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buckyownsmylife · 4 years ago

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daddy issues - chapter xiv

The one where Ransom doesn’t feel ready to become a father, but he should have thought about it before sleeping with a complete stranger.

When Ransom’s latest one night stand lets him know that he’s going to become a father, he finds himself looking for the qualities he never believed to have so he can become the parent he never got to witness as a child.

for general warnings and author’s notes, please go to the fic’s masterlist.

A/N for this chapter: this chapter’s coming to you unedited because I am honestly emotionally exhausted and the only reason I even got this done is because “playing” with these two makes me happy. So yeah, I’m officially stretching the story a bit more (next chapter is the one I’ve been referring to for a while) and after it we’ll be pretty close to the end!

Y/N’s P.O.V.

Ransom had been a weird mixture of nervous and excited ever since he picked me up from work after visiting his grandfather. I knew they had a good relationship - from what I gathered, it was the only truly peaceful relationship he kept with his entire family - so I didn’t understand what the anxiety was about until he admitted, almost blurting out, “He asked me to visit the publishing house with him tomorrow.”

It was impossible to contain my smile. “That’s great, honey! He really does trust you, huh?” But Ransom didn’t even nod, just kept looking at me with eyes filled with a heavy emotion I couldn’t name, so I tried to occupy myself with other stuff.

“What time are you leaving? Do you want me to book a car to take me to university or will you still be able to give you a ride?” When he didn’t immediately answer me, I raised my gaze from the pile of essays in my hands to check on him, and the moment our eyes met, he seemed to snap out of whatever it was that was keeping him immobilized.

“No, I should be able to take you. Don’t worry about it.” I wasn’t worried, but I knew Ransom enough by now to be aware that he wouldn’t relent, not wanting me to go to my workplace without him, so I just smiled.

“Okay, babe.” The petname escaped my lips so easily, I froze when my own ears processed it, but I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. Out of the corner of my eye, I could still see Ransom’s frame paralyzed where I had left him, so I just focused on my work and pretended like nothing different had happened.

“I should be up in a minute.” I tried to act as nonchalant as possible. I didn’t look at him again, but I saw him nod from my peripheral vision before turning around and leaving towards the staircase, allowing me to breathe deeply again. What the hell was going on with me?

Ransom’s P.O.V.

She never came to bed when she did decide to call it a night. Well, she did stop by my bedroom, but chose to remain by the threshold until I caught sight of her figure, and when our eyes met, she smiled and wished me a good night.

I sighed when I realized that I was going to have to sleep alone. I didn’t like that, I didn’t want it. But there was nothing I could really do about it. She wasn’t my girlfriend, she was just the mother of my baby. At least to her own eyes.

Having her so close and then seeing her pull away was tearing at my heart, which is why when I got up in the morning to find her in the kitchen, breakfast already made while a packet waited next to my plate, I felt like I would physically melt.

“What is this?” I asked, already reaching out for it. I opened and checked to find a few sandwiches - homemade - before she could confirm what my eyes were seeing, but I was still struggling to process.

“I-I fixed you a lunch bag. I don’t know how long it’s going to be with your grandpa, didn’t want you to starve.” I just stared at her, unblinking, while this warm feeling spread over my chest, even turning me on.

Because I understood what this was. I understood what she meant by this. This was her, recognizing she had taken two steps back yesterday, and compensating with a gesture that moved us even closer to where I hoped to take us.

My heartbeat picked up at the realization that she did want something more. She did, she just needed time to adjust. And I could give her that - I could keep giving her that, just as long as we kept moving forward.

“It’s okay if you don’t want it.” I’d taken too long to answer, she had approached me quickly to snatch the bag from my grasp. “It’s stupid anyway.” I stopped her, both hands on her waist before she could fully turn around.

“No, give me it!” I know it sounded whiney, but I didn’t want to risk being without my lunch bag. Once it was in the safety of my hands, I put it to the side for just enough time to cradle her face and force her to take in what I had to say. “Don’t you ever say anything you did for me is stupid. I’m not used to having people do things for me because they thing I’d like or need them. This means everything to me.”

The soft smile she gave me, the way her eyes looked up at me from under her eyelashes had me feeling like I was on a rollercoaster and the fall had just begun. I suppose, in many ways, it already had.

The little gesture didn’t leave my mind the entire day. I caught myself smiling at nothing, becoming easily distracted while Harlan tried to explain something about the presses to me, but every time I ran a hand over my face and apologized, he just gave me a knowing smile.

I didn’t even feel embarrassed about it. I was almost proud, really. I had spent an entire life having to pay for what I needed - and I did it, unashamedly so. And now there was this incredible woman who wanted to take care of me. I could barely believe it.

I couldn’t believe that this woman that I didn’t even know a few months ago was now everything I thought of, everything I wanted in life.

Everything was going well, too well. I should have known it was only a matter of time until something ruined it.

I first noticed it because Harlan’s face suddenly fell when he raised his gaze to meet mine, instead settling on something over my shoulder. When I turned around, I quickly understood why.

It was my mom, and by the way she marched in our direction, she clearly wasn’t here to do anything cheerful.

“Was I supposed to know about you having a baby through my own father?” I cringed, even visibly flinched at the knowledge that she now knew about my kid. “Have you no respect for your mother?”

My snicker said everything she needed to know, and when she raised a finger to shake it on my face, it took Harlan to control us both. “Okay, alright, that’s it. This is still my place of work, an extension of my house, I won’t have you two disrespecting it’s sanctity.”

I huffed, adjusting my coat as I turned my back on her to focus on my grandfather again. He was the reason why I was there, and the only reason why I didn’t just leave upon seeing my mother.

“Now, Linda, if Ransom didn’t tell you about something this important in his life, there must be a reason for it. What do you think it is?” My mother turned her face from her own father, seeming particularly interested on her own high heel shoes now. We both knew she wouldn’t relent, so with a sigh, Harlan met my eyes, silently asking me to be the bigger person here - I knew.

“How about this, I’ve been meaning to have you all for dinner for a while, it’s been a long time since the family gathered for anything other than a holiday. Is Friday good for both of you? You can bring the girl, if you want.” That last part was directed to me specifically, making my eyes widen. I could only imagine what she would say if I suggested a family dinner with my entire family, especially considering everything I had told her about them - and why I wasn’t excited to tell them about the baby in the slightest.

“I’ll see, but she might be busy.” My mother snickered, making me narrow my eyes at her, thinking about a very important reassurance I needed to get before I even considering attending that dinner. “If I do end up bringing her, I don’t want to see any of you all treating her as anything less than a princess, is that understood?”

Of course, Harlan knew I was speaking more to my mother than to him, and that I expected the message to be extended to the rest of the family before Friday rolled around, but seeing as my mother was still brushing her already perfectly clean skirt, he was the one to answer.

“Of course, Ransom. We’re all excited to meet her, she’s a welcome guest in my house.” The warning was there for the both of us. And even though it was my mother that would need to keep that in mind, I already knew I was the one who would end up leaving the only place outside my house where I felt safe because as long as she was there, there was no way I’d feel okay.

#my series #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale reader #ransom drysdale reader insert #ransom drysdale reader inserts #ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom drysdale writings #ransom drysdale series

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melliflovs · 4 years ago

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Chapter Two - Yuji x Reader

Word Count: 2,301

Warnings: Sukuna being Sukuna

Summary: A movie night with Megumi gets interrupted and training the next day with Yuji.

Series Masterlist Pinned!

You burst into Megumi's dorm room without knocking, throwing Nanami's freshly dry cleaned suit over the back of a chair. "You'll never guess why I was summoned earlier." You said, walking over to your friend who sat on his bed. His eyes lifting from his phone, the black haired boy's thumb only pausing the repetitive scrolling for a moment.

"What?" He deadpanned before resuming whatever he was doing on his phone. "Well," You said sighing loudly. "I am now partners with the one and only Yuji Itadori, effective immediately."

Megumi looked up at you in confusion, eyebrows knitted together. "Why would Gojo want that?" You sat down beside him on the small bed.

"Beats me." You shrugged. "But," You began, a shit eating grin lighting up your face. "A certain King of Curses thinks I'm hot."

Megumi's arm shot out towards you shoving you lightly, "That not funny, don't joke about that."

You scoffed at him "What, do you think I'm not pretty enough for Sukuna or something? Besides I wasn't joking." You got up from beside him, admittedly slightly annoyed at his reaction. The dorms were small but each one had a cupboard for a small amount of food storage. You walked over to it and grabbed a bag of unpopped popcorn.

"So you're telling me that Sukuna - the baddest of the bad has his eyes on you now?" He said in disbelief, following you around the small room.

"Does it really matter? He's not the one in control anyways." You said reaching down to pull out the microwave you hid in the closet. Something you could only hope would never be found by a teacher. Potential fire hazard and all. You plugged the microwave into the wall before putting the popcorn in. You turned back to Megumi as the soft popping sound began.

"Yes it matters, he's dangerous. Itadori doesn't know what he's doing yet-" He was cut off by a loud thud a shout sounding from the room next to you.

"What was that." You asked, the room going silent aside from the microwave in the background. Together the two of you listened carefully, ears practically pressed up against the wall. A few seconds passed and you'd heard nothing. "That was weird-"

"Ow!" The two of you stilled, looking at each other with wide eyes.

"Whos next door?" You whispered.

Megumi straightened out as a lightbulb when off in his head. "Yuji is."

The two of your ripped out of the dorm room, running the short way to his door as the pained cries continued. "Should I," You gestured to yourself, "Do the thing?" He finished for you "No of course not I'll just break down the door."

"What?! That's so unnecessary I can just unlock it, you idiot." You continued to bicker back and forth for a moment, not realizing that the sounds had stopped. The two of you froze as the door in front of you began to open. Yuji stepped out, a confused look on his face and a sleeping cursed doll in his hand.

"Is everything okay?" He asked, looking between you and Megumi.

"Uh, yeah. We just heard some strange sounds and got worried-" You watched in shock as the corpse in his hands woke up, immediately turning towards the boy holding it and punching him.

"Fuck!" He yelled, holding the doll as far away from his body as possible - a small red bump rising by his temple.

Megumi burst out laughing, his arms clutching his sides. You stared wide eyed at your friend, possibly more shocked by his reaction than by the abusive toy. "Gojo's making me practice control." Yuji began to explain, "I'm watching some movies if you guys want to join."

"No, it's okay. Just wanted to make sure you were safe." You responded, sending a soft smile his way as you watched the puppet's chest rise and fall with every breath while it slept.

"Are you sure?" A deeper voice asked, a mouth popping out of the back of Yuji's hand, "I'm sure you'd have a good time." It tempted. Megumi stiffened beside you, stepping forward to get in between you and the cursed boy. Itadori was still very much in control but Sukuna's words irked Megumi.

"What's wrong, Spikes." He toyed, pulling at Megumi's patience. "Am I flirting with your girl? I bet she'd enjoy herself more with us."

Yuji frowned, still holding the animated puppet away from his body. He knew that fighting with Sukuna would only encourage him in the long run, even if it upset his fellow students. At least they didn't have to hear everything he said, constantly speaking in his head.

"I dunno, Sukuna." You said, "Megumi sure knows how to make the bed rock."

Flabbergasted your friend looked down trying to hide his blush. It wasn't true, none of it was. But you figured that if you were going to have to deal with the unwelcomed spirit's chatter then you would at least have fun with it.

"Oh?" Sukuna asked, "You two don't make a very cute couple. Why do the hottest girls always pick the ugliest guys." He mused.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you watched Megumi's hands raise, subtly beginning to summon his shikagami. Your own hands shot out, grabbing him and stopping his actions. "Ya know what, it was really great catching up with you Sukuna but I have a bag of popcorn just calling my name." You smiled, trying to cover up what almost could've happened. The mouth pouted momentarily before disappearing. Satisfied you nodded goodbye to a clearly humiliated Yuji and walked back to Megumi's door, pulling him along with you.

You waited before the two of you were securely behind the wooden door before turning back to your friend. "What were you thinking out there?!" You tried to keep your voice down but quickly found yourself failing. "You could've been badly hurt or, or even killed, Megumi."

"That's what I've been trying to tell you." He rebutted, "Sukuna isn't safe, Itadori isn't safe. You shouldn't be working with him."

"You're not getting the point. Sukuna doesn't seem to care about anything that's happening right now. He's content with his vessel. What would've pissed him off is getting your dogs to attack Yuji, why would you even try that to begin with."

Megumi exhaled loudly, his anger disappearing as his shoulders deflated. "I didn't like how he was speaking to you." You shook your head at him, your own anger fleeting.

"I can handle myself. You know that."

"Yeah," He nodded, "I do know that. He should treat you better though." You walked up to him, leaning forward and resting your head on his chest. You let out a soft sigh.

"The most powerful curse known to man is living inside the body of one of our new classmates. He can say whatever he wants to me as long as it keeps everyone safe, including you." You lifted your head to look at Megumi. "So please," You stressed, "Don't do anything to upset him."

"I won't."

In truth, you didn't really believe him. Megumi was stubborn and above all would do anything to protect you. But you were a big girl now, you could hold your own. Regardless you smiled at him and put it aside, "Thank you."

Pushing yourself off his chest you turned back to the microwave, your slightly cold popcorn waiting patiently for you to eat it. "Now, what movie are we watching tonight?"

He shrugged, "Up to you."

"Maybe I should go ask Yuji for some movie recommendations." You teased, wiggling your eyebrows at Megumi. "I bet Gojo gave him a great selection."

"Yeah," He scoffed, "If you like Jennifer Lawrence."

"What are you talking about?" Sure you liked her as much as the average person but his comment caught you off guard.

"Ah, it's a guy thing." He said nonchalantly, "You wouldn't get it."

You rolled your eyes, grabbing your popcorn and striding over to his bed. "Well, are we watching a movie or not."

Megumi finally joined you as the smell of butter invaded his senses, sitting beside you and pulling out his laptop. It'd take time but eventually, you'd be able to agree on something to watch. Even if it took all night.

---

You woke up the next morning to your phone buzzing on the bedside table beside you. Without looking you answered it, worried the sound would wake the boy sleeping on the floor next to you. "Hello?" Your voice was groggy as you let out a small yawn still tired from the movie marathon the night before.

"You're late."

The sound of Nanami's voice on the end of the line made your eyes widen. You were so screwed. "Sorry, Sensei. I-" You heard a soft beep as he hung up the call. Quickly you threw the covers off yourself, careful not to wake Megumi as you grabbed your things and tugged a sweatshirt on over your pajamas.

