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crysdrawsthings · 1 year

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Concerning Elanor's antics in Skyrim

Hopefully a little post for me to finally write down some notable events in Elanor's unending struggle in making life in Skyrim somehow worse.

The year is 4E 201. The cart is rolling towards Helgen. Ralof, Lokir an Ulfric have to deal with snoring and absolutely shitfaced Thalmor Justiciar sleeping in the same cart. Say hi to Elanor, age ~110 and her questionable life choices.

- And... who are you? - Oh, I am here for the execution. To watch it, I mean. Although with a headache like this, maybe it would be easier to just chop the whole thing off, you know?

Let it be known, that Elanor should be held responsible for at least half of property damage and casualties in Helgen, because half-drunk is not the proper state to sling around destro spells.

She initially goes to Whiterun just to hitch a ride to Solitude, taking a few detours on the way, naturally, while Delphine runs her own investigation into dragon issues, frustrated that someone has already raided Bleak Falls Barrow. And someone with a frustratingly familiar "woe, ton of atronachs and a chain lightning be upon ye" approach to problems.

Mostly sober now and hungry for a rematch Elanor jumps on a chance to join Irileth's dragon hunt, subsequently devouring her first dragon soul.

A rare moral W for Elanor is stopping vandalizing Talos' statue to give a few coins to Lucia and hear her story. Naturally proceeds to casually offer to go stab her aunt and uncle so the kid can have her farm back, taking a moral L for further traumatizing the child. Evens out by borderline bullying Balgruuf into giving her Breezehome so Lucia and Brenuin can move in there. Leaves Whiterun without elaborating.

Figures it won't take too long to check this out and ventures to High Hrothgar, naturally summoning a dremora lord to princess carry her up the mountain.

Actually has a lot of fun learning funny shouty language and being obnoxious yellow gremlin. Greybeards and their young acolytes less so, but they manage. She particularly aggravates one of their most promising pupils, Eivor.

This leads to him attempting to get the Horn in the Ustengrav before Elanor can get there and coincidentially running into Delphine there and them teaming up for the time being. Elanor meanwhile doing a very important sidequesting and terrorizing local populace.

Subsequently, Elanor also forgets about the whole Horn thing after getting yelled at by Elenwen (via letter) and summoned back to the Embassy to talk about the whole dragon problem. Finds her in the middle of some daedric quest aka "Oh, you are Sheo's kid, right? Can you help me a bit out there?"

Upon making it to the Embassy shows up exactly in time for another one of Elenwen's parties. While partying takes another rare moral W by disposing of Erikur. Immediatelly proceeds to take a ton of faction-typical moral Ls for what she does to get information on Esbern out of Etienne. Also gets roped into figuring out the whole Potema thing.

After gifting Potema (bound to the skull) to Elisif, Elanor proceeds to head for the Riften where the hunt for the Blades starts. Very fun and enriching! She hasn't felt that alive since the Great War! Certainly being very normal! Surely not terrorizing and driving her quarry borderline mad with the lack of sleep and constant attacks.

Eventually makes it to the Sky Haven Temple, gets run through by Delphine's katanas, excitedly asks if dear worstie would want those back or if she can keep them for the collection. Yes, she has a collection.

Gets the Horn from Eivor, finally remembers that she is supposed to bring it back to yelling grandpas. Takes a metaphorical selfie in front of Alduin's Wall and leaves to do just that. As a result gets yet again insulted by people giving her the same title as tiber fucking septim, but on the bright side of things - she gets to meet Paarthurnax. Imprints on him like a sad lost duckling.

Dragon problems continue to escalate while Elanor is trying to dig up an Elder Scroll somewhere. Along the way takes part in the College questline, annoys Psijics and takes another rare moral W by being actually decent to college kids. Dangerously unhinged, but decent.

"Hey, kid, do you know how to summon atronachs that explode? No? Do you want to?"

After acquiring the Scroll Elanor actually remembers to go to Paarthurnax with it and finds out she can't actually perform Dragonrend as the concept of mortality is, funnily enough, alien to a functionally immortal being. Still proceeds to beat Alduin to a stalemate using her cool new shouts and good old reliable "enough magic firepower to level a city" approach.

Peace talks? Gloriously failed.

Joins the Civil War on the side of the Legion, but causes so much problems Ulfric should have probably taken her on the payroll. In any case, eventually Whiterun's position is secure enough so Balgruuf agrees to the whole "capture the dragon" plan.

Final showdown with Alduin happens, the crisis averted, the dragons chill down a bit, Elanor goes back to being a menace, gets drunk with Sanguine to celebrate, ends up in Cindhna Mine as a result, you know, the typical stuff. Civil War rages on...

Dawnguard: Elanor joins the side of Dawnguard, offers Serana to beat up both Harkon and Molag Bal if it would cheer her up, casually drops the fact of being an artificially created "godling" in the conversation, adores her new cool bow. Promises to figure out some loophole to get Durnie out of Soul Cairn permanently.

Actually gets her "parents" to join her and in fact beat Molag Bal up. Cathartic experience.

Dragonborn: oh no, worsties are fighting. Elanor is absolutely head over heel about the prospect of finally fighting someone strong again, and ends up draggin Miraak back to the Nirn after Mora tries to pull a sneaky.

"Hey, maybe I should start a cult too, you know? I am cool and basically a goddess in the flesh, I deserve one"

The Dragon Cult 2: Electric Boogaloo. Now comes in girlboss.

A few years later Elanor is mostly known as Thurrahdaal, the Winged Majesty, and Paarthurnax is doing his damned best to keep her at least somewhat sensible. Somewhat succeeds. Sometimes it requires whacking her on the head with a wing or a tail, while in private.

Eventually, a century or so later, our horrible meow meow embraces the whole Alduin thing and devours this particular timeline, abusing her privileges to keep her horrible bf (Ancano, also the head priest of her fun little cult) around.

Following this "lives" at Akatosh and Co place and scheming something very dastardly to do to one divinely neighbour.

Ze end.

#tes #the elder scrolls #skyrim #skyrim ldb #last dragonborn #thalmor #altmer #emissary elanor (shitty at her job)#i am dropping a lot of minor bits but like #this is long enough #crysandthings #tes oc

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wutheringmights · 1 year

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CTB Scrap - Exploring Kakariko Village

This is from chapter 9, where the Chain arrives in Kakariko to talk to Impa's grandmother and gather information on the upcoming war.

Originally, the boys were going to have tea with Jakucho before getting to relax at Warriors's home. I ended up switching the order of events so that I could write the scene with the unfinished portrait of Warriors with the engineer sooner. While that pacing change didn't affect the plot by much, it did mean getting rid of this moment between the boys.

Honestly, this is a throw-away scene that doesn't add much beyond amusing me. Well, you could argue that I wrote it for world building purposes. But honestly, I just thought it would be funny.

Note: this is an unedited scrap, so the writing may not be up to snuff. Also, everything include was deleted for a reason, so please do not take it as canon to CTB.

---

Eventually, the roads were paved and the buildings started to shift in style. They were wooden, built into the sides of a brown mountains with narrow staircases leading upwards. The streets grew even more bustling, but still they were nowhere near downtown Kakariko.

“Hot damn,” Legend said, awe finding his way into his voice as he stared at the road ahead. “I didn’t even know Kakariko Village could be this big.”

Warriors grinned, remembering the small villages he had explored in everyone else’s eras. Ironically, he used to think his Kakariko was modest in size. “If you think this is big, then you should see Castle Town,” he said. “Now that’s a city.”

Downtown Kakariko was nestled in a cove between mountains, and the roads from the village’s north, east, and south sides flooded into it like a lake. Here, the iconic windmills stood proud over the wood buildings built in the traditional Sheikah style: sloped roofs and sliding doors made with paper.

The Miyashita estate was located right off the town square, gated off for privacy. Ayane unlocked the front gate with a key, saying, “Um, the wagon’s not gonna fit through. I’ll get my mom.” With that, she skated off onto the property.

That was their cue to disembark, stretching their legs as their boots returned to solid ground. Warriors stretched his back with a grunt, observing the town square. There were a lot of soldiers loitering around in their silver and blue uniforms. Some were obviously off-duty, bumming around the benchers and at the street corners for a way to waste their day off. Others strode across the square with purposes, going in and out of the ornate building that made the town hall.

He turned away, grateful once more that he had chosen to not wear his scarf. He remembered seeing that Kakariko had become a waystation for soldiers—a mini-base for managing the western fronts. Regiments passed through here too quickly to be of note, so Warriors had no idea if anyone here would recognize him. If he had his choice, he would pass these next two days without anyone noticing.

Keeping his back to the street, he turned his attention to the wonder on his friends’ faces. Even their Castle Towns, the most populated towns in their times, were not a large or grand as this simple Kakariko Village. It was cute how much joy they seemed to get from the sight of the elderly lounging on benches and mothers watching their children play around the park’s trees.

“This place is gorgeous,” Four said to a chorus of agreements.

“Seriously, only Castle Town is ever this busy,” Twilight said with a slight frown.

“It makes sense,” Time said, patting Twilight’s shoulder. “His Hyrule is much farther in the future than our own.”

“A lot of the houses here look like the ones in my Kakariko,” Wild said.

“Hey guys.” Hyrule had already wandered off a bit, and he came trotted back with a thumb pointing back over his shoulder. “Look.”

There, on the other side of a pond, was an old well. Compared to the rest of the town square, it was derelict, with a faded, shingle roof protecting its stone base. It was gated off, with a plaque explaining the history of the well, not that they were close enough to read it or new Warriors’s language.

Their joy extinguished, and the boys paled. Their brows furrowed like they were facing an enemy, and Warriors almost thought it was sweet. “Kakariko well isn’t an actual well anymore,” he said. They all jumped, instinctually going for their weapons until they remembered where they were. “It’s an expression.”

“It is a well in my time,” Time said.

Warriors stared at him. “What?”

A woman screamed. “Monster!” she shouted.

#this scene adds little to nothing but i kinda love it anyway #me rambling #lu ctb #linked universe #ctb birthday #ctb content

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fakeosirian · 1 year

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long winded story time because this is funny and why not

i went to a small and weird (but still public, just specialized) high school that didn't have a football team, so lots of Typical United States High School Events got kind of...weird in the absence of The Sportsball. in hindsight they could have structured everything around different sports but eh. into the schedule blender it goes

one specific thing that ended up VERY DIFFERENT than the standard version of itself was the "pep band" -- our quarterly pep rallies were small enough to fit inside the (small) gym, so not only was there no space for a proper Marching Band, but not having a football team meant we didn't even have one in the first place. the band kids (as in taking an orchestra or jazz class) would play different sorts of events/assemblies throughout the year instead, but that was far too many people to fit in the gym while the bleachers and most of the floor were filled, and regardless, whatever it was couldn't get in the way of the vaguely-sports-related egg-and-spoon-race bullshit the student government put together to fill ~45 minutes

at some point, a few kids taking band (or kids who just played instruments and were enterprising enough, the lore was unclear) decided they'd nab a drum set from a practice room, find a bassist and a guitarist or two, and recruit a couple brass kids (optional) to stand in the corner of the gym and just...play covers. and they kept doing that informally for years and years (and they probably still are?)

i only hesitate because i used to be in charge of it (as in: through hijinks and shenanigans i inherited it from my ex in my senior year because no one else wanted to) and since it was already a ramshackle operation then, i could easily see it disappearing if the chain of "i know a guy" is broken for only one year

BUT ANYWAY: covers. the setlist was entirely dependent on who was in charge of the band that year, and it wasn't something the SGA/teacher sponsor bothered approving (or at least i never had to get it approved when i was in charge), so you could do pretty much whatever you want. the year before i was in charge, there was an infamous Incident during the student-faculty basketball game where the band played take on me intro riff (ONLY the intro riff) on repeat for the entire 7 minutes. worse, the lead guitarist played it entirely as a series of hammer-ons and pull-offs which, if you know anything about guitar, you can imagine that he had a hard time keeping things consistent once his fingers got tired (which for the record was around minute 3)

when i was in charge, we'd play:

fuck by red vox (specifically when people were filling into the gym)

wipeout (one time the drummer ended up playing the solo 5 times because whatever activity was going on went on FAR longer than we expected. he barely made it)

megalovania (during the student-faculty basketball game because we had to make sure that stayed cursed)

two wuv by tally hall (we didn't have a singer/the lyrics are what make this one so the effect of this one was lost but it was funny To Me privately)

love will tear us apart by joy division (as the "holy shit they're really just playing the same thing over and over" replacement for take on me)

seven nation army (this is one of two traditional songs that was always played. the first was become an alumn wrote it. this one was purely to torment the audience)

love illumination by franz ferdinand (the only song that didn't have some sort of ulterior motive behind it)

macintosh plus 420 (it was 2017)

there were others (some i just can't remember, some we only practiced and never actually went through with at the rally itself) but i think you get the picture

i'm realizing as i write this up that "pep rally designed to sap you of your sanity on purpose" is pretty unhinged and this probably explains a lot about me

#using my blog. like a blog. imagine that #running a risk with this post because anyone who went to my school will not only immediately know this is about That Place #but depending on the years they went there could even know EXACTLY who i am but tbh it'd be a devil's sacrament situation anyway. so #thats also assuming anyone will read and find this. which is deeply unlikely. KJHBSDKJFHBG #alex lore #text post tag is very fitting this time

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patiolung8 · 2 years

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About Caterer Job Description Examples

caterer Words surrounding event caterer How to utilize caterer in a paragraph Some of it can be traced to old-fashioned Southerly hospitality and the superb etiquettes he discovered from his mommy, a food caterer to Atlanta’s top-notch families. But his genuine worth acquires coming from what made him an American. For a guy who spent eight years in the Navy at Ft. Hood, Texas, food caterer and several others are interchangeable. How Vernon Jordan became a one-of-a-kind Washington presence|Roxanne Roberts|March 3, 2021|Washington Post The pandemic crashed the party for caterers, who are struggling also even more than dining establishments to rotate Merchants, such as venues, DJs, event caterers, and flower designers, have grew their techniques, also. Currently in Washington and in places like New York, it may take three months for restaurants to move in, depending on to sources. He noted how food supply requirement “changed therefore substantially,” coming from meals companies drivers, like restaurants and event caterers, to retail outlets, like grocery store establishments.” That is an essential change because, even at a time when there are actually a lot of folks who operate and who care regarding the social safety and security at threat, not all of them are as well-equipped as those who might be doing the massive lifting, he said, particularly in a economic downturn season. ADM’s Luciano speak COVID’s impact on international meals supply chain|reymashayekhi|October 27, 2020|Fortune For example, the business has observed lifts in viewership for heritage series like “Party Down” — a funny about caterers — that has not aired a brand-new period since 2010 — boost. The most up-to-date incident aired Wednesday, and it was produced by Luciano, who likewise has actually a sizable presence in the field. ‘Plan for loyalty’: How Starz is constructing its business around streaming|Tim Peterson|October 5, 2020|Digiday Lena Richard was a dark catering service and proprietor of the Gumbo House who published New Orleans Cookbook in 1940. Answers Shown Here 's a co-founder of Koop, an enjoyment and digital system that hosts live TV program shows, videos, podcasts, and social media. His manual, The Black Book, is right now on call in paperback. How about obliging a Muslim caterer to work a pig bbq dinner? What's to claim that he'd simply certainly never gotten it? And how does anyone perhaps have to know that he merely has no idea? I got tired of talking to, like several Americans, what creates this country fantastic. All my coworkers on grounds or through my occupation have informed me that a lack of leadership by some people leads to a culture of concern and irreverence. Or how regarding this, which was offered previously this month, on the caterer-declared "South Korean Embassy Day!". in Seoul? The response from President Barack Obama: "We'll be meeting once again quickly.". Of course, you mayn't be surprised that, in a year or two – or three years – Seoul are going to take a much more official setting on Oriental events. Thus, what has Korea discovered from this encounter? "It was fascinating," she mentions, illustrating reporters so famished for a story they zeroed in on a hapless caterer. "I would possess to take a taxi because I assumed there was actually nothing that would produce all the variation.". So was it adequate to receive the community in order. Two years back, Kornet's project started rolling out leaflets in 50 cities and counties. When she ran, she claimed, the project's top spread right into other conditions, starting along with Michigan. Mary Higgins Clark Interview About New Book, I'll Walk Alone|Sandra McElwaine|April 29, 2011|DAILY Monster We also pulled dietary and calorie relevant information coming from trip catering service LSG Sky Chefs to see if there were actually any kind of healthy and balanced possibilities. We finished up finding it to be a whole lot better than our authentic tip. We chosen that if they were really good we are going to be ready to purchase the added food items I can provide them. She is thirty-five right now, fairly simple, and helps make a living as a sort of travelling house cleaner and food caterer. It is one of the very most luxurious location on the planet. I find her along with my eyes practically peering over her shoulder. And when you look up at night, the moon has been the first point prior to you for half a century. Your lifestyle as a male is such an encounter - you don't even recognize the name. It is such a great point.

Our table was disperse in the property of a caterer who previously had given luxurious suppers for the Charlestonians. The dining area was a quite huge one produced of solid rock. Here Mr. Dreyer would be found for the dish, and was pretty ready with his usual manners and all rounded disposition. He would respond to concerns, and at the same opportunity would be prepared to help along with the job, or even to supply ideas for others. Cateress is womanly: the manly is catering company, where the ultimate -er of the broker is uselessly redoed. A verb, not a noun, must comply with the requirements of "delighting the demands of a definite adjective". As a substantive, the adjective should comply with the demands of "a guaranteed verb or substantive". The verb should likewise meet the requirements of "delighting some various other adjective". A noun may likewise be a verb which is not a definite verb. Mrs. Lawrence was speaking regarding the event caterer for the wedding; she desired it were one more kind of mixed greens. "That implies that the supper ought to maintain the attendees away coming from bad times," the men advised. "Would you not be happy to find a supper, and to stay away from performing them once again?". The supper after that created its means via the venue, and the girls were in the middle of helping make their very own program, while on the way Miss Wolland walked over right into the venue.

