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babybottlepop96 · 4 years ago

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7 minutes in heaven: NARUTO (NSFW)

A/n: basically what the title says... If you wanna see anyone specific let me know! I'll do sfw and nsfw!

Wanting: blow jobs, grinding... That's about it...

"Ino, why do we have to play this game?" You asked your best friend while looking at the party activity list and pointing to the specific game you were talking about.

"What's wrong with seven minutes in heaven?" She asked while putting her hands on her hips.

"Nothing….." you trailed off. You only had eyes for one particular goofy, knuckle headed ninja. And there was no way he was interested in you. His heat eyes belonged to Sakura, who happened to only have heart eyes for Saskue.

"Is it because you don't want to kiss anyone other than Naruto? And could also be because you would rather not take the chance to get Saskue?" The mention of your current crush and your ex boyfriend had you banging your head against the snack table the two of you were previously setting up.

"Maybe…" Ino sighed.

"Listen, it won't be that bad. If you really don't want to play you don't have too." She smiled and put a hand on your shoulder.

"Really?" You looked at her with big eyes.

"Really, besides, it'll give me a better chance at getting Sai." She sighed dreamily and you giggled. She was hopelessly in love with the clueless ninja.. it was so cute and sweet you get a cavity just looking at the way she looked at him.

"Well then, now that that's settled, we should finish setting up for the party." The two of you smiled and got back to work. A couple hours later and everything was ready. The rest of the gang started to arrive and that's when the party began. Sake was passed around and snacks were being eaten and everyone was just having a great time. Including you, taking too Kiba and Shikamaru about everything and everything. That was, until Ino made the announcement about playing seven minutes in heaven.

You sat back while everyone got into the living room and settled down. All the girls placed an object into a hat Ino had lying around and the guys picked from it. Neji and TenTen, Shikamaru and Temari, even Lee got Ino's cousin and when they exited the closet, you just knew something happened.

"Whose earring is this?" A familiar blonde ninja's voice spoke up and you, being the curious person who you are, wanted to know who he got. So when you saw that Naruto was holding up one of your earrings, you gasped and grabbed your ears. Sure enough, you were missing one. You glared at Ino who just smirked at you.

"Why, that's (y/n)'s!" She spoke and Naruto looked….. happy?

"Ino, I said I didn't want to play!" You scolded and you could've sworn Naruto's eyes got a little bit dimmer when you spoke.

"It's okay, (y/n). You don't have to, I'll just pick again." He said giving you back your earring. "But it could be fun!" He smiled and your heart melted. He really wanted to go in with you? You sighed and tried to hide the blush threatening to creep up your face.

"Fine… I guess I can play." Everyone cheered and Ino quickly shoved you two into the closet.

"H-hey, (y/n)?" Naruto's voice sounded through the darkness.

"Yeah?"

"Is…. Is it okay if I… kiss you?" He whispered directly into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

"Y-yeah." Then suddenly, you felt his soft lips gently pressed against yours. And god of the feeling of them didn't send sparks coursing through your veins. Your hands slowly made their way around his neck and his to your waist. You two pulled back for a moment, just staring at each other. Looking at each other's eyes in silent agreement. Both of you crashed your lips together in a list filled kiss, teeth and tongues colliding in a fire fueled frenzy.

Your hands snuck their way up under his shirt and his lips made their way to your neck, sucking on the spot right behind your ear. Your nails raked down his toned pecs and you heard a small growl. "(Y/n), keep that up and I may not be able to contain myself." You heard his warning, but decided to test the waters. Your nails gently made their way to his abs and fiddled with the hem of his pants.

He suddenly lifted you up and your legs Instinctively wrapped around his torso, your back now pressed against the wall. His lips found yours again as he grinded his hips against yours, small moans leaving both of your lips. "N-Naruto?"

"I've liked you for so long." He grunted as he grinded against you again. "But I've only pretended *grind* to like Sakura *grind* because I thought *grind* you didn't like me back." You moaned after each grind against your clit, the fabric shielding you both caused just that much friction.

"I… I like you too." You gasped out after he had decided to take a small nip at the base of your neck. "L-let me… nggh… let me help you out." He looked at you for a moment in confusion. You just unwrapped your legs and he set you down. Then you turned the tables and pushed him against the wall, pushing his pants down swiftly, just enough that his hard-on was freed. You quickly got on your knees and took him into your mouth, causing him to choke back a moan, a hand tangling in your hair.

Knowing you were on a time limit, you worked him as fast as you could. You could tell he was close when his hand gripped your hair in a vice grip. He then came when you suddenly deep throated him, your nose now pressed against his pelvis. His hot, thick cum was now running down your throat as you tried not to gag. When he softened, you pulled off of him and had to help him fix himself. Once he was finally out of his blissed out state, he helped fix your hair that he, unapologetically, fucked up.

The door opened just as you two were finished and Ino just gave a knowing smirk. The two of you exited the closet, going your separate ways.

"You two are boring!" Kiba shouted, completely oblivious to what actually went down.

After the party, Naruto made his way to you. "Yeah, um.. would you maybe wanna get some ramen tomorrow? Like.. a date?"

"I'd love to."

"Then I'll return the favor." He whispered into your ear, causing a shiver to run down your spine.

#naruto #naruto smut #seven minutes in heaven #smut #naruto x reader #naruto x reader smut

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theultimatefanficwriter · 5 years ago

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12 Days of Danganronpa; Day 4: Kokichi Oma

N/N=Nickname

“Kokichi! Hey, wait up!” You called to your boyfriend as you saw him walking down the school hallway towards the exit.

The Ultimate Supreme Leader turned at your voice and beamed when he saw you. “N/N!” He exclaimed, throwing his arms around you and clinging to you like a child. “Ah, it’s so good to see you! I missed you, baby!”

You giggled and returned the embrace before pulling away. “I just saw you this morning, Koki.” You reminded him.

“Nishihi, oh, I know!” He snickered, placing his arms behind his head. “I just miss you every second you aren’t with me.”

You gave him a deadpan look. “...That was cheesy as all hell.” You said. “Stick with lies, babe.” The liar smirked at that. “Anyway, I’m glad I caught you! I wanted to ask you something.”

“Of course! You can ask me anything and I’ll always give you an honest answer!” The short boy told you, flashing a childish smile.

You looked unconvinced. “Uh huh. Sure. Anyway, I was wondering what you wanted to do for Christmas! It’s coming up soon, and I was thinking we could possibly have Christmas dinner at your headquarters?”

Kokichi placed his hand over his mouth as he yawned. “Oh, this is about Christmas?” He shrugged. “I wasn’t planning on doing anything, really. I don’t care much about the holiday.”

You frowned and tilted your head. “Oh. Really? I’m actually pretty surprised by that.”

“Yeah, just don’t really care much for it.” Your boyfriend confirmed. “Besides, the whole holiday is based around telling a lie that some fat guy sneaks into our houses and gives presents to the good girls and boys.” He puffed out his cheeks. “And you know how much I hate lies!”

You decided not to get into a conversation with him. “Well, alright then. Do you still want to spend time together on that day at least?”

The boy in white shrugged again. “Possibly! We’ll have to see how I’m feeling!” He turned on his heel. “Sorry to cut this short, I hate having to stop looking at your beautiful face, but I have to get going! I have some prior engagements!” He then began skipping away before you could reply. “Goodbye, Y/N! Love you!”

He left you standing there, disappointed and confused.

~~~

A bit later, you were hanging with Kaito, Maki, Shuichi and Kaede. You had just explained to the two couples about your conversation with Kokichi.

Kaito frowned and crossed his arms. “I still don’t get what you see in that asshole.” He grumbled. “You can never tell when he’s being serious, and now he won’t even spend time with you on Christmas?!”

“He said he doesn’t celebrate it.” You reminded your friend. “I don’t want to force him to do anything for a holiday he doesn’t participate in.”

“He could still spend time with you.” Kaede pointed out. “It doesn’t have to be to celebrate Christmas. It could just be a way to have personal time with you.”

You sighed and shrugged. “Yeah, well, you know. He’s always busy with D.I.C.E..”

Kaito scoffed. “He’s been spending more time with those pranksters then his own girlfriend! What kind of jerk does that?!”

“Kaito!” Shuichi exclaimed, exasperated. He then turned to look at you. “I’m sure Kokichi is trying to figure out how to show he cares in his own way. I know he loves you, he’s just..difficult.”

“Are you sure he loves her?” Kaito mumbled, earning a glare from your other three friends. “He is a lying bastard.”

You looked down at the floor at that.

Kaede smiled softly and placed a hand on your shoulder. “Why don’t we change the subject? Have you guys seen that new horror movie?”

Maki scoffed and rolled her eyes. “No. Kaito is too easily scared.”

The astronaut quickly shook his head. “What, no! I-I’m not scared!”

“Great! Then we can go see it together?” Kaede asked with a smirk.

You laughed along with the others as Kaito tried to decline while still seeming brave. However you couldn’t stop worrying about Kokichi.

~~~

You were walking down the dorm hallway to your room after leaving Kaede’s just a few minutes ago. The entire time you were with your friends you couldn’t stop thinking about your boyfriend. You knew he was a liar, but the way he acted around you seemed genuine. But...could all that have just been a lie? Was he just...manipulating you? Was he as evil as Kaito thinks? Was he-

Your thoughts were suddenly cut off when a pair of hands covered your eyes. You started to freak out, but then you heard the telltale ‘Nishishi’ and relaxed.

“Did I scare you? You jumped almost ten feet in the air!” Your boyfriend’s voice could be heard from behind you. “Aww, I didn’t mean to do that! ...Or did I? Maybe that’s just a lie!”

You rolled your eyes, a soft grin on your face. “What do you want, Koki?” You asked, reaching up to pry Kokichi’s hands away from your eyes. You were met by a light slap on your hands.

“Hey, stop that!” The supreme leader scolded you. “I want you to be blindfolded for this!”

You raised a brow in confusion as you suddenly felt a fabric being tied around your head. “Blindfolded? Kokichi, what are you doing?”

“Nishishi. Kidnapping you, obviously!” After a moment and a slight tug from the fabric around our eyes, you felt a hand slip into yours. “Now come on! You’re loveable and sweet boyfriend/kidnapper wants to go somewhere!”

You let out a sigh and relented, allowing the small gremlin you called a boyfriend to drag you down the hallway. Any questions you asked were either met with his signature laugh or silence, so you eventually gave up and waited to arrive at your destination.

It didn’t take long to arrive...wherever you had been taken. Kokichi suddenly came to a stop, and before you could ask another question, you heard a door being opened and you were lightly pushed inside. “Don’t take the blindfold off yet!” The little shit commanded as you heard the door close behind you.

“Yes sir, whatever you say, sir.” You responded sarcastically.

This caused Kokichi to chuckle. “Hey, I kinda like the sound of that! ‘Sir.’ Hmm.” You rolled your covered eyes as you heard footsteps go from behind you to in front of you. “Alright, you can remove it now!”

“Finally.” You muttered as you all but ripped the blindfold off your head. Once your vision was freed, your eyes widened. “Wha…?”

There before you was a large, well decorated table. On it were flowers, gift wrapped boxes, and all kinds of chocolates. The surrounding area was drenched in Christmas decorations. A large tree was in the corner of the room with even more presents underneath it.As you looked you saw each member of D.I.C.E. smiling happily at you, each of them wearing either a santa, reindeer or elf hat.

“But...but you said you didn’t care about Christmas!” You stammered out, turning to look at the boy.

“That was just a lie!” He exclaimed, skipping over to you and wrapping an arm over your shoulders. “Of course I love Christmas! I celebrate it with my family every year!” The D.I.C.E. members nodded in agreement when he said this. The leader of the group smiled surprisingly softly at you. “And now, we want you to join us for our Christmas dinner! You are basically part of the family, after all! We all worked really hard to make this the best Christmas ever while also being secretive!”

You felt tears in your eyes as you looked around the room again. It was then you recognized this place. It was Kokichi’s headquarters. It was also the place you both confessed your feelings for each other. “Kokichi….this is...You really want me to be a part of...your family?”

The boy nodded excitedly. “Yup! I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather have rule by my side than you!”

You laughed softly at that before leaning over and kissing your lover. It was quick, and when you pulled away, you grabbed onto his hand. “I...I’d love to rule beside you, Kokichi.”

The boy grinned smugly. “Now I truly will become the Supreme Overlord of the world!” He laughed maniacally before suddenly pulling you towards the table. “Now come on! Open up your presents! There’s one from each of us!”

You giggled happily and nodded. “Ok, ok. Thank you, all of you.” You looked around the room at the D.I.C.E. members, then kissed Kokichi’s forehead. “I love you, Kokichi. Merry Christmas.”

Once again, lack of ideas, so this one is even shorter than the others. I’ve found out during this project that putting a deadline like this on myself makes me panic and not write as well. Whodda thunk. ANYWAY, welcome to Day 4! With 5 votes, Kokichi is finally here! Tomorrow will be a character I am lowkey afraid to write for because I don’t know his personality AT ALL. Wish me luck, and see you all tomorrow!

#kokichi oma #kokichi x reader #danganronpa #danganronpa v3 #x reader #female reader #christmas #merry christmas!#12 days of danganronpa #fanfic #fanfiction

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nautiscarader · 4 years ago

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Izuocha - fantasy

(Ao3)

- After you, my lady! - Nuh-uh, you were leading the party!

Ochaco and Izuku shared a laughter as the two opened door to their room, trying their best to not damage the outfits they were in.

Izuku, as usual, had an easier job, as he only had to be careful of his plastic sword that made turning just a little bit more problematic. Ochaco. in her pointy hat, a bag of magical supplies and a wooden staff had a few more problems navigating.

But the accessories became less problematic when the two reached the bedroom, and found each other's arms, tasting not only pumpkin juice, but also wine from each other's lips.

- I-Izuku! - Ochaco protested suddenly, after their kiss, much to his distress - Ochaco? - did I do something wrong? - You-you kissed me! - her eyes widened in surprise. - I-I didn't know you have feelings towards me...

It took him a moment to understand what was going on, and that the Halloween party's wine wasn't the reason behind her strange behaviour. She was still in character, a fire mage from the same role-playing game his character was.

And as far as their story was considered, they never shared a kiss, let alone a bed.

- Sorry, I-I couldn't stop myself... - he backed away, trying to chime in. - Well... - she shied away, mimicking his moves - Truth to be told, I-I might have a crush on you too...

Their eyes met again, and soon they were in each other's arms again, exchanging ravenous kisses, while their arms coiled around their backs.

- It-it was that dragon battle, wasn't it? - Ochaco asked - You liked how I made it ate his own firebolt...? - Very... very smart move... - Izuku answered, kissing her neck. - Don't you think I didn't notice how you look at me. - Well, I... I didn't know you were in love with me either - Izuku spoke, trying to hide the irony of his words.

Ochaco dragged her finger across his green tunic, undoing a few buttons.

- Well, now that you know... maybe we can explore it a bit?

And without waiting for his answer, she undid his leathery belt and backpack, her hands quickly getting to his baggy trousers, eager to see if his boxers matched the medieval, fantasy theme. She was not disappointed when she saw green dragons on them.

- O-Ochaco! - he suddenly hid his crotch, and an obvious bulge in his hands - I've never been with a girl... - Oh. - she giggled - Not too many of them in your village? - Not as beautiful as you...

Another kiss, and her red dress slowly slid to the ground, while the couple danced slowly towards their bed, and by the time Ochaco sat on the edge, she was only in her underwear, though those were not going to last long on her body too.

Watching his wide-eyed expression, she unhooked her bra and freed her breasts, before moving to her rather modern panties that hid her sex.

- Izuku... - she spoke in hushed voice -I have to confess too, that, uh... I have never been with a boy. I-I mean, a man!

Her face reddened, as she fumbled her words.

- I've spent all my life in the library, or testing spells, and uh, never really got to, uh socialise.

She spread her legs and dipped her fingers to part her soaking wet lips.

- So, be gentle, please.

Her lips curled just slightly, breaking her would-be-innocent smile, though he was pretty sure that the shivering of her legs was real.

He took her foot and began adoring her leg with butterfly kisses, alternating between her left and right side, slowly venturing upward. He could see the droplets on her folds shining more and more as his lips caressed her body, and her mouth spilled short, needy moans, exactly the same when they made love for the first time...

- M-May I? - he asked, as he placed one kiss on the inside of her thighs, smelling her arousal - Y-Yes! - she stuttered, without having to fake her impatience. He knew that if they weren't acting, by now her fingers would be in hi curly hair, making sure his lips drink all of her juices.

And when he placed his final kiss, she let out a howl, powered by the long warm-up that only has begun. Her hand didn't quite push him against her sex, trying to act her role, but her toying with his hair told Izuku what to do.

He took her folds between his lips and suckled on them gently, while his tongue lapped the juices her twitching sex was overflowing with.

- Ah-Ah, Izuku! Are-Are you sure you have never... Oh, my-

Ochaco moaned and threw her head into the pillow, while her boyfriend caressed her sex.

- No, I was merely an apprentice, I spend all my day woodworking! - Well, then, put those fingers to work...

Ochaco smiled and let ut a sharp gasp when he traced her folds, sliding inside her. Of course, by now she would be floating a few inches above the bed, because her sex was stimulated not only by his fingertips, but also his powers, gently flowing through ever single of her nerve endings.

But even without those powers, her body was coiling and jittery, as Izuku caressed her nether regions, keeping his left hand steady underneath her right thigh, giving her the gentlest of grips that kept her in place.

- H-Here!

With desperation in her voice, Ochaco pointed to her clit, brushing it with her fingers, knowing how much more powerful will his touch be...

- What's that? I've told you, I have never been with a girl before...

He looked up, and watched as her expression changed into an icy, piercing gaze. Unceremoniously she grabbed his smiling face and pressed him against her clit, shouting "dig in!", finally receiving what she wanted.

Her body shook with a climax, coating Izuku's face with her juices, as her hips buckled against his jaw.

- Wow, it's like a magic jewel! - he spoke, cleaning himself up a bit. - You-you can say that... - she giggled.

Izuku leaned forward and cupped her face, as his body gently pushed her into the sheets. He guided his cock and as he pressed its head against her folds, the mage underneath him gasped.

- It's-it's so big! Are you sure you didn't spill my engorgement potion all over it? - No, it's all your work...

Izuku spoke, before he realised how suave he sounded, and when he tried to correct himself, it was too late. Breaking her character, Ochaco closed her legs around his ass, dug her nails into his back and with a quick shove, let him fill her in one, quick swoop.

- I-Izuku! Make me yours, please! Sheath your sword! You-you know what to do...

And he did. He might have been a farm boy, but he could not inhibit his nature... Ochaco gasped as her man claimed her with a deep thrust she helped bring to life, followed by a few shallow thrusts in which he tried acting out his role.

- O-ochaco! You-you are so-so thi-mMM!

His words were cut off by her lips, sucking the air out of his lungs, as if his moans and cries were life-restoring juices.

Rolling his body against hers in slightly erratic manner, Izuku lost himself in her, trying to keep his urges under control - after all, by that point, sparks would be flowing around them to at least some degree, as he was making sure to please her not only with his powers, but also all the others, who lived through him...

Ochaco broke their kiss to cry his name, again and again, as she pushed his face against her breasts, eager to feel his soothing kisses against her bosom, and she received just that, while his arm sneaked underneath her arched body.

He licked the valley between her mounds, while he reached deeper inside her with each thrust, her position only helping him achieve this feat.

- O-Ochaco! I've-I've... - It's-it's okay, Izuku.. - she answered, catching breath, as her chest rose up and down - I'm under a spell...

She mewled her permission a moment before she was pushed back into the bed, with a powerful, final thrust that filled her with a thick stream of his warm, potent seed, and brought her over the edge... and into the air.

The two kissed, as their bodies shook in aftershocks of their peaks, until Izuku broke the kiss only to give her bad news.

- You lost. - Yeah, I know. You are too good...

She gently lowered their joined bodies back onto the bed, where the two lovers rested against each other, peppering their tired bodies with kiss after kiss.

- But seriously, I AM a mage, can't I do that? - she asked, reaching for a tissue box. - Not without grabbing the magic staff. - Izuku quickly added, as he rolled to her side, caressing her breasts - I-I can bring the rulebook, if you want. - Oh, i don't need to...

She got up, and floated herself around, before her fingers coiled around his cock, still oozing with seed that didn't make it to her womb.

- I've got my staff here...

And as her lips closed around him, she began working her magic...

