#i would have this picture in a black simple frame over my desk surrounded by my stones and leaves

[pricklenettle]

When You Dream of Falling

The prompt comes from @ghostgothgeek

WC: 3416

Prompt: Nocturne is back, bringing both pleasant dreams and nightmares to team Phantom. (PR276)

Sometimes dreams are more dangerous than nightmares.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/38587677

Vlad ran his hands through the ashes. They were so fine, they clung to his gloves, drifting away in little eddies every time he stirred them. That unstoppable elation bubbled up in his chest, rising up to choke him. The earth was his, the heavens were his to their fullest extents, he’d gifted them to his son before he’d burned it all to the ground.

The sun was rising red and bloody, as though the skies were still burning from his whims. But other than the distant sun there was no other light except for his own ghostly aura glimming the blackened fields. His mansion. Leveled to the ground and those inside cremated.

He sat back, suddenly starting to feel a little sick. His hands fell into his lap, ash flaking onto his pants. His ghost’s core felt sore, flickering like a candle flame. The wind picked up, swirling the ashes together in an unnaturally tight whirlwind. First Danny’s legs appeared, the ash flying around so thickly Vlad didn’t notice immediately. The ash rebuilt itself quickly, regaining color as it went. Beside him, Maddie’s ashes started to reconstruct as well. Vlad watched numbly. 

Danny was moving before his neck was finished. He stumbled toward Vlad, tipping over a shattered beam. His palms when he rose were blackened. The ash had now given him a mouth to speak. “I’m so sorry I displeased you, Father. I’ll do better next time.”

Vlad choked on his reply. “It’s okay Daniel.” He trailed off, eyes drifting to Maddy who stood rocking slightly to the breeze, rebuilt up to the cleavage.

Danny’s contrite mouth immediately twisted into a brilliant smile, forgetting all that had come before— the burning heat, pleads unheaded, Vlad’s ectoplasm roaring into an inferno that ate away skin and bone. At first, Danny had helped him burn down the world, simple green ectoblasts joining Vlad’s.

Danny fell to his knees beside Vlad like a puppy. One brilliant blue eye stared up at him with adoration. The other side of his head was still hollow, stained pitch black with flurries of soot flickering over the empty space. 

“Father, can you teach me more about my powers? You know so much.”

A shiver ran down his spine when a light hand rested on his shoulder. Maddy smiled down at him. She sat on his other side to lean on him. “Or I could make you some cookies if you’d like.”

All around them the ash flushed up in dark clouds, obscuring the sunrise. Although such speeds could only belong to a hurricane, his cape only rippled gently in the breeze from before. Walls grew up around them, black obelisks that slowly regained color, like tissue paper touched to a bowl of dye. A polished floor shot out from where they huddled, glass clinked back into windows, pictures unfurled on the walls quickly surrounded by their frames, outside he could see green leeching back into his gardens, and further than that, slowly rising black forms that might be Amity Park. 

Maddy kissed his cheek. “What would you like to do now, my love?”

“If you destroy us again, we’ll forgive you.” Danny jumped in, voice high and whining. “But the Packers are on, they’d be sad if you didn’t watch your own football team.” Danny jumped to his feet, pulling Vlad’s hand.

Maddy rose as gracefully as a swallow, she wandered toward the t.v. room, beckoning.

And Vlad wept. Great wracking sobs like he had never cried before.

…

Danny grabbed Vlad’s shoulders and shook him wildly, growing more and more concerned. He’d found him with his head on his desk, still sitting in his mayor chair. Vlad’s eyes slid open, pupils glassy and vague. Danny let go and he flopped out of his chair, prone to the floor. Danny stared at him.

Vlad was always trying to be one step better than him, an older halfa who should have a right to demand respect, always put together, he’d never seen him like this. Rumpled suit, gray hair a fly, a thin trickle of drool oozing onto the carpet. Danny stumbled back a step into the wall, gathering an ectoblast in his palm.

“Vlad, if you’re faking this…” Well, Danny would do his best to smash the creep’s face in, just like always. That was almost a comforting thought to fall back on.

“You seem upset, little ghost boy,” a soft guttural voice broke the silence.

Danny wasn’t surprised when all the shadows in the room lengthened to converge before Vlad’s head, stretching up into a figure so tall his ram horns brushed the ceiling. Stars blinked awake in his inky cloak. 

Danny pointed the ectoblast at him. “Nocturne, what did you do?”

Nocturne bent over him, taking up his entire field of vision. He smiled gently, his vivid red eyes squinting into somehow calming lines. “Why so threatening? Aren’t you happy to see me?”

Danny squared his shoulders, pressing further against the wall. “You sent the entire town to sleep so you could feed on our dreams. I’d say, no. The opposite really. Now answer my question.”

Nocturne's smile fell and he looked actually hurt. Instead of answering, he drifted around Vlad’s office, hands behind his back, shadows shifting in sync with him like dogs anxious to please. He examined the paintings Vlad had hung, a sad smile playing about his lips. “I came back to Amity because I want to talk with you, little ghost.”

“Why,” Danny growled. Nocturne’s voice summoned feelings of a grandfather telling bedtime stories, hoarse and honeyed at once. It sent his ghost’s core off its guard, humming along pleasantly, it was a struggle to keep the ectoblast bright and threatening in his palm.

“It’s clear there’s been a misunderstanding, it’s important to me that we set this right. Plus it’s always pleasant to speak with another lover of stars.”

Danny blushed green, dim stars flickering over his cheeks for a fraction of a second. He stepped over Vlad, launching into the air to hover next to Nocturne. He pushed down the urge to start gushing about space with an enemy. “You still haven't explained what you did to Vlad.”

“I’m surprised you’re concerned for that soul sucker, you might not be so protective if you knew what was in his dreams,” Nocturne said with distaste.

Danny gagged. “I don’t want to know, but the fruit loop is the only other halfa I know. I would appreciate it if you let him go.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Nocturne admitted, drifting like a dandelion puff up through the ceiling.

Danny made an annoyed noise and followed Nocturne into an attic. Danny’s head clipped through a box of Christmas lights. He grimaced and pulled himself free. The attic was filled with paraphernalia from forgotten elections, the banners were unreadable in the darkness.

“Have you noticed that all the older ghosts almost always have stable obsessions that could never be satisfied.”

No, he hadn’t, but a bad feeling was spreading fast in his gut. He chased Nocturne up onto the roof. 

The yellow moon crowned the night sky, smiling down on the quiet Amity Park from an aquamarine cloth embroidered with low fluffy clouds, flecked from below by green and amber streetlights. Nocturne held the only stars in the sky tonight. Nocturne stretched out his arm, inky claws cradling the city.

“The ones who can find an end always pass on sooner, dissolving into the final peaceful slumber. When there is no more urgent need or obsession driving you on, holding you together, there’s no more reason to exist.”

“That’s sad,” Danny said, crossing his arms. “Your point?”

Nocturne chuckled. “All ghost stories are sad, little ghost. But I believe that the ones who go that way are quite happy to finally be at peace. My point is, that it’s about time you found out why I am so feared in the immortal realms.”

Danny jumped back, ready to fend off attacks, but Nocturne simply kept flying. Danny would lose him if he didn’t follow. So he kept his distance, just close enough he could still hear him over the slowly rising wind. 

“Alright, tell me then, since you’re not going to demonstrate.”

“Oh, I already have. One good dream and my enemies disappear from this immortal coil.”

Danny froze, watching the back of Nocturne’s cloak twinkle with spiraling constellations. The calm brutality of that sentence had thrown him off. He didn’t like this at all. If Vlad went and died in a ditch in the ghost zone— or literally anywhere else at all, Danny wouldn’t even blink, but for the idiot to come to harm in Amity Park— however much deserved, that just didn’t sit right with him.

“Anything can happen in a dream, even the most impossible obsessions can be retold as reality in their heads.” 

“But, Vlad is half alive, he couldn’t just dissolve like that.”

“Indeed, I am intrigued to find out what happens. Will he simply pass away leaving nothing behind? Or will you be able to keep him alive with IVs and breathing tubes, machines beeping away his heart rate until the last of his gleaming life drips away. Perhaps he’ll survive, simply unable to access his other form. I wonder what a man can do without a soul.”

Danny hunched over, crossing his arms. A torrent of emotions washed through him. He’d messed up. Vlad could be dead or worse, and what was he doing just following the killer around like some kind of sheep. Nocturne dipped down and Danny finally realized where he was going.

Danny rushed in front of him, throwing out his hands. “No way am I letting you anywhere near Sam’s house.”

Nocturne slowed, just cocking his head. “But greenhouses are such calming places, and your Sam keeps hers so peaceful.”

“I thought you just wanted to have a friendly talk, Nocturne— if you even know what that means. There’s no reason to bring my friends into it.”

“I was simply trying to think for your own sake,”

“What do you mean?”

Nocturne kept coming, closing in on Danny with that same mild expression. Nocturne was huge, Danny realized once again, his shadowy body could cover a king-sized bed. Danny found himself backing up despite himself. His heels hit the glass roof of Sam's greenhouse. He glanced down, startled, he hadn’t realized how close they’d gotten.

Danny forced ectoblasts around his fists, gritting his teeth. “Stop messing with me.”

“But you’re such fun to play with, and your dreams have such detail, I would have been sad if Vlad had snuffed out such a wonderful creature.”

“I’m not a toy, and neither is anyone else in Amity Park. I thought you said you only sent dreams to your enemies.”

He wanted to shoot Nocturne down, but the ancient ghost was just so huge, he took up the entire sky. Danny could see nothing but stars. 

Nocturne put a grandfatherly hand on his head. “Of course, I would never. Your soul will live a long time if I have anything to say about it.”

Danny shook him off, kicking off the glass to float weightlessly backward, like taking a step on the moon. “What about the time you tried to take over the entire town from the mattress factory?” he accused. 

Nocturne had the audacity to chuckle, a soft wistful smile crossing his face as though recalling sweet memories. “Yes, that was a delightful playtime.” Danny made an aghast noise but Nocturne waved it away. He tapped his temple. “Dream helmets, a nightmare army, a final showdown that you had to face with your little Sam, you have such a powerful imagination.”

Danny gaped. “What are you talking about?”

Nocturne swooped closer, those red eyes wide in an adoring smile, clawed hands hovering on either side of his head. “From the first moment it was all your dream. I brought those things into your normal reality so all of Amity could experience it. Don’t you remember those things that didn’t fit? That shouldn’t make sense? No one ever questions a dream they’re in. Don’t worry, I would never, ever manipulate your obsession to make an end of you. It was such a splendid dream though, with ups and downs, fear, and moments of comfort, I was able to introduce you to my lair, and I met your loved ones. I think it was a rather perfect first impression.” Nocturne preened, but he seemed honestly just as proud of Danny’s dream as the power and control it must have taken to impose it upon the human world. “I was so impressed and had such fun, I’ve returned often to continue the acquaintance. Since then, you’ve grown precious to me.”

“You’re why my nightmares have gotten worse,” Danny said numbly. His fists had drifted down to his sides. 

“Exactly, the amount of horror your core can withstand is truly amazing. Every time I bring in a new terror, you make it ever increasingly worse. Most would have folded long ago, their cores cracked beyond repair, but not you, my little ghost. You only seem to get stronger, dreams more gruesome than before.”

Nocturne's claws closed in to cup Danny’s face. “I can’t wait to see what you’ll become.”

“Danny!”

It was Sam’s voice. Danny jerked out of Nocturne's grip, skirting away from him with fists once again blazing. Sam had crawled out of her window, inching along a narrow lip toward where they floated above her greenhouse. The wind made her black hair flair wildly, purple glinting in her dark locks like the arms of a nebula. It was a long drop to the manicured lawn below, and the greenhouse was even higher. 

“Sam, you should get back inside.”

Nocturne was slinking along the glass roof, shadows suctioned to it like a remora. His red eyes stared indecipherable at Sam. Danny fired his ectoblast. It seared through Nocturne's outstretched arm, he hissed and flinched back, but within moments his cloak of stars had knitted back together. 

“Don’t go near her,” he growled. The first hard drops of rain hit his head.

Nocturne had the gall to smile. “I’m not the only fate she should fear.”

Sam was still climbing toward them. Now he could see the wrist-ray around her arm. She’d been so excited to get that. She waved it in the air threateningly, wobbling a little from the slick footing. “Get away from Danny, goat face.” She reached up, grabbing onto a window sill. Grunting she hoisted herself up, toward a higher roof, socked feet slipping on the window pane. 

Danny cringed and flew forward to help her, but Nocturne took advantage of his distraction to tackle him to the roof. Danny shouted in frustration, shooting an ectoblast through Nocturne's left arm. He rolled, his world a confusion of night sky and misty green glass. When he righted himself, panting opposite Nocturne, Sam had cleared the window and was running toward them over the slick shingles. The rain was pounding now, distant thunder rumbled.

 Again, Danny tried to get to her, but Nocturne went invisible. Danny tensed and then his chin snapped back from a blow. Another landed on his nose and he immediately felt it start to drip down his lip, bright glowing fresh ectoplasm pattering to the glass below. Eyes watering, Danny spun in a slow circle, keeping his fists up over his face. 

“Why are you doing this? Why did you even bring me here?”

“I wanted to spend time with my favorite little ghost! In my defense, I planned to leave you inside the greenhouse, I thought you’d prefer that over being found in the ex-mayor’s office.”

The cool voice came from the right. Danny lashed out, only to be playfully boxed on the left ear. Sam was level with them now. Their gazes met over the gap between her house and the greenhouse roof. Danny frantically shook his head but Sam ignored him. She put her chin down and ran for the edge.

Her leap across the gap seemed to stretch into an eternity. Legs stretched out like a ballerina, arms flapping wildly as though she could fly if she set her mind to it.

Danny shouted and rocketed toward her, his unexpected speed knocking Nocturne out of the way. He caught her. Just as her eyes started to panic when her flight dipped below the edge of the greenhouse. Danny wobbled in the air a moment, accounting for the human weight, then corkscrewed up into the sky. Sam’s arms were around his neck, eyes glowing, wide as violets. 

“Thank you.” Her lip quirked upward. “And I was trying to save you.”

“You did,” he assured her, a no doubt dorky smile on his face. “I like to return the favor sometimes.”

The buffeting wind had died to a breeze that just touched Sam's bangs, loose strands of hair flicking around her pink cheeks. Through the dark clouds, a sky full of stars sparkled above them, millions of glass shards hung in the heavens just for them, just for tonight. 

Wait, Danny’s thoughts stumbled, there had only been the moon visible tonight. 

The sky cracked. White violet light filled his vision, the same instant thunder clapped in his ears. His mouth opened in a silent scream. The familiar pain of electricity scrambling through every nerve burned every thought away except fear and panic. He didn’t know when Sam slipped through his arms, black fingernails grasping for him, the gentle flick of her hair against his numb hand. 

Danny fell out of the sky. Smoke and ectoplasm bubbling up from his paralyzed form. 

Sam called his name. 

He forced his eyes open, squinting up (down) through the hot tears zigzagging over his face. Sam fell below him, scrabbling at the air as though she was begging it to catch her. It was the ground that listened instead.

An edge of Nocturne's starry cloak wrapped around his waist, slowing his fall till Nocturne could just roll him onto the greenhouse roof. Danny stared at his hands, curled uselessly beside him. Everything had looked so real, but it couldn’t be. There were no stars tonight except for Nocturne’s. He grabbed onto that thought with both hands and all his life. He pushed himself up, the glass freezing against his knuckles. He drifted upright so he could glare at Nocturne, loathing pouring out of his mouth. “You got me again, but that was a mistake.”

Nocturne just clapped his hands with a cheerful smile. “You’re learning, oh, what a good job, little ghost!” Nocturne cooed. “You really should tell that girl how you feel.”

Danny snarled and launched himself across the roof. Nocturne's eyes gleamed proudly. Stars filled his vision, zapping by him like electric charged fireflies. Nocturne made a tiny wave and Danny’s eyes snapped shut. He dropped like a rock, landing in a sprawl on the glass roof.

He didn't get up.

…

Nocturne smiled benignly down on the little ghost boy. A few small rivulets of ectoplasm leaked out of him to pool and run across the misty glass. Out of his nose, the scrapes on his knuckles, from beneath his eyelashes, but Danny was a strong little one, he could handle this and so much more. His fingers and small face muscles twitched in the thrall of a more ordinary nightmare. Nocturne knelt, his cloak rippling against the glass. He rested his hand on the boy’s hair, stroking it gently back into place. He smiled again, fondness warming the huge expanse of his core. 

Perhaps in the morning Sam (who had just started up in bed from a dream of falling) would wander into her greenhouse and look up to find the little ghost sound asleep through the glass above. If not, perhaps it would be days before they found him. That was all right, Danny was strong, and Nocturne would take very good care of him. 

Nocturne would not let a single dream of contentment soften his core. Formed by lightning but quenched in nightmares, Danny’s soul would last far longer than a billion, billion years. 

Nocturne smiled softly as he drifted off on the night breeze. It was nice to have someone to talk to again. 

Before he left, he lulled Sam back down into dreams of lightning and burning and a wailing silhouette in a blinding green tunnel. After all, he couldn’t let the little ghost’s sweetheart disappear on them either. 

#phic phight 2022 #Danny Phantom #ghost cores #tw: death #character death #nocturne #sam manson #implied character death #my writing #danny fenton #Nocturne is a grandfather #or at the very least a weird crazy uncle

[youwontlikethisblog]

Betty, My Betty! Part 2.5 (Hopefully the last one)

Alrighty, I think this will be my last post for tonight? This morning? But it is still in the same vine of Armando being possessive so he is the main subject of this breakdown but I will also be discussing Mario a lot here so this in an attempt to be the final post regarding this episode will be a lengthy one.

Again I accidently bought the bootleg version of the novela so some scenes and episodes are missing as well as the chapters aren't titled.

We are in the same episode of Armando reacting to Betty having a boyfriend.

Right now Betty is exiting her office, she just hung up the phone with Nicolas who warned her that they needed to pay a loan to the bank because their 24 or 27 days were up.

Mario is leaning over Armando's desk and Armando is leaning forward as they are both discussing and whispering (that part is so short you can't really pick at what they're talking about but you can imagine what it is. I'm assuming that while Mario was telling Armando not to question or judge Betty on her personal life that Betty was in her office on the phone with Nicolas and when Mario leaned forward to talk to Armando Betty was about to end her call so they are essentially talking about how to go about finding out who Betty's boyfriend is) something I cannot hear. As Betty fully exits her office Mario moves from being up front to in the back of the room by the doors that take us to the meeting room. He looks Betty down and up as if checking her out.

This small frame(I don't know if when they were whispering it was them arguing over Mario's proposal of the plan or if Mario hadn't proposed it yet and it was just them talking about how to find out who Nicolas is because again, since this bootleg version isn't the complete one some scenes are missing so I could be wrong about this one! but the episode I saw on NBC showed the exact same scene so I'm going by the first "(red)" in the paragraph above) allows us to depict Mario coming up or starting to scheme the plan.

We know Mario Calderon will screw anything that has legs, wears skirts, and breathes and consents that is(<-hopefully). Every woman who has had a seggsual relationship with him has said so. Marcela warned Paty about it before they got involved so I'm assuming that in this scene Mario is checking out Betty to see if it's possible for someone to really love(lust) her and if not than he needs to figure out a plan and a way to convince Armando to follow through said plan.

When you're writing a novel you write down the key points you want to make but as you imagine certain scenes you really delve into detail of characterization. You make sure that whatever happens in that scene that your characters behave as themselves. So you really spend time getting to know your characters. This is a general rule of thumb for any creative writer. The plus of being a novelist or writing literature is that you can really go deep into details and write scenes in really long poetic ways. I don't know how to write scripts but I've read some from TV shows I've watched and they are written differently than a novel. Scripts have more dialogue than poetic descriptions and they are usually blunt with what the writer wants from each character in that scene.

For example: (Take this with a grain of salt I don't know how to write scripts I am going off based on how I've read them)

Ana walks into the room. The camera focuses on her face. There's lighting outside and we see the lighting flash on her face.

Julian turns to see her. He is surprised to see her. He thought she was dead. He stands up slowly. The camera focuses on his face and then Ana's.

She smiles at him, tears forming in her eyes.

"Is that re-really you?" He stutters. He then walks slowly towards her.

In a script you write where the camera goes, where the actors move, the facial expressions, the mood of the room, and so forth. Yes directors do have a say on how they choreograph scenes and actors can add their own two cents but script writers have a pretty good idea of everything that is going on the scene and why it is. If in novel writing(that's not the correct term) we focus a lot on how the reader will imagine the scene and being able to correctly and artistically discribe it as well as how they will understand it because we are not focusing on visual cues like script writers but rather focused on using words to be able to paint a inner visual picture than in scripts the writer usually focuses on tone and movement. The same rule still stands though; show don't tell.

Why do I even bring this up?

This helps us understand that what is shown here isn't just an accident. We aren't being fed what we're told, we are being fed what we see. What we see is the final vision of the writer. Fernando Gaitan was the only one to write this novel and he wrote every detail with the intention of it to mean something.

I have no doubt that the actors added their own flavor as they are excellent actors and the reason why we were able to fall in love with these character. The directing is amazing as well. The scene cuts, the frames, and the choreo are amazing(tho some stills are funny and y'all know which ones) but the writing has a lot to do with it. If anyone is a script writer or knows what that's about correct me if I'm wrong!

I say this because what we are being told and shown is that Armando had feelings for Betty and not a crush like Betty did. He actually cared about her, as a friend. I know many don't agree with that because Armando was a crappy boss. We see them always interact as boss and employee but the reason why I continue to bring up the fact that he started to blur those lines is because we were being told and shown that.

Armando is mechanical. He is emotionless to the outsiders. As he once told Betty that she probably thinks he is a man of ice and later on in the future we see Betty daydream telling Marcela that she knows Armando acts like he's got a heart of stone but deep inside of him he needs a lot of love. However Armando isn't a man of iron and he tells that to Betty himself.

We are told this but what are we shown?

We are shown an erratic, often driven by emotion, and neutronic person. Now the people he has surrounded himself with aren't the most loving and welcoming people. They are pretty judgy and stuck up. So often the emotions he shows and knows how to distinguish well are anger, frustration, and most of all being erratic with the emotions mentioned above. These emotions drive him. The people around him think that he is a man of stone and that nothing moves him. However we then meet a woman who isn't like that at all or like any of the people he has surrounded himself with.

This person is kind, loving, respectful, and sweet to everyone. She loves her job, loves her friends, loves her family and secretly loves her boss. In a very poetic way Betty is color in an otherwise black and white world. She brings warmth to Armando and because they work so closely, how is he not supposed to be affected by this? How is he not supposed to be changed and moved by this?

He is an awe of her morals, of Betty's qualities and her general presence and though we aren't bluntly told this by the characters themselves we are shown this and it's not by accident and not by mistakes of post production.

Take a break if you need it.

It isn't an accident that we see Mario so much in these scenes just standing in the background taking it all in because he truly is the mastermind behind Betty's downfall. He truly mapped out and planned the way to seduce Betty and how to manipulate Armando and didn't even care if it hurt her or his best friend. What he cared about was that his best friend remained President because titles mean everything to him. As we saw in the past when Armando and him were arguing over the deal with the Panamanian fabric seller, while Armando focused on how it not only affected him and the major shareholders but everyone, Mario reminded him that he was also a minority shareholder, but a shareholder nonetheless. Armando's inner turmoil was that he was jeopardizing the livelihood of not only the company's shareholders, and his family but the entire company's employee roster while Mario was more focused on himself, telling him that he too had a lot to lose but not understanding what really weighted down Armando's shoulders.

Think about it, Mario in a sense is a leech. He gets the crumbs of women Armando doesn't want. If I'm not mistaken in the spinoff Eco Moda Mario himself says that women only ever showed interest in him because they wanted to get close to Armando. Mario lives off of the crumbs of Armando, not only with women but socially. Armando is one of the major shareholders of Eco Moda, he's attractive, charismatic, and an important figure in society and not only among the Fashion world like Mario is. Mario Calderon wasn't going to let his best friend lose the title of being President for anything because than it would be bad for him. It would be bad for his reputation to have been his close friend and accomplice to Armando while also being a part of a disastrous presidency term in the company.

Mario is charismatic, one could even say a lot more than Armando seeing as I myself even like him even when I know all of this about his character. I find him funny, charming, and at times endearing but of course that's when you look at him on a surface level.

Mario Calderon is despicable. He is downright selfish and egocentric down to the bone. He maps out this plan so easily because he knows his two victims well. He has seen Armando's disagreements with Marcela, he has witnessed first hand Armando's change towards Betty and silently observed Betty's interactions with Armando. He himself has thrown out his conclusions on Betty's actions by a simple snip bits of conversation that he's either been in the room to hear or heard from Armando himself.

Who better to make Betty fall in love than Armando? Because Betty has those feelings there and who better to do be the one to do this than Armando? Not only because those feelings are there but because Armando can stomach the job. The man who is confused about his feelings and behaving erratically and emotionally driven than Armando?

Because Armando proposes for Calderon to do it. At first Calderon is grossed out by the idea but Armando presents everything telling him he isn't the boss, that he has no morals and he was perfect for the job. Mario agrees with all of that, even asks for a bigger percentage of shareholding and Armando agrees. This gives us the understanding that Mario would be willing to seduce Betty.

I realize this contradicts my own personal opinion that Armando agreed to do this because it meant he was saving Betty from Nicolas but lets remember that Armando was afraid to face those feelings and he wasn't even aware that they were there. Here Armando and Mario weren't talking about love, as he thinks Betty is so in love with Nicolas that he is her eternal love and that Nicolas would take advantage of that and poison her against them, they are talking about seduction, meaning seggsual. Which I've said before Armando thinks lust is love and therefore that if he ain't wanting to jump they bones in that instant that it cain't be love therefore my mans thought he had no feelings for Betty(idk why bc we do get two scenes where he checks her out briefly (I am sure of this because it's the episode where Betty tripped and was limping and when Mario brought it up Armando asked if she didn't already walk like that, if he had been noticing her walk than he would have been aware of the limp but his eyesight went from the top of Betty's head all the way down. Do with that information what you'd like :)) and where he gets jealous when Charlie Zas kissed her cheek(someone once said that they were celos de jefe and excuse me ma'am jealousy is jealousy and a normal boss would not feel that. If my boss or manager ever did that I woulda done been fired in that instant))

Take a break if you need it.

Okay return back to this scene.

While Calderon does this mila second rundown of Betty, Armando and him share a stare. Either Armando wants the room to himself or is looking at him for a confidence boost. Then Mario nods and lets him know he'll leave them be.

Armando sticks to the script by not removing his trust from Betty. Instead he encourages her and congratulates her on doing things well.

In this scene while Betty has been entirely focused on the work at hand and being professional Mario was busy assessing the situation while Armando... is hard to read here. He is keeping himself composed rather than being emotionally driven or erratic or neurotic. In truth he is showing one of his best traits so far, composure. When he is sure of what he wants to happen Armando is really good at keep composure, feelings at bay, and controlling the situation. Something he later loses as he begins to get more lost and confused in his own feelings and understanding them.

Betty here is endearing, honestly I find Betty endearing at all times lol. She's super cute and such a good sport since her character is written to capture your heart, not by sympathy but by empathy. Again just like Armando how are we not supposed to be affected by such a sweet character? Constantly putting her feelings aside for Armando's, who hasn't done that? We empathize with her because at some point or another we've been her and ironically it's the exact same reason why we sympathize and empathize with Armando because at some point or another we've all been there where we let the worse get the best of us and we've learned to live with it and deal with it same as he.

As Betty starts to leave the office Armando calls her name, stands up in a slow but steady way showing us that he is the one in control in this situation. His tone is controlled but not enough where you don't hear that resent.

"Betty you didn't hadn't told me you've got a boyfriend"

Betty looks taken aback by this behavior of his. As she stares at him a bit shocked and rocks on her feet, seeming uncomfortable with this but also worried.

Armando proceeds to say "and that that boyfriend is Nicolas Mora, your friend from university. The one you've got in Terra Moda" Notice how now there is a waiver in his voice and he no longer is being as composed or in control of his emotions. As he for split seconds allows those emotions of jealousy and possessiveness to sweep through his tone of voice.

In this scene Armando isn't so much giving us body language as he is stiff, showing nervousness and discomfort himself, often we see this whenever Marcela is interrogating him but he is giving us tonality in voice.

Again the sequence as he names the list of what and who Nicolas is shows priority. First, Nicolas is Betty's boyfriend, that guy she's talked about who she went to university with, and she's got him working in Terra Moda. His priority: Betty has a boyfriend. He knows who said boyfriend is and he knows what he does.

Betty tells him that she doesn't have a boyfriend: "Ay ay no Doctor, eso no es cierto." Betty normally has a waiver her voice whenever she's nervous or scared so it's not unlike her to have it here, she smiles and chuckles nervously. In translation what she says is lost so by interpretation this is what she said "Hmm? No sir... um that's not true."

Armando's tone is now accusing her. He seems angered by Betty's "denial" as he tells her "It's not true? I heard it-" we then get a frame of Betty's reaction. She is truly concerned over this as we later find out at the end of the day that she was worried that it could cause Don Armando to build distrust towards her. Again we are shown that Betty is keeping it all professional whilst Armando isn't.