Making your exit you quietly closed the door. Megumi was many things but he was most definitely not a morning person and the last thing you needed to deal with was the wrath of two men so early in the morning. Sprinting through the dorm hallways you made your way down the staircase and towards the gym. When you finally made it to your destination you stood outside for a moment, taking a deep breath. The last time you were late he'd made you run a lap for every second you'd missed. You were five minutes late.

Three hundred laps.

But Nanami never used the same punishment twice, which now led to an internal panic. It could be anything his brain could think of.

Trying your best to now calm yourself you were at least ten minutes late. The latest you'd ever been, but hopefully you wouldn't get hurt too bad when it was all said and done. Fearfully you pushed past the gym doors quickly spotting your mentor and Itadori.

How could you have forgotten the events of the day before? In the rush to wake up and get to training in time it'd completely slipped your mind that it wasn't just you and Nanami anymore. The sound of the door closing made both of the men turn towards you. Yuji's eyes quickly meeting yours as you walked towards them, slipping your shoes off.

Suddenly you felt oddly aware of the boy's attention, beginning to regret your wardrobe choice of leggings and a wrinkled hoodie. You bailed so fast from Megumi's room that you hadn't even stopped to look in front of a mirror, let alone wash your face or brush your teeth. Grimacing internally you attempted to brush it off - to ignore it. Being a sorcerer wasn't about your appearance or presentation it was about skill and techniques.

At least if Yuji did notice how bad you looked he was nice enough not to mention it, turning back towards his new mentor as you went to stand beside him.

"Finally." Nanami huffed, "You've decided to grace us with your presence."

"Did ya miss me 'Nami. It's only been a few hours, couldn't stand to live without me, huh?" He sent a glare your way, if looks could kill you'd be six feet under. Yuji snickered quietly beside you, trying not to get on his new teachers bad side.

"Today we're practicing teamwork. Something that you aren't great at, (y/n)." Now it was your turn to send a glare his way. "I'm fantastic at it. I don't know what you could be talking about."

"Where should I begin? Maybe the time you shoved Megumi into a room of curses as a prank? Or the time that you got Nobara so annoyed that she almost struck you with her nails? I think she still has that locket of your hair, maybe I should call her up-"

"Hey, hey, we get the picture I'm not as funny as I think I am." You grumbled, shifting on your feet. In your defense, it was a room of fly heads and Nobara was just easy to piss off. You weren't exactly expecting her to try to kill you though. It was all water under the bridge.

"Now," Your mentor continued, "I've been told there's a grade two curse at a nearby school. Tomorrow we will go and exorcise it, but today you need to get to know each other." You and Yuji turned towards each other, eyeing one another apprehensively. "But, you may under no circumstances share your cursed techniques. That will be discovered in time.

"Shucks, how will he ever know how special I am." Another glare from Nanami was enough to shut you up, maybe you should stop pushing it for now.

"I'll see you guys later."

"What?" Yuji asked, eyebrows furrowed as he looked at the blonde man. "You're just leaving us like that?"

"Yes. Is there a problem?" Nanami questioned, pulling his glasses down slightly to look directly at Itadori.

"Can't say I have a problem with being alone with (y/n)"

You let out a soft groan when you heard the deeper voice. You didn't even need to look to know that Sukuna was now talking. Your sensei, now clearly annoyed just walked away leaving the two of you - technically three of you alone in the gym.

"So.... Jennifer Lawrence?" You said, attempting to break the somewhat awkward silence.

Sukuna started laughing from Yuji's hand as his cheeks turned red, "Who told you that?"

"I never reveal my secrets." You teased at the obviously embarrassed boy. "Well if we just have to get to know each other wanna go get something to eat? I never got a chance to eat breakfast."

"Yeah." Yuji grinned, "Let's go."

#jjk itadori #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #kaisen #yuji itadori x reader #yuji itadori #jujutsu kaisen x reader #itadori yuuji #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen yuji #yuji smut #yuji itadori smut

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lastbluetardis · 3 years ago

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Sacred New Beginnings (1/?)

Summary: James Noble thought he traded away his chance at love and a happy-ever-after when he signed a contract with a record label that turned him into an international celebrity. But a chance meeting in a dive bar may prove him wrong.

Ten x Rose AU, @doctorroseprompts

This Chapter: Teen, ~5500 words

Note: Er... surprise? This idea has been in my head for months but my brain took it and ran with it this weekend. I plotted the whole thing and am gonna try to update every weekend. I don’t anticipate this being more than like... 7-10 chapter? I’d love to keep it under 5 chapters but that might be trimming things down too much for my liking. Anyways, I really hope you enjoy this little story!

AO3

Flashing lights and shrieks of his name greet James the moment the back door to his armored car is opened. His head of security ducks out first and James can only see a mass of feet and legs but it’s more than enough to let him know it’s a heavier than usual crowd. Not surprising, considering the news of his latest break-up just dropped while he’d been flying back from a visit to America.

He slides out of the car, helped by hands that pull him as much as guide him through the throng. He ignores the shouts of his name—telling him to look left or right or up or down or every combination therein—and the barrage of questions and jokes that aren’t funny.

Was it you or him that ended it?

Three weeks, is that a new personal record?

Another notch in the bedpost, eh James?

Got another beau lined up yet?

If you’re looking for candidates, what do we have to do to get our names in the running?

“Ignore them,” he mutters to himself, too quietly for anyone except his security team to hear.

In answer, one of them gives his shoulder a reassuring squeeze as they reach his front door. Someone has already unlocked it for him and the darkness within is a blessing he’s all too willing to be shoved into. The cacophony muffles once the door shuts, and finally he’s alone, a rarity for him. If it’s not his security, it’s personal assistants and writers and producers and photographers and the paparazzi.

Or his lover of the month, as the papers have taken to calling his partners.

But nope, his home is empty and quiet and bloody freezing. A shiver ripples up his spine as he treads to the thermostat controller. Summer finally released its hold on London, and the muggy heat has been replaced with a damp chill that burrows down into his bones.

Several button-presses later, James hears the familiar clank of the radiator and he can smell the heating kick on. It’ll take a while for his house to warm up, so James keeps his peacoat on for the time being as he putters around his home, checking the fridge and the cabinets. As always, they’re well-stocked. He hasn’t had to do anything as mundane as grocery shopping in the five years since his YouTube channel full of acoustic covers of popular songs went viral and landed him a lucrative deal with a prestigious record label. Only in his wildest dreams had he expected to find fame and fortune in the hobby he loved so much—for it to have actually happened still took him by surprise, as though any minute he’d be told “it was fun while it lasted, but it’s time for you to leave wonderland now.”

Shaking his head of those thoughts, he goes to the antique dining table that can easily seat ten people, which is great for holidays or in-home meetings, but just plain depressing every other day of the year. A stack of mail has piled up, and he spends the next five minutes attempting to sort it before giving up and telling himself he’ll look at it in the morning, once he’s not quite as groggy—transatlantic flights always take it out of him.

Instead, he rootles around his fridge until he comes up with the necessary items to make himself a ham and cheese sandwich. With the prospect of food in front of him, James realizes he is starving. He shoves a whole slice of ham in his mouth while he assembles his pitiful meal, heaping on lettuce and sliced tomatoes as though that’s enough to negate the pile processed protein and greasy chips he layers in for crunch.

It’s tastier than any sandwich as a right to be, and he nearly makes himself a second one before catches sight of his phone screen and the slew of incoming notifications. His work is never finished, is it?

There are several texts from his publicist, Donna, welcoming him home and congratulating him on not making an arse of himself just by trying to walk up the front drive of his home. (To be fair, he felt entitled to channel his inner crotchety old man and tell reporters to get off his damn lawn if they encroached on his personal property.)

“Though some photos are surfacing of your trip to New York… Anything you need me to get ahead of?”

He rubs his fingers into his eyes, knowing she’s probably referring to his last night out in the city, where he went bar hopping until the wee hours of the morning to try to forget the text his subsequently-ex-boyfriend had sent him.

Thanks for everything, but I need to focus on my career. Cheers mate.

The career that James had kickstarted for him by introducing his rising actor boyfriend to several of his friends in the film industry, because James had been so damn desperate for affection that he’d once again let the wool get pulled in front of his eyes.

And so James had reached out to mates who lived in New York and they’d all gone out and acted half their age and had a wonderful time once James forgot about why he’d gone out in the first place.

But none of that now. Nope. No sir.

“Not that I’m aware of,” he replies. “Let me know if you catch wind of anything.”

Despite the fact that he only just got home and he’s jetlagged and still feeling the effects of his night out in New York, James can’t stay in his house right now. It’s so quiet that his brain is creating its own white noise. He can’t stand being in his head on a good day, and today is not a good day.

He grabs his keys and wallet and makes for the back of the house. His property is landlocked with the back gardens of other houses; the paps have learned the hard way that James is dead serious about protecting his neighbors’ privacy and will not hesitate to phone the police to arrest and sue anyone caught trespassing on private property to snag a photo of him. James hosts dinner for his neighbors several times a year and buys them gifts any chance he can to show his appreciation for their patience and tolerance.

In the dead of night, he slips out into his back garden, the crisp October air burning his lungs in the best way as he ducks his way through the neighborhood, his feet taking him far away from the crowd of reporters that are still stationed in front of his own home. Hopefully they’ll all have dispersed by the time he gets back. Perhaps he should have turned on music or a movie or something, made them think he was settled in for a lazy night in.

He wanders aimlessly for a while, enjoying this taste of freedom and trying to remember the days when he could leave out the front door of his flat without any fanfare.

It’s dark, and thick clouds obscure whichever moon phase they’re in, but the street lamps glow yellow on the damp pavement, lighting his way forward. A crisp autumn breeze ruffles his hair and the leaves, sending them tumbling around him and skittering across the residential street that’s so much quieter than the bustle of New York. It’s good to be home, though.

He arrives at a bus stop and catches one headed into the city proper. It’s no secret that James lives in London, and therefore the general population has gotten used to glimpsing him on the tube or walking on the street or frequenting pubs. He knows people snap quick photos of him, and he’s always happy to stop and pose for a selfie with respectful fans, but mostly he’s left alone when he’s out by himself like this.

Nevertheless, he hears the excited undertones of people trying to inconspicuously point him out to their oblivious friends. He keeps his head down, mindlessly opening and closing apps on his phone for something to do as he pretends he doesn’t notice them. He won’t be on the bus much longer anyway.

Several people get off the bus with him, including a group of teenage girls who are whispering heatedly among themselves. It’s almost funny, watching them debate amongst themselves before one of them approaches him.

She’s red-faced but determined as she blurts, “Can we get a photo?”

“Sure thing,” he says good-naturedly, inclining his head for them to come closer. “Need me to take it?” He holds out a lanky arm and flops it around a bit. “Got a longer reach than any of you.”

He’s certain one of the girls is about to start crying with joy as they all nestle into his side and hand him a new-model iPhone. Damn, it’s fancier than his own. When he was their age, he had an old flip phone that lost reception if he breathed on it wrong. It was a tank though—he’d dropped that thing hundreds of times, and nary a scratch.

“Do me a favor,” he says, handing the phone back to its owner, “and don’t ping our location if you post to social media, yeah? I appreciate it.”

“You’re my favorite person ever,” one of the girls squeaks.

His face splits into a grin and he tucks his hands into his pockets. “Is that so?”

The girls spend the next five minutes chatting with him about music and how they’ve been following him ever since his YouTube days. He listens and chimes in every now and then when they ask him a direct question, but he prefers being passive in exchanges like this, content to hear peoples’ stories. It makes him feel normal, if only for a little while.

Finally, they take their leave, and James turns in the opposite direction even though the destination he had in mind is down the street the girls had just taken. But he’s been burned far too many times by encounters with seemingly innocent fans, only for them to begin following him around and showing up outside his house to talk to him again. He makes a point of not drawing out public encounters with his fans.

He wanders down a street he’s vaguely familiar with, figuring he can backtrack in a couple blocks. The night is too beautiful for him to be upset about needing to take a detour.

Everything looks different in the dark, the glow of neon signs bathing everything in hues of greens and blues and pinks and yellows. Shops and restaurants are mostly shut up for the night, their windows dark or blinds drawn. Dingey motels with pay-by-the-hour rates are in full swing, as are the pubs that have a revolving door of people in varying states of intoxication.

Deep bass that he can feel all the way in his chest catches his attention, and he gets turned around a few times, but he eventually finds the establishment: Bad Wolf Brews. At first, he doesn’t think it’s open, and that he must be mistaken about where the music is coming from, but the heavy front oak door opens, and he realizes the glass on the door is tempered so that the interior lights don’t shine through. The music is clear and heavy and vibrating in his bones. He doesn’t think twice before catching the door before it closes and slipping inside.

The air is humid and smells of sweat and stale beer. Bodies are writhing and gyrating to the rhythm blasting through invisible speakers. The acoustics are phenomenal; none of the layers are lost and the sound quality is nearly as good as if he were listening to the record at home on his own stereo system.

The lights are low, and he’s sure he trips into a few people in the minute it takes for his eyes to adjust to the dimness, but finally, he’s at the bar. There are three open stools, and he claims one between a blonde woman and a red-haired man as he wonders what the hell this dive bar serves. He can see beer taps, but he’s more of a cocktail guy. He must look as lost as he feels, because the bartender hands him a menu that looks like it was hand-written and then photo-copied. It jives with the overall vibe of the pub.

The bartender checks in with him a minute later. James opens a tab and orders a sidecar sans sugar, and is pleasantly surprised by the quality. Not to make assumptions, but he’d figured an establishment such as this would have cheap liquor. If the alcohol in his drink is cheap, it’s well masked.

When he’s drained the last drop and about to signal for another, a hand rests on his shoulder. “Can I buy your next round?”

James looks up into the face of a stranger. It’s a woman with striking green eyes and a disheveled pixie cut. Judging by her crimson cheeks and glazed eyes, she’s three sheets to the wind. There’s buzzed, then there’s drunk, and then there’s plastered. He prefers not to let himself get to that last category, and by extension, he doesn’t really like to associate much with people who won’t remember the night come morning.

“Thanks, but I’m good,” he says with his most charming grin. “G’night.”

He has no idea if the woman knows who he is, but the way she shrugs and saunters to the gentleman sitting beside James, he doubts it.

