#WHY DOES EVERYONE CALL HIM BASTARD FRENCH MAN
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a-star-aquarium · 1 year ago
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The Mad King
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His Highness, Juno Ara Malik
Nicknames
Junebug - by everyone who he loves
Rat King - he gained it by those who only view him for his title
Anak laki-laki ungu yang manis - possibly not translated well, but it means Sweet Purple Boy in Indonesian. It is used by his mother, as she would adorn her son in Royal purple, and since, it has become his color, it remains stained on the palace walls, and shown in almost ever rug he owns-which is ironic, considering his favorite color is actually red.
Age: 28
Birthday: January 21st
Gender/Sexuality: Bisexual man {He/Him}
Astrology: Aquarius sun, Pisces moon, Leo rising
Patron Arcana: Judgement
Upright- Awakening, decision-making, redemption, transition
Reversed - Poor logic, self-doubt, stagnation
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Physical Attributes:
Ethnicity: Prakran with a bit of Indonesian and Indian
Height: 5'8
Face Claim: Imran Anj
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Hair:
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His hair is Mid-length, so a little longer than past his shoulders
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Light brown eyes, and thick eyebrows, but he definitely trims them to look arched most days
I'd say he looks similar to face claim completely when it comes to lips, nose, facial structure {that's generally how I picture him if he didn't have the long colorful hair}
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Important Relationships:
King Arogatus Malik of Kari Beaundes - His father, who rules over his home land
Lee Lee and Amaria, his cousins. Both live with him seeing as their parents died of the red plague {they were in Vesuvia at the time of the plague, it was miracle the pair didn't pass away too}
High Council Madame Luvia - His grandmother, who is deceased. She was decapitated.
Jayda - His right hand man and closest friend. Sometimes it's hard to tell if theres something between them, or just longing
Zahra - The one who handles all his business with his courtiers, and who basically took his grandmothers job. She's also a good friend of Jayda's, as he would trust her with his life, which she's complained is far too much responsibility considering how irresponsible he can be.
Favorites
Favorite food: Grilled halloumi
Favorite drink: Pinot Noir 
Favorite Flower: French Hydrangea 
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Background/Other Info:
Juno is a bastard child, as yes, he is his father's son, but his mother was not of royal decent. Juno's father is not completely to blame for this, as his wife, The Queen, passed away of an illness, and he had to resort to sleeping with a servant to produce an heir, otherwise his line would've been endangered. Juno will not take after his father though, his cousin Amaria will; ergo why Juno's father had him take over a small Provence at the age of 14. He felt bad that his son would not be able to take after his footsteps.
Juno was raised by his teachers, servants, and guards when he was sailed across the sea to Roya. His grandmother took no interest in him besides hating him, she would regular burn his hands and back, and he remains to have a scar on his face from her dagger. In fact, her treatment only resulted in Juno growing to be spiteful and cruel in some ways, and at the age of 17, he decapitated her in a purple blaze. Her very own sword being used to do the beheading.
Because he is a bastard, he has no biological connections to the countess, but when asked about him, she called him 'Cousin Juno', and he holds her dearly for including him, even if they're not blood related.
Juno did in fact meet Nadia once, and Zahra insisted on putting a show. So they brought several animals, fabrics, and gifts for the whole palace, and city of Vesuvia. Zahra claims it was a good thing, because now vesuvians have a good image of him, but he thinks that they probably think he's stuck up for doing that much.
Style Preference/Clothing:
It's important to mention that Juno shows as much skin as possible, but not for the reasons you think. He does it to show his burns, his scars, what his grandmother has left him, to remind the people of Roya, that he too has suffered at her hand too. His need to bare himself to the world often results in lots of silk and sheer fabric. He needs to be seen.
He is often adorned in deep blue, red, black, and purple fabrics. He likes a lot of gold in jewelry, commonly wearing black jewels and rubies. He loves the way they reflect in the light. He has a nose piercing, but he'll also wear earrings and necklaces. He's actually very weirded out by lace though, so you'll see him avoid it.
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More formal attire:
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Dynamic? How is he with others?
Juno, while his reputation states otherwise, is genuinely kind-hearted. While he surely can seem sly or charming, he generally has the best intentions when doing so. He's not going to treat you like a threat unless your a genuine problem.
To strangers, he's welcoming, he wants to get to know them, discover what makes them, well- them. He's aware of boundaries though, and will always make sure he's not crossing a line. He's especially kind if he has a good word about you from Zahra or Jayda, getting to know them is the key to getting to Juno if we're being honest. He holds their opinion extremely highly.
To friends, it really depends on who he's with. With Jayda, he's gentle, he jokes, but only mildly, nothing that could genuinely hurt him, and he's highly aware of how sensitive Jayda can be to insults, he knows that the magician has given him the gift of awareness, and he knows it's led to him being insecure about every single thing he does. So he is there as a pillow for Jayda. In contrast, with Zahra and Atlas, he teases them and mocks them all the time, because they do the same, and he's gained the sense they like it. They mean it in no rude way, and it's merely what their used to. For newer friends, he'll analyze you, see what you seem comfortable with, and then he'll try to follow that pattern with you
To partners, you have two options:
You show that you're not really interested in romance, you're more into the passion, the desires of it all. He will treat you as such. He will spoil you, listen to your every fantasy, and do his very best to please you. But he won't show his love as much. He will send you gifts, treat you to nice dinners, balls, all of it. But he won't show how much he loves you, because he'll think it's a turn off. Though, that doesn't mean he's not head over heels for you, he absolutely is, otherwise, your relationship would just be friends with benefits.
You show that you want him, love him, you want him to romance you, lure you in. God, will he play into your every demand. He loves you, and if you let him show it, he won't hesitate to every single moment he's around you. He's handsy, he'll keep his hand on your shoulder, your back, your face. Wherever he can. He may not be too public about it, but that's because he considers your relationship sacred to just you too. Overall though, he's way more affectionate.
Juno is always available for interactions, or ships, so if you're curious, feel free to send an ask
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"Oh, our dear king, what a fool someone would be to love you, what a fool someone would be to fall into that trap"
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marsti · 1 year ago
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post mortem time!
this was a hard one, and i did design it specifically so it'd be hard because i was tired of polls like this being really easy. the right answer didn't win which means i did my job right, but i really wasn't expecting it to be THIS low.
i would also like to thank everyone calling me out in the notes because y'all were right to, i worded basically every single one of these to trip people up. you're all correct and i love you but you still mostly voted wrong in the end.
Main character and his nephew have to fight a rat with a gun nobody fell for that one, we all know that's from diamond is unbreakable. everyone saying it was actually 2 rats is right though, but that felt a little too specific to me. surprised everyone remembered jotaro is josuke's nephew because a lot of people forget!
Alien life is confirmed to be real and that's why people have superpowers i knew a lot of people would vote for that one, and honestly the bastardness of it is in its placement. i put it right next to a part 4 option because i wanted people to have mikitaka on the mind for it. but this is from vento aureo! it's in reference to the stand arrows being forged from a meteorite, and possibly all stands being implied to come from an alien virus which is a form of alien life. to everyone saying stands come from jesus i'm sorry you weren't told about the universe split that happens after stone ocean.
Main character is attacked by multiple trees that make him kill a turtle the option that won! i'm sorry everyone but it's real. it's from jojolion. i am not surprised since i feel like very few people actually know what goes on in there past gappy having four balls, and i did pick a kinda random arc. i thought maybe non-readers could infer where it was from with the turtle thing though, since it mirrors josuke saving one, but i guess i was wrong.
Man crossdresses in an effort to infiltrate a Nazi base our beautiful wife delivering tequila! we also all know that one and i only included it because it's funny, and because non-fans don't really know about the shit that goes down in battle tendency. i thought maybe that one would get them but it didn't and that's fine.
A 15 year old drug dealer kills a cop in broad daylight using rain ok everyone shut up i know the cop doesn't die but it was funnier to say it that way. this was the obligatory jojolands option so people know i'm serious.
Minor antagonist uses his power to compensate for his dick size this is NOT about formaggio i would NEVER be mean to a member of la squadra di esecuzione my beautiful tragic yaoi son boys light of my days love of my life <3 this is about zz. you know, zz. the guy in stardust crusaders with the wheel of fortune stand (that i wrongfully called chariot in multiple asks sorry guys i forgot about polnareff even though i'm french apparently????) whose entire fight is an extended dick size joke. you remember him. anyway this is literally such an iconic part of stardust crusaders to me i think it's the funniest shit ever because mentally i am a 12 year old boy.
A cat dies and turns into a plant that is then put inside another cat tama tama tamaaaa she got a surprising amount of votes but enough people remembered her in the end. i'm sorry to everyone who fell for the wording of referring to killer queen as "another cat" but also look at it. this question was not actually supposed to fool anyone though it was entirely setup for the next one, as it follows the same pattern as the start of the poll. i am lulling you into a false sense of security.
A man escapes his predestined death by hiding inside a replica of himself the superwholock website has forgotten its roots. you fools! this is not jojo! this is the wedding of river song! i brainstormed that one with a friend and i'm SO happy with it, congrats on everyone who got it right. i specifically stole it from doctor who to give non-jojo-fans a chance. but also so it wouldn't be too obvious... something kinda similar does happen in jojo, right? perhaps, maybe, in vento aureo? :3
Woman magically loses her nose in order to save her child and so we close out the poll, and the pattern. this is from jojolion! fewer people fell for it, i guess since it IS a pretty big plot point it makes sense more people would have heard of it.
thank you for participating in my little poll, i hope this was as fun for y'all as it was for me!
No spin-offs or non-canon stories. Goes up to JOJOLands to be more unfair. Voluntarily worded to be harder but not impossible. Reblog so more people get this wrong!
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pududraws · 3 years ago
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laurent thierry, the love of my life (he is me btw)
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bnha-more-like-bnh-gay · 3 years ago
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Rarepair headcanons because I am ignoring my problems
Serodeku:
Izuku reenacts the Spider-Man movies with Sero. Izuku is MJ. They also alternate being Spider-Man sometimes
They skate together
They get very protective when people call their boyfriend “plain”
They play dnd together
Sero tries to make sure that izuku gets some rest
They’re both kinda insecure, izuku more than sero, but still; and they make sure to reassure each other as often as possible
Sero likes listening to Izuku’s ramblings and finds them cute. He has told izuku this, only for the poor boy to imitate a tomato
After Izuku has been particularly reckless, Sero takes advantage of his quirk, wraps Izuku in bubble wrap, and tapes it there
Tokodeku:
Jocknerd bf and goth bf, we love to see it
Tokoyami teaches izuku how to sword fight
They start a dnd club at U.A.
Izuku talks to dark shadow a lot, Dark Shadow approves of him, and has claimed the spot of best man at their wedding
Izuku comes up with ideas to help Tokoyami gain control with Dark Shadow
Dark Shadow is very protective over Izuku, no matter how many times Tokoyami tells him that he can take care of himself, Dark Shadow will put himself between Izuku and any form of danger as often as possible
Dekoyama??? Aoyama/izuku:
Aoyama gives him makeovers, obviously
Aoyama drags izuku to the mall and tries to revamp some of his wardrobe, but he actually finds the “pants” and “flannel” type shirts cute
They help each other train their quirks
Aoyama is trilingual, and teaching izuku English and French.
Izuku always brings Aoyama home some new cheese
Y’all, I love them so much. There needs to be more aodeku content
Monoshinsou:
They have people watching dates. They come up with stories for the people they’re watching; their job, family, background, etc.
They judge people together
They call each other “love”
They’re both dramatic bastards, who will flop onto their lovers lap and proclaim their death due to a minor inconvenience
They jokingly sh*t-talk class A
Shinsou said “I love you” first, and it was because Monoma brought him coffee to class
Monoyama:
Like monoshinsou, they’re both dramatic bastards, who will flop onto their lovers lap and proclaim their death due to a minor inconvenience
They go shopping together and pick out the most dramatic pieces of clothing for each other
I love them so much, please 😭✋
They have tea parties every week, where they sh*t talk everyone else and gossip
They are both fancy bastards, and they wear the most exquisite outfits to go grocery shopping, and the outshine everyone
They both actually make clothing, they’ll go fabric shopping together. Gift exchanges are often articles of clothing that they’ve made for each other
Momomei:
They work on gear together!!!
Momo makes sure that mei gets some sleep
Mei helps redesign momo’s suit
They often work together with izuku to work in gear and such
They actually got together after izuku introduced them. He had been working on gear with mei, and studying with momo and he thought they’d hit it off. He was correct
Shintsuyu:
Dude they’d be so cute
Tsu is a vent gremlin, and you can’t change my mind. So she and shinsou will play a game where they try to find each other. Tsu is in the vent and shinsou is in the classrooms. Shinsou will try to find whichever vent she’s in, or she’ll find whichever classroom he’s in, in 20 minutes or less
I always headcanoned tsu as a dog person, so they’d have two cats and two dogs, and a bunny that they named Deku
They like comparing their friends to animals, hence the bunny, Deku
Kamideku:
Kaminari is a flirt, and izuku does n o t know how to handle it
Kaminari likes listening to izuku’s ramblings, and can keep up with them. He’ll ask questions on things too, and Izuku has never felt more appreciated
I don’t know why I feel like they’d have so many animals, but I do. They’d have so many, man. Three cats, two dogs, four sugar gliders, a hamster
Adhd power couple. They hyperfixated on complimentary things at the same time one time
Kaminari tutors izuku in English, and izuku turots kami in some other subjects. He’s also teaching kami JSL on the side. Kaminari has a live of languages
Momochako:
Study dates, Momo asks ochako to quiz her a lot
Ochako takes to floating momo’s things when she wants attention. Especially when Momo is studying. She makes a game out of how many things she can float until the other girl notices
Uraraka’s confidence does wonders for momo’s. Uraraka always makes sure to reassure momo that she is strong and that she can do this
Momo makes Uraraka whatever her heart desires. Uraraka blushes all the time, and momo takes great pride in getting her girlfriend to blush
Minatoru:
Mina clings to everyone, but especially to toru
They give each other stuffed animals so often. They’ll go to the store to get food, and come back with three stuffed animals that reminded them of each other
Please, they’re so cute 😭✋
They will play hide and seek, I stand by this.
Mina helps toru design a new costume. I hate hers, it’s horrible, and sexist, and not suitable for a fucking child
Toru says that pink is her favorite color
They flirt with each other all the time. Half the class thinks it’s cute, half of them used to think it was cute.
Iidamomo:
I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, but study dates. they quiz each other, and it actually gets pretty competitive
They also have rage room dates. I will not budge on this. Iida tried to murder someone, and I am excited to see momo finally snap. She deserves it
They alternate paying for dates, don’t try me.
The go hiking a lot
They started liking each other after one late night, both having nightmares. Momo had tea, and offered some to Iida. They talked until the early hours of the morning
They can’t flirt. They try. But they’re horrible at it. They’ll compliment each other all day long, but they cannot flirt.
KIRIDEKU, MY BELOVED:
Y’all,,, y’all, I love them so much
They train together, obviously
They ran into each other one night in the common room after both having nightmares. They talked about middle school, how they were both bullied, izuku’s quirk coming in late, katsuki being abusive, kiri being bullied because his quirk wasn’t “cool.” After that, they were practically inseparable.
They started going on dates, not that either of them knew they were dates. The entire class knew, so did the teachers, so did the rest of U.A. Kirishima picked up on it first after a comment from Mina, he had is realization.
So, he started courting Izuku. Not thag izuku realized this. He brought him flowers on most ‘dates,’ he bought him hero action figures whenever he could, he complimented him until Izuku was red in the face (which was honestly very easy.) Still, izuku remained ignorant to the fact that he was indeed dating Kirishima.
The final tipping point, was due to Uraraka’s help. She was quite tired of watching the two of them pine for each other. It was amusing for the first couple months, watching Kirishima try so hard, and Deku being totally oblivious. However, she took pity on her friends after a while.
So, Uraraka devised a devilish plan to get the two together. She involved Mina, Sero, and kaminari in this plan. What was the plan, you ask? Oh, simply to trap the two in one room until they broke through izuku’s obliviousness.
Kirishima finally “straight” up admitted his feelings, to which Izuku had the sudden realization of “oh my gods, have we been dating this whole time??” Yes, Izuku. Yes you have.
They have two anniversaries after that.
Let’s be honest, they are really, annoyingly, horrifically lovey dovey. Kirishima brags about having “the manliest and bestest boyfriend in the world.” Izuku flaunts his many PowerPoint presentations on how talented and incredible Kirishima is
Uraraka doesn’t know if she did the right thing by helping them. She is so tired
Tsujirou:
Jirou makes playlists for tsu
The few sane ones in class A, I swear
They go on walks in the rain as often as they can
They go for dates in the bookstore too. They each pick out an album and a book for the other to listen to and read
Y’all, they make so much sense togetherrrrr, I’m love them 🥺
Jirou started liking tsu after the crew saved bakugou. Jirou sat with tsu after momo, Iida, kirishima, Todoroki, and izuku apologized and sat with her. They had movie night, and Jirou joined the Bakugou saving crew and tsu with taking well into the night. She just appreciated how much tsu cared
Tsu started liking Jirou after she helped Iida, momo, and izuku try to keep the class in order. She appreciated how diplomatic and calm she was
Jirou would talk to izuku all night long about how gay she was, and how adorable tsu was. So, izuku decided to try and suggest ways for Jirou to ask her out.
She did not end up getting to ask her out though, as Tsu walked up to her the next morning f and asked if she wanted to go on a date. Jirou said yes. Izuku cried
Izujirou:
They make playlists for each other
They go for runs on the beach a lot
They both have insomnia, and often spend time making blanket forts and talking, or FaceTiming and listening to music
Jirou walks into the common room once a week looking for new music. She started liking Izuku after he made a playlist for her for one of these occasions.
They’re both quite awkward when it comes to romance, but neither of them will shy away from facing the truth. So, Jirou made izuku a playlist filled with love songs that reminded her of him and sent it to him. Sadly, izuku is dense as hell.
So, then Jirou wrote a love song and told izuku that the song was for him. Sadly, izuku is dense as hell.
So, then Jirou write analysis about izuku’s quirk for him. Sadly, izuku is dense as hell
So, then, after thinking that Jirou had done so much for him, izuku made her a playlist filled with love songs. Jirou took this to mean that izuku had finally picked up on her feelings, and accepted them.
So, they started to go on dates. Not that izuku knew this, as he is dense as hell. All leading up to izuku finally confessing his feelings on one of their ‘dates,’ to which Jirou responded, “dude, we’re already dating? Aren’t we? I- I thought that was obvious??”
May this awkward couple be forever blessed
Tokoyama:
Goth/prep boyfriends, we love to see it
At least once a day, Aoyama will proclaim that Tokoyami “shines almost as bright as he does, in his fabulous emo way”
They sword fight, and come up with really dramatic scenarios and scenes that they’re in
They bond over being in the izucrew and their shared love of swords. Aoyama took fencing classes in middle school, and Tokoyami got into sword fighting after watching it in pirates of the Caribbean as a young child. He is self taught and watched countless videos on the art of sword fighting
Tokoyami asked Aoyama our by dramatically presenting him with a dagger and going “will you accompany me on a formal outing as my lover?”
Shinyama:
They flirt constantly
No really, it’s getting quite annoying. Someone please stop them.
They both plop down in random areas and proclaim their deaths, the difference between them, is that Aoyama will burst into shinsou’s room, and yell “love, I’ve been murdered. Mourn for me” while plopping down on shinsou’s lap. Shinsou can be found laying face down outside aoyama’s door, and when Aoyama goes to open the door, he just goes “I’ve been murdered.”
^^ one time, shinsou did a very fun Halloween prank for this, where he poured fake blood all over himself for Aoyama to find him an hour later, asleep.
Nap dates. Aoyama get glitter all over shinsou’s room
Iiyama:
Aoyama enjoys making Iida blush, obviously. But he takes joy in doing it specifically when class is about to start. Aizawa is tired of his shit
Here is how I think an iiyama conversation might go:
Aoyama: I ask for one thing in this relationship-
Iida: Aoyama, you know that’s a lie-
Aoyama: for my boyfriend to carry me around all day-
Iida: Aoyama, I cannot feasibly do this with class-
Aoyama: and I don’t think that’s too much to ask for 😤
Anyway, Aoyama got carried around all day that day, despite Iida’s blush and Aizawa’s eye twitch
Everyone in the izucrew is close, but Iida and Aoyama started to get close after Iida told the crew about Stain. Aoyama wanted Iida to know that he wasn’t alone, and that he wanted to help him. So he started packing extra cheese for lunch and giving it to Iida. Iida was very confused at first. But this was Aoyama trying to court him. This was only made apparent by momo and Jirou telling Iida that this was aoyama’s attempt at expressing romantic interest.
Aoyama flirts with everyone, that’s just who he is. But with Iida? Oh it was tenfold. The poor boy was red in the face constantly. Aoyama was a persistent little bugger too, following him around and calling him ‘mon amour’
Kirikamideku:
My dearest traffic light trio, I’m love them
They train together, and kiri and kami always appreciate izuku’s analysis snd ideas
Kiri falls even more in love with izuku and kaminari when they go off on rants. Izuku rants and kami can keep up with him so he asks questions about it. Kiri loves to watch his boyfriends go on rants, I don’t make the rules, but I do enforce them
They started to get closer after kami and kiri found bakugou causing a ptsd flashback (could be on purpose of an accident, up to the reader.) they stated with him and tried to talk him through it. After this, izuku started to tell them about having been a “late bloomer” and being bullied, etc. (I don’t know, man; I tend to over share after flashbacks and after panic attacks)
Izuku tutors them in several subjects, but kami tutors them in English. Kiri just falls in love with his smart boyfriends
Izuku is teaching kami JSL and kami is helping izuku with English and Italian (personal headcanon that Italian has been one of kami’s special interests) kiri loves to listen to them, and finds it relaxing and calming to hear them do this. When he has panic attacks, he’ll ask them to tutor each other in different languages
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ahtsumu · 4 years ago
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again and again and again ; ushijima wakatoshi
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pairing: ushijima wakatoshi x f!reader
synopsis: every august 13th, a void opens in your chest. the universe is one sick bastard.
tag(s): soulmate!au, very angsty, equally fluffy, reincarnation!au, prince!ushijima, rebel!ushijima. android!ushijima, dad!ushijima, pro-volleyball player!ushijima ; warning(s): lots of death n dying, suggestive themes, light profanity ; wc: 4.8k
a/n: happy birthday ushi!!! inspired by cloud atlas and the raven cycle but you don’t have to have seen either to understand this fic. tbh it’s just a bunch of different au’s tied together by the strings of fate lol. a thousand thank you’s to @dorkyama​ for beta-ing!
TOKYO, JAPAN, 2020
It’s another August 13th and Ushijima Wakatoshi might die today.
Glumly, you push away the plate of breakfast in front of you, cross your arms over the new space, and rest your forehead down as if in front of a grave.
“Please,” you beg with eyes shut. “Let Ushijima Wakatoshi live today.”
(You’ve whispered this phrase infinite times–– so often that it has a home in your mouth like a cavity.)
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SOMEWHERE IN WASHINGTON, 2012
When you first meet Ushijima–– the first first time–– it’s evening and you’re lost in a meadow somewhere in Washington. Where exactly doesn’t quite matter and, even if it did, you wouldn’t be able to remember. At least, not at this moment. Because you see something most peculiar.
