#I may do a sequel to this but it’s like fake children’s names that the author made up for a couple to have | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

alfredolover119 · 4 years

Note

I looooove your zukka rec lists! I recently became Avatar-obsessed, never got a chance to watch it as a kid and only just got through it all! I was wondering if you'd consider doing a specifically angst rec list? I love fluffy zukka everything, but sometimes you just gotta have your heart ripped out of your chest and put back in after being thoroughly blended.

thank you! i relate heavily to “recently became Avatar-obsessed” haha. as for the angst list, i sure can try! warning: all of these have happy endings because im a crybaby who can’t read unhappy endings. also, p much all of the fics in the completed section were featured on my other lists but this is specifically the ANGSTY ones >:^)

angsty zukka wips

first, most obviously, feels like we only go backwards by @oldpotatoe

-currently at 102k with 19/27 chapters posted; rated teen

-the amnesia fic. the amnesia fic. the amnesia fic. you know. i haven’t actually read it yet because, as previously mentioned, i’m a crybaby and am waiting for it to finish up but, from my understanding, this fic will murder you in a dark alleyway with no remorse. if u like zukka angst, you’ve probably already read this, but just in case!

An injury leaves Sokka with amnesia. His last memory is of the failed invasion, of leaving his father behind in enemy territory on the Day of Black Sun. Of hopelessness. Rage. // But then he wakes up, and the war is over. Suddenly, he must come to terms with the fact that years have passed, and that he's somehow the Southern Water Tribe Ambassador to the Fire Nation. He is also supposedly friends with banished-Prince-turned-Fire-Lord Zuko, of all people. Close friends.

Yeah, nah.

and i’ll do anything you say (if you say it with your hands) by @goldrushzukka

-currently 38k with 6/8 chapters posted; rated mature

-holy shit. holy SHIT. modern au based on the “my cat likes my fuckbuddy and i am falling in love” trope(?). maybe it’s just because of how the last chapter ended, but oh my god. this one made me cry. made me want to commit violence. when it’s not angsty as hell, it’s pretty funny, but holy shit. ao3 user nebulastucky please.

It’s supposed to be a one night stand. Pick up some guy at a bar, barely remember his name and never learn anything real about him, send him packing in the morning with a thanks for the ride and a cup of coffee to-go. That’s how it’s supposed to go. // But then it’s the best sex Sokka has ever had, and he thinks he’ll hate himself if he never gets to have it again.

Violet Blossoms and Celestial Objects by @hollypunkers

-currently 15k with 2/? posted. rated teen.

-this is the sequel to blue (an angsty, zukka rewrite of book 2-- go read it if u havent!)! !! this is a book 3 rewrite. only two chapters in and mrs hollypunkers is really abusing the miscommunication tag, as zukka writers seem to enjoy doing. im excited to see how the world and story develops with the changes to the story! you should be too!! its very good! obviously spoilers for blue lmao

Having sided with the Avatar in Ba Sing Se, Zuko not only must navigate his new relationship with Sokka but returning to the Fire Nation as a banished enemy. His own journey of self discovery and personal growth must now coexist alongside the personal struggles of every other member of the Gaang as together they blaze a treacherous path toward an unsure victory against Zuko's own father and nation.

breakable heaven by @fruitysokka

-currently 71k with 9/11 chapters posted. rated teen

-swt ambassador zuko! soon to be chief sokka! fake dating ur best friend to get out of an arranged marriage! what could go wrong!!! i also haven’t read this one ((see: i’m a crybaby who is being hurt by too many zukka wips already)), but it has been hanging out in my marked for later for months. from what i understand, this fic has: angst.

With his twenty-first birthday looming just around the corner, the Southern Water Tribe Elders have decided that Sokka, next in line to be Chief, needs to get married. Sokka does not want that, but he does need to get them off his back until he can figure his way out of it. What better way to do that than to pretend to date his best friend (and newly minted Ambassador to the Southern Water Tribe) Zuko? // Seriously, this is a foolproof plan. Maybe one of Sokka's best. Absolutely nothing can go wrong.

angsty zukka fics (completed!)

(i’ll put these in wc order)

lighthouse beam by @incorrectzukka

-7k, rated g

-a modern college au!! zuko’s inner-monologue is very angsty in this fic. typical zuko. also per usual, theyre both fucking dorks. they sort themselves out in the end, but not before The Angst. zuko is semi-deaf in this fic and also he has a bit of internalized homophobia.

Sokka’s breathtakingly beautiful and he’s smart and makes other people laugh. Zuko has a half-burnt face and a deaf ear. It’s not rocket science. // Or, Zuko falls in love with the boy in his Philosophy class.

This Isn’t My Idea of Fun by @khaleeseas

-9k, explicit

-moon spirit/nwt prince!sokka, no war to be found here! admittedly this isnt THAT angsty but like. the angst IS present. zuko is still the prince. a lovely childhood friends (though they hated each other for a minute haha) to lovers story.

If you asked Zuko, he and Azula saw far too much of Chief Hakoda of the Northern Water Tribe’s children growing up. It wasn’t until they were older, and Azula pointed out that - duh - their families were trying to set them all up, that he realized why. // He was told by his mother to be polite. These people were their friends and allies, and though their nations were as different as they came, harmony between nations was the most important thing. // It wasn’t his fault the Chief’s children were so annoying.

put your lips close to mine (as long as they don’t touch) by @celestialceci

-9k, teen

-modern au! zuko and sokka are college roommates. zuko goes to spend the summer with sokka. again,, not really that angsty but-- its there!! the detail and feeling of Home in this story make me happy. zuko is insecure as hell here too. if ur into that.

Zuko hates his home. He likes college alright, but he likes Sokka even better, his assigned roommate turned best friend. Spending the summer with Sokka will be fun, a welcome change of pace he desperately wants. It probably won't awaken anything in him... right?

the thing about dancing by anodymalion

-9k, teen

-yes. this one right here officer. it makes my heart ache. also trans sokka! which is cool. but the zuko angst in this one. hurts me. not so much relationship angst as it is zuko learning he deserves happiness angst. i’m sure u know The Type.

The first time a attendant spills Zuko’s tea and doesn’t immediately fall to her knees, begging the Fire Lord’s forgiveness, it is not anger but a resounding warmth that fills his chest.

i could (never) give you peace by @zukkababey

-10k, mature

-OUCH. OUCH OUCH OUCH. boys please learn to communicate im begging u. also zuko.. zuko, dude. as the tags of the fic say, hes “really going through it” in this one. YOUCH. post-canon.

Zuko almost said it. He almost said the words I think I’m in love with you, but he choked them back down at the last second. // Zuko would never be able to be what Sokka wanted. They might have needed each other during the summer, when two boys with too much weight on their shoulders found comfort in each other in the only way they knew how. // But now Zuko was Fire Lord, and Sokka was leaving.

this love burns so yellow (becoming orange and in its time, exploding) by @meliebee

-18k, teen, major character death

-i lied. THIS is the one, officer. found family.. good mai and zuko and toph friendships.. . ozai escapes prison and tries to overthrow zuko. OBVIOUSLY angst ensues. poor boy. he Does heal in this but it gets worse before it gets better. angst angst angst angst.

Ten months after Zuko is crowned at seventeen, he faces his first coup.

Anything for You by beersforqueers

-23k, explicit

-istg. this is probably one of my favorite zukka fics. its PAINFUL. modern au where theyre broken up but sokka hasnt told his family yet so zuko goes home with him for kataang wedding. a bit smutty, but the plot oh my god ohgm y fuvk. made me cry the first time i read it. (see: crybaby!me) insert that one picture of the horse with the caption PAIN.

In which Sokka and Zuko have broken up but Sokka hasn't told his family yet. So when Katara and Aang's wedding weekend rolls around and he doesn't want to break Gran-Gran's heart, he asks Zuko to pretend to be his boyfriend for one last weekend. // Things don't go as planned.

Moving Mountains by @thefangirlingdead

-64k, mature

-so. when i read this the first time it was in one sitting. soulmate au set within canon era / the comics, to an extent. soulmates can hear each others thoughts. i will happily say this is slowburn, jesus christ. champagne without the cham.

Soulmates are chosen by the spirits and can hear each other’s thoughts. Sokka thinks it’s cheesy and dumb. Zuko thinks it’s poetic justice that he doesn’t have one because he doesn’t deserve it. Cruel irony is finding out that the prince of the Fire Nation (and the person currently hunting you) is your soulmate.

In the Soft Light by @voidcenturyscholar and @romancedawning

-83k, teen, graphic depictions of violence

-moon spirit!sokka living in the northern water tribe. zuko is sent to the northern water tribe as a cultural liaison. iroh is the fire lord but while he is away taking care of lu ten after his injury ozai steps up. i cannot express how many emotions this fic made me feel. background yuetara. i would almost say found family?? but. anyway. plenty of angst to spare here with a healthy dose of enemies to friends to lovers.

As the newly appointed cultural liaison to Northern Water Tribe, Zuko is the first Fire Nation Citizen to step foot inside the city's walls in nearly a century. He's determined to prove himself—to the Fire Lord and to his father—even if the Water Tribe's spirit-touched prince seems to want nothing to do with him.

That Midnight Sky by @zukkababey

-103k, teen

-now now now. tms... modern college au where sokka agrees to tutor zuko in physics because zuko has to maintain straight a’s and physics is just not doing it for him. so. thats cool but THEN azula moves in, randomly, with zuko. to hide the fact that sokka is tutoring zuko, they fake date! what could go wrong!! the mutual pining in here combined with the angst... wonderful, tasty. everyone read it rn. also SLOWBURN

In Zuko’s strict family, needing a tutor is just about the worst thing you could do. Failing a class, however, is even worse. The only rational solution? Take up Aang on his offer to find him a physics tutor and have Sokka—beautiful, smart, handsome Sokka—tutor him in secret. // When Azula’s arrival threatens to reveal Zuko’s secret, it’s up to Sokka to convince her this definitely isn’t what it looks like. See, he’s actually… Zuko’s… boyfriend? // Hmm. There’s no way this could get complicated, right?

#zukka #zuko #sokka #angst #zukka angst #atla #avatar: the last airbender #fic recs #zukka fic recs

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justcourttee · 3 years

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hiiiii i don't know if you take prompts or requests or anything, but would you maybe consider writing a sequel to A Moment Too Late? maybe with a happy ending? i love your writing!!

I tried for what I’ll call a happy-ish ending, but I hope you still enjoy it!

*WARNING* This piece and part 1 mention attempted suicide and can be difficult for some. Please, please, please be sure you feel comfortable reading about this topic before clicking below the title.

In The Nick of Time

Damian took his first step into the city of love at 4:00 pm.

He had a general idea of where to begin, but the combination of no sleep and jet lag was taking its toll. He had tried reaching out to her several times on the flight over, but she ignored his every effort. It could have just been the fact that she was in her classes. She may have been suicidal, but maybe she still took her education seriously?

It wasn’t likely, but it helped put his mind at some ease, hoping he still had time. His first order of business was renting a car. Technically speaking, his father had a villa on the outskirts of the city with a multitude of cars to pick from, but seeing as no one knew where he was, he wasn’t eager to tip them off.

He gazed over the taxis lined up, eagerly looking to take advantage of the tourists piling out of the airport behind him. He didn’t want someone to eager, he just needed someone who looked on the brim of exhaustion. His eyes landed on a poor man propped against his car, his eyes drooping like Tim before his first cup of the day. Perfect.

“Excuse me sir, but I’d like to rent your car from you for the day.”

The man peeked one eye open as he glanced warily over Damian.

“Scram kid, it’s a package deal, me and my car. You can’t just rent one or the other-”

Damian smirked as the man snatched the bundle of money from his hand, popping off the taxi light that stood on top of his car. As Damian slipped into the driver’s seat, he motioned for the man to step back over.

“Here’s a couple of extra bills to catch yourself a taxi home.”

The man’s mouth gaped as if he was searching for air underwater. Damian didn’t even bother to see if he would step back from the curb as he pulled off. The one benefit of the agonizing six-hour flight was Tim’s laptop. Damian had managed to hack into each of the high schools around the city until he narrowed it down to three Marinette’s. After looking at approximate ages and distance, he assumed she had to be the first; one Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

Her family owned a bakery a little less than a mile from the high school and on the off chance she hadn’t stayed for any clubs or activities, she should be arriving there at any moment. Damian tapped the address into his phone ignoring the multitude of messages he had between his father and Dick.

It was a simple fifteen-minute drive from the airport.

Damian exhaled sharply as he sped down the exit. Fifteen minutes was enough time. It had to be enough time. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

“Welcome to the bakery! Is there anything I can interest you to today?”

The woman’s face wore a mixture of fake smiles and exhaustion. It might’ve been enough to fool the average customer, but to Damian, she simply looked one gust of wind from collapsing.

“Uhm, I’m looking for Marinette? Marinette Dupain-Cheng? Is she here?”

Instantly her fake smile dropped and the exhaustion settled into the creases of her face. There wasn’t even a hint of worry at the mention of her daughter’s name from a stranger’s mouth. It irritated him.

“Look, whatever she did now, we don’t have any money for a settlement. Maybe you can work out a deal with her, but we have nothing more to give.”

The woman offered him a half bow before pointing him to a small door at the back of the store. He assumed she meant for him to go through it and without another word, he stepped past her. As he made his way up the countless stairs, his irritation only grew.

He was well aware that there were parents out there indifferent to their children, but his soulmate wasn’t supposed to have one. She was always so happy and carefree when they were younger, abusing the bond whenever she could. He assumed it was because her parents had drilled into her that it was within her right too. But after that short interaction, he wasn’t so sure anymore.

Finally, a white door came into view. Hesitantly, he reached out the knob twisting without resistance. Inside was a moderate flat with what appeared to be an attic access. As first impressions went, he thought it seemed like a warm and gentle place to grow up in. Very different from the windowless stone building he began in.

He slipped out of his shoes, placing them beside a pair of light pink ballet flats before taking his first step. Someone was home and by the looks of it, it should be his soulmate. Damian contemplated on whether to call out or not. He didn’t want to frighten her, but he thought it might be worse if he just opened random doors instead. Finally, he settled on attempting their soulmate link once more.

“Marinette? Are you there?”

There was no answer, but he couldn’t be sure if that was just the continued strike from his earlier efforts. Tentatively, he took another step forward, his eyes scanning the apartment. It was pretty much an open concept, so he could see everything quite easily. The only thing that eluded him was the staircase leading above.

That had to be where she was.

“Marinette? That’s how you pronounce your name, right?” Damian sucked in a breath, resisting the urge to hit himself. No matter how he intended it, he sounded like he was some stalker here to kidnap her. “I’m not here to hurt you, I just wanted to talk.”

It didn’t sound any better. Maybe he should've stuck with a gentle introduction through their bond. Speaking out loud only reminded him how terrible he was with people. Animals were easier. Everything that needed to be said could be expressed through body language.

Biting the bullet, he decided it couldn’t get any worse than barging straight up the staircase into the attic. As he pushed open the access, the first thought that crossed his mind was-

“A mess,” clothes were strewn across the floor, remnants of paper scattered within the piles. The walls were a soft pink at one point, but it looked as if someone had taken a paint scraper to them, mere flakes hanging on by a thread. For such a well-put-together apartment, the room almost seemed abandoned.

Pulling himself into the room, Damian left his legs to dangle, his toes longing for the security of the stairs just below him. It didn't seem that she was in here either. He remembered passing another floor, perhaps that was also part of their apartment? Just as he decided to plant his feet back onto the sturdy steps, his fingers brushed over one of the scraps of paper he had seen earlier.

Instinctively, he pulled his hand away from the floor, his eyebrows furrowing. Damian was fairly certain that wasn’t how paper should feel. Reaching back out, he gathered a few nearby scraps. Turning them over one by one, a picture began to form. A group of girls, all laughing completely lost in a moment of time. His curiosity bested him as he pulled himself into the room, gathering each of the scraps he could find.

A half dozen photos was all he could form by the time he collected the larger pieces. Most were group shots, but two were of a blonde guy. Upon further analysis, he determined that he was the son of the fashion dictator Gabriel Agreste. He had seen the boy at a couple of Bruce’s international parties.

Perhaps she thought he was attractive? After all, the photos seemed to be ripped from a magazine, unlike the other four. As he glanced around the room once more, he felt like he had finally found a straw to grasp at. A reason she dropped so far, so fast.

But as much as he gathered from her room, he still had no idea as to where she might be. Her shoes were at the door, but it didn’t seem as if she was anywhere in the apartment. Standing slowly, Damian took a step back toward the access he had entered through when a breeze tickled the back of his neck.

His entire body stiffened as his hand moved slowly to where he kept his emergency kunai.

“Is that you, Marinette? If so, you’re pretty good at masking your presence. I didn’t even sense you approaching.”

There was no response, but now that he knew she was there, it was easier to pick up on her shallow breathing. In one swift movement, Damian flicked his wrist backward, ducking to avoid any retaliation.

A soft grunt earned a glance backward, his eyes widening a bit at the sight. She hadn’t even tried to dodge it. Lodged into her right shoulder was his kunai, and just below it, centimeters away from her heart, was a pocket knife. A bright pink light blinded him and instinctively his arms darted out. When he could see again, a petite figure rested against his frame.

“Marinette?” She was unresponsive, a deep ruby dripping from her wounds. “Marinette!”

