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#was away on vacation then had a visitor for a week
gerrycoco · 2 years
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Me: ok lets try getting a good night’s sleep 
My brain: 
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wordsinhaled · 2 years
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more domestic vacation 'verse because it's apparently all i can think about now
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It has been... good, being here. Quieter. Easier. The clamor of billions of visitors to the Dreaming is muffled, in Hob's flat. The things that dream here are calm things. Thriving things. Old and cherished things.
Loved things.
Here, Morpheus too has felt like something that could perhaps be loved.
In the mornings, after Hob has left for work, Morpheus draws himself soundlessly up from the bed and pads on bare feet to the record rack that stands overfull with vinyls in the corner of Hob's living room. He touches each record there carefully, the faint visions of musicians and composers flitting ephemeral beneath his fingertips. He selects his musical accompaniment for the day by intuition alone.
This morning, he finds a little yellow note stuck to Hob's copy of The Cure's Disintegration:
"You'll like this one. Promise. —H"
Morpheus listens to it five times through in its entirety with a cathartic sort of anguish. Afterwards he perches on the couch wrapped up in the blanket Hob has slept beneath each night these two weeks. The cedar and vanilla notes in Hob's soap still linger in the fabric, like traces of an embrace Hob Gadling has never given him.
He has especially enjoyed sitting on the floor by the window in the warmest patch of sun, holding court with Hob's houseplants. A marble queen pothos hangs there, suspended near the ceiling, its cascading vines of happy heart-shaped leaves long enough to trail down around Morpheus' shoulders. A row of succulents and a purplish-red bromeliad in a brightly enameled pot live lined up on the sill.
Morpheus gathers them all in his awareness, greets their leaves gently with the backs of his knuckles, speaks to them the way he speaks to all growing things. They whisper their daydreams to him in return, telling him tales of jungle and desert, and of the loving voice that sings songs to them each time they are watered.
Morpheus wonders what Hob Gadling sings, what he hums under his breath.
I would be sung to thus, he thinks. But would you sing to me, my friend?
He sits for long hours in the companionable silence. Lulled by the rhythm of verdant stories, he relishes the sun-warmth banking in the soft black cotton of his shirt, and feels some unnamed tension deep within himself begin to unravel.
Morpheus had not expected this from his stay with Hob. This comfort. This easiness between them.
How it has sunk into him and become something he could, in some version of the universe, come to require.
So, when on the eve of his fourteenth day Hob says, "I don't want you to go," Morpheus is surprised to find that the wistful note Hob cannot quite keep out of his voice finds a sympathetic echo in his own thoughts.
"I—" Morpheus begins.
It is rare that he does not find the ending of a sentence already laid out for him. Yet what is its proper conclusion? I also do not wish to go away from you is futile. An impossibility. He has a kingdom. A realm. A responsibility.
"You feel it too," Hob says. "Don't you?"
Morpheus does not need to breathe in the waking world. He does not need a heartbeat. These are paltry mortal necessities; mortal vulnerabilities. And yet he knows, suddenly, the kick of the heart against the ribs and the catch of a gasp in the lungs of his recalcitrant body. It pinions him to the moment.
"Hob," he manages to say. For a brief second, he is unmade and remade again by the hope in Hob Gadling's face.
"Dream. My dearest friend. I've been wrong before." Hob's eyes are wide and earnest. His voice is honey-soft and strong. He is wiser than Morpheus can aspire to be. "If I'm wrong about this, tell me, please."
"You were not wrong before," Morpheus says. "And you are not wrong now."
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munsonluhvr · 17 days
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♡ august | steve harrington x reader (summer fling) (record player series #3) word count - 1.9k
author's note: sorry for the delay in finishing out this little project. back to writing I go!
August. 
The air between you and Steve is bittersweet; all at once, your heart is heavy with sadness, yet peaceful and warm sitting beside him. You lean into Steve, your body crumpling against the strength of his arm that is placed around you. With ease, he lifts his hand up, his palm grazing the back of your head in a gentle, comforting stroke. You look forward, the rough sea stretching out for miles in front of you;  you dig your feet into the sand, the gritty, cool feeling overwhelming your toes. 
“I can come back,” Steve says, sensing the dissatisfaction that radiates off of you. “Maybe over winter break, and we can write letters to each other in the meantime.” Steve searches for anything to say, anything within him to make you happy, to put the smile he loves so much back on your face. 
At the mere suggestion of having to wait several months just to catch a glimpse of him again, to write letters to pass the time and close the distance between you, makes tears begin to collect in your eyes. You make a poor attempt to sniff them away quietly. “I’ll miss you too much,” you say, your voice cracking. 
You and Steve had been tied to the hip since the beginning of the summer. It had been fate that you two met, just two people in a crowd on the beach. Steve had been on vacation with his parents, a tourist in the little beachside community you call home. It’s nothing new to you to see visitors that catch your eye, only to stay for a few days or weeks and then return back to their own home. For that exact reason, you made sure you would never become intertwined with a tourist, someone who will leave in a matter of time. But Steve was different. 
End of May. It had been a warm summer evening, the sun setting minutes before. Nonetheless, the boardwalk was crowded, the action showing no signs of slowing down. Though the ocean was only a few feet away, the scent of the saltwater thickening the air, there was a dense smell of cotton candy, the distinct scent of boardwalk food that could only make your mouth water. 
Minutes before you had said farewell to your friends, separating for the first time that day. You and a group of your friends spent the day on the beach, letting the sun drench your skin and tan it just right. Now, however, you were tired, your eyes threatening to close on you as you made your way through the crowded street. 
Your bag that was looped over your shoulder weighed down heavily, your towel spilling out the top of the bag. You sighed pathetically, shrugging your bag back up onto your sunburnt shoulder; you wince from the friction between your skin and the handle of your bag. You look down at the ground, getting peaks of peoples bare feet and shoes shuffling passed you in all different directions. You’re so caught up in your thoughts, caught up in the way your body is exhausted, that you don’t notice a brown-haired boy coming your direction. 
In an instant, you’re tossed to the side, landing with a thud on the ground. Your sandals, beach towel, and sunscreen scramble out of your bag and onto the sidewalk, each object getting kicked into different directions by people who are too oblivious to notice you sail to the ground. 
“Holy shit-“ a voice says somewhere above you, though you’re too caught up in the sharp feeling coming from your knee to see who curses in your direction. Drips of blood dribble from your knee and you sigh once more. “I am so sorry, I wasn’t looking.” 
You wipe the blood from your knee with the heel of your hand, shaking your head without looking up. “It’s fine, I’m fine.” It’s only when the boy kneels in front of you do you look at him, catching sight of his big, brown eyes and his messy brown hair, laced with salt from the ocean. His skin is lightly tanned, the smell of sunshine and sunscreen radiating off of him.  
He shakes his head. “And you’re bleeding. Let me at least help you find a Band-Aid.” You’re exhausted, annoyed, and now in slight pain, and you relinquish control over the situation and let the nameless boy help you up by his outstretched hand. You reach out, his hand clasping around yours. You’re pulled back onto your feet, and you make an attempt to brush off debris from your clothes. You mutter a soft ‘thanks’ and begin to finish crossing the street, the boy trailing a few steps behind you.
Replaying the fall in your mind as you walk, the light heat from embarrassment creeps across your cheeks. There’s a light sting coming from your knee, and you wonder where you’ll find a band-aid. Your eyes graze the front of the shops that line the beach, all filled with people buying food or sweatshirts with the name of the beach branded across the chest. You sigh softly to yourself, glancing at the stream of blood that dribbles down your shin. 
“Here,” you hear a voice say beside you, and you turn to see it’s the same boy. He’s holding a white slip of paper, clearly a band-aid. “Let me help,” he says before you can object. He kneels in front of you, peeling back the paper and placing the band-aid on your split skin. In the process, he wipes the blood with a paper towel he holds in his other hand. 
“Where’d you find a band-aid?” You ask, trying to break the silence. 
He stands up, shrugging. “I just asked the lady behind the counter. I’m Steve by the way.”
You offer a small smile, his kind gesture beginning to make your hostility slip away. You look up from looking at your knee to look at his face again. “I’m y/n.”  
At the time, you never thought at how heartbreaking a summer romance could be. In every novel you’ve read, it’s warm and soothing, something you crave for yourself – someone to see and understand you so deeply, even if it’s temporary. Now that you’ve experienced this, you know the books make it seem like something it’s not. 
After Steve put the band-aid on you, you didn’t say thank you and continue on with your night. You stood there, as if your feet were glued to the sidewalk. You held Steve’s eye-contact, the world around you seeming like it slowed to a halt. You didn’t even notice people had to maneuver around you as they walked along the boardwalk. You were in a trance, immediately smitten by Steve. 
“Are you visiting?” Steve asks.  
You shake your head. “No, I live here. Are you?” 
Steve nods, running a hand through his hair. “Yes, but for the whole summer. My grandmother has a house here.” 
You nod slowly, knowing there was no chance a good-looking guy like Steve would live in your town. “Nice.” 
Steve chews on his bottom lip, thinking of something else to say. Little do you know, Steve’s heart thumps rapidly against his chest, being in your presence proving to be intimidating. He thinks you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen, his eyes glued to your face and body. “Yeah, I don’t really know anybody here though.” 
You shrug, trying to be nonchalant. “It’s easy to make friends.”
“Would you want to be friends then?” As Steve says this, he realizes how juvenile it sounds and he knows he’ll beat himself up for saying that later. 
You laugh, folding your arms across your chest. “Sure, I’ll be your friend.” 
From there, you and Steve were inseparable. It was a slow burn at first, the tension between you growing over time. You both knew it was there, but who was going to acknowledge it first was the question. 
You and Steve spent nearly every day together, meeting up at the beach, the pier, and eventually, at each other’s houses. It was easy to spend time with Steve, his charisma and sense of humor keeping you on the tip of your toes, his kindness, and flirtatious ways roping you in further and further. You found yourself laying on your bed into the early morning, replaying the time spent with Steve over in your head. Despite enjoying your time with Steve, you dreaded every day that passed by, an internal countdown clock until the end of summer and when Steve would return to Indiana playing in the back of your mind. 
Months into hanging out with Steve, you sit on the edge of the pier, feet dangling off the side, arms placed behind you to prop you up. It was July 4th, and you had managed to find the best spot to watch the fireworks. When Steve had sat down, he made sure to sit close beside you, leaving your thighs and swinging feet to brush against each other.  You chat with each other, waiting for the firework show to start. You both jolt, laughing softly, when the fireworks begin out of nowhere. While the fireworks were bright and beautiful, Steve couldn’t help but watch you instead. He watches as the colored fireworks reflect of your face, your face watching intently, a small smile decorating your face. His stomach twists with anticipation. 
You look over to your right, seeing Steve’s eyes trained on you. You smile, a little laughing escaping your lips. “What?” 
It’s then that Steve leans forward, his large hand cupping the side of your face. His lips are warm and soft, entangling with yours. You lean forward too, letting your mouth move against his. You sigh happily, all your dreams coming true. His lips taste lightly of red wine, knowing he must have had some over dinner with his parents. Though the fireworks echo off the ocean, the world is silent to you. 
Thinking about this moment now, nearly two months later when Steve is leaving for Indiana the next day, your heart aches. Where had the time gone? 
Standing on the beach with Steve, tears in your eyes, your heart pangs with sadness. You glance up at Steve. He breaks his glance at the beach to look down at you. He offers you a small,  half-smile, letting his fingertips guide strands of your hair away from your face. He pulls you into his chest, wrapping his strong arms around you. “In the beginning,” Steve begins to say, resting his chin softly on your head. “I thought you weren’t mine to lose, that this was just for the summer. But now, saying good-bye to you feels like the greatest loss.” 
You clench your jaw, wishing all your emotions away. You can’t think of anything to say. 
“-But I want to make this work. When you think about it, Indiana isn’t that far away. Throw some weekends trips in there, winter break will come in no time, and I can be here for a month.” You smile thinking about that, but it seems so far away.
Steve notices your mind drifting away. He turns towards you, loosening his arms around you to cup your face between your hands. “Hey,” Steve says, leaning his forehead onto yours. The tip of his nose brushes yours, your eyes staring into his. “We will make this work, okay?” 
You hesitate, and Steve wiggles you. “Okay?” he repeats. You can't help but smile at Steve showcasing his commitment, the feeling of anticipation of missing someone you've spent everyday with for the last few months and hope for the future beginning to fill you up.
You laugh, nodding. “Okay.” 
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loveandleases · 3 months
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(Happy Valentine's Day~ I hope everyone has a good day be that alone or with someone. Thought I would do a nice little snippet of one of the Valentine's Day of MC's past. It's a bit long but either way hope you enjoy.) Shifting around in your desk chair, you reach a hand out to graze along the soft petals of roses sitting on your desk. It had been the third set of flowers that came for you today. The first were in your chair when you arrived this morning, the second set waiting for you in your locker in the break room. The third set, the ones you’re currently admiring, were waiting for you when you got out of your meeting.
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You had to admit, they were quite beautiful. Each dozen a different color than the one prior. The first a soft yellow, with a card wishing you a good morning. The second a nice orange, another card with well wishes for the day. This set, a nice lavender shade, though the card had yet to arrive.
A soft smile on your face, that is until you feel hands cover your eyes. Your body stiffens, wondering if it’s the sender of what is getting to be your little flower garden. Then slowly your senses begin to adjust allowing you to pick up a familiar scent. A scent you’ve grown familiar with. Warm vanilla. Making it easy for you to put a face to the voice that then whispers into your ear.
 “If it isn’t the second most popular person in the office.”
 Reaching up you grab her soft delicate hands and move them down, finally opening your eyes. “Were you that bored without me here, Kara?” 
 She scoffs, before looking down into your eyes. Furrowing her brows, an expression that doesn’t suit her delicate features at all. You watch as her gaze drifts , realizing then that you’re still holding her hands.
Pursing her lips Kara yanks them away, almost as if the simple contact burnt her. Her cheeks slightly redder than they were before. Must be the heat, at least that’s what you thought.
“I was getting tired of picking up all the slack. Do you know how many nights I had to stay late? I thought you were supposed to be back last Friday?” 
 It’s hard not to grin at her, as she folds her arm and gives you a very forced pout. Kara was never one to stay late at the office, unless you were involved.
“Sorry, flight got delayed. By that point Keegan just gave me the rest of the weekend off. Has it been busy?”
 “No more than usual, that’s not the point. I’m going to visit my parents this week. I was hoping I would see your before I leave. I can’t leave in good conscience without knowing the second best office worker is here.” 
 She starts to fiddle with her bracelet, her fingers grazing along the little rose charm. 
 “Those are some really big words Ms. Clarke. Some would say you’re vying for my spot.”
She shakes her head, looking around the office with its fluorescent lighting and stark white walls. Then to the flowers that adorn your desk. The most colorful thing in such a dull space, well aside from you. “I hope you like them.”
 Your gaze follows hers, and nod without a second thought. “How could I not? Beautiful aren’t they?” 
 You don’t hear the sigh she lets out, or see the smile she sends your way, as you grab a stack of papers to take into the copying room. Kara follows suit, mentioning the recent visitors to the office, the amount of filing she had to do all by her lonesome. Some would say Kara could be dramatic, especially in her retelling of stories. Though you had to admit that was something you always enjoyed about her.
 “So, did anything happen?”
 “When?” You begin pressing along the screen of the copying machine, content when it actually works. Whirring as it begins to cycle through the papers, and print them out.
“On your vacation.” Kara flips through the extra sheets of paper on the counter top. Little did you know, the only thing she was paying attention to was you. Not the corrections on the files, the whirring of the machine or the warmth of the room.
The only thing she was focused on was the way your eyes crinkle as you smile at her. The way your fingers tap along the screen of the machine, ensuring it prints just enough. The levels of the ink to your liking. The way you rubbed the side of your neck, still trying to fight the stiffness from sitting at your desk for so long.
Shaking your head, leaning a hip against the counter as the papers continue to print, you look at her. Unsure of what shes thinking when she looks at you.
“Nothing out of the ordinary, why?”
She swallows, licking her full lips before grinning at you. “I thought Chris would have asked…”
 Her voice cracks, she then begins to cough. To cover what she almost let slip.
“Ask wha-”
 “If you wanted to have lunch before I go back home over the weekend. It’s no big deal. Don’t worry about it. I guess you two were just too busy.” She winks at you grabbing the copies before you could manage. Nice save Kara. 
“Come on, if we were busy doing...that, why would I tell you?”
 Kara rolls her eyes, walking backwards out of the office.
 “Kara wai-”
 “Ouch!”
 You can’t help but stifle a laugh, as Kara turns to see who she ran into. Ignoring the papers that had fallen out of her hands and now litter the floor. “Chris?” 
 “Hey sis. Really need to watch where you’re going. What if I got hurt? What would you do without me around to save you?” 
 Kara was about to retort, when she noticed a bouquet of white roses in Chris’s hands. “Where did you-”
 “Wait, more flowers? Chris you shouldn’t have. I told you I wasn’t mad about you not coming on the vacation with me.”
Chris side steps Kara and leans in to kiss your cheek.
Kara glances to Chris, then to you holding the flowers so dearly, admiring the beauty of the soft white petals. She folds her arms across her chest and leans against the door frame. “Mom would be proud.” Kara simply says, though part of her realizes it’s said with some contempt. The reason behind that can be thought of on another day.
 “Let me go put these in water and we can go for lunch.”
 Chris walks towards Kara, leaning against the wall watching MC as they walk happily to place the flowers with the other three bouquets.
“Really beautiful flowers. I honestly had no idea it was even Valentines Day I was just coming to ask them for lunch.” They smile to themselves, pleased with their good luck. Not only did they forget it was Valentine’s Day but in MC’s eyes Chris was more thoughtful than ever. The bouquets were not only a sign of a happy day, but also of an apology for not going on the vacation for the weekend. Yeah no dog house for them. 
 “How did you get them?” Kara asks, her eyes scanning Chris.
“Ran into Isaac outside. Said they had a delivery, I asked who for. Imagine my surprise when they said MC. Bet I can guess who they’re from.” Chris turns to Kara, a smug expression on their face. They don’t bother to hide their disgust when the name falls from their lips. Cam. “Cameron.” Chris clicked their tongue.
She doesn’t bother to correct Chris. Even if she did try Chris wouldn’t believe her. They always seem to think the worst of Cam. Regardless of what anyone else says. Chris had always been jealous of their relationship. So much so that it seemed they never considered that someone else may feel something for MC.
She doesn't bother to hide the look on her face when she sees Chris lead MC out of the office, or the feeling inside her gut. One she isn’t quite familiar with, one she isn’t willing to admit.
 Kara takes the card out of her pocket and throws it into the bin. The handwritten words to be forgotten, not to see the light of day. Not to sit along the other handwritten cards she so painstakingly filled out earlier in the day. Along with the flowers she had chosen. 
A card that simply reads, Happy Valentines Day. With Love, Kara.
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weixuldo · 10 months
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Allow me// ch 8
Vader x Reader
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a/n: so sorry for the wait on this chapter- ive been on vacation this past week oops! But never the less, HERE IT IS!! hehe just a reminder, Vader has become more vulnerable with his emotions in his older age (just as he began to open up to luke in rotj) so if he seems too “kind” or “emotional”, that’s why. I hope that doesn’t ruin him for u :( but trust- he will have some iconic Vader moments later on in the series....
You get a strange visitor looking for some comfort. 
warnings: cursing, anxiety, self hatred/loathing, cannon disabled character, emotional vulnerability
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Your admission to Lord Vader came as a relief; he held out a small shred of hope that you would accept his offer, but he wasn't too sold on the fact that you would actually agree. So when you did, his heart fluttered.
In the weeks following the encounter, he became much more present in your daily life. 
Before the standard day started you would often wander into his quarters and feel out his location throughout the force (though you knew he was intentionally putting out  a special signal just for you).
After shifts were done you would have debriefing chats with him, which mainly consisted of random conversations and his adorably flustered comments about or to you. 
In your earlier days of working for the sith, you always assumed he was busy every minute of the day; he always seemed in a hurry when he strutted down the cold halls.
But as he dedicated more and more time to you, you found that it wasn’t the case. 
Yes, he did have a great many things to do, but he was quite proficient at his job; after all, he had been doing it for over a decade.
Anyways, who would dare attempt to question him about his whereabouts other than the emperor?
No one. 
He was one of the two most feared men in the galaxy- he would be just fine if someone noticed him spending more time with the mechanic than usual.
In the more recent days he had been inviting you to join him in his meditation chamber for some peaceful time away from curious workers.
You would enter the chamber as if you were going to work on his pod but you would actually just wait until he came in a while later. 
The pod was small and truly only built to accommodate his large frame, so when you were there he would take a seat then call for you to climb onto his lap.
Once you were settled he motioned for the chamber to close so the only thing to focus on were the two of you in the small capsule. 
Once you were in there it seemed much more spacious than the outside portrayed, his seat was soft and so were his thighs (apparently, they were one of the only parts of him that was left human).
You would sit in his lap and rest your head on his chest or straddle his lap to speak with him face to face (or…rather face to helmet).
Though you had basically proclaimed yourself to the Sith and spent a multitude of time with the man, you never were awarded the gift of seeing his uncovered face.