"I heard when Bertha told you, right in front of me. [Y'all] started gossiping, didn't notice I was there. You both forgot about me, no Betty?"* He is shaking as if agitated and he sports a cocky smile because he feels like he caught her in her own lie.

[*]This could be taken in a double sense. In his eyes Betty was so excited about hearing that her "eternal love" called her that she forgot he was in the room and in a figurative way, Betty forgot him.

Betty's understanding of his behavior is rational. He's upset that she withheld vital information from him after she told him she had nothing else to hide(when he interrogated her the previous night) and this is related to a professional work related situation.

Armando now sports similar traits to that of Marcela when she is looking for reasons to act out on her anger. Armando is agitated as stated before and while Betty goes to explain herself Armando grabs his glass of whisky, not taking his eyes off Betty and drinks(cantinero, otro whisky!(Now his behavior here is very interesting because as he grabs the glass to drink from it he takes in a deep breath. At first I interpreted this for anger but after seeing it a few times I realize it's panic. While at first he was composed and sure of what he was feeling which was anger, now he is faced with uncertainty from feelings he doesn't recognize and he doesn't know where this conversation is going to head or how he'll react or feel so he enters panic mode)). She tells him that it was something the cuartel came up with because she once mentioned Nicolas and since then they haven't gotten it out of their heads that he is her boyfriend "I don't have anything with him."

Then relief starts to wash over him as Betty's final words are reassuring him that she doesn't have a boyfriend. In this frame Armando no longer has a drink in hand and he doesn't seem as tense as before.

"Definite? We're sure of that?"

Betty chuckles and nods and his tone of voice returns to being soft spoken and calm, even hopeful as he tells her "Okay, okay it was only curiosity." (What kind of curiosity tho?;))

Betty leaves his office and has a slight smile and was on the brink of a daydream when Sofia interupts her from doing that.

I have this dumb theory where Aura Maria and Freddy are in some way a parallel of Betty and Armando except that Aura Maria takes on the role of Armando while Freddy takes on the role of Betty and if y'all want I'll write a post explaining this.

Take a break if you need it.

Skip a scene we've got Armando interacting with Freddy. Usually everyone pays the burnt of Armando's anger and in this scene he looks anything but angry. He actually humors Freddy which allows us to know that after that conversation with Betty, he has one less problem(you know the one that topped all the others). He then laughs at Freddy(I find it ironic that Freddy told him that what Jenny and him have is strictly professional at which Armando laughs and repeats the same thing. The reason I find it ironic is because we as an audience know that what J & F have is not strictly professional and the conversation Armando just had with Betty wasn't strictly profession. In other words, Fernando Gaitan has a good sense of humor) and tells him to show him his lil dancy dance and leaves to go to Mario's Office.

When he enters his office he informs him he spoke to Betty about that infamous boyfriend.

"What did she say?" Mario asks.

"Well no, that she doesn't have a boyfriend." his smiles and says happily. He the catches him up on the gossip.

While Armando is now showing an array of emotion and excitement Mario is poker face, fidgeting with his pen and studying Armando.

He tells him "You know what this means? That I'm a happy man!" he chuckles and looks around the room as if really taking in the news and letting the relief settle in. "What a relief, finally some good news today, ah" he says the final part as if he were an italian chef. This lets us know that Armando is truthfully relieved to find out that Betty, his Betty is single and that he is still her special man.

In the previous post I talked about how Armando went about listening his excuses to start drinking early that day and how he basically went going from his smallest problem to the biggest one as he says that the one that topped all of his other problems was Betty having a boyfriend.

See, all his other problems were a cause of stress and anger, emotions he is very familiar with so they don't disconcert him however, jealousy or fear of losing Betty, are new territory for him that alone freaked him out but the fact Betty had a boyfriend was enough to just push the boy just close enough to the edge he needed a drink so early in the morning because it was anguish.

Mario tells him he has never seen him so relieved and happy to find out a woman doesn't have a boyfriend to which we pan out to see Armando roll his eyes and slouch against the chair, annoyed at Mario's insinuation once again.

Mario reminds him of the last time he saw that same expression on him which was when he found out some woman was separated from her husband. Armando then tells him not to diminish the good news because it meant Betty hadn't ommited any information from him.

To really bring this post to the full potential of it being analytical let us break this down.

Why was it important for him that Betty not omit information from him? Especially relating to something so personal and intimate of Betty's life outside of the office? (Again the argument that this is only about Eco Moda and Terra Moda are disproven in the previous post).

[EDIT: Sometimes as I write I've got two ideas at the same time and forget to finish writing them. It wasn't only important for the reasons mentioned below but because he does in fact want to know more about Betty as he later tells Bertha the same thing].

Armando went through the five stages of grief.

Anger, denial, anger, denial, more denial, and then moving on.

He did not accept that Betty had a boyfriend therefore when she told him she didn't he fully believed her, didn't ask more questions.

For Armando Betty's character means a lot. I don't mean the individual personification of Betty as a fictional character in this novela I mean as in her inner self and what she represent. To him Betty represent stability, comfort, unconditionality, honesty, and most of all fidelity and loyalty and the last three qualities are what he is always naming. If she withheld something from him it would mean that Betty was no longer that. She no longer would be an object of reassurance and comfort but like everyone else she'd become an unpredictable and untrustworthy individual in his life. Some one more that he needed to keep at arm's length or pretend around.

Armando has gotten a taste of being around someone who doesn't judge him when he is himself and doesn't hold it over him when he makes mistakes based on his neurotic nature or anger issues. Instead he has been around someone who understand he's like that, someone who is patient and knows how to call him out on it and how to handle his erratic behavior so he has learned to let his guard down little by little and found a niche of comfort in his assistant but if she lied to him it would take all of that away. It would be betrayal in his eyes.

That's why it was so important to him that Betty didn't keep secret from him. Especially seeing as they were forming a friendship that was based on honesty and respect towards each other. This explains why that was important to him. It's important for him to have trust in her.

However we ain't kidding anyone because his reaction was possessive over Betty because Betty has given all of these things to Armando, who has never really received them without some fine print, and he doesn't want to share her with anyone else. This is possessiveness and it is not love or romantic. It is a toxic trait because not one person belongs to someone and Armando feels that Betty belongs to him. Be it romantically, platonically, or work related, a person is a human being and they do not belong as an object or property to anyone.

Armando is a very emotionally immature individual and this shows us that.

Mario then proceeds to be his classical self, which is to sow the seed of paranoia in his best friend as he starts to point out that her friends wouldn't be saying that if Betty hadn't given them a reason. His hands clasped in front of him show a position of power. Right now he is holding the cards and he is well aware of that.

Right as he see the reaction he wanted from Armando he leaves him to ferment so to speak in the paranoia he has left in him. Armando becomes nervous all over again and susceptible to it.

He is left with himself and he says "Y quien es el.." now if you're hispanic or latino you'll find the humor in how that scene ends as he starts to sing in a sorrowful tone a very romantic and a song that I'd say most listen to when dealing with a break up "y en que lugar se enamoro de ti?"

Which translate to "And what is he like? and in what place did he fall in love with you?"

I won't read too much into that as I'm sure it was written in for humor or added in for the humor effect as we've had some pretty heavy emotionally driven scenes in this episode but I do think it's an ironic placement of humor.

Now to bring the final scene that I will be discussing regarding Armando finding out about Betty's boyfriend we come full circle with Armando asking Bertha about it.

He acts charismatic, composed and professional to get Bertha to talk to him.

"The subject is the following: I've got a long time working with Betty and It's just until now that I find out she's got boyfriend. Do you know who he is?"

"Well like really know? No, because she's so reserved"

He then with a pierced mouth nods. Again those feelings are creeping back up. I get it. He's feeling paranoia, distrust, betrayed, hurt, offended, scared, jealous, possessive and angry but this proves what I mentioned about Armando having his guard up at all times because he doesn't show any of this to Bertha, at least not enough where she picks up but because we as an audience are given so much detail regarding his character, we can.

Quickly he asks her "And you don't know how long she's been dating him?" brings us full circle again. The same tone he had with Betty when he told her that he was in the same room as her when Bertha said that she had a boyfriend, minus the smirk and actual reaction of his, once again proves that Armando knows when to show his reaction and how to be in control and composed.

Bertha proceeds to tell him the "actual" story in which she tells him "dating dating? No, but he does have her eating from the palm of his hand because she's stupidly in love with him." and we hear Armando gasp and say "No." we then get a frame of his face which shows us... the opiset of happiness, joy, relief, tranquility, peace, serenity but with someone trying to be composed.

Bertha tells him that Mariana read her the cards and said that he was Betty's dream man and that he was going to change her life and she was going to change his life. I don't care for that but for the sake of this breakdown I'll mention it.

We know that Betty's dream man is Armando, not Nicolas. However everyone else thinks it's Nicolas. Armando's facial expression shows someone once again panicking.

He not only finds out that Betty has boyfriend, now it turns out she didn't just omit something from him but lied when he asked her and to top it off she so happens to be stupidly in love with him and on top of all of that he is Betty's dream man and to finish it off, he will change her life and she will change his life in the mildest of riches, meaning with Betty becoming the sole owner of Eco Moda and Terra Moda, making her rish rish $$$.

This is when it no longer is just about his mixed up feelings for Betty but now the entire livelihood of his family and everyone that works for Eco Moda.

Eco Moda is Armando's pride and joy. He does love that company which is why he started that scheme in the first place because he didn't want to lose it, let his father down, prove Daniel right, and throw away 30 plus year of his father's work and life time(Also as we're told because of his goals). The company means a great deal to him and in ways he's not aware of yet, so does Betty.

However someone is aware of this, not to the deep knowledge that Armando has regarding whatever he thinks he is feels towards Betty but they've got some sort of idea regarding this and they innact and come up with a plan to secure the company, the presidency, and his statues and reputation.

Step one: Tell Armando that he needs to make Betty fall in love with him to secure the company. Women in love will do anything for the one they love therefore if he beats Nicolas to the goal we secure the company. It worked with Paty(he's stupid so his logic doesn't work)

Step two: Convince Armando that he is the right candidate for the job. If that doesn't work, manipulate him with paranoia and make him fear Betty. If that doesn't work, tell him you were sure that Betty was in love with him before you found out about Nicolas.

Step three: Tell Armando I will be in charge of all the corny details because he will freak out and get way over his head and ruin the plan.

Step four: make fun of him.

Step five: Go on a trip and write a letter that explains the entire plan in detail and leave it on my desk without telling my secretary to not let anyone touch it or go near it except Armando so that she can go into my office, and I know how she likes to be nosy, and she can then think it's in the wrong office and give it to her assistant who takes care of all of his stuff, literally, and she finds it, reads it and does exactly what I was afraid of and made my best friend afraid of as well and that will then bring her downfall, his downfall, therefore the entire company's downfall.

Step six: never realize how stupid I am or take full accountability for it and apologize sincerely for all the wrong and harm I have caused.

Obviously I'm not saying Armando is innocent or that he didn't do anything wrong. He did. He allowed his best friend to manipulate him when he said he wouldn't listen to him again(the panama thing), he allowed his best friend to make fun of Betty and was a coward to admit his true feelings not only to himself but to his best friend. He was a willing(felt guilty for it but nonetheless willing) participant in the plan.

By now breaking down these past episodes and scenes allows us to understand where Armando was coming from so we can sympathize just a bit for him and his confusion and how he was so easily manipulated by Mario, however this doesn't mean he isn't guilty. At the start of it he too to some degree thought no one could love Betty, (yes we later find out that he did care for her as he tells Mario that he feels endearment for Betty and he looks relieved to find that out. I will be breaking down that scene when I get to it) because of her physicality (I already talked about this but when the time is right I will go into deep detail regarding this part of Armando's character).

It is eleven AM. I have been writing this post for the past seven hours and I am beat and tired. I hope this makes sense.

Once again, 'til next time.

HAHAHA OKAY I FORGOT TO ADD SOME COMMENTARY ON THE REST OF THIS SCENE.

[Edit:

Bertha proceeds to tease Armando about him liking gossip and being Nosey. He gets annoyed at her but in order to get the information he wants he stays composed and tells her that he just wants to know about Betty.

"It's not that[I like gossip], it's just that this is about someone who is really close to me everyday-who I work really close with- and truth be told I am a little curious about Betty's life. You know, one just imagine her a little ugly and with boyfriend...? You know? Why don't you tell me the whole thing?"

At first he is a being defensive while trying to justify the fact he is being nosey. His tone then changes to endearing as he tells her "truth be told I am a little curious about Betty's life." and his face goes along with the tone as he says "you know, one just imagines her a little ugly-" he catches himself and say "and with boyfriend...?"

Overall what we have learned here is that Armando is really good at dismissing his feelings on the spot, suppressing them, and running away from them(I too do that and it's a pain in the butt). He does this as a sport.

Bertha then tells him "The thing is that Betty doesn't like it much for you to know about her private life." and this again offends Armando as he straightens his face and stares at Bertha in shock and as Bertha says "How is it, Sir..." and he quickly sits down to listen to her. "that this morning when we left your office she pulled me aside and told me that she didn't want you to know about her intimate life?" he rubs his chin, eyes still on Bertha and whispers "Really?"

Armando knows that Bertha can't tell half a gossip so instead of asking her to keeping telling him, practically begging her to tell him the whole scoop he manipulates her by saying "If this is going to cause problems then don't tell me. Let's leave it as is, Bertha, thank you." his tone is somber to tug at her strings, how could she possibly leave this man curious over this juicy gossip? and how could she not tell the whole story? Especially because it's her boss?

Bertha chuckles and tells him that she, of course is going to tell him, that she is dying to tell him. Armando then tells her "Well then if this is between us two it doesn't leave the planet, go on, tell me how did it go?"

Armando starts to bit his nail as he listen to Bertha start from the beginning.

She tells him word for word what Mariana said about Betty's dream man. She's obviously describing Armando, but to everyone else that's Nicolas, so the impression or idea that Armando now has of Nicolas is that he isn't some loser or nerd or some nobody but he is an important man who is the type of man woman lust over. They will have an intense relationship that will be strong and that the man is fundamental for her life.

This describes a man that is both important and that will be for sure in Betty's life.

Now Bertha goes on to describe the man Betty told them about. He is desired by woman,tall, handsome, strong, isn't rich but has money, has a big car, and his name is Nicolas Mora. However Betty clearifies that she has nothing going on with him, that she just likes him and she feels a strong attraction to him but that nothing has happened between them.

Then Mariana tells her that something will happen because it will change both of their lives.

Take into account that though Betty's life in a personal aspect hasn't changed much in the professional aspect it has. She's got a respectable job, a boss who values her work ethic and her enough to hand over his company which means she's could be rich. She's abandon some of her morals to collaborate with her scheming boss and is doing things that aren't morally correct.

Armando's life has changed not only professionally but personally. For one he's begun to let his guard down and given more of himself to a woman he isn't in a relationship or knowingly attracted to, his relationship with Marcela is only getting worse and Betty is usually the center of their biggest fights, he has now built a friendship with said woman built on trust and respect, something he has never done with any other woman and of course professionally he has sunken his and his family's company into debt.

I'd say Armando's life is changing a lot and that's not even the peak of it. Betty's life is also changing a lot and they haven't even started dating.

Armando is aware of how Betty's life is changing on a work related level so he obviously believes everything Bertha is telling him because he knows things she doesn't know.

Impatiently and annoyed Armando tells Bertha to explain what she means by "it's going to change their lives." which again since he "knows" things Bertha doesn't, therefore Tweedledum has sowed the seed of paranoia and Tweedledee has given it the perfect terrain for it to flourish so Armando is now listening to Mario's voice that Betty could turn against them though the important thing to note here is that Armando isn't mistrusting of Betty instead he is really mistrusting of Nicolas, because again, who could really fall in love with "ugly" betty. Except that's a joke on it's own because the idiot was already having feelings for her.

They are interrupted by Guti Guti and this is where I will end this post.

Truthfully until next time. ]

#analysis of ysblf #armando mendoza #armando ysblf #don armando #mario calderon #betty pinzón solano #betty ysblf #betty la fea #ysblf #yo soy betty la fea

[jjaeong]

The Heiress, & The Twelve. Act I.

Episode I: For I Am, Who I Think I Am Not.

Series: KPOP Girl Group: 이달의 소녀 (LOONA).

Pairing: OT12 & Mafia Heiress Female Reader.

Summary: Twelve girls are bound by a string of fate, with the priority of keeping a completely clueless girl alive who was unaware of the responsibility that would soon fall upon her shoulders. In which Y/L/N Y/N was the Heiress to a first ranking Mafia Family, and had to live in complete secrecy until the day of her return.

Heels clicked against the marbled tiles, a short haired woman adorned a simple white blouse with a plain black tie and a shining green gemstone pin, fitted dress pants, and a matching pair of boots made her way through the silence of the halls. Soon reaching the large mahogany doors that almost reached the ceiling, the woman didn't hesitate to push the doors open and pause in the middle of the spacious room. She bowed before announcing her arrival to the gray haired man that stood by the tall windows, back facing her as his eyes scanned the garden beyond the glass of his quarters.

"I've arrived, boss." the man inhaled deeply, raising a hand to signal the woman to be at ease and so she straightened back to her height, side-eyeing the machinery that surrounded the king sized bed, and dressers that were once filled with family portraits—now occupied by numerous paraphernalia for various medication. The sharp-eyed woman clenched her jaw, studying the man who kept his back turned to her yet she could almost hear his contemplation out loud.

It's gotten worse.

"Do you need me to call for the doctor, sir? I can ask Vivi to take charge until I've finished the task."

"No, I specifically called you for a reason, Haseul." the man turned his head slightly, just enough to make sure that he could see the young woman through his peripheral vision who was patiently awaiting for orders. His heart clenched as only for a moment, the sight of her reminded him of a younger version of herself, one that he had once found in the streets doing errands for another Family to make sure that she comes home with enough coins to feed a child that could barely even formulate a word—stating that she had found the child the abandoned, wandering the streets alone—to which the young girl then decided to claim as her own sister.

The old man then asked if they wanted to work for him instead, and with Haseul's dim eyes shining brightly at the offer—a wary expression quickly cast on her small, rugged features, stating that they'll be chased by those whom gave her orders. Soon enough, the old man took care of it himself, and the two scrawny children that sat in the dining hall with the boss were shoving their meals down their throats as if their lives depended on it—but the old man didn't mind, lips pulled up into a small smile as he sipped on his wine.

"How is your sister? She's doing well, I hope." Haseul's eyes stayed glued on the back of the boss' head, feeling slightly distressed at how it seemed as if the usual dismissive and busy man had time to even ask for such easily answered questions.

"She is, sir. She's attending classes at this very moment."

"I've been reminiscing the times where she'd barge in the meeting room with the loudest greeting.." the man chuckled to himself, sighing without noticing the pained expression that had now set on Haseul's face as she swallowed thickly.

"She's living well with the other five, but I'll make sure to ask her to drop by sometime.."

"And.. Yves?" Haseul's eyes snapped back to the boss, watching as he finally turned to face her with a distant look in his eyes.

"Sir—"

"I need to know if she's taking care of her." as he moved to take a seat, the old man slightly staggered—making Haseul reflexively take a step towards him but he quickly placed a hand on his desk, regaining his balance with a frustrated look on his face.

"Is she being taken care of?" Haseul could only nod in reply when he looked back at her, she could see the internal struggle that had been building up in his aged features as he slowly lowered himself on his chair. Inhaling deeply as he finally sat in peace, leaned back, staring across the room blankly.

"It won't be long until she comes home," the old man's eyes set on a picture frame that stood tall on his desk where the image of the familiar face of his eldest son, his wife and a baby girl smiling happily back at him, "will I ever be able to meet her? My own granddaughter.."

"Is that why you called for me?" Haseul dared to ask just when the boss started to look solemn, but though the boss was as strict as any boss can be—he was never unkind to those of which he raised as his own.

He did however, looked at Haseul displeasingly as if he's wasn't dying and this was just another day where the old man slightly questions if the girl really did grow up under his supervision.

"No, I have an order only I can give you—and I alone." and so the old man started speaking, pulling out a document from a drawer under his desk and laying it out on the surface for Haseul to read. As she read what had been written on the parchment, she felt her heart drop as she stared down at the contents—her own body practically refusing to listen her boss speak any further, vision blurring while the old man continued to tell her exactly what would be her final order from him. Haseul was numb the second she had left her boss' quarters, stiffly making her way down the hall with nothing but agony and dread washing over her as everything slowly sank in. If it wasn't for Vivi's arms that had quickly caught her once she'd rounded the corner, the short-haired woman would've broke down alone on the empty hall—but there they sat on the ground, Haseul's heartbreaking sobs echoing through the silence, Vivi's hushed whispers and protective arms wrapped around the girl, Haseul could almost feel the emptiness that was once her reality and had been completed because of the boss' compassion return.

"How long do we have until we come for her?" her eyes continued to stare down blankly at the name engraved on the tombstone, tearing her eyes away from the marble to look at the taller, dark haired woman with distinct sharp features—particularly, the slope of her jawline—that stood behind her. With her arms crossed and craned neck as she eyed Haseul with a focused gaze, the leader could only glance at the tombstone before taking a deep breath and tiredly walking past her to start leading them towards the cars.

"A year."

"A year!? What—she'll be our boss when she's barely through her junior year? What's the difference with just going right now!?" Haseul pinched the bridge of her nose as the other woman leaned over to express her dismay, making her stop on her tracks to look at the taller girl pleadingly.

"It's in the paper, Jinsol. You've all read it, please don't make me repeat the order that I've been assigned to do—if you want to press on this further, take it up with Kahei, please." Jinsol eyed the drained girl infront of her, shaking her head before reaching over to place a comforting hand on her shoulder in attempt to console the older girl.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sound harsh it's just.. We're defenseless, it doesn't sit right—not having a real boss," Haseul nodded solemnly, failing to meet Jinsol's worried gaze, "it's not fair that he left you with it, even if everyone would catch a bullet for you if you commanded it. Haseul, it's.. Just not right." Jinsol tried her best to empathize with the girl, though lacking the ability of wording it out. However, Haseul felt the sincerity in her tone and just gave her a small smile in reply—already mentally preparing herself for a year of temporary boss until they're finally ready to get you.

"Everything will go as smoothly as it always has, Jinsol. We'll have our boss back before we know it."

"Yo!" you squinted your eyes at the sudden figure blocking you from the view of the sun, the familiar wide smile and crinkled eyes directed at you as she beamed—dare you'd say that though she was blocking the sun from behind her, it was as if she shined even brighter than the source itself.

"Yo.." she let out a hitch-pitched excited squeal before occupying the space next to you on the bleachers, popping open her water bottle as her eyes aimlessly scanned the open field, lingering on the blonde that ran at ease—leading everyone else behind her.

"What 'cha doing?" the girl next to you asked with a melody, leaning over to invade your personal space even further—her nose practically pressing up against your left cheek while you watched the students at the field. Maybe if you were still a freshmen and the older girl smothered you with affection like this as she usually did, you would've been all flustered and stumbling with your words. But it's been years since the school's precious Student Council Vice President—the "Sunshine Goddess" as they've repeatedly called her since she transferred—and "Just-who-even-is-that-girl?" Y/N's dating rumors had died down, the infatuation had subsided and now you were left with the most lovable and affectionate puppy that never missed a day on telling you that she loved you.

Oh what people would give to have Student Council Vice President Kim Jiwoo's love and affection.

"Skipping class." you answered monotonously, hearing a loud gasp coming from Jiwoo who quickly clasped her water bottle shut, rising from her spot to look down at you—completely horrified at your reply. She grabbed you by your hand that was subconsciously picking on the hem of your uniform's coat, making you look back up at her as the girl pouted at you.

"Yah! Ha Y/N, Take your classes more seriously! Do you have any idea what you could be missing in your class right now? What would you do if someone told you to solve calculus or you'll die!?"

"I'll ask if I can call a friend, and I'll see if my Jiwoo-unnie can solve it for me. If she can't—then I guess I'll just die. So much for having an Unnie that's a year level above mine.."

"Y/N!" Jiwoo really did look bothered by your joke, but she looked adorable even in her worried state which made you pull your hands up in surrender.

"I'm not skipping class, we have a substitute teacher for today and he asked us to finish the homework that was given yesterday—I already finished it so I asked if I could leave early and now I'm here."

"Hey! You two! What do you think you're doing up there!?" both your eyes snapped over to a flustered, slightly ragged breathing Kim Jungeun standing by the bottom of the steps, a hands on her hips with her sharp eyes squinted to look at you and Jiwoo through the sunlight. Jiwoo tugged on your hand that she'd been holding onto, shaking it as if to mimic a wave towards the Student Council President who only looked even more irritated than when she squinted her eyes at you two.

"Jungie! Y/N left class early to watch us do PE!"

"And you actually believe her!?" Jungeun shouted from her spot, her volume loud enough for a few of their classmates who were doing laps to glance at the three of you nosily. One student who glanced at you briefly made eye contact with Jiwoo, and you swear the girl was smiling the last time you saw her—but the paling of the students face made you think otherwise. Though when you looked back at Jiwoo, she was smiling warmly at you.

"I said I was sorry, Jungeun-unnie! Will you ever let that go?" you asked the older girl by the bottom of the steps, but she only raised a brow at you before shooting you a disapproving look and letting out a 'tsk', pointing at Jiwoo.

"Enabler! Back in the field, now!"

"But the teacher's not even back yet!"

"If she says twenty laps, then it's twenty! You've only done ten! Maybe if you even tried to stop yourself from being too excited talk to Y/N—you would've already doubled that!" Jungeun pointed at the field behind her, making Jiwoo groan and start mumbling under her breath as she glanced at you before making her way down the bleachers. The blonde president raised her chin as Jiwoo lowered her eyes right back at her, handing her the water bottle before reaching the field and breaking into a full sprint. You watched in awe how she had already reached a few remaining students across the field whom were all tired out of their minds, Jiwoo zoomed past them—eyes practically overflowing with irate.

"You should head home early, I heard it's going to rain heavily today." Jungeun said as she settled on Jiwoo's previous spot next to you, the girl scanning the side of your face—your eyes following Jiwoo around the field. You turned to look at Jungeun just as she popped the bottle open, taking a few mouthfuls of water before screwing it shut to place on the space between the two of you.

"I'm pretty sure that wherever you got that forecast from—is inaccurate," Jungeun reached behind her to pull the band off her ponytail, letting her blonde locks fall loosely on her shoulders as she looked at you with intrigue, "The skies answer to one person, and one person only. And that person's name is Ha Sooyoung."

"Ha Sooyoung? Sooyoung-unnie? Your older sister?" you almost felt offended when Jungeun cackled at the mention of your older sister, until you remembered that the year your sister was just about to graduate—she apparently got close enough with Jungeun and Jiwoo through her final stretch as Student Council President at the time, enough for her to ask the two girls to watch over you as she always had until you could only see each other at home with the older girl being in college.

"She never fails at that, always giving me an umbrella when it actually rains. Ever since we were kids! But today, she didn't give me an umbrella so.. Your forecast is wrong, Unnie."

"That Unnie.. Teaching you all the wrong things in life.." you snorted at the the teasing tone before looking up at the clear blue sky, to which Jungeun did the same.

"But maybe I should, actually. Sooyoung-unnie took a day off from her internship for some reason, maybe we could grab a bite to eat or spend some time together." Jungeun leaned over to bump her shoulder against yours, grinning at you when you gave her a look.

"You're going to be like this with us when we graduate too, aren't you Y/N? You're going to miss our affection~"

"What is this? Unnie! Please not you too!"

"Hey! How dare you two be cute without me!? I'm not taking no for an answer when I come over there and kiss you both!" Jiwoo, who had finally finished running her laps hurriedly ran up the bleachers at the sight of Jungeun's arms wrapped around you as she attempted to land a kiss your cheek. The three of you ended up tangled on the ground, laughing loudly just as the school bell in the background, signalling the dismissal of all classes. Jiwoo and Jungeun headed to the showers as you waited patiently by the entrance of the field, you fiddled with the strap of your backpack that hung on one of your shoulders, eyes stuck on the view of students rustling through the parking lot, watching a few cars start pulling out of the driveway and conversations pass by.

There was one group however, four girls—one of them with striking mint colored hair whom you swore was from the same year level as you, but in another class—stood in the middle of the busy lot, the shortest of the four whom you'd assume was a freshmen, oddly hanging out with a junior and two sophomores, seemed to be in a serious conversation with them. The dark haired girl with the fiercest eyes you've probably laid eyes on in your entire life furrowed her brows at the girl as the mint-haired girl looked just about ready to walk out of the conversation—but the one girl with wavy brown hair seemed to be trying to ease the tension by slowly repeating the same words that the shorter girl had, a wary smile set on her lips as her eyes moved from one girl to another.

And then her eyes landed on you.

You quickly tore your eyes away from the four, acting as if you haven't been watching them the entire time their conversation was slowly getting heated. Just as you were about ready to turn and just wait in front of the shower room, you felt a quick tug on your arm—finding the familiar blinding smile of Jiwoo directed at you as she wrapped her arms around one of your own. But when her eyes seemed to have followed where Jungeun seemed to have went, her smile slowly fell into a thin line which made you look over to Jungeun too, staring at her back as she conversed with the four girls from earlier that you had been caught looking at.

