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e-dubbc11 · 2 years

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Happy Birthday

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google

Pairing: Billy Russo x F! Reader

Warnings: Handful of swear words, some tears, and a tiny bit of angst

Word Count: 4220-ish (I didn’t mean for it to be this long, I’m sorry)

Summary: You’re having a formal masquerade birthday party. Everyone is invited, family, friends, co workers, even your very handsome boss said he would come

A/N: I will do another author’s note at the end because, well…you’ll see. Again, this is MY Billy Russo. Oh! And Frank Castle shows up in this one!

As always, thank you for reading! I appreciate it so much and comments are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕💕

The date was rapidly approaching and you were pretty sure everything was coming together. The venue, the food, music, decorations, and the most important part of any birthday party, the cake.

Your dress would be ready in a week, the party is the weekend after and you couldn’t be more excited and grateful to your parents for helping to pay for this event because that’s exactly what it had turned into, an event.

You’ve never had an extravagant birthday party like this before, not even when you turned 21, they had all been very low-key—16, 18, and 21. 30 seemed like a good age to really go over the top and why shouldn’t you? It’s your birthday!

The entire office at Anvil RSVP’d, even your boss, Billy Russo, sent in his reply. You honestly didn’t think he would come but you couldn’t invite the entire office and not invite him. You made sure to only take care of party stuff on your breaks or your lunch break, Mr. Russo was a great boss but you didn’t want to take advantage of his kindness.

He hired you even though you didn’t have that much experience working in that type of environment or with veterans but the past year has been very educational for you and you were very thankful to him for giving you a chance. So even though he was your boss, you wanted to invite him, and you had a little bit of a crush on him too.

The theme of the party was formal Masquerade with a darker flair to it. Your favorite holiday was Halloween and you’re a Fall baby so Halloween decorations were just decorations at your apartment, skull decorations mostly.

The decorations for the party are a lot of fairy lights, drip candles inside of black candelabras, red roses, black obsidian hand carved skulls at every table. The table at the entrance will be covered with different shaped vases filled with all red candies, skull and mask cookies with royal icing and next to those was going to be your birthday cake. It was multi-tiered strawberries and cream inside a vanilla cake, covered in black icing with gold drip icing cascading from the top, small gold skulls and red roses on top.

One day during your lunch break and in between phone calls to finalize details for the party, Frank Castle walked through on his way to talk to Billy in his office. Frank and Billy were best friends, after their time in the service, Billy started Anvil, and he recruited Frank to come work for him. Frank stopped at your desk.

“How ya doin’, kid?”

You looked up from your lunch. “Hi Frank! Things are good! Maria and the kids doin’ well?”

Frank beamed at the mention of his wife and kids. “Oh you know it. They’re good, everyone’s good. How’s that party planning comin’ along? Getting that last minute stuff taken care of?”

You let out a big exhale. “Oh yeah, all those small details I’m taking care of today and I’m picking up my dress after I get out of here.”

He started walking towards Billy’s office. “Alright kid, well I know you’ll get shit done and I can’t wait for next weekend, I’m excited to see what you put together. I’ll see ya around, gotta go talk to the boss.” He pointed at Billy’s office.

When you looked up towards Billy’s office, he was standing in the doorway waiting for Frank and all you heard was Billy say “Close the door, Frankie.” Oh to be a fly on the wall in that room right now.

Inside Billy’s Office

Frank sat down in the chair across from Billy’s desk. “Y/N—she’s a good kid, yeah?”

Billy was staring off into space and he didn’t hear a word Frank just said “Huh? What’d ya say, Frankie?”

Frank had a smirk on his face. “I said, Y/N—she’s a good kid.” He chuckled.

Billy looked slightly annoyed, frowned and squinted his eyes at Frank. “What’s so funny?”

Frank laughed again. “I can tell you like her, Bill. You goin’ to her birthday party, yeah? She invited everyone, should be a good time. You’re gonna tell her?”

Billy sat at the edge of his desk with a slightly confused look on his face. “Tell her what, Frankie?”

Frank genuinely wanted to help his friend out, he wanted to see him happy. “Look Bill, I’ve known you a long time and I’ve never seen you look at a woman the way you look at her and I know there have been more than a few women. Tell her, before someone else snatches her up.”

Billy brushed his beard with his fingers then rubbed the back of his neck, he knew Frank was right. There were a few guys around the office he could tell they had a thing for you so he had a decision to make.

He managed a smile and said to Frank “Well, whatever will I wear?”

They both started cracking up.

*************************************************

After work, you went to the dress shop to try your dress on to make sure all the alterations were done, it was perfect and you could not wait to show it off at the party. Then you took an Uber over to one of your favorite places to walk around…Fifth Avenue.

Walking along 5th Avenue was always an adventure, you never knew what you were going to see. People from all over came to walk up and down that street, it was indeed a special place.

The luxury stores were planted one right after the other, Gucci, Louis Vuitton, Saks, Cartier, Armani, Tiffany & Co., and Dior. Looking in all the windows of these stores was one of your favorite things to do from a very young age.

After talking to the caterer and giving them the final head count, you stopped at one of your favorite sets of windows, Harry Winston. All of the gemstones and diamonds reflecting off of the lights were really quite beautiful, you’d never know what it’s like to actually wear something so glamorous but it was fun to imagine.

You felt someone stop and stand next to you, and then you heard his voice, that soft, soothing voice of Mr. Russo’s drew you in, his slight New York accent made everything he said sound incredibly sexy even though you were sure he didn’t mean for it to be.

“Well, good afternoon Miss Y/L/N. Are you browsing or buying on Fifth Avenue today?”

You let out a nervous laugh. “I think if I was buying anything, I’d say you’re paying me too much money, Mr. Russo.” He let out a little chuckle. You looked in the window at the diamond earrings that were shining so bright, they were burning a hole into your retinas. “They’re so beautiful aren’t they?” He wasn’t looking at the diamonds when he replied “Yes, yes they are.” And he quickly looked away from you when you turned to face him.

Noticing he had a bag in his hand from Bergdorf Goodman, you excitedly asked him “Oooh Bergdorf’s! And what did YOU buy on Fifth Avenue today, Mr. Russo?”

He held up the small bag at eye level and answered with “Oh this?” He shook his head. “Ah, well it’s something to wear to your party, so I can’t show you yet. And please y/n, call me Billy.”

Billy really was the most handsome man you’d ever met. You remembered walking in for your interview at Anvil, locking eyes with him, and immediately felt the heat rush to your cheeks and you were hoping he didn’t notice. And the same thing happened just now when he asked you to call him by his first name, again hoping he wouldn’t notice. You tried to play it off though.

“Oh a surprise? I love surprises! Well I can’t wait to see it. I’ll see you tomorrow Mr. Russo, Billy, I gotta get my dress home.”

He gave you the biggest smile before he walked away. “Have a nice night, y/n.”

That smile, oh that smile made you weak in the knees and stumble over your words. “Umm, yeah. You too.” You bit your bottom lip as you watched him walk away.

The final head count for the party was about 75 between family, friends, and co-workers and the week leading up to that day very busy. You were busy before work, during work, during work breaks, and after work just making sure everything would run like clockwork the day of the party. In the midst of all the chaos, you had forgotten to ask Billy for the day before your party, off.

It made you nervous every time you had to go see him in his office for anything. Could he tell you had a crush on him? Could anyone else tell? Right before your lunch break, you knocked on his office door.

He looked up from his papers and waved you inside. “Please y/n, come in.”

Billy was probably going to say no but you asked anyway. “Mr. Russo, I know it’s last minute, I completely forgot to ask for the day off tomorrow to get some errands done before Saturday. You have every right to say no, it just completely slipped my mind and—“

He interrupted you. “Of course, absolutely.”

You weren’t sure you heard him correctly, you’ve heard other people ask for last minute days off and it didn’t go well…for them. “I’m sorry, did you say ok?”

“Yes y/n. Please, take the day. I’m sure you have a lot to do before Saturday.”

Stunned, you replied “Oh wow, thank you Mr. Russo, sorry—Billy, thank you so much. I’m so sorry it’s last minute, I promise it will never happen again I just—“

Messing with you a little, Billy put his serious voice on. “Y/n, I have a lot of work to do as do you, I’m sure.” He noticed your mouth drop a little and Frank walked up behind you.

“Yes sir, I’m sorry…I’m sorry.” You couldn’t stop apologizing.

His voice became playful. “Y/n?”

“Yes Mr. Russo?”

He cracked a smile. “I’m kidding.”

Breathing a sigh of relief and letting out a nervous laugh, you responded “Oh!! Ok then!” You handed him some papers he had to sign. “I’m going to leave these for you to sign and I’ll see you before I leave today—Hey Frank!!!!”

Frank gave you a sly smirk. “Hey kid, you kickin’ ass today?”

“And takin’ names!” You stated as you walked away. “I’ll see you guys later.”

Before Frank closed the office door, he heard Billy say “Yes, you will.”

Inside Billy’s Office

Frank was grinning at Billy. “You really got it bad for her, don’t you Bill!”

Billy got up from his chair and started pacing back and forth, wide eyed and nervous, he watched you walk away from his office and waited until you got far enough away so you wouldn’t hear him.

“Keep your voice down, Frankie!”

Amused, Frank sat down in one of the office chairs. “Ah, she can’t hear us and you know that.”

Billy sat back down behind his desk with his elbows resting on top of the desk and then he ran his fingers through his hair. “Alright, she’s gone.”

Frank enjoyed seeing Billy squirm like this because he’s never seen him act this way before.

“Ok, now what did you call me in here for that was ‘so important?’ I got shit to do.”

Billy took out the Bergdorf Goodman bag from his desk drawer. “I bought something to wear to her party and I wanted to run it by you, make sure it’s not, ya know…stupid.”

Frank looked at Billy a little confused. “You’re askin me for fashion advice, Bill? Maria tells me what to wear and I just do what she tells me, you must be really in love with her if you’re asking me for my opinion.”

From the bag, Billy took out something wrapped in tissue paper. He unfolded the tissue paper to reveal a black and burgundy red tie designed with skulls and delicate foliage detailing all over it.

Frank stared at it, felt the fabric and traced one of the skulls with his thick calloused fingers. He was impressed. “I tell ya what, Bill. I’m not into this stuff but this is badass and she is going to love this on you.”

These words seem to put Billy at ease. “Yeah? You think so? I noticed the party invitations had skulls and roses all over them in addition to the masks so, I took a guess.”

Frank stood up and was getting ready to leave Billy’s office. “Ya know Bill, you are the toughest son of a bitch I’ve ever known, but I think you’ve found the woman that turns you into a pile of mush. Maria does the same thing to me.”

Before he walked out of the office, Frank stopped and pointed at Billy and uttered two words “Tell…her.”

*************************************************

Friday you had gone to get your nails done with your mother, your aunt and your best friend, Ginger. “So is this smoke show, that you call your boss, showing up?”

“Yes Ginger, he said he was coming.” You told her.

Your mother, your aunt and Ginger couldn’t wait to get a look at Billy, she asked about Frank also.

“What about that other guy from your office you like to talk about, what’s his name? Fred?”

You started cracking up. “Frank, Ginger! His name is Frank and he’s married, he’s just super nice and he’s Mr. Russo’s best friend.”

Her eyes were smiling and she had her finger up to her lips like she was thinking.

“I know that look, Ginger. He’s my boss.”

She shrugged her shoulders. “Hey, just come work with me. The Navy just gave us a new contract, they’ll be hiring like crazy.”

The smile from your face slowly disappeared. “He doesn’t like me like that anyway—besides, he can have anyone he wants. What would he want with me?”

Ginger pressed her lips together in a straight line before she blurted out “Listen up, miss. You are more beautiful than Cinderella! You smell like pine needles and your face is like sunshine!”

The laughter that escaped your mouth was so loud, it scared half the people in the nail salon. “Did you seriously just Bridesmaids me?!!” You could always count on Ginger to make you feel better about anything.

The day had finally arrived, after a few months of planning, your masquerade birthday party was about to kick off and you hoped everything was going to run smoothly.

The venue was decorated so beautifully, just how you imagined it would look in your head. Everything from the flowers, the drip candles in the candelabras, the black hand carved skulls, and the tables that held all the candy, cookies and your birthday cake—they all looked exquisite.

Guests started to arrive and made their way to get drinks and appetizers and of course made sure they came over to you to wish you a happy birthday.

Everyone complimented your dress. It was black and burgundy, floor length, strapless with a sweetheart neckline. It was fitted through the hips, the skirt had a slight flare and it made you feel confident and beautiful. Your mask was black lace that tied in the back.

Your family was always late for everything so they were almost the last to arrive—almost. Where was he? All of your co-workers and your friends were there—you saw your mother talking to Frank and Maria, hoping she wasn’t saying anything to embarrass you.

“Happy Birthday, sweetheart.” Frank smiled at you. “This is a great party, well done, kid!”

You blushed a little but only because you were proud of the hard work you put into this. “Well I couldn’t have done it without my parents.” You smiled at your mom. “They did help pay for a lot of it.” You nervously looked around the party, scanning the crowd for Billy.

You excused yourself and went over to the bar to get a drink when you felt someone crash into you from behind. It was Ginger and she was pointing straight ahead over your shoulder. “Is that HIM? It’s him isn’t it?!!!”

The bartender handed you your drink. “First of all Ginger, RELAX! And second of all, oh my god that is him.”

Billy walked into the room wearing a crisp black suit, his tie looked black and burgundy from a distance, and he had a black mask on.

Ginger started pushing you to go talk to him. “Girrrrllllll. Get your beautiful ass on over there before I do.”

You took a sip of your drink, Billy’s beautiful dark brown eyes met yours and you started walking towards him. Because of his long legs, his strides were twice as long as yours.

He looked confident and in charge just like he does at the office but slightly nervous as he adjusted his tie mid stride.

“Happy Birthday y/n. You look—wow. You look beautiful.” He was holding a small gift bag.

“Thank you, Mr. Russo! Welcome to my party!” When you were nervous, you talked a little bit louder.

“Everything looks amazing, you put a lot of work into this didn’t you.” He wasn’t surprised, you always kept everything at the office running smoothly, why would this be any different?

Then you saw it, his neck tie. Black and burgundy with skulls all over it and the details covering the tie were beautiful. This is what he wanted to surprise you with.

“Mr. Rus—um, Billy—your tie! That’s what you didn’t want to show me last week, huh? And it matches my dress.” You ran your fingers from the knot to the bottom even though you probably shouldn’t have. He inhaled sharply and you felt heat rise to your cheeks. “It’s beautiful.” You paused, then added “and very rockstar! How did you know the color of my dress?”

Billy adjusted his mask, the cuffs on his shirt, and his watch. “Oh I didn’t, the colors on the invitation were similar so I think I just had that in mind.” It was quite the coincidence that your dress matched his tie exactly. Now he seemed really nervous, but Billy doesn’t get nervous. He was always so confident during meetings, walking around the office, giving people their jobs for the week—but you made him nervous. Why?

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed your grandmother waving at you to come over but you didn’t want to walk away from Billy quite yet. You knew if you didn’t go see her at that moment, you’d never hear the end of it. “Oh, I’m sorry Mr. Russo, my grandmother is waving me over, I’ll be right back. The bar is right there and Frank and Maria are…” you looked around to see if they were in the same place and they were still talking to your mother, so you pointed in their direction. “right over there. They’re talking to my mother and I really hope she’s not embarrassing me right now. I swear I’ll be right back.” And you hustled away to greet more guests.

During the course of the night, every time you tried to break free to try and talk to Billy, more and more people wanted to talk to you and tell you what a great party it was—you were the birthday girl after all so everyone wanted to talk to the guest of honor.

Sometimes you’d catch him looking at you, he’d quickly look away or start talking to Frank or someone else and it really did make you wonder if he had feelings for you. He was holding onto that small gift bag for dear life also, he brought it with him everywhere he went. What was in it?

After dinner was cleared, the lights went down and the DJ started playing all the music that you requested him to play. Your surprise to everyone at the party was there were karaoke battles between anyone and everyone who wanted to make fools of themselves in the name of fun.

You had managed to talk to Billy a little more while you were around Frank, Maria, and some of your coworkers from Anvil but you didn’t get to talk to him alone which is what you really wanted.

After a couple of group dances with some of your friends, a slower song started playing, Silver Springs by Fleetwood Mac. It’s one of your favorite songs and a guy that you work close with on projects asked you to dance, his name was Lucas and he’s incredibly sweet so you just couldn’t say no.

While you were dancing with him, you happened to have a direct view of Billy and Frank. It looked like they were having a serious conversation and it seemed Billy was getting more and more agitated.

Lucas was talking to you but you were barely paying attention when Billy handed Frank the gift bag and walked away. The song wasn’t over yet and you didn’t want to be rude and just leave in the middle so after the song was over, you thanked him for the dance and ran over to Frank.

“Hey Frank, where did Billy go?”

Frank gave you a concerned look. “Ah, yeah hey sweetheart—Bill, uh he left.”

“WHAT?!!” Your voice was louder than you intended it to be. “Frank, what do you mean he left? Why?”

Frank didn’t elaborate on why, he just said “I don’t wanna speak for him kid, but all I know is he wanted me to give you this.”

He slowly handed you the bag and with your hand shaking slightly, you took it from him. There was a little card inside so you reached inside to take it out, unfolded it and read it out loud.

I know this is going to sound cheesy but these don’t shine as brightly as you do. Happy Birthday. –Billy

You removed small black velvet box from the bag and saw the HW printed on the top—Harry Winston. A gasp escaped your lips at the very sight of the logo and your eyes immediately welled up with tears when you opened the box and saw a beautiful pair of round diamond studs inside.

Looking at Frank, you asked him sternly “Did you know about this, Frank?”

Frank pressed his lips together in a straight line, then smiled and answered you. “Look sweetheart, I knew about Bill having feelings for you but I didn’t know about this. I’m just gonna tell you one thing, I’ve never seen him look at any woman the way he looks at you. You do what you want with that.”

A tear fell out from the bottom of your mask, Frank took a cocktail napkin and dabbed your cheek and said “You like him too, don’t ya.” You nodded as you took the napkin from him and wiped your other cheek where the other tear fell. “Well go get him, kid—I’ll find Ginger and we’ll stall the cake, yeah?”

As soon as he said that, Ginger walked up behind you. “Find Ginger for what?”

Your eyes were still wet with tears when you told her “I gotta go find Billy.” And you started off towards the entrance to the ballroom when you heard her call out behind you.

“You’re gonna be unemployed after tonight!! I’ll be expecting you to put your application in on Monday!!!! And hurry up and smooch him or you’re gonna miss my rendition of I Wanna Dance with Somebody!!”

You didn’t even turn around, just smiled a little, waved, and exited the venue. Pulling the bottom of your dress up so you didn’t trip, you looked around in the long hallway but didn’t see him. Could he have really gotten that far?

Still holding the gift bag, you stepped out into the cool autumn air and looked to your left, he wasn’t there. You looked to the right and among the few people that were walking, you spotted him slowly walking and about to get into a town car. You called out after him and frantically waving your hands in the air.

“Mr. Russo!!! Mr. Russo!”

He didn’t hear you, so you tried again.

“BILLY!!!! WAIT!!!”

When he finally heard your voice, he stopped and looked in the direction of where your voice was coming from. Considering you were running in heels, you moved pretty quickly and when you finally caught up to him, there was only one word you managed to get out.

“Hi…” More than anything you wanted to say how much you loved the gift, you wanted to tell him you have feelings for him also but you were frozen.

Billy smiled warmly at you, his dark eyes reminded you of the way the ocean looked at night, deep and bottomless but alive at the same time.

His response was just like the greeting you gave him, short but sweet sounding. “Hi back…”

As the sounds of traffic and New York night life passed by, the two of you stood underneath a street lamp in silence for a moment, affectionately staring at each other, desperately trying to figure out what to say next.

A/N: I’d really like to do a part 2, let me know if you’d like a part 2, let’s get these two together!( I may do it anyway, we’ll see though)

Tag list: @mindidjarin @saintmurd0ck

If you’d like to be added to (or removed from) my tag list for the ever so handsome Billy Russo, just let me know and thank you again for reading! 💕

#billy russo x you #billy russo fanfic #billy russo x reader #billy russo #ben barnes #frank castle

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woolandcoffee · 1 year

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Hagging Out - December 2022/Porter's Possee Yuletide Edition

A little late with this one, but I had a lot of stuff to share! This Yuletide was both quiet and busy. It was the first Yule/Christmas season my partner and I spent in the house we bought in January 2022, which meant that we were also coming up on our first anniversary of living in the house and living with each other. So you might say a bit of celebration was in order.

The morning of the winter solstice, I rose early to watch the sunrise, as I have done for many solstices past. At the moment of sunrise, my red flametending candle was lit to represent the reborn sun. It sat on Brighid’s altar for the rest of the day so that the Mother could care for her babe. We also decorated the Christmas tree the day of the solstice (mostly because we had been too busy to do it earlier, although I don’t hate it as a tradition going forward).

The following day it snowed! Not as much as expected, but still. It also kicked off the two-week saga of our heater not working (this has been resolved thank goodness). Thankfully we were pretty warm that day, but there were several days when we had no heat all. Fortunately our house is well-insulated, we were provisioned with many blankets and wool sweaters, and I had already stocked up on everything we needed to make the wassail from Porter's Seasonal Celebrations. It goes wonderfully with sugar cookies.

Christmas Day our heater was out, but fortunately I did spend a good chunk of the day in the kitchen preparing our evening feast. From Porter's Seasonal Celebrations, I made the chestnut log cake and the Christmas ham which was glazed with the honey I blessed back at Midsummer. Along with those dishes we had mashed potatoes, a green bean casserole, glazed carrots, and homemade rolls. Both Porter's recipes were an absolute hit! The frosting on the chestnut log is possibly the best chocolate frosting I've ever made, and I will be using it again for other cakes. The only part of the recipe I struggled with was the chestnut puree that's meant to be incorporated into the filling for the cake. None of the grocery stores I went to carry it (unsurprising) so I made my own using chestnuts from the local co-op and a recipe I found online. I'm not at all convinced that I did it right and though it tasted well enough, there is absolutely room for improvement. But other than that, the cake was outstanding! The ham was similarly delicious, and likely to become a repeat. That honey glaze absolutely hits. Plus, the leftovers lasted for days.

My father sent us a package of Christmas crackers which were joyously opened and provided us with paper crowns to wear for the rest of the evening. All in all, a very good Yuletide season!

Thanks to @graveyarddirt and @portersposse for hosting!

#woolly rambles #a pretty picture #yuletide #hagging out #porter's possee

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elennare · 8 months

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Poetry-inspired flash-fic

It has been far too long since a. I posted here, b. I wrote fic, c. I did this fun little meme, so here I am again!

Rules 1: Pick five fandoms. List them in alphabetical order. 2: Visit this site to find your first RANDOM POEM OF POWER. Write down the 5th line (yes, even if it's an E.E. Cummings poem and you wind up with an apostrophe). Repeat five times and - you guessed it - list them in alphabetical order! (No cheating, mind! This is a challenge and it's always been about creativity.) 3: I think you can see where this is going. Write a very quick 50-word half-drabble for each fandom (try to do it all in one sitting), using the line from the poem as a prompt. You don't have to include it in the half-drabble - it's just inspiration. 4: Bravo! Have a cookie.

(I always forget to alphabetise the poems, I just take them in order - and I had to find another random poem generator, the old one was broken. This one is very Canadian, but it's the best I could find - suggestions for other ones welcome!)

Chalet School - informed crowded alloys detect no (Rita Wong, “fluorine” from forage) “I don't expect scientific brilliance from Corney and Co,” Nell Wilson assured the Staffroom. “But is basic coherency really too much to ask for?”

Hilda Annersley's eyebrows rose as she read some samples. “Leave them to me, Nell,” she replied, in a tone that boded no good for the miscreants.

