#both of those books have such good rich things happen after the accepted proposals but the major adaptations just totally gloss over that?? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

luci-in-trenchcoats · 3 years

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If I Fell For You (Part 12) - Not So Sweet Home

Summary: Jensen is fed up with his parents ignoring Y/N all day and when he gets a moment alone, blows up on them like never before. The reader sees how upset Jensen is over what’s happening and does her best to defend him while still trying to salvage a relationship with them...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x nanny!reader

Word Count: 6,200ish

Warnings: language, major family angst, mention of a dead parent

A/N: Eek! If you like angst this part is for you! Please enjoy and let me know what you think!

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It was late, the kids asleep in the guest bedroom, Jensen’s siblings and their families gone home for the evening aside from his brother. He made some half ass excuse about wanting to hang out with Jensen more but you knew he could sense what you did. Jensen was getting close to popping after a whole day of politeness on his part and his parents ignoring you on theirs.

Jensen was bouncing his knee like crazy as he sipped on his beer around a gas fire pit, suddenly stopping when you shifted in your seat.

“Maybe you ought to cool it with the alcohol tonight,” said his dad. Jensen set his empty bottle down on the grass and breathed deeply through his nose. “Your legs been-”

“Y/N, would you get me another beer please?” asked Jensen. You took the opportunity to get out of there, surprised when the back door opened quickly after you, his brother closing it behind him.

“I don’t think your parents like me very much,” you said, going to the fridge and pulling out a drink.

“I know,” he said, glancing out the dark window. “Jensen asked me to make sure you don’t come back out there.”

“He’s gonna go off on them.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m guessing,” he said with a sigh. “I have a feeling this isn’t going to go well. You guys can crash at my place if you want. We don’t have a guest room but we have an air mattress we can put in the family room.��

“You think it’ll be that bad?”

“Yeah,” he said quietly.

“Then why are we in here talking about this when we should be out there making sure he doesn’t say something he regrets in the morning.”

“You might hear things you can’t unhear,” he said.

“Right now my concern isn’t if my feelings get hurt. He’s really upset and I need him to be okay.”

“You know that’s why the rest of us like you, don’t you? You care about him, the kids. You’re in love with him.”

“Yes I am,” you said as he nodded.

“You call me if either of you ever need anything,” he said, going back to the door. You nodded and took a deep breath, following him outside and already hearing raised voices.

“She’s half your age, Jensen,” said his mom. “She was your nanny. Sweetie you have to know what’s going on here.”

“You’re getting played,” said his father, catching you walking out with Josh.

“She is not half my age. She’s thirty fucking years old! She’s a goddamn adult and been through more shit then both of you put together! She’s not after fucking money,” snapped Jensen who was already out of his seat.

“You’re engaged to the girl after five months!” said his father. “It took you years to propose the first time around!”

“Because I was a nervous kid that was away working constantly. I didn’t want to make Dee stay if it was gonna make her unhappy. I’m not afraid of how I feel anymore because I feel the same about her as I do Dee and I’m not wasting my time so I can stick to your socially acceptable schedule,” said Jensen. “I love her and she’s gonna be part of this family whether you like it or not. Deal with it.”

“You need a prenup,” said his dad.

“No I don’t!”

“Yes you do! You’ve known the girl for not even six months!”

“She’s not up to anything!” shouted Jensen.

“Son-”

“Have you ever lost your wife? Have you ever been in the car and almost die yourself while you watch her breathe for the last time? Where she’s hurt and you can’t do a thing to fix it? Have you ever had to tell your children their mother is dead and she’s not coming back? You have no idea, no idea, what that does to you, how much it hurts and how much it hurts when you’re still so fucked up and your parents start making comments behind closed doors about you and you have to pretend you’re better when you’re really not. When you don’t even care about yourself anymore, when you pretend for everyone’s sake so they stop treating you like a child, when you don’t know how to tell your kids it’s okay because it’s not. It’s not. Until you go through that, until you know how bad it hurts, don’t assume a damn thing about her. She’s my best friend and she makes me feel like my old self again. I laugh and smile and have fun and when I get scared or feel guilty or freak out she makes me feel better. I don’t give a fuck how old she is or what her job was. She’s kind and good and she deserves better than you two. Danneel’s parents like her. Jared’s parents like her. Her old foster dad’s family likes her. Our family likes her except for you two. Get your heads out of your asses or you can not even bother letting me know you exist anymore. I’m done with things hurting the women I care about. I couldn’t stop what happened to Dee but I can sure as hell keep Y/N away from the two of you,” said Jensen. He huffed and walked off, Josh running off after him.

“Well congratulations. You got your hooks in him deep, don’t you,” said his father. You rolled your eyes and his mother scoffed.

“You can take care of someone without treating them like a child you know. He’s an incredibly strong person. If you don’t like me fine. But don’t call him stupid or easily manipulated or imply that it’s wrong to know you love someone after only a certain amount of time. I love your son.”

“You love his money,” said his mom.

“I do just fine on my own,” you said, narrowing your eyes. “He’s staying at Josh’s house tonight. We’ll pick up the kids in the morning.”

“He’s overreacting. He’ll be fine in the morning,” said his dad. You crossed your arms and leaned your head back. “He’ll be fine.”

“You two don’t know a thing about me and you assume I want money because of my age and my former career. Don’t assume your son will be fine and get over it.”

“We’ve known him a lot longer than you have. He’ll get over it after a night’s rest.”

“You may have known him longer and I’m sure in some regards you do know him better but not the ones that matter. If you did, you would have seen how much he would have loved for the two of you to like me. I would have taken some respect and been happy because trust me, I get how this looks to everyone else. I understand you have fears and I’m not mad you have them. I’m mad you assume those are facts when all they are is a story you made up in your head you don’t want to change. He’s right, I’m not going anywhere. The difference between him and me though is that I’ll stay out here all damn night with the two of you until you get it through your heads that I’m not here to fuck him over. I love him. I don’t have family, not really. Things have always been screwed up for me pretty much until I met him and he didn’t have to say it for me to know that he was hoping he could share the two of you with me. Maybe I was hoping for that too. But right now I’ll take some goddamn respect and an apology to your son to start and we can go from there.”

“You’re gonna curse at us and expect an apology?” said his mom. “We know you took him when he was at his low and tricked him into trusting you so you could get exactly what you wanted.”

“You know what I want? What I’ve always wanted and somehow always seems to get ripped away? A family. A stupid fucking family. Being a nanny? That let me feel like part of the family. I could pretend I was like all of those people I worked for. Nice and normal and like people gave a shit. Some kindness and a family is all I’ve ever wanted. You two...you wouldn’t have survived a day in my childhood. In my adulthood with the shitty ex boyfriend and the crappy friends and I picked myself over all of them because my mom told me to stand up for myself. Even when she couldn’t be there and I wanted her to. So I stand up for myself and now I stand up for him and those three kids to anyone and I mean anyone, that hurts them. He’s my family and those kids are my family. I don’t know what you think I’m gonna do but I guarantee the only thing I will do is tell you two where to shove it and to leave him the hell alone.”

“Why would we believe anything you say? At all?” his dad asked. “It’s probably the same sad story you told him to get him on the line. I don’t buy it.”

“I have a million dollar book deal. I’ve worked rent free for a lot of rich people since I was eighteen years old. Do I sound like someone who needs his money?” you said. You put your hands on your hips and shook your head. “What is it? You want me to sign a prenup? I would but he doesn’t want one. He trusts me and for a guy that lost his wife and had to work through falling in love with another person, I respect that. He knows what he wants and he’s not wasting time. This is scary for him. It’s scary for me. But when Dee’s parents gave me open arms and kindness and their blessing, the last people I ever expected to disapprove were you two. If you’re going to stand there and keeping calling me a liar, I’m going to find your sons and I’m going take care of Jensen instead of wasting my time here.”

“We don’t disapprove of him moving on and marrying again,” said his mom as you turned to walk away.

“Could have fooled me,” you said.

“He’s going too fast and he doesn’t know you either, not well enough to make a decision like that,” said his dad. You turned around and smiled.

“He knows my favorite color. He knows what my favorite flavor of ice cream is. He knows why I have nightmares and he knows how to make me forget them in the first place. I’m sorry we aren’t doing things on your schedule but it’s his life. He can do whatever the fuck he wants with it, whether that’s me or somebody else. For the record, he knows me just fine. Oh and if this is how you plan on speaking to him again in the morning, I’ll pick up the kids myself.”

“We’re looking out for his best interest,” said his dad.

“No, you think you’re looking at his wallet for him. See money? People think that’s important and it is but best interest? It ain’t that shit,” you said as you started to leave.

“Well what do you assume his best interest is then?” said his mom.

“Treating him like an adult. He is smart and strong and the most emotionally healthy man I’ve ever met which considering all the fucked up shit he’s been through and felt the past year is really saying something. He’s your child but he’s not a child. He found someone he loves and all he wanted to do was share me with you. This was his worst nightmare and I couldn’t stop it. So if you’re not gonna even try with me, then I’m gonna protect him from you.”

“He doesn’t need protecting from us,” he said.

“You call him stupid and that he can’t take care of himself, that he can be fooled and that the person he thinks is his best friend really only wants him for his money. He knows none of those things are true but it’s what you said to him when you said that about me. For a man who went through what he did, it wasn’t mean. It was cruel. I’m gonna go fix what I can of your relationship with him because despite all that, I know you guys love each other and I’m not letting that get fucked up because you think whatever the hell you think about me.”

You stormed off around the house and found Josh’s truck still there but neither man in sight. You looked around and heard a sniffle, your head going up to the roof. You saw the lattice work on the side and climbed up, peeking your head up to spot the two of them sat on the roof.

“Hey,” you said quietly. Jensen wouldn’t look at you, Josh rubbing his back.

“Careful,” he said as you climbed up and slowly walked over. You took a seat on your bottom, spotting the window behind them. “That was my room. Jensen used to sneak out this way. I was always too nervous of getting caught to try myself. You landed the bad boy of the family.”

“Oh yeah, such a bad boy,” you said. You scooted closer on your butt to him, Jensen resting his head on his knees. “Hey. Before you even think about it don’t say you’re sorry.”

“I know,” he said. He took a deep breath but looked up, looking fairly normal aside from a slightly pink nose. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Nobody was,” said Josh. “I’ll give you guys a minute. I’ll be in my car when you’re ready.”

“You should go home,” said Jensen. “Staying in a different house won’t change anything.”

“That was kinda fucked up what they said.” Jensen raised an eyebrow and he shrugged. “I don’t always agree with them. If you guys want to stay, that’s your choice but I’m not going home without telling them what a mistake they’re making.”

“You don’t have to-”

“You’re my little brother and I like her. Even if I didn’t, they’re being assholes and she doesn’t deserve that. You don’t. Alright?”

Jensen nodded and Josh walked off to the lattice and climbed down while you scooted next to Jensen.

“You thought your siblings weren’t gonna like me,” you said.

“He’s a good person. He’s never told off our parents before so...I don’t know if I’m happy about that or not.”

“He’s a good big brother,” you said, wrapping your arms around him. “I don’t love you for your family though. I don’t care if your parents don’t like me. I’ll deal with it.”

“I wish you didn’t have to,” he said.

“I still like your dad so much better than mine,” you said.

“Yours is a monster to be fair.”

“Yeah, he is. Yours love you and I don’t agree with them but in their minds, they’re protecting you and I don’t have a problem with anyone trying to do that.”

“How are you so fucking kind to them after they basically said you’re with their dumbass son because of money?”

“Like you said, I know monsters. I know toxic and bad. They aren’t it. They raised you and I really, really like you. Good people can be stupid and still be good. In the morning we’ll try again.”

“What if I can’t get them to change their minds?” he said quietly.

“Jensen,” you said, moving to squat down in front of him. You grabbed his cheeks and he stared at you. “You don’t have to pick anybody over anybody. Maybe I won’t be close with them but that’s okay. It’s so okay. We’ll respect each other or just won’t talk to each other and we’ll figure it out but we don’t have to do it all tonight.”

“I think what bothers me the most is they’ve already made up their minds about you based on your age when they don’t even realize who you are. They don’t see that this is the kind of person you are, kind and supportive and I heard you not taking their bullshit. You’re a stronger person than I am and I wish they could see that the reason I’m not freaking out over this is cause I know you’re my partner and you got my back like I got yours. I’m just having a hard time understanding why they won’t even listen to us.”

“I don’t know,” you said, eyes darting to the window when you caught some movement inside. You narrowed them and glanced down, spotting the crack between the windowsill and frame. “I’m a little cool. I’m gonna get my sweatshirt if that’s okay.”

“Careful climbing in,” he said, turning on his bottom and pushing the window up. You kissed his cheek and climbed inside, the room empty as far as you could tell. You stepped out to the hall and into his old room, getting your hoodie, his old hoodie. You pulled it on but went downstairs, catching his parents in the kitchen with Josh.

“Josh may I speak to your parents in private,” you said.

“Yeah. I’m done here. I’ll be over for brunch, okay?” he said. He walked past you and caught your arm. “Call me if you need me back.” You nodded and he kissed your temple before he went out.

“Were you eavesdropping on us?” you asked, crossing your arms.

“We went to tell him to get off the roof. We could see him from the backyard up there,” said his mom, putting her back to you as she mixed up something in a mug. “But we heard the three of you talking and then the two of you. We didn’t mean-”

“We are all on the same side. His side. We should get along. It shouldn’t be this difficult and I don’t appreciate private conversations being listened in on. But I hope you understand that you hurt your son. I know you didn’t mean to and it’s the last thing you’d ever want to do to him. But you did. So please try to help me fix this. This isn’t easy for me to accept that you don’t like me either but you’re gonna respect me. If we can respect each other, then he’s not going to worry as much at least. Please promise that we can agree to that,” you said. His parents looked at each other and you sighed. “You have to be kidding me. What do you want me to do? Go away? I can’t do that. I won’t do that.”

“That’s not...Jensen called your father a monster up there,” he said.

“I thought it was a sob story according to you ten minutes ago.”

“You said you don’t have parents. He said your father is alive.”

“What’s your point, Mr. Ackles,” you said. “Please enlighten me.”

“It doesn’t make much sense to tell different stories,” he said.

“You can’t even give me the benefit of the doubt that I love your son. Why the fuck would I tell you things only he knows, things so few people know about. Why would I trust you with the worst parts of my life when you don’t accept the best ones. For your information, my birth mother is dead. My adoptive mother is dead. I wish my son of a bitch father was dead. The only glimmer of a parent I have maybe, maybe was my foster father. That was until last weekend. I met some parents. I met Dee’s. I met Jared’s. I got the same message from all of them. Let us know if you ever need anything. Oh the way he looks at you. You must be pretty special. Anything at all, you give us a call. People that don’t even have an obligation to look in my direction treated me like I was their kid. So maybe he and I both got our hopes up with you two and that was on us. If you want to pick apart what I’ve said and call me a liar…” you said, putting your hands on your hips. Your shut your eyes and breathed deeply, turning around. “I don’t care if you have to pretend to respect me. Just do it for his sake and the kids sakes, alright?”

A tissue appeared over your shoulder and you took it, blowing your nose and stepping away.

“When did your mother’s pass?” you heard behind you. You threw your head back and took a deep breath.

“When I was born and when I was sixteen,” you said, turning around and swallowing. “Why does that matter?”

“When were you adopted?” he asked.

“Why do you care?”

“Please.”

“I was eight,” you said.

“So you only had your mother for eight years then,” he said.

“Yeah. She got sick when I was fourteen. I stayed with her boyfriend until I moved out for my first nanny job at eighteen. It was all very sad and angsty,” you said.

“Who made the first move?”

“I’m done with this interrogation,” you said. You started to leave but he stepped in front of you. “What do you want from me?”

“I just want to know who made the first move, you or Jensen.”

“I don’t…” you trailed off. “We had a fight. I told him I didn’t want him to be my friend anymore, he was just my boss and that was it. We couldn’t hang out at night and stuff anymore.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t want him to hurt me,” you said quietly. “I didn’t fit with his life. I’m not a pretty actress. I’m not smart. I’m the younger nanny and that’s all I was gonna be until I became an older nanny and that was supposed to be my life. I didn’t ask for…”

“For what?” asked his mother, carrying over her mug and setting it down on the end table.

“I didn’t ask for him to love me. But he did and I don’t know why but I trusted him not to hurt me. It’s not fairytales and roses all day every day but I like having a best friend and I never would have submitted those books to a publisher without him encouraging me and I need him to feel better. He can’t catch a break lately and I hate seeing him upset. It makes me sick to my stomach and I really, really need him to be okay so please stop doing this. Just stop. Please. I don’t care if we have to pretend the rest of our lives but please, I can’t keep seeing him take hit after hit anymore and not being able to stop it.”

You weren’t expecting the hug from his father or to bury your face in his chest for a brief moment. His mom guided you to sit on the couch, pulling a blanket around you. She handed you the mug and you saw it was hot chocolate, your eyes darting back and forth between them.

“This isn’t about to be like a lifetime movie where you murder me, right?” you said.

“No,” said his mom as she sat next to you. “We hurt you quite deeply today, didn’t we.”

You stared at the mug, holding it in your hands.

“You were looking forward to meeting us,” said his dad as he sat down on your other side.

“It doesn’t matter. All I care about is him.”

“I don’t think he’d be very happy with you laying down for a semblance of normalcy for him,” he said.

“Just spit out whatever the fuck you want,” you said. You gripped the mug and shut your eyes.

“I’d like you to stop swearing please,” he said. “In exchange, maybe we can have a second chance.”

“Second chance at what?” you said dryly.

“At meeting our son’s fiance.” You lifted your head and stared at him, catching a bashful look you saw in Jensen every so often. “We understand, as well as we can, he was hurt after Danneel. We can’t fix those problems like when he would scrape his knees. We knew he was in a vulnerable position and things between the two of you seemed so fast for how in pain he was. We thought of the worst of you before knowing you and that wasn’t right of us. We were trying to protect him. But like you said, we all try to do that. So if you’ll let us, give us a second chance.”

“For him, I will give you both a second chance,” you said. “I’m sorry to have to be the one to tell you this but this sort of thing isn’t going to go away just like that, for him or for me.”

“Is there anything…” said his mom as you shook your head. “We are sorry for before. Truly.”

“I know. Trust is difficult for me on a normal day. You guys kinda tore through the safety nets I thought I had with you. I need to build them up again is all.”

“That was you that said that, people have safety nets,” she said. You raised and eyebrow and she sighed. “Jensen, months back, he told us his therapist told him that, put things in perspective.”

“I guess couple’s are kinda each other’s therapists,” you said. “Sometimes they just need to vent to each other too.”

“Before you said...has he ever been to one?” asked his dad.

“Last weekend was...intense. I went to one as a child and he talked to him for a little while, helped him put things in perspective,” you said.

“Intense? Did you fight?” she asked.

“He and JJ got stung by a scorpion. It was a little serious. We went out the next night and I made a comment and he took it a different way and he got upset thinking I thought of myself as being less in his eyes than Dee was. I know it’s not true, it’s just different. He’s been having a really great week aside from today.”

You took a sip of the hot chocolate and went back for more, drinking half the mug down.

“We screwed up,” said his dad with a sigh, sitting back against the couch.

“Yeah but he’ll forgive you,” you said. “This is really good Mrs. Ackles.”

“Thank you sweetie and call me Donna. I made it for Jensen. He’s always liked it when he was living here and having a bad day.”

“Why do you think he’ll forgive us?” asked his dad as Donna got up.

“Because he’s Jensen. He’s not an angry man. Angry in moments but he doesn’t hold onto anger. I wouldn’t expect anything less from him. So I know he’ll forgive you. When I’m not sure of but it won’t be forever.”

“Have you two ever fought badly?” he asked.

“We’ve had a few fights. Mostly small and when we’re both tired or hungry. We had a big one a few weeks ago when he got home but we talked about why it happened and how to make sure it doesn’t again,” you said. Donna carried over a kettle and poured more hot chocolate in your mug. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Don't ask about fights Alan. It’s not our business. We should let them tell us what they want,” she said as she walked back to the kitchen.

“They probably should have had a big fight at least once to know if they can work through those things and it sounds like they have,” he said when he turned to you. “I know you’re probably love struck but marriage? That’s a lifetime of putting in the work.”

“Alan if I didn’t care about putting in the work I wouldn’t be down here right now. I know I don’t know everything I’m signing up for and no one really does but I know him and the kids and that’s worth the parts I have to work at.”

“You sound older than you look.”

“Age doesn’t always equal life experience,” you said.

“I suppose not,” he said. He stood and took a deep breath. “I do apologize for thinking the worst of you and not giving you a fair chance upfront.”

“Thank you,” you said. “I’m going to bring this up and check on him.”

“Can I ask one last thing?” asked his dad. You nodded and he looked over to Donna who gave him a short nod. “Josh said you really love him.”

“I do.”

“Do you think he loves you the same way?”

“I know he does,” you said.

“How are you so sure?”

“How are you so sure your wife loves you?” you said. “Goodnight Alan.”

“Goodnight,” he said, his mom catching up with you in the foyer where the stairs were. You gave her a tired smile and she nodded.

“If I told you something, would you keep it a secret from Jensen?” she asked.

“No,” you said with a smile.

“I had to try,” she said. “We’re not like this by nature. Something happened he doesn’t know about when he was recovering that put us off to you. A woman. A young woman at his physical therapy.”

“What happened?” you asked quietly. She took a seat on a step and you sat beside her. “If someone tried to take advantage of him, you should have told me and him. He thinks you guys have gone nuts, no offense.”

“You’ll find with time you’d rather have your child safe and upset at you than the other way around,” she said.

“What happened?”

“We moved down to the house for a few months to help Jensen. He went to physical therapy. A very good place. A family friend works there and got him in and he regained a lot of strength in his leg quickly because of it. There were nurses that often helped and he worked with a few regularly and they develop a relationship and all that. It’s good for morale and healing we were told. One of these girls was about your age and our family friend overheard her gossiping to a friend on the phone during a lunch break.”

“Gossiping about…” you said. “Jensen?”

“They saw an opportunity to manipulate him. He is smart, smarter than the both of us together, but he was going through the motions that first month. She made him smile a bit. She flirted with him. Our friend told us what she’d said and we realized, he could be hurt again. Taken advantage of for what he has, what he can offer. His sudden shift in mood this year, introducing you as a fiance, made us think we’d failed to protect him this time.”

“Why not tell him that?” you asked.

“And tell him he was being manipulated back then? He’s so adamant that it can’t happen to him but we know different.”

“I think you should tell him, Donna. It makes your reaction today seem not so…” you said, her head shaking.

“Ma,” you both heard. You looked over your shoulders, Jensen sat against the wall at the top of the landing. “Mom. Jerry told me why I got a new nurse when it happened. She was nice, or was pretending to be, I don’t know. But I didn’t like her. I never got manipulated and I was never going to.”

“How long-” you said, Jensen rubbing the back of his neck. “You heard everything.”

“Yup,” he said, popping his p, his dad coming over to the bottom of the stairs and staring up. “I don’t want to talk to either of you right now. Y/N, I’d like to go to bed, please.”

“Accept their apology Jensen. You can hash out the rest of this in the morning but accept that they know they were in the wrong,” you said.

“Why should I?” he asked, cocking his head.

“We both got hurt out of their love for you. They are not monsters and I know the difference,” you said. “You know too.”

“Will you two ever look at me the same again,” said Jensen, staring at the landing.

“Honey it was a fight. It’ll be alright,” said his mom, his head shaking.

“Ever since I woke up in the hospital, you two look at me like I’m a kid. Like I’m weak and defenseless. But I’m not. I’m stronger than I’ve ever been and this whole day could have been avoided if you treated me like your adult son, not the kid who fell off his bike and cries over a cut. I needed you two to take over, I did, I honestly did after the accident. I couldn’t take care of myself let alone the kids. But you haven’t stopped thinking I can take care of me again. I can. I do. I know I’m your kid but let me be an adult again. Trust me. Please.”

“Come here,” you said, holding out your hand. He slid down the steps and you stood up and aside, letting him get a hug from his mom and then dad.

“We’re sorry,” said his dad.

“I know,” said Jensen quietly. “Never do something like that again. Ever.”

“We won’t,” he said. You leaned against the wall and sipped on the hot chocolate, Jensen’s nose twitching.

“That’s my cocoa,” he said, turning his head up at you.

“I just Jerry Springer’ed ya’ll. I get the cocoa. Get your own,” you said. He smiled and you gave it right back, his parents pulling off and bringing him to his feet.

