#It may simply be pointless to ask and I disappoint myself by holding hope for anything

[straydawg-writing]

𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞'𝐬 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦.

- 𝓚. 𝙯𝙤𝙡𝙙𝙮𝙘𝙠

• hunter x hunter series

⋯✰⋯

Chapter 2–

You knew that if anyone outside of this car saw you right now, you might just pass away. To put it simply: You were sitting on Killua's lap.

All because Kite's truck only fit seven people.

The way this predicament came about would have been comical if it weren't for your burning embarrassment. Unfortunately, you could remember very clearly how it all unfolded:

"Hmm, it seems that there aren't enough seats for all eight of us, so one person will have to squish in," Kite said, opening the car door to check the seats.

"Who's the smallest one here?" Gon asked. All seven pairs of eyes turned to look at you.

Great. The benefits of never having had your growth spurt.

Killua was the one to open his mouth, snickering, "Obviously it's Y/N. She's like a midget!"

"Killua, you are literally an entire 2 ½ feet shorter than Kite over there," you defended yourself.

From a distance, you had guessed Kite was around 6'3. Once you got a closer look at him, you discovered that he towered over you like a skyscraper. Your curiosity got the best of you and naturally, you had asked him what his height was. The man was a whopping 7 foot 10.

"It's okay Y/N, you can squish with me," Gon offered.

Killua shook his head. "No way. Squishing will just make everyone uncomfortable. It's better if only one person suffers. Y/N, you can sit on my lap."

He had left no room for argument. Sighing, you knew that even if you tried, you had no say in this anymore. You would just have to suck it up for the next 4 hours.

Now you were here, sitting on him, worrying about whether you were cutting the circulation off to his legs or not. Or perhaps you were too bony and it was hurting him.

You could feel his warm breath on your neck, and it sent goosebumps across your entire body. This was beyond awkward.

"Stop it," Killua muttered, right in your ear.

Oh, you'd done it now, hadn't you? Killua was gonna push you off onto Gon instead.

"Stop what?"

"You're so stiff, just...relax," he paused, "I don't mind sitting this way."

Hearing his voice so close to you sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

Maybe this was okay.

You untensed, trying to adjust yourself to a more comfortable position, but the bumpy car ride wasn't making it very easy. Kite ran over a rock, and without a seatbelt it sent you jerking upwards. Thanks to his fast reflexes, Killua gripped your waist, holding you tightly to his body.

"The seatbelt won't reach over the both of us, but this'll keep you from flying."

"Heh, thanks Killua. I think we should reach the beach in a bit..." you said, hoping that the thought of it being over soon might offer him some relief.

It doesn't matter who it is, being this close to someone could send anyone into a frenzy. You were hyper-aware of every one of his fingers grasping onto your waist. He wasn't lying. He was keeping you right there.

You'd just have to stop thinking about it, you told yourself. Or else you'd go crazy.

Trying to relax back into Killua like he had asked, you let your mind wander to the reason you were driving in the first place. The day before, the three of you had decided to stick with Kite and help him investigate the Chimera ants. The beach you were headed to now is supposed to have a clue about where the ant queen is located, so you could bring an end to the destruction before it starts. During the car ride, you had learned they were a truly deadly species. One bite of an innocent passerby, and they had the means to bring the entire human race to extinction.

You felt like something was starting. And your intuition was rarely wrong.

Gazing at Gon who had been talking with Kite for a while now, you noticed how his eyes crinkle into little smiles whenever he talks. You knew that having Kite around, his father's best friend, surely excited him to the bone. Gon was just oozing with optimism, without even trying. You could tell that just by being himself, he was keeping the spirits up of all eight in the group, not allowing any room for doubt or fear to creep into anyone's minds.

At that moment, you swore that whatever happened, you would be there to protect Gon and Killua. Even if it costs you everything.

Hopefully, this wasn't one of your friends' last few moments of tranquility. But if it was, you were determined to spend it well.

Resting your head against Killua, you hoped that he wouldn't mind if you indulged in this for just a moment. You were tired, having not gotten much rest since completing Greed Island and meeting Kite.

It didn't take much time for you to fall asleep to the rise and fall of Killua's steady breathing and his sweet vanilla scent. If you'd been awake, you might have even heard his heartbeat racing beneath you.

⋯✰⋯

You had finally reached the beach.

Killua had nudged you awake once you'd gotten there. You remembered how his blue eyes stared back at you as he poked your face, calling you an idiot for falling asleep, and you chuckled.

There was one thing you were clueless about; Killua had made sure not to move even once the whole rest of the car ride. He was nervous that he might disturb your peacefully sleeping form.

You were still pretty groggy as you looked out at the sea, the bright sun reflecting on the ocean's surface. You wanted to wiggle your toes in the sand, but you were there for a reason. To find anything that might lead to the Queen.

You searched in bushes, behind rocks, under seashells, and even used your nen to sift through as much sand as you could. So far, the group had ruled out the forest and deemed it difficult to know if the ant even ended up on the same island. That's when they decided to release the hellhound. Well- it wasn't a hellhound. It was the little dog you played with yesterday. Along with Gon.

Gon was following behind the dog on all floors, sniffing the ground as he went.

"He can do that?" You asked no one in particular.

"His nose is as sharp as a dog's," Killua responded, watching Gon with an amused look in his eye.

A couple minutes went by with no luck. The only thing the dog had found was a tree to pee on. It looked like the ant wasn't going to be on this island, though Kite had an idea.

"It may have washed ashore somewhere else. Which direction do the currents flow here?" Kite asked the two that had brought us down to the beach. One was short with brown skin and grey hair that sprouted up like hay, while the other had large glasses and two front teeth poking out from his mouth.

"The direction is reversed between day and night. And it also changes with the seasons. I've even heard it's different on certain days. So it'll be tough to pinpoint a location..." said Chipmunk Teeth. That's what you'd call him, since you hadn't gotten his name.

So basically, no one had any idea on how to find the Chimera Ant Queen.

"Continuing to search blindly is pointless. We should return to YorkNew and see if we can find any new leads there."

You heard the group around you agreeing with Kite. He and his friends began walking back to the truck already, but you stayed put. You would catch up to them later.

The ocean reminded you of your home. You thought you should say goodbye to it first.

Ripples of water lapped gently at your feet. You always had a connection with nature. Having lived in a small village located in the middle of a jungle most of your life, the earth had become your dearest friend. One of your earliest memories was from exploring the coves back at home. You stretched out your arm across the water, and watched the liquid softly rise to your hand as you called it.

That's why you chose this nen ability. It tied you to the elements. When you fought with it, together you were one body.

"Y/N, come on! Kite's threatening to leave without you," Gon waved you over. Taking one last look at the sea, you turned away.

The sun was already setting by the time you left for the city.

⋯✰⋯

Going back to YorkNew was the right decision. Now you all knew where to look.

Kite had discovered that the possibilities of the Chimera Ant landing in NGL were the highest. Apparently, NGL was a country populated with people who wanted to get away from machine civilization and live in nature.

You loved nature too, but you thought that was a little extreme. There was a reason you had to leave your beloved jungle behind.

"There may very well be a giant swarm of Chimera Ants already hunting humans down. If that's the case, my top priority will be saving them. You must be able to protect yourselves," Kite warned us.

"And if I am the one in trouble, you should escape without me."

At that, Gon and Killua looked unsettled. But backing down now was not an option.

"Got it," you said, breaking the silence and offering a kind nod to Kite, "and until the very last moment, the three of us will have your back."

"Yeah!" The other two boys concurred.

Now, you sat with Gon and Killua on an airship to NGL. The three of you were sitting on a bench, looking out of a window that framed velvet-peach clouds displaying brilliant silver linings.

Gon was reflecting on their last conversation with Kite.

"You said that Ging had a reason for bringing me and Kite together," he rested his arms and head on the window-frame.

Killua broke his sight from the clouds and looked at Gon.

"Yeah, I did."

"You're probably right. I don't know the reason, but I can't give up halfway, no matter what's going on. Otherwise, I'll disappoint Ging... And I'd never be able to forgive myself either. So I won't run away," Gon continued, resolved with his decision.

There was a moment of silence as the three of you let his words sink in.

You admired Gon's determination, but you hated that Ging had a son risking his life just to avoid disappointing a dad he's never met.

"Man, you had this totally serious expression, so I was expecting something big. But it's just business as usual," Killua smiled.

"Huh?" Gon's mouth hung open. "I thought about this a lot, I even ran a bunch of mental simulations! And I liked what Y/N said earlier, about having Kite's back until the very end."

"Think all you want, but you'll still be Gon. If someone said to abandon them, you'd never do it," You lightly punched his shoulder.

He pouted, cradling where you hit him, and you rolled your eyes.

"Drama queen."

Gon chose to ignore that and turned back to Killua. "Then what would you do?'"

"I'm a spontaneous guy, so I'd think about it once the time comes."

"So, you'd run away?" Gon questioned.

"Depends. I can't say until it actually happens."

"Say for instance..."

Killua threw his hands up, beat, "I can't tell you what I'd do in a hypothetical situation!"

"Then, what about you Y/N?"

"Gon!" You whined.

Truth be told, you hadn't thought about what you would do. It depended like Killua said. But you did know one thing...

"I would never leave you two behind. Even if that meant I'd have to die."

⋯✰⋯

#hunter x hunter #killua x reader #killua zoldyck x reader #hunterxhunter fanfiction #hxh #self insert #y/n #hxh fanfic #chimera ant arc #kite #angst #fluff

[kae-karo]

May I request Kaeya “well this is a predicament”

this did not in any way go the direction i was expecting but i hope u enjoy it lmaoooooo tysm as always bb 💜🐙💜

[send me a dialogue prompt from this list and a genshin character!] 

tags: canon divergence, grompy diluc, a lil bit of zhongluc at the end there for funsies

----

“And I won’t do you the service of assuming you’re intelligent, so let me tell you about the lovely chains currently binding you!” 

Diluc huffs out a breath of irritation - really, they get it, Dottore’s a mad genius and has some incredible plan that likely involves his and Kaeya’s untimely and rather gruesome deaths, probably at the behest of some scientific research or other. 

“Oh, these? Do tell,” Kaeya prompts - an entirely unnecessary thing, but he seems to be having quite a lot of fun bantering with the doctor. Diluc squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, feels the full weight of the chains wrapped tight around his chest and waist, binding him back to back with Kaeya.

The chains wrap his wrists and ankles as well, and his hands are starting to ache from the angle and pressure.

“These incredible feats of engineering are infused with electro energy!” Dottore announces as though he expects a round of applause. Diluc turns to stare at him, impatient. “If either of you archons-blessed Vision-wielders happen to activate your wonderful powers, you’ll be-”

“Hit with the impacts of the elemental reaction, we understand,” Diluc deadpans, and the doctor’s wide grin falters for a moment. Drops into a dangerous sort of grimace that Diluc only quirks a brow at.

“Watch your tongue,” he hisses, “or I’ll cut it out myself.” 

“Quite an impressive threat, and a rather impressive invention as well,” Kaeya says with honey in his tone. Diluc should probably be grateful for the way Kaeya attempts to smooth things over, but he did not ask Kaeya to follow him here. Did not ask for his help, and wouldn’t need it. He’d probably be out of these chains and halfway home by now if Kaeya hadn’t spent the past ten minutes egging Dottore on, keeping him around and chattering on about his fabricated plans.

It’d be one thing if the man had said anything of value, but it has become painfully clear that he intends only to hold Kaeya and Diluc hostage, perhaps perform some arbitrary - if disturbing - experiments on them and their Visions. They will not die, at least not yet.

“Now, I simply must ask-” Kaeya starts again, and Diluc elbows him hard in the back of his ribs. To his credit, Kaeya only coughs out a heavy breath, then hums a sound like he’d simply paused to think. “I must ask what you intend to do once the Knights determine our whereabouts?” 

Diluc rolls his eyes - perfect, keep the man talking and continue to prolong their opportunity to escape. If they do, in fact, escape this, Diluc might very well take these chains with him. Perhaps that would prevent Kaeya from finding a way to interfere in every one of his intentionally clandestine activities.

His hands clench tight in fists, and he relishes the ache it brings to his wrists - at least he still has feeling there, though he can’t determine how much longer that will last.

“The Knights of Favonius?” Dottore laughs, a sharp sound. “Oh, I have no concerns. The Knights’ ineptitude is rather well known.”

“On that, we can agree,” Diluc grumbles under his breath, but the doctor seems still acutely focused on Kaeya.

“Do you expect your dear heroes to save you? I can assure you, they will not find head nor tail of either of you,” he says with what Diluc can only describe as immense pleasure at the prospect. His own jaw ticks with barely-bridled rage.

His attention sharpens at the sound of footsteps, and he turns as far as he can manage. But the newcomer must be directly behind him - and directly in Kaeya’s line of sight - because he can’t turn quite far enough to see.

“Il Dottore, sir.” A low tone, deferent, so likely some underling of the doctor’s. “It seems some of our other...guests require your...attention. It’s rather urgent,” they add, and Diluc watches Dottore for any sign of what they might be referring to.

A wicked grin curls his lips, though, as he watches this newcomer.

“Of course, of course.” His eyes flash when he turns back to Kaeya and Diluc. “And with that, my dear friends,” Diluc flinches at the word, “I must depart. Please, remain here,” he says with a manic sort of laugh, then rushes off beyond Diluc’s field of vision.

Diluc exhales slowly at the sound of a door closing, then squeezes his eyes shut. Considers their options.

“Well,” Kaeya starts, tone infuriatingly light. “This is a predicament.”

“Is it,” Diluc deadpans, glares at the wall across from him because he cannot turn to glare at Kaeya properly. “And do tell, what on Teyvat was the purpose in delaying Dottore like that?” His tone takes on an edge, both from his increasing discomfort and latent irritation at Kaeya’s unrequested company.

Unrequested interference.

“No reason really,” Kaeya says, and Diluc growls low in the back of his throat. “Oh, don’t get so worked up. I’m sure we’ll figure a way out before he returns.” 

“I assume you expect me to figure a way out, is that it?” Gods, he can’t imagine how Kaeya’s kept any ranking with the Knights with this attitude. Once upon a time, he cared fiercely for ensuring his - and Diluc’s - success. Would do anything under the sun to make it happen, no matter the cost. And yet, he leans back into Diluc’s shoulders with a contented sort of sigh, like he’s relaxed on a beach somewhere.

Like he’s just waiting to be rescued instead of making an effort to rescue himself.

“When did you become so insufferable,” Diluc grits out, mostly to himself as he tests the strength and tightness of the chains around his ankles. They pull the second he shifts, and he can feel a prickle of something dancing through the metal. It seems Dottore was quite serious about the elemental infusion, then, and Diluc is not stupid enough to risk testing his fire against it.

“I’ve always been insufferable,” Kaeya says easily, clearly amused. “When did you stop putting up with it?” 

Diluc bites his tongue - they both know the answer to that. A heavy sort of silence falls around them, then, and Diluc shifts his focus pointedly to the chains binding his wrists.

“I do not intend to make you do all the work of finding a way out of this predicament,” Kaeya says, tone unexpectedly flat. Resigned, almost, and Diluc frowns down at the chains.

“Excellent. You have an idea?” Better not to get caught up in it, whatever Kaeya’s thinking. Planning, manipulating. Why else have that tone of voice?

“Don’t need one.”

Diluc blows out an exasperated breath. Why does he even bother? He should know better than to get his hopes up with Kaeya.

And yet, at every opportunity, he can feel that tiny spark - maybe this time will be different, maybe Kaeya will prove himself trustworthy, maybe he’ll return to acting like he used to, maybe-

Maybe Diluc is only deluding himself, but try as he might, he’s yet to quash that tiny spark, and disappointment awaits him every time. Disappointment in himself, too - it’s his own fault for expecting Kaeya to act differently. 

A hinge creaks, then, and Diluc straightens up, clears his head of pointless thoughts and focuses on what he’s able to learn from the sound of footsteps approaching. They’re quiet, not loud, and he suspects that it is not Dottore that visits them.

“Ah, right on schedule,” Kaeya says with a smirk that Diluc can hear even if he’s unable to see it. Unease twists through his stomach - an ally of Kaeya’s, perhaps? That’d explain his disinterest in trying to escape, though how he’d planned this, Diluc remains uncertain.

“Naturally. Ah, what an interesting invention.” Diluc doesn’t recognize the voice, and the person remains somewhere behind him and out of sight. Irritation flickers through his head - could Kaeya not have simply mentioned that he had someone coming to find them? That’d certainly have saved Diluc the irritation and concern, at least partly.

“You can take them with you, if you want,” Kaeya says disinterestedly. “Just neutralize the electro energy-” An abrupt snap, most certainly metallic in nature, and Kaeya hums an impressed sort of sound. “Or that.” 

As he speaks, the chains tying Diluc to Kaeya loosen and pool in his lap, and Diluc pulls away from Kaeya the moment he’s able. Kaeya falls back into him, but only for a moment before he rights himself, and Diluc extracts himself from the loose chains to find-

A very tall man staring down at him, and not at all bearing the appearance of one of Kaeya’s usual acquaintances. This man is refined and dignified, undoubtedly - nothing short of regal - and he extends a hand as though he means to help Diluc to his feet.

When Diluc reaches for it, though, the man instead grabs for the chain still binding Diluc’s wrists. It takes a very concerted effort to remain in control of his surprise when the man pulls at the chains, rips them apart like they’re little more than paper.

“Your legs?” 

Diluc’s lips part at the question, and he bites back a dumbfounded ‘what about my legs?’ Naturally, the man intends to remove the chains binding him there as well. He crouches down to Diluc’s level, though Diluc notes that he remains nearly a head taller, even like this.

The man tips his head, then, and Diluc rushes to swing his legs around. Again, the metallic snap, and the chains fall from his sore ankles. He rolls them experimentally, pleased to find them mostly unharmed, and the man straightens up. Behind him, Kaeya wanders the room, and Diluc might care a little about what he’s doing - or planning - except that this unknown man continues to stare down at him.

Extends a hand, and Diluc takes it this time. Why he’s surprised at the ease with which the man pulls him to his feet, he can’t quite say. Can’t say much at all, when he’s all but frozen chest-to-chest with the man, and Diluc tips his head back.

Gold eyes stare unabashedly into his, warm and bright, and Diluc stumbles a step back. Clears his throat.

“We’re leaving?” He doesn’t mean it as a question, but uncertainty slips into his tone. Neither Kaeya nor this...acquaintance? Friend? Whoever he is, though Diluc intends to do some research once they’ve returned to safety. In any event, neither of them seems in any particular rush, though Kaeya hums what might be an agreement at Diluc’s words.

“Oh, ah, by the way,” Kaeya adds as he returns to where Diluc and their mysterious rescuer stand in the center of the room. “Diluc, please meet my dear friend and ally, Zhongli. Zhongli, Diluc.”

“I’ve heard quite a lot about you, Diluc.” Oh. His voice is quite...smooth. Pleasing to listen to. Diluc blinks a few times, attempts to focus.

“I’ll admit, I’ve heard nothing at all about you.” This, for some unknown reason, makes Zhongli’s lip tick up at the corner - almost a smile, and Diluc finds himself unexpectedly warmed by it. 

“You can continue flirting another time, Zhongli. I believe we have places to be?” Kaeya’s tone drips with teasing, and Diluc swallows, feels heat flood his veins and rush to his cheeks. If Zhongli is bothered by this assertion, he does not give any indication. Gods, he doesn’t even deny it. 

Was he, then? Flirting? With Diluc?

“Namely, not here?”

Zhongli’s smile widens just a fraction at Kaeya’s words before he turns, and Diluc stares for a frankly inordinate amount of time before Zhongli’s - and Kaeya’s - disappearance through the door startles him forward.

Right, they need to worry about getting out of here first. Diluc can concern himself with Zhongli’s...maybe-flirting another time.

#genshin #genshin impact #zhongluc #diluc #kaeya #revyourriley #ask

[little-writings]

can i request a fanfic where mc is a veterinarian with her own clinic and the reason she meets jumin is because of elizabeth needing a checkup!

Oh my goodness absolutely! This was actually so fun to write! 

Anyhow, I hope you have an amazing day and enjoy!

———————————————————————————————————–

“How long has it been since Elizabeth 3rd has been to the vet?” V asked, grinning fondly as the snowy-white cat pressed against his legs, a purr beginning to rumble in her throat.  

“She doesn’t need to see a vet. She’s in perfect health.” Jumin remarked, fiddling with the cuffs of his sleeves absentmindedly. “I have a chef prepare her a perfectly figured diet, one of the most  accalimed groomers brush her coat once a week, and-”  

“They’re supposed to get examined yearly.”  

“Who are?”  

V scoffed. “Cats, dogs, and any other animal you could call a pet.”  

“I’ll see about having a house veterinarian come by.”  

“Well, I’ve actually been hearing quite a bit about a certain veterinarian. I think you’d like them.”  

“Are they on call?”  

“No, they have a well-established practice downtown.”  

“Then I’m not interested.” Jumin stated matter-of-factly. “Taking Elizabeth 3rd outside presents too many risks. She could get hurt, lost or both – or even worse. I would never forgive myself if that were to happen.”  

V’s brows furrowed behind his tinted frames. “They’re apparently one of the best in the country. I hear there’s not a pet they don’t get along with.”  

“I would hope so, being a professional. That doesn’t change the fact that it’s an on-site practice. Any potential danger to Elizabeth 3rd isn’t worth it.”  

“Do you really think I’d recommend something that could hurt Elizabeth 3rd?”  

Jumin jerked his head to V and found himself stumbling over his words, cornered by his own stubborn mind. “What? No, I ah – no of course not.”  

The ends of V’s lips curled up and he knelt down to scratch Elizabeth behind the ears, her quiet purring volume erupting to that of a lawnmower.  

“Then give them a try.”  

Jumin wrinkled his nose. “Why are you so adamant?”  

“Because,” V simpered. “I think you’d like them.”  

Jumin didn’t have to ask the next question for V to know what he was wondering.  

“They’re professional and very devoted to their work,” He rose to his feet and rummaged through his jacket, snagging a crisp, clean card from his pocket. He gave it to Jumin who eyed it curiously.  

“In fact, they remind me of you.”  

Jumin paused. Pawprints bordered the card alongside hearts and a phone number he supposed he had no choice but to call at this point. He hardly saw V enough these days, the last thing he wanted to do was disappoint him.  

“I’ll… I’ll think about it.”  

And so, later that evening, he found himself calling.  

“Loving Paws Animal Hospital, how can I help you?” The voice on the other line was sickeningly sweet and welcoming, as though dipped in honey and soaked in sugar.  

Jumin paused and bit the inside of his cheek, swallowing his pride. ”Yes, I’d like to speak to your lead veterinarian?”  

“MC? They’re currently with a client at the moment, but I’d be more than happy to transfer you to their voicemail. Have we seen the pet before?”  

“No. No one has.”  

The secretary must’ve been left at a loss at the stern tone and proclamation, but she did her best regardless against the statue that was Jumin Han.

“So, it’s a new pet?”  

“No.”

“Then… you’re a new client?”  

“Yes. Potentially.”  

Jumin heard an attempt at a stifled snicker and the hospital gained a mental strike in his mind.  

“Okay well, I’ll just go ahead and transfer you to MC’s voicemail. You have a wonderful day, sir!”

That sugary sweetness returned once more, perhaps even more high-pitched than it had been. There was a pause on the other line before your voicemail began. Your voice, in comparison, was light, airy. Jumin could only think of a pleasant song when listening to it – something he found himself falling into.

“Hi this is MC, I can’t get to the phone right now but if you’ll leave a message I’ll do my best to get back to you as soon as I can!”

Despite all the preparedness Jumin thought he might’ve had, he still managed to stumble the second that alerting sound went off.

“I-I ah yes – my name is Jumin Han, and I was considering setting up an appointment for my cat, Elizbeth 3rd. It’s just for an annual exam, though I don’t even think she really needs it she’s in pristine-”

Jumin realized he was rambling and cleared his throat sheepishly.

“Anyways, I was hoping I could ask you some questions before making a final decision. If you would call me back, it’d be appreciated. Thank you.”

Jumin let out a deep sigh and relented to the horrible process of waiting.

You returned the phone call in the evening when the warm oranges, purples, and slightest hues of a deep, murky blue were settling in and spreading overhead. Jumin answered in an instant.

“Hi! Is this Mr. Han?” Your voice was even softer beyond a recorded message. You sounded sweet, but just the tiniest bit tired.

“Yes. MC, isn’t it? I’ve heard many things about you.”

You chuckled. “Good things I hope.”

A smile tugged at Jumin’s face. “Good things only. It has set my expectations high.”

“Well, I’d be delighted to meet those expectations, Mr. Han. Now, what can I do for your Elizabeth 3rd?”

“Technically speaking, there is nothing that’s necessary. Elizabeth 3rd is perfectly taken care of. I simply can’t imagine any problems arising for such a creature.”

“And what kind of perfect creature is she?”

“She is a Persian.”

You thought for a moment, and Jumin could hear a pen tapping against a desk. “Persian cats can have some complications, even if they’re in otherwise perfect living conditions. Unfortunately, it just comes with the breed.”

A sudden twisting of knots appeared in Jumin’s stomach. He tensed. “Such as…?”

“Well, you know their cute little smushed faces? Like pugs their nasal passages are shorter and more susceptible to their environments.”

Jumin opened his mouth to speak, but you continued on like a textbook’s worth of knowledge had just been released.

“And Persians specifically are prone to polycystic kidney disease, and you have to watch out for that because if ignored when they reach eight or nine years old they could suddenly collapse and die-”

You stopped yourself. You might’ve not needed to jump to that immediate conclusion.

“But I uh – it is also perfectly possible that Elizabeth 3rd is in a completely healthy state!”

Jumin was now staring wide-eyed at Elizabeth 3rd who sat uncaringly in the center of the living room. She was grooming herself and only her tail was lightly swaying from side to side across the carpet. She appeared almost serene.

‘They could suddenly collapse and die.”

A pit crumpled in Jumin’s insides.

“When’s the soonest I can come in?”

You laughed nervously. There was a clicking of a computer mouse and a brief moment of silence where you glanced through the schedule. “I can squeeze you in tomorrow afternoon?”

“I’ll be there.”

“Mr. Han… are you okay?”

Jumin looked once more at Elizabeth 3rd who now raised her head to meet him. She closed and opened her eyes slowly, mewing.

“I will be when I know Elizabeth 3rd is okay.”

You sighed. “It sounds like Elizabeth 3rd has a very devoted pet parent. She is lucky to have you Mr. Han.”

“I am lucky to have her.”

The call ended soon after with you meekly attempting to assuage his fears, and Jumin beginning to pace about Elizabeth like any cause for concern he’d already miss would simply leap out for a dramatic entrance.

Jumin could now hardly wait for the appointment he considered pointless just hours ago.

V may or may not have received multiple texts of concerns throughout the night. The internet truly did not help the situation.

‘I read online that Persians with blue eyes can have something called Congenital ankyloblepharon. While the website says it’s not deadly, another said it’s linked to a fatal disease.’

‘Because of Elizabeth’s small nasal passage, a website is now telling me Elizabeth will more than likely develop a heart condition. Elizabeth 3rd does not deserve this.’

