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first-and-last-neocount · 2 years

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Whumptober Day 10

Busy day today, so bit of a late post, lol.

Here we have our first addition to the Altered Carbon fusion ‘verse. I’ve decided that this is not actually a chapter of Wake Me When I Die Again, because it’s set quite a while before that fic takes place - only fifteen years or so post-canon, in fact, where the main fic is taking place three hundred years after Crown of Shadows. I’ll have to come up with a series name, but this is basically a prequel timestamp; something we’ll be getting a few more of, as the month goes on.

And yes, this is the fic I was thinking of a couple weeks back, when I apologised to Damien in the tags of that post about torturing your blorbos. XD

Day 10 - Theme Chosen: Waterboarding

Damien jerked awake disoriented, his head aching. The red glow against his eyelids told him that whatever location he had found himself in was too brightly lit, and that he would only be blinded when he opened his eyes, so instead he tried to flex his arms and legs - to determine how injured he might be, beyond the throbbing in his skull, and if he was in any kind of shape to defend himself.

The attempt met with failure, and the bite of metal around his wrists, a similar resistance gripping his ankles. Damien felt a chill work down his spine, but before his spinning mind could grasp any other details of his situation, a voice spoke nearby.

“Ah, I see you’re awake. How wonderful. I’ve been so looking forward to this… reunion.”

Damien’s heart lodged in his throat.

He knew what he would find, but he slitted his eyes open anyway, finding the expected bright glare. He squinted against it, ignoring the sharp spike of pain that it caused, until his eyes adjusted enough to give him at least a blurry impression of the room; a stone-walled chamber, lit by flickering torches, windowless. Likely underground, judging by the damp tang of the air and the traces of moss growing between the stones of the far wall. Damien was lying on a table in the centre of the small room, shackled to the rough wooden surface - and the only other occupant that he could detect in the room was standing next to the table, smirking down at him, her features twisted in malevolent triumph.

Damien swallowed back the hate that welled in his throat, well aware that once he let that vitriol spill free, any chance of getting information would be gone.

“I’m surprised to see you here. I didn’t think you’d ever bow to the Church.”

“Oh, but I haven’t.” The girl couldn’t have been a day over seventeen, her features delicately pretty, almost elfin - but that was only on the surface. Behind her dark brown eyes was a spark of absolute insanity, a glimmer of cruelty honed by decades, if not centuries, of unbridled malice. “I am not one of their obedient servants, only an… ally, if you will. We have mutual interests, if not perfectly harmonious methods.” She reached out with one slim hand and stroked the side of Damien’s face, her long nails prickling unpleasantly against his skin. “I assist them when they request it, and in this case - well, when I heard they’d finally caught you, I could hardly pass up the opportunity.”

Damien’s skin crawled, but he tried to maintain an expressionless mask, unwilling to give her the satisfaction of his discomfort.

“I’m surprised you’d rather have this conversation with me than with Ciani.”

The girl hissed, and her nails dug in hard enough to draw blood from Damien’s jaw. He winced at the pain, but his heart leaped, a flicker of hope stirring in him at her rage. The girl drew her hand back, glaring at him venomously.

“Oh, very clever,” she spat, her lip curling. “Yes, your heroic endeavour succeeded, foolish though it was; she’s escaped our grasp, for now.”

She leaned down further over Damien, and the Envoy’s stomach turned over at the feel of her breath on his skin - the hot, coppery scent of blood.

“Don’t think you’ve won anything real, Vryce,” she purred, voice dropping back into its typical smooth cadence. “Your loremaster might have gotten away this time, but our hold over the human lands is solidifying as we speak - the bitch can’t hide from us for long. And when we find her, we’ll take great pleasure in teaching her the folly of opposing us.”

Damien knew he’d pay for it, but he couldn’t help the smirk that spread across his face.

“So, what are you calling yourself these days, now that you don’t have your citadel to be Master of?”

She slapped him. It wasn’t a very hard blow, her youthful body not up to delivering much power, but the path of her nails stung viciously where they’d scored his cheek and the bridge of his nose. Damien blinked his eyes open, having reflexively closed them, to find that look of offended rage on her face again. Even though he knew he might regret it, once she really laid into him, he couldn’t help but take a little petty satisfaction at knowing that her ego was still so fragile - and her temper so volatile.

“Gloat while you can, Vryce,” she sneered at him. “As it happens, you are correct; I’ve reverted to my birth name, at least for now. Corentine Bechard, Lady of Sheva - and likely more, once the Church reclaims the last of the lands you Envoys held.” A trace of smugness crept back into her expression. “Which, of course, will be much easier once you tell me exactly where your allies are hiding.”

Damien knew it was extremely unwise, but his self-preservation was weak these days, and if he was damned either way he might as well have his fun winding her up first.

He laughed.

“You want to go digging around in my head?” he asked, baring his teeth in an expression he knew was more snarl than smile. “Go right ahead. You won’t like what you find, though. The Hunter made our bond so much stronger before the end - you thought his power was unpleasant when you felt it last time, it will eat you alive now.”

To his disquiet, this time, Corentine did not lash out. In fact, she was smiling now herself, that eerie gleam of madness shining in her eyes once more.

“Oh, I’m well aware of that. The Church already tried to infiltrate your mind directly, while you were still unconscious,” she murmured, her voice gone low and thick with a relish that made nausea cramp in Damien’s gut again. “The Inquisitor was bleeding from the eyes when they dragged him away, I don’t doubt they’ll have to put the poor man out of his misery soon.”

Damien swallowed hard, his throat going dry at the anticipation in her eyes, but he tried not to let his voice waver.

“I don’t know how you plan on getting anything out of me, then. I’m not going to betray Ciani, you must know that already.”

“Oh, I know,” Corentine purred. “At least not willingly. That’s why we’re going to try some… more traditional methods of persuasion.”

She stepped away from the table, moving toward the side of the room where Damien assumed the door must be, above his head. He twisted his neck as far as he could, but the bonds were tight, and he couldn’t see her. His heightened hearing picked up the scrape of wood, though, and then a sound that made his blood run cold - the splash of water.

Corentine came back into view holding a wooden pail full of water, which she set on a small work table, a few inches away from the much larger table that Damien was tied to. Her smile would have looked sweet, if not for the deranged light in her eyes.

“I hear you have a particular distaste for water. We’re going to explore that first. Do try to keep your wits about you, the Healer isn’t expected to join us for another half hour or so, and it would be so tiresome to have to fetch him early.”

Damien watched her pick up a piece of woollen cloth from the work table and tried not to let himself tremble the way he wanted to.

“You seem pretty sure of that information,” he said, tongue starting to feel numb in his mouth. He’d seen Hell once before, and this wasn’t it - but it was going to be close.

“Oh, I am, very sure,” Corentine murmured, folding the cloth over itself once. “Ephialtes has proven extremely reliable in these matters. And of course, in this particular instance, he has the benefit of first-hand knowledge.” Damien felt his eyes widen, but before he could speak, Corentine was draping the layered fabric across his face. “I have no doubt his recommendations will once again prove useful.”

Damien couldn’t keep himself still any longer, and started to struggle against his bonds despite the clear futility of it, when he heard the sloshing sound as Corentine picked up the bucket once more.

“And if this doesn’t do the trick, well.” Corentine Bechard, the woman who had once terrorized an entire species as the Master of Lema, sounded almost hungry.

“We’ll have plenty of time to try other methods.”

#whumptober2022 #no.10 #Waterboarding #coldfire trilogy #fic #torture #restraint #damien vryce #the neocount writes

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sobsicles · 3 years

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so like, how are they gonna end it? with mary burning on the ceiling?

#literally no one wanted this #and before you say 'oh im actually looking forward to it' or "oh im definitely happy about it' or 'well some people are excited'#that's. that's not what i meant #i meant literally NO ONE asked for this.#like absolutely no one was like. ah yes i would like a prequel! oh about the shitty parenting no less!!!#while a lot of people were over here waiting on the reboot to fix destiel and the mistakes of the show #i was ovee here secretly begging mr. jackles to make something of the wayward girls spin off.#so you mean to tell me we cant have more of jody and donna and claire and kaia and patience and alex????#OUTRAGE! RIOTS!! ANARCHY!!!#anyways seriously what are they gonna do? end it with mary burning on the ceiling? okay lmao #sobs says things

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dreamlandcreations · 2 years

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Encore

Alfie Solomons x Opera Singer!Reader

Summary: Tommy is writing that final act for Alfie and you happen to be a part of it...

Warnings (but mostly just ramblings): fem reader is Italian, she has a past with our favourite Jew, my Italian is even worse than my English and I'm not doing google translate so bold+italic text means "in Italian", also I kinda skipped most of season 5 so I might have missed some important canon stuff, only allusions to smutty times (sorry), might make a prequel with the backstory I made up for this, it got a little sad at the end but it's an open ending... so who knows?

P.S.: this is 100% @misselsbells06's fault 🤗 (although I'm pretty sure this is not what you had in mind)

Tommy convinced Alfie to leave his hiding place, that the latter insisted it wasn't that at all. You were to meet at the Shelby estate.

Even the servants weren't allowed to know this meeting would take place so you agreed to arrive at night and stay until the early morning. Ada and Alfie were the only ones who were involved.

The three of them had been waiting for you in tense silence before Alfie decided to take a break from quietly scrutinizing every inch of Tommy's office.

"So who is this unfortunate bloke who will put their neck on the line for you?" He didn't want to know the details before but he was getting more involved and Alfie never went into battle unprepared.

"It's a woman." Tommy's short answer got Ada snickering.

"Oh, Tommy Shelby is going to solve his problems with his cock again!" She guessed.

"Not exactly." He was determined to not go into detail about the incident when he tried to seduce you.

"You already tried?" Ada asks the question but everyone in the room is just as eager to know the answer, that now involving you too as you were waiting by the door. Tommy gives her a stern look and turns to the Jew instead.

"She's in close relation to those big fucks you were educating me about, Alfie." He explains cryptically and Alfie doesn't like the feeling that takes over at his suspicion.

"What did she do, Tommy boy, when you made a move?"

"I laughed." You answer quickly, making your presence known. "Oh, it was such a fun night, it's been so long since laughter brought me to tears."

You walked inside and stopped before Tommy to smile at him like it's the re-play of said night. Alfie breaks the moment, gaining your attention completely.

"Ah, fuck me. You bring 'ere a fuckin' siren, right, to lure me to my death, yeah? Is that my final act, Thomas? Maybe you should just shoot me again, with a better aim this time, if it's not too much to ask."

When he's done you make your way to him, pretending to be confident when, in fact, you were on the verge of a breakdown as meeting him again not only made him nervous but scared the hell out of you.

"And you call me drama queen?" When you see that you managed to lighten his mood, you step closer and brush your hands along his cheeks, taking him all in like he's an intricate work of art.

"Hideous, innit?" Oh, yes, the scar. You didn't even notice it anymore, to be honest. His presence, as a whole just simply overtaking every sense in you and you'd preferably melt into him in a passionate embrace and forget the world existed.

His unusual vulnerability twists your stomach so you try to ease both of your concerns.

"Absolutely. I always get the urge to shave off this monstrosity whenever I see it." You say, tugging at his beard and pulling your lips to a teasing smile.

"I missed you." You confess when his hands find your waist and keep you in place before you could take a step back.

"You will not play this part, sweetheart. Go back to your stage."

You can't help the tiny smile that sneaks on you with the memories of your better days together. When you were teaching him Italian and laughed at his accent. How he refused to speak Chinese even though he quickly gathered enough to understand the basics and the way he would talk to you in Russian or Yiddish in turn still makes you tremble with want.

Giving up the stage, what made it possible for you to be independent, was not an easy choice but you didn't regret it because you wanted to be with him after he was injured.

Those days, when he was feeling better and indulging in domestic life with you, were the best days of your life. And that's why now his words hurt more than you could ever express.

"You've lost your right to have a say in my life."

Thinking that you've concluded your argument you spin back to the Shelby siblings who try to catch up with the turn of events but the cruel man behind you doesn't want to let you go.

"What if I want it back?" Not knowing how to respond, you simply chose not to. At that moment Tommy seems to find his voice.

"How do you know each other?"

"That matters because... ?" You were waiting for him to elaborate and at the same time providing the answer for him.

"It doesn't. If it won't be a problem for you." He says, eyes still flicking between you two.

"Of course, not."

You listen as they tell you how you'll be involved in the plan. You'll be the star of the event that Tommy will organize. Your fame will ensure the right guests arrive.

Alfie objected every time the plan even remotely put you in danger so the conversation halted several times before one of you came up with an alternative or argued with him about the necessity of that part of the plan.

It was well into the night when you settled everything.

You knew you would end up in bed with him the moment you realised he was here but that didn't make your worries disappear.

As you were half-lying on him, in a foreign room, drawing patterns on his naked chest after your exhausting reunion and enjoying the way he returns your light caresses, you gather the courage to voice your fears.

"Will you push me away again?"

Your answer is silence, and you think this is his way of saying yes but he finally lets you know what's on his mind.

"Why would you want to be stuck with an old man who got death looming over him, hmm?"

You refuse to go into that argument again so you try something else this time.

"The matters of the heart don't have to make sense."

"The world will always be against us, shiksa."

That nickname brings back memories too, about how he refused to tell you what it meant and how he had to explain what he meant by it when you finally found out its meaning.

"If the world is against us, let's hide away from it."

"I will not run from war, treacle."

"Not even for me." Once it was a question. Not anymore.

The discussion is an echo of what you had in the past. It always ended the same way but the cruel part of you, the part that was once filled with hope and love, the part that he repeatedly hurt by giving up on you, again and again, it was compelling you to tell him that he has no business or power anymore so his old excuses wouldn't stand anymore. His war is over and he lost almost everything.

The words are on the tip of your tongue but you bite your lip and hold it down, wanting to enjoy this probably fleeting moment while it lasts and you would foolishly hold onto the hope he always gives you.

"Let's worry 'bout 'morrow when the morning comes, yeah?" He murmurs against your skin after he pulls you closer, like he's afraid you'll be gone before the morning. Right, like you would ever leave his side on your own accord.

It's funny, how he calls you a siren but in truth, he's the one who can lure you in every time, then he leaves you stranded with the loss and the thoughts of 'what could have been'.

You tried to move on, you truly did but it seems he ruined you for anyone else as you were always comparing them to him and you could tell by the first conversation they failed to meet the standards. So you just wait until fate makes you cross paths with him again and start the whole dance all over, meanwhile waiting for the inevitable fall when he drops you.

#alfie solomons #alfie solomons x you #alfie solomons x reader #Alfie Solomons x Opera Singer!Reader #🔥#⚡#🧸#my stuff #my fics

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deeranger · 2 years

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Hello I just wanted to randomly pop into your inbox to tell you that I am absolutely in love with your blog and your work! My personal faves have to be Anonymous Devotion and Making The Cut because I’m a slut for good Sam content especially when it involves his beautiful hair lmaoo. I personally believe that Dean would have an even bigger love/fascination/possible fetish for his baby brother’s hair than Sam’s stalker though 👀. I could see Dean playing out a kinky scene similar to Sam’s prior run ins with his stalker as a way to replace any bad memories sam could still have. And also for Dean to even out Sam’s uneven locks of hair and perhaps start his own collection of his baby’s hair(?). I digress hahaha I hope your holidays have been wonderful and I wish you the best for the upcoming new year!