Under the half-lit sky, in the glade of overgrown sweet vernal grass and marigolds and daisies, a figure stands paler than the moon overhead.
The body belongs to a young man dressed in a sweater and slacks. His dark hair parts on the side, stopping right above a pair of firm dark eyes. Thin lips press in a perfunctory line, sharp nose radiates an aura of authority.
And yet, he looks lost.
“Hello?” you call out. The boy doesn’t respond, only continues to hover in the middle of the clearing with the same confounded expression on his face. So you ignore the pounding of your heart in your chest and inch closer until you’re just feet away, shivering. It’s a strangely cold day for July, you think.
“Can you tell me your name?” you ask. Seconds pass in silence as he stares past–– no, through–– you. With your thudding heartbeat and shallow breaths still the only sounds in the meadow, you realise that you may have to try something else.
Gently, you touch the pads of your fingers to his shoulder. A fresh wave of ice floods through your veins, raising goosebumps all over your skin. More curiously, though, your fingers fall through said shoulders. It feels like plunging your hand into a bucket of ice.
Eyes wide, you lunge backwards. A ghost?
No, ghosts aren’t real.
(If that’s the case, then what is he?)
At your touch, the boy’s head jerks up. Life floods his gaze. Blinking, he says, “Ushijima.” His voice is low and smooth, but quiet. Firm. He looks around the meadow as if seeing it for the first time.
“Is that all?”
Ushijima’s focus returns to you, this time with the addition of furrowed brows. His eyes are fixed on you in a way that makes you feel as if he’s reading your soul.
“That’s all there is.”
A million questions race through your mind and before you can decide which to ask first, his incorporeal figure vanishes from the meadow.
And you’re alone again.
Oddly enough, the way back to your aunt’s house comes naturally to you. Once inside the ancient wooden manor, you realise that the feeling that guided you back was the same that had led you to the meadow in the first place.
Then, you wonder, had you truly been lost?
Aunt Risa’s an eccentric woman in her thirties, always yabbering on about Mercury in retrograde and events that are yet to happen. Grandma had been the same. Clairvoyance, or what everyone claims is “clairvoyance”, supposedly runs in your family. You wouldn’t know, though, because apparently it skipped your mother. Coincidentally (or not), she’s extremely proud of her normality. And she’s also extremely proud that you, supposedly, are normal, too.
It’s safe to say that you don’t see your mother’s family often.
Still, she sent you here from New York to “connect with your roots”. And even though you know that’s a cover for “raise hell somewhere else for one summer”, you let yourself consider that it means getting acquainted with the mystic mumbo-jumbo you’ve ignored all these years. After all, nothing normal can explain what just happened in the field… right?
Good thing Aunt Risa isn’t normal.
“That’s Glendower’s Meadow you were just in,” she says with a twinkle in her eyes. “Lies atop a very powerful ley line.”
Ley lines, you learn, connect places around the world through electromagnetic forces. They are also able to transcend time, gravity, space… all forces that cannot be seen.
Aunt Risa adds that they do more than just connect places. “Soulmates countries apart can step on any point in the same line to see each other. It’s been said that the power ley lines emit is so strong that even soulmates worlds and years apart can meet in these little pockets of energy. Guess it tides you over til you’re destined to meet.”
Somehow, everything she says makes sense and doesn’t at the same time. Soulmates? Magic? None of this is real, is it?
“Now,” she continues, “it’s odd that you can use ley lines, though. Remember how you couldn’t tell a black jackal from a swan the last time you read tea leaves?”
You frown. At seven years old, you hadn’t exactly been trying.
“I guess there is something supernatural about you! You can’t deny how magical it is to have a love that transcends lifetimes…”
You don’t hear the rest of what she has to say. “Lifetimes?”
“Yup. Soulmates are the only people in this universe who go through reincarnation. The Universe is a hopeless romantic, letting her children fall in love again and again and again.”
And this explanation satisfies you because you’re sixteen, a little naive, and the Universe has never failed you before.
(She will.)
July passes in a honeyed haze: you spend every day with a content curve to your lips, thinking about a boy with eyes and hair dark as night.
Aunt Risa doesn’t have the heart to tell you that she’s seen his future in this life. And when you step out the creaky wooden door for the last time, ready to go back to the bustling jungle that is New York, she calls out to you with an expression you don’t yet recognise. “Don’t you worry, hun. You’ll see that Ushijima boy again.”
But not like this.
You’re about to get out of bed and dress for the first day of school when an out-of-control eighteen-wheeler runs his driver’s black SUV off the road. Ushijima Wakatoshi dies on August 13th in his timezone.
As it happens, you feel a strange sense of loss settle in. It’s like you’d been driving on the highway and just missed the last turn home.
(You’ll learn in the next life that you, in fact, do not have the gift of foresight. But you do have the curse of memory.)
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PARIS, FRANCE, 1749
The year is 1749 and sunlight pours through the windows of Ushijima Wakatoshi’s second-floor bedroom.
In this life–– your second life–– you are a brilliant composer. The Universe, as you’ve guessed, follows no rules, no directions. Doesn’t even spare a glance at a linear timeline. Or perhaps, it’s time that isn’t linear. Either way, you try not to think about things out of your control. Life is good now.
At the sound of your fingers waltzing across ivory and ebony, Ushijima slowly sits up in the king-sized, soft linen sheets falling to reveal his chiselled torso.
“Good morning,” he rasps, a content smile tugging at his lips. “You look enchanting as always.”
The melody stops. Between the lid and music rack, your eyes meet–– his gentle, yours mirthful. “You flatter me,” you deny with a cheeky grin. Still, you rise (wearing his robes, Ushijima notes) from your seat and stroll over to your lover, pressing a gentle kiss to his mouth. “Happy birthday, darling.”
“Thank you,” he murmurs against your lips. “I live another year just for you.” Ushijima really means that–– in fact, he believes with his whole heart that he was made for you and you him. There’s no other way to explain how your bodies mould so perfectly together, how you understand each other without even speaking, how time feels like it doesn’t exist whenever you’re around. Your meeting at Duke La Trémoille’s ball could only have been the work of Fate’s nimble fingers.
(It was. A ley line runs underneath the Duke’s family château.)
You hum, thankful that this time you have the privilege to love him as he lives. Your last life was spent agonising over the only memory you had of him. “And what does this day have in store for the man of the hour?” The words that leave your lips morph into bubbling laughter as he moves aside on the bed and pulls you into his embrace. Still giggling, you kiss his bare chest, relishing in how secure his arms feel around your waist.
“Mother is hosting a ball tonight in my honour,” he says. That you are not invited to, he doesn’t add. He doesn’t have to, though, because you know that she doesn’t approve of you. Not being French is the main reason why, but there’s also the fact that you’re a musician. A talented, accomplished, royally recognised musician, sure, but that doesn’t change how at the end of the day, all you have to your name is inked paper.
And Ushijima Wakatoshi is first in line for the throne of France.
“Ah.”
It’s hardly fair for you to feel slighted–– you knew what you were getting into the second the Crown Prince, notorious for his aloof nature, invited you to Versailles to perform for him and his friends.
(In his defense, Duke Tendou had forced his hand by threatening to throw a fit in front of the Queen, but only after he’d seen the painfully restrained wonder in the prince’s eyes.)
Still, you yearn for something more.
Ushijima feels your body stiffen in his arms and knows the moment has soured. “You can never be Queen of France,” he murmurs into your neck. Shivers crawl down your spine the same time tears prick at your eyes. “And I can never give you a throne.” It’s not the throne you yearn for.
“I know.” You curse whoever the lucky girl will be. And you curse Ushijima for reminding you that she will definitely not be you.
“I can only promise you my heart.” He presses his lips to the side of your neck. “My undying devotion.” A kiss to your exposed shoulder. “And my soul in every life we meet.” His hand slides under your chin and turns your head towards his. Soft lips move against yours while the pads of his fingers wipe away the tears that had spilled over your cheeks.
“Toshi, I must say that the literature tutor your mother hired is doing a marvellous job,” you murmur once you pull apart.
A short breath of amusement leaves his nose. “He’s only polishing a gem that already exists,” Ushijima counters.
You smile slyly, another witty remark ready to launch from your mouth, when three sharp knocks at the door cause both of you to freeze.
“My friends, the Devil approaches.” Tendou’s faint voice travels through the opulent front door.
Sighing, you slide off the bed and tug your day dress on. Without being asked, Ushijima ties the laces in the back together. “Tell your mother I said hello, won’t you?” you tease, kissing him deeply on the balcony.
“I’d prefer not to think about my mother with your lips pressed to mine, darling,” he replies.
You giggle softly, and with one leg dangling off the balustrade, say, “And careful not to wear yourself out dancing, Toshi. Expect a visit from me later.”
His sonorous laughter rings through the air as you jump and land deftly on the freshly cut grass below, running the whole way back to your humble apartment in the eleventh arrondissement.
Regrets of not sneaking into the ball will burn into your brain after Tendou arrives at your door later that evening with a faraway stare on his face.
Towards the end of the ball, Ushijima Wakatoshi is led away from the dance floor and into the gardens by his scheming younger brother Goshiki.
He doesn’t return. The beloved Crown Prince of France dies on his twenty-first birthday with a dagger in his chest and poison in his veins.
With two lives under your belt, you reach the cruel understanding that in every life you live, August 13th is the day that Ushijima Wakatoshi dies again and again and again.
In a sense, memory is foresight.
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NEO SEOUL, 2144
Tomorrow, the Union Revolutionary Group exposes the government for their crimes against your people.
But tonight, your head rests against his chest–– a habit you picked up sometime after Germany, 1943, even though you are presently in Neo Seoul, 2144. To be honest, you’re not sure if it’s even 2144. Neo Seoul’s calendar isn’t like the one you went through your first few lives with and you’re certain one year here is equivalent to two back on the Earth you knew… or something like that. Either way, every August 13th passes under your nose without detection. Every day passes uneasily, because although you never truly know when anyone dies in any life, you really don’t know when he will in this one.
But hearing Ushijima’s heart beat firmly manages to take the edge off yours. Every pulse is a murmured confirmation that everything is still okay.
You jerk back when he stirs from sleep. Disorientated, Ushijima blinks at your dimly lit figure before registering that it’s you. A confused expression crosses his features. What had you just been doing?
“Is everything alright?” His voice is raspy with drowsiness but he sits upright against the headboard anyway.
“Yeah.”
“No, it’s not. Tell me what’s wrong.” Nothing ever slips past him–– at least, not when it comes to you. Still, you bite your lip and contemplate if it’s worth mentioning. Three years of working alongside the renegade Commander (and hundreds more from other lifetimes) have taught you that words of comfort do not belong in Ushijima’s vocabulary. But it’s the night before you, the only known freed Fabricant working with the Union, are going to expose the Unanimity’s enslavement of Fabricants to all inhabitants of Neo Seoul. And…
“I’m scared, Wakatoshi.”
He thinks you’re talking about tomorrow. His eyes dart to the holographic digits floating throughout his room. 12:02 AM. You’re talking about today, then. He’s not wrong–– you are afraid of today. But you’re also afraid every day.
Ushijima pauses, wondering what to say. He’s never felt fear the same way others do. Others might only see a myriad of ways they can fail or die but he simply sees a chance to prove himself. A chance to emerge victorious. “If you let yourself be scared,” he says, “then you lose without fighting. Fear is a wasted emotion. Even at your last breath, you should never be afraid.”
As you mull his words over in your head, a section of your hair falls in front of your face. Ushijima’s fingers twitch. Would it be too much to––
“Then what should I feel instead?” He stills.
The question hangs in the air, thickening until the spacious room feels suffocating. Normal people–– people you knew a couple of lifetimes ago–– would probably say something like “love” or “hope” or even “don’t”. You think Ushijima might, too.
But when Ushijima speaks, he says, “Feel right now.”
A shift in the moonbeam pouring through your surrounding glass walls casts a muted glow over your features, breaking through the darkness of the room. Ushijima’s olive eyes flash and fall to your shining lips.
His Adam’s apple bobs. Anticipation bubbles in your stomach.
You think that you might die tomorrow. He might die any day. What are you waiting for?
Feeling a fiery rush of blood surge through your veins, you close the distance between your bodies until the tips of your noses touch. Gently, your hand comes up to the back of his neck, feeling his pulse speed up under your fingers. He instantly reaches out, grips your waist firmly. Hot, uneven breaths fan across your face.
“What––”
“I know it’s forbidden between Fabricants and pure-bloods,” you breathe out, “but––”
Ushijima nudges his lips against yours. They move stiffly, unsurely, but it’s sincere. It’s his first kiss and it’s your… you’ve lost count by now. It doesn’t really matter, though. Past, future, or present, every one of his touches feels new.
Both of you might die tomorrow. But tonight, you both are so very alive.
And when his heart pounds, unmuffled, bare against yours, you are reminded to live now.
Twenty-one hours later, a laser beam whizzes past your ear.
“Go faster!” you shout over the wind, tightening your arms around Ushijima’s waist. “We have to get to the broadcast station now.”
“I’m trying,” he grits out, pressing his foot harder against the hoverbike’s pedal. You speed up, but only a little. “Fuck. Remember what I taught you about the laser pistols?”
“Always aim a little higher than you want to.” From the mirrors on the side, you see the corners of his lips quirk up. You reach for the gun in his belt.
Not a single police officer remains on your tail when you step foot into the broadcast station.
“We don’t have much time, miracle girl,” Tendou, a fellow Union soldier, says once you arrive. He punches the elevator button. Instantly, the chute opens. “Cameras have picked up on at least five Unanimity squads headed our way from the city.”
The sinking feeling that today out of all days might be August 13th suddenly weighs on your stomach. A shaky breath leaves your mouth.
Ushijima stops you before you can step in. Cupping your face with his large hands, the brunet gazes deeply into your eyes. “I believe in you,” he murmurs. “I believe in you.” His fingers brush against your cheekbones. You let your eyelids close, relishing in this stolen moment between two new lovers.
Ushijima presses his lips against yours, kissing you as if he’s trying to carve a message into your bones. He whispers his conviction one last time before stepping back and allowing Tendou to push you lightly into the elevator. The thought that Ushijima’s words allude to more than just faith nudges your brain as the two men grow smaller in your sight.
Halfway through your revelations, the Unanimity cuts through the metal doors of the station. Behind the glass panels encasing the radio room, you watch the shootout begin. Every bone in your body screams for you to join your comrades, but you remember what your orders are. No matter what happens, do not stop the broadcast. If the truth doesn’t come out now, the Union will have sacrificed everything in vain.
You will your voice to steady when Unanimity soldiers take out the Union soldiers hiding behind Tendou’s barricade.
You will your hands to unclench when Ushijima deftly slides over his squad’s barricade and tosses a plasma grenade towards a cluster of enemy soldiers, then picks off the survivors with his Union rifle.
You will your breath to endure when the brunet is blown back by a grenade tossed by another squadron. Ushijima’s cranium collides with the floor. His body stills; blood red as cherry wine pools around his head like a cruel halo. Swallowing, you push forth. You’re a soldier.
But you can’t help the way your throat dries or hands shake or lungs tighten when you see his head turn ever-so-slightly in your direction.
He smiles in his last breath.
(The Archivist asks if you loved Ushijima before you are taken away. You tell him you always have, do, will.
The Unanimity guillotine doesn’t scare you like you think it should. Knowing what and who waits ahead, it feels more like a kiss to your neck.)
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QAASUURI, 3003
As you step out of the metal carriage, the ground beneath you begins to vibrate. This, as you’ve learned, can only mean that you are standing atop another ley line.
Olive eyes stare at you impassively when you look up. A dazzling array of awards and medals is pinned to his chest over a white military uniform. Compared to all the other soldiers around him, you gather that the deep purple cape over his shoulders means he’s someone important. Possibly your betrothed? You briefly recall another lifetime in which he’d been the crown prince of somewhere, and you, by a spectacular stroke of misfortune, had only been a composer then. Fighting back a smug grin, you muse that this time, you are a princess.
“Ushijima Wakatoshi, Captain of the Qaasuuri Royal Guard, at your service,” he says with a low bow. “King Washijou appointed me to ensure your safety during your courtship with the prince, your highness. These are trying times, especially with the war against Ibis.” Your heart falls. So it’s one of those lives.
Mustering the warmest smile you can, you curtsy and say, “Thank you, Ushijima. I hope we can get to know each other better.”
You do.
It is a truth universally acknowledged that the Qaasuuri are a race more android than human. But nothing about him feels artificial. He is as real as he was in Berlin. Atlantis. Cairo. Camelot. Hanoi. Olympus. Tallahassee. He feels as human, too.
You get to relearn the way his cheeks flare up when you call him Toshi and not Ushijima for his first time (force of habit)... and every subsequent time (at your pleasure).
You get to relearn his wry humour, how every-so-often his stony demeanour breaks after one of your quick jabs, usually in response to his agonisingly blunt remarks. (“You should have brought a coat, princess,” he notes with disapproval when you shiver in the chilly spring air. You promise him that you look better with hypothermia than in any Qaasuuri coat. An amused breath blows out from his nose. And though he doesn’t say a word more on the subject, his white jacket over your shoulders speaks more than enough.)
You get to relearn how his hands feel on your skin. The first lesson is your mistake: missing a step down the spiralling staircase on your way to dinner. Automatically, his hand grips your arm to pull you back. He uses a little more force than necessary, though, and tugs you into his firm chest. Neither of you can look at each other for the rest of the evening. The second is his mistake: reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear as you read in the palace library, somehow knowing it’s one of your pet peeves. Both of you freeze when his fingers accidentally brush against your cheek. Ushijima thinks he’s never felt skin softer than yours–– you think it’s been too long since he last touched you.
The third is neither a mistake nor just one of your doings. It happens on a cool autumn evening as the two of you walk through the palace gardens with your hands dangling haphazardly at your sides, knocking against each other again and again as if begging for an opening. Finally, you acquiesce. You slip your hand into Ushijima’s cold palms. And though nothing shows on his stony face, his heart whirrs like an overheating engine for the rest of your walk. He doesn’t let go until the iron palace comes back into view.
“We should stop,” he pants between fervent kisses, “before this gets out of hand.” You nip at his neck. “You’re betrothed to the prince––” you suck on the skin between his collarbones and throat, drawing a low groan from his lips “––and I can never give you a throne.”
You pull back, knees on either side of his waist, and stare down into his eyes. “I don’t want a throne.” Ushijima watches you with rapt attention. Sometimes you wonder if maybe, just maybe, he remembers. Slowly, you repeat his words from lifetimes ago. “I only want your heart.” An unreadable expression crosses his face. “Your devotion.” It’s not recognition. “And your soul.”
It’s conviction.
By now you’ve seen many breathtaking things: entire cities built from ice, the end of the ocean, a Venusian sunrise. None compare to Ushijima Wakatoshi with his pupils blown wide, hair tousled, lips flushed. Red with love.
None compare when he promises, “You have that and more.”
A pause.
“Show me.”
With an effortless flip, Ushijima’s muscled body hovers over yours, olive eyes flashing wildly in your dim chambers.
Amid fast breaths and guttural moans, amid steely olive eyes and parted lips, amid the subatomic space between your bodies, you feel it cloak your skin like armour.
Love.
(The Ibis storm the Qaasuuri castle one month before the wedding. Ushijima fights the invaders valiantly, superhuman modifications undoubtedly being of help. But there’s just too many of them. The last thing he tells you is to run. The world burns when you look over your shoulder, only to see a Ibisian sword drive through his heart.
The Qaasuuri are a race more android than human. But they still bleed the same.)
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TOKYO, JAPAN, 2018
The oldest you ever witness him live to is thirty-two years old.
It’s the morning of August 13th and you walk into the kitchen to the sight of Ushijima Wakatoshi lifting your daughter up into the sky, spinning her little body around in circles, the pancakes on the stove slowly bronzing to a mouthwatering shade of gold.
“Mommy!” she giggles when she sees you. Leaning against the doorframe with your arms crossed, you watch your husband set your daughter back down on the ground with a soft smile on his face.
“Sleep well?” you ask, ruffling her hair. She nods happily and bounces back to the stove. Her latest obsession has been cooking in the kitchen, though you’re not sure when exactly she moved on from “potion-making” in the backyard.
“Morning,” Ushijima murmurs, wrapping an arm around your waist and pressing a kiss to your lips.
“Happy birthday, handsome,” you tease, leaning into his chest. As the words leave your mouth, the sunny morning haze cools into desaturated blue. But it’s been thirty-two years, you reason with a hard swallow. Maybe the cycle has broken. Your eyes dart to your daughter’s little figure on the stepping stool, her small hands gripping the spatula flipping a bronzed pancake over to its pale side. How would she…
You steel yourself, though a small fissure can’t help but open in your heart from the force.
She isn’t your first child and she won’t be your last. Time, you’ve learned, likes to play games, likes to set you on the same storyline again and again just to see if another ending will show itself. There will be more tomorrows and more yesterdays. There always is.
But that doesn’t make todays hurt any less.
Ushijima tilts his head to the side, olive eyes peering into yours. “Is everything okay?” He never misses (or missed) anything–– not when the two of you were heisting in Switzerland or revelling in Alexandria like Dionysians, not when you were crammed in the same codebreaking room during World War I or sailed across the Atlantic to your doom in 1912. Not now.
But you’re tired of carrying each bygone lifetime into the next. Willing yourself to forget the fact that you’ve seen him die again and again on August 13th, you put everything into the lie that slips your teeth: “More than okay.”
You choose to cherish the present.
“Order up!” your daughter exclaims, proudly presenting the plate of pancakes to you and Ushijima. “I even made one shaped like a heart for Dad for his birthday!”
With a grin, you come closer to inspect the heart-shaped pancake. “Excellent work, sous chef!” you compliment, tapping her nose lightly. It’s sharp like her father’s. She, however, inherited your eyes. You turn around to face your husband. “What does Head Chef Ushijima think?”
Smiling softly, he takes the plate from her hands and, without a second look, says, “It’s perfect. Thank you, sweetheart.”
Breakfast passes in a blur of laughter and honey.
(You think you have gone through another August 13th unscathed when night falls and all of your friends exit through the cherry wood doors of one of Tokyo’s finest restaurants. On the car ride home, however, your white SUV swerves to avoid a deer in the road and flips once, twice, three times.
You wake up neither a mother nor a wife.)
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TOKYO, JAPAN, 2020
A subtle sigh of relief exits your lungs when Ushijima Wakatoshi enters through the front door at 12:01 AM, red Team Japan suitcase in hand. He’s back from the airport. More importantly, he’s alive.
“Did I make it?” he asks with an upturned corner of his mouth. His olive eyes are half-closed from the exhausting transatlantic flight and his muscles are still a bit sore from how vigorously he played the game against Argentina (Oikawa’s team, for god’s sake)... but he’s here.
And he can’t be any happier.
You know that he’s talking about the time, probably hoping to joke that coming home to you is the best birthday present he can imagine. In that regard, he technically hasn’t made it.
And yet, you leap into his arms and press kisses all over his face as you repeat “yes” again
and again
and again.
1K notes · View notes
camthesolemnone · 3 years ago
Note
*crashes through door*
HI I HAVE ANOTHER ONE!!
Ok. Soulmate AU!! it's the one with the red string connecting you to your soul mate by your pinkie. Make up some rules for it if you need to!! I like to do the thing where the string gets tighter/looser as they move closer and farther from their s/o.
Ok, goodnight, I love you, bye!