High Rollers : Aerois - too large for this body. Too willing to (Joshua Jennifer Espinoza, "COMFORT" from There Should Be Flowers) It's not that Quill doesn't feel the lure of the spark of divinity. But it's too big, too powerful. What will he be if he takes it? Not an aarakocra any more, not really… will he even still be Quill? No. He'll stay mortal, stay with his friends, stay himself.

High Rollers: Curse of Strahd - “Forward, the Light Brigade! (The charge of the Light Brigade, Tennyson) Yesper hears stories, on his trips outside Barovia. Songs of glorious last stands, heroic charges, victories against seemingly insurmountable odds. He likes these tales, memorises them for the campfire. But he doesn’t believe them, not really… Maybe they’re true, maybe in Faerun they can be true, but not in Barovia.

The Left-Handed Booksellers of London - Forsaken by my parents (Alootook Ipellie, "Walking Both Sides of an Invisible Border," from Gathering: The En’owkin Journal of First North American Peoples: A Retrospective.) Vivien and Merlin rarely talk about their parents. What is there to say? Their father is birthday cards with dutiful invitations to visit Cambridge, that Vivien takes up occasionally and Merlin mostly avoids. Their mother is a case file Vivien doesn’t want to think about and Merlin can’t leave alone.

Swallows and Amazons - travels a direction it cannot find, (Kevin Irie's "Current") Susan peers blindly into the fog, trying to make out anything at all. Why did she let Titty and Roger go back by themselves? It’s all very well Nancy and Peggy saying they’ll have been back at camp for ages; Susan won’t be happy until she sees it for herself.

#fanfiction #chalet school #high rollers #the left-handed booksellers of london #swallows and amazons

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soranihimawari · 1 year

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Between Sweets & Coffee

Osamu learns how to help a rival next door.

Pairing: chef!osamu x cafe owner! reader

Warning: meet cutes//supposed rivals->lovers

Rating: MOF (miya osamu fluff)

“Maybe going door to door is a bad idea,” you’re on the phone with a benefactor for a new pastry shop. The grand opening is set for later this month with Valentine's Day around the corner. Considering you’re back home in Osaka and after months of trying to work with banks and investors for backing a pastry business in an already diverse culinary community was a bit tiresome, the fliers in your hands are proof that hard work does pay off.

Your co-owner is on the other line so you balance your phone on your shoulder and hear summer last minute pep-talk from them. The words of ‘your desserts are the best! don’t get too self-absorbed because I know your little bakery will do just fine.’

“Not if I’m competing with that hot chef across the street,” you sigh as your stuff fliers in the mailboxes at your apartment complex’s basement level. “Who has a line out the door for his Onigiri h o u r s before they’re open.”

Your friend reassures you you have nothing to worry about. After all, you think it might be time to give the chef across the street a good run for his money. Your friend laughs gently as you exasperatedly say you’re done with the stack. Bidding each other good night and heading home to relax before the grand opening tomorrow was all that remains. Hopefully the turn out will be great. Hopefully.

Granted, the official opening went as smooth as anyone who runs a business goes. Well, sort of smooth, a few bumps here and there because of the coffee machine not working properly, everyone in the small (six people deep queue) had enough time to drink some homemade drip coffee. Thankfully, these were the neighbors who seemed to have adored your charm and ambitious goals, who also were your first taste testers for those delightful checkerboard cookies that were on a special at the register. Surely there were some stragglers who chose to come in for a fresh cut baguette and fruit jam sandwich with some sinisterly righteous cup of chai tea later that mid-morning, but around two in the afternoon, as you bring out some other pistachio creme dessert, you see an odd sign on the onigiri restaurant across from you. The sign had been flipped to ‘closed’ and you didn’t know if it was just for lunch or why.

Apparently, the answer was right in front of you when you rose from the glass of your dessert display–he was tall, taller than you by like a foot or so, gray silvered hair peppered in with dark roots stare right at you. He has an onigiri embroidered shirt with the kanji of his name underneath it and he folded his arms over his chest. Your cashier just laughs nervously before waving for you to switch tasks at the moment. You lock eyes with the young lady as she scampers off with an empty baking tray to the back of the prep kitchen.

You’re behind the register, noticing the long line now forming behind said ‘hot chef’ from your phone call last night. The menu is next to the register and as you nervously intake a breath, you hear him chuckle a bit. He leans over the small counter space to whisper an, “Easy there dollface,” to you and you try not to lose your cool when you greet him with the spiel you perfected earlier that day.

“Welcome to Winter’s Cafe,” you smile at your first afternoon customer. “Now, what can I get brewing for you?”

The order he makes is a small, modest one: ham and cheese sandwich with a large coffee. He pays and takes his little number card to a table as the rest of the people he brought with him (his entire line cooks and cashiers) begin their orders. The cafe was decked out in a soft orange marble swirl, a paint job you helped design with an interior designer—your shop felt like a soda fountain from a classic Archie Comic he and his brother used to read. Along the walls where accolades would hang, one in particular stands out to Osamu: it’s framed in a shadow box and upon further inspection he notices there’s a whisk inside and next to that? A series of glass knives and cleavers pique his curiosity. He is amused and enthused at how you’re balancing all the hats of an entrepreneur too.

How did Miya Osamu, the ‘hot chef’ get here? Inside your restaurant?

… for that answer let’s go back to this morning when Miya Osamu is preparing his morning notes to give out to his staff. His coffee machine had finally breathed its last, so his cooks prayed their owner and restaurant head chef had some form of caffeine before the doors would open. Regardless, they did not get their wish though Osamu had gotten more than halfway through his notes as a reminder for the FIFO labels then he mentioned he’s closing the store earlier than normal today. It was not inspection time nor was it inventory night, as pointed out by his second lead cooks.

“There is a new cafe openin’ right ‘cross from us,” Osamu rubs his temples with a slight frown. He feigns doing just fine when he drinks his water from the glass he used earlier after prep was done. “We might lose some customers, so I figure we close early an’ see what these competitors be makin’.”

“Hai.”

The collective agreement caused your little cafe tables inside to be occupied a few hours later. As quickly as those orders came in, the first few batches of orders came out. You’re busy handing over the reigns of the register to your cashier as you read the first couple of orders aloud more so to yourself as you prepare the sandwiches amidst the sweet rolls being warmed and plated.

It is painfully obvious for a young entrepreneur to stand where you once stood as you flutter by dropping off orders left right and center. You’re efficient as all hell and when Osamu, your self-thought rival across the way, takes a bite into his sandwich, he’s immediately reminded of how his mother used to make these sometimes when he was four. The food is good, nostalgic even, as he sees his other employees unabashedly enjoy the plates you made, from the savory to the sublimely sweet. You’re only stopped a few times for his cooks to rave about your pistachio and chocolate-hazelnut croissants or your chai lattes. You bow saying how next time you’re thinking of making them into European dragons. The way his cooks’ eyes light up as if they’d order a whole half dozen has Osamu smiling into his cup. He might have to ask you to sneak some for him.

A steadier flow of customers come an hour or so later and though there are no bussers yet hired, Osamu on blind faith and a great cup of coffee now in his system, starts collecting all the dishes he and his employees had used. He doesn’t seem to be stopped by you, who now with an upturned smirk, tells him where the dish pit was in the back of the kitchen. His second and third cooks start cleaning the rest of the tables they had previously sat in as a silent, ‘thank you for the meal’ to you and your scrumptious food. Pretty soon, it was time to close your doors as well as you sit with your cashier at the booth at the end of the dessert case. You’re tallying up the first day’s riches around six in the afternoon before giving her a four percent cut of the total gross sales. It’s enough yen for her to finish paying off her culinary school semester.

“I’m going to need a really strong pastry intern this year, what do you say?” you offer as the cashier hugs you profusely thanking you for the opportunity. She goes and turns in her little time card to you for filing purposes; she exits with her bag slung over her shoulder whistling a happier tune when you catch a glimpse of her cousin waiting for her at the street corner by the combini store.

Considering how quiet the restaurant had become, Osamu comes out of the kitchen swinging doors, drying his hands and you, not realizing he was still there, you scream at his presence.

“Ack!! You’re still here!?”

“Yeah,” he chuckles as he sees you try to breathe normally. “Seemed like you needed a dishwasher tonight.”

He apologizes for giving you a fright, but you shake your head offering him a seat next to you.

“Well, it was the grand opening and I only had one cashier show up… did you put away everything where I can reach?”

Cloud gray eyes stare curiously at you as he ponders, he tells you to hold that thought as you hear some equipment making it to the prep table in the back. You laugh to yourself amused when he comes back out to talk for a little while. You’re going over the numbers of the day and it’s then that you deflate a bit after you sign and date the restaurant book.

“And what about the other cooks?” he sees ‘hire sous’ on your to-do list. “Don’t ya have any?”

“Believe it or not, it’s just me,” you smile. “These are family recipes I perfected before trying to commercialize them, so no. No other cooks until I can afford them. I’m practically broke even after this grand opening business.”

You half smile at the taller guy to your right, thanking him for telling his friends to come over to give you that afternoon boost. You curl a hand under your chin and look at the shadow box whisk.

“Want to hear how I got that whisk?”

And so you ramble off on a story of how your first culinary teacher was your elementary school’s lunch lady. When the lady retired when you were nineteen about to go off into the university of your choice, you were handed the whisk with the advice of, “even whipping cream needs a little time to breathe.” You confide in your unofficial dishwasher that for the life of you now you can’t tell if the lady was really sage or old age made her say some funky stuff.

It’s then when Osamu begins to take notice at how you look: you’ve got some dark circles forming under your eyes, your jeans looked well loved, but almost tattered, your best looking shirt is covered in ganache from this morning, and the dirt under your nails came from using the citrus zester for the lemon meringue cookies from two hours ago. You’re exhausted, probably by now, considering how creased your shoes are and for someone who just moved to Osaka, you looked..proud. Proud, according to his mother, is what she was of both of her children. Osamu is proud to be a chef just as much as his twin is proud of continuing to play volleyball.

“I know ya might think this is a bit too forward o’ me, but,” Osamu straightens up and turns a quarter of the way to shake your hand. “The name’s Miya Osamu.”

Taking his hand with a curt scoff before a more natural smile takes over your gorgeous face, “YLN,YN.”

He’s still holding your hand after you have shaken it, an idea bursts in his head. “Hey, YN, I know ya just got off yer shift, but would ya like to come over to my place for dinner? I heard there’s this onigiri guy across the street that makes some of the best in the city.”

You glance over his shoulder, read the neon lights of the name of the restaurant, then glance back at the eyes of the young man in front of you. You seemed to be the same age, yet you can’t for the life of you help what the masters of the red string of fate had pulled to get you and Osamu together like this. You’re smiling a bit though before you cheekily inquire if he’s asking as, “Miya Osamu,” or if he’s asking you as “Onigiri owner and head chef, Miya Osamu.” Both of which, you clarify, you do not mind, stating that for now, you’re only interested in simply Miya Osamu.

So, if you ever find yourself in the city of Osaka late in the afternoon, be sure you stop by Miya Onigiri if you’re looking for the best onigiri in town or take a break right across the street at Winter’s Cafe, where the cakes this season are literally a love story waiting to begin.

#🌻— flying around collecting pollen—queue #sora after hours #miya.o & reader #friends > lovers: miya osamu x yn #meet cute ideas with osamu

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golden-barnes · 3 years

Text

Plum tarts and red carnations

Pairing: Florist! Bucky Barnes x F! Reader

Summary: Bucky is enamored with one of the employees of the bakery in front of his store.

Category: Fluff

Warning:s some self-doubting thoughts and cursing .

Word count: 2.5k

Author’s note: I have been thinking about this since that one anon and thank you @buckycuddlebuddy because you helped to inspire me further with this. Also think of Bucky as Beefy because I'm a softy for a gentle giant. Comment and reblog pls and thank you!

“Damn Jerry. You’ve been growing nicely. A little bit more, and you will be ready to find a new home, bud.” Bucky whispered to the little sprout he was watering. Bucky loved his morning routine.

Before opening up his shop, he would check on his nursery. Water the plants in his greenhouse, checking them to see how they have grown. He liked talking to them; they never judged him or ignored him. He even named them. Sam would help, too, though he treated it more as a joke.

After checking on the nursery, he would focus on making bouquets and arrangements for the store. Nobody knew he was the one who made those beautiful arrangements, and he liked it.

It was like therapy for him. Matching the flowers and creating bouquets with meaning was a talent Bucky didn’t know he had. By this point, the shop was opened and ready for business.

While preparing a rose bouquet, he saw a woman in an apron running out of the new coffee shop from the table next to the cash register. Oh shit, she’s pretty. He thought. He kept staring at her and forgot the fresh roses next to him, grabbed one carelessly.

“Fuck.” He accidentally pricked his finger with a thorn. He applied pressure to his wounded finger.

“Oh, are you okay, sir?” The pretty woman from the bakery asked. Bucky didn’t notice her entering the shop, and now she was here. Looking disheveled but incredibly beautiful.

“Yeah, happens all the time. What can I help you with?” He said, trying to sound as composed as possible. He could hear Sam’s voice in his head. “Play it cool, Buck.”The woman let out a sigh.

“I’m co-owner of the coffee shop, and it’s our opening day. I was encharged of the decorations, and I ordered some flowers from this other place, but when they got here, they were horrible. Like really bad. And oh god, I’m rambling, but I need a brand new arrangement.” She said all in one breath. Bucky had to fight a smile from appearing. Adorable.

“It’s okay. What colors did you want?” Bucky asked. The woman smiled at him.

“We wanted white and purples. Something simple. But honestly, I know nothing of flowers. I don’t understand why Wanda put me up with this? Now we are late, and I still have to finish decorating the cupcakes.” She explained while Bucky started to search for the flowers in his shop.

“Lilacs, with white peonies and lavender roses, would make a nice bouquet. How does that sound?” Bucky showed her the flowers he was referring to. The woman gasped.

“Oh, they are so pretty! You, sir, are a genius.” She gushed, still looking at the flowers. Bucky felt his cheeks getting red from receiving praise.

“I can bring it to you,” Buckywhispered, afraid that she might not like that idea. “You know, because you still have some stuff to finish, so you can do it, and I’ll bring it to you in less than 10 minutes.” She looked at him and went to hug him. Bucky tensed, not expecting the hug, but soon relaxed.

“You are literally my hero. Just ask for Y/N,” She said, walking towards the exit. “Wait, what’s your name?” She added, opening the door to leave.

“Bucky.” Y/N smiled at him. “See you later, Bucky.”

Bucky has never worked on an arrangement as hard as this one. He was already meticulous, but he really wanted to impress Y/N. Can you blame him? The pretty girl needed his help, and he wanted her to be happy. He even added some baby’s breath and this new white ribbon that had come in for weddings. He was very proud of it but also very nervous.

With a deep breath, Bucky entered the coffee shop. A brunette was at the door, cleaning the tables.

“Sorry, Sir. We are still aren’t open.” She said. Bucky gulped.

“Uhm. I’m looking for Y/N.” He told her; she looked at the flowers in his hands and understood. She yelled for Y/N, who came out of the kitchen with icing on her check, giving him the brightest smile.

“Hey, Bucky! That’s beautiful! How did you make such a pretty arrangement in less than 20 minutes?” She grabbed the vase out of his hands and set it on the counter. Bucky blushed and scratched his neck, shying away.

“It’s nothing.. I’m just happy you liked it.”

“How much do I owe you?” She asked. Bucky put his hands up.

“Oh, it’s on the house. Don’t worry. Call it a welcome gift.” He explained; Y/N jumped and gave him another hug. This time Bucky wrapped his arms around her.

“You are the nicest person on this fucking planet. I have to make it up to you. What’s your favorite fruit?” She pulled away from him and looked at Bucky in the eye. Bucky felt his breath hitch, and his palms get sweaty.

“I-I like plums.” He stuttered. She gave him a big smile and handed him a cookie.

“Hmm, I can make something with that.” She winked at him.

“I still haven’t named you, but honestly, I don’t know. You look like a Janelle, but also, I feel like that doesn’t fit.” Bucky said to the new cactus that arrived yesterday, in the afternoon.

“I think she looks like a Lucille.” Bucky turned around and saw Y/N with a box in hand.

“Oh, hi.” He felt embarrassed. She had heard him talk to his plants. Not even Steve had seen that. It was his private thing.

“She’s cute. What type of cactus is it?” She looked at it, not looking weirded out or anything.

“It’s called a Bishop’s cap. They grow to be very pretty and sprout a yellow flower. Not very popular in the shop, but there’s this new cactus crazy going on, and I thought to stock up.” Bucky explained, putting the cactus down next to the others.

“Do you name all your plants?” Bucky gulped and turned around to face her.

“Yeah, and talk to them too.” Bucky fought the urge to punch himself. Why would he say that? Fuck, now she is gonna think he is a fucking weirdo.

Much to his surprise, she smiled at him. She suddenly remembered the box she brought and opened it.

“For saving me yesterday, I made you a plum tart.” She opened it and pulled out the tart. Bucky felt his heart beating faster, and his hands get clammy.

“You didn’t have to.” “Ah! I beg to differ. Everyone that walked into our shop loved the flowers. They were really something. Like I couldn’t stop looking at them. So I had to show you my gratitude the only way I know how. With treats.”

“I couldn’t possibly eat that all alone. Want to share?” Bucky asked, giving her puppy eyes so she wouldn’t say no.

“You drive a hard bargain, Bucky. Has anyone ever told you can get away with murder with those eyes?” Y/N joked.

“I think my grandma’ probably said it. I have some silverware in the shop’s kitchen. When you have to be at your shop?” Bucky said, signaling her to follow him.

“I’m on break—perks of being the boss.” She explained while Bucky grabbed a few paper plates, forks, and a knife. She grabbed the knife and cut a big piece, and gave it to Bucky. Then she cut a piece for herself.

Bucky took a bite and accidentally let out a moan.

“I take it; you like it.” She winked at Bucky. He diverted his gaze from her. Why the fuck did I do that? Bucky screamed internally.

“It’s delicious. I can see why your shop has been packed since yesterday. Reminds me of my ma’s.” Bucky admitted.

“I’m glad, but I can’t take all the credit. You should see the coffee mixes Wanda came up with. They are the real star.” Bucky smiled at her. Nice and pretty… She let out a cough.

“How did you get really good with plants? Like sorry for the personal question, but you have a talent.” She inquired.

“Well, uhm. After getting discharged, my friend Sam suggested that I take classes to handle stress and PTSD. One of the classes was gardening, and I just found it so calming. So I started taking more courses and learning ‘till I decided to start my own business. I don’t think I could ever work anywhere else.” Bucky noticed her staring at him. “What?” He said, smiling awkwardly at her.

“Nothing. Just thinking about how you are the nicest man I’ve ever meet.” She said nonchalantly. Bucky chuckled.

“It’s nothing major. I just found my calling.” Bucky stated.

“I feel the same. I baked a lot in college, and then suddenly I was like fuck, this is what I want to do for the rest of my life.” She recalled. Her eyes glowed under the light of the kitchen.

“I felt the same way when I started this shop.” Bucky admitted, she bit back a smile.

“By the way, I like the name—Howling’s flowers. Oh, and how pretty this store is, it looks like I walked in a magical forest.” She complimented.

“I- thanks. I named my store after my squad and the decor well; that’s kind of an embarrassing story.” Bucky chuckled nervously. She rolled her eyes.

“Oh, please. I own a coffee shop named Magic café, and all of our items are named after magical things. I am the last person to judge.” Bucky bit his lip nervously while listening to her.

“I based it on The Hobbit. It was my favorite book when I was younger, and I just couldn’t imagine decoring this store anyway else.” Y/N looked at him with an open mouth.

“Okay, are you government android? Because you are friendly, great with plants and well-read. You are too good to be true.” She laughed. Bucky needs to find a way to blush less in her presence because this is like the fourth or fifth time it has happened.

They finished eating their pieces of tart and talking for a while. Y/N decided to go back to the shop, not realizing how much time she spent there. Before leaving, Bucky gave her some more lavender roses.

“Oh, Bucky, you don’t have to.” She protested.

“It’s just to add to the arrangement. I feel like it was missing a few more roses. You’ll be doing me a favor.” He assured. She grabbed the flowers and smelt them before smiling and giving him a small thanks.

Little did she know that lavender Roses mean love at first sight.

They played that little game for weeks, almost 2 months. Y/N would take her lunch break at Bucky’s shop. Feed him some food and pastries that she was experimenting with, and he would give her flowers.

“To put on the counter. Your store deserves fresh flowers every day.” Bucky claimed. But in actuality, all the flowers meant something. The white camellias? He was telling her that he admired her. The amaryllis? That he found you beautiful. The white and purple stocks? A silent plea for bonds of affection from your part. But he couldn’t bring himself to say these things out loud.

Speaking to Y/N in flowers was much easier. Maybe because she didn’t know and couldn’t reject him.

“Bucky, you gotta tell her, man.” Steve would try to reason with him. “She likes you; you like her. Just tell her that you like her or ask her out on a date.”

“You don’t get it, Steve.” Bucky would argue, which led to an entire discussion on how Bucky is being a coward that ended with him telling Steve and Sam to fuck off.

But they were right; it was simple. She has been an absolute doll with him. She doesn’t mind hearing his rants about the new book he read and helped him water his plants. She even bought waterproof labels to put their names on their planters. She even asked (more like demanded) Bucky to send her the pictures of every bouquet and arrangement he made. She loved seen his creations.

And he loved being her test subject. She would bring him new pastries to try. He was her official taste tester. Anything new in the store, Bucky had already tried it in every one of its variations. Y/N would speak to him of all of her special interests and all of her new hobbies. He had even met all her friends, and they loved him.

So why was this so difficult? Bucky groaned while arranging the flowers at the front of the shop.

“What’s got you all groaning and gloomy, Bucky-bear?” Y/N asked him. She looked radiant in her work clothes. Ugh, Bucky had it bad.

“Nothing, j-just thinking.” He nervously replied.

“Don’t overthink. You might over-heat your brain, bubs.” She joked, entering Bucky’s shop. And like the hopeless romantic he is, he followed.

“Soooooooo I have been trying out this new pasta recipe, and you are the only one I trust to give me the truth.” She said, opening the Tupperware she brought. Bucky’s heart fluttered at her words. He felt light-headed; maybe that’s why he couldn’t stop himself from opening his mouth.

“I like you.” He blurted out. He slapped his hand over his mouth. Y/N turned to him, widen eyes, and mouth gaped.

“Bucky, do you mean that? Because if you are playing with me, I will fight you with this.” She warned Bucky, threatening with a spoon.

“I like you a lot. Actually love you. I- that’s what those flowers meant.” Bucky explained. Y/N put down the spoon.

“What flowers?” She asked, in the softest tone he has ever heard her speak in. Bucky turned his gaze to the floor, embarrassed that this was his confession.

“All of them. They all meant love in one form or the other.” He admitted. Y/N stood in front of him and put her hand on his cheek. He felt his heart do backflips.

“What flower means I’m in love with you, Bucky?” She asked, caressing his cheek.

“Maybe red carnations.” He joked, leaning into her touch.

“I’ll ask this handsome florist with a heart of gold to make me a bouquet to give you.” Bucky chuckled while she let out a little giggle.

“I would love a bouquet, but I would much rather have a plum tart from the sexy baker on the store out front.” Y/N hummed.

“I think I can make that happen.” She said, pulling him closer. “Can I kiss you, Bucky?” She asked; Bucky could only nod.

She grabbed his face and pressed her lips against his. Bucky wrapped his arms around her, pulling her even closer, molding her body against him. Their lips gliding over each other smoothly, as if they were made for each other.

They pulled away to take a breath, and they both had the same dopey smile. Tarts and carnations. Who knew they mixed so well?

#bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you

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oneoftheprettynerds · 3 years

Text

Misplaced Theatrics: Dark! Chris Evans x Reader

A/N: Hi lovely people! Surprise! I know I said no fics till July but my exam dates literally shifted the next day lol. My most important paper is still scheduled to be on 1st August but hopefully it will shift too. Until that happens, my June and July are still scheduled to be super busy but I’ll try to update LaCs and also share this brand new series I’m in love with! Meanwhile take care cookies, I’m sorry I have a tendency to ramble. Also this my first time writing RPF so be kind.

Warning: Non-Con, RPF, Breaking and Entering. IF THIS OFFENDS YOU, DO NOT ENGAGE.

Genres + Characters: Acting AU/RPF.

Summary: You realise too late that the lines between acting and reality have blurred between you and your co-star.

Word count: 3.5K

Another bouquet of roses, another bunch of stuffed animals, a sweatshirt, one of his sweatshirts that he had been seen wearing in public all the time. Your eyes scrunched as you found a mauve velvet box this time, eyes widening at the brand’s name, Tiffany and Co.

You opened the box, your eyes finding the most gorgeous piece of jewelry you’ve ever laid eyes on, perhaps the most expensive one too; a necklace laced with diamonds, both white and blue.

This was too much.

Emptying the entire box, you kept the articles aside and folded the box so it occupied less space and slid it over one of the cabinets. You knew the pap outside had stopped the delivery chap and was now bombarding him with questions which he’d so happily answer. The sender and the contents and whatnot.

This was a PR stunt after all, a means to promote your movie.

You were starring in the upcoming movie, “Secret of the College Dorm” with the one and only Chris Evans, both of you the protagnists. Being relatively new, you were excited to make your debut with the talented artist and to be in a movie whose storyline you actually liked.

For the plot, you were both University students whose worlds collided when your common tormentor, his douchebag competitor and your sexually frustrated, not-so-secret admirer committed suicide. The whole campus fell for the staged letter and crime scene but not you two who somehow came together and solved the mystery but not without romance blossoming between you two.

You had refused to do any nude scenes for the relationship development scenes, aware of the never-ending repercussions of the internet, especially for a female. However, the plot the audience would require the steamy romance and so, there was really heavy making-out and under the sheets stuff between you and Evans, a lot of it actually.

Evans was such a good actor and you swore he got lost in the feels, in the moment so very often that you might have believed him to be your lover from the third person’s POV if you didn’t know the truth yourself. A little harmless touching even went under the sheets, off camera but it was all acting, right?

However, with each new release of a still of the steamy scenes, the media went outrageous. And when a behind the scenes photo of him blowing air into your burning eyes went viral, the people went crazy over the photo that looked like a kiss to your forehead when taken from behind him and without any context. The support for the beloved actor’s love life was overwhelming, and despite the hate some people had to give, you were actually surprised by the appreciation of his large fan base. However, you had to correct the media and every attempt of yours to do so was seen as deflection to avoid questions about the relationship.

Your worry about the issue which surprisingly did not bother Chris, was solved by your director who told you to go along with it and use it as an advertising tool, about how people and the critics actually loved to see established couples in romance movies, how people could feel the chemistry through the screen. When he argued that your acting was off-the-charts and so unbelievably real, you gave in to both the men, mind a stuttering mess.

Chris was built like a Greek God, had the manners of one and was so supportive the entire time. Hearing praise from such an esteemed artist made your mind go haywire, and the fact you got such a beautiful and charming man as your make -believe boyfriend was cherry on top. You see, you had to give in when this polite hunk of muscle asked.

Then began the media spotting and some PDA; you didn’t overfeed the media with content, just enough that it was believable and how you were just being caught off-guard every time.

Chris loved to spoil you with gifts and dates and you were worried about the lengths he went to and how much money he spent for a PR stunt. Dare you say, you felt slightly jealous of his future significant other. If he crossed oceans just for you, he might travel through planets for them.

But this is where you drew the line. Getting gifts from him was one thing, it was another thing to get presents as expensive as fourteen times your housekeeper’s salary. Diamonds? Diamonds? You surely weren’t worth that, the movie might not even be worth that.

Making note of giving the expensive piece of jewelry back to him at one of your next interviews, you took your phone and dialed his number to thank him and scold him as well. As you mindlessly hummed and put things to their places, you could hear the soothing tune of Chris's ringtone, as if it came from up the stairs, faint but present. You shook your head and it stopped, making you question if you had been spending too much time with the handsome man.

Pulling you out of your reverie, he picked up and greeted you sarcastically as he always did, “How's my ‘girlfriend’ doing today?” You could picture him smiling at the other end, probably playing with Dodger.

“I’m doing alright. Just received your package, that’s all.”

“I know. And?” You could again picture his eyebrows raised in question, awaiting a thanks he would never accept.

“You know?” Your eyebrows furrowed.

“Yes darling, I know what time the delivery was supposed to reach. And you called me immediately after, didn’t you? Interesting.” The smugness in his voice made your cheeks heat as you stuttered over your next set of words. A lot of the times when he did things like these, you wondered if he knew of your attraction to him or If your attraction was reciprocated.

“It isn’t like I just sit ready to talk to you, you goofball! I-I am sort of bound to when, when you keep sending me these expensive gifts. We agreed Chris, no more extravagance. You honestly do more than what’s required already.” You sighed, hoping you’d get your point across the gold-hearted prankster.

“Is it so wrong to want the absolute best for my best girl?” Your heart skipped a beat at ‘his best girl’, the sincerity in his voice making your heart ache for something that wasn’t there, almost believing his genuineness for affection.

You sighed and answered after gathering your wits, “But I’m not your best girl, am I?”

His release of breath could easily be misinterpreted as longing if you weren’t sure that you had made the atmosphere gauche. The absolute silence for 30 seconds made you reflect on what you said, if you had offended him. Not wanting things to end awkwardly, you continued, “I’m bringing the necklace back to you at the next conference, it might be costlier than my house Evans! And that’s final.” You chuckled and he hummed slightly as well and you took that as your cue to end the call.

“Okay I need to shower, talk to you tomorrow and pet Dodger for me, will you?” You cut the call with that, and made you way upstairs to your bedroom, overthinking the entire way there as you did.

There’s no way he’s interested in you, is he? And why would you even wonder that. You just had an immature crush on the guy, that too because you associated intimacy with feelings and this being your first time acting. You convinced yourself that everything will be the same when you returned to the conferences, your friendship dynamics still the same and ever nasty.

You reached your room, put your playlist on shuffle and sang your worries away. Seriously, people who didn’t have a concert in the shower were psychopaths.

The hot shower relaxed your muscles and after putting your silk bathrobe on, switching the songs off and applying creams, you moved outside. You were definitely new to skincare, doing it on demand of your make-up artist now.

You stopped dead in your tracks as you saw an all too familiar face sitting on your king size bed, his eyes ever so blue and skin ever so smooth.

Seeing Chris, you squealed, your hand immediately going to your heart. Embarrassment came later, first came suspicion. Your mind still grasping seeing your coworker in your house, in your room, in your bed, uninvited. You didn’t bid him inside the main door, how was he inside?

You believed Chris was a nice guy, yet doubt filled your head. You couldn’t blatantly ignore the creepiness of the situation. How was one supposed to handle a situation such as this?

“Hey honey, you sure do take your sweet time in the shower.” He chuckled, his boisterous laugh in heavy in the otherwise silent air.

“Chris, what are you doing here? How did you get in?” You inquired; your face serious as your hands crossed over your cleavage.

“Well, we are ‘dating’ aren’t we? The media needs to believe the story we are selling. It’s only normal I drop by here sometimes.” He used air-quotes, still not seeing his erroneous ways.

“Chris, I didn’t give you a key. How are you inside? You need to get out.”

“You seriously think I’d not have a key to my girlfriend’s house?” He looked offended, but still joyful to say the least.

“You have a key to my house?! I never gave you one! You of all people know we aren’t actually dating, this excuse is bullshit and this, this is highly inappropriate, I suggest you leave. You are making me uncomfortable.” You stared the man down, agitated by his antics and still perplexed what to make of this situation. What was even happening?

Before you could even register, your back slammed to the wall near the bathroom door, Chris’s bulky biceps delivering force to his palms that held you there. You had never been on the receiving end of his strength and you could feel it bruising.

“What the fu-”

“I didn’t like the tone you just used, wanna try again?”

“This isn’t funny Evans. If this is one of your pranks, stop! I’m calling security otherwise.”

The menace in your glare was countered by sheer mischievousness in his blue orbs. “I’ve already dismissed them for the night. They know I’m here and how I don’t plant to leave until tomorrow. They were more than happy to give the ‘star’ couple some privacy.” He wiggled his eyebrows and you grew stiff, were you in a bad dream? This wasn’t really happening, was it? A guy you adored and respected, assaulting your boundaries and maybe you as well. You shook your head at that, scared shitless.

“Chris, you are hurting me. Please stop and we can talk it out. I’m scared.” You confessed honestly, a part of you, an infinitesimal part of you hoping it was a prank. However, his grip didn’t relent, rather it tightened holding your shoulders captive.

“And what about how you hurt me?” His hand went to pocket to take out the necklace you put maybe an hour ago into its velvet box. The diamonds shone even more brightly than they did downstairs; the sapphire of his eyes sparkly as dazzlingly and blazingly as the blue of the diamonds.

Your mind was slow to register the fact that he had been long enough in the house to find that, maybe even longer if he had himself witnessed you put that away.

“My sister helped me pick it out.” He grinned at the mention of his family but it was soon replaced by a scowl when he looked at you. “And you showed such blatant disrespect to it, kinda offensive you know?”

“I’m sorry Chris, I didn’t know. Is that why you are mad?” You couldn’t for the life of you grasp his sudden change in demeanor. The golden retriever for whatever reason had turned into an aggressive pit bull.

Had this provoked him? It was still no excuse for the lengths he was going to, the boundaries he was imposing.

“Well, part of the reason, yes. Why don’t you wear it?” His eyes showed hopefulness, maybe glee? Had he always been this deranged and you this oblivious?

His grip intensified and you shrieked out. “Okay, okay! Can you allow me some time and space to change, please? I don’t think I-”

He slammed you again, not enough to hurt but sufficient to shut you up and growled out, “Now. And I mean it. Turn around.”

You whimpered and tuned around, Chris’s hands snaking around and clasping the string of overpriced jewels at the nape of your neck. He rotated you back to face him, his sapphire eyes lighting up akin to the diamonds.

“See, so pretty.” You eyed his hands toying with the gems and his lips caught you off-guard. Kissing his velvety soft blush pink lips was different today; the emotions you always felt even while being into character were intensified tenfold this time. There was passion, frustration and dare you say, even affection. Was paparazzi outside?

You groaned and turned your face away, done with the kiss but he wasn’t. Soft kisses were placed soothingly on your neck, the collarbone and then the top of your breasts. You jerked in his grip and pushed him away; the immediacy caught him off guard as he stumbled and you made your way to the door.

Unfortunately, luck wasn’t on your side, his hands pulling at your bathrobe and sending you bouncing on your bed, face first. He was quick to straddle you, his hands pining your wrist as you cried out.

“You were doing so good, sweetheart, why did you ruin it?”

“Chris, stop. You are hurting me-”

“Shhh, you are making no sense, honey, blabbering like this. You know that we belong together, our directors knew that and now I made sure even the world knows that.”

“You are delusional! It was fake, al-”

“You are lying to yourself if you didn’t feel the sparks when we kissed. I fell for you on the set, hard, and you are lying if you disagree.” His insanity, his assurance and his acceptance scared you and rightfully so. Chris was an affluent man, wealthy and had the world at his feet. If he really wanted to hurt you bad, he could. Although bidding his love wasn’t something you planned on doing, you knew that if push came to shove, it would be the better way out.

He turned you around, his beefy hand still holding your wrists as his other hand opened your already slipping bathrobe. His azure eyes drank your glowing skin in, moisturized and smooth; his free hand groping your fleshy arcs. He leaned to take one of your nipples in his mouth, suckling and biting like a little toddler.

His hand slid down and reached your warm heat, your skin supple and your folds fleshy. He pressed down on the bud there, you jolted and your back involuntarily arched.

“If I knew you this underneath back on the set, my hands would have ventured further under the sheets.” His skilled fingers circled your clit, and as you grew damp, two entered your cavern, prodding at angles and points you had failed to find yourself countless times.

Your protests came out as whimpers, eyes glistening with tears at the pleasure you were being enforced to, your mind mushy and thoughts a mess. You were inexperienced in the bed department, a sheer amateur in comparison to the sculpted man, who commanded your bliss in ways you could only hope.

His lips left no skin on your torso unkissed, and his soft bites and nibbling someone were aimed just right in amplifying every stroke of his fingers. Your hands twisted and body arched even more as you neared your cliff, the waterfall of ecstasy just below. As you rode out the blissful journey, his fingers didn’t cease even once, burrowing themselves in the tight heat pushing you.

As you came out and about, your struggles ceased, the orgasm washing over and tiring out your limbs in the process. Your eyes traced Chris’s wicked eyes and his sculpted cheekbones that gave way to his smirking pink lips. This would have been your best experience in intimacy if it was not forced on you.

“Having fun, aren’t you baby?” Your hands jerked again, itching to slap the bastard but your unexpected abruptness was unable to overpower his brawns.

“I’ve never seen you this frantic, kinda hot honestly.” His lips descended on yours again and there was a new fire to this caress, a new appreciation in every movement. You hated the way you were able to read him, the numerous nights you spent drunk together watching Youtube a bittersweet memory now. It was an irony in itself, knowing him well to read him but not enough to have avoided this.

You thrashed, your head trying to headbutt his but it was shameful how your entire was overpowered by half his strength. The jingling of a belt buckle, his belt buckle opening made your eyes widen more, your face becoming wet with tears again real fast.

“No Chris, don’t do this. You need to stop, I can’t-” You cried out, determined to stop his actions but got silenced just as quickly by the intrusion in your worked pussy.

Your fingers curled into your palms, the slightly overgrown nails leaving crescent marks there as his length split you apart inch by inch. The pain and the leisure provided by his still cock rivaled any other sexual experienced you had had, your eyes bleary and red and mind incapable of thinking. The deed was done, it could now not be undid.

He left kisses in the column of your neck, soothing you as your walls snuggled him close. He started moving again with praises leaving his lips every thrust, the pace increasing periodically. You resisted the onslaught of excitement they brought but were ultimately defeated when his cock hit all the spots his fingers had nudged minutes ago. Each snap of his made you putty in his hands as you literally lost your composure, being pushed towards the dangerous cliff again.

His hands left yours and instead cradled your face as he kissed the ever-loving fuck out of you, a kiss that left your breathless and incapable of coherent thought when coupled with his thrusts hitting you just right. You bit down on his luscious lips as you tumbled down the peak, your core clenching around him in a similar way. Chris swore it was the best feeling ever.

With your body fatigued perfectly beneath his, you both knew he wasn’t far anymore. Your heavy breathing brushing your chest against his and your dazed eyes staring into his only prompted him more, his orbs never leaving your face, relishing in your beauty as emotions drowned him. He couldn’t believe you were finally his, that this moment existed in the sphere of reality. The longing and yearning in his azure eyes scared you, this was definitely no act he was putting on.

As his thrusts became slower, your exhausted mind realized something. “Chris, not inside, please! I’m not on anything! Please!”

You feebly pushed him, that doing absolutely nothing to deter him and soon after you felt warmth coating your inside, his seed also smothering out the fire in the pit of your belly. You hated the way you kept crying, as if the tears would sojourn your helplessness. His nose skimming your neck and inhaling your sent made you close your eyes; your distraught self having no strength to face your assaulter, a former confidante of yours.

You could feel his stare burning your skin but you refused to glance at him, give him any sense of acknowledgement. You only opened your eyes when you felt something on your fingers as he took your hands from between you both.

“It is only fair if the set is complete.” Your heart ached at the smile on his face; how could the Gods let such a flawed man have a flawless face? His eyes twinkled as he stared adoringly between you both and your eyes trailed down to find a huge diamond ring on your finger. The hoop matched the necklace you wore on your otherwise naked body, the white diamonds surrounding a beautiful blue one in the middle, its shine complementing Chris’s eyes.

“Chris, I hate you! You’ve gone mad.” You sobbed loudly as he cradled you, a quite ‘why me?’ escaping your lips which surprisingly Chris heard and chose to answer.

“Because it’s time for me to settle down, time for us.” He smiled staring into your soul as you hiccupped, body sweaty and tired and sticky. He intertwined both your hands together and kissed your knuckles lovingly.

“Besides didn’t you see my last interview; Chris wants to be daddy.” His voiced dropped and so did your non existent panties hope.

+ BONUS

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HKRwg9M3vkA

#chris evans x reader #dark!chris evans #dark!chris #chrisevans x reader #dark! chris evans x reader #dark!chris evans x reader #chris evans rpf #dark chris evans rpf #ray writes #dark fic #marvel fic

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shorkbrian · 3 years

Note

Okay so pro hero kiri has this big fat crush on his co worker! Reader who unintentionally rejecting his moves on her because she is so shy and awkward but slowly she shown some signs that she is into him so he changes tactics and acts more romantic which adds bonus points once he sees her blush when she reads the note attached to a deep red rose! fast forward to a couple of months of pinning and he is getting very frustrated especially with her enticing soft curves of her body so (1/2) 🌠 anon

oof okay listen!!!! open ur ears!!! I have something to say

(Warnings - stalking, Somnophilia, dubcon, NSFW, unsafe sex, blood from a bite wound but it’s very brief lol)

You’re a little paper pusher at his agency, you barely even interact with the big man, but he always makes time to swing by your desk and chat for a bit before he heads home.

Unfortunately, you’re about as smooth as a piece of burnt toast. His casual flirting goes right over your head, and you keep rejecting his advances and it’s so fucking frustrating. Can’t you see how hard he’s fallen for you? Kiri doesn’t understand why you look away whenever he bends down to rest his elbows on your desk, giving you the perfect view down his shirt to see his fat pecs (the man knows he’s got a banging’ body okay). He doesn’t get why you shy away from his touch when he tries to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

Kirishima can’t comprehend why you always turn him down when he mentions going out with you and some other co-workers (to make you feel more at-ease, he knows he can be intimidating) for drinks or a bite to eat.

He’s stressed - the man really wants to get to know you, but it’s like you’re completely oblivious to his intentions. He’s pretty sure you just see him as a goofy extroverted coworker that loves people. After all, he does stop and say hi to several other people every day as he makes his way over to your desk.

So Kirishima decides to up his game. Starts making his feelings obvious. He gets more touchy, perching on your desk to reach and rub your shoulders, laughing at your jokes and (gently) smacking a hand against your leg like a giggly schoolgirl. He talks about his workout routine and asks you if you think his muscles have been getting bigger. Could you check? Just with a hand around his bicep of course.

He buys a few gifts here and there; a cup of coffee for you with his number on the lid, a new pen when he noticed your favorite one broke, cute socks because he’s seen you wearing cute ones before, and he saw them and thought of you.

Each and every gift is accepted with the biggest blush he’s ever seen. You turn beet red, flush stretching down your neck and disappearing underneath your shirt. Kirishima chides himself for wanting to see how far the flush went, for wanting to rip off your shirt and bend you over right here and now.

But he didn’t like you just for your body, and he was willing to wait.

Kirishima feels emboldened by the success of his other gifts, so he decides to write out his feeling in a note, get you a bunch of flowers, and present them to you Friday night. That way, you’d have time to think things over and process your own feelings before you saw Kiri again on Monday. To him, it seemed like the perfect plan.

And god, you were so cute when he gave you the flowers, he wanted to kiss you on the nose and then taste your lips, right then and there.

But he didn’t.

He gave you a soft pat on the back before walking away. He was around the corner before he heard you gasp, which immediately made him backtrack and peek his head out so he could see you. Was it a good gasp? Or a bad gasp?

You had a little smile on your face, eyes twinkling as you read the note.

Kirishima pumped his fist, heart soaring. He finally got through to you.

Except he hadn’t.

On Monday, you didn’t say anything to him, hardly even looked at him. When he came by your desk to ask what you thought of the note, all he got was a fierce blush and mumbled sentences, before you bolted off to the bathroom.

It’s like he was back at square one.

It made Kirishima feel... inadequate. His old middle-school insecurities came creeping back into his life. Was he not good enough? Was he just too boring and dull and you didn’t know how to tell him without hurting his feelings? What was wrong with him?

But he was an adult now, he could handle rejection.

The thing is, you weren’t rejecting him.

You baked him cookies, dropping them off in his office while he was out, but they had your name on them and the most adorable little note, and Kirishima’s heart almost exploded. Plus, they tasted delicious.

He got a text from you one night, a cute picture of a spiky red dog and a “this reminded me of you... Sleep well! <3″ and he spent the rest of the night imagining your wedding.

You kept showing signs that you were interested, yet you wouldn’t even look at him in person. Kirishima concluded that you were just too shy.

That was okay. He realized that the more time he gave you, the more you opened up to him. Maybe in a few months, the two of you could go on a date or something!

In the meantime, the man liked to check up on you, make sure you were safe. He was invested in you now, subtly following you home some nights to make sure nobody looked at you wrong.

He broke into your apartment quite often, but it was entirely justifiable! He wasn’t being a creep (okay, well, maybe just a little), he was just being a good friend, a good coworker. He had to make sure everything was safe, that no one could get in (other than him), that you hadn’t left a candle burning or the stove going.

You slept like a rock, staying asleep even when Kirishima accidentally knocked a cup off your counter and broke it. To his surprise, there was no awakening, no screaming, yelling for him to get out or that he was a weirdo. Just you, snoring in your bed, a tiny bit of drool at the side of your mouth.

It was such a domestic scene, it warmed Kiri’s heart.

Sometimes the man liked to slip into bed beside you, frame creaking under his weight. It was a tight squeeze-he was a large man and your bed was made for one (1) person, but Kirishima didn’t mind. It just meant he got to press close to you, feel the warmth of your smaller body, hear your quite little huffs and snores and mumbles as you slept.

He let himself relax, sink into the mattress. The next time he crawled into your bed, he let himself wrap an arm around you. The time after that, Kirishima felt brave enough to scooch under the covers, squeezing his eyes shut tight as he found that your pajamas consisted of a giant shirt and panties.

Bare legs.

Glad that he wasn’t a teenager anymore, he didn’t have to worry about cumming in his pants. Still, he found himself leaving your apartment with a chubbed-up cock more often than not.

You were just so soft. He wanted to touch all of you, to lick all over and get your plush flesh in-between his teeth. He wanted to bite into your shoulders as he fucked you into the mattress, pumping you with load after load of cum, until your stomach was swollen and you cried because you felt sick.

But Kirishima also wanted to hold you close, take showers together and wash your hair for you, make coffee in the morning and talk about last night’s episode of “Chopped”. He wanted to give you sappy smooches before getting to work, make you laugh with goofy jokes and give you hugs, pick you up and twirl you around whenever he saw you after being apart, no matter if it were days or minutes.

The nasty, dirty thoughts warred with the soft, gentle ones. Sometimes they mixed, Kirishima daydreaming of sweet, romantic sex.

He just wanted you so bad.

One night, he’s crawled into bed with you like usual, rubbing a sock-clad foot over your bare legs, pressing chaste little kisses to the top of your head as he draws you into his arms. It was nigh impossible to wake you, so he felt no fear or apprehension in taking such bold actions.

Shuffling in your sleep, you throw a leg over his hip, snuggling deeper into the solid warmth that is his body. Kiri sighs, contented.

And then you start making noises.

Little huffs of breath, tiny whimpers, and when Kirishima looks down, your eyebrows are drawn up. You twitch against him, against the thick thigh that you had slung your leg over, and then repeat the motion.

You’re.... You’re having a wet dream.

Kirishima lets out a shaky breath, trying to focus so he doesn’t crush your arm with his excited grip. You’re rutting against him steadily now, dragging your damp cunt against his leg, sighing at the friction, lips parted.