#izuocha #lemon #smutember #day 13 #aged-up characters and all that #nautiscaraderfics

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gallifrey1sburning · 5 years ago

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They came back for another year, almost all of them. They didn’t have much choice in the matter; the classes in their seventh year had been all but useless in NEWT preparation, for those of them who had even been there. It should have been a reprieve, maybe, but it wasn’t.

They came back changed, all of them. It was impossible to ignore. It was Lavender Brown, who had an edge like a knife even without the scars across her face, nearly unrecognizable from the bubbly, smiling girl who had once called Ron “Won-Won.” It was Dean Thomas, who always needed to have his back to a wall, and who gripped his wand as though someone was about to take it from him at any moment. It was Hermione, whose dedication to her education had reached an almost manic level, studying as though she could make everything okay again through knowledge and force of will. It was the way Ron stuck to her side like glue, and the way Pansy Parkinson tried to disappear into the shadows, and the lost look that never seemed to leave Malfoy’s face. It was the hollowness at Harry’s very core; the gaping hole that told him there was no purpose left for him—that he shouldn’t have lived this long.

They had come back to school, but they weren’t children anymore. They were veterans; the shell shocked survivors of a war they could never have hoped to avoid, that they had never asked to join.

The castle was burned and broken, with whole sections of walls missing and corridors filled with rubble, but they opened it anyway, because no one really knew what else to do. Gryffindor and Ravenclaw towers were uninhabitable, so the living arrangements had to be changed, and then McGonagall informed the school governors that the Sorting Hat had rebelled and refused to sort the first years at all, and so the students all ended up living by years rather than houses.

The so-called Eighth Years ended up in a new dorm all their own that might once have been classrooms; it was oddly arranged and the common room was small with strange, narrow windows high up in the walls but they all had their own tiny bedrooms somehow so that was something. Not that they necessarily used them; Ron had levitated his mattress into Harry’s room on the first night and they had banished Harry’s bed frame, lying the mattresses side by side on the floor instead, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione slept curled together, listening to each other’s breathing to reassure themselves that they had all survived.

Mostly. But Harry tried not to think about that.

–-

Harry wasn’t surprised when he sought solitude on the Astronomy Tower one evening only to find Draco Malfoy already there, sitting on one of the wide window ledges and staring out at the grounds. There was a lit cigarette between his fingers (a Muggle one, Harry thought) but he wasn’t smoking it; it simply dangled as though he’d forgotten it was there.

Harry didn’t have the energy to find somewhere else to go to avoid the world, so he allowed himself to slide down the back wall until he was sitting on the floor. He didn’t greet Malfoy. The former Slytherin hadn’t bothered him at all this year—hadn’t interacted with much of anyone, really—so it didn’t seem to matter that he was there. His back had tensed for a moment when Harry had entered, so he knew that the other boy had noticed his presence, but neither of them seemed inclined to acknowledge one another. They just sat, silent.

After what could have been minutes or hours (time didn’t seem to matter much, these days) Malfoy spoke, without ever turning his head. He might as well have been talking to the wind. “Mother tells me I should thank you, you know. For saving my life.” He went to bring his cigarette to his mouth, only seeming to realize at the last moment that it had burned down to the stub long ago. “But I rather wish you hadn’t, you see.”

Harry didn’t respond. Something clenched in his chest, but it felt distant—the echo of an emotion. He waited to see if the other boy would go on.

“It’s going to be the start of a new era,” Malfoy eventually continued, as though this made perfect sense as a follow up to his assertion that he wished he were dead. “You and yours will raze our world to the ground and build it anew. It will likely be rather better than it was, I should think.”

He pulled an open pack of cigarettes from a pocket and freed a new one, lighting it with his wand tip. After one deep inhale, however, he showed no further interest in smoking it, instead watching the slowly growing column of ash consuming the crisp brown paper. “The world I was raised for is dead,” he stated, his voice flat. “And good riddance, I suppose, but there’s no place for me here. I was moulded to ascend in a society that burned. It might have been better if I had burned with it.”

Harry let the silence linger until he was sure that Malfoy was done before saying, “That’s rather a dramatic take on it.”

“Yes, well,” Malfoy sighed, “I’ve had a lot of practice.”

Harry let out a surprised snort. Then, without really making a decision to, he responded. “I was supposed to be a sacrifice. I was always supposed to die for the cause. I think part of me knew it even before it was spelled out for me. I don’t really know what to do with myself now. I didn’t really plan this far.”

��-

When they finally, inevitably, crashed together, Harry found that it was nothing like kissing Ginny. It was nothing like kissing. It was teeth on lips and bruising grips and nails digging into skin. It was the kinetic energy of seven years on opposite sides with no respite and no way out, culminating in a clash of body on body. Eventually, inevitably, it escalated, and it was cries that could have been pleasure or pain and stripes of come on skin and salty, tear-stained faces. It was a desperate need to feel something, anything; to prove that they were still alive. And it kept happening, and happening, and happening.

The first time Harry fucked Malfoy, the blond sobbed like he was breaking apart, and when Harry tried to stop, he grasped him with his full strength and gasped “don’t you fucking dare” through his tears.

“I’m hurting you,” Harry protested.

“I want you to,” Malfoy gritted out, and then he pulled Harry down into a kiss so hard it drew blood and Harry didn’t stop again.

Harry hated himself for it, for hurting and for being hurt, for craving it like a drug. But it lit a fire inside him and he burned. He felt with a passion he’d thought had left him when he’d died, and it didn’t matter what he felt, it only mattered that he did.

(AO3)

#drarry #drarry fanfic #drarry fanfiction #my fic #harry potter #draco malfoy #drarry angst

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carmenxjulia · 4 years ago

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Another Duane interview transcript, coming at you! This one was from a smaller Carmen Sandiego chatroom. There were several interviewers, so that’s why the name of the question asker changes. Get the details below the break! Stay tuned, more interview transcripts coming soon.

Duane Capizzi:

HI EVERYONE! I'M IN!

Sorry I'm late, I got lost on the way haha. Then got lost trying to change my PFP

Thanks for gathering! Shall we get started? Let's do some Q&A!

(as long as they are not geography questions haha)

Fuel:

What characters or plot points were cut from the final product?

Duane Capizzi:

Ooo, starting with a right hook to the jaw!

Let me think about that for a moment: I'm hesitant to give too much away because I'm really hoping we can tell more stories in this world at some point

Which is to say, we tend not to waste anything: if we don't use it when we originally planned, we usually find a way to use something later - and there's usually a "karmic" reason that we waited.

I'll also preface by saying this: I know season 3 was more of a mini-drop and some felt season 4 was rushed. But I wish EVERY season were longer. Season 1: ideally, i wanted the Pilot to be its own event and 10 more episodes after that (but we had to tell the post-Pilot story in 7. At the end of the day, that had its benefits: we got to the Shadowsan turn earlier and I think that's when a lot of viewers realized the ride they were truly in for). Season 2: we initially figured we'd need 5 episodes to have Carmen doing the ACME dance with Chief, and wound up doing it in 3 - mostly because it quickly became clear that Rio needed to be a 2 parter, and the Zack and Ivy backstory a rough 2 parter. So we squeezed 3 episodes worth of plot into 209. It was exhilarating!

So, we had hoped to have more episodes for Season 4 of course. We had a ton of ideas and had to compress things a bit. But honestly in many ways it was for the better. I know we all wanted to live in this world longer, but I think sometimes the flip side is true - when you have big ongoing storylines, it can get frustrating when some things drag out too long. But, we got all the "story" we wanted to tell in Season 4 - we just lost some "incident" if that makes sense. We would have taken longer to get there.

So, all that preface to answer the question: we wanted to do more musical numbers! We had a Bollywood dance sequence in a return to India caper with Paperstar. We wanted to do a famous Elvis suit theft in Las Vegas during an Elvis impersonator convention (Shadowsan's an early elvis guy; Brunt likes the Vegas "jumpsuit" era). We also wanted to do a thread where Gunnar gets captured by ACME so that Julia could interrogate him and he could play mind games with her a la Hannibal Lector and Clarice. CAVEAT TO ALL THIS: these were some ideas that were bouncing around, that may not have seen the light of day if we couldn't get them to work. But they were on our wish list.

re: "other stories" - I could live with these characters for another 32 episodes easily and there have of course been discussions. But alas, that is up to the powers that be. Let's keep fingers crossed - and keep the Carmen love alive online so that someone up there takes note

There is more of course, but those are some things that spring to mind.

Fuel:

Were there any scenes cut for time that were your favorite?

Duane Capizzi:

Not much springs to mind: our directors were amazing at getting everything in the scripts to fit naturally (and in fact, I was the one who was usually suggesting trims to let other things breathe, etc). We were limited to 22 minutes of episode time, NOT counting front and end credits so a little longer than the average show. We have a pretty good idea when the SCRIPT is too long, so the cutting usually happens at script stage before it gets to the board crew so that they don't waste efforts over-boarding material that won't be used.

We had hoped to build out Chase and Carmen teaming up for the first time, meeting at Carmen's hotel lobby etc for more scenes of them together; but had to reduce that to get that all to fit in the VERY packed episode 406. But again, tighter was fine considering. That's one area that leaps to mind. (note that when I say packed, I don't mean that in a bad way: we spend a lot of time pouring over details in editing to make sure everything gets its due).

If I think of anything, I'll circle back at a later point. But the simple answer is that scenes were usually trimmed or compressed at script rather than board or animatic. So nothing comes to mind. I know it's hard to believe, but "shorter is usually better."

except for my answers to fan questions of course

Fuel:

We saw that in s4 episode 6 that Julia's mother(?) is wearing a necklace remarkably similar to the one Julia wears all the time. Is this the same necklace and if so, why was it given to Julia?

Duane Capizzi:

Just when I thought I was detail oriented! Wow! You guys blow me away

I can't take credit for that: it was either the board artist or director who added that. They do slip things in! As I've said before, EVERYONE on the crew really brought their A-game and were as deep thinking and as passionate as I was/am about the show.

It's a nice detail and I would say your interpretation works!

It took me three or four reviews before noticing that the team had slipped in baby Carmen near the play set in Mom's front yard at the end of 408. When I caught it, I was like: bravo!

Fuel:

When they first met, Zack and Ivy said to Carmen that they were the only family they had, do you know what happened to the rest of Zack and Ivy's family?

Duane Capizzi:

I don't. At least, I don't yet until such a time that I might have the opportunity to explore that. It was important to their relationship with Carmen that they be orphans, so they had that common bond (aside from being "thieves who steal from bad guys" - even if it was only gonna be one time for Zack and Ivy).

I know there are writers out there who like to do entire bio's for characters up front but i'm not one of them. It could be a trap in many ways. I like to have a general idea but be open to the demands of the ongoing storyline. You discover things along the way - it's like you're taking a journey with the characters by writing them, and the longer you spend, the better you get to know them (that was not a prepared statement by the way - I just made that up but I'll have to use it again :). So in Z/I's case it wasn't important to the story or Carmen's relationship, we felt. Conversely, we STARTED with Shadowsan's family backstory with 203, but more important to me was that we use it as a platform to explain why he stays with Carmen and crew. He really has no home at that point, so it was relevant to the present ongoing story. Which is what made that especially powerful to me.

Also, there's always a push-pull between telling character back stories while balancing them with ongoing episodic plots. You have to service both. If you just tell back story, then you're writing a biography

Arden:

What was the biggest challenge when designing these characters, especially the pre-existing characters from the series in the 90's?

Duane Capizzi:

This is probably more of a question for Chromosphere, re: challenges. But from my standpoint overseeing that process, the first thing I'll say is that we weren't necessarily trying to be "true" to those characters since we reinvented nearly every one from the ground up. (with the exception of Carmen of course - her trademark red hat/coat weren't going anywhere! But mostly the update with Carmen was in the styling of her "outerwear"

ALTHOUGH: I will admit that I was pushing for Carmen to have shorter hair as Carmen. I thought it would be a cool update. Chromosphere were really passionate about giving her long full hair and I have to see that they were right. The short tomboy cut worked so well for Black Sheep anyway. We had a different hair style for each of her ages.

So about the reinventions: Gunnar is in spirit a similar character to the original (old colleague in Vile and an early mentor if I remember), but his presentation completely different. We weren't trying to be "in canon" with the original. The beauty of CSD is that every incarnation has been its own entity so that freed us to reimagine the characters. THE CLEANERS, for instance: gimme some Cleaner love! There were a pair of janitors from the original game named RICK AND NICK ICK. They were literally janitors, it was too silly for our purposes. But, it's one small step to make them "Cleaners" (in the sinister hit men sense) - and lo, our reinvention.

So to summarize the answer to your question, they weren't really challenges to me so much as FUN to creatively reinvent the original characters (many of which were from the game, so not really "characters" per se with dialogue and inner lives). Whenever we could, we tried to use character names from the originals and update their looks and personalities. Where we couldn't find an equivalent for what we needed, we created characters from whole cloth. For instance, it seemed a miss to do a heist show without a tunnel guy and a high rise climber guy. Hence, LC & ET, everyone's favorite taco truck vendors!

(yes, i've seen some short hair carmen fan art on Twitter - someone did a great one recently!)

Arden:

Are there plans to give us more of the characters in, say, novel/graphic novel form?

Duane Capizzi:

I know HMH has done a bunch and no doubt have more in works. There's currently a novelization of the Pilot with some additional material if anyone's interested. I consulted on the second one, Clue for Clue, because it falls in the timeline while Chase was still Interpol/pre-Acme so was tricky.

And depending on whether another series in this canon makes it to air, I may just approach them about writing one or two myself to get some "further adventures" our there. Anything is possible!

Arden:

If you could go back and change anything about the series, what would it be?

Duane Capizzi:

File under anecdote, but there was what I felt was an important expression on Gray that kept me awake at nights, from his graduation ceremony at Vile. When we revisited those flashbacks in the Gray arc in Season 4, I had them change his expression there (to be more evil less innocent). We had it corrected in 404 so was able to get permission to have Netflix "fix" the Pilot by adding that shot in. I am tenacious!

We really poured over everything, it's the series that I have virtually zero complaints with the end product to be honest. But the simple answer is: I would have gone back to 106 and "un-greek'd" Gray's nametag. It's sort of a rule for international that we scramble signage (which is weird for a show that takes place in many countries/languages, I know I know). It's mostly for localization/translation reasons. And I'm sure there are some countries where Gray's name might be spoken differently. But as a proper name, I think we could have made an exception and seen "Gray" on his name tag. See? Details! But that's about the worst of it

there's also like one small line from Chief in 208 where she indicates she knows Carmen is a good guy (something to that effect) which I felt was too absolute and would have tweaked the line to temper it a bit. It's tiny, but looking back it sort of bugs me and I kick myself for not catching it. But this is absolutely the series I wanted and couldn't be happier.

Carmen:

How did Carmen know she could trust Julia? As far as we know, she has not seen or heard Julia defending her, and in the Fashionista Caper, Julia even held up her gas gun to her, saying she was under arrest. Do you have any opinions on this? Was it just intuition?

Duane Capizzi:

I'm gonna go with intuition

Carmen was raised on an island with some hardened criminal types. I think she's a pretty good judge of character. Poor Julia, trying to be tough with Carmen didn't suit her.

But, great observation! I'd have to mentally step through everything to see if Carmen had any earlier indication but i think you're right there.

Yes, sometimes you just gotta follow your heart

Carmen:

Are there any characters that didn't actually interact that you think would get along well?

Duane Capizzi:

Amazing question! First, I'd have to think more about who DIDN'T meet - you're asking the hard questions haha. But "get along well" is very specific! Hmmm, care to volley anyone?

I'll also add that so many smaller moments get lost in the "binge" of it all, but I am surprised how few fans have noted the first meeting between Player and Julia. THAT was a good one IMO! Very sweet!

Before getting back to your question, I also want to add that we were originally going to find a way for Carmen to lose her earring in Stockholm so that Julia could pick it up and be communicating with Player. BUT, I cut it at treatment stage because I knew we didn't have room in that episode to service it. Circling back to questions 1 & 2, another case where it turned out better saved for later IMO (saving Player meeting Julia, not to mention the earring business in 402 with Ivy).

Oh of course, Julia and any of the other Vile members. It would have been Gunnar for my vote, as mentioned earlier. We probably would not have had Julia meet anyone else and mixed it up more. I like that Cleo sort of became J's personal nemesis.

YES, SONIA & XIFENG (and LUPE PELIGRO, if I can add). The intent was (and is, if we ever get to revisit) to see them again in Carmen's travels. We started to expand Carmen's world but when we finally learned the finite number of episodes we had to finish the story, we drilled back down into the essentials. Would love to see them some day!

I'm hesitant to share too many things I have in mind in this forum for hope that they will see the light of day one day. You know, "spoilers"

Julia:

Do you have any opinions on Zari? Just in general? Some thoughts on her backstory would be nice if possible

Duane Capizzi:

I love Zari! I really don't have any back story on her at this point. She was originally just "Agent B" but when the need arose to give story points to another agent, we chose her because she looked so awesome! And Sharon Muthu gave voice to her so wonderfully.

I love when we finally teamed her with Chase. Hopefully the anticipation was that she would give him a hard time. I love that we defied expectation (organically, of course) and had her respect him by the end of that episode (for believing that he foiled Carmen!)

Julia:

Do you have any thoughts on small facts about any character, major or minor, that you think are fun/interesting to think about, but don't necessarily add to the plot itself?

Duane Capizzi:

Bellum, like myself, likes cats. But you knew that!

I try to put everything pertinent on screen, doing double duty to service any given episode's story but also the overarching story. That "journey" thing I mentioned earlier - we had no idea Chase falling on his own car would be a thing when I first came up with it. But as other characters refer to the incident, it took on a life of its own and made the characters feel more real.

Sorta kinda related to this question and some earlier ones, I will say that I DO think there's more to learn about Shadowsan's past vis a vis Lady Dokuso: it's clear to me that they have a history together, and it's something I hope to explore someday soon (maybe in a book if not another series

Julia:

Are the Carmen Sandiego books a part of canon?

Duane Capizzi:

I only consulted on the first two or three (too busy with series!) and have not read them, so hard for me to answer in a definite way. They are definitely in the universe we've created, but not in the timeline that I know of (which would have been too hard to pull off with our script development running concurrently). But do know that the book team at HMH pays close attention to the series and world so they should be perfectly compatible. Look no further to their clever social media on the series for example.

Kenz:

We saw in season 4 that Julia and Carmen helped each other mid to long term; would there ever be a possibility that Julia would permanently or semi-permanently join team Red?

Duane Capizzi:

Of course there's a possibility. But in a sense, with ACME now finally on Carmen's side, in a sense if Carmen were back in the game Julia, Chase, Zack and Ivy would ALL be an extension of Carmen's crew. But, would J remain with ACME or literally come to Carmen's team at her HQ? As they said in an old radio show: "Only The Duane Capizzi knows ..."

Kenz:

Where do you see Carmen in her retirement (if she retires)? Do you think she would still travel the world or settle down somewhere? Similarly, do you have any thoughts on what some other characters could be doing years down the line?

Duane Capizzi:

That is a big question, and one difficult to answer without some potential future spoilers (and yes, I really want to tell more Carmen stories if you can't tell But I'll answer by giving you one "read" on our open-ended ending as seen in 408 (read no further if you haven't seen it - yeah, right haha). The ending suggests to me that Carmen settled down for a spell to forge that relationship with her mother, to make up for lost time. But, if that is indeed Carmen that we see on the rooftop, I think the ending suggests that Carmen doesn't stay still for very long. If Vile is back, there is work to be done! Carmen has a life mission - she's one determined lady.

But of course, it's deliberately ambiguous: "anyone with your heart, wisdom and courage can be Carmen Sandiego." Is it Carmen? Sonia? Someone we haven't met? I think both endings resonate: Caroline and I always said "Carmen is bigger than a person, Carmen is a movement" would be a great message to end the series on. And I think our ending resolves this chapter of Carmen's journey as a person, but also elevates her to mythic status. Which is why I love it!

And, that seems to me a pretty perfect question and answer to end our chat on. Thanks everyone! Again, I cannot tell you how moved I am to see that we have such a passionate, intelligent and talented fan base. THANK YOU.

Take care guys, thanks again for having me! 'night!

#Carmen Sandiego #CS Crew #Duane Capizzi #Interview #Transcript

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winchesterandpie · 5 years ago

Text

Not Now, Not Ever (Geralt x reader)

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x reader

Word Count: 1458

Warnings: a dash of angst, but a happy ending. TW for some abandonment issues, just in case.

A/N: So, my brain has been on an angst track lately, and I’ve been hesitant to post the fics that I’ve written because they all turned into really similar stories, but I figured I’d go ahead with this one. I still haven’t seen the witcher, so I’m really sorry if I’m totally off on Geralt’s characterization! I think I kept the reader gender neutral! Gif is not mine, nor is the Witcher! Hope you enjoy!