What was this panic he felt rising? He’d seen comrades die on the battlefield before, wounds more deadly than this. So why couldn’t he move? Logically, he knew he had to act fast, but his body wouldn’t inch.

“You’re her soulmate, right? Do something!” Damian’s head snapped up, but he couldn’t find where the voice came from. Whoever it was, it was enough to break whatever daze he had fallen into.

“Okay Marinette, I have basic medical training and I can patch you, slow the bleeding, but I can’t remove either blade. Do you understand? I’m going to have to move you, quickly and as stable as possible.” Her breathing was shallow, but her eyelids flickered in what he hoped was a response. As gently as her could, he lifted her into his arms, attempting to avoid moving either stab wound. Her soft grunt pulled at his heart. “Hold on a little longer Marinette, please, I need to apologize.”

The stairs were one agonizing moment after another and as he laid her into the backseat of his rented car, he felt winded himself. Sliding into the driver’s seat, Damian quickly pulled out his phone, cursing as it slid through his hands.

“Dammit, where did it fall?” He frantically searched, his heart rate rising with every passing moment. Was this the world’s way of punishing him? He killed and fought and argued every passing moment of his life. He pushed her away and now that he thought he was making a change, he could just waltz back into her life as if nothing had happened? He wasn’t going to make it.

“Just drive, I’ll guide you.” Had he finally lost it? It was the same imaginary voice he had heard before. Perhaps it was his subconscious, a guardian angel? Could he really trust it? “Drive boy, take a left at the stop sign.”

He couldn’t afford to wait another moment so he did what felt most logical; he drove. The drive was killing him, each painful breath becoming slower, a dagger to his heart as they escaped from her mouth.

“Just leave the car in the front, save my friend.” The only thing keeping him going was the voice.

Damian had barely parked, his feet already slamming on the pavement before the engine had stopped. Gathering her into his arms, he burst through the sliding doors, the fear rising in his throat.

“Help! I need help!” He knew his French was rusty, but he had to try. The nurse tentatively approached him, her gasp needing no explanation. A stretcher was rushed, and as they ripped her from his arms, Damian couldn’t help the anger he felt.

“Be careful with her! She’s going to die if they shift too much!” A security guard stepped over, his hands raised as if he meant to calm Damian. He took another step forward, trying to grip Damian’s arm. “What are you doing? I need to be with her! Marinette I’m right here! Can’t you hear me? I need you Marinette! Please don’t leave me!”

Damian watched as they placed the stethoscope on her chest, grim expressions hastening their step.

“Don’t look at her like that! Help her! Please!” It felt as if his lungs were collapsing, his vision blurring. Why was he reacting like this? He barely knew her. In fact, this was his first time ever seeing her.

“Sir, please calm down. They are treating your friend right now, the best thing you can do for her is sit and wait.”

The man led him to a couch where his legs finally caved, his back sinking into the chair. Damian lifted his hands to his face, wiping the tears he hadn’t even realized he had cried, but it only left his cheeks damper than before. Slowly, he pulled back his hands, his stomach plummeting. There wasn’t an inch of skin left uncovered by the red.

“Oh, oh,” Had he really not noticed how much blood she had lost? He was so focused on getting her here that he didn’t even consider if she would make it. “I thought I could make it, I thought I still had time.”

Damian recognized this feeling rising in his chest. It was the same as when he collapsed on the roof, the same as when he heard from her after so many years of silence. Was this what his mother meant by a soulmate bond being a distraction?

He had never understood why people took the insane challenge of fighting his Grandfather for a chance to leave the league in search of their soulmate. If he was honest, he thought it was a pointless endeavor and he couldn’t begin to imagine how someone believed they could pull it off. But, as his chest tightened with the rising waves of nausea, a realization washed over him.

A soulmate bond was so powerful that even if you just met them, you felt the need to protect them, to care for them. You became vulnerable for them, scared to lose them, terrified of how the world would be without them. It was a terrible weakness and a strong ally.

“Can you walk to the bathroom?” Damian felt his head stir, but it was as if it were being pulled by strings, out of his control. “I’ll explain everything if you could just meet me there.”

How could this voice be so all-knowing? Hadn’t it just surfaced from his subconscious as a way to kickstart his movement again? Yet, if that were the case, why did he find himself rising, stumbling toward the bathroom in a daze?

He slipped into the closest stall, collapsing against the door, the minute it locked. Why did he feel so drained? It was less than 500 feet.

“Do you need to sit down? I know that this must be hard on you.”

Damian’s eyes scanned the stall in search of a source for the voice, but alas, he came up with nothing. Sliding to the ground, he chuckled to himself, his hand clutching his shirt.

“I’ve finally lost it. Todd told me this day would come, but how could a dumbass like him even know?”

“You haven’t lost anything, I’m right in front of you, you just have to push through the veil.”

Damian perked up, squinting his eyes at the space directly in front of him. Slowly, but surely, his eyes focused on a red blur until the floating object came into full view.

“Holy shi-” Two paw-like things pressed his lips together, a disapproving look monopolizing its small face.

“Can you keep it down? And what’s with all this foul language? I can’t say I approve of you being my Chosen’s soulmate with a mouth like that.”

It floated a few inches away, crossing its arms as if trying to push the point across. Damian tried to swallow, but his mouth was dry. He was positive that he hadn’t had anything. Perhaps this was one of those sleepless hallucinations that Drake constantly rambled on about?

“I know that look, I’m not a hallucination, I’m a kwamii! My name is Tikki and I am Marinette’s partner. Together, we merge to become the superheroine of Paris, Ladybug.”

Ladybug? He had heard Bruce mention a Parisian team. They asked for any heroes to stay out of Paris as their villain was one that manipulated emotions, turning his victims into puppets of his own bidding. No wonder Bruce and Dick were blowing up his phone. They weren’t just worried about him running off, they were also worried about him breaking an international treaty.

Damian blinked slowly as he processed the image in front of him. Kwamiis. He had heard the legend of them back when he was apart of the League of Assassins, but he had no idea they truly existed. Why was his soulmate in possession of the most powerful being in the world?

“It’s a long story soulmate of the Chosen. I have traveled long and wide and have had many wielders before, but never one as capable as Marinette. When I first found myself as her partner, she was clumsy and shy, but so friendly and kind, always going out of her way to help people. Together, we defeated the original Hawkmoth, but in the battle, his kwamii was reclaimed by one of his partners and a new Lady Hawk emerged.”

“Why are you telling me this?” The kwamii shot him a questioning look as if the answer was obvious.

“I’m trying to give you the full picture of where it all began. You blame yourself as the catalyst, but you were only a small stepping stone in her downfall, almost not worth mentioning.”

Damian felt an odd swelling in his chest. It almost felt like, relief? Had he really been this worried that he had pushed her down this path? A lonesome tear trickled from his eye, but he was quick to snatch away.

“Marinette had friends, a boyfriend even. She wasn’t completely lost without a soulmate. After all, her parents weren’t soulmates, and her best friend was rejected by their soulmate too. She was happy.” The kwamii paused, her smile reminiscing before it slowly morphed into a frown. But it all changed when a wretched girl transferred into her middle school.”

“Just one girl changed everything?”

The kwamii nodded, small tears forming.

“She was the real catalyst. The reason everything fell apart.”

Damian lost track of how long he sat listening to the small God. When he stood to return to the waiting room, he couldn’t help but clench his fist in an attempt to calm himself. Marinette had to pull through, she just had to. Damian had to show her that there was more to life than this shitty one in Paris. He had to rescue her like his family had for him.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

It was 36 hours before he was allowed back to see her.

She had been lucky, the knife had missed her vital organs and even though it had punctured her lung, she seemed to be on track for a full recovery, one that she needed to take slowly. Damian dealt with the police on her behalf and thanks to Tikki’s information, he was able to help them identify the mugger.

Tikki had gone ahead to talk to Marinette and to give him time to freshen up. He didn’t have much, but the little he had packed at least got him fresh clothing, clothing not stained with her blood. Alfred would not be happy with him once he returned.

Damian was unsure how to approach her. He had found some flowers in the gift shop he thought were nice and some chocolates as well. But as he stood in front of her hospital room, he realized he hadn’t figured out the first thing he should say to her.

I’m sorry? No, that sounded too arrogant after everything she had been through. My name’s Damian, I saved your life? No, that would be condescending. God, he really hated talking to people.

“Are you going to come in or just sit outside all day?” Her voice sent shivers down his spine. She hadn’t always been this cold, but he couldn’t blame her.

Hesitantly, he reached out, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. She looked angry, slight red emphasized on her pale skin, the dark circles under her eyes protruding as if they dared him to comment on them. There were a million and one wires and tubes poking out in different directions, some hooked to machines, some to random bags of fluid.

Yet, despite all of it, she still looked absolutely stunning.

“Well, sit down or something. You’re creeping me out just standing there.”

Damian shuffled awkwardly to the opposite side of her bed, his legs wobbling as he lowered himself into the chair.

“Uhm, I brought you some flowers-”

“I hate the color white.” Damian felt his eyebrow twitch, but he tried his best to hold back the expression he felt. Gently, he reached back, setting the flowers on the windowsill.

“I-Uhm-I also brought you some chocolat-”

“I’m on a liquid-only diet for the next two weeks.”

Damian could feel the red rushing to his face as he breathed deeply. He knew there was a chance that she would be spiteful, but he hadn’t been completely ready for it. His fuse was short, even if it was his soulmate, he wasn’t sure he could contain the explosion.

“Are you feeling any better?” Marinette scoffed, her eyes never leaving her hands.

“Did you fly all the way to Paris for small talk Damian?” He wasn’t sure how to respond, knowing his next words might be his last. “Ask what you really want to. Like why did I detransform before trying to face the mugger? Or why have I tried to kill myself multiple times even if each time ended in failure?”

“I-”

“Ask me why all my friends left me. Ask me why my master chose the easy way out, forgetting everything before passing on weeks later without even a single message about his death from him or his girlfriend. Ask me why I hate life so much that I just don’t see the reason in living anymore. Ask me if I think you’ll change my mind! Spoiler alert! You won’-”

“God woman, do you ever shut up? Give me five damn seconds to get my thoughts together.”

Damian instantly felt the eyes of Tikki fall upon him, the anger draining from his body only to be replaced by his rising fear. He felt the apology building up, but before he could even let the first word spill out, a bitter laugh cut him off.

“Yeah, I do shut up. But only sometimes. I figured Tikki told you everything. I also figured you’d have questions. I’m not interested in telling my sob story over again and I’m not interested in some knight in shining armor swooping in to save me, Got it?”

Damian tried to speak, but it was as if his voice were caught in his throat. What could he say to her? He wasn’t trying to be her knight? He didn’t need her explanations? Everything sounded so thoughtless, but he couldn’t string together one coherent and earnest sentence to save his life.

“What I am interested in is your nonsensical shouting. You ‘need me’? You just met me, how do you know that you need me?”

If he wasn’t already as red as a tomato, he was certain that was how he looked now.

“I,” he cleared his voice, praying to whatever was listening to keep the crack away, “I just had this feeling swell up in my chest seeing you like that. I was terrified and it scared me. It scared me to feel that way about someone who I had just laid eyes on. I had heard about soulmate bonds and how they affect you. They can strengthen you, but they can also be your downfall. I needed to get to know you, to know how our bond would affect me.”

He paused, the feeling of her eyes on him choking him up.

“I, uh, I know it’s selfish, but I couldn’t let you die. You don’t have to believe me, you don’t even have to listen to me, but I have been where you are before. But before I could even make my first attempt, I had a group of people come into my life, people who lifted me up and saved me. I was scared that you didn’t have that and I arrogantly believed I could do that for you. I’m truly sorry Marinette, but I refuse to apologize for saving your life. If I could, I would do it over and over and over again as many times as it takes until you decide to keep living.”

The silence was deafening. Even if she just yelled at him and told him to leave, he would take it over this quiet. He didn’t dare look up, he barely felt the urge to breathe. It was as if everything fiber in him was holding their breath, waiting to hear her response, any response.

“You’re really not gonna leave me alone, huh?”

Her voice sounded tight as if she were holding back tears. The urge surged through him to reach forward and pull her into a hug, but he contained himself, defaulting to a simple nod instead. Again, the silence followed, but he was patient. He would wait all day if it meant hearing her speak again.

“Fine. I’m not guaranteeing a damn thing, but I can offer you a start.”

“A start?” Damian risked a small glance up, his heart racing at the sight. She was smiling, a genuine smile. It looked out of place among her tear-stained face, but he would be lying if he didn’t say it was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen.

“Yeah, apparently I’m going to need someone to stay by my side 24/7 when they release me. Someone to take care of me. A stay-at-home nurse if you will. So, I nominate you, Damian. Your response?”

“Absolutely, it would be my honor.” His reply was instant, his smile unwavering even after she chucked her pillow at him, cussing him out in a manner that Todd would be proud of.

Yes, it was just a start. Yes, it didn't mean anything was fixed. But, there was one thing that put his heart at ease.

He wasn’t too late.

No, in fact, he was just in time to save her life. And at that very moment, he vowed to never wait till it was almost too late again.

Despite everything that had happened, he decided he could live with that.

Permanent Tag List:

@ash-amg @rebecarojas07 @heaven428 @long-lost-peace @thequeenofpotatoeunicornss @moongoddesskiana @nach0ava @iamablinkmarvelarmy @seraphkitty @clumsy-owl-4178 @pawsitivelymiraculous @mialuvscats @leagrey @smolplantmum @animegirlweeb @glitterflowercat @ladybug-182 @maskedpainter @remy-289 @redbullgivescaswings @icerosecrystal @animegirlweeb @jayjayspixiepop @certainmuffinbagelcalzone @kking13 @toodaloo-kangaroo @crazylittlemunchkin

#marinette x damian #maribat #daminette

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ravennm84 · 4 years

Text

Lyre Festival Justice

Here is the sequel to Lyre Festival Fraud where you get to see exactly what happened to Lila during her long weekend after she went back to Italy. I thought, at first, that I may have gone to far with the salt... But it’s Lila and I really don’t like her character. So, Warm-Fuzzies and enjoy this salty goodness!!

It was a beautiful day in Rome and Lila was enjoying her shopping spree around the city. She and her mother had spent the first few days after moving back to Italy unpacking and getting settled. It was Sunday, and her mother had to go to the embassy to make sure that all of her paperwork had transferred from Paris, which gave Lila the opportunity to spend the money she’d gotten from the idiots from her old class. Really, she couldn’t believe how stupid they all were to have just handed her over €2,000 for a luxury vacation in Venice. She should have gotten at least €3,000 from the class, but that Mari-brat and stick-in-the-mud Adrien had convinced some of them that she was lying. Oh well, €2,000 was better than nothing.

Best part, none of it could be traced back to her. They travelled to Venice on their own, nothing had been written down, her old mobile phone was disconnected and in a landfill somewhere, and she would just tell her mother that she had gotten all her new clothes at a thrift shop she remembered from the last time they’d been living in Rome. And if the idiots got in trouble and tried to say that she was involved, she’d turn on the tears and her mother would side with her like she always did. Seeing a little cafe, she stopped in to get a good cappuccino, it had been too long since she’d had a deceit cup of coffee.

It was mid afternoon by the time she got home. She had made a stop at the thrift store to grab a couple of their shopping bags to hide the real ones inside. It felt wrong to put a Versace skirt in a bargain bag, but one does what one must to keep her life going smoothly. Opening the door to the apartment, she barely caught sight of her mother sitting on the couch before Lila started gushing about how great it was to be back in Italy and all the things she’d missed.

She prattled on for a couple minutes before noticing that her mother hadn’t said anything. Turning to look at her, Lila flinched when she saw her. Something was seriously wrong, the last time she had seen her mother so angry was when she’d told her that her dad was cheating on her. That hadn’t been true but they had ended up getting divorced anyway, which was to Lila’s benefit since the man had always called her out on her lies.

“Is everything okay, Mama?” She asked cautiously, doing her best to sound and appear small and innocent.

“Sit down.”

Her tone left no room for argument. Lila set down her bags and sat in the chair across from her mother.

“Mama, wha-”

“Be quiet!” She snapped, and Lila shut her mouth. This actually seemed worse than the fight her parents had before they divorced. “I received a very strange email on Friday night, from a former classmate of yours in Paris. It seemed that the majority of your class was under the impression that we were throwing a party for a lot of important politicians, celebrities, and musicians on a private island and you had invited them. I told myself, ‘not my daughter, she would never do something like that’. But the email went on, with a list of the students that were supposedly going on this trip and gave you money for the expenses. Again, I thought ‘Lila would never be so cruel as to steal money from her friends right before we left Paris’. So I told the person who sent me that detailed information, that I would handle it. I still thought it was a joke.”

The teenage girl didn’t even have to listen to the end of this story, she knew that goody-two-shoes Marinette had ratted her out. Lila was fighting every instinct she had to run and lock herself in her room, but if she moved even a little her mother would stop her. She could only sit there and hope that she could come up with some kind of lie to convince her mother that she was being set up.

“Then when I went into the embassy today, my boss pulled me into his office and started grilling me as to why I allowed seven unaccompanied minors entry into the country. I tried to explain that I had no idea what he was talking about, and then he started reading off the names. Do you want to guess why those names sounded so familiar?”