His cock is rapidly hardening, and he wants to rub himself against your stomach, feel the cling of his shirt as he rucks it up with his rhythmic humping. But he doesn’t.

He’s a gentleman, he wouldn’t take advantage of you like that. You’re just having an unconscious reaction to a man being in your bed. Maybe further down the road, when he’s taken you on many romance-filled dates, then he can lay you down and whisper into your ear how much he loves you while the two of you make love.

The man is so taken with that fantasy that he almost misses the gentle gasp of a name falling from your lips.

But he didn’t, because it was his name.

A shiver ran through him; excitement? fear of you waking up? He didn’t know. When he checked your face, you were still asleep, letting out those little whimpers and moaning his name quietly.

God was real.

God was real, and he had made angels, and you were one of them.

And lord forgive him, because Kirishima was about to sin.

How could he hold himself back? You were humping his leg, moaning his name and panting, in your sleep. You wanted him, you were just too shy to initiate or accept Kiri’s advances.

Theres no way he’s holding himself back.

Covers are thrown off, Kirishima quickly detaching from you (oh how he missed your warmth immediately) to shuck off his clothes, almost falling on his face as he ripped off his socks.

Then he’s looming over you, quickly pulling up your shirt, lifting your head gently, guiding your arms out. Your panties came off next, slid down your legs with shaky, excited hands.

Kirishima wanted to worship you. You were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, laid there on the bed, whining in your sleep for him, thighs rubbing together. He felt himself salivating, jaw itching to open and clamp down, to eat you whole. He wanted all of you.

Climbing back on the bed, Kiri pumped his cock a few times, precum flowing from the tip helping to smooth the way. He was going to fuck you now.

No preamble, the man just spread your legs, settling between them. A quick rub of your pussy with his fingers had him finding it already drenched, and he groaned quietly, the hand around his cock moving faster.

He shifted back slightly, only far enough to lift your legs, pressing your thighs up and back towards your chest. Your breathing changed slightly, but Kirishima wasn’t paying attention to that now. He didn’t care if you woke up now, you had just been dreaming about him. He was your wet dream come true, you’d surely appreciate how good he was about to make you feel.

Lining up was a bit more difficult than Kirishima was used to - he’d never been this excited to fuck someone in his life, hands trembling, heart beating out of his chest, sweat slicking his skin. But then the tip of his fat cock slipped inside, stretching you open, and all was right in the world for Kirishima.

He wanted to slam home, to push and push until he was balls deep and his tip was kissing your cervix. But he held himself back - he hadn’t stretched you, and he didn’t like the idea of hurting you in that way, he wanted your first time with him to feel good.

So he went slow, pushing inside an inch, waiting. Pushing another inch, then waiting. Waiting waiting waiting, he almost couldn’t rein in his desires. But he did, for you.

“Kiri?” You mumbled, eyes fluttering open. Kirishima wasn’t expecting you to speak so clearly, hips jumping forward, seating himself the rest of the way inside your heavenly warmth as the man swore.

“Kiri?” Clearer now, with a hint of panic. Kirishima looked up, and you were fully awake now, looking at the man with wide eyes.

“Hey baby.” He whispered, smiling gently. Your hands rose, one resting against his bicep, the other settling on his chest, and he shivered at your touch, at the feel of your tiny little hands on his flesh.

“What’s-? When did you....?” It was so cute, the confused scrunch of your face. You were still fighting the mist of sleep, blinking owlishly up at the man on top of you. Fear hadn’t kicked in, although it was simmering underneath the surface.

“Hey, shhh. Don’t worry, I’m here. Gonna make you feel the best, you’re my pretty little girl, know that? I’ve been waiting so long for you.” He whispered, swooping down for a gentle kiss.

You didn’t fight him, just accepted the lips pressing against yours with confusion. It probably felt like you were still in a dream, hazy and relaxed.

Kirishima couldn’t wait anymore, his cock was throbbing, your insides were molten and he felt like he was going to explode. He wanted, no, needed to move.

His first thrust was small, just a quick schlick out, and the same noise when he pushed back in. You were sopping wet, and the slide made it easy for him to move. Even more proof that you wanted this.

You gasped, eyes fluttering closed as you pulled away from the kiss. Kiri huffed out a joyful, breathless laugh as he thrusted again, sparks of pleasure lighting up in his gut.

“Mm, Kiri wait-” You moaned, nails digging into his bicep and chest. Kirishima ignored you, speeding up, trying to angle his hips to find your sweet spot. One of his hands held your hip, the other brushing your hair out of your eyes as he cooed at you. “Pretty baby, my beautiful girl. You’re making me feel amazing, love you so much. Feeling good? I can feel you trying to milk my cock. You want my cum?”

Dazed, assaulted by so many sensations straight out of sleep, you couldn’t exactly grasp what was going on. But Kirishima’s question snapped you fully awake, and you squirmed against his body. “No, no, don’t do that.” You mumbled.

“Shh, shh, you’re okay. I’m gonna pump you nice and full, you’ll feel all warm and round. Look so cute like this.” He grunted, going harder and harder with his hips.

Then he angled just right, striking your sweet spot, and you cried out in pleasure, bucking your hips involuntarily. “Mm, there we go. Feels good, doesn’t it honey?”

It was a rhetorical question - you were too busy writhing on Kirishima’s cock to answer, one of his hands pressing flat over your stomach to feel the subtle bulge of his cock as he fucked into your guts.

“Oh Kiri! Wait, I’m not-! Wait!” You whimpered, steadily reaching your orgasm. You didn’t want to cum, you needed to slow down and gather your wits, figure out what was happening and why Kirishima was here and when this had started and-

Kiri pulled out, quickly manhandling you as if you weighed nothing. He was so strong, it was easy for him to flip you onto your stomach, pulling you to your hands and knees.

“Gonna fuck you full. You’re gonna take all of my cum, gonna get bred like a good girl, my good girl.” His teeth were clenched as he slid back home, hissing as your wet heat welcomed him. You whined at the pleasurable sensation, unable to stop your hips from fucking back, trying to take more of his cock.

“Ohhh, fuck yeah, look at you. Knew you wanted this, wanted me. You’re so perfect, taking my cock so well. You like having my fat cock filling you up? Messing up your insides? Making you all wet and sloppy?”

His hand found its way to your clit, the area already wet from the copious amounts of slick and precum the two of you had produced. Kiri quickly began rubbing large circles over your button, thumb big and calloused and oh so good.

Kirishima’s other hand grabbed at your chest, attaching to your tit and pawing at you. He was quickly devolving into a feral man, animalistic in the way he fucked you, thrusts harsh and fast and too much but hitting you just right-

You cried out as you came, convulsing in the man’s arms at the strength of the orgasm he ripped from your body.

He didn’t take a second, spurred on by your orgams and the tightening of your cunt, and instinctively bit down on your shoulder, almost growling as he pounded into you.

“Fuck, fuck! Kiri ouch, fuck!” You yelped, his sharp teeth breaking skin.

The man paid you no heed, rabbiting his hips until he started to cum, his hot seed flowing into your pussy. His hips kept going, twitching as they slowed down until they stopped completely, both of you absolutely spent.

Nothing but the sounds of panting filled the air, and Kirishima finally unhooked his teeth from your shoulder, wincing at the stream of blood the started to roll down your back.

“Oh, baby m’sorry.” He mumbled, a bit drunk off the pleasure still coursing through his veins. You collapsed forward, his arms no longer holding you up.

Kirishima didn’t pull out as he laid down next to you, keeping your hips firmly cemented to his own so that none of his cum would escape, pulling you close to his body in the process. “Pretty baby, I love you. Thank you.”

It was just a dream, it had to be. You were left with no choice but to console yourself with that thought, unable (and unwilling) to think of any other possibilities.

A wet tongue lapped at your back, Kirishima licking up the blood from the wound he inflicted. “I’ll be more gentle next time, I can be good with my teeth, I promise.”

You ignored him, letting your exhausted self flicker between awake and asleep, confused, disoriented, overwhelmed.

What did he mean by “next time”?

#yandere kirishima eijirou #yandere kirishima eijiro #yandere kirishima #bnha kirishima #kirishima x reader #Kirishima Eijirou #mha kirishima #kirishima #yandere bnha #dark kirishima #tw dubcon #tw noncon

1K notes · View notes

snackhobi · 4 years

Note

Had the worst day at work. 🗣🗣Need fluffy soft android tae to make it better

this is set in the human touch verse / part 1.5

Part 1 / [1.5] / 2

(masterlist here)

pairing: android!taehyung x reader / word count: 1.4k / genre: fluff (sfw/general) / warnings: none! (this is set after part 1, no spoilers for part 2!)

ANON I GOT YOU! 😤 I’m sorry your day at work was bad but I hope this lil oneshot makes it a little better!! ✨ and I hope tomorrow is better for you! this hasn’t been beta’ed, I typed this out as soon as I saw your message, I’m sorry for any mistakes! was a fast one!

You love your job. Honestly, you do. You know you’re lucky and that a lot of people hate their jobs, slog away at them just to make ends meet, no real passion for what they do. You’re lucky that you have a good job that you like with coworkers that you love. Really lucky. Extraordinarily lucky.

But everyone has bad days.

Days where clients are rude and brash. Days where the ideas you submit aren’t right, aren’t good enough, where everything you come up with gets sent back to the drawing board or scrapped altogether. Days where the café down the road from work is out of your favourite pastry, the last cinnamon roll stolen out from your very eyes by the person in front of you, your little guilty pleasure gone just like that.

(You watch, aghast and agape, as the other customer takes one bite into that last cinnamon roll, wrinkles their nose, and discards it in the trash. It would be one thing to have stolen it so brazenly from you, but they didn’t even finish it. You’re in disbelief.)

Your usual coping method for days like this? Get home, flop on sofa, eat takeout, feel sorry for self. It’s something you’ve gotten good at over the years, wallowing alone in your empty apartment, feeling angry and sad and small; left to stew and circle on those Really Rough Days that everyone has, unfortunately. Compounded by your solitude, your own lonely, echoing chamber. You could complain to your friends, of course, co-workers who would understand what you’re going through—but you feel stupid. Selfish, even, in complaining about these little things. So you keep it to yourself.

Or at least, that’s the plan.

Taehyung’s greeting is vibrant and bright, as it always is. His hair is red today, a shock of scarlet that fizzes on his head and frames his lovely face—he’s even changed his eyes too, a rarer occurrence, muted hazel, almost-green, an autumn forest at dawn. Seeing him makes everything a little better, an ice-pack on the mottled bruise of your day, a warm compress against an aching pain.

A little better, but not entirely.

“Hey, Taehyung,” you reply, trying to etch a smile across your lips.

Instantly, his LED flickers yellow.

“Y/n.” His voice is soft and low as he watches you kick your shoes off, hang your coat up, going through your usual daily motions, smooth with ease of practice even if your limbs feel heavy. “What’s wrong?”

You pause.

“Nothing,” you say. “I’m just tired.”

You hadn’t realised you were so transparent. Hadn’t realised that it would be so easy for Taehyung to see that something’s off, that the levity behind your words is forced, today.

Maybe, back when he’d first stepped foot in your apartment, your lie would have slipped past him. But he’s been here for a few weeks, now, and he’s grown to learn your idiosyncrasies so fast it should be frightening. (But it’s not. It’s… comforting, actually. Knowing that he can read you and does so because he cares about your wellbeing, worries about you, just as you worry about him.)

“Y/n,” Taehyung repeats.

There’s something a little more emphatic in his tone, something firmer, and you can’t help but look at him.

His LED is yellow and there’s a little frown laid across his brows, his smiling mouth set in a pursed line as he looks back at you, but he’s still soft around the edges. Concern. It’s written all over him, across every inch of his face and body, curled in the curve of his fingers as he reaches out to take your hand.

“What’s wrong?” He says, again, and something inside you dissolves, melts from black ice to gentle water under his warm touch.

“Just a bad day at work,” you admit, an almost embarrassed murmur at this confession of weakness. “I’m feeling a little stressed, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you. It’s okay.”

Taehyung’s LED is flickering, swirling yellow, before it transitions into that soft blue you love so much. “Go sit down.” He squeezes your hand. “I’ll make you something.”

Taehyung is still learning, far better at art than most other things, but he knows exactly what you like. The hot chocolate he presents you is piping hot, thick and creamy, and he’s even arranged some of your favourite biscuits on a small plate for you, set in a neat half-circle, a rainbow of cookies and otherwise. And when he sits next to you, he reaches for your hand, holds it loose but safe, looks at you with his big, big eyes—eyes that are back to their usual brown, now, his hair black atop his head, his default settings.

(You’ll never say it out loud, because Taehyung looks incredible no matter what, but you love this look. It’s your favourite, his dark hair and darker eyes, because it’s what makes him look the softest. It’s entirely Taehyung. There are no remnants of V.)

“Do you want to talk about it?”

And… you do, actually. You do want to talk about it. But still, you hesitate, until Taehyung squeezes your hand again, and all the tension rushes out of you like the air out of a balloon.

It’s weirdly easy to talk to Taehyung, someone who listens intently—like he always does—his LED a gentle looping river that flows on his temple as you spell out the minutiae of your day, each rock caught in the shoe of you life that you’ve struggled to kick out.

It’s strange, to feel coddled like this. Strange to have someone just want to listen to you, someone who cares about the things in your day that had built up into a mountain. Strange, but… nice. It leaves you feeling lighter, buoyed up, like you’ve shed part of the burden on your shoulders, like Taehyung has helped you lift it.

Things are better, the next day. Everything is fine, and your day is good; you know that yesterday was just a blip, something easily dismissed, all the easier for Taehyung’s unswerving support. A bad day is nothing important and doesn’t need thinking about. So, you put it out of your mind as you work, all but forgotten when you get home, back to Taehyung’s glittering eyes and wide grin.

His fingers are stained with paint and there are swipes of it down his apron, staining the once unmarred fabric, evidence of his endless creation. You love it, love that he loves to paint, to create, making things just because he can. For himself.

“I made something for you,” he says, and, oh.

Oh.

For himself, and for you too, it seems.

It’s a series of tiny, beautiful canvases. There’s an incredible floral display, chrysanthemums and peonies and roses and lilies and more, more, more, paint layered so thick that the petals literally rise from the page. Each one fits in the palm of your hand, so small and gorgeous, so much wonder contained in each small canvas; you’d forgotten about these. Wonder where Taehyung unearthed them from, without leaving chaos behind, your studio as organised as always.

“Do you like them?”

“Taehyung,” you murmur, staring at the canvas of forget-me-nots that’s cradled in your palm, each petal warm blue with softened hints of pink and purple, so pretty as they sit atop their stems. “I love them. They’re for me?”

Taehyung’s smile is warm, warm, warm. “I thought you could keep them on your desk at work. That’s why I painted them so small,” he says.

No one’s ever painted anything for you before.

“They’re so beautiful, Tae,” you say, and Taehyung’s LED flickers in delight at the nickname, the endearment, familiarity.

“You had a bad day yesterday and I thought you might like something nice to look at while you were at work,” he says, and his voice is so yielding and sweet, marshmallow soft. “Looking at your paintings makes me happy, and I thought you might be happy if you looked at mine, too.”

Your fingers tighten around the tiny canvas in your hand. You do feel happy.

You feel happy looking at Taehyung’s paintings.

(You feel happy looking at Taehyung.)

(The forget-me-nots sit next to your monitors, your eyes resting on those tiny, delicate blooms more often than you realise. Forget-me-not, you think, and then smile. As if you could ever forget about Taehyung.)

#taehyung x reader #taehyung x you #android taehyung #joy.masterlist #just a quick lil thing so I'm not gonna tag it properly but!! I hope u like!!#anon #ask

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piratewithvigor · 2 years

Note

drabbles you say... well. how about shawn babying bret for once. like, established relationship, shawn just wants to treat his man, and bret's not used to it, but he soaks the affection up like a sponge... I simply... love them

Here at PWV, we love and support Hartbreak where Shawn makes Bret soft and everything is just wonderful and lovely

When Shawn had cornered him in an empty locker room after the show, pulling Bret in by his straps and promising to show him a good time, he’d been expecting something more along the lines of Shawn announcing his discovery of edible lingerie or a new flavour of lube.

A bubble bath wasn’t exactly Shawn’s brand.

Walking into the hotel room, Bret had expected the door to be slammed and Shawn’s lips on his faster than he was able to get a breath in. That was their pattern. The way they worked. Whoever was feeling more adventurous would drag the other to their hotel room when the cost was clear and then they’d fuck like rabbits until they passed out or the sun came up. That night, Shawn had requested a little extra time. Said he’d wanted to prepare something. That usually meant rose petals or some kind of toy. Or more than one toy.

When Bret was finally dragged up to the room with Shawn covering his eyes with his hands in the most annoying fashion, he was directed to the bathroom and had his eyes uncovered with a flourish.

“What’s this?”

“What do you mean, ‘what’s this’? It’s a bubble bath.”

“I can see that.” Bret paused and turned to give Shawn his patented lifted eyebrow. “This isn’t some kind of kink I don’t know about right? There’s no way sex in a bubble bath is safe.”

“It can be if you’re not like 70% leg.”

“Michaels, what exactly are you planning?”

“I’m planning…” Shawn began, stripping his increasingly uncooperative boyfriend, “to get you undressed, get you into the tub, feed you an assortment of chocolate-dipped fruits, wash your hair and give you the best back rub you’ve ever had.”

“Then what?”

“I dunno, milk, cookies, tucking you in and giving you a goodnight kiss?” Shawn’s toothy grin and fluttering eyelashes only lifted Bret’s eyebrow higher. “I’m serious. You practically tore me in half last night. Wanna give back the favor tonight by pampering you.”

Bret, likely rightfully so, didn’t completely trust Shawn. Their relationship wasn’t the kind where they pampered each other without some kind of reward at the end. Aftercare was a different story, of course, but that was aftercare, not pampering. Bret didn’t run a bath for Shawn for aftercare unless specifically requested. And certainly not a bubble bath.

Never in his wildest dreams did he think Shawn would have gone out of his way to find lavender-scented bubbles and expect nothing in return.

“You’re tense,” Shawn commented once they had somehow crammed themselves into the hotel tub that was certainly not built for two guys their size.

“I’m still trying to figure out what you’re planning.”

“Can’t a guy run his boyfriend a bubble bath without being suspected?”

“A guy could. You can’t.”

“Jeez, you’d think it was your first time…”

Shawn was occupied enough with trying to get comfy that he almost didn’t spy Bret’s cheeks going a little pink.

Almost.

“Holy shit, it is your first time, isn’t it?”

“I’m sure I must have at some point. When I was too young to shower with my brothers. But when there’s 14 people and you’re wearing hand-me-downs that have gone through at least five kids, spending money on bubbles isn’t exactly a top priority.”

“Well, lucky for you, I’ve got disposable income and the bizarre urge to make you happy. So lie back and relax, okay?”

Bret opened his mouth to argue, but fell silent when Shawn put his finger over his lips. They just needed a little silence and a little time to be together. With his orders in place, Bret sighed softly and let his shoulders fall under the water level, the bubbles rising around his face.

“This… is nice.”

“I told you. Not everything I do is smutty.”

“We’re still naked, Shawn.”

“Baths don’t count. I think it’d be dirtier if you were fully clothed.”

“Possibly,” he chuckled, wrapping an arm around Shawn’s shoulders to pull him in close. “Thank you for this.”

#Space Dad #Texas Tiddies Mikey #Hartbreak #Writing #Bret Hart #Shawn Michaels

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collecting-stories · 4 years

Text

F.W.B. - Rafe Cameron

Request: Can you do 93 and 118 from your prompt list with Rafe or JJ please, you can decide who. That's if your taking requests, if not then just ignore this.

A/N: Sorry I’m the worst and this took so long to post! Also I wrote it for Rafe...trying out something a little different with my writing.

Outer Banks Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

The first time you slept with Rafe it happened at a party. You weren’t drunk but you definitely weren’t sober either and he looked good, even if boys in polos weren’t your thing. Neither of you were in a place where you wanted a relationship, you weren’t ready to carve out space in your life for someone who might not be permanent and Rafe wasn’t feeling that itch to commit either. So it seemed reasonable, that a hazy sort of friends with benefits would form, a made-up contract between the two of you. 

The first and most obvious rule was that you weren’t exclusive. Rafe was happy to put it on the list that you buried in notes on your phone, exclusivity was not required. You guys were free to hook up with other people. 

“That’s fine with me, there was a guy at Topper’s party last week that was kinda hot,” you replied. Sprawled across his bed, head hanging over one side and feet dangling off the other, as you listened to him rattling off supposed ‘rules’. 

That rule was nice in theory but it was no secret that from the moment you and Rafe started sleeping together you stopped hooking up with anyone else. At first it was just subtle signals to each other at parties or texts when you were bored. 

-are you busy?-

-I’ll come to yours-

At first it was all you texted about. But somewhere along the way it changed. You didn’t play cat and mouse at parties or pretend you were thinking about going home with someone else. You started showing up together and hanging close to each other and so help anyone who tried to win either yours or Rafe’s attention. He’d send you texts in the morning and the conversation would last well into the night, various FaceTime calls peppered in throughout the day. 

“I read the directions, I know what I’m doing.”

“You say that but I’m telling you right now I’m not eating those...they look like lumps of coal.” Rafe laughed, leaning in close to the camera as if he’d be able to see the cookies you were in the process of baking. 

“They do not-“ you turned away from your phone as the door opened behind you, “Mom! Come here!” 

“What?”

“Tell Rafe these cookies don’t look like lumps of coal!” You said, a weak glare as you met his eyes through the screen. 

“Are these the cookies?” Your mom asked. Rafe didn’t miss the skeptical Look she gave as she inspected the double chocolate chip cookies you’d spent the last hour making.

“Told you!”

“You guys suck!” You whined, “I’m never baking again.” 

Rafe chalked all these little moments up to the actual ‘friends’ part of friends with benefits but you both knew differently. You were wading out into deep water, tempting feelings by getting closer to each other 

The second rule was yours and you broke it pretty regularly. Don’t bring your ‘friend with benefits’ around your family. It was a rule for obvious reasons. The moment the two of you started spending time with each other’s families was the moment you were in too deep. But that didn’t stop you from going to his house to brave Rose’s implemented Sunday Night Dinners or stop him from showing up at your grandmother’s 80th birthday with you, present in hand as if he was a member of the family already.

You both knew that bringing the other around was playing with fire. Because suddenly you were helping Wheezie with her homework and shopping on the mainland with Sarah. It didn’t end at his house either, every time he came around your mom was asking him to stay for dinner, getting him to replace the water on the water cooler because she claimed she “couldn’t do it”.

“My family thinks we’re dating.” You mentioned once, towards the end of your deal, though at the time you didn’t realize that this statement would turn out to be the catalyst that ended one thing and started another.

“Why?”

You rolled your eyes and propped yourself up on your side so you could actually take a look at Rafe. Both of you were laying in his bed, naked, post sex, talking about whatever came to mind. It would be classified as cuddling if you really had to label it but neither of you wanted to because ‘no cuddling’ was rule number three. Rafe had been clear, after sex you both got dressed. You could hang out but the spending time together and the sex had to be separate events.

“Well let’s see there was last week when you showed up to my house even though I was out and ended up hanging out with my mom while she made dinner. Or the week before when Wheezie, Sarah, and I had a sleepover at my house. Or, you know, generally showing up at every holiday in the last year.” You pointed out. None of those things bothered you, honestly, you’d only mentioned it in hopes that his response would give you some sort of hint about where he stood with you.

Instead he seemed to be more interested in where the blanket had fallen away, his eyes straying from your face to your chest. When you noticed you his expression you took some advantage of it, shifting in bed so that you were straddling him. Rafe’s hands immediately going your hips, eyes closing as you rocked back against him just enough to elicit a moan. You’d been sleeping together, exclusively, for over a year, and in that time you had learned all his little quirks. He liked having some dominance over you in bed but you knew it was just a farce and you were always the one in control. A surprising trait, considering the type of person he seemed to be.