*mwah*
*passes out just outside door*
Whoops accidentally made Zhanna older than Heavy in this one. Well I mean, maybe she is, but I've always written Mikhail as the oldest child in his family. Anyway, enjoy!
Wide eyes full of tears and flushed cheeks was what Mama came across upon turning to face who was tugging at her shawl. Little Zhanna, no more than five, was highly concerned about her baby brother.
"Mama! Misha’s finger is blue!"
Fearing that her son had developed gangrene from the cold brought on by the heavy storm outside, the distressed mother turned away from her soup pot and made haste towards the living room.
"Zhanna! Go get your father!" She instructed, entering the space, and the small girl nodded rapidly as she dashed off to where Papa was doing laundry.
Mama approached her child. The infant was situated in the center of the carpet, tiny hands shaking and eyes also leaking. Mikhail couldn't form words yet. He could only helplessly wail as he became light-headed; he had lost all feeling in his pinkie finger.
Mama kneeled down near him, and Zhanna and Papa appeared a second later.
"What is going on! Is moy syn alright?" The older man cried.
Mama took the boy’s hands in her own and examined them closely. As Zhanna had announced, his left pinkie was a light shade a blue. At the base of Mikhail’s finger was a small red string, fastened so tightly that it constricted the blood flow. The Russian mother breathed a sigh of relief.
“There is nothing to fear, he has simply acquired his soulstring,” Mama explained, standing up and giving her family a reassuring nod.
Papa let out his own held breath at the fortunate news, but Zhanna simply stared at her parents in confusion.
“Mama, what is a soulstring?”
Her father reached out to grasp her mother’s hand, and the two of them smiled down at their daughter.
“Young Zhanna, a soulstring is leetle red string around your pinkie that connects you to your soulmate: the person you are destined to fall in love with. Some people’s thread appears immediately after birth, but for others, it can take several years before their special partner is chosen,” Mama revealed.
Papa added on, motioning to Mikhail in the process.
“The tighter the string is, the farther you are away from your soulmate. Seeing as your brother’s is strong enough to cut off circulation, there is good chance his soulmate does not live in this country.”
Zhanna glanced over at the thread on Mikhail’s finger and then back to her parents, crossing her arms.
“What happens to the string when you find your ‘soulmate?’“ Zhanna inquired.
Papa crouched down to ruffle his daughter’s hair while Mama picked up Mikhail and left the room to resume dinner.
“Once you meet fated love, the string falls off for good,” he explained.
The small girl beamed and ran a hand through her black hair.
“Chudesno! I can’t wait to get my soulstring!”
.
Mikhail had given up on his chances of ever finding his love or feeling his finger again.
Forty seven years had passed since the red string initially appeared on his pinkie, and not once had he ever felt it loosen up. He felt hopeless and silently wondered most days if the higher beings had made a mistake. Maybe he truly wasn’t attached to anyone and they had tied the thread just to spite him. Instead, the Russian decided to spend his time taking care of his family.
His father had long since passed and Yana and Bronislava had run off with their soulmates, but at least Mikhail could still provide for his mother and Zhanna.
An ad in the newspaper intrigued him one morning: a mercenary job in America offering thousands. The giant immediately took to calling the company, known as Mann Co., and asked for a position. Not only would he be able to make enough money to provide a comfortable life for Mama and his sister, he was delighted at the opportunity to wield guns against evil men with no consequence. Moving away from the Russian blizzards would also prove to be a positive change.
Within two months of his interview, the new Heavy Weapons Specialist was landing down in New Mexico. A few days were spent getting used to his new surroundings and signing paperwork, but eventually, the bus came by his hotel to take him to the Reliable Excavation Demolition base. 
While lounging in the tough leather seat, Heavy glanced at the surrounding seats and took notice of two other men sitting in the back. They both wore red and yellow bands on their arms, indicating they were some of Mikhail’s new teammates. Preferring not to spend a year with a group of people who disliked him, the Russian moved to the back of the bus to make a good first impression.
“Privet, I am Heavy Weapons Guy,” he began.
The two men looked up from their respective pieces of literature. The younger of the two lazily held and flipped a baseball magazine with one hand. The other man, taller and masked, was gripping a thick, plain-covered novel.
“Yo! I heard that our Heavy was supposed to be, well, you know, heavy, but damn you’re fa--OWW!” The Bostonian shouted, being met with a swift slap from the man sitting beside him.
“Please ignore Scout here. This rotten bunny doesn’t seem to have any manners.”
“Go to hell, you French bastard!” Scout shot back.
The insults continued and Heavy found himself silently slinking back into his seat. He had the strength to snap both of them like toothpicks if he so desired, but it was better not to end his career before it started.
Along the ride, the bus stopped several times to pick up the rest of the RED team. First came their pyromaniac and engineer, then the sniper and soldier. The demolition’s expert came by himself and the final stop was saved for a relatively young woman in a purple dress.
“Er, hello, everyone. I am Miss Pauling, your boss’s secretary. I’m scheduled to give you guys a tour around the base and to break down your jobs. Raise your hand if you have any questions and please, try to cooperate with one another,” the woman sighed.
Dell, the shortest man on the team with a yellow hardhat, raised his hand.
“Yes, Engineer?” Miss Pauling prompted.
“Isn’t there supposed to be one more fella here with us?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.
Miss Pauling glanced toward the ceiling briefly as if she were really pondering the answer before turning to Engineer.
“Medic’s flight got delayed due to a massive snowstorm in Berlin. He should be here tomorrow at the earliest.”
It was impossible to notice the difference just by looking at it, but Mikhail nearly jerked forward when he felt it. Was he really going insane in his desperation? Had the string really just loosened? It most certainly had, he had felt the pressure ease up ever so slightly, but something in the back of his mind that told him it was just his imagination. The giant shook his head and groaned, barely able to pay attention to anything else Miss Pauling said.
His mind became a battlefield of longing versus absurdity. The thread had suffocated him during his prime. There was no possible explanation as to why his soulmate would be appearing now of all times. By forty seven, Mikhail was overweight, balding, had several scars from his time in Siberia, and was rated ugly by every woman he had attempted to romance. He couldn’t think of a single reason as to why his love would find him attractive now, and it deepened the eternal hole in his heart.
But Heavy held onto the faintest thread of hope. Maybe, just maybe, his suffering was about to come to an end. He would meet with the woman or man fate had binded him to, and he could finally be happy.
That night, Mikhail stared at his bedroom ceiling wide awake. Once their team’s doctor arrived in New Mexico, he would know for certain what destiny had in store for him.
.
Ludwig’s attempt at getting some shut eye on the flight failed. He couldn’t fall asleep even if he wanted to, for his pinkie was regaining its color. Somehow, this job as a battlefield medic that he had selected out of the blue was leading his soul to its missing half.
“It’s only a matter of time,” he murmured to himself, eyes more hopeful than the day he earned his doctorate’s degree.
.
Heavy awoke to the sound of loud yelling and banging on his door.
“Attention! You will be dressed and be stationed in the recreational room for role call in five minutes! That is an order!” Soldier commanded.
The softer, more compassionate voice of Miss Pauling sighed and spoke through the door.
“I’m sorry Heavy. I couldn’t say anything to convince him not to come with me to wake you guys up. Just settle down in the rec room in a few minutes, okay?”
Mikhail groaned, both from a lack of sleep and the sudden wake-up call. He complied, however, adorning his red, short sleeved shirt, his bulletproof vest, the bandolier for his minigun, pants, a belt, and a pair of sturdy combat boots.
When the heavy weapon’s specialist arrived in the rec room, it was absolute chaos. Spy had moved on from insulting Scout to bickering with Sniper, Demoman was already sloshing around a bottle of alcohol, Scout had stolen Engineer’s hardhat and was taunting him with it, and Soldier was shouting at a terrified looking Pyro.
“RED Team! Enough! It’s only the first day and you’re already at each other’s throats!” Miss Pauling stomped, placing her hands on her hips.
Some the the mercenaries, including Heavy, faced towards their higher-up while the others continued to do their own thing.
“Now look, your first battle will begin as soon as Medic arrives. I’m heading over to the airport to pick him up, so I advise you all check over your equipment,” her words more of a command than a suggestion.
Heavy’s eyes widened. He felt it again. 
He decided in that moment that polishing Sascha could wait.
Before Miss Pauling could leave the room, the large man scurried over to her and placed a massive hand on her shoulder to grab her attention.
“Yes, Heavy? Do you need something?” She asked plainly.
Mikhail nodded, his cheeks slightly flushed.
“Da, I want to come to airport with you, if you do not mind. I promise not to cause any problems.”
Pauling raised an eyebrow.
“Pozhaluysta, Miss,” the Russian begged, rubbing his forever blue pinkie with his other hand.
Miss Pauling opened her mouth to speak, but her words died on her lips when she noticed the tiny gesture. Instead, she gave him a short nod of understanding and proceeded out of the building.
.
In the car, Heavy’s leg bounced. His breathing was deep, and his whole body seemed to sweat with fear and anticipation. With every inch the vehicle moved, he could feel the burden on his finger lighten up. This wasn’t just some illusion or dream, it was really happening. After forty seven years of waiting, he was about to meet the love of his life.
Miss Pauling took note of his anxiousness, but didn’t say anything during the trip, giving Mikhail plenty of time to ask himself a million questions. What would his lover look like? Would they be a man or a woman? Would they have a heart of gold, or a rotten core that sought to make the Russian miserable at every turn?
Finally, the airport was in sight. Mikhail could hardly withstand the separation between himself and his soulmate. He wanted, needed to find his other half. He needed to shower them with all of the affection he had been waiting so long to administer. He needed to hear their voice and inhale their scent and feel their body against his own.
Miss Pauling nearly tripped over her high heels trying to catch up with the eager Russian. She had seem some truly heartwarming instances of soulmates meeting over the years, but never before in her life had she seen someone so desperate to unite with their fated love.
.
He had to hold onto a railing as he stepped out of the plane to avoid passing out. 
Ludwig had always experienced air-sickness while flying, but more than that, his hand was trembling. The string that had plagued his right hand for decades was loose, looser than it had ever been before. The doctor was overwhelmed; he wanted to throw up and cry tears of happiness at the same time. This was his moment, his soulmate was waiting for him.
As he stood near the loading gate, the thread loosened further, and it signaled that his soon-to-be lover was getting closer, closer.
Unable to withhold his excitement, Medic dashed across the airport. He got caught up in several crowds and passed right by the luggage pickup, but none of that mattered. He was following his heart’s call now; he let the slackening of his bindings guide his every step.
.
“Heavy! Please slow down!” Miss Pauling yelled, but the giant had blocked her out a long time ago.
There was only one voice he was willing to let in now. He pushed past a group of adults with the tiniest apology as he charged up the stairs. If he were anywhere else, he would have most likely been stared at and thrown out by security. In the chaos of the airport, everyone assumed he was simply running to reunite with a loved one.
An opening in the crowds.
Everything went silent.
The world slowed down.
Mikhail spotted him, his soulmate across the grand building. He was more handsome than he could have ever imagined, and although he didn’t know it yet, Ludwig also firmly believed that he had just encountered an angel.
The soulstring unraveled and landed on the ground.
All remaining distance between them was covered in a second. The force of the impact sent them to the ground, but neither of them cared. Arms wrapped around strong bodies, tears spilled out of adoring eyes, and lips whispered the pledges of love they had so desperately longed to hear.
At last, Mikhail and Ludwig were home.
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phandombigotryarchive · 4 years ago
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Ayo @madamefaust ? You gonna tell me why you're writing about the white ass french De Chagny's being involved in the SLAVE TRADE?
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Playing into the tragic mulatto trope by making Raoul half Black for some diversity points? (See the word bastard when referred to Raoul's Blackness.) All for some fucking fanfiction?
Do you even know the implications of naming a Black/White biracial child a bastard and flat out stating that their white side was involved in the slave trade? It means that child's mother was possibly r*ped. You are implying that Raoul's mother was a victim of slavery and sexual trauma. You are playing into the tragic mulatto trope. You are anti-Black.
You decide to write Raoul as Black. Then you state that his family is involved in the slave trade in the description AND ON TOP OF THAT YOU MAKE HIM A TRAGIC MULATTO. How do you even sound? 💀 FUNNY how you only care about writing Black characters when it's to exploit and fetishize Black trauma for this lily white ass fandom. Much less, for a pharoga fic! (I know most of you pharoga shippers/writers are white. Yes that's a bad thing!)
Is you even BLACK too, madamefaust ? 🤔 And don't give me that "oh I did my research" I DO NOT CARE. IT IS NOT IN A NON-BLACK'S INTERESTS TO BE WRITING BOUT US. You don't speak for us. ESPECIALLY WHEN IT COMES TO SLAVERY LMFAOOOOO
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Let me not forget the fact that she based Raoul's story off the Dumas family. Alexandere Dumas was a biracial Black and White man who wrote the Three Musketeers. His Father, Thomas Alexandre Dumas was a born into slavery in Haiti but was freed and fought in the French army under Napoleon. Do you know how disrespectful it is to base a fictional white aristocratic family off a Black family traumatized by slavery and anti-Blackness for your fanfic? Did you know that many of these BLACK PEOPLE in Haiti suffered brutal conditions under slavery by the French? That many of them died in the Haitian Revolution obtaining their freedom. How could you be so disrespectful as to base off A FICTIONAL WHITE MAN OFF A REAL LIFE BLACK ENSLAVED FAMILY?? MUCH LESS FROM HAITI OF ALL PLACES??????
Do you think slavery is a fun joke? Do you think that me and many other members of my diaspora not knowing where we come from as a result of COLONIALISM and ENSLAVEMENT is something to use as a fanfic trope? Do you think this is a fucking game to you? That making an aristocratic white french family being aligned on the slave trade cute to you?
FUCK YOU.
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This is everyone who left a kudos and bookmarked. Fuck all y'all. Notice any familiar faces? 🤔
I don't expect nothing from this fandom about blocking and accountability cause y'all stay being weirdly racist + colorist with the Daroga, interacting with transphobes and all other types of heinous shit.
So I just want you all to know that hell is a hot place if you keep interacting with this person. And madamefaust? Stay the fuck away from Black people and don't forget to donate to Black Trans Women if you even have a slight bit of remorse. I know you be interacting with them transphobes around here (we can see who you reblog from. I know you've seen the call out posts).
That includes the rest of y'all in this fandom too. Since we're on the topic of anti-Blackness, non-Black people in this fandom love to make and share fanart of Black Christine, yet they call and paint Erik as abusive while they draw their Black Christine fanart. What does that tell you, when you have a Black woman in a relationship or friendship with a white man, who you view as abusive? This implies that you want Black women to be abused. You people claim to love Norm Lewis' Phantom and interact with non-white adaptations of the characters yet you paint Erik abusive and depraved. So why do you like Norm's Erik so much, huh? What does that tell you about how you see a Black Erik? You people profit off the pain and consumption of Black people under the guise of your false representation. You are anti Black and cover it under the guise of, "we welcome everyone."
You don't.
You don't make Black fans safe with interacting with @filthybonnet an anti-Black terf as well as madamefaust who thinks she's so high and mighty as to exploit Black trauma under the guise of "historical accuracy". You don't make Irani, darkskinned and Muslim fans feel safe when you fetishize the Daroga or call him slurs under the guise of calling out racism. The monkey "jokes" aren't funny. You are colorists. You make make mentally ill fans unsafe when you demonize Erik's trauma. You make fans with facial differences unsafe when you demonize Erik's face. You consistently make trans women unsafe by refusing to stop interacting with terfs. We can go on forever.
And if you just scroll past this post, knowing what goes on in this bullshit ass fandom, you're part of the problem. I bet y'all don't even care anyways.
Anyways Happy Black History month and fuck the ph*ndom.
I do not like y'all.
I better not see not one of y'all ever interact with my fics. I'll see all y'all in hell ♥️ and I do hope all y'all block me too. That's what you're good for anyways LMFAOOOOO
Better not see y'all bum asses talmbout ooh "I love Norm Lewis' Phantom. Ooh, I love Derrick Davis Phantom 🥰" while y'all support this anti-Black racist white woman. You only love Black people when they're suffering or when they're performing for you. You consume our pain and trauma and expect us to hold hands with you while you view us as subhuman. Similar to how y'all treat Erik.
Must be why you like Black Phantoms so much. Anyways.
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Oh look what we have here! madamefaust putting out some performative ass shit about how she "loves" Norm Lewis whilst writing the tragic mulatto trope ft slavery on Raoul De Chagny 🤔
(I won't delete this btw, it's people like you that make this fandom impossible to navigate as a non-white person. You are a grown ass woman. I'm sure you can handle the pressure if you can write a slavery AU. I ain't listening to your non-Black crocodile tears too, so don't come into my inbox playing kumbaya cause it's not gonna work on my ass. Go read a book on anti-Blackness if you're such a librarian or better yet? Stay away from Black people all together. I know you be liking and reblogging posts featuring and from Black people too. I'm not accepting no apology neither. Go take that up with my ancestors.)
P.S: A colonized person venting out their oppression via the medium they enjoy is different from a privileged person weaponizing oppression for their own consumption and enjoyment. The historical traumatizing brutalization of Black PEOPLE is not your little plaything.
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omgrachwrites · 4 years ago
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The Princess and The Duke - Chapter Two
Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader
Summary: As the Princess of  Spain, you were always supposed to marry King James of England to make  an alliance between Spain and England. When he marries a woman at his  court for love, you are married off to his best friend, Sirius Black the  Duke of Bedford to keep the alliance. However, the court is riddled  with secrets and a rebel in the North starts to rise against the Throne.  Royal AU.
Warnings: fluff, teeny bit of angst, Spanish translated by using Google Translate :(
Words: 2431
Disclaimer(s): This gif does not belong to me and I’m so sorry if this Spanish is wrong.
Translation(s):  Su Alteza, espero que su estadía haya sido placentera - Your Highness, I hope your stay has been pleasant
Si, gracias. Tu hermano es un hombre muy amable, me impresiona tu español - Yes, thank you. Your brother is a kind man, your Spanish impresses me
A/N: Again, I’m so so sorry if this Spanish is wrong! Thank you so much for all the love on this fic already! Hope you guys enjoy this part and please let me know what you think and let me know if you would like to be tagged! I love you all! xxx
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Chapter Two - Flowers in Your Hair
For the first month and a half that the Spanish Princess had been at the grand chateau in the countryside outside Paris, she had brought so much warmth and light to it. Sirius used to close the heavy curtains just after the sun had set but Y/N preferred to keep them open for much longer, only closing them just before she retired to bed. All the servants seemed to be delighted, now the chateau was always full of light whether it was warm yellow sunlight or the silver shine of the moon. Sirius had never seen the moon shine quite so beautifully.
Y/N was kind to the servants and they seemed to glow from her affectionate attention, though she hardly bestowed any warmth on Sirius – she wasn’t rude or anything  - but he expected that. It was why he wanted to wait a little while before they were married, Sirius hoped that they would grow to care for each other.
Sirius found her in the glass sun house, her pretty eyes fixed on a thick tome about myths and legends. He was contented with watching her for a few moments, her eyes moved across the page and she had a small smile on her face, “Your Highness,” he cleared his throat and she raised her graceful head to smile wanly at him, “I thought we might visit the village on the morrow so you can meet the townspeople.”
Y/N nodded as she played with the tresses of her hair, “I would like that, I would be happy to meet them. As long as I’m back for my siesta, I like having it beneath the apple tree.”
Sirius frowned a little as the new word rolled off her tongue; he knew that he should have learnt some Spanish in anticipation of her arrival. “I’m sorry, siesta? I’m not sure what that is,” he rubbed the back of his neck nervously and he saw the disappointment in her eyes.
“It’s a sleep in the day my dear brother,” a voice full of laughter called out. Sirius momentarily closed his eyes, fighting back a sigh as he turned to see his handsome younger brother at his side. Regulus really should have been properly announced, Sirius hated it when he just turned up like this, “and this must be the beautiful Princess Y/N,” he bowed and Y/N smiled at him graciously, “Su Alteza, espero que su estadía haya sido placentera,” he spoke in such perfect fluent Spanish that Sirius wanted to strangle him.
Y/N’s soft lips parted in surprise before she smiled and spoke back, “Si, gracias. Tu hermano es un hombre muy amable, me impresiona tu español “Yes,” Regulus grinned, reverting back to English and he clapped Sirius on the shoulder, “my dear brother is only fluent in French and English,” he laughed and Sirius felt his nostrils flare with anger but before he could remark, Y/N beat him to it.
She gave Regulus a sharp look, “I think that it’s rather impressive, I cannot speak any French,” she looked back over at Sirius and her face softened as she smiled at him.
Sirius beamed back at her, feeling his face flush with delight, Regulus held up his hands in mock defence before he backed away with a smirk on his face. Sirius smiled at Y/N as he walked towards her, “thank you, Your Highness.”
Y/N shrugged nonchalantly, “nobody – especially those in your family – can take your skills and accomplishments away from you, remember that,” she paused as she smiled prettily at him, “I think that in view of the circumstances you’d better call me Y/N,” she giggled before she glided out of the sun house, leaving behind the sweet smell of roses.
They left early the next morning and rode beneath the perfect blue sky, Sirius had decided to take her the scenic route, he was sure that she’d like it. Y/N looked exceptionally beautiful and ethereal in a dress of green silk and a garland of spring flowers in her hair. The pair of them mostly rode in silence as YN marvelled at the beautiful French countryside, her face aglow with pleasure and joy.
“France is so beautiful,” she hesitated, “from what I’ve seen of it anyway, I think that I prefer this landscape to the one in England,” she smiled at him from where she was riding on her chestnut horse.
Sirius smiled and nodded, he loved the French countryside too, it had a beauty that the English countryside couldn’t achieve, “I agree but England is beautiful in its way. I’ll show you,” Y/N smiled as her cheeks flushed with delight and she rode a little bit faster.
When they were on the outskirts of the quaint little village, Y/N dismounted and walked in on foot, leading her horse. Sirius grinned down at her before he exchanged a look with his small troupe of guards who inclined their heads at him. The Duke followed suit and walked alongside his future bride as they entered the village together. Y/N radiated warmth as the townspeople called her name; the women blew kisses while the men shouted bawdy remarks.
Sirius admired Y/N as she talked to the townspeople, any other woman would have been cold to people who were beneath her, but not Y/N. She hugged the ladies and kissed the men on the cheeks and Sirius couldn’t help but feel proud. There was a little girl who was hiding shyly behind her mother so Y/N beamed beautifully at the girl as she crouched down so she was at the child’s level.
“Hello sweetheart, what’s your name?”
“Amelia,” the girl whispered, still hiding her face.
“Amelia, it’s a pleasure to meet you, my name is Y/N.”
Amelia nodded, smiling unsurely before thrusting a bunch of daises at Y/N, “these are for you.”
Y/N gasped in delight as she took the flowers, “thank you! They’re beautiful,” she smiled as she plucked a flower before placing it amongst Amelia’s auburn curls, “there, now you have flowers in your hair.”
“Just like you!” Amelia beamed before hugging Y/N.
Y/N giggled as she hugged the little girl tight. Sirius smiled as he watched the interaction between them, she would have made an amazing Queen. Y/N seemed to charm almost everyone – some of the villagers remained stony faced – and she didn’t seem too unaffected by the villagers who didn’t seem to be impressed.