“Come here,” said his dad as his mom dragged him off towards the kitchen with the promise of hot chocolate. You stepped down until you were about his height and took a drink, licking your lips when you finished. “How do you just let that go? You were so angry before.”

“I’ve been to therapy. I have good diffusing skills,” you said.

“Is that a joke?”

“Not really,” you said with a smile. “You made a mistake because you love him. I’m gonna make mistakes because I love him. So when I screw up, now you owe me one, deal?”

“I know it’s getting late but would you be willing to stay up a while longer, maybe find out that favorite color?” he asked. You smiled and nodded, stepping down.

“Depends on the day,” said Jensen, stepping out with a mug of his own.

“He’s right,” you said. “You okay to stay up a bit?”

He nodded and walked back to the family room, taking your hand.

“Better?” you whispered to him.

“Yeah. Not all the way but definitely better honey.”

It was warm when you woke up the next morning. You peeled open an eye and caught Jensen laying awake, staring at his ceiling. You kicked off the blankets and he reached an arm out, pulling you to lay on his chest.

“It’s hot in here,” you mumbled, eyes shutting again.

“There’s a box covering the vent,” he said, dancing his fingers lazily over your bare arm. “It’s almost noon.”

“Seriously?” you said into his chest, nuzzling against his soft skin.

“Yeah. Sounds like they’re out back with the kids,” he said. You nodded and felt him move his fingers all over you, soft and light, absentmindedly tracing patterns every so often.

“Still upset?” you asked, his head nodding. “They’re human. They fuck up.”

“Are you angry?”

“I was. Not anymore. I kinda like ‘em actually.”

“Why would you give them a second chance?” he asked.

“When I got adopted I didn’t like, instantly love my mom. I was scared of her at first. I don’t know, I get that you can not like someone at first and then love them unconditionally, you know? It’s weird but your opinions can change once you get to know someone.”

“I don’t do a very good job of protecting you from things,” he said, tilting his head, moving a few hairs behind your ear. You looked up at him, his fingers playing in your hair behind you.

“Honey you went off on your parents last night. I bet you’ve never done that to them. You were trying to protect me and you did. No one has ever protected me the way you do,” you said. “Today is a new day and I’d like to get to know my new family some more.”

“Okay,” he said softly. “I’ll follow your lead.”

_______

A/N: Read Part 13 here!

#supernatural #spn #jensen ackles #jensen ackles au #jensen x reader #jensen series #rpf #rpf series #jensen ackles x reader #spn fanfic #jensen ackles fanfic #supernatural fanfic

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harrypotter-imaginess · 3 years

Text

Part 1 Here! / Part 2 Here!

A/N: maybe two more parts after this

Commission info for a Love Letter from your favorite HP character here - close 3/10/21!

You sigh as you lean your head back on the arm rest of Draco’s couch

You can see him extending a glass of wine towards you, and you take it gingerly into your hand

“I think I want to quit my job”

He doesn’t say anything, just raises an eyebrow and takes a seat in the arm chair next to the sofa you’re sprawled over like you’re at the therapists office

“Planning to coast along on your good looks?” He finally says, trying to keep his face as stern as possible.

Despite himself a smile arch’s onto the corner of his mouth

“I’m being serious!” You say, sitting up.

Draco openly laughs now, and he doesn’t stop until you throw a pillow at him.

“Well what do you expect when you say somethin’ like that out of nowhere.” He manages to say between bursts of laughter

You both have been dating for a while now, almost a year- you even brought him to a company holiday party

Life has been good

Having to hide his wizardry from you isn’t all that hard, he just had to completely reprogram the way he operates as a human being and now he’s fine

...

It’s been a little challenging

You sigh, a hand threading through your hair, eyebrows threaded together

Well now he’s a little worried, he figured you were just joking around but-

“Did something happen at work?”

Did someone say something to you- or maybe someone did something to you

Draco’s already running a list of curses in his mind by the time you sigh and shake your head

“Nothing that hasn’t been happening- not really.”

The cruciatus curse seems a little to far, maybe boils? No that’s too obvious

“It’s a nice place to work, I have it really good, it’s just-“ your eyes flicker from your glass of wine to Draco

“I always figured once I had a steady income life would be exciting yknow? And I would travel and be making memories but-“

You should be grateful, you have a good life. A comfortable job, a cozy house and-

Your eyes flicker to him, taking his impeccably handsome face, that ash blonde hair, and vibrant grey eyes

And you’ve got Draco

But even though you have all these things, you can’t help but feel like life is just passing you by, and before you know it you’ll be 80 on your death bed having done nothing at all

Draco’s quiet for a moment, picking up on the unspoken sentiment

Maybe you shouldn’t have unpacked on him like that- he’s got his own problems too after all

“Let’s go on Holiday”

Huh?

Draco picks up on your confusion and elaborates on his reasoning

“You’re just a little burned out, you need a break.”

It happened to his Dad all the time when he was a kid, he’d get caught up in all of his dark magic council meetings and his board positions and wonder if this is just life was- an endless power struggle

And that’s when his Mum would swoop in with an elegant family trip to some exotic location, and they would all come back like new people.

Right now you need someone to show you the joy in life. That it’s not just going to work for fifty years and dying

There’s a long stretch of silence between the two of you

And Draco starts to wonder if maybe his Mum had it all wrong

Maybe he should have just offered to make you his spouse, he makes enough money for the both of you- you don’t have to work if you don’t want to when you’re his

He’s internally rehearsing his proposal speech, picking out which moments he should highlight

Which is pretty hard because every moment with you feels like a highlight

“Where would we go?”

Your voice is soft, almost hesitant, but Draco doesn’t overlook the twinkle in your eye

He grins

“Anywhere you want”

You find out pretty fast that Draco is a meticulous planner- everything is carefully decided

“Alright we’ll get off the flight, and we’ll get one of those mu- I mean we’ll get a car from there so we don’t have to worry about transportation-“

Literally everything is reserved, the hotel you’re staying in the city at for the first few nights, the car you’ll be using while you’re in France, the bed and breakfast Draco found out about in a small village in the French country side, even all the restaurants you’ll be eating at

Which is totally fine, some structure isn’t a bad thing

It’s just Draco’s never struck you as someone who plans everything out

“Is everything alright darling? Is this a personality trait of yours I’m just going to have to grow to love?”

You wrap your arms around his torso from the back, your chin resting on his shoulder to glance at the travel documents he’s reviewing

“Oh I never do this when I’m traveling alone- I don’t even take a travel bag most of the time, I can just buy whatever I need when I land- one time I didn’t even take my wallet because your phone is a wallet these days.”

You raise an eyebrow, what a little rich boy

You can’t think of all the times your family packed everything they could possibly need when going on vacation so they wouldn’t have to pay for anything when they got there

“So what’s the difference this time?” You ask, has hitting the quarter of life struck him with a lightening bolt that’s transformed him into a dad now?

“Because I’m going with you”

So everything has to be perfect. You’re taking a whole two weeks off of work, he’s got to make sure you don’t regret it, and give you the best time possible

“Don’t tell me you’re planning on proposing”

You’re only joking, but the disgusted look that crosses Draco’s features makes you flinch

You know it’s probably a little early to mention marriage, it’s only been a year after all, but you would be lying if you said that didn’t hurt

“I would never propose in France (Y/N), I have taste”

That whole country is just overhyped, and Paris is way too dirty - like most cities.

But it’s where you want to go- you like art museums and fresh baked bread so here he is

Going to god damn France

But he’ll be hexed before he proposes to you in that god forsaken country

“Oh so there’s going to be a proposal?”

“Of course there is” he says off handedly, verifying that both of your passports are up to date

And then he realizes what he just admitted and feels a ruby red blush creep onto his face from his neck

“W-wait-“

He turns around to face you, face bright red, only to see you smiling like you’ve just won the lottery

And he should be hopelessly embarrassed,

he’s been trying to play it cool for the last year, to play at your pace in terms of relationship development

Only to let it slip through his fingers in a single moment

But you look so happy to know he see’s a future with you

“Alright, sounds good. Just give me a heads up a few weeks before so I can get a spa appointment to look pretty for all our pictures”

You’re joking.... kind of

You don’t put it past Draco to have a photographer follow you both around and take pictures of the whole engagement thing

Draco’s actually taking your joke quite seriously though, a dopey grin on his mouth

“I’ll give you a hint the weekend before”

That should be enough time to get all your affairs in order

It’ll also give him enough time on how to break to you that he’s a wizard and well- his parents probably hate you

You’re smiling, an embarrassed expression crossing your features as you change the topic to which places you’ll be visiting

But there’s a shadow on Draco’s face

He sighs when you leave, saying you have to go back to your house to pack-

It’s always so lonely when you’re gone

He collapses on his arm chair, twirling his wand so that there’s a glass of fire whisky in his hand

He’s going to have to tell you soon- not just about his wizardry, but also about his family

His Mum’s already got half a guess there’s something going on here - but he bets the worst she believes is that he’s dating someone beneath him, maybe a muggle born at worst

Certainly not an actual muggle

His father’s clueless as always - too busy with his council positions and appearances

His mother will be fine , she would be upset of course, but she would come around eventually

His Father would disown him

He’s fairly confident about that

The second he says he’s in love with a muggle- it’s over for him

His dad might actually curse him when he finds out he’s marrying a muggle- bringing dirty blood into their bloodline

And Draco might curse him back

Because they can say whatever they want about him, but not about you-

Nothing about you is dirty

You’re the purest, kindest, loveliest person he’s ever seen

And he still can’t believe you’re his

You shouldn’t be surprised when you find out Draco booked you both first class seats

Or when you get to the airport and see a Mercedes convertible waiting for you

Or even when you get to the hotel - which turns out to be The Ritz

The tipping point is when you find out the “room” Draco booked is actually the penthouse

“Well that was exhausting, should we take a nap before going to the Louvre?”

You’re sitting on the sofa in the living area, your head in your hands

Draco doesn’t seem to notice. He’s too busy pouring Perrier into two crystal glasses.

“Draco, love, do you remember before we went on this trip, that I insisted paying my portion- even though you said there was no need?”

Draco looks up from the Perrier. But you’re still staring at the ground

“And then when I asked why my portion was so low- you said you got a really great economy deal from a travel package.”

That was the excuse he used wasn’t it

“Well there was a discount travel package, I just didn’t book it.”

Honestly he’s not sure what his end game was here- honestly he was just hoping you would believe this was all included in the package

Your palms are pressed together, your head resting against them

Draco extends a glass of Perrier towards you

You look at it for several long seconds,

he probably got it out of the mini fridge that charges 10x mark up

“I’m paying for our next trip” you say, accepting the glass with a sigh

Draco only grins

“So there’s going to be a next trip?”

You almost snort laughing

“Are you seriously asking me that after you basically proposed to me last week?”

Ah, you’ve got him there

You smile as you tug his towards you, pressing a kiss to his mouth

“Of course there will be you dork”

He smiles as he holds you close, kissing you again

Being in Paris is really cool

You go on a tour of the catacombs

“Watch your step” Draco says, offering his arm for support

“Thanks” you hold his hand as you make your way through the dark space

And the Louvre

“Am I supposed to be feeling something right now?” He asks

You’re both looking at the Mona Lisa, and you’ve got tears in your eyes, feeling very small

You’re almost humbled being in her presence, the painting that has withstood centuries

“Yes” you sniffle, taking the handkerchief Draco’s extended towards you

“You’re a rich kid, aren’t you supposed to be super invested in art and stuff?”

He gives you a mischievous grin

“I look at you everyday don’t I”

You manage a laugh, lightly smacking him in the arm

Things are going really well, you’re both having a really good time, and then something happens-

It’s your last day in the city before you head out to the french countryside,

you and Draco decided you would spend the morning souvenir shopping before heading there in the afternoon

You’ve put in an order for some macrons for your friends and the people at work

“Do you think they’ll still be good by the time we get back home?”

It will be at least a week until you head back, and longer until you see any of your friends

“I think as long as we freeze them” Draco assures

He’ll put a charm on them for good measure

“Malfoy?”

The second Draco hears that voice he goes rigid

You see, being with you for a year has been utter bliss.

Draco’s had a good year, the best year of his entire life-

The thing is though, he got so caught up in who he was becoming-

that he completely forgot who he used to be-

Until this moment

“Weasley. Granger”

Weasley looks the same as ever, flaming red hair and a splatter of freckles across his nose and spilling onto his face

Still that tall, lean, but muscular build he had when he last saw him.

Granger looks great though, she’s got her curls framing her face, smooth dark skin glistening against a clean cut pant suit

“Lovely to see you both”

Draco seems composed

But on the inside he’s on the verge of having a panic attack

Maybe they’ll just give a wave and be on their way

Yes that’s entirely pos-

Nope. They’re walking over to you two

F*ck

“Are you going to introduce us?” You ask with a teasing smile

Oh crap, he forgot the social protocols a situation like this calls for in his panic

“R-right, (Y/N) this is Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger-“

“Actually we’re both Weasley now” Ron says with a proud grin

“- well she was Granger now she’s Weasley too, we um-“

Were sworn rivals. Mortal enemies. Fought on opposite sides of a great and tragic war.

“Went to school together”

He can honestly say that isn’t a lie.

They all did go to school together

A magic school in the mountains of Scotland, where they rode brooms and befriended magical creatures

Somehow he gets the feeling that’s not the type of experience you’re picturing though

To his surprise things are going pretty well, the conversation is mostly revolving around Paris, you and Granger seem to share a similar love for Mona Lisa

“And when you stand in front of her-“ Granger starts

“It’s like she’s judging you!” You finish

The two of you are only a moment away from embracing

Weasley looks like he couldn’t care less about Mona Lisa

And for once Draco thinks they’re in agreement

Maybe it’s because they’re from pureblood families

Because something surviving 500 years isn’t all that big of a deal to wizards

Not when the average wizard can live a few hundred years, his great grandfather even lived until the ripe old age of 652

“So are you two on Holiday?” You ask and Granger shakes her head

“No, we’re actually here for work on behalf of the Au-“

“On behalf of their museum I’m sure” Draco cuts in quickly

He was so comfortable in the fantasy where his previously sworn enemies might become causal aquantinces that he completely forgot there were three wizards and one muggle in this conversation

“”They um-“ Draco clears his throat giving a meaningful look to Granger and Weasley before lowering his voice “they actually work for a rival museum. Managed to get an exhibit from right under me”

The lies just seem to stack on one another.

Draco’s not sure what’s worse- that he’s getting better with coming up with these lies-

“Is that why they aren’t invited to your hangouts with Blaise, Theo and Pansy”

Or that you trust him so much you wholeheartedly believe each and every lie

“That is exactly why they’re not invited”

Some force in the universe must like him, because luckily enough that’s when your order number is called.

“Oh looks like it’s ready, I’ll see you in a bit darling” you press a kiss to his cheek before making your way towards the counter

And Draco’s so caught up in the subtle affection you’ve just shown him he’s completely forgotten all about the situation at hand until Granger clears her throat.

Ah yes, the mountain of lies he’s haphazardly built.

How could he forget

Granger looks like she’s got the gist of the situation,

Weasley on the other hand looks just as dumb as Draco remembers from school

His mouth agape

“Are they a muggle??”

Draco flinches at how loud Weasley says the word Muggle

“Yes, they are could you please keep your voice down”

He looks in your direction

Oh good it looks like you didn’t hear

He turns back to his old enemies

They both look like their mind is broken

“But your family they hate-“

“That’s my parents, that’s not me” Draco snaps quickly

But it was him, wasn’t it

All those times he tormented muggle borns at school, the dark magic artifacts he toyed with-

He looks at Granger

All the times he called her mud blood

He’s not as bad as his parents

-but he’s still not good

“Since I was there I got yours too-“

The second you’re back you can tell something is off

The tension hangs in the air like fog

Draco looks like he’s just seen a ghost, face pale and thin pink lips trembling

“What’s wrong?” You ask

Draco was a monster, that’s what’s wrong

“Nothing,” he puts on his most believable smile “we should get going or it will get dark before we get to the manse”

You nod, taking his hand in yours

It’s trembling

“It was lovely meeting you, maybe we’ll see each other again soon”

Granger who’s been awfully quiet for this whole ordeal smiles

“Yes, I hope we do”

The look Granger gives you is genuine and warm

- like she already considers you a friend

and it makes Draco feel twice as bad

It’s not like anything has really changed as you two drive through the countryside

You’re still joking like you always do,

Draco’s driving and he stops in several places on the way there so you can take polaroids in the French country scenery

But something feels...off

Like he’s just pretending to be happy

You really shouldn’t be surprised when you roll up to a large iron gate,

Draco types in the code into a keypad and they creak as they open revealing a rather impressive winding drive

At the end of which is an absolute unit of a mansion

“This isn’t a bed and breakfast is it?”

For one there’s not even a parking lot, Draco gives you a fleeting look before taking your bags out of the car.

“This is my family’s manse, we would come up here during the summer for vacation”

He was on the fence about bringing you here, but his Mum always had a rule that all dark magic artifacts would be kept away from their vacation home

His father could have free reign over the manse near London, but not here when they were on vacation

“You grew up here?” You say, taking in the fountain, the thirty windows you see in the front face alone, and the massive rose garden to the side

“Not really, we would just come here to vacation, it was really for my parents. I spent most of my time climbing up trees-“

And playing with the house elves, which his mother would later reprimand him for

It was always worse for them though

At least Father pays them a wage now, however meager it may be

“There’s no servants right now though, so it will be just us”

He says it as he leads you through the manse, passing the drawing room, a rather impressive parlor, up a long pair of winding steps into the east wing into a rather lavish room

“I hope you don’t mind staying in my old room, my parents used to use the master and that just seems... icky”

you laugh And he gives you another smile, and this time you know somethings wrong.

“We can go to the village nearby and grab dinner, or we can stay here but I doubt the pantry has-“

“Draco,” you stop him mid speech about getting dinner “What’s wrong?”

Draco does his best to smile for you

“Nothings wrong-“

“No, something is wrong” you cut him off quickly, taking his hand in both of yours

“You’ve been...sad”

that’s what it is, the emotion he’s been trying to cover up

He thought he was covering up his internal turmoil pretty well

Draco won’t lie, the fact that he’s more transparent then he thinks hurts

“Ever since we saw your old classmates at the bakery”

The way he flinches when you mention it tells you all you need to know

You feel a protective flare swell inside you

“Did something happen? Did they do something to you?“

you’re already thinking about how you need to protect you Draco from them, they work in the same industry so they’re bound to cross paths. Maybe-

“I’m the one who did something to them.”

Draco breaks you away from your thoughts

“What?”

“I-“

Draco looks into your puzzled face, and his heart squeezes

He didn’t want you to find out, not like this

Pretty soon you’ll be thrust into his history headfirst-

His hand is held in both of yours,

your eyes are so warm as they look up at him.

And all he can think is that he doesn’t deserve any of this

The truth is he didn’t want you to ever know

“I wasn’t a good person” he croaks

He knows he’s just as much a victim as the others, he’s got the scars and the death eater mark to prove it- both things he didn’t really want

It was coercion, they told him.

He grew up in an environment where he was punished for showing any original thought, his therapist had said

He’s a victim too

But that doesn’t mean it was okay for him to treat people like that- for him to call people that word-

“I was a bully, a monster, I was-”

Draco’s cut off when you pull him into a hug

Draco stumbles back when you throw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around him

“Stop. Don’t talk about yourself like that.” You say

He doesn’t understand why until he see’s the tears drop onto your hair

Oh, he’s crying

“Shh, it’s okay” you hum, holding him close as he sobs into your shoulder

And you two stay just like that for a long time

“I just don’t want you to think less of me” Draco murmurs, you’re both on his bed now, you’re both sitting cross legged across from each other

He looks so ashamed, it’s like he’s admitting he killed someone

In all honestly, you figured something like this might be the case.

Draco’s a rich boy, he doesn’t seem like someone who’s experienced financial struggle,

He’s someone who experienced life with a sense of entitlement

You look at him, rim of his eyes tinged pink and swelling. The almost pitiful sniffle he lets out

But the Draco in front of you isn’t like that, not anymore at least.

His kindness is still a little rough...but it’s there

You know that, you see it every time he picks up on your mood, every time he comforts you when you have a bad day

You’ve seen it during this trip, where he catered everything so you would have a good time

You just have to make him see that now

“All of that, it’s in the past now Draco” you squeeze his hand, and he finally stops looking down and up at you

“You have a past, I do too” you give him a warm smile. “but that’s all behind us now, all that matter is where we’re going from here”

Your reassuring expression and tender words make him feel like he might cry again, but this time for a different reason

“We don’t have to talk about it, not until you’re ready” you tell him

he feels his eyes sting

“I don’t deserve your kindness”

And from another man you would think it’s a plot to earn your sympathy, but looking at Draco you know he means every word

He looks like a broken man

Like he’s haunted, worn down to the bone

So you do the only thing you can think to do, knees pressing into the mattress you hover over him. Your hands cup each side of his face, tilting it up so those brilliant grey eyes are looking at you

“You deserve every part of me my love” you murmur, peppering his face with kisses

Scattering them across his cheeks, his hairline, down his thin nose, and across his jaw

Before finally catching his lips, your mouth gently caressing his

“(Y/N)-“ your name leaves him in a breathless voice- half in want and half concerned

His hand caresses your face, stopping you as you kiss down his neck

He wants to tell you that You don’t have to do any of this just because he’s feeling emotional

But he doesn’t have to say anything, because you understand immediately, giving him a kind smile

“I’m doing it because I want you-“ you take his hand , pressing kisses to the end of his fingertips

“Do you trust me?”

And Draco, who doesn’t trust his voice, can only manage a nod

“I’m going to be good for you” you murmur against his hand, and you feel him shiver underneath you.

Draco’s made love to you countless times, felt your burning skin against his hands so many times he’s lost count.

But it’s never been like this

It’s so....

He looks at you underneath him, your eyes are warm as you look up at him, and full of so much love

It’s.....Comforting.

This time making love to you is comforting.

Your hand presses against his lower abdomen, right above the place you both are connected, and it earns an involuntary shiver from him

But you don’t stop there, your hand trails up his stomach, across his chest, fingers lightly brushing against the nape of his neck before resting on his face

The action, mixed with that warm look in your eyes, feels so tender

“You’re so pretty” You murmur, your thumb rubbing tenderly across his cheek.

Caressing his face.

“My pretty boy Draco”

And he feels emotion well up within him once more.

A tear slipping down his face as he leans down to kiss you

He doesn’t deserve this, he doesn’t deserve your love

But he’s so grateful that he has it

That he has you

“Being good for him” extends past the bedroom it seems, because the next morning he wakes up to an empty bed, his body littered with kiss marks, a hot bath drawn for him with flower petals scattered across the surface, and a note

‘Took the car to the village, will be back soon. P.S take a bath and relax until I get back, I have your favorite tea in the kettle for when you’re done.’

Draco can’t help the goofy grin that spreads across his face

“I really don’t deserve you”

You come back only fifteen minutes later, while he’s still soaking in the tub.

You walk over to him wordlessly, rubbing his shoulders as you lean against the rim of the tub.

“How are you feeling today darling?” You murmur, kissing his temple.

“Better now that you’re here.” And he means it, he loves what you’ve done for him, but it’s always so lonely when you’re gone

He takes your hand in his, looking up at you with shining grey eyes.

“Will you join me?”

You laugh, your other hand caressing his face

“I have to go get things ready for our picnic- I thought it might be nice, there’s a place the locals told me about- a hill a few kilometers away from here.”

“That can wait can’t it?” He asks, and when you make no move to undress he adds -

“please?”

He looks like a little boy, and you find yourself relenting, pulling off your sweater with a sigh

The tub is massive, probably half the size of your bedroom, so you give Draco some room, sitting on the other side of the tub

Last night was intense, for you and for him, you don’t want to overwhelm him with too much stimulation

But Draco doesn’t let you stay far away, beckoning you to him. Only satisfied when your back is pressed against his chest, his arms wrapped around your chest and stomach

“I’m sorry-“ he starts, but you silence him with a simple squeeze of his hand

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for”

And it’s true. How many times has Draco comforted you- bringing you dinner when you pulled late nights at work, or kissed your tears away?

