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matchablossomhcs · 1 year

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dead already // young mb in rome fic

The smell of rain on sun-warmed pavement. The shimmer of wet, uneven cobblestone in the yellow street lights. The empty beer cans crumpled along the walls in narrow alleys between houses painted in terracotta orange. The smell of cigarette smoke that always accompanies restaurants and bars open almost until dawn.

The feeling of being small and unimportant when faced with the magnificent beauty of monuments that once upon a time have witnessed insanely impactful events in the history of the human existence—the wars, the times of greatness, the joys, the sorrows. The columns of emperors, raised in victory, stretching themselves into heavens, their reliefs telling stories where the statues were removed upon the change of rule. The triumph arches, massive in stature, looming over passersby, the statues at their tops regarding the world from all the way up there, reminding the onlookers of the glorious, old days. The churches, with tall towers and long, thin windows when placed in the middle of important piazzas, or pressed in-between buildings with strong facades and heavy doors.

Kaoru didn’t know what to expect when he first landed in Rome, Italy—but it wasn’t…. this. The grandeur, the sheer strength of the architecture in the city, the impact of five cars honking at the same time, the fountains at every second corner, the plazas emerging suddenly between buildings and alleys.

He feels out of place. There is no order, at least not as far as he can see. People step into the streets between cars and ignore the loud, honking complaints, and they smoke as they walk, and everyone seem to drink wine for breakfast. Even the weather is unruly—it pours when the bus spits out it’s passengers somewhere in the middle of the city, and then stops suddenly, just when Kaoru finally finds some small store with crates of beer bottles stacked by the entrance. His phone predicts the weather to be somewhere around eleven degrees Celsius, but his hair sticks to the back of his neck and indicates a higher temperature paired with humidity.

His headset ran out of battery as he was waiting on the bus, and he now he wanders the streets with faked confidence, following the little, blue dot of the maps app to the address Kojiro sent him a few days ago.

New flat, check it out if you are free, the message said. Kaoru hasn’t seen Kojiro since he waved him goodbye at the airport four months ago. He hasn’t seen Kojiro since they hugged by the security at the busy airport in Tokyo, a gesture so familiar, yet suddenly intimate for no reason Kaoru can explain. He hasn’t seen Kojiro since he, overcome by a sudden feeling of utter loss and anxiety pulled at the ugly collar of Kojiro’s ugly shirt and kissed him, square on the mouth, his lips probably quivering in nervousness. He hasn’t seen Kojiro since he made a hmf! sound as Kaoru kissed him, and let out something akin to a whimper when Kaoru pulled away, hurriedly blurting out a last goodbye and storming off.

They’ve talked since then, of course. Their friendship has been built from the ripe age of three, and Kaoru cannot remember a time when he existed without Kojiro. They’re intertwined, whether they like it or not, and Kaoru sees Kojiro in his own habits, just as he sees him in Kojiro’s.

They can’t be torn apart by a kiss.

They can’t be torn apart by Kojiro moving across the world.

They can’t be torn apart by anything, and that’s why Kaoru saw the message, opened his laptop, and ordered plane tickets to Italy before typing out a I’ll be there next Wendesday, and the reference number of his flight.

Kojiro answered with some silly emoji showing surprise, followed by a row of green hearts, and the week passed in a numb anticipation, anxiety, and a surprising lack of planning. Kaoru packed the evening before his flight, pulling clothes out at more or less random, surprising himself at his own willingness to ignore his (apparently not so) strict principles of deciding outfits and folding everything meticulously after the rules of madam Kondo.

He doesn’t remember the flight, registering only sounds and movement of the masses at the airports, the wait for his bag surprisingly short, the bus trip at his destination surprisingly little annoying. He’s probably running on pure anticipation and adrenaline, and it feels surreal to finally be here, finally walking the same streets Kojiro walks again, the familiarity of a foreign space forming though the knowledge of Kojiro’s existence in this part of the city.

Another street, another flight of marble stairs with stupidly low, wide steps, more cobblestone and uneven alleys. Some old lady is leaning out a window with a cigarette between her fingers, and someone further down the street is laughing into their phone.

Kaoru watches as the little, blue dot of his position inches closer and closer to the final destination. If he was more of a romantic, more of a poet—if he was more like Kojiro, he’d think of butterflies in his stomach and the rosy flush of his cheeks as he remembers the warm timbre of Kojiro’s voice.

He isn’t a romantic like Kojiro, so he looks up at the dark sky and the stars, surprisingly clear in this side alley of slippery stone, and some ancient voice of an equally ancient philosopher he read once upon a time echoes in his mind. Something about stars and space and chaos put into order, and how their planet is but one of many, and how insignificant humans are, a mere millisecond on the clock of the world's existence. Maybe the philosopher isn’t that ancient. Maybe he wasn’t a philosopher at all, and maybe it’s just Kaoru’s existentialism showing in his numbing daze of excitement.

Stop worrying, you dolt, Kojiro said when Kaoru must have let his anxiety show at Kojiro’s announcement about going to Italy to study. If we don’t follow our dreams, we might just as well be dead already. Do something stupid and hope for the best once in a while, he had said, and Kaoru had scolded him for being stupid and reckless.

Yet here he is, a week after that stupid message, four months after kissing Kojiro in some odd spur of the moment, afraid of being dead already as Kojiro so stupidly eloquently put it.

A dog barks somewhere, a distant conversation pulls him out of his thoughts. Kaoru feels a bit dizzy from staring up at the sky, and he’s glad the alley is dark and empty and no one can judge him. He must look stupid, he knows, and even in his oddly dazed state he’s capable of scolding himself for maybe being a little bit of a romantic after all.

He walks past more ruins of those grand monuments, the spotlights illuminating old stone a bit dimmer here between buildings, the fence emerging from the wall of a regular building and into the wall of the next one. Kaoru stops to look at it—the ruins, not the stupid fence—and finds himself feeling small again. Someone stood in his exact spot two thousands years ago and looked at the building and didn’t know that Kaoru would be here, two thousand years later, and that they would be coexisting in some odd form of time and space and multiverse that right now is beyond Kaoru’s comprehension.

Somehow, he shakes it off. The ruins will be here tomorrow too, just as they’ve been here, in various states of, well, ruin, for two thousand years. Kaoru’s existentialism is also everlasting, albeit probably for a shorter eternity than the old building. The ruins and his crisis can wait. Kojiro, texting a gotten into town yet? clearly cannot.

As he reads Kojiro’s name on the message notification, the excitement returns threefold. It makes his fingertips tingle in anticipation, and his cheek flush again. It’s stupid, he tells himself, even though that romantic part of his (that doesn’t exist) is clearly stating otherwise.

Another street corner, another flight of stairs, this time down and a bit shorter. The steps are crooked and polished by two thousand years of steps (or less, Kaoru doesn’t know the history). The marble is chipped where it meets the buildings it’s nestled between, and it’s nothing short of charming. A fountain is spitting out drinkable water at the bottom of the flight, the proof of the ancient aqueducts still running, more or less uninterrupted, since it was built. The glory of those romans is shown everywhere, from that water, to those alleys planned by someone centuries ago. How is he supposed not to feel absolutely inferior among all this grandeur? How is he supposed not to be dead already, when the architects and creators and great inventors and painters and artists left such a huge impact on the world, and he is but a speck of dust in comparison?

The blue dot on the map reaches its destination. The door is wooden and heavy, and locked. The light above it shines weakly, and it’s too dark for Kaoru to read. Which is your doorbell? he texts, and fumbles with the flashlight on his phone, fingers clumsy (from excitement? from lack of sleep?). His phone vibrates as he shines the flashlight on the brass buttons, trying to read the worn labels. No “Kojiro” on there; maybe he hasn’t put up his name yet, maybe it’s his landlord's name by one of those little buttons. He opens the message from Kojiro to check the answer, and tries to find it on the doorbells.

He never finds it, because he doesn’t have the time to. He’s distracted by quick steps that run on the other side of the wooden door. He never finds it, because suddenly the doors pull open wide, and Kojiro’s frame (was he always this tall?) fills the space.

His cheeks are flushed, and his hair is messy, as if he’s brushed his hand through it too many times in the same nervous anticipation that is thrumming in Kaoru’s veins. His breath is short as if he ran (he did), and Kaoru’s breath hitches as if mirroring him.

“You’re here,” Kojiro says, and Kaoru doesn’t have any of his usually smart, witty answers to Kojiro’s stupid, unwitty questions.

“I am,” he simply says, meeting Kojiro’s eyes. They’re shining, like the wet cobblestone, like the once-golden statues on top of the triumph columns now illuminated by spotlights, like the stars that for some reasons are brighter here than back home.

“You’re here,” Kojiro repeats, and reaches out, and not reaching back simply isn’t an option. The chaos of the city, the planets, the universe, his mind—it’s all unimportant the moment he feels Kojiro’s fingertips against his. The feeling of being small and unimportant burns away under Kojiro’s amazed gaze as he smiles, almost bewildered, fingers closing around Kaoru’s bony wrist.

Suddenly, he is pressed against Kojiro’s chest (was he always this big????), with Kojiro’s arms around him, and he is anything but small and unimportant—he’s the sun, the ruler on top of the column, the lover of emperor Hadrian that has countless statues in his image and a city called after him.

And as Kojiro finally, finally brings his hands to Kaoru’s cheeks and kisses him, not hurriedly and half-assed like Kaoru did four moths ago but properly, fiercely, mirroring all the emotions Kaoru will never be able to put into words—Kaoru has never felt more alive.

also to be found on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43434849

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earthlostgirl · 3 years

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here I am again, writing fics. Inspiration comes and goes as it pleases

Date

Faye wrapped herself in the blanket and settled into the sofa with the book in her hands, a steaming tea on the table and a packet of chocolate cookies. She smiled indulgently at the quiet afternoon ahead and focused on reading.

She didn't need lifting her head from the book to know that Spike had just entered the room, walked over to her and leaned against the back of the couch. He grinned from ear to ear and looked at her cheekily with those wonderful dark eyes, and she managed not to lose her composure.

Even if he'd just come from working out and his skin was covered in sweat and all she felt like doing was licking him up and down. Spike raised his eyebrows smiling even wider, as if he had read her mind and she felt her cheeks catch fire.

“Today you and I are going out,” he said with all the confidence he has, picking up the cup and taking a sip of her tea.

“I beg your pardon?” Faye blinked in disbelief, watching as he reached out for a cookie.

“In an hour. Let's have some fun,” Spike set the cup down on the table and cracked his knuckles.

“What do you think, that I don't have plans?” She snapped, slapping Spike's hand as he lunged for another cookie.

“It's Saturday, and you're wrapped in a blanket with tea, no, you don't have plans,” he muttered, chewing exaggeratedly.

“And you think hanging out with you is more interesting than finding out what happens to Edmund Tully on his wedding day?” Faye asked pointing to the book.

“You know he never got around to publishing the last two?” Spike said smiling tapping the cover of the book with a finger. “One hour, Valentine, don't keep me waiting.”

And just as he had appeared he left, hands in his pockets and slightly arched over. Faye didn't plan to move from the spot. Spike was an arrogant and cheeky prick, if he thought that with his charming smile and a walk he was going to convince her he had lost his mind.

Faye went back to focus on her reading, trying to erase from her mind how good that guy always smelled.

After forty minutes she closed the book in outrage; there was enough death in her life already, to also have to suffer it in a novel. She hurled the book on the table and repressed a cry of frustration covering herself with the blanket.

...

An hour had already gone by, Spike was waiting in the hangar for Faye to show up, still not quite sure if she had forgiven him. But things between them had smoothed out and at least she was talking to him again. He was nervous and even though he'd used all the audacity he had to ask her out. Faye was capable of ignoring him completely, dropping him like a cigarette butt and deflating his ego without so much as batting an eyelash. Spike wasn't keeping track of the number of cigarettes he had smoked in the twenty minutes he had been waiting when heard heels approaching him, turned around trying to transform his stupid smile of happiness into a superb expression of triumph.

Faye zipped up a red leather jacket, which he had never seen before and looked at him with the hands on her hips. She was wearing black boots with a ridiculously high heel that made her endless legs look even longer.

“I'm merely doing this because the book is in a critical situation and I need to forget it,” Faye muttered looking at a remote point behind him.

“Whatever you tell Valentine,” Spike smiled, and she walked in front of him without answering.

Faye was wearing jeans so tight he was convinced that in some cultures were considered illegal. Spike had to restrain himself from pinning her against the wall of the Bebop and undressing her right there.

Spike had been asking favors and collecting debts to find the perfect place. In the end he'd gotten tickets to a place called Baghdad, which from what he had been told was the best place on Venus. It was virtually impossible to go there without a connection or waiting 6 months on a list.

They sat down in a booth, and Faye took off her jacket, revealing a black chiffon shirt so sheer he could guess even the most delicate lace line of her bra. He was incapable to hide a smirk at the thought that she had made herself so beautiful for him. Faye rolled her eyes, resting her cheek on the hand as she realized how he was looking at her.

“What would you like drinking?”

"Rum.”

They started an irrelevant chat about how hard it was to find good bounties since they cancelled the Big Shot. But the only thing he was able to concentrate on was the red of her lips, which was the same shade as her jacket and how the lights of the club reflected in her eyes as she looked at him.

So he kept talking not quite knowing what to say but delighted because she was watching him attentively with a smile on her lips.

Suddenly Faye cut her attention away from him, focusing on what was going on behind him. Her eyes widened in surprise, and she blinked in disbelief. Faye set her hands to her mouth to cover a smile that her eyes couldn't hide. He had lost her attention completely and turned around to picture what she was seeing.

On a small stage a naked couple was having sex in front of everyone. He was a huge guy, full of muscles, and she was an oxygenated blonde with fake breasts who moaned and screamed at every thrust.

Spike couldn't believe it, where the hell had he brought her? He looked around, half-naked dancers were scattered all over the room. Perfect, now Faye would think he was a pervert. That he had brought her there with some hidden agenda. All he wanted to do was take her dancing or have some fun.

“Where did you bring me Spiegel?” she asked with a laugh.

Spike didn't dare look her in the face. He was going to kill Stuart, was going to strangle him with his own guts and forsake him hanging in one of the gardens of Venus. In whose head could that place be perfect to surprise a girl?

Faye kept an eye on the couple as a third participant with more muscle than the first one joined them.

“That position must be tremendously uncomfortable for the poor girl,” she commented distractedly and placed her eyes on him, demanding an explanation.

What the hell was he going to say? That his friend told him that this was the most famous place on Venus? That everyone wanted to be here? That he hadn't asked anything else because he was an idiot? He move his hands to his forehead sniffling and leaned his elbows on the table trying to relax, his head was aching. Faye was going to tell him to fuck off. He didn't even want to look at her.

“We're leaving, aren't we?” she asked, and he couldn't tell if she was annoyed or if she was laughing at him.

Suddenly he felt stupid and furious. He got up from his chair without saying a word, gulped down what was left in his glass, grabbed his jacket and headed for the exit without waiting for her. Spike opened the door and heard the doorman say goodbye to Faye without missing the opportunity to flirt with her, and that made him even angrier.

...

They left that club, initially Faye wanted to make him believe she was angry, that it had bothered her that he had taken her to that place of vice and depravity. But just seeing how embarrassed he was, she was moved and decided not to joke with him. Spike was walking in front of her talking or rather yelling at someone on the phone.

Whitney had faked a fairy tale, introducing himself as the knight in shining armor who was there to save her. Big words, movie-worthy gestures and the whole love story. She had been so lost, so scared that she had believed him completely. She thought he was going to take care of her and love her, but he left her with a broken heart and an unpayable debt.

And now there she was, walking behind Spike Spiegel, who had few words and not many gestures.

Spike was a hopeless romantic. His whole history with Julia was proof of that, he wanted to leave everything for her. He risked his life for her, and without her, he found no sense in living. Julia had broken his heart, and yet he loved her to the point of no care to stay alive. Even if Spike denied it... if Julia were alive, he would have disappeared from her side without looking back. She was so sure of that it made her anxious, wanting to run away from him to avoid worse harm. Avoid thinking that Spike would rather be with Julia or that he thought of her when he closed his eyes and kissed her.

She was heartbroken, but Julia was dead, and she didn't want a ghost to take away the only good thing in her life. So she needed to believe that she was more than a replacement and that she meant something to him.

“Aren't you hungry?” Faye asked as he hung up his communicator and stopped in the middle of the street.

“No,” Spike replied grumpily, turning around to look at her. “But we can stop somewhere if you feel like it.”

She nodded not quite sure what to say, she didn't understand why Spike was so upset. Although she knew he was hurt in his pride, and she tried hard not laughing.

He walked beside her in silence, with his hands in his pockets and slowing his pace to match her pace.

“I know a place where serve wonderful pizza,” Spike finally said, stopping in front of her.

“Do they cook nakedly or dressed?” Faye asked laughing, trying to get him to smile again.

Spike winced in disgust and blushed up to his ears. She smiled, walked over and patted him on the back.

They enjoyed a leisurely dinner sitting at the pizzeria bar, not talking too much and watching video clips on an old TV screen.

“Shall we go home?” Spike asked, he was sulking, and it looked like his sole intention was to disappear and lock up somewhere to curse.

“No,”

Spike looked at her in surprise and remained silent crumpling the paper napkin in his hands.

“We'd better seek a quiet place to spend the night, do you want to?” Faye asked getting up and running a hand through his tangled hair.

Spike slipped an arm around her hip and pulled her to him, sighing he rested his head on her shoulder and mumbled something against her neck.

