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roscgcld · 3 years

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GOJO SATORU || ends of the earth

request: can i request a scenario where Gojo and non-shaman!F!reader are on their first date, and they visit the beach to watch the sunset, and gojo suggests they head near the water to dip their feet in for bit because why not? turns out f!reader has a phobia of the ocean due to an incident when she was younger, which is a shocker bc f!reader appears to be very confident and fearless and independent . at first, gojo finds this sorta funny, but after seeing the severity of her fear, he tries to help her conquer her it. she climbs his back as he heads towards the shallow end of the ocean, just where the oceans crashes on the shore (after a lot of convincing on gojo’s part). 🥺🥺🥺💕💕💕 just something really fluffy while showing the goofy side of gojo, and his soft and considerate side! thank you!!!!

note: honestly, i love this idea honestly cx this is so cute - i can see gojo doing this for his lover if she is scared cx it’s very fluffy and such a fun thing to write for c: also I changed it so that they are both dating for awhile, since i struggled a lot writing it the other way around lol cx but i think this isn’t that bad??? so i hope you don’t mind~

pronouns: she/her

The smell of the ocean was the first thing that hit your senses once you got out of your car, glancing over at your boyfriend to see him smiling widely at the sight of the quiet beach before you two. Today will be the first time in awhile that you get to see your boyfriend, with him busy being a sorcerer fighting curses across Japan. Because of this, you two decided that a date was in order.

Hence why you two found yourselves at a beach after you two made some simple picnic food to eat. “God, I can’t remember the last time I saw a beach.”

“Don’t make yourself sound so old.” You said with a soft smile as you grabbed the beach mat whilst he grabbed the basket with the food you prepared, Gojo just giving you a cheeky smile in response as he lowered his sunglasses a little, revealing his beautiful glowing blue eyes over the round rims of his sunglasses. “You love me regardless.” Was his simple response, to which you just raise an eyebrow at him before you locked the car behind the both of you. “I’ll let you think that’s the case then.”

Ignoring his dramatic gasp, you made your way down the entrance of the beach, walking down the steps leading towards the sandy beach. If you were being honest, if you had a choice, you wouldn’t have chosen the beach to have your date at. When you were younger, a huge wave had swept you out to sea once; and if it wasn’t for a nearby surfer who heard your mother’s cries for help, you would have drowned. Ever since then, you had never stepped a foot into the ocean anymore.

However, you’ve never told your boyfriend this fact. Maybe it was because it didn’t come up, or maybe it’s because you were embarrassed - but you’ve never told him that you had an insane fear of the ocean. Hence why now, while you watched him try to pick the best spot to have a nice picnic by the beach together, you were trying to not show how nervous and awkward you were as you stood on the warm sand.

You had wanted to say something to him about the beach, but when you saw how excited he got at the idea to visit somewhere as simple as a beach, the words got stuck in your mouth. Since you weren’t in swimwear, you had decided that there was no harm just sitting on the coast. So, you swallowed you anxieties and walked towards your excited boyfriend, helping him set the beach mat down before you two settle down on the slightly rough and scratchy surface of the beach mat.

Soon the food was unwrapped and you two were laughing and joking with one another as you slowly went through the sandwiches you made from home. Besides the simple cold cut sandwiches, there was also the strawberry sando that Gojo had begged for you to make earlier. “See, isn’t this nice?” Gojo grinned as he looked over at you, dressed in a simple shirt and a pair of shorts, his skin seeming to glow underneath the slowly setting sun in the horizon. You could barely take your eyes away from how gorgeous and effortless he looks just sitting there, eating his sandwich.

You swear it wasn’t fair how perfect he was.

“You say this when you drag me away from work to cuddle you on the couch.” You commented back with a soft grin as you raised the chilled bottle of milk tea you had purchased at the petrol station when you were filling up on petrol. Gojo hums at the memory as he grins over at you, grabbing a tissue to wipe his mouth clean. “Princcess, you should know how much I enjoy spending any time I can with you.” He said with an innocent shrug, to which you just smiled at him warmly, knowing that underneath the teasing tone was him telling you the truth.

It made your heart warm, but you didn’t miss the chance to tease him a little. “And here I thought Mr Playboy Gojo will never settle down.” You tossed back teasingly, remember how Ieiri had mentioned that you had somehow managed to tame the flirtatious and womaniser Gojo when you first met his long time friend and co worker. Gojo just grins before he leans over to peck your lips softly, causing a light flush to travel up to your cheeks at how spontaneous that kiss was.

“Well, what idiot would let such an amazing woman slip through his fingers?”

His words caused your blush to deepen as you reached over to push his face away from yours, trying to hide your blush behind your free hand as he laughs and kisses your palm gently. With that the both of you returned to your food, slowly making your way through the rest of it. Then sunset had started to paint the beach in an array of beautiful colours just as you were packing up the rest of your cutlery.

Gojo tosses the tissues back into the basket as his sapphire blue eyes now on full display as he enjoys the sunset. “Princess, leave the basket for a bit.” He suddenly said as he looks over at you, causing you to pause as you tighten the bottle of half finished milk tea in your hands. “I want to walk along the water for a bit, the water looks extra nice today. And if I had an extra pair of clothes, I would have jumped in awhile go.” He ranted as he got up, dusting his shorts off; and somehow completely not noticing how you froze in fear at the idea of going to the water.

At first Gojo didn’t notice that you didn’t up with him until he was half way towards the shore when he realised that you aren’t behind him. Looking back curiously, he noticed how you seem to be frozen on the beach mat. “Hello? Earth to Y/N?” He called back to you with a confused frown, which only deepen when he realised that you looked too pale for his liking. At first he had no idea what was wrong with you until something clicked in his head, causing him to frown even more.

When Gojo firs met you, he admired the fact that you were fearless. You do not have Cursed Energy, yet you are able to see Curses - which was how Gojo saved you from becoming the next target of a Second Grade Curse. Well, when he got there you were handling yourself well - smacking the monster like Second Grade with your frilly pink umbrella, yelling at how it should ‘keep your disgustingly slimy and wet hands off my clean sweats’ while you assaulted the poor Curse. You weren’t doing much damage, yet at the same time the Curse was completely terrified of you to actually make a move.

Gojo actually watched for a few moments before going over to help you, asking how were you planning to exorcise the curse with your pink umbrella. Only to barely dodge you smacking his head with it. It was that moment when he knew you were the one though.

So you can’t blame him at how confused he was at to why someone who is brave enough to attack a Curse without a weapon looked terrified of the lightly crashing waves of the ocean. “Hey.”

Your eyes snapped towards a pair of glowing blue eyes, blinking rapidly as you tried to calm you slightly erratic breathing. However, you can never hide from your observant boyfriend, who frowns even more before he takes your shaking hands in his. “Y/N, are you afraid of the ocean?” He asked you in a soft voice, to which you just made a face before quietly looking away, as if you didn’t want to answer his question. Yet that alone gave him the answer he needed to know. “Princess, why didn’t you tell me? We could have went somewhere else if you are scared.”

Immediately your eyes looked over at his for a moment before looking down at your lap once more. “I just...you looked so happy, asking to come to the beach.” You mumble quietly, trying to take your hands back from his so you can fumble with your fingers out of habit. Gojo stopped that, squeezing your fingers between his as he tries to catches you gaze; realises that you were actively avoiding it. Eventually he lets your hands go in favour of cupping your face in his hands, forcing your eyes to look up at him.

“Y/N...you should never force yourself to do something you’re not comfortable with.” Gojo mumbles softly with a frown, to which you just bite your lip before you glanced away from his ever knowing eyes - knowing that deep down he was right. “You should never put yourself through something you’re not comfortable with, even if it’s for me.” He mumbles with a soft frown, to which you just let out a soft but shaky sigh, leaning forward to bury your face into his chest.

“But you always do so much for me..”

For a moment there was just silence before you felt Gojo nudging the side of your face with his nose, causing you to look up at him with nervous eyes. “I’ve got an idea.” He commented with a soft smile, something that was rare for you to see on his face as well. This caused you to raise a curious eyebrow as he grinned softly, an eyebrow raised as well. “Why don’t we try and overcome your fear together?”

It took a lot of convincing, and a lot of whines and blushes on your end before you agreed to get on his back. His plan? He plans to walk towards the end of the ocean with you on his back. He promises that he wasn’t going to drop you, and if he did, he’ll buy you bubble tea from the bubble tea store near your apartment. However, it took him giving you puppy eyes before you allowed him to turn your back to him; wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders tightly as you buried your tensed face into his neck.

The soft rumble of Gojo’s chuckle caused you to blush hard, gently kicking your foot out in frustration at him seeming to laugh at you as he started to walk towards the shore. “Cutie.” You heard him mumble softly, which had your heart skipping a beat once more and the blush on your cheeks to darken.

A few more steps and soon you heard the sound of the waves gently crashing onto the shore, causing a shiver of fear to slice through you as you tighten your grip around your boyfriend. “Loosen up, princess. You’re about to choke me.” Gojo said with an amused tone in his voice as he took another step forward, his feet resting on the wet sand beneath them as he tosses you an amused smirk. “We can definitely play tonight if you want.”

His words caused you to blush hard as you pulled your face out of his neck to glare at him murderously, only to be distracted by the crashing waves that were around you. Immediately you clammed up once more as you buried your face back into his neck once more; your entire body shaking from the fear. This cause Gojo’s teasing words to stop at the tip of his tongue as he tighten his grip on your legs, feeling bad that you looked so scared of the ocean. “We can go back if you want.”

At first you thought about it before you shook your head slowly, taking a few deep breaths to calm your pounding heart. “You sure, princess?” Gojo asks you in a calm yet soft tone, waiting for you to give him another nod before he smiles softly. “Alright. I’ll just stand here. You can look up when you’re ready.” He said simply, letting you know that he was just going to just stand here until you’re ready to look up.

It took awhile, but slowly you inched your eyes up to look up at the horizon before you. Only to have your breath taken away at the sight of the sun now setting at the horizon, the warm sunlight panting the world in an array of pinks, oranges, yellows and reds. You watched in awe at how the soft waves seem to reflect the sunset perfectly, creating a beautiful scene before you. The fear you felt inside slowly started to melt away as you watch the scene before you in awe, entrance by something as beautiful as a sunset by the ocean.

You were so distracted that you didn’t notice how Gojo was watching you over his shoulder, love and adoration practically oozing from his very person as he tighten his protective grip around your legs. It was this moment that he vowed that no matter what, he is going to protect you with his entire person.

That you were worth going to the ends of the earth for. Because you are his everything.

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squishycheekanon · 3 years

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It’s Just Business - Two

Werewolf Steve Rodgers x reader

Warnings for the series: fluffness, Bucky and Sam bickering like five year olds, smutty smut, bad language.

“Alex!” Lara engulfed me in a hug, smiling brightly as she did.

“Lara. How are you?” I asked, my eyes flickering down to her round belly for a few moments. Seven months pregnant and she looked amazing. Her black hair up in a high ponytail. A fluffy dressing gown tied around her. Her light blue eyes sparkling.

“So happy now that you’re here. Thank goodness for your brother getting you out of there and away from your parents.” She grimaced at the thought of them, pulling me inside the house. Lara had been there for me as a big sister and I couldn’t ever repay her for it. Two older brothers is what I got, Sebastian the eldest at twenty-six and Jonathon twenty-four.

Bash is known as the golden boy, the distinguished politician. Played the part well, but if you knew him like I did, he was a crafty little shit that could do anything. Owns night clubs under a fake name. Some people joke and say he’s the head of a mob or something. I wouldn’t even be surprised if he admitted he was. Putting all that aside, he’s the most caring person you’ll ever meet.

JJ on the other hand, although caring, he cares in a different way. The magazines refer to him as ‘the ultimate party boy’ and god does he live up to the name. Too much freedom. Partying in every country he could, drinking rich people dry. Our parents never seemed to mind. Bash painted a pretty picture to the world that made them proud. Maybe I was wrong, but I always felt that because JJ wasn’t making his family proud, I was having to do it instead.

Not that I wasn’t bitter or anything...

“You’re tellin me.” I shook my head thinking of the recent news received from my father.

“What happened?” Her eyebrows furrowed as she closed the front door and ushered me up the big staircase towards one of their many guest rooms. Their house was more like a manor, the outside rustic and traditional, just like the main section of the house where the stairs sat so hugely. But the inside was more modern, I could never decide which one I preferred more. Placing my bag down on the big bed I began to explain everything to her.