#sorpresas románticas en casa #cena near me #comidas romanticas faciles #preparar cena romántica en casa fácil

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thebloggerbloggerfun · 4 years

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@jellydeans: so are cas and jimmy novak just up in heaven existing at the same time @katebushstandean: #jimmy moves to heaven timbuku so that dean stops trying to make out with him every time they run into each other at the heaven grocery store

LINK

Thanks for letting me write this, guys!!

AO3 (2.1k)

The thing about Heaven was that it was whatever you wanted it to be, and most of its residents wanted it to be familiar.

Technically, Dean didn’t need to fill his car up on gas anymore, but there was still a gas station just down the street from where his new home was placed. He didn’t need to sleep, but he still had a large king-sized bed he made sure to make use of at least once a day. He didn’t need to eat, but there was a thriving supermarket that catered to whatever he was feeling like eating and always boasted the freshest ingredients for when he wanted to get a little fancy with his cooking.

Like today, for example.

Bobby had said he doubted Dean could make a proper souffle, so obviously Dean had to make the old man eat his words - and a souffle.

Dean stared at all of the different options of eggs, trying to decide if “free-range” vs. “organic” actually meant anything in Heaven, or if it was just meant to give him some sort of familiarity.

He grabbed the “free-range” option and moved on to the dairy.

There was movement out of the corner of his eye in the meat section across the way, and the way his heart stopped in his chest when he turned to look would have killed him if he wasn’t already dead.

It was Cas.

Cas, who Dean had spent every day thinking about since he’d left. Cas, who Dean had been trying to find ever since Bobby told him he was still around. Cas, who Dean still had unfinished business with.

He’d spend hours in bed, staring at the ceiling of his room and rehearsing just what he’d say when he saw him again, but in those scenarios Cas had shown up on his doorstep or in the passenger seat of his car where they could have a moment to just be .

He’d never been buying hamburger meat.

Dean rushed forward, cart forgotten, and skidded to a halt in front of Cas, just as he looked up in surprise.

“I love you -” Dean said in a rush, heart pounding, head reeling, “Of course I love you. You’re - fuck - you’re everything I could ever want and I’m - I’m so damn sorry if I made you feel like you couldn’t have me, too.”

Cas blinked at him, and it was in that moment Dean realized something was wrong.

His expression, his hair, the way he moved, the way he was dressed - all of it was wrong.

None of it was Cas, he’d just been too overwhelmed to see it.

“Oh, uh... hey Dean,” Not-Cas said, and finished putting his selected meat in his basket, “I didn’t didn’t know that you died. Um, if you’re looking for Castiel -“

Dean turned and ran out of the store.

What were the fucking chances that in all of Heaven, he and Cas’s old vessel were neighbors?

Dean gunned the gas pedal on his car as he drove endlessly, trying to walk himself through what exactly had happened the day before.

Jimmy Novak was here.

Jimmy Novak who - last Dean checked - hated him.

Dean had just spewed his feelings all over him without even thinking about the possibility that he wasn’t Cas. He’d been wearing a sweater vest for crying out loud - but he was willing to forgive himself for that one because he didn’t really know how Cas would dress if he had the choice.

His hopes had soared so high when he’d seen the familiar figure, only to be dashed the moment Jimmy had opened his mouth. They sounded absolutely nothing alike - and Dean yearned for the deep gravel of Castiel’s greeting.

Dean’s grip on the wheel tightened.

Where was Cas?

Didn’t he know that there was nothing keeping them apart now?

In what could only be an act of fate smiling down on him, Dean zoomed around a corner near the Heavenly library, and instantly had to stomp on the brakes of the Impala as a trenchcoat-clad figure stepped into the previously empty crosswalk.

Old habits die hard - Dean was still going to brake for Heavenly pedestrians, especially ones that looked like Cas.

Cas turned to look at him, eyes wide, and Dean shoved the driver’s side door open in a panic. The trench coat was unmistakable this time.

“Cas! Cas - don’t go okay? I gotta -“

Cas shook his head sharply and let out a breath.

“No - Jesus Christ - it’s still me, you idiot.”

Dean gaped at him as his brain tried to catch up with the conflicting bits of information it was processing.

“...what?” He heard himself saying.

Had he just wanted it to be Cas so bad that he’d ignored all the signs?

Jimmy gestured at himself like it was enough of an explanation.

“Uh. Yeah.”

“But - but you’re wearing his trenchcoat! ” Dean said, waved at it like maybe Jimmy hadn’t realized he was walking around as the mockery of the angel who’d once shared a living space with him.

Jimmy placed an affronted hand on his own chest.

“It was my trenchcoat!”

Frustration boiled inside of him and Dean quickly slid back into the car and slammed the door shut behind him.

He sped off, once again running from what could have been.

Dean was sulking under a pile of blankets in his bed when there was a knock at his door.

He ignored it.

After a few moments of silence, the knocking came again, louder and more insistent this time.

Grumbling to himself, Dean threw the blankets off and trudged down the stairs, flinging open the door with a scowl.

A person with nearly combed hair was standing on the doorstep holding a six-pack of beer in one hand and had a sticker on his shirt that said, ‘Hello, my name is Jimmy’.

“Very funny.” Dean said flatly.

“It’s not funny. It’s just in case you try to kiss me or something.” Jimmy held up the six-pack expectantly. “Can I come in?”

Dean didn’t appreciate the ribbing, but he didn’t mind the beer.

And after accosting him twice he might as well let the guy do what he wanted.

“Yeah, whatever.” Dean grumbled and left the door open as he walked back inside and flopped onto his couch. “Why are you here? Don’t you hate me?”

Jimmy hummed as he set the beer down on the coffee table and took a seat opposite Dean.

“I don’t not hate you.” He said with a shrug. “But last time we talked you were trying to convince me to chain myself to a comet again and I can’t say I appreciated it.”

Dean grunted in acknowledgment.

“I’ve been in heaven for a while now. It’s nice here. I take a yoga class with my wife.” Jimmy smiled at him. “I think I’m in a much better mental space now to consider liking you, especially if we’re going to be neighbors.”

Dean winced.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to like Jimmy, it was just… that was Cas’s face. It wasn’t , but it was. Was he really going to have to be constantly taunted with it?

“Look man - I’m sorry about - you know. That.” Dean waved a hand in the air generally. “But you don’t have to do all this. I’ll stop harassing you.”

“That would be nice,” Jimmy said, opening one of the cans and taking a swig, “So, considering the things you’ve said to me, I take it he finally told you he loved you?”

Dean paused, still raw every time he thought about it.

“You knew?”

Jimmy smirked.

“That angel’s love for you permeated both of our beings so potently I’m amazed I don’t love you.” Jimmy said, like it was the kind of fact you could drop casually. “Though even I will admit, as a happily married heterosexual man, that having a man as handsome as you proclaim your love to me in the middle of a grocery store was very exciting.”

Dean dropped his head into his hands and groaned loudly.

“Don’t beat yourself up over it,” Jimmy said, “That first one was pretty good. I’m sure he’s going to love it.”

“He’s never gonna hear it.” Dean muttered.

“Sure he will. You’ve already practiced it twice.”

“I can’t find him!” Dean said, and looked back up, “He’s here somewhere, and I can’t find him. It’s killing me.”

Jimmy held out a beer can.

“Good thing you’re already dead.”

Begrudgingly, Dean accepted the beer and opened it.

“I just. . . I just wanna see him again.” Dean took a long drink. “I want to talk to him. Tell him everything. Share everything. If he wants that.”

Dean let out a long breath, expecting Jimmy to interject with a quip.

He looked over at him when nothing happened, and Jimmy was smiling at him in a way that Dean could only describe as ‘fond’.

“What?” Dean said, indignantly.

“Nothing.” Jimmy said innocently. “You’re just not what I expected.”

Dean looked away.

“Anyway, you asked why I’m here,” Jimmy took another drink, “I’ve seen Castiel.”

“What?” Dean jumped to his feet, beer can dropped to the floor and forgotten about. “Why didn’t you lead with that?”

“I’m an enigma,” Jimmy shrugged a shoulder and leaned back against the plush chair, “Anyway, I wanted to let you know as someone who has literally been in Castiel’s head - I'm pretty sure I know the reason he’s not showing himself to you.”

“Well, fucking spill.”

Jimmy paused.

“Why do you love him?”

Of all the things Dean had been expecting Jimmy to say - this wasn’t it.

Dean sat back down.

“Why?” He asked, a little breathless. “Why does it matter?”

Jimmy shrugged again.

“I guess -” Dean said, trying to unspool his emotions from the knot they’d made in his heart, “He’s - he’s Cas. He cares . . . so much about everyone and - and he’s selfless and kind and he fucking saved me in more ways than just one. He’s always been there for me and Sam and he’s just… he’s just. He’s just good . I’ll never deserve him, but I want to try.”

Dean sucked in a deep breath.

“He pulls me away from the edge, man. I just love him.”

Jimmy nodded once, set down his beer can, and in a bizarre turn of events, began yelling at Dean’s ceiling.

“Did you hear that, Castiel? Not one goddamn thing about how you look! Nothing about me or my vessel!”

Dean stared, dumbfounded.

“Wh-”

“He doesn’t care what you look like! Can you please just come talk to him so I can stop playing marriage counselor for you two?”

Care how he - what?

What was happening?

Before Dean could fully compile all of the new information, there was a hesitant knock at the front door.

Dean whipped his head towards Jimmy, who was smiling in satisfaction.

Nearly tripping over himself, Dean rushed to the door faster than he’d rushed towards anything in his life, and swung it open.

In front of him was the wavelength of celestial intent that Dean had always known existed inside of the vessel of Jimmy Novak - the glint of angelic creation he’d caught glimpses of in the glow of his eyes and in his healing touch. The being was massive and stretched high into the sky with what was (maybe three? four??) pairs of wings scraping the clouds even further above everything. He was flaming rings and rotating divine faces that Dean could barely comprehend - he was raw power and all-knowing eyes.

On the front of his form was a sticker that read, ‘Hello, my name is Castiel’.

“. . . Hello Dean.” The voice rumbled through the air like thunder.

“Cas?” Dean said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I - yes. I’m sorry. I lost my vessel to the Empty - this was the only way -”

“I love you, too.”

The rotating faces on the form towering above him froze in place.

“I do! I love you, Cas. Okay? You didn’t let me say it back before - and if I’ve ever made you feel like I couldn’t love you back, I’m so fucking sorry. You deserve better.”

“. . . you love me?”

Dean nodded, his heart clenching at the disbelief he could hear in Cas’s voice.

“ Even as this?”

“You’ve always been this.” Dean swallowed. “I fell in love with the angel, not the vessel.”

“Dean. . .”

Dean smiled up at him in understanding.

“Just a shame that we’ll have to get a bigger house.”

“Oh I can -”

And as Dean looked on, Castiel began to shrink. The form didn’t change - he was still as striking as he’d been the first time with his wings and halos and faces still firmly in place - but he was now maybe one foot taller than Dean instead of one hundred.

“- make myself more manageable.”

Dean grinned and took a step forward, giddy and thrilled that this was finally, actually happening

He reached up, resting a hand on one of the divine faces.

“Bite-sized.” He murmured fondly.

Jimmy’s voice cut through the moment from somewhere behind them.

“Just so you two know - I. Am. Moving!”

#spn #destiel #destiel ficlet #spn coda #jimmy novak #akasdflks I barely know what this is guys I'm sorry #sometimes I write

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telaraneas · 3 years

Text

(i change my mind, copypasting this to its own post cause it really got away from me. long post warning)

i guess what im thinkin is like, that light is the domain of “things that MUST happen, for Reasons”; mind is the domain of “things must/will happen, for REASONS”; void is the domain of, like, “things happen or don’t happen for no discernible reason, necessarily”.

thats not really a great description of it i guess but, for instance, a good example is that one time Rosesprite happened…. For No Reason. and for no reason, really i mean no narrative reason- it ended up setting off a chain of events that resolved the subplots of many minor characters, so it’s not like it’s USELESS, but there was kind of no way to predict that whole thing from a “narratively this is something that we are leading up to” standpoint, which is why roxy’s actions brought it about on accident, and why rose was so thoroughly perplexed by it the whole way through. void is probably closer to the way things happen in real life, but it is sort of the anthitesis to the way things happen in stories, where everything is deliberate and happens for A Narrative Reason… but homestuck was always largely written on the fly at least in the smaller scale things, so this sort of thing just Happens lol

incidentally im pretty sure a mind player like terezi could have technically predicted that, if she had for any reason at all been previously informed of all the moving parts of that whole thing and TRYING to predict what the fuck jaspersprite was gonna do, because it IS perfectly logical in hindsight, but like… that’s the whole thing, why the fuck WOULD you be trying to look into that or predict it????? there was seemingly no narrative reason for any of that to be relevant! and that’s kind of what void is about i think!

on a similar note i thing breath is more along the lines of just…. Things Happen. similarly to void, it’s not about trying to discern WHAT will happen or WHY, but unlike void, the things that DO happen under the influence of breath ARE kind of things that the narrative called for. breath seems to be kind of the aspect dominating narrative contrivance

people often confuse contrivance with plot holes, but from what i understand they’re very different. a plot hole is when something happens, and it makes no sense for it to happen to the degree it breaks with previously established known facts, and it’s just never explained.

a plot contrivance doesn’t really contradict anything, necessarily, it’s just… like… there’s no reason for it to NOT happen the way it does, but there’s also no reason for it TO happen the way it does, and overall the reason it’s considered bad writing is because it tends to come across as lazy. oh, the heroes JUST SO HAPPENED to find the one magic sword that can defeat the bad guy, just laying on the side of the road. how convenient!

…incidentally, john’s entire story arc seems to be built entirely around moments like these skfnkenfke

i think it was smart writing to codify this as 1. the influence of an actual cosmic force that DOES operate on those principles, and 2. make john have to figure out how to get a handle on things by himself, even if the tools and circumstances just happened to be aligned in his favor by everything else in the story. john still has to be the one to turn HIMSELF into a deus ex machina, on-screen, to fix everything. it gives the story a good narrative and emotionally resonant reason to just contrive the hell out of everything john does and goes through, while STILL delivering on his arc as a hero’s journey

(i also think it’s really funny that the ring, which gets LITERALLY deus ex machina’d into the story via the author himself, is CONVENIENTLY found by tavros, and john CONVENIENTLY ends up with it in the story itself sjfnskdn true breath shenanigans, and incredibly fitting that vriska rejected it and played no part in it because there was no previously known indication that the ring would be important in any way until the two breath players started playing hot potato with it)

i’m still not sure if i have a good grasp on what exactly time does, because we have seen very different attitudes taken towards it by various different players AND the official description, and it’s hard to tell what, in each regard, comes from time as an aspect, from the classes of the characters, or from the characters themselves/both things; but for now i think my best guess is that time is kind of “things already happened, this is inmutable, let’s just cut to the chase”, more or less. like, the way this differs from light is that light still thinks of things more or less linearly, even when they UNDERSTAND this is not the case, whereas time tends to just not even concieve of things has “something that is happening”

like, example, vriska vs aradia; they both kind of enabled Big Bad Things that they already knew would happen via timeline shenanigans- but from what i recall, i don’t think aradia ever PERSONALLY set any of those events in motion, she simply didn’t correct any misunderstandings and thus allowed the wheels of time to turn smoothly; whereas vriska went “bec noir Will Happen = someone will make it happen anyways = i’m gonna make it happen myself, cause someone has to, and it might as well be me!!!” because of her compulsion to be the master of her own fate

aradia didnt so much see her actions as her *doing* anything, evil or good; she was pretty much just making sure things ended up where they were already going to end up/had already ended up, devoid of motivation or reason. similar to dave in the first five acts, just opening and closing loops Because He’s Gotta until he eventually runs out of steam and loops to close, because he really never had any motivations for doing what he was doing other than Well, I Already Did Them, So Obviously I Have To Do Them So I Can Have Already Done Them. no intent or motivation inherent to the actions themselves for half the story

a more childish example is caliborn getting fed up with the story and the Interpersonal Problems of the players and being like “fuck this, just skip to the good parts, they’re Going to happen so why do we have to sit through all of this shit!”. obv contrast to calliope, who seems to illustrate the kind of reader who would rather explore the status quo forever and imagine all the character interactions possible, playing in the *space* of the work in between the big status quo shifts and dreading said shifts, where caliborn wants to skip right past the status quo and have a story composed of nothing BUT the big shifts, the start and end of things

(neither of these are a sustainable way to tell a story, which is why you need at least a space and a time player)

#homestuck #classpect #homestuck meta #is that what people call it???#long post #sushi original

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katcoquette · 3 years

Text

My Champion *Part Two* (Sad Version)

Cedric Diggory x Reader

Word Count: 3.2k

TW: death, grief, sexual references, some language

A/N: This is the heart-wrenching version of Part Two so feel free to skip this part if you prefer a happier ending to this short series! That part will also come this week.

However, the scenes that are described in this part will only be referenced in the happy ending, and the happy ending will have scenes described in detail that are only mentioned here.

So, reading both parts will give you a fuller picture of the events leading up to the third task! From there, you’ll either have a death scene (here), or a happily ever after. Hopefully that makes sense(: You’ve been warned… I did cry writing this.

Part One

Happy Ending

After confessing your feelings to Cedric, the two of you spent almost everyday together. You had seen each other often, even as friends, but now that he knew you loved him, your time together was more meaningful. Something had changed in the dynamics of your relationship, though he hadn’t plainly admitted he felt the same way.

You weren’t officially together yet, and he hadn’t dropped love into any of your recent conversations, but he had been doing other things that lead you to the conclusion you definitely weren’t just friends.

He had kept his promise to you, making it through the first task unscathed and securing second place. That had eased your nerves significantly, but you would still worry about him occasionally.