They arrived at a lovely hotel. The receptionist handed them the key, and they quietly made their way up to the third floor. The heater was on, and it was pleasantly warm inside the room.

She sat on the bed, so she could take off the heels that were killing her and Spike leaned against the small table in front of her, took off his jacket, placed it on the chair carefully and rolled up his shirt sleeves.

Looking sad and disappointed, he rested his hands on the table and looked at her as she massaged her aching feet. She got up from the bed and stood in front of him caressing his face carefully.

“You're in a bad mood, huh?” she asked in a whisper with her fingers in his hair.

“No,” Spike replied sharply.

He was incapable of allowing things go. When something didn't go his way, it affected his mood and the way he treated others. She caressed his cheek and gave him a small kiss. She ran her hands down his neck and gently began to unbutton his shirt.

Faye sighed as she saw the scar across his chest and carefully ran her hand over it. Spike crossed his arms behind her back pulling her close to him.

“Does it hurt?” she whispered.

“No,”

Faye could feel Spike's eyes on her, but she still didn't look up from his chest.

“I wasn't able to stitch you up,” Faye slid her hands down his back and wrapped her arms around him. “My hands were shaking so badly that Jet pushed me away, and he did.”

She heard him sigh deeply and felt how he closed his arms around her and kissed her hair. He whispered her name and cooed her in his arms tenderly.

“Will you tell me someday what happened with the syndicate?” she asked very softly, wondering if he could have heard her.

“No,” he replied using that sharp tone of voice that bothered her so much, she broke away from him and he sighed again. “You wouldn't like to know the kind of man I am.”

“I know the kind of man you are Spike,” she replied clutching his face with both hands and kissing his forehead. "The kind of guy who takes you to a club with live porn on the first date.”

He frowned and grumbled closing his legs to trap her between them, pulling her close to him again. He grabbed her firmly by the waist and looked at her with a serious gesture.

“It wasn't our first date anyway,” he whispered unbuttoning the button of her jeans and pulling down the zipper.

“Ah, wasn't it?” Faye asked curiously.

“We went out for dinner and drinks the night before we confronted Decker. The one who stole the trucks,” Spike slid the pants down her hips and she let them fall to the floor.

“We were working, we need dinner Spiegel, that wasn't a date,” she replied crossing her arms as he tangled with her hair.

“We ended up in bed,” he lowered the pitch of his voice a couple of octaves and a shiver ran down her back just from the way he was looking at her.

“It was never my intention. We were too drunk,” she stammered nervously, feeling small electric shocks where he placed his hands.

“It was mine. I used all my seduction tricks,” Spike gave her one of his charming smiles while he grabbed her arms and slid his hands up and down them.

“You're lucky I don't recall anything,” she caressed Spike's palms, trying to hold back the urge to jump on him and devour every inch of his skin.

“In fact it was my intention since I saw you behind that table in the casino, with your thin pink jacket,” he said, touching the buttons of her shirt one by one.

“Yes, huh?” Faye whispered in his ear while she caressed the back of his neck and felt his skin crawl. “What did you want to do to me?”

Spike chuckled, grabbed her ass with both hands and pressed her body against him, caressing her back gently.

“I wanted to bite you, lick you, touch you,” Spike grabbed her hair and looked down at her biting his lips. "I wanted to hear you scream my name.”

She took a breath and shivered as she felt Spike's fingers drawing small circles where her shirt ended.

“So what are you waiting for?” she whispered, almost brushing his lips, feeling the tightness of Spike's grip around her waist.

He gazed down at her with a smile laden with desire and without a second's thought, kissed her until they were breathless. Spike pulled away from her to catch his breath holding her face, still looking into her eyes, challenging her, asking for more, demanding more. Faye kissed him again as she finished removing his shirt and pinning him against the table. But Spike was stronger so without any effort on his part lifted her by the waist with one arm and carried her to the bed.

#cowboy bebop #spaye #spike x faye #spike spiegel #faye valentine #fanfiction

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theleafpile · 4 years

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Mazikeen and the Importance (and Frustration) of Sub-Plot Characters

Looking over Lucifer Season 5a and the frustration fans are feeling toward the writers’ treatment of Mazikeen has me thinking about the role of subplot characters. More than any other reason, Mazikeen exists in the Lucifer universe in order to be a foil for our titular character, and that is why when we see Lucifer rise, Mazikeen falls.

--- Warning: Spoilers For Season 5a ---

According to The Anatomy of Story: 22 Steps to Becoming a Master Storyteller by John Truby, there are four main types of characters that populate every story: the hero (or protagonist), the opponent (or antagonist), the ally, and the subplot character. These characters can be further differentiated by adding in second or third opponents, a fake-ally opponent, or a fake-opponent ally. The more complex the story, the more characters that are needed to populate it, and the more often characters change or overlap in their duties; for example, in Lucifer Amenadiel, Linda, Charlotte, Dan, and Eve flip between being allies and opponents depending on whose side they are on, which is usually determined by what they know and dependent on whose character POV we are seeing them from, generally Lucifer’s. From Lucifer’s perspective, Chloe can be an ally one moment and an opponent the next for the same reasons, and vice versa.

So what, exactly, is a subplot character? According to Truby,

The subplot character has a very precise function in a story, and again it involves the comparative method. The subplot is used to contrast how the hero and a second character deal with the same problem in slightly different ways. Through comparison, the subplot character highlights the traits and dilemmas of the main character.

Before moving on, let’s examine Mazikeen’s arching story lines over the years:

Season 1: Maze is disdainful about the changes Lucifer appears to be undergoing; Lucifer is curious and takes steps to seek out what might be causing it. She consistently goads and riles him up to be the Lord of Hell she desires him to be, but her actions have a way of backfiring and pushing Lucifer toward further emotional development. As a result, she teams up the opponent (Amenadiel) against Lucifer.

Season 2: Lucifer’s mother enters as the opponent. Maze maintains her stance against her as Lucifer begins to befriend her. Mazikeen begins the process of developing emotional connections (notably with Trixie and Tribe Night), eventually moving toward allying with the opponent to spare Lucifer’s feelings, but becomes a temporary opponent toward him when she feels abandoned/wrong by his thoughtlessness. When the opponent threatens those she cares about, her actions ally with Lucifer��s (predominately in saving Linda’s life).

Season 3: Mazikeen sets out to discover her true self away from Lucifer. Amenadiel and Linda’s burgeoning relationship threaten Maze’s abandonment issues. She begins to demand more respect and care from Lucifer and others. When she doesn’t receive it, she desires to return to Hell. When that is denied her, she teams up with the opponent (Pierce/Cain) in order to get what she wants. Her emotional growth prevents her from taking further action, and she is allied with Lucifer once more.

Season 4: Linda’s motherhood story line brings up Mazikeen’s feelings about her mother and subsequent abandonment, causing her to project her insecurities onto Linda. As a result, she tries to discover her identity outside of the friendship, culminating in a desire to have a relationship with Eve. When Lucifer treats Eve badly, Maze teams up with her desire to have Lucifer return to Hell with Eve as his Queen, resulting in their switching over to become Lucifer’s opponent. When Eve’s desires threaten Linda’s well being, Maze returns as allied to Lucifer and helps defeat his opponent.

Season 5a: in an attempt to distract herself from both Lucifer and Eve abandoning her and Linda’s focus on Charlie, Mazikeen works with Chloe in Lucifer’s stead. When that backfires, she lashes out and learns that Michael is masquerading as Lucifer. Though her anger at Lucifer causes her to contemplate aligning herself with Michael (the opponent), her ultimate refusal causes Michael to turn on her. When Lucifer’s return and Michael’s reveal about Lilith brings up her abandonment issues, she projects it onto Linda’s motherhood, attempts to reconcile her problems by imitating Ella, then ultimately decides to team up with Michael in the hopes of him giving her her own soul. When Michael goes “a step too far” in threatening her established relationship with Chloe, she turns on him and allies herself with Lucifer once more.

The fan’s frustration comes from Mazikeen’s story lines feeling repetitive, which they are. She begins and ends allied with Lucifer, but at some point switches to being allied with the opponent.

However, each story line develops and challenges her emotional/character-driven issues in the same way that Lucifer’s are developed and enforced. Lucifer, too, backslides in his development and behavior, but the difference is that he is the protagonist and therefore is unable to side with the antagonist in an effort to get what he wants, because that would make the antagonist an ally. When it appears the antagonist is doing what Lucifer wants--Mum leaving of her own accord and Cain dying--these actions are taken because Lucifer has won the battle he set out to fight, making him the hero victorious.

Mazikeen is, essentially, one step behind Lucifer in terms of character development. Her role in season 1 was most similar to his opponent, and from that point on she is relegated with “chasing” him. Lucifer has also projected his issues onto someone else, desired to return to Hell, desired to feel wanted and needed in his job, imitated a coworker, felt threatened by others’ developing emotional connections without him, and so on.

The difference between Lucifer and Mazikeen’s development, however, becomes most stark at the end of each season.

Lucifer wins, but Mazikeen loses.

How so?

Season 1: Lucifer saves Chloe and Trixie, is brought back to life by his father, and sends the bad guy to Hell. Mazikeen uses her one ticket back to Hell to save Amenadiel’s life.

Season 2: Lucifer’s sends his mother away peacefully, reconciles with Chloe, and decides to move forward with the truth. Mazikeen’s final shot is of her unsure and in tears watching her loved one (Linda) bloodied and badly beaten being wheeled away on a gurney.

Season 3: Lucifer saves Chloe’s life, exacts retribution on those who would harm her, and kills the bad guy. Mazikeen, drugged, bloody, and badly beaten, is told by Linda that emotions are hard and then apologies for her behavior.

Season 4: Lucifer is told by Chloe that she loves him; he returns to Hell to save the lives of everyone he knows. Mazikeen, after defeating the bad guy with Lucifer et all, is told by Eve that there is an emotional connection between them, but it is not enough to keep her around.

Whatever season 5 will ultimately bring may or may not be similar.

But why is this the case?

Truby continues,

The subplot character, like the ally and the opponent, provides another opportunity to define the hero through comparison and advance the plot. The ally helps the hero reach the main goal. The subplot character tracks a line parallel to the hero, with a different result.

(my emphasis)

Mazikeen is consistently denied her heroic, triumphant moment at the end of each arc, because Lucifer gets his. All her heroic triumphs are in relation to Lucifer, not her own character growth. As a result, her character is the most likely to slide back and/or side with the antagonist because nothing she does benefits her in the end.

Despite Lucifer’s arguments otherwise, Mazikeen is still very much his henchman, his lackey, his subplot character.

At their core, Lucifer and Mazikeen share the same weakness: they are fearful of being left by those they care for. Since they approach the problem in different ways, we the audience get to see the pros and cons of each. It is important to note that the subplot character is rarely also the ally, and as a result they are allowed to change between being allied with the hero and opposing him.

It is because of Mazikeen that we understand Lucifer. She is our comparative tool. Her character showed us more about Hell and its dynamics than Lucifer. She showed us what Lucifer could have easily been, and throughout the stories, showed us what Lucifer has consistently grown from. Because of her, we know how far our hero has come. By comparing the two characters, we get to see how much each of them has changed in relation to where they began and where they stand in relation to one another at any given moment.

Mazikeen’s role in important in Lucifer, but it is a subservient one. No matter what arc she is given, the story centers around Lucifer. It is the same with any other character, but because we compare the two more often, her pitfalls are more obvious. I love Mazikeen, but given the way this story is structured, she would be unable to be the protagonist and as such is often left bereft.

The writers can change this by giving her happier endings at the culmination of each season, and the best way for them to do that is to not have to have her crawl her way back into our hearts after needlessly siding with the opponent again.

Give Maze a true happy ending please! Here’s to season 5b, and season 6!

#lucifer #lucifer on netflix #mazikeen #on writing #lucifer meta

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dreamersleeps · 4 years

Text

Hawks and the Biblical Archangel Michael

(Another look at BNHA Vol. 27’s Cover)

This is my first attempt at writing an analysis/interpretation piece for BNHA and in general so please feel free to comment or add on to what I have written below. I hope I didn’t miss explaining something properly.

This post was inspired and influenced after reading through @/cutiesableye ‘s interesting analysis and interpretation of the cover of Vol. 27 which is linked here and looking at @/codenamesazanka ‘s post comparing the cover art to a painting called “The Fall of the Rebel Angels” by Baroque painter Luca Giordano which depicts the Saint/Archangel Michael defeating a group of demons (the original post is linked here). If we are comparing Vol. 27’s cover art to these paintings, then Hawks is in the position of the Archangel Michael while Jin is in the position of the demons.

By now, I’m sure that a lot of people are aware of the references of the Greek mythological character of Icarus in Hawks’ characterization. However I want to draw attention towards the possible allusions Hawks may convey with another winged figure: the Biblical Archangel Michael.

Despite the fact that Horikoshi is a Japanese author and that the story largely relies on contextualization that is based on Japanese culture, that does not mean that he can’t be inspired by Western ideas and faiths from outside Japan. When it comes to other Christian references, I think you can look towards All For One/Shigaraki and Ibara Shiozaki from Class 1B who have more explicit references to Jesus Christ and other Biblical references. If Horikoshi wasn’t inspired by this Biblcial figure, this piece or similar art pieces then please take this post as an interesting take on the cover. However I think this take on the cover adds to the narrative. There are some interesting similarities between Hawks and the Archangel.

After a quick search on Google, I realized that quite a few pieces of art of the Archangel from the 1500s - 1700s (not quite sure about the time frame) depict him triumphantly standing atop a pile of the enemy/demons/sinners, wings spread out wide, dressed in a red or blue robe and with his right arm wielding a sword lifted in the air, sometimes with the sun or a bright light shining down on him from behind his head.

Here are a few examples:

“Archangel Michael punishing sinners” by unknown Austrian artist (1700s)

“Saint Michael Archangel” by unknown artist (1490s)

So who is the Archangel Michael?

First of all in the hierarchy of angels, Archangels are those who are at the very top. The title comes from the Greek words “arche” which means prince, and “angelos” which means messenger and they fulfill a number of important purposes. I think which angels are considered an archangel is debated based on holy scriptures between the Abrahambic religions (Judaism, Christianity, Islam) however because the paintings above were produced by those who were of Christian and Catholic faith, I will focus on looking at the Bible. In the Bible, Micheal is the only angel who is explicitly labelled as an Archangel. He is an angel of supreme power and the leader of God’s army.

Based on the information I found online and from my own knowledge, the Archangel Micheal had four main responsibilities based on what is found in the Bible and in Christian tradition:

Combat Satan.

Escort the faithful to heaven at their hour of death.

Be a champion of all Christians, and the Church itself.

Call men from life on Earth to their heavenly judgement.

For this next portion, I’m going to try my best to show how they connect back to Hawks.

First, the Archangel Michael is the enemy of Satan.

In the Biblical “end times” which is depicted in the book of Revelations, it is written that Archangel Micheal will lead God’s army into a final battle against Satan and his fallen angels and be victorious.

A hero’s enemy is a villain and the villain’s enemy is a hero. This current war between the heroes and the Paranormal Liberation Front is happening largely due to Hawks’ role in infiltrating the PLF and the information he gathered. It’s a great clash between the two major forces BNHA society deems as “good” and “evil.” Although Hawks may have not led the heroes into battle but he played a major role in starting it. We have yet to reach the outcome of the war.

Second, he comes at the hour of death and presents a last chance at salvation.

During a period of time before someone dies, the Archangel Michael descends to those who haven’t yet connected to God and gives them a last chance at salvation before their time to decide runs out. He gives them one more chance to essentially redeem themself before passing. After the individual dies, Micheal and other angels escort those who are saved to heaven.

In chapter 264, Hawks says that he believes that Twice/Jin is a good person and offers him a chance to leave quietly and have the opportunity to have a fresh start in life, telling him that he’d even help him. Very simply put, from Hawks’ point of view, this is a ticket out, a chance to be “saved.” Twice chooses to fight for his friends and the LoV instead and dies by Hawks’ hand shortly after Dabi comes to intervene.

Third, he is the Guardian of the Church.

His name, Michael, means “one who is like God.” Throughout early Church history, he has been called the “chief of Israel” and the “Prince of all angels.” One of his major responsibilities is to protect the People of God. To protect the Church, Michael leads angel armies into battle against its enemy, Satan and his fallen angels.

This one might be kind of a stretch but I think you can connect Hawks’ position as the Hero Public Safety Commission’s tool to this role. He is one of the Commission’s valuable weapons, and they will utilize him in order to achieve a certain outcome. Hawks views himself as someone who has the responsibility of protecting others. In this case, his infiltration mission forced him to bear the weight of the safety of Japan’s population on his shoulders. As a hero he had a duty to protect and save.

Fourth, he weighs people’s merits on Judgement Day.

(I could not find the title, artist or year for this painting.)

In the Christian religion, the Day of Judgement, is the day in the future when all people who are living or who have ever lived will be judged by God. In the Bible, the Archangel Michael helps measure people’s good and bad deeds on Judgement Day. In art, he is also often depicted holding scales and people often describe them as the “scales of justice.” Going back to the war during the “End of Times” that the Book of Revelations talks about, the weapon that Michael uses to defeat the enemy is often described throughout Christian history and tradition as “the sword of justice.”

The subject of Twice’s death is a touchy subject and I don’t have the ability to carefully word what I want to convey but harshly written, based on the situation that Hawks was put in and after assessing the possible impact/outcomes of Twice’s role in future events, he makes the decision to kill Twice. He acknowledges Twice to be a “good person” but in that moment he judges him based on where his loyalties might lie and on his past/history. Hawks kills Twice using one of his blade-like feathers that he fights with like a sword. Another interesting thing to note is that the sub-heading of Vol. 27 is “One’s Justice.”

