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rom-e-o · 5 months

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Not Supposed to Be Here (Ebenezer/Constance)(Modern AU)

Unwanted company follows Constance home one day.

Rated 13+. Triggers for stalking from a third party, light violence w/ mention of blood, and some language. All the romance is just fluff, maybe with some innuendo if you squint.

Also, this takes place in a modern AU universe featuring @quill-pen's Bess (and her own Ebenezer/zar), Addie, and Gal. Cameo time!

Happy reading!

Usually, Constance felt safer upon entering their flat’s guarded lobby.

The gentle chime of the entry bell and lemony smell of freshly sprayed cleaner offered an air of professional hominess. It felt sophisticated, but also slightly cavernous, which usually aided her feelings of safety.

The building was old in design, with darkly lacquered walls and natural stone floors, but the cameras and keypads that dotted the vicinity were the best money could buy. The cost of the units within the building damn near insisted it. As a result, most of the residents did the same.

Literal resident, philanthropist (and casual billionaire) Ebenezer Samuel Scrooge, for example, had spared no expense in making her feel safe once she moved into his upscale London apartment. The man already had an impressive security system installed. A few years ago, he would have said it was to protect the funds, ledgers, and gold he prized. Now, it was to protect the woman with a heart of gold whom he had the honor of marrying in a few months’ time.

While Ebenezer treasured Constance open and ardently, her presence alone wasn’t the only factor that inspired him to pay top dollar for security.

He knew that being at his side put her in the public eye, and considering her ex-husband’s very active restraining order, he had updated the system to the latest model the day she first entered his abode.

Not only was the front door guarded by a doorman and the front desk staffed by two receptionists, but the floor Ebenezer’s flat occupied could only be accessed by a special elevator, which was manned by its own staff member at all hours, except for the occasional break. There was, of course, the fire escape out back, but that area was also guarded with cameras closely.

Yet, even as she made small talk with the attendants and checked their postbox for mail, a sense of uneasiness lingered over her like a storm cloud.

She felt unusually restless; like eyes were on her, but not just any set of eyes.

It had been just over a year since she’s felt that familiar sense of dread … the nightmare of his eyes, dark and cold as fog, watching her. Scrutinizing her. Hating her from afar.

A Harrods catalog slipped from her hands and onto the floor.

The rustle caught the attention of a nearby receptionist.

“Something wrong, Ms. DoGoode?” one asked, peering up at her from their post behind a large Mac monitor. They appeared to be checking their emails, the camera feed resigned to a smaller window in the lower corner.

Constance turned and looked behind her, her gaze moving through the lobby and out into the busy London streets. The frost-covered glass hid the details of the sidewalk and traffic outside from her view, but nothing immediately caught her attention.

Prudence, the large mastiff that loyally followed her lead even without a leash, followed her eyes. In response to her owner’s obvious discomfort, her stance immediately became more protective at the first showing of fear. She glanced around, growling in an attempt to stave off whatever was causing her new mama to tremble.

Yet, even as they both ladies stared out the front door, they saw … nothing.

Perhaps she was imagining things. Or, imagining people.

Trying to save face, Constance chuckled and tucked her mail away in her evergreen Telfar shopping bag, a recent acquisition from New York that her mother had sent.

“I’m fine,” she said, making sure to flash the receptionist a grin. “Clumsy as always, haha! Thank you for worrying.”

As if sensing her discomfort, Prudence whimpered and pawed at her lower legs. She bent and scooped up the mailer, then rubbed her large, meatball-shaped noggin. “Sorry, girl. I guess I’m just imagining things.”

Something must have triggered the feeling, she thought. Maybe another man in the lobby was wearing the same cologne as him, and she’d picked up on it subconsciously. Maybe she hadn’t seen someone coming in behind her at the entrance, and she’d let a door fall shut on someone. Yet, if that was the case, they apparently hadn’t stuck around to chastise her.

With kind words of parting, Constance made her way to the gilded elevator tucked in the back of the lobby. Prudence stayed behind just a moment longer, cocking her face at something beyond the glass.

Constance whistled as she held the door. “Come, Prudence.”

With a huff, the pup gave up her pursuit and trotted into the elevator.

“Good girl,” she praised. With those words, the elevator doors fell shut.

Moments later, the front door opened softly, and a man stepped in.

“Excuse me,” he asked as he approached the desk. We wore a dark trench with camel-colored gloves tucked into his pockets. His American accent was distinct, with a slight Dutch twang. “I looking for someone, and I think I just saw her go up.”

“Let’s see…oh, Harrods opened their Christmas department,” Constance exclaimed as she read the mailer on the ride up. “Oh, they already have their teddy bear display up this year! The Cratchit children would adore that. We should all go on an evening after work!”

While Constance attempted to distract herself by reading the seasonal ads, Prudence kept glancing around, as if even the tiniest shadow in the elevator could pose a threat.

“I wonder…has Bess ever been before?” Constance pondered aloud. “I’ll have to text Wolf and see. What a fun surprise that would be!”

Lacquered maroon nails tapped the glossy paper impatient. She glanced around the small space and heaved a sigh. “The, um, attendant must be on break.”

The mastiff definitely wasn’t listening. Her expressive eyes furrowed at every sound, and when the doors opened on the private floor, she even let out a bark.

Smiling softly, Constance gave Prudence a reassuring pat on the back as they exited. “You’re so brave, protecting me. Thank you, sweetheart.”

The praise temporarily distracted Prudence from her apprehension, her tongue lolling from her gummy jaw. Her tail swayed like a ship’s mast during a sea storm.

“Now, keys, keys…” Constance said, reaching her entire arm into the large bag to fish out the front door key to the apartment.

When her fingers brushed the distinct, heart-shaped keyring, a grin bloomed on her face. “There you are! Sneaky.”

Constance unlocked the front door, making sure to wipe her heels on the welcome mat before crossing the threshold.

“Ebenezer?” she called into the space, only to be greeted with silence. She heard no voices, or even music, from within. It seemed he was still out on business. He’d been called to a private meeting at a client’s estate. As the meeting was outside of their usual office location, there had been no reason for Constance to accompany him. Instead, he recommended she take the day off.

She smiled at the memory, especially how he had promised her he’d be back by dinner, then kissed her lovingly on her lips to seal the promise.

In fact, he kissed her each and every time they parted, no exceptions.

She kicked off her heels quickly, then reached up to a keypad located right next to their coatrack.

In addition to a front door key, the apartment had a security system that triggered every time the door was unlocked from the outside. Upon each entry, a special code had to be keyed in to disarm the system until the next time someone entered the space.

Some called the measure tiring or even nerve-inducing. She understood those sentiments, but to her, it was nothing but reassuring. It was a small price to pay for safety, in her mind. More than anything, she was grateful that Ebenezer took her safety so seriously.

She reached up and keyed in the code, her manicured nails tapping polished nickel buttons quickly. By now, she knew the code so well that she could enter it without even looking at the numbers.

A gentle beep sounded from the device, and Constance grinned in satisfaction. “There we go! Now then, miss ma’am Prudie, let’s—”

Without warning, the mastiff began to howl and bark. The volume of her bellows was so loud that the windows seemingly rattled in place.

His cheap cologne gave him away to Prudence before Connie had realized.

Just as the door was about the latch, a gloved hand shot through and stopped it from falling shut. The hand was large and masculine, adorned in a nondescript leather glove that would have been commonplace for anyone in London to wear, especially during the ideas of winter.

However, Constance recognized the glove instantly. She only knew one man who wore camel-colored leather gloves, complete with gold buttons at the wrists.

“Well, well,” Orin Spiegler grumbled, throwing the door open hard enough that the knob punched the drywall and left a hole. “The Sun was right.”

“Orin.” The sound came out as a choked gasp rather than a question.

“Normally I don’t read the tabloids, but when I saw that you hadn’t sent me a wedding invitation, I thought I’d check in with you personally.”

On stockinged feet, Constance stepped back from the front door. Shock stole her voice and ability to move, causing her to creep away with the speed of maple syrup through a frozen tap.

After a terrifying beat of silence, the man raised his arms like a preacher in a sermon and let out a loud laugh. “Well, don’t just stand there! Why don’t you give your ex-husband a hello, at least? After all, I flew all the way here. Don’t I at least get a kiss?”

She felt physically sick, as if she could vomit right there on the spot. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

“I’m banned from London? I’m here on business, Connie. Something our little … separation almost ruined for me. Don’t worry, I have no hard feelings about it, so don’t worry yourself into an episode over it.”

“I have a restraining order,” she said, her voice steady but far from confident. The acid behind his stare made it hard for her to control the tremble in her voice. “Y-You know that. You can be in London, of course, but…”

“I know you do, my little pumpkin-haired princess,” he said, his tone as condescending as his verbiage, “But, I was in the neighborhood. You know, the financial district, and saw you walking that fabulous little pup of yours.”

Her eyes flitted to the keypad, the red ‘Alarm’ button in the corner practically screaming to be pressed. She wanted to lunge to it, but her ex-husband’s broad-shouldered frame blocked it readily. Perhaps she could shove him, she thought, though her gut knew that she could move him even if she tried her hardest.

She’d never been able to shove him away before, after all.

Prudence continued to growl at the strange man, her canines flashing, and her impressive berth only accentuated by her splayed pose. Lowering herself close to the floor, she looked ready to spring up and attack, like an overwound toy or Jack-in-the-box.

“Easy there, princess. I’m not going to—”

When she snapped at his leg, his brow lifted in surprise.

“Temperamental, are we?” Orin sneered, “I never did like dogs. Too needy.”

His words sounded assured, but Constance couldn’t help but observe that the man had shrank away from her the tiniest bit.

He was scared of Prudence, she realized. Good. This was very good!

“She’s weary of strangers,” she offered, tilting her head down slightly.

“Didn’t seem weary when you were in the lobby.”

Her stomach congealed. So, he hadn’t imagined the feeling after all. “T-Then you must have also seen that I was talking with building security.”

“Who are just SO great at their jobs!” Orin mockingly posed, index finger bouncing in the air as if to tap an invisible period on the end of his statement. “Truly, bravo! I mean, all I had to do was walk in and speak to that lovely receptionist. She heard my accent, and I said I was a friend of yours. I told her I’d seen you while walking by and had just missed you in the lobby. Not a lie, after all. Then it was just a matter of choosing the right floor.”

“The right floor?”

“Everyone knows where your decrepit fiancé lives,” he said. “Exterior shots are all over the gossip rags. You should read them, actually! They say some things about you. Mostly about your breasts and age. I can’t believe they think you’re a 32DD. We all know you’re a—”

“Please stop,” she pleaded, holding a hand up, “I don’t care. I really don’t.”

“You should. They’re short-changing you, babe.”

“Don’t call me that. Also, don’t insult Ebenezer.”

“Well, anyway, images of you at your last dress-fitting kept me and all the other guys very entertained in the airport,” he said with a smile. “You ladies all looked so cuuuute! I’m glad you had some friends for this fitting. It must have been so lonely last time, with just you and your parents.”

“I-I…”

“I recognized Bess – fucking gorgeous lady, tell her I said that—”

“I won’t.”

“—and the other two … Addie and Gal, yes?”

“I’m not telling you.”