You had attended the Yule Ball together on Christmas, but since then had been spending long nights hunched over books trying to figure out the golden egg’s clue.

One such night in January, you accidentally solve it.

You were sitting at a table in the library across from Cedric, mulling over every book you could think of that might have useful information. “This isn’t working.” You groan, slumping over the large book in front of you.

Cedric gives you a small smirk, “I think we just need a break.” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.

You perk your head up at this. “What did you have in mind?” You muse, slightly biting your bottom lip. Instead of saying anything, Cedric pushes his chair back, stands up, and holds his hand out to you.

You feel excitement bubbling up in your stomach as you take his hand.

The next moment, you’re running through the halls of Hogwarts, weaving around your classmates, and giggling in happiness.

Cedric stops at the entrance of your destination and winks as you discover where he led you. The prefects’ bathroom on the fifth floor. He holds the door open for you, “After you, Y/N.”

You’ve barely walked in when he starts shedding his clothes. “Need a hand?” He stands in front of you, almost completely naked. “You cheeky bastard.” You laugh, but accept his help, nonetheless. He loosens your tie, pulling it over your head before moving to unbutton your shirt. Eventually, both of you are only in your underwear.

“Come on.” He takes your hand and leads you to the large bath, placing your belongings, including the egg, on the edge of the bath. You both relax into the water, letting the warmth envelop you. “This is exactly what we needed, you’re right.” You sigh contentedly.

“I usually am.” He teases. “But you’re too far.” Cedric smoothly pulls you through the water onto his lap. “That’s better…” He trails off, brushing stray hairs from your face. You were looking into each other’s eyes, close enough that you could feel his warm breath. Your arms are loosely around his neck and you readjust so your legs are straddling him. He had one hand casually resting on the edge of the bath, next to the golden egg, the other still fiddling with your hair.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/N.” He said softly, running his hand through the ends of your hair and moving it to the back of your neck to gently pull you closer to his lips.

He brushed his mouth along your neck, leaving soft kisses as he made his way to your lips. “You know I care about you, right?” You breathlessly nod, your eyes fluttering closed. You feel his lips meet yours, and his body shift under you so he can move his arm from holding himself up to exploring your skin.

You break away for a moment to flip your position, so that your back was pressed against the cool stone, and Cedric was leaning over you. You pull him back down, deepening the kiss and running your hands over his chest. He places his hands on the stone edge on either side of your body, still focused on you, not realized he had knocked the egg onto the floor until it started screeching. He jumps back, placing his hands over his ears while you cringe, climbing out of the tub to close the damned thing.

“It’s not closing!” You shouted over the loud screams. “Throw it here!” Cedric removed a hand to gesture to you. You toss the egg over to him, moving your hands to your ears after releasing it. You hear it splash into the water, and the screeching stops, turning now to a melodic song. Your eyes widen as you look to Cedric, who shrugs. “I guess that solves that.” He chuckles, then submerges into the water to better understand the lyrics.

Although you were abruptly interrupted in the prefects’ bathroom, there were many other moments where you weren’t. However, it seemed to happen more often than either of you would have liked.

Like the night before the second task, where you had been in pure bliss before being interrupted, yet again, by one of your friends telling you that Professor McGonagall was looking for you.

You didn’t remember the rest of that night, regaining consciousness as you broke through the water of the Black Lake in Cedric’s arms. He had been so worried when he realized you were the thing that had been stolen from him, because he knew how much the whole tournament had been setting you on edge anyway.

You assured him you were fine, mostly because you had no idea really what had happened. But he insisted on looking after you the rest of the day. That ended up being the day he finally told you he loved you.

Now you were walking out of the castle with Cedric and your friends on your way to Hogsmeade. It was a chilly weekend in March, but you were excited for the distraction from preparing Cedric for the next task. Your group was laughing and shoving each other playfully on your walk there. You sighed happily, finally feeling some normalcy. You smiled at Cedric, who was walking a few paces in front of you. He caught you looking and gave you a quick wink before turning back to shove one of the other boys in your group.

Once you all arrived and settled at a table in The Three Broomsticks, Cedric got up and pulled you away from the group, “We’ll get drinks!” He called over his shoulder. Instead of walking toward the counter, he took a sharp turn once you were out of sight and lead you out the back door. “What are you up to, Ced?” You narrowed your eyes, laughing.

“We have something else to do, Y/N.” He copied your tone. “Come on! It’ll be quick, they won’t even realize we’ve left.” You huff, giving into his request. It didn’t take much convincing for you to listen to him. You couldn’t help it; he was irresistible with that contagious smile and cheeky attitude.

You followed him away from The Three Broomsticks and up a small path that led into the forest. “I’ve been trying to figure out a good time to do this…” He started, sounding nervous. You squeezed his hand to encourage him to continue. He stopped to the side of the path, and turned to face you, putting his arms around your waist. “As you know… I am in love with you.” You smiled at him, slightly blushing. “And I know that you love me-“

“Who said I loved you?” You tease him, trying to get him to relax. He rolls his eyes, but breaks into a smile, nonetheless. “You love me.” He confirms, “So, I got you this.” He reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out a beautiful velvet box, holding it in front of you. He keeps his arms around you as you open it, revealing a beautiful locket. The design was simple, but shimmered in the light, and had two of your favorite gems on each side of the chain. You gasped, looking up at him.

“Will you be mine? I mean officially.” You throw your arms around him, giving him a long kiss. “Of course, Ced.” You smile widely, happy tears in your eyes. “Don’t start crying on me, Y/N!” he jokes. You blush, lightly hitting his chest. “Help me put this on.”

He takes the locket from you, and you turn around, so your back is to him. He gently puts the locket around your neck, and your fingers brush over it admiringly. Once it’s secured, he wraps his arms around you again and puts his head on your shoulder. “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too.”

——————

It was a week before the final task, and the months that had passed had been a peak time in your life. You and Cedric were inseparable since making things official, and he was a dream. He would walk you to class, carrying your books with one arm and holding your hand in the other. You would study together in the library and spend nights in his room wrapped in each other’s arms. At this point, you both were ready for it to all be over so you could move on with your lives.

One night, while you were cuddling in his bed and making plans for the next year, Cedric made a joke that you had both laughed at.

“I had to ask you before the third task, you know, just in case.” He winked as he teased you about the dangerous tasks. You rolled your eyes, but still let out a laugh. “That’s not funny, Cedric.”

“Oohooh, my full name. Now I really am in trouble.” He laughed. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. It’ll be over soon, and then we can really start having fun.”

If only the two of you had known the events that would unfold in the coming days.

Unknowingly to you, when you hugged your boyfriend tightly behind the stands, days later, and watched him walk toward the maze, when you were pressing a kiss to your fingers and waving to him, that those were the last moments you would spend happy with him.

——————

You were bouncing your legs in the stands, anxiously awaiting Cedric’s return. Fleur and Victor had already come back, looking like they had been through hell in the short time spent in the maze. You couldn’t begin to think about what Cedric was going through.

Your friends were sitting around you, and Amos Diggory, Cedric’s father, was seated in front of your group with Mr. Weasley.

“I’m sure he’ll be back soon Y/N. It’s a good sign that he’s still in there. It’s between him and Harry now. He’s so close to winning.” One of your friends grabs your hand reassuringly, giving you a smile. You nod, taking a deep breath and squeezing her hand back, your eyes briefly leaving the entrance to the maze that you had stayed focused on.

You hear the crowd around you start to cheer and see Mr. Diggory stand up and clap from the corner of your eye. You turn and instantly center on the boys who had just returned together, the band drumming up a song to celebrate. Your classmates start to leave the stands, ready to gather around the champions. You rush from your spot, lightly pushing through the crowds to try to get to Cedric as quickly as you can. Mr. Weasley hugs Cedric’s father, “He did it!” you hear them cheer from behind you.

But you stand frozen near the bottom of the stands, grabbing the locket you always had on since the day Cedric gave it to you. He wasn’t moving. Cedric was lying on the ground, and he wasn’t moving. Someone lets out a heart wrenching scream.

It was you screaming. The loud noise had come from your mouth, a reaction to the scene in front of you without even realizing you’d done it. A reaction to your boyfriend’s lifeless body mere feet in front of you.

You collapse to your knees, inhaling sharply at the sudden sob in your chest. It was as if time had slowed in this moment. This life-changing moment. You had pushed away any possibility of this outcome in the past months. It was too painful to even consider, yet here it was, your reality.

Slowly, the professors around you start to comprehend what was going on. Hagrid stops clapping. You can barely see Dumbledore rushing to the ground through your tears, pulling Harry off Cedric. You hear him protest, not wanting to let go of his friend. The band dies out, more and more of the crowd realizing something was wrong.

You tune out the conversation, your head spinning. You hadn’t made another sound since your scream, silently weeping and gasping for air.

“Cedric! He asked me to bring his body back. I couldn’t leave him. Not there.” Harry cries.

“Let me through. Let me through!” You hear Amos Diggory as he rushes down the stairs, not yet knowing the full horror of the situation. You look to him, and briefly meet his eyes. The broken look on your face and fresh tears cause him to turn back to his son. The crowd parts as he moves closer.

“That’s my son! That’s my boy!” He cries out, falling to his knees like you had moments before. You feel two of your friends drop down next to you, pulling you into their arms, tears flowing freely from their faces as well. You had all lost someone that was vital to your lives.

“My boy!” Mr. Diggory frantically searches Cedric’s face for any sign of life but finds none. At this confirmation, you find your voice again. You were completely hysterical, grasping at your friends as they tried to comfort you. Loud sobs wracked your body as you fell even further to the ground, holding your head in your hands.

You stayed in that spot even after his body had been moved. You had watched his father grasping his hand as your professors helped to carry him away. You had closed your eyes and dropped your head, fresh tears streaming down your face as he disappeared.

Even when your eyes dried, and your body felt numb, you stayed in that spot. Your hand stayed around the locket he had given you, fiddling with it as you sat. You stayed silent when, hours later, your friends came back to guide you back to your dorm. During those hours, your brain gathered every memory you had of Cedric Diggory, from the first time you met, to the moment you realized you were falling in love. When he was chosen as a Champion, when you confessed your feelings, when he asked you to be his girlfriend.

You remembered his laugh, how happy he had always been around you, how he made everyone around him happy as well. You already missed the warmth he brought to your life.

“Y/N… let’s go back.” Your friends got no response from you. So, they pulled you to your feet, fully supporting you when you barely made it two steps and brought you back to the castle.

——————

“Today we acknowledge a really terrible loss.” Dumbledore started. You sat in the Great Hall, gathered with the rest of Hogwarts and the other schools to mourn your boyfriend’s death. You were seated with Harry on one side of you, and you and Cedric’s friends on the other. You had unintentionally grown closer to Harry in the time since Ced’s death. In a way, Harry was a connection to your lost love; he had seen it all happen, he had witnessed his final moments, and he was just as traumatized as you.

“Cedric Diggory was, as you all know, exceptionally hard-working, infinitely fair-mind, and most importantly-“ Dumbledore paused, looking toward you, “a fierce, fierce friend.” At this, you felt your throat start to close, and solemn tears that had previously stayed in the corners of your eyes began rolling down your cheeks. Harry noticed this, and placed his hand over yours, giving it a gentle squeeze to let you know he was there.

“Now, I think, therefore, you have the right to know exactly how he died. You see… Cedric Diggory was murdered… by Lord Voldemort!” You squeeze your eyes shut at this, letting your head fall. You had heard rumors of how he had died, but no one had told you exactly what had happened. Partly because you hadn’t asked, you didn’t really want to hear it. But now that it had been confirmed, you felt your heart break all over again.

“The Ministry of Magic does not wish me to tell you this. But not to do so, I think, would be an insult to his memory.” You silently agreed. As horrible as it was, it needed to be revealed. It would become your driving force in the years to come, as the threat of Voldemort grew.

You managed to get through the rest of the memorial but felt completely drained emotionally by the end.

“Y/N, can I have a quick word?” Harry motioned out to the corridor after you nodded. The two of you found yourselves in a quiet alcove, out of sight from any students that might have wandered out of the Great Hall.

You sit down in the large windowsill with Harry across from you.

“I just needed to make sure you knew that Cedric loved you to the very end.” You blinked in confusion at what he meant. You had talked about that night with Harry before, but this seemed like he had new information to share.

“I fought Voldemort that night, and I saw my parents there… and Cedric. In spirit I mean.”

You bit your lip, to hold back your grief. He continued, “Y/N, he asked me to bring him back to you.” Harry thought back to Cedric’s last request.

Harry, take my body back will you? Take my body back to Y/N, and to my father. Make sure she knows I’ll always be with her.

Harry relayed exactly how it had happened, and exactly what Cedric had said. Again, tears left your eyes. Harry scooted over next to you and pulled you into a warm hug. “I’m sorry Y/N. I’m so sorry.” He held you in his arms and let you softly sob into his chest.

Although it wasn’t your own memory, you would cherish what Harry had told you for the rest of your life. When the time came, you would be a fierce ally to Harry in his fight against Voldemort. But you would never forget your biggest reason to fight…

Cedric Diggory.

And when the battle became especially difficult, you could almost swear you felt him next to you, giving you the strength to overcome even the greatest darkness.

A/N: Not me sobbing right now… I may be a Draco stan but Cedric has a special place in my heart forever, I love him so much. The ~much happier~ ending will be out soon.

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lovelyirony · 4 years

Note

Title: I wish i could forget you

Tony Stark was not supposed to be in the car when Howard and Maria Stark attended a Christmas holiday party for another company. In fact, Hydra had wanted him to stay home.

Unfortunately, Tony had ticked off Howard a bit too much, and so here he was in a tuxedo that was a bit too big, uncomfortably shiny shoes, and a temper that was close to blowing.

Thank god they were almost home.

When a car crashes, one almost can’t believe it. Tony can see the outside blurring, and he can hear glass crunching, and he hears things that he really doesn’t want to hear. He is fairly sure that Maria screamed.

A metal arm.

Huh.

Well, not the most typical. He also doesn’t think that the man knows he’s here.

Howard and Maria Stark are killed. Tony feels like shit because he couldn’t do anything. His forehead is bleeding and he didn’t want to move out of fear for himself, which seems selfish, but also maybe a survival instinct?

God, his bow-tie is still constricting air flow.

Once the man turns, Tony realizes that he wasn’t the target. They probably had no idea he was in the car, whoever “they” were.

He gets out of the car. The car door creaks, and the man whips around.

His eyes widen.

“You--what?”

The voice is surprisingly American.

Surprisingly? He’s not sure why it’s surprising, it’s not like an American can’t kill just look at history, but still, Kind of surprising.

"What, wasn’t supposed to be here?” Tony rasps out. He realizes now that he’s basically sent himself a death sentence as the man surges forward.

“What are you doing here?”

His eyes are piercing. Also very, very familiar with some photographs that Peggy has on her mantle and her desk.

James “Bucky” Barnes. Son of a bitch.

“What are you doing alive?” Tony asks. “I thought you were lost in a ravine in Europe somewhere.”

“What--huh?”

“Ravine. In Europe. You know who you are, right? Is this some kind of sick...what did they do to you?”

“I do not know what you are talking about.”

His eyes get cold again.

“Who are you?”

“I am the Asset.”

It is now that Tony realizes that every single shitty sci-fi book is probably right, and his disdain of “wacky science” and “magic” have all been for nothing, because here is Bucky Barnes, who apparently has no idea who he is.

Then Tony gets knocked on his ass. His body slams against the icy road, and Barnes is rushing towards a motorcycle.

And he’s alone. He can’t breathe, all the wind knocked out of his chest. He thinks he broke a couple of ribs.

No one believes him. At all. SHIELD brushes it aside.

“There’s no way Barnes could be alive. You were probably just seeing things,” they tell him. “Would you like us to find you a therapist?”

“No,” Tony says, and they ask why. He laughs, sipping on his water. “SHIELD has so much loyalty to itself, I’m afraid I’d be compromised.”

“Therapists aren’t supposed to divulge any information,” Nick Fury adds carefully. “And we’re a secret-keeping bunch. Nothing goes out that comes in.”

“Unless, of course, it’s necessary,” Tony drawls, staring at Fury. God, the leather outfit...that’s weird. “Then I’m out in the open, Nicky. And what fun is that unless I get to show off an outfit in full-coverage?”

“...I’ll have an agent escort you home. We’ll have guards overnight.”

“Don’t bother.”

“And why is that? Think you can handle it by yourself?”

“Fury, my family has made a career out of thinking a lot of things. You’re not being as detrimental as you think.”

He finger-waves, grinning and winking at agents on the way out.

Now comes paranoia. This is welcome, actually, because it’s allowing him to work up new security measures and hack into various security cameras around the world to see if he can find Barnes.

It’s like he’s a ghost. And fuck, maybe Fury was right. Tony doesn’t like that, but that may be it.

Merry fucking Christmas.

Years go by, and Tony keeps a tiny ear to any news about mysterious deaths that can’t be explained. A man that glows in lamp-light, has no identity. He’s not sure if it could be Barnes. God knows he’s no longer seventeen, and Barnes--it if it was Barnes--would be way older. He should’ve been an old man in 1991, but he wasn’t.

It kind of reminds him of the conspiracy theory that Walt Disney was kept cryogenically frozen, which is just ridiculous, because as far as he’s concerned, you’d need a bit more to you than just regular skin and bones.

And this is where it hits him.

Barnes was experimented on when he was captured by Hydra. Peggy told him that Rogers told her that he was repeating his dog tag number over and over, as if someone was trying to take him over.

Yeah, you’d need a bit more.

Like a fucking super soldier serum.

This then delves into Tony realizing that if Barnes is flash-frozen, then...well, could Rogers have survived? He always thought his dad was crazy, but a broken clock is right twice a week or however the hell that saying goes. He never used it, he wasn’t a broken clock.

(He was broken, but he’s not going to compare himself to a clock. Perhaps Model-T.)

