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verfound · 6 months

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MINIFIC: Oct. 23: Day 21: Ghost Animal (MLB, Lukanette, DLM AU)

This started as wanting to play with Pet Reapers. When I first saw “ghost animal”, that was the direction I wanted to go. The rest was an accident, but Quick okayed it. TW for potential loss of pets/close calls, the punching of children, and beloved ficcers ending up on my hit list. 😂

(Pet reapers are, canonically, children. The one in the show looks like he might be around ten?)

For @lovebugs-and-snakecharmers October Minific Challenge 2023.

Read on Ao3

To Feel Alive Again: Ch20: Drowned

Luka was…not having the best of days.

He wasn’t having the best couple of days, actually.

That was…kind of to be expected. What with yesterday being his Death Day. Most reapers got…Moody on their Death Day. It had been pretty par for the course, actually – he’d had ten of them by this point; he should know – but then…well.

Most reapers knew to leave each other alone on those days. Most reapers knew the traditions. The customs.

Most reapers weren’t Marinette.

He hadn’t expected Marinette to show up at his door with a smile and a bottle of booze. He…should have expected to be grateful when she did. He was finding more and more he was…grateful for Marinette’s presence in his life.

Because he didn’t…care for her. He couldn’t. Whatever feelings he might have thought he’d been catching were clearly not mutual, so. They were…friends. Coworkers. Buddies, at best.

But when she had shown up, eager to offer the comfort he’d so desperately been craving…for one minute he had let himself believe…had fooled himself into thinking…

It was too easy to give in to how the night could have – should have – gone. Marinette, so warm and real and alive, holding him together as he fell apart. Finally giving in to the curiosity that had been plaguing him for months now and learning what her kiss tasted like. Finally giving in and taking what she had been so innocently offering. Letting himself be happy for once. Finally forgetting he was dead as he made her fall apart, finally loving her like he had been telling himself he couldn’t all this time. Waking up in his bed – or on the couch, he wasn’t picky – with the sunlight illuminating her hair like it had that first morning, making her glow. The smile that would still be on her face, and the lazy kisses they’d exchange as they put off getting up. Maybe even sharing a shower. Showing up to breakfast late with her hand in his. Pissing Théo the hell off when he helped her into the booth and stole a kiss in front of all of them.

The way she would blush and smile and how it would be all for him, and how he would smile back because…

Because…

But it didn’t matter. That was clearly not what she’d wanted. He had clearly misread the signs, misread her intentions, her desires – had clearly confused them with his own, and he…he wasn’t about to force himself on her. He wasn’t her choice – her romantic choice, at least. He was just…he was a friend. And he was fine with that. He had to be. Because it wasn’t her problem he’d gotten stupid on her, and he wasn’t about to make it her problem, so if he had stupidly misread everything and kissed her like a fucking idiot when she clearly didn’t want him to…

…he’d let her go. He had to. He wasn’t Théo.

She didn’t love…she wasn’t interested in him. Not like that.

So he wouldn’t be interested in her.

And he hadn’t slept the rest of the goddamned night, because who the fuck would be able to after that? He’d left his flat earlier than usual – certainly earlier than Marinette usually arrived, on those mornings she showed up to walk to breakfast with him – and had just…shambled around for a bit. Walked around the city trying to clear his head and dispel that anxious energy or…something. He was at the café as they were opening, and when Mendeleiev showed up an hour and a half later he was already nursing his third cup of coffee.

“…can I just have my post-it and go?” he’d asked, his voice low. She had looked him over critically, taking in his disheveled appearance, before slapping his post-it by his coffee.

“Are we going to have a problem?” she’d asked, and for a moment Luka had thought she’d meant his reap. It had taken a moment to remember Mendeleiev didn’t really know about his side job. Well. She knew he had a job – knew what the job was – but she didn’t exactly know his clients.

She didn’t know he knew B.M. Quick personally. That Brenda May Quick was one of the nicest people you’d ever meet, or that she owned the stupidest, fluffiest beast Luka had ever met. Bach was a special dog, an absolute sweetheart, but he had needs. He was deaf, and caring for the brute could be…difficult. Luka was one of the only people Quick trusted with Bach’s care.

And he had to go kill her.

It really wasn’t turning out to be his day.

“…of course not,” he’d sighed, his voice heavy and full of his usual disdain. Mendeleiev had reached out and laid a hand on his shoulder. He had looked up at her and found she was looking at him, and if he hadn’t known any better he would almost say she’d looked…concerned. “What?”

“Fred gave me a call last night,” she’d said. His fist had tightened on the post-it, crumpling it. He had shrugged her off and stood, tossing a few bills down on the table.

“I’m fine,” he’d said, glaring at her. “Mind your own fucking business. Please.”

“It is my own fucking business when it affects my group,” she had said. He’d scoffed, and she’d snatched at his wrist before he could turn away. “Luka.”

He had watched her for a long moment, caught in some sort of stare down. He’d finally sighed and turned away.

“…we’re fine, Philece,” he’d said, tugging his hand away. “I just…had a bad night. We all do now and then. She’ll have her own in a few months.”

…and he would be there for her, too, when she did. However she needed him. Because he was fucking stupid.

Jules had always liked to remind him of that. She’d be having a field day with it now, if she could only see them. The brat.

Mendeleiev hadn’t looked like she’d believed him, but she had let him go all the same. So he had left the café before the others had arrived, stopped by a pet store on the way to his reap, and surprised Quick by showing up a day early for Bach’s walk.

“…the past day’s kinda sucked,” he’d said, his hands stuffed in his pockets. “You can say no – I know I didn’t really confirm this with you before showing up – but…I could use some Bach time. If that’s all right. I could take him for a short walk? No charge.”

“That’s really sweet of you, Luka, and I’d love to,” she’d said, closing the door a bit more behind her when Bach’s nose tried to snuffle his way through, “but Bach actually has a vet appointment in about an hour. He’s fine – he’s ok, don’t give me that look – just a standard checkup. We were just getting ready to go. Maybe come a little early tomorrow? He can have an extra long walk then.”

“…yeah,” he’d said, nodding with a bittersweet smile. “That would be great. Um. Here, can you give him this for me? I saw it earlier, and…I don’t know. He likes chasing the squirrels at the park, and I thought…”

“He’ll love it,” she’d said, taking the stuffed toy from him with a smile. His fingers had brushed along her hand when she grasped the toy, and the feeling of a soul popping along his arm had never felt so slimy before. Not even when he’d popped his own father. “Thank you, Luka. You’re too sweet.”

He hadn’t feel sweet.

He’d felt like an asshole.

“I think the world hasn’t been very kind to you, and I think it’s made you hard. I don’t think you were meant to be hard, though,” he remembered Marinette saying, but he wasn’t so sure about that. Being hard was…easy. It was every time he let his guard down and tried to open up to people that he ended up getting hurt.

He was pretty sure today was going to hurt.

He’d said goodbye to Quick, and when Bach tried to push his way through the door again – when he’d let out a low woof and snuffled in Luka’s direction, he had laughed and, after letting Bach sniff his hand, gave the big goof some scritches. He’d left after that, but he hadn’t gone far.

Because he was a day early for Bach’s walk, but he was only twelve minutes early for B. Quick’s appointment.

He had grabbed a to go coffee at a cart somewhere between the pet store and Quick’s house, and he sipped on it as he sat on a bench on the other side of the street, waiting. It really was turning out to be a shitty day. Ten years dead, the undead girl he had thought he’d been falling in love with just wanted to be friends, and now his favorite client was about to become an orphan. He…

…dropped his coffee as some punk ass kid zipping past on a skateboard attempted a trick, stumbled off his board, and knocked into the back of the bench. He turned, ready to snap at the brat, and froze.

“…sorry,” the reaper mumbled, ducking his head as he tugged his gray beanie lower on his head. A mop of brown hair poked out at the edges, and he watched Luka with steely brown eyes older than his face had any right to be. It was easy for reapers to spot other reapers, once you’d been dead long enough.

And Luka had been dead a long time.

“Ok, Bach! Let’s go, buddy!”

He looked up at Quick’s voice, Bach’s low woof carrying across the street as their door opened and she led the fluffy beast outside. The reaper glanced over at them, and Luka felt his stomach drop to his feet.

There was only one reason a child reaper would be here.

“…no,” Luka breathed, his hand gripping the back of the bench so tightly his knuckles blanched. The kid looked back at him, his expression a mixture of bored and annoyed that Luka was well acquainted with. “No.”

“Fuck off, old man,” he said, dropping his board back on the pavement and hopping on. He turned towards Quick – towards Bach – and started to kick off.

Luka acted on instinct.

His fist was connecting with the little shit’s face before his wheels could start rolling. He toppled back off his board, tumbling towards the sidewalk, and it all happened so fast after that.

It all happened because of a fucking squirrel.

“Bach, no!” he heard Quick shout, and he looked up just in time to see the squirrel dash in front of her car. It might have been fine, if Bach hadn’t seen the damned thing. But Bach loved squirrels, and Bach would always chase after a squirrel, and Bach was over forty five kilos of deaf dumbass who couldn’t hear his maman shouting at him to stop, wait, come back as he ripped his leash from her hands and bounded after the rodent and straight into the street.

“Shit,” Luka hissed as he shoved the kid’s face back into the pavement and ran after him. Quick was chasing him, too, but he was closer. Faster. And he didn’t have an old foot injury slowing him down.

He saw the car coming.

Saw the distracted teenager fiddling with the dash behind the wheel.

He ran faster.

Quick saw him a second too late. She saw him grab Bach’s leash and tug him out of the way, spinning to shield the oaf, and slowed down just a second too soon.

…it was his fault, in the end.

Because the car slammed on its brakes and smacked into his hip, and that would definitely leave a mark in the morning, but it hit Quick head-on. It crashed into her with a sickening crunch of bone and the heavy thud of a body hitting pavement, of a skull smacking into asphalt and life leaving a body.

He would walk it off.

Quick wouldn’t be walking anywhere anymore.

“It’s ok, boy,” he murmured into Bach’s fluff, scratching his chest as he whined and tried to turn towards his maman. He looked up to see Quick’s soul standing beside them, a bittersweet smile on her face.

“Take care of my boy for me?” she asked, and he nodded. Of course he would. He adored Bach, and he was so sick of losing things he loved. Quick gave him one last smile and turned, walking off towards the lights Luka was too preoccupied to look at. Bach gave a low whine, and Luka looked up to see the kid glaring at him.

“Monsieur! Monsieur! Christ, are you…oh my God, mademoiselle!” the driver cried as he stumbled out of the car and saw Quick’s body on the ground. Luka wasn’t paying any attention to him, though.

“You can’t have him,” he spat at the kid. “Not today. Not to-fucking-day.”

“You know what happens if I don’t,” the kid said. “You’re old. You can’t stop this.”

“…not today,” Luka said. “Reschedule the fucker. You can’t have him. You can’t.”

The kid watched him for a long moment, his eyes hard. He tutted after a moment and kicked up his board, stepping onto it.

“Suit yourself, old man,” he said, rolling his board back and forth a few times. He looked back at Luka and smirked. “I’ll get him eventually. Or someone will. Watch out for gravelings…”

The kid kicked off and started rolling down the street. Bach barked, and Luka almost didn’t hear the kid calling after him as the driver shouted for him to call 1-1-2.

“…asshole.”

#miraculous ladybug #luka couffaine #lukanette #endgame lukanette #lukanette endgame #ml fic #ver fic #lbsc october minifics 2023 #to feel alive again #luka couffaine is a fucking idiot #bach the dog #quick the reap #love you quick #I kill bc I care 😁#tw: near loss of pet #tw: loss of quick #Idek what I'm doing anymore #I just transcribe by this point 😂

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valyrfia · 8 months

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Hi. I saw your post about people taking Lestappen shipping too far and I have to say that I haven’t seen anything of the sort. Like people have unhinged thoughts, sometimes. We are human and fickle and we get carried away. I seem to remember yourself asking for people to send unhinged lestappen thoughts to you a few weeks if not a few months ago.

I mean yeah, it is wrong to post about Lestappen on spaces such as X and Instagram and tag them and their girlfriends, friends family members etc. But this is tumblr people have all soughts of takes on different things. Besides, Charles definitely knows about Lestappen with the way he’s active on Social Media trying to look up what is being said about him. Max may know because of Lando or Charles or even his girlfriend. Let’s also not forget about the posts both Scuderia Ferrari and Redbull make about them which give the connotations of wink, wink, nudge, nudge. And are we forgetting the F1 LV post and the caption? It’s everywhere.

The other thing is saying they are not together and never willl be. Call me delusional but no one knows their real life situations. They could be together or not. You say they are not friends and aren’t even close but you don’t know that. It is clear from their interactions they are friends, they have a few mutual friends and even didn’t Max mention they meet at dinner sometimes? I mean idk what that means but they are closer than we think and it’s none of our business. Whatever we see on the media is not a clear depiction of their relationship. Max is vilified a lot and Charles is beloved and that has nothing to do with who they are as people or their relationship, whether good or bad. The thing I know is they clearly moved in from their childhood rivalry and they know just about every small detail that relates to the other person. There’s a lot out there to support that.

I agree with you that people need to create boundaries when it comes to RPF but let’s not act like it’s not okay for people to express their headcanons in spaces such as tumblr and leave it here. The only people who know the truth about their relationship is Charles and Max. Yeah maybe they can’t stand each other and play it for the cameras, maybe they wake up wrapped up in each others arms, maybe they are just friends or not. But they are the only ones that know. So let’s not gatekeep people from expressing their thoughts in the right way and in the right spaces. Just as you said not so long ago, you ship Lestappen because you don’t like Kelly or something akin to that.

So yeah people will ship and say what they want and they can’t be stopped. But it should be done in a good way that does not infringe upon anyone’s life. But let’s also let people have fun. And if anyone is unhappy about certain takes. Block people, I know I have.

Hi anon! Just want to say thank you for your time in typing out this ask, I appreciate it must've taken a while.

First of all, to clarify my words and clear my name. Yes I asked for unhinged takes, and most I received were very fun and lighthearted in the way we usually are on here. I want to clarify that there is nothing wrong with delusional takes for the most part and I'm sorry if that's what you took away from the little reality check post because I love the delusion. I think it's just also our our duty to be responsible for our delusions and reality check ourselves. For example, I did not respond to a couple who pushed it a bit far, such as trying to give Max's opinion on Alexandra. Or, to give an example that I'm also a fallible human being who needs a reality check, I got halfway through replying to one about detailed analyses of their respective mental healths relating to each other before I checked myself, realised that that is intrusive and made myself close my tumblr tag and delete the ask. Yes I do not like Kelly, and I have given my reasons for it. I have never once said I ship Lestappen because I don't like Kelly, those are two unrelated opinions of mine. I like being delusional about Max and Charles's dynamic, and I dislike Kelly for her politics.

Tumblr is definitely the safe space for RPF and I agree with that and I was not trying to shame people away from that. The point of my post was to ask people to think a bit more, because tumblr doesn't exist by itself in the social media ecosystem. I've seen my own posts shared on tiktok and twitter (I refuse to call it X I'm so sorry anon), without my permission. I see takes that started here on tumblr start to crop up on tiktok, twitter, and instagram where they multiply and spread very quickly due to the nature of those sites. My previous post was very much a plea to keep the RPF within this well-defined fandom space of tumblr, where we're governed by the peaceful rules of tagging and not an unfeeling, hungry algorithm. Max and Charles may know or may not know about Lestappen, but it's also not their jobs to set their boundaries about what is and isn't okay.

In terms of the wording I used in my post (ie. will never date). I used those words for a reason because reality checks work the best with absolutes. Can I say I know for all certainty that my statement is right? Of course not, I can't provide you with anything that is 100% true, but the absolutes help to provide some cognitive dissonance between the people we see on the screen/irl and the people we are delusional about on here. I have been in RPF spaces before and I've noticed a pattern that things started going south when people started being like "99.9% sure they're not together....but what about that 0.1%". Not at all criticising you for making that point anon, but I'm explaining my choice to use such high modality language in a reality check.

As a last note, if my words seem overly harsh it's because of my past with RPF where I've witnessed things like the 0.1% delusion, the tumblr to other sites jump of headcanons and opinions. Sure there was one thing that pushed me over the edge to make that post but in the past couple of weeks especially, I've been getting a dreadful feeling of deja vu which puts me on edge. I am very paranoid about the whole thing, I am a fallible human being. If you think I'm too harsh or you don't like my opinions, feel free to block me I really don't mind.

#anon

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iliveiloveiwrite · 3 years

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I wonder what it’s like to be loved by you // Benedict Bridgerton

Summary: You’ve loved him for as long as you can remember. Is this the season where he finally realises?

A/N: I LOVE BENEDICT. I love him so much. What do I have to do to get a Benedict? Title is from Shawn Mendes - Wonder. I had so much fun writing this fic, I can’t wait to write more for the Bridgerton fandom! I truly hope you all like it, let me know what you think please?

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x Fem!Reader

Warnings: swearing, mentions of food and drink, fluff, pining, mutual pining, dancing, balls, obliviousness, friends to lovers, she/her pronouns, a lot of history - I am a historian after all and this is the regency era.

Word count: 4.8k

Lady Danbury never spared any expense on the balls she held every season. She knew full well that many a match could be made that night so there was not only pressure from the ton, but also a responsibility that this ball must outdo all others thrown before – by herself and other matriarchs in society.

A feat she always managed to achieve, the elder thinks to herself as she watches your eyes widen upon entering the ornately decorated room. Looking you up and down, she approves of your outfit – a dark blue dress punctuated with silver jewellery, hair twisted into an updo with only a few strands hanging loose to frame your face. From her spot across the ballroom, Lady Danbury wonders how you hadn’t married yet.

As the band strikes up, Lady Danbury walks into the fray, greeting her guests with a smile. All the while, she keeps a trained eye on you, wondering who on earth had captured your heart but had not noticed.

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

No matter how hard he tried, the charcoal would not wash from his fingers. Having scrubbed and scrubbed at his hands, Benedict could only offer you a smile of apology as you not only noted his lateness but the state of his hands.

“It’s very fortunate that you are a talented artist,” You comment with a teasing smile.

Benedict reaches for your hand, dropping a kiss to the back of it before answering. “I class myself as very fortunate to have a friend like you who understands how easy it is to get lost in a sketch or a painting.”

You roll your eyes, careful not to let anyone else but Benedict see your act of impropriety. He smirks, unable to help himself.

“You’re a shameful flatterer, Benedict.”

“Some might even call me a ‘rake’,” He replies, his tone teasing.

“I shall save that for when you’ve really annoyed me.”

He laughs; a loud chuckle that draws the attention of those closest to you. Most notably, Benedict’s mother, Violet Bridgerton and Lady Danbury.

Benedict clears his throat; cheeks flushed not only from the attention but from the knowledge that his mother would soon be making her way over to him. He adored his mother; was grateful for her every day, but he could happily admit he could live without the meddling in his love life. He grabs your gloved hand once more; kissing the back of it in parting before asking, “Save me a dance on your card?”

“Always,” You answer, watching his back as he stalks away. Benedict narrowly avoids being collared by his mother, an act to which you find yourself smiling at.

With thoughts of Benedict in mind, you wander around the outskirts of the ballroom, your dark blue skirts swishing pleasantly under foot. You pause only to grab a lemonade from the table, sipping happily at the cold drink.

You catch sight of the brunette that had stolen your heart dancing with Penelope Featherington and though you know there is no romance there, your heart is unable to stop the hurt that lashes through it. Schooling your face into a mask of polite delight, you force yourself to turn away from the sight of the man you had so readily given your heart to dancing with someone else.

“How long have you been in love with my brother?” A raspy voice asks from behind you.

Your lemonade splashes slightly as you turn to face your interrogator. “Eloise!” You laugh, smiling too wide to be comfortable, “Whatever do you mean?”

Eloise’s shrewd blue eyes narrow slightly as she takes in your dismissal. She waves her hand in the general direction of Benedict though you knew exactly where he was – could feel his location thrumming in your veins.

“Don’t play coy, (Y/N). It doesn’t become you. Now, how long have you been in love with Benedict?”

That was the question, wasn’t it? How long had you loved Benedict? Thinking back on it, you’re sure that you’ve always loved him. Your family had been good friends with the Bridgerton family for as long as you could remember. Your mother was always having tea with Violet and you were always thrust upon the eight siblings without much worry. Your friendship with Benedict had started in earnest when you had complimented his art skills, bringing up how you liked to draw too. From there, a close friendship was forged.

By your twentieth year on this earth, you realised that your feelings for the second Bridgerton were no longer platonic… that you craved something more. Falling for Benedict Bridgerton felt inevitable almost; that your heart was destined to be his whether he knew it or not.

Sighing heavily, you see no point in lying to the second eldest Bridgerton girl. “For as long as I can remember,” You admit, rushing to add on, “But he doesn’t know so please don’t tell him!”

Eloise’s eyes widen at your confession, not only shocked that you readily admitted your feelings for her elder brother, but for how long you have harboured them. “Is that why you have not yet married?” She demands, “Because you loved him?”

Biting your lip, you nod. “It wouldn’t be fair to my husband. Their wife in love with another man – it doesn’t exactly set stable foundations for a long, prosperous marriage and…”

“And…” Eloise prompts, her innate curiosity getting the better of her. If her mother could hear her now, she would surely receive a scolding.

You ball your hands into fists before letting them drop to your sides; letting them hang there like the constant hope you have for Benedict.