“So, I’m right. Fah-bulous. Are they taken?”

“In every way, shape and form,” she said flatly. “Are you satisfied?”

Orin chuckled a little too hard, until the sound petered out into a garish gasp. Then, his eyes drifted out the nearby apartment window, as if he was lost in thought. She almost thought she could sneak past him, until his eyes flashed back to her at the speed of an owl’s.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Connie?” he asked. “You. Here. With him.”

Constance furrowed her brow. “I don’t understand the question.”

“You’re not going to fall for the same song and dance again, are you?” he asked. “Doesn’t this feel familiar to you? The courting? The sweet nothings? You, sitting alone in an apartment, biding your time until he grows bored with you?”

It was Constance’s turn to laugh, but this time, in disbelief. “You and Ebenezer are nothing alike. Not in any way.”

“Now, that can’t be true,” he objected. “After all, you love him … and you loved me. Once upon a time, maybe, but you did. We must have a few similarities.”

“I loved the man I thought you were.”

“Perhaps we have acting in common.”

“No.”

“You think this one will last?” he asked. “That a man with his wealth and status will be satisfied with just you?”

“You have no right to—”

"Want a little insider tip?” Orin asked with a smirk. “Think of men like cabs, babe. When they're available, their light goes on. Ping! They wake up one day and decide they're ready to settle down, have a couple brats, they’re like a driver on-duty. The light goes on, and then, it’s a race against all the other cabs to get their next passenger. The next woman they pick-up? BOOM! That's the one. Marriage, kids, life-rending depression.”

Constance shook her head. “You might be like that—”

“—All men are like that—”

“—But Ebenezer isn’t.”

The guffaw that left Orin’s lips was as strident as cannon fire. “You think you're living a sweet little love story? You got lucky. You were just a pretty, desperate redhead on the curb. He pulled up, and you couldn't wait to hop in, couldn't you?"

Constance couldn’t look Orin in the eyes. “I-I…accepted Ebenezer’s kindness, yes. But I assure you, he was kind to me out of the goodness of his heart. He never expected anything in return because he’s a good man. A generous man!”

“Right,” Orin said. “And yet…here you two are. Living together. Engaged.”

“Stop.”

“A therapist would call this a troubling pattern, Con. You’re the common denominator here.”

“You were the one who asked me to marry you!” she asserted, her voice starting to hike in volume.

Then, to her horror, a grin split his face. “Oh … that’s right. I asked you. I flicked my little light on when I chatted you up, bought you a few vodka sodas on starry rooftops, compared you to a Botticelli angel, held your hand when we ice-skated in Rockefeller Center …I pulled my car up to your curb. And what did you do?”

He stepped forward again, which sent Prudence into a frenzy of howling and barking. Given the volume of her bellowing voice, it wouldn’t be long before neighbors (or security) investigated the noise.

This time, however, he didn’t shrink away. Instead, he reared his foot back and landed a solid kick right in her gut. The force sent Prudence staggering back enough for her to lose her footing.

Constance blanched at the sight. “Prudence!”

“You, a beautiful but dense girl from Manhattan, saw my light was on … and jumped right in.”

She flew to her knees and went to check on Prudence’s condition. Thankfully, it wasn’t a second of checking later that the mastiff was back to her senses. It appeared his blow had merely stunned her temporarily. With one shake of the head, she was right on her feet again.

Prudence weighed more than Orin by about twenty pounds, and while she had been holding back before, his attack only shattered her self-restraint. She lunged forward, jaws snapping and gullet foaming with rage. The force of her attack sent him to his elbows with a bone-rattling thump. Prudence didn’t cite or claw at him, but she did make a lot of noise while pinning is chest.

As predicted, the commotion caused doors to open in the hall, and Constance heard the concerned questions of neighbors.

While Orin was distracted, Constance bolted up and slammed the ‘Alarm’ button on the system. Along with the loud, reverberating barks from Prudence, the rhythmic blaring of the alarm created further commotion.

Pressing the button also automatically pinged authorities of an emergency.

It would also notify Ebenezer via cell message – a notification she knew he never silenced.

She wasn’t answering.

Ebenezer had no doubt he’d find at least twenty traffic tickets in his mailbox in the coming weeks, but the alarm had been activated at his flat and Constance wasn’t answering her phone.

If only he’d been at his usual office; he could have sprinted home, but no. Today of all days, he had been in a meeting outside of London, and had had to drive 15 minutes out to meet a particularly uppity client at their private estate.

Ebenezer had a feeling that the man would become an ex-client after how he’d dashed out after barely a word to Bob and his twin brother Ebenezar, but he couldn’t even care.

“Dammit, MOVE!” he swore, avoiding a flock of cyclists as he sped down A2198.

Once again, his call went to voicemail, and he immediately dialed again. All he could focus on was driving (AKA not crashing the car) and calling Constance’s phone over and over.

He left one pleading voicemail after another, begging her to call him back and also letting her know that he would be there soon.

When he finally had a visual of his building, he saw police parked out front, but their lights were off. Most importantly, there were no ambulances or other emergency vehicles. This slightly ebbed his panic, but not enough for him to coast into the building’s private garage and find a spot. Instead, he pulled up and parked in the street with alignment that could generously be described as cattywampus.

Again, he couldn’t care. Let them blast his windshield with parking tickets

Pushing the doors open and sprinting into the lobby, two of the guards immediately went to his side. Their goal had likely been to inform him of the situation, but their insistence upon pleasantries was too much chatter for him to handle.

“Sir, we’re glad you’re here!” one said, a light sheen of perspiration already coating their face. “Thank goodness, we were just going to—”

“Talk while you walk with me,” Ebenezer ordered, his voice practically bladed with tension. “Now.”

Instead of taking the elevator, he keyed into a private side staircase and took the steps up two at a time. Even professional firefighters would have had a hard time keeping up with the man.

Ten floors passed in the blink of an eye. Upon arriving at his flat’s level, he threw the door open to his floor to see a gaggle of officers crowded around his open doorway at the end of the hall. For a moment, his heart stopped at the sight before him.

Then, amidst a sea of curious onlookers and uniformed constables, he saw a flash of red hair. He would have recognized that hue anywhere.

“Constance!” he yelled, running down the hall at the sight of her.

Upon hearing her name, she turned to face him, her face puffy and her eyes blazing from worry. She was sitting on the floor in the doorway of their flat, Prudence seated at her side and nuzzling her face. They were okay, he thought, barely resisting tears.

She didn’t have time to speak before Ebenezer had shoved his way through the crowd and enveloped her in his embrace. They crashed together like comets compelled together by gravity.

Once in his arms, he felt her sink into him desperately, as if she was a small animal seeking solace from a hunter. “E-Ebenezer …I’m so sorry.”

He shushed her kindly but immediately, his wide palm falling protectively across her back. He urged her closer, and she obliged with a thankful sob, her shoulders shaking as she wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in the crook of his neck.

“It’s okay, Sunshine,” he whispered, turning slightly to place a kiss upon her damp cheek. “Gods, I’m so relieved to see you. I-I…can’t even tell you what I was thinking on the drive … ”

As they embraced, Scrooge heard nearby officers chatter about what had just transpired.

“The bloke said he was here on business, but his name isn’t pulling up any employers here or Stateside.”

Business? Stateside?

With Constance still folded tightly in his arms, he looked over to see a smaller group of officers that had gathered around … someone. He squinted his eyes, as if trying to peer through the physical entities that blocked his view.

“Is he going to need a transport for any injuries?” a voice radioed in. “The dog jumped him, but all injuries look superficial.”

Dog? Were they talking about Prudence? He looked over to see that Prudence was staying close to Connie, hugging her flank closely while laying his head upon one of his bent thighs.

“Hey there, girl,” he whispered, his hand giving the base of her skull a scritch. “Are you okay?”

Prudence whispered, and Scrooge’s confusion deepened.

“No, we checked him out and he’s going straight to holding,” the officer replied, his tone clipped. “He’s breached a restraining order.”

“Acting in contempt of court, huh?” another repeated, followed by a huff of amusement. “Stupid bastard.”

Ebenezer’s blood ran cold. The realization of what had transpired hit him like a ton of bricks.

All other senses; his sight, his hearing, his sense of touch; faded away, and all he became conscious of was a building fury that threatened to turn his vision red. There, through the narrowest gap of legs, he saw the distinct pale skin and dark-hair of the man that had tormented his fiancée for decades.

“You.” Ebenezer stormed to his feet and crossed the hallway in two steps. He was driven by blinding anger, which caused his heart to buzz like a saw. With the posture of a lion spotting wounded prey, he surged forward and grabbed the front of Orin’s coat. The over-starched lapels crunched under the older man’s fingers from the strength of his grip.

At this lunge, panic ensued.

“Mr. Scrooge, sir—!”

“W-wait! Ebenezer!”

Ebenezer paid the others no mind as he hauled Orin close to his face, their brows nearly touching as he eyed the man like a Minotaur out for blood.

Orin wheezed out a laugh. Only then did he notice the light bruising and raised marks on the man’s neck, each swatch standing out brightly against his sickly skin.

Oh, he would absolutely reward Prudence for her hard work.

“I should put your hard head through this bloody wall, Spiegler.”

“Then we’d both be off the jail, wouldn’t we?” Orin taunted. When he grinned, he saw his teeth outlined in red. “See, I tried to tell Sunshine that you and I were more alike than different.”

"Did you?" he asked, practically snorting in amusement.

"Yes, but I see that time in sleepy little London has made her more of an airheaded bimbo than she already was. She just couldn't seem to grasp the concept."

He raised his other arm in preparation to dislocate Orin’s jaw first-hand, but paused just short of contact. Unfortunately, the goblin of a man had a point, and he was in no mood to be forced away from his wife. Or go to prison.

With a furious sneer, Ebenezer threw the man against the wall in release. The officers fumbled to catch him, but understandably, made no effort to chastise the philanthropist for his reaction.

“Get him out,” Ebenezer whispered, his shoulders hiked up to his ears, and his voice oozed with venom.

“W-Would you like us to—”

“I want everyone who isn’t a resident on this floor off of it,” he seethed, his tone oozing with disappointment. “Any officers that need to question us can come inside.”

When his gaze fell on Constance, still huddled next to Prudence on the ground, his icy gaze melted into something more careful and tepid. Slowly, he sank back onto his knees and pulled her into another hug.

“Come one,” he urged, his voice soft and so, so tender. “Let’s go inside. I’m with you.”

The entire questioning process was as cut-and-dry as it could have been, considering the circumstances. With the assistance of Orin’s digital footprint in addition to the less than glowing testimonies Constance and Ebenezer offered, the authorities were able to piece together a likely series of events. It seemed Orin had lied about his employment status. He was a self-employed crypto investor after having a falling out with his New York office and had no reason to be in London for any professional reason.

“There is … much for us to look into,” a constable said as they jotted notes in a small flipbook. “Ms. DoGoode, you said he made a comment about watching you enter the lobby. Yet, you say you didn’t see him?”

“N-No,” she answered, her voice sanded with exhaustion from the day’s events. “I felt like someone was watching me, and Prudence was looking out the front window too. I … thought maybe I was imagining things? I never actually saw him, though. Not until I keyed in and he grabbed the door.”