They find Rogers. Tony realizes Howard did his math completely wrong for years, and probably never let anyone look at it because he was a World Super Genius. And a Colossal Dick.

Steve Rogers is one tough cookie to crack. Tony chips off some of the ice and puts it in a glass of scotch.

“Do you really think that’s the most appropriate thing to do?” Phil Coulson asks.

He’s shocked, but mainly because Tony has seen his Cap collection, and that man has so many limited edition cards and lunchboxes that it’s a bit crazy. But at least he knows how to decorate with it and not have it look like an absolute nutjob swept into his house and did it all in red-white-and-blue.

“Phil, my darling, when have I ever done anything the appropriate way?” Tony asks. He stares at the face that’s emerging out of the ice. “Besides, what else are you going to do with this ice, hm? Besides melt it all off?”

Steve is a miracle. Every scientist on earth wants to poke and prod at him.

Tony breaks him out of SHIELD in a week, because he swears to shit if one more scientist asks to take blood samples “to see how going under Arctic temperatures affects the bloodstream” (and also take DNA for cloning) he’s going to lose it.

Fury yells at him for two hours.

Steve flips Fury off from the couch, where he’s been channel-surfing for the better part of three hours.

“You’ve already corrupted him,” Fury scowls. “Rogers, we need to talk--”

“He’s retired,” Tony says.

(Steve is not, technically. Hasn’t said anything. But Tony is putting him on mandatory retirement for at least a year.)

“What’s...what the ever-loving fuck is that?” Steve asks.

An infomercial. For an automated chair. Mostly used for old people.

Tony grins.

“You wanna see how fast I can launch you out of one?”

“I’m going to say yes. Professionally.”

Ten miles an hour, and Steve goes flying across the room into a pile of pillows.

It’s not the end-all solution. God knows Steve calls him “Howard” and asks where a lot of nasty food is, and sometimes can’t tell the difference between what his brain is seeing and what is actually there.

But Tony gets him help. And Steve goes to art school.

It’s all very funny, actually. Steve rants about “modern art” and how “if he could kill any concept it would be abstract expressionism, what the fuck.”

Tony buys and then donates a Rothko in his honor.

Steve fumes, but finds it hilarious.

Then, there’s the attack on New York.

Norse god of mischief decides to end New York, blah blah blah.

Captain America reappears, everyone loses their shit, and Tony almost dies.

Then he gets four other roomies besides Steve, and he has to make a chore chart. Ugh.

Barnes reappears in France. Tony gets a fairly good image, and Natasha stills.

“You know about Winter Soldier?”

“Barnes? Yeah.”

“You know who he is?”

“James Barnes. At least, I think. He tried to kill me, wasn’t very successful at it.”

Steve overhears.

This leads to a chain of events that ends in Steve not coming to family dinner because he’d rather sit in his room and listen to Green Day or Glenn Miller or whatever the hell gets him even more upset.

“Listen, Steve, I’m sorry. But up until this picture? I was only about sixty percent sure I wasn’t full of beans.”

“Why is that the phrase you use?”

“What, full of beans? Bruce says I have to work on my cursing. Apparently, children are impressionable. Who knew?”

It’s not a total success. Steve still doesn’t like that Tony didn’t outright tell him, but Tony isn’t going to tell Steve that he has the mental stability of a single cashew.

So begins the hunt for Barnes. Which actually isn’t too bad.

He’s in DC. Not for any political clean-up, unfortunately. He’s trying to kill Fury. Tony doesn’t know why, at least until he looks up Pierce, who’s technically, mostly retired from SHIELD.

And yet still uses most resources that technically? He needs more than one authorization from multiple people.

God, people are getting bad at covering their tracks. Used to be harder to catch and see if someone was doing dirty deals.

(Okay, not like he can talk because Obie was...well, no use in discussing that now. He needs to focus.)

Nat and Steve are bad at lying. This kind of surprises him, because Steve is usually a successful liar. He’s convinced Clint that it’s not him who keeps eating his peanut-butter-fudge ice cream, but Thor.

And Natasha used to be Natalie Rushman. Then again, Tony was poisoned during that one, so that might just be on him.

Helicarriers go in the water.

Tony’s working on making sure most of the information doesn’t reach the general public, although he can’t stop it all.

Barnes falls off the face of the earth, and Steve wants to go on another treasure hunt.

“Let him come to us, or figure himself out.”

“This isn’t a college kid going backpacking in Europe for a year,” Nat snaps. “He’s...you know who he is, who he was, and what he can do.”

“Counterpoint: we don’t know if he secretly really wanted to see traditional decoration of Ukrainian Easter eggs,” Tony says. “God knows that I want to learn more about that.”

“Is everything a joke to you?”

"Only on federally mandated holidays,” Tony says with a shrug. “But let him be. Steve, it’s one thing that he didn’t kill you. It’s another thing that he hauled you up from the Potomac. I’m not sure I would’ve done that because who goes up alone to a helicarrier?”

“Historically nobody,” Natasha says. “Most people don’t have any helicarriers.”

“God, this situation sucks,” Tony says. “What if. We potentially. Ignore all of it and have spinach and artichoke dip? Hm?”

“With toasted bread?”

“I’m not an animal, Steve.”

“Your penchant for four a.m. coffee while you don’t realize you’re singing songs from the seventies says otherwise,” he responds.

“Well well well, if it isn’t the punishment of you getting the aux taken away for a week,” Tony taunts.

“Oh, come on!” Steve whines.

“Nope, just you having to listen to more of Bruce’s questionable tastes.”

“Fuck.”

Barnes comes stateside. The only reason Tony knows this is because Jarvis says that he may have spotted Barnes, but he’s not sure.

“J, you’re the most advanced system in the world, not to mention my son, and you like to hack into the Pentagon for funsies.”

“All of that could not have prepared me for this.”

Barnes is wearing a neon green tank top that is advertising Coco Beach in Florida.

“Can I laugh? Or is that sad?”

“Multitask, Sir.”

“Oh, true.”

Barnes is not in New York. Tony has to near-about put an electric fence around the whole state so that Steve doesn’t go on a road trip.

Hell, Tony doesn’t even trust him to go to coffee alone, but that’s a bit much.

“We have to wait,” Tony says.

Sam Wilson is a godsend. Also the funniest man Tony knows.

He is also emotionally healthy and very perceptive, so he has been noticing that Tony is nervous.

Because how do you face the man who killed your parents? Technically?

“Are you talking to your therapist?” Sam asks. “Just thinking you should.”

“Sam, we’re working on my issues from 2007. Believe it or not, it will be taking a full year.”

“I don’t like that I can never tell if you’re serious.”

“I know you remember the tabloids from 2007, I wrote a mesh vest. Clearly, I need so much help.”

Sam snorts.

“Maybe. Hey, I’ll catch you later. Clint and I are gonna go try and find some questionable shirts to crop.”

“Did his little protege convince you? Bishop, right?”

“Kate, yeah. She’s convinced our public image will go viral or something. Good luck with helping Steve and Nat with your super-soldier hunt.”

“Thanks. Let me know if you find a shirt with my face on it. I want it.”

Sam snorts.

“Will do.”

Bucky Barnes comes to New York in early May. The springtime is slowly but surely fading off, sun approaching more and more. Tony is enjoying coffee on a veranda, and then suddenly his waiter is nowhere to be found and he’s not entirely sure if his visitor takes credit or debit.

“Can I help you?”

“Maybe. Depends on if you’re gonna kill me or not.”

“I think Steve would be a bit broken up about it.”

“Do you care what he thinks?”

“On this situation? Yes. When it comes to culinary choices? No.”

There’s a ghost of a smile on his face. Tony’s trying extremely hard not to remember shattered glass and a motorcycle on ice.

“Can we, uh, table this conversation? For later. Espresso and all that, plus the added bonus of our shared history, so...”

“Shared history?”

“You don’t remember?” Tony asks. Bucky shakes his head. “Ah. Then this is truly a comedy of errors. Maybe. Um. Listen, I, uh...I gotta go. You need to talk to Nat or Steve or hell, maybe even Thor. Is Thor a good option?”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Barnes, I can’t exactly face you right now.”

And then he jumps off a balcony.

A fucking balcony.

Jesus H. Christ, his therapist is gonna be so excited for their next session.

The suit wraps itself around him, and he can finally breathe, and he’s thinking about calling Pepper and see if she would like to schedule him a vacation for maybe anywhere but New York and Iowa.

“Why not Iowa?” Pepper asks. “They have good antique stores. I’ve gotten quite a few good finds for clothes.”

“I can do shopping retail literally anywhere else, absolutely not.”

“Spoilsport. Steve know you’re leaving?”

“I didn’t even really tell Steve what happened with my parents.”

“Oh, your therapist called. She sounded concerned, but also intrigued.”

“It’s because Sally almost became an employee of NASA and still has a soft spot for aerodynamics.”

“What exactly did you do when faced with Barnes?”

“Check the front tabloid page tomorrow, just tell everyone I’m out of town.”

“Got it. And Tony?”

Her voice is soft.

“Yes, dear?”

He can feel her rolling her eyes. Affectionately, of course, but rolling all the same.

“Be safe, and come back. You know Rhodey and I miss you.”

“I miss you too.”

A week is spent in Malibu. He really is thinking about selling this place. But for now, it suffices.

Steve texts him.

bucky’s back. holy shit

be back in a week. radio silence.

got it. no more messages from me. thor tells me to tell you that he broke the sink

:((((

And that’s it. He’s sitting in the house for a week, has already called Sally once and explained how his suit works, and then listened to her talk about how “his reliance on the suit to help him escape unfavorable situations is not exactly the healthiest but also none of my clients have had to face someone who is of weird standing.”

It’s no secret that Tony doesn’t like Howard Stark. Who would’ve liked that sorry excuse for a father, a man who was so cold-hearted the Arctic looked like a tropical paradise?

Maria was...Maria was different.

She wasn’t a good mother. No, she was never a good mother. But she tried, and she didn’t deserve her fate.

And then there was the question of Bucky Barnes. Who wasn’t Bucky when he was there, but still so damn recognizable.

It’s kind of like when there’s a movie about a famous person, and another person plays them. Like Tom Hanks, essentially. Bucky played whoever the fuck they get Tom Hanks to play and it’s similar: you see the resemblance, but it’s not it.

So yeah.

There’s also the little tidbit that things get complicated when you involve personal feelings and rationality, and really? Tony misses New York. A lot. And he’s not going to let someone else overtake his life just because he’s uncomfortable.

So he flies back to New York.

He’s in a bad way, Barnes is.

“He remembered you,” Steve says. “What he did.”

“Ah, there’s that.”

“He doesn’t have to be here,” Natasha says. “I have a couple of SHIELD safe houses to choose from.”

“None would be adequate to house something like me,” comes the response.

Barnes looks remarkably shitty, as if he hasn’t slept in eighty years. And maybe he hasn’t.

“Jail would be more fitting.”

Tony rolls his eyes.

“You are literally the most dramatic person ever, and Bruce threatened to take over the government because Thor ate the last croissant. Put those on the grocery list, Steve

“We’re not gonna throw you in jail,” he continues on. “Not because you happened to be used as a goddamned Swiss army knife. I have issues, sure, but I’m not going to be going all Hannibal Lecter or whatever.”

“Who the hell is that?”

“Cannibal. I realized that that’s a terrible comparison, please forgive me.”

“Why a cannibal?”

“Couldn’t think of anything else but Anthony Hopkins, the actor. My mistake. Point is, we’re gonna have to go through some channels, and I’m introducing you to BARF, as well as a new person who’s gonna rock your world.”

“I’m pretty much well-acquainted with vomit.”

“No, not that,” Tony says. “Although we can cover that through my 2005 edition of partying if we really wanna dig up some old magazine interviews. No, I’m introducing you to something that’s going to change your life.”

After that, Tony doesn’t have much to do with Bucky’s life.

He serves as a permanent guilt trip, nothing says “well, shit” much like being a permanent guilt trip.

Sally tells him that they should talk it out. Do all that “and how do you feel?” questioning that makes his skin crawl and his eyes ascend to the ceiling.

I mean yeah, they share a living space. Tony has seen Bucky laugh and smile with Sam, talk with Bruce about a really interesting article about regeneration of plant cells or whatever, and Bucky enjoys videochatting with Wakandan royalty.

(It also helps that Shuri is blunt as ever, but so blisteringly smart. He’s reading her paper on regeneration of nanotechnology, and it just...it’s the Pieta of research, that paper.)

But he never speaks to Bucky. Well, he does. But it’s more along the lines of “hey Barnes” and “how are you?” which aren’t exactly the Most Thought Provoking Statements Ever Made.

Summer comes swiftly, and about near with a vengeance. Tony’s dealing with a heat wave and trying to figure out if going outside is even worth it, and then he and Bucky are alone in the kitchen.

Tony was debating getting a couple of popsicles from the freezer. Bucky is considering sabotaging Clint’s smoothie that was supposed to be special for tonight, but that he’ll most likely forget.

“Hey,” Bucky says. “Um, can we talk?”

Shit.

He’s been avoiding this, officially, for a month. Potentially more if you’re going to count a few choice events that have been brought up by his psyche.

“Sure thing, buttercup. What are we talking about. Economy, world crises, the great debate on financial advice?”

“Isn’t the third thing just the economy?”

“We can break it down over coffee.”

“Mm, maybe another time. No, I’m talking about us. About how I--I kind of ruined your life.”

Tony blinks.

“You didn’t ruin my life. If my life was ruined you’d be hit with so many lawsuits that I could make the rest of your life look like the third circle of Hell, or wherever it is that people go nowadays in Dante’s eyes. No, you didn’t ruin my life.”

“I still killed your parents.”

“If you hadn’t, someone else would’ve. Believe me, there were about fifteen others in line. Sometimes, myself included.”

“You can’t not take me seriously,” Bucky stresses. “I still did a terrible thing. I just want to make sure you know that you’re being too kind.”

“I most certainly am not,” Tony says. “Being too kind would have me feeding you grapes.”

Bucky’s face blanks.

“Don’t. I...I don’t wanna take advantage of your hospitality. I don’t want to remind you of what happened.”

“You wouldn’t be here if you weren’t wanted,” Tony says. “Believe me. And if you want to leave, you’re free to leave. I don’t want to make you feel like you need to stay here.”

“I...I want to make it up to you.”

“Then use BARF and review it,” Tony says. “I’m serious. I need user feedback, and you’re the best candidate for it. Also, please try to convince Steve to wear neon yellow. I just want to see if he’ll do it.”

Steve wears neon yellow. Tony laughs so hard he cries.

Bucky smiles.

It’s a nice smile, really. It’s wide and happy and wow. That’s all worth it.

And then BARF. Bucky just gives user feedback, nothing else. Tony doesn’t want to know anything else, but they start talking more.

Tony finds out that Bucky’s been doing crosswords to catch up on current events, and he’s bought taped recordings of World Series games.

He loves antique stores. He visits them and brings home little trinkets that he remembers in his own house, or what he remembered. He watched old commercials from the fifties and sixties, laughed as he remembered the Sears catalogs that would come in the mail.

“Me an’ my sisters would beg my mom for new clothes from the catalog, and she never would. Always sewed our pants and skirts so damn well, I probably could’ve used them for the next ten years.”

Tony laughs.

“Well, I can’t promise I can sew. But I could give you some armor that could last you twenty years, if you want. Steve told me you’re thinking about doing some distance missions.”

“Just observation, no armor required.”

“Sometimes it’s the simple missions that get the worst hits,” Tony says. “Believe me, I know how it goes. So, do you want some armor?”

Bucky smiles.

“Sure.”

“I’ll need feedback.”

“I’ll give it all I’ve got.”

Bucky is a goddamned dream to design for. He knows exactly what he needs, what areas are most likely to be pierced, and also has a flair for the dramatic: he requests an Iron Man helmet be embroidered on the back.

“You’re really just trying to be sweet on me, aren’t you?” Tony teases.

“My master plan to gain your fortune,” Bucky teases right back. “I’ll waste it all on champagne pools and the worst-looking but most expensive shoes I can find.”

Tony laughs.

“Sugar, that’d be incredible if you could spend all of my money on that. I’d commend you.”

Bucky smiles, and it shouldn’t be as nice of a smile as it is, but here Tony is with his opinions and his concerning thought that maybe he wants to see more of Bucky.

In the morning, there begins a routine. Tony is always up at eight o’clock. It’s a rare lull in Avenger-morning-routines: Nat, Steve, and Bruce are all done, and Thor and Clint won’t be in until ten o’clock at the earliest.

(What can he say? Thor’s a god and Clint...well. He needs a lot of beauty sleep.)

Tony makes coffee, and Bucky makes them both breakfast. Says that officially, it’s to test and make sure that his prosthetic is still performing under optimal conditions.

(They both know that’s not it.)

Tony always says he pours too much water, makes enough for two cups.

Steve calls them out on it.

“You two are being weird,” he says. “And not like Thor and Bruce trying to reenact that one show about ghosts and unsolved things.”

“That’s their form of courtship, don’t be fucking rude,” Clint remarks. Natasha snorts.

“What, us being weird?” Tony asks, pouring a bit more coffee into Bucky’s mug. He always uses too much creamer and then won’t finish his coffee unless there’s more. “Why do you say that?”

“It’s because you both do couple shit,” Bruce says, breezing into the kitchen. “Also, Steve, lovely to see that you have volunteered to be the next guest on Avengers: Unsolved. We’re planning on using you as a guilt-trip in order to access files about aliens.”

“Truth will be found!” Thor adds. “But also, yes. Bucky, I thought you were taking him on a date to the art museum on Saturday.”

Bucky turns red. So does Tony. It really is quite inconvenient.

“I mean, we could go on a date there,” Tony says. “If you’re okay with that.”

“You’re doing this in public?” Natasha asks, eyebrows raised. “Hm. Would not have called that.”