"It's finally time, huh?" Jiwoo mumbled to herself, not noticing that though she practically whispered it—you heard her loud and clear. Whatever it was that Jiwoo was talking about, your inner voice clashed against the feeling in your gut that does not want to know what the older girl meant. Your eyes scanned the four girls that crowded around Jungeun—who's composure looked as collected as ever—when your eyes caught the mint-haired girl's oddly concerned ones and the fury that seemed to radiate from the short-haired girl..

What was going on?

"Who are they?" you asked, the question coming out as a whisper which didn't easily slide by Jiwoo, who's grip slightly loosen around your arm—yet you felt the older girl rest a cheek on your shoulder, squishing them lightly as she eyed the five.

"Good kids, you'll know soon." the way Jiwoo suddenly switched moods made you turn to look at her, the girl just looked up at you from her position just when Jungeun made her way back to you. You and Jiwoo barely even got a reaction from the blonde when she started to head over to her red Tesla on the reserved parking space which was a perk when you were a Student Council President—Jiwoo's parking space as the Student Council Vice President next to hers remained just as empty as the first year she'd been appointed in the position.

Jungeun basically drove for the both of them anyways, and when you suggested to Jiwoo to just rent her spot to profit off of it she refused—stating that she already had someone in mind that could occupy the space. You thought she meant that person to be you, but when you teaser her about it—she had quickly declared that you were never getting a driver's license.

"You'll always have us to drive you around."

It was cute how she said 'us' as if she had a license herself, so you let it slide.

"What did those kids want with you?" Jungeun brought the car to life, glancing at you from the rearview mirror just as you locked your seatbelt on. She quickly followed suit, looking over to Jiwoo who seemed to still struggle with hers no matter how many times a day she had to put it on—but Jungeun wordlessly leaned over to do it herself like always, and gone were Jiwoo's knitted brows of concentration to be replaced by a big beaming smile, ready to embark on a journey of a lifetime.

"We're crashing at yours tonight." you raised a brow at Jungeun's dismissive tone, opening your mouth to ask her what she even meant but Jiwoo turned the music on to squeal loudly when “Colors” by some girl group named “Girl of the Month” boomed through the speakers. The whole ride to your house was just spent with Jiwoo belting out whatever played on the radio, and the combined silence between you and Jungeun—but hers was different, you knew that deep, contemplative look on Jungeun's face only appears every once in a while when you were all hanging out. Usually, the girl wouldn't dare mix her school life with the fun energy she had always seemed to be in whenever it was you three but..

This one felt different.

Even the way Jiwoo suddenly stopped singing when she realized how close you were to the view of your home—hell, even Jiwoo started to fidget on her seat.

"Do you think she remembers me?" Jiwoo looked down at her peach colored backpack in between her matching peach colored chucks, wiggling her feet in a jittery manner until she felt a hand rest on her knee. Jungeun shot her a knowing look, making sure Jiwoo saw her before she faced the road again, nodding firmly.

"I'm sure she does, but that's the last thing on everyone's minds right now."

"Right, yeah—of course! How weird of me." Jiwoo breathed out an awkward laugh before clearing her throat, glancing at your odd look directed towards her before she looked back intently at Jungeun. Jungeun side-eyed the girl, quickly getting flustered by how serious Jiwoo looked.

"I swear to whoever is up there that created this world, if she doesn't get down on one knee with a ring in her hand the moment we step foot in that house when you lock eyes—she's on my hit list."

"Kim Jiwoo! What are you even—"

"She's pretty, you're pretty. She's totally in love with you, you are in love with her even if you act like you're not but it's just because you're a Tsundere and we all love you for that—but I swear, Kim Jungeun I will combust—"

"Who's cars are parked outside my house?" your eyes almost popped out of their sockets at the sight of three expensive looking cars that was parked perfectly aligned just outside your garage. The second Jungeun pulls the car to a halt, you scrambled on your seat to unclasp your seat belt before grabbing your bag and pushing the door open. You could hear Jungeun calling for you in the background as you rushed to get inside your house—but not before eyeing the blue, yellow, and green cars that continued to intimidate you—you needed make sure that Sooyoung was okay. You pushed the front door open, racing over to the staircase and completely managing to miss a tall, dark haired woman by the entrance of the living room who lightly tapped on the fish tank—giggling to herself until she heard your heavy footsteps after the front door were rashly pushed open.

You were just about to walk past your room and barge into Sooyoung's when you collided against a figure that emerged from the open door of your own room, making you fall back on the ground with a thud as you stared at what seemed to be a pair of jean-clad knees. A large, yet soft looking hand was quickly outstretched in front of you, the impact had apparently managed to rattle you into silence helped you in taking the strangers hand with no hesitation for them to pull you up from the ground—eyes finally locking into yours.

"Y/N." was the only word she muttered, blinking at you as if she was nothing but a mere husk of the human she was supposed to be. The girl looked just about your age but you couldn't deny that she was way beyond just a simple girl, though the she looked almost robotic—it didn't stop her from scanning your face before eyeing you from head to toe in your shocked state, her mouth formed into an 'o' shape.

Her eyes were very pretty.

"You're very much prettier than the images Jiwoo-unnie sends us." and with that, the girl with the cat-like eyes' gaze softened as her lips pulled into a full smile. You didn't exactly know how to react at her statement, or even at the softest smile you've ever seen in your life—what is this girl even doing here?

And she just mentioned Jiwoo-unnie—what does she have to do with this?

"Kim Hyunjin! Jiwoo-unnie said the boss is—" a lower toned voice called from behind you, only to stop dead on her tracks with her eyes widened in shock.

"Here." the girl named Kim Hyunjin finished, peeking from behind you to grin at the light haired girl. You were almost certain that you had lost all your sense of comprehension, it was as if suddenly these strangers that stood in your halls that drove the expensive looking cars parked outside—looking exactly like those models in magazine covers that a child would want to grow up as, while those of the same age could only feel their innermost insecurities come crashing down on them at the sight—had completely shattered the peace that had once been in your home.

But if these were even Sooyoung's friends—would you even be shocked at the thought of a pretty girl being friends with other pretty girls?

"B-boss." the girl whom you've finally came to the conclusion that had distinctive European features bowed in greeting, you merely blinked at the sudden title that the girl had given you as an airy laugh was released behind you. Hyunjin's laugh then died down, with the girl that stayed in her position in front of you peeking as if awaiting for a signal of some sort.

"I.. No?"

"..No?" she asked in confusion at your attempt in trying to grasp the situation, her light brown hair swayed as she tilted her head at your words—to which you could only flush at before Hyunjin moved past you, grabbing her friend's shoulders with a teasing smile on her lips as she pulled her back to her height.

"She doesn't know yet," Hyunjin told the girl, an embarrassed look settling on her soft features to which she quickly waved her hands around as if to dismiss whatever that encounter was. Hyunjin giggled to then pat the girl's head, looking back at you with a knowing look on her face, "this is Jeon Heejin, my friend—my soul friend! She looks like a puppy doesn't she? I had the same thought the first time i met her—"

"Stop that!" the duo easily slipped into lighthearted bickering, to which you just stood there, watching as bewildered as ever with Hyunjin shaking her head and Heejin's small fists clenched—attempting to look even the slightest bit intimidating—only to look like an adorable child throwing a tantrum. The two quickly wrapped it up when you heard Sooyoung call you from downstairs, which then reminded you of why you rushed into the house in the first place so you slid past the two—making your way back down on the first floor with the duo following behind you, their bickering continues but now hushed as you almost had a heart attack when rounding the corner to find a tall, dark haired woman whom you'd assume was just about as old as Sooyoung, standing by the entrance of the living room.

"Did you find what you were looking for?" the woman merely spared you a glance, looking over to the two whom both nodded in confirmation. The woman looked back at you, almost in pity before she turned to enter the living room herself, not even saying a word to you.

But really, why are these girls in your house resembling every single campus crushes that every student had once seemed to fall for during their academic years?

"Unnie.. What the hell is going on?" you asked just as Sooyoung finally came into view, standing at the other end of the livingroom by one of the tall windows that she always made a point to keep the blinds drawn—but this time, she had them all shut, peeking through them as if to check the surroundings before locking eyes with you, sharp gaze quickly turning soft and her lips easing into what resembled a frown.

"Y/N—"

"Ha Y/N, please, have a seat." a woman your eyes barely passed by once you entered the room had called for your attention, she sat by one of the singular couches that had were supposed to face the television but instead, were all positioned as if in some kind of meeting room. It looked almost exactly like the position was in one of those films where there was a person of strength sitting on one end of the room, a few unoccupied chairs aligned by both sides to reach a specific chair that was meant to be for the person being questioned.

Your eyes watched Sooyoung take the seat between the sharp-eyed woman whom had a pondering look casted on her features as she started at you and the dark haired girl with the sharp jawline who now looked blank, making you break eye contact with the woman at the end of the room to acknowledge the orange-haired other woman that sat by her other side, looking almost serene as she sipped on her tea.

"Where are Kim Lip and Chuu?"

"Waiting for Gowon's team to arrive." the dark haired girl answered the now humming short-haired girl's question, watching as Hyunjin took the seat by your right, followed by Heejin sitting next to the dark haired girl on your left—eyeing everyone in the room before flashing you a small smile.

"Y/N?" the woman called for you attention yet again, an almost hesitant smile on her lips as she motioned for you to the seat in front of you, a few feet away from entirely facing her.

"Please." you swallowed sharply before settling down on the spot she hand kept insisting for you to occupy. Just before she could begin, approaching footsteps made you look up from the faces that were already present in the room, to feel the blood drain from your head down to your toes at the familiar sight of Kim Jungeun—now seated between Hyunjin and the orange-haired woman, adorning a luxurious looking velvet black suit with a blinding red pin contrasting her black tie. The pin had been intricately designed with nothing but red gemstones and a crescent-like symbol in on it's top with a golden silhouette of what resembled an owl in the middle of it.

"..Jungeun?" your friend turned to look up at you, a hint of apology in her eyes before she looked across from her to find the once blank looking member of the group—the woman with the sharp jawline—staring softly at Jungeun before she turned to look back at what you finally decided to point as..

Their Leader.

"Let's begin."

Hello~

I've decided to start my initial plan for this account on this fic. This was a series that had come to mind when I watched a rerun of Hitman Reborn and thought that yeah, mafia au's are pretty chill but the most I've read for the ones with this group was.. Are there even any? If so, I'd love to read them.

But initially, this had always been a reader included idea—almost shifted into a 2jin one (would probably write about as well when I can) but that would be a different universe compared to this one. And that plot would be fixed along with a handful of different groups but as I've said—I hope I can write it when I can.

This is only act one, probably.. made up of three acts? Twelve episodes each? When I finish the series, I'd probably make one shots of this universe—so many plans with such a short amount of time~

The plot would progress as it goes, minor ideas would make its way into major plots—nothing is of certain, who you would end up with is indefinite, the lore will be laid.. But the uncertainty that comes with this, when it will actually finish or just disappear into the drafts after five episodes or so..

I cannot guarantee even my own attachment to the plot, but it played well in my mind when I thought about it and so here I am. Though Congratulations on stumbling upon this fic, and I apologize if you ever become as immersed as I am with this.

Laters,

JJ.

> ovc: MUPLY (191108)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d-42rI4-gkA

#loona #loona imagines #kpop #kpop imagines #heejin #hyunjin #haseul #yeojin #vivi #kim lip #jinsoul #choerry #yves #chuu #gowon #olivia hye #y/n #loona x reader #loona 1/3 #loona odd eye circle #loona yyxy #alternate universe #long reads #series

[gaythingliker69]

Platinum Wings - Part I

Mary Saotome sighed and glanced at her laptop on the desk. The front reception where she sat was small - a desk running along the right hand side of the rectangular room, with a door to the back situated behind Mary. The front door itself was on her left, offering a window into the semi-busy street beyond. She heard the hustle and bustle of late morning taking place outside, and prayed she didn’t have to turn away anyone looking for a consultation or anyone wanting an impromptu small job. Frankly, she couldn’t afford to - running an independent tattoo parlour was more expensive than she’d imagined. Finally, she found the name she was looking for, her next client - Ririka Momobami.

Momobami. The name sounded familiar, a heavy weight sitting static in Mary’s head that felt wrong on her tongue. It contrasted to the given name, which felt light and almost airy as she rolled it around in her head and even said it under her breath. She caught herself, and tried to snap out of it. She was a client. Hell, Mary didn’t even know what she looked like.

Mary was snapped from her reverie by the sound of the door opening. A woman poked her head around the door, rosy cheeks and piercing turquoise eyes framed by platinum blonde hair. Mary was stunned momentarily - her face matched her name, seeming to radiate a warm sort of energy that felt so familiar, yet completely alien at the same time.

“Is this Mary’s?” asked Ririka, her voice so soft she was nearly drowned out by the noise of the street.

“Uh, y-yeah, that’s me,” said Mary, cursing her nerves and trying to regain her composure. “You’re Ririka, right?”

The woman nodded and moved into the shop, revealing she wore a plain white tank top and jeans, carrying a simple black bag that didn’t have an apparent brand. She sat at the desk opposite Mary.

“So… you said you wanted wings on your back? Are you thinking angel or animal?” Mary asked, scalding hersekf for asking too many questions far too quickly.

“Yeah, I was thinking angel wings. On the back of my ribs, starting from either side of my spine. I’d like them sort of tucked into like a resting position so they run down my back, not spread out. I’ve got a picture in my bag if you want to see.”

“Yeah, that’d be really helpful, thanks.”

Ririka pulled out a piece of paper, turning it to reveal the image. The wings sprouted from what looked like new bones, almost like a second set of shoulder blades, curling up into an arch, then dropping down, feathers layering over each other in a cascade, narrowing as they went until they hit a tip of a single feather, which Mary assumed would be past the bottom of Ririka’s ribs towards her hips.

“So I was thinking, the wings start just below my shoulder blades by my spine. They arc up so the top of the bend goes onto my shoulder a little bit, then go back down the back of my ribs.”

Mary stared at the image, watching Ririka’s elegant fingers indicate the different parts of the wings. Her nails were perfect - hardly a mark or chip to be seen. She realised silence hung over them, and she had to speak, to respond to Ririka’s… no, the client’s wishes.

“Yeah! Yeah, absolutely. I can get started shortly if you want.”

“Okay!” said Ririka, her face lighting up and radiating that same warm energy again.

Mary gestured to the door behind her, and Ririka rounded the desk and went through. The back room had what looked like a weird sort of recliner in the centre, but it was slightly worn and beaten, it’s black surface frayed at the edges. The dark red walls were partially decorated with pictures and concepts Mary had done over the years, and the only window was blocked by white shutters. One design seemed to be an album cover, a stereotypical skull with sharp typeface surrounding it. Another was a mix of flags, flagpoles crossed, linking the individual flags together at a common cross-section , a date etched below them. Another was a dove, soaring away from what appeared to be a black line, the vibrant life clear in its eyes and wings. Another picture bore the visage of Medusa, the individual fangs and tongue of each snake visible as her deep frown offered an odd air of protection.

“I’ll lower the chair, and then if you’d lie down on your front? Make yourself as comfortable as possible.”

Ririka nodded as Mary fiddled with the back of the chair, eventually lowering it into more of a bench. Mary went to prepare the ink, her heart racing in her chest, so loud she was sure Ririka heard it. She needed to stay calm - this was a tattoo, this was permanent. If she ever wanted a chance with this girl…

No. Don’t think like that. Just do your job. She kept preparing the ink and needles, trying to ignore the sound of falling clothes and shifting on the bench behind her. Eventually, she turned and oh my god Ririka didn’t have a shirt on. Of course she didn’t. She was lying on her front, back to the air. It was a back tattoo, she’d done these hundreds of times on loads of people. Some of the hottest people she’d ever seen. But she felt nervous here, something she couldn’t afford to feel. This was different, a part of her kept insisting. She knew that part of her was right, deep down, but she couldn’t acknowledge it for now.

“Would you like music, Ririka?” Mary asked. God that name sounded musical, like a collection of chimes blowing perfectly in the wind.

“Please. Something soft? I’m not sure if you have that, but I need something to drift through the pain on, you know?”

“Of course!” responded Mary, moving to get the lo-fi playlist on her phone. “You’re the first person to ask for music like this… most people go for Cane Hill, Five Finger Death Punch, In Hearts Wake, stuff you can power through pain on. Or some people have no music abs grit their teeth.”

“I don’t know who any of those babds are, honestly. But if no one ever used the playlist, why’d you keep it around?”

Mary stopped, looked at her phone, and looked at the woman laying on the chair. She thought for a second, her brow creasing slightly.

“I don’t know. I guess I thought someone would need it, one day, and it didn’t do any harm to keep it.”

Ririka nodded, satisfied by an answer that felt, in a way, too personal for two people who’d known each other all of ten minutes.

Mary lined up her chair and light to work from. Using Ririka’s picture for reference, she traced the outline of Ririka’s wings onto tracing paper. She disinfected Ririka’s back, and laid the stencil down gently on her back, patting it down with reverence. Reverence Mary didn’t know she was capable of. After a few minutes of silence, only interrupted by more disinfecting, Mary gently peeled off the stencil.

“It looks good to me, you wanna check the mirror?”

Ririka stood up, and Mary averted her eyes in panic. Obviously there was no need to stare, but why was she acting like this? She needed to snap out of it.

“It all looks good to me,” said Ririka, lying back down and allowing Mary to be free of her panic.

“Ok, so this’ll hurt a bit in a few places. The ‘blades’ next to your spine and any ink around your actual shoulder blades or muscle at the top here,” she gently tapped the muscle in between Ririka’s neck and shoulder, her finger tingling with some kind of amazing energy from the small contact. “Do you want anything to bite on?”

“No, thank you, I should be okay.”

“Am I okay to start then?” asked the artist, her voice coming out much more softly than she intended. “Just say if you need a break, okay?”

Ririka nodded, settling into the bench as Mary adjusted her light. The noise of the machine drowned out the music slightly, but Ririka didn’t complain. She was a bit tense - everyone was for their first time. But she was strong, enduring the pain as the needles moved up towards her shoulder blades. As they reached the arch, a single tear dropped from her left eye. Mary moved to stop the machine, her heart wrenching, begging her, screaming at her to turn it off.

“No. Keep going.”

Her steely determination showed through in her eyes, almost foggy with tears, and Mary did as Ririka asked. She didn’t normally stop anyway, why was this different? Ririka seemed to ease as Mary moved down her back, only tensing up again slightly as she completed the basic outline by her spine. Next, Mary added layer on layer of feathers, keeping Ririka’s picture there like a guiding star. Ririka hummed to the faint music, seeming to just allow the pain to go over her instead of putting on some dramatic performance like some of the people Mary tattooed. But Mary knew when it hurt, as all of her clients gave off different signs. Ririka was more obvious, squeezing her eyes shut and sometimes biting her lip. Mary scalded herself again, watching the client’s face instead of her back. She eventually completed the first wing, and the muffled buzz of the machine stopped.

“I’m half done. Are you doing okay down there?” Mary asked, trying not to sound like she cared too much, but like she would act for her other clients. She failed.

“Yeah, I’m okay. I’m ready for the other half whenever you are.”

Mary got back to work, trying to focus all her attention on the piece at hand. Trying to ignore the gentle slope of Ririka’s shoulders, the small movements of her chest as she breathed, the soft valley of her lower back…

Mary nearly blushed as she worked. What was wrong with her? Well, she knew what was ‘wrong’. But now wasn’t the time. Not when she was working. As she inked over Ririka’s shoulders, her heart wrenched again, telling her to turn the machine off as it was so obvious she was hurting Ririka. But she pushed on, like Ririka would have wanted, finishing the wing in the same way she had the first, Ririka relaxing as the needle moved away from her shoulders. She turned the machine off after etching in the last of the detail, it’s constant buzz replaced by deep breaths and the music, still playing quietly.

“Ok, so I need to moisturise and bandage it, then you should be ok to get up.”

Mary took the moisturiser, gently working it into Ririka’s back and shoulders, being careful not to hurt her any more than she had. Her heart wrenched again as Ririka caught her breath due to the pain on her shoulders. For the third time, Mary tried to stop it. For the third time, she failed. Her hands felt on fire as she worked the moisturiser across the new tattoo - they felt more alive than any part of her ever had. It was like sparks or fire flowed through her hands. She was a conductor of her own nervous energy and feelings, and also her hope Ririka felt the same way. Mary gently laid a bandage across Ririka’s upper back and shoulders, tenderly pressing it down.

“Okay, I’m finished, you can take the bandage off after a few hours,” Mary’s voice was still soft, not her usual tone.

Ririka stood up, and Mary averted her eyes, busying herself with disinfectant. She heard Ririka pull her clothes over her head, looking up as she heard the woman move towards the door. Mary sat back at her small reception, and Ririka paid. Mary hardly registered the amount - all she saw was the afternoon sun through platinum blonde. Mary handed her an aftercare booklet, still in her daze. But then she realised - this was her chance.

“R-Ririka?”

She back from the door. She was about to leave. This was Mary’s only chance. The sun shone in her eyes now, and they sparkles like the most beautiful ocean, their depth unknowable but their beauty clear as day. Maybe the sparkle was hope.

“You know… you know… if you ever needed anything else doing, you have my number?”

Ririka seemed to deflate a little, or maybe it was Mary’s imagination.

“Yeah, of course. Thank you Mary, you’ve been wonderful.”

She left. The door closed. Mary’s stomach pitched, and a deep hole opened in her chest. She sat back in her chair, and now her tears were the only ones being shed in the parlour.

#kkg #kakegurui xx #kakegurui #mary satome #ririka momobami #meariri #mary x ririka #ririka x mary #tattoo shop au

[thestruidora]

Landslide

The Avengers (MCU) Fanfiction

Rating: Explicit

WARNINGS: This story will contain but it’ll not be limited to explicit 18+ content including Obsessive Behavior, Smut, Shower Sex, Edging, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Fluff, Oral Sex, thigh riding, Dirty Talk, Praise Kink, Jealousy, Possessive Behavior, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Dominance, Submission, Knotting, Scenting, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Rutting, Rut Sickness

Category: F/M

Pairings: Steve Rogers/Reader, Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov

Summary: Steve was never quite sure if he truly was an alpha. Genetically he should be, coming from a long line of alpha males. But due to the several health conditions in his youth, his poorly functioning body never presented. But now, because of the serum reacting to his true designation, a terrible case of rut sickness takes hold of the super soldier, threatening his life. Being a beta, Natasha can’t offer him what he needs, and since omegas are rarer today then ever, she is forced to hire a foreign girl to tend to Steve during these desperate times.

Author’s notes: So the reader is finally introduced in this chapter, and since she is foreign and I’m Brazilian, she’ll be from Brazil as well, as is easier for me to include a language that I already know (Portuguese) and also cultural curiosities. But our similarities stop there, I’m not trying to make the reader into me, that’d totally defeat the point of writing a reader insert story.

Shout outs: @captainchrisstan, @keenkiddeputynickel, @danidv011, @ballyhoobarnes, @pophbfdsxa, @crashbarbie, @readermia, @musicnowandforever661

Thank you so much for you guy’s support!

Chapter Three

For those who missed it >>

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Miscommunication

“This not a good idea.” Bucky spoke, for what it seemed to be the hundredth time.

“So you’ve said, over and over again. I didn’t ask you to come, you know? ” Natasha sighed, focused on steadfastly driving the plane, her hands firmly planted on each side of the control wheel. “He’s in pain, Barnes. And if Bruce’s right about his diagnosis, it’s only going to get worse.”

“I’m the last person in the world who wants to see Steve suffering. He’s my best friend, Romanoff.” The Soldier’s shoulders were tense as he looked straight out of the aircraft's window, seeing the big building in the approaching horizon. “But we have to think about what he would want for a second. I mean, he fights to get these kinds  of places shut down.”

“Well, Captain America’s moral code is the least of my worries right now.” The redhead’s voice came out in a harsh bark, jaw clenched as she smoothly landed the machine. Once the engines stopped and they took off their seat-belts, she looked over at Bucky, who’s face was series and unreadable. Before he could get up, she stopped him. “Look, I despise this too. But we’ve looked everywhere, Barnes. This is the only way and I… And we have to save him.”

Bucky shook his head, eyebrows knotted in a frown, but eventually opened his expression to her, knowing she was right.

“When he finds out that we came here…” He murmured, letting out a long breath and getting up from his seat, Natasha hot on his tail as they left the plane.

“He’s not going to find out.” She said, voice low but never faltering. He stopped dead in his track, noticing the obvious threat in the Russian Agent’s voice. She kept walking as if nothing happened, never looking back, her stride straight and calm. “Right?”

He looked up at the imposing structure of the building ahead of them, the entire place looked dark and mono-toned, as if it had come out of a horror picture. It was a skyscraper, tall with many floors and windows. Tons and tons of windows, all square and sealed with fat metal bars. A shiver went up his spine when he thought of what was being kept inside of that prison, and Bucky wondered if Steve not knowing about any of this wasn’t for the best after all.

“Right.” He let out, following her to the entry with reluctant feelings.

They stopped at a massive closed gate, noting the security cameras surrounding the whole area. Natasha approached the scanning mechanism at the superior right corner of the iron door, letting it scan her retina. After a couple of seconds, a loud buzzing ringed through their ears and the gate opened slowly.

Surprisingly, the place looked extremely luxurious, thou clean and minimalist. There was a grand open space, completely grassed and filled with flowers, like a secret private garden. There were a couple of trees with comfortable-looking swings on them, providing a welcoming shadow to cool off in summer days. But at the sides of the garden, they could also see two tall stone towers, where armed man monitored Natasha and Bucky’s every move.

Stunned at the juxtaposition of the whole thing, they kept walking towards a fancier looking door than the ones before, this one made of a glass-like material that led to a reception area, where they could see a blonde woman typing away in her computer. Her posture was straight and her physique was lean. Her hair was pulled back in a slick bun, not a single strand out of place, making her forehead look bigger than probably was in reality.

There were a few leather sofas on the lounge, but not one single person in the waiting room but the receptionist, and with the level of security and organization of the place, both agents were willing to bet that whoever came there, didn’t have to wait around for long.

“Merhaba, size nasıl yardımcı olabilirim?” The receptionist spoke once they approached her, not ever looking up from the keyboard she typed on, her clear polished nails nothing but a blur as her fingers moved at top speed.

“Hum… ” Natasha turned to look at Bucky for a second, checking to see if he knew Turkish, because that was, unfortunately, one of the few languages that she was not fluent on. But the brunet simply shrugged, looking at her with an impassive expression taking over his features . “Hi!” She tried, and the second that that simple English word left her lips, the blonde woman behind the desk quit typing, her hands stopping mid-air as she finally looked up at them, a spooked look in her face, her skin tone getting even paler than before, almost as if she had just seen a ghost. “We’re here to speak with Mr. Bürsin, actually.” Natasha continued, sharing an uncertain look with Bucky due to the woman’s reaction .

“You are Natasha Romanoff? Mr. Bürsin had already let me know you were coming, but I was told that you’re Russian and… Alone.” She had a tick accent a strict-looking face, even though her scared expression, her royal-blue blazer just a little too tight for her chesty frame.

“Well, there was a minor change of plans.” Romanoff’s voice and posture shifted, mimicking the blond’s, an old manipulation tactic that always seemed to work on Alpha females, like this one, her pheromones strongly wafting out, overpowering her overly sweet perfume and making Bucky want to growl, but instead, he simply rolled his eyes, not at all caring about the dissatisfaction that his presence caused . “I’m sure he won’t mind, thou.”

“I’m sure he will.” With a frown she picked up the phone on her desk, dialing only one number and then proceeding to have a long conservation in Turkish, before finally hanging up. “Mr. Bürsin will see you now.” She gave off a tight smile , knuckles turning white while she still held on to the phone, and before they could move, she spoke again. “But only Miss Romanoff, not the Alpha.”

“What?” Natasha and Bucky said at the same time.

“Why?” The redhead crossed her arms under her breasts, trying really hard not to get visually annoyed.

“Ma'am, we have protocols in place, he cannot come in.” The woman’s tone was polite, but still condescending.

“Don’t ‘ma’am’ me. Do I look like a ma’am to you?” Her eyebrows shot up, completely giving up on the previous plan by now. “I’m probably younger than you.”

When the receptionist expression didn’t change, Bucky touched the Russian woman in the arm, getting her attention.

“Romanoff, it’s fine.”

“No, you-”

“This is more important than any of that, remember why we’re here.” His voice was but a whisper, so that only she could hear. “Besides, I pity the fool that tries to mess with you. You can handle yourself, with or without me.” She smiled at that, looking at him for a while before nodding.

“Alright, let’s go.” Natasha said, giving the blonde a pointed look as she got up from her seat and away from her desk, starting to walk towards one of the many corridors of the building.

“Follow me, please.” Her accent hanged heavy, her hips swinging while she strode atop of her hills.

In the hall, Natasha saw many doors, all closed and guarded b y strong, armed man. There was an ample opening at the end of the hall, where the receptionist stopped, indicating for her to continue with a nod of the head.