“It’s nice. Seeing another part of the person I love” you reassure

There’s a moment of silence before Draco opens his mouth again

“When I was in school, I-I -“

“ you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to” you reassure,

the two have the rest of your lives to talk about these things, there’s no rush

But Draco shake his head, and offers you a small smile

“I want to talk about it, I want you to know”

And so Draco tells you as much as he can without giving away his secret

He tells you his family comes from old money, and he internalized certain messages from that

“It’s not an excuse,” he clarifies, “but it’s part of the story too”

He tells you how he was a bully all through this childhood and into adolescence.

Even early adulthood.

How he basically tormented the people he bullied-

“Granger... I was terrible to her.” He admits, you’ve since moved away from the bath tub, and you’re sitting in the garden, drinking tea and eating scones. “I called her terrible things”

He means he called her a mudblood, the greatest insult a person can get

You’re thinking he probably called her a b*tch or a c*nt.

Honestly I’m not sure which version is worse

“Did you have a crush on her?” You ask, and Draco sputters. His cheeks blooming red

He remembers being jealous of Granger, she was always at the top of their class, and he always came in second to her.

He remembers getting lectures for it everytime he came home for the holidays

His Father always fuming how Draco was so inept that even a ‘mudblood’ could surpass him.

And some of that did transfer to his dislike for the person

He does remember thinking she looked awfully beautiful at the Yule Ball though, in that pink dress

“She’d look better in green” he had thought and then realizing what he just thought blushed and looked towards his date.

“Maybe I did.” He admits to you, almost a decade later.

And you laugh

“I bet you were a cutie” Draco only blushes even more

What you wouldn’t give to see a teenage Draco, you wonder what it would have been like if you met him when you were younger

How different would things be?

You watch Draco flush bright red, trying to cover his embarrassment with a sip of his tea

Well, the way things turned out isn’t so bad either

You spend the rest of the trip at Draco’s family’s manor, in domestic bliss

You stand on your tip toes, trying to reach a pair of mugs on the top shelf

“Here let me get that” Draco says reaching them with ease while standing behind you

You drink tea in the garden

“Draco darling, will you pass me the preserves?”

You’re both dressed like something out a a historical drama, he’s in a suit and you’ve got on a tilted sun hat and white gloves

Playing like you’re nobility vacationing in the Parisian countryside

Which... Draco sort of actually is

.... let’s not think of that

And go on picnics on the nearby hill

“Oh no” you mumble

“What’s wrong?” Draco asks while setting down the picnic blanket

“I forgot to bring glasses for the wine” you sigh

Draco shrugs

“We’ll just drink from the bottle”

You make a face and he laughs

“What does the thought of an indirect kiss make you nervous?”

You lightly shove him with a laugh

And late nights spent in their family library

“Your family sure has a strange book collection” you say holding up a book titled ‘witchcraft in the mid-1800’s’

Draco scrambles towards you

“Y-yeah that’s probably my dad, he’s kind of interested in that occult stuff...for fun, not like, because he’s apart of a cult or anything”

Not anymore at least

“I wasn’t thinking that he was apart of a cult... but I am now” you joke

You’ve moved on, scanning the rest of their collection, but Draco’s looking at you-

This last week has been like something out of a dream

He can’t imagine how happy he would be to have this everyday

He watches your hand brush against the spine of a book

He extends a hand over your own, stroking your ring finger

“Make sure this finger is empty for me, okay?”

#harry potter imagine #harry potter #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy imagines #draco malfoy headcanons #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x muggle reader #Harry Potter Hogwarts mystery #harrypotter-imaginess

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evenifitrains · 3 years

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Basics: Name: Charity Burbage. Pronunciation: cha-ruh-tee burr-bed-ge Meaning: Latin origin, meaning dear and beloved. Birthday: August 7th. Age: 22. Pronouns: She/her. Sexuality: Pansexual. Siblings: Perry Burbage, Merrick Burbage, Walter Burbage and Lucile Burbage. Parents: Nick Burbage (muggle) and Mia Burbage (pure-blood). Both deceased. Other Family: Two grandparents (maternal), one uncle (maternal) and one aunt (paternal). Languages: English. Current Residence: Kingston, London. Hometown: Londonderry, Ireland.

Wizard Fun: Hogwarts House: Ravenclaw Year of Graduation: 1977. Occupation: Secretary for the Muggle Liaison Office. Pet: One ginger cat named Iago. Blood Status: Half-blood. Species: Human. Patronus: Dolphin. Boggart: Standing by and watching her house burn down again. Amortentia: Vanilla, her old farmhouse when it rained, old books, herbal tea. Wand type: Yew wood: Yew wands almost never embrace an owner who lacks courage or skill, that much has been clearly established. Interestingly, they are known to grow into adult trees when buried along with their partners Thunderbird-feather Core: The feather from the tail of a Thunderbird makes for a wand skilled in Transfiguration, well-able to sense danger and even cast curses on their own, but are, for all these reasons, exceptionally hard to master, for all their sheer power. Affiliation: Neutral.

Appearance: Height: 5’4 Hair Color: Light-brown. Eye Color: Brown. Typical Hair Style: Just grazing her shoulder, spelled to curl up at the ends. Fashion Style: Comfortably rich. Preppy dresses, cardigans, headbands, red lipstick. Distinguishing Features: Calculating eyes and a constant almost smile. Scars on her hands from cigarette ash. Personality: Fiercely loyal, smug, not afraid to ask for what she wants, attentive to those she loves most. Positive Traits: Protective, empathetic. Negative Traits: Know-it-all, egotistical.

Quick Facts: Theme song: Femme Fatale - The Velvet Underground. Queen of Disaster - Lana Del Rey. Head-canons:

Only uses ribbons to tie her hair.

Always has two different lipsticks in her handbag.

Talks in her sleep.

Is almost determined to prove she hasn’t been traumatised by her childhood. Buys candles, uses the fireplace as much as she can, smokes.

Cannot whistle.

Buys lots of hats, but rarely wears them.

Amazing liar, but can always tell when someone is lying to her.

Tendency to notice every single little detail about everything.

Incredibly small handwriting.

Has a horrible sweet-tooth.

Likes to make direct eye-contact, especially when the other is uncomfortable with it.

Rather mean-spirited.

Knows a lot of constellations and always points them out.

Can be overbearing to those she loves, isn’t afraid to tell them the hard truths.

Bio:

Charity Burbage is the youngest of five children born to Nick and Mia Burbage, and the only child to be given such a pompous first name. She and her siblings were raised in Northern Ireland, sharing a farmhouse with her fathers side of the family. For muggles, they took the news of Mia’s magical status surprisingly easily and seemed to be more excited to see the magical potential of the children than Mia was herself. On Charity’s fifth birthday, she demanded a cake just like one she’d seen in a commercial. Her older brothers and sister took her out to a nearby lake while they waited, running around and playing and testing out the new toys she’d gotten that morning. They were very harshly interrupted by the sound of the town’s one and only fire-engine barreling towards their property. They all ran so fast that Charity remembers it more like flying. There was nothing left of their house or belongings by the time they arrived. She can’t properly remember what exactly had happened, always too hesitant to make one of her siblings relive it. Something about the oven being faulty.

All five of the Burbage children survived, and their aunt Nora - but being only freshly twenty herself, she could not look after them. So they were sent to live with their second set of grandparents, lugging their un-charred belongings all the way to Surrey. Her grandparents were both of pure blood, and they tried their hardest to love the children even though they were not. Her mother’s decision to accept her father’s proposal had caused a ridge in the family, but luckily that grudge was not put onto the children. They essentially assimilated into pure blood society, only interacting with the muggle world when absolutely necessary. Charity remembers how quickly her older sister lost her accent and started speaking like the adults around them. As the youngest, Charity was often overlooked. Pushed aside in favour of her older brothers who had already started representing the family name at Hogwarts. She quickly learned that disruptive behaviour was her only surefire way of being seen. As a result of this, she was quite often pawned off to be babysat by her uncle, a tough man who wouldn’t bat an eye no matter how much mischief she found her way into. The only thing she’d liked about that man was the large book collection he had in his study, so the two of them quickly came to a compromise. If she left him alone, she was welcome to which ever books she pleased. By the time she was ten, he started ordering them in especially for her as she’d finished with all the others. It was no surprise to him when she was sorted into Ravenclaw.

Hogwarts was nothing special to Charity, appearing exactly as it had in the books on her shelves and the stories from her siblings. What she really loved were the other students. Watching them learn. No two students were the same there, even the children from the ridiculously long lines of pureblood families. She must’ve offended her siblings with the amount of times she blew them off in favour of listening to her peers. She especially loved the muggle-borns, catching up on the world she’d been forced out of. The books on muggle culture here uncle owned were terribly outdated and had never helped quench that thirst she’d had since the night of the fire. The combination of this and her 100% grade in Muggle Studies led to the revelation that she wanted to do this for the rest of her life - study muggles. Her grandparents weren’t thrilled, spending weeks and weeks trying to talk her down. The compromise they eventually came to was: “you’ll be a secretary for some kind of muggle office, a secretary is a proper job for a respectable young lady to do.” Charity took it and ran, moving in with her uncle before they could change their minds. She applied for any business that had ‘muggle’ in the title as soon as she graduated, giddy with the right to decide her own destiny for once and spending every spare second pooling over muggle media. Of course, she knew a secretary was not expected to know much beyond typing - she’d learned that at the secretarial classes her grandfather had gifted her. But Charity Burbage would rather die than not be knowledgeable.

She sides with the order, but quietly. Her career is too important to her to involve herself in politics, having seen people being fired for doing such. She knows it hypocritical, to capitalise off of muggles and yet stand silently by while a threat to their freedom lurks. But she knows she’ll be of more help to them the higher up she climbs.

Wanted Connections: Twin Flame: The two of you are exactly the same. Or couldn’t be further apart. Either way, you fit together perfectly. The line between romantic and platonic are always a little bit blurred for you two, ready to do whatever the other needs. Charity doesn’t need her game face around you, she feels safe to say and do whatever she wants. Workmates: You both share the same passion for the muggle world and don’t do much else other than talk about it. You have witnessed to full front of Charity’s drive, and perhaps fallen victim to it too. Maybe you are closer to rivals than colleagues. Friends: You can put up with her arrogant appearance enough to get to the girl underneath. She would do almost anything for you, things you’d probably never expect from how she acts. You’re probably a muggle-born or half-blood. Maybe a pureblood with a good personality, but Charity has yet to find one of those. “Victims”: Despite her great desire for a relationship, Charity has little patience for dating. She can be elusive and detached and excruciatingly picky. She leaves a steady trail of peoples she’s hurt - sometimes deliberately - do you resent her for it?

#charity ・❥・every man gets his wish where’s mine?#charity burbage {introduction}

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beneaththetangles · 3 years

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Pretty Boy Detective Club, Episode 3: Beauty Redefined

The Pretty Boy Detective Club is founded on three rules: be pretty, be a boy, and be a detective. Only in this week’s episode, something revolutionary happened. President Sotoin Manabu revealed a fourth rule. And this rule completely transforms the series’ definition of beauty—and just maybe, mine and yours too.

Up to this point, Pretty Boy Detective Club seems to be winking playfully at the popular saying that beauty is only skin deep. The character designs and animation are pretty in that sparkly Shaft kind of way, with monumental white spaces, copious background statuary and dazzlingly bright-eyed, well-coiffed youthfulness. But the fourth rule unlocks a surprising depth to this bishounen world.

Nothing to see here folks. Just cleaning the statues.

The fourth rule is: be a team. Which makes sense, because this is a Club, after all. But it goes deeper than that and pretty soon it’s clear that this final rule is the one that all the other rules hang on.

It all comes together near the end of the episode, as Dojima Mayumi is approached by the villainous Rei and offered a payout in exchange for her silence about what she has seen. The terms are rather ambiguous, but the implication is that the clients Rei represents can make Dojima’s dream of becoming an astronaut come true.

Ah yes, the completely reliable vaguely worded promise from the anonymous kidnapper-turned-benefactor…

She turns the offer down decisively, not because she wants to tell anyone—she’s already made it clear, in confirming the Club’s confidentiality policy, that she does not want word of this to spread. She’s happy to remain silent. Instead, she declares in no uncertain terms that to accept the bribe would not be a beautiful way to live.

But what does this mean, exactly?

Dojima is quoting President Sotoin’s favourite phrase here, which he declared most recently with gallant exuberance earlier in the episode as he refused to save his own life at the cost of abandoning Dojima to Rei and the kidnappers. As it transpires, he had already set in motion an elaborate scheme, relying on the other members of the Club, to rescue Dojima (and himself) and capture the villains. So the implication of his statement is not simply that saving himself at another’s expense is not beautiful, but also that taking matters into his own hands and failing to trust in his team to come through would not be beautiful.

Dojima recalls this scene as she explains her decision about the bribe. It is her inspiration, implying that in her mind, the two situations are the same. Which they are, in that both pit the benefit of one against the fellowship of the team. It would not be beautiful for her dream to come true through her selfish pursuit of her own interests, by accepting a bribe and abandoning the aid of the Club. Just so, it would not be beautiful for her alone to benefit when it was the entire Club that solved the case.

She could have justified her decision without speaking about beauty though. Maybe it would even have made more sense to have told Rei, “That’s not right, it’s not moral!” or “I can’t be bought, I want nothing to do with you!” But her exclamation holding beauty up as her primary value shows just how much she has changed in her time spent with the Club members. Whereas before she snapped in anger when Sotoin remarked on the beauty of her eyes, voiced her resentment when Sosaku the Artist’s make-over made her look quite attractive, and even deemed Sotoin to be an idiot for choosing the “beautiful way of life” and not saving himself earlier in the episode—now she embraces the call to beauty.

I mean, she’s not completely wrong…But who ever said beauty is sensible?

This realization of the value of beauty is life-changing for Dojima. It gives her new purpose, just as her former dream exhales its last gasp. She petitions to join the Club so that she might learn what it is to live beautifully. What is more, if foreshadowing is a thing (and it is), this new purpose, walked out as a member of the team, is going to grant her much greater meaningfulness and joy than her ten long, lonely years of chasing her childhood dream on her own.

It will be something that enables her to step into the fullness of her special gifting as well (ahem, remember? her eyes are beautiful), just as it has done for the boys. Because you see, the announcement of the fourth rule suddenly clarifies what it is that makes each boy’s particular form of beauty so very beautiful. Hyota the Adonis’s legs are beautiful because they power his ability to cycle to the rescue of Dojima (in episode 2) and serve as the courier vital to Sotoin’s plan to foil the villains (in episode 3). Fukuroi the Epicurean’s delectable Chinese cuisine is beautiful because it nourishes the famished Hyota, following his exhaustive feats of sacrificial cycling. Nagahiro the Orator’s voice is beautiful not for its rich seductiveness, but for its imitative power, used to lull the kidnappers into a trap in order to free Adonis, Sotoin and Dojima. Meanwhile, Sotoin’s superior sense of aesthetics is grounded in value for community and unequaled vision—inspiring him to bring the Club together in the first place, conceive of a solution to Dojima’s troubles, and ultimately recognise Dojima’s potential as a new Club member despite her, you know, not being a boy. (Sosaku the Artist was basically on standby this episode, so he’s still a question mark at this point.)

Will Sotoin help Dojima discover how to use the power of her eyes beautifully, as she hopes?

In Western culture, we tend to apply an individualistic lens to our values. We speak of beauty as a state of being: something internal—inner beauty; and authentic—being true to yourself. It’s something you achieve as you find yourself, or make peace with yourself and who you are; or something that nature possesses innately, not being plagued by insecurity and the tendency to front, as are human beings. These are helpful insights.

But Pretty Boy Detective Club is proposing something quite different. The beauty of the Club members is active—saving a friend; it is transformative—inspiring a new dream, new hope, new purpose; and it is powerful for the forging of community. It comes to light most clearly in that fourth rule: be a team.

This isn’t a functional definition though, where beauty only has value if it accomplishes something. Rather, beauty accomplishes much because it has value. That is to say, because the Club members recognize the worth of living a beautiful life, they achieve outlandishly grand feats together, seemingly naturally. That is living beautifully.

Sotoin activates each member’s gift of beauty to welcome Dojima as the newest Club member.

What if we had such a value for beauty? Is such a thing even biblical?

A few (wonderful) books I read lately would say that it is. But that sadly, we have largely lost sight of the beauty of the gospel in a quest to make it relevant and marketable. In trying to make the gospel accomplish great things, or in trying to achieve great things ourselves “for the sake of the gospel”, we often cut beauty out of the conversation, adopting a functional approach so that outputs and impacts are easier to tally. Because beauty takes time, and sometimes it’s messy along the way. It’s unpredictable, uncontrollable, and it also requires trust, as Sotoin demonstrates.

But what does scripture actually say about beauty?

Here I’m reminded of probably the most familiar verse to reference beauty, from the Messiah’s introduction passage in Isaiah 61, where it says that he gives us “beauty for ashes”. This is part of a fairly long sequence of exchanges that the Messiah makes, to our benefit: freedom for imprisonment and captivity; wholeness for woundedness; hope for oppression; joy for sorrow; and beauty for ashes. Beauty is meant to be part of our daily lives as healed, restored children of God. But that’s not all: these blessings from the Messiah are not the end game, but rather only the beginning. They are preparatory, laying the groundwork for the most powerful exchange of all, as broken, defeated people become strong as oak trees, reclaim their agency and rebuild the ruined cities, repairing what has been broken about the world for generations. (Isaiah 61:1-4)

Beauty strengthens. It restores. It is part of our birthright, our inheritance—not just as individuals, but as communities, nations, and as humanity, drawing us together. Beauty equips us to dream and then walk those dreams out. It is a vital part of creation—and what good news that is!

I don’t know about you, but I hadn’t much considered this side of beauty before: its natural fruitfulness, its empowerment, and most of all, its ability to foster community. It took a team of Pretty Boy Detectives to open my eyes.

#Anime #Christianity #Pretty Boy Detective Club #Bishounen Tanteidan #Beauty #Articles #Author: cajk2

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raevenlywrites · 3 years

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The Ties That Bind 5 of ???

Prepping my guards to meet Zane was one thing; prepping myself...

I drew a deep breath, focusing on the way it filled my lungs, expanded my chest. Breathing this way mirrored the beat of my golden hawk’s wings, and did much to calm me. It was too great a show of nerves to display in my avian court, but out here, in the dark, with only my three fellow co-conspirators to see me--

It still felt like too much, but I was about to willingly approach Zane Cobriana, with his sister’s signet ring in my hand.

I’m afraid everything I have to offer you will be somewhat bloodstained.

Zane’s words had a way of replaying in my mind, again and again. He had a beautiful voice, rich in tones and timbre, and put to good effect. It was clear he was a man who was accustomed to addressing people, and to having those people listen. When I spoke to my generals, it was with a muddled mix of bargaining, pleading, and command I wasn’t certain would be heeded. When Zane ordered his people to back down, had they listened? Had that party Cadmia and her flight found in the woods really been an ambush? And if it had, was it with or without their monarch’s blessing?

And what would happen to them when their rulers finally returned?

Because for Zane to be waiting here, at this farmhouse on the edges of our respective territories, he must not have returned home to the serpiente palace yet. No, he had come straight to me, on Elanor’s wings, to deliver this engagement ring.

I think I could learn to love you, Danica, impossible as it seems.

Serpents love pretty things too, did you know that my lady?

I knew I was beautiful, with a finely crafted body colored in all shades of gold. The clothes my clever Elanor devised for me walked the perfect line between elegance and functionality, beauty and modesty. And Zane hadn’t been shy about admiring what her handiwork put on display--but was that enough? He’d suggested we both keep our own lovers; had he meant it? And in what possible capacity? The indolent serpiente might accept a figurehead queen while another woman grew round with their next prince--whether of Zane’s own get or his sister’s--but if I were to attempt such a thing? How would it even be done? An alastair’s oaths were some of the most binding of our peoples--and spoken from a royal tongue in the heart of Hawk’s Keep, even more so. I might literally lose some of my powers as queen if I became forsworn.

Of course, if we were no longer at war, my powers would no longer be needed on the battlefield.

But the gift to soothe and lightly heal with song was too important to be parted with. The Shardae sang strength to more than just soldiers--when there were more of us, we sang at every birth, every wedding, every sickbed, every funeral.

One for sorrow, two for mirth, three for a wedding, four for a birth...

“My lady?”

Elanor lightly touched my shoulder, startling me. The three of them had clearly felt the magic of my promise to them as future queen, and had doubtless been giving me the space to commune with my powers. But Elanor was right; the night was wearing on. And Zane was waiting. - The scene in the farmhouse was almost too surreal for belief.

Zane Cobriana, Arami of the serpiente, was serving as a yarn swift.

Hands held a careful width apart, he held the strands that Elanor’s aunt was quickly winding onto the noddy. It was clear she was working with a swiftness, but just as clear that it wasn’t from unease. It looked for all the world that she was simply trying to free him up from his woolen prison, so that he could attend to his proper duties as a monarch.

Zane looked as if his duties as a yarn horse were just as a pressing, and was giving the threads his complete attention, even as he sat relaxed in chair and chatted with the weaving women.

“And so the siblings chased each other across the sky, Kain pounding after his sister Kaya, who kept spilling fire as she ran, painting the sky with light, and earning outraged shouts from her brother with each drop spilled-- hold.”

That last was for his guard, the white viper from the camps. I almost surprised to find just the pair of them, instead of the entire entourage, but I was not surprised that this was the guard who stayed with her prince.

I’m sure you don’t expect me to come to you as pure as the driven snow either.

His guard could have been carved of ice, for all her hard strength and cold beauty. She’d gone from indolently bored against one wall to trembling bow-taunt just behind him. Her fingers hovered near her thighs, and the pair of knives strapped there. Her perfectly white hair bristled around her, like a cat making itself large in the face of threat.

Or like a magician raising power.

“I said hold, Adelina. You are not to strike someone who wears a Cobriana ring.”

Her gaze flicked to my hands, which were empty of jewelry and half-raised as one approached a wild animal. In fact it was Elanor who had carried the ring; I had not yet dared take it back from her. I wondered if that detail would prove to be a terrible oversight. Zane’s words had a similar of formality to the oath’s I exchanged with my people.

But Adelina’s gaze went from me to my two Ravens, with their full kit of armor and weaponry.

“My Arami--“

“Don’t, Addie. We’re all just here to talk.”

We were hardly just hear to talk, especially given his comments about the Cobriana ring. But Adelina dropped into what I could assume was a soldier’s parade rest, and I felt the men behind me release their own ready tension.

Of course, that didn’t stop them from flanking me as I stepped farther into the room.

I watched Adelina flinch, and felt us all react to her reaction. I bit back a weary sigh. How were we supposed to get anything done if all our attentions were on each other’s actions.

“Gentleman, he rode all this way to continue our peace talks.” I put heavy emphasis on the word “peace”. “Kindly stop treating this kitchen as a battlefield. Aunties Lyssia, thank you for opening your home to us. Arami Zane, thank you for coming to continue our talks. I am sorry the circumstances of them have been so inconvenient.”

Zane rose from his seat to give a smooth bow--though he never took his eyes off my guards as he did so.

“Good evening, Danica. Our dear aunties have been excellent hosts--and I’ve admired their works on our dancers.”

I blinked at that, caught utterly off guard. I know Elanor had mentioned trading food for fine cloth, but still. It had startled me--and from the look in Zane’s eyes, I couldn’t help but feel it had been meant to.

Suddenly, I was much less nervous. I was tired of being discounted, ignored, placated, and now made fun of? I was Tuuli Thea, and marriage to him or not, I would be queen, and I would be treated as such.

“Ladies Lyssa, is there somewhere I might talk to Zane in private?”

The protests all rose at once, reminding me too much of Mistari hall. I drew on the power of my voice to raise it above all the rest.

“I am Danica Shadae, heir to the Tuuli Thea. The only person in the room who is even remotely qualified to argue with me is Zane Cobriana himself. And as I believe he intends to propose marriage to me, it is within my right to demand a little privacy for this intimate moment.”

I admit to enjoying the shocked silence that followed. The look on Adelina’s face, however, made my blood run as cold as the icy fury in her winter blue eyes.

The Ties That Bind Tag list: @thehellinsideyourhead @therecouldbecolorsandlove @adventuresofacreesty

Raev’s Gen Tag List (should I tag you guys in this? It IS a thing I wrote. I’m gonna say yes unless you guys are like “no of course not we’re sick of hearing about your stupid fic for a twenty year old book XD)

List is currently: @lordkingsmith @writinglyra @drbibliophile @mperialscribe @adie-dee @lexiklecksi @writinginslowmotion @apollon-arium @raenawrites @adventuresofacreesty

#raev does fic #hawksong fic #kiesha'ra fanfic #the ties that bind #Hawksong #the kiesha'ra #zane cobriana #danica shardae #andreios

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hecohansen31 · 4 years

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Lately I love to imagine Michael teasing a shy gray at Outpost 3. But gently. Smiling at her, saying 'hello' when he is ignoring all the others, taking interest into what she is doing, touching her shoulder... Like the others, she wants him, but she is the only one who truly tell herself it will never happen, because he is too good for her and never tried anything or lied to him Because of it, she will be the only one he will take to the Sanctuary with him, but not before having some fun.