“So?” You asked, peppering kisses along his jaw and neck. Soft, tan skin that smelled like the slightest hint of a coconut because he’d showered earlier at your place.

“So?” He repeated the word and it sounded a little dazed, as if he was only half aware of the conversation. You were fairly certain you could get him to do anything you wanted just by posing a question to him when he was in this state.

“No input on my family thinking we’re dating?”

“Who cares.”

The fourth rule was one of convenience. It was also the most obvious of the rules: if one of you started to catch feelings the whole thing would be called off. That one was broken long before either of you realized it. Your ‘friends with benefits’ tryst with Rafe should’ve never begun in the first place if you were truly going to follow the most sacred rule of hooking up. It wasn’t supposed to be serious. Ever.

And maybe you both could’ve continued living in the bubble of ‘just friends who fuck on occasion’ if it wasn’t for some touron at a party asking you on a date. Rafe had skipped the party for a week in the bahamas with his family and you had been bored out of your mind, entertained only by Topper and Kelce, who both ditched you when they found people they were interested in.

Leaving you approachable and approached was what you got. By some touron. Cute enough, he asked you on a date. It wasn’t like he was expecting a relationship, he was heading home in three days, but a date wasn’t a relationship, it was just a date. To a nice resturant on the Eight and you agreed cause why not?

Rafe was why not and he was laying on your bed, watching you get dressed. He’d come over for the same reason he always did. Sex, to hang out, to get away from Ward. Only to discover that while he was gone you had agreed to a date.

“Don’t go.”

“I’m not shipping off to war Rafe, it’s one date.” You shrugged, walking out of your bathroom in a tight skirt/bralette co-ord. “What about this?” It was white and looked great on you and you never got the chance to wear it because you never went on dates.

“Can we just stay home so I can fuck your brains out?”

You rolled your eyes at him, laying horizontally across your bed on his back, head dangling off the side. He sounded and looked like a little kid who wasn’t getting their way and honestly, he was spoiled. Hell, he had gotten to have you for a year and a half with no one else ever winning your attention long enough for a date. Now all the sudden it was like someone was taking something of his, and Rafe was not the type who liked to share.

“Does the outfit look good or not?” You asked, frustrated.

“Yeah, you look gorgeous, now don’t go.”

“I haven’t been on a date in ages Rafe, I just wanna go to a nice restaurant and have dinner and look cute and walk around the beach-”

“So, we can do that.” Rafe said, sitting up. He’d come all the way over here last minute after you declined going to his for your date. His usually slicked back hair hung like fringe and he had to brush it out of his eyes when he sat up. You’d be lying if you said that just seeing him slightly unkempt wasn’t a turn on. Rafe, without all the rich boy necessities, was arguably your favorite.

“You’re going to take me on a date?” You asked, reappearing in the door frame of the bathroom, “we don’t do dates Rafe, remember?”

“Screw that.”

“What?”

“Screw friends with benefits. You want to go on a date? I’ll take you on a date. Wherever you wanna go. We can go to a fancy restaurant, take out Druthers, whatever.” He got off the bed, coming over to you.

“Don’t make me promises you don’t wanna keep,” you said, backing up. When you hit the counter he only grinned, trapping you in. Rafe could’ve sent a text telling you not to go and you probably wouldn’t have, all this was just an added bonus in your mind. And maybe some answers, finally.

“Oh trust me, I want to keep them.” He replied, reaching passed you and grabbing your phone off the counter.

“What’re you doing?” You asked, watching as he unlocked your phone and opened up your messages, finding the texts about the date.

“This him?”

“Yeah,” You nodded, “Rafe what’re you doing?”

He held the phone to his ear and when you started to question him again, he put his hand over your mouth. “I’m on the phone.” He waited a beat for your date to answer before telling him that you wouldn’t be showing up tonight, smiling as your eyes went wide. “Her boyfriend’s home and he gets a little territorial.”

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womenofwonder · 3 years

Text

Ranking RWBY moms, from best to worst:

Summer:

Great mom, complete badass who somehow managed to balance being a huntress and being mom perfectly

Instilled her girls with a love of cookies and deadly weapons at a young age

Didn’t care that Yang wasn’t biologically related to her and love her as much as she did Ruby

It wasn’t really her fault that Salem killed her, and honestly going off on missions probably kept Salem from tracking her down at home, which would have killed Ruby too

Kali

What is this? A living mother? In a fantasy show? And she’s not even evil???

Kali is a great mom

Loves her daughter no matter what

Is supportive of her choices in boys (maybe a little too supportive?)

Allows Blake the freedom she wants and never lets her forget she’s loved

Was named after the goddess of destruction for a reason. You don’t mess with her family. Adam was lucky Yang got to him first

Maria Calavera

More of a grandmother then a mom, but still a great parental figure

She’s the mom of team RWBY and co because as you can see most of them don’t have moms

I don’t think she could cook though. She’d probably make these lethal cookies

But she can kill Grimm!

Would definitely encourage her ‘kids’ to do illegal stuff

She makes Qrow look responsible

She’s definitely got plenty of good life advice and plenty of knowledge

An Ren:

She’s a pretty great mom

Sacrifice herself for Ren (I think)

Honestly we don’t see much of her so I’m just going to leave it at that

Ironically she gets more screen time then Summer Rose but Summer Rose gets more personality

Ilia’s mom

We don’t know much about her but she obviously really loved her daughter, doing hard and dangerous work to give her a better life

Willow Schnee

I know she’s also an abuse victim, but she kinda abandoned her children to her abusive husband

She made her older daughter basically raise her younger sister, something she wasn’t equipped to do, because she was too busy drowning her sorrows

And she expected Weiss to do the same thing, apparently. “Of course he hates you, you left him with us.” I mean what the frickly frack lady? You are a parent! It’s you’re job to raise your kids and protect them, not your teenage daughter who has enough issues herself.

But she did finally snap out of it in vol 8 and saved Weiss’s life so…not a total deadbeat.

Raven Branwen:

Abandoned her daughter for no good reason

Instead of owning up to it continues to act like she’s got the morally high ground for some reason

Could literally see her daughter at any time but doesn’t

Gets upset when Yang is dismissive of her, like Yang owes her anything

Last seen abandoning Yang again, this time leaving her with a beacon to all things evil, because she doesn’t want to die.

Words can’t really express what a terrible mom Raven is.

Nora’s mom

Somehow even worst then Raven. She left her six-year-old daughter to be eaten by Grimm.

Salem:

Murdered her own kids

Abused her adopted kid

Is probably the worst mother in all of RWBY

#Rwby #Salem #Summer rose #Willow Schnee #Raven Branwen #An Ren #Kali #Maria Calavera

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kumeko · 3 years

Text

A/N: For the @setlethzine Courage, My Love zine! I wanted to give the Seteth the rom-com he Flayn deserves.

…

In his many, many centuries of living, there were a few things that Seteth knew to be true: Flayn was adorable and needed to be protected, Rhea was far more secretive than she ought to be, and he definitely wasn’t developing feelings for the new teacher. Well, new might not be the right word to apply considering everything, but the point still stood. No matter how much Rhea teased and Flayn blushed, he didn’t have one of those so-called ‘crushes’.

The only reason he had even started watching her was because Rhea had been so adamantly quiet about why she was even here, and someone had to protect Rhea and Flayn. The world was dangerous. Their foes were hidden in every corner. Fortunately, his extensive research proved that Byleth wasn’t evil. Strange and mysterious, certainly, but not evil.

And if his eye was still drawn to her, it was only because he was used to watching her. His ears strained for her every word out of habit. He was so used to his role as investigator that he hadn’t adjusted to co-worker. That was all, honestly.

That was also the reason he was sitting right now in the courtyard, strumming his fingers impatiently on the metal table as he glanced around for Byleth. At this point, she was five minutes late for their meeting. Tardiness was a terrible attribute for a professor. Seteth brushed a finger against the teapot; the ceramic still felt warm. That was a relief. After acquiring one of Manuela’s finer teas and a spread of snacks from the kitchen, he would be rather put out if Byleth didn’t get to enjoy them. It took a lot of effort to ensure the meal complimented the tea.

A shadow fell on him and Seteth looked up as Byleth slid into her seat. Frowning, he crossed his arms. “You are late.”

“My students had questions,” Byleth explained simply, straight to the fact. It was one of the few traits he admired her for. When one worked with the long-winded Hanneman, the boisterous Alois, and the dramatic Manuela, he was grateful that Byleth was the exact opposite of that. Very few words escaped her mouth, each one carefully picked, and Seteth only hoped that she would be a good influence on the others.

“That is the mark of a good teacher. It is your duty to ensure your students get the best help possible. Do not apologize for it,” Seteth praised, giving her an appreciative smile. This was definitely better than certain teachers’ propensity to arrive late due to alcohol or obsessive experimenting. “Would you like some tea?”

Byleth shook her head. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” She shook her head once more and he felt a little disappointed at that, but it couldn’t be helped if she wasn’t interested. Still, tea wasn’t the only item he’d prepared. “Perhaps a biscuit or a cookie?”

Once more, Byleth shook her head. “What did you call me here for?”

“Well, that is…” Seteth trailed off. There wasn’t really any particular reason he called her here, he just wanted to get to know her better. He smiled reassuringly. “I was hoping to spend time with you.”

Somehow, she didn’t look the least bit reassured. If anything, her back straightened slightly and she was as tense as she was on the battlefield. Perched on the edge of her seat, she wore a determined expression and asked, “Have I done something wrong?”

“What?” Well, now he knew what her enemies must have seen before she defeated them. Perhaps he had said something erroneous. Clearing his throat, he clarified, “No, nothing of the sort. As I previously stated, I merely desire to spend time with you. You have had tea parties with the students; think of this as one of those.”

Byleth nodded slowly. She clasped her hands on her lap, looking at him expectantly. “Then I made a mistake with the tea party.”

“No, that is not what I intended…” Seteth trailed off, recalling the few times he had spotted (not spied) Byleth in the courtyard. Actually, now that he considered it, there had been a few things that had bothered him. This might be the chance to rectify all that. “Very well then, since you have mentioned it, your hosting etiquette does have a few flaws. We will go over the appropriate manners expected of a professor of your status.”

-x-

Seteth rubbed his brow as he climbed the stairs to Rhea’s chambers. How did everything he did turn into a lecture? That was supposed to be a casual, cheerful meeting. Instead, it had become a two-hour lesson on the art of tea parties. No wonder Manuela tensed up whenever he passed her. If anything, it was a miracle that he was even able to have normal conversations.

He would have to repent and correct his ways. Later, though, for now he stood in front of Rhea’s doors. Rapping firmly, he waited for Rhea to call him in before entering the massive chamber. The afternoon sunlight flooded through her ceiling to floor windows, casting a warm glow in the room. As expected, the archbishop was out on the terrace. She liked to tend to her flowers at this time, claiming it was a form of meditation.

“Seteth.” Crouched next to a flower, she gently lifted its bloom and admired it as she greeted him. “As punctual as ever. I do not know what I would do without you.”

“Many things, I imagine,” Seteth responded succinctly, coming to a stop next to her.

Without her headpiece on, she looked younger. It was only when they were alone, away from prying eyes, that he could see the woman he had met all those centuries ago and not the archbishop she’d become. Her eyes crinkled as she stood up and she laughed. “Seteth, are you still sore over Byleth?”

“There is nothing to be sore about.” He crossed his arms, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice. “While I still think you should have at least informed me first, if not consulted, I do not mind that anymore.”

“You do not mind?” Rhea’s lips quirked as she studied him. He wasn’t sure what she was looking for, only she had found it when she smiled teasingly, “I thought I noticed a change in your demeanor.”

He stopped cold at that. Giving her a bemused look, he asked, “What do you mean?”

“I heard about your date with the professor,” she replied easily, mirth colouring her tone. “You are moving faster than I expected.”

“A d-date?” Seteth sputtered, his neck burning at the very suggestion. “Preposterous! Of all the things to suggest—we were not on a date or anything of the sort.”

“Really?” A finely shaped brow rose and she pressed, “Even though you had tea together in the garden?”

“That was merely a formality to know her better!” Seteth tried to keep his cool and not hiss. This was clearly a mistake. After all, Rhea had lived a long time and most of it alone. Perhaps she had forgotten about courtship entirely. “After all this time spent distrusting her, I wanted to improve our relationship.”

“Is that so?” Rhea answered, in a tone that suggested she did not believe a word of it.

“It is,” he replied firmly.

Rhea squeezed his shoulder before heading back to her bedroom. “It is cute to see you smitten so. Now come, we have to get through those reports.”

It was childish to continue the argument. It was childish and that was the only reason he wasn’t retorting as he followed her in.

-x-

“That is a date!”

Of all the responses he expected his daughter to utter, those hadn’t been on the list. Seteth stared at Flayn, jaw slightly open as he struggled to understand just what was happening. How did both Rhea and Flayn get such a simple thing wrong? “It is not.”

Flayn wasn’t listening to him. Hands clasped, a faraway look in her eyes, and a dreamy tone in her voice, she continued to ramble as though he hadn’t spoken. “Oh, this is the most delightful of news! I did not think the professor had caught your eye.”

Well, he couldn’t entirely argue that. “That was only to ensure your safety.”

“Love blooming from adversity—it is like one of my favourite books.” Flayn turned to him, a gentle smile on her face. “If you are concerned about Mother, do not fret. I am sure she would approve of this too.”

“That wasn’t—I wasn’t…” Seteth trailed off, not sure how he had ended up in this mess. Flayn must have been reading too many romance books recently; it was eating away at her brain and casting everything in a similar light. “While that is reassuring, that is simply not the case here. I was only trying to create a sense of camaraderie between Byleth and myself.”

“The best romances are a slow burn.” Flayn nodded her agreement. He had a feeling she hadn’t heard a word he said. “For your next step, might I suggest a gift? It is always heartwarming to receive one.”

“Why would I—” Seteth paused. Actually, now that he thought about it, a gift was a great suggestion. A well-picked one could deepen their bond and show Byleth how he intended to change their relationship. It could even serve as an apology for all the mistrust he had shown her. “A gift is perfect. Thank you, Flayn.”

“No problem.” She smiled brightly at him. “I will root for you!”

It would be a headache to correct her, so he didn’t bother.

-x-

“A gift?” Standing near the docks, Byleth looked at the long, thin package in Seteth’s hands and then back at him. Her brow furrowed as she tried to understand. “For me?”

“Yes.” Seteth held the package uncertainly. It had been hard to pick something for Byleth. The more he had thought about it, the more he had realized that he knew very little about her despite his watchful gaze. Certainly, he knew her habits in the school—how hard she worked to teach her students, the skill she showed with a weapon, the soft way she would look at the students sometimes. Yet those were habits, nothing more, and one couldn’t buy a gift based on that. While he had finally figured out what to do, it was still mostly guesswork. He hated this level of ambiguity.

“What is it for?” She still didn’t take the gift. Instead, her frown deepened.

This really wasn’t going how he had planned. Seteth held out the package insistently. “There is no particular reason. I merely thought it would suit you. Now please, accept it.”

Byleth quietly studied his face for a long moment before nodding and taking it. “Thank you.” Without another word, she tore through his meticulously folded wrapping paper.

“You could unwrap it late—” Seteth sighed, giving up when she showed no signs of stopping. Well, this was embarrassing. His cheeks warmed and he clasped his hands behind his back.

It took her a total of two minutes to remove the wrapping paper. He hoped that eagerness meant she was warming up to him. Now holding a fishing rod in her hands, Byleth gave him a puzzled look. “A fishing rod?”

The very situation he had been dreading: explaining himself. Clearing his throat, he resisted the urge to mutter. “You won the fishing tournament, a feat of skill that indicated you spend a lot of time fishing. I had inspected your rod earlier and noticed it was a little worn. It would be terrible if a fish escaped due to your gear breaking at the wrong time.” He tried to smile again. “I thought you could use this. It is a good model. I have used its like before.”

Still looking bemused, she nodded. “Thank you.”

Well, it wasn’t the joyous response he had hoped for, but it wasn’t the scared reaction she had given at the tea party either. A step forward, at least. “If you need any help with it, just ask.”

She didn’t reply, her focus already on the rod. Byleth wasn’t quite smiling, but her lips turned up as she examined the hook keeper. That was a good sign, right? That had to mean she was pleased.

Maybe.

Hopefully she wasn’t laughing at him.

-x-

“A fishing rod?” Flayn glared at him, her hands balling into fists as she paced in his bedroom. “Fa—Brother, that is not a romantic gift at all! It does not tell your loved one that you are thinking of them!”

Seteth crossed his arms defensively. “We have gone through this already, Flayn. There is nothing between the professor and I.”

“A fishing rod is too practical for a courtship gift!” Once again, she wasn’t listening to him. Maybe he should block her access to the library for a while, or sneak in some proper books into her reading. At this rate, she was going to think his every interaction with another was a sign of love. “No wonder she looked confused!”

Byleth hadn’t only looked confused. He was certain he hadn’t imagined it, the curve of her lips, the amused look on her face. It was an expression entirely unlike her usual ones, and he would know, having watched her as he had. Even her students hadn’t provoked such a reaction. The thought sent a rush through him. Perhaps he was the only one so far who had seen it.

“There is only one way to correct this mistake.” Flayn was in his face now, an earnest expression in her face as she grabbed his hands. “You must give her an even bigger gift. I have heard that serenading a lover at dawn is the purest form of love.”

“Serenading?” It was an idea he ought to reject immediately and in its entirety. Yet Flayn’s last suggestion had given him the gift of Byleth’s almost-smile. Perhaps this one could generate another smile. What would she look like, radiant and glowing, unable to hide her happiness?

He didn’t hesitate before nodding.

-x-

Standing in front of Byleth’s door, a lute in hand, Seteth silently cursed himself. This was a terrible idea. An utterly terrible idea. Not only was a serenade a romantic thing, he was also disturbing someone in the middle of the night. Just because he often rose at dawn to attend to his duties didn’t that mean Byleth did.

What had he been thinking, agreeing to this? Seteth knew the answer to that. He hadn’t been thinking at all, distracted as he had been by Byleth’s expression. Instead of smiling now, the moment she laid eyes on him, she would glare. Their relationship would go back to what it had been. This was a mistake. The only good thing was that he had come to his senses before he started playing. There was still time to turn around and leave.

There was still time—the door in front of him slowly opened and Seteth froze.

A very drunk Manuela stepped out, her hair disheveled, her dress crumpled. She stared at him for a long minute, then at the lute in his hands. “My, I must be drunker than I thought,” she mumbled, shaking her head and stumbling back into her room. “That’s it, I am not drinking for a week.”

Not only had this been a mistake, but he had gotten the wrong room. Seteth walked (not ran; he was definitely not running) away in an undignified manner.

#setleth #byleth eisner #seteth #flayn #rhea #fe3h #fanfic

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sassyduckqueen · 3 years

Text

Miraculous: Rise of Anatis 54

And here's Startrain. Sorry it took a while to get it done. Hopefully the next chapter won't take so long but I will be back at work now so things might be slow. Also the next chapter I have planned is Frozer. Yep, I'm finally doing it. Anyway I hope you guys like this chapter :D

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Chapter Fifty-Four: Startrain

~At Master Fu's~

"Good work tonight, Luka," He stated as Luka handed him the fox miraculous and he put it back into the box. Luka yawned before stretching. "You have time for a little lesson yes?"

"I do, Master," He replied, looking at him. "I'm just a little tired from the recent akumas,"

"Understandable," He replied as he opened one of the compartments of the miracle box. He took out a pair of glasses, causing Luka to raise an eyebrow.

"The Horse miraculous?" He asked, causing Master Fu to nod.

"Yes, today you will be learning about it and it's powers," He stated as Luka listened. "But we will be doing this lesson slightly different,"

"How so?" Luka asked, frowning a little as Fu placed the glasses down and closed the rest of the box, putting it back. Luka frowned as usually Master Fu have him recite what the kwami represented, what their miraculous was, what they power did and what their favorite food was and then he would allow Luka to wear the miraculous for an hour to talk with the kwami itself. "Am I not wearing the miraculous?"

"You can wear the miraculous but I think we should try a new method with learning about the kwamis," He replied, making Luka frown a little before Master Fu held up his hands. "Not that I don't think you're learning. Quite the contrary, you are a very fast learner and an hour just doesn't seem to be enough..."

He picked the glasses and placed them into Luka's hands, causing him to look at him in surprise.

"Plus given recent circumstances... I think it would be best for you to hold on to the horse miraculous for a little bit,"

"Wait you want me to look after it?!" He gasped, surprised before sighing as he looked down at the miraculous. If he recalled correctly, the horse miraculous gave the power of teleportation, which would be very useful if he needed to make a quick escape plus he has that school trip coming up. He had informed Master Fu about it but he figured he wouldn't be able to go but while he had a feeling that Master Fu was trying to help him, he also suspected it was also to help him if Issac came back into his life. "This is because of Issac isn't it?"

"Partially, yes," Master Fu admitted, making Luka sigh and push his hand through his hair. "But I am also giving you a chance to go on this school trip. It might help with the stress of the situation..."

"I'm not stressed," Luka stated before sighing. He knew he was lying. He sighed again before looking up at Master Fu. "Look, Issac hasn't come after me again and he probably won't..."

Master Fu frowned and looked to the side, making Luka frown as well.

"You think he might try to kidnap me again,"

"We don't know what he wants and just because he was chased away doesn't mean he won't come back," Master Fu replied, making Luka sigh. He knew Master Fu was right. He knew Issac wasn't one to quit no matter what happened. He knew that if he wanted to kidnap him, he will try again. No, it would be better for him not to have two miraculous on him and he probably should stay home from the school trip as well. Issac might try and use it to his advantage.

"All the more reason for me not to have two miraculous on me!" He gasped but Master Fu shook his head.

"Just imagine he tried to kidnap you again and succeed," He stated, making Luka frown. He didn't want to imagine that. "You could use the horse miraculous to escape and protect yourself if necessary. We both know you wouldn't transform into Anatis, meaning he could seriously hurt you,"

Luka sighed and frowned as he knew Master Fu was also right about his point. If Issac did try to kidnap him again and succeed, he wouldn't necessarily have a way out but if he had the horse miraculous, he could transform and use it plus it was a chance to learn how to wield a second miraculous.

"Alright..." He sighed. "It has the power of teleportation right?"

"Yes, you can use it to teleport back to Paris if there is an akuma," He explained, making Luka look at the glasses. It does mean he can go on the school trip. His class and Marinette's class are suppose to be doing a day trip to London in a couple of days time. He wanted to go but at the same time, he was unsure because of akumas. However, the horse miraculous would allow him to go since he could just teleport back.

"So... I can go?," He asked, causing Master Fu to nod. "Are you sure you're ok with it?"

"Luka, if I wasn't ok with it, I wouldn't suggest it," He replied, making Luka nod. "Besides, Anatis deserves to have a bit of fun just like all young people his age,"

"Thank you, Master," Luka smiled before he put them on. A silver ball of light fluttered around him before turning into a small horse like kwami as they transformed into silver framed glasses that were oval in shape. She looked at him with an unimpressed look. "Um.. hi..."

"You must be Master Luka," She stated, making him nod. "I am Kaalki, the kwami of teleportation,"

"It's nice to meet you," He smiled, making her smile a little before she realized and huffed. "You'll be staying with me and Tikki for a couple of days so I can get use to your powers in case I ever need them,"

"Well, of course, you would need them," She gasped as he stood up. "How else would you travel?"

"Walking?" He asked, making her huff before he turned to Master Fu. "Master, should I transform now or wait until I actually need it?"

"I would recommend transforming now then you can get a feel for the miraculous since it is different to what you usually use," Master Fu suggested, getting a nod of Luka before he turned to Kaalki.