V had begged him to just wait until tomorrow and Jumin reluctantly agreed.

When the appointment finally arrived, Jumin had made sure Elizabeth would only travel in the best his wealth could provide. However, diamond-encrusted cat carriers apparently took a great deal of time to create, so a polyester and mesh carrier would have to do – lined with sherpa, of course, and filled with her favorite toys.

While Jumin had been anxious and fidgety the entire drive, Elizabeth 3rd was curious, excited even. When Elizabeth was pawing at the mesh lining to peek closer at the car window Jumin was tugging at his sleeves and holding his breath. Even Driver Kim took notice, though his support did little to ease his worries.

He only felt a little ease when he finally arrived at the clinic. The secretary had been stunned at the famous heir’s arrival, but quickly recognized his voice. Her surprise then shifted to amusement, a sly smile stretched across her face.

“Hello Mr. Han! How’re you doing today?”

Jumin furrowed his brow, glancing away. “I am… anticipating my meeting with MC.”

“Stressed for the little lady?” The secretary pointed with her pen to Elizabeth 3rd, now rolled over on her back and playing with one of her toys. This was easily one of her favorite days already.

“Very much so.” Jumin answered.

“We’ll be sure to get you in quick then.”

Jumin nodded hurriedly, and sat down. When his name was called he nearly tripped from how quickly he shot up. It was a… difficult day for maintaining composure.

He ran his fingers through his hair, took a deep breath, and then proceeded on through the hall where you waited in the consulting room.

He hadn’t quite known what he’d expected when he saw you, but he still found himself without words, if only for a second. Your face was kind, far more than the ones he’d known throughout his life with eyes that offered a sense of comfort to soften the stress so clearly brimming at the surface.

“Hi Mr. Han.” You set a ginger hand on Jumin’s shoulder, offering a warm smile. “I heard you’re feeling a little concerned for Elizabeth 3rd?”

“That is an understatement.”

You folded your lips in thought, drawing your hand away only to lightly clap, determined. “Well I’ve never met an animal I can’t help, and I don’t intend to stop now.”

A bit of the weight dropped from Jumin’s chest. You tapped against the examination table – a heavy counter in the center of the room with a smooth, thick surface.

The room itself was decorated with pictures of animals surrounded by varying degrees of puns. The one the most caught Jumin’s eye was a photo of a cat, tail tucked just over its paws and a sweet expression beneath the words, ‘you’re purrfect.’

He wondered if you chose that one personally. He hoped so.

Jumin unzipped the carrier atop the counter for Elizabeth 3rd to poke out. She only hesitated for a moment before stepping out to greet your hand, fingers outstretched for her to curiously sniff. You beamed at the very sight of her, leaning down as she dipped her head against your hand, eager to be pet.

“Hello, Ms. Elizabeth! Aren’t you beautiful?” You scratched her cheek and her purring began, akin to a lawnmower. “She’s so sweet!”

Jumin watched as you examined her, flashing a light in her eyes and ears, squeezing her tummy for any masses, and flexing her legs for achy joints. Her temperature was normal, not even a rapid heart rate.

“Now I don’t want to stress her out on her first visit but I recommend we do an ultrasound,” You had remarked, rubbing her belly in one of the rare opportunities that a cat not only tolerated such an action but enjoyed it. Elizabeth 3rd was a rare creature indeed. “It’s just to make sure she doesn’t have anything bad developing in her kidneys.” 

“Do you expect there to be anything?” 

Elizabeth pawed playfully at your fingers, pulling them close to rub her cheeks against them when you relented. You had to draw your gaze back to Jumin to keep yourself from becoming distracted. It was rare to see Elizabeth 3rd warming up to someone so quickly. “Do I?” 

You paused, and then laughed. “Of course you’re asking me, I’m sorry! I don’t know what got into me – she’s just such a cutie! But ah – no I don’t. Elizabeth 3rd is as close to perfect as it gets. You weren’t kidding when you said how well she’s taken care of.” 

“She means the world to me.” Jumin hummed, Elizabeth tipping her head to see him and meowing. She almost appeared to smile when he scratched just beneath her chin. 

“May I ask how you found her?” 

Jumin hesitated, remembering the golden hair and slender hands that once held Elizabeth. It brought a pang. 

“She was a gift from someone dear.” 

You could see Jumin’s sadness so easily. You could only make your best effort to soften the hurt. “They must’ve known you two would be perfect for each other.” 

Jumin lifted his head to look up at you, and you smiled. It was gentle, and at that moment, brighter than the very sun. You wore your heart on your sleeve, and it was beautiful. He grinned, if only gently. “Thank you.” 

“Just being honest.” 

The ultrasound was an experience. Jumin thought you had to be lying or attempting a cruel joke when you brought the clippers. There was simply no way you truly could want to ruin Elizabeth’s coat! 

You had promised only the ‘teeny-tiniest’ area would be shaved, but you also promised it’d be cute. Jumin couldn’t completely disagree. 

You had him hold her still during the ordeal, his hands folded over her front legs and keeping her close as you carefully ran the clippers over her stomach. Elizabeth simply rubbed her head against Jumin’s suit. 

“See! Look at that little pink tummy!” You pointed to the now thin white hairs where just between the faintest hints of skin could be spotted. You encouraged Jumin to run his hand over and it was… oddly soft if admittedly strange. 

“There’s no way you don’t think that’s adorable.” You exclaimed. 

“It’s not not adorable. 

That made you laugh. 

The procedure itself was quick and easy. The probe found no problems within Elizabeth’s kidneys and the only issue that arose was Elizabeth 3rd squeaking in surprise at the cold gel spread over her stomach. 

“I’m sorry sweetie, I’ll get this chilly stuff off you quick, okay?” 

You made plenty of little comments like those to Elizabeth 3rd. While many others would hardly regard something as minuscule you took every effort to make Elizabeth 3rd comfortable. Jumin noticed each and every time. You were doting. 

Just as you said, you wiped her clean, only peppering her in pets all over her belly and sides as she could rollover. 

“She is the picture of health, Mr. Han. The only thing I’d recommend is we make these ultrasounds yearly to keep an eye on her – and so I can see her again.” 

Jumin chuckled. “I take it she’s swept you off your feet?” 

“Like she’s my prince charming.” You snickered. “I’m a sucker for pretty kitties.” 

“I’m glad someone else can appreciate Elizabeth 3rd for her perfection.” 

You nodded. “I also appreciate the owner that’s given her the chance to flourish so much.” 

There was a different type of pang in his chest and the tiniest bit of red flickered upon Jumin’s cheeks. Either you didn’t notice, or you didn’t say anything. 

But you smiled. 

“I ah – I might need to bring her in again sooner than her next yearly. I’ve been researching and read of other conditions in her breed that I’d like to look into.” 

You caught on quick. “Right, and we wouldn’t want to overwhelm Elizabeth 3rd with so much on her first visit! It might be best to stretch these concerns over multiple appointments just so we can do the best job possible for her.” 

“And you can teach me what to look out for and how to find them.” Jumin settled Elizabeth 3rd back in her carrier, pawing at you through the mesh, pink pads just barely peeking through. 

“Of course! And you are more than welcome to call! In fact…” 

You tore off a piece of paper from your notes, scribbling quickly before giving it to him. “Here is my personal phone number, for any questions you may have.” 

Jumin smirked and tucked it away in his pocket. “I expect I could find quite a few until our next appointment.” 

You clicked your pen, simpering. “I’ll be patiently waiting, Mr. Han.” 

“Jumin is fine.” He stretched out his hand, palm open. “In fact, allow me to properly introduce myself – we weren’t given the proper chance. I’m Jumin Han. It is a pleasure to meet you.” 

Warmth reached your cheeks, but you didn’t object, returning the gesture with a firm grip. “MC. The pleasure is all mine. I really do look forward to seeing you again, Jumin.” 

It was rare Jumin could say the same, but for once he did, he truly, truly did. 

“As do I.” 

#Jumin #Anonymous #Jumin Han #Jumin x MC #Jumin Han x MC #MC x Jumin #MC x Jumin Han #Jumin x You #Jumin Han x You #You x Jumin #You x Jumin Han #Jumin x Reader #Jumin Han x Reader #Mystic Messenger #MM #MC #mysmes #mysme #Mystic Messenger Fanfic #Mystic Messenger Fanfiction #Fanfic #Fanfiction #Jumin Fanfic #Jumin Han Fanfic #Jumin Fanfiction #Jumin Han Fanfiction

[bellatrixobsessed1]

From Chin To Yon Rah (Part 33)

The fog of sleep still clings to her. She isn’t sure for exactly how long but it must have been a while. Even in waking, she is so deeply exhausted. Tired to her very soul. Each and everyone of her limbs seems to pulse with a dull ache. A dull ache that is sharply contrasted by the lavish softness of an expensive mattress and a dozen plump and fluffed pillows. But her head hasn’t quite caught up with her body yet. The comforts are thwarted by momentary confusion. Still, only half-awake, her tummy begins to flutter. She is indoors, in a room. Someone has taken her. Her breathing quickens, but only for a moment--the moment before she remembers that she has made it to the palace.  

It is finally over. Her physical strife has finally come to a close. Her eyes flutter shut once more and she stretches her arms.

She isn’t aware that Zuzu and Sokka have remained at her bedside until she senses a hand hovering just over her throat. Her belly flops and she opens her eyes once more. She holds his stare. “Zuzu, is that you?” Her speech is slurred with sleep. When he doesn’t answer she says, “I’m thirsty, Zuko.”

This time she has been coherent enough to earn herself a, “tea or water?”

She doesn’t have any preference whatsoever, her throat is once again dry and she doesn’t intend to let it stay that way again. She sits up as Zuko leaves the room. Curtains of hair fall into her face. Sokka is quite lucky that she noticed him reaching out, her stomach flutters all the same as he moves the strands out of her line of sight.

“Don’t touch me.” She says quietly, almost numbly. He mutters an apology before making inquiries of her whereabouts. Questions that she is not ready to answer. Not when she has only just found sanctuary. Not with so much history between them. And yet he is treating her as though there is no bad blood at all. She repays this small mercy with a diplomatic, and vague, “it is probably easier to tell you where I haven’t been.”

“You’ve been in the Earth Kingdom!” He guesses. She confirms as much. His enthusiasm does little to alleviate the nervous tickles that still dance in her tummy. “A long while, I can tell.” He adds with just as much spunk.

“How?”

“Your accent.”

She furrows her brows, she hadn’t realized...hadn’t even considered that she would have picked one up, “I don’t have…”

“You do!” He insists.

And with the confirmation, her cheeks grow delicately pink. Moreso as the man continues rambling about his own travel experiences. Her head only grows dizzier--she has been gone for so, so long that it has morphed even her speech. She dreads to think of what others will think of her newfound dialect. “It’s a good thing!” He interrupts her thoughts. “I mean I like it.” She shifts, wishing that he would stop drawing attention to it and just let it go.

“Nevermind. How long have you been back home?”

“However long I’ve been asleep.” Her tone is level. She is too tired for biting remarks. She doesn’t think that she wants to make one even if she could. It isn’t as though he is trying to antagonize her. Most likely he is simply stumbling his way through an awkward reunion.

“I mean, when did you get back to the Fire Nation?”

She thinks for a moment. “A few weeks ago. I had enough coin to buy myself a trip from Chin Village to Yon Rha’s Village. I walked the rest of the way.” Frankly it could have been much longer than that. Or maybe it had been significantly shorter. And technically she hadn’t walked the entire rest of the way… But there is no sense in overcomplicating a story that she isn’t ready to share. “That explains why your shoes are so worn.”

She nods, wondering what he must think of her. What Zuzu had thought. Do they think that she is dirty and uncivilized? Do they think that she has no semblance of elegance left? She feels as though she is reverting. As though all of that time spent learning that there is no shame--rather there is a peculiar sense of dignity--in worn shoes and hardwork. But the palace...it makes her feel so...unclean. Unworthy.

“What were you doing in the Earth Kingdom?”

She shrugs. “I guess that I just wanted to find somewhere quiet to stay.” That is the basic gist of it. A diluted truth.

“Did you?”

She nods again. Her stomach is absolutely reeling. She thinks that if he keeps pushing the dam might break. “Did you like it there?” Another nod. And she craves it. Craves it so very much.

“Then why did you leave?”

She grits her teeth. She can tell that he means well; his curiosity is so innocent, perhaps a way of displaying that he is willing to put the past in the past. But she has to shut it down before it breaks her all over again. “You ask too many questions.”

“You answered them all.” He points out.

She doesn’t have a witty retort, neither can she deny it so she offers only a shrug and lays back down. The pillow is so heavenly, so inviting.

“Does it have to do with that?” He points to her neck. She hastily pulls the blanket up to cover it. “It does, doesn’t it?” And she rolls to face away from him. She is a question away from curling in on herself and covering her ears.

“Okay, fine. Different topic…” But he still bombards her with painful questions. Each pierces her like a dagger to the soul.

“Why do you care what happened to me?” She mumbles.

“I don’t know, I guess because it’s been so long and we thought that you...you know…”

“Died.” She could inform him that she almost did, several times over. Could tell him that she had yearned for it many times. She could tell him that she still does. But she realizes that, that isn’t true. She doesn’t want to die. Despite it all and despite his onslaught of questions, she thinks that she has found something to latch onto. His chatter makes her think that there is a chance. A chance to reconcile. A chance to face her past once and for all and make something of it. He rubs the back of his head, “yeah.”

“And that would be preferable, yes?” She tests.

“No!” He answers right away. “I think that it would have been kind of sad if you did.”

“It wouldn’t have been all the tear jerking.” She replies quietly. “I think that I have more waiting for me in the Spirit World than I do here.” She has said too much. Agni, she isn’t ready to get into this yet. She hopes that he won’t put two and two together. But she knows that he will, he always had been the brains of the Avatar’s group. And she given him a critical hint. He leaps upon it, “you lost someone, didn’t you?”

She doesn’t trust herself to answer without choking up. Agni, she wants someone to reassure her. She hasn’t had reassurance in ages...

“Sorry.”  His gaze lingers on her neck and she thinks to conceal the scar once more.

“Well, it’s good to have you back.”

“Is it?” She asks. She is happy to be back, relieved to be out of the merciless sun, relieved to have a comfortable place to sleep and meals waiting for her. But she isn’t sure that anyone else will benefit from her surprise homecoming. She had parted on horrid terms...

He seems to study her face. Seems to take in each detail. She thinks that he might be trying to find her story in her eyes so she closes them. She feels his hand on hers and when she opens her eyes she is greeted with a warm smile. “I think so.”

The fluttering in her belly becomes more pleasant. It is still jittery and skeptical but the tingles aren’t quite as unpleasant. He is offering her a second chance--or maybe it is more appropriate to call it a third. She does her best to return the smile before fatigue grips her once more. She lowers herself back to the pillow and nuzzles her face into it. At the very least, he has given her something to latch onto, a small hope to cling to just when her stash of it had been depleted.

That day she learns that even the worst of her deeds can be reconciled. That she isn’t a lost cause.

.oOo.

Sometimes she thinks about her first night back at the palace. Sometimes she wonders what would have happened if she had gotten snappy or aggressive. She wonders if Sokka would have been patient with her or if he would have written her off entirely. She thinks that her musing is pointless. It is pessimistic and she hasn’t the need for it. Not while she is laughing, face and clothing smudged with clay. Clumps of it cling to her locks. Not while the man is chuckling harder still as he tries to wipe some of the clay off of her cheeks.

As it would turn out, long nails are no good on a pottery wheel unless the goal is cleanly slicing cups and bowls in half before they have a chance to become something useful.

Sokka’s cups and bowls may be lopsided and asymmetric but at least he had managed to craft them at all. She has only managed to ribbon her own and has resigned herself to admitting defeat.

“I’ll heat those up for you.” She mutters as she snatches up those hideous ceramic structures.

“Once they’re done we can use them for dinner.” Sokka grins.

“I’d rather starve.” She deadpans.

He slings an arm over her shoulder and barks out a laugh. She quite likes his laugh as unrefined and obnoxiously loud as it is. She frowns and plucks a few particularly large chunks of clay out of his beard. “You need a bath.” He blinks and gestures towards the clay dirtying her entire persona. “I never implied that I didn’t need one.” She shrugs.

“Alright, we’ll just let someone else heat up the clay and finish it and we can take baths.”

.oOo.

When he had suggested that they take baths he hadn’t expected her to suggest just one bath. One bath, wherein she is massaging shampoo into his hair with a look of steely determination. “Your hair is a tangled mess.” She comments every now and again. “When was the last time you combed all of this?”

He shrugs, “I just let it do it’s thing.”

She sighs, “that’s how you get dirty hair.” With a good yank, she manages to get one of the more serious knots untangled. She adds more shampoo and conditioner to her palm. Mostly her fingers are gentle and he enjoys the sensation of them in his locks. He finds himself disappointed when her hands retract. “There, I think that that’s most of them. I’ll have the servants do the more laborious grooming.”

She holds out the small bottle of perfume, “do mine.”

He studies her for a moment; the water has mostly washed away the smears of clay but some of it still holds onto strands of her hair. Hair that clings to her neck, shoulders, and collarbone--it hasn’t yet grown past that. Her skin is still very sunkissed and her scars stand out more starkly for it, particularly the ones upon her throat.

Their occasional sparring matches have done her well, muscle definition is beginning to take the place of malnourishment. It is reassuring to see her in a more solid state of health.

She clears her throat and gestures towards the shampoo. His face flushes and she turns around. It is his cue to put the shampoo to use. He takes a curtain of hair in one hand and pours an overly generous amount of shampoo upon it with the other. He runs his fingers through her hair until her locks are impeccably silky and the water comes back clear.

“Thank you, Sokka.”

“Any time.” He reaches for the bar of soap, “do you want me to…?

She takes the soap from his hand and shakes her head.

.oOo.

Azula holds the soap to her chest, cleaning herself, only for a moment, with thoughtless sweeps of her hand. Her shoulders have a decent layer of foam by the time she hesitates. She casts a look at Sokka and quirks a brow.

“We only have one bar of soap.” Quickly he adds, “don’t worry, I can wait.”

She brings the bar away from her body anyhow and runs it along the man’s well sculpted arms, her fingers over the lines of his biceps. She glides the soap across his chest, wondering just when the man had gotten so strongly built. She supposes that the soap is just an excuse to run her hands over his abs. He reaches out and strokes her hair again. Satisfied for the moment, she hands him the bar of soap and turns around again. She moves her hair and lets the man lather the back of her neck down the curve of her spine. Her rinses the bubbles away and offers her back a trail of kisses. She closes her eyes and feels his lips on the crook of her neck and her arms around her torso.

“I think that you’re mostly clean now.”

She nods, “yes, mostly.” Though she isn’t particularly interested in the bath anymore. “You can…” she takes his hand that holds the soap and holds it against her chest. “You can finish up.”

“Yeah, I think I can do that for you.” He smiles.

She must say that this is the mostly lovely, relaxing bath she has had in ages. He is good to her.  Good to her in a way that is uniquely his and with a touch that is uniquely his. A touch that leads her to decide that it is safe to remember but move on.

#Avatar The Last Airbender #Azula #Sokka #Sokkla #Fanfiction

[aloysiavirgata]

In The Gale

Title: In The Gale

Author: Aloysia Virgata

Rating: PG

Category: MSR

Author's Notes: For @perplexistan, who asked and helped me make it better. This is shortly after settling into the Unremarkable House. I tried making sense of their legal status, but it’s simply impossible and I gave up.

Our heroes quote from Melville, Shakespeare, Sagan, Baudrillard, and (Emily) Dickens.

***

Because I know that time is always time And place is always and only place And what is actual is actual only for one time And only for one place I rejoice that things are as they are and I renounce the blessed face And renounce the voice Because I cannot hope to turn again Consequently I rejoice, having to construct something Upon which to rejoice

And pray to God to have mercy upon us And pray that I may forget These matters that with myself I too much discuss Too much explain Because I do not hope to turn again Let these words answer For what is done, not to be done again May the judgement not be too heavy upon us

Because these wings are no longer wings to fly But merely vans to beat the air The air which is now thoroughly small and dry Smaller and dryer than the will Teach us to care and not to care Teach us to sit still.

T.S. Eliot, Ash Wednesday

***

She recites The Raven to herself on the drive in, lists all the state capitals in alphabetical order, and goes through the periodic table. Her body fizzes like a shaken soda, tiny anxious bubbles rising through her blood. They’ve done so much for this, called in so many favors. Mulder put his book on hold for a month, quizzing her with dog-eared notecards. 

“Immediate treatment of myocardial infarction,” he’d call, and she’d say “MONA TASS.”

She feels a pang for the simplicity of the other life, the hiding one, where she just had to ring up cigarettes and herbal Viagra at gas stations.

***

She’s the new girl at the cafeteria table, awkward and alone. Mulder had prepared her a lunch like it’s the first day of school, and she stares at it, wishing for an appetite.

From the corner of her eye she sees two colleagues - an MRI tech and an obstetrician, she thinks - talking softly and glancing over. Scully thinks she hears “FBI,” and she looks up and smiles, uncertain.

They blink at her, look away.

***

Ybarra comes around the corner, gliding in his cassock like a disapproving ghost. “Dr. Scully,” he says, in his pinched voice.

She smiles thinly. “Father Ybarra.”

“Nurse Mossing was looking for the chart for Mrs. Sullivan. Imagine my surprise when I found it in Room 314 instead of Room 413. That’s a potential HIPAA violation, Dr. Scully. That’s a federal law.”

Scully curls her hand so that her nails dig into her skin. “I’m so sorry,” she says. “Father Ybarra, please forg-”

He holds up his palm. “It won’t happen again,” he says, and glides onward.

Scully closes her eyes and leans against the wall. She breathes through her nose until the ringing in her ears stops.

***

She wants to collapse into his arms and cry when she gets home, but that would be giving in. It would be letting them down.

“How’d it go?” he asks. He’s wearing basketball shorts and a Knicks shirt, a five o’clock shadow.

She smiles brightly. “It was good. Learning curve, but good. I think Father Ybarra might be a tough nut to crack, is all.”

Mulder rubs his cowlicked hair. “Put your feet up, Scully, since you won’t wear sensible shoes.”

She does, and accepts the glass of wine he holds out. “Thanks. I’ll sleep well tonight, anyway. There are miles of hallways.”

He sits next to her on the couch. “I wrote a few pages,” he says. “I deleted a bunch, but I think there was a multi-paragraph net gain.”

“I’m glad you’re able to stop focusing on my stuff now,” she says. “Both back in the saddle.”

“Go team.”

She clinks her glass against his. She drinks her wine too fast.

***

Ybarra had come in during her rounds that morning and startled her into knocking a metal bedpan onto the floor. Scully thinks the reverberations of that sound will follow her to the grave.

She’s now in the chapel, tucked into a back pew. She’s been staring at the small altar, at the stained glass windows flanking the crucifix. The Blessed Virgin smiles beatifically down at her, a wretched sinner.

Scully laces her fingers on the back of the pew in front of her and bows her head against them. “Please,” she whispers. “Please.”

***

Mulder wakes her with tea and eggs. “You haven’t been eating,” he says, brow furrowed. 

She rubs her eyes, yawning. “What?”

He sits next to her on the bed, sets the plate and mug on her night table. “You just push your food around your plate, you hardly talk when you get home. What’s going on, Scully?”

She sits up, looking at his worried face. He’s sun-browned and tousled, beautiful, with a mouth that still makes her weak in the knees. “Nothing. It’s just a lot to jump back into.”

“I’m sure it is. And I still want to help you with it.” He pulls the flash cards from his pocket, touches her wrist with his other hand. “Let’s see - causes of upper zone pulmonary fibrosis?”

She looks at the ceiling, back at him. “I don’t need help.”

Mulder blinks, stung. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. You just don’t need to hover over me. You have your own things to work on. Work on your book, patch up your henhouse. ” Her voice sounds snappish to her own ears.

His changeable eyes, now mossy green, darken. He chews his bottom lip, nodding slowly. “I thought you were one of my ‘things.’ Sorry to bother you.” He rises, walks downstairs.

“Mulder,” she whispers.

The tea goes down fine. Scully tries to eat the eggs but feels bile rise in her throat. She flushes them down the toilet instead of leaving them behind, because that is love.

***

She arrives at the nurses’ station on the second floor with three dozen donuts and two cardboard boxes of coffee. She deposits them on the desk. “Good morning, Annabel,” she says.

“Anneliese,” the woman says.

Scully nods, walks away.

*** 

He slides his hand up her pajama top, tracing circles on her ribs, sliding his fingers around to her breasts. He kisses the back of her neck. “Scully,” he whispers, his breath warm and ticklish in her ear.

She wants to pretend to wake up, to turn towards him and lose herself in his body. She wants to tell him everything, to be held and loved and petted and reassured. She wants him to remind her that she once stared down Congress, that some backwater priest and his prickly staff should be a joke to her. She wants them to laugh together at these silly, petty people.

But she can’t, she can’t disappoint him. He’s been so proud of her.

Scully stays still, breathes evenly until his hands move away and she’s alone again.

***

Her car rattles over the driveway, through shimmering waves of heat that rise from the crisping grass. It is the kind of late July afternoon where the sun is a hazy white ball in the west, and clouds of gnats are a permanent feature of the landscape. 

Scully parks, avoiding a puddle in which a peacock is standing. Mulder has recently become enamored of yard fowl. She narrows her eyes at it while opening the car door. 

“Good boy, Kevin,” she calls to it, wary.

Scully picks her way over the gravel in her thin heels. The peacock mews an alarm as she approaches, but doesn’t charge. She lets herself inside, shuts the heat and sun and wildlife outside. The house smells of coffee and microwave popcorn.

She walks into Mulder’s office and finds him hunched at his desk, typing. “Hey,” she says, and drops a kiss on his head. There’s a sketch of Baphomet taped to his monitor, her worn flash cards atop a tome about Raëlism.

He turns in his chair. He puts his arms around her hips. “Hey.” 

“Kevin behaved himself,” she offers.

“You two will be friends yet, you’ll see.”

She peers at the computer. “You get a lot done today?”

Mulder shrugs. “Eh, a bit. Waiting on a few emails, and I had to run that tubing to drain the sump down into the woods. Ate up most of the afternoon.”

Scully shakes her head in admiration. “I don’t know how you manage all the multitasking.”

“Well, the book helps me avoid the house, and the house helps me avoid the book. It’s a perfect system. That Ybarra guy still riding your ass?”

She chews her lip. “No,” she lies. “I think we’re okay now.”

“Good,” he says. “I’d hate to have to beat up a priest.”

***

Scully gazes at herself in the empty locker room. She looks thin and tired, and her hair is frizzing up, even pulled back like this. All her makeup has sweated off except for smudged crescents of mascara. Her bra is the color of a Band-Aid, her underwear white and sensible. Between the two is the hard white rose of her gunshot scar, like a second navel, an artifact of a second birth. It is numb when she touches it, indifferent. There are no stretch marks from William, a tale missing from the anthology of her skin. She unhooks her bra, lets it slide down to the damp floor. Scully turns to observe her body in profile. The scar is gone this way, the tattoo hidden as well, and she smooths her hands along her ribs. Her breasts seem out of place to her when they are unbound, frivolous somehow. Vestigial. 