(A/N): Hello there, lovelies!

Thank you for sending in this request, I honestly love working on polar opposite couples, so I honestly loved working on these two and hope you’ll like what I wrote!

Also sorry guys if the next asks will take time, I have some written out but I am going to stop answering them chronologically, because it wasn’t helping with bieng creative/writing, so... I am sorry if some asks will take more time that usual!

(I also started studying for an exam so... I might be a bit off).

WARNINGS: Shyness, Two Dorks, Mention of Blasphemy and Threats.

You had always been shy, hence when you had found yourself to be a grey at the Outpost, you hadn’t been surprised and had actually accepted your position quite easily.

Although the people there were awful, you tried to be as invisible as your uniform, completely matching the horrid background of the dark hallways of the last shelter of survivors on Earth.

But no matter how much you tried to camouflage with the walls, Mr. Langdon seemed to completely find you anywhere.

You would be adjusting books in the library, sometimes some that you had snuck out to read in the dark of your room, and he would startle you grabbing a book over your head, and as you turned he would simply smirk at you, with a finger on his mouth, as if this would be ‘your little secret’.

One day you had been scrubbing the floor, after you had been blamed of having spilled the stew, whereas you had been tripped by one of the purples, and as you had looked up, seeing Mr. Langdon’s shoes, you had sent him an obedient look, hoping he didn’t want to punish you.

“Continue your work, little Grey” although his words were harsh, his tone held some kind of sweetness.

He had an allure to him that every outpost resident had noticed, but nobody had caught Mr. Langdon’s attention.

And as you had gone back to your work, you hadn’t found the stain where you had left it, as if it had been magically cleaned.

You hadn’t then understood whether you had been having hallucinations or Mr. Langdon had used some kind of magic to help you with your work.

Which seemed even more crazy than the thought of him being a magical being.

Why would he help a ‘good-for-nothing’ Grey?

Why chose you, when the Outpost held many and many rich heiresses and important models?

You were so surprised, but accepted his gestures, because you certainly wouldn’t have spit in the face of the only ‘alley’ you had inside the Outpost, and although there was a strict regulation against murder, you were well aware that inside of this, you were everyone against everyone.

And you weren’t certainly expecting to be chosen on the Sanctuary.

Hence you hadn’t courted or annoyed Mr. Langdon, you just tried to do your best each day, cleaning, scrubbing the floors and serving dinner, although you saw no reason why Mr. Langdon would need any of those things in his Sanctuary.

Then your interview finally came, and you weren’t able to stop being nervous, only calming lightly as Mr. Langdon welcomed you in, allowing you to sit, although you just wanted to run for the entire room in an effort to lessen the stress.

And your feet, unable to run freely, started moving up and down, in little kicks that bunched up lightly your dress.

It was childish but it seemed to focus your attention away from Mr. Langon, who, that day, looked even more handsome than usual.

He was wearing an elegant red velvet jacket and black pants, which wouldn’t have properly suited any man except one that was able to wear those clothes proudly as he did.

And he had also donned a bit of make-up, a strong red eye-shadow on his eyelids, outlining his profile and the blue of his pretty eyes, meanwhile his cheekbones were perfectly lined by the light in the room, lightly darker, but donning the man and the atmosphere of the room a sensual note that made you even more uneasy.

“Mrs. (L/N)” he snapped you back to reality and you smirked a bit dumbly, hoping you hadn’t lost yourself too much of his dialogue “… before we start, I’ll have you know that, here, lying or withholding the truth are not admitted, in this room, and in case you chose to apply those two strategies, I’ll leave you to die here”.

The cruelness of his words was enough to send you straight back to Earth, and you nodded, gaining a delighted smile by Mr. Langdon, as he got himself more comfortable on the chair, meanwhile you stood on the brink of yours, in a rather uncomfortable position.

But any position was uncomfortable if you were being mentally penetrated by such a handsome gentleman.

“Then I won’t hesitate much longer and start with the interview” he collected some papers on the table, more to keep his hands busy than for any actual use “… are you afraid of me, Mrs. (L/N)?”.

The question shocked you, and you honestly didn’t have an immediate answer for that.

You had gone through some of the questions he might have asked you: where you were born, what your parents did for a living, if you had a good relationship with your grandma… the usual things.

But certainly not that question.

“…I don’t honestly…” you started stuttering and calmly Mr. Langdon set down his papers, looking at you with a calm glance and muttering:

“Take your time, Mrs. (L/N), truth is more important than time to me”.

You couldn’t help but blush and immediately you shot your look to your hands.

You honestly felt like everyone was afraid of Mr. Langdon, and it would have been stupid not to be: he was a powerful man, playing with your destinies… but at the same time…

He had proved himself to be gentle with you, both the library incident and the stain one, showing that he had a softer spot, although he didn’t let it out.

“I don’t think that I should fear you, Mr. Langdon…” you admitted finally, gaining your voice but still looking intensely your fingers “…I am intimidated, certainly, but I don’t think that I fear you”.

“Intimidated?” he seemed fascinated by the sound of it “… why, Mrs. (L/N)?”.

“You are a powerful man… who… is in control of our destiny…” you set a look to the side, an elegant clock being hang there, unmoving but tick-tacking in your imagination “… only a fool wouldn’t be afraid of a man with such power”.

“A man with such power…” again satisfaction shone in his words “… do you think I am a god, little Grey?”.

You knew that he was messing with you: his tone had become softer, a velvet caress of teasing to your ears.

You blushed and couldn’t help but be a bit indignant, as you answered with a tone that fit your feeling, immediately regretting its harshness.

“… no you are not a god” you replied, witnessing his eyebrow scrunching together, alongside his nose and you couldn’t help but wonder whether you had said the wrong things “… God is an invention and you are pretty real”.

“Would you like to touch me to prove it, Mrs. (L/N)?” the proposal had something of extremely indecent in it.

You shook your head tight, your face extremely livid.

But Mr. Langdon tutted you lightly with his head, shaking it.

“You have been nothing but truthful, Mr. (L/N), don’t disappoint me now” and he raised lightly one of the arms of his jacket, revealing smooth skin, with light blonde hair on it, strangely standing at attention, as if he was having some goosebumps “… c’mon, touch me, I swear I don’t bite”.

His eyes seemed to also add ‘not if you ask’, but you tried to focus on his skin.

Softly pushing your hand on it, you caressed his wrist with your fingertips as if you were expecting to be electrified by that skin, so pure and soft, that it got a soft moan of surprise out of your mouth.

“I am real, am I not, Mrs. (L/N)?”

“You are made of meat, Mr. Langdon” you replied, pushing your hair away from your face, as you slowly retreated your finger from his skin, although you felt like they were again yearning for that contact “… but so are the best working illusions”.

“You have got quite the tongue” he replied, a look of fascination shining in his eyes as you tried to raise up your eyes to meet his, curiously attracted by him, again “… you may act like a little Grey, but you are much more, aren’t you?”.

“I…” again words were stuck in your mouth, filling it, unable to move away from the horrific feelings Langdon brought out of you “… I am scared that in my mind I’ll forever and only be a Grey for myself”.

“But in your soul?” he hit just the right spot, as if he knew perfectly where to dig to find the best treasure “… because what I look through, truly, in my interviews… are souls”.

He raised from the desk and moved away from it, circling it to come to you.

And you started trembling.

Whether for the anxious confusion or for the impatient interest he provoked in you, you didn’t know, but you were stuck there, although everything in you wanted to run.

Either away from him or to him.

He solved any doubts, making the decision for you, pushing himself onto his knees in front of you.

“I have seen some souls which are downright scandalous, the darkest of darkness inhabiting them, but most of them are grey, simple and meek, nothing memorable in their eyes and nothing magical, and you expect yourself to be one of those…” you nodded your head, as if it was a question “… but the truth is that your soul is delightfully colorful a myriad of different colors, one different from another, so bright and unique that everybody is unable to simply stare at you, they are admiring you, little Grey”.

And before you knew it, Mr. Langdon had dared to do what you had solely dreamt of doing each night, in your wildest dreams.

He kissed you.

You had expected him to be selfish and passionate, but he was tender and sweet, loving and attentive, as he tangled his fingers in your hair, meanwhile another hand went to join yours in your lap.

He proved himself to be exactly like you: more beyond what the eyes perceived.

“I have been looking through all Earth for a soul like yours, Mrs. (L/N)” he stated once you separated, the kiss having been chaste enough not to startle you, something for which you were grateful, since you didn’t understand whether it was a dream or just your imagination.

“Call me, (Y/N)” you replied, your hands coming slowly to his face to understand whether he was an illusion, or a man made of meat, and again smooth skin tickled your fingertips.

“Then you must call me Michael” he shot back, a small smirk easing on his face, genuine and true that made you understand you could trust him “Come with me at the Sanctuary (Y/N), you are the only one worthy”.

#Michael Langdon #Michael Langdon Reader #Michael Langdon x Reader #Michael Langdon Imagine #Michael Langdon Fic #Michael Langdon Ask #Michael Langdon Blurb #Michael Langdon Drabble #Michael Langdon Fluff #Fluff #Michael Langdon Angst #Angst #Michael Langdon Writing #Michael Langdon Moodboard #AHS Apocalypse #AHS Writing

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atruththatyoudeny · 4 years

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Monthly Reads | January 2020

Happy 28th! Time for some fic rec! Here are all the fics I read and loved this month. As always, all the love for the authors in this fandom ♥

✦ Foolishly Laying Our Hearts On The Table | runaway_train | friends to lovers - marriage proposal - pining - fluff - light angst - 11k “You think Harry wants that?” “Dunno. Maybe. Wanna make him happy.” Harry takes advantage of the red light he’s pulled up to turn and look properly at Louis’ face. He’s not even looking in Harry’s direction though, focused instead on something out of his side window, head drooped, mindlessly playing with the string of his hoodie between his fingers, lost in his own world somewhere. For some reason, it makes Harry’s spine straighten. “Because he’s your best mate?” Harry questions carefully. “He’s my boyfriend.” He couldn’t have heard him right. “What?” Louis releases a deep breath, still not turning around. Harry wonders who he thinks he’s talking to right now. “He’s so pretty. Want to kiss him all day long. And buy him a big house and give him presents and marry him.” Or The one where Harry is in love with his best friend Louis but doesn't think he stands a chance until some wisdom teeth and a rather unusual confession might just change his mind.

✦ We Can Go On Forever (When Everything’s Gone Forever) | jurassiclouis | a/b/o - mating rituals - fluff - 39k Harry spent most of his adult life focused on either his studies or his books - 5 of which he has already had published before he was 30. Immediately after completing his dissertation, he was offered a lectureship at Cambridge University where he’s been for 2 years now. This wasn’t the first time in his life that he had felt the incessant itch to know more about a subject by any means. However, this was the first time the subject had been an Omega.

✦ keep it sweet in your memory | Safetypinprince | cheating - emotional cheating - divorce - moral ambiguity - 17k 'How'd it go?' Harry pushes them into Niall's room and shuts the door behind him, so Georgia doesn't overhear. 'It was good. We just caught up, mostly... I may have done something a little stupid, though.' And Niall's eyebrows are in his hairline at that. 'I mean. Okay, so I invited Louis out on Saturday.' 'Saturday? Your--' 'Yes, my bachelor party...' and then Harry has to explain himself, 'I just felt guilty. I think. He was like. Telling me he wanted to hook up.' 'He WHAT!?' 'No. I mean, not with me. Like. He wants to go out and meet people.' 'He'll hate that. He's too much of a romantic.' 'Yeah, well. Whatever his name was messed him up a little, it would seem.'

✦ the way the storms blow | rbbsbb | friends to lovers - accidental voyeurism - pining - 21k Louis doesn’t have a habit of thinking about Harry’s dick. That would be weird, seeing as they’re best mates, and they share a flat, and they’ve spent holidays at each other’s family homes. Their friendship hasn’t ever risen to a point where Louis should want to see his mate’s dick, and he’s happy to keep it that way. Except, all that Louis can think about is exactly that. The size of it. The shape. The amount of people it’s been in. Maybe it’s the tequila talking, or the fact that Louis’ just recently walked in to an eyeful of Harry taking turns on some slags that he’s never seen before, but. Louis’ mind can’t stop obsessing over the idea.

✦ The Frying Pan and the Fire | embro | 22k Harry is a former child star who now works at a bar. Louis is an indie artist who wants Harry to be in his new music video. Harry is a grump and Louis is too chipper. Harry is straight and Louis is openly gay. Louis is determined and persistent and at some point Harry stops denying himself.

✦ But When We Kiss... | indiaalphawhiskey | PWP - age difference - Sugar Daddy - strangers to lovers - daddy kink - discipline kink - spoiling kink - 8k Louis only nodded, still smiling. “Right, okay. As much fun as this has been, I really doubt the lovely heated seating of my car will dull our banter. Or...” he dragged out the ‘r’, eyes mischievous. “Are you really going to let a…” he assessed Harry. “Twenty? Twenty year gap,” he confirmed. “Be the reason you get hypothermia? Is that really the hill you want to freeze on, Mr. Principled?” –– Or, while Harry and Louis adore the chase, they find they adore each other much, much more.

✦ thinking about the t-shirt you sleep in | nonsensedarling | a/b/o - emotional hurt/comfort - mutual pining - fluff - friends to lovers - 52k Harry's alpha fraternity donates to a local thrift shop (because of Liam's latent crush on a cute beta in his lecture). Louis' financial situation (and confusing omega instincts) lead him to make some interesting fashion purchases. Lots of pizza, feelings, and not-really-lying.

✦ beautiful sound beautiful noise | delsicle | Guardian Angels - strangers to lovers - famous/not famous - hurt/comfort - light angst - fluff - 53k Louis is a washed-up pop star who has spent nearly a year hiding away from the world. Harry is a guardian angel who is assigned to live with him for the summer. Neither of them quite get what they’re expecting.

✦ once bitten and twice shy | pinkcords | friends to lovers - enemies to lovers - Christmas - angst - mild homophobia - 19k This time as his stomach rolls, there’s no doubt about it. He’s going to vomit. And if he does, it’ll be on Louis’ shoes, a nice little parting gift to go with the embarrassment he’s caused the both of them. “I’m gonna throw up,” he says just as Louis turns to look at him, blue eyes swimming with shock and confusion, and asks, “Is that true?” Or, in a rush of bravery only senior year can bring, Harry confesses his feelings in a letter to his neighbor and best friend, Louis, only for the entire school to hear it and laugh him out of their small town in Wisconsin. Ten years later, Harry's a successful lawyer at Columbia Records, coming home for Christmas for the first time since he departed for college. He plans to work his way through the trip, eat his mom's cooking, and avoid everyone from his past for as long as possible. The only problem is best laid plans hardly ever go as intended.

✦ You Smell Like | mystic_believexx | pack dynamics - werewolves - human pack member - soulmates - friends to lovers - kid fic - scenting - 185k For her part, Jay took everything in her stride, barely batting an eyelid when Louis came into the kitchen the night Harry left and said, “I seem to have accidentally become the pack’s Alpha”. Ever since Harry left town, Louis’ found himself with the role of pack Alpha, despite being human. So he can’t wait to hand over the reins when Harry returns. Except, it’s not quite that simple… OR The one where Louis is the Alpha’s mate and everyone is aware of it except for Louis and Harry. Go figure!

✦ Strangers in Love | sweetums | slow burn - amnesia - car accidents - angst - light dom/sub - enemies to lovers - 42k Louis wakes up to find himself in a marriage with the last man he thought he'd ever end up with.

✦ Just Let Me Adore You | lovelarry10 | kid fic - fluff - single parents - famous/not famous - Christmas - strangers to lovers - 26k When Louis’ daughter presents him with a Christmas gift far beyond the price range of a four year old, he jumps to the worst of conclusions. He’s pleasantly surprised when he finds out how she isn’t as naughty as he thought she was, and who came to her rescue..

✦ Looking for something dumb to do | rainbowslovehl (Larrymateforlife) | meet-cute - marriage proposal - fluff - 4k Louis somehow gets coerced into accepting a challenge to propose to his crush. Somehow, the night doesn't end in a disaster.

✦ Meet Me Underneath The Mistletoe | 4ureyesonly28 | christmas - fluff - 9k Louis flies out to Chicago for business just before Christmas... His flight home is cancelled because of a snow storm and he ends up going to his colleague Niall's Christmas party where he meets the most gorgeous man he's ever seen. And if they end up under the mistletoe within less than an hour then that's nobody's business but theirs.

✦ Just Say Yes | GMTYUniverse | fake relationship - fake marriage - friends to lovers - university - 19k “Well, given that I’ve run all out of options - I’d like to propose,” Louis says with a sharp grin. ‘Propose what?’ Harry questions, frown on his face. ‘Honestly Louis, you’re in trouble here and we have to find a way that’ll allow you to stay. Now’s not the time to be cryptic.’ “I’m not being cryptic – I’m proposing, here.” He sits down on one knee and quickly fashions a ring out of the hair-tie he’s still got wrapped around his wrist. “Harry Styles – please marry me and make an honest, British citizen out of me.” -- or the one where Louis and Harry fake a marriage to keep Louis in Britain, and it's suspiciously easy, until it isn't anymore.

✦ Won't You Help Me Make This Wish Come True? | DuchessKitty16 | bucket list - grandparents - 13k Harry is determined to help his grandfather Richard get through his bucket list. Problem is, #3 on the list is to "propose to the pretty girl down the lane", who just happens to be the grandmother of Louis Tomlinson, the boy Harry had a crush on as a teen. Harry and Louis work together to make dreams come true and make a love connection between their grandparents. But will some magic spark between Louis and Harry along the way?

✦ Don't Call Me Angel | larryent | a/b/o - strip clubs - stripper/exotic dancer - 16k Manhattan is a dangerous playground for the rich and entitled Alphas of New York. Those same wealthy Alphas are robbed after spending one night in the presence of a blue-eyed Omega and Officer Styles is assigned to the case.

✦ i'll be yours for christmas | rina_a | christmas - fluff - 5k My family invited you to join our holiday meal as an obvious setup and i’m so sorry.

✦ The Goat Guy of Bethlehem | lululawrence | advent fic - christmas - fluff - humor - strangers to friends to lovers - 25k “What a pretty little thing!” a voice cried, catching Harry's attention. Harry looked up, assuming it was a merchant talking to Gemma or some other “citizen” of Bethlehem, but when he did, he found a woman with bright eyes and long dark hair walking over to him. “Me?” He wasn’t sure what to expect from any of this since she wasn’t a merchant he had met before. “Yes, you! I think you’d make a very good husband for my son. Are these your parents?” “Uh, yes?” Harry said, almost like a question. Robin and his mom just watched on with amusement, much to his chagrin. Turning to Anne and Robin, the merchant woman said, “I’ll give you six goats for the marriage of your son to mine.” Or every year, Harry and his family attend a church festival called Bethlehem. Harry's freshman year of high school Bethlehem expands, bringing in new vendors, including one that just might change everything for Harry. But first, he has to see if Anne and Robin are willing to part with him for the price of a few goats.

#fic rec #28th appreciation #my reads #my fic rec #larry fics

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venushasvixens · 4 years

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More Than a Maid - Phantom Manor Pt. 3

Keeping Ravenswood Manor tidy and presentable is hard work. Chamber maid Anna has kept to a strict schedule ever since she had started working at the manor for a number of years. Back then, it was just her and her brother, Jasper, taking care of the family and the manor. Over the years, Thunder Mesa had boomed, and so did the number of jobs. Yes, cleaning and cooking for a living seemed a little low for others, but for her, the pay was just more than money.

Having been accepted for the job for extra help for then baby Melanie, Anne came into the manor with the mindset that she was going to be working for a bunch of uptight snobs. She can clearly remember her first day of work. Jasper was still awaiting news from Mr. Ravenswood for the groundskeeper job, one that would suit him very well. Prepared for the worse, she was certainly taken aback from Martha Ravenswood warm welcome.

“Welcome, darling!” Martha exclaimed, beckoning Anna into the foyer. “Me and Henry are very happy that you’re here!”

“O-of course, Mrs. Ravenswood.” she stuttered, anxious about her first impression.

“Oh please, call me Ms. Martha. Ravenswood does sound a little demeaning, doesn’t it? And I am most definitely the least demeaning person here.” she closed the door behind Anna. “But I do say, wait for the intimidation to show up, he’s just coming in from a meeting.”

“I-i’m very pleased to be here.” Anna said, her grip on her bag loosening.

“As am I. Did the work agency let you know of little Melanie?” Martha questioned, motioning Anna to follow.

“U-uh, yes! I have had plenty of experience with little ones. Especially the little rowdy children.” Anna said.

Martha laughed. “They can be a bit of pain, yes?” she said, walking into the kitchen.

“Oh, but not my Melanie. I swear, I’ve never seen a baby sleep so soundly. Please do sit. ”

“Just like that? It usually takes a bottle and a bit of playtime.” Anna said as she sat down, setting her suitcase on her side.

Martha nodded. “The second I put her down in her cradle and she is snoring in no time. It must be the magic of the land the manor is built on that does that.” she chuckled lightly.

“Magic?” Anna enquired.

“I know it sounds mad, but it's true. There is something about this land that has a certain enchantment to it. It was almost like it was called to Henry, like it wanted us here.” Martha said. “Oh well, enough about that! Let me show you around!”

“And finally, the last spot of the grand tour, is Henry’s office.” Martha pushed the doors wide open, a gush of air hitting Anna in the face.

“Oh my, so many books.” Anna awed, clasping her hands together.

“You needn’t worry about cleaning those, he always has one of them in his hand.” Martha said, picking up a book. “One reason I accepted his proposal, he is a smart man. Smart enough to marry a lovely lady like me.” She smiled, poofing up her curly bun.

Anna laughed. “A smart man, indeed.”

The sound of the front doors closing alerted Martha.

“Henry, we’re up here!” Martha turned to Anna,”If he seems a bit curt with you, he is just tired, nothing personal.”

“A bit personal if you are in my study, touching my things.” he spoke back from the stairs.

Anna had impressed Martha, and now it was time for the man of the house. Would he be tough but fair, or rude and demeaning? The doors to the study opened, and in walked Henry.

The man had his small case in hand, a bit of a jaunt in his step. He placed it down on the ground and set his hat on his desk. He gave Martha a small peck on the cheek.

“You could’ve greeted me in the parlor.” he said quietly, still waiting to acknowledge Anna. “You know how I love to see your sweet face after a long day.”

“Oh how flattering. Darling, this is Anna Jones, our new chambermaid.” she said, placing her hand on Anna’s back.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.” Anna said, sticking her hand out for a handshake. Henry’s gaze met Anna’s, his dark eyes staring straight into her soul. Anna noticed the small tremble in her hand, relaxing before anyone could notice.

“Pleasure’s all mine, Ms. Jones.” Henry said, gently taking Anna’s hand into both of his, and shaking it. “I’ve heard good things about you. And I trust you met my Melanie?”

“Yes sir. But I’m afraid that she’s asleep.” Anna replied.

“Oh let me go get her. I’ll tell you, she has the prettiest eyes anyone has ever seen.” Henry hurried out of the room, Martha following him.

“Sweetest, don’t wake the baby, she’s napping!” Martha’s voice trailed off down the hallway.

Shifting where she stood, Anna looked around the room. She noticed just how neat the room looked. There really was no need to tidy this room. From the top of the drapes, to never used before fireplace, not a speck of dust. It was still beautiful though, the deep mahogany furnishing reaching into the ceiling. Anna walked over to the huge windows, looking at a perfect view of the gardens. The workers outside were planting rose bushes, as well as some baby trees. How nice it is to be rich, Anna thought.

“Here she is! My pride and joy.” Henry announced, holding Melanie tenderly in his arms. “Melanie, my flower, wake up.” he gently nudged her.

The little baby sleepily opened her eyes, yawning. She looked around the room, her eyes growing just a little wider in bewilderment, cooing.

“Always so surprised, she is.” Martha said, rubbing the back of Melanie’s head.