By this point, Lila was practically curling into herself to make herself appear smaller. She had to say something, any lie that would make her mother believe her and only her. Turning on the tears, she buried her face in her hands and spoke between sobs. Fake crying always gave her a few extra seconds to think before she had to speak. “I swear, Mama. I didn’t want to do it. Marinette forced me to take those papers from your office to give to our classmates so they could get into the country without their parents. I never took any money from them, I swear! Marinette was bullying me the entire time we were in Paris, I was scared of what she’d do to me if I didn’t do what she said. You’ve got to believe me!”

“So you’re saying that you didn’t tell your class about some non-existent party on a private island, had no knowledge of who was coming into Italy, where they were going, or anything like that?” Her mother’s eyes narrowed as she brought out her mobile phone.

Her hands were shaking as she kept her face buried in her hands, something about her mother’s tone and the way she spoke made this feel like a trap. But she couldn’t backtrack now, Marinette was her way out and she had to stick with it. So she nodded as she continued to sob into her hands.

“Then please explain this to me.” Her mother turned the phone towards her and Lila looked up, her face falling in horror when she heard her own voice. It was a video of her telling her class about who was going to be at the party that she and her mom were organizing, how she was going to need to know for sure who all was coming before the weekend, and Marinette had somehow gotten video of Alya and Nino each handing her €300!

It took longer than she would like to admit for the shock to wear off, but she was smart enough to stick to her original story. “It’s fake! Marinette must have made it to get me in trouble. Max probably helped her, he’s really good with computers. It’s all too convenient to be true. I mean, she sends you all this information about which people are going, how much money they gave me, and a story about a party on a private island in Venice, that anyone would be able to see is clearly fake. Can’t you see that I’m being set up?”

Her mother’s eyes grew harder as she stood from her chair, causing Lila to shrink even further into her own.

“You say that this is all a set up and you had no idea where your classmates were going in Italy, but you just told me the exact city where they were found. You left them waiting on a dock for you to come ferry them to that non-existent private island, and don’t even bother saying that you know which city because of the video I just showed you, because it never names the city they were in.”

Well, crap. She was about to try another tactic, but her mother cut her off before the first syllable left her mouth.

“Young lady, do you have any idea how much trouble you are in?” she yelled, her face beginning to turn a purplish-red and began pacing the room. “You forged my signature on multiple federal documents, endangered the lives of multiple minors, committed theft, and god knows how many other laws you’ve broken. I can’t protect you from this! You will be facing federal charges for what you’ve done!”

Lila felt her stomach drop to her ankles. “But-but that was all in Paris, and I had diplomatic immunity while I was there!”

“It became an international incident when you forged an ambassador’s signature on federal documents that endangered minors! My boss gave me a choice,” her voice grew even harder and colder than before. “Either you answer for what you’ve done and plead guilty, or I lose my job and we both go to trial for what you’ve done.”

“You’d let me go to jail for one little lie? It’s not like anyone got hurt!” Lila screamed, standing from her chair in a panic. This was much worse than she’d imagined.

“And what if they had been?” Her mother screamed back. “What if they had been kidnapped and sold into human trafficking? What if one of them had fallen off the dock and drowned in the channel or hit by a boat? I would be held responsible for that because you forged my signature! Do you not care about the people around you at all? What is wrong with you?”

“But nothing happened to them! It’s their own fault for being stupid enough to believe such an obvious lie. And you’re taking their side over mine? How dare you call yourself my mother and claim to love me!”

“Don’t you dare try to blame me for your bad behavior!” Her mother yelled back as she advanced on her, making her fall back onto the chair. Mme. Rossi looked back at the shopping bags she had knocked over when she had turned, revealing the Versace bag. Tilting her head back, she took multiple deep breaths before looking at her daughter.

“This is what’s going to happen. You are going to return everything you bought today, and you are going to explain to the managers of each store exactly why you are returning everything.” Lila was about to protest, but one look from her mother had her mouth snapping shut. “We will also be clearing out your savings to pay back your classmates for the money you took, their travel expenses, their parents travel expenses, and any money they lost while being away from their jobs to retrieve their children. After that, you will be standing trial for forgery and fraud. If you know what’s good for you, you will go before the judge and apologize profusely for what you’ve done and listen to everything the judge tells you. If you’re lucky you may receive a lenient sentence; but either way, you can expect your next school to be a reformatory school. And if you try to fight me on any of this, I will let a court appointed attorney with no experience handle your case instead of the family lawyer. Have I made myself clear?”

No longer having to fake her tears, Lila nodded to her mother, resigning herself to the fact that her life had been ruined because her mother didn’t love her and Marinette didn’t know how to keep her nose out of where it didn’t belong.

~oOo~

The rest of the day, Lila was forced to return everything that she bought back to the stores and tell the managers how she had stolen the money from her classmates and then abandoned them in a country and city that they weren’t familiar with. The people that overheard her were horrified by what she had done and the managers banned her from ever shopping in those stores again. After all, if she was willing to steal money from her friends, there was little doubt that she would steal from the stores.

After everything was returned, she was taken to the embassy where they recorded her confession on how she lied to everyone, forged her mother’s signature on the documents she stole, and how she scammed over €2,000 from her former classmates. After the confession was taped, she was taken outside of the embassy and handed over to the police to be kept in a juvenile detention center. She screamed at her mother, not believing that she would just hand her over like that, but the woman looked down her nose at her and said, “It’s time for you to face the consequences of your actions, young lady.”

When she arrived at the police station, she was relieved to see their family lawyer was waiting for her, although he was less than thrilled by what she had done. He explained that even as a minor, she could be serving 2-6 years just for the forgery of the documents, that wasn’t even factoring in the scam or reckless endangerment of seven minors. If she were to be tried as an adult, she could be serving 6 years for each document, facing serious fines and more time for each classmate she endangered.

After hearing that, Lila had to rush to the trash can to throw up. She couldn’t believe that one little lie could get her into so much trouble. But this wasn’t her fault, none of it was. If there was anyone to blame, it was that goody-two-shoes Marinette Dupain-Cheng. After all the effort she went through to destroy that girl, she just wouldn’t back down. She would make that girl pay for what she’d done. As soon as the charges were all dropped, she would do everything she could, use every dirty trick in the book to force the nosy girl to end her life and stay out of hers.

But that would have to wait for now. For the time being, she would do what her mother said and play her part. Act like the innocent girl that had gotten caught up in her own fibs while trying to make friends in a new country. She didn’t mean for anyone to get hurt or in trouble, she was just so overwhelmed and she is so sorry for everything that happened. She would need to cry a lot, that was a given, but she could do this. Just fake it until she could get her revenge on the girl that ruined her life.

~oOo~Three Months Later~oOo~

Lila hadn’t meant to lose control in front of the judge. She’d spent months locked away with a bunch of low-class delinquents, talking to different lawyers and quack-doctors before going to court. She had been the picture of innocence and childhood regret the second she walked into the courtroom, she was sure to get off all the charges against her. But she and her lawyer had been blindsided.

The quack-doctors had called her a narcissist and a sociopath, in need of desperate help. To prove that, all of her lies, everything she had said while in Paris had been brought into evidence against her. They’d exposed her truancy and forgery at her old school, found proof of her purposefully getting Marinette expelled, and faking interviews on the Ladyblog which brought her more lawsuits from a bunch of the celebrities she’d lied about.

Some of her classmates had come to give testimony on what she had done and said during her time in Paris. The goodie-two-shoes brat had even come to Italy to give testimony against her, though Lila hadn’t been allowed in the courtroom while she was there, as Marinette hadn’t felt safe to be in the same room. Lila’s lawyer had actually agreed, probably so she wouldn’t cause a scene. And she probably would have. She would have stabbed her in the face with a pencil, in front of the entire courtroom, if she had the chance.

But the worst had to do with the school security cameras. After M. Damocles and Mme. Bustier had been fired for neglectful and abusive behavior to their students, which had been brought about by the investigation into Marinette’s expulsion, the Board of Governors went farther back through the recordings to see how long the bullying had been going on. What they found was video evidence of Lila grabbing an akuma out of the air and putting it into her earring, and then willingly working with the known terrorist.

To make matters even worse, Ladybug and Chat Noir had sent a video as testimony of the times Lila had purposefully interfered with their rescues and had led Chat away from Ladybug to make her more vulnerable to the akuma Oni-chan. Her lawyer tried to get the video stricken from evidence as he couldn’t cross-examine the two heroes, but it was denied.

Her parents had been sitting behind her when they showed those videos. When her mother saw them, it was like she completely shut down. She heard her say that she wanted to leave, and Lila watched as her father helped her mother to her feet and lead her out of the courtroom without looking back.

The judge had been absolutely disgusted with her, going as far as to call her a monster for willingly aiding a terrorist. Since she had already confessed to multiple counts of forgery, fraud, and reckless endangerment of minors, and would now be adding slander and other charges from her time in Paris, the most notable being terrorism; he declared that she would be tried as an adult and was likely to spend the rest of her life in prison.

She’d completely lost it at that point, screaming at the top of her lungs as she jumped over the table to attack the judge. She didn’t remember smashing the water pitcher against one guard's head, scratching another guard across the face, or getting tasered in the back. When she woke up, she was strapped to a bed by her wrists and ankles, her head felt really foggy, and there were a bunch of nurses and orderlies that were keeping keen eyes on her.

Lila Rossi spent the rest of her life heavily medicated in a maximum security mental health hospital. Most every night, the nurses would hear her plotting some kind of scheme to show everyone what a loser Marinette was, but then she would trail off about how she wanted to hear the song Jagged Stone wrote for her or the album she’d help Clara Nightingale write. When she saw people, she would ramble and lie about being a princess or a secret agent, and that she was only here to keep her safe until they came to get her. Over the years, it was all written off as the insane ramblings of a very disturbed girl that would be remaining at the hospital for the rest of her life.

#lila salt #lila gets exposed #lila karma #ml fic #lila lies

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miss-choco-chips · 4 years

Text

Twisted Soulmate shorts.

Listen, I do plan on making a sequel eventually, but in the meantime, can I tempt you with some half assed bits of Tim’s life as Ra’s Bonded/Bride/Unwilling Sugar baby? All in the spirit of putting off studying for my finals :D

~.~

“We need some ground rules”, Tim stated plainly, staring at the fiery hell in front of them. By his side, Ra’s sipped his wine glass, as cozy in front of all the destruction as one would standing by a fireplace. He looked ready to break out the s'mores. “Some Do’s and Do not’s, with penalties for each one we break. So, you know. We don’t completely destroy each other.”

“Be honest with me, Beloved, would that actually stop you from infringing damage to my properties?”

In the spirit of good sportsmanship, Tim actually thought about it for a few minutes.

~.~

Or; Tim elopes with Ra’s and commits to his role as the world’s most unimpressed, reluctant bride ‘soulmate’. Featuring Pru (who is having entirely too much fun), four little minions (whoever catches the reference and knows which fandom I stole them from gets brownie points) and absolutely no sign of any bats to spoil Tim’s fun.

~.~

The robe was green, and that was a problem. It wasn’t itchy, it wasn’t uncomfortable, it wasn’t restrictive.

But it was green.

Pru’s eyes found his in the mirror, a scowl and a smirk facing each other. Tim crossed his arms, the exquisite silk not even creasing, and his frown deepened. One of the robe’s sleeves covered him from shoulder to wrist, the other leaving the opposite limb completely bare. The intent was obvious enough, one mark on display, the others hidden away like dirty secrets.

So why the need for that branding color?

“Isn’t this excessive? Putting a collar on me may be easier, for his purpose.”

“Should I forward that idea to the Master?”

“Only if you want another punch to the nose.”

A snort, and Pru took the two steps keeping her at his back. Her hand dropped to his shoulder, and the expression on the assassin’s face changed to a far more serious one.

“Are you sure you want to do this? I could help you out of the base. Still owe you a few, we can call this one even for that time in Budapest.”

Tim’s scowl went away, a contemplative look on his eyes as they lowered to the ground.

“I’m not sure of anything nowadays, Pru. Except perhaps that I don’t want to wear this color.”

Her grip tightened for a second, two, three. Then, her eyes flew to the window and back to him before her next words came out, fake smirk back on place.

“Well then, the Master expects you to join him for breakfast. We’ll be moving bases soon, and I think he wanted to give you the tour before that.”

Tim’s eyes, that had followed hers to the window, stayed there, guarded and cold like they never were. He nodded.

“I’ll be there shortly. Just need to… fix my appearance a bit.”

She nodded, her smirk more sincere now, and left his bedchambers.

The shadows jumped into the room before the door was even halfway closed.

A little over half an hour later, Ra’s Al Ghul looked up from the reports he was revising, cup of tea still untouched on the table, pastries and fruits perfectly distributed in front of him, to watch the Detective approach.

His robe was a curious maroon.

As if sensing his question, the young man took his place across from the Demon’s head, placid smile softening his features despite ice cold eyes boring into his.

“Oh, this?”, demurely, he raised the covered arm, accepting the coffee one of his servants provided. The sleeve slipped down enough to show three names on white skin, but Ra’s eyes strayed to the clothe. He knew that shade of brownish.

“I could have sworn I sent you green robes, Detective. I do wonder, where did you find a dye?”

“As I’m sure Pru can tell you, noses bleed a lot. On the bright side, you don’t have to worry about sending a clean up crew to tidy up my bedchambers. Nice morning workout, too, thank you.”

Amused despite himself, Ra’s threw his head back and laughed.

----.---

“Be honest with me, Beloved, would that actually stop you from infringing damage to my properties?”

In the spirit of good sportsmanship, Tim actually thought about it for a few minutes. “I mean, as long as you respect my boundaries, I won’t have a reason to show my displeasure.”

“And what about my boundaries? It’s only reasonable that for each rule you decide on, I get to demand one of my own making.”

“If they don’t conflict with mine, I guess I could learn to work around them. Considering what you do for a living, it’s not like you can ask for more.”

Ra’s tilted his head, as if saying ‘yeah, fair’. They watched the flames consuming one of Ra’s favored castles in silence for a while longer. The parisian authorities would be arriving soon, though no before they were ready to leave; Ra’s wouldn’t allow any interruptions.

They were probably making the ninja standing guard behind them uncomfortable, with the silence, veiled threats and mind games. Except for Pru. She’d be thriving in her fellows’ fear.

“Should we go somewhere more private to decide this rules, Timothy?”

A shake, long raven locks hitting the air like small whips, and the young hero turned on his heel to go back to the plane waiting for them.

“I need some time to think them over. I’ll let you know when I decide.”

---.---

Is the Demon’s Head, instead, who demands the first one.

“You will allow a squad of my people around you at all times, Detective, and you’ll let them tend to you as it’s becoming of my bride.”

“If you ever call me your bride again”, states the young man, calmly turning a page on the book he was reading, curled up in the armchair Ra’s had specifically made his men drag into his office for the sole purpose of tempting him into staying put and in Ra’s direct line of sight, “the next base I make go boom will be the one you’re in at that moment.”

“My soulmate.”

“Still creepy, but significantly less; I’ll accept it. What were you saying about bodyguards? The answer is no, by the way, but I thought it would be fair to let you explain your reasoning before shooting you down again.”

“I have no need for explaining myself; you were the one to suggest rules. This is merely the first one. As it is, and since you asked so nicely, I’ll tell you that, as my bonded, you have a price in your head so high even the purest of heart man would be tempted to hunt you down. It’s merely for your safety, as I worry so.”

The dirty look the younger gives him over his book shows him exactly what he thinks of Ra’s obvious jab at his abilities and strength.

“There’s also the matter of your lack of sleep, or the blatant underweight you’re showing.”

“I don’t need a nanny nor a bodyguard, Ra’s.”

“Maybe so, but what would my enemies think of my power if I couldn’t spare a few men to protect my bonded? You can think of it as a political tactic, if it’ll lay your worries at rest. It won’t be to spy on you, as I already have a team dedicated to that.”

Not even a blink, of course he knew, he’d be an idiot to think Ra’s was giving him wiggle room without someone hounding his steps. A hum, the flicker of something behind the man’s eyes that put Ra’s instantly on guard, but not enough to help him predict his next movement.

“You know that any rule you make, I can counter with one of my own.”

“I do, and am ready to honor, as it’s the nature of our deal. I’m a man of my word.”

“Okay then”, the detective finally conceded, sitting up straight, book closed on his lap and hands resting easily over the cover. “I’ll accept your terms, and won’t give my future clique the slip.”

Despite this small victory, Ra’s didn’t allow himself to relax; now came the detective’s countermeasure.

Calmly as still water, the slim man stood up, walking towards Ra’s desk, opening the book on its first page and softly placing in on the wood between them. One slice of paper, carefully folded, gave the Demon’s Head pause.

“Since you insist this is for show, and thus not requiring specific skills on the ninja’s part, I’m going to choose who will be part of my clique. After all, I’ll be in perpetual close quarters with these people, it’s only fair I get to decide who it’ll be.”

Ra’s eyes never left the icy blue ones staring him down. It’d be a fatal mistake to let one’s sight wander when there was a viper in the room.

“Prudence is already tasked with managing your schedule, she can’t be considered among these you selected.”

“She isn’t”, was fired back. “These aren’t fully fledged ninja, they have just begun their training. As such, I can make sure their progress aligns with my needs, something that will make them more useful in the long run if they are to be my shadows. A sniper that can socially blend in as a perfect camaleon. A prodigy, both in mind games and the technological world. A mechanic well versed in a caregiver tasks. A naturally born fighter, showed proficiency particularly on swords and hand to hand. I think those four tick every box you might want to fill, don’t you?”