Sirius and Y/N left the village when the sun was high in the sky and the air was balmy and stifling. Sirius helped Y/N onto her horse and they rode out of town, waving goodbye to the villagers. Sirius smiled over at Y/N in pride as they rode side by side on the forest path, it had been a successful day and Y/N had done incredibly well.
“You have the knack for this kind of thing Y/N.”
The Princess smiled at him as the springtime wind blew through her hair, “for as long as I can remember I’ve always been taught to be just and fair. You can’t rule with fear, the common people will never love you if they fear you and it’s much better to be loved than feared,” she sighed wistfully and all Sirius could do was gape at her. How was she even real?
It was a pleasant ride, Y/N seemed to enjoy the sight of the dappled sunlight as it filtered through the thicket of trees and she smiled at the noise of a nearby stream. When they rode beneath the cherry blossom trees Y/N made a small sound of delight as she looked up at the pink petals.
“This is beautiful; we have nothing like this in Spain.”
“They’re cherry blossom trees; soon this whole path will be pink from the fallen petals.”
Y/N sighed happily as she glanced back up at the pretty tree, “that would be a marvel to see.”
Sirius suddenly had the burning need to see cherry blossom petals carelessly caught in her tresses. The young man flushed and willed the yearning to go away. His bride was beautiful for certain but he didn’t want to rush anything.
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You smiled in bliss as you walked down the bright sweet smelling corridor of the beautiful French chateau, you glanced through the huge windows at the world outside and you grinned as you saw the rolling hills washed with dazzling sunlight. You could find beauty in everything when you were happy – and you were – you wouldn’t have thought it was possible for you to be happy anywhere apart from Spain. You found it easy to be happy in France, Sirius was handsome and kind and his lands were beautiful. It was like a midsummers dream in the height of springtime.
However, you couldn’t help but almost resent Sirius though you knew that it wasn’t his fault. It felt like he had stolen your birth right away from you, even though he had no say in the matter and you had never wanted to be Queen. Perhaps you felt this way was because as soon as you got married to Sirius you wouldn’t be a Princess, for the first time in your life you wouldn’t be titled as a Princess. Maybe you resented him because there was a rumour that he had bastards all over England but that was none of your business, as long as he didn’t father any when you became his wife. You understood that men had needs that women were destroyed for.
Whatever the reason, you were trying to get over it because you didn’t want a marriage that was built on resentment. You wouldn’t have a marriage like your parents. It was warm and sweet smelling when you walked into your expansive chambers and saw Sofia standing by the steaming hot bath that was full of dried rose petals and dried herbs. Sofia smiled at you, her gorgeous blue eyes sparkling and you smiled back. Sofia was your very best friend, you were going to make sure that she married well but you also wanted her to marry for love.
You got undressed and thanked her as she helped you into the boiling hot bath, it felt like heaven and you sighed in contentment as her fingers gently combed through your hair as you lay back, closing your eyes.
“Did you have a pleasant time visiting the townspeople yesterday?” Sofia asked as she washed your hair.
You smiled and nodded, remembering how handsome Sirius had looked upon his white horse. He was a complete cliché, “I did, we left for the village so early that I didn’t want to wake you,” you apologised, “I wish you could have seen it Sofia, it was so beautiful and they were so nice,�� you remembered the little girl, Amelia fondly.
“You were always so good at talking and connecting with the people as I recall, I always admired that about you.”
Sofia’s words were sweet but you sighed and fiddled with a rose petal, “my father taught me when I was a little girl.”
Sofia squeezed your shoulder, “I remember, you even managed to charm my Aunt and we all know what a battle-axe she is,” she giggled, making you smile, “but you can’t blame Sirius for the fact that you’re not the Queen, you never wanted it. You need to warm to him, he’s handsome and kind, and I’m certain that he’s got no bodies in his cellar. He’s only ever welcomed us; you’re lucky Y/N.
“I know,” you muttered, bringing your legs up to your chest and wrapping your arms around them before you turned around to look at your dear friend, “I promise that I’ll find you a good man who you will love and in return he will love you.”
Sofia’s eyes teared up as her olive skin deepened with a flush, “thank you, Your Highness.”
You and Sofia both peeked round the doorframe of the study to see Remus looking at Sirius with a worried look on his face while Sirius dragged a hand through his tangled hair and pressed his fingers against his temples. Sirius had asked you if you would meet him in his study after dinner, he had some news for you and you hoped that it wasn’t anything bad. You and Sofia exchanged worried glances as you swallowed and knocked against the doorframe.
“Sirius?” you called softly, not wanting to startle him.
Sirius rubbed a hand down his face as he looked up and smiled weakly at you worry was etched into his handsome face, “Y/N,” he looked at Remus, biting his lip, “Remus can you and Lady Sofia give us a moment?” at Sirius’ request you looked at Sofia who nodded with a flush on her face.
“Of course,” Remus smiled kindly as he offered Sofia his arm and he escorted her down the corridor, you hoped that Remus would show her around the gardens. The Earl of Warwick was a nice man.
You turned to look at Sirius who looked like he was about to cry and your heart melted just a little bit as you went to him and sat opposite him, placing a gentle hand on his arm, “what happened? What’s wrong?”
Sirius smiled at you but you could see how tired he was, “King James wrote to me, there’s news of trouble brewing in the North of England, it could just be rumours,” he sighed, “or something a lot worse. James wants Remus, Peter and I to meet secretly and discuss it before he goes to his council. He trusts us more than anyone on that damned council; this will be so much easier when we’re all at court.”
“Okay,” you wondered why he was telling you this and you were struck with hope, he respected you enough to tell you his troubles and that was certainly a start.
“I want you to meet with us; we all agree that a Princess of the Castile, a daughter of a Warrior King and Queen would be very beneficial. We will make your voice heard, we’ll have to meet as soon as possible,” he smiled and you felt a floaty feeling in your chest.
He would talk to the King’s council on your behalf because you both knew that they wouldn’t listen to you. He wanted your input, he cared about what you had to say and in that moment, that was everything to you, “thank you Sirius, you don’t know how much that means to me,” you beamed and in that moment you knew that Sofia was right. You were lucky, despite your circumstances.
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@smiithys​ @elayneblack​ @amelie-black​ @siriuslyjanhvi​ @pregnant-piggy​ @lindatreb​ @mabelle-cherie​ @hxrgreeves​ @britishspidey​ @mads-bri​ @classicrocketqueen​ @sxtansqueen​ @hufflepuffzutara​ @missmulti​ @bruxa0007
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ren-therose · 4 years ago
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It Was Always You
Dr. John Watson X F!Reader (3.9k words)
Summary: You walk into 221B, knowing full well that Sherlock, a colleague of yours, isn’t there; however, his flatmate John is. In his own jealousy and anger at Sherlock, a misunderstanding occurs, and you attempt to resolve it. 
Warnings: angst, fluff, jealousy, smut 18+, thigh riding, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), this mans sexy hands ( dont @ me)
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Mrs. Hudson was kind enough to let me into 221 Baker Street, knowing that no one else would ever answer the door except her. When she opened it, she was taken aback to see me standing there, still in my work clothes with an envelope in hand. 
“Oh hello dear! I thought you were Sherlock. That man always seems to lose the keys to the flat. I have had to make so many copies for him. Just the other day, I caught him trying to slip his hand through the mail slot and, oh! Anyway, that’s probably not why you are here- you must be here to see Sherlock! If you’re looking for him, he isn’t here love, but you might be able to find him-”
I cut her off, grabbing her hands and pulling her in to give her a tight hug, landing a peck on her cheek as I pulled away. I loved the boys landlady, but Mrs. Hudson had a way of going on incredibly long and irrelevant tangents. She made the best biscuits in all of London though. 
“No Mrs. Hudson, I’m not here to see Sherlock....I...I-I’m actually here to see John,” I said sheepishly, looking down at the envelope in my hands. I shook my head, trying not to get caught up in my own stress, and stretched the envelope out to her. “Mrs. Hudson, before I go up, I have a present for you. Two tickets to the opera, and a handsome man waiting for you there. I know he is the one that has been bringing you those gorgeous roses,” I said, looking behind her to see the vase on the entry table. Her eyes widened as she shifts slightly, stealing a glance at the flowers, as if she was checking to see if they were still there. She turned, taking the envelope and pulled out the tickets to the Royal Opera House, only to immediately shove them back in. She tried to push the envelope into my hands again, but I declined, making a surrendering gesture and backing away. We quarreled for a few moments, pivoting around the tiny entry until I finally made it up a few of the steps, asserting my dominance to show the unwillingness I held. 
“Ms. Y/N, you are quite the meddler,” she said with a shake of her head, opening the envelope once more. “...what time does the show start....my goodness! I have to change now!” Mrs. Hudson exclaims. Lucky for her, my plan was already in motion.
“You have 15 minutes until the private car will come to pick you up, ma’am, but you always look lovely,” I reply with a wink. 
“Wear red!” I call back to her, as I climb the stairs to the second floor, hearing her coo as she made her way back into her flat. 
The door of 221B was unlatched, and I didn’t think John would mind the intrusion. He too would probably just assume it was Sherlock waltzing in. I opened the door to see the doctor, sitting in his usual spot, typing away on a new blog post. He had today's morning paper next to him, as though he needed to cite another source about his own adventure with the famous Mr. Holmes. He didn’t look up, but instead called out, “I thought you weren’t coming back tonight. Something to do with some new case? Or was it perhaps Mycroft? I can’t keep track of you anymore, though I’m sure you care little for my location and/or well-being if it doesn’t affect a case”. He was clearly in a mood, but it was my fault Sherlock was out. He may be a genius, but he didn’t seem to realize that Molly and I had played him. He would be busy playing with cadavers all evening. 
I took off my coat and hung it on the rack by the door, as well as my scarf. My work clothes were not usually something I would wear around their flat, but I had come straight from the university where I teach and research human behavior, attitude and persuasion. The button up blouse and navy blue skirt were a staple to my wardrobe of simplistic outfits. The only bits character I would add to my looks were my shoes. Today, I had settled on well-loved, leather loafers with a good sized heel that matched my tweed coat. I kicked off the shoes and walked behind him into the kitchen, looking for something to defrost the chill I had caught from walking across town. Or maybe it was the nerves. 
“You better not be placing any more human remains in our fridge Sherlock. I’m tired of the disembodied heads, an-and, and, singular eyeballs! It’s like they are staring into my soul...” his words trailed off. “Y/N?” he asked with a hint of fear, as well as amusement. He knew it was me, but it was hard to tell from the outfit and position I was in. I could very well be a murderer, client, or complete stranger, rummaging through his fridge. But it was me. I was bent over in the fridge, looking for cream, and I hadn’t noticed him stand and turn back towards the kitchen. As my arse stuck out from the behind the door of the fridge, I called back to him. “Do you want a drink? I feel like a tea,” I exclaimed, standing up right to look at him with bottle of creamer in hand. I could see him relax as he looked me over, checking to make sure I wasn’t in any distress. My hair was in a French-twist of sorts, but by this time of day, it usually fell around my face and would lose its form, becoming a messy blob. I brushed the hair out of my face, giving him a smile as I set the creamer down on the meth-lab of a kitchen island. I often acted manic around them, trying to control my own obsessions and addictions, but they both looked out for me. John enjoyed caring for people, especially Sherlock and I. 
He shook his head, complete with his mental examination of me. “I didn’t know you were coming over. You know that Sherlock isn’t-”
I pounded my fist on the counter, not hard enough to be angry, but enough to show my irritation. “Why does everyone think I have come to see Sherlock? Even Mrs. Hudson had assumed!” I exclaimed, walking across the kitchen. Huffily, I grabbed the kettle and began to fill it with tap water, leaning over the sink as I lifted my heels, back and forth, shifting my weight. 
“Well,” he began, rubbing the back of his neck, looking off to the side. “The two of you work closely together, I just assumed that you would want to pick his brain about some new theory you’re trying to publish,” he murmured.
“Jesus John, you make it sound so salacious,” I laugh, reaching up to get the mugs. “What do you think we are doing at my office, or when we are gone?”  I had to go on my tip toes, especially since I had taken off my heels. As I reached, I didn’t notice that John had been looking over my stocking covered legs, taking in the tone of my calves as I struggled to grasp a mug. 
“Here, let me help you Y/N,” John said, rushing over to help grab the cups. I had already grabbed them, but his hands wrapped around mine, supporting the mugs and me. He was so close, my chest mere inches from his, the drinkware between us. He looked down between us, then back at me, a look in his eyes that gave my stomach butterflies. 
Before I could get ahead of myself, I stepped back to put the mugs on the island next to us. “John, Sherlock is merely a colleague with an annoyingly witty brain that can help me with my publication. I can’t stand the bastard most of the time,” I say, pouring an ungodly amount of sugar into my cup. 
“Well, that makes two of us. I just thought you fancied him, especially since you come over and help take care of the place quite a bit.”
It was true. Anytime I came over to ask them about the latest case and the actions of the killer, I found myself tidying up, doing dishes, and even making meals. But it wasn’t for Sherlock. 
“No John, that’s not why I help out,” I say tentatively. My body was facing the many bottles and beakers on the counter in the center of the kitchen, while he stood next to me, leaning his side against the counter, still looking down at me. Taking a deep breath, I turn to face him. “John, it’s because I-”
Before I could finish, we hear the familiar owl-like call from Mrs. Hudson to vocalize her entrance. “Hoo Hoo! Y/N, thank you again for these tickets. However will I repay you?” the woman asks as she wraps her arms around me for a hug. 
“Oh Mrs. Hudson, consider it an early gift!” I say, squeezing her back.
“There is no holiday coming up,” John says inquisitively.
“Sometimes, there isn’t a reason, John,” I say with a little edge to my voice. “Give my best to your handsome admirer!”
“I will love, I will. See you later tonight!” she chirped as she walked out. 
“Or not,” I mumble with a small snicker. 
“Heard that!” She calls out behind her. For an older woman, her hearing can be remarkable. I laugh, and John emits a slight chuckle as well. We look to each other once more, smiling with content, though I can see John’s brain trying to solve the question of why I gave her the tickets. But before he could interrogate me, the kettle begins to whistle. 
“Tea’s ready. Earl Grey or Black Tea?” I ask, quickly moving past him to the tin. 
“I know you know what I like,” he says, arms crossed as he watches me pick out the bags. 
“I just thought I’d give you an option,” I say, bringing the bags back and dropping them in the mugs. “But I know not to ask about the sugar,” I say with a wink, a sense of my more relaxed self peeking through. I turn to grab the kettle, but John has already done so. I am standing in front of the mugs, when he comes up behind me, pouring the water from around. He is close to me, but not touching. His other hand is just barely ghosting over mine, hanging by my side. 
“I’m so sorry, I could move,” I manage to say, stepping off to the side. 
“No, no, you’re no bother,” he softly says. I can smell the aftershave on his skin, a smell I had often found so comforting. This new proximity, however, allowed me to better isolate the smell of pine, a hint of mint, and a spice I couldn’t name. 
I stirred our drinks, pulling the teabags out now that they had steeped. Adding a dash of cream to mine, I hold it the cup up, signaling a toast. 
“To knowing one another.”
“To knowing one another,” he responds. 
We clink our cups, taking a sip, not breaking eye contact. I lower my mug, breaking the stare, as I look down at the light brown color of the tea. John clears his throat, moving slightly closer as he looks down at the contents of his own drink.
“Umm..should we, maybe, er, sit?” I say, sounding as though I hadn’t just barged in there several minutes before like I owned the place.
“Yeah, that sounds like a good idea,” he replies. 
I was the first to move, coming around to his chair and sitting in the warm seat. 
“Yeah, no, get up that’s my spot,” he says, shaking his head as he comes to stand in front of me. 
“Sherlock isn’t here, why can’t you sit in his seat?” I ask, pulling my legs up into the cushion, tucking them under my bum. 
“I can, but I was in the middle of writing something,” he says, hesitantly sitting down in his friends leather chair. 
“I’ll proof it before you continue,” I say, picking up his laptop to put in my lap. He sighs across from me, clearly annoyed. I toss the paper at him. “Here, do the word puzzle or something. Sherlock can’t bother us “ordinary” people about it if we solve it without him around,” I say, scrolling to the beginning of his post. 
He picks up the pencil next to the chair, searching the pages for the crossword. As I begin reading, I can’t help but look up to steal glances at the doctor across from me, a man who is constantly overshadowed by the genius he solves crimes with. Sherlock had once told me that while he solves crimes, Watson saves lives. I wonder if he will need to save that for a speech one day, but for now, it reminds me of what an incredible man John is. He has saved my life on many occasions, probably not even knowing, though if he did, probably never taking the credit. 
“John, this might be your best entry yet,” I exclaim. Though I felt he was too humble in his writing, he did a wonderful job of painting a picture for the reader and giving us a map inside the detectives thought process. 
“No no, it was all Sherlock. He is always the one who solves it,” he says without looking up. 
I set the laptop down beside me, pulling my legs down to be crossed over one another at the ankles.
“John, you don’t think very highly of yourself and...well.... it breaks my heart. Truly. Sherlock can’t do these things without you,” I say, looking at the newspaper that hides his face. 
“Well, it isn’t without your help around here that I don’t kill him. You’re my saving grace, Y/N,” he says softly. My breathing hitches in my throat. Now was as good a time as any. He still hasn’t moved the paper, as if afraid to see me reaction. Quietly, I slip from the chair to my knees. I move towards him and my place a hand on the top of his leg. He lowers the paper, looking into my bright eyes. As he sets the paper down beside him, John sits up a bit more, leaning in to me. I straighten up, bringing my face closer to his. My hand goes to his cheek, rubbing it softly with my thumb. 
“John, it’s always been you,” I whisper. 
I slide my hand to the nape of his neck, drawing him. He leans down with parted lips, grabbing my face with both of his hands and kisses me. 
Years of knowing the two men, and all I could think of was this moment, the one I never knew if I could have. Our lips fit like puzzle pieces, one on top of the other, allowing for us to feel the buzz of our connection as it lingered on. My other hand had gone to his sweater and was now gripping it, the only thing left grounding me to the earth. As we pulled away, our eyes met, as they had so many times, and the look that we saw finally had a name: desire. 
I pulled him back in again, this time with more passion and the need to truly feel that he was mine. His hands had moved from my face down to my waist, and pulled me up onto his lap. My skirt rode up so that I could straddle him, and I prayed it wouldn’t rip (but if it did, i wouldn’t feel too bad).The feeling of his grip around my torso brought back the butterflies, as we gave sharp, open mouthed kisses, our bodies closer than they had ever been. His mouth started to trail from my mine, down to my jaw, under to my neck, causes little hiccup-like gasps to escape me. My hands were on his neck and in his hair, scratching softly to encourage this. As he came down to my collarbone, he stopped abruptly and pulled back to look at me. 
“Is something wrong?” I asked, worry clouding my face. I start to get off of him when his arms pull me back, holding me in his lap. 
“No no, it’s just...we are in Sherlock's chair,” he says awkwardly. 
“Do you think I care whose chair it is John? Besides it’s a bit better for sitting on you and I don’t think I want to get off you anytime soon,” I say smuggly, dragging my hands down to his chest. 
“Oh you like sitting in my lap,” he responds, looking quite proud of himself. In response, I rolled my hips against him, feeling him grow underneath me. I bite my lip as I lean to whisper “feels like you do too”. I lick the shell of his ear, exhaling softly. 
A low groan comes from his throat and he places his hands on my waist, giving them a pull that causes my body to roll against him once more. I shiver, dropping my head back as I do so. I don’t think either of us have done something like this since we were quite young, but the friction of it, matched with our tension we had stored for years felt so good. 
As he continued to roll my hips against his, I leaned back down to kiss him, this time, allowing for him to search my mouth. My hands went to his sweater as I peeled it off of him. I then started unbuttoning his shirt, dragging my nails as I did so. This caused him to buck up into me and I let out a yelp, grinding down against him. 
“Here,” he said, lifting me from his lap to his knee. “I want you to ride it for me, could you love?”
How could I say no? Immediately, I rocked against him, feeling myself grow wetter. My skirt was still up around my waist, but as he undid my blouse, He could see that I had a matching set of lingerie underneath. He smirked with a low growl, wrapping his arm around me again, letting my blouse hang freely as he pulled my chest to his mouth. He left love bites on the tops of my chest, suckling and licking as he pulled my bra away from my nipples. They were already perked up from the way I was still grinding onto his knee, but the moment his mouth latched onto my right nipple, I couldn’t help but pull at his hair. He moaned against my breast, causing a vibration that ripped through my body. 
“John, I’m so close, please help me,” I gasp, rocking myself in a rhythm I could barely keep. He removes his mouth from my chest, and I drop my forehead to his, as he moves his hands to take control of my waist once more. He tenses his thigh underneath me, creating a new pressure against my clit. I cry out, wrapping my arms tighter around his neck. 
“Right there John, please don’t stop,” I choke, trying to breathe a little deeper for fear I might hyperventilate. 
He plants a kiss on my lips, pulling my lip away from between his teeth. My legs begin to shake as my orgasm takes my body, releasing my fluids onto his thigh as he continues to roll my hips through it. I can barely sit up, as he lays me down to rest against his chest, drawing on my back with his finger. 
“That was so good, Y/N, you did so good for me,” he whispers. I smile, kissing his neck. His eyes flutter closed as I continue to kiss and suck at his neck. As I swing my leg off of him so that I am once again between his legs, I slowly start kissing down to his chest, licking up, and then continuing to kiss back down. 
“Jesus, love, you’re gonna be the death of me he says, a hand on his forehead as he looks down to see me biting at his pelvic bone, while my hands creep up his thighs to his belt. I can feel his hard on against my boner, and I feel bad for neglecting it during my ride, but I know how to make it up to him. Once I undid his pants, I started shimming them down him. Pulling his swollen cock out from his trousers, I can already see the beads of precum seeping from his slit. I involuntarily lick my lips, before I give his cock a slow stroke. 
John groans above me, his head rolled back and to the side, looking at me with a smile. I smile back, maintaining eye contact as I lean down to plant a kiss on the tip of his dick. His mouth parts lightly as his breathing becomes more shallow, waiting to see what I will do next. I kiss my way down his shaft, all the way to his balls, holding them in one hand while I continued to slowly pump his member in my other. I sucked at them for a moment, releasing them with a pop, causing him to buck up into my hand. I open my mouth and let my tongue drag all the way up the underside of his cock, until I reach the top. I wrap my lips around him, slowly pushing my head down as far as I could take him. His hand goes for my hair, which at this point had fallen out of my usual work-do, so that he could see my face. 
“Oh...you know what you’re doing. Keep going love,” he groans out, desperate for more. 
I begin to bob my head up and down, taking the rest of shaft in my hand. I use my tongue as well to swipe of his dick as I messily blow the doctor above me. It was no surprise to learn that he had jerked off to this very thought many times, but to actually have it happen was a dream come true for him. As I continue to work his cock, the wetness of my vagina continues to throb at the thought that he could be inside me. I can feel him getting closer as his moans become more strained and grip on my hair tightens. 
“Oh, oh, Y/N, you’re gonna have to stop love, I wanna be inside you when I finish,” he says, looking down on me, signaling our next move. I look up at him as I go down as far as I can, gagging on his dick while little tears prick at the corner of my eyes. He pulls me off of him by my hair, leaning down to kiss me sloppily. I had never seen the army doctor so disheveled before, but I loved this different side of him. I stood up to straddle him once more, and as I sat, he took his fingers and ran them through my slit. I hissed at the action, not wanting his fingers when I was ready for his cock. But he took the cum and slickness from my first orgasm and rubbed it onto his cock, preparing me for it. As I sat up, he held his tip to my entrance, looking into my eyes for the green light. I slid down onto him, my mouth gaping open with a sharp inhale as he filled me. 