She looks away.

***

The hospital is labyrinthine, having been constructed of various additions when funds allowed. There are dead ends, pointless staircases, and a mysterious storage closet filled with old televisions. She makes little maps on notepaper. 

“So where did you work before this?” an orthopedic surgeon asks her.

A diner in Wyoming. 

“I was out West for a while,” she says.

***

A week in, and Mulder has made a cake to celebrate. A bouquet of Kevin’s shed tail feathers ornaments the table.

An offering, Mulder calls it, tickling her chin with one.

A week down, she thinks, and blows out the candle. She wonders when she’ll stop counting the time.

***

Shy, he gives her a chapter to read. It’s good, and she tells him so. It’s very good. She hears his voice in her head when she reads it, his passion. She loves the esoterica tucked into his gyri and sulci.

“Your prose was never this clear in your reports,” she remarks. 

“Hey if you can’t blind them with brilliance, baffle them with bullshit.”

Scully laughs. “You want to read a few medical reports?”

He looks at her, suddenly serious. “Yeah,” he says. “I would. It would be nice to hear about your day for once.”

She wonders if love is the weapon that lets them wound so casually.

***

“You’re late,” Ybarra says softly. 

She doesn’t explain that she’d somehow ended up at the TV closet again, that the room numbering system in this hospital had been designed by nihilists, that the nursing student had Dermabonded her glove to a patient’s forehead.

She lowers her eyes like she did at Catholic school. She promises to do better.

***

“What’s going on?” Mulder asks her for what feels like the hundredth time. “Talk to me, Scully.”

She presses her hands to her face for a moment, drops them to her sides. “Nothing,” she says again, frustrating them both. “I’m tired. It’s a hard schedule.”

He places a throw pillow on his lap and pats it. “Come here,” he says. “Please.”

She acquiesces, curling on her side with her back to him. He runs his fingers through her hair, traces the Fibonacci spirals of her ear. She wants to relax, to melt into his touch. She indulges in a Mulderesque conspiracy theory that the hospital microdoses the water with tetanus toxin to keep everyone rigid and tense.

Scully gazes at the windows, at the hard white light of summer streaming in. The curtains are blue with an arabesque pattern, and they looked very chic in the store. She wonders now if they seem desperate in this odd little house. She thinks of Meg March, dressed up in borrowed finery at the Moffats’ ball.

***

Scully clomps up the steps to the porch and kicks her rain boots off next to the umbrella stand. It contains four umbrellas and a gnarled hickory limb that Mulder claims is going to be polished into a fine walking stick one of these days. She goes into the house and is dismayed to find it stale and stifling and dark. Dust motes waft in Brownian motion through shafts of sunlight, undirected by fans or air conditioning. 

“Mulder,” she calls, and there is silence.

She twists her hair into a bun as she pads upstairs, old wood satiny under her bare feet. She pushes open the bedroom door, and the air is hot and still. 

“Mulder?” She needs his help with her zipper, but there is no reply.

She wrestles herself out of her silk sheath, sticky and irritating, and lets it puddle on the floor. Her bra follows. She feels guilty, as Mulder has turned out to be a surprisingly diligent housekeeper. His office is filled with perilous stacks of home improvement books and arcane journals about lake monsters, the walls papered with clippings and blurry photographs, but he seems able to quarantine his own entropy.

She is trying to do the same.

Scully pulls on soft cotton pajama shorts, a gray tank top imbued with the compressive powers of Lycra. She uses lotion to rub away the mascara beneath her eyes. She goes downstairs and out the back door, shielding her eyes against the piercing sunlight. A mosquito whines at her ear and she pinches it out of the air.

“Still got those reflexes, kid,” Mulder says from somewhere off to her left. 

She turns and sees him crouched next to the hulking green block of the transformer. “All the lights are off, and the house feels like a rainforest. I take it you’ve had an eventful day?”

He sighs. “Not really. Well, not the event I was hoping for, which is the power coming back on. There was a pretty heavy thunderstorm around one and that’s when the electricity blew.”

She sits on the bottom step, knees drawn up. She likes to watch him working, a side of him they’re both still learning about. There was never much call for home maintenance at Hegal Place, or living out of cash-only motels. “You call the power company?”

He huffs. “Yeah, they told me they had no reported outages and the power should be fine. I explained that I was trying to report an outage and that it definitely was not fine and she promised someone would be here between tomorrow and eventually.”

Scully smiles. “And that’s why you’re out here toying with death?”

“Not much else to do, really. Can’t write with the power out.” Mulder sits back on his heels and shrugs. “You, uh, have a good day?”

She hadn’t. “Yep. Starting to feel like part of the team.”

“Good. You need to get your career standards as high as your standards for men,” he says, getting to his feet.

“Oh, well, that’s an obviously unattainable bar.”

“Obviously.” He sits next to her on the step. “You wear that to work? You know I think bras are a tool of the patriarchy and you shouldn’t bother, but I’m just surprised Our Lady of Perpetual Shame takes such a liberal view.”

She laughs a little. “I figured as long as I tossed a lab coat over it, I’d look like a real doctor. It worked when I was a kid.”

“Hey, that’s what I did with my badge half the time. Listen, Scully. The house is pretty tropical. You want to bunk up in a hotel until they get the power sorted out?”

Scully thinks about the convenience it would afford. Maids and room service and maybe a pool, depending. But she is tired of hotels, even nice ones. She is tired of polite signs that remind her that the pillows and towels and hairdryers aren’t hers, the tiny toiletries an indicator of her temporary status. She is tired of living out of suitcases and dressers that made her clothes smell strange, tired of running from her own life.  She wants to be home.

“Nah,” she says. “We’ll manage.”

Mulder looks surprised, but doesn’t question it. “I’ll call Lowe’s about getting a generator delivered tomorrow. We ought to have one anyway out here.”

She’d always had a vague idea that Mulder had money - it was the only explanation for his complete disinterest in it. But when they’d come back, when they’d talked to his lawyers, she'd been staggered. The Vineyard house alone explained his casual international jaunts. They can have things now, endless things, and there is something frantic in her that wants to spend the money. Bingeing chocolate bunnies after Lent.

Mulder peels his shirt off, wadding it into a limp ball. He tosses it so that it hooks over the doorknob. “Still got it,” he says. He preens.

“Does the NBA realize the tremendous talent they’re missing out on?” she asks. “Do they even know that, at this very moment, a six foot tall middle aged white man is out here flinging his clothing a distance of several feet?”

He snuggles up to her, wrapping his sweaty arms around her shoulders. 

“Ugh,” she says, and pushes at him. “Mulder, you’re disgusting and it’s a thousand degrees out here.”  

“Hoping that cold, cold heart of yours might cool me off.” She sniffs disdainfully, and he releases her. “Scully, how do you feel about bees?”

“We have a history, bees and I,” she observes, tapping the back of her neck.

Mulder curls his hand over the scar, kneads the muscles there. “Well, these wouldn’t be fancy bees.”

“Hmmm,” she says. “I’m not inherently opposed. Why do you want bees, Mulder?”

He shrugs. “I’m getting older, and I’ve got to consider funeral plans. The last one didn’t really go as expected, so I thought maybe I’d mellify myself this time.”

She nods. “Makes sense. I mean, of course, there’s no actual proof that mellification actually occurred, but that’s never stopped you.”

“I also like honey,” he adds. “And bees are good for the planet.”

“Honey often contains botulism spores,” she remarks. “Botulinum toxin is the most lethal toxin known, and it’s estimated that as little as 40 grams of it would be enough to kill everyone on earth.” She doesn’t say you shouldn’t give it to babies, that she sweetened her smoothies with dates and maple syrup so that -

“Well, nobody better piss off my bee army and me,” he says darkly. 

“Everybody eventually pisses you off. Mulder, is that old tent in the shed still? We could sleep in that tonight.”

He shakes his head. “Heavy mildew and dry rot, so I threw it out. We could sleep out here if you want, though. We’ve got that big air mattress.”

“Let’s do that,” she says. “We can put it on the porch. Tell you what - you get stuff together, and I’ll even make dinner.” Scully doesn’t like cooking, but she wants to create order, to complete a finite task. She can be domesticated again, like a lost house cat finally returned to a hearth.

“We having eggs or peanut butter?” he asks, smirky.

“I’d hate to spoil the surprise,” she snips, and goes back into their sauna of a house. 

In the kitchen, she stands in front of the open fridge, letting the delicious leftover cold soak into her skin. She’ll deal with the spoiled food later. Eggs had, actually, been her plan but it’s just too hot. The stove doesn’t work, and she doesn’t have the fortitude to turn the grill on. She finds some leftover shrimp pasta that Mulder has made, some vegetables, and assembles it all into a passable salad.

There, she thinks, pleased. I’d pay twelve bucks for that somewhere. She uses her foot to scratch a mosquito bite on her calf.

Her skin is clammy, hair stringy and damp from sweat. Maybe they should just go to a hotel after all. Perhaps she should stop ascribing symbolism to every damn thing and enjoy herself once in a while. But she thinks of packing, of driving, of unpacking and somehow it’s all too much and her eyes start to fill and her sinuses sting.

Scully pinches her wrist until it passes, feeling weak and hating the weakness in herself. It’s the heat, it’s the exhaustion, it’s the heavy mental load. She considers going outside for a dip in the pond, but suspects the water will be unpleasantly warm. Instead, she drags herself back upstairs for a cold shower.

She sits on the edge of the bed, weary, and stares at a framed picture of a sea turtle on the far wall. If she lets her eyes drift out of focus, it looks like it’s swimming. She tips her head back for a better angle, watches it float across her vision. It slips away then, into the black of the deep waters.

***

She startles awake when he touches her shoulder, gasps.

“Jesus,” Mulder says, and sits next to her. “Bad dream?”

Scully sits up, dazed. “What? No, was I asleep?”

“You’ve been out cold for over an hour, but I wanted to make sure you got some food. Water at least, it’s too hot up here.”

She blinks, confused. “I don’t remember,” she says. Peering to her right reveals night outside.

Mulder holds a hand out and she grasps it, letting him pull her to her feet. She wavers and he steadies her, arm about her shoulders. 

“I just need some water,” she says, defensive.

He guides her down the stairs and out the front door onto the porch. The air outside is substantially cooler, a light breeze kissing her face. She settles into a chair, stares deep into the felty dark. She still can’t remember falling asleep. 

Mulder hands her a water bottle from the little table and she rolls it between her palms, the plastic crinkling. “Hey, I thought you were setting up the air mattress out here,” she says.

“No air flow behind the wall,” he replies. “Drink that up like a good girl and I’ll show you what we’ve got.”

Scully obeys and feels better. The water tastes stale, but it’s cool and wet. “Maybe you should have my job,” she says, looking up. “Caring for live people is so much work.”

“Everybody eventually pisses me off,” he reminds her. “Come on, Doc.”

She follows him down the steps and around the side of the house. Their property is vast and feral, pocked with mole burrows and rabbit nests. The floodlights are out with the power, and the house is nearly swallowed up by the vast night. Scully glances up at the Milky Way, at the waxing moon, and marvels again at the sky they have out here. We are star stuff, she thinks.

“Moonstruck?” Mulder asks.

“The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars.”

“As long as you can tell a hawk from a handsaw,” he says, and tugs her along.

She follows him to the back of the house and then stops, smiling. Mulder has hammered some old two-by-fours into a frame, draped the structure in white bedsheets. Inside, the air mattress is piled with sofa pillows. Outside, camping lanterns, candles, and two strands of solar lights make it into a kind of fairy circle.

“Mulder,” she says, delighted. “This is ridiculous.”

“Indian Guide saves the day,” he says.

“Your architecture badge is definitely more impressive than your fire badge,” she says, walking over to the little tent. He’s brought her salad inside, and there is a cooler packed with ice and water bottles. Cans of bug spray sit at the flap. She crawls inside, suddenly ravenous. 

Mulder joins her on the mattress, which bounces in response. “Remember my water bed?”

She laughs, piling food on a plate for each of them. “What a swinging bachelor you were.”

She remembers the water bed fondly, the leather couch and the fish and the postage-stamp bathroom in his apartment. It shouldn’t hurt still, but it does. She knew herself there, her place on the map. She eats her salad, wistful for Chinese food and beer at that battered coffee table.

“Scully,” he says.

“What?”

“Scully.”

“Just middle-aged nostalgia, I suppose,” she murmurs.

He reaches out to take her hand. “You’re scarcely middle aged.”

She smiles, squeezes his fingers. “If you go by life experience, we’re both about two hundred years old.”

“Like those Galapagos tortoises. But you need to tell me what’s going on at work. You won’t disappoint me.”

It can be very disagreeable to live with a profiler.

Scully drops his hand. She bites at the fleshy part of her thumb. This is real, she thinks. This place. It is not down in any map; true places never are. She can only deflect for so long, and her armor is rusting away. “I’m afraid,” she whispers, then chances a look at his face.

His eyes are soft, searching. “Why?”

She shakes her head. “I don’t know, I don’t…” Her sinuses sting again and she presses her palms hard into her eyes. “Please.”

Mulder’s hand on her back, in endless, gentle figure eights. He pulls the elastic from her hair and lets it tumble down to her shoulders. He shifts so that her back is to him, his long legs on either side of her body.

“Mulder, what -”

“Shhhh,” he says, and gathers the hair at the crown of her head. “It’s not a real sleepover if you don’t get your hair French braided.”

Scully blinks. “Since when do you know how to braid hair?”

“Little sister, absent parents. Now stop moving and talk.”

She keeps her head very steady, thinking of her own sister’s deft fingers when their mother was too busy for anything but ponytails. Mulder tugs at another little section of hair. Scully thinks she might be okay if she isn’t looking at him, if she can’t read herself in his eyes.

Moth shadows dance across the white sheet wall, drawn to the flickering candles outside. It fascinates her that they never figure out that fire burns.  “I don’t know how to do this,” she says, and her voice is thick.

“To talk, or to be still?” he says in his Oxford psychologist voice.

She isn’t sure of what she means either. “Yes,” she says, with a hiccupy laugh. “Both.”

“Me too,” he says, slipping his thumb through the strands behind her ear. “I don’t know how to do this.”

She swallows hard. “I just...I’ve always had something to consume me. I had the FBI, we traveled all the time, and then we were running and I thought it was hard but it was so easy to just survive. There were no decisions. I didn’t care about, I don’t know...plates.”

He pauses in his work. “Plates?”

Scully chews at a hangnail, frustrated. “Just things, the things you buy for a house. Long term things. I did with William and then…” she trails off, her chest tight. “I feel like I’m playing a game sometimes, like improv theater. Fox and Dana Build A Home.”

“Fox and Dana?” he repeats. “Surely not.”

“Well, we’re hardly Mulder and Scully anymore, are we?” Her stomach clenches and that’s it, she sees. That’s the fear.

He finishes the braid and fastens the elastic at the end of it. “Of course we are,” he says. “We are who we are.”

She turns to him then, the whispering anxiety back with a roar. “And who is that, Mulder? I was plain old Dana Scully until I met you. And we had this life, this strange and wonderful and terrible life where I was Scully because I was your partner and now that’s over. It’s all nothing.” She’s crying openly now, quietly, and it feels cleansing.

“You’re still my partner,” he says, and his eyes are shining too.

She wipes her nose with a paper napkin. “Am I? At what? I go to work and see patients but I forgot there’s no closure with the living. People get sick and get better and get sick again. It doesn’t end. And this house, the power is always going to go out and the chickens will always be hungry and -“  she stops, feeling hysterical.

“You don’t have to work,” he says softly. “The settlement from the FBI, my inheritance…”

She shakes her head. “You know I have to work.” 

He sighs, rubs her knee. “I know you do. But it doesn’t have to be this. It doesn’t have to drain you.”

He’s right, of course he’s right, but he’s also so terribly wrong that she wonders if he knows her at all. She has to be a doctor for her father, for William. For him. She has to see something through. Scully smooths her hand over the back of her head, feeling the even ridges of the braid. Mulder is so competent with everything he does, so easy with himself. He’ll get his damned bees and become some kind of honey magnate in no time.

“People at the hospital, they ask me what I did before. And I don’t know how to answer. How can I possibly answer that question? I just say I was with the government, but that isn’t really the answer, is it?”

Mulder shrugs. He’s never felt the need to explain himself to people. “It’s true.”

Scully stretches out on her stomach across the mattress, chin on the pillows, watching the moths again. They tumble like acrobats, untethered in the thick air. “There’s this number called Graham’s number, used in Ramsey Theory, which is, well, nevermind. It doesn’t matter. Anyway, it was in the Guinness Book for being the largest specific number used in a proof at the time. And Mulder, this number is so big that writing out all the digits would exceed the bounds of the known universe.”

“Nobody likes a math nerd, Scully.”

She rolls onto her back to glare at him. “Yes they do, they give them Nobel prizes. Anyway. A whole new notation system, Knuth Notation, had to be developed to express these massive numbers. Graham’s Number, Tree(3), et cetera. And I feel like that at times. That there’s this endless amount of vital, inexpressible information inside of me that is so essential but that I have no way to share.”

She blinks a few times, spent by this unburdening.

Mulder stretches out next to her, propped on his side. “You can express it to me,” he says, massaging her temple with his thumb.

Scully closes her eyes. “I feel like a ghost sometimes. How do you do it, Mulder? How do you just keep moving forward without getting lost?”

He sighs. “I don’t know how to tell you this, but you have a tendency to compile people into perfect specimens, then measure yourself against that imaginary standard. It’s the precession of simulacra.”

She looks at him, indignant, then realizes he could be right. “Well,” she says. “It’s possible. But Mulder, is that such a bad thing, to want to hold myself to the highest goals?”

He tugs her onto her side so that she’s facing him, nearly nose to nose. Her lips feel tingly. “Yes,” he says, stroking her hair. “When the goal isn’t attainable. And when it puts everyone else on pedestals where we’re ill equipped to balance. And when it puts you in a constant state of frustration and anxiety. No one is perfect. Not even you.”

“I don’t want to be perfect,” she lies. “And I don’t need you to be either.” That part is true, at least.

He laughs in reply. “Apropos of being Galapagos tortoises, Charles Darwin once said ‘I am very poorly today, and very stupid and hate everybody and everything.’”

“He rode the tortoises,” Scully says, calming. “I can’t defend his methodology.”

“See? You’re better than Charles Darwin.” He kisses her forehead.

“Well,” she says. “Well.”

“Scully, look. You’re not alone here, feeling at sea. I went to the feed store and some guy picked a fight, shoved me pretty hard with his shoulder. And this reflexive part of my brain wanted to grab my badge, stick it in his face, and put him against the wall for assaulting a federal agent. But I ignored it and bought the chicken feed and just headed out. And I felt like, is this who I am now? Some pushover with yard birds and home improvement books?”

“You made a little fast and loose with your authority sometimes,” she says, thinking of Roche. She curves her palm against his cheek, thumbs the fine ridge of his zygomatic bone.

He bumps her nose with his. “You broke into a secret morgue.”

“You made me.” She sniffles, laughs a little. “The good old days.”

“These can be the good days too,” he says. “They can, if we work at it.” He traces her mouth with his finger.

“Okay,” she says. Hope stirs in her, a thing with feathers. “Partners?”

“Partners.”

He kisses her, in their small tent, in their ring of light.

#xfiles fanfic #xf fanfic #my fic #iwtb

[one-piece-dumpster-fire]

A comforting Killer Oneshot~

A/N: This is my part of a little trade I had with my ultra-cool friend @supernova-hcs-art (check her out pls, she’s amazing)! I really hope that you enjoy it, this certainly was interesting and a lot of fun to write :D! Killer is seriously underappreciated imo

Words: ~4000

Warnings: none

'A day off' sounds like a simple concept to most people; after all it serves as a well earned reward for those who spend most of their time working hard to make a living, and gives them the opportunity to finally spend some tender moments by themselves or with their loved ones. That sounds like a nice thought, am I right? ...However, the term 'day off' holds a completely different meaning to the Kid Pirates- after all, they are pirates, wanted criminals- and you can't just take a day off from being a menace to the public now, can you? But despite the fact that they certainly take great joy in decimating whoever crosses their path and just generally enjoy ruining everything they come by; whenever the Victoria Punk pulls in or docks at a port already known to be frequented by criminals, wrecking havoc is for once not the top priority of the Kid Pirates. After days or even weeks at sea the whole crew was longing for some sort of outside entertainment which, suprisingly, didn't have anything to do with pestering the weak. And as you might have guessed, today was one of those days.

There was an uncommon atmosphere of tranquility aboard the great pirate ship, and for once not a single soul was yelling around or picking a useless fight with a fellow crewmate- in fact, not only the upper deck but the entire ship was looking completely abandoned, almost as if there was no one there....but that wasn't entirely true. Given, you would have to wander deep into the actual interior of the Victoria Punk until a sound would actually reach your ears- which would be the sound of something sizzling in a frying pan at the other side of the kitchen door, to be specific.

And there he was, Captain Kid's closest friend and basically second-in-command- Killer. The masked man was looming over the pan sitting on top of the stove, his body unmoving like a statue- except for when he was flipping the frying meat every now and then. Other than that it was completely quiet, even along the hallway leading to the cabines of the other crewmembers there wasn’t a single noise to be heard. However... there was still another person left on board aside from ‘the Massacre Soldier’.

Earlier that day, Eustass Kid left the ship with the remnants of the crew so Killer could spend some time with the sole female member of the pirate group- a newcomer, whom he had been close to for quite a long time but only recently convinced to actually join the crew. That person was you, (Y/N), a completely new addition to the steadily rising number of criminals roaming the sea. But right now there was nothing dangerous or criminal on your mind- in fact, you were simply trying on different dresses and outfits inside of your and Killer's shared cabin while humming a small tune to distract from the uncanny silence of the ship. Tonight would be special, since you and your boyfriend basically had the whole place to themselves, and Killer was quick to suggest a date night consisting of dinner and stargazing in the Crow's nest. Well, of course there was also the option of him taking you out, but since everyone else was gone the tall pirate couldn't help but look forward to spending some time with you and you alone. And knowing that his best friend would be more than enough to keep the ship safe and that his buddy was probably longing for some 'sappy romance' time with you alreaey, Kid almost instantly allowed Killer to stay behind while he went on ahead and took the rest of the crew out and into the town to finally seek some entertainment.

However, right now the smell of something burning immediately pulled the masked pirate out of his train of thoughts and back into reality, and with a quick movement he lifted the pan off of the stove to start preparing the plates for tonight’s dinner. There wasn't much to work with in the kitchen, since most of the pirates’ diet consisted of alcohol and the food they stole scavenged from their trips to different islands. And because no one really took it upon themselves to keep an eye on the pantry, a majority of said food had gone bad already, and would later be discarded into the sea like almost everytime they reached a new port. But whether it was just luck or thanks to his keen eye, Killer actually managed to salvage a few pieces of somewhat fresh looking meat alongside with his private stash of pre-cooked spaghetti noodles, and so he was able to pull a somewhat decent dinner together which consisted of- well, spaghettis and meat with a somewhat spicy vegetable sauce. The tall man now pulled out two plates which he had previously scrubbed clean (since tidiness was another foreign term on this ship) and started to add some final touches, eager to finish with all the preparations before you would be done with getting dressed. However, since he didn't want to serve you any uncooked meat, he had to take some extra time with getting everything ready, so upon hearing you knock at the kitchen door Killer let out a small sigh. As to be expected, you had beaten him to it.

A few large steps later his hand wrapped itself around the door knob, ready to see what clothes you had chosen to wear for your little ‘date’. His gaze wandered back to the finished plates once more to make sure that he didn't forget anything, before he opened the door with a loud squeak.

Even when surrounded by the people he cared about and trusted, Killer would always keep his mask on his face or within reach, and moments like these once again reminded him of just how crucial that was- the sight of your beautiful curves hugged perfectly by the smooth (d/c) dress you choose to wear, your hair styled exactly how he adored it the most, and that gentle smile grazing your beautiful lips... his face turned as red as a tomato within mere seconds.

„Ahem, all done? I was just about to finish up myself, so you can go up to the crow's nest already if you want.“ he cleared his throat and made sure to keep his voice steady while his eyes were still glued to your gorgeous form.

But the smile on your lips only seemed to widen as you walked straight past him with a small giggle and gleefully eyed the plates your boyfriend previously put on the table.

„Mh, I could do that, but the smell of something delicious kiiiiind of demanded for me to come and check on you,“ you admitted and lifted your gaze from the food to look over at the masked man still standing at the door, „...and the food don't smell too bad either.“ you added with a playful wink which caused the corners of Killer's mouth to twitch upwards under his mask.

„Come now, don't be ridiculous.“ he replied sternly and in an attempt to make it seem as if he was brushing off your teasing, but as he walked over to join you by your side a large hand immediately reached out and started to rub your shoulder affectionately.

„But if you want to help I won't stop you. The plates are rather hot so I will take care of them- but look, the silverware is right over there.“ Your smile slowly turned into a playful pout, disappointed that he didn't seem to play along with your teasing, but regardless of that you walked over to the counter and picked up the forks and spoons with a dramatic sigh. As soon as both of you were more or less loaded with what you needed for the dinner, Killer let his eyes roam around the kitchen once more to make sure that he didn't miss anything and then gave the signal to head up to the Crow's nest. 

The way back to the deck was rather quiet, neither one of you felt any desire to disrupt the unusual silence with needless conversation, especially since there were things to hold and concentrate on. But regardless, there was a definite feeling of excitement rushing through your veins as you couldn't wait to finally spend a calm and quiet night just with your boyfriend- no drunken crewmates singing offensive shanties, no Captain Kid pulling Killer away for an arm-wrestling competition, and no one going for a swim because they tried to flirt you up while being drunk, which of course lead to Killer throwing them overboard.

No, tonight it was only the sound of the waves sweeping against the ship and the crying of the seagulls that were still circling the port. By now the two of you had finally managed to climb up into your destinated spot, (which was not a simple task for Killer who carried two piping hot plates with food, if I may add) and with delight you realized that he had actually prepared everything already- a bunch of pillows were lying all over the little space you had, most likely in order to make it more comfortable and cozy to sit, and a small table was placed in the middle for you two to eat on.

„Oh Killer, it really looks lovely!“ you exclaimed in a dreamy voice as your feet carried you over to the two biggest pillows, which were undoubtly arranged as the main seating opportunity. The masked man behind you simply smiled with pride as he put the plates down onto the table and headed over to the biggest pillow, where he quickly sat down with a loud 'thud!'. His hands immediately reached behind his head as he turned away from you and carefully craned his neck to the side, so the mechanism that kept his mask in place was now exposed.

„Would you, please?“ he asked in a calm tone, although the question was rather pointless since you were already on it and fumbling around with the mask, which opened and landed in his lap a few moments later. A proud smile grazed your lips as you clapped your hands together in excitement and allowed yourself to sink back into the pillow, right next to your boyfriend.

„There! Now, do I finally get to look at that handsome face?“ you inquired with a small giggle, and Killer playfully ran a hand through his hair to brush some strands out of his face before turning around to look at you.