A few seconds pass, while Ra’s tries to think back on every newish recruit who had the described qualities. He couldn’t come with a single one. Too many variables.

Despite himself, he nods. His bonded lifts his hand from the desk, and picks up his book on his way to the door, not looking back while Ra's unfolds the list.

He feels himself freeze.

“Children?”

Timothy has already left the room. Ra's can't help but feel pride. As foolish as he thinks his bonded's mission to be, he has to admire his dedication to it, and Timothy had just spent the equivalent of a Genie's first wish with the purpose of freeing four young ones from the League's training and future.

-----.-----

Tim is looking down at his three 'bodyguards', knowing he made the right call but still feeling the panic creeping up on him. Like, fuck, this was clearly an evil organization, as no self respecting moral one would allow him to be responsible of four impressionable, probably traumatized children.

L, P, H and K. 9, 7, 10 and 9 respectively. All sitting down, hands on their laps, eyes down. Ready to obey any order.

Fuck, he wanted to puke.

Breathing in deeply, he crouched in front of them. Tried for a smile. Too forced. Settled for a grimace.

“My name is Tim”, he started, “and you're safe with me. I'll train you, protect you from the League as much as possible, and try my best to help you escape if I find a better place for you.”

He doesn't bother lying for appearances sake. Ra's must know Tim's reasons for choosing children (too good, would be noticed soon by their teachers, would be under Ra's thumb sooner rather than later), but it didn't matter. Even if Tim managed to get them away, it was his right. For all intents and purposes, as far as the League was concerned, he owned them. Not that he was going to tell them that: if it made him sick to think that, he can only imagine that information on the children's minds.

They don't seem to believe him, but answer honestly when asked questions about their past. L had (bravely, stupidly) sold himself into servitude to the League to help his family. P, apparently a smart cookie, was sold away by some scientific organization back home when she started asking too many question about the disappearance of her father and brother. One of H's mothers had left the League when she married, and her son was taken away as compensation in the middle of the night, when she couldn't fight back (luckily, as she'd have died and they would have still taken the kid). K was an orphan, sucked into the League too young, but saved by an older apprentice who took him under his wing: said boy was now missing, and K's obvious short fuse wouldn't stand for it long.

He wants to save these children so bad it hurts. Has to remind himself that whatever he will do about this (and he still has to think about it), he won't be able to do for a while.

----.----

He keeps some sort of schedule. Waking up in the morning, breakfast with Ra's unless previously canceled by the other man, training his new minions, break a fight between L and K, lunch, give them numerous tasks to get them off his back (keeping one close for appearances sake; they were his bodyguards after all, or would be after some training), wander along whichever base they were at the moment, tea with Ra's, picking up his brats, wander some more and some time for them to play like actual children, dinner, bed. Rinse repeat.

Some variations, however, were inevitable.

Groaning Tim rolled on his back, silken sheets under him and around his legs, to look at the four little heads waiting by his bedside, various degrees of alarm there.

“What is it?”

H's hand gripped tighter L's, who had the other arm wrapped around P. K was standing in front of them, dagger at the ready.

“The base is under attack. We await our instructions, Master.”

“Tim”, he reminded the child, before yawning. “Who is it again?”

This time, the youngest and only girl talked. “We are not sure. Said something about The Demon's Head being their archenemy and/”

“Then it's a Ra's problem, not a Us problem. Let the man handle it, he has enough manpower as it is, and even if he doesn’t, he's due for a swim anytime now”, dropping his head and closing his eyes once again, he vaguely waved a hand in their general direction. “You guys go back to bed, just be careful and lock the door in case some of Ra's worst people let someone wander.”

“We can't possibly leave you! What if you're attacked? We'd be too far away to protect you!” K’s tiny hand tightened around his knife. “We'd fail our mission!”

Reigning in a groan, he gave it a thought. They had a point, in that were anything to happen, he risked not being close enough to keep the children safe.

Sighing, he waved a hand again.

“Okay, you guys can stay, but we are not getting up. It's like five am, I went to sleep less than an hour ago.”

P jumped in place and frowned at him. “We escorted you here right after dinner.”

“That you did. Anyway, cuddle piles anyone?”

L jumped right in, as he expected, worming his way under the sheets until he could cuddle to Tim's left side, dragging H behind him. P seemed to think about it, but if the dark circles under her eyes (and his informants) were to be trusted, she'd probably slept as much as him, most assuredly looking into her family's disappearance. She finally fell on his other side, instantly groaning.

K looked at all of them in disappointment, and stubbornly sat down behind P, his back to them and facing the door. Tim wondered what it would take to get the kid to chill.

Shrugging (you can't win them all), he went back to sleep.

By the time he really woke up, it was to an amused Pru holding hauntingly a camera and smirking down at him. All four kids were now cuddled around him.

“Shut up, Pru. Like you can talk. I saw you giving L that practice gun the other day, don't think I didn't.”

#twisted soulmate #soulmate au #nemesis au #Tim drake #Ra's al Ghul #Pru #four small minions Tim's gonna steal from Ra's #those are a reference to another fandom I love #brownie points to whoever notices the reference #spy vs spy kinda thing #Tim drake is an unwilling sugar baby #Ra's is all too happy to play sugar daddy for this kid #Ra's is creepy #my writting #my writing #Red robin

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witchesoz · 3 years

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After Oz: Legends of Oz

I hesitated before doing this one, because this movie is mostly based on the book "Dorothy of Oz" by Roger S. Baum, and I haven't read said book. It is something that tends to get on my nerve, when people actually don't care about the original material an adaptation was based on, and consider the adaptation as its own entirely original piece of work, when in fact, a lot of it was taken from somebody's else work. I mean, the perfect exemple is Shining. Some people praise Kubrick for being a pure genius for inventing this story from A to Z, and consider Stephen's King television series a "poor attempt at a remake of the movie", when... you know, King originally wrote the Shining and Kubrick merely adapted it. In fact, people tend to forget most of Kubrick's movies were adaptation. Dr. Strangelove? Loosely based on "Red Alert". Lolita? Everyone knows it is Nabokov. A Clockwork Orange? Anthony Burgess. 2001: Space Odyssey? Inspired by shorts stories of Clarke, the co-author. Eyes Wide Shut? A 1920s German book, Traumnovelle. And so forth and so forth...

Hum. Sorry for the rant. I just needed to explain why I always want to take in consideration the original material when tackling an adaptation. But since I haven't read and can't get this book, I will mostly rely myself on the Wikipedia plot and other reviews I read. If you wonder, yes, Roger S. Baum is Baum's great-grandson (or great-great-grandson?), and he wrote "Dorothy of Oz" as a direct sequel to the first book, "The Wizard of Oz", ignoring all of the others, and... apparently he is not a really good writer. But anyway... I still decided to do a little something about this movie, because... well just because I wanted Oh yeah, another thing... an elephant in the room I have to adress right now. I only discovered it this year, by doing research about the movie (because before I only saw it at the time of its released and then forgot about it). You can know it, or completely ignore it - yes, I know that this whole movie was the result of a huge scam that robbed hundreds of people out of their money, and that the case has been even brought to trial. But... well the movie is still here, people still saw it, it is still around, will be for still quite a long time, and it is now part of the Oz inheritance, that you want it or not. Anyway, a lot of Oz movies had a dark and troubled production. It seems almost like a pre-requisite: if you do an Oz movie, you'll never end happy. Maybe it is a curse? Who knows.

So... let's get into the subject. Is "Dorothy's Return" a bad movie? (I'll use this name, because "Legends of Oz" was the name of the intended franchise of three, maybe ten movies). I wouldn't say so. A lot of people said it was crap, or worthless, but I wouldn't call it bad. People also said that it is a bland movie, and I would say yes - but only partially. I think a good lot of the extreme bad reactions were caused because of 1- people who just disliked the idea of more Oz adaptations, 2- people too old for this movie, because you have to remember that this is a movie aiming at children and 3- people who are hard-die fans of the MGM movie and not so much of the original Oz books. It may also play in account that Dorothy's Return was roughly released the same year, and played as a "rival" to "Oz the Great and Powerful".

Now, note that it isn't a memorable movie (except for a few bits). It isn't an excellent movie. It isn't a cult classic (even though it may become it with the whole scam background, who knows?). It isn't something I would watch again and again with pleasure. It isn't something exceptionnal or groundbreaking, it is even quite generic. But, it has some good parts, and it manages to be entertaining, and honestly as a child I could have sit in front of it and watch it with no problem. Because, yes, it is a children movie. The action is rushed, the characters lack depth, some moments are too sugary-sweet or even cringy (for exemple the song "We'll work together". Seriously, I just looked away and sped up a bit because that was too sickening-sweet for me.) As a result, as a child movie they missed things that could have been really good (the old tree agreeing to be use for a boat, which is played straight up as him being killed, the characters even say so, but then it turns out he is still alive as a boat? You could have had a great, deep, fascinating almost philosophical moment, but you just waste it for a happy ending). Anyway, what was I saying? Yes, a children movie. As a result, some people called the movie "too simple". On the other side, people called the story "too confusing".

To an Oz fan like me, it isn't actually confusing. It isn't at all - but indeed, for someone with a limited knowledge of Oz, it will be confusing. Because, while they base themselves on an Oz book that re-uses many elements from the books (the Queen of the Field Mices, the Sawhorse, the China Country...) it also decided to include a lot of elements from the MGM movie (the Wicked Witch of the West is the one from the MGM, Glinda is also quasi-identical from her MGM counterpart, the Winged Monkeys work with the evil people...). As a result, yeah, it may be confusing. But the inclusion of the MGM elements actually managed to correct some flaws of the original story. For exemple, in Roger S Baum's book, the Jester was merely a normal jester possessed by the ghost of the Wicked Witch of the West, through her magic wand. Wait, magic wand? There wasn't any magic wand mentionned in the original book! But in the movie, to use the broomstick of the Wicked Witch makes much more sense.

I'll take a short time here to comment on the character of the Jester, who is, I think, the highest point of this movie. He is a good villain. A cliché but interesting backstory cashing on the idea of Oz vilains as siblings, a clear shout-out to the Joker which isn't so bad, interesting plans. He is also the provider of many nightmarish elements (the fate of Dorothy's companions, which I think was a very good idea, or the people turning into puppets and being used for a creepy dance) that made this Oz movie feel... well Ozian. Because a good Oz work is a work that will traumatize your kids! I guess a bit part of why the Jester works so well is that he basically repeats and remakes all his sister, the Wicked Witch, did in the MGM movie, and let's be honest, she was a great villain. (And this again makes sense when you remember the Jester is originally supposed to be possessed by the Witch's ghost). But at the same time he has his distinctive signature and style, with his Jester persona, his circus-related punishment and his personal plots to conquer Oz. [People noticed obviously the sweet irony of things in this movie. You have a double-character that, on the Earth world is a cheater and criminal trying to steal people of their houses and using several fake identities, while in Oz it is a villain that turns people into puppets he can manipulate and relies mostly on cheating and misleading Dorothy to her doom. Which is eerily similar to what the creators of the movie/franchise did with their financers and investors.]

Talking about the Earth side... The whole "earthly" parts are all bland and not memorable. Just like Dorothy, who isn't really... anything to be honest. The songs sung aren't memorable either. All of that is a fail. A lot of people also considered the Earthly animation uncanny, or even disturbing, but I personally wasn't bugged by it at all. I saw much more uncanny animation.

When it comes to the Oz part, I actually think they managed to create a perfect "Ozian story". As in, the general schema of the girl entering in Oz through an uncommon mean (here a people-eating rainbow, that I have to say was quite a scary scene to look at), then passing through many small kingdoms, meeting new friends, forming a team, discovering the villain and fighting him off - this plot was repeated by Baum times and times and times again, and probably comes from the original novel Dorothy of Oz. But it still works, as simple as it can be. Plus, the use of the China Country and the Candy County (I think its their name?) was quite a good choice. The China Country was one of Baum's earliest invention, while the Candy County (originating from the Roger S Baum book) is eerily similar to the Bunbury village, an invention of Baum, inhabited by living baked goods that also get angry at the protagonists for trying to eating them. Yes, all in all, the characters feel really Ozian. As for the other member of the team, "Wiser the Owl". Well... he had the potential to feel an interesting and Baum-ian character. But it falls flat because he just becomes one living fat joke. I mean, fat jokes can be funny. But when the character is mostly the joke itself well... yeah, not really working. He had a much interesting role in the prequel comic book.

Because yes, there is a comic book associated with this movie! As I said before, originally the project was to create a franchise of several movies, with toys, goodies, applications and video games. (Or at least that was the project the scam used). The comic is however found under the original title for the movie "Dorothy of Oz". I don't have much to say about it, outside that is was quite pleasing (even though it sometimes doesn't make sense when put in direct relationship to the movie), and that it introduced one interesting idea: that the magic of the broomstick/Witch relied mostly on manipulating the weather and nature. The Jester causes a flood to destroy the Munchkin town, he causes an earthquake to break the China Country, he uses heatwaves to melt the Candy County... And another interesting point, the role of Wiser. Indeed, in the movie he is presented as a "motor-mouth" that keeps talking about everything, knows a lot of stuff and has the tendency to finish other people's sentences. But it gets quickly overshadowed by the fat jokes (cause a big part of his character is that he used to be able to fly but now, because of his love for candy, he is too fat to fly). However, in the comic book he has rather the role of the one voice of reason and intelligence that offers down-to-earth, simple solutions to problems where the other Ozians search for more extravagant and magical possibilities. Exemple (SPOILERS: when trying to create a rainbow, the team searches everywhere, thinks of asking witches, wizards and candy makers. Wiser has to remind them that anybody can create a rainbow with just a good crystal and some light. SPOILER ENDING.)

(I actually read the comic book before looking at the movie, which may explain why I consider it better than the movie.) To return to my opinion on the movie... Not the greatest Oz movie, but certainly not the worst. Average, but on the good side. Entertaining and interesting, even though bland and generic. They got the feeling of an Oz story but they just didn't found a way to freshen up or make the story shine on its own. A good villain for a heroine easy to forget. Simple. Ideal for children, or to kill time, or just to inspire one for more Oz work.

#oz #review #after oz #opinion #animated movie #legends of oz #dorothy's return #legends of oz dorothy's return

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francesderwent · 4 years

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Without further ado, here are the winners for the Overly Specific Genre Book Awards for 2020.

In the Fluffy High School Rom Com of Tropes category: To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before, by Jenny Han. To All the Boys absolutely lives up to the guiltless-pleasure charm of the movies. Lara Jean is a wonderfully thoughtful, endearing narrator, and the romance has so much sweetness in it. Recommended, with the sequels, to anyone who watched the movie more than once.

In the Fluffy Adult Romance of Introspection category: How to Walk Away, by Katherine Center. Katherine Center is my go-to romance writer, always managing to balance heroines who aren’t merely made up of foibles and their truly hunky counterparts with surprisingly deep and effective musings on life and happiness. How to Walk Away is my favorite of hers. I laughed, I cried. Recommended to those looking for a love story that’s gentle but meaningful.

In the Regency Rom Com category: Cotillion, by Georgette Heyer. Details the fake engagement between a country girl who just wants to see London (and maybe make an old crush jealous) and a young man of means who has previously only cared about his wardrobe. Meddling, sight-seeing, and quite a lot of shopping occurs – and maybe love? This book made me laugh, and it made me google words and phrases from the time period. Recommended for anybody who likes To All the Boys and wishes period dramas were a little more lively.

In the Culture and Theology That Isn’t Exhausting to Read category: Orthodoxy, by G.K. Chesterton. A book about gratitude and wonder. Recommended for anybody who ever worried if all those fairytales made them look at the world in a naïve way.

In the Trashy YA Fantasy Enemies-to-Lovers category: The Folk of the Air trilogy, by Holly Black, starting with The Cruel Prince. I read a lot of trashy YA this year, and it’s a genre with a lot of darkness into which hope never fully breaks, and with a lot of subversion which never stops to ask the deeper meaning of the thing it’s undermined. In the middle of that, The Folk of the Air is a story about power and trust which starts dark and modern, and then by the end has fully transformed into a fairytale. (Content warning for a couple of sex scenes. They’re skippable.) Recommended for anybody who likes it when the character who thinks all they’re good for is destruction learns to trust and love.

In the Court Intrigue and Informal Pronouns of Intimacy category: The Goblin Emperor, Katherine Addison. Masterful worldbuilding and beautiful character development. About a young, neglected person rising to power and coming into his own. I cried a lot. Recommended for anyone who gasps when they suddenly say somebody’s first name in a period drama, and anyone who’s ever said to themselves, “I wish I could find another book like King of Attolia.”

And finally, my top 3 books of the year:

In the Children’s Literature That Made Me Cry category: The Penderwicks: a summer tale of four sisters, two rabbits, and a very interesting boy, by Jeanne Birdsall. This series about four young sisters doing their best to make friends, pursue their various hobbies, and uphold the family good name makes me want to use words like "delightful" and "charming" to describe it. It has a remarkably timeless feel even though the first book was written in 2005, but is particularly reminiscent of Louisa May Alcott and Frances Hodgson Burnett. The stories are unapologetically about good people who love each other. They will lighten your heart. Highly recommended for: young girls of twelve, disillusioned adults, and any human being with a beating heart.