In Conclusion

The event portrayed in these paintings depicts a major clash between God and Satan, and ultimately what is good and evil. In the Bible, there is no gray area, only black and white. So if we take this into consideration, is Horikoshi saying that Hawks is the righteous, holy hero and that Twice is the evil, morally upside down villain? No.

If Horikoshi indeed was influenced by these paintings of the Archangel Michael and his enemies, I do not think he’s portraying the black and white themes the good triumphs evil message it boldly gives off.

In their post, cutiesableye points out that “In comics, a hero at the bottom and a villain at the top mean the hero is losing and conversely, a hero at the top and a villain at the bottom means the hero wins.” On the cover, Hawks is depicted at the top and Twice is depicted at the bottom. Then they ask an interesting question: “But who is the hero here?" I’d think that someone with no context of the story would find the cover to be somewhat ambiguous. Cutiesableye has a lot more great analysis and interpretation about the cover and especially on Hawks’ and Twice’s facial expressions and body language so I highly encourage you to go read their post if you haven’t done so already.

Anyways, back to the question: “But who is the hero here?”

Well on this manga page, Hawks looks more like the villain than Twice does. I think that grayness is what Horikoshi was going for. Both Hawks and Twice are gray characters. That is why so many people have their own strong opinions and interpretation about what happened between Hawks and Twice. Neither of them can be labelled comfortably as “good” or “evil” or in general, “hero” or villain,” and I think that is the point. I’m not going to go in depth about their character and morals but simply stated, Hawks is a hero who now has blood on his hands because he believed that the decision he made would save more lives and Twice was someone who was further categorized as a villain because he found community and family with the League of Villains and later died trying to defend them. However this grayness does not excuse any crimes that were committed on either side. It just makes the conversation more complex.

Another way you can portray this is that Hawks is not an angel and Twice is not Satan or a demon. Like you and me, Hawks and Twice are both human. BNHA is a story about humans and we are not perfect. Although we can show the best and worst in humanity, we can be very gray characters as well. On the surface level, you can say that the heroes represent the “good” side and the villains represent the “evil” side, however if you take a closer look that is not the case. It’s more complicated than that. Through the current (Paranormal Liberation War) arc, Horikoshi is really exposing the gray areas that lie between the black and white.

#bnha meta #bnha spoilers #takami keigo #bnha hawks #bnha twice #jin bubaigawara #mha meta #bnha volume 27 #hawks meta #luna writes #my post

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loverontheleft · 4 years

Text

The Honeymoon One

Or actually - this’ll be several “ones.” I’m at 10k words currently and not nearly done, so I’m going to post it a thousand words at a time, probably 1k words a day. I might even queue it up!

AU. Brendon x reader.

Warnings: So...we’ve (@beautiful-tragic-fallout) created a points system for smut. Also! The new decade brought us new scale items. Enjoy. 😘

0.25 for handjob

0.25 for fingering

0.25 for masturbation

0.25-0.5 for (mild) cum-play

0.5 for blowing him

0.5 for going down on her

0.6 for cockwarming

0.75-1.0 for sex, vanilla

1.5-2.0 for sex, advanced positions

3.0 for bondage, spanking, other kinks, or public sex.

This piece has a smut score of WOW ACTUALLY ZERO, and other warnings include language.

Word count: 1k

-||-

“You know that feeling when you’re walking down the stairs and you miss a step? And your foot sort of free-falls through the air and you know it’s gonna land somewhere, but you don’t know where? And there’s that sick feeling of dread and fear and complete panic because you could literally plunge down the entire flight and not be able to stop it?” Brendon looks at you over the edge of his wine glass. His eyes are bright and laser-focused on you. It’s the first he’s spoken all night, and this is the first weekly dinner he hasn’t canceled or just flaked on in three months. You honestly weren’t expecting him to show tonight, so you’re even more surprised when he breaks the silence.

“Yes,” is all you say. You leave the moment hanging between you, encouraging him to keep talking. He sighs and settles back in the formal dining room table chair. You lean forward and look at him expectantly. He meets your gaze for a moment but his eyes start darting between yours and the tablecloth.

Finally, he takes a deep breath and drains his glass in one swallow. “That’s what it felt like when she told me it was over.” It’s a heavy moment. Your face falls and you reach for his hand. He allows you to touch him for one moment before he shrinks away and sighs. “I’m trying to be better, Y/n. I really am.”

“Bren,” you whisper. “You don’t have to - no one is rushing you to be back to your old self. Really. Healing - you can take as long as you need. You were together for a long time. You were enga-“ you cut yourself off before you can get the whole word out.

“But it’s been three months,” he groans, dropping his head into his hands. “I should be better.” The last part is muffled as he presses his face firmly against his palms. “And the trip is coming up.” You wince. You’d forgotten. No, you say silently. You hadn’t really forgotten of course; you knew it was coming up. You just hadn't realized how soon it was. “I leave in two weeks.”

“Wait - you’re still going?!” You don’t mean to sound so shrill, but you can’t help it.

“So much of it was non-refundable. It’d be a waste of money to not go.” He’s silently pleading with you to understand.

“Yeah, but-“ you’re aghast. Waste of money or not, surely he sees how harmful this could be to any amount of progress he’s made in the time since she left him for her research partner.

He stares at you desperately. He’s tapping his fingers against the wood of the table and not blinking. He’s chewing his lower lip and his eyes dart back and forth frantically. His chest is heaving with shallow breaths. You’re not sure what’s going through his mind when he blurts out suddenly - “come with me.��

You blink once. Twice. “Sorry, what?”

“Come with me,” Brendon repeats. “I have two tickets. And there’s a second person for all of the stuff I booked.”

You’re avoiding eye contact and you pinch the bridge of your nose, trying to process this. “Bren, it’s probably all sexy, romantic stuff,” you finally protest, your mind and heart racing at the possibilities. “You don’t want me-“

“I can’t do it alone,” Brendon says softly. “I can’t bear it alone. You’re my best friend, Y/n. I can’t do it alone. Please.” He allows his words to hang in the air for a long moment. “Please,” he says again. His eyes are wide and innocent and you can feel yourself caving. “Y/n, please. You need a vacation. You work too damn hard and are underfuckingappreciated. You need a break. Let me give you a break.” He’s talking faster now. “It’s all already paid for; it won’t cost you anything. You’d be doing me a favor, really. Please. Take a vacation with me.” The air between you is sizzling with his intensity and you knock back the rest of your wine.

“I don’t even know that I can get the time off,” you warn him and he crows in triumph.

“You have easily eighty vacation days accumulated since you started there.” Brendon grins at you knowingly. “You’ve never taken a sick day. You don’t take vacation. That day trip to the beach does not count,” he cuts you off swiftly, seeing you about to protest. “Because you got a client’s deposition instead of getting lunch with me.”

“In my defense,” you say, “you did pick Hard Rock Cafe for lunch. I was smart to skip it.”

He grins. “You admit that you skipped lunch then?” When you nod, he turns to an imaginary judge sitting beside him. “Your honor, I move to acquit Ms. Y/l/n from work in two weeks for two weeks. Clearly she has met the qualifications for insanity and needs rehabilitation time in the form of alcoholic drinks and delicious food and total relaxation with her best friend in his time of need.” He nods solemnly and then turns to you. “How do you plead?” His eyes are wide and needy and you melt a little. He’s your best friend. He’s your best friend and he needs you. He’s your best friend and he wants- no - needs you and you do need a vacation.

“Guilty by reason of insanity,” you say with a laugh, giving in to his playacting and ruffling his hair affectionately. He arches into your touch, pressing his head into your fingers for more, and you silently will yourself to stay in control of your own feelings. “Commit me to rehab, your honor.”

“The court reporter records the sentence and it shall be done,” Brendon announces as he pulls back from your hair-tousling, raising his empty wine glass in a toast.

“Just-“ you have one last point to raise and his eyebrows go up. “You know I am not a good flyer.” You give him your biggest, most pathetic gaze and he smiles reassuringly before telling you that you can hold his hand the whole time if you’ll feel better. You tap your glass against his, praying that he doesn’t see what’s flickering on the screen of your mind.

#brendon urie #eventual brendon urie smut #my work #fanfic #brendon urie imagine #imagine #brendon x reader #brendon urie smuff

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kjack89 · 5 years

Text

Testimony

This idea popped in my head and I couldn’t not. This could easily be the start of something longer, a series, perhaps, if there’s any interest in me continuing it. And if not, well...the potential it sets up is sweet in and of itself ;)

ExR, Modern AU.

“Case number 246-01,” the bailiff read in a bored voice. “The State v. Enjolras. Judge Madeleine presiding. All rise.”

Enjolras stood, smoothing the invisible wrinkles from the immaculate suit he wore for the occasion, one of the ones his mother insisted on buying for him before she gave up on speaking to her son altogether. Luckily, his measurements hadn’t changed much in the years since and the suit still fit well.

Very well, if the looks a few of the women on the jury had tossed his way when he walked in were anything to go off of.

Judge Madeleine entered the chamber to begin the second day of the trial against Enjolras and took a seat. “You may be seated,” he said, glancing over the notes in front of him. “Is the prosecution ready to begin?”

District Attorney Javert stood, looking even more dour than usual, and it took every ounce of self-control that Enjolras possessed not to glare at the man who, during opening arguments the previous day, had referred to Enjolras as a homegrown terrorist who would settle for nothing less than the total destruction of all government institutions.

Which was hyperbolic even for Enjolras’s standards. At best he wanted to destroy a solid half of governmental institutions.

Maybe two thirds.

Public libraries could stay. The rest was on thin fucking ice.

Javert cleared his throat and Enjolras blinked. “The State is ready to call our first witness,” Javert said, and Madeleine nodded.

“You may proceed.”

For the first time, Javert glanced at Enjolras, something like triumph in his expression as he announced, “The State calls Sebastien Grantaire to the stand.”

Enjolras gritted his teeth as Grantaire swaggered into the courtroom, trying not to look like he was seething. He had known it was coming, but still — seeing Grantaire take the stand, seeing him raise his right hand to swear to tell the truth against Enjolras—

“Objection.”

Marius Pontmercy stood up, looking almost unconcerned as murmurs broke out in the courtroom. Madeleine blinked, looking almost amused. “You have an objection before Mr. Javert has even asked a single question of the witness?”

“I do,” Marius said.

“On what grounds?” Javert spluttered, looking indignant.

“Spousal privilege,” Marius said. “Mr. Grantaire cannot be compelled to testify against his husband.”

No sooner were the words were out of Marius’s mouth than all hell seemingly broke out in the courtroom. Javert was shouting something, looking positively apoplectic, and as the bailiff hurried to restrain him, Grantaire turned and winked at Enjolras.

--- Four Weeks Earlier ---

Marius looked unusually grave as he stood in doorway of the backroom at the Musain. “I have bad news,” he announced, and the general babble died down as everyone looked over at him. “There’s a warrant out for Enjolras’s arrest.”

Bahorel snorted. “Not the first time,” he said dismissively.

“Not likely to be the last time, either,” Joly added with a grin.

But Enjolras could tell by the look on Marius’s face that this was more serious than his usual brushes with the law. “On what charges?”

“Terrorism,” Marius said grimly, and the room fell silent, “in addition to making a terroristic threat and providing support for an act of terrorism.” He paused. “And a host of other things, too, criminal conspiracy, inciting a riot, assaulting an officer of the peace, and, uh—” He checked his notes. “Seventy-five unpaid parking tickets, apparently.”

Courfeyrac winced. “Oh, man, most of those are mine,” he started, but Enjolras gave him a look.

“I very highly doubt the parking tickets are the state’s highest concern,” he said dryly, before looking back at Marius. “They don’t have enough evidence to make the most serious charges stick, so—”

“Actually, they do,” a tired voice said from behind Marius, and Combeferre steered an exhausted-looking and evenly more dishevelled than usual Grantaire into the room. “I just picked Grantaire up from a Grand Jury proceeding.”

“I’m sorry,” Grantaire said, his eyes never leaving Enjolras’s. “They had a subpoena, and Combeferre told me that if I lied on the stand, he’d have Bahorel kick my ass.”

Enjolras shook his head slowly. “If you had lied, I wouldn’t need Bahorel to kick your ass,” he told him, a low growl in is voice. “I’m not worth that.” Grantaire snorted but didn’t contradict him and Enjolras looked back at Marius. “So that’s it,” he said tiredly. “Any one of us being compelled to testify would spell the end of Les Amis, and we all knew that going into this.” He straightened, squaring his shoulders. “When do I turn myself in?”

But Marius was looking between Grantaire and Enjolras, something calculating in his expression. “You have 72 hours,” he said slowly. “But there’s a lot that we can do in 72 hours.”

For the first time since arriving, Grantaire looked away from Enjolras, turning to arch an eyebrow at Marius. “What do you have in mind?”

-----

“This is outrageous!” Javert burst as they were ushered into the judge’s chambers and Judge Madeleine sighed, settling himself down at his desk. “Spousal privilege — assuming these two are even legally married — only covers privileged communication after the marriage, and Mr. Grantaire and Mr. Enjolras sure as hell were not married when the incident—”

“Alleged incident,” Marius interjected smoothly.

“When the incident in question,” Javert ground out, throwing Marius a nasty look, “took place.”

Madeleine steepled his fingers and gave Marius and Enjolras both a measured look. “Is this true?” he asked.

Marius shook his head. “No,” he said. “My client was married to Mr. Grantaire at the time of the incident. In fact, they’ve been married for six years.”

“Seven,” Enjolras interjected, before hastily adding, “Sorry, Your Honor, but I wouldn’t hear the end of it if I got the anniversary wrong.”

Madeleine chuckled and Marius smiled slightly. “Sorry, yes, seven years,” he said. “I have their marriage certificate right here, signed, dated and notarized by a licensed justice of the peace.”

“But not filed with the state!” Javert snapped, as Marius handed the marriage license over to Valjean, who looked at it with interest. “Or else it would have come out during discovery, and therefore the validity—”

“My client was married in 2012,” Marius said, “before United States v. Windsor or Obergefell v. Hodges. With whom would you have liked them to file their marriage certificate, when their marriage was not, at the time, legally recognized?” Javert scowled but didn’t reply and Marius continued, “Things have changed so rapidly since then that Mr. Grantaire and my client simply forgot to file the documentation until recently.”

Javert let out what sounded suspiciously like a snarl. “Then why didn’t Mr. Grantaire bring this up during his Grand Jury testimony?”

“That was my fault,” Enjolras said, apologetically, and everyone turned to look at him. “We’ve been — well, we were fighting at the time, for lack of a better term. And so he took it out on me by testifying at the Grand Jury. But he didn’t realize— he never thought this would happen.” Enjolras lifted his chin, something defiant in his expression. “We love each other. And he would never testify against me.”

Javert glared at Enjolras before switching his glare to Madeleine. “You can’t seriously be buying this!” he protested.

“I have no reason not to,” Madeleine said lightly, passing the marriage certificate back to Marius, who looked like he was trying very hard not to grin. “The state is welcome to continue its case against Mr. Enjolras, but you’ll be doing it without Mr. Grantaire’s testimony.”

Javert looked positively furious, and Enjolras let out a breath it felt like he’d been holding for weeks.

-----

A few hours later, Enjolras walked down the stairs in front of the courthouse, grinning at Marius and Grantaire waiting for him. “Wish I had been there to see Javert’s face when he dropped all charges,” Grantaire said a little mournfully as Enjolras reached them.

“It was a beautiful sight,” Enjolras assured him. “Where’s everyone else?”

Marius rolled his eyes. “You’re supposed to be keeping a low profile, remember?” he said, with somewhat fond exasperation. “Now you two get out of here. I’m going to swing back by Madeleine’s office and thank him—”

“He wants to go make eyes at Madeleine’s secretary,” Grantaire told Enjolras. “That’s all he’s been able to talk about while we were waiting for you. While you were busy almost going to jail, he was busy ooh-ing and aah-ing over some poor girl.”

“I was not!” Marius protested, beet red, and Enjolras just shook his head.

“Go,” he ordered. “I need a word with my husband anyway.”

They both watched Marius head back up to the courthouse before Grantaire turned to Enjolras, his smile softening. “Husband,” he said mildly. “I’m still not used to hearing that.”

“And I’m still not ok with this.”

Grantaire cocked his head slightly. “Being married to me? I don’t blame you.”

“No, lying,” Enjolras said, glaring at him. “I told you—”

Grantaire rolled his eyes. “That you’re not worth it, yeah, I remember.” He gave Enjolras a pointed look. “Thing is, I didn’t lie. I said not one word of falsehood in that courtroom, on the record, or anywhere else.”

Enjolras ground his teeth together. “A lie of omission is still a lie.”

The corners of Grantaire’s mouth twitched. “Barely.”

Enjolras rolled his eyes. “Still—”

“You are worth it,” Grantaire interrupted, something soft in his expression. “Forging a marriage license, lying under oath — you are more than worth it.” He paused. “You’re the only one that’s worth it. To me, at least.”

Enjolras opened his mouth to respond but couldn’t quite seem to find any words to say, so he settled for ducking his head and swallowing, hard. After a moment, he cleared his throat. “So, uh, how long do you think we need to stay married?”

“That depends,” Grantaire said lightly. “When does the statute of limitations run out?”

“Not sure that there is a statute of limitations for terrorism.”

Grantaire shrugged. “Ah well,” he said cheerfully. “Thankfully I didn’t have any better offers.”