“Curious is the word I’m looking for, just like her father.” Henry replied, taking Melanie over to the windows by Anna. He lifted her in the air, making silly noises. Melanie giggled, reaching towards her father.

“Look Melanie!” Martha pointed to Anna, “that’s your new friend!”

Anna smiled at Melanie, smiling and giving a tiny wave to her. The baby looked at her new friend, her eyes widening further. Henry moved closer to her.

“She’ll learn to like you, I promise.” he said. “She just has to warm up-”

Suddenly, Melanie reached out, wanting to be held by her, her tiny hands trying to grab onto Anna.

“Oh nevermind.” Henry chuckled, passing her over. “Well that was quick.”

Melanie’s head laid softly on Anna’s shoulder, cuddling into her, a small smile spread across her small face. Anna laughed quietly, patting her on the back.

“That is certainly a good sign.” Martha beamed, “Welcome to the manor, Anna.”

Smiling at the memory, Anna finished preparing the afternoon tea for Mr. Ravenswood. She quickly placed the sugar and creamer on the tray, and made her way up to the study. Mrs. Ravenswood was in town with Melanie shopping, and wouldn’t be back for some time. That and to get away from Mr. Ravenswood.

With a boom in Thunder Mesa, Henry was very, very, stressed. And with stress, came frustration and anger. It could be as simple as a spoon falling and the man would blow his top. Anna did try her best to steer clear of his tantrums, and it worked pretty well. That was because she brought him food, which calmed him some.

“You saved my life again, Ms. Jones, thank you.” he would say every time she came in with his meals. It was a bit odd though. He wasn’t very nice to the other house staff, excluding Jasper. Henry would always ask for Anna, even when she was terribly busy with cleaning or cooking. Did it feel nice to be always called on? A little, yes. Meant she wasn’t being forgotten underneath the growing number of workers in the house.

Making her way up to the top of the stairs, she felt the cool breeze of the study doors opening.

“Ah, there you are! I’ve been waiting for you.” Henry said, his arms crossed.

“I’m so sorry, sir. It won’t happen again.” Anna said, rushing into the room. She quickly placed the tea tray on the side of the desk.

“It's alright, just a bit quiet and lonesome today.” Henry replied, chuckling. “With all this business cooling down some today, I got a little used to the noise.”

“Me as well, I’m missing it. I’ll say this now, and just wait, it’ll come back tenfold.” Anna smiled, pouring a cup.

It got a bit quiet after, and a little awkward. She expected Ravenswood to say something back, but he didn’t. He walked back to his desk, rearranging paperwork and tidying up. The quicker she placed his afternoon snack and drink, the sooner she could go back and relax. When he was alone like this, it felt okay to make conversation, but with Martha? Absolutely not. It felt like she was intruding on their time together, even when she was cleaning. Anna had never been married, just courted. She didn’t have time for love either. It was sad to say that her work consumed her life. Did she want what they had, the safety and love of having a partner to get through the hardships of living? Yes. She wished for it everyday. But it wasn’t written in the stars for her.

“Anna, can I ask you something?” Henry said, his deep voice making her jump.

“Yes sir?” Anna turned around, her hands folded.

Henry looked down, twiddling with his pen. It was a bit out of character for him to do that. The great businessman known as Henry Ravenswood, strong and stern, twiddling and fidgeting before the house maid.

“Do you know why I always call on you?” he mumbled, his eyes fixated on the pen.

Anna thought for a moment. “Because I know how you like your tea.” She placed the cup on the desk.

He chuckled. “That was close. But its because..” Ravenswood got up, and slowly headed over to Anna.

“Now promise me you won’t tell anyone I said this, but its because you’re different from the others. You know how to carry on in a subject, and how to improve it. You give me a laugh with your wits. It brings me some peace to my hectic mind. Martha can’t really do any of that with me. Its like I always offend her in some way, or she just doesn’t understand what I say.” he confessed.

Anna was very surprised by this. It seemed they got along well, but it looks like they didn’t. It warmed her heart. She brought him something to put his mind at ease.

“Including that and you’re just so..” Taking a step closer, he glanced at Anna, and anywhere else but her eyes. “So beautiful.”

“T-thank you sir, I’m flattered.” Anna said shakingly, both scared and happy at his comment. She dug her nails into her hands.

“I swear, when I first saw you, I thought I might had seen an angel, radiating a breath of fresh air into my home.” he said lowly. “How can I be so sure you’re not a vision?”

Blushing, Anna extended her hand. “You can shake it. I’m flesh and blood, I promise.” she smiled.

Henry looked at her hand, a blank expression covered his face. It seemed like an eternity before he took her hand into his. Instead of shaking it, he gently took the knuckles of her hand, and kissed it gingerly. It was as if he was afraid she was going to burst into a thousand pieces, like she was going to break.

“You’re real.” he whispered, rubbing the spot where he kissed. “I can attest to it.”

Anna gave a small laugh, Henry smiling. They both built up the courage to look at each other, their fears starting to slip away.

“W-well, I believe I must go back to work.” Anna headed to the door, fiddling with her apron. “Is there anything you may need before I go, sir?”

Henry sighed, looking around. She glanced at his desk, then at the door, and finally at him. He took cautious steps towards her, his hand lifting her chin. Anna looked into his eyes, watching his expressions change in a matter of seconds, not deciding on which face it did. Slowly, he leaned down, his lips meeting Anna’s. She closed her eyes, kissing him back. She could stay like this, had it not been for her heart pounding in her chest and the threat of someone walking in. He pulled back, his touch leaving her. A bit disappointed, he walked back to his desk, sitting down.

“I believe I have everything I want, thank you, Ms. Jones.” Henry smiled.

Anna smiled back, and opened the door. Closing it behind her, she stood on the other side for a moment. She wanted to savor it, live in it just a while longer. Happy with her new secret, she giddily walked down the stairs. She giggled like a school girl who had received her first kiss. A sense of thrill ran through her arms and legs, getting ready to zap out of her fingertips. I want more, she thought. More of his embrace, of his presence. But at the same time, it felt wrong. That was her boss, a married man. She did not contribute to that marriage or to raising Melanie. Oh what if Martha found out? Melanie could’ve walked in on that. She would destroy a union, and traumatized their most prized possession. Another part of her said, who cares? As long as she kept it a secret, there would be no harm done. Easy as that.

She was so distracted, she didn’t even notice Jasper sitting at the kitchen table. He was frowning, sweat dripping off of him.

“Oh hello! How was work outside? Do you want a nibble of something or maybe some water-”

“What did you do?” he cut her off. Anna froze. Suddenly, she remembered. Those wide windows of the manor looking into the gardens where Jasper worked, large enough to see the ongoings of Ravenswood’s study. Its not much of a little secret anymore. Damn.

“Anna, what did you do?”

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douchebagbrainwaves · 4 years

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THE COURAGE OF PROJECT

Then when you start a startup anywhere. That's why mice and rabbits are furry and elephants and hippos aren't.1 The very design of the average site in the late twentieth century. He got a 4x liquidation preference. Google, it's hard to get into grad school in math. Can we claim founders are better off as a result of this new trend. Where you live should make at most a couple percent difference. But investing later should also mean they have fewer losers.

They make something moderately appealing and have decent initial growth.2 If you major in math it will be whatever the startup can get from the first one to write a paper for school, his mother would tell him: find a way to turn a billion dollar industry into a fifty million dollar industry, so much the better, if all fifty million go to you. The classic yuppie worked for a small organization. Before us, most companies in the startup funding business. The best way to get a big idea can take roost.3 4 or 5 million. This essay grew out of something I wrote for myself to figure out how to increase their load factors. But you can also apply some force by focusing the discussion: by asking what specific questions they need answered to make up their minds. This plan collapsed under its own weight.4 Startups happened because technology started to change so fast that big companies could no longer keep a lid on the smaller ones.

The only place your judgement makes a difference is in the industry.5 People who do great work, and it's a bad sign when you have a special word for that. One of the exhilarating things about coming back to Cambridge every spring is walking through the streets at dusk, when you can see into the houses. If you have steep revenue growth, say over 6x a year, no matter how many good startups approach him. Recently we managed to recruit her to help us run YC when she's not busy with architectural projects.6 This works better when a startup has 3 founders than 2, and better when the leader of the company in later rounds. I'm not saying you can get away with zero self-discipline.

We're not a replacement for don't give up. What you should not do is rebel. But while series A rounds from VCs. Someone who's scrappy manages to be both threatening and undignified at the same world everyone else does, but notice some odd detail that's compellingly mysterious.7 Even Tim O'Reilly was wearing a suit, a sight so alien I couldn't parse it at first. They can't tell how smart you are.8 The story about Web 2. Maybe one day the most important thing is to be learned from whatever book on it happens to be closest. This essay is derived from a keynote at FOWA in October 2007. They'll decide later if they want to raise.9

Sometimes it reached the point of economic sadism: site owners assumed that the more pain they caused the user, the more benefit it must be to them. It's cities that compete, not countries.10 Kids are curious, but the best founders are certainly capable of it. But investors are so fickle that you can fix for a lot of time on work that interests you, and don't just refuse to. But you have to be an insider.11 A key ingredient in many projects, almost a project on its own, is to step onto an orthogonal vector. So ironically the original description of the Web 2. Back when it cost a lot to like I've done a few things, like intro it to my friends at Foundry who were investors in Service Metrics and understand this model I am also talking to my friend Mark Pincus who had an idea like this a few years ago.12 0 seemed to mean was something about democracy. We didn't have enough saved to live on. There is another reason founders don't ask themselves whether they're default alive or default dead.13

So most investors prefer, if they wanted, raise series A rounds. They're unable to raise more money, and precisely when you'll have to switch to plan B if plan A isn't working. That doesn't mean the investor says yes to everyone. Miss out on what? It's so cheap to start web startups that orders of magnitudes more will be started. Investors evaluate startups the way customers evaluate products, not the way bosses evaluate employees. The bust was as much an overreaction as the boom.14 Startups are undergoing the same transformation that technology does when it becomes cheaper.15 Another way to fly low is to give them something for free that competitors charge for. After all, a Web 2.16 He bought a suit.

Instead you'll be compelled to seek growth in other ways. They all knew their work like a piano player knows the keys. But consulting is far from free money. They say they're going to get eliminated. What does it mean, exactly? If investors were perfect judges, the two would require exactly the same skills. And to be both good and novel, an idea probably has to seem bad to most people, or someone writes a particularly interesting article, it will show up there. The mere existence of prep schools is proof of that.17 So far the complete list of messages I've picked up from cities is: wealth, style, hipness, physical attractiveness wouldn't have been a total immersion. Don't just do what they tell you to do. But advancing technology has made web startups so cheap that you really can get a portrait of the normal distribution of most applicant pools, it matters least to judge accurately in precisely the cases where judgement has the most effect—you won't take rejection so personally. If raising money is hard.

There is no sharp line between the two types of startup ideas: those that grow organically out of your own life, and those that you decide, from afar, are going to get rarer. While some VCs have technical backgrounds, I don't know enough to say, but it happens surprisingly rarely.18 Most subjects are taught in such a boring way that it's only by discipline that you can never safely treat fundraising as more than a startup that seems like it's going to stop.19 It sounds obvious to say that you should worry? One reason startups prefer series A rounds? When I was in high school either. If you feel you've been misjudged, you can do. Google. Of course, someone has to take money from people who are young but smart and driven can make more by starting their own companies after college instead of getting jobs, that will change what happens in college.

Notes

Though they are themselves typical users. But it takes to get good grades in them to private schools that in three months, a valuation. Giving away the razor and making more per customer makes it easier to get them to stay in a time machine.

Apple's early history are from an angel investment from a mediocre VC.

In the beginning.

Plus ca change. But on the other.

And that is exactly the point of a stock is its future earnings, you now get to go behind the scenes role in IPOs, which allowed banks and savings and loans to buy it despite having no evidence it's for sale.

However, it will seem dumb in 100 years. Digg is Slashdot with voting instead of blacklist.

Sofbot.

I write out loud can expose awkward parts.

I've become a so-called signalling risk.

Hint: the way they have because they couldn't afford a monitor.

And it's particularly damaging when these investors flake, because there was a new search engine is low. They have no connections, you'll find that with a wink, to take care of one's markets is ultimately just another way in which income is doled out by Mitch Kapor, is to raise money after Demo Day, there would be easy to discount, but I'm not against editing. As one very successful YC founder told me they like the one hand and the exercise of stock options than any preceding president, he tried to shift back. At three months we can't believe anyone would think twice before crossing him.

Progressive tax rates has a significant startup hub. He, like speculators, that alone could in principle 100,000 sestertii apiece for slaves learned in the early adopters you evolve the idea is crack. As we walked in, we love big juicy lumbar disc herniation as juicy except literally.

It's sometimes argued that we didn't, they thought at least accepted additions to the modern idea were proposed by Timothy Hart in 1964, two years, it was cooked up by the National Center for Education Statistics, about 28%. I've come to accept that investors don't like the bizarre consequences of this essay talks about programmers, but I know of no Jews moving there, and should in some ways First Round excluded their most successful startups are competitive like running, not the original text would in itself deserving. This is not whether it's good enough at obscuring tokens for this type are also several you can't even claim, like play in a city with few other startups, because time seems to pass. Please do not try to avoid that.

This kind of people starting normal companies too. If Ron Conway had been raised religious and then using growth rate to manufacture a perfect growth curve, etc, and then a block or so.

But it is to trick admissions officers. I meant. The mere possibility of being harsh to founders. As he is at fault, since 95% of the class of 2007 came from such schools.

I started doing research for this purpose are still, as they are now. There was no more unlikely than it would be easier to say that it is dishonest of the next round, that suits took over during a critical point in the usual standards for truth. Wittgenstein: The French Laundry in Napa Valley.

It wouldn't cut their overall returns tenfold, because they wanted, so the best ideas, they mean statistical distribution. The original Internet forums were not web sites but Usenet newsgroups.

A doctor friend warns that even this can give an inaccurate picture. At some point, when the problems you have no idea what's happening till they also influence one another directly through the window for years while they think they're just mentioning the possibility is that in Silicon Valley. I find hardest to get rich by creating wealth—wealth that, isn't it? Look at those goddamn fleas, they have less money, the big winners aren't all that matters, just as if you'd invested at a famous university who is highly regarded by his peers.

Compromising a server could cause such damage that ASPs that want to pound that message home. He, like arithmetic drills, instead of blacklist.

Thanks to Tim O'Reilly, Peter Norvig, and the guys at O'Reilly for inviting me to speak.

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clericofthebalance · 4 years

Text

Life Needs Things to Live, Chapter Three

Class was going to be less of a struggle for Percy today. Percy settled into his seat in his MW Lit class, one of his final core classes until he could fully focus on what he needed to graduate. This was the only class he absolutely had to take at the university, something he couldn’t sub with community college classes for a much cheaper rate.

Only one thing made this class tolerable given the 8 AM start time and boring material. He glued his eyes to the door, sipping his thermos of coffee, waiting patiently. Finally, she floated in.

Long dark hair captured in a braid, the most beautiful smile he had ever seen, warm eyes that brought flames and autumn and the forest to mind. She had a sharp and wickedly clever look to her face, joy radiating off every movement and gesture, unique to her very bones. He adored how she wore blue feathers woven in her hair, how piercings lined her ears, how she emphasized her expressive eyes with perfect eyeliner, how she always had a giant zoology book under her arm. She was beautiful and clever and just shone in the depressing classroom.

Fuck, he was pathetic and weird. He really needed to get over his crush and focus on his life, not idolize some poor woman like she was his manic pixie dream girl. Ugh.

Percy focused on his book, thinking about the two applications he had handed off yesterday. One to Gilmore, to work the counter in his coffee shop, the other to Keyleth for the apartment. Hopefully, good things would come of it. They both hinted that he would be accepted.

Maybe Asum could come visit soon, see Beau again. It would be nice to see his old friend and savior. To have something to celebrate rather than to mourn.

“Alright, class, we’re going to do a project instead of a final paper. You’ll be working in assigned pairs to create a presentation and paper on a modern version of any classic novel and how it compares to the source material. Your initial proposal is due to me in one week. I’ll call out your assigned pairs now.”

Percy grimaced, praying he’d get someone tolerable that would do their share. He couldn’t handle working with a freshman who left everything to him again. He would commit murder.

“Percival and Vex’Ahlia.”

Wait, what? He stared at Professor Shura blankly and she pointed to the back. At his crush. Oh, shit fuck. He was going to humiliate himself.

***

Vex stared at her notes, blanking out. She hated core classes. This English class was her absolute last one and it was a misery. She wished she was out at the zoo or in a lab. She only wanted to read what she wanted to read. Not this shit. She sighed.

“Um, excuse me?”

She started and looked up, flushing at the quizzical brow and brilliant eyes on her. The guy standing over her was hot. White hair in a messy undercut, heavy brows, a strong yet elegant jaw. It was the eyes that got her, though, blue as a winter sky and shining with intelligence. Vex easily mustered her most charming, most flirty smile for such a pretty guy.

“Yes, Darling? How can I help you?”

The questioning frown lifted into a slight smirk, cocky and charming and matching his posh accent, one full and pale eyebrow going up, “Well, we’re partners on our final project according to the professor.”

“Project?”

“Oh, you checked out, too? Apparently we have to do a presentation comparing a classic novel to a modern adaptation while analyzing universal themes,” he rolled his eyes. His unfairly pretty blue eyes, “And we have to work in pairs.”

“Shit! I have labs to do! I thought this would just be a paper I could bullshit.”

“I was hoping for that as well,” he dropped into the seat next to her, looking unfairly comfortable in his formal slacks, a neat button up, and a tailored vest in royal blue. No tie, but he did have a black turtleneck underneath. A little odd for a college student and very high class goth, but whatever. He was still hot as shit.

“Vex’ahlia, but you can call me Vex.”

He tilted his head, chuckling, her knees going weak as the earrings up his ears sparkled in the fluorescent light of the classroom, “Percival de Rolo, Percy.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Percy Dear.”

“An even greater pleasure to meet you, Miss Vex’Ahlia,” he leaned forward with a charming smile, “So, exchange work and class schedules? Find a time that works?”

“Schedules? You are a fancy one.”

“I have to plan every minute or I would crumble under the load,” she laughed as he pulled out an honest-to-goodness planner, “Yes, it’s color coordinated. I was not joking about my life.”

“Okay, okay,” she giggled, grinning, “I get it. Your girlfriend must keep you busy.”

“Oh-I-Uh-No,” Percy’s pale skin flushed and she noticed some light scarring around his eyes. It almost looked like droplets, light pink against the lovely red of his cheeks, “I don’t have a girlfriend. I just work two jobs, a double major with a minor, and a lot of responsibilities.”

“No girlfriend? Really?”

“N-no. Oh, my phone is ringing!”

She barely held in her laughter at the Star Wars theme coming out of his backpack. Vex ran her eyes over his profile, appreciating the fine jaw and strong nose, the disheveled hair and two-day scruff, the delicate metallic glasses that gave him a distinguished look only emphasized by his elegant outfit. An outfit she could tell had seen quite a bit of wear judging by the precisely stitched repairs and fabric fade. His phone was also an older model, older even than her three generations behind smart phone. So, he was posh but maybe not rich. Just particular about his clothing.

Damn, but he was a fine specimen of a man, his voice soft and refined and lovely. She wanted to pin him down and see how far that lovely blush went.

“Oh, shit,” he sighed, looking absolutely devastated at whatever the person on the line was saying, “Well, good thing I put in a few applications. It’s fine, ma’am, you don’t have the time to keep the place open anymore. I had a feeling this was coming. Take care and keep me updated. I’ll be just fine. You know me.”

He hung up and rubbed his temples, pushing the glasses up, “Sorry about that. Former job.”

“That’s fine. Are you okay?”

“Oh, I’ll be fine. This doesn’t even make the top ten of worst things to happen to me,” Percy smiled, but still looked strained, “So, free days?”

“Wednesday after 3 and all weekend except for Saturday morning. Me and my housemates are interviewing a potential new renter.”

“Oh? I’m inter-wait, do you live with Kiki? Keyleth?”

“Yeah, I do! Are you her Percy?” Vex lit up at the prospect of getting to spend more time with him and leaned over to look at the organized but packed schedule. Shit, he wasn’t kidding, “That’s an insane coincidence. She’s told us all about you and Beau. I work at a café just down the street from the house, Laina’s. We could study there or at the house. And you could bring Beau and Pepper along.”

“Honestly, that would be great. I actually just put in an application at Laina’s,” Percy smiled back, “I really appreciate the offer. You sure you don’t mind?”

“Only if you don’t mind my dog.”

“Deal,” he offered his hand with a wink, beaming, “I-Thanks.”

“Not a problem, handsome,” he flushed to his ears, those spots standing out once more against the red, blushing at her new nickname for him, “So, we can meet up around 4 at Laina’s and I’ll see you Saturday? I see you’re free from 4 to 7 tonight.”

“I’ll be the one with the black Zemian Shepherd and small child.”

“Sounds great,” she winked, gathering her things, “I’ll see you then. I need to get to my next class.”

“B-bye,” Percy was frozen, flushed, and staring at her like she was the most gorgeous thing in the world. She strode off with a confident swing to her hips, head held high, and a triumphant grin. A study date with a handsome man and his babies. Hopefully, she and Beau would get along. Kids usually liked her. Then, she could hunt down that sexy shy bastard.

But first…

She dialed Vax as soon as she was outside the building, knowing his first class wasn’t until noon and he was off this morning, biting her lip.

“What’s up, Stubby?”

“Morning, shitbird. I met the potential roomie today. He’s apparently in my lit class and we got assigned a project together.”

“You sound entirely too chipper for this early.”

“Well, he’s absolutely gorgeous and looks like a good guy. He got fired while we were talking and didn’t even react. Was just as pleasant as before the call. I liked him,” Vax made a disbelieving snort, “Really! He color-coordinates his schedule. It’s absolutely adorable.”

“Are you thinking with your head?”

“Yes! I promise, you’ll like him. His phone is older than mine and he has definitely patched his clothes a few times.”

“Fine. I’ll go a bit easier on him.”

“On that note, I’ll be studying at Laina’s tonight. With him. While you’re working. I’ll get Grog to walk me home.”

“Wait, what?”

She hung up with a smug smirk. That would drive him crazy all day.

#Vox Machina #fanfic #percy de rolo #Vex’Ahlia #Vax’ildan #Keyleth #pike trickfoot #scanlan shorthalt #grog strongjaw #tiberius stormwind #beauregard lionett #college!au #modern!au #first meeting #twoo wuv #fluff

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noona-clock · 5 years

Text

Confusion & Coincidences - Part 10, Final Chapter

Genre: Regency!AU

Pairing: Yongguk x You

By Admin B

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10

During the rest of your walk with the Earl -- Yongguk -- he explained that he had written his apology letter because he could tell you had been bombarded, basically, and he had wanted to explain why he had proposed so suddenly. He had also wanted to assure you he took your rejection seriously and would not try to pursue you further.

Also, he added, he was just much better at expressing his thoughts in writing than he was using actual, spoken words.

You, in turn, had admitted you’d found him extremely handsome upon first meeting him... but had sadly mistaken his shyness for haughtiness and had, therefore, written him off almost immediately.

Of course, you had also apologized immensely because you now felt ashamed and guilty for doing so.

“Do not ever feel guilty for judging someone based on their appearance,” Yongguk had assured you, a bit to your surprise. “We all do it, whether or not people actually admit to it. And besides, no matter your first impression of someone, if things are meant to work out, they will work out.”

But then he had asked you what changed your mind about him. You had thought him to be haughty and snobbish; when did your thoughts change?

“Well,” you had sighed. “I’m... not entirely sure. Both Alice and Mr. Kim told me you were simply shy, so that made me realize you hadn’t been rude. And when you didn’t insist on holding my books for me at the bookstore, I thought how very unlike any other gentleman you were. But... I believe my mind was entirely changed when I woke up and saw you sitting next to my bed while I was ill.”

“...After you had already accepted my proposal?”

You’d nodded timidly. “I did like you when I accepted, of course. Especially when you shared what your idea of marriage is. That sounded so heavenly to me, and I knew I was making the right decision. But... I’m not sure. I guess seeing you there, knowing you would quite literally be by my side through thick and thin... At the very least, I knew you were not just marrying me because I’m a fairly pretty face. Because I know I most certainly was not pretty with a raging fever.”

Yongguk had chuckled and, despite your protests, he’d assured you that you had still been beautiful. Just sick and beautiful.