He gets clumsily propositioned a few more times and always politely declines with a smile. So far, nobody here seems to recognize him and he is going to ride out this anonymity for as long as it’ll last. It has been too long since he’s been able to sit in a pub and drink quietly. Well, quietly, insofar as crazed fans or paparazzi aren’t harassing him—the music is loud enough that he’s sure to have ringing in his ears for a few hours once he gets home.

But he’s not really in any rush to get home, and so he orders his fourth cocktail before making his way to the loo. Alcohol goes right through him, and it’s nearly gotten him in trouble on tour a time or two.

There’s no line, but the loo is crowded, and he tries to ignore the double-takes as he stands in front of a urinal to take care of business. If he wakes up tomorrow morning to find that someone snapped a photo of him having a piss, he’s going to lose his goddamn mind.

Bladder tended to, James keeps his head ducked and shoulders his way back into the bar. His stool is unoccupied, and when he steps forward, he realizes why. A purse sits on it, seemingly reserving the seat but he can’t figure out for whom. He’s about to take the cocktail the bartender hands him and stand against the shadowed wall when someone picks up the purse.

It’s his blonde-haired stool mate. She flashes him a broad grin that lights up her entire face and squeezes something deep in his stomach.

“Saved your seat for ya,” she says with the ease and confidence of someone who’s known him his whole life.

“Thanks,” he manages through a suddenly dry mouth.

Feeling like an idiot for standing and gaping, he slips into his seat and downs half his new sidecar in one go. It’s as though the ice has been broken now, and she turns to him, her elbow on the counter and her cheek propped on her fist.

“Pretty sure you could outdrink a fish, mate,” she drawls, smiling again in that easy way that does too many strange things to his insides. “You’ve been knockin’ ‘em back for over an hour now.”

Has it really been that long? James checks his watch, and yup, it’s half past ten. The paps should be gone from his house by now, but he feels no draw to leave this place. The alcohol has left him pleasantly tipsy and warm, but he’s more drunk on the fantasy that he’s just a normal bloke having a nice night out in a newly-discovered dive bar.

“Fish don’t really drink though, do they? They absorb water through their gills via osmosis,” he replies, and he wants to bite his tongue off because what the fuck was that??

This woman, whatever her name is, doesn’t seem to mind his answer though, because her face scrunches in a giggle. His body is hot and throbbing with more than drink now, and he wants to hear that sound again but his brain has stopped working.

“Is that so different from you absorbin’ alcohol through your bloodstream?” she muses, finishing off whatever is in her short tumbler.

“Can I buy your next round?” he blurts rather than responding to her question, which he’s almost certain was rhetorical.

Her smile melts into something softer, something private and a little shy. “If you’d like.”

“I do.” He flags down the bartender and glances at his new companion expectantly.

“Gin and tonic,” she says. She thanks the bartender, then James when she takes her first sip. “I’m Rose, by the way.”

“James,” he says, feeling stupid because his face is plastered all over London, which likes to boast that it’s the home of international celeb James Noble. But wouldn’t he seem more of an arse if he just assumed this gorgeous woman knew who he was?

Nevertheless, his stomach sinks a bit when she snorts into her drink and says, “I thought it was you.”

“Yup, it’s me,” he forces, his voice flat. He hides his frown with his glass, knocking back the rest of his sidecar like it’s a shot. The room sways slightly with the violent motion of his head, and maybe he’s slightly drunker than he’d thought.

If Rose catches on to his sudden sour mood, she doesn’t mention it. “What brings you here to Bad Wolf?”

He shrugs and blows out a noisy breath. “I dunno. Went for a walk, ended up here.”

“Those are the best sort of adventures.” She hums wistfully. “Sometimes you find what you didn’t know you needed when you let yourself get lost.”

That observation is far too astute for his current state of mind, so instead he says, “Would you like to dance with me?”

Her eyes flicker across his face for a brief moment before she says, “Okay.”

He hops down from his stool, but Rose hesitates, clutching her purse and coat awkwardly. The bartender helpfully tells her to keep them on her stool, and he’ll keep an eye on it. Rose flashes him a grin that James would rather she flash at him, but he realizes that is utterly absurd, so he simply rests his coat on top of her things to better hide them from view. He then holds out his hand for her. Her palm is soft and warm against his as he leads her to the crowded dance floor.

They find space towards the back of the pub, hidden in the shadows of a hallway that states it’s closed off to patrons. And of course, of fucking course, right when he rests his hands on her hips to find the rhythm of the song, a new one comes on, and his own voice belts from the speakers.

“Fucking hell,” he mutters. He loves his music—he made it, after all—but he can’t help but feel pretentious and more than a little silly to dance to it like this.

Rose, however, grins and says, “Oh, come on, this is one of my favorites.”

She catches his hands where he’d loosened them at her waist and forces him to grab hold of her. She’s wearing high-waisted trousers and a top that leaves a sliver of her belly exposed. His thumb grazes the skin of her bare side, and it’s enough to send tingles through his body. Rose, meanwhile, slings her arms around his shoulders and begins to rock her hips from side to side in sync with the bass, embellishing the motions until she looks absolutely ridiculous but so, so beautiful.

He can’t help but grin and laugh, and he mirrors her movements until they’re both dancing like idiots to his music.

“This is how my baby brother dances,” she explains, bouncing up and down while twisting her hips. “We have regular dance parties together.”

“How old’s your brother?” he asks.

“Just turned four.”

He blinks, and blood rushes from his face. “And… and how old are you?”

“A perfectly legal twenty-four,” she drawls, reaching up to flick his nose. “You can start breathing again.”

Thank fuck.

“That’s quite the age gap.”

“My mum got remarried when I was nineteen,” Rose says with a shrug. “She and my stepdad didn’t waste much time.”

“Clearly,” he mutters under his breath.

“It does feel a bit like they’ve started over,” Rose confesses with a too-stiff shrug. “New family, new life, and I’m the interloper.

There is no way this vivacious woman in front of him could ever be considered an interloper, but before he can tell her that, she continues, “Mum does her best to assure me otherwise, but still. It’s hard to watch all the things Mum and Dad are able to do for Tony—that’s my brother, Tony—when Mum struggled so much as a single mum with me.”

“Your dad’s not in the picture?”

A sad smile pinches her face, and he regrets asking.

“No, I never knew him. He died when I was a baby.”

“I… I’m so sorry.” Well, he’s totally buggered this all up, hasn’t he? He wracks his brain on how to salvage the easy banter they’d had at the bar, but draws a blank.

Rose seems to realize they’ve lost the mood, but she breaks out into a lazy grin and says, “Since you seemed so opposed to dancing to your own music, it’ll please you to know a new song’s on. C’mon, show me your moves.”

He’s not going to look a gift horse in the mouth, and so he follows her lead, watching her dance her heart out until her cheeks are pink and her hair is damp with sweat. He’s sure he doesn’t look much better, since he can feel the perspiration beading down his back and beneath his arms, but he can’t bring himself to care. Tonight has been the most fun he’s had in a very long time. Clubbing in New York had been a lark, but he’s been swarmed by his American fans half the night, and had been busy drowning his latest heartbreak to fully enjoy it. But here, now, with Rose, it’s like he’s any other bloke in a pub, chatting up a pretty girl he wants to get to know.

Their bodies are wrapped around each other with the ease and grace of partners who have known each other for years, and he forgets that he has known Rose for all of a few hours. He never wants this night to end. He wants to cling to this fairytale and pretend that the clock isn’t about to strike the proverbial midnight.

But time marches on as always. The clock really does strike midnight, and the bartender begins to clear people out of his establishment. James is as exhausted as he is exhilarated, no longer drunk on booze but rather the company of Rose and the magic they made together by simply dancing the night away.

They head back to the bar to retrieve their coats and her purse, and to close out their tabs. James slides his credit card to the bartender and asks him to charge everyone’s tab to his card. If the bartender is surprised, he hides it well. A few minutes later, James is signing off on the receipt of purchase of several thousand pounds-worth of alcohol. His personal assistant is sure to be confused as hell when she wakes up to see the charge. He fires off a quick warning text to her so she doesn’t open up a fraudulent charge claim.

James salutes the bartender, knowing he’ll come back to this pub as often as he can until he’s found out and this place once again becomes somewhere that’s overrun with his fans.

The night is refreshingly cold when he and Rose emerge into it, a nice change after the stifling, sweaty heat of the bar. However, she hunches her shoulders against the chill, prompting him to wrap his arm around her waist and tug her into his side, all too eager to lend her some of his body heat.

“Can I walk you somewhere?” he asks, glancing around the street that is now full of the drunken patrons who’d been in the pub with them. They all disperse in different directions, stumbling home or to a different bar that is still open. “Or wait with you ‘til you catch a cab?”

“Yeah, sure,” she says, pulling up her phone to order a ride. She taps on the screen for a few quiet moments then says, “Done. Should be here in a few minutes.”

They descend into a slightly awkward silence that James wants to break, but he can’t think of anything clever to say. So he says nothing, and finally headlights wash over them, momentarily blinding them before a taxi pulls up.

“D’you wanna share?” she asks, opening the door to the back seat.

Is she as reluctant to leave him as he is to leave her? Or is she being polite and eco-friendly by ride sharing? Nevertheless, he nods and slides into the back seat beside her.

There is something incredibly intimate about sitting with Rose in the dark interior of the taxi, and he feels like he’s fifteen and wondering how to hold his date’s hand after a cheap night out at the cinemas. He fists his hands together, knotting his fingers until his knuckles pop.

The driver goes to the address Rose provides first, and all too soon they’ve arrived.

“I’ll cover the fare,” he says when she makes to hand over some bank notes to the diver. “It’d be my pleasure.”

She hesitates, but nods, then opens the door to climb out of the car. His pulse quickens as he watches her walk away with nothing but a, “Goodnight.”

“Can you wait just a minute?” he asks the driver.

“Meter’s still runnin’,” he grunts.

“That’s fine.”

James scrambles out of the taxi. “Hey, Rose?”

She turns back to face him, frowning.

“I… er… I had a great time tonight,” he says lamely, but her frown relaxes into a smile. “It was fun. With you. I had fun.”

“Yeah, me too,” she answers.

He licks his lips; his mouth is bone dry and his pulse pounds in his ears, making his vision throb with each frenzied beat.

“Do you… do you maybe wanna do it again some time? Hang out together? I… I’d really like to see you again,” he says, cursing his clumsy, fumbling words.

She scrutinizes him for a long moment, her expression indecipherable. His stomach sinks. Maybe this was a one-off, a story for her to tell her mates.

You’ll never guess who I met at the pub last night. James Noble! He paid for all my drinks and we danced like idiots.

He stews in his misery of doubt, and just when he’s about to tell her to forget about it, she slowly nods.

“Yeah, okay. I’d like that.”

“Really?” he asks, a hopeful edge creeping into his voice.

She laughs. “Really.”

“Brilliant!” James fumbles in his pocket for his phone, and he thrusts it at her. “Give me your number? I’ll text you. Or call.”

He rocks back and forth on his toes and heels, waiting for her to finish up with his phone. He has a sudden, potent bolt of panic that she’s snooping through his private messages or photographs for something to use against him to make a quick profit, but before that panic can take root, she hands his mobile back to him. It’s open to a new texting conversation.

From: 🌹 Bad Wolf Girl 🌹

Now I’ve got your number too 😉

He beams at the name she’s given to herself in his contacts, then he pockets his phone.

“I’ll see you later,” he says.

“You better,” she replies with that knee-weakening smile he’s grown to love over the course of the night. “See ya.”

“Bye.”

He stands there like a moron until she’s safely inside, then he turns back to the taxi and climbs in. The deserted streets streak by as the driver takes him to his neighborhood. He never gives his address though; he always chooses a destination a few streets away, just in case.

James generously tips the driver and bids him goodnight before slipping into the night to his home. He was right: the paparazzi are gone. There is no fanfare as he slips his key into the lock and lets himself into his house. It’s warm and cozy, but still too quiet for his liking.

Between the plane ride and his night out, he feels greasy and disgusting, and indulges in a hot shower before bed. He washes Rose’s scent off of his body, an intoxicating blend of jasmine and vanilla that’s as sweet as it is musky.

He’s groggy by the time he crawls into his giant, king-sized bed and burrows deep into his mounds of pillows and duvets. One of his ex-girlfriends once teased that he turns into the marshmallow man when he sleeps.

His sleep is deep and dreamless, and when he awakes with the sun the following morning, he feels more refreshed and invigorated than he ever remembers being. He’s got a full day of meetings with his songwriting team to brainstorm his next album, and he is ready.

But first, he checks his phone. There’s nothing from Rose, which makes him a little sad, but also nothing from his publicist, which is always a good sign. If ever she messages or calls him first thing in the morning, it always means there’s some sort of dumpster fire to put out. Usually a dumpster fire full of compromising photos of him.

He makes a point of not Googling himself, but he does occasionally check his social media pages for new posts about him, wanting to know when, where, and how his fans came across him in the wild. He easily finds the photo that he took with the group of teenage girls, and makes a point to like the original post and type a quick, “Nice to meet you all. Thanks for chatting with me last night - J” in the comments section. He snorts to himself as his comment blows up within seconds.

But other than some grainy photos of him riding the bus, he can’t find any other photos of himself. Nothing of him wandering the streets or drinking in the pub or even having a wee in the mens’ room. And best of all, there’s nothing of him and Rose. No photos of them dancing together or sharing a cab. If Rose has a social media account, it didn’t post any sneaky photos or bragging stories about dancing all night with James Noble.

He can’t quite believe it; he managed to have a fun night out drinking without it all being thrown back in his face the next morning. Within seconds, he’s grinning to himself and pulling up Rose’s contact information. It’s still in his phone, further proof that his night with her wasn’t some sort of jetlagged fever dream. She was real.

“Good morning. I hope you slept well. Thanks for last night.”

She responds almost instantly. Good morning to you too. I should be thanking you for paying my drink tab and taxi fare 😉 And for being an excellent dance partner.

“The pleasure was all mine, on all counts.” He sends that message, then types out a new one, “I’m gonna be in meetings all day (yes, I know it’s Sunday), so please don’t be discouraged if I don’t reply. But I’d really like to see you again. Want to do dinner or drinks or coffee or something?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer, needing to make himself presentable for when his driver picks him up in an hour. Yet he can’t help but check his phone every three seconds, until finally there’s a message from Rose.

Yeah, I’d like that. I work ‘til five most nights, but I’m free after that. Or we can wait ‘til the weekend.