“Ah.” The officer scrawled another note.

“H-How did he get up onto the floor?” Constance asked. Prudence sat to her right, head in her lap, and Ebenezer sat to her left. One of his hands cupped her knee, his thumb moving in gentle rotations in one of the indents there. It was a soothing reminder of his presence that she was beyond grateful for.

“We’ve already interrogated the main office and are currently looking into where the oversight occurred.”

“That should be no issue, as there are cameras all over the building,” Scrooge chimed in, peering at the officers with impatience. “That should alleviate much confusion.”

“Yes, it should sir,” one replied. “We’re working to secure that footage properly.”

“Good.”

Constance watched her fiancé in intrigue. In all the time they’d known each other and dated, she had never seen him stare anyone down before, and she had to confess … it was quite unnerving. Regardless of how he addressed the officers, his hand remained tender when touching her.

Meanwhile, while the couple chatted with authorities, other members of the growing Scrooge family pack (comprised of the many friends, associates, and relatives that the twins had connected with) texted in. His twin brother, Ebenezar, had known something was amiss. He’s watched him sprint from the meeting after all.

Upon receiving a brief overview of what happened, as well as a request to inform the others, the messages trickled in steadily:

>>Ebenezar: I knew something was wrong when you left … but I had no idea that it was that bad, Sammy.

>>Bess: I will KILL that man, I swear.

>>Ebenezar: If the authorities half-ass detaining him, they’re not going to like the next letter from our firm that crosses their desk.

...

>>Addie: Don’t worry about any errands! Tom and I can bring things your way!

>>Tom: You bet we can. Are you both set for dinner tonight? I can run something over.

...

>>Harry: I’m so sorry, Uncle. Can Hela and I do anything? Just say the word.

...

>>Bob: I just called Mr. Ebenezar as well, and we’re going to divide and conquer at work. Consider it all done.

>>Ethel: What cell is he in? I’ve been taking axe-throwing lessons, and my aim is damn good.

...

>>Gal: If you guys need some door security that’s worth a damn, Jake and I are free tonight.

...

After one last swipe of their men, the interviewer cleared their throat, the loudness of it conveying a sense of finality.

“We’ll keep you both apprised of any updates,” the officer said as they pushed themselves up from the sofa. With a nod to their partner, they reached across the table to shake Scrooge’s hand. An odd gesture, all things considered, but he did reciprocate, though his eyes remained as sharp as a steel edge.

“I certainly hope those updates include information on whether Mr. Spiegler’s detainment details change,” he said. “Clearly an order from the court is not enough to stop him.”

“Absolutely, sir. We’ll keep you both posted.”

Constance was relieved the questioning was over, and allowed her fiancé to take the reins at leading the officers out the door. After a few more pleasantries, she heard the reverberating sound of the door latch and the telltale beeping of the security system turning on for the night.

When she looked up, she saw Ebenezer tentatively approaching her. His footfalls were soft, as if he was walking on snow. His touch was even softer as he reached down to push a few strands of auburn hair back from her face.

“I’m so, so sorry,” she started. Her tone was borderline formal in manner and delivery, as if she was speaking to an associate rather than the man she wanted to marry.

Ebenezer’s gentleness turned to confusion swiftly. “Goodness, whatever for?”

She paused to blink back tears before answering. Another apology left her.

“I’m sorry for how … for how I seem to always make your life more difficult,” Constance said slowly. She directed her gaze at a notch in the hardwood flooring, unable to look her fiancé in the eyes. She knew in that moment that, if she glimpsed his face, she knew she would cry again. “I-I should have noticed him sooner. I should have trusted my gut better.”

“No, sweetheart—”

“I should have trusted Prudence,” she said, looking down at said pup, whose head still rested in Constance’s lap. Upon seeing her sweet, droopy eyes peer up at her, Constance caved as a sob rattled her body. “H-He kicked Prudence, Ebenezer! She was so brave, protecting me, a-and I let her get hurt!”

For a moment, Ebenezer couldn’t find the words to speak. Did she … really care more about Prudence than her own safety?

Seeing Constance cry spurred London's finest lady (and treat aficionado) to lift her head and lick the woman’s face, lapping away her tears. She was also incredibly ticklish there, and Prudence’s kisses dissolved her tears instantly. With peals of laughter leaving her, Ebenezer leaned in and gave Prudence an affectionate kiss on the forehead.

“She’s a strong girl,” he assured, grinning broadly. “Aren’t you, Prudence?”

She barked in agreement, her warm and deep ‘ruff’ filling the space.

Constance huffed out another laugh, always amazed at how the pup seemed to understand conversations better than some humans. Although Prudence had done a sterling job at ridding Constance’s face of her tears, Ebenezer still fished a clean handkerchief from his trouser pocket. He dabbed her face gently, careful not to pull or tug her skin.

“Tomorrow, just to be safe, we’ll take her to the vet,” he promised. “We’ll get her looked over and make sure she’s in tip-top shape. Trust me, Prudence has had many children accidentally tumble over her before. She helps the Cratchit children decorate at Christmas, after all!”

Constance giggled again, covering her mouth sheepishly as she did so.

Just the sight of her smile was enough to lift a huge weight from his shoulders. While the entire afternoon had been an exercise in panic, all that mattered to him was that she was safe.

“Now,” he said, placing the handkerchief in her hand, then caging her smaller hands in his, “What we’re also going to do is take a holiday. We’re going to spend some time away from the flat and let things calm down.”

The suggestion brightened Constance’s eyes, but that excitement was almost immediately tempered. “What about work?”

“I’ll call in some favors. My brother is a damn fine businessman – definitely better at handling clients than I am. Don't tell him I said so, though. Bob will handle the books. And if all else fails? Well, being a private practice has many benefits.” He then paused to rub his chin in thought. “Actually, it might be good to close our doors for a few weeks to give everyone a break.”

“Y-You think?” she asked. “Wait, but what about…?”

“Profits?” he asked, unable to hold back a smirk. “You’ve seen our accounts. We could shut down for the next thousand years and be right as rain. And that’s a moderate estimate.”

Again, that beautiful smile came back. Mere hours before he’s suddenly been faced with the possibility of never seeing that smile again, and the thought of that physically sickened him.

“Sunshine, what you said earlier…” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper, “I…never want you to think that I see your ex-husband’s actions as a reflection of you. When you say you don’t want to make life more difficult for me, I realize that I cannot even begin to describe all the ways your have made my life immeasurably better since we first met.

“Since you came into my life, I’ve been changed in ways that, frankly, I thought I were beyond me. I thought I was too old to experience many of these lovely, sentimental emotions that poets love to wax on about.” He laughed, tossing his head back and staring at the ceiling. “Gods, I’ve never met someone who makes me feel so excited every time I’m proven wrong. It’s a feeling I’d wish every human could feel.”

Transfixed, she could only watch as he slowly turned to face her again. “You have made me excited to face each day. You’ve inspired me to notice small things – before meeting you, I don’t think I ever paid attention to those fuzzy caterpillars that come onto the sidewalks after it rains, or the way Prudence’s nose always wiggles slightly when she’s about to sneeze.”

“Really?” she asked. Her tone sounded so hopeful that it practically broke his heart.

“Yes!” he confessed. The answer couldn’t rush from his lips fast enough. “When I was calling your phone earlier, I…started thinking the worst. I suddenly couldn’t bear the idea of walking into that flat again if you weren’t there, or going back to work and seeing your desk empty. Seeing your coats line dup so neatly in our hall closet. Seeing your make-up on our bathroom sink. Not smelling your perfume on the pillow beside mine. Not hearing you have a sneeze attack every time you smell pepper, or not being able to race you down to the front lobby when we order take-away.”

Constance’s breath caught in her throat as she noticed tears prickling the corner’s of her love’s steely eyes as he rambled.

“When I tell you that there is no possible way you could make my life worse by being a part of it, I’m deathly serious,” he confessed. A tear darted down his cheek, and as he attempted to stifle a sob of his own, she dabbed it away with the handkerchief.

As if this gesture proved his point, a puff of laughter escaped him.

“The only possible way you could make my life harder or worse … is if you were no longer in it.”

It was his turn to cry as the tension of the day caught up to him, and he felt the floodgates break. Blast, he hated how easily he could be brought to tears sometimes.

What made it easier, however, was feeling Constance’s embrace circle him. Her hands latched at the base of his neck as she leaned in and covered his broader body with hers. His arms circled her waist, securing her in place, keeping her safe and present with him.

For many hours, they stayed like that, silently sobbing and embracing each other as the anxiety of the day left their bodies in literal waves. By the time they’d both exhausted their eyes to achy redness, sleep lingered over them with overwhelming insistence.

With mutual understanding, both parted ways to make some small changes before laying down. Ebenezer loosened his tie and Constance removed her constricting pantyhose, leaving her only in her blouse and pencil skirt. He gave her an impish whistle, and she threw that garment at him playfully.

Using her fiancé’s head as a pillow, she curled up atop his body and nuzzled her face against his shirt. Her ear laid squarely over his heart, where she could hear its steady and strong beat just inches away. Ebenezer moved a hand to the small of her back to not only make sure she stayed in place atop him and didn’t roll off, but to remind her of his presence.

“I’ll watch the door,” he promised, kissing the top of her head. “You sleep. I insist.”

His broad hand gave her waist a reassuring squeeze, hugging her close.

“And I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

>>Hello! You’re reached the voicemail for Constance DoGoode. I’m away from the phone right now, but leave your name and number, and I will return your call as soon as possible. Thank you!

… <BEEP>

<<Sunshine, it’s me. Please, please tell me you’re okay. I need to know you’re safe. I-I’m sorry for calling you over and over, and … fuck, I promise I’ll be there soon, angel. I promise. I love you, okay. I love you so much. I-I’m going to call again. Okay, love you. Please call me.”

#scrooge 2022 #scrooge netflix #scrooge x oc #oc constance dogoode #scroogeverse

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yallemagne · 11 days

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Arthur Hollywood Goddamnit. what do you think of him

Arthur Hollywood (Goddamnit) sounds like a reality TV show personality.

Ohhh, Arthur. I lament his lack of activity in the book, I cannot sing of my love without wailing over what could have been. Gah! There was so much potential for interesting interactions involving him, but his presence is less felt after Mina comforts him. It's as if Bram said "well, his trauma is resolved now" and just shoved him aside.

As a masc enby, having a male character who not only has the emotional maturity to let himself cry but is also held up by his peers as a noble masculine figure is just very important to me. I feel like his sensitivity could have aided the team greatly, but Mina gets all the emotional navigation skills once she's integrated into the team which is frustrating because of all of its sexist implications (cult of domesticity and all that, also she's doing all the emotional labour after being violently attacked, super unfair).

Also! Let Arthur and Mina speak to each other more!! He promised to be her brother!! I don't think he meant estranged brother!!

Also also!! Renfield is literally his father's ex-friend. What is going on there? How does Arthur feel about a fellow nobleman being imprisoned for madness? Does that spark any anxiety?

Also also also!!! *gestures to the largely undocumented partnership of Jonathan and Arthur in the final stretch* You cannot deny there's some hot goss there. Do you think they held hands on that boat?