“And I still hope he’ll notice I’m here. That I have been here all along,” You voice cracks on the admission causing a pang of upset to flash through Eloise. She’d reach out to comfort you, but it would only draw attention from the many mothers circling and no doubt, Lady Whistledown.

“(Y/N)…” Eloise begins but you hold a single hand up to stop her before she starts. With a strained smile, you reassure her. “It’s fine, Eloise. I accept it with every season that passes that it is unlikely he shall ever return my feelings.”

“Then he is a fool,” Eloise states plaining, sending a glare in the direction of her beloved brother. She had no qualms admitting that Benedict was indeed her favourite sibling, but he had his moments where he vexed her beyond belief.

“Who is a fool?” A voice questions to the right of you. Benedict.

Freezing in place, you cast a helpless look at Eloise, begging her silently to take control of this situation. Eloise smiles and nods imperceptibly. She turns towards her brother, hooking her arm through yours as she declares, “The men that have not offered their hand to (Y/N) yet. They’re all fools, aren’t they dear brother.”

Benedict casts his gaze towards you; his eyes scanning your face for what, he does not know. “Fools,” He agrees quietly though he is heard perfectly over the music. “Would you care to dance?” He asks, wanting you to himself for a little while. As much as he loved his younger sister, she was a keen observer, and he wasn’t ready for her to figure out his feelings just yet. Not when he hadn’t admitted them to you.

Nodding your head, you take his outstretched hand, bidding goodbye to Eloise for now. The brunette shakes her head as the both of you walk away. Oblivious, she thinks to herself, completely oblivious.

As the music strikes up once more, it becomes obvious that the next dance is a waltz, requiring the closeness of your partner. It was only years ago that this dance had scandalised the ton for its closeness – now, it was required at every ball, many married couples savouring the intimacy.

Benedict’s hand settles on the small of your back as his other grips your hand. Your hand rests comfortably on his shoulder as he begins to lead you through the steps you have known since your youth.

Music around you fades as do the other couples. The only two people in the room are Benedict and yourself. The feel of his hand on your back and the look in his eyes; it’s enough to have you accept your fate then and there. It’s enough for you to admit that you have been ruined for any and all men; finding yourself in love with the man who holds you so tenderly and has always held you in high regard. Is this it? You ask yourself, is this what it feels like to be loved by him? To feel like the only one in the world. If it is, you’ll take it with open hands.

Your eyes do not leave his as Benedict leads you through the rises and falls of the dance. His hand remains a steady presence on your lower back; the feeling just enough to distract you from the crowd now watching you and instead, leading you to wonder what his hands would feel like elsewhere on your body.

As the music falls into another song; this one more upbeat, Benedict drops his hands, letting you free. He hadn’t wanted to; had wanted to pull you from the ballroom, to confess the feelings that have haunted him for years and to ask you to be his for better or for worse.

But he doesn’t. Instead, he bows and smiles, reaches for your hand to kiss it and then lets himself breathe as he turns and walks away.

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

Dear Reader,

Though there is much to report from Lady Danbury’s ball last night – the fashion, the food, the décor – This Author wants to focus on one moment in particular.

Now, Dear Reader, whilst you may wonder the importance of such a moment, remember that it is one’s job to observe all. That is why I want to bring attention to Mr. Benedict Bridgerton who found himself extremely popular last night, dancing with many eligible women and delighting them with his talents.

However, Dear Reader, this is not the moment I want to focus on.

No. Instead, I want to bring attention to the heart most likely suffering in silence as Mr. Bridgerton continues to charm the ton.

As you all know, I am not one to beat around the proverbial bush and hide identities, but for the sake of the woman who has found herself in love with the second eldest Bridgerton for as long she can remember, I shall endeavour to keep her name a secret.

Know, however, that This Author’s sympathies lie with you.

To love another unrequitedly is a dear shame.

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The gossip sheet is scrunched to a ball in your hands. It’s all you can do to keep the tears from falling down your face. As if you didn’t know your love was unrequited; as if you didn’t know you had all but doomed yourself to being a spinster as you wait for a man who did not know you loved him.

Lady Whistledown knew your secret, and your identity. As a result, the whole ton knew your secret but whatever morals the author possesses, she had not revealed your identity.

Summoning the carriage, you ask to be taken to Bridgerton House where you can speak to Eloise in confidence and ask for her advice on what she might do. Deep down, you had to know whether Benedict had read the paper too.

It doesn’t take long for Eloise to find you in the tea room; a cup of tea in your hands but readily ignored as you chew on the inside of your cheek. Her brown hair tied up in her usual bun, her eyes hold the pity you didn’t want to see or hear as of this moment.

“I didn’t know she was listening, I swear,” Eloise promises, sitting by your side and reaching for your hand.

“I know,” You comfort, “You would never tell a soul.”

“At least she didn’t reveal your identity,” Eloise chirps, trying to find a silver lining.

“Yet she has revealed my secret to the entirety of London society,” You sigh. Removing your hand from Eloise’s, you press your palm to your forehead, feeling overwhelmingly tired and desperate for the day to be over already. “Does he know?”

Eloise chews on her bottom lip, deciding whether to answer you. “He has read it,” She admits, but rushes to add, “He doesn’t know it’s you! He doesn’t have a clue really. He’s angrier at himself for not noticing anything was amiss.”

“I don’t know what to do,” You whisper, feeling helpless.

“For now,” Eloise states, “We do nothing.”

---------

Your heels sink into the soft carpet as you wander down the stairs, pausing only to check you have everything. Your mind remains elsewhere as you check your bag out of habit, the conversation with Eloise, the latest gossip sheet, your feelings for Benedict. They circle around your mind, leaving you dizzy in their wake as you try to make sense of them all, try to find your next step in and amongst the mess.

“(Y/N),” Benedict greets, hurrying down the final few stairs, pleasantly surprised, “What are you doing here? I didn’t know you were visiting.”

“I came to drop in on Eloise. I wanted to thank her for last night; she was an ear when I needed someone to listen.”

“Is it anything I can help with?” He asks, voice taking on a concerned note as he reaches out for you.

You shake your head, squeezing his hand in return. “For now, everything is okay.”

Benedict clears his throat. “I’m glad to hear it, but please come to me next time. I want to help if I can.”

“I will,” You promise, your eyes now scanning over his fine clothes. “Where are you off to?”

“An art exhibition at Somerset House. They’re showing some Holbein’s from the Royal collection.”

“Holbein’s?” You ask, shocked at the name falling from Benedict’s mouth.

He nods, just as excited. It was a rare thing indeed to have Holbein’s on display; they were usually kept in whatever royal residence they found themselves in; hidden away from the public eye. Art was the very foundation of your friendship; having seen so many of his sketches as a young boy and watching them develop into surer lines and confident strokes. Benedict was an exceptionally talented artist – something he would say about yourself. Benedict was the only person to see such work; the watercolours in your sketchpad leaving him breathless as you bring life to the inanimate.

“Would you like to join me?” He asks before he can talk himself out of it. He had barely seen you all season; you had closed in yourself, as if accepting a fate that you did not want. Benedict would do what he could to ensure your happiness for a little bit longer.

“Unchaperoned?”

A faint blush rises on Benedict’s cheeks as he realises what he has asked of you. “I shall ask Eloise to accompany us,” He suggests, turning to face the direction in which you had just come, “Did she mention any plans to you?”

You shake your head to which Benedict leases a sigh of relief. “I’ll go ask her now. I’m sure she won’t mind… much.”

Laughing quietly, you wait patiently in the entryway of Bridgerton House. The house in London so often felt like a second home to you; spending so much of childhood summers here when your mother would take tea with the Bridgerton matriarch. As you grew into your teens, you would begin to visit the house with just your maid, calling on the family for social niceties. The friendship with Benedict and Eloise only solidified your standing in the close family unit.

Eloise’s voice brings you back to the present. She walks down the stairs, accompanied by her brother. Taking one look at you, waiting patiently for the both of them, Eloise gets a mischievous look in her eye. It isn’t a look that leaves you in comfort, but rather leaves you wondering just what she has planned for the art exhibition.

“Eloise has so graciously accepted to join us,” Benedict announces, sounding rather pleased with himself.

Eloise smiles: a smile that sets Benedict’s nerves on edge. He would owe her for this, that much he knew. “I would be more than happy to accompany you, brother.”

Benedict resists the urge to groan; he’s in deep shit for this.

“Thank you, Eloise,” You murmur with a smile. Something in Eloise softens at your tone as if she would be unable to deny you this time with Benedict when it was their mother’s mission to see him married off this very season.

“Of course,” Eloise allows, glancing between you and Benedict – noting the longing in both sets of eyes. She shakes her head, gesturing to the door and where the carriages waits just beyond it. “Shall we?”

--------

“He wasn’t a handsome monarch, was he?” Eloise murmurs quietly, staring up at the grand portrait of the fearsome king who preferred executing his wives rather than loving them.

The walls of Somerset House have become dedicated to the eyes of the past. Past monarchs and relatives decorate the walls; their eyes following each attendant, as if curious to see how society is progressing less than three hundred years after the death of the artist.

Benedict chuckles; the very sound raising goosebumps across your skin. You barely repress the shiver the sound elicits. Trying your best to listen as the siblings argue about the reign of this particular monarch – the pros and the cons to what he did for the very country he ruled over for decades.

“Oh!” Eloise gasps, interrupting the argument and loosening her grip on your arm, she waves frantically at Penelope Featherington. “Would you mind terribly if I go say hello?”

“Not at all,” You laugh.

“You’re sure you’ll be okay with Benedict?”

The man in question scoffs, rolling his eyes at his little sister. “Off with you,” He dismisses, “I’ll escort (Y/N) – someone who actually appreciates the art.”

Eloise laughs as she turns away, but you do not miss the wink she sends in your direction. It hits you all at once; her mischievous look before you all left the house. She had concocted this plan in her head; accepting to accompany you as a rouse to get you and Benedict alone.

You didn’t know whether to appreciate her genius or hide her favourite book.

Jumping at the sound of someone clearing their throat, you focus your attention on Benedict. He watches you with an amused look, and it’s then that you realise that he has stood beside you waiting with his arm out for a minute or so whilst you glared after his younger sister. Taking his arm, you rid yourself of any thoughts of violence against Eloise. Instead, focusing on the man beside you.

“How are you?” You ask, hand resting gently on Benedict’s forearm.

“Do you mean in general or after today’s publication?”

“Both, I suppose.”

“In general, I am quite well. I have a wonderful lady on my arm, and I am in the presence of excellent art work. However, after today’s publication, I must admit I am rather angry.”

“Oh?” You sound, trying hard not to let his words affect you so much but they rattle around your mind on repeat, committing themselves where they will last for an eternity.

“I’ve never been the focus of the gossip paper and now after one ball, I am. I don’t think I like the attention.”

“I don’t believe that for one second, Benedict Bridgerton.”

He pauses, smiling widely down at you. His eyes light up with the smile and your heart begins to pound at the sight of it. “Alright, I do like the attention,” He concedes, “But what I don’t like are the looks I’m getting from all mothers.”

“Why?”

“They all look like I’m about to break their daughter’s heart.”

“I’m sure you’re just imagining things,” You reassure, tightening your grip on his arm.

“I don’t think I am,” He states, nodding politely at Lady Whitelaw who in turn glares at the younger man. He turns his gaze to you as if to say, see?

You turn your face away from him, trying your best to hide the smile and laugh that threatens to break free. “You’re laughing at me, aren’t you?” Benedict guesses, a smile in his own voice.

“I’m not,” You promise, schooling your face into a mask of indifference, focusing on the closest sketch to you. A graphite sketch of Anne Boleyn; marking her beauty only years before her death.

“You are,” Benedict argues, standing beside you, admiring the same sketch. Throwing him a knowing smile, you turn your attentions to rest of the exhibition, unable to hide your awe at just what is being shown to the public.

The art is incredible; your watercolours barely compare to what is being shown in Somerset House. He would disagree in a heartbeat, but Benedict could come close to producing something of this calibre. He had shown his portraits of his mother and brothers; Anthony making the perfect candidate for a painting.

You come to a natural stop in front of a portrait of a young women. A young queen, in fact. This particular queen had never got to reign in the manner that she was capable, dying after giving birth the king’s heir. His one true love, the king had called her after he death.

“She’s beautiful,” You whisper, admiring not only the artistry but also the focus on the painting.

Benedict watches you admiring the portrait painted so carefully by Holbein. Though the portrait is indeed beautiful, Benedict finds himself agreeing that they do not hold a candle to you. As he watches you lift a single hand, trying to dampen the urge to run your fingers over the brush strokes, he thinks to himself that there would be no artist on this earth that would be so talented to capture your beauty.

His breath comes faster; his heart rate increases. He recognises the symptoms; he’s only experienced such signs before. He had been eighteen then; barely a man but man enough to accept that he had fallen in love with his best friend. Years later, here he was, experiencing such feelings once more. Once more, he wonders what it would be like to be loved by you. He cannot help but hope that the mystery woman in the society papers is you.

-------

Dear Reader,

It seems that Mr. Benedict Bridgerton reads my paper!

He was overheard at the Somerset House Holbein exhibition, complaining to Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N) about my last column in which I criticised his treatment of the lady in love with him.

All I have to say on the matter is this:

Mr. Bridgerton, for every complaint you offer, you break her heart further. Stop now before you do irreparable damage.

-----

“What does she mean ‘break her heart further’? I’ve been trying to figure out who it is so I can put a stop to it!”

“It doesn’t matter whether you know who it is, Benedict,” You argue, placing your teacup on the table, “But rather the fact that you unknowingly hurt whoever it is that is in love with you.”

“Do my feelings not matter?” He demands, throwing the damned paper onto the table. Benedict runs a hand through his hair, sighing in frustration. “I’m sorry,” He apologises, “I should not have taken that tone with you. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“You’re forgiven,” You laugh, “I’ve heard you say a lot worse.”

He smiles though it doesn’t reach his eyes. Leaning forward on your chair, you wring your hands together, working up the nerve. “What feelings haven’t they taken into account?”

“Lady Whistledown,” He spits the name with derision, “Hasn’t taken into account that I may not have noticed someone in love with me because I am in love with someone myself.”

It’s as if the chair is pulled out from under you; your stomach dips and flips as the world crashes around you and Benedict is none the wiser. He’s none the wiser to the palpable shift that has taken place. Instead, he’s sat down across from, looking utterly defeated.

“Does she know?” You ask after a moment of silence, using the time to pull yourself back together, to compile it all and put it away for later.

Benedict shakes his head; eyes sad as he watches you. “Why haven’t you told her?” You ask, unable to stop the questions now they’re on the tip of your tongue.

“I suppose for the same reason she hasn’t told me. Fear maybe?”

“Fear of what? I’ve never known you to be afraid of anything.”

“Fear of rejection. Fear of humiliation. Fear of ruining a friendship,” He lists off, counting the reasons on his fingers, holding them up for you to see.

“Have you thought about telling her?”

“All the time,” He answers honestly, and you wonder whether the crack your heart makes was audible to the whole of the ton.

“Do you plan on telling them?”

“Eventually.”

You take a deep breath, staring at the teacup instead of him, readying yourself to offer up your broken heart. To confess that the two most recent society papers have been about you; have shown your heart to the whole of London.

“It’s me,” You confess quietly, voice no louder than a whisper but he hears you all the same.

Benedict’s head whips towards you. Had this been another situation, it would have been funny, but the look on his face… “What?” He whispers, shocked.

“It’s me,” You announce; louder this time, ready to lay your heart out on the floor for him to break entirely. “It’s me, Benedict. Lady Whistledown must have overheard Eloise and myself talking at Lady Danbury’s ball the other night. She had caught me watching you dance and asked me outright. I couldn’t deny it. I’ve been in love with you for years, Benedict. For as long as I can remember.”

“For as long as you can remember?”

You nod, wringing your hands together once more. “I didn’t realise until I turned twenty, just what my feelings meant. I think I’ve always been in love with you, Benedict.”

Benedict remains silent; eyes wide, hands slack as they rest on his thighs. He looks like he doesn't believe the very words leaving your mouth; as if he is unworthy of the love you offer him so willingly.

“Say something, please,” You plead, “I know it isn’t proper for the woman to announce her feelings for the man, but I couldn’t keep it a secret any longer. Not when it is the focus for Lady Whistledown to sell more copies of her paper.”

“I didn’t know,” He whispers after a prolonged silence.

“You weren’t to know. You don’t have to feel the same, Benedict.”

“I do as it happens.”

“What?”

“I do feel the same,” Benedict clarifies, standing from his chair, “I’ve loved you since I was eighteen.”

You sniffle slightly; emotional from hearing the words you have longed to hear for years. The words that have haunted your dreams; had you rushing from sleep, so you didn’t let yourself believe an alternate reality.

“You do?”

Benedict nods, “I do. I love you very much.”

“I love you too,” You reply, standing from your chair, reaching for him – not wanting anymore space between the two of you.

He dips his head, pausing mere millimetres away from your lips. The question burns in his eyes; desperate to know whether he can kiss you after so long waiting. Your nod is barely imperceptible but it’s nod, nonetheless.

Slowly, almost wanting to savour every moment, Benedict presses his lips to yours. Reaching up, you haul him closer, wanting to feel every inch of him pressed against you after having waited so long, after having dreamed of this moment for too long.

He tastes like tea and his hands bring to life the butterflies in your stomach as they wander the path of your back, settling on your lower back, dipping you slightly. Benedict groans softly at the feel of you lined up against him. If he had known heaven was this close, he would not have waited this long.

Benedict breaks the kiss; not out of need of air, but to stop himself from taking this too far when you feel like heaven pressed against him. You smile widely, kissing his jaw lovingly before starting to laugh lightly. Benedict’s hands on your waist tighten possessively as he joins you in laughter.

Briefly, he wonders whether this is what it feels like to be loved by you.

********

Bridgerton Taglist: @heloisedaphnebrightmore @dreaming-about-fanfictions @now-its-time-for-a-breakdown

#benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton #benedict x reader #bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton imagines

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peachbear88 · 3 years

Text

Happier

A/N: Inspired by "happier" by Olivia Rodrigo.

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

"Y/N, come on, it's just one party!" You groan as Nat towers above you, exaggerated puppy eyes pasted on her face.

"I'm not going!" The puppy eyes slide off and are replaced with annoyance.

"It's been a month already Y/N! You need to get over her!" Nat exclaims exasperatedly, referring to your beloved ex, Wanda. It was a mutual breakup, or at least that's what you thought before the feelings of despair and longing welled up inside you. "They have free alcohol." Your head snaps up to face her.

"Deal."

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

You sit on the bar stool, half splayed out on the as the bartender slides a third shot glass down the table towards you. You fumble before catching it, swiftly downing it. Tony Stark, host of the night sidles up to you, frowning.

"Y/N, that's like your third shot. You can't just drink the whole night." You glare at him, snappy retort ready to roll of your tongue but it dies in your throat when your eyes land on a particular auburn-haired beauty. Wanda Maximoff. Tony follows your gaze and sighs. "Y/N, you need to let it go. It was a month ago. She's got a girlfriend! She's moving on, why can't you?" You grunt, signaling for the bartender to pass you another shot. Tony shoos him off and the bartender hands your drink to another person.

"What the hell Stark? If you're going to make me attend your stupid party, at least let me drink what I want." You grab him by the collar, shaking him. He groans in disgust before grabbing you by the arm and leading you to where Nat is dancing with a young, beautiful girl.

"Romanoff, I'm not babysitting alcohol dump here." He passes you off to Nat who looks you up and down.

"I leave you alone for 20 minutes and you go straight to the bar?" You mumble incoherently and Nat dumps you on a nearby couch before tossing a water bottle at you. "Stay here and don't do anything dumb." She warns you before returning her attention to the girl from earlier. You take a swig of the water, your eyes scanning the room. Drunk couples, making out, grinding, doing whatever drunk people did. You wince at the burn of alcohol dying down as a familiar scent invades your senses.

"Hey." You turn to find Wanda smiling brightly at you, her hand wrapped around the waist of a fairly pretty blonde lady. Your throat goes dry at the sight of your ex.

"Hi."

It's awkward for a moment before she begins introducing her date.

"Sorry, uh, this is Carol. My uh, girlfriend." Wanda clears her throat as Carol smiles, sticking her hand out to you. You smile coldly, shaking her hand.

"Nice to meet you Y/N. I've heard quite a bit about you." You arch an eyebrow. "Don't worry, all good things." You let out a light chuckle before standing up.

"Well it was lovely to see you but I'd better get going. That alcohol isn't going to drink itself." You excuse yourself, not noticing the apprehensive look on Wanda's face. "It was lovely to see you, Wanda, Carol." You give them a forced, yet charming smile before stalking back to the bar.

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

Downing shot after shot, the party was still going strong. Fortunately, you hadn't run into Wanda and Carol after your first encounter except for occasional glimpses of them conversing with others. You make your way towards the small stage with the microphone on it in a drunken haze. You pluck the microphone out of it's stand only to be greeted with loud feedback. Heads pop up throughout the room to stare at your face. You tap at the microphone before bursting out into song, your voice rough from all the alcohol.

"We broke up a month ago,"

"Your friends are mine,"

"You know I know,"

"You've moved on, found someone new."

'One more girl who brings out the better in you."

"And I thought my heart was detached,"

"From all the sunlight of our past."

"But she's so sweet,"

"She's so pretty."

'Does she mean you forgot about me?"

"Oh I hope, you're happy,"

"But not, how you were with me."

"I'm selfish I know,"

"I can't let you go.

"So find someone great but don't find no one better."