“Now way! He can’t do that!” She began to rage. Flinging her arms about while I looked around the room. The headboard sat nicely up against the back wall, same wall the entrance door was on, to the left of the bed. The east wall had a closet built into it. The west was plain except for a painting of flowers in a vase sat dead centre of said wall. To the right of it, a door to the bathroom. And finally the south, a wall of windows with a sliding door in the middle.

“Actually he can.” I huffed.

“No.” Her statement was blunt. She marched out of the room and across the hall. “Sebastian!” Her voice echoed through the house and it brought a smile to my face. She always cared so much, even if I knew she couldn’t change anything, it was nice.

“What is it my dear wife?” Bash was dragged into the room by his spouse who repeated everything I said with anger.

“That sounds like dear old Dad.” Bash rolled his eyes patting my shoulder apologetically. His suit jacket was no where to be seen, shirt sleeves rolled up and his hair messy. Clear signs of a long day and a tired man.

“There has to be something we can do!” Lara wouldn’t let this go.

“There isn’t. Once father makes up his mind, there isn’t anything we can do to change it.” I nodded at my brothers truest words.

“Let’s not talk about it. I still have a few days of freedom left.” I let myself fall back onto the comfortable bed. The couple soon filed out of the bedroom leaving me to rest. As if I could. My mind was wide awake, I at least tried to sleep. Laying in bed staring at the ceiling. But the machine wouldn’t turn off, the cogs wouldn’t stop moving.

“This is ridiculous.” I rubbed my hands over my face.

Slipping out of the bed, my black night dress flowing while I walked closer to the big window wall. Pushing the sliding door open and stepping out onto the balcony to stare at the view. It was beautiful. Reminded of something out of a movie.

A giant lake with big pine trees and huge fir trees outlined the water. All of them merging together, I couldn’t tell where the forest line stop or started. A foggy smoke came from me with my deep breath. It was so cold, I barely felt it but I wrapped my arms around myself anyway as if by instinct. A loud howl sounded from somewhere in the middle of the forest. A creature, a fox? A wolf maybe? Whatever it was, it sounded lonely. The cry in the dark had me feeling sad for the poor thing.

“I get it. Being alone sucks.” I spoke into the darkness of the night. Feeling the breeze pull a shiver from my body, I made my way back inside the comfort of the room. I didn’t even think about it before leaving the door open and getting into bed. Somehow I was more relaxed with it open, I felt closer to something. Easily drifting off to sleep, the sound of the animal howling blurred into my dream land.

“Up you get lazy bones! Come on time to start your day.” Lara burst through the door yelling, before gasping in shock. “Did you leave the door open all night? It’s freezing in here.” She trudged towards the glass and slid it closed. I sat up and watched her do it.

“Yeah I guess I did.” I frowned slightly, it wasn’t exactly like me to feel at ease with a door wide open.

“Well wash up and come down for breakfast.” She placed a kiss on the top of my head and left leaving me wondering if this is what mothers were suppose to be like. Were they suppose to wake you up early so you made the most of your day? Were they suppose to make you breakfast? Or show you affection? It’s not exactly what I was used to. Nevertheless I got up, got dressed and had breakfast.

“So little sister, what are your plans for today?” Bash asked shoving a piece of toast in his mouth, identical to how he did when we were kids. A small smile pricked at my lips at the sight.

“I was gonna go for a walk, clear my head.” The married couple seemed to think it was a great idea, practically shoving me out the door.

There was fog all across the river this morning, although it wasn’t particularly cold out. The trees reminded me of when Bash, JJ and I used climb the big oak tree in the backyard and the boys got told off for encouraging me to be unlady like. The thought made me giggle, I was never lady like no matter how hard my mother tried to make me that way. I guess I just hated to be told what to do in any circumstance.

My knee high boots crushed leaves underneath them while I walked, I loved the sound. The crunch of nature. This walk had soothed me and I wasn’t even that far from the house yet. Everything here was so serene, so full of life. I wished I could stay here and forget everything. Just let everything go, all my resentment towards my parents, all the pressure of this stupid task.

He cleared his throat before I noticed him, stopping in my tracks to see the rugged blonde man from yesterday.

“S-Steve.” Why the hell was he here? How did he know I was?

“Alexandra.” My name rolled off his tongue bewitchingly. He looked so different than before, no smart shirt. Just a plain dark blue t-shirt seems he liked that colour. No dress pants this time, merely a pair of jeans.

“Are you stalking me or something? Did my father put you up to this?” I grumbled, slipping my hands into my leather jacket pockets. My stance was always kinda wide, feet at the same distance as shoulders, back straight, head up just as mother said. I don’t remember the last time I slouched. He seemed to give me a once over, stopping on my hips? “Uh eyes up here buddy.” His blue orbs shot up in surprise, his left eyebrow raised.

“There’s been a change of plans. You’re coming straight to me once you’re done here.” Rude much.

“Why isn’t my father telling me this himself?” I eyed his feet as he took a step forward, taking one back of my own.

“He’s busy. Asked me to deliver the message. A woman, Martha, she’s already packed your things and sent them over. Your room is being readied as we speak.” His muscles seemed to tense as he spoke. He held himself confidently yet the way his hands were stuffed in his jean pockets gave him this goofy undertone.

“I still have a few days here.” I tried to keep my voice as stable as I could. I really didn’t want to leave, but Steve seemed like the type to tattle to my Father. I had to go to this unknown place, alone and so fast too.

“I know.” He sighed before speaking again. “I don’t want your stay with me to be uncomfortable for you. I’ll try everything in my power to make you at ease.” He puffed out his chest almost showing off his strength.

“I doubt that.” I let my lip curl slightly. I didn’t give him time to respond, turning on my heel and walking back. A once peaceful morning was now a tense and unwanted one.

#alpha steve rogers #steve rodgers x y/n #steve rodgers imagine #steve rodgers x reader #steve rogers #Steve Rodgers #captain america #captain america x reader #marvel #werewolf x human #bucky barnes #sam wilson #werewolf #alpha #beta #wolf pack #Spotify

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emeraldinthesky · 2 years

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STRANGE TRAILS - Chapter 4 - Twists and turns

A/N: I'm sorry it took such a long time for the next chapter! I'm sad to have missed February 24th with posting this, but I hope it was worth the wait and you'll enjoy it. :)

’...It said... „Mom”.’

Those were the desperate words the one-armed man whimpered before bursting into tears. Agent Cooper could still smell the llama’s breath as they entered the sheriff’s station. It was but a painful reminder of how he failed in his calculations. Not even the fresh air of mountains and Douglas firs could make that feeling evaporate, but he kept his head high, not letting others in of his defeat. Lucy was apparently in a much better mood, taking the last bites of her tuna sandwich. Even Harry’s newly assigned job for her (going through the vet’s documentation) couldn’t bring her spirits down – that is, until Andy tried to ease the tension.

The men walked down the pistol range, and Cooper prepared his gun.

’Nice piece,’ Hawk complimented.

'Actually, it's a standard issue. I made a few modifications,' Cooper explained while eyeing his gun. The air smelled stale and dust flew around them any time they took a step. The range appeared to be a dungeon, with knick-knacks scattered around. Like a grandmother’s basement nobody paid much attention to. 'How long has Lucy been upset with Andy?'

'Body language?' The sheriff guessed.

'In this case, it was yelling through a megaphone.'

'Six rounds apiece to start with, Andy,' Harry instructed the deputy, and he nodded nervously. His palms were still moist from the unlucky incident at the Timber Falls Motel, and he found it difficult to get a good hold of his gun. The agent's next inquiry didn't help matters:

'Care to tell us about you and Lucy, Andy?'

'Jeez, you can tell?' Andy could feel the gun slip from his fingers, but he grabbed it at the last minute.

'Not too many secrets left around here,' The sheriff shrugged.

'She won't speak to me and I don't know why. And I don't know why she's doing what she's doing,' The deputy took a shallow breath through his mouth before following. 'I just can't figure her out.'

'Well, there's no logic at work here, Andy. Let that one go,' Coop assured him. 'In the grand design, women were drawn from a different set of blueprints.'

'Amen to that,' Harry agreed.

'Amen,' Hawk nodded, preparing his gun.

'Hawk, Andy,' Harry called out to them. The deputies stood in position, readying themselves for practice.

'Rapid fire,' The agent instructed, and the two men fired their guns. Andy's gun fired each bullet without control, and with each bammm! the deputy's face lost more and more colour and his expression became rather hopeless - even fearful. Of the consequences, of the sheer, destructive power he held in his hands and the control he suddenly owned over life and death. Or the lack of it.

Cooper could read all these uncertainties from Andy's face, not only because he was an FBI agent, trained vigorously to notice the slightest change in body language, but because he saw the same set of emotions contorting Vicky's sculpture-like face and deep gaze the time he taught her how to use a gun.

Hawk handed him their scoring papers, and that's when the agent was pulled back to the present moment. He examined them.

'Hawk. Six for six, two kills, high marks,' Coop brought the other paper on top. 'Andy�� Andy, what we need is practice and lots of it. One hour, three times a week. Harry, you'll supply the ordnance?'

'Whatever it takes,' The sheriff promised without missing a beat, but Andy was crushed. Coop tried to cheer them up, to pour some confidence into the man, but to no avail.

'You ever been married, Cooper?' Harry asked as they stood in place for a practice session themselves. The room was filled with dust and certainly made the air heavier. Or was it the question?

'No,' He replied curtly before following. 'I knew someone once who helped me understand commitment, the responsibilities, and the risks,' Cooper got his headset on, and never really looked at his friend. Only ahead. Something he was trying to do anyway. 'Who taught me the pain of a broken heart.'

They fired together before the sheriff made his guess:

'Is it Miss Davis?'

'She's getting married this summer,' Coop answered in a low voice as their scores were hoisted towards them and he followed the papers bending against the invisible forces.

'One woman can make you fly like an eagle, another can give you the strength of a lion. But only one, in the cycle of life can fill your heart with wonder and the wisdom that you have known a singular joy,' Deputy Hawk's poem echoed in their ears until it sank in. 'I wrote that for my girlfriend.'

'Local gal?' Cooper asked.

'Diane Shapiro, Ph.D, Brandeis.'

Cooper gave him a congratulatory whistle.

***

'No, you don't understand!'

These were the sentences that cut their conversation short to leave them with some new and less exciting – downright meticulous – task: flicking through pages of veterinary reports that they hoped were stained only with coffee, although all of them knew otherwise.

It was one of the least glamorous parts of law enforcement, and besides, the agent felt down on his luck. His confidence in his dream and its clues dissipated and he wished to see Vicky, so maybe, maybe this bleak feeling would be lifted from his spirits.

When he entered her laboratory, she was sitting in front of the monitor, gold-rimmed glasses on, and eyebrows furrowed. She was enveloped in a light gray smoke that rose from the cigarette between her fingers. It was a habit she ended up incorporating, much to his disapproval: computers were notoriously giving her a hard time, and since there was no need to be sterile around these devices, she was taking cigarettes from the pack as if it was candy. Coop took enough time to stare at her fingers for the air to become similarly heavy than in the pistol range, but not long enough for her to administer his presence. He adjusted his tie.

'Hey, Vicky…'

The woman glanced up from beside her glasses. Her eyes had a darker than usual shade and she observed him a little longer before answering:

'Hi Dale,' her voice was dull. 'Where's our one-armed man?'

'His name is Phillip Gerard. I'm afraid he's not our man,' the agent admitted in defeat and leant against the wall. He did not usually use the support of walls or doorframes, but today turned out to be an exhausting one - and they were yet to embark on a tiring and boring task. Victoria was similarly run-down as she pushed herself away from the desk and took her glasses off to massage the sides of her nose.

'But was it the same man who you saw in your dream… Mike?'

The man sighed as he passed by her almost untouched lunch only to sit down right beside it on the table.

'He was,' he admitted. 'But his 'Bob'-friend is only a veterinarian… Though, the convenience store right next to the vet carried Finleys Fine Twine,' Coop fished into his suit to toss the twine to the blonde.

'There's your clue, then,' she observed the object in question. 'Why the long face?'

'I don't know…' he put his legs across her lap. 'How'd you say it? It's all… Circumstantial?'

'I guess I'd say that,' she chuckled half-heartedly then tossed the twine back. 'Don't take your dreams at face value, Dale. Found anything at the vet?'