His gaze roamed over your body again, now to take in all the little details that he previously missed or couldn't make out from behind his mask, a hungry glimmer reflected in his eyes. And just like him your (e/c) orbs were glued to his face, more specifically to those beautiful eyes sparkling especially bright thanks the light of the moon, and that gentle smile that could melt you right there on the spot. A happy sigh escaped your lips as moments which felt like hours passed by, the two of you only focussing on taking each other's form in as if this would be the last time you'd see each other in years.

„Like what you see, (Y/N)?“ the tall man then whispered in a playful tone as he held himself back from releasing a small chuckle and handed you your plate, a wide smile now plastered on your face.

„Well I oughta get a good look until you turn unrecognizable once more,“ you giggled and pointed down at his own plate, indirectly joking about how much of a messy eater he tended to be. And indeed, the first times that you and him dined together, Killer's face did get so messy from the food that you almost thought there was a stranger sitting next to you.

But the pirate simply brushed it off as the corner of his mouth twitched upwards and instead focussed on the spaghetti before it would get cold.

A simple nod of your head was enough to signal that you were thinking the same, and so Killer quickly handed you a spoon and fork before literally... digging into the dish.

Now having dinner with him was always something special, and since he wasn't wearing his mask you could actually observe how his face would lit up as he enjoyed the taste of the food he had prepared earlier. A smile grazed your lips as you occasionally reached for a napkin to clean some sauce off of his cheek, all while cuddling up to your boyfriend in order to feel his warmth. Although the spaghetti was already doing a great job of heating you up from the inside.

„So.... I heard Kid once again broke the arm-wrestling table Wire brought from the last port? How many times did this happen now?“ you asked with a playfully raised eyebrow, the plate with your remaining food now sitting in your lap as you felt the desire to talk with your boyfriend for a bit. Killer almost choked on his pasta at the mention of what went down the night prior- it was definitely not an evening he was keen on recalling (especially since someone spilled alcohol all over his new shirt at some point), but the memory of his captain angrily smashing his fist down on his favorite table, breaking it in the process, still brought a smirk to his face.

„Well, if I recall it correctly, then Kid actually made a comment about that just before leaving with the rest of the crew... something about 'taking a new table from the nearest bar' they would be visiting,“ he grinned and shook his head before picking up his fork again, but you suddenly got an idea which almost made you chuckle out loud.

„Hehe, then I hope he takes that table before getting drunk again, or else he might mess up and accidentally carry home a donkey instead!“ you laughed and playfully slapped your boyfriend's knee, the idea that Kid might be so wasted that he wouldn't be able to tell the difference between a donkey and a table sounded absolutely hilarious in your mind.

For a quick moment, silence returned to the ship once more as you waited for your partner’s reaction- mentally you were already anticipating a light chuckle or his usual playful smirk, but then a high-pitched sound suddenly tore through the air and almost startled you as you looked up at Killer with suprise.

„Faaaffaffaffaffaffa!“ said man was covering his eyes with a hand, his mouth wide open as the unusual sound of his laughter reached your eyes.

Now, seeing your boyfriend smile was one thing, but him laughing was actually still pretty foreign to you even until this very day, so to say that you were caught off-guard was quite the underestimation. Both your mouth as well as eyes were opened wide as you stared at Killer, who's laughter now began to die down just as quick as it had started. Almost as if he realized that he just made a terrible mistake, the blonde man lowered his head as his smile faded into a frown and his hand was still pressed against the upper part of his face, thus completely shielding his eyes from your view.

You could basically feel how Killer's mood immediately decreased, a look of shame and discomfort now on his handsome features as he averted his gaze even more by turning his head to the side. His hand slowly wandered down to now press itself against his mouth, seemingly to keep any further noise from escaping.

Silence returned once more, but this time it was because neither of you seemed to know how to respond to what had just happened, and you were still in awe of actually hearing your boyfriend's laugh for the first time. Of course you knew about how much he detested the sound of his own laughter, it was something he had already told you early on into the relationship, but you never really understood what could make him hate his own voice so much. And even now, you still didn't understand. Was this... was this what he was so embarrassed of? Well admittedly, it was quite an unusual laugh, but it definitely didn't sound like something to be ashamed of! In fact, now that you finally heard it for yourself, you realized that this could very well be a sound you could grow used to...

Killer however took your silence and the thoughtful expression on your face as an indirect sign of rejection, and although he was relieved that you didn't laugh, he still felt incredibly ashamed and vulnerable because of what just happened, so he decided to do what would be for the best in his eyes.

„It's okay,“ he cleared his throat and tore his glance from your face to look to the side again, before silently picking up his plate and slowly standing up, „I can... I’ll leave, if you want it.“

His voice was nothing but a hoarse whisper as he lifted his head and prepared to climb back down, but suddenly the feeling of your hand gripping his arm caused him to stop right in his tracks. Confused, and still mildly uncomfortable, Killer turned around as if he was expecting you to make a joke or some sort of comment, but instead you simply turned your head to the side and blinked up at him with slight confusion.

„Don't go! It's just... you know... I never heard you laugh before.“ you exclaimed in your usual warm and calm tone, without any trace of malice or mockery hidden underneath, which caused Killer to slightly relax from his tense state.

„As you can tell, there is a reason for that...“ he simply muttered and lowered his gaze again, which caused you to slightly loosen your grip as you furrowed your eyebrows in irritation.

„Actually... no, I can't.“ you bluntly admitted and kept on looking him in the eyes so he wouldn't continue to avert his gaze. Your sudden bluntness caught Killer off-guard for a moment as he frowned down on you as if you were kidding, but judging by your intense glare it was clear that you wouldn't let him walk off like this. At least not without a talk, so just as quick as he got up he sat back down again, his arms now crossed infront of his chest. It was clear that he didn't want this sudden 'outburst' to ruin your datenight, but deep within him there were the same insecurities that plagued him for years rising up again, mainly concerning his laugh and how others would respond to it.

„(Y/N)... I don't mean to overreact, but I'm sure you are aware that this is... a difficult topic for me...“ Killer simply sighed and ran a hand through his messy hair while his eyes were fixated on a point far away in the starry sky. Of course you knew that this wasn't easy for him, after all he did tell you about how much he always hated his own laugh and how people who dared to make fun of it would pay a devastating price for that, but now that you finally knew what it sounded liked... you were oddly relieved, to be honest.

„Yeah, I know, but Killer- you may see it as a flaw, but to me... I never heard you laugh before. Do you know how happy it makes me to finally know about this?“ his gaze slowly wandered over to your face, and although the frown on his lips was still as hard and unmoving as before, he was kind of curious now to hear what you had to say.

„...I'm... It always felt like there was something missing...“ you continued and carefully put a hand on top of his knee, „I've seen you smile, heard you cry... this is actually something I've been wondering and worrying about for a long time.“ your voice slowly began to fade out and blend in with the sound of the crashing waves as you wondered how this sudden confession would make him feel. Would he be mad? Sad? Would he leave? Part of you was almost expecting him to get up and walk away without saying another word, but instead the tall man carefully put a large hand of his own on top of yours.

„Well, if I’m being honest- I was... kind of wondering and especially worrying too. About how you might react,“ Killer admitted and closed his eyes for a moment as the painful memories of how many times he was teased for his laugh boiled up again, but he did his best to suppress those negative emotions and thoughts for your sake, „and I... misjudged you. After a while you just get used to people laughing at you, so you start assuming everyone might react the same. But you, (Y/N)-“ his head turned your way, his eyes now glued to your form as he raised an arm and gently stroke over your cheek, „-are different. I probably should have figured that much.“ he muttered and awkwardly cleared his throat before lowering his gaze as a small red hue formed on his cheeks.

It's true that talking about this had been something he was dreading, but the fact that you're willing to support him and look past this detested flaw of his once again reminded Killer just why you meant so much to him- similar to Kid, you were there and able to accept him for who he was, flaws and weird laugh included.

A large smile spread on your face as you affectionately rubbed your cheek against his hand, happy that you managed to get him in a somewhat better mood again. This topic might never be an easy one for him, but you were more than glad to have finally talked about it.

„Mhh, and know what? As a matter of fact, there are a few embarrassing secrets of my own that you don't know yet either!“ you chuckled and playfully nudged his side while reaching behind you with your free hand. Killer's ears quickly perked up at that as he felt himself relax more and more, the usual smirk now plastered on his face- he was happy to change the topic to something a bit lighter-themed.

„Oh? Is that so?“ the blonde man asked and raised an eyebrow while mustering your face up close, but your smile only widened as you suddenly pulled out a small bottle of what he presumed to be wine. Of course. There wasn't a single place on this ship that wasn't equipped with alcohol.

„Hehe, I coooould tell you- if I'm drunk enough!“ you sang loudly and shook the bottle around in front of him as a tease, to which Killer replied with grabbing the item and getting ready to uncork it, his smirk softening a bit as he wrapped an arm around you and pulled you closer while continuing to inspect the beverage.

„Well, you got my full attention- I suppose it can't be helped then...“

...and getting drunk with you on this starry night sounded just about perfect to him right now.

#trade #one piece #one piece killer #op scenario #one piece scenario #i am such a hoe for fluff it's not even funny

[marvel-lous-things]

Frost Giants and Frozen Things

Words: <3k

Pairing: nothing romantic. Irondad. Accidental and unwilling Loki + Peter friendship. Thor being an annoying older brother. Pepperony and Thruce mention, because I am trash and couldn’t help myself.

Description: Loki doesn't want to watch a stupid movie made for midgardian children. Peter thinks he should. Especially because the movie in question involves ice, siblings and a happy ending. And some kick ass songs, damn what the critics say.

A/N: Welp. As promised. A 12:00 am idea brought to life. Hope ya’ll like :D

I spent three hours on this sksjksjs

#############################

When you get to be about 1500 years old, there isn't really much you can say you haven't done.

Take Loki, for instance.

If one were to ask the right people, one would receive (in frightening detail) about 3 million different anecdotes of Loki doing things that nobody in their right mind would ever do. Ever. Never ever. Even if they were paid for it.

But Loki had done these things, and oftentimes, for free.

A certain endeavour with a horse comes to mind. And one with offending the dwarfs. And dressing Thor up as a bride to get his hammer back. And- well, you get the idea.

And yet, while it would be easier to list the things he hasn't done than things he has, watching a Disney movie (surprisingly) landed on the former list...

...A goddamn travesty that one plucky kid from Queens intended to fix as soon as possible.

Which is why Loki found a very excited Peter Parker stuck to the outside of his bedroom window, one fine Sunday afternoon. And drew the curtains immediately over his face, much to the teenager's chagrin.

Peter, however, was not one to give up easily. And so began the insistent knocking on the window. And the subsequent yelling.

"MR LOKI SIR?"

Damn it.

"I WAS WONDERING IF YOU'D WANT TO WATCH A MOVIE WITH ME."

Ignore him, Loki told himself, ignore him and he'll go aw-

"I KNOW YOU'RE STILL THERE."

Damn it. He wasn't going to go away upon being ignored. Loki tried another approach.

"Leave, Parker, before I tell Stark about your algebra test."

"My what?"

"Your algebra test."

"I got 99% on it? And I told him already?"

Oh.

"Your chemistry test?"

"96%"

"Physics?"

"100%"

"Geometry?"

"92%"

"Trigonometry?"

"97%"

And that was the end of the list of all the subjects Tony cared about. Peter could've failed in the others and Tony would laugh and buy him ice cream to cheer him up. Tony had gotten into trouble with May, once, when he let Peter stay over time as a reward for getting 69% on his German test. So Loki threatening Peter about his other scores was pointless.

God damn it. Why was this kid so smart.

"I'm not interested. Go. Away."

Peter didn't go away.

"I THINK YOU'LL REALLY LIKE THIS ONE, SIR. IT'S A STORY OF TREACHERY, LOVE, AND SECOND CHANCES."

That caught Loki's attention, for a few seconds anyway. "Treachery, you say?"

Treachery was always fun.

"YEAH. ALSO THE MAIN CHARACTER IS REALLY COOL. I MEAN LITERALLY. SHE HAS ICE POWERS. AND SHE-"

The curtains opened suddenly, startling Peter enough for him to nearly lose footing and fall. Loki was disappointed that he didn't.

"Ice powers?"

"YEAH!" Peter was getting more and more shrill by the second. "SHE'S BASICALLY FORCED TO HIDE THEM ALL HER LIFE UNTIL ONE DAY THEY JUST COME OUT AGAINST HER WILL AND-"

That piqued the trickster God's attention. "Was she, by any chance, adopted?"

"WELL IT ISN'T MENTIONED EXPLICITLY BUT I THINK SHE WAS ‘CAUSE-"

"You don't have to yell."

"-Because her parents and her sister have brown hair but she's blonde! Also she's the only one in the family who can do magic! Mr Stark says I'm reading too much into a movie for kids. But I think there's a lot of subtext in there."

Loki raised a well groomed eyebrow, staring at Peter in careful deliberation. The plot of the movie being described to him hit closer to home than he would like to admit. Was it possible that it was, somehow, based off of him?

Of course, It was highly unlikely that humans would celebrate the life of someone who tried to enslave them by creating a motion picture in his honour.

But then again, humans were stupid.

He didn't realise he'd been staring too long (and too intensely) until he heard Peter clear his throat nervously.

"I really think you'd enjoy it. But if you don't want to-"

"No." Loki said definitively.

He watched as Peter's face fell, triggering the slightest hint of guilt in him. But he wasn't going to waste a few hours watching something that he doubted he would even like, when he could spend it on practicing his skills with a knife instead. It had been a while since he'd stabbed Thor. Loki didn't want to lose touch.

He closed the curtains once more, and began to walk away. Peter, however, gave one last, valiant effort towards his cause.

"The songs are great too, you know"

What the hell?

The kid was as stubborn as his father (Tony insisted he was simply Peter’s mentor, but he'd seen the way Tony looked at the kid).

"You're still here?"

Peter marched on, unperturbed. "They're deep. I especially like this one song about letting go of your past?" He cocked his head to the side, trying to peer through the small slit in between the two pieces of fabric shielding the room from his vision.

"It's about how she lived in fear and anger but finally managed to leave it all behind her. I thought you would appreciate that, Mr Loki."

Loki would, actually. He had been, after all, shunned by almost everyone for being different during his childhood. For not being the strong, valiant prince everyone expected him to be. Because he’d found comfort in magic and books, rather than in swords and armour, unlike his beefy blonde counterpart. 

But a watching a kid's movie? With this little twerp, no less?

Thor would ensure that Loki would never hear the end of it. But then again, when was the last time Loki let Thor's opinion stop him from doing anything at all?

"All right," Loki sighed, pretending to act defeated rather than interested, "I'll watch it if you'll get off my back."

"AWESOME!"

"I suppose so. Now go home."

Silence followed. Until Peter spoke again.

"Actually, I was hoping you would let me in?"

Loki groaned. "What now?"

"I'm sorry sir, I just left my homework in Mr Stark's workshop. Three days ago. And it was due yesterday. May will kill me if I don't submit it tomorrow, so if I could just go get it-"

"Then perish."

"Okay, that was absolutely perfect, and I wish I'd caught that on camera but I've really gotta-"

The window suddenly opened inwards, causing Peter to land facedown on the floor with a soft "ow". Loki hid the smirk that momentarily flitted across his face, and watched in amusement as the kid stammered over an apology and quite literally ran towards the workshop.

He hoped for Peter's sake that the movie would be good.

#############################

Monday, 6:00 pm.

After giving Peter’s words some careful thought, Loki actually found himself looking forward to watching the movie, unwilling as he was to admit it. And besides, even if he did admit it for some godforsaken reason, no one would actually believe him. Loki “I would rather spend time with a horse than you” Odinson, spending time with anyone, let alone Peter Parker, was unheard of.

Elsewhere, Tony was having trouble believing this exact thing.

“It’s okay, Pete,” Tony sighed, the sound very obviously exaggerated, “I understand if you don’t want to spend time with me. Just don’t lie about the reason.” 

Tony, however, sounded so unbearably dejected that Peter nearly burst into tears then and there. Tony had just been trying to get a rise out of Peter. Unfortunately, he’d been a little too successful.

“BUT MR STARK I LOVE SPENDING TIME WITH YOU, I SWEAR I JUST-“

“okay.”

“ HE’S NEVER WATCHED A DISNEY MOVIE BEFORE SO I THOUGHT-“

“uh-huh?”

“HE WAS MISSING OUT ON SO MUCH, I JUST-“

“Relax, I’m just messing with you. Go on your date with MJ or Ned or whoever the lucky kid is. I promise I won’t tell May,” He winked.

“I’M NOT HIDING A DATE! LOKI REALLY WANTED TO WATCH-“

“If it’s all the same to you,” came a very annoyed voice from the doorway of the workshop, “shall we commence our movie session? Or may I retreat to my chambers?”

Loki stood there, arms crossed and leaning against the wall, glaring at the red-faced teenager and the rather surprised man standing next to him.  He watched as Peter slowly turned to tony, triumph written all over his boyish face. Loki rolled his eyes.

“I mean, if you’d rather continue yelling at your father, I could just-“

“He isn’t my son-“

“Yeah, yeah. Save it.” He turned to Peter. “well?”

Peter nodded hastily, immediately running up the stairs, towards the living room.

Tony just stared after him in confusion. He still wasn’t sure what exactly he should be believing. On one hand, Loki himself seemed to be admitting that he was going to watch a Disney movie with Peter, but on the other hand,

Loki? Disney movie? What?

The only time those words could possibly go together was if Loki stabbed someone with a shard of the lion king DVD tony had lying around somewhere. Or something to that effect.

His internal war, however, was cut short by Loki turning on his heel. “I suppose I’ll be borrowing him for about two hours” he said, with an (attempted) air of mild contempt. Just before he disappeared up the stairs, however, Tony caught the unmistakable hint of a smile playing on the god’s lips.

Which, of course, just left the genius more confused than ever.

#############################

Loki did have to admit that the premise was more interesting than he’d expected. 

The humour was childish at best, but considering the fact that Peter seemed to very nearly choke on his popcorn every time they made a sad attempt at a joke, he decided to hold his scathing remarks back.

For now.

But apart from that, the plot was far too familiar for comfort. He had been reliably informed that the movie was not, in fact, about him (which nearly made him change his mind about watching it). And yet, here he was, the beginnings of tears building up in his eyes. The last time he’d felt such emotion was while watching a play based off his own supposed death. Thor hadn’t really appreciated it, though.

He let his mind wander a little, reminiscing on the plays he and Thor had watched as a child, recreating them in the comfort of their own home when they were left alone, with nothing to do. when they grew up, however, Loki started spending lesser and lesser time with his brother. he wondered if Thor felt the same way the younger sister in the movie- Anna, was it?- did. Hoping in vain for his brother to come out and talk to him.

He turned his attention back to the unnecessarily large TV screen when it showed the younger princess- Anna, he reminded himself again- agree to marry a man she’d just met.

“Well then,” Loki shook his head disapprovingly, “she and Thor would get along, wouldn’t they?.”

Peter knew that Loki was probably referring to Thor and Jane’s whirlwind romance, but he didn’t say anything. Heimdall could be watching. And while Bruce and Thor seemed to be very happy together, he wouldn’t take kindly to Peter dissing his former paramour. And the last thing Peter wanted was to get Thor mad.

The odd pair sat in silence, Loki giving each and every word uttered on screen a lot more thought than anyone would have deemed necessary. He hung on to every scene, every second of music, all of it gluing him to his seat. Peter excused himself to go to the bathroom at one point. Loki simply scoffed at the inefficiency of human bladders, and didn’t bother to budge until Peter came back from his short break with a refill of popcorn.

And then came the song Peter had no doubt been waiting for. Loki could tell Peter loved it because he began singing along, albeit agonisingly off-key. Loki rolled his eyes in second hand embarrassment, but again. Didn’t say anything. He liked to think that his mother would have been proud. Childish as that sounded.

Eventually, Loki began humming along too. Except less off-key, of course. He couldn’t help it. Replace a few words of the song with his own, and it could very well have been about him. Also, it was catchier than he would like to admit.

Just then, Loki heard the sound of approaching footsteps, stopping somewhere in the room. Loki frowned a little. The only reason anyone would stop would be to either talk to him or Peter, both of which annoyed him. He didn’t want pointless conversations interrupting his entertainment. If he wanted that, he would’ve just watched the movie with Thor.

“Having fun?” came a feminine voice from behind the sofa.

Loki didn’t bother to turn around. Whoever it was could wait.

He only recognised the voice as Pepper’s when he saw her ring-adorned hand affectionately ruffle Peter’s hair.

“Yes, miss Potts.” Peter smiled, not turning around either. He seemed to somewhat agree with Loki about interruptions, but was too polite to ignore Pepper.

“May dropped off some cupcakes for you, but I accidentally left them in Mr Stark’s workshop, so I would hurry if I were you.”

Pepper sighed, thanking him as she left the room, her footsteps echoing crisply on the marble floor.

Only then did Loki turn away from the screen, his eyes landing on Peter. He marveled at how the kid seemed to be comfortable with everyone around him. Of all the people who came by the tower- Steve, Bucky, The bird guys, Black widow, hell, even the pizza delivery guys- all seemed to enjoy being around Peter. Loki noted, with some jealousy, that Thor enjoyed the kid’s company more than his own. He would never tell Thor that, though.

In all honesty, Peter seemed to have simply walked out of a Disney movie himself.

Loki felt a keen twinge of regret that he’d become estranged from his family until it was too late to rectify it. He pushed the thoughts away, however, choosing to not deal with them at the moment (or any moment, for that matter). He had a plot to follow.

And that he did, just as closely as ever, until the treachery Peter had mentioned occurred.

And when it did? For the first time in years, Loki, calm, eloquent Loki, stood up and screamed at the top of his voice.

“WHAT THE FUCK?”

Peter was startled, although he completely understood Loki's reaction.

“Mr Loki please sit dow-“

“WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?

“I know, I hate Hans too, but please si-“

“HE SAID “IF ONLY THERE WAS SOMEONE OUT THERE WHO LOVED YOU”? THAT’S THE WORST FUCKING PLOT TWIST I’VE EVER SEEN.”

“I agree, but-“

“DOES HE DIE IN THE END? DOES HE FUCKING DIE IN THE END?”

Peter didn’t reply. He wasn’t about to spoil it, oh no. He didn’t put all that effort into getting the arrogant god to sit down and watch this with him only to spoil the ending. And no doubt have him leave before watching the whole thing.

“You’ll find out” Peter smiled innocently.

Which, of course, only made Loki want to choke the answer out of him.

He quelled his urges, however, and sat down, heaving a sigh of relief when the character with the unfortunate sideburns (Loki refused to address the bastard by name) did in fact die, and all was set right. 

Loki got the happy ending he was promised.

He also got tissues for Peter, because the kid wouldn’t stop bawling his eyes out, no matter how many times Loki threatened to strangle him until he stopped. Sure, the ending left Loki’s eyes a little misty as well, but this?

Loki awkwardly left him there on the sofa, hoping someone would else would find and deal with the sobbing mess of a teenager instead.

He had other things to do. Like look up more movies to watch.

#############################

 “So, brother, I heard you spent some time with Stark’s son?” Thor said, amusement (and chocolate syrup) plastered across his face.

“He isn’t my s- why do I even bother?” Tony sighed, tossing Thor a washcloth to wipe the sticky mess off his majestic beard. Someone really ought to teach him to not drink the syrup from the bottle.

“That, Stark, I do not know.” He grinned, turning his attention back to his irritated brother.

“Well?”

“Well what?”

Thor rolled his eyes. Loki could be so difficult sometimes. 

“The movie, dear brother! Did you like it? I know I did!”

“He pestered you into watching it too?”

“Pester me? Of course not! I’d seen posters of it the last time I’d come to earth, so I asked him about it, and we decided to watch it together.” Thor shrugged, like it was obvious. He omitted the part where Peter nearly tackled him to the ground in a hug.

“Peter told me you liked it. And I think you would have too, considering…” he gestured vaguely towards Loki's…entire body.

Loki frowned, “Considering what?”

Thor fidgeted with his mug of hot chocolate. “Don’t be daft, brother. You know what I’m talking about”

“No, really, I don’t”

Thor was getting more uncomfortable by the second. Loki reveled in it.

“No, I just- I thought you’d relate to her- her struggles, and- The ice-“ Thor stammered, before Loki put up an impatient hand.

“I was joking. And yes, the movie was…tolerable” Loki lied through his teeth. He’d absolutely loved it, but the day Thor finds that out is the day Loki stabs him in the face. Again.

“Just tolerable?” Thor yelled, incredulous. “That movie is the best damn thing I’ve watched in years! Way better than your stupid little overly dramatic plays! I knew you were haughty, brother, but to this extent-”

His voice got even louder, prompting Tony to awkwardly scurry out of the kitchen, 50th coffee cup in hand.

“If you don’t take your words back right now, Loki, I SWEAR TO VALHALLA-“

Loki cringed. “Okay! Fine! I liked it! There, you happy?”

Thor beamed, taking a big swig of his hot chocolate. “Absolutely.”

“Good,” Loki smirked in response,

“Now let it go”

  #############################

Somewhere in the vents, an excited squeak came from the boy who’d heard the obvious Frozen reference.

He pulled out a crumpled list titled “People who haven’t watched frozen” and a badly chewed pen from his pocket, crossing out Loki's name with a smile on his face.

Up next, Anthony Edward Stark.

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A/N part 2: HELLO!! THANKS FOR READING IT THROUGH!!! YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH IT MEANS TO ME!

tag list: @roanoaks @thefandomforme @shattered-shadows @queenofalotofdifferentworlds @advocateofathena @satans-poptarts @uselesspileofstressandsadness @melodielgrace @victoritris @marvelficwriter

“Hello You’re My Friends And If You Could Validate Me That Would Be Great Thanks” tag list: @spoopy-marvel-bean @marvel-or-not-to-marvel @gumgamug @cosmic-disasters @spiderboiii @windexnoises @animewhispersdreamland @anxieteaandbiscuits @persepumpkin @my-babies-are-ash @dexpoolb @anoptimisticdevil @asaelia

#aaah this came out less trashy than i expected #marvel #mcu #marvel fanfiction #fanfiction #peter parker #loki #thor #thor ragnarok #irondad #tony stark #pepper potts #spiderman #spiderman homecoming #infinity war #avengers 4 #marvel headcanons #dad tony

[gentlemanmendes]

Beauty Behind the Madness: 13

a/n: If you would like to be added/ removed from the permanent tag list let me know.

b>

Previous Chapters can be found in my masterlist under beauty behind the madness

13:

It would probably be considered stalking to be seated out in the car park waiting for Arleigh and Mitch but my intentions are good. They both had a free period and decided to work on their project at the library downtown. I don’t trust Mitch alone with Arleigh and considering their history I have every right not to. I will simply keep my distance and observe and only if something goes wrong will I interfere. Although Mr Axle has a restraining order against me I think he would understand I approached his daughter to protect her, even he’s not that crazy. I even drove my car to school today just so I could follow the pair but as I watch them walk out of the building, Arleigh leading the way to the exit I realize that I was stupid.

“My car is this way.” Mitch told her but she ignored him, keeping to her pace she continued walking towards the entrance.

“There is no way in hell I’m getting in your car.” Arleigh shot back causing me to break a slight smile. She is still the same stubborn Arleigh who hates Mitch with a burning passion. That is something I am proud of at least. I don’t know why, I guess I’m just glad that somethings about her are still the same. That I didn’t ruin everything about her.