"I hope you're happy,

"But don't be happier."

"And do you tell her she's the most beautiful girl you've ever seen?"

"An eternal love bullshit you know you'll never mean."

"Remember when I believed,"

"You meant it when you said it first to me?"

"And now I'm picking her apart."

"Like cuttin' her down will make you miss my wretched heart."

"But she's beautiful. She looks kind."

"She probably gives you butterflies."

"I hope, you're happy,"

"But not, like how you were with me."

"I'm selfish I know,"

"I can't let you go."

"So find someone great but don't find no one better."

"I hope you're happy,"

"I wish you all the best really."

"Say you love her baby,"

"Just not like you loved me."

"And think of me fondly when your hands are on her."

"I hope you're happy, but don't be happier."

You take a deep breath, drunken tears pricking your eyes as you vocalize softly as more heads turn your way and some people even sway to your voice. Tucked away in a little corner, Wanda watches you, oblivious to the woman beside her. Her nose scrunches up in confusion, attempting to decipher the meaning of the heartfelt song.

"I hope you're happy,"

"Just not like how you were with me."

"I'm selfish, I know,"

"I can't let you go."

"So find someone great, but don't find no one better."

"I hope you're happy,"

"But don't be happier."

Your voice trails off as applause drowns you, people roaring in approval as you stumble off the small stage, bursting out of the building. The night air slaps you, sobering you up. You clutch your head, splitting migraines erupting as a familiar presence joins you outside.

"That was some performance." You look up to see Wanda, smirking. You flush, turning away from her. Wanda kneels next to you, her voice softening.

"Did you really mean it?" You snort, refusing to look at her.

"What does it matter? You're with someone, you're happy, you've moved on." You wipe at the rapid tears trailing down.

"It matters because Carol and I decided we were best as friends. She knew that my heart was somewhere else." You tentatively turn to look at her.

"Where was it?" She smiles, leaning in.

"With you."

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

Yayyy! Cool beans! If anyone has any song recommendations, I will gladly take them. Please.

Taglist: @username23345 @musicinourlips @gingerbreadcookieforlife @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @trikuismybitch @ima-gi--na-tion @nicole-rayleigh-hot

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda fluff #wanda angst #wanda maximoff #wanda x reader

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anothertimdrakestan · 4 years

Text

Batboys Getting Betrayed By Their S/O HC

Requested? Yes! From a lovely anon!

“Hello! I'd like to make a Batboys reaction request if I may! If writing for all of them is too much please pick whoever you'd like! Have fun with it! Batboys finally catch the villain they've been after for a disgusting amount of time, they grab their mask/helmet, rip it off and BAM!! It's their S/O. How do they react? Thank you for your time!!”

THIS HC TURNED INTO AN EPIC COLLAB BETWEEN @birdy-bat-riya AND WE POPPED OFF!!! Riya really said “lets break the boys heart then give them the best fluff in the world” and I agreed then BAM this beauty. I hope you enjoy and I’m super excited to collab w my tumblr soulmate more!!!

ALSO GO CHECKOUT STAY WITH ME A TIM DRAKE FIC THAT IS KINDA LIKE THIS IF YOU WANT STORYLINE IT’S ONE OF MY FAVES!!!

Damian Wayne

- Damian would not see it coming

- after a painful bout of hand to hand combat, Robin had you stuck to a wall with Batarangs, and he stalked forward

- hoping he would get pulled away by Batman so wouldn’t notice your similarity to the love of his life, you sucked in a deep breath as you realized there was no escape

- “The great villainous sidekick defeated by Robin. Sounds good doesn’t it? But I want to know just who I bested” he quipped, reaching for your mask

- as he pulled it off he froze, your mask dropped to the ground as you began begging for forgiveness

- “Baby it’s not what it looks like! I’m sorry you know I couldn’t tell you! I love you Damian please understand!” you cried, pulling against the batarangs you felt your suit rip as you jumped to the ground reaching for Damian

- Damian looked beyond stunned, trying to process the idea that the one person he trusted above all had betrayed him. He’d spent months hunting, fighting, deeply wound you, then calling you beloved just a couple days later

- pulling yourself forward you flung your arms around him, trying to love him into submission

- instinctively his arms began to wrap around you and you could feel the material of his gloves grace over the exposed parts of your side from where your suit ripped, but he drew them back, pushing you off of him

- “belov- Y/N” his tone was harsh, and broken, “is this really you? You knew I was Robin, and yet you lied to me every day? Learned my weaknesses and my truths all just to use it against me?” you could see him shaking, his domino mask hid his glassy eyes but not his heart broken expression

- you realized he thought you’d only befriended him to use him and you jumped to explain “No! Babe never! I keep this life and our life completely separate! I never used anything and would never tell your secrets to anyone! This, this life [ you gestured to your suit ] is out of necessity, for my survival I have to be strong. But with you, Damian, with you life is worth living, you make my battles worth fighting, everything I do is for us!” you realized how good it felt to let everything go, tears streaming down your face

- Damian looked conflicted, broken because of your betrayal, but you could tell he still loved you

- “Y/N you know I can keep you safe, why? Why live this life when you know of the one we could’ve had together?” Damian

- “I didn’t think of it that way” you whispered, thoughts flying through your head

- “Then let me help you” was all Damian said, and he reached out a hand

- Batman and your boss appeared behind you and Robin, both confused with what was happening

- Bruce looked shocked to see who the villain’s sidekick was, but he was trying to keep his Batman level confidence

- “C’mon kid lets go” you felt a tug on your shoulder, trying to lead you back to your base, but the look Damian was giving you stopped you, unable to turn your shoulder on him

- this was Damian asking you to pick a new life with him. And you knew he was the only thing that truly made him happy, but this would be the end of your reputation, and your safety

- you began to reach for Damian but stopped, needing his reassurance

- “you promise you’ll protect me?”

- “always.” you took his hand, falling into his arms, and decided a future with Damian was better than anything else

Dick Grayson

- Dick didn’t know you were Slade’s protege after Dick told him no all those years ago

- you knew he thought of your villain persona as his greatest opponent and you couldn’t break his heart

- you’d both been in the good guy vs bad guy business since you were kids so you couldn’t expect him to understand, so you hid it.

- he told you he was Nightwing a couple months before and your heart dropped realizing you’d been fighting the love of your life for years, and were trained by one of his greatest tormentors

- in a terrible turn of events you, Nightwing, and Slade all ended up fighting each other, Nightwing and you after Slade for seperate reasons just before his escape he noticed how you couldn’t hurt Dick like you used to

- in an act of revenge for you leaving his side all those years ago, he shouted “catch you later sweet Y/N!” before jumping out a window out of your sight

- Dick’s head whipped to you, a look of confusion at Slade knowing your identity

- hoping he’d missed it you tried to run out of the building and take off

- angy Dick is basically super powered so he caught you (yes i said angy)

- when he rips off your mask and the face he’d adored for years looks up at him he physically can’t stand

- watching the love of your life crumple to the ground is the hardest thing you’ve endured

- frantically trying to explain you keep trying to cup his face in your hand but he pulls away, refusing to look you in the eyes, eventually finding the strength to get up and grapple away

- the entire batfam goes after you. Damian especially, because he trusted you, glad Dick had someone that loved him the way he secretly did. There is no way you’re gonna get away from an angry Batfam especially when their mutual favorite brother has been broken

- I honestly don’t think Dick would let it go back to normal. His family would never approve and knowing you lied for months was too much, he knows what is good and bad for him and is surrounded by family.

- One day the two of you would team up and apologize, continuing forward as mutuals that come when the other needs you, but Dick wouldn’t be able to look at you the same, and Damian would never leave his side, refusing to let Dick get hurt again

Jason Todd

- Jason was used to coming home to you bruised and cut. He never liked to see you battered and bleeding, but he understood it was part of your job as a Criminal Investigator.

- at least that’s what he thought

- you were used to seeing him beat up too. The only difference was that you knew the real reason he came home beaten and injured.

- it was because he would spend his nights fighting you.

- you truly loved Jason, but you couldn't bear to break his heart by telling him the truth. That the woman he loved was his sworn enemy and was lying about it.

- little did you know, he was beginning to get suspicious of your injuries. They seemed a little extreme for an investigative agent, and dare he say, they seemed to match the injuries his enemy walked away with last night.

- then one night, it happened. You were being chased by Red Hood. You thought you were in the clear. And knowing jason would be home any minute, you headed back home, hopping from rooftop-to-rooftop.

- you stopped in the parking lot of your building, about to take off your mask when you heard a voice. Red Hood was leaning on your car, looking more tense than usual. “Go on. Take off the mask.”

- you were mortified. You tried to run but he caught you and you were cornered. He took off the mask and you looked down, afraid to meet his eyes.

- he wasn’t startled or shocked. You heard the seams of his gloves rip as he clenched his fist. You looked up and saw him scowling, but behind the anger, there was so much disappointment. You could see his heart breaking.

- he stepped back and began to walk away. You tried so hard to explain and apologize but he only turned you down, unwilling to see your face.

- realizing everything was ruined, you gave one final apology. “Jason, I know you can’t forgive me. But I truly am sorry. I'm sorry for lying, I’m sorry for hurting you, I’m sorry for everything. But I promise, I really do love you. And I know you might not believe me, but I mean every word.” Tears were streaming down your face, and he wouldn’t let you see it, but they were brimming in his.

- you left and didn’t come back. You kept your distance from Jason but made sure you knew was still alright. He was frequenting bars, skipping patrols. You began to worry when he was nowhere to be found, so you donned the mask once more, only without your usual uniform.

- that night, to your disbelief, you found the Red Hood fighting some petty cat burglars outside of a museum. You noticed how his punches held more force than they used to and felt a little pained, seeing his hurt in his movements.

- while he was taking care of the robbers, you saw one of them run off to a car with a jade vase and instinctively charged in. You hopped in the car roof and swung into the passenger seat, knocked out the driver, and safely drove the car back.

- you put the vase back where it belonged and left the scene of the crime without anyone’s attention.

- Red Hood turned the burglars over to the cops. There was something about a tripped alarm and missing vase but the item was kept exactly where it was meant to be when they checked.

- he was about to trudge away when he heard something. “This masked broad, she jumped into the car! From the bloody window!” His mind wandered. It couldn’t be…

- that night, you returned to one of your old safehouses and headed to your closet to put away your mask, but the first thing you saw was your suit. You looked at the domino mask in your hand and all you could remember was Jason’s face when he found out. Right then and there, you threw it all away.

- months passed. You hadn’t heard from or seen Jason Todd. You revamped your suit and donned a new mask. You went by your old name still. You couldn’t change who you were, and you didn't want to either.

- the only difference now was that you didn’t kill. something tilted the needle on your moral compass, and as much you wanted to deny it, Jason rubbed off on you.

- you took your burglary jobs, and got into your own type of trouble, but you could almost always handle it. Emphasis on the ‘almost’

- once or twice you bit off more than you could chew, for example the time when you needed to collect some money from a Bludhaven gang. you were outnumbered and unarmed. just when you thought it was all over for you, you heard two gunshots and violent cursing.

- you found yourself standing before two gangsters with bloody hands and one Red Hood. “You’re welcome.”, he said with his usual snarky tone, muffled by his helmet.

- this was the first of many times he would save you. You would drop in on his gigs sometimes as well, just to lend a helping gun.

- bad blood aside, you were always there for eachother. He meant it as a silent acceptance of your apology and that’s exactly how you took it.

- soon enough the tension faded, you both went down your own roads but found comfort in knowing that you were never alone. It was an unspoken pact that when one of you needed the other, you’d never be far.

Tim Drake

- Tim would notice something, maybe you stuffing your suit in your trunk, you using a phrase his enemy always used, something that gave him the wrong feeling

- he’d push it away, always wanting to believe the best of you

- but eventually it wouldn’t add up

- Tim came over one night and made a beeline to the back of your closet, a drawer he never saw you open during all the years of knowing you

- you heard a small gasp when he pulled out the suit of his rival, the strangled sound of disbelief was the last noise he made before he threw your suit on the floor and stormed out, and it was the last you saw of him for months

- watching the news seeing “RED ROBIN GONE BAD?” or “IS THIS IS THE SAME HERO?” as you watched Tim become more and more reckless and cruel. Tim rarely got so physical the medics came instead of the police but watching him through your screen you saw a new person

- seeing Tim (and Red Robin) break down on television gave you the realization of the necessity behind Tim’s heroics

- almost as an homage to his heart break he began using the moves you’re villainous alter ego used on him on his new targets, showing you the hurt and the damage you’d done to your victims

- after weeks of watching the torture you knew villainy wasn’t worth it if it meant Tim was broken like this

- knowing he’d be on patrol like always you waited on the top of the building he’d brought you to the night you started dating, hoping he’d miss the memory as much as you did

- rushing up to him, begging for him to listen, even after the heart break Tim couldn’t say no to you, and he needed to know why, this was a mystery he really couldn’t piece together

- frantically explaining everything from your childhood forward, you couldn’t stop, the honestly was refreshing, and Tim listened the whole time

- after admitting everything you brought your suit out, and in front of Tim you began to rip it to shreds, hoping he’d see the meaning behind your words

- this was a lot for Tim, and he asked for a week to settle his feelings

- Red Robin was inactive for a week, 168 hours you spent praying to anything that he’d take you back

- and exactly one week later, you were holding your head in your hands sobbing, wishing you could’ve changed earlier and hoping Tim would go back to his heroism - when you heard your apartment window carefully opening

- Tim came back, suited up, holding a new suit for you that he’d had created

- Tim explained that he wanted you back, and he intended on helping you fix all your past mistakes, one life saved at a time

- you often looked back on the news from that week, the headlines showed a new chapter of your life

“RED ROBIN AND NIGHTINGALE Y CRIME FIGHTING DUO!” “RED ROBIN IS BACK AND BETTER THAN EVER WITH A NEW HERO AT HIS SIDE!”

I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS IS A REMINDER TO GO FOLLOW @birdy-bat-riyaBECAUSE SHE IS THE REASON THIS IS SO AMAZING ILY GIRLY

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spirkmemrspock · 3 years

Note

fake dating with a little bit of there was only one bed?

Send me Spirk prompts

"Captain, I must myself declare much happiness to have found you not married,” Jim’s translator circuit provided, parsing Emperor Ohllak’s words in a somewhat clunky manner. “I, therefore, offer my beloved son's hand in marriage," the monarch exclaimed, motioning to the young prince to his side.

"Oh,” Jim gulped, surprised, “I'm sorry Emperor Ohllak, but I can't accept your offer."

"And why, in our Goddess Kuruna's name, can't you accept? Keep in mind Captain that in the great nation-land of Phnturia, refusing a royal's request is a war crime! I myself do not suppose the Federation would have sent a representative so willing to affront us!"

"Of course not, Ambassador. You see, the thing is... I…” Quick Jim, think of something! “I already have a boyfriend." Shit, not that!

"Boyfriend? You have a male... friend? I do not understand how this impedes you from marrying my Aanya."

"Well, you see...Emperor Ohllak...That is why we've arrived at this misunderstanding.” Fuck, Jim thought, he was only stalling at this point. Sometimes I can’t believe the things that come out of my stupid mouth. “I'm not married. But… I'm also not... single."

"You Captain have an intended?" The prince suggested helpfully, making Jim almost want to kiss him in the mouth.

"Yes! Yes, Aanya. You could say that I have an intended."

"And where is this intended, Captain Kirk? It is a terrible omen to travel without your spouse or spouse-to-be,” the Emperor boomed, shaking his vibrant tentacles vigorously as this species seemed to do when in agitation. “Oh, the great nation-land of Phnturia does not wish to form relations with beings of bad fortune!"

"Well, h-he—" Yeah, Jim, you dumbass, where is your imaginary fantastical boyfriend—

"He is right here.” Jim immediately knew whose voice it was behind him but still couldn’t help turning around in alarm. “I am the Captain's intended."

"Gods, Spock. You really saved my ass back there,” Jim gushed as they entered the guest quarters offered to them. “I don't know how to thank you enough. And I'm sorry that my little ruse means you're now forced to bunk with me."

"No thanks or apologies are necessary, Captain. It was Commodore Oh's responsibility to brief us on the details about the Phnturians traditions and values. And her office, as of late, has failed to do so."

"You really have a bone to pick with Oh's new tactical officer, don’t you,”

“I have ‘a bone’, as you say, Captain, with inefficiency and incompetence.”

“Wow, inefficiency and incompetence, even for you that’s hard. You must really be upset about our sleeping arrangements."

“No, Captain, that is not—”

“Relax, Spock. I’m just messing with you. Besides, we’ve shared quarters before it’s no big deal, right? Although...” Jim trailed off as he took in properly the room’s sleeping alcove. The smell of the room was divine, like vanilla, lavender, and strangely, freshly cut grass. There was no bed frame or mattress, only an elevated platform with a silk tent filled with an assortment of colorful pillows and quilts; the path leading up to it covered in white petals. There were also no artificial lights of any kind because the walls in that corner were completely transparent, letting the planet’s two moons loom brightly over them. He had never seen one, but Jim imagined that was how the newlyweds’ suites in a pleasure planet looked like. “Phnturians really go all out for couples, huh.” He turned to Spock but for some reason couldn’t look him straight in the eyes. “So, right tent side or left?”

Jim laid on his back staring at Phnturia's starry sky through the sheer fabric of their tent. He had tried miserably to fall asleep until he resigned himself to count shooting stars. His bed partner was turned away from him, completely still, but he somehow knew Spock was also awake.

The mission had been a success, the Emperor had lost interest in Jim's marital status and accepted the Federation's proposal for a mutually beneficial deal trade. But at what cost, Jim thought to himself. Spock had rescued him willingly from his loose tongue, only to give Jim the cold shoulder for the remainder of negotiations. Jim tried joking about their situation in an attempt to clear the air between them, but Spock was too far gone into the stiff and mechanical demeanor reminiscent of their earlier days. And just when Jim thought he'd started warming up to him.

"I'm sorry, Spock," Jim finally murmured, he couldn't stand the abyss that had formed between them any second longer. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable today. I don't even know why I said what I said."

"Apologies are unnecessary,” said Spock, back still turned to him.

"No. They are necessary when I have clearly crossed a boundary here. I know how much you guard your personal life and I as your captain, and friend, ought to never force you into a compromising position. Plus, you were forced to back me up on this lie when Uhura was right there,” Jim sighed. “And now you can’t even share a room on a gorgeous planet with your gorgeous girlfriend.”

“Jim.” Spock finally turned around to face him, brown furrowed in confusion.“ Lt. Uhura and I have terminated our relationship 5.2 months ago.”

“Wait, what? Well, ok. I didn’t know that, but anyway, my point still stands. I just want things to go back to normal between us." Spock remained silent, avoiding Jim’s gaze. "Talk to me, Spock. Please. I can't know what's going on in your head unless you talk to me."

"I do not... I do not wish for things to go on as before."

"You...?" Jim swallowed hard. "You don't want to work with me anymore?"

"No, Jim. On the contrary, the notion of being... involved with you in an amorous manner was extremely appealing to me. And for that, I am the one who must apologize. I am the one who crossed a boundary. I have already begun drafting my transfer papers and—"

Spock never got to finish his sentence because Jim stopped him with the only way his dumbass brain could come up with at that moment: with his own mouth.

"What now?"

"Now, Jim?"

"Yeah, what do we do? This doesn't have to, um, complicate things, if you don't want it to."

"I believe we do not have to do anything."

"Yeah, you're right, it was stupid of me to assume—"

"Since we have told our entire landing party I am your 'intended', and those officers have by now passed on this information to the whole crew, I believe we must continue to act accordingly. Lest we are accused of spreading falsehoods."

"Yeah, Mr. Spock, we can’t lie to our crew."

“No, we cannot, Jim.”

#i might expand this idea later on #thank you for the prompt i had loads of fun!#anonymous #ask game #spirk #drabbles #*

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2manyfandoms2count · 3 years

Text

Love you (not) - Chapter 1

I can't believe it's already @marichatmay again... What a year. This time, I won't be jumping in completely blindly into the challenge, I've got it mostly planned out in a single fic, which starts on the same day as Weredad, but embraces the fake-dating shenanigans because yes. This relationship will be mutually unrequited from our beloved characters' point of view, until it's not anymore.

Hope you enjoy!

Read on AO3 | Next

---

Chapter 1: In which the author sees the fake dating shenanigans canon provided and deems they weren’t enough

“That’s because I’m… In love with you!”

The words still echoed in Marinette’s head hours after they’d been said, and covering her eyes and ears with her arms as she laid in bed did nothing to make them less loud.

Stupid words coming out of her mouth unbidden. Untrue, too.

She ought to have told Chat Noir that she’d had every right to be standing on her rooftop at night, after an Akuma had destroyed her room. She totally would’ve been allowed to feel slightly claustrophobic and want to take a breath of fresh air; or even to want to check that everything was back to normal.

But noooooo. She’d had to declare her love for him. She grunted at the thought that saying she had a crush on him would have been more than enough. He would’ve gotten the gist, he could’ve turned her down gently, and they could have marched on as if nothing had happened. It wasn’t like they ran into each other that often - like this, anyway.

But now Chat was coming over for lunch with her family, and he’d surely want an explanation. How could she backtrack? How could she explain to him that she’d blurted the first thing that had come to her mind to avoid him discovering that she was his superhero partner, whom he happened to be in love with, without telling him that part? You don’t just accidentally confess your love to someone instead of saying you were just hanging out on your balcony.

She tossed in her bed. She had to solve the situation. She had to come clean to him at lunch, at least to clear her conscience.