Eeeep!!!! 😮

Thank you so, so much for this lovely ask, dear nonnie! It truly made my day!! ❤️ I'm beyond thrilled to hear that the content I make is actually appreciated! Woot! *Grins from ear to ear like a mad woman*

Oh, and Sam's hair! Yes!!!! All of the fucking yes! That luscious mane is magnificent and should be worshipped!!! No doubt about it! Because no matter which version, Sam's hair is always glorious. So, ahem, *clears throat*, allow me to present some evidence, your honor....

There's the soft, windy version:

And the flippy version:

The sleepy, tussled version:

Even the wet version:

And for the love of God, we cannot forget the pulled version:

*Deep stuttered sigh*

And THIS, your honor, is why so many panties are ruined every friggin day...! And that includes Dean's, as a matter of fact. No matter if he chooses to wear the satiny pink ones or just his regular boxer briefs, he is just as guilty as the rest of us! 😏

I bet he dreams about running his fingers through those beautiful locks every time Sam is sleeping. I bet he takes a deep whiff every time they hug too.... And Sam is oblivious, hasn't got a clue what's going on in his big brother's fantasies once his hand slip under the covers at night when he thinks Sam has fallen asleep...? It's a well-kept secret, after all. Maybe he'll never know how Dean truly feels? Or maybe Dean has one too many shots of whiskey one day and accidentally blurts it all out? I don't know. You decide! I know what I think though.... 😏

Ah, and now I'm rambling.... My apologies. But please know that your ask made me really friggin happy! Thank you. I repay you with a a squeal of excitement along with an attack hug and some wet kisses! And I wish you a hell of an awesome New Year!!

MWAH!!!! 💋

For the ppl who don't know what "hair fetish" fics nonnie is referring to, here are the links:

"Anonymous Devotion" (prequel)

"Making the Cut"

(Heed the warnings though, both are dark)

#wincest #hair kink #sam winchester's hair #sam winchester #spn family #Supernatural #Ask #thank you for asking!#I feel all giddy now #Dee answers

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jerryb2 · 3 years

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I mean….you all knew this was coming ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ : the Star Wars Art of one Mr. Drew Struzan.

And look, the man has done so much and has such a diverse portfolio that Star Wars is only one very small part of his career. If you want to explore some of his other works, then might I suggest that you check out his website.

As for me here, we’ll be sticking strictly to his SW art. Now, with that out of the way, here we go…

*cracks knuckles*

I have to admit that before I really started to dig into this, I didn’t realize just how many Bantam Era (and beyond) Star Wars books this man has illustrated. Nearly 50 titles, ranging from novels to comics, short stories & even an RPG supplement. 🤯

And so, after much consideration, I decided to just pull all the titles that feature his art off my bookshelf and take a few pics for you guys:

First off, I just want to point out that I don’t have every book he’s ever illustrated. Some of them are just harder than hard to find, are hilariously expensive, or I just don’t have an edition that features his art prominently - you’ll see what I mean. Right off the bat though, you can see that he was really hitting his stride in the mid-90′s, with all but a handful of these coming out between ‘94 & ‘99. One of the highlights from this time for me, is The Callista Trilogy.

I just want to stress that The Callista Trilogy is a highlight for me only because of its gorgeous cover art. 🤣 Other than that, this book series needs to go lay down.

Anyway, the designs are all really striking and even after all these years, absolutely iconic. And you can really see Struzan’s distinct visual style at play here; not a painting in the same vein as something from Dave Doorman, and not a simple trace. Rather, something that is stylized in a very particular, very subtle way, almost to the point where it appears photo-realistic at first glance. Beautiful.

Next up is this trio of trilogies (good use of words, me), collected in these Science Fiction Book Club (SFBC) hardcovers:

Once again, these covers are just striking, particularly The Black Fleet Crisis. This is actually what I was referring to when I said that I don’t always have the best editions for a Drew Struzan appreciation post. 😅

Because these are hardcover collections of paperback books, we actually miss out on a good bit of the art. For these SFBC special editions, the publisher just took all three and basically photoshopped the best bits of each one together. The one that suffers the most here is obviously The Corellian Trilogy, where they didn’t even try to blend everything together, and instead just separated everything into columns. I don’t personally mind it (and I do love having the hardcover editions of these books) but if you want to see the covers as they were originally intended, just pickup those mass market paperbacks. 🙂

There’s a lot more to get through, so I’ll just hit the highlights here; even though he didn’t illustrate The Thrawn Trilogy (that was Tom Jung, who I personally think did an okay-ish job at best), he did an absolutely amazing job with the follow-up, The Hand of Thrawn Duology in ‘98 & ‘99:

I’ve always loved these covers. And narratively speaking, they really do serve as one last hurrah on the Bantam Era. Oh, and also please note, Mara Jade on the cover of Vision of the Future, just as Zahn originally described her. ❤❤❤

If you step back and look at Struzan’s work as a whole, it’s all incredibly unified. I bring this up here because even though some of these are books relatively ‘meh’ worthy, Struzan maintained a level of quality that belied the mediocrity contained within. And also to say that he was definitely busy, particularly in 1994:

That’s right - all of these released in ‘94, within a few months of one another. These covers man… *chef’s kiss*

And look I’m sorry, I just can’t help myself: The Crystal Star was a hilarious joke until we all realized they were serious about it. 😳

Alright, that’s a little on the harsh side; it’s not nearly as bad as most make it out to be, and Waru as a source for unlimited power (citation needed 👀😉) isn’t any more ridiculous than the 50 other post-Palpy, hair-brained Imperial schemes that everybody else cooked up, so I guess it fits. And besides, I really wanna be nice to Vonda McIntyre here, but this book was just so so boring. 😴

*clears throat* Moving on, here we have a couple Barnes & Noble hardcover collections of The Jedi Prince Series:

The same thing applies here; cover art photoshopped from across 6 different YA novels to get these. They don’t look bad, far from it. But rather this series has some things that people would rather forget about, namely a supposed son of Palpatine (spoiler: he wasn’t) named Triclops who had - wait for it - 3 eyes.

Like Tien. From DBZ. Yep. 🤦‍♂️

Moving further down the list, we have yet another pair of iconic cover designs, being I, Jedi (the only Star Wars novel written in the first person, and an appropriate riff on Isaac Asimov’s I, Robot - yes ladies & gentlemen, that is as clever as Star Wars gets) and The New Rebellion.

Classics, no doubt….but for reals, did anybody else ever wonder why the X-Wing on the cover of I, Jedi is missing an S-Foil? Or how that one slipped through??? 👀

Ah, at last we arrive at what is arguably Struzan’s most famous work; the covers for Shadows of the Empire & The Star Wars Trilogy: Special Edition.

It’s hard to overstate just how important Shadows of the Empire really was for Star Wars as a brand. In an era where SW books were already extremely popular, the Shadows of the Empire Multimedia Project basically served as a breakout hit and reignited interest in SW media across the board. This was in no small part due to the striking imagery captured on its cover - are you seeing a pattern here?

This success actually renewed Lucas’ interest in a theatrical re-release of the OT in 1997….which of course, feature more beautiful art from Drew Struzan:

These are my OG Special Edition VHS tapes from back in the day. I watched these so damn much as a kid. In fact, they’re basically the whole reason that I’m here, annoying the shit out of everybody today. 😁

After the Bantam Era concluded & the Star Wars publishing license went to Del Rey, Struzan did progressively fewer pieces for SW media. Here we see his contribution for the latter half of the Last of the Jedi YA series, and his kick-ass cover art for the Darth Maul comic:

And when I say that Struzan did progressively fewer pieces for Star Wars, I am of course omitting his turn as the poster artist for the freaking Prequel Trilogy:

Say what you will about the films, but these poster designs are nothing short of genius.

Look guys, it would be pretty easy for me to downplay Struzan’s Star Wars portfolio as just one small part of his incredible career. But my dudes, this is literally just the tip of the iceberg. The man has been a professional illustrator for over 50 years, and his art has delighted and inspired generations. From Star Wars to Indian Jones, and from Back to the Future to Blade Runner - Drew Struzan has played an integral part in shaping popular culture.

Here’s to you, sir. 🍻

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royallyprincesslilly · 3 years

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Title: Rumor Has It {Epilogue}

Chris Evans x Famous Reader Uriah “Riah” Tyler

Warning: Cursing, Plot, Fluff,

Words: 2.2k

Summary: You and Chris have been married for four years after a whirlwind romance. You are both happy and trying to navigate marriage in the public eye while balancing your successful careers. In the entertainment industry, not everything is as it seems, the flash of a camera lens impairs vision. As scandal and flashing lights put a strain on your once fairytale marriage is it possible your Hollywood marriage can stand the test of the rumor mill?

**Inspired by a video seen of Chris and his co-star Ana De Armas on their press tour for Knives Out at TIFF where she kept touching his chest and face standing about five inches apart.

NOTE: DO NOT COME FOR ME. THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION.

**Loosely Edited/Proofread**

Thank you guys for reading!!!! If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG. 😊❤️❤️

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If the public ripped Chris a new asshole when the odds seemed ever not in his favor, they massacred Ana once the facts were revealed. When it came out just how low Ana had gone in her efforts to get your husband, the world turned into a colder place. The tabloids ran endless pieces on what a horrible person she was. They were relentless when it came to nitpicking not just her behavior and actions, but they even went in on her acting. You could have said you felt bad for her, but you didn’t. Not one bit.

The support that came out for you and Chris was heartwarming. Everyone seemed to want to wrap the two of you in a cocoon of support and love. You received well-wishes from fans and supporters, and even celebs sent floral arrangements, all expressing their support for you. The narrative that was spun was the diabolical plot of Ana and jilted ex Christiano who concocted a plot that was to end with Ana getting Chris and Christiano kidnapping you. Most of the details were released to the press, though you and Chris had both tried to keep as much of it under wraps as possible. Neither one of you wanted to continue dealing with it. You just wanted to move forward and focus on better things—happier things.

Because Christiano had broken into your home and attempted to cause harm to its residents, Chris’s actions were seen as self-defense, and Chrisnao’s death ruled an accidental result of self-defense. Though the White family were distraught once they were faced with the severity of Christiano’s actions and continued plans, they didn’t have the heart to put you through any further trauma. You’d suspected it was Christina’s doing, and a floral arrangement from her a few weeks after the incident proved your suspicions.

You’d been friends with her first, and it was a friendship that survived the end of your relationship with Christiano. This was her way of letting it be known that her brother did wrong. A month after the incident, her statement shed light on Christiano’s mental health and revealed he’d been struggling for several years since the break-up. She made no apologies for his actions and didn’t try to make him seem like a victim. She was adamant about letting the full truth be seen. She did offer an apology to you, Chris, your families, and your children.

For her part in the plot, her actions of physically trying to kill you, not knowing you pregnant at the time, was what sealed Ana’s fate. She was sentenced to jail, and it wasn’t entirely the sentence of a privileged woman. It was one of a criminal who showed no remorse for their actions. She was given nine years behind bars, and because she was living and working in the US on a visa rather than citizenship, after the completion of her sentence, she would be deported to Spain.

Even film studios were distancing themselves from her at record speed. All the roles she had been considered for quickly changed their views and voiced wanting you to have the roles. It was sort of poetic to you. She hated you because you were black, and you didn’t deserve all you had, including your career and husband. In the end, she was the absolute furthest from your husband, and now everything that was hers would be yours.

You and Chris were on a flight to Massachusetts two days after the incident. Neither of you were suspects; there was no reason for you to remain in LA, so you quietly packed up what you wanted and made arrangements to pack up the house for the foreseeable future, then went where both of you felt like you belonged. You left any details about your career plans to your manager to close. Everyone seemed to understand the want you had to step back from work and Hollywood, especially when the news was out that you were going to be parents.

That was the only thing Chris seemed to care about. He was on a mission to keep you comfortable, happy, and taken care of. From the minute he carried you over the threshold of the home he’d built for you, it felt like a fresh start, a new beginning meant just for the five of you.

He was there beside you every morning, patting your back as you vomited because of your morning sickness until you were four and a half months along. He was there for every single appointment. He read every book you did to prepare for the remainder of your pregnancy and life with twins. He was there preparing you lunch every afternoon, there massaging your feet and back at the end of every night. He was there to lather on the cocoa and shea butter to your growing belly. He was there to compliment every stretch mark you received because of your quickly stretching skin. He was there to kiss each of them while telling you how much he loved each and every tiger stripe, as he called them. He was even there for you when none of your clothes fit you, and he offered you all his cable-knit sweaters, hoodies, sweatpants, and button-downs.

When your belly became so big you couldn’t see your feet; he put your shoes on for you. When you couldn’t get up without looking like a beached whale, Chris was there to carry you wherever you wanted to go. There rarely went an hour that went by where he didn’t strip you to worship your body as if you were his scripture, and he worshiped you and you alone. Not a day passed where you didn’t feel loved, desired, and protected.

Through it all, you decided that therapy was beneficial and a powerful enough tool to bring you back together that you wanted to continue. Dr. Danquah was thrilled having the two of you as clients again and, because of your progress, saw no need for you to see her more than twice a month to keep the lines of communication and the roots of love and passion ever strong. The love you felt for Chris and the connection you felt to each other only deepened throughout your pregnancy.

Just when you thought you couldn’t love him anymore, he did something to prove you wrong. Every day you found something more to love. If it wasn’t his fun-loving nature that was on display every time he played with Dodger, it was his outdoorsy adventurism with the way he bounded from the bed once the sun rose to drag you on another of his nature walks so he could photograph the trees or the hills. If it wasn’t his romantic side with how he prepared candlelit baths every night that posed as a prequel to dinner by candlelight and the most passionate session of lovemaking, it was his undercover, not so undercover freak antics with him wanting to christen every single room in the house and a few spots outdoors with your lovemaking. At nights when he thought you were sleeping, you heard him talking to the babies as he caressed your stomach. That was what you loved most. His sheer love, devotion, and adoration for his children and the strong protector that resided in him. he was the only one for you.

“Push Riah.”

“Don’t fucking tell me to push. You push!”

Chris snorted, and you wanted to kill him. His hands rubbed your belly before he kissed your jaw from his position behind you in the tub in your bathroom.

“I can push with you, but you have the babies in you. You have to show them the way.”

You groaned, and it echoed in the hallowed bathroom.

“You can do this, Uriah,” Lisa encouraged, giving your shoulder a firm squeeze.

You looked across to your mother, who nodded, hoping to steel your nerve. Chris kissed your ear.

“Come on, dragonfly. You got this. Bring our babies into the world so we can spoil them.”

And you can change all the poop diapers?”

Chris snorted again. “I don’t recall making any such promise.”

You squeezed his hand with everything you had. He groaned and hissed from the pain.

“Ah, ah, wow. Okay, I see my error. Yes, all poop diapers that you don’t want.” You released his hand, letting him relax somewhat.

“Use that, baby. I know it’s hard. I know it hurts, and I’m sorry.”

“This is your fault,” you pointedly accused.

“Yes. My fault. I take full blame. I’m sorry.”

“You owe me so big for this, Evans.”

He nodded, agreeing with you. that was when the pain intensified at levels that made you regret choosing a natural birth at home.

“Oh fuckity, fuck. So big, Evans!”

“You’re crowning. Do you want to come over here and catch your baby, dad?”