“Jesus Christ...” was all he could say, as I sat with him inside me, both of us half dressed in his living room. 
I rolled my hips as I had when I first sat on him, shivering at the girth of his member. I found a rhythm to pace myself with, causing us to pant and groan in unison. As I bounced on him, he brushed my hair behind my ears, cupping my face while I braced myself with my hands on his chest. 
He slid down a little shifting the angle of him inside me, causing him to hit my g-spot. 
“Jesus, John, that’s it, right there,” I cry, rolling my hips against him. His hands move to wrap around my waist once more, as he takes control, pounding up into me. I shouted, leaning forward with one hand on the back of the chair, the other supporting his neck. Although my mouth was on his, all I could do was moan into him as he relentless hit spot that needed him most. 
“Touch yourself,” he demanded. It was a voice he used when he needed to be taken seriously and I wasn’t about to go against him. I snaked my hand between us and made tight circles are my clit, rolling against him and my hand.
“John, please, I can’t, I’m gonna cu-”
He cut me off by sitting up a bit more and replacing my hand with his. I shouted as I gripped his shoulders, riding his cock as the tension broke. I began to pulse around him as I cried out his name over and over. My orgasm ripped through me, and before I could stop myself, I was squirting on top of Dr. John Watson. 
He groaned out, “Y/n, Y/n, oh my god, good girl,” as he bucked up into me, coating my walls with his cum. 
We rode out our high, forehead to forehead, trying to catch our breaths as our eyes remained close. After a few moments passed, we opened our eyes, looking to see if what we had done was a mistake. But there was no trace of regret in either of our faces. 
“I’m yours, Dr. Watson,” I say, taking his face in my hand. He leans into me, then turning to kiss the inside of my hand. “I was always yours”. 
Still inside me, we look around. Nothing had changed, except for maybe our relationship status. 
“Do you think he will know?” I ask. 
“There is not a doubt in my mind,” John replies. 
“But do you think he will know we did it in his chair?” I laugh. 
“Not if we clean it well enough,” he says, leaning in to rub his nose against mine. 
We get up and begin cleaning, though it was hard to bend over, as my knees buckled nearly every time. By the time we had cleaned the room and ourselves up, it was nearly one in the morning. I moved my clothes into Johns room so that Sherlock wouldn’t notice if I slipped out the next morning. All the dishes had been dried and put away so that there was no trace of a guest. 
As John and I lay in bed together, waiting for Sherlock to come home, John leans over and asks cautiously, “is this why you gave Mrs. Hudson those opera tickets?”
I freeze for a moment, knowing that I had been caught. 
“I just needed her to not interrupt when I told you how I felt. I didn’t know it would lead to...well, this,” I giggle. 
He laughs, pulling me towards him to kiss my forehead. “God, I love you.”
He freezes against my forehead, realizing it was the first time we had ever even said the word love to one another, even as friends. 
I pull him down by the chin, to kiss him softly on the lips. “I love you too”.
---
A few hours after we had fallen asleep, we were awoken to the bedroom door being swung open and slammed against the wall. 
“On my chair, John?!”
~~~~~~~~~~~
If you can’t tell, Martin Freeman rules my life and I have a deep and passionate love for him. I hope you enjoyed and look out for more of this because I am on a ROLL! xoxo
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fu-aki · 4 years ago
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Chapter 5
So this is going to be my attempt to summarize part 1 of the beginning part of chapter 5 (episode 1 to 21) of twisted wonderland.
Again, spoiler alert since I’m about to write out everything that happened, and I apologize for my grammar and horrible French in advance.
 You heard someone singing -> it was the scenes from snow white when the evil queen asks the mirror on the wall and snow white singing into the well  -> player choice: a beautiful women was watching from the window…/ I felt like I’ve meet that beautiful person before… -> you woke up from dream -> in the main street, you meet up with Ace and Deuce -> after seeing the statue you realized you’ve seen them in your dreams before
In classroom -> Ace felt it wasn’t weird to have dreams like that when you see those statues everyday -> you mentioned about in your dream “mickey” appeared in the mirror -> Ace and Deuce never heard of that name before -> Ace suggest to take a photo of it with the “ghost camera” you got from Crowley since it can even take pictures of ghosts
Crewel showed up and explained about “nationwide sorcerer training school culture festival” -> it’s a 2 day event with representative students from all the sorcerer training school, a festival with speeches and debates all about magic related music & art topics -> for NRC, all the 4th year students will be send all across country for internship and research study -> they will all come back on that day to share their experience and result -> end of the homeroom -> fight Crewel for the defense magic class
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In the dorm leader meeting -> Malleus is not there again -> Lilia mentions how he couldn’t find Malleus anymore after class so he’s here instead -> Idia questions if Malleus is missing meetings on purpose -> Lilia talked about how fairies feels time different from humans, and how Malleus have some troublesome karma on him as well
The meeting starts -> Riddle started reporting everything about the event -> but the “vocal & dance championship” has surprising amount of media focused on it -> Riddle was surprised since he thought it was just a chorus competition -> because of the time change and consideration for different types of music, now it includes singing, dancing, and performance -> and because of how popular it got, it becomes one chance for students to professionally debut -> and now it’s getting extra notice because the famous influencer Vil and Neige are in it -> Lilia commented how Neige is getting really popular online and on TV -> Idia surprised that people in Diasomnia actually go online -> Lilia “kuhuhu, of course, we are still just students in high school, we watch dramas and play games.” -> Crowley “Vila and Neige, 2 world known famous celebrity are going to appear in VDC, it won’t be an exaggeration to call it the highest degree of attention we are going to get in this event.” -> Crowley ask Riddle to make preparation in case of troubles -> Azul offered to help since he learned all about it from magic shift event -> Leona “hey octopus bastard… do you want your flappy tongue to turn into dried food or what?” -> Azul “oh my how scary” -> Riddle refused Azul’s help since he don’t want Azul ask for something later -> Kalim “just tell us if something is bothering you, we’ll help you anytime.”
-> Kalim “I can’t wait for the day of festival~!” ->  Idia “sign~~~… the popular guys just looks so happy everyday. I had to think about the day to announce our research result… if I just step on stage, everyone would be like ‘hey isn’t his hair burning?’ ‘could he be Shroud family’s…’ ‘what kind of dark research is he doing?’ aah I can’t… for person like me to do a speech on stage is just challenge level EX.” -> Riddle mentioned how the rules said student have to go on stage themselves and offer to train Idia for speech after school -> Idia said he’ll manage something himself (whispering) “I really don’t wanna have a farming event with demonic trainer Riddle.” -> end of meeting
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In Vil’s room -> Vil “Mira, Mira” -> Mira “what can I help you with?” -> Vil “who is the fairest of them all right now?” -> Mira “the account with the most mention of fair in web currently is… Neige.” -> Vil “Neige…! Finally… this time have arrived.” -> Mira “sorry, I couldn’t quite hear you. Could you please repeat what you said?”
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Few days later in cafeteria -> Ace, Deuce, Grim, and you saw the poster for the VDC audition -> the reward for wining the championship is 5 million Madollar to spilt among the members -> Crowley popped up and explained many corporation sponsored this event -> Grim wanted to join for the money so he can buy tuna cans
The song for audition is “piece of my world” -> Ace wanted to try so if he got accepted he don’t need to help set up the places anymore -> Deuce wanted the reward money to help his family -> but he never did singing or dancing before so he didn’t want to join ->
In courtyard you heard someone singing beautifully -> you saw Epel ->Deuce remembered the time he bumped into Epel last chapter -> He asked Epel why is he practice singing here -> it was because Vil told Epel to practice singing to the well so Epel can hear his voice clearly -> Deuce “does Pomefiore have some rules where you have to be good at singing?” -> it was because Epel has to take the audition for VDC and practice for a more lovely voice -> Epel (whisper) “event like that should just disappear…” -> “oh my Epel, are you skipping practice and talking with pigeons now?” -> it was Vil -> Grim “that guy’s leg looks like it’s 1 meter longer than MC’s!” -> Vil “there’s only 2 month left till VDC, Epel have no times play with muddy potatoes like you people.” -> “Epel, you too, if this keep going on you won’t be able to become the ‘red poisoned apple’ let’s go.” -> Epel “…But I actully don’t!” -> Vil “did you forgot the promise with me? Just come here already.” -> Ace and Grim was pretty mad and wanted to fight -> Vil “It’s not bad for a walk after meal. Come at me, I’ll make you into mashed potato.” -> fight time -> you are beat up by Vil -> and he only gives you 5/100 for the fight since you lacked the beauty when fighting -> Epel has to go back with Vil and Vil mentioned how it ends up like this because Epel skipped practice in break
The next day -> Deuce decided to try the audition -> so if they are accepted, Epel might got eliminated and don’t need to practice anymore -> Deuce “as a honor student, I can’t just watch him being forced into the things he don’t like.” -> Ace “I don’t think it’s very honor student of you to call yourself honor student.” -> dance practice time
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Kalim and Jamil showed up practice for audition too -> Kalim “honestly you guys are pretty bad at this, you look like a panicked elephant trying to stand on 2 legs! Ahhaha!” -> Deuce “man this really hurts when he’s not even try to be mean.” -> Ace asked Jamil to teach them how to dance -> Kalim “oh sure! Jamil is really good at singing.” -> Jamil “why are you replying for me! … well it is also review for me when I’m teaching someone, fine I’ll do it.” -> teaching time -> Kalim “hey, how about we practice together tomorrow too? Jamil is really good at singing, we’ll show you.” -> Jamil “! You just decided that yourself too…!” -> Kalim “it’ll be fine, besides isn’t it more fun when you have more people for dancing, singing, or partying?” -> Jamil “fine, just don’t expect me to be so kind.” -> Jamil “for now, let’s just clean up, take some mops from the storage room -> Deuce, Ace, Kalim “okay.” -> Jamil “Kalim, you don’t have to do it… sigh.”
Azul showed up -> Grim mentioned how Jamil’s evil plan was streamed worldwide last chapter.” -> Azul “why do you think the merciful me would end my classmate societal life like that?” -> Jamil “…you would.” -> that day Azul was just on phone with Jade -> Azul “different from Leona, I don’t have an interest to beat down someone more than necessary, besides it’s a secret that I’ve finally got, I won’t do anything to make the price fall like that.” -> Jamil “hate to say it, but thanks to Azul’s mercifulness, my parents and Asim family didn’t know the real reason I overblot. But the dorm students…”
Flashback -> Scarabia students questioned why Kalim don’t change the vice dorm leader after what happened
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-> Kalim “are you guys worried about me? Thank you! But… he was not the only one wrong this time, I’m also at fault. Besides, is there anyone in Scarabia that have not received help from Jamil?” -> student “that, that is true… if there’s something going wrong we would always just ask him…” -> Kalim “I know right? He is an excellent vice dorm leader. A lot better than me, the dorm leader. His judgements might be clouded back then, but he is still great at his work. He did try to expel me by manipulating you guys but… up till that incident, he has never hurt me even once before. He has many chances to do other much more horrible things to me, but he didn’t. Not once, in 17 years. I won’t call him a good guy but… it’s hard to explain but would you please give us more times?” -> students “…if that’s what you said so…” -> Jamil “…”  -> end of flashback -> Jamil “the chance I had for holiday was once in a lifetime, thought my life would be over if I failed, but in the end it didn’t change that much… surely something to be ‘grateful’ for. So unless I’m fired by Kalim, I’ll continue to serve him. And I’ll continue to show everyone how useful I am.” -> Grim “Jamil… your character really changed a lot after the holiday.” -> Azul “if you are fired by Kalim, Octavinelle will always welcome people like you with open arms.” -> Jamil “thank you for the offer, but no matter what happened I would never go to Octavinelle.” -> Kalim “Hey you guys~ if we don’t head out soon we are gonna be late for class!”
3 days later -> everyone is getting better at dancing and singing -> Jamil reminded them to sign up for audition with Rook in class 3-A -> Grim saw Leona and called out to him -> Leona: angry lion noises -> Grim asked where is Rook Hunt -> Leona “why are you trying to find that weird guy.” -> Rook suddenly popped up from behind -> Rook “hahaha, did I surprised you? Pardon. Conceal my footstep sound was a habit I had. I am Rook Hunt. The hunter of love that set his life theme as looking for beauty, helping beauty.” -> Leona “tsk, there it is, that weird guy.” -> Rook asked where is monsieur dandelion -> Leona “no way we are together 24/7, just take those herbivores and go.” -> Deuce questioned who is monsieur dandelion -> it was Ruggie -> the reason why Rook calls him that is because last spring, Rook saw Ruggie picking dandelion in the sports field. Ruggie plans to eat those since his budget is a little tight this month -> so Rook calls him monsieur dandelion out of respect -> Leona “that guy… is he really fine with eating everything that’s not rotten? He didn’t make me eat dandelions too, right…?” -> Rook “non non, it’s not poison, it’s not good to be picky like that lord lion.” -> Ace brought up the audition for VDC, we almost forgot about that because of what happened -> Rook “I apologize, so you guys are, human species Ace Trappola, height 172cm, from class 1-A with student number 25. Human species Deuce Spade, height 173cm, from the same class 1-A with student number 24. And human species MC with demon beast species Grim, height 70cm. right?”
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-> Deuce “how did you know our class and student number!?” -> Ace “and even height too!?” -> Rook “huhuhu. As a hunter, I have to at least know the species and heights about the students.” -> there’s no need to write anything to sign up, you only need to show up to the audition 3 days later in Pomefiore’s ballroom -> Rook ask why don’t Leona try for the auditions too -> Leona “who would go to a game event like that, besides, that annoying Vil is also there. I would never go.” -> Rook “the Vil with the beauty of metropolis, and Leona kun with the beauty of wilderness. If both of you dances and sings together it would definitely be beautiful. The competition between different types of beauty, it’s just tres bien!” -> Leona “this guy really doesn’t listen to other people at all…”
3 days later -> in Pomrfiore dorm lounge, you saw around 50 students who’s also trying for audition -> Cater was also one of it -> since he wanted to go to the event with the famous celebrity Vil -> Ace “isn’t that reason a little too light hearted?” -> Cater “really? I thought everyone is like that, I mean look.”
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-> pointed at Ruggie who’s clearly here for money -> Lilia popped up again -> you recognized him as the person who handed you the holiday card -> Grim “he wasn’t the sender?” -> Lilia “the initials are different from mine right?” -> Lilia is here since he’s in light music club and it just makes sense for him to try -> he tried to invite Malleus too but he said he don’t want it to become the exhibition of some kind so he refused -> Lilia “that guy is kind of shy” -> Cater “I feels like that’s a little bit different from shy…” -> Lilia asked why didn’t Cater brought Trey along -> Cater tried but Trey has to help Riddle with all the works
they saw Ortho by himself for audition too and was surprised -> Ace commented on how Ortho looks like an elementary school student -> Cater said Ortho is accepted into this school with Idia, and they always take classes together -> Grim “how much of a brothercon is Idia…” ->Ortho “don’t talk bad on my brother!” -> Ortho explained how everything was approved by the principals, and is not like Idia brought him just because he’s lonely by himself -> Cater “sorry sorry, we kinda got to excited while talking about it since the Shroud brother is like the 7 mysteries of this school.” -> Ortho “I want to apologize for getting too upset as well, I just don’t want you to misunderstand my brother…” -> Cater asked if Ortho is also here for audition -> flashback -> basically Idia made a software with his voice to read out everything he typed -> for the speech since he just can’t talk in front of everyone -> but Idia also got pretty interested in the sound editing world -> Idia “since virtual idol is getting popular, should I put vocal synthesizer in Ortho too?” -> Ortho “sounds fun! I wanted to sing too.” ->Idia “alright~ let big brother handle everything.” -> so to test how far the vocal synthesizer can go, Ortho is here to take the audition -> Ace was surprised that they can just make singing sounds from programs -> Cater said those got quite popular and he likes it too, and wanted to show Grim a video of it -> there was an ad
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Neige is promoting in the ad -> Cater mentioned how popular he is getting -> Vil, Rook, and Epel kicked in with sparkling effects -> Vil started introducing himself and explains how he will be the producer for the members appears in VDC
Auditions starts -> Ruggie sung and danced
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-> Rook “monsieur dandelion. Such a light step and bright smile. With manliness and loveliness combined perfectly. Beaute! 100 points!” -> Vil “his way of moving isn’t bad, but his dancing and singing is still messy… next!”
Cater -> Rook “monsieur magcam. Your voice sounds just like the elegant sparkling diamond! I wanted to listen to it forever. Beaute! 100 points!” -> Vil “singing and dancing wasn’t bad, but I can’t feel any passions… next!”
Lilia -> Rook “monsieur curiosity. Such a lovely form and singing voice with an alluring aura… Beaute! 100 points!” -> Vil “I don’t know why… but I can’t feel any freshness of a high school student from Lilia. Next!”
Ortho -> Rook “monsieur doll. What a brand-new style…! Your robot dance and singing voice, will be sculpted into my eyes. Beaute! 100 points!” -> Vil “no matter how genre-less this event is, there’s a limit… next!”
Kalim -> Rook “lord gold! Your dance were just like the breeze that blow through the hot sand! And the singing that make me felt like flying. Beaute! 100 points!” -> Vil “hmm, it’s a little bit better than the vegetables that’s just rolling around.”
Jamil -> Rook “monsieur mulch. As expected… I can feel your buring soul underneath your cool mask! Beaute! 100 points!” -> Vil “not bad, he’s the most normal one out of all of them.”
Epel -> Rook “monsieur crabapple. So lovely! Beaute! 100 points!” -> Vil “that kid, misstep again, no matter how good was his rehearse, it would be meaningless if he can’t do good in the real deal. Also, Rook. aren’t you giving out nothing but 100 points? Are you judging seriously?” -> Rook “of course, but it’s so hard to pick a first when everyone are so wonderful. There’s beauty in the neatness, and there’s also beauty in the twisted. Don’t you think so?” -> last group -> Ace, Deuce, and Grim -> Rook “…I see I see.” -> end of the audition -> result will come out tomorrow -> Rook recommend the trio to Vil
Next day, Ace, Deuce, Grim just got off from class -> suddenly an arrow flies across barely missed Deuce’s nose -> Ace realized there’s a piece of paper on the arrow -> Deuce “what!? Is it a challenge to fight!?” -> Ace “stop connect everything to a fight, let me see…” -> both Ace and Deuce are accepted -> you are also asked to go with those two
You all headed towards Pomefiore -> you saw both Kalim and Jamil -> they are accepted as well -> but after going in Pomefiore, students keep showing up asking for fight -> finally you arrived to the ballroom
-> Vil showed up with sparkling effects again -> apparently the students are fighting with you because you are accepted members, it was a warm up Vil prepared for all of you so he can start the lesson right away -> Vil “listen up, start from now on we would be the representation for NRC, and aim for the first place in the VDC. The members that can’t even win a fight like that is not needed. The battle has already started and all of you should be prepared to be whipped to shape!” -> Kalim “I don’t really understand but okay!” -> Grim asks why are him and you here when you are not accepted -> Crowley showed up and explained, in order to practice for the team work, all of the members will live together in Ramshakle dorm -> Grim wanted to refuse -> but Vil and Rook said they will give you all of their reward money since their goal in this event is not money -> which is around 1.42 million -> you decided to accept the deal after all ->Vil “now let’s start the lesson!” -> Ace “I thought the lesson starts when we starts living together?” -> Vil “don’t get a big head, new potato number 1. You are still an amateur at singing and dancing, we can’t waste a single minute.” -> practice time.
 End of this update.
Oh man it tooks me a whole entire day to do this… and to think this is just like part a of part1. The chapters are getting so much longer…
I Honestly felt like I missed up half of Rook’s nicknames since I don’t know French at all, basically got everything from google so please correct me if I’m wrong.
Also, Rook’s nickname for Epel is kinda weird, he call Epel hime ringo which directly translate to princess apple, but it is also a type of apple. In English it’s called crabapple, which kind of feels different then the Japanese text.
Can I just say I love the fact that we can fight Crewel now? And I just love how he call us zasshu while fighting, it probably referenced to like mixed blood dogs and all but it only reminds me of Gilgamesh lol.
Ahhh I really want Crewel to slap me.
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angsty-omi · 4 years ago
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pull the trigger.
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CEO!Akaashi x Agent!Reader
synopsis: You were assigned to kill one of the richest businessmen in Japan, Akaashi Keiji. How? by getting close to him. By pretending to be an innocent, naive little girl. By pretending you actually enjoy his company. By pretending that you actually loved him. The plan was simple enough, and if you were successful, you’d be rich enough to retire for yourself and your future grandchildren. So, what happens when you couldn’t pull the trigger? Even worse, why didn’t he flinch?
“Agent Y/N, you’ve been assigned.” your boss notified.
It’s been so long since you had been assigned. After you accidentally blew up the evidence last mission, your boss hasn’t been to keen depending on you. This was music to your ears, so what did you do? Jumped gleefully and instinctively squeezed your boss. You realized what you were doing and how unprofessional it was, so you slowly latched off of her. Your boss just coughed awkwardly before she began, “This assignment is a big one, meaning there must be no flaws to this plan. One mistake and you’re done for, literally.” ending with a slit-throat gesture. You were confident in your skills, and aside from that one mission, everyone depended on you. No wonder why your boss came to you for this. You glad-fully shook her hand, in which expressed your disparity for a new high.
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To start, you had to change your look a bit. See, you researched Akaashi Keiji, from his likes and dislikes to his convictions. Every conviction he got away with money. Dirty bastard. Every single job left you guilt-less because you knew these people were corrupt and somehow reasoned that your job was ethical. First, you started with a trim. Your split ends would’ve definitely caught the eyes of the girls from his front desk. Then, you used the budget money for this mission to buy luxury items. From Gucci, Louis Vuitton, Hermes, was this really for the mission or for yourself? No one really knows. Finally, and most importantly, you had to snatch a job as his personal assistant. The organization already falsified documents for you. After today, you go by ‘Akiyama Ami.’ As you walked out of your office, your coworkers couldn’t even recognize you. One even put a gun to your head, and having to state who you are.
You smirked, “Matsuda, I am deeply saddened if this is how you treat your advisor,” whispering in his ear. 
“Senior Y-Y/N?,” he stuttered, putting his gun away immediately. You grabbed his arm and forcefully pushing it to his back, “please make sure you never make that mistake again,” you stated. 
“Y/N, leave him alone already,” a voice joked.
You knew that voice. It was your long time partner, Atsumu. From when you both were rookies, you guys worked cases together quite often. Never more than that. 
“Atsumu, this is my first case without you... aren’t you going to miss me?” you pouted. 
“Don’t give me that look, idiot. Be safe out there okay? I can’t always save your ass like from that time you exploded our only evidence.” he shook his head in disappointment.
You punched his shoulder, and he ‘over-dramatically’ ached in pain. “I’ll be fine, Atsumu. Plus our person literally looks like a prissy privileged boy, doesn’t he?” you pulled up Akaashi’s Business Insider profile. For the next ten minutes, you guys were bullying the hell out of him. Until finally, you had to go. Your cab was already ready for you, so you hugged Atsumu goodbye. Platonically, you always thought you’d get married to him. He was handsome, strong, and witty. And he knew your job situation, so you never would have to feel judgement from him. 