Maybe sleep would help organise her thoughts so she wouldn’t say anything stupid.

If she could only get the damn words out of her head.

---

“That’s because I’m… In love with you!”

Saying Marinette’s words had been unexpected was probably the understatement of the year, Adrien thought as he lay in bed, staring at the ceiling.

His first thought after seeing her had been that she must’ve been a fan. Of Ladybug, at least, and maybe of his. Given how close she and Alya were, he wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d been out to catch something to contribute to the Ladyblog. After all, her balcony had been a particularly excellent spot that night to snatch some close-up pictures of the heroes, and maybe even an interview.

Not to mention the other reason that explained her presence, which he’d realised after giving it a little more thought: they’d been fighting quite literally on her doorstep.

But even if he could’ve thought about it for ages, there was no way that he could have even suspected the real reason she’d been waiting on her balcony. That she was in love with him. With Chat Noir.

But then again, he thought as he shifted to his side, maybe it did make sense. It kind of explained why she didn’t have a significant other (not that girls needed a boyfriend or a girlfriend, but couples were pretty common at Françoise Dupont). Given how kind and amazing Marinette was, and how many people had had crushes on her (Nino being a fine exhibit A), Adrien had kind of wondered why she didn’t have people flocking around to ask her out. Her being in love with Chat Noir was new information for him, but maybe it was common knowledge, and he just hadn’t paid enough attention.

It wasn’t like they talked about their feelings much at school, he supposed, wondering if that meant she didn’t trust him enough to confide in him. He shook away the small wave of sadness and... was it yearning? that overcame him at the thought, and recentered the topic.

The point was, he’d been too taken by surprise by Marinette’s confession to process it in time and turn her down in the gentlest way possible. Or even at all.

If anything, he’d dived straight into a potential relationship by accepting lunch at her parents’.

That didn’t send out the right message at all.

He had to fix it. Soon, before it got out of hand, so as not to lead her on. He had to do it the next day.

Sleep would help him make his rebuttal as smooth as possible.

If only he could just get her words out of his head.

---

As she stood guard on her balcony the next morning, threatening grey clouds hanging over the horizon, Marinette entertained the hope that Chat Noir wouldn’t come over at all, which would solve the problem of coming clean to him, and the newly formed outrage that Chat Noir was falling in love way too easily these days. So much for the strength of his love towards Ladybug, really.

It seemed a little cowardly for him not to respect his commitment to lunch, but it had been pretty last minute, and kind of surreal; she would have understood, and she was sure her parents would have as well. It wasn’t like Chat Noir wasn’t one of the superheroes of Paris; she would have been ready to sign him a waver as Ladybug saying he’d been dealing with some Very Important Business on the other side of town if the topic ever came up with her parents.

This is why she was almost surprised to see him vault across the rooftops, clearly making his way towards the Dupain-Cheng Bakery, just as she’d been ready to give up on his presence. She grunted internally as Tikki gloated, and made her way downstairs to greet him.

Tom stood proudly next to the table, which she’d laid out for four people. She hid an embarrassed eye roll. It almost felt like he was the one who was waiting for his date. At least, he seemed a lot more excited about it than she was.

“Come on Marinette, open the door for him!” He all but pushed her towards the entrance.

She did as she was told, and had barely had time to register Chat Noir’s greeting when she was pushed aside, Tom engulfing her guest in a bear hug. She facepalmed. This was not sending the right message at all .

He’s going to think that I stayed up all night gushing about him to my parents, and that I’m convinced that I’m going to marry him even though we’ve only talked like twice before, this is a disaster, he’s going to think I’m insane and -

Her inner freak out was interrupted by her mother reminding her father that Chat Noir did need to breathe, which coincidentally shut down any analysis of why Chat thinking she was insane would be such a terrible thing, when really, sending him running would solve most of her immediate problems.

She was suddenly facing her partner with a mind void of all social etiquette. How did one greet someone one had recently declared their love to? Was shaking hands appropriate? Or was it more of an elaborate fistbump situation? This situation would be a lot less awkward if my parents weren’t staring and- woah, what does he think he’s doing?? She thought as she saw Chat lean forward with his lips puckered up. Surely we’re not there yet?! Even if I told him I loved him?

She froze as his face approached hers, her lips automatically kissing Chat’s cheeks when she realised he was simply going in for the classic, friendly, Parisian bise . Thank goodness , she sighed discreetly as they pulled away.

“Here, I wasn’t sure what to bring,” Chat Noir scratched the back of his head awkwardly as he handed her a rose.

A pale pink rose, she noted as she took it. Symbolising gentleness and gratitude. He wasn’t jumping into this relationship like he did with Ladybug. There was hope yet.

“Thank you, that’s very thoughtful of you,” she replied with a smile, interrupting her father before he blurted out whatever well-meaning, but unhelpful and slightly embarrassing speech he had lined up. She turned towards her parents. “Maman, Papa, is lunch ready yet?”

“Not exactly, I’m sorry, Mr. Chat Noir, I wasn’t exactly sure when you were arriving…” Tom replied a little sheepishly.

“That’s perfect! I mean, it’s fine, Papa, don’t worry about it. Can Chat Noir and I go upstairs for a bit?” Marinette laughed awkwardly.

Sabine smiled knowingly, and put a hand on her husband’s arm. “I think that’s a great idea. Tom, why don’t you prepare some vol-au-vents for them to snack on?”

“Of course!” Marinette watched her father rush around the corner and pile the amuse-bouches on a plate. “You’ll have to tell me what you think, I tried a new recipe in honour of young love.” He shoved the plate in Marinette’s hands and all but pushed them up the stairs. “Have fun, you two! And leave the door open!”

Marinette ran up the stairs and put the plate down on her desk before hiding her face in her hands, mortified. “I’m so sorry about my Dad.” She peeked at Chat Noir from behind her fingers. “He’s not usually this intense with people he’s just met.”

“I kind of like it, actually.” Chat smiled. “It’s nice that he cares.” He picked up a vol-au-vent and studied it, before gobbling it down. Marinette could have sworn that his gaze had darkened.

She played with a piece of fabric that poked out from her project hamper, unsure what to say next. Chat ate another pastry. In the silence that surrounded them, the slight pitter-patter of the rain that had finally broken out on her roof was deafening.

“Listen, I need to tell you something-” They both started simultaneously.

“You go,” Marinette gestured towards him.

“No, you,” he gestured back.

“You’re the guest, you should go first,” she encouraged him.

Chat Noir took a deep breath and accepted to bite the bullet. “Listen, Marinette, I really like you. You’re amazing. To be honest, I’d love to know you better…” He scratched the back of his head.

Marinette had bitten the inside of her cheeks as she kept a smiling façade during his praise, but she had to interrupt him. “Chat… I really don’t want you to feel uncomfortable, I put you on the spot last nice and I’d really hate you to think that because I... have feelings for you,” she winced as she spoke, even though she knew deep inside that there was no better way of putting it and that she had to stick with her lie, “you have to go out with me or something, or even stay here.”

“There’s no obligation, I promise, Marinette,” Chat said earnestly as he looked at her put on a brave face. It was just like her to put her feelings aside if it could make him happy, but he couldn’t just leave. He had to make sure she was alright. She deserved that much, if not more. She was such a great friend.

“But really, if you have better things to do, I’d totally understand it…”

In the peculiar light of the spring shower, Marinette looked particularly anxious and tormented, Chat Noir noted. Leaving now, even though it would be best in the long run, was just a recipe for an Akuma. And if she did indeed get akumatised, he would feel like he’d planted a seed, and their environment had quite literally immediately gone to water it.

“If it’s what you want…” He probed.

Marinette realised that Chat looked very dejected at the idea of leaving; the way he gazed longingly at the vol-au-vents made her question if her partner ate enough as a civilian. She sighed as she saw that outside, the rain had intensified. She really couldn’t let him go now. Cats didn't mix well with water.

“ A table! ” Her mother’s voice came exactly at the right moment.

“I’d be very happy if you stayed.” She smiled, extending a hand towards him.

“Really?” His tone was hopeful as he walked towards her and took it.

“Yeah.” She led him downstairs, shaking her head imperceptibly at the thought that she was probably making a big mistake by doing this.

Seeing him laugh out loud at her father’s bad jokes, tears streaming down his face as he held his sides, before proceeding to eat like he hadn’t in a decade, encouraged by her mother, made her change her mind. Maybe she could keep up the charade for a bit, if it meant he could be this happy.

After all, even though she didn’t love Chat Noir that way, she still loved him a little bit. Enough to keep him out of the rain, that was for sure.

#we're back baby #marichat may #marichat may 2021 #miraculous ladybug #the miraculous tales of ladybug and cat noir #ml #miraculous fanfiction #miraculous fanfic #marichat #marinette dupain-cheng #chat noir #tom dupain #sabine cheng #weredad #day 1: rain #elle writes #love you (not)

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hopelikethemoon · 3 years

Text

Together (Ezra x Reader) || {Moonbeams}

Title: Together Rating: PG-13 Length: 3,700 Warnings: Pregnant!Reader, angst, unresolved sexual tension. Notes: :) :) Part twenty of the Moonbeams series.

You sat crosslegged on the bed, watching as Ezra paced and sucked on a honeystick. “Just keep things brief. They won’t be that suspicious.”

“And why do I not like this Quinn fellow?” He questioned, cocking his head the side as he looked at you.

“Because I slept with him.” You admitted. “It’s complicated.”

“Do tell.”

You rubbed at the crease between your brows, “He was always my fallback, in the past. So there’s a history there. I’m not proud about it, but I needed to get off Ay-7 to get back to you and that unfortunately meant sleeping with him.” You shrugged. “Neither you nor the beast were thrilled with that.”

Ezra nodded slowly, “So I should be chilly with him?”

“Cordial.” You offered, brushing your fingers over your stomach. “He likes trying to wind you up. Just follow my lead.”

“And Shiva? What about them?”

“Mutual acceptance? They don’t particularly like you, but they’re warming up to you. I wouldn’t say you dislike them. But there’s distrust all around.”

You scooted to the edge of the bed, resting your feet on the ground. “I’ll try to do most of the talking. I need them to go to Arcadia and pick up my ship — but I’m going to avoid the particulars.”

“So we’re not telling them about the memory loss?”

“Ezra!”

He smirked at you. “Just checking.” He stepped towards the trash bin to throw the honeystick packaging away. “And how are we?”

“You’re very… touchy.” You explained. “Hand on my shoulder, the small of my back, holding my hand.”

Ezra nodded, “I can see that.”

He hadn’t had any trouble with touching you ever since the full moon. It helped that he let you sleep in bed with him — something about not wanting to make a pregnant woman sleep on an uncomfortable sofa. It was nice, but weird too.

“And what happens if they start to catch on?”

“I don’t know.” You grimaced. “I don’t really want to think about it.” Shiva would twist your arm into staying on the Block until the baby was born. They’d find a reason to think it wasn’t safe with Ezra — he was a stranger all over again. Someone to distrust.

“Anything else I should know?” He questioned as he moved to sit on the edge of the bed beside you.

“You call me moonbeam,” Your voice wavered. He hadn’t called you anything but your name since you reintroduced yourself to him. “And little lamb.”

His brows furrowed as he tilted his head to look at you, “Shelley?”

You nodded, “We traded Mary and Percy.”

“The sunlight claps the earth, and the moonbeams kiss the sea: what are all these kissings worth, if thou kiss not me?” Ezra recited.

“You remember that?”

“Hmm?”

“You read those words from my book. You didn’t have Percy’s works.” You told him, angling yourself towards him. “But you remembered the passage.”

He blinked at you, exhaling shakily. “It just came to me.”

“That’s good.” You reached for his hand, squeezing it tightly. “Maybe there’s still hope yet that you’ll remember.”

“Perhaps,” He smiled fondly at you, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand. “You know, I can see why I was infatuated with you.”

“Oh?” Your gaze dropped to his lips, against better judgement.

“Yeah.” Ezra breathed out, “You’re beautiful and you fancy the same books that I do.”

“Funny, that’s why I liked you too.” You whispered, finding yourself leaning towards him. “Is this just muscle memory?”

“Maybe.” He drawled out, his breath dancing over your lips as he hesitated. “I hear something.”

Ezra’s head whipped around to stare down the hallway a split second before someone knocked at the door. “I already dislike them.” He remarked.

You laughed, “I told you they’d show up today.” You rose from the bed, walking barefoot down the corridor to the front door. “Who is it?” You called out.

“Who do you think?” Shiva shot back.

Ezra followed after you, hovering awkwardly behind you. “I’ll follow your lead.”

You looked back at him before you pulled the door open to let Shiva and Quinn in.

“Where the hell is your transport?” Quinn questioned, “We went there first, but the clearing is… clear.”

“Long story.” You told him as Shiva wrapped their arms around you. “How was your assignment?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” They groused, pulling back to give you a sweeping look.

“Someone pulled a bad harvest.” Quinn said in a sing-song voice, before following Shiva’s line of sight to your stomach. “Not that I doubted the legitimacy of your pregnancy, but…” He smirked at Ezra then. “Good job.”

“Look at you!” Shiva grinned at you. “Can I?”

“Sure.” You shrugged, giving Ezra a look as he moved to shut and lock the door closed behind them.

“How are you feeling?” Shiva questioned as they ran their hand over the subtle curve of your stomach. “Any morning sickness?”

“I feel great.” You told them, swatting Quinn’s hand away as he made an attempt to touch you.

“Watch it.” Ezra snapped, stepping in between you and Quinn.

Quinn huffed, “Oh, but Shiva can touch?”

Ezra glared at him.

Shiva rolled their eyes, “Still sensitive about that?”

“About what?” Ezra questioned, arching a brow.

“We are not going to talk about me sleeping with Quinn.” You interjected, taking Shiva’s hand off your stomach. “Let’s go sit, I can tell you about what happened.”

Ezra was hot on your heels as you shooed Shiva and Quinn down the hall to the common area. It almost reminded you of before — but not quiet. It didn’t help that he had taken your comment about being touchy and ran with it.

He pulled you into his lap on the sofa, under the guise of making room for Shiva.

“Now you’re just being rude.” Quinn complained as he perched on the crate across from the sofa.

“Did we interrupt something?” Shiva questioned, giving you a pointed look.

“No.”

“—Yes.”

You turned to look at Ezra, your heart beating a little faster as he cradled his hand against your stomach.

“Someone is still a little grouchy from the full moon.” You explained nervously, looking back at Shiva then. “How was your flight in?”

“Uneventful.” They shrugged, “Quinn tried a little too hard to get me out of my own bad mood.”

You made a face, “Too much information.”

“Not like that.” Shiva screwed up their face.

“Why does everyone act like I’m at the bottom of their list?” Quinn questioned, feigning offense. “I’ll have you know, all three of you are near the top of mine.”

You pretended to wretch, which made Ezra snort. “Quinn, everyone is at the top of your list to hear you tell it.”

“I’m an equal opportunities romancer.”

“Can I be removed from the list?” Ezra questioned. “Perhaps a few years ago, I might’ve taken you up on that offer.”

“Don’t feed him.” You told Ezra, prodding him in the ribs. “He’ll never stop.”

“No, no. Please go on.” Quinn grinned. “You’ve caught my interest now, Ezra.” He propped his chin up on his knees. “Now I’m seeing that this animosity isn’t just because of our beloved friend.”

Ezra rested his chin on your shoulder, tilting his head so his cheek was pressed flush against your neck and jaw. “You’ve gone and ruined it now.”

Shiva cleared their throat, “Well, now that that is out of the way.” They fixed you with a look. “Your ship?”

“Long story, really.” You laughed nervously. “I’m going to need you and Quinn to take a quick trip to Arcadia to pick it up for me. My best advice is to go straight to the ship and then leave.”

Shiva narrowed their eyes, “What happened?”

“A minor debacle,” Ezra lied smoothly, pressing his lips to the crook of your neck affectionately. “Given the delicate state that moonbeam is in, I’d prefer that she doesn’t venture back to Arcadia.”

“How did you get back without your ship?” Quinn questioned.

“It’s a long story.” You admitted, “But it’s behind us, fortunately.”

“Why are you acting weird?” Shiva questioned, leaning towards you suspiciously. “You’re being squirrely.”

“I’m exhausted.” You explained, which wasn’t an actual lie.

Quinn clicked his tongue against his teeth, “Did the big bad wolf keep you up?”

You flipped him off. “Shut up.”

“Well, did he?”

“No.” You gritted out, tilting your head to look at Ezra. “I told you they’d never let me live it down.”

“It’s alright.”

“What’s with the two of you?” Shiva questioned, narrowing their eyes at you.

“Like I said before,” Ezra started before you had the opportunity to respond. “You interrupted.”

“Ezra.” You warned him lightly, tilting your head to look at him with a short laugh. “It’s just been a weird couple of days.” You explained to Shiva. “It always is around the full moon.”

“You’re right,” Quinn snapped his fingers and pointed at Shiva, “They are acting weird.”

“Maybe you’re acting weird.” You retorted.

“Alright, I’m convinced now. Fess up.” Shiva cleared their throat, “What’s going on here?”

“Do you always interrogate her?” Ezra questioned, his voice teetering on the edge of annoyance. “She already told you. So drop it.”

“It’s really nothing.” You assured Shiva and Quinn, looking between the two of them. “I just need my ship back and then…” You didn’t know what came next. Did you leave? Did you come back?

“You can pick me up more of those honeysticks and get back here.” Ezra drawled out, lazily drawing his fingers over your stomach through your shirt.

You turned a little to look at him, grinning at him. “And don’t forget the cheese.”

“How could I?” Ezra took that opportunity to steal the softest brush of a kiss from you. But it was enough to make you chase after his lips as he pulled away.

There was nothing you wanted more than to kiss him. Your last two kisses with him had been under such duress — you hadn’t savored them at all.

“Anything we need to know about Arcadia?” Shiva questioned, “And we’ll get out of your hair.”

“Sorry.” You offered sheepishly as you turned back towards your friends. “Just be quick. Don’t linger.”

Quinn coughed, “You’re not sending us to our death are you?”

“No.” You answered a little too quickly.

Shiva narrowed their eyes, ”We’re talking when I get back.” They warned you. “Ezra, take care of our girl.”

“I always do.” He said with a pleased grin as he rested his chin on your shoulder, his hand still possessively curled around your stomach.

Shiva stood then, snapping their fingers to get Quinn’s attention. “I think we should give the love birds some space.”

Quinn made a face, “You know, I’m still thinking about how it works with the beast.”

“I’m going to kill you.” You threatened, wiggling out of Ezra’s embrace as you got off his lap. “I told you that in a moment of weakness.”

He held up his hand in mock defeat. “Doesn’t matter why, you let it slip.” He looked towards Shiva then. “You ready?”

“Yeah, let’s go see what she’s gotten herself into on Arcadia.”

“It takes about four hours to get there,” You warned them. “A little over five to get back here.”

Shiva nodded, “You owe me.”

“I know.” You laughed, following Quinn and Shiva towards the door. Ezra lingered behind the three of you, eyeing you like a predator who had found his prey. You knew that look. “I owe both of you for this one.”

Quinn smirked, “I’m sure I could come up with a creative way to pay out.”

“No.” You rolled your eyes. “Come by in the morning, alright?”

“Early afternoon.” Shiva told you. “If I’m gonna be in flight for nine hours, I’m sleeping in.”

“Alright, I’ll see you then.” You smiled at them, before giving them a quick hug. “We’ll talk.” You promised as you pulled back.

“We better.” Shiva warned, before looking towards Ezra. “Keep her safe.”

“Will do.” He said as he folded his arms across his chest and watched as you unlocked the door to let them out into the crisp afternoon air.

You turned to face him once the vessel was locked up tight again. “That went well.”

“It did.” He drawled out as he crowded in close to you, resting a hand against the wall beside your head as he leaned towards you. You weren’t pinned in — you could slip out from beneath him easily, his hand wasn’t even at your hip.

“How’d I do?” He questioned, his eyes meeting yours. There was a warmth there, one that you desperately wanted to hold onto.

“I think you were convincing.” You told him, trying to hide the way your voice wavered. “That kiss really sold it.”

“Sorry,” Ezra rubbed at the back of his neck awkwardly. “It felt natural.”

“It was.” You assured him, reaching out to brush your fingers over his shoulder. “You would’ve definitely kissed me in that moment.” You tilted your chin, angling your face towards him. “Thank you for playing along.”

Ezra’s other hand moved in to curl around your hip, keeping you right there. Not that you were trying to get away. “It wasn’t just playing along.”

You exhaled shakily. “I know.”

“This must be agonizing for you.” His brows knit together as he looked down at you, “I don’t mean to prolong your suff—“

Your fingers moved to his jaw and you drew him in for a kiss. It was agonizing. He was right about that. Having him so close, yet so far away was pulling you apart, thread by thread.

It reminded you of that first night with him, the hesitation that blossomed into desperation. You toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck as he eased into the kiss, his tongue dragging over the roof of your mouth as he kissed you thoroughly.

Ezra pressed his leg in between your thighs, effectively pinning you against the cool durasteel wall. Molten desire pooled in your core — it hadn’t fully abated since the full moon, but you’d just ignored it. But it was hard to ignore his knee grinding against your clit and his cock hard between your bodies.

He pulled back, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. “Is this… I don’t wish to overstep the line drawn between us.” He whispered, even as he dragged his hand up the length of your side.

You blinked at him as you tried to wade through the wants to find the rational response for this. You wanted him, you would always want him. But what was it for him? Was he just using you? This wasn’t the same Ezra that you loved.