“You owe me fifteen dollars,” Bucky says. “Not you Tony, quit looking at me like that. Yes, it will be a date on Saturday, I’ll wear a nice shirt. Nat said that I couldn’t do anything that surprised her.”

“Technically, Tony surprised me.”

“I thought dates were mutual events, hm? Fifteen dollars. I’ll use it to buy the best bouquet in New York.”

“The best bouquet costs over a thousand dollars,” Thor answers.

“Not questioning how you know that, but I’m scared of you,” Bucky says. “Then I will get the best fifteen-dollar-bouquet in New York.”

Tony snorts, smiling.

“I guess I’ll spray a bit of my perfume on my pillow then, soldier.”

“I’ll pick you up at noon sharp,” Bucky says, grinning. He finishes his coffee. “We’ll make fun of Steve’s art exhibit together.”

#lovelyirony writes #holy shit this was longer than expected #thank you to angel for this inspiration #winteriron #avengers as a family #personally i like the fact that thor and bruce are doing avengers unsolved and have to force different avengers on #natasha romanoff #bruce banner #thor #bucky barnes #tony stark #howard stark #maria stark #sally the therapist

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imagine-that-one-thing · 3 years

Text

Her Majesty || 16

Letters patent.

Anastasia’s POV.

The papers fall from my hands, hitting the floor before I step over them, “Excuse me,” I mutter, hurrying past Harry and finding my way to the bathroom. My hands grapple with clutching the edge of the sink as I bow my head in defeat.

This can’t be happening.

One hand stays grasped to the edge, and the other holds my hair back, my stomach twisting at the realisation of everything.

The door creaks open, and Harry steps into the bathroom, thoughtfully pushing my hand away and holding my hair back for me.

“This is why you need a break.” Harry sighs, stroking my back while my stomach violently turns and the remainder of my afternoon tea makes an awful appearance.

I take a breath and press a hand to my stomach, straightening my back slightly, “Now isn’t the time for sly remarks,” I murmur, closing my eyes for a moment, another wave hitting me harshly.

I lift my head again, taking another breath and praying that it’s the last time I throw up.

Harry lets go of my hair as I lean back on him, my energy depleting extremely quickly.

We are stuck. Harry and I are bound to the monarchy with no way out. “He tied me to the monarch?” The words leave my mouth, and Harry nods his head as I gaze at him through the mirror, “We are stuck in it… Why’d he do this?” I softly question, tears falling down my blushed cheeks, “I can’t end it.”

Harry wraps his arm around me carefully, “Sweetheart, I think the point was so that the monarch can’t end at all. Your Dad issued letters patent.”

“The only person who can end this shitshow is my hypothetical child?”

“That’s how it seems.” Harry nods.

“The only way anyone can cause this monarch to end is if I have a baby? Not even Pippa can end it? Parliament can’t even end this fucking shit?”

Harry again shakes his head, “The monarch can only end with your kid.”

“Our,” I correct him, “Our hypothetical kid.”

“What do we do, Anna?”

I take a moment before I take a breath. I step away from his embrace, and I turn to face him, leaning against the counter, and I smile up at him softly, “We rule the monarch with an iron fist, Harry.”

“Excuse me?” Harry’s eyes grow big.

“We do what was intended, to rule the monarch and keep it thriving. But you’re going to call for a dissolution of Parliament. Every seat in the House of Commons will become vacant.”

“Why? Pippa said parliament seats couldn’t change.”

“She is wrong. Call for the dissolution, Harry. Then we can work on getting her disbanded as Primeinsiter.”

“We can’t get rid of her. We can’t vote; royals stay neutral in that branch.”

“Harry, I am aware of how this works. Please, listen to me, clear the seats, order new parliament officials. It’s a strategic dissolution.”

“So, now you want to end Parliament since we can’t end the monarch?”

I nod my head, “You and I both know some of the people who want me dead are currently members of parliament, call for re-election, so they lose their seats. If they are not voted in, you can figure out how to keep them at bay and away from us,” I respond.

“Isn’t there a rule about Parliament only being dissolved at a certain time?” Harry asks.

I shrug my shoulders, “Parliament can be dissolved at the beginning of the 25th working day before a general election… The Fixed-term Parliaments Act, which you are also going to sign and change today. Before the Fixed-term Parliaments Act, the government had the power to call elections at a time of its choosing, and I want that back.”

“I hate being the middle man,” Harry groans, “This is fucking ridiculous.”

“Then let me have the crown back.”

“Talk to your mother about it, Anna. I don’t have a say over having the fucking crown. I have tried to hand it back… Pippa and your mother have not allowed me.”

“The best thing about you being King is that you can sign whatever the fuck you want and not listen to them. You can hand me the crown; you just have to sign it on over or find a loophole as my father did.”

“I much prefer my daily job as security than as King.”

“Listen to me and do this, Harry. When Parliament is dissolved, all unfinished parliamentary business falls, including bills that have not received Royal Assent. Bills cannot be carried over. Whatever plans any of them have will fail. If I can’t abolish this circus, I will join them and end it for them and take back the monarch... You are either with me or against me, Harry.”

“I am with you, Anastasia,” Harry responds instantly, “I will start the process of everything, not that I know what the fuck I am doing,” Harry trails off, “Any other requests while I am here? Perhaps request my blood?”

“Oh, ha, ha, you’re funny,” I roll my eyes, “That’s all for now, I will keep thinking of Royal assents I want you to part take in… Until then, I have to make my first appearance as Queen, even though that is far from the truth. Are you attending?”

“I am,” Harry nods, “Matthew has Oliver and myself on your service.”

“Great… and if you don’t wish to participate in my plan to take back control of the monarch, we can always have a baby and abolish the monarchy.”

“Uhm…” Harry trails off, “No. All due respect, but if we have a kid, I’d rather we talk about it properly, and right now, I don’t want a baby in this mix, no, no— and no.” Harry shakes his head sternly.

“I’m sure parliament would love it.”

“I’m sure that would piss them off and make things worse, no.”

“Great, so you’ll be on my side?”

“Yes. Anna. I have always been on your side. Now I’m going to take a nap until your event. Please, for the love of God, don’t start shit, don’t make any plans, don’t do anything irrational like you did the night with Henry. I don’t need more blood on my hands, literally and metaphorically.”

“I will be the perfect princess everyone knows me to be.”

“You say that with an evil look to your eyes… I really don’t need to do a protocol.”

I shrug my shoulders and step closer to him, “You have my word, I won’t start shit,” I smile, drawing small circles on my stomach, feeling a bit more relaxed, oddly.

“I am confused as to what made you switch from hating the monarch to wanting to control it again?”

I take a breath and shrug my shoulders, “Sometimes you just have to play the cards you are dealt and hope that the hand you have is the winning hand.”

“But you suddenly flipped your switch, Anna… Do I need to be concerned? What happened to the Princess that wanted nothing more than to leave and have a normal life?”

“She realised that it would never happen. This is what I was born for, Harry. I have tried to get away so many times, and I can’t. I have no choice but to deal with it. You can still leave. You don’t have to be stuck in this, Harry. You have an out.”

Harry shakes his head and takes my left hand with his, “Anna,” Harry begins with a soft breath, his thumb rubbing over where my rings would rest if I were able to wear them. He reaches his other hand up to my neck where he follows the thin chain and pulls out my rings from under my shirt, “I gave you this ring and proposed for a reason, I put that wedding band on, for a reason, I wear my wedding band, for a reason. I love you, and I want to be with you. I don’t want an out. I don’t want to leave. I can deal with the monarch. It does not scare me.” Harry informs me sweetly and calmly, “I may not be able to tell the world I love you or act upon things right now, but I don’t want to not live life without being your partner, even if you do despise me for taking your damn crown,” Harry chuckles, breaking the slight tension in the space between us.

I do not despise him for taking the crown. I will admit that him having ownership of it is a better option. I am still in no headspace to hold such power, and I am still struggling with daily activities. Royal life isn’t easy, but it is much more challenging when you lose your father but gain a monarch to run that you are not ready for. My father may have prepared me in a royal status sort of way to run the place, but I was not mentally or emotionally prepared. I don’t think anyone can be emotionally prepared for the loss of a loved one.

“Are you sure?”

Harry nods his head, “I am more than sure, sweetheart. Are you okay? I still don’t understand how you changed your mind about the monarch.”

I shrug my shoulders, “I don’t know if I am truly okay. Today’s news physically made me sick,” I admit, “But this is my family legacy. I would be destroying what generations have built. My father did build a great monarch… It may have some evil people involved in it, but the people are thriving, and the country is doing well. I can sit here and wish to abolish and destroy it all because of my own bitterness, or I can figure out how to lead without being held back.”

Harry smiles softly and nods his head, “It is good to see you coming to your power as Queen, darling.

“I have a great husband and King to back me up.”

“No, baby. You don’t have a King. You have a husband. I am merely the husband to have your back.”

I shake my head, “No, Harry. If I am reigning Queen, you will be known as King. I will be changing that. You will have that title. I can be Queen and reign on my own, don’t get me wrong, but I want a King by my side.”

“We can cross that bridge when we get there… But I want to know when the staff will know about us, and I am tired of hiding us. Surely the staff have figured it out.”

I shake my head, “The staff do not know, but you are still the talk of the ladies,” I laugh, “A lot of the ladies keep their eyes on you. Rumour has it that there is a pool on how long it takes you to get a girlfriend.”

“What?”

“The staff, they make assumptions about you since you’re so private. Some think you have a secret girlfriend, and others think that you’re just a workaholic.”

Harry rolls his eyes, “Jokes on them, I have a secret wife, and I am a workaholic. Do they just sit and talk about me to you?”

I nod my head, “Yeah, I learn new things about you all the time.” I chuckle, unsure how he doesn’t know that many of the female staff swoons over him.

“And you don’t mind?”

“No, I find it amusing,” I respond, “I don’t know how they haven’t figured out we are together. You are always in my room.”

“I am security,” Harry shrugs, “I think a few of them know. They just keep quiet. I know Grace has an idea. She keeps smirking at my ring.”

“Oh well, I don’t care, I am unsure how the people will react, but I guess we will find out. I need to get ready for the event… I am giving a speech.”

“Mhm,” Harry hums, “So Pippa told me. How do you feel about that?”

“I think I am okay, considering I just threw up a handful of times,” I sarcastically respond. “I uh… I haven’t seen the speech. I am not allowed to write my own. They don’t trust me.” I roll my eyes, “I much prefer if I could write things myself. I don’t like being dictated to.”

Harry steps to the side and grabs one of the face towels that are folded neatly. He runs it under the cold water before touching it to my cheeks lightly, “I don’t think you’re okay at all. You don’t have to do this speech.” Harry taps the damp towel to my forehead, my eyes closing as it soothes me. “You look like you need to sit down for a few minutes,” Harry softly enlightens me, and I nod my head in agreement.

My body feels weak and exhausted.

Harry guides me back to the bedroom, being overly protective. I sit on the bed and rest against the soft pillows. Harry sits beside me on the edge and dabs my forehead, “Seriously, if you’re not up to it, you don’t have to do the speech.”

“Harry, I have to be a big girl and face the fear. One way or another. It’s all just a lot to handle,” I sigh, “Will you just ask my lady maids to come in an hour later than usual? So I can lay down.”

Harry nods, “Yes,” He leans over and kisses my forehead, “Try to relax.”

“It’s hard when the damn papers are on the floor and dictate my future.”

Harry shakes his head, “We will figure it out. One way or another, it’ll be okay.”

He is right; one way or another it’ll work out the way it’s meant to. What’s meant to be will always be. Right now, what’s meant to be is taking my world and turning it upside down.

♚ ♚ ♚

With heavy breaths, I try my best to compose myself and steadily speak, but with every word I am forced to utter, I feel a heaviness in my chest that’s threatening to break my walls of resistance and cause me to break. This speech is the first public speech that I have addressed, and it is turning out to be a lot harder than I had anticipated.

I hold back my tears, aware that cameras everywhere and several sets of eyes cast upon me. It was too soon for me to have to do this. Speaking about my father is still raw and cuts me like a knife. I shouldn’t have let Pippa coerce me into delivering a speech, and I should have taken my time with healing and working through things. The monarch and the expectations can wait. My mental and emotional health is more important than addressing the public and all the national leaders who acquire my attention.

I sense a hand to the small of my back, and I take my eyes away from the paper in front of me. I glance to my side and see Harry beside me, my other half, my shoulder to cry on and the person who holds me up when I’m down and praises the happiness with me. “I can’t,” I whisper, choking up with tears, finally allowing them to cascade down my cheeks. I attempt to turn into him so that I can’t be viewed grieving, but I can’t wholly hide, I can’t lean in for a hug and sob like I want to. I have to remember the boundaries between the royal and security guard as the people are viewing.

Harry doesn’t say anything. He naturally places an arm around me, leaving no gaps between us before moving the paper closer to him. Harry clears his throat and, without warning, begins to continue my speech for me. “He was an honorary member of society, a king that will be remembered for his devotion to the nation but most of all will be remembered as a loving father and doting husband.”

I subtly wipe a few of my tears away, doing my best to hold firm as a future Queen. Coronation day hasn’t arrived, so I’m technically not Queen until then, not that it matters considering it will be Harry’s coronation. I stand before my people, vulnerable and emotional, something that is frowned upon and has been for years. It is rare to see a royal display emotions other than pleasure and power, especially when broadcasted over news outlets and social media. A royal is to uphold a particular disposition. We aren’t meant to come across as weak. As I stand here, with tears, I’m aware that I may seem inadequate, but I’d rather appear weak and show the world I have emotions than hide them. Anyone in my shoes would still be mourning the loss of their father, no matter his status, for me to uphold the image that I’m absolutely fine and emotionless is not what I want to support. I do not want to be Queen and viewed as though I have no emotions. Raw emotions show character. It teaches people it’s okay to feel things, it’s okay to break, no matter who you are— it doesn’t make me any less of a Queen. For those who look up to me, I don’t want them to observe me as just another royal or another one who follows all protocols and traditions, and I will not sustain the image of perpetually being emotionless. I am Queen, and I am human.

The speech ends, and Harry guides me away from the small podium, escorting me to escape behind closed doors, where I find a place to sit and compose myself, “Thank you,” I breathe out, “It was too soon,” I whisper, wiping a few tears away from my eyes, doing my best to hold myself together. This is not how I wanted things to go. I didn’t want to break down and for Harry to have to save me from emotional wreckage.

Harry bends down to my level, placing a hand on my knee, “You did a grand job.”

“I started to stutter and cried. I balled my eyes out, Harry.” I don’t feel proud of myself because I couldn’t finish the speech and honour my father in the way he deserves.

“And? That shows that you’re human; you’re normal. Us normal people stutter and have emotions, baby,” Harry winks, managing to pull a chuckle from me, “Pippa did that on purpose, to have you break down in front of people...” Harry trails off.

I would love to say I’m surprised, but I’m not. I’m the centre of attention with the media spotlight, and it would make her night to have me breaking down. Anything in an attempt to continue to prove I’m unfit to take the crown. That’s probably her plan, prove I am incompetent and make sure I never have that royal power. Unlucky for her, Harry is on my side and not hers as she thinks.

“How kind,” I sigh, “Thanks for saving me.”

“Always,” Harry responds, “Wipe the tears away, put on a smile and show them the tough Queen I know you can be, don’t let that speech or Pippa bring you down, okay?”

“Are you giving me a pep talk?” I stifle a laugh as I wipe away a few more tears.

“Someone has to,” Harry responds, standing back to his feet and offering his hand to help me off the chair and to my own feet. He brings me in for a hug and holds me close, “Pippa wants you to fail. She’s watching,” Harry murmurs, “I love you.”

I draw away and nod my head, mouthing an ‘I love you, too’ before taking a step away from him, well aware that it’s only a matter of seconds before someone bursts through the door to summon me. I adjust my dress and posture, taking a deep breath and looking for Harry’s nod and gesture for me to head back to the same room that left me weeping. I stroll in, head held high, my heels hammering the marble flooring and keeping my composure as a strong-willed, calm and collected woman.

I make my rounds by talking to different people and allowing certain photographers at the event to take my photo. With everything that has happened, we need some excellent media coverage within the royals. I am sure Victoria’s death will continue to be in the headlines. I’m sure somewhere down the line, the issue that happened at the palace with Henry’s doppelgänger will arise and spark significant headlines. Royal scandals and murders seem to be the headlines everyone enjoys. I will not be the following headline or humiliation. The media will not predict my downfall or portray me as weak.

As I politely dismiss one of the diplomats, Pippa makes her presence known and offers me a smile, “May I hug you?” She questions and I shake my head.

“Security isn't allowing me to be touched,” I lie, not wanting Pippa’s hug nor anyone else’s. I’m not much in the mood to be touched.

Oliver nods his head, “Correct, strict orders, she isn’t to be touched.”

Pippa rolls her eyes, “Harry’s orders?”

“No,” Oliver instantly responds before I can, “Head of security, please respect the decisions,” Oliver narrows his eyes towards Pippa, not caring that she is a government official. Harry has trained him well, I see.

Pippa nods her head in agreement, “I just wanted to say that the speech was lovely.”

“You wrote it.”

“You’re very hostile, Anna,” Pippa sighs.

“You set me up.” I point out the obvious.

“I’m not sure I understand what you mean,” Pippas' voice is soft as she cocks her head to the side. “It was kind of Harry to step up, but now people will start to speculate,” she trails off into a whisper, making sure nobody can hear her. God forbid if the world knows I have a steady relationship with someone who isn’t royal.

“Perhaps if I weren’t forced to make the speech, he wouldn’t have had to step up and comfort me. I don’t appreciate the events of this evening.”

“Anna, it is not my fault,” she shakes her head, “I followed procedure. It was time you spoke.”