Victoria knew Cooper trusted his intuition to a fault, but she also knew that there was a little voice inside his head that questioned his gut feelings: a voice she deemed necessary for an investigator, but so often in her friend's case, it was to his demise. She couldn't wrap her head around it, nor she could understand but was quick to learn that Coop's sixth sense worked. Ever since that high-profile case with the gun under exactly the 8th hardwood panel, she doubted his methods no more (that is not to say she wasn't ever skeptical of them), and instead, she supported him with the kind of observation she was excellent at.

'We confiscated the files of his patients. I was hoping you'd join us in flipping through them,' the agent offered, and his mood was steadily rising just from talking to her.

'I'm close to finishing up the reconstruction… I better get back to work,' Vicky reclined as she pulled her mouth to the side.

'I understand,' Cooper nodded and eyed her for a second longer.

It was unfortunate, not only because he would have enjoyed her company and she closed off from any interaction with him (although he knew very well the reason, or so he believed), but because Victoria was excellent with files and a swift reader. However, he could recall an incident, in her early days at the Bureau, when she struggled to read her own handwriting.

[1987 March, J. Edgar Hoover Building]

He just returned to his office, about to check in with Diane, when he spotted her in her usually spotless lab coat: now, it was covered in different shades of brown and yellow, especially around her wrists. The two women were having a lively conversation which he notably disturbed with his appearance. Victoria's face turned into stone (marble, he preferred to liken to), and the agent greeted them politely.

'Good morning Agent Cooper,' she returned his greeting. 'I was just about to hand over the files to Diane, but we could go through them since you're here,' Vicky offered.

'That would be excellent.' The agent nodded.

She handed him the folder, and Cooper turned slightly towards her, so they can both investigate the findings. As his frame ghosted around her small one, he could feel the blue butterflies in his stomach flutter into his ribcage, filling his chest. He forced his gaze from her face to the papers.

'The limbs under the bedframe did belong to the same man, but the blood spatters on the walls and ceiling are somebody else's. Judging from the pattern and the lack of his blood on the scene our victim was either... Wait,' She stopped, took a closer look at the case, then changed the files abruptly. 'My bad, so, our victim we graciously named Mathilda, has no match in our database. She either was living off track, a refugee or a recent immigrant of any kind.' She followed as if nothing had happened. 'Her face was burned off with Zippo gasoline, but interestingly, to light that, one of the suspects used a match. I said one, because the crime scene and the bruises on her upper arm and shoulders suggest that there were at least two perpetrators. She was clasped from behind by hand while her face was burning. We're waiting for the lab results to see if there's any residue left behind by the suspect in question...' She put her glasses on and leaned a little closer to the papers.

'Is that your handwriting, Miss Davis?' Cooper asked.

'Sadly, it is,' She replied with an uncomfortable smile as she distanced herself from the folder to look up at him. Her handwriting was all over the place, crooked, oscillating between different shapes and sizes throughout the report - which signaled to him that she was still getting used to her new position. What caught his attention was, however, the left slant, and the apparent pressure she wrote the words with. He glided his finger across the lines.

'It is almost like you carve into the paper,' he noted. 'It is a handwriting of someone who has great depth and intensity, but keeps it all to themselves.'

Vicky brushed a loose strand from her face while she glanced up at Diane. She cleared her throat, then darted her eyes back to the files.

'You can read it a'right, then?' She asked, but despite her previous efforts, her voice was coarse.

'I hope I did not step over a line,' the agent said regretfully. Victoria scarcely showed any emotions when dealing with the men at the FBI (that is, most of their colleagues), and was always uptight which was not in alignment with the charming manners she introduced herself with.

'There are many lines to go over, I'm afraid,' she joked. The next time she lifted her eyes, there was a mischievous grin on her face, and Coop let out a breath he was holding in. 'Agent Cooper, I suggest you take a look at the Xavin café on West 74th Street.'

'And why is that?'

'Our Mathilda was wearing their uniform.'

***

It was more than mere coincidence: Gordon called to tell them that McCoy found the bird pecks to be either from a parrot or a myna bird (something Vicky was sore about not getting informed of herself), she just entered the room with the poker chip’s reconstruction when Andy found Jacques Renault’s pet bird, Waldo’s files. It all came together and the agent was finally confident. The thrill made him grin from ear to ear as he pulled Victoria to the side.

’Vicky, we’re making a house call. Care to join?’

’Nah,’ she sighed spiritlessly. The dullness was quite unlike her – Coop knew her well and it was nowhere near the kind of reaction he expected from her. His grip on her upper arm became limb and he had an honestly bewildered expression. ’It was a long day and I promised Lucy to drop her home. But I trust you’ll do your best to secure the crime scene for forensics,’ the woman raised her left eyebrow cheekily.

’Of course,’ Cooper promised.

Now he was laying in bed, trying to sleep, but no amount of sheep could take him to dreamland. The absurd attitude of his friend was one thing, yet the previously homey, wood-panelled room of the Great Northern was now anything but quiet.

Somewhere in the hotel stayed a Nordic group in obviously high spirits. It did not matter where exactly they held their elated celebration for their voices rang through the walls, resonating with the wood. Cooper tossed in his bed with quite a temper when he heard a knock on the door: one long, and three shorter ones. As he opened it, the vivacious roar of the Icelanders blared into his room – but on her doorstep, it was Victoria, dressed in her white satin nightgown, with a robe over it.

'You can't sleep either I suppose,' she noted, as she raised a bottle of sweet white wine.

It wasn’t long before they started their own little party in Room 315. Cooper browsed through the records in the room only to put on an LP none of them heard of before. That didn't stop Vicky from dancing, especially after the first two glasses of wine.

She playfully spun around to the jazzy organ notes, her long hair and plaid nightrobe swishing around as she took a sharp turn. Her movements were wobbly which she made up for with thumping, heavy steps. She took a long gulp from the wine bottle, imitating the trumpet that was having a solo in the song at the time before passing the bottle to her friend.

Even Cooper’s reluctance died down shortly, and they changed places often, sliding past each other as they used up all the cramped space the room offered. They jumped up and down the bed, competing to come up with the wildest, wackiest disco moves this side of the Pacific and beyond. Occasionally, they found themself joining in with the Icelandic melodies when the record turned to softer tunes, although they forgot about the Nordic visitors.

Redness and wide smiles were on their faces, and not even the night breeze could cool down the warmth they felt. Their fingers and shoulders sometimes brushed against each other as if searching for the other’s hand yet there was always a breath of distance, a heartbeat away. Vicky once hopped up the bed behind him, only to ruffle his dark hair and make a run for it right after. The man chased after her around the room until he was reconciled with a sip of the white wine.

Some things can be turned around for the better, Cooper thought to himself as he took another sip of the wine.

#strange trails #chapter 4 #agent cooper #agent cooper x oc #twin peaks #twin peaks fanfiction #dale cooper #fanfiction

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ninjapaste · 3 years

Text

Leopold portrait and information post

One of the first things to note about Leopold is that while he may seem human - which he formerly was - he is actually a walking, talking and sentient skeletal carcass. There is a name for these creatures within the over and under worlds that encompass Dilk. They are called Pyrodyphes, skeletons of once cursed souls who are bound as eternal slaves to the demonic rulers of the underworld. Pyrodyphes, implied by their name, can accumulate and control fire. Some Pyrodyphes will have unique fire colours and so when controlling fire, it transforms into a matching hue. The bones of a Pyrodyphe differ from normal ones as they are unbreakable, even more so than diamonds. Their limbs are detatchable, but can work independently or as a hivemind of sorts. Depending on what curse has befallen the living victim, a Pyrodyphe will be enslaved by a particular demon. This demon will have the ability to control one or many pyrodyphes at a time, like a puppet. Pyrodyphes are immortal and do not need any source of energy rather than their own souls. They cannot digest foods an drinks, and have no taste, only going by texture.

Leopold is a Pyrodyphe, but not a normal one. Other Pyrodyphes have big blocks on their spines wuth specific symbols that represent a different demon. He also cannot be controlled by any demon, and walks freely around the overworld rather than the underworld. Leopold has no one to chain him down and has been free to wander the world ever since a curse had suddenly set him aflame within his 3 bedroom flat. With his human town thinking he is dead, his hair now blue, and a mission to uncover the mystery of his strange new form while searching far and wide for a way to return to his fleshy, mortal state.

Although there are several downsides to being a Pyrodyphe, there are also a few upsides for Leo to explore. Fir example, a Pyrodyphe can disguise itself into the form the person was before they were changed or killed with a curse. However, this cannot be done on command and happens when the skeleton is in contact with liquid water. To remove this effect, the body must be set on fire (Pyrodyphes are flammable).

In 'living' form, a Pyrodyphe can still detatch its limbs and looks quite uncanny. The underworld is too hot to have any liquid water, and Pyrodyphes are rarely (if not then not at all) present on the overworld, making it easier for Leopold to blend in with humans and other creatures, all the while not looking too suspicious. A distinct feature that hints toward the inhumanity if a Pyrodyphe can be identified through the skeletal markings around their skin, unnatural hair colours, ridiculously thin and bony apperance and empty eye sockets. Leopold csn still see without eyeballs, but rely on his two glass ones to avoid chances at gaining unwanted attention.

Pyrodyphes feel no physical pain so can be trhown around, flung, pulled apart and put back together again with no injury involved. Leopold enjoys taking hit after hit and being a shield to his companions and his favourite move is to throw himslef at enemies while aflame. To keep his skeletal side somewhat covered, Leopold dresses in wizard and sorcerer's attire, disguising his flame - centered abilities as just simple spells/magic. In Dilk, a hatred for Pyrodyphes is spread far and wide due to their association with demons and also their tendencies to drag others into the chaos that is the underworld. A majority of people believe that the skeletons are souless and are only puppets in the form of old corpses, but the soul is very much present.

Leopold has always been someone who is confident, energetic and always atrempting to see the positives in every situation. Being a Pyrodyphe has made him more carefree and reckless which can spark negative and /or tense altercations with potential enemies (and Kneel). Leo shows deep empathy for people, primarialy for Twig since she does not loathe or repent him in the slightest.

Leopold likes spending time with Twig because she is like the little sibling he never had, since he is an only child. He gets along very well with Newt despite their drastically different backgrounds; their chemistry benefits them in battle and allows them to help one another when sharing their troubles. Leopold is definitely not fond of Kneel, mainly after the one time he tried to kill Twig. He hates that Kneel raises himself up by putting others down, and is disgusted by how he pummels, strangles and throws him, suggesting that he would do the same to other human beings and creatures alike. He understands why he does it, though, and recognises his extreme insecurity, but does not excuse him or like him for the horrible mindset Kneel has. Therefore, he finds joy in annoying, taunting and pranking the elf.

During some of his downtime, Leopold will experience severe dread, hopelessness and gloom caused by his disbelief at what he has become, the fact that he sill most likely never see his friends, go to school, live a normal life and be a normal boy again, and the fact that he may conciously exist for eternity. He cannot be sure about the road ahead, which is why he tags along with Twig and Newt to possibly encounter things that will grant back his mortality, but also to accompany the little imp on her journey to slay Kuur. For the time being, he makes use of his body's capabilities and makes sure to deplete the dread amongst his travel buddies, even if he is unable to do so himself.

#fantasy #oc #character art #digital art #character #skeleton

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fic-al · 4 years

Text

Christmas 1958

CHAPTER FOUR

Patrick was still staring at her from the driver's seat. It was as If he knew where her mind had wandered off to and he was waiting for her to return home. Shelagh turned to him as she opened the passenger door of their car.

"We better hurry up, it looks like snow."

Patrick met her at the boot and quickly stole a kiss. Shelagh's head spun round in all directions. Patrick laughed,

"Are you worried Constable Noakes will arrest us for indecent behaviour?"

"If we are going to do this, I must insist on best behaviour at all times, Dr Turner." She even managed a sly wink, the one she had been practicing of late in the bathroom mirror.

Shelagh wanted Patrick to lead the way up the institute stairs, but he insisted she went up ahead of him. Blissfully unaware of her companions true motives; not for the first time Shelagh remained unconvinced that gentlemanly conduct was always appropriate. Perspiring from a day spent in the over warm London and Patrick's love of the car heater, Shelagh had left her coat in the car.

Suddenly she felt very exposed and vulnerable. She froze on reaching the main hall door, she could hear music and female chatter. Patrick leaned over her to reach for the heavy hall door. Before pushing it open, he whispered in her ear,

"They love you, we all do."

The momentum of him leaning against her, propelled her gently forward through the open door. He announced their arrival with a corny, "We come bearing gifts."

Nat King Cole on Trixie's Dansette didn't miss a beat, but everyone else fell silent and turned their attention to the door. Patrick moved swiftly, very aware of the tension in his sweetheart. He dumped his packages on the nearest flat surface and returned to Shelagh taking her burdens from her and belatedly returning her wink.