“Just keep kissing me,” You told him, your eyes searching his for that fleeting second before he leaned in again. His teeth scraped over yours, before his tongue soothed the faint ache.

His fingers slid beneath the hem of your shirt, warm skin finding yours. Just as greedy as the way he kissed you.

Ezra was just as touch starved as he had been when you first met him. Just as desperate to find a connection — with you. But it was different.

You had only just overcome your fears with him. You could believe your Ezra when he told you he wasn’t using you, but you couldn’t believe this Ezra. This was just an itch to scratch, relief after five years of solitude. He just wanted to fuck and it probably didn’t even matter if it was you.

Ezra froze when you tensed against him, his hand dropping from your side. “Moonbeam?” He questioned as he drew back to look at you. “What’s wrong?”

You sank back against the wall, looking away from him. “I don’t think I can do this.” You told him quietly. “I want to, but…”

“Just because you want something, doesn’t mean you should do it.” Ezra drawled out, leaning in to press his lips to your forehead. “Forgive me for overstepping.”

“You didn’t.” You assured him, brushing your fingers through the hair that fell across his own forehead. “I kissed you. Remember?”

Ezra chuckled, “Quite vividly.”

You exhaled shakily, “How honest do you want me to be about the past?”

He ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek as he considered your question. “I don’t mind you telling me about our time together.” He reached down and took your hand into yours, bringing it to his lips.

“Alright,” You nodded slowly. “Do you want to go sit?”

“Sure.” Ezra reluctantly released his hold on your hand, letting you slip past him as you headed for the common area. He followed after, giving you more space than he had before.

This time, he remained standing while you perched uncomfortably on the sofa. “You already know about the deal and Moros.” You reminded him, “But what I didn’t tell you was that part of his little game included forcing me to live through a moment in your past.”

Ezra frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I was essentially inside of Roz’s body for the entire day leading up to…” You made a face. “Well.”

“Shit.”

“It got under my skin. You and I hit a bit of a rough patch because of it. I have my own baggage.” You rubbed your hands together. “We had only just gotten over it.” You met his eyes. “I think I’m officially past wanting to just be a means to an end for someone.”

Ezra dragged his fingers through his hair, sighing heavily. “I’m sorry that you’ve been made to feel that way.” He said softly. “I shouldn’t have kissed you when they were here. But there’s a part of me that gravitates to you. That wants… a lot more than I should ask of you.”

“Don’t.” You shook your head, holding up a hand to stop him. “I shouldn’t have asked you to pretend like everything was normal because it’s not.” You lowered your gaze to the floor, “I’m not good at this.”

Ezra moved to you, sinking down onto the soft beside you. “May I?”

“Yes.” Your voice cracked, as tears welled up in your eyes.

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest as he tried to soothe you. You didn’t have the heart to tell him it only made you want to cry harder. It was so familiar, the warmth of his embrace, the whispered words of assurance.

Ezra ran his hand down your spine, “I’m sorry moonbeam. I’m so sorry.”

You buried your face into the crook of his neck, your tears falling against his skin as you let yourself cry. You couldn’t keep bottling it up. You were going through hell and you didn’t have the one person you needed. Just a facade of them.

“I’m sorry.” You sniffed, tilting your head to look at him. “These hormones are no joke.”

“It’s alright.” He assured you, “We’re both in an impossible situation.”

“It’s the worst.” You complained, shifting in his embrace so you were leaning back against his chest with your legs stretched out on the crate in front of you. “And I’m mad because you’re missing out on this sweet spot that you were looking forward to.”

“What’s that?” He questioned, winding his arm around your waist so he could cradle your stomach in his hand once more.

“Well,” You let out a sputtering laugh. “I think you know without knowing.”

“Oh.” Ezra exhaled slowly. “Do you not want me to—“

“No!” You covered his hand with yours. “It’s nice.”

“I can hear their heartbeat.” Ezra told you, “It’s faint, but just as steady as your own. It makes me feel… pride?” He pressed his lips to your shoulder, lingering there. “I feel so many things that I don’t understand.”

“I know. I’ve pushed too hard.” You admitted. “I’ll be gone for a week to restock. I’m sure you’re looking forward to that time alone.” You didn’t mean to sound as bitter as you did. “You won’t have to put up with an uncomfortably hormonal woman. Is she horny? Is she sad?”

Ezra snorted, “I don’t mind.”

You gave him a skeptical look. “I appreciate that lie.”

He stroked his hand over your stomach, “I’m not lying. It’s nice to have someone here. To not be alone.” Ezra confessed. “I’ve never had such an easy full moon before.”

“Really?” You questioned, turning towards him then. “You were always cagey about your transformations.”

Ezra shrugged, “I don’t know how much I should tell you. Maybe I had good reason to keep these things from you.”

You rolled your eyes, “I already know you were keeping shit from me. It’s not a secret anymore.”

“If I loved you,” Ezra started. “And I know I did. I wouldn’t have wanted you to know how bad it was.”

“How bad is it?”

Ezra stared at you for a long moment before he answered, “There is no word to explain the pain, moonbeam. Agony pales in comparison to the reality. Even now I ache.”

“You never…” You shook your head. “I knew about the headaches, but I didn’t know about everything else.”

“A person gets used to living with pain.” Ezra offered lightly. “They overlook the grinding pain in their joints, the blinding knife between their brows. Especially if they’ve found something to look forward to.”

“I feel like I forced myself into your life.” You told him hesitantly. “You told me to leave and I still came back.”

“And I want you to come back still.” Ezra whispered.

“I plan to.” Your chest hurt as you held his gaze. “You may not remember me yet, but the beast still does. I’m not leaving either part of you behind.”

“Moonbeam?”

You smiled a little. “Yes?”

Ezra shook his head as he exhaled, “Nevermind.”

“No. What is it?” You reached out and urged him to look at you again.

“I was going to ask if I may kiss you.” Ezra told you as he leaned into your touch.

“Yes.”

“What?”

“Yes.”

His eyes widened a little, a smile spreading over his lips. He leaned in then, brushing his lips gently over yours. “Thank you.”

“For what?” You whispered, pressing your forehead against his, stroking your fingers over his scruffy jaw.

“Not giving up on me.” He brushed his nose against yours.

“We’ll figure this out.” You told him, “Together.”

#ezra (prospect)#ezra x reader #pedro pascal ezra #ezra (prospect) x reader #ped

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thedevillionaire · 3 years

Text

Surrender

So, I spend a fair bit of time in a supernatural soap opera world I made up. The background is crazy but I’m finally biting the bullet and posting a fic. You don’t have to know much about it for this one, though - he’s a Demon and the most powerful resident the Underworld has ever seen, she’s a Vampire, a little kink adjacent, interested in maybe learning a bit of magick. And they’re a mutually very devoted couple. I make an attempt at what they look like here . Also this one, which I posted here a while ago, sorry about repeats. Any questions, please ask! But anyway...

----

She loves watching him.

Sometimes too much, perhaps, since despite this demonstration being very specifically done for her benefit, she’s allowed herself to become lost in mellifluous cadence of rich velvet baritone and the dance of long, elegant fingers weaving accompanying airpatterns as illustration, a smooth and balletic fluidity of motion seeming almost at odds with that commanding, tall and broad-shouldered physique, the imposing force of presence, radiant authority that draws all eyes upon him everywhere he goes, and thusly she’s neglected to actually...well, comprehend anything. Again. And now he pauses, the small cluster of leaves he’s holding without touch hovering midair between them, and looks at her in expectation, encouragement.

Am I supposed to say something now? Oh god, I’m supposed to say something now. Kia gazes up at Cerberus – and the leaves, the introductory Kinesis exercise he’s showing her the mechanics of – from her tree-stump seat in the woodland copse and wonders how she can reasonably ask him to repeat everything he’s just explained without having to admit that she didn’t pay proper attention because he’s so fucking stunning he’s practically cinematic.

Although, she finds herself noting with interest, she…may not have to admit anything quite yet. A momentary frown and vague flicker of confusion crosses his face, the piercing intense focus in those famed eyes of emerald becoming hazy, falling away, and he inhales sharply, shakily, glances upwards and pauses in a completely different kind of expectation before inhaling sharply again, more deeply this time.

She loves watching him surrender.

Ah?

Huh. Not now, apparently, as breathy anticipation stalls and fades, eventually dissolving unfulfilled.

He wrinkles his nose, rubs it a few times, shakes his head in curt negation. “Sorry, love. *snf!* Thought I was going to sneeze.”

Indeed. As if she needs to be told, and she smiles just a little, inclines her head in acknowledgement. Her gaze remains fixed on him as he takes another short pause, brief frown, twitch of the nostrils, then with a quiet Hm, another sniffle and a very slight shrug, he returns his attention to the original matter at hand. The leaves have remained in Kinetic hold throughout, and she’s not as surprised as she otherwise might be; she’s more than well aware that he’s exceptionally skilled. The best ever. This is nothing for him, no more than an effortless parlour trick. “Darkling?” he prompts, and she knows he’s referring to the question he’d asked her earlier that she hadn’t been paying the proper kind of attention to. Unfortunately, she has even less of an idea now than she did before, which she hadn’t really thought was possible but oh well here we are, and he definitely expects an answer – or at least he does for a moment, until she’s saved again by a returning and clearly more acute distraction. “Oh, one moment, I…” His brow creases and he turns aside from her in magnificent profile, a gods-forged angular precision entirely at the mercy of whatever stealth tormentor is apparently bothering him right now. “Hh-hh…” She loves watching him surrender because he does it so rarely but he does it so well, so absolutely, this man who submits to nothing, to nobody. Except, of course, to her…and except, perhaps, to this – this simple, common, insistent and equalising need, and she warms at the thought as her beloved, the all-powerful Demon king, loses control. He inhales deeply, urgently, and altogether gives in to a bracing double, almost doubling over with the force of it, heavy and demanding. “Hhh-AHTSSCHHUU! ahh-HEHTSSCH-uu!” She catches the fleeting, almost startled look in his eyes as he glances across to her in apology, as if he’s surprised to find himself capable of such ferocious capitulation, as if he hadn’t been gearing up for precisely that outcome all those expectant moments before. A wet sniffle as he presses a firm hand beneath his nose to no avail, his breath staccato, and hitches into another mighty sneeze. “Huh…ah-HH… AAHTSSCHHUU! Gods. *SNF!* Pardon me.” “Bless you,” she purrs. Pushing a curtain of long, disarrayed ebony hair back from his face, he thanks her quickly, sniffles again, frowns and rubs his nose with purposeful determination. Annoyance now mixes with perplexity, and he pinches the bridge of his nose against the still-insistent irritation, blinking rapidly, and gives a brief, crisp shake of his head, as if by sheer willpower he can refute this, end this here and now. As if his focus wasn’t already unstoppably disintegrating anew. She loves watching him try to regain his composure. Oh, he’s not going to succeed – the helpless shift in his expression tells her clearly that this is a battle already lost…and once committed, he’s never been the type to do things by halves. “Damn it, excuse m…” He manages to Create a handkerchief in a lucid micromoment, burying his face in it as he succumbs again. “Hhh… hh-TSSCHH-uu! Hh-TSSCHH-uu! Gods, I…I don’t know wh-hH… hh-HHAHTSSCCHU!” He groans heavily, almost a growl, sighs with frustration palpable, and offers her another apology, however unnecessary that may be. Always the gentleman. A soft, private smile crosses her face as a craving heat suffuses her. “Bless you!” Her interest does not mean disregard for her love’s comfort, though. “Are you okay?” He gives her a quick nod, blows his nose and sniffles in tremulous, uncertain recovery awhile, steadying himself as best he can, before looking over at her through increasingly reddened and watery eyes. “Um, if you…” His breath, still erratic, catches in encore, and he crushes the back of his hand against his nose in steely denial, sniffles hard. “If you… *SNF!* If you don’t mind, though, perhaps a… ah… Hh-hh… Ohgodswhatthe…” His hard-fought-for composure crumbles in seconds. “Ahh-TSCHH-uu! *SNFF!*” Another series of sniffles follow; he exhales heavily, wipes his eyes, and turns from her to once more blow his nose. “Goddamn it,” he mutters. “Pardon me…again.” He pushes his hair back from his face and clears his throat, and the insistent itch actually seems to back off a little, giving him a moment of respite, though he’s not at all confident about how much longer his fortune will hold. He suspects – much to his wary displeasure – that the likely answer is not very, and he presses his fingers against still-rebellious sinuses, attempts to reclaim a little dignity. “Perhaps a change of venue?” “Ah.” She takes a cursory glance around the copse and its variety of trees, shrubbery and wildflowers, nods sagely. “Maybe somewhere a little more…private?” she says, suggestive sensual, then adds with a quiet chuckle, “I was going to have to ask you to start over anyway.” He raises an eyebrow. “Oh? Did I…” He sniffles softly; she notes his momentary frown and accompanying flare of his nostrils, and the vexed waver in his expression as he rubs his nose again. “Did I not…” A sharp intake of breath, and she pauses, attention fixed – oh, again? – on what is plainly inevitable, no matter how much he may wish it otherwise. And this time he is clearly out of patience, rolling his eyes in exasperation and inhaling deeply moments before any remaining focus he has dissolves, and he comprehensively gives himself over, sneezing again, emphatic, unstoppable. “Ah-HEHTSSHHUU! Fuck! *snf!*” Resentfulness now shines brightfurious in irritated, teary viridian as he meets her gaze from beneath strands of newly dishevelled midnight; by the look in his eye he’s one step from incinerating this entire damn woodland just to teach it a damn lesson, and she thinks that although he…probably won’t, that perhaps she should redirect his attention just in case. Besides, she muses, as his breath quavers and he sniffles again, it happens that she very much wants to…needs to get out of here too. She loves watching him, but sometimes…ohgod, sometimes watching is simply not enough. “Bless you, sweetheart,” she murmurs as she moves to him, internally burning, and wraps her arms around his waist. “Feel free to get us out of here whenever you like.” Standing on tiptoe, she now reaches up to weave one hand through his hair, pulling him nearer, silencing his apology with a finger to his lips, and soothes him with boudoir whisper, “Shh, it’s alright. Sometimes we’re all…just a bit at the mercy…” She kisses him hungrily, urgently, and abandons speech for heat-suffused Mindsend – :of forces beyond our control.:

#snzfic #snz fic #my OCs #my writing #cerberus #supernatural soap opera #cerberus and kia #sneeze fic

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okmcintyre · 3 years

Text

I was tagged by @togetherkru , thanks so much for thinking of me! I loved reading your answers & these are always a lot of fun to fill out! 😊☀️

1. why did you choose your url?

I actually just updated my URL after nine long years, mostly because I was uber jealous of y’all with t100 specific usernames. 😅 The majority of my content is catered to that fandom, so it made sense to freshen it up. After ruling out my first choice (@madigriffin, I mean how cool would that be!) I decided that since I relate most to Harper’s energy I’d go with her last name.... and added a variation of my own first name that I thought looked cute.

2. any side blogs? if you have them, name them and why you have them

Yes! Goodness I have private sideblogs for writing drafts/inspiration, and to organize gif-making tutorials that I like to keep on hand... then there’s my Bellarke Fanfiction sideblog (@twosuns-ofbellarke)... and I help out with a couple The 100 appreciation/edits pages. I have my old URL too, just in case I ever want to start using it again.

... And I do actually have @augustkomtrikru active too, which I’d intended to use as my main URL once the prequel started up that is, before Season 7B broke my damn heart and I vowed off anything Rothenberg related unless he goes back and fixes that mess that ended our beloved show. 🤷‍♀️

3. how long have you been on tumblr?

I joined on January 4, 2012.

4. do you have a queue tag?

No, but I do tag original posts!

#t100kt, #friendskt, #luciferkt, #tumblrkt, #liveblogkt, #ask away!

5. why did you start your blog in the first place?

I came to tumblr because I was struggling to find my groove on LiveJournal and Blogger (wow just aged myself there, didn’t I?👵). I liked that I could post different kinds of content here... and I was obsessed with Fringe, which was still on air. This quickly became the place I came for spoilers and spaz at all the beautiful gifs from the show.

6. why did you choose your icon/pfp?

Because our fearless leaders marching away from the rover together, looking like badass supermodels, is a big mood! 💥

7. why did you choose your header?

It matched the icon & I found it in my old cell phone edits ready to go

8. what post of yours has the most notes?

This Clarke & Bellamy post from Season 6, with 1700+ notes.

9. how many mutuals do you have?

Is there a way to see that? I have a bunch and they are all lovely people! ☺️

10. how many followers do you have?

Last I checked I was around 1.7k, I’m super grateful for everyone who sticks around for my hodgepodge of posting!

11. how many people do you follow?

4935, we have a lot of great fandom here and I lack chill...

12. have you ever made a shitpost?

1. (noun) any content on the internet whose humor derives from its surreal nature and/or its lack of clear context... a shitpost is funny simply because it isn't a predictable repetition of an existing form. Shitposts can become memes, but memes cannot become shitposts.

So now that Urban Dictionary explained what that means (I told you, I’m not a spring chicken anymore! 😂) I don’t believe so? Unless you include my old liveblogs, they were absolutely without context.

13. how often do you use tumblr?

I’m always popping in throughout my day. I like to keep up to my notifs & new posts in the tags, and then when I have more time on my hands I’ll look into my mutuals and feed a little more properly.

14. did you have a fight/argument with another blog? who won?

I can remember a couple years ago butting heads with a couple folks when I first got into fandom: the posting etiquette here was quite different from the message boards I was used to interacting on... and I had a mishap or two as a result. I genuinely believe that no one wins when that happens though, so I really make an effort to keep this a positive space. Learn from the mistakes. 💛

15. how do you feel about ‘you need to compare this’ posts?

Thanks gosh @togetherkru that you didn’t know these either! Like, what is that? Google doesn’t even seem to know.

16. do you like tag games?

I LOVE THEM!

17. do you like ask games?

Also love them! The posts are always wildly unpopular but they are a lot of fun

18. which one of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

Every one! There’s so much talent here and so many folks have established their blogs as a cornerstone of their respective fandoms. And again, I have no idea where to find a list of all my mutuals to compare... but I always feel like I’m the new kid on the block, I’m pretty sure most of my mutuals have been here years longer than I have.

19. do you have a crush on a mutual?

I have a crush on my mutuals’ beautiful gif-making and writing and artsy abilities, if that counts? 😃

20. tags (if you guys want to)

I’m going to tag some folks from my notifications, feel free though to participate anyone reading this! Or if it isn’t your cuppa tea, don’t feel obligated those I tagged... have a great day everybody! 🙂☕

@bt06, @padfootx, @isweartobreathe, @bravestartingwithyou, @kizo2703, @pendragaryen, @whatabeautifullife13, @immortalpramheda, @1jemmagirl22, @frecklesandfanfics, @little-oxford-st, @infp-with-all-the-feelings, @kris-lulu, @womanwithaplan, @bellamyschin, @peaceloveandbabyducks, @geekyogicheese, @al3xia17 & anybody else who wants to play!.

#tag game!#thnx for tagging op! ☺️☺️☺️🧡#the 100 #almost all my content is t100 lol #fringe #kateemcintyre #tumblrkt #about me #Play along folks!#this was fun #anti-7b #lol

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chocolate-parfait · 4 years

Note

Hello! Can I get a headcanon where MC(they/them) gets a little lonely so they climb a tree in the middle of the night to get to Comte/Mozart/Napoleon's room window. How would the boys react?

THIS TOOK SO LONG IM SO SORRY!!! +they're more scenarios than headcanons I hope you dont mind ;-; (I also hope you dont mind the amount of cheesiness i put into this lmao)

(+Trees shouldn't stay at a arm's length from houses because they can cause big problems in case of storms or things like that,, let's pretend for the sake of the story that they don't and that's why they're so near the windows)

Comte

Mama Comte was just chilling in his armchair, drinking a glass of red wine while letting his thoughts chase each other in endless circles, vivid images of past memories dancing behind his closed eyelids. More often than he liked to admit, he'd find himself in these exact circumstances, and that night was certainly no different. It was probably way past midnight when the still silence that hovered in the room was interrupted by a small whisper, followed by another and another one again. Attracted by the curious sound the pureblood got up from his sit and walked to the window, opening it with one swift gesture

"Comte, here!"

After his dark pupils focused on a silhouette that was undeniably yours, a rare look of shock and disbelief crept upon his features. Despite having risked falling to the ground like a sack of potatoes multiple times while climbing all the way to one of the highest branches of the tree, the man's expression made the effort more than worth the danger

Before he could ask you what in the world you were doing perched on a tree branch in front of his room at such a late hour, you eagerly told him why, words leaving your mouth in a single breath

"I-i couldn't fall asleep and thought of you and then I had this sudden urge to see you but I didn't know if you were awake so I climbed this tree to see if your light was on and then-"

As his caramel eyes softened and a warm smile appeared on his lips, Comte asked for you to stay still, and mere seconds after the last syllable reached your ears, you heard the fluttering of his coat that was now right in front of your widened eyes

Had he???just???jumped from his window????to land?????on a tree branch????next to you??? MC: why though? Comte: why not- MC: BUT why th- Comte: why not.

Giggling at your reaction while securing you against his chest, something was extremely clear in his eyes. Since you came all the way up there just to see him, it would have been a terrible waste to just send you away, right? And you knew he wouldn't have taken a no as an answer

"Hold on tight, ma chérie. We wouldn't want you falling down, now would we?"