“And as it is time for me to walk away from this conversation, good evening, Pippa,” I dismiss the conversation, walking away before either of us can speak any further. I do not care for what she has to say right now or for the excuses. I’m sure she will blame my mother and say my mother was partly to blame for the speech. Which, I’m sure my mother agreed to the address and for me to speak tonight, and I believe they were both wrong for forcing it upon me and not letting me grieve, but my anger is towards Pippa for now.

♚ ♚ ♚

For the evening, I stood my ground; I didn’t let anything bother me or break me down— I didn’t run to Harry or have him, or Oliver devise an escape plan— I survived my first event without my father and as QUEEN… Just not officially. I know I can do this, it may be arduous, and it may take everything I have inside me, but I can do this. It does make it a little more manageable to know that I have Harry beside me if I need him. That alone gives me a little extra power and support. Sometimes, all someone needs is a bit of confidence and support to thrive.

I escort across the grounds with Oliver, my heels in my hand, while my other hand prevents the hem from dragging across the soft grass that smells of sweet saturnine with every step I take. For the first night in a while, there are no battering winds that howl until the early hours, there is no bitter chill, it finally feels bearable to be outside without the need of heavy coats and wraps, perhaps this is a short-lived moment, but I will take it and relish in it the best that I can. Oliver gently grabs me and pulls back on me, drawing me behind him. “Don’t come any further,” Oliver shouts, his hand reaching for his gun.

“What is it with the men always pulling a gun on me, geez,” Madeleine responds sarcastically.

“Announce yourself formally,” Oliver responds.

“Princess Madeleine Noelle Veil of Denmark. Anastasia, tell him who I am,” Madeleine huffs, holding her hands up as Oliver continues to stare her down.

“She’s fine, Oliver.” I chuckle.

“That’s not what Harry said,'' Oliver responds, causing me to laugh. I am not surprised that Harry and Madeleine don’t get along.

“It’s fine,” I assure Oliver, “Harry has already screened her. She was here for the funeral, remember?” I try to jog Oliver's memory.

Oliver nods his head and steps aside, allowing me to walk closer to Madeleine, “Why are you out here?” I softly ask, looking around, unsure why she is by herself and unaccompanied by a guard.

“Fresh air, Harry said I could come out; he is watching from the doors,” Madeleine gestures towards the Palace doors a little further from our position. “They burned down the Palace, though.”

“Who?” I softly question, walking beside Madeleine.

Madeleine lifts her shoulders into a shrug, “I don’t know. Louis seems to think it is the people who are causing everyone havoc.”

“Why would they target your Palace? I am sorry. Which one? Charlottenlund Palace?”

Madeleine shakes her head, “Amalienborg, lucky nobody was there. It was intentionally set. Mum and Dad were meant to be there.”

“Perhaps it was an accident, surely?” I suggest, unsure of who would purposely do such a thing to Amalienborg. Madeleine’s family have nothing to do with us British royals; they stay mutual and don’t cause issues— They’re the quiet royals that don’t mind being under the radar— They show up for special events and go on about their business.

Madeleine heavily sighs, and I push the Palace doors open, not allowing Oliver to open the door for me, “So, you and Louis have been talking?” I change the subject, not sure how to go about the issue with her Palace catching fire. I don’t fully believe that it was deliberate— there has to be some logical explanation.

Madeleine grows quiet, walking into the Palace behind me, “Madeleine?”

“He is lovely to talk to, a good man.”

“Stay away from him, Madeleine,” I warn her, not wanting to see either of them get hurt or drag me into their mess.

“What? Why?”

I raise a brow and shake my head, “He is my childhood best friend. I can’t choose between you both, so if you break up, I can’t choose.”

Madeleine laughs, “Who said anything about dating?”

“Whatever the two of you are doing, I am sure it is more than talking,” I mutter, knowing both of them too well. They’re stuck in a palace together on the same floor, and I highly doubt they’re talking about royal duties and discussing policies.

“I beg to differ,” Madeleine shakes her head, “He is good company.”

“Whatever you do, be nice to him.”

“You have little faith in me.”

“You tend to be intimidating, be nice. Do you need me, or are you just roaming the palace?” I softly question as we reach my floor. I’m not trying to dismiss her rudely or be a horrible friend, but I think she’d prefer to find comfort in Louis than me.

“Roaming,” she responds, walking off before I can say anything further.

I glance towards Oliver and raise a brow, “Do you think she and Louis are a thing?”

Oliver shrugs his shoulders, “I know nothing and see nothing.”

“Mhm,” I hum, not convinced, “I know that’s a lie, but for now, I’m going to leave it alone. I don’t know if I want to know,” I chuckle and shake my head, “Thank you for your service,” I respond, stepping into my room and closing the door behind me.

I smile over at Harry and walk towards him, “I did it, I survived, and I didn’t need you.”

“Ouch,” Harry laughs, and I sigh, realising how my words came out. “I know,” he shakes his head before I can say anything, “I’m proud of you.”

“Me too,” I grin, stepping closer to him and kissing him sweetly. He pulls me closer, and I wrap my arms around his neck, deepening the sweet kiss.

I have missed the taste of his lips and the burning energy that spreads like wildfire and ignites my soul. He sits on the edge of the bed and pulls me into his lap, where I straddle him at his hips, his hands roaming my body while mine eagerly moves to his button-down, flicking each button before he draws his honey lips from mine. He leans closer and presses his lips to my neck, causing me to go weak instantly. I tilt my head to the side and press my hands to his shoulders, the soft kisses down my slender column already causing my head to spin. I feel him bite down gently before pulling away with a devious smirk and bright, cunning eyes. He drops his hand to my thigh and glides his hand against my soft skin, ever so slowly and delicately, ignoring my dress and inching closer and closer to the material of my underwear. He dances along with the lace band, teasing me before I harshly kiss him, needing to feel him, one way or another. He caresses the lace, causing my breath to hitch when I feel it move slightly to the slide. I pull away from his lips and see him smirk, his eyes gleaming with delight at my eager anticipation and my yearning. “No foreplay, no teasing, let’s go,” I shake my head, my hand moving to his pants and unzipping them. Harry chuckles and disagrees.

He puts me at ease and slides a finger in, a breath exhaling from my lips as I move my hips slightly to his circular motions. His fingers slide upwards, relentlessly moving, dipping, swirling and circling around, adding pressure and attempting to obtain the one spot I have been craving to be touched.

“No, please,” I sigh, the sound of the door knocking echoing through the room, taking me away from the sensational feeling I have been deprived of, “Don’t stop,” I instruct, my hands pressed to his shoulders, my nails digging into the material of his shirt.

“Really want me, huh?”

“Tired of interruptions,” I whisper with all honesty. Every single time we get time alone, we are interrupted. It has been a few weeks, at least six since we had a moment to ourselves, and I’m pretty sure we were also interrupted that time too.

I tilt my head back, my mouth allowing a small groan to escape as I am enthralled with the circular touch and rhythm he’s presenting me with. “Harry,” I huff, “Keep going,” I instruct, feeling the aching desire through my body, the sensations radiating through every nerve possible. I feel my body begin to go weak as he holds me firmly closer to him, my legs starting to quiver, and my body squirming against him. “Harry—“ I breathe out, my chest rising rapidly.

Abruptly, without warning, Harry stops and slides his fingers out, causing my mouth to drop in utter disappointment.

You have to be fucking kidding me. He shakes his head and uses his free hand to adjust his pants, managing to do so without bothering to move me, “Ye’ all wet.”

“No shit, you got me all hot and bothered,” I mutter, my irritation washing away the moment he unzips my dress from the back and takes it off of me with ease.

He stands up, holding me against him, forcing his pants down his legs and leaving them on the floor before setting me down on the bed and wasting no time with moving the lace in his way and teasing me with the tip of his length at my entrance. I curl my fingers into his shirt and draw his chest closer, taking bold possession of his mouth, tasting the honeysuckle flavour and moving my hips to the motions of his. My body absorbs the intimate feel of him, blood humming in both our veins’ with every deep repetitive thrust that takes place. He moans into our kiss, and I tighten my grip on his shirt, the heat between us intensifying. Probing in a slow, repetitive rhythm, he perceives my every desire.

My head spins with the achy feeling of him inside of me, my legs quivering. He takes my hands and forces me to release his shirt, moving my arms over my head and holding them in place, “Hold it,” He instructs, my breath hitching in my throat as I’m getting closer and closer.

Tangy taste and male scent fill the air between us with every powerful thrust that drives us closer and closer to the barrier of resistance I am fighting. Our tongues dip and swirl between the soft groans of the two of us while entangled together in the heat of our bodies.

My breaths become shallow, and I can feel the tingly sensation in my toes that radiate around my body. My body closes tightly around him, and he squeezes my arm slightly, “Anna,” he breathes against my lips, my back beginning to arch, my body fighting the urge and squirming under him.

Our breaths quicken and the desire between us thickens to the point it's almost unbearable, and we can’t get any closer to each other or enough of each other.

He falls beside me, and we catch our breath with crooked grins. I tilt my head to look at him, “Was worth the bloody wait,” I chuckle.

Harry swallows hard, “Had been a while,” he agrees, propping up on his forearm and looking at me with his cheery grin, “Round 2?”

“We’d get interrupted,” I laugh, inching closer and pressing my lips to his just as his phone vibrates on the side table, “Fuckin’ hell, does everyone just have a bell that goes off every time we attempt to be intimate?” Harry pulls away and mutters, reaching over for his phone, “Fuck,” Harry sighs, forcing himself off the bed.

“What now?”

“I’m pretty sure a bell goes off when we try to make love, constantly interrupted,” Harry huffs, walking around the room and finding a clean pair of pants, “Always fucking something,” he shakes his head, his fingers quickly typing away on his screen, “I won’t be coming to bed any time soon, I’ll see you in the morning,” Harry informs me, looking at his shirt and noticing the creases, making the quick decision to change it.

I nod my head and pull the sheet to cover my exposed body, “Is there a problem?”

“I just have to watch the cameras until five in the morning to make sure there’s no suspicious activity from the staff who are currently being blamed for Henry’s murder,” Harry informs me, his eyes narrowing towards me. Whatever Victoria and my father managed to get themselves into has proven to be more than any of us can handle.

Harry claims he can handle it and figure things out, but I’m starting to wonder if it’s just a matter of time before it all catches up to us. He can protect me all he wants, but the plot continues to thicken. “That means you won’t be on my service,” I sigh, remembering my royal duties for tomorrow.

“Probably not. I need to sleep at some point. Matthew or Oliver will look after you. Guess I have to look into the palace fire for Madeleine, too.”

“What about Henry?”

“I don’t know about the arrangements.”

“No, how are you handling it? Sweeping it under the rug? Announcing it?”

“Baby, I do not know. I think they’re going to release that he passed peacefully in his sleep from an unknown cause… The palace doesn’t need any bad publicity, so I’m trying to hide it the best I can.” … “Just don’t talk to anyone about this, okay? Not even the lady’s in waiting or your assistant or publicist, nobody.”

I nod my head, “I know… Eleanor hasn’t mentioned it.” … “Good luck, King, I’m going to sleep now,” I half-smile, not thrilled that he has to handle this circus and not myself.

20 notes · View notes

jungshookz · 4 years

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Winemaker!Hobi!!!! y/n is wine tasting with her friend (idk why people go wine tasting but I'm sure it's for parties or something) and she forgets you aren't actually supposed to SwaLLow the wine and gets a little tipsy and she embarrasses herself, and her friend, but Hobi is like uwu she cute

➺ pairing; jung hoseok x reader

➺ genre; sommelier!hoseok, mostly comedy because y/n’s kind of a dummy

➺ wordcount: 3.6k

➺ what to expect; “the choice to spit or swallow is entirely up to you.”

➺ note; after one million years i have returned with a hobi drabble!! i thought this request was sO good and also everyone look how handsome sommelier!hoseok is :’)) i hate wine but i would chug ten bottles just to sit around and listen to him explain to me how white wines go with creamy foods and red wines go with spicy foods :’)) okay happy reading clink clink!! (gif source unknown but i found it off here!!)

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

sometimes the fact that you’re friends with kim taehyung genuinely confuses you

not just because you’re complete opposites in terms of literally everything but also because-

well… that’s pretty much it.

the two of you are like... a peanut butter and pickle sandwich!

when you first look at it you might think that combination is a little funky anD could possibly lead to destroying a toilet BUT when you actually give it a try you realise it’s actually pretty great!

…you get the point

so when taehyung told you that he wanted to spend his birthday at a wine tasting event, you really weren’t that surprised because of couRse he wants to spend his birthday drinking wine and socialising with other wine snobs instead of doing something actually fun like… literally anything else in the entire world

you’ve always prided yourself on being a good friend so if wine tasting was what taehyung wanted, then wine tasting was what he’d get!

but, uh

to be perfectly honest

you’re not really a wine person

you’re more of a margarita person

you just don’t see the appeal of drinking fermented grapes!!!!

why drink bitter grape juice when you can drink sugary lime goodness??

why drink something that’s been ageing in a barrel for like fifteen years when you can drink something that nevER ages due to the insane amount of additives in the premix formulas??

“wowiE, check out that spread!” you look over at the round table in the centre of the room as you and tae trickle in with the rest of the participants of the event “is that fondue?? holy shit.”

“hopefully you don’t burn the roof of your mouth again.” taehyung snorts before the smile falters on his face, “…maybe you should stay away from the fondue altogether.”

the two of you take your seats (there are fancy name cards for everyone!!) and you smooth your skirt out before smiling politely at a couple of the other people at the table

so far, the rest of the people here are… to put it as nicely as possible… more mature than you thought they’d be

but then again this is a wine-tasting seminar so it would be a huge surprise to see other twenty-something year olds hanging out here

you feel out of place but taehyung is just soaking it all up

he’s happily chatting away with the older gentleman seated next to him

sometimes you tell taehyung that you feel like he’s a fifty-five year old man trapped in the body of a twenty-four year old

and he never fights back because he knows it’s true

you let out a breath as you take a look around the room

god

you’re going to be stuck here for a good two hours drinking wine

maybe you can sneak away to the hotel bar or something

taehyung probably wouldn’t notice, right?

but would that make you a bad friend?? abandoning him here when you said this was a thing you were going to do with him??

“you know, i see myself as a wine enthusiast. the more i drink, the more enthusiastic i become!” taehyung laughs heartily and the other couples join him

christ almighty

you’re tempted to ask him which wine-mom facebook page it was that he stole that joke from

“does anyone have the time? i think it might be wine o’ clock soon…”

you let out a quiet groan as you feel your soul literally float out of your body

okay well

that’s your cue

you are ouTTa here

just as you’re about to get up off your chair, you hear the door slam shut and-

“good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen! welcome to today’s wine-tasting event. my name is hoseok, and i’m going to be your host…”

you shift in your seat as you follow the host with your eyes

you feel your heart skip a beat when he spins around to face the table

he’s handsome

like vERY handsome

perfectly tousled dark brown hair

bright twinkly eyes

his nose is literally perfect!!! perfectly slanted and perfectly pointed!!!

and his smile!!!!! it’s shaped like a heart!!!!! how precious!!!!

the thin gold chain hanging around his neck winks at you under the lights and you swallow thickly

it seems as though you’ve found a reason to stay at this event

as hoseok begins to explain how the structure of the event is going to pan out, you find yourself paying extra attention to the way his lips curve around certain words

“as you’ve probably already noticed, there’s an abundance of different dishes in front of you that’ll go great with some of the wine you’ll be tasting today… over here, a roasted fruit and cheese platter… a smoky three cheese fondue with some freshly baked french baguette slices on the side… popcorn with sesame glazed pistachios…” he slowly makes his way around the table as he introduces each of the dishes and you feel your heart drumming away as he gets closer and closer to you, “dark chocolate sea salt cashews… baked brie with figs and walnuts…”

and you think it might be a nervous habit or something but whenever he pauses his tongue pokes out quickly to lick over his bottom lip

whatever it is it’s cuTE

as he passes you and tae you catch a whiff of his cologne and for some reason you instinctively cross your legs

and when hoseok looks directly at you your thighs automatically squeeze together and-

oh god

okAY you need to relax

why don’t you just stare at the fondue or something??

you’ll do that

you immediately look down at the three cheese fondue and you begin counting how many chunks of baguettes there are on the plate sitting next to it to keep you distracted

it’s a shame you’re staring down this fondue instead of paying attention to hoseok because you don’t notice the way his eyes scan over you before he’s quickly looking over at someone else

“i believe it’s essential to expectorate when you’re tasting a wide variety of wines, but i’m well aware that some people might not be comfortable with spitting into cups and pouring that into a dump bucket, so-“ you look back up at hoseok after you finish counting the baguette chunks (you counted twenty six but some are hidden under others) “the choice to spit or swallow is entirely up to you.”

you immediately choke (on nothing??? apparently??? goD you’re lame) and reach over to grab your glass of water to keep yourself from bursting into giggles

tae gives you a couple pats on the back before rolling his eyes playfully

you find toilet humour pretty funny so he’s not surprised that you chokEd over the spitting or swallowing thing

the corner of hoseok’s mouth twitches in a smirk when he hears you whisper: “in my humble opinion, spitters are quitters-“ to your friend before you’re pressing your lips together and holding back a grin

he looks at your name tag quickly

y/n y/l/n

how cute

“so you’re going to want to hold the glass up and examine the wine against the light,” hoseok explains, “what you’re looking for are colour and clarity.”

you let out a little sigh as you prop your cheek up on your fist while the other hand holds up your glass on wine

you look down at the information sheet on the table

it’s basically just a list of the wines that you’re trying today and you’re still on number one

it’s been like fifteen minutes!!!

there are seven wines you have to go through!!!

this hoseok guy is hot but gee whiZ he really takes his time with things

you could probably explain the wine better and faster than him!!

the colour of the wine is red!

…and you don’t know what clarity means so you’re just going to say that the clarity of the wine is also red!

“now stick your nose into the glass and give that a good whiff. what do you smell?” hoseok pauses as he looks around the table

“i’m getting notes of… i’m thinking strawberry…?”