With spirits lighter than they’ve been in months, James steps out of his house with a broad, stupid grin that the ever-present crowd of paparazzi are all too happy to photograph.

#ficandchips #dwfic #doctorroseprompts #doctor who #ten x rose #ten x rose au #james x rose #yet another iteration of james and rose lmao #romance #meet cute #light angst #musician au #my fic #sacred new beginnings

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franeridart · 4 years ago

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Anon said: i love love love LOVE how you just draw gojo leaning onto getou, hiding his face in getou's neck or back or chest <////3 im just so heartbroken over those two

So glad to hear you like him clingy as much as I do!! TT^TT as far as I’m concerned he wasn’t clingy enough in canon, so I’m fixing it as much as I can with every new doodle haha

Anon said: whenever im sad i just come to your account and look through your art :")) it brings me so much comfort :')) also i gotta mention that the teacher getou art you've made has healed my broken heart bc of jjk and now that is the only canon i accept thank you very much gege akutami has nothing on me

GAH GETO-SENSEI MY ONE AND ONLY I’m happy he makes you as soft as he does me, he’s such a comfort to me ;;;; and thank you for liking my stuff!!!! Means the world to me to hear it ;A; <3

Anon said: I miss your krbk sm 😔 No pressure intended!!!!!! I still love and support u and ur art!!!

Man I miss them too!!!!! @ hori when are you bringing my loves back from the war I’m here waiting good sir!!!

Anon said: v v curious on your thoughts on what’s currently going on in bnha manga :)))

HMMM what are my thoughts on it? Well, let’s split it in two: Deku’s side and Todoroki’s side, because that’s how it’s split in my brain atm, and allow me to start from the second because it’s easier to get through for me

I’m in love with everything Hori is doing with Todoroki and everyone involved with him - that’s to say his whole whole family and Hawks and Jeanist too, all of it, I’m so into it it’s no joke at all. Always been in love with how he handles Enji’s character and his interactions with his family and the latest developments didn’t disappoint me at all, wasn’t very much into Dabi right after the “reveal” but the more I think about it and about the story from his pov the more behind it I am, forever and always head over heels for Shouto’s way of dealing with a situation that’s as complex as one would expect from a protagonist of their very own story you could really make a manga out of the Todoroki’s family plot from Shouto’s pov alone, it’s incredible I can’t state how in love with it all I am enough. And Hawks, don’t make me start on him I’ll straight up never stop, absolutely and most definitely my favorite pro-hero I would trust him with my money and my kids 100/10 just assume I’m constantly crying over him. Also Jeanist is just hilarious so bless him and his presence in an otherwise too heavy story

Deku’s side........ well, the main problems I have with it are that one, I don’t really understant the need to keep ofa a secret from the class for the biggest part of the story when the reveal wasn’t forced upon Deku, didn’t have a huge impact on him or his relationship with the others (his leaving wasn’t directly caused by him coming clean after all, he wouldn’t have had to leave earlier had he not kept it a secret and he would have still left at this point had the class already known all along) and didn’t, like. Matter. All that much. Two, this manga is called my hero academia and I’m genuinely starting to wonder why. What was the point of all the arcs set inside the school anyway? Most of the characters growth (Deku’s especially) and the progression of the main plot happened in the arcs outside of the school anyway, and at this point it’s clear we’re not going back to the school after this or even seeing anyone graduate. What of Shinsou? What was the point of his plot when we’re not even gonna see him being active part of the class in a school environment? I’m just confused about it all, I guess. Three, which is really my biggest problem with it all, is the way Deku’s set on saving Shigaraki. It’s not like I don’t like a story in which all the villains are saved and the good guys win and love prevails and all that, call it corny but they’re exactly my type of stories, but I’m not sure I can get behind it when Twice died like that, and Midnight did as well, and Aizawa lost a leg, and Nighteye died, and Hawks might have lost his wings, and Shirakumo ended up Kurogiri and it’s still unclear whether he can be saved, like... why does Shigaraki get to be saved when so many people suffered like that? And it’s not only about them suffering by his hands, it’s about Hori and how he was ruthless with so many characters but lets the story show arbitrary kindness to Shigaraki alone, it’s all... well. Unfair. The way I see it. At this point I at the very least expect kindness for Touya as well, here.

That said if I pick the chapters one by one by themselves I do enjoy them very much. I just don’t gotta think about the big picture lmao AH but it’s all a personal opinion, of course! I know people who enjoy the way the story is going and I can see where they’re coming from, this is all arbitrary tastes and preferences on my part, I’m aware of it!

Anon said: Hi hi! I finally got into jjk AND finally caught up on the manga and i appreciate your doods soooo much more now!! They’re so great!! But imcurious, is there one specific moment in the story where you Gojo and Geto became IT for you? Just genuinely curious!!

THANK YOU happy to hear you liked jjk!!!! And that’s!!! a great question, I’m not sure I have an answer actually? I binged the manga in a day and a half, you see, and when I binge stuff that fast I rarely stop to overthink things - I did ship them as I read too since, well. They’re in love lmao but I shipped them in the same way I shipped itafushi or yuutoge after I read the prequel, you know? Just a general aknowledging of how good they were together. The main point with satosugu specifically was probably that satoru has been my favorite character since the beginning of the story and suguru got there as well as soon as I read their backstory, so once I was caught up they’re the ones I ended up spending the most time thinking about, both by themselves and together, and that ended up making me a bit obsessed..... just a bit lol

If I had to give one specific moment that got me by the heart and squeezed the hardest it’d be... probably Satoru’s “my soul knows otherwise”. And the way his voice alone could bring Suguru back, even for just a single moment. The thing about satosugu for me!!! one of the many things about them, but the main thing for me, is that they love each other. Be it platonic or however you wanna see it, they love each other. Despite everything and after it all, even if Satoru had to kill Suguru, even if Suguru killed so many and betrayed Satoru and they went their separate ways in the harshest of ways, they love each other. It’s insane, isn’t it? That they’d love each other so much they could pass over everything and anything. I’ve seen the “best friends become enemies” trope so often in shounen manga, but this is the first time I see it treated like this - with love so strong that they never blamed each other or turned that love in hate. The way satosugu do it is all-encompassing! It goes beyond the world and their differences and death itself! So if I had to pick it’d be that one, because that scene happens after it’s all over, and it all went to shit and way beyond too already, and still their souls resonate with each other and answer to each other and that sends me insane, just thinking about it. Like, god, they really still love each other. Satoru’s mourned for Suguru for a year, Suguru’s been dead for a year, they’d been separated ten whole years before then, and still! And still!!! It’s so tender I don’t know how to deal with it

Anon said: “What’s a god to a nonbeliever?”—That tag is going to haunt me for a while. The entire tag section for your latest Gojo and Geto drawing is meta-worthy.

THANK YOU it’d been eating at my brain I had to write it down somewhere why are those two like that

Anon said: Do you take commissions? No pressure! ✨❤️

Not right now!

Anon said: How do you feel about sukuna ? like/dislike or thoughts on him

AMAZING QUESTION I love him. I have absolutely zero clue as of why so don’t ask me to elaborate, I’m literally that marge pic with the potato when it’s about Sukuna, I have no meta thoughts about him nor deep reasonings behind it - by all accounts, I should dislike him! But he shows up and I’m like nghhh king, so that’s where we stand. It’s Sukuna, you know. I just think he’s neat.

Anon said: sighs time to get into another fandom bc i simp too hard for ur art 😔

HAH thank you for the trust I hope you’ll like ror if you do get into it!!! hahaha

#fran answers #oh two of these are Long #.....#long post #in case the readmore doesn't work for whatever reason

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sencire · 3 years ago

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To turn a blank page

“I don’t do cuddles in the morning” – that is all Lexa is prepared to give her latest conquest before bailing. But there's something about this blonde that tells her it won't be so easy this time.

Featuring failed womanizer Lexa with a lot of baggage and Clarke with very little baggage ...

Chapter 1

Read on ao3 instead

The tickle of sunlight on the tip of her nose wakes her. Lexa wiggles her nose but the tickle doesn’t go away. Cracking one eye open, she finds it way too bright and turns onto her stomach, rubbing her nose into the pillow. The soft fabric smells clean but unfamiliar. She groans, her limbs too heavy to move yet. Carefully, she opens the other eye. The covers are a plain, somewhat sterile white. The kind you find in a hotel room.

Another tired groan escapes her, a little louder this time, and she pulls at the sheets to hide under them. Blurred images flash before her closed eyes. She has no idea how late it is but her body tells her it wants to stay underneath the cozy blankets a little longer. Just a few minutes, then she’ll get going.

“Hey, leave some for me!”

Lexa’s eyes fly open at the sound of the sleepy voice. The mattress tilts slightly, then an arm slides around her and a warm body snuggles up to her back.

Oh.

Right.

The hot blonde. Carol. Claire. Carly? Shit. Lexa can’t remember. Her tired mind manages to piece a few fragments together though.

She had picked a club with good music last night and not too many people and had planned on letting the thumping base mute out all other sounds in her head. She had been enjoying herself. Trying to flirt with the cute barkeeper and actually aiming to go home with her.

But before she could make a real move, she had been distracted by a loud female voice. Amazed at how anyone’s voice could carry above the music, Lexa had turned to see what the commotion was about. She saw a blonde woman arguing with a guy. Lexa slid off her chair right away. It hadn’t looked like the blonde needed help though. She moved into the guy’s space to get him to back off. Probably some idiot who didn’t understand what ‘no’ meant. Staggering backwards, he held out his hands as if to apologize and at the same time hold off an attack. It made Lexa chuckle. Clearly, the blonde was winning. She climbed back into her chair and resumed trying to catch the barkeeper’s attention but found her chatting to another customer at the other end of the bar.

She had almost forgotten about the incident again when a little while later someone bumped rather roughly into her. Lexa was about to tell the person off when she noticed it was the blonde fury from before, leaning onto the bar with a huff. Lexa nodded at her with a wink.

It was like the sun smiled back at her. Lexa was instantly mesmerized and she felt a broad smile tug at her lips as a response. The barkeeper was forgotten. She liked how the blonde’s blue eyes widened as they took in her face. Lexa knew about her effect on women, it always worked in her favor. So then she had turned her attention fully to her new challenge – only to find that the doors were already wide open.

“So, I see you can stand up for yourself.”

The woman looked at her from underneath her make-up heavy lashes, giving her another bright smile. She looked like an angel and Lexa was unable to tear her eyes away from her. Something about the way her gaze never seemed to falter when Lexa looked into her eyes. When the woman finally spoke, her voice was low and very telling.

“You noticed. And I noticed you.”

A drink later, Lexa hadn’t been all that surprised at the feeling of a hand on her thigh, moving up slowly, spreading warmth right into Lexa’s core. The deep gazes and the rosy tongue darting out to run along very kissable lips. And that low cut shirt and its contents. A low growl crawling up Lexa’s throat in approval. It had been instant and mutual. So it hadn’t taken them long to make up their minds and leave. Stumbling through the night, giggling, kissing (yeah, she remembers that well), making out in the elevator on the ride up, fumbling with the key card in the lock and … well … waking up in a hotel room.

Way to go, Lexa, she scolds herself. Aren’t you getting too old for this? Her mouth feels like she has chewed on a dirty rag. She untangles her legs from the sheets, sticking out her knee to hold her position. She moves her tongue inside her mouth to unstick it from her gums.

The hand on her stomach slowly moves up to her chest and stops there, growing limp. Lexa realizes she’s not wearing a shirt. She’s not wearing anything at all.

Right. She frantically tries to jumpstart her brain. This is fine. It’s not the first time she has woken up next to a stranger. Lexa rubs her eyes, taking a few deep breaths. And turns around slowly.

The first thing she notices is the mop of wavy blonde hair sticking out from underneath the covers. A careful tug at the white sheets reveals a smooth forehead, then a set of eyes, closed with remains of kohl, a very cute nose and, oh, those lips. Lexa looks at them for a moment, her eyes being drawn to the small beauty mark just above upper lip. This is a very pretty girl. At least her taste is still impeccable.

“Hello, gorgeous.” The same husky voice she had last night, only now it’s also heavy from sleep. And now the woman’s blue eyes are fixed on Lexa while her lips curl into a smirk.

“Cat got your tongue?” A hand comes up from underneath the covers and reaches for Lexa. Before the blonde’s fingertips can touch her, Lexa snaps her head back and grabs the hand. She makes an effort not to grab too tightly. She just needs to hold it away from her face.

“I need to get going.”

She throws off the covers and rolls out of bed. Her clothes are scattered all across the floor around the bed. She starts looking for her underwear.

“So this is … what … fuck and leave?”

Lexa stops walking around for a moment to look at the woman who is shifting to sit up against the headrest.

“I’m sorry, I don’t do cuddles in the morning.”

The blonde raises her eyebrows, then lets out a humorless laugh.

“I wasn’t going to marry you so there’s no need to treat me like I have an infectious disease all of sudden. You could still be nice. We had a nice time, didn’t we?”

Lexa inhales deeply and takes her time to exhale, sitting down on the bed to put on her socks. She hangs her head and nods. Ah, there are her panties sticking out from under the sheets at the foot end. She pulls them out and wriggles into them.

“I’m sorry, you’re right. I just … I don’t like getting too close.”

The other woman studies her for a moment, pursing her lips. “That’s not the impression I got last night. You were pretty desperate to get really close.”

“Look,” Lexa pauses, still unable to remember the name and decides to take a chance because the situation is ruined anyway, “Claire, I need to get going. I had a really nice time with you, thank you for that, but I have to go.”

She gets up and reaches for the pair of jeans sitting on the armchair by the window. She peaks outside, squinting at the sun that seems to be up too high already.

“Clarke.”

“Huh?”

“Name’s Clarke. And you’re welcome. Lexa.” Her voice is cold as ice, her blue eyes shooting arrows.

“Or maybe I should just call you asshole.”

That actually hurts. Lexa pulls on the jeans, almost losing her balance when her foot gets stuck. But when she closes the button, there’s too much room. This pair of jeans is for hips wider than hers. She pulls them off again and finds another pair on the floor on Clarke’s side of the bed. Those must be hers. She reaches down to pick them up and spots her black t-shirt crumbled between the bed and the bedside table.

She pulls it out and flaps it to remove the worst creases but doesn’t put it on yet. She’s pretty sure she also wore a bra. But she can’t see it anywhere.

Clarke has propped herself up on her elbow, quietly watching her get dressed. Now she purses her lips, letting her eyes wander across Lexa’s bare upper body.

