, something that haunts and feasts on darkness.

Give them Demons; give them an Akuma.

But still. He knew that he had to pick carefully what emotions he harnessed and the people behind them. Hawkmoth couldn’t afford to lose control of another Champion. And Gabriel refused to risk his son.

So he bided his time, researching and studying whatever he could. And while he waited, he built his public empire, funding his underground renovations and the care needed to keep his wife healthy.

Still alive, Emilie was kept that way in a chemically induced coma to prevent further deterioration. To the public, she was missing. In private, she was under the care of doctors from the world’s best medical center, Mayo Clinic.

Adrien would have been aware of her whereabouts were it not for the mistake and loss of control over Monarch’s Blessing. Gabriel had delayed telling his son the truth, and now there was no way to tell what would happen if he knew; what powers White Rose had truly gained beyond what was originally planned.

The thing is, Hawkmoth would have never surfaced if Gabriel could have prevented it. He was ready to let his wife go. But he still needed to find a way to remove the Blessing from Adrien, so he continued to use the Butterfly Miraculous, continued learning about it and the others.

But Adrien just had to go missing one early morning, barely before the sun had risen. Gabriel couldn't find him, neither could Adrien’s ever-present bodyguard. So in an act of desperation, Hawkmoth was brought to be. He then Akumatized the worried and protective bodyguard, granting him an ability to track down their shared ward.

This only furthered things along and also put them to a grinding stop.

The wielders of the Ladybug and Black Cat Miraculous arose to combat Hawkmoth’s Champion. Rather than admit why he was using the Butterfly in a dark way, he decided to reveal his last-ditch plan that he thought he would never bring himself to use, anyways.

He demanded their Miraculous. He was glad they refused, because he would not trust anyone so willing to give up such dangerous powers so easily instead of using them to protect.

So while plans to experiment with the use of Akumas were furthered, it was the mix of one Blessing and one Hero that halted everything.

Paris had very few albino citizens. It would be almost too easy to track down the potential civilian identities of Chat Blanc. But those white wings tipped in blue, so similar yet so contrasting to the black Starling wings of a younger Adrien? There was no way to deny such a similarity. And the Black Cat Miraculous itself would not change it’s own color scheme on a whim, either. Monarch himself had experimented with designs and color palettes, learning that only significant enchantments and magical interference could cause anything even a noticeable difference, not to mention such an extreme as turning Black to White.

The last nail in that theory's coffin was how Hawkmoth could feel the whispers of the Blessing influencing Chat Blanc. Certainly, it could have been a much older Blessing from a previous Butterfly Holder, but Gabriel highly doubted such coincidences could stack like this.

So, Gabriel accepted the facts. He felt heartbroken for his son that had to fight him, even if Chat Blanc didn’t know who he was fighting behind Hawkmoth’s mask. But he was so proud of him, too. Monarch’s Champion White Rose was doing what he was meant to; protect others from the harm of the Miraculous. And Gabriel’s son Adrien was free to be happy, as happy as he never was when inside the Agreste mansion, even when Emilie was still walking its halls. So Gabriel and Hawkmoth did nothing more than play his part as the fatherly villain.

He really didn’t mind how long it would take for it all to come to a close.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Despite her semi-disastrous first time as Ladybug, Marinette rather enjoyed the side-job.

Akuma’s were few and far between, and oftentimes could be talked down instead of fought head to head. Their abilities oftentimes got dangerous, yes, but Ladybug and Chat Blanc, not to mention the rest of Paris, were more than thankful that their Supervillain seemed to have at least some sort of moral code. He would prevent Akumatized villains from causing mass amounts of damage. Once, he had even taken back the powers and the Akuma that granted them, all because the Champion he had made was being unreasonably dangerous to innocent civilians.

Sometimes, she swore Hawkmoth would Akumatize students just so the whole district would have to let school out early due to the emergency. Maybe he had a soft spot for kids, maybe a child of his own? Either way, she appreciated the breaks.

Soon enough, a whole six months had passed since Hawkmoth first appeared.

The most recent attack had been earlier that evening. Marinette had to distract her Akumatized friend Nathaniel. He was akumatized because of Chloé. She had made fun of his art, at first. Then, to make things worse, she told him that he was right to have his and his boyfriend Marc’s hero-sonas to both be wingless, because the ones Nathaniel had were ‘wasted on his talentless existence’ and ‘if Marc wasn’t already wingless, then they would be utterly useless on him, too’. In general, it was a rather nasty scene.

Marinette had been quick to tell her to back off and leave Nathaniel and Marc alone. Adrien has sprung up right after her, telling Chloé not to talk to his friends like that, and even if she is his oldest friend he wasn't okay with her actions.

Marinette was proud of Adrien for standing up for others in the face of someone important to him. It was brave.