“yes, so am i!”

“is it strawberry or cherry? i feel like it’s easy to mix those two up.”

“there’s something nutty… i’m picking up something nutty but i’m not quite sure…”

“it smells like wine to me.” you blurt out and tae elbows you when you get a couple irritated glances from your fellow wine buddies

what???

were you wronG??

you lean over to get closer to tae, “when are we drinking??” you whisper as hoseok continues to babble on about the different notes that you should be picking up on

“hush.” tae scowls before nudging you back

goD

this is torture!!!

“go ahead and give that a taste.”

there we go

you tilt your head back as you down the wine in one go

down the ol’ hatchet!

also

another reason as to why you’d be a much better sommelier than hoseok: his serving sizes are tiny!!!! how are you supposed to properly taste and appreciate the wine when he gave each of you like a tiny baby shot of it??

“now, this wine pairs particularly well with the dark chocolate sea salt cashews, so feel free to try that combination.”

you perk up at the mention of eating

noW we’re talking

>:)

since the two of you are here for him, taehyung didn’t think that he’d have to worry too much about you

because today is his day! he should be able to enjoy his fancy wine tasting event! he wants to chat about how the creamy brie cheese compliments this rich white wine! he wants to learn about how different types of glasses can change the way you taste a certain type of wine!!

but NO

he doesn’t check up on you for good half an hour and thIS is what he gets

you’re wasted

zooted!!!

completely gone!!!!

you’re slumping back against your chair with a dopey little smile on your face while trying to balance a little chunk of camembert cheese on the tip of your pointer finger

“y/n, you weren’t- you weren’t supposed to drink all of the wine, you blockhead-“ taehyung whispers as he plucks the cheese off your finger before using his napkin to wipe your hands clean

“well, i believe in noT being wasteful, sooOo i think you might be in the wrong here, mr. look-at-all-the-wine-left-in-my-glasses-“

“alright, so this next one is a merlot,” hoseok explains as he makes his way around the table to fill everyone’s glasses up, “in terms of flavour, it’s definitely more fruit-driven and has a more cherry-like aftertaste. it has a smoother finish compared to the cabernet sauvignon that we tried earlier…”

taehyung whacks the side of your leg when hoseok gets closer to the two of and you immediately straighten up in your seat

“wine me up, monsieur.” you hold your glass up for hoseok and offer him a bright smile

he chuckles and plucks the glass from your hand before setting it back down on the table

taehyung gives you a warning look before reaching up slowly and gesturing to keep your lips zipped

you raise your hands in defence before zipping your lips and throwing the key away anD blinking hard (it was supposed to be a wink)

taehyung raises a brow

you can’t zip your lips anD lock your lips that doesn’t make any sen-

you know what

it’s fine

as long as you don’t say anything else for the remainder of this session it’ll be fine

“everyone has a little in their glass? good. go ahead and give that a taste.” hoseok clears his throat before turning to put the bottle down

you take a small sip of it before tilting your head back and-

gurlrulrulrurlurlurrgurlugr-

“what the hell are you doing?!” tae hisses as he gives your arm a hard pinch

you choke and give your chest a couple hard pats before grimacing

“god, that did noT go down smoothly.” you whisper loudly and shake your head, “i’m giving that one a sssaaad face.” you slur as you doodle a little frowny face next to the name

taehyung’s eyes widen as he looks at what you did to your information sheet

where did you even find a pen????

‘not good very bitter if ass was a flavour then this would be ass juice’

‘supposed to be complimentary with aged cheddar but i think it would go better with a kraft single’

and then in thiS corner there are several attempts of you trying to spell sauvignon blanc and they’re all scribbled out

‘sawvinion bank. solveingrown blank. sawnananananananananananananananana batman!!!!’

oh dear god

you slap tae’s hand away before scribbling something new down

‘tasted better after gargling.’

oh dear GOD

“everything alright over there?” hoseok chirps and taehyung gives him a sheepish smile before nodding quickly

“all good! sorry, we’re all good.”

“alright, does anyone have any questions for me before we move on to-”

“oOh, i have a question!! i have one, i have one, pick me-“ you wiggle your arm around and hoseok nods in your direction

“yes, y/n?”

“i think, i think that we should order, um, we should, we should order a pizza. because these water crackers or whatever you call them are nOT doing it for me, like, look at this-“ you pick one up before popping it into your mouth and chewing obnoxiously, “fho dhry. fho DRY-” you let your jaw drop and taehyung suppresses a groan of mortification when what looks like straight up saND falls out of your mouth and sprinkles right into your wine glass

“oh, god. please stop, please stop-“ taehyung winces and quickly reaches over to snap your mouth shut

you slap tae’s hand away before swallowing your bite

“so, thoughts on this pissszzzaa?” you slur as you reach for another water cracker (tae moves the plate away before you get a chance to grab one) “is pepperoni okay with everyone? yes? yes? good? nice? yum? hm?” you look around the table while nodding enthusiastically, “barbara, my love, i noticed your earrings are from chanel which can only mean you’re loaded so because of tHAT i think you should be the one to pay for this extra large, cheese-stuffed crust pepperoni-

“okay! i think you need a time out-“ taehyung chuckles and gets up before grabbing you by the arm and yanking you up off your chair

“time out??” you gawk as you stumble over your feet, “i’m not three years old, taehyung, i- oOh, barbara, dahling, if we order within the next five minutes, we can get two cans of coke on the HOUSE-!“

sLam

“-you’re going to sit here and do nothing, got it?” taehyung scolds as he helps you get settled on the ground next to the door of the room

“i gotta say, i think all this wine is making you a little catty-“ you purr before playfully batting at taehyung’s face

luckily he moves before you get the chance to scratch his cheek

tae pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration and shakes his head, “y/n, you know you’re one of my best friends and that i care a lot about you, and i appreciate you being here with me but- today was supposed to be my day! my day! so can you please just sit here and behave? please?”

even in your drunken haze you can see that taehyung is upset with you and that’s enough to sober you up a little bit

you didn’t mean to upset him :-(

you were just trying to do this wine tasting thing right!!!!! and you weRe technically tasting the wine.,. just maybe a little too much of it.,,.

you nod slowly and reach up to zip your mouth shut

“good. the water dispenser is right there, so stay hydrated.” he gets up off the ground and dusts his knees off, “and we can order a pizza after this is over, okay?”

you nod again and offer him a meek little smile

you spend the next twenty minutes staring at the wall in silence

occasionally you looked around to see if anything besides nothING was happening

you did get up once to get yourself a little paper cone of water

and then you put the cone on the top of your head like a little party hat

but theN you realised that putting a white paper cone on top of your head was just you giving yourself a dunce cap which… was actually pretty fitting in this situation

at the twenty-eight minute mark the door opens quietly and you immediately perk up because you automatically assume it’s tae

“it’s y/n, right?”

“oh, uh-“ your eyes widen as hoseok slides down the wall to plop himself down right next to you “yes? yeah. i’m- yes, i’m y/n.”

“i noticed you were a fan of the dark chocolate covered cashews, so-“ he holds out a little napkin filled with the cashews before handing it over to you, “everyone in there is currently mingling with each other, so i figured i’d come out here and keep you company.”

you blink owlishly

he’s being pretty friendly considering the fact that the two of you are complete strangers

almost too friendly

…you like that :-)

because you totally like being overly-friendly with strangers too!!!!

in fact, that’s how you and tae became friends!!

but enough about tae because heLLo attractive young man sitting right next to you-

“ah, well, i’ve been staring at that patchy blotch of paint on the wall for-“ you pause to check the time on your phone, “coming up to be twenty-five minutes now, so you’re not missing out on that much.” you murmur as you unwrap the napkin and pick up a cashew before popping it into your mouth

“i, um, actually…” hoseok trails off before laughing lightly, “i wanted to come out here to talk to you about earlier-“

“oh, god. you don’t have to say anything, i know i was acting insane-“ you shake your head before snorting, “trust me, you won’T be seeing me again after the event ends-“

“but i do want to see you again.”

you freeze for a second before turning to look at him

you wait for another second to go by juSt to make sure he’s not playing around with you

“…say that again?”

“i mean… i thought you were hilarious!” he grins, “i know the alcohol was definitely a contributing factor, but i took a glance at your information sheet and-“ he pauses to pull the folded up piece of paper out of his shirt pocket, “-i don’t think i’ve ever heard anyone describe the aftertaste of a sémillon like: ‘you know lemon-scented febreze? now imagine what it’d taste like if you mixed sprayed lemon-scented febreze into a glass of bleach, because that’s what this tastes like’.” hoseok looks over at you with wide eyes, “you made this wine-tasting session way more fun than i thought it was going to be!!”

huh!

what a pleasant surprise!!!

cute boy thinks you’re funny!!!!!!

“i’m glad to hear that me humiliating myself was entertaining for you!” you joke before rolling your eyes playfully,“the only reason why i’m here is because my friend is a self-proclaimed wine snob.”

“oh, please. everyone here is a self-proclaimed wine snob.” hoseok rolls his eyes playfully, “no offence to your friend, of course.”

“oh, no. all the offence, please.” you snort and pick up another cashew, “he kicked me out to punish me but i didn’t even wanna be in there in the first place so this is actually super great.”

“ooh, i think i just felt my heart split in half…” hoseok winces dramatically as he presses a hand to his chest

you can’t help but giggle before you look away nervously

now that you’re not drunk off your ass, you feel the butterflies returning to your tummy

you barely know this guy but you’re pretty sure you’re already 500% in love with him

…what wine is he going to pick out at your guys’ wedding?

oOp

okay time to reel it in a little

“-i know this might seem a little out of the blue, but… would you wanna go out for drinks sometime… with- with me…?” hoseok clears his throat

wait what

you look back at hoseok so quickly that your head probably could’ve popped off your neck

he glances away before letting out a nervous chuckle, “i just… yeah, can i take you out?”

your eyes widen slightly

oh!!

you certainly weren’t expecting for him to ask you out but you’re definitely not complaining

“feel free to say no, i just- ah, i don’t know, i don’t usually get a lot of people my age coming to these things, and i feel like you-“

“i’d love to go out for drinks sometime… definitely with you.“ you tease as you nudge his arm gently

hoseok’s cheeks flush before he beams at you

“great! i know a place that makes really good cocktails- say, do you like margaritas?”

your lips part in a gawk

“do i like- do you wanna get married??” you scoff as you sit up straight, “i love margaritas!”

“great! i promise i won’t make you drink anything that tastes like-“ hoseok pauses to look at your sheet again, “‘mouldy grapes after they’ve been trampled on by someone with athlete’s foot’…?”

you flash him a sheepish smile

yeah

you don’t think you’re ever going to be a wine person.

help me help you make your wishes come tru (aka send me a request)

requested drabbles masterlist

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hiatuswhore · 4 years

Text

Mainlander

Out of all the glitz and glam that came with your family’s wealth there was always one event you went to annually that you were excited for. Since a baby, your family had been attending the Midsummer Party. This event brought all the wealthy families that owned property on the expensive side of the island together. It was not exactly the event itself you were excited about but the boy with the funny name you had seen every year since you were a girl there. While your parents rub elbows with other pretentious people you would explore with the fisherman’s son, Pope. This was the only time the two of you would interact as when the night was over you would return to your kook life and him back to the pogues. Walking through the party you could see him standing with his dad, his back was facing the area you were.

“(Y/n)? My have you grown,” Looking over Ward Cameron was stopping you in your tracks as he smiled. Offering a kind smile, you had mastered how to make it reach your eyes so it was believable.

“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Cameron,” You greeted, shaking both their hands hoping it would be a quick hello in passing.

“Please call me Ward. You remember Sarah, Louisa, and Rafe right?” Ward asked, signaling both his children over. Fighting the urge to roll your eyes as they strolled over you had no interest in any of them. Sarah was out of touch with real-world issues and Rafe had the tendency to be a prick constantly. Louisa just being a child you could only assume she’d follow in the rest of her families footsteps.

“Of course I do,” You said smiling at them Rafe’s eyes traveled down your body slowly. Not only did it feel invading but somewhat predatory, Sarah offered a kind smile as well but as she looked around it was apparent she was distracted.

“Nice dress,” Rafe said, taking your hand he brought the back of it to his lips. Fighting the urge to rip your hand away you only smiled explaining your mother had it made for you. It was not too over the top but the beige silk complimented your skin perfectly. While everyone wore long gowns your dress reached a reasonable and yet still questionable length. Leaving a lot and a little to one’s imagination. Your father was not the biggest fan of the vexing dress, mellowing them out with nude scandals there was little to nothing really done with your hair. Leaving it natural you looked beautiful. Showing no care to being flashy or done up for others. Excusing yourself Pope still had yet to turn around and his father had walked off somewhere. Pressing yourself to his back you poked your finger into his side imitating a gun.

“Listen closely Islander I need information on a Pope Heyward. One wrong move and I’ll have to kill you,” You whispered and at first you felt him tense but as you spoke you could feel his entire body relax.

“Easy Mainlander I’ll tell you whatever you want to know but I ask for one thing in return,” He said, playing into your on-spot concocted fantasy just like you would both do as children.

“What might that be?” You asked jokingly stepping back as you holstered your ‘weapon.’

“A hug,” Pope said turning around seeing you standing there a quiet gasp left his lips. Every year it felt like he was seeing you for the very first time. Each time more beautiful than the last.

“I think I can arrange that,” You joked, pulling him into a hug and the two of you laughed as you embraced each other. Back on the mainland most of your friends assumed the Islander named Pope that you were infatuated with was not real. This was always the best part of the summer for you.

“You look amazing like always,” Pope complimented, smiling sheepishly a grin crept onto your face.

“Still super smart I see,” You joked, jokingly pressing a hand to his chest in shock you rolled your eyes as your giggled.

“Was there ever a doubt?” He asked, shaking your head you were sure Pope was the smartest guy your age you had met. You attend Phillips Academy in Massachusetts, one of the best private schools in the country. Asking him what was new he explained his scholarship interview coming up.

“You know my Mom could write you a recommendation letter. She has a lot of notoriety just in case you’re nervous.” You offered but you knew he would decline the offer. Talking for another few minutes as you were pulled away from Pope by your parents you had to smile and pretend to care about the other guests. Excusing yourself to the bathroom on your way there you slammed into a blonde boy in a hurry, more so he slammed into you.

“I’m so sorry are you okay?” He asked, looking past you quickly he looked panicked as he helped you up.

“Are you okay?” You asked looking in the direction he kept watching as Rafe Cameron and his idiot friends came into view you quickly realized what was happening, “Go that way those doors will lead you back to the party.”

“Than—” He began but you quickly pushed him toward the doors as Rafe’s eyes landed on you.

“Rafe, Topper, boys,” You said, dusting yourself off from the fall they were all watching you carefully.

“You see a blonde guy run through here? Dressed like waiter and has couple bruises?” Topper asked, hating yourself for what you had to do next it was the only way to convince them you were telling the truth.

“Ugh yeah, that idiot ran into me and then kept running toward the bathrooms. I’m getting security what is wrong with these people,” You scoffed, imitating most of your peers as well as you could.

“Don’t worry about that (Y/n) we’ll handle him from here okay,” Rafe said, brushing his hands against your own. Wanting to gag you kept it to yourself as you smiled at his flirtation. Walking toward the ladies’ restroom there you took a moment to check your phone. There were only Instagram notifications and a few snaps from friends at school. All on lavish vacation the destinations varied but the poses for pictures did not.

Rejoining the party as you stepped outside Rafe and the guys were back outside, so was the guy who had run into you. Only this time he was with accompanied a security guard.

“Look man I can walk myself I got legs,” the boy said, drawing attention from the guests of the party the boy was becoming the main attraction. As he walked past you he smiled holding his hand up for a high five and you returned it, “Thanks for the save beautiful. You look amazing.”

“Alright move it,” The security guard said, pushing the problematic boy ahead before you could even get a word out.

“I really appreciate what you did back there also Mr. Security guard sir—let me just walk out. Oh Mr. Dunleavy I see you got your drink. Good, that’s really nice of you I’m actually gonna down that,” The boy said taking Mr. Dunleavy’s drink he through it back without issue. Walking over to your parents as you heard them mumbling complaints about the boy you found him rather entertaining, “Whoo! I really appreciate the discretion Daryl, you know? It’s okay, everybody! Do not panic. Leave it to the men and women in uniform, huh! Let’s hear it for them. Rose! You look like Lady Liberty. It’s good to see you again.”

Watching him slowly being dragged out of the party you wanted to help him but you knew nothing of him. You didn’t even know his name.

“Let go of him! You can’t just boot him!” Looking over Kiara Carrera was yelling from the porch. You knew of her but the two of you never really interacted despite your parents and hers both being in the same social circles. As children, you would play but beyond that, the two of you were practically strangers to the other, “I invited him here. I’m a member of this club.”

As her parents tried to stop her everything soon spiraled out of control. While the security guard was distracted the boy used it as his opportunity to push the man away from him.

“Oh sorry about that. Hey, mandatory power hour at Rixon’s, Kie. Pope you as well right?” As the boy addressed Pope you looked over realizing these were his friends. Despite the commotion watching them a small smile was fighting to break the surface of your face, “Rixon’s Cove. Let’s roll. All right Kie come on. Workers of the world unite. Throw off your chains!”

Despite the boys’ recklessness, his words were oddly inspiring, you were not a part of the workers of the world but there were chains you wished to free yourself from. Looking at Pope he was watching Kiara with hesitation. She was first to walk from her parents and began running through the party. Pope followed suite as his father was shaking his head, he removed his apron. Scanning the room as his eyes landed on you, you could see he was inviting you. Watching as Kiara ran into the blonde boys’ arms and Pope embraced another dark-haired boy there was a big part of you that wanted to go with them. Pope looked back one more time watching you as he ignored his father’s yelling. Slowly lifting your foot taking your scandals into your hand one shoe at a time Pope smiled holding out his hand. Your parents followed Pope’s gaze onto you but before they could try to stop you it was too late. Running over taking Pope’s hand you giggled as the two of you ran after his friends into the part of the island not well lit.