Like the last time I followed Arleigh to the library, I kept my distance and my head down but I didn’t wear my earphones hoping I would catch any conversation that they shared but the whole trip, from what I could tell, was completely silent. Mitch and Arleigh walked side by side with Mitch slouching and his hands shoved lazily into his pockets while Arleigh held her posture straight even with the pile of text books she was holding close to her chest. I can’t help but feel slightly disappointed at how uneventful the walk to the library was. In all honestly I had expected Mitch to do something childish like push the books out of Arleigh’s hand or trip her over for his amusement but nothing happened, they just walked in silence the whole trip. I suppose that is a good thing for Arleigh but a bad thing for me.

As soon as they arrive at the library they take a seat out one of the tables behind the countless rows of bookshelves and I’m glad that Arleigh hasn’t taken Mitch into one of the study rooms, if she did I would have totally flipped out. After putting her stuff down Arleigh walked away to go get a coffee leaving Mitch alone to slouch in one of the chairs looking board out of his mind. Why is Arleigh even forcing him to work on this assignment with her, I would have thought that she would rather do it all by herself.

When Arleigh returns she pulls out her laptop and begins flicking through textbooks. She pushes her laptop in front of Mitch and tells him to start typing as she flicked through one of her books. To be honest I don’t even know what this assignment is about considering I haven’t even thought of mine let alone started it, Miranda is coming over tonight which now that I think of it I’m not looking forward to it at all.

My frustration begins to grow as I realize that maybe me following them was pointless. Mitch has to do something, he is Mitch after all, why is he sitting there and lazily typing away what Arleigh is telling him to? It doesn’t make sense! Does he know I followed him, is that why he isn’t doing anything? He couldn’t possible know, Neither of them had noticed me the whole time, I was sure of it.

“Shawn what are you doing?” A familiar voice asks from behind me causing me to jump in surprise. In confusion I turn around to see Layla and don’t understand why she was in the library when I knew for a fact her advanced math class was on right now.

“What are you doing here?” I scoffed back trying to mask my surprise but I’m positive I was doing a bad job considering that I wanted nothing more than to turn my attention back to Mitch and Arleigh, what if I missed something major because of Layla.

“I followed you.” She shrugged innocently causing a sense of rage to flood through me. Who the hell was she to violate my privacy. Sure she may be my ‘girlfriend’ but that doesn’t give her the right to become my stalker.

I had been so busy following Arleigh and Mitch to notice anyone was following me. Stupidity had gotten the best of me. I was so focused on watching Mitch and Arleigh with prying eyes that I forgot to make sure that no one had noticed me making my way out of the school grounds.

“Why? What is wrong with you?” I shouted my anger getting the best of me. She was ruining everything by being here. She needed to leave right now before she made everything ten times worse then she already had.

“Me?” She quizzed clearly baffled causing me to roll my eyes. “what is wrong with you? Last time I checked Arleigh has a restraining order against you, you shouldn’t be getting close to her or following her for that matter, why don’t I just call the cops.”

“How do you know she has a restraining order against me?”

“I looked over your file.” She admitted. So much for confidentiality Jenny. How long ago did she read it? Was it recent? Did she read what I had said to Jenny last time I saw her? However I cant bring myself to answer her.

My jaw clinched and fists tightened by my sides. She did not just threaten me. Who the fuck does she think she is threatening me like that? Layla sent a disapproving look over my shoulder at Arleigh and Mitch before letting out a heavy sigh and stepping towards me sympathy falling over her features as she looks up at me. Gently she takes my hands into hers causing me to frown deeply, does she think I’m some sick puppy who needs her help and sympathy.

“You don’t need her.” She whispers causing me to mentally roll my eyes. Layla doesn’t know anything, she is Como,tell clueless about what happened between Arleigh and I. the only thing she is aware of is that Arleigh and I never had sex, thanks to Mitch practically everyone in school knows it. “Stop chasing someone who isn’t even worth your time.” At this I really do roll my eyes. She’s treating me like I’m the victim when I’m not, I’m the murderer standing over Arleigh’s bloody body with the weapon held tightly in my grip. It’s a black and white case but I don’t bother correcting Layla, the people I care about most already know the truth, I suppose no one else’s opinion matters anymore.

She steps forward again, her hands now placed on my chest causing me to stumble back slightly hoping that her hands would come off but they don’t, they stay exactly where they are glued to my chest as she continues to look up at me. Slowly she comes up on her tiptoes and pecks me on the lips before mumbling, 'didn’t you say your parents weren’t going to be home tonight?’

Hesitantly I send a look back at Arleigh just to make sure that she wasn’t watching the way she always seemed to be when Layla was around. Thankfully she seems too troubled at the thought of having to work with Mitch to be paying any attention to me.

Pushing past Layla I make my way out of the library and towards her car. She has only ever been to my house once or twice but somehow knew exactly where to go.

Leaning my head against the cold glass of the window I close my eyes for a moment and focus on my breathing. Something about Layla always showing up when Arleigh is around pisses me off. Anyone else would be okay but when she shows up while I’m around Arlegh it’s like a reminder of who I used to be and who I have turned into which only makes me feel worse.

*

“So I was thinking maybe this weekend we could drive into the city?” I suggest once I have finally backed out of the school carpark meaning that we were finally free for the next two day until we had to come back again.

It is only an hour or maybe two drive to the city, depending on traffic and Arleigh hates shopping online so I figured it would be a nice  to make the drive and spend the day there.

“I can’t, I have plans.” She mutters back causing me to frown to myself. Arleigh never spends her free time with anyone but me, it has been that way since the day I met her. And on the rare occasion that Arleigh isn’t with me she is either binge watching Netflix or drawing it just doesn’t make sense. All of a sudden she has plans?

“Since when?” I chuckle not bothering to hide my humor causing Arleigh to frown to herself.

“With my dad, I have a life you know.” She states not bothering to hide the offense she has taken from my little jokes.

“Relax I was joking!” I attempt to apologies before the conversation escalated. “So what are you and your dad doing while I I’ll be spending my weekend board at home with nothing to do.” I exaggerate in hopes of lifting her spirits but she I am met with a response of silence.

I sneak a look over at Arleigh to find her leaning her head against the window, her eyes scrunched up closed, and a few tears rolling down her cheeks.

A lump forms in my throat at the sight of Arleigh looking so distressed. She was never one to let things affect her enough to bring her down, even though I’ve seen her cry before it still always comes as a shock and I have no idea how to help her.

“What’s wrong?” I attempt again hoping that this time she will tell me because we are now alone in my car and not in the over  crowded halls of the school.

“Nothing.” She huffs wiping her tears away quickly and sitting up straight causing me to roll my eyes.

“Obviously that’s a lie.” I retort keeping my eyes on the road and not looking up to see Arleigh’s reaction although I desperately want to. “If you don’t want to tell me then just say so, I don’t have time for beating around the bush.” I add no bothering to hide my irritation.

“I meant 'Nothing’ as in nothing that concerns you.” She hissed darkly.

My grip tightens on the wheel as I attempt to bite my tongue instead of saying something but I can’t help it. Holding back only makes the anger inside me build up. Here I am trying to help her out and she’s being not only difficult but also bitchy.  All she had to say was 'I don’t want to talk about it.’ and I would have understood, sure I would have been annoyed that yet again she was pushing me away but I wouldn’t press on the topic. She didn’t have to go on like that. Its almost like she’s begging for a fight.

“Well considering that we are together I’m pretty sure it concerns me.” I torment under my breath.

Arleigh doesn’t like this. From the corner of my eye I can see that she is glaring at me, clearly fuming that I was standing my ground. We both held a stubborn trait but it had never gotten in the way because we always understood when to back down and when not to push it to far. Since Arleigh wasn’t in the mood it should have been my responsibility to back down but I couldn’t seem to help myself.

“Just because we are together doesn’t mean I have to tell you everything.” She shot back.

“It kind of does but of course you would know nothing about that.” My frustration was growing and I was thankful that we had just turned into our street because I shouldn’t be driving while fighting with Arleigh.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She snapped now fully turning in her seat as if to let me know that  I have her full attention which only adds more pressure on me as I continue to drive.

“Just that you suck at normal relationship stuff!” I huff out and it finally feels good to get things off my chest. “You never want to go on dates, you hate showing PDA, and you never talk to me about anything that troubles you but then you expect me to comfort you.”

“You know what, stuff you, I honestly don’t need your rubbish.” She shouts taking off her seat belt and stepping out of the car now that I am parked in front of m house. “You don’t know what its like to have actual problems that’s why I don’t talk to you.  You have two parents who love you and give you everything, your family is happy, you just don’t understand what its like to loose both your parents.” And with that she slams the door and storms away leaving me confused. How could she have lost both, she lives with her father? Is Mr Axle not her real father, is that why she looks nothing like him and why he is so evil and protective over her, it would make sense.

Stupidly, I realize that I’m sitting in the car dumbfounded. Hurriedly I kill the engine, take the keys out and follow her. When I reach her driveway she is already at the front door unlocking it. I call after her but she ignores me, opens the door and slams it shut behind her. I begin to bang on the door and call out for her but she doesn’t respond. With one last kick of frustration at the door I give up and head home.

*

As soon as I slam the front door shut behind me. I push Layla against it, my lips attacking hers but nothing happened. All I wanted was to forget Arleigh but I couldn’t. As I kissed Layla while my hands roamed up and down her body freely my mind wondered back to Arleigh, how her lips always tasted soft and sweet thanks to the strawberry flavored lip balm she always used, how her kisses always felt innocent and pure yet full of passion as if to her it was more than just kissing, it was her way of showing she loved me. As Layla’s hands move to my shirt and begin to pull it up I can’t help but wonder what Arleigh would look like doing this, she had taken my shirt off a few times. She would bite down on her lip and focus her attention on my face sneaking a few looks down to my abdomen as if she was embarrassed of checking me out.

Picking up Layla I make my way up the stairs to my bedroom hurriedly, wanting nothing more than for the thought of Arleigh to leave me for five minutes. Her ghost was haunting me, hollowing me out until all that consumed me were thoughts of Arleigh, but I wouldn’t let it win, it will not consume me.

Thankfully Aaliyah has netball practice and will not be home for another few hours which gives me all the time I need to rid myself of the thought of Arleigh.

Peeling Layla’s clothes away I begin to kiss on her body gently, the way I would if she were Arleigh. I would treat her like a piece of glass and make sure that she was okay with everything. But Layla’s moans remind me that she is not Arleigh causing me to grow angry and speed up the pace. Arleigh would hold back her moans and only let out small sighs unwillingly.

Once both Layla and I are naked a slip inside her and begin to thrust as hard and fast as I possibly could. Her hands grip onto my back only causing me to grow angrier. If Arleigh was under me she would have her fingers laced with mine or her hands gently around my neck pulling me closer, she wouldn’t be moaning my name loudly like Layla she would bee kissing me and whispering how she loves me.

Why hadn’t I waited for Arleigh, she would have been worth the wait, I knew that from day one. I was prepared to wait until marriage if that was what she wanted, but that stupid night ruined everything.

tag list: @honeypotmendes @justanotherfangirl272 @illuminatedestiny @youllbemineandillbeyours

#queued #shawn mendes #shawn mendes imagines #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes series #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes oneshot #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes story #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes blurbs

[tmnt-veelicious]

Across the Stars - Ch.3

Warning, mentions of panic attacks in this chapter !! I can say it’s minor, but it’s mentionned and described twice. Things will get happier soon, I promise :’) !!! I’m just a sucker for hurt/comfort aaahhh First Chapter --> HERE Previous Chapter --> HERE Next Chapter --> HERE

She hated this. Like the whole world was against her. First the rain on her way to work, then the worst customers and Vee constantly dropping pile of clothes around or slamming her leg or foot hard against a table or a corner. And then her parents HAD to call her, asking for news, how her plans were doing. The lack of improvement regarding her artistic career always created some tension amongst the family, and now the fact that she had moved to New York bringing confusion and disappointement. Yes she had wanted to flee. Vee wanted to start fresh, but the glooming menace of failure always followed her, not even caring about her path. She wanted to disappear. The apartment was empty, Vee knowing April was spending the night at Casey's. She was glad, but on the other hand she feared being alone... Her vision was blurry, her breath harsh. She tried to remove her coat, but every movements felt like a hard task, her legs suddenly shaking. No. Not now. She collapsed against the entry door, sitting down, knees brought up, arching her head towards them. She wanted to hide, she wanted the thoughts to stop. Sobs and hiccups escaped her, cursing her miserable state. She felt like being in an endless loop, nothing ever changing, nothing ever improving. Every efforts she ever made were fruitless, as pointless as her life. She felt her phone vibrate in her pocket, the motion good enough to divert her thoughts for some minutes. She fumbled her hand through her coat's pocket, soon getting the device before her and noticing a new message. (Donnie): Hey, how was your day :)? A smile tried to find its place on her lips, but every attempts failed, her eyes drowning in tears. They had exchanged phone numbers ever since they met up at the lair a week ago and somehow that recomforted Vee, knowing she could join her friend at any given time or place... She didn't know what to answer, her hands numb and shaking. She took some deep breaths, trying to override her emotions so she could sound normal. She mindlessly pushed a button so she could call him, the ringtone almost too loud for her ear. ''Hey Vee!'' His voice was all she needed. ''Hi Donnie, sorry for calling … texting now just feels like a chore.'' ''Is everything alright?'' She could already notice the concern in his voice. She forced a small laugh, trying to sound light-hearted. ''Yeah, I guess. … I just had a long day today.'' She sighed, looking at her free, trembling hand. ''… I was wondering if I could come by your place? April's not here and I don't feel like hanging all by myself.'' ''Yeah, sure! We're not going on patrol tonight so it's totally fine.'' ''Could you come and lead the way, though? I have no clue how to get there. … Gosh I sound so demanding, I'm sorry.'' ''No you don't and I'll be there in twenty minutes approximately.'' ''… Thanks Donnie.'' As soon as the call ended Vee let out a long sigh, her head hanging back so it could rest against the door. She needed to breathe, calm her nerves... She finally got up, already heading for the bathroom. She looked like a mess, her eyes slightly red and her cheeks wet. Grumbling, she proceeded to splash some water over her traits, trying to refresh her. Her shaking had dimnished, but it was still slightly present, especially in her hands and knees. She decided to make herself a cup of tea, knowing waiting would only bring back some bad thoughts... Sitting by the table, her coat hanging nearby, cup in hand, she stared down her brew, her fingers lightly tapping some random rhythms, occupying her somehow. Then she heard a knock on one of the living room's windows, a soft smile coming to her lips as she got to it and noticed the presence of the turtle on the other side, hanging on the balcony nearby. She opened the way to him, next stepping aside so he could come in. ''Hi!'' he simply greeted, his eyes never leaving her. ''Hi,'' she replied, still smiling, although her eyes revealed her tiredness. Donnie couldn't hide his frown, studying the woman. Her posture, everything, showed something was wrong. Even her hand holding a mug was slightly shaking. ''… Are you sure everything's alright?'' he asked. She took a long sip of her tea, arching an eyebrow. ''Yes, genius. As you may recall, I said I had a long day today,'' she answered with a smirk. ''You sure you want to head out then?...'' Vee had moved back to the kitchen to dispose of her cup and next grabbing her coat, her smile now genuine as she got back to the turtle. ''Absolutely! A new environment will do good on my thoughts.'' She was already climbing out the window, finally spotting the mutant who was still inside, watching her. ''… Are you coming or not?'' she asked, amused. She finally saw him smile as he moved, soon next to her, closing the window. As they were making their way down Vee's mood was finally starting to shift, a warm feeling invading her. She felt so at ease by Donatello's side, not even minding as he took her in his arms, jumping down a manhole, soon dwelling into New York's sewers. Now walking side by side, they managed some small talk, Vee mindlessly hooking her arm around Donnie's, sighing with a smile. ''It's so funny to think we can hang out now. … I've somehow always thought you'd be nothing more but a name on a screen, and here you are...'' ''Here I am, with a lovely woman by my side,'' he commented. Vee snorted, looking up to him with amusement, noticing he was now blushing, realizing what he just said. ''I do have my charms, yes, thanks for noticing,'' teased the human. ''Don't ever listen to whatever I say. It's all just mess now.'' ''What now?'' faked Vee, as if she had troubles hearing. ''I'm sorry, I thought I heard someone speak. There must be interferences.'' Donnie snickered, slightly nudging the other in a playful way. They arrived to the lair, the place surprisingly calm, except for some noises coming from a television. As Donatello offered to take the woman's coat, being the gentleman he always was, Vee noticed that the sound was coming from a video game, Michelangelo and Raphael sitting on a couch, occupied with their competition. ''Woah, Super Smash Bros. Sweet,'' commented the woman, getting near. Mikey turned around with a smile, not even caring that he was then getting obliterated by Raph's character. ''Hey angelcakes! Good to see you!'' The end of the game made itself clear, the orange masked turtle suddenly looking at the scream, soon a loud laughter coming out of Raph. ''Well then! Now I know what's the trick for instantly winning against you,'' he said with a grin. ''I just need to bring a hot girl around and you won't pay any attention at all.'' Vee blushed at that remark, surprised. Although it was short-lived as Donnie was back to her side, rolling his eyes. ''Move aside boys and let a pro show you how to really kick butt!'' ''Wait! How about a four players match?'' questionned Mikey. He looked at Vee with a challenging smile. ''Unless the pretty lady is scared.'' Vee entered the game, puffing her posture as to look confident. ''I was born with a super nintendo in my hands,'' she declared. ''I can easily beat you all, video gaming's in my veins.'' The young turtle cheered as Vee was next seated between him and Donatello on the couch, soon given a controller. Her character choice was stopped on Fox as Mikey chose Samus, Raph Bowser and Donnie Greninja. The match was set with no time limit, only with five lifes each. And Vee proved to be a real challenge for the mutants. As the match went on, it was soon left to her against Donatello, both character's speed proving to be a good trial, until it finally resolved to the woman winning, all four players cheering from the thrill (Donnie was slightly pouting, jokingly, although he was a good sport about all this). ''Who won?'' asked a new voice. All of them turned to Leonardo who got intrigued by all this comotion. The three other turtles all pointed to Vee who was showing a large grin, victorious. The leader in blue smirked, somehow amused. ''Oh no, nobody's stealing this champion's title in this house, not even a guest.'' He came around the couch, grabbing Raph's controller on the way. ''Time to show who's the boss,'' he joked, sitting on the floor, glaring at Vee with a toothy grin. ''Game on,'' replied the woman, already up for the challenge. He chose Meta Knight, somehow predictable, as Vee took Yoshi. ''What the hell, Vee, you won't stand a chance!'' pointed out Mikey. ''Oh don't worry, I've got some tricks up my sleeves,'' simply answered the human, not even stressed. The rule was changed to three lifes instead of five and the battle began soon enough. At first Vee seemed overwhelmed by the other's prowess, although she was able to catch on, soon leaving both of them with one life each. It was time for the grande finale. Vee tried to look as emotioneless as possible, even if she wanted to laugh. She placed Yoshi near the edge of the map, waiting patiently. ''Vee, move!'' warned Donnie. She did not answer, waiting until Leo's character was near enough and she swallowed it, Yoshi shitting a frickin' egg into the void. The end was soon announced and acclamations roared from the three brothers, Leo too dumbfounded to react. He finally stood up, staring down the human, until he finally cracked a new smile. ''Alright, good game. But I will get my revenge,'' he said, next handing back the controller to Raph. Vee didn't know either she had to act smug or slightly scared. She waited until he was gone before she piped up: ''I hope I didn't overstep any boundaries by beating him.'' ''HA! Hell no,'' commented Raphael, amused. ''Lil' prince needs to be taken down his throne from times to times.'' ''And you totally need to teach us some kick-ass moves, dudette,'' added Mikey. ''That egg thing was awesomely clever.'' ''I can definitely show some of them, but not all if I still want to beat you guys!'' answered Vee with a smirk. With that started a new round, the woman's smile never fading, forever glad of this time she could spend with the turtles. *** The weeks went by, time always flowing too fast for Vee's taste. It was now a little over the middle of October, the air cold and crisp, the trees showing red and orange leaves, as bright as flames. The incoming freshness did bring some good to the woman as she took that as an excuse to bring coffees for Donatello and herself whenever she would go visit the lair. It wasn't rare for the duo to hang together now, mostly spending their time on starting projects, the human simply overjoyed to be able to participate. Even if it was simply cleaning tools, go over some of his lines on blueprints and mixing some fluids in his lab, she was glad to have a little taste of his world, may it be in silence or plunged into deep conversations. She couldn't help her feeling of easiness when around him, the bond they had developped over the last few months only getting stronger. Although she knew there were probably things she still didn't know about him, as she still omitted to reveal some about herself. But she knew things would come to light in time, if it ever was to happen... The last few days had been hard on her overall state. From insomnia to panic attacks, she knew her only salvation was to get herself occupied with various activities. She never mentionned her troubles, but knew too well that the dark circles under her eyes never escaped the mutant's attention. He never said anything, as if awaiting for her to speak or give a certain signal... Only for it to happen one night as she was cleaning some test tubes in his lab, one suddenly escaping her hands and shattering on the floor. ''Ah, shit, I'm so sorry,'' she hissed, cursing herself afterward, trying to search for a broom or anything that could help her clean. He noticed her hands shaking, her movements more frantic than usual. When she failed to find anything to clean, she crouched down, trying to take the broken pieces in her hands. ''Don't touch that! You'll cut yourself!'' warned Donnie, suddenly off from his chair, grasping her arm and putting her back on her feet. He noticed the woman's pained expression. At first he thought he was probably holding her a bit too strongly, but then he saw her hands shaking more, soon her knees following. He started to move her out of the lab, grabbing a stool chair on the way. ''No, no, Donnie, wait, I'm fine,'' started to blabber Vee. He didn't say a word, placing the object so it could face his chair and then he seated the human down, him next taking place on his own. ''You are not fine and now I want to hear why,'' he said, never releasing her hands, his eyes fixed on her. ''There's nothing to say.'' Her voice was shaking. ''You want me to overlook how tired you look, fine, '' he added. ''But right now you're showing signs of a panic attack and I'm not going to let you go over that alone.'' He slowly massaged her palms, trying to soothe her. ''… I've seen signs over the last few weeks and I thought you'd open to me one day.'' ''Because there's nothing to say,'' repeated Vee harshly, some tears escaping her eyes without her consent, looking away. ''It's something I'm going through all by myself and I don't see why I should bring others in this.'' She tried to calm her emotions as words didn't stop leaving her mouth. ''I've always been like this. I worry too much about things and then I overthink and this happens. I'm trying my best to succeed and please people around me, but everytime it just fails and it's never enough.'' This time she cracked, her head bowing down as a sob escaped her. She had tried so hard to fight everything for weeks, but now she felt weak. Somehow voicing all of this made her realize how bad things were... ''I feel like I'm stuck,'' she continued, her voice breaking. ''I just want to disappear.'' God, she felt so stupid right now. ''I- I didn't want you to see me like this. This is ridiculous...'' She could feel some spasms in her legs, her teeth clenching, trying to control it. She felt Donnie's hands shift, now cupping her cheeks. Her eyes were now planted in his, the mutant's voice almost an echo as he started to speak. ''Follow my lead,'' he said. ''I want you to breathe in for four seconds, keep it in for seven and then exhale for eight. Do it with me.'' Inhale. One. Two. Three. Four. Keep. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Exhale. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. She could feel his thumbs wiping her tears away, his touch warm and recomforting. Vee's body was slowly starting to calm down, keeping her focus on the turtle and the breathing exercize. After what felt like eternity, Donnie gently pulled the woman towards him, soon letting her sit in his lap. He didn't hesitate to keep her in his arms, embracing her in hopes that she would continue to relax. At first Vee was frozen, but she finally reciprocated the hug, her arms now around his neck, hiding her face against his skin. For once she knew she could forget everything, get lost in this feeling. She could feel his heartbeat, strong and rapid, just like hers. ''… Please, don't hide this from me,'' he started, his voice soft. ''You don't have to face it alone. … Whatever is happening, I want to help you.'' Vee sighed, all her tensed muscles falling, giving in. ''… I just want to stay like this for a moment, if you don't mind.'' ''Not at all,'' he replied, simply leaning back comfortably into his chair, one of his hands mindlessly petting her back. No more words were added, both closing their eyes and letting their thoughts drift away. It was as if a huge weight had fallen off the woman's shoulder, her mind finally clear. She focused on Donatello's touch, soon his caress lulling her to sleep. Right now she felt safe and it was all that mattered. When he noticed the regular pattern in her respiration, he knew she was sleeping. At first he didn't know what to do, nervous, but he decided to shrug it off, knowing Vee's body had probably craved that rest for a long time... He slowly turned his chair back to his computer, deciding to get back to work as the woman was still asleep in his lap. The overall feeling was strange, but not unwelcomed. He had a bit of a hard time to focus, mainly because of what just happened. From their discussions, he always thought Vee to be an overall happy person, always laughing and glad to be helping others, but now it wasn't hard for the turtle to see that this was probably all some sort of facade.  Maybe not completely, knowing the woman tended to have an optimistic view of life, but everyone had their moments of weakness, such as this... ''Hey Donnie, in thirty minutes we'll gear up and go on pat-'' Leo's voice trailed off when he noticed the situation, throwing a questionning glare at his brother. The tall turtle felt like shrinking in his chair, only to sigh briefly. ''… She had a rough day,'' he said, quietly. ''Don't worry, I'll wake her up.'' He knew the leader probably had more questions in him, but the blue masked turtle simply shrugged, prefering to turn away and warn the others of their future departure. Donnie preferred to wait ten more minutes before deciding himself to wake the woman up. He tightened his embrace a little, daring to lightly nuzzle the top of her head. ''Hey Vee...'' She gasped, her body jumping as she tried to get back into the living world. ''Fuck,'' she said in a tired tone. ''I'm sorry I shouldn't have-'' She stopped, her eyes meeting Donnie's. A blush came to her face, realizing how near they were now... At first she wanted to get off, but she was stopped by the mutant's desk, trapped on his lap. ''What the-?'' she grumbled. ''How long was I asleep?'' ''A good fifteen minutes at least,'' answered the turtle, turning his chair around so she could finally stand up. At first Vee's stance was a bit wobbly, her legs still asleep and recovering from her previous shaking, but she soon stabilized as Donnie was up to her side, a hand gently placed on her shoulder. ''You should have woke me up earlier,'' added Vee with a smirk. ''Had I been sleeping longer, I would have probably started drooling.'' ''How horrifying,'' joked the turtle. ''At least you didn't snore.'' ''Ha-ah, you're lucky indeed! … Anyway, why did you awaken this sleeping beauty, o prince charming?'' ''Leo told me we're going on patrol soon,'' answered Donnie, trying not to blush at what the woman had said. ''I guess we'll be dropping you to your place on the way.'' ''That'd be much appreciated.'' She was about to move out of his hold to get a grab of her coat, but the mutant stopped her, holding her hands once more. ''Vee... what just happened …, I don't like seeing you like this. If you need to reach out, please do. You don't have to be ashamed about any of that. We're friends, right? You can tell me anything.'' Vee showed half of a smile, somehow touched by his words. She did not hesitate to get near him once more, hugging him. At first the turtle was surprised, but soon decided to comply, his arms around her, nuzzling the top of her head again. ''I can't promise anything, but I'll try,'' answered Vee. ''I just don't like getting people involved into my bullshit, it gets so depressing.'' ''Try me, I'm tougher than I look!'' That got a soft laugh from Vee, finally looking up to Donnie with a genuine smile. ''Couldn't expect less from someone with a shell on its back.'' Their new proximity sent a slight shiver down their spines, their hold lingering for more than needed... It was only after Mikey's voice resonated across the lair, declaring their departure, that time was finally back on track, both now out of their arms, blushing. *** The night had been calm so far, except for a minor robbery attempt, but it wasn't anything the turtles couldn't stop. They were now sitting on top of a high apartment building, taking in the view before they called the patrol off. ''So,'' started Leo's voice, directed at Donnie. ''What was that thing with Vee all about?'' ''What thing?'' interjected in Mikey, truly curious. ''I caught tech-boy over here sitting in his chair with Vee all cuddled up on his lap.'' Donnie was already annoyed, especially after hearing Mikey commenting on how he was acting like a ''Don Juan''. ''I told you she had a bad day, Leo,'' answered the tall turtle. ''Yeah but having a bad day doesn't always have to equal with cuddling,'' added Raph. ''What's going on between you two anyway?'' ''Sorry for showing basic kindness. We're not poisonous so I don't see why it should be seen as weird or forbidden to hug someone, especially a friend.'' Raph threw his hands in the air, faking to be scared. ''You're the one making a big deal out of this now. … We're just curious 'cause we see how you two keep looking at eachother.'' Donatello sighed, not even denying his brother's words. ''… Look guys, she had a panic attack and I was just trying to calm her. Things seems to go bad for her these days and I just want to help.'' ''Man, she doesn't look like the kind of person to have that sort of struggle...'' commented Mikey, a bit concerned. ''Is she always feeling like that?'' ''I'm guessing some days are better than others,'' answered Donnie, shrugging a little. ''I've just discovered that she suffers from those. She hides it well at times and she's strong, but she shouldn't face it alone...'' ''And so what? Now you wanna try to fix her?'' objected Raph. ''She's a human, Donnie, her problems are not the same as our own. If she's strong, like you said, she'll figure things herself and get better.'' ''You obviously don't know anything about anxiety, do you?'' questionned the tall turtle, frowning. ''No, but what I do know is that if many humans don't want anything to do with us, why would she be any different? Why would she need your help?'' The red masked turtle was now standing straight, trying to make himself look more intimidating just like everytime he would start an argument, but Donatello wasn't phased by it, keeping his position. ''Because we're friends and that's what friends do, they help eachother. Knowing her, she would have already run away if she didn't want any of this.'' ''Okay, enough,'' intervened Leo, getting between the two, especially stopping Raphael. ''We are protectors of this city, Raph, and helping humans is what we do, better they like it or not.'' He looked at Donnie. ''And if one of them can find solace with one of us, fine … as long as it doesn't distract from trainings and patrols. Understand?'' Raph huffed, moving away, knowing he wouldn't be able to argue his way out of the leader's words. Some tension could be felt, until Michelangelo chided in: ''It's like watching a soap opera, dude.'' ''Shut up, Mikey!'' said the three others in unison.