“What do you know about feelings, Witcher?”

I regretted the words the moment they fell from my lips, clapping my hand over my mouth as I stared in wide-eyed horror at the silver-haired man in front of me. His lack of reaction only added to my guilt.

Afraid of causing more damage with grief-cruel words, I fled the bar, fled back to the inn, back to my room. It didn’t matter that I was grieving and lost, that didn’t justify the sharp words I hadn’t meant in the slightest.

You’ve pushed too far… The dark part of my mind whispered. You’ve pushed too far and now he’ll leave… just like everyone always leaves you… you’ll be alone, just like you deserve to be.

Maybe that’s a good thing… There won’t be anybody I can hurt.

I cried then, the tears I’d been holding back all day finally freed. And they came violently, running hot rivulets down my cheeks, dropping off my chin. The sobs were no kinder. Those clawed their way up my throat, tearing at my lungs as my shoulders heaved with the force of them.

Just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, a knock sounded quietly on the door.

“Go away, Jaskier.” I tried to sound as sullen as possible. Sullen was better than broken.

Whoever was at the door definitely didn’t go away, only knocked against the wood again, so either it wasn’t Jaskier or he was ignoring my request. Either way, I was going to have to answer it. I forced a mask of composure on and wiped away the tear tracks as best as I could. Hopefully, it would be enough that they wouldn’t ask questions.

“Alright, alright, I’m coming,” I said when the knock sounded again. My legs wobbled a little beneath me as I moved across the room to the door, but they almost buckled completely when I saw that it was Geralt at my door.

“Geralt!” After my initial shock passed, I fixed my eyes on the floorboards. “You… you’re not... gone?”

“Why would I be gone?” The very notion seemed to confuse him.

“Because I said that horrible thing in the bar and… and how could you not hate me?” I didn’t dare look up now, continuing in a whisper. “I would hate me if I were you.”

“You’re not me,” was his simple reply. I almost looked at him then, but my composure was cracking, and I didn’t deserve to cry in front of the kind man who I had just stabbed emotionally where I knew it would hurt.

“O-oh.” Is that the best you can come up with? ‘Oh?’ Pathetic.

As I stood there, shame burning hotly across my cheeks, trying to find a way to excuse myself from the situation, his hand reached out to tentatively grasp my chin. Gently, he lifted my face, and as I met his honey gaze I saw nothing but worry and warmth in his eyes. There was none of the hate and the cold I’d expected.

The kindness was what broke me. The first tear leaked out on its own, and then it was like the bursting open of floodgates. I collapsed finally under the weight of everything - the grief at the loss of my parents, the shame and anger at myself for what I’d said to Geralt. It proved too much to bear. He caught me as I crumpled, strong arms pulling me into a tight embrace.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” I cried into his shirt. “I didn’t mean a word of it, I’m sorry.” I’m not sure how many times I repeated my apology, though I’m sure it was enough that he tired of hearing it.

For a long time, he said nothing, just holding me to his chest as I wept in his arms. His hand rubbing gentle circles across my back only made me sob more fiercely, and I was glad that he wasn’t speaking. I had enough guilt surging through me without kind words I didn’t deserve mixed into the fray.

It felt like ages passed that way before my tears were finally spent and I was left trembling and exhausted. And still Geralt didn’t let go. Instead, he lifted me in his arms and moved us both to sit on the bed, keeping me tucked against him.

I was afraid to move – afraid that if I did, he would come to his senses and leave. All the same, I knew that eventually the spell of this moment had to break. I sucked in a shaky breath, burning the scent and feel of Geralt into my memory. Steeling myself, I pulled back, rubbing the back of my hand across my face.

“I’ll… You can...” All hint of coherent thought fled, leaving me speechless as I stared determinedly at my knees. So much for keeping any of my dignity intact while giving him a graceful way to leave. My certainty that he would leave settled like a boulder in the pit of my stomach as I choked back a fresh sob. I made a valiant attempt to stand, to move away, to do literally anything that would make me feel less pathetic, but the instant I started to stand, the White Wolf gently pulled me back into his embrace.

“Hush now, it’s alright,” he murmured as he tucked my head under his chin.

“How can you even stand to look at me?” The question slipped out quietly, so quietly I wasn’t even sure he had heard. I wasn’t sure I wanted him to hear it.

“Pain is different for everyone. For some, like you and me, it means we try to push everyone away with words we don’t mean… We convince ourselves that we deserve to be alone.” He punctuated the words with kisses to the top of my head. “I’ve done it enough to recognize it in you now.”

“But that… that doesn’t… I still shouldn’t have said that. I’m--” I pulled away again, covering my face with my hands.

“No more apologies, dove.”

“Why not? How could I say that to you, no matter what I’m going through?”

Gentle hands circled around my wrists and tugged them away from my face before grasping my chin and starting to lift my gaze carefully to meet his.

“I don’t deserve your kindness, Geralt,” I said thickly, tearing my gaze from his once more. “I don’t deserve you.” All my life, everyone had, without fail, left eventually, and now I couldn’t believe - I didn’t dare hope - that he would stay. I suppose I thought my stubbornness a shield that would protect my heart when he left, even though bitter experience had taught me that nothing would. At best, it had kept others from seeing my pain.

“Oh, my sweetest love.” He all but whispered the words, leaning forward to press his lips to my temple tenderly. “Please don’t say that about yourself. Please don’t believe that.” His nose traced down the side of my face, peppering kisses the whole way.

“I…” I opened and closed my mouth several times, not really sure what to say. Geralt’s warm hand slid to cup my cheek, turning my head so that his forehead could rest against mine.

“I don’t care what you said, Y/N.” His eyes were as warm as molten honey as he held me transfixed by his gaze. “I am not going to leave you. Not now, not ever.”

A couple of fresh tears leaked out, swept away by the lightest brush of his thumb. Closing my eyes, I allowed myself to trust his hold at last and relaxed against him with a shuddering breath. His arm only tightened reassuringly around me.

“You might have to remind me every once in a while,” I let out a watery chuckle, relieved that I wasn’t going to lose someone else.

Geralt didn’t say anything - I figured his quota of words must’ve been filled for the day - he just held me a moment longer before helping me change for bed. The mattress dipped under his weight as he joined me, his arm quickly going around me and tugging me close to him. His free hand found mine, drawing it up to rest over his heart with his fingers intertwined with my own.

“I’ll always be here, dove. For as long as you’ll have me,” he finally said, the words filtering over my ears as I realized how tired I was.

“Guess you’re stuck with me forever,” I hummed drowsily. For the first time that day, I had hope. Hope that tomorrow would be brighter, that everything would turn out alright in the end, as long as I had Geralt at my side.

“Forever it is, then.”

Thanks for reading!!

Forever tags:

@riddikulus-obsessions @addictionmarvel @peppermint--teas @mercedesbarnes @javapeach @thophil2941btw @legolaslovely

Tag list is OPEN, just shoot me a message or an ask if you’d like to be added! (Strikethrough means tumblr wouldn’t let me tag you!)

#Geralt x reader #Geralt of Rivia x reader #Geralt x you #the witcher x reader #the witcher #reader insert #geralt x reader fluff #geralt fluff

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fromparishwithlove · 4 years ago

Text

Nothing But Handprints

[2,663 words, Destiel, mostly canon compliant]

A/N: Hey, hi, it’s midnight and I spent three days writing something and I actually finished it. It’s not that long, maybe 3,000 words but it’s something and I’m kinda proud of that. Ever since Supernatural ended I’ve found myself writing more and more. I’m actually working on a full fic and right now, it’s the most words I’ve ever written for one story, even though it just a shitty first draft. But before I publish that, I wanted to share something smaller, ease my way in so to speak. So this is a lot of Dean Winchester angst and a sort of continuous ‘Oh Shit’ moment in which he processes lots of memories and realises the impact Castiel had on his life, many of which are connected by the significance of the handprint. Ahhh the beloved handprint! Tbh I was kind of inspired by Jensen’s enthusiasm for bringing it back in 15x18 so you can thank him if you like this story. I think I’m going to eventually add this to Ao3 and it may get a sequel but for now, I hope you like it. Or at least don’t hate it.

Cas was gone.

Dean felt the loss as surely as if one of his lungs had been ripped out. Maybe it had. Maybe that’s why it was so fucking hard to breathe. And still he kept dragging in air, each breath a razor blade - Inhale. Exhale - forcing himself to endure the exquisite pain of survival.

Survival, he knew, was its own brand of suffering; barbed with regrets and heavy with the keen sting of memories.

Behind his eyelids bullets ripped through a dusty trenchcoat. A familiar voice admonished him; he was almost out of minutes. The cool press of fingertips brushed against his forehead. The silver streak of an angel blade caught the light. A fist collided with his jaw with a sickening crunch. A huff of involuntary laughter escaped from reluctant lips. Stubble scraped his cheek as he pulled the angel into a hug. Shades of blue crowded his vision - the garish blue of a crappy general store tabard, the endless blue of the morning sky as he wrestled his way out of his own grave, the untamed blue of angel grace, humming with raw energy. And best of all, the solemn blue of that unflinching gaze. There was a discarded cowboy hat on the backseat of the Impala. A game of Sorry pushed across a table and into his hands. A shitty four door saloon the colour of middle-aged misery.

And the brand of salvation burning on his skin - the Righteous Man, touched by an angel. The same handprint that now stained his jacket bloody.

As hard as he tried, all he could do was remember as shuddering breaths turned to wracking sobs.

Whatever this thing was, it had marked him. Searing it’s own handprint into the flesh of his shoulder, staking its claim.

Dean couldn’t help but feel... violated.

He looked like a walking advertisement for one of those crappy tourist spots: take nothing but photos, leave nothing but footprints but in his case it read: take nothing but liberties, leave nothing but handprints

He ran a tentative finger over the raised flesh and hissed at the contact. It felt raw, like a burn; still stinging and angry.

He glared at it, hoping the sheer force of his loathing would somehow dissolve it. But it remained, stubborn and resolute.

It looked human. That was the worst thing. To think there was something out there - something monstrous - masquerading in the body of an innocent person... And with enough power to pull him from the pit.

That thought alone was enough to chill the blood in his veins.

And what did that mean for him? He bore its signature on his skin after all. Did that mark him as it’s property?

He belonged to no man. And no monster.

He would rather spend a lifetime in Hell.

Getting up off the floor had been the hardest thing he’d ever had to do. Turning his back on the last place he’d seen Cas near impossible.

What if, by some miracle, he came back? He deserved to know Dean had waited. After all, Cas was the only one he’d ever really had any faith in.

But Dean had given up on miracles long ago.

He let his phone ring out again and again; the sound too harsh in the grief-stricken silence. What if he never answered? What if he let Sam believe he was dead? Cas too. Because in reality, he felt as good as.

When she saw the mark on his shoulder, her eyes widened a fraction, her mouth parting in what Dean recognised as wonder.

Dean Winchester is saved.

The words came back to him as she aligned her palm with the echo of Castiel’s, caressing the raised skin with a gentle touch.

Something about the contact made him feel nauseous. Even though they were pressed together, not a breath between their bodies, he felt as though she had dug her nails into an open wound. A shudder of revulsion ran down his spine. He suppressed the urge to shake her off, instead drawing her attention away with a searing kiss.

The feeling of unease was harder to dislodge.

The mark itself no longer bothered him; it had faded somewhat and by the time Pamela used it to make contact with Castiel it hadn’t so much as tingled. This sudden display of hostility triggered by Anna’s touch unnerved him.

Maybe it was because she was an angel. Maybe it could sense her power, reacting with whatever traces of energy Castiel had left behind.

Or maybe it was something subconscious in Dean; something he didn’t want to acknowledge - couldn’t acknowledge - for fear of what that might mean.

But he couldn’t outrun the truth.

He noticed how Castiel turned away when Anna leaned in to kiss him goodbye. Thought he saw a flicker of jealousy contort his features. But only for a split second.

And once again that involuntary feeling of distaste rose up inside him, rearing it’s head, demanding to be heard.

And this time he listened.

And this time he recognised the ceaseless lament of his guilt.

Every cell in his body screamed in protest as he staggered out of the bunker. Every step a monumental effort. It was as though The Empty had created a vacuum when it had taken Castiel, and now it threatened to drag him into the same darkness.

He was exhausted; more than once he had to fight the urge to lay down and never get back up. But he knew he couldn’t.

He had to get to Sam, had to confront Chuck and demand he bring Cas back. He pinned all his hopes on it. Because if Chuck - Lord God Almighty himself - couldn’t bust Cas out of The Empty, what hope did he have of doing it himself?

So he dragged himself behind the wheel of the Impala and tried to ignore how normal it felt to sit there, as if he were just heading out on another case. As if the whole world hadn’t shattered apart and been clumsily glued back together in a matter of heartbeats.

He refused to look over at the passenger seat, refused to acknowledge the empty space beside him. Castiel had occupied that space just a few hours ago.

Could that be right? Had it only been a few hours since they’d made the journey to Lebanon, their silence weighted with shared worry yet still companionable? How had he lost so much in so little time?

Castiel arrived in the nick of time.

Zachariah had been gearing up to do some serious damage. He might not have been able to kill Dean on account of his status as Michael’s Vessel but he could still make him suffer. And Dean knew he had riled him. But nothing, not even the threat of what was to come would induce him to say yes. Zachariah had simply given him an advantage, a roadmap of what not to do to. He wouldn’t end up a cold, callous, merciless soldier like his future self. He wouldn’t. He refused to believe there would ever come a day when he would willingly sacrifice his friends and family - his fellow comrades - no matter what Heaven or Hell put in front of him. He would rather die than live to see himself become so despicable.

“That’s pretty nice timing Cas.”

“We had an appointment.”

His answer was so matter of fact, so practical, that Dean couldn’t help the smile that broke over his face. It implied that Dean could’ve been minutes away from death or simply completing the crossword and Castiel still would’ve come for him at that exact moment. But there was something coy about the set of his features, something like amusement twitching at the corner of his mouth.

Dean was under no illusion that, somehow, Cas had sensed he was in danger and, despite his apparent ignorance, had slipped in and taken Dean while Zachariah’s back was turned. It was crafty, calculated, almost petty in its brilliance.

And now Castiel stood looking at him, ready to talk, to plan their next move, without even a hint of expectation in his gaze.

He didn’t boast or demand gratitude. He didn’t want Dean’s thanks; he just wanted to be included.

The realisation hit Dean all at once, Castiel’s own words coming back to him as he considered how the balance between them had shifted.

You don’t think you deserve to be saved.

But Cas had saved him. Had been trying to save him for a while now but Dean had just been too blind to see it. When he had freed him from Hell he had been following orders but now, he had simply taken it upon himself to remove Dean from trouble’s path.

Against all odds and the interests of Heaven, an angel had his back.

Dean took a step forward and, placing a hand on Castiel’s shoulder, he said, “Don’t ever change.”

What he meant to say was: Don’t ever change back. Don’t ever serve the interests of others when you know in you’re heart they’re wrong. Don’t ever become unreachable, unknowable. Don’t ever stop being the angel on my shoulder because without you, I’d die.

There was so much he had meant to say but the words died on his lips. He hoped that Cas understood just from the look in his eyes, the force in his tone, the significance of that hand on his shoulder.

Dean knew that he didn’t always tolerate human contact but Castiel didn’t shrug him off. He allowed Dean to grip his arm, the fabric of the trenchcoat screwed up under his fingers. For a minute Dean held on and when he finally drew away, he half expected to see the shape of his palm imprinted there, just as Castiel’s handprint adorned his own shoulder.

He drove on autopilot, trusting his body to react accordingly; his mind was otherwise consumed by bittersweet memories that made his throat ache and his eyes sting.

He replayed every journey they’d ever made together, nothing but open road before them and unsaid words between them.

You changed me Dean.

His tears ran hot, spilling down his cheeks and splashing into his lap.

Dean had immediately recognised the truth in Cas’ words, but they still reverberated through him like the tremors of a distant earthquake. Letting himself consider the possibility that he, an insignificant stain on the Earth’s crust, had changed Castiel, a centuries old celestial warrior, was incomprehensible.

It was like... staring into the sun.

The more he told himself not to, the more he became blinded by its glare. Dean wanted to squint whenever he looked at it, shield his eyes from its radiant sincerity.

Because he had known it this whole time. Known and never admitted it to himself.

He had witnessed firsthand Castiel’s transformation from a finely tuned, emotionless instrument to a discordant orchestra of empathy and feeling and not once had he suggested it was his own influence that had inspired such a change.

Because how could he have inspired such honesty and compassion, gentle humour and tenderness? He was stubborn and defensive, worn down by years of trauma and still so full of anger.

But he was wrong.

Of course he was wrong.

I cared about the whole world because of you.

It felt too big to accept so readily and yet... Dean remembered the first time he’d made Cas laugh, the first time he’d heard doubt creep into his voice, the first time his cheeks had flushed with embarrassment, his eyes had filled with sorrow, his shoulders had sagged with relief. He remembered it all and he remembered his own despair, his exhaustion, his cocky bravado. He had begged and reasoned and joked with reckless abandon. He had unwittingly smothered Cas with his humanity and instead of suffocating, Castiel had simply taken a deep breath, filling his lungs with every human emotion they’d ever dared to beat out of him.

His body felt beaten, his mind battered and broken.

Sam didn’t even have to ask as he forced himself out of the car to meet his younger brother’s eyes.

Understanding glimmered there. He might not know the details but Sam recognised the same heartsick anguish that gripped his own soul. The same bone-deep weariness that had settled over him ever since discovering Eileen was gone.

They had lost everything. Everyone.

Details would come later; coaxing out the truth one shot of whiskey at a time. Although, looking at the state of his brother, Sam wondered whether it wouldn’t take several bottles.

Dean took another pull on his beer.

He couldn’t understand why he’d done it. Maybe he hadn’t meant to. But sure enough it was gone. Every day the past slipped further and further away, fading as quickly as dreams but still he couldn’t help but reach for those memories.

There was barely anything left to remind him. Sam was... Well, Dean found it hard to think about Sam. And Cas... Dean hadn’t seen or heard from him in almost a year. He was starting to think Cas had removed the mark on purpose; some deluded attempt at helping Dean forget. Perhaps he thought it was a mercy.

But Dean didn’t want to forget. Not if it meant forgetting what it felt like to belong.

Once again he found himself in front of the mirror, beer on the counter, sleeve rolled up, his own hand pressed to the place where Castiel’s had once been.

He could hear Lisa moving around downstairs, glasses clinking, Ben’s laughter loud and jubilant out in the yard. He shouldn’t be here. Not again. Not today. He should be down there manning the barbecue, joking and celebrating with his family.

But he couldn’t seem to tear himself away. There was nothing to see and yet he kept on searching.

Mary had always said that angels were watching over him but his angel had abandoned him, leaving no trace behind.

Dean’s grip tightened, nails digging into his flesh. He relished the pain but it was not enough.

“You’ve got to bring him back.”

He’d ground out the words with deliberate force, still reluctant to admit Cas was gone, to admit that he alone couldn’t save him.

But Chuck had merely shrugged off their surrender. Apparently he was happy to simply watch them flounder. With no one left to fight for and no monsters left to fight, the brothers would be effectively made redundant. Just Sam and Dean and an eternity of suffering stretching out before them. How could that be the end?

In Dean’s opinion it was shitty, lazy writing. Surely Chuck would grow tired of their struggle soon enough and then what?

Stripping him of his power, his divinity, his immortality had been deeply satisfying. Dean relished the moment he turned his back on him, refusing to expend the effort it would take to kill him. That was, after all, not who he was. Not anymore.

For the first time in his life, he was going to carve his own path - without destiny or prophecy or some omniscient douchebag shoving him around on the chess board.

The thought terrified him. Did he even know how to live a life when his every movement wasn’t being dictated by someone else?

He supposed his first move would be the obvious one. But it was the only one he really wanted to make. With Jack taking on the role of God, his task of liberating Cas from The Empty seemed fractionally less intimidating. They would find a way.

Dean swore to himself that no matter how long it took, no matter the lengths he would have to go to, he would see Castiel again. And when he did, he intended to drag him out of the darkness and cover his soul with his handprints.

#deancas #Dean Winchester angst #spn #supernatural #destiel fic #am writing #a sort of prequel to a fix it fic tbh #15x18 #Castiel’s confession #destiel handprint #profound bond #Dean Winchester is bi #Dean Winchester #you changed me dean #spnfamiiy #lazarus rising #Castiel

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fallout-lou-begas · 5 years ago

Photo

Elevated Extras: Ranger Ghost Companion

You a Courier? If so, this might be your lucky day...if you don't mind walking a bit and your eyes are good.