Eventually, the two of you had made your way back to your house, and Yongguk had declared he needed to travel back to London for business. He’d urged you to write to him and let him know what plans you came up with for the wedding.

“I am at your service entirely,” he’d murmured before placing a kiss on the back of your hand. “Just tell me when and where, and I shall be there.”

You’d tilted your chin in the slightest of nods, your eyes fixed on his lips. His kiss on your hand had only reminded you of his kiss on your lips, and boy, had those kisses been divine.

Your mother had come outside to bid Yongguk good-bye with you... and then she had immediately begun with talk of the wedding.

Surprise, surprise.

The following two months were, unsurprisingly, a blur. Your mother bombarded you with wedding planning, even though you insisted on a very simple ceremony. You wanted to invite only your closest friends and family, and you would rather not make a big deal out of it.

Yongguk had assured you many times that you had full control over any and every decision, but you knew he would rather take part in a small, intimate wedding, as well. The two of you were ridiculously similar, as Mr. Kim had pointed out all those weeks ago.

Because you stayed in the country with your parents and Yongguk stayed in London (where you would reside after the wedding), the two of you began a quite regular correspondence.

You had found your fiancé did a better job than he gave himself credit for when it came to expressing himself face-to-face. You’d never heard him talk so much as he did when you’d been on your walk, the day he’d explained why he had proposed.

But then you read one of his letters, and you understood what he meant when he said he expressed himself better in writing.

When his first letter arrived, your brow furrowed deeply upon seeing how many pages he’d written.

What could he possibly have to say that would take up that many pages?!

So you shut yourself up in your bedroom, determined to find out.

After only half a page, you realized Yongguk was helping you get to know him. He was basically writing his life story, and you found you were too intrigued to stop reading. It’s not like anything particularly exciting had happened to him - he’d experienced a fairly normal childhood, adolescence, and proposing to you had seemed to be the most riveting part of his adult life so far - but the way he wrote... you were simply transfixed.

He truly did express himself better in writing.

In turn, you wrote about your life in your response letter, sending it to him the very next day. Both of your letters from then on were more conversational, though his did have some subtle romantic themes sprinkled in here and there. They made you blush every time, and you kept those letters hidden in a special, locked box.

Overall, you exchanged almost thirty letters each in the span of two months. Your mother expressed her envy a large number of times, complaining that your father never wrote her letters.

“My dear, we live in the same house,” your father reminded her. “If I want to tell you something, I can simply tell you. There is no need to write a letter.”

“But letters are romantic!”

You giggled behind your piece of paper as they squabbled over the topic of writing love letters.

A few days before the wedding, you traveled to London. The ceremony was taking place in a small church in the city, and Yongguk had also invited you to dine with him.

You’d never been to his residence before, so you figured he wanted you to see your future home at least once before you moved in later this week.

The moment you stepped inside, your jaw nearly unhinged itself from your mouth.

You had never seen a home so grand; but it wasn’t uncomfortably grand, either. It was just... really, really, really, really nice. I mean, you knew he was rich because your mother had told you he was, but... you didn’t know just how rich.

But you were very, very curious.

So you waited until after dinner, wanting to ask the question with some privacy. Your mother would probably box your ears if she heard you asking about money. She would most certainly want to know, too, of course, but it was impolite to ask.

It couldn’t be impolite to ask your future husband, though!

When Yongguk murmured that he earned around 8,000 pounds per year, you almost gasped.

Eight. Thousand. Pounds?!?!

Your father made nearly three thousand, and you’d always felt your family lived quite comfortably.

But EIGHT?!

You could buy as many books as you wanted!

And now you understood why Yongguk had offered to pay for every single part of your wedding - and why your father had let him (though he still begrudgingly let him).

When your family left that evening, Yongguk managed to steal a good-bye kiss, and your lips positively tingled until well after you went to bed.

You wondered if it was because you were still very much new to kissing or... would it always feel like that? When he kissed you?

And you also realized the next time you shared a kiss with him... you would be married.

Your wedding turned out just the way you’d envisioned it.

Small but absolutely lovely. Your dress was the most beautiful dress you’d ever worn, and Yongguk looked even more handsome than usual in his well-tailored, green velvet jacket. (Later, you would ask him why he had chosen green velvet, and he would admit it was because of your green dress that first time you met.)

But the best part of your wedding?

Well, first of all, Yongguk said ‘I do’ with a half-smile tugging at his lips. And, second of all, when you said ‘I do,’ you felt not even a hint of hesitation or doubt.

You were still not sure if you were in love with him, but you had absolutely no regrets whatsoever about marrying him. You were the opposite of regretful, in fact. You were quite optimistic!

Although... there was one thing which did make you nervous.

Last night, your mother had come to your room and had given you...

The Talk.

She explained what usually happened on a wedding night, and much to your slight horror, she also said this is how a woman begets a child.

“So, it happens that night,” you’d stated with a furrowed brow.

Your mother had done her best to hide a laugh. “Not usually, my dear. It depends on timing.”

“Well... then... you do it more than once?”

“Certainly! Some people have ten children, lovely.”

“So -- that’s happened ten times?!”

“More than ten, I am sure. A woman does not become with child every time she... engages in that particular activity with her husband.” Your mother had raised her eyebrows then, and added in a scolding voice, “And it should only be with your husband. Never another man, do you understand?”

“What?!” you’d cried. “Another man?! Why would I want to do -- that -- with someone else?!”

It sounded strange enough that you would want to even do it with your husband, but... you would reserve judgment until the time came.

So, yes. You were nervous about that. Quite nervous.

But once the ceremony was over and Yongguk took you back to your new home and you realized you could now kiss him as many times as you wanted...

Well. We’ll just say you eventually understood fully why you would want to do that with your husband.

One Year Later

A soft groan escaped from the back of your throat when you heard a deep voice mumbling your name.

“Y/N,” it said in a sing-song tone. “Y/N.”

And then, seemingly since you hadn’t yet opened your eyes, you felt a soft kiss on the back of your shoulder.

And then one on your neck... your jaw... your cheek...

“Y/N,” Yongguk whispered against your skin.

You groaned again, though you did move your head just a little.

You had always been one to wake early, and for the better part of a year, you had risen from bed before your husband six days out of seven. But apparently, growing a child inside of you was quite a bit more tiring than you had ever imagined.

You’d just figured out a few weeks ago that you were pregnant, and suddenly, all of the nausea and exhaustion (and two missed monthly courses) had made so much sense.

(Also, you had an urge to tell your mother that she had been right. You had definitely not become with child every time you engaged in that particular activity with your husband. Because you had engaged in it... quite a number of times within this first year. And you were only now pregnant with your first child. But you would refrain from informing her of this. Of course.)

“I have a surprise for you,” Yongguk continued. You felt his hand begin to rub up and down your arm, and your eyebrows raised.

“Mmm?” you hummed.

“But you have to open your eyes, my love,” he murmured.

You tilted your head in a very tiny nod before moving to stretch and open your eyes.

And when you did open your eyes, you saw your husband sitting up in bed next to you, holding a book.

“What is that?” you asked, now feeling a bit more awake.

He opened the cover so you could read the title page.

“Mansfield Park,” you read quietly. “By the author of --”

You gasped.

“Sense & Sensibility and Pride & Prejudice?!”

A smile tugged at Yongguk’s lips, and you quickly moved to tackle him back onto the bed.

“Oh, you are the loveliest person I have ever known!” you praised, kissing all over his face as you lay on top of him. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

Yongguk was laughing - that cute, adorable laugh you only ever heard when you smothered him with affection - and your heart was soaring.

“Do you know much I love you?” you asked in-between nose and forehead kisses.

“Yes, I do,” he chuckled before he carefully rolled you off of him. “Now, start reading, already!”

“Okay, okay,” you giggled. You took the book from him and settled down, nestling against him. He put one arm around your shoulders, cradling you as you flipped to the first page, and the other arm around your waist. He, of course, laid a protective hand on your stomach.

Before you started reading, you turned your head to look back at him.

“I know you said you know how much I love you, but I do love you very, very, very, very much.”

Yongguk pressed his lips into your temple, and you could feel them curving into a smile. That smile of his which still made you fall in love.

“I love you very, very, very, very much, too,” he murmured. “My darling, my heart.”

Your nose scrunched happily at his terms of endearment, and then you turned back and began reading the first line out loud.

Many times during your first year of marriage, you had thought back to Pride & Prejudice. You’d been reading it when you first met your husband, so it was only natural.

You wondered quite often what married life had been like for Lizzy and Mr. Darcy. They had grown to love each other quite fervently, so surely theirs was a happy marriage.

But, no matter how happy their marriage, you always knew with a great degree of certainty - yours was happier.

Much, much happier.

moodboard by @bangyongguktigger 💖

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jahaanofmenaphos · 4 years

Photo

Art by the awesome @tommieglenn!

Of Gods and Men Summary:

When the gods returned to Gielinor, their minds were only on one thing: the Stone of Jas, a powerful elder artefact in the hands of Sliske, a devious Mahjarrat who stole it for his own ends and entertainment. He claims to want to incite another god wars, but are his ulterior motives more sinister than that? And can the World Guardian, Jahaan, escape from under Sliske’s shadow?

Read the full work here:

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QUEST 09: OUR SPIRITS, KINDRED

QUEST SUMMARY:

When Ariane is kidnapped and the signs point to Sliske, Jahaan is forced to confront the Mahjarrat once again. But this time, things take a turn for the twisted, and Jahaan uncovers the truth behind Sliske’s obsession with him. Can Jahaan survive Sliske’s games? After all, broken bones heal faster than a broken mind...

CHAPTER 1: GRIP OF THE GODS

High above the clouds, Armadyl and his avianse were housed in a temporary cloud fortress that they had erected upon their return to Gielinor. The Empyrean Citadel was unsuitable for housing their numbers, after all. That, and it had been tainted by Sliske’s presence. So, they had to build themselves temporary lodgings, for you can’t exactly spread the avianse across the bed and breakfasts of Misthalin. It helped that the avianse were known for being skilled carpenters. One wouldn’t think that upon looking at them, but never judge a book by its cover.

Looking out towards the horizon of a new dawn, Armadyl stood in quiet contemplation. He’d been trying to work through the turmoils of the last few years in solitude, taking to meditating at the break of day. While doing this, he’d organise his current stresses and plan ways to deal with them by prioritising the most pressing issues and working backwards. He didn’t want to worry his generals by showing just how much it was eating at him to be back on Gielinor. When they’d first arrived on Gielinor in the Second Age, they were escaping their homeworld of Abbinah, looking for peace and community in a pure world that was rich in resources, a world that would allow them to prosper without the threat of constant storms and hurricanes raging above, a world that didn’t require ritual sacrifice of the elderly to relieve the burden on the young.

Gielinor was that perfect world.

Now, it was being ravaged by war, just as it was many centuries ago. Those who forget the past were doomed to repeat it, and Armadyl was not going to let what happened to his avianse on that fateful day ever happen again.

Now, new issues had arisen, namely his ‘prize’ of inheriting the vast majority of Bandosians after he’d slain their god. Honestly, he didn’t expect that to happen. Not that he didn’t welcome the challenge of teaching a new group that there was a way of life beyond war, a way of life instead driven by peace and justice. But undoing eons of Bandosian indoctrination had left him with his hands full. Understaffed and unprepared, Armadylean forces had been stretched thin.

And then, Armadyl had heard about the fate of the Dorgesh-Kaan.

The guilt of being unable to prevent this genocide, one execuated in his name, was clawing at his heart.

Kree'arra entered onto the balcony, tentatively calling out, “My lord?”

Shuddering, Armadyl tried to briefly take the Dorgesh-Kaan out of his mind. Turning to the general, he attempted a warm smile. “Come, Kree'arra. What news do you bring?”

“Nothing positive, my lord,” Kree'arra regretfully admitted. “The situation in Ardougne is growing worse by the day, and our scouts are no closer to finding Sliske and your Staff.”

Armadyl wasn’t disappointed. Not really, anyway. In both matters, he’d expected as much. The reports had plateaued, and he didn’t expect much of an improvement anytime soon.

“Kree'arra,” Armadyl’s tone was resigned, yet resolved. “If the situation here on Gielinor continues to deteriorate, I am not putting my people in harm's way by remaining. We shall depart this world and find somewhere else to nest, with or without my Staff. Power is nothing if my people are lost, like I thought they were all those years ago.”

“But where would we go, my lord?” Kree'arra asked, softly. “We cannot return to Abbinah.”

“Of course not, but I have an idea… it may be a long shot, yes, but we might be able to save those left behind on Abbinah, and create a new home for all of the avianse. Say, Kree'arra… what do you know of Tarddiad.”

Furrowing his brow, Kree'arra replied, “The homeland of the elves? Little, my lord. It is known as a land covered in trees.”

“And mountaintops, waterfalls, lush vegetation…” Armadyl added, growing in excitement. “I have a plan. Seren cares a lot for her elves - she’s a compassionate being, kinder than all the other gods I have encountered. Our people are skilled craftsmen and healers, so we could help her people in numerous ways. If I can persuade Seren to share the skies of Tarddiad with us, we needn’t ever want for resources or stability ever again. We would be safe, Kree'arra!”

His frown deepening, Kree'arra averted his gaze from the diety’s. Armadyl had always been a dreamer, but Kree'arra found himself to be a pessimist by nature, always hating to ground the idealistic musings of his god. “That would be wonderful, my lord… but do you really think Seren would give up part of sovereignty over Tarddiad to us?”

“It would take some convincing, yes,” Armadyl accepted. “But I shall discuss the idea with her upon our next encounter. Hopefully she will see the merits in my proposal.”

Turning back towards the horizon, Armadyl’s tone was wistful, yet determined, as he said, “I will find a home for us, Kree'arra. I will save the avianse…”

***

It was a dreary Essianday in Lumbridge, but as Essianday was the Saradominist holy day of the week, church was in service. Father Urhney, an irritable priest, was leading the congregation. Never in a good mood, the wild-haired priest detested being back in the town of Lumbridge, having moved into the swamps to the south not so long ago in an attempt to spend two years in silent meditation and prayer. However, every time someone bothered him with conversation, he forced himself to start over. Hence, he was a rather grumpy fellow.

Since the end of the Battle of Lumbridge, the town’s residents - usually devout Saradominists - had been attending services less and less, meaning that the coffers at the front were a lot lighter than usual. Considering this was how the priests gained an income in the town, it was a worry for them all, even those who had isolated themselves in a swampy shack.

The reason for the drop in attendance was due to a rise in Godless and Armadylean supporters who had turned from Saradomin after the Battle of Lumbridge was concluded. Turns out, not many people care to have their town demolished and the deity they pray to walk away without so much as an apology.

The priest that usually ran the quaint little service was Father Aereck, a frail and subdued man, who was not well equipped to deal with the challenge of regaining Saradominist support in Lumbridge.

Because of this, Father Urhney forced himself from his little shack and ventured back into the town to take over regular services. Today was his first one, and word had gotten around about his return, so the church was a lot fuller than normal. It turned out that a lot of people had questions they wanted answered, and Father Aereck was not doing the job for them, so they made the most of utilising Father Urhney’s time.

But upon hearing the white noise of chattering, questions, demands and a few stray insults, Father Urhney regretted his life choices. Irritably shaking his head, he raised his hands in an attempt to calm the congregation.

This achieved nothing.

Gritting his teeth, he squinted his eyes tightly and exclaimed, “Please, one at a time! Saradomin only has two ears, and so do I.”

Fortunately, that was enough to subdue them, but it wouldn’t last long. So, capitalising on the silence, he motioned to a man in the front row, one of the rowdier members who was chomping at the bit to speak.

“Why should we follow Saradomin anymore?” the man asked, a loaded question if there ever was one. “He left our town in ruins. I heard about this Armadyl guy - he seems to be a stand up fella, preachin’ justice and peace and all that.”

“He went to war with Bandos in open conflict,” Father Urhney countered, rolling his eyes. “Not very peaceful if you ask me. But yes, before you say it, Bandos was a threat that needed to be neutralised. He’s dead now. Zamorak is still out there, causing chaos. He’s invaded Ardougne! Where’s Armadyl now? He’s left those people there to fend for themselves, whereas Saradomin has sent his forces to battle the dark Zamorak head on. Peace can only be achieved once Saradomin takes his rightful place as the only god in Gielinor. There is a pattern to the ascendance and collapse of civilisation - a cycle of tragedy. Saradomin has the knowledge to break this cycle, and most importantly, the will to lead everyone forwards. Gielinor, and other worlds, would be brought into a new age. A utopia. Other gods can claim this, but only Saradomin has the experience necessary to make it happen. Alas, utopia must sometimes be built on bones, so let the lesser gods be the foundation. Then, Saradomin can lead everyone to a glorious future!”

“Lead? You mean, he wants to control everyone?” a disgruntled man in the second row called out, earning a few concurring nods and mumbles from the rest of the attendees.

Father Urhney tried his best to keep his tone measured as he replied, “You say that as though it were a bad thing. People need governments, leaders and structures. Just as freedom doesn't mean anarchy, control doesn't have to mean slavery. Saradomin offers guidance and leadership, law and order. Under his 'control', people could thrive. Everyone would have the reassurance that they know where they belong and how they should behave. Deep down, everyone wants to know where they sit in the world. What you call control, I would argue is true freedom. Freedom to know how life should be lived and how to fulfil one’s potential.”

“I heard from my niece in Ardougne that there’s a Mahjarrat-y fellow running around with one of them there elder weapons! He’s gonna use it to destroy everyone!”

This statement came out of nowhere, interrupting the contemplative quiet that had arose following Father Urhney’s response. For all his personal foibles, Father Urhney was incredibly devout and the conviction from which he spoke could turn even the most stubborn of heads.

But now, that peace had been ruined, and naturally, the congregation went into panicked uproar. Some of the Lumbridge folk were rural and quite traditional in their beliefs, but they knew enough to decide that the Mahjarrat were bad, and one having an Elder Weapon was worse. Of course, this was a gross oversimplification, one that a lot of Mahjarrat would take umbrage to, but the public perception was hard to change, and Sliske running around with the Stone of Jas was doing little to help matters.

The lack of Saradominist Mahjarrat didn’t help either.

Having heard Brother Samwell’s tale of Sliske, Icthlarin and the Empyrean Citadel, Father Urhney was a lot more knowledgeable on what was really going on in the world in comparison to his congregation. Deciding that giving at least a little bit of context could assist in both settling the nerves of the churchgoers and prove that he and his fellow priests were in-the-know, Father Urhney once again silenced the crowd and said, “Calm down, everyone. If you let me talk, I can quell some of these exaggerated rumours. Now, firstly, yes, there’s a Mahjarrat who has the Stone of Jas, and-QUIET! For Saradomin’s sake, can you let me finish?! Yes, the rumours are true, but Saradomin is fighting to get the Stone back into his safekeeping, and he WILL succeed. He will take the fight to all the other gods, and this Mahjarrat, and the Stone will be his once again. That’s why he needs your support!”

“Why Saradomin?” one of the men at the back piped up, pushing off from the wall he was leaning against. “Why not another god, or heck, how about NO god?”

“The Stone will fall into someone’s hands, it cannot simply go no-where and belong to no-one,” Father Urhney grumbled, shaking his head with an irritated sigh. “Saradomin has wielded the Stone before, wisely and with care, and he shall do so again. Can you say such of the others? The dark Zamorak would use it to destroy the world; Zaros would enslave it to his will, and grow more dangerous than ever; Armadyl has no idea what to do with such power, and would destroy himself with his naivety; and Seren would use its power only in support of her precious elves. Saradomin, on the other hand, will use its power with wisdom and compassion, for the betterment of ALL life on Gielinor. Now, are there any more questions?”

Once he saw almost every hand in the room shoot up, it took everything in Father Urhney’s power to not storm out and end the service early.

***

The dragonkin were a race of powerful and intelligent dragon-like creatures that originated from the previous cycle of the universe, a handful of them having survived the revision of the universe by hiding in the Abyss. The surviving dragonkin sought out Jas for mercy or retribution, only to end up being bound to her Catalyst - the Stone of Jas - and were tasked with protecting it at all costs. When the Stone was used by a being other than Jas, they were cursed to feel great pain and suffering that could only be eased by violence and rampage. Thus, tales of the dragonkin speak of a malevolent and dangerous species.

There were two factions of the dragonkin on Gielinor. The first, the Dactyl dragonkin, who repress the urge to cause destruction and kill 'False Users'. Instead, they undertake research and perform experiments in an attempt to sever their connection to the Stone of Jas. The other faction were the Necrosyrtes, a war-like faction comprised of those who have given into their urge to cause destruction. Kerapac belonged to the former, and had dedicated his life to ridding the dragonkin of Jas’ curse.

On this night, Kerapac was found huddled over one of the journals he was writing, locked inside his cramped and dimly lit study. He and his fellow draginkin had been forced from their home at the heart of Daemonheim when Bilrach tunnelled deep into its depths. Realistically, they could have fought off any intruder, but were against revealing themselves to the world at such a time. In fact, if Kerapac had his way, they would still be an unknown presence in Gielinor. Unfortunately, Sithaph and Strisath had taken matters into their own hands, succeeding at retrieving the Staff of Armadyl (momentarily) but falling short of safeguarding the Stone. After all, they didn’t have the power to teleport the Stone to safety by themselves. They were brutes, weaklings - kath, as they were known in the dragonkin language. And thanks to them, the world knew about the existence of the dragonkin.

Kerapac had self-proclaimed himself as the ‘Observer’, watching over the affairs of Gielinor with patience and detachment. Until now, that is. With Sliske’s slaying of Guthix and bringing back the gods to Gielinor, the world was in upheaval, and Kerapac could sense the disturbance beneath him. The Elder Gods would awaken soon, they would hatch their spawn, and so the universe would restart once again, just like it did eons ago. Kerapac sensed it then, and managed to hide some of his people away… but he knew he would not be so lucky this time.

But while they were still bound to the Stone, there was very little the dragonkin could do.

Kerapac knew that the time for observation was over, and he formulated a plan. Many plans, in fact - Kerapac was not a being to leave much to chance. If successful, this latest idea would leave the Elder Mirror in his possession. The Elder Mirror was used by the Elder Gods for large-scale creation, being able to create copies of things. Currently, the dragonkin had tracked down its location to a being known simply as ‘V’, the god of the Fremennik people.

As of now, V had kept to himself, choosing to isolate himself and his people from the current affairs of the other deities, along with the chase for the Stone of Jas.

Kerapac had no qualms about killing him. He’d slaughter civilisations if it meant his fellow dragonkin could finally be free.

Other such plans had yet to return positive results; no dragonkin had managed to locate Sliske, as of yet, and the search for the other Elder Artifacts wasn’t going so well. Twelve were known, but only a handful were even obtainable. The Siphon and the Catalyst - colloquially known as the Staff of Armadyl and the Stone of Jas, respectively - were in Sliske’s possession. The Locator, also known as the Crown Archival, was able to find other Elder Artifacts, though only ones of considerably less power. It would prove incredibly useful to any deity, and indeed to the dragonkin, but it was currently held by Saradomin, who Kerapac knew had too much power and support to take on directly. Others, such as The Kiln, were useless to the dragonkin, only used for creating TokHaar workers to shape the world. And then there were the artefacts that were lost to time and space, those that may not even be on Gielinor, such as The Codex and The Template. Kerapac only knew of their existence due to his past proximity to the Stone of Jas, something that granted him knowledge most mortals could only dream of.

So many artefacts, so many gods, so little time.

But for now, Kerapac kept writing in his journal, documenting his work to save his people from the curse brought upon them by a being as old as the universe. If it meant killing a god, or numerous gods, he would do so. If it meant challenging Sliske directly, he would do so. If it meant laying down his own life so that his descendents could live without suffering, he would do so.

***

The small study Sliske had carved out for himself was dimly lit in the glow of only two candles. It made the knife-work he was undertaking much more of a challenge, having to refrain from slicing off his own fingers with the sharp blade, but this helped him focus more, to concentrate on the task at hand instead of letting his mind drift to unwanted realms. Unfortunately, that suffocating feeling always managed to creep inside, rattling with voices that were always his own, always familiar, yet simultaneously alien.

The voices had been there since he was young, and he’d managed to keep them a secret from the rest of his tribe. Except from his brother, that is, who was the only one he could confide in at such a young age. These voices didn’t worry him, and from what he’d gathered from his time amongst humans, many of them were subject to the same conditions.