#chapter #fanfic #tmnt #tmnt donatello #tmnt leonardo #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt raphael #oc #selfinsert #tmnt 2014 #tmnt 2016 #writing #and gdi that fucked up writing before the read more wtf

[loki-subterfuge]

Irked

Author: lokilover9 Chapter: #17 Rating:Teen Notes: Movies ~ What Women Want with Helen Hunt ~ As Good As It Gets with Jack Nicholson. Song ~ Night And Day by The Temptations Relieved to discover Shandis jacuzzi only half full, the ladies happily eased themselves into it and got comfortable. “Ahhhh. Isn’t this nice, Natskies? It fits two perfectly.” “It does. So why did Loki threaten to spank you?” “Geez your brain pounces to the gutter awfully fast. Were you always this perverted? Maybe you were a man in a past life an’ it filtered over into this one.” “That would explain a lot…well?” “In case I didn’t let him help me outta the car an’ hold hands in public. Said we need to appear in love.” “He’s right. Why hadn’t you agreed to that before?” “‘Cause I didn’t wanna.’” “Mmm. Still in denial of your feelings were you?” Shandi stared at her, uncertain of how to respond. “Okay, look. I’ll admit to findin’ him somewhat..attractive…” “Somewhat?” Asked Nat. “I’ll bet sleeping across the hall from him is causing some wet dreams.” ‘If you only knew.’ “There’s that perv again. Even if it were, it’s not like I could relieve myself.” “Why? I thought your newest vibe was pretty quiet?” “It was. When amongst the livin.’” “A little aggressive, were we?” “No.” Said Shandi. “I played nice. Then outta nowhere, it went tits up. The day we left, too.” “No wonder you appeared agitated that morning.” “Nu uh. That happened ‘cause I forgot where I’d put the damn Hitachi and tore my room apart lookin’ for it. You shoulda seen me. Tossin’ shit from drawers over my shoulder, pullin’ stuff from bins under the bed…dumpin’ baskets outta the closet. You’d think the Tasmanian Devil from..Bugs freakin’ Bunny, had himself a tantrum in there.” Nat laughed. “Hopefully your treasure hunt was successful.” “Sorta. I twied…‘tried’….” “Twied what, Elmer Fud?” Shandi splashed her. “Back off, woman. ‘Tried’..to use it here an’ it’s toast, too.” Nat laughed again. “What the fuck? You broke two vibrators in one week? Who does that, Shandi?” “Oh shuddup. Now I’ll be goin’ manual ‘til our missions over.” “Why bother when Loki’s readily available?“ “An’ what do you ‘spose I do Natskies? March over there durin’ the night an’ wake him with a slap to the ass? ‘Yo Cactus, I could use a stress release. Mind if I play ‘ride the rodeo bull’ on your face?’” “That’s a perfect idea.” “Uh..no.” “Then have him drive you to the local sex shop to buy another.” “Oh, sure. I’d never live that down an’ have ya forgotten the breast pump incident?” “What about it?” “Seriously? The God of Mischief in a store with..vibratin’ dildos, butt plugs an’..bondage supplies? Nope.” Seconds later… “Clint can take him. Then tell Cactus what you want, via snapchat.” ***** Meanwhile, Loki was finding the increasing volume level of Clints music, unnerving and offered him another drink. When discovering the kitchen empty and the second bottle of vodka missing, he returned. “The ladies seem to have mysteriously disappeared.” “You’re kiddin’ me.” Said Clint. “How long ago?” “It’s been at least an hour.” “Oh really? I’ll bet I can guess what they’re up to.” “That being?” Loki asked. In his rather inebriated state, Clint revealed Nat was bisexual and Loki’s brows rose. “Are you suggesting what I think you are?” “I don’t know, but they constantly screw with me insinuating it.” “Do they now? Then I suggest we investigate their whereabouts.” Hoping leaving the music on would give them a better advantage, it almost worked until Cupid malfunctioned. Loki knocked on Shandis door and receiving no answer, slowly turned the knob. Then a hastened shove from Clint, slammed it against the inner wall. “Could you be more conspicuous? I might as well have tied a fog horn to your neck.” “Fuck off Cactus.” Hearing all the noise, Nat and Shandi sunk beneath the bubbles and Loki knocked at the ensuite. “May we come in?” “You may.” Said Shandi. He opened it and again, Clint pushed past him and scoffed at Nat. “Yeah, just as I thought. You’re screwing with me again.” She batted her lashes. “Meaning?” Loki leaned against the doorframe, smirking at Shandi. “Discussing menstrual cramps were you?” Clint continued. “Vixens. I’ll bet you’re both dressed under there and can prove it.” Bending too fast to touch Nat, he slipped and fell in, forcing a large wave of water onto the floor. “Fuck me!” Nat was holding her drink in the air and smiled, when he landed in her lap. “Now?” Loki swung into action, using magic to clean it up, while Clint snapped Nats bra strap. “Was that really necessary?” She asked. “To prove my point, yes!” “Uh, baby cakes…” “And now I’m soaked because…” “But, baby cakes…” “Don’t interrupt, Nat…” “CUPID!” Loki suddenly shouted. “WHAT, CACTUS? WHAT?” He gestured towards Shandi who’d escaped Clints path, but with the water shallower, was concealing her naked tits with her hands. “Shit, sorry darlin.’” Once he left to change, Loki eyed Shandi and Nat. “Have any further pressing issues to discuss, or will you actually be re joining us this time?” “Beat it.” Said Nat. “Before I drop kick your sorry ass.” He smiled, closing the door. “I’ll take that as a yes.” Back in the entertainment room, Clint asked Loki to keep his revelation about Nat, secret. She was partially dressed after all and he regretted embarrassing Shandi. Loki thought it wise to prevent any unwanted visits, from paramedics. The ladies sauntered in with water bottles and Loki eyed Shandis new attire, of form fitting tights and a t shirt. “Care to explain yourselves?” “Shandi craved chocolate and bubbles.” Said Nat. His arms crossed. “This was your idea?” “What of it..brat who skinny dips after midnight?” “Aren’t you cheeky.” Shandi stood her ground. “An’ what of that, too?” They stared each other down and Loki envisioned reddening her ass, when Clint spoke up. “Maybe you guys are taking this husband and wife thing a little too seriously.” They both looked at him. “Hey, just an observation and uhh..sorry about that Shandi.” She smiled. “It’s all good.” “Why don’t we watch a movie? Flip a coin for dibs.” Said Nat. The girls won and decided on ‘What Women Want.’ Everyone settled into the large sectional, with Shandi curled up against an arm next to Loki. She kept repositioning her legs and after the third time, he leaned in and whispered. “Use me.” Smirking at her confused expression, he gently placed one across his thighs. “Better?” “Mm hm. Thanks.” Clint had long fallen asleep, when during a scene near the films end, the actors were slow dancing in the female characters bedroom. The song playing was Night And Day and Nat looked over at Shandi. “There it is again.” Loki glanced between them. “What?” “That dreamy look in her eye every time she watches them dance to that song. She’ll listen to it for days now until the effect wears off.” “You’ve both seen this before?” “Yes, it’s one of her favorites.” Said Nat. “The other is ‘As Good As It Gets.’ “I don’t know what she’s talking about, there’s nothing to see.” Said Shandi. Nat reached for the remote. “You missed out, Cactus. I’ll rewind it.” Shandi gave her the stink eye and he chuckled. “Take heed Kroshka, you’re being warned.” She put it back. “Apparently so.” When it was over, they decided to call it a night and Nat couldn’t wake Clint, so he was left there. Shandi helped take their bags upstairs then returned to the kitchen. Loki entered with some glasses, to find her searching through multiple cupboards. ‘Shit.’ “You’ve rearranged everything. Messed me right up.” She teased. “Clint loves Fruit Loops and I wanted to set him up with my spare box.” “Mustn’t one be awake to eat? Worry about it tomorrow.” He suggested. “I might forget.” After looking in every one, she finally turned to him. “They’re missing along with other items I bought on our first shop.” ***** Nat was just returning up the front stairs, when hearing Shandis unimpressed tone and froze. Loki was visible from where she stood, but he couldn’t see her. ***** “I’ve a confession to make, Shandi. On the day you were ill, I disposed of all the frozen goods you’d purchased out of concern they would cause the same. Your Fruit Loops, Coco Puffs and Lucky Charms, magically disappeared the day after.” He’d hoped light humor might smooth her crinkling brow, but it failed. “Well, I can’t find anything we bought today, either. Where is all that, Loki?” He hesitated. “It never left the store.” Shandi began recalling the day’s events. “That’s why you had me wait in the car…threw everything in the trunk and then put it away before I noticed. You were deceiving me the entire time.” The look of disappointment on her face, made Loki’s stomach knot. “I hadn’t meant…” She interrupted, her tone calm, yet firm. “Please don’t? I thought from our conversation about subjecting me to things without my knowledge Loki, you fully understood it’s not okay. Yet even as we had it, you were concealing things. Then you did the same, when mentioning my diet earlier. I said I’d consider your help after you stated, ‘It’s up to you.’ You could’ve confessed then what I’d chosen wasn’t purchased.” A heavy sigh escaped her. “Maybe to you, they’re simply unhealthy choices about food. The point is, they’re ‘my’ choices. One’s only ‘I've’ the place to make, no matter what they regard.” Loki was internalizing every word, knowing it pointless to defend himself. Regardless the nature of his intentions, she was right. He’d purposely deceived her and tried to conceal it, again. Shandi stopped at the backstairs and looked to him. “I wish you wouldn’t have done this. I liked trusting you. Goodnight.” With that, she was gone and Loki silently berated himself. ‘Brilliant you idiot. Fucking brilliant.’ Seconds after Shandi arrived in her room, Nat entered and quietly closed the door. “Clints lost without his phone in the morning, thought I’d take it to him. You alright?” “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” “Don’t be angry, but I kind of eavesdropped on the way back. Heard everything.” “What, that?” Shandi began searching for pajamas. “It was nothing.” She rammed the drawer back in with her hip. “Nothing at all.” “Obviously.” As they readied for bed, Nat watched her become increasingly frustrated. After dropping the toothpaste lid, she grumbled curses, searching for it behind the toilet, slammed the doors beneath the bathroom sink, banged the lid shut on the hamper after shoving her clothes into it, then turned towards the bed, tripped over the Hitachi bag and toppled onto the floor. “Fuck!” Nat was already in bed and laughed. “Oh, beautiful. You’ve got it bad.”

[raendown]

As it turns out, I have no idea how to blatantly seduce someone. This might explain my awkward teenager stage. But I did give it a try!

Pairing: MadaraTobirama Word count: 2385 Summary: Madara didn't believe Tobirama could seduce anyone until he witnessed it happening - and found himself seduced in the process as well.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

Fingers In The Honeypot

“Obviously we can’t kill him.”

“Obviously.”

In tandem, the two men let out a quiet sigh of disappointment. They might not agree on many things but they definitely agreed that they wished they could kill the diplomat across the room from them. He was loud, abrasive, smug, and boastful even when his stories were nothing to truly boast about. Even worse, he looked down on all shinobi as lesser beings. Were he anyone else he would have been dead before the first hour of the party had finished.

As it was, his status protected him from such retribution as they would have preferred to deliver him. Akinori Tanabe was the Daimyo’s closest advisor and the only man with access to the information they needed on the noble who was their true target, one who had been doing everything within their power to sabotage Konoha’s efforts to spread its roots. They were going to have to employ some other method than violence to retrieve that information from the smarmy braggart if they hoped to foil the noble’s latest plan.

“So what do you suggest?” Madara grumbled. “Hmph. Wish your brother had sent me here with a Yamanaka instead of you.”

Tobirama sent his companion a withering look and deliberately took his time before answering. He tilted his head and observed his target, considering the problem from all angles. Which would be the course of action least likely to draw attention? Most of the things which came to mind were loud or violent and he discarded them one by one until at last he shrugged.

“We could always fall back on the classics.”

“Be more specific,” his companion demanded flatly.

“Rumor states that he prefers the company of men. One of us could seduce him.”

Madara stared at him for perhaps fifteen long seconds before turning his head and holding a hand to his mouth, muffling the laughter that threatened to ring throughout the entire room. Having sort of anticipated this kind of reaction, Tobirama waited patiently until the other man was able to calm himself down a little.

It took a while. Every time Madara turned back to look at his mission partner he burst in to a fresh round of mocking laughter. The very idea of Tobirama trying to seduce someone was hilarious to him for a number of reasons. Who the hell would be attracted to someone with such a stiff stick up their ass? And did the Senju even know what sex was? He could hardly imagine Tobirama unbending enough to attempt anything even close to seduction. In his head it was the most awkward thing in the world.

“Are you done?” Tobirama asked eventually. Madara sniggered once more.

“You’re not serious, are you?”

“Why not? The human male predilection for giving up pretty much anything in return for sex is rather well known. I don’t see why it’s not a valid option.”

“Are you kidding me?” Madara shook his head. “Because it won’t work, that’s why. The man detests me and you probably couldn’t seduce yourself in to jerking off. The very idea of you attempting to seduce anyone is laughable – literally; how long was I laughing for just now?”

Rolling his eyes and sniffing with insult, Tobirama set off across the room with a flippant, “Watch and learn.”

Madara didn’t even try to call him back. The mere prospect of getting to watch him try to awkwardly flirt and fail miserably was enough to make this entire stupid mission worth it. So instead he wandered slowly after the other to place himself closer to what was sure to be some prime entertainment. He was already amused to watched Tobirama run a hand through his hair as he walked, ruffling the strands until they fell in artful disarray.

Actually, he noted reluctantly, the effect wasn’t half bad. It softened the man’s face in a way.

“Akinori-sama,” Tobirama murmured in a surprisingly deferential tone, “If I might have a moment of your time.”

Pausing in the conversation he was having, their target turned to see who was interrupting him. When he spotted Tobirama there his eyes seemed to light up and he immediately shooed the other person away. A sinuous smile crossed his face as he motioned Tobirama closer.

“Call me Tanabe, please,” he said. “I confess, I’d been hoping I could steal you away from that untamed beast you arrived with. Truly I pity you for having your sensibilities constantly offended by such boorish behavior.”

“Your sympathies are most appreciated, Tanabe.” Tobirama’s voice affected a rolling purr as he shaped the syllables of the diplomat’s name like a lover’s caress. Akinori leaned towards him unconsciously and Madara rolled his eyes in disgust from his hiding place. “It’s so loud in here, don’t you think? Perhaps it would more pleasant if we could speak somewhere…quieter.”

“I would like nothing more.” One could almost see triumph flashing in Akinori’s eyes at the suggestion, a clear bid for privacy more so than a request for a less noisy venue. Tobirama was obviously not bothering to play subtle but there was no doubt that his tactics were already working. In merely four sentences he had managed to convince the target to go somewhere alone with him as well as capture his interest in what basically amounted to a voluntary honeypot mission.

Madara slipped unseen in to the shadows and followed the two of them from a distance as Akinori led his partner out of the main hall and in to an empty one which took them a few minutes to reach. Actually it sort of looked like a servant’s hallways, which would guarantee that no one important could discover them here.

“What was it you wished to discuss?” Akinori asked, leaning back against the wall in what he surely believed was a seductive pose. It really wasn’t but Tobirama’s surprisingly was as the pale shinobi stepped up in to the other man’s personal space and put all his weight on one arm, palm resting just beside the advisor’s head. He flashed a wicked grin which succeeded in weakening two different sets of knees.

“Nothing in particular,” he admitted. “Mostly I just wanted Tanabe-sama’s attention for myself – but of course it would be terribly improper of me to admit to something like that. We should find something to talk about.”

“Truly…” Akinori appeared to suddenly be having trouble breathing.

“Pointless gossip should do. Nothing we wouldn’t have spoken of before.” Tobirama gave a careless shrug as he leaned a little closer, lifting his free hand to draw one finger almost casually down his target’s chest. “Something I don’t really need to listen to so that I may concentrate on…other things.”

“Anything you like,” Akinori mumbled. “Anything at all.”

“The Ishii clan are sufficiently boring. Surely there can’t be much gossip surrounding them and such a quick conversation would leave us open to discuss those ‘other things’ I mentioned.”

From his spot unseen only a few feet away, Madara swallowed thickly and hoped to kami that his partner was putting all of his attention on what he was doing, sparing none for him. It simply wouldn’t do for the pale bastard to know how much Madara found himself affected by the wicked tone Tobirama had pitched his voice in. He could hardly imagine the horrors that would be visited upon him were the other to discover that just a few words spoken in that manner had turned his knees to water.

Where had someone so cold learned to speak like that, anyway?

Akinori very clearly agreed with him. Diplomatic training to stayed poised at all times flew out the window as he leaned more heavily against the wall, chest heaving and fingers coming up to boldly trace the shapes of Tobirama’s arms. Although Madara was certain his companion would have preferred otherwise, he watched with a tightness in his gut as Tobirama allowed the touches and leaned even closer to whisper in the man’s ear.

“I trust you to keep up the conversation for me, Tanabe. Should anyone walk by it would be terribly inappropriate for them to hear anything else, yes?”

“Oh yes.” The response sounded more like a moan than anything else and Tobirama tutted lightly.

“The Ishii clan, Tanabe. Bore me with whatever they haven’t been up to while I tend to…more important matters.”

“Actually one of their lesser family members was just seen – oh...” Pausing nearly in the middle of a word, Akinori went up on his toes as his entire expression twisted with pleasure. Madara couldn’t quite see what Tobirama was doing to the man’s neck but whatever it was the effort appeared to be appreciated. It took the advisor a moment the collect himself and attempt to continue speaking in a breathy tone. “They were, um, seen in the village of Nakatsugawa. Buying…buying…”

Tobirama hummed, making his target shiver, and asked in a rumbling whisper, “What were they buying?”

“Weapons,” Akinori whimpered.

“Hm. And here I thought their home village was famed for its weapons production.”

“It is!”

Madara shifted very carefully, ensuring the motion made no noise. His own neck felt cold and hot at the same time, burning for such attentions to be lavished on himself and chilly at being denied. As reluctant as he was to admit it to himself, he was incredibly jealous of Akinori right then. His pride took a rather heavy blow as he silently acknowledged that he wished it was him in the advisor’s place with Tobirama’s touches on his own skin, being allowing to take such liberties as the hand he could see slowly making its distracted way down his partner’s back.

With minimal prompting the information continued to flow. Akinori mumbled without seeming to really pay any attention to his own words or even care that what he was revealing what might be considered sensitive information. The exact moment Tobirama decided he had enough was visibly obvious. His body language went from relaxed to tense in under a second, although the man before him didn’t seem to notice and continued to blather on.

The man never even noticed a thing as Tobirama casually raised a hand and pressed two fingers against the base of his skull, sending a carefully controlled pulse of chakra in to his brain stem. Akinori crumpled, instantly unconscious. Tobirama didn’t bother to catch him.

Slipping out of the alcove he had concealed himself within, Madara gave the body on the floor a disdainful sniff.

“His mouth runs like a leaky faucet,” he observed. Tobirama snorted.

“Indeed. Did you happen to note where his rooms are? We can leave him there and you can implant some memories of what I’m sure he was expecting to happen. That should keep him docile.” Madara froze at those words, giving his companion a suspicious look.

“You assume I can do such a thing with the Sharingan?”

Tobirama rolled his eyes and, seeing he wasn’t going to get help with the heavy lifting, heaved Akinori over his own shoulder. “Anyone who knows your clan can attest that each Mangekyo-stage Sharingan has a unique ability and I happen to know that one is yours. Although I am happy to burst any questionable fantasies you might have had by pointing out that it wouldn’t work on me. The technique implants your chakra in to your victim. I would most definitely feel that.”

As he turned to walk away, Tobirama gave his partner a cocky wink which sent Madara in to a fit of spluttering. It took a few moments for him to gather himself enough to follow the other down the hall, still lost in his thoughts. Sensing his chakra being transferred in to an opponent would certainly explain how Tobirama knew he was doing something, although most likely he would have had to ask one of their brothers for clarification on what exactly that something was. Just the idea that Tobirama had taken the time to ask about him did funny things to his insides.

Once their burden had been dropped off in his bedroom, enough memories implanted in him to keep him happy but not obsessed, the two of them briefly debated going back to the party. It would seem a little suspicious if they didn’t, although they hadn’t exactly been subtle about Tobirama removing Akinori from the room. In the end they decided to simply allow the rumors of something scandalous happening to fly freely and headed back towards their own set of rooms.

For the entire journey through the twisting corridors Tobirama continuously made expressions of mild disgust, running his tongue over his teeth and opening his mouth as though to air out his tongue. It looked just ridiculous enough that Madara let it pass without comment, enjoying the show.

That show came to a rather abrupt end, however, as they reached the corridor in which they were staying and Tobirama reached over without warning to reel him in with a tight grip around the back of his neck. Such was his shock that Madara froze entirely, standing completely still while Tobirama ravished his mouth in what was quite possibly the best kiss he had ever taken part in. Not that he was taking much of an active part. The very second he gathered enough of himself together to respond Tobirama was pulling away with a self-congratulatory look on his face, smacking his lips in satisfaction.

“My utmost apologies,” he purred. “I needed to get the taste of that idiot out of my mouth and replace it something more pleasant.”

“Uh, alright.” Madara blinked rapidly, unsure of how to respond to that.

“Now to wash his touch off the rest of me.”

Madara watched dazedly as the other stepped away from him and continued down the hall towards the chambers he had been given for their stay. Tobirama unlocked his door and opened it, then paused with one foot in the room to look back at the man still staring blankly at the empty air around his own head.

“Aren’t you coming?” he asked in a teasing tone, so many filthy promises hidden in those three short words.

Without giving the matter another thought Madara found his feet moving to follow. Suddenly he really wanted to know what those promises were like.

#rae writes #madatobi #madara #tobirama #fanfiction #naruto shippuden

[rom-e-o]

“Red Thread” - Jokamu AU [1]

The Jokamu AU game is strong on this site, so I wanted to toss my hat into the ring. I’ve been working on this project for a while, but it’s still not complete. So I thought I’d post a sneak peek here! 

It’s very bare bones and needs some major editing, but I hope it can be enjoyed. The final version with multiple chapters will be posted on FF/here for sure.

Legend states that two people connected by the Red Thread if Fate are destined lovers. The gods tie the thread around the little fingers of two people destined to be soulmates. The couple’s love transcends universes and exists regardless of place or time.

The thread may stretch or tangle, but will never break.

“Kana!” Corrin yelled upstairs to her son, who was supposed to be getting dressed for school. The woman knew she needed to continually prompt her son to hurry and get ready. Truthfully, she knew he was probably still in his pajamas and watching television. Her son was a good boy, albeit easily distracted.

Plus, she had a feeling the boy was still a little blue after their recent move.

Before living in the Valla Metropolitan Area, the mother and son duo had resided in the city of Nohr, where Kana had originally gone to school. Moving to the new municipality met that the boy had basically been uprooted from his home and separated from all his friends and even members of his Nohrian family. Frankly, the young woman couldn’t blame the poor boy for feeling stressed. She was an adult and she was still trying to find ways to cope.

If only the move had been all she’d had to worry about, perhaps it would have been easier to adapt.

The young woman hollered upstairs again, her hand cupping her mouth as she called up the stairs of her modest townhouse. “Hurry downstairs, honey! You’re going to be late for school!”

When no reply came, Corrin walked to the base of the stairs while reluctantly sliding her heels onto her already sore feet. She yelled again, “Kana! By the time I count to three, you better be downstairs!”

Silence answered her call.

“One…”

A muffled reply answered her call. It sounded like an ‘okay!’ She supposed that was promising enough for now. She’d give him a couple minutes before yelling up again.

The young woman sighed and ran a hand through her flaxen hair as she walked to her kitchen and took one last swig of coffee. The woman had barely been awake for an hour and had already emptied two cups. It seemed it was going to be one of those weeks.

She knew being a single mother would have its challenges, but she never imagined how hectic just the simple task of getting out the door in the morning would be.