Taking advantage of the position you were both in and with the excuse of possibly falling down, you contentedly snuggled in the crook of his neck; soft, expensive fabric caressing your cheek while his perfume rubbed on you, sure to remain there for at least a week

Comte on the other hand didn't complain nor move away, watching as your hair moved under the moonlight, softly swayed by the wind

Maybe spending a night in someone's company was a better alternative than staying alone, after all

Mozart

Mozart hadn't realized it had gotten that late until he finally closed the fall board of his piano, looking out of the window to see the stars and a full moon shining gently over the dim lit marble pavement of the music room

Almost one year ago on a night with the same moon, you walked out of Comte's door, looking as confused and scared as a little fawn. Since then you worked hard all over the mansion doing all kind of tasks, and though he'd have loathed the idea before, you two ended up getting incredibly close. Only lately he had started noticing many weird little behaviors that were slowly becoming a part of his routine; the way he had now stopped putting off having breakfast to play the piano in order to see you sooner, how his guts seemed to writhe whenever he saw you smiling at someone else, and as if it wasn't already enough, he found his thirst for blood more and more insatiable

Knowing what that meant but still fearing the answer, he tore himself away from the disheartening path his thoughts were taking, finally snapping back to reality. When he did so, a gleam coming from the tree near the window caught his attention. The closer he got, the more he seemed to distinguish your moonlit form standing in the foliage. Was he hallucinating now? Were his mind and heart so full of thoughts of you to the point of imagining your figure in the weirdest of places?

Before he could realize that you were in fact right outside his window, you called out to him, causing the poor man to flinch in surprise. Despite the harsh scolding that followed your appearance, just seeing his face was enough to ease the stingy feeling that was keeping your heart in a tight embrace. Seeing the bittersweet look in your eyes, Mozart couldn't stop his voice and gaze from softening considerably. But how could he not? Over the past months he had subconsciously started to consider you the one closest to his heart, and you were, more than he was ready to admit, his worst weakness

Sighing to himself as he reached past the parted glass panels to brush some leaves off your hair, he asked you "So, what are you doing here at this ungodly hour of the night?"

Amethyst spheres focusing on your expression, you told him the whole truth, not that you could easily make up a lie, seeing the position you were in. "I know you don't like it when people come into the music room, so this was the easiest way..." As if he had the strength and willpower to get angry at you, he thought. "A-anyways I-...I just wanted to see you, that's all."

Oh Gott, if only you could hear the way his blood pace sped up its tempo at the sound of those words, though you probably could see the way his usually pale cheeks were now flushed in a lovely shade of red. He, too, missed you, and now that the constant feeling of longing had met a correspondent in your gaze, it reached its bursting point

Not bothering to ask you permission to, he roughly grasped your wrist and pulled you away with superhuman strength from the offshoot you were sitting on. You were now on sill of the window, facing him and just inches from his doll-like face. Glancing up at him you found a pair of violet eyes staring back at you with the intensity and strength of a storm. Had he always been this bold? Had his irises always been this full of raw passion? Had his body always been this warm?

Your heart was thumping so loud in your ears that it was as if you were standing in the middle of an orchestra, senses all focused on him and only him. All the times were you hoped to be held like this by him came crashing onto your mind all at once, the fiercest blush born from the slow realization of how those fantasies were finally reality blooming on your cheeks

The tight grip he kept on your hips told you he had no intention to let go of you soon, but who would be so foolish to not take advantage of the situation?

That night, after months and months of anonymous, mutual feelings, you and the pianist were able to manifest the most breathtaking of emotions through the words that you'd have kept hearing for a lifetime, the touches and caresses that would have been the same for the years to come, moved by never changing feelings to express an everlasting love; but you were sure, you were oh so sure, that none of them would have ever been enough

Napoleon

Unlike any other day, Napoleon wasn't tired at all, rather, he felt quite restless instead. That morning you had accompanied him and Isaac in their usual "street lessons" to the children of the city, and ever since then, a whole storm of butterflies had been freely running around his stomach. Each time your laughter ringed in his ears, each time your eyes twinkled with amusement, each time a smile as bright as the sun graced your lips, his heart couldn't help but leap with one of the greatest joys known to man: love. He wasn't an innocent boy who couldn't tell an emotion from the other, and he knew that this was a love like no other

Twisting and retwisting his thoughts in the attempt of getting to know about all the facets and implications this new feeling brought him, Napoleon let his feet carry him around the garden, similar to a lovestruck hero from a Shakespearean play tormenting himself over his beloved

He was so immersed in the meanders of his mind, that he barely heard you exclaiming his name in surprise. Barely, that is. As his brain registered your presence, his eyes and heart danced in search of you until they landed on the lowest arm of the pine tree near his window.

He looked at you and you looked at him, the soft sound of crickets the only melody filling the background. You could clearly see the way le Monsieur de Wahaha's shoulders shook in an attempt to keep in the raging fits of laughter that would have been surely let out soon enough. The same way, despite tears of amusement fogging his vision, Napoleon was extremely aware of the embarrassment creeping up your features

"Nunuche" he managed to say in between his strangled fits, "what in- pftt- what are you doing there-"

"I just wanted to thank you for today so I had been searching for you- S-stop laughing at me, you moron! I'm trying to be serious here!!" How could he take someone who was perched on a tree in the middle of the night seriously? You truly were a silly one

With arms opened wide, he walked over the pine trunk and with a tender but still lightly shaking tone that was exclusive for your ears only, he said "Come! I'll definitely catch you, mon amour"

You just stared at him in silence with the widest eyes your head could muster without popping them out of their orbits. You were just a couple meters from the ground, sure, but was he truly this confident in catching you? And did he just call you "my love"?? There was a LOT to unpack for your brain, but the man had no intention of letting you idle by with your thoughts for long, challenging you with his vivid emerald eyes as if to say "what, you don't trust me?"

The fearless Napoleon had this habit of infusing in others a courage so strong, that even the most impossible action seemed achievable; and that, with a bit of adrenaline caused by how quick the silent night escalated when the Nightmare of Europe stepped into the scene, made you follow his command. And you jumped.

The rustling of leaves above your head, a strong pair of arms around your torso, a silent breathing interrupted by a low chuckle that could've melted all the glaciers in the world. His smell, his warmth, his voice, they were all so close and yet so distant, just like his heart. He wasn't yours and you had no right to claim him as so, but being with him was all you needed and wanted the most

"What are you thinking about?" He asked with a curious look, still holding you between his arms. As much as you wanted to answer him, no words were forming in your mind that was so full of him and so empty at the same time. All the boldness from the jump had dissipated in the air the same way one would puff out air from his lungs in the night sky

But when words fail us, actions find their way through our minds. Slipping a pair of arms behind his neck, you snuggled against his chest and whispered "Let's stay like this, just for a little longer, please"

He couldn't help but comply; your wish was his command and he, the Emperor of France, was your slave

#my writing #ikevamp scenarios #ikevamp headcanons #ikevamp imagines #ikemen vampire #ikevamp comte #ikevamp mozart #ikevamp napoleon #comte de saint germain #wolfgang amadeus mozart #napoleon bonaparte

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alethiometry · 3 years

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Edward Kenway for character asks!

ooooooo okay i should open this with a disclaimer: i have not finished black flag yet (about 2/3 of the way through i think? i need to level up my ship so i can beat the next story mission lol) so everything i'm saying here is based on the game up to thatch's death, and everything we know about edward in ac 3: forsaken and the comics that came out a couple years ago.

First impression

oh boy... to be honest, one of the reasons it took me such a long time to get around to playing black flag (it was one of the first ps4 games i bought when i got my console in 2016, and i didn't start until about a month ago) was because i didn't really feel particularly strongly about edward's character design. i was vaguely interested in That One Pirate Assassin Game after having watched (and loved) black sails, but was afraid i would be let down; to me edward just looked like Some Dude, and i was still hung up on the black sails gang. to me, black sails and its characters were so genre/time period-defining that any other piece of pirate media just seemed lackluster in comparison.

i'd also heard a lot of praise for edward and for ac4 in general so i was aware that it was a very popular and well-received game. but since i mostly heard that from reddit (didn't join tumblr ac fandom until odyssey in 2018) i kind of discounted it, bc gamer reddit tastes are... questionable at best.

Impression now

I LOVE HIM!!! i always think i want stories about virtuous characters who believe in goodness and kindness and aren't motivated by gold or glory but aren't afraid to do what needs to be done to help others who can't help themselves. and sometimes that's true (coughratonhnhake:toncough). other times i end up clowning on myself because i realize that it's so much fun when said good/kind character has a rough and rugged exterior, and is motivated by personal gain (i think edward and kassandra are kinda kindred spirits across time and space in that regard, but maybe that's another rant for another time). sometimes you just want someone to be a little bit of an opportunistic bastard, and boy does edward fit that to a T. he's an incredibly complex man, and i think what really got me was that even as he was impersonating assassins and then templars and then assassins again, all for personal gain (pickpocketing the templars in havana while he gains their trust and agrees to do their dirty work lmfao my beloved <3), his primary motivation for doing so was to prove to caroline and her family that he is someone worth a damn, that he is capable of great things and that he is worthy of their love and acceptance. and i know from ac forsaken that the marriage with caroline doesn't last (though i haven't played ac4 far enough to see if that happens on screen, or if it occurs between the game and the novel) which makes his backstory in the game all the more heartbreaking. but his optimism and perseverance and determination to prove himself are all what make me love him.

so that's edward the romantic. now let's talk about the way edward is with adewale, his crew, and his friends. and let's also put the rest of this behind a readmore bc girl i am RANTINGGGGGG

he has several lines that he says to adewale that make me physically cringe (namely: "many of [these men] wouldn't accept you as captain" or "what was it like being enslaved?" like i get that someone like edward would be asking that question in good faith and genuine curiosity but also JESUS CHRIST UBISOFT). but on the flip side - cringey as those questions are, he also takes the time to actually listen and learn, and i think he genuinely values the perspective that he gets from adewale allowing him to open these lines of trust and communication. there's a patience and mutual respect there that i adore.

i also love how much edward loves his crew and his other pirate friends. those scenes of him + kidd + thatch + adewale + hornigold (lol) drinking on the beach and having a grand old time and talking about establishing - to borrow one of my favorite chills-down-my-spine phrases from black sails - a nation of thieves, for people like them to live and prosper, free from the chokehold of civilization. and i know he's not as outwardly invested in counterculture/independence/anticolonialism as thatch and vane and kidd are, but the fact that he so wholeheartedly supports his friends' goals, lofty and impossible as they are, speaks volumes about his love for his friends.

Favorite moment

every scene he has with kidd when kidd casually and softly reminds him that they see that he is a good person beneath his opportunistic and rambunctious exterior. i especially love when they discover julien du casse's mansion containing orders for templars to go out and hunt down assassins: the way kidd immediately knows that edward wants to help the assassins as a way to make up for the damage he did while masquerading as a templar, even if he hasn't voiced it aloud himself. the way that they don't force edward to admit anything about himself before he is ready, but still constantly remind him that he has a good heart. they give him space to come to terms with his compassionate side in a world/environment that more often than sees compassion as something to be stamped out or cast aside. i don’t love when characters are forced to be the Moral Compass for a main dude character, but i think it works for edward and kidd.

Idea for a story

not an edward story per se, but there are 2 povs into edward's life that i would cut off (someone else's) limbs for:

jenny's pov growing up in the kenway household. from haytham's pov it seems that she knows way more about his past than haytham ever did (it was hinted at that there are rumors about edward’s past as haytham was growing up that he wasn’t privy to, but i don’t think at any point in the novel does haytham ever find out definitively that his father was a pirate) and i want to know how she knew so much, and more into what her life was like - through her eyes rather than haytham, who is like 10 years younger and by his own admission barely understands her and barely has a functional relationship with her. i'll expand further on edward and jenny in the next question/prompt/bullet point, actually, bc i have a LOT more to say.

connor's pov learning about his grandfather from... idk? who's around to tell him? what's so goddamn sad is that by the time connor rebuilds the colonial brotherhood he's kinda the only one left. sure there's aveline down in louisiana, but as far as we know everyone who was around in edward's generation is dead now, and i'm not sure how much of the kenway saga is preserved for connor to discover, or if all this information about their family line was discovered in the modern-day, by your abstergo employee character, and later by osto berg in the comics. which is why i so badly want a revelations-style game where connor traces his assassin heritage back to the caribbean, relives some of edward's memories, and then makes the trip to london to see his aunt jenny. it would have been such a cool way to round out the kenway saga.

Unpopular opinion

idk how popular or unpopular this is bc i rarely see other in-depth posts about it on my dash, but edward was a terrible father to jenny. he was every bit the wonderful and loving father to haytham for the 10 years that haytham had a father, but i wish we'd seen more of jenny's perspective than just a few lines of dialogue in haytham's diary: i hate the way edward sidelined her and raised her in the same manner that any other wealthy person of the time would have raised their daughter - that is, for the sole purpose of sitting pretty and marrying her off in an arrangement that would benefit the family. it's especially hard to reconcile because in ac4 there are female assassins in the americas, and there are female pirates in the caribbean, so it's not like edward isn't aware that women have as much right as any man to live life on their own terms. it just seems like by the time he returns to england and settles down with his family, he's reverted back to the societal norms and gender roles that the pirates fought (and lost) against, and it's hard not to be deeply disappointed by that.

to be clear, i don't begrudge edward settling down and becoming a Rich Society Man. dude deserves to live comfortably with his loving family. he has every right to dote on his wife and children, and leave behind the hardships of being a pirate. but i think "fightning against deeply-ingrained cultural norms/expectations is a long and bloody struggle, and after losing so many people he cared so deeply about, i think it's understandable that edward wouldn't want to continue that fight alone (and also adewale is still fighting the good fight) (do NOT @ me about ac rogue I Pretend I Do Not See It)" and "i don't love the way edward sidelined his daughter into societally-expected gender roles she did not want; it makes me think that he did not continue drinking his Respect Women Juice as much as i thought he did/wanted him to" are two opinions that can coexist.

Favorite relationship

i don't know that i ship edward romantically with anyone, actually. i thought he and caroline were cute in the beginning, but it's hard to want to ship them knowing that she leaves him eventually. and ofc there'd edward/tessa in ac forsaken, and we know they were very happy together and that he loved her so so much. but we don't see that relationship except through haytham's eyes.

as for non-romantic relationships, i already talked at length above about his relationships with adewale and the other pirates and kidd, and i'll just leave it at that. i'm also vaguely aware that edward's got some upcoming scenes with anne bonny, but i'm not at that point in the game yet so i don't have much to say about the two of them. so far i've only seen them say a few lines to each other at the nassau tavern.

Favorite headcanon

kassandra absolutely rubbed shoulders with edward at some point during his time in the caribbean; i like to think that she needed to lie low for some reason (maybe she was with the assassins idk) and joined his crew. i just need my best stabby gal and my second-favorite stabby dude to be pals!

finally, this isn't a headcanon per se but it is obligatory that any time i talk about kenways i yell for a bit about the fact that EDWARD WOULD HAVE LOVED CONNOR SO SO SO MUCH AND I'M FOREVER DEVASTATED THAT HE NEVER GOT TO MEET HIM. at the same time, if edward hadn't been murdered and haytham not been indoctrinated into the templars the way he had, i'm not sure connor would even have existed. and in a way i'm glad that edward wasn't around to see how broken and cynical and depressed haytham became, because i think that would have absolutely broken his heart.

send me a character!

#KEN👏WAY👏BRAIN👏ROT👏#assassin's creed #ac black flag #edward kenway #ask games #reiverreturns #THANK YOU FOR ASKING i hope you expected and wanted this can of worms #finally wrangled that stupid ask box bug - saved this in my drafts and edited it from there #and lo and behold i can type W E and L!

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jiseulws · 3 years

Text

what’s shakin’? 👋🏽 hi, i’m lune ( he & him ) and i’m really excited to be here !!! seriously, i’m really looking forward to getting to know all of you and your beautiful muses. ♡♡ that being said, i’m thrilled to introduce you to my first muse in the group— 𝒃𝒚𝒖𝒏 𝒋𝒊𝒔𝒆𝒖𝒍. you know, the one who’s fancam went viral during the ❝ you’re pitiful ❞ era! you may also know her as one of the reigning cf and brand endorsement queens. she’s ladybug’s maknae, lead dancer and sub vocalist, and a muse that i’ve grown to adore creating over the last few weeks! so, without further ado, you’ll find a little tl;dr description of her backstory, a few links to all of her important pages, and a few plot ideas ( while i work on a proper plot page for her ) underneath the cut. if you’re interested in plotting, 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 and i’ll reach out to you as soon as possible!

LINKS—

FREEFORM

DOSSIER

CAREER

TL;DR—

SHE WAS BORN AND RAISED IN JEJU-DO, SOUTH KOREA. HER MOTHER AND FATHER WORKED AS LIVE-IN STAFF FOR A FAMOUS, EXTREMELY WEALTHY COUPLE IN THEIR VACATION HOME. JISEUL GOT TO PRETEND SHE LIVED THIS LAVISH LIFESTYLE, BUT SHE FAILED TO REALIZE THAT THE HOUSE, ALL THE FURNITURE, THE CARS—NONE OF THEM BELONGED TO HER FAMILY. IN A SENSE, SHE FELT AS THOUGH SHE WAS LIVING SOME SORT OF DOUBLE LIFE. /// AS A TEENAGER, SHE GOT CAUGHT WITH THE HOME OWNER’S SON IN A PROVOCATIVE SITUATION. APPARENTLY, THEIR STAR-CROSSED RELATIONSHIP WAS BANNED IN THE CONTRACT HER PARENTS SIGNED. THAT MEANT THEY HAD TO MOVE OUT AND BACK TO THE CAPITAL CITY WHERE IT WAS A LITTLE MORE AFFORDABLE. SHE WORKED AS A WAITRESS UNTIL SHE WAS SCOUTED BY YUSEONG ENTERTAINMENT. /// SHE TRAINED FOR A VERY SHORT AMOUNT OF TIME—NINE MONTHS, TO BE EXACT. JISEUL HAD NEVER DANCED OR PERFORMED BEFORE, BUT SHE FOUND A NEW LOVE FOR IT ONCE SHE ADJUSTED PROPERLY. SHE FOUND IT IRRITATING THAT SHE WAS SOLELY PUSHED FOR VISUAL APPEAL ABOVE ALL ELSE, BUT SHE SIGNED A CONTRACT AND COULDN’T FIGHT TO MAKE A CHANGE. AT LEAST NOT YET. /// HER VISUALS CONTINUE TO BE PRAISED, AND LITTLE BY LITTLE, SHE FEELS AS THOUGH SHE’S ONLY A FACE AND A BODY—NOT A LIVING, BREATHING HUMAN BEING. HER CAREER HAS BEEN MOLDED BY HER APPEARANCE AND IT’S CREATED A LOT OF DISCOMFORT FOR HER. SHE’S BEEN ABLE TO KEEP HER HEAD ABOVE WATER FOR NOW, BUT SHE’S BEGINNING TO DROWN A LITTLE MORE AS TIME GOES BY.

PSYCHE—

MORE INFORMATION FOR THIS CAN BE FOUND ON HER DOSSIER PAGE, BUT SHE’S ESSENTIALLY A WOMAN WHO IS AN EXPERT AT LIGHTING UP A ROOM; CAPTIVATING AN AUDIENCE; MAKING YOU FEEL SPECIAL; BREATHING A FLIRTATIOUS ENERGY NO MATTER WHERE SHE IS; BUT DEEP DOWN, SHE’S EXTREMELY CRITICAL OF HERSELF. AFTER EVERY APPEARANCE ON TV, LIVE STAGE, MODELING CAMPAIGN, ETC. SHE’S KNOWN TO PICK HERSELF APART. THERE’S AN INSECURITY THAT LIES BENEATH THE FEIGNED CONFIDENCE, ONE THAT SHE KEEPS LOCKED UP TIGHT AND ONLY LETS OUT WHEN SHE’S ALONE. THIS MAKES HER RELATIONSHIPS WITH OTHER PEOPLE DIFFICULT TO MAINTAIN. WHEN SHE STARTS TO FEEL REALLY CLOSE TO SOMEONE, SHE’S AFRAID OF LETTING HER MASK FALL AND SHOWING THEM HER TRUEST SELF, SO SHE PUTS A LITTLE DISTANCE THERE—NEVER WANTING ANYONE TO CATCH HER ON AN OFF DAY. IT’S EXHAUSTING, LIKE, SHE’S EXHAUSTED ALL THE TIME BECAUSE OF IT. SHE MAY HAVE A FEW PEOPLE THAT TRULY KNOW HER, BUT FOR THE MOST PART, SHE’S A BIT OF AN ENIGMA, AND SHE PREFERS IT THAT WAY.

INSPO—

TRUTH BE TOLD, I WAS REALLY INSPIRED BY THE LIFE AND TIMES OF HOLLYWOOD’S BELOVED STARLETS FROM THE GOLDEN AGE—PRIMARILY MS. MARILYN MONROE. I’VE BEEN OBSESSED WITH HER, HER LIFE, AND HER TALENT SINCE I WAS IN MIDDLE SCHOOL, BUT IT’S ALWAYS BEEN DAUNTING TO THINK OF TRYING TO CAPTURE HER ESSENCE IN A MUSE OF MINE. NOW, I’VE DECIDED TO GIVE IT A GO. ADDITIONALLY, I PULLED A LOT OF INSPIRATION FROM KOREAN CELEBRITIES SUCH AS BAE SUJI, IM YOONA, LEE HYERI, AND KIM SEOLHYUN FOR HER BODY OF WORK.