“You really are hot,” she says with an approving click of her tongue. “Sure you don’t want to stay? It might help you to remember my name if you’d repeat it a few times. Preferably while you’re coming.”

Lexa’s face turns a bright red and she drops her head to hide a grin. What kind of a woman has she picked up there?

“I can’t.”

“Got to be somewhere? It’s Sunday.”

“Clarke –“

“Alright, I got it. Mystery woman.”

Lexa pulls the shirt over her head. She has no idea where her bra is and this is getting weird.

“Didn’t you forget something?”

Lexa turns her head to find her bra dangling from Clarke’s index finger. She crooks her finger and it drops onto the mattress.

“Found it under my pillow. Not mine.”

“Ah, great, thanks.” Lexa leans down to take the bra. She twists it in her hands and then decides to sit down on the bed. When she looks at Clarke again, a blank face meets her. Searching eyes are scanning her face. She knows that look. She’s seen it before. Every time she gets caught before she can make an escape while they’re still asleep. Clarke is wondering what went wrong and can’t decide whether she wants to be angry or disappointed. She’s probably both.

“Clarke,” Lexa starts, trying a smile. “I’m really sorry. You seem like a nice girl.”

“Oh, do I?”

“Yes. And if we had met under different circumstances, I would stay.”

“Oh, would you?”

“Yes!”

Would she really?

“No, I wouldn’t. I just don’t do close. Although you are tempting,” Lexa adds, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

Clarke sits up higher and with her abrupt movement, the sheets slide down. Lexa’s eyes drop onto the full breast that is revealed before she can stop them. When Clarke notices, she pulls the sheets up again to cover herself, hiding a grin.

“You don’t get to see that anymore. You know, you were polite and gentle last night, I really thought you were different.”

“You don’t know me. Maybe I am just an asshole.”

Lexa squirms a little under the scrutinizing look that Clarke gives her. She narrows her eyes and keeps them fixed on Lexa’s face. Lexa can almost hear an electric fizzle in the air between them. The same that had been there last night.

“No, I don’t think you are. Come here.” Clarke holds out her hand. “I’m not going to let you go like that.”

Lexa wonders why she doesn’t just go. What’s the point in prolonging this awkward situation? It’s just impossible to tear herself away though. There’s something about Clarke that makes her want to crawl back into bed and go back to sleep in her arms. Like last night, when one smile had made her feel like she could trust her.

She looks at Clarke again now, her outstretched hand within reach and decides to take it. Clarke pulls gently and Lexa suddenly doesn’t want to fight it anymore. She leans in, allowing herself to sink against Clarke’s lips and into the softest of kisses. It makes Lexa’s heart ache. She whimpers quietly which encourages Clarke to wrap her arms around her and without thinking Lexa snuggles closer. If Clarke is surprised, she doesn’t show it. Instead, she starts to gently run her fingers through Lexa’s hair.

“That’s enough now, I don’t do cuddling, remember?”

“Mhm, I know,” Clarke whispers and kisses her forehead. “Shame though, I’m the best cuddler.”

Oh, this is … she needs to get going. Lexa pushes herself up and feels Clarke’s arms slide away.

Lexa gets up and pushes her cell phone into her pocket, crumpling a few loose bills in the process. She crosses the room towards the door and puts her hand on the doorknob. Pretending to study the escape plan that hangs there, she closes her eyes briefly, still feeling the softness of Clarke’s lips on her skin. What is happening here? She straightens up and opens the door.

“I’m really sorry. Don’t think too badly of me.”

“I won’t, tiger.”

Lexa stops in the doorway to look back over her shoulder.

“Goodbye, Clarke, it was a pleasure meeting you.”

It’s a lame joke but it’s all Lexa can think of. She steps out and pulls the door shut behind her to Clarke’s hearty laugh. Her shoulders sag and she takes a couple of hesitant steps down the corridor. This just doesn’t feel right. She never feels regret like this when she leaves her one night stands. Digging around in her pocket, she pulls out a box of mints and pops one in her mouth. She wishes she had been able to take a shower and brush her teeth but that can’t be changed now.

When she reaches the elevator, she hesitates again before pushing the button. Part of her wants to go back. The other wants to run. The elevator announces its arrival and the doors slide open. Relieved to see that there’s nobody else inside, she enters and pushes the button for the lobby. Waiting for the doors to close, she looks back down the corridor, still wondering what it is about this woman that makes her heart so heavy.

Her phone vibrates in her back pocket and she pulls it out. She has a new message from an unknown number.

“I think I like you, tiger.”

Continue with chapter 2 on ao3

#clexa fic #clexa fanfiction #clexa #my fic

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tchallasbabymama · 4 years ago

Text

M’Baku’s Love- Chapter 6

Here’s the next chapter of M’Baku’s Love. Check out my masterlist HERE to catch up and read my other stories. Let me know what you think or if you want to be tagged. Hope y’all enjoy!

Word count: ~6100

When M’Baku picked Niecey up for their date, the first thing they both noticed was that his dark brown tuxedo with gorilla fur sash clashed with Neicey’s low-cut black sequin dress. The two of them obviously hadn’t discussed what they were wearing and it showed, which irritated Niecey to no end. M’Baku really couldn’t care less, but she was seriously upset about how they’d look together in pictures.

“You couldn’t find a black tux?” she asked him just before they walked in after seething in the car the whole twenty minute ride over.

“I had plenty of options, but I wore this because it reminded me of formal Jabari attire.” he fought to keep his eyes from rolling.

“Ugh fine, hopefully we won’t look too bad. Come on.” she walked ahead of him as he handed the valet his keys and they entered the gala. People mingled about, eating and drinking and no doubt opening their pocketbooks. Even the dance floor had a decent amount of people swaying to the jazz music coming from the live band.

However, nothing could have prepared M’Baku for how beautiful Monae looked that night. She happened to be looking towards the door at the moment he walked in and their eyes met from across the room. She had paired a spaghetti strap bronze silk gown with a split up her left thigh with strappy nude heels that made it look like she was walking on her tiptoes all night and her favorite delicate gold drop earrings that dusted her collarbone. They held each other’s gaze for a little too long, and both of their dates noticed but chose not to say anything.

M’Baku and Neicey made their way through the crowd, stopping periodically to speak to their colleagues. She tried to avoid Monae by ignoring that side of the room entirely, but M’Baku eventually steered them right in her direction.

“Monae, Darrin. How are you two this evening?” he asked as they approached the couple.

“It’s actually Derrick-”

“Oh, my apologies.”

Monae fought to keep a laugh in.

“I’m Neicey,” she inserted herself in the conversation with an attitude that rubbed both Monae and M’Baku the wrong way.

“Nice to meet you Neicey,” Derrick responded before taking a sip of his champagne.

“Thank you... Derrick, was it?”

“That’s me. So do you work here with these two?”

“I do, but we’re in different departments. Although I guess M’Baku doesn't really have a department,” she laughed and Derrick was the only one that joined her. The two of them continued to get acquainted while M’Baku and Monae tried to avoid each other's gaze. However They were unsuccessful and ended up locking eyes across Derrick and Neicey’s conversation, but when Derrick looked up to bring in M’Baku he saw the look of adoration on the man’s face as he stared longingly at Monae. Derrick couldn’t believe this man was so bold as to stare at his fiancee like that right in front of him..

“Hey man, so I hear you’re only in town for a short while. When are you leaving?” Derrick asked with a certain gruffness in his voice.

“Derrick, don’t be rude,” Monae whispered to him, shooting an apologetic smile M’Baku’s way. Derrick brushed her off and continued his line of questioning.

“I’m just curious. When are you going back to Wakanda?”

“I will be here two more months,” M’Baku stood tall. “And you?” He threw back.

“We’ll be moving in a couple weeks actually,” he looked down at Monae as her jaw clenched. “Monae’s still not happy about it though, are you Momo?”

She gave him a forced smile, “We don’t need to talk about that right now, let’s just have a good time.”

“There you are! Damn, y’all clean up nice.” N’Jadaka said as he and T’Challa made their way over to greet M’Baku and company. Both Udakus had on black tuxes with silk scarves draped over their left shoulders, the prince’s a shiny gold and the king’s a bold purple.

“Thanks, so do you two,” Neicey responded.

“I wouldn’t be brave enough to rock a scarf like that.” Derrick added.

“Yes, well you-“

“Look nice in your tux,” T’Challa cut off M’Baku, shooting him a look. “Actually Derrick we were wondering if you would give us some, uh, legal advice. We have a few questions about opening a pro-Bono legal clinic.”

“That’s not my specialty, but sure.”

“Fantastic!. We need you to meet some people. Monae do you mind if we steal him away from you?”

“By all means…”

The three men walked away as M’Baku caught Shuri’s eye across the room. She and Nakia were slowly making their way over to them, but kept being stopped and roped into conversations with various prospective donors.

“So, Monae. Where are you moving to?” Neicey asked, hoping it was somewhere far, far away.

“That’s a complicated answer right now-“

“So you’re staying?”

“Like I said, it's complicated,” she deadpanned and grabbed another flute of champagne from a passing waiter, placing her empty one back on the tray.

“I guess.” she shrugged before turning back to her date. “M’Baku let’s get a real drink from the bar, not this bubbly mess.” She tried to pull him towards the bar, but he didn’t budge.

“Monae, would you like to join us? I do not want to just leave you here all alone,” he offered as Shuri and Nakia came up behind him.

“Thank you, but I’ll let the two of you spend some time together,” she said with a sarcastic tone that only M’Baku picked up on. “Besides, these gorgeous ladies just showed up to keep me company.” She gestured to the royalty in their presence and M’Baku turned around to greet them.

“My Queen, Princess, you both look lovely this evening.”

Nakia wore a floor-length eggplant gown with a sweetheart neckline with matching opera gloves and emerald jewelry. Shuri surprisingly had on heels with her black jumpsuit that was covered in gold embroidery. They both looked regal, even more so than usual.

“Thanks, you don’t look too bad yourself. And Monae, this bronze is stunning! Did you two come together?” Shuri asked, accidentally stirring the pot. M’Baku could feel Neicey seething on the other side of him.

“No, we did,” she said as she grabbed onto his arm.

“Oh I’m sorry, I just thought with the outfits- nevermind. I love the sequins.”

“Thank you.”

An awkward silence followed, but Nakia broke it before it could go on too long.

“How has your class been going? I hear great things from the kids,” Nakia asked, declining a flute of champagne from a passing waiter.

“Oh they’re a dream to work with. Have you seen their latest project? Last week I taught them about revisionist history and they’ve been researching real historical facts and performing skits based around their subject. You have to come by and see it. They’re so good!”

“I’ll stop by on Monday for sure,” Nakia responded. “Since your class is so popular I’d love it if you could come with me to talk to some of our donors.”

“Sure but M’Ba-“

“He’ll be fine. Plus I think the Princess needs him for something anyway.” Nakia led her away from her date and over to the only group of rich Black folks in the room.

Shuri turned to wink at M’Baku and tried to slip away before Monae could notice her escape since she had turned to talk to one of her art teachers and his wife, but Monae caught her at the last second..

“So, princess, quick question-“

“Princess? You know I’m just Shuri to you, Monae.”

“Not when you look like that you’re not. Did she say yes?”

“Yes! She’s right over there mingling with some of the other tech nerds,” she pointed to a short, shapely, bald girl in a jumpsuit just like Shuri’s. “Her name is Tae. Isn’t she just the cutest?”

“Absolutely adorable,” M’Baku smiled at his friend, happy she had finally been able to make a move.

“Well, I should go mingle some more. I’ll catch you two later! Again, love the matching outfits,” Shuri said as she skirted away. She picked up a champagne flute, but before she could even bring it to her lips, her brother came out of nowhere and snatched it from her grasp.

“You’re too young.”

“Oh come on, I can drink at home!”

“This isn’t Wakanda, and you’re not 21. We have to present a good image for the donors-“

“We don’t even need donors, we have more than enough money to fund the center.”

“Yes, but people want to have a say in what goes on in their communities and rich people like to throw money around. Who am I to deny them that right?”

“You just like taking colonizer’s money,” she whispered to him and he responded with a wink before sipping from the confiscated champagne flute.

“You’re starting to get it.” He walked away with a smug look on his face to find his wife in the crowd. Shuri rolled her eyes and went to go keep Tae company.

Meanwhile, Monae and M’Baku finally got a moment alone.

“You look absolutely beautiful tonight. This dress is very distracting.”

“Thank you. You know, sometimes I forget you’re a chief but right now you really do look like royalty. Hell, all you Wakandans do.”

“You say that as though you do not look like a queen yourself.”

Monae blushed and he held out his arm towards her.

“Want a real drink?”

“God, yes.”

He laughed and led her to the open bar, ordering them both whiskey, his neat and hers on ice.

“How did you know I was a whiskey girl?”

“I did my research on your home, too. I figured Jack Daniels was a safe bet.”

“And the ice?”

“You ask for extra ice on everything, so I just assumed-“

“Correctly.”

They smiled at each other and continued flirting back and forth by the bar until they caught the eye of a jealous lover. Derrick stormed over to the bar and stood between them.

“Are you having fun?” he asked Monae, back turned to M’Baku.

“Derrick stop being rude, we were in the middle of a conversation-“

“Yeah I saw. I’m ready to get out of here, let’s go.”

“We haven’t been here that long-“

“I said let’s go.”

M’Baku didn’t like the tone of voice he used when speaking to her, so he stepped in, squaring up with Derrick

“I think the lady-“

“Did I ask you?” he raised his voice as he turned to face the chief. “No, I didn’t. Monae, let’s- fuck, where’d she go?” When turned back around she was gone.

“I will go find her.”

“Nah big man, you’ve done enough. I’ll go find my girl.” And with that, he was off, leaving M’Baku at the bar alone. He threw back his drink right as N’Jadaka approached.

“Yo what’s up with you?”

“I am going to kill him.”

“Who, Demarcus?”

“Yes. He is too controlling of her.”

“Well it’s not like you’ll have to deal with him much longer.” The prince said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Hey where’d your date disappear to?”

M’Baku shrugged and N’Jadaka chuckled before something caught his eye.

“There’s your girl.” He nodded towards the entryway, and M’Baku turned around to see Monae and Derrick having what looked to be a very quiet heated argument. As luck would have it, Neicey reappeared at that moment.

“Hey cutie, miss me?” She clung to his arm and he felt his blood pressure rise. She noticed the tension in his shoulders. “What’s up with you?”