Corrin had moved to the municipality of Valla about a year ago to accept a position of City Manager. The young woman had grown up with government ties in Nohr, but had moved to the city of Valla after learning of the nepotism and scandals in her hometown. The rumors had spread like wildfire and, although she’d never held a position of power in Nohr, she was quickly resented. She’d been born in the city of Hoshido, and even the legality of her citizenship had been called into question. Hoshido resented her, and it was too risky to remain in Nohr.

As a solution, she’d moved to Valla. It was an awkward city that was close to declaring bankruptcy. Her ultimatum had been to move to the city or face consequences in Nohr. If she could make a life there, perhaps she could give her son the childhood he deserved without having to witness political turmoil.

I have to give Kana a normal life, Corrin thought as she finished her coffee and placed the mug in the sink. He deserves it so much, especially after what he went through with his father…

The woman cringed, shuddering against all the violent memories that threatened to assail her in the moment. Corrin had left Kana’s biological father out of necessity, and had won the battle to take custody of Kana. That didn’t mean memories of her former spouse didn’t haunt her still.

Thankfully, the sound of her son’s footsteps awoke her from her day dream and directed her attention towards the corridor, where he was sitting on the bottom step and slipping on his sneakers. Seconds later, the boy bounced up and ran to his mother’s side, wearing casual clothes and sporting a messy hairstyle. The woman sighed at the sight of her son’s unkempt hair and decided to keep her mouth shut.

“Okay, I’m ready,” Kana said. “Mama, you don’t have to walk me to the station. I can get there by myself. You don’t have to worry about me.”

Any other kid would have made up the excuse to avoid being seen walking with his mother. Coming from Kana, it was a sincere statement.

“Are you excited?” Corrin asked as she reached for her purse and camel-colored coat, slipping it on over her narrow shoulders. “This is your first day of public school, after all.”

“Yep! I don’t have to wear a school uniform anymore,” he said excitedly. Despite his happy tone, she could tell at least part of his enthusiasm was only a façade. “So, um…that’s good.”

“Right,” Corrin replied awkwardly, averting her gaze from her son’s temporarily. A knife of guilt twisted into her heart, but she knew she was doing the right thing.

The young boy also retrieved his jacket from the nearby coat rack and pulled it on more clumsily than he would have liked. Corrin saw him struggl and reached down to help her son put his arms through the bulky sleeves.

“So, pop quiz time,” Corrin said as she kneeled to meet her son’s gaze. “How are you going to get home today?”

“I’ll get on the train and then transfer once to get to the station near the school,” he said with a nod. “When I come home, I can either take the train or the bus. There’s a stop a block away from the school, and I’ll take the bus home if there’s a delay for the train. I have the money for the fare if I need it, my metro card…and…”

The boy pursed his lips as he tried to recall the last item. Finally, he said with a burst of energy, “Oh! I also have that index card with your phone number on it in case I get lost!”

“That’s right,” Corrin said, wagging a finger in front of his face before playfully poking the tip of his nose. “If you get lost, be sure to call me as soon as possible. Just in case, I’ll give you some extra change for a payphone.”

As Corrin dug into her purse for some extra change that she’d otherwise probably use for toll booths, the little boy laughed and put a tiny hand on her elbow to stop her from giving him anymore money. Payphones were so outdated that it would be pointless to take away change she could possible use for more practical things anyway.

“I promise, Mama! I won’t get lost!”

Kana was completely lost.

The little boy had gotten to school without a problem and had found it incredibly easy to make friends. Although the classes at his former school had given him a jumpstart on some of the lessons, he was still baffled by some of the lessons taught by his older teacher. The boy didn’t catch his last name because all of the students simply referred to him by his first name, Gunter, much to the man’s chagrin.

Gunter’s irritation aside, Kana enjoyed his class and had even made friends with a younger girl named Midori. They’d played at recess and she had even volunteered to share her history textbook with him after the boy realized he’d forgotten to pack his after getting dressed. He supposed he got what he deserved after spending the entire morning watching cartoons instead of getting ready for school.

Once classes were dismissed, Kana had bid Midori farewell and set off to the train station. At least, that had been his plan.

The craziness of dismissal combined with the unfamiliar cityscape around the school had disoriented the boy and left him get turned around. Every building looked like the copy of the other. Some shone with a futuristic mirrored aesthetic while others were dull cement lumps anchoring shady street corners. The boy had circled the block a dozen times and hadn’t been able to locate the bus stop, train station or elementary school again.

After almost half an hour of walking through both safe and risky areas of the city, nothing around the boy looked familiar. None of the shops or stores looked like ones he’d passed on his way to school. Any bus stops he found weren’t on the route he needed to take home, and although he knew he could transfer if he had to, the map was so confusing that he didn't feel safe attempting to board.

Still, it was his best chance.

Kana had been holding back nervous tears for a while, but continued to force them back as he tried to navigate the overwhelming map of intertwining colorful pathways in parts of the city he didn’t even know existed.

Less than a minute later, the boy broke down into tears.

“Mama…” he wept, thinking only of how disappointed she would be in him. The boy had no idea that Corrin was already frantic with worry after calling her house and finding nobody home to take the call. She had already abandoned work early and driven to the school to find him, but Kana couldn’t have made it back even if he knew his mother was looking for him.

As he sniffled and tried to wipe his tears with the sleeves of his nylon jacket, he heard the soft ring of a bell a few feet behind him. It sounded like someone was exiting the shop behind the bus stop. Kana turned briskly in an attempt to hide his tears, but the stranger wasn’t fooled.

“Hey kid,” a voice droned lazily. “Um…are you lost? My old man said you can come in and use our phone.”

The blond child turned hesitantly to see the identity of the person who was speaking to him. The stranger was much older than him and appeared to be in high school. His clothes were dark and baggy, and his hair was thick but unkempt.

While Kana was initially put off by his deeply hooded eyes and hunched posture, there was something about the teen that seemed to calm him. Perhaps it was the very small, sincere smile on his face. It wasn’t the expression of someone faking kindness, but rather the smile of someone who was caring and concerned. His mother always looked at him similarly when he cried.

“I…um…” Kana stuttered as he gripped the zipper of his jacket nervously and tugged it back and forth. “I’m not supposed to talk to strangers.”

The teen laughed and nodded. He said slowly, “That’s good. Your parents taught you well.”

“My mom taught me,” Kana corrected timidly. “I can’t find her.”

The teen nodded sympathetically, feigning ignorance as if he hadn’t already pinpointed the vague source of the boy’s distress.

“Sure,” the teen said. “That’s really scary. I don’t blame you for being upset. I’d be scared too.”

Kana looked at the teen and blinked his eyes slowly. Some of the guilt he felt for getting lost was lifted from his tense shoulders.

“You can come inside the restaurant and use the phone, or we can wait outside and you can call her on my cell phone if that makes you more comfortable. My old man and I just didn’t want you out here and lost by yourself.”

While the neighborhood around them wasn’t specifically unsafe, it certainly wasn’t the place a child should be walking alone.

“The restaurant?” Kana asked quietly.

“Well, that might be a stretch,” the teen said, jerking a thumb over his shoulder. “It’s more like a café I guess.”

Kana followed the teen’s gesture and looked up to see a coffee shop with a variety of pastries in the window. The café was small and cramped like most places in the city, but the windows were nicely decorated with diamond-cut stained glass. The black, mauve and deep mahogany color scheme managed to make the small restaurant look incredibly classy and well-kept.

The words “Joker’s Patisserie” were written in delicate script on a wooden sign hanging above the door. A small sandwich board also sat near the front door depicting a white rabbit mascot wearing a jester hat. The little creature pointed a cartoonish wand at the drink and dessert specials of the day on the boards.

Kana’s teary eyes popped open to the size of blooming wildflowers. In almost an instant, his sadness was replaced with wonder.

“I wanna use the phone inside!”

If it had been any other occasion, Corrin would have absolutely been terrible at parallel parking.

However, the stakes were high enough that she didn’t overthink the process as she neatly slid between two tightly packed cars a few feet away from the “Joker’s Patisserie” café.

It had only been about half an hour since she’d originally gotten a call on her cell phone from an unrecognized number. The woman instantly felt hope brim up inside her knowing that it wasn’t a work phone call. Only one person had her number; her son.

The call had started with, “Um, hello? My name is Dwyer, and I’m calling to let you know your son Kana is okay. We found him lost outside our restaurant. He says that you might be at work right now, but we stay open pretty late so you can come pick him up as soon as you can. Our address is…”

Corrin wrote down the address, thanked the sleepy-sounding teenager, and shoved her phone right back into her coat pocket before restarting her car’s engine and making a beeline for the café. The trip would have been shorter if she hadn’t had to right city traffic, but it was still better than walking or waiting for a bus. Even if the caller said he was okay, she didn’t want to leave her baby alone in a place with strangers. He’d probably already had a traumatic day and she wanted to rush to his side as soon as possible.

Upon parking the car and setting the brake with a little more force than what was probably needed, she jumped out and ran in her work coat and heels down to the café. She opened the door and instantly ducked inside.

“Kana?”

The inside of the café was decently busy, so her initial call was drowned out by the sounds of customers and the soft sound of bossa nova music coming from over the sound system. The woman looked around and saw two waitresses, one with blue hair and another with pink hair, serving tables and juggling trays of fruity desserts and rainbow-colored drinks.

The interior of the shop was incredibly narrow with a bar on one side and a few tables for seating on the left. She didn’t see her son at any of the booths and looked around for a staff member to talk to. Almost immediately she pinpointed someone behind the counter with long pale hair and neatly pressed clothes. He didn’t look like the sluggish teenager she’d pictured talking to on the phone, but he wasn’t talking to any customers at the moment. She took the opportunity to grab him while he was free and circled the bar to meet him.

“Excuse me,” she said as he turned again to arrange glassware on a shelf behind the bar. “I’m looking for someone.”

The man turned around swiftly to meet her gaze. He certainly didn’t look dangerous or threatening enough to incite suspicion, but he also looked quite older than the individual she had spoken to on the phone. Instead she pursed her lips and said quickly, “I spoke to someone named Dwyer over the phone who said you found my son outside your restaurant. Um...are you...?”

“Oh no,” the man said, his voice heavily accented. Corrin realized immediately the man she was speaking to wasn’t the teen she’d spoken to on the phone. Before she could become panic-stricken, he continued, “You spoke to my son, Dwyer. You’re to pick up Kana, correct?”

“Yes!” she replied breathlessly, hope returning to her eyes. “I did! I would have been here earlier, but the traffic was awful. I’m so sorry, but when I came in, I didn’t see him and…”

The woman realized very quickly that she was babbling in her anxious state and forced herself to calm down as best she could. She continued with more poise, “I’m sorry for not introducing myself. I’m Kana’s mother, Corrin. I work at the Vallite City Hall on the corner of 6th and 25th street.”

“Ah, I see,” the man replied with a smile. “My son is watching him right now in the back. Your boy was a little teary, so we thought it would be better for him to calm down somewhere with less noise and people.”

“Oh, thank you,” Corrin said, practically beside herself with gratefulness. Before she could continue, she heard the sound of a door click open and saw her son standing in the doorway to the café’s back area. His eyes were still a little puffy from crying, but otherwise he looked perfectly fine.

“Mama!” he cried gleefully. The boy bolted so fast across the restaurant that he managed to cross the wide threshold between them in only a few steps. Corrin threw her arms open and pulled him into a tight hug, picking him up and twirling him about. The act caused Kana to squeal with delight. The woman dotted his face with kisses and held him close to her heart, which was still racing from anxiety.

“Kana, I’m so glad you’re oaky,” she said, using her free hand to push down some locks of hair that were standing up after his aerial rendezvous. “I was so worried.”

“I’m sorry,” Kana said, still holding his mom tightly even after she went to place him back on the ground. “I got lost and tried to find my way home. I should have called you sooner.”

“No, it’s my fault,” Corrin said sincerely as she cupped her son’s face. “We should have practiced the route more. We’ll find a way to get you to and from school where you can’t get lost, okay?”

“Okay,” the boy said with a nod. “I’d like that.”

As the mother and son duo reconciled, Dwyer went into the back to grab Kana’s backpack from where they’d waited in the back. The teen walked up silently and placed the bag beside Kana and Corrin, and stepped back just as carefully as if not to disturb them. The man behind the counter gave his son a thankful nod and went back to polishing glasses nonchalantly.

“Thank you so much,” Corrin said again as she reached out to take Kana’s bag and slip it onto his shoulders. “I can’t thank you both enough.”

“It was our pleasure,” Dwyer said with a smothered yawn. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Thank you, Dwyer,” Corrin said. She then turned her attention to the slightly older man behind the counter who had said he was Dwyer’s father. “And thank you too…um…”

“Jakob,” the man replied kindly with a tip of the head. Although his tone was polite, there seemed to be an air of forced disinterest around him now that Kana was safe with his mother. It was as if he was trying way too hard to seem modest. “Please don’t thank me. My son did all the work. I’m just happy he’s okay.”

Kana made a face at Jakob’s indifference. “Mama, Jakob also gave me a lot of tissues and told me about the buses around here so I wouldn’t get lost again.”

Jakob blushed a little bit at the boy’s statement and went back to doing some kind of busy work behind the counter. Even if Jakob didn’t return Corrin’s thankful stare, he certainly noted it.

“That’s not all,” Kana said cheerfully. “Dwyer said he goes to high school right down the block from me! He knows the area really well too.”

“He does?” Corrin asked with a laugh. “What a coincidence. Maybe we’ll have to stop in after school for some snacks soon.”

“Yay!” Kana said, throwing his fists up into the air as she danced around in circles.

“Well, if you both come back, your next order will be on the house,” Jakob replied in response to Kana’s excitement. It seemed that even his cold, semi-introverted nature wasn’t exempt from Kana’s charm. “My son and I run this place, so you’re both always welcome.”

Corrin gave him an appreciative look. Even after all the trouble she must have caused them, they were still kind enough to welcome her back. The woman made a secret promise to come back after her next paycheck and get a sizable order of food from them. They deserved to be thanked somehow, in her mind.

“Thank you, Jakob” Corrin said with a nod as she softly opened the café door. She hadn’t noticed before due to her panicked state, but he was certainly very attractive. While his handsomeness had registered at the time, she certainly didn’t dwell on it.

Now as he returned her grin and watched her exit the café, she thought that perhaps there would be a reason besides sweets and desserts to return to the quirky little café.

With a lovely smile, she replied, “I’ll remember that.”

[To be continued]

Who was Kana’s father, you ask? Whoever you want it to be. I don’t want to scrutinize anyone’s favorite Fates pairings, so Corrin’s former spouse can be anyone you like (or don’t.)

I also imagine here that Kana’s has Corrin’s hair color and Dwyer has Jakob’s.

#jokamu #jakob #corrin #fates #modern au #cornkob #red thread of fate #fire emblem fates #joker #kamui

[21tailsofwoe]

“In Another Life” | NaruSaku

In which Sakura’s character becomes self aware.

Pairing: Naruto Uzumaki x Sakura Haruno

A/N: I am extremely new to fanfiction (fanfiction based on existing works, that is) so I don’t really know what I’m doing here and I don’t know the fanfic terminologies so I don’t know what to tell you. It’s a bit angst-y, I guess?

Excuse the typos. I rarely proof read.

Also, if you ship ss or nh along with ns, don’t read this k thx

Words: 2,490

H E R

As kids, when he used to hint at his crush for me, I would shrug it off. Maybe because I found him unbearable, and frankly, really annoying. Maybe because I was just a naïve, young girl, engrossed in her own fantasies and dreams, unaware of how much this world had in store for me.

Gradually, I learned that there was more to him than just silly pranks and loud words; there was a lot more to him. His dream seemed so stupid and unrealistic at first. Surely, a loud-mouthed kid like him, how could he ever achieve such an impossible feat? But slowly, he started to prove me wrong. His otherwise annoying behaviour grew on me. I saw that there was more to his pointless declarations. He wanted to be recognised and respected. He wanted to show everyone that he was not the troublesome kid they made him out to be. He wanted to be treated like somebody.

He was so stubborn, but his stubbornness brought about change, change that I witnessed with my own eyes which would bring about hope wherever he went. It made me believe in improvement. I was so unsure of myself, of what I wanted to be. He made me believe in myself. I couldn't help but believe in him too.

However, I liked this other boy, the boy with a dreadful past and hatred in his heart. The boy who happened to be in our team. At first it was a young girl's silly crush on the dreamy, ‘mysterious’ boy, but then I started to see that this boy had so much more hidden deep within him, something that scared me. I wanted to reach out, to help him. My so called 'love' had been selfish at one point, I admit. But when he left me, when he left his home, I could only cry and beg him to stay, but to no avail.

And then he came along. "The promise of a lifetime," he called it. He said he would bring our friend back, no matter what it took. And I couldn't help but cry and beg again, so that he could bring our friend back. Perhaps still love me back then, or somewhere that crush still existed within him. Whatever it was, he suppressed it, never forcing it onto me.

Sadly, he couldn't keep that promise. In fact, it nearly got him killed. And at that moment, I realised that I could've lost him too, that my inability to do anything useful could've ruined everything.

And so I made a promise too; I promised that I would grow stronger so that he doesn't have to hurt himself anymore. Not alone, at least. We would save our friend together.

We then went our separate ways, because we knew we had to grow stronger. There was a daunting challenge ahead of us and we had to prepare ourselves. He went for his training with his master, while I sought out my own.

During that period, amidst my harsh training, perhaps I had created this image of the boy I loved. How was he? Where was he? Was he safe? If not, would I be able to save him? These thoughts pulled me deeper into the an aberrant kind of love, for the false image of the boy who I hadn't seen in years.

Was that really love?

When the blond haired knucklehead came back from his training, I could see how much he had grown. He may have been the same knucklehead I knew, but in some ways, I could see that something had changed within him.  

He may have grown stronger, but so had I. I didn’t want to feel left behind anymore. When he saw my strength, my growth, I couldn't help but be amused at his awe. It was a surreal feeling, that feeling of acknowledgement. I knew I had trained hard. I knew I had become stronger than before. Even my master could tell how much I had grown. So why did his acknowledgement feel so . . . satisfying? Why was it his words that made me feel better?

Was that not love?

One day, I learned the truth; his truth. I learned of the monster that he carried within him. I learned of the threats it posed, I learned of why the elders hated him so much, and I understood how miserable his childhood had been for a crime he didn't even commit. A sense of protectiveness grew in me, the desire to help him and his dream.  

Couldn’t I have started loving him then?

And what about the time I finally met the boy I had loved since I was a young girl again? The boy had turned into something so sinister, so dark. He wasn't the boy we knew. He was someone who was way beyond reach, someone who could even kill me without batting an eye, not caring for his own teammates. How could I still have loved this new version of this person? Why did I keep holding on to my belief?

I wanted to love the boy who stood by me. The one who trusted in me no matter what, the one who admired me for who I was, the one who saved me countless number of times, the one who inspired me to grow and become a better person. The boy who cared deeply for me, and I for him. The boy who, in fact, had fallen in love with me.

So why couldn't I love him? What was holding me back? Was it that false image of love I had previously created for the person who had stopped caring for me? Or was this simply the desire to save my old teammate which was in the disguise of 'love'?

Meanwhile, we grew – my friend and I. We fought alongside, we learned so much, and understood even more. Even when he seemed to lose everything, he got back up. Even in during the war, he kept growing – as a person as well as a fighter.  

I was even faced with the threat of losing him, my true friend. I could've lost him forever, and it could all have ended right then and there. His dream would've been lost to the emptiness of death. My desperation was at its peak. My selfishness played its part, for the thought of losing him scared me deeply.

Was that desperation not love?

And I still continued to 'love' the monster that tried to kill me, that no longer felt the need of my presence. The monster that continued to demean me, put me down. I must have realised that the boy I once knew and loved was long gone, so was the false image that I had created.

So why couldn't I get over this so-called love? Was my desire to save him that strong?

It took time, but things may have started to get better. The monster we wanted to save from the darkness seemed to have slowly come into light. And right when we thought we finally got to him, he slipped away from our grasp almost immediately.

And yet again, I couldn't do anything but cry and beg him to stay.  

Could that be called love in any shape or form?

It wasn't my love that saved this person, it was his persistence, his struggle to help his friend, his never-ending dedication towards his friend, his resolve to bring him back from the terrible path this friend had chosen. It wasn't me. I couldn't help him keep his promise.

I couldn't even keep mine.  

All that mattered in the end was that they both were safe, and the monster was cured of his hatred. We got our teammate back, our happiness. "The promise of a lifetime" was kept, and the man I loved since I was a little girl was brought back to me, the man who apparently had learned to love me too. The ‘love’ I had spend years giving to him, was finally returned.

I should be happy, right?

So why am I not content? Why does it feel like something is missing? Why does it feel like someone is missing?  

In other words: why couldn't I move on?

And here I stand, married to the man I loved all my life. My daughter holds onto me with her tiny hands, while my husband is out there, protecting the village. The husband I haven't seen since the birth of my child -- our child. Our daughter is the proof of our love now. She's holding our family together while he is out there. Our feelings are connected through this very child, or so it seems.

As I look at the family before me, celebrating the birth of their second child, a beautiful baby girl with her father's beautiful blue eyes, I can't help but feel a slight ache in my chest. The baby sleeps solemnly in her mother's arms, while her elder brother who is just a few months older than my daughter, peers over at his new-born sister from over his father's shoulder.

The father -- the hero of the village, the hero who saved the world -- has grown into a fine young man right before my eyes. He finally has a family, aside from our team. A family linked by blood and not just love, something he had been craving for since he was a kid. I should be happy for him.

So why do I feel so incomplete?

He's married to the woman he loves and has two beautiful children now. He is happy. So am I. I have a family of my own too.

"Wanna hold her?" He asks me, breaking me out of my thoughts. When I just give a dazed expression in response, he points to the new born baby held in the arms of his wife, who is on the hospital bed in a state of exhausted bliss.

"No, that's okay," I say. "I am not that good with babies." An extremely ridiculous lie.

He laughs. "You're a doctor! And a mother. How can you not be good with babies?"

Something about his laugh warms my heart. I push the feeling away and shake my head. "No, I think she should be with you for now."

"Come on, just for a little while." He cracks a grin, shaking a finger at me. "I know you want to."

I stiffen and unknowingly tighten my hold on my daughter. "I have to go," I suddenly blurt out.

His face falls. "What?"

"You just got here," his wife protests.

I realise how strange I must've sounded. "It's just that my shift starts early today," I lie. Why am I lying? "I completely forgot about it, and now I'm late."

"Oh," he says as he stands up, disappointment clearly hinted in his voice. "Okay. Want me to come with you?"

Yes. "No, please. You have to stay here," I say, waving him off. "You two, congratulations!" I smile at them, trying to make it seem as genuine as possible even with the ache in my heart growing.

"Thank you!" His wife smiles in return.

"Thank you," he says in a low voice, but there is no hint of the happiness he previously displayed. His eyes reflect his worry. Damn it, he has always been able to see through me. "You're sure you're okay?"

"Of course, you dummy!" I laugh. "I'll be back tomorrow. You better treat me big."

He doesn't reply.

Not wanting to prolong this, I look down at my daughter. "Come on, let's go." She nods.

As soon as I step out of the room and close the door behind me, my tears finally force their way out. I try to blink them away, but to no avail. I pick my daughter up in my arms and rush down the hallway. She repeatedly asks me what is wrong, but I just sob in response because I know the answer to her question.

The truth is: somewhere deep within, I love him. I have for a while now. In fact, I've loved him for a long time. I have wanted to be with him, all this time. I want to be with him, even now. I should've been the one with him, in that room, holding our child.

So why am I out here? What went wrong? Why have we turned out like this? Why aren't we together like we were meant to be?

Why can't I love him?

H I M

He stares at the door for some time, not saying anything and remaining still. It was as though something had stirred deep within him, something he couldn't understand. Her sudden change in behaviour worried him. Something clearly bothered her and he couldn't really tell.

Or could he?

"What's wrong?" His wife asks. "Something the matter?"

"No, it's nothing," he blurts out. He turns around and smiles, only to have her furrow her brows in worry.

"Then why are you crying?" she asks.

He stills. "Wh-what. . ." He runs his palm down his left cheek and feels a tear streaming down. That's strange, he thinks. Why am I crying?

At that moment, the pain in his chest starts to grow, as an unnamed emotion engulfs him, something he can't understand. The tears don't stop as he faces away from his wife. "I must be really happy. . ." He mumbles.

But he knows that it's not true. On the contrary, it's sadness that has brought him to tears. And he doesn't know why.

He turns to face the door, and slowly paces towards it. "I'll be back," he assures as he pushes on the door handle.

His wife nods, still concerned. "Okay. Take your time."

He closes the door behind him and stares down the hallway, the way his friend went. The aberrant tears continue to force their way out. A familiar feeling reaches out to him, a feeling he had suppressed for so long. . .      

"Perhaps in another life. . .Sakura-chan,” he quietly says to himself.

#narusaku #narusaku fanfiction #narusaku fanfic #narusaku fic #sakunaru #my fanfic #metalks #my writing

[melodymemorandums]

Planning For Coerthas

Jigumundo Darkbore sits behind his desk, behind a huge stack of book and papers, examining his glasses through squinted eyes. He'd scratch his cheek, thinking intensely, and reaching for a quill to note something down.

Melody Adagio enters none-too-quietly, baby Aria was strapped to her back wiggling and 'talking' up a storm.  She rounded the corner holding a small tray which held a hot kettle, two cups and a tray of crackers, cheeses and grapes. "Hello-OW- Aria, not Mommy's hair!" -throat clears- "Hello, Papa, we've come to see you!" Jigumundo Darkbore: "Huh." He peeked from behind his usual desk mess, squinting his eyes even harder, recognizing the voices. Too bad the figures were shapeless blobs... "Well, look at you, Mama and Aria... I hope."

Melody Adagio: "Is that sarcasm I hear?" she continues into the room towards the desk to see him squinting at them.  "Oh dear, you were being literal."

Jigumundo Darkbore nodded with a pinch of bitterness pointing at his glasses being cracked before he'd slide them on his nose. "Yes. Yes I was. I've spend hours trying to find a way to fix my glasses... I'm afraid I might have to get myself a new pair. Again." He sighed deeply, displeased with the concept of spending money. "This was my favorite pair..." Melody Adagio frowns as she places the goodie tray carefully onto the table. "Hmm, I liked that pair on you too." Aria made an appropriate sounding disappointed noise, or it could have been disapproving.  Who knows, it's hard to tell with babies. Melody Adagio : "You want me to take a turn at it?" she asked as she fixed them some tea. Jigumundo Darkbore shrugged bouncing off his chair, making his way to Mel. "Sure. Although I don't know what you will do... one of the lenses is broken." He took off his glasses handing it to his beloved, trading the specs for a baby.

Melody Adagio maneuvered to help get Aria out of her carrier. "Oh, well that makes it harder doesn't it..." she takes the specs and assessed the damage with her own, currently better sight.