Patrick wasn't the only one to notice the fear in Shelagh's eyes and Sister Julienne was soon across; fussing over the donations and welcoming the couple in.

Shelagh gratefully found herself in a bubble of protection from the two people who loved her the most. Her confidence returned as she started to help with the unpacking. To her surprise she felt warm hands in her's, the grip was tight and she turned to find herself face to face with Trixie. The young midwife pulled the ex-nun aside. It was only then that Shelagh realized the girl, whose firm grip she was in, had tears in her eyes.

"I have missed you, I will never forgive myself! You needed a friend, and I was blind to it. You could have told me. You could have confided in me. You could have trusted me. All that time you were never really alone, you just thought you were."

Trixie gave one last squeeze of her friends hands before she let go, "Tell me, are you happy?"

Shelagh was still reeling from Trixie's unexpected welcome and just managed a smile and a nod. Trixie had lowered her voice during her conversation with her old mentor, but it was not lost on the rest of the gathering that the friends reunion had deeply affected them both. Help came from an unexpected source.

"Now enough of all that, you two! What we really want to know is, how is the boy?"

Patrick's voice was shrill and overly bright, as he tried to reassure everyone that Timothy was doing just fine and making a splendid recovery. The wise Sister grabbed the doctor's arm, "He will be alright Dr Turner, remember what his mother said when I brought him into the world."

It was now Patrick's turn to be wrong footed. He didn't know whether it was being reminded of his promise to Marianne or the identity of his reminder. Patrick had to admit since the announcement of his and Shelagh's engagement, he hadn't actually relished working with Sister Evangelina. The nun although never discourteous or disrespectful, hadn't exactly been a ray of sunshine either.

Trixie was now regaining her composure. Feeling a little insecure at revealing her true feelings to her long lost friend, she tossed her hair in defiance. Shelagh was starting to find her feet chatting to Jenny about the Nonnatus closure. Nurse Lee was explaining that she had received forewarning about the impending demolition of the convent, prior to the recent events that had hastened it.

"Alec?" queried Shelagh.

"Oh Sweetie, you are so behind in all the gossip? Alec! I told you about him in that beastly sanatorium, Jenny's latest conquest. I suppose you had your mind on other things." Trixie was definitely feeling better and wanting to regain some sense of control.

"Yes, recovering from tuberculosis," a protective Cynthia interjected. Trixie chose to ignore her.

"You know, you are not the only one to have had your head turned in the last few months.” She continued as she dared a sly glance in Dr Turner's direction.

Chummy gave Trixie a stare the Poplar cub pack were only too familiar with. She handed baby Freddie to Shelagh to try and divert the current trajectory of the conversation. Trixie opened her mouth and Cynthia in a quiet but forceful tone whispered,

"Don't you dare Trixie, don't say it."

Trixie shrugged her shoulders, “All I was going to say, was how much I like your outfit, Shelagh. That skirt is simply to die for, it fits you perfectly."

Shelagh coloured, but Cynthia let Trixie continue, her previous colleague did look attractive and she would have to probably get used to compliments about her appearance.

"You are simply divine! Who knew what you were hiding under that habit all those years? Well, obviously someone had an idea."

Cynthia couldn't apologize enough for her friends behaviour, blaming it on too many Babychams at Alec's earlier in the day and dragged Trixie away for a strong cup of Nescafé. Shelagh handed Freddie back to his mother, her eyes searching for Patrick, it was definitely time to be going. He seemed to be mediating between Sister Evangelina, Sister Monica Joan and a newly delivered Christmas cake.

Sister Monica Joan peevishly turned her back on her sister and the cake, but not before secreting a mince pie up her habit sleeve. Shelagh smiled, she realized how much her self-imposed exile had cost her these magical moments. The senior nun noticed the lovely young woman smiling kindly at her.

"You have returned to us once more, I see." The nun moved towards Shelagh, "it is also fortuitous that you arrive in time for Evensong."

The older woman had both of Shelagh's hands held together and cocooned in her own. As if in the state of conjoined prayer. Both women for most of their working lives had suffered from dry chapped skin on their palms and fingers. Without the need for constant washing, the use of harsh disinfectants and the sparse use of hand cream, both women's hands were now soft due to the change in direction both their lives had afforded them.

Shelagh tried to catch Patrick's eye while trying to explain to the nun that she couldn't stay.

"Why do you look to him, for permission?" Suddenly there was a tangible tension in the room. Trixie's tears and subsequent teasing were one thing, but Sister Monica Joan's comments had the ability to cut right to the heart of the matter, on occasion without censure.

"You answer to no-one. You have renounced your religious vows." Shelagh stiffened and Sister Julienne moved towards the pair. Sister Monica Joan continued, "If I am not very much mistaken, you have not yet repeated different vows to your new Lord and Master."

Mouths opened, fingers twitched, feet shuffled, no-one dare look at Dr Turner.

"You will never find yourself again as free as you are on this blessed day. You are under no obligation to anyone. Why not rejoice in that fact, my dear? Before you surrender yourself again to a destiny, you will never again chart alone."

Shelagh blinked the tears back. Sister Monica Joan smiled, "Partake in the privilege of free will, while you can, my sister."

Patrick was the first to speak, "Stay Shelagh." Sister Monica Joan shot him a look of defiance. "If that's what you want?" he swiftly added.

"Why don't you both stay?" Sister Julienne suggested.

Patrick Turner was used to being the only man in a room full of women, but at this particular moment, all he wanted was to be heading down the institute stairs. It had been Shelagh who had been reticent in coming, but he knew it was imperative for her to stay and for him to take his leave.

Shelagh walked Patrick to their car she flung her arms around him, unconcerned that PC Noakes or anyone else might see. He promised her he would return in an hour, in a way that made an hour sound like a lifetime. On opening the car door he threw her a cheeky grin.

"Don't you be setting off on your own and make me come and find you in the snow."

"Don't keep me waiting then," she called after him and he was gone. She knew he would be back for her, but that sensation of being lost gripped her again.

Patrick had meant well, Sister Monica Joan had meant well, they had all meant well. None of them could have understood the inner turmoil raging inside her at this moment.

Could she really go back in there and join the Sisters in lifting their voices to praise God? Would He understand? Would He think her a hypocrite? No, not think. He would know? She would make an excuse and take her leave.

As Shelagh aimlessly climbed the institute stairs, alone this time. Flicking the lighter she had worked all day to master. She studied the words engraved on it Completely Certain.

Completely Certain, had not so long ago been such a clear statement of romance, clarity, intent, truth and faith. Now these concepts seemed hazy, unreachable at best. She now was more familiar with desire, impulse, craving, necessity, endurance and fight. She was now completely certain only of these things.

At the top of the stairs stood a solitary figure. “He loves you very much, everyone can see that," remarked the kindhearted Cynthia. “And you him?"

"Yes."

"Do you mind me asking?" Cynthia paused. Shelagh let her to continue.

"How can you be so certain that this was His meaning for you?"

The introverted nurse was the first person to ask Shelagh that question. Patrick had never asked her, even Sister Julienne had not asked that question. It had been the only question, Shelagh had asked herself for three long months in St. Anne’s.

She knew the answer now, "His meaning is love...I am always led back to that promise."

The young midwife linked her friend's arm and asked, "Shall we go in now and offer up our thanks to our Lord."

Shelagh smiled. "I think that would be most appropriate."

#call the midwife #turnadette #thanks for reading #christnas 1958 turnadette

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thefrozenarchives · 5 years

Photo

Anahera stood in the snow, her boots sunk into the knee-high powder. The air was crisp, the sky bright. They were fresh off a blizzard and, in the aftermath, things seemed almost peaceful. The world was monotone and silent, still in its slumber. Only the wind moved, brushing at the feathers in her hair before moving on to play in the trees.

“Are we almost ready?” Helios was a vibrant streak of red against the white. He was like the sun, radiant and full. His pale gaze was settled firmly on Anahera, waiting patiently for her orders.

Anahera coiled her fingers around the hilt of her sword. “Yes,” she said, not sure if she meant it. “Is Silver prepared?”

“As always.” She heard Helios shuffle behind her, no doubt impatient to get going. He was always quick to work, at odds with Anahera’s steady rhythm.

“Come, then.” Anahera turned sharply, going back the way she’d come. She stepped in her old footprints and, obedient, Helios was quick to come to heel. “Let’s not waste any more time.”

A lifetime away, a sea across, a man with thistle hair and deep blue eyes watched a ship come to rest at the docks. The seaport city was alive with movement, each person ambling along more intriguing than the last. Barnabas’ true interest, however, was the sea. The salty blue waters sang to his blood and he could not hope to resist.

The sun was high overhead, ever-watchful, and Barnabas hoped to use its heat to guide him home. He waited, like a cat on the prowl, for the men to retire for an early lunch. The docks sported many well-loved taverns and bars, a reprieve from the burning sun overhead. Barnabas was not interested in such things, but he knew of its draw to the sailors.

When the crew made scarce and the ship was silent without watch, Barnabas strolled forward. He knew the weight of confidence, of pretending with such surety that he belonged on that ship. No one questioned him when he walked up the gangplank and onto the main deck of the Ranger, a cargo ship stocked full of rocks and jewels.

Barnabas’ destination was the belly, where he could hide amongst the crates and wait for them to set sail. Being caught as a stowaway was a hefty fine, but Barnabas had done this many times before. It was an excellent way to travel, hidden away and cost free.

Now, all he had to do was wait.

“It’s just a peaceful mission,” Anahera reminded Silver and Helios. “We don’t need to rush this. This tribe is known more for their lackadaisical attitude than anything else. If we seem too pushy then they’ll be quick to give us the shoulder.” She played with the straps of her elk, the leather soft against her gloved thumb. Behind her, Silver and Helios kept pace. Their squires, silent and attentive, brought up the rear.

“Do you think they’ll be convinced to rest?” Silver’s voice was quiet, even in the silence of the snow. She rode to Anahera’s left, head tilted curiously. Where Anahera and Helios had light eyes, Silver’s was vivid green, hidden only by the mask she wore on her face.

“Hard to say,” Anahera replied. “This dispute of theirs is one of blood. I imagine there aren’t many dragons alive in their clan who even remember why they’re fighting to begin with.”

“It seems foolish.” Helios’ frown was obvious in his voice. “Who would fight over something they don’t even remember? It seems a waste of time.”

“They’re a small tribe,” Anahera countered. “They are all kin to one another. A slight against one of their own isn’t something they can easily forget, even after a great deal of time. It’s an important part of their history.”

“Until us,” Silver added.

“Until us.”

The sea had a way of calming Barnabas’ heart. Even stowed away in the cargo of an unfriendly ship, with a days journey ahead of him, he felt tranquil. No matter what, he was surrounded by home. And soon… Soon he would be with the one he’d been looking for for years. His blood, his kin.

At the very thought, his heart seemed to skip a beat. It wasn’t that he was afraid of meeting his sister for the first time, but the idea that finally he would know his own family… It was a heavy thought on his mind. A mixture of excitement and worry. The fear that she might not welcome him, or that she might not even care about his existence at all. But how could she not? They were blood. As far as he knew, there was no other.

Sighing, Barnabas leaned his head back against the crate he rested against. He stared out the window to his left, inhaling the salty smell of the ocean, and tried to imagine a scenario where he would at last know what it was like to have a family.

“Welcome, knights of the Frozen-Sea!” They were met by a trio of the tribesmen, all wearing thick coats that hid their faces from the cold. Their village was amongst the fir trees, just on the treeline. Just past them Anahera’s group could see the wooden homes and cloth coverings that shielded the tribe from the weather. A secluded village, hidden in the snow.

“Was your journey well?” The one who spoke had eyes of palest blue, a woman with pure white hair that held beads and coloured string amongst the strands. She spoke with a voice that was warm even in the cold of the snow, her icy eyes alighting on Anahera.

“Well enough,” Anahera replied with a dip of her head in greeting. “Has your tribe faired well since we last spoke? It’s been some time since I received your letter.” She stepped forward, sliding her winter gloves off her hands to meet the tribe leader in a handshake.

“Things have been good for us this season. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Anahera. And your allies, of course.” She looked beyond Anahera’s shoulder to the four dragons waiting patiently just beyond.

“Chief Kashi, this is Knight Helios and Knight Silver. These are their squires, Kynigos and Soleil.” She pointed at each one in turn, the others greeting the chief politely when their name was spoken.