Chris moved from behind you and got into position between your legs. His eyes widened, clearly seeing the baby’s head. The excitement around you was palpable, and it gave you a burst of energy to get the baby out. You grabbed your knees, hunkered down, and pushed because whether you were supposed to or not. Your scream was loud, and the screams of those around you picked up. They shouted to you, encouraging you to keep going and not to stop. The look on Chris's face suddenly changed, and you saw the tears in his eyes.

“Oh my god, Riah, I can—I can see—oh baby, I can see a face. come on, Dragonfly, one more push.”

You screeched out and fought through the intense burning you felt, and in seconds the crying of a baby echoed in the bathroom.

“Aah, oh my god, Riah, it’s a girl. She’s here,” Chris elated as tears rolled down his cheeks.

You smiled widely as Chris held your daughter and cut her umbilical cord before he placed her on your chest.

“Oh my god!”

She was perfect, with a full head of hair that was the color of Chris’s and cheeks so plump you were tempted to pinch them. You only had a moment to place a kiss on her forehead before you felt another stab of pain that made you shout again. The second midwife took the baby from you so you could focus on pushing out her sister.

“She’s right there, Uriah. You’re doing incredible, baby,” your mother informed.

“I’m thinking three good pushes, Uriah. When you feel the urge, push.

You instantly felt the urge to push and returned to your previous position and pushed as hard as you could. This push was just as painful as the first one, but you felt this push accomplished more.

“Good push, her head is out. One more, and she’ll be out,” your first midwife said.

The look on everyone's face was one of anxiety and excitement. The sounds of your first daughter’s cries had died down, and the only thing that could be heard in the room was your panting, screeching, and grunting.

“Fuuuuuck!”

You managed to push your daughter out, and her cries filled the bathroom. Soon, it was not one baby crying but both of them.

“You did it!”

Lisa and your mother both kissed your cheeks and forehead, happily congratulating you and telling you how well you’d done while the midwives cleaned the babies to bring them to you. When Chris came up beside you, your mothers backed away, giving you a few moments together. Chris kissed your forehead.

“You’re incredible. You did so good, dragonfly. I’m so proud of you.” He kissed you once, then twice, and nuzzled his nose against yours.

“I love you so much.”

“Did someone order two perfect babies?”

The midwives placed your daughters in your arms.

“This is baby A; she was born first and her sister.”

Your tears flowed freely as so much emotion filled you. Love in it’s purest form washed over you.

“Chris. They’re beautiful.”

“Of course they are. They look just like you,” Chris said, kissing your temple.

A comfortable silence fell between you as you admired your newborn daughters.

“Any decision on names?”

You smiled and ran your thumb across the baby’s brow in your arm.

“Yeah. How do you feel about Nova and Rae?”

Chris’s face lit up as his smile spread so wide that you wondered if his face would split in two.

“I love them. Nova and Rae Evans,” he uttered. You nodded and couldn’t help but choke up, seeing the emotion on his face.

“Chasing dragonflies,” he whispered the meanings of the names you’d discussed weeks ago before his lips met yours for a tender kiss.

With his forehead pressed to yours, he whispered again. “Rumor has it you’re going to be an amazing mom.”

You smiled and looked at him before pressing your lips to his for a quick kiss. “Rumor has it you’re a DILF.”

Chris laughed so loud it startled your babies, making them stir and cry. You joined in laughing with him, unable to keep your sublime happiness under wraps any longer.

“Rumor has it you two will have siblings in record time,” Lisa said slightly above a whisper.

Everyone in the room laughed, not knowing how true those were most likely were. You and Chris gazed at each other with longing and love in your eyes. When Chris kissed you again, this time taking his time to do it properly, completely and heartily, you knew his mother’s words would be the truest spoken.

The End!!!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag List:

@chaneajoyyy @caplover22 @caramara3 @southerngracela @cyntgefel01 @vannahvannahhh @lorainnebabyy @patzammit @yourwonderbelle @pennywisesmistress @theblulife @kelbabyblue @bugngiz @kikimiyazaki @toniilaney @areubeingserved @chaos-crusader @thinkxlovexloud @cocothewriter @periodtcevans @bellaamor88 @mack-jay @titty-teetee @pananegra @wellthirsted @sup3rn0va13 @nova3312 @hello-therree @valkyriesnymph @squeackygee @niyashell @allmonstersxarehuman @zsuzstyina @peggy-potts @amelatonin @lvlyab @sullyosully @taylorveebee @renesmeeharelds @capslut2014 @ilovehatembj @thelittlemoistcarrot @sarcastic-sunshines @a-dizzle777 @taylorveebee @jesseswartzwelder @90sinspiredgirl @allnamesicouldthinkofweretaken @choices97 @jd-now-jq @actorinfluence @chrisgalore @rynabarnesrogers @ab-baybay @motivation-idontknowher @lo-cheu @builtalongthewaysi @momobaby227@drsunshine97 @cleothegoldfish

@thatrandomhetaliachick @missdeerstalker15 @queenbetter @ilovehatembj @briellableu @zaddysqueen7 @melaninhawtie @simplyyamberr @ashanti-notthesinger @chezdricks @euh-say-what-now @afraiddreamingandloving @ajspencer1892 @wakanda-inspired @chillavesss @theunsweetenedtruth @geeksareunique @aykanna @hanasamara @profilia @ollieveracity @autumn242 @missyperle @forbeautyandlife @kreolemami @songtoyou @designerwriterchic @firedolphin04 @academic-glowup @periodtcevans @nova3312 @naturalthrone22 @squeackygeecapslut2014 @queen-audsalena

@unknownmystery22 @thatcrazymarvelfan @mizcaptainwidow @angrybirdcr @cherrystainedlipsbaby @marvelfansworld @fanfictionaffair @kemkem101 @blowmymbackout @almostpurelysmut @blackgurlkillinit @simply-heaven @impossiblegiantrebelbasketball @renfrewscorner @choices97 @phreshouttherunwaaayy @heladoom @alyxkbrl @evemej @queensevansackles @rosey1981 @laketaj24 @munteanhore @minton131 @trillistb @night-of-the-living-shred @chrisevansfanfic @scoop93535 @miss-jackson500 @purplehairgawdess @ollieveracity @maddeningmayhem @what-is-your-plan-today @tantricevans @evermcfearless @richonne4life @dumbchick @toni9 @briellableu @amennariee @rynabarnesrogers-reading @chrissbabybunny @brwnsugababe @queenshikongo3 @sadishdelray @what-is-your-plan-today @islanddgal @reignandrain @liquorlaughslove @thefuckingluxury @surmya1907 @maeleeme @queenoftheworldisdead @coolbakeryprunetoad @naturalthrone22 @wonderlandfandomkingdom @starlite-starbrite @offrostandstarlight @zeedaye @partypoison00 @thejeneralvicinity @littlepreciousangel @doublesidedscoobysnacks

@imthatbitchsworld @soul–notforsale @toni9 @someone-really-bored @venustrap04 @chrisevansdaddycap @kittykatlow @live-laugh-love-ki @asiaaisa77 @melanicia @fistmetonystark @livinglifeformemyselfandi @crowngold @allnamesicouldthinkofweretaken @lost- ssoull @give-me-a-million-dollars-pls @shar74nett @cltex84 @badbitchhtown @petty-bitch-akira @unknownmystery22 @raveviolet @madixii @almosttherebutnot @rainbowkisses31 @smediumsmeatbae @bernie-k @nina1800 @nervousninjatheorist @lo-cheu @creole-mami @acciolove724 @shipatheart @captainchrisstan @ramp-it-up @bforbbgirl @brownskinafro @jhayes6984 @badbo1-evans @msblkfire84 @jovanaprime @poshgirl2 @marvelatthis30 @littlepreciousangel @youremysuperstar @alookintohersoul @cleopatra-knowles @xsweetdellzx @cxmfort @i-just-like-fanfics @storiestoldbyjazz @jennmurawski13 @imthewarmpenguininthemiddle @ak329

@koko-michelle @sophiasotherdaughter @maeleeme @mauvecherie @jbrizzywrites

***There are a few that are bold that I tried to tag but your @ wasn’t coming up. I’m not sure why. Please check that you are taggable. I’m sorry.***

#rumor has it fic #Chris Evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x black ofc #black fanfiction #chris evans x ofc uriah

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skellebonez · 3 years

Note

How about 70 for that one au where Red decided after Bad Weather that he liked MK? (Maybe a confession of some sort?)

Oh, I love that I get to come back to this idea! This is the first fill (which, holy shit, I cannot believe this got so many notes) and this was the follow up, so this one gets to be a prequel! I went absolutely wild on this... it's super long.

Was this supposed to be a romantic gesture?

Things had been suspiciously quiet since Red Son had attacked the weather station one week ago to the day. It had only taken him a day and a half to return, attacking Xiaotian and demanding a rematch in the middle of a delivery run only to immediately run off in a burst of flames and sputtered insults when he body slammed him into the side of his truck not even 2 minutes into the fight. He returned 5 seconds later with an angry scream for the truck and hadn’t come back since.

Nothing had happened since. Nothing.

And Xiaotian was just waiting for the other shoe to drop. Oh, he joked about how Red must have learned his lesson and gone into hiding and how he didn’t worry about him coming back to get his butt kicked again, but deep in the back of his mind he just knew that he had something up his sleeve.

And oh how he hated being right sometimes.

“You can’t run away this time, Noodle Boy!” Red Son screamed as he chased Xiaotian, doing everything in his power to keep him from reaching his tuk-tuk. He was fighting more intensely, more viciously than the last two times, but this time without any of his fire or Bull Clones for backup. He had waited for him to take a delivery far outside of the city and ambushed him in his truck once again, blocking the road and making it nearly impossible for the delivery boy to leave. “NOW FIGHT ME PROPERLY!”

“I am fighting you!” Xiaotian screamed in turn, blocking each and every punch and kick with the staff. They’d been doing this song and dance for almost 5 minutes and Xiaotian was starting to get frustrated and angry and tired.

“I SAID PROPERLY!” Red Son repeated, landing a harsh punch to the back of one of Xiaotian’s hands.

He yelped, jumping back and waving his hand in pain before scowling in Red’s direction. “Oh, oh you want me to fight you without the staff? OK, fine, have it your way I can still kick your ass!”

The staff shrank down to the size of the tiniest pin and as Xiaotian stored it away in his ear he rushed at Red Son with a scream and aimed a punch at the other’s face. He startled when the punch landed hard only to have Red Son laugh in response and try to grapple him and toss him completely over his head with a yell of “FINALLY” and just barely managed to land on his feet.

He turned and went to punch once again, missing as Red leaned to the side and dropped down to grab his waist and return the body slam into the truck from last time. Xiaotian pulled his legs up and back, kicking Red hard in the torso and sending him flying away and freeing him from his grasp. He watched as the fire demon bounced and landed on his back a few feet away and rushed forward in anticipation for another attack... That did not come.

He stopped only a few short steps away from the fire demon, looking down carefully. Red Son laid where he landed on the ground, his chest rose and fell in heavy breathing from the battle and if it wasn’t Xiaotian would have been worried he had accidentally killed him.

“Uh-”

“Please go out with me.”

“EXCUSE ME!?” Xiaotian sputtered as Red Son sat himself up and he took a step back in shock, Red holding his chest and blushing even harder than the Monkie Kid himself was at the sudden request. “I-you-we just!? WHAT?”

“I- shit no, I apologize, that wasn’t how I intended to ask,” Red said as his hair started to sway in flames, blush deepening as he looked away.

“You... want to go out with me?” Xiaotian questioned, narrowing his gaze and watching Red Son’s face carefully. “I.... I’ve kicked your ass four times and stopped your father and-WAIT is this a trap?”

“No!” Red exclaimed as he rose to his feet, sighing as he ran his hands over his face. “No, I... I’ll explain in a moment. I, uh... after our battle at the weather station... I may have come to the conclusion that... maybe.. I had misjudged you and that you’re kind of handsome?”

Xiaotian froze, looking at Red Son with wide eyes before blushing more. “You think I’m handsome?” He chuckled, suddenly feeling awkward. This entire conversation had become very awkward, just enough for him to think... maybe he should see this at least part way through.

“Yes, and... I apologize for the... garbage comments,” Red said. “I was trying very hard to sound intimidating for my Bull Clones. They were immature at best.”

“I mean, we were kind of fighting on opposite sides and -HEY!" Xiaotian shook his head, scowling once again. What was he thinking? "Come on, I can't just accept you at your word! You're a bad guy, you and your dad and your mom destroyed half the city!"

"Ah yes," Red Son nodded casually as if he had expected such a retort as he reached into his coat pocket. "To prove I am serious about this proposition I took it upon myself to use my private funds to recoup the costs of 75% of the city restoration anonymously... since at least 25% of that was also you." He unfolded a paper, a genuinely official looking one.

Stepping forward carefully to read it, Xiaotian saw it certainly looked like a printed receipt for donations...

"... you're... serious about this aren't you?" He questioned, staring into Red Son's face as he did. "You actually want to go out with me."

"Just once," Red Son clarified as he put the paper in his pocket. "After the weather station I just couldn't stop thinking about the fight. I'd worked myself up enough to attack you thinking I had simply been angry about my defeat, but soon I realized I was not angry but impressed. It takes a lot to impresse me, Noodle Boy, and-"

"Xiaotian."

"Huh?" Red Son paused at the interruption and his hair flamed up more.

"If you're serious call me by my actual name, Xiaotian," he repeated, crossing his arms and jumping as Red Son burst into flames for a moment before seeming to calm down.

"Xi-Xiaotian," Red Son continued, voice more flustered than before. "I. I was impressed and. Realized that I found that. Attractive." His words were more stilted and awkward and if the situation was different Xiaotian would have only found it endearing. "I... LOOK- I spent 2 days researching human dating customs and I don't know if I'm doing this right at all and demon customs for courtship are very different and outdated and-"

"Sure."

"Huh?" Red flamed up again, blushing deeply. "Did you say yes!?"

"Yeah, sure, why not?" Xiaotian shrugged with a smile. "I'll go out with you. But why attack me again?"

"I needed to judge how strong you were in case you said yes and we needed to pretend to fight..."

This was going to be interesting.

#monkie kid #lego monkie kid #mk #qi xiaotian #red son #spicynoodleshipping #I POSTED THIS TOO SOON #i didn’t really incorporate the prompt itself in the dialogue because i wanted to try just using it as a baseline idea this time

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knightofameris · 4 years

Text

surprising changes — prince caspian

Request: Hi ! Could you please do a Caspian imagine when lucy, Edmund and eustace arrive in narnia and y/n is married to Caspian or something ?? Thanks xx

Setting: When Edmund, Lucy, and Eustace arrives on the Dawn Treader Contains: Nothing bad really. I’ll be going by the movie. Word Count: 1596

I really didn’t know how to end it, so I’m really sorry. Also, I might write a little prequel to when Caspian and Reader’s relationship starts. Stay tuned!

Edit: Sorry guys, I was reading through this and I realized a lot of grammar and spelling mistakes. They should be fixed but if not, please do tell me lol. I try reading them by myself but sometimes I don’t catch them until a little while after I post it. Thanks!

Enjoy!

[reposting from my old 2016 blog]

The waves hit the shore of Narnia repeatedly. It was early in the morning and the sun was barely rising. If you looked out into the ocean from the coastline, you could see the alluring waves just calling out to you, to sail into the endless sea. The salty fragrant of the ocean was somehow rejuvenating. That was the power of the Narnian ocean. Of course, Narnia was just magical in itself.