Perhaps Mahjarrat are susceptible too? Perhaps I’m not the only one?

He didn’t know, and venturing such a notion would have led him down a rabbit hole, perhaps even to the Marker.

So, they were kept a secret.

Well, for the most part; Relomia - Sliske’s emissary, someone who often lurked in Sliske’s lair whenever the Mahjarrat would permit company - had often heard her master mutter to himself when in the depths of deep thought, conversing with himself like he wasn’t the only one in the room. It troubled her, to hear some of the things her master would say, but she didn’t dare confront him, for he might not take too kindly to the notion she had been eavesdropping all this time.

Whittling wooden masks was Sliske’s favourite way to de-stress; whenever he felt overwhelmed by anything and needed to clear his mind, or simply narrow it enough to fix a troubling part of a plan, he would take a knife and carve theatrical masks. Some of them he would enchant, for the humour in it, but the vast majority he would burn.

There was never much subtlety or nuance in Sliske’s masks. For a being that prided himself on being unreadable, his wooden creations undercut that entirely. Sliske had already carved eight masks this evening alone and was working on his ninth. This mask, however, was blank. Not that he had yet to carve an emotion into it, but the mask itself portrayed emotionless.

“You’ve been waiting for this your entire lifetime,” Sliske growled lowly to himself. “If you don’t act now, it may be too late. Gods know you have a target on your back…”

“You shouldn’t have told him. You should have known he would betray you.”

“Why did you tell him? Why did you think honesty would get you anywhere? It never has and it never will.”

“He went behind your back. He was never going to fulfil the agreement.”

“Why did you think he would be any different?”

“You thought you could reason with him? Bargain for something so precious? You fool.”

“What is wrong with you?” he hissed with disgust, causing his knife hand to slip and accidentally slice his into his thumb. The wound wasn’t deep, but claret still trickled across the mask’s face, dripping through the eyehole and into a small puddle beneath him. “He wouldn’t be persuaded so easily. Be reasonable. Plan A was a longshot - you knew that. So, you’ll just have to do things the hard way...”

After a few more minutes of bloodstained whittling, Sliske held the mask up to admire his handiwork, though instead regarded it with nothing more than a heavy glare of disinterest. He tossed it into the corner.

Rising to his feet, he walked over to the pile of masks he’d accumulated over the last few months. It took up a fair bit of space; Sliske was holding off on burning them until he could justify a bonfire. “Everything is ready. Soon, he’ll be ready too. A few hours and it’ll all be over. You’ll be safe, forever. It’s what you’ve always wanted. Immortality is within reach, so don’t let those ridiculous notions of yours get in the way. After all, you’ll forget him in time.”

He reached among the pile and found a mask with a wicked sneer carved into it. Holding it up to his face, he mimicked the expression inside the mask. “Yes, it won’t be long now…”

DISCLAIMER:

As Of Gods and Men is a reimagining, retelling and reworking of the Sixth Age, a LOT of dialogue/characters/plotlines/etc. are pulled right from the game itself, and this belongs to Jagex.

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#armadyl #kerepac #sliske

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castielgurl · 5 years

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Come Into My life Chapter 9

You can read full chapters in Ao3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/13693443/chapters/46987432

Omg, I finally updated this fiction for over year now! Well enjoy

Ivan was trying to talk to his wife. He doesn`t want Natalia to get married because he wants to use her to get more money. But Mary knew she could not do anything if Natalia agreed to accept Steve's proposal.

Natalia did not know what to do. She was surprised by Steve's sudden proposal. Natalia hopes that Steve was joking and not serious about the proposal. But Natalia realized she had no other choice because she certainly did not want to go home because of Ivan. And Mister Rogers will be charged in court. She's feeling guilty because Steve has helped her a lot.

But Natalia thought she was still young and still had not finished studying. And most importantly how can she deal with Mister Rogers as a wife? And Steve does not love her. And she also doesn`t love Steve. Is Natalia able to fulfill her responsibilities as a wife? Natalia did not know much about marriage. She never is in a relationship.

"I should stop thinking about this because Steve might not want to marry a woman like me," Natalia said to herself.

******************************************************************************************* Scott called Steve suddenly. He was in a panic. He was at the police station after reporting the incident of Natalia almost kidnapped. Scott believes the man who tried to kidnap Natalia was Ivan.

Scott urges Steve to immediately marry Natalia. Because Ivan certainly will not stop irritating Natalia. Nat heard the conversation between both of them. Now Natalia sure Steve is serious about his intentions.

Nat is studying in the room. Selena entered her room carrying a box. Selena asks if Natalia is in good condition or not. Nat is still uncertain of the decision whether she wants to get married or not.

"Natalia, Mister Rogers only got good intentions. You do not need to be concerned about him. He was sincere in wanting to propose as his wife. What causes you to doubt with the intention of him?" Selena asks as she sits on the bed.

"Because I felt embarrassing. Without him, I don`t know what will happen to me. He has paid a lot of money to my parents. How do I repay him?” Natalia answer

"Nat, don`t worry, I'm sure Mister Rogers doesn`t mind, he just wants to help you, I know him very well, from outside he looks cold, but in his heart, he is a very loving and noble person. Only these are fates determined by God. “Selena said as she stroked Natalia's hair.

"I'll think about it again, because I'm just worried about my mother, even though she's still my mother," Natali said he was grateful for being met with Mister Rogers, Scott, and Selena.

Selena says she's packing the late Mr. Joseph's room. She carried a box in her hand but the box was detached from her hand. All the items in the box are scattered on the floor. Natalia helps Selena re-insert the item into the box. Natalia then picked up a piece of picture embedded in a diary book. It was Steve's photo with a brunette. They look like a couple who in love. The woman was very beautiful, like an angel. Who is that woman? Could she be Mister Rogers's girlfriend?

Selena realized that Natalia was holding the picture. She kept taking pictures from Natalia's hand.

"This is an old picture, belonging to Mr. Joseph." Selena immediately inserted the picture into the box and left.

Later

Selena tells the story to Steve.

"Steve, this picture is keeping by Mr. Joseph, I'm sorry for, Natalia has seen this picture I don`t know how to explain to her," Selena said with guilt.

Steve did not expect his father to keeps the picture. Steve doubts that his father approved of his marriage and Peggy. But Steve now has to be honest with Natalia about who Peggy was.

******************************************************************************************* That evening, Scott took Natalia to eat at a restaurant. Scott tells Natalia about Steve's wishes.

"Nat, you need to tell me honestly what do you think about Steve?" Scott started the conversation

"Mister Rogers? He's a very good guy and helped me a lot." Reply Natalia

"I do not mean that I mean do you like Mister Rogers?" Scott said as he was eating.

"I don`t know what I feel, I'm still a kid, I`m not sure I understand what I felt about him” Natalia revealed

"Steve asked me to convey his wishes. He wants to make you as a wife." Scott was finally straightforward

Natalia was uneasy

"It's okay, you don`t have to answer now, you can think of it first when you're ready, you give Steve an answer." Said Scott

******************************************************************************************* Natalia did not know how to make a decision. She wants to see her mother. Because her mother was the only family she had. Natalia wants to ask her mother's advice. Natalia's mother did not welcome Natalia. Mary and Ivan stay at the hotel until their case is finished.

"Why are you coming here? You now have a rich man who takes care of you. Was he?” Mary said cynically

"Mama, I want to marry soon, I want to thank you for taking care of me since my childhood. I'm sorry that I hurt your feelings and left you.” Natalia was sobbing

"Oh please stop with this nonsense drama! You don`t have to thank me, you should forget about me, you are going to marry a rich man, you're not my responsibility anymore." Her mother said with a harsh tone.

"Mama, I have one request, please don`t ask me to forget you. You are my mother, I love you." Natalia said as she knelt. She hugs her mother.

But her mother did not respond. Natalia was crying because it was probably the last time she met her mother.

After being disappointed and saying goodbye to her mother. Natalia is ready to give Steve a decision.

*******************************************************************************************

"Why are you standing there? You want to say anything to me?" Steve saw that Natalia looks uneasy

"I want to tell you that I'm going to follow any Mister Rogers plan. If it's for my goodness" Natalia continues to run into her room as she hopes Steve understands the point.

Steve was speechless.

The next day, Steve invited Natalia home from college. She was cannot believe it because she was usually invited by Scott.

Mister Rogers says he wants to bring Natalia out to eat together. Because they need to talk.

Natalia felt puffed up because Steve did not say anything. She drank water from the flask. Steve took the flask from Nat's hand.

"Why do you keep drinking water when I'm with you?" Steve looked at Natalia, who looked restless

"I feel shame, and I don`t know what to talk to you" Natalia did not know what to say

"I want to talk about our marriage and I need to be honest with you about the very important thing. The woman in the picture you saw was my wife." Steve said

Natalia was surprised by the disclosure. She did not know that Steve was married.

"My wife is studying in the UK, she is not here, we do not live together anymore, it's very complicated, I wish I can explain everything to you but I can`t” Steve doesn`t want to talk about all the details’.

"If you were married, why would you want to marry me?" Natalia feels strange

"I and my wife are in the process of divorce but I want you to know we are married because I do not want you back home, I do not want Ivan to touch you anymore. I'm going to help you get out of your terrible life until you are safe and able to self-reliance. One day you have to be brave against Ivan and your mother I want you to focus on your lessons." Steve explained at length.

"Well I understand but I don`t understand why you want to help me? You can just ignore me. There are many girls need help out there.” Natalia ask question

"Natalia thinks this as, I'm helping you because of my dad, at least this is the kind thing I can do, I believe if he's alive, he'll want me to help you, but you need to know, I'm still in love with my wife. I just want to know that I never threat you like are wife. Don`t expect to love you or anything involve feelings. You an adult now, you going to marry me, I don`t want you to look at me as a pervert or feel shy every time we in the room together. And the most important thing, please look at my eyes when we were talking all right?" Steve blurted out with Natalia so she could understand.

Natalia was surprised by what Steve said. But she understands that she has no voice because of Steve's kindness that she cannot afford to repay.

“So he married me because of pity” Natalia whisper to herself.

*******************************************************************************************

Their marriage runs very briefly. Only those who are there are Natalia`s uncle and aunt, Scott and Selena. She wore a simple plain white dress. And Steve was in his tuxedo.

Natalia was a bit awkward when Steve kissed her lips. But Steve looks normal and doesn`t give any response

It was their wedding night. Natalia feels ashamed because this is the first time she shared a room with Steve. She's never been with a guy before.

"Tonight you slept on my bed and I slept on the couch." Steve gave directions. Natalia feels mixed up, as she was a little relieved because she did not have to share a bed with Steve. But she a little frustrated because Steve might not like to sleep with her or be near her.

Natalia looks Steve sleeping without a blanket on the couch. Nat brought a blanket and put it on Steve. She examined Mister Rogers's face closely. This the first time she can look at very closely. He was a handsome man, long eyelashes, and thick lips. She remembers Steve's lips on her at the wedding ceremony. She only hopes that she will never fall in love with him. Natalia goes to the table where she keeps her books. She keeps her father photo in her bracelet. She wonders what her father will think of Steve. She continues to study until she falls asleep.

Tomorrow is the first day of Natalia and Steve to live as a husband and wife.

#Steve Rogers #natasha romanoff #captain america #Black Widow #romanogers #capwidow #stevenatasha #stevenat

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myaekingheart · 5 years

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76. The Blind Date

Perhaps the worst part about Sekkachi’s plan was that it forced her to be social. She didn’t particularly like people except for the obvious handful so finding the right man for the job felt like a huge hassle. Fortunately, she had Naru’s old address book complete with very opinionated commentary. She flipped through the pages, skimming the endless list of men in Konoha, before stumbling upon one whose involvement had to be foolproof. His name alone was enough to convince her. Now the only thing left was to convince Rei.

When she proposed the idea, it took all of Sekkachi’s strength to repress her shit-eating grin. This was going to be perfectly horrible. Rei was expectantly resistant. “You really need to start pulling yourself together” Sekkachi argued. “You’ve been spiraling for, like, three months. You need to get outside, get some fresh air, and get back into the dating game.”

“What could possibly make you think this is a good idea?” Rei argued. A blind date was not at all in her comfort zone nor her interests. “I’m not going through with this, absolutely not.”

Rolling her eyes, Sekkachi spat back, “And why not? It’s not like you’re currently unavailable.”

Her comment stung, but Sekkachi was right. Rei was technically single now. No, not technically—she was single now. There was no real reason for her to sit around romantically unoccupied. She forced herself to remember that she and Kakashi were incompatible, on totally different planes, and that they were forging separate paths now that forked away from one another. She was free of his companionship and therefore had absolutely no excuse. Sighing, she begrudgingly accepted the offer and, once alone, prayed she was not making a massive mistake. As Sekkachi strolled down the hall, she let herself finally grin with the delicious mischief of her underhanded work. This was truly going to be perfectly horrible.

The last thing Kakashi wanted was to arouse suspicion. The allure of that new book was far too strong, however, and so he would have no other choice but to resort to much sneakier methods. He carefully removed the dust jacket off a hardcover copy of Makeout Paradise and wrapped it around his new book, the fit a little wonky but good enough. No one was allowed to know what he was actually reading.

Konoha was quiet that afternoon, but the air was fresh and clear. Naruto would be preparing for his long journey off training with Jiraiya and Sakura was likely working hard under Lady Tsunade’s jurisdiction. He didn’t want to think about Sasuke’s studies. Rubbing the back of his neck, Kakashi walked along comfortably as he scanned anecdote after anecdote of lost love, sexual dissatisfaction, and advice on how to fix it all. He was just in the middle of a rather intriguing story of a man and woman trying to find comfortable sex positions during a trying pregnancy when he overheard an all-too-familiar voice from behind.

“Kakashi-sensei!”

Kakashi involuntarily shoved his book behind his back and whipped around to find Naruto and Sakura rapidly approaching. “Uh, hey, guys! What seems to be the trouble?” he asked, feigning innocence.

Naruto cocked a brow in suspicion, skirting around his sensei to try and see what he was hiding. Kakashi turned slowly in the same direction in hopes of deterring his student. Not that the cover of Makeout Paradise was all too unusual, but god forbid Naruto stole the book itself and saw what was really inside.

“We’ve been looking for you all morning!” Sakura explained. “We need your help with something.”

“Oh, right!” Naruto exclaimed, as if he had completely forgotten their entire mission. He giggled mischievously before rushing back to Sakura’s side and wrapping an overenthusiastic arm around her. “Sakura and I are going on a date!”

“Oh?” Kakashi asked. “Is that so?”

Naruto nodded excitedly, but the tension in Sakura’s jaw only heightened Kakashi’s suspicion. “Yep” Sakura replied through gritted teeth. “We’re going on a date alright.”

Smiling, Kakashi rested a hand on each of their heads and replied, “Good for you two! Nice to see you’re finally getting over Sasuke, Sakura.” The pink-haired kunoichi could only grit her teeth and grumble under her breath. She tried to remind herself how much she was getting paid to do this. As Kakashi started walking away, however, Sakura whipped around and snatched his wrist. His book nearly flew out of his hands, his heart pounding in his chest. The pages fluttered, revealing only a hint of the content inside.

“Kakashi-sensei, wait!” Sakura called. “We have a favor to ask of you.”

“What is it?” Kakashi asked, borderline exhausted already with the prospect. He almost didn’t want to know. He didn’t particularly want to involve himself in whatever antics they were getting into.

“Well, you see, the thing is…” Sakura started, skirting around the problem. “In order for us to go on this date, my parents insisted we have a chaperone but they’re both busy so they said we should ask you!”

“Yeah!” Naruto exclaimed. “We figured since you’re our sensei and all, you’d be the perfect choice!” Then, scooting in a little closer, Naruto whispered scandalously, “Besides, you’re far less strict than Sakura’s parents so I’m sure you’d let me get away with stealing a kiss or two, am I right, Kakashi-sensei?”

Kakashi narrowed his eyes and leaned away from his student, muttering something along the lines of “Don’t get so close!”

Meanwhile, the minute she overheard, Sakura charged forward grimacing, shouting “Naruto, you idiot!” while punching him hard on the arm.

It was really far too early to put up with their bullshit. Sighing, Kakashi shook his head and replied, “I don’t know if I really feel like playing the third wheel on your kindergarten date.” Amidst the chaos, however, his grip on his book had fallen slack and Sakura caught sight of the title of one of the chapters: Finding Time for Sex During Parenting.

Fortunately for her, working in the medical field now meant she was typically unfazed by matters of the human body but in the hands of her sensei, this was too rich. His pervy makeout books were one thing, but this was a whole different matter entirely. Was there something he wasn’t telling them? Of course she knew he and Rei had broken up, but was this more complicated than her thirteen year old brain should be privy to? She had no idea but either way, this gave her ammunition. A sly smile touched her lips as she rocked back and forth on her heels, asking in sing-song, “Hey, Kakashi-sensei? Is it a boy or a girl?”

Kakashi’s face went deadly pale and there was a glimmer in Sakura’s eyes that sent chills down his spine. “W-w-what do you mean?” he stammered.

“Yeah, Sakura, what do you mean?” Naruto asked, cocking a brow and wrinkling his nose in confusion.

Grinning, Sakura poked at the cover of Kakashi’s book, the slightly oversized dust jacket wrinkling beneath her fingertip, and replied sweetly “Just wondering.”

Fuck. She was onto him. Sweat beaded on Kakashi’s brow as he shoved the book into his back pouch then and pasted a fake grin on his masked face. “Alright, what time should I pick you kids up for your date? Just let me know when and where!”

Rei couldn’t believe she was actually doing this. She ran her fingers through her hair as she paced her apartment, trying to wrap her brain around what was happening. She never should’ve agreed to this. She wasn’t the type of person who went on dates with people she didn’t know. Not that she had ever really been on a date with anyone other than Kakashi. Her current circumstance was just a grave reminder that she was truly wading into unknown territory. She had no idea what to expect, how to act, what to wear. With Kakashi, everything came easily, naturally, but this? This was a whole separate beast.

She glanced to the clock, finding she only had ten minutes left until her date was set to pick her up. She gripped the edge of her desk tightly and sucked in a deep breath, anxiety welling up inside of her. She didn’t want to do this. Her eyes then skated to the blue cornflower on the windowsill and her heart leapt into her throat. Kakashi.

She had no idea how much time had passed in her panicked state when a sudden knock at the door brought her back to earth. Rei checked the time again—he was seven minutes early. Cursing under her breath, she pulled her hair back into the signature ponytail and slipped that floral haori on over her outfit as she rushed to the door. She tried to keep herself composed as she greeted her date for the night, met with perhaps the largest and burliest man she had ever seen. He looked her up and down and despite wearing three layers of clothing, in his gaze she felt totally and completely naked.

The restaurant, an intimate hibachi place geared more toward the wealthy and posh, was completely packed. Kakashi grimaced as he followed Naruto and Sakura inside, knowing full well there was no way Naruto could afford dinner at a place like this. Hell, he could barely afford Ichiraku. “Uh, Naruto…I don’t know if this is the best idea” he said with uncertainty. “You might need to reschedule your date…and find someplace cheaper.”

Naruto, however, was defiant. “No, it has to be tonight!” he insisted. “And it has to be here!”

“Did you remember to make a reservation?” Sakura asked, eyeing him critically.

Desperate to save face, Naruto rubbed the back of his neck and grinned. “Of course I did! I just have to walk up to the podium and let them know I’m here, and we should be seated soon!” With that, he confidently weaved through a gathering of rather stuck up adults straight to the hostess. He may have been a total idiot but Sakura had to admit, he had gumption.

Rei sipped her sake as she tried to get to know her date, but the trouble with hibachi restaurants was that there wasn’t much room for privacy. Especially when that hibachi restaurant was packed to the brim. Apparently there was some misunderstanding with the reservations of those scheduled to sit with them, therefore delaying service to their table, but it was no matter. Rei tried not to overthink it, forcing herself to instead be grateful for the brief moments alone with this man.

“I can’t even imagine how you do your job every day” the man said. His name was Attoteki Orokona and no, he would not let her forget it.

Rei laughed nervously and shook her head. “But I thought you were a ninja too?” she asked.

“Well yeah” Attoteki replied, “But you’re a woman! Being a shinobi just isn’t the type of job for the likes of you. I mean, what if every woman in the world decided to be a ninja? Women are scientifically the weaker sex, so you’d be at a disadvantage and then what would happen to the population? If you ask me, women ought to stay home and just pop out kids.”

“Uh-huh…” Rei replied quizzically. She wasn’t sure how to take any of this. Defeated, she took a rather large swig of her drink. Just then, a waitress approached to seat the rest of their table. Joining them were a young couple on what appeared to be a first date and their chaperone. So essentially a very young couple. It took Rei all of two seconds to comprehend that this was not just any couple, however. In fact, it was Naruto and Sakura. And with them as chaperone was Kakashi Hatake.

Attoteki glanced over to them and bid them a brief hello, hardly polite. If anything, he was rather bothered there were kids sitting next to him. He knew he’d have to censor himself for their sake, which was not at all his forte.

“Well, what do you know!” Naruto exclaimed, leaning across the table to grin at Rei. Taken aback, she nearly choked on her drink. Attoteki had to slam her hard on the back, sake spewing across the table. Kakashi cocked a brow in intrigue. Meanwhile, Rei’s face turned bright red. There was no way this was really happening.

“Do you know this kid?” Attoteki asked, pointing his thumb toward Naruto.

“Unfortunately, yes” Rei groaned, sinking into her seat. “Attoteki, this is Naruto Uzumaki and his teammate Sakura Haruno” she introduced, motioning toward each of them respectively. And then came Kakashi. Speaking for him was almost excruciating. “And this, for some reason, is their sensei who I’m sure you already know seeing as everyone else does.”

“I’m Kakashi Hatake” he greeted with a smile and wave. “But don’t mind me. I’m only here to make sure these two don’t get into trouble!” He tugged Naruto back into his seat by his shirt collar then and forced a grin on his face, muttering quietly, “Which he seems to already be pushing the limits of.”

Sakura rested her chin in her hands and peered past Attoteki to Rei, asking, “What brings you here? Are you on a date?”

Rei nodded slowly, “Yeah…something like that.” But it feels more like a death march, she thought to herself. This was merely confirmation that she had to be the unluckiest person on the planet. Really, what were the odds? This was almost too convenient.

Attoteki then stepped in, extending a brawny hand for a shake. “The name’s Attoteki Orokana” he greeted gruffly. “You’re a cute little thing, aren’t you? I bet you’d make someone a great wife someday.” Not even skipping a beat, Sakura shook his hand back with a sweet smile. Though he tried, it was hard to wipe the shock off his face at her grip. For someone so small, she was certainly much stronger than she seemed. Once she released his hand, he forced a confident smile to compensate and then eyed Kakashi, muttering, “Real cute kid.”

“She’s training to be a medic ninja under Lady Tsunade” Kakashi explained proudly.

Attoteki smirked and muttered under his breath, “Remind me not to piss her off before a surgery then.” As if he even expected to be operated on by a thirteen year old in the first place.

“So how long have you two been together?” Naruto then asked.

Attoteki wrapped a strong arm around Rei and replied confidently, “It’s just our first date, but something tells me we’re gonna have plenty more.” Kakashi’s sharingan eye twitched at the thought.

“Wow, so there are tons of things you don’t know about Rei yet then!” Naruto exclaimed.

Rei blinked, eyeing him suspiciously. As if he knew a ton of things about her. “Like what…?” she asked through gritted teeth. Deep down, she knew he would never get the cue to not actually answer.

“Well…” Naruto started. “She’s got a really short temper! And she’s real self conscious about her height. When I first met her, she nearly killed me for talking about how short she was and we got kicked out of a restaurant! She probably would’ve done me in, too, if Kakashi-sensei hadn’t restrained her.”

“So I take it you all know each other pretty well then, huh?” Attoteki asked. Naruto nodded enthusiasatically.

“Yeah, yeah! Believe it!” he insisted. “Kakashi-sensei especially!” Then, turning to his sensei, asked, “Say, how long were you two together, anyways?”

“Together?” Attoteki asked, arching a brow. He turned to Rei for an explanation.

Burying her face in her hands, Rei nodded slowly and replied, “Yeah…Kakashi is, uh…my ex-boyfriend, actually.”

She wasn’t sure exactly what kind of reaction she expected, but it certainly wasn’t this. A grin spead across Attoteki’s face then as he suddenly broke out in uproarious laughter, then reached across the table and clapped Kakashi hard on the back. “That’s too bad!” he exclaimed. “I guess you just couldn’t keep her satisfied, could you? Lucky for you, she’s in good hands now! Going out with a real man!”