“Impressive,” Kashi replied with an amused smile. “Even your squires look hardy enough to take on my entire tribe. I imagine they are well trained.”

Anahera matched Kashi’s smile. “We are only as good as those before.”

Waving a hand towards the collection of homes and tents, Kashi said, “Shall we?”

The ship docking was a raucous affair. There was a great deal of noise, so no worry of Barnabas missing his queue to get off. Unlike when they departed, the crew was eager to dump their stock and be done with the job. As such, Barnabas was forced to sneak up towards the top deck and slip over the side. He was thankful to not have been caught, but having to cling to the side of the ship like one of the many barnacles wasn’t very appealing.

No one questioned him when he climbed up the dock from seemingly nowhere, dusting off his clothes and setting off without a look back. In many ways, Barnabas stuck out like a sore thumb. For starters, the region here was one of snow and Barnabas was still wearing clothes suitable to the balmy seas. He hadn’t yet gotten too cold, but he considered making an investment in something heavier to keep him warm on his way inland.

With a general understanding of where they’d docked, Barnabas knew he needed a ride if he wanted to reach his goal by days end. It was too cold and too snowed in for a man like himself to try taking on his own, wearing clothes that did nothing to stop the winter chill. Keeping his head down, he quickly made his way along the docks and into the port town.

With eyes narrowed against the wind, he kept an eye out for a shop selling coats. He hadn’t a penny on him, but quick fingers made it easy to get what he needed. So long as he didn’t let anyone get too good a look at him, they wouldn’t ever find him. He had no plans to return to this place.

Overhead, the snow fell heavily. Barnabas paused for a moment and tilted his head back. The cottony clumps fell on his hair and lashes. He wondered if perhaps his sister was experiencing the same snowfall, so far from him.

The tents were warmer than Anahera had thought they would be. Once the flap closed behind them, the wind chill vanished. Happily, the five visiting dragons settled around the fire that heated the main tent.

“Now, assuming your reasons for being here haven’t changed, I believe we’re going to be speaking about the Atori.” Kashi was seated across from the knights. They all kneeled before the fire, blankets draped over their legs and tea in their hands. It was much more of an intimate setting than would have happened back home.

“Correct.” Anahera let her cup rest between her hands, nestled comfortably on her legs. She looked at Kashi over the flames, their forms distorted by the heat waving in the air. “The Atori were the ones to contact us. They seeked aid in ending the feud between your two tribes.” She saw the flat look Kashi gave her and smiled. “Yes, at first they wanted physical aid to win the many battles your two tribes meet in, but we convinced them to try a simpler approach.”

“I find that hard to believe. The Atori have never done things simply.”

“Your tribes are very different, but you both want the same thing. Prosperity. Peace. A reprieve from worrying about the other attacking without a moments notice. How many resources have you put into this dispute?” Kashi didn’t answer, but Anahera hadn’t expected her to. “Your tribes have gone many years with this fight. It is perhaps as familiar to you as your own family. Perhaps it is time to put it to rest, though.”

“And the Atori want this? They will accept peace so simply?” Although Kashi had a kind face, her gaze was hard. “They have made many demands over the generations. None have been worth even acknowledging.”

Anahera nodded in understanding. “They are willing to set aside their own pride and prejudices if you do the same. They ask for nothing but neutrality. A promise to desist from both sides.” She paused, then waved a hand out. “It is a treaty.”

Kashi leaned back, looking contemplative. Around her, her council was stoic and silent. Anahera had been warned that they wouldn't speak in front of outsiders.

“Will there be a physical sign of this treaty?” Kashi asked. “I don’t want any chance of words being taken back. I will chance no betrayal.”

Anahera nodded. “If you agree to peace, there will be a formal meeting between you and the Atori leader, Hannal. There, you will sign the treaty.” She tapped her fingers against her cup. “The Atori think it would be wise to include my clan in the pact. That whoever betrays the other loses our favour as well.”

Kashi looked amused. “A frightening thought, to be sure.”

Anahera laughed. “Perhaps. But we are not here to make enemies. Only forge alliances.”

“Then I will approve of this meeting. I make no promises of peace yet, but I will hear what Hannal has to say.”

Anahera’s smile was warm. “That is enough for now.”

It was a tricky business stealing a coat. It required a great deal of pretending he’d owned it in the first place, while also not being noticed by the man who ran the store. In the end, though, it was worth the effort. The coat was a pale blue, stylish and with white fur on the inside that kept him warm. If he had paid for it, it would have been a worthwhile investment.

He had even secured a ride, having overheard a portly man discussing his route east. Barnabas, in a rare moment of charisma, had somehow managed to entertain the man and was welcomed to share the journey.

“And what do you plan on doing all the way on the eastern cliffs?” the man asked. He had introduced himself earlier as Julian, a seller of furs and leather who traveled around the world to promote his trade. If he recognized the coat Barnabas was wearing, he didn’t mention it.

“I’m visiting family,” Barnabas said honestly. He was seated across from the other in the carriage, cushioned and warmed by a thick blanket. “My sister lives in a small kingdom by the cliffs. She’s been there for some time, but this will be my first time seeing it.”

“And where are you from?” Julian asked curiously. “Besides the sea, of course.” He smiled toothily, as if he had said something clever.

Barnabas laughed lightly. “Only ever the sea, I’m afraid. I’m not really one for wandering the land. Although I’ve heard my sisters kingdom has paths down to the bay below the cliffs, so hopefully I won’t be entirely cut off from my true love.”

Julian chuckled. “Hopefully.” He nudged Barnabas, winkling. “And maybe your sisters kingdom is in need of some fine cloths and materials as well.” He waved his hand at the blanket Barnabas was using, the fabric soft and warm beneath his fingers.

Amused, Barnabas laughed. “Maybe.” A kingdom of warriors and knights would probably make more use out of metal and swords, but he wouldn’t ruin Julian’s hopes just yet. At least not until he was close enough to walk on his own.

“That went faster than expected,” Helios said plainly as they walked out of the village. “I didn’t think she would be so agreeable.”

“It’s clear that both sides want peace.” Silver fiddled with a necklace she wore, looking thoughtful. “Hopefully they can look past their distrust and bring a permanent end to all of this.”

Anahera was silent before them, trudging through the snow. There was still the treaty meeting to set up, getting both sides to stay peaceful and open for conversation throughout the entire event. It was easy enough to agree to a treaty when one wasn’t looking into the eye of their enemy. Kashi didn’t seem the impulsive type, but such things were hard to judge on first meetings.

“The treaty signing will likely take place a week or so from now. Enough time for both sides to truly figure out what they want.” Anahera considered the time. “There won’t be much for us to do for them during all of this. We can set up the meeting place in a neutral area, but otherwise it is on them to meet in the middle.” Literally and figuratively.

“What are the chances this ends in a fight?” Helios asked as they reached their elk, tied to a small cluster of trees further from the woods. He patted his own on the snout, not rushing to mount and ride off.

Anahera untangled the reigns of hers. “I think they will be unlikely to fight there in front of us. If anything, I imagine the worst we can expect is them calling off the treaty and returning home. At that point...we will have failed.”

Silver clicked her tongue. “Then let’s hope that isn’t the case.”

Slowly the five mounted up, urging their elk into a trot. The elegant creatures made easy work of the snow, graceful even with such clumsy creatures on them.

As they rode off, Anahera turned to look at the tribes village. She thought she saw Kashi standing at the edge, watching them go.

The journey was long, but frankly there was not a moment of boredom in the company of Julian. Even for an older man, he was energetic and hilarious, telling stories and jokes that left Barnabas weeping tears of laughter. Barnabas had a few stories of his own, which Julian encouraged him to share. They weren’t comedic in any way, just enchanting tales of the sea and his time there. Although Barnabas’ world had mainly been one of water and sand, it was still a beautiful place full of exciting things to discover.

“Wait,” Julian said in a voice that was uncharacteristically serious. “You expect me to believe that there is a mighty beast living in the sea? Spoken of and known only by sailors and natives?”

Barnabas, with a face just as serious, nodded. “It is a massive creature. Most tremble to even speak of it, so they do not.”

Then, breaking into laughter, Julian clapped Barnabas on the back. “But you are not the trembling type!”

“No, certainly not.” Barnabas joined him in laughter, leaning loosely against the side of the carriage. “I’ve seen too much nonsense to be worried about some sea creature that won’t show its face.”

“There’s a great deal amount of terrible in the world,” Julian said, nodding his head. “Most of it comes from men like you and me. More of a worry to my life than any sea creature.”

Humming in agreement, Barnabas peered out the window. “If I know my geography, I think we’re making good headway. Those icy spires could only come from the eastern region.”

Julian clicked his tongue. “Yes, they’re dreadful things. Hiding the sunlight, keeping pleasant folk like you and me in the dark. No wonder they call this place a fortress.” He peered out the window. “I imagine we’ll reach your kingdom quite soon.” He straightened and looked at Barnabas. “Are you looking forward to your journey being over?”

Barnabas grinned, the smile bright and boyish. “More than you could possibly know, my friend.”

Their journey through the snow was quick. Once they were past the trees that marked the edge of the tribes territory, they set out at a fierce pace. Anahera loathed adventures that lasted too long, always wanting to return home. A funny habit for someone who had been so averse to joining the knights in the first place.

Reaching the fjord brought with it the familiar sense of comfort, knowing they could rest up. There wouldn’t be any serious work to do for the week, beyond setting up the meeting, and Anahera could muffle her stresses about the two tribes until then.

Riding through the main city, the group approached the gates of the castle. Anahera caught sight of something then, a carriage that she did not recognize at rest by the stables. Had they had guests while she was away? Aelius had many visitors to the city, always stringing together new alliances and trades, but she kept herself familiar with their schedule. This was something that hadn’t been planned, and not many made impromptu visits to the heart of the city.

Exchanging glances with Silver and Helios, they made their way indoors. Kynigos and Soleil had separated, tending to the elk, but the trio continued towards the main hall where Aelius so often met incoming diplomats and traders.

“Ah, Anahera. There you are.” The familiar and welcoming voice of her clan leader met her, echoing in the wide chamber. “Someone is here to meet you.”

Aelius’ form was easy to spot, hair a brilliant orange and with brilliant golden clothes. Beside him was his wife, the Archmage Mira. They stood at the head of the oak table that so often held dinners that currently laid bare, and with them were two new figures. One was a thick-set man with a mane of brown hair and eyes to match. The other...looked like her. Looked entirely like her.

When the Imperator called out Anahera’s name, Barnabas couldn’t help but grow tense. So this was it. The moment he’d meet his only surviving blood. Would she know him? Would she recognize him? Would she even believe that what he said was the truth? All the questions he’d been ignoring buzzed around in his head until he actually turned around, meeting the gaze of his sister.

She looked just like him.

Tentatively, Barnabas stepped forward. “Anahera…” he said, eyes wide. He’d entirely forgotten what he’d planned to say. A strange mix of facial expressions seemed to flicker over her face, but still she walked forward to stand in front of him.

“Who are you?” The words were not hostile, but there was little warmth too. Uncertainty, mostly, but that Barnabas could understand.

“I- You-” He stopped. Took a breath. “Anahera, I am your brother.” He took her hand in his, and she let him. “And I have spent years looking for you. For my family.”

He waited to hear her response, dark blue eyes meeting pale yellow. She studied him, face analytical, but didn’t yet speak. Then, after a wait so long Barnabas felt he would get dizzy, she spoke.

“You...have a lot of explaining to do.”

He sure did.

#Flight Rising #FR #FR lore #FR lore post #FS:story #c:Anahera #c:Barnabas #c:Silver #c:Helios #this took so long

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toxikku · 6 years

Text

87. “I didn’t wanna wake you up. You just looked so peaceful.”

The old duck sat on the large worn brick, thoughtful, his leg bouncing on his knee slowly as he skimmed the pages of the book he had rested in his lap. His black eyes narrowed at the text, then squinted, before the shine on his specs strengthened as he straightened abruptly.

“That’s it!” he mused in fascination under his breath, grinning widely at having found the information he was looking for. For a brief second, he had that revelation in his clutches and, be darned, he was proud of it!

That revelation meant nothing to him, he realised. He quickly grew mildly frustrated, settling the book down on the rock next to him and sitting straight. He folded his arms in a perplexed and almost pouty manner, as he tried to decipher something – anything – to get past the realization he’d just made.

His gaze shot up at the sound of grumbling, across to other side of the kindling flame – the sound of his nephew uttering blissful nonsense in his sleep. Middle youngest, the lad was, often in blue and often lost in that big blue ocean of danger. Almost exactly like his Uncle Scrooge in ambition and adventure.