Enjolras rolled his eyes again, but it was with an almost begrudging smile. “You sure you can handle being married to me for that long?”

“For the rest of my life?” Grantaire asked, with a breathy laugh. “I somehow think I’ll manage.” He arched an eyebrow at Enjolras. “The question is, can you?”

Enjolras met his eyes squarely. “Have you ever known me to back down from a challenge?” he asked.

Grantaire’s grin widened and he slowly shook his head. “C’mon,” he said. “Let’s go tell everyone the good news.” He turned away then paused, glancing back at Enjolras before holding out his hand, a small smirk crossing his face. “Do you permit it?”

Instead of answering, Enjolras took Grantaire’s hand and laced their fingers together, giving Grantaire a smile that was entirely too soft to be the ‘challenge accepted’ grin he intended. “Let’s go.”

#Enjolras x Grantaire #ExR #Enjoltaire #Enjolras #Grantaire #fanfiction #les miserables #modern AU #developing relationship #fake marriage #trial #crime

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mercuryriver · 5 years

Text

Silence

Word count: 2430

Genre: Fluff

Summary: So Loki always takes you on dates to god knows where, so this time you decide to surprise him

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Loki stuffed your hands into the pocket of his coat as you led him around New York. You’d woken up bright and early, your eyes practically sparkling as you got ready to bring him around the city. He’d been unwilling to see the city that he almost destroyed a couple of years back. You’d been begging to bring him on this date since the both of you had started dating. He didn’t understand. He’d brought you to Asgard on dates, and… well, he brought you to a whole different realm is it ever going to get any better than that? What was your obsession with this place?

“ Loki you’re going to love it, trust me,” You’d said as you pulled on your coat, a couple of tickets that you refused to show him shoved into your bag as you pulled him out. As he followed you into the elevator, he reached over lacing your fingers with his and he felt you squeeze his hand reassuringly. He didn’t really like to be surprised like this, but he told himself to trust you. After all, it was you, how bad could it be?

“ You know if you’d just told me where we were going I could get you there much faster and you wouldn’t have to freeze right?” He grumbled but he couldn’t stop smiling as the small pom pom that bopped on top of your head as you tried to keep yourself warm, hopping on the spot slightly. Actually, he couldn’t tell if you were doing that because you were trying to stay warm or if you were just too excited. You just roll your eyes before arching your eyebrow at him and he chuckled before pulling you closer so your back was against his chest as he pulled his coat around you.

“ Why can’t you just let this be a surprise?” You sigh and he chuckled before leaning down and placing a gentle kiss on your temple.

He rested his chin on your shoulder, taking a deep breathe of your shampoo, taking comfort in your presence. “ I’m used to giving the surprises love, I don’t like being on the receiving end,” He breathed against your ear, chuckling when you shuddered. The light turned green and you wiggled out of his grasp but he refused to let go of your hand, letting you pull him across the street and to the side of the pavement so that the both of you weren’t blocking the way. He grinned, watching as you pulled off his scarf from around his neck and the cheeky grin he often associated with you telling him about another plan to pester Thor.

“ You ready? Because I need to blindfold you,” His eyes widened before his eyebrows furrowed though he didn’t stop smiling.

“ Y/n I need my scarf-

“ Oh hush I know you don’t need it,” He watched as you rolled your eyes again and he sighed before leaning down. How could he say no to you? You squealed excitedly before you wrapping the scarf around his eyes gently before squeezing his hand, trying to reassure him. He followed you as you tugged at his hand, guiding him forward before he found himself stumbling up some steps before you came to a stop.

He felt you reach up to undo the scarf and he opened his eyes to find a huge white building in front of him, six pillars framing three gorgeous arches in the building. You looked up at him excitedly as much as he didn’t like to disappoint you, he couldn’t understand what was your fascination with this building. It was definitely a beautiful building, wonderful architecture, but he couldn’t understand why you were so excited.

“ Read the words Loki,” You sigh, knowing that he hadn’t figured out why you had brought him here yet. ‘THE NEW YORK PUBLIC LIBRARY’. His eyes widened and he looked to you and you could practically feel the excitement buzz through him as he started to grin. You yelp as he swung you into his arms, pulling you up and placing a gentle kiss on your forehead as he squeezed your shoulders.

“ I love you so much,” He mumbled.

As much as you knew that Loki would love the library, you weren’t exactly expecting to spend 2 hours in the library while he practically flipped through every single book there was in the library.

“ Your people have actually started a world war because someone was assassinated?” He chuckled softly and you rolled your eyes as he flipped through the book on the first world war. He insisted on going through everything chronologically, and thankfully, him being the genius that he was, he had already known some of it and skipped some eras.

“ Loki…” You groaned. “ We need to go, you said we could go after your ‘last book’-

“ I’ve almost finished!” He whined softly peering up at you from under his lashes and you laugh softly, shaking your head.

“ That was three books ago Loki we’re really going to be late for your next surprise,” You hissed, earning some shushes from other people in the library.

“ There’s another one?” His eyes widened as he gaped at you, the comforting forest green flecked with gold practically glimmering at the idea of another surprise that could match up to this library. He watched as an adoring smile graced your lips and he shut the book he was reading.

“ Can we-

“ Yes I will borrow the books for you and we can bring them home,” You smile, leaning up to place a gentle kiss on his lips and he grinned before an entire stack of books appeared in front of you and he watched sheepishly as your brows furrowed.

“ Did you try to steal these,” You sighed, saying it more like a statement than a question before he picked up the books for you and shrugged.

“ You know me so well,” He flashed you a grin that he knew you couldn’t resist, watching with triumph when you rolled your eyes and studied the number of books in the stack. His face fell when he saw the way you frowned at the huge pile of books. He groaned slightly, placing the pile of books down before he sat in front of it, listening as you explained that you could only borrow 50 books at a time and he had 52 books. He couldn’t apply for a library card considering, well he didn’t fulfill any of the criteria. Well, he’d just have to steal the books later.

He ignored the look you gave him, placing the two books back on the shelf and he knew that you knew that he was definitely going to steal the books, but you didn’t say anything, guiding him to the counter to check the books out. It wasn’t like you could convince him not to steal the books, and you knew that he’d return them… eventually.

You picked up half of the stack and Loki held the other half and as the both of you made your way to borrow the books, you watched as his eyes lingered on some aisles and shelves, knowing that he was definitely making some mental notes to steal his books. He watched as you smile to yourself, shaking your head slightly but he grinned to himself. He was thankful that you didn’t stop him and you trusted that he’d return them. The both of you placed the pile of books on the desk as you searched your bag for your library card.

“ Oh dear. Are you sure you are going to be able to read all these books in 3 weeks-

“ Are you doubting my abilities to read your petty history-

“ He’ll be fine,” You smiled kindly at the librarian, handing her your library card as Loki stared at you incredulously and scowled at the poor librarian who gave Loki a nervous glance as she processed the books you were borrowing. As soon as she was done, Loki teleported the books home before giving her one more glare and linking your elbows together and guiding you out of the library quickly as she gaped at the way he managed to make the books disappear.

“ You can’t just terrorise the poor lady like that,” You chided and he shrugged before following out of the library. You sigh, pulling him out of the library and taking a map and handing it to Loki, stretching up on your tiptoes to press a kiss on his jaw before pointing on the little red mark you’d made on London.

“ I just need you to get us here,” You smile and he arched an eyebrow at you before you felt your body jerk as your head spun and the next thing you knew, you were standing… Holy shit you were standing on the top of Big Ben. You head spun and you felt nausea roll in your stomach as you clung to Loki, watching in horror as you hung onto him, watching as the tourists below taking photos began to notice you and Loki standing right on the edge of the face of Big Ben.

“ LOKI!” You shrieked and he chuckled before you felt another jerk and your head spun, finding yourself on the ground again and you buried your face into Loki’s chest as you tried to calm yourself and prevent yourself from throwing up.

“ Sorry love,” He teased and you shook your head, trying to calm yourself.

“ You are definitely not sorry,” You groan and he laughed again before he gently placed a hand on your head, and your nausea dissipated as you peered up at him. You hadn’t seen him this happy ever since your first prank on Thor with him. You shake your head as the both of you started to take walk along the river Thames, strolling along in comfortable silence. The both of you noticed that you were getting some looks because Loki had threatened to take over the world a couple of years ago and him being plastered all over the media along with his brother Thor wasn’t helping him remain unrecognisable.

You felt him avoid the gazes, shying into your shoulder and his grip tightened on your hand before he finally came to a stop, facing away from the people walking by as he fiddled with your fingers and stared at the river in front of him. You turned, scowling at the person who lifted their phone to take a photograph and the man immediately put the phone down, jogging away slightly, glancing back at the both of you nervously. You turned to Loki and he was making that face. The face where he couldn’t help but feel absolutely dejected and guilty but tried to hide it up by throwing away all those emotions and pretending he felt nothing.

“ Loki…” You whispered, squeezing his hand and he merely faked a smile without looking at you and you leaned down, placing a kiss against his knuckles. “ You have nothing to be ashamed of.” You fidgeted uncomfortably. He hated talking about the shame he felt for almost destroying this world and the number of people he could have hurt. The number of people he did hurt. It felt like his insides were twisting, like someone was grabbing everything inside him, pulling and stretching it before crushing them together and twisting. His only comfort was you. He knew that you were willing to forgive him, and he knew that you loved him, and that was all he needed.

He smiled at you gratefully, wrapping his arms around you before placing his chin on the top of your head, trying to keep you warm. He took a deep breath as he closed his eyes and tried to relax.

“ Y/n I don’t really feel comfortable walking around like… this. Do you mind if I-

“ Of course,” you turned, placing a kiss on his cheek and before you could blink, a jet black cat was hanging off your shoulder, playing with the locks of your hair and you chuckled, lifting the familiar black cat and hugging it to you and pulling your coat around it as you gently stroked its fur, making your way to Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre. When you got there, you watched as the cat’s eyes widened and he looked to you. You laugh softly, placing the cat back on the ground as it turned back into Loki and he grinned at you, rolling on the balls of his feet as you pulled out the tickets for Macbeth. A tragedy, but you knew that Loki would appreciate it.

He pulled you into the theatre before taking a seat beside you, ready to watch the play as he placed gentle kisses all over your hands. Shakespeare may not be something you enjoyed on a daily basis, but you gripped his hand, leaning your head on his shoulder as you waited for the play to begin.

“ Y/n? Love,” You heard Loki nudging you gently and you blinked blearily as you slowly opened your eyes, finding his green eyes peering back at you with a gentle smile on his face. There were people leaving the theatre and he was simply sitting there, his scarf wrapped around the both of you as he waited for you to wake up.

“ I’m sorry,” You mumbled, guilt threatening to overwhelm you when you realised you couldn’t even get through one play you knew he’d enjoy with him. He tightened his grip on your shoulder, wrapping an arm around you as he leaned over, placing another gentle kiss on your forehead. The world spun and the next thing you knew, you were back at the compound, sitting on your bed. This time, there was no nausea and he merely sat next to you, one arm wrapped around your shoulders.

“ There is absolutely nothing to be sorry about sweetheart,” He smiled, running a hand through your hair. He continued to nuzzle his face into your neck and you chuckled. “ Thank you so, so much for today.” You smile as you swelled with pride at the fact that he had enjoyed your date. You turn your head, leaning over and placing a gentle kiss against his lips and you watched as he giggled to himself slightly and you smile. The God of mischief, able to hold infinity stones, known for his destructive energy, loved plays, romantic walks along a river, and the library. You held his hand as he sat there with you, a comforting silence taking over the both of you again.

#loki #loki laufeyson #loki fanfic #loki x reader #loki x you #loki odinson #loki of asgard #loki of jotunheim #loki odinson x reader #loki odinson x y/n #marvel fanfic #avengers #avengers age of ultron #avengers infinity war #iron man #tony stark #mcu #thor ragnarok #thor the dark world

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mythicamagic · 5 years

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Swimming in Silk - Chapter 14

Training in front of her, engaging her in conversation and now lending her his clothes…Kagome is starting to suspect that Sesshoumaru is trying to gain her attention.

Sesskag - Romance, Humour, Drama, Angst

Rated M - As always you can read this story on Ao3, fanfiction.net or Dokuga

Chapter One - here Chapter Three - here Chapter Five - here

Chapter Two - here Chapter Four - here Chapter Six - here

Chapter Seven - here Chapter Eight - here Chapter Nine - here Chapter Ten - here Chapter Eleven - here Chapter Twelve - here

Chapter Thirteen - here Chapter Fifteen - here

Vulnerable Visages ~

Sitting at a low table, Kagome leaned over a map, dressed in the clans signature red and white silks. Her legs were bare, the robes left slightly parted. Sesshoumaru sat closed by her side in only his white hakama pants, mokomoko sprawling around them. After quickly bathing, the two had thoughtlessly dressed before glancing over the situation.

"So you have alliances with a bunch of clans, but you need more in case they don't show up to fight. Sensing some mistrust there. Oh, you're on good terms with the Bears right? Aren't they already on your team?" Kagome asked, using colourful terminology to try and make the whole thing less tedious.

"Hn, we trade with the Northern or Southern Bear clans."

Kagome's brow crinkled, and she tapped her finger on the map next to a brown marker. "Okay then, can't you ask for help from them?"

"They do not fight battles unless the East and West join them. And they do not fight battles aligned with the Tanuki. If we want those Bear clans to join us then we must drop-"

"The Tanuki. Who knew Racoon Dogs could be so controversial to be buddies with," she sighed. "You can't drop them or they might close that trading route through that Dragon-ridge mountain path. Wow, I can see why this is so frustrating." She felt like pulling her hair out already.

Sesshoumaru gave a dusty chuckle, appearing far more jadedly amused by the work. "And that is not even counting the subdivisions of youkai in those lands that are not affiliated with the central clans."

"I think I remember a few of those from helping you with those invoice scrolls and messages a while ago. Those Northern Horses were nice, but the smaller clan from Eternal Falls really seemed to hate you."

He hummed, not seeming surprised. Lithe fingers reached out, combing through her locks distractedly. "Conquering lands through battle and massacre is so much easier than negotiating," he muttered almost longingly.

Kagome fought a smile. He sounded like a kid. A murderous, blood-thirsty kid. She then looked towards the mountains, further behind Edo's location. "Wait a sec, there's no alliance marker for the Eastern Wolves."

Sesshoumaru arched a brow, "no. Wolves keep to their own."

Quickly shaking her head, Kagome leaned closer. "I'm good friends with the Prince of that tribe. If you send for aid, Kouga will answer, so long as he knows I'm your uh...Lady," she said, cheeks warming slightly. "At least, if he's still around."

The thought of him also being gone weighed uncomfortably heavy in her chest. Kouga, please not you too...

The demon beside her inclined his head, "from what I know, he is Chief."

Blue eyes brightened. "That's great then! Ask him for support in battle, or open up trading- just break bread. He'll definitely respond," she grinned. Sesshoumaru hummed, placing a pending marker on the wolf tribe area. Kagome wrote down the names of various tribes, clans and associates they could also contact. "There's the Hyakkikoumori on this shore, I hear that Shiori gained some followers and leads them. Oh, and this is where we met-"

She rambled a little, but Sesshoumaru listened, able to imagine her adventures vividly since she painted vibrant pictures of them. He could tell from her enthusiasm that she spoke not out of nervousness, but happiness. His claws flexed through the dark strands that fell down her back. Kagome blushed and got the picture to refocus, though he did not chastise her.

They then lost themselves in work for a time, until Kagome touched a lone red and white marker on the map.

"These are your forces," she murmured, noting the distance between it and the Western Stronghold. "What are they doing so far from the main House?"

"Guarding Bokuseno," he replied in low tones.

Her heart skipped a beat. "H-how many are guarding him?"

"20." He blinked when her jaw hung open. "...Too few?"

"Too many!" She squeaked with exasperation.

"This one has plenty of troops on stand by here, I see no issue."

"You've already stationed some with the Foxes," her voice became thin. Where Shippo is.

Her heart warmed at the realisation, despite herself. Looking at him, she noticed his mouth had thinned into a firm, grim line. "This one will not risk your elixir being lost before I can claim it."

He won't risk my ticket to immortality being lost. Kagome eased closer, reaching up and pressing her lips to a striped cheek. He exhaled, blinking, but she only offered a smile. "You're really sweet, but...at least lower it to 5 guards?"

"15."

"10 then," she grit out.

"Done." He had no actual plans to follow through with their agreement, however.

Kagome narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously. "Mhm. I'm sure General Kaito will be more than happy to tell me if his soldiers still haven't moved from guarding a tree."

Golden eyes narrowed. "He has been loyal and respectful since that stint 30 years ago. I am confident he would not question me, even though he does not know the tree's use."

She rose a brow, shifting to sit on his lap for no particular reason other than she wanted to. Leaning back into his warm bare chest, she lazed her legs over his crossed ones. "Speaking of... He told me that there was a barrier over the Western Stronghold, but now its broken? What happened?"

Sesshoumaru hummed, pulling her closer and using the hollow of her shoulder as a chin rest. "Humans came, thirsty for revenge. Apparently one of their men had been killed by someone of my House. Others joined their cause, who were survivors of armies I decimated in the past. It seems they all banded together in their hatred. We triumphed but they succeeded in breaking the barrier. A few escaped our wrath, which has led to this unrest and bad blood."

Kagome thought for a moment. "Sesshoumaru... If I told you who killed that human who started this mess, would it help anything?" She asked carefully, trusting he wouldn't explode with questions or anger.