Kakashi pursed his lips and leaned back to create some distance between himself and Attoteki. What did he mean a real man? Did this guy even have any idea of Kakashi’s death toll? Of his renown across the Five Great Nations? Meanwhile Attoteki hardly had a notable accolade to his name. He wanted to say something, but then thought better of it. It wasn’t worth his time.

Throughout the entire course of dinner, however, Kakashi’s patience was tested time and time again. Attoteki was perhaps the most abrasive person he had ever met. Loud, outspoken, overbearing, egotistical. Not to mention misogynistic. He overrided Rei’s order, insisting she get the vegetable platter rather than her preference of steak for the sake of her figure. “No girlfriend of mine is going to be walking around with a waistline that thick!” he laughed. Kakashi cringed. As far as he could tell, Rei was perhaps thinner than ever before. It was clear her eating habits the past few months were suffering, and he feared that if she didn’t do something soon, she would wither away to nothing. He ordered the steak for himself, resolving to likely slip her half of his plate as a courtesy.

Attoteki was a messy eater, scarfing down his food ravenously and chewing with his mouth wide open. Naruto grimaced as specks of chicken flew across the table in his wake. Disgusting.

Clearing his throat, Kakashi then interjected himself into the conversation, “So, Attoteki…” he asked. The man turned to him mid-chew and for a moment appeared totally primitive. Kakashi smiled nervously at him before continuing. “How did you and Rei meet?” he asked.

“It’s actually a blind date!” Attoteki answered. Oh thank god, Kakashi thought to himself. The past few months had him questioning how well he really knew Rei but he was at least positive she never would’ve gone for a man such as this on her own accord. Attoteki then wrapped an arm around his date and tugged her close, planting a sloppy kiss on her cheek and adding, “And boy am I glad I agreed! I mean, look at the set on her! The only rack bigger in Konoha is on Tsunade herself!”

Rei’s face burned bright red as she tried to ignore the man’s remarks. It was clear to Kakashi, however, that she was losing it. Narrowing his eyes, he then asked, “Is her body really all you care about?”

Looking back at him dumbly, Attoteki asked, “What else is there?”

Sakura knew this was not her battle to fight but she couldn’t stand to just sit there and let all of this fly over her head. “What about her brain?” she asked. “Or her skill?”

Attoteki grunted and shook his head. “That’s real funny” he replied, but after a few moments of silence it occurred to him that they were dead serious. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and explained, “Listen, the worst thing a woman can do is educate herself. She reads books and then she starts getting these ideas and learning big words and then she gets argumentative and you’ve gotta put her back in her place. The world would be better off if women just stuck to what they knew and let the men handle the big stuff.”

“Stick to what they know?” Sakura asked. She could hardly keep the offended expression off her face. “Like what?”

Swatting at the air, Attoteki replied as he took another bite, “You know. Feminine stuff. Cooking, cleaning, raising the kids.” Then, nudging Rei in the shoulder, he added, “I’m sure you’d be great at that. You’ve got great birthing hips—I’m sure you could pop out at least five with no problem!”

Kakashi’s face went deathly pale. His eyes skated to the empty glasses on the table—apparently not only was Rei’s date absolutely unbearable but he was a total drunk, too. He had already been through four glasses of sake and was nearly finished with a fifth. If he continued, Kakashi didn’t even want to think about what this scum might do to Rei. Clearing his throat, he replied sharply, “I can’t help but feel like you need to get your priorities in order. Rei is far more than just a vessel for your personal satisfaction.”

Grimacing, Attoteki took a long swig of his drink and fired back, “Well, I don’t really think your opinion on the subject matters much. You had your chance with her and you failed, so now it’s my turn.”

Peering past the brute man, Kakashi looked at Rei then and asked, “Does he make you happy?”

Before she could say anything, however, Attoteki interrupted. “Happy?” he laughed. “She should be more concerned with whether or not I’m happy! That’s the important thing here.”

“So you have absolutely no regard for her feelings whatsoever?” Kakashi asked him.

Attoteki laughed. “No wonder you failed in pinning her down. You don’t understand a damn thing about how these sorts of things work.”

“I understand far more than you think” Kakashi replied. Naruto noticed how much tighter the copy ninja was gripping his chopsticks, the invisible temperature gauge in his head escalating exponentially. Things were about to get really bad.

Attoteki, however, seemed to recognize none of the impending doom. Turning to Rei, he pulled her close and said, “Can you believe this guy? He’s fucking delusional! It’s a good thing I came in and saved you when I did or else you’d be done for. Can’t let a sweet little thing like you go to waste.” The scent of alcohol was strong on his breath and his hand began to wander to places it shouldn’t go. She could feel him grip her waist tightly, as if fully prepared to snap her pelvic bone should she resist. And that was when Kakashi snapped.

“Let her go” he growled, narrowing his eyes.

“This is none of your concern” Attoteki spat over his shoulder. “I already told you, this little babe is mine now.” Then, turning to Rei, he whispered drunkenly, “Isn’t that right?” Her heart leapt into her throat and for a moment she was convinced she was going to be sick. His voice sent shivers down her spine.

Kakashi turned to Naruto and Sakura then, insisting they step outside. “I don’t want you to see what’s about to happen” he added. Naruto protested, but Sakura knew better than to test Kakashi right now. She gripped the jinchuriki’s wrist and tugged him at least into the restaurant lobby. Deep down, she, too, yearned to see what was about to happen.

The minute they were out of sight, Kakashi stood and approached Attoteki at the other end of the table. “I’m only going to say this one more time: let her go.”

“Or else what?” Attoteki scoffed. “You’ll slap my wrists? Back of the line, kid. Come back and fight me when you’re a real man.”

Sighing, Kakashi knew then that he had no choice. Lifting his ninja headband, he revealed his glaring sharingan and yet even then, Attoteki did not understand the full weight of the situation. “I really don’t want to have to do this” Kakashi said.

Rei shook her head frantically, whispering hoarsely, “Kakashi, please don’t. It’s fine. Really.” But it wasn’t fine. She hated how frozen she was in Attoteki’s unyielding embrace, how she couldn’t bring herself to fight back even if she wanted to. She was fully aware that if she didn’t, however, she would have no choice but to be on the receiving end of Kakashi’s heroism and that almost scared her more than anything Attoteki would do. So much for independence.

Attoteki rolled his eyes and refused to budge. “What good is that going to do?” he asked. “I doubt you can use that thing properly, you’re not even an Uchiha.”

“Want to bet?” Kakashi asked, voice low and serious. Attoteki stared back at him, confidence unwavering. This was the start of the end. What began as a basic blind date had turned into an all-out war in the middle of the restaurant. With one swift motion, Kakashi lunged forward with kunai drawn, stopped only by Attoteki’s strong grip.

“What are you going to do?” the brute man asked. He hugged Rei closer to his body, adding, “If you take me out, she goes down with me.”

“You underestimate her ability” Kakashi growled. He glanced to Rei knowingly and her entire body nearly collapsed. He hadn’t looked her in the eyes like that in so long. She didn’t think she could do as he asked of her, but his gaze insisted that she at least try. That no matter what, he believed in her. Pursing her lips, she gave one definitive nod.

While Kakashi had him distracted, Rei kneed Attoteki in the crotch, releasing his grip on her. She slid across the table, the hibachi grill still hot, and slipped next to Kakashi. Involuntarily, she pressed her back against his and their fingers intertwined, their chakra mingling. It had been so long since they used this jutsu, and the sensation of their chakra sent her heart racing. She reminded herself to keep her anxiety at bay, however. For this to work, she’d need precise control. In a matter of minutes, their chakra surrounded them in a blue glow, reaching optimum power. A ball of lightning formed in Kakashi’s palm as he raced forward and trapped Attoteki inside of an electic cage, Rei leaping over her ex-boyfriend from behind to smother the dome in a barrage of water. The entire room went blinding white for a split second and then there was nothingness.

Attoteki coughed into his elbow, blood spurting from his lips, as he tried to refocus his vision. Standing over him was Rei with a sharp glare on her face. He could hardly comprehend what had just happened. “Y-you’re…insane!” he croaked.

A satisfied smile touched Rei’s lips as she knelt down to punch Attoteki square in the face. “Do us all a favor” she started, “and next time, don’t underestimate the power of a woman. I can do way more than just pop out kids.”

Attoteki growled and tried to stand up to apprehend her but it was no use. He was completely immobilized. “Y-you’re going to regret this..!” he insisted.

Rei pursed her lips thoughtfully for a moment, then shook her head. “You know what? I really don’t think I will” she laughed. “But really, this is all for the best. It never would’ve worked out between us. You may be a man, but you’ll never be respectable.” And with that, she stood up and approached the restaurant lobby.

Kakashi fed the unfortunate soul one last glare before following Rei, but when he turned around he was merely met with a glare from the hostess. “We’ll, uh…we’ll pay for the damages” he said, rubbing the back of his neck and smiling sheepishly. The hostess merely rolled her eyes and pushed past him to try and clean up the debris. And the restaurant truly was in absolute shambles. Chairs were knocked over, some even launched through windows, ceiling lights were hanging on by a single perilous wire. If he didn’t know any better, Kakashi would assume the place was struck by a massive earthquake. Fortunately, the lobby was relatively unscathed. As he stepped out into the open space, Rei pressed a hand to her forehead and sighed. The harikenkeji took a lot out of her, and her chakra was likely extremely depleted. He swooped in and caught her just as her knees buckled, his cheeks tinting red. “Are you okay?” he asked.

She lingered in his grasp for a moment longer before regaining her footing and composing herself. “Yeah…yeah, I’m, uh…I’m fine” she said. She could hardly meet his gaze. The feel of their chakra intertwining still had her reeling and dizzy. She didn’t want to think about it.

Naruto and Sakura rushed toward them then, overflowing with excitement. “Well, what happened?” Naruto asked. “Did you beat his ass? Did you guys work things out? Are you back together?”

That last question was what truly gave them away. Kakashi cocked a brow and stared down at them, beginning to unravel their plan. “Alright, you two. What are you hiding?” he asked.

“Hiding?” Sakura asked. “We’re not hiding anything! Honest!”

Rei scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, okay. You really need to work on your lying, kid.” Sakura frowned and recoiled, completely called out.

Kakashi sighed and rubbed his forehead. “What have I told you two about meddling in other people’s love lives?”

“…Not to do it” Naruto murmured. “But this is different!” he then shouted. “You guys should be together! We don’t even know why you broke up in the first place!”

“Yeah!” Sakura added. “We just want you guys to be happy, and we know you were so happy when you were together! This whole thing doesn’t make a whole lot of sense.”

“Relationships are…complicated” Rei explained slowly. She really didn’t think they owed these kids an explanation, but she knew neither of them would hear the end of it if they just let things go. “Sometimes things just don’t work out the way you think they’re going to, and you just have to make peace with it and…and move on.”

Kakashi nodded. “Rei is right” he agreed. “You can’t force what’s not meant to be, and in our case it just wasn’t in the cards.” God, he hoped he sounded convincing. He glanced to Rei, terrified she would see right through his lies.

Naruto shook his head and kicked at the ground. “Well if you ask me, if you love someone you should never leave them no matter what! Whatever the problem is, there has to be a way to work through it! Believe it!”

Sighing, Rei shook her head and placed a hand on top of Naruto’s head. “I’m sure you’ll understand when you’re older” she replied. “For now, just…accept that some things are out of your control.”

Defeated, Naruto and Sakura disappeared down the street that night feeling as if all their hard work had gone to waste. The young jinchuriki placed his hands behind his head as he walked, pouting up at the sky wondering what they had done wrong and if it was their fault or if Rei and their sensei were just stubborn, dumb, and blind. They were meant to be together, they had to be. Staying apart was only going to cause more trouble. A hiss from down an alleyway captured their attention, and the two kids ducked into the darkness to relay the results of their mission.

Rei shook her head, laughing in disbelief, as she wrapped her haori shut tight. “So much for a pleasant night out” she commented.

“Sorry” Kakashi apologized. “I never intended to hijack your date.”

“No” Rei countered. “It’s fine. That’s not the part I’m sad about. I just wish things hadn’t gone so haywire, you know?”

“Yeah…” Kakashi replied. After a few beats of silence, however, he added, “I was glad I was there, though.” Rei cocked a brow and looked at him curiously, terrified of what he was bound to say next. “I know we’re not together anymore but…I still care very deeply about you, Rei. I want you to be happy and safe. I’m glad I was there to protect you when things started to go downhill.”

Frowning, Rei turned away and murmured, “I don’t need you to protect me, Kakashi.” The copy ninja averted his eyes and rubbed the back of his neck. He should’ve known she would say something like that. Before he could respond, however, she then added, “But thank you. I appreciated your help tonight. And that combo attack…”

“It’s been a while” he said with a bittersweet smile.

“Yeah…” she murmured. “That was…that was really something else.”

Another beat of silence passed before he then turned to her, locking eyes with her, and the whole world felt like it was about to explode. “Do you want me to walk you home?” he asked.

She paused and deliberated for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah…yeah, that would be fine.” A small smile touched his masked face as he ushered for her to walk alongside him.

In the alleyway, Naruto groaned and complained about everything that went wrong that night. Sekkachi, however, seemed totally unfazed. “You did a good job” she assured the kids. “This went exactly as planned.”

“That was your plan?” Sakura asked. She shook her head in disbelief. “But they’re still not back together! What are we supposed to do now?”

“I wouldn’t be so quick to judge” Sekkachi protested, then pointed out to the street. “We can’t expect them to fall into each other’s arms overnight. Sometimes you have to mix the cough syrup into the applesauce in order for the baby to take it.”

“…What?” Naruto asked, cocking a brow.

“Nevermind” Sekkachi shook her head. “Just look.”

Naruto and Sakura turned their gaze in the direction of Sekkachi’s finger, watching as Rei and Kakashi passed by slowly. They walked beside one another, an air of tension surrounding them as they chatted casually. Perhaps there was hope after all. If they looked close enough, they could catch their fingers twitching to interlock. A satisfied smirk touched Sekkachi’s lips as they disappeared into the night. Slowly but surely, things were finally coming together.

#kakashi hatake #rei natsuki #the scarecrow and the bell #naruto #naruto oc #fanfiction #ramblings

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emblem-333 · 5 years

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William Jennings Bryan and American Socialism

No matter how many times we are confronted with the similarities of history we as human beings do the same exact things our predecessors did. We like to believe we are in uncharted territory, that there is something inherently special about the times we currently live in. Or, that we’re in the “end of history.” In reality, history never ends. Humanity never ceases evolving — or devolving. As the rich get richer, the poor get poorer, and the disgruntled electorate grow angrier at how they’ve become ignored largely by their representatives. The only time we’ve encountered such a scenario in our nation’s history is The Gilded Age when the oligarchs in the country amassed a substantial sum of wealth dwarfing the income of the average American by embarrassing margins. Unlike today where it��s mostly tech giants destroying the country, in the later half of the 1800’s post-Civil War it was the rail roads and Wall St. exercising their respective monopolies to crush the growing force of organized labor.

Laborers were harassed, threatened, beaten by their employer for the mere request of better wages, manageable hours and basic human rights. In the days predating socialism arriving on the shores of the U.S the laborers were labeled as unruly strikers self-centered and uncaring towards the betterment of the country. The elite had their allies in the press smear the name of the poor constantly and populists campaigns seeking to reform a clearly broken system ended up dead on arrival. Even the book ‘The Wizard of Oz’ took pot shots at the farmer, laborers and populism in general. Victor Fleming portrayed the fraudulent utopia of the Emerald City as commentary of the issuing of greenback currency in lieu of Americans using the gold standard. In the middle of the Gilded Age, farmers had taken out loans when greenbacks were accepted currency. When times got rough President Grover Cleveland made greenbacks virtually useless and forced farmers to pay their debts back via the gold standard. This devalued their currency whilst rising up the inflation of the loans they’ve taken out. Greenbacks only have value due to the country agreeing at the time that it is such. The third party known as the “Greenbacks” sought to undo what they deemed to be an injustice towards the agricultural class.

While the Democrats favored the south they hardly were open to drastic change being proposed by the populists. Collective bargaining and making illegal for the government to seize land under “intimate domain” to build more railroads was frowned upon, even something as human as child labor laws were seen as harmful to the stability of the American economy. Never mind the economy seemed to crash nearly every couple of years.

Like it or not, but class warfare usually brings about economic justice for the downtrodden. The idea it doesn’t is a farce perpetrated by those either woefully and genuinely ignorant or wishing to protect their own capital. When the poor and the middle class unite to battle the oppressive elites it’s far more productive than if we fight amongst ourselves. But the below classes need representatives to champion their respective causes and unite the wings. In the days predating effective activism in the United States the best you could hope for is a representative forging his path, climbing the ladder of D.C and acting as your voice. That voice turned out to be former Nebraskan representative William Jennings Bryan. Bolstered by populist James B. Weaver his party fused with the populist democrats and managed to overtake the Bourbon establishment at the convention. Curiously, Bryan’s running mate was a wealthy shipbuilder named Arthur Sewall of Maine. Sewall never served nor had any experience in government. He was picked to possibly finance the underfunded campaign. The propaganda machine of the Republicans working in consort with gold Democrats did more than damage the populist Bryan. Losing, albeit competitively. Thus began Bryan’s reign over the party even though himself wouldn’t be elected to the Oval Office in either of his three attempts.

Perhaps if Bryan had chosen a more experienced candidate as a running mate his chances would’ve been maximized. It’s not like Sewall’s money did anything to assist Bryan. If anything it damaged his standing amongst the populists who were so dissatisfied at his nomination they nominated their own Vice President for the Bryan ticket. Initially, Bryan wanted second-placer Richard Bland Missourian representative as his running mate. However, Bland wished to run for his old congressional seat. Publisher John R. McLean of Cincinnati also was in the running finishing runner-up to Sewall. McLean was a railroad merchant and like Sewall his nomination likely spurs the further left wing of the party as well. Other names tossed around are governor Claude Matthews of Indiana. A moderate populist who broke up some strikes during his brief term. Matthews was lockstep on Bryan on social issues like prohibition of alcohol. Maybe his nomination would work as a mea culpa to the Cleveland delegation? The best option for Bryan was Iowan Governor Horace Boies. A supporter of low tariffs (a forgotten hallmark of Bryan’s candidacy), pro-silver and generally a decent liberal.

Bryan was far and away the most progressive nominee the Democrats — or the Republicans have ever put up. A fiery preacher demanding the direct election of senators, an end to child labor and proponent of Women’s Suffrage. Bryan was no doubt ahead of his time and paid the dear price electorally for it. The public wasn’t willing to jettison the norms to such a degree Bryan was proposing and left him at the altar. Much of his populist ideas were adopted by Theodore Roosevelt forcing Bryan even further to the left. Calling for a Universal Basic Income and local ownership of utilities in future campaigns.

Hindsight is 20/20, but Bryan would’ve been likelier to win if he picked a representative from a crucial swing state to balance the ticket and compromised on some issues, except the free coinage of silver. Though outside of the agricultural states it posed little to no incentive to the industrial workers of Illinois, Ohio, and other states making up the Rust Belt. Bryan likely needed to be more of a hawk on issues such as American Imperialism. In real life he’d support and volunteer himself for service during the Spanish-American War. In his religious eyes Bryan saw his country as liberators to the Cubans from the dreaded imperial Spanish. Bryan could drawback troops after the war was won and leave Cuba to govern itself and our relations with them would have been drastically altered for the better.

After winning Iowa by 942 votes Bryan bested McKinley in the electoral college 225-222. Bryan sweeps the south, excluding West Virginia, and does surprisingly well in the Midwest and west. Losing just Illinois, Wyoming, Minnesota, Ohio, Wisconsin and Minnesota. I campaigned as a crusader against tariffs in the heartland and in the industrial areas I promised not to overturn any apple carts by reforming labor laws. I managed to sell myself in moderate states like Iowa by appealing to their needs beyond the issue of silver. For the industrial worker the coinage of silver meant very little to them. What they wanted was basic human rights in the workplace. Bryan was their ally only he couldn’t manage to sell himself to them in real life.

To be fair to Bryan it is unlikely for someone of his caliber to have won given the circumstances. The poor economy and its subsequent blame was placed at the feet of the outgoing Cleveland. Fortunate enough to dodge the recession of 1890 which cost his successor Benjamin Harrison a second term. The Panic of 1893 ensured Cleveland wouldn’t be popular to challenge for a third term. Perhaps if Cleveland won re-election in ‘88 and McKinley succeeded him, imposed the unpopular “McKinley Tariff” designed to protect American goods and encourage the purchase of said goods. In the 1890 midterms Republicans were routed and by ‘92 the House, Senate and Presidency were under Democratic control.

Say this happens in 1894. The McKinley Tariff is vetoed by Cleveland when it was initially proposed in ‘90. President McKinley institutes his plan once he enters the Oval Office. Our allies Great Britain institute retaliatory tariffs against the United States and the recession of ‘93 is McKinley and his party’s baby. This’ll make it easier for the challenger Bryan to win in ‘96.

Chances are, Bryan pushes hard to get the United States out of the darkness of capitalism and into the light of socialism-lite. Bryan believed in a workers' right to unionize. He wouldn’t have used military force to put down strikes. He’d work to end child labor laws, regulate the standard workday to eight hours, and regulate financial sectors and bust up monopolies. Basically, Bryan is a better, though less bombastic Teddy. While Bryan in his old age, no doubt increasingly bitter at his string of his defeats, clutched to his bible during the Monkey Scopes Trial and embraced the KKK, the younger Bryan was more idealistic, pacifist and less set in his ways. In no way could he be mistaken as crusader for the downtrodden non-white people. But neither were the Republicans. Anti-Lynching laws weren’t passed until Calvin Coolidge did so in the late 1920’s. The Republicans dominated the White House in those days losing just four presidential elections between 1860 and 1928.

Not only does the United States image in the long term benefit from Bryan’s pacifist foreign policy — I doubt Hawaii is annexed during his presidency — you also have the Progressive Era arrive sooner with the Democrats leading the charge, the typically conservative party migrates to the more liberal Republicans for solace. The republicans at this time were friendly to big business and were beginning a downward spiral into laissez-faire capitalism. It took the miraculous arrival of Roosevelt to prevent both parties becoming stooges of the railroads and standard oil. Though Wall Street enjoyed preferential treatment because of course.

The electorate would be subjected to a gigantic realignment. The Republicans benefiting from the states ran by financiers, the Democrats still holding the south due to their confederate ties and further west where silver was very popular.

No doubt Bryan was a novice, but he was an effective novice. Despite having no experience in foreign affairs Bryan negotiated 30 peace deals during his stint as Secretary of State and preached neutrality during the run-up to U.S involvement into World War 1.

Bryan changes the makeup of the entire country. His Jacksonian ideals reverse the trajectory of where we were heading, eventually becoming the global powerhouse we are right now. Bryan likely keeps his throne until his death in 1925. So how the United States interacts with the European powers, the rise of the Soviets, among other entanglements is drastically altered. Perhaps Eugene V. Debs stays a Democrat and is a powerful force in Bryan’s administration. Maybe he’s a Supreme Court Judge? The United States potentially could become a proto-Soviet state only without the gulags and constant string of mysteriously disappearing government officials speaking out against those in power.

At the end of Bryan’s life the country he leaves behind is less imperialist, more reliant on agriculture and the wealthiest don’t exercise such power. Perhaps the worst of the Great Depression are avoided even if the Republican Party instantly takes power back after Bryan’s death.

The socialist movement stalled right around 1920. The Progressive Era assuaged many Americans away from the more radical ideology. Instead of the Industrial Revolution you’d have the Proletariat Revolution and it simply never end during Bryan’s reign.

Going further down the pike term limits are introduced after Bryan winning seven of them. So this completely does away with Franklin Roosevelt and puts the New Deal in question. Though the country is still smelling the fumes of Bryan’s presidency somewhat so much of his more ambitious legislation such as government work programs. The National Recovery Administration designed to establish a code of fair competition, to eliminate the cut-throat methods of industry likely isn’t shot down in the case of Schechter Poultry Corp. v. United States. The NRA is basically the Consumer Financial Protection Bureau with shark teeth for choppers.

Americans missed out on Bryan, but I don’t blame them. Bryan simply couldn’t sell himself to people who weren’t farmers.

Bryan: 225, 7,035,243

McKinley: 222, 6,736,978

Palmer: 0, 132,629

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