Scanning the book’s cover, Scrooge’s expression was blank as he contemplated it his options. His stare lit like the fire burning before him, and he scrambled to his feet, about to call in excitement.

“Dew--!”

He cut himself off immediately, noting the darkness surrounding them and the expression on the child’s face. Scrooge reeled at the obvious tranquillity, afraid of speaking any further and disturbing his nephew. Perhaps his discovery could have waited until the morning, when the lad had fully rested? The elder had not rested yet himself…

His amber-glinted eyes followed the smoke rising from the fire. It escaped through a quadrilateral hole in the tall ceiling, boasting of how easily it had passed the hurdle the ducks had not. No results had come from the pair’s joint attempts to reach that exit, and had since concluded it pointless.

The only other features in this room were the darkly-lit walls, full of ancient text but otherwise nonsense, and two doors that refused to open. Nothing in this room was helpful, aside from his nephew who was currently sound asleep under two blankets.

Scrooge sighed softly, his gaze grim and stumped as he watched the dancing embers. It was typical, he supposed, that the both of them would encounter this type of trouble. A few hours earlier, they had been running excitedly into this room, a large aged boulder hot on their tails. There was so much adrenalin in that moment, so much fun, so much thrill – and of course, danger.

Scrooge hadn’t much time to fret as the door had closed behind them and brought the boulder to a stop. Both had stood there, thinking, staring, processing what had just happened. Then snickered, giggled, and laughed at the sheer ridiculousness that they had just taken part in.

That hadn’t lasted when they came to a literal dead end. This room hadn’t spoken its secrets in twenty minutes, and continued to do so until this very point in time. Nothing useful was in the inscriptions here – nothing. This room had no cheat code and was very cruel in giving an overload of information that helped nothing but their impending insanity.

Adventure was all good fun – but Scrooge both wondered and worried if they’d ever escape this infernal prison. He was burdened deeply by the fact that Dewey could be home safe and sound, maybe even with an ice cream. McDuck was ever confident, yes, but several hours had passed in this room and no progress to escape had been made.

He rose to his feet, his eyes low and tired as he walked towards the backpack to his left.

If this revelation wasn’t helpful, then…

“OW!”

His foot crashed into an object covered in darkness, and he yelped a muffled curse has he hit the floor. Instinct kicked in on time, however, and his hands shot in front of him to halt any damage to his face. He grumbled to himself until the light breathing of his nephew no longer reached his ears, and turned his head slowly.

Dewey sat straight, awoken by the thud and cry of his uncle. His expression was that of worry and confusion as he saw Scrooge pick himself up.

Brushing himself off, Scrooge looked to his nephew apologetically.

“Ah, sorry, lad,” he mumbled quickly.

The duckling shrugged, not seeming to reflect on his sleeping pattern. He blinked at the cotton surrounding him and looked at his uncle in confusion.

“Where’d this other blanket come from?” he inquired, but was returned a shrug.

To begin with, the other’s answer had been hesitant but it picked itself up quickly enough. “Cold is Antarctica,” he stated quickly. “Ae’ve no need of it.”

He didn’t divulge anything else – not that the shiver in his sleeping nephew had prompted him to hand the blanket over.

“Oh, uh… yeah, right, right.” Dewey’s eyes traced the floor awkwardly, then he spoke again, “Soooo, we still trapped forever?”

“Totally, totally trapped,” Scrooge returned sheepishly.

Dewey nodded and decided to accept this was his life now.

“Although perhaps not forever, me boy!”

His expression brightened, and he looked at Scrooge excitedly. “You found a way out?!”

“Welllllll… maybe,” was his answer.

“Oh. Maybe. Cool! What’ve you got, Uncle Scrooge? Does it involve death and danger, not in that order?”

“Ye—no!” Scrooge stopped himself, then paused. “Maybe not death.”

“Awww, but impending death is so much fun!”

Scrooge’s brow furrowed worriedly. “I assure you death is not on the agenda, Dewey.”

He ignored the pouting expression on Dewey’s face as he walked back to pick up the book, then flicked through a few pages. Walking around the fire, he put the page before the child.

A hand-sized cube was sketched on the page, highly detailed and holding several indentations. Its vertical face was bright, decorated with a gem.

“I was going to ask you this earlier… Have you seen an object like this? Something—”

“Oh, yeah, totally,” Dewey replied, waving a dismissive hand with a chill expression. “That’s that thing I picked up in the other room.”

“Wh-what? You… you had that the entire time?!” Scrooge exclaimed, his hand clutching the side of his head as he stared at the book in bafflement. “I never saw you pick that up…”

“I was sneaky about it because… uh…” Dewey trailed off uneasily.

“Yes?” Scrooge asked, staring expectantly.

“Never mind, it’s lame. Anyway, what about it?”

Scrooge paced to the other side of the room, where the door they had not come through stood. It was surrounded by four circular indentations, embedded into its stone border.

“I knew there was more to these marks than pretty decoration…” He gestured to the door, then glared at the book in frustration. “Unfortunately, this book has extremely obscure chapter names… and I can understand Shakespeare!”

Dewey squinted, then his eyes widened. He looked to his backpack immediately.

“The gem can fit into those slots! Or… one of them,” he stated. “This plan is a failure; I only have one cube!”

“Where is that cube, anyway?”

Dewey pulled himself to his feet and waddled over to the bag, then after finding nothing, looked around the room.

“It was in here…” he mumbled, then had a realization. “…you tripped over it.”

“O…oh,” Scrooge mused, cringing slightly. “Ae see.”

Dewey picked up the object that had once been clouded in darkness, and brought it to the light. Its face was illuminated by the fire, causing its onlookers to stare in wonder.

“Wait…”

Scrooge readjusted his specs, blinking as he noticed more than one light, coloured differently.

“The… is that another gem?” As Dewey twirled the cube… “And another?”

Suddenly it clicked. It all made sense.

“Yeah, it has it on four sides – but don’t we only have one cube? I didn’t see any other cubes in that room…” Dewey looked confused, but he dwelled on the mystery, on the door before them. “Unless…”

Scrooge’s expression grew chipper as Dewey’s eyes followed the curved line of indentations.

“…we use the same cube for all of them?”

“Aye, lad!” Scrooge grinned, then turned to the door. “The only question is: what order?”

Dewey looked at the walls.

“You read that stuff, right?”

Scrooge waved a dismissive hand.

“Yes, yes – all nonsense, though. Nothing at all useful. Personally, I think the person who made this trap wanted be an extra teaspoon of sadistic.” He huffed in annoyance. “I translated all of that… I mean all of it…”

“What did it say?” Dewey asked in confusion.

“Sentences of the same directions that ultimately lead nowhere. South, north, west, and east. Repeatedly,” Scrooge stated, looking puzzled. “Not sure how an ancient GPS would help someone here…”

The younger duck walked over, concentrating on the circles embedded into the trimming. He glanced back to the dark multi-coloured walls, noting the several dots between nonsense, then turned back to the door.

“Hmm…”

His hand moved, clicking one coloured gem into one slot, and then continuing.

“Dewey, you’re going to be here a –”

There was a sudden loud ‘THUD’. The sound of whatever lock the door had unlocking. The sound of the door scraping its stone sides, of its bottom rising to reveal light.

Scrooge looked at Dewey in shock.

“Ta-da!” he responded with a grin, chucking the cube up and down in his hands.

“How did you…”

“I was just so cool the door listened to me!” he exclaimed proudly, pointing at himself. Scrooge didn’t look convinced… he needed an explanation otherwise it would drive him nuts. “I just… acted like the holes were a compass, I guess. Rotated it until it worked.”

Scrooge looked gobsmacked.

“Of course! OF COURSE!” he exclaimed, laughing at himself. “Why didn’t I think of that…? In that case, I withdraw my comment about the trap creator – they’re LESS sadistic than they were before!”

He looked at Dewey, who tilted his head.

“Well done!” he praised, ruffling his hair with pride. Dewey’s eyes sparkled a little, and he folded his arms, trying to look cool.

“Naturally!”

Scrooge grinned and then walked over to the fire.

“Come on, lad! Let’s go find the others, before your Uncle Donald throws a fit.” He began packing their belongings.

“If he hasn’t already,” Dewey replied with a small snicker. He blinked. “Hey… Uncle Scrooge?”

“Yes, Dewey?” The duck set about the fire.

“You could’ve just woke me up, you know? We could’ve been outta’ here aaaaaaaaaaa-ages ago,” Dewey spoke with amused confusion.

Scrooge faltered a little.

“To be honest, it is relatively late – if it hadn’t been for that cube of yours, I would have left you to sleep,” he stated, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t wanna’ wake you up. You just… looked so peaceful.”

He looked down at the calming fire, watching it fade.

“So…?”

“In this type of life, Dewey – sleep like that is a rare occasion.” He stood and turned to the other. “Ae wouldn’t want to rob you of that while you still have it.”

Dewey chuckled a little.

“Why is sleep such a big deal? It’s just… sleep, right?”

Scrooge didn’t respond.

Sleep eventually becomes tragic or non-existent. After a person has lived such a long and eventful life, the things they most regret and fear invade through nightmares.

Peaceful sleep was a rarity Dewey didn’t know about.

Having finished cleaning and gathering their things, Scrooge made for the door, jolly once more.

He held out Dewey’s backpack, then grinned slightly.

“…race back?”

“I ALREADY STARTED, OLD MAN!”

Dewey had snatched the bag and was racing off through the door.

“Hey! PLAY HONEST!” Scrooge yelled with a grin.

He pulled his backpack onto his shoulders and quickly bolted after his nephew.

#ducktales #ducktales 2017 #dewey duck #scrooge mcduck #ducktales reboot #writing prompt #ducktales fanfiction #fanfiction #angst #fluff #hope this is good! sorry i got so carried away lmao #hope you like it <3 #the reason dewey had the thing is because he was planning to give it to scrooge as a present if their adventure fell through aaa

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bbparker · 7 years

Text

Slip of the Tongue. Pt 2. (Peter Parker)

Synopsis: Peters rival in everything he does is actually his girlfriend, but nobody knows that due to Peter not wanting to compromise her safety. But one day, Peter accidentally lets slip to a friend about (y/n)’s home problems, and suddenly (y/n) is the pinpoint of everyone’s gossip.

A/N: Hey! Welcome back! I was so excited to continue this! 100% will be another part after this because it ends on a cliffhanger! Let me know your thoughts because I don’t think I did this as good lmao...

This chapter was influenced by the song ‘All Time Low’ by Jon Bellion! Listen to it here

Warning: Some hurt characters in this- physically I mean so be careful!l and the use of ‘mom’ even though I'm Australian.

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

// Masterlist //

[Part 1]

Your name: submit What is this?

Three days.

Three days is how long it took for (Y/N) to mentally recover from this social blow. After much reasoning with herself, she realised how ridiculous it was to think that she was the only one with home problems. How other people aren’t perfect either and so, from there she was able to return to school on the fourth day. A Friday, luckily.

Walking through the halls and having every pair of eyes either glance or blatantly stare you down, as if waiting for you to crumble, was something (y/n) could never possibly get used to. She refused to give in to such merciless judgment.

After the big fiasco on Monday, (y/n) had found out who her real friends were – which was nobody, but at least now she knew. Arriving at her locker, (y/n) found a very well rounded boy, by the name of Ned, standing next to her locker. Pausing, she takes a deep breath before masking her face and approaching him. Opening her locker and sorting out her books, (y/n) refuses to acknowledge Ned.

“(y/n) Listen…”

“No, you listen. What makes you think you can talk to me?” Bitchy, (y/n) knew, but she didn’t want any association with the Parker boy nor any lies and excuses that were about to fall from his friend’s mouth. A blush rose to Ned's cheeks as she stared him down. “I-uh… I wanted to talk-”

“No, no. I talk. you listen. Okay?” Nodding his head quickly, too scared to piss her off further knowing her capabilities; as shown to Peter Monday. “You and your ‘friends’ stay the hell away from me and we won’t have a problem.” Ned tried to cut in, a fierce glare quickly cut him off but didn’t stop his glance that flickered over her shoulder.

Following Ned’s eye line behind her, (y/n) found Peter not too far down at his locker, looking at her. Smiling slightly at him, he begins to smile back before she raises the finger. His smile was wiped off instantly. Returning to the boy before her, (y/n) begins again.