Pale lashes lowered, "I suspect I know who it was, and it would be best if you do not say."

Her brows drew together, but she nodded with understanding. Generals like Kaito were probably sorely needed in these times, especially for morale. Kagome felt her mate relax behind her, hearing his breathing become quieter. She patted his hands that were resting on her stomach.

"Time for sleep, my Lord," she murmured, shifting off and gently guiding him toward the pile of awaiting furs. His hand encircled her wrist, tugging her down and moving so that she was trapped beneath him.

"I have little need for rest. It would be wasted hours," his voice came low. "The bed has been far too cold without you."

Kagome smiled, hands sliding over his ears to brush the pointed tips. "Don't be stubborn-"

"You are forbidden to leave," he cut her off, pressing hard kisses to her neck. "Understood?"

Her smile became tremulous. Surely he understood that she never wanted to go? His hands glided over her body, and Kagome shuddered, before his head dropped to her shoulder, the kisses slowing. His muscles slackened. Tired eyes had dropped shut, obviously struggling to stay conscious.

Kagome huffed and wrapped her arms around him, shifting him so that he wasn't squishing her and sliding her fingers through the long strands of silver. "Sleep, Mr. Fancy Feet," she said gently, but with an undercurrent of firmness. He must have been pushing himself to stay awake all this time.

His breathing evened out, body weighing more heavily onto the side of hers. Kagome stared at the ceiling above. Remembering her conversation with Shippo, she breathed out uneasily.

She had to say it, just once, out loud. Then she could lay the subject to rest unless it actually occurred. "You know if...the bed is too cold while I'm gone, you can-" she swallowed. "You can hold someone else, to keep you warm." The words came slow, worming their way out of her insidiously. "And if she turned out to be someone who can make you happier than I can- if you liked her...I-I would..."

Behind...

Her heart thundered with distress. "I would wish nothing but the best for you. I would wish for your happiness."

I'd be left behind-

Nothing but quiet breaths answered her, but that was alright. Because Kagome was not brave enough to say them to a conscious Sesshoumaru. He'd be angry if he heard them, she was certain. He'd wonder if she doubted him- which she didn't. But somehow, losing him had become her worst fear. Her only anchor in the storm of confusion. She was supposed to worry about finding a job. Her education. Being his Lady. What to buy him for his birthday- not whatever this had become. Worrying about not being there for a lonely demon.

She turned her head and looked at the low desk. It looked so busy. She could imagine him in his chambers, spending day after day working. Maybe he'd take breaks. But it wasn't like he socialised. No, her demon probably just opened the sliding doors to let the breeze in and call it 'getting fresh air.'

Kagome stroked the crown of his head, biting her lip.

Even in sleep, he seemed to sense her emotions, letting out a soft rumble from his chest. Lips mindlessly pressed to her shoulder, arms holding tighter. A part of the miko felt possessiveness take hold of her, the bitemarks pulsing on her shoulder. Like his presence lingered inside the scars, snarling at the notion of being separated.

"Foolish, mule-headed wench..." he sighed, words slightly muffled.

Kagome arched a brow. He hadn't called her that in a while. She'd graduated from wench, to miko, to her real name over time. Are you dreaming about something from years ago?

Smiling gently, Kagome rested her cheek against the top of his head, breathing out slowly and drifting off. That's enough...that's enough worrying now. I'm yours for as long as you want me.

After a few days spent on further organisation, Sesshoumaru had dragged himself in a foul mood to a war meeting. Naturally, he understood it was pivotal to their success but it hadn't stopped him from claiming Kagome twice in one morning.

Kagome padded across the courtyard, tugging at her clothes. The dumb Lord had left too many hickeys and marks. It felt like the material caught on her raised skin. Turn about was fair play though.

Smirking to herself, Kagome paid a visit to Ah-Un in the stables, picturing the hickey on the nape of Sesshoumaru's neck that was hidden by the heavy fall of hair.

Patting the dragon's hide and giggling when Un nudged her insistently for food, she heard a small gasp.

Turning on her heel, she spotted a small face peering out from behind an open stable door. Small deer horns were visible, sprouting from a nest of dishevelled brown hair. Kagome smiled and knelt down.

"Hi, don't be afraid," she said amiably. "I'm Kagome, what's your name?"

"You're human," the boy grimaced, shying further away.

Shock thrummed through her, a bubble bursting. He continued to glare at her distrustfully, "Mama said we're being moved from the Western Lands soon. Humans are coming, humans like you-"

"Not like me," she said gently. "I'd never hurt you. Not every human hates demons, I promise."

"Mama said not to trust humans. They're all liars."

Sitting back on her heels, she thought for a moment. "Hm. You know I don't think I've ever really been scared of all demons as a whole species. I became really good friends with a Hanyou and mated a full demon, but that doesn't mean there aren't evil or mean ones. Have other demons ever been mean to you?"

"Mn...my friends, sometimes." He allowed, voice cautious.

"See? It's similar. So, maybe just try and see humans the same way. I know it's hard. They're probably a scary threat you've only ever heard bad things about, and I'm sure they've hurt a lot of your family members. But...this human would like to be your friend, at least."

Seeing no answer forthcoming and not wanting to confuse him, Kagome stood. Turning on her heel, she smiled to show there weren't any hard feelings.

Leaving, she absentmindedly passed a hand over her eyes, sighing. She supposed that kind of prejudice was only natural if her species were now actively trying to wipe demons off the map. Maybe she shouldn't have said anything. Hearing shouts, she blinked and raised her head, wandering across the courtyard. Bypassing the barracks, she continued on to where the troops usually trained in combat, seeing a crowd had formed around one of the sparring rings.

"Gah!"

Oh no. She knew that voice from the grunt of frustration alone. Squeezing between two beefy soldiers, she forced her way to the side of the ring, placing her hands on the fence and gaping as Inuyasha grappled with Kaito.

The two had dug their bare heels into the dirt, trying to throw the other's weight. The soldiers all shouted, calling out encouragement to their General. Kaito's body shook with effort as he pushed forward- sending Inuyasha back until the Hanyou snarled, abandoning his hold to hit him in the ribs. Hands-free, Kaito punched him in the jaw. Inuyasha's head snapped to the side and he swayed.

Kagome frowned as she noticed the state of their bodies. They'd obviously been at this for a while. Blood coated Inuyasha's upper lip. He was shirtless, and she noticed his red sweater had been placed by the ringside with his sneakers.

"He's going to lose. Hand-to-hand combat without claws is too tricky for a Hanyou."

Glancing down at her side, she noticed the deer-boy from the stables had joined her, watching the fight.

"You don't know that," she muttered.

The shouts around them became deafening. "Get the Hanyou! Get the Hanyou!"

Another few hits made half-demon blood be shed into the air, only seeming to invigorate the crowd. Gritting her teeth, Kagome decided she'd had enough. Lifting her foot and standing on the lower fence, she cupped her hands to her mouth. "YOU CAN DO IT, INUYASHA! Beat that guy! Make him sorry!"

The soldiers quieted and she sensed their stares, but she didn't stop cheering, raising her fist and shaking it. The deer-demon at her side gaped. Inuyasha's ears twitched once- dodging the other fist that came swinging his way. Dropping back, Inuyasha landed on his palm, swinging his legs through the air and landing a kick directly into Kaito's throat.

The General wheezed, staggering back. Inuyasha swung himself up to land on his feet, hitting several times in succession and finally kicking his opponent's feet out from under him. Kaito landed in the dirt on his side, kicking up dust.

Everything lapsed into silence. Inuyasha breathed heavily, staring with wide eyes. Kagome grinned and cheered loudly, waving her arms. A slow clap joined her cheering, and she paused.

Looking up at the balcony a ways from the ring but within view, Inukimi stood, smiling with amusement.

Kagome smiled and glanced back at Inuyasha in time to notice him offer a hand to Kaito. The General stood on his own, brushing by him without a word. Wincing, she slowly sobered, offering a weak smile when her friend glanced over. The worst part, she decided, was that he seemed far too used to the reaction. The soldiers all muttered amongst themselves, dispersing from the ring. A few bowed to her, but Kagome couldn't exactly appreciate it.

"Hisao! Hisao," a voice called out.

The deer-demon at her side turned as Chiyo raced over, taking him by the shoulder and bowing deeply to Kagome. "I-I'm so sorry, My Lady. I hope my son wasn't being a bother."

"O-oh, no, of course not." She forced a smile. 'Mama said not to trust humans,' hadn't that been what the boy had said? It...hurt a little to think Chiyo also saw her that way. Kagome glanced at Hisao, "we were just watching the fight together."

"Mhm! Mama, that Hanyou beat General Kaito! It was really amazing," he breathed. The boy then quieted, as though realising what he'd said. "Well...a little amazing, a-anyway."

Chiyo laughed nervously, and Kagome smiled, dismissing her before the servant fainted from nerves.

Turning back to Inuyasha once they were gone, she sighed. "You can't go very long without giving me a heart attack, can you?"

"Shaddap, I was gettin' restless. We've been hanging around here for days. That bastard better let us go to the village tonight."

"This one did agree to it, did I not, Inuyasha?" A familiar silky voice reached her ears.

The Hanyou glared, crossing his arms. "Decided to show your ugly face, huh?"

"Indeed. Yours is worse than usual, or do I usually overlook the hideous crookedness of your nose?" Sesshoumaru arched a brow, stopping by her side.

"Girls, girls, you're both pretty." Kagome sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "The New Moon is tonight, right Inuyasha? So we can start heading out towards the village in the late afternoon."

"Not alone, this one is coming with you."

She looked up at him sharply, heart skipping a beat. "But it's dangerous without a disguise."

His eyes had turned hard. "That is my condition. Take it or leave it. This one refuses to hide the marks of my clan."

"Tch," Inuyasha tossed his head but didn't argue.

Kagome sighed, nodding with acceptance.

Far off in the distance, lanterns were starting to be lit, appearing as small orbs of light. From where they stood on a few thick tree branches, Kagome could see that the tiny village she once knew had expanded, spreading further than she'd anticipated. It now resembled a respectable feudal town.

Kagome exhaled, trying to form the words, but Inuyasha's small, gravelly voice beat her to it.

"It's...changed so much."

She looked at him, brows together when she noticed the stricken expression on his face. His eyes were wide, breathing escalating. The dark hair that now fell into his lashes only made him appear paler. He always seemed more vulnerable and open as a human. Reaching out, she took his frozen hand in her own and squeezed.

Sesshoumaru stared at the village without expression, as though he'd gotten used to the sight.

"I uh...I wanna go closer," Inuyasha muttered quietly.

Kagome shared a look with Sesshoumaru. He subtly seemed to tense when her eyes hardened.

"No," his voice became steel. "He may, but you-"

"I'll be fine. It's not like they'll know I'm yours unless they see the mark," she soothed but refused to back down. She was going.

Golden eyes narrowed, shifting to the village once more, as though considering. Inuyasha didn't wait, instead lowering himself from the tree-branch and dropping to the floor. Once straightened, he padded away into the night-drenched forest.

"Inuyasha," she called with concern, gracelessly trying to climb down the same way. She dropped, landing like a retired gymnast and definitely pulling a muscle. Hurrying after the dark-haired boy, she glanced over her shoulder at the branch, finding it empty.

After catching up with Inuyasha, she stole glances at him until they broke the edge of the treeline. The village up close looked far more developed than Kagome had been willing to admit. The orange glow coming through the windows lit their way as they padded through. The pathways hadn't changed much, but the number of houses felt slightly staggering. The roof-work had become more intricate, the structures of the huts becoming impressive little houses.

"Are you okay?" Kagome asked quietly.

Inuyasha grunted, dark eyes swinging around at the unfamiliar sights. His nose twitched. If he had his dog ears back, she figured they'd be flattened. A few men lifting goods from a wagon paused to look at them.

"Uh, hello," Kagome greeted with a small wave when their gazes become wary. "We're travellers. We were just looking for a place to stay for the nigh-"

"Keep moving, strangers."

She blinked at the gruff dismissal. It felt a little like a slap in the face, though she should have expected it. Edo had just always felt like a place they'd be welcomed. Inuyasha sneered, automatically groping for his sword- which wasn't there. He seemed to forget that detail often.

"You wanna explain why? We got as much right to be here as you, if not more." He growled.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

When one of the men started to inch toward his sickle propped against the wall, Kagome quickly grasped Inuyasha's arm. "Nothing at all~ we'll be going now. Sorry for the trouble," she beamed. Pushing him away, she ignored his protests, glancing at the tense men.

They didn't stop until they reached the border of the village, where Kagome breathed a sigh of relief. "Was it just me, or did the whole place feel tense?"

"Tch, usually happens to places that have been hit bad by bandits. Guess that's why," Inuyasha grumbled. He padded out of her reach, folding his arms while glaring at his red sneakers. "If I'd stayed here, I coulda protected them."

"It's not your fault-"

"I know," he cut in bitterly. "I know exactly who to blame. Bastard," harrowed eyes squeezed shut. "But it doesn't do me any good now, does it? So...I'm gonna save this punch," he curled his hand into a fist. "And I'm gonna deliver it to him one day. For doin' this to me, to us. Ripping us away from Sango and Miroku. But...for now anyway..."

Kagome listened quietly, easing forward and placing her hands on his shaking fist. "Do you want to see them?" She asked softly.

Startled, he quickly glanced at her. Giving a quiet huff, he nodded silently, not trusting his voice.

The graves still appeared to be in good shape. She wondered who attended to them now that Kohaku had probably passed. Laying some flowers down for her friends, Kagome smoothed her clothes as she straightened.

A slight breeze tugged at Inuyasha's dark hair, hand's balled into fists. She could practically taste all the emotions welling up inside him. Placing her hand on his tense shoulder, she leaned in and hugged him. The Hanyou hid his face in her hair, trembling a little as his fists remained at his sides. They gradually unfurled, and he embraced her fully.

They stood for a long while, and she felt every shake and tremor in his frame. Knowing he probably needed to let it out- and he clearly wasn't doing that with her there, she patted his black hair.

"I'm gonna go for a short walk, okay?" Kagome murmured. Pulling away, she noticed him duck his head sharply, hiding his eyes. "Take your time," she added gently.

"Yeah, whatever," he cleared his throat, tenuous voice wobbling until he gave a harsh cough.

Kagome smiled weakly, squeezing his shoulder once more before padding off, leaving him alone by the graves.

Venturing away into the cover of the trees, she navigated instinctively through Inuyasha's Forest. Heading toward Rin's grave and only stumbling a few times, she set her hand on a tree once she reached a clearing. The grass was bathed in the slight light cast off the new moon. Her eyes were naturally drawn to the heavy fall of silver hair soon enough.

"What are you doing here?" She whisper-hissed, hurrying over to Sesshoumaru's side. "You might be seen."

He said nothing, staring down at Rin's aged grave. Another had been buried next to her, and something yanked on her heartstrings. Kohaku lay beside his wife, the gravestones touching shoulders.

Kagome's stomach twisted, and she looked up at Sesshoumaru's placid features, slowly grasping his frozen fingers. She smiled gently, "guess we're both still stubborn, huh?"

Shadowed gold slid to her, warming with faint amusement. "Hn, that much will never change."

Kagome nestled a little closer, feeling like it had been an achingly short amount of time since she'd first discovered him standing at Rin's grave. The memory of his ghostly features, so withdrawn and frozen, still haunted the back of her mind. Now Inuyasha looked much the same.

I never want to see that look again. Today...I want this to be the last day I see a look of grief on their faces.

Making such a wish was wretchedly naive, especially with the curse of her time-travel jumps, but Kagome clung to the Daiyoukai's hand all the same. After a little while however, that hand tensed.

Sesshoumaru raised his head. "Blood."

"What?"

Suddenly a whirlwind of confusion rocked her senses as she felt herself be lifted up. Soon they were moving. Fast.

When the motion finally stopped, Kagome swayed in his arms from the momentum, gasping when her eyes refocused. The men from before were attacking Inuyasha, five on one. While her friend tried to hold his ground, she noticed one of them swing a staff- hitting him over the back of the head with it. The men then quickly took to kicking and stamping on his crumpled form.

The sound that escaped Sesshoumaru's throat drowned out all other noise. Kagome felt it shudder out from his chest- and watched as the men turned- doing a double take and staring with abject horror.

Sesshoumaru sped in close, dropping her to the floor at his feet as he swept in and cleaved one man in two. His blood landed on Kagome's cheeks.

It felt warm.

She stared as the other men were dispatched in much the same way.

"You...idiot," Inuyasha wheezed out, sprawled on the floor as his black hair matted with blood. "That could have been- Sango- and Miroku's- gn...kin."

Sesshoumaru straightened, flicking the blood off his claws. "Do not be foolish. I knew from scent it wasn't them." He turned on his heel, "Kagome are-"

Her form was sinking through the floor, image wavering out of existence. Her eyes were wide as she reached toward him, then also toward Inuyasha with panic. The blood on her face glowed pink as the scent of Time caught in her hair.

Sesshoumaru's body turned ridged, quickly blurring in the air- clawed fingers stretching wide and plunging into the ground after her outstretched hand. His palm met nothing but earth, cracking the surface on impact.

A noise of grief ripped itself from his lips.

Falling to her knees, Kagome sucked air into her starved lungs. Registering the museum she sat in, dripping water over the polished floors, Kagome shakily pushed herself to stand.

Inuyasha, her eyes dimmed. She supposed he had to actively follow her in order to time travel. Her heart sank, resting heavily in her chest.

Ignoring the startled stares from a few bystanders, some who asked where on earth she'd come from- Kagome raced from the room.