(Original sketch by @tarberrymentats / based on the OC Companion Meme by @falloutfandomeventhub / if you borrow this concept please tag it as #fallout elevated extras)

General

Name: Ranger Ghost

Location: Mojave Outpost

How to obtain: Complete the sidequest “Keep Your Eyes on the Prize,” then begin the sidequest “Giving Up the Ghost” to get her reassigned from the Mojave Outpost. Once freed of her assignment, she can travel with the Courier to monitor Legion activity throughout the Mojave.

Companion Quest: “Giving Up the Ghost.”

Ranger Ghost, like everyone else, is sick and tired of being stuck at the Mojave Outpost. Unfortunately, orders are orders. With the courier’s help, though, she just might be able to come down from that rooftop, but dealing with NCR bureaucracy might be a worse ordeal than Legion crucifixion.

Companion Wheel

I think we should travel together. You probably can’t tell, but that’d make me very happy. Let’s get the hell out of here.

Let’s talk about your tactics. Sure. Lecture the ranger on tactics. Go ahead. / What’re you thinking?

I want you to change your combat style. (humoring) Alright. / If you insist.

Use a melee weapon. Close combat, then. / Sure. We can hold their hands and tuck them in while we’re at it. / (Wild Wasteland Enabled) Try to remember the basics of CQC.

Use a ranged weapon. (stating the obvious) It’s what I do. / You going to spot for me? / (deeply sarcastic) Aww. Finally remembered I’m a ranger?

Be passive. Sure, give peace a chance. / Don’t go pacifist on me, now.

Be aggressive: Locked and loaded. / (mocking the company line) Right, and with “extreme prejudice.”

Enough about tactics. Agreed. Anything else? / Are we good, then?

Let’s talk about how close you’re following me. Is there a problem? / What are you...implying, exactly?

Wait here. Right. Things to do, places to be? / Holding down here. / I’ll keep watch here.

Follow me. Let’s roll out. / Finally. Don’t like waiting. / Right. Skip to my fucking lou.

Stay close to me. (sternly cautious) Define “close.” / Got it, on you. / Just don’t bump my gun.

Keep your distance. Positioning, got it. / Yeah, covering you. / (facetious concern) Don’t get lost, now.

Let’s trade equipment. Don’t get fucking handsy, now. / Just don’t hog the ammo.

(Overburdened). I’m not your fucking pack brahmin. / (exasperated) I’ve only got so many pockets.

(Sneaking). Staying low. / (wryly imperative) Quiet, now.

(In Courier’s iron sights). What the fuck is wrong with you? / (slowly, emphasizing) Watch your trigger discipline. / Don’t make me take that away.

(Courier lays mine). I’ve got my eyes on that. / You’d better have a plan for that.

It’s time for us to part ways. It’s because i’m a bitch, isn’t it. / Such sweet fucking sorrow, I bet.

I’d like you to go to the Lucky 38. Hm. Sending the Ghost to the haunted house. See you there. I’ll try not to spook the Securitrons.

We can meet again at the Mojave Outpost. (sucks teeth) Guess I’ll report what I’ve got back to headquarters. Hopefully by now they’ve got someone else watching the brahmins shit full-time.

Injured: (seething) SSShhit. / Didn’t want it like this. / (with conviction) I didn’t get off that roof just to fucking bite it.

Damaged Limb: (shout of pain) Fucker clipped me! / Sure could use a fucking medic.

Regaining Consciousness: What...what the hell happened? / (trailing off) Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck...

Death: (death rattle) / (weakly) Ghosts...can die, huh...ha...

Attributes

Aggression: Aggressive.

Confidence: Brave.

Assistance: Helps friends and allies.

Karma: Neutral.

Perks

Ghost of a Chance: When Ranger Ghost is by your side, so are the odds. In addition to gaining an extra 3% chance to critically hit, any single attack that would kill you may instead leave you just barely alive and invulnerable for a brief moment..

Drops, if killed

Ranger Vest Outfit

Ranger Grey Hat

Authority Glasses

Cowboy Repeater

Combat Knife

Iguana Bits

Grognak the Barbarian

Dialogue, Quest Details, and Ending Slides:

Dialogue

Why do they call you Ghost? What, don’t I scare you? Boo? Nothing? (beat) Well, if you gotta know, it stuck pretty quick back in basic. Not like there were many other albinos in boot camp. The all-white spooky bitch who shoots better at night? Yeah, that’s a ghost, alright. Pissed me off at first, but I came around when it started giving privates the heebie-jeebies. Just a little kick, is all.

What’s an albino? Albinism is a pigment disorder. You know, the color of your skin and hair? As in I don’t have color. Pale as a sheet.

[Medicine 35] A sharpshooter with albinism? Isn’t your vision affected? Done your homework, huh? Well, these big, bad sunglasses aren’t just for intimidation, doc. They only come off when I sleep. Sucks enough being photosensitive in the goddamn desert, but like I said. I’m a lot better at night.

What’s your real name? (the thousandth time she’s answered this exact question) If I told you that, I’d have to kill you.

Aw, come on. Curiosity killed the courier. Don’t push it.

[Speech 40] I’m just trying to understand my partner better. Then “understand” that I don’t owe you shit except loyalty. Just call me Ghost, and you’ll get that.

[Cherchez La Femme] Surely you’ve got a name to match that lovely personality. (flustered) Are you d-...I-...Yeah, I do.But you can just keep calling me Ghost. (quietly) For...for now.

What’s the deal with Ranger Jackson? Man hasn’t got a thought in his fucking head...which is why he’s such a good C.O., from the top down. He’s a nice enough guy on a good day. He’s...principled, for sure. But the man wouldn’t budge on an order from brass if it’d save his life. Stranded caravaneers get so bored and restless because of the impasse he’s overseeing that he’s started (excessive emphasis) “hiring” the rowdier ones for odd jobs off the grounds, which is why we’ve been “losing” supplies for a while. Gets shit done, I guess, but wish he’d show half that drive when bitching to HQ, but no. They tell him to sit tight, he says yes sir, and then he takes it out on us when we get frustrated at the frustrating bullshit.

Do you know Major Knight? (standoffish) Yeah. Good guy. Known him a while. Hell, he’s been at M.O. longer than I have.

What does he do? Repairs, mostly. With all the caravans backed up, we sort of have a monopoly on maintenance and upkeep. And believe me, he does damn fine work.

[Confirmed Bachelor] Is he...you know…? Is he...oh. Between you and me? Yeah. He and I are...alike. I mean, I’m the bitch everybody hates, so I don’t really give a shit, but beneath that…(thinking how best to describe him, ribbing him a bit)...accountant exterior of his, he’s really the soft, sensitive type. Needs someone to talk to sometimes. I’m that someone, sometimes, but if you get the chance...it’d do him good just to know he’s not that alone out here.

How can I best use your skills? Hard to find a way that’d be worse than all the wasted time at M.O., but I’ll make it easy for you: give me a target and let me shoot it. If it’s too close to shoot, I’m trained in hand-to-hand, and if it’s too far to shoot, it’ll never see me coming. Standard repertoire for a ranger.

What’s your opinion on the NCR? High enough to keep me enlisted, low enough to where I’ve got plenty to mock. We’re a good country, a damn good country. We’re the only real country actually left in the West. We’d be the best thing to ever crawl out of the bombed-out ruins of this war if it weren’t for all the bureaucratic bullshit, and the brass getting duller the higher you go. It’s all just song and dance and sloganeering to them out here. Whatever looks good on paper. They don’t give a shit what really happens to people out here, and if Caesar doesn’t kill us, that might. At least on the inside.

What’s it like being a ranger? Ranger training is the best, most brutal gauntlet this side of the Colorado. Hours and hours of days and days spent shooting, drilling, fighting, bringing the body to its breaking points, pouring blood and sweat just to get an inch past the wide-eye hopefuls who were always going to just wash out...and all of it just to stand on a fucking rooftop staring at ants and malnourished raiders on the interstate. I swear, if you gave headquarters a golden egg, they’d fucking cook it.

Were you at the battle of Hoover Dam? Was going to be, but believe it or not, I sat out sick. Got the fucking flu right before and was stuck at McCarran the whole time, half-lucid. Let me tell you, the whole tent of coughs and sneezes crowding around that radio, listening to the reports...when Hanlon ordered that retreat out of Boulder City, we were grabbing our rifles and getting ready to march out on foot, even if we could barely stand. We thought that was it. Of course, it wasn’t, and we cheered so loud when they radioed about the explosion that I hope Caesar damn well heard it.

Do you wish that you had been there? Of course I do. If I miss the next one because I’m stuck at the Outpost or some shit, I’m deserting with a dozen fed-up caravaneers to flank his fucking fort myself, if only for some goddamn excitement.

How do you feel about the Legion? Love ‘em. Joined the NCR because I just wanted to meet them that bad. Their new Legate’s such a heartthrob, I hear.

You’re not serious. (sucks teeth, deep sigh) Look. You saw Nipton. It was just a taste of what they do. I��ve seen good men die on crosses, and that’s a mercy compared to the good women. I hear when women sign up now, they get about five extra “are you sures?” from recruiters. Not officially, of course. Brass would never let people back home know how bad it is. But it’s just another thing that makes me glad I’m a sniper, sometimes. Engage at range. Out of reach.

What about Legion society? Do you know anything about life across the river? There’s nothing across that river. Nothing. (beat, pondering) Do you remember the Enclave War? Bitter, bloody, big explosion at Navarro? And the Brotherhood campaign out here? Even worse of a shitshow, but still, we won that out, too. But the Enclave and the Brotherhood at least stood for something. They were societies, or at least promises of one, and if things had shaken out the other way for the NCR at least something would still be standing here. The Legion isn’t like that. They aren’t “something.” They’re one big razor across Arizona, shaving everything down. And if we don’t stop them here, we never will.

What about their Legate? (with contempt) Lanius, “The Monster of the East.” Caesar must’ve plucked him out of hell or something after his first legate blew it at Hoover Dam. Word from recon is that the only reason we’re all still twiddling our thumbs there is that he’s out making friends for Caesar someplace, and he’ll be bringing them all back for a whole ‘nother goddamn jamboree soon. (tension broken by a funny thought; spoken dryly) Or should I say a Damboree. Since it’d be at the Dam.

Do you know anything about Mr. House? No. Closest I’ve ever been to the Strip has been McCarran, where I was too proud to get wasted on expensive booze in the casinos. As punishment, I got stuck with nothing to do but get shitfaced on cheap booze at the outpost. All I know is Mr. House runs the whole Strip himself, and there’s one casino, the Lucky 36 or something, that’s supposed to be all his. No one’s allowed in, no one’s ever come out. Frankly? Just strikes me as fucking weird.

Companion Quest: Giving Up the Ghost

After completing the sidequest “Eyes On the Prize” (in which the Courier checks Nipton for survivors), Ghost will remark that the Mojave’s going to hell, and all she can do is sit and watch. The Courier will reply that she ought to stop watching and travel with them, to which she’ll respond that her orders are absolute—but if the courier can change her orders somehow, she’d be indebted. The quest then begins.

= = = Stage 1: Deal with Jackson = = =

First, the Courier must speak to Ranger Jackson and convince him to consider Ghost’s reassignment. They can do this through the following dialogue options:

[Speech 80] This outpost is just waiting to be overrun by Legion. You’ll be the next Nipton unless you’re proactive.

[Speech 55; completed “Can’t You Find It In Your Heart” beforehand] Maybe I could tell your superiors about where I “found” these “lost” supplies, then.

[Barter 80] Ghost is an exceptional asset to the rangers. Stationing her here is a waste of valuable NCR resources.

[NCR Fame] There’s work to be done for the NCR out there, and Ghost is who I trust to do it with me.

[Black Widow] I’ve ways of making men come around...especially handsome men in uniform. (The Courier must then sleep with Ranger Jackson)

Note that the Courier can not simply complete the quest “Can’t You Find It In Your Heart?” as a favor to Jackson for Ghost’s reassignment. While he’ll let a caravaneer go, it’ll take more than clearing some ants from the road to get him to compromise his standing force and let go of a ranger.

Alternatively, Jackson’s death will advance the quest.

Kill Jackson. Similar to Cass’ companion quest, Jackson can simply be killed. However, Ghost is far less sympathetic to this course of action and will confront the Courier over the murder. If Jackson is simply killed, the Courier will either need a convincing alibi [Speech 90] to argue that they weren’t responsible or admit to the murder. If the Courier fails the Speech check or admits to the murder, Ghost will turn hostile (“Maybe you didn’t fucking think this through, but do you know what we call someone who kills an NCR ranger? An enemy of the NCR rangers. Now, eat shit.”). Alternatively, the Courier can intimidate Ghost into silence with a [Terrifying Presence] option, after which a shaken but seething Ghost will simply ask the Courier to leave the outpost and never come back. Passing the Speech check is the way to not fail the quest from this option.

Kill Jackson and frame Cass. If the Courier kills Jackson themself, attempting to loot Jackson’s body will trigger a message suggesting that they could frame Cass for the murder by splashing whiskey on the body (so long as Cass is not currently the player’s companion and is currently at the Mojave Outpost, not the Lucky 38). By adding a whiskey bottle to Jackson’s body without themself or the body being discovered in the meantime, they can successfully implicate Cass for the murder, and explain as much to Ghost. She’ll buy it, since Cass was one of the most frustrated residents of the outpost and was drunk almost all the time. Cass will then disappear from the game, and if Lacey, Major Knight, or Ghost (if the Courier left the outpost before speaking to her again) are asked, they will explain that Cass was arrested by the NCR.

Have someone else kill Jackson. A desperate, fed-up caravaneer named Paul by the brahmin pens is willing to kill Jackson for 5,500 caps. This price can be negotiated down to 4,000 with a [Barter 60] check, and 3,500 with [Barter 75]. At midnight that night, Paul will attempt to sneakily kill Jackson. Alternatively, Paul can be incensed into attacking Jackson immediately and for free with a [Hot Blooded] trait check. In either case, though, there is no guarantee that Paul will succeed, and if Paul is killed then the Courier must advance the quest another way (though they can loot their spent caps from Paul’s body). When spoken to afterwards, Ghost will remark that she saw the Courier speaking to Paul and ask if they had anything to do with it. By passing a [Speech 50] check, the Courier can convincingly lie that they were trying to talk him out of it. With either the [Black Widow] or [Cherchez la Femme] perks, the Courier can lie and say that Paul very foolishly did it to try to impress them. With [Low Intelligence] the Courier can earnestly say that they thought “taking care” of Jackson meant doing something nice for him.

Somehow allow Jackson to die. If Jackson just somehow dies in an unaccounted way, such as from a spawned-in deathclaw eviscerating him in his own office, Ghost will remark on the strangeness of the situation but won’t blame the Courier. This is a failsafe option to prevent quest breakage.

= = = Stage 2: Find a Replacement = = =

If Jackson is alive, he’ll agree with the Courier that he ought to let Ghost go, but he’s still under orders to maintain a standing force at Mojave—a standing force which includes a highly trained sniper. If Jackson has been killed, Ghost will mention that Major Knight is next in command and would be glad to give her clearance, but that he won’t be able to do so without a replacement sniper, either. Either way, the Courier is tasked with finding a suitable replacement. The Courier can ask her for advice:

Who should I look for to be your replacement? They have to be NCR, obviously. Ex-NCR might work, too, so long as they’re in good standing. Any Dick or Jane off the road is a no-go, since brass put the kibosh on officially contracting mercenaries. Oh, and anyone you get would have to be well-trained. Not necessarily a ranger, but good enough to replace one, even for a sit-on-the-shitter job like this. Only the best and brightest get to stare at this fucking road all day, apparently.

Where should I look for your replacement? If you checked out some of the ranger stations around the Mojave, they might be able to move some people around. Hell, take it all the way to McCarran if you want, or with Hanlon. If you’re going to give them shit on my behalf, by all means, go nuts. A lot of higher-ups can be greased with enough favors, anyway. Whoever you get just needs the right credentials. Legion attacks get dragged asses and twiddled thumbs, sure, but bad paperwork would set a goddamn fire at headquarters.

The following characters can be recruited as the Mojave Outpost’s new watch:

A generic ranger. By speaking to the commanding officers of at least three of the NCR ranger camps across the Mojave with sufficient [NCR Fame], the Courier can speak to Chief Hanlon to arrange for Ghost’s replacement with a generic ranger. This option is impossible if “Return to Sender” has already been completed.

Craig Boone. If the Courier has completed “I Forgot to Remember to Forget” in a way that makes Boone repentant over his past, he can be persuaded to take over Ghost’s position as a good way to put his skills to use. Otherwise, he will refuse, either preferring to stay in Novac where he lived with Carla or not wanting to be stuck as a watchman again when he could be out killing Legionnaires. If selected, Boone’s home marker will change from Novac to the Mojave Outpost.

Manny Vargas. Novac’s other sniper can be convinced to take up Ghost’s post, but only if the Courier has completed “One For My Baby,” “Come Fly With Me,” and eradicated the Legion presence from Nelson. Once convinced that Novac seems safe, for now, he’ll be willing to reenlist if paid a generous salary. The Courier can either pay Manny 5,000 caps to reenlist now, pass a [Barter 65] check to explain that it’s a provisional reenlistment and reduce their bribe to 3,000, or if the Courier has already passed the [Confirmed Bachelor] check in dialogue with Knight, they can tell Manny about the cute little major sitting behind the desk all day there by his lonesome. Once convinced, Manny will relocate to the Mojave Outpost and take Ghost’s place.

Bryce Anders. This keen-eyed ranger can be recruited to Ghost’s position if he is rescued from the Vault 3 Fiends by the Courier. Once spoken with in Camp McCarran, the Courier can explain that the Mojave Outpost needs a new ranger stationed there. He will defer to Colonel Hsu’s authority on reassignments, and with a successful [Speech 60], [Medicine 40], or [NCR Fame] check, Hsu will agree to the reassignment on the grounds that it’s a useful position still sedentary enough to not complicate the ranger’s recovery.

Little Buster. The listless bounty hunter at Camp McCarran is looking for another career path and would be willing to take over Ghost’s do-nothing position. However, the only way to recruit him is to fabricate both credentials and enlistment records by either stealing personnel files from either Colonel Hsu’s office at Camp McCarran or from the filing cabinets at Camp Golf, or speaking to Daniel Contreras, who “knows a guy” who’ll take care of it if the Courier has already acquired access to Contreras' expanded inventory by siding with him in the unmarked quest “Dealing with Contreras.”

Private Halford. The sole survivor of Camp Guardian mentions that he wants to head back home through Mojave Outpost after being rescued from the mirelurk caves, at which point the Courier can mention no one is allowed to leave through there, and ask if he’d like to take Ghost’s position there instead. At first he’ll refuse, but with a [Speech 45] or [NCR Fame] check he can be convinced that a quiet, do-nothing watch assignment would be a lot better than anything else after what happened at Camp Guardian, to which he’ll agree. He will also relocate to the Mojave Outpost after being freed anyway, getting stuck like everyone else so that the speech check can be re-attempted. However, Halford isn’t considered well-trained enough for a ranger’s job. The Courier must speak to Jackson (or Knight, if Jackson is dead) and pass a [Speech 80] or [NCR Fame] check to make a strong endorsement, or a [Survival 55] check to explain how impressive it is that he survived an attack from so many mirelurks. Alternatively, the Courier can fabricate impressive enough credentials through the options required to assign Little Buster.

Once Ghost’s replacement has been assigned to the Mojave Outpost, the Courier only needs to speak to Ghost again. She will explain that she’s been “reassigned” to open patrol across the Mojave, ostensibly to track Legion activity, so long as she does so with the Courier. She also gains an additional dialogue option dependent on your choice of replacement:

What do you think of your replacement?

(Generic ranger) For this job? Any ranger’s as wasted as any other. I almost feel bad, I doubt she’ll like that fucking roof any more than I did...almost feel bad. Doesn’t quite cancel out the relief.

(Boone) First recon is one hell of a pull. Took right to it, too, like he was already used to it. Strikes me as the...quiet, contemplative type. Likes to think. Not much else to do up there, anyway. I bet those brahmin pins have never felt safer.

(Manny) First recon is one hell of a pull. Took right to it, too, like he was already used to it. Seems like a nice enough guy, and seems to be getting along with Major Knight. Hell, you love to see it.

(Bryce) A good man. Heard about what the Fiends did to him, and after all that, he certainly deserves a break. Didn’t think of this shit job as much of a vacation before, but seems like it’ll do him good.