PLOTS—

HERE ARE SOME BRIEF JUMPING OFF POINTS FOR PLOTS THAT I HAVE. I’LL MAKE A FORMAL ANNOUNCEMENT WHEN I’VE COMPLETED HER PLOTS PAGE.

01. A NEWER GENERATION IDOL WHO HAS CLAIMED HER AS THEIR IDEAL TYPE TO THE PUBLIC. THIS HAS CAUGHT HER ATTENTION, SO SHE REACHES OUT FOR FUN.

02. AN INDIVIDUAL WHO MAYBE CAUGHT HER CRYING IN HER DRESSING ROOM AT SOME POINT. SHE FREAKED OUT AND TRIED TO PLAY IT OFF AS IF SHE SIMPLY JUST MISSED HER FAMILY, BUT IT’S CLEAR THERE WAS SOMETHING DEEPER INVOLVED.

03. A YOUNGER FEMALE IDOL ( PREFERABLY A VISUAL, BUT OPEN TO ANY OTHER ROLES, AS WELL ) THAT SHE SEES A LOT OF HERSELF IN, SO SHE’S SORT OF TAKEN THEM UNDER HER WING. TOTAL BIG SISTER / LITTLE SISTER VIBES, LOTS OF LOVE.

04. AN OLDER GENERATION IDOL WHO SHE HAS A COMPLICATED DATING PAST WITH—CAN BE MALE, FEMALE, OR OTHERWISE. SHE’S DATED MEN AND WOMEN, BUT HAS A PREFERENCE FOR MEN. ALL OF THEIR HISTORY TOGETHER IS UP FOR DISCUSSION.

05. A STAFF MEMBER THAT SHE HAS A REALLY, REALLY CLOSE FRIENDSHIP WITH BEHIND THE SCENES. THEY WOULD BE CONFIDANTS AND THE STAFF MEMBER IS A PERSON THAT SHE FEELS REALLY COMFORTABLE WITH. BEST FRIEND ENERGY.

06. ANOTHER IDOL SHE MEETS TO DANCE WITH. COULD ALSO BE A WORKOUT PAL WHO SHE POLE DANCES WITH FROM TIME-TO-TIME, TOO. GENDER DOESN’T MATTER.

07. SOMEONE WHO SEES THROUGH HER FAKE SMILES AND HAS ALWAYS WANTED TO CALL HER OUT ON IT, BUT HAS NEVER SAID ANYTHING. IT’S NOT THAT THEY HATE HER, THEY JUST KNOW SHE’S A PHONY AND IT’S STARTING TO BOTHER THEM.

08. INFIDELITY TW / AN EX OF HER’S THAT SHE CHEATED ON WITH ANOTHER IDOL. WHILE SHE’S A ROMANTIC AT HEART, SHE CAN’T HELP BUT FLIRT WITH EVERYONE—AND SOMETIMES GET A LITTLE TOO INVOLVED WHEN SHE REALLY SHOULDN’T.

09. INFIDELITY TW / THE IDOL THAT SHE CHEATED ON HER EX WITH. THEY EITHER COULD’VE KNOWN ABOUT HER RELATIONSHIP AND CHOSE TO IGNORE IT, OR THEY COULD’VE BEEN COMPLETELY BLINDSIDED, AS WELL. TOTALLY YOUR CALL. THIS COULD ALSO BE BLENDED WITH PLOT POINT 04 FOR AN ADDED LAYER OF DRAMA.

10. AN ALL-OUT ENEMY THAT SHE DESPISES MORE THAN ANYTHING—WHO MORE THAN LIKELY FEELS MUTUAL—BUT TO THE PUBLIC, THEY’RE MADE OFF TO BE BEST FRIENDS. SHE KEEPS HER DISDAIN QUIET, BUT IT’S CLEAR THERE’S DISTASTE THERE.

#﹙ 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 / introduction. ﹚#ws:intro #so happy to be here!#i'm sorry that i'm late to the party! :///#can't wait to meet you. ♡

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what-do-1000-swords-look-like · 3 years

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So I read this very interesting post that was pro-Jonerys written around the time after season 7 aired, I think. It was very well-written and explored examples of Jon’s growing feelings for Dany all throughout season 7. But when I saw the examples used, I thought “oh man, this is the trap the show set and this awesome person unfortunately fell right into it.” Jonerys was meant to get our attention, to hide what was really happening with Dany behind the scenes so to speak but then shove it into the forefront in 8x05 so we would supposedly feel a jarring impact from Dany’s dark turn that we weren’t supposed to see coming. And while this person didn’t have season 8 to work with at the time (and I totes understand, season 7 was one big ball of confusing and guesswork not just for Jonerys but also other characters/story lines as well), I wanted to take another look at their examples (while also including some of my own) of Jon’s feelings for Dany in that 7th season.

Example 1):

This is meant to call to the audience a growing attraction between Jon and Dany, and tension. But notice it’s the physical Davos is mentioning here. Not that Dany is a great queen or her good heart that Jon is supposedly taking interest in. It’s a physical attraction. This is also important as it will come into play later in 8x01.

And notice how it’s Davos to bring the subject up, not Jon. This cements this is the show trying to sell the GA something, an idea, that will then later come to fruition once its “product” is sold and the GA start embracing the idea.

Example 2):

This isn’t someone who is deep in love. Dany isn’t in love here either. This is him hoping that she’ll understand how important her joining the fight is, that these cave drawings are what will cement that joining as allies against the Night King. And it almost seems as if yes, she now understands and they can work together and you can see Jon is hopeful, which she immediately dashes when saying “I will fight for you. I will fight for the North...when you bend the knee.” You can even see Jon’s disappointment after this statement.

This scene is not Jon being jealous. This is Jon studying the interaction between Jorah and Dany. Remember, this scene is on the heels of a semi-disagreement that Dany and Jon are having after she’s returned from the battle with the Lannister army. Dany is trying to convince him that she did the right thing and when she sees he’s not immediately agreeing, she gets annoyed and tries to convince him further. Then Jorah shows up. This is a side to Dany that Jon still has yet to see. Dany immediately becomes soft, is affected by it that we even see her eyes become slightly teary and she smiles, and even hugs Jorah by the end of it. This is still the Khaleesi, the Breaker Of Chains, the Mother Of Dragons even, but this is also Dany, young Dany who Jorah met back at her wedding to Drogo. This is the side of her Jon has never seen before, that he and (from what he sees) Tyrion and Varys have not been able to access. But suddenly Jorah shows up and she’s practically purring (that’s not a dig or a slight, it’s truth, her soft side came out in this scene, Emilia showcased the difference brilliantly). Because Jon still doesn’t have Dany’s promise of support yet and he can’t leave yet, it’s no wonder that he’s studying the one person that seems to bring out that side of her. And it’s also no coincidence that Jon ends up stepping into a role similar to Jorah’s in the last season. Jon is who Jorah would have become for Dany had she been able to return his feelings.

Example 3):

Yes, in the 7x06 script, it is confirmed that in this moment, after seeing Dany grieving Viserion, Jon realizes he does have feelings for her. We already know there was a growing physical attraction between them as stated by Davos above but now after seeing how Dany came to save them, he realizes okay this is who Missandei was talking about, this is who Jorah is in love with. And sure enough, we see Dany pledge to fight the Night King with him, without needing him to bend the knee. This is the same Dany the audience is charmed by, the same Dany that is fiercely stanned, the Mother Of Dragons, the Khaleesi and Breaker Of Chains, the queen many have chosen. Do I think here that Jon is head over heels? No. I think he does have feelings though that are growing, that he is starting to feel love, but it’s not an all-consuming passion and love.

Example 4) Boatsex:

Okay, before we delve into this, I want to show you something:

It is a common trope or theme that in a romance, the first kiss is shown. Whether it happens passionately or is just a small peck on the lips or an accidental smooshing, it’s always shown. Hence here are other examples of romances written on the show:

(I couldn’t find a gif of the cave scene above)

Regardless of how these pairings above ended up, regardless of these first kisses leading right into sex or not, they had build-up before that first kiss and more importantly, that first kiss is shown. These are romantic-coded relationships meant to be read romantically by the viewers as, you guessed it, romances.

This is not a romance:

Gif credit

The door is closed and the next scene we get is Dany and Jon mid-makeout, naked on the bed. The first kiss is not shown. Considering how they built up other romances on the show, if Jonerys was the “it” couple and the true romance of the show, if both loved each other so passionately, this was a very important element that they “missed”. Something that has nothing to do with the chemistry between the actors or bad writing or bad editing. It was purposely “missed”.

This scene below comes after that rolling around and a lot of people think it’s Jon gazing down on his beloved before that special moment:

I hate to burst anyone’s bubble but that’s not what this moment is. What you’re seeing is Dany is deep in this relationship happening (it’s clear as day on her face, again Emilia is just brilliant), Jon sees this and hesitates for a moment (most likely feeling somewhat guilty because his feelings are not as deep as hers but he can see how deep this is for her, notice how he keeps studying her face in the second gif), and then makes the decision to go through with it. And all during this, we have Bran’s voiceover revealing who Jon really is. Not to mention the obvious sexual positioning, it starts out with Dany on Jon’s side but over him and then he rolls them over and that’s how the sexual encounter progresses.

Dany who Doreah taught that “love comes in at the eyes”. Notice how Jon chooses to kiss Dany as they start doing the deed so their eyes are closed due to the kissing. Then compare it to the sex scene Dany has with Drogo in the tent (after Doreah’s lesson) back in season 1, where Dany is on top and in control, where she stares into Drogo’s eyes. Now rewatch the boatsex scene again. Jon was in control here.

This moment is not meant to be read a true romantic moment. You know how I know that?

This:

There was absolutely no reason to show us (the audience) Tyrion’s reaction during the love scene. Yes, I’m sure there is some jealousy and concern over how this will go but in order for the one true romance of the show to have their moment, why are we shown an outside character’s reaction not once but twice? It’s not as if there is a love triangle happening between Jon, Dany, and Tyrion. So why show us? Their love scene already has an “interrupting” factor with Bran’s voiceover that they try to mix in with the love theme of “Truth”, so why add this, too?

Because it’s not going to end well. Because it’s not a pure two-sided, mutually deep romance.

And on top of that, this interview with Peter is very telling. “He loves her -- or thinks he does.” “She’s awe inspiring.” “He knows the two of them getting together could be very dangerous.” -> this relationship or getting together will not end well

“He loves her -- or thinks he does.” “She’s awe inspiring.” -> this is the way it’s been going the whole show is the arc of Dany in the show that most people feel enamored with from characters in the show to every last GA member, the Khaleesi, the Breaker Of Chains, the Mother Of Dragons - this is who Tyrion fancies himself in love with, who he supports and has faith in; this is who Jorah is head over heels in love with; this is Missandei’s queen who she & the others have chosen; this is who Jon has started to have feelings for (as per the 7x06 script confirmation) and loves by the time they get to Winterfell. In the end, though, Dany is no longer the Khaleesi or Breaker Of Chains and has even surpassed the Mother Of Dragons arc in that she uses Drogon purely as a weapon after 8x04.

Example 5):

Going back to what Davos said up above in Example 1, we get this scene in 8x01. We see Jon and Dany being viewed by Tyrion, Davos, and Varys, while making commentary. Notice again how Davos is the one to mention a possible union of the two, ruling the 7K together. Yet, while we see what appears to be a nice moment that these guys are viewing between the couple, we purposefully are not able to hear what is being said between them, and are viewing them from a distance like these guys are. Why? Because the show is selling/pitching you the idea once again through Davos while he is selling Tyrion and Varys on the idea of a union.

youtube

When we do eventually join Dany and Jon down there, what do we see? Dany telling Jon that Sansa doesn’t like her, Jon trying to reassure her, and then her subtly threatening if Sansa doesn’t respect her...

All of this was to show you that from the outside looking in, Jon and Dany seem to be the perfect power couple, the ultimate romance (despite the Targaryen secret). But when we actually do go inside, not all is as it appears to be.

You know what reinforces that idea? This:

Jon and Dany actually had a semi-romantic moment, after displaying that the actors did indeed have chemistry in their banter before Jon rides Rhaegal, and boom, Drogon “interrupts”. To the point where Jon positions Dany in between them and keeps an eye open as he kisses Dany, watching Drogon warily. Once again, not only will this romance not end well, but it’s not a true romance. Drogon is clearly watching and you almost get a sense of distrust or at the very least, wariness. If Drogon is sentient enough to not kill Jon after he kills Dany, then he is sentient enough in this scene and that begs the question, just what is he thinking?

Example 6):

This scene, Jon says “She shouldn’t be alone” when Varys tells him how Dany has stayed in her room, locked away in her grief. This isn’t Jon saying this because he’s love struck. This is Jon being compassionate and more importantly, because he’s thinking of a certain line said to him by this man:

“A Targaryen alone in the world is a terrible thing.” And this is after he says, “No one to guide her.”

Jon now knows that he is the only family she has left in the world and now Jorah and Missandei are gone, leaving her with only Grey Worm, Varys, Tyrion, and himself to guide her. This is why Jon stayed by Dany’s side despite any amount of fear he had, despite her turning into dark!Dany at the end and leaving the Khaleesi, the Breaker Of Chains, and the Mother Of Dragons behind. He cared about her, plain and simple, but he was not head over heels in love. The show did a terrible job portraying that, because it was more interested in hiding Dany’s dark turn (while also giving hints so it’s weird why they chose to try to hide it at all) and keeping something also hidden about Jon (maybe pol!Jon? or maybe that Jon wasn’t as in love with her as she was with him? or maybe that he ultimately is the one to end up killing her? I don’t know, again, weird they gave all these hints but still kept it hidden, again, terrible job).

This doesn’t take away from the attraction he felt to Dany or any feelings of love that he had for her up to the end. He just wasn’t in love. Sure, he was awed by her like Tyrion, like Jorah, like mostly everyone else had been up until season 7. Dany’s line in 7x07 confirms this, when telling Jon about the dragons in the dragonpit: “They inspired awe and wonder. They were extraordinary.” And then she came to Westeros, a place where they had seen dragons before (think Aegon, the dragonpit, the dragon skulls in the basement of the Red Keep, the Targaryen tombs in the Sept, Aerys, Rhaegar), where Jon tells Dany if she uses the dragons (in 7x04) then she’ll “just be more of the same.” Dany’s line to Jon in 8x04 cinches it: “People have looked at me that way before. But never here. Never on this side of the sea.” The North (and Westeros) were never going to see her as the Khaleesi or the Breaker Of Chains. “The North remembers.” And the first thing Dany does when going to King’s Landing for a ceasefire talk, she rides Drogon to the dragonpit meeting. (It was smart and safer for her to do so, but Drogon of course lets out an intimidating roar before leaving, this is a land that is happy for Targaryens to remain out of power despite Cersei or the Starks or any other family). So it’s no surprise that Dany never experienced “love” in Westeros. Her dragons “overshadowed” her other two personas and once her dark turn happened (and lbr, she was on the verge of all season 8), there was no chance for the people to love her and accept her for either of those two arcs. Same goes for her relationship with Jon. Jon wasn’t ready to kill her after she massacred King’s Landing, he was actually defending her (which was very out of character and then was later confirmed by Bryan Cogman and Kit Harington as Jon being used as the audience mouthpiece and Tyrion was the writers’), ready to stand at her side, even if she chose to kill him later on. Only when it comes to his sisters, only when Dany unknowingly confirms that they indeed won’t have a choice in her new world, does he choose to act.

The show’s mistake in that scene was keeping Dany a sympathetic character until the end, which negated the moral of her story. But their even bigger mistake was using dialogue to callback to season 1 Dany, the same Dany the GA and Jon cared about, in a bid to make it a more tragic moment. It made it more tragic alright, but not in the way they were hoping.

Ship and let ship is my philosophy. So if you enjoy the idea of Jonerys, by all means, you do you. But sadly, this show really almost baited the audience with this idea of this ultimate tragic romance when it was anything but. Personally, this is why I’m anti-Jonerys. More than any other reason, this is why. The relationship wasn’t a good one for either Jon or Dany. And in my opinion, it wouldn’t have worked out even if Dany had lived, even if Dany hadn’t gone dark and burned down King’s Landing. This romance in this particular showverse was never going to be a love story for the ages. It was never meant to be.

tldr; Jon did care about Dany, had feelings, but he wasn’t in love with her. The show pulled the old bait and switch with it. They showed you a power couple that was supposed to enamor you and then break your heart, but then revealed it was never going to be the ultimate romance and negated the true moral of Dany’s story alongside Jon’s character with it.

#anti jonerys #anti jonerys meta #got posts

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full-of-jams · 4 years

Text

Good Riddance #1

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Summary: There were two things life taught you. Money bought comfort, not happiness. And love was always a gateway to pain. When your former best friend Jimin suddenly returns into your life, he challenges your belief and rips open the past you tried so hard to forget.

Genre: heirs au, girl boss, e2l, angst, mutual pining, eventual smut, feat. OT7

Warnings: swearing, Jin’s dad jokes, prissy Namjoon, a very sunny dispositioned Hobi :)

Word Count: 5.5k

A/N: I decided to rewrite Good Riddance. After I finished outlining the entire plot, I realized that the characters and story were way more nuanced. So here we go!

°°°°°°°

It was a clear night. A bit chilly for mid-September, but you preferred the cold caress of the evening breeze over the smothering atmosphere of the party. The sky was painted dark, flecked with twinkling stars. You tried to blend out the lively buzz below you as you soaked in the view. Stars were scarce commodity in the City and being out here in the countryside was a rare treat nowadays.

You let out a sigh as you leaned against the balcony and took a careful sip from your glass of champagne. The icy railing bit into your skin, but you ignored the rising goosebumps. Light and music spilled out onto the ground floor terrace beneath you. People were enjoying themselves, laughing and chatting away. Usually you didn’t mind being amidst the crowd, but tonight you gladly exchanged the glittering socialite circles for a quiet reprieve.

You felt suffocated; you had to escape.

***

It started out as a normal Saturday evening. A celebratory one at that.

“Yeah man! Namjoons! Congrats! I can’t believe you’re getting hitched!” your friend Jin almost yelled across the room. He joyously greeted the man of the night and patted him eagerly on his back.

“Ah, hyung! You almost made me spill my drink! Do you know how much this tux cost me?” Namjoon asked. Despite his complaint, he couldn’t keep his goofy grin off his face. You fondly looked at both of your childhood friends.

“C’mon don’t be so stingy Mr. Investment Banker. You can make that money back in an hour. Here, in celebration of you finally relieving your beloved out of her five-year long misery, I’ll treat you to a new joke of mine!”

Namjoon threw you a pleading glance. You simply shrugged and gestured for Jin to continue.

“This is an exclusive, so stop being so ungrateful you lot! Did you hear about the notebook who got engaged to the pencil?” Jin happily continued, glancing between the two of you, waiting for a response.

“No…?” you answered as you took a swig of champagne.

“She finally found Mr. Write!” Jin howled gleefully. You shouldn’t have laughed. It really wasn’t that funny of a joke, but Jin’s contagious cackle had you spitting out your drink.

Straight into Namjoon’s face.

“Oh my god! Joons! I’m so sorry,” you breathed between your gasps of laughter. You hastily grabbed some napkins off of a waiter passing by and started wiping his face. Jin was cracking up next to you, basically on the floor.

“Why did I ever expect anything else from the both of you? Why are we friends again?” Namjoon muttered in irritation as he took a napkin off your hands and patted down his tux.

You managed to stifle your laughter, “Because you looooove us. I’m sorry Joonie, really! I’ll pay your dry-cleaning.” You gave him your best puppy eye impression.

“Ugh, it’s fine Y/N. Stop trying to be cute, it’s giving me the creeps,” Namjoon groaned. You dropped your puppy eyes and gave him a stink eye instead.

Jin finally calmed down and threw an arm over his friend’s shoulder. “C’mon Namjoon, Y/N’s right. You love us. Your life would be boring without us. If it weren’t for your exquisite, completely-out-of-your-league fiancée, we’d be getting married right now!”

“You wish,” Namjoon grumbled.

“I’m handsome, I’m funny, I can cook, I’m filthy rich, I’m a catch!” Jin exclaimed indignantly.

You nodded in solemn agreement, “He’s got a point. He’s a catch. You would make a lovely couple.” Your somber façade started to crack as another giggle escaped your lips.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m glad at least the two of you are having fun. On that note, did you see Jimin yet? I heard he’s back in town, he RSVP’d to the party”.

Your smile dropped; every trace of humor gone. “Who?”

Namjoon gave you a strange look and repeated slowly, “Park Jimin. He’s supposed to be here tonight.”

Your heart dropped. Fuck.

You forced a smile back on your face and ignored the furtive glance Jin gave Namjoon. “Oh really? He’s back? How long has it been? I’m sure his family must have missed him.”

“I’m pretty sure the whole City missed our golden boy,” Namjoon said with an awkward laugh.

Your voice turned steely, “Not sure I’d go as far as the whole City, but yeah I can imagine how he has them fooled and wrapped around his finger. I think I better go refill my glass, most of it landed on your face.” You excused yourself and walked away from the boys. In the background you heard Jin reprimand Namjoon, “Way to kill the mood, man!”

“I thought she should know. Better than to run head-first into him!”

“Whatever, c’mon take me to your bride-to-be! I need to tell her my joke!”

***

Later that evening you found yourself on the third-floor guest bedroom balcony, indulging in the starry night sky.

Alone.

You tried to lose yourself in the moment, telling yourself to enjoy this rare occasion.