She didn't stop until she reached Higurashi shrine, leaning against the tori-arch at the top of the stairs as she caught her breath. She scrubbed at her face, still feeling the blood. Her legs ached from the sprint, heart pounding. Forcing herself on, Kagome slipped her soggy shoes off once more and trailed wet footprints inside.

"Mama?"

Hearing a 'clank!' in the kitchen, rapid foot-falls signalled her mother's presence, before Mrs Higurashi stopped in the hallway. "Oh, Kagome. Thank goodness. Shippo told us you'd be back soon but wasn't sure when."

Guilt tugged at her, and taking a breath, Kagome padded forward. She then hugged her mother tight, burying her face in her shoulder.

"K-kagome?" Soft arms wrapped around her, encasing her in warm, homely smells.

"He didn't come back with me," her voice wobbled.

"Who, honey?"

"Inuyasha."

There was a beat of silence, before a light, comforting touch settled on Kagome's head, stroking her hair. The tense muscles in Kagome's shoulders relaxed, and she wallowed in the safety of her mother's embrace for a long while.

When she'd recharged, she rubbed at her cheeks. "I-I know it's not fair on you, Mama, but I have to go back again as soon as I can. He was hurt, and Sesshoumaru is alone. A-and Inuyasha is going to grow old if I wait too long. Maybe he won't have aged too much- maybe he can still live with us. Besides, Sesshoumaru's stronghold isn't looking too good, and-"

Mrs Higurashi silenced her with a gentle shush, poking her side. "Remember to breathe, honey. I'll call Shippo over, sound good? While you're here though, please eat something."

Kagome opened her mouth to reply that she wasn't hungry, but a look from her mother sent her into the kitchen.

Shippo arrived within the hour, baby-food mixture dotting his blue shirt, which had tried to hide with his jacket.

"You didn't have to come if you were busy," Kagome chastised, grabbing a napkin and wetting it- dabbing at the material.

He yawned, running a hand through thick red hair, "believe me- I needed a break. Try watching a baby kit who already knows magic, it'll take it outta ya." He yawned once more, briefly showing a fang.

"Ah...Shippo, your disguise-" Kagome pointed out weakly, smiling despite herself.

"Mhm, I'll fix it later. No point hiding around family," he said, rubbing his eye. He didn't seem to notice the effect his words had on her, as Kagome's heart warmed. Shaky happiness bloomed in her chest, and for some reason now tears decided to prick her eyes.

She finished up cleaning his shirt and eased away. "Mama told you on the phone, right? I need a new item right away."

Green eyes glanced around carefully. "She said Inuyasha had been left in the past. That the stronghold wasn't in great shape."

Kagome wished she could pry into his thoughts and know what exactly would happen to her loved ones. She could see him pick and choose entirely what to say and how to answer. "Do you know where I can find one?"

He exhaled, placing his hand on her shoulder. "I've got one," he admitted. "But I'm not giving it over until after you've rested tonight. You're also gonna take your arrows this time, got it?"

Something wormed its way inside her stomach, an insidious worry. Kagome straightened her spine and forced herself to act normal. She arched her brow and quirked her lips, "isn't that kind of advice cheating, Shippo? I mean, now I know something's waiting for me when I get back."

The fox laughed, ruffling her hair to obscure her vision and hide his expression. He was more masterful at the art of masks than her. "Sometimes it's good to bend the rules, otherwise things get dull."

The hand atop her head pressed down a little when she tried to look up at him. "Just...be careful."

"I will," she promised, forcing strength into her voice.

With no other plans forthcoming, Kagome settled in for the night after showering and bidding goodbye to Shippo, who passed whatever item it was on to Mrs Higurashi. Pulling the covers up to her chin, she turned to look at the empty futon on the floor beside her bed. Her heart gave a squeeze, and she glanced at Tetsusaiga by the wall.

"I'll take you back to him tomorrow," she muttered, closing her eyes. Turning over, she drew her knees up, touching the mating mark on her shoulder. She'd gotten into the habit of touching it in her sleep, feeling like a part of her were lacing fingers with the demon lord.

She wondered if he were out there, doing the same thing she was.

After dressing in easy to move clothing and sliding her bow and quiver of arrows over her shoulder, Kagome tied Tetsusaiga to her waist, resting the sword at her hip and breathing out. She'd gotten a good few hours sleep at least.

She soon found herself standing before Mama and waiting. With an accepting, but tired smile, Mama grasped her hand and pushed something small into her palm.

Kagome lifted it up for inspection, finding a simple Higurashi shine stamper. It was aged, of course, the image of the sunset barely intact. But she knew instinctively that it was the same one.

"You consider me...yours?"

"Thank you," Kagome breathed, clutching the stamper close.

Soon she was swimming through pink-tinged waters, kicking her legs hard while making a beeline for the surface. Moving her arms, the lungs in her chest protested, demanding air. Forcing herself to push through it, Kagome made a noise and squeezed her eyes shut. Breaking the surface after a moment- she gasped, sucking in harsh gulps of air.

A strange, sharp smell assaulted her senses- burning and choking. It caught at her lashes and made a cough shudder out of her.

Kagome blinked her eyes open, heart plummeting into her stomach. Off in the distance, a brilliant plume of thick black smoke towered high in the air. Following its progress down, she watched as flames roared from the Western Stronghold, licking its rooftops. On lower ground, closer to her position in the river, cries and shouts from human and demon alike sounded out, mingling with the ash coated air.

The miko watched as swords, claws and youki ripped into flesh, sending blood flying. Her heart thundered like that of the horse's hooves as men dispatched demons, slaying as what seemed to be Priests immobilised their foes.

Lifting herself out of the water, Kagome steeled herself, before drawing her bow.

#sesskag #sesshoumaru x kagome #sesskag fanfiction #sesshomaru #kagome higurashi #inuyasha fanfiction

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blueboxesandtrafficcones · 5 years

Text

The French Connection - Chapter 4

A HardyxMiller AU

Ellie Miller is left to go on her honeymoon alone after a devastating secret about her fiance comes to light - halfway through the wedding ceremony. Sitting in St Pancras International in London waiting for her train, she runs into none other than her uni rival/best friend Alec Hardy, on the run from his own recent heartbreak.

They decide to make use of Ellie’s pre-paid trip, rekindling their friendship and escaping real life; yet, it turns out their years at uni are the hardest to outrun. Based on this prompt from @timepetalscollective

Chapters will be posted every Wednesday and Sunday. Beta’d by the wonderful @stupidsatsuma

Masterlist | AO3

---

Despite Hardy’s playful jabs, Ellie had built free-time into the schedule for them to do as they pleased. Given that the trip had been intended as a honeymoon she had expected to spend that time in bed, but with Hardy as her travel companion instead, they decided to lounge by the hotel pool, relaxing and playing in the water, earning themselves plenty of disapproving glares from the other guests.

After showering and changing they headed out for the day, strolling past the Louvre again to the Place de la Concorde, where the Champs-Elysee began. The most famous street in Paris, they quickly located a café charming enough for Ellie’s standards and had pastries for lunch.

Once fed they continued on down the boulevard towards l’Arc de Triumphe, Ellie oohing and aahing at all the expensive shops they passed.

“Can you imagine having the money to spend along here?” she wanted to know, when he all but forcefully dragged her away from a Louboutin shop. “To just shop to your heart’s content, money no issue. As much as I love my job, I can’t deny I wouldn’t mind a better salary.”

“We’re not in it for the money,” Hardy rolled his eyes, palm pressed firmly between her shoulder blades in an attempt to keep her walking straight without getting sidetracked. “Besides, this is all just… stuff. It’s not inherently better than more reasonably-priced items, people just think it is ‘cause it’s got a ‘name’. Who cares?”

Ellie peered up at him, smirking slightly. “So you have no interest in that Paul Smith store?”

His head automatically turned in the direction she gestured, before his back stiffened and he glared down at her. “Not funny.”

“There actually was one, next block over from the Tuileries.”

“Shut up, Miller,” he fell back on an old standby, before pointing at a store front. “Don’t you have something from ‘Lou-is Vut-ton’ already?”

“Oooh!”

Once they reached Place Charles de Gaulle, they stopped to stare at the roundabout, with easily a hundred cars flying around and off onto one of the dozen streets that spread out from there.

“How the hell are we supposed to get over there?” Hardy wanted to know, staring incredulously at the throngs of people inside the roped-off section of the circle, where the Arch itself sat. “Teleport? Walk through traffic? Call Mary fucking Poppins?”

Ellie shrugged, before a sign caught her eye and jogged her memory. “There’s a tunnel!”

“A tunnel?”

“Yes, a tunnel,” she repeated, already heading in that direction. “Keep up. It takes us under the roadway.”

He was muttering behind her but she paid him little attention, starting down the steps amid a throng of other sightseers. Barely three minutes later they came up just in front of the Arch, and having enough presence of mind to step out of the way, she stopped dead to gape.

“I can’t believe I’m here,” she whispered, yelping when someone brushed her elbow.

“It’s just me,” Hardy grumped. “Right, so what’s so special about this?”

She studied his face for a moment, before judging him to be more troublemaker than ignoramus. “Shut up. We’re going up to the top.”

“Why?” He trailed behind obediently anyway, as they joined the ticket queue. “What’s up there?”

“‘What’s up there?’” she mocked. “A gorgeous view of the city, feel the wind in your hair… honestly, you’ve been such a grump since we left the hotel. It’s Paris, just try to enjoy it and not be… you for a while, yeah?”

“Fine.” Hardy made a face and she made one right back, distracted out of her irritation by the small giggles of the children in line behind them. Smiling awkwardly at them she turned to face forward, glad to not be looking at Hardy when she overheard the conversation behind them.

“Mummy?” the little girl attempted to whisper, “Why were they arguing like that? Aren’t they happy to be here?”

The mother answered her daughter quietly, though clearly not quietly enough – “They weren’t arguing, they were bickering, like how Daddy and I do.”

“What does that mean?”

“That even people in love sometimes get annoyed with each other, but even when they say mean things, they still love each other, and they both know it, even if they don’t like each other in that moment.”

“Like when Daddy leaves the toilet seat up? Or Jason steals my Barbies?”

“Exactly.”

Ellie’s spine stiffened, listening, and she fought very hard not to peek at Hardy’s face to see if he’d heard.

In love? Us? Not bloody likely.

They took their time going back up the Champs-Elysee on the opposite side, Ellie doing her best not to look at or speak to Hardy any more than necessary, ideally without his noticing.

“The hell is wrong with you?” he finally asked, when they passed the third bakery in a row that Ellie gave no attention. “Was it that garbage you had for lunch? I said you’d regret it.”

Ellie scowled. “I am in France,” she said sternly, “so I am eating French food. Why is that such a difficult concept?”

“Then what’s the problem?”

He mustn’t have heard them talking behind us, she realized; she’d been too focused on avoiding him to notice he was no different. Thank God.

“I’m just thinking about dinner,” she lied, grimacing as she remembered the reservations they had.

“D’you have somewhere in mind?”

“Actually… I have reservations. Ones already paid for, unfortunately.”

“Where?”

Ellie gave him her best sweet smile, hoping in vain to butter him up. “Restaurant 58.”

He stopped dead, crossing his arms and arching an eyebrow. “I’m not playing twenty fucking questions. Just tell me.”

“All right.” She tilted her head, walking again, waiting for him to catch up to say, “It’s on the first level of la Tour Eiffel. A guaranteed view of the Trocadero, the park that’s on the other side of the river that you always see in pictures of Paris.”

“Sounds romantic,” Hardy said cautiously, looking genuinely concerned. “You sure?”

“Already paid for,” she repeated. “And the weather’s supposed to be beautiful, thank God. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime experience. Please?”

He sighed, reluctantly unfolding his arms, before nodding. “‘Course. Your trip.”

“Brilliant!”

Once back at the room they started getting ready for an early-for-Paris seating, Ellie taking the shower first so Hardy could be in there while she fussed with her hair and makeup.

She was just struggling with her zipper when Hardy knocked on the door, and she called him in. “Perfect timing! Zip me up?” she asked, turning her back on him as he entered the room and sweeping her hair out of the way.

“Erm, sure.” He came up behind her, and she was hyper aware of him as nimble fingers pinched the dress together and pulled the zip up.

“There’s a button, too,” she mentioned, and he did that as well, before easing her long, loose tresses from her grip and fluffing them along her back, before smoothing his palms over her shoulders.

Ellie’s breath hitched, his touch stirring up surprising emotions. It was light, barely touching her, but she felt it like an electric shock, crackling through her.

“You look beautiful,” he murmured, stepping away.

“Thanks. The dress is new.” Unsure of what to do with her hands she smoothed the skirt of the dress down. She’d bought it for the trip, a sexy little dress expected to make Joe’s knees weak. Navy blue and lace, the off-the-shoulder wide bands kept her neck and shoulders bare, perfect for a summer evening out. She felt beautiful and elegant, and utterly alone. Much as she’d tried to not dwell on it, and having succeeded most of the day, preparing for an admittedly romantic dinner had made her long for her almost-husband. The betrayal still stung, burned really, a dark mass in her gut that made her blood burn just to think of it, but forty-eight hours previous she’d been preparing to spend her life with the man.

That didn’t fade overnight, much as she prayed it would. She’d wasted three years of her life with Joe, hoping and planning for a future that had evaporated in a puff of smoke. She was angry, humiliated, a righteous indignation stiffening her spine. Yet the way Hardy looked at her, treated her as if nothing special or unusual had happened, helped. She didn’t want to be coddled, like her sister would’ve tried to do, or patronized and made to feel guilty and at fault, like her parents had berated her.

She wanted to be uni-Ellie again, challenged and equaled. Hardy would pull no punches, wouldn’t sugar-coat anything. He would just let her be in the moment.

“Ready?” he asked, shifting awkwardly and breaking her from her spell.

“Yes.” As they headed headed for the lift, she admired his navy suit, amused to find he’d coordinated himself with her dress.

“You look nice.”

“Thanks.” He offered her his arm, guiding her to the lobby as she ordered a car on her phone.

The Uber driver took the scenic path, which cut in front of the Louvre and passed the glass pyramid, making her smile at the famous sight. Crossing that bridge to the other bank they rode along the river, taking in the happy couples and families strolling along the path. Everything seemed so bright, and peaceful, and everything she’d hoped it would be.

“I have to let you off here,” their driver said abruptly. “Security reasons. Is this okay?”

“Fine, thanks,” Ellie smiled brightly, waiting until Hardy had slid out to follow him. They weren’t far, could easily see the tower, and she didn’t mind a little extra walk. Her heels were comfortable, and she was in Paris – c’est la vie.

Once on the sidewalk he offered her his arm again, and she had to admit as they walked that it improved the experience. “It’s nice, approaching on foot. Gives you more a sense of the magnitude.”

“It is pretty impressive, I suppose,” he agreed. “You know it was built as the entrance to the 1889 World’s Fair?”

“Really?”

“Everyone hated it. Was only permitted for twenty years, but by then it had become a landmark.”

“Hard to imagine Paris without it.”

“Right?”

Ellie had pre-printed tickets, so they were able to go to a special line that took them right up to the restaurant. The ride up the lift through the leg of the Tower was a thrill, and she was grinning widely by the time they stepped off. “This is gorgeous!”

The walls were all glass to improve the view, curving with the shape of the Tower. She’d paid for a guaranteed view of the Trocadero, and they only had to wait a few minutes to be seated. The restaurant was minimally decorated, subtle in design so as to not take away from the specialness of the location and views.

“This is nice,” Hardy admitted as they settled in their seats, taking in the view before looking at the menu.

“Right? It won’t get dark until we’re done, but once we are we can go outside – dinner included the price of the ticket for the Tower itself.”

“Great.”

They studied the menu, sitting in a calm silence until after their orders had been placed and their wine poured.

“Hang on,” Hardy blurted, as she brought wine glass to her lips.

“What?”

He held his own out towards her. “To… to finding the silver lining. Or the open window. Or whatever trite motivational fortune-cookie saying you prefer.”

“Well said.”

“Shut up. Point being…” Hardy hesitated a moment, glancing around the restaurant and out the window before settling his eyes on her, sincerity shining there. “I’m very glad I ran into you, and I’m happy to be here with you now. I hope you can say the same.”

A small smile bloomed on her face. “I can,” she said honestly. “Better to find out before the wedding rather than after, I suppose. And it is good to see you again.”

They clinked wine glasses, drinking to the strangest toast she’d ever heard.

And yet somehow it still felt right.

After a meal where the food was as enjoyable as the company, and an awe-inspiring sunset, they exited the restaurant onto the first level to join the throngs of other tourists trying to take in the city by moonlight.

Ellie’s good mood soured slightly; she’d had the naïve but romantic hope that somehow, she and Joe would be alone on the Tower after dinner, like something out of a movie. I should have expected this.

“El.” Hardy tugged her by the elbow, and she turned to him, frowning.

“What?”

But he had disappeared into the crowd, and sighing, she eased her way past the groups, mostly couples, in the direction he’d gone. Finally she found him at the steps up to the next level, waiting impatiently.

They went up together, Ellie clutching tightly to the handrail just to be safe, unused to climbing steps in heels. After the first dozen Hardy came onto her step, resting his hand on her back to offer support.

When they reached the second level, she looked up at him and said dryly, “We are so taking the lift down,” before noticing the view and promptly forgetting her complaint. “Oh, look at this.”

It was far less crowded on the second level, and they were able to find a relatively private spot. Ellie leaned against the railing, almost pressing her face to the protective lattice-work keeping anyone from falling. “It’s so beautiful.”