It wasn’t for your lack of trying, but most times he would respectfully decline or attempt to divert your attention. 
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Today Vader had been pretty busy, so after your shift you just went back to your chambers and got ready for bed.
You drifted in and out of sleep for a few hours until you heard a knock at your door.
Who could that be? It was the middle of the night.
The tile was cool beneath your feet as you gathered a blanket around your shoulders and headed for the door. You clicked on a lamp that lit the room with a warm glow. 
You were barely to the door when it swooshed open to reveal a familiar figure; you tilted your head to the side with a confused look. 
“Vader?”
He looked down and asked “may I come in?”.
You nodded, allowing him to enter and closing your door, “Is something wrong?” you asked, thinking something needed fixing.
“No, no. Everything is alright. I just wanted to see you” he admitted, standing awkwardly in the middle of your room. 
Your shoulders relaxed when you realized it wasn’t an emergency and you smiled, “well here I am! it’s nice to see you, i missed you today ”. 
You walked to your bed and patted the space beside you; he sat next to you but continued to look forward. 
“Are you sure everything is alright?”.
He sighed, “It’s my master. He is asking me to have an audience with him tomorrow”.
Your brows furrowed, didn’t they meet often? Why was this perplexing him so much?
“What's so bad about that?” you asked innocently.
“He thinks I have made a mistake. I worked with an enemy- well, not really an enemy, just someone who isn’t on the empire’s side” he explained, resting his head in his hands. 
You rubbed his back and decided it best not to pry, “I’m sorry Vader, Is there anything I can do?”.
He was thankful you didn’t ask details- you comforted him so well.
If he were to explain why teaming up with Sabe was so problematic he would have to explain who Sabe was to Padme and why Padme was important.
The stress of facing his master tomorrow was far too taxing to also reveal his past to you; he couldn’t do that tonight. 
“No, but I appreciate the offer,” he said. 
Silently, you knelt on your bed and wrapped your arms around him, holding him close in your warm embrace. No words were exchanged, yet you could feel his exhausted relief from your touch. 
You opted to rest your head on his shoulder as you rubbed your thumb over his bicep. His heart cried as you held onto him- he hadn’t felt this safe in years; he didn’t want you to let go. He reached for your free hand and held it tight. 
“Thank you, y/n” he said as you sat back and he finally faced you. 
The blanket had fallen from your shoulders and your sage green nightgown was now visible; it wasn’t scandalous or anything crazy, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. Your beauty was eminent and demanded his attention. 
“It’s alright, Vader. I just want you to be ok” you spoke.
His heart yearned for you and the love he knew you would give, but how could he have you when being with him would just put you in danger?
“I haven't felt that in so long…” he trailed off.
What hadn’t he felt? You became confused by his words. 
He turned to look into your eyes, “I haven’t felt cared for. Truly cared for”.
His voice wavered and you gave him a sad smile before resting a gentle hand on the side of his helmet. 
“I do care.. So, so much” 
His breathing filled the otherwise silent room as he placed a gloved hand over yours. 
“I know you do”
You looked over at your clock and it was in the early hours of the morning now, you were tired and he probably was too. 
“It’s late. Why don’t you stay for a while? We can lay down.” you offered, reclining on your bed. 
Any other night he would have politely declined, not wanting to get more attached than he already was, but tonight he needed someone. 
Without hesitation he agreed and took his place beside you in your large bed (another perk of being Darth Vader’s personal mechanic, you got an upgraded room).
He grunted as he laid down, his armor poking into his body irritably.
You gently tapped his shoulder and offered him a solution to make him more comfortable, “Why don’t we take some of your armor off? Wearing that can’t be pleasant”.
He agreed and allowed you to help him unlatch his stiff guarding. Once it was all off, he laid on his back and you scooted closer to him and laid your head on his chest above his chest box. 
“Vader- will I ever see your face?” you asked out of the blue after a few minutes of lying with the Sith. 
You felt him shift under you, “Why would you want to see that?” he sounded genuinely confused.
You gazed up at him, “because, I want to appreciate your beauty. ”
“There is nothing beautiful under this mask, I assure you. You are all the beauty we need here” he said, lying his head back down. 
“Plus you already see me.”
You frowned, of course you heard the stories of vader being more machine than man, but you didn’t care. 
“I see your suit- the same suit everyone else sees. I want to see you, I want to see the man who shares these tender moments with me” you cooed , running your hand along his side. 
“I am sure if you see my face, you will no longer wish to… be mine” 
A bittersweet feeling washed over you: it was such a rush to hear him refer to you as “his”, but at the same time it pained you that he was so ashamed of his physical appearance that he would shield himself from everyone…including you. 
“Alright, I won't keep pressuring you… I just want you to know, I would never leave you”.
At that, you could sense the smile that adorned his covered face. 
You and Vader stayed like that for a while, just discussing random things that came to mind until you got on the topic of first impressions. 
“As soon as I saw you I was intrigued. I could assess the physical beauty but once I found you in the hallway after your mother passed, I really saw you as another individual- not just another worker.” (Vader went on to apologize for his close minded opinions of average imperial officers). 
“Huh? When I first started seeing you around, I thought you were going to kill me” you said to him as you ran your hand along his chest. 
“What?” he asked, worriedly.
You sat up and tilted your head. 
“Back when I had that spat with the trooper outside of your meditation chamber all that time ago. You killed them later that night- I heard it.”
“I knew I sensed you,” he said to himself.
“Yea, I couldn’t sleep, then I saw that and headed back to my room. I was sure you were going to kill me because the rumors were associating me with you.”
He tilted his head and his tone became more serious. 
“I killed those troopers because they were harassing you and spreading false information, they did not deserve to be on my ship.”
“You probably could have just had them transferred. What made you angry enough to kill them though?”
“They disrespected me and they disrespected you. I could not have that. They were not even worthy of speaking your name.” he spoke with such a passion… you hadn’t seen him like this before. 
Vader seemed genuinely upset that they had been bothering you for so long. 
“It was alright, nothing I haven’t heard before” you offered
He turned his head towards you with an unreadable look, “as long as you are with me, acts such as those will not go unpunished”. 
He was serious. 
“Vader, it is alright, they’re just scummy people anyway-”
He gently took your hands into his and looked into your eyes, “That is not alright. Allow me to do these things for you. Allow me to protect you”.
Maker, he really did care about you. 
You offered a small smile, “I will allow it, only because it was you that asked”.
He seemed to relax at your blessing. 
“But I want you to know I don’t need protection, I’m a big girl, I can handle myself” you joked which garnered a smile from the man beside you under his helmet.
“Of course, my dear” he confirmed as he gently brushed his thumb over your cheek. 
Never in a million years would Vader have thought that he could be this intimate with someone again; only a few years ago he would have laughed in your face if you told him he would be able to feel this way again. 
His past haunted him in his early years of his time as a Sith, which made him cold and ruthless.
But as the years went by and he grew older he became a little less harsh (though he would never admit it).
Maybe he missed feeling wanted or appreciated or maybe it was because he genuinely wanted you- after all, he couldn’t imagine feeling this way for anyone else he had met as Vader. 
On the other side of things you never imagined that the feared Sith could be so gentle and kind.
He was still an intimidating figure, but you felt so safe with him- so cared for.
His emotions were so strong that you trusted he would do what he said he would. 
You wanted him to know that you were here out of genuine interest, not a scheme to access his power or to use him… you could imagine others in the past had attempted to cultivate meaningless relationships with the agenda of abusing his influence.
“V” you called, shortening his name. 
You turned your head to look his way but found him already gazing at your beautiful face. 
“V?” he asked.
A blush crept up your cheeks and you shyly smiled, “Yea, it's an endearment, is it alright?”.
“It is quite alright” he confirmed, which brought a smile to your face. 
“Alright” you smiled
“I just wanted to let you know…” you trailed off as you traced your fingers down his chest and around his chest box. 
“I am here because I care for you deeply- I have no other motives other than the own interests of my heart.”
You paused for a moment and he sat there bewildered at your bluntly honest statement.
“I want to see you, V” you said softly, looking into his lenses.
“I do not want to burden your beautiful eyes with my hideous face”.
Your heart fell, “You are not hideous, there is no possible way…” you said, hoping to reassure the man. 
“My dear, you have no idea what you would be seeing,” he said sadly. 
“But I do- I would be seeing the face of a man who has shown me nothing but kindness, the man who has looked out for me when no one else would, the man who sees himself in me”.
With a brush of your hand against his chest and your endearing words, something in the Sith caved. How could he keep denying you? 
Eventually you would see him, being his personal mechanic and all, so why not just rip the bandaid off now? 
He sighed and nodded his head, “Alright, but I cannot be without it for long- my lungs aren’t suited for it” he seemed almost embarrassed. 
“I know your meditation chamber is pressurized, would that allow you to keep it off a little longer?” you asked, standing from the bed. 
“Yes? But we cannot go there now, not like this” he motioned to your nightgown and his unarmored body. 
“I wasn't suggesting that'' you laughed as you dug through your tool bag on the floor. 
“What are you up to?” he inquired as you tinkered away at a switch near the door. Soon there was a noise that sounded like a vacuum seal.
A smile dawned your face as you looked up towards the vents and stood; you checked the screen near your bed and pointed towards it, “I was working on that”.
Vader looked at the stat’s screen and saw the air pressure level had increased.
“You did that just now?” he asked, amazed. 
“Yes” you smiled, taking your spot back on the bed with him. 
“I would go to extreme lengths to be able to bask in your presence” you said as dramatically as you could; a stupid grin plastered on your face as you awaited his response.
His head tilted to the side as he moved his hand to the side of your face, “I do not deserve your kindness, y/n.” he said sadly. 
Cool air brushed against your cheek as he began to remove his hand, but before he left entirely, you placed your own hand over his and returned him to your cheek.
“You deserve every ounce,” you responded.
He exhaled and drew your hand to his chest. 
“I will ask one final time, do you truly want to see me?” his voice wavered.
“Yes, I do”
“I understand if you wont want to hold this position anymore after this- But I just don’t want you to be afraid of me” he rambled. 
“V, I never want to leave your side, you won’t scare me…I promise” 
He relaxed at your words and nodded.
“Alright”.
***
a/n: lots of exposition… but he’s abt to take a huge step 😭 he’s whipped frrrr- also the bit abt sabe is a nod to what’s coming up soon (the thing about including the vader and palpating comic- cause the whole reason vader was punished was cause he helped Sabe) I HOPE YOU ENJOY!!!
taglist: @vadersassistant @sxoulohvn @khaleesihavilliard @kashasenpai @darling-murdock @beautifulbearpolice @salvatoresister1 @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @blueninjablade3 @jujuba096 @missmannequin @jellydodger @mirastark @wyvernthekriger @duckyhowls @monada43 @lauriidoesstuff @vienettacream @ray-rook @itswhatever06 @ilovenielperry
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asimplearchivist · 11 months
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𝑪𝑯. 𝑰 — 𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑲𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑶𝑵 𝑬𝑴𝑷𝑻𝒀.
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𝐂𝐇. 𝐈 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐈 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐑.
[𝓪𝓼𝓲𝓶𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓬𝓱𝓲𝓿𝓲𝓼𝓽'𝓼 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽] AO3 | SPOTIFY | PINTEREST summary 🕷️ ⤏ spider-woman of earth 928c is introduced to some unexpected visitors. pairing 🕷️ miguel o’hara/spider!reader word count 🕷️ 3.1k a/n 🕷️ ⤏ don't mind me, I'm just chasing a plot bunny. ⤏ this version of the rhino is from the spectacular spider-man universe because I’m self-indulgent and that’s still one of my favorite iterations of the character. I am also adlibbing this version of the 2099-verse because I only know what the wiki told me…and it wasn’t a whole lot. 🕷️ MASTERPOST 🕷️ 🕷️ ⤏ NEXT CHAPTER 🕷️
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Let’s review all this one last time, shall we?
“Hey, Rhino! You’ll have to try a bit harder than that to catch me!”
My name is—well, you already know that, don’t you?
A furious bellow set every hair on your body on edge. You hooked your feet on the lamppost and curled around it just in time to avoid the crushed taxi launched at your direction. The loan office it embedded itself into had been vacated when the scuffle started, thank God, as had the rest of the street’s occupants. You could hear police sirens several blocks over, trying to navigate the destruction the brute beast had left in his wake. You’d been trying to tire him out in the harsh summer sunlight—just as you had a couple of years prior.
I got bitten by an enhanced radioactive spider, and for the last five years, I’ve been the one—and only—Spider-Woman.
“You’ve really got to work on your aim, O’Hirn, I don’t know what to tell you,” you chided lightly, webbing the taxi and jumping down to swing it back at him. The metal husk caught him right in the chest, managing to knock him flat on his armored ass. “You’ve gotten a bit rusty since I last saw you.”
I’m sure you know the rest—I’ve saved countless people in Nueva York and have kept it intact. (Mostly.)
“I—don’t know what you’re talkin’ about!” he snarled, peeling himself out of the vehicle. “I never seen you before—d’you replace Spider-Man or somethin’?”
I lost my husband in a freak accident, I barely manage to keep my small business open, and sometimes I want for nothing more than to burn this suit and walk away from it all.
You raised a brow under your mask. “I’m afraid I’m the only resident web-slinger in this neck of the woods. Did you get your head bashed a little too hard while in the slammer?”
But I’ve learned that no matter how many times I get knocked down, shot at, blown up, stabbed, punched, kicked—you name it—I have to get up. Always.
The Rhino roared instead of opting to give a comprehensive answer to further the conversation, and you narrowly avoided getting impaled on his horn when he lunged. Latching onto the awning of the hotel across the street, you swung wide and squinted down at the mercenary as his momentum carried him directly into the rubble of the obliterated loan office.
I genuinely thought that I had seen it all: science experiments gone horribly wrong, villains of the week that would give horror writers a run for their money...weird-ass situations all around, and I’m weird.
Something…wasn’t right. Your spider sense had been ringing off the chart since he’d first galloped through the wall of your pharmacy demanding a fight—it was persistent and loud enough that it had given you a splitting headache by now. It hadn’t reacted this badly in several years, and you’d care not to think about the circumstances surrounding the last occasion.
But this…certainly took the cake.
This guy…wasn’t the Rhino you’d fought. You hadn’t even heard anything about the prison he’d been sent to being destroyed, or any of the inmates having made a miraculous escape, for that matter. He sounded different, acted different, looked different…not to mention the fact that this…imposter, or whoever he was, had a far more rudimentary armor than that of the first. It looked like a solid compound of some sort bound to his skin, rather than faulty nano-particles that had malfunctioned and locked themselves out of control at the time of its first reckless experimentation.
You’d know that better than anyone. Alchemax had been nothing but a source of perpetual pains in your ass ever since your husband died, the higher-ups far too hungry for imitation superhumans from a century prior to exercise caution or reason. They’d stop at nothing to get what they wanted, the common people they inevitably harmed be damned.
As the crumbling cinderblocks settled, you slipped down and landed lightly on the cracked sidewalk. You lamented the property damage of the entire block just as much as the fact that you were going to have to use your preferred pharmacy’s sister branch, all the way on the other side of the Hudson, and they always took days to refill your prescriptions even after you received the automated alert.
Computers. Damned with them, damned without them.
“Hey, O’Hirn?” you called into the cloud of dust slowly clearing in the mild breeze. “I don’t suppose you did my job for me and knocked yourself out, huh?”
This time, he charged without a sound. You tried to jump away with a yelp, your instincts screeching like a banshee, but his massive fist caught your ankle and slammed you down into the asphalt hard enough to crater around your frame. Winded, you only just caught his heel with both hands before he drove it directly into your chest cavity—you groaned with the strain of keeping his weight at bay, arms trembling with effort. You gasped for breath, eyes searching out his face despite the tears welling in your eyes (because damn that hurt), and twisted your wrist just enough to utilize the spinneret on the top of your wrist instead of in the bottom. The sickly sweet-smelling web nailed him right in the eye.
He stumbled back with a muffled shout, the silk having netted his entire head from the impact. You rolled out of the asphalt angel memorializing your clumsiness and away from his stomping feet, coughing and doing your best to ignore the pain lingering in your back and ribs.
“Got me there,” you wheezed, struggling to your feet. “Now I’m not going to play nice.”
“The hell is this stuff?” he shouted, finally tearing the object of offense free. “It reeks!”
“Something to help put you down for a nap,” you sighed, already threading the nearest dislodged fire hydrant. You waited in a tense crouch until he whirled on you and lowered his head to clock him in the knee.
He shook the ground when he dropped, howling while clutching the dislocated joint. Letting the hydrant loop over your head, you brought it harshly down on the opposite shoulder to incapacitate him further.
The ground swayed abruptly, and you staggered sidewise to keep from stumbling. The Rhino, despite his obvious agony, flashed you a shit-eating grin.
“Didn’t think about that, did’ya?” he goaded, before rearing his good fist back and driving it into the gaping crack in the concrete.
That entire section of the street caved into the sewer system below, and O’Hirn grabbed your ankle once more to drag you with him.
Rubble and unstable brickwork separated the pair of you, and you struggled to get your bearings even as it pinned you in place under running water (rather than actual sewage, thank God—it had taken months for the smell to leave your suit, even if the UMF had decontamination processes preprogrammed) like the odd little bug you really were.
Heart pounding, you clenched your jaw and shoved at the boulders blocking you in, fruitlessly at first—finally, finally they gave, and you surfaced with a ragged inhale.
Your entire body ached. You were going to have to deal with Alchemax soon, you really were, because your health insurance was definitely not going to cover a visit to the ER—your improved healing would still take a while to fix it, even if you were to gorge yourself like usual.
“Just be glad for no broken bones,” you muttered, peering up into the hazy sunlight streaming into the chasm Rhino had created. “Those hurt like a bitch.”
“I think I can help with that.”
You whipped around. “Oh, for the love of—”
Rhino’s fist nearly took your jaw clean off your skull with a dizzying roundhouse that sent you flying into what remained of the sewer’s wall. You collapsed on the service walk, biting your lip fiercely to keep the bubbling whimper firmly lodged in your chest. “Fuck, man, you couldn’t stand to be a gentleman, could you? That’s my good si—”
He cut off your tirade by clamping his fist around the back of your neck, dragging you into open air and glaring down his crooked nose at you.
Were you imagining things or was he…shaped differently than a normal person? Not even being a supervillain, he just…looked weird. Like, really weird.
Or…maybe it had to do with the fact that his fingers easily reached around to the front of your throat and were now squeezing hard enough to block your airway.
“I’ve about had enough of you,” he growled, grimacing as you grappled his arm in an attempt to release his grip. “You superheroes and your smart mouths. If the Big Man ever caught wind of another Spider hangin’ around, he’d blow a gasket.”
You had enough wherewithal to utilize your specialized webs once again, but even though you managed to cover his face again, he snatched your wrists and twisted them to the side to cut off the flow. He snarled and squeezed harder, though a small trickle of relief bypassed the growing panic of suffocating when he stumbled a little. His eyes were going crossed, it was working…
…but not quickly enough. You were fading fast, losing feeling in your fingers and toes, your hands and feet, your arms and legs…your heartbeat thrummed in your ears like a torn war drum, the only sound that followed the dizziness creeping into your consciousness.
Well…you supposed this was it. Definitely not the way you’d imagined going, but…your aunt would feed your cat. There were worse ways to go, certainly—you’d witnessed them firsthand. You just wish that you didn’t feel like such a failure, despite all your countless accomplishments and victories. None of it felt substantial. Not when you had failed to protect those most important to you.
Not when you’d lost your husband. Not when it should have been you.
Your body fell limp. You made one last effort to turn your head and bite the heel of the Rhino’s palm, but he only knocked the back of your head against the wall. You hardly felt it, really, only hearing your tapering pulse and the wailing ring of your spider sense.
“Fuck you,” you tried to rasp, but with no air to speak you only mouthed the words.
The Rhino had the audacity to laugh at that, glittering dark eyes eagerly watching yours steadily glaze over. He reached towards your chin, where he would find the seam of your mask.
Through darkening, blurry vision, you watched a maelstrom of crimson and gold bloom like an aurora over the Rhino’s massive shoulder, illuminating the damp maze of broken rock like neon on a rainy night. Your eyes drifted shut of their own accord as a shape sprinted forth from the vortex at breakneck speed. You hadn’t figured the afterlife would herald a six-foot bodybuilder in blue spandex, but, hey—who were you to complain about witnessing the epitome of masculinity at the time of death?
Listless, you barely recognized being dropped. You didn’t even realize the pressure had been released from your windpipe until your instincts kicked into overdrive. You inhaled so suddenly and so harshly, the burn was what startled you back into lucidity.
Sucking in precious oxygen, you propped your arms beneath your chest and lifted your impossibly heavy, throbbing head to stare in utter rapture as you witnessed what you’d accepted as a hallucination of the peak male figure proceed to kick Alexander O’Hirn’s ass into next week.
“What the hell?” you croaked, sagging into the floor.
The stranger was…lethal, really. Every punch and kick was delivered with frightening force and deadly accuracy. It wasn’t until he backflipped to avoid impalement into the sunlight that you saw the cross between a spider and skull motif caressing his rippling physique. Him then twisting his hands down and launching luminescent red threads to trip the beast mid-lunge only confused you further.