But today was the day the Narnia is to be left behind and Caspian the Tenth would travel out into the Great Eastern Ocean that was filled with the unknown. It had been three years since the Kings and Queens of old had aided him in the Narnian Revolution. Three years since (Y/n) had decided to stay in Narnia instead of going back to England. Besides, Narnia was her home and Aslan told her her duties lied here in Narnia now. In those three years, Caspian helped bring Narnia back up to where it used to be in the Golden Age. And in the three years, Caspian and (Y/n) had courted then got married.

(Y/n) was now known, once again, as the Queen of Narnia. She had ruled before with the Pevensies in the Golden age as (Y/n) the Daring so it was nothing new. Except for the fact that she’s now married to Caspian. It was strange because Caspian and her hadn’t gotten along very well until after the Second Battle of Beruna. And Caspian and Susan had a sort of thing between the two. But it wasn’t until the battle against the Calormens in the Great Desert that Caspian realized he had fallen for the Queen. But that’s a different story to tell.

“Caspian, you must let me go with you!” (Y/n) pleaded. Caspian was gathering a few personal things to bring with him onto the Dawn Treader, the first ship to be built in almost a thousand years. He grabbed Peter’s old sword, Edmund’s torch, Lucy’s healing cordial and dagger, and Susan’s bow and arrows. Caspian turned around to face his wife.

“I can’t, you have to stay here in Narnia to rule while I’m away.” Caspian explained then walked out of the castle towards the ship. (Y/n) following close behind.

“Well, we can just ask Trumpkin to look after Narnia in the meantime, can’t we?” (Y/n) suggested. Caspian sighed.

“We could but the ocean is a dangerous place. It’s filled with the unknown. I don’t want you to get hurt.” (Y/n) grabbed Caspians arm and the two stopped walking.

“Caspian, I’m not known as (Y/n) the daring for nothing.” Slowly she was winning. “Besides, I’ve sailed that ocean long before you were even born. I know Narnia and I know the Great Eastern Ocean. I’m not going just because I want to, I want to go so that I can protect you.”

“Protect me? I don’t need protecting.” Caspian scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“Caspian so help me I’m going with you whether you like it or not.” (Y/n) scolded. Caspian huffed and finally gave in.

“Fine.” (Y/n) grinned and hugged Caspian.

She let go of him and looked up into his eyes. “Great! I already have everything set on board! I also already spoke to the Narnians and Trumpkin about everything.”

“What?! You mean you-”

“Yup, I knew you were going to give in.” Caspian sighed then hugged her once more.

“What am I going to do with you,” Caspian asked jokingly. (Y/n) laughed and rested her head against his chest.

“Love me?”

“Always.”

***

The Dawn Treader was sailing across the vast ocean and Cair Paravel was gone from sight. The winds were in their favor and they had left faster than expected. (Y/n) already had her favorite spot picked out which was in the figure head of the dragon. Reepicheep accompanied her in there.

Reepicheep was humming a tune when (Y/n) had asked him what it was he was humming.

“Ah, my majesty. It’s a tune that the dryads sang to me when I was a mere pinkie.” Reepicheep replied.

“It sounds beautiful, how do the lyrics go?” (Y/n) was intrigued.

“Well, I’m not that great of a singer but…”

“Where the sky and water meet~

Where the waves grow ever sweet,

Doubt not, Reepicheep,” Reepicheep seemed to dance a bit when he sang and (Y/n) giggled when he jumped on her shoulder then on top of the figured head and hung down from it. “ To find all you seek, there is the utter east.”

“Ah, Reepicheep, that was beau-” (Y/n) got distracted when she saw in the corner of her eye in the deep waters of the ocean something rather peculiar. “Hey, Reep.”

“Yes your majesty?” He looked where she was looking into the ocean.

“Get Caspian and another crewmate, we got three people overboard.” With that being said, (Y/n) dove into the water.

“Eustace swim!”

“What’s going on?”

“Eustace come on! Keep swimming.”

Two more series of splashes came in and by that time, (Y/n) had reached Lucy.

“Hey, Lu! Don’t worry I gotchu.” (Y/n) held Lucy as the two of them trod the water.

“(Y/n)!” Lucy was absolutely ecstatic when she saw her longtime friend once more. They both started to swim towards the ship but before they did Lucy called out to Edmund. “Edmund, it’s (Y/n)!”

“Caspian?” Edmund was extremely surprised to see Caspian right next to him in the water. “Are we in Narnia?”

“Yes, you’re in Narnia.” Caspian answered.

“I don’t want to go! I want to go back to England! I’m going back to England!” Eustace cried as he struggled against the other crewmate.

“Is that Eustace?” (Y/n) asked Lucy. They finally made it to the portside of the ship and they were about to get pulled up and out of the water.

“Yes, it is…” Lucy answered. (Y/n) had met Eustace once before back when they were all much younger. (Y/n) was about 4 years older than him then but now she’s 7 years older. Guess how Eustace reacted?

“Well, that’s unfortunate.”

“(Y/n)!”

***

After Eustace had passed out from the minotaur, and how he reacted to recognize and see (Y/n) once more and much older than before, they all went into the Captain’s Cabin.

“It’s been great seeing all of you guys again,” (Y/n) had her arms wrapped around Edmund and Lucy. “You guys don’t look as different as before, how long has it been?”

“About a year,” Edmund replied grinning. “How about with you?”

“Three years,” Caspian answered.

“Well, it explains why you look so grown up, (Y/n).” Lucy smiled at her.

“But of course, time here doesn’t run with the time back on Earth afterall.”

Lucy saw an image of Aslan engraved on one of the walls and she smiled. The warm feeling came through her again like it had before when she had heard his name and when she met him for the first time.

“Aslan…” Then something caught Lucy’s eye. “Susan’s bow and arrows!”

(Y/n) went to go grab something out of the cabinet as Edmund stared at a picture of him and his siblings.

“Hey Lu,” Lucy turned around towards (Y/n)’s voice and she saw her dagger and healing cordial. “IT’s about time you got this back I suppose.”

“Is that Peter’s sword?” Edmund asked when he saw Caspian holding it out towards him.

“I looked after it, as promised.” Edmund walked over towards Caspian and was about to take it but then decided not to.

“No, no. It’s yours,” Edmund took a step back. “Peter gave it to you.”

“Hmm, well. I saved this for you though,” Caspian turned around and went into a different cabinet and grabbed his torch. He tossed it over towards Edmund and he caught it.

“Thanks!” Edmund was actually pretty grateful for it. He looked down into the torch and tried turning it in. Though, it blinded him. “Gah!”

(Y/n) laughed, “You’re such an idiot, Ed.” Edmund smiled sheepishly.

***

(Y/n), Caspian, Lucy, Edmund, and Lord Drinian stood around the table with a map of Narnia and the surrounding countries along with the Great Eastern Ocean.

“Since you left,” Caspian pointed towards the Lands of the North, “the Giants of the North surrendered unconditionally.” He moved his hand towards the Great Desert.

(Y/n) interrupted and four heads looked at her, “It was surprising to see how they had surrendered. I’ll tell you the story later. Oh, and then we fought the Calormen armies in the Great Desert! That’ll be an amazing story to tell, too!” (Y/n) sighed contently from the memories of the battles she had fought alongside Caspian. She looked over at him and smiled.

“Right, and now there’s peace across all of Narnia,” Caspian continued smiling while still looking over at her.

“Really? Peace?” Edmund asked while eyeing Caspian and (Y/n). He was a bit suspicious that something was going on between the two.

“Yup! In just three years.” (Y/n) answered.

“And have you found yourself a queen in those three years, Caspian? Or a king, (Y/n)?” Lucy asked the two. (Y/n) and Caspian looked at each other and the grabbed each other’s hands.

“You all know her as (Y/n) the Daring. Now you can know her also as my wife,” Caspian grinned.

“I knew it!” Edmund shouted. Everyone stared at him like he was a mad man.

#prince caspian x reader #prince caspian imagine #caspian x reader #caspian drabbles #a.writes

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pretty-setter-bois · 3 years

Text

elephant in the banquet hall

request; please do a continuation of this!! i love it!! 😭

summary; the long-awaited prequel to elephant in the room — how a small interaction in hong kong led to an awkward tension, which might even lead to something more.

word count; 3343™

warnings; none, just a bit suggestive, an almost-car accident.

sequel

“I’M BACK NOW.” haru announces, subconsciously tugging at his collar.

“welcome back.” kamei greets, barely looking up from his screen.

“welcome back! how was hong kong? you ate a lot of yummy food, right?” saeki interrogates.

he pauses for a second, blushing a little. “n-not so much...” he hands over a bag of mooncakes. “here's a gift for you guys.”

“wow! these mooncakes look so tasty! let's all have some!” saeki beams, taking them out of the bag. “huh? it's already open.

“sorry, i ate one as my share.” he apologizes, his tone anything but.

“you're so greedy. you ate a ton of delicious food, and on top of that you snacked on our gift?” kamei looks up to glare at him.

“i'm telling you, i didn't get to eat any good food.” haru sighs.

“but wasn't there a party at some fancy hotel after the symposium?”

“yeah, there was a party, but...”

KATO WALKS UP to you and daisuke, a plate in his hands. “i'm starving... i finally managed to get two slices of the roast beef... i usually don't get to eat expensive cuts like this.” he eyes his food, earning a small chuckle from you as you eye your own plate. “huh? aren't you going to eat?” he turns to daisuke.

“no.” daisuke deadpans.

“what's wrong with you? here, i'll give you a slice. i waited in line for 10 minutes for this, so eat it with care.” he puts a piece on daisuke’s plate.

the black-haired man is reluctant, but takes a bite nonetheless. he immediately places his fork down, patting his mouth down with a napkin.

“this is so tough it's inedible. the quality of the meat is bad, and it's overcooked.” he begins to complain.

“what? stop complaining and eat.” haru furrows his eyebrows, something he did a lot around the millionaire. “someday, you're going to get what you deserve.”

“i'm heading over to a different restaurant now. do you want to come?” he asks, standing up.

“i’m fine, thank you.” you smile.

“this is plenty good for me, see you later.” haru says, cutting his food.

he walks off, leaving you and haru alone.

“sheesh, he's such a jerk... how do you raise someone to be such a picky eater?” haru rambles, and you laugh again.

“don’t get mad at him. why didn’t you go with him, anyway?” you ask.

he turns his head towards you, taking in your appearance. you look stunning — not that you usually don’t — and he forgets that you’ve asked him a question.

“kato?” you ask again.

“oh, uh, i didn’t want this food to go to waste.”

i want to stay with you.

you finish your food, drying your hands on the warm towels the banquet had gifted you with and popping the peppermints they gave you in your mouth. you excuse yourself to the bathroom.

on the other hand, haru is stopped by a man on his way out. “hello? are you from japan?”

“huh? oh...” kato switches languages. “i'm japanese.”

“i would like to ask about the police box system in japan.” the man states.

“in japan...?” haru tilts his head, confused.

"yes, about the police box system.”

"s-sorry...” the taupe-haired man apologizes, unable to comprehend ‘police box system’.

he hears a voice behind him, turning his head to find you.

“oh, the police box system?” you answer in flawless english. “it’s a box-like phone-station, created so that we’re able to reach the police at anytime.”

“ah, really?” answers the man. “i’m from the united states, here’s my card.” he hands you a card. “i’m here on business to research ways to better the police system in america.” (as he should).

“any more questions?” you ask, looking down at his card.

“oh, no. i just wanted to get a vague idea of what they did. thank you.” he grins, and you could’ve sworn he winked, “don’t worry, the number is international.”

“alright, goodbye.” you wave with a smile.

“actually, i do have one question-” the man begins.

“sorry, we have to go.” haru tries to get to the point with the little english he knew.

the man nods warily, leaving to find someone else to speak to. “see you around.”

haru turns around to you, his face solemn. “come on, we have to go.”

“SO THAT’S WHY i didn't get a chance to eat.” haru explains, leaving out the last part.

“i can see why that happened. after all, it was an after party for an international symposium.” saeki nods.

“my english score was like 70 points out of 200 back when i took the national center test for university admissions.” he continues.

“how were you able to even join the metropolitan police department?” kamei squints. “anyways, you're like the most japanese person i know. you’re lucky (L/N) was there to save you.”

“oh yeah!” saeki says. “where is (L/N)-chan anyways?”

“ah...” haru’s mind trails to last night, and he shakes his head. “she called in sick today, said she caught a cold out of nowhere.”

“hm, strange...” kamei places his chin in his hand. “(L/N) usually doesn’t call in sick, even if she does have a cold.”

“maybe she’d really sick, we shouldn’t bother her.” haru tries to redirect the conversation.

“what could get (L/N)-san so sick to the point where she’d have to call in sick?” saeki ponders, and haru coughs to avoid gulping.

“so, did you end up missing your chance to eat?” kamei finally changes the topic.

“no, i didn't have a choice, so i tagged along with kambe to go eat.” haru exhales a sigh of relief.

“oh, so you were able to eat something delicious after all.” kamei nods.

“actually, that’s not really the case...”

“wait, i'm not sure if i understand. you got to eat, or you didn't?”

“i guess you can say i ate something...” he thinks of the mooncake, then trailing off to the thought of you. he lightly shakes his head again.

"the fact that you went to eat with kambe means that you went to a super high-end restaurant, right? how much was it? how was the meal?”

“500,000 yen.”

“you're kidding me!” saeki exclaims. “500,000?! that's way more than my monthly salary!”

“it's more than my salary, too. but... expensive doesn't necessarily mean good...” haru rubs the back of his neck.

THE THREE OF you arrive at a high-end restaurant, one which daisuke seems to be familiar with. you and haru awe at the place, thinking of how expensive it must be.

"what's up with this place... it's so extravagant... but it's empty.” haru notes.

“i reserved the entire restaurant. i eat here often when i'm in hong kong.” daisuke explains.

“i see...” haru nods.

"menu, please.” the waiter greats in cantonese.

although you were better than haru at english, you were considerably clueless when it came to cantonese. he seems to pick up on this.

"thank you.” he thanks the waiter.

he turns to you, giving a brief explanation of the items on the menu and letting you pick.

“i'm starving... i missed out on that roast beef, so i'm craving meat...” he mutters.

“and i missed out on my desert because of you.” you tease jokingly, receiving a sheepish smile from the taupe-haired man.

“there's so many different kinds... meat... meat... meat... here it is. this must be where the meat section starts... let's see... 'pear, piece, with, steam, fruit, small, raccoon dog'... what is this?” he reads the menu aloud to you.

"pear slices with steamed civet.” daisuke answers.

“i can accept the pears... but civets? aren't they similar to raccoon dogs?”

"raccoon dogs are canines, civets are part of the viverridae family. they are completely different species.”

"you're missing the point.” haru says. “fine, i'll pick something else... have you decided, (L/N)?”

“no... i’ve never heard of these food before.” you admit.

"what's this? 'steamed, camel, peak'...” haru reads.

"that's steamed camel hump.” daisuke says.

"pass. let's see... 'boar, brain, temporary, leopard, fetus...”

"that one? you might think that it's stewed leopard fetus, but it's actually pig brains...”

“what the hell do these rich people eat...” you mutter.

"hey! isn't there any normal food here?!” haru yells, seeming to have read your thoughts.

"you sure complain a lot.” daisuke says nonchalantly.

“i'm not complaining! i just want to eat some normal chinese food!”