When she walked in, noting as the woman closed the door behind her, she almost blacked out from the sheer smell of the room. The whole place looked sterile, but still reeked of Omega pheromones. Even for Natasha, a Beta, it was dizzying. Now she understood why it was so imperative that Bucky was not allowed to come inside.

The room was packed full of chairs, placed in a big circle that led to a stage. There were only man sitting in those chairs, all extremely well dressed. Some old, some young, but all clearly rich. Not one of them gave her a second glance, all to focused on what was about to happen on that stage. There was a narrow hallway in the center, in between all of the chairs. And right next to the stage, in a front-row seat, she saw the back of his head, and noticed the empty seat next to his.

Making a beeline for it, she sat down, yearning desperately for a take of fresh air right about now that she was so close to the stage, where the Omega smell was the strongest, being slowly mixed with all of those Alpha’s scents.

“Do me a favor and warn me next time you bring a friend, will you?” Emir Bürsin’s voice was low and raspy, the light golden hair in his head tinning out and turning grey with age. But still, he was a very handsome man. Strong and muscular, but not bulky, with long, big arms straining inside of this tailored suit jacket.

“There will be no next time.” Natasha was quick to answer, not at all impressed by his imposing build. He gave her one fast look, a crooked smile plastered on his face as he sat down in his front-row chair like a king, legs crossed in a nonchalant display.

“Oh, I bet. Once you try one of my girls, you’ll never want for seconds.” His smile became even bigger when Natasha couldn’t control the disgusted look in her eyes. “But you’re not shopping for yourself today, are you, Widow?”

She didn’t appreciate the use of the nickname, turning to stare at the stage as the lights of the room stared dimming and a cold-toned spotlight shone brightly at the center of the stage.

“No, definitely not.” He laughed to himself as she continued to ignore his remarks, frowning a bit when slow background music started to play. “You know, in this business people talk. And I happened to hear such an interesting tale.”

“I’m dying to hear it.” She murmured, the sarcasm strongly embedded in her features by then.

“I heard- oh, thank you.” He was cut off as different Beta woman, clearly assistants of the place, began to give out number plates to each and every man sitting in the room, making a point not to give one to Natasha. She frowned again at that, getting more and more confused by the minute. As they continued to work the room, he proceeded . “I heard that one of your brand-new, shiny superhero friends got himself into a pretty sticky situation, if you know what I mean. Apparently — and again, this all word-of-mouth —, he succumbed into such a bad rut, that he may actually die if he doesn’t get his hands on an Omega, can you imagine that ? Dying from horniness?”

His scoff was loud on Natasha’s ears, and she never had to restrain herself from punching someone so bad.

“And after years without speaking, completely out of the blue, you call me up to ask for a favor.” A man appeared on stage and, wearing a suit and tie, he stood behind a podium, turning on the microphone in front of him and shuffling through cards. “And that favor just so happens to be exactly what our favorite Captain needs to survive, isn’t that such a funny coincidence? Don’t you just love when the universe plays this crazy pranks on us? I mean, what are the odds of these two situations not being connected?”

By the time he was done, the man on stage had started to talk in Turkish, and the audience cheered on to whatever he was saying.

“What do you want to keep your mouth shut about this, Emir? More money?” Natasha asked, mouth forming a little circle when an entirely naked woman entered the stage, s topping in the middle of the stoplight. Her hands were mechanically stuck to her sides, her limbs clearly trembling as she just stood there, completely exposed for those man’s eyes.

“Money? Fuck money, I got enough of that. I want security.” Natasha wasn’t fully processing the conversation at that point, looking over at Emir who had picked up his number plate and put it up, waiting for it to get acknowledged by the man behind the podium before putting it down.

“What do you mean?” Her lips were moving, she knew she was forming words, but a big part of her brain wasn’t truly there.

Her eyes scanned throughout the room, seeing as other men were also putting their plates up, and that’s finally when it hit her. Her blood ran cold when she realized what was happening, and her vision got stuck on that poor girl standing there, her body shaven from eyebrows down, beginning to follow the instructions of the spokesman, turning around to show the audience her form from behind, and them proceeding to slightly open her legs to show the inside of…

Natasha closed her eyes, not wanting to see more, turning so that Emir couldn’t see her face. She felt like throwing up, a little lightheaded as well. So this was what he did here, he ran auctions, Omega auctions.

“I want the security of knowing that no matter what happens, neither you or anyone of your super assholes are going to come busting through here and ruin my business, that’s what I want.” She tried swallowing down the knot that had formed in her throat, putting on her best poker face to look back at him, only to find the man smiling over winning the bidding. He turned to her, putting the plate down on his lap as the girl left the stage and another waked in right after. “ Do we have an understanding ?”

“We do.” The steadiness of her voice shocked even Natasha herself, but Emir didn’t seem to notice a thing, looking comfortable and relaxed, not taken aback one bit by the situation that was taken place.

“Lovely.” He quickly got up, leaving the number plate on top of his seat, and closed his jacket, exaggerating the slimness of his waist. “So, now that we got that out of the way, do you want to come and meet the present that I hand-wrapped for Mr. Rogers myself?”

Natasha got up as well, trying to ignore the raging feeling running through her body, forcing herself to think of Steve, to think back to the reason she was there, and nod in response to his question, instead of doing what she really would like to, which would be betting him into a pulp.

“I just hope I got the right size.” He chirped as they star ted walking out of the auction room, out into the corridor and entering one of the many doors, where a small bedroom was home to a frightened-looking young woman.

*

Everything hurt.

His whole body ached, literally. He could literally feel the muscles underneath his skin contracting and expanding, and the pain was all so bad. He could feel his lungs enlarging as he breathed air in and shrinking as he exhaled it out, and the burn was almost maddening.

This wasn’t what a normal rut was supposed to feel like, of that Steve was sure. No other person should ever have to feel the way he was feeling, ever.

This was hell.

His own bedroom ha d become hell.

His back was pressed to the bed, the sheets were so soaked with sweat that he felt like he could drown. He tried showering, but that had been a bad idea altogether.

He hated the hellfire that his skin had become, that he had passed the point of feverish a long time ago and now whenever the cold water hit his flesh, vapor could be seen wafting through the air.

But that wasn’t even the worst part, it was the smell. The simple smell of soap, from that ‘vintage’ brand that tries to recreate the classic scents from older eras, the one that he used to love. Now, that smell made him want to trow up.

Now, most smells around his house hit him differently, making his stomach turn and nausea overtake him. He definitely hasn’t eaten in a while, he could see it too, in the quick passing glances he gives to the mirror, how skinnier he has gotten.

The bed is the only place where he doesn’t feel like putting his guts out. Because it smells of him. Only him, and nothing else. No one else. Isn’t that sad? That his body so desperately earns for another, but since it can’t have it, it prefers to slowly shut down and die alone.

All of a sudden, the doorbell rang, and Steve berried his face in his pillow, a growling noise involuntarily coming from his chest at the idea of having to come to the door. That was the worst part of his apartment. The one that smelled the least like him and more like others, especially like Alphas. Oh, god, he hates Alphas. And yes, that includes himself.

“Steve?” He could hear a female voice from outside the door, calling out to him, and the Alpha inside got excited for a second, before the scent of Beta hit his nose, making his face contour into a grimace. “It’s Natasha, can I come in?”

He could hear keys jiggling before he could even answer. Hadn’t he made her give him the keys to his apartment last time?

“No!” He screamed at her, his voice hoarse due to the lack of use.

He wanted to die, in private, was that so hard to understand?

“Well, too bad.” He could hear when she closed the door behind her and began walking towards his room.

“Don’t come in.” He barked as her shadow stopped outside of his door, which was almost completely closed, if not by a tiny slit.

“What? Why?”

Because your mere presence makes me want to break every single square inch of this bedroom while I trow up on top of the debris. That’s what he wanted to say, but instead- “I’m naked.”

“I’ve seen you naked already.” She sighed from behind the barrier that separated her from entering his room, invading his space. And he really didn’t want to be rude to her, not again, but Natasha could be really push y , and it’s not like he could control most of the words that come out of his mouth in the state’s his in.

“And I didn’t like it then, nor will I like it now.” He tried to stop the relief that rushed through him when he heard her murmur a small ‘ok’. “What do you want, Nat?”

“Look, we don’t have much time now, and Banner says the only thing that’s keeping you alive after all these days suffering through what your body’s been suffering is also the thing that made you sick in the first place: the serum. He says that the only thing that you’ll get better and survive this, is seeing your rut out with an Omega.”

At the mere mention of the word, his dick twitched, a wave of pleasure-laced pain cutting through his lower body, and Steve had to contain a moan, embarrassment warming his cheeks even more than they already were.

“I already heard all that before, Nat. I know my situation, but it’s too late now.” He gritted his teeth against each other, getting pretty good at coasting through the pain by then. “And I’m fine with that.”

“But it doesn’t have to be like that.” Maybe she could hear his eyes rolling, because before he tried to ask her to leave once more she spoke again. “Listen, Steve, I know you didn’t want anyone to know about what is happening to you, and I wanted to respect that, but I… But none of us could just sit by and watch you die.”

Her mouth was suddenly dry, her vocal cords scraping against each other ruggedly, creating an unpleasant sound and making it clear that she was nervous, but Steve let her continue, his heart beating faster with her every word.

“So Tony put out an ad, letting people know that Captain America was in need of help, and if any Omega out there was willing they could come to the facility and get tested to see if they were compatible with you. A lot of women showed up — shocker —,” She let out a humorless laugh, listening to nothing but silence in return, “but most of them weren’t even Omegas, and the ones that were weren’t compatible with you. But finally, yesterday, this foreign girl showed up, she doesn’t know much English, but she says that you saved her in Sokovia and that she’d like to save you now. So, if you still want me to go and leave you be, I will, but if you’re done with this whole self-loathing and self-harm thing, I could invite her in, and you two could have tons of savage sex and also not die.”

A long time went by after that, a long period of silence, where only Steve’s labored breathing could be heard. He didn’t say anything, but that wasn’t intentional. He was stunned, actually, still trying to digest everything that Natasha had said. Considering every word, processing it slower than he usually would in his natural state.

“Steve?” The redhead’s voice ringed, waking him up from his trance. “Did you even hear what I said?”

“She’s outside?!” Was the first thing that he could think of saying, voice strained, sounding a little scared, even.

“Yeah, me and Bruce brought her over. Like I said, she knows very little English but she was clear on the fact that she wanted to help you.”

“And we’re compatible?”

“Yes!”

“Are you sure?”

“Oh, my God. Just put some clothes on and get out here!” She demanded, bossy as always, but his Alpha wouldn’t take that, not right now. A loud growl emerged from him, and Steve had to physically restrain himself from breaking something.

Still, he took a deep breath, his head hurt so bad that he wasn’t sure he was capable of getting up. But he pushed through, having to hold his head with both hands to try and make the room stop spinning. Very slowly he got out of bed, immediately missing the familiarity that it provided him.

He looked over at his closet, seeing all of his clothes laid out neatly, and only the thought of having any of that fabric on top of his skin was painful enough to make him give up on that premise entirely and put on his robe instead. Th e feel of it was still very much wrong, but knowing that he would be able to take it off much quicker than any other piece of clothing was just a little more soothing.

If there was one thing you needed to understand about Steve Rogers, is that he was a planner. He not only loved to plan, he was good at it too. He’d plan his missions, his day s , his meals, everything meticulously. That was when he was at he’s most comfortable, making up a plan and following it through. He wasn’t completely against making things up as he went, but saying that it didn’t make him anxious would be a lie.

He always preferred to know how things were going to play out, and this wasn’t any different. He had already created a route for this whole rut sickness deal: he was slowing going to die alone inside of his room, leave his shield to Sam and his comic book collection to Bucky, maybe his record player and records would go to Tony, and he would leave that pretty brooch he got from his mom to Natasha. That was it. It was a date.

But all of that changed now and he had to reroute his way around this. And that’s precisely what he was doing as he approached the door, already having wrapped himself in his robe.

He was going to go out there, tell this poor girl that she didn’t owe him anything, that he was happy to know that he had saved her life in Sokovia, and that she should go out into the world and find love, not wait around like had. Then he would apologize for his friends bringing her here, tell them all to leave him alone for good, and he’d even keep his posture throughout the whole ordeal.

That was the new plan, and he was happy with it. Yeah, this was good. This could work.

“Finally.” Steve heard Natasha say when he left his bedroom, entering the living room, a weird fuzzy feeling catching a hold of him for some reason. “So, can I tell Banner to let her in?”

He simply nodded, not sure what to do with a different kind of sensation starting in his lower abdomen. It wasn’t necessarily good, but it wasn’t bad either, which was surprising, because all he could feel of lately was bad. An uneasy, unplaceable feeling forming. And it was something completely new. Was it… Excitement?

Natasha opened the entry door of his apartment again, getting out but leaving it open. He could hear her and Bruce talking softly in the hallway, but he didn’t care to try to understand what they were saying, he didn’t care about anything, not anymore.

Because even before they walked back in, with a young woman following close behind them, with her hair pulled back and a makeup clean face, eyes glued to the ground and hands closed together in front of her body, he had already smelled her. He had already taken a big whiff of that intoxicating scent, goosebumps staring at the back of his neck, travelling all the way to his cock and making it leak precum. He had already set his eyes on that Omega.

And by then, he knew.

Fuck the plan.

#steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fanfiction #captain america imagine #mcu imagine #MCU fanfiction #captain america fanfiction #imagine abo #steve rogers abo #steve rogers alpha #reader omega #steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #alpha beta omega #steve rogers smut #captain america smut #chris evans #mcufam #avengers endgame #avengers imagine #avengers fanfiction #lanslide chapter 3

[honey-andtea1889]

The Cold Autumn Evenings (H.S.) Part Two

AN: Hello again lovies! So this part is kind of a filler but it’s not awful! I had to go and reread some bits to fix them up a bit but I think it’s decent! I’m sorry it took so long for this to go up as well. I was down in Arizona for a week and let me tell you I miss it a lot. Anywho, enjoy part two! Requests are open! 

Summary: Y/N got caught up in reading Harry’s story, unfortunately this is the reason for her being late

Warnings: none

Song: A Slow Death In Pacific Standard Time by HUNNY

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The next morning seemed like a blur. Y/N woke up super early and continued where she left off in Harry’s story. In the chapter she was on, the man was about to profess his love for the girl, but she had been seen with someone else, leaving the man heartbroken and confused. Y/N could feel the tears slowly falling down her face as she continued the sad chapter. Her phone began ringing as she set the packet down to get breakfast. 

“Hello?” Y/N answered, sniffling and wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater.

“Y/N! How’s my favorite- are you okay?” Harry questioned over the phone.

“Oh I’m fine! I was just reading something that got me a bit emotional is all. Is everything okay?” Y/N asked. 

“Yes, everything is fine. I usually hear from you by now about meetings or issues with clients but my phone was silent the entire morning and I just got worried. Are you at the office yet?” Harry said as he walked out of the fancy building in the middle of London. 

Y/N checked the time and nearly tripped on her way from the coffee machine. 

She was almost 45 minutes late. 

“Oh my god, I didn’t realize what time it was! I’m so sorry Mr. Styles, I’m leaving for the office right now!” Y/N squealed as she bolted to her bedroom to get dressed. 

“Y/N! Y/N, relax! It’s fine. I’m actually on my way to the office right now, I can pick you up if you’d like?” Harry suggested. 

“Are you sure?” Y/N asked. 

“Definitely! Send me the address and I’ll be there in 20.” He said as he hung up the phone. 

Y/N smiled as she texted him her address and entered her bathroom to brush her teeth. When her teeth were all brushed, Y/N did her hair and makeup. She wasn’t sure why, but she was nervous for Harry to see her flat. He was her boss and probably lived a lot better than she did, it made her a bit self conscious about it. 

The flat wasn’t awful. It was small, definitely built for one person or a couple who had just moved in together. The walls were a deep forest green with a brick accent wall that held a fireplace, a lighter shade of pine wood covering the floor. It had an open concept that led from the living room into the kitchen/dining area. Off of the living room to the left, there was a hallway that held the bathroom on the left side and Y/N’s room on the right. 

Her furniture was all given to her from her mother. A simple beige couch that was comfier than most couches sweetly decorated with green throw pillows and a dark brown recliner chair surrounded a small coffee table in the middle of the living room facing the fireplace. She had a small white blanket folded on the lower shelf of the table just in case it ever became too cold. She had shelves that were covered with books on both sides of the fireplace and pictures of family members and adorable plaques which gave an aesthetically pleasing look to her small flat. 

It was her cute little home that she loved dearly, but Harry doesn’t really come around so you could understand the nerves that ran through her as she scampered to get ready. As she fixed up her throw pillows and straightened up some books on her shelves, a loud knock echoed through her flat. Sam barked and ran over to the big mahogany door. 

“Sam, sh! Go into your bed please!” Y/N begged. 

The little frenchie snorted and ran over to his dog bed set along one of the walls. Y/N opened the door to see Harry dressed in black slacks, a white button up shirt, and a peacoat that ended right above his hips. His hair was slightly tousled due to the cold Autumn wind but he didn’t look anything less than perfect. Y/N swallowed hard at how ravishing this man looked. She had to make sure she wasn’t drooling in front of him. 

“Hello, Y/N! Are you ready?” Harry asked, cocking his head slightly to the side. 

Y/N shook herself out of her trance and blushed, hoping he didn’t notice her staring. 

“Almost, I just need to grab a few things. Please come in! Make yourself at home whilst I finish up.” Y/N smiled as she stepped to the side. 

Harry entered into her home and took in his surroundings as Y/N went back into her room to grab her bag and her phone. He thought her flat was adorable and it suited her perfectly. As he admired her cozy little home, Harry soon felt small paws scratching at his legs. He looked down to see Sam shaking his little stubby tail with excitement. 

“Okay, I think I’m all- oh my god I’m so sorry! Sam, don’t jump!” Y/N rushed over to pick up her sweet pup. 

“It’s alright, love! I didn’t know you had a dog. You said his name was Sam?” Harry questioned. 

“Yeah. He doesn’t usually jump on people like that. Guess you’re an exception!” Y/N giggled. 

Harry chuckled and rubbed behind Sam’s ear. The happy, little pooch licked his fingers and snorted with joy. Harry and Y/N laughed as she set Sam down. Harry looked at the small coffee table and saw his novel laying with the cover in clear sight. Smirking, he looked over at Y/N. 

“Is that why you’re late? Too busy reading  m’novel, eh?” Harry smirked.

Y/N could feel the blood rushing to her cheeks. 

“Y-yes. I-I just couldn’t put it down. It’s really good, actually. I’m not done with it yet but I’m getting close.” Y/N mumbled as she grabbed the packet. 

Harry chuckled and opened the door. Y/N kept her eyes on the ground as she exited her flat and made her way to the elevator. 

Harry thought it was cute whenever she was embarrassed about stuff. He specifically recalled the day he first started calling her “Love”. She turned three shades of pink and toyed with the strings on her blouse that hung around her breasts. He wasn’t sure as to why he enjoyed making her blush, maybe it was just the thought of being able to make her flustered is what made his ego skyrocket. Harry has always thought Y/N was attractive. She was his type for sure, with her Y/H/C hair and Y/E/C eyes, not to mention the curves she had, Harry was absolutely smitten to have a girl like her work for him. 

As Harry entered the elevator, Y/N was digging in her purse. 

“Leave something in you flat, love?” Harry asked. 

“I can’t seem to find my glasses. I don’t understand, I had them this morning.” Y/N sighed, still digging into the small brown bag. 

Harry had seen a slight glare on the top of Y/N’s head. He slowly reached and pulled the glasses she was looking for. Y/N shot her head up as soon as she felt his hands in her hair.

“Don’t move.” Harry said. 

Y/N’s knees nearly buckled as she kept still until the glasses were off of her head. 

“Are these the ones you seek?” Harry chuckled. 

The eye contact between the two was intense. They were looking at each other as though the other person was the only thing in the world. It was almost like a movie scene when the love interests had realized their feelings for one another. Harry and Y/N could feel the tension between them as she grabbed the spectacles from his large hands. As Y/N took ahold of part of the frames, her fingers brushed against Harry’s. It felt like sparks when the skin of their fingers grazed one another. The sudden jolt took both of them by surprise.

Y/N blushed again and thanked him. Harry smirked and slipped his hands in his pockets. The two travelled down the building in silence until Harry spoke up as they entered the lobby. 

“You really think m’novel is good?” He smiled, holding the door opened for her. 

“Mr. Styles please excuse the next statement but are you serious? It’s amazing so far! I mean there were a few spelling mistakes and you accidentally used the wrong ‘there’ for ownership once but other than that, it’s stunning so far!” Y/N gushed. 

It was Harry’s turn to blush now. He had been working on that stupid thing for months now. He couldn’t count how many days he suffered writer’s block for the novel, so to hear Y/N praise it as much as she was just filled his heart like no other. 

“Thank you, love. It really means a lot to me that you’re reading over it. It’s been a challenge writing it.” Harry said as they made their way to his car. 

Harry was driving  a newly redone 1970 black Ford Capri. Y/N’s jaw dropped as she slowly walked to the passenger side. Harry chuckled, opening the door for her again. She carefully slipped into the vehicle and looked around the interior. The seats were made of leather and the steering wheel was black with silver lining around the logo. Y/N felt like if she were to move something would happen to the car, she couldn’t start to think how much Harry paid for this. 

“Do you want to stop and grab some coffee before we head in? There’s a shop close to the office.” Harry asked. 

“Won’t we be late?” Y/N asked, looking at Harry as he buckled up. 

“Love, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but we’re already an hour and fifteen minutes late.” Harry chuckled, starting the car. 

Y/N giggled as she fixed her hair. Harry smiled and drove to the small coffee shop close to the office. The two bought small coffees (her’s with extra sugar and pumpkin spice creamer, his just black) and made the last few miles to the office.

The pair had entered the office and parted ways when they reached Y/N’s desk. Claire had bolted over to Y/N once Harry had closed the door. 

“So..a meeting, huh?” Claire smirked as she sat on her friend’s desk. 

“Oh please Claire. He was at the meeting, I was simply running late this morning. I was reading something and just lost track of time I guess.” Y/N sighed, trying to get her things organized. 

Claire chuckled and leaned back slightly, trying to get a glance of Y/N’s neck. 

“What’re you doing?” Y/N asked.

“Just checking for hickeys.” Claire said, still trying to peak. 

Y/N laughed and nudged her friend softly. 

“I’m serious, nothing happened! I mean..there was the elevator when he picked me up from my flat.” She sighed. 

Claire’s eyes almost bulged out of  her head. She nearly jumped over the desk asking for details. 

“Okay! Okay! I couldn’t find my glasses this morning when we left my flat, but of course they were on my head. Mr. Styles had seen them and grabbed them for me, however when I took them from him, I had accidentally touched his hand and Claire, I’m telling you I felt sparks. I’m sure he felt them too! It just seemed like something out of a romance novel or something.” 

Like Harry’s Novel Y/N thought. The slight pink color in her cheeks obviously gave away how she felt for Harry. Claire smiled as she watched Y/N beam. She’s not seen her this happy about someone in a while and that absolutely filled Claire’s heart. The last guy Y/N had dated was a total tool. He was gross and never treated her the way she deserved to be treated. Claire knew Harry respected women more than anything. That’s what made him the most attractive! She wouldn’t have to worry about beating his ass. 

“Maybe see if he wants to hang out after work! I don’t see why he wouldn’t say yes to you.” Claire said as she made her way to her desk. 

Y/N chuckled as she grabbed the packet she had gotten lost in this morning. She turned to the page in which she had left off and began reading again, annotating little notes for ideas and questions she had. She had glanced over to the door that led into Harry’s office and smiled. 

Maybe she should see if he would like to hang out later. 

#Harry Styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles photoshoot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #niall horan one shot #Niall Horan #niall horan fluff #niall horan smut #liam payne #liam payne fluff #liam payne one shot #liam payne imagine #liam payne smut #louis tomlinson #louis tomlinson one shot #louis tomlinson imagine #louis tomlinson smut #louis tomlinson fluff #one direction #one direction fanfiction #one direction one shot #one direction imagines

[when-i-was-your-angel]

Hues of Blue

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes (40's and Present)

Word Count: 1486

NSFW: Non-Explicit

TW: Rage attacks, Steve being angry

Tags: ANGST, Minor Fluff but mostly Angst

A/N: This is set between TFA and TWS! Steve still thinks Bucky died in the war. bold sections are flashbacks.

Summary: Steve tries to paint a portrait of Bucky. What color were his eyes again?

Inspired by my good friend Meral, @/CAPSBVRNES on twitter. Love ya, doll.

Steve had a long day.

Said day started with a rather pleasant dream about waking up with Bucky in between his legs. This was quickly ruined by his alarm clock. Little Steve hadn’t seemed to notice that it was, in fact, only a dream. After Steve had er- taken care- of that problem in the shower, Tony called. There was some life or death mission debrief he was needed on. So he drove two hours through New York City traffic to get to the tower, only to find out Tony needed his opinion on what qualified as a “classic” suit. Steve didn’t even dignify him with an answer before he stormed out of the building. Now, four hours later and his day wasted, he was finally arriving back home.

Steve unlocked the front door of his Brooklyn brownstone and stopped dead in his tracks.

Boxes. Boxes upon boxes of… art supplies? Based on the pictures and labels on the boxes they were filled with paints, canvases, brushes, pencils, easels, and more. Steve looked around nervously and spotted a note on top of one of the many cardboard boxes.

Sorry, Capsicle. Had to get you out of the apartment so I could deliver this shit.

Paint me something pretty.

-T.S.

A hesitant smile made its way onto Steve’s face. His day just got a whole lot better.

- - - Three Hours Later - - -

A few hours, a shit ton of cursing, and a helping of elbow grease later, Steve had himself an art studio. He had set up the three easels Tony got him, positioning them in front of the windows in the office of his brownstone. There was also a simple desk in one of the boxes that he rather enjoyed the look of. It was simple but made of solid oak. He could just picture Tony saying ‘It’s old fashioned, like ye ol’ Cappie.’

With a slight grunt, Steve stood and looked around his new studio. He hadn’t had something so… domestic in years. He smiled and unwrapped a canvas, sitting down in front of an easel. He raised a pencil to his canvas to begin sketching… and nothing happened. “S’pose seventy years and a cryogenic freeze gives you art block.” He thought.

Steve stood and walked around the few rooms in his modest house, looking for inspiration. His gaze flickered over his photo album. “That’ll do.”

He picked up the leather book, flipping through it. There weren’t many pictures. It had been difficult to get a photo back in the 40’s, and he didn’t have many people to take pictures of nowadays. A few pictures of his ma, one of him in the third grade, and- Bucky.

A black and white version of his best friend sat before him. He was told not to smile in his military ID photo, but the little shit found a way to flash a grin right as the camera clicked. The photographer had been too lazy to redo it- and that was it. Bucky was smiling like a damn runaway criminal in his personnel file. Steve worked the picture out of the clear film holding it in place. He had gotten the photo from SHIELD’s files. It was one of few pictures of Bucky in existence. Less than a dozen original copies were left on this earth. He ran his fingers over the sharp of his Bucky’s cheekbone and the plump of his lips. He remembered all the cold New York nights when those lips sat on his neck. Bucky would spoon him- ‘For warmth’ - he said. But the pink lips on the shell of his ear, on the pulse carrying his life’s blood, said it was for so much more.

So Steve went back to his new art studio and sat down in front of his easel again. He clipped the small photo to the wooden frame and picked up his pencil. He took a deep breath and started sketching. He bit his lip in concentration as he worked. After thirty minutes or so, Steve had a drawing that resembled something like his best friend. He smiled and set to work mixing his paints.

Steve always started with the skin. Habit of his from before when he was using cocktail napkins and a waiters pen to draw. He managed to nail Bucky’s complexion pretty much spot on. The cool shades of his under-eye and the baby pink ones of his cheeks.

Then came hair. Shades of brown highlighted with yellow and pink in the lightest of spots. Bucky always hated how thick his hair was but loved the effect it had on the ladies. Said it was a pain in the ass to take care of but it was all worth it when he brushed a hand through the locks and had all the girls positively swooning.

Next was clothes. The green of his fatigues wasn’t perceptible in the black and white photograph but Steve knew that color better than the color of his own eyes.

Eyes.

What color were Bucky’s eyes?

Blue. But there were a million shades of blue. Cerulean, teal, turquoise, baby blue, stormy blue- Ah. Yes. A stormy blue-grey color. He could see them now. Staring into the crisp ocean of his eyes as Bucky kissed him for the first time. He was smaller back then, barely came up to Bucky’s chin, but he didn’t care.

December 1941 - Four Days Before Bucky Leaves

“Hey, Stevie.” Bucky said after Steve opened his door to the frigid New York City air.

“Hey, Buck. What’re you doing here?” It was a reasonable question. It was midnight and Buck hadn’t been by in days.

“Can’t visit my best guy before I ship off to war?” Bucky gave him his smirk but Steve could see the fear in his eyes. The unspoken ending to that question- ‘before I never come home’. Steve smiled and stepped aside, letting him in.