"What are your transformation words, please?" He asked, making her sigh a little before facing him.

"It's Kaalki, full gallop to transform," She informed, making him nod. "And to detransform, it's Kaalki, dismount. To use my power, say voyage,"

"Voyage, got it," He nodded before holding out his hand. "Kaalki! Full Gallop!"

Kaalki disappeared into the glasses, turning them into sunglasses before a silver light, transforming him. His main suit was a very dark gray with cream patches, resembling the coat of an Appaloosa horse. He had brown leather straps on his legs and a matching belt, along with a zip that had a small horseshoe as the zipper. The belt bucket was also a horse shoe and his boots were dark gray with brown soles. He wore a cropped biker jacket that was a dark blue gray color and he wore sunglasses over his eyes. His hair was dark brown with blonde highlights and he had fingerless gloves on. He glanced down and looked over himself before reaching behind his back and taking the horse shoe off it. He examined it, discovering how to use it as a phone before putting it back.

"Is there anything else, Master?" He asked, causing Master Fu to shake his head. "Ok... I'll get going then. Voyage!"

He held out his hand as he summoned his power, moving it in a circular motion as a glowing ring appeared around his hand before throwing it. It opened up, showing the Liberty on the other side. He stepped through and it closed behind him before he realized he was stood on the roof. He had been aiming for his room but apparently, he needed practice. He climbed down and through the portal, sliding in his room.

"Kaalki, dismount," He stated, causing the transformation to drop. He caught Kaalki in his hand and smiled a little as she looked around. "This is my room,"

"It's not too shabby," She replied, floating over to the posters and pictures on his wall. She pointed to one he had of him and Jagged. "Who is that?"

"That's my father," He explained as Tikki floated over. He handed her a cookie despite not having used her transformation. "And that of my friends. That's Adrien, Kagami, Marinette, Chloe and Marc and that one is of my band. That's my sister Juleka. She plays bass and her girlfriend Rose... that's the small one... she's our lead singer and that big guy is Ivan. He's our drummer. They're also heroes. Juleka is Culpeo, Rose is Abeille and Ivan is Leatherback. Kagami and Adrien are heroes too. Ryuko and Aspik,"

"And that girl?" She asked, pointing to Chloe. "She looks famous,"

"I guess she kind of is," He replied, making Kaalki look at him. "She's an heiress and the daughter of Paris' mayor. Do you like fame?"

"I like my holders to have a certain amount of renown," She explained, making him nod.

"I get it," He replied, smiling a little. "Do you have a favorite food?"

"I enjoy apples," She replied, making him nod before he left the room. She floated over to Tikki. "Your holder seems very kind,"

"He is," She smiled as she nibbled her cookies. "I'm glad you're here with us though,"

"It is unusual,"

"Very but Luka has been having a hard time recently," Tikki replied, frowning. "He almost got kidnapped the other day and he's been having bad nightmares because of it. I'm worried that he'll get akumatized or that something bad will happen,"

"Oh, Tikki, don't worry," Kaalki stated, hugging her. "I will help you protect him,"

"Thank you, Kaalki," She smiled, hugging as Luka came back in with a small plate of apple slices.

"It's a green apple if that's ok," He smiled, making Kaalki nod and fly over as he looked for something. He found a small pillow that he had found for Tikki before he got her a small bed. "You can sleep on here as well,"

"Thank you," She smiled as he yawned. "If you tired you should go to sleep as well,"

"Yeah, I have school in the morning," He yawned again, stretching before he walked over and turned on a lamp that changed colors. He got changed into his PJs and got into bed, turning out his normal lamp before curling up. "Good night, Tikki. Good night, Kaalki,"

"Good night, Luka,"

"Sweet dreams, young master," Kaalki stated, looking up. She couldn't but smile as she saw he had fallen asleep almost instantly. Tikki flew over and curled up next to him as Kaalki finished her apple slices. She decided to fly over and curl up next to him as well, closing her eyes as she did.

~A Couple of Days Later~

"I can't believe you actually decided to come to London," Juleka mumbled, grinning as they got off the bus and headed to the train station. She was certain that Luka would make an excuse as to why he couldn't go but she was glad he was coming by. Both of their classes were going with both Miss Bustier and Mrs Mendeleiev acting as supervisors for the trip. Luka chuckled and shrugged, making Juleka glare at him a little. "I bet you only came because Marinette would be there,"

"No, I came along because my class is going and I actually want to see Big Ben," He gasped, going red a little as Juleka sniggered. "Marinette been there is an added bonus,"

"Sure it is," She grinned, making him glare at her a little. "Bro, your death glare needs work,"

"You are so mean to me," He gasped, making her laugh as they walked over to Rose, Ivan and Mylene. They began chatting as they waited for the others to turn up. Luka doubted that Adrien and Kagami would be able to come along but it would be nice for them too. He knew Marinette was going as she had been rambling on about it since the day they found it out it was happening. Felix wasn't going. Luka wasn't surprise. As he put it, if he wanted to go see Big Ben, he would have stayed in London. Unfortunately, Lila was going. Luka was annoyed to find out from Adrien that she had been hired by his father as his new model but he hoped that it would also keep her busy. He was pressing charges against her for sexual harassment but her family's lawyer was trying to convince him to go for a settlement. He sighed and shook his head as a white car pulled up. Marinette got out followed by Alya, Max and Markov, making him smile.

"Luka!" She gasped, rushing over to him and hugging him. "I thought you weren't able to make it,"

"My luck kicked in," He smiled, making her grin as Max and Alya walked over with Markov floating next to him.

"Glad you could make it, Luka," Alya grinned. "Marinette's been pouty all morning,"

"Alya!!" Marinette gasped, going bright red as Juleka smirked.

"He's only coming because he gets to spend time with Marinette," She grinned, making him go bright red.

"Jewel!" He gasped as everyone chuckled as a woman in a train conductor's uniform walked over and grinned, causing Luka to notice her. Her song reminded him off a rocket taking off or like a sci-fi film.

"Young love eh?" She asked, causing both Luka and Marinette to turn an even bright shade of red, making her chuckle before shaking her head. "Ok, who wants a sneak peek at Star-train's operator cab?"

"Yeah!" Everyone yelled and nodded excitedly including Kaalki, making Luka go a little pale as Mrs Kante chuckled at their excitement. He mentally thanked his luck that everyone had yelled at the same time so no one had heard her.

"Thanks, Mrs Kante!" Alya grinned as she took out her phone. "This will make an awesome video for my astrology blog,"

"You made another one?" Luka asked, surprised. Alya chuckled and nodded.

"Of course," She grinned as Marinette shook her head, making Alya mock glare at her. "What? Life is so interesting,"

"That it is," Ivan agreed as they all followed Mrs Kante, heading inside. Luka waved at Aurore and Mireille as he saw them stood by the platform, causing them to smile and wave back at him. He smiled before catching up with the rest of the group. He stopped and whistled lowly as he saw the train. He wasn't much of a fan of trains but he had to admit this one was impressive. It looked very sleek and reminded him of a bullet. He could imagine it would go extremely fast. Mrs Kante walked over to the conductor booth and pressed a button, opening the door and going inside before turning to the group as they followed her.

"This is where the conductor sits," She explained, gesturing towards it as the children peered inside. She took a seat and placed her hand on a switch as the kids moved closer. "The operator must keep their hand on this switch throughout the whole journey between Paris and London. It's called the dead man's switch,"

"And what would happen if you took your hand off it?" Mylene asked as Alya filmed the area.

"The train would come to a stop," Mrs Kante explained, smiling as she looked at them.

"Even for a second?" Marinette asked, making her nod.

"It's a safety switch," She explained, making them nod. "In case the operator feels faint for example,"

"That's why I've always loved traveling with my mum by train," Max grinned, clearly proud. "Trains get from point A to B within the given time they are programmed and they are safe,"

"Programming is the best," Markov chimed in, making everyone smile before Alya moved the camera onto Mrs Kante.

"Have you always wanted to drive a train?" She asked, making her look at the camera.

"Well, I've always wanted to be a driver, yes," She explained, making them nod before she looked towards the sky. "But my true dream is to an astronaut!"

"Well, that explained the rocket," Luka muttered to himself as she smiled up towards the sky.

"To drive a rocket around the universe!" She grinned excitedly before she turned to them again. "I decided to operate trains so I could be here while Max grew up. You see a space mission can take several months but I could never be away from my maxypoo that long,"

She grinned as he hugged before gently pulling away and placing her hands on his shoulders.

"But now my son is a young man," She grinned as Max turned to the others.

"My mom has taken the exams to start her astronaut training," Max grinned, making them all nod impressed. Marinette gently clapped her hands together.

"Oh that is amazing," She grinned as Max smiled.

"I'm expecting the test results today," Mrs Kante replied, pressing her smart watch. Her face fell when the watch told her that she had no new emails but Max shook his head.

"It's too early, mum," He stated, making her look at him. "The official documents said 11am! You'll get them during the train ride,"

"If I pass, this trip will probably be my last," She explained, smiling. "Next time I drive, I'll be manning the controls of a space shuttle, taking the next space crew to the moon,"

"You have an 89.7 % chance of passing," Max grinned but she looked down a little.

"That still leaves a 10.3% chance of failing," She replied, frowning but Max shook his head as he smiled up at her.

"I believe in you," He grinned, hugging her. "You're the best,"

"I hope you do pass it, Mrs Kante," Luka smiled as Max pulled away from her. The others nodded as well, making her smile.

"Mind if I take a picture of you for my blog?" Alya asked, causing her to nod and pose as she took it. "Thanks!"

"No problem," She smiled back before looking at her watch. "You kids should be probably get to your seats though. We've been leaving soon,"

"Ok," Marinette nodded as they began to leave the area. "Thanks for giving us a tour, Mrs Kante,"

"Yeah, this will be great for my blog," Alya grinned as she stepped out. Rose shouted a thanks as Juleka mumbled before the group headed to the train car they would be in. They saw Ms Bustier and Mrs Mendeleiev waiting for them as they got closer before they started to head to their seats. Luka smiled and waved as he saw Chloe and Sabrina walking over. Sabrina grinned and waved back as Chloe gave him a soft smile before they walked over to Ms Bustier.

"My father has paid for an upgrade to first class for me and Sabrina so we will be sat in there," She explained, making Miss Bustier blink but nod before the two girls got on the train and headed to first class. Luka shook his head a little but he was happy that Chloe had gotten Sabrina a first class seat as well. He went to step on the train but saw a woman struggling with a suitcase. She was clearly getting annoyed by it and let out an annoyed growl when she tripped and it fell open, spilling her things. Without a second thought, Luka rushed over to her and helped her put her things back in.

"Oh thank you," She gasped, closing the lid and trapping an akuma that had been targeting her in the suitcase. Neither her or Luka had noticed it. She zipped up her suitcase and Luka helped her get it on the train. "Would you mind helping me get it into the luggage area?"

"Not at all," He smiled as they entered the first class area. Once she found her seat, he hoisted it up into the luggage area. "There,"

"Oh thank you so much again," She smiled as he nodded before he headed back to the cart. Lila looked up at him as he walked by. She went to say something but apparently thought better and closed her mouth, huffing and crossing her arms. He frowned and headed to his seat next to Aurora, who was reading a book. She looked over at it and grinned a little.

"Where did you disappear off to?" She asked as he put his rucksack in the luggage area, sitting down. The train began to move, leaving the station.

"I was just helping a woman with a suitcase," He replied, glancing around. He had never been on a train like this before but what made him nervous was that Kaalki would suddenly float out. He had the glasses in his pocket, next to Tikki but Kaalki insisted on been in his bag where his scarf was. He figured it was because it was warm. He had also left an apple in there for her. He also had a back up plan in case Kaalki did decide to fly about. He was just gonna say that Anatis lent him a miraculous due to what his step father did. Aurora nodded before going back to her book. "What ya reading?"

"Acting techniques," She replied, looking back at him. "You ok?"

"Hmm? Oh yeah," He muttered, moving his hands and clicking them. "I just miss my guitar,"

"Aww and you've been doing so well," She teased, making him frown a little before they both laughed. "So what's on your mind?"

He rose an eyebrow before sighing. It's not like he could tell her that he was concerned about Kaalki getting over excited about the train. She had gotten excited when she saw cars and tried to fly out in public that morning. He had snatched her up and had to give her a talk about not floating off. Kaalki had been a bit sulky for the rest of the day but she understood.

"I'm just nervous about riding this train," He lied, rubbing the back of his neck as he frowned a little. He didn't want to lie ab. "It's not like I'm frightened or anything but I've never been on a train like this before and while it's really cool, I guess I'm just... you know..."

"Hmm... I think it's more then that," Aurora stated, making him look at her with surprise. "But don't worry. If that asshole tries any funny business, I'll kick his ass,"

"Asshole?" He asked before realizing. "Oh... him... I don't think he'll try anything on a train full of people but... I guess I didn't think he would try to kidnap me either..."

"Like I said, I'll kick his butt," Aurora grinned, making him smile a little before her expression went a little serious. "But you know it's ok to be afraid right? I mean I would have been terrified,"

"I was.." He admitted, frowning as he looked at his hand. "But he hasn't tried again so hopefully I'm safe..."

Aurora nodded as small little boxes appeared out of the seats and moved over to people. Luka rose an eyebrow as he looked at them.

"Would you like a beverage?" It asked in a female voice, making Aurora smile.

"I'll take an orange juice please," She stated before looking at him. "Want a drink, Luka?"

"Um... sure," He muttered, looking towards the bot. "I'll have an orange juice as well please,"

"Enjoy," The bot stated as two cups appeared out of it. Luka grabbed them and passed one to Aurora before they took a drink. He glanced around, noticing how everyone was. Marc was sat next to Nathaniel, who was drawing him. Rose and Juleka were sat next to each. Rose had her head in Juleka's lap as she napped. Same with Mylene and Ivan. Marinette was sat with Alya while Adrien, who manages to get on the trip, was sat playing a game with Nino. Mireille was sat in front of them, talking to Kagami who had also gotten on the trip. Jean was curled up next to Lila, who was frowning to herself. Mrs Mendeleiev was sat next to Miss Buster. Both were reading. Luka yawned as he looked around, causing Aurora to laugh.

"Tired huh?" She asked as he stretched.

"Just a little," He replied, sipping his drink as Alya got up and walked over to them. "Hey,"

"Sorry, Luka but could we swap seats? I want Aurora's opinion on my blog," She grinned, making him nod. He got up and grabbed his bag before moving over to Alya's seat. Marinette was leaning against the seat. He looked up at the luggage area and frowned a little as he saw there was no room for his bag on it. He sighed before carefully moving past Marinette and sitting down, placing his bag on his lap as he unzipped it. Kaalki looked up at him as he reached in to grab his iPod. He nodded his head, hinting for Kaalki to move out of the bag. She phased through it and hid herself in his jacket as he zipped up his bag and put it on the floor. He put his earphones in and pressed play, listening to Jagged's latest demo. Marinette shifted and moved her head, causing it to lean against his shoulder. He blinked and looked down at her before smiling to himself and resting his head against hers, closing his eyes as he did. Alya grinned as she saw them before tapping Mylene, causing her to look.

"Aww," She whispered before turning to Rose. "Rose,"

Rose looked up before noticing them and had to hold back a squeal of delight.

"Juleka, look," She gasped, causing the goth girl to look up from her book. She smiled as she looked over at them.

"Awesome," She grinned as Alya leaned over and tilted Alix's head so she could see them. Mireille smiled softly as Kagami also gave a small smile. Aurora grinned and turned to Alya as Marc smiled towards them.

"You moved on purpose, didn't you?" She asked, making Alya grin before she nodded. "Good call,"

"They are adorable together," Alya grinned, making almost everyone nod. However, Lila glared towards them. She got up and walked over, going to wake them up but before she could, Alya moved over. "Need something, Lila?"

"Oh, I get motion sickness and I know Marinette and Luka always seem to have a solution so-" She gasped, noticing Juleka glaring at her. Her nose ached, despite the injury been healed. She subconsciously touched it as the phantom pain began to disappear.

"I get it but they're both asleep right now," Alya stared, giving her a look that dared her to do something. Lila frowned a little before sighing.

"I guess I'll just have to suffer then," She stated, hoping to guilt-trip her. Alya frowned a little, making Lila mentally smirk as it began to work. However, it didn't last long.

"Then suffer quietly and away from my brother," Juleka hissed, surprising her. She really would have to tear her down and make her wish she hadn't gotten in her way at some point. Instead, she just gave her a fake smile and returned to her seat, scowling when she thought no one was looking. She would win against Marinette at some point. It might be a bit hard with Juleka now on her side but she would destroy Marinette and Luka will be hers.

~Meanwhile in First Class~

"Oh, this is so nice, Chloe," Sabrina gasped as they rested in reclined seats. "Thank you for letting me join you,"

"Don't mention it, Sabrina," Chloe sighed, shaking her head but she had a small smile on her lips. Sabrina smiled back before looking around as Mrs Kante announced that they would be going under the channel in the next few minutes. She noticed the woman who Luka had helped struggling to get her suitcase down so she got up and walked over to her.

"Would you like a hand, Madam?" She asked, making the woman look at her.

"Oh, yes please," She smiled before the two of them got the suitcase down. "Thank you so much. I've been having such a tough day today but you and that nice young man have been really helpful and cheered me up. It's good to know that there are people who help others,"

"It's ok, Madam," She smiled as the woman opened up her suitcase. As soon as she did, the akuma flew out, causing her and Sabrina to jump back and yell out in surprise, causing the rest of the passengers to panic. Chloe instantly jumped up as it fluttered around, unsure of who to go to.

"Calm down, everyone!" She declared, getting their attention. "Ok, whatever you do, don't panic. Now, t"here is an akuma and it will be attracted to anyone is panicky, scared, hurt or upset so take a deep breathe and keep calm,"

The akuma began to flutter towards one of the other passenger, causing Chloe to grab an empty cup and slam it over it.

"I don't think so!" She declared before looking up. "Everyone, get out of this car right now!"

As soon as she said that, everyone ran out and she followed, pressing the button on the door to lock it inside. She knew it would be best not to hold the cup she had trapped in it as it might possess her and she did not want Hawkmoth in her head again but she also knew that the cup wouldn't hold it so trapping it inside that car should help keep it away from people until Anatis somehow got here. She took out her phone and went onto the akuma app, posting their location on it before logging onto the ladyblog and doing the same.

"Are you sure it's really an akuma?" One of the passengers answered as his girlfriend held onto his jacket. Chloe rolled her eyes a little. "It looks like a harmless butterfly,"

"That's what makes them so dangerous!" Sabrina gasped, making them look at her. "And it's definitely an akuma... trust me,"

The door to the bathroom suddenly opened, causing Kim to step out in his swimming outfit. Chloe and Sabrina looked at him in surprise as he grinned at them.

"Hey, Chloe. Hey Sabrina," He grinned as they looked at him.

"What are you doing in your swimming trunks?" Chloe asked, unsure if she wanted to know.

"Well, we're about to go under the sea," He stated, making Chloe shake her head and Sabrina giggle. "I thought you two were in first class anyway. What are you doing out here?"

"Oh, there's an akuma," Chloe stated, making Kim gasp. "I trapped it in the first class car and alerted the akuma app and Ladyblog. Anyway, let's move back into the other car. We need to make room for Anatis and Lady Noir,"

Everyone nodded and moved into the second class cart, causing the class to look up in surprise as Chloe walked in with Kim and Sabrina.

"I'm scared, Jean-Pierre," A woman gasped as she held onto him. She was stood next to Marinette and Luka's seat. Jean-Pierre frowned and moved his arm around her in a protective manner.

"Don't worry, Nicole," He stated as Marinette's phone vibrated, waking her up. "If there was a real akuma, there would be a super villain on the train already,"

She frowned as she listened to them before glancing at her phone, seeing an akuma alert but she couldn't move right now as it would reveal to everyone that she was Lady Noir. She frowned again as she heard a little kid ask their father if Anatis would come but his father said no as they was no real akuma. She glanced up and noticed she was leaning against Luka, causing her face to heat up a little. He was asleep and looked really peaceful so she smiled and closed her eyes, resting against him but she didn't go back to sleep. Instead, she kept listening in case it really was an akuma.

"It really is an akuma!" One of the other passengers gasped as Chloe frowned. "I saw it! It was dark and purple!"

"It's definitely an akuma," Simon the magician gasped, causing everyone to look at him. "I should know. I was akumatized once myself,"

"There's zero risk to anyone now anyway, Sabrina gasped, making people look at her. "Chloe managed to trap it in that car and no one else is in there. As long as we all remain calm, we'll be fine and I'm sure Anatis will be here soon,"

Alya and Nino got up and went back to the car to glance inside as Rose, Juleka and Ivan looked alert. Kagami and Adrien glanced over at each other before Kagami got up and moved over to Chloe. The rest of the students looked at each other in concern.

"You activated the app, didn't you?" She asked, making Chloe nod.

"I also post it on the Ladyblog," She replied as Alya and Nino came back.

"Are you sure it was an akuma?" Alya asked, making Chloe frown but she nodded never the less. "Strange. I couldn't see anything in that room,"

"Maybe it fluttered away?" Adrien suggested, making everyone frown. "Like through the vents?"

"Then we best all stay calm," Alya replied but the moment the words left her mouth, the signature purple smog spreaded across the seats and car, transforming it. "What the?!"

"Ladies and gentlemen! I am Startrain!" The voice-over declared, causing Luka and Marinette to jolt awake. "You all get to live my dream with me. Shoot off the rails and fly off in a rocket to explore not just the moon but the whole universe!"

"Mom?!" Max gasped, feeling panicked as he realized it was her voice.

"Fasten your seat-belts!" She declared, making everyone look scared as the train began to lift up. "We have lift off!!"

The passengers suddenly all felt back as the train took off and flew into the sky, causing everyone to feel pressure against them. Luka managed to grab Marinette's hand as it did. Marc gasped and held onto Nathaniel. Adrien pulled Kagami onto his lap as she felt back. Lila looked like she was able to be sick as she actually got motion sickness. Kim caught Chloe and Sabrina before they fell and the other passengers held onto the seat handles. The pressure disappeared as they broke through the atmosphere before zero gravity kicked in, causing everyone to float. Almost instantly, everyone began to panic as they saw the literal darkness of space outside the window. One woman was crying about lack of oxygen and Miss Bustier looked pale. Luka frowned before pushing himself forward as Alya looked around panicked.

"I don't think Anatis or Lady Noir are going to be able make it up here to save us," She gasped, gripping to her phone.

"Max, it's your mum right?" Luka asked, making him nod as he looked like he was able to have a panic attack. "Why don't we try and talk to her? We should be able to convince her to land the train,"

"O-Ok," He gasped as he pushed himself forward, along with Markov. Luka followed him, causing Chloe, Rose, Juleka, Kagami, Marinette, Ivan and Adrien to follow. Max took a deep breathe as he reached a speaker. "Mom!"

"Max!" She gasped back. "You see this?! I'm Startrain!"

"Mom, you have to take us back down to earth!" He gasped, sounding more panicked. Luka frowned as his music seemed jumpy and afraid but he could understand why. It had been awful seeing his mother be akumatized so he imagined Max felt the same. He gently placed his hand on his shoulder and gave him an encouraging smile. Max shot a nervous one back before turning back to the speaker. "You can go in space once you've passed the exam!"

"Why?" She asked, making everyone frown. "Now I have a 100% chance of travelling the universe and I get to bring you with me! Isn't this fantastic?"

"She isn't listening to me!" He gasped, looking close to tears. "Oh god... what do I do?"

"Max, take a deep breathe and keep calm," Luka stated, rubbing his back before turning to the others. "We need to get to the operator's cabin to take control of the train. Maybe then we can drive it back home,"

"You know how to drive a train?" Juleka asked, frowning as Rose tapped her chin.