“You ready for the containment field?” called a second stranger—a woman this time—standing propped against an honest-to-God motorcycle in the mouth of the vortex.
The Rhino grabbed the webs and yanked hard. The man, to his credit, didn’t yelp as he was pulled off his feet and towards O’Hirn’s brandished horn.
You reacted before you could think.
Your web coiled around his midsection, and your braking pull slowed his momentum just enough to give him time to lift his foot and dig his heel into the Rhino’s left eye. They both careened into the heap of rubble and under the water.
You scrambled onto your feet, limping to the edge of the walk to peer into the murky depths. You were about to speak to the woman on the opposite side because you wanted to know exactly what in the actual hell that thing was, who they were, and why the hell were they both copying your design when the surface broke into a shower of droplets that speckled your suit. The man tumbled into a heap at your feet, dripping and coughing.
“I’d thank you for your help,” you panted in spite of your sore throat, “but I don’t think he’s down for the count quite yet.”
His head snapped towards you, and you saw the crimson frames surrounding the lenses of his own mask widen. He lurched upright, taking a full step away from you as though you’d tried to bite him. He towered over you easily, well over six foot (even past half?), and his musculature more than emphasized it.
“Hey, no hard feelings or anything, I appreciate the hand,” you said, raising placating palms to him. “I almost kicked the bucket back there, so I owe you—”
He whirled just as the Rhino surfaced from the deep, roaring in fury. His nose was bleeding profusely, but not from his nostrils—was that a bite mark across the bridge?
“Get back and let us handle it!” the man in the midnight suit snarled suddenly, and your heart stuttered.
Your mouth fell open as he launched himself forward, leaving gauges in the concrete where his feet had been planted. You watched, frozen and speechless, as he latched onto O’Hirn’s shoulders and spun him into a glowing red shibari presentation in less than ten seconds. The Rhino lost his footing and collapsed back into the water, though into the shallows. The woman tossed the man a device, and it bloomed into a forcefield that swallowed their fallen prey in a humming yellow cocoon.
“Oh.” You blinked, shut your mouth, and swallowed. “Wow. I need one of those.”
The stranger ignored you, stooping down and hefting the Rhino over his shoulder like he weighed a sack of potatoes.
You blinked rapidly before following his sloshing lumber across the canal. “Wait, wait a second, aren’t you going to—”
“We’ll take it from here, baby,” said the woman lightly, gesturing to the beast who had, oddly enough, fallen into a stiff stasis. “Don’t worry about it.”
“I am worried about it,” you responded tersely, “because that is definitely not the Rhino of my world, you two are just as out of place as he is, and that looks an awful lot like a wormhole that is somehow not causing the known universe to collapse in on itself. Can I please get an explanation, since you both seem perfectly calm?”
The man growled under his breath, shaking his head, while the woman arched an appraising brow at him.
“That’s classified,” he ground out through gritted teeth, and your heart squeezed once more.
“Do either of you work for Alchemax?” you demanded hotly, skin pricking with agitation. “Because if this is another one of their freakshow experiments gone wrong, I am going to blow that place sky high, I swear—”
“We don’t work for Alchemax,” she soothed. She cast another glance at her cohort, eyes narrowing, before she refocused on you with a much kinder expression. “And we definitely have no other intention than getting this big guy back to where he belongs. We’re not your enemies.”
“Just leave it alone, Jess,” hissed the man in blue, resuming his steady pace towards the glowing, shifting maw of raw power. “We need to get back before the toxin wheres off.”
You couldn’t take that nagging feeling anymore.
“Tell me what the hell is going on!” you snapped, hoping the indignation in your voice disguised the fact that your throat was unbearably tight and a persistent sting blurred your sight. “You can’t just—”
He didn’t stop moving, didn’t even turn to face you—not really—just tilted his head to the side enough to regard you with disdain from the edge of his peripheral. You couldn’t see it, of course, nor his expression, but the disapproving drawl of his single-worded reply was enough—more than enough, and you realized that it sounded familiar. “No.”
“Wait, please!” you tried, (begged, more like, much to your chagrin—you hated it when your voice cracked), taking a step forward and trying to decide whether it was worth the risk to web him immobile after his rather impressive (and aggressive) display. “Miguel?”
The imposing figure went stock-still mid-step.
Your breath caught, your suddenly buoyant heart lodging itself firmly in the pit of your throat. He sagged in on himself for a moment, a deep, shaky inhale emphasizing the sheer mass of him—easily thrice your mass—and his ragged exhale was the only indication of weariness you’d observed thus far.
“It would be best,” he enunciated thickly, almost garbled, as though he spoke around a mouthful of gravel, “if you forgot about this encounter altogether, in the long run.”
All you were able to absorb in that split second before he stepped through the contorting portal and disappeared were the splashes of golden light accenting the sharp angle of his cheek and jawline, as well as the subtlest suggestion of a deeply furrowed brow beneath the glimmering material comprising his mask and suit alike—just like yours.
The other woman regarded you for a long moment, something like sympathy clear on her unguarded, unconcealed face. You opened your mouth to entreat her, likewise, desperate for answers when the former stranger had so blatantly refused explanation, but she merely shook her head slowly, reminding you of a gentle, maternal refusal. She, too, wheeled her bike into the portal and flickered out of view.
Then, inevitably, the portal itself dissipated into nothingness within the blink of an eye, as though you’d been hallucinating the entire thing. The tunnel was plunged into total darkness, save the wall of sunlight behind you.
You dropped to your knees, your chin sank into your sternum, and the particles of your mask receded so you could cradle your face in your hands. Hot, embittered tears dripped from your nose and splattered against the concrete, only the faintest suggestions of discoloration in your distorted vision.
Just like that, he was gone.
Again.
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skekdris · 5 months
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Sketch of my OC/Species graciously brought to life by @aryeonos , The Arhulian. Needless to say, a huge, six-eyed, badger-centipede is both intimidating and hard to depict visually. Thanks to Ary again for assisting me with editing and proof reading. I don't think my story could have reached this level of polish if I did not have my love to bounce it off of. <3 Down below is a short story of them meeting the Amaranthine characters by @kwillow and @chocodile . They are in for a surprising house guest, that's for sure! Seems like a good way to get a feel for a character is to put them up against some "knowns" to see how the character would react in those circumstances. Acts as a good backdrop to flesh them out from there. As for right now, I'm still 'sculpting' out a lot of the Arhulian lore and worldbuilding. Initially the story was supposed to be with Hyden, Alex, and Theo, interacting with my Arhulian character 'Niadris' - but the way things were written out and flowed - it turned out to be Alex, Theo, and Ridge instead. I really wanted Hyden to meet them in this story, but then again, Hyden being deadass asleep while all the interesting stuff happens sounds like a pretty Hyden-y thing to do. Anyways, onto the story. It's somewhat of a long read, at ~7k Words. There's a lot of character interaction, so I hope stayed close to how the three would react in such a situation!
The Visitor
It was an afternoon in middle spring - which for this area of the continent meant that if the weather was good, temperatures would rise above freezing. The cool air with the humidity of melting snow seemed pleasantly mild compared to the long, bitter winters. In the study of a large manor on the outskirts of a town called Northcrest; an older, corpulent, Rabbit with a cracked gem embedded in his forehead was gripping the sides of his hair in frustration. "A person of my mind, MY intellect should have solved this weeks - no - months ago!" Hyden snarled to himself. 
"You sure you aren't just stalling for time to enjoy your little 'vacation' here?" A Bat leaning in the doorway chided. 
Hyden put on a despondent look. "I am trying, Ms. Solokov. Really, in earnest. The faster I can put an end to this disaster, the faster I can rebuild my oh-so woefully maligned reputation!" He said, crumpling up another paper of scribbled equations of arcane theory, tossing it into a waste basket. 
Alex wanted to retort, but it would just be another fight, another exchange of barbs like all the other times before. She rolled her eyes, then stood up to wander out of the office. "Hopefully Ridge gets back soon. I want someone I can actually talk to." She thought, returning to her room to take stock of her things.
Hours later, as the sun was setting - casting the hillsides in an amber glow, a brawny teal Shark bundled in a heavy coat returned. In both of his arms were large crates, as well as canvas bags hooked around his arms. The door was opened by a short, roundish fancy Rat. "Oh, do make sure you remove your filthy boots at the entryway, I don't want any melting slush being tracked all over my estate." They sneered in their shrill voice. 
"Yes, of course Theo. I wouldn't want to sully your pristine hardwood floors." Ridge responded dryly. Before the Rat could retort, the large Shark added. "Anyways, here's everything you had on your shopping list, these supplies should keep us stocked for a few weeks before another trip." Preemptively cutting off Theo again, Ridge blurted out: "Oh, and I trust 'ya have the perfect spot to put everything. I wouldn't want to scramble 'yer pantry, after all." 
Theo scowled at the bulky outsider, their constant pokes and attempts at wit got under his skin. He knows Ridge was trying to get out of putting away the groceries after a long walk - but he was also right. "Yes, of course. As the sole keeper of this venerable estate, it is my duty to tend to all it's functions, right down to it's inventory." Theo stated. There would have been more words to shoot back, but Theo's duty as a host kept him from slipping any further into banter with his guest.
After dropping off the groceries for Theo to tend to, Ridge went off to search for alex. The manor contained more rooms and floors than any “house” he had ever set foot in. It irritated Ridge to no end that the little rich Rat insisted that the doors remain closed at all times, so he had to peek into half a dozen rooms and three closets before finding the reading room his friend was residing in. The weary Shark entered, flopping down on a chair; glad to be able to finally sit down on something soft and cushy after his trek. Alex smiled, welcoming him. "Your shopping trip took a long time Ridge, I know he asked you to grab a lot. Is everything alright?" The Bat queried.
Ridge sighed. "Yea... well maybe. Just some things 'goin on." He added before continuing. "I know you don't get out much since you 'gotta keep an eye on them two, so I figured I'd go around town and pick up a little news for ya. See what's happening. There's been talk of some strange things going on. Livestock vanishing, hunting season has been looking a little sparse, and strange tracks out in the snow. People said they look like ski pole marks, I dunno what to make of it, I figured you uh - you have gotten out more than I have, so you'd have an idea."
Alex frowned. "Well, unless we are dealing with a roaming pack of wolves with skis, it's probably another one of those magic, twisted monsters that appeared ever since this whole catastrophe began." Alex sighed, rolling her eyes. "Yet another thing I ought to give that fat Rabbit a piece of my mind about." She said, her voice lowering, oozing with contempt. 
Ridge gave Alex a concerned look. "Yeah, well, if it was just that, that wouda have been one thing. But I saw those funny tracks near the path to the mansion... I don't have a good feeling about this."
Alex nodded. "I see. As much as I want to see that guiltless loaf ripped apart and eaten like cheap, stale bread by the very monsters he's created; we need him. I'll keep my eyes and ears out for anything strange." The following nights were uneasy for Alex. Each night, she'd take station and perch herself on one of the roofs accessible via a second story window, scanning the horizon for activity. Her large ears would catch whispers of something roaming in the distance, but she never could locate the source of the sound or what direction it was coming from. It always vanished just as she felt like she was homing in on her target.
She felt an uneasy tingle in her veins as her frustration mounted. If it was just wildlife, or even a monster, she surely should have spotted something by now. "Is anything really out there?" She thought to herself. After another uneventful evening watch, Alex swallowed her worries long enough to get some rest. She already has Hyden to keep watch over, she doesn't need whatever this is stealing her attention.
During the late evening; an hour past midnight, the manor was quiet, save for the crackle of the evening fireplace, as well as the stirring of but a single person; Theo. Between his duties as host, the sole caretaker for an entire servant-less manor, as well as his intense suspicion of everybody - save for his living historical idol Hyden - Theo was often the last person to go to bed, and the first to rise. This truncated sleep schedule, the bags under his eyes; they were merely the cost of business to keep everything in order. During the final rounds of his estate, a knock came from the door just as theo entered the foyer. The ears of the diminutive Rat twitched, his shoulders jerking at the sound of the knocking, which in the dead of night was as clear as his crystal wine glasses.
Tap tap tap. Another knock came. Theos' ears were not deceiving him. "Who in their right mind would visit at this godsforsaken hour?" Theo thought to themselves. This was abnormal. Tap tap tap. He rarely had visitors, ever. Let alone at a time like this. As he neared the door, he hesitated. The magical crystal embedded in his left hand felt strangely warm, and his hand was flush with blood flow. This was never a sensation he had experienced before - something was off. Tap tap tap. Before Theo could ponder any further, the fancy Rat scrunched his nose and bared a snarl as they heard more knocking pickaxing through his inner monologue. Whatever was going on, it was a terribly rude hour to be disturbing anybody, let alone him. Arming himself with some choice verbal barbs for his unwanted visitor, Theo opened the door.
As the door swung open, he was greeted by a silhouette of something massive - even taller than Hyden - though much of it's form was obscured by the evening darkness and their ebony fur, but what could be seen was not the body of a person. It was of some kind of beast. The fuzzy forelimbs of this creature ended in large, gently curved, off-white spikes, similar to that of a praying insect that Theo had only seen depicted in a historical encyclopedia. He looked up; his eyes met with the pairs it had on their badger-like head. The creature's triangular ears flicked, then it looked down at the Rat; the creature's three pairs of eyes were arranged above one right after the other - like the pips of the six side of a die. The eyes were pure black, save for the iris that shone like a purple ring in the light of the lantern. The words Theo had prepared found themselves lodged in his throat.
Aghast, the fancy Rat stumbled backwards, but his heel snagged on the edge of a floor rug, causing the Rat to land on his posterior, painfully pinching his tail. "Eek! M-monster... Gnnnk! Demon! Hng Aberration!" Theo exclaimed in a shrill voice as his rapid breathing caused him to fumble over his own words. He wanted to call out for help, to Hyden; even to the outsider, Alex. But he could not utter anything beyond sharp gasps as his breathing went to disarray.
The imposing creature looked at the panicked Rat and spoke to them. "Oh? Is that so? Would a monster choose knocking over divorcing your door from its frame?" The creature's voice was deep, coarse, and multitudinous as if three separate beings were speaking in unison. The creature remained in the doorway, peering at the quaking Rat, examining them and their actions closely. All six eyes were locked onto Theo, and the gaze made his fur stand on end. Theo already hated being stared at by just one pair of eyes. 
Theo sat on the floor, his whole body feeling flushed and trembling from his pounding heart. That thing had just spoken to him. In fluent dialect no less! Theo had heard of monsters before, but never an intelligent one - let alone one capable of speech. Something about this creature disturbed him to his core. His mind raced at kilometers a minute trying to process just what he was witnessing.
The creature's lips tensed as if it were about to speak; but then it stopped, before looking to its left. "It seems your sentry has been roused." The creature spoke aloud.
"Ess... Sentry?" Theo questioned. Then it clicked; it was referring to Alex. She always kept watch. How did they know about her? "Was this thing spying on us?" Theo exclaimed in his mind. The Rat felt dread bubbling up within him.
In one of the manor's guest rooms, Alex was sleeping. The tension of the last few nights had made deep sleep an impossibility. Thus, when the sound of Theo's raised voice came from downstairs, it was enough to wake her. She rubbed her eyes as she rose from the bed. "Was that Theo shout-" Her large ears flicked as they heard the sound of something unearthly and her fur stood on end. Without any further thought, her body reacted and she grabbed her hunting rifle, sprinting to the location of the sound. Fortunately, her eyes were fully adjusted for the night, and she made it to the foyer without a stumble despite her scramble. 
She sprang into the foyer, stopping herself with the guard rail of the grand staircase. Alex laid eyes on the huge beast in the doorway, it's six met with hers. Alex was prepared to shoot, but the violet irises of the beast were staring right at her the instant she rounded the corner into the foyer; as if it already knew she was going to be there. The sight made her freeze. "Theo! What in the hells is that!?" Alex exclaimed.
"A monster!" Theo shouted.
"A visitor." The creature stated, it's baritone, stentorian voice matching Theos' shouting in volume.
No longer half asleep with no obstructing walls to deaden the sound, Alex heard the creature's course, multitoned voice clearly. "Did that thing... just speak?" She said aloud.
Before either Theo or Alex could interject, the creature filling the doorway spoke to the two startled people in the foyer of the manor. "Yes. I did. Your language is relatively simple compared to my native tongue." The beast stated flatly. 
"Meh Ms. Solokov! It's egk dangerous! It's bee been spying on us!" Theo said, his chest still struggling to steady itself. 
Alex kept her rifle leveled at the beast in the doorway. She wasn't sure if Theo was speaking the truth, or was just in shock. "Okay, who and what the hell are you?" The Bat said, keeping her focus on the creature.
They replied. "I am Niadris. I am what your tongue would call... an Arhulian." 
Alex looked at Theo in bewilderment. Theo glanced back at the Bat. "Are-rule-lee-an?" Theo said aloud, sounding out the word by each syllable. "In all my eghk studies. I've never heard of such a species!" Theo said. The Rat's eyes glanced back to the creature in the door with fear and revulsion. "More like 'arhulian'." Theo muttered under his breath. One of the Arhulian's pairs of eyes shifted it's gaze back to the Rat.
"After knocking on your door and introducing myself, you suggest that I am a feral beast?" Niadris queried, in their deep, hellish voice causing the Rat's fur to stand on end as they swallowed nervously. The 'Arhulian' did not just speak their language, but had an advanced understanding of their grammatical structure. The implications of this rattled Theo as he shuffled back to get further away from this creature.
Alex took a deep breath as she maintained composure, interjecting before the situation escalated any further. "Alright, 'Niadris', why are you here? Theo said you were spying on us." She questioned, her rifle planted firmly in the direction of the unplanned visitor. The Arhulian was unfettered by her brandishing a gun right at them. Did it really not know what a gun was, or worse - did it not care?
"Spying? Given that your kind have responded to me with either fear or hostility on sight, I must carefully select when I reveal myself and to whom. It is no act of subterfuge. It is a necessity. Even now; you have your armament at-the-ready just from me knocking on your door and speaking to you. I wanted to speak to an individual, then have them inform the rest of my presence. Do you really imagine this going any better if I had been more bold in my approach? Depicting myself as non-threatening would be an order of magnitude harder with gunshot wounds." Niadris snorted, all three pairs flicking their gaze to Alex before one of them returned to Theo. The multiple pairs of eyes looking in different directions at the same time perturbed them both. 
"I eghk do agree that your appearance ehm elicits revuls-" A second pair of eyes locked onto him again. " -ghn a response." Theo said, catching himself. The Arhulian did not speak a word, yet the message was clear; it tore Theo up on the inside to even dare admit, but so far this 'visitor' has shown themselves to be quite capable of not letting verbal barbs go unnoticed.
Alex lowered her rifle, still keeping both hands on it. "I suppose that's... a pretty good point actually." She sighed. "But still, why are you here?"
Niadris spoke calmly. "We share a common enemy. Despite my imposing stature and prowess, physical might is all but meaningless against a foe that subsumes and absorbs all flesh that it touches." Alex's eyes widened as the creature continued explaining. "All my strength and ability are merely tools to avoid becoming a hearty meal in the wake of such a lurid foe." Both Theo and Alex became less defensive as Niadris continued. "...It is a terrible entity that digests without need or moderation. It is a blight upon this world."
Alex and Theo knowingly looked at each other. 
"Yeah. We call it the Shadow." Alex said. Her mind feeling a slight amount of guilt over her hostility, her rifle lowered completely. 
"Hrm Yes. In that regard we do have a commonality..." Theo relented, stopping before adding too much.
The fancy Rat composed himself enough to stand back up, and brush himself off. "So, that brings us to the matter at hand. How did you find out about our mission? I don't think anyone would have snrk told you about Rising Dawn."
The Arhulian stared with no reaction. "Rising Dawn? Is that a title?" They paused before adding: "No, I sensed that this place had an anomalous aura, so I studied you from afar before approaching." 
Theo raised an eyebrow. "What is this urgh 'aura' you speak of? What do you mean by sense?" He asked, his voice dripping in incredulity.
"My kind - Arhulians - have a 7th sense if you will. We can see the 'aura' of living things." Niadris explained. "This place caught my attention because I observed a strange aura much further than I would normally be able to; I was at the crooked sign above the red roofed well when the aura became detectable to me. My normal range is about three-fifths of that."
Theo and Alex raised both their eyebrows. "That's half a kilometer!" They both exclaimed in their minds.
"As I approached and could resolve things in detail, I noticed five distinct auras." Niadris raised their scythe-like forelimb and pointed in various directions. "Two crimson auras; one that luminesces brightly." Niadris pointed to Theo before continuing. "Crimson auras? Is it referring to our catalyst stones?" Theo thought to himself as the creature explained. The Rat was still skeptical, as him being a witch was public knowledge after all. As the Arhulian continued narrating, they mentioned: "The second crimson aura seems faint - as if it were hibernating or asleep." Theo's face twitched in shock as the creature pointed to the direction of the room Hyden was currently residing in - an interior room with no visibility from the outside, nevermind the fact Hyden's presence was supposed to be hidden. Niadris, still speaking: "Then there are two mundane auras - one of them with a notable a tendency to perch from a defensive vantage point." The Arhulian stated, pointing their bone-tipped forelimb to Alex.
"Is that how he snuck past me? He knew I was on watch and avoided me?" Alex pondered. 