I need to stop whinging.

Arthur is a very trusting man. Because of this, he trusted Jack unconditionally with Lucy's care and extended that same trust to VH when Jack brought him in. He questioned absolutely nothing, and while this made it easier for VH to keep secrets, it meant that Lucy's fluctuating condition went unreported. Arthur was unable to be there to support his love. He sent Quincey in his stead when the worry overtook him because surely Jack would not keep anything from him if things were truly as bad as he feared! Surely, Quincey would get there, everything would be well, and they'd all have a laugh about how overcautious Arthur is.

But things were worse than Arthur ever could have imagined, and his best friend refused to tell him. And yet! His trust in his friends is unwavering.

It's just so unfortunate that Arthur takes a backseat (so much so that on certain days, he and Quincey are just missing?? I can only assume they are doing jack shit to help the team) because it gives the impression he just has no particular feelings about the events of the rest of the book. Not to say he's completely emotionless, but he has no reactions that stand out like he did previously. The only one that comes to mind is super minor: him hesitating to reveal Renfield's death (I headcanon that he was shaken by it, but obv Bram meant it more like "I cannot mention death in front of a woman! she'll think it's a good idea and die as well!).

There's also the elephant in the room: I don't think under any circumstances that Lucy "chose wrong", and ya know, insisting that she did is patronizing and disrespectful, but I already made that post. I feel like that subject has a bit less to do with Arthur and more with Lucy because it doesn't matter which suitor I love best, the question is which one Lucy loves best. And the answer is Arthur.

I love him so much! I only wish that I had made more stuff involving him. Of course, I have plenty of WIPs featuring or even spotlighting him, but those ideas... are so grand... I have no short sweet ideas when it comes to Arthur. I want to go into depth, but I haven't been able to properly execute that. Thankfully, a goal in writing Orice is giving Arthur a larger role to play (so far, he, alongside Quincey, has been serving Jack a lot of talk-downs).

#thank you for the question!!#update #dracula #arthur holmwood #people ask me things #gabrielisdead

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undreaming-fanfiction · 2 years

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Piece by Piece: Healing Touch

"Your back is pretty fucked up, or so I hear every morning." Ignoring Steve's protests, he carried on. "If you let me help you with that, I swear on my guitar I will eat. Something. Nutritious," he spat out with feigned disgust.

"So...you're telling me that I get a massage and you start eating well?" Steve chuckled and the tension was gone, just like that. "You've got a deal. Seriously, Munson, where is the catch?"

But it's not that easy, as Eddie finds out. While Steve pretends to be okay, Eddie still hears the pained grunts, sees the stiffness of his boyfriend's shoulders. He's going to give him that massage if it's the last thing he does.

Part 2 of Piece by Piece series. (previous one HERE)

You can also read it HERE.

Taking care of Steve Harrington was proving more difficult than Eddie had anticipated. Ever since Steve's caring side reared its pretty head with the intent to ensure Eddie wouldn't die of malnutrition or diabetes and they had the talk in which Eddie agreed to eat normal food and Steve promised to have some of his injuries and painful body parts looked at, they lived in a delicate balance. Eddie passive-aggressively munched on pre-cut fruit and vegetables, only to announce "that's it, I kept my side of the deal, now show me that cut, Harrington." Steve would ask Eddie to check a sore spot on his side, letting him treat the scars that wouldn't heal as quickly as the others, and then resolutely shoved an apple in Eddie's hand. It worked, they were both getting what they wanted, except for one thing. The bloody promised massage. Steve's back was still a mess and Eddie was running out of patience.

Not that he would have ever had in his wildest dreams imagined touching the bare skin of the former King and all that (not without significantly improving his sprinting, evasion and subsequent camouflage for the rest of the school year), but life somehow wrapped Steve in a lovely bow and sent him Eddie's way, as if to apologize for the minor murder charges/bat mauling/messed up resurrection fiasco. As grateful and elated as Eddie was (constantly, 24/7 baby, 1986 really had been his year in this regard), Steve didn't come with a manual and Eddie was finding out very fast that his lovable ex-jock was prone to attempted self-destruction every two to three business days, sometimes on weekends and holidays too if he was feeling special (hint: always). The irresistible combination of brave, hot and stupid was suddenly way more concerning when he had the first hand chance to realize that Steve didn't even have the common courtesy to say "hey, I'm about to do something stupid that might get me killed!" as the kids often did (in different words but with the same meaning), he just went ahead and threw himself into danger. Again. And again. And again and again and again.

It wasn't that Eddie didn't appreciate Steve's chivalrous nature, he truly was his knight in shining armor, but he would honestly much rather get punched by some of Hawkins' finest vigilantes once, twice, or any number of times really to ensure that Steve wouldn't get pushed around, hit or worse for trying to protect him. It didn't happen often, fortunately enough, but it still did. And whenever they finally got home, Eddie almost tripping on the stairs to get the first aid kit and treating Steve's wounds, begging him, pleading with him to please not do this again, it's not worth it, he isn't worth it, Steve would just smile at him through his bloodied lips and simply say: "It's not your choice if you're worth it. It's not up for debate." And fuck that, fuck this and fuck that whole happy expression that screamed I'm so glad you're safe Eddie, don't mind my broken lip, don't mind the bruise, you're okay and that's all that matters. How was he supposed to argue against that? He just muttered "You get hurt one more time Harrington, one more time and I'm searching this whole stupid town to find Hello Kitty band-aids to stick on your stupidly pretty face whenever you get stupid ideas like this" and hoped, hoped so strongly, that Steve would listen to him for once, that he would get to keep him around longer and in one piece.

The massage agreement was a very desperate effort to at least give Steve something back, to take care of him for once. But getting Steve to agree to something and actually having him do it were two completely different things. As soon as the topic of the promised massage came up in their conversation, Steve assured Eddie that he was indeed looking forward to it, but really, if Eddie had something better to do, that was absolutely fine, the (terrifyingly familiar, nope, not going there, not thinking of her lifeless gaze, her stiff shoulders, what happened right after, back to Steve!) crunching sounds of his spine were absolutely normal, they never caused him any issues or pain and really, Eddie worried too much (all the snorts in the world couldn't unite in the supersnort Eddie gave at that proclamation. The nerve of this man). As if Eddie hadn't seen his careful stretching in the morning, time and time again, when Steve thought Eddie was still asleep in their bed. As if he couldn't hear the muffled grunt of pain when he touched certain parts of his body, or how Steve rubbed his neck more than seemed normal, or when he sometimes had trouble focusing on letters and played it off as a joke, that of course he can't read fine print, he's the pretty and stupid one of the group, hahaha. Eddie wanted to punch every single person who ever convinced Steve that feeling pain and ignoring his health was normal. And if Steve was the one who convinced himself, well. Then Eddie would have to punch him because he's a man who sticks to his principles. And then he'd kiss it better.

So yes, Eddie learned soon enough that Steve would find every single loophole that would allow him to escape his care. Which had led him to this point - grabbing Steve's hand, dragging him to their bedroom and pointing at the bed. "You're getting the massage now, Harrington, and I'm not hearing any response that isn't yes." But even when Steve is under him, just in his underwear and Eddie is spreading a massage lotion over his fingers, heating it up, when he kneads those stiff muscles, something isn't right. Steve is doing his best to do as Eddie asked, tries to lie still, but he is fidgety, tense, and Eddie is getting worried that he might unintentionally hurt him if they keep this up. And it's so, so frustrating, because he could see Steve was hurting, he had him right there, so obedient, but he couldn't do it right. The helplessness rose into his throat and threatened to choke him. He really tried to keep quiet, to focus on Steve and nothing else, but Eddie's mouth had a mind of its own.

When Steve's muscles tensed against Eddie's fingers again, but he stubbornly pretended that it's all good, it's how his muscles are, Eddie could continue, he just lost it. "I love you, you know. I may not say it enough, but...I hope you know that." Shushing Steve's attempt at a response and rubbing between his shoulder blades, he continued. "Please, just...just listen, okay? That way you feel about others, always protecting them...us...that is amazing, Steve. But have you ever thought that maybe, just maybe we might feel the same?" His voice was more strained now and he was praying that Steve would mistake the change in tone for physical effort. The massive knot in his back wasn't helping either. "But none of us are strong enough to do that. To stop others from harming you. Hell," he chuckled and nope, his hands weren't shaking at all, or maybe it was just the physical effort again, yep, that's it, "hell, we can't even protect you from yourself. I can't even...I can't even keep myself safe so that you don't have to keep rushing to my rescue and...and..."

Shit, he couldn't do it. He had it all planned, well, not for this moment and as much as his racing brain allowed, but instead of explaining to Steve how he could never protect others if he destroyed himself in the process, by appealing to his common sense, he just sat there, straddling Steve's lower back and mindlessly stroking all those scars that should have never been there, not for anyone, especially not for him. Steve's shoulders twitched when one traitorous tear fell between his shoulders and oh no, he was shifting, turning around and Eddie's eyes wouldn't fucking stop watering. He crouched down, fully lying on his boyfriend's chest and breathing a silent prayer to any gods who might be listening that Steve hadn't seen his expression. By the gentle hands stroking his back and tangling in his hair, he guessed that prayer wasn't heard.

"Eddie. I don't- it's what I always tell you. You are worth all of this and more to me. You're worth everything."

"That's not the point , Steve! Can you...can you imagine what it's like, seeing someone you love jumping in harm's way for your sake, again and again and just...being fucking terrified of the possibility that this might be the final straw, that thing which will take them away from you? Can you imagine just feeling good and grateful if I graciously decided to die for your safety?" He stopped himself, biting his lip. Perhaps more than he had to, but man. If that sentence wasn't stupid, with all that had happened. "Don't-don't answer that. Please. Sorry. Thank you. What I mean is...I really, really want to keep you around for longer. Long. Very long. As long as you'll have me. And I can't bear the thought of that not happening...because of me. Saving the world, well, sure, that seemed like a good priority, but...it's got to be both of us, baby."

The gentle combing through his hair wasn't stopping, strand by strand, and Eddie allowed himself to relax into Steve, finally getting his breathing under control. In his whole life, he found being still very difficult, well, nearly impossible, he always had to be on the move, wild gestures, jumping on tables, pacing and all that, but somehow, Steve managed to do what any arguments, persuasion or yelling couldn't. What a thought.

"I'm sorry."

Eddie thought for a moment that maybe he imagined it, but nope, Steve definitely said that. Pushing by his knees, he moved next to Steve, not breaking their embrace but just changing the level so he could actually see him. Stroking his face and tracing the moles on the cheeks with fingertips, he smiled. "What a man. You even apologize for saving my ass all the time and getting punched when doing that."

Steve smiled back, but very briefly. He bit his lip and Eddie was very, very tempted to just abandon this whole conversation because what business could Steve have biting his lips? That was Eddie's job! And then he shifted his gaze to the left. Eddie wondered for a split second if he lost Steve's attention, but it was still on him, just - again - his hair and the fingers stroking them. And not that he was a snob or something, but whenever Steve gave him this sort of attention, Eddie swore on all the gods and his guitar that he would get a proper conditioner or something, that if Steve loved his hair so much, it should be bloody worth it (he might have gotten a new shampoo promising to tackle the whole frizzy situation and it hadn't done shit, except for the next time that Steve came behind Eddie and sneaked his hands around his waist, burying his nose into Eddie's curls, he sighed like he was experiencing something special, not just the untamed beast that was Eddie's hair, and muttered "you smell like strawberries. It's nice" and that didn't start Eddie on a quest to figure out all the scents that Steve liked and getting a shampoo selection worthy of his fine nose, well...).