“Monae’s fiance is being a dick,” N’Jadaka answered for him, prompting Neicey to roll her eyes.

“Again with all the Monae talk? I’m so tired of hearing about that bitch-”

M’Baku’s head had never turned so fast, and N’Jadaka was seriously concerned for Neicey’s safety for a moment.

“What did you just call her?” M’Baku asked for clarification, making sure he heard her right.

“How about we all chill out. Neicey, wanna dance?”

“Sure, why not. It’s not like he was gonna ask me anyway.”

N’Jadaka gave M’Baku a look that told him to relax before escorting Neicey to the dance floor.

M’Baku looked back up to find Monae and she was nowhere in sight, so he made his way towards the doors to see if she had maybe gone outside for some air. She hadn’t, they had just gone around the corner to argue in peace. Yet again, he caught the tail end of their disagreement.

“You never want to support anything I do, Derrick. I’m tired of it.”

“Well I’m tired of you flirting with that chief guy.”

“That ‘chief guy’ has a name-”

“Do I look like I care? Look, we’re leaving for LA in two weeks. Do you think you can keep your legs closed until then?”

Monae was stunned, mostly because she had no comeback. She had already opened her legs for M’Baku, but Derrick didn’t know that. Thankfully he took her shock for offense and tried to backtrack.

“I didn’t mean it to sound that way-”

“Yes you did.”

“Monae, I-”

“No. Derrick I’m tired of doing this back and forth. You don’t respect me and you never have. I can’t keep doing this-”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying we’re done, Derrick. You can go to LA and be this big, successful entertainment lawyer all you want now. I’m done.” She took the ring off her finger and handed it back to him.

She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him, waiting for a response.

“You think you can live the life I could provide for you on your teacher’s salary?” his voice was low and full of rage.

“Oh honey, I make way more than the average teacher. They actually pay us here, so I’ll be fine. You’re not needed.”

He was fuming.

“Fine! Don’t come crawling back to me when he leaves you behind.”

And with that, Derrick turned and left the gala.

M’Baku wasn’t sure of what to do, should he go to her or give her space? He heard her sniffles and quickly made up his mind.

“Monae-”

“What?!” she yelled before she could register the voice that was speaking to her since she kept her back towards the door so nobody would see her tears.

“Monae, I am sorry.”

She broke down upon really hearing his voice.

“It’s not your fault, it was bound to happen anyway. It’s just hard to let go of so many years, you know?”

“I understand, I have been there. I am still sorry for my part in this and how it led to hurting you.”

“You’ve been here before?”

“Yes, she broke my heart so I had to let her go, but the situation was very different. Can I get you anything?”

She smiled through her tears at his attempt to be helpful.

“No I just need to clean up, and get back out there.” she pointed to the restrooms. He waited for her while she went in to dry her tears and fix her makeup. As he did, he caught sight of N’Jadaka and Neicey sneaking out together and let out a chuckle. At least that situation was taken care of, now he could focus all his energy on Monae.

When she emerged her makeup was once again flawless and M’Baku couldn’t help but stare at her beauty.

“What? Did I miss a spot?” she panicked

“No, just taking it all in,” he said with a whimsical smile on his face.

She blushed and reached to grab his arm before stopping herself.

“Where’s Neicey? I don’t want her chomping my damn head off for being within a 5 foot radius of you.”

M’Baku laughed. “Oh, she will not be a problem anymore, I just saw N’Jadaka take her home for the night.”

“Of course he did,” Monae wrapped her arm around M’Baku’s large bicep. He led her back into the gala just as T’Challa was finishing up his speech.

“-and to the donors, we raise our glasses to you for your continued support and interest in bettering the community. We couldn’t do this without you.”

Shuri scoffed and Nakia fought to hide a smile, nudging her sister-in-law to keep her quiet.

“Please, continue to utilize our open bar and try some of the hors d'oeuvres our wonderful wait staff are carrying around the room. Enjoy your night, and we appreciate your generosity.” Nakia added.

Everyone clapped as the three royals exited the stage.

“Where the hell is N’Jadaka?” T’Challa asked M’Baku when he made his way over.

“Oh he’s busy with Neicey.”

“N- ohhh. That’s great!” he noticed Monae's confused face and dialed it back a little. “I mean, good for him.”

Monae could tell something was up, but she’d get it out of M’Baku later.

“Nice speech, T. I can already see the money rolling in. You know, rich white folks love easing their guilty consciences.”

“Thank you, Monae. The more they give us, the less we have to put up, and the more centers we can open and do the same thing all over again.” T’Challa said softly through a fake smile as some of those rich white people walked within earshot of the conversation.

“Have you looked at other locations?”

“We have, it is difficult to narrow down cities. We want to stay in the US for now, but eventually we could become global.”

“You should look into Nashville. It’s crawling with gentrifiers, and North Nashville has one of the highest incarceration rates in the country. For Black folks, of course.”

“Really? I was unaware of that. North Nashville, you say... I am assuming that is a Black neighborhood?”

“Not for much longer,” she said with a deep sadness in her face that the king took note of. “But an Outreach Center could really help the community.”

“I will keep that in mind, thank you. So….” The king looked on expectantly.

“Sooo…?” Monae asked back before he gestured to the two of them. She playfully rolled her eyes. “I don’t know what you mean.”

M’Baku chuckled at both of their antics.

“I’m sure you don’t…” T’Challa said as he walked away to go mingle with the crowd some more.

“How long do these things usually last?” M’Baku leaned down and said with his lips grazing her ear.

“I don't know, this is my first gala. Why, tired of it already?”

“Honestly, yes. I would much rather be on my couch right about now, the collars on these button up shirts are extremely uncomfortable.”

“Let’s go then. I’m not in the mood to deal with people, and that couch sounds real good right about now.”

-------

Had she been thinking, Monae would’ve run home real quick to change, but there she was barefoot in an evening gown in M’Baku’s kitchen going through his fridge to find something to eat.

“We should order in, those hors d'oeuvres weren’t enough.”

“What do you have a taste for?” M’Baku rounded the corner in grey sweatpants and a black tank and it took everything in Monae to not jump him right then and there.

“Honestly? You, but I’m also not in the mood. You can’t just walk around looking like that, it’s not fair.”

He cornered her against the counter, arms on either side of her.

“And you walking around here in this gown is unfair to me, yet here you are.” he looked down at her erect nipples, stiff from the chill of his loft. He had turned the thermostat up to 70 for her, but that was as high as he was willing to go.

He kissed her forehead and backed up, trying not to stare too hard at her heaving chest.

“M’Baku, I might need some time. I’m still kind of in a weird headspace right now and-”

“I understand, which is why I have a surprise for you.”

Her face lit up like a kid at Christmas. “What is it?”

“You will have to come over here to find out.” He said with a chuckle, walking towards the living area and plopping on the couch. She joined him shortly after and he picked up the remote. When he pressed play tears came to her eyes as she heard the twinkling sounds of the opening to her favorite movie.

“You remembered?” she asked through the couple tears that had escaped her eyes. One day during their many lunches, she had mentioned that her favorite feel-good movie was The Wiz and since he had never seen it, she vowed to change that. Now here he was, pulling out all the stops.

“Of course I did, I have been making my own ‘Captain America’ list.”

“So have I! It’s on my phone, I’ll grab it after the movie.”

They decided to order pizza and she settled into the couch, but couldn’t get comfortable in her dress.

“Let me get you a change of clothes. It might be a little big-”

“A little? I’m like a foot shorter than you, I’ll be swimming in whatever you give me.”

He chuckled and motioned for her to follow him. She paused the movie right as Toto ran into the snowstorm and got up, trying not to trip over her dress since she no longer had on her heels.

M’Baku found a t-shirt for her to wear and got to looking for pants when she stopped him.

“This should be fine, you’ve already seen everything and this’ll be like a dress on me anyway.” she said, undoing her side zipper and letting the gown fall to the ground before reaching for the shirt. He snatched it away from her and held it up high, forcing her to either climb him or jump for it. She chose the latter and he was too distracted by her bouncing breasts to keep the shirt out of reach. She snatched it from his hand and threw it on, sticking her tongue out at him in the process.

“Do that again, and I will find a much better use for your tongue.” he warned her as they made their way back to the couch.

Monae blushed and plopped down next to him, tucking her legs under her and leaning into M’Baku. He put his arm around her so she could lean in closer and his hand rested on her waist while his fingers mindlessly traced patterns into her side. They stayed like that until the pizza arrived and got right back into position after they ate.

She knew every line and lyric, and M’Baku found himself watching her more than the movie. She was beaming the whole time except when sang along to “Home” through her usual tears.

“Why are you sad?” he asked, wiping them away. She smiled at his concern.

“I’m not sad, it’s just an emotional song. It always gets me” she spoke while dabbing her eyes with a clean napkin. “Ready to see my list?”

“I was born ready.”

She grabbed her phone from the charger while he grabbed a notebook off the coffee table. When she returned, she got right back into the same position tucked into his side and turned her phone on to see several voicemails from Derrick. She rolled her eyes and unlocked her phone, going to her notes app and pulling up her very own “Captain America List”.

“Ok, you go first!”

M’Baku opened his notebook and flipped through the pages for a moment before he found what he was looking for.

“Well I can cross off The Wiz. It is an excellent movie by the way, but I already knew you had good taste,” he said cockily. She nudged him in his side. “This is what I have so far: The Autobiography of Malcolm X, Lemonade (but not the drink), spades, Roots, The Color Purple, and Friday.”

“Ok, ok, good start. Here’s some more, and this is not an exhaustive list. I will be adding more.” She cleared her throat, “So far I have: The New Jim Crow, Homecoming, “the cookout”, the Harlem Renaissance, Kindred, Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater, Pose, and T’Challa’s Black Jeopardy sketch.“

M’Baku scribbled it all down as she spoke, and she was tickled by his intense concentration.

“Anything else?”

“That’s it for now. Where did you get yours from?”

“N’Jadaka and Deontae. Tell me about what’s on your list.”

“Well first we have The New Jim Crow by Michelle Alexander. It’s a really depressing book, but if you want to understand white supremacy in this country and how it still operates today, this is a must. Homecoming because not only is it a flawless performance by Beyoncé Giselle Knowles-Carter-”

“I believe I have heard some of her music, she is very talented.”

“Oh-ho-ho, just you wait. It’s not just about her though, you’ll get a feel for the HBCU experience and that’s important. You have to go to a cookout at least once. I’m gonna try to convince N’Jadaka to throw one at his place, I can’t describe in any other words than Black as fuck. The only thing that beats it is a family reunion. Next we have the Harlem Renaissance which is a whole time period of Black creativity. Authors, artists, musicians, you name it. Kindred is one of my favorite books, it’s sci-fi and has time travel but as I’m sure you can guess, that doesn’t work well for Black people in this country.”

M’Baku could listen to her talk for days and almost got lost in her lips until she caught him and shocked him from his daze.

“Are you listening?”

“I-I am sorry, you are just so beautiful. Please, keep going, I want to hear more.”

“Where was I?” she asked as a heat crept up her cheeks. “Oh, um, right. So, Alvin Ailey because I’m a dancer so obviously I would pick that, and Pose because it’s a really good show and you’ll learn some about the AIDS crisis and how Black and Brown queer and trans people are treated here. Newsflash: not that good. Last, we have T’Challa’s SNL sketch. Oh my god, you have to watch it, he’s actually really funny. That’s all I have for now, but I’ll add more as it comes to me.”

“Tell me about my list.” he requested, continuing to stare at her lips as she spoke again.

“Your list?”

“Mhm.” he said, looking at her dreamily. It was late so she couldn't tell if he was simply tired or enamoured by her. Probably both.

“Ok, well, let me see here…” she looked over his list. “Autobiography of Malcolm X, another must. Do you know who he is?”

“Yes, I learned of him when I was researching your people’s history. He was quite a polarizing character, but I agree with his stance.”

“I actually have all of these books, I’ll bring them to you on Monday. Next up is...Lemonade! This is from Deontae, isn't it?”

“How did you guess?”

“He’s a huge Beyoncé fan and I know damn well this didn’t come from Prince Charming.”

“You think he is charming?” M’Baku asked with a raised eyebrow.

“It’s a character from some old story...and Shrek 2. Anyways, yes, Lemonade the movie not the drink. Spades? Oh, N’Jadaka’s trying to get you killed. Black people do not play when it comes to spades. It’s a card game, I’ll teach you. Roots is a book and a miniseries about a family going through the horrors of slavery. The Color Purple...now reading the book is recommended, but you have to watch the movie. References galore, same with Friday. It’s hilarious, quotable, and about smoking weed. What more could you ask for?”

“Weed?”

A slow grinch-like smile crept up Monae’s face.

“Have you ever smoked before? Eaten an edible?”

“No, it never appealed to me.”

A belly laugh erupted out of Monae and M’Baku stared at her in confusion.

“Oh my god, you got me feeling like Smokey, but my nigga...I’m getting you high. You gotta do it at least once.”

“I will try it for you.”

Monae was giddy and although he couldn't understand where her excitement was coming from, he was looking forward to finding out.

-------

The next morning M’Baku woke up to the feel of movement on his left side. His eyes slowly blinked open as he watched Monae attempt to sneak away from him.

“Where are you going?” he asked, stretching his body and sitting up from the couch. They had fallen asleep around 4am after talking and drinking wine all night, and although the couch was not the most comfortable to sleep on, M’Baku was. Monae slept like a baby, but M’Baku’s neck would probably be hurting for the next day or so.

“As much as we drank last night, where do you think?”

“Someone is feisty in the morning.”

“No, I’m feisty when I’m trying not to pee on myself.”

M’Baku chuckled as she ran down the hallway towards the bathroom. A couple minutes later she poked her head into the hallway.

“Do you have an extra toothbrush I can use?”

“Bottom drawer.”

“Thanks!”

The chief had just finished his morning stretches when Monae reappeared and he took her place. When he emerged, she had eggs and vegetables sitting on the counter and was rummaging through his cabinets. He saw her standing on her tiptoes trying to grab a frying pan that was just out of her reach and he came up behind her to grab it for her. He handed it to her and bent down to lightly kiss her on the neck and whisper in her ear.

“Good morning, beautiful.”

A chill went down her spine as she fought to focus on the task at hand.

“Good morning, handsome.”

He turned her around to face him.

“So you think I am handsome?” he teased, leaning in closer to her lips as her arms made their way around his neck.