Steve smiled at the memory. He looked down at the paints before him. Blues and whites and purples and reds. He started mixing them carefully, hoping to put a physical representation of the color he still saw in his dreams.

“C’mon. I’ll make you something to eat.” Steve said, walking towards his very empty kitchen.

“You don’t have’ta-”

“None of that. What would Mrs. Rogers say if she knew I wasn’t feeding my guests?”

“She’d call you smart and tell you not to waste your food on a dead-” Bucky stopped himself. That’s not what Steve needed to hear. Steve was quiet as he made his way across the threshold back to Bucky. He stared down at his hands, picking at his fingernails.

“You’re going to come back. You’ve gotta.” His voice was small. Bucky’s heart nearly shattered at the sound. Bucky took Steve’s hands in his, squeezing them slightly.

“I will. I promise.” Bucky stared into Steve’s eyes to reassure him that above anything else, he meant the words he was about to say.

The colors weren’t turning out right. Greens were too blue and blues were too purple. Everything was a mess. Steve felt himself growing frustrated and brought his mind back to simpler times. Times with him.

“I’m always going to come back to you because-” His breath hitched and Steve took notice, eyebrows furrowing in concern.

“Because I love you, Stevie.” Steve tilted his head in confusion. Why did Bucky seem so nervous? They had said they loved each other before.

“Yeah, I love you too, Buck- why’re you-”

“Oh, not like that- for Christ’s sake.” Then Bucky was kissing him.

‘So this is what love is.’ Steve thought. Then Bucky’s tongue was tracing Steve’s lips.

Oh.

Oh.

Paint was everywhere. Frantically, Steve mixed colors in a blur of tears. ‘It’s not right.’ He thought. ‘That’s not him.’ ‘That’s not my Bucky.’

Bucky shared his bed that night. Unlike other nights, however, they were both naked. Pressed against each other for ‘warmth’, should anyone ask. Steve watched Bucky long after he fell asleep. The crease in his eyebrow, the setting of his jaw, the way his eyes moved behind closed lids- chasing dreams. Soon enough, Steve curled into Bucky’s body as he always did. They spent the next four days like that. Wrapped in each other. And for the first time in a long time, he wasn’t cold.

Steve screamed as he threw his palette out the window. The glass shattered and rainbows of light filtered through the broken glass- mocking him. Steve kicked and cried and punched until the entire studio was a mess. In the aftermath of his rampage, Steve lies on the floor. Surrounded by glass, paint, splinters, and blood, Steve sobbed. He broke because he was gone. He crumbled because they didn’t have enough time. He was wrecked because ‘if only we had known. If only we had tried earlier.’

Steve lies on the ground in a brownstone in Brooklyn.

Numb.

Broken.

Cold.

#steve rogers x bucky barnes #stucky #angst #marvel #fanfic #bucky barnes #steve rogers #the first avenger #the winter soldier

[isitgintimeyet]

Just a Friend

Sorry you’ve had to wait a few more days. i had a much needed few days holiday in Devon. And I realised it was the first time since February that I’d travelled more than 20 miles from home!

Anyway, we’re on to chapter 7. Thanks for reading and hope you enjoy

Thanks to @wickedgoodbooks for the beta.

Previous

AO3

Chapter 7: From Feedback to The Force

I can see it clearly in my mind’s eye. A converted barn, situated at the end of a leafy country lane, surrounded by fields full of cows and maybe a horse or two. Jamie’s office will be at one end— all exposed beams with classic mahogany and leather furniture. Perhaps chickens will be roaming around outside as tractors pull up to deliver vegetables straight from the neighbouring fields.

This image begins to fade as I follow my Sat nav instructions and take the next junction off the motorway. Country lanes look to be few and far between in this urban sprawl. Signposts along the tarmacked road point to a series of industrial estates. At the fourth such sign, I’m instructed to turn left and in three hundred yards will have reached my destination.

Having parked up, I make my way towards the large, uninspiring building which resembles some sort of aircraft hangar. Its grey concrete and corrugated iron walls match the overcast sky and the roughly surfaced car park. The only colour in this landscape is provided by the bright orange FraserFood logo emblazoned above the loading bays.

There’s a single door to the right with an intercom. I press it and wait a few seconds.

“Hello, there.” A cheery voice greets me. “Can I help ye?”

“Yes. Hello, I’ve an appointment with Ja— Mr. Fraser, Jamie. It’s Claire Beauchamp.”

“Aye, come on through. Jamie is expecting ye. Down the passage and third door on the left.”

I step into a long corridor, painted an unoriginal white. Fluorescent strip lights hanging from the ceiling cast a harsh brightness. The floor is covered with grey carpet tiles.—the same as in thousands of other working offices across the country.

What sets it apart and brings character to the otherwise anonymous environment is the artwork. Colourful photographs line the walls — a bowl of strawberries, their red glossiness accentuated by the white porcelain; a perfect corn on the cob, rivulets of melted butter flowing around the kernels; a plate of steaming tagliatelle, the parmesan shavings falling gently onto the pasta. Then, as I move further towards the office, the photographs change to a series of images that I instantly recognise, La Boqueria, one of the food markets in Barcelona.

I pause for a moment in front of a picture of one of the stalls selling spices. Strings of different chillies cascade down from the metal frame of the stall. The vibrancy of that market was intoxicating, the noise, the colours, the aromas. I remember wandering from stall to stall snacking on fat, juicy olives, slices of spiced ham and wedges of refreshing melon, just soaking up that atmosphere.

My stomach automatically rumbles at the memory just as Jamie steps into the corridor.

He laughs at this unconventional greeting. “And good day tae ye too. Ye found us alright then?”

“No problem. Sat nav brought me straight here. It’s—“ I stop myself before I say any more, but, as usual, my glass face gives me away.

“C’mon. What is it? It’s no’ what ye were expecting, is it?”

“No— yes—no. It’s fine. It’s just, well, I was expecting something more, er, rural… rustic, you know.”

He sighs, but I can tell that he’s not offended. “What, ye mean like on a farm? Wi’ chickens running around? And tractors bringing the vegetables straight from the fields?”

I nod, feeling not a little bit foolish.

“And down a wee winding country lane, that yer lumbering great vans and lorries have tae drive along? Wi’ no easy transport links fer all the deliveries? And having tae deal wi’ all the food hygiene standards in some great old barn?” He laughs. “Trust me, it may no’ be photogenic but it’s the best place fer the business.”

He takes my arm. “Let’s go intae ma office and I’ll make ye a cup of coffee.”

My stomach rumbles once more. “Don’t suppose you’ve got any of those lovely Spanish biscuits too, have you?”

*********

The display of colourful photographs continues in Jamie’s office. I don’t recognise the scenes, but, I’m guessing these are more local— fields of corn bordered by old drystone walls, hedgerows bursting with dark jewel-like brambles. I pause at a picture of an ancient stone mill, the calm water of the mill pond reflecting the rundown building perfectly.

“That’s a bonny picture, is it no’?” Jamie’s voice is low in my ear.

I turn around. He is standing behind me, gazing intently at the picture.

“It is. Where is it? I’m guessing it’s somewhere here in Scotland.”

“Aye, it’s the old mill at Lallybroch.”

“Where you grew up?”

He nods. “Generations of ma family used that mill tae grind flour fer them and their tenants. It’s empty inside now. The wheel has long since rotted away. Jenny and I would escape there whenever chores were tae be done. She took the photo, weel, most of the photos here actually.”

I study the photograph more closely. “She’s very talented as a photographer. Is that her job?”

“She’d love tae have done that, but once she married Ian and the bairns started appearing, she hasna got the time. Mebbe one day.”

He moves past me towards his desk and I catch a hint of his musky cologne. I find myself comparing it to the slightly synthetic cologne that Frank always favoured. I decide that Jamie’s is preferable. It’s more real, somehow, earthy and, well, more masculine.

“... does that sound ok?”  

I realise that whilst I was considering male scents, Jamie had been asking me a question. “Er, sorry, I was miles away. What did you say?”

“Am I really that boring tae ye?” He laughs. “I said I would make ye a coffee and invite Rupert tae come in and join us. He’s our Head of Product Development. Will ye no’ take a seat?”

I sit down on one of the chairs arranged around a circular meeting table and take a good look at the office while Jamie makes a phone call. The walls and ceiling are the same uninspiring white, livened up by all the photographs. There’s a couple of framed photographs near Jamie’s chair that seem to be more personal. I’m too far away to be able to see clearly, but they look like children... his nephew and niece perhaps?

Jamie’s ‘L’ shaped desk is made of grey wood, as is a tall bookcase and this meeting table. Simple, but clearly a considered purchase, no haphazard grouping of random furniture. The desk itself is remarkably free from clutter— just a laptop with two huge screens and a black leather document wallet. The contrast to the clutter on the desks in my office and home couldn’t be greater. Not that my clutter isn’t important to me—a collection of pots and dishes from my uncle’s archaeological digs plus a paperweight and letter opener that I remember, as a young child, at my parents’ house. Then I realise, looking at the family portraits surrounding Jamie’s desk, that he doesn’t need to gather mementoes from the past. He has a living, breathing close knit family creating memories all the time.

I’m well aware that most of my friends have more of a family than I have, or have ever had, and generally I’m fine with that. But every now and again it hits me right in the gut—this pang of...not loneliness, but more of being disconnected, rootless.

Before I can dwell on this,  there’s a faint tap at the door. It opens immediately and a woman stands in the doorway.  She’s easily past retirement age, quite short and… is sturdy a polite descriptor? Well, short and ‘motherly’ in appearance.

She’s very smiley too. Her eyes crinkle as she grins broadly before speaking. “Jamie, lad. I’ve come tae see if ye both want a coffee. I dinna mind making it. And mebbe a few biscuits?”

Jamie steps away from his desk. “Ah, Mrs. Fitz, how d’ye always ken what I want? Coffee would be grand. And fer ye Claire?”

“Coffee, please. Lovely. White, no sugar. Thanks.”

She looks at me for a moment before Jamie makes the introduction. “ Claire, this is Mrs Fitz. She’s worked wi’ me since I started and I dinna ken what I’d do wi’out her.”

He reaches across and pats her arm gently.

“Mrs. Fitz, this is Claire, a friend of mine. She’s been trying out our Spanish dinner party menu and has come tae meet wi’ Rupert tae give him her opinions.”

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Fitz.” I hold out my hand.

She takes it in both of hers. “And it’s lovely tae meet ye too, Claire.”

She turns away and heads out the door.

“Right-oh. Two coffees it is then,” she says clearly, then carries on muttering under her breath as she leaves. “Friends, is it, then? A bonny lass, sure enough…”

Jamie smiles apologetically. “Mrs. Fitz can be a bit, weel...she’s been working with me a long time. She’s like a second mother tae me…”

He leaves the sentence unfinished, but I know what he’s thinking. Why can’t people understand that we’re friends, that’s all?

*******

Rupert is a complete delight, but somehow not what I was expecting. He rushes into the office just as Jamie and I are drinking our coffees. Nearly as tall as Jamie but quite a bit broader with a large beard, like an overgrown teddy bear, and clad in a sweatshirt and baggy ill-fitting jeans, he looks as if he would be more at home on a rugby pitch rather than in a development kitchen. With Jamie now standing next to him, the office suddenly feels rather small.

Jamie makes the introductions and we settle once more around the table. Rupert places his notebook and pen on the table.

“Ye dinna mind if I take a biscuit or two, do ye?” He asks, with a smile. He knows how tasty they are.

Jamie and I shake our heads and Rupert reaches out and takes two in his large, fleshy hand. He starts to eat, sprinkling crumbs all over his notebook.

“Ye canna take me anywhere,” he says as he tries to sweep the crumbs into his hand.

Jamie laughs and playfully punches Rupert’s shoulder. “Weel, ye can… but only the once, mind.”

There’s an easy camaraderie between the two of them. I’m guessing that Jamie has worked with the same people for quite a while. It’s good to see.

Rupert swallows, picks up a tissue and wipes the stray crumbs from his beard.  “Right-oh. So, Claire, thanks fer doing this—“

“No, I should be thanking you. It was a great meal.”

“Weel, glad tae hear that, but I would appreciate any improvements we could make. Is there anything we need tae change?”

I’ve been racking my brains all the way here, trying to think of something constructive to say rather than just reeling off a list of compliments, nice as that would be for Rupert and Jamie. And, honestly, I don’t know what more I can add. The food was excellent, the wine matched perfectly and the olives were a thoughtful addition.

I tell them all this and Rupert solemnly notes it all down. Sitting there, side by side, elbows almost touching, they look for all the world like two proud parents being complimented on their child’s talents. But they have every right to be proud.

“And nothing else?” Rupert persists. “Nothing we could do better?”

“Well, a couple of tiny suggestions. Maybe a few more pictures with the recipes would help. I’m not the most gifted cook.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Jamie trying to suppress a smile. He’s never seen me in the kitchen, maybe he’s imagining me as some sort of culinary disaster area. I vow to prove him wrong at some point.

“And,” I continue as Rupert scribbles in his notebook. “Perhaps add a couple of suggestions to complete the Spanish night. I made sangria to start the evening. Could you add a recipe for that?”

Rupert closes his notebook with a flourish. “Right then. Thank ye sae much fer that. Glad yer friends all enjoyed the food.”

He stands up, shifting the table as he does so.

“Weel, bye then, Claire. Lovely tae meet ye. Hope tae see ye again.” He shoots a quick look across at Jamie before leaving.

“Rupert’s a lovely guy,” I comment as the door shuts behind him.

“Aye, he is that,” Jamie shifts in his seat. “Listen, I need tae ask ye a favour.”

“Another one,” I joke. “Wasn’t the dinner party enough?”

I add a sigh, purely for dramatic effect.

“Ye can say no if ye want tae,” he continues. “But I was wondering… weel... Ian, that’s Jenny’s husband, his rugby club is having a charity dinner dance a week on Saturday. Jenny’s bought two tickets fer me and a plus one. D’ye fancy it? It would help me out of a wee bit of bother with ma sister.”

Now I’m intrigued about his “wee bit of bother” with Jenny. I don’t want to end up in the middle of some sibling squabble.

“How so?” I’m not giving an answer straight away. At least not until I know what the bother is.

“Jenny bought the two tickets fer me a couple of months ago. I think she was assuming I would bring Laoghaire. But ye ken what happened there. Anyways, she asked me yesterday about it, and ever so casually suggested I might bring Kelly— that was ma date the other night.”

The pattern of Rupert’s crumbs on the table appears to suddenly be of great interest to him. He studies them intently as he talks, his ears turning slightly pink as he does so.

“And?” I prompt him.

“And, I told Jenny that after Laoghaire and I broke up, I didna want tae disappoint her about the dinner and so I’d already asked ye tae come along. As a friend,” he hastily adds the last part.

So, what do I decide? I do love the opportunity to have a bit of a dance and rugby club dos are usually a bit of a laugh, in my experience. And of course, I know Jamie is offering as a friend, so I’m not worried about that.

“Why don’t you want to ask Kelly then?” I want the full story before I give him my answer.

“She’s a nice enough lass but I didna think we had any spark. Plus she was trying too hard. Fer example she asked me what films I liked, then when I told her, she was all ‘no way, they’re ma favourites too’.”

He adds gestures at this point, to demonstrate Kelly’s actions, one hand flapping excitedly, the other resting on my sleeve, lightly stroking through the fabric of my shirt. It feels—

“Apparently we have exactly the same taste in films, music, food, drinks, television and holidays,” he continues as he sits back and folds his arms.

“Sounds like a match made in heaven to me.” I joke. I can still feel the sensation of his hand on my arm.

He looks up at me and frowns. “I’m no’ joking. Ye would be helping me if ye came as ma plus one.”

“Ok then. I do know that I’m not on call. I can come and be your wingman, if you like. Just one question. What are your favourite films?”

“Star Wars.”

This wasn’t the answer I was expecting. He doesn’t seem like a typical fan. Maybe he has a dark side that I haven’t yet seen, with a secret stash of Star Wars figures and multiple light sabres.

“I’ve never watched any of them.” It’s true. I seem to be in the minority but I just don’t get the appeal.

“And I can tell from yer face exactly what ye think of them. But they’re classics, weel most of them, anyway,” he starts to enthuse.

I shake my head. I can’t see that he will ever convince me.

“Well, Sassenach, have I got a treat in store for you!”

And, worryingly, it seems that he’s up for the challenge.

#outlander fanfiction #outlander fanfic #Just a Friend #James Fraser #Claire Beauchamp #Chapter 7

[daretosnoop]

Chapter 2: The Investigation Begins

Chapter 1

This chapter is more descriptive heavy. I changed the layout of the upstairs area to include a bathroom and another bedroom. 

At first, all Nancy felt was dizziness. It was strange. It wasn’t the first time she’d been knocked out by someone. But it was the first time it was done by a masked skull figure, and they didn’t exactly knock her out so much as throw, something, towards her face. Whatever it was, it was potent. She still felt woozy and would have gone back to sleep if it weren’t for the thunder and a woman’s voice.

“Here, drink this”.

The sudden smell of something bitter filled Nancy’s nose.

“Don’t give her anything strange, then I really will have to take her to the hospital,” came another, lower, voice.

“Oh hush now. Just get back to your work,” the woman snapped back. She turned towards Nancy and urged the drink.

“It will make the dizziness go away, dear”.

Ignoring all warnings of caution, Nancy reached for the drink and drank. It was bitter, not that she expected it to be anything else, but it worked. She quickly found herself coming back to terms with her surroundings.

“There’s a dear,” the woman said. “I’m Renee. Mind I ask what you were doing unconscious in the Bolet manor?”

“Someone attacked me”.

“Someone, attacked you?” Renee repeated, not understanding.

“Someone dressed as a skeleton attacked me. I’m Nancy Drew. I’m looking for Henry Bolet”.

“Girl, you sure you didn’t hit your head too hard? Should we take you to the emergency?”

“No,” the lower voice broke in. “No emergency rooms! I’ve already got enough to deal with, and this power outage doesn’t help matters!”.

Renee sighed and shook her head. She turned towards Nancy.

“If you need me, I’ll be out in my garden”.

Saying so, she got up and left out through some double doors.

“I’ll call them and put them on hold and see how they like it!” the low voice grumbled after Renee left the room.

Slowly, Nancy got up and looked around. The room was dimly lit. Candles were everywhere, decorating bookshelf after bookshelf. One bookshelf was oddly decorated by teeth, with each book depicting a tooth on its spine. Another had a stuffed lizard on it. Trophies decorated the other side of the room, and in the left hand corner a desk sat with a young man on a swivel chair.

“Uh,” Nancy called weakly, then cleared her throat. “Excuse me. Are you Henry Bolet?”

The swivel chair turned and she came face-to-face with an oddity of a man. He dressed sharply and was very fit, but he leaned into the red chair and slouched a bit. His crisp looks were contrasted with features that Nancy recognized as a goth look. Not quite one or the other, she thought.

“I am”.

“Uh, well. I guess I’m the woman who fell unconscious at your house. Sorry about that. Bad way to introduce yourself, though, I guess it could be worse.”

Henry looked at her perplexed. “How so?” he asked.

“Well, for starters, I could be all up in your face demanding why you kidnapped my friend”.

“Okay,” Henry drawled.

“Long story. I’m Nancy Drew. We have a mutual friend, Ned Nickerson?” She held out a hand towards him. “Pleased to meet you”.

Henry shook her hand firmly.

“Ah Ned,” he started but then dropped the sentence. He knew who Ned was, barely. They shared accounting courses. Ned Nickerson blended into the class and Henry would have never thought to approach him. But somehow Ned noticed him and stuck around to give a friendly wave and smile.

“He’s, persistent,” Henry concluded.

“Well, that’s Ned for you,” Nancy said, giving Henry a bright smile.

Ned was the only one to notice Henry being even more gloomy and withdrawn as usual. Perhaps he overheard the phone calls Henry had with Bruno Bolet’s doctor and solicitor. Henry didn’t know, but Ned asked him how he was coping with his uncle’s loss. When Henry said he was going to New Orleans, Ned insisted on having someone check in on him.

“I’m guessing he sent you here to check on me. I kind of come off as needy, but I’m fine, really. So you can just go on home and tell Ned I’m fine. Go out and enjoy New Orleans”.

Henry didn’t really understand why Ned would send some friend over. They barely knew each other, so this Nancy person would find things even more awkward. It was best to just get this over with. The sooner she left, the better it would be. The whispers were chattering amongst themselves. They weren’t loud, and they seemed at ease. It was a new sensation.

Skull… find… mask… skull… her…

“I can’t just leave! I don’t know how you’re doing. Plus,” Nancy started to shift her weight from one foot to another. “You see. I’m the type of person, well,” she sighed. “Look, I just can’t let go of what I saw”.

“What did you see?”

“The door was open so I stepped inside. When I entered the living room, there was a man dressed in all black with a skeleton mask. He threw something at me and I got knocked out”.

She’s really lost it.

“I have not lost it!” Nancy snapped, reading his face.

“Are you sure you didn’t just make it up?”

“I know what I saw, and I’m determined to figure it out”.

Well, at least she’s not bothering him about his feelings.

“Can I at least look around for some clues. I promise not to break anything”.

Henry sighed.

“Alright. But I better warn you. Uncle Bruno was eccentric and into all sorts of exotic pets and things. So be careful. Just because he’s dead, doesn’t mean they are”.

Way to sound ominous Bolet. He didn’t mean to scare her, but also didn’t want to deal with a bigger headache than the one his uncle left for him.

But Nancy just smiled, thanked him, and left the room.

 Nancy really didn’t understand why Ned asked her to go and visit some classmate of his. He even acknowledged that he barely knew this Henry Bolet, but she’d be damned if she let the Nickerson charm fail now on account of her. Everyone became enthralled by a Nickerson. So she came down to the French quarters of New Orleans with a friend, Bess Marvin, for a week of good sights and good food, only to have it pour down rain for two days. Trapped in their hotel room, she and Bess called their friends, Ned and Bess’s cousin, George Fayn. It was there that Ned requested her to check in on Henry, and seeing as the rain had no intention of stopping, Nancy went alone.

She was expecting it to be a simple check-in, nothing longer than an hour or two. When she knocked on the door, on one answered. She learned from the concierge that most folks kept their doors open in New Orleans. It wasn’t just on account of friendly neighbours It was also to allow ghosts to exit the house after accidentally entering it. Apparently, ghosts became cranky if they get trapped in a house. Twisting the knob, she entered the manor and went to the foyer. Towards her right was a room and she walked towards it. A person stood in a black tailcoat and boots with his back to her. She called out to them and as they turned, a shiver ran along her shoulders. The person had no face. Or rather, their face was obscured with a skull mask. Before she could ask who they were, what they were doing here, why even were they wearing a mask, the electricity went out. Rats, she thought. Trapped in an empty house with a skeleton person, well done Nancy. A flicker went off and a flash of lightning lighted the room. Within that brief time, the skeleton person managed to tramp up to her, close enough for her to see the eyes underneath the mask. They threw some powder in her face and between her stinging eyes and choked coughs, Nancy lost consciousness.

Had she not been an experienced detective, Nancy knew she probably would have become one today. She went back to the living room and started to investigate. The skeleton figure was inspecting the model cemetery when she entered, so she headed towards it. It was really beautiful and Nancy could see why it would have won an award. This Bruno person clearly appreciated cemeteries from the intricate figures of each burial ground. She read the names. Sleeping Meadows, Terra Siesta, Crowing Crypts, Sorrow Park, Withering Roots Memorial, Forty Winks Mausoleum, all clearly meant for a final resting place. Each burial ground was uniquely decorated and had crypts that indicated how a person was buried. She followed each paths around the cemetery, anticipating any indication of what the skeleton figure was looking at. There was a swamp with an alligator in it, surely a creative addition. There was also a large mausoleum separate from the other burial grounds. It seemed randomly placed and as Nancy peered closed, she saw that there were four engravings on it.

There were buttons that allowed her to change the engravings. Clearly this was some sort of locked box, but she didn’t know the combination that would open it. But she was confident that this was what the skeleton figure was looking at. Stepping away from the model, she looked around the room. There was a collection of portraits on the left wall. These must be the Bolets. They were quite unique in how their appearances overlapped. Guess, this must be where Henry gets his looks and style from. Each portrait revealed the personality of the subject. Oddly enough, they each held some object in their hand. One frame was empty and below it, Nancy saw a piece of paper. She picked it up. On it was an etching of a crow. It matched the engravings on the solitary mausoleum. Surrounding the crow was a detailed border. But Nancy remembered that only one of the engravings had this border. So, there must be three other pictures I need to find.

Nancy looked closely at the bird drawing. It looked like someone stenciled it from some surface. I wonder if this belonged to the Skeleton figure. The paper was slightly damp. So, that must mean the skeleton figure, must have stenciled this outside somewhere. I’ll have to take a look around outside.

Pocketing the paper in her trench coat she moved towards the fireplace. It was cold, but there were indications that it had been previously used. It’s too hot to be using a fireplace right now. She picked through the coals and found scraps of some paper. Most of it was too small and burnt off to be of any use, but she did find one piece with a name on it. Zeke. It looked to be the name of some business, but what?

Nancy stood up and went back to the study room. Henry was still typing away at his computer.

“Henry? I have some questions for you”.

The man swiveled around and raised an eyebrow.

Start small Nancy, you don’t want to scare him. He already thinks you’re seeing things.

“How well did you know your uncle?”

Henry shrugged. “Barely knew him at all”.

“Didn’t he raise you?”

“I guess. If you could call sending me to boarding school, summer school, military school as raising a child. He may have looked after me, but he never cared to spend any time with me”.

“Oh”. Great going Drew. She tried again. “Well, what about your parents?”

“They died in a car crash when I was eight. Then I got dumped onto my uncle. End of his bachelorhood I guess”.

Okay, that didn’t go so well either. She might as well rip the whole Band-Aid off.

“I think this skeleton figure was looking for something in this house. Is there some big object or hidden money or something that people might want to get their hands on?”

Henry looked at her, puzzled.

“Uh, maybe? There’s a lot of junk in this house, as you can see. Some of it might actually be worth something.”

“Well, I think they were after whatever is locked up in the mausoleum box in the cemetery model. It has a lock on it and this,” she took out the crow stencil. “This must have been left by the skeleton figure. If we can unlock the mausoleum, we can get whatever’s inside before the skeleton figure comes back. Do you know where the solitary mausoleum is located?”.

“Look,” Henry began and Nancy internally groaned. She knew that word and tone all too well. Distrust and disinterest. It was rare to ever find another person who had the same interest and excitement in uncovering mysteries. Most people didn’t care about the little odd threads that didn’t add up, only to cry when everything become unwound. It was times like these where she sometimes wished she had her friends and fellow detectives, Frank and Joe Hardy, to back her up. People were more willing to listen to a group than an individual.

“Why are you so concerned about this skeleton figure?” Henry asked.

“Why are you so calm?” Nancy countered. “Someone broke into your house and you’re calm about it? I clearly interrupted them which means they might come back, which means you’re in danger”.

“I got a lot of work to complete”.

Who doesn’t. Nancy sighed, “You don’t need to help me, just tell me a bit about the garden space. Is there a mausoleum that’s separate from other burial grounds?

Henry hesitated. There was such a mausoleum and he knew it very well. Too well.

“What do you need from that mausoleum? The door is completely locked. No one had been inside in years”.

“I don’t think I need to go inside. I just need to look at the building itself. There are engravings that could match the key for the model one”.

Henry nursed his head. “Alright. Once you enter the cemetery and go past the bent tree, the mausoleum should be to your left. Just keep heading that way. Hard to miss”.

Nancy beamed. “Great, thanks so much. She turned to go out towards the door, then turned back.

“Yes?” Henry drawled.

“Do you happen to have any paper?”

“Sorry. Ask Renee”.

Nancy nodded then headed out the door.

Henry watched her leave then turned back to his computer where an excel sheet filled with numerical data awaited him. God, I hope I don’t regret this.

 Outside the Louisiana heat infused into Nancy’s skin. She was not accustomed to the humidity and could already feel her back start to warm up and stick to her dress shirt. She turned to her left and saw a small alcove draped over by green vines. Tucked inside was Renee who was busy potting young plants.

“Hello,” Nancy called out.

Renee looked up sharply and Nancy wasn’t sure whether it was the heat or Renee’s grey eyes that initiated the sweat droplets down her back.

“Hello, dear. Welcome to my little lantern-lit corner of the world. Come in here where it’s dry”.

“What are you growing?” Nancy asked.

“Whatever I need dear”.

“Nothing like freshly grown herbs to add to your food, right?”

Renee looked hard at Nancy and her voice dropped.

“I don’t use these herbs for cooking, darling”.

Then what do you use them for? Nancy wanted to ask Renee this, but the older woman switched topics.

“Have you had a chance to talk to Henry yet?”

“Yes, I have. From your conversation earlier, am I correct in assuming you two are not on the best of terms?”

“My you’re forward aren’t you!” Renee laughed. “Henry is a very morose, very negative young man. Very cunning too”.

“How so?”

“I am almost certain he’s selling his uncle’s property on the sly. When he’s not supposed to, that is”.

“Doesn’t it all belong to Henry now?” Nancy asked.