“You and the rest of Parker’s groupies don’t approach me, you don’t talk to me. Hell, you don’t even talk about me because as I’m sure Parker’s probably let slip, I’m not afraid to kick a bitch down when I need to. Okay?” She smiled viciously and grabbed her remaining books before walking off.

Looking behind as (y/n) walked away, the blushing boy looked close to tears. (y/n) obviously regrets her spiteful words, however, she didn’t need people approaching her with petty excuses for a boy she no longer wanted within her life.

It seems the boy had destroyed her after all.

Ned slowly approached the boy leaning against the lockers after watching the whole thing go down. “So… uh…” Ned didn’t know where to begin. “She stuck the rude finger up at me…” Peter let out breathlessly.

“I mean you kinda deserve it, but dude... she’s scary as hell. How did you deal with her for so long?” Peter looked through the crowds to see if he could still see (y/n). No luck. “Well I didn’t put up with her Ned and she wasn’t always so…savage?” Pausing, trying the word on his tongue. Peter continued. “But you’re right it is my fault. M-maybe I can’t fix it but I’ll damn well try.”

The bell sounded around the hall, people rushing to reach class. Both boys slowly make their way to chemistry, a class Peter did in fact share with (y/n). “Are you still stalking her with the spidey suit?”

“Dude!”

“What?”

“I wouldn’t call It spying…” Ned laughs, “So what do you call following her for the last three days and sitting on her fire escape?” Peter realised he had in some way, been stalking her. “I call it safety Ned. Safety.”

Ned nods along, a second bell ringing forcing the boys to move faster.

--------------

“(Y/n)! Can you please run to the store and get some eggs and milk?” Her mother stands in the doorway. (Y/n) smiles softly. For her mother, she would be in a good mood. Her parents had decided to take a sort of ‘break’ before coming back to figure whether to stay together or finally divorce. (Y/n) believes her parents definitely don’t need the added stress of a moody teen.

“Sure mom.” Dressing in warmer clothes, (y/n) shoves her boots on and walks out the front door. “Bye!” she yells quickly to her mom.

Exiting the store after an hour, (y/n) paused, about to turn left towards home. However, (y/n) made the quick decision to turn right and go towards her favourite parkland. Coming upon the park, it wasn’t as in as good of condition as it had been when it had been installed; right about when she was six. It was actually here that (Y/n)’s parents used to take her every weekend and the place where she first met Peter Parker. Also where their rivalry began.

Leaning on the small fence that separated the small park from the pathway, (y/n) could almost see the shadows of her younger self-running around and a smaller Peter Parker chasing after her. Large smiles on their faces and the frowns when they were told they had to leave.

“I win (y/n)!” The young voice of Peter shouted at the pig-tailed girl.”Nu-uh Pete! I’m the better runner!” Little Peter scoffed, flicking one of her ribbons tied in her hair. “That’s such a lie! Race you to our parents and whoever gets their firs-” Little (y/n) had already started running towards her parents. “That’s cheating (y/n)!”

The shrill laugh from her younger self echoed through her mind. Her now older self-reminiscing the easier times. The park was now abandoned. It hadn’t been used by kids as much anymore due to Queens becoming a little bit rougher than other areas.

The older you grow, the more confusing things become with feelings, boys, high school and finally hero boys who wear spandex.

“Oh no! Stop!” A loud voice erupted from near (y/n) causing her to jump and swiftly turn to see an elderly lady and a man in a bit of conflict. The robber seemed to be trying to steal her handbag but the older lady was stronger than she looks.

“Hey!” (Y/n) yelled running towards the conflict. Looks like she would have to play hero for once. The older guy seemed to turn around and look her up and down. “Fuck off and mind your own busine-” The robber was unable to finish his sentence because of a fist hitting right where his liver is. An ‘oof’ sound making its way out of his mouth and his grip on the elderly lady’s bag was released.

The elderly lady fled the scene, without a thank you to (y/n). “Shouldn’t have done that kiddo.” (Y/n) shrugged. “I disagree.” Dodging the man’s hits were relatively easy until he managed to land one on her right cheek and lip. Black spots appear and dance across her vision by the sheer force of the blow.

Giving two good kicks to the gut once (y/n) were down, the man gave her a final word. “You’re not worth it. It never usually works out for the hero, y’know?” He walked away leaving (Y/n) on the street with broken eggs and spilt milk.

“I know.” She whispered in pain.

--------

Returning home empty-handed with a pounding head and a slight limp, (y/n)’s mom was instantly by her side, asking what happened only for her daughter to reply with; “I tripped and broke the eggs and spilt the milk. I’m sorry.” Ignoring the rest of her mom’s questions she walks into the bathroom, opposite her room, and looks in the mirror.

(Y/n) looked to see she already had a shiner swelling up her eye and a cut on her lip. Her cheek had bruised nicely but nothing compared to the pain of her chest. Lifting her shirt, (y/n) found a forming bruise stretching from the side of her waist and across the stomach. In fact, most of the area around her belly button had turned a slightly purple-y colour.

Touching it slightly (y/n) winced. Turning on the shower, she stripped and delved underneath the steaming water that stung at her small cuts and bruises. When (y/n) finally got to bed, everything groaned in protest of any movement.

She knew the type of gossip people would circulate tomorrow; the voices penetrating her mind...

I heard her dad beats her

I heard she's in an underground fighting ring

She's become so depressed and numb she goes out of her way to feel anything.

The last voice (y/n) heard before falling into a slumber was his.

“I win!”

--------

All weekend, (y/n) barely leave the house. Her mom questioned her, the response always came back the same.

Some sick part of her believed Spider-man or Peter, would come and save her. But that’s a fantasy and this was a reality. You couldn’t always have a boy in spandex come and save you; sometimes you needed to help yourself even if you come out worse than before.

When it was time to return to school Monday, (y/n)’s bruises hadn’t faded at all. In fact, they were darker and hurt worse. Knowing she had to just deal with it, (y/n) entered the school’s front doors. Her hoodie was over her head and covered her face when she looked at the floor.

Peter Parker’s spidey senses always just seemed to know when (y/n) was around. Turning towards her direction, he found her in a large hoodie, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes. on Friday, (y/n) was confident and undeniable. Today she struggled under the pressure of everyone’s stares.

Too focused on what could be going on with (y/n), besides the obvious, he failed to notice he’d already made his way to her locker and now stood before her. Hearing the loud slam of the locker as she closed it, still ignoring him, managed to snap Peter out of his thoughts. “(Y/n)” He called slowly.

Turning to look him in the eyes, she pulled her hoodie down. Seeing the state of (y/n)’s face quite frankly shocked Peter. “w-what-what happened?” She looked at him tiredly. Too exhausted from sleepless nights to pick a fight with Peter at this moment.

“I fell.”

“You’re lying.”

“No shit, honestly. Now please move, I’m trying to enter the classroom.”

“Not until you tell me what happened.” He sighed, holding his arm across the door.

“We’re not friends.” (y/n) dragged out slowly. “I don’t have to tell you anything. Now get out of my way Parker, and don’t get in it again.

Pushing past him, (y/n) entered history class and sat at the back.

--------

“Ned, I don’t know what happened to her! The one night I don’t go and crime fight and she gets hurt! I need to get her back!” Peter huffed. Putting his head down and running his hands through his gel-free hair.

“Look man, maybe she just needs space. Distance from you and-” Lowering his voice, “-the Spider-man too.”

“No, the distance is what got her hurt in the first place! She already knows about my alter-ego.” “Wait, since when? And was it before me” Peter gave him a raised eyebrow. “Since we live in the same building, share the same fire escape and she has a habit of star gazing every now and then. None of that rings a bell?”

Ned simply shook his head in a ‘no’. Peter lowered his voice, not risking someone over-hearing him- again. “Well, it wasn’t long after she first kissed me and I was really hurt from fighting some bank robbers with the weird tech. You remember? Well, I sorta just sung onto the fire escape and ripped my mask straight off- stupid I know but it was a hard night. Turns out (y/n) was sitting on what I thought was my fire escape, but was actually hers.”

“That has to be your biggest blonde moment ever.” Ned shook his head in slight humour. “Yeah, but I did get a lot of attention that night. She patched me up and was plenty affectionate. I think that’s where we sorta picked up after she first kissed me.” Ned couldn’t help but slightly smirk at the gooey and love-struck face of Peter Parker.

“I need her back Ned... I haven’t even tried anything to get her back and I’m already out of ideas!”

“That’s because you are weird and can’t communicate with the opposite sex properly. This often results in bad relationships and the inability to give advice.” Both males turn towards a girl standing behind them, also known as Liz Allen.

“Listen, I want to help.”

[Part 3]

Tag List:

@readytocomply15 @suit-lady @eliza-hamilton-helpless @purelittleblueberry @dxnaii-rxse

#spiderman #spider-man #tom holland #spiderman homecoming #peter parker imagine #imagine #peterparker masterlist #peterparkerimagine #marvelimagines #marvel #mcu #ironman #tony stark #captain awkward #SOTTImagine

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ajokeformur-ray · 7 years

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Matchup Request

Hello! May I please request a matchup for Black Butler, Death Note, and Naruto YOI added as per request? I’m a heterosexual girl. I’ll get my physical description over with: I’m 5'5" with an hourglass figure, a natural 34H chest (mentioning because BACK PAIN and self consciousness), pale skin, short dark purple (dyed) hair, and color-changing eyes. I’m introverted with social anxiety and low self esteem and confidence; I don’t like my appearance, and sometimes I hate my personality and interests. I’ve been told I’m attractive many times by non-friends and non-family in a not-creepy way, but I never believe it ;-;. I do MMA, weightlifting, fencing/bladework, gun shooting, and other sports, but I’m pretty lazy unless it’s MMA/fighting, weights, weaponwork, or ~the do~ lol. I love reading, writing, watching television and movies, drawing (well, attempting to), psychology, playing piano (RACHMANINOFF :D), success, cats (explanation as to how much after list), music (heavy metal and classical especially), trying new foods, baking, chess, teasing (sfw and nsfw both ways), and PDA. I love cats so much that in fourth grade, I convinced my parents to get one. My dad is allergic and doesn’t really like cats, and my parents and younger sister prefer dogs, so I made a large spreadsheet and a PowerPoint explaining why I needed a cat. They told me we could get one if I read the entire Cats for Dummies book in four days during the school year, so I did. We got a cat.

Anyways, as a person, I’d say that I’m sarcastic, funny, quick-witted, logical, analytical, passionate about things/people I love, a bit of a loner, quiet around all but a select few, salty, highly intelligent, fun, unpredictable, ambitious, badass, a procrastinator unless I’m inspired/I like whatever it is/it’s a big deal, reliable, easily flustered, hard to manipulate, and honest (almost to a fault in some cases). I’m the kind of person people go to for advice, which always surprises me tbh. I can also be impatient sometimes, and I can be reckless, but I’m never bratty. I’m very mature, apparently. I’m not very good with people who are “too nice”, like happy rays of sunshine all the time, and I’m fairly cynical, though I’m also realistic. Thank you so, so much! :) @shingeki-no-julchen

Sebastian

- Sebastian’s about five inches taller than you so he isn’t likely to tease you for your height. When you get back pain, Sebastian would know straight away and would offer you a back massage or some pain reliever, even if he doesn’t quite understand why your back aches. When you question your attractiveness and your golden personality, he would be indignant on your behalf and would likely lecture you on the rareity of your soul and, why, you should treasure your soul. It’s the only one you have, after all, my lady. *smirk* but he’d never push you to accept it, part of him is amused by that.

- You’re pretty active and Sebastian is naturally impressed by how many hobbies and interests you have. Even fir a human, you’re incredibly varied in what you enjoy and you have both active and relaxing hobbies, regulated and self-expressive ones. He’s not so big on PDA unless propriety accepts it or even demands it in social situations, at which point he’ll do what is necessary in order to maintain his pristine butler aesthetic. He would delight on teasing you in an NSFW way (I’ve written headcanons on this before, DM me if you want links) and would likely make baking a couple activity for the two of you. The way you were so determined to get a cat is one thing he adores about you and will definitely let you see his thirteen cats stuffed away in his wardrobe, as well as the multitude that walk on the grounds, prefering to spend the rare free evenings with you and your kitties.

- You’re pretty well suited to Sebastian, if I’m honest and totally not jealous and the fact that you’re independent, highly intelligent and your unpredictability will keep him on his toes, which means that he’s going to be invested in you, a rare gift from a demon, and will protect you at all costs. He’d likely manipulate you into doing more work when you’re procrastinating, using… Rewards ;) when he thinks you need to get more done. You’re honest so advice is always to the point and that’s probably why a lot of people come to you for it, because they know you won’t sugarcoat it. At least once, Sebastian has pointed out that realism and cynicism are often the same thing in a world such a this.