"Then lastly, the fifth aura. A writhing, squirming mass of discordant signals, that seethe and roil like water itself harboring anger, yet cannot move freely. As if it were sealed away." Niadris pointed in the direction of where the shadow sample was.
Alex and Theo were at a loss for words. There was no way this thing could have such intricate knowledge of Theo's manor without ever having set "foot" inside. 
Before either could speak up, the Arhulian spoke again. "Another one of your kind has roused. It is the other mundane aura, and a voluminous one at that. They are to the northeast, and heading in this direction. Could you inform them of my presence before another outburst happens?" Niadris asked with a dry tone.
Alex was stunned in disbelief. They must be talking about Ridge!
Theo butted into the conversation: "I'm not sure what kind of feh fool you take me for, but I highly doubt you really have such a fantastical ability. Really, you can 'see' us through solid walls?" Theo's mind was a whirlpool of doubt and skepticism. The creature's claims seemed too extraordinary to be true. Theo was not sure how, but it has to be some sort of ruse! In the depths of the Rat's mind, the idea of this creature being able to observe him constantly, undetected was a soul-chilling prospect that fundamentally violated his privacy. It has to be a ruse.
"Yes." Niadris bluntly responded.
"Hmph Well, it was a cunning deception, but I'll have you know, our guest is residing in the southwest portion of my manor. And even if they were where you claimed to be, you aren't even looking in that direction..." Theo scoffed. As he was monologuing, the Bat's large ears flicked as she picked up the sounds of footsteps... coming from the northeast. 
Niadris did not care to let the Rat finish before speaking, their baritone, multitudinous voice overpowering the Rats' in the conversation. "You have previously admitted to having no information about my species, yet you are presuming knowledge of my capabilities?" 
Theo was incensed at being interrupted. "How dar-"
Ridge entered the foyer, scratching his back with a pillow in the other hand. "Hey, uh, is there a barbershop trio here, who are you talki-" The large Shark froze in place as his eyes met with the strange, badger-like creature filling the doorway. "Ah! uh! What in the goddamn...?!" Ridge dropped his pillow and adopted a boxing pose as best they could as their limbs still felt heavy from their evening nap. The Arhulian's eyes devoted a pair to focus on each individual in the foyer.
"Calm down, Ridge! This thing isn't... being dangerous. It wanted to talk to us." Alex blurted out with as much composure as she could muster. 
Theo's face was flush as he exclaimed. "What are you doing there? Your room is on the other side of the manor!" The Rat's entire body tingled as any shred of doubt he could summon was scalded away by the unfolding situation. 
The muscular teal Shark stammered, as so much was happening all at once for him. "Uh, well, I wandered around and dozed off in one of the book rooms. I got up because it was cold, then I heard this guy... thing?" Ridge said, glancing at Niadris, reluctantly dropping their boxing pose and grabbing their pillow.
"Well, at the very least, Niadris isn't lying to us." Alex said exasperated. Though she too, had her doubts about this 'visitor', she did not appreciate Theo antagonizing them openly. Theo glared at her. So far the Rat has shown hospitality to the outsider, but this jab from her really rubbed him the wrong way. In the uncomfortable silence of the foyer that was now getting cold due to the door still being open, Alex's mind sparked with an idea. "Wait a minute. Your special 'sense' is omnidirectional? And it works through stuff?" The Bat thought aloud, raising her voice as her ideas congealed before her. "You mentioned exactly where our sample of the Shadow was earlier too... Theo! They can detect the Shadow long before any of us can see it coming! Don't you realize how insanely useful that could be?"
The fancy Rat stammered as they choked on the shreds of their ego. "Hhhhnngh I'll... take that into consideration... Eugh if we are going to board this creature. I just hope it's civilized enough to behave as a guest." Theo sneered.
The Arhulian made a grin, showing off their sharp, carnivorous fangs to the Rat, as well as the deep plum hue of their interior flesh. "Considering your kind have reacted negatively to my being - often with violence - my exposure to 'civilization' has been quite limited. If my lack of knowledge bothers you so greatly, perhaps you could take some time to elucidate on the matter of guest-hood~" Niadris smirked. 
"Grrrr... Perhaps I will." Theo scoffed. “But I hope you know, we do not have the culinary erk inventory for something of your dietary needs.” Niadris nodded. “I am more than capable of procuring my own food, so you will not have to worry about my nutrition. In fact, I had eaten a deer a few days prior. I should be satiated for several days at least.” The fancy Rat raised an eyebrow. “You have, egh ‘eaten’ ’a’ deer? I think your grammar is a touch underdeveloped. Don’t you mean you caught a deer? hmph What did you do? Swallow it whole?” Theo sarcastically remarked. “I had to break off those meddlesome antlers, but yes, I devoured it whole.” The Arhulian responded nonchalantly. The foyer was stunned. “A-an entire deer?” Alex said incredulously. Theo’s face contorted with disgust. The thought of a creature this size ingesting prey whole - and possibly alive - summoned dreadful imagery in his mind. “So… that would uh... ‘splain the missing animals without a trace. Heh, we thought that was the Shadow ‘fer a moment there.” Ridge chuckled nervously. Theo did not relish being in the room with this lurid creature any longer than he had to. He turned up his scrunched nose before walking off. He was ready for this evening to end. “As I was stating; ehm your first lesson on etiquette will be on closing the door. You're letting all the warm air escape!" Theo spoke as he slinked to the other room, pulling out a cigarette and a lighter from his suit pocket, needing something to take the edge off. As he puffed on his cigarette, the tingling in his hand faded.
Niadris scuttled forward into the foyer, bowing their head to ensure they cleared the door. As the Arhulian entered, their full figure and size was apparent to Alex, Ridge, and a distant Theo peeking from a doorway. Though superficially resembling a badger from the neck up, from the neck down; the Arhulian had a long, Myriapodic form with six pairs of pointed, centipede-like legs. The limbs started off fleshy, covered in fur, then transitioned to softly curved limb spikes that were off-white in color, like bone or horn after the third joint. The Arhulian's body was long and arranged like that of a large, furry millipede or caterpillar, albeit with no segments. Despite their body arrangement, the Arhulian was mammalian - bone clad in flesh - yet clearly centipede-like in their silhouette and locomotion. Niadris closed the door with a light slap of their long, tapered, heavy tail.
"Holy shit. That's... not somethin' you see everyday." A tired Ridge said, not entirely sure if they were still dreaming or not. 
Alex looked at Niadris and saw that they had the strap of what appeared to be some kind of homemade rucksack across their chest as their only article of clothing. "Yeah, I was about to ask about the lack of clothes... but I guess there's nothing in your size." She remarked lightheartedly, trying to break the tension in the air.
"No. There is not. My metabolism can vary to maintain body heat relative to the environment, so clothes would be unnecessary. In addition, they would both limit my range of movement, and be unlikely to hold up to the kind of abuses my hide experiences." Niadris responded earnestly.
The teal Shark spoke up once there was a gap in the conversation. "So, uh... How do I say this? I don't see nothin' down there, and yet your voice is deeper than an Ironfrost coal mine. What are ya? A guy or girl?" The Shark asked. 
Alex's face went wide with shock before scrunching back down into a glare at the Shark. "Ridge! That's terribly rude to just go and ask someone a thing like that!"
Niadris interjected. "There is no need to chide him. It is a perfectly legitimate question. After all, that den keeper did state there appears to be no documentation whatsoever of my kind in their knowledge base - and given the encounters I have had - neither do the rest of your kind for that matter. To answer the first question, my reproductive organs are housed internally to protect them from the rigors of life. Likewise, the answer to the latter question is that your binary terms are insufficient to describe me. Arhulians possess both the ability to fertilize a mate, and sire children. We are hermaphroditic." Niadris explained. "Your language is... limited in expressing my form, so gender neutral terms will be adequate."
Ridge's face was flush with embarrassment as he realized how personal and blunt his question was. "So yeah, on that... if 'yer talkin' about mates; doesn't that mean there are more of 'you' out there?" The shark said sheepishly, trying to adjust the course of the conversation away from his prying faux pas. He clutched his borrowed pillow tightly. Talking to this thing still seemed like a surreal dream to him.
The Arhulian was silent for several seconds. Up until now, they had been immediate to respond to questions. Alex and Ridge glanced at each other. "My kind are not native to this land. In addition, I have traveled a substantial distance. It is highly unlikely you will encounter another Arhulian." Niadris stated, with a briskness to their voice. 
Alex looked down at Ridge from the second floor and gave Ridge a gesture to "Cut it out." Ridge gave a small nod. Alex sighed. "Well, it's safe to say your arrival has been quite a surprise. I think we all should get some rest and continue your introduction properly tomorrow." The Bat said, waving her arm for Ridge to come over to her.
Ridge added: "Oh, uh, I don't think we have any beds that'd fit you. 'Fer now you'll have to stay in the reading room I was in. Theo's got a big cushy rug in there. The fire is dyin' down, but I'm sure it's better than out there, heh.``
Niadris gave an acknowledging nod while their triangular ears perked up. They then pointed in the direction of the room Ridge came from with their uppermost arms, that had regular - albeit large, clawed - hands instead of a fang-shaped spike like the rest of their limbs. The shark raised an eyebrow. 
"Hey, uh, how do ya know what room I came from?" Ridge asked, confused. 
Alex sighed and rolled her eyes. "Yeah... I'll explain that in a minute, Ridge. I think Niadris here wants some space, they need a moment to relax after the 'welcome' we gave them." She said, physically pushing on the Shark to usher them out of the foyer.
It was true that they wanted to be left alone. Niadris had little experience dealing with people. They felt exhausted having to keep their composure on total lockdown to appear as non-threatening as possible. Niadris was eager to find this "reading room" Ridge had mentioned. Spatially, they knew exactly where it was based on the Shark's location in their mindsphere. On the other hand, their mindsphere did not consider walls, thus the Arhulian had to take a few moments to figure out how to navigate the interior of the manor to the reading room. 
Despite their size and bulk, the sound of the Arhulian's centipede-like legs scuttling across the floor were much quieter than one would anticipate. Niadris made it a point to take light steps, and maneuver on rugs and carpets to minimize sound. Not out of etiquette, but as a means to hone their stealth. Never before Niadris had such an opportunity to interact and maneuver around people in close proximity in a safe environment.
The Arhulian noted a single aura tailing him; it was the bright, crimson one of Theo. Not desiring further drama, Niadris elected to ignore the Rat's presence as they made their way to the "reading room" Ridge had spoken of. The comforts of fire and shelter were secondary to the Arhulian; what had piqued their interest was the very title of the room itself. Alex and Ridge were returning to their rooms, trying to process the evening's events. "They were... quite the visitor." Ridge said, his tone unsure. Alex looked down at the floor as she walked. "Yeah. Something about them makes my fur stand on end. It's like a creeping feeling going up my back." The tall Shark looked down at his troubled friend. "Are... are ya afraid? They give me the creeps somethin' fierce too." The Bat exhaled. " I... I don't know Ridge. I had my gun pointed right at their head, but they were unfazed. Niadris seemed to know what guns are, yet they treated me like an afterthought. They don't seem dumb either; they gave Theo a good run for their money in a debate. So either they got a damn good poker face, or... this 'Arhulian' might be even tougher than it looks." Alex trailed on, the confidence in her voice gone now that she was in private with the one person here she could truly consider her friend. "...I'm a soldier. A hunter. I've had scraps with big game, I've fought people bigger than me. Even gave ol' lard chops a bloody face." Alex said, referencing her brawl with Hyden. "But that creature, it isn't like anything my training could have prepared me for. I don't fancy getting into a fight with them." Ridge scratched his fin. "So, was letting 'em in really a good idea?" "Personally, I think their alibi passed the sniff test. They could have attacked any time and hit us when we couldn't see it coming. If they wanted to make a move, I'm pretty sure they wouldn't be playing mind games like a certain someone I know. We have that going for us at least." Alex paused. "Even so, I feel like they aren't telling us everything." Ridge nodded. As they reached their bedrooms, the two parted ways, then closed the doors to their rooms.
In the other portion of the manor, the Arhulian arrived at the reading room; their three pairs of eyes widened in delight. Wall to wall shelves lined with books! Niadris had very limited experience with books from their fleeting encounters - or spoils - from outsiders. Most of those books contained relatively uninteresting data like logs or journals, or completely fictitious tales. Here however, had an assortment of books on a large variety of subjects and organized quite neatly. The Arhulian removed their handcrafted backpack and pulled something out. It was a thick leather-bound book. It was plainly covered, with the sole word "Dictionary" for the title. 
Niadris' chest seemed to squirm and writhe all on its own, followed by the faintest of popping and cracking of stiff joints. With a sound of flesh being pulled taught, numerous pairs of spindly arms came slinking out from in between the creature's ribs on the sides of their chest! These arms were very thin; near-skeletal in appearance. The hands on them were clawless, and consisted of three vaguely conical digits - two fingers, one thumb. These limbs were much slower and deliberate in their movements, and the leathery skin they had was a very deep plum color, almost black. In their travels, Niadris had quickly learned that the pages of books often were too delicate for their stronger, clawed, "normal" arms.
After tenderly putting away their dictionary, the creature's three pairs of eyes darted all across the room, scanning the spines of each book for topics of interest. The low-light conditions of the dying fire was more than enough for the Arhulian to discern the titles. Then, the Arhulian scuttled across the perimeter of the room, picking out a dozen books before returning to the center of the reading room by the smoldering fireplace. The huge, badger-centipede-like being then rested their long form on the floor, their body and abdomen landing on the carpet with a plompf. Niadris laid out three books with the covers open, while each pair of eyes scanned it's own book.
Theo had been quietly observing the beast from a hidden spot in another room through a peephole; and totally-not-a-hole that he had not gotten around to patching yet. The Rat monitored them carefully, shuddering at the sight of the numerous lanky arms protruding from the Arhulian's chest, and those arms touching his books. Yet, his attention was stolen when he witnessed this creature reading three books at a time! Was this creature really that capable of absorbing knowledge? Then, another thought crept into his mind. "Wait, who taught them to read in the first place?" As his mind contemplated, Theo's eyes widened when the creature looked up, and peered straight at him. Eye to eye contact, as if the wall parting them was not even there. Niadris gestured "come over here" with one of their their large, scythe-like forelimbs that were mounted below their exterior arms. Theo ducked down from the footstool he was standing on - nearly falling off in the process - then he covered his face in embarrassment. It seemed like there really was no hiding from this damned creature.
Letting out a sigh, Theo came to the reading room. The warm tingling sensation in his left hand returned. Was his catalyst stone reacting to this creature? The fancy Rat took slow, cautious steps forward. "It is remarkable. A wealth of knowledge at my fingertips." Niadris spoke aloud. They continued. "For so many years, I had to learn matters in direct fashion. I knew your kind stored information on physical documents, but I never could have imagined this place being lined to the ceiling with this treasure." When Theo was up close to Niadris, and composed enough to listen clearly, the Arhulians stentorian voice seemed to be composed of multiple octaves speaking in perfect unison. The scholarly Rat recalled the Arhulians' comment on their native language... “If the multiple octaves can be modulated separately, the grammar of this species could be phenomenally intricate!” However, Theo had more pressing things on his mind than appealing to his inner linguist, and set aside that tangent in his mind for later. The voice had strong projection, and the beast seemed to be making a concerted effort to whisper - which was speaking volume to Theo’s delicate ears.
Theo initially had some words for the Arhulian prepared, but the "treasure" comment gave him pause. The Rat stood there in silence for several minutes as the Arhulian continued reading what appeared to be volumes from an encyclopedia series, watching their thin ribcage arms turn the pages of each book. The hands were slow, deliberate, and delicate. Near by was a cloth that seemed to have been borrowed to wipe the oils from the creature's hands before interacting with his books. The rat let out a swift, small exhale. This monster treated his things better than some people he's hosted. Theo then spoke up. "At least someone else besides His Grace sees my library for what it is, and not eguh ornamentation. Though, I am surprised you would have any academic interest at all." Theo's words trailed on. Niadris shot a glance at him. "However, I presume it is not a completely irrational observation; a thing like you just can't sceh scuttle into a library. Which begs the question at hand, just who would teach you to read?"
The Arhulian paused, before giving Theo their full attention. "I... am not sure." They responded.
"What." Theo said, the word seemingly having spilled out of his mouth in disbelief. "What do you mean you don't know? How ek! How is that even a facsimile of an answer!? Didn't your moth-er well, parents teach you?" Theo said, his voice raised in frustration.  
Niadris explained. "I do not know how I came to this knowledge. My earliest memories were of me being carried in my brood lord's abdomen. In my cradle of flesh, I would see and hear the world as they would. They would make demonstrations for me to observe as I nursed inside them. Their past memories would come to me in my dreams." As the Arhulian narrated, Theo shuddered at the prospect of being entombed alive and conscious in writhing, moist, undulating flesh from all sides. The fancy Rat took a deep breath and persisted in wading through the graphic descriptions from the beast - he wanted answers for the trouble he had gone through this evening. 
Theo waited for an opening in the creature's explanation to jump in. "Your kind- urk Arhulians, have hereditary memory? If so, how is it you do not know where your knowledge came from? Perhaps a past ancestor?" Theo questioned, only half seriously.
The Arhulian shook its head in disappointment. "If only the answer was that simple. It is far more complex, and I am uncertain of the details. I will tell you what I know." Theo rubbed his brow, adjusted his glasses, and nodded. "When I dream, I see fragments of memories; but these memories are abnormal. I see... a settlement, a school, memories of a life not only not that of my ancestors, but not of my kind entirely... and our biology cannot interbreed. That I do know." 
Theo gestured for the creature to get on with it. It was unconscionably late.
"I do have one possible hypothesis. There is another way our kind can exchange memories and experience. A ritual called Arhel-vāl." The strange word was accentuated by the Arhulian's multitudinous voice. "In your tongue, the closest word to it and what it means is amalgamation. Two mature specimens of our kind, typically one larger than their partner, subsumes the other into their flesh..." Theo's stomach churned at the vexing, visceral, possibly even vulgar imagery the Arhulian had verbally illustrated to him. "...but unlike ordinary cannibalism, the subsumed being is absorbed alive, mind intact, and two, become one." Niadris described, sparing no detail, much to Theo's revulsion.
The fancy Rat's tail quaked as his analytical mind began to put together a picture his sensibilities did not want to see. "You're hnnngh suggesting you have Esss assimilated a person?" He said, his mind racing as fast as his heart. "Oh heavens! Is that why it is here? To consume our minds and seize our knowledge?!" Theo's mind screamed.
The Arhulian peered down at the Rat. "Your luminant aura is flaring and seething. Do you find this knowledge troubling?" Niadris asked. Theo looked at the beast glaring down at him, his eyes wide with terror. "I see. You imagine me as your would-be predator." The beast let out a hushed, hellish chuckle with their deep, multitudinous voice. "Worry not, Theo. The ritual of Arhel-vāl is strictly between my kind; the 'donor' in question must be of the utmost certainty in their union - lest their knowledge be torn apart in a maelstrom of panic and fear. Your kind were never even considered a possibility due to the mental fortitude required to uphold the ritual. The being that amalgamated with me - whomever they were - must have been exceptional in their conviction."
The trembling Theo swallowed. "Well, erf I suppose that is good to know. Hrf Well, if you'll excuse me, egk I need to be getting some rest.” He stammered. “It is dreadfully late. And do take care to return my books exactly as you have found them. hgn It was painstaking to order them all as I have." With an abnormal spring in their step, the fancy Rat wheeled around and left the reading room with haste. 
"By the gods, what is that thing? How does it exist? And why did it show up to MY manor, of all places?" Theo cogitated. Their attempt to seek out answers seemed to have only made the question mark hovering over this mysterious creature even fatter. Theo paced around the manor, and passed by the room Hyden was sleeping in; him blissfully unaware of all that had transpired this evening. Theo raised his gloved hand, as if to knock on the door, but he stopped himself. "I can't disturb His Grace during his rest... but I must inform him of this aberrant thing as soon as I can." 
Theo, anxious and jittering, sat down on a cushioned chair outside of Hyden's room, fumbling with a pack of cigarettes. Alone with his thoughts his mind began to wander; all trains of thought leading back to that enigmatic creature. A particular moment from the Arhulian’s behavior stood out to Theo. The way they retreated to the library, and found refuge in books where they were not judged for their appearance or the mannerisms that others found odd... Theo shivered as he felt what was quite possibly a degree of familiarity with this creature. He did not want to fancy such feelings. The Rat shook their head and calmed their mind enough for exhaustion to take its toll; his head bobbed down, and the unlit cigarette in his hand fell onto the floor beside him as he lapsed into sleep right in his chair. The heavyset Rabbit snoozing under their blanket on the other side of the door was the only person in the manor to have had quality sleep that evening.
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obsolescent · 9 months
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Times Like These
Pairing: Leon S. Kennedy x GN!Reader
Author’s Note: A short oneshot for today! I got this idea while at the beach the other week. Leon gets to have a peaceful, relaxing time on vacation. Also trying out a new format, took some nice photos there. Enjoy!
Content Warnings: None, fluff, domestic bliss, gender neutral language for reader, Leon is trans but just his chest scars are mentioned.