But then Steve spoke up again and that had Eddie abandoning the whole hair train of thought (hair of thought?). "I guess I never...I never saw it this way," Steve admitted in a low voice, still hypnotizing Eddie's curls instead of meeting his eyes. "I never wanted to make you worry, Eddie, I just...it never seemed that important."

"Steve." Eddie raised his other hand and shimmied closer, taking Steve's face in his palms. "There is literally no one more important than you. How could you think for a second it didn't matter if you got hurt?"

The chuckle that came out of Steve's throat got muffled by a peck on his lips, careful, as if he would shatter if Eddie wasn't gentle enough. "No one? Did I finally beat your guitar?"

"Cheeky bastard. For your information, you share the first spot. Don't let it get into your head. It's difficult to decide, you're both drop dead gorgeous and make the most delicious sounds," Eddie nudged Steve's side and enjoyed the moment of shared laughter before getting serious again. "Really, Steve. Why would you think that?"

More biting then, except not just his lips, but also chewing his cheeks and Eddie didn't have to be a psychologist to see that this was a whole new can of worms. "I..." the words got stuck in his throat and Eddie gently took his hands and moved them back to his hair, with a gentle sound of encouragement. That seemed to calm Steve down a bit. "It isn't that I don't think you care, Eddie. It's just that my parents," and oof, the tone makes it sound like an insult (and rightfully so, Eddie isn't a vengeful person but moments like these have him fantasizing of many, many things that the Harringtons deserve, and he has a rich imagination), "my parents never made any fuss about...you know. Me sometimes not coming home completely okay."

Eddie gave a disapproving "tsk" and returned his attention to Steve's moles and freckles. Apparently keeping an eye contact wasn't adding to Steve's peace of mind and...while those amber eyes were always on Eddie's mind, Steve's marks were close second. He could write serenades about them, create a whole campaign about navigating them, if he was willing to share (which he wasn't). Steve's skin was a like a whole new galaxy, just for Eddie to explore. "I know they have the habit to fuck off whenever," he mumbled against Steve's cheek, "so I'm not surprised they didn't take you to a doctor for...all of that. Jesus, Steve, I wish I knew back then, that it wasn't some jock fights or brokenhearted boyfriends. I would have dragged you to the hospital myself."

"I'm sure you would have," and oh, the brief press of lips on his forehead made Eddie's eyes swell with tears again. Not helping. "But it wasn't just the Upside Down stuff. It has...um...sort of always been like that?" Steve's chuckle sounded bitter and resigned at the same time and Eddie was a second away from bursting out the door, gathering the local pigeons and training them as his personal army to shit on the Harringtons' coats, car and preferably faces whenever they had the gall to show up in Hawkins. "I can't remember them ever taking me to a doctor, a hospital or even just putting a band-aid on something."

Eddie's breath hitched. "Not even when you were a kid? Jesus, Stevie! Even...even my shitty dad did that for me."

"Um." Steve's hand left his hair for a moment to massage his temples, his brow furrowed in concentration. "Actually, once. I was what, six or seven? I was running in the street, you know, a normal kid thing, when I tripped and scraped my knee. It wasn't that bad, it was just bleeding a lot, but I was freaking out. My mom took me inside and helped me clean the wound, when he...my dad, he showed up and caused a fucking scene about it. Apparently I was making him look bad." Scratch the pigeon plan, he would train a fucking eagle squad. "It looked like it might need a few stitches, but he forbade my mom from taking me to a doctor. He said that they would look like neglectful parents for letting me get hurt. And whenever I came back later, you know, after sports or fights, he would just look at me with that...that empty, disgusted look and remind me how my mistakes affected his reputation. So...I just did my damn best to hide all that."

"How..." Eddie gasped out, "how do you even hide that? I saw your face, man. After the Russians, after Jonathan, how the fuck did you hide that?"

"Well, they weren't home for most of that. And if they were, I just left them a note that I'm invited to a party or something, left and took my car. They never stay long, so it was just a night or two. It usually got a bit better then. At least the puffiness and color. You okay, Eddie? You...you are breathing kind of weird." Just like Steve, to be worried about him when he was casually talking about years of neglect, as if it was a funny party story.

Eddie fisted his hand in the pillow under Steve's head and, with great difficulty, unclenched his teeth. "I'm just trying to figure out what job would pay enough to allow me hire a hitman," he muttered, squeezing the pillow even harder. "Just...what the fuck, man?! Is that why you think you don't matter? Because you never mattered to them?"

"I don't- I don't think that. I just don't think about it at all," Steve admitted quietly. "And I don't hate it when you...take care of me. It's just not something I'm used to and I feel like I should be doing something. I don't know what. But I do hate that I'm making you worry about me, because you have enough shit to deal with. I just want you to be happy, that's all I've ever wanted."

"Oh, Steve." The words that rolled from his lips were soft and unguarded. Eddie had heard enough, but if he thought that understanding would make it better, boy, was he wrong. He could let so many things go, resigning himself to the knowledge he'd never be able to change things, but now his heart was breaking for Steve, as corny and cliche as it sounded. He climbed up and flipped them around, burying Steve's back in the mattress. He marveled at how Steve, much stronger than himself, never resisted, never complained, he just went along with whatever position Eddie craved. In more ways than one. He was looking up at Eddie now, lips parted, waiting. Eddie cupped his cheek and Steve leaned into it, absorbing the gentle touch as if it was the only thing that ever mattered. "It's you that makes me happy. All the time. Even when you play your crap music or when you shove vegetables down my throat, no innuendo there, I'm the happiest I've been in my whole life. And it's scary as fuck. I've never thought I'd have anything like this, hell, some days I still have to pinch myself. I can't help it but think sometimes that this is just a giant joke that the fate played on me or something, that I got to have you, got to have everything I've ever wanted, just to have it taken away. But when you let me care of you, I..." he bit his cheek, but kept his eyes on Steve's because he deserved to hear it. "I feel like I'm actually doing something to keep this. You. That I'm not just accepting what life gives me, but I'm actually reaching out, chasing it. You're it for me Steve, and don't blame me if I'm ready to do everything in this world to keep you, healthy, happy, all that." And shit, he let his mouth run wild again, that was a lot to swallow even for himself, not to mention anyone else, but Steve was listening intently, gaze hanging on Eddie's lips for every word and Eddie's heart feels like it's going to burst out of his chest. The traitor.

And then there's a hand on his cheek too, mirroring his, and Steve pulls him closer and his eyes are so vibrant, so beautiful. "I get it," he whispers and kisses the wrinkles leading to Eddie's temples. "I think I sort of feel the same, so I...I will try. I still don't know how to make myself more relaxed, but I'll figure something out."

Eddie kisses him then, deep and grateful, and he grins at the twitch Steve's body gives when he presses against him. "Good. Although now that I think about it...maybe I went about it the wrong way?" Seeing Steve's confusion, he trailed his calloused fingers over his boyfriend's chest and reveled in the sharp gasp it elicited. "What I mean is, maybe you don't need to relax during the thing. Maybe you just need to be relaxed beforehand."

"I don't see how that's easier," Steve muttered.

And Eddie felt the familiar wolfish grin tugging at his lips, because this might actually be it, he might have finally cracked one of the key sections of the enigma that is Steve Harrington. Steve who wore his heart on his sleeve, but whose mind and body refused to follow the lead of their honest owner. "Then what about I show you exactly what I mean, baby?" he said and disentangled himself from their embrace to flip Steve on his stomach again.

Turns out, his idea was correct. Because when Eddie's long fingers were taking Steve apart, inch by inch, slowly and with unbreakable focus, Steve's tension gradually went away. He was rutting into a pillow that Eddie had placed under his hips, pushing against Eddie's hand and gasping out incoherent words, only sometimes muttering "please" and "Eddie" as a prayer. Despite those extra years in high school, Eddie was a fast learner. He had months to learn Steve and his triggers, what made him writhe and grasp sheets like a drowning man, and he'd be damned if he didn't use all that knowledge to its fullest. Steve was the patient one in bed, always taking his time with Eddie, and Eddie now finally got what was so great about it, found it intoxicating to be the one holding all the cards. When Steve got too impatient, too lost in it, he would just shush him, still his hand and kiss that strong back until Steve's grip loosened, until he laid himself down and whined "I'm relaxed, I swear I am, for god's sake, Eddie!"

Between the twists of his fingers and gentle coaxing, Eddie lost track of time and he was pretty sure Steve couldn't remember the day of the week or even the month once he was done with him. Steve was lying on his stomach, breathing heavily and too spent to move. Eddie carefully removed his fingers, leaning down to kiss Steve's back and removing the soiled pillow. He absentmindedly wiped his hand on it. "That's it, Stevie," he whispered against his nape and reached for the abandoned massage lotion. "Just stay as you are." He shushed Steve's muttered complaints about not being able to return the favor and finally got to those stubborn muscles which were now too tired to resist. Steve hummed against the mattress but made no effort to resist and Eddie found himself grinning like an idiot.

Much later, when he had cleaned Steve and moved closer to get some well-deserved rest, Steve's lips moved, half-asleep. "Eddie?"

He wrapped his arms around Steve's middle. "Yes, love?"

"This was...so nice. I really liked it." He went quiet for a moment and Eddie thought maybe he was already asleep, but then: "I'm still keeping our deal though. You're getting a healthy lunch tomorrow."

Eddie groaned and buried his face in Steve's shoulder. "The things I do for love."

#steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie fanfiction #strangerthings #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #strangerthingsfanfiction #piece by piece #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #established relationship #romance #healing #fluff #hurt and comfort #ahem and a bit of smut at the end #because I can?

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eorzeashan · 1 year

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An Echani Among the Chiss

Raina: Sir, I've received an update from Aristocra Saganu.

Don't they look like twins here?

I apologize for plowing through the entire intro of the Traitor Arc just to get to Copero, but we'll get back to that later-- plus I discovered to my ultimate delight that Eight could wear Raina's clothes, so now he has a new outfit.

It's really fitting he gets to wear this given that he's also an adoptive/loyal to House Miurani even before the canonical events of the Agent story, so I like to think he finally caves into working for the Ascendancy at some point now that he's free of Alliance obligations.

Also, the minute he stepped into Chiss space would have the Aristocra (and Nosta whether she's his wife or ex-wife in this timeline or not) going GET HIM and forcibly dragging him into abandoning service to other powers to be with them, lol. ('Work for the Ascendancy. Your abilities are wasted on an uncaring empire and a republic that will not forgive you.' "I thought the Chiss cared little for outsiders.' "Our House more than considers you the exception for all that you've done. Now come; afternoon tea is waiting." '*Long sigh*')

House Miurani does not forget its debts. I think Eight would actually have a healthy time under their wing; the Chiss are like a second home to him given his upbringing with Nosta, now a Lady of their house and he'd find quick work in training their officers in Echani combat.