From the cab ride, you got to fly in a private jet. There, was your boss, two intelligent analysis, and a linguist. This was your team, and who’d you tell your intel to. The whole flight consisted of breaking down the plan, even down to what time you have to walk in the elevator. The destination was in Tokyo, where Akaashi’s main headquarters lived. 
“I’ve made an appointment for your job interview,” One of them said.
“Here’s your resume,” The other said.
As you skimmed through, you spit your drink.
“I can speak more than five languages?!” your eyes widened.
“壊れた日本語で話せます” you quoted.
“What does that mean?” your boss asked looking at you surprisingly.
“It means I can only speak broken Japanese,” you nervously scratched your head.
“It wouldn’t matter, the job application is asking for english-speakers” the linguist stated.
As the plane started to screech, due to the wheels contact with concrete, you knew it was your time to shine. You practiced all your lines during the flight, so confidence soared through your body. On sight, there was a limo waiting for you. You waved goodbye to your team, and entered the lanky vehicle. 
The condominium the organization gave you was luxurious, their budget must’ve been high-grade. Broad birched doors, huge window panels that let in a lot of natural light, and a master bedroom. Your first move was to jump on the feather-light bed. Your feet sunk deep into the mattress every hop. Leaving you tired, you went straight to sleep. 
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Today was your job interview. Even though everything was fake, you couldn’t help but feel nervous. If you didn’t go down the agency path, is this what you would’ve felt as a normal person? While the coffee was brewing, you decided to look at your grand closet, not knowing what to wear. There was already an outfit set out for you. With it, there was a note:
Good luck! ;) -Atsumu
As you read it, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. The outfit he picked wasn’t even that bad. It was an emerald green two-piece, with a pale blouse underneath. 
“Not so bad,” you thought, while looking at yourself in the mirror. 
There, stood the building where the infamous person lived worked. Heels tapping the black marble, you stood in front of the front desk. The girls that worked there looked roughly young, around their early 20s. As they stared at you up and down, you could feel their judgement. 
“Welcome to Fukurodani Headquarters, how may we help you?” One girl asked.
“Hi, I’m Akiyama Ami, I’m actually applying for the personal assistant job. Where could I meet my interviewer?” You warmly asked.
The girls bursted into laughter. What was so funny? Did you miss out on the joke?
“Excuse us, its just... that’s one way to call Akaashi Keiji,” 
“Akaashi Keiji... is the interviewer? That’s even more stressful than a random person. It does make sense though, as a personal assistant there should be a close relationship,” you sighed.
“Close relationship? Please, you’ll be lucky if you can even give him coffee. Get in line.” The front desk scoffed in agreement with each other. 
“That’s enough,” a voice commanded.
“Are you Akiyama Aki? I’m ready for you.” 
Your face went pale. As you slowly turned around, there he was. The man himself, Akaashi Keiji. As an agent, you’ve went through strenuous training, so from the outside you looked relaxed as ever, but on the inside the butterflies in your stomach started awakening. He was a very attractive man after all.
“You must be Mr. Akaashi, let’s begin!” you enthusiastically smiled, while following him into his office. 
“So Akiyama, tell me about yourself?” Akaashi read off a list.
“Well I was born in the states, but my parents are foreign. They enforced me to take a lot of language classes, hence why I know quite a lot.” You were dying inside. It was a half-true statement though, you were from the states and your parents are foreign.
“It says you speak French, Aimez-vous boire l'eau des toilettes?” He smirked. 
You had no idea what he just said. The silence was deafening, so you just laughed it off. You’ve been told your laugh is very contagious, so you used that to your benefit. Your laughter increased, his did too. 
After you both calmed down, he continued with his next question, “Out of all of the candidates, why should I hire you?”
“Well I guess my stats match up with everyone else, but what’s not on the textbook is my characteristics. I am dependable, calm, and honestly easy to work with. I will do my best to help you any way I can, and keep your stress levels at ease.” You smiled with confidence. 
“Any way huh?” Akaashi whispered to himself. You acted like you didn’t hear his whisper. As an agent it was also one of your many talents to keep an ear out for anything. 
“Akiyama, congratulations! you’ve gotten the job.” Akaashi put his hand out.
“R-r-really? That was only two questions” you tilted your head to the side. You could feel his glare as a response.
“Well, thank you anyways! My parents will be pleased.” you gushed as you shook his calloused hands. Parents? Please, more like your boss. You swore you could hear a ‘cha-ching’ sound effect in your head.
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Over the next couple of months, you’ve been working under Akaashi. If he was staying up til’ 2 AM at the office, so were you. Continuously brewing coffee, while also printing papers, and keeping him company. 
However, one day the routine changed. Prior to this day, your boss had just kept you up for the next order, so you were extremely tired. During the 2 AM session, your eyes slowly started to drift off, feeling the wave of drowsiness pound into your head. Akaashi walked into your office and was going to ask you for copies, until he saw you sleeping head down on your desk. At first, he was going to viciously shake you awake, but seeing your dainty face in the moonlight he couldn’t bring himself to. This was the first time he saw you vulnerable. Typically, when he would ask if you were tired, you would just shake it off with a bright smile. However, he knew. He could tell that you were pushing for him. So, he draped over his blazer around you, in hopes to insulate some warmth and went back to his office. Minutes later, you jerked yourself awake. You felt a strange piece of clothing around you, so you pinched at it while analyzing. Does it look like a weapon? No. Does it have any toxins? No. Could this harm you in any way, shape, or form? It honestly just looked like a plain blazer you thought. As you checked the shoulder pocket, there was an ID. 
“Akaashi’s jacket huh?” you said to yourself, not even noticing the smile that crept up on your face. As soon as you caught yourself, you immediately slapped your face. Oh no. Quickly, you sent a picture of the ID, so that the agency can create a replica for future secret documents and shoved it back inside. 
Knocking at the entrance to his office, he looked up at you with bagged eyes. His sleepiness radiated off of him, so you did what you promised on the first day-- relieve his stress levels. You pulled down the shutters of his clear office so no one could look in. In addition, setting up the couch to where there was a pull up bed under it.
“Miss Akiyama, if you’re trying to seduce me you could’ve just said so,” He flirtatiously grinned. You rolled your eyes in response, and grabbed him to the bed.
“I like where this is going, Ami, I didn’t think you were so bold.”
“Just shut up and get some rest, I’ll appoint some things out so your projects aren’t due.”
As he opened his mouth, you anticipated that he was for sure going to deny. However, no words came out of his mouth, instead he grabbed your wrists and pulled you onto the bed with him. 
“I’ll accept, on the conditions that you, too get some rest.”
Too tired to argue, you complied. As you both fell asleep, with his arms wrapped around you.
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a/n: i was planning on making this a one shot but i feel like this might be a multiple part-er(?)
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thanksjro · 4 years ago
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More Than Meets the Eye #30 - The Cybertronian Judicial System is a Friggin’ Joke
Have I mentioned that I’m not a huge fan of court case stories? I think they’re pretty boring, on average, so the last couple of issues have been slightly dragging for me.
Anyway, back to Megatron’s trial. 

Our issue opens up with a full back shot of Ultra Magnus.
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Artists take note, he really is built like a capital T.
As Magnus reads out Megatron’s statement retracting his “guilty” plea, we get some decent points as to why. See, telling a guy that you’ll stab him in the brain, so his trial can be over as quickly as possible, maybe isn’t such a hot idea. Megatron wasn’t a huge fan of that, or of how those memories they would’ve yanked outta him would have been used to fuel the Autobot propaganda machine. Why, you may ask?
Well, I don’t know if you knew this or not, but Megatron… doesn’t particularly care for the Autobots, nor the rhetoric they uphold.
I know, I was surprised too!
There’s also the fact that Optimus Prime is the judge on this whole thing. You know. Optimus Prime. Off and on leader of the Autobots, whenever it suits him. The guy who fucked off into space for a year after the war. The guy who threw a hissy fit when someone pointed out that he was compromised the last time they did something like this with Megatron. This guy:
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Yeah, there might be a slight conflict of interests here. Remind me again why this had to be a military trial?
Anyway, enough of that, it’s time for a fight scene.
A swarm of Decepticons storm the arena, going after Megatron so they can help him escape. Magnus, though acting as Megatron’s defense, cannot abide by this disorder in the court.
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Wild to think there’s a tiny little Pringles man with anxiety in there, isn’t it?
Optimus joins the fray, because there really are, just, so many guys to deal with here. A dude goes to collect Megatron, stating that they brought teleport packs for this little shindig. Megatron isn’t super jazzed about that though, not bothering to grab on before the dude gets shot to death. There’s a brief recess, I guess so the janitorial staff can deal with the mess of corpses littering the courtroom.
Meanwhile, in the present day, Rung’s building a model spaceship in Swerve’s, which is a very brave thing to be doing, seeing how sticky and gross bars can be. Brainstorm’s brought a flask to the bar, and proceeds to pour the contents into a funnel sticking out of his arm.
Our bartender for the evening- I’m assuming it’s evening, but I doubt the concept of time has any real weight in space- is Bluestreak. Bluestreak was stationed on Earth for a while, which is some Phase One stuff, and took a liking to human media while he was there. He’s the guy who handles movie night these days, seeing as Rewind’s too busy being dead to do it, and I doubt Chromedome has the emotional bandwidth to take over for his late spouse.
Bluestreak’s favorite movie is Zulu, a film glorifying the colonialism of the English over the native populace of an African kingdom. Make of that what you will.
Whirl wants to watch À Bout de Soufflé, or Breathless, as it was translated for the English-speaking world, which is a French New Wave film about a criminal who shoots a cop, hides from the police in a journalist’s home, who he seduces and likely impregnates. She eventually finds out what he did, reports him to the police, but then has a change of heart and lets him know what she’s done. He runs, but is shot, and dies in the street. The film is notable for its final scene, in which the following dialogue happens, between the dying criminal Michael, his lover Patricia, and an officer.
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Of course, any poignancy would almost certainly be lost on the average comic book reader, and is also somewhat nullified by Whirl praising the film with internet lingo.
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Then again, I suppose Whirl would be the type to dismantle any deeper reading of his interest in such a film, lest he be subjected to the horrifying ordeal of being known.
Over with Skids and Riptide, it’s revealed that Megatron’s been teaching classes on the Lost Light, specifically on the Knights of Cybertron. Riptide’s getting an education, because he’s been feeling pretty lost since the war ended- we’ll get to the potential whys of that later on. Swerve isn’t a fan of this community college thing that’s going on, stating that Megatron’s using it as a distraction, so he can devise plots most foul.
Back in the past, Autobot high command is having a talk about what Megatron’s demanding, and man is it a doozy— turns out, since the trial’s happening on Luna 2, the trial proceedings are subject to the laws of the moon. One of these moon laws is the right to request being judged by the Knights of Cybertron. Now, this is a problem, seeing as the Knights of Cybertron have been AWOL for the last several million years, but the law is the law, and you can’t just go ignoring it when someone’s pointed it out.
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Bro, your SIC just suggested y’all pull the trial so you could slap it on Cybertron, thus negating any need to pay attention to the Knight law. That’s such a gross miscarrying of justice, it’s genuinely baffling. You’ve got bigger issues going on than flouting. My god, Optimus, you were a cop—
Oh wait, that’s right. Carry on, then.
Back on the Lost Light, First Aid’s checking to make sure that the coffin Rodimus they revealed last issue is true and proper dead. Now, this may seem like a given, but you’ve got to remember that Brainstorm was mostly dead for over a year and a half, and nobody fucking noticed, so it’s probably for the best that they’re checking.
First Aid’s been pretty withdrawn since Ambulon died, so this autopsy is really good for him, since it got him out of his room. Pretty fucked up that it would take a dead body to get him out and about. Has Rung checked in on his poor son of a gun, or has he been spending the last six months getting his professional rocks off psychoanalyzing a genocidal warlord?
Our coffin Rodimus died from having parts of his brain removed, and potentially died screaming.
Yes, that is a Furmanism, thank you peanut gallery, moving on—
Ratchet hands the phone over to Ultra Magnus, saying that a call has to be made, and it can’t be by him, because the callee is mighty upset with Ratchet at the moment.
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Oh, I guess he’s fine after all. This must be where the sci-fi bullshit really starts kicking in for the series.
Because seeing your own dead body is likely very traumatic and awful, Rodimus is taking a while to string together his thoughts on the matter. Megatron doesn’t particularly care, because he’s not terribly sympathetic to this sort of thing, and the two get into a spat, where it’s revealed that they’re co-captaining the Lost Light.
Because things weren’t chaotic enough on this fucking ship. Need to mix in some peacocking between the McDonalds twunk and the man who killed half of Beijing.
Back in the past, Optimus Prime visited Megatron in prison to have a little chat. It’s not about that little rescue attempt, though the fact that those Decepticons may have been released from the Lost Light’s brig is certainly interesting. No, Optimus is here to sit way too close to his mortal nemesis on the floor of his room and talk about how Megatron is a sneaky bastard.
You remember the Hellraiser puzzle box from a couple issues back? Yeah, that was a communicube, one that was passed to Optimus to suggest that the trial be held on the moon, so the arena there would be able to hold all the people wronged by Megatron. This seems pretty damn convenient in hindsight, but Megatron swears that the legal loophole wasn’t his only intent when he sent the cube.
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Because it’s all about you, isn’t it, Megatron? It’s all about how you’re perceived by future generations. Fuck the guys who had to actually deal with what your personal choices caused to happen.
Megatron wants to make amends with all those who were wronged by him. This doesn’t include being acquitted of his crimes, which, y’know, good- at least he’s being slightly realistic about how this is going to turn out for him.
What he wants to do is find Cyberutopia, so the Cybertronians have a replacement planet, since Cybertron kind of sucks now.
Oh, sorry, did I say realistic? I take it back.
In the present, Rodimus is still bummed out about being dead. Still, the day doesn’t stop just because it’s a bad one, and he calls in the experts.
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CHROMEDOME YOU PROMISED TO STOP THIS SHIT
Yeah, no, Chromedome’s fallen off the wagon again, and does his thing on the coffin Rodimus. As he does, Megatron suddenly gets squeamish, Brainstorm pulls out his early early-warning device to lean on the fourth wall, and it’s revealed that the coffin that coffin Rodimus was in was built in the fashion of the Spectralist faith.
All Chromedome can suss out of coffin Rodimus’ memories is the really big important stuff, which includes the speech at Rivet’s Field inviting folks to come join the Knight Quest. Aww, that’s sweet.
With the analysis of the innermost energon complete, the results are in— the coffin Rodimus is a Rodimus. A real one, from the near future. Bummer.
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I suppose denial is one of the seven stages of grief, isn’t it?
As everyone argues over whether or not Rodimus is going to die, Nightbeat brings up a good point— there aren’t any numbers carved into the coffin Rodimus’ hand. Rodimus is about to reveal some Ratchet-original wisdom, when things start getting really weird; whole sections of the Lost Light are disappearing.
Over at Swerve’s, Tailgate is regaling his peers with the story of his derring-do against Chief Justice Tyrest. Everyone is very impressed, and this includes our good buddy Getaway.
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Jeez, think you’ve got enough antagonist shadows on this guy? It’s almost as if the art’s trying to tell us something about him.
Getaway lays it on real thick, saying that Tailgate could totally be the next Prime, with how courageous and awesome he is, all while completely ignoring Tailgate’s personal space and having a weirdly tiny hand. This seems to seriously bother Cyclonus, who is watching this shit go down from the doorway. Our purple space jet leaves once the drinks start being poured and conversation starts happening. God knows he hates talking about his insecurities.
Then the Pipes is Friggin’ Dead alarm goes off. But Pipes has been dead for a while now, so that must mean something else awful is happening.
Back during the trial, I guess because Optimus has a soft spot for Megatron, he allows him to join the Lost Light’s Knight Quest… even as he says that he could keep the guy locked up until Rodimus and pals find the Knights. However, there are rules to this, and one of the rules is that Megatron must publicly denounce the Decepticon cause.
It is a slow and painful experience for everyone involved, as he reads the statement he was given. It’s an immediate call to action- or rather, inaction.
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Geez, think they could’ve made it any more obvious that this was being ghostwritten? I can’t wait to see how long it takes for “Megatron was blackmailed into saying this by the Autobots” to be a plotpoint.
Outside the prison, Ratchet and Rodimus are taking in the brand new Rod Pod, which is genuinely ridiculous in how large it is. Rodimus admits to having taken Atomizer’s list, though he knows that trying to use it to keep those who voted him off would be a pretty shitty thing to do.
Also, no one’s told him about Megatron coming along on the trip. As captain.
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Or you could, I dunno, lock him up from the start. Or, if you want to give him a chance to prove himself, slap him into a bottom-rung role, like bilge cleaner, or sewage mucker, or whatever the equivalent would be on a spaceship full of giant gay robots. We don’t have to give the guy any power to hold him to scrutiny— any minimum wage worker will tell you that scrutiny comes far harsher for those who actually carry out orders than those who give them.
But what do I know? I’ve never fought in a several million year war, and I don’t plan to.
Getting back to the list, it seems as if Ratchet and Rodimus are on the same wavelength, in that both agree it’s only going to cause trouble and hurt feelings to keep the thing around. Rodimus destroys it with his usual flare, only to be blindsided by the fact that it was fake this entire time. How does Ratchet know this?
Because his name wasn’t on it.
...Man, that’s gotta sting. No wonder Rodimus was upset enough to not take his calls.
In the present, everyone’s in a panic, as they all bolt for the shuttle bay and start pouring into shuttles. The Lost Light is disintegrating around them, which is sort of a problem. Despite this nightmare scenario happening, Rodimus and Megatron still find the time to be assholes to each other. That’s dedication right there.
As the two bicker, multiple shuttles zip away from the rapidly disappearing ship, including the Rod Pod.
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Man, now it really is the Lost Light.
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mickylikesstuff · 3 years ago
Text
Status Online: Chapter 4: Blood Sky
Previous
Next
Masterlist
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FLOOR1
AINCRAD
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The Last bell rang throughout the floor and clouds are pushed by the strong wind at dusk.
Gamers in Sword Art Online are all gathered in the plaza in the <<Town of Beginnings>>. Confusion and panic fill the hearts of the gamers within the area as they cannot exit the Plaza. Akuma no Midori just finished taking down a hidden starter’s quest that was the << Herald of the Wolves>>, much of his surprise he was unexpectedly teleported to the <<Town Plaza>>. At first, He was expecting an intervention for taking down a hidden quest early, but why is the whole gaming population of SAO here? Akuma Damian somehow unconsciously holds his weapon under the black cloak he acquired
Red Valkyrie on the other hand has a sense of uncomfortable nostalgia. Max’s Akuma was like this. Yet she did not sense magic or a strong malice intent, Hawkmoth received his punishment that ended the terror of Paris 3 years ago. Valkyrie snaps out of her thoughts and begins to look for Pico and Lavender. Her head clear and breathe steadied, Ladybug Valkyrie begins to look for the siblings among the thick crowd, clutching the sword at hand.
Suddenly their world turns blood red. The once orange sky filled with red hexagons that have the stamped {WARNING} sigils in them. These shapes surrounded the plaza like a dome and then merge into a singularity, but what terrifies the gamers most is the gigantic looming thing that is above all of them. From the Red sigils came a red creature that somehow got into the dome and transformed into a singularity. From the blood slimy creature turned into a grim reaper. The titanic humanoid figure that is robed in red, and face unseen hovered the thousands of people
A booming deep voice sounded the place.
< Attention, Players. Welcome to my world. >
Red Valkyrie turned pale as she had an idea of what is happening. She can’t move in fear and shock, she can only be frozen stiff of what the looming figure says next.
< My name is Kayaba Akihiko. >
< As this moment, I am the only person who can control this world. >
Akuma gazes up to the creator of this world, Damian did not meet Kayaba Akihiko before. Yet his greeting seems something off…
Gamers are whispering to each other as the man Kayaba sends his greetings.
< I’m sure you’ve already noticed that the log out button is missing from your main menu screen >
< I assure you, It is not a defect >
“~We’re trapped here, no it can’t be…~” Akuma quickly turned to the woman who spoke French. That voice… she … wait her words hit him as he remembered Dick’s warning earlier. He watches the tears fell from the other gamer beside him as her face froze in fear. But if what she concludes is true then… This is bad.
Anxiety attack, she is having an attack. What kind of trauma can this event trigger her? ‘I have to calm her down before she does something stupid’
< I repeat. There is no bug >
< This is the feature of Sword Art Online >
“~Please no. Not again~” Akuma can’t stop himself from holding the weaponed arm of the gamer beside him in a steady firm grip. “Miss, you need to calm down and wake up. Please”. He goes to block her sight of Kayaba and starts rubbing her arms, hoping that will snap her out of it.
< You cannot log out of SAO yourselves >
“Miss… Red Valkyrie Wake up!”
Marinette untangled herself from her headspace and looked at the man in front of her. It is his green cool eyes that made her realize a hooded man is holding her steady. Mar Red Valkyrie lets go of the sword she is holding and collapses to the man. Her legs bucked down like they lost their strength and she tried to calm down by taking steady breaths.
< And no one on the outside can shut down your nerve gear >
< Should this be attempted, the transmitter inside the nerve gear will act as a powerful microwave, >
< Destroying the brain, ending your life >
.
“HAHA, dude you know April fools is over right”
“What a terrible prank”
“Fix the bug already!”
.
The people are in denial trying to counter that that is a prank and waving off Kayaba’s words. Some try to leave the plaza, but its exits are blocked. Klein tried to deny such a claim, but Kirito only confirmed that the existence of the Internal Battery of the Nerve gear can fry them to their death.
< Unfortunately, several players’ friends and families have already ignored this warning  >
< And attempted to remove the Nerve Gear. >
< As a result, a whole 213 players are forever gone >
< From Aincrad and the Real World >
.
News reports floated around the plaza for everyone to see:
.
<[Beaking News: Killer game]>
<[Where is Kayaba Akihiko]>
<[Game to Death Battles!]>
<[2 Players killed by Death game]>
<[200/10,000 Death and Rising from Sword art Online]>
.
“Tch. Bastard!” The Green-eyed man holding Red Valkyrie exclaimed as he seems to sink in into the situation. Eyes filled with condemnation and his body is shaking in rage, He holds Valkyrie tight. When she looked at Kayaba, news reports that are published about the deaths because of the nerve gear. 'Father, please be safe...'
“Calm Down” She tried to help him. She looked at his ID. ‘Ironic, an Akuma is trying to help me this time’ “Midori no Akuma-san, CALM DOWN.” She commanded him. That in turn made Dami Akuma looked at her, and closed his eyes to compose himself.
.
< As you can see, News organizations from across the world are picking up on this, and are reporting the death totals >
< Thus, It’s safe to assume that the danger of your nerve gear being removed is quite small >
< I do hope you’ll relax and attempt to finish the game. >
.
When Akuma calmed down, He let go of Valkyrie. Steps away from her a little once he is sure that she is all right. He was ashamed that in turn, he needed her back then. The woman then slowly grabs his hand and interwinds their fingers. She looks at him straight in the eye, no longer held with fear but a gaze of a warrior replaced with experience as she analyzes the reports floating around the plaza. He wishes that he was surprised at her actions but he must have been tired to take his hand back. All he can do is to follow her gaze.
.