“Absolutely not!” Renee exclaimed. “According to Dr. Bolet’s will, Henry is to receive thirty percent of the estate. Dr. Bolet’s physician, Gilbert Buford, is to get thirty percent. Our Lady of Route 57 Dentistry and Cosmetology gets thirty percent, and I am to receive ten percent”.

“Is the cemetery part of the estate?”

“Yes and no. It’s not legally part of the estate, but it technically belongs to the Bolet family. It all belongs to Henry now, along with his thirty percent”.

“Who is Gilbert Buford?”

“That’s Dr. Bolet’s heart doctor and best friend. Those two go long back. Thick as thieves”.

Nancy reflected on what Renee provided her with.

“Does Henry seem upset by only getting thirty percent?”

Renee drew her head up and stood tall. “Young lady,” she started. “The Bolet family is intrinsically connected to New Orleans. Henry is not only gaining assets, but also a name, title, and land. Thirty percent of the Dr. Bolet’s fortune is quite a tidy sum, never mind the Bolet family fortune and cemetery”.

“Oh”.

Renee looked towards her plants and slowly resumed her potting.

“I suppose I gave you the impression that Henry is greedy. While I cannot attest to it, Henry is nonetheless not someone you can trust. You best watch yourself around him”.

Renee potted some soil then paused.

“One more thing dear. That skeleton man, I’ve—I’ve seen him too. Now don’t ask me more questions, I don’t want to think about it. But just know, there is something in this house that’s just not right”.

Nancy nodded then switched the topic.

“Do you happen to have some paper?”

“Get the urge to draw something?”

“Yep!”

“Well, now. I know I have some paper in my room, but I won’t be able to go get it till after I’m done potting my plants”.

“I can help you pot the plants”

Renee laughed. “Impatient one you are! No. No. No need. Just take this key and go on up yourself. And while you’re at it. I’m feeling a bit hungry. In my cupboard there’s a stash of Koko Cringles. Be a dear and bring one down for me, and help yourself to one too”.

Nancy took the key and headed back inside. Henry didn’t acknowledge her entrance, so she continued out of the study and up the staircase. It was wonky and creaked a bit. There were four doors. One door was on a lower level and the other three were sequentially placed along the top most level.

She didn’t tell me which door was hers.

Nancy placed the key in the first door, but the handle had no lock. Curious, she pushed open the door and saw an empty room that was bare of anything save a drawer and bed. There was some clutter around the bed and she assumed it was Henry’s. Why would he sleep here though? It was so, lifeless. The rest of the house had character, but this room just looked sad. Nancy quickly shut the door and move up a floor.

The next door had a vase decoration near it, though Nancy didn’t recognize the plant resting within. This door had a lock and she tried the key. The door unlocked. She stepped inside.

 The room looked like a doll house. A creepy one at that. There was an elegant but simple bed with green bedsheets. The bedside cupboard. A vanity table was littered with all sorts of bottles and herbs, and a chest sat in one corner, opposite the bed. Nancy first went to the table.

A bottle with the label ‘hiccup powder’ sat at the forefront. Surely not, she thought as she picked up the bottle and opened it. But to her surprise the burst of powder caused a series of hiccups to come bursting out of her. She quickly put the bottle back, then began to rummage through the other bottles. There was nothing labelled sleeping powder or knock-out powder, though some of the bottles were unlabeled. She didn’t think it was wise to open them though. There was no paper on the table, so she went towards the cupboards.

Opening the top drawer, Nancy found the paper. She then opened the bottom drawer and found a stash of chocolate. Jackpot baby! She took one for Renee, and then ate one. The warmth of the melting chocolate felt good in the creepy room and Nancy couldn’t help but take one bar for the road. No telling when she would need to keep her fortitude up in this house. She got up and turned towards the door when something on the wall caught her eyes.

The wallpaper itself was old, faded and ripped in places, but clear as day in the centre were seven symbols surrounding a major rip. They contrasted a glaring red against the pale yellow wallpaper. Blood red. Nancy stepped towards the symbols and tentatively placed a finger on one sign. The colour was dry and odorless. Probably not blood. But she had no idea what those symbols meant.

Walking around the room, Nancy noticed a rocking chair and went towards it. Lightning flashed and as thunder rumbled, Nancy caught a glimpse of a doll. Not just any doll, but one she specifically saw with an old case of hers. A doll that belonged to a woman that died more than 200 years ago. Nancy had no idea how Renee could have gotten her hands on that doll seeing as the company closed a long time ago. She turned to her right and saw the chest.

Squatting down, she saw four abstract figures on each corner and a large blank circle at the centre. Surrounding the large circle were a multitude of buttons. Curious, she pressed one, and a line appeared on the centre circle. She pressed another and another line appeared. The centre image was now beginning to look like one of the corner figures. She pressed two more buttons but both failed to finish the image and the circle blanked out.  

Nancy looked back towards the wall symbols, then at the chest. Random symbol equals random symbol? She tried again to replicate one of the corner abstract figures. This time it worked and the figure turned blank. Curious lock, she thought as she solved the other three figures. Once all the figures turned blank she heard a click and the chest lifted a little.

Opening the chest, she saw all sorts of odds and ends and a book on hoodoo symbols. She opened the book up and skimmed through the pages. On one page she noticed that the symbols on the wall matched the one’s in the book. Beside each symbol a name was written. Bah? Boo? Dee? Mo? They didn’t spell anything, nor make any sense. Still, it was best to record it down. Nancy took out a notebook and pen from her trench coat and jotted down each symbol along with their associated name. She then packed everything up and headed out of the room and back towards the garden.

#nancy drew #CRY #Legend of the Crystal Skull

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

Imagine:

Erik and reader getting involved only to find out that he’s really crazy. “Boy next door” I’m obsessed with you type of crazy.

Cingulomania

(Sing-gyoo-Loh-may-nee-uh)

A strong desire to hold a person in your arms.

Ineffable;

(a.) too great or extreme to be expressed or described in words.

Lacuna

(n.) a blank space, a missing part.

——————

He was perceived as familiar, approachable, and dependable, typically in the context of a romantic relationship. He didn’t try to stand out in a crowd or be the center of attention but he still shined. But then...he was orphic; mysterious and entrancing; beyond ordinary understanding.

Y/N first met Erik at a poetry reading. She came with her friends and he came alone. Although it was their first time meeting, she could have sworn she’s seen him before. Maybe, they crossed paths on the train home, or maybe they lived within the same area. Sitting alone at that table, eyes focused on the person who recites their poetry, Y/N couldn’t help but to stare at him, hoping that he would notice. After a round of snaps from everyone, she looked back over at him, his eyes connecting with hers like a magnet. She gave him a faint smile before turning away.

Y/N didn’t understand the way the simple interaction ignited his soul. He’d been wanting her to do that for a long time. Ever since he first saw her on the train, the smell of blueberries in her hair and cocoa butter on her skin. Erik would position himself behind her every train ride so that he could discreetly smell her or feel her warmth against his. He was obsessed with a woman he didn’t even know personally. So obsessed that he even figured out where she lived. Park Slope, Brooklyn. The outside of her apartment painted a brick red. She lived on the second level providing a spot on view for him to admire her. This was his regular thing after work, standing across the street for hours just watching her.

It was as if his fate was set. He had to approach her now that she finally looked at him with interest. Finally, she was going to be his and only his. He could claim her properly, smell her any chance he got, touch and kiss all over her beautiful frame. What surprised him after the poetry event was that she approached him first. At the bar, she walked up to him, Erik trying his best to act natural.

“You come to these often? I’ve never seen you here before.”

She sounded like heaven itself.

“First time. Figured I’d come and support since there are a lot of talented black people here tonight.”

“Did you come alone?”

You know I did, he thought to himself.

“Yes,” he looked down at her, “didn’t have anybody to go with.”

She had this mesmerizing look in her eyes. The same look he would give her and she didn’t even know the effect she had on him. Y/N drove him crazy.

“I’m Y/N,” she says, reaching out to shake his hand. Erik takes it, feeling nothing but the soft smooth skin of her palm. His eyes trailed from the gold tennis bracelet around her wrist and up her arm where a small tattoo of a famous poetry quote resides. He memorized those words already. That’s how much he’d paid close attention to her.

“Figured I should introduce myself just in case you wanted to come with me to one of these things instead of by yourself.”

“What makes you think I would want to?” He teased.

“I’m not convinced by that at all. I have a feeling you would.”

You don’t know the half of it, girl, he thought.

“Oh, I would...” he leans in towards her face, his lips mere centimeters away from hers. The Cupid’s bow of her upper lip and the way her bottom lip pouts always drove him wild.

“And I’m Erik.” He gave her a lopsided grin.

“Erik...” she spoke in a honeyed tone, “I like the way that rolled off my tongue.”

He didn’t need that thought. It only made him think about fucking her with his name rolling off her tongue in between moans. She was very lucky that he had complete control at the moment over his actions. If he didn’t, he would have ripped off that little black dress and spread her legs over that bar stool she was currently seated on.

“You’ll like it even more if you let me take you home.”

————————

Present Day:

Erik: Y/N? Where are you?

Erik: why aren’t you answering your phone?

Erik: I called you like five times. You know I don’t like it when you ignore me.

She stared at her phone from her desk. This was becoming ridiculous... and scary. He was becoming suffocating to the point of death. She couldn’t even go to work without calling her phone, sending her pictures of his naked body, and nasty texts. Now, he was pissed off because she was busy that she ignored his advances. It wasn’t her fault that her job had a no phone policy put in place now because client emails were being ignored.

Her phone vibrated loudly against the surface of her cubical desk. She sighed with frustration, excusing herself to go to the employee bathroom. She chose the one where only one person could occupy it, locking the door and turning on the sink. Y/N picks up the phone.

“Erik you know I am at work why are you blowing up my phone! I told you I can’t be on my phone at work! You want me to loose my job?”

“Hello to you too, beautiful,” he says with a spiteful tone, “and don’t fucking raise your voice at me! You remember what happened the last time?”

She couldn’t forget. The sex was psychotic. Y/N woke up with scratches and bite marks all over her.

“You are taking things too seriously, Erik. You can’t act like this I have a life too.”

“But you don’t need to work. I can support you. That’s why I need you to move in with me.”

Y/N couldn’t begin to describe how pressed Erik was for her to move in with him. She loved him but right now they had some things to work out before their relationship ended.

“Hello?” He spoke.

“I don’t know about that, Erik.”

“Why? Don’t you love me?”

She couldn’t stand when he did that.

“Of course I do, but..”

“But what?!! There shouldn’t be a but if you love me Y/N. I love you. I love you so much it hurts.”

She looked around the restroom, a nervous feeling circulated her belly.

“Maybe we should talk about this later, okay? I got some work that needs to be finished. Dinner? My place?”

“Nah, lets do it at mine this time around.”

She blanched.

“Erik, we always do it at your place...”

“You don’t want to be there or something?”

He could go from sweet to evil in a matter of seconds. No, she honestly didn’t want to be at his place. If she did, he would beg her to stay or MAKE her stay and then she would never go back home. She couldn’t even breath in her own skin. Y/N couldn’t even remember what she smelled like because everything that surrounded her reminded her of Erik. It was as if he was non verbally telling her that she was his and only his.

“I just have things to do around the house that’s all.”

He went silent, Y/N chewing on her bottom lip.

“...fine. We can do your place.”

She quietly let out a sigh of relief.

“Great, I can cook for you and we can have movie night.”

“Can you wear that little black slip dress you wore when we first met eachother? You know how much I love that on you, Y/N.”

“Erik, you always make me wear that,” she complained.

“So? It’s my favorite. I want you to wear it...no panties...no bra...just the dress.”

A knock came to the bathroom door, startling her.

“E, I gotta go, okay? I’ll see you later.”

“OKay, see you soon babe.” He gave her a round of kiss through the phone before hanging up.

—————

She figured she could make some Cajun shrimp pasta since she had all the ingredients at home. Entering her building, she checked her mail slot, finding it empty. It used to have flowers almost every Wednesday from Erik but he stopped doing that once she explained to him that she didn’t have enough vases to hold all the roses and gardenias. Taking out her key, Y/N opens her door, the vision of Erik standing before her with his hands in his jeans pockets. Before she could even express how she felt about him being at her place before the scheduled time AND unannounced, he scoops her up, twirling her and kissing her with a whole lot of tongue. She leans away from him, trying her best not to appear annoyed with him.

“I thought dinner would be this evening?”

He didn’t even bother responding. He had his face buried in her neck, smelling her with loud sniffs and squeezing her waist tightly. Y/N looked worried, bringing her hands up to cradle his face, making him look at her.

“You smell so...good...”

“...thank you. Erik,”

“I wanted to suprise you.”

She gave him a perplexed look, “how did you get a key?”

Erik bit down on his lower lip, taking his thumb to stroke her cheek, “I got one made for me to use whenever I needed it. Figured since your mines I can come and go as I please, you agree?”

No, she didn’t. Y/N slips out of his hold, walking to her living room to remove her heels. Erik brushes up against her, startling her. She could feel him unzipping her skirt.

“Babe, I just got home,” she whines.

“And I haven’t seen you all day...I need you. I need what’s mines.”

“Right this minute?” She questioned with annoyance, “I’m tired and I expected to take a nap before you got here.”

“You can still take one, and I can watch you sleep.”

All of these signs made her believe he was greatly obsessed with her. Overly needy and a damn psycho when he didn’t get his way.

“We need to talk...” she turns to him.

“About you moving in with me? Yeah, let’s talk about that.”

Erik pulls her down and over his lap. She straddled him but that position wasn’t right for the topic of conversation. How dare he look at her with those brown eyes.

“We should take a break.”

The brown in his eyes fogged with an eerie black. Even though his eyes looked enraged, the stroke of his finger tips on her back was comforting.

“You wanna break up with me?”

“No-no, just take a little time away from eachother. I can see my friends and family,”

“But you have me. I’m enough to be all that for you.”

“Babe, are you hearing yourself?”

“Loud and fucking clear,” he clenched his jaw, “Are you...are you sick of me or something?”

“I just think that we need some time apart. You’re... I just don’t want you to get so overworked because of me.”

It didn’t matter how sweet she sounded. She wanted a break from him for however long that would be. His resolve slipped and the palpable attraction he had to her couldn’t be ignored for days and days.

“You know what breaks lead to, right?”

She sat very still over his lap.

“It means you get used to me not being around, and then you start enjoying that...a little too much.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,”

“Shut up while I’m talking!!!!!”

He scared her with just his tone alone. His face softens, eye brows knitted together with worry while his hands grabbed her hips. Y/N swallows spit, waiting for him to say something.

“You want a break to do what? See other people? You are mines, Y/N. I knew that the very first time I laid eyes on you.”

Erik didn’t know if Y/N had other men trying to talk to her. He had such a close watch on her like he was a damn P.I that he was certain she wasn’t cheating or other men were begging to be with her. Guys would look though, that didn’t bother him too much because he knew the effect his woman could have on people. Women and men. Look at him, he was head over heels and ready to kill for her. There was the guy who lived above her but as far as Erik knew he was gay. Then, there was an ex of hers who didn’t get the memo everytime he texted her phone. In the beginning when that happened, Erik made sure to link Y/N’s texts and email notifications through his phone to keep a secret eye on her. Sure enough, they were having conversations, nothing sexual just too friendly. That was her fucking ex. She wasn’t allowed to talk to her ex. Erik took care of it, she hadn’t heard from him in about two months now.

“Not every break means go and see other people, Erik.” She rolled her eyes at him. Erik grabs her chin hard, making her look at him. She glared down into those now black eyes.

“But when they don’t see you on my arm, then they want something. C’mere, let me show you something to remind you,”

Erik lifts her up, carrying her to her bedroom. Opening the door, he walks in dropping Y/N on the bed.

“This is another reason why I came early. Look up,”

She does, a look of pure shook on her face. Their was a huge black and white photo of them both having sex, framed and all, positioned on her ceiling. The position he had her in...this was the first time they had sex. Erik wanted to use a camera to record the memorabilia and she agreed. Back then, she was all for this affection and admiration from him. Now, it was like she’d been buried alive. Lungs filling up with dirt.

“Something to remember.” He smiles wide, this longing look on his face, “I can remember that night in detail Y/N.”

“Erik, please, stop.”

She couldn’t look at him without seeing that damn photo.

“Weed after sex.” He closed his eyes, most likely remembering the chill moment under his covers while the both of them talked about anything.

“I licked it, so it’s mines. You’re especially gorgeous when I look up from between your legs.”

It was as if he were created to seduce and destroy. This wasn’t some demonic contract where she signed over the rights to her soul.

“That’s enough, just stop it,” she lifts from the bed, ready to run away from this. It was maddening.

“Where are you going?!!!!”

He beat her to the door, slamming it shut. She backs away, fear on her face and eyes watering.

“You’re not leaving me, Y/N. You’re frustrated baby? Let’s work that shit out. Take all that sexual frustration out on me, please...and thank you.”

“It’s not sexual, Erik, it’s literal frustration. I am suffocating!!!!”

“No you’re not.” He wasn’t convinced. It was as if his brain was wired to believe that it wasn’t.

“You are driving me insane!!!” She wanted to throw something at him.

“Why are you talking to me like this?” He looked defeated. He started bringing his hands to his chest, shaking his head while stepping closer. The back of her legs hit the side of the bed.

“I thought you loved me? I thought what we had was special and you...”

He was between her legs now, reaching out to grab her up against him. He brought his face close to hers, his lips pressed into her cheek.

“You give me the craziest urges,” he laughs, but the laugh wasn’t him...

“Urges?” To do what exactly?

“Wanting a break from me is only gonna make me want you more and more.”

This was a never ending loop. She thought about hiding out at her families but she was certain Erik knew where they lived.

“Urges to do WHAT?”

He played with the hem of her skirt.

“Like...kill for you.”

Y/N suddenly thought about her ex. She hadn’t heard a word from him in a while and just yesterday his sister had called her asking about him. Y/N was still close with his family. Her ex used to say that he would die for her and kill for her too but the way Erik said it...he said it like he was used to this type of thing. Like it was a regular thing to just kill someone.

“Erik...what did you do?”

He froze, looking up at her with a glint in his eyes.

“What wouldn’t I do for you?”

@tgigoldie​ @soufcakmistress​ @chefjessypooh​ @chaneajoyyy​ @pananegra​ @theblulife​ @becincere​ @blaqwidow91​ @fish-outta-watah​ @moonlight-night-sky​ @eyeknowmywrites​  @crowngold​ @njadakillthiscookie​ @blktinkerbell​ @luvanxi​ @sheisexcellent1​ @chocolatedippedinhoney​  @brandithecrystalgem​ @dababydababydababydababy​ @soulfulbeauty19​ @btitannaaa​ @sunkissedebony97​ @youngblackndgifted​ @harleycativy​ @rbhp​ @thee-germanpeach​ @thadelightfulone​ @bugngiz​

#killmonger imagine #killmonger x reader #killmonger fanfiction #black panther killmonger #erik killmonger #nahimjustfeelingit-writes

[ohwereusingourmadeupnames]

I have so many prompts😭😬 my last one was "Peter works at a rescue, Tony comes to get a doggo because he’s a single man in his 50s starting to feel the emptiness of the penthouse more and more. He gets way more than that."👬🏻🐶 But if that's not your thing and you fancy having a look at the ones I think of + ones others have come up with and I thought were cute I'll leave you the link ( /tagged/pp%3A%20prompt ) 🌸🌸🌸 can't wait to read regardless of the prompt!! have a lovely day!!

Struck From A Great Height

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark (Starker) Rating: Teen (T) Notes: This was perfect! I love puppies and Tony with a puppy was a true treat to envision. Thanks for the prompt @puppypeter! I’ll take the next one please ;D Oh, & the picture Tony sends to Peter is this one!  Word Count: ~3.3k Warnings: There aren’t any - just cute puppies. Summary: 

Tony is lonely so he adopts a white lab named Zero. He meets another kind of puppy at the rescue and decides to keep him, too. 

do the thing, send in all the prompts 

Loneliness – a word that could easily be used to describe the feeling that steadily crept up on Tony Stark.

He couldn’t pinpoint when it became a thing. For most of his life, being alone was the goal – with no one around to want things from him, Tony was free to do whatever he wanted, when he wanted. Building a multi-billion-dollar company up from a structure that Tony didn’t want anything to do with took a lot of time and effort. Simple things like love and affection weren’t really anywhere near his scope.

When getting older started to become apparent, Tony ran from it. He hopped into bed with whatever man looked his way with the right sparkle in his eye. If these people found him to be desirable, did looming near 50 actually mean anything?

The longer he let himself stoop to the lowest of low, the more he realized that men who wanted nothing more than his body weren’t worth the effort it took to get dolled up, go out, entice them, and do the whole song and dance that inevitably led to something quick in the bathroom or a rough fumble in his bed. Waking up alone after that made the emptiness ache a little more.

It became pretty apparent that behavior like that didn’t particularly help, so he reverted back to the lab rat that he truly was and put all of his efforts into the creation of tech and furthering of the projects that were already in the works. If Tony could rely on anything to get him by, it was his brain and the depths that existed within it.

And while that was fulfilling in a professional sense, Tony craved something more. No matter how much he told himself he didn’t need anything or anyone else – the deepest part of his soul called out, his soft bits desperate to take care of another living thing. The grandness of his penthouse that used to bring him so much joy just seemed empty – the multitude of rooms wouldn’t make him happy, that much was for sure.

Rhodey brought up the idea of a pet one night over dinner – he’d been able to step away from his pregnant wife to spend a bit of time eating junk food and playing the latest COD update. Tony didn’t like to admit it, but this time with his best friend was the highlight of his month. The thought of that made his skin crawl slightly – he loved the hell out of Rhodey, he couldn’t deny that. Yet, being completely overjoyed by nothing other than his presence had that pit of loneliness opening up within him a little more.

Listening to him talk, Tony wasn’t put off by it – in fact, having a dog with floppy ears to make a mess around the place might actually be the cure to the melancholy that didn’t want to go away. Tony couldn’t take the blue feeling for much longer – to most people, his life was perfect. Trying to portray that constantly was exhausting and compounded the already shitty feelings that weren’t anywhere close to changing.

The very next day, Tony spent the first part of the day looking up rescues that were open for adoption. His heart started to beat a little faster when he started to scroll through the many adorable little faces of the dogs that were just waiting for someone to come along and take them home. A small white lab puppy caught his eye, the small dog making his decision pretty easy.

Tony took the rest of the day off – he wanted to see about the adoption process and if all things went well, get his new friend home and on the path to adjusting to the good life that he couldn’t wait to provide. Changing out of his suit into a pair of jeans, an old AC/DC shirt, and an open black and red flannel, Tony set out towards Happy Tails, his final destination.

A wave of nerves washed over him when he first walked through the door of the shelter. The smell of cleaner reminded him of the many hospital visits he had over the years, the memories almost enough to send him back through the doors and as far away as possible. Before that could happen, Tony was welcomed by a soft voice – a sense of calmness surrounded him almost immediately. Continuing on his original path, Tony clenched his fist tightly and walked towards the comforting voice.

“Welcome to Happy Tails!” Tony heard again when he got a little closer. Looking up, Tony had to stop himself from gasping – the man behind the counter was the most exquisite being he’d ever seen. Chestnut hair framed sharp cheekbones that were covered with a soft redness that probably sat there enticingly all day. There was the slightest touch of facial hair coating the man’s face, the chin strap he was working on still on the thin side. When they locked eyes, Tony felt himself blush, the wide smile on pink lips knowing and entirely too enticing to actually be real.

Raising a hand like the idiot he actually was, Tony waved at him – his stomach dropping at his stupidity almost instantly. “Uh, hi – “ Tony muttered, his brains attempt to fix the situation failing miserably. The hearty chuckle he was met with was just as sinful as the smile and eyes and cheeks that this man was graced with.

“Hi! Thanks for stopping in. I’m Peter – one of the resident puppy gurus. What can I help you with today?” The man – Peter, said with a wide smile and the most brilliant twinkle in his eye. Tony found himself returning the look without a second thought, his cheeks pinching uncomfortably after a few minutes of the beaming grin taking over his face.

“Puppy guru, huh? You may be exactly who I’m looking for, then. I saw this dog online,” Tony started as he walked closer to the desk Peter stood behind. He showed him the beautiful white lab, the fingers on his phone shaking slightly. “I want to adopt him, if he’s still available.”

“Oh, that’s Zero. He’s one of the newest fellas on the block and is very much available. He’s really chill and likes to sit around a lot for a dog his age. Labs are usually filled with energy. Not Zero – he’s just along for the ride.” Tony listened intently, Peter’s babbling about the dog absolutely adorable. Not to mention the fact that Zero sounded like the best companion – another entity in the house that just wanted to exist.

“Why don’t we got back and meet him? They just got fed, so he’ll be ready for a nice cuddle.” Peter gestured for him to step around the counter and opened the door leading into the kennels, following behind him closely. Tony looked around, his senses overwhelmed by all the sounds and smells that immediately hit him. There were a multitude of dogs in kennels, all shapes and sizes of them, each one looking at him with some sort of look in their eyes.

Peter put a hand on his lower back and pointed towards the end of the hall – “ the puppies have their own hallway.” The hand stayed where it was until Tony was out of the danger zone and in an area that was far less populated. Tony saw Zero before Peter could point him out, the small white lab sat in the middle of its kennel, looking at them curiously.

Tony felt his heart melt a little when Peter opened the kennel and Zero walked right over to him. Crouching down, he put his hand out to be smelt – the wet nose against his skin had him laughing, a huge smile slipping across his face. When the paw shot out to press against his wrist, Tony was a goner. He sat on the floor and let Zero walk into his lap – Tony wrapped his arms around the pup and scratched wholeheartedly up and down his back.

He saw Peter sit down beside him in his peripheral vision, his hands reaching out to run over Zero’s soft fur, too. Tony turned his head to look directly at him, the grin still alive and well on his face. “What do I need to do? I can’t leave here without him,” Tony admitted shamelessly, his chest light in so many ways for the first time in a while.

The smile he got from Peter in response to his question could only be described as breathtaking – the roundness of his cheeks made Tony want to reach out and touch; his entire being ached to see if his skin was really as soft as it looked. He watched Peter slip his tongue out and wet his lips, the other not missing the fact that Tony couldn’t look away. Peter let out a soft breath and kept staring at him.

“The process is pretty easy, honestly.”

And it was – Tony paid the fee and signed the paperwork while Peter ran through Zero’s latest vet visits and the ones that would be necessary in the future. Tony didn’t think to bring a leash, so Peter gave him one hanging behind the desk. “I teach a behavior class on Friday nights. You can bring the leash and Zero back later this week for it,” Peter said confidently, their fingers brushing when the leash exchanged hands.

Nodding, Tony held up the leash in salute. “Whatever you say, puppy guru. Do you happen to have a card? Just in case I have any questions, or anything.” Tony tried to sound innocent, but the smirk that pulled across his face gave him away. It’d been a long time since he tried to get someone’s number – he felt a little rusty.

Peter didn’t miss a beat, however – he pulled a drawer open and de-capped a pen, his hand flying over the card quickly. “That’s my personal. Just in case,” Peter shot back, his fingers pushing the card across the counter.

Tony picked it up before he knelt down to get the leash attached to Zero’s collar – the dog resting heavily against his leg while he did. Petting his head lightly, Tony stood back up and threw Peter one last grin. “Thanks for the help, Peter. We’ll see you Friday.” Tony couldn’t help but smile as Zero started to pull him forward, the dog’s paws slipping on the floor in his haste.

----

After letting Zero explore both the front and back seat of his car, Tony settled into the driver’s seat and set off towards the nearest pet store. He felt a little nervous bringing his brand-new friend into the store – they weren’t used to each other yet. Zero didn’t even bat an eye, though – he followed Tony around the aisles with a wagging tail and minimal barking. Tony held the different toys down for Zero to sniff every now and again, his dog just as indecisive as him.

In the end, they left the store with a whole lot more shit than Tony originally intended. The big bed looked hilarious in the backseat of the small Audi. Zero seemed to like it, though – he curled up on the thing the second Tony started the car. He figured he’d be dealing with an unruly puppy, or overexcited thing that couldn’t control itself. The reality of the situation was even better.

The night went surprisingly well – Tony let Zero take up whatever space he wanted in the penthouse. Peter assured him that he was potty trained, which proved to be correct pretty early on when the dog scratched his leg and looked longingly towards the balcony. He did it again early the next morning, his cold nose pressing against Tony’s cheek more than enough of a wakeup call to get him out of bed, stumbling towards the sliding glass door. The damn dog was too cute, it seemed impossible to hold anything against him.

Physically unable to part himself from Zero, Tony put the brand-new blue collar and tags they got the night before around his neck. The ‘bad to the bone’ leash clipped nicely to it – the whole look totally fitting for the badass little pooch. With Zero completely decked out and identifiable as Tony’s, he felt comfortable enough to leave with the pup for the day.

Tony’s caffeine headache had him pulling into the drive-thru of his favorite café, a smile coming to his face when he got to order a pupachino for the little dog that already owned all the pieces of his malfunctioned heart. Zero climbed up onto his shoulder while they waited in line, so Tony flipped the camera on his phone and took a picture of the two of them. Fumbling around the cupholder he put Peter’s card in, Tony sent the picture in a text – the happiness he felt needed to be shared.