Though I'd imagine he'd just trash entire groups of them to relish in them getting slowly more and more angry that an outsider could beat them so easily. ('Weak! Next!' *yet another Chiss officer getting thrown out the ring on their ass* "Ugh....he's just like Lady Nosta when she first got here....ruthless..")

Raina: The Ascendancy has announced they are mourning Syndic Zenta's untimely death. Officially, they condemn the Alliance for her assassination. But Saganu is grateful for how you handled the matter. Should you need it, the EDF stands ready to aid you-- privately.

Eight: Saganu had to save face somehow. As long as I have their support, let them say what they want.

Raina: The Aristocra appreciates your understanding.

He's always like this: resigned to taking the most blame and responsibility after a dirty kill, which is commonfare for assassinations all the while doing so for the sake of someone else. It's also incredibly ironic he's doing this for the Miurani again-- that always seems to be his role.

Reminds me of the alternate dialogue where you originally refuse the Aristocra's offer by saying "I won't be your personal assassin", yet that's exactly what he is here especially for these Chiss.

It is rather sad that Eight currently goes from one master to another doing the same exact things, but he does have family in the Chiss who know and want to treat him right after everything he's done for them, so I imagine they'd avoid using him so callously.

There was something incredibly cheeky about Saganu sending Raina out like "look, it's your and our outsider sister. now you won't be alone and you can see that we can take you in, too."

Unfortuately, it's a very good argument considering they're thick as thieves with both their similar backgrounds.

Still chuffed at their twinning here.

Lana: I assure you, Commander, no one sleeps until we discover where the traitor is headed.

Eight: I want to catch Theron as much as you, but you're working everyone too hard-- including yourself.

I haven't ironed out the specifics yet of the AU I have planned for the Traitor Arc, but Lana's vengeful anger towards it while Eight is like "man, who cares" is one of the reasons I don't headcanon him as chasing after Theron during it.

I'm toying with the idea that Theron takes him with and they both get up to dual-traitor shenanigans, but then comes the problem of House Miurani's hand in all of it and it might be more feasible to say Theron helped him ditch the Alliance in return for not stopping him while he sought sanctuary with the Chiss.

Anyways, final bonus images:

His Chiss service officer fit is supposed to come with headgear, but the cutscenes like taking it off. Also, I got the entire Ascendancy Soldier outfit, which is really nice! Will probably take screens for it in Nathema next time.

Saganu squeezed him into formal wear for once.

#swtor #traitor among the chiss #oc: orradiz #every person with even a crumb of chiss lore getting this flashpoint: YEAHHHHH

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ryo-maybe · 1 year

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@amratsu Now, if it was solely down to my own personal bias, I would have just put them in the original list and called it a day. However, my aim with the original reply was to avoid tripping into the trap of overwhelming a request for recs with way too many options, but also, first and foremost: I was asked which would be best to start off with. In retrospect, I could probably shuffle some entries from the second list into the original one, but I basically wanted to go with three of the best options based on certain specific criteria:

- Kuuga because it has the most cohesive vision from beginning to end. I would rate it the best, to the point that the one caveat that would have earned it a spot in the “check these out later if you ended up growing to like tokusatsu” are the dated visuals. It’s just an incredibly solid, tightly written show, not just tokusatsu-wise, and one which I think those who love analyzing the themes of a story would greatly appreciate.

- Ryuuki is one that, for one reason or another, has ended up as a beloved favorite of pretty much everyone I know, and for good reason. It’s a bold show, but way more accessible than Kuuga, and I think it would set the bar pretty high for one who just got into toku shows. It also suffers from dated visuals but at this point, if that’s such a pressing issue for a potential viewer, it would be hard to recommend any toku shows at all.

- Fourze, well, it’s just plain fun. I really can’t imagine anyone who wouldn’t enjoy the ride if they got into it. The setting being inspired by American school comedies would no doubt resonate with Western viewers in an endearing kind of way too, which definitely would help with the series’ accessibility.

I think I would go as far as considering these shows “quintessential”, in that together they form a trifecta that captures much of the charm and features of the Heisei-Reiwa Riders as a whole.

I think W would be the easiest to rec out of them, and I think the only reason I didn’t put it in the original list may be because its latter half didn’t leave as strong an impression on me, although it has been a long damn while since I last watched it.

OOO lives or dies by whether you love or hate Eiji and Ankh’s relationship.

Ex-Aid succeeds in a frankly impressive fashion in spite - or, hell, because - of the absurdity of its premise and has some truly amazing emotional beats, but I fear that it would be a Lot for a newcomer to the series, for one reason or another. I think most people would like it, but I have also heard there are some divisive opinions in the fandom as a whole about it? I don’t know, I personally loved it, but there you go.

Zero-One is one I wish so badly I could recommend nilly-willy, but I don’t know how it would feel for one to experience the latter half without the weekly buffer between episodes. Some people think Amatsu and the competition arc were the series’ low point, but if you ask me? They were both fine, barring the robot dog thing that’s part of the COVID phase anyway, so I can at least forgive that. My real problem with the series is that it fucking mishandled Yua so badly man, the payoff was satisfying but GOD did we sit through some ridiculous bullshit before that...

You might have noticed I hesitated to include Den-O in the list. I think it’s mostly due to the fact that Ryotaro’s personality might get to some people’s nerves, plus the story getting a bit awkwardly confusing at times. I definitely think it’s worth watching - it’s no wonder it’s one of the most popular Heisei series in the franchise - but I would hardly recommend it as part of one’s beginner course.

In the same vein, as much as I love Agito (which was my introduction to the series), which somehow managed to be incredibly good despite being written by Inoue, I think it simply has the misfortune of being sandwiched between Kuuga and Ryuuki, which are both way more likely to be palatable to a great number of people.

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kamyru · 1 year

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"You have OCD." (Shirayuki Kiba & Seiren Matsubara) (Shorts)

Author's note: I will write shorts like these as a way to show more of my OCs and their interactions with other characters, also @lovelovecorner 's OCs.

Words counting: 700

Seiren Matsubara could remember how one of her classmates said that she would never smoke because there was no way she would stay outside in the cold to take a puff. It would be funny to meet this classmate while she was doing what kept that woman away from this bad habit. Staying outside of Miyoshi Concepts at 6 PM while the wind was trying its best to move the raindrops enough to cool the artist's face wasn't anything people would die to try. However, it had a calming effect.

At the second puff, the glass door of the building opened. Seiren recognized the ex-skater and actual architect of the company as the person who exited. Shirayuki nodded her head in acknowledgment and stopped after the door closed. She could feel the smoke in the air. Taking a step to be parallel with Seiren, she looked at the road.

Firstly, she looked at the right, then at the left, again at the right, then at the left. And like this five times. She took a step way bigger than her usual steps and looked at her sides three times. However, this time, she also put her hair behind her ears, making the hearing aid visible.

It took her eight steps to reach the road. Then, she went back. It wasn't the first time Seiren saw Shirayuki doing this. However, it was for the first time something clicked in her mind. Before she could hide the fact that she eyed the architect the whole time, Shirayuki was already near her, at the point she started counting her steps.

"Can you give me a smoke?" Shirayuki asked without even sparing a look at Seiren.

At first, Seiren reflexively let her hand go toward her pocket. Then, she stopped midway and turned questioningly toward Shirayuki.

"You are a former athlete. Aren't you supposed to take care of your health?"

Shirayuki moved her weight on the outer part of her sole, then hit the ground with her toes. Meanwhile, her hands tried to find the right signs to express her feelings. After the signs stopped, she finally looked at Seiren.

"I don't think you're the one to talk," she said while closing her eyes. Her left hand touched the hearing aid in her left ear. Putting a strand of hair behind, she took a deep breath.

"You're not Ban or Maki. Being rude doesn't suit you," Seiren felt the urge to put her hand on the top of Shirayuki's head. Yet, the 6 cm difference didn't give her enough height privilege. She didn't even understand that she strongly hinted at the fact that she knew way more than someone who barely interacted with Miyoshi Concepts workers could.

"I have a hunch that something bad will happen to me today. If I don't smoke right now, which is a pretty bad thing if you ask me, then it will be something worse," Shirayuki's eyes traveled from her hands that tried hard to calm each other to the road. A car within the legal speed limit passed by them. The ex-athlete took a step back, enlarging the distance between her and the driveway. For a second, her left hand reached for Seiren's sleeve, which didn't go unnoticed by the artist.

"You have OCD." This came more as an affirmation than Seiren intended it to make, yet, she didn't stop. "Moreover, Kiba knows nothing about it, and you don't plan on telling him anything, does he?"

This time, Shirayuki took a step farther from Seiren. A hand with a cigarette in it shortened the distance between them. After the architect took in her 'bad omen' the same hand lightened it up. Finally, Shirayuki relaxed after taking the first puff.

"You don't seem to smoke for the first time," Seiren commented while putting out her cigarette.

"I didn't have the happiest childhood."

A whispered "relatable" caught Shirayuki's ears. She was sure that it was just her imagination. Her hearing aids weren't strong enough to register something so silent. When she looked at Seiren to confirm her theory, the artist was looking somewhere far away and nowhere at the same time.

The question remained unanswered.

#oops i said yes #kuranosuke kiba #shirayuki kiba #seiren matsubara #voltage inc #my ocs #lovelovecorner

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loominggaia · 1 year

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Anonymous asked:

Vampire anon. Just got some more things to say and ask. I love Ivy, she’s a bitch but atleast it seemed like she actually cared about Lillian to some degree. And seeing her put her creeper husband in his place, felt so good after reading one of the most uncomfortable, painful scene I’ve ever read in a piece of literature. I just can’t stand molestation or sexual assault scenes in general, and seeing Diarrhea Dusk somehow even more fucked up form of molestation made me wanna puke.

Also I’m pissed as hell at Alaine/ Glenvar and Lukus for their dragging Lillian into their hog hunting activities! This is the LAST thing she needs after escaping her life as diarrhea dusk sex slave/ punching bag/ & food lure. And I whole heartedly agree with a commenter in Pog Bait that Including Lillian in Hog hunting can only end in disaster. She’s very immature/ highly impressionable/ has no true conventions of her own/ and doesn’t really understand the world at all.

I totally feel you, Anon. I try to be tasteful about the way I write difficult scenes like that, like I don’t want to go into any more detail than necessary. But that doesn’t make it any easier to write or read, especially if you’re sensitive to those things. I don’t want to shy away from those dark subjects because that would feel...forced? Disingenuous? I don’t know, it wouldn’t feel honest to exclude it completely. Even though Looming Gaia is a fantasy world, I still want it to feel “real” and lifelike in its own context. The characters deal with the same things people in real life do, and I feel like that’s what makes them feel more alive.

BUT at the same time, I never want to write those subjects in a way that feels exploitive/masturbatory. And I don’t mean masturbatory in a strictly sexual sense, but in a “misery porn” sense, where characters suffer just for the sake of suffering. I hate that crap. If they suffer, I want it to make sense in the context of their situation and play a role in their future development.