“Of course.” She closed the distance and gave him a soft peck, and he responded by pulling her in for a real kiss, tongue and all.

“You know…” she started.

“What?”

“I’m single now…”

“Really? I was not aware,” M’Baku said sarcastically. She playfully hit his chest and his deep, rumbling laugh filled the room.

“Ok, ok I will stop,” he grinned at her.

“As I was saying, since I’m single now I can do whatever I want.”

“Whoever, you mean.”

“Exactly, and it’s a very short list,” she gave him a light kiss. “But first, breakfast!” she pulled away, much to his dismay, but he let her turn back around towards the counter. He held her waist and rested his head on top of hers.

“You know, the more you distract me the longer it’ll take to eat.”

“I do not care,” he said, squeezing her tighter. “Unless you want help, in which case I can be an excellent assistant.”

“I’d like that, actually. Grab a knife and start cutting up the onion while I put on some music.”

The two of them danced around the kitchen to Monae’s “Good Morning” Spotify playlist, M’Baku catching everything she threw back at him and surprising her by being light on his feet. After he finished chopping up the onions, mushrooms, spinach, and tomatoes, he tried to reach for the pan, but Monae’s hand was quicker and beat him to it.

“Nope! I’m cooking breakfast as a thank you.”

“For what?” his head tilted to the side and he gave her a curious glance.

“For...well, everything. It’s been a good month and you’ve been a good friend to me, even though we both know you were always more than a friend...the point is, thank you for being there for me and for making me laugh and for letting me stay the night.”

“Of course, that is what friends do.” he kissed her on the neck again as he walked by to grab dishes from the cabinet. Monae took the apple slices she had just cut and covered them in cinnamon and nutmeg before tossing them in the now-hot skillet. The coconut oil popped her a little, but she was used to it since she had been cooking for years. She let the apples cook down and continued to dance on her own while M’Baku recorded her moves on his rarely-used kimoyo beads.

She put on a show for him, rolling her hips and bouncing her ass extra hard, his t-shirt flying up so that he could get a glimpse of her pussy. She dropped it low to Megan Thee Stallion’s “Cry Baby” before bringing it back up slowly and checking on the apples, which were just about done. She started sauteing up the chopped vegetables and cracked a few eggs into a bowl before whipping them up and pouring them into the skillet. She scrambled up the eggs while she cracked open an avocado and placed slices of it on toast on both plates. M’Baku watched her make herself at home in his space and he wondered for a moment what it would be like to wake up every morning to this, and not just for the next two months.

His thoughts were cut short by her calling his name.

“Are you ok?”

“Yes, I am sorry, I just...you really are enchanting.”

Her bottom lip found its place between her teeth as she handed him his plate. He dug into his honey avocado toast, vegetable scramble, and fried apples like he hadn't eaten in days. When he finished he leaned back and rubbed his stomach in slow circles.

“You are the second best cook I have ever met.”

“Second? The first better be your mama-”

He chuckled at how easily she gets riled up.

“In fact, it is. You two would get along great, she is feisty just like you.”

“No wonder you have good taste in women,” she winked at him as she got up to grab their dishes. He reached for them, but she swatted his hand away. “Aht! This is a ‘thank you’, remember? You can wash them next time.”

She put the dishes in the sink before rinsing one off and placing it in the dishwasher when M’Baku came up behind her, holding her hips and grinding into her.

“I cannot wait to thank you,” he said slowly as he kissed from her ear to her collarbone. Monae was frozen on the spot, stuck under his spell, pussy throbbing more with every touch of his lips and every whisper.

“What are you waiting for?” She pushed her ass into him, feeling his thick, juicy dick sitting on her lower back. Those sweatpants weren’t holding anything down, and she was thankful for the print she saw when she looked behind her, prompting her to turn around and grab it, forcing the chief to let out a rumbling moan.

“N-not now, I want to take you out first on a real date.”

“Ugh, then why are you doing this to me? I’m horny as fuck, M’Baku.”

He chuckled and leaned in to kiss her softly, speaking against her lips, “Because I want your body ready for me.”

She shivered as he backed away from her and left the kitchen, heading towards the dining area to finish clearing off the table.

“So about this date. When are you free?”

“I’m free all weekend,” she said as his gap toothed smile grew bigger across his face.

“Well then how about this: I take you home, then I come back for you later and we go to the festival you mentioned last night.”

She did a little celebratory dance before jumping up to kiss him on the cheek and running to his room to put her dress back on. They both slid on their shoes and were out the door in minutes, Monae extra excited to get their date started.

On the way to Monae’s apartment, they both ignored the confused looks from the passersby as they took in the sight of a man in sweatpants walking hand in hand down the street with a woman in a shiny evening gown. When they reached her building, M’Baku held the door open for her as they entered. He walked her to her door and gave her another featherlight kiss.

“See you soon.”

She unlocked her door and stepped in, closing it behind her and taking a deep breath before leaning her back against it and letting out a dreamy sigh. She couldn’t believe it was finally happening.

Next Chapter

Taglist:

@maddeningmayhem, @theblulife, @devnicolee

#cecewritessometimes #black panther fic #m'baku #m'baku x oc #m'baku's love #black!oc #jada kingdom

62 notes · View notes

tanakavox · 4 years ago

Text

A look into the multiverse chapter 8 SAOA

Many thanks to my friend friend @bssaz97 for his work on the reactions. And TheGoldenBoy2188 for the strict for SAOA making writing easy. The next reaction will be a suprise so stay tune.

Amidst the streets of Mantle, Whitley Schnee walked towards a destination while wearing a disguise consisting of a coat, scarf, shaded glasses, and a flat cap. He had a mission and he would not waste this opportunity!

It was not every day that he could simply leave the manor without Father's permission or notice so he needed to be quick but not noticeable. He had waited months for this day to arrive. Whitley had pre-ordered the latest MMO game of his favorite game series a week before the initial release date and had come to pick it up. Having connections in the right places certainly did have its benefits. The only downside was he had to acquire his prize somewhere outside of his father's notice. So what other place to go than Atlas's sister kingdom.

Outside of his notice, a young white haired faunus woman with sheep ears followed close behind him. Fiona Thyme was out picking up some food for the rest of the Happy Huntresses when she noticed an unfamiliar person walking around. She knew almost everyone on this side of Mantle, so a new person popping out of the blue was very suspicious. Normally she would have reported this back to Robyn but upon further inspection she recognized who this person was.

It was the sole son of the worst man on Remnant and the newly appointed heir of the Schnee Dust Company, Whitley Schnee! Why was he here in Mantle?! Fiona determined he was up to no good and decided to follow him. Wherever the SDC goes, trouble usually follows!

Whitley finally arrived at the destination he was seeking… the Post Office! Now all he had to do was open the door, enter the establishment aaaaaand- stare dumbfounded as the inside of this place was a theatre.

"What the-? This isn't the post office. Where am I?!" Whitley shouted at no one in particular.

"Ah-ha! Caught you right where I- Huh? Where the hell? This isn't the post office!" Fiona also dumbfounded.

"Whitley?" Both Weiss and Winter stated in a mix of shock and disbelief at seeing their little brother. Maybe some hostility on Weiss part.

"Weiss? Winter? How-?"

"What the hell is this?!" A loud female voice shouted as four more people arrived out of nowhere. Consisting of two normal sized humans, a bunny faunus and a very large man.

"Coco/Velvet/Fox/Yatsuhashi!" Teams RWBY and JNR said collectively.

"Oh hello everyone! This… is a surprise! When did you get to Vacuo?" Velvet asked the group.

Fiona turned towards the new strangers, "Vacuo? What are you talking about? You're all in Mantle?"

"I'm most certain we're in Vacuo at the time." Yatsu spoke.

"You are in neither at the moment." Ozpin spoke up.

"What the- Teach? Weren't you supposed to be dead?!" Coco confusingly points out.

"I believe an explanation is in order."

*One short but informative explanation later*

"Wait so we were brought here to watch… alternate realities?" Fiona says after she and all the new arrivals had been told everything about the theater.

"We call them viewings but yeah pretty much." Ruby said.

"Hold on, I can understand why all of you were brought here, seeing as you all are huntsmen and huntresses. But that doesn't explain why I'm here." Whitley, having taken off his disguise.

"A great question indeed." Weiss mutters.

"I think I have a theory." Blake stepped forward. "So far now, I've noticed that the people who are here have at least some involvement in the viewings that we have been seeing. Remember that one viewing we saw of Whitley being stuck inside a video game?"

"I was stuck in a video game?"

"Also if you die in the game you die for real." Nora added.

Whitley's eyes widened at the implications.

"Well you're still stuck as far as we know. But apparently you're very good at the game so you might be fine." Jaune clarifies. Slightly feeling guilty that his alternate is the one who traps him there.

"Oh joy, now I'm trapped inside a place against my will in two realities!" Whitley throws his hands in frustration.

"Oh boo hoo! Is the rich boy gonna cry because nothings going his way today?" Fiona says in a mocking tone.

"Oh I'm sure you would know so much about crying and complaining about trivial things, thief." He shot back at Fiona.

"At least I think about the people of Mantle! When was the last time you thought of someone outside of yourself, Schnee!" Fiona retorted.

Winter sensing that this conversation was going nowhere stepped in between her brother and the happy huntress.

"Enough! None of us came here by choice so let's just stop this pointless arguing and move on."

Fiona huffed, "I couldn't agree more." She stomped away from the two siblings and found herself a seat in the theater.

Winter sighed, "It may not be ideal but as long as you are here Whitley, I would just suggest sitting tight and wait until you or all of us are able to leave this place."

"Hmph, very well. Thank you sister, it almost sounds like you care." Whitley took his leave and found a seat that was about four seats away from Weiss's team.

"Isn't there anywhere else you want to sit," Weiss practically hisses.

"Oh but Weiss it's the only seat that's close enough to you." Whitley affirmed.

Weiss groans in frustration, 'Hopefully it's only for one viewing…'

An acoustic guitar plays in the background as a montage of the events of and post-Episode 1 appears on the screen and a narrator began to talk.

" A month had passed since that fateful day. When everyone's world got all twisted, leaving them stranded in a castle in the sky. Since then, 2000 poor souls came to an abrupt and tragic end. Some by bad luck, others by sheer stupidity. I mean, really. Why would you just stand in fire? Anyways, that didn't bother The Kid none. He only cared about one thing, and one thing alone. Himself. 'Cuz in a game of life or death, you either live... or you die."

The scene transitions to Shirou leaning against a wall with an annoyed look on his face.

"What?! Two thousand of the players have died already!" Ruby yelled, tears starting to form in her eyes.

"Not surprising, seeing as many of them looked weak last viewing." Cinder coolly replies.

Many huntsmen and huntresses glared at the red clad woman. She paid them no mind.

"Well thank you very much Narrator, you're doing a wonderful job of explaining the total death count of this video game prison." Whitley commented dryly.

"Oh, WOW. What brilliant insight! It's so deep it loops right back around to being stupid." Shirou snarked.

"The Kid ranted at no one, it slowly dawning just how alone he truly was" Narrator continued..

Whitley's eyes narrowed, "Am I being sassed by the narrator?"

"Maybe you said something to piss them off." Fiona added.

"Wait, what was that?" Shirou asks, shocked.

"He asked the sky, like a preacher to his silent gods."

"What gods? What are you talking about?! It's all bullshit metaphors with you!"

"He cried, not knowing the difference between a simile and a metaphor. The tininess of his brain dwarfed only by the tininess of his di-"

Whitley's eyes narrowed and face twitched at how much of an annoyance this narrator was being.

Weiss was doing her best to conceal her smile but was failing and breathes out a laugh. She was enjoying the exchange that her brother was going through and found it amusing. Her team gave her a side glance while Fiona and a few others laughed at the roast session the young Schnee was being given.

"Narrator off." Shirou commands the system with an annoyed tone.

"YOUCANSILENCEMEBUTYOUCAN'TSILENCETHETRU-" The narrator got cut off.

"Dick."

"Thank gods that's over, that narrator was extremely rude." Whitley sighed thankfully now that the narrator was silenced.

Weiss and Fiona grumbled that their fun was ruined.

Fade into December 2, 2022, on a strategy meeting led by man called Diabel. He gave a big smiled out to the crow

"Hey everyone. Thank you all for coming to our little powwow. Now, I know many of you may be discouraged by the fact that 2000 people have died so far."

" WHAT?!" A player screamed

" 2000 PEOPLE ARE DEAD?!" Another screamed.

"IT HASN'T EVEN BEEN A MONTH YET!"

"OH MY GOD, WE REALLY ARE FUCKED!"

"Pretty much, sucks to be you!" Mercury laughed.

"These are the people that have to survive this game. Honestly what was blondie expecting," Emerald facepalms.

"Hey! Just because they've lost numbers doesn't mean that they have to lose hope!" Ruby glared at the two assassins.

"And I know even more of you are a little down because we haven't even cleared the First Floor yet." Diabel added, trying to keep the smile on his face.

"WE HAVEN'T?!"

"I THOUGHT WE WERE ALMOST DONE...!"

"You were saying." Cinder looked back at Ruby.

"Well…" Ruby trailed off, thinking of a way to defend these players.

Diabel's smile wavered

"Uh, you guys do know there are 100 Floors, right?"

"WHAT?!" A crowd of players yelled.

Diabels sighed a bit.

Ruby, despite her best attempts, also sighed and sat back down.

"Oh jeez, I am just making things worse. Point is, we found the Boss Room!"

The crowd gasps.

"Now, we've formulated a few strategies with some help from the beta testers-"

"BETA TESTERS?!" A voice yells out.

"Oh goddammit!" Diabel groaned argnily

A player named Kibaou jumps in.

Kibaou, what do you want? Diabel looked tired addressing this player.

"Beta testers? They're the reason we're stuck in this game!" Kibaoyu sneered

Many that heard this player's statement and quickly frowned at his blatant accusations towards these 'beta-testers.'

"This guy can't be serious, right?" Coco stated.

Dianel looked at Kibaou flatterausted at the stupidity of the statement he heard

"What?! Do you have any evidence to back that up?"

Kiabrou scoffed at the question. "Pfft! Evidence. I don't need no evidence. Isn't that right, Jesus?" He points to a player named "Jesus"

" It's pronounced "Hey-Zeus", and I don't know you."

"Wow, really selling your reasoning by having no one else to support your claim." Jaune stated while crossing his arms.