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September, in your opinion, is the best time to visit the beach. Not too hot and not too many visitors either, which is ideal for your boyfriend, Leon. He gets antsy around crowds of people, but due to his line of work, it’s understandable. 
You two prepared the car for the trip down to the gulf, bags and suitcases stacked in the back of Leon’s Jeep Wrangler. It takes around five hours to drive to your destination, a relatively comfortable, easy, and short road trip, the silence filled with Leon’s divorced dad rock music.
Arriving at the condo midday, you two settle in for the week-long stay, before making your way down the short boardwalk to the beach. Once you’ve finished setting up your canopy and chairs, you make a beeline for the shore, shell bag in hand.
Leon follows you, sitting further back to avoid the brunt of the waves. You sit on your knees, finding out quickly that it’s the optimum way to remain upright while the waves wash against you while digging for shells. 
Securing the net’s string around your wrist, you begin to dig into the sand, searching. Brushing against something, you wrap your hand around it, pulling up a lightning whelk shell, fully intact! “Aha! Look, honey!” You exclaimed, showing off your successful find.
“Oh, wow! Fully intact, too. Good job sweetheart,” Leon says, smiling at you. You grin back, going back to digging. As you move further in, the waves begin their assault against you, periodically a whap against your back while you hunt. Not paying it any mind, you continue, whereas Leon has taken notice.
“Baby, the waves are hitting you pretty hard, do you want to move up some? Get away from them?” He asks, concern lacing his voice. “No, I’m okay! They aren’t bothering me!” You reply back, slightly distracted by your current activity. 
“Well, why don’t we swim some? Your bag looks pretty full.” He was right. Glancing down, you hadn’t realized how many you had already found. You nod, cinching your shell bag closed, you bring it back to your spot on the beach. After dropping it off, you head back to the shoreline, Leon having gotten up already and wading into the water.
Following him out, you swim out where the water is up to your chest, beginning to float. You let the waves rock your body, a lulling rhythm as you lean back, closing your eyes and letting yourself float on the surface. 
You feel something brush against your back, startling you. Letting out a shout, your body jolting and beginning to move away, before arms encircle your waist. “Jus’ me, baby,” Leon whispers in your ear, having swam up underneath you, now cradling your body against his.
“Almost gave me a heart attack,” You mutter, relaxing against his hold. He chuckles, “Gotta keep you on your feet, don’t I?” He responds. You let out a giggle, squeezing his forearm that keeps you against him. You two float there, staring up at the azure sky. The sounds of seagulls flying overhead and the lapping of the waves creating a peaceful ambiance.
Leon sighs, closing his eyes and letting the burdens and stress float away with the current. “This is so nice,” You whisper, laying your head against his shoulder. “Yeah, it is. Even nicer with you here with me, baby.” He kisses the top of your head, smelling of saltwater and faintly of sunscreen.
You hum, nodding your head. Glad to have this time with him. It’s not often he’s allowed some time away from work, especially not for a week. But he was promised the entirety of his vacation wouldn’t be disturbed, allowing him alone time with you.
You two stay there, treading water, for what seems like hours. You begin to grow tired, knowing it wouldn’t be wise to fall asleep in the water, regardless if Leon is holding you up. You decide to swim back to shore, wanting to also take a closer look at all the shells you found. 
“I’m going to head back, okay?” You detach yourself from him, heading for the shore. “Don’t get tide get you!” You call out. “Don’t worry, if the current sweeps me out to sea, just collect the life insurance.” Him and his dry ass humor. “Leon!” You yell, snapping your head back towards him. He just laughs, amused at your reaction. 
Reaching land, you sit down on the towel laid out, dumping out the contents of your bag, assorting them from biggest to the smallest. Not long after, Leon joins you, body glistening from the ocean water, his chest scars faint against his skin. He begins toweling off his hair as he sits down on one of the beach chairs. As he works on drying his body, he begins watching you work, a content smile spreading across his features.
Your hands make quick work of organizing the shells, moving fast as concentration furrows your brow. Leon then notices the color washing over your features, turning to look at the sun bathing the beach in a variety of colors that leave him awestruck. 
You glance up at Leon, taking notice of him staring off into the eventide, seemingly lost in thoughts. His body relaxed, face serene. You get up and make your way over to him, holding your hand out. “Let’s take a walk along the shore,” You say, catching his attention. He grins up at you, grabbing your hand and pulling himself up. 
You walked alongside him, hand in hand. The sun begins to dip below the horizon, bathing the sky in hues of gold and orange. Something like this, so domestic, seemed far out of reach for Leon. He allows himself to fantasize, hopeful that one day times like these won’t last just a week at a time, but every day for the rest of his life, with you by his side.
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youngcigarsmokingguys · 8 months
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You want to be pissed but there’s no way you can stay mad at him. He and his family had lived next door to you for years. Hell he and your daughter and he were born within weeks of each other at the same hospital. You had watched young Flynn grow up and tried to be as good of an influence as you could. It’s not the his Dad was a bad guy he just wasn’t much of a man and had no clue how to mold his Son into a man of quality. So for years you’ve kind of taken him under your wing. Taking him to the gym and showing him how to properly take care of his body and the right way to lift and build mass. He was now a starting defensive lineman on his schools football team thanks to your guidance. You had even had been sneaking young Flynn sips of your beer or puffs on your cigar at the neighborhood picnics your Wife kept organizing as he grew up and he was always appreciative. Y’all just connected unlike he and his folks. You were the one that he called for help when he got caught stealing a few dirty magazines from the local newsstand a few years back, telling the guy you were his Dad. You had played it off and on the ride home gave him a key to the ammo box full of porn you kept in your workshop and told him not to stick the pages together and you hope this would keep him out of jail. He chuckled at the last remark and replied with a wink. You and he shared a kinship that you both really enjoyed.
You and your family were headed out on your annual trip back East to visit your in laws. Now that Flynn was older you and his folks thought it would be a good chance for him to housesit for y’all by himself. A few days before you left you had him over to go over your expectations. Your wife and daughter were out when he came over so you handed him a can of beer and said pretty much your only instructions were no visitors, no parties and he had to make it to school each morning of the two weeks you were gone. When you told him that you would be locking your humidor and bar the look of visible disappointment was evident on his face. What you didn’t tell him is that you were leaving a small bottle of whiskey, and box of cigars in the ammo box with all of the porn out in your workshop. You knew that if you were a young man alone for the first time you too would have gone exploring. So when you received this pic your first night of being away, it brought a big smile to your face. You wonder if he had found the bisexual porn that you had left out there. Had he discovered the new magazine you’d recently added to your collection that showed the young stud and his beer bellied, bearded, Daddy Bear puffing away on cigars and sucking each others cock. His next picture he sent you of him with his cigar clamped in his jaw and his fat, young cock in his hand answered your question. Man you couldn’t wait for this vacation to end so you could get back home to your boy.
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muddyorbsblr · 1 year
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relinquish the crown: from a world away
Series Masterlist See my full list of works here!
Placement: before the main story; weeks after 'masked desires pt2'
Summary: in the midst of you dealing with your new headaches, a visitor from another realm arrives in Asgard with the intent to court and someday marry you
Pairing: Loki x Reader
Word Count: 7.6k [i hope y'all chilled some wine and grabbed some snacks]
Warnings: themes of incest (he's adopted but still); potentially inaccurate descriptions of sparring scenes; Odin and his below F matchmaking [let me know if i missed anything!]
Things to be aware of: HimboDad!Thor is back and he's once again making comments that make us choke on air; Loki being all kinds of precious despite the love once again being unrequited
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Something had been amiss with you since the morning after the masquerade ball, ever since you'd gone to your grandmother Queen Frigga and you exited her workroom complaining of mild headaches that had never been there before. The only thing was that Loki was sure that something was the matter with you but he couldn't accurately determine what. All he could determine were the symptoms.
A change in the depth of your words was the second most evident indicator next to your headaches that somehow he couldn't heal no matter how hard he tried, and he did try the first few weeks of you mentioning it. Only for you to inevitably concede to them, accepting it as a part of your new reality and chalking it off to "a side effect of growing older".
He didn't accept that explanation in the slightest, but he kept silent, constantly wincing whenever you did as you touched the tips of your fingers to your head in discomfort. If he thought about it hard enough it was almost as if he could feel it, too.
But it was the change in your tone that truly unnerved him. For in the weeks that led to that morning, he almost dared to think that perhaps the possibility of some part of you returning his affections was not as absurd as he initially thought. That perhaps he could lose himself in the delusion that the same longing he felt was beginning to be mirrored in your eyes.
He never had the chance to see if those delusions were misplaced, for as quickly as the thought had come to him, something inside you seemed to have disappeared. And it was the part that he was searching so desperately for. The part that could perhaps love him back the way that he loved you.
What matters is that she's still here, he thought to himself, an attempt to quell his spiraling thoughts over what could have happened in his mother's workroom that changed you so drastically. He knew that the desperate sentiment was correct. That morning when you nearly fell to the ground it was as if he felt his heart plummet as well, the air becoming impossibly thick at even the mere thought of having to live in a universe where you ceased to exist.
He repeated the sentiment to himself as he vacated his chambers, his pulse pounding in his ears as he caught sight of you across the hall stepping through your own doors and locking eyes with him, a bright smile stretching across your face as you greeted him. "Good morning, Loki."
The god fought against his urge to breathe a sigh of relief when you reached out for his outstretched hand as you began to walk down the corridors leading to the dining hall, thinking in consolation that at least there were some rituals that stayed the same. He could only hope that they would remain a constant in his life as you navigated your apparently intertwined journeys together.
That his mother's vision would become your reality and one day you would run to him and call him "husband".
That the time would come where he would wake to holding you in his arms, pressing his lips to your shoulder to wake you, both of you struggling to get out of bed and start your day because you were too blissfully content right where you were.
Until then he had to remain content in the knowledge that you were still here, your hand in his, with no one to take this sliver of bliss from him for the foreseeable future. "Did you sleep well, darling?"
Your answer had been the same these last few weeks. A slight grimace with a rueful scrunch of your nose as you recalled the night before. "Headaches," you mumbled, almost as if to yourself. "But then again what else is new?"
"Are you certain you do not wish for me to try again? There has to be something that can be done about this chronic discomfort, perhaps something I hadn't tried yet…"
"Really it's quite alright. I told you before, 'tis probably simply something I must live with as I grow older. I fear it would only grow worse as the years go by. You constantly searching for a solution would only prove to be a waste of your time." Your words made him stop in his tracks, nearly making you stumble as you walked on and found yourself unable to move forward as he tugged on your joint hands. "Loki?"
"It wouldn't," he breathed out, stepping closer to you to close the distance and tucking a lock of hair behind your ear with his free hand. "Any time I would spend trying to help you could never be a waste. Not for me. I want you to remember that, little Princess."
A part of him ached as he listened in earnest for any sign that perhaps he could resume his delusion as he pressed his lips to your forehead. That little hitch in your exhale that told him there was a chance that perhaps you felt a similar thrill whenever his lips touched your skin.
But he heard nothing. Only the faintest light-hearted giggle as he pulled away, followed by the sight of you scrunching your nose at him as you walked the final steps toward the dining hall, your bounding strides slowing to a complete halt at the sight of the queen holding a piece of parchment in her hands, your parents and Odin deep in discussion over another matter until you spoke and broke the apparent tension in the room. "Morning…"
Queen Frigga was the first to look towards you, a slight upturn in the corner of her mouth as she caught sight of how you hadn't slipped your hand out of Loki's despite the eyes on you. "Good morning, Granddaughter. Have you had any fortune alleviating your headaches?" Something in the weight behind her words made her question feel more loaded than it seemed at face value, making the god wonder if perhaps his mother had suspicion to the cause of these aches plaguing you.
"No such luck quite yet, Grandmother. On a brighter note, I believe I'm growing accustomed to it. I think it a…mildly irksome companion, making itself known at arbitrary times throughout the day." You chuckled at your own sentiment, making the god have to hold himself back from pulling you to him and press a kiss to the top of your head. Have to fight against the urge to enter your mind and see what exactly could be plaguing it so incessantly. Much as he ached to help you in any which way he could, he vowed to himself that he would not invade your mind the way he did moons before unless it were truly an emergency. Or unless you came to him yourself and begged specifically for that kind of help from him.
Until such day came he needed to maintain that distance.
"Are we to expect visitors soon?" you asked, motioning towards the parchment in his mother's hands.
Odin cleared his throat, motioning for both of you to take your seats at the table before answering. "Yes. The Crown Prince of Alfheim. I trust that you have a basic recollection of him, Grandchild?"
Your brows knitted together as you recalled the information. "I believe so…Darius, is it?"
"Damien," the queen corrected.
"Ah, there it is. Damien." You waved your hand in the air as if to move the conversation forward. "What business has he here in Asgard? And which one of you will be the focal contact of said business?"
Loki felt his entire world freeze over as your mother Lady Sif gave the answer. "You are, Daughter."
"What about me?"
It was Thor that spoke up this time. "This Prince Damien wishes to court you, Y/N." The way you slumped your shoulders and placed your forehead on the table as you groaned was so contradictory to your usual poised demeanor and went completely against any etiquette lesson that had been given to you and every other member of the royal family that it brought the god seated beside you to a brief fit of chuckles. "The four of us collectively agree that it would be worth at least welcoming him into Asgard and granting him an audience with you even for a brief visit."
"It would certainly strengthen the bond between realms if this courtship were to be successful and lead into marriage," Odin added, making you groan even louder.
Loki could only imagine the pout that had formed on your face at these words. The kind that would make him fight against the urge to lean in and kiss it off of your delicate features. Confirm Sif's suspicions about him ever since the Summer Solstice and give her enough cause to beat him to a pulp and forbid him from ever laying eyes on you again.
"I do not wish to marry for the sake of fortifying unions between realms, Grandfather." Your protests were only slightly muffled by the tabletop. "You did not. Father did not. I have said it since I was a child, and I will say it as a woman grown, and I will continue to say it until the day I meet the person I will present my heart to. I wish to marry for love."
"My child, how will you marry for love if you do not even entertain potential suitors?" your father retorted, an amused look coloring his features as he chewed on a helping of pot pie. "Considering who you choose to spend time with, you would sooner marry one of mother's ladies in waiting. Or Loki."
The jesting tone in which Thor said the words did not do anything to prevent Loki from choking on air at the sentiment, briefly throwing a panicked look toward his mother before composing himself. "Oh Brother, come now, don't be absurd." The lighthearted tone he was struggling to maintain was so obviously strained to him as he started gently rubbing your back to help you relieve the tension that was slowly becoming visible. He did, however, wish to stab himself at the next words that slipped from his mouth. "Your father does have a point, though, little princess. In order for you to get to loving someone, you will need to spend time with them. Get to know them. Entertain the thought of a courtship. Love is something that follows, not something that comes in an instant."
He bit his tongue from the next words that wished to escape him. Look at me. The attraction and the desire came before the love. And now every moment with you is a heady combination of all three that I wouldn't trade for anything in the Nine.
With a final whimper you pushed yourself off the tabletop, righting your posture once more as you recomposed yourself. "Much as it pains me to say it, you deliver a valid argument," you grumbled towards your father, before you turned your head to face Loki briefly, giving him a glimpse of that pout that had him ready to risk a beating down from both your parents. "You both do." Your next words sounded as if you were letting them out through gritted teeth. "When does this prince arrive?"
The satisfied grin that pulled at Odin's mouth had the god tempted to throw a dulled butter knife at his own father's face. "We can expect the visitors to arrive in three days. I will trust that you will grant him the courtesy and the grace befitting a princess of this realm, and that you will be on your best behavior." The Allfather then turned his gaze towards Loki. "That means you as well, my son."
He did his best to stifle his laughter as you painted on a saccharine smile and grabbed hold of his hand under the table, pressing a message into his palm in the long and short taps of the antiquated Morse language: You will promise no such thing.
I will be at my most nefarious, little Princess, you need only say the word, he tapped back.
"I promise to be on my best behavior, Grandfather, you have my word."
"Well now there we have it," Thor boomed, reaching over and taking a tart from one of the serving plates and biting off a mouthful. "I told you we had no cause to worry, Father. My daughter may be headstrong and a bit of a hellion when the mood strikes, but she is courteous, and she will move through the motions if need be," he spoke proudly around his food, small crumbs flying out his mouth in a rather oafish manner.
"Endure it would be the more apt term, Father," you muttered, pointing your butter knife at his face. "Please tell me that is not the last lemon tart."
"It's not," he answered with his mouth still full, pointing at his brother's plate as he finished off the pastry in his own hand. "That is."
Your unamused expression went unchanged as you stared on at the blond prince, the flat look in your eyes giving Loki a glimpse of how you were if ever the need would arise for you to interrogate any unfortunate member of the court. Or a delinquent citizen similar to the nobleman that attempted to assassinate him the morning you were introduced.
Or traitors to the throne.
He felt his heart start a riot in his chest when you looked up at him, the dead set unamused expression giving way for surprise and fondness when you saw that he'd split his own pastry into two and placed half atop your own plate.
Despite still being unable to determine what exactly it was that ailed your mind that would cause its chronic aches, the god took solace in these fleeting moments of peace sitting by your side. If he could not do a thing to rid you of them, then he would do what he could to have you avoid them.
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"This is complete nonsense!" you spoke with a heave, trying once again to break Loki's timing as you  practiced drills and failing to do so, giving him the upper hand and the opening to twist and trap your forearm against his chest and grab you by the back of your neck with his free hand, pulling you flush against one another with his hold on you unyielding.
"You know these drills are to ensure you have all your defenses covered, little princess."
"No, I don't mean this," you gritted through your teeth, constantly wriggling and trying to find a way out of his hold, your frustration building as you watched the smirk forming mere inches away from your face. "I meant this whole business with the visiting prince."
You used your free hand to jab at the spot under the crook of his arm that had his hold falter and give you enough room to maneuver out of his hold and start the drill all over again. Another failed attempt to break his timing, and he had managed to twist your body and trap you with your back pressed to his chest.
"I will admit it does seem peculiar for Odin to want to have his only grandchild marrying for a political gain, especially considering--"
"Considering that neither he nor Father did!" you huffed, pushing upwards at the arm pinned across your shoulders and trying to break out of his hold. "Now he wants me to entertain the thought of a suitor just so he could maybe have a marriage that fortifies the bond of the realms? And with such a forsaken lech, too!"
"Come now, darling, you mustn't write him off so quickly--"
"I have reason to," you hissed, clipping the back of the god's knee by twisting your leg around his and sending you both tumbling to the ground. "The man is less than a century older than me and my friends and I distinctly remember him a few centuries past when last he visited along with the King and Queen, he went through all of Grandmother's ladies in waiting and a third of the palace staff as if it were an intergalactic sport."
"You mean--"
"He bedded them. Can't even say he slept with them because he sent them off and out of his guest chambers in ripped dresses that I needed to huddle them away and use those hidden passageways in the palace to make sure nobody saw them in such a state before I could make them presentable again."
Before you could make a move to finally pin down the god and gain the upper hand, he was already shifting his position so that he once again had you pinned, hands wrapping around your wrists as he hovered over you. "Those passageways were not meant to be found, little princess."
You gave him your best attempt at a shrug. "Well I found them." Once more you hooked your legs around the backs of his thighs and leveraged yourself off of his little stumble to reverse your positions and pushed down at his shoulders with all your strength as your best effort to keep him down. "My point is…this is someone with a reputation of fucking his way through the Nine Realms and this time I actually believe it because I've seen him make his way through one of those realms at an alarming pace."
"Well it's been some centuries, perhaps he's mellowed down. Wishes to begin building his future. Starting with a family." He tapped his hand twice on your waist and you ceded your hold on him, sitting back on your knees as he sat up and righted his posture. "And what better way to start a family than with a beautiful wife." His tone was teasing as he lightly touched his fingers to your chin, giving you a small smile as an obvious attempt to relieve you of your tension over the impending visit.
It had been three days since that breakfast. And now it would only be a matter of hours before a member of the palace staff were to summon you to meet this dreaded--
"Princess Y/N, your presence is requested at the King's primary war room."
Make that a matter of seconds, you grumbled to yourself.
You made a motion to stand, halted by the god wrapping his hand around your arm to call your attention to him. "Don't write him off so quickly, darling. You don't know if he's the same character you met those centuries ago. Perhaps he would even come to surprise you, and you would warm to the idea of this prince courting you."
At that moment your head began to pound, making you feel your pulse at your temples. "The thought alone might be enough to make my head hurt," you jested, placing your hands in his as you both moved to stand. "I suppose I have to meet him now," you mumbled as you wrapped your hand around the arm he offered and began to walk on to the war room.
"Do you not think we should change into more…formal attire, little princess?" Loki asked you, motioning toward your training gear, a smirk forming on his face when you simply answered him with a shake of your head.
"I look as if I am to walk into a fight. It seems apt, don't you think?"
His laughter echoed down the corridor, your strides becoming a touch slower as he recomposed himself. "And what of my own attire then, little troublemaker?"
"That I cannot answer for you," you retorted with a chuckle, motioning toward his own training gear with your free hand. "You can change your apparel with a wave of your hand, if I recall. But doing so would have me wondering…"
"Wondering what, darling?"
"Would you not stand by my side if I were to wage into battle?"