All that said, I agree about Ivy too! She’s supremely fucked up in her own ways, but she’s practically a saint compared to Dario and the rest of the Dusks. Aunt Vivi didn’t seem so bad either, she was probably the nicest one in that castle. I have a feeling she didn’t subscribe to Dario’s cult-think and was probably just tagging along because she had no other choice. Aunt Mystique was definitely chugging Dario’s kool-aid by the pitcher though, and Cousin Dimitri was just a creepy little freak who was gunning to fill Dario’s shoes one day (and he probably would have eventually, if things went a little differently...). At least Lilian had 1 or 2 people in that household who were like...almost semi-normal. Kind of. I imagine their kindness went really far with her.

As for Alaine, Lukas, and Glenvar, they’re...doing their best. But oh god they are just so ignorant. They think they’re helping Lilian by teaching her to defend herself and “giving her confidence”, but they just don’t realize the extent of what she’s been through and how this might re-traumatize her. They’re vaguely aware that her ex-husband was a controlling dick who smacked her around, but only Zeffer knows that her situation was straight up horror-novel material. He tries to explain to them, but the FGG thinks he’s kind of nuts so they tend not to put much stock in what he says. Not like he’s equipped to help her either--he’s so fucked up he can’t even help himself. He knows she needs special care, but he doesn’t even know where to begin finding it.

Alaine thinks hog-hunting will help Lilian reclaim her sense of power the way it helped her. After all, both Alaine and Lilian were brainwashed and oppressed by tyrants. Likewise, Lukas knows that Lilian suffered sexual slavery just like he did, and Glenvar knows she was thrust into a world she wasn’t prepared for just like he was. Hunting “bad guys” makes them feel better, so why wouldn’t it help her?

That’s their logic, but little do they realize not everyone heals the same way and Lilian can’t just jump back on her feet like they did. Unlike them, she was never standing to begin with. She’s just barely beginning to learn that standing is an option.

Questions/Comments?

Lore Masterpost

#ask #askliterature #asklilian #askivy #askdario #askalaine #askglenvar #asklukas

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arcandoria · 2 years

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How does Drezen change post-game under Andrali's leadership once she's become a gold dragon?

Oh that's interesting to think about, ty Harps!

Andrali initially had planned to temporarily leave Drezen and the Crusade as soon the Worldwound was closed and all loose ends tied, but didn't imagine she'd find out to be pregnant at the Threshold so that massively changed her plans. There's also the fact that Lann can't just leave the mongrels, he's their chief after all.

She remains in Drezen throughout her pregnancy, making sure to establish a proper government and governor for the city and the region. With her ties as a dragoness, she attempts - and is considerably successful - to establish a rule composed of both Mendevian interests and receptive of the aid of the dragons. Galfrey, for all her respect towards Andrali, isn't exactly fond of the idea that she's bossing things around like this - but it's far beyond just the nobility's scope now that dragons are involved, and she knows that Andrali isn't attempting to take some sort of hold of the lands.

Drezen becomes a somewhat neutral fortress where people of all sorts know they will have safe haven. Dragons also see it as a stopping and meeting point, and many of the buildings are eventually adapted to support and welcome their particular interests. The biggest difficulty is to establish a force that will make sure misbehavers think otherwise than to attempt taking advantage of the sanctuary, but with so many dragons around and forces loyal to the woman that closed the Worldwound, it's not incredibly difficult. It flourishes as a trade hub exactly for that reason, though the established government does its best to guarantee that the traded goods remain as legal as possible. It's not a perfect system, and mendevian nobles in particular aren't fond of it, but this is the code which gold dragons live and none of them can attempt to overthrow it anyway.

Much like the area was once under Terendelev's protection, it is now under Andrali's. She does not directly rule Drezen, but the common folk inevitably look up to her for matters that are not simply city logistics, and count on her for protection. Halaseliax, part by his own intention and part by her request, decides to stay in Drezen permanently while so many people need healing and there's opportunity for ex-cultists to turn around, and often acts as her representative once she does leave the city (which is always temporary - neither she or Lann can stay away for too long due to their obligations).

#Andrali Kryhen #correspondence #camelliagwerm

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charbend · 2 days

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System Overflow Chapter 3

In the few moments before contact, he realized that thinking of it as a squirrel had been a rather hasty choice on his part. He could hardly be blamed for that, given the circumstances.

It wasn’t a squirrel, but it likely had been one at some point. Probably this morning. Possibly just before noon. Maybe it had stepped out for an early lunch, and got more than it bargained for.

Is this what that message talked about with terraforming? Frank thought dimly, as the once-squirrel bit his arm that he barely remembered raising. The clarity the pain brought helped him get a better look at the creature.

It had the same general shape of a squirrel, and would be easy to mistake for one at a distance. The proportions and the body were all wrong, however. Its snout had extended beyond the norm, and it had teeth protruding from its jaw at odd angles, a mess of snaggle-y spikes. Its spine was warped, and he watched in amazement and horror as it seemed to grow hard, calcified plates out of its back.

The poor, twisted creature let out a screech of pain as this happened, releasing its grip on his arm. He stepped back as it hit the ground, writhing. He made brief eye contact with it as it cried in distress.

His heart sank, but his body spun with adrenaline. “Ohh, I’m sorry about this buddy. I wish I could help you.” Without giving himself time to have doubts, he put the creature out of its misery.

Ding!

Warning! Unrefined aether absorbed. Unrefined aether is not suitable for living beings. Avoid coming into contact with sources of such aether, or contaminated creatures. It is advised to expel unrefined aether before reaching toxic levels.

Frank sighed. “Great. Another thing to worry about.” He glanced at the ex-squirrel, still releasing slight blue light into the air. “I’m sorry buddy. I would bury you, but that feels like a bad idea now. Besides, I have more pressing concerns right now.” With that said, and the surprise encounter bested, he made his way back into the office.

Tugging at the bandage on his arm, he tossed the first aid kit on his desk. Finding it had been fairly simple; the building was required to have first aid kits available and marked on their maps. It had always just been one of those things that you know, but never think about. He took a moment to thank everyone who’d ever pushed for safety regulations as he sat down.

“Okay, first order of business: see if I can reach my family.”

He slid open the drawer he put his phone in during work hours, and checked its charge. 73%. More than enough to call whoever he needed. Putting in his password, he quickly navigated through to his address book. With bated breath, he hit ‘Mom’.

As it rang, he couldn’t help but imagine his mom’s phone sitting on the freeway on the other side of the country, playing a song from her boyfriend's band, his name on the screen.

It rang.

And rang.

“The person you are trying to call cannot be reached right now. Feel free to leave a message after the beep.”

Frank paused for a few beats, disappointed. “Hey mom. I don’t know if you’re going to get this, but I just wanted to let you know I’m okay. If you can, please call, or leave a message. With everything going on, I don’t know how long I’ll be able to keep my phone going, but I promise to check regularly. Stay safe. I love you.”

He stared at his phone for a few seconds, almost hoping for a call to come through. None did. “Well, that leaves me right back where I was, plus a bit of disappointment. Alex is still living with mom, so I can probably expect about the same result.”

Nevertheless, he clicked on his sister's name. The phone rang a few times.

A robotic voice came through. “The number you have dialed is unable to be reached at this time. It may be off or out of service range. Please try again later.”

“Damn,” he sighed, tossing his phone on the desk. “What use is a phone if no one is around to call?”

Frank tapped idly on his desk. “Ok. I’m alone in the office. I can’t reach my family. I still need to find a way to meet people, and try to figure out this system stuff. But, first things first: Let’s get some supplies together.”

He pulled his backpack out from under his desk, and started packing up anything useful he could find. The first aid kit, of course. Some office supplies, for taking notes, and as much food as he could find in the office. Jason’s desk was, as expected, a treasure trove for supplies.

“Talking about squirrels… Man loved to hide snacks everywhere,” Frank muttered as he shoved a bag of jerky in his pack. “Chips, ramen, jerky… Won’t be clean eating, but at least it’s something.”

A quiet ping pulled his attention. He looked up from his position kneeling on the floor of Jason’s cubicle.

Ping!

It was coming from Jason’s headset. Curious, Frank put the headset on and woke the computer to see what was causing it. “Why is he getting browser notifications?”

He scrolled through Jason’s tabs, ignoring the ones he was familiar with. “Wait, is this- How’d he get around the firewall?” Frank clicked into the suspect page: Reddit, still live and, evidently, still populated with actual people.

There on the front page, pinned at the top was a post. “The end of the world: a megathread.”

Frank clapped his hands together reverentially. “Thank you, honored ancestors, for blessing my generation with social media. Let’s see here… ‘Where did everyone go?’ ‘What does it mean to be a [Native]?’ ‘What is this System?’- That’s the one.” He expanded the comment thread, eager to see what others had figured out.

There were a lot of opinions.

‘Checkmate atheists.’

‘Does this mean we live in a simulation?’

‘Aliens finally decided we were ready to join real civilization.’

And so on. There were a few people who had actually found ways to access some information and menus in the System, so he took notes on those.

‘... It’s unclear exactly how to raise these ‘stats’ so far, but likely training or acquiring and allocating the ‘aether’ mentioned in System notes would be a way to do so. Likewise with Skills and Spells.’

‘Actually, I know how you can pick up a few of those! I was in the library when everyone vanished, and a bunch of books are showing up as Skill-books now! I think there’s a limit to how many Skills you can get from books though… I only managed to get 3. Now I’m stuck with [Beekeeping], [Charcuterie], and [Tactics] =(‘

‘Also, I’ve seen a few weird looking animals… Do you think we can get aether from them?’

Frank quickly responded to that comment. “Definitely do not go after the blue ones. The System doesn’t like when you pick up the aether they have, for some reason.”

Almost as soon as he posted it, someone replied. ‘Lots of animals are getting aggressive. It’s very dangerous to go outside. Definitely stay away from the blue ones, but they’re all bad right now.’

Well. Not great news, but he’d managed to warn people. Good deed done, he leaned back, looking over his notepad. He now had some information on how to navigate his new HUD, pulling up menus in the System that quantified how the System viewed him. Stats, Skills, Spells, and the like. There wasn’t much of interest for him there yet.

“Actually…” He stood, walking around toward Sanjay’s cubicle, “I’m pretty sure he had a book in here somewhere…” After opening a few drawers, he found it. A worn and bookmarked copy of Programming for Dummies.

As soon as he touched it, a notice popped up.

Consume Skill-book to learn [Programming]?

Y/N

Error! Skill [Programming] incompatible with System implementation.

Generalizing Skill…

Consume Skill-book to learn [Enchanting]?

Y/N

He sucked in a breath. “Magic? Oh man, am I about to learn magic? Sanjay, wherever you are, thank you for being career motivated. I forgive you for being a bit prickly.” He turned back to the book. “Yes!”

Instantly, it burst into small, dense particles of white light that landed on him, absorbing into his skin. As soon as the last bit of light was gone, Frank felt a rush as the energy implanted itself in his being. “Huh.”

He tapped his chin, looking around. “I think I’ve got what I need to test this out around here… Let’s see…”

***

You can find this on Royal Road (https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/83902)

#litrpg #royalroad #webnovel #writing #progression fantasy #system overflow

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yeonchi · 11 days

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Kisekae Insights #50: Kamen Rider Zi-O Part 8: Background

After a month of non-stop typing in preparation, we have finally reached the end of this Kamen Rider Zi-O miniseries. In this instalment, not only will I be talking about the background to this series, I’ll also talk a little bit about the overarching Final Kamen Rider Chronicle along with the three Chronicle series broadcast from 2019 to 2021. At the end, there will be a song list of music featured in all three works.