(Buster) Not sure where the hell you found this guy, but if (Jackson / Knight) gave the okay, then...okay. I would’ve put a goddamn brahmin in a beret up there if it could have gotten me another assignment.

(Halford) The mirelurk guy? Yeah, he seems alright. I’ve never actually seen a mirelurk, but after hearing his story, I don’t think I want to. I didn’t even know we had a camp that far up there.

Speaking to Ghost after her replacement takes her position completes the quest, and from then on, she can now be recruited as a companion. However, similar to Boone, she will only remain the Courier’s companion if they maintain good reputation with the NCR, and as an active-duty ranger, her intolerance for anti-NCR actions is even more strict.

Ending Slides

If "Giving Up the Ghost” is started, but never completed:

NCR Victory. Ranger Ghost remained at Mojave Outpost, dutifully, thanklessly, and restlessly. When the rangers there received word that the Legion had made their move on the dam, the entire outpost went silent. Waiting. From her rooftop perch, at least she was the first to see the bearer of good news come up the road. In the moment, at least, it was worth everything to be there.

Legion, House, or Independent Victory. Ranger Ghost remained at Mojave Outpost, dutifully, thanklessly, and restlessly. When the rangers there received word that the Legion had made their move on the dam, the entire outpost went silent. Waiting. From her rooftop perch, she was the first to see the NCR’s retreat, as civilians and troopers alike began fleeing through the Long 15. She was right: this whole time, all she could do was watch.

Ghost is dead. Ghost, bitterly, died as she lived...(deep sigh) at the Mojave fucking Outpost.

If “Giving Up the Ghost” is completed:

NCR Victory: When legionnaires by the score descended upon Hoover Dam, Ghost was proud to have been one of the many rangers in the battle that kicked their shit in back across the Colorado. She celebrated with the rest of them, even a smile creeping onto her face every now and then. Still, Ghost returned to business before long, as part of a squad out East tracking down the straggling remnants of Caesar’s retreating Legion.

Legion Victory: Ghost was among the many rangers who fought at Hoover Dam, but when the army of legionnaires led by the Courier, to whom she owed her very presence there, proved unstoppable, she was ultimately among its many casualties. Their advance was too sudden, too overwhelming, for a clean evacuation, and a grisly duel with a centurion trapped her near the front. Still, the Legion never took Ghost alive. She made sure of it.

House or Independent Victory: The arrival of the Securitrons at Hoover Dam was a surprise to every NCR trooper stationed there, including Ghost. Their sudden turn against the NCR, and their allegiance to the Courier, even more so. The triumph of vanquishing the Legion was short-lived, then, as Ghost joined the forced retreat, one pale face in a sea of many.

Ghost is dead: Despite her name, there was no supernatural flourish when Ghost died. She simply died like a ranger, fighting to the end. That’s all that mattered.

(Bonus) Cass’s Ending Slide if the Courier frames her for the murder of Jackson:

Rose of Sharon Cassidy spent all of her time at the Mojave Outpost in a drunken stupor, which is why when Major Knight oversaw her arrest for the murder of Ranger Jackson, it took so long to get exonerated. By the time the alibi was pieced together and the evidence was admitted as circumstantial, the battle of Hoover Dam shifted NCR’s attention elsewhere, and the crime was never solved. For a few months in the clink, though, at least Cass got what she wanted: home, and finally away from the outpost.

#fallout #fallout new vegas #fnv #ranger ghost #art #fallout elevated extras #elevated extras #from me

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lovelylaurie · 5 years ago

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Chronology - Part 1

Childhood Laurie x (March) Reader Words: 1173 Request: @psychshawnjuleshanluke A series where each part follows reader and Laurie’s relationship over time. Part 1 | 2 | 3

The Laurence house had always loomed just beyond the winding road for as long as you could remember. Its stately presence, always there, just a short walk away that seemed miles to your young mind. Its eaves, cloaked in creeping ivy, exuded an air of haunting decay.

When Amy refused to come home after school and went to the manor instead, you held back. Its eerily dark windows and stern white brick walls were cold and uninviting. Your sister Jo, scarcely a year your elder, took notice. She held your hand in hers and assured you there was nothing to be afraid of, “Come on now, if Amy can stand it, how bad can it be?” You laughed, the sparkling, glittering laugh of mirthful childhood. Hand in hand, Jo led you down the path that would soon become so familiar, and through the dark double doors that opened to the house that grew to be your second home. Then, in the study, you met Laurie, tall and handsome, with his hands in his pockets and a gleeful grin on his face. Immediately, the manor’s stolid grandeur melted away. As Jo rushed off to scold Amy and behold the books, you found yourself beside Laurie, watching the homely chaos unfold. He turned to you and held out his hand, “Theodore Laurence, but everyone calls me Laurie.” Shaking it, you replied, ��(y/n) March.” “So, (y/n), what have we here?” he motioned to the scene before you. “A typical tableau of the March family. Sitting primly on the couch is Meg, she’s the eldest. Next, with her face in a book, is Jo, though I hear you’ve met. Then there’s me, but I’m barely younger than Jo. Huddled next to Marmee is our Beth, she’s the sweetest thing you’ll ever meet. And youngest is Amy.” You continued to chat with Laurie until everyone shuffled out, and promised to meet again soon. The next time you approached the Laurence house, anticipation replaced your apprehension. Though you were only there for Jo to return a book and borrow another, you and Laurie managed to talk and explore the halls for hours. He showed you all the empty rooms and mysteriously locked doors, the long-abandoned but lavishly furnished closets, and every secret entrance to the kitchens. Lastly, you entered the attic. Dust floated in the air and the sheer mass of stuff all around you muffled every noise. Distant echoes from the marble floors downstairs faded, and suddenly it was just you and Laurie. His eyes brimmed with adventure and his smile was thrilling. The attic was vast, stretching over the entire house, and filled to the brim. Laurie galavanted down a makeshift path between the towers of lavish curiosities and you took off after him. It was late afternoon when you returned to the study. Jo was still stretched out on a couch and looked up when you entered. She smiled at your wrinkled dress and disheveled hair, completely freed from the tight bun Meg had spent a quarter of an hour on earlier that morning. On the walk home, she asked, “Was that fun?” “Fun? It was splendid!” you exclaimed. A few days later, you spotted Laurie coming down the path towards your house. His figure, shrouded in a thick winter coat and hat, was easy to spot against the bright white snow. A wonderfully mischievous idea came to you suddenly. Grabbing your coat and boots, you ran outside to crouch behind a bush near the fence, quickly gathering the snow around you. When Laurie approached not a minute later, you lobbed a snowball at him. It hit his shoulder and he whipped around to face you. “Good morning, Laurie!” you called, throwing another one. It hit him square in the chest. “AAH! I’ve been hit!” he professed dramatically, falling backward into the snow. When you approached him, smothering giggles, he flopped his arm over his face and mumbled, “Goodbye, cruel world...” After a moment, he pulled his arm down and smiled, “Good morning, (y/n).” You and Laurie became fast and close friends. You spent the entirety of that winter together, either at the Laurence or March house. And the close proximity that comes along with hours indoors together only aided your growing amity. Your favorite times, and thus most treasured memories, were spent nestled together before a happily crackling fireplace. After snowball fights, Laurie’s curls would cling to the sides of his face, framing his beaming smiles and lively, dark eyes perfectly. When spring thawed the snow and frost and warmed the air, you burst from confinement with a vengeance of exploration hitherto unseen. Though you had spent your childhood roaming the forests and hills of your home, they felt entirely new in Laurie’s presence. Not a single stone was left unturned, or tree unclimbed, even in your most familiar of haunts. With Laurie beside you, a new light was cast on everything. You used to go to creeks and streams and rub pebbles against each other. The softer stone would be ground into a thin paste that you would use to paint your faces. “(y/n), I demand your most fearsome warpaint!” Laurie proclaimed, planting himself before you, poised and with legs crisscrossed. You could do nothing but oblige when he closed his eyes and tilted his head up with a bright and sunny smile. Summer was lazy and languid. The air was too warm and thick to run around, so you sat under the shade of trees. Some days were full of animated discussions that had you talking over each other, yelling, and laughing. Some were quiet and still, lying beside one another and reading or musing softly. You wove wildflowers into crowns that Laurie wore with the pride and dignity of a king. Fall crept up slowly as you said a long and somber goodbye to summer. Returning indoors, you grew closer than ever to Laurie. You could often be found tangled together on couches and chairs, reading and silently enjoying each other’s company. Beth joined you at the Laurence house, and your afternoons and evenings were often accompanied by beautiful melodies. Winter arrived and you finally shrugged off the lackadaisical airs of the past few months. As soon as snow cloaked the ground completely and the cold bit with an unbearable harshness, all you wanted to do was be outside. You and Laurie made snowmen, went skating, and built trenches in snowbanks for intense snowball fights. By Christmas, you had both caught persistent colds that kept you restlessly confined indoors. Apart from your sisters, Laurie was your closest companion and most trusted confidant. Your connection was deeper than that of a friend and fonder than that of a brother. Laurie held a special place in your heart that was all his own. While reading Wuthering Heights, a certain line stopped you dead in your tracks and you immediately thought of Laurie, “He's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.”

#fic #laurie laurence #laurie x reader #laurie laurence x reader #little women #little women 2019 #theodore laurence #theodore laurence x reader #laurie little women #laurie little women 2019

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mx-ishikawa · 4 years ago

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Like a fire in My Blood

(so uhhh obligatory Lupin self-insert fic!! this is a li’l backstory of how my S/I got involved with the squad that I’ve been working on for the past couple weeks, lmao. warnings for guns, canon-typical violence, and lots of swearing- y’all know me by now XD” enjoy!)

Tied up to a chair in an abandoned warehouse surrounded by gun-toting mobsters was not planned for my Saturday night. Then again, normalcy wasn’t very present in my life anymore.

“Now you’re gonna tell me one more time, sweetheart, where is that treasure?” the squatty man who I assumed was the leader growled, pointing the gun at my face. What the fuck.

“First of all, I am not as sweet as you think I am,” I spat- how the hell was I so snarky staring straight into the barrel of death itself??- “and second of all, I really have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about so quit insisting I do and let me go!” Surprisingly, he lowered the gun.

“You’re a terrible liar, my dear,” he snarled, going over to where my jacket that had been forcibly removed from my person for some reason was hung.

“Buddy, I was raised by an overprotective controlling helicopter mother, I may as well be a professional liar,” I retorted.

“Well then how the hell do you explain this?!”

I gasped as he pulled out the bright, shimmering green stone from my jacket pocket. FUCK.

“Oh THAT! Jesus Christ, I completely forgot I had that, goddamn!”

“Yeah, sure you did.”

“No, I’m dead serious, I actually forgot about that! Literally, if I had remembered that I would’a told you straight-up because that shit is not worth my life!”

“Well then, care to explain now?”

“Yeah okay so it’s like- I went down State Street, past the Cultural Center, then I kinda went through Millenium Park until I got to the Art Institute, then I took a left and once I got past Lakeshore Drive I hopped over to the left again and- that cluster of trees at the park entrance? It’s literally right there in the middle of them, hidden practically in plain sight! I was just trying to find some worms for composting and I find a shit-ton of emeralds instead, how crazy is that?” I laughed breathlessly.

It wasn’t a joke, no, every word I spoke was true. I was so shocked upon finding the stash of emeralds right there in the middle of Chicago that I immediately covered it back up and ran off-- but not before nicking one, if only as proof that the whole thing hadn’t been a weird fever dream. And possibly for future bragging rights, but other than that, material things like rare precious jewels meant nothing to me. The fact that these happened to be in my favorite color was just a cool bonus.

“Thank you for your cooperation,” the fat man sneered, huffing away at his fat cigar. “I’ll be taking this and the rest of the emeralds now.”

“Go ahead, I don’t need it or any of the others.” I would have waved my hand dismissively had it not been tied behind my back.

“I don’t understand though… what kind of woman would give up such riches so easily?”

I tried not to gag. I don’t mind being called a woman, but not with that kind of sexist implication. “Not the kind of woman you’re thinking of, that’s for goddamn sure.”

“Ah well. None of that matters in the end.” He paused to snap his fingers, and two of his biggest men approached with their guns. “Finish her off.”

“Whoa wait WHAT?! Why do you wanna kill me, I fuckin’ TOLD you where the emeralds are-?!”

“And I appreciate that, it’s just that I can’t have any witnesses, you know? It’s only business.” he gave a wicked sneer. The men cocked their guns.

“Fuck you and your business, I won’t tell anyone, I swear! You saw how honest I was, come on, please, I-!”

I screamed and screwed my eyes shut as a shot rang out. I braced myself for the worst. But it never came.

I finally opened my eyes when I heard a “what the hell?!” from among the mobsters. I gasped as I saw another, new person standing protectively in front of me. Someone who appeared to be wearing traditional Japanese attire, with long black hair and an even longer sword. Who was this person and what the hell happened?!

“FIRE!!” the leader yelled. In an instant, the stranger leaped up into the air and lifted their sword, twirling it around effortlessly as shots were fired at them. What were they do-

My thoughts were brought to a screeching halt as a bullet landed next to me. No, it was only half of a bullet. My eyes widened, looking back up at the stranger with the sword. No fucking way.

From that second, my eyes were transfixed on them. I watched them in shock as they sliced literal bullets clean in half with ease. When some of the men ran off, the stranger leapt forward with a low grunt and slashed their sword through the men’s guns. They gasped in shock and fright as their weapons broke clean in half seconds later. There seemed to be thousands of mobsters in this warehouse, but the sword-wielding stranger took everyone down with ease. Even when their sword was suddenly shot out of their hands, they nimbly avoided impact and took the mobsters down with what appeared to be heavily-practiced martial arts moves.

Now I’d seen my fair share of bloody fights since mingling with the underground scene in Chicago. Hell, even back in my tiny hometown I’d seen some shit. But never had I seen someone fight so gracefully. Every move they made was so smooth and poised that if I didn’t know any better I’d have thought they were dancing. They caught sight of their sword from across the room and leapt out of the fight to snatch it back. Every move they made with that thing was quick and clean-cut, deliberate and precise, effortlessly slashing anything that came their way. When seemingly every gun was destroyed or emptied of bullets, only a few brave unarmed mobsters remained, but with a few fluid flicks of the swordfighter’s wrist, all of their clothes were slashed off save for their boxers and tighty whities. Not exactly a sight for sore eyes, but it was enough to make even the leader of the mob run away screaming for their lives.

“Haha, take that ya old geezer!” someone yelled. I gasped and finally diverted my attention from the swordsman to find two more people were in the warehouse, someone with a red jacket and another with a black one. When the hell did they get here??

In that brief moment when I looked away, the graceful warrior had come behind where I was sitting, and before I could plead for them not to kill me, I was freed from the ropes that bound me. I pulled my arms forward and breathed heavily, trying to process what the FUCK just happened when a voice behind me spoke.

“Are you alright?”

Their voice was deep and strong, yet held no tone of aggression or danger. I turned to look at my savior and gasped. It was a handsome- no, beautiful- man. He was tall and slender, standing strong and proud. His pale skin glistened with a thin coating of sweat from all that movement, and I couldn’t help but notice that he wore his shirt in a way that exposed most of his chest. His hands were large and strong, but with long, nimble fingers. He had a narrow face and elegant features. High cheekbones, a defined jawline, a light rosy dusting on his cheeks, and intense, dark eyes. He looked to be stoic and serious, and if he hadn’t just saved my life I might have been intimidated by him.

“I… wow~... I mean! I’m… safe, thanks to you.”

“And us, too!” a voice from earlier retorted. I whipped my head around, it was the man in the red jacket. “It was a team effort, wasn’t just him ya know.”

“Jeez Lupin, give her a break,” the man in black said, “you weren’t the first one to make sure she wasn’t dead!”

“Well I think I deserve some credit too, Jigen!” the man in red- Lupin- whined.

“I uhh… well thank you everyone but… I didn’t actually see what you two did.

“What?!” Lupin gasped.

“Sorryyy! I just...” I turned back to the handsome swordsman, “you were the first one I saw show up so I guess I just kinda… focused on ya.”

The man called Jigen chuckled. “Hey Goemon, looks like you got an admirer!”

“Hey!” I felt my face heat up. “I just-!” I bashfully looked again to the swordsman- Goemon.

“Goemon… thank you, and your friends, for sa-” I cut myself off as realization clicked in my brain. “Wait a second…” Lupin. Jigen. Goemon. I’ve heard those names together before. “Wait just a minute, I know who you guys are!” Lupin let out a monkey-ish giggle.

“Took ya long enough to recognize me! No surprise though, I am pretty infamous~”

“So it’s safe to assume you’re after the same treasure those mobsters were, right?”

“Bingo,” Jigen said, tipping his hat ever so slightly.

“So, if you guys wanted to get there first… why did you save me?”

“Because unlike them, we do not want harm to come to innocent people,” Goemon nobly spoke. God, something about his voice… clear as a bell, soothing, and undeniably sexy. But his words put me at ease.

“Oh thank god… so, since you saved my life and all that, how ‘bout I make your lives easier by leading you to the emeralds?”

“Sounds good to me,” Jigen said, and the others agreed. They casually strolled out of the warehouse as if they hadn’t just fought off mobsters in that very space, off to their car parked in front. Lupin took the driver’s seat while Jigen got in the passenger side, leaving Goemon and me to sit in the back together.

“So,” Goemon spoke once we got moving. Was it just me or did his cheeks get pinker? “What is your name?”

I froze. Shit.

“Uhh… I… I kinda have a beef with my real name, but uh, you can just call me Light.”

“Light, huh?” Lupin piped up from the front. “Where’d ya get that alias from?”

“It’s a long story,” I chuckled.

Goemon shifted in his seat. “I like it.” Cue me blushing again.

“Y-you do?? I mean, thanks…” I scratched the back of my neck. His only response was a nod as he crossed his arms in front of his broad chest.

He was quiet for the rest of the ride, Lupin and Jigen making most of the conversation as I pointed out where to go. But I couldn’t stop looking over at Goemon. He looked so calm, so picturesque. I admired the way the wind wafted through his long locks and how his thick lashes rested against his rosy cheeks. And sometimes, when I glanced over at him, I found him looking right back at me. Like he wanted to say something to me, but didn’t. Something in his eyes made him look so soft. When I first looked at him, those eyes stared right through my soul and meant business, but now there was something much more tender behind them. Almost like… puppy eyes. I felt myself swallow thickly.

My thoughts were brought to a halt when Lupin parked the car on the side of the street. All we had to do was cross Lakeshore Drive and we were on our way to the treasure. Thankfully it was dark out and we’d be less noticed.

“Thank god there’s a bridge here,” Jigen said, puffing at his cigarette. “Because I am not crossing that son of a bitch.”

“Yeah my mom and I made that mistake the first time I was here, we were standing there waiting to get across for ages.”

“Wait, I thought you lived here?” Lupin inquired as we made our way across.

“I do now,” I clarified. “Didn’t always though. For most of my life I lived in this shitty small town about an hour and a half away from here. I’d visited here about six times, so naturally this was my first choice when I finally got the chance to get the fuck outta there. Haven’t been here for very long though, only like what, a couple months maybe?”

“So you were a small-town gal, eh?” Jigen exhaled another breath of smoke. I grimaced.

“Yeah, and I hated it.”

Once we got across the drive and to the site of the emeralds, Lupin started asking more questions.

“So Light, if you were the first person to find this treasure, how come you only took one and not the whole stash? Was it a strategic thing or-”

“Well actually, I found this shit completely by accident, so leaving all but one here was mostly out of shock. That, and I never really cared much for material shit.” Jigen sighed from next to me as he dug.

“Finally, a woman who doesn’t.”

My brows furrowed together. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Hey, if you’re talking about Fujiko again, you’d better can it!”

“Wait, who’s Fujiko??”

“A female affiliate of Lupin’s,” Goemon answered.

“A very unfaithful one at that,” Jigen scowled, “she’s not above stabbing us in the backs to get the loot we earned for herself.”

“Oh come on guys, she doesn’t always betray us!” Lupin whined.

“Makin’ excuses for your girlfriend again,” Jigen grumbled. I dared not make any further comment on this Fujiko thing; seemed like a personal problem. Once we finally uncovered the jewels, I helped load them into a large sack.

“Even if you do not care for material items such as these, it is only fair that you are given a share of them,” Goemon spoke.

“Yeah, we’ll split ‘em up evenly between the four of us!” Lupin smiled.

“Awww~. You know…” I began, “for a group of rag-tag thieves, you guys are pretty nice. Nicer than half the law-abiding citizens I’ve met in my lifetime.”