"this is normal chinese food for me. what do you mean by normal?”

"that would be...” he pauses to think. “for instance, fried rice, potstickers, or congee, you know? like stuff they sell at street food stalls. you don't have to be eating civets or camel humps to have good food!”

daisuke pauses. “a street food stall... i've never been to one...”

“then let's get some street food. the food stalls are cheap and rowdy, and you can always get a taste of the local culture.” haru looks around the restaurant. “what about you, (L/N)?”

“only if you pick what i eat.” you chuckle, earning an eager grin.

“HEUSC, find the best food stall we can get to in one hour.” daisuke presses on his earring.

"understood. balance: unlimited.” HEUSC answers.

the sounds of a helicopter approaching can be heard, waiting for the three detectives to get in.

“so, where are we?” haru asks.

"a food stall.” deadpans daisuke.

"i know that! you just shoved us on to a chopper and took us to an unknown place, so i'm asking you where the hell we are!”

“this is macau. according to HEUSC, the best food stall within an hour's travel was this one located in sam chan dang, macau-”

"so we came to hong kong for nothing!”

"you sure complain a lot.”

haru sighs, cradling his head in his hands. “why can't we just have an ordinary meal...”

you pat his back reassuringly, a bit excited to see what daisuke has in store for the three of you.

“here you go. sorry to make you wait.” the man says in cantonese, serving you your food.

“well... it does look really tasty...” haru admits.

“yeah.” daisuke nods.

"well, we might as well dig in. i'm absolutely starving.” haru picks up his chopsticks.

“hold on!” daisuke interrupts.

“what now?”

“HEUSC mentioned the possibility of a food safety issue at this stall.”

“don't worry about details like that. this is a food stall, so not everything's gonna be perfect-”

"i can't allow that. HEUSC checked the surrounding radius of 10 meters, and found 7 rats and 48 cockroaches-”

"hey! i just lost my appetite!”

“can we go home?” you ask, already tired.

“oh no...” daisuke says, disregarding what you said.

"hey... what is it this time?” haru sighs.

"we're going back to hong kong.” he states

"huh? why?” you ask.

"the store that i was planning to buy souvenirs at closes in 30 minutes.” daisuke says.

"souvenirs? just buy something from a store that's open!” haru states.

"i can't do that.”

“actually, kambe, me and kato won’t bother you. we’ll look for a food stand, and you get your souvenirs. we’ll tell you when find one.”

haru’s a bit surprised by your words, but would rather spend time with you than hopping restaurants with daisuke.

daisuke nods, waving goodbye and hopping in his helicopter. you wave back, deciding to begin your search for a place to eat, haru close behind, of course.

“look! that place looks good!” you point, light on your feet.

you’re so excited that you don’t notice the truck driving on the road until the horn is almost by your ear.

haru grabs you back by the arm, holding you close as your mind tries to register what happened.

“i’m not letting you out of my sight.” he says, just loud enough for you to hear, bur firm.

you nod, quiet. what if haru hadn’t been there? what would’ve happened then?

a soft squeeze to the hand he’s been holding is all you need for reassurance. you wonder when he began to hold it.

he leads the two of you across to the restaurant that you saw, and you reread the sign.

“motel.” you squint. you take a quick glance of the stores open around you, and this one seems to be the only one. “i think everything else is closed. let’s check if they have food.”

the bell by the door jingles at your entrance, and the secretary at the desk turns to face you.

“hello, we were wondering if there was anywhere we could eat?” you ask.

“the buffet is open for about an hour, but only for the people who have rooms registered.” she answers.

you nod, and watch haru look down at his phone.

“kambe isn’t gonna be here for a while.” he informs you.

“we’ll get a room.” you nod.

she turns around to get the paperwork ready, and haru’s eyes widen.

“what do you mean? we have to leave tomorrow!” he whispers.

“don’t worry,” you assure him. “we’ll sign out early in the morning.”

the secretary turns around and hands you a piece of paper to fill out, to which you finish quickly and hand back to her.

“here’s your bill.” she states.

you’re relieved that it isn’t expensive, as you haven’t brought much money with you in the first place.

“um, excuse me?” you call.

“yeah?” she answers.

“this says single, we asked for a double.” you point to the paper.

haru has to gulp to avoid showing his embarrassment.

“sorry, but we only have one-bed rooms available.” she explains. “it doesn’t seem to be a problem between the two of you, though.”

your faces get red, and you quickly pay. the two of you awkwardly scurry off to the buffet, which you have previously been told is free.

you eat your meals in silence, ‘itadkimasu’ and occasional questions with one-word answers asked, but nothing else.

a ringing phone is what finally snaps the two of you out of it, and you look up to see that it’s haru’s.

“huh?! what do you mean you followed him home?! you don’t have enough space for us?! another flight?!” haru almost yells into his phone, before the other line beeps. “ugh.”

“what happened?” you ask.

“ah...” he nervously rubs at his neck. “daisuke bought too many souvenirs, and there was no place for us to fit.”

“the flight is supposed to be...” you look down at your watch. “right now!”

“yeah, he got us another.”

“when?”

“tomorrow...”

you nod, realizing that you would actually need to stay at the motel.

“it’s a good thing we made early reservations then...”

“yeah...”

THE TWO OF you enter the reserved room, deciding to might as well get comfortable.

“hey, kato?” you ask. “i’m going to shower, can you look for a futon or something like that?”

he nods, leaving you to the bathroom and him to his thoughts.

the bathroom didn’t have any shampoo or conditioner, just a soap dispenser that serves as a reminder as to why you don’t like hotels.

you dry yourself off, placing on your previous clothes and cursing your past self for wearing something to uncomfortable.

you step out of the bathroom, a towel around your neck as you dry your hair. he notices you and instantly gets up, looking at you in worry.

“i... couldn’t find a futon...”

“it’s fine.” you sigh, placing the towel on a rack. “we’re adults, right?”

he nods, trying to make his gulp unnoticeable.

both your shoes had been placed by the door, and your jacket hung by his on a chair. his tie was on the bedside table, and only then had you noticed that the first few buttons of his shirt were open.

your backs were against each other, trying to get comfortable on the bed with a small pillow in-between you as a divider.

“hey, kato?” you call out. “sorry for getting you into this mess. we could’ve stuck with daisuke instead, but...”

“it’s fine.” he answers. “though, i don’t think i’ll be able to get any sleep tonight.”

“me either.”

the two of you turn to face each other, moving the pillow out of the way. you haven’t noticed the close proximity between you until his hot breath meets yours.

until you look at how his eyes darken, how good his hair looks messy, and confirm that his top buttons are indeed open.

it starts with a small kiss, really. are his lips as soft as they look? that’s all you want to confirm, and confirm you do.

you don’t remember how his shirt ends up on the floor, or how your dress is unzipped. what you do remember, is that it is the best night’s sleep you’ve gotten in a long time.

YOU WOKE UP the next morning with a headache and a few hours of sleep, his phone buzzing on the table beside you.

he reaches to grab it, answering the call with a deep tone. “yeah, we’ll be there.” the call ends soon after. “it’s time to go.”

“i want to sleep.” you mumble.

“you can sleep on the plane.” he helps you up. “come on.”

the two of you get ready for your flight back to japan, and sign out at the front desk of the motel. you make sure to zip up your jacket all the way.

you arrive at the airport, and shortly board the plane after. you try to fall asleep, but the turbulence and noise make it hard to do so.

your headache has gotten worse, and you make a mental note to never shower before bed again.

daisuke greets you both in japan, dropping you off at haru’s home after one look at your condition. you’re far too tired to argue, and head to bed the moment you make it there.

“THE FACT THAT we have mooncakes here means that he really made the chef make some...” saeki notes.

"yeah, he got ahold of the chef just as he got home. apparently, he made the chef return to the shop immediately to make some mooncakes right in front of his eyes.” haru explains.

“what do you mean? weren’t you there?” kamei asks.

“ah, i went to grab... dinner with (L/N).” haru sweats.

“that must have annoyed the chef,” kamei thinks. “bringing him back to the restaurant to cook, i mean.”

"but actually... you can't quite say that.”

"why? no matter how you look at it, what he did was out of line.”

“kambe bought the mooncakes for 5 million yen per box.”

"how many boxes did he buy?” saeki questions.

"this one, and the one box for his grandmother.” kato sighs.

“in other words, 10 million yen for two boxes of mooncakes... let's see, so there's 10 pieces in each box. so each piece is 500,000 yen...” kamei concludes.

"oh! so that means your dinner last night was...” saeki thinks.

"besides the food i ate with (L/N), it was this mooncake. i ate one on the flight back.” haru stands up. “i have to get her her mooncake, i was just stopping by to make sure everyone had one.”

“give her our best wishes!” waves saeki.

haru nods, wrapping your mooncake in a cloth and leaving the building. he is tired, but the fatigue he was feeling was nothing compared to yours.

he remembers that daisuke had dropped you off at his home, since neither knew your address and the black-haired man needed to get to work.

he opens the door to his apartment, hanging his jacket by the door and placing the mooncake on the table. he brings it to your sleeping form with a few headache tablets and a glass of water, leaving it on the bedside table.

he grabs a few of his clothes and heads in the the shower, drying off and deciding to take a short nap on the couch afterwards.

he falls asleep shortly, forgetting about the elephant in the room which waited to greet the two of you once you’ve woken up.

NOTES ♕❣⁂ღ

long awaited part two! i thought a prequel would be the best way to write a second part, and they can be read in any order :)

this story also takes place betweem episode two and episode four, during the flight to hong kong.

#balance unlimited #the millionare detective balance: unlimited #balance unlimited imagines #balance unlimited x reader #fugou keiji balance unlimited #haru kato #haru kato x reader #kato x reader #haru kato imagine

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yellow-faerie · 3 years

Note

Prompt 22 with Daeron, Maglor, and Ivarë?

Absolutely, this works so well! Also gives me an opportunity to try at my rewritten version of Ivárë’s adoption.

In fact, this prompt is so perfect, I’m going to use it as a prequel of sorts to my Tolkien OC entry for day 6!

From this prompt list.

22 - “That’s a baby.”

Daeron has never liked large gatherings, the heat of bodies pressed together and the noise of so many voices and the ever-changing world around him always becoming too much far too quickly for him to ever get too much enjoyment from them.

Maglor, on the other hand, seems to thrive off the atmosphere, much to Daeron’s utter befuddlement. He makes friends with seemingly everyone in the room (although he only occasionally introduces them to his husband knowing full well how overwhelming Daeron finds meeting too many new people in one day).

“Dae!” Maglor calls and appears from thin air, looking a little ruffled but perfectly exuberant all the same. “Here you are, I thought I’d lost you.”

Daeron raises an eyebrow. Maglor is certainly a bit more…distracted than usual as he usually keeps Daeron’s position always known in his peripherals. “I’ve been standing here for the entire party.”

“True.” Maglor pecks his lips, reaching down to twine their fingers together. “We can go now, if you want. I have a surprise for when we get home.”

Ah, that would be it. Maglor always gets excitable when he thinks he has the perfect present.

“A surprise?” Daeron asks aloud, playing into Maglor’s secrecy. “What sort of surprise?”

“Hopefully one you will like!”

The walk home is pleasant - the summer heat has cooled down enough so that it is not uncomfortable but not so much as to require a jacket.

All the while, Maglor talks about this rumour he heard from this person and some other person who actually attempted to eat their hat when proved wrong and one very strange woman in far too many layers who asked Maglor far too many very personal questions.

“It’s fine,” he says when Daeron makes a small sound of concern. “Someone took her aside and I think the owner of the pub made her leave.”

“Still, that’s rather suspicious. Maybe someone has noticed something? We have been living around here for quite a while.”

“It’s barely been five years Dae, I hardly think someone’s noticed we age unnaturally yet.”

This does little to curb Daeron’s worry but he tucks it away for a better time to discuss it - maybe when he’s proven correct over the matter and they have to move to Australia to fully distance themselves from the debacle.

“Lindanya, don’t worry,” Maglor squeezes their interlinked hands, “we can always relocate soon if it is truly bothering you.”

“No, no, it’ll…” he was going to say that it would probably be fine but then decides that lying was probably not the best idea. “We can talk about it in the morning when we are both less tired. Tell me more about the party.”

Maglor launches into a tale about someone who swallowed one of the decorative fruits on display (which left Daeron with more questions than answers) and he has just come to the dramatic conclusion when they arrive back at their front door.

“Should I close my eyes?” Daeron asks as Maglor fumbles with his keys.

Maglor looks up, confused. “Close your eyes?”

“For the surprise meleth?”

“Oh. Oh! Right, yes - the surprise. No, it’ll be perfectly alright to keep your eyes open. I hid it in the kitchen while you were fretting over being on time.”

Daeron hides a smile and says nothing.

“I’m not going to tell you just because you go all quiet and mysterious on me - ah, here we go.” Maglor finally collects the right key and puts it into the lock, jiggling it about before it finally gives way.

He drops his keys and wallet and the general insides of his trouser pockets in the truly horrible bowl on the corridor table that they got from Thranduil in the fifties that they haven’t got round to throwing out yet.

“Ready?” Maglor asks, almost vibrating with excitement (although Daeron will concede that it might also be the alcohol).

“Get on with it Mags,” Daeron says in reply, trying not to bely his anticipation.

Maglor swings back the kitchen door with a flourish and turns to Daeron, grinning triumphantly. “Ta da!”

Daeron turns on the light switch and sees a small baby carrier tucked among the paperwork piled on the kitchen table.

“Dearest,” he says, trying not to panic at the prospect that Maglor has stolen another child. “that’s a baby.”

“What?” Daeron watches as Maglor’s face falls and he spins around. “No it’s not! I didn’t…”

He trails off.

“Oh Eru above,” he says faintly. “It’s a baby.”

#Thank you so much for this prompt!#I’ve been thinking about changing round Ivárë’s adoption for a while now #Daeron #Maglor #Ivárë #Fae's OCs #Daemags #Silmarillion #Tolkien #Fanfiction #Fae's Stuff #Prompt #Prompt List 2 #Ask #hopefullystillliving

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iamakiller · 3 years

Text

Where Babies Come From

“Dad? I have a question.”

Our eyes meet over the top of Henry’s head, where he sits propped up by pillows between us on the bed. You bite your lip to hide your smile. My plan to bore my son to sleep has been a failure, it seems, since you are the only one who appears to be even slightly drowsy. As always, Henry’s thirst for knowledge - and wish to delay bedtime for as long as possible - has overruled all else.

I fight the urge to vent my frustration with a sigh. For all that his constant need to bombard me with questions can be rather tiresome, any negative feeling is vastly overruled by the gratitude I feel that we are all here together. “Yes, Henry?”

On this occasion, his question is actually related to the topic at hand. “Where’s Legolas? They’re in Mirkwood, right? So Legolas should be there. Where was the part where he chases after them and jumps on all the barrels? That was so awesome!”

This time, I allow myself a small sigh of displeasure. “Henry, what have I told you?”

“The book and the movies are very different,” he parrots, obediently.

“And?” I prompt, not quite as gently as I could, because he has somehow managed to omit the main point.

Henry scrunches up his face, trying to remember. “The book is better?” he offers, with more reluctance than I would like.

“The book is much better,” I affirm, with a satisfied nod. “And certainly didn’t necessitate three feature-length movies.”

“I just think Legolas is really cool …” he mutters under his breath, always keen to have the last word. Today I will allow it. He is young, and doesn’t know any better.

From the other side of the bed, I hear a small cough. You are undoubtedly concealing a laugh, because you do not understand how important this is. I honestly cannot comprehend how you, whose entire career is focused around literature, have somehow managed to never read a single word of Tolkien up until this point. But we are remedying this sad state of affairs week by week, as I introduce you and Henry - and Little b as well, if they are listening - to the prequel of one of my favorite series of books.

I set the book down on the bookshelf beside the bed, and ruffle Henry’s hair. “Time to go to sleep, honey.”

Now, another popular stalling tactic comes into play. Henry clutches at his throat like he is about to go into anaphylactic shock. “I’m so thirsty,” he croaks. “May I have a glass of water, please?”

“I’ll get it,” you offer, before I can query if he is actually as parched as he states. You swing your legs over the side of the bed and stand up, almost immediately grabbing onto the top of the wooden headboard, and squeezing your eyes shut as you do so.

I spring to my feet immediately. “Are you all right, my love?”

After a few seconds, you open your eyes, and offer a bright smile that is probably more for Henry’s benefit than mine, since he is also staring at you in concern. “I’m fine. I just stood up a little too quickly, that’s all.”

As soon as you leave the room, Henry turns to me, his brow furrowed with worry. “Is Britt okay, Dad?”

“Of course,” I assure him, injecting a level of cheer and confidence into my voice that I do not particularly feel. You probably are fine, but … what if you are not? I very much feel that I should have offered to go in your stead, but given that you have refused my help multiple times this week on the grounds that I am fussing over you too much, I thought that perhaps it was best not to push the issue again. Especially not in front of Henry, who has seen quite enough of the adults in his life bickering with each other ...

Henry doesn’t look convinced. “Are you sure?”

“Britt is fine, honey. Being pregnant is extremely hard work, so she has been experiencing a few unpleasant side-effects. But she is absolutely fine, I promise.”

Henry nods thoughtfully, lapsing into silence for a rare few seconds to fidget with his dinosaur-bedecked duvet cover. Then, as usual, there is something else. “I actually had a question about that,” he says ominously.

Over the course of the day, he has already queried what size Little b is at the present time, when we will know if they are a boy or a girl, and if I think they will like dinosaurs as much as he does. I do not know what else there is to ask. “Go on …”

“Well, I bought a book about babies on Amazon, and -”

I can’t help but interrupt him, to question him on this point. “Do you mean your mother bought you a book?” That would be a pleasant development indeed, though it seems unlikely, since she has barely said two words to me since our dinner at Sandra’s house.

Henry stares at me like I am being very dense. “Mom left one-touch ordering on. I can buy whatever I want. But anyway, I bought a book about babies. It’s called “Where Babies Come From” and it cost ten dollars, and I’ve read it three times, but Dad … the title is a lie! The book doesn’t actually tell you where babies come from-”

Mercifully, this alarming thread of conversation is interrupted by you returning with Henry’s water. You pass the glass to him, and he takes the tiniest sip imaginable before handing it back to you to place it on the nightstand for him. “Thanks, Britt,” he says. “I’m sorry you’re having unpleasant side-effects because of the pregnancy.”

You give me a slightly strange look, but smile fondly at Henry. “That’s very sweet of you.”

It is time, I think, for us to make a quick exit, while he is distracted ...

“Well, goodnight,” I say, beginning to stand up.

Unfortunately, as is often the case, luck is not on my side. Henry grabs my arm, preventing me from making my escape.

“I’m not done asking my question, Dad. I think there might be pages missing from the book. On page five, it says that the man and the woman have a very special cuddle. And then on the next page, it says that the sperm fertilizes the egg. But that doesn’t make sense. Isn’t the egg inside the woman? How does the sperm get in there?”

Oh lord ...

On the one hand, I am greatly impressed by my son’s curiosity and attention to detail. On the other hand, I want to crawl under the bed and hide.

Looking around the room for inspiration or assistance, my gaze falls on you. But it seems there will be no help to be found there. You are fighting so hard not to laugh that there are tears in your eyes. “Excuse me,” you splutter. “I’m going to go get a glass of water for myself. I’m having some side-effects, you know.”

I glare at your retreating back. How dare you abandon me so callously in my time of need? From the doorway, you turn and glance over your shoulder, giving me a small smile, before disappearing from sight. I will remember this, I think.

“Did you ask your mother?” I suggest, after a long pause in which Henry stares at me without blinking, waiting for me to impart my wisdom on this topic. If only I had some ... but my mind has gone alarmingly blank!

He nods vigorously. “Yeah. She said she couldn’t remember because “it happened so fast”. Then she said that you’re the one with the sperm, so I should ask you.”

Well, that is simply marvelous. It seems I have been thrown under the bus by my current wife, and my treacherous ex. Of course, I knew this question would come eventually, since Henry has been so interested in the topic. But I was not anticipating it for quite some time, and certainly not out of the blue like this. What am I supposed to tell him? What on earth is appropriate knowledge for an eight year-old? I try to mine my own childhood learning for inspiration, but save for Biology lessons in high school in which everyone sniggered at the diagrams in the textbook, I do not remember much of anything being said about reproduction during my time in the education system. Certainly not in elementary school.

“Dad?”

This is ridiculous. I am being ridiculous. I will simply do what I have always done, and tell him the facts as best I can.

“There are no pages missing from your book, Henry” I assure him. “It is quite correct that the man and woman have ‘a special cuddle.’” The wording of that euphemistic phrase is so vile that I almost gag on the words. “And at the end of that cuddle, the man ... puts his sperm inside the woman.”

My little scholar is unsatisfied by my very slight elaboration on what this cursed book has taught him. “Yes, but how? I don’t understand …”

God have mercy on me ...

“Well, he puts a part of himself inside the woman for the duration of the, ah, ‘cuddle’.”

As Henry opens his mouth once more to ask for clarification, I think I actually feel a part of my soul leave my body. “What part? One time I saw a kissing scene in a movie Mom told me not to watch, and the boy put his tongue in the girl’s mouth. Is that what you mean?”

Making a mental note to question Nicole on how closely she is supervising our son, I take a deep breath and answer his question, trying to ignore how ridiculously warm my face feels. “Not quite. Actually, the man puts his penis in the woman’s vagina.”

It was much less embarrassing to say it out loud than I had imagined it would be. I feel a sense of relief - then amusement - wash over me as I take in Henry’s reaction to my words. His eyes have gone as wide as saucers, and both of his hands are now covering his mouth. “Oh my god!” he mumbles, through his fingers. “That’s so gross!”

“I can assure you it isn’t gross at all,” I tell him. That I am quite confident about, at least.

Henry peels his hands away from his face, not looking convinced at all, in spite of my certainty on the matter. “I am never putting my penis in a vagina,” he declares. I will undoubtedly remind him of this when he is older. “I think I’m ready to go to sleep now,” he tells me, avoiding my gaze, and burrowing right under the lightweight duvet.

Breathing a sigh of relief, I run through the rest of his familiar bedtime routine. The most important point is that I must check under the bed for monsters. As usual, I find none, though there is rather a lot of Lego which he will be required to clean up in the morning. The pillows are arranged just right for him, the covers are pulled down slightly so that he can breathe, and I kiss his forehead and stroke his hair just as I used to when he was a baby.

I bid him goodnight, and close his bedroom door gently behind me. Although he still has a tendency to wander in and join us in the night, I have a strong suspicion that he will stay put tonight. I can only hope that he will be feeling a little less awkward in the morning.

When I turn around, I find you standing right behind me, grinning from ear to ear. “I enjoyed that better than the book,” you inform me. It seems you have been standing here listening the entire time ...

“Do you think I’ve traumatized him?” I ask. It is an extreme question, but a genuine one. “What if he never has a relationship with another human being because of the dreadful way in which I handled that conversation?”

You grab my hand and squeeze it, still smiling. “You did very well,” you reassure me. “I’m sure he’s fine. If he’s still interested, perhaps you could ask him to bring the book with him next week, and we can read it together?”

I cannot think of anything worse than reading the book together, but as always, you have managed to placate me with ease. I raise your hand to my lips, and kiss the back of it in a silent thank you. “This isn’t just a ploy to get out of reading the next chapter of The Hobbit, is it?” I ask, already quite sure of the answer.

When I glance up at your face, your eyes are sparkling with mischief. “It’s getting late,” you say, the corners of your lips twitching as you evade my question entirely. “Why don’t we go to bed? I was hoping you could teach me all about those ‘special cuddles’ you seem to be such an expert on.”

I glare at you for your teasing, then snake one of my arms around your waist, pulling you towards me. My hand settles on the swell of your stomach, the exact source of your unpleasant side-effects, and all of Henry’s awkward questions. “Hmm. It seems I already have.”

But I will be more than happy to remind you. As many times as you require it.

I am an expert on the subject, after all.

#24/01/2021 #B+C #B+C+h #B+C+h+b #direnightshade #is embarrassment a trigger warning?#tw: pregnancy

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amjustagirl · 2 years

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HI NIKKI JIE omg its been ages since ive dropped in how are you!! eep i read ch 8 of when the sun loves the moon DAYS ago and ive been meaning to drop in to scream about it but got caught up with squid game (i want to scream the ending made my heart pain T^T) then with school :")

i dont even have words to describe how much i loved it aaaaa bokuto fighting to stay on her team, her finally bringing him to meet her mum, everything theyve been through together gdkjfkkdsk it was such a rollercoaster honestly having not one but tWO major angst plot points 😭 but i absolutely loved the ending soso much; their wedding (eAting at a yakiniku place with their teammates and friends pls thats the dream sia🥺) and omg that sneak peak at their life with kousuke kouichi AND kouji fjskdjksjs helpp that was soo freaking adorable and i think this thing with showing where they are many years down the road is not really something youve done before in your prev longfics ? (not including all your outtakes ofc) but you did it here and aaa i was squealing so hard it was so sweet 😭 fjskfjs hELP im so excited to see what outtakes youll have for them next time (kouichi and sachiko mayhaps 👀 HAHA) AND THEM SWITCHING IMAGERIES AT THE END HAD ME SCREAMING PLS 🥺 help not the way you revealed mizuki's name early cuz someone thought she was called tsukki HAHAHAHAH nikki jie you damn funny 🤣

eep i saw you have a prequel kuroo fic and osamu fic coming up 👀👀 CANT WAIT

oHOH and i think you mentioned before that you figured out which uni i go to, just from all my kendo references??? HAHAHAH RLY AH i dont keep up with other schools kendo so i have no idea whats the diff LOL (i thought the reading/midterms week schedule would have been more obvious cuz i think the rest diff from us LMAO) ok la but tbh i think most ppl go to one of the three main unis so i dont think its that hard to figure out HAHAHA

oh also i saw you made mr nikki start watching haikyuu?? hOWS THAT GOING HAHA help ive been rewatching it alot recently and my mum keeps asking me 'isnt that the volleyball one you finished watching already??' HAHAHH

hope you have a good week ahead nikki jie 💓 ~ann :>

Hello Ann meimei!

Squid game truly hurt me to the core (I just get attached to the characters and its just game over for my heart). I hope school isn't too hiong for you haha and I figured it out quickly enough bcos it's my alma mater after all!

And thank you again again again for your love for when the sun loves the moon! Every notif fr you truly makes my day and I'm glad you loved the unadulterated fluff I poured in! They're lovely and sweet tgt, and I guess subconsciously after all the angst I put them through, I really wanted to make sure you guys know that they're both truly happy, with their chaotic trio of little sons and their huge group of friends. They relocate back to Tokyo after bo's retirement (sakusa too), so kuroo, bo and sakusas kids end up playing together a lot! Esp sachiko and kousuke...and aiko and kouichi, if I recall whose kids I'm talking abt!

Pls lor I was horrified at the thought of ppl thinking mizuki shares the same name as tsukki LOL and I feel like tsukki wld flip (like omi) if he ended up related to bo.

And yes! I do intend to write more fics, the kuroo prequel is a monster and no where near done, the osamu one is on the back burner but still there! Have patience with me 😊

Hehe yesssss I'm having such a blast rewatching hq w Mr nikki! He was shocked when I told him he reminds me a little of kuroo (the snarky science nerd bit) but he doesn't know I think he reminds me of osamu either, cos hes still at season 2 only! He's v entertained by tanaka and noya cos he used to be in a team sport in sch, so it reminds him of his friends and their antics (where they just share one brain cell!)

I hope you have a good week too Ann meimei ♥️

#Nikki chats!#when the sun loves the moon #ann<3

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blankdblank · 4 years

Text

Wicked

“Hey, Nat?”

Naturally poking a trained killer would have anyone on the wrong end of the death stick. But after your years of building a friendship after having literally totaled the top three floors of Stark Tower by having crashed into it stopping a shuttle from obliterating the city, post border crossing with some alien scavengers who had knocked it off course she knew how hard it had been for you. Years of reigning in your strength and even control of your voice that could sway others to doing what you wanted later, she smirked still every time you stole a successful pat on her arm without bruising it or knocking her around by accident.

“Hey, hope you enjoyed your day, just spent mine wrangling some four legged creepers out of the Dodgers Stadium.”

Steve from the other side of the counter in the kitchen called back, “Hey! That kid tripped me, none of that was my fault!”

Sam scoffed, still muttering to himself rubbing a cloth vigorously onto his jacket to get a mustard stain off of it. From the scuffle ending the pair of them on the news while Bucky was dangling from the balcony to the dugout shouting at one of the players who had made a kid cry after he’d gotten struck out yet again.

“Well, it was, mainly, online, browsing.” Her brow inched up noting your nerves peaking up again meaning things might start levitating around the room soon. “I have a question, favor really.”

“Sure, whatcha got for me? Anything to get me out of the on call pool tonight.”

“Well, you’re good at blending in,” she nodded, “And I got these tickets, but I don’t know how fancy is too fancy to go see a show on Broadway, and all I have might be a bit too sparkly after my sequin,” your tone slowed as she stood up and grabbed her coat, “Shopping, trip.”

You looked her over and she gave you a kind grin, “Let’s go shopping. Find you something stunning.”

Trotting after her on your toes you said, “Well, not too stunning, I mean I have some voom, but I don’t want to be too va va voom, to a show. It’s not my show, I’m just going.” Again she smirked at you hitting the button for the elevator, “It’ll be dark, but I don’t want to distract. I just, by all accounts I shouldn’t be able to afford the show, but I helped that guy with that bus crash and he said his son works the counter and knows another guy he didn’t name and they put me down for tickets for whichever show I wanted. Which really isn’t all that logical a gift I mean they’re losing out funds to give me two seats-,”

Her hand folded around yours pulling it from twisting around your shirt button. “Pluto, you stopped a bus from plowing through the theater on Broadway, everyone that works there owes it to you that they still have their jobs and the theater and production companies all because you flicked your hand to stop a bus and help an old man that stumbled off the curb. Two seats is so far from damaging to how badly that crash would have been. You earned it. Now what did you want to wear?” She asked stepping into the lift.

“Well, I wanted to wear one of my sequin minis, but again, sparkly, I didn’t want to distract. So, black perhaps. Many films have said that a simple black dress should be a staple to one’s wardrobe.”

“That it should. I prefer black, always does the trick, and don’t you worry about your va va voom. Only people worried about your voom will be dropping dead quickly enough from jealousy.”

“I don’t believe that is how jealousy works.” Making her smirk again and pat your arm, “Ah, another verbal intricacy.”

Over a black bandage dress set to hug you perfectly you looked to your friend while she suggested a pair of heels she had gone with you to buy months prior after seeing her sighing over a shoe sale advertised in a magazine you asked, “This weekend, are you busy?”

“Unfortunately. That when your show is?”

“Yes,”

“Well I could see if Bucky could stand in for me.”

Shaking your head you said, “No, they need a brain there. I can, ask someone, someone fun.” The sentence and sure nod you had given yourself in a sweeping glance over the store had her holding back a chuckle and glancing back to the rack of shrugs you might like with a bit of shimmer to fit your preferred palette of a tad bit sparkly and a blend of colors resembling galaxies. Her focus there bringing you back on your mental ramblings as to who to ask dipping back into picking out something to help keep you warm in case it got a bit chilly.

Back to the tower you went and through each room you went pausing to glance at each person inside, every person in varying levels of being accustomed to your awkward ways, always with Peter overreacting. That tingly sense he got that he was being observed while distracted ended up with him chucking his the mask Tony had just finished polishing for his new suit halfway across the room into the rubbish bin making Tony’s jaw drop open with a stunned scoff.

Noticing it was you however Peter turned and sprung across the room, “Sorry Tony, habit.”

Tony, “I just polished it…”

Peter, “Just so used to it being my Aunt, not Miss Pluto.” Digging it out and buffing it with the elbow of his sweater.

Passing that room you continued on to the study where you found your chosen target. Right onto the cushion beside the raven haired Prince, who was seated with brows furrowed in focus on his Mahjong game on his tablet, you sat luring his eyes right to you as your legs were crossed between you and your finger tapped his elbow. “You’re fun.”

The grin on your face causing him to lower the tablet to his lap and shift in his seat in confusion, “It has been some time since I have been told that. Might I ask the importance of my talents of amusement?”

“Well, see I have tickets to a show, and you’re a Prince, Princes go to shows all the time so I thought I might see if you wanted to go with me.”

“There are two Princes in this building.”

“Yes, however, I would prefer to not ask Thor, he would draw the wrong sort of attention while I am meaning to see the show, not distract from it. No doubt he’d get bored and start juggling chairs or something.” The thought making Loki smirk your way.

“That is my argument in my favor? The ability to behave myself in tedious situations?”

“Absolutely not.” You fired back making him smirk at you. “See, I have tickets and Nat helped me to pick out a dress and you’re a Prince and Princes go to shows but normally I don’t fit the look of someone who could afford Broadway tickets. I figured if you might go then I might not be taken as out of place because, well, Prince.”

The final word was accented with another poke only luring his smirk out more, “Even without me you would fit in perfectly.” In the sink of your brows he stated, “I shall go, when is the show?”

“Saturday.”

He nodded then looked you over as you moved to turn so you might stand asking, “Why do you let them call you Pluto? That is the name they have assigned your home planet, but not your name.”

Your eyes met his, “Not everyone has a name so kind to tongues as yours, Prince Loki.”

“Your name is very kind,”

“They lack the vocal vibration necessary to perfectly pronounce my name without issuing insult. Pluto is a lovely alias.”

“Why did you choose this planet?”

“My father tried to eat me.” His brow inched up, “Unlike Asgardians our Lords may only father one child.”

“He required a son.”

“No, he burned for one.”

“I suppose it would be safer for you to remain here then and not return home. Figures you might try to acclimate. Though Asgard would always welcome you.”

“Oh yes, who could be concerned with the Jotuns once a Plunoie has touched their golden grounds.”

“They would never treat you as I have been. You are the daughter of a Lord and will be treated as such.”

“Says you,”

“Even Thor is fond of your company and Mother has always been curious of Pluto. She would defend you.”

“All the same, enjoy your game Prince Loki. Go for the dragon.” His brow arched up and he looked to his tablet again finding the matching dragon tiles he tapped making him smirk at a lotus tile he needed.

There was no question of what you had chosen, merely the creeping joy that he was the Prince you had chosen to support you in this. He knew all too well just how fragile these creatures could be and how long it had taken him to master his own skills to remain among them for their safety. Far superior to their beings without a drop of cruelty in you he had to marvel how you pushed yourself to control easing yourself to safe levels among mortals within a few meager years while it took Asgardians hundreds with scarce blip of trips to Midguard to test their control among them. If you had asked for support in this support you would get from him on this occasion and any other.

Wicked. The word was splashed across the billboards and posters and at the door you showed your tickets that seemed to trigger a ripple of gestures ushering you and Prince Loki through the crowds with great ease straight to your seats right up front with what they called the best view in the house. The people around you and the task of getting here just barely enough to keep him from staring at you dumbly since Pepper had made sure that he and you managed to get into the elevator at all in the double sided stare down.

Settled down in place with legs crossed for you both Loki’s gaze shifted from the playbill in his lap to the lanterns on the walls flickering luring focus to you. Without missing a beat up his arm went to rest across the armrest between you to ease his fingertips between the palms of your hands tangling in your lap from nerves. Once your eyes fell on him through the vibrating pulses that had started to form in your hands his fingers eased to intertwine with yours acting as a buffer to stop the reaction interfering with the electronics in the block. Lowly he whispered to you mentally, “You are doing lovely so far. Just breathe.”

“Have you seen this show before?”

“No. Although I have read it is something of a prequel to the Wizard of Oz.”

“I do hope it does not bore you.”

Again his eyes shifted to glance at his hand fixed in yours stirring an urge to beam brightly like an idiot for finally claiming more than a greeting poke from you. The action a way of proving that unlike the mortals you didn’t have to hold back with him or be afraid to harm him, and have one person on this planet who didn’t leave you a nervous wreck to upset or harm by accident. Also unaware of how much his action had comforted you in his fearless taking of your hand. Finally having some form of contact with a being strong enough to equal yourself, at least in day to day tasks and situations.

“You could never bore me.” The words echoed in your head a few moments until a snap of a picture being snapped of the pair of you by a woman hurrying by had your focus on her. Only to see an usher come to escort her out for disturbing fellow ticket holders stirring up an argument from her she was unable to win as when told to delete the photo to get in she posted it online. “See, no one ever wants my picture.”

You glanced at him to the stroke of his thumb along the side of your hand, “No doubt more comments will pop up to see what I destroy this time.”

“Another reason why I am your ideal companion on outings, equally as culpable for damage to the public. I don’t mind playing the villain to spare you unjust scorn.” Softly he gazed back at you with an easy grin on his face shifting to the warning the show was beginning in a moment. Over the audience a hush fell and your eyes shifted to the curtain in the dimming of the lights signaling his own hand to tighten a tad from his own nerves and yours to fold around his.

‘No One Mourns the Wicked’ seemed to set the mood that they were setting up the lead role for Elphaba to be the main focus. ‘The Wizard and I’ though lovely seemed to make your stomach sink knowing how the sequel ends. By ‘No Good Deed’ you and Loki both leaned together, with your second hand clutching his sleeve at the elbow resting into his arm while he did the same to yours. Up with the crowds you stood with his hand keeping your hand he looped around his elbow saying, “You can just pat my arm.” Knowing your timid stance on clapping too hard so he clapped and you merely tapped finger tips around his arm easily disguised in the dim audience and while the lights rose an usher came to escort you both out first to keep you from being hounded by press while they lined up for the stage door experience.

“That-,” out of the pair of you for the show was all you could muster up to discus the flawless yet all too familiar notions behind the role. Good intentions landing someone as a named villain hounded and insulted at any chance given. Outside your car had been called by the valet and into it you eased with Loki strolling around to drive. Stealing a glance your way he buckled up then shifted in his seat with blinker on to pull out heading back to the tower.

Glancing your way again to your soft sigh he heard you say, “It’s so sad.”

“Yes it is. Wonderful, but sad.”

“I thought it was supposed to be happy. Pepper said it was the better choice of the two offered. Other one’s about chess. She said it was sad.”

Loki’s brows furrowed at the slowing of the traffic making him stop asking, “If the chess one was sad by her terms no doubt we would have left absolutely depressed.”

Sudden clunks of buildings going dark from a rolling blackout had groans filling the street and glancing around you checked the cars around you and lifted your hand to try and hover the car back only for Loki to pat the back of it saying, “I’ve got it.” One swish of his hand and the car was coated in green glowing smoke that in a flash had you parked in its usual spot back in Stark Tower Garage. “Now, for another surprise. I promised you dinner.”

Curiously out you climbed once he’d teleported to open the door with hand offered to help you up, making certain to keep close. Once again taking in each tempting detail of your unbelievable self just barely a foot in front of him. “Cooking? You cook?” You asked seeing him all but glowing in the faint light from the emergency beams in each corner while the tower whirred powering up on its backup generator.

At that he smirked saying, “I am now.” Again his hand melded to yours through your soft squeak. “Heimdall,” Bright lights flooded the garage to the Bifrost opening and once inside the golden dome your eyes dropped to the plume of a rainbow coated cloud of vapor escaping your lips. Lifting your hand you grinned seeing your skin again naturally glimmering with prisms of light, rainbows dancing across it in each movement. Looking up to Loki your eyes were no longer purple but in each glance away reflected the same galaxies the curls laid down your back in a dangling strip from the end of your rolled over bun Wanda had helped to pin securely.

“Welcome back Prince Loki,” the head of the gold clad guardian bowed to him then turned to you speaking in your own tongue rather roughly, “Welcome, Lady.”

Smirking at him you replied, “I take it-,” your words halted seeing the cloud escaping your lips much like the ones when freshly landed on Earth had caused earthquakes after affecting the atmosphere luring your free hand to your lips.

Loki stated in a pat of his fingertips on your arm, “You are safe to our planet,” meant exactly as he had said it, turning your head to catch his nod, “Our atmosphere is much thicker than Midguard. You are safe here.”

Facing the guard again you said, “You are Heimdall.”

“I am, yes.”

“Did you see the show?”

“Yes, while you are here perhaps you may prefer one of ours.”

Loki’s hand still holding yours shifted as he said, “For now, I am cooking us supper.”

Heimdall’s brow inched up, “I am not doubting your skill, however, Queen Frigga has put much effort into its preparation.”

Flatly Loki replied, “Breakfast then.” Making the guard smirk at his first step down the golden steps you looked down to taking a step at a time with the Prince pausing to see the pencil skirt fighting against the movement.

It was only two steps yet all the more adorable when you caught his eye saying, “I neglected to practice on stairs.”

Heimdall glanced away pretending the blush inching onto Loki’s cheeks replying, “Mastered already.”

Nodding you replied, “For every lie you tell me I expect five steps in a handstand,” he smirked at you and chuckled as you added, “I will waive this first offence.”

“I did not lie.” You paused with a brow raised and he repeated, “I did not lie! That second step, you mastered it.” Your eyes narrowed slightly and his dazed grin eased out making you turn away.

“I am watching you.” He nodded stepping as you did out into the bright moonlight that dimmed your impressive colorful shimmer to your shielded yet still glittering self cast in rainbows reflecting the bridge the Prince led you across.

“That I am grateful for.” He hummed pointing out clusters of stars until you got far enough from the Bifrost he could turn and point saying, “And that-,”

“Pluto.” Stepping back he watched your eyes dart to the bridge and up again to the distant city shining brightly making you ask, “Is it hard to clean, all that gold?”

Smirking at you he replied, “We have our ways to ensure it remains intact and glimmering for guests.” All the way across he pointed out different locations until the guards around the city curiously looked over the new guest everyone was curious about. Thor had brought handfuls of guests home but you were the first Loki had invited, as well as the first of your race, leaving no clue on what to expect.

Golden halls with thick tapestries ended in what you could take as the throne room by the massive golden throne looking far from comfortable. Each shadow you passed through between flaming bowl stands brought out your same glowing appearance from the Bifrost fading away again in the light of the flames cast your way. Right in front of the throne you eyed the blonde woman clad in an elegant green gown Loki released your hand to embrace. “Mother,” he said smiling looking her over to turn to you still smiling brightly halting your head nod her way a moment, “I would like to introduce my guest,”

Frigga cut him off, “Please do tell us your true name, I would not wish to disrespect you by using the name Midgardians can pronounce.”

Through a deep breath you wet your lips replying, “I am called, Ku-l’ua Jaqiearae.” The name a faint echoing hum from your lullaby tone.

Frigga nodded her head repeating, “Lady, Ku-l’ua,”

That had you giggle and say, “No, Ku is exiled, l’ua is Heir of what you might call Duke. On my planet my rank was T’y’pn-eo. Third Heir of, Duke. And it is said after my name, I was given the name but exile was my choice. But Lady Jaqiearae will suffice here, Queen Frigga.”

Frigga smiled saying, “We shall master your titles soon, Lady Jaqiearae. For now, we have a lovely meal waiting for you.”

“Thank you.”

Her arm circled Loki’s as he offered it and she asked, “How was the show?”

Loki’s lips pursed and he replied, “Well, for a rather light hearted theme it bore quite the drastic undertone.”

Dinner went well and at Loki’s shared comment on breakfast you were granted a spare set of pajamas flowing and not silken as they appeared, though much like in mangas you had seen with a frilly top and barely visible frilly shorts underneath in a pale blue. Either way you were here to sleep although wide eyed after simply touching the bed a waft of rose shot through the air in the puff of smoke erupting from the golden silk sheet under the folded back thickly embroidered comforter in a dark grey. Glancing from your hands to the sheets again you turned to your balcony Loki had commented being shared by his room, across a small gap of course, so he might call you out to see the first of their two suns rising. “Pst!”

Lounging in his favorite pajamas on his fainting couch with his favorite book his grin dimmed a moment turning his head to his open balcony, “Loki!” This time you had whispered a tad louder luring the Prince to close his book and stand up to venture out hearing a second, “Pst!” Not three steps later you repeated, “Lo-,” out he stepped with brows raised curious what the problem was while you took in his long forest green shirt clad self seemingly in no pants visible by the length of his shirt baring strips of his toned thighs. “I lit my bed on fire.”

His brows shot up more planting his hands on the rail between you trying to glance inside your room, “You-,”

“It’s out now.” His eyes were on you again then in a puff of green smoke he zapped to your side walking into your room, “I didn’t mean to. I just touched the sheet and, pfft,”

He glanced at you, “Smoke, makes, a, pfft.”

After a few blinks he asked, “Why does it reek of roses in here?”

“I can’t touch flowers,” He glanced at you again, “Pfft,”

Trying not to smile at your worried wide eyed star-like self he turned easing his hand around you to plant on your back guiding you to the balcony, “Stay with me tonight.”

“But, they said that’s my room.”

On the balcony you glanced around at the puff of green smoke coating then washing away on the breeze from you both at his zapping you to his balcony, “Well we certainly can’t stay out here. The guards change in two minutes.” Leading you inside to his much comfier looking silver and black monster of a bed on a raised platform coated in spotted fur blankets layered across it lit by the roaring fireplace behind his former reading spot. “No flowers here. Get some sleep, I planned on reading a bit first.”

Timidly you did climb into his bed laying an absurd six feet in directly in the middle with a huge fur pillow under your head. Twelve curious minutes you laid there wondering at the lack of a page being turned, looking again to Loki as you rolled onto your side, asking after nearly a half hour of failing to fall asleep. “What are you reading?” His eyes flinched up to you utterly forgetting the book in his hands or the subject it was on by your starlight self glowing so cozily from his bed.

Softly he sighed finding his feet and closing his book he carried over and once he had settled onto the bed in front of you a few feet away he propped himself up reading the cover to you before starting on the first page. “Are you tired?” You asked after his fourth time rereading a line he’d already read aloud to the shift of one of your feet or hands making you wonder if he was simply tired or if you were distracting him from the task at hand somehow. The thought made more amusing by the trickle of a faint blush across his cheeks.

“I believe a few more pages might be managed before I retire.”

“Perhaps I might try to sleep. I bid you a mortal goodnight rest, Prince Loki.”

Faking a shift to roll over you hid your urge to smirk when he looked your way asking, “A mortal goodnight,” with a sigh he said, “Perhaps one day you might share a Plunoie goodnight.”

“If you are certain, I will oblige.” Up you inched to prop up on a hip and hand closing the distance between you freezing the Prince in place to the fall of your shadow over his cheek. A whisper, or perhaps the tap of a nose or forehead, possible trace of a finger across skin or cup of a cheek. A slap would even have been expected before this, as from the square of his jaw across his cheek to his forehead the skin on his face rippled blue with ridges easing out following the trace of your tongue. “May asteroids barrage your nightmares, Prince Loki.”

Back you shifted to lay in your former spot feeling his wide red eyed stare following you, voice lost for only moments before he could ask, “Plunoie, lick, one another, to sleep?”

Shaking your head his mouth dropped open to your spreading smile, “Nope.”

“Ugh, trickster,” he said dropping his book at his side in a slide closer, “I will show you a goodnight of my own.” Ruffling up the covers to have nothing between him and your curled self drawing a squeak from you stirring a cloud of mist above the bed glimmering like a storm of stars in a sunset sky. To your giggle when his hands found your waist easing you up against his side the clouds spread to fill the room releasing a group of firefly like lights that flew around withering after moments while the multicolored blush more Technicolor strobe light than your usual rainbow prism glimmer across your cheeks split his smile wide in curiosity for what the sudden reaction really meant in that moment.

Leaning over you his hand rose from your waist to tenderly trace up your cheek opposite him, cupping it ever so gently ghosting his thumb slower to meet the rest of his fingers adoring the feel of the skin underneath he’d so longed to touch. From hovering above you his face lowered and cheek to cheek in a lullaby of a whisper in Asgardian, “To my star most precious and pure, dreams of adventure and bliss I bid thee, most dear one.” Eye to eye again when he drew back the lights spread again to the deepening of an adoring gaze from the Prince absorbing each intimate moment of this. Forehead to forehead his head rested to your mental count of four followed by alternating taps of his nose on either side of yours reaching that same number. “Rest well, Ku-l’ua Jaqiearae”

Back he pulled to lay back again in his old spot and you asked watching him, “What was the whisper?”

Bringing a finger to his lips in the lift of his book again he shushed you narrowing your eyes, “Sleep now.”

“Five steps, now.” Back to your face his eyes shifted seeing you point, “Handstand for the lie.”

“I did not lie. Merely said sleep now.”

“Now you order me about?”

“I would not dare.”

“Handstand.”

“No,”

“No?” You giggled out luring his eyes to the firefly like lights distracting him against your push on his side bumping him off his bed. To cushion his fall he stirred up a green cloud dissipating to lower him gently contrasting his otherwise painful landing.

Locking his eyes on you his narrowed in a sharp huff, “You boot me from my own bed?”

“You are not getting back in this bed until you give me my five steps.”

“Fine, next Saturday however you are entirely at my mercy, no arguments on my plans, not a one.” Without awaiting your response forward he forced himself off the platform onto his palms in a steady handstand halting a moment to the drop of the lower portion of the shirt folding over his torso revealing a strip of his belly above his shorts now revealed with buttons down the side of his thighs. One at a time once centered five steps were taken and on the sixth he turned dropping a leg to take his weight granting him a steady rise up in lowering the second to walk back to the bed. “Five steps, as demanded.”

Slyly through the spread of his smirk he hummed out, “Now,” back onto his bed he hopped easing from his knees to his former spot and closer still, “Sleep,” again you giggled at the tug you felt on your middle in his arm scooping you onto your side, back against his chest you settled with his one arm under your neck and the other around your middle. Colorful lights and mists thickened deepening the smirk hidden in the hair hiding the face burrowing into it. Down below the oddly colorful balcony steps from patrolling guards were heard passing by crossing to opposite check points, a sound like the again steadying of his heartbeat lulling you to sleep. Behind you however the Prince’s mind whirled out of control wondering what he might just plan, both for breakfast and again for next Saturday.

Somewhere between sleep and wonder a prickle down his arm triggered the droop of his arm heavier around your waist showing sign of his sudden drop off to sleep. A calming numbness knowing that you had fallen asleep on his arm somehow signaled a much needed rest to begin. A sign that unlike when he slept on his side alone held him in place to not wake you, where alone would have him rolling over. Surely remaining awake would only prolong the discomfort so his body chose for him to keep you in place. Breakfast promised however just before sunrise stirred him and groggily he murmured, “Jaqiearae,” the gentle shake he gave drew a grumble in return only urging his head rolling back to confirm by how much light in his room he had to the first of two sunrises had him ease back scooping you up in his conscious arm leaving the other to drop over your curled legs while it stirred.

Half awake his feet carried the both of you to the same balcony he charmed his lounge to the perfect spot to settle down feeling the deep waking breaths from you alerting you would not miss this stunning sight far from your beauty, yet one you had yet to see. Down to the kitchens he led you startling more than a few servants along the way but none more than those coming in to find your giggling self smiling to his oddly adorable lopsided waffle stick castle surrounded by a moat of eggs with meat monsters throughout to be flooded with the as yet unnamed but oh so delicious sauce inside the castle seeping out to mingle their flavors excellently. The mess once all eaten was cleaned up by the both of you ending to the bubble coated Prince chasing your shrieking and giggling self after a surprise attack giving him a fading mustache sliding down around his neck.

Clearing his throat however once he’d caught you the sight of his mother on the other side of the fountain you had been caught trying to avoid he nodded his head saying, “Mother.”

Grinning herself she nodded her hear replying, “Loki dear, do be certain to add the singing fountains of silver on the southern courtyard once you have finished your tour of this one.”

“Yes, I shall.” On your upper back his hand settled stating, “My Grandmother settled the arrangements for these stones herself, and were she not carrying Mother perhaps laid them herself.” Just past another statue and in his hand yours rose to his lips for a jaw dropping lick down the back of your hand. Right after he released you and it was your turn to chase the now fleeing Prince chuckling himself at your stunned squeak.

@himoverflowers, @theincaprincess, @aspiringtranslator, @sweeticedtea, @thegreyberet, @patanghill17, @jesgisborne, @curvestrology, @alishlieb, @jogregor, @armitageadoration, @fizzyxcustard, @here2have-fun, @lilith15000, @marvels-ghost, @catthefearless, @imjusthereforthereads, @c-s-stars, @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore, @mariannetora, @shes-a-killer-kween, @ggbbhehe4455

X Loki - @pastelhexmaniac

X Marvel-Cast - @himoverflowers, @theincaprincess, @changlingkhat

#Loki x Reader OC #Marvel #Wicked #New Planets #New Friends #Trickster

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black-streak · 4 years

Text

Saturday Night's Alright for Fighting (but Sundays are meant for rest) - The Beginning

Part 1

So I came up with this partially fleshed out idea on discord and decided to try writing a prequel of sorts to my HCs? Anyways, Mari is like 20ish and Tim is around 25 here. Pre-relationship.

~---~

Marinette would forever be grateful that she had memorized the layout of the manor back in her first few visits. Otherwise she would have been absolutely lost by now; her sleep addled mind unwilling to give a single thought as to where she was walking. The only thought she could process was a cry for coffee whispering like a mantra through the back of her mind.

Turning a seemingly random corner, she found herself in the side kitchen standing in front of the coffee maker, already holding a fresh pot of the heavenly smelling life elixir. Okay, that's a bit dramatic, but whatever, it's 3 am and she's entitled to her theatrics.

Pouring a cup into her favorite mug, having had it appear before her despite not recalling retrieving it, she held it close and made way to the sit-in table, slumping down into the closest seat.

It took about 10 minutes and half her mug down to realise she wasn't alone in the room. Turning her head slightly, she spotted Tim typing away at his laptop, his own mug just to the right of her arm.

'When the hell did he get there?' She couldn't remember hearing any footsteps or the coffee pot pouring but then… she also didn't remember turning it on…. 'He's been here the whole time, hasn't he?'

Turning back towards her own, she finished off the cup and got up to retrieve the pot, moving over to fill both of their mugs before returning it to its holder only to drop back into her seat beside him, leaning closer to see what he was working on.

"Thanks."

Jumping slightly, she just blinked at him for a moment, then gave a slight nod.

"Couldn't sleep?" Tim glanced at her, inquiry quiet and half incoherent in its murmur.

Humming softly she considered before truthfully admitting, "Rarely can."

"Damian asleep then?"

"Probably."

"You're not sure?"

"Didn't want to check his room and bother him if he was. Plus, he'd be cranky if I woke him for no reason."

That seemed to catch Tim's attention for whatever reason, because he turned his eyes off the document to look at her fully now.

"You don't sleep in his room?"

"Nah. I tend to cuddle in my sleep and he can't stand being confined like that. Puts him on edge, I think."

That only prompted an even more perplexed look from him. Unable to process that with so little sleep, she turned back to looking over his shoulder, trying to read what Tim was working on. Giving up, she looked back up to him.

"Whatcha working on?"

"Eh, just some last minute paperwork for a new deal WE is suppose to be negotiating next week."

"... At 3am?"

"You judging me," he asked, lifting one eyebrow slightly in amusement at the hypocrisy.

"You said the deal is for next week."

"It is. But if I get it done now, it's one less thing to stress over at the last second."

"But if you read it on a sleep deprived mind, you're less likely to recall anything you typed up. Meaning you'll have to reread it…. And depending on how dead tired you are, might have to rewrite it. Who knows what sleepy you thinks makes a good deal?"

"Hey! Sleepy me is perfectly capable of working without my brain's input."

Leaning over the counter to rest on her crossed arms, Mari tilted her head slightly to pout up at him.

"Yes but perhaps it'd be best to do so tomorrow and get your brain's input at the same time to save time? Come on, just put on a video or something mindless. I'll keep you company."

Her logic was sound. There was no argument Tim could give that would actually work in his favor on the matter, but hearing a slight sigh of defeat still gave her an immense sense of victory. Peering over at her, he decided turnaround was fair.

"Alright… but if we're not going to work, you should be trying to sleep. Im cutting you off." He said, pulling her mug out of her reach only to find it empty. Sighing, he moved to set it in the sink only to see her take up his own, carrying it over as well.

"In that case, so should you," she smirked, washing out both mugs and setting them to dry before taking up his laptop, grabbing his wrist, and tugging him towards the living room.

'How did I not see that coming? That was the obvious outcome… when Was the last time I slept,' Tim wondered, not really paying mind to Mari as she situated them both on the couch, turning the screen to face them both from the coffee table, youtube pulled up and a vine compilation being queued up to play.

…..

Half an hour later, the two were passing jokes back and forth, sleepy giggles and references whispered into the dark room, laptop forgotten and asleep before them, both too out of it to think of moving back to their rooms. Only to be broken up by a mewling yawn, Mari slumping further down, sleep finally pulling at her.

It didn't quite hit Tim that something about the situation was slightly off till Marinette curled into him from where he slouched into the corner of the couch, head dropping onto his chest.

Ah, Fuck. Damian was going to kill him.

Nudging her slightly till she hummed to him, he tried to gently wake her back up fully.

"Mari, shouldn't you go back to your room now?"

It had the opposite effect.

Mari sprung up, eyes wide, blush flushing up her cheeks, seemingly not having realized she had been cuddling up to him till just then.

"I am so sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable! I keep forgetting you guys like warning beforehand. Either way I should have asked if you minded though. That was so invasive of me and the last thing I want is to invade your space when it's not warranted or wanted. I promise it won't happen again Tim, I'm so sorry."

Finally stopping to take a deep breath from her rambling, Tim jumped in, panicking to think he was causing her distress.

"No no, Marinette, it's fine! You're a very tactile person and frankly I don't mind it. I just know Damian wouldn't like finding you cuddling up to me, or anyone for that matter, especially in the middle of the night when he thought you were in your room, that's all."

That seemed to stop her in her tracks. Settling back down, she fixed him with a thrown look.

"I mean… I know Dami can be protective at times, but I don't think he'd be that upset by it. Maybe a touch put off, but I think he'd tease me more than anything?"

Now he was thrown for a loop. This went against everything he knew about his little brother… that could only mean bad things.

"... Really."

"Yeah, as I said, he knows I'm a cuddly person when I'm tired. Plus, your his brother. At least he knows and trusts you. He'd just make fun of me for being so clingy. Sorry again about that by the way."

Narrowing his eyes, Tim couldn't see a hint that she was lying, but still he had to push to be sure. The last thing he needed was Damian to feel like his position was being threatened. That's what sparked their rivalry the first time after all.

"Hmm... I took Damian to be the possessive type. Especially over someone he was seeing. Trust me, Mari, he's not going to like his girlfriend cuddling anyone. Especially not me."

"Holy Tikki, what?!"

"Tikki?"

" You think… you think Dami and I are dating?!?!"

"Be quiet, you're going to wake someone up!" He rushed out, trying to cover her mouth, only for her to evade, eyes blown wide with shock but still aware enough to dodge his grip.

"No, hold up. You seriously thought we were together?" She spoke in a startled tone, grabbing at his hands to make him stop reaching at her face and concentrate on her words.

Finally giving up on keeping her quiet, Tim actually started processing her words.

"You're… not?"

"No! Of course not! Did he say we were?"

"Well no but… I just assumed. He doesn't like anyone and yet acts like your his personal sunshine."

Giggling, she shook her head, settling back into the couch at his side.

"Yeah, that's only in front of others. Says no one needs to know what a chaotic being I am. His words not mine."

"Oh. So you guys really aren't..?"

"Nope," she chuckled, popping the p, slowly curling back into his side.

Stopping abruptly, she pulled back a bit and glanced up to him, blush dusting the top of her freckled cheeks.

"Is.. Is this okay?"

Now assured that he wouldn't be promptly attacked just for letting Marinette near him, he couldn't see why not. Plus, she obviously took comfort in it and needed sleep. Who knows if she'll find any alone in her room. Wrapping an arm around her and tugging her slowly down, he nodded.

"I already told you I don't mind. Plus, your warm."

Humming her thanks, she burrowed herself under his chin and promptly passed out, Tim following only moments after.

…..

Tim woke up late in the morning, having slid down the cushion and twisted up his limbs with Marinette's who was still half on top of him. By some stroke of luck, they hadn't been disturbed by anyone thus yet. (Dick had already passed through and took a picture to send to the group chat. Who knew the way to make Tim sleep was to pass out on top of him?) Feeling her shift, he looked down to see bleary blue eyes blinking back at him from under messy bangs. A small smile lit her lips and she moved up giving a light kiss to the underside of his jaw, before slowly getting up.

"Thanks Tim. Probably the best sleep I've had in a long time. We should nap sometime…. Maybe watch a movie first," she suggested, flushing but sending a coy, eager look his way.

Nodding, he could only think one thing.

'Welp. She's going to be the death of me."

#timari #timinette #dc x mlb #maribat

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