Unfortunately, their combined efforts didn’t prevent the Akumatization. Luckily, Evillustrator wasn’t a bad villain, he just really wanted to mess with Chloé with revenge-pranks.

Marinette got herself caught up in it by distracting him with other ideas. For example, using his power to create objects to set up a date with Marc. Chat Blanc had shown up part way into the setup of said date, and as a way to prevent Evillustrator from starting a fight, she had roped him into helping with the decoration ideas and music selection. He turned out to be a natural with romantic set-ups, and an even smoother talker, convincing Evillustrator to hand over his Akumatized item in exchange for them escorting Marc to the date’s location.

Marinette had managed to step away long enough while Blanc went to find Marc to transform into Ladybug, and called for her Lucky Charm just in case. It was nothing more than a red rose and she laughed happily to have a simple item with obvious intentions.

When Blanc returned, she showed herself and offered the rose to her partner, trying not to be flustered by her own romantic gesture. “Hold this for me, Kitty? I need to make sure their date goes well, and that means Nathaniel has to be here for it. Don’t want yours and Marinette's efforts to go to waste, now do we?”

Then, she took the Akumatized item from Blanc and broke it, purifying the butterfly within.

“What about the Lucky Charm?” Chat Blanc looked a tad confused. “As soon as you call for Miraculous Ladybug, everything Evillustrator made will disappear. Their date will go poof!”

Ladybug smiled knowingly. “Already thought that through. You hold on to that rose, okay? Or maybe let Nathaniel hold it? As long as I can find it again later, just make sure it’s safe. I’ll use Miraculous Ladybug long after their date is over, so nothing will get spoiled. Gotta go, Bug out!”

She returned to the scene as Marinette once more, finding a de-Akumatized Nathaniel on a successful date with Marc, and Chat Blanc still watching over them, happy for the couple. Satisfied, she made her way home, away from the setting sun.

Now, it was completely dark out and Marinette was drinking a thermos of hot chocolate on her balcony, wrapped in a warm blanket. The quiet night got interrupted by a shadow moving over the rooftops, followed by white boots lightly thumping onto her balcony. She sat up, surprised to see Chat Blanc still lurking about the city. He bowed theatrically with a gentle smile.

“Princess, what a lovely evening to see you! I presume I have found you safe and happy in your tower tonight?”

Marinette couldn't help but laugh. “You saw me maybe two hours ago, pretty-gryphlet, you know I’m perfectly fine.”

“True, but as your loyal, trustworthy, and handsome White Knight, I am obliged to check on you anyways.” He had bowed again and taken her hand, kissing the air above her knuckles ceremoniously. She had to fight back both her blush and her wing’s desire to flutter bashfully where they were hidden under the blanket.

“Silly gryphlet,” she smiled, before noticing his gloves were stained and had left some of it on her fingers. Then she noticed the dark spots on his boots and knees as well. She frowned in confusion, inspecting what was on her hand. “Why are you covered in dirt?”

“That dirty little secret,” he deflected the question easily with his pun and a cheeky smile, “I will explain soon. But first, I gotta ask, why do you call me ‘pretty Griflet’? I already know I look amazing, but is Griflet a reference to one of the knights of the Round Table? If so, I am honored to have such recognition.”

Marinette laughed and shook her head. “No, not a knight, a gryphon. You know, a mythological creature with the body of a lion and the wings of an eagle? You’re a cat, and you have wings, hence, gryphlet!” She explained proudly, before realizing how embarrassing it was to nickname one of the local Superheroes and retreated into her blanket.

Chat Blanc blinked owlishly at her explanation, but soon a smile bloomed on his face, and she could swear he was blushing under his mask.

“I like it,” he said softly, looking gentle and earnest.

“S-So anyways! Blanc Chat, I mean, Chat Blanc, I uh, You say were? Were saying? About the, uhm, dirt?” She turned away, grabbing her thermos to keep her hands busy.

“Oh! Right!” He brightened even more, his eyes starting to look like that of an excited kitten. “Come with me somewhere, Princess? I know it’s cold out so I won’t keep you long, but I wanted to show you something.”

She nodded, standing up and setting the thermos aside. Then she hesitated, once more remembering her wings. “I...Blanc, can you keep a secret for me?”

“Of course, what is it?” He looked curious and just so innocent. She couldn’t do it.

“Uh, never mind, next time, okay? I don’t think I’m ready. To say anything, I mean, not that I don’t want to see what you want to show me, but also I’m not ready to go yet for that either, wait, i meant-!” She closed her mouth with a snap, sucking in a breath and letting it out slowly. “What I mean is, let me just get something from my room real quick? I should really put on shoes and something warmer than pajamas. Then we can go!”

“Of course! I’ll be here when you’re done.” Oh Kwami, he was so patient with her, and understanding, too. Could he get any nicer, she wondered?