In the Masterful Conclusion to Series in the Works for Over Two Decades category: The Return of the Thief, by Megan Whalen Turner. What is there I can possibly say about this book? It has everything – moments of picturesque domesticity with our old faves, gasp-worthy moments of power and brilliance, lore that repaints the context and meaning of the whole saga. But especially, Return of the Thief drives home what the series has been about all along: what makes a hero, what makes a human being. A man without a right hand can steal treasures greater and more hidden than anyone else even thought to look for. A man seemingly without courage can face down armies. A woman without beauty can inspire unimaginable love. A man without freedom can makes the choice to change the fate of nations. And a child without a voice can rise above generations of disloyalty and false messages from false gods to save kings and countries. The whole series is highly recommended for: sarcastic teens, people who hate Game of Thrones, and anybody who likes people who are smarter than them.

In the Stories About Love That Are Also About Murder category: The Beekeeper’s Apprentice, by Laurie R. King. The setting is the early 1900s in England, exquisitely well-researched and immersive. The protagonist is Mary Russell, young, brilliant, and with an interest in theology. Her dearest friend is a supposedly retired detective who has turned country beekeeper. These books are masterfully subtle, with trust and love growing up quietly amongst the mysteries and the theological symbolism. Highly recommended for: people who like Agatha Christie and also the found family trope.

#cate reads

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kelyon · 3 years

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Golden Rings 18: A Bouquet

The Storybrooke Sequel to Golden Cuffs

Lacey Gold looks deeper into her past.

Trigger warning for grief over a deceased parent.

Read on AO3

Her mother is dead.

It does not rain on the day of Mama’s funeral, even though it should. The skies should break open and flood the earth. The sun should never shine again. All of nature should be consumed by darkness and despair.

Instead, it is a lovely, sunny day in early summer. Pink roses burst into life all over the castle grounds. They were her favorite flower. Mama always wanted her to get married at this time of year, when the roses bloomed.

Now, every pink rose that was in the gardens covers the casket. Even the flowers that showed only the slightest bud have been cut down before they had a chance to bloom. Some of them are already turning brown.

The roses are dying. The roses are dead. This is wrong. Mama wouldn’t want her favorite flowers to die.

She stands beside Papa at the graveside. Both of them are dressed in black. He says nothing. He does not let himself weep. He must show strength as a leader to their people. Mama is not the first casualty of what the common folk are already calling the Ogres War.

It is a small funeral, only the castle inhabitants and the villagers who live nearby. Traveling is dangerous now, and those far away cannot take the risk. King Midas should have come, or at least sent a royal envoy. The rest of Mama’s family and friends should be here. The whole kingdom--the whole world--should mourn the loss of the greatest woman of this generation.

As it is, all she has of her mother’s family is Uncle Pierre, Aunt Therese, and their children. Her cousins stand in the cemetery with the rest of the meager party. Little Claude may be too young to understand the words being said, but she knows her aunt is gone. She stays quiet and still. Jeanne cries into a handkerchief. She despairs for the future, for everyone in the land. Andre tries to be a man--he knows that he will see more dead very soon--but he cannot keep his lip from quivering. This is the first death that has come to their family. Does he know, somehow, that he and his father will be next?

Papa’s brother, Uncle Armand, keeps his head bowed. His long, curling hair falls over his face. Normally a man of laughter and warmth, he is solemn.

Ermintrude, Mama’s closest friend, is as stone-faced as Papa. It must not be decorous for a lady to weep over someone who is not a blood relative. Even if you have known her all your life and raised your children together. Even if you were the last person to see her alive. The last person to hear her screams as monsters ripped her out of your hands and left you holding nothing but a broken necklace. Ermintrude does not weep, but she holds her own daughter’s hand in a clenching grip and does not let go until long after the funeral has ended. Mathilde clings to her mother with equal desperation.

A cleric prays over Mama’s casket. She does not hear what he says. She speaks when it is time to speak, repeats the words she knows by heart. She sings the hymns and makes the signs. But it does not reach her.

They cover the casket in dirt. The pink roses will never see the sun again. Mama is dead. The world has ended.

What future is left for her now?

****

Mrs. Lacey Gold started the morning by walking away from the pawn shop and towards Marine Automotive. These red and navy mary janes were the lowest heels she had, and the sound of them was strange on the sidewalk. Mrs. Gold was used to the sharp click-clack of her stilettos, the powerful stride she made sure to use every time she went out in public, no matter how she felt in the privacy of her own skull.

But things were different now. She was different. She wasn’t just Mrs. Gold anymore. But she wasn’t Lacey French anymore either.

Truth be told, she had never thought much about being Lacey French, not the way she thought about being Mrs. Gold. She’d never trudged the halls of Storybrooke High thinking about how Lacey French would walk. She’d never pulled on an oversized tee-shirt and jeans because she thought that was the sort of thing Lacey French would wear. She had never wanted to be herself, she just was.

She wanted to be Mrs. Gold. She’d put effort into it. But now Mr. Gold didn’t seem to care. So she had to try something else. She had to try being someone else.

Why not Lacey?

Above her, Marco the handyman was hammering something into the roof of the hardware store. When she looked up at him and waved, the old man just frowned and muttered something in Italian. Maybe it was a curse. Maybe it was a sign against curses, something that protected good men from vile harlots. Either way, Mrs. Gold squared her shoulders and kept walking.

Marine Automotive was right across from the old abandoned library. Mom had always wished that the library would open up again, so she could get access to more books. At least once a day, every time she had a free minute, she would sneak off to her rocking chair by the window with some well-worn paperback. The flower shop was named after one of her favorite books.

The garage was empty when she got there, no one in the office and only one car lifted up into a bay. A young kid, Billy Citrouille, was rubbing his backside in front of a space heater. He stopped when he noticed her.

“Hey there,” he smiled. His dark eyes were warm and his white teeth shone against tan skin. “How are you today, Mrs. Gold?”

Her first instinct was to giggle. She wanted to bounce on her heels and twirl her skirt and make some stupid joke about getting her motor running. Over the years, Mrs. Gold had had a lot of fun playing with Billy. He wore loose coveralls, but she could make them feel very tight when she wanted to.

But she was trying to be better.

Lacey looked around the empty garage. “Is Manny in today?”

Billy shrugged. “Business is slow, so he went over to Game of Thorns for a bit.”

“Oh.” Her stomach sank. “Did he… say when he’d be back?”

“He’s supposed to be on a fifteen minute break, but he left an hour ago, so there’s no telling.”

“Oh,” she said again. It was suddenly very difficult to swallow. “Great.”

“Is there something I can do for you, Mrs. Gold? What’s going on with that gorgeous caddy? I’m surprised it’s giving you any trouble.”

She shook her head. “No, it’s not Mr. Gold’s car. This is just… a family thing.”

“Oh, okay,” Billy said. Then he began to nod. “Oh that’s right, you were Manny’s niece!”

“I still am,” Lacey snapped, more angry than she wanted to be. “There’s no expiration date on being someone’s family.”

At least, she hoped not.

Without saying more to Billy, she left the garage. Game of Thorns was on a dinky little side street in Old Town, only a block away from Marine Automotive. The location didn’t offer much opportunity for foot traffic, but it was the best the owners could get when they bought it. All the properties on Main Street, all the good places, were owned by Mr. Gold. Moe French took it as a point of pride that he owned the deed to his building, that he had paid off the mortgage in ten years. Owning property meant equity, it meant security, it meant being the lord of your own castle.

It meant he had something to sell to Mr. Gold when the cancer treatments had wiped out all their savings and the medical bills were still unpaid. It meant his family became tenants, renters in their own home, swallowed up in the financial ruin that came with tragedy.

When they got married, Mr. Gold had given her this building as a wedding present.

In the spring and summer the exterior of the shop hosted a riot of potted and hanging plants for sale. The front was covered in ivy, always advertising the greenery within. But on this winter afternoon, the ivy was dead. All the plants were kept inside. The store barely looked open or alive at all.

The front window display was themed for Valentine’s Day, one of the busiest days of the year. Faded red cloth provided a backdrop for limp paper hearts and plastic vases full of dusty fake roses. Of course, all the real flowers had been sold already. Cheap, plastic garlands were strewn haphazardly around the window. The whole thing looked so tawdry, so pitiful.

She tried not to think of the hours Mom had spent every holiday, planning out designs for the displays. And then the hours more they had spent together, executing her vision. “It’s more than just color, Lacey-loo. There’s texture and balance and harmony--and always some memorable details. A good display will tell a story. That’s what makes people want to stop and look. And then come in and buy.”

Dad was trying his best, she knew he was. But it wasn’t the same. Nothing could ever be the same again.

Tempting as it was to linger in front of the window reminiscing, she knew she had to go inside. Mrs. Gold tried to press her fingernails into her palms, but then remembered she was wearing gloves. Right. So she would just have to do this without any of her usual crutches.

Great.

Game of Thorns smelled damp and moldy. Most people would say it smelled like flowers, but Lacey knew the smell of floral foam and pesticides, of fertilizer chemicals and a building that had been patched up with endless haphazard DIY projects for as long as she could remember.

Refrigerated flower cases lined one wall, mostly empty. The flickering fluorescent lights provided most of the illumination in the store. There were overhead lights, but it looked like her father was keeping them off when there was no one in the store, to save on the electric bill.

Merchandise was crammed into every inch of floor space, but she knew the path by heart. The tables of gifts and knickknacks, the shelves of mugs and boxes of chocolate, the helium tank and the display of balloons--nothing had moved. Except for the accumulation of dust, nothing had changed at all.

That was Storybrooke for you.

The cash register was in the back of the store. Did the drawer still stick when it rang out, or had Dad ever fixed it? He’d been saying he would fix it for years now.

Behind the desk, someone was reading a newspaper. Lacey could tell it was a man, but the paper covered up his face. She stood in the middle of the floor--near the desk, but not close enough to touch the counter. Which one of them was behind the paper, her uncle or her father? Who was she going to see first, and how would they react to seeing her again?

She took a breath, and cleared her throat.

The paper lowered. Long, curling hair in a neat center part emerged from the other side. Then raised, dark eyebrows and wide, dark eyes. The eyes lit up. The paper was cast aside.

Uncle Manny beamed at her and stood up.

“Hey! Look who’s back!” Arms wide open, he walked around the desk to offer her a hug.

Lacey accepted his embrace and hugged him back. How long had it been since her last hug? Months or years? Uncle Manny’s coveralls smelled like metal and motor oil and aftershave. Smelling it made her feel like a kid in the best way--small and weak, but loved and valued.

She felt safe.

Dad’s younger brother had never been married and never had children. But he had been around for Lacey’s whole life--another parent in the web of family love she’d grown up with, and then been away from for so long. Uncle Manny had an open enthusiasm that Dad never bothered with. She could show him her crayon drawings or her middle school science projects and he would shower her with praise. When she became valedictorian, he’d been so proud of her he actually cried.

When the hug ended, she didn’t know what to say. Torn between saying nothing and saying everything, Lacey blurted out something completely stupid. “Your hair didn’t used to be so long.”

Uncle Manny laughed and clapped her on the back. “It was that cousin of yours, Janine. This past October she convinced me that if I let it grow out more, I wouldn’t look so much like a white man with an afro.”

Lacey let herself smile. “Well she would know. She’s the hair stylist.”

“I thought this would be better than getting it close-cropped. Curly hair is the French family trademark, you know.”

“I know.”

“Big hair and big brains, that’s us. All except for your father, but I think he’s adopted.”

Now Lacey giggled. The joke wasn’t funny, but it hadn’t been funny the first time Uncle Manny had told it to her when she was five years old. The funny part had been Lacey very carefully explaining to her uncle that Dad couldn’t be adopted, because that would mean she wasn’t really a French and that was impossible because she definitely had big hair and big brains.

Uncle Manny had been so tickled by the exchange, he had repeated it at least once a month ever since. Dad--who his entire adult life had kept his hair so short that almost no one knew it could curl--had never thought it was very funny. Which only made it better as a joke.

“It’s good to hear you laugh again,” he said. “It’s good to see you!” He held her by the arms and looked her up and down. “Yep, still pretty. You got that from Linda.”

That was a well-meaning lie. The Woolverton look was wispy blonde hair with bright blue eyes. Janine and Chloe looked like Mom in old pictures. Andrew had been the spitting image of Uncle Peter. Lacey had Mom’s eyes and Dad’s hair, but she didn’t really look like either one of them.

She changed the subject. “How have you been? I’m sorry we haven’t talked much since…” She trailed off, leaving the sentence unfinished, the past unspoken, unspeakable.

Uncle Manny kept his hand on her upper arm. He looked her in the face, his dark eyes worried and painfully sincere. “You don’t need to apologize, kiddo. Not to me. Didn’t you hear that love means never having to say you’re sorry?”

“That’s the dumbest thing I ever heard.” She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. The quote was another family joke, a line from an old movie making fun of another old movie. Lacey repeated the words she knew by heart, she let the ritual of them comfort her.

Why did it feel so strange to be here? This had been her home, this had been her family. For most of Lacey’s life, this had been her whole world. Had she really outgrown this place so much? Had she really let her marriage turn her into a different person?

Behind the thin walls, the steps up from the basement creaked and groaned under a heavy weight. She swallowed and her heart sank a little more as she automatically looked towards the door into the back room.

Moe French came up from the basement, his arms full with a plastic-lined cardboard box that overflowed with flowers. Dad had always been a big bear of a man--gruff but loving, full of ideas and hope for the future. Lacey remembered the game when he would pick her up over his head and twirl her around. Mom made up a story that Lacey was a clever warrior who refused to slay a dragon, but had tamed it instead and now she could fly on it to anywhere in the world.

Once Mom was gone, Dad had shrunk into himself, and the only thing bearish about him was his temper. A temper that Lacey had inherited and Mom wasn’t around to quell in either of them.

“Oh,” he said when he saw her. “Mrs. Gold.”

He took the time to put the box on the countertop before he turned and brushed his hands on his jeans. He crossed his arms tightly over his chest. His baseball cap was pulled low over his eyes, so his expression was unreadable.

“So, has the landlady decided it was time to start charging rent?”

She felt her expression change, felt her lips purse and her jaw clench. She felt her hackles raise, all without thinking about it.

Uncle Manny spoke up. “Moe, come on. It’s just Lacey.”

“I know who it is.” Dad didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t have to. The judgement came through better when he sounded neutral.

It really was a rare gift, the way he could mean so much while saying so little. Even now, he hadn’t said anything that wasn’t true. She was his landlady, she could start charging rent. Those were facts. But he said them like they were crimes.

And it was a neat trick, too, because he never had to defend himself. Because he had never actually said anything mean. For most of her adolescence, Lacey had known how useless it was to rant about feeling belittled or shamed or trapped. She would never have a direct quote that she could repeat to him to make him understand how much he’d hurt her.

Even now, she’d take a lifetime of Mr. Gold’s most obscene insults over hearing her father say “Fine,” with no emotion ever again.

Mrs. Gold stepped away from her uncle and faced her father. She said “Hi,” and it felt like a declaration of war.

Dad nodded. Without a word, he turned back to the box and began to pull out flowers. They were mixed roses--every color except white and red, which got their own packaging. He began to separate yellow from orange from salmon from magenta from pink.

Lacey’s heart skipped a beat at the pink roses. They were mom’s favorite. She’d always said they represented the best kind of love--sweet, gentle, light. Red roses were for the burning passion of new romance, and white roses were innocent and bridal. But pink roses were the compromise, the roses of marriage, of the simple love that warmed your heart and made every day a little brighter. A little spark of joy, those were pink roses for Mom.

And that was Mom for everyone who knew her.

She wanted me to marry in spring, when the roses bloomed.

Wordless, Lacey walked over to the counter and watched Dad sort the flowers. He placed the ends of the stems under a cutter and pulled the blade down like a lever. It looked mercenary, but it was for the flower’s own good. You had to cut off the parts that were dead so they could take in more water and stay fresher longer. It hurt, but was a part of growing--or at least staying alive in a world that wouldn’t let you grow.

After a few minutes, he stepped to the side, so there was enough room for her to stand beside him and help. If she wanted to.

That was the flip side of the way Dad said things without saying them--sometimes he could say nice things too. Sometimes it was easier for both of them not to talk. Then neither of them could say the wrong thing. She stood beside him, and began to place the sorted roses into different buckets filled with water and plant food. That way, he would have more room on the counter.

“Well, I guess I’ll get back to work,” Uncle Manny announced.

“Oh, do you have a job? I couldn’t tell,” Dad grumbled.

Lacey snorted. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the slightest grin from Dad.

Uncle Manny ignored the jab. “Lacey-girl, it was good to see you. You come and talk to me any time, okay?”

“I will.” She looked up from the flowers. “Thank you.”

“Ah, I gotta have one more hug!” Uncle Manny crossed the length of the store and wrapped his arms around her again. She felt the press of his lips on her curly French family hair. “Love you, kiddo.”

“Love you.”

“Aww, do I get a hug too?” Dad said. It would have been good-natured, if it didn’t sound so bitter.

“Brother of mine, you’ll get a sock in the jaw if you drive our girl away again. I’ll go with her this time, she’s better company than you.”

“Get outta here, you mangy grease monkey.”

Uncle Manny went back to the garage and Lacey and Dad worked together in silence. When the box was empty, Dad wiped his hands on a green rag and handed it over for her to do the same. It had been Mom’s idea for all of the shop’s towels to be green. That way they wouldn’t get mixed up with the blue and pink towels they used at home.