“Yeah.” Hardy’s voice was heavy with emotion, the same way it had been the previous morning watching the sunrise, and she was afraid to look at him for a moment.

“Thank you. Thank you for coming with me. If you hadn’t been there, I don’t know if I would’ve gotten on the train,” she confessed, staring determinedly at a boat making its way along the river. “I probably would’ve just checked into a hotel and slept the week away, or something, and missed out on the beauty and wonder. God, to think I’d have given up the trip of a lifetime to Paris for a bloke.”

Hardy leaned against the railing beside her, sighing. “I had no idea where I was going to go. I’d even been considering going up to Glasgow and visiting family.” He shivered dramatically in disgust, making her laugh softly. “So, thank you for the invite. I hadn’t known how much I missed you until I saw you again.”

Touched, she turned to face him at last, giving him a watery smile. “I missed you too.” Rising up on her toes she leaned in, aiming for his cheek. Later, when she would spend half the night lying awake replaying this moment, she wouldn’t be able to tell if he moved because of bad luck or if he’d misunderstood, but Hardy’s face turned to her at the last possible second, and instead of the innocent kiss to the cheek she had intended, her lips landed squarely on his.

Oh my God, she thought, freezing in surprise at the admittedly delightful feel of his mouth against hers. Then he leaned forward slightly, into the kiss, and the only thing running through her mind was what the fuck?

Jerking her head back her jaw dropped, as she stared up at him, watching his eyes widen and his throat work as he swallowed.

What was that?!

#bbatcfic #broadfic #Broadchurch #HardyxMiller #Alec Hardy #Ellie Miller #AU #The French Connection #platonic honeymoon fic

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shade-without-color · 5 years

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Fruits Basket Discord Contest: A quiet soliloquy (Victorian AU)

Note: So this is my entry for the Fruits Basket contest which I am working on the theme of Blossom. So I am interpreting it on both ways, one on the physical garden and another, on how Tohru tried to get Kyo somehow (I dunno why I just thought of John Keats in Bright Star LOL), it was a little idea which is out of my comfort zone as I have to research on the Crimean War and the effects. I thank @stormcrowthegrey for the additional idea!

I am a part of all that I have met; Yet all experience is an arch wherethro' Gleams that untravell'd world whose margin fades For ever and forever when I move. (Ulysses by Alfred Lord Tennyson)

Tohru slowly skipped the stairs as she looked over the faces of the Sohmas, there is that strangeness in their faces, and at most, they hold themselves to a certain hunger. She particularly looked at that portrait of one of the family members which he took a masque as an ancient god. She somehow makes fantasies what he would be, in that guise of time.

However, the smell of fried mutton nearly tempted her, which she glanced at the sidelines on Kyo gazing to the celling of the triumphs of Gods and Goddesses in unison. He nearly gave a satirical chuckle. She shivered slightly at his ramrod gaze. She swallowed quietly at that thought. “Ohhh good morning.”

He did not reply much. In contrary, she saw Yuki descending down the stairs, and as usual, he seems composed in his actions. “Good morning Miss Honda...” his hands somehow curled to the maps of the countries. “Should we move on with breakfast....” it seems like a deep contrast from Kyo’s sullenness.

“Hmmm...”

Meanwhile, Shigure came down the stairs lazily, his face seems flushed as his hand gripped to the papers of the work “Oh good morning miss Honda.”

“Morning...”

Soon she saw a ginger-haired girl, wearing a simple eggplant dress and patent leather shoes “Good morning Lady Kisa.” She did not reply as she was rendered silent, her eyes gazing over a small modelli of Rinaldo walking over the enchanted gardens of an enchanted sorceress.

Shigure somehow squeezed Kyo’s shoulder. “Come, do not sulk, we should have breakfast together...” Kyo mumbled quietly “There is no need...” as his hands reached out for the nearest book. “I bet Yuki will say that I am a failure for the family, even more, when I laid there..." He only gave the company goodbye. "Do not let this affect you, Miss Honda. Kyo is always upset…I just cannot get through his head since he charged in front of the house…"Shigure nearly glanced at Kyo storming out of the corridors “So be it, Yuki, I wonder what did they prepare this I hope it is devilled kidneys…”

During the breakfast brought by the servants, Tohru grew uneasy than before, she heard about the plight of the soldiers of that war, and the horrendous conditions that they lived, but she has never seen someone who has been shaken by the war by Kyo. For that moment he seems to be like a caged tiger, waiting to lash at anyone. She somehow traced her fork against the French omelette, thinking what is that side which he is afraid of.

“Tohru…your tea seems cold…”

Tohru blinked her eyes slightly, as she gazed at a young maid trying to fill up the pots with hot water to keep the ham warm.

“Sorry…I have something in mind…”

“Yes…I just need some fresh air Shigure…” Tohru mumbled slightly, as she gazed at Shigure smiling quietly as he enjoyed his favourite dish of devilled kidneys. “…I feel that my digestion is…”

“You are excused…” Shigure simpered quietly. “Just do not take too long…"

“…Thank you, Shigure…." Tohru curtsey Shigure quietly. Somehow Tohru could breathe easy as she left the dining room, leaving the door ajar as Yuki showed Shigure his plans of expansion, which he observed her trying to hold back the tears in her eyes.

He somehow knew that Tohru is going to their family gardens to look for him.

“It seems that Miss Honda is off, should I bring her to the…”

Shigure held his hand slightly to Yuki “There is no need, a woman must figure her own path, well about Singapore, how it is like. Heard from friends that is balmy.”

Tohru quietly searched over that young man in the gardens, which the gardeners barely recognise that stranger. And soon she found Kyo, he was different from the meeting in the courts. He seems settled with a simple shirt and breeches. He seems to be sheltered with the shade of the leaves. A scene of tranquillity and at most she could hear him speak.

"For heaven's sake, let us sit upon the ground. And tell sad stories of the death of kings,. How some have been deposed, some slain in war.”

There is a slight tremble in his voice, as Kyo focused himself to be that illicit king, a mulberry flower slowly landed on his shoulder.

"Some haunted by the ghosts they have deposed…."

"Some poisoned by their wives, some sleeping killed, All murdered. For within the hollow crown…” And finally, he stood up to himself, watching the sun rays bathing in the lands “...That rounds the mortal temples of a king.” She was moved by those words, perhaps he has to wrestle with his demons, alone, and yet frightened. At that moment, Tohru nearly tripped her skirts and found herself falling down on the patch, causing a thud.

Kyo glanced at her slightly, and soon Tohru ran off from that hedge. And Kyo scratched his head slightly, only resigned himself to follow along with the speech again.

Quietly Tohru assembled herself a small palette of watercolours and papers when she noticed Kyo sitting down quietly amidst the nestled mulberry leaves, with his hands trembled from reading a poem from Shakespeare. He somehow possessed a quiet spirit which is much different from his more violent nature. She could not tell the trembling of his hands, as he flipped through every page. Amidst the soft light, she could see the pricks around his hand, swallowing lyrical wisdom of characters that came back and forth in mind. Shigure seems to walk by with ease, as he leans by the wall "Ahhh, as usual like Keats, in deep melancholy, he tried to be awake from the biting reality, and yet he is not..."

"Why do you said that..."

'I know faces like him, who came back from uncharted lands... And this war, though as a way to gain lands, are executed rather poorly." Shigure closed his eyes slightly "They are once boys, now they become the hollow men of the world..." Tohru paused slightly, maybe that is why, at times, he could hear him scream at times, as he was forced to be awakened by the demons that encapsulated his mind. Somehow Shigure helped himself to take a piece of bread, and quietly chomped it "I somehow pitied him, I know that Yuki could have been in the same position as him, fighting against those power hungry Russians.

"Lack of clean water, cold winters which you have a blanket to wrap your hungry body, and the usual diseases, cholera, and if you are wounded. Your arm or leg could be chopped off, though in an untactful manner. "

Quietly Shigure looked over the framed pictures of the relatives who have passed on. “Yuki has shown promise on expanding our business, that itself, a big ticket to escape the clutches of war.” He took a deep breath, as he glanced at one standing proudly in military uniform “And of course we have to give a scapegoat to the persons in charge, and you probably know who...” Tohru could easily fill in the blanks in her mind. She made a slight frown, as she watched him more growing agitated at dinners which Yuki shared his dreams with the older members of the family. Maybe that is why he has a sinking feeling in his heart. “Oh…” Shigure smiled quietly, watching the clock tick by. “I suppose you should be making your way to the drawing room. A certain little lady is waiting for you…”

Somehow Tohru's eyes widened slightly, as she quickly grabbed the papers and paints “Uhmmm..uhmmm…I am sorry if I took your time Master Shigure!, I should have to keep track! I am sorry! I am sorry!” And before long, Shigure gave a small smile. He thought to himself, there is no way that a kind person like Tohru could break through Kyo’s defences.

Shigure quietly slipped himself another piece of bread left on the plate, and slick some butter on top. "You know after, that walk by the garden, I notice that Kyo came back to eat, but always in silence..." His voice seems to be grave about this matter. "I think you must have an effect on him..."

"I have never seen him smile since he came back to the house. It seems that not all hope is lost."

Meanwhile, Tohru curtseyed to the small lady, clutching her skirts slightly “How are you doing Lady Kisa.” She, of course, rendered silent as she looked over the window, and seeing the oak trees swayed in the breeze. Quietly she set up the easel, alongside with the papers and paints. Toru quietly gripped her hand “Come…let’s paint this landscape which you can see from this window…”

Tohru took the lead and started to sketch out the trees and the sunlight bathing in the leaves. Subconsciously she started to sketch a small figure hidden amidst the trees. Kisa hesitantly took up the brushes and started to paint the landscape with her own paper. She somehow cracked a small smile, as she glazed over the leaves. Toru grinned quietly “Well that seems lovely…”

However, Tohru was left with that lingering thought in her mind. What seems to go on with his mind. She wished to be at his side. He seems to be a kind man who dived himself to the crevices of poetry to quell the demons in his mind. Suddenly she heard a quiet mummer from Kisa “Lady Tohru...” Tohru looked at her quietly “...you must be worried about Master Kyo...”

How did a child know?

Tohru looked over at Kisa’s piece, her brushstrokes convey a delicacy, as if spring has come to the dull rooms. She yearned to be closer to him. Maybe what Shigure said is true, there are demons which she could not resolve for him. He has started his match He could smell the gunpowder amidst the mulberry trees, the roasted meats which she ate at nights, haunted his mind, and even the merriment of Shigure discussing the recent developments of his new bunch of friends made him all sullen. Even at nights, he would do nothing but to sit by the porch, and watch the moon glaze by, maybe it was comforting from the cramped tents, only lit by gaslight.

Tohru clutched her skirts slightly, there is got to be a side which he is afraid to show. Kiss tried to cheer her up, by showing off the new piece. “Miss...” Tohru looked at her quietly “I think master Kyo will one day, will see you as you are.”

Tohru found her eyes welled up in tears and soon held her by the shoulders, and before long she heard him speak. It was different from the jealous tones, he seems to show his vulnerability in these trees, and maybe that is what strikes her to paint him hidden. A man lost in the forest, never able to return home.

Kisa broke out her miasma as she clutched her hand. “I am sure, I have been thinking of Master Hiro, I wonder..I wonder what would he think of me.."

Tohru smiles quietly as she wiped a tear from her eye. She, will one day reach her hand to him. She knew someday will be the sweetest day ever.

“I do not know, but we will figure it out…” Tohru thought of something else to keep Kisa busy. Maybe she could brush up some French.

“Now the works are dry..maybe some light French conversation…” That thought of reaching out to him will come by someday, as she took that dusty book out from the shelf. Kisa nodded quietly "Allons-nous commencer?”

“Oui"

#writing #writers on tumblr #spilled ink #fruits basket #furuba #yuki sohma #Kyo Sohma #Tohru Honda #Shigure Sohma #Kisa Sohma #Victorian AU #Victorian #fanfic #creative writing #furubamonthlybang

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marshmallowatheart · 6 years

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To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before (Part 27)

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17) (18) (19) (20) (21) (22) (23) (24) (25) (26)

"Mmmm the smell of fried dough, popcorn and foot long meat filled sandwiches," Veronica sniffs the air, eyes closed and a blissful smile. "Ain't nothing like the carnival."

Logan chuckles, tilting his head as he admires her. Wallace grins, gesturing with his brows to the love struck boy and Veronica's eyes widen slightly, she cranks her neck a bit and gives Wallace a thin lipped smile.

His shoulders pick up in an exaggerated shrug, his smile bright and his eyes still hinting at Logan.

Veronica gives Logan a hesitate smile, hoping he doesn't notice Wallace's teasing gestures and Wallace just laughs, he rubs his palms together and remarks loudly, "I was promised cotton candy and slush puppies."

“I could go for slushies,” Heather chirps. “I’m waiting for Ophelia to get here so we can go on the rides together.”

“And Ryan,” Darrell teases, snickering beside her and she swats his arm as she mouths ‘shut up’.

Veronica grins at Heather’s blushing and flustered face as she rambles on and Logan softly chuckles. “While you guys get some snacks, how about we get the unlimited ride wrist bands for the kids?”

Veronica bobs her head, agreeing, “Good idea.” She turns to Heather, hands her some cash and says, “Tell Wallace to get me some caramel popcorn. Gotta get myself warmed up before I go in full throttle on that foot long sandwich roll,“ she pumped up her arms in a show of dramatics.

Logan grins, amused while Heather gives her an unimpressed look and rhetorically remarks, “Why are you like this?”

“You want the bands or not?” Veronica shoots back, brow arched with a triumph smirk when she sees Heather cave in with a dragged out sigh.

Logan shakes his head at the duo and laces his fingers with Veronica’s as they walk to the ticket booth.

She swallows at the familiar feel of his warm and long fingers wrapped around hers. She bites her lip because she feels so aware that there’s no one here to pretend for and she wonders if he realizes this. Has it become instinct for him to take her hand? Or did he actively seek it out because he liked holding her hand?

She doesn’t say anything about it but there’s a faint blush on her face because it feels like something more.

"Veronica?"

She hears him say and she snaps out of her thoughts, "Yeah?"

They’re standing in line which is longer than they thought it would be but it’s Sunday and they really shouldn’t be surprised. "Last night, Lilly said the reason you guys weren't friends anymore was because of me."

His admission takes her by complete surprise. "You actually asked her,” she can’t seem to dim the disbelieve in her voice. “Why even bother after all this time?"

"I don't know,” he half shrugs, his free hand running through the back ends of his hair. “I mean we've reconnected, I just thought maybe if we cleared the bad blood between you guys -"

"Logan,” she stops him, takes a breath as she tries to gather the right way to phrase herself. “I know you care about Lilly,” she acknowledges even though she doesn’t really want to acknowledge it anymore. “But I've decided long ago to not care about people who don't give a damn about me,” she says emphatically, knowing that he understands what she’s been through to have come to this conclusion.

“And if it were your fault why did she crown you the title of boyfriend while I was left as a cast away?" Veronica bitterly continues with her irritation building up. "What could you have possibly done that - " she stops mid-sentence when realization hits her. She swallows and reveals, "You kissed me."

He stares at her quizzically. "What?"

She huffs out a breath and shakes her head with utter disbelief. "The only thing that you've ever done with me that Lilly would ever feel betrayal over is when you kissed me when we were twelve."

He remembers the day fondly, his first kiss with Veronica but he doesn’t understand how Lilly could have known about it because he’s never told anyone and he’s pretty sure Veronica didn’t tell anyone. "How would she even know about that?"

"I don't know,” she shakes her head. “But that's the only reason that could possibly involve you."

He runs the theory in his head but it makes less sense than Veronica’s first theory of them growing apart. He wasn’t with Lilly then. "That was five years ago."

Veronica scoffs as they move along the line. "This is Lilly Kane we're talking about. She holds a grudge like she could make a business out of it." Veronica shakes her head, they’ve reached the counter and Logan’s putting in the order and handing over payment for wrist bands as Veronica gathers her thoughts.

"Now I know why she used to get so prissy every time I talked about you," she grumbled.

Logan accepts the wrist bands with a quick thanks and as they move away from the line, he asks with a ghost of a smile, "You talked about me?"

She glances as him as they continue walking and shrugs, "You may have come up in conversations."

He grins, wide and mischievously. "Were these slumber party worthy conversations that you had in short shorts in the midst of a pillow fight?"

She rolls her eyes. It was a long time ago and she was a kid. She remembers though that she'd felt guilt about that kiss because this was the guy her best friend liked and she started to like him too.

Her redemption had been letting go off all the romantic notations she'd had about Logan and being supportive for her best friend. That's the reason she'd never told Lilly about the kiss but if she were being completely honest she had been afraid of what that kiss might have done to their friendship and now she knows.

Veronica doesn't know how Lilly's spun off the tale in her head but she's sure that it's worst case scenario; betrayal and plotting against her because that's the world Lilly lives in.

She swallows down any sort of regret she had because the fact is that Lilly still got Logan and she got a bowl of nothing except tears down her face wondering what she'd done wrong.

She sighs with resignation maybe if they'd spoke about this back then they could have fixed everything. But they didn't, it's five years later and Lilly's resentment has grown into hatred and Veronica just wants to be done with it all.

"Hey,” he bumps her shoulder, pulling her out of her thoughts once again. “Want me to get you a teddy bear? I hear it's a must for normal couples," he asks, eyeing the toy filled booth.

"Hmm. I prefer my teddy bears earned by a demonstration of skill in some sort of ring tossing test of abilities," she quips, turning him around to the long aisle of gaming booths available for play.