< Its important that you remember this clearly >
< There is no longer a method to revive someone within the game. >
< If your HP drops to zero, your avatar will be lost forever. And spontaneously, >
< The Nerve Gear will destroy your brain. >
.
“It’s a Death game now” “A bastardized survival of the fittest” Akuma and Valkyrie spoke together. They knew as hero/vigilante that their line of work is by far a death sentence, but in these elements, they cannot control anything. Damian has no contact with his family and team. Marinette took off her miraculous. With their chances that Cass and Kagami can call their families and friend to help them out.
“Even pro gamers die in the games. The chances of everyone’s survival are slim to none” Valkyrie said the situation is now heavier. “This is our life now? Are we just dolls for this monster!?” Akuma now wants this man to suffer after what he pulled.
.
< There is only one means of escape. >
< COMPLETE THE GAME >
.
The whole plaza fell silent and listens to Kayaba’s words. ‘Complete what now?!’
.
< You are now presently on the lowest floor of Aincrad, Floor 1 >
< If you make your way through each dungeon and defeat its floor boss, you can advance to the next level. >
< Beat the final Boss on the 100th floor, and you will have cleared the last hurdle. >
.
“Clear a hundred Floors? That’s impossible. The Beta-testers never made it anywhere close to that!” a Red head man spoke among the crowd. Akuma now notices Kirito behind them. He pushes to the crowd, approaching the other Beta-tester. When He reaches to his student, “Kirirto!” Akuma called. Kirito in turn in relief to hear her mentor’s voice.
“Sen- eh…Akuma-san” Kirito and the Red-head now see two gamers approaching them. Did Akuma-san bring a friend? The woman seems to be confused. “Are you alright?” Kirito asked.
“No” Akuma answers. Yup this is sensei.
Red Valkyrie is drag by the man among the crowd to what it seems like his friends. “Will you please, Let my arm go” She spoke up. Akuma blinked at the woman then he noticed his hand holding hers and deliberately lets her go. “Where are the others?” Akuma questioned Kirito. “I haven’t seen them from the start” Kirito answered is in a grim expression.
.
< Finally, I’ve added a present to your item storage, from me. Please see for yourselves. >
.
All the Gamers are now opening their [Inbox storage] and what they saw is a... "A mirror?” Kirito questioned. Voicing the thoughts of all the players. Akuma is skeptical, he handles the mirror and looks that the woman. She is just as curious as he is.
Then suddenly the redhead glowed blue and shines in a blinding light.
“KLEIN!”
“GET BACK! KIRITO!”
Akuma instinctively grabs Valkyrie and Kirito and uses his cloak to protect the three of them, despite their protest. But it turns out that all of them are glowing and somehow changing? All of them closed their eyes until the light is gone.
“What’s happening!”
“Your Glowing, I’m GLOWING!”
“WAAAHHHH!!!”
All the gamers glowed until the light died out. Revealing people in different avatars or more likely their real appearances.
“Are you alright, Kirito?” Klien approached the Big man that took Kirito and that lovely lady. Under the man-Midori no Akuma’s cloak is Kirito and Red Valkyrie well… based on their IDs who are both adjusting their eyes. They looked at Klein but is not really Klein. His previously long red hair is now short and he has a goatee.
“Y-Yeah…Who are you?” Kirito is sure that he heard Klein’s voice but who is this? And why is his voice turned higher? Didn’t he change the settings?
“And who are you?” the not Klein asked too. Kirito then looks at the Mirror. His face… His IRL Face, not the custom avatar is showing. He became smaller and lanky, his hair is shorter and his eyes are wider than the olive-shaped eyes he had.
“And you guys are?” Kirito looked where Klein is looking at. “That’s Akuma’s ID…” Kirito now sees the changes. Well, subtle changes. Akuma-san is exotic, to say the least… Now lean muscled, and big about 6ft. His green eyes became more vibrant, is it even possible to have sharper eyes? His skin is dark and his hair chopped short. He does not have his scar on his face anymore.
His Friend, on the other hand, has changed a lot, Klein has to gaze at her ID twice “Red Valkyrie-san?” as he checked on her. She lost her pink hair and now she has long black hair that flows to her back. She looks Eurasian, Big blue eyes, slender yet muscled too, she lost a couple of inches.
The two adults looked at their mirrors, they are now at their changed avatars. The gamers are now scared and confused about what happened. Surprise and resignation wash her as Valkyrie takes a deep breath. Akuma doesn’t really care about his appearance. But under his clothes, he is worried about another thing. ‘Can they scan my scar?’
“Which means…”
“You’re Kirito?”  "You’re Klein?”
Both the boys now realize what happened. “But, How?” Yet Klein is now really confused.
“That scan… The NerveGear covers your entire head with a high-density signal device, So it can see what you look like.” Kirito started to explain. “But our body shape…”
Klein continues “When we first used the NerveGear, we have to calibrate it, right? You have to touch your whole body all over."
“O-oh right, that must be where it got the data.”
“But... But… Why? What the hell’s the point of all this?” Klein tries to concentrate and come up with an answer but with all the changes and revelations, he wants to keep up.
“I’m sure he’ll tell us.” Kirito points the grim
Akuma and Valkyrie gaze at Kayaba in such hatred. ‘I won’t back down to a Hawkmoth wanna be!’ ‘I’ll get you for this!’
.
< Right now, you’re probably wondering why I’ve done this. >
< “Why would Kayaba Akihiko, developer of Sword Art Online go such lengths?” >
< My goal has already been achieved.>
< I created Sword Art Online for one reason...To create a world and play with it.>
.
“Kayaba” Kirito grounded himself. In his anger, he gripped his fist tight.
.
< And Now, it is complete. >
< This is ends the tutorial for the official Sword Art Online launch >
< I wish you all the best of luck. >
.
And at the end of the message, Kayaba disappeared in red smoke through the gaps of the sigils above. After that, the sigils disappeared. The dusk shines on the plaza once more.
Time stands still to the frozen crowd. Their mind is racing in thoughts of their family, friends, love-ones, their priorities, and their jobs. All players are equal on this floor that starts at 250HP, If they have carelessly done stupid and make the wrong decisions they will… DIE!
.
.
.
This isn’t a game anymore...
This is real, this is reality…
A simple strike will kill me.
A poison will end me.
When I Die Here, I Die for real!
.
.
.
After they realize what they have done... Panic and chaos ensued
They started wailing, cursing, begging they have done it all.
And nothing changes.
.
“AAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!”
“LET ME OUT!!”
“I HAVE A FAMILY! Let me go!”
“I have a meeting after this!’
“NO NO NO NO NO !!!!”
.
In the crowd, Akuma, Valkyrie, Klein, and Kirito acted fast. When the barrier is broken down, The beta-testers took their partners and ran towards the exit. Away from the mob and panicking people.
“Come with us, Now!” Akuma places his hand on Valkyrie’s shoulder and gestures to follow him. There is something about the Red Valkyrie that made him pay attention to her. At least let him try little to guide her.
“Alright.” Valkyrie follows him as the four of them sprinted out the Plaza. She might be in trouble taking a stranger’s hand. Yet it felt right and somehow made her safe and sweeps her off beyond the disorder.
-------------------------------
Running out of the marketplace and she cannot help herself to leap from stall to stall, use railings and streetlights to launch herself, and uses the roofs to gain more ground. Jumping, rolling, sliding, grappling and other actions help her think. When she concentrates on her actions her thoughts follow that makes no room to be distracted by fear and distress. Parkour, is somehow an effective therapy that made Marinette Dupain-Cheng less a target from Hawkmoth’s influence.
‘That was interesting. So, Kayaba did successfully make a VR world into reality. After he created the Cardinal System, he used the beta-testers to report for configurations, glitches, and repairs in the system. Does the if the system…’ She thought as leaped to another roof. ‘The system must also be self-updating, thus the progress of each gamers’ account is not easily erased’. ‘If survival is what we need then we have to be stronger, Wait ... we?’. Red Valkyrie pauses on a street where the man- Akuma also stopped in front of her.
In this quiet intersection, she is alone with a man, ' a handsome man... Bad Marinette! SNAP OUT OF IT '  She's not sure if she can blush in the game but she would be completely flustered at the closeness of this giant that is looking down on her.
Akuma is looking at her with indifferent eyes, yet his voice dripped in curiosity. “That was an interesting run. ~ Mademoiselle  ~” The man said. His brow was raised as he fully looked at her once again.
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the-darklings · 4 years ago
Note
who is jean?
(drags out a rusty chair) (sits)
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buckle up, gang. we're about to do French Bastard Baguette 101
basics first.
name: Jean Laurent
where does he hail from: French baguette 
what does he look like:
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whose house should you egg when Jean inevitably hurts your feelings: @la-gattara-art
what’s he like?  
(let me preface everything by saying that Jean’s personality, looks, and past were not created by me; he was originally constructed by Chan (NPFH co-creator and my very segssy friend tagged above) and I simply went free real estate ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)
okay, so:
bastard™. most call him “the spider” - both as a warning and as a curse. will sell you to satan for one cornchip. will also destroy you and your life if you get in his way : ) ruthless. manipulative. terrifyingly good at people and can charm pretty much anyone. has dirt on everyone and is brilliant at sniffing out weaknesses. is he lying? is he being honest? who knows? certainly not me. smoker. the living embodiment of the phrase “who we are and who we need to be to survive are two very different things”. has a heart deep, deep, deep down but good luck finding it. seductive. to be frank, the man fucks - that’s it, no fancy words. he knows what’s good and how to get it so his bed is warm most nights, no emotional connections though. likes sketching into his pocketbook : ) mostly birds/still life/architecture. speaking of which, admires architecture openly, and has a taste for art/historical things as well. mind sharper than a knife, tongue even more so 🤪 uses his accent on purpose as well. has a massive sweet tooth. is haunted by past actions. knows the price for “rebirth”. still has night terrors occasionally. ambitious for days. has an expensive taste because he knows the value of such things. enjoys old french songs. is an excellent dancer and is very happy to show just how good 😌 if he so much as sniffs out that someone is getting too comfortable beside him or is developing some sort of attachment to him, removes said attachment with surgical precision and weaponises everything he knows. can be downright vicious in that regard. prefers using words and seductions as oppose to fistfights but can hold his own if needs be. prefers guns - nice and quick. you will not know where his loyalties are until the last second. has a giddy, near boyish appreciation for sports cars but lacks technical knowledge when it comes to them, so don’t expect him to be changing oil any time soon. don’t bother trying to embarrass him, either - you can’t. he has no shame, especially if it comes to the bedroom. has a wicked sense of humour and enjoys few things more than a verbal challenge. enjoys challenges in general. if it's dangerous, he wants to poke it and see just how dangerous. he also works for someone else. will lay it all on the line for someone else but only once.  
so what’s his role and why is he important? 
jean is one of the main, catalyst characters in npfh (no place for heroes) an original universe where we hope to create an interactive modern-day, criminal world in "novel" form. where you, as a reader, play a key role and your decisions affect the story. the first prequel (like jeara's backstory) will be in normal novel format. formation of the pit of vipers aka where elites, lucien, amongst other new OCs will appear will follow that. so the running order is: fwns, tpov, npfh.
after COA gets concluded, I will be full-time working on this world. lowkey already am but that's because creativity is flowing and who am I to say no? so jean meets clara beginning of fwns (fire with no smoke - first prequel title) and for those of you who don't know clara is oc!v from my JW series Children of Ares. you will not have needed to read that story to enjoy this work because everything about JW is being removed and clara's backstory is going to be introduced anew and might be familiar to those of you who have read Gasoline Girl because it was wholly original. camorra is also staying. short version: something has happened to clara a year ago; a terrible, awful sort of trauma that has left her near crippled with the inability to deal with it (some may know what I'm referring to and it's that but x 10 worse :D). however in a world as cutthroat as npfh no falters are allowed. so teetering-at-the-edge-of-oblivion assassin meets master information gatherer because he hires her for a few "removal jobs" ("oh, you're a poisoner? sneaky, sexy, I love it.") because he's feeling out new york city for his boss and gathering information on X & Y. one thing leads to another, and those two end up needing to work together when they accidentally uncover a plan to paint streets of NY red and overthrow the old order. big time ("guess I have no choice but to trust and rely on you now because we're both being hunted,,, damn fine, just don't fall in love with me." 🙄 )
essentially to sum this story up I will say:
slowburn. reluctant partners in crime. banter. angst central. mystery. high stakes. dark. power couple when they're not trying to verbally end one another. sexual tension so thick most knives will not cut it. bi main character. mutual emotional baggage aha <3 it's mature (and yes that means there will be smut but it's been 84 years by the time we get there). at its core though, it's very much a story about healing & remembering what it is to be alive & not just existing in a role that's expected of you, nor does your past define you.
basically:
reasons to like Jean: Clara
reasons to dislike Jean: Clara
but,,, Jeara? 
yes ♥️
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(I don’t know how to make gifs so enjoy potato quality <3)
here's fwns board for more vibes/jean aes too (x)
and here's my horniest playlist for them (x)
and finally, jean in memes, courtesy of coa discord:
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and my personal fave
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thus concludes french bastard baguette 101. have a good day and eat baguettes xoxo
32 notes · View notes
extremelyblackandwhite · 4 years ago
Text
handmaid - 29
PAIRING: mob!sebastian stan x ingenue!reader
WARNINGS: age gap
A/N: when you quote west side story you do know things are not about to get any better *nervous laughter* hope you enjoy this chapter x
NEXT CHAPTER
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The environment was calm with baby blue and white walls. The only sounds existing in the room being that of the machines beeping and the small breathing sounds coming from the two people in the bedroom. It was quiet, very quiet, but the quietness only contributed to the peaceful nature of the hospital bedroom. 
The slight beeping of the door being opened caused the attention of the French woman to leave from her newborn daughter to the man who had just came in holding a bouquet of white lilies. 
     - I didn’t know what type of flowers would be suitable for someone who just gave birth. - he smiled, taking a seat on the cushioned chair by her bed. - How are my girls?
    - I am alright. Ella’s just been sleeping, I think that’s all she does. - the baby sleep peacefully against her chest, lightly suckling on her mother’s pinkie finger without a single care in the world. - Do you know when we can go home? It’s becoming a bit tiring to be in here. 
   - Robin. - the man sighed. - It’s safer for you to be here than to be home. We cannot return home until we’re certain that no harm can come to you or to Ella. 
   - But we got extra security besides ... I sense something bad is coming.
   - That is just your “momma bear” coming out. You’re safe here, there’s staff and security everywhere. 
   - I hope you’re right. - she sighed, looking at the baby. - I really hope you’re right. 
Y/N stared at him with the sort of curiosity one does whenever confronted with a hard choice. She could just end it, she could just put a stop to it and spare Gwen the pain and shame of being cheated on before she even got married, spare Sebastian and her the childish illusions that everything would be okay. She could just end it, she could just run away and start somewhere new but something always stopped it. Turns out, she couldn’t just end it, she couldn’t just stop falling more and more in love with him, she couldn’t just pretend she could just leave and things would be alright. So once again, she’d rather pretend that everything is alright, everything’s fine. 
She took a step towards him, her shoe front hitting his ever so slightly before she wrapped her arms around him, hiding her head in the space between his shoulder and neck, inhaling his cologne. Sebastian relished and relaxed in her embrace, kissing the crown of her head in means to comfort her.
     - Stay. - he mumbled through her hair, holding her tightly in his arms as if she would fade into air if his grip loosened. Y/N on the other hand was again trying to convince herself that there was a place for them, somewhere in time a place where there could be together without any other external factors. Nevertheless, that place filled with quiet and open air seemed to be nowhere near as breaking through those thoughts were the distant sounding laughter and chatting of people inside the dinning hall celebrating his engagement. Her gaze moved from the room to his face, to his beautiful eyes who stared into her with a look of pure naive hope. - Angel, I ...
    - Mr. Stan? - the two of them left the embrace as someone got closer to the balcony, calling out for him. Her gaze left his to stare at her shoes, shifting her weight from side to side as one of his lesser associates came into the balcony, giving the handmaid a dirty look. - There are some people inside trying to congratulate you. 
   - I’ll be right with you, I just need t ...
   - No, it’s alright. Go. - Y/N interrupted him, giving him a simple characteristic smile. She didn’t want to be the reason why he got himself in trouble and she also didn’t want to make it seem like they were intimate to the rest of the world. Sebastian, however, took a double take, wondering if he should stay and finish his sentence but the associate keeping on calling made him leave her there in the balcony.
The handmaid just sighed, leaning against the railing of the balcony, head heavy with various concerns that probably should’ve weight on her decision back when she decided to get together with him. Before she could decide what else to do, Mr. Dubois had joined her in the balcony, offering her one of the champagne flutes that seemed to float around the party. Despite not being in the mood to drink, she decided to accept it anyway. 
    - So, a handmaid? Pardon my curiosity, I have never met one in my whole life. What does it entail?
    - It’s the same thing as medieval time handmaids. You’re by the heiress’ side making sure she’s happy. - it was an over-explanation of what her job truly entailed but Y/N didn’t have enough time to completely go through what being a handmaid truly was like. - You mentioned the Deschamps. Excuse me asking but I’ve been in this environment since I was younger and I never heard about that mob family.
   - Oh they’re not a mob family. The Deschamps aren’t part of the mob however they are rich, they had money even after the French Revolution. They own more New York real state than the Stans so they normally make an appearance at every single event. 
   - I thought the Stans owned all of the Upper East Side. 
   - They wished. - he scoffed. - I remember a time when one of the mob families tried to get an engagement with a Deschamps. Can’t remember her name, though. Rosemarie, maybe.
   - Never heard of it. - Y/N shrugged. - Enjoying the party so far?
   - I didn’t expect Genevieve Forrest to be that frivolous. It’s nothing like her father. 
   - She’s young. 
   - You can only blame so much on age, Miss Y/N. 
The talk was mostly void of interest, just a polite dance she used to do with anyone and everyone who spoke to her. Once the part became too much for her to handle, she took back to her bedroom sitting down in her bed with various questions going through her mind. Her eyes quickly gazed over her laptop laying on top of her suitcase. She shouldn’t, this was just putting herself deeper and deeper down a hole that kept bringing her more sleepless nights. Yet, as per usual, Y/N did not stop herself and soon enough she found herself with her laptop on her lap, Google on as she typed that very spoke about name. Deschamps. As she finished typing that name and pressed enter several pictures showed up along with a bit of information. Turns out Mr. Dubois was right, they were rich, filthy rich and by the look of it, mostly based in Saint-Nom-La-Bretèch. As she went through the pictures, one of them caught her attention as in the picture stood quite a big crowd of people but one woman in particular standing at the front shared a significant resemblance to the Robin woman that had kept showing on Sebastian’s and Mr. Forrest’s attic. However, the golden necklace that now laid in the middle of Y/N’s collarbones was missing from the woman’s neck in the picture.
Curiously, Y/N clicked the link connected to the photo which led to an article about the acquisition of the Metropolitan Opera House in New York. The picture on the article had a legend and as she went through, she reached the name of the only woman in the figure; Rosemarie Deschamps, the eldest daughter of Michael Deschamps. Surprised, Y/N closed her laptop forcefully, hiding behind her duvet like a scared child. It was just in her mind, it was just in her mind, she didn’t need to know, why did she need to know. Even if she was related to the Deschamps she was probably a bastard child whom the Forrests took pity on. 
With those thoughts, she dozed off to sleep. Between all of this and her relationship with Sebastian she didn’t exactly know how she could sleep peacefully and throughout the night she kept somehow waking up in cold sweats. When she finally managed to have more than just a few minutes of sleep around sunrise, a loud knock followed by her name being screamed in a high pitched female voice took her right off her sleeping state. Great. Through her sleepiness, she mumbled for however it was at the door to come in. In came Gwen dressed like a Givenchy model in a harsh shade of green and white. 
    - Y/N, I need a favour. - she sat on the edge of her bed. - I have my wedding dress fitting today but I really can’t be asked besides Christian and I were thinking about going for brunch. 
    - We’re not the same size. - Y/N mumbled against her pillow, sleep trying to fight through her awareness. 
    - Just check if the dress is okay. C’mon Y/N. - Gwen pulled the duvet away from her. - Please, I covered for you.
   - Okay.
Gwen clapped in excitement before pulling the handmaid up to her bedroom which was filled to the brim with people carrying needles and threads along with various swatches of fabric. Before Y/N could question what was happening, she was brought by one of the woman to stand in front of the mirror while another one opened a white box pulling out Gwen’s wedding dress. Gwen was nowhere to be seen, probably already left and before Y/N could even check for that, the dress was being pushed down her, sitting a bit too loose. Her eyes glued to the mirror as she saw herself in the wedding dress, the white fabric almost glistening with the light. It was a beautiful dress, mostly made out of fabric.
  - Genevieve, we need to spe ... - Y/N turned around at the different voice that came from the door. Sebastian was leaning against it, almost sure his eyes were playing tricks on him as he observed Y/N dressed in bridal fashion. - Angel, what are you doing here?
  - Gwen asked me to cover for her. - she didn’t even lie anymore, instead facing him with the truth that he would probably hear from everyone else. - Is it important?
  - PR bullshit, if you ask me. - he took a step towards her, fully inspecting the gown wrapped around the handmaid. - You look stunning.
  - It’s not my dress. - she forcefully smiled, not sure if she should cry or not. It wasn’t everyday that you get dressed in the wedding dress belonging to the woman who’s about to get married to the man she was hopelessly in love with.
Yet again, she kept digging herself a hole which she wasn’t sure she could ever come out from. 
tag list: @lilya-petrichor​​ @xoxohannahlee​​ @irespostthingsiwanttoseelater​​ @nikkipea​​ @madisonpillstrom​​ @cevans98​​ @thelostallycat​​ @sideeffectsofyou​​ @anxiousdreamersworld​​ @captainchrisstan​​ @lookiamtrying​​ @sarge-barnes-sir​​ @stuffforreferences​​ @thebadassbitchqueen @sebastianstansqueen​​ @nsfwsebbie​​ @strangerliaa​​ @emzd34​​ @everything-is-awesomesauce​​ @dreams-in-blxck​​ 
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wiypt-writes · 4 years ago
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Stark Spangled Banner
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Ch37: Fourteen Million, Six Hundred And Five Part 1- Wakanda Forever.
Intro: Thor, Rocker and Groot arrive on Nidevallir and the god quickly realises something is wrong. Meanwhile, on Titan, Tony is trying desperately to rally the rest of the Guardians into some sort of organised unit, whilst in Wakanda it isn’t the organisation that the rest of the Avengers is having issues with…
Warnings: Bad Language words.
Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark
A/N: So I HAD to write Thor and Tony’s POV over the IW chaptres too, because, frankly, they had some of THE best scenes in Infinity War, and I love that freaking Norse God Himbo and chaotic Stark chemistry so bad! I know this is Katie and Steve’s fic, but Steve had so little screen time in this film all things considered…we were so robbed!!! @angrybirdcr​ once again, beautiful editing!
Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.
Chapter 36 Part 2
Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist
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Oh how Thor missed his hammer! How had it all gone so terribly wrong? He’d left Earth and his friends three years ago to go hunting those wretched stones and had failed, miserably. Now his Father was dead, his brother was dead, Heimdel was dead, half his people were dead. His home planet was gone, he only had one eye, and if he didn’t stop Thanos then his friends on Earth weren’t going to fare much better than the ones on Asgard had.