The mirth in his eyes quickly gave way to something a touch more serious, your steps halting completely before he pulled you into a warm embrace, cradling the back of your head so delicately as if he were afraid that the wrong move would trigger another headache. "Of course I would, little princess. As if I would ever let you wreak havoc alone."
You let out a chuckle as he placed a kiss at the crown of your head, the god taking hold of your hand once more and walking the remaining steps toward the war room. Two palace guards were stationed outside, opening the doors for you once they saw  you approaching and announcing your and Loki's arrival.
"Apologies everybody, training ran…well, I surmise you are all accustomed to the ways of my father so it should not come as a surprise to you that training always runs late." Your introduction was met with the light chuckles of your mother and grandmother, as well as a hum of approval from your father followed by a pride-filled declaration of 'You truly are our daughter'. "As such you will have to forgive the attire."
The words did not travel as a plea, rather a simple declaration. And a show of power you were barely even sure you had, but wielded regardless. One that said 'I recognize that we are entertaining guests, but recognize that I am the one with the power to progress this courtship you all covet for the sake of the realms.'
A cursory look at the table and its occupants told you there were at least four visitors among you at this moment, inwardly making you groan as you perused their faces for signs of intelligence and found yourself wanting. Then again, given that you spent a considerable amount of time around Loki, it was to be expected that you would find many people wanting when it came to intellect.
One of the visitors sitting closest to where you and the god stood rose to his feet and extended his hand toward you. "Princess Y/N, it truly is an honor to finally formally be introduced. I'm unsure if you remember me--"
"I believe I remember you well enough, your highness," you cut him off as you took his hand in a firm shake, noting how different he looked from his last visit to the realm. Broader, as if he'd been training almost as intensely as your father. As if he idolized him, even. "Though I will have to admit I can only recall you from passing glances and whispers along the palace halls. Perhaps some of the staff or even my friends would be more familiar with your acquaintance."
The prince's cheeks reddened at your words, a hand flying up to rub the back of his head as he looked at you with a sheepish expression on his face. "I can assure you, princess, I did not arrive to Asgard the same wretched boy I was centuries ago. I have been reformed, and I would be honored if I am given the chance to prove that to you. And perhaps get to know you in the process."
You were largely unimpressed with his words. To start with, when one blatantly stated that they'd changed, it was likely that they were all meant for show. A charade. "Very well, then. The first thing you should know is that I value actions, not words. I must be off in a while to prepare for some meetings about the school curriculums but perhaps after--"
"You needn't worry about those meetings, my child," your mother Lady Sif spoke up, looking upon you with a gleam in her eyes. "I can attend in your stead and keep you apprised tomorrow over breakfast."
"And I can attend to your duties for the Winter Solstice festival we can discuss some time after breakfast," your grandmother quipped, the warm smile she was giving you seeming a touch off-putting. As if part of her was struggling to keep the smile on her face as her gaze flickered from this Prince Damien, to you…and then to Loki. "You are free from your duties for the remainder of the day, Granddaughter. I trust you will use your found time well."
A large part of you was greatly irritated at how hard they all seemed to be pushing for this courtship to proceed. Even your father with his silent encouraging smile, barely subtly nodding his head and motioning for you to exit the room. And especially your grandfather Odin and his blatant look of approval as if he was already hearing a wedding march echoing around the golden halls of the throne room.
You took a deep, slow breath, mustering a smile that seemed to wish to crack your face in two as your head once again began to pound. "It seems we have time before my training at sundown with the Warriors Three," you stated, earning a wide-eyed look from the prince and a wider smile that began to remind you of the breed of canine on Midgard called golden retrievers. "Would you care for a tour of the palace? I believe much has changed since your previous visit."
He raised your joint hands up to his lips, pressing a chaste kiss to your knuckles before releasing his hold on you. "I would be delighted, Princess."
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Within seconds of the crown prince of Alfheim standing up and taking your hand, the very air prickled at Loki's skin in a near-violent way. He couldn't tell if it was due to his own affections towards you or truly his instincts telling him that something was amiss with this man, but he'd sensed within seconds that the words were not truthful, and this was the prince's best attempt at trying to perform a convincing charade.
He felt a fool for advising you to consider the notion of a rambunctious boy turned a man reformed the moment he saw the gleam in the wretched man's eyes. A gleam that screamed to the high heavens that he was not all that he claimed to be. One that said he had no intentions of swearing fidelity to you, that if he were triumphant in courting you and convincing you to marry him, you would be sharing him with an arbitrary number of other lovers.
Perhaps even other wives.
The god wished to pull you back to him the second you stepped out of the war room, wanting more than anything to simply protect you from whatever dubious intent this prince had in store. To do what he could to somehow bring to reality his mother's vision of calling you his wife rather than feeling the future slipping from his grasp before he even had a chance to reach out.
"I do pray to the Norns that this be a fruitful courtship," Odin spoke, making the god's skin bristle even worse. "The lad seems to have a good head on his shoulders, if not in need of a good amount of refinement, but perhaps now that Y/N has him, we can rest easy with our fears that she would have to ascend the throne alone." He turned to face Thor. "Though now that there are no longer children of yours to create a match for, I suppose you will have no other option but to partake in the selection of my heir, my son."
"I will not fight my brother," the blond god gritted through his teeth, keeping his gaze trained to the tabletop, his body visibly tense as it shook with his poorly contained rebellion. "And thankfully to our decision to never have given Y/N a sibling she will never have to know this suffering."
"You would surrender?" The Allfather's tone was taunting, making Loki's own rage begin to simmer. First he would watch you be lost to him and now he would be forced to lose his life by battling Thor? This was inhumane. "And all this time I'd believed you built your strength, your power, for this very moment. To battle for and perhaps triumphantly claim the throne of Asgard--"
"My daughter would never forgive me if I kill my brother. She's grown fond of him." He fought to keep his composure as he heard these words. "And in turn she would never forgive Loki if he strips her of a father. When the time comes, and only when the time comes, you will have my conditions."
"Conditions?" The god of mischief was stunned to realize the question came from him; it seemed he was unable to hold himself back. "Brother what--"
"I would surrender my claim to the throne in return for a seat at your court, Brother," he stated, the tone deceptively simple as if he were only stating what he wished to eat to break his fast the following morning. "I wish to see as much of my daughter's life as my own natural lifetime permits. To grow old with my wife and our family. To see future generations be born when Y/N finds a suitable partner." Something in his tone when he emphasized 'suitable' told Loki that they were on the same page regarding this Damien; neither of them saw this prince as someone good enough for you. "Perhaps I could even live long enough to see my own brother find happiness."
I already have, Brother. But you might not approve of where I found it, he thought to himself, suppressing the smirk that threatened to pull at the corner of his mouth.
"This Prince Damien is not a suitable match for her," the god of thunder stated, voicing the very thoughts running around Loki's head.
"That is a decision that only she can make," Odin bit back, beginning to rise from his seat.
"Agreed," Loki spoke again, the eyes in the room now fixed upon him. "But it will be done without any of our encouragement." He briefly turned a sharp gaze to his father. "Or dissuasion." He flickered his eyes to his brother.
And so the remainder of the day went on with only a fleeting moment with you before Loki intentionally halted his reading time an hour after sundown and made his way to the training fields. Sure enough, he could hear your usual huffs and grunts and the sound of blades clanging that always had him in a state of distress thinking about how this was all being done with the objective of one day having you ready for battle.
The sound of clapping and cheering grated at his ears, the god coming to the conclusion that the prince from Alfheim had decided to watch and behave like a true admirer. One look at Damien's posture told him that he was not the least bit comfortable, let alone amenable, to the notion of sitting on the sidelines and being relegated to cheering. This was someone who craved to be the focus of everyone's attention, unwilling to yield it to anyone else.
Once he'd reached the training field he spotted you facing off against Fandral, your modified daggers against his rapier, gracefully deflecting every charge of the blond warrior towards you with a precision that filled him with pride as he watched you. He was almost even moved to cheer himself; he decided against it, however, knowing that you wouldn't have appreciated the added attention.
Before long you'd both disarmed each other and you'd used the offensive side of the drills you'd been practicing with him earlier on in the day, the routine momentarily throwing the warrior off until he countered your strike and had you in a hold similar to the one Loki had you in from your session today as well, your back pressed against Fandral's chest, his arm holding you securely to him.
Loki's heart caught in his throat at the sight, knowing the maneuver you'd done to get out of it would lead to the warrior pinning you to the ground if you used the same technique. But instead of hooking your leg to the back of his knee, you elbowed the warrior just below the ribs and then stomped down hard on his foot in a matter of a few seconds, forcing him to release his hold on you and bellow across the field, "That's time, Princess. It seems you're slowly becoming craftier in the face of battle."
"I have an exceptional instructor," you responded through heaving breaths.
"Why, your highness, I'm deeply honored--"
"I didn't mean you, Sir Fandral," you chuckled, motioning your head toward the approaching god. The warrior quickly gave him a surreptitious  look before striding away, undoubtedly to the maiden that had been occupying a good number of his nights as of late to stroke his ego. Among other things.
"You're underselling yourself, darling," he whispered softly once you'd run into his arms to greet him. "An exceptional instructor's efforts can never be recognized unless he has an equally exceptional pupil. And I'm certain both of us can recall how we met."
He certainly did. He replayed that memory often, and fondly, to help him get to sleep most nights.
"Of course I do," you chuckled. "It's the only time I ever bested you. And I intend to hold that victory over your head for as long as I have breath in my lungs."
He felt the tension lifting away from him with every second that you didn't pull away. "How's your head, little princess?"
You groaned at the question. "That prince is a headache in and of himself," you grumbled. "Making a considerable effort to seem charming and reformed but truly if one has his sights set on courting and marrying the future queen of this and the rest of the Nine Realms, then he needs to make an equally considerable effort to tame his wandering eye. 'Tis not too much for me to ask that the man I choose to marry only eyes me with poorly veiled desire, surely."
Loki suppressed his words at that moment. The same way that he had held his gaze from lingering on you for too long lest you see that he had that look of poorly veiled desire for you and only you. "What an imbecile," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "Whoever gets to be so fortunate to monopolize your attentions should recognize his fortuity. And after you'd spent hours roaming the palace so he could apologize to the women he disrespected when he was here last? The moves of a complete clown."
"How much longer must I pretend to entertain this charade?"
"If it were up to me, I'd send him home right this second. Relieve you of this misery."
"But it's not." You'd taken on a more whining tone as you pulled away to look up at him. "They're set to be here for one moon, and only then will it be my decision if I wish to continue this courtship or put an end to it. And you can trust that Grandfather will do everything he can to persuade me into letting this go on."
He placed his hand behind your neck, gently tilting you away to bring your face into the light so that he could see clearly the wounds you'd collected from today's training. "Why must they always go for the face?" he muttered, pushing stray locks of hair out of the way.
"Because when I am in battle, enemies will not care if they mar my visage," you answered him with a scrunch of your nose, once again having the god struggling to refrain from pressing a kiss to it considering you were with company. "So I tell them not to be careful where the blade lands. Adversaries certainly won't be and we should train as if we were already in the thick of it."
"Well, training has concluded, and the battle has been won, brave little warrior," he jested, playing along with your line of thinking. He lightly touched the tips of his fingers to the skin by the cuts on your face. "May I?"
"Would you truly expend your magic and your energy to heal my injuries in a real battle?"
"In a heartbeat." He would freely give you his heart if you would have it. His strength was a drop in the ocean, a mere leaf in the rainforest, compared to all that he was willing to give you.
You eyed him with that playfully conspiratorial gleam, as if you were partners in crime. In mischief. He could only hope that the day where he could be your partner for life would come sooner rather than later. "Be my guest."
He traced his fingertips along the shallower cuts, the tension constricting at his heart relaxing significantly as he watched his seiðr wash over each mark and repair your features to its exquisite unmarred state. The slightly deeper cut at the apple of your cheek from Fandral's blade was all that was left, and for that, he pressed a tender kiss to your skin, a smile threatening to stretch across his lips as he heard a lighthearted giggle escape you.
"There you are, darling. All better."
You briefly tightened your arms around him before breaking away and walking back into the palace, saying something briefly to the visiting prince before striding down the halls back to your chambers. The god's blood chilled in concern for you the moment he saw the look of boyish admiration drop in an instant from Damien's face, as easily as if he were simply removing a mask, before marching over to the god that stood nearly half a foot over him.
"What you feel for her is abhorrent," the visitor hissed. "When I'd asked around if there was anyone after the princess' hand, I continually heard that 'my competition was closer than I think'. Foolishly, I believed that it was a soldier or a guard. Now I know that the truth is much more twisted. It's you."
"I haven't the faintest idea what you're going on about. I am not courting my brother's daughter."
"Yes you are!" he whined. "You know, Prince Loki, considering you're the god of lies, that was astoundingly terrible." He let out a low, sinister chuckle, starting to pace in a circle around the Asgardian prince. "You do know she'll never love you back, right? This is endearing, familial love to her. She won't ever see you as a romantic prospect, even if you don't share the same blood. So best you drop your delusions of being anything more to her than just her doting uncle that has no care or respect for her personal space, before someone informs her of just how lecherous your mind truly runs.
"I will court her. She may have made me spend three entire hours roaming around the palace and apologizing to every maiden I laid with and forced me to do a grand old show of just how remorseful I claim to be, but it is a necessary step. To become the husband of the future queen of the Realms is the moon shot of every eligible noble out there and I would be a fool not to go into my attempt with everything I've got. And I refuse to go this far and debase myself the way I did today to earn her respect only to have my effort thwarted by a man who has no business being a hindrance to me."
"Do you truly think that you will become her husband by smiling and pretending to be a man who deserves her respect? That she will not see through your act of being 'a man reformed' wanting of a family? She stripped of position someone she held dear to her the moment she realized that the traitor wished to have her meet an untimely demise. Imagine what she would do to you the moment she realizes you've been lying to her."
He did his best to maintain his composure, to not let it show that the visiting prince's words had him stewing with rage. To not give in to the urge to take one of his daggers and cut this charlatan from ear to ear. Someone this morally bankrupt did not deserve another moment of your time, and yet you had no other choice but to grant him an entire moon's worth of your time by the request of the king.
"Ah yes I'd heard of what she did to that lady. She was but a fool, an imbecile thinking that she could recruit you to get rid of Y/N. I will not be so naive; any halfwit can see that you are the one most loyal to her. Like a canine to a human in Midgard," he sneered in a derisive tone. "The right move is to take you away from her, or her away from you. Then it will take her longer to see what you see from the beginning. So once I marry her, and mark my words, your highness, I will marry her…she will live in Alfheim with me. Far away from your council, your fealty." The prince let out a boisterous cackle that echoed across the field before finishing his sentiment. "Far away from your love. And all you can do is watch."
He did not wait for a response from the god, rather he simply turned with a flourish, marching down the direction of the palace staff quarters. Undoubtedly in search of the sorry maiden he would be bedding and sending off moments after concluding their tryst. With ripped clothes and shattered dignity.
Just like you knew he would.
And he couldn't wait until the day breaks into the Asgardian sky and the same unfortunate maiden would approach you and speak of what transpired tonight.
Only that was not what happened. The next morning when Loki stepped out of his chambers looking forward to greeting you and walking with you to the dining hall, he instead found the visiting prince already waiting for you, his mask of boyish infatuation and anticipation already fixed on his face. "Ah, good morning, your highness. Just waiting on Princess Y/N so that I may walk with her to--"
Just then your doors opened, confusion coloring your features as you eyed the elven prince from head to toe, your brows knitting together as the rest of your face winced, your giveaway that you were having another headache. "What are you doing here, your highness?"
"Princess, good morning. I was wondering if I could escort you to the dining hall today?" The prince bowed to you and presented you his hand to take, the irritation briefly showing on his bowing face after a few seconds of you hesitating to place your hand in his.
"I'm afraid that I am not the best company in the morning before the breaking of fasts, Prince Damien. That is one of the main reasons why I more often than not take this walk with Loki. He tempers me and tolerates my potentially foul mood." You threw the god that same playfully conspiratorial gleam before scrunching your nose in his direction.
You squinted your eyes slightly at the contrived smile he gave you in response. "I understand that completely, your highness, but you did say that since I was able to know the essentials of you yesterday, that I could get to know the ancillaries? And I would be delighted to start getting to know the ancillaries as soon as possible. I am someone who intends to know you, Princess. The good and the bad, even when you are by your own definition, not the best company. What better time to start than now?"
Loki noticed the way your jaw clenched for a fraction of a moment before making a show of seeming relaxed and giving the visiting prince a contrived smile of your own. "I see your point," you spoke with a deeper tone, one he only ever saw utilized in more formal settings. "I suppose a momentary change in routine throughout the duration of your visit couldn't hurt too much."
The look of smug triumph that graced Damien was nearly enough to ignite Loki's rage once more, only quelled slightly by you briefly turning to face him with an apologetic look in your eyes.
"I'll see you at training, Loki." He could feel his own pride blooming in his chest at the softer tone you used to speak with him.
"I look forward to it, little princess."
He didn't bother to hold back the smirk as you walked on down the hall, your voice once again snappy in tone as you called for the elven prince's name commanding he follow instead of taking his hand and walking side by side.
If only he could feel a touch more comfort in that. Instead of the noticeable feeling of emptiness settling in the pit of his stomach as he walked the same halls, his palm twitching from the lack of your hand in his, his fingers curling around nothing in reflex as his subconscious brought to surface endless memories of walking this same path by your side.
Each step he took without you seemed hollow. And he could only hope that each step you took with another by your side seemed as wrong to you as it did to him.
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A/N: Welcome to Season 1B, besties!! It's finally kicking off and there's going to be more episodes than I thought because there are about to be two companion pieces to this particular chapter. One, a 'deleted scene' that involves Y/N's walk with Damien around the palace that describes what exactly he means by him 'debasing himself' (and will probably make you hate him more just sayin' lol), but will also have a cute little moment between Loki & Y/N because I just couldn't resist 🥹 And two, an entry into the 'locked away' collection that will center around a moment that will take place in that 'deleted scene' piece.
Now I've been teasing that this chapter will introduce the reason why Loki did what he did in 'terms of surrender', and now you all finally get to meet him, Prince Damien, the crown prince of Alfheim and a whole fuckboi if I do say so myself because besties I hate him already and he's only about to get worse 🙃
I hope y'all are ready because I have been writing nonstop and at the moment I'm working on a 3-parter (the final Lady Sharpe), this series and all the little companion pieces & collections that go with it, and 'back to you'. So please buckle in and prepare to be SICK OF ME 🥴✌️
‘everything’ taglist: @sailorholly @loopsisloops @unlucky-number-13 @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @sarahscribbles @kats72 @kikster606 @evelyn-kingsley @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lovelysizzlingbluebird @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @dangertoozmanykids101 @elizabethmidnight2017 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina
Loki taglist: @calumance @severuslovebot @moonlightreader649 @i-stand-with-loki @nixymarvelkins @infinitystoner @lokisgoodgirl @purplegrrl27 @thedistractedagglomeration
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ok.. bagginshield: bodyguard au, bilbo is a paramedic, and has amnesia. PLease i'm BEGGING
Sandy. My dude. I told you I had an idea for this but it became SUCH A BIG THING!! 😮‍💨😍 So I hope you can forgive the late due date with almost 3K of Bagginshield...where I couldn't use Thorin's name! 🤣 So without further ado...
Pairing: Bagginshield
Warning: Blood/Gore-ish
Words: 2638
“Back again, Mr. Baggins?”
Bilbo whirled around to see the nurse at the desk smiling sympathetically at him. It honestly only made Bilbo feel more pathetic as he played with the stems of the flowers he carried. Three days ago, he had done everything he could to help keep a John Doe alive in the back of his ambulance, and still he couldn’t get the comatose patient out of his mind. His cousin, Siggy, was right. He needed help. Or at the very least a vacation.
“You caught me.” He laughed nervously. “No one’s claimed him yet, have they?”
She shook her head sadly. “No, but he did wake up last night briefly! Dr. Greyham is very optimistic about his recovery.”
That was great news. Bilbo certainly hadn’t held much hope when they found him. Bloodied and beaten in an alleyway, responding to a good samaritan call hours after what they presumed to be a mugging. His pulse had been too low, and with the severity of the head wound, Bilbo had been afraid they wouldn’t find much brain activity. If he was in fact waking up though, it did make Bilbo’s visits a bit more awkward. 
“Go on in.” The nurse encouraged. “He may appreciate having someone to talk things out with.”
Bilbo nodded and thanked her as he worked up the courage to enter. His relief was palpable when he saw that the man was still asleep. Just as he had been, Bilbo set his flowers in the vase next to his bed before taking a seat in the visitor’s chair. The man had gorgeous dark hair that was starting to get oily at this point. Bilbo knew he had been subjected to sponge baths for sterilization, but Bilbo mourned the lack of bathing for him. Luckily, they hadn’t had to cut much of his locks when they were stitching his head back together, but there would be a noticeable balding on the right side underneath all of the bandages. Bilbo hoped the man wasn’t too vain about his appearances to pitch a fit at that. Certainly Bilbo has treated plenty who were. The ‘saving their lives’ part falling secondary almost immediately.