"Ah," he lets out. "So m'lady wants her prize to be won, does she?"

"She does," Veronica grins and he chuckles, letting his hand find hers again and tugs her along to the booth.

#veronica mars #logan echolls #wallace fennel #darrell fennel #heather button #heather mars #vm fic #vm fanfic #inspired by to all the boys ive loved before #to all the boys i've loved before #part 27

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airporttranfers0 · 2 years

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brussels airport taxi

Brussels is the largest city in Belgium and also the capital of the country. It has developed from a medieval fortified city into a huge urban area. Since the end of the Second World War, it has been one of the most important centers of international politics. This city has a lot of French and Dutch influence. It is also an important stopover for the Eurostar high-speed service.

The magnificent palace and EU institutions, for example, are examples of Brussels' rich architectural heritage. The Grand Palace has been declared a World Heritage Site by the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization (UNESCO). The City Hall is located in the center, as well as the Cathedrals of St. Michael and Gudula, and Laken Castle, known for its many greenhouses. Another tourist destination is Mini Europe Park, which features full-scale replicas of several of Europe's most popular landmarks. Manneken Pis, the iconic bronze statue of the pinking child, is a symbol of the city and a popular tourist destination. Other architectural wonders include the Cinquantenaire Arch of Triumph, the Basilica of the Sacred Heart and the Palace of Justice.

More than 80 institutions, including the Comic Museum, the Royal Museum of Fine Art and others, are available to culture seekers. Other cultural sites in Brussels include the Brussels Theater and the Opera. Another attraction in Heysel Park is the Atomium. It consists of nine spheres connected by tubes that represent atomic structure. It was built for the world exhibition. Brussels is also home to Belgium's largest stadium, the King Baudouin Stadium, which seats 50,000. It is used for competitions and concerts.

Information about attractions

In Brussels, the Grand Destination Grote Market is a fantastic place to visit. The musical shows, pleasant people, breathtakingly beautiful surroundings and structures, among others, absolutely enchant travelers.

The Anderlecht Beguinage is one of the most magnificent and famous structures in Brussels. This building, which was converted into a museum in 1930, is now a popular tourist destination for many people. You can relax and unwind here in the adjacent gardens.

Manneken Pis is a beautiful statue, or you could say the essence of this attractive city. There are many stories hidden under this statue that locals in Brussels can tell you about.

The Grand Sablon is a hip square with antique stores, restaurants and cafes.

The train station is located on the lower level of Brussels International Airport, which makes it very convenient to get to the city. There is a train service that runs from the airport to Brussels North, South and Central stations. The shuttle leaves from the station every 15-20 minutes, and the trip takes about 20 minutes. Another good alternative for getting around Brussels is to use public transportation such as a taxi to Brussels airport, which takes about 30 minutes and includes buses and cabs.

Since Brussels is a major international business center, hotel rates increase during the week. Plan a weekend getaway, vacation or summer vacation.

If you are flying somewhere for business or pleasure, you need to do a few things in advance. We need to do the normal things like book tickets and pack. Another thing to think about is how to get to and from the airport. If you have ever traveled by plane, you are aware of the complications that could arise if you just get to and from the airport.With rising airport parking prices and the inconvenient nature of public transportation, hiring a licensed brussels airport taxi may be the best option for you.

We are all aware of how congested airports can get, so booking a taxi brussels airport before your travel dates will save you time and money. When booking this cab, you can specify the size and type of vehicle you need, as well as the number of people who will be traveling and the amount of luggage that will be transported.

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frontproofmedia · 2 years

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April 23: Heavyweight Titans Fury & Whyte Collide at Wembley Stadium

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Published: February 26, 2022

Tyson “The Gyspy King” Fury to defend heavyweight crown against top contender Dillian Whyte at Wembley Stadium LIVE on Pay-Per-View with tickets going on sale on Wednesday, March 2.

LONDON (Feb. 25, 2022) — After storming the United States with a pair of knockouts over Deontay Wilder, WBC/Lineal/Ring Magazine heavyweight world champion Tyson Fury returns home for an all-British battle against WBC interim champion Dillian Whyte on Saturday, April 23 at London’s Wembley Stadium connected by EE. Fury-Whyte will be broadcast live on Pay-Per-View in the U.S. Promoted by Frank Warren's Queensberry Promotions and Top Rank, tickets will be on sale exclusively from Ticketmaster at midday on Wednesday, March 2. Fans hoping to purchase a ticket for the event are encouraged to sign-up for Ticket Alert emails HERE to receive the ticket link direct to their inboxes. News on undercard bouts will be announced shortly. "Tyson Fury coming home to fight under the arch at Wembley Stadium is a fitting reward for the No.1 heavyweight in the world following his exploits across the Atlantic in his epic trilogy against Deontay Wilder," stated Hall of Fame promoter Frank Warren. "The fact that this mandatory defense of his WBC title comes against another Brit only adds to the occasion. They are two of the biggest characters in British sport and both normally have plenty to say for themselves. "It is going to be an incredible night and a huge occasion for sport in this country that will capture the imagination of fans right across the world." Bob Arum, chairman of Top Rank, added: "Tyson Fury conquered America, and it is only fitting that he defends the heavyweight championship in a packed Wembley Stadium. Dillian Whyte has called for this fight for years, and while he is a deserving challenger, no heavyweight can match ‘The Gypsy King.’ This is going to be a momentous night of boxing with tens of thousands of fans in attendance at Wembley Stadium.” Fury (31-0-1, 22 KOs), based in Morecambe, has held the lineal heavyweight title since November 28, 2015, the night he ended the nearly decade-long championship run of Wladimir Klitschko. Following over two years of inactivity, he returned to action in June 2018, inspiring millions with a comeback that saw him fighting for the world title within six months of his June 2018 comeback victory over Sefer Seferi in Manchester. The only blemish on his record — a disputed December 2018 draw against Wilder — was avenged with stoppage wins over the American star in February 2020 and October 2021. The Dillian Whyte showdown marks his first bout in London since February 2015. Whyte (28-2, 19 KOs), who was raised in Brixton, London, earned a shot at Fury with a seven-year run as a world-level heavyweight. Following a seventh-round TKO loss to Anthony Joshua in 2015 — when both were undefeated prospects — Whyte went on an 11-fight winning streak that included triumphs over Joseph Parker, Oscar Rivas, Lucas Browne, and Derek Chisora (2x). His momentum, and mandatory position, was halted when Alexander Povetkin knocked him out with a single left uppercut in August 2020. Whyte exacted revenge in March 2021, knocking out Povetkin in four rounds to regain his interim title.

#HF #Tyson Fury #Dillian Whyte #Heavyweight Boxing #Top Rank Boxing

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fun-travel-more · 2 years

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Top Sites to visit in Paris

“An artist has no home in Europe except in Paris.”

- Friedrich Nietzsche

Paris – the city of love and lights, scarcely you will find any globetrotter or traveler who hasn’t or doesn’t want to visit the French city. No matter where you turn, you will find a culture rich in art and history.

Audrey Hepburn once said “Paris is always a good idea” and we can’t help but agree. In this article, let us tell you about some of the hop-spots and top sites to visit if you ever find yourself in Paris.

1. Cathedral Notre-Dame

Did you know that the Eiffel Tower is not the most visited monument in Paris, the honor belongs to “Notre-Dame”?

One of Paris' most iconic symbols, Notre Dame is a Roman Catholic cathedral widely regarded as one of Europe’s greatest examples of French Gothic architecture. This cathedral began construction in 1163 and was completed in 1345, is a marvel to behold with its entrances surrounded by many sculptures and gargoyles that grace the ceiling.

Get an up-close view of the famous gargoyles by climbing the 387 stairs to the top and a spectacular birds-eye panoramic view of Île de la Cité. Also, a stroll around the exterior of the medieval cathedral is a must.

2. Louvre Museum

The Louvre was built as a fortress during the 12th and 13th centuries and has been restored numerous times since then. The art museum originally opened its doors in 1793. The Louvre is the world's largest art museum, featuring 35,000 artworks on display, with a total area of 210,000 square meters.

Book your tickets in advance to avoid the exhausting queues or take a guided tour to admire the Louvre’s most famous attraction- Leonardo Da Vinci’s “Mona Lisa” and her mysterious smile, other noteworthy works include the ancient symbol of feminine beauty "Venus de Milo”, "winged victory of Samothrace”, the stele inscribed with "The code of Hammurabi", "the sphinx of Tanis" and many more paintings, artifacts, and relics dating back up to five thousand years.

3. Eiffel Tower

Gustave Eiffel designed and built it to mark the French Revolution's centennial, the Eiffel Tower is Paris' most recognizable structure and is considered as one of the seven wonders of the modern world. The tower is 324 high and a technological marvel getting an estimated seven million visitors, annually. The second floor provides the best view at 115 meters above ground and the third floor at a height of 275 meters, you can visit Gustave Eiffel's office. If you are up for an adventure, then challenge yourself to climb to the top, by walking the 1665 stairs.

The view from above and on top of the tower is unrivaled, the stunning and magnificent sights of the entire city of Paris are something that demands to be seen.

4. Montmartre

Montmartre is a 130-meter-high hill in Paris's northwestern outskirts of Paris. The white-domed Basilica of the Sacred Heart, located at the summit, is its most famous feature.

It was finished in 1919 and is dedicated to the French victims of the Franco-Prussian War of 1870.

Many artists set up their easels in the Square of Tertre, a few blocks from the Basilica, to paint tourists or exhibit their work that visitors should consider checking out. The Place du Tertre is a reminder of the early twentieth-century period when Montmartre was the epicenter of modern art, with famous and talented artists such as Modigliani, Monet, Picasso, and van Gogh, having worked there. You can also visit the “Espace Salvador Dalí”- a museum dedicated to the works of the painter.

5. Arc de Triomphe

Napoleon commissioned the design of a triumphal arch dedicated to the glories of imperial forces influenced by ancient Roman architecture. It is the world's largest monument of its kind.

The monument stands 50 meters tall, 45 meters wide, and 22 meters deep on the Place de l'Etoile, with pillars adorned with stunning sculptures and the names of 558 generals, as well as major triumphs, are inscribed on the arc's summit. The Tomb of the Unknown Soldier of France is located underneath. The terrace above the doors offers a majestic view of the city.

6. Palace of Versailles

It is France's most well-known chateau, built in the 17th century as a symbol of French military prowess and a demonstration of French supremacy in Europe.

This massive complex of buildings, gardens, and terraces is a must-see for any visitor, you will be enchanted by the luxurious accommodations, opulent furnishings, and gilded Renaissance pieces of art plus a tour of the famed “French Gardens” is highly recommended.

#palaceofversailleslouvermuseum

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simmyseo · 3 years

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Flights To Paris

Beautiful places to visit in Paris Bonjour Mon Ami! Paris needs no conventional presentation - interchangeable with culture, design, food and style. That je ne sais quoi of the French capital makes it the fantasy goal for some. So would you need to leave Paris 'Before Sunset' or would you take our statement and spend a '12 PM in Paris'?! Paris is one of the dream locations of many worldwide. And we make that wish fulfilled by helping you out with our flights to Paris from Calgary. Although there are flights from several other locations of Canada, these Calgary to Paris flights take you to this dreamy place exactly the way you wish. Enjoy your flights from Calgary to Paris after booking one from our place. One of the best craftsmanship stores on the planet, holding masterful family in any semblance of Renoir, Rodin, Picasso, Monet and Van Gogh. The superb Louver, uncommon impressionist assortments and the Center Pompidou's advanced and contemporary workmanship, a plenty of littler exhibition halls displaying assortments in each class possible. Eiffel tower Extended high in the skies of Paris, the notable Eiffel Tower is likely the most notable image of the nation, France. Fabricated at first as a brief structure, the pinnacle is at present among the most visited locales on the planet and has transformed into a commended case of a coincidental style of design. It is situated on the Champ de Mars space and has the guests on its three levels â€“ with cafÃ©s on the initial two stories and the perception deck on the third. The night show here is a scene to not pass up a major opportunity as the 'Iron Lady' shimmers in her wonderful lights for around 5 minutes consistently. Immediately book low cost airline tickets and come here to see Eiffel tower. Eiffel Tower, one of the best things in the world! Take one of our flights to Paris from Edmonton to get there. We have everything you will ever need in Edmonton to Paris flights. So go ahead with booking one of our flights from Edmonton to Paris to get to this tourist location we all dream to be in at least for once. The Louvre Rich and extravagant in style, the French gallery of Louver is a milestone landmark in the city Paris which stands tall with the tag of world's biggest exhibition hall. It is housed in the Louver Palace on the banks of the Seine and has noteworthy craftsmanship assortments in the divisions of Egyptian collectibles, Greek, Etruscan and Roman Antiquities, Islamic Art, Sculptures, Decorative Arts, Paintings, Prints and Drawings with the Mona Lisa by Leonardo Da Vinci as the most popular show. The Carrousel and Tuileries Gardens are other verifiable destinations here with an outdoors design exhibition hall, whose pathways lead to the Louver. Notre Dame The Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris is a great image of French Gothic design with a history crossing across hundreds of years. Situated on the ÃŽle de la CitÃ© Island, this house of prayer is among the most well known ones over the world and brags of a great inside with recolored rose windows, relics, ringers and organs. This church, in any case, has had a lot of incidents, with the latest one being the staggering fire of April 2019 because of which it currently stays shut to guests for remodel work. The Arc de Triomphe The Arc de Triomphe, otherwise called the Arch of Triumph, is the most amazing of all the triumphal curves in Paris, France. The Neoclassical design style of this curve holds inside itself a convention of model from the mid nineteenth Century. The curve was worked in recognition of and to respect martyred fighters who gave their lives for the nation during the administration of Napoleon. It represents the pride of the French and celebrates each successful fight won by the French head. History may be one of the reasons some may be visiting the place through our flights to Paris from Vancouver. The flights from Vancouver to Paris not only take you to Paris safely, but these Vancouver to Paris flights also guarantee inexpensive flights and other bookings such as those of hotels. So take a peek into the history of Paris through us. SacrÃ©-CÅ“ur The Basilica of the Sacred Heart of Paris, normally known as the SacrÃ©-CÅ“ur is a Roman Catholic church and a basilica, arranged on the Montmartre slope in Paris, France. It is devoted to the Sacred Heart of Jesus, which speaks to the adoration for Jesus Christ. The basilica is the second most elevated purpose of the city, close to the Eiffel Tower, because of its situation on the Montmartre slope. There is additionally a perception deck that is situated at the highest purposes of the focal arch. These perception focuses will convey to you charming perspectives on the gleaming brilliant city of Paris festooned in its fantastic artfulness. Look for this wonderful thing atleast once, but prior book cheap flight tickets to Paris. Montmartre Montmartre, a high-raised town suburb, offers path to the absolute most pleasant scenes in Paris. Numerous craftsmen of the past period have been motivated and impacted by Montmartre - from Picasso, Van Gogh to Renoir and Monet. Numerous painters and specialists have lived for a short time in this provincial neighborhood and their impressions can in any case be felt in the Montmartre the suburbs. A portion of the must visit attractions in Montmartre are Sacre Coeur, Church of St. Pierre, Sinking House of Montmartre, Moulin Rogue, Place du Tertre, Le Mur des Je t'aime and numerous others. Saint-Germain-des-Pres Holy person Germain-des-Pres is a quarter situated in the sixth arrondissement of Paris, France. It is flanked by the River Seine on the north, which affirms for its lovely perspectives. It is the origin of numerous non-conventionalist thoughts with the end goal that its dissimilar propensities sit easily close to age-old Parisian engineering and magnificence. The quarter is known for its assortment of road shops, book shops, celebrated bistros and distributing houses. The prominent school of expressive arts, the Ecole des Beaux-Arts and the Musee national Eugene Delacroix, previous loft and studio of painter Eugene Delacroix are additionally situated around there Place de la Concorde The Place de la Concorde is the biggest open square in the French capital and one of the significant squares in Paris, France. The square, structured by Ange-Jacques Gabriel in 1755, is octagonal and is flanked by nurseries, lodgings, and significant sculptures on each point. The two wellsprings, Fountain of River Commerce and Navigation, and the Maritime Fountain, that go back to the hour of Louis-Philippe and the excellent perspective on the Eiffel Tower on one side, and the River Seine alongside it makes Place de la Concorde an absolute necessity visit. It additionally contains the prestigious Obelisk that goes back to old Egyptian occasions. There are brilliant attractions that are available close to Place de la Concorde, for example, Palais Bourbon, Jeu de Paume, Roue de Paris, Tuileries Garden, and Musee de l'Orangerie. Les Catacomb de Paris Paris isn't all sentimental, in reality the Catacombs are very nerve chilling! A maze of faintly lit passages, a visit through the Parisian ossuary isn't suggested for the cowardly. This underground space holds somewhere in the range of 6,000,000 bones of the expired after burial grounds in Paris got immersed. Ensure you are in solid footwear since the passage way is rock loaded, lopsided and even tricky now and again. One of the most mainstream spots of fascination in Paris, an early morning visit is prescribed to stay away from lines. The tomb's pathways are labyrinth like and thus a guide is basic. You would not have any desire to get lost here! While these most beautiful locations in Paris will take your heart, our flights to Paris from Toronto may also do the same to you. Thatâ€™s because of the highly comfortable Toronto to Paris flights journey you will be having with family. Thatâ€™s also because the flights from Toronto to Paris let you experience cheap flights and a lot of savings. I hope you you like the list of most beautiful places to visit in Paris , hence book online flight reservation and enjoy the tour of Paris with your family and friends.

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