Background to Zi-O and The Final Kamen Rider Chronicle

Kamen Rider Zi-O was created as part of The Final Kamen Rider Chronicle, an trilogy of Rider series alongside Ex-Aid and Build created in lieu of a fifth series for Three Kingdoms and Soulbound.

Each series was allocated 40 episodes of 45 minutes in length, making it the equivalent to 80 episodes in half-hour timeslots. This was the amount of time I gave the creators of the other two series’ adaptations for which to adapt the entirety of the series content, including the crossover winter movies, the traditional summer movie, the post-series V-Cinemas, the Hyper Battle DVDs and other web/media specials. Naturally, you can imagine what the other two teams felt when I announced After Quartzer. To be fair, though, Ex-Aid and Build haven’t had any other self-contained post-series specials and the Decade/Zi-O miniseries came out in 2021.

The Final Kamen Rider Chronicle was announced in June 2019 for broadcast in July 2020. Initially, it was delayed by a year due to the coronavirus lockdowns, but when the fourth lockdown hit, I decided to do away with the scheduling and let the creators release the series when they were ready. The fact that I intended this trilogy to be broadcast 5 times a week and I had started working full-time did not help things, as these delays were made worse by Soulbound Series 4 not being completed at the time.

One of the ideas I gave for Kamen Rider Build was multiple Build clones that mainly used the Best Matches of other territories. I don’t think I had other ideas for Ex-Aid though. Hey, remember that rumour where Ex-Aid’s Riders would be based on file extensions?

I started work on Zi-O in February 2022 after finishing Soulbound Series 4. I finished the main series in August, then took a brief break before completing After Quartzer from September to November. On a good day, I could work on three episodes, finishing off the first, completing a second and starting work on a third. When I got to the fourth part, that was a difficult schedule to keep due to the episodes largely being original. In fact, original episodes would always take longer to write. The episode that took me the longest to write was episode 33 at 18 days, as it was the start of a new status quo with the Quartzer trio. The special that took me the longest to write was Rainbow Rider Revolution at 38 days.

As I watched Zi-O during its original run, I knew that I wanted to adapt it eventually, being “Decade 2.0” as people called it. Like all non-Doctor Who series in my personal project, Zi-O is another egofest. In fact, it’s an egofest on a brand new level as I played Ohma Zi-O, Swartz and Hiroki Ichigo along with a bunch of Riders and characters. My twin brother played Sougo and the other Sougo, Takeru and Hikaru Azuma, but let’s face it, you might as well say that I played them. I originally played Parker Zhou and Hiroki’s prototypes before I decided to outsource them for the Moushouden Series; given how I ended up playing multiple characters again, fat lot of good that was.

Given that the series was produced by Shinichirō Shirakura and written by Kento Shimoyama, it had flaws that people had already seen in previous works. As such, my goal with the adaptation was to improve on them to the best of my ability, though I’m unable to guarantee that I managed to catch all of them or improve them sufficiently.

One thing I improved on in the first part was how the Another Riders worked and how their creation affected time. The erasure of the Riders’ history caused by the Another Riders being created early in their counterpart Riders’ timelines was seen as disrespectful and as such, this was improved on by removing the history erasure element and having the events of Zi-O be a continuation of the Legend Riders’ timelines. I also incorporated the W and Kuuga tributes into the main series to show Sougo’s acquisition of their Ridewatches, in a two-parter adapting Heisei Generations Forever.

The second part contained original episodes consisting of an adaptation of Kamen Rider Shinobi, a Ryuki tribute that also serves as a prequel to Sougo acquiring Zi-O II and a totally original episode featuring the other Sougo and Parker Zhou. The third part introduced Quartzer into the series as a new villain group, added an Amazons tribute, extended the Hibiki tribute to include a Magica tribute and made Kamen Rider Ginga’s appearance a full episode with two original Riders.

The finale arc of the original Zi-O was something I definitely wanted to improve on, due to it going back to the merging worlds plot already used in Decade. As such, the final three episodes were adapted at the end of the third part and the fourth part was adapted from the final episodes of Kamen Rider Zero-One. Initially, I didn’t intend on adapting the Over Quartzer movie and the movie Riders because of Showa elements, but I ended up adapting it in the end.

Hiryuu Kakogawa also felt underused during his appearances in the series. As such, Hiryuu joined Quartzer for the fourth part as I made the unprecedented move to adapt Zi-O’s final stage show for plot elements. A Facebook group I was in run by the people behind Genm Corp fansubs and the Henshin Fever fanpage posted a subtitled version of Build’s final stage show in 2019, making me realise that there was an untapped market for fansubs. I think other fansubbers and groups have caught on to this because more tokusatsu stage shows have been subbed since then.

Kamen Rider Tsukuyomi and Sougo as Ohma Zi-O appeared to be rushed out for the finale of the original, so Kamen Rider Tsukuyomi was introduced at the end of the third part while Ohma Zi-O was made into the Ark-One of the series.

In preparation for this series, certain Kamen Riders and power-ups were introduced earlier, more specifically in Soulbound Series 4, as a build-up and foreshadowing to this series. Of note, the Decade Beltmorpher X and Diend Gunmorpher X were introduced as upgrades given to Hiroki and Kayley after making a deal with Ohma Zi-O. Kamen Rider Aqua was also introduced before his appearance in Zi-O, even though he ended up being used in an original arc with his counterpart in the original series being replaced by Akihito Hayasaka as Kamen Rider Woz the Next.

The main portion of my personal project had concluded in Soulbound Series 4; Zi-O is both a continuation of the story for the Kamen Riders and a side story for everyone else. The events of this series take place in a separate timeline to the main universe as the main characters of the series are parallel isotopes; individuals whose timelines have been splintered by them being displaced from their own timelines. By the end of the series, the parallel isotopes are erased with the destruction of the timeline, however new versions of the main characters are created in a new timeline as shown in the After Quartzer specials.

Chronicle Series

Following the conclusion of Doctor Who, three weekly Chronicle series were commissioned. The Chronicle series follows the premise of Ultraman Retsuden and other Chronicle series in that they are mostly recaps and reruns of previous episodes.

Doctor Who: The Equestria Chronicles is the first such series, broadcast from July to December 2019. The series takes place during the events of the eighth season and follows Storm Dasher as he teaches the Young Six about the adventures of Doctor Whooves, the Pony Doctor and himself. Some special guests join Dasher’s classes/lectures as well, human, pony or Time Lord alike.

Ultraman: The Equestria Chronicles was broadcast from July to December 2020. This series consists of 6 mini-arcs that can be separated into individual series, covering the adventures of Storm Dasher as Ultraman Ginga, Spike as Ultraman Victory, and Danny Williams as Ultraman X, the latter being an adaptation of the original series. In hindsight I probably should have fleshed it out into a proper series myself, but this was for the best since my work on Soulbound Series 4 would occupy me for two years.

The Zhuge Family Chronicles was broadcast from January to June 2021 in preparation for The Final Kamen Rider Chronicle. This series follows Jee Gun, Sunset Shimmer, Copper Plume, Rally Flag, Starlight Glimmer and Sierra Nightingale as they learn about Hiroki Ichigo and his family, the Zhuge family, and their adventures at the Strawberry Academy. Being inspired by Ultraman Chronicle: ZERO & GEED, this series carries the classroom setting through to the end whereas the original had to abort it towards the end due to the pandemic. The series culminates in a final exam for the six students, which they pass with flying colours.

Music

Chronicle Series:

Doctor Who: The Equestria Chronicles: Hope the youth (opening)/ギンガローグ (Ginga Rogue, Japanese version of 沙漠駱駝, ending 1)/放浪 (Wandering, Japanese version of 狂浪, ending 2)

Ultraman: The Equestria Chronicles: MLP (USA parody, opening)/明年今日 (Japanese ver, ending 1), ねずみは米がすき (老鼠愛大米 Japanese ver, ending 2)

The Zhuge Family Chronicles: Heroes (opening)/Heart on Fire (ending 1)/ネバーマインド (ending 2)

Final Kamen Rider Chronicle:

Ex-Aid: EXCITE (opening)/愛のしるし (ending)

Build: Be The One (opening)/piece of truth (ending)

Zi-O: Over “Quartzer” (opening)/時の描片 ~トキノカケラ~ (ending)

Zi-O insert themes:

(character themes remain the same as from the original)

Episode 12 (Shinobi crossover): IZANAGI

Episode 21 (Agito tribute): BELIEVE YOURSELF

Episode 31 (Luna goes to the hot springs with the girls): Me Armastame Suplemist (Estonian song, title means “We Love Bathing”)

Episode 36 (Sougo regains his memories upon seeing 2012 Akari): Super Driver

Before Quartzer themes:

Zi-O and Decade: Ride the Wind -Zi-O Remix- (by Fuuta, opening)/Bright! our Future (ending)

The Other Zi-O Part 1: 流星ミラクル (opening)/CHOSEN SOLDIER (ending)

The Other Zi-O Part 2: ブルーバード (opening)/Winding Road (ending)

Geiz and Woz: M八七 (opening)/明日もし君が壊れても (ending)

After Quartzer themes:

Revenge of Quartzer: Sea Princesses opening theme/雷鳴 (opening)/Mirage Mirror (insert theme)/GAME CHANGER (ending)

Rainbow Rider Revolution: Equestria Girls opening theme/Brand New Day (opening)/咲いて (insert theme)/Fantasista～ファンタジスタ～ (ending)

The Game in the House of Death: INSIDE-OUT DECADE ver. (opening)/世界が終るまでは… (ending)

The Seven Sougos: INSIDE-OUT ZI-O ver. (opening)/You are the HERO (ending)

Post-series tributes:

Three Kingdoms: 若者のすべて

Soulbound: Message

Rider Chronicle: P.A.R.T.Y. ユニバース・フェスティバル

Personal project/Hiroki Ichigo: ドラマティック

And so we have reached the end of the Zi-O miniseries and with it, the fourth run of Kisekae Insights. We’ve gone through 20 instalments in 7 months, which is a little more than the first run’s pattern of 16 instalments in 6 months. I would have released the Zi-O miniseries over one month instead of two, but at this point I’m just buying time until the 1000th Post Special. I hope this makes up for the lackluster third run in 2022.

With My Little Pony, Gokaiger, Decade and Zi-O out of the way, all that’s really left for me to cover is Three Kingdoms and Soulbound (unless you want me to retread previous topics for content). Don’t expect the fifth run to come out until 2025; I’ve got enough on my plate at the moment with the upcoming Sea Princesses 20th Anniversary and Koei Warriors Retrospective.

If you’ve got any questions about anything in this series, feel free to contact me on Facebook or shoot me an ask or DM on Tumblr (anons disabled). Until the next run, I say.

#kisekae insights #kamen rider #kamen rider zi-o #kamen rider decade #my little pony #my little pony equestria girls #my little pony friendship is magic #doctor who #ultraman

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