Tony Stark: Look how cute we are. Thanks for hooking us up.

He got a few sips of his coffee in before his phone went off, the number he already typed in as Peter Parker lighting up his screen. Tony shook his head at the giddy feeling spreading through his chest, an old man like him shouldn’t feel as on edge about a cute guy texting him as he did in that moment.

Peter Parker: You two are quite the pair. Peter Parker: It was my pleasure! Glad to have made such a sweet connection.

The soft grin he already associated with Peter stayed on his lips the rest of his drive into the office and even further into the day as the two of them continued to text back and forth. Tony didn’t get much work done – between trying to be as charming as possible in his texts to Peter and loving the fuck out of Zero, there wasn’t much room for anything else.

Predictably, the rest of the week followed suit. Tony couldn’t get enough of the white fur-ball that got more and more comfortable with him as the days passed. Zero stayed by his feet while he was in the lab and followed him around the penthouse when Tony was finished for the night. The mutual appreciation of walks had them wandering around the little neighborhoods Tony never took the time to explore before.

By the time Friday rolled around, Tony was excited to show off his and Zero’s bond – a big part of him thought that Peter would be the most impressed by something like that. In their conversations throughout the week, Tony learned that Peter trained dogs professionally after studying behavior in college. He answered any of Tony’s questions and appreciated all the little anecdotes Tony shared about the short time he’d been enjoying the heck out of Zero.

Walking into the room he was directed to, Tony lit up when Peter noticed him. In a couple of long strides, Peter was right in front of him, his hand already reaching down to press against Zero’s head. “Hey you two! You guys are in luck – it’s a small class, so you’ll get lots of hands on stuff tonight,” Peter caught his eye as he spoke, the smirk on the younger man’s lips making Tony’s throat suddenly very dry.

He nodded his head listlessly, his hand tightening on Zero’s lead. The crush on Peter that he’d been fostering for the past few days doubled in size throughout the next hour. There was one other dog owner and their pup – another puppy adopted from the rescue. Not only was Peter attentive, he knew his shit and didn’t mind explaining things as he went. As someone that put information above almost everything else, Tony liked all things about that.

Zero seemed to like it, too – he showered Peter with affection when he stood talking to Tony at the end of the class. He nosed at Tony’s hand, then pressed against Peter’s leg and licked at his ankles. Tony couldn’t help but grin down at him – the antics already too much.

“I found a local brewery that has a patio that allows dogs – any interest in catching a drink with us?” Tony asked – the conversation had got to the point where they were just staring longingly at each other. It seemed like the perfect time to put himself out there. The grip on Zero’s lead tightened for just a second; he didn’t think he read their interactions wrong, but after so much time away from the dating game, he could never be too sure.

Peter reached out and laid a hand on his arm, the touch the slightest bit reassuring, “I would like that very much. I hope you’re talking about Landry’s – they have the best cheese curds.” He turned his body and started to gather his stuff up like he’d merely been waiting for Tony to buck up the courage to invite him out before getting his shit together. Maybe he was – the idea of that honestly not the worst thing. At least then, he was joined in the intensity of his feelings.

They split up for the few minutes it took them to drive their separate cars to the brewery and met back up at one of the picnic tables closest to the open grass space right next to the building. There were a couple of other dogs milling around the grass – Zero looked over at them curiously, but remained by Tony’s side, his body resting on his feet after a while.

Their view of the sunset was fantastic – they shared a couple orders of cheese curds and truffle fries; Tony liked the way Peter closed his eyes around the bites that were extra indulgent – the redness of his cheeks absolutely divine. The amount of times being caught looking at him probably should have been embarrassing. Yet, Peter simply smiled back and moved his hand a little closer to Tony’s on the table.

It took most of the night for their fingers to finally tangle together – Tony wanted to be sure and enjoyed the build-up to it once he was. Peter’s hands were just as soft as Tony imagined them – his long fingers fit perfectly between his own. They shared a shy smile and sat together until the sky started to rumble a little while later.

Big raindrops suddenly falling on them made the decision to pay the bill and huddle for warmth in Tony’s car easy – Peter climbed into the passenger seat without any restraint. It was obvious that neither man was ready for the night to end. 

In hopes of a few seconds to think his next move through, Tony started the car and made sure the vents were open so the car didn’t get too hot. He was startled by a cool hand on his own, Peter’s fingers around his wrist pulling his attention back to where they both wanted it to be.

“I had a really good time tonight,” Peter admitted, his body shifting in the seat. The Audi didn’t have too much space in it, so they were already close. The move of Peter’s shoulders brought them within breath sharing distance. “I like spending time with you.”

Tony didn’t bother trying to find the words to respond appropriately. Without any hesitation, he closed the space between them and pressed their lips together. His hands wandered to the front of Peter’s shirt; the fabric there warm from the heat of his body. A soft moan left Peter’s lips, the sound so encouraging – Peter’s response to it all exactly what Tony was hoping for.

Tilting his head, Tony was about to deepen the kiss when he felt a wet tongue on his cheek. Since his was currently tangled with Peter’s, it could only belong to none other than Zero. He pulled away with a sudden laugh – the excellence of the situation hitting him when Peter beamed at him.

“Better get used to him, Zero. I don’t think he’s going anywhere,” Tony murmured, one of his hands running softly over the puppy’s head.

Peter pulled Tony and Zero towards him, the group hug the sweetest thing Tony figured he’d ever been a part of. The press of lips against his forehead had Tony sighing, his body light for the first time in decades.

The start of something new felt pretty damn good.  

#starker #ironspider #puppypeter #bobbie writes #au prompt #struck from a great height

[btsareyandere]

The beating

(It isnt what you think 🤭)

Also, its 2am, please forgive any mistakes 🥰

Taehyung

The cold wind finding its way under the curtains makes you shiver and pull the blankets tighter around your weary form.

Youve woken early once again, something is disturbing you and you're unsure what it is you need.

Perhaps it is simple, maybe you can't sleep because sleep requires inner peace and that is missing from your soul.

The foul weather outside somehow encourages a reflective and somewhat comtemplative mood to wash over you as you lay there alone with your thoughts.

You realise that these days you've been struggling to maintain your tough outer shell and are begining to crumble in the way taehyung wants you to.

With your eyes staring pointlessly into the pitch blackness that surrounds you, broken images and wild, random colours dance on what you know to be the ceiling and bring some brightness to your world; a world so devoid of happiness.

And you breathe, you simply breathe. Taking in air to fill your lungs to capicity before letting it leave you once more, and basking in the blissfull feeling it provides you.

Out of nowhere, a single tear traces down your cheek, into your earlobe and finally onto the pillow before you wipe hastily at the trail it left behind and wonder where it came from.

"The fuck" you whisper to yourself.

Then you realise, you feel so utterly alone; it's a feeling of lonliness unlike anything you've felt since becoming taehyungs; its intensity is almost crushing.

You sniffle once and hesitantly reach out a hand just hoping to brush against his body and know that despite how you feel, you're not actually a tiny human left all alone in this world.

But nothing....he isnt there. You are alone!

That air that was so peacefully sustaining you just moments prior, is now trapped and burning, burning so wildly that it spreads up to your throat and down to your stomach.

Where is he?

"Tae" you cry out, resembling a kitten abandoned by its mother.

Nothing, only silence answers you.

Desperate for affection, attention, human contact or reassurance, you climb out of bed with the sole intention of finding him.

Your hesitant feet patter along the hardwood hallway and straight to his office, where you invision bursting in to find him at his desk, where like from a movie, he will jump to his feet and gather you into his arms dramatically.

But you know better, you know to knock and wait and so you do. You do your typical knock and eagerly await his deep voice to call you to him like a siren would a sailor in the vastness of the ocean.

However, as is the theme tonight, nothing comes. His voice doesnt carry in the darkness and it only reaffirms just how lonely you feel.

"Tae...please" comes another cry, the desperation within it scaring you.

You slide down the door frame and wrap yourself in your own grasp, trying anything to feel a level of comfort you haven't felt since childhood when you rested your weary body against your mums chest and drifted into sleep with her heartbeat thudding rhythmically in your ear.

Time passes and the sobs have come thick and fast, those soul clearing cries that leave you ready to pass out and wake in the morning to a puffy face, when your ears tingle with the sound of a voice.

"Baby"

Its so low and breathtaking, your skin prickles with the static filling the vast expanse of the hallway.

"Baby" it comes again, this time loud enough for you to look up.

There he is, standing under a wall lamp that so effortlessly casts a golden glow onto his perfect features.

You run your eyes up and down his body and see he stands before you in the night clothes he dressed in last night; he didnt leave you.

"What are you doing?" He asks softly.

"Tae..i-i" you stop to clear your throat of the lump thats forming, unsuccessfully.

"Tae i woke and you werent there. The wind was blowing and ive never felt so cold and alone".

Your face is a waterfull and his is a picture, his smile beaming from ear to ear at your words.

"I was getting something to drink and got distracted by the TV, baby. Id never leave. Come here"

He soothes you over and over as he carries you back to bed.

"I want you by my side more than i want anything in this world y/n. I would lose everything before i loose you and i would abandon even hope of you loving me back, before i abandoned you".

Your breath shakes at his words as you settle into the the egyptian cotton sheets and press againt his silk clothed body as hard as you can.

Safely under blanket and wrapped in his arms, his mere presence halts the ill breeze that previously chilled your bones, somehow, this man who is so wrong for you, is making everything right.

The silence returns but is chased away when you pick up on the beating of his heart, a melody you hadnt realised you knew the tune to.

Without conscious effort, your mind follows the beating, the ebbing and flowing of his blood as is courses through his body.

And in that darkness, with his hand gliding through each strand of you hair, you surrendered to the night safe in the knowledge that he will never abandon you. Whether you want it or not, you will never be alone. You will always know the beating.

#bts imagines #bts taehyung #bts scenarios #bts #bts fanfic #bts fluff #btsv #king taehyung #bts kim taehyung #kim taehyung #taehyung #bts yandere taehyung #yandere bts #bts yandere

[cordytriestowrite]

Catnapped!

Loki x Reader

One Shot

Summary: "CAT. YOU HAVE MY CAT."

Arms laden with groceries Loki barely spared a glance at his surroundings. After all, this was his yard, his house, his front door that he was currently struggling to unlock. Nothing should have changed since he ventured out to the store a little over an hour ago. 

Except something had changed. A quick glance up as he turned the knob and he found himself face to flat, printed face of someone very familiar. Black fur, wide green eyes, and a small notch in the right ear. Yes, that image was very familiar.

That was his cat.

The flyer labeled her as lost and that wasn't entirely incorrect. He hadn't seen her in about a week, but she always came back as if her absence had only a blip of her little cat life. Loki never worried.

Until now.

A flyer meant someone had taken her in and he would have to call the number below her picture to collect her. He would probably be reprimanded for not putting a collar on his pet. They might even heavily imply a right to a reward! Loki's arms burned, reminding him of his current task. He waited until after he had put away his groceries and fixed himself some dinner before plucking the flyer off his door and dialing the number.

The woman Loki spoke to on the phone was beyond frustrating. After five rings the call finally connected.

"Hello?"

He heard nothing and almost hung up, but a small croak kept the phone to his ear.

"Hello? Who is calling so late?"

Loki glanced at the stove clock. It was only seven eighteen. Still, he plastered on a wide smile and upped the charm.

"Apologies madam. My name is Loki and I believe you have my cat."

"Your hat? I'm sorry Lovely I don't have your hat."

The smile fell as irritation ignited within his full stomach. If she had left his cat damn well alone like everyone else in the neighborhood he wouldn't be having this needless conversation.

"CAT. YOU HAVE MY CAT."

It took far too long for Loki's liking but he finally wrangled two things out of the old woman. First, that she did in fact have his cat and second, the address at which his cat was currently being held. He was shouting into his receiver that he would be there to collect her in ten minutes and frankly he didn't care if she properly heard him or not. 

Fifteen houses down toward the cul-de-sac meant Loki had about three minutes to fume and seven minutes affix his air of casual charm. By the time he reached the small garden gate of the property he was practically indifferent to his circumstances. In and out and he would have his cat again. Simple enough.

The yard was surprisingly well-kept though the sheer amount of flamingos scattered about made Loki cringe. What was it about old women and plastic flamingos? 

Would it be too cruel to call the homeowners association on her? Loki decided he would hold off on making any final verdict after he had his animal safely back with him. The last thing he wanted was to start a war with another neighbor and this one was bound to be less fun than his feud with that frat boy Stark. 

He considered his usual knock, a soft but sure three raps of his knuckles, but based on his prior experience with the hard of hearing woman he gave into the satisfying base instinct to pound his fist against the door with enough force to make the glass within it rattle. It was a little less gratifying the second time around. He was about to give up, already halfway turned to walk away, when he heard the door open.

"Sorry, sorry, I was upstairs."

The voice was decidedly not one of an elderly woman. Loki turned, taking you in, making you shift as his gaze traveled from head to toe and back again. With a clearing of his throat Loki remembered himself and his polite grin came to his face a little easier.

"That's quite alright. I called earlier about my missing cat?"

You smirked and crossed your arms, leaning a shoulder against the doorframe. It was your turn to run your gaze up and down his long body and if your lip got caught between your teeth, well you just couldn't help it.

"So you're Lovely huh? Odd name."

"It's Loki, actually."

"Even stranger."

Unlike most comments on his name this one did not make him bristle in defense. He quite liked the look in your eye and the way your face openly displayed the pleasure had within the conversation and with the company kept. It was never this easy when meeting new people or even with people he knew well for that matter.

"Well, you might as well come in. Midnight is around here somewhere and it'll take me a minute to find her."

You turned and walked further into your grandmother's house, leaving the door open for Loki to follow. Your eyes sweeped the living room quickly, looking for an unfamiliar mass of deep black fur.

"Midnight?"

Loki had closed the door behind him but not ventured further than the foyer. He took in the tacky decor of your grandmother's living room, a curl to his upper lip intensified with each furtive glance along the walls. Your grandmother really did love flamingos and it showed from the frame photographs to the flamingo printed pillows. 

"Well she didn't have a collar so how was I supposed to know what to call her." you said, pushing aside a basket of yarn and getting on your hands and knees to feel for her under the couch.

"Her name is Lokitty. Not that she answers to it."

Your head shot up and turned around to show your guest your incredulous expression, though it took a very long second for his eyes to move from your upturned ass to your face.

"So your name is Loki and hers is Lokitty?"

He had the sense to at least look self-conscious, a slight drop in eye contact and a hint of color in his high cheekbones.

"The Parker kid named her."

"Peter Parker? Who is in Ms. Potts' second grade class and knows all of Jupiter's moons and would I like to hear them? I get it now. Hard to say no to him."

An odd sensation of relief warmed in Loki's stomach while a teasing tingle sent some heat down just below watching you move across the floor on your hands and knees to check under something else. He silently hoped Lokitty was well hidden.

Eventually you came up from the floor empty handed, but there were still plenty of rooms to check. You gestured for Loki to follow you further into the house, popping your head into the kitchen you didn't spot the black cat on top of the sickly pink cabinets or counters. 

"I wasn't aware they made counters in that color." Loki commented, his head popping in just over yours. You could feel the edges of his jacket brush against your back and since he couldn't get a good look at your face you allowed yourself to feel a giddy fever rise from your stomach to your face. 

"I think she special ordered it in the seventies. It's looked like this for as long as I can remember."

You moved beyond the kitchen into the dining room, Loki following without prompt this time. 

"Do you live here too?"

You shook your head before turning your attention to the other presence in the dining room, the topic of your conversation.

"Hi grandma!"

Your voice was loud and a little overzealous, but your grandmother lifted her head and offered you a wide, toothless smile. Loki had thought she was asleep before and was even further astounded that the woman was not only conscious but simply sitting at the table with nothing in front of her. 

"Grandma this is Loki. He's here for his cat."

You spoke each word loud and clear, watching your grandma smack her lips together and squint in Loki's direction.

"Tell Lovely I don't have his hat."

Loki opened his mouth, ready to set the old bat straight once again, but the hand on his arm stopped him. You guided Loki back down the hall and up the stairs.

"She can't hear for shit. Better to just nod and smile. Anyway, Midnight is probably up here."

"Lokitty." Loki corrected, winking when you turned to look at him and you let him catch your eye roll.

The wall decor was just as garish upstairs as down, if not moreso, but one room was literally a sight for Loki's sore eyes. 

"Could she be in there?" Loki asked coolly, already moving as he's drawn in toward the dark blue walls.

"A woman's bedroom is private you know." 

Your joking tone made Loki feel emboldened enough to walk confidently inside.

It was like a breath of fresh air, literally since the room was perfumed by a lit scented candle to mask the stale scent flowing through the rest of the house, but along with the dark walls were bits of modern furniture and technology. It was like someone took this room from an entirely different house and put it in this one. 

"The first thing I did was paint the walls. I couldn't sleep. It's like the pink permeated my eyelids." You were already on your hands and knees searching in the space between your desk and dresser. Loki practically felt his way to your bed, not wanting to miss the way you moved this way and that, so cat-like yourself. 

"Staying long then?" Loki heard himself stay.

"My family is concerned about her, but not enough to come check themselves. They want me to decide if we should put her in a home. I'm dragging my feet on making that decision."

Loki nodded, hand running absently along the soft spine of the purring form nestled onto his lap. He had just been then a few years ago, making the choice to put his father in a home while his brother was unreachable on an expedition halfway across the world. He often wondered if he made the right call. 

When he didn't respond you pushed back onto your knees and went to meet his eye, but before your gaze could travel that far up it landed on the creature occupying his lap.

"Midnight! You found her!"

Loki blinked, his brain finally registering what his hand had been stroking the last few minutes. Lokitty purred deeply when he gave her a scratch behind the ears. 

"That I did, but you found her first."

You came to sit next to him on your bed, hand reaching out to give the lounging feline some attention which she gobbled up greedily.

"I can't take any credit for that. My grandmother was the one who left the back door open and her tuna fish sandwich on the table."

His deep chuckle was just as attractive as the rest of him, and you opted out of any mention of departure while you sat in comfortable silence only disrupted by a low purr. It was nice just sitting around with someone who wasn't family.

"Do I owe you anything?"

Brows furrowed Loki glared solemnly down into the big, green eyes of his four-legged companion. His brain had practically stalled out watching your hand move along Lokitty, stroking in long languid swoops that made his body feel too warm. The question had spilled out, a knee-jerk reaction, and now he was internally cursing himself for such a stupid outburst.

You pulled your hands back to yourself, bringing one to tap your chin as you playfully thought about his question.

"Dinner?"

"Y-yes, of course." Loki managed to say as he forced all his energy into withholding a wide smile.

You turned on the bed toward him, hand reaching for his over Lokitty's soft, sleeping form.

"Great. My grandma hasn't had a date in ages!"

You laughed so hard at Loki's stunned expression Lokitty startled awake and all but lunged off his lap before returning to the signature feline slink as she exited the room. 

"You can just keep the cat." Loki joked, making to stand up and leave the room. You stiffled your laughter into effusive giggles, tugging on your still joined hands to keep him from getting too far.

"Okay, okay. You get your cat and I get dinner with you. Sound good?"

Loki released your hand and for a second your heart stuttered with disappointing rejection, but that hand reached up and held your chin tenderly, forcing you to look into the depths of his blue eyes and surrender the air from your lungs as nerves filled the deflated organs. 

"Sounds perfect." He said, low and deep while looking unabashedly down to your lips. They didn't stay there long as he met your gaze again with bright eyes and an even brighter smile.

"Mrow?"

You both turned to find Lokitty half in the room, staring wide-eyed and curiously between you. Loki's hand dropped from your chin and this time you let him get up. He crossed the room and scooped up a now protesting Lokitty, locking her limbs into the crook of his elbow so she wouldn't slither away. You squeezed past the pair to lead Loki back out, wondering if a cat scratch to the chest was worth trying to get the kiss you had hoped was coming before the interruption. Halfway down the stairs you ran into your grandmother, her shaky hand gripping the railing for support. She looked up as the two of you got closer.

"Oh Lovely is that your pussycat? I had my granddaughter here make some flyers."

You ease yourself and Loki past her to the door, but Loki's mood could not be deterred by your grandmother's words.

"Yes madam, thank you. Have a good evening." He said in his normal tone, minus the usually dishonest lilt of interest. You watched her continue up the stairs one foot at a time, a flicker of worry kept your eyes on her rather than the handsome man before you.

"You'll make the right decision." Loki assured you through a mouthful of cat fur. Lokitty did not have a penchant for being held and her patience was wearing thin.

Your lips quirked upward half-heartedly as your grandmother finally disappeared into her room. Ignoring Loki's eye you opened the door and stepped aside to let him through. The bright light in Loki faded slightly as the heaviness of age overshadowed the excitement of young romance and while he wanted to ignore one in favor of the other he knew he couldn't and neither could you.

"So, tomorrow? Let's say seven?"

You had finally found your voice as Loki was halfway between the door and the gate. He turned around and you mimicked your stance when you first laid eyes on him, arms crossed leaning against the doorframe, your lip once again caught between your teeth to hide your teasing grin.

"Tomorrow at seven." He agreed with a nod.

And it was just enough of a distraction for Lokitty to throw him off balance. Falling and landing gracefully she took off in a full sprint, squeezing between the gaps in the fence and down the street.

"Oh my god!" You exclaimed, abandoning your post and hurrying across the property to chase after her. Loki managed to catch your arm before you got to the gate.

"Let her go. She'll find her way home. Always does."

She was out of sight, it would be a lost cause to follow a black cat out into the night. You looked to Loki, feeding off his certainty. He was so open, so expressive, and yet there was still so much to learn of him, and you wanted to start filling in the blanks right now.

"Well since you don't have to bring your cat home why don't we move tomorrow's dinner up to right now?"

"I already ate dinner." Loki admitted giving you a slight frown.

"Me too." You confessed and the heavy implications tied to the divulgence didn't go unnoticed on either side. 

"Cool."

"Cool."

"I'm going to just lock up."

"I'll be here."

"I can't be gone long. My grandma-"

"I understand."

And you could tell he really did understand. And you could tell he had been waiting for the kiss as much as you had, gripping your waist tightly as you pulled his head down to meet yours. 

Later when Loki was unlocking his front door, he felt a slide of pressure against his shins, twisting in and out of the space between them.

"I guess I should be thanking you." He chuckled, staring fondly down at the mass of black fur and two emerald green eyes. She lifted up onto her back paws, stretching long and languid and digging her claws into his skin, making him flinch.

"Or maybe it would just go to your head." He muttered, ushering her inside.

First thing tomorrow morning he was ordering her a collar.

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#loki #loki x oc #loki of asgard #loki fanfiction #loki odinson #loki (marvel) #loki x reader #loki x y/n #loki x you #loki au #loki fluff #marvel fanfiction #marvel fic #loki one shot #loki oneshot #loki fic #marvel au

[cpd5021]

The Thing That Works...

Hailey and Jay take on a case that affects them both, bringing up things from their past. This will be a two-shot (probably). Let me know what you think!

       Jay sighed down at his phone when, for the second time, his call to Hailey went unanswered. It wasn’t like her to not pick up, especially a call from him, but then again it was supposed to be their day off. The team had spent the last two weeks working a grueling case so Voight had shown them mercy and given the two detectives the day off. It all sounded good in theory until Kevin and Vanessa had caught a case, resulting in the whole unit being called in. Vanessa had called him, apologizing when his gruffly voice told her she had woke him, and gave him a quick rundown of the case. She mentioned texting Hailey, but that she hadn’t gotten a reply yet and Jay told her not to worry, that he would get a hold of her. That was twenty minutes ago and now Jay sat in his truck, parked outside of her condo, staring at a blank screen. Maybe she was still asleep. He sighed again and shut his truck off, jumping out and making his way to her door. A mix of confusion and entertainment crossed his face when, as he approached her front door, he could hear music blaring inside. He chuckled to himself, not really pegging Hailey as a 90′s classic kind of gal. Jay knocked and when he realized she’d never hear him over the music, he hesitantly rang the doorbell. He listened as the music was turned down and could see movement behind the frosted window of her door. Suddenly, she was in front of him. A range of emotions flashed across her face, going from surprise, to a huge smile, and then what looked like mild embarrassment. Jay inhaled sharply as he took in the sight of his partner before him. Before he could stop himself, his eyes traveled down her body, which was glistening with sweat. He hadn’t really seen her in anything other than her usual jeans and a T-shirt or sweater, unless you count that one time she was quarantined in a hospital gown. But her currant attire had her body on full display. His eyes quickly roamed from her chest, covered in nothing but a tight black sports bra, down her sculpted abs and to her toned legs showing out of her small athletic shorts. His eyes met hers finally, his eyebrows raised in appreciation, his lower lip clenched between his teeth. He swallowed hard as he felt his face burn bright red, realizing that not only had he just totally checked his partner out but that he had done so in such an obvious way that there was no way he could back track it. He gave her a sheepish grin as he took in her face, a pink blush spreading across her cheeks that he hoped was from whatever she had been doing and not his blatant staring.

“Did we catch a case?” Hailey asked finally, clearing her throat to get his attention. 

“Huh? Uh, yea...unfortunately.” He tried to play it cool but his voice came out huskier than he intended. 

“Okay...” She trailed off slowly. “I’ll be ready in just a minute, I just need to grab a quick shower after working out.” She hesitated in the doorway for a moment before stepping aside and motioning for him to come in. Jay ducked his head down sheepishly as he entered her home, suddenly the air around him felt thick and he was struggling to focus with the new tension between them. “You can hang on the couch..or in the kitchen...I’ll be right back.” Hailey stammered the words out before turning to dart up the stairs. He risked a glance at her retreating figure and the sight of her toned behind did nothing to help his case. With another sigh, he rubbed his face and walked towards her kitchen. He sat down on her bar stool, taking in the space around him. He had been here many times before, but this was the first time he really took it in, trying to distract himself from the other thoughts floating around his head. The room was neat and tidy, save for a few empty beer bottles perched by her sink. The decor was light and simple, a contrast to her as a person, anything but simple. He jumped slightly when he heard her jogging back down the stairs and joining him in the kitchen. Now she stood before him, wearing her usual jeans and a cream colored sweater, her wet hair draping around her face and he found himself swallowing hard again. If she noticed his look this time, she chose to ignore it, instead walked around him to head towards her coffee maker on the counter. 

“Want a cup?” She asked, back turned to him as she pulled a travel mug out of the cupboard. He found himself lost for words as the smell of her shampoo assaulted his nose when she had walked by. He always knew she smelled good, but that was the first time he had caught a whiff fresh out of the shower. He shook his head briefly as his mind started to wander again. Blinking a few times he realized she had turned to face him, waiting for an answer. 

“Hmm, uh...yea...sure...please.” He stammered out his words, giving her a sheepish grin. Get a grip Halstead, he thought to himself. 

     Somehow, he managed to make it through the last few minutes and they were finally in his truck. He filled her in on the little he knew of their case as they drove to the precinct and found himself happy for the distraction. He couldn’t get the smell of her shampoo out of his mind, so it was either new or he just hadn’t been paying attention previously. Either way, it was his new favorite scent. They joined the others in the bullpen, Hailey giving Vanessa a quick smile as they were the last ones to arrive, Jay watched as the two exchanged an odd look, almost like a silent conversation between the two women, but his attention was quickly pulled away by Kevin starting to go over the case. 

“Alright so, V and I were called in by patrol this morning. They were sent to a house for possible shots fired. When they made entry, they found mom and two kids shot dead. There’s a third kid, the youngest, who is in surgery at Med right now but it doesn’t look good. The husband/father is in the wind.” Kevin finished, pointing to a photo on the board showing a man in his thirties, dark hair cut close to his scalp and a scar on his left cheek. 

“With all due respect, this sounds like a case for Homicide. Why’d we take it?” Hailey asked, taking a sip of her coffee. 

“Because,” Voights gravelly voice came from his spot in his office doorway. “They were shot with a military grade assault rifle and the husband was dishonorably discharged six months ago.”

“Neighbors told patrol the couple was always fighting and he has PTSD from his time in.” Adam piped up from his desk where he was going through the traffic cameras from that area. Jay clenched his jaw then, fighting back his own military memories and his struggle with PTSD. He noticed Voight eyeing him from across the room, but diverted his eyes to find Hailey’s. Not surprisingly, she took was assessing the shift in his mood, knowing almost the full extent of what he had gone through. 

“So right now, husband is our number one suspect. And we have no idea where he is.” Kim said, filling the sudden awkward silence. 

“We’ll head to Med, see if we can get an update on the boy. Keep us posted.” Hailey stood from her desk and headed down the stairs, Jay close behind. Once settled in his truck, she turned to face him, her eyes trying to meet his while he actively tried to ignore her. 

“Jay? You good?” Hailey pushed and he knew he wouldn’t be able to get away from this. 

“Yea, I’m okay Hailey.” Jay started the truck and sped them out of the lot. 

“You’re lying.” It wasn’t a question, but a firm statement. 

“No, I....look a few years ago this case would have really got to me. And it definitely crossed my mind up there. But I’m good, promise.” Jay turned to give her a reassuring smile and he could tell it calmed her nerves. He wasn’t lying either and was finding himself all the more grateful that she had pushed him into therapy all those years ago. 