“Well, you know, it’s all in a day’s work!” Lupin chirped, before his voice suddenly dipped a bit lower. “And you know, you and I could work well together in other areas~”

Goemon bopped Lupin’s head with the hilt of his sword before I could think of a response. Did Lupin just flirt with me??

“Jesus Christ, Lupin, get ahold’a yourself,” Jigen scolded.

I wasn’t sure how to respond so I kept quiet until we were finished with our work, and almost immediately someone caught us.

“HOLD IT RIGHT THERE LUPIN, YER UNDER ARREST!!” a loud, booming voice yelled. I looked over and saw a tall, stocky man who appeared to be dressed like a detective from the 1940s with a slew of police behind him.

“Oh shit, the feds!” I gasped as we took off.

“Sorry Pops, I got places to go!” Lupin snickered. We sprinted through the park- god I always hated running- until we got to a dock. The man known as “Pops” was hot on our trail, but the guys hopped into a boat and managed to start it up. I was the last to hop into the boat- but I tripped and dropped my bag of emeralds, which thankfully landed inside the boat with a clattering. I braced myself for an awkward landing but a pair of strong arms caught me. And just like that, the boat sped off so quickly that I had to brace myself against whoever was holding me. I heard “Pops” yelling in the distance, but my brain turned it into white noise when I looked up and saw that once again Goemon was my rescuer- and my hand was directly on his chest. My face flamed up like gasoline.

“Gwaaah!! Uhh-” I gasped as I embarrassedly scurried out of his grasp. “Thank you, sorry-!” I brushed my bangs out of my face, a nervous habit.

“Why are you apologizing?” Goemon asked. “There is nothing to be sorry for.”

“Yeah, you helped us get to the treasure!” Lupin said from the steering wheel.

“If anything, we should be the sorry ones because now you’re stuck with us and your home is back there,” Jigen chuckled.

“Eh, home is where the heart is,” I said. “And my heart always wants to travel but never gets to.”

“Ah, a free spirit, I see how it is,” Lupin giggled.

“Lord I was born a ramblin’ man~” Jigen softly sang, lighting a cigarette.

“Yeah… I hate staying in one place for too long. Unfortunately for me, I’ve only ever lived in two places my entire life, and we’re rowin’ this boat away from one of them. But hey, this was my first time being personally caught doing something illegal so I’ve been perfectly prepared to just abandon ship and take off at any time.”

“Wait, does this imply you were planning on this? I thought you said you found these gems by accident!” Lupin gasped. I had to laugh.

“Nono, I did! But that doesn’t mean I’m innocent~.”

“So what the hell is it you do?” Jigen asked.

“I’ve been involved in undercover transport of goods, it’s what I do for a living. And before you ask because I know you will, yes, some of those goods are drugs, but not all of it. Sometimes we assist in the trading of riches like these emeralds, and sometimes we get food and water or money for bills to those in need when their so-called government aid won’t. Yeah sure it’s illegal, but it ain’t a bad gig.”

“My ancestors would greatly honor the work you do,” Goemon calmly spoke. The compliment caught me off guard, but when I looked at him I could tell he was sincere.

“Aww shucks, it’s nothing,” I chuffed, scratching the mack of my neck.

“Please tell me your organization is named “The Robin Hood Project” or something like that,” Lupin laughed.

“Actually, we have no name to our services,” I clarified. “Gotta stay discreet.”

“A wise decision,” Goemon said.

“Sorry if we just got you out of a job,” Lupin apologized.

“Naw, this ain’t like no 9-5 gig, it pretty much runs on a ‘come whenever you’re available’ basis, they’ll understand if I’m away… might be surprised once they find out I got wrapped up with Lupin the Third, haha.”

“That’s my name, please wear it out!” the aforementioned thief giggled.

There was a brief moment of quiet before Goemon spoke once again, turning to me. “If you wish to go wherever the wind takes you, then it seems the wind is blowing in your favor tonight,” he nobly said.

“Sorry about him, he likes to get all prophetical and speak in metaphors and shit,” Jigen said.

“No I understand what he’s saying,” I said to Jigen, but I was looking more at Goemon. Was it just me or did he have a small smile on his face? I returned him a smile just in case. “Thanks again for, y’know saving me and everything. Thanks to everyone but… especially you.”

“Yep, she’s your admirer alright,” Lupin laughed.

“Shush up!!” Goemon and I somehow said in unison, before we exchanged shocked glances with each other.

“Jinx! You owe me a Coke!” I yelled excitedly.

“Uhhh…” Goemon averted his gaze and his eyes darted all over, looking confused. It was strange, seeing the man that took down an entire armed mob with nothing but a katana and his own fleetness look so innocent, but that only added to his charms. Oh no, he was way too cute.

“You don’t actually owe her a Coke man, it’s just a thing people say,” Jigen chuckled. Goemon sat forward and crossed his arms, looking slightly embarrassed.

“American expressions of speech remain a mystery to me,” he grumbled, cheeks flushing a deeper rosy pink. Yup, he’s way too adorable. My heart fluttered just looking at him. I was doomed. I was so doo-

“LUPIN YOU LITTLE WEASEL!! STOP THAT BOAT RIGHT NOW, YER UNDER ARREST!!!”

“That same guy again?!” I gasped as a blinding spotlight was cast on us from what I assumed was a police boat.

“Pops, you’re relentless!” Lupin yelled from the front of the boat.

“Sorry, we got places to go and shit to steal!” Jigen chuckled before promptly shooting out the spotlight. This time Goemon deliberately held me flush against him as we sped away from “Pops” for the second time and into the night.

#my writing #self ship #lupin iii #self insert #goemon ishikawa xiii #self shipping #self insert fic #self shipping community #arsene lupin iii #daisuke jigen #Pops appears but only briefly lmao #self ship fic #s/i fic #f/o: Goemon #pf/o: Lupin #pf/o: Jigen #just when I needed to be lucky

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shifting-lark · 4 years ago

Text

Lark meets Nami

Enjoy this random snippet ~

((BACKSTORY: A huge fight had just taken place between Moria (guy who enslaved Lark) and the Straw Hat pirates. After they defeated him, everyone is in a big banquet hall in the castle eating, drinking, and celebrating. Everyone had minor scrapes and bruises but Zoro was still unconscious, having the most serious injuries by far. At this point, Lark has only spoken with a few of the Straw Hats but Luffy has already invited her to sail with them.))

Lark POV

I had never seen a party quite like this one. The Straw Hats were spread throughout the room, laughing and talking with the other residence that had just been freed from Moria’s reign. It was the happiest I had felt in awhile, yet everything had happened so fast. My life had completely changed in less than a day all thanks to Luffy and his crew.

I sat on the banquet hall floor, leaning casually against the wall, sitting next to Zoro. He was unconscious, laying on a makeshift bed on the floor, his bandages just cleaned and replaced with Chopper’s help. I had witnessed everything he went through, and I couldn’t seem to let myself leave his side.

“It’s Lark right?” I heard a friendly female voice ask. I looked up to see the red head standing over me. I nodded at her and I guess she took that as an invitation to sit next to me. “I’m Nami, the navigator.” I nodded in understanding. “How’s he doing?” She asked looking down at Zoro.

“Chopper says he’ll be okay, just needs to rest.” I explained. There was an awkward pause and I wasn’t sure what to say. I wasn’t a very social person and meeting strangers was never easy.

“How long have you been on the crew?” I asked finally.

She gave a short laugh, “It depends, do you include the time I tried to leave the crew?”

“You tried to leave?” I was a little shocked. The crew was so tight knit it seemed impossible to imagine them separately.

Nami nodded, “It’s a long story that I’m sure you don’t care for. But basically I was confused and thought I had to do something on my own. I’ve always been on my own, I wasn’t used to having friends to count on.”

I chuckled, “Same here…”

She sighed happily, “But then I met him.” she smiled fondly over at Luffy who was laughing with Usopp and Chopper.

“What’s so special about him?” I asked, looking over at their captain. He was short, goofy, not very intimidating, and just a weirdo overall. “Why choose to follow him?”

She giggled to herself, “You don’t know him yet, Lark. You see him on the outside but you still have no idea who he really is.” She placed a hand on my shoulder and instinctively I almost shrugged her off, but I didn’t. “Give it a week, or even just a day, you’ll see who he really is. He’s saved my life in more ways than one. He’s the greatest man I’ve ever met.” Her big brown eyes showed pure honesty and I could only nod in response.

She gave me a reassuring smile and stood up. “Let me know if you need anything. I’ll be here for you. And so will everyone else.” She smiled again and walked away, heading back towards Robin.

I was left with my thoughts, watching her walk away. “The greatest man you’ve ever met, huh?” I said quietly to myself, “We’ll see about that.”

Note: Lark is such a closed off person, but she doesn’t not like meeting people, it’s just hard for her to fully open up. She immediately thinks people will use her or hurt her so she doesn’t put her guard down. So Nami being nice and just sitting down and talking with her Lark internally was like ????? excuse me?

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mirkwoodshewolf · 5 years ago

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Wizard of Oz Queen x pre-teen Chap. 2; Landing in Oz

*Author’s note*

Alrighty here’s where things get interesting now just a few things. Now for the person I’ve chosen to be Glinda, the witch of the North I had a combined costume idea, so based on the gifs below imagine Fred’s outfit from the Christmas 1975 Hammersmith concert, and the very LAST costume David Bowie wears in the film Labyrinth. Also a face cast you can imagine for the 4 Fae Queens, just think of Lucy Boynton’s!Mary Austin.

Warnings: Tornadoes, death of a character (not a main one).

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@psychosupernatural

@ixchel-9275

@simonedk

@platawnic

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@queensdivas

@queendeakyy

@geek-and-proud

@kairosfreddie

_______________________________________________________________

*3rd Person POV*

About a half mile away from the house, a giant F2 tornado had hit right near Rockfield studios. Henry Gale was frantically racing towards the barn to get some of the cows and horses lose from the stable so that they wouldn’t be trapped and end up getting killed.

Covering herself with her shawl, Aunt Em raced out the backdoor near the storm shelter and she cried out for (Y/n) as loud as she could over the harsh winds.

Just around the trail leading to the house, (Y/n) and Toto arrived back home to see the tornado coming right up towards the house. She and Toto as best as they could ran around the fence dodging bushes and trees that were now flying right towards them.

“Henry! Henry I can’t find (Y/n) she must be out there in the storm!”

“We don’t have time to look for her now we’ve got to get underground!” Henry urged his wife as he dragged her over to the storm cellar. All the while Em was screaming out for (Y/n) till she was gently shoved into the storm cellar. Henry followed close behind her and struggled to close the doors till finally he got it and bolted it from the inside.

*1st POV*

The loud winds, the trees flying right at us, and the sheer force of the winds themselves almost wanting to take us with whatever it could grab. I set my suitcase down and quickly grabbed Toto before racing toward the house.

When we finally got there, I grabbed the screen door but as I opened it, it flew right off its hinges and into the air. Without a second thought I opened the main door and started searching all the main leveled rooms for my aunt.

“Auntie Em! Auntie Em!” the storm cellar! I ran towards the backdoor and opened it and was petrified cause the tornado was now just a foot away from the house. I ran over to the cellar door and tried to open it only to find it was locked.

I kicked it trying to be louder than the rapid winds and crying out as loud as I could.

“Auntie Em! Uncle Henry!” the tornado was getting closer so with no other choice I went back inside and closed my bedroom door. My heart was racing and I was completely terrified. I held Toto closer to my chest praying that the twister was going to pass.

Suddenly my windows exploded from the hinges and went flying around my room. I shrieked and tried to duck away from my window, I crawled towards my bed but as I tried to pull myself up onto it, the window suddenly flew right at me and hit me in the back of my head.

Soon I was knocked out as I fell against my bed.

When I woke up, I heard the sound of chickens clucking before the cries of a rooster. I looked out towards the open window and saw a whole chicken coop was outside before blowing away. I was also surprised to see a cow suddenly fly right by mooing as it did.

Toto came right up towards my window barking at the cow before hopping right off and going to hide underneath the bed. Shortly after the cow went away, two men in a canoe soon appeared. When they saw me, they took off their fishing hats and greeted me before rowing away. I then looked down my window to see just where exactly we were.

And I got the shock of my life when I saw nothing but spiraling winds.

“We must be up inside the tornado!” I exclaimed to Toto who peeked his head up right at me. Soon another surprise came at me when I saw Paul Prenter just a few feet away from my window. He sat on top of a car (god I hope Freddie and the boys aren’t in there). I exclaimed his name in shock but it wasn’t until a few seconds later that I thought I was going mad.

As quick as a snap. Paul’s appearance soon began to change. Now he wore an all-black witch’s robe, the car turned into a broomstick, he wore the typical sharp pointy black witch hat, and his skin turned a sickly green color.

Terrified I buried myself into my bed as the echoes of a wicked laugh came out of him.

The house continued to spin faster and faster, so much so that now my bed was moving from side to side of the house. I kept screaming and shrieking as I held Toto close to my side so that he wouldn’t get hurt. It felt like forever that we kept spinning on the bed and swaying back and forth.

Then as quick as it happened, it suddenly stopped and everything went silent. There was no more wind howling, no more movement, no cackling, nothing. Just pure silence.

After waiting about a minute or two to see if we really had landed, I stood up picking Toto off the bed and grabbed my basket that I kept some essential things in and walked out of my room.

The house was disarray with things falling over, pictures broken, books scattered everywhere, and furniture turned on its side. Toto and I walked through the damage right towards the front door.

When I opened up the front door, I was greeted with the most beautiful sight.

All around was nothing but bright colored flowers, a small bridge with a crystal clear river flowing underneath it, and up ahead a tiny little village of sorts. I slowly got out of the house with Toto at my side and the two of us walked out and explored this abandoned place.

It was beautiful. Flowers that looked like the ones back home and some flowers I had never seen before, like this one flower looked like a rose however it was sky blue color, and when you went to smell it, it didn’t smell like a rose at all. It smelled more like a daffodil.

We walked over the small bridge closer to the village homes and I could see just behind the village were rolling hills just like back home. And the floor was even unique, it spiraled around into two colors, one was a red brick trail while the other was yellow.

“Toto,” I started, “I have a feeling we’re not in Wales anymore.” I told him. I continued to look around this beautiful place and was just in awe at it’s beauty. It was like something out of a fairy tale. “It’s so pretty here.”

I then heard a shimmer of a bell behind me and when I turned around floating right towards Toto and I was a crystal ball of sorts. The sun reflected off the beautiful rainbow within it and to my surprise, the ball began to grow bigger and bigger the closer it got to us.

I backed away slowly as the crystal soon landed on the ground and soon appearing before us was a man.

He was—very handsome. Dark, tan skin with black hair that almost made him look regal looking (kinda like a lion’s mane). His eyes were emphasized with the Egyptian cat’s tail, and glitter specked across his cheeks giving him a more ethereal appearance.

He wore a mixture of white and silver clothes. His pants and tight shirt were all white but he was draped in a silver fur coat. Well the fur stopped midway while the rest of it was like expensive silk or even satin material.

He also wore rings across almost each finger and his nails were painted the purest black. And in his hand he held a dazzling wand glittered with diamonds.

What was also unique yet slightly familiar about this—being was the overbite he had. I couldn’t place it but I swear I knew someone else with an overbite just like him but—I could remember his name.

“Now I—I know we’re not in Wales.” I muttered down to Toto. He walked up to his, hit white boots clicking underneath the stone-brick road. His eyes stared at me intensely as he said.

“Are you a good witch? Or a bad witch?” I looked around confused before pointing to me.

“Who me?” he nodded. “I’m—I’m not a witch at all. I’m (Y/n) Gale. From Monmouth.”

“Oh well is that the witch?” he said pointing down to Toto who looked up at the man with a tilt of his head.

“Who Toto? Toto’s my dog.” He chuckled softly before saying.

“Forgive me my dear, but I’m a little muttered. The seasonal faes had called me to say that a new witch has just dropped a house on the Wicked witch of the East. And there’s the house, and here you are, and there is all that’s left of the Wicked witch of the East.”

I looked over toward my house and low and behold, right where my bedroom was, I saw feet sticking out from underneath my house. I gasped and that’s when the man said to me again.

“And so what the faes want to know is are you good? Or are you wicked?”

“But I already told you I’m not a witch at all. Witches are old and ugly!” I then heard the musical ringing of laughter which startled me.

“What was that?” the man chuckled cunningly as he said.

“The seasonal faes. They’re laughing because I am a witch. Or well—Warlock. I am Fiyero, the Good Warlock of the North.”

“Really? Oh forgive me sir.” I curtsied. “But I never knew a Warlock could be handsome.”

“Only Bad Warlocks are ugly my dear.” Dear? The way he even called me that sounded familiar but—I still couldn’t place the face back home. “The seasonal faes are happy because you have freed them from the wrath of the Wicked Witch of the East.”

“If you’ll forgive me for asking but—what are seasonal faes?” I heard the musical laughter once more and that’s when Fiyero answered.

“The fairies responsible for making all the seasonal or earthly changes in our happy home of Oz.” he told me. Then with a graceful turn of his cape, he soon came up onto a platform and proclaimed, “You may come out my darlings and thank her.” But no one came out.

“Do—do they not trust me?”

“Oh pay no mind my dear. They’re just a little shy. But a little song helps ease them out. Do you know any?”

“I—I think I remember a song that my Auntie once sung to me when I was a little girl.”

“Would you care to sing it for them?” he extended out his hand for mine. I walked towards the platform and hesitantly looked up at him. His gentle brown eyes assured me that it would be okay, so I took his hand and he helped me up the stairs till I stood at the center of the platform.

I rubbed my sweaty palm against my jeans and cleared my throat before turning towards Fiyero who only nodded softly. I took a deep breath and softly began to sing. This was a song my Auntie Em used to sing to me to ease my fear. She said that her mum once sung it to her, and her mum before.

A song passed through generation to generation. As I did the soft vocalization part, I was shocked to hear a reply from a beautiful female voice echoing my vocalization, but adding another part to it.

Play video

*Me*

Every inch of me is trembling But not from the cold Something is familiar Like a dream I can reach but not quite hold I can sense you there Like a friend I've always known I'm arriving And it feels like I am home

I have always been a fortress Cold secrets deep inside You have secrets, too But you don't have to hide

Show yourself I'm dying to meet you Show yourself It's your turn Are you the one I've been looking for All of my life? Show yourself I'm ready to learn

Ah ah ah ah

*Female fae voice*

Ah ah ah ah

I could see Fiyero’s wide smile and he gestured for me to go on. I walked down off the platform and ventured further into the village. The first thing I went up to was a large Hollow tree. I touched the proud trunk before climbing up on top of it. When I scaled a certain part of the tree, I saw just to my left and ice slide.

I pulled myself onto the branch and slowly walked across it before sliding all the way down. Going side to side, loop-de-loops, and dipping straight down till I came to an underground cave. Fire soon sparked through the dark cave and I saw ahead of my large rock pillars just ahead of me.

I took the leap of faith and jumped across from rock to rock, using the fire as my light and only guiding source. When I reached the other side, I soon came across an icy paradise.

Ice surrounded most of this part of the cave, the light from the fire made the ice sparkle like a soft rainbow. Along the trail was an ice bridge and just underneath it was a flowing river. I walked along the bridge still singing my song till I came to an elegantly made ice staircase.

I quickly raced up the stairs only to come back to the beginning back to the front of the village. But still no faes made themselves known. Toto came up to me and I picked him up and turned to Fiyero shrugging in defeat and sadness.

Maybe they didn’t want to see me. And that was sad cause I’ve always secretly longed to see a fairy.

*Me*

I've never felt so certain All my life I've been torn But I'm here for a reason Could it be the reason I was born? I have always been so different Normal rules did not apply Is this the day? Are you the way I finally find out why?

Show yourself I'm no longer trembling Here I am I've come so far You are the answer I've waited for All of my life Oh, show yourself Let me see who you are

He held his hand out in wait as he walked down the platform and gently waved his diamond wand around and magic soon surrounded me with images of the four elements and seasons.

Spring and Earth, Summer and Fire, Autumn and Air, and Winter and Water. When he finished the verse he gestured for me to take over.

I set Toto back down on the ground and just stared in awe at each of the elements/seasons slowly spinning around me. I then found myself reaching out towards the Spring element and as soon as I touched the flower, a powerful magic blast exploded out across the village.

*Fiyero*

Come to her now Open your door Don't make her wait One moment more *Me*

Oh, come to me now Open your door Don't make me wait One moment more

Soon I saw nothing but fairy dust fly out from either the homes, the tree, the caves, and even the garden I had crossed earlier. I was soon surrounded by thousands if not millions of fairies. All of them wearing the colors representing each season or element.