Light

- Light is all about appearance and that’s really what grabbed his attention about you… Your hair is a stark contrast to your skin and the way your eyes aren’t one set colour definitely intrigues him and he finds himself wanting to know all of the colours your eyes can be. Your differing confidence levels would be ad odds but eventually, through carefully timed compliments and the like, Light would almost show you how to be more confident.

- Aside from basketball, tennis and walking, Light doesn’t physically exercise much, but you do so many different activities that he’s almost shocked by how many you have an interest in, especially the weaponwork. You’re highly intellectual and that sets off with Light from the start and he’s happy to have finally found his equal (excluding L for the time being - sorry, panda boy). You were so determined to get a cat that you got one (kudos by the way omg that’s what I call dedication) and you obviously work hard for what you want. When you told Light about how you got a cat, he’d chuckle. You often relax together doing your own thing, curled up on either of your beds, Light’s arm around your shoulder and your head on his chest as you both read or he’s on his laptop doing work or whatever… It could easily lead to NSFW (also done headcanons on this).

- A lot of your qualities, Light has too, so you get on like a house of fire. You’re unpredictable and just when Light thinks he has you pegged, you take him by surprise and he’s back to square one. Your sarcasm, eye for detail and your ambition all make him want to ask you to be the Goddess of his New World, but you’d have to be together for so long for that to hapen. But somehow… I can almost see it. It’d also be quite a loving relationship, because Light is just so impressed by you and all that you are that he can’t help but be affectionate when it’s just the two of you, as he’s not so hot on PDA.

Itachi

- Itachi is incredibly perceptive so if there’s anything you can’t, won’t, want to or even have said, chances are he already knows and already has a response for you. He would know when you’re feeling especially low and when you need an extra boost and he’d be that for you. He’d compliment you as often as he feels the need to and when he does compliment you, he wouldn’t appreciate a denial as he rarely, if ever, compliments people with utter sincerity.

- You constantly take him by surprise. You have so many active hobbies but an equal number of introverted ones, all of which require some degree of thought or concentration. Your intellect is vast and Itachi finds himself opening up to you about his own hobbies and for sure, he may even observe you partake in them from a distance or offer to do them with you, wanting to spend time with you as his own time is sparse because of his duties as a hinobi and a mmber of ANBU. The length you went to to get a cat is astounding and he’d probably analyse your motives behind it. It’d likely become a point of motivation so if he wanted you to do something especially well, he’d offer up something you’ve wanted for a while, even something as simple as a bar of chocolate. It’s not manipulation it’s more…. delayed gratification.

- You’re both quiet people who are analytical, passionate, intelligent and cynical so you barely talk and are the ocuple who can communicate with a glance or hand gesture, able to understand each other perfectly. Both of you support the other and neither of you sugarcoat the advice you give to each other and it really is very private and loving.

Yurio

- Yurio understands what it means to dislike yourself and to lack confidence and self-esteem; he’s battled with himself and others for almost all of his ice-skating career, trying to be the best but always being overshadowed and it takes a toll, so he’d understand and would make sure to always give you his undivided attention, competition or training permitting of course, though he’d invite you to watch him train or compete. As such, he’s always very complimentary towards you and tries to help you in subtle ways, too. He’s a cute grumpy cat but we all love him anyways.

- Yurio has ice skating and ballet and you have… Well, what don’t you have? Fencing is quite heavy on footwork, or it can be (if I remember rightly) so you’re matched in that and he loves watching you exercise, if there was a means to. He would listen to the music you do, if only because he appreciates the heavier genres, and when you go on dates he takes a double headphone port so you can both jam out at the same time. You work for what you want and so does he, though perhaps you come out the other side better for it whereas Yurio just seems to get beaten all the time.

- You’re both snarky as all hell and you’re both quite passionate. Yurio can shut people out when he’s down or angry, and when he’s angry he’s very passionate and motivated so perhaps you get to know him when he blurts out secret feelings or thoughts in anger, only to regret it as soon as his brain catches up to his mouth. Angry sex is definitely a thing though the anger is rarely directed at you - how can he be mad at the person who brings out the best and the worst in him but loves him all the same? You’re honest to a fault so when Yurio’s being a dick you’re not afraid to tell him and he’ll go sullen for a time but will eventually pull through and really, you just support and love each other unconditionally, providing unknowing entertainment for those who overhear you sassing each other.

#match up #black butler #naruto #death note #other #submission #yuri on ice #sebastian michaelis #itachi uchiha #light yagami #yurio plisetsky

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crowleyaj · 7 years

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Because We Are a Family

Ahh, I forgot again, didn’t I? Jeez, I’m worse than Viktor XD Anyway, day seven of 9DaysCWC.

Sanvers + Karolsen. Dinner at the Danvers sisters’ place.

There was a knock on the door. Kara, with her superpowers, heard it before anyone else did, so she scurried to open it with a notice to the others, “I’ve got it!”

She swung the door open. In the hallway, there stood Jimmy Olsen with a colourful bouquet of flowers (roses, tulips, lilies, gerberas, carnations, ferns to border it) in one hand and a bottle of champagne in the other, as though they did not have one in the fridge already.

“Hey, Kara,” he smiled. “Merry Christmas!”

“James! Come on in!” Her mouth spread into a wide smile the moment she saw her boyfriend. She completely forgot she was mad at him for he was late. “And let me help you with this.”

She reached for the bottle, but James handed her the bouquet instead. “These are for you, Kara,” he said, and she blushed, even despite she knew there was no reason for blushing. They dated for months, now.

She brought the flowers to her nose, and smelled. Her sensitive nose breathed in the unique fragrances caressing all of her senses, scented and recognised them all, brought up another smile that made her eyes sparkle like the Christmas tree standing in the living room.

She looked up, looked him in the eye. “Thank you, James, they are beautiful.”

He leant for a quick kiss on the lips.

Then, James finally closed the door (decorated by a wreath made of fir needles, oranges, holly, and fake rime at the tips of the needles), took off is coat, and came to welcome Alex, Winn, Mon-El, J’onn, and Kara’s mother. He has been worried about his belated arrival, yet having seen the group, he found out there still was one person missing.

Maggie. Alex was worried. She glanced at the large clock on the wall nervously.

Christmas dinner was a crucial point in their relationship. They were… making it official, by which they made Alex’s orientation official in front of the people closest to her as well. Her family knew – but their friends did not, not yet.

James gave the still cold and dewy bottle to Mrs Danvers, who expressed her thanks and put it in the refrigerator so the sparkling yellow beverage wouldn’t get tepid in the room before it will have been drunk.

Kara found a vase for the flowers, poured water in it, and put the bouquet on the table, between two lit star-shaped candles.

The turkey was almost ready. The decorations glistened in the blinking Christmas lights, and the tree was nearly overflowing with presents. But…

“Do you know where Maggie is?” Kara asked her sister silently as she approached her. “Did she say anything…?”

“I don’t know. I tried to call her, but she’s not answering,” replied Alex with anxious tinge in her voice and a frown. She pulled out her mobile again. No missed calls or texts.

“Could she be working on a case she hasn’t told you about?” Kara wondered. She glanced at the men helping their mother with final preps for the dinner.

“Perhaps,” Alex hesitated. “As for aliens, there is nothing the DEO wouldn’t be aware of. But what if she—?”

“Don’t worry, Alex, she’ll come,” she tried to comfort her with a hand on her shoulder and a sincere smile. “I know she will. And besides, what do I have my hearing for?”

Kara got an idea. If there were a fortuitous event for NCPD to intervene in, she would have found out by sirens or alarms or even the sounds of bullets flying through the air in high speed. She crossed the room, opened the balcony door, and walked outside. She listened.

Mostly, she could hear people in their homes, television programmes, riding cars, the usual rush of National City traffic. There were animal sounds too, in the background, and the perpetual hum of electricity, factories, working people. And behind that, Kara heard the familiar screeching of police hooters.

It was insignificant, though. Just one car alone in the outskirts of the city, chasing after a petty thief or someone like that. There was no danger, for once. It was Christmas, the time of peace and miracles, after all.

“Nothing. No case of emergency,” she reported. The others have begun to worry as well, seeing her look out for whatever she was looking for at the balcony. They inevitably thought Supergirl mode meant trouble and danger approaching.

But then she said it was no case of emergency, which was a good omen. However, something was definitely going on, and it probably involved Alex’s detective friend who still has not come yet.

“What’s going on? Can we eat dinner already?” Mon-El chimed in with another one of his wannabe innocent and relieving comments confirmed by a loud growl of his insatiate stomach.

“No, we have to wait for our friend Maggie to arrive and then we can eat dinner,” Winn explained patiently, although he was starving as well.

“Oh.”

James pulled the turkey from the oven, and a cloud of steam and spicy scent of roast escaped it. The kitchen smelled wonderfully, like Christmas and tranquillity. Kara thought he looked truly great in a white shirt tight against his muscular form and striped oven gloves.

Then she caught the sound of steps on the stairs that could only belong to one person walking to one place.

“And we don’t have to wait for much longer, because she’s coming!” she said enthusiastically. She and everyone else had to pretend they did not know about it and not walk to the door to open for her early. Maggie still did not know Kara was Supergirl.

Alex needed to smile at the mere mention of her girlfriend, and more at the fact she was all right, late probably because of the traffic. She was relieved.

More so when she heard four firm knocks. Kara wanted to go open as she has every time, but Alex stopped her. She was the one to greet Maggie Sawyer.

It was her flat too.

When she saw her standing in the doorway, dressed in an actual fucking dress and beaming widely with that adorable smile of hers, Alex’s knees suddenly felt so weak, and her heart stuttered.

“Maggie—you look stunning,” she complimented her gorgeous appearance, almost unable to speak. She could say nothing more, though, and she could do nothing more than to give her a hug, although all she wished for was to pull her in for a deep kiss.

“So do you, beauty,” Maggie whispered as she held Alex, dressed in a simple deep blue dress herself, close. Her hands were full of paper bags clinging to Alex’s back; some of them were sharp enough to hurt. “Apologies I’m late, I had to investigate few stores for selling the perfect late minute presents.”

That was to everyone, not just her.

Alex pulled away before the hug was awkwardly long for friends. She told her to put her presents to the others, and Kara and everyone else wished her merry Christmas and welcomed her to the family.

Because that was what they were, a family of aliens and agents and reporters and life saviours.

It was drawing near eight. Time to eat. Time to celebrate. Time to enjoy being in the presence of one’s closest, with no evil extraterrestrial life forms threatening to destroy Earth or enslave its inhabitants.

J’onn took the turkey. Winn took the potatoes and vegetables. Mon-El took the two fruit pies, trying hard not to taste them; he was sure they were the most delicious thing of it all, and wanted to know. James took the drinks, Kara and Mother the glasses. They put all the food on the festively set table, and took their assigned seats.

Mrs Danvers and J’onn sat in the honourable front chairs, while the two couples and Winn with Mon-El (Mike for the evening) occupied the central seats, always vis-à-vis each other. Mrs Danvers carved the turkey, and everyone took a piece, just as a dollop of vegetables.

Before they got down to eating the dinner, there was a toast, just like on Thanksgiving. They did not say what they were thankful for but what they hoped of 2017 to bring. Everyone had one New Year’s resolution to pronounce, and after that, time for a carol came.

But before singing the song, Alex had something to say.

And they listened to every word, this time with no interruptions. If she weren’t sure about something before, now she gained confidence with every word spoken, especially with the support of Kara and Mother.

At the end of her speech, Maggie said they finally could kiss under the mistletoe just like James and Kara did every time they found themselves beneath it, and everyone laughed.

It was not that hard, after all. Alex was and always will be a part of the family, no matter what. They accepted her, who she was, the relationship between her and Maggie. Because sometimes girls like girls and it’s okay. It’s beautiful.

The eight people sang Good King Wenceslas (seven, actually; Mon-El wasn’t familiar with the lyrics) as if nothing happened, toasted, and cut the roast turkey. It was delicious as ever.

When the bird was gone, all vegetables were gone, and the pies were gone, resting in their stomachs in a pool of champagne, the two women stood by their promise and shared a long, desired kiss.

#9dayscwc2016 #supergirl #dc comics #sanvers #karolsen #fanfic #*fanfic #christmas #kara danvers #alex danvers #eliza danvers #maggie sawyer #james olsen #j'onn j'onzz #winn schott #mon el

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