"Luka, how do we face Startrain?" Ivan asked, making the others nod. "None of us have any super powers,"

"Ivan is right," Adrien added in, frowning as Luka thought about it. "We don't stand a chance,"

"We might not have super powers but we do have some pretty awesome skills," Luka stated, making everyone look at him. "Plus we have two other things on our side,"

"And what is that?" Kagami asked, crossing her arms.

"The element of surprise and the fact that there is a lot of us," He stated, getting a nod of them. He pushed himself forward and opened the door, causing the others to follow as Marinette held back. Luka looked down at her before taking out his phone and dropping her a text. Somehow, they still had a signal but he figured it was down to Startrain's powers.

L: Hey, don't worry if you can't follow. Just look after yourself and try not to be afraid. xx

M: Thanks, Lu. I'm just gonna stay back here and try to not to freak out. I'm not great with flying. Be careful as well xx

L: I will and you take care as well. We'll be back on earth before you can say Miraculous Ladybugs ;P

He put his phone away before moving farther up the car.

"Oh where do you think you're going?" Startrain suddenly stated, causing Luka to frown as the train suddenly jolted and began to weave, causing them to fall back. "Don't you want to sit back and relax?!"

He grabbed onto a seat as everyone else fell back through the door and it slammed close. He looked down and frowned, noticing he was the only one left in the car.

"I don't want anyone to get hurt," Startrain declared as he pulled himself through the car and out of the other doors. "So sit back and enjoy the view,"

He frowned as he slipped into the toilet before Kaalki and Tikki flew out.

"No peace for Anatis huh?" He sighed, going to swipe his ears.

"Maybe you should transform into Appalo and teleport the train back," Kaalki suggested, making him shake his head. "Why not?"

"If I teleport the train back, Startrain will just take off again," He explained, making her pout before she nodded. "You're gonna have to go in your miraculous for a little bit as well. We don't know if Startrain is connected to Hawkmoth yet and I don't want him to realize I have more then one miraculous on me straight away,"

"Very well, Master Luka," Kaalki replied as he took out the glasses. She disappeared back into them, charging them up before he put them back in his pocket and turned to Tikki.

"Alright, time to stop Startrain," He declared before swiping his ears. "Tikki, spots on!"

He transformed before exiting out of the bathroom. As soon as he did, he ran straight into Lady Noir, causing him to raise an eyebrow.

"Annie?!" She grinned before frowning. "But... how did you get here?"

"Teleportation," He explained, making her nod. "Courtesy of the horse miraculous. And you?"

"Oh... um..." She gasped, pointing her fore fingers together. "I was already onboard..."

"Hmm... well, we best keep that to ourselves," He smiled, giving her a wink. "We better stop Startrain,"

"She has a lot of people on the train with her," Lady Noir stated, causing him to nod before heading towards them. She followed. "Should we use the horse miraculous to teleport the train back to earth?"

"Not yet. Startrain will just take off again if we do it too soon," He replied, making her nod. "We need to defeat the akuma first,"

"If we do it here in space, we'll all freeze and won't have any air to breathe,"

"I thought about that too," He replied as they moved closer to the door. "We'll need to teleport at the same time as capturing the akuma but before we can do that, we need to reach her first but let's make sure no one is panicking first. The last thing we need is freaked out passengers,"

"Ok," Lady Noir replied as they moved through the door and into the car where everyone was. As soon as the passengers saw them, they all let out sighs of relief. "Is everyone ok?"

"We're alright," Adrien gasped as Rose held Max, who was trying to remain calm. "But it's Max's mother. She got akumatized and he's not taking it well,"

"Don't worry. We'll save her," Anatis stated before turning to Mrs Mendeleiev and Miss Bustier. "Can you lead everyone to the back of the train so they don't get hurt?"

"Of course, Anatis," Mrs Mendeleiev stated before clapping her hands. "Students! Follow me!"

The class followed as Anatis and Lady Noir went to leave the car but the doors slammed shut, locking themselves. Lady Noir moved over and tried to open them but frowned when they didn't budge. She looked over at Anatis as he moved closer.

"Reinforced plexiglass," She declared, making him frown. "Unbreakable... well apart from my cat-"

"Not yet!" He gasped, taking her wrist and making her look at him. "Save it for when we face Startrain,"

"Ok but how do we unlock the doors?" She asked as he looked around before his luck vision highlighted Markov.

"Markov!" He shouted, getting the little bot's attention. It floated over to him. "Are you able to unlock the door?"

"Of course, Anatis," He replied as Lady Noir opened the panel next to the door. He connected to it and hacked into it, opening it as Startrain warned them to give up or she fly them close the sun. "There we go,"

"Good job," Anatis smiled before glancing around. He looked back at Markov. "We're gonna need you to come with us,"

"Of course, Anatis but Max won't want to leave me,"

"Max is in no state to face against his mother," Lady Noir stated. "And we need someone to wield the horse miraculous and help protect Markov,"

Anatis frowned to himself before he took out his yoyo. He knew Lady Noir was right. They did need someone to wear the horse miraculous and while he would love to give it to Markov, he wasn't sure if it would work. He scrolled down til he came across Chloe's number, pressing it to ring. She answered straight away.

"Hello?"

"Chloe, it's Anatis. Come back to the car we're in," He stated, making her gasp before hanging up, causing Lady Noir to raise an eyebrow. "What?"

"How did you get Chloe's number?"

"She gave it to me when I had that talk with her," He explained, shrugging as Chloe came back through and floated over to them. "We're gonna need to move through the cars but we need someone to help Markov open the doors as we protect him from Startrain. You in?"

"I will not let you down!" She grinned, following them through to the next car. Chloe glanced around as she frowned. "This seems to easy,"

As soon as she said that the doors slammed close, causing Anatis frowned as Lady Noir looked around.

"What was that?" She asked, holding her baton ready. Anatis frowned a little more and shook his head.

"I don't know but we should be prepared for anything," He stated before throwing his yoyo up into the air. "Lucky charm!!"

The magic ladybugs summoned a hard police man's hat. Anatis grabbed it and glanced around in his luck vision but nothing lit up yet. He frowned to himself and hooked it on his belt before turning to the two girls.

"I can't find-" He started but he was interrupted by the hot air been blown into the car. It was strong enough to push them back. Lady Noir used her baton to stop them from falling and grabbed Anatis' hand as he wrapped his arm around Chloe's waist to stop her from falling as well. She grabbed hold of Markov as they began to pull themselves across the chairs until they came to the door. Lady Noir pried open the panel, allowing Chloe move from Anatis and place Markov against the inside. He began to work on it as the room continued to heat up.

"Miss Bourgeois, my circuits are overheating," He gasped as the screen began to turn red and glitch out. Chloe frowned deeply as she looked at Anatis and Lady Noir, who were sweating.

"What do I do?!" She gasped, panicking. "He's having a melt down!"

"He's has to finish the job, Chloe," Anatis gasped as sweat dripped down his brow before he made a face as he thought. "We need to cool him down! Otherwise, we're gonna be toasted inside this car!"

Chloe frowned at that before she glanced around, along with Lady Noir and Anatis. She noticed a bottle of water and grabbed it before pointing to it. Anatis looked over and gave her a thumbs up. She moved back over to Marvok and unscrewed the bottle, pouring the water over him. He began to cool down and began to work on opening the door.

"Good thinking, Chloe," Lady Noir smiled, despite the heat. Chloe smiled before the door clicked and opened. The three of them quickly existed the room and took a gulp of cool air. Lady Noir let out a gasp of relief. "Whoa! We almost got cooked in there,"

"Everyone ok?" Anatis asked, getting a nod of the girls. "Alright, next car,"

He floated over to the door and peered inside. Nothing seemed to be happening yet, making him frown. Suddenly, ice crept across the doors, making him move back in surprise. He frowned and turned to them as Chloe gently patted Markov on the head.

"Markov, can you check the oxygen level in the next car please?" He asked, causing Markov to float over to him and press his claw against a computer screen. The oxygen level appeared on his screen but was decreasing.

"It's decreasing quickly,"

"Startrain is creating a void," Anatis muttered, making Chloe and Lady Noir frown before he glanced up at them. "The temperature will soon reach absolute zero. We'll be ok since our suits will protect us and we can also hold our breath for much longer than a normal human but..."

"Chloe won't be able to!" Lady Noir gasped, making Chloe frown. "She won't be able to withstand those temperatures without superpowers,"

"I guess that means I should head back to the back of the train..." She sighed, looking down as Anatis pulled a face before he pressed open his yoyo and reached inside. Chloe turned around to head back to the back of the train as he did but he stopped her, making her look at him in surprise. Lady Noir looked at him as he took out a small box, making her raise an eyebrow.

"Are you sure?" She asked, making him nod.

"We need someone to teleport the train," He replied, glancing at Chloe who looked confused. "Besides, she's proven herself so far..."

"Alright," Lady Noir nodded, causing Anatis to turn to Chloe and hold out the box. Her eyes widen in shock as she realized what was inside.

"Chloe Bourgeois, this is the miraculous of the horse that grants the power of teleportation. You will use it for the greater good," He declared, making her blink and stare at him. Slowly, she took the box in her hand. "Once the mission is done, you will return the miraculous to me. Can I trust you?"

"Y-You trust me to let me use this?" She asked with tears in her eyes. Anatis gave her a soft smile and nodded. "Then you can count on me, Anatis! I won't let you down!!"

She opened the box, causing a silver light to manifest and move around before Kaalki appeared.

"And to whom do I have the honor of speaking?" She asked as Chloe stared at her. She looked like she was about to fangirl over her before she shook her head.

"I'm Chloe Bourgeois," She stated, causing Kaalki to look at Anatis.

"Who are you talking to?" Markov asked, creating question marks in his eyes. Lady Noir rose an eyebrow as Kaalki sighed.

"Technology can't see kwamis, meaning your robot friend can't see me," She explained, making them all nod before she looked back at Anatis again. "You took my choice into account,"

"She's the right choice for the job," He replied, shrugging before turning to the two girls. "We're going to the last car, to the door to the driver's cab. That's where Startrain is. Once we get there, we'll have to deal with Startrain. I'll engage her and keep her distracted. Lady Noir, while I do that, use your cataclysm to destroy the akumatized object. I suspect it will probably be the dead man's switch and then that's where you'll come in, Chloe. Once Lady Noir has released the akuma, you need to use the power Voyage to teleport the train back to earth. Once that is done, I can use the cure to fix everything,"

"Got it!" Chloe declared, giving Anatis a salute.

"All you've gotta say is 'Kaalki, Full Gallop!'" Kaalki explained as Chloe took out the glasses and put them on. "To detransform it's Kaalki, Dismount,"

"Got it.... Kaalki! Full Gallop!" She declared, causing Kaalki to get sucked into the glasses, charging them up. Chloe lifted her head up as they glowed silver before turning into speed goggles. A silver light spreaded up from her feet, creating her base outfit which was a dark gray that faded into a light gray. She had a white patch around her chest and stomach as well. Her gloves were fingerless and her boots just came up to below the knee. Silver wings appeared on the side of her boots and glowing silver bands appeared on her arms and legs, creating leather belts with green spots on them before a brown belt appeared around her waist, creating a horse shoe as a belt buckle. She tilted her head back as her hair glowed silver. It turned a platinum blonde in color and she now sported a braided ponytail. Finally, a horse shoe appeared on her back, completing the look. She glanced over herself, grinning as she did before turning to Anatis and Lady Noir. "Alright! Let's do this!"

"I have to warn you," Anatis stated, making Chloe look at him. "No one but me and Lady Noir must know your identity this time. If you tell anyone, you lose the right to use a miraculous permanently ok?"

"Don't worry, Anatis. I've learnt my lesson," She replied modestly, making him nod. "If anyone sees me like this and asks my name, I'll just tell them to call me Valkyrie,"

"Valkyrie, I like it," He smiled, making her grin back back. "Ok, let's get to Startrain. Deep breathes everyone,"

The three of them took a deep breath before the door opened and they floated inside of the car as Startrain spoke to them.

"I was expecting you, my dear super passagers," She declared, making Anatis frown. She sounded like a typical bond villain. The four of them pushed forward as she continued to talk. "You wouldn't stop me my galactic dream! I shall conquer the universe!"

They ignored her and kept moving until they reached the next door. Lady Noir opened the panel as Anatis gasped around in his luck vision again. Nothing lit up, making him frown as Markov began to work on opening the door. Valkyrie glanced around as Startrain spoke again.

"My little drones!" She called, causing the little boxes to appear from under the seats and rise into the air. "Attack!"

They began to shoot lasers at them and Markov, causing Lady Noir and Valkyrie to dive out of the way as Anatis moved in front of Markov. He spun his yoyo as a shield, blocking the lasers as Valkyrie threw her horse shoes, taking out six drones. Lady Noir took out another three as Valkyrie blocked the shoots. As the two of them fought the drones, Markov kept working but the room grew too cold and he began to freeze, causing him to call out to Anatis. He looked behind him and saw Markov was frozen. Frowning to himself, he glanced around in his luck vision, causing some hand warmers to be lit up and then the policeman's hat. He grabbed them and used his mouth to break them before placing them into the hat. Once filled, he grabbed it and placed it around Markov as Valkyrie and Lady Noir continued to fight the drones. Valkyrie jumped onto a seat and used it to push her forward, throwing her horse shoe again and hitting a number of drones as it came towards Lady Noir. She hit it with her baton, causing it to go back and hit more of the drones before Valkyrie caught it. The remaining drones exploded, causing the girls to grin in victory before turning back to Anatis. He gave them a smile as he held the police hat over Markov while inside the hat, Markov began to warm up. His screen came back on and he narrowed his eyes as the ice began to melt. As soon as it was melted around him and the panel, he began to continue to work on opening the door. It opened, causing Anatis to let go of the hat as the girls moved over. He grabbed it and hooked it onto his belt as Valkyrie moved through the door, followed by Markov and Lady Noir. Anatis followed, causing the doors to close behind him. Lady Noir jumped over to Startrain as he threw his yoyo, wrapping it around her and trapping her.

"Cataclysm!" She yelled as she jumped over her and slammed her hand onto the dead man's switch, causing it to break.

"Valkyrie! Now!" Anatis shouted, causing Valkyrie to nod.

"Voyage!" She shouted, moving her a hand in a circle as she created a glowing ring before it wrapped around her wrist. She threw it forward, opening a portal to London as the train continued to flight forward. It went through the portal as Startrain turned back to Mrs Kante and the train went back to normal as the akuma escaped from the damaged switch.

"Hold onto something!" Anatis shouted as they headed straight for Big Ben. Valkyrie grabbed onto the seat that Mrs Kante was secured in but Anatis and Lady Noir fell forward as the train crashed through Big Ben. Anatis fell against the glass and Lady Noir fell into him, causing her to gasp and grin at him. "Everyone ok?!"

"I'm good!" Lady Noir grinned as the akuma fluttered around.

"I'm good as well," Valkyrie stated as Mrs Kante nodded. Though she was speechless from the fact that the paris heroes were literally stood right in front of her. "Though I think I got the location slightly wrong. I was aiming for London train station,"

"Well, I heard your class were suppose to be visiting Big Ben so I guess this counts," Anatis smiled as he threw the yoyo and caught the akuma before he moved and grabbed the police hat. He toss it up in the air as best he could. "Miraculous ladybugs!"

It burst into the magical swarm and wrapped around the train, removing it from Big Ben before it carried it across the sea and placed it back in the train station in Paris while fixing any other damage done, including moving the heroes so they weren't stuck against the glasses before disappearing. With everything fixed and the akuma defeated, Anatis, Lady Noir and Valkyrie jumped up, landing onto the roof of the train station before Anatis pressed open his yoyo and let the purified butterfly fly off.

"Kaalki, Dismount," Valkyrie declared, turning back into Chloe. Without hesitation, she took off the glasses and handed them back to Anatis. He put them back into the little box and placed them back into the yoyo. "Thank you for trusting me, Anatis,"

"You did a great job today, Chloe," He stated, making a light blush came over her cheeks. "I'm proud of how far you've come and you should be proud of yourself as well. I hope you keep on this path,"

"I will, Anatis! I swear!" She gasped, suddenly hugging him. He stumbled back a little bit as he didn't expect it but returned the hug never the less before she pulled away. Lady Noir grinned and held out her fist, causing Anatis to add his before Chloe looked up at him in surprise. He smiled and nodded towards their hands, causing her to gasp before adding her fist next to theirs.

"Pound it!" The three of them declared together before Anatis' miraculous began to beep.

"Sorry, Ladies, I have to be off," He smiled before he headed to the side of the building. He turned back round and saluted them before diving off the edge of the building and swinging off. Lady Noir let out a sigh before turning to Chloe.

"Need a lift?" She asked, making her nod. She picked her up and jumped down to a part of the platform where no one was around before jumping away herself. Chloe smiled to herself before running back to the train, just as Miss Bustier clapped her hands to get the student's attention. Mrs Mendeleiev was stood next to her. The two of them told the students to get back on the train to return to London. She cleared her throat as Marinette ran back over as Luka also came running over. Chloe rolled her eyes playfully before hooking her arm with Sabrina.

"Let's go back to First class," She grinned, making the small girl smile happily. Marinette smiled to herself as Luka came over to her.

"She's came really far," He stated, making her look up at him as she nodded before they both noticed Mrs Kante stood by the train, looking ashamed before she looked to the side and pressed her smart watch, just as Max rushed over to her.

"Mom!" He gasped as she looked at her watch before looking up at him with a shocked expression. "Are you ok?"

"I passed..." She stated before smiling. "Max! I did it! I passed!"

"I knew you would!" He declared, hugging her. Luka smiled before Marinette poked him.

"Want to sit back next to me?" She asked, making him smile. "I'll try not to fall asleep on you this time?"

"I didn't mind," He admitted, blushing a little as Marinette smiled shyly. "You were tired and I was tired too so it was ok,"

"Well, you are very comfortable," She smiled, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear before she took his hand. The two of them walked back onto the train and headed to their seats. Luka put his bag, containing Tikki and Kaalki onto the luggage area before sitting down next to Marinette. Alya grinned and gave the two of them a thumbs up as she sat next to Aurora, who was also grinning. Marinette smiled a little before leaning against Luka. He rested his head on top of hers and moved his arm around her shoulder as they both closed their eyes. A small smile came onto his face as the train began to move again, taking to them to London.

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

Next Chapter: Coming soon

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villa-kulla · 3 years

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Fic Writer Review

Tagged by @fontainebleau22, thanks for the tag, sorry for the delay!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

26 at the moment.

2. What’s your total AO3 wordcount?

722 309. I’d have thought it would be more considering how long some of mine seem to get, although looking at other people’s answers to this meme, I guess 26 isn’t really a huge number!

3. How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

My first fic ever was a little Lord of the Rings experiment for an exchange thing. But my first proper dip into writing for a fandom would have been Breaking Bad, where I wrote for a couple of years before it felt like my ideas had run their course. Then there was a Kingsman fic, and then Mag7 where - similarly to BrBa - wrote feverishly for a couple years until it felt like the well had been plumbed. Oh yeah and then jumped into the Marvel fandom to drop one Marvel fic before immediately jumping back out lol.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

So the Marvel fic has officially just become my most kudoed fic, which is kind of hilarious considering it was a SUEZ! CANAL! FIC! But in my opinion, a good one lol. So yeah, it would be 1. The SamBucky Suez Canal fic, 2. The Kingsman soccer AU, 3. Desert Sand, 4. Chisolm’s 7, and 5. Blue Devils. That last one surprises me, but I guess it was an early one for the fandom, so I think it became an automatic read.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not

I do! It’s possible I’ve missed some here and there, but generally I try to get them all.

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

I don’t think any of them! While my fics definitely include angst, ideally it’s still in a fun way, or at minimum, bittersweet? I don’t generally want the last taste in a reader’s mouth to be angst. ALTHOUGH. I really really wanted to include an epilogue to the selkie fic that’s kind of angsty. Basically the story would end, but then many years later we’d see an old man get off a bus on the coastal road, carrying a suitcase. He’d be wearing a suit, clearly back from many years travelling. He’d walk to the coast, back over a hill where there’d once been a little fishing cottage, long since torn down. He’d walk down to the beach and into a little cove where he’d kneel by the water he knew better than anyone. Opening the suitcase he’d take out a box which he’d then empty into the ocean, ashes spreading across the water. He’d take out a folded bundle of cloth and wrap it around his shoulders. Then he’d dive into the water, disappearing into the waves, leaving nothing but an empty suitcase behind him, and a folded pile of clothes.

I loved that ending but I’m still not 100% sure if it was keeping in tone with the actual ending, so I left it out. Maybe one day I’ll go and add it as en extra chapter snippet.

7. Do you write crossovers? If so what’s the craziest one you’ve written?

I don’t know if I’d call them ‘crossovers’ exactly, although I did stick Goody and Billy into a Some Like it Hot ‘jazz band on a train’ situation, and I also did a Breaking Bad one that used some elements of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. Those feel more like ‘AUs’ though. I like situational crossovers, but I’ve never been super into fics where characters from different fandoms actually interact.

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Thankfully not. The most off-putting comment I’ve gotten was someone who - despite being very complimentary - decided to make a full-on laundry list all the anachronisms in a chapter lmao, like what. Stuff like "interesting that this character used this expression when XYZ would only been invented 10 years later!” etc. I’m positive they didn’t realize how it came off, but still, that was kind of hilarious in its.....obliviousness lol. It was special.

9. Do you write smut? If so what kind?

I do. And I guess I’ve done the full spectrum of ‘fade to black’ to ‘describe every bead of sweat in pearlescent detail’. It really depends on what the fic calls for! I’ve done some I’m quite proud of tbh, but there are others I’d like to go back and have another stab at, just because they felt kinda cookie-cutter.

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of!

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

There’ve been a couple! I can’t remember which ones specially, but I had some people asking to translate some Breaking Bad ones, and I think a Mag7 one too. I remember someone messaging to ask permission like “We love your fics in Russia!” and that was a very sweet and wild thing to hear.

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes, I wrote one with @yoporkchopsandwiches! Our Victorian opium dens Breaking Bad AU lol. I was just thinking of that recently actually and remembering how fun it was to read what the other wrote! We plotted out most of it together, and then took turns writing chapters or scenes. But of course while writing you come up with other details or ideas, so we’d then present the new chapter to the other with all the new bits added. And it was so fun to read what the other came up with like ‘omg no way didn’t see that coming/good idea!’ and then picking up their idea from there. In that sense it was almost like improv but for writers.

13. What’s your all-time favourite ship?

That I’ve written? I think I’ve had the most fun with Goodnight/Billy, partly for the time period, partly for the dynamic, but mostly for the plausibility. While I really enjoyed writing BrBa, it felt more like it came from enthusiasm for the show, not the central ship lol. Don’t get me wrong, the chemistry and its potential was extremely fun to write in a fic setting, but I don’t find I actually shipped it while watching the show itself. Whereas it’s been nice with Mag7 to write for a ship that’s actually....more believable lol.

14. What’s a wip that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Ugh I can’t beLIEVE I have an unfinished fic up on ao3 lol it haunts me. I was sure I was done with Goodnight/Billy, and then early quarantine last year I had a train robbers AU idea, so I posted a couple chapters. But I don’t think my heart was super in it, I was more just messing around with the idea. I don’t want to delete it, but I’m also not super motivated to finish it haha, but we’ll see what happens. But tbh I like the poem summary better than the fic itself:P

15. What are your writing strengths?

Plotting, keeping things moving, and making stories feel visual maybe? They’re almost all movies in my head anyways, so I think I have good instincts for ‘cinematic moments’.

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

I think I’m a little lazy, and also ‘end-product oriented’. In some ways it’s helpful to picture the whole fic before you write it, but sometimes it results in some scenes feeling slightly slapdash because I’m just trying to get them out to move onto the next. Like ‘everyone did everything I wanted to in this scene? Great, next.’ I could stand to ‘stop and smell the roses’ more while I write, and actually see what else I can do to improve a scene.