Winter and water spirits wore blue and white, Spring and Earth wore green and brown, the Autumn and Air wore orange or pink attires, and the Summer and Fire faes wore yellow or red. The faes then began singing in a beautiful choir and soon vocalizing were four beautiful women soon coming towards me.

They looked identical in facial appearance but each of them had their own significant ethereal based on each season or element they represented. They were also the same size as Fiyero compared to all the other faes.

I also noticed how these four women each wore a crown upon their heads. I turned to see Fiyero bowing to these four women, I began to realize that these four must be the Queens. I bowed in respect as well and that’s when I felt a hand under my chin.

It was the Spring Fae Queen and with her gentle green eyes she looked down at me with a motherly gaze as she sung to me. Her beautiful dark brown hair was like looking at the very earth at the ground, and with her spring flower crown decorating her hair, it just made her dark hair pop out even more.

*Faes*

Where the north wind meets the sea

*Fae Queens*

Ah ah ah ah

*Faes*

There's a river

*Fae Queens*

Ah ah ah ah

*Faes*

Full of memory

*Spring Fae Queen*

Come, my darling, homeward bound

*Me*

I am found!

For some reason I felt tears in my eyes but I sung out proudly and that’s when the four Queens allowed me in their circle. The Spring fae Queen first gifted me with a flower necklace that was a beautiful pink color.

The Summer Queen with a fire igniting from her hands, forced my hair to come undone from my braid and finally be long and flowing like fire itself. She even gave my hair some bright red highlights that almost resembled fire across the field.

The Autumn Queen soon came up and gifted me with two bracelets made of twig and she used the air to bring some Autumn leaves to decorate the bracelets. I even saw how along my arms a pattern of golden leaves were imprinted into my skin, kinda like a tattoo.

The Winter Queen changed my entire outfit into a pure snow white dress, but at the bottom of the dress it was an indigo color. It was also decorated with snowflake crystals of white, blue and indigo. And on the back it even had two wing-like flaps that came out of the shoulders.

The millions and millions of tiny Faes then began to circle me and as fairy dust came down upon me, I felt myself lifting into the air and I was soon spinning around like a top. I closed my eyes as I allowed the faes voices surround me and envelope my very soul.

It was like being wrapped in a blanket of warmth and love.

I would join in with the faes whenever I could as I raised my arms over my head and my hair rose high above me. With one final loud vocalization from me, fairy magic exploded across the land.

*All*

Show yourself Step into your power Grow yourself Into something new

*Fae Queens*

You are the one we've been waiting for

*Seasonal faes*

All of our lives

*Me*

All of your life

Oh, show yourself

*Faes*

Ah ah

Ah ah ah ah

*Me*

Ah ah ah ah

Soon I was gently lowered back to the ground as all the faes fluttered all over the place and the four Queens stood before me.

“We thank you again dear one. For you have freed us from the wrath of the Wicked Witch of the East.” The Spring Queen said with a voice that warm and sweet just like honey.

“And from each of us, we have bestowed upon you a Faes life force. Should the time come, our magic will help heal any wound or brink of death you may encounter.” The Winter Queen told me. Her white hair resembled the snow in winter and her icy blue eyes held such warmth.

“Let the news be spread far and wide from every far reaches of our Fae kingdoms,” the Autumn Queen first started off.

“The Wicked old Witch at last is dead!” the Summer Queen finished as she raised her arm high over and shot a fireball into the air. All the fairies cheered and rejoiced.

Fiyero came up to me and placed a hand to my shoulder smiling down at me.

“Being gifted by the Fae Queens is a most powerful thing. You should be considered lucky.” I nodded and I bowed to the four Queens again and said.

“Thank you, your majesties. I shall treasure your trust and gift forever.”

Suddenly out of nowhere an explosion happened right in the middle of the fae kingdom. An evil red smoke soon exploded out and an awful smell took over the air. All the faes soon took off fleeing back to their hiding places and there stood an evil looking man.

He was dressed in a full black Warlock robes and held a broomstick in his hand. His green skin was like the grassy fields back home and his eyes were gleaming with hatred right at me. The 4 Queens and Fiyero all stood protectively around me as the green warlock walked towards the feet that were sticking out from my house.

“I—I thought you said the Witch was dead.”

“That was his sister. This creature is the Wicked Warlock of the West. And he’s far worse than his sister was.” Fiyero said to me.

“Who killed my sister? Who killed the Witch of the East? Was it you?!” the Warlock of the West said as he slinked towards us before glaring right down at me.

“No. No it was an accident. I didn’t mean to kill anyone!” I said fearfully.

“Well my little lass. I can cause accidents too!”

“Aren’t you forgetting the Ruby slippers?” the Spring fae Queen asked.

“The slippers, yes!” the Warlock of the West said. He turned back towards his sister’s feet. Next thing we saw, the slippers disappeared and the feet curled in before disappearing underneath my house. “They’re gone! The ruby slippers. What have you done with them? Give them back to me or I’ll—”

“It’s too late. There they are, and there they’ll stay.” Fiyero said as he wand pointed down toward my feet. I looked down and gasped.

My normal shoes had now been replaced by the witch’s ruby slippers.

“Give me back my slippers. I’m the only one who knows how to use them. They’re of no use to you. Give them back to me. Give them back!”

“Keep tightly inside of them my dear. Their magic must be very powerful, or he wouldn’t want them so badly.” The Summer queen warned me.

“You females stay out of this. Same with you Fiyero! Or I’ll fix you as well.”

“Ha! Rubbish green-meanie! You have no power here. Now fly off! Before someone drops a house on you too!” Fiyero laughed. The Warlock suddenly grew fearful as he looked up at the sky for a moment before looking back at us.

“Very well, I’ll bide my time. And as for you my little lass. It’s true I cannot rid of you here as I’d like but just try to stay out of my way. Just try. I’ll get you my pretty, and you’re little dog too!” I looked down at Toto who was hiding behind my legs.

I quickly grabbed him and held him in my arms as the Warlock of the West let out a sinister cackle before moving away from us and disappearing into red smoke and fire. We all heard the fearful exclaims of the other faes.

“It’s alright now you may come back out. He’s gone.” The Spring queen assured all the faes.

“It’s alright. He’s gone. You may come back out.” The Winter queen spoke out as well. Fiyero waved his hand in front of his nose and said.

“Ugh what a rotten smell of sulfur. I’m afraid you’ve made a rather nasty enemy out of the Warlock of the West. The sooner you return home safe and sound, the safer you’ll sleep at night my darling.” He stroked a strand of my hair out of my face.

“I’d give anything to get home all together. But…..which way is the way back to Wales? I can’t go the way I came.”

“No indeed not. The only person who might be able to help you, would be the Great and benevolent Wizard of Oz himself.” At the mention of that name. the Fae Queens and all the fairies bowed their heads.

“Wizard of Oz? Is he good or is he wicked?”

“Oh very good but very mysterious. He lives in the Emerald City and that’s a long ways from here. Did you bring your broomstick with you?” I grinned sheepishly.

“No I’m afraid not.” I admitted shyly.

“Well then you’ll have to walk. The faes will see you safely out of the borders of their land. And remember; never let those ruby slippers off your feet for a moment. Or you will be at the mercy of the Wicked Warlock of the West.” Fiyero said as he led me across the garden before standing in front of me and giving me a kiss on each cheek.

“Okay but—how do I get to Emerald City?”

“It’s always best to start at the beginning. And all you have to do, is follow the yellow brick road.” He said going a grand gesture towards the trail of yellow bricks.

I hesitantly walked towards it before turning back towards Fiyero and asked him.

“But what happens if—”

“Just follow the yellow brick road my darling.” He said with a smile and a wink. Then he transformed back into his crystal ball and it began to shrink as it floated off back towards the sky. All the while some of the faes flying behind him waving goodbye.

“Damn. People come and go so quickly around here don’t they?” the faes all nodded.

“Here, let’s get you back into your normal clothes. Those aren’t really meant for traveling.” The Winter Queen said and with a twirl of her hand, the dress disappeared and my normal clothes came back. I also took notice that the Autumn leaves along my arm had also disappeared, and when I looked at my hair, the red highlights were gone as well.

“Wait, did you…..”

“No my dear. You still have our ties to you. It’s best to keep Fae magic outside of our kingdom a secret. Anyone with the gift of the faes becomes a target and you’ve already become one for the Warlock of the West.” The Autumn Queen told me.

“But if you do need to prove yourself protected by the Four Fae Queens, just touch the necklace of earth I’ve gifted you and your protection marks will come forth.” The Spring Queen assured me.

I nodded before looking down at the point where the yellow brick road started.

“Follow the yellow brick road.” I said to myself as I slowly began walking the spiral of the road. “Follow the yellow brick road.”

“Follow the yellow brick road.” The Autumn Queen told me. I looked at her and she nodded as I continued to walk along the Yellow brick road. All the while I could hear the other Queens tell me to follow the Yellow Brick road.

Soon the faes all began to sing as I walked along the trail before some of the Spring faes held out some violins and began playing them as they continued to sing as the Queens soon came up alongside me and we all skipped down the road.

Follow the yellow brick road Follow the yellow brick road Follow follow follow follow

Follow the yellow brick road Follow the yellow brick

Follow the yellow brick

Follow the yellow brick road

You're off to see the wizard

The wonderful wizard of oz You'll find he is the wizard of wiz

If ever a wiz there was, If ever or ever a wizard that was The wizard of oz is one because,

Because, because, because, because,

Because, because of the wonderful things he does You're off to see the wizard

The wonderful wizard of oz

When I reached the borders of the Fae kingdom, they all stopped as I continued to skip along ahead with Toto right at my feet. I briefly stopped and turned to bid the fairies goodbye. They all waved goodbye to me and I blew them a kiss before continuing down the Yellow brick road.

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avengerscompound · 6 years ago

Text

Snapshots - Four

Snapshots: A Bucky Barnes Fanfic

Series Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Word Count: 2269

Rating: E

Square filled: @buckybarnesbingo, Y4 Reunion

Warnings: Smut (M|F rushed virginity loss, vaginal sex)

Synopsis: Before Bucky Barnes became the Winter Soldier he had a life and plans for the future. A lot of them involving you.

Bucky returns home after his training. With his deployment a day away he just wants to have some fun but nothing seems to go his way.

Four

You were running late. You’d been on Summer Vacation for a few weeks now and the internship you’d gotten with Stark Industries had brought you home to Brooklyn for the Stark Expo. Last night work had kept you late which had led to you sleeping in today. Trying to rush to get ready had not helped at all and just meant you had to reapply your makeup three times before you actually made it out of the door.

You almost slammed directly into Bucky Barnes as he was coming into your building. It took you a moment to realize it was even him. You hadn’t seen him in two years and had no idea he was back from his training. He was in full uniform and looking just as handsome and cocky as ever. Maybe more so. The uniform fit perfectly.

“Bucky?” You asked still slightly bewildered.

“Hi, doll.” He said, that same beautiful Bucky Barnes smile he always had spread over his face.

“Bucky!” You squeaked when it finally kicked into place and you slammed into him, wrapping your arms around his waist and burying your face in his chest.

His arms closed around you and he leaned his cheek on you. He’d been writing to you. Not regularly by any means. But every month or two you’d get a letter delivered to you at college telling you how things were going in the Army. How he’d made Sergeant. Asking about how you were. Or about your studies. Often he’d ask about Steve.

“I didn’t know you were getting in. How long will you be here?” You asked.

“Just today. I ship out tomorrow.” He said. You squeaked again and held him even tighter, blinking back the tears that were threatening to break.

“No.” You said. “But that’s not enough time.”

“I know it’s not.” He said. “But that’s the way it goes. I was hoping I might be able to take you out tonight. Maybe we could double with Steve?”

You groaned and pulled away from him. “I can’t. I have work.”

“Can’t you call in sick?” Bucky whined, tugging on your skirt.

You winced. You wanted to. You really, really wanted to. It had been so long and getting to hang out with him and Steve like you used to, would be so good. Plus there was the whole, complicated feelings thing you wanted to work out and he was shipping out. You wanted to go with him.

But this internship was one of the most prestigious ones around. They never gave them to women. You were extremely lucky to have it and you couldn’t risk it.

“I can’t. It’s not a paper run. It’s with Stark.”

“You got it?” He asked, his eyes lighting up. “Really?”

You smiled at him feeling a little warm inside. He was proud of you. You hadn’t expected that. “Yeah. I’ve been working for them for about a month.”

He pulled you into a tight hug and you melted into him. “Maybe I can see you when you’re done?”

You looked up at him. “Oh. Yes.” You pulled back and dug around in your bag, pulling out a handful of tickets. “These are to the Stark Expo. Bring people.”

“Thanks, doll,” He said and tucked them in his jacket.

“I gotta go, I’m already late. I don’t finish until it closes. Find me after.” You said.

“Will do,” He said as you dashed down the steps. As you turned and made your way up the street he called after you. “Do you know where Steve is? I went to his place and he was out.”

“Try the cinema. He likes to catch the newsreels.” You yelled back without breaking your stride.

The Expo hadn’t wound up until late and you’d ended up being walked home by a few of the men who were working as interns too. You’d stayed up for a while waiting for Bucky, but as the night became the next morning you gave up waiting.

As you dozed on your couch, your heart felt heavy. Of course, Bucky didn't owe you anything. You had always made it extremely clear that you and he were not an item. He had probably gone on the double date with Steve that he'd wanted to and he'd gotten lucky or he was getting lucky now. Of course, he would. He was shipping out tomorrow. He should have fun.

You just wished you'd gotten to say goodbye.

You weren't sure if you were asleep already or if you were just almost asleep when there was a tapping on glass that snapped you awake. You jumped up and rushed to the window, letting in Bucky who was peering in from the fire escape.

“Boy, am I glad you weren't in bed yet.” He whispered as he climbed inside.

“What are you doing here? I thought you must have decided not to come.”

Bucky went to answer, but you shushed him and hurried him to your room, closing the door behind you. “Dad sleeps pretty soundly but you still better keep it down.” You whispered.

Bucky took off his hat and put it on your desk and started to take off his jacket. “Sorry, I'm so late.” He said quietly. “Steve and I took a couple of gals to the Expo. Man, you work there? I couldn't believe my eyes. That flying car! I bet everyone will be in flying cars after the war is done.”

“So you came here when you were done with your date? Thanks, Buck. Way to make a girl feel special.”

“Oh hey, now. It's not like that,” he said. He shrugged off the jacket and hung it on the back of your chair before approaching you and running his hands down your arms.

“Oh yeah? What is it like?”

Some of the light seemed to go out of his eyes and he sat down on the edge of your bed like the wind has been knocked out of him. He sighed and ran his hands through his hair.

“I wanted to have some fun you know? One last night out with my best friend. I asked these girls. Connie and Bonnie. Only Connie wouldn't even look twice at Steve. I tried to get him to have fun, but the colder Connie was the more shut off Steve became. Then he decided he was gonna just ditch us and try and enlist again.” His voice broke at the end and you sat beside him and wrapped your arm around his shoulders. He leaned against you, letting your take his full weight. “I just wanted to have some fun. To dance a bit and be with my best friend. And the little punk couldn’t even go one day without committing a felony.”

“Well, it’s Steve. You know what he’s like.” You said rubbing his back.

“I just wanted one night.” He said nuzzling at your neck. “What if I don’t come back? What if the last time I see Steve it’s him telling me that trying to sign up for the army is more important than me?”

“Why didn’t you just find him after? He’s done this so many times. He’s normally around sulking after.” You said. “Or me? I was waiting for you.”

“I tried to find him. I don’t know where he went. Maybe they caught him and he’s in jail. Fuck. What if the last time I saw Steve was before he got put in prison?” His arm had draped over your stomach and his hand opened and closed on your hip. “I went dancing with Connie and Bonnie. I just wanted one good night to look back on. I’m sorry I didn’t find you.”

You shook your head. “It’s fine. What happened with Connie and Bonnie?”

“We danced. I walked them home.”

“Oh yeah, right.” You scoffed.

“I did. You want to know the truth, doll? I pretty much only ever walk them home.” He said.

“Oh, you liar.” You teased, pushing him a little.

“It’s true,” Bucky said with a hollow laugh. He flopped back on your bed and pulled his hair. “Oh, I mean, I’ve felt a few girls up, but I don’t wanna ruin anyone’s reputation. I’ve seen too many girls sent upstate to live with their aunts.”

You lay down next to him and faced him. “You know everyone thinks you did, right? Any girl who went out with you knew exactly what you were doing to their reputation.”

“Yeah, I know. And ain’t that a peach? Everyone thinks I screwed my way through half of Brooklyn and now I’m gonna go get myself killed as a virgin.”

“You’re not going to die, Bucky.”

“Yeah, think positive, doll,” He said.

“Bucky,” You said, reaching over and caressing your cheek.

“I was so excited about today. It was going so well. I just feel like this is all some kind of sign.” He said.

There was something about the pain in his voice that made you so badly want to make this okay. You didn’t know how to do it though. So you leaned in and kissed him. His hand went to your hair and he deepened the kiss. A small hum escaped your lips and you started to tug his tie off.

He pulled back and looked at you. “You don’t have to do this.” He said. “I don’t want to get you, of all people, in any trouble.”

You shook your head and kissed his neck, your fingers moving a little more frantically this time. “We can be careful. Besides, you said you were gonna marry me. This just means you have to come back and make an honest woman out of me.”

He chuckled softly and his hands ran up under your nightdress and skimmed over your ass. You frantically unbuttoned his shirt and started working on his belt.

Something about your frenzied need to show him that everything would be okay in this broken and ridiculous way rubbed off on him. He rolled over and pulled your nightdress off before resuming kissing you hungrily. He groaned and began to grind down against you, his cock hardening and straining at the thick fabric of his pants.

Your whole body trembled like a small electric current was running through it. You freed his cock and pushed his pants down. He groaned as he rubbed his erection against the thin fabric of your panties.

“You sure you want this?” He whispered as he rutted his hips against you.

“Yes. Yes, Bucky. Let’s be each other’s firsts.”

He pulled your panties down and lined his cock up with your entrance. He buried his face in the side of your neck, breathing heavily. “And last, doll.” He whispered and thrust into you.

You winced and made a pained noise as he’s body tore into yours, a sharp pain bursting in your cunt. He pulled back and looked down at you. “Did I hurt you?”

You furrowed your brow. “Just give me a second.”

He slowed and began to kiss you deeply, his hands running over your body. As you adjusted and the pain began to subside you rolled your hips up and he began to thrust. It was fast and erratic. Neither of you really knowing what you were doing, while you both tried to keep quiet. Your bedsprings creaked and in the back of your head, you worried your dad would hear you. Mostly, you just wanted Bucky to feel something good on his last day. To have something to take with him that meant something.

Has his breath became shallow he pulled out and came on your stomach in hot ribbons before collapsing down beside you. You grabbed some tissues and wiped your stomach clean before curling up in his arms.

“Was it okay? Did it hurt?” He whispered.

“I’m okay. It was fine, Buck.” You replied.

He started to cry against your neck and you held him close rubbing his back. “I’m so scared.”

“I know. But now you have to come back, don’t you?”

He nodded. “You’re gonna be my wife. You’ll wait for me?”

You kissed his brow and then his lips. “Yeah, Buck. I’ll wait for you. I’m gonna be a famous scientist and you’re gonna be my toy boy.”

He chuckled through his tears and wiped his eyes. “Can you try and find Steve tomorrow. He’s gonna be angry about not being able to go.”

You nodded. “Yeah. I’ll track him down.”

The two of you dozed in each other's arms for a few hours before he snuck out while it was still dark. Before he left the two of you stood by the window, him cupping your jaw and looking down at you. “I love you. I always meant it when I said I wanted to marry you.”

You nodded. “I know, Buck. I love you too. Come back and we’ll have that life.”

He leaned in and kissed you deeply. Everything her felt poured out of that kiss. His fear, his love, the melancholy that you’d only reached this stage together when he had to leave again. When he let you go he climbed out through the window and you watched him jog off down the street.

You never did track Steve Rogers down the next day, though you did see the rather changed version of him on new reels. Bucky Barnes wrote you from the frontlines, but the last time you ever saw him, was when his shadow disappeared up your street in the small hours of the morning.

~ END ~

#buckybarnesbingo2019 #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #the winter soldier #the winter soldier fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #smut #angst #snapshots

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cutmyhairabovemyjaw · 6 years ago

Text

Heaven and Hell Bound - Tommy Shelby ~ Part 5

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Hi Guys. Thank you so much for the love and comments, they truly brighten my day. During this part I decided to include some reference pictures of how I envision the clothing during certain scenes in this chapter. Let me know how you feel about these and if you’d like to see more or less of them.