   At the hospital, they met with Will, who also eyed Jay at the mention of the ex-military husband. He told them the boy was out of surgery but that he was still in critical condition and it wasn’t looking promising. It would be a few hours before they would be able to talk to him, if he even woke up. Next, they decided to head back to the house and see if they could dig up anything that had been missed earlier. As they entered the home, patrol still perched outside, they slowly walked around the living room. Hailey picked up a picture frame, showcasing the supposedly happy family. Mom, dad, two sons and a daughter. Hailey couldn’t help but see her own family in the picture and wondered what was really going on behind their closed doors. 

“Hey check this out.” Jay’s voice drew her back to the present, she set the frame down before making her way over to him. He pointed at the wall which appeared to have been recently patched, one spots paint not matching the surrounding area. “What do you think happened here?”

“Someone punched a wall.” Hailey shrugged, trying to shake off childhood memories.

“Yea?” Jay asked, puzzled by her confident answer. 

“Perfect circle, this was a fist meeting drywall.” Hailey’s eyes were dark and he could tell she was somewhere far away. He debated questioning her on it, but decided it would be better to let it go for now. They searched the rest of the house but it came up clean, nothing indicating what might have caused the husband to attack or leave the family as a target for an outside attack. They walked back to the truck, feet dragging slightly at their empty-handedness from the house, when Jay’s phone rang. 

“Hey Will, what’s up?” He shot Hailey a look and picked up his pace towards the truck. She got the hint and jogged right behind him. “Okay, we’ll be right there.” Jay hung up the phone as he climbed into the drivers seat. 

    Once at Med, the duo quickly made their way to the nurses station, meeting Will for another update. He informed them that the boy, Jackson, was awake but still pretty out of it. He warned them not to push the boy and that they needed to be quick, they both gave Will an understanding nod before heading towards the room. Hailey swallowed hard at the sight of the small body laying in the hospital bed, tubes coming from every direction and beeping machines all around. Her eyes met his and she could see the terror within. Hailey walked over to the bedside, pulling up the chair and giving the boy a warm smile. Jay leaned back against the counter and let her take point. 

“Hey Jackson, my name is Hailey and this in my partner Jay.” She nodded in Jay’s direction and he gave the boy a small smile. “Do you mind if we ask you some questions?” 

“Who are you?” His impossibly small voice asked, glancing between the two.

“We’re police officers and we just want to talk to you about what happened.” Hailey was trying to tread carefully and not upset the boy. She knew from his file that he was only seven so she wanted to keep this conversation as light as possible.  

“Mommy’s dead.” His stated, brow furrowing. His blunt statement threw Hailey for a loop and she fought to quickly recover. 

“Yes.” She nodded, somewhat unsure of whether that was a question or not. 

“And my brother and sister.” The boy’s face remained eerily calm while he talked. 

“Yes.” Hailey nodded again, wanting to see where he would go with this. 

“Daddy’s gone. He was angry.” Jackson met her eyes then and in them she saw herself, as a child, uttering the same words. Daddy’s angry. She felt her eyes burn and blinked quickly to fight back the tears threatening to form. Jay picked up on her shift in mood but remained behind her, letting this play out. 

“Why was he angry?” Hailey asked softly, hating how thick her voice sounded right now. 

“He’s always angry.” Jackson shrugged, sending another wave of emotion through Hailey. 

“Do you know what happened to your mommy and your brother and sister?” Hailey pressed gently. 

“Daddy was angry.” His eyes gazed into the distance and Hailey could tell he was shutting down, still she tried to gather some more information. 

“Did your daddy hurt them, today?” Her words were a whisper. 

“Yes.” Jackson still looked away from her, his face emotionless. 

“How?” She wanted to ask for details, to ask if he had shot them, but she knew she couldn’t lead his answers and needed to get him to say it on his own. 

“With his gun. And then he left. He was angry.” The boy shrugged again, as if this conversation was the simplest thing in the world and she wasn’t setting here discussing a triple homicide with a seven year old. She swallowed hard again, throat tight with emotion. She had gotten what she needed from him and now they knew the father was their main suspect, which they had figured all along. 

“Okay Jackson, we’re going to let you get some sleep now. I’ll come back to visit you if you want.” Hailey stood then, glancing at Jay before giving the boy a warm smile. She turned and they started to make their way out of the room when his small voice sounded out once again. 

“Are you going to kill my daddy?” His question froze both of them in their tracks, neither sure how to answer him. Before either could verbalize a response, Jackson continued. “Because you can, he’s a bad man.” Hailey choked back tears and forced a smile on her face before turning to look at him. She wanted to say something to him, to say she knew how he felt, to explain that she had wished someone would hurt her father too and take away her pain. But this wasn’t the time or place for that, so instead she gave him a nod and left the room, Jay hot on her heals. Hailey didn’t stop her brisk walk until they were back at the truck. They climbed in, Jay’s eyes never leaving her face and he assessed where she was at mentally right now. He knew bits and pieces of her past and realized that this case would certainly be bringing some of those memories back to the forefront for her. He was trying to decide how to proceed when she beat him to it. 

“I’m fine Jay.” Her words were cool, lacking emotion. He could tell she didn’t want to go there right now and he respected that, hoping they could talk it out later. 

“Okay, we’ll head back and see what everyone else has.” He started the truck up and they headed towards the 21st. 

   Back at the precinct, the mood was somber while everyone sat around feeling somewhat defeated at their lack of leads on this case. Jay had gone over what Jackson had confessed, Adam had given some information on where the father might be hiding, but so far all the options had turned up dry. Kevin and Vanessa were still scouring over traffic camera’s when suddenly she stood from her desk, sending her chair flying backwards. 

“I got him!” She exclaimed, pointing excitedly towards her screen. They gathered around her quickly, Voight radioed for patrol to follow him and they scrambled to get geared up and into their vehicles. Luckily, their suspect had decided to spot for something to eat and was still parked outside the small diner just outside the city when they arrived. The team had convened a few blocks away so they could set up the plan, Voight barking out orders and everyone hurrying to get in place. They would wait for him to come out of the diner, not wanting to start something inside with potential victims. Vanessa was sent to walk down the street, acting the part of a regular pedestrian so she could get a peak inside. She radioed that he was about to leave and continued walking around the corner so he wouldn’t be suspicious of her. They watched as he walked out, quickly closing their ranks to surround him, but his military training kicked in and he saw them coming. The man spun around quickly, taking in their approach from all angles as each member marched closer, guns drawn. Jay took the lead, hoping he’d be able to connect with him due to their similar history. 

“Hey man, put your hands up. We’re not here to hurt you. We just want to help.” Jay’s voice was loud but had a calm tone to it as he stepped forward. 

“That’s what they all say!” The man bellowed, his head twisting frantically as they continued to close in. 

“You’re ex-military right? Me too.” Jay stretched both his arms up, gun still in hand but now pointing skyward. “We can talk this through, I can help you.”

“Help me?” The man laughed frantically. “You don’t know what I’ve done.” His voice broke then, his first real show of emotion. 

“Yes, I do.” Jay remained calm and collected despite the heated situation. 

“They’re gone! All of them! Because of me!” He yelled out, face reddened and eyes watering. 

“Not all of them. Jackson is alive, he’s at Med. I can take you there.” The lie fell from Jay’s lips effortlessly. He had no intention of taking this man anywhere near his son but if it would help diffuse the situation he would use it. At Jay’s words though, the man spun to face him, suddenly drawing his own gun and aiming it towards Jay. 

“Don’t lie to me!” He bellowed, taking a step towards Jay. Jay knew what he should do, the man could shoot him at any second and he needed to take him out. But he hesitated, thinking of his own PTSD and the time he had pointed a gun at Hailey, not recognizing her in the heat of the moment. He didn’t want to take him out like this, the guy definitely deserved to pay for what he had done but Jay had a hard time pulling the trigger on a fellow military Vet. 

“I’m not.” Jay stated, voice still calm. He could feel his team around him, all ready to take the shot and end this scenario. He was hoping it wouldn’t come to that, but he didn’t get the choice to continue talking him down as the man lurched forward towards Jay and in an instant, Jay leveled his gun and took the shot. He watched as the man dropped instantly and blood began to pool underneath him. Adam and Kevin ran over, kicking the gun out of his hand. He watched Kevin kneel down to check for a pulse but he didn’t need the confirmation. A shot to the center of his chest was fatal, almost instantly. Jay holstered his weapon and turned back to face Hailey, standing wide eyed and seemingly frozen in place behind him. He wasn’t sure what she was thinking or if she was even there with him right now, her face impossible to read. While the rest of his team got to work securing the scene, Jay made his way over to her. 

“Hailey?” His voice soft, not wanting to spook her. 

“He could have shot you.” Her voice trembled slightly and she blinked, bringing herself back into the moment. 

“But he didn’t.” Jay stepped closer, placing his hands on her shoulders. This wasn’t what they did, physical contact. It was somehting new. But in this moment he felt it’s what was needed, what she needed, to feel him and know that he was unharmed. They stood like that for a moment, her eyes searching his face, before they both seemed to realize their close proximity. Jay lifted his hands at the same time she took a step back, both giving the other a sheepish grin. 

“We should....go help them.” Hailey nodded towards their unit.

“Yea...” He agreed, rubbing his neck awkwardly. 

   They eventually cleared the scene, Jay spent over an hour talking to the IA officer who had come to investigate the shooting, but finally they were back at the precinct. Hailey was in front of her locker when Jay entered the locker room, she gave him a quick smile before finishing up what she was doing. 

“So much for a day off.” She joked lightheartedly but Jay knew better. He knew that this case had affected them both, in different ways, thanks to their respective past lives. He knew this would be a case where they ended up doing ‘their thing’ and he found himself thankful he had her to talk it through with. 

“So, my place or yours?” He asked, sitting to untie his work boots. She turned to give him a quizzical look. “Our thing that works, I definitely need it tonight and I’m pretty confident you do too.”

“Oh yeah?” She challenged his last statement with a raised eyebrow. 

“Yeah Hailey, I know enough now to know this got to you, at least a little bit.” She dipped her head then, unable to put up an argument because she knew he was right. 

“I’ll get the beer if you’ll get the pizza?” She asked, biting her lower lip playfully and scrunching her forehead up in excitement over the thought of her favorite pizza place. 

“Make it beer and tequila and we have a deal. I’ll even throw in some bread sticks.” He gave her a cheesy grin then, knowing she would be even more excited now. 

“Jay Halstead, you spoil me.” She smiled at him genuinely and then shut her locker door. She gave him another look, he still sat perched on the bench working on a knot in his laces. “Chop chop! I’m hungry!” She teased before walking out of the locker room. Despite his hellish day, Jay couldn’t help the smile plastered to his face as he walked out of the precinct, calling in their pizza order. 

#chicago pd #chicago pd fanfiction #halstead and upton #jay halstead #hailey upton #halstead #jay x hailey

[wlw-lovestruck-fiction]

Vivienne looking at MC’s childhood photos for the first time and sharing a few of her own childhood memories with her. Fluff. Either HC or fic. 👧🏽❤️👧🏻

MC’s bedroom was simple and plain; the walls were cream white, and the door brown. It wasn’t as personalised as how you’d expect someone’s room to be, not pink and red like Vivienne’s room, or blue and gold like Nikolai’s, it was average, but it was home.

It wasn’t huge, but big enough to put everything MC wanted in there. A king single bed sat at the corner of the room, it’s bedhead surrounded by too many plushies. There was a desk beside it with a swivel chair that was stolen from her dad’s workplace. It looked incredibly out of place compared to the rest of the room, but then again, kids didn’t care whether a room fit an aesthetic, and older MC certainly didn’t bother enough to change anything. The chair was comfy and big, and that was all MC needed. Books and pieces of paper lined the walls in a built in shelf opposite the bed, and if you looked closely you could see some of MC’s primary school artworks peeking out in between books.

On another wall there was a mounted shelf with trophies and picture frames neatly decorating it. There were certificates, pictures of MC and her family, artworks and a few prize ribbons hanging from the shelf, weighted in place by other trophies.

“Welcome to mi castillo!” MC gestured to her room.

She let go of Vivienne’s hand so Vivienne could wander around, and rummaged through a box underneath her desk while Vivienne checked the room out.

The room was messy, but that only proved how much it was lived in. Everywhere you turned, it was as if you could watch MC growing up. From the plushies on the bedhead to the potted cactuses beside the window.

Vivienne looked at MC’s trophies, most of them were of colouring contests, and of course only first place trophies had a spot on the shelf. There were a few participation ribbons to sporting events, probably ones held by MC’s school that she was forced to join. There was a picture of young MC, smiling so bright you couldn’t even see her eyes, and in her hands were a certificate.

Vivienne smiled at the picture.

Who knew this simple a Cuban girl would grow up to be one of the world’s most renowned thieves?

“Vivienne!” MC called out. She was sitting on the floor with a box of full of stuff beside her, and lightly pat the space beside her for Vivienne to sit.

Vivienne sat, and MC scooted into Vivienne’s lap before pulling a photo album out from the box.

The album opened with a crisp sound, the plastic cases stuck together and some of the photos yellow.

“What’s this?” Vivienne asked.

“Me!” MC chirped and pointed to a picture.

MC looked like she was just starting primary school in the picture, her school uniform oversized and her long brunette hair tied in a braid. She smiled with both rows of teeth visible and stood beside her trolley backpack, ready to take on the world.

“I was so chubby!” MC shifted closer to Vivienne, giving her a better view of the picture. “And also, I was pretty sure I had the coolest backpack in school. Look, there were dinosaurs on them!”

MC shoved the album in Vivienne’s face. “Dinosaurs!”

Before Vivienne could react, MC had already flipped to another page. This time it looked like a class picture. MC’s caramel skin stood out compared to the other students, but she looked happy to be there.

MC pointed at a black haired girl who sat in the front row beside the teacher. “Her name’s Felicia. She used to be my best friend but after grade six we kinda drifted apart. I still talk to her sometimes, but ever since I, well, become a wanted thief, my social life hasn’t been thriving.”

MC went on about her friends in school, and what happened to them. She talked about one of her most tense colouring competitions, when her pencil lead went blunt and she didn’t have a sharpener. She talked about her school excursions and how her parents accompanied her on her first one because they were too worried. She talked about her friendship problems when she was young, and how she wanted to apologise to some of her friends for making the decisions she made. She talked about everything, and Vivienne listened. And she listened. And she listened. And she listened.

At this point, MC had already closed the photo album and was sitting sideways in Vivienne’s lap. She flailed her arms around, seemingly more indulged in her own story than Vivienne. Vivienne placed a chaste kiss on her shoulder, which caught MC’s attention.

“Baby?” MC asked, turning to look at Vivienne. And then she gasped. “How long have I been talking?”

“Not long enough, mon chéri.” Vivienne gave MC a quick peck on the cheek to reassure her.

MC turned and leaned in to give Vivienne a kiss. She placed a hand on Vivienne’s neck and stroked Vivienne’s cheek with her thumb, earning a soft sigh from Vivienne. Vivienne shifted MC closer towards her and hugged her by the waist, deepening their kiss.

MC pulled away before giving Vivienne another tiny kiss. “Thanks for listening. Also, this part of the story is crucial to my character development!”

Vivienne laughed.

And MC continued on with her story.

And Vivienne continued listening.

Vivienne couldn’t help but smile, not because she now knew more about MC, but because MC let her know more about her.

MC knew opening up was hard for Vivienne. Her past relationships failed all because Vivienne tried to open up, and MC didn’t want her to feel like she had to hide herself ever again. So, she opened up first. She wanted to let Vivienne know that she felt comfortable with her, and that Vivienne could feel that way with her as well.

MC felt safe in Vivienne’s arms, and there wasn’t a second thought at all while she told Vivienne her stories. There wasn’t anymore second guessing, no more being afraid that Vivienne would run away, or maybe that she would run away. She knew what they had was real, and she knew Vivienne was in it for the long run.

Every now and then, Vivienne would pepper soft kisses over MC’s hands and neck, reminding her that she was still listening, and that she was happy to do so.

Who knew this world renowned thief would grow up to fall so madly in love with this simple Cuban girl?Written by @wonder-falcon 

#Anonymous #lovestruck #women of lovestruck #lovestruck headcanons #vivienne tang #vivienne x mc #queen of thieves vivienne #qot vivienne #queen of thieves #fluff #miscellaneous monday

[xxrainbow-princessxx]

Band of Brothers - Leo x Liam

Well this has turned into an unexpected mini series isn’t it? This mini series is to explore the angst and uncertainty that the Royal Heir ending did not deliver on. I expected more tbh so this is where the AU has arisen from.  Trigger warnings as always - there’s some angst, fighting, swearing, discussions of kink. Read at your own risk as the jump will be below! 

To catch up, please see the below chapter listing

Chapter One: Enough

Chapter 2: Homeward Bound 

Tag list: @lorirwritesfanfic @drakewalkerfantasy @desireepow-1986 @liam-rhys @mom2000aggie @lorircreates @rainbowsinthestorm @hopefulmoonobject @rafasgirl23415 @itslaniquelove @texaskitten30 @kingliam2019 @speedyoperarascalparty @kimmiedoo5

Leo didn’t know what to expect when he would return to Cordonian Palace. The one thing he was sure of was to trust no one; the betrayal of the noble houses of Cordonia was tantamount to treason in Leo’s mind. For the noble houses to turn and threaten the Rys line once again, it was time that they were reminded of their place. It was the early hours of the morning as the Cadillac Escalade drove up the gravel path towards the beautiful baroque building’s outline glowed under the moonlight except for one room that burned the midnight oil. The warm glow was only a perceived invite, inside was nothing more than what felt like an empty shell. The room itself felt like Liam, the walls were like his body, a simple structure holding everything together but it was empty like his heart. He was surrounded by Cordonian Law books, the same books he read night after night to find a loophole, to find some hope in what had become a very dark six months. Staring at the picture of him, Sienna and Camille that sat on his desk, he couldn’t help himself. Picking it up and looking at her smiling, Liam could feel a lump forming in his throat, “My beautiful Camille...” he whispered, “I am so sorry my darling... I hope some day you will be able to forgive me...”

Leo sighed heavily as he saw his brother falling apart, his heart breaking as he pleaded for his daughter’s forgiveness. Liam slowly dropped the picture on his desk, not noticing Leo’s presence as he ran his hands down his face to disguise his falling tears. “Liam...” Leo quietly spoke as he closed the distance between them, putting his hand on his brother’s shoulder, “Come on... it’s 4am... you need to get some sleep...” Liam’s steel blue eyes looked up towards Leo, he was completely lost, “Brother... I can’t... I need to...” Leo closed his eyes, composing himself as he tried to persuade him, “Liam... what your doing, this isn’t going to help Camille, it’s hindering it... you’re exhausted...” Angrily brushing Leo’s hand from his shoulder, “What would you know?” Liam barked before rising to his feet staring down his elder brother, “What the hell would you know what Camille needs?” Leo sucked in his cheeks, not rising to Liam’s rant as the Cordonian King squared up to Leo. Liam’s 6’1” muscular frame was impressively strong as he took a swing, his fist colliding with his brother’s jaw.

Leo wiped his mouth carefully as he glared at Liam, “That was the free shot...” before he dodged Liam’s second attempt to maim his sibling. Liam might have been strong, but he had never been a match for Leo. Every time they ever fought, even as kids; Liam never stood a chance as Leo outwitted him each and every time. Liam may have been the more scholarly brother, Leo was more athletic. Strategically backing Liam into a corner, Leo took him by the throat, pressing him hard against the wall. His nostril’s flared and face reddened as he growled, “This is your mess you selfish son of a bitch!” Leo’s sea green eyes burned with anger as he watched his brother struggling to breathe turning a fiery red as he struggled. “Do not regret me coming back here to...” Leo threw Liam back like a rag doll against the wall watching as he gasped for air and his face turning from a bright red to a light pink, “fucking help you...” Liam bent over slightly as he coughed, glaring up towards Leo, “You bastard...” he wheezed watching as Leo smugly chuckled to himself pouring a glass of whiskey.

“Brother...” Leo savoured the smokey texture that filled his senses, “Don’t think for one minute that I won’t beat the absolute shit out of you... that was pathetic...” before handing Liam a glass, “You need sleep... maybe then that swing...” Leo’s lip curled upwards, “...might have done a bit of damage...” Liam reluctantly took the glass trying his hardest not to smile, “Next time... you won’t be so lucky...” It had been the first time in what felt like forever that Liam had a hint of a smile. “But you never answered my question... what are you doing here?” Leo ran his fingers through his sandy blonde feathered hair getting the crystal tumbler down gently on Liam’s desk, “For you Brother...” Leo sat down on the edge of Liam’s desk, “I might not always be here but Cordonia will always be my home and like hell will I stand back and allow someone to tarnish the reputation of the Rys name...” Liam rubbed his neck as Leo continued and stood to his feet “But I need you fighting with me, I can’t do this alone. I need you, for Camille...” Leo extended his hand out to Liam his sea green eyes flickered with hope, the green and blue speckles that framed his iris glistened with a focus and drive that Liam didn’t expect, “You in or not?” Liam took Leo’s hand before the elder Rys brother brought him into his embrace whispering, “We’ll get her back even if I die trying...”

Leo didn’t remain in the Cordonian capital. After his visit with Liam, they agreed the Palace was not their safest option if they were flush out the rats. Leo retreated to the Lythikos mountains out of view; very few knowing of his return to Cordonia a week ago. If anyone asked him why he had returned, or where Isabella was, Leo dodged the question. “Thanks Liv...” he mumbled, furiously going through the documents that were uncovered during Anton’s reign of terror. Each page, the words and letters began to roll into one, becoming one large smudge of ink on the page hoping to find something, anything to help their cause. It was the past that kept haunting them, so the Lythikos vaults were the first place Leo wanted to search. “Do you know when Liam is going to arrive?” The fierce redhead rolled her emerald green eyes, “I’m not his keeper you know...” Leo slowly began to smirk, “Don’t even sit there Liv and bullshit me like you don’t care about him... wasn’t the first time I walked in on you and Li...” Olivia snorted at the thought as Leo continued to tease, “The Nevrakis wildchild and the overly polite Cordonian Prince...” The auburn haired statuesque beauty raised her brow, “Remember Leo... I know where you sleep and I promise...” as she removed a dagger from her knee high boot pointing it towards the former Crown Prince, “I don’t miss...” Leo’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly, taunting Olivia, “Are you trying to seduce me Lady Olivia?” Leo began to chuckle as the tip of the cold blade of steel was gently pressed to his throat, “I’m still a married man... but who knows, I might like it...” Pulling the dagger away, Olivia drove it into the table as Leo grinned, “Ugh... You’re still a deviant... How did Isabella put up with you?”

As the Cordonian delegation arrived, Olivia‘a staff quickly ushered them into the grand drawing room. Drake, Hana and Maxwell wandered around taking in their weaponised surroundings as Liam stood with his hands behind his back anxiously waiting to see if they had found anything. Leo and Olivia walked side by side together discussing the finer intricacies of a choke hold as they met their waiting guests. Leo’s sea green eyes immediately narrowed as he saw Maxwell standing in front of him with a smile. Stepping closer to Liam, Leo angrily whispered, “What the fuck is Beaumont doing here?” Liam didn’t flinch as he replied, “Well... there’s someone else outside waiting for you, so stones in glass houses brother... Matéo turned up at the Cordonian Palace earlier today...” Leo clenched down on his teeth, his jaw rippling “Get him out of here...” - , “Olivia...” he turned smiling pleasantly, “Can you fill these guys in... I seem to have an unexpected visitor...” Leo pulled on the arms of his jacket, finding his soon to be brother in law standing in the Navrakis hallway, “Matéo...” Leo questioned, “What can I do for you?” Isabella’s brother raised his brow, “I think you and I need to have a pretty frank conversation...”

Leo ushered Matéo into a side room, closing the door behind him, Matéo placed his black leather briefcase onto the table, taking out a bundle of papers throwing them onto the desk, “Sign these...” Leo began to scan through the documents, taking a pen out of his blazer jacket. Isabella had cited ‘Irreconcilable Differences’ as the reason for dissolution of their marriage. It was a bitter pill to swallow but it had to be done. Whilst Leo examined the documentation, Matéo crossed his arms, infuriated at the situation, “So are you going to tell me what happened?” Leo signed the decree nisi papers, before clicking the top of his pen, “Not even a hello first...” Leo began to chuckle, “Don’t try to fuck me over before buying me dinner Matéo...I think we’ve known each other long enough to cut out that bullshit... This is between Isabella and I...” Running his fingers through his sandy blonde hair, Leo sighed heavily “You can tell Isabella I will be making a press conference tomorrow...” Leo looked up, his eyes meeting Matéo’s dark chocolate brown eyes “...that’s all you need to know...” before handing him the signed documentation, “Is that everything?” Matéo sucked in his cheeks as he reached for the signed decree nisi, snatching it from Leo’s hand, “Believe me Leo... I will find out exactly what’s going on... and when I do... I will kill you with my own bare hands...” Leo smirked as Matéo slammed shut his briefcase and without another word he walked towards the door, Leo’s lips were curled upward as he grinned, “Say hello to your husband for me...”

“Ok...” Leo returned to the grand drawing room, clapping his hands, “Now where were we before I got interrupted...” standing in front of them all, Leo wanted to gauge their expressions; he wanted to know what they knew. “As some of you may or may not already know...” Leo began to rub the back of his neck as he awkwardly stood, “Bella and I are divorcing...” Drake stood with his arms folded and brow raised as Leo continued, “After discussing the matter with Liam privately earlier in the week, there will be a press conference later today at the Palace to confirm, that’s why Matéo was here so I could sign the legal paperwork...” Drake shook his head in disbelief, “I really didn’t see that coming...” stepping forward, he placed his hand on Leo’s shoulder in solidarity, “...sorry to hear that man...” Leo nodded as his sights turned to Maxwell who remained unusually quiet. His sea green eyes flickered a shade of turquoise blue as they narrowed, “Beaumont... I’m rather surprised you are as quiet as you are...” Liam’s shoulders dropped as he sighed heavily praying to the highest heavens that his friend was true, “Maxwell?” The youngest Beaumont laughed nervously, “I don’t... I’m just in shock. I haven’t spoken with Bella in forever or Matéo... I’m as surprised as the rest of you...” Maxwell bit down on his lip as a sadness filled his heart.

He and Isabella had always been so close and with a sniff he continued, “Bella and I haven’t spoken since Nicol��s was born... I’ve been too embarrassed to go visit with everything that’s been going on, someone’s had to keep an eye on Barthemely... Bertrand and I are ashamed of what’s happened, but we only stay to ensure Camille’s safety and to help Liam where we can...” Leo pursed his lips as Liam jumped to Maxwell’s defence, “It is true... we are able to FaceTime with Camille, Maxwell and Bertrand have been keeping us in touch with her as much as they can...” Leo knew he couldn’t trust anyone but he had to test the waters somehow. “Ok... ok...” he submitted, “Whatever you all can do to bring ideas to the table, we would appreciate it...” stuffing his hands into his trouser pockets, Leo continued, “The law is strict when the Royal Council call for a child of the Monarch to be placed into regent’s care but we may have found a loophole, isn’t that right Liv?” Olivia raised her brow, a little taken by surprise. Her ruby red lips were pursed as she read everyone’s expression, “Yes...” her strong, confident voice hammered the point following Leo’s lead, “Yes... we have. We will brief you all after the press conference... let’s go...” Olivia slowed to walk beside Leo, her emerald green eyes glared at him for putting her on the spot, “What the hell are you doing?” she whispered, Leo slowly began to grin with a mischievous twinkle in his eye chuckling as he watched the others walking ahead, “A simple game of Telephone should stir things up a little...” Olivia coyly smiled at Leo’s response as she placed her hand on her curvaceous hip - his plan was so simple, it was elegant, “I’m slightly impressed Rys...”

Leo fixed the lapels of his Armani suit, pulling on the sleeves to straighten his jacket completely unfazed by the gathering media who congregated in the Cordonian Royal Gardens waiting impatiently for the press conference to start, not knowing what statement was going to be made. Ana de Luca and Donnie were front row, looking slightly confused as Leo waved out to the crowd, taking centre stage on the Royal podium. “Good Evening everyone...” Leo began, no script needed as he continued, “I’m sure you all are surprised that I would be addressing you today; however...” he took a deep breath, his was pushed out, determined as he spoke with a commanding confidence, “I must announce that myself and Queen Isabella are in the process of divorcing...” His eyes narrowed slightly as the media began to shout wanting questions but Leo ignored them, “... I still and always will have the utmost respect for Isabella as we embark on this new journey. This is very new for us and we are still navigating how we can work together for the best of our children... but during this transition period, I would ask that our family’s privacy is respected at this time. There will be no follow up questions, thank you...” Walking off of the podium, Leo kept his head down as he was ushered back into the Cordonian Palace shielding himself from the cameras. Now all he could do was wait.

#choices #leo x isabella #the royal romance #prince leo #choices fanfiction #choices the royal romance #playchoices #queen isabella #royal romance au #playchoices fanfiction #King Liam #Drake Walker #olivia nevrakis #maxwell beaumont