Jigumundo Darkbore: "Since we came back I spent every evening researching a spell that would fix them. Neither Thaumaturgy or Conjuring has a solution." He sighed. "All my research for nothing..." He'd hang his head dramatically in front of Mel-blob. Melody Adagio: "That's a true shame.  One would think, with so much magick in this land there would be something for this situation.  Though I suppose that's how optometrists make their gil." she patted Jig's cheek lightly. Jigumundo Darkbore: "I need to find a reliable Machinist to get me out of this one..." It almost feels like he completely missed the point . Professor sighed, taking his glasses back, putting them where they belong. "You look... favorable today, dear." Melody Adagio raised an eyebrow at him.  "I-uh...Thank you?" she blushed the tiniest bit. Aria had been looking at Jig and quietly baby talking to herself, but when his glasses came back she took her chance to grab at them. "A-Bah!" she cried joyfully. Jigumundo Darkbore got taken by surprise. Caught completely off guard by the baby got his frames snagged from his face. "Gah! Oh... Aria. Glasses are not for babies!"

Melody Adagio chuckled a little.  "She's too much." she turned back to the tea and finished the preparations.  "So, aside from broken spectacles, how has your day been?  Anything new?"

Jigumundo Darkbore: "Quite a few things in fact. I have an interesting project in mind. At least proves to be challenging enough to keep me interested."

Melody Adagio nodded and left his cup on the tray so he could take it when it was wanted.  She took her own and settled on the couch beside them, letting out a deep breath of relaxation.  "So then tell me about it?  What sort of excitement do you have in mind?" she grins, munching a cheese cracker she'd snagged from the tray.

Jigumundo Darkbore would probably gesture energetically but his hands were full of baby. "So... what if I would find a way to go on adventures... from the safety of my office!" His words were worthy of a madman but everybody knew that in his case... it's not necessarily far from the truth. Yet... as mad as his ideas sometimes are, they usually work.

Melody Adagio quirked her head and stopped chewing.  "M-what you mean?" she swallowed.  "Why wouldn't you leave your office?"

Jigumundo Darkbore: "I don't know... in case some expeditions would prove to be too dangerous?"

Melody Adagio still looked confused.  "But how? I still don't understand." she took a sip of her tea to wash down the cracker.  "I'm very curious."

Jigumundo Darkbore: "Imagine another me..."( Everybody run!) "...but mechanical."

Melody Adagio took a pause..."I think one of you is just the right amount for everyone, dear." she obviously still needed more explanation. "Are you telling me you're big idea is a mechanized clone of yourself?"

Jigumundo Darkbore: "More like a puppet. Yes. Let's say... a mammet that I'd be able to control."

Melody Adagio took another sip of tea. "I see...And would this mammet also be able to wield magic for you as well?"

Jigumundo Darkbore: "No." He'd shake his head. "Instead I would arm him with a selection of weapons and gadgets to... substitute for my magic." He'd pause for a bit, bouncing little Aria a few times in his arms, fixing her position. "Obviously it'll be physically stronger than me which I intend to utilize as well."

Melody Adagio: "But..." she scrunched her eyebrows. "What makes you want to hide in your office while your mammet handles all the fun?" it was her turn to miss the point now.  "This seems a little toward the extreme..."

Jigumundo Darkbore: "It's for extreme cases. And if I won't be physically able to do it. I'm just considering different scenarios." He shrugged again. "Besides nobody has ever something like that. Not that I know of it. That would be some breakthrough research."

Melody Adagio quirked her head, then gave a small nod in agreement.  "I guess you're right.  Something like that could be very useful if it works right." she leans back a little farther.  "Careful though, you may accidentally start a trend."

Jigumundo Darkbore: "At least I would get old and die knowing that I did something meaningful." He'd clear his throat. "Aside from the obvious, which is parts and all the utilities, I miss one crucial thing to make it possible..."

Melody Adagio: "You know you're not old yet, right?" she smirked from behind her teacup.

Jigumundo Darkbore: "I know. But it's also healthy to think about the future!" He'd raise his finger finally reaching for his cup and taking a sip. "Back on track though... We're going to take a trip to Dravania."

Melody Adagio nearly spit her tea back into her cup. "We-t-Dravania?" she blinked.  "What in the name of the Twelve do you need there?"

Jigumundo Darkbore: "Have you ever heard of The Great Gubal Library?" He'd walk towards the table to look over the globe.

Melody Adagio tapped her chin.  "I think I'd heard it mentioned around town a few times?  Isn't it an old Sharlayan relic of a building, though?" she hopped off the couch to join him at the globe.

Jigumundo Darkbore: "Which holds an immense collection of tomes and scrolls. Nearly infinite storage of data and knowledge.  Including some Allagan tomes..."

Melody Adagio: "Aaah, I get it." she smiles. "So first you'd need to know exactly how to make a mammet, then.  I'm a little surprised you don't know how to do that yet since you can rebuild yourself the walking magitek armor..." she smiles at Jig.

Jigumundo Darkbore: "Believe it or not but Mammets are a little bit more intricate than a crude walking tank..." A duh, so obvious Melody, go educate yourself, geez.

Melody Adagio: Gives him a look of annoyance "Sooo sorry, Professor.  I suppose I've simply no knowledge whatsoever as to mechanical ANYTHING." she frowned at him.

Jigumundo Darkbore leaned in to peck her cheek. "Not your fault." He cleared his throat again, pushing the glasses further up his nose. "Building a mammet is going to be the easiest part of it... controlling it over long distances is a whole different thing."

Jigumundo Darkbore: "I'm hoping to find my answers there."

Melody Adagio 's frown faded after his little kiss.  "True. I wonder how you would manage that.  Maybe a sort of remote signal?"

Jigumundo Darkbore: "Perhaps. Or by sending Aether over long distance... I don't know yet.  We shall travel to Dravania through Ishgard. Perhaps we would find some help on our way."

Melody Adagio beamed with excitement at the thought of traveling to such a new place.  "What about this one, though?" she looked down at Aria in his arms. "Would you be okay bringing her with us?" she poked at her baby's chubby cheeks.

Jigumundo Darkbore: "Uh... I don't know. That might be tricky. This might be too dangerous for her." He pondered for a minute. "Wait. Isn't Marzia in Coerthas now? I remember you mentioning something."

Melody Adagio: "She's been trying to stay down here lately.  I think I finally talked her out of continuing her pointless search for Brio..." her eyes hooded a bit in sadness.  "But maybe she can at least join us for part of it.  Maybe like a guide of sorts." she looked back up with a grin.

Jigumundo Darkbore: "Excellent idea. And after that she would keep an eye on Aria while we explore Dravania. Land of the dragons is not a place for a child... not for now anyway."

Melody Adagio: "I'll try to convince her it's a good idea." she giggled at the thought of Mar trying to take care of Aria for an extended period of time.  "So, just the two of us would go you think? Or did you perhaps have others in mind to join us?"

Jigumundo Darkbore: "It might be too dangerous to go just the two of us. Even with my magic and your skills... We may need a skilled healer and somebody to do actual fighting if the need arises."

Melody Adagio: "Miss Tisharu may need some more time to let her eyes fully finish healing, but she's capable from what I understand.  Maybe we could ask her if she'd be up to it?"

Jigumundo Darkbore: "Preparations may take enough time for her to fully recover. If we're talking about Miss Tisharu, then we need to count Miss Leuvoix as well. She proved herself as a capable healer on our previous escapade. She'll be a fine addition to our expedition."

Jigumundo Darkbore: "...as much as difficult it is for me to admit." he places a finger on his chin, thinking. "I think I... owe her an apology..."

Melody Adagio: "Wait, what?  You mean you still haven't apologized for throwing her out a window?" she seems shocked.

Jigumundo Darkbore: "No. Why would I. It was her own fault..." He shrugged.

Melody Adagio  buries her face in disbelief.

Jigumundo Darkbore: "I owe her an apology for something different."

Jigumundo Darkbore: "That's not important though."

Melody Adagio looks at him oddly. Jigumundo Darkbore: "We have a lot of work to do!"

Melody Adagio looks annoyed with Jigumundo Darkbore.

Jigumundo Darkbore: "...what?"

Melody Adagio: "Can't say I care for when you don't tell me things..."

Jigumundo Darkbore: "I was a bit too strict with her if that really concerns you this much."

Melody Adagio raises an eyebrow and decides she'll just take his word for it.  "I see.  Good for you, then." She grins tauntingly at Jig.

Jigumundo Darkbore: "I don't understand how being excessively strict with somebody who didn't deserve that is good for me, but I'll let that slip..."

Melody Adagio rolled her eyes. "I meant for you apologizing and acknowledging a mistake you've made." she can't help but grin, then steps up and returns the peck on a cheek.

Jigumundo Darkbore: "Oh. All right then..." He returned the smile taking her hand. "Also... there's another thing I need in Coerthas, making it important to make a stop there."

Melody Adagio: "It's going to be a busy trip, then, isn't it?"

Jigumundo Darkbore: "Definitely. I abandoned my Magitek  Reaper in Coerthas. I'm going to need it's parts. So there's that."

Melody Adagio: "Huh, I had been wondering where you've been hiding it.  Makes sense."

Jigumundo Darkbore: "Uh... hiding is a bit of a stretch..."

Melody Adagio: "Do I need to be worried?"

Jigumundo Darkbore: "Uhm... No?" He bared his teeth in a troubled grin.

Melody Adagio: "It's not buried in a collapsed cave or something ridiculous like that....is it?"

Jigumundo Darkbore keeps grinning. A drop of sweat just slid down his forehead.

Melody Adagio sighs despondently

Jigumundo Darkbore: "It's not my fault!"

Jigumundo Darkbore: "...fine it is. A little bit."

Jigumundo Darkbore: "But not entirely!"

Melody Adagio: "I suppose we'd better bring some sturdy shovels."

Jigumundo Darkbore: "Heheh.... perhaps. LET US WASTE NO TIME!"

Jigumundo Darkbore walks a few steps towards the door, but stops and comes back really fast to hand Melody the baby. "Here. Hold her." And then he leaves.

Melody Adagio: "Uh...Jig?...JIG??!"

#ffxiv #balmung #roleplay #rplog #melody adagio #jigumundo darkbore #lalafell #lala baby #adorable

[iamanhonestmess]

When Darkness Falls, a Haylijah fanfiction

Link to the story on FF in case you missed the first few chapters or want to read ahead (reviews are always appreciated); https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12125374/1/When-Darkness-Falls

                                           Chapter 2 - Instant Trust

Hayley was left alone to her own devices for the rest of the night, and for that she was both relieved about and thankful for. Due to the feelings of anger and guilt she was experiencing because of Klaus and Elijah's actions (mainly Klaus' actions) and her own actions, being left alone had been a good thing. Hayley was never one to be able to handle herself under too much emotional pressure at once. Had anyone come to her throughout the night while her emotions were out of control, there was no doubt that she would've come clean about what she did.

If the truth were to come out too quick, Hayley had an inkling she would not be getting out of this situation alive. That fact was the one thing that Hayley was afraid of the most. She needed to keep her emotions in check or else she would wind up signing her own death wish and she didn't want to do that. Hayley's main priority was to keep her mouth shut and not admit her guilt before her parents gave the Mikaelson's their sister back so she could go home.

Her parents would do the right thing. Right? They would surrender in this stupid vampire and werewolf war to ensure her getting out of this alive, wouldn't they? It was a good thing that Hayley was already lying down somewhere comfy. Hayley's uncertainty about what the correct answers to those questions were made her feel faint. Her not knowing what was more important to her parents, her safety or winning a stupid and pointless war, was completely screwed up. Although, considering that her parents still wanted her to marry Oliver, she wouldn't be surprised if winning was the more important thing to them. Hayley would be disappointed if that turned out to be the case, but she would not be surprised about it.

The sound of a light knock on the door broke Hayley from her thoughts.

"Come in," Hayley said in a dull tone of voice, hoping it conveyed that she was still not in a good mood from the day before.

She already knew that Elijah stood on the other side of the door. The fact that the person on the other side of the knocked instead of barging in was the clue that showed the person's identity. Moments later, the door opened and Elijah walked in carrying a tray of food, confirming that Hayley was right.

Hayley still felt the after effects of her guilt and anger consuming her after what had transpired the night before. She still wasn't in a mood for company. But something told her she had little choice in the matter in that moment.

"I hope you don't mind pancakes, eggs, and orange juice," Elijah said, walking over to the bed.

For a second, Hayley was curious where the food had come from and was going to ask about it. But then she remembered that one of the Mikaelson siblings was a witch and witches, since they were technically humans as well, needed to eat to survive. So she answered her own question and didn't need to ask it to Elijah after all.

"I'm not hungry," Hayley grumbled, rolling over and shoving her face into the pillow she was resting her head on.

The sheets moved slightly beside her as Elijah placed the tray down next to her.

She heard Elijah sigh.

"Don't be stubborn, Andrea..."

"It's Hayley," she said correcting him, her voice muffled by the fluffy pillow. "I prefer being called Hayley," she said as she turned back over to look up at him.

Elijah looked back at her with a quizzical expression gracing his face.

"Hayley is my middle name," Hayley told him, shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly. "Ever since I can remember, I've liked my middle name better and insist everyone call me Hayley instead of Andrea," she explained, becoming immediately confused by her own words.

Confusion took her over due to the lack of reasoning for why she was telling him this. Simply saying she preferred being called Hayley would have been enough. That was all she did for anyone in the past who called her Andrea instead of Hayley. But for some unknown reason, she wanted to tell Elijah this random piece of information. Never had she felt the need to tell anyone this. So why did she now?

"Duly noted." Elijah smiled. "Regardless, I'm willing to assume that you haven't eaten since yesterday."

Hayley's silence confirmed his assumption to be correct.

He gestured towards the tray. "You need to eat something."

Hayley was about to argue just as her stomach growled, stopping her before she could get a word out.

Elijah chuckled, no doubt having heard her stomach's much too loud protests.

"Fine," Hayley said as she reluctantly sat up, picking up the tray and moving it into her lap. "For future reference, someone owes me Chinese food."

"Why is that?" Elijah questioned her curiously.

Hayley grabbed the syrup bottle and popped the cap open, pouring it all over her pancakes and eggs before huffing and answering his question. "I was waiting for the Chinese food delivery guy when your jackass of a brother showed up at my door."

Elijah nodded in understanding. "That would explain why you opened the door for him as quick as you did."

Hayley rolled her eyes. "I'm surprised that he didn't just barge in considering he didn't need an invitation to enter my apartment."

"The spell he had our sister cast only allowed him uninvited access as long as you opened the door," Elijah informed her. "Even witches and their spells have limits as to what is too much."

She put the syrup bottle down and closed it, glancing up at Elijah to find him leaning against the dresser across from the bed. "How do you know all of this when you said that you had nothing to do with what happened?"

"My brother may go behind my back at times, but he rarely lies to my face when I confront him," Elijah answered with slight hesitation, as if he wasn't sure if he should even believe his answer or not.

Hayley picked up on Elijah's hesitation almost immediately. "Rarely being the keyword," she replied before taking a bite of the eggs to help settle her grumbling stomach.

Elijah nodded his head, agreeing with her.

An awkward silence fell between them as Hayley ate. It was weird for Hayley to eat in front of Elijah. Unlike her who had to eat something, he was a vampire that didn't have to eat unless he wanted to eat. Him standing there watching her eat without eating something also, so weird and awkward. Hayley made sure not to make eye contact with him the entire time because that would've made their current predicament even worse than it already was.

"Um... so is there by chance a phone around here that I can borrow?" Hayley asked once she finished eating everything on the plate, placing the tray next to her on the bed. "I need to make an important call."

Elijah glanced at her with an expression on his face that more or less meant, "Are you serious?"

Hayley rolled her eyes, throwing the blanket off of her and swinging her legs over the side of the bed. "Do not look at me like that. You said you didn't agree with kidnapping me so loaning me a phone would help prove that," she said, crossing her arms. "You know, despite the fact you are keeping me here," she added as an afterthought, standing up, hoping she could talk him into letting her use a phone.

"I do not think..." Elijah said before pausing, looking away from her for a moment.

Hayley sighed and spoke up before he talked again to finish his sentence. "I will only call my work and fake the flu so I don't lose my job."

She suddenly realized she was going to have to pull out the pity card to get her hands on a phone.

"If I don't call in sick to work, I will lose my job. If I lose my job, then I won't have any income. That means I won't be able to pay my rent, and I will end up being forced to move back to the bayou." Hayley sighed again, putting on the best pouty face she could muster. "I honestly don't want to move back to the bayou until I have absolutely no choice in the matter," she admitted. "Please, Elijah. You can listen in on the call if you don't trust me."

Surprise coursed through Hayley's entire being when she noticed the change of Elijah's demeanor. The realization that she was getting through to him by playing the pity card was a crazy one. Never in a million years would she have ever thought that she could do such a thing. A thousand year old vampire feeling sorry for her? Due to what her parents had always said, Hayley had been under the impression that most vampires only cared about themselves. But with how Elijah had been acting towards her in the past 12 hours, he was consistently proving her parents wrong.

"I pride myself in being able to read people well." Elijah spoke in a confident tone that suited him perfectly, pulling his cell phone from his front pocket and holding it out to her. "I trust you to do as you said you will."

Through her surprise, reaching for the phone and taking hold of it. Hayley managed a simple, "Thank you."

"I will leave you to make your call. I will return in a few minutes," Elijah said, picking up the food tray from the bed before turning and walking out of the room.

Her mouth gaping, Hayley watched him leave. Having only known her for 12 hours, give or take, he trusted her. Was this just a ploy to make sure that she continued to trust him? Or was he genuinely trusting her to make the call she said she was going to make? Why was Elijah so different than what she expected all vampires to be? Either Elijah was a good actor and vampires truly were as Hayley grew up thinking they were (evil, lying, manipulative, bloodsucking monsters), or her parents were the best liars on the planet.

Hayley was tempted to call for help due to her sudden access to a phone. She quickly decided against it due to the phone having a call log; at least that is what she told herself. The last thing Hayley wanted was to have the only person who was being civil towards her suddenly turn on her due to her blatant lie. Hayley would never admit it out loud, but Elijah giving her his phone and then leaving her alone to make her call because he trusted her played a bigger part in her not calling for help than the call log did.

After pressing the numbers on the phone's keypad, Hayley called her work and faked the flu just as she had assured Elijah she would.

                                               ~WhenDarknessFalls~

When Elijah returned not too long later just as he said he would, Hayley was in the midst of making the bed. If she were at her own apartment, the bed would've stayed a mess; but she wasn't and because of that this bed was getting made. Hayley wasn't sure why she even cared to make the bed, considering her current predicament, she had no reason for doing it. Then again, it gave her something to do other than sit around in the room she was being held captive in doing nothing.

"Thank you again for letting me borrow your phone," Hayley said, smiling briefly at him when she handed him his phone back. "My job is now safe for at least a week or so considering I have an inkling that this flu bug will be one of those week long ones."

Elijah smiled back at her. "You're welcome."

"Not to bother you with another request so soon after the first one, but is there any chance I can get a change of clothes?" Hayley questioned, looking down at the clothes she currently wore.

Well, she had showered the day before and she hadn't done anything between then and now that would make her dirty and/or sweaty. She'd probably be able to get away with wearing the same clothes again. They were still technically clean.

"Or at least a shower?" She said that as more of a suggestion than a question. "I can wear these clothes at least one more time."

Elijah nodded his head towards the ensuite bathroom. "You can shower in there," he told her.

That was, without a doubt, better than only being confined to one room.

"Thank..."

She was almost done thanking him when his next words had the rest of her sentence abruptly going back down her throat.

"There should be towels in the bathroom closet. And Rebekah should have shampoo and other things in there for you to use."

"This is Rebekah's room?" Hayley asked, wondering if her ears were playing tricks on her.

Elijah nodded his head, a sad expression gracing his facial features. "This is the only free room in the compound."

Hayley bit the side of her cheek, trying to keep her sudden panic at bay.

"Oh, god! This is Rebekah's room. I am in Rebekah's room," Hayley thought to herself, an internal panic happening.

How had she not realized it before now? Probably because she hadn't been looking around inspecting the room. But still, oh god. This was bad, so bad. The guilt of what Hayley had done, the part she had knowingly and stupidly played in all of this, consumed her once again.

Hayley suddenly felt like all the air in the room had been sucked out of it. She couldn't breathe, she was sure that she was suffocating, and she was definitely hyperventilating. But she couldn't let on about it because then Elijah would get suspicious. This was another one of those emotional pressure times for her. If Elijah got suspicious and asked the wrong question at the right time, he surely wouldn't be wanting to protect her anymore.

Managing to compose herself for a bit longer, Hayley flashed Elijah a quick smile.

Before leaving the room, Elijah turned back to give her the best news she had heard all morning. "Before I forget, there is one other thing. Due to the fact you are spelled to not be able to leave the compound on your own, you are free to roam wherever you please."

With that Elijah turned back and left, closing the door behind him.

A wave of sudden relief took over Hayley. Oh, yes, thank God. Hayley didn't have to think twice about it, she would take full advantage of the luxury that Elijah gave her every second she could. Not being confined to Rebekah's room where her guilt would now consume her every time she stayed in there would be a good for her.

Hayley smiled to herself on her way to the bathroom.

She might be able to survive this situation long enough that she can go home after all. That is as long as her guilt didn't get to her first and cause her to make this situation worse than it already was. She sure hoped that would not be the case.

"Please do the right thing mom and dad," she thought to herself as she closed the bathroom door behind her and wasted no time getting ready for her shower.

#haylijah #haylijah fanfiction #writing #when darkness falls #my writing

[click2watch]

Violent Delights Lead to Violent Ends: Rebuilding After the Crypto Crash

Dovey Wan is a founding partner of Primitive Ventures, a global venture investment firm with a focus on blockchain. You can follow her on Twitter at @doveywan. 

The following is an exclusive contribution to CoinDesk’s 2018 Year in Review. 

While emerging assets are always turbulent, 2018 has been an especially violent year for the crypto markets.

Many investors who entered during the bull market of 2017 got badly burned during this year’s prolonged crash because they were deluded into believing that market prices accurately reflected underlying value. However, this should not be taken to mean that crypto as an industry is doing poorly.

There are, in fact, two facets to the blockchain industry: the investment side and the development side.

Unlike the traditional financial market where we usually tend to have a clear expectation guidance and consensus around valuation models that can align the two, in crypto we have experienced a significant disconnect between investors and developers due to the distorting effect of hype on market prices and an information asymmetry in regards to actual development.

So, while the bloodshed in the markets we’ve seen in 2018 is likely to continue into 2019, cryptocurrencies are actually making significant progress on the technology development front. This next year will be painful to force us to step out of the bubble, learn the lesson and do a reality check.

Still, a healthy consolidation and the development of fundamentals will lead to eventual prosperity.

We didn’t see another manic gold rush on the internet after the dot.com bubble, but the internet eventually ate the world

In the Market

In the past two months, I’ve had many hours of conversation with key players in all sectors of the industry, including exchanges, traders, miners, founders, primary market investors and regulators.

My conclusions follow regarding why 2019 will be the year our violent delights reach their violent ends.

Far too many projects raised far too much money, often at outrageous valuations in the hundreds of millions. Even zcash, a relatively mature project that is seeing significant growth, is now trading at a ~300 million market cap (fully diluted $1.2 billion). And yet, there were projects with less than six months of development which raised at a valuation on par with zcash’s.

A proper valuation model is missing, investments are largely “FOMOmental” instead of fundamental.

Additionally, many of these high-profile projects are set to launch their mainnets in 2019, and most fail to meet expectations. The underwhelming adoption they face will be a further bear signal to the market that the “real adoption” investors had been waiting for won’t arrive in time to bail them out.

The organic community is tiny, developers are disappointed by the infrastructure and tooling and many investors will cut their losses and sell when they no longer believe “only the sky is the limit.”

Our failure in managing expectations well will set alternative cryptocurrencies up for a major correction, as the market is also highly correlated with BTC’s price. Hashrate and difficulty is a trailing indicator of price and will in return influence supply – for the first time since 2011, the bitcoin mining hashrate has significantly decreased with massive miners scaling back.

Many miners disassembled their mining operations entirely, because prices have fallen so much that bitcoin isn’t even worth the marginal cost to mine it. A big part of what landed us in this situation is the “hash rate bubble” of 2017, during which many miners overextended their mining operations under the mistaken assumption that the price of bitcoin would surely rise in the short term.

Miners who used to hold their coins may be forced to sell, sending the price of the coins spiraling further downwards. A lesser-known factor that will affect prices over the next few quarters is the fact that many funds that popped up in Asia from late 2017 to early 2018 are on a one year cycle (6 + 6 month terms). This means that they’ll reach the end of their term and must liquidate.

Many western funds are on monthly redemption terms, but they also face panic redemption from LPs.

On Development

When I told my friends that Eric Melzter and myself were leaving our positions at large funds in order to strike out on our own with Primitive Ventures, many asked us “Why now in such a brutal market?” Our answer is that it’s in fact a fantastic time to start a fund.

Although temporary market trends may be brutal, that very condition creates the opportunity for extraordinary returns for anyone who can invests in truly valuable work while it is still massively undervalued by a spooked market. It may be the worst of times for the markets, but it is the best of times for real development.

During the bull run of 2017 and early 2018, there was too much noise in the crypto space. Projects raised tens of millions even before what would normally be a Series A, and became slow, distracted, and unmotivated. Further, even quality teams were forced to compete in the game of token prices and had to divert a significant amount of their time and money toward keeping token price up and investors satiated.

In this current colder climate, those who remain are truly committed, and they no longer feel as much pressure to issue pointless tokens that will only cause friction. It is more possible for a blockchain product to gain organic adoption now that investors won’t be confusing popularity with real usage.

We are beginning to see fairer distribution models with real tech backing, such as Grin and Raven, which have attracted a dedicated community even without offering an opportunity to invest in a pre-sale or pre-mine. We are also observing the products of academic research being implemented in real-world settings, such as the integration of bulletproofs into Monero, the Sapling upgrade for zcash, and the Bitcoin_NG implementation in Aeternity as a part of their recent Roma launch.

We have seen the emphasis return to real developer usability instead of chasing vanity metrics such as transactions per second, and native use case discovery rather than endless discussions surrounding on-chain governance.

The non-technical development of the crypto industry is also by no means in hibernation during this winter. We have seen much activity amongst various jurisdictions hoping to become the “crypto capital” of the world and attract the talent, capital and enterprise that will gain them a share in an industry that could soon be worth many trillions.

Silicon Valley’s dominance in previous technologies won’t necessarily carry over to crypto since it’s crypto ecosystem is not complete. The miners who are a crucial component of the ecosystem are certainly not located in California, with its high electricity and operational expenses, and traders are also largely outside the U.S. due to its high taxes and strict regulations.

The distributed nature of crypto has fittingly allowed for the global distribution of the opportunities it creates.

What does this mean for 2019 and beyond? Crypto is set to radically upend the way we transact, privacy, ownership and many more things we can’t anticipate. In the near term, market conditions will be brutal, but that is actually helping nurture real value that is simply not reflected in the prices yet.

Investors and builders alike must not be blindsided by mistaking short-term market movements with real value. Now isn’t the time to put crypto on pause, but rather to take a much closer look at the projects addressing real needs in a way uniquely enabled by cryptocurrency, distributed ledger and blockchain technology.

In short, it’s the worst of times, but it’s also the best of times.

Have a hot take on 2018? CoinDesk is looking for contributors for its 2018 Year in Review. Email [email protected] to share your thoughts on the year in crypto that was. 

Steel shavings via Shutterstock

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