The rush of adrenaline coming to an end as you all finally came to a halt you felt a bit awkward as you were surrounded by unfamiliar people. As the blonde boy started a fire and the brown-haired boy pulled out some beers while you stayed at Pope’s side. The silence made it apparent they had wanted to discuss something just between them. As the silence continued a knot twisted in your belly.

“I’m sorry for intruding I just—uh wanted to throw off the chains like he said,” You said, breaking the silence and they were all unsure of what to say. The fire reflecting off of your face looked beautiful as your earrings sparkled from the moonlight.

“Guys this is (Y/n). (Y/n) this is Kiara, JJ and John B,” Pope introduced, smiling at them they all looked puzzled. Watching all of them Kiara was the first to go from puzzled to shocked.

“Oh my god, you’re Mainlander. How have I never connected those dots!” Kiara explained, making relief wash over you.

“You talk about me?” You muttered to Pope with a smile as he sheepishly stumbled over his words.

“All the time and I quote the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen,” John B said, earning a nudge from Pope but they were relentless.

“Well, we’ve heard great things about you Mainlander. Not only are you a beauty and kook but you saved me from Rafe and those idiots. So if we pogues are all in agreement I JJ Maybank representing the pogue delegation doth you honorary pogue,” Touching your left shoulder and then your right.

Clearing your throat preparing your best British accent you stood up in front of JJ, “Why thank you, kind sir. I am honored but before I accept this first I want to express my utmost gratitude.”

“Alright Pope she’s a keeper,” JJ said laughing at your response, sitting back down you all drank and enjoyed the campfire. It would have been nice for the night to last forever. As everyone went into separate side conversations you nudged Pope signaling him to take a walk with you.

“I like your friends they’re very,” Pausing for a second trying to find the right word for his fun but peculiar friends, “Eccentric.”

“Yeah, they’re something,” Pope said walking the shoreline as the water reached your feet you jumped.

“Tonight has been fun,” You said, stopping as you looked at him, you wanted him to kiss you.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Pope said, avoiding your gaze for a few seconds as he finally looked at you. Staring at each other you leaned in a bit but stopped waiting for him to meet you the rest of the way but he didn’t.

“We should head back,” Pope said, nodding your head slowly you said nothing as you both walked back to the others. During the walk though as you were caught up in your head, Pope pulled you out of it as he interlaced his hand in your own.

Outer Banks Masterlist

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prorevenge · 4 years

Text

Better check your facts, because people KNOW people.

Had to post this one...it isn't petty, it isn't regular, and it ruined a guys journalistic career.

The internet has evolved quite a lot over the years. Some people may remember usenet groups, I know I do, used to have a lot of fun reading them. Kind of similar in a way to today's reddit in a way...no matter what the subject was, someone would have a usenet newsgroup for it. But unlike todays reddit, it was strictly text. You could download images, but they would take forever to download, and could often be across several different messages...just one of the messages missing, and you wouldn't get the image. Things then improved, download speeds slowly got faster, and then there was IRC that came about. IRC saw the same thing...there was chatroom for anything and everything...and if there wasn't, you could clearly create it. If you were to try to watch a video over the internet back then, it could take you a couple of hours to download a music video...you get the idea. This is important for the context of the story.

I was a writer on a couple of wrestling newsletters during the mid to late 90's. We only published our newsletters online...you could have it emailed to you, or go to a website to read it (think we hosted on geocities or tripod). Both wrestling newsletters were independent of each other, and I used different nicknames on each. One was more a review and preview newsletter, where we would post reviews of the most recent shows/events, talk about current feuds, and talk about what we may think will happen in the next big event.

The other newsletter, was a news and rumours newsletter, with a few fun puzzles/competitions thrown in to keep things interesting. At the time, you had a few big name wrestling news and rumours websites, and a handful of small ones...I was a writer on one of the small ones. Sometimes we would get news and rumours from the big name websites, giving them credit where appropriate. Sometimes, we would hear things from people in the business...everyone had their sources of information. And sometimes we would make an educated guess on possible scenarios, based on current trends in the industry. It did get a bit cut-throat at times, with some newsletters claiming that they broke the news first, when it had already been published in other newsletters first. And you would even have some newsletters devote all of their time trying to rubbish the other newsletters for publishing false and misleading information. It was rumours...we did not always get it right.

Through a couple of readers of my first wrestling newsletter, I learned of a huge surprise in the works for one organisation, which could potentially lead to something happening at a big event coming up. I won't mention the surprise, but it involved a person from another sport. No other wrestling newsletter had reported it, so I included it as a rumour on the second wrestling newsletter. I was instantly rubbished by one of the major wrestling newsletters at the time, publishing a clearly nonsense rumour that would never happen...only for that very same newsletter to publish the exact same rumour two or three days later, and claim to be the first ones to publish it. This sort of stuff happened all the time, it did not bother me at all.

Anyway, I happened to have a few wrestlers who actually read my first newsletter...no big names as such, but a couple of lesser known wrestlers in the big organisations. I knew who they were, but refused to reveal their identities back then, and refuse to reveal them now. One of them let me know of an unknown fact from a major match a couple of years earlier (it was to do with an injury that happened during a part of the match). This fact had never been published anywhere else at the time. I mentioned that I wrote for another wrestling newsletter, that dealt with news and rumours, and asked if I could repeat the information. The wrestler said sure, but not to credit him. So I go ahead and publish the rumour.

Straight away I had another of the smaller wrestling newsletters say that it was nonsense. They said that it was impossible for the match to have continued, had the injury happened. They then started a smear campaign on the second newsletter, I was getting spam emails constantly, virus attempts originating from the competition, the competition even went so far as claiming that they had the full story of my wife of 10 years working as a hooker (don't ask, they were trying to find anything to smear me with). There was more sinister and disgusting stuff, but I won't write it here. Why it got so personal, I do not know, but the funny thing was that at the time, I was a 22 year old single university student, and if I had a wife of 10 years who was working as a hooker, I would have had to marry her when I was 12. But his smear campaign was working, our readership dropped by nearly 50%. It was time to get some revenge, although I had no idea just how far the revenge would end up reaching.

Firstly, I approached one of the bigger wrestling newsletters. They would often run ads at the bottom or rear of their newsletters, for "affiliated" newsletters. I organised a new affiliation with them, removing an affiliation they had with the competition. Small potatoes. I started promoting the second newsletter heavily on usenet, in some of the wrestling groups...which ultimately led to an increase in our email subscription base, greater than what it was before his smear campaign. This negated any effect that his smear campaign had...but I was hungry for more. I wanted to shove it where the sun don't shine, so I contacted those wrestlers who read my first newsletter. I explained the situation to them, and they were happy to help out. It took a couple of weeks, but eventually I was able to post a link to a 15 second video (hosted on a geocities webpage, as well as on a wrestling usenet group), where the wrestler at the centre of the injury rumour not only confirmed it, but gave a shoutout to my second newsletter. While it validated me and my information, it still didn't shut the other guy up.

Finally, a break. While the guy used an alias for his newsletter, he did actually mention his name a couple of times, and where in the US he attended university. Using this information, I was able to get a friend in the US to do some searching for me (attended that very same university), and discovered that the guy had actually completed a journalism degree several years earlier. Further research indicated that he was now working as a reporter for a regional newspaper in the US. His wrestling newsletter must just be a hobby. So I decided to send all of the information I had, his smear campaign etc, to the newspaper office. I don't know what, if anything, it would do...but it was worth a shot. About a month later, I got an email back from the newspaper, thanking me for the information. They discovered that he was using the newspaper's system to run the wrestling newsletter, which was against their policy, so they fired him. And because the newspaper was part of a chain of regional newspapers across the US, he was going to struggle to find another journalism job. The newsletter got shut down as well, because without the newspaper's system to run it, the guy had no way of continuing with the newsletter.

Side note...I ended up finishing with my newsletters not long after anyway. The first newsletter, as I was just a writer for it, I finished up with it when the owner of the newsletter decided to close it down (he didn't have the time to devote to it due to work commitments). The second one, I started off as just a writer/contributor, then took over their competitions, then eventually took over the whole newsletter (original owner didn't want to do it anymore). But in the end, I was finishing up at university, I had to move on with my career, so I closed it down.

(source) story by (/u/ZeroPenguinParty)

#prorevenge #by /u/ZeroPenguinParty #pro revenge #revenge stories #pro revenge stories #pro #revenge #last10

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bokettochild · 3 years

Note

How do you write endings? I have a lot of trouble with ending even just oneshots I write, and was hoping for some advice if you’re willing to give it?

Usually for endings I continue with the flow until I've included all the details/events that I wanted. For writing a one-shot, I look for a place where you can imagine a scene ending if it was a movie.

I'll use a couple of my fluffics as examples here.

(Under the cut because this came out longer than expected)

With the Tiny Adventure fic (Bunny Legend/Minish Four/Fairy Hyrule) I ended with a dramatic/funny moment/realization. Hyrule realizes that Twilight is Wolfie, and we cut off. It leaves the reader freedom to fill in what follows after, and gets their imagination going. They'll remember it that way when they think of similar concepts.

Ending with a realization or 'ah ha' moment can be fun, as long as it isn't a super dramatic one. If it's dramatic than make sure you are going to follow up with another piece or your readers might be left feeling unsatisfied because they don't have answers.

When writing the prompt about Little Wild/Zvezda and Dad Warriors, I ended on a dramatic point where I could imagine the screen clipping to black at the end of a dramatic moment. While I DID end with drama, it's okay for this story because it's a companion piece or prequel to a story where we get answer/some explanations. Without those, it would have been kinda unsatisfactory to never get answers, but it WOULD have been alright, since the characters don't get answers either.

In this case, if your characters don't get answers to a question, then cutting off at the end of something is okay because it saves you from having to write a reaction sequence that takes away from the drama but doesn't offer any new information to the reader.

I also used a frame for the story by repeating a phrase at the beginning and end "Link cried when he first saw his son for the first time/Link cried when he first saw his son for the first time, but when he lost him all of Hyrule heard the screams" (not an exact quote but oh well).

Find a phrase or sentence to start with and roll back to it in the end when it makes sense to do so, it gives a completed or satisfactory feeling to see it come around again.

Lastly, endings can come at the conclusion of events, or a turning point

For my Feathered AU prologue, I ended explaining about Legend's wings and the events surrounding them by leading into his canon adventures, which deserved their own chapters. This is a turning point in events and thus ending here works as a good transition.

At a conclusion of events (I'll make up an example) it would be a situation where we get a 'walk into the sunset' ending where the main plot of the fic is over so we get a 'fade-out' sequence. For example, having them have their final laugh, tear, and move on. The Chain wishing a farewell to someone they meet on the path and entering a portal would be a reasonable conclusion of the events of a story set in one Hyrule. Generally walking into the sunset or fading out of a final moment that you want to stay in your readers' mind works for me.

I hope that makes sense?

#idiot advises #asks and answers

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emptygoldstudio · 4 years

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PSYCHONAUTS 2 THEORIES ABOUT PSI CADETS

!ATTENTION!

All theories can be far-fetched due to the small amount of information. All the pictures (except for Lizzie's drawing) are taken from the Internet and I DO NOT own them (except, again, Lizzie's drawing) The post is not trying to offend anyone. These are just the thoughts of a dedicated psi fan. And of course beware of spoilers)

Post where i explained cadets named

Let's start

Norma

Name meaning

Norma is a female name. A single instance of the name Norma is recorded 1203, where it perhaps derives from the Latin word norma, meaning "precept".

More recently Norma has been used as a female equivalent of the name Norman, meaning "Norseman".

<...> the name of the Germanic mythological Norns.

As you go deeper, you can see the mention of Norns:

The Norns in Norse mythology are female beings who rule the destiny of gods and men.

<...> there are many others who appear at a person's birth in order to determine his or her future. In the pre-Christian Norse societies, Norns were thought to have visited newborn children.There were both malevolent and benevolent Norns: the former caused all the malevolent and tragic events in the world while the latter were kind and protective goddesses.

Perhaps this is the essence of Norma as a character: her own destiny will be in her own hands, but until a certain moment she will not believe in it ... Or it's just female equivalent of the name Norman. Who knows how hard Double Fine Productions tried to lay down a secret meaning and did it try at all?

Appearance

Norma looks quite fashionable - in a floral blouse and a brown skirt with a wide belt. Perhaps she will become the "black sheep" character type and be a little bitchy. At least that's how I see her now.

Lil’ funny thing - for me Norma looks like a Frisk from Undertale

Sam

Name meaning

Short for Samuel, from the Biblical name Shemu'el, which means "God has heard", from the Hebrew shama, meaning "heard" and el, meaning "God".

Hebrew is the state language of Israel.

Appearance

Sam has some pretty unique clothes. If we attribute it to religious clothing, then we can say that he can be either a Jew or a Muslim.

Personally, I am more inclined to think that his clothes are similar to Jewish, if you take several outfits and mix them together. The only detail that seems odd to me is the hat. It's not black, it's brown. Therefore, there is a small chance that this is Muslim clothing with an ordinary black jacket and hat on top.

Lizzie

Name meaning

Lizzie is a short form of the name Elizabeth... That’s it. This is all I’ve got.

Appearance

Many punks dye their hair in bright, unnatural colors, comb and fix it with varnish, brilliantine or gel so that it stands up.

Punks also wear various attributes of rocker subcultures: wristbands, bracelets (mostly leather, with spikes, rivets and chains, etc.), and often make them themselves. Many punks get tattoos.

Okay, listen to me. I'm not a professional when it comes to punk culture, but just look at it. Tattoos, badges, the general dark blue color scheme is maintained in clothes, various bracelets and belts, a huge earring, a jacket made of raven feathers(?). If it's not punk, then I don't know who (write your opinion in the comments).

There is one detail that has always confused me about Lizzie. Her hair. They always seem to stretch up. And while I was looking for information about punks, it dawned on me.

Iroquois!

Lizzie has a mohawk, but she pulled on a hat to hide it? Or it's just her style. I do not know. But what I know for sure is that now I will not be able to discern the fact that she has a mohawk.

Morris

Name meaning

Origin from British, Irish or Germanic

Appearance

He is dressed in a neat suit. He may have a wealthy background, which would explain his appearance. But the most interesting thing is his ability. Morris sits in what I would call a wheelchair that is levitated. I will assume that Morris is disabled and cannot walk, which makes levitation the only way to his comfortable existence (Or he is simply too lazy to walk, which is unlikely). From the light bounced off the Gisu, it can be assumed that the color of his levitation ball is yellow or some other light color.

He also has a small notch on his nose. I don't know what it is.

An interesting thing was shown in one of the latest video updates, where Raz and Morris are on the same mission and are chasing something that looks like an octopus. Raz is currently jumping on platforms floating in the air. They are translucent and I will just assume that they are one of Morris's main abilities. In that case, considering how the colors are arranged in the Raz Levitation Ball, I would say that Morris has a yellow levitation ball with a blue border.

Gisu

Name meaning

A submission from California, U.S. says the name Gisu means "Tress, curl, or long hair of a woman" and is of Persian / Iranian origin.

A submission from Virginia, U.S. says the name Gisu means "Gift of god" and is of Indian (Sanskrit) origin.

Appearance

As a result, we have leads for three countries. If you look at the modern clothes of each country and compare them with what Gisu is wearing, it turns out that Iranian clothes look very similar.

I studied the issue as much as I could. Indeed, what covers her shoulders and head looks like a shawl or rusari. Therefore, I declare with full confidence that Gisu is from Iran.

Also, her hair matches the description of one of the meanings of the name:

"Tress, curl, or long hair of a woman"

In her hands you can see something like a skateboard. Maybe it's just a board that she uses like a hoverboard by using levitation.

Cassie

Name meaning

Cassandra means “to excel”, “to shine” and "prophetess".

In Greek Baby Names the meaning of the name Cassie is: Purity; unheeded prophetess.

Appearance

At the moment, Cassie is my favorite character, but also quite mysterious. In case you haven't noticed, in the last updates we were shown exactly her, and not other psi-cadets. And as you know, a regular character will not get as much attention as a key character. It is Cassie who comes out ahead of all the cadets in the scene from the trailer, and she is the focus of the scene.

Many have already guessed that the level made from the books is Cassie's consciousness. It is quite obvious - an abstruse looking girl with glasses, probably likes to read. And there are no other candidates for the role of the owner of the book consciousness yet. But it is about this level that the creators in one of the videos will say that everything was going to this, it is here that the words will sound:

But here's what put me on my guard, these words:

This means that they wanted at least one character to have purple skin. Now let's remember a key character with purple skin, almond-shaped eyes, dark hair, a triangular head, whose cheeks could become sunken over a long life; a character strong enough for his descendants to become some of the best and strongest to be able to become cadets at the Psychonauts' headquarters...

The answer is one

Maligula

Even without considering the weirdness of the game's style, you can see that Cassie and Maligula are quite similar. Just paint Maligula cheeks and you're done. And this gives more room for thought. If Cassie is a descendant of Maligula, what can she do at headquarters? She went there of her own free will, wanting to advance beyond the fortuneteller, which her family never did, or she is part of Galochio's conspiracy, because who will suspect a cadet teenage girl. Is she the mole that Raz is looking for? If that's the case, it's brilliant to hide out in the open.

Therefore, I believe that her ability is hydrokinesis, which is inherited. But because of the beanie and scarf, I'll assume that her ability could have evolved into cryokinesis - the ability to manipulate ice (at least I want to belive in this)

What do you think about all these theories about psi cadets? I would be interested to read.

#psychonauts #psychonauts 2 #psychonauts 2 theory #pn2 spoilers #Psychonauts Theory #psychonauts 2 spoilers #psi cadets #emptygoldstudio #i lost 9 hours on this #please!!!#read this #i really tried #and i am really tired #<;^/

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