#I borrowed my person's drawing pad | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

danisakay · 10 months ago

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The iPad Kid In Question

In today's generation, the concept of "iPad kids" has gained popularity as a meme and cultural reference. It represents a generation of youngsters who have grown up surrounded by technology, specifically tablets like the iPad. It was an ongoing meme that can be coined as an insult that led me to deny that I am not an iPad kid. However, with how I deal with everyday life, I’ve realized that I cannot live without it. The iPad has played an important role in my life, especially in my academics and leisure activities.

Do I need my traditional nursing books? No, I have already downloaded them to my note-taking app (Goodnotes). I do not need to bring my thick nursing books to school because I have everything downloaded on my iPad. Do I need to bring tons of notebooks or pad paper when note-taking during lectures? No, I do not need to because I have a handy dandy iPad with me when I go to school.

One of the most significant advantages of utilizing an iPad for taking notes is its portability. iPads are lightweight and compact, allowing me to easily carry them wherever I go. Whether in a classroom, group meeting, or coffee shop, the iPad offers a convenient device for taking notes on the go without the need for heavy notebooks or stacks of paper. iPads also save notes digitally, removing the need for physical storage and minimizing clutter. I do not need to be stressed whenever I cannot find a certain reviewer of mine that I need to use to study for a quiz the next day. Moreover, I can organize my notes into folders, categories, or tags, making it simple to find specific information quickly and therefore saving me time and effort.

Aside from note-taking and storing my books, I can access a lot more websites and apps that are needed for my academic requirements. Apps like Quizlet and Anki, which I use for reviewing, especially for active recall and spaced repetitions, allow me to create custom flashcards using text, graphics, music, and even mathematical equations that fit my learning style. They include multimedia features to improve my retention. These kinds of apps are really helpful for me since nursing is a course that demands a lot of memorization of different concepts. They are my lifesaver when memorizing key terms, medical terminology, anatomy, pharmacology, and other nursing concepts.

Canva is also an app that helps me survive school, and without it, my non-creative self cannot live in the academic realm wherein creativity is a required skill in creating and finishing schoolwork. The ready-made presentations, infographics, posters, and other forms of media help me meet school deadlines. I still tweak its design, but the fact that there is a template that I can use as a guide makes me more productive. Regardless of background or expertise, a person can create graphic designs using the straightforward drag-and-drop interface and pre-designed templates of Canva.

Another app that is helpful in terms of video editing because of how accessible it is and easy to navigate is Capcut. It is an app that both my iPad and phone can access, making video editing for school tasks easier than before. The interface is well-organized, with tools and features that are easy to access and use, allowing me to efficiently edit videos without being overwhelmed by complex settings. CapCut provides a comprehensive range of editing tools and features that allow me to modify and enhance videos based on my preferences and the requirements of my subjects. When I was in high school, I needed to borrow my mother’s laptop to edit in a built-in video editing app that was hard to navigate because of its technicality and complicated interface. But with this particular app, I can finish my work within a small amount of time, which I can say is perfect for a student who crams video-type projects.

Google apps like Google Meet, Google Slides, Sheets, Drawings, and most especially Google Docs, have made my life easier. With just having a Gmail account, I can access my documents on all of my devices. If I forget to add something to my document and I already closed my laptop, I can use my iPad or phone to add more information to my paper without the need to assemble my laptop, especially when I’m already lying down in bed ready to sleep. If there is an urgent need to revise my work but I’m out of the house and do not have my laptop with me, I can use my iPad or even my phone and edit it through the Google apps. With an Internet connection, these apps or websites bring convenience and accessibility wherever I go or whatever circumstances I have.

Google Docs, Sheets, and Slides also allow multiple users to work on the same document at once. This real-time collaboration function is especially useful for group projects, team meetings, and collaborative writing assignments. I can monitor changes and updates in real-time, thereby facilitating seamless communication and workflow efficiency. I also consider this a lifesaver to pinpoint my groupmates who have been neglecting group tasks and monitoring their contributions.

Moreover, the nerve-wracking experience of accidentally deleting one’s document is devastating and something I do not like to experience again. Google Apps are a lifesaver again in this aspect because they automatically save versions of documents, allowing me to track changes, return to previous versions, and discover who made specific modifications.

Last but not least, my favorite feature of the iPad is its size and how I can watch series and movies on a larger screen. I do not like the hassle of turning on my TV or my laptop, both of which I cannot bring to my bed whenever I need to rest. With the iPad, there is unlimited access to watching shows while lying comfortably in my bed. I have access to a vast library of movies, TV shows, documentaries, and original content, allowing me to explore a world of entertainment possibilities at any time and from any location. On top of that, I find it difficult to refrain from eating without watching something on my iPad. This behavior perfectly aligns with the concept of an 'iPad kid,' someone who eats while using their iPad. It is essential for me when I eat since if I do not distract myself through watching videos, I tend to eat too fast, therefore not being able to chew my food well.

Besides what I've mentioned above, the iPad's multitasking capabilities also enable me to view videos while also browsing the web, reading emails, or taking notes. Picture-in-Picture mode allows me to minimize the video player and continue watching content while using other programs, thereby increasing my productivity and multitasking effectiveness. I particularly enjoy this feature when I just need white noise or background noise whenever I need to finish something that does not require too much work or concentration. In addition, this feature is also useful whenever I need to write down notes during my online classes.

"my lifesaver"

My phone and laptop have features and strengths that I use depending on what I need, but my iPad is a mixture of them. With the help of my Apple Pencil, offers versatile features that make my life more productive. The iPad's combination of features and characteristics provides versatility and adaptation to various demands and preferences. Whether I use it for work, play, education, or creativity, the iPad is a versatile platform that adapts to my changing needs and lifestyle. At this point, I can say that I’ve already achieved a return on investment, or ROI, with my iPad.

A phrase that can describe the technology, in general, is ‘my lifesaver’. Throughout my narrative, I cannot count how many times I mentioned that phrase because indeed, these smart devices, digital services, and software applications offer convenience and accessibility that make life easier. They provide unprecedented convenience and accessibility in our daily lives. Whether it's ordering food online, booking transportation, or operating smart home gadgets with voice commands, technology makes tasks and routines easier, saving time and effort. As we manage the complicated aspects of modern life, technology is our constant friend, allowing us to prosper in an ever-changing digital landscape.

#expository writing #lifeandtechnology

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vapehk1 · 5 months ago

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ANYX Cobra Review: A Striking Snake Design Meets Unmatched Battery Life

ANYX recently showcased its commitment to advancing vape technology at WVS Dubai. Moving beyond the event, let’s delve into a comprehensive review of their groundbreaking new product just released, the unique pod system kit ANYX Cobra. This pod kit combines exceptional design with powerful functionality, catering to the discerning needs of vape enthusiasts globally. ANYX Cobra Key Specifications To better understand the ANYX Cobra, here's a quick overview of its standout features: Feature Specification Dimensions 63 mm x 19 mm x 139 mm Weight 110 grams Materials Zinc, PC + ABS Battery Capacity 1000 mAh Charging Type USB-C Pod Capacity 5 mL Coil Resistance Options 0.4Ω, 0.6Ω, 0.8Ω, and 1.2Ω Activation Type Auto-draw (with a unique 5-tap unlock system) Safety Features Over-voltage, over-current, short-circuit protections ANYX Cobra User Experience Aesthetics that Speak Volumes The ANYX Cobra pod kit boasts a design that immediately catches the eye, heavily inspired by the sleek, menacing grace of a cobra snake. This isn't just about good looks; the design directly influences how comfortable the device feels in your hand, making it easier to handle and use effectively. More comfortable in hand, and comfortable to vape on. I also personally see a resemblance in its curves to the elegant lines of a woman’s silhouette, perhaps like the graceful contours one might notice in a swimsuit model. This observation is purely my own interpretation, where the artistic elements of the design evoke both beauty and power, blending functionality with aesthetic appeal. This biomimetic approach — where design elements are borrowed from nature — doesn’t only enhance the visual appeal of the Cobra, but it also improves the tactile experience. It’s crafted to fit naturally in the curve of your hand, which reduces fatigue and makes it a pleasure to hold for long periods. The materials used are chosen not only for durability but also for their pleasant feel, ensuring that every touch is satisfying. Furthermore, this design philosophy extends to every aspect of the Cobra’s use. It’s designed to be user-friendly, from the way it fits in your palm to the simplicity of its operation. This makes it not just a tool for vaping but a part of the daily experience that you can enjoy seamlessly. The result is a product that looks stunning, feels great, and functions perfectly, whether you’re a beginner or a seasoned vaper. Unique Activation for Enhanced Safety Unlike typical pod systems, the ANYX Cobra takes a playful yet secure approach with a unique five-tap activation feature on the silicon pad around its USB-C port at the bottom of the device. This isn't just a party trick—it's an innovative step in responsibility. This clever design ensures the device stays child-proof, sort of like having a secret handshake with your vape. This added layer of security is something parents and caregivers will really appreciate, keeping the fun strictly adult-only! https://www.youtube.com/shorts/5xTvKvjqeeg?feature=share Performance That Matches Looks The ANYX Cobra isn't just a visual treat; it packs a performance punch that lives up to its striking appearance. It features a robust 1000mAh battery, a standout specification that ensures you can enjoy up to three days of vaping on a single charge, depending on usage intensity. This substantial battery capacity eliminates the frequent need for recharging, making the Cobra an excellent choice for vapers who prefer a low-maintenance device for continuous use throughout their day. The pod system of the Cobra is equally impressive, boasting a generous 5ml e-liquid capacity. This large pod size is a significant upgrade over standard pods, which typically offer much less volume, thus demanding more frequent refills. With the Cobra, you can vape longer and more freely without the interruption of constant refills, enhancing your vaping experience with sustained enjoyment. Furthermore, the Cobra is designed to cater to a wide range of vaping preferences thanks to its adjustable coil resistance options. It supports various resistances—0.4Ω, 0.6Ω, 0.8Ω, and 1.2Ω—allowing users to fine-tune their vaping experience to match their specific style. Whether you prefer a tight Mouth-to-Lung (MTL) draw that mimics the sensation of smoking a cigarette or enjoy the large, dense clouds associated with Direct-to-Lung (DTL) vaping, the Cobra’s flexible settings can accommodate your needs. Additionally, the device features a smoothly integrated airflow control that enhances its usability. This function allows you to adjust the flow of air with precision, enabling a customizable draw that can be as tight or as airy as you desire. The smooth control ensures that adjustments can be made effortlessly, providing an optimal balance of air intake with every puff to suit your preferred vaping style. Pros and Cons: A Balanced View Pros - Innovative biomimetic design for superior grip and aesthetic appeal. - High-capacity battery and pod, minimizing downtime. - Versatile vaping options to suit various preferences. - Advanced safety features, including a child-proof locking mechanism. Cons - The unique 5-tap activation might be cumbersome for some users. - Premium design might come at a higher cost compared to standard models. Final Thoughts: Is the ANYX Cobra Worth It? The ANYX Cobra is not just a pod system; it’s a statement of style, innovation, and safety. With its striking design, long-lasting battery, and large e-liquid capacity, it stands out in a crowded market. The unique safety feature of tap-to-unlock further sets it apart, emphasizing user security in a thoughtful way. For those looking for a blend of aesthetics, performance, and safety in their vaping experience, the ANYX Cobra is undoubtedly a top contender. Whether you're a seasoned vaper or new to the scene, the Cobra offers a compelling package that promises to enhance your vaping journey. Buy ANYX Cobra pod system from the official Read the full article

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burnyouwithacigarettelighter · 3 years ago

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part i, autonomy in your coherence | c.g

With something like time that runs round with the world — ignoring it’s inhabitants and stealing things that you’d hidden away for safekeeping — you’ve taken up the hobby of art, furiously sketching faces that are six-feet under.

The skill is beautiful and horrific all the same, watching like a person with amnesia as the portraits begin to lose their depth, the freshness, the personality that came free with who you’d chosen to print on the page.

You’ve forgotten your feelings for Carl, because he didn’t feel the same.

You just wished you did a better job at it.

WARNINGS: mentions of death, suicide ideation

this is a continuation of watch you burn away and i recommend you read that, first! this is also part of a series, so here is the masterlist if you need it!

(cross-posted on ao3!)

Your father once told you he had a patient that died from heartbreak.

“Your heart can’t really break, though, right?” You’d said. A doctor for a father and a laboratory technician for a mother made you more than aware of things, seeing through the myths and pretty white lies of figures like Santa and the tooth fairy.

(They had gone through with it anyway, because although their child knew, it was a gateway to normality in such a busy home.)

Your father scratched his chin, unsure how to respond. “My patient had died from a broken heart, though the process wasn’t as simple as it’s term name. A broken heart — the nonliteral meaning — can be the cause and the domino toppling to many things that could lead to death.”

“Like what?” You’d said with little admission into the conversation, having been flicking through a novel you’d picked up a while back (which featured a one eyed pirate and his partner who’d ended up dying in the end — not that you knew, yet, at least.)

“I don’t know, er,” Your father swirled his coffee lightly, gesturing wildly with his free hand, “Mental health issues, for one. Erratic actions, depression, a lost sense of self. Obsession.”

“Huh,” You muttered, looking up at your father for the first time. “A lost sense of self? Really?”

“What is your father teaching you?” Your mother said, stepping into the kitchen with a questioning expression. The conversation ended there, without so much as a thought after.

You wish you pried your father for further answers. What you’d give to get the workaholic of a man to dump his duo psychology medical major thoughts unto you with little care.

The knowledge would be gold in your time of need, when pulling and pushing distance further between you was like venturing through a field of thorns.

(Perhaps you just missed your parents. But that couldn’t be it, right? They’d died and you had lived, their blood on your hands and the gun in your fingers, their glazed over eyes and your own that nearly matched, cold and willing without a drop of emotion.)

But you’d gotten through it for him— without him. Without anyone, quietly harboring scratches and bleeding from the field with little effort.

If someone asked, you would tell them with full and honest confidence that you harboured no more attachments. You were a naive teenager, running through your feet and over yourself for something that was just a crush.

Crushes are — in their whole singularity and purpose — temporary.

They are brief, and momentarily something that causes ripples and waves in your thoughts, just the slightest mention or faint sight makes you detour down a road of sickly sweet dreams and fantasies.

He was first love (like? You didn’t love him, no, it was a crush and it was something for the unattainable and the inappropriate — in which with full truth, he was.) so you poured the honey glazed remembrances and rose coloured lenses over your memories, because he was a first love, and you know that those were cracks in the heart, growing vines and constricting the part that was him — the part that’d always, always be there, without a doubt.

(However much you didn’t want it to be.)

The leaves and the venomous flowers that sprout in decaying grooves come with age, and you are older now.

You bear fresh scars that litter your entire being and wear newly buried bones of people who were once not just that, the dirt still sitting in the crevices of your nails, and you seem to forget their voices with each passing day.

More and more, the faces look like reference art rather than a taken from life picture, which was all telling them to sit still and watching their eyes crinkle at the edges when you show them the result, voices echoing and asking if they could have it.

Everyday, as it has become a peevish habit like biting your nails or obsessively reminding yourself your stove is off, you draw pictures of everyone.

If you are close enough with them, you ask the subject to sit and model for you, analyzing every breath and laugh they take when you crack a joke or engage them in meaningless conversation just to see how the light hits their brows when they raise, the shadows pooling in their aging lines.

Everyday, you wish and hope and even fucking pray that their portraits continue to be something of anxious routine, rather than trying to dump their image out of your head and onto paper so you can see their faces one more time.

His image seems to change with each moment he sits in for you, once a face with two piercing blues, then a patch and eyes that looked at the dusty wooden floor, and later, someone who looks at you straight, something that told you he was a survivor, who bore his battles proudly, the scar on the right of his face sitting ruggedly and bewitchingly.

You draw him, exactly the way you see him, and when you show him the picture, he laughs, and says “You made me look too pretty,” and you shake your head, “It’s exactly the way I see you.”

You do her, too, upon request. When she sits, you draw her almost like it was professional, drawing the curvature of her face with exact precision, intense shading, marking the features she holds. The dip in her nose, the straight of her hair.

(You often forget who you’re drawing in these moments, and when you step away from the canvas you’re hit with whiplash. It’s subconscious, the way you do these things to please him, wanting to see so clearly how his face spreads delicately with delight.)

It takes a little while for you to convince Ron. When you first propose the drawing, he gives you a confused face, before walking off to do shooting practice. He’s gotten better with the gun over the years, and doesn’t respond when you tell him you know why.

(His mother didn’t come out of it alive, and his brother didn’t come back without harm. The younger boy was alive, but would grow up with only his brother by his side and one less limb to account for.)

The second time, he makes a snide comment, albeit with no bite, about how ‘you must be a horrible artist, to ask me of all people to model for you.’

The third time, you’ve dragged him to the small office you makeshifted for the drawings in the garage. He studies every slit of paper you’ve ripped out of your book, the unfinished sketches or yet-to-be painted canvases piling up against the walls. Complete works sit proudly on your wall, displayed for the world to see.

His hands hover over the paints sitting on your desk, charcoal, dirt, sticks, paintbrushes, handmade dyes, wallpaper cut-outs.

“Why?” Ron says curiously.

“‘Why?’ what?” You echo, fiddling with a fork you grabbed from the kitchen, splaying out a thick lather combination of beet dye and cement onto your finger to check the consistency.

“Why do you draw these portraits? I get the others because,” He says, leaving the words “because they’re dead” hanging in the air between you two in mutual and regretful acknowledgement, “But you draw these everyday. You drag Carl and Enid off, or just sit on the benches and draw Maggie and Glenn knee-deep in the dirt.”

You sigh a dreadful breath, wiping the rest of the beet-cement mix onto the page with the pad of your fore-finger. “We’ll forget them one day.”

He looks at you, unblinking. The dead, the gone, and the soon to be long forgotten only existed in your memories, in your words, and when the time came that the world had moved on and stopped, they would cease. Their whole memory relied on the living, nothing about them able to reach and grasp life on their own. Memory was all that was left, and it was all you could do to wash away regret.

“And the rest?”

You bite your tongue hesitantly, your movements rigid, “You see their portraits. Everyday they get less and less coherent. When — when time comes , these drawings will be the only thing getting me by.” You whispered.

The ball had dropped. Coping and grief in it’s big and ugly form, preying on your conscious hungrily, taking shelter in your largest worries. Claws sunken in your flesh, the monster was a thing that felt like it would never go away, because it would loom right alongside death itself, watching and waiting for the moment they’d deemed someones time to have been enough.

(It would never be enough. Enough meant they’d pop in from next door and ask to borrow something, enough meant they’d swipe dirt across your face to make you angry — enough meant they would come in everyday and sit for their portrait once more.)

A creaking on the floorboard caught your attention, eyes watching as Ron’s feet walk to the corner of the room, before hopping onto the wooden seat with little effort.

“I’m not going. I never will. But — do it anyway. I’d… like to see how I look on paper.” He said cheekily, picking up a thin pencil off your desk and handing it out to you.

So you did. Seconds turned to minutes and minutes snowballed into hours in the dim lighting of the garage, asking the blond to turn his body, stretch his head and make different expressions, fulfilling and destroying the little worm of worry sitting in your head.

When you’re done with the charcoal, turning it around for Ron to see and to inspect, he asks, “What about you?”

“And what about me?” You say. His questions never make sense without further discussion, but the boy always has to wait for you to pry and ask him to elaborate.

“You don’t have any drawings of yourself. You’re the artist, the photographer, the one who makes these things that will stay longer than the memories and the words — so what about you?”

It’s rare that Ron delves into his emotions and the things he really means, but when he does, it’s something that stays, for a long while.

“I,” You didn’t have an answer for it. You weren’t one to do a self-portrait, it not being the same as having someone to sit and take from. “I don’t want to.” You finished simply, an ice cold realization coming to reality in you.

“Why?” He says the same words as before, but the words hold a heavy weight.

“I don’t know.”

You knew.

Maybe one day, you’d wished that you’d wash away like seafoam on the beach. You wouldn’t leave a single portrait behind of you, and the memories and the words were left mum behind his lips, because you knew how he got in a loss.

Quiet and unfeeling, it was so selfish of you that you’d counted on how he got in that state to leave you behind, neglecting you like the fruits of your memories you’d never get to bear.

Ron’s gaze bore into you like he knew exactly what you were thinking, telepathically taking in every thought you’d conveyed at your dispense.

“You should.” Is all he says, before stepping off the wooden stool and out the door.

What was wrong with you? You feel so… entirely foolish. Obsolete. Embarrassing.

You walked past the remnants of those who were gone everyday, obsessively creating canvas over canvas of them and the only thing you could think was that you’d wish to position yourself beside them?

This world was catching up to you, and fast, but you’d just have to run faster than it could.

#twd #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes #chandler riggs #angst #the walking dead #twd x reader #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead carl #carl grimes x you

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lubdubsworld · 4 years ago

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Change of Heart ( Taehyung ) ( Complete.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9

Summary : Times are changing. After years of being oppressed, werewolves are taking a stand against humans , demanding equal rights and fair treatment. Heading the movement is Kim Taehyung, the breathtaking heir to the Kim fortune and one of the few remaining Alpha werewolves in the country. His disdain for the human race is well known and well warranted. They killed his family after all….. He wants to change the world , to put humans in their place but when his five year old daughter takes a shine to their very human neighbor , maybe he has to start with a change of heart , first.

: Pairing : Taehyung x OC / Werewolf AU!!

Genre : Romance, Explicit Content

Chapter 10

“Baby....you up?” Taehyung sleep heavy voice against my ear made me stir, blinking groggily as I tried to make sense of where I was. The window was still dark and I groaned.

“What time is it?” I whispered and I felt the press of his lips against my shoulder, gentle and wet.

“It’s a little past five in the morning.”

I whined in disbelief.

“Why would you wake me up so early?”

I could barely see him in the darkness and I felt my breath catch when he moved to straddle my hips, hovering over me before grabbing the back of my thighs, spreading my legs apart and leaning down till the head of his cock pressed right up against my entrance. I felt myself clenching in anticipation and my body thrummed with the need to be filled, although I was still so sore from last night.

“I’m sorry.... I need to head out but i wanted to...” Taehyung whispered, and I moaned when he kissed me lightly, groaning when he slid right in, cleaving a way inside me, my walls pulsing around the hard length of. I flinched, the dull ache of it making me whimper a little and it took some effort to ground myself, to relax and not seize up against the intrusion. I could feel my heartrate speeding up, the last vestiges of sleep fading into the air.

Taehyung, pressed gentle fingers to my waist, stroking my skin before running them up my torso, soft little touches to my ribs and up to my breasts, cupping the warm weight of them before rubbing his thumb over the tip till my nipples hardened.

“So pretty...like this...” He whispered, pulling out and pushing back in and the movement jarred my insides , drawing a pout onto my lips.

“you’re too big..” I complained and he responded by moving his hands to my knees, gripping the back of them and drawing them up and apart till I choked, spreading me so wide that my thighs screamed in protest, and he laughed at the look on my face .

“We should join a yoga class or something. Your flexibility is atrocious.” He commented mildly and I gasped, affronted.

“What on earth-” He cut me off with a kiss, before grabbing my ankle and throwing my leg over his shoulder and pressing in closer, his cock sliding in even deeper. I choked out, laughing in sheer disbelief because I wasn’t made to bend like that. Nobody was. I was sure of it.

“You’ll get used to it...” Taehyung laughed, “ Get used to me... Get used to my kisses and of course get used to my fat cock in you every damn night. ” he growled and the filthy words made me clench down on him, so hard that i almost cramped up.

He kissed me slowly and I wrapped one arm around his neck, trying to breathe through the stretch of him fucking into me, each push and pull abrasive but amazing. .

I stared at his beautiful face, trying to drink in the features, and I felt myself fall deeper, the look of affection in his gaze somehow so much more arousing than the things he was doing to me. And i realized how badly I wanted this...This and him for the rest of my life.

And in the wake of it came the reminder that +my father was out there.

A powerful man.

A dangerous man who wanted Taehyung gone.

“Are you going to be in danger?” I whispered, pressing my palm against his face and he chuckled. He lightly grabbed my wrist and pressed a kiss to my palm before bringing my hand down to his shoulder and kissing me gently.

“I always am.” He reminded me , lips brushing mine . It was far from reassuring and I gripped his shoulders harder, trying not to let the anxiety take over.

“But you’ll be safe, right?” I demanded, willing him to look me in the eye and Taehyung gave me a soft smile.

“Would you miss me terribly if I was gone?” He grinned and I felt my entire body go ice cold at the very prospect of it , my lips parting and my mouth going sandpaper dry. Taehyung’s smile faded at once, his arms tightening around me.

“Hey...hey... I was just joking...baby. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have joked about that. Rae, I’m going to be fine... Look at me. ” He whispered urgently and I curled my fingers into his shoulders, trying to breathe.

“Hey...Come on, Rae.. Don’t look so scared. ..” He pressed kisses to my cheeks and I swallowed.

“Don’t underestimate my father. Tae....“ I said hoarsely.” He has so much more to lose than you do. He’s desperate and I don’t want you to be blindsided by anything. “ I whispered.

He nodded.

“i know. i won’t. Now come on, let me make you feel good, yeah?” He kissed me again and I hugged him. He picked up the pace, thrusting into me faster and I closed my eyes, gripping his waist and hanging on as he sent my senses into overdrive.

My mind was still too worried to experience any sort of overwhelming pleasure but I liked this.

Liked having him like this, over me, inside me and wrapped all around me,.

It meant he was safe. At least for this moment, he was here and he was safe.

I felt the moment his orgasm hit him, warm wetness spilling into me and I closed my eyes at the sensation, blushing for some reason.

This time i felt him swelling inside me again and I froze, panic starting before I could stop it and he hugged me closer, lips pressing soothing kisses as he stroked my skin, gently soothing.

“it’s okay baby... You’re mine... You were made for me. it won’t hurt... I promise.” He whispered, holding me closer, and I swallowed, bracing myself .

“Oh, God, Taehyung... “ I whispered, burying my face into his shoulder as he pressed in a little deeper and he was right. It didn’t hurt, it felt overwhelming, like it was too much and like I was going to absolutely explode but it didn’t hurt. ....

Taehyung trembled a little, as he tried not to move, his knot lodging itself deep inside me, so deep that the smallest movement sent pin pricks of sensation all over my body. It didn’t even feel weird or animalistic anymore I thought , awed. it felt normal. Felt like us. Him and I locked together. Felt natural. Or maybe the early morning grogginess was making me mellow. Maybe once i had my head on straight, I’d be more terrified.

He groaned into my shoulders, body going lax on top of me and I choked a little because he was heavy, but there was a dull throbbing pleasure in it, the weight of him grounding me.

I stared up at the ceiling, stroking the back of his head as he shuddered a little inside me.

Time seemed endless as he stayed inside me and I felt my eyelids growing heavy, even as I heard his breathing even out.

Wasn’t he supposed to leave?

But I couldn’t bring myself to wake him up.

For a few more minutes, I stayed still, watching the windows grow lighter and as the first rays of the morning sun began spilling into the room, I felt sleep take over.

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

“I won’t be going in at all. The Narcotic department is going to handle the whole thing. You know Namjoon and Seokjin right? They’re the one who’re going to be there and they’re going to make sure things go smoot. I’m going to be safe ...in the comfort of my luxurious office .... “ Taehyung’s voice sounded completely steady and firm through the phone and i willed myself to trust him.

Luna sat in my lap, happily sketching on a drawing pad as we sat cross legged in front of the huge French Windows in Jungkook’s apartment. Jungkook himself was in the kitchen, whipping up some milkshakes for us.

I sighed deeply.

“ Can we come over today then? It ends today right?” I asked urgently. I buried my nose in Luna’s hair and the sweet scent of green apple and strawberries made me melt. She turned around to flash me a wide grin, eyes dancing with happiness.

Taehyung didn’t respond for a few seconds. When he did, his voice was low and soothing.

“I’m not sure Rae. These men, they aren’t the kind of people I can take lightly. There are going to be repercussions and I don’t want anything to happen to you or Luna. You’re safe there. Jungkook’s going to stay with you till I come get you and I’ve hired enough men to keep watch. I just need to hang around long enough to make sure we end this cleanly. “

“Okay. I love-”

“Don’t.” He said softly.

I blinked.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s the first time I’m hearing you say that. I’d rather hear it in person.” Taehyung said softly.

I laughed.

“You’re such a sap.”

“Only for you. Now, what is my feral daughter upto?”

“Luna, Dada wants to talk to you...” I handed the phone over to her and she squealed.

“Hi Daddy....” She said cutely. “ When are you coming home daddy?”

I couldn’t hear his side of the conversation but the pout on her face told me that she wasn’t pleased.

“But that’s soooo long....”

“I was drawing . RaeRae showed me how to draw a wolf. It looks angry like daddy.”

“No daddy, I’m being a good girl. I ate a bowl of rice and veggies too.”

“I don’t miss daddy because RaeRae’s here.”

And then she giggled.

“Of course not daddy...you’re both number one.”

A sound at the door made me look up and Jungkook held the door in place with his leg, flipping the doorjamb down before carefully carrying the tray of milkshakes in.

I gently maneuvered Luna off my lap before moving to help him.

“Smells delicious, Mr. Jeon.” I grinned, taking a sip of the chocolate concoction. “Ooh..that's really good.”

“Its a premade mix I added water to.” Jungkook grinned. I laughed.

“ Still a great cook !” I turned to watch Luna who was now flat on her back on the rug and going on about how Jungkook had let her borrow his sketching tab.

“She’s adorable.” He commented with a smile and I hummed.

“When are you heading back to the preserve?” I asked gently and he shrugged.

“Not for a while. Taehyung told me they’re not yet sure how far this whole drug thing has spread. There’s going to be a lot of arrests and protests in the next few weeks. Messing with a wolf’s ability to scent his mate...that’s terrible stuff, Rae. Wolves are gonna be fucking furious. There’s going to be a huge fall out over this and we can only hope it wouldn’t be too violent.”

I swallowed.

“Do you think I could get my job back, at the preserve?”

Jungkook looked surprised.

“You’re not gonna be with Tae?”

I turned to stare at Luna.

“Of course I’ll be with Tae but.. i love my job. I made a difference there. I’m not going to make a good trophy wife. I want to be able to help people in someway, not just hang around in the backdrop.” I said desperately.

Jungkook looked worried.

“I’m not sure if Tae will agree to that Rae. You know how he gets about his job. As his wife you’ll have plenty of stuff to do as it is..,....”

“I’m not his wife...” I muttered under my breath, although it was kind of a useless statement.

“ Umm...you know he’s going to ask you to marry him as soon as possible? You’re already wearing his mark. in fact , in our world you’re already married as far as we’re concerned,” Jungkook pointed at my neck and I rubbed the small scar on my shoulder where he’d bitten me.

“I can still do the things I want to do right? Taehyung isn’t going to lock me up , is he?” I laughed.

Jungkook tilted his head, watching me carefully.

“You don’t know him very well, do you Rae?” He said quietly.

My heart flipped over in my ribcage at the words and the tone with which he said it.

“What-What do you mean?:” I asked , nervous.

Jungkook opened his mouth to respond, only to be interrupted by Luna’s laugh.

“RaeRae!!! Daddy wants to talk to you!!” Luna came bounding over with the phone held out and I took it from her.

“Tae?”

“I’m going to head in now. We’re going to be coordinating with Seoul PD and they’ll send the guys in around 2 hours. You’re going to okay right? I’ll call you when it’s over?”

“Okay, Tae. Stay safe.” I whispered.

“I’ll be just fine. Don’t worry about me. Love you. Both of you. ”

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

Jungkook and i sat on the couch, eyes glued on the TV as the news played out watching the entire country erupt in chaos.

“Fire broke out today on a popular resort in Jeju Do, owned by Hotelier Cha Eun Woo..... Interestingly, the resort had been closed for the weekend with minimal staff and only a few VVIP customers . So far there have been reports of nine casualties, all of them guests including billionaire philanthropist Yoon Jae hyun....”

I felt the breath shudder out of me, equal parts relief and disbelief. Taehyung had closed the whole thing down with minimum fanfare and with no one any the wiser. I knew that the eight men were the major distributors in the entirety of Korea, and that with them gone, it would only be a matter of time before the entire racket collapsed.

“These guys are good.” Jungkook commented mildly and I stared at the screen, fascinated... The whole thing was being written off as an unfortunate tragedy, a gas leak or something.

A small crowd of people in uniforms stood huddled in a corner and I squinted, grinning when I caught sight of Kim Seokjin’s golden blonde head and Kim Namjoon’s tall figure, dressed like waiters. .

I felt my lips quirk at that.

The phone rang just then and I exhaled, “ Taehyung...”

“Did I do good?” He whispered.

I laughed.

“ I think I know now, why you’re an amazing politician Kim Taehyung ssi. “ I said softly.

Taehyung chuckled.

“Real life isn’t like the movies baby.... I suppose you were looking forward to some good old fashioned action sequences and a lot of alpha posturing?” He teased.

I smiled.

“I’m just glad you’re safe. “ I whispered.

“I’m sending a limo to Jungkook’s place. You should come over to my condo. I have a present for you. Will you come? ” He said gently.

Curiosity piqued, “ Of course. I’ll be there. What is it?”

Taehyung laughed softly, his voice deep.

“I think you’ll like it.”

I stared at Jungkook, who could probably hear the conversation.

He had a very odd expression on his face. Part resignation and Part worry.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.. I’m just thinking that I’m lucky...”

“Lucky?”

“That I didn’t think about pursuing you. “

I laughed.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m just saying. i wouldn’t want to be on Kim Taehyung’s hit list.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Don’t be dramatic.”

“I’m not. Be careful Rae. He’s a very dangerous man.” Jungkook said quietly, picking up the smaller glass of strawberry milk and lifting Luna up into his arms. i watched him laugh and carry her to the balcony.

And i wondered what that was about.

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

“So , what’s the present?” I asked impishly , wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing him soundly. He hugged me close, reciprocating with fervor and I moaned into his mouth. I could kiss him forever.

“Patience , little one. It’s on the way. First , tell me is your brother alright? I’ve been trying to reach him but i can’t.” He sounded worried and i felt warmth bloom in my chest.

“Yuggie’s fine. He left his phone somewhere ...i spoke to him on the way here. He’s upset of course but for now, he’s not going to come anywhere near the family business. My father handed things over to his nephew a few years ago is what I heard. Yuggie’s heading back to the States after the funeral.”

“What’s his name? This nephew...do you know? ” Taehyung asked thoughtfully.

“Kim Ji Hoo. He owns a bunch of casinos across the country. When I was in college i once heard him talk about getting girls from somewhere to my dad. I don’t remember where .... ” I said apologetically.

“That’s fine angel. Thank you for telling me... I’ll keep an eye on him.” Taehyung said with a smile.

“So this is it? The drug racket is down??” I asked nervously and he sighed.

“Hardly. We don’t know a lot of things but the Narcs caught a lot of evidence today from these idiots and their laptops and phones. Seokjin and Namjoon are going to head the investigation. We’ll probably not reveal anything to the public until we know the true extent of the operations.”

“Which would be once you get to the local dealers.”

“Yes.... but that is out of my jurisdiction so I’m going to respectfully step away and let them do their job.” He smiled.

“And the whole sex trade thing in Eun Woo’s hotel..What about that?”

“We rescued the girls earlier. There were seventeen of them, three of them underage.” His voice shook a little.

“He’s a monster. I’m glad he’s dead.” I whispered.

A knock on the door made us pull away from each other.

“Speaking off, your present’s here...” He smiled.

Grinning , i turned to the door.

And then the smile froze on my face when I saw who it was.

Seokjin stood framed in the door way, dragging another man in front of him. I couldn’t see who it was because of the black bag over his head.

“Special delivery for Alpha Kim.” He grinned, shoving the man forward till he crashed to his knees in front of me. Seokjin pulled the bag off .

“Taehyung.” I froze in disbelief, staring at the familiar man in front of me , on his knees , bloodied and battered, wrists caught in handcuffs and face swollen and gagged..

Cha Eun Woo was almost unrecognizable.

Taehyung stepped right up behind me wrapping both hands around me in a warm back hug, chin resting on my shoulder as he peered down at the beta wolf.

“Do you like your present?” He whispered, kissing my neck gently.

“Taehyung, what is this?” I said , my fingers shaking a little, my skin icy cold because of how cruel Taehyung looked and sounded, talking down to Cha Eun Woo.

“I thought you’d enjoy a little action, angel... Life get’s boring sometimes if I don’t indulge my wolf once in a while, don’t you think, baby?”

“Tae, no.” i said desperately. “ Let him go. please don’t...”

Taehyung hummed.

“Are you sure baby? You don’t wanna see how us wolves solve things?”

I shook my head frantically.

“No.. No I don’t wanna see you kill another man.” I laughed, voice just a little hysterical because why did this even have to be said. When Taehyung said present I was thinking a bottle of champagne and some roses.... not the prospect of cold blooded murder..... . “ Please.,.just... Don’t.”

Taehyung pulled away from me and moved forward. I stumbled back and away, watching as he reached Eun Woo, hand reaching out to hold the man by his hair, the veins in his hand pulsing from how tight his grip was.

Eun Woo whimpered, moaning out slurred syllables that were impossible to understand because of the gag in his mouth.

“Are you sure angel? “ Taehyung pouted, holding one hand out.. I flinched when his claws popped out , three inches long and sharp as razors.

My throat went dry as he grabbed Eun Woo by the shoulder, claws digging straight in with so much force that blood spurted out .

I whirled around, looking away , pressing my hands to my eyes, a scream forming at the back of my throat threatening to spill out.

Taehyung groaned in disappointment.

“Fine. I won’t kill him.” He said boredly. “ Seokjin...”

I turned back around , staring at him. Taehyung looked as he always did , a soft smile playing around his lips, eyes kind and warm , his voice even tempered and gentle.

But the unconscious man at his feet, the pool of blood spreading out over the carpet , the mangled shoulder..... they didn’t fit into the picture.

And suddenly, I understood just why everyone was afraid of him.

Seokjin appeared at the door. He glanced at Eun Woo and wrinkled his nose.

“Did the bitch pass out again? i swear to God, my grandmother has a higher tolerance for pain than this fucker...” He glanced at Taehyung.

“Tie things up yeah?” Taehyung said evenly and Seokjin nodded, dragging the prone body away.

“You look terrified.” Taehyung smiled, moving to the mahogany sideboard and grabbing a bottle of water. i watched as he casually washed his hands , getting rid of the blood.

“You... Would you have killed him? If I didn’t ask you to stop?”

Taehyung stopped scrubbing under his nails, giving me a look.

“What do you mean?”

“Do you.. do you do this often? Kill people?” I said shrilly.

Taehyung laughed.

“You were plenty happy when I killed your father.” He pointed out.

I swallowed.

“That’s...That’s different.. He’s... He deserved it...”

“And Eun Woo doesn’t? Come on , Rae...what he was doing with those girls was filthy.”

“Yes.. yes but...” i was so confused, my brain refusing to come to terms with the fact that Taehyung, the man i loved, actually killed people. Personally.

“Anyway... you told me to stop and i stopped. Didn’t kill him, right?” He smiled.

I nodded.

“Thank you for letting him live.” I whispered , turning away . I could feel a head ache come on. .

“Oh, i didn’t let him live.... He’s still going to die.” Taehyung said casually.

I whirled around , gaze clashing with his as my lips parted in surprise.

“You.. You said you weren’t going to kill him...” I said hoarsely.

Taehyung blinked at me, looking confused. He grabbed a pure white towel, wiping his wet hands carefully.

“Yes, I said I wouldn’t kill him. Seokjin will.” He said casually.

My entire body went cold at that, sweat gathering on my hairline because of how scared I suddenly was.

“Taehyung ...this isn’t... this scares me.” I whispered, taking a step back.

He laughed at that, moving closer and reaching for me.

“Come now, angel. You know i have to right? Men like Eun Woo don’t change... He’ll find something more vile and awful to do , probably even try to get back at me by trying to hurt you or Luna... i can’t have that can I?”

“So you just...you kill people who get in your way?” I felt like I had been dipped in a vat full of cold water. Taehyung drew me into his arms, hugging me close.

“Only when I am protecting something i value.” He said softly. “ I can’t afford loose ends, Rae. They get tangled together and trip me up. As my wife, i expect you to trust me. Trust that i won’t do anything without reason.”

“I’m not your wife.” I said dully, feeling just a little overwhelmed.

“Semantics.” He brushed my words off easily, pulling back to rub his fingers across my cheeks.

“I’m being sworn in officially, tomorrow. I want you by my side on the podium. You and our daughter. I know its going to be new to you... My world. But I think you’ll like it. I’m the king there and I want you to be my queen. ” He kissed me gently.

I stared at him, this man who i loved because of the side of him I had seen so far. The kind, considerate father, the passionate leader and the tenderly sweet lover.

But then i remembered the cold cruelty with which he had dug his claws into Eun Woo, who was after all a childhood friend of his. Was this the other side of Kim Taehyung’s perfection? Was he also a ruthless , heartless man who would do anything to protect his interests , destroy anyone who got in his way?

I pulled back an away .

“Taehyung are we rushing into this? I... do you think we should slow down? Maybe date a little and-”

He didn’t reply, his face unreadable.

“And where do you intend to live?” He said quietly. “ You don’t have a job.”

“The preserve....”

“....no longer hires humans. The law came through last week.”

It was like a knife slashed right through my insides.

“What?” i whispered, confused.

Taehyung inhaled sharply.

“We talked about this? There are a lot of qualified weres who don’t have a job, who cannot find work here in the mainland.”

“And what about me? The preserve is the only place where there’s a laboratory studying werewolf microbiology which is kind of what I’ve majored in. I can’t work anywhere else .” I said softly.

Taehyung sighed.

“Baby, hear me out... As my wife, you’ll be heading charities, working with the most intelligent people in the country , running organizations that directly help improve quality of life for underprivileged weres everywhere. It is so much bigger than anything you could accomplish in that tiny laboratory in the island. “

“So, I just move in with you right away?” I asked quietly, already knowing the answer.

Taehyung gave me that same, maddeningly rational look.

“The customs department is going to go through your father’s assets... Everything he owned is going to come under scrutiny and I’m sure his wealth is going to dwindle to nothing once they’re through with him. As it is, I know he wrote you out of his will. If you’re going to insist on working some minimum wage job , living in a dilapidated apartment somewhere just because you think, we’re going too fast...” He smiled, “ I’m going to have to put my foot down.”

And in a moment of startling clarity I just knew exactly what he’d done.

“You planned this didn’t you? “ I blinked at him. “ It’s surreal, all these pieces falling into place so perfectly..... You knew I would want to go back to my job in the preserve . That i would never agree to marry you so quickly. Why else would you rush a law like that? “

Taehyung didn’t reply.

“i know how laws are passed Taehyung. You must’ve put quite the pressure on your bosses, to pass such a mundane law so fast...”

He stared back at me without an ounce of guilt in his gaze.

“I won’t apologize for wanting my mate by my side.” He said evenly.

“Will you apologize for being a cunningly manipulative bastard, then ?”

“you’re over reacting...” He said calmly.

“Am I, Taehyung?” I said sharply. “ It’s been a week since I found out i was your mate. A week.... And now suddenly, i have your mark on my neck, no possibility of getting my job back and no other option but to cling to you.... I’d say I’m reacting how any woman would react.... You played me like a fiddle and I’ve been dancing to your tune all along. “

Taehyung sighed.

“You make it sound like I’ve done something terrible. “

“ Haven’t you?? “ i demanded.

“ No, I haven’t. I love you. I care for you deeply and so does my daughter. She needs you as much as i do and she loves you so much. Your own family is almost non existent right now. your brother is three thousand miles away and I am here offering you my love, my home and the chance to be a part of my family. Tell me what are you losing out on? Tell me what it is I’ve taken away from you?”

My choice, I thought with clarity. You’ve taken away my right to make that choice.

He held my face gently, thumbs brushing across my cheeks.

“I know you’re frightened. But trust me. I’m going to be here by your side. Eun Woo dies today, not because of those girls he destroyed but because of you. Because he dared touch you , knowing you were mine . Tomorrow the whole country will know it and no one will dare to even breath wrong in your direction. Because they know what your mate is capable of.”

He pressed a kiss to my forehead and I let him hug me, staring over his back at the opposite wall.

The painting on the wall caught my eye.

A beautiful, dainty gazelle, cornered against the edge of a huge cliff, staring down the barrel of a hunter’s gun. And on her side, a big beautiful wolf , gorgeous and tempting as it seemed to call for her. And it was obvious that in her panic , she was going to run into the arms of the wolf.

Not knowing that the wolf was just as dangerous, just as deadly as the hunter and the cliff edge.

I closed my eyes hugging him tight.

I was so tired.

“Tell me you’ll marry me. “ Taehyung’s hypnotic voice wove its spell over me, soft and soothing and filled with all the reassurances a naïve young girl would ever need.

I took a deep breath, trembling in his arms when i exhaled.

And then I replied.

The End

~~~~~~~~

Author’s note : Tell me how much you hate me.

Taehyung isn’t a saint wbk. So of course there’s going to be a sequel.

Soon. Hopefully.

Taglist : @veronawrites

@ladyartemesia

@bumb1e-bee

@jeonlovescoffee

@bonyg

@unicornbabylover

#taehyung smut #taehyung fics #taehyung fanfic #Taehyung werewolf fic #taehyung werewolf au #bts werewolf au #bts #bts fic #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts angst #taehyung angst

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queen-ch3rry · 3 years ago

Text

It started with one indigo classic named Doc

My story of how I became hopelessly enmeshed in the Cars community starts weak, has a middle "ick" point, and then (at this moment of writing) has turned into something that fulfills my life with so much joy

I grew up with old cars, so they seemed common to me from basically moment one! When I was a wee baby and was fussy, sometimes my mom would drive me around in her 1972 car. Every car I was surrounded by was from the 1970s (briefly one from the 1960s), so vintage vehicles weren't a far off concept to me

Even now, my own car is 30 years old! The only modern cars I've been in have been borrowed or rented. So while from an early age I was not a "car nut," much time was spent with them. I played with some Matchbox diecasts when I was 7-8, but cars were not any focus in my personal playtime. I had plushies, the dozens of plastic equines of a typical horse-loving little girl, a Barbie I hated... but I never actively WANTED toy cars for gifts.

When I was artsy, doodling in my art pads, I drew animals, things like The Aristocats, more horses, and cartoon people. Never cars. Drawing them? Yuck. Boring. And heck, they looked plain old HARD to even begin to figure out for drawing if I wanted to!!!

Fast forward to teenage Ginger in the mid 2010s. Cars (the movie) flew entirely under my radar in 2006. I never saw merch, heard about it, nothing. I blame the fact the new town we'd moved to didn't have a theatre. Maybe that kept the news on the down-low, and silent???

Teenage Ginger discovered Cars probably through deviantART. Honestly, I'd tell you if I remembered the exact magic moment, but I don't. All I know is that around that time I was heavily involved in another fandom of "sentient machinery" of a "species" I'd rather not mention because it ended up leading to very bad times and bad people in my life, severe harassment, account changes, etc.

Anyway, I discover Cars. Again. I say again because it first came to my attention via my dad's neighbor, who'd loaned him the movie, thinking another "car buff" would really get into it. I wanted no part of it then because 99/100 whatever my dad geeks out over I abhor. For real. It ends up being dumb, immature, plain stupid, crude, the like. Movie thus went back to the neighbor - unwatched. It bears to mention my paternal figure never watched it either. Committing issues

I rediscover - and watch - Cars on the torrent (yes I know).

And I love it. The concept was only briefly odd to me until I saw Doc Hudson, and baby, I was in loveeeee! And, for lack of rambling more, let's just say that character altered my life. The whole movie did, but Doc? He led to things sweet and bitter.

Like @agentsandracartrip, I met my "soul sister" through the Cars community. Actually through Tumblr, and my very old and no longer used @the-fabulous-hudson-hornet fan blog. Everything felt so good, sweet, and right. I'd never had a friend like this. For one week in summer, we hung out in real life - a first for me when all my fandom friends are through the screen.

We hyped up over Cars 3, rehashed the scenes and best parts together (anything with Doc or Smokey was perfection). She sent me some amazing gifts relating to the community. We shared and lived and breathed how much this movie franchise made our lives happy.

It was the sweetest time. Until it wasn't.

It ended with her reporting my facebook RP accounts I'd made that we used to interact with sometimes, getting my old computer permabanned from Facebook... and in a bizarre twist of fate, with her involvement in the other community I'd gotten away from. Soon some of them and she were quite tight and making up all these things they heard from some of my worst bullies. In a year's time, the friendship and union with my "bestie and sister" was gone, and so was much of my trust

The fandom wasn't cool to me for quite a long time after this

But I didn't give on it entirely, and I'm glad I didn't. Now we come to the current day in this fearfully LONG tale (are you still reading?!?). I'm the proud owner of the Motorama City discord server (created July 2021) - 60 members strong! I wanted to make a place that was fun, casual, yet geared to more mature fans of the fandom for, I've sadly been in many Cars servers full of trolls, bullies, shitposts, and general toxicity that have made several people feel unwelcome

And I'm so happy to have @agentsandracartrip on board as my friendly mod to guide everyone on their stay! https://discord.gg/77JfrYCbf9 https://discord.gg/77JfrYCbf9

I've been a Cars artist (hellooo @v16classycaddy-art ) for several years now... it's pretty much ALL I draw (haha, what a change right?), and one of my happiest hours was when Pixar contacted me to feature a LMQ sketch I did in 2019. So, thankfully, my journey into the community has ended better than its rocky midpoint, and while I'm sad it's deader than it used to be since 2017 and Cars 3, I have hopes it won't ever disappear.

Maybe the new Disney+ show this year will breathe much-needed life back into our own world of automotive happiness.

Here's hoping 💕

have you actually read this far??? omg, you deserve tons of cookies or something asdfjsdfjsfj

#ginger speaks #how i entered the fandom #you all have made me so happy #i'm glad we can share the loveeee #cars fandom #pixar cars #disney pixar cars #cars 1 (2006)#disney cars #cars 3 (2017)#cars isn't just for boys #cars pixar

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ihearthes · 4 years ago

Photo

Quarantine Christmas Part 1

Author: @ihearthes Pairing: Harry x y/n Rating: Fluff/Smut (Smut in Part 2) Word Count: 2826 (Part 1) Fiction Chalenge via @caitlin‘s fiction party via @sweetcreatureinthedark

December 23, 2020

My head spins as I haul my suitcase from the trunk, using two hands due to the heft of the dirty clothes inside. Setting it on the ground, I yank on the handle before grappling with the two shopping bags filled with presents, reaching back for the decorated Christmas tin that is filled with homemade cookies, fudge, and other delicacies baked by my colleagues at Apple Music.

Wrestling with my hands full, I close the trunk with an elbow, shivering in the chilly LA air. At the front door, I want to cry. Dammit. I could clearly remember that when Glenne had given me the code for the front door and the alarm, I placed them in my phone under her contact information.

“FUCK!” The primal scream is released from my lungs, likely scaring the neighbors if any of them are outside enjoying Christmas lights or having family celebrations on this Christmas Eve Eve. Balancing the tin of cookies on top of the suitcase, I set down the shopping bags to reach for my phone. My purse slips off my shoulder, knocking the container of sweets, and in the scramble to rescue them, I nearly fall head over heels into the bushes.

It isn’t until I punch in the numbers and drag my personal effects inside that it occurs to me that the alarm isn’t armed. Had Glenne and Jeffrey forgotten to punch in the code before they left for Palm Springs? Deciding I don’t care, I leave everything by the door as I drag my suitcase to the main floor laundry room, dumping everything in without regard to color or type of clothing. Since we’ve been working remotely the majority of the time for the last fucking nine months, “dressing up” encompasses blue jeans and the occasional blouse, but most of my clothing is sweatpants and t-shirts. Deciding washing the blue jeans and blouses with the sweatpants and t-shirts is the worst idea ever, I fish those out before pouring laundry detergent over the remaining garments and starting the washer.

Glancing down at the clothing currently on my body, it seems completely reasonable to drop them into the washer too. Stripping the t-shirt from my body, I toss it into the swirling water before adding my bra, socks, and leggings to the murky mix. Wearing only panties in the cool house makes my nipples bead.

Ha! I’m sure my nips are happy to get any action after almost a year with no dating of any sort because of the fucking pandemic. Which reminds me that I’ve forgotten my vibrator at home. Shit. Of all the things I don’t mind borrowing from Glenne, I do have a line I won’t cross.

Placing the tin of Christmas yummies on the kitchen counter, I grasp the handles of the two bags of gifts. It might be silly to put them under the tree since I’m the only one in the house, but it will make me feel better. More like I’m at home with my family in Indiana. Less like I’m stuck in quarantine in an empty house for my favorite holiday. Sniffling, I swipe at my nose with the back of my hand as I pad down the two steps into the living room to the tree.

Kneeling at the fake tree, I reach for the switch to turn on the lights. As the colors begin blinking, I carefully withdraw each present, reading the tag before gently placing the gift under the tree. Even my brother had sent a present through the mail which must mean he misses me his year. Right now, we should be challenging each other to the most ridiculous games to see who is the best. Inevitably, he would win some while I beat him at others until eventually we declare a tie. My mother would chastise us both with a grin on her face, implicitly encouraging us to continue our “reindeer games” as my father called them.

From behind me, I hear a shuffling sound. Hadn’t they taken Myles with them? No matter. I could use the company a dog would provide.

“Santa, you’ve changed!” a soft voice exclaims, and I jump, twisting around to find another human wearing sweatpants and a hoodie.

“It’s you!” Both voices exclaim simultaneously. “What the fuck are you doing here?” We both pause, “Stop saying what I’m saying!”

Out of breath, I stare at him. The Harry Styles. Fuck.

His eyes roam over my body, and it finally dawns on me that I’m wearing nothing but my Victoria’s Secret lace panties. Shit.

Pacing measuredly to the couch without openly cringing, I grasp a wool throw and wrap it around my chest regally like I’ve just exited the pool at some exotic locale near the equator. My shoulders straighten, and I face him openly.

“Are you joining Glenne and Jeffrey in Palm Springs?” My back is a board, and my tone is barely restrained.

“Nope.” His nonchalance combined with his truncated answer pisses me off, per usual.

“So you’re flying home, waiting here for your flight tonight?” The hopeful tone is obvious to me and probably to him as well.

“No.” Those green eyes of his rake over my nearly-naked body, and I shiver. From the cold of course. Jesus. Get your heads out of the gutter!

“Watering the plants prior to returning to the Soho?”

“Uh uh.”

Delayed dread begins to fill my stomach. “You mean --” I clear my throat -- “you’re staying here?”

“Yep.”

“Shit.” Running my hand through my hair, I ponder the impact and my next steps.

“You?” He asks politely, even though I know he doesn’t feel solicitude at this moment.

“Glenne told me I could stay here for a few days. I made arrangements for my place to be fumigated while I was in Indiana for Christmas.”

His raised eyebrow mocks me.

“I’m not going, though. Okay?”

“Why not?”

“Seriously? Where the fuck have you been, Styles? In case you didn’t know, there’s a global fucking pandemic, and all of Los Angeles is locked down. So no -- I am not getting on a plane with a bunch of potentially infected and contagious --” Emotion overwhelms me, and I have to stop and catch my breath. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I turn away from him so he can’t see the tears that form in my eyes.

“Whatever, Smith.”

“My name --” I draw myself up and gather my anger around me like a cloak -- “is not Smith.”

“Yeah, right. Which bedroom are you planning to sleep in?”

“Surely you’re not suggesting we both stay here?” Appalled, I stare at him with my mouth open. “I’ll get a hotel room.” When I realize my wardrobe is in the washing machine, I softly say, “As soon as my clothes are dry.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t be ridiculous, Smith. We’ll share the space. It’s only a couple of days.”

“Excuse me!?” Anger wells up. “Only the most important days in the entire year!” Superiority makes me stand up fully to him. “Besides, I’ve been quarantining for months. No way do I want to share germs with you!”

“Oh please! As if you’ve got a monopoly on quarantining! I’m perfectly safe. We get tested every morning before we film. When was the last time you were tested?”

“Two days ago!” She’s at her boiling point. “Look, if we're both staying here together, then we’re just going to have to avoid each other. It’s a big house. We can do that.”

“Maybe once you put some clothes on,” Harry comments, smirking in that way he has where the left side of his mouth tilts up.

Mortified, I glance down at myself. Briefly I consider scurrying for Glenne’s closet, but I pause. Why should I rush away? Because he’s male? Because he was here first? Because he’s sexy as fuck and my panties can’t take anymore?

“Fine,” I respond as I brush past him like the Queen of England. “I’ll find something to wear, and then we can hash out the details.”

“Great plan. I’m ordering something for dinner.”

My stomach growls, and I suddenly feel an irrational hatred for that part of my body. How I long to state that I’ve already eaten or that I plan to cook something! But alas, I’ve brought no food with me, and I’ve no clue what’s in the kitchen. If Glenne and Jeffrey even left anything.

“Does that mean you’d like some too?” He gloats, and as much as I would like to smack the grin off his face, I’ve not eaten since a quick bite for breakfast hours before.

Knowing I’m going to have to grovel, I face him. “I’m capable of ordering for myself.”

“Yes, but that’s not necessarily good for the environment, is it? Sending two drivers to the same address from different restaurants?” Pausing, he appears to swallow whatever snarky comment was forthcoming. “Can we agree on this one small thing? I’m thinking poke.”

Shit. Fuck. Goddammit. That’s exactly what I would have ordered. Fuck.

Casually, I shrug. “Yeah, whatever. I can choke down some poke.” As I saunter away, tucking the ends of the makeshift shroud under my armpits, I call back to him, “Spicy please.”

Quickly I make my way to Glenne’s closet, surveying the items there. Ripping down a pair of joggers and a Full Stop Management hoodie, I drop the covering I’ve been wearing and rapidly draw the clothes over my naked body. Nothing I can do about not having a bra, but the hoodie is roomy so I worry less.

In the bathroom, I run my fingers through my hair, combing out the curls as best I can in this environment. In no way do I want it to appear that I’m trying to look amazing for Harry. Biting my lip, I admit to myself that the opposite is true. I absolutely want him to fall at my feet.

Which isn’t going to happen, I remind myself. Give up the ghost of a fantasy.

Making eye contact in the mirror, I provide a pep talk for myself. “Listen,” I remind my reflection, “this is just one more fucked up situation in 2020. You’ve gotten through worse. It’s truly a giant house, so there’s no reason -- wait. Why is he staying here anyway?” For whatever reason, I had allowed him to dodge that incredibly simple question.

Tucking my hands into the hoodie’s front pocket, I amble to the kitchen where Harry is just disconnecting his phone.

“Food will be here in 45 minutes,” he promises.

“Why are you staying here again? I missed your answer earlier,” I prompt.

I’m confident I see a flash of embarrassment crossing his face as he lowers his head. “Wine?” He asks, gesturing towards the extensive rack of reds and then the chiller of whites.

Unsure as to whether I should allow the diversion or press, I examine him. His eyes look tired and sad. His clothes, while comfortable, aren’t upbeat. Nor is his current demeanor. Is he okay?

Planting his hands in his hoodie in an unconscious mimic of my pose, he glances at me before his eyes stray to the side, examining the marble countertop. That look tells me more than I need to know, and my empath side emerges as I toss him a life preserver.

“With poke? I think perhaps a Reisling.”

He nods, bending to look through the wines in the cooler before he extracts one, holding it up for me to inspect the label. My eyes start to widen at the vineyard, assuming the extravagant cost, but I calm my features. “Perf!” I declare.

Grasping the wine opener from a nearby drawer, Harry removes the cork as I snatch two wine glasses from the cabinet and place them near him. Carefully comparing the amount in each glass, he pours enough before recorking the bottle. Taking my glass, I move into the living room where I can view the tree. It’s Christmas Eve Eve after all, and I refuse to be deterred from watching the lights twinkle and celebrating the season.

Harry apparently has a similar idea as he fiddles with the sound system before a crackle of ‘Jingle Bell Drunk’ by RaeLynn starts playing which causes me to giggle.

I settle on one side of the sofa, and Harry plants himself on the other side. Separately, we each take a sip of the riesling. My tongue does a happy dance at the flavor on my tongue. “This sweetness will cut the spicy quite well. Excellent choice.”

“You made the selection,” Harry reminds me, and I cringe.

“Oh. Yeah.”

Silence descends as the song proclaims “I’ve been naughty. I’ve been nice.”

“If there was ever a year for this song, this is it.” I announce into the quiet.

“Yeah. It’s been quite the year.”

Sharply, I glance at him. Perhaps I had missed something? “Excuse me? You’ve had one hell of a year, Styles. Grammy nominations aside, there were how many music videos released during this global disaster? Plus a movie!”

“Agreed.” He’s quiet, his jaw clenched, and suddenly his words burst forth as though a gate at a dam has been opened. “But no tour. And almost no family time.”

Wait. Was this superstar feeling some of my emotions? He’d had a stellar year in anyone’s estimation. Maybe I could be more sympathetic.

“Yeah. I’m sorry about tour. I had tickets to Vegas and one of the LA shows.”

His head swivels to me more swiftly than an owl focusing on prey. “You had tickets?”

“HAVE.” I swallow. “Thanks for not canceling by the way. I cannot imagine the bloodbath for getting tickets in the future. You’ve become the ‘it celebrity’.”

A blush is followed by a sheepish smile. “You can always get tickets, Smith. Just ask.”

“I don’t do that.” My voice is filled with the prickles that I feel at his words.

“Do what?”

“Use my privilege to get tickets to shows.”

“Oh. I…” His words trailed off.

Suddenly, I feel less uncomfortable around him. Reaching out, I shove at his shoulder. “You’re a giant star, and you have a ton of fans who want to see you. Me? I’m just happy to be a member of the audience.”

“Really?” Incredulous is what I sense in that one word. “Why?”

“Seriously?” I’m appalled. “Do you not know what an amazing entertainer you are, Styles? Fuck. If I hadn’t been able to see your Fine Line show at the Forum last December, I probably would have cried. You know exactly what your audience wants, and you deliver it. Consistently.”

“But --”

“Hush. Don’t you dare negate your talent!” Taking another sip of wine, I reveal unabashedly, “Maybe it’s the wine talking, but I really enjoy your shows.”

“Smith?” He inquires, and my hand stalls with my wine glass halfway to my mouth.

“Yeah?”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you like my shows?”

Stalling, I run a finger through my hair and empty my wine glass before holding it out to him. “More please?”

He rises, but I can read his reluctance. Within moments, Harry is back at my side, handing me a second glass of the riesling. I can’t help but notice that he’s topped his own off too.

“Answer the question, Smith.”

“My name isn’t Smith. In fact, there’s not a single part of my name that’s related to Smith. Why do you call me that?”

“Tell me why you like my shows, and I’ll reveal the meaning behind the nickname.”

My head feels fuzzy from the wine and the headiness of being near Harry, and I watch the lights flashing on the tree for a few minutes while Meghan Patrick belts out her version of ‘I’ll Be Home for Christmas’ over the sound system.

“You make your fans feel like they matter.”

“How?” His question comes rapidly, and I have to gather my thoughts.

“You...talk to them. Listen to them. Watch them. Appreciate them. It’s rare, Harry. I mean, I’m in this business too, you know. Not every artist does what you do.”

“False.”

“I’m fucking serious, you asshole.” I gulp down more of the wine. “You make your audience feel like they’re your closest friends. I wish more artists did that. Specifically the ones I represent.”

“Oh.” His single utterance is enough, and we sit in pure tranquility for several minutes as the lights blink and Ava Max sings “Christmas Without You”.

“Wanna watch the quintessential holiday movie?” I inquire, looking at him.

“Which is?”

“Die Hard, of course,” is my response. “What were you thinking?”

“It’s a Wonderful Life.”

“Nope. It’s pretty good. In the top five for sure.”

“Wait. What are your top five?”

“Oh, that’s easy. ‘Die Hard’, ‘Home Alone’, ‘A Christmas Story’, ‘The Santa Clause’, and ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’.

“You’re serious?”

“Deadly?” I giggle at the joke since ‘Die Hard’ is full of death.

“Fine. But we watch ‘Wonderful Life’ afterwards.”

“Deal.”

Part 2

#my writing #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #caitlin's fic challenge #part1 #harry styles smut #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #original writing

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kirythestitchwitch · 4 years ago

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Til I Tasted You: Chapter 2

Bonnie talks Caroline into trying out a "To Find A Mate" spell. The traveling through time part was completely unexpected, as was who the spell reveals. Chapter One on AO3

Uh hi so, this is like three years later! I got inspiration and like was well, I might as well do that sequel everyone asked for!

Thank you @cupcakemolotov and @certifiedceraunophile for your advice and encouragement!

Tags: Time Travel, Mates, Woodsy Makeouts, Magical Accidents, Human Klaus Mikaelson, Vampire Caroline Forbes, things do not go as planned, Werewolf Mates, this isn't a slow burn this is two idiots , tanding around on fire, very tense conversations on porches, You ever just YEARN?, it's yearning hours, Hybrid Klaus Mikaelson, Yeah the 'does he find out?' chapter is here

Caroline parked her car in front of the house and breathed for a minute in the dark, forehead pressed to the steering wheel. She'd had to haltingly explain to Bonnie while wrapped in her comforter what happened.

Embarrassed, horrified, and intrigued in equal measure, Bonnie had seemed to understand what she meant when she tried to explain the way touching him had felt. “It’s the mate bond. It how they… know,” she said awkwardly, gesturing to one of the books still on the floor.

A horrible thought occurred to Caroline. “So you knew. You knew that Tyler wasn’t, because we didn’t...” she trailed off, but Bonnie seemed to understand.

“I knew,” her friend nodded guiltily. “I thought maybe someone new might help, after he...” She bit her lip, obviously thinking how badly that had backfired.

"Damon's going to want to use this," her friend had whispered. And not for the first time, Caroline wondered how much of herself she had to give up for Elena’s happiness. Klaus wasn’t good, he wasn’t kind, but according to very adamant magic, he was hers. And he’d tried to kill her twice.

She could deal with this tomorrow, she thought, finally climbing out of the car. First period history tests didn’t care that your world had been upended, they only cared about essay questions about the political tensions of France in 1789. As she set her foot on the top porch step, Klaus’ voice came out of the dark. “Having a pleasant evening, Caroline?” Her head snapped up.

Klaus leaned casually in the shadow of one of the porch posts, like showing up unannounced at 9pm when she was in a crisis didn't make him a big creepy weirdo. His eyes perused her appearance before refocusing on her face. Something a little like hope, like satisfaction, dawned on his face. "Leave something in the woods?"

Caroline inhaled sharply. Under Bonnie's borrowed shirt she could still feel echoes of his hands gripping her close, could still taste him when she licked her lips, and it felt like the most searing of damnations to still somehow want him. She scoffed anyway. "Did everyone go hiking today? I must have missed the invite."

The corner of his mouth twitched. "That is not the yellow shirt you were wearing this morning. Rebekah was quite... detailed."

She looked away, flush crawling up her cheeks in mortification. "I guess it was too much to hope you had forgotten?" Perversely, desperately, she had wanted him to have remembered.

Klaus didn't seem to breathe and then with a quick step he erased the concept of personal space. "If you think I have forgotten a single moment of what it felt like to touch you in all the time I have had to contemplate what you mean to me, you have not been paying attention." He lifted his hand and with careful fingers touched one of her curls as one touches something precious and burning.

She swatted his hand away. "I think I've been paying attention every time you tried to kill me, Klaus!"

"Do tell," he said neutrally, rubbing his fingertips against his thumb before dropping his hand.

Crossing her arms, she glared at him. This close to him the urge to reach for him was prickling under her palms again and that way lay madness. “You kidnapped me and tried to use me in your murdery hybrid ritual,” she said.

His fingers twitched again, and he shoved them in his pockets. “Yes, I can see how having you and my hybrid safely tucked away from the Salvatore’s incompetence for an afternoon was actually mistaken for an attempt on your life,” he said mildly.

“They snapped my neck and manacled me to a wall, and I was supposed to think ‘Ah, Klaus is trying to save my life, of course, that’s completely obvious!’”

Klaus lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “It seemed expedient at the time.”

Caroline rolled her eyes. “Okay, then please explain making Tyler bite me over a pissing contest you had with Stefan.”

For the first time, Klaus looked away, lips pressed firmly together. “There was never a moment where I would have let you die.”

“Hey no, you don’t get to pull that ‘You were never in any danger’ crap,” she snapped. “I was terrified and I was dying, and you...” You made me want to start living again, was what she couldn’t say.

“He called you his girlfriend,” Klaus’s golden rimmed gaze practically collided with hers with a fury she could feel like radiant heat on her skin. “His girlfriend, like such an infantilizing word could describe what you could be to someone, like you were his. I gave him the chance to prove me wrong, to show me he could defy me for your sake. He failed.”

It took a moment for Caroline to speak again. “You had him bite me because you were jealous?” she asked, incredulously.

Klaus shifted his weight, and then clenched his jaw, gold fading from his eyes. “As if I could be jealous of a boy who has no concept of what it is like to touch the sun and then spend a millennium looking for daylight in every strangers’ face.” His arms bunched as he held himself still, and Caroline remembered what they felt like under her hands, warmth and crystal clear belonging humming at her fingertips.

She closed her eyes and tried to breathe through the swooping feeling in her stomach. “You can’t just… you can’t just say things like that when I’m furious with you,” she said looking back at him, frustrated, mad, and horribly, undeniably charmed.

Giving her ample time to move, Klaus leaned in slowly until his breath feathered against her face. “When you left me in that forest,” He said lowly, “It was with a name, a bit of fabric, and a yearning I had no reference for. I went home and I died that night, and days later when the wolf came clawing out of me, I awoke tied to a post with the bone deep knowledge of what I had gained and what I had lost.” He licked his lips and she could hardly breathe.

“For a thousand years you stayed lost, and I kept your shirt until time unwound it and the faintest scraps remained. So do not presume to tell me that Tyler has something for me to be jealous of when he fled at the first hint of shame.” Very carefully he took a step back, hands sliding from his pockets to clasp behind his back, as if those few precious inches would make the difference.

Caroline dug her nails into her arms and held onto her anger with both fists. “Klaus, you’ve done… so many terrible things since you came into our lives and you, you did them knowing who I was. You killed Elena, you killed Jenna, you tortured Stefan, you turned Tyler into a minion, and… me. You hurt me.” Mulishly, she set her jaw against the gnawing pit behind her breast bone. “Just because I did some dumb spell that says we’re-” She cut herself off, unable to erase or fit the enormity of time travel into the universe’s neon sign sized hint that they were mates.

More evenly she said, "You chose to do those things and you didn't choose me."

Something cracked open behind his eyes, a yearning of a thousand years laid bare. Voice low and rough, he said, "And if I did? If I did choose you? Would my mate also choose me?" He watched her so carefully, this monster that even death didn't want, and she remembered the way he had barely touched her, not so long ago in her bed.

Carefully, Caroline stepped close, unclenching fingers, unwinding her arms. Klaus went hunter still, waiting while she brought a hand up to his face and deliberately cupped his cheek. The pleasurable rush this time was instantaneous, honey-gold and thick through her veins, leaping skin to skin with a roar of here here here is what I was looking for. With a shudder, Klaus closed his eyes and leaned into her palm, breathed in the scent of her pulse, lips pressed to the base of her thumb. It was relief, it was torture, it was like putting out a hearthfire by burning down the house.

This was a mistake, a miscalculation. The ache of arousal twisted through her, opening a chasm of need in her that didn’t answer to principles or objections, that knew his silver tongue could make better promises on her clit until she begged for his cock. A core deep knowledge that he would deny her nothing she wanted in this and more than she could know to ask for.

Drawing in an unsteady breath (don’t moan don’t moan) she pulled her hand back, the pads of her fingers scraping against the scruff of his face. He didn’t quite follow her hand, letting her go. The wolf in his eyes, he watched her clutch her hands to her chest and it looked like triumph.

“Will it always be like that?” Caroline asked shakily.

Klaus made a considering noise in his throat. “It is said there is some element of intent to it, after a certain point,” he said, the smugness back in his voice. “If it’s what you want.”

She narrowed her eyes, ignoring that rude inner voice that whispered how much she did want. “I guess we’ll see.”

He smiled at her, charm tucked in his dimples as he rocked back on his heels. “I look forward to seeing how I can make things up to you, Caroline.”

And then with a whisper of wind she was alone on her porch, her blood still singing in memory of his heat on her skin.

#my fic #klaroline fanfiction #klaroline fanfic #mates trope #me constantly: drag him Caroline #klaroline #tvd for ts #klaroline for ts #i had to get out of bed to post this shit bc i forgot before i got in bed

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rose7420 · 4 years ago

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Best of Friends

Summary: Loki becomes curious about the whereabouts of a certain tiny Avenger reader. Lots of fluff and some angst

I know I have requests to do but I had this idea and had to make it come to life, Enjoy my friends!

Loki walked into the kitchen of the Avengers Tower. The smooth white counter shone with impeccable cleanliness. He had been here for about two and a half weeks now and had barely spoken to anyone. He was very lonely but took no offense to the shunning of the superheroes. During his attack in 2012, he knew he had caused a lot of pain and loss. He had sat in his jail cell on Asgard contemplating his actions, regretting many of them. Finally, after two miserable years that held the loss of his mother, Odin had thought it a brilliant idea to come back to the very planet he had nearly destroyed and ask that he live with the very people he had fought violently against.

He reached the cabinet that held snacks of various sorts, ones he usually stuck his nose up to, and opened it to find disappointment once again. All junk. Releasing a deep aggravated breath he went to the refrigerator. Cold air grazed his face as he opened the door and found nothing there either. He turned to the counter and searched for the basket of fruit that usually was placed there. Holding red apples, bananas, and oranges the colors made an ugly mix. He reached for an apple and shined it on his shirt. Taking a bite out of it then swallowing, he relished the feeling of having food in his stomach. Those awful times he spent in the cell, the guards would often forget to give him his meals, he winces at the awful memory of a truly empty stomach.

His attention is drawn down to a small object near the bowl. He plucks it up and inspects it to realize it is a minuscule black boot. His inspection is halted from the sound of footsteps belonging to the Black Widow who enters the kitchen, most likely for another cup of coffee. She nods her head in greeting and continues her process of making the warm drink. Although distant to him, Natasha holds no menace in her gaze when she looks upon him almost as if she understood the predicament he was in while terrorizing New York. She takes a sip of her freshly brewed coffee and turns around to look at him when she notices the tiny object pinched in his fingertips.

“That’s Y/N’s.” She says motioning with her head towards the tiny boot as if finding a tiny shoe is a normal occurrence.

Loki is astonished that someone could even wear this boot, it wouldn't be able to even slide onto his pinky finger.

“Who is this Y/N?” He asks curiously.

“She’s like us, goes on missions, fights the bad guys but just in a more secretive way. Maybe she’ll come out for you to see her one day, doesn't like the attention from us big guys much often.” Natasha says taking another sip.

“What do you mean by “big guys” agent?”He asks although he thinks he knows the answer already.

“You’ll find out soon enough. Just leave the boot on the counter she’ll come back for it. Don’t bother keeping watch for her to come to get it, she’ll find a way to get past your sights.” She says walking out the door holding her cup. Loki is astonished to know that there is a tiny person living here with him, and he hadn’t even known. Not to mention that she goes on missions. He aches to find out more about this tiny being, but he will heed Natasha’s advice and not go searching for her. Something tells him that this little person is skilled enough to evade even the Trickster’s awareness.

True to Natasha’s word: The little boot was gone by the next morning

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Two days later, Loki sits at a table in the grand library of Tony Stark’s. Books cover the walls and reach up to the tall ceiling. Before Loki had started occupying this space he had figured no one had used this library in years from the heavy coat of dust that had lied on every inch of the room. What a shame to waste such knowledge. Books were splayed out in front of Loki of all he could find on “tiny people”. He had read over the term "borrower" and "fairy" many times already. Perhaps this tiny being had been a borrower and gotten caught. His curiosity was practically burning holes in him. A faint huff and oomph draw his attention, his gaze leaving the printed paper. His emerald eyes go wide when a positively tiny person drags themselves upon the surface of the wooden table. They appear to stand at only a grand two and a half inches tall carrying a piece of paper fit to their size along with a pen.

“Whatcha starin’ at big boy?” The tiny girl asks Loki fearlessly.

Loki snaps his jaw up to close his wide-open mouth. He, for the first time in a while, is at a loss for words.

“You’re a talkative one, eh?” Heavens be, this little being is full of sass.

“My apologies, my name is Loki. I presume you to be Y/N?” Loki finally says.

“You would be correct Loki. So you like to read. Huh?” Y/N walks up to the books splayed open and smiles widely at the title, “All You Need to Know About Borrowers”

“Little people, yeah? Well, I hate to break it to ya, but I ain’t no borrower or fairy. Wasn’t born like this if that helps any at all.” Loki blushes when she reads the title but listens intently to what she’s saying. She wasn’t born like this, as she shrunk? He wisely chooses not to ask her that question.

“May I ask why you are here?” Loki says, inquisitive to how could she attempt to read these books that are five times her size.

Y/N holds up the little slip of paper she carries and shows it to him.

“Stark takes the books I want and shrinks them down to my size so they’re a bit more manageable. Ain’t much to do for a gal like me other than to read and eat.” She says with a hint of humor in her voice. She doesn’t seem affected by her situation; embracing it rather than hating it. An idea pops into Loki’s head.

“Perhaps I could shrink it for you? Less hassle than having to wait for Stark.” Loki offers.

“That's right you’re that wizard dude, gotta lot of magic tricks huh?”

Loki laughs and he watches her eyes lit up with excitement as she hands the paper to him after scribbling another title onto it.

“Are you sure you can read my writing? It’s awfully small for your eyes.” And indeed the print is. The paper slip barely covers the pad of his fingertip.

“No worries about that,” Loki reassures her. He grows the paper to his size and goes to retrieve the books written down. He sets them down lightly on the table, watching as Y/N stumbles from the heavy load of them all. He apologizes but she waves him off.

“Are these the right ones?” He asks to make sure.

She strides towards the novels and looks them over from the spines that show, and nods with affirmation. He shrinks them to her size, watching as she bends down to gather them in her arms. They cause significant distress in her tiny arms so he offers his assistance.

He watches her pause with concern. After a few moments, she accepts and places the now-tiny books into the palm of his hand, watching as they slide towards the natural dip his palm creates.

“Would you like me to carry you?” He asks imagining the trip to be longer for her than it is for himself.

“O-oh n-no! I’ll be fine, if you don’t mind you could just follow me?” Her voice is high-pitched with obvious anxiety. He agrees and assures her there is no problem, watching her movements with fascination when she scales down the table leg.

The trip to her room is long, one step of his equalling ten of hers. Not to mention his trepidation of stepping too close, and accidentally hurting her. He also notices how every footstep of his causes her to stumble minutely. After about twenty minutes they arrive at her door. Which is normal-sized and puzzles him until he notices the tiny door situated in the middle. She steps in through her door then calls out to him that he can come in. He does so opening the normal-sized door and steps into her room. He searches for her form, whipping his head around at the non-furnished room until he comes across a dollhouse that sits on the floor. She walks across the floor and motions for him to come nearer.

“Could you uh, put the house on the desk? So it’s easier for you to see.”

He nods and sets the books he has in his hands down on the table. Standing what feels like a hundred feet over a dollhouse no bigger than a medium-sized box he truly feels like a giant. He picks the house up and sets it up on the desk. Ready to offer a hand for Y/N on the floor, he is surprised to not see her there anymore. Instead, he hears a voice call his name from the desk.

“Thank ya for helping me out, I really appreciate the books!” She says.

Noticing the awe on his face from the miniaturized objects she explains: “Stark shrinks everything for me, that’s how I get by. Got everything I need in here so I never gotta come out unless I need more groceries.”

Loki assumed that a life like that could get very lonely, but he said nothing as he had before. He only kneeled to be level with her carrying on a conversation that actually held his interest.

Soon after that day Y/N and Loki started hanging around each other much more often. Finding themselves in the library together, watching a movie of the book they had both read, or simply eating together. Her small stature proved to be no hindrance in their friendship, other than Y/N purposely avoiding his hands. One night as they sat down in Loki’s room (since Loki couldn't fit in Y/N’s) ready to watch a movie on the television that Y/N had practically begged Loki to put in his quarters. She sat on the arm of the deep green couch he had placed in his room, looking a tad uncomfy. She munched on a shrunken-down bag of Goldfish. Earlier, while in the kitchen she had dragged the towering bag towards him with pleading eyes. She perched on the cushion every time they watched films together but this time she looked lonesome there all by herself. With gentleness in his voice, he asked Y/N casually if she would like to sit upon his shoulder.

Y/N’s posture became rigid. But surprisingly she agreed. He figured she would start scaling his shoulder but she waited as if expecting something.

His hand.

He realized it when her eyes flickered towards the one closest to her so he obliged. Slowly as if approaching a scared kitten his hand unfolded to display flattened fingers that she could step easily onto. She stood up slowly and neared his index finger. Her impossibly tiny hand on his digit made him twitch minutely. He cursed himself inwardly for such actions that he could not control. She sat in the dip of his palm weighing nothing more than a feather, and his breath caught in his throat at her fragility. He lifted his hand slowly to his right shoulder and waited patiently for her to dismount onto the broad platform. Tiny grunts of effort reached his ear as she situated herself nearer to his neck, her movements raising goosebumps on his skin. The small noises stopped as she finally found a comfortable spot.

“Are you comfortable?” Loki asked, making sure to keep his voice low.

“Y-yeah, I’ve never been on a shoulder before. You’re really warm.” Her voice was very clear and easy to hear when she was right next to his ear. Perhaps he should do this more often. Loki smiled at her comment, happy to provide comfort for his tiny friend.

Y/N and Loki had criticized the characters and plot the whole way through the film. Well maybe halfway for Y/N as she had fallen asleep upon his shoulder. Little breaths and snores escaped her mouth bringing a smile to Loki’s lips. Gently he brought her down from his shoulder into his cupped palms, trying to not wake her. Her little frame was dwarfed by the immensity of his hands. Despite the big-boss attitude she brought he was reminded of her delicateness. He walked to her room with a careful gait and came upon her house. There was no way his entire hand could fit through the door, and he wasn’t going to leave her there on the floor. So he turned around and headed to his own room once again.

Perhaps on a pillow, she would be comfortable, but he worried she’d become cold as she had mentioned before how sensitive she was to the elements. Out of pure instinct because it was a rather warm and soft place he placed her upon his chest. As he did so he realized how much his breathing could affect her and immediately tried to restrict his chest from rising and falling. That caused his heart to beat even harder and faster thumping rapidly under Y/N’s body causing her to slightly move. Eventually, he found a normal rhythm in both patterns of his normal body functions and drifted to sleep.

Y/N awoke to an unfamiliar but comforting rocking and thumping sensation. Blinking her eyes open tiredly she looked at the undulating expanse of black cotton fabric that surrounded her. Her gaze snapped up to Loki’s face. He slept soundly, not disturbed by her awakening. The puffs of air from the exhale he released faintly blew her face. How did he not have morning breath? She wondered how she had gotten up here on his chest, or even in his bed. She remembered falling asleep on his shoulder but couldn't he have woken her or set her in her bed in her house? Then she realized: His hand was probably too big and Loki cared much for her sleeping schedule, and he would feel guilty if he had awoken her from slumber. Loki soon awoke and greeted Y/N with a sleepy smile. He said nothing about the sleeping situation. In the nights to come, Y/N would find her bed less comfortable than Loki’s chest, his hand atop her warmer than her fluffiest blanket. An odd comfort, yet, soothing in its gentility and peacefulness.

Y/N had rarely been outside. With a grand height of two and a half inches, the world outside was a much more dangerous place than here in the tower. But with Loki, perhaps she could change that…

“Hey Loki,” Y/N climbs onto the book he currently reads, leaving little footprints of dust behind from her dirty boots. Loki notices this and pinches her waist lifting her so he can close the book allowing her to stand on the cover.

“Yes, little Y/N?” Loki has taken a liking to the nickname and to his surprise, Y/N hasn’t commented on it either.

“Do ya think we could maybe go outside on a walk or something?” She asks with nerves in her voice, she doesn’t want her request to be rejected.

“I see no problem with that as long as you stay on my person the entire time. You can even sit on my shoulder, I’ll be able to cast an illusion to make you unseen to others’ eyes.”

Y/N beams and her mood is immediately uplifted, all anxiety gone.

“Oh my goodness yes! Let me go get my sunglasses and my sandals. Oh!” Y/N keeps naming off things as she sprints back to her room excitement in every step.

Loki laughs loudly at her rambling, a blush rising to his cheeks.

The sun warms Y/N’s body as she perches on Loki’s shoulder, true to his word, no one spies the two-inch girl. Loki’s gait rocks her with every step and she clings to his shirt collar for support. The sky is blue with a gentle breeze in the air cooling the warmness around them. Loki wears his black hair in a low bun; before they had walked outside he insisted on wearing it up, worried the dark strands would get in Y/N’s way. They enjoy each other’s company in a comfortable silence until Loki asks her if she likes ice cream. It had been a while since she had tasted the delicacy and sweetness of the cold treat. After her run-in with the whole shrinking episode, she had been on her own for quite a bit. Scavenging for food when it came, she was not picky in the slightest. Ice cream was a dessert she came by not too often.

“What is your favorite flavor?” She asks Loki before they walk into the small shop.

Loki ponders for a moment wetting his lips with a swipe of his tongue.

“I like vanilla.” He states, making Y/N turn towards him with astonishment.

“Vanilla! That’s like the plainest one yet! Come on, you gotta have a better one than that.” She exclaims.

Ignoring her disagreement with his choice, he asks: “What is your favorite?”

“Oh definitely, one hundred percent cotton candy.” She says without missing a beat.

“That’s terribly sweet don’t you think? I believe vanilla is the better choice here.”

“Hey! I like my choice very much, thank you!” She laughs lightly hitting his jaw, watching as his face lifts with a smile from their playful banter. The rest of the day played out nicely after they had both eaten their ice creams. Loki offered to shrink Y/N’s but she insisted she’d rather have more to eat. He had laughed a full belly laugh when she ended up falling into the mound of ice cream herself. He had used his magic to clean her up.

The next day Loki found out that Y/N and he were put on a mission together. Infiltrate an enemy base to get valuable information. Easy enough he thought. He was wrong. Turns out keeping an eye on a tiny person is harder than it sounds.

Halfway into the mission, Y/N’s voice went quiet on his headset. She had been tasked with exploring the vents for easier access to the archive room where the records they needed were kept. He had no way to physically reach her, because of his size. The best he could hope for was her voice to sound in his ear again through the headset. Anxiety pumped through him, his mind coming up with terrible scenarios that could’ve happened already. He tried to keep a clear head, focusing on the task at hand. He made it to a doorway held guard with two men carrying heavy guns. He simply illusioned himself as another soldier, using the keycard he had swiped off the soldier he was illusioned as of now. Making it into the security room he checked the cameras for any sign of Y/N. To his horror, he saw that they also had cameras in the air vents. Where Y/N had been previously.

He exited the room in a calm fashion while panicking immensely on the outside. Running his hands through his hair, he paced back and forth. He usually kept a clear head in stressful situations, but the thought of losing Y/N made him sick with worry and terror. That’s when he felt a weight hit his boot. He immediately looked down and saw Y/N’s panting, exhausted form sprawled out on the toe of his shoe. He knelt quickly scooping her up, bringing her to his eye level. She rolled over to meet his gaze.

“Are you alright, what happened? You worried me sick?” Loki blurted.

She held up a rectangular box showing it to Loki. The flash drive.

“Got it. But we gotta move, there are cameras in those vents, and I’m pretty positive they caught sight of a certain tiny person.”

Loki groaned with aggravation but was relieved to have his tiny friend back in his grasp.

He dropped Y/N into his pocket gently, he had asked that most of his clothes come with pockets from now on to hold Y/N safely with him.

“Remind me to never let you out of my sight again.” Loki jokes.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

That night after hot showers and a good meal Loki and Y/N were ready to go to sleep. Y/N laid peacefully on Loki’s chest, rising with his every breath. Loki lay down with a hand over his eyes. But a certain nagging question still held his mind from sleep.

“Y/N, how did you get to be…” He can't finish the last word, worried he’ll bring up unwanted emotions and memories.

“How’d I get so small?” Y/N finishes for him.

“You don't have to tell me if you don't want to.” He reminds with a gentle fingertip rubbing circles onto her back.

“No, no...I need to tell someone. I’ve been keeping it under lock and key but I trust you Lokesters.”

He smiled at the new nickname she had given him watching as she turned towards him, sitting criss-cross. He propped his head with his hands to see her clearly.

“I didn’t have the best parents out there. They struggled with bills, because they were too worried about getting their drugs, So one night when I was ten years old they took me to a restaurant. We never went to restaurants, kind of a fancy thing for me you know? I was excited and had gotten my favorite blue dress on to go. I started to realize they had lied to me when we passed the restaurant and kept driving. They took me to a HYDRA base, but I didn't know that at the time, all because they wanted money. So they gave me up for experiments and left me for their high.”

Y/N took a deep breath to stop the tears from coming and continued.

“The scientists or whatever strapped me down to a table and stuck me with this needle. Well, I guess you know what happened and they kept me for three years in a cage with all types of different tests to measure my strengths. They were tortuous, so I had to escape and I did. But when I was about thirteen and a half I was able to sneak away. I lived in boxes on the streets, outside under rocks, trying to scavenge by. Even met a couple borrowers like you were reading bout’. They were awfully nice fellows but were barely getting by themselves so I couldn’t take off of them. But one day I was stealing or whatever you wanna call it and got caught by no other than Nick Fury himself. Told me he needed little guys like myself and offered me a place to stay, food to eat, and a job of my own. So I took it and here I am.”

Loki was astonished by the strength of this small girl, how she’d survived through such hardships and still had a good heart and kind soul. He hugged her closer to his chest, careful not to smother her.

“Well little one, you got me now and I'm not going anywhere.”

Y/N popped her head out from his grasp and eyed with scrutiny.

“Even for the Tesseract?” She asked.

Loki laughed and hugged her again, watching as she embraced him as well.

“Even for the Tesseract.”

———————————————————————

Please reblog if you liked it! Lots of love ❤️

#giant loki #loki laufeyson #Loki fanfic #giant/tiny #tiny reader #shrunken reader #marvel #gt marvel

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iclaimedtobethebetterbard · 4 years ago

Text

one chance to change your fate - chapter 9

Fandom: Sanders Sides Characters: All the sides, character!Thomas, Nico Flores, Dragon Witch (villain), background OCs Rating: Teen & up (see Warnings) Relationships: Loceit, eventual Dukexiety, Royality, background Karrot Kings Warnings: Language; some sexual innuendo/references; lack of self-worth Word count: 3894 Notes: a big big thank you to my awesome beta @yougoodfahm!

Read on AO3!

My writing masterpost

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Chapter 9

Logan had finished the bulk of the work on his sleeping draughts some time ago. He’d set the vat of potion to simmer—it needed a good six hours before it could be bottled and left to age in a dark room for three weeks—and had settled into the armchair with a large mug of tea and a book he’d borrowed from the palace library an hour or so after lunchtime. It was a quiet afternoon; very peaceful. The book, a text on the history of gender and magic, was engaging; he was even able to set most of his worries about Janus and Roman to the side to deal with at a more productive time. All was quiet and still. He felt relaxed, mind fully engaged by his book, hardly aware of his silent surroundings.

The doorknob rattled, startling him, and Janus burst in. “Darling,” they sang out, “I’m going to commit fraud against the Crown! Do you want to help?”

Logan stared at them for a moment, struggling to form a response. “...What?”

Janus shut the door with a sharp click and dusted their hands off briskly. “You heard me. Fraud. Against our dear employers. It’s very simple. Get with the program, love.” They clapped their hands twice, coming over to stand before him. “Are you coming?” They looked at him expectantly.

“Very funny,” Logan said, marking his place and closing the book. “I didn’t expect you’d be back so early—how is Patton doing?” He got to his feet and leaned up to kiss them hello.

Janus kissed back, eager and sparking and yet somehow almost perfunctory, and pulled away far more quickly than usual. “No, it’s not a joke,” they informed him. “And I need you to—”

Logan did some very fast mental math and held up a finger. Janus fell silent at once and looked at him questioningly.

“Enough sarcasm, dear,” Logan said loudly, still holding up a silencing finger to Janus as he crossed to the door. He licked the pad of his thumb to dampen it, and, when it began glowing purple, used it to draw a rune on the door.

“Logan—Logan? What the hell is that?” Janus asked, sounding absolutely baffled.

“Well, I assume nobody is listening in on us, either physically or with magic. But better not to take chances,” he explained. “Now nobody outside will be able to hear us. So.” He pressed his hands together and turned to face Janus fully. “Please explain.” He began ticking questions off on his fingers. “What’s this about fraud? Are you actually serious? Why?”

Janus looked at him incredulously. “No, I meant—you’re not going to explain the glowing spit?”

“Wh—oh, that. Making the sleeping draughts uses magic, and my person is still imbued with power from it. It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” Logan waved his hand dismissively. “It’s completely harmless in licensed hands.” He allowed himself a small, smug smile. “Which I am.”

“Yes, you’re very clever, darling.” Janus patted his hand; their expression became interested, a thought clearly occurring to them. “Would it taste different if we made out?” Their eyes widened, snake pupil dilating. “Would it feel different if you—”

Logan held up his hand with a sigh. “Dearest, we’ve been over this. ‘Can we use this for sex?’ is never the appropriate first reaction when learning something new about magic.”

Janus crossed their arms. “But you just said it was, and I quote, ‘completely harmless.’” Their expression went mischievous. “So, can we?”

“Well, in fact—” Logan forcibly reined himself in. “No, actually, hold on. While these are fascinating questions that I would be happy to discuss with you in depth at a later—”

“And perhaps demonstrate?” Janus interjected slyly, their gaze flicking down to his lips.

Logan considered the way Janus’s voice would sound breathing out his name, half praise and half plea, and the way their hands would cling to him so sweetly. He found himself highly amenable to such a prospect. “Perhaps,” he agreed, making a very deliberate eye contact that made Janus visibly swallow, “but at a later date.” He forced himself to refocus; there were more pressing matters at hand. “For now, can we please circle back to the part where you asked me to help you commit a crime against the Crown and then said you were serious?”

“Oh, alright, if you insist,” Janus said in a tone that suggested Logan was being a dreadfully stuffy old bore. “It’s very simple, really. Look!” They opened the satchel slung over their shoulder and carefully pulled out a parchment. They displayed this to him, a proud grin splitting their face.

The first thing Logan registered about the paper was the trio of very official seals—the Kingdom of Flores general government seal, the Capitol Official Records seal, and the General Houses of Flores Nobility seal—all stamped large and bold in brightly colored wax on the lower right corner of the document. The second thing was the large, decorative font across the top—Record of Nobility.

The third was the name, which should not have been there at all.

“Official Record of Nobility,” he read aloud, taking the document from their hands. “This document states that the title of Lord shall be associated with—Patton Peter Dufour in any and all legal capacities within the Kingdom of Flores?” He looked up from the paper, his head spinning. “Janus, where did you get this?” He looked back down at it, in case he had somehow misread it and it had changed into something more logical. “How did you get this?”

“It was easy!” Janus bounced on the balls of their feet, looking incredibly smug. “Remember all the paperwork I had to do when I changed my name?”

Logan set the parchment down on the table, staring at Janus in wordless horror as his mind connected the dots. “Dearest, please tell me you didn’t—”

“I never got around to my title,” Janus rushed on gleefully, and Logan put his head in his hands. “So I went in today, and I filled out Patton’s information instead of my own, and now he’s eligible to enter the contest, at least as far as the records they’ll consult are concerned. So now I just need to break into the room with the contest records and modify the guest list to have his name on it, and then everything will be fine again!”

“Wh—Janus, dear, that’s so dangerous, what were you thinking?” Logan said helplessly, taking their hands in his own and clutching them like he could retroactively protect them.

“I was thinking that Patton is more important to me than most things in this world,” Janus said, a steely note entering their tone and their stance shifting just slightly into a more defensive one, even as they laced their fingers with his and lifted one of his hands up to press a gentle kiss to the back of it. “And I did it, anyway. It’s over. So you don’t need to yell at me.” They gave him a petulant look. “I know it was against the law, and I fully intend to do worse things before the day is out, alright? So if you must scold me for something, pick the biggest one.”

“I—I’m sorry, I need a minute,” Logan said faintly. “Can we sit down?”

Janus let go of his hands and pulled out a chair from the table for him; when he sat, they settled themself on the ground before him, clasping their hands over his knee. They looked up at him with their full attention, their eyes big and round and their lips softly parted, as if absolutely captivated by the sight of his face.

“We have multiple chairs,” Logan said, reaching to caress their cheek.

“I like the floor.” They fluttered their eyelashes at him, all doe eyes and patently fake innocence. “And you give me such nice attention when I do this.” Their gaze flicked downwards for a moment, then back up to his face.

Logan stifled a smirk. “You are an incorrigible flirt,” he informed them.

“Well, you are incorrigibly handsome.” Janus shrugged, a smile playing at the corners of their mouth. “I don’t know what you want me to do about it besides adore you.”

Logan’s breath caught on a pang of affection and all he could do was look at them in wordless, tender awe for a moment. He bent down, cupping Janus’s face in his hands as they leaned up to meet him, and caught a glimpse of their very pleased expression in the half-second before his eyes slid shut and he kissed them, the tip of their nose cold where it pressed against his cheek.

Janus slid their fingers beneath the collar of Logan’s waistcoat, dragged him closer by it, and kissed him back enthusiastically, still on their knees but pressing up to be closer, closer to him, clinging to him and melting into the kiss.

Logan pulled back, still cupping Janus’s cheek in his hand, sitting back up as Janus resettled themself on their knees. “You are precious to me,” he told them, relishing the smile they bit back and the way they leaned just a little more into his touch as he ran his thumb along their scales.

For a brief moment, there was nothing but Janus and Logan, and all was right with the world. Logan began to let his hand drop back to his side.

Raw, unfiltered panic splashed itself across Janus’s features, and in an instant, they seized his hand and all but slammed it back against the scales on their cheek.

Logan froze, an answering panic spiking in his own veins at Janus’s distress.

Janus squeezed their eyes shut, clearly fighting to get control over their expression. They didn’t let go of his hand, pressing it hard against their cheek, their grip so tight it was painful.

Logan continued to hold quite still, examining them and trying to puzzle out what had just happened. “Janus?”

“Hmm?” Janus responded, their voice strained, opening their eyes and smiling wide but not meeting his gaze and still not letting go of his hand.

“Are you—?” Logan began.

“Please don’t ask me if I’m alright,” Janus interrupted, their tone pitched sweet in a way that didn’t quite hide the tremble in their voice and their smile going brittle. “I need to not think about it yet. There’s too much to do.”

Logan was silent for a moment, not liking this request at all. At last he reached out with his free hand and gently uncurled their hand from where it was still clutching his. He rubbed his thumb back and forth across the scales on their cheekbone and lifted their scaled hand to his lips.

The corners of Janus’s mouth twitched with what looked like another wave of suppressed emotion, their gaze latching onto their own hand.

“You are precious,” Logan repeated, this time without qualifiers, his lips brushing against their hand as he spoke.

One side of Janus’s mouth lifted in a rueful smirk that Logan clocked as disbelief, but they did not contest his statement aloud.

“Dear, you know—” Logan began.

“Logan,” Janus interrupted, voice raw and shaking, “I have felt more emotions since breakfast than I think I have experienced in the last five weeks put together, and if you make me think about even one more right now, I am going to cry and I won’t be able to stop.” They squeezed his hand desperately, perhaps seeking to ground themself. “And I need to not do that now. Please.”

Logan hesitated, mouth full of a dozen things he wanted to say.

None of them were what Janus was asking to hear.

At last, though it hurt, he nodded once in acknowledgement of their request. He would not force this conversation right now.

He didn’t miss Janus’s obvious relief at this; they let out their breath in a long sigh, shoulders relaxing along with their grip on his hand.

Logan let his hand rest on the top of their head and began stroking their hair. “So,” he began, fumbling for what to say. A new topic of conversation seemed to be what Janus wanted, and Logan still had questions that needed answering. “Let me see if I understand this—this plan you have with the document of lordship.”

Janus drew in a breath, straightened their shoulders, and nodded. “I need to put Patton’s name on the guest list for the contest,” they said, some of their brisk energy from earlier returning.

“Which was closed last night,” Logan said, beginning to see their dilemma.

Janus nodded. “Exactly. Which is why I need to find the list and change it, instead of just submitting his name.”

“And you want me to help.” Logan grimaced. He hated to tell them no when it was clearly so important to them, but it was… well, it was out of the question. It was far too risky.

But perhaps, for Janus—no. No. It was out of the question; he shouldn’t even be thinking about it. This was exactly why he hated bringing emotions into problems that would be much simpler without them. It only made things difficult and left one unhappy with every option.

Janus nodded in confirmation of his words, making Logan’s heart sink a little further. “I assume magical forgery is much easier and higher-quality,” they explained.

“Correct.” That was a simple fact. Far easier to deal with than ethics and emotions. He could handle facts. He liked facts. Facts never made him feel conflicted and bad inside.

“I’m also guessing,” Janus went on, looking at Logan with an altogether far too knowing expression, “that you know how to do magical forgery.”

Logan looked away. He was not some predictable man whose habits and knowledge could be guessed by his partner. He—well—“In theory, yes,” he admitted. “I did some research in university—purely out of curiosity, of course—”

“Oh, of course.” Janus’s tone dripped with honeyed sarcasm.

“It was! I didn’t do anything!” Logan protested.

“I don’t know, you say that awfully quickly,” Janus teased. “Seems suspicious.”

Logan made a helpless gesture. “I—what would I have possibly—”

“I’m only joking, darling.” Janus patted his hand. “So,” they mused, “you know how to do it. And….” They gazed up at him shrewdly. “I think you don’t like the idea of doing it now.”

Logan drew in a deep breath and let it out again, half relieved and half unhappy that they’d brought this aspect up. “We swore an oath of loyalty to the kings, dear. The idea of going against it so flagrantly irks me deeply. Not to mention the consequences such a crime carries, should we be found out.” He really shouldn’t be considering this at all, honestly. Anything other than a firm no was completely and utterly illogical.

So why was something painful tugging almost physically inside his chest at the idea of rejecting Janus’s plea?

“We swore our loyalty to the Crown,” he repeated stubbornly, wishing that just applying his logic harder would stamp out the conflict inside him.

“Well, my loyalty is to Roman first, not to a political idea that he is forced to stand for. And this is for him. It—” Janus’s jaw worked for a moment. “It’s not… entirely his fault, what happened.” They frowned, glancing away. “Don’t tell him I said that.”

Logan chewed on the inside of his cheek, frantically sorting through arguments. “Dear—” he began, and was hit with just what to say.

He hesitated. This felt manipulative. He knew how much it meant to them; it felt dirty and wrong to use it against them.

But it was the truth. It was a fact. Facts could be used to reason himself a way out of this dilemma. Couldn’t they?

“The kings put their trust in you,” he said, the words heavy in his mouth.

“That’s not fair, Logan,” Janus said immediately, not even bothering to mask the hurt that flashed across their face at his words.

Logan winced. “I know,” he said apologetically, and pushed on. “But they did. And this would be a betrayal of that trust.”

Janus hesitated, brows drawing together and lips trembling with a distress that Logan couldn’t help but wish to kiss away, even knowing that he had been the cause of it. “I…” they began, something in their face crumpling, and trailed off.

Logan forced himself to wait without speaking, resisting the urge to take their face in his hands and murmur reassurances until the creases in their brow smoothed away.

Janus was silent, staring at the ground, and Logan dared to hope he might have swayed them.

But the face Janus raised to him at last was one of unhappy resignation. “Then I’m a traitor,” they said, voice bleak and small but not wavering.

“Janus—” Logan protested.

“Roman is more important. Patton is more important. And I’ve already gone in deep enough that I can’t turn back.” Janus indicated the parchment lying on the table with Patton’s name scrawled across it. They pressed a palm to his and laced their fingers together, looking up at him. “Will you help me?”

The question lingered in the air between them, direct and challenging. Asking Logan to choose. Facts or feelings. Logic or Janus.

He could never choose anything other than Janus.

He was afraid to choose anything other than logic.

Logan sidestepped the question. If he could simply talk Janus out of this idea, he wouldn’t have to choose. “It is very illegal to tamper with official royal documents, dearest.”

Janus held his gaze. “I know,” they said, quiet and somber. “I know, Logan. I am walking into this with my eyes open.”

Logan struggled with his wording, not quite sure what he wanted to say. “You are asking… a lot of me here.”

Janus was silent for a long moment. “Please,” they mumbled at last. “I want Patton to be safe. Please help me.” Their voice cracked, with just the slightest tremble.

There was another silence, one that felt very much like they were each waiting to see who would figuratively blink first.

“But I’ll go by myself, if you won’t,” Janus added. An olive branch crossing the tension between them. An out he could take without having to make a decision.

Logan hesitated still, turning several thoughts over in his head. “Is there nothing I can say to talk you out of this?”

“Well, I wouldn’t be very likely to tell you if there were, now would I?” Janus said with a touch of snark. They visibly bit back whatever they had been about to say next and rested their head on his knee, leaning into his touch as his hand automatically went to stroke their hair. “But—no,” Janus went on, a frightening calm to their voice. “I will do whatever it takes to see this done.”

Logan was silent. Every ounce of his common sense said not to do it. It was a terrible idea on many levels. He could even see a case being made for counting it as treason, in the worst-case scenario—after all, meddling with the list of contestants was, in essence, attempting to manipulate the circumstances of a royal marriage. Attempting to influence the princes’ choice in someone who could have a say in political decisions for decades to come. And it was Janus’s brother, to make it worse; how could that not look like the worst kind of ulterior motive on Janus’s part, were it discovered?

It would be far better for everyone to just let the whole mess be, and abandon Roman and Patton to get over their feelings for each other.

That was the logical choice.

Janus, who had been watching his face intently, sighed, their shoulders slumping. “Very well. I’ll be back.” They began to get to their feet, clasping his hands and squeezing in farewell.

Something inside Logan protested loudly, digging its heels in. This wasn’t what he wanted. He hadn’t finished choosing—Janus couldn’t choose for him.

Especially since it looked like they weren’t choosing themself.

But Janus was leaving, now on their feet and turning away, and everything was suddenly all wrong and moving too fast and Logan needed to stop it but he wasn’t sure why and if he didn’t move now it would be too late—

Janus paused in the doorway, slim fingers resting lightly on the doorknob. “Please don’t turn me in while I’m gone,” they joked wryly, half-turned so that he could only see the silhouette of their bent head.

And just like that, they were gone, and Logan was still frozen in his chair, staring at the rune glowing on the door they’d closed behind them.

This wasn’t what he’d wanted.

He didn’t know what he wanted. But not this. Not Janus leaving all on their own with a plan that would never succeed without magic. (It wasn’t that he doubted Janus’s capability, at least no more than he doubted the capability of, well, everyone who was not himself; it was just that his own skill set was simply better.)

Unbidden images flashed through Logan’s mind: Janus, without magic to silence their footsteps or hide all traces of their meddling, caught in the act. Janus, for all their quicksilver mind and clever lies, unable to spin the situation into something innocent. Janus seized by guards and trying desperately not to show how frightened they were. Janus thrown out of the palace, or worse, in the dungeon. Janus with bruises on their skin, put there not by Logan’s mouth in tender moments, but by unfriendly hands seeking to hurt. Janus hurt or disgraced or exiled or dead.

Janus losing everything, because they were too stubborn to know when they were in over their head—or too stubborn to care, even when they did know it.

Logan was on his feet and halfway across the room before he realized he still didn’t know what to do. But he didn’t care. He paused for only a second to smear his hand across the rune on the door, breaking it and causing the magic glow to fade away, then closed the door behind himself so carelessly it was almost a slam and hastened down the hall in search of Janus.

It took him only a few moments to locate them. They were striding in the direction of the center of the castle, where the hub that connected all the different areas of the building to each other could be found. Logan picked up his pace, closing the gap between them somewhat.

Janus didn’t slow their pace, though he could tell by the change in their posture that they’d heard his footsteps behind them. “You can’t change my mind, Logan,” they said without turning, a frustrated bite to their tone.

Logan hurried to catch up the last few steps to them and caught their wrist, dragging them to a stop. “I—wait,” he said desperately. They couldn’t do this on their own. He couldn’t allow them to throw themself recklessly into danger like this. He just—it was out of the question.

But they were right. He couldn’t change their mind, either.

Janus was looking back at him, allowing their slender wrist to rest in his grasp, a question that was almost hope written in their eyes.

Logan swallowed and pushed aside logic. “I’ll do it.”

Taglist (ask to be added/removed!): @theimprobabledreamersworld @the-sympathetic-villain @crazydemigod666 @nightweirdo

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pinktwingirl · 4 years ago

Text

Loki Series Rewrite (AKA Loki Series But With Squirrel Girl) Ep 3

INT. TVA - DAY

Loki is attacking Sylvie. Suddenly, Doreen enters and rushes up to them.

DOREEN

Loki, catch!

She tosses him a prune stick. Loki takes it and he starts fighting Sylvie with her. During the battle, Doreen manages to overpower Sylvie and tackle her to the ground. Doreen holds her knuckle spikes to Sylvie's throat, but Sylvie twists her arm and kicks Loki's prune stick away. Sylvie then kicks Doreen's face and grabs Loki. Doreen freezes when she sees Sylvie is holding a dagger to Loki's throat. Just then, Ravonna and several other agents enter.

SYLVIE

Come any closer, and I'll kill him.

RAVONNA

Go for it.

Doreen glares at her. Before she can attack, Loki whips out his tem-pad, causing himself and Sylvie to disappear.

We cut to later, when Mobius, Ravonna, and Doreen are standing where Loki and Sylvie vanished.

DOREEN

(to Ravonna)

Thanks for nothing.

RAVONNA

I called her bluff. I knew she wasn't going to do it.

DOREEN

Yeah. Sure.

MOBIUS

Where the hell did they go?

DOREEN

You don't know?

MOBIUS

Loki took the tem-pad with him. We can't find his location if we don't have it.

(He groans in frustration.)

That bastard! He directly disobeyed me! I knew I shouldn't have trusted him!

DOREEN

He probably just wanted to know what was going on! Look, I can find him with-

(She takes out her Loki locket, only to see that it is broken.)

Shit...

MOBIUS

What?

DOREEN

This thing must've gotten damaged in the fight.

MOBIUS

Can't you just fix it?

DOREEN

It's not that simple. Thor let me borrow parts of rare Asgardian technology to build this. They were some of the last parts they had, so I would have to go back in time to Asgard to get more. And... I have no idea where I would even begin to start looking there.

Mobius sighs.

MOBIUS

Alright, look, I'll search through our files on Asgard to see what I can find. In the meantime, just try to salvage what you can, and don't dilly-dally. Every moment those variants are on the loose, we're all in danger.

INT. TVA OFFICE - DAY

Doreen is trying to work on the locket to no avail. She slams it down and sighs. Just then, her squirrel Monkey Joe hops up on the table, carrying spare parts. He sets them down and squeaks at her.

DOREEN

No... Those won't work, Monkey Joe. We need gear that can navigate through both space and time.

Looking dejected, Monkey Joe lets out a few sad squeaks. Doreen pets him and gives him an almond as consolation.

DOREEN

I know, buddy, you tried your best...

Doreen's other squirrels, Tippy-Toe and Mr. Lieberman join Monkey Joe to eat pieces of the almond. Just then, CASEY turns around and peers at the squirrels in horror.

CASEY

What are those?

(Beat)

DOREEN

Um, almonds? Want some?

CASEY

No, the... things eating them...

Doreen raises an eyebrow.

DOREEN

They're squirrels.

CASEY

"Squirrels?"

DOREEN

What, you've never seen a squirrel before?

CASEY

No... I've spent my whole life here, so I've never seen any animals at all.

Doreen looks mortified.

DOREEN

That's the saddest thing I've ever heard in my life...

INT. TVA LIBRARY - DAY

Mobius is looking through various old books on shelves. He pauses when he flips through a book that has Asgardian writing and a map of Asgard.

INT. TVA OFFICE - DAY

Doreen is showing Casey pictures of different types of squirrels on her phone as Casey looks on in wonder.

DOREEN

So, this here is a red squirrel. I just love their little pointy ears! Ooh, and these ones are extra rare: The Japanese flying squirrel! Look at their beady little eyes! And their fluffy tail! You can only find these in one island on all of Earth!

CASEY

Wow... That's amazing!

Just then, Mobius walks in.

MOBIUS

Doreen!

Doreen quickly slams her phone down.

DOREEN

Uhhh, yes, sir, we are hard at work!

She does an awkward salute. Mobius frowns at her.

MOBIUS

I found this book in our library.

(He flips to a page that has a drawing of Odin's treasure room with a description written in Asgardian.)

This look familiar?

Doreen frowns as she peers at the book.

DOREEN

This is all in Asgardian. I can't read it.

MOBIUS

Forget the text; look at the picture.

He points to a section of the drawing where several golden parts are stored in the treasure room. Doreen's eyes widen.

DOREEN

Oh my God... I think that's it!

Mobius grins.

MOBIUS

Yeah? You think you could go get it if I sent you to Asgard, say, a couple decades in the past?

DOREEN

Sure, I mean... All I would have to do is find Odin's treasure room... wherever that is, somehow break in, get the parts, and then, by some miracle, get out undetected, and then we're home free!

MOBIUS

Easy!

DOREEN

Easy!

(She pats him on the back.)

Good job, Moby! I might need a change of clothes, though.

MOBIUS

What's wrong with your clothes?

DOREEN

I mean, I can't just walk into Asgard like this; I'd stick out like a sore thumb!

Mobius sighs.

MOBIUS

Alright, I'll see if we have any old stuff from the Asgardian variants we've taken in. But study that book and maybe try to come up with a halfway coherent plan for sneaking in. I'll set the portal to send you back to the same moment in time once you're done, so you can take however long you need to look for the parts. But don't use that as an excuse to sight-see!

He chuckles under his breath as he walks away.

MOBIUS

"Moby"...

INT. LAMENTIS-1 TRAIN - NIGHT

Loki and Sylvie are chatting on the train.

SYLVIE

How about you? You're a prince! Must've been... would-be princesses. Or, perhaps, another prince?

LOKI

A bit of both. I suspect, the same as you. But nothing ever...

SYLVIE

Real.

LOKI

Hmm.

(Beat)

SYLVIE

What about your mortal girl? What was her name? Doreen?

Loki raises an eyebrow.

SYLVIE

She seems nice.

LOKI

Oh, I'm sure she'd appreciate that, coming from the person who practically kicked her face in.

SYLVIE

Hey, when she's on the run, a girl's got to do what a girl's got to do.

LOKI

And, no, she's... just an acquaintance.

Sylvie raises an eyebrow and smirks.

INT. ASGARD PALACE, 1960 - NIGHT

Doreen enters the palace through a portal in a pretty, albeit slightly ill-fitting blue Asgardian dress, with her hair done up like all the other noble ladies. As she wanders around, she spots a crowd of noble ladies in ballgowns chatting and laughing while they walk. She tries to inconspicuously join the group, when a MAID calls out to her.

MAID

Um, pardon me, my lady?

Doreen freezes to see if the maid is talking to her.

MAID

Do you not have something to wear for tonight?

DOREEN

I... Um... Well, I was just going to wear this... very Asgardian dress...

MAID

Do you... have anything a little more formal? I trust you haven't forgotten that the ball is tonight?

DOREEN

Uh... Right... Yes... Of course... Um...

MAID

We have some spare dresses if you'd like to borrow one. I'm sure the queen wouldn't mind.

Doreen hesitates for a moment.

DOREEN

A-alright... Thank you.

She follows the maid into a corridor.

INT. CHANGING ROOM - MOMENTS LATER

Doreen sits in front of a mirror while the maid styles her hair. She has a layer of light, pretty makeup on her face.

MAID

Have you decided which dress you'd like, my lady?

DOREEN

Oh... I liked the green one.

The maid raises an eyebrow.

MAID

Are we... hoping for something?

DOREEN

Wh-what do you mean?

MAID

Well, if you're wearing the colors of Prince Loki, some might think you were... trying to get his attention.

(Beat)

DOREEN

W-will he be there?

MAID

He should. I must warn you that he detests these types of social events, though. At last winter's ball, he projected an illusion of himself in the ballroom to make it seem like he was present when he was really in his room reading books the whole night.

Doreen grins.

MAID

Shall I help you put on your dress?

DOREEN

(Lost in thought)

Yeah...

(Her head shoots up as she comes back to her senses.)

U-uh, I mean, no! No, no, no! I... I can do it myself...

INT. ASGARDIAN BALLROOM, 1960 - NIGHT

Loki is standing off to the side while Thor, Sif, and the Warriors Three talk and drink. They are all dressed in their outfits from 2011 Thor. Thor downs a mug of ale.

THOR

Another!

He smashes his drink on the ground and Loki rolls his eyes. Thor approaches him and claps him on the back - a little too hard. Loki grunts and gives him an irritated look.

THOR

Come on, brother... You could at least try to have a little fun!

Loki scoffs.

LOKI

Watching every maiden in the palace fawn over you and Fandral is not my idea of fun.

Thor laughs.

THOR

Loki... Must you be so down? You can't spend all your time shut up in your room reading all those books and doing your little magic spells.

LOKI

Why not? I'd infinitely prefer it to this.

Before Thor can say another word, Loki walks off. A SERVANT approaches him, carrying a tray with a goblet of wine on it.

SERVANT

Some wine, your highness?

Loki eagerly takes the goblet and drinks it, nearly downing the entire thing in one swig. He freezes when he sees something in the distance.

We pan up the staircase as we see Doreen descending down it, wearing an elegant green and gold dress. Her hair is done up in an intricate braid, with golden ornaments adorning it. She looks around the ballroom nervously, peering at different corridors in an attempt to find the treasure room. Never taking his eyes off her, Loki sets the goblet down on a table nearby and walks off-screen.

As Doreen makes her way across the ballroom, Tippy-Toe suddenly scurries off to a table where grapes and nuts are laid out.

DOREEN

Tippy!

(She rushes after her.)

We're supposed to be keeping a low profile!

Tippy-Toe gives her a pleading look and a few squeaks. Doreen sighs.

DOREEN

Alright, fine. But just one.

She hands Tippy-Toe a macadamia nut. As the squirrel eats her treat, we suddenly hear Loki's voice behind them. Startled, Doreen whirls around.

LOKI

As much as I'm sure your friend is pleasant company, the kitchen staff might not take kindly to seeing a rodent on the refreshment table.

Tippy-Toe cocks her head and gives him an inquisitive squeak. Loki smiles at her.

LOKI

No offense.

DOREEN

Ah... Y-You're right, um... Tippy, why don't you go eat that outside? I'll catch up with you later.

Tippy-Toe squeaks and runs off with her nut. Nervously wringing her hands, Doreen glances back at Loki, who smiles at her.

DOREEN

So, um... Are you... actually here this time, or is this just another one of your creepy illusions?

Loki smiles and extends his hand to her.

LOKI

Perhaps you should find out for yourself.

After hesitating for a moment, Doreen gingerly places her hand in his. Loki kisses the back of her hand, causing her to blush.

LOKI

I'm terribly sorry; I don't believe I caught your name?

DOREEN

U-um... Doreen.

LOKI

Well, Lady Doreen... Would you care for a dance?

DOREEN

Huh? O-oh, I, um... I-I don't... really know how...

LOKI

It's easy! I'll teach you! Here...

(He leads her into the center of the ballroom, where other couples are dancing.)

Just step forward like this... Then back... Right... Left...

Doreen glances nervously around the room as he leads her into a waltz.

LOKI

You don't have to watch what everyone else is doing; just follow my lead...

(Beat)

You're, um... You're stepping on my foot.

DOREEN

Oh, sorry!

They continue to chat as they dance.

LOKI

You know, I'm surprised a noble lady like yourself never learned to dance.

DOREEN

Oh, well, um... I don't... really like going to parties very much.

LOKI

Ah. I don't either, to be honest.

DOREEN

Then how'd you get to be so good at dancing? Are all the girls lining up to dance with the youngest prince of Asgard?

Loki laughs, embarrassed.

LOKI

Ah.... N-no, not exactly... That's... more Thor's forte. I... mostly learned from dancing with my mother.

Doreen grins.

DOREEN

Aww...

Loki laughs.

(Beat)

LOKI

You're stepping on my foot again.

DOREEN

Ack!

She takes her foot off of his.

LOKI

You know, I'm starting to think you're doing this on purpose.

DOREEN

I'm not!

After a pause, she grins devilishly and stomps on his foot, causing him to yelp in surprise.

DOREEN

Okay, maybe that was on purpose.

They both laugh. Doreen glances at his helmet.

DOREEN

That helmet looks... comfortable.

LOKI

Oh, it is.

DOREEN

Yeah, I don't believe you.

LOKI

Well, it only weighs about 30 pounds, give or take. It's like wearing a feather.

They both snicker.

DOREEN

Doesn't it ever throw you off balance?

LOKI

Not once you get used to it. You should try wearing it sometime. I'm sure you'd love it.

Doreen grins, laughing to herself.

DOREEN

Yeah, I'm sure...

LOKI

I, um... I must ask... Did you... wear green tonight deliberately? It is my favorite color, after all.

DOREEN

Oh, really? I never would've been able to tell!

They both laugh.

DOREEN

No, it, um... It's actually my favorite color, too, so...

LOKI

Ah.

DOREEN

Is that, like, something people actually do? I mean... wearing certain colors to get people to notice them?

LOKI

Well, sometimes, yes. I... admit, I... actually tried it once myself.

DOREEN

Oh yeah?

LOKI

A few years ago, there was a prince visiting from Vanaheim that I was... rather taken with. It was known that he loved silver, so I thought if I wore silver armor, I might... endear myself to him.

DOREEN

Did it work?

LOKI

(laughing)

No.

DOREEN

Well... I think you look better in green, anyway.

We cut to Thor standing with ODIN and FRIGGA on the far side of the ballroom, watching Loki and Doreen.

THOR

Mother, who is that Loki is dancing with?

FRIGGA

I'm not sure... I don't believe I've ever seen her around the palace before...

ODIN

Neither have I. I would wager she's merely the daughter of a poor social climber trying to pass himself off as a noble. Nothing to concern yourself with.

Thor grins as Odin walks off-screen.

THOR

Well, Loki seems to be finally enjoying himself...

They watch Loki twirl Doreen around as she giggles, her face flushed red. Frigga laughs.

FRIGGA

That's the first time I've seen him smile all day...

As they continue to dance, Doreen grows more nervous, suddenly unable to meet Loki's gaze, which never leaves her face. At one point, Loki places his hands around her waist and pulls her closer to him, causing her to tremble slightly. After hesitating, she gently places her hands on his shoulders. He smiles as the orchestra finishes playing.

DOREEN

How did I do?

LOKI

You're a fast learner. I'm impressed.

They smile at each other.

EXT. ASGARDIAN COURTYARD - NIGHT

Loki and Doreen chat as they walk through the garden in the palace courtyard, with Doreen drinking a cocktail in an elegant glass.

LOKI

I apologize if I come off as um... well, stiff... I have to admit this sort of thing is... well, it's rather new for me. I was never really very social growing up... Everyone always admired Thor for his physical strength, and, well... My own talents of magic and intellect are far less revered. The only friends I ever had, I met through Thor.

DOREEN

If it makes you feel any better, I didn't have any friends as a kid.

Loki raises an eyebrow.

LOKI

Not any?

Doreen shakes her head.

LOKI

Well, I... certainly wish we'd met sooner, then.

(Beat)

DOREEN

Yeah, me too.

LOKI

It's certainly never easy being an outcast... I've spent my whole life living in Thor's shadow... I know my father wishes I were more like him and his friends, but... All the brawn and muscle... It's just not who I am. I'm not like them.

DOREEN

Yeah, and, I mean, I'm sure being a frost giant and all must make you feel different, too...

Loki frowns.

LOKI

I beg your pardon?

Doreen's eyes widen, and she almost chokes on her drink.

DOREEN

U-Uh... I-I mean, um... Hypothetically speaking, if someone were... secretly a frost giant living in Asgard, that would... make them feel different, but, you know, that... wouldn't happen... ever...

She lets out a nervous laugh and sets her drink down on a nearby table as Loki blinks in confusion.

DOREEN

Anyways... What are you plans for the future if you're not first in line for the throne?

LOKI

I'm... not sure, to be honest. My parents thought I could gain some title of power by marrying me off to some other royal family, but I... don't think that's going to happen.

DOREEN

I guess it's too bad things didn't work out with that Vanaheim prince, then.

LOKI

Well, actually, I'm... rather glad they didn't now.

DOREEN

Why?

(Beat)

LOKI

Because now I've met you.

Doreen freezes and glances at him in surprise. He gives her a gentle smile in return. For a moment, she looks inexplicably happy, but once her senses return to her, her face falls and she backs away from him. Loki frowns.

LOKI

Is... something wrong?

DOREEN

I... I have to go...

LOKI

If... If I've said something wrong, I-

DOREEN

N-no! No, it's not... I... I'm sorry...

Before he can say another word, she runs away.

EXT. ASGARDIAN FOUNTAIN - MOMENTS LATER

Doreen splashes her face with water from a fountain on the other side of the courtyard, trying to pull herself together. Suddenly, Tippy-Toe runs up to her and squeaks at her.

DOREEN

Right... Parts...

INT. ODIN'S TREASURE ROOM - MOMENTS LATER

Sneaking around corridors, Doreen finally finds the entrance to Odin's treasure room, which is protected by two guards.

DOREEN

(Whispering)

Okay, Tippy, you distract them while I sneak up on them from behind.

Tippy-Toe salutes, runs up to the guards, and starts playing with their armor while squeaking at them.

GUARD #1

What the-?! What is that?!

GUARD #2

It appears to be some type of squirrel...

Guard #1 tries flicking Tippy-Toe off his armor.

GUARD #1

Shoo! Begone, creature!

(He turns to the other guard.)

Do you think it's Ratatoskr?

GUARD #2

No, you fool! Ratatoskr has a horn!

Before they can say another word, Doreen strikes them both from behind. They try to attack her, but she expertly knocks them both out in one punch.

DOREEN

(to Tippy-Toe)

Let's go.

She and Tippy-Toe enter the treasure room, scanning the area for the parts. Doreen frowns in confusion when she sees Odin's fake infinity gauntlet, but is quickly distracted by the golden parts in a chest in the far end of the room.

DOREEN

Got it!

She tries picking up the parts, but as soon as she does, a shield of magic blocks the exit.

DOREEN

Oh, that's not good...

She hears footsteps and guards' voices rushing towards the treasure room. Moving quickly, she jumps up to the ceiling and kicks down the mechanism creating the shield.

DOREEN

Tippy, we gotta run!

Hiding in corridors, they slip past the guards and escape to the outside of the palace. Doreen grabs her tem-pad and opens a portal. Before she returns to the TVA, she catches a glimpse of Loki's silhouette in the distance walking around. For a moment, he seems to be looking for something, but he soon sits down on a bench, defeated, and looks at the other party guests in the distance. Squeezing her eyes shut, Doreen turns away and places a reset charge on the ground. As she and Tippy go through the portal, the reset charge disintegrates the area.

INT. TVA - DAY

Doreen and Tippy-Toe rush through the portal, causing Doreen to nearly run into Mobius, who raises an eyebrow.

DOREEN

I got the parts.

MOBIUS

I... can see that. Are you okay? What's with the getup?

DOREEN

I'm fine - There was a ball going on, so I just had to change to blend in...

(Beat)

I should... get started on fixing the locket.

Before Mobius can stop her, she rushes to another room.

INT. TVA OFFICE - DAY

Still in her ballgown, Doreen is busying inserting the parts into the locket. Mobius enters.

MOBIUS

I, uh... saw the footage of Asgard...

Doreen grits her teeth and says nothing.

MOBIUS

So... you... like Loki, huh? Gotta say, I wasn't expecting that...

DOREEN

I really don't want to talk about this.

MOBIUS

Does he know?

DOREEN

Uh, no, he doesn't, and I'd like to keep it that way.

MOBIUS

Well, I mean... I'd be lying if I said I thought you weren't an odd pair, but I guess I can see it...

Doreen clenches her jaw and ignores him.

MOBIUS

I just don't see why you're all upset over it...

Doreen slams the locket down.

DOREEN

Because! I'm gonna live, what? 80, 90 years max? Maybe a hundred if I'm lucky? That's a fraction of Loki's life! Why would he ever pay any attention to me?! If that Loki from the past knew I was just a human, he wouldn't have taken a second glance at me!

Realizing she is losing her composure, she tries to focus back on fixing the locket.

After a moment, Mobius sits down next to her.

MOBIUS

You know, I've studied Loki's entire life. I thought I understood everything there was to know about him. But you... you stumped me. If Loki knew he was going to die at the hands of Thanos, why did he trust you to be the one to bring him back to life? And then, it hit me... It's because he knows you're different. He knows that you know what it's like to be an outcast. He could sense it, just from meeting you, that you would be the first stranger he ever met that wouldn't see him as an enemy.

After a pause, Doreen shakes her head.

DOREEN

Even if I could believe that... it wouldn't matter. I'm never going to live long enough to be a part of his life.

(Beat)

MOBIUS

You know, when you've worked at the TVA for as long as I have, you tend to get a bit of a perspective on these types of things. Doreen... It's not about how much time we have... It's what we do with our time while we have it that matters. And you may not believe me, but I know you've made a difference in his life. You never doubted him, even when you had every right to. And that's always going to stick with him, even long after you're gone.

Doreen looks down and says nothing. After a moment, Mobius stands up.

MOBIUS

Well... make of it what you will. I'm gonna go ask the other agents if they've found any leads-

Suddenly, the locket clicks open.

DOREEN

It's fixed!

(She hands it to Mobius.)

Here, let that charge at a good power source for a little bit. Once it's at 100%, you should be able to see where Loki is.

MOBIUS

Okay, great. We'll get a task force ready to go get him.

DOREEN

Can I come?

MOBIUS

Ravonna would rather you stay here. She doesn't want a non-variant being put at an unnecessary risk.

Doreen's face falls, but she nods. Mobius exits. Doreen sits back at a computer and starts to look through files. She comes across a tab that reads "AGENT PROFILES", but when she tries to access it, she gets a message that reads "ERROR: RESTRICTED". Glancing over her shoulder, she checks to make sure no one else is in the room and begins typing.

INT. RAVONNA'S OFFICE - DAY

As Ravonna sits at her desk, she receives a holographic message that reads "WARNING: DATA BREACH DETECTED". She clenches her jaw.

INT. TVA OFFICE - MOMENTS LATER

Doreen is reading files on her computer. As she continues to read, her eyes widen, with her expression growing more and more horrified. Suddenly, she turns back to the door.

DOREEN

Mobius?!

When there is no response, she tries to exit the room and follow after Mobius, but a gate of lasers suddenly blocks her path. As she glances at it, confused, Ravonna opens a portal into the room and strikes her from behind, knocking her out.

SYLVIE SMIRKS ‘CAUSE SHE KNOWS HE LYIN

So yeah, I took a lot of inspiration for the ballroom scene from the Laendler scene from The Sound of Music. I imagined Loki and Doreen’s relationship being a lot like The Captain and Maria, ‘cause I’m a huge sucker for the hardened grouch going soft for the innocent, lighthearted dreamer trope lol :P

I also listened to the song “When the Night is Over” by Lord Huron a lot when writing that scene. It’s very sad and haunting if you think of it as Loki’s POV after Doreen runs away.

Finally, I am officially dubbing the Doreen x Loki pairing “Dorki”, and I shall henceforth be tagging these posts as such!

@drawntothedarkside

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greenninjagal-blog · 4 years ago

Text

Deja Vecu

Hello, its been a while!! Please accept this release of the unpublished scene from Chapter Two of Deja Vu. Its basically 4k of Remus being gay for a stranger he keeps seeing die, and ain’t that a mood? :)

Summary: The Missing Scene in chapter 2 of Deja Vu, in which Remus agrees to help a stranger rob a casino.

Words: 4397

Read on Ao3 || Hero Worship Series || My General Writing Masterlist

At twenty-one years old, Remus finds out that robbing a casino is a lot less fun than Ocean’s Eleven led him to believe. It’s almost ridiculous the amount of security that went into protecting the chips and the cash on hand: following the path of the cash box from earlier, there’s two hired security guards framing the employee’s entrance, neither of whom like being touched nor can be persuaded to leave their posts together. There’s a card reader locking the door which despite looking like walnut wood, is actually steel with a clever paint job. And that’s just the first level.

“Predictable,” Dee says from where he had made himself comfortable on Remus’s bed with the complimentary note pad the hotel had supplied him. He had left his suit jacket on the desk to avoid the wrinkles but lounged on the foot of the bed without taking off his shoes. Remus had tossed himself down next to him, stretching out to gather all the pillows and built a throne for himself like he was eight instead of twenty-one.

Dee had watched him, back to wearing the face of the man who had approached him in the casino. Remus thinks he looks nice like that: hansom enough to please anyone who looked his way and charming enough to disarm anyone who might have seen him as out of place and forgettable enough that Remus couldn’t remember if they had gambled together previously.

“You don’t have to do that, you know,” Remus had pointed out. “I know what the real you looks like.”

Dee’s pen digs into the paper a little harder than necessary and Remus pretends he hadn’t noticed. The smile he receives is light and joking but it doesn’t meet his eyes at all. “I happened to like this appearance.”

Remus hums, “Lame. The scales are cool.” But he had let it drop in favor of twisting the purple casino chip between his fingers.

Dee taps his pen on the comforter in thought, his borrowed blue eyes distant as he mulled over Remus’s reports from futures that won’t happen. “What else did you notice?”

“Tessa isn’t your wife anymore, Danny.”

Dee snorts, which, by all means, should not be as graceful and elegant as he makes it seem. There’s a fluidity to the way he dips his head and scribbled on the pad of paper that makes him looks dignified. Or maybe that’s just the angle that Remus is looking at him with. A lock of his dark hair slips into his eyes and he brushes it back with two gloved fingers.

Remus falls back against the stack of pillows he had built around himself, breathing deeply and settling himself. The air smells like the lemon cleaner that the hotel staff had used to clean his room earlier when Remus had been out and about, but there’s hints of something else—something sweet and spicy with an undertone of wood.

--Dee blinks at the question, shifting so that he’s lying on his stomach, his head resting on his palm. “I wonder,” He says, with eyes so bright and blue and innocent that Remus feels like he’s stuck in them, “if you mean the Cardamom scent from my aftershave.” And Remus’s heart beats just a little faster, a little harder, a little more.—

“When I ask what else you notice,” Dee says, drawing Remus back to the present, “I meant your other senses. You’ve told me about what you’ve seen. What about sounds? The smells? You said you experience this as a first-person thing, correct?”

Remus waves a hand. “Its both. I’m there in person but I’m also having an out of body experience, too.”

Dee squints. “Doesn’t that…get confusing? How can you interpret all the stimuli at once?”

“Stimuli! What, are you a scientist in your free time?” Remus mocks, but Dee’s shoulders tense at the insinuation.

“You don’t have to tell me.” He says, “I was just curious.” He’s not, though. Remus isn’t quite sure how he knows, but Dee’s curiosity is more than just a simple question. It feels like it’s more, like he’s gathering information and sorting it away for later, like he’s making decisions based on Remus’s answers that have nothing to do with the how they are going to get into a Vault protected by a six digit code that only three people have and then get back out with more money than they can physically carry.

“Shame,” Remus says, feeling the shift in the bed as Dee’s shoulders unwind. “If you were a scientist you could dissect me for all the goodies inside! Of course, you can do that without being a scientist, too, but it’s not as fun.”

“Are you speaking from personal experience?”

Remus flips the coin in the air and catches it with the same hand. It comes up heads. “Why, does that scare you?”

Dee watches him, the pen absently twirling in the air between them. Remus can feel the weight of his gaze like a physical thing, pressing on his chest and making him self conscious of exactly how many breathes he’s been taking. The cotton comforter has a square pattern on it that he hadn’t noticed before, but he can count only three squares between the two of them. For some reason that information feels important.

“No,” Dee says after another moment passes and the air simmers. “I supposed it concerns me.”

Remus swallows the urge to laugh at his face.

“You just seem to be a useful person,” Dee continues, defensively. “I would hate to see that usefulness be squandered.”

This time Remus does laugh and it’s a bumbling bubbling burst of noise in their quiet world. His lungs shake and his heart hurts, but he laughs and something about it makes Dee’s smile softly too. The air is light, but there’s an underlying tension there, lurking in the shadows and reminding Remus that for all the dashing good looks and the semi honest expressions, the man before him is a stranger wearing a borrowed face and absolutely no one would miss him if he disappeared.

He flips the coin again, watching it roll over itself too many times to count, bounce off his hand and then flop to a stop direction between the two of them. Dee pokes it with the butt of his pen, like he was expecting it to get up and walk away.

“To answer your question,” Remus says, breathing in deeply enough to smell his cardamom aftershave and wondering why no one else in his twenty-one years of living had thought to ask him. “Seeing the future does get confusing. But it’s whatever. It never causes anything worse than a nosebleed.”

Dee hums and scribbles something down on his notepad. If Remus sat up just slightly, he would be able to see it, but he finds he likes the mystery more. Was it notes to use against him? Or was it things to think about in the future? Or was it still the colossal list of numbers they weren’t even a fraction of the way through?

--They manage to draw the guard’s attention away with a faked emergency: Remus never put stock in his own acting skills so he stumbles and falls on another patron and lets his head crack against the corner of the a craps table just far enough away that the guards are drawn the few steps over to check on both of them. Remus doesn’t bother responding to any of their prompts until Dee with the face of Tim the dealer swipes his borrowed card and lets the door behind him close. They had radios from the same place where Dee had procured the keycard from, and Remus thinks he could fall asleep listening to Dee’s breaths.

“Left, right, or center?” Dee asks.

“Left,” Remus hums, watching the casino patrons around him. A woman in her thirties just won at a baccarat table and tried to kiss the dealer. “There’s a camera at around the corner, but it roves. Your future self said to wait five seconds then go.”

Remus waves down a waitress and orders a mojito while he waits. Dee gives soft laugh at the concept and Remus tries to calm his nerves.

“You’re so uptight,” He says softly, almost to the point where Remus can’t hear him over the chattering of other people. “Relax a little, Remus. It’s just my life.”

“The Elevator code is 7-1-3-2,” Remus tells him. “And you’re going to want change your pretty little face to someone of a higher ranking on the casino hierarchy unless you want Terry Benedict to know what we’re up to.”

Remus holds his breath as the elevator dings, and then as Dee repeats the code as he types it in, and then as the doors rumble closed. He twists the glass of his drink when it comes as he listens for the subtle clues on how far Dee is inside the belly of the beast. It takes him a moment to realize that Dee is humming softly, and his lips twist into a smile without his permission.

There’s some garbled conversation on Dee’s end, pleasantries and greetings and nice things that Remus never bothered to memorize. Dee glides through the conversations with ease, deceiving and grifting like he had been born to do it. And who knows? Maybe he had been. Polite conversation gets them through another three doors, including a hall wracked the cameras and the final elevator that can only be opened with two keys and a pin code graciously provided by an aware high-level friend that followed them in and was still chatting about their Perfect Child’s first steps.

Remus sips his mojito and watches the girl at the nearest roulette table eye the betting board. She’s still going to lose so Remus finds himself more entertained by trying to extract the lime from his drink than from watching her pout yet again when the ball lands on the red 36.

“Ah yes, the vault code,” Dee’s voice says, dragging Remus back to the mission at hand. He’s casual, loose, and ready, and Remus doesn’t understand how he does it. He glances down at the piece of paper in his hand and reads off the six-digit combination that was next on their list.

“5-1-3-2-7-6,” Remus presses a hand to his earpiece, listening as closely as he can. His breath shortens with each second, crafting infinities out of each passing tick. He can hear Dee’s laugh and his he listens closer he can make out the guard that’s next to him still chattering away. Each button bings when Dee presses it in, soft and charming and not at all like a guillotine that’s cut their mission off a hundred-some times before.

“Hey man you, okay?” The person with Dee asks, less out of curiosity and more out of suspicion.

“Yes sorry my finger slipped,” Dee says quickly and punches in the next number in ascending order out of blind hope that it might be the correct one but it isn’t and Remus knows it because that’s when the person next to Dee asks him to back away and demands to know who he is and Dee’s placating answers are never enough so he tries to shift but bullets are faster than he is and Remus rips out his ear piece right before the gun goes—

“Another bust,” Dee sighs, drawing a snake on the corner of his paper. “Somehow I feel like we could win more playing on the casino floor than doing this….” He trails, off eyes distant again, thinking more about money than about the number of deaths Remus has witnessed.

It seems strange, that Remus would care so much more about that then he does, but in a way that doesn’t surprise him. Its Death with a capital ‘D’ and in Remus’s twenty-one years of experience, the only people who feared death were those who were aware of how close it was. Remus was practically best friends with Death, with the taste of the asphalt on the highway, with the feeling of a free fall, with the awkward fit of a hotel bathtub. He’s familiar with the cold silver of fear, but it doesn’t make him any less afraid.

Dee knows he keeps dying, though. Dying alone, deep inside a labyrinth of a building and Remus wonders if he should stop this while he’s ahead. He knows once that half hour mark hits in the future there’s no more Dee to be waiting for, no pay out. Just the pain of seeing a swarm of S.W.A.T. officers covertly weave between the patrons and leave with a human sized black bag. But Remus still waits and watches, holding dutiful vigil over a fruitless endeavor and letting hope build just for it to shatter with reality.

“Why does this mean so much to you?” Remus asks, somewhere between the fifteenth and the hundred fiftieth casino themed wake procession. His eyes burn a little, and he tries to tell himself it’s just the brightness of lights.

“Money is everything,” Dee marks the next two number off his list on his notebook and talks without listening to his own words. Its not fair that he sounds so convinced it’s true, when his mouth moves like he’s practiced this in the mirror. “What about you? Why do you continue to watch?”

Remus sinks back on his pillows, holding on to that faint scent of wood and spice and the feeling in his gut that comes from every time Dee listens to his advice from the future, from every time Dee listens and adheres, from every times Dee just believes.

Remus wonders how so much trust could be from this stranger who’s known him for an hour or two, and yet Roman had never been able to just accept what he said without an argument. He sounds crazy when he talks about what will happen, but Dee just nods and lets his lips twitch into a smile when handing him a roll of toilet paper.

Remus rips off another length the cheap paper and folds its in half before shoving it on his face. There’s blood in his mustache, which is frustrating and tastes just as gross as all the other times he’s had blood dripping down his chin.

“Remus,” Dee says, without looking up from his notepad.

“Yes, dearest stranger taking up half my bed?” He inhales hard.

“This is a fourth, at most.”

“Tomayto-tomahto.”

Dee shoots him a look that he can just barely make out around the clomps of flimsy paper he’s holding to his face. He looks like he’s trying not to be amused. Which is funny! Because, well, Remus can’t remember the last time someone who wasn’t related to him was in his company long enough to find him amusing.

“Why are you doing this?” Dee asks. “Other than the money, which we agreed would be a fifty-fifty split, regardless of how much we manage to walk out of here with….but somehow I don’t see money being enough for you to watch me die over and over again. Otherwise you wouldn’t have stopped me from lunging for that cash box.”

Remus is twenty-one when he shrugs and says, “It’s something to do.”

Dee huffs another dazzling laugh and for a moment Remus thinks he can see a flash of sharpened teeth in that smile, fangs like a vampire come to life, but it’s too fast for him to be sure. “Ah, I see we’re both liars tonight. Ready for the next attempt?”

Remus wonders if it’s still lying when its technically the truth. He’s doing this because its time spent with this shapeshifting sham, this enlightening enigma, this confusing con artist who lies as easily as breathing. Remus has a hard time believing anything personal he says is true, and yet he finds himself eyeing the three squared spaces on the comforter again wondering if it would be too much to make it two, one, none.

For someone who trusts Remus to see the future seven billions times as they try to figure out the vault code, who follows every direction Remus gives without hesitation, who continues to act as if Death is not something that can happen to him, he is extraordinarily hard to trust in return. Words are meaningless because he flaunts them, and Remus grew up watching Roman practice lines enough to know when someone was acting. Dee probably isn’t even his real name.

But Remus…Remus hasn’t been seen the way that Dee sees him before. Isn’t that enough for him to want to spend as long as he can with this stranger? Regardless of the danger Dee is running straight into? Regardless of the slight thrill that he gets from the prospect that they might get away with this?

-- There’s some garbled conversation on Dee’s end, pleasantries and greetings and nice things that Remus never bothered to memorize. Dee glides through the conversations with ease, deceiving and grifting like he had been born to do it. And who knows? Maybe he had been. Polite conversation gets them through another three doors, including a hall wracked the cameras and the final elevator that can only be opened with two keys and a pin code graciously provided by an aware high-level friend that followed them in and was still chatting about their Perfect Child’s first steps.

Remus sips his chocolate martini and watches the girl at the nearest roulette table eye the betting board. He knows from all the other times he’s watched that she loses, although as he peaks over at the numbers she’s never far off. It must be that excitement of the near win that keeps her there.

“Ah yes, the vault code,” Dee’s voice says, dragging Remus back to the mission at hand. He’s casual, loose, and ready, and Remus doesn’t still understand how he does it.

“5-1-3-3-4-1.”

He can hear Dee’s laugh and his he listens closer he can make out the guard that’s next to him still chattering away. Each button bings when Dee presses it in, soft and charming and not at all like the bells of victory when the code is right, holy shit. The Code was right. Dee’s breath catches in his throat, and Remus nearly drops his martini on the floor. His heart races in his chest with an emotion that he can’t quiet put a name too.

They did it.

They…won. Remus makes his way towards the doors where they were set to meet back up, and Dee continues a casual conversation with the armed guard about children as he fills both his briefcases with as much money as he can fit. By the breathless excitement in his voice, Remus can guess there’s more money in front of him than he expected to be able to get. He invites the guard over for family dinner next night because he’s an asshole and Remus finds that quality admirable.

He waves down a waitress to get a second drink, Dee’s celebratory drink, because as soon as he got past the doors they were home free-

“Hey! Hey! Stop him!” A voice yells in Dee’s ear and the shapeshifter curses.

“Remus!” He yells, “The executive is in the halls! He-!”

There’s a gunshot and a thud and Remus rips out his earpiece and screams loud enough to make all the nearest games freeze in their tracks—

“Let me guess,” Dee says, rolling over, “Another bust? The next numbers ar—”

“No,” Remus throws himself into a sitting position, and blindly grabbing for more toilet paper. The back of his throat is slick with a metallic taste and his head spins a bit when he tries to stand up. “No, Dee!”

“No?”

“Dee, we did it! That’s the code,” Remus says, pretending like his knees don’t buckle when the floor rolls under his feet. Dee is there in a moment, hands under his arms and holding him up completely. Its almost like a hug, Remus thinks distantly. He’s twenty-one and he can’t remember the last time someone hugged him even as a joke. His skin itches at the contact, blistering and burning at the warmth of someone else being so close to him. The cardamom scent is so strong, but Remus thinks he might be okay if that was the only thing he smelled for the rest of his life.

“Are you…okay?” Dee asks. “Why are you…?”

Remus uses the back of his hand to wipe away the stream of blood from his nose and inhales hard. “You died again. The executive you choose to impersonate is in the building and you run into him right before getting out with the cash.”

“Who was it? I can change into someone else.”

Remus shakes his head. “Oh no. I’ve got no clue, but if there’s one thing I know how to do, it’s get someone’s attention.”

Dee grins, “You certainly got mine. What are you going to do?”

Remus slides his weight back and manages to stand on his own legs. Remus’s heart does a dance routine in his chest, moving like if it slows for even a second Dee will lunge forward and rip it from his body.

Remus tells him, “I’m going to go make a girl win at roulette so much they think she’s cheating. With a hundred thousand dollars on the line that should have their attentions, right?”

It’s not really a question. Remus knows from experience that the more games in a row that you win during a game involving so much luck, the more interest people start to take in it and you. He just needs to convince the girl to bet only where he tells her to, and then bet as much as she can.

He knows how to do it, too: simply walk up to her and offer her a free Barney if she bets on the square he tells her too. Once she wins, he tells her the next one, and maybe she puts a nickel down, or a quarter, just in case he’s wrong. When she wins again, he’ll tell her the next number, and she’ll put more on it. Then more. Then more. She doesn’t even need to believe that he can see the future. She just has to reap the rewards.

“Oh,” Dee says staring at him. “Oh.”

Remus isn’t sure what he’s looking at. He just knows that Dee’s eyes are as blue as the ocean and deeper than anything he’s ever drowned in. He’s looking at Remus again, like this is the first time he’s seeing him in this lighting, and when he smiles, his teeth are definitely sharper than before.

“I do believe,” Dee says, “we could make the best team of thieves there is out here.”

“You’re just now figuring that out?” Remus asks. “Come on. I didn’t listen to you die nine hundred times just for you to chicken out now.”

He grabs his jacket, and buttons it. With a swipe of his hands he’s hair sets back in the position before, like some type of magic act. If Dee’s the magician, Remus thinks he would be honored to be in the front row every time he performs.

“So, you’d be up to doing this again, correct?” Dee asks, with his hand on the doorknob.

“They won’t fall for the same trick twice,” Remus says, “And what makes you think that this is something I enjoy?”

“I didn’t ask if you enjoyed it. I asked if you’d do this again. Not here, but somewhere else.” Dee glances at him, side eyeing him in a way that makes the hair on the back of Remus’s neck stand on end. “You still owe me.”

“What?” Remus turns to face him, and if there’s a spark in his chest, a nudge of excitement, well who can blame him? People don’t usually want him to stay around.

Another step in the hall. “We made a deal, unless you’ve forgotten. You said that if I could figure out how you were cheating, you’d do one thing that I want you to do.”

Remus snorted and motioned between them, “What do you call this? What we’ve been doing for the past hour?”

“This?” The man gives him a shark-like smile, “You did this of your own volition!”

“I seem to recall you asking,” Remus challenges.

Dee shakes his head too innocently. “Not in this timeline.” He pulls out his pale-yellow handkerchief and offers it to him, “You still have blood on your face by the way.”

There’s something nice about the way that this man is looking at him, the way he’s still looking at him, like Remus is something more than a nuisance, more than a distraction, more than an unwanted, frustrating intrusion. It makes his knees weak and the back of his throat taste like blood again and he so desperately wants to look to the future but won’t let himself do it.

“What do you want?” Remus says, because the uncharacteristic fear in his chest is slowly turning all his organs to butterflies and he never goes back on a promise.

“Well, you did say anything I wanted right? Anything at all?”

Remus nods, rolling his finger over the snake design on the stolen poker chip. Suddenly there doesn’t seem to be enough air in the world, and he’s afraid if he inhales too deeply trying to get more, the whole reality will shatter.

Dee’s form shimmers, shivers, and dissolves into Tim the dealer as they wait for the elevator to take them back to the casino floor. It’s an entirely different person but when he looks at Remus all he can see is Dee’s expression.

“Well, Remus,” He says, “After we finish up here, I want you to come with me. Work with me a bit. Let me help you amass a bit of a fortune. Strictly professional, of course. I won’t ask about your past and you don’t ask about mine. We don’t even need to be friends! Just…”

Dee offers out a gloved hand to him. “Business partners?”

Remus is twenty-one and he thinks there might be a timeline out there where he says no, but he doesn’t even entertain that thought.

“Business Partners,” He says and shakes on it.

#Demus #sanders sides #janus sanders #remus sanders #deja vu au #robbing a casino for your mental health #Oceans eleven references because I love that movie #superpowers #Remus from before things get bad #tw: temporary death #Remus can see the future #Janus can shapeshift #Everything is GREAT :)

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chaseatinydream · 4 years ago

Text

pirate king (60) || atz

“You shouldn’t have done that, Wooyoung-ah.”

At the sound of your voice, the head gunner turns away, completely silent, dark anger boiling beneath his skin. He’s clearly not in the mood to have a talking to now. But you have no fear, not anymore, anyway, and seat yourself next to him on the bed. Your bed, you realise.

Wooyoung’s mouth is pressed in a tight line, edges of his lips curling white in something crossed between a frown and a sneer. There’s a big bruise on his cheek, presumably put there by Jongho again, and he’s looking away very determinedly, set on not meeting your eye.

Unfortunately for him, your stubbornness more than rivals his own, and you’re not about to let him off the hook so easily. He punched his captain, for god’s sake. That’s not typical Wooyoung behavior. “We can sit here all day, you know? I have all the time in the world.”

You really don’t (haha brain, very funny joke), but fingers scratch irritably over the cover of your pillow, Wooyoung chancing a quick glance at you before his eyes have flitted elsewhere. The tension is so thick it’s practically suffocating the two of you alive, but you’re not about to give in anytime soon.

You wait.

Waiting doesn’t take long. Wooyoung’s personality loves comfortable silences or noise. Awkward silence? Not so much. He opens his mouth once, hesitates, closes it, and opens it again with a swallow.

“How... how’s your hand?” He’s still not looking at you.

“This?” You raise the empty stump, the phantom itch still throbs strangely. You’re strangely calm for someone who’s just lost their hand, but knowing death is right on its tail really puts things into perspective. “I’m fine. I was injured by Gunho during the battle and, well, you know the rest.” you shrug, turn away yourself. He really doesn’t, but it’s easier not to go into the specifics.

Wooyoung flinches a little, but you see it. Then an angry growl leaves his chest, fingers digging so hard into your pillow they turn white. “I should have killed that bastard when I had the chance.”

“You couldn’t have known what he was going to do.” You tell him gently, glance out of the porthole and watch the sky outside slowly turn from inky black to midnight blue. Silence lingers between the two of you for a moment before Wooyoung finally puffs out a breath, licks his dry lips.

“How’s Captain?”

Your captain snorts a little as you dab water at his nose. “If Wooyoung had been serious about beating me up, I’d have a lot more than a broken nose.”

“Well,” you shrug, bringing your knees up to your chest, “you nearly broke his nose, gave him five different bruises, very big ones, I may add, and almost gave Master a heart attack.” Wooyoung makes a satisfied noise, patting his raw knuckles fondly.

“He deserved that much, at the very least.” He mumbles, drags a hand across his face, but he looks relieved. “Five bruises was letting him off too easy.” You glance at him for a second, turn back to the world outside, the sky and sea separating as the first hints of day draw a line of light across the horizon. Beyond the heavy wooden door of the sickbay, orders are called, the thud of boots resounding across the deck as the crew rush to carry out said orders.

“I’ll be fine, really.” You find yourself saying, though he hasn’t asked. His eyes find yours and more words start to spill out of your mouth unchecked. “I might have lost a hand, but at least I’m not dead, am I?”

The second you say that, you feel like you’ve somehow slapped both Wooyoung and yourself in the face, metaphorically, of course. At least I’m not dead, your heart gives a little self deprecating chuckle, and you resist the urge to cut off that loose tongue of yours for its stupidity.

Great job, you.

“Get ready to storm the island! I want every one of us to find that Captain Kang and drag him to the Treasure by the knees! Do you understand me?” You hear Mingi shout from behind the door of the sickbay and you make to rise to your feet, “we should go check out what they’re up to-”

But you’re stopped by a familiar hand. “Wait.”

Frowning, you turn back, arch an eyebrow. “Why?” You ask, a little confused. Wooyoung glances up at you with deep green eyes, soft and serious with emotion, and one by one, his fingers lace around yours, squeezing gently. Your heart skips, tumbles a beat, but you keep your eyes on his face. “Wooyoung?”

“Just listen to me for a moment.” He says, voice pleading and for some reason, it makes you nervous, like you’re not ready for whatever emotionally weighted words he’s about to unload on you. “I just need to say something.”

The two of you probably really should get going, but something about the way he’s talking makes you pause, nod for him to go on. “When I was on that island... and we realised that it was a trap for the Treasure...” a shudder runs down his spine, the pad of his thumbs tracing small circles on the inside of your wrist, “I can’t begin to say just how damn terrified I was. And while I was running back to the ship, all I could think about was just how stupid I realised I had been.”

“You couldn’t have known it was going to be a trap, Wooyoung.” You remind him firmly, intent on stopping him from blaming himself just like his captain did, gods were all of them going to be like this? “No one knew, not even Captain, and we all came out fine, so there’s no harm done-”

“That’s not what I meant.” Wooyoung interrupts. The chains rattle as his hand falls to his side, as heavy as his words. “What I meant was... pushing you away, thinking that by distancing myself, I was keeping you safe, but in reality I was just a coward who didn’t have the balls to face my feelings.”

What?

“When I was running back to the Treasure, one thought kept replaying in my mind.” He bites on his lower lip, an agonized look crossing his eyes as he stares at you so longingly, so painfully. “What if the last thing you remembered of me was leaving you alone on that mast and removing myself from your life without knowing how I really felt? What if...” he chokes, head bowed, “what if the last thing you had thought of me was that I hated you, and you died without knowing just how untrue that was?”

You don’t even know what you’re hearing right now. The words, you hear them, but you don’t really hear them. Wooyoung doesn’t hate you, that... that’s amazing to know, but why do you feel like that isn’t the end of it quite yet?

“Chin Hae.” He looks into your eyes, so piercingly you couldn’t look away even if you tried. “I’m scared of women. I’m terrified of them. I have scars all over my body, and I can’t forget the way they touched me, how I was forced to serve them until Captain rescued me. After I left that life behind, I played women like toys because I wanted to convince myself that I was no longer the victim, no longer the powerless.” He takes a deep breath, searches you with a defeated smile. “But it seems like I was wrong, and I find myself powerless in front of a woman once again.”

Your thoughts swirl like the raging waves, a jumble of noises and words and so much emotions. “Wooyoung, what-”

“I love you, Chin Hae.”

“Wait, give me a moment-” You try to collect yourself, but Wooyoung smiles gently, squeezing your hand lightly again and that affectionate, familiar gesture grounds you like a lifeboat in the middle of a storm.

Gentle eyes meet yours.

“You don’t need to love me back.” He tells you, smiling a little wistfully. There’s peace in that lopsided grin, as if a massive weight has finally been lifted off his shoulders, as if he hasn’t just dropped the emotional equivalent of his 42 pound cannon right into your arms. “I just wanted you to know. You... you’re really precious to me, Chin Hae.”

You try to find words, and only one comes to mind. “Buh...” You’re immediately disgusted by your own apparent inability to form complete sentences. What is your brain made of, clay?

...probably.

At your flustered state, Wooyoung breaks into peals of laughter that resemble an entire pod of happy dolphins, slapping his thigh in amusement. Fumbling about, you throw your headrest at him, only making him laugh harder when it bounces off the wall next to head. “Wooyoung!”

“I’m sorry!” He laughs, not sounding sorry at all. You glare at him, not amused, but squeeze his hand back, like you always have.

“I don’t know how I feel yet.” You tell him honestly, linking your fingers together. Wooyoung nods earnestly, purple hair falling into his eyes. “You... you might only be saying this because you almost lost me, so I want you to think about what you feel again, after all of this has calmed down... before you tell me this again.”

Wooyoung shrugs. “I know what I feel, but if it makes you feel more assured, alright then. I’m fine with waiting.”

A breath of relief escapes you, and you nod seriously, but before you can say anymore, there’s a knock on the door, and it swings open to reveal-

“Captain.” Wooyoung rises to greet his captain a little awkwardly, scratching his head. The corner of Hongjoong’s lips lift in a slight, weary smile at the sight of the two of you seated on the bed, pausing slightly at the door.

“Am I interrupting something?”

“Not at all.” You wave your captain over and Hongjoong takes a step, but his toe dances lightly at the door right before it crosses into the room, and stops to squint a little at his head gunner.

“You’re not going to throw another punch at me the second I step into this room, right?”

Wooyoung lets out a humored chuckle. “God, no, even if I wanted to.” The ice broken, he bumps shoulders with his captain and Hongjoong finally cracks a smile, although it seems a little... off, somehow. “Though I still think it would have been an improvement to your looks if I’d broken a few things on your face.”

Your captain gives a good-natured snort for someone who’d just been beaten up less than half a day ago. “Well, it’s good to have you on the same side again. I was wondering if I could borrow your gun and your eye in,” he glances out of the door onto the deck with a grim smile, “maybe about a few minutes or so.”

Something about the way he says that has something sinking in your chest.

“Just my gun and eye?” Wooyoung tries to lighten the tension by joking with a raised eyebrow, similarly on edge at the tone of his captain’s voice, his fingers shifting towards the long flintlock at his hip as he gestures at himself. “You know you have to get me too, right? We’re kind of a package deal.”

“I might throw in a bonus if you come along.” Hongjoong shrugs, still gazing out of the door. The angle the two of you are at, you can’t quite see what’s happening on deck, but the shouting from outside is loud enough to reach your ears and you’re immediately tensed.

“Appreciative enough to spare me bilge bailing duty for a week for rearranging your face?”

“Maybe. If you ask nicely. Actually, no.” Hongjoong replies, turning to look at the two of you with a smile that’s a little too strained for your liking. “Well, someone has just approached the ship from the island, and-”

“Captain Kang says he wants to talk.”

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