He chewed the inside of his cheek, his left knee jiggling a little bit with nervous anticipation as his mind flickered to Little Stark and the Captain. He wondered how they’d been getting on, how the few years post their marriage had been for them, whether there were any Little Little Starks or Little Caps roaming around…
“So, dead brother, huh?” Thor looked up to see the rabbit was stood a few feet away, pressing buttons on a screen as he spoke. “Yeah that can be annoying.”
“Well, he’s been dead before.”  Thor huffed. "But this time, I think it really might be true.”
“And you said that your sister and your dad…”
“Both dead." 
"You guys still got a mom, though?” The Rabbit pressed.
“Killed by a dark elf.” Thor replied, monotonously.
“Best friend?”
“Stabbed through the heart.”
“And you sure you’re up for this particular murder mission?” Rocket asked, frowning slightly.
“Absolutely!” Thor forced a smile, as he looked at the animal “Rage and vengeance, anger, loss, regret. They’re all tremendous motivators. They really clear the mind. So I’m err, good to go.” He nodded firmly, making a fist.
"Yeah, but this is Thanos we’re talking about he’s the toughest there is.”
“Well, he’s never fought me.” Thor deadpanned.
“Yeah, he has.” Rocket shrugged, and Thor took a deep breath.
“Well, he’s never fought me twice. And I’ll be getting a new hammer, don’t forget.”
“Well, it’d better be some hammer.”
There was a pause before Thor took a breath.
“You know, I’m fifteen hundred years old,” he began, looking at nothing in particular as he pondered over things. "I’ve killed twice as many enemies and every enemy I have faced would have rather killed me, but none succeeded. I am only still alive because fate wants me to be.” At that point he paused and couldn’t help but smile at a conversation he had had with the Captain about fate bringing him and Little Stark together. The Captain didn’t believe in fate, but he did. "Thanos is just the latest in a long line of bastards, and he’ll be the latest to feel my vengeance.” Thor nodded firmly as he concluded. “Fate wills it so." 
"Mhm.” Rocket hummed hesitating, but he knew he had to ask, “And what if you’re wrong?”
“Well if I’m wrong, what else could I lose?” Thor sniffed, and wiped at the tear that had escaped from his eye before he headed to the front of the pod to take a seat.
“Well, if fate does want you to kill that crap-sack, you’re gonna need more than one stupid eyeball.” Rocket held out his paw as he headed to the seat in front of Thor.
“What’s this?” Thor frowned, eyeing the object that the rabbit had given him.
“What’s it look like? Some jerk lost a bet with me in Contraxia.”
“He gave you his eye in return?” Thor frowned.
“No, he gave me a hundred credits. I snuck into his room later that night and stole his eye.”
“Thank you, sweet rabbit.” Thor smiled, pulling the patch off of his left eye to push the eyeball into the socket.
Rocket grimaced. “Ooh, errr, I would’ve washed that before, erm…” He swallowed and shook his head.  “The only way I could sneak it off Contraxia was up my-” He was cut off as an alarm started. “Hey we’re here.”
Thor frowned as he stood up to get a closer look out of the front of the pod. “I don’t think this thing works,” he slapped at the side of his head, his new eye spinning in the socket. “Everything seems dark.”
“That’s not the eye.” Rocket took a deep breath as they all stared out of the cockpit at the black sky and surrounding area in space.
They docked and slowly made their way off the pod and carefully made their walked across the dark terrain of the planet.
“I hope these dwarves are better at forging than they are at cleaning.” Rocket looked around at the junk that lay all over the place as Thor glanced over the deserted area, a puzzled expression on his face. “Hey, maybe they realized they live in a junk pile in the middle of space.”
"The forge hasn’t gone dark in centuries.” Thor shook his head. No, he could feel it. Something was very, very wrong.
“You said Thanos had a gauntlet, right?” Rocket stopped walking.
“Yes. Why?” Thor asked, searching the sky. For what he didn’t know.
“Did it look anything like that?”
Thor turned and looked over to where Rocket was pointing and his blood ran cold as he saw, sitting upon one of the stone tables, a mould for the gauntlet Thanos was wearing when he attacked his ship. Suddenly, realisation washed over him.
Thanos had been here. And that wasn’t good. At all. In fact it was about as far from good as anything could be. 
“I am Groot?”
“Go back to the pod.” Thor commanded before something struck him hard and he went flying through the air as Rocket and Groot scattered in the opposite direction.
Thor pushed himself up, and turning round, he saw the large mass coming towards him. Scrambling backwards he fell against something, hard and held his hands up, palms open in a placating manner.
“Eitri, wait!” He called loudly. “Stop! It’s me!”
"Thor?” The Dwarf paused, fist still raised as Thor gave a node. “Is that you?”
There was a pause and the Dwarf dropped his hand slightly. Thor swallowed and looked up at him, taking a deep breath. “What happened here?” The god asked.
“You were supposed to protect us!” the Dwarf cried, his voice cracking “Asgard was supposed to protect us!”
“Asgard is destroyed,” Thor choked out, getting to his feet. He pointed to the gauntlet on the table. “Eitri the glove, what did you do?”
Eitri let out a shuddering breath as he stumbling over to a wall and fell heavily upon it, sliding down to the floor. “Three hundred dwarves lived on this ring. I thought if I did what he asked, they’d be safe. I made what he wanted. A device capable of harnessing the power of the stones. And he killed everyone anyway. All except me. ‘Your life is yours,’ he said. 'But your hands…your hands are mine alone.’” With that the dwarf raised both his hands and Thor felt his eyes widen as he saw they were covered in in metal from the forge.
Thor paused, but then he shook his head. No, this wouldn’t do. He needed a new hammer. There had to be a way.
Even in the word can’t there’s the word can…
Little Stark’s voice echoed in his head, a line he had heard her say once to Barton just before the archer had thrown a pop tart at her head. Man he would kill for a pop tart right now. 
But no, she was right. He wasn’t giving up
“Eitri, this isn’t about your hands”. Thor shook his head. “Every weapon you’ve ever designed, every axe, hammer, sword it’s all inside your head. Now I know it feels like all hope is lost. Trust me, I know. But together, we can kill Thanos.”
***** Tony, Peter and Dr Strange had arrived on Titan. But they were greeted with a not-so-welcoming party. After a bit of a struggle, Tony had some blue faced dude on his back, repulsor raised whilst one of the other guys had Parker in a headlock, gun pointed at his head. As they faced off against each other, the man pointing the gun at Peter spoke.
“Alright, everybody, stay where you are, chill the eff out.” His helmet disappeared to reveal a dark haired man, his eyes darted across the three of them. “I’m gonna ask you this one time. Where’s Gamora?” What the fuck? 
Tony gave a groan of exasperation as he removed his helmet and looked at the man. “Yeah, I’ll do you one better. Who’s Gamora?” “I’ll do you one better!” The man under Tony’s foot spoke “Why is Gamora?”
”Tell me where the girl is, or I swear to you, I’m gonna French-fry this little freak.” The man tightened his hand on Parker and Tony felt his temper snap.
“Let’s do it! You shoot my guy, I blast him. Let’s go!” He yelled, extended his nano-tech cannon and pointing it straight at the guys face.
“Do it, Quill! I can take it.” The man snarled at him. 
Jesus Christ it was like arguing with Rogers.
“No, he can’t take it!” The woman with the strange antennae insisted.
 “She’s right. You can't.” Dr Strange but in, completely deadpan, his tone bored.
“Oh yeah? You don’t wanna tell me where she is? That’s fine. I’ll kill all three of you and beat it out of Thanos myself.” The man they now knew to be Quill glanced at Parker. “Starting with you.”
 “Wait, what. Thanos?” Before Tony could say anything, Strange beat him to it. “Alright, let me ask you this one time, what master do you serve?”
”What master do I serve?” Quill looked at him, sarcasm dripping from his voice and body language. “What am I supposed to say, Jesus?”
“You’re from Earth?” Tony looked at him, suddenly cottoning on.
“I’m not from Earth. I’m from Missouri”
“Yeah, that’s on Earth, dip-shit.” Tony spat, with the tone of someone talking to a very, very stupid person, which in all fairness he appeared to be doing. “What are you hassling us for?”
“So, you’re not with Thanos?”  Parker spoke for the first time.
“WITH Thanos?!” Quill scoffed indignantly “No, I’m here to kill Thanos! He took my girl. Wait… who are you?”
“We’re the Avengers, man.” Parker remoeved his helmet and mask.
“Oh” Quill relaxed his hold a little.
“You’re the ones Thor told us about!” The bug looking woman exclaimed excitedly. 
“You know Thor?” Tony whipped round to face her, barely keeping the excitement out of his voice. They could use Point Break, man could they use him!
 “Yeah. Tall guy, not that good-looking,” Quill sniffed as Parker gave him an incredulous look, “needed saving.”
 Dr Strange paused before he asked the question Tony was dying to know the answer to. “Where is he now?”
“Took my pod, my food, my rucksack and went off to find a new hammer to kill Thanos with.” Quill shrugged as he released Parker completely. Dr Strange and Tony exchanged a crestfallen look. It didn’t appear like they were going to get any help from Thor where they were but maybe, just maybe, the rest of the Avengers would.
As they were now allies of sorts, the group all introduced themselves properly and Quill began to walk around the ground, holding out some kind of scanner, or spirit measure, Tony wasn’t sure which.
“What the heck happened to this planet? Its eight degrees off its axis.” He muttered “Gravitational pull is all over the place.”
In the background Mantis was jumping up and down, floating higher than she should have been able to, almost as if she was jumping on some trampoline. Tony watched her for a second before an idea formed in his mind.
“Yeah, we got one advantage. He’s coming to us. We’ll use it.” He said, firmly. “All right, I have a plan” he looked round at the group, “or at least the beginnings of one. It’s pretty simple. We draw him in, pin him down, get what we need. Definitely don’t wanna dance with this guy. We just want the gauntlet.”
At that Drax gave a loud yawn and Tony glared at him.
 “Are you yawning? In the middle of this, while I’m breaking it down? Huh? Did you hear what I said?”
“I stopped listening after you said we need a plan.” Drax shrugged honestly
“Okay, Mr. Clean is on his own page.” Tony looked at Quill for help.
“See, not winging it, isn’t really what they do” Quill pulled a face, almost apologetically.
“Uh, what exactly is it that they do?” Parker asked.
“Kick names, take ass.” Mantis replied with all the ferocity of an eight week old kitten.
“Yeah, that’s right” Drax nodded as he settled into a stance, facing the remaining Avengers.
Right there Tony took it all back. This was nothing like trying to deal with Rogers.
Cap was a stubborn son-of-a-bitch, but he was smart. He would listen and would get them to listen too. As Tony paused, for the first time in ages actually wishing Rogers was in front of him, an expression of deep hopelessness crossed his face before he spoke again “Alright, just get over here, please. Mr. Lord, can you get your folks to circle up?”
“Mr. Lord, Star-Lord is fine.” Quill motioned to Drax and Mantis to come and listen.
“We gotta coalesce.” Tony tried again in a softer voice. “ Cause if all we come at him with is a plucky attitude…”
“Dude, don’t call us plucky. We don’t know what it means.” Quill shook his head, and internally Tony died a little more. Alright, we’re optimistic, yes. I like your plan. Except it sucks, so let me do the plan, and that way it might be really good.”
“Tell him about the dance-off to save the universe.” Drax interjected.
“What dance-off?” Tony frowned.
“It’s not a… it’s not… it’s nothing” Quill shook his head.
“Like in Footloose, the movie?” Parker interjected.
“Exactly like Footloose!” Quill looked at him excitedly “Is it still the greatest movie in history?
“It never was.” 
“Don’t encourage this, alright?” Tony rounded on the kid as Quill wore an expression that looked like the wind had been completely sucked out of his sails. “We’re getting no help from Flash Gordon here”.
“Flash Gordon? By the way, that’s a compliment. Don’t forget, I’m half human” Quill pointed at Tony and Peter “So that fifty-percent of me that’s stupid? That’s a hundred-percent you.”
“Your math is blowing my mind.” Tony deadpanned.
“Excuse me, but…” Mantis spoke, and Tony looked at her, before his attention was taken by Strange and he frowned again. “Does your friend often do that?
The Wizard was sitting cross-legged, floating slightly above the ground, his hands poised in a mystic gesture with the Time Stone glowing brightly in the pendant round his neck. Green vapour like energy swirled around him, his cloak billowing behind, as if caught on a breeze. His head was jerking rapidly from side to side, the motion blurring, but almost like he was looking for something.
 Tony stepped towards him “Strange! We alright?”
 Suddenly, Strange snapped out of his trance and fell forward, letting out a cry. Tony gently caught him.
“You’re back. You’re alright”
 “Hey, what was that?” Parker asked.
 “I went forward in time to view alternate futures,” Strange panted slightly as he caught his breath, looking at Tony, eyes wide, “to see all the possible outcomes of the coming conflict.
 “How many did you see?” Quill asked
 “Fourteen million, six hundred and five.”
 Tony wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer to the next question, but he asked it anyway. “How many did we win?
There was a pregnant pause as Dr Strange stared intently at him for a moment before he took a deep breath and looked Tony straight in the eyes. “One.”
*****
"How are we looking, Bruce?” Natasha spoke nto the coms device glancing back over her shoulder, prompting Katie to do the same, where she could see Bruce running behind the hovercrafts in the giant Hulk buster suit. He’d been unable to get the Hulk to come out, sheepishly explaining they were having issues, so Steve had suggested calmly as everyone else had almost had a meltdown, that this was the next best thing.
“Yeah, I think I’m getting the hang of it,” Bruce responded sounding excited, “it’s so amazing! Man it’s like being the Hulk without actually…” He was cut off as he tripped over a piece of rock jutting out of the ground and crashed to the floor. Katie sighed and turned her attention back out across the vast Wakandan land.
“I’m ok. I’m ok!”
“Steve,” Katie swallowed, catching her husband’s attention. He turned to look at her over his shoulder, but she found she didn’t really know what she wanted to say. She was worried, scared, underprepared.
“I know.” Steve responded with a soft voice, instantly understanding her, he always did. He reached round to pull her to him, his left arm over her shoulder, trying to lend her some comfort as they continued their journey, the wind whipping their hair as they sped across the planes.
Eventually the hovercrafts began to slow before they came to a stop, the Wakandan warriors easily jumping off the side of the craft and falling into line. Steve hopped down, turning to Katie, both his hands on her waist as she jumped and he lifted her down, her feet landing on the dry, brown grass of the Serengeti that stretched for miles around them.
"Alright I’ve got two heat signatures breaking through the treeline.” Rhodey informed from high above. Instantly, Steve and Katie’s eyes flew upwards to watch him zooming overhead as T'Challa in his panther suit led them all to the centremost group where the Wakandans had started up a war chant.
“Thank you for standing with us.” The king spoke to a large man dressed in furs getting his own block ready for battle. The man said something in their language shaking T'Challa’s hand, before the king looked back at the barrier and the ships surrounding it and then turned to Steve who nodded. Katie took a deep breath and pressed the star on her bangle. The nano-particles spread up her arm, across her chest and down, encasing her completely in her suit.  
Steve’s eyebrow raised at the action. “So that’s new.” He quipped, a sideways smile spreading across his face and Katie shrugged.
“Nano-tech, apparently.” She engaged her helmet and began running her scanners. “I can’t get a lock on what’s in those ships though.”
“Well, let’s go find out.” Steve suggested gently, and along with Natasha and T’Challa, they headed to the edge of the dome. The tall, blue haired woman they had grappled with in Edinburgh was there with a huge beast they hadn’t seen before, one of the ones that had attacked New York. As they watched, she drew her sword across the force field which fizzled as she tested the strength, cocking her head to the side.
“Where’s your other friend?” Katie asked her and Steve almost rolled his eyes at her deliberate dig. The woman glared at her.
“You will pay for his life with yours. Thanos will have that stone.”
“That’s not gonna happen.” Steve’s voice remained even, not a threat as such, simply a statement, as he raised his chin and looked her straight in the face.
T’Challa, however, was much more aggressive as he spoke and Katie looked at him, surprised by the normally mild mannered man’s fierce tone.
“You are in Wakanda now.” He glared at their foes. “Thanos will have nothing but dust and blood.”
“We have blood to spare.” The Woman smirked a little as she brandished her sword with a snarl. Behind her, the ships started raising their outer hulls.
Knowing that was about as much a conversation as they were getting, and as much of one as he wanted, Steve gestured with his head and the four of them made their way back. Steve made sure Katie and Natasha were in front of him, just in case, and every so often he threw a glance over his shoulder as the ships continued to open.
“They surrender?” Bucky asked as Steve took up his place at his best friend’s side, Katie falling in line to Steve’s right.
“Not exactly.” Steve huffed.
Katie glanced round Steve over to Bucky and nodded to the gun in his hand “Sure you can handle that, sweetheart?”
Steve let out a snort and his mouth curved into a grin as he recalled Bucky saying the same thing to her almost two years previously. Bucky gave a bark of a laugh and winked at Katie who raised an eyebrow, smirking. Then the three of them turned their attention back to the edge of the dome and, as they watched, a horde of what looked like mutated dogs rushed through the trees and foliage, heading straight for the barrier.
T'Challa began to chant with his army, repeating the war-cry loudly, as the blue horned woman thrust her sword down and the creatures rushed forward smashing themselves into the barrier without care.
“What the hell?” Bucky muttered watching the creatures try to force themselves in, but every limb and body part that passed through the field ended up being cut off.
“Looks like we pissed her off.” Nat pointed out.
“Just a little.” Katie turned her head to look at her.
Steve remained still, observing, sizing up his opponent as ever, not flinching an inch even when he spotted that some of the creatures managed to get halfway through before they were cut in half. 
“They’re killing themselves.” Okoye breathed in shock as the creatures carried on.
The front line of the blocks of warriors quickly raised their shields when they noticed a small handful of the creatures had actually managed to get through, their badly burnt bodies cantering across the plains towards them. With a command from T'Challa the army began firing weapons at a few that drew near.
“Honey.” Steve turned to Katie, taking a deep breath. He didn’t want her to leave his side but they needed all the fire power they had. With a nod, and a quick squeeze of his hand, she engaged her helmet and launched herself into the air.
She drew up alongside Sam, who turned his head to grin at her as she sped alongside him. Despite the situation, she couldn’t help but put herself into a little twirl, allowing the euphoria at being up there again, fully suited after so long, to take her away for a moment. But then, it was down to business and the two of them began to work in tandem, dropping missiles and bombs at the stragglers.
“You see the teeth on those things?” Sam’s astonished voice said
“Alright, Kiddo, let’s go. Back up, Sammy,” Rhodey warned, as he flew along the edge of the dome, dropping more bombs on the creatures that were still partially getting through, “you’ll get your wings singed.”
Katie surged forward, taking the opposite side of the dome, engaging her shoulder cannons, blasting away the ones underneath, but then FRIDAY locked onto some of the creatures on either end of the swarm who had begun to make their way further from the main pile running along the outside of the barrier that circled the city.
“They’re spreading out!” Katie called in warning.
“Cap, if these things circle the perimeter and get in behind us,” Bruce echoed, “there’s nothing between them and Vision.”
“Then we better keep them in front of us.” Steve responded calmly, his gaze not once faltering as he simply watched the edge of the dome.
“How do we do that?” Okoye scoffed.
“We open the barrier,” T’Challa replied with resolve. Steve turned to look at him, taking a deep breath. “On my signal, open Northwest Section Seventeen.”
“Requesting confirmation my king…you said open the barrier?”
“On my signal.” He confirmed his instructions.
Steve lifted his arms, engaging the shields that T’Challa had given him, as Sam and Katie continued to circle high up, shooting a few more strays before they flew over the assembled troops, hovering and waiting for the command.  
T’Challa stepped forward before the armies, crossing his arms before his chest. “Wakanda forever!” he cried out.
“Wakanda forever!” was the answering shout from his people before they all took off running for the barrier.
“NOW!” T'Challa shouted into his communicator, and a small portion of the barrier opened, allowing the creatures to spill.
Steve ran with T’challa, the pair of them forging ahead of the running army at super speed as they sprinted in unison. Upon reaching a shallow stream, they both launched themselves up and over, propelling themselves at the creatures and from there the battle was on.
Katie was swooping, shooting, diving, taking out as many of the creatures as she could. The weapons upgrades Tony had made were amazing-she had the ability to turn her gauntlet into a sword of sorts, she had a shield, guns…you name it and FRIDAY was on hand to remind her exactly what she had and automatically use them when needed. All in all, it was the best Supernova suit her brother had ever developed, and she felt hopeful that his latest Iron Man one would be good enough to keep him safe wherever he was.
Steve, meanwhile, was hammering the pointed end of his shields into any of the creatures that came near enough. Bucky was gunning down those that came towards him, the Wakandan Warriors were using their spears and guns. The animals weren’t hard to take down, a decent hook or shot to the head did it, but they were persistent and there was so damned many of them…
“How much longer, Shuri?” T'Challa’s voice rang in Steve’s ear as he kicked another one of the animals straight in the mouth sending it flying.
“We’ve barely begun, brother!”
“You might want to pick up the pace!” T’Challa urged.
“Please do…” Steve found himself muttering as he pounded another of the creatures, feeling its scull crush beneath his knuckles.
*****
Thor had managed to get the Forge started again, using the pod and a large rope to pull the stuck rings into a spin, but then the iris had snapped, leaving nothing for it. He had to open it himself.
“All-fathers, give me strength.” He mumbled as he rolled his shoulders preparing to grab either side of the iris.
“You understand, boy?” Eitri warned. “You’re about to take the full force of a star. It’ll kill you.”
“Only if I die.” Thor cracked his neck as he took a deep breath. He had to survive, fate willed it, he was going to kill Thanos.  
”Yes. That’s what…killing you means.” Eitri frowned, utterly boggled at Thor’s words.
Thor pulled down on the two levers, bringing them towards him and the iris began to open. The stream of pure, stellar energy blasted past him and into the forge once more. Thor grit his teeth as the force of the full beam of the star burned through him, like nothing he had ever felt before.
“Hold it! Hold it, Thor!”
The metal ingots began to melt and Thor let out a yell as he felt his skin burning, until he could hold it no more and his grip slipped. He fell down into the forge, bouncing limply off a structure and landing on the floor, harshly as Rocket, who had followed in the pod, grimaced. The thud Thor’s body made as it landed was enough to make Groot look up from his game.
“Thor! Say something. Come on. Thor, you okay?” Rocket asked, looking at the god who appeared as far from okay as you could get.
Eitri was clumsily and urgently pulling the mould, which was still glowing red hot. onto the floor. He broke it loose from the frame, punching it with his metal fists to free the axe head.
“I think he’s dying!” Rocket stuttered, looking up urgently for help
“He needs the axe!” Eitri said, frantically “Where’s the handle? Tree, help me find the handle!”
As the two sides of the axe head lay glowing on the floor, Groot looked sadly at Thor, as Eitri was desperately searchin for the handle. Then, realising he could help, the tree scowled with determination and stood, extending his fingers towards the parts of the axe-head, growing them at extraordinary speed. As he twined them around the metal, he cried out at the burning pain but didn’t hesitate, slamming them together and locking them permanently into one structure by winding the growing vines around them. He raised it high above his head and, with a mighty cry, chopped his extended arm with the other hand to sever it.
Thor lay motionless, but then his fingers twitched, and the new weapon levitated in a crackle of lightning echoed by the sparks between the God’s fingers…
***** Chapter 37 Part 2
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