"Well, they still should have helped us newbies!" He exclaimed

"If I might interject...:" A deep voice called out.

A big muscular man gets up and comes to the stage.

Velvet taps Yatsu's arm excitedly, "Hey you're in this game too Yatsu! …oh gods you're in this game too."

"So it seems," Yatsu, doing his best to keep a straight face.

Coco lowered her shades along with a confused look. As far as she knew, Velvet was the only one who played video games on their team. Unless...

"And who the hell are you?!"

"I am known by many names.", "Closed eyed demon. The memory easer., "Hooked clawed tiger". But you? You may call me... "Velvet".

"Velvet huh? That's a... pretty masculine name." Kibaoru said adwarkley

"Shouldn't be. It's a woman's name." Velvet replied casually.

"Damn it. I had a feeling but I didn't want to be right." Coco cursed quietly while shaking her head.

"Wait, why would Yatsu have a character named after me? That doesn't- ...Oh ...oh my gods." Velvet's eyes widened at the implications, tears starting to build. That is until she felt a nudge on one of her shoulders. She turned her head and there was Yatsuhashi looking at Velvet with a gaze that said, 'It's not your fault.'

"Kay, I don't know how to talk to you."

"Good. Then you can shut up and listen. Does everyone here have this book in their inventory?"

" Yeah.

" Yes."

"Yup."

"Yeah."

" No... Wait, can I change my answer?"

Velvet/Yatsushi held up a book to show to everyone.

" This book is full of tips and strategies on how to survive this game, put together by the beta testers. Everyone read it, yet some people still died. The beta testers did everything they could."

"Yeah, that means Mace Hair has no reason to blame the beta testers!" Ruby points out.

Many of her friends nodded and Yastu's team smiled at the sound defense his alternate presented.

" Actually, I didn't read it." One player chimed up.

"Yeah, I didn't read it either."

"I skimmed it."

"OH COME ON!" Many members of the audience shouted in agitation.

"What? Didn't ANY of you read it?! It is literally a matter of life and death." Velvet exclaimed

"Well, dude. It's like 80 pages." A player pointed

"2000 people are dead!"

"THEY ARE?!"

"Again. These are the people that have to survive this game." Emerald reiterates.

Brief pause. Shirou looks shocked at their stupidity.

"I am so done with you people." Velvet mutters, walking off the stage.

" What do you mean "you people"?" A player asked a bit offended.

The Faunus in the room narrowed at their eyes at the implications made by that player.

"What do you mean, "you people"?" Fiona asks no one in particular.

Velvet and Kibaou take their seats.

Diabel continued with the meeting. "So, as Mister Hooked clawed tiger was saying, this book has some great strategies, including how to beat the First Boss, Illfang."

He clears his throat and starts reading from the guide.

"So as you enter the Boss Room, he's gonna throw wave after wave of disposable minions at you... and you must answer in kind."...?

"Uh, what?" A player asks, mirroring Diabel confusion.

Many in the audience reacted just as confused. All except Whitley, who had a good feeling where this was going.

Diabel continues

"Send the weaker players first. Good rule of thumb: If a player asks you for gold 2 seconds after meeting you, front lines."

"Ha, serves 'em right!" Kiaboru said with a laugh

"If they hijack conversations to rant about their political views, front lines."Diabel said with a smirk looking at Kiaboru.

Kibaou went pale. "Aw, shit."

"Ha! Serves you right!" Nora laughed.

"If they ask female players for pics of their boobs, front lines."

"OH BULLSHIT!" One player screamed out in rage.

"THAT'S DISCRIMINATION!" Another one howled.

"BOO!"

Many of the women in the theater frown at the way those players reacted. Winter was more than certain that those players were the type that participated in the mentioned acts the speaker spoke on.

Diabel smiles and waves them down. "Now, now, people. I think there are some valid points being made here. Now, it goes on to say when Illfang's health goes into the red, he's going to switch from his axe and buckler to something called a "Talwar". At that point we should initiate a strategy called "The Final Solution" and- I'm just gonna stop reading! Jesus, who wrote this thing?"

Shirou giggles evilly.

"Of course Whitley wrote that book." Weiss sighed.

"Why sister, it sounds like that didn't surprise you in the least." Whitley pretending to act hurt.

"Please. The manipulative tone of the text almost makes one sound too much like you." Weiss bit back.

"Well I suppose you would know." A wide smile on Whitley's face.

Weiss scoffs turning her head away from her traitorous brother.

Team R_BY and Winter watched the exchange and sighed.

"Okay, so the guide's a bust. But it'll be fine. I'll come up with a great plan for us." Diabel smiles at the crowed.

"Like what?"

" Well... we... could... Uh... Uhhhh... I'm open to suggestions."

"Woah, guys, we could- we could, you know, like, group up and-"

"And hit it 'til it DIES!" Another yelled finishing the other player sentence

"Woo, nice!"

"Yeah!"

" High five!"

The two hive five.

"Well. It's something, right?." Velvet does her best to be optimistic.

Many of the more experienced members of the theater shake their heads.

"That's... a good start. But let's hear some other suggestions."

"I'd like to hear more about this "Final Solution"." A player in a german accent piped up.

"Fuck it, group up." said Diabel said tirely.

Shirou slides down the seats towards a girl, named Fiona, who's on her own.

Fiona blinks in surprise, "Oh my gods, that's me! I'm in the game! Hey other me, stay away from the Schnee!"

"You have my condolences." Weiss says to the sheep faunus.

"So, why aren't, uh, you joining anyone's group?" Shirou asked.

"I have my reasons." She said mysterioly

" Is it because you're a girl?"

"No. It's because... I don't know how to play."

"Because you're a girl?"

Many of the females and males who enjoy video games, such as Yang, Ruby, Velvet, Nora,, Jaune, Oscar, Ren, surprisingly Mercury and Emerald, along with Fiona herself, threw questioning glares towards the current heir of the SDC. Weiss and Winter glared at him as well but for other reasons.

Whitley looks around to see all the glares directed towards him. "Why are you all looking at me? I said nothing."

"No!" Fiona snapped. "It's just... I don't know how to open the menu."

"What?" Both Fiona and Whitley asked.

"Jinx!" Nora shouts.

"What?!" Shriou looked at the girl in shock. "But you can't do anything in this game without the menu. How have you survived all month?"

Cut to Fiona holding a piece of bread. She is staring at it intensely. "HOW DO I EAT YOU?!" She screamed at it.

Many laughs were had at the poor girl's predicament, despite some of them doing their best to not do so but could not help themselves.

Fiona slowly sank into her chair, covering her face in shame. Her alternate was the utter definition of a newb player.

Back to the present.

"It's... been a challenge…" She muttered before looking at Shirou. "What about you? Why haven't you join the others?"

"Oh, lots of reasons. Mostly because they're a bunch of mouth-breathing neckbeards who think "LMAO" is how French people laugh."

" Ha ha, that's so Le Mao!" Said one player far away causing to Shirou shudder.

Whitley in the theater also shudders in disgust. If these were the people that he would have been surrounded by inside the game, then he too would have avoided them like a plague.

"Wow. You certainly... speak from the heart."

"Funny, I thought I was speaking from my mouth. But, eh, shows what I know about biology." He said with a smirk.

"No one else wanted you in their group, did they?"

"Shut up! It was mutual!"

"And who would blame me? Have you seen the players of this game? I'm honestly surprised they lived this long."

"You're just saying that 'cause no one wanted a smartass on their team." Fiona smirked.

"I'm sorry, were you speaking Menu Girl?" Whitley nonchalantly retorts.

Fiona's face grew red in embarrassment and agitation. She wanted nothing more than to raise her hand and activate her semblance right now. 'Give me a reason Schnee, I dare you.'

It cuts back to Diabel smiling and clapping his hands.

"Alright, looks like everyone's grouped up. Get plenty of rest tonight, people! We leave at noon!"

A player groans "Noon?"

"That's so early!"

Diabel sighs. "Alright. What about 1 o'clock?"

" Dude, come on!"

" God, fine! We leave at the crack of... 2:30, I guess. Lazy butts…"

"Christ, I'm gonna have to set my alarm."

Everyone in the theater did not have high expectations for these players as they would face their first challenge.

Cuts to December 3, 2022 Floor 1: Illfang's Tower, 7:30pm. Everyone's at the Boss Door and everyone except Diabel is exhausted.

"Okay, so there were a few more stairs than we realized. Apparently real life athletic ability translates into the game. Good to know." Diabel looked out to the sad sight in front of him.

"Oh, god. I can feel my lungs trying to kill me." One player whined.

" Is this sweat?!"

" I peed a little."

" Jesus, this is sad." Diabel said with a grimace.

One player vomits.

"Congrats Jaune, someone else has now become the new Vomit Boy of this viewing!" Yang exclaimed.

Jaune rolled his eyes at her attempt at making him feel better.

"Fuck it. Why don't you all just take a Cheetos and Mountain Dew break, and we'll reconvene in an hour."

1960 Batman-Esque transition with Cheetos and Mountain Dew.

" Dammit, guys! I was kidding! You weren't supposed to actually take an hour!" Dibal said in a rage."God, we've lost so much time. Let's just do this already! You all know the plan!"

Illfang jumps into the center of the room and roars. Kobolds pop in, and an error message pops up on the third one that says "Error: "Sentinel_ " not found."

Ruby and Nora laughed at the mob that got glitched.

"Alright, men!" Diabel began,"Form up and-"

"EVERY MAN FOR HIMSELF!" A player screams

The armies converge on each other.

"Are they serious! You can't just go gung-ho in a boss battle!" Jaune exclaimed at the increasingly apparent, dim-witted players.

"What?! No! Goddammit guys!" Diabel begins to bark out orders. "Squad B, quit attacking the Boss and keep the Sentinels off us! C, D, stop attacking from the front! Do you even know what "flank" means?! Squad F, for fuck's sake! Stop playing Bejeweled! *Groans* Squad G, get in there and help A and B!"

"Got it!" Shirou said with a nod rushing in.

"Don't talk back to…" Diabel did a double take."l Holy shit, really?!"

"How is Whitley the most sensible minded player in this game?!" Weiss asked.

"Weiss, have you seen the other players?" Blake asked her in a deadpanned tone.

"...Yes you're right, that's actually too much of an insult." Weiss admits.

Shirou attacks a Sentinel, leaving Fiona to finish it off.

"Okay, Fiona! What you're gonna wanna do here is-"

Fiona lets out a Battle Cry and kills the Sentinel in one hit.

Fiona in the theater perked up at this display, "Oh my- I can fight! Oh thank gods I can fight!"

Shirou eyes widened in shock "Wow, I thought she was hopeless, but her technique is flawless. If I didn't know any better, I'd say she's even better than I-"

"Hey Shirou! I killed the thing and now it says I have XPs! Is that bad? Am I dying?! Fiona cried out to him in fear."

Shirou rolls his eyes"Or... maybe... not."

"Miss Fiona, either your alternate is very lucky or is very out of base with technology. I can't tell which it is." Whitley stated.

"Shut up Schnee, she's trying!" Fiona defends her other self.

Illfang's health drops into the red. He snarls at the players and he tosses his weapons.

"Alright, men! This last part's gonna take careful coordination…" Diabel ran towards Illfang. "which is why I'm just gonna do it myself!"

Diabel charges his weapon art. Illfang draws his Ōdachi.

Ruby's eyes widened, "OH NO!"

Shirou looked and saw the weapon and his eyes widened calling to Diabel. "Oh shit! Diabel, look out! That's not a Talwar! It's an Ōdachi!"

"What's the difference?!" Diabel ask still running towards Illfang.

"Well, a Talwar is of Indian descent while an Ōdachi is Japanese! While both are primarily slashing weapons, the Talwar was favored by cavalrymen, as opposed to an Ōdachi which was mainly used for dick measuring!" As Shirou is talking, Illfang starts jumping off the walls.

" What's your point?!" Diabel asked impaintely.

"Well if you let me finish, I was getting to that! You see…"

Diabel gets hit by Illfang, screaming in pain.

Many of the huntsmen and huntresses in the theater either gasped in fear or looked away at the surely doomed player.

"What's happening? Did I miss something?" Fox called out.

"Oops." Shirou sheepishly said.

Illfang hits Diabel again, sending him flying.

"DIABEL!" Kibaou yelled out.

Illfang pops down in front of Kibaou and roars. A message pops up "Bonus Item: Soiled Pants". Above Kibaou

"Hey, rare drop!' A player said cheerfully.

Mercury laughed at the joke while most of the others were disgusted by the fact that that achievement was unlockable.

Shirou runs over to Diabel and holds him up.

" I was trying to say an Ōdachi's a little bit longer than a Talwar, so it'll have more reach and do a bit more damage."

"And why couldn't you say that first?" Diabel asked weakly

"Yeah you dummy! You almost might've killed him!" Ruby cries out.

Whitley was actually taken aback by that statement. Sure he had moments of pride and arrogance, sometimes he looked down on people but he didn't believe he would ever intentionally kill someone.

" I like to think of myself as a teacher. Anyway, drink this."

Shirou tries to give Diabel a healing potion but he stopped Shirou shaking his head.

"No. It's better this way. I just can't do it anymore. I had such high hopes at first. But now? Our best player is a girl who thinks DPS is some kind of sex thing." Both turned to glance to Fiona.

"I know. It's weird, right?"

Fiona sulked more into her chair.

"You're clearly not like the rest of them. How do you stand it, Shirou? Where do you draw your strength?" Diabel look at Shirou like a sage.

Shirou sigh and drops his wisdom onto him. "I've been playing MMO's a long time, Diabel, and if there's one thing I've learned, it's that lions do not concern himself with the opinions of sheep. Just take that little voice in your head that tells you to be tactful and understanding... and shoot it. Shoot it in the goddamn face."

" You are so wise. If only I'd met you sooner. Perhaps, things would have been different. You must lead them now. Show them this game can be beaten." Diabel let's go of Shirou wrist.

Weiss was taken aback that this man was actually willing to place trust in this alternate of her brother. This stranger who barely even knows him placed the lives of all the players into his hands. Much like how she tried to trust Whitley once… this caused a bitter frown to grow on her face in recollection. Even if this was a different version of him, it was still Whitley in her eyes.

Shirou smiles fondly at Diabel. "Another life... in another time... I think we could have been friends."

"I... doubt it." Diabel gasps out before turning to shattered glass, dying.

" Well fuck you, too!" Shirou said angrily his smile dropping into a frown.

Fiona slips in by