After this part there will be one more chapter set during the war before we move into Birmingham which will loosely follow Season 1 of the show. I’ve been thinking of trying out requests for one-shots with different characters from the show and others. Let me know if you’d be interested in that :) Hope you enjoy reading part 5 and again, any feedback is most welcome. <3 <3.

Tags:

@namelesslosers

Part 5 - The Dance

Y/N’s POV

It had been a month since Tommy was brought to the hospital, a month since I heard his screams, a month since I felt his kiss. And there had not been a single night in which my head was not stormed by thoughts of him. I craved his touch, his smile, his caress. I had written him quickly, just as he had asked. We talked of the mundane, of the gruesome, of the merry. My diary was now filled with sketches he’d drawn and photos he’d sent. Most recently, however, he had requested that I send through one of my nurses ribbons. I was puzzled as to why he would wish for something as plain and simple as this.

“My dearest Y/N,

Please forgive my selfishness as, yet again, I ask for a piece of you. Whilst your photo sits forever in my pocket, I must find some rare time to pause and peacefully admire it. I noticed on my last hospital visit that all the nurses wear white ribbons somewhere on their person. I have had the pleasure of seeing you wear it in your hair and around your delicate wrist. I ask because many soldiers whose lovers volunteer as nurses, tie this ribbon in with the shoelaces on their boots. The idea is that as we soldiers look down at our feet and into the hell we may soon occupy, an angel stops us on our way. Perhaps you are not my lover yet but you are my angel. The Christmas Ball ever approaches. I believe the invitations shall arrive within the next week. I look forward to seeing you there. If you get invited that is. Perhaps the goblin matron of yours wants you all to herself.

Sincerely,

Your Tommy.”

His angel. That’s what he called me. I still believe that my eyes were deceiving me as I read and continued to re-read those words. I sent one away at once. If I could supply any hope or relief in his darkest times, I would gladly do so. Anything to see that stupid perfect smile of his. He was right about the invitations. In fact they arrived the following morning. And when they did, we all got very excited, perhaps Rosaline a little too much.

We sat upon our hill, the freshly delivered mail buzzing in our hands. The air seemed sweeter and the sun brighter as everyone in the hospital radiated excitement as the beautiful red envelopes graced the grey and brown hospital. It seems this year the higher ups have decided to use the annual Christmas ceasefire to up morale. It was nice to see some smiles around here. “You ready?” Ro asks me, her smile wider than before, if that were even possible. I look to her and nod, my eyes wide and ready. Ro tears into the envelope, erratically pulling and tearing, turning the once solid paper into confetti shreds. I laugh before carefully peeling the seal back, trying to preserve the item as best I can, knowing I will want it in it’s best condition for my diary. We simultaneously pull out the letter and read the message.

“Dear service Men and Women,

It is with great pleasure that we invite you to the 1916 Allied Christmas Ball. As a reward for bravely fighting for your king you will enjoy a night of dancing, singing and drinking followed by the second day of the two-day cease fire. Provisions have been provided by the Crown and the public. Formal uniform is expected.

God Save The King.”

I jump as from beside me I hear Ro let out a loud holler of joy and enthusiasm. I laugh and join her as we cheer into the sky. “You know what this means Y/N?” She leans forward, eyes wild. “Oh boy” I say in preparation for her explosion of joy, knowing what is to come next. “Dress up time!” We hoot and holler once more, taking full advantage of this moment. We burst into laughter. Whilst I had grown up on rural farm land with little time for glitz and glam, Rosaline was born into a family which lay on the wealthier side of things. Whilst she rebelled against many aspects of it, she was infatuated with fashion and beauty. One of our many post-war dreams was to attend the most extravagant regal event and cause havoc whilst donning dazzlingly expensive gowns. Whilst this wasn’t exactly that, Ro would make it work. “I’m going to give Tommy the most beautiful date of them all!” She declares, like a Queen to her kingdom. I laugh, the alien feeling of my cheeks hurting from smiling returning for the first time since the war began. She pulls me to my feet and begins to twirl me around, a horrible version of ballroom dancing does ensue. “You two will dance into the night, twirling, giggling, and drinking the whole way through. Before he finally seals the night with true-love's kiss” She puckers her lips out comically. I smash by hand against her mouth and she slobbers on my palm. “ Oh Jesus Ro gross.” I wipe my spit covered hand against my apron. “And then,” she continues, my anxieties growing, fearing what words may following next, “He fucks you well into the night as you howl his name down-” This time I firmly plant my hand over her lips, silencing her ridiculous statement. “Shut the fuck up Ro” I shout-whisper to her, my eyes wide and a blush rampant on my cheeks. I remove my hand, letting out the wild laughter Rosaline had produced. I sigh, shaking my head in shame trying to ignore all of the horrified looks the other nurses were giving us. I let out a small chuckle. “You’re ridiculous you know. Completely and utterly ridiculous.” I say, every word I utter is followed by a small jab to her stomach with my finger, using her ticklish nature to my advantage. “Ok! Ok! I’m sorry,” she surrenders to my actions, “It’s true though”. I simply shake my head once more. Of course I’d had my fair share of intimate thoughts of Tommy, but it was nothing more than a fantasy. Perhaps he shared these thoughts. Perhaps he wished to enact them. Fuck what am I thinking. He might not even dance with me… I hope he does. “Well come on Y/N. We’ve only got a week to prepare so let’s go!” She pulls me out of my train of thought both with her words and her hand which now drags me towards the hospital tent. I still have not decided upon how I feel about the Christmas Ball. Part of me dreads it with my whole existence whilst the other has never been more excited about anything.

The first day of the cease fire had dawned. The peace was unfamiliar, almost unsettling as opposed to the normalised violence of every other day. And with it, the cease fire brought the dreaded Christmas Ball. The nurses gossiped amongst themselves, sharing around what little makeup and products they had managed to keep. Practically every second word that were freed from Rosaline’s brain had something to do with the ball or the dressing up. I was happy for her. She deserved to be happy and play fashion, not to encounter death and sadness on the daily.

Rosaline had already gotten herself ready. She radiated perfect beauty as her red lipstick and black mascara accentuated her doe-eyed complexion. Her ginger hair flowing by her waist as opposed to the tight bun it normally found itself in. As we stood in front of her small mirror, the juxtaposition of complete beauty and myself was accentuated. I wallowed in my gloomy insecurity, looking down to avoid the striking gaze of the mirror. How was I supposed to compare to someone like Ro. How was I supposed to impress someone like Tommy. I felt two small warm hands guide me out of the depths of my brain as Rosaline now held my face. “Y/N listen to me hey? Just listen. When you guys first saw each other you stood still, blown away by each others beauty. And guess what you both looked like? You were in your uniform, you were sweaty and covered in all kinds of gross shit like vomit and blood. And Tommy? He’d just dragged John out of a tunnel so he was covered in bloody dirt and muck and was the most dishevelled we’ll probably ever see him. You guys fell in love while kinda looking like shit.” We laugh, I begin to understand what she’s saying. She continues on, smiling proud, knowing she’d won me over, “He’s going to think you’re absolutely beautiful, ok? Hell everyone’s going to think that. We’ll walk into that ball, arms locked together and stun them into silence. Perhaps a few may even cry,” she proclaims rather melodramatically. I smile, rolling my eyes at her antics. I turn to hug her, grateful for her love. She sits me down in a nearby chair. “Now come on, we’ll miss the bloody thing if we take much longer.” Perhaps he will find me beautiful.

Tommy’s POV

I stand in front of the dirty, sorry excuse we have for a mirror, fiddling with my tie and the buckles on my sleeves. I try, to no avail, to slick my hair back, push it to the side, I try everything to make it decent. Frustration fills me as I wipe my hands down my face. “Fucking fuck it” I exhale. What is she gonna think of the bloody mess that I am. I slam my hat down onto my head, sitting on my bunk to begin to tie my boots. That’s when I see it once more. Y/N’s ribbon. I take it gently between my fingers, closing my eyes and remembering her. I shall not ruin a night that could be filled with her smile, her touch, her eyes, with my silly insecurities. I hear the tent flap bustling as it is pushed open. I look up to see Arthur and John, dressed in the same garb as myself. “Tommy, they are uh, they’ve given the order to start heading off” he says kindly, holding his cap, fidgeting with his fingers. I blink slowly, nodding whilst looking to the ground. I wave one hand, gesturing to them that I’ll catch up. They look to each other, reading the worry written on my face. John moves to sit next to me putting his hand on my shoulder. “Tommy,” he says, the toothpick bouncing between his teeth and lips, “look mate, everything’s gonna be fine. You look fucking ugly as normal.” He laughs, I shoved his shoulder. “Come on now John Boy, tell him the truth” Arthur smiles at his younger brothers. “You look great Tom and she’s gonna look beautiful. So if you don’t get your sorry ass out there, every other fucking guy’s gonna dance with her. And we can’t have that now can we now Arthur”, “No John, course we can’t have that. Plus,” Arthur continues, a smugness tugging at his tongue, “What use would we have for this otherwise?” He pulls out a flask, whiskey no doubt dancing in the bottle. “Now come on, drink up, the Shelby brothers have got some work to do” he proclaims. I stand and laugh. I’d spent the last week dreaming of how this night will go. How’d she look. How’d we dance, drink and smoke. Perhaps even get close. Oh Y/N, what are you doing to me.

Y/N’s POV

An hour later we stand in front of the mirror once more, this time, surprisingly happy thoughts made their way through my mind. Our formal attire projected elegance as our normal uniform paled in comparison. It was clean, shapely, and flattering. Whilst the veil was slightly uncomfortable I had a plan for that. Once everyone had gotten drunk of booze and dancing, no one would pay any mind to a missing veil or two. Rosaline had given me very similar makeup to hers, carving stark black lines around my eyes, and a scarlet scenery to the hills and crests of my lips. If the notion of the fighting starting up again in two days was not present, perhaps truly good fun could be had, and true happiness could be felt. I stop myself from dwelling on this, everyday could be our last, and if my last involves dancing and Tommy that’s fine by me. “Ladies start filling through to the tent please!” Rosaline and I turn to the source of the noise, a high ranking soldier gives the order. A wave of cheering pours out from the nurses. A smile breaks onto my face. “Well come on then slow poke!” Ro runs forward, dragging me by my hand. “Wait wait wait! I have something for Tommy.” I run back, reaching into my diary, pulling out the small origami horse I had made for him. Quickly, I place it in my pocket before Rosaline’s beady eyes could ask any questions. “Ok. Let’s do this”. We loop our arms together. Our heads high. Stepping in time. We will take on the world, or at least the dance floor.

(Y/N’s POV on left, Tommy’s bumped to the right)

I finally catch a glimpse of the massive white tent which would soon house many a drunkard soldier and stumbling nurse. It seems they collected every light source from every bunk as the scene was set alight with beautiful bulbs and strings. It reminded me of one of those fancy christmas trees I would ogle at in shop windows. The music filled my ears, as did the tapping of shoes, and harmonized singing. A makeshift bar had been set up, tables and chairs too. My heart swells with excitement as Ro and I beam with joy. I hadn’t spotted Tommy yet, and it may yet be a task to do so as more and more people crowd in.

“Oi Oi!” Arthur yells as we enter the large tent. “It’s a fucking riot in here ain’t it” John speaks, before spitting on the floor. I watch as the dancing erupts onto the floor, amused by the singing antics of the already drunk. “Look at some of the birds in here mate. You’d have to pay a pretty penny to get with one of them back in Small Heath.” Arthur drools over the women, the party letting out the beast in some of them. “Well boys,” I begin, lighting my cigarette, “Go get drunk, get into as many fights as you can and go for any woman you like. Just not mine.” John whoops and claps, “Thatta Boy Tommy. Now John Boy, we’ve got some work to do.” They walk off, leaving me to myself.

“This is amazing Y/N! Have you seen some of the blokes in here?” Rosaline exclaims to me. Turns out her lover Edward hadn’t died, rather he’d being fucking their resident nurse over there. Nothing motivates Rosaline quite like revenge with a side of free drink. “Go have fun Ro. You deserve it.” I spur her on, knowing she ached for some fun and freedom. “You sure you’ll be ok?” I nod in response. “Now go you bloody minx, go!” I push her towards the group of dancing soldiers. I laugh and make my way to the bar. Besides I had a mission of my own.

Find Tommy.

Find Y/N. That’s what I had to do. I walk through the dance floor, noticing her friend Rosaline tearing up a storm. Yet my Y/N was not with her. Come on Y/N. I kept walking making my way to the rudimentary bar. Please be there.

I sat at the bar, not yet finding Thomas. Perhaps he’d been dancing. I smile at the thought. The night had only begun, I mustn't worry now. I begin to make my way over to the dancing circle. Come on Tommy, where are you?

3rd Person POV

Little did they know at this point that they had both been looking for each other.

Little did they know they were headed straight for one another.

In a parting of the crowds filled with dancing drunks, they saw each other.

Their eyes meeting, just as they had that fateful first day.

He looked unbelievably handsome.

She was breathtakingly beautiful.

They swam in each other’s eyes.

Silence filled their ears.

They peered each other up and down, taking in their elegant costume.

Neither of their feet moved.

For all one knows their hearts were beating too fast, or perhaps not beating at all.

Instead she waved.

A small flick of the fingers and a smile.

He laughs and returns the gesture.

As they walk to each other, the same thought plagues their minds.

Maybe tonight I’ll tell him.

Maybe tonight I’ll tell her.

Y/N’s POV.

We now stand face to face, awe spread across my cheeks. He looks at me with the biggest smile I’ve seen painting his profile. “Hello Sergeant Major Thomas Shelby”, I courtesy, deciding to play into this royal fantasy that our outfits created. “Why, you look ravishing Sister Y/N L/N”, he bows, taking one of my hands and places a gentle kiss on it. “Fuck off Tom”, we both laugh, he extends his arm for me to take hold of. I gladly do so. We wander together this time to the bar, taking a seat on the crates that had been scrounged together. “Two Whiskeys please” Tommy orders, leaning his elbow on the table. “So, I see that Rosaline is quite the dancer.” We look out, watching her as she flows from soldier to soldier, her skirt twirling and her hair flowing. “Oh yeah. I feel bad for any other girl that even attempts to get on that dance floor.” I respond, proud of my best friend and she wraps all those boys around her finger. “And what about you Y/N, do you dance?” he asks, grabbing his glass of now delivered whiskey as I do the same. I leaned forward and new wave of air taking over me, “Wouldn’t you like to know.” He smirks, playfully scoffing. “Well then,” He downs his whole glass, slamming it on the table before standing up, offering a hand to me. I following his actions, chugging my drink before hammering my glass down, taking his hand. “Let’s put you to the test then hey?”

We danced and danced and danced. We danced wildly, we danced passionately, we danced carefully. My head was now rested upon his shoulder as we swayed in each other’s arms. Our eyes rest closed, not a care in the world. I feel the vibrations in his chest as he hums along to the music. The party had well and truly died down. People had either gone back to their bunks, had collapsed on the floor or were savouring the last dance. Over the course of the night I had met Arthur and John, they were bruised and bleeding after just getting out of a fight of course, I’d drank way too much and blisters covered my feet from dancing. But I didn’t care. It was a perfect evening with Tommy. He called me beautiful, he’d kissed my cheek. I wonder if my face was now stained red, a blush had become a regular to cross my face. I looked up to admire him, his eyes still calm and closed. I had utterly and completely fallen for Thomas Shelby. But this thought brought more sadness with it than I anticipated. Tommy was a soldier, everyday could be his last. If he makes it home we live in different towns. We had completely foreign lives back in England. I worry that the intensity of the war had amplified our feelings, meaning outside of the fighting, there would be none. I fear I care for him more than he cares for me. I squeeze him tight, not ever wanting to let go. He opens his eyes and squeezes back, looking down to me worried. “You ok pretty girl?” He asks letting go of my hand and waist and instead, places his hands on my cheeks. I meet his blue-sky eyes and sigh into his touch, resting my hand on top of his. “I’m ok, just worrying about silly future stuff.” He laughs, “Silly future stuff hey? Don’t worry about that hey, just enjoy right now. That’s what they teach you down in the tunnels. Think about living now, in this very minute, the soldier’s minute. Just you and me hey?” I nodded timidly, his beauty still making me shy. We dance for a few moments more, savouring every touch and every look.

“Y/N?” I hear Rosaline call from behind me, a slight slur to her words. I turn to see her and a soldier practically holding each other up. “Me and this Noah here are heading back to our bunk. So uh...you might wanna find somewhere else to sleep…” They giggle amongst themselves. I roll my eyes, both happy she’s having fun, but not so happy about sleeping someplace else. “Play nice Rosaline. Now go on, have fun,” they cheer and smile to each other before turning around and stumbling out. “And no fun on my bunk!” I add. “No promises!” She yells back. “Cheeky fucker” I whisper to Tom. He laughs in response. “So where will you go now?” he asks, concern lacing his voice. “Well I suppose one of the hospital bunks will probably be free…” I kick my feet against the ground, realising how uncomfortable it will be. “I uh, I might have a solution,” he begins, scratching the back of his head, “John and Arthur have both gone back to their girl’s rooms, therefore...Why not stay with me?” My eyes fly up to meet his, “Really!” He laughs at my excitement. “I-i mean if that’s ok with you. I don’t want to intrude”, I stammer on, embarrassed by my reaction. He leans his forehead on to mine, “Y/N?” I hum in response, “Shut up” he jests. I laugh trying to brush away awkwardness. “Now come on, before any other drunk offers you their bunk.”

We walk hand in hand, enjoying the silence all the way back to his bunk. As I enter the space I take in my surroundings. I notice the 3 small bunks, one for each brother. I watch Tommy sit on the furthest bunk and begin to take his boots off. I walk over to join him, analysing what trinkets lay on his table. I try to remember everything. A diary, papers, cigarettes and matches, a knife and photographs, many many photographs. I flick through them, observing a younger Tommy surrounded by his family. I attempt to match the names Thomas had given me to the faces in the photos. Ada, Polly, Finn. They looked happy... I hope my present would fit perfectly within the decor of his table. “Tommy,” I begin, turning towards him, my hands clasped behind me to try and hide my nervousness. He was now wearing only his sleep shirt, and his trousers. He meets my eyes but I can’t help but look him up and down. He steps towards me, nodding for me to continue. “I have a Christmas present for you.” His eyes widen, a confused smile tugs on his lips. “A Christmas present?” I nod, now excited. “Sit down and close your eyes” I order, pulling him back to the bed. I sit next to him, waiting for him to do the same. “Now stop looking at me and close your eyes.” He leans forward, still experiencing the waves of alcohol “You’re so pretty tho” he drags out the last syllable. “Tommy close your eyes and put your hands out” He still leans towards me, “Now”. He huffs and finally does so. I gently pull out the origami horse from my pocket, laying it in his hands. I watch his fingers jolt slightly at the feeling. “Ok, now you can open.” His eyes open, yet he sits silently, taking the horse in his fingers, examining it closer.

I can’t read the expression on his face and I begin to worry. “I’m sorry, I know it’s stupid I shouldn’t have-” He cuts me off. But not with his words. With his lips. My eyes stare wide, shocked at the action before I melt into the kiss. It’s perfect. It’s everything Rosaline describes from her romance book. It’s everything my dreams had wished for. After what feels like hours, we pull apart. “Thank you Y/N. I-i I don’t even know what to say.” Thomas speaks quietly, a loving softness to his voice. “You’re welcome Tommy. It’s a thank you for all that you’ve done for me.” He places it upon his desk, admiring it for the moment. “Would you mind if we lay down...together” He asks, his eyes pleading for a yes. I can’t seem to form words at this point. Instead I simply nod. We get comfortable, I removed my shoes and veil before laying beside him. He wraps his arms around me as my head rests upon his chest. “Y/N? Can you promise me something?” I lift my head, noticing the vulnerability wobbling his words. “Anything Tommy”. “Promise me that even after this fighting is done, we will stay together and that we will always find each other. Even if we are separated by a world and a half?” I raise my hand, extending my pinky. “Pinky promise” I say, “Pinky promise”, he returns. Our fingers lock and my heart rests. “Now, come here”, he whispers, tilting my lips to his.

That night would never leave me. For how could one forget something as beautiful as that. We continued late into the night before finally falling asleep, bare in each others arms.

Just before the tidal wave of sleep took over us, one last thing was said.

“I think I’m in love with you Y/N.”

“I think I love you too Tommy.”

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