(also if I use a word once it sticks in my head I end up using it like 5 other times in a scene and don’t notice lol, I need to stop that)

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

All for it! Depends how it’s done though. I personally find long scenes of dialogue where you have to constantly jump down to the author’s notes for the translations to be distracting. I like when it’s integrated more naturally where actual translations aren’t super important. Like in River Grit, Billy overhears this little exchange between Goodnight and his childhood nanny:

“Ah c’est vrai, mon petit Bonsoir! J’en peux pas le croire!” she cried out and laughed as she embraced Goody. Billy realized with a start that he actually recognized one of the words: ‘Bonsoir’. Goodnight. (insert brief flashback of Goody teaching him the nickname) / “Ma Serafine,” Goodnight said with a laugh. “C’est vrai que tu ne vieillis pas. Tu vas me rendre jaloux, heh?” / Billy had no idea what Goodnight was saying, but he sure as hell recognized Goodnight’s tone for flattery, and it was confirmed when the old woman laughed and smacked his arm.

What they’re actually saying is: “Oh it’s true, my little Goodnight! I can’t believe it!” / “My Serafine, it’s true you never age. You’re going to make me jealous”. But it doesn’t matter because this fic is from Billy’s POV so it’s about how he experiences the language around him, which is why I wouldn’t have included a translation for the reader. If you understand it then it’s a bonus, but the words themselves aren’t really the point!

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

That lil Lord of the Rings fic.

19. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

Hmm for Mag7 I’ve always liked River Grit and love how it turned out. I also think Ashes feels very complete as a fic and I liked the flashback format. And while it’s not my favourite fic, in hindsight I’m impressed with the Kingsman football fic and how I had to write about 5 different soccer games and make them all feel different and exciting, and not just some variation of ‘He kicked the ball!’ I’m really pleased with how those sequences all turned out.

La fin! Not tagging anyone this time, but please feel free to do this if you see it! I love when people just take initiative to do these things without waiting for a tag (also please tag me in it if you do, ‘cause I love reading these things lol)

#shares #fontainebleau22

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imnotcameraready · 3 years

Text

more than beliefs (5: mother knows best)

A/N: still trying at this ! i still don't own any tables so honestly, writing has been kinda hard :') but i'm still up to a polished chapter 7 and know VERY well what is happening in chapter 8, so we're looking pretty good. i wrote all of chivalry chapter by chapter so.....hoping this goes well :'D

WARNINGS: manipulation, plotting a murder, paranoia description, blunt force trauma, assault, amnesia, blood, graphic description of violence — this chapter’s the first doozy! if i missed anything, please let me know!

Words: 4378

AO3 link!

enjoy!! <3

“Now, this might be a controversial opinion, but the second Little Mermaid movie is a top-tier Disney sequel,” the Director said, idly mixing a teaspoon around in his hot chocolate.

Roman scoffed. He was sitting on the Director’s couch, wrapped in a blanket while they watched 2005’s Just Like Heaven starring Mark Ruffalo and Reese Witherspoon. The Director had suggested they watch something from Disney, but while Roman loved the whole library of Disney movies lining his shelf, he couldn’t choose which one he wanted. To his surprise, the Director didn’t have a favorite, either. He’d said he was fond of the cookie-cutter damsel in distress narrative of older Disney stories, which Roman tried (and failed) to take offense to, but did agree that many modern movies like Big Hero 6 had interestingly complex and developed stories.

“I just prefer the expansion on oceanic lore. And I’m a sucker for a good parental storyline, when the former protag takes on the motherly role.” The Director took a sip of his coffee.

“And here I thought you weren’t one of my creative advisors,” Roman said with a smirk, crossing his arms upon his pillowy throne.

The Director scoffed, and as he rolled his eyes Roman could have sworn that he was blushing. Maybe he was embarrassed. “Just because I’m not David doesn’t mean I can’t have opinions on works of art,” he sounded dejected—Roman guessed that was fair. The Dragon and Damsel and Child, most obviously, had strong opinions on art yet no artistic inclinations.

It was still up in the air if the Thief did. It didn’t seem like he had many opinions on things that weren’t consequential to Roman’s direct safety, but he was very quiet. Roman didn’t rule out the possibility of the Thief just not wanting to share that information with him, which was….well. Unfortunate.

Roman wished he got to know his advisors better. Ever since they were separated from him, Roman feels like he’s been at the grinding stone with them all. The Thief had spent the whole wedding either swearing or screaming suggestions angrily, and when he wasn’t, he was comforting an incredibly distraught Bard. The Damsel and Playwright tried to help the most but... He had barely even seen the Artist outside of their creative sessions. He had barely seen the Dragon or Child, period.

The Director was an interesting one. Roman had everyone’s phone numbers, because, well, he wasn’t about to use carrier pigeons. Though that might be super cool to try one day. But the Director was just about the only advisor to casually reach out to him. He would send Roman memes. How did he even get memes? Roman and Remus had created an Imagination-version of the internet, so it was likely from their co-sponsored Imagination Tumblr or something. The Director putting in the effort and time to think of Roman during such small instances was what made Roman feel more comfortable here, though. That’s what made him trust the Director with these sorts of situations. Almost made them closer...

Was that selfish? To favor one part of oneself over others? Surely not. It was similar to recognizing flaws, or pimples and blemishes. Not to say any of the others were blemishes. Drats, even Roman’s internal monologue was demeaning to himself.

“Do you want any more coffee? I’m going to go refill,” the Director’s voice jolted Roman out of his stupor, and he looked up with wide eyes.

“No, I’m okay,” and after a small beat, he added, “Thank you again for housing me. I can’t imagine what Phillip would want to say after yesterday’s debacle.”

The Director scoffed. Roman snuggled into his blanket more, listening to the Director pour himself another mug and reply. “Anytime, Roman,” he chuckled, then put on one of the most outlandishly fake accents Roman’s ever heard. “I live to serve~”

“Sto-op,” Roman groaned, throwing his head back and shooting the Director a glare—well, glaring at the kitchen door. There were walls around all of the rooms here, unlike the Mind Palace.

The Director laughed even more when he returned, sitting on the couch with his legs crossed on the cushion. He held his mug in his hands for a few seconds before talking, tone much more sober.

“I do have to say. I’m surprised I was the one you came to.” The Director’s voice is a little more quiet. “I thought for sure you would have sought comfort with Cadence or Gavin before me.”

Roman blinks. “I guess….I didn’t want to be judged again.” He looked back down at his lap, at the blankets piled up there and his own coziness. “Every time I come back after an argument, or after making a fool of myself, it seems everyone has an opinion on how poorly I handled a situation. None of them really acknowledge….It must have been….”

He’d been a little confused about it, too. The trust issue.

“Janus has strung my emotions along enough for it to be fair that I don’t trust him,” Roman said, voice soft as he tried to put how he’d been feeling into words. “Right?”

That was as close an explanation as he could get to. Because it all boiled down to the trust issue, in his understanding of the situation. As much as Patton wanted him to let go of the situation, Patton was focusing on the mustache quip rather than the whole trust thing. Janus knew Roman had wanted to go to the callback. But Roman also wanted to be a good person, if that’s what Thomas wanted. Thomas wanted to be a good person so Roman also wanted to be a good person.

But when being a good person directly went against Thomas’ dreams, Janus stepped in. And sure, he argued that they weren’t supposed to be self-sacrificial, but wasn’t that a hero’s job? When did a hero ever get to keep anything before sacrificing everything? Isn’t that what made sense?

Janus didn’t even do a good job at explaining it, not until all the damage had already been done. This was different from just giving Roman the perfect set up for a theater display, this was Janus pretending that he wanted what Roman wanted. This was Janus pretending to be his friend but wanting Thomas to...be a bad person?

He didn’t understand. Maybe Patton was right. Maybe Roman just didn’t understand. And that’s what made his disgruntlement so confusing, because in his heart, Roman knew Janus was trying to help, he knew that, he understood. But then why did it hurt so much?

“Oh, honey, he’s gone way past that. Don’t gaslight yourself into thinking he’s been helpful,” Macbeth’s icy voice cut through the thoughts wrangling Roman’s mind.

The Director was so self-assured. It was comforting. He was sitting on the couch, arms crossed as he explained.

“And Patton, Logan, turning around just to say you should let it go and listen to him after he’s lied nine times out of ten?” the Director threw his head back and let out a sharp “Hah! No, your anger is rational. And defensible.”

“Why won’t any of the others agree with that?”

The Director starred at Roman for a minute. Just a little too long. His eyes seemed to press Roman into a corner, under a box. Scrutinized.

They both knew that “others” wasn’t a reference to the other Sides. The Director kept his distance from Roman’s other advisors, he knew that, but Roman didn’t know how far. The Director wasn’t the kind to just watch them, was he?

“They all have their opinions. About Disney and otherwise.” He took another drink of his coffee then shook his head, standing up, motioning for Roman to follow, “May I show you….something. Without you thinking I’m crazy?”

Now, that’s always a fairly worrying question to hear. “No, no, I trust you,” Roman said with a slight grin.

The Director must have been able to see how it waned, because he chuckled, smiled back. “I think we’re all a little zany. But that’s the charm. Phillip is undoubtedly the scariest, as much as Draco tries. The Prince, Damsel, whichever you want, has a noticeable villain complex.”

Wait, what?

The Director raised his hands in mock defeat. Showing his hands, like he were trying to assure Roman that he wasn’t being suspicious. But the hairs on Roman’s neck rose. He led Roman to the door just besides Roman’s room. When he first started visiting the Director, he explained that this was his study. Roman had never gone in. Because, you know, when you respect someone you also respect their privacy.

“I’ve only ever spoken to Marlowe, but, you know. I’m the Director of players I can never meet. I had to take notes,” he added the final part quietly.

He glanced over the combination button pad on the door. Roman hadn’t noticed that. What room would require a combination lock? And who would be….Was it to keep him out? Or someone else? Maybe the Playwright, the Director mentioned he’d been over before. Keep anyone out, it seemed.

“I….notes?” he was flabbergasted. What the fuck was happening?

“Yeah.” The Director opened the door slowly and motioned for Roman to follow.

Inside were papers. One wall was a large tackboard, photos and sticky notes and papers pinned up, connected with lines of colored yarn. Roman felt his mouth fall open as he inspected it. There were notes on all of his advisors, all seven of the others, even some of people Roman didn’t know. There was someone with four eyes. Someone with antlers. Who were they? How did this all fit together?

Why in Athena’s name did the Director have corkboard notes on the other advisors? That was a lot more than a little weird.

“I...You’re wonderful, Roman. So productive and pristine and princely, as you deserve to be. But there are some areas where you can stand to improve.” Roman was probably only processing some of the Director’s words as he rolled up his sleeves and pulled out a metal stick, one that looked oddly like a wand.

He held it in one hand, and suddenly it extended, until it was a pointer. The Director held both ends of it and watched Roman for a reaction, a response, something.

“I would have to agree,” Roman stumbled over his words a little, eyes still glued to the notes—there were some by the Child that read ‘Naive/Trusting/Problem?’—before he slowly turned back to the Director with a weak grin once again. “I mean, I might be pristinely princely, but those P alliterations don’t include perfect. No one’s perfect.”

“It may be an unattainable dream, but we’re well familiar with those. We can only strive for improvement! And when improving you and yourself, that means making changes to them,” the Director gestured up at the wall of photos, of the parts of Roman’s self, and smacked the Child’s photo with his pointer. “I actually only thought I would be reading these notes, so forgive me for any, er. Sharp language.”

Roman knew that self-improvement meant adopting new mindsets, but he had no idea that putting parts of himself into characters involved changing them as well, though it did make sense. Self-insert characters had to change if you were changing the self that was being inserted. Right?

If he wanted to improve….it made sense. He had to change himself, including the facets of himself.

“That’s fair,” Roman murmured, “Okay. These….You could take these notes to the other advisors. Surely they’d accept it?”

“At this point, I don’t know who would kill me faster,” the Director scoffed, then gestured at the Damsel’s notes, a cluster of sticky notes and drawings and photos of the Damsel at a well enough distance that it was closer to stalker-ish. “Phillip wouldn’t want competition. Marlowe agrees that he can be quite standoffish when threatened, and a newcomer claiming to be one of Roman’s advisors? Someone who doesn’t have his respect in a royal manner?”

The Director pointed to the Thief now, a even more grave expression adorning his face. “And Eric. Tell me you think he would accept a newcomer of any kind. Just tell me. Especially near Gavin. And the Child himself probably wouldn’t like me.”

Well, that sounded off. Roman leaned on the wall besides the door, back against his hands as he continued to inspect the wall. There were notes on the other advisors’ behaviors, their antics.

For some reason, Roman could almost imagine Janus or Logan doing this. It was something close to weird and something else close to endearing. Was that weird?

“Why not? Gavin’s pretty trusting.” Roman didn’t look away from the wall as he replied.

“In fairness, he might like me, but I don’t know if I could ever come around to liking him. He’s the root source of all our issues, especially our present issue with Janus, Patton, Logan. Even past issues with Remus, if I’m remembering them properly. What Gavin represents allows us to be easily swayed.”

That got Roman to look away, look down at the Director. He was glaring up at the Child’s photo with something fierce, which startled Roman enough. I mean, that was a whole child there. What would inspire this much hatred?

“Really now?” Roman wanted to know.

“He gets us to let our guard down. It’s at Gavin’s behest we take chances, but it’s that same honesty that leads us to broken promises, taking in lies like they’re candy. I don’t know what I would do with him,” the Director sounded disappointed.

That was a fair analysis. All of the advisors—the Playwright, the Thief, the Child, Bard, Artist, Dragon, Damsel, Director—they all represented different parts of Roman, similar to how the Sides represented parts of Thomas. In theory, they worked together. In practice, that was far from the truth, but Roman knew for his sake that they were trying their best.

They all oversaw different parts of Roman’s psyche, too. The Playwright, for example, was most similar to Logan in that he represented Roman’s research and organization, on a creative and egotistical level. The Playwright—Marlowe—could be trusted with knowing how many liters of blood were in the human body as well as every one of the Sides’ favorite karaoke songs, even the exact time and date they met Nico.

The Child was Roman’s belief, his ability to dream. It was fair to assume that that made him the most naïve part. Perhaps it was even a fair conclusion that the debacles with Janus were caused by what the Child represented.

Roman hadn’t thought of it like that. The last time he’d talked to the Child, Gavin, about the situation, he had seem incredibly disappointed.

He’d never stopped to ask what the Child was disappointed in, though. Was he disappointed in Roman? Or in himself? Did the Child know he was the one who had pushed Roman to trust Janus? Did….There was no way that this was….the Child’s fault. Was it?

“Huh.” Roman’s voice echoed emptily to himself. A pit opened in his stomach, something difficult to grasp. The root cause of his burdens couldn’t be his ability to dream. His dreams themselves, his hopes, his beliefs. He….he was the daydreamer, the creator. That couldn’t be a flaw, could it?

The Director watched him, but Roman hardly noticed. It was only for a few seconds, too, of stoic silence before the Director interrupted his thoughts with a huff, looked across the board. “This is quite a bit of insight at once. Maybe we should finish the movie.”

“Director?”

Roman and the Director both turned to the open doorway, the later slapping a hand over his own mouth immediately. With a flick of his wrist, the door closed quietly, clicking just loud enough for the both of them to hear. They also heard the Playwright in the living room, footsteps echoing faintly on the stone floor.

“Director?” the Playwright called out again.

“Fuck,” the Director whispered. This must have been an unplanned visit.

“What? We can just go out and say hello,” Roman said back, though his demeanor and body language spoke of worry, almost fear.

The Playwright was well known to be a pacifist. And the Playwright knew about the Director, knew about Roman knowing the Director. He was a little surprised to find that the Playwright didn’t know the Director’s name was Macbeth, but Roman knew the Director to be a man of secrets.

“He doesn’t know I….He doesn’t know you’re here. He barely knows we talk,” the Director looked around the room and pressed a hand to one of the walls, “Fuck. How are we going to get him out?”

The rock beneath the Director’s hand morphs into a doorway and he opens it. The Playwright was standing in the living room, close to the front door to the home. He looked up at them both, eyes widening when he met Roman’s. Before Roman could say anything, even think of something to say, the Playwright spoke with ease.

“Roman’s here? Thank goodness. Virgil’s come looking for him,” he gave Roman a small smile, strained but caring all the same.

“Ah.” Roman stiffened. Virgil came looking for him? In the Imagination? Why? How? He didn’t have his own passage into this space yet, how’d he get here?

He didn’t want to talk to Virgil. As supportive as he’d been, especially when it came to taking care of Thomas, there were still some areas where Roman wanted to be alone, wanted to process his thoughts alone. Virgil was...vindictive. Which was a strong word to use, but an apt one. Virgil’s distaste in Janus made it hard for Roman to form his own thoughts, which was why he often tried away from Virgil as much as Patton.

He wasn’t ready for that kind of confrontation, and the Director must have been able to tell, because he physically looked like he didn’t want Roman to go.

“I actually didn’t expect to find you here, though I’m not entirely surprised,” the Playwright must not have been privy to these feelings, glancing between the Director and Roman, shock still gracing his features.

“Really now,” the Director said, tilting his head, “Why not?”

“I just didn’t know Roman had met you, but of course, even I’m not as omniscient as Creativity himself,” the Playwright stepped closer, reaching toward Roman. “You have to come up, though. Virgil said everyone’s worried.”

Roman starred at the Playwright’s hand, unsure of what to do with the gesture. He knew everyone would be worried, on a baseline. Closed doors didn’t do well around the Mind Palace, especially his, especially after his splitting incident, but that didn’t mean he had to cater to everyone else’s worry. He was allowed privacy.

Before he formulated a response, though, the Director placed a hand in front of Roman. His smile toward the Playwright turned sour, lips pursed in a mix of thought and anger.

“He doesn’t have to go see Virgil if he doesn’t want to.” Roman felt some of the tension in his shoulder alleviate at the Director’s statement, as basic as it was.

The Playwright, on the other hand, didn’t seem to understand. He looked between Roman and the Director again, surprised even further by how familiar they seemed. There had been a fair amount of transparency in Roman’s relationships with all of the other advisors that there must be some dissonance to see him be so familiar with someone he hadn’t even expected Roman to know. Something about that surprise, the bait and switch, the lie, felt fulfilling.

“It wouldn’t be difficult to alleviate Virgil’s worried and tell him to leave again,” the Playwright explained slowly. “I’m sure, if Roman told him he wanted privacy, he would understand.”

“I’m sure, if Virgil could understand that, then he wouldn’t have tread where he shouldn’t. You can’t make him do anything.” The Director’s voice grew darker, hand unwavering.

“Make him?” the Playwright sounded so confused.

Roman was also confused where the Director’s notion came from, but it was validating to hear reminders that Roman’s decisions were his to make. But nothing in the Playwright’s tone was forceful.

For a moment, it seemed as though the Playwright would drop his confusion.

Until he took a step forward, toward the Director and Roman, with one hand outstretched. Roman didn’t know what he’d been planning, but he knew the Playwright wasn’t a sporadic man. He hated adding physicality to situations where debate and discussion could suffice. So, in hindsight, it was likely the Playwright was reaching out to make peace.

The moment passed in mere seconds.

He was taller than the Director by a noticeable few inches, so the Director bent his knees. He pushed Roman behind him with his outstretched arm, acting faster than either Roman or the Playwright could react to. The Director stuck his leg out and grabbed the Playwright by the fabric of his shirt, behind his neck. The Playwright, surprised by the sudden movements, tripped on his leg and let out a sharp gasp of surprise.

Besides them was the living room coffee table. As the Playwright fell, the Director redirected his head toward the table, shoving him away from Roman.

It felt very spur of the moment, and it happened in a true moment. The Playwright let out a scream, sharp and fearful, before his forehead collided with the edge of the metal table. He fell beneath it unconscious. Blood pooled at the Director’s feet as he stood back up.

Roman’s hands shot to his face immediately, as soon as the Playwright started falling, and he could only stare in horror at the scene. The Director, too, seemed shocked at his own reaction. He starred at his blood-stained socks for a little while, breathing heavy enough for Roman to hear. It must be the adrenaline.

“I,” the Director’s voice caught in his throat.

Roman watched. Just watched. The Director swallowed, turning around to face Roman with a mirroring horrified expression, eyes wide with surprise. “You have to make him forget.”

“What?” Roman’s voice was strained, almost a whisper, and he cleared his throat to repeat. “Excuse me?”

What kind of request….?

“If Marlowe remembers this, we’re fucked. He knows you’re here. He’s going to think I attacked him. I-I did attack him,” The Director took a slow breath, turning to look at the body on the ground before shaking his head—unable to look. “David is going to kill me.

“Make him forget. He can stay here. For a bit. We can figure this out,” he put his hands up towards Roman. “We-The other Sides’re gonna follow Virgil. We both know that. And, uh. Only Marlowe knew I was here. So we’ve got time to figure out how to, uh. Play this off.”

Roman starred at him with wide eyes. The past two days had been such a long mess, he didn’t know what to do. Physically, he could remove the Playwright memories. He’d be a blank slate of a character, only backstory. What would that do? The Playwright’s backstory was that he was the Playwright. He didn’t have some elaborate parent-death or chosen-one-esque story that he could fall back on. Poor bastard wasn’t even the one who had Roman’s memories prior.

But the Director was right, in a way. If they wanted more time to think about everything—the other Sides were looking for him? How did Virgil get in here? Why would he be looking for Roman, it wasn’t uncommon for him to stomp away from a verbal duel, why now?—then they couldn’t have the Playwright ratting them out.

When he manipulated the Imagination directly, his powers were red. Remus’ were green. It was distinctive. So when Roman sank down, put a hand on the back of the Playwright’s head, his hand turned red.

It blended in with the blood.

Roman felt vile. He had to do this, or else the others would find him. A quiet, dull part of his mind told him that didn’t matter but….he didn’t want to be found. He didn’t.

He pulled gently, as though tugging the thoughts out, and something glistened red and gold as he did. Then, Roman let it go, and it disappeared. It reminded him a little of Dumbledore pulling his own memories out in Harry Potter. Roman didn’t feel much the chosen one, either, though.

“There,” he said quietly.

The Director let out a soft breath. It didn’t sound like either of them knew what to do, to be fair. Maybe the Director hadn’t even expected this.

“I’ll….here.” The Director looked up and pointed at the wall behind the couch.

The couch scooted forward a little, enough for there to be a walkway behind it, and the room simultaneously pulled away from the couch. Then, a door formed on the wall. It clicked once, then swung open. Another room.

Roman stood still, staring at his hands—was that magic or blood?—while the Director leaned down to pick the Playwright up. The man hadn’t moved since being bludgeoned by the table.

“Under the sink in the bathroom is a first aid kit,” the Director said, voice stoic, taking the reins on the situation, “I’ll make him a bedroom and bandage his head. Then he can stay for a day or two. We must figure out what to do, about the other Sides and about Marlowe.”

That was fair. He’d only stay a little.

Dimly, Roman remembered that this was the Imagination, he mastered this world, so he could technically get rid of the Playwright’s wound. He could get rid of his memory and the wound and send him right back to his home, right back to the Artist, good as normal and none the wiser.

But….something in the back of his head stopped him. And the Director pulled him into the other room faster than Roman could overcome whatever clouded thoughts were plaguing him.

#chivalry au #roman #roman sanders #ts roman #sanders sides fic #clap clap clap clap #tw blood #tw violence #tw assault #tw blunt force trauma #tw amnesia #AND WE HIT ONE OF THE BIGGEST ISSUES IN THIS FIC #LMAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO THIS WAS THE FIRST CHAPTER I WROTE LKGJKHJGKJGH #marlowe goes through it #its okay he needed a cognitive recalibration

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