Bilbo finally heaved a sigh and pulled his bag of knitting equipment off his shoulder as he settled in for his usual monologue. The first time he had done this, he had felt quite silly and was afraid that the man would wake up at any time to tell him off. However, he has come to find it almost therapeutic, talking to someone who can only listen. 
“Well, Mr. Oakenshield. Not much to add on today. I finally got the last of those stubborn weeds out of my vegetable planter. Only I fear they will just return in a few days. With the rain we’ve been having lately, I wouldn’t expect anything less. You might be pleased to know that Detective Inspector Bard is looking into your case, but has yet to come up with any definite answers to who hurt you. Well, maybe he has. It’s not like I’m privy to police investigations after all. And well, let’s just look at your chart here…oh this is promising! 
Dr. Greyham says that you are showing massive improvement. If you can ever finally pull away from this nasty coma, you shouldn’t expect any lasting damage. That’s quite lucky. Just last week my partner and I responded to a man who had gotten himself crushed under an air conditioning unit and…well I’ll spare you the gory details. Let’s just say that he won’t quite have the motor functions he used to.
I can imagine this is very good news to you. I’m mean, I’d hate to assume, but I’d imagine you enjoy spending time at the gym. After all, nobody your age looks like…that is to say you’re very…oh what the hell, you’re probably about the fittest person I know Mr. Oakenshield. Of course, even though Theo and Hamfast and Siggy all think that’s why I keep coming to visit you, it’s not. You see I’d quite hate for anyone to wake up alone after an ordeal like yours. I’d do it for…any John Doe you see, but I must admit there is something about you that I’m quite…AHH!”
Bilbo jumped out of his chair, dropping his knitting on the bed, as he backed up with a hand over his heart. The man blinked his drowsy, but confused bright blue eyes at Bilbo as if trying to make sense of him.
“I’m so…so terribly sorry.” Bilbo explained breathlessly. “This must all be rather confusing. Let me introduce myself. I’m Bilbo Baggins, I’m the paramedic who worked on you after we found you in that alley.”
“Alley?” The man repeated roughly as if the word were foreign to him.
“Um, yes. Let me just call your doctor real quick.”
Bilbo moved to press the ‘assistance’ button above the man’s head, when his hand snaked out to grab Bilbo’s arm. He felt himself gasp, both at the speed of the reflex and the tightness of his grip. No loss of motor skills, that was for certain. The man mumbled something to him, but it was in a completely different language. Bilbo felt his heart sink. He hadn’t accounted for this. The man was a tourist? That might explain why no one had come for him yet. The only problem was Bilbo was quite sure he didn’t speak whatever language the man was muttering in as it wasn’t Westron and certainly not Sindrian.
“I don’t…understand.” He breathed slowly. “Can you…understand me?”
The man furrowed his brows together before he slowly nodded his head. That was good! He was bilingual at least. Bilbo thought it was best to start with the basics.
“Can you tell me your name?”
The man opened his mouth only to close it and open it once more. After that, a look of horror crossed his face, and Bilbo’s attention was grabbed by the spiking heart monitor.
“No, no! It’s okay.” Bilbo rushed. “This is totally common for an injury like yours.”
Instincts took over, and Bilbo grabbed his hand in comfort as he slowly tilted his chin towards him looking for signs of a concussion. His pupils were certainly dilated and when Bilbo asked him to follow his finger around, it definitely seemed conclusive. Concussions and short term amnesia would be common with this type of injury.
“We’re going to start slow. You don’t remember your name right now, and that’s okay. What do you remember?”
The man took a deep breath as his eyes turned towards the ceiling. Before he could say a word though, there was a knock at the door. It didn’t seem unusual until Bilbo’s gaze fell upon the dry erase board next to the door. The John Doe wasn’t due for check-up for another hour, and Bilbo’s finger never made it to the assist button. Bilbo got up cautiously when his arm was grabbed again, but this time the man’s eyes were wide with panic.
“I remember someone was trying to kill me.”
Cold seeped into Bilbo’s chest as his heart thumped along to the adrenaline surging through him. Bilbo barely had a chance to say anything when the door was forced open. After that, it was like a scene from an action movie. Bilbo was thrown over to the other side of the bed as gunshots rang through the room. Cutting through the mattress that had previously been occupied. Bilbo instinctively covered his head, screaming over the noise, managing to wrench his eyes open just enough to check on the other man. What he saw, stunned him to silence. 
The man was calculated, calm, and seemed to be running off pure muscle memory as his eyes remained wild and afraid. When the gunfire stopped for a moment, the man leapt into action. Taking one of Bilbo’s knitting needles, he shoved it through the throat of the assailant reloading his pistol, using him as a human shield against the second one as he barreled into him. Using his own gun to shoot him in the head. In seconds, Bilbo had gone from thinking he was certainly going to die, to staring at two gruesomely murdered bodies. The man certainly wasn’t done there. He poked his head out into the hallway only to curse and close and lock the door. He looked through the pockets of the dead men on the floor for another clip that he loaded into the gun in his hand with an ease that made Bilbo realize he was dealing with some sort of professional.
“Clothes.” He barked.
Bilbo raised his hands above his head slowly. “C-Clothes?” He repeated.
The man growled before pulling at his hospital gown with impatience.
“My clothes?”
Bilbo pointed at the cabinet behind him. As soon as the man spun around, Bilbo made a mad dash for the door. Before he could reach it, he was pushed up against the wall and held there by the deranged man.
“There are three more out in the hallway ready to kill the first thing that comes through that door. Do you want that to be you?”
Bilbo shook his head rapidly.
“Then help me get out of here.”
“Who are you?” Bilbo gasped after he was released.
The man had his back turned to him as he stripped down to nothing pulling on his bloodied and torn clothing from days ago.
“I don’t remember.” He grumbled. 
“So how do I know I can trust you?”
“Considering the ease I just killed those guys, if I wanted you dead, I would have already done it.”
That was a rather grim, but valid point. 
“Let me ask you something. Earlier, when you thought I was still asleep, you called me ‘Oakenshield’. Why?”
Bilbo could feel his mouth go dry at the question before pointing to the pin on the man’s chest. It seemed to be a coat of arms; only one of the symbols on the shield was an acorn. The man looked down at it as well, his face betraying some amusement. However, he didn’t deign commenting on it as he moved towards the pocket door that was shared between rooms. 
“Don’t you think they’ll be waiting for you?” Bilbo asked.
“Only one way to find out.” The man explained before opening the door, pushing the heart monitor through it, and immediately closing it. 
There was a shout, the sound of feet running towards the room, and more gunshots. The man quickly closed the door again before he or Bilbo could get hit before moving towards the outer door. 
“Go! I’ll cover you.”
Bilbo didn’t have to be told twice as he raced for the stairwell hoping to find safety from this nightmare. He felt the bullets whizzing by before he heard them, and was definitely aware of the man returning fire as he followed after him.
“Only three!?” Bilbo complained throwing himself down the stairs.
“So maybe four!”
They went down a floor, but rather than keep going, the man shoved them into the door for the ER. It was utter chaos as doctors and nurses were trying to secure and placate patients and guests alike. 
“This way.” The man urged, pushing Bilbo through the throng of people trying to get out. 
They found a break room and shoved their way inside. 
“Are we just going to wait here until the police get here?” Bilbo asked hopefully.
He could tell from the stern look he received that was not going to be the case. So what Bilbo was learning was this man had assassin level skills and didn’t trust the police. The situation he found himself in was looking bleaker by the second.
“Paramedic? Right?” The man questioned holding out a jacket with the hospital’s logo on it. 
Bilbo had a sneaking suspicion the plan the man had was going to get him in a heap of trouble. Sure enough, seconds later found him pushing a gurney through ER to the doors on the other side.
“Sir! Just where do you think you’re going?” Bilbo was stopped by a frantic nurse.
Bilbo flashed his ID. 
“Ma’am, this is a comatose patient of Dr. Greyham that can’t be off life support for more than twenty minutes. I’m supposed to get him in a bus and to Tuckborough Medical ASAP. Doctor’s orders.”
She hesitated before nodding, going as far as to call in the ambulance for him. Bilbo was going to have to remember how much he owed the staff at Hobbiton General another time. As soon as Bilbo had the man loaded up, he pulled away the sheet and climbed into the passenger seat next to Bilbo.
“Okay, you gun wielding, knitting needle stabbing manic! I have done everything you asked. I’m most likely going to lose my job for this if they don’t see fit to throw me behind bars. So you better have something you can give me or I’m pulling over at the next police precinct.”
The man grimaced. “I told you. I. Don’t. Remember. I just know they are the bad guys. And they want me dead.”
Bilbo gave a little sarcastic laugh and head tilt. “Oh, great.”
“There is one more thing.”
Bilbo slowly looked over at the man as much as he could without crashing the ambulance.
“It only started to kick in when you called me ‘Oakenshield’, but I was…protecting something…or someone.”
“That’s…vague.” Bilbo complained.
“But this…” The man sighed with impatience before pointing towards the pin on his chest. “Is the clue. It’s the coat of arms for the royal family of Erebor.”
“Erebor?! Like halfway across the world Erebor?”
“Really? Halfway across the world? Where exactly am I?”
Bilbo drew in a shaky breath starting to finally hit the point of ‘too much’. It’s funny. One would think that moment was…oh, about fifteen minutes ago with all the shooting. The other man seemed to realize it as well.
“Look, I’m sorry. You’ve been very kind to me and if you want me to…walk away, I wouldn’t blame you. I just feel like if I’m able to retrace my steps, I’ll find out what was so important it was literally worth dying over.”
“This isn’t a spy movie. You could just be patient and let the healing naturally take over.” Bilbo suggested with a huff.
“Judging by our friends back there, I don’t think I have that kind of time.”
Bilbo looked over at the man one more time. That lost look that has been in his eyes since the moment he woke up was still there. And despite everything he’s seen, everything he’s experienced that should have him running for the hills, Bilbo really wanted to believe him. And help him if he could.
“Alright.” He sighed. “I’ll show you the alley where I picked you up. But after that, I’m done. And if I get picked up and questioned by the cops, I’m telling them the truth!”
“Fair enough.” The man shrugged. “But could you do me one more favor?”
Bilbo raised an eyebrow.
“Could you stitch this bullet wound in my side?”
Bilbo cursed at the red staining the man’s dark shirt as he pulled over to the side of the road. 
“I expect to be billed for all the times I have to play ‘personal physician’ because I can’t imagine this being the last time.” He complained.
The man let out a roaring laugh that had Bilbo’s cheeks warming all the way to the tips of his ears. This was very not good. It was bad enough when he had a crush on his comatose patient. He had no idea how to handle falling for this bodyguard/assassin/psychopath. Jury was certainly still out on which one he may turn out to be.
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atimeofyourlife · 7 months
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Whumptober day 26
rated: t | wc: 691 | prompt: Seeing Double | Working To Exhaustion | “You look awful.” Steve working himself until he collapses from exahustion post s4
Steve felt lost after the first battle with Vecna. He felt helpless against everything that was thrown at the group. So he threw himself into anything and everything that he could, taking as little time to himself as possible. It started with the volunteering. Family Video was shut for a couple of weeks for repairs to the minor damage that had happened, so he didn't have any work to do. So everyday he was at the school, offering any help that was needed. It was repetitive, mind-numbing work, but it was something to keep him busy.
It wasn't enough. The days at the school were almost too easy. Just standing behind a table, folding and sorting donated clothes. So he offered to help fix up Hopper's cabin once he was done with volunteering. Something a bit more physical to help wear him out. And he knew they needed all hands on deck to make the cabin properly habitable for at least five people, as well as how it was almost becoming a hub of activity for making plans for what would happen next. Steve might not have known much about property repair, but he was pretty good at following instructions and at being the muscle, lifting and carrying the heaviest items to where they needed to be. It helped to wear him out, but it still didn't feel like enough. He still needed to be doing more.
As soon as Max and Eddie were cleared for more visitors, he started spending time at the hospital with them. When the others thought he'd gone home to sleep. He would sit by their beds for as long as he could without anyone else coming in. Trying to reassure himself that they were going to be okay. He tried to formulate plans in his head, on where they could go after they were discharged. As long as his parents stayed away, they could stay with him. But he knew there would need to be some adjustments needed on the house to make it suitable for them. And he wasn't sure if he could manage it, or even if he could, if his parents would accept him making such alterations to their property.
Then Family Video reopened. Steve took on as many shifts as he could around volunteering, helping fix the cabin, and visiting the hospital. And there were plenty of shifts to go around considering most of the staff had vacated Hawkins after the earthquake. They were operating on a staff of three, so even with reduced opening hours it kept them all busy. Even with everything he had taken on, Steve still felt like he could be doing more. No matter how tired he was starting to feel, he needed to make sure he was doing everything he could to help.
Once the patrols were established, Steve was one of the first to sign up. Hoping that would make him feel more fulfilled. He was running on very little sleep, rarely getting more than an hour or two a night. The patrols pushed his body to the edge, spending hours almost everyday wandering around Hawkins. Checking the gates for activity, checking the woods for decay, checking everywhere for creatures that should not be there. He was really starting to feel the effects of all he was putting his body through, but he didn't know how to stop.
Until a planning meeting. He'd been busy for the whole day before, the he'd been out at three am for a patrol, then he spent a few hours at the school helping with the volunteer efforts, and then he had a four hour shift at Family Video. He was dead on his feet by the time he walked in the door of the cabin, but did his best not to let it show. He could follow the conversation at first, but soon everyone's voices blurred into a dull mumble. His vision went blurry, and it felt like the room was spinning. He tried to move to a chair, but his limbs felt heavy and uncooperative. And then everything went blank as his body hit the floor.
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satashiiwrites · 3 months
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Snippet Sunday
working on stuff for the week ahead…. And a bit further.
Tagging with no pressure @quietborderline @monsterrae1 @elisela @whimsyswastry @missanniewhimsy @outtoshatter @tkwritesdumbassassins @westernlarch @rosieposiepuddingnpie
Banner by radio chatter.
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From: Choices and Regrets (probably chapter 11, could be 12 depending on how distracted the muse gets when filling in scenes)
Fandoms: 911, Dark Matter (Blake Crouch novel/tv series)
Pairings: Buddie
Tags/warnings: not quite a fusion of the source material. Multiverse hoping, multiple versions of people/doppelgangers, character death (not our version of Buck or Eddie or Chris), stolen identities, mistaken identity
Fic summary:
If you could go back and change the choices in your life, would you? Would you love the same people, go on the same vacations, have the same career? Or would you have regrets? After the lightning strike, an unexpected visitor makes Buck question all the choices he’s ever made. From dropping out of the Seals to never making a move on Eddie because the time hasn’t been right. He’s going to get an up close and personal look at what could have been because another version of Buck is focused on taking his choices away from him—including Eddie and Christopher Diaz.
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Eddie pulls him in close.  “I need to know what you feel like,” he confesses. 
“What?”
“What you—my Buck—feel like.  He.. it was wrong.  All wrong.  I need to know,” Eddie’s words are pressed, his tongue tripping over them as he pleads with Buck.  
“Eds, I’ll give you whatever you need,” Buck promises, finders curling around where they’ve fallen automatically to Eddie’s hips and finding the crease of muscle.
“Please,” Eddie says again but it’s against Buck’s lips and then they’re kissing and it’s everything Buck has ever wanted. Eddie is like a live wire underneath him, electric and heat that spreads through Buck’s body. The hand that had been holding Buck’s shoulder now tangles its fingers in his hair as Eddie takes everything Buck has to give, tongues dueling as they taste each other until they have to part to breathe, both whimpering and diving right back into the other after a sharp inhale. 
Buck can’t get enough—can’t bear anything between them—and neither can Eddie.  Shirts are pulled untucked, belts undone and underwear and jeans shoved down. Somehow, Eddie loses enough clothing so he can wrap his legs around Buck’s waist, bringing their hard cocks into direct contact. 
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ejzah · 8 months
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A/N: Based on a few responses in favor of it, I decided to go ahead and write a little epilogue for this fic. Hope you enjoy!
***
An Error in Judgment, Epilogue
Apparently incurring septicemia in the course of fieldwork tended to scare people. Deeks was granted a full four weeks of medical leave, after he was released from the hospital. The first week or so wasn’t much fun, but once his wounds and the infection began to dissipate, and his energy returned, it was almost like a paid vacation. Aside from the frequent doctor appointments.
He’d had a multitude of visitors in that time, including all of the team. Eric and Nell had come bearing a massive gift basket, balloons, and tickets to a show Deeks had wanted to see. Roberta’s visits were fraught with varying levels of hysteria and overwhelming mothering. Even Kilbride dropped but one day for a very awkward encounter.
While he hadn’t enjoyed the first part of the whole endeavor, he was healthy again and nearly back to normal. More importantly, he felt more secure in his abilities and position with NCIS than he had in years.
Now exactly four weeks and six days after he’d collapsed, Deeks walked into the bullpen, Kensi by his side. There were met by the entire team, and a variety of greetings. Based on Kensi’s smirk, she’d had forewarning about this little get together.
Deeks had just enough time to register that was back before she rushed toward him. He bent down for a hug, her arms tight around his back.
“You are not allowed to get hurt while I’m gone again,” she ordered, giving him an extra squeeze. “I’m glad you’re back.”
“Me too.”
“Looking nice and tan there,” Sam commented when Deeks and Nell parted. He pulled him in for a one-armed hug.
“Hey, I hear sun’s supposed to be good for your health. Vitamin D and all that,” Deeks said with a grin.
Sam snorted. “Right. You spent every day in the ocean, didn’t you?”
“Oh, he tried,” Kensi divulged. “I had to remind him he was recovering from a major infection.”
“You are looking a little skinny,” Callen said helpfully. “Way better than the last time I saw you, though.”
“Thanks, man. I missed you too.”
“I can get you back to fighting weight,” Sam said, the offer somehow slightly menacing.
“Well, I think you look great,” Eric said from his perch on the edge of Kensi’s desk.
“I’m feeling pretty good. Thanks for everything you’ve done while I’ve been out. The visits, the food. The life-size CHIPs poster.” Deeks nodded at Eric for the last. “I’ve really appreciated it.”
“Like we’d let you languish at home,” Fatima said, getting to her feet. “Now, c’mon and get some cake.”
“Cake?” Deeks repeated, vaguely bemused.
“Yeah, we wanted to celebrate your return,” Rountree explained. “Do you want banana, chocolate, or vanilla?”
As the discussion of cake flavors continued, Nell taking charge of the cutting of said cake, Callen intercepted Deeks, and wordlessly handed him a coffee.
A few minutes later, they all had plates with slices of cake covered in a thick coating of red and blue icing.
“Well, well, well, so the conquering hero returns,” Kilbride drawled, strolling into the bullpen, hands tucked into his pants pockets as he eyed the cake.
“Admiral,” Deeks said.
“Morning Sir, would you like a piece?” Fatima offered, managing to keep a straight face somehow as she held out a slice of garishly covered cake. From what Deeks had gleaned, she’d been a little frosty towards Kilbride since Deeks’ collapse.
“No thank you, Agent Namazi. We have a new case, so I suggest you all finish up this little get together and head upstairs,” Kilbride said.
“We’ll be right up,” Callen said.
“Good.” Kilbride started to walk away then paused, turning back around. “It’s good to have you back, Deeks. You were missed.” He caught Deeks’ eye with a knowing, measured look. Deeks returned it was a single nod. Then Kilbride was off again, grumbling under his breath.
“Ok, what the hell was that?” Nell wondered loudly once Kilbride was out of earshot. “Did he just give you a death glare?”
“No. When I was in the hospital, Kilbride and I had a discussion. I guess you could say we’ve reached a new stage in our relationship.
“What does that mean?” Kensi asked.
“Progress,” Deeks said, tugging Kensi into his side.
***
A/N: Two years after starting it, this story is officially done. Thanks so much to everyone who has stuck with it, offered their thoughts and comments, and been so supportive.
On to the next story!
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i-myeoni-blogs · 2 months
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Part 2
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Pairing - Non-idol Wooyoung x Reader
Chapter Summary - Wooyoung's life got flipped upside down by one government notice and the ensuing phone call. He'd only been away for a couple of days, and now Y/N was nowhere to be found. Why did they disappear? And where could they have gone? How was he supposed to track them down? They were supposed to build a life together, and start a family together—that was the promise he made. But now, it all felt like a distant dream because once again, he found himself without Y/N.
The blaring alarm clock shattered the silence of the empty house, jolting Wooyoung from his sleep. He looked like he hadn't slept at all, with his disheveled hair and dark circles under his eyes. His shirt was half unbuttoned, and he was soaked in sweat as if he'd been through a marathon in his dreams.
With a sharp intake of breath, he snapped awake, his heart racing. He glanced at the alarm clock with a mix of frustration and despair, silencing it with a heavy hand. Rubbing his face vigorously, he tried to shake off the exhaustion clinging to him like a heavy cloak. All he wanted was some rest, but how could he even think of sleeping when Y/N and their daughter had been missing for two agonizing weeks?
"Broken" didn't even begin to describe the shattered pieces of his soul. With a determined sigh, he pushed himself out of bed and stumbled towards the bathroom.