She fumbled her way back into her room, swiftly putting on a wing-binder, thick white leggings, and a warm long-sleeved baby blue dress. She remembered to grab some shoes, too. As she climbed back up to the balcony, she tried to ignore the fact that she had chosen to wear colors close to Chat Blanc’s. From the look on his face, he was probably trying not to think about it too much, either. “Ready, Marinette?”

“Ready. So uhm, how are we going to get there?” she shuffled on her feet, hands fidgeting.

He grabbed the thermos she had set down and put it into her hands, warming them, and subsequently her cheeks, too.

Politely he asked, “Permission to carry you?”

“Granted? Wait, carry? Like, on your back carry or- Woah!” He answered by sweeping her into a classic princess carry. “Uh, works, I guess, this does? I mean- Okay,” she finally squeaked out.

He chuckled and held her securely, but gentle. “Let’s not waste time. Hold on tight!”

She didn't scream dramatically when he jumped from her balcony, but she also won't admit she might have squeaked again from the unfamiliar feeling of jumping over rooftops while untransformed, let alone while being carried.

But the trip to their destination really was rather short, as only a couple minutes later he was setting her back down on her own two feet.

The rooftop was surrounded by decorative iron fencing. Candles, protected from the wind in glass jars, lined the top of the railing and between the bars. What really caught her eyes, however, where the Lily-of-the-Valley flowers spread around decoratively. She couldn't help but gape at them. The scene was gorgeous, and she wondered why Chat Blanc had brought her here. Did he do this? Was this why he was covered in dirt? She turned to him where he stood looking almost nervous for her reaction.

“Chat...It’s beautiful. Did you set this up? Did you get these flowers yourself?”

He perked up, glad to see she wasn’t reacting badly. “I did. I also learned I’m a really bad gardener,” he chuckled, and she smiled, amused. “And don’t worry, I didn’t steal any of this stuff, it was all mine already. Well, sort of. The candles were my Mother’s, and I use them sometimes. The flowers came from our yard- They would have died soon anyways, the brief warm spell this week made them bloom too early, so I thought I might as well put them to use. So, you like it, Marinette?”

She giggled and nodded, looking away shyly. “Why set all this up, anyways? Special night?”

He nodded, his own gaze shy as well. “Sort of? Ladybug trusted me with something. And earlier today, this amazing girl I know helped me take down an Akuma. So I wanted to prove I can be trusted with Ladybug’s thing, while also getting to show that amazing girl how much I appreciated her, even if it is only for a little bit. Here,” he stepped to the side, bringing Marinette’s curious gaze to a small table she hadn't noticed before.

It had a few more candles and flowers on it, but there was a delicate vase in the center. She quietly gasped as she noticed the red rose, Ladybug’s Lucky Charm, sitting in the vase. Chat Blanc plucked it from its place and held it out to her.

“For the most creative and wonderful Princess in all of Paris,” he smiled, bowing as he presented the rose. He chuckled sheepishly, then, “Well, you can’t keep it forever, because it is Ladybug’s, but I figured that if anyone was worthy of keeping it safe until she needed it, that person would be you.”

Dumbfounded and flustered into silence, Marinette accepted the rose with her free hand.

“Well, I guess I should take you back home now, huh?” He asked awkwardly.

“O-Oh, uh, sure,” she agreed, still distracted as she held the red rose close to her chest.

This time, she was prepared for him to lift her, and she stayed quiet on their way back to her balcony. This time, she noticed how warm he was and just how easy it was to trust him even as a civilian. She wouldn't admit to being sad when he set her down again, though.

“Until next time, Princess; I hope to see you again,” once more he took her hand and gave the air over her knuckles a kiss, but before he could let go, she clutched his fingers tight, pulling his attention up to her eyes.

“Uhm- It’s cold out, and I barely touched my hot chocolate anyways.” She turned his hand over and set her thermos into his palm. “Take it with you. You can return it, next time we meet.”

He beamed at her and nodded. “It’s a date,” he winked teasingly, and she giggled. “See you later, then. Have a goodnight, Princess.”

And just like that, he was gone, and Marinette was left a blushing mess on her balcony until Tikki finally came out and told her to go to bed.

In the morning, the red rose was still where she left it on her desk, proving the night before was no dream. Tikki then informed her that it had slushed a bit while she slept, so she should be careful when she goes outside.

Ladybug went off in the early morning to check on Evillustrator’s reactions, only to find that they had been washed away by the sleet. It seemed that just like all other forms of art, even the magical creations of an Akuma were susceptible to the natural elements when exposed long enough.

So that morning, Ladybug returned an intact Lucky Charm to Marinette’s room, and Marinette got to keep the gift of an everlasting red rose.

#marichatmay2021 #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #chat blanc #marichat #ml wing au #wing-binding #willowbendt

18 notes · View notes