After a view minutes you decided your attempts were futile. Who were you kidding? You were hiding.

Suddenly the bedroom door opened behind you, light spilled in from the hallway. You shifted your eyes and saw the outline of a sleek figure standing in the doorway.

You immediately straightened up, your long red dress rustled slightly against your body. The figure stilled for a second as he scanned the dark space. His eyes landed on you. He closed the door and slowly crossed the room.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You carefully kept a blank face and trained your gaze back to the seemingly captivating night sky. You took another big sip of champagne.

“Here you are, Y/N,” the words came out in a soft breath. His voice was quiet, but it was unmistakably deeper than the last time you heard it.

Don’t you get it? I don’t want you here. No one wants you here. The never-ending mantra that haunted you for the last decade. You wanted it to stop.

“Why are you hiding up here?” You threw him a sideways glance as he stepped up next to your side. The moonlight hit his cheekbones, his features were half lit and half hidden in the shadows.

Immediate regret coursed through your mind.

He looked good.

You hated that bastard.

“Who said I was hiding?” you answered in a disinterested tone. He was of course right, but he didn’t have to know that. „I was trying to enjoy my peace and quiet. Alone.” You waved your glass in his general direction without sparing him another glance.

Silence fell; you could feel his gaze on you. You silently prayed he would turn around and leave. Unfortunately he didn’t, or more likely refused to take the hint.

“You don’t seem surprised to see me. I thought I recognized you earlier. If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve guessed you were avoiding me. But that can’t be it, the great Y/N is nothing if not head-on. It’s good to see you again,” he said in an amused tone.

You tensed at his words, your inner voice warring whether to simply ignore him or not. Your rational side sighed in defeat as you gave up your haphazard attempt at stargazing and reluctantly turned your attention to the boy next to you. There was no point in avoiding him, your voice justified. As much as you wanted to, people like the both of you couldn’t afford to ignore each other. You both knew this.

Might as well rip the Band-Aid off now, fast.

“What are you doing here, Park? Did you run out of millionaires to greet downstairs, who’d pat your back and toast on your return to the City? Maybe you shouldn’t have hijacked Namjoon’s engagement party for this. But then again, manners were never your strong suit.” You willed yourself to sound bored and took a measured drink from your glass.

There was another beat of silence as your words hung in the air. You snuck a closer look at him. His hair was parted sideways, falling slightly into his eyes. He wore an elegant waistcoat and slacks. A simple black tie graced his neck.

The years did him well. He looked different than you remembered. Better.

Fuck. You had to have a strict conversation with that inner voice of yours.

As your gaze moved back up, you noticed that his eyes were searching your face. All of a sudden the evening air seemed cold. You had forgotten how his gaze always made you feel. Bared and exposed. Despite your discomfort, you kept your poker face and refused to break the stifling awkwardness. Both of you let another second of silence pass.

Go away.

“Sharp-tongued and witty as ever. I missed that.” He chuckled.

Liar. Still, your defiant little heart skipped a beat. You silently vowed to yourself to meditate more. That mind over matter shit was clearly not kicking in.

“I’m already done with all the millionaires downstairs. So I thought I’d come and greet some old friends up here.” He stuffed his hands into his pockets and gave you a nonchalant shrug.

“We’re not friends, Park.” you shot back.

Jimin dramatically clutched his chest as if hit by a bullet. “Harsh words. And here I thought you’d be the happiest one to see me.”

Your only response was hard silence. Go away. Please.

He continued to disregard your silent prayers, “And what’s up with calling me Park? We’re not in high school anymore. Calling people by their last name is not gonna earn you any street cred, you know? Is this how you treat all your clients? I’m disappointed, tsk.” The boy clicked his tongue in taunting disapproval.

Your brain whirred as you processed what he just said. Shit. Shit.

“Your father is our new client with that new mystery project?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself.

A slight frown set between his eyes. “My father? Park Corp. consists of more than just my father. And he’s definitely not going to be working on that project.”

You dismissed his words with a wave of your hand, “Park Corp., your father, all the same. It’s just semantics.” Jimin wanted to argue back, but you ignored him and continued, “Don’t be so naïve, Park.” You quirked an eyebrow as you used his last name again. Nobody told you what you could or couldn’t do.

“Your old man never lets his turf go unsupervised, especially if it’s a project developed in the City. You should know that better than anyone else. But how did my dad agree to this? He said he’d never work with your father. He thinks money and business ruin good friendships…” You suddenly realized you were babbling and bit down on your tongue.

Damn it, how do you end this conversation fast? Ideally in a way which didn’t involve insulting the son of your biggest new client. Okay, maybe a bit of insulting was allowed. He wasn’t your client yet.

Jimin’s frown deepened before it was slowly replaced by a shrewd smile.

Uh oh. This didn’t bode well.

“Your father agreed to this because I convinced him.” His stupid smile grew wider as he leaned in. Your mind went blank at his sudden proximity, his woodsy scent marred your senses. “As I said, Park Corp. consists of more than just my father. He’s not overseeing this project. I am.”

You swallowed hard.

No one wants you here.

“Jimin. What do you want from me?” You had to shut him down, you had to shut your memories down.

He laughed quietly, leaned in even closer and breathed against your ear, “Like you said, I just wanted to toast with some of my millionaire friends.“ In one smooth move he swiped the glass out of your hand and knocked back the rest of your champagne.

You were too perplexed to react.

“I’ll leave you to your peace and quiet again. I should go greet some other millionaires, maybe even a billionaire or two. See you Monday,“ Jimin winked and turned to leave.

See you Monday. See you Monday?!

He stopped at the balcony door, turned around and looked at you again for another long moment. “Before I forget. I meant it when I said it’s good to see you again.” There was an odd sincerity in his voice. Your heart constricted. “You look good Y/N. I missed you.” With those words he headed back inside.

Fuck.

You were out of champagne.

***

>Beep<

“Yes Ms. L/N?”

“Ash, is this the updated schedule for today?”

“Yes, Ms. L/N. Your conference call with the London team on the current bidding process is in 15 minutes. At 10.30 a.m. there’s the project briefing with Eptá. You have a lunch date with Mr. Kim today. I placed a reservation at the restaurant at 1 p.m. I also cleared your afternoon schedule, per your request, so you can go investigate the properties. And at 8 p.m. you have your call with the West Coast team on the new development portfolio. It hasn’t changed since the last time you asked me 20 minutes ago.”

You ignored the slight annoyance in your assistant’s voice. Ash was nothing if not efficient. How wonderful.

“Ok thanks Ash.”

>Beep<

“Ms. L/N, you seem a bit on edge today. Would you like some chamomile tea to calm your nerves?” she added in a sugary voice.

How. Wonderful.

“That’s very thoughtful of you Ash, but I think I’ll pass,” you answered just as sweetly. “Please follow up with Ren on the financial analysis and make sure to bring me the finalized report by end of today.”

There was a brief pause on the line.

“Of course, Ms. L/N.”

>Beep<

You leaned back in your chair and let out a groan. How did you let yourself get to this point?

It was Monday morning. Two restless nights and three morning espressos in, you had to acknowledge that your brief conversation with Jimin affected you more than you were willing to admit.

Damn that boy and his empty words.

You closed your eyes and focused your mind on your breathing. After a few moments you released all your tension, determined to concentrate on the matters at hand. Any useless thought spent on that guy was just a waste of your precious energy.

Thankfully you were easily able to get back in the game. Your morning call went well. The team did excellent research and prep work and with a little bit of luck the bid would be as good as yours.

>Beep<

“Ms. L/N, your 10:30 appointment has arrived. Mr. Gardner and Mr. Jung have just registered at reception.”

“Send them straight in once they’re here.”

>Beep<

You briefly checked your appearance in the standing mirror and straightened your blouse. Then you gathered the files that you’ve carefully studied over the past week and brought everything to your office seating area. You were told you were specifically requested by this client and you wondered what made them so special. Special enough for your father to insist.

There was a knock on your door and then Ash came in followed by the two men.

“Mr. Gardner and Mr. Jung,” Ash announced.

You were about to greet your guests as you did double-take and froze. There, in the middle of your office stood Park Jimin. He wore a fitted light grey suit with a slim black tie, his hair elegantly sleeked back. Next to him his companion wore something more casual and flowy. His auburn mop of hair offset the cream color of his suit.

What the hell? Is this some kind of sick joke?

It took you a moment to realize that you blurted that last thought out loud. You cleared your throat and tried to compose yourself. “What are you doing here?” A clear hint of dread seeped into your voice.

Jimin laughed at your bewildered expression. Ash and Jimin’s companion glanced curiously between the both of you.

“I’m here to talk business, remember? C’mon you didn’t drink that much at the party to have a blackout. You were sulking around in the corner for the rest of the night. Don’t deny it, I saw you.”

You scowled at him. “Last time I checked your name was not Mr. Gardner nor Mr. Jung and you for sure don’t work for a company called Eptá. What game are you playing Park J…?”

Suddenly Jimin’s companion interrupted you,“Ms. L/N, how about we discuss our matters in a more private setting?” He briefly eyed Ash and the open door to the rest of your office floor.

You gave him an irritated glance but decided to concede. He was right, there was no point in making a scene in the middle of the office. Work was work and you were a professional. You could deal with that jerk later.

“Yes, of course. My apologies, I got carried away. Can I offer you gentlemen something to drink? Coffee? Tea?”

“Coffee would be amazing,” Jimin quipped while he sauntered to the chairs, unbuttoned his suit and sat down.

You threw him a dirty look before you turned to Ash who was taking in the entire scene with immense interest. “Ash could you please bring us some coffee and water?” You turned back to the companion and added, “Please have a seat.”

Once Ash left the room and everyone sat down, Jimin’s companion reached out his hand. “I’m Jung Hoseok, nice to meet you. My partner here has told me a lot about you. I’m sorry if we surprised you like this. Unfortunately, we have to treat the topics we are to discuss today with the highest discretion.”

Jimin told this guy about you?

“Wow Mr. Jung, what an honor. I really enjoyed your last article in the Financial Times. It was very insightful and innovative. L/N Y/N. It’s nice to meet you too.” You shook his hand, your curiosity piqued.

Hoseok gave you an easy smile and continued, “Of course you already know Mr. Park here. You probably have a rough idea about the project at hand through the briefing document we sent through earlier, but before we continue to go into detail, I’d like to ask you to please review and sign this NDA.”

You weren’t unfamiliar with signing NDAs. Real estate development was a lucrative but sensitive business, especially in this city. Client discretion and secrecy was always a given at your father’s company. But if it made your clients feel safer, you were also happy to sign a legal document to ensure no trade secrets were spilled.

While you read through the terms of the document, Ash came back with a tray of refreshments.

“Here’s two coffees, water, milk and sugar at your free disposal. And one chamomile tea for you Miss.” She set the teacup in front of you as you gave her a sharp look.

She remained unbothered and asked in a saccharine voice, “Is there anything else I can get you?”

This girl…

“That would be all,” you dismissed her out of your office. If she had time to be sassy, she could handle your curtness.

After you signed the NDA you reached for the briefing document and flipped through your notes. “Mr. Park, Mr. Jung, I understand your need for discretion, but I’m a bit confused. I reviewed the briefing document and it describes your plans to revitalize the shipyard district. It does provide significant redevelopment opportunities and I’m sure it’s a great investment due to the rising popularity of the area, but to be frank, this is nothing you should hide from your competitors. Actually, it would be more beneficial to publicly market the redevelopment, as it would draw in more investors and increase the property value at a faster pace.”

You paused for a second and looked up at the two men. Hoseok opened his mouth, but before he could jump in you smoothly continued, “But I’m sure two smart gentlemen like you already know all of this. I checked our company’s asset register and we have no significant ongoing activities there at the moment.”

Jimin lifted an expectant eyebrow. And?

Was this some weird game of his? A test? Fine, you could play along.

“What we do have is a full-blown development plan for 53rd Street, which I’ve been asked to work on off-record for a mystery project in the past month. So tell me, why are you really here? Let’s stop wasting our time pretending we’re interested in finding ways to remove and recycle rusty hulls.“

Hoseok looked positively impressed. Good. “Phew, you weren’t kidding Jimin when you said she was smart as a whip. You really did your homework Ms. L/N”.

Jimin complimented you in front of strangers? Somehow this notion bugged you even more.

You brushed off Hoseok’s comment. “Mr. Jung, please, that’s my job. If you’re that easily impressed maybe I should increase my rates,” you deadpanned.

Hoseok blinked at you for a moment until he realized you were joking and started to laugh.

You smiled back at him.

Business rule #1 – always have a friend on the other side.

Your gaze shifted to Jimin and you noticed he was quietly observing you. Once again you felt exposed. Just like on that night of the party.

Focus.

You stared straight back and silently challenged him to say something.

“Yes Y/N, you’re right. Let’s stop pretending.”

No manners, not even in a business environment. What did you expect?

“We’re looking to branch out Park Corp. The hospitality industry is changing; travel and lifestyle trends are changing. As leaders of this industry we should spearhead that change.”

It was the first time you heard him talk in such a serious and determined way.

He briefly nodded at Hoseok and Hoseok brought out a new briefing document. The real briefing document. It had the word ‘Gaea’ printed on the front.

As you flipped through it, your jaw dropped. Your animosities subdued by the remarkable idea which unfolded in front of your eyes. What you read and saw was one of the most ambitious projects ever drafted. You felt a mixture of skepticism but also awe and excitement bubble up inside of you.

“An eco-hotel?” you asked aloud.

Jimin snorted, “Please don’t insult my intelligence. Look again.”

For a brief second you had forgotten who sat opposite of you. You swallowed your retort and flipped through the document again, gathering your thoughts.

You tried a second time, “It’s a new luxury experience. Seamlessly blending sustainability with affluence. A fully integrated concept of lifestyle, art and nature encapsulated in its own microcosm.”

Bingo.

This time Jimin nodded eagerly and leaned forward. “The new generation has a different view on things. The success of our company, of any company, is being measured through the impact we make in this world. They are the ones who are the breadwinners. They are willing to go deep into their pockets to appease their conscience yet unwilling to give up the luxuries that they are used to.”

You carefully took a sip of your tea and asked, “So you’re appealing to their sense of guilt? I’m not sure that’s the smartest thing to do, especially when it comes to hospitality.”

Jimin shook his head. “No. Not at all. People don’t want to be confronted with sustainability mantras or their own carbon footprint at every corner they turn. We’re not here to preach to them. We do what we do best - offer them a beautiful escape from their daily lives.” His eyes glinted as he explained his vision.

Jimin continued, “Travelling is an indulgence. When people travel they want to be pampered. They want to feel special. The last thing they want is to have a mirror shoved in front of their face. They don’t want to sleep on scratchy cotton, just because it’s recycled. Not when they’re paying $300 a night.” Next to him Hoseok nodded in agreement. Jimin glanced over and gave him a small smile.

They are friends. You realized with a small pang. You immediately pushed that thought aside.

“But what they will be interested in is that the tomatoes in their $25 Insalata di Caprese are grown right in the rooftop gardens they visited in the morning. That the honey harvested from the 7th floor tastes floral whereas the honey from the 10th floor has a deep, rich aroma because the bees fly to the park facing west. They’ll be mesmerized to see that the calories they burn on our treadmills fuel the lights of the beautiful art installation in the courtyard below them. Depending on their exertion the art changes and evolves. They’ll be surprised when they realize that the filtered and recycled water pumped through the veins of the building, fueling the water installation, the swimming pool or their en-suite Jacuzzis, is grade A drinking water. We are increasing our guests’ sustainability literacy by taking them into a world of wonder, providing them luxury experiences and showing them that one doesn’t exclude the other.” Jimin paused briefly to take a drink from his coffee.

His eyes settled back on you as he set down his cup. “This is what my project Gaea is about. Modern Mother Nature in the palm of your hands. There’s more of course, but we don’t have to go into all of the details right now.”

There was a moment of silence as you let Jimin’s words sink in and thought about how to respond. You were surprised by his demeanor. Unlike some investors who thought that the millions in their pockets made them into walking gods, you knew he wasn’t a spoiled brat. The Jimin of your past has always been a hard worker. But this was different. There was a sense of conviction and passion in the way he talked about this project.

You decided to go with a safe response. “I never thought of you to be such tree-hugger and activist, Mr. Park.”

A slow smirk spread across his face. “Don’t misconstrue this, I’m not trying to play saint.”

You snorted dismissively at his remark. He was the golden boy, he always tried to play saint. And the people fell for it.

Hoseok gave the both of you a tentative look.

Jimin shrugged casually, “Above all, I’m interested in growing our company. Let me be clear - my goal is to be successful no matter what. Might as well make a difference while I’m at it.”

You tried hard to discern his intentions. Why was he trying to play the cold businessman when he was clearly passionate about this topic?

Focus. Focus on the work.

You went back to the briefing document and flipped through the pages again, putting your analyst brain to work. “This is an interesting concept. While not novel in the industry, the mixture of lifestyle, art, experience and luxury is definitely an untried combination. It could work…,” your voice trailed off in thought.

“But?” You lifted your head, Jimin gave you a piercing look. You were surprised by the earnestness you found in his face. He was interested to hear your opinion. Your intuition was right, this was clearly not just an investment project to him.

“It could also just be a trend, a fad. You’re investing $730 million here. Whatever you’re doing, you want it to stick the first time. Yes, concepts can be changed and the location we’re developing at is prime real estate. So it doesn’t lessen the value of the property, but it would damage your brand. It would still be considered a failure and that would stick to your name. I can’t stop you, but if you want to pursue this idea I would personally recommend you do some tests and market research first,“ you voiced your genuine concern. Regardless of how you felt about Park Jimin personally, you didn’t want to ill-advise your client.

Jimin’s grin returned and grew impossibly wider. He leaned forward and took another sip of coffee. “Is that concern I hear in your voice Y/N? I’m touched,” he said in mocking delight.

Maybe you were willing to make an exception with this client. What a cocky bastard.

“Thanks for worrying, but this will work. Do you really think our executive board would have approved that amount of money without asking exactly those questions and many more? Hoseok here grilled me like I was at the Spanish Inquisition before he agreed to work with me.”

His friend threw him an apologetic smile. “I’ve got a reputation and a career to uphold, man,” Hoseok insisted.

Jimin chuckled lightly and continued, “It won’t fail Y/N. What do you think I’ve been doing the last few years?”

I don’t want you here. You wouldn’t know. You didn’t care.

Focus.

“Research. It works, I’ve already proven it on a smaller scale.”

You perused his features. There was determination and confidence. Under any other circumstance you would’ve thought it was foolish confidence, but you also saw the way Hoseok looked at his business partner. If one of the world’s most renowned financial strategists had full faith in this endeavor, maybe so should you.

After you triple checked the numbers.

As if Hoseok read your mind he proposed, “Jimin, I suggest you ask Jungkook to send Ms. L/N the business case. I know it’s not strictly necessary, but she’s going to be part of the team, she signed your NDA. We should play with open cards.”

One heck of a team. To have Jung Hoseok as your financial advisor.

A new thought started to nag in the back of your head. Usually you would never ask, but this was Jimin you were talking about. You had to know.

“Why me?”

“Excuse me?”

“You mentioned you got my dad to agree to work with you. It mustn’t have been easy to convince him to break his principles. So why? Why go through all this effort?”

“Are you really asking me why I decided to hand a $730 million project to you on a silver platter?” Jimin asked in wry amusement.

Now that he put it that way, your question did sound dense. You brushed off the judgement. You had to know what you were getting yourself into. No way you were going in blind.

“Tell me,” you persisted, your face resolute.

He stared at you for a long moment, deliberating his answer.

“Actually Ms. L/N we decided to go…”

Jimin interrupted Hoseok, “I chose your company because you’re the best in the country, maybe even globally. We did an evaluation and you came out on top. Gaea is an important milestone for Park Corp., so I think it’s only obvious to go with the best to guarantee its success.”

You were surprisingly disappointed. What a textbook answer. You decided to dig deeper.

“I get why you chose to work with Spring Development, but this doesn’t answer the question why you specifically requested for me to work on this project.”

You remembered the heated discussion you had with your father. How you refused to blindly take on a client who you, and more importantly the internet, knew nothing about.

“Because you were recommended as the best,” Jimin simply said.

“Bullshit,” you fired back.

Jimin let out a low sigh and ran his fingers through his hair. “Why can’t you just let it go?” he muttered to himself.

You stiffened at his remark. What was that supposed to mean?

“It’s not bullshit. You were recommended as the best. I followed your Aquarium project,” he finally revealed.

He kept tabs on you? The Aquarium project? Normally you were pretty good at reading people, but deciphering this boy was becoming increasingly impossible.

“The Aquarium project was a disaster,” you retorted. You started to doubt this man’s sanity.

Hoseok coughed quietly and interrupted your exchange, “Ms. L/N I can understand your skepticism. You’re right the project was a disaster, but that was because the owner and investors were morons who didn’t listen to advice. It’s now up and running and it’s become profitable in less than 12 months. That’s a huge feat considering the circumstances. It shows that you can work under pressure, you’re creative and very good at what you do. Although we’ve assembled the best team, Gaea won’t be an easy undertaking. We want someone like you. We need someone like you.”

Jimin hummed in agreement.

This was not the answer you expected.

You straightened yourself up and made up your mind. Business was business, and Hoseok was right. This project was going to be a challenge. You loved a good challenge, and this was too good of an opportunity to let pass by. You were perfectly capable of keeping your private matters separate.

“Alright gentlemen, I look forward to working with you. Should I take you through our current development analysis?”

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12/04/20

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