If you asked Wooyoung how he was feeling two weeks back, he'd probably have said he was feeling a mix of love and contentment. He had this big plan in mind - taking Y/N and Grace back to his home in Seoul, proposing to Y/N with this stunning ring he picked out himself. That ring? It was always close to his heart, quite literally, hanging around his neck like a pendant. Finally finding happiness after five long years since he reunited with Y/N, those memories painted his dreams with bright colors. But every time he woke up, reality hit hard - they weren't there with him.
Just a month, that's all the time he got with Y/N and Grace before they vanished. Or to be precise, they were taken away. It's this messed-up rumor about some government order to incapacitate the immigrants who weren't just tourists.
Government Order
To Whom It May Concern,
Subject: Implementation of Measures Regarding Illegal Settlements in South Korea
In light of recent events, and in response to the concerning incidents occurring in our regions, the Government of South Korea has taken a decisive stance on the matter of illegal immigrant settlements. Effective immediately, we hereby issue the following order:
Illegal immigrants settled, excluding tourists with valid visas, are to be apprehended and detained by law enforcement authorities.
This measure is undertaken to prevent further instances of recklessness and misconduct witnessed on September 20th, wherein a girl fell victim to exploitation by certain individuals residing illegally in our territory. Additionally, substantial damage to property was incurred as a result of their actions.
The government emphasizes the importance of upholding the rule of law and safeguarding the welfare and security of all residents and visitors within our borders. Any individuals found to be in violation of immigration laws will be subject to appropriate legal action.
We urge all citizens and residents to cooperate with law enforcement agencies in identifying and reporting instances of illegal settlement and related criminal activities.
These measures shall remain in effect until further notice.
The Government of South Korea remains committed to ensuring the safety and prosperity of our nation and its people. By enforcing these regulations, we aim to uphold the integrity of our borders and maintain social order.
Thank you for your attention to this matter.
Sincerely
Wooyoung still vividly recalled the day he received the letter from the government. It was a chilly afternoon in Seoul, the remnants of his recent vacation to Jeju still lingering in his mind. During his time there, he cherished every moment with Grace and Y/N, relishing the opportunity to make up for the lost years. However, he knew all too well that one month couldn't possibly compensate for the five years that had slipped away.
With plans to bring Y/N and Grace back to Seoul, Wooyoung had returned ahead of them to ensure everything was perfect upon their arrival. He wanted to create a warm and welcoming environment, a place they could finally call home. Little did he know that this decision would mark the last time he laid eyes on them before they vanished without a trace.
The memory of their faces haunted him—Y/N's gentle smile and Grace's hopeful gaze etched in his mind. He couldn't shake the feeling of regret that gnawed at him, wishing he had stayed by their side or even whisked them away with him to Seoul. But alas, the future remained elusive, and hindsight offered no solace. If only he could have predicted what lay ahead.
"Would you like us to come with you? I'm well aware of the state of your room, and Grace... well, she's as messy as you, after all, she's your daughter," Y/N suggested as Wooyoung busied himself with packing his bag for the trip back to Seoul. He needed to attend to a few arrangements to properly welcome Y/N and Grace. Wooyoung had been staying at Y/N's spacious home since he found them. His vacation was coming to an end, and September was almost over, with just two days remaining.
He expressed his desire to celebrate Grace's birthday in Seoul and to introduce Y/N and Grace to his department. He wanted everything to be perfect.
"No, I want to welcome my ladies perfectly," Wooyoung asserted as he dropped his bag on the couch and approached Y/N, who cradled Grace in her arms. With tenderness, he cupped Y/N’s cheeks, his eyes reflecting determination laced with love, commitment, and an unspoken promise. "I’ll be back in two days, and then I’ll take you both," he murmured softly, his thumb grazing Y/N’s cheeks. Though tears threatened to spill from both their eyes, they refused to let them fall. Y/N nodded gently, surrendering to the warmth of his touch.
A soft smile curved Wooyoung’s lips; the realization that he would soon be with Y/N, and now with his daughter too, filled him with joy. He glanced at Grace, tears shimmering in her eyes as she pouted, her innocence tugging at his heartstrings. She looked so adorable that he yearned to squeeze her cheeks endlessly. "I’ll be back in no time, princess," he assured her, gently bopping her nose.
"I'll miss you," Grace whispered, her voice trembling with tears, as she reached out her arms toward Wooyoung, silently pleading to be lifted by him. Wooyoung, with a gentle smile, gladly scooped her up, holding her close and pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. "I'll miss you more," he whispered softly.
"Okay, Grace, let daddy go so he can come back soon," Y/N chimed in, her voice attempting to lighten the heavy atmosphere that lingered, especially challenging after five years of separation. Wooyoung gently set Grace down, and she clung to Y/N's finger, ready to bid farewell to Wooyoung. Reluctantly, Wooyoung grabbed his bag, preparing to depart, when Y/N caught hold of his hand, her gaze downcast, almost as if she feared meeting his eyes. A rush of warmth flooded Wooyoung, his heart quickening its pace. Y/N had held his hand before, but each time, it stirred butterflies within him whenever they were close.
"Come back soon," Y/N whispered, her voice barely audible. Wooyoung turned to face her, gripping her hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Please," she added, her expression tugging at his heartstrings. The last time Wooyoung had seen such vulnerability on her face was when he had ended their relationship. Without hesitation, he pulled her into a tender kiss, their lips fitting together perfectly like a completed puzzle, before enveloping her in a tight embrace, tears welling in his eyes.
"I promise to come back to you," he whispered, his voice filled with sincerity and longing.
Pushing aside both beautiful and painful memories, Wooyoung embarked on his venture to locate Y/N and Grace. Currently, he found himself seated in the office of the Commissioner General, seeking insights into the recent implementation of the controversially localized immigrant capture rule. It was on the 28th of September when he first received the official notification about this matter. While the directive seemed straightforward—capturing illegally residing immigrants within South Korea—a perplexing question lingered: why were individuals with permanent residence status, like Y/N and Grace, being apprehended, notably from a place like Jeju?
"Superintendent General Wooyoung, I understand your concern," the Commissioner General began, his tone composed despite the weight of the situation, "but rest assured, all illegally residing immigrants have been detained for either deportation or incarceration. I can confirm that neither Y/N nor Grace is among them."
Listening intently, Wooyoung's jaw clenched as he absorbed the Commissioner's words. Despite his efforts and the official reassurance, he remained clueless about the whereabouts of Y/N and Grace. His tension palpable, the Commissioner, observing Wooyoung's demeanor, offered a sympathetic insight.
"Wooyoung, I understand your frustration," the Commissioner said, his voice softening slightly. "However, it's essential to recognize that as law enforcement officers, even with our esteemed positions, there are limitations to our authority, especially when it comes to governmental matters."
With a nod, Wooyoung acknowledged the Commissioner's explanation, though the knot of worry in his stomach remained firmly in place. He couldn't shake off the gnawing sense of helplessness, realizing that despite his rank and determination, some obstacles remained beyond his control.
"Could you clarify?" Wooyoung's voice was tinged with concern as he sought understanding from the commissioner.
The commissioner hesitated for a moment, his gaze shifting before he responded, his words laden with gravity. "There are individuals among the immigrant population who not only reside here unlawfully but are also deeply entrenched in illicit underworld activities. These individuals... they are currently held in confinement under the jurisdiction of the National Intelligence Services."
Wooyoung's eyes widened in shock as he absorbed the implications of the commissioner's words. "But...," he began, his mind racing with questions and fears.
Before he could voice his concerns, the commissioner interjected, his tone grave yet resolute. "I'm not suggesting that Y/N and Grace are among them, but..." Another pause, heavy with unspoken implications. "I will arrange for you to review the list of detainees or perhaps even visit the facility, although I must caution you, it's an exceedingly difficult endeavor."
It has already been two weeks, and the whereabouts of Y/N and Grace remain a mystery. Despite efforts, an FIR was fruitless in uncovering any leads, leaving both the police departments in Jeju and Seoul at a loss.
In the midst of this turmoil, Wooyoung took decisive action, ensuring the case landed in the hands of the National Police Agency's Criminal Investigation Bureau (CIB). He couldn't afford to leave anything to chance, his frustration mounting with each passing day of uncertainty. The Commissioner General offered a glimmer of hope, promising to arrange a visit to the National Intelligence Service (NIS). Though fearful, Wooyoung clung to this possibility, patiently awaiting the green light.
With the involvement of the CIB, the search intensified. They combed through the house meticulously, scrutinizing every detail for clues. CCTV footage near the residence and in possible areas Y/N and Grace might have ventured was scrutinized, hoping to catch a glimpse that could shed light on their disappearance.
Gratefully, the nurse, who happened to be a close friend of Y/N, provided invaluable assistance during this troubling time. Recounting the events of that fateful day when Y/N and Grace disappeared, she revealed crucial details. According to her, the individuals who arrived appeared to be part of a specialized unit, their faces obscured by masks, giving off an air of governmental authority. They swiftly whisked Y/N and Grace away in ominous black vans, leaving behind an unsettling void.
"Every time I think back on it," Miss Kim admitted, her voice carrying a weight of worry, "it's like I'm watching the same haunting movie over and over again." She recounted the scene with a hint of unease etched in her tone. "I went to their place, you know, just to catch up, but when I got there, the front door stood wide open, like an ominous invitation." Pausing, she couldn't help but relive the tension of that moment. "I kept calling out to Y/N, hoping for a reassuring answer, but silence hung heavy in the air, gnawing at my nerves with each unanswered ring. As I stepped inside, the emptiness of the rooms sent a shiver down my spine. It felt like a scene from a nightmare." She swallowed hard, grappling with the lingering fear. "There were no signs of a break-in, no clues except for a chilling note left behind on the desk, hinting at something about illegal migration."
Her words hung heavily in the air, conveying the gravity of the situation. "Without hesitation, I contacted Wooyoung." She sighed softly, her gaze drifting to where Wooyoung stood silently in the cramped confines of the interrogation room. Across from her, Mr. Yunho, the head of the Criminal Investigation Bureau, meticulously combed through every detail of the case. Despite Miss Kim's valuable insights, they still found themselves at a dead end in tracing those who masqueraded as government officials.
The vans they employed had been discovered near a serene lake, meticulously scrubbed clean to erase any evidence of their previous use. Even the vehicle's license plate had been removed, thwarting any attempts to track them through official channels. Surveillance footage offered little assistance, capturing only the vehicles' outward journey toward the lake, with no glimpse inside and no witnesses to shed light on their activities.
Yunho's frustration was palpable as he sighed heavily, realizing that their current approach was futile. It was time to delve deeper into the heart of the matter. With a determined expression, he posed his next question. "Miss Kim, could you please share your relationship with Y/N and Grace? We understand that Y/N moved to Jeju five years ago. Were you acquainted with her before that time?"
"No, I'm merely a nurse, and she was my patient. That was the extent of our relationship when she first visited our hospital," Miss Kim replied, a soft smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she reminisced about the encounter with Y/N five years prior. Wooyoung, listening intently, realized he had never inquired about the friendship between Y/N and Miss Kim, sparking his curiosity.
It was a rainy day, the kind where even a short walk could leave one thoroughly soaked. "Reason for your visit?" the receptionist inquired as Y/N entered the hospital.
"I moved here a week ago, and I don’t know any doctors in the area. If you could help me, see a gynecologist, I'm already 5.5 months into my pregnancy," Y/N had murmured softly, prompting a surprised expression from the receptionist.
"Okay, you can pay the visitation fee and fill out this form. I'll arrange for you to see a gynecologist," the receptionist instructed, handing Y/N the necessary paperwork. Y/N's baby bump was already noticeable under the loose dress she wore as she patiently filled out the form in the waiting area. Y/N gracefully handed over the form and tendered the visitation fee, a quiet thank you escaping her lips as she did so. The receptionist, her eyes scanning the form, acknowledged her with a warm smile. "Mrs. Jung Y/N," she read aloud, "Mr. Park will be available shortly. Please, have a seat in the OPD area over there," she gestured toward a corner furnished with plush, inviting chairs.
With a nod of gratitude, Y/N made her way to one of the chairs, her hands betraying her nerves as they fidgeted anxiously. She gently placed one hand over her belly, a protective gesture as though guarding something precious. Time seemed to stretch as she waited, each passing moment amplifying her apprehension.
Finally, the receptionist's voice broke the silence. "Mrs. Jung, Dr. Park is ready to see you now. His office is at the end of the corridor, the last door on your right." Y/N murmured her thanks and turned to leave, but before she could, the receptionist inquired, "Is anyone accompanying you today?"
A subtle shake of her head was Y/N's response, her lips forming a tight line as she made her way down the corridor, a lone figure navigating the maze of hospital halls.
"May I have a look at your file?" asked the nurse stationed outside Dr. Park's cabin as Y/N approached. Without a word, Y/N handed over the file, her gaze fixed anxiously on the nurse's face. "Ah, a new visit," the nurse remarked, flipping through the pages. "Any previous reports?"
Y/N shook her head, her expression a mixture of resignation and hope. "That's alright," the nurse reassured her with a gentle smile. "You're fortunate; the clinic isn't too busy today, especially with the rain. Please, come inside." Her tone was kind, a balm to Y/N's frayed nerves.
"Thank you," Y/N murmured, her eyes briefly flickering to the name tag pinned to the nurse's shirt, which bore the name "Miss Kim." With a faint smile, she followed the nurse into the doctor's office.
"Hello, Mrs. Jung," Dr. Park greeted warmly, his gaze shifting briefly to the general information in the file before him. He possessed an otherworldly beauty as if his features had been meticulously selected from the heavens themselves. Behind his glasses, which complemented his striking appearance, there was an air of professionalism and compassion. "Who attended to you previously? Can I review your past reports before we proceed with your examination?" he inquired.
"Actually, no one," Y/N replied. "I discovered I was pregnant almost into my third month. It was quite a surprise for me. I had been experiencing what I thought were normal periods—I did miss one, but I didn't think much of it. Then, during a routine checkup, I learned I was pregnant."
Dr. Park nodded thoughtfully. "It could have been due to implantation bleeding, although that typically occurs earlier in pregnancy. Why did you delay seeking medical attention after finding out?"
"I've always had irregular periods, and those three months were particularly stressful," Y/N explained.
Understanding her situation, Dr. Park motioned for her to lie down on the examination bed while Nurse Miss Kim offered reassurance and assistance. As he conducted a routine cervical examination, Dr. Park gently inquired about Y/N's family situation. "Do you have a husband or any family members with you?"
"I'm alone," Y/N replied softly, her voice tinged with sadness. Sensing her discomfort, Dr. Park didn't press further.
"Thus far, everything appears to be in order," Dr. Park said reassuringly. "However, during pregnancy, it's common for women to experience fluctuations in their vitals. I'll be prescribing some tonics and vitamins for you, as well as scheduling an ultrasound for tomorrow, as our ultrasound specialist is not available today. Miss Kim, please assist her with the appointments and prescriptions."
Miss Kim politely nodded and led Y/N outside the cabin, murmuring, "Don't be scared, he looks serious but from the inside, he's like toothless."
"I can hear you, Miss Kim," Dr. Park remarked, earning a chuckle from both Miss Kim and Y/N.
Since then, their friendship has blossomed. Miss Kim always regarded Y/N as her younger sister, someone she needed to support. And support her she did. Miss Kim helped Y/N with everything, starting from finding a suitable house to live into organizing her appointments and clothes shopping for the upcoming baby. She was the first person beside Y/N to hear the heartbeat of the baby and to know that it was a little princess. As the baby developed happily, the sadness that had engulfed Y/N seemed to dissipate like dark clouds. She had found an elder sister in Miss Kim, and she was content with her job at a publishing company that primarily worked on children's books. Although Y/N missed her old work, with all its crime articles, everything was different now. She couldn't delve into crime scenes with a baby on the way. Occasionally, Y/N would find herself lost in her thoughts, crying uncontrollably for hours. Despite the happiness she found in her life, there was a part of her heart that longed for Wooyoung. She would talk about him to Miss Kim, often crying on her shoulder. Her emotional state became a bit overwhelming, and she had to resort to taking anti-panic pills.
"Although the baby was developing healthily, Y/N's state became unstable during delivery," Miss Kim explained with a somber tone. "She experienced a panic attack, rendering her uncontrollable for her own safety and that of the baby. We had no choice but to perform a C-section."
As Miss Kim relayed the events, Wooyoung's expression remained inscrutable. Despite his efforts to maintain composure, his eyes betrayed the turmoil within. Y/N had always stood by him through every trial, but in her most vulnerable moment, he found himself absent. Now, as uncertainty loomed over her whereabouts, he couldn't shake the weight of his absence and the regret it brought.
"Even after the delivery," Miss Kim continued, her voice heavy with concern, "Y/N struggled with depression. I had to step in to take care of everything. She was alone, with no one beside her to provide comfort. My shifts made it impossible for me to be with her around the clock. It was an incredibly trying time for her."
With a final glance toward Wooyoung, Miss Kim's eyes bore into his, conveying a mix of understanding and reproach. Wooyoung, unable to meet her gaze, felt the weight of guilt press down upon him even more heavily than before.
"Thank you, Miss Kim; your assistance has been invaluable to us. You are dismissed for now, but rest assured, we'll reach out if further assistance is required," Yunho courteously advised, expressing gratitude for Miss Kim's contribution. However, their exchange was momentarily interrupted by the sudden appearance of one of Yunho's juniors, who had been diligently working on Y/N's case.
The young colleague approached Yunho, leaning in slightly to convey a message discreetly. Yunho received the whispered communication with a nod of understanding, his expression morphing into one of approval. "Good work, Jeongin," he commended warmly, a smile gracing his lips.
Part 3
Just a quick heads-up: the story is purely fictional. None of it has anything to do with real events or people. We whipped up all the details just for your entertainment. And hey, we want to make it crystal clear – there's no intention to step on anyone's toes, nationalities, or personal sentiments here. So sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride! Thanks for understanding.
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loiladadiani · 10 months
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Photographs: 1. The exterior of the Mariinsky as it looks today; 2. A view of the facade; 3. The lobby; 4. A view of the orchestra and of the "Royal Box" which was in fact used by the Tsar only when there was visiting Royalty from other countries, etc. in attendance; 5. The "Royal Box" as seen from the stage; 6. The stage as seen from the "Royal Box" (notice the decorated ceiling and lamp); 7. Another view of the stage. 8. Notice the box next to the stage; that was the Tsar's real box - that was where he sat when he attended a performance with his family; 9. Another view of the Tsar's box next to the stage
"The Season" at Saint Petersburg, the Tsars and the Mariinsky Theater
Those interested in Romanov history and how the members of the dynasty lived know that "The Season," the ballet, opera, balls, etc., were an important part of their personal and political lives. So important, that one of the many factors contributing to the fall of Nicholas II might have been his withdrawal from the social activities "The Season" entailed.
"The Season" in St. Petersburg began in the last two weeks of September. The nobility returned from their vacation in their country dachas at the end of October, at the same time as the Tsar and his family. The most brilliant part of the Season took place during this time, and long-term visitors reported the city looked most brilliant and glorious during this exciting time of gala court balls, festivals, and masquerades.
All of this revolved around the person on the Tsar, who was the most important host, guest, and critic. Nicholas I attended the theater almost every day during the Season. This pattern continued until the reign of Alexander III, when he began to cut back his attendance. His son Nicholas loved the theater (he wrote in his diary that nothing moved him more than music), and as Tsarevich, he attended operas, ballets, plays, and concerts as often as he could. After he married, his wife's frequent pregnancies and illnesses increasingly cut into his attendance. In 1900 the Imperial couple was still attending concerts and performances in the city. Still, they were becoming fewer and fewer each year.
At the center of much of Saint Petersburg's entertainment life was the famous Mariinsky Theatre. Today, it still plays a significant role in Russia's cultural life. The Mariinsky underwent several rebuildings over the years. The luxurious building went up in 1860. In 1883 it was extensively remodeled, and more decoration was added to the facade. The Mariinsky was the center of the famous Imperial Ballet and Opera, home to many of the most famous performing artists of the last 100 years.
Many of the names of these stars are legendary - Nijinsky, Karsavina, Pavlova, Kschessinska, Chaliapin, Petipa, and many others. The artists of the Imperial theatre and the upkeep of its facilities were the responsibility of the Tsar, and all of these costs came out of the annual revenues of the Imperial estates.
Tickets to the Mariinsky were hard to get. Most of them were pre-assigned to subscribers who held their seats for life; when Prince Felix Yussupov married the Tsar's niece, Irina, the Tsar asked him what he wanted as a wedding present. Yussupov, a fan of the performing arts, asked for the right to use the Tsar's box at the theater when he was away - which was a gift beyond price. His request surprised and amused the Tsar, who granted it. The Tsar's private box was on the left-hand side of the Mariinsky stage. It had an incredibly intimate view of the stage, a dining room, and its own elegant bathroom. It also had a private entrance to the building and a staircase.
The Mariinsky Theatre invariably began the Season with A Life for the Tsar, a patriotic opera. The ballet opened on the first Sunday of September, the company having assembled two weeks before.
The competition for seats and the right to subscribe proved the interest it aroused. A petition to the Chancery of the Imperial Theatres had to be filed to obtain a seat; the chance of success was so small that advertisements constantly offered big premiums to the original holders of the stalls. Fathers handed their seats down to their sons. There may have been personal motives in the attachment of some to the ballet, but the cult of this delicate art was always uppermost. (gcl)
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