Lacey rubbed the rag between her finger and her thumb. The fabric was worn and scratchy, not like the big fluffy towels in Mr. Gold’s house. She kept her eyes on the ground. Dad hadn’t moved. He was waiting.

They were both waiting for the other one to speak first.

Papa, I’ve missed you.

It took her a minute, but finally she did the brave thing.

“Look,” Lacey said. “I guess I’m sorry it took me this long to come visit.”

She wanted to offer an excuse, but there was nothing she could say that wouldn’t be an outright lie. She hadn’t spoken to her father in years because she hadn’t wanted to. Because he made her angry and sad and made her remember things she’d rather forget. Because she had been too busy enjoying the better life she’d had as Mrs. Gold.

Dad looked around, trying to find something to do. He began to move the buckets of roses into the flower case. “The shop was always here,” he said, not as gruff as he could have been. “You own the place, you could have come by any time.”

“I didn’t want to bother you.” She’d taken her coat off to work, and now she clutched it over her chest. “I didn’t want to… embarrass you.”

Straightening up, Dad looked down at her. He was tall--a trait she had not inherited. His face was worn out, tired. Was he still disappointed in her?

“You didn’t have to do it, you know. Marry him. The rent wasn’t that overdue. I could have worked something out on my own.”

She’d married Mr. Gold on the day before Valentine’s Day. Two weeks after the January rent was due, one day before a huge influx of cash would be coming in for the store. If Mr. Gold had demanded that she marry him in lieu of rent, the timing could not have been more painfully tragic.

But that wasn’t what happened.

“I didn’t marry him for rent money, Dad. I married him because… because I wanted to.”

He grumbled and shook his head. Turning away, he reached into the bucket of yellow roses and counted out twelve blooms for a grab-and-go bouquet. Out of habit, Lacey went to her old place by the cash register and leaned over the counter.

More silence. It was times like these when she missed Mom the most. Mom loved words, she lived in words. She understood how to talk so people would listen, and she never said the wrong thing.

Dad counted out more bouquets, at least one for every color of roses. When he came to the bucket of pink roses, he lingered. It looked like he was trying to pick out the best ones, the largest, freshest blooms. As he had with all the others, he wrapped the bouquet in plastic and secured it with a rubber band.

But instead of placing it in the display, he set it on the counter in front of Lacey. She didn’t pick it up, but put her hand over the stems. There were thorns on these roses, but they were still so beautiful. Beauty and pain, Mom would say sometimes. No life was complete without both.

“I don’t… understand,” he said slowly. “And I don’t want to understand. Why you would… want that. Want him.” Dad shook his head. He looked like he had a bad taste in his mouth.

Lacey bit her lip. She waited for the rest of it. The condemnations, the accusations, the “we raised you betters.” She’d certainly heard enough of that once Mom got sick. Once she wasn’t everything he’d always wanted her to be.

But Dad just sighed, and put his hand over hers on the bouquet. His big hand covered half her fingers, stopping at her wedding ring. “Your mother… would want you to be happy.”

He didn’t ask if she was happy, or if Mr. Gold made her happy, or if he could help her be happy. But somehow, it was enough. Just to hear him say it. Mom would want her to be happy.

She knew what he meant.

****

It was a long walk to the cemetery. She might have asked Mr. Gold if she could borrow the Cadillac, but she didn’t feel like telling him that she was going anywhere. It was none of his business.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been here. Her feet walked like they were separate from her mind along the rows of headstones. They took her where she needed to go without her having to think about it.

Past the crosses and obelisks and statues of angels. The back of the cemetery wasn’t quite a potter’s field, but it also wasn’t as neat and well-maintained as the section by the gates. That was where the mausoleums were, the polished marble and memorial benches for people who used to be rich and influential.

Even in death, there was no equality.

Before she got where she was going, two tombstones stood out to her. Small and cheap and side by side. There were no decorations in the stone, no carved images or poems. Even adding dates would have been too expensive. All they had were words:

PETER HOWARD WOOLVERTON, BELOVED HUSBAND AND FATHER

ANDREW PETER WOOLVERTON, BELOVED SON AND BROTHER

“And uncle,” Lacey whispered as she stood by the graves. “And cousin.”

Unlike a lot of other headstones in this section, these had all the snow and moss and bird shit cleared off. There were flowers in the little vases, cloth bouquets that wouldn’t be affected by the cold. Daisies for Andrew, calla lilies for Uncle Peter.

Lacey wondered who was maintaining the graves. Even though Aunt Terri hadn’t been in the car crash, she had been all but comatose ever since it had happened. She’d withdrawn into her own sadness, leaving Janine to hold herself and Chloe together. Did Janine have time to care for the dead? Did Aunt Terri have the will for it? Or was it a family decision, an event? Maybe mourning was the only thing all of them could do together anymore.

Her family had been falling apart. They had been breaking at the seams while Mrs. Gold had strutted around like a prostitute, flaunting the money she had earned from being a fucktoy to the man who held all of Storybrooke in the palm of his hand.

Shaking her head, Lacey moved on. She wasn’t strutting now. She was hunched over in the cold, burdened by her memories. She had carried the plastic-wrapped bouquet all the way from town, through the neighborhoods and woods and into this lonely graveyard.

It was two rows up from Andrew and Uncle Peter. This was a double headstone. Her father’s name was already carved onto it, right beside her mother’s.

LINDA WOOLVERTON FRENCH

To Lacey, the grave looked like a double bed, like Mom had gone to sleep before Dad and was waiting for him to join her. Waiting for them to be together again at last.

There was already a bouquet here. Pink roses, brown and withered from at least a week’s worth of exposure to the cold. Was it wrong to leave Mom’s favorite flowers out here to die? Wouldn’t she think that was a waste?

But wasn’t death always a waste?

Crouching down, Lacey took the old bouquet and set the new one down in its place. The granite was dark and polished. She could see her own reflection in her mother’s grave.

“Mom,” Lacey whispered.

Mama.

For days now, she had been in a cycle of crying and being too worn out to cry. Ever since her fight with Mr. Gold, she’d felt like the world had ended. But the truth was that the world had ended before. The world had ended the day after she’d graduated high school, when Mom had gone to her doctor and come back with the diagnosis. Then the world ended a thousand more times: When she gave up her scholarship and her dreams of going to college, when Dad sold the store to Mr. Gold, every time there were new results from the doctor and none of them were good, every time Mom checked in to the hospital.

The time Mom didn’t check out of the hospital.

The funeral, more costs, more spending money they did have. Less than a month afterward, Andrew and Uncle Peter tried to leave Storybrooke to interview for jobs that paid double what the cannery offered. They took the widowmaker highway. It lived up to its name.

Death and debt. Over and over. The world never stopped ending.

“Mom, I’m sorry,” Lacey whispered.

In hospice, the nurses had told them that hearing was the last sense to go, that they should keep talking even if she seemed unresponsive. Mom could hear her. Mom was listening, even if she wasn’t talking.

Tears rolled down her cheeks and she didn’t stop them. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save us. I’m sorry I couldn’t stop any of it.”

She knew that it was irrational to blame herself for events that were beyond any human control. She knew Mom wouldn’t want her to think that. Mom wanted her to be happy.

“I’m sorry I only saved myself.”

That’s what it had been, to marry Mr. Gold, to do whatever he said in exchange for whatever he would give. She had been running away from her old life, the life of poverty and scraping by. She’d escaped. She’d gotten out. She’d saved herself and never looked back.

Until now.

She hugged her arms over her chest. She thought of all the hugs she’d ever had, and all the hugs she’d never have again.

“You know, I thought it would be easy. To not love someone. Because God knows if you love someone, you can lose them. It destroyed Dad. It destroyed Aunt Terri. I thought it would be easier to just not bother loving the man I married. To marry someone who would never love me. It was just a deal.” Mrs. Gold closed her eyes and shook her head. “Just a deal.”

A sob racked through her. She fell on her knees and let her tears fall onto the snow.

I love him.

“I wasn’t supposed to love him! I didn’t want to love him. I thought I was safe with just sex. I thought that was all he wanted too.”

But as soon as Mr. Gold had stopped demanding sex from her, as soon as he had started treating her with kindness--even that lukewarm politeness that she hated--then she had begun to see something real about him. Something that she just had to fall in love with.

He is so good. It’s hard to find, but it’s there. He’s so loving, Mama. He loves me so much.

Hearing those thoughts in her head, thoughts that she wanted to believe but knew were lies, just made her break down even more. Maybe she was going crazy. Maybe all these years of grief and loss and hopelessness were finally compounding on themselves to the point where she was hearing voices. What other finale could there be to this joke of a life than to end up in some kind of asylum?

The snow was seeping through her coat. She had to stand. She had to get somewhere warm. She had to start walking. She had to go home.

Or at least, back to Mr. Gold’s house.

“I miss you, Mom,” she whispered. “I wish you were here.”

I wish he could have met you.

****

She’d stopped crying by the time she got to the entrance of the cemetery. It wasn’t cold enough for her tears to freeze to her face, but her eyes were raw, and her skin was chapping in the wind. Her makeup was ruined and there was a trail of snot running down the front of her scarf. Not much she could do about it right now.

A black Mercedes-Benz was parked in front of one of the mausoleums. The car was smaller than Mr. Gold’s Cadillac, but newer and more luxurious.

She picked up her pace. The last thing she wanted was for somebody to see her like this. Especially not someone as important as--

“Mrs. Gold?”

Fuck.

No! Not Regina!

Mayor Mills came out of the mausoleum that bore her family’s name. Like Lacey, she held a bouquet of withered flowers--white chrysanthemums, it looked like.

Oh right. It was Wednesday. Every Wednesday Mayor Mills went to put flowers on her father’s grave. Everyone knew that.

How does everyone know that?

Maybe if she stayed far enough away from the Mayor, she wouldn’t notice what a state she was in. So Lacey just nodded and kept on walking.

But Mayor Mills didn’t give up. “Mrs. Gold, is that really you? I’ve never seen you so subdued.”

Run! Get away from her!

She couldn’t run. Now that the Mayor had seen her, she had to stop. She had to turn around and make polite small talk until she let her go. Before she turned around, she took a second to rearrange her scarf and put on a decent expression.

“Well, it is a cemetery,” she tried. “You’re not supposed to be happy here, right?”

“But you look downright tortured, dear.” The Mayor’s face was full of concern. “Are you alright? Do you want to talk?”

This was the second time Mayor Mills had offered support to Mrs. Gold. The first time had been when she’d seen her in the alley with Dr. Whale. Just like then, Mrs. Gold had the strangest urge to confide in the Mayor. She wanted to tell her everything, everything about Mr. Gold and their marriage and how miserable she had been for so long.

But the voice in her head had been screaming ever since Mrs. Gold turned around. Was that a sign that she was even crazier? This was an offer of help and her subconscious or whatever was reacting like the Mayor was holding a dagger to her throat.

“I--” Mrs. Gold began. But it was hard to even speak over the racket in her thoughts. “I need to go.”

“Oh, let me give you a ride back into town.”

You made me walk barefoot through the snow, you merciless bitch!

These fucking thoughts would only get worse if she got into the Mayor’s car. And she had enough of a headache as it was.

“No, thank you, Madame Mayor. I don’t want to trouble you.”

“Why, it’s no trouble at all! I’m happy to help someone in need.”

Get away from me, you monster!

“I’m sorry.” She began to back away. “Mr. Gold doesn’t like me to get in cars with anybody but him.”

The lie worked. The Mayor’s expression changed from insistent concern to sympathetic understanding.

“Well,” she said, more huskily than she had been speaking before. “You’re a good girl for doing what Mr. Gold tells you to. Will you tell him that you saw me here? Let him know I’m always around for you, whenever you need me.”

The Mayor smiled, all red lips and white teeth.

Burn in every hell, you lying, murdering--

“Yes, of course.” Mrs. Gold said loudly. She didn’t have time for the bullshit ramblings of her own head. “Have a good day, Madame Mayor.”

“And you as well, Mrs. Gold.”

#golden rings #rumbelle #rumbelle fic

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allwaswell16 · 5 years

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Favorite Larry Fics of 2019

2019 was an amazing year for Larry fan fiction! In fact, some of my all time favorite fics were published this year. This is a pretty long list, but there were so many other great fics this year! You can find everything I read and recommended this year on my fic rec masterpost here. This rec list is organized by the month the fic was published and then by word count. Happy reading!

~~*~~

January

🌟 Etched in Salt (is a cathedral of the world), @helloamhere (E, 24k, crime solving au, telepathy, telempath Louis, boundary case Harry, partners, touch deprivation, bad parenting, angst with a happy ending)

🌟 Like An Anthem In My Heart, @goodmorningtoyouuniverse / gmtyuniverse (NR, 21k, World Cup au, professional football players Louis and Harry, coming out, angst with a happy ending, mutual pining, strangers to friends to lovers)

🌟 No One But You Got Me Feeling This Way, @runaway-train-works / runaway_ train (E 3k, uni au, camboy Louis, student Harry, angst and smut, porn with plot, pining)

February

🌟 Tell Me Your Secrets, @dimpled-halo (E, 17k, enemies to friends to lovers au, phone sex operator Louis, roommates, dirty talk, phone sex, smut, humor, Chicago, fluff, movie au, For a Good Time Call au)

🌟 sunbeams, @coffeehazza / ohsailor (NR, 2k, neighbors au, meet cute, insomnia, bartender Harry, night nurse Louis, gifts)

🌟 sweet, sweet fate, @bottomlinsons (T, 1k, soulmate au, humor, soulmarks, first meeting)

March

🌟 Tied Down, @ham-palpert / hampalpert (E, 48k, crime au, criminal Louis, criminal Harry, multiple POVs, non-linear, detective Niall, detective Liam, undercover officer Zayn, drugs, prison, established relationship)

🌟 Gonna Live At Last, @larrymaybe22 (M, 42k, Potter Direction, Slytherin Harry, Slytherin Louis, angst, hurt/comfort, PTSD, post Battle of Hogwarts, Images of War, panic, grief, counseling, minor character death)

🌟 Close to Nowhere, @angelichl (E, 34k, supernatural au, psychics, paranormal investigators, clairvoyance, sexual tension, ghosts, mystery, bed sharing, angst, teasing, smut, protective Harry)

🌟 Everywhere and Nowhere, @2tiedships2 (M, 16k, a/b/o, alpha Harry, omega Louis, secret admirer au, omega Louis, courting/mating rituals, scenting, pining, heat)

April

🌟 That’s What I’m Here For, @taggiecb (E, 46k, farm au, farmer Louis, farm hand Harry, boss/employee, age gap, demisexual Louis, small town Canada, adult children, sexuality crisis, mourning, depression, soft, happy ending, silver fox Louis)

🌟 Counterbalance, @louandhazaf / YesIsAWorld (E, 44k, motorcycle racing au, racer Louis, racer Harry, ballet instructor Harry, dancer Harry, enemies to lovers, secrets, side Ziam)

🌟 fondre ton absence, @scrunchyharry (T, 41k, amnesia au, historical, WWI, first love, soldier Louis, sick Harry)

May

🌟 cut your teeth on my heart, @turnyourankle (E, 94k, bodyguard au, bodyguard Louis, suspense, kidnapping, Canada, hate to love, enemies to lovers, smut)

🌟 BLVD, @kingsofeverything (E, 12k, Myrtle Beach au, 1990s, embarrassing situations, humor, piercings, masturbation, Wanker’s Day fic, summer)

🌟 Stealing Flowers, @lululawrence (NR, 4k, strangers to lovers, meet cute, Brooklyn, subway, humor, bets, mutual pining)

🌟 Hello My Name Is Harry, @a-brighter-yellow / abrighteryellow (T, 3k, famous/not famous au, famous Harry, not famous Louis, drama teacher Louis, actor Harry, high school reunion, inspired by Chris Evans)

June

🌟 Tired, Tired Sea, @mediawhorefics (M, 113k, famous/not famous au, popstar Harry, B&B owner Louis, Scotland, recovering addict Harry, isolation, loneliness, hurt/comfort, pining, slow burn)

🌟 After Dark, After Light, @becomeawendybird / QuickedWeen (E, 71k, historical au, medieval, Scotland, Scottish Highlander, commander Louis, laird Harry, secret relationship, self discovery, sexual tension, light angst, smut, light bondage

🌟 Tied to Fate, @littlelouishiccups (E, 52k, ghost fic, haunted castle, ghost Louis, American Harry, angst with a happy ending, magic, mind reading, light d/s)

🌟 Sisterwives, @jaerie (E, 32k, a/b/o, omega Harry, omega Louis, dub con, religion, cult, polygamy, brainwashing, mpreg, mating, non con, optimistic ending, please check tags)

🌟 the sanctity of patience, @scrunchyharry (T, 22k, royal au, historical, Neuschwanstein Castle, Germany, Larry Abroad, royal Louis, King Louis, arranged marriage)

🌟 a garden in bloom, @gaycousinlarry / momentofclarity (G, 10k, bed and breakfast au, older Larry, silver fox Louis, age difference, writer Harry, bed and breakfast owner Louis, Nouis as platonic soulmates, pining, insecurities, falling in love)

🌟 it’s paradise, @polkadotlou / twoshipsdrifting (E, 9k, sequel to where the lights are beautiful, a/b/o, alpha Harry, omega Louis, established relationship, angst with a happy ending, insecurity, blocked bond, side Ziam)

July

🌟 waiting for the tides to meet, @nauticalleeds (E, 59k, soulmates au, lost soulmates, miscommunication, pining, art director Louis, photographer Harry, New York City, summer, bed sharing, road trip, smut)

🌟 With Words Unspoken, @jacaranda-bloom / jacaranda_bloom (E, 18k, set in 1979, older Larry, late 40s in age, strangers to lovers, California, fate, sexual awakening, scientist Harry, lawyer Louis, emotional journey, smut, bl)

🌟 No Bunny But You, @crinkle-eyed-boo (E, 13k, strangers to lovers, bartender Harry, artist Louis, punk Louis, flirting, humor, semi-public sex, d/s undertones)

August

🌟 some things fade (some never do), @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed / we_are_the_same (T, 25k, magic au, fantasy, magical tattoos, exes to lovers, getting back together, pining, angst with a happy ending, long distance relationship, tattoo removal)

🌟 old macdonald had a farm, @microlouis / louistomlinsons (NR, 5k, magic au, curse, canon compliant?, animals, humor)

September

🌟 Heartbeats in Time, @forreveries (NR, 6k, friends to lovers, high school, first kiss, indie music, fluff, realization of feelings)

🌟 Perceive with your mind, @rsadelle (T, 4k, uni au, neighbors, invisible Louis, cursed Louis, strangers to friends to lovers, cuddling)

October

🌟 Come In and Change My Life, @lightwoodsmagic (E, 12k, a/b/o, alpha Louis, omega Harry, mpreg, professional football player Louis, neighbors, cat, pining, fluff, smut)

🌟 the best part of me (was always you), @pinkbus1 (E, 5k, exes to lovers au, exes with benefits, angst with a happy ending, d/s undertones, pet names, writer Louis, photographer Harry, smut, bh)

November

🌟 You Were Mine, @brightlyharry (E, 20k, established relationship, troubled marriage, sad Louis, lonely Harry, social media, online friendship, masturbation, lack of communication, miscommunication, sad sex, smut, hurt/comfort, check the author’s note before reading)

🌟 We Had a Good Thing (Going), @phd-mama / phdmama (T, 4k, break up, reverse chronology, open ending, FOUR fest, based on Spaces)

December

🌟 Now That This Old World Is Ending, @thetommmo / daggerinrose (E, 49k, action/adventure au, cults, violence, brainwashing, survival, angst, smut)

🌟 I Just Want You to Stay, @sadaveniren (E, 34k, Advent fic, a/b/o, alpha Louis, omega Harry, friends to lovers, fwb, fake/pretend relationship, mutual pining, misunderstandings, kidnapping, heat, bonding, angst with a happy ending)

🌟 Give A Little Sing To The Singles, @londonfoginacup / LadyLondonderry (T, 31k, Advent fic, workplace au, coworkers, office, office party, pining, fluff, crack, humor)

🌟 The Goat Guy of Bethlehem, @lululawrence (NR, 25k, Advent fic, American au, pining, humor, fluff, college au, attempted arranged marriage but as a joke)

🌟 It’s About Time, @kingsofeverything (G, 3k, proposal fic, older Larry, friends to lovers, roommates, moving, dramatic Harry)

🌟 Thank You (To The One Who Let Him Get Away), @fallinglikethis (NR, 3k, proposal fic, soulmate au, soulmate identifying marks, first words, humor, fluff, cheating (not H&L)

#larry fan fic #larry fan fiction #fic rec #larry fic rec #fav fics of 2019

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fortysevenswrites · 3 years

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Tagged by @myletternevercame and @bottled-bliss and @heartonfirewrites and @lilmissuncreative. Thank you all!

How many works do you have on AO3?

What’s your total AO3 word count?

337,597, apparently? Somehow? Idk????

What are your top-5 fics by kudos?

Instead Of One Day Of Presents (We Have Eight Crazy Nights)

Just Fake It (And No One Will Know You’re In Over Your Head)

This Is For

Going Through The Unimaginable

There Is No Easy Way To Explain

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I absolutely do. If I don’t, it’s 100000% because life got in the way, which is rude of it.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

Oh wow, I think all of them have happy endings? I’m not really a hopeful ending type of person, like, I need the resolutions to have all been resolved.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

I think on a technicality I’d have to say Going Through The Unimaginable, purely because it takes place after TLJ? I guess? It’s still got a happy ending so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I guess you can consider the unhappy ending being the SW canon itself, but yeah…..¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Do you write crossovers?

Ask me about my Punisher/Fringe crossover, or the two Punisher/FDTD crossovers. You know, when I write them. Eventually. It’s happening.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Nope.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Not really….I have one Damerey fic where I attempted to write some smut and I don’t think it turned out half bad, but I tend to just get to hot and heavy and then fade to black. There’s one fic that I’m working on that MAY include some smut, if I can figure out how to make it happen.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Thank fuck no.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

No, but that would be kinda cool.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not technically, but @mylettercame and I are talking heavily about Camp Culebra and I’m considering it a collab because I said so.

What’s your all-time favorite ship?

I have a few, but my first and forever and ever ship will always be Kim and Tommy from Mighty Morphin Power Rangers

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Well, I want to finish ALL my WIPs, but there is a vignette-style sequel to Just Fake It that I while I do love it a lot, I need to A, actually finish Just Fake It, and B, the MCU is so different from what it was when I started dreaming it up that I just don’t know if I can wrap my head around making it happen. We’ll see.

What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue, and especially heated arguments. I once wrote an entire piece of original fiction that was based off a context-less argument between two unmanned characters.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Fight scenes.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

That’s actually a great question, because I got my start in reading fic in the Sailor Moon fandom, and there’s a LOT of that in it, which like, it totally works. I think there’s a time and a place for it, and I think that if it’s done right, it’s great. I also think that context is super important for readers who don’t speak the language to understand what’s being said without having to scroll alllllll the way to the end of the chapter.

What’s the first fandom you wrote for?

I was in Darcyland in the MCU for a loooooong time. I mean, I’m not not in it anymore, but like…that’s all I read for a good few years

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

I mean, I love all my children (okay, so there’s one that I really don’t love, not naming names). Honestly, what I love the most are my WIPs. Some of them are just SO ambitious that it’s taking a long time. Also, you know, life and building a company are all things I’m dealing with.

Tagging: anyone who sees this and wants to partake. Consider yourselves tagged!

#tag meme #fortysevens rambles

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kurtty-drabbles · 3 years

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House of M- redone (part 9)

N/A: This story is close to being wrapped and as always I will not make a sequel. I hope the ending is ok.

@tieflingteeth

@dannybagpipesarecalling @muninandhugin

The breakthrough about Lady Mastermind participating in the lastest attempts is all thanks to Mystique and a good connection with Logan- the rich playboy is living a good life but his ears still work- warrant a meeting with the Witch Queen and every single Red guard present, leastwise, all the important ones.

And sure, Kitty Pryde is present in the meeting. Once, Kitty confessed to Jubilee she would love to be in a Red guard meeting if this could mean she can be close to the famous Witch Queen. Yes, Kitty knew it was just a fan-fantasy and it wouldn´t be real.

"Why is she here?" Mystique asked solicited leering at Kitty. Her golden eyes fixed on her two children. Rogue crosses her arms and looks away, Kurt is nonchalant about the whole ordeal, while Kitty, in all her wisdom, is staring at Mystique.

Wanda is too used by the Darkholme clan to mind their shenanigans- Pietro rolls his eyes and Lorna is always amused- and one clear of her throat is enough to stop whatever was stirring in the Darkholme clan and all eyes are focused on Wanda.

(Lorna is holding the little Billy and Tommy as Wanda doesn´t trust to let them alone lately nor Lorna wants to be left out of the debate)

(Billy and Tommy are too little to know how dangerous the situation truly is. All they know is that they are here)

"Now we´re all here to discuss what to do about Lady Mastermind" her voice demands respect and all eyes are present for the famous witch queen.

Scarlet eyes stare back. Wanda is anything but powerless.

"What does she wants with Genosha?" Kitty asked too bravely and inwardly cringing as all eyes are present and facing the small figure- Kurt holds her hand unobtrusively and Kitty can feel his ungloved hand nicely- gulping loudly she carries on. "No one wakes up and decides to cause chaos and I know Magneto and Mastermind used to work together"

Kitty notices the apprehensive from the royal family and adds swiftly. "I say this thanks to the textbooks and many videos about them"

Pietro snaps at such revelation. "Wait, I thought those videos were banned"

Lorna regards Kitty cooly. The woman tries to remember how the royal children have a tumultuous past with Magneto. A young mutant may say Magneto is right, but, his kids can also say how he´s a terrible father.

It's a real tragedy for the man who is immortalized as an activist for mutants is now forever and ever denied any semblance of love by his only family.

"Not all the videos, some are still available, his fight in New York, for example, is still show by everyone in the globe. In that fight, everyone can see Mastermind and Magneto fighting with their enemies and each other" Kitty concludes her case.

Wanda studies her. Such red eyes and the woman is not above pretending her crimson eyes aren´t intimidating.

"Mastermind had a desire for Genosha, one my father never fulfill. You think his daughter carries such insult as it was direct to her?" Wanda asked and no one is sure if this is a rhetorical question or not.

Mystique is the one to interject. "It wouldn´t be the first. Many people in the past often believe to have a claim to Genosha...but, if its not about the land... then could be about " her golden eyes travel to Billy and Tommy. "your family...is very interesting to some people"

Pietro inhales starkly. "That too wouldn´t be the first time...and we´ll face them and win, again"

Lorna pipes in. "Pietro is right, it wouldn´t be the first time someone..." her green eyes land on the two little boys who are playing on their phones now. "tried to harm us...plus, Wanda is really powerful...only a fool would try to fight her"

Wanda sighs weakly. "I´m not all-powerful. I´m still human and I can still die like everyone else...That´s why I need a plan, I need to know Genosha and my family will be safe"

Kitty never saw Wanda in such a position before. Sure, when they broadcast the Witch Queen the media shows this woman who is God in a red dress. No one ever imagined or wanted to imagine she is just as human as the rest.

Rogue takes the reign of the conversation. "Kitty mentioned that fight in New York, well, I saw that fight too, and apparently Mastermind had some allies. Some died, some are still alive and this gave me a lead" Rogue has that winning smirk.

Mystique is exasparated. Are all of her children enjoying secret investigations?

"Turns out, the man had 4 marriages and had 4 daughters, one of them is in Genosha right now" Rogue is revealing as this is a story and it´s getting closer to the climax.

Kitty stares at Kurt who is too used to the level of the flare of his dear older sister.

"Her name is Pixie or how she was once called Megan Gwynn" Rogue reveals triumphantly. "A teleport and magic-user that is enrolled at Emma´s school"

Silence reigns as Rogue were expecting. "So, I took the deliberately to ask Megan to come to one of the stations and have a nice chat with Kwannon"

"Wait, if she´s a magic-user can´t she magic her way up with Kwannon?" Kurt asked in pure concern. After all, magic users are wild cards. Thankfully, Wanda doesn´t take offense in that.

Kitty can picture the scene of this young girl in the station having to deal with Kwannon. One of the best telepaths after Jean Grey. "Where is her mother? Was she in Genosha all alone?"

Is ethical to interrogate a young girl without her parents even in this situation? I think not.

"Oh, she was with relatives in Genosha, an aunt but that was fake" Rogue answers.

Wanda and Pietro don´t like where this is going.

Kitty is the one to pinder about Pixie´s safety.

After all, she could have been one of her students...

#house of M redone au #wanda maximoff #witch queen #pietro maximoff #I see Lorna as the youngester #and is cute how she thinks Wanda is that OP and can´t be defeated #kitty pryde #kurt wagner #Rogue is dramatic #kurtty yet

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meandmyechoes · 4 years

Text

Notes on Mandalorian Chapter 14

This is so much better. Exactly what a Mando episode should be. Cute moments, awesome fight scenes, cool characters you won’t even question their OP-ness. and an exact no-brainer of an episode like a children’s show you see how things will go but nothing came as a surprise except how cool the fight looks.

I love the pacing of this episode. It’s a lot tighter than last week’s. I don’t even wanna find out how the sharpshooter lady survives but I’m glad she did. This new cast is so much more delightful in terms of skill set.

I love Temura Morrison as Boba Fett. He is delightful to watch. Jango doesn’t even occur to me, he is just, Boba. The references this time does feel rewarding because it fits right with his character - he holds his father’s creed so dearly, and it is refreshing to hear their Mandalorian past validated and reviewed for a newbie like me. I hope the Fett fans are super duper happy. Through Jango and Boba’s case, the ‘Foundling’ theme is strengthened and along with faith, the criteria of ‘Mandalorian’ is clarified a little and I appreciate that.

lmao I totally saw the Razor’s Crest’s demise coming. The metal ball is again an excellent symbol for the crowd to NOT exercise reading comprehension and I honestly love that. Well, at least the tracking beacon is taken care of. Not that I cared about the ship, but it must’ve hurt for Din so I better be less mean. His failure falls right in line, we only have two episodes left, right? Time for that gut-punching finale.

But I think the level of violence Baby displayed in his prison cell this week further conflicts with Ahsoka’s reasoning NOT to train him. I already am a bit confused whether further ‘usage of the Force’ is something Grogu required at the moment. I gathered, since he had already mastered basic telekinesis at the temple, (as we all go with Ahsoka’s ‘attachment’ principle), he would more likely, need a Master-Padawan relationship. Grogu needs training to guide him away from his attachment or fear overflowing into the Force. He needs a practice, a vaccine. A form of attachment that teaches him open communication, trust & reliance, self-reflection and most importantly, when to let go. In that department, I think, a Jedi teacher, while a sure bonus, could be supplanted by a loving parent like Din. Isn’t that what all Master-Padawan essentially are?

As for the Jedi that may or may not show up, I have no idea. Nor do I want to jinx a particular character to show up or not. I also interpret RD’s words from the starwars.com interview as hers is a one-time deal, so I really hope it meant she won’t show up a second time this season. The Thrawn lead could like many said, tease the ANIMATED! Rebels sequel. The Jedi side of the saga is surely not to be expressed through this wordless child, so I’d rather they save the narrative for the appropriate occasion.

Din is so Dad this episode. The story has come to a point where he really needs to face his attachment and conclude, so, I’m looking forward to that.

Once again regarding the ‘fan film’ comment. I actually like the landscape this week. It’s a bit underwhelming for a name planet like Tython (spoiled by Mortis and Malachor the like) but at least it reminds me a bit of the domestic landscape. We have this kind of rocky mountains here. But then there’s quite a few snapshots with the stormtroopers you just, feel the Volume’s presence. Not that it looks fake, but you are very aware they are in a set lol. This is another nuance I have with live-action: rather than a complete universe all fabricated and contained on its own, you have some things, pretending what they are not. This disjointedness is not going away any time, if it’s so present in an expensive series like this.

(Because it’s not even like the Tokusatsu Giant Fight style kind of miniature usage? They were actually trying to trick you they’re really in the Rockys out there but the depth perception isn’t right and you’re slightly wheezing, but can’t tell how much Boba Fett smashing stormtroopers’ buckets is contributing.)

p.s. it went exactly like stef’s comic this morning lol

p.p.s. since they could be going back to corvus. if you-know-who show up next week someone please put me in a retirement home

#mando spoilers #star wars #I'm only writing this much because the keyboard is handy #if you-know-who show up next week someone please put me in a retirement home

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harveywritings92 · 5 years

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You save them/ They save you: Arno, Jacob, Ezio

Jacob (Disraeli's Maid! Reader): He was being chased through the streets by the police, they were very persistent and seem to multiply everytime he looked back, he cussed as more spotted him on the rooftops after accidentally knocking a tile off! he looked around frantically before spotting an open window...

he could hear the officers looking and Jacob didn't think twice he shot a line to the building and zipped over to the window he landed inside the room with a roll and hadn't even had time to catch his when he heard a gasp! The assassin whipped his head in direction and saw Y/n in her under garments getting ready for a bath! which meant he was in the Disraeli's estate!

Jacob had no time react as a pounding from frontdoor echoed throughout the house, followed by muffled yelling and thundering footsteps coming up the stairs! thinking fast Y/n started striping causing Jacob's ears to turn pink he started whispering frantically at her. "Wha... What are you doing?! Y/n,Stop!" she didn't the y/nat woman finished stripping then dunked her head into the tub making sure her hair was nice and wet before grabbing a towel wrapping around her and answering the door get as the police started beating their fist against the door demanding she open it!

Y/n complied as Jacob pressed himself against the wall out of the sight. "C-Can I help you?" Y/n stammered out there was few moments of awkward silence. "Ahem, I... I'm sorry ma'am but it seems a dangerous man was-" The police was cut off by a new voice. "What's going on here?" Mrs.Disraeli demanded then noticed her maid's state on undress."Y/n! Good heavens child, why are you answering the door in a towel?!" the older woman put herself protectively between the y/ht woman and the officers who shifted uncomfortably under the blond woman's glare.

"I-I just started my bath when I heard commotion, I thought they going to break the door.." The viscountess turned her attention back to the police. "Oh really? what's this about?" the older woman demanded as the officer stammered about a dangerous man was seen in the area, and may be hiding in the house.

"Well, I assure you there's no such man here!" the officer awkwardly sputtered seeing a black coat fluttering in the window! Y/n who was shivering at this point opened the door a little wider and showed them a black curtain in the window... the officers blanched as Mrs.Disraeli demanded them out of her house! calling them a colorful array of names as she followed them.

Y/n slammed the door feeling like she was going faint, all those men had to see her like this! Jacob grabbed her robe off a hook and draped around her shoulders pulling her close to. "Sorry love, I thought they'd give up if they lost sight of me, I didn't think they come in here." His hold tightened It was clear that he was very upset that other men had seen his girlfriends body!

Y/n face flushed as she mustered the courage to look up at him and felt a spark go off when she met his eyes, Jacob who still felt hyped up from his chase started feeling heat pumping throughout his body; and started backing Y/n against the wall and just as they were about to kiss -a knock at the door caused the couple to jump away each other. "Y/n dear, finish up before you catch your death!" Mrs.Disraeli's said from behind the door. "Yes mum." Y/n said remembering that she still needed to bathe. "Also, Mr. Frye? You're free to wait in Y/n's room for the meantime, good-day!" the couple blanched as Mrs. Disraeli's footsteps faded away...

How he saves you: Two groups Blighters had a disagreement on how to do their jobs, causing a bloody infighting brawl in the middle of the Strand! Police were trying to get things under control, but soon had pull out do to the Blighters outnumbering them.

And Y/n was trapped in the middle of it! she'd been asked to go shopping by the Disraeli's and next thing she knew bullets were flying passed her head! she hissed feeling her cheek get grazed as she duck to the ground and covered her ears praying that someone would realize she's here!

Luckily someone did, Jacob and some of his Rooks were patrolling nearby when they heard the commotion and saw the civilians fleeing, He signaled for his gang to follow him and they went to the roof to see the mess the Blighters were making of themselves!

One Rook suggested they wait this out and let the Blighters off themselves, Jacob hummed actually considering it... Until his eyes caught a familiar glow peek out from behind a damaged carriage, Jacob's heart sank into his feet when he realized Y/n was down there! He started ordering the Rooks to distract the red wearing sods as he made his way down into the war zone.

None Blighters noticed him as Rook tossed a cherry bomb causing Blighters to stop fighting each other focus on the Rooks, Y/n was still huddled behind the carriage when a pair of arms got a hold of her, causing her to struggle. "Y/n, it's me love calm down..." Jacob hissed in her ear causing to blink as she looked up to see her boyfriend staring a her concerned.

she saw his eyes flash with anger when he saw her cheek bleeding, but didn't say anything as he shot a grappling hook towards the roofs. "Hang onto me, tightly now." He said seconds before they were airborne Jacob took most of the impact as they landed unceremoniously on the roof and out of harms way.

After catching their breaths Jacob examined Y/n's cheek he sincerely hoped that was the only thing hurt as he took out a flask of whiskey and handkerchief and started cleaning the cut, the y/hc woman as soon as the whiskey soaked cloth touched her cut. "Sorry, were you hit anywhere else?" Jacob asked keeping his eyes on her. "No." the hazel eyed assassin relaxed.

Down below he heard the Blighter's fall back; they were outnumbered and too exhausted from fighting amongst themselves, and knew if The Rooks were here? that meant one or both of the Frye's weren't far behind! And they certainly didn't want to fight them right now! Smart move seeing that Jacob wants to kill them for harming his girl, He escorted Y/n home once he was sure they were gone.

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Arno: the marshals were after him he manage to hopped over a wall and hoped there was hay on the other side! there wasn't he heard a yelp and looked down and realized he was top of Y/n!? he mumbled out an apology and helped her up checking to make sure he hadn't hurt her... then he heard the marshals say they saw him go over the fence. "Desole ma belle ami, I need to leave!" He was about to to run when you grabbed his hand. "Wait, Arno! the back garden hide there." He hesitant as he could tell there was party going on "Trust me they won't even see you." Arno took her word for it and went into the back garden.

Y/n took a breath and walked to the front where she was greeted by her employers butler who seemed confused why she wasn't with the children? when the Marshals barged in demanding if they've seen a man in blue? the y/nat nanny and elderly man looked at each other bemuse then back at the soldiers.

"You're going have more descriptive." the butler stated as he led them to the back garden to reveal everyone in the party was wearing blue! "The madame likes to throw theme parties, This theme is: Lune bleue de Paris." the marshals eyes scanned the entire party, but he couldn't tell or remember what shade of blue Arno was wearing and all this blue was starting to make his eyes hurt!

He ordered search off and they left... the butler eyed Y/n suspiciously she noticed and shrugged, before returning to where she left the children who were still napping like nothing had happened. Arno showed up a few moments later and thanked her before leaving again, then she heard a commotion in garden apparently one of the guests was killed...

How he saves you: Sequel to how he fell asleep on you: He'd been looking for Y/n since he'd returned to Paris. After the council reinstated him back to his old rank for stopping the artifact from falling into Rose and Napoleon's hands, Before he left he had asked Axel keep an eye on Y/n in case someone ever found out you and him were connected and tried to harm or use her against him.

Unfortunately the Axeman had updated Arno on what happened since he left, How her employer's son had used and tossed her away the second his family found out! after that Axel lost sight of the h/c woman and hadn't been able to find a trace of her since.

Arno stomach knotted as he took this in and asked where's the last place Axel had seen her? near Arno's cafe but that was months ago! and the Frenchman started from there, it was around winter when he finally got a break he'd seen this rather feminine looking man walk around the streets at night. he asked his staff about him and was told that was fake/n they don't know much about him and hadn't bothered to ask.

Arno wasn't so sure F/n was who they appeared to be and decided to follow him one night; using eagle vision to find y/ht man's trail which led him to a icy snowed in alley, where his heart briefly stopped then sped up when he found a person curled up trying to sleep Arno quickly pulled their toque off to reveal Y/n! her light was fading fast! He held the y/ht woman's hand she was freezing!

They weren't far from the cafe, Arno scoped her into his arms and made his way back, he changed her out of her clothes and into his, and piled almost every blanket he had in his room on her, he felt himself relax as color started return to her face, she was still cold... Arno started taking his gear off and joined Y/n in his bed holding her close to him as possible and rubbing her hands. The next morning he was woken up by a shocked yelp and thud he looked over the side of his bed to find Y/n on the ground gawking at him stunned... Guess he has a lot of explaining to?

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Ezio (Set in AC:II/how he also found out you were a girl): You were both being chased by the guards in a place that didn't seem to have to many people or hiding spots to jump into, Ezio was snapping at Y/n to hurry! wondering how in the world is this pudgy man a mercenary? when the y/ht saw a small alley coming up and quickly led the assassin down it and saw a hay pile! they shoved Ezio into it, he silently cussed as there wasn't any room for Y/n who he was going to snap at 'him' to run, only for him voice to die down when he watch, Y/n quickly untuck his shirt and all that pudge had dropped out reveal it was a skirt?!

They pulled the sleeves out from under their vest slipped they're arms through then pulled their bandanna down around their neck letting their y/hl & hc flow as making sure every thing was in it's right place, Y/n fell to the ground just as the guards rounded the corner. "You woman did you see to two men head this way?" one of the guards demanded the y/hc woman nodded and pointed farther down the alley.

"Yes, they knocked me down and went that way." the guards ran into the direction she pointed in, after a few moments of silence she got off the ground and Ezio pulled himself out of the pile and gawked at you! "A woman?! you were a woman this entire time?" he bellowed surprising Y/n at his sudden anger needles to say Ezio certainly wasn't a fan of yours when you returned to Monteriggioni much to everyone's confusion.

How he saved you: a rogue mercenary working for the Templar had kidnapped Y/n! he had her captive on a boat that was set for Spain threatened to toss you overboard sink if he saw even one hood in the crowd, he made point by showing you tied up to the plank and with rocks weighed to your feet, no one went near that boat as guards tried to negotiate with the man, promising him pardons, money, women anything!

If he just let you and the crew go, yeah he had them too! They were tied up with an explosive barrel which he threat to set off if they tried anything! what he didn't take into account how much Ezio had improved in a short time, he'd already taken out the traitor's men, and freed the crew who quietly made their way off the boat until one of them accidentally stubbed his toe causing him cuss out!

The Mercenary to whirl around and look at them wildly, before cutting you loose and flee with the guards after him, Ezio wasted no time diving in after you he found and got a hold of you and used his hidden blade to cut the weights off your legs, and swam you both to the surface you both let gasps for air one breaking to the surface.

Ezio pulled you up on to the shore caught his breath and undid the rest of your restraints. " Are you okay?" he croaked swallowing as you winced nodding He hugged you tightly vowing if that traitor was still alive the guards will be the least of his worries...

#assassin's creed x reader #arno dorian #Jacob Frye #ezio auditore #arno dorian x reader #jacob frye x reader #Ezio auditore x reader

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evabellasworld · 4 years

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The Daily Life of Mayday

For @flyawaybluebirdie. This is my gift to you.

A round alarm clock rang next to him, making him cover his face with his pillow and groan in frustration. “I don’t want to go to work,” Mayday complained, tugging his blanket even closer to him. Being part of the Coruscant Guard who was assigned to the call centre on the Republic’s capital planet, the idea of dealing with madness from his callers makes him gag.

Trained as a sniper back on Kamino, he was the cream of the crop, literally. Like the rest of his brothers, Mayday has tanned skin and brown eyes, with his hair dyed blond and tied into a high ponytail. Despite that, he was given one of the worst jobs that a clone could not dream of. Dealing with idiots on comlinks.

Every single day of his life, Mayday had to deal with a huge tumour inside his head whenever someone called him. He felt like cutting the end of the line, but at the same time, he didn’t have any other choice. If he complains to his superiors, such as Admiral Tarkin, he might get assigned to the worst job in the Grand Army of the Republic, cleaning duty. That’s the last thing he wanted in his life.

But for now, he had to put on a straight face and head to work. Mayday grabbed his red-painted armour that was hanging on the side of his bunk and put it on, before wearing his helmet. He got out of his quarters and headed to the mess hall, pouring himself a cup of black caf.

Another day, another caf, he said to himself, as he sat down on his desk and opened his comlink while holding his mug when he felt a sudden pat on his pat.

“Hey Mayday,” Harley spoke, grinning at him. “I see you look sleepy, as usual.”

“Shit, Harley,” he shouted, almost spilling his caf on his armour. “Don’t scare me like that next time.”

“Oh cheer up, Mayday. You’re so uptight sometimes.”

He rolled his eyes at his sister as he focused on the computer screen in front of him. Harley and Mayday were quite close together, their friendship going back to Kamino where they were both in the same batch.

Unlike Mayday, Harley was a clone of Krystal Mereel, who had darker skin, a flat nose, and frizzy hair, which was dyed in pink and blue to match her favourite comic book character, who was a popular villain. She was cheerful and feisty, who tries her best to give positive vibes to her brother, despite not asking for one.

That doesn’t mean he hates her, though. They do love each other, but at the same, he gets annoyed by her never-ending speech about things that he doesn’t even want to hear about every second.

“Mayday,” she snapped her fingers constantly in front of his face, catching his attention. “Are you there?”

“Yes, Harley, I’m here,” he answered, deadpanned. “Also, don’t you have a job to do right now?”

“I’ll do it later,” complained Harley, sitting beside him. “Besides, life is too short to worry too much on small things, you know.”

He just sighed at her remarks. As much as she makes a good point, their superior, Commander Fox, would have a big headache dealing with a slacker like her. As Mayday scrolled through the HoloNet, he received his first call from someone. Oh my God, I wonder who’s calling right now?

“Coruscant Call Centre, how can I help you?” he replied to the call, with a fake smile plastered on his face. He prays for the call to end as soon as possible, but alas, that is only a dream that is unachievable for a clone like him.

“Hey, is this Coruscant Call Centre?” a deep, male voice asked, which made one of Mayday’s eyes twitch. No, this is the Children’s Department, thank you very much.

“Yes, sir,” he refrained himself from making a sarcastic comment in the morning. “This is the Coruscant Call Centre. How can I help you, sir?”

“Uh yeah, I think I have a situation here.”

It better be an urgent one, or I’ll kick your ass. “What kind of situation, sir?”

“Well, you see, I just returned home when I found a tooka destroying my couch.”

Harley and Mayday exchanged looks of amusement and held in their laughter. “Well, sir, that’s tookas for you. They love scratching things, especially couches.”

“Yeah, well, that’s not my tooka.”

“Well, in that case, sir, may I suggest you call animal control? I’m sure they know how to address this problem.”

“Oh, well, alright then. Thank you for your time then.”

As the line was cut off, both of them burst into laughter as Mayday filled up another cup of caf. “I must admit, that was hilarious.”

“Yeah,” Harley laughed along. “I mean, a tooka somehow ending up in your house and ruining your couch? That makes a good comedy on the NecFlic.”

“I agree with you, Har, know nowadays, it’s difficult to find good series down there, if you know what I mean.”

“That is true,” she shrugged, chewing on her toffee sweets that she stole from Thorn’s candy bowl, without anyone noticing. “Nowadays, it’s just lousy sequels for lousy movies and cancellation of actually good series.”

“Yeah, like what happened to Days Ahead? That was the best sitcom, but NecFlic decided to make the second ‘Kissing Scene’ movie instead. I mean, that movie was shitty and problematic.”

“Let’s not talk about that movie,” she scoffed. “Romantic comedy, my ass. It wasn’t even that good anyway.”

“Yeah,” he smiled, when he received another call, which made him breathe. “Coruscant Call Centre, how can I help you?”

“Hey, is this Coruscant Call Centre?” a high-pitched, male voice spoke. Mayday blinked a couple of times before he could answer his question that was asked millions of times. He was a few seconds away from tossing his comm right across his room, but that would spell decommission for him and his job.

“Yes, this is Coruscant Call Centre. How can I help you, sir?”

“Just wondering, but what do you do for a living?”

“Say that we shove people’s ass for a living,” Harley mouthed, inserting her fist inside her mug.

“Well, sir,” Mayday decided to ignore his sister’s remarks. “We’re here to answer your calls and do our best to help you out with your problems, big or small.”

She slapped her forehead and let out a groan. This is going to be the most exciting conversation I’ll ever watch outside NecFlec.

“Oh, well, I have a couple of problems that I need help addressing.”

“Okay then, sir,” Mayday took a deep breath. “What kind of problems do you have for us to solve?”

“Well, it’s about this girl I saw in school,” the recipient began his story. “Her name is Veronica, and she’s really popular in school and I think I have a humongous crush on her. How do I let her know that I love her?”

For a moment, Mayday was speechless. This man, no, not a man. He’s too young to be a man. Well, this boy dares to call up the Coruscant Call Centre, which was meant to reach out for urgent help, to ask for dating advice to woo a girl that he hardly knows? His fish clenched on his desk and the smile on his face disappeared.

He only had two hours of sleep. He just finished another round of coffee, and he needs another right now so that he can give a smack on the boy’s head. Some people just want to create chaos in the world, and this boy is the perfect epitome of the word.

“Look, kid, if you want dating advice, then go ask someone else,” Mayday scolded the boy. “This call is only meant for emergencies, okay? Good day.”

He cut the line and took off his helmet, rubbing his temple with his fingers. Harley, who was watching the entire skit, chuckled at his misfortunes. “Well, Mayday, I hate to say I told you so, but yeah, I told you so.”

“Do you ever shut up, Harley?” he replied, in a snarky manner. “Do you?”

“Admit it, Mayday,” she nudged his ribs. “You could have put down that call when you had a chance but no, you decided to go on and ended up with some stupid kid who has hormonal problems, Mayday, so yeah. You should have ignored them.”

“Whatever, Harley. It’s not like you helped me or something.”

She chuckled at his remarks. “Oh, please. I asked you to tell him that we shove people’s asses for a living but you didn’t do that.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. As I said before, you don’t help that much anyway.”

Harley tightened her lips. He knows what he’s referring to, and she had no other choice but to bring it up in their conversation between them. “Look, Mayday, if it’s about that stupid mug that you drank coffee with every day then-”

“Actually, yes, it is about that mug that you broke it.”

“Oh my gosh, vod, it was an accident. I didn’t mean to break your favourite mug.”

“Well, you did,” he turned to his computer. “And you owe me a new mug because of your carelessness.”

“Mayday, I got you a new mug two weeks ago,” Harley pointed out. “I mean, it even has your name written on it twice.”

He glanced at his mug, which says ‘Mayday, Mayday’ twice and twitched his lips. “Well, it’s a terrible mug that you got me.”

She jabbed her fingers on his forehead, prompting him to yelp dramatically. “Ouch!”

“I didn’t even hit you that hard,” Harley stuck her tongue out. “You’re such a drama king.”

“And you're the most annoying piece of shit I’ve ever encountered.”

“Why thank you, smartass.”

“You’re welcome, asshat.”

Before Harley could open her mouth, she and Mayday heard another phone call. With another sigh, he took a seat and answered the call. “Coruscant Call Centre, how can I help you?”

“My tooka is stuck on the tree,” an old lady told him. “Could you help me, please?”

He gave a glance to Harley, who bobbed her head in approval and gave a thumbs up. “In this case, I will redirect you to the fire department of Coruscant so please be-”

“Actually, sir, my grandson tried to climb the tree to grab my cat and now he’s also stuck as well.”

Both Mayday and Harley gleamed at each other before he composed himself from dying of chortling. Well, I am confident that the fire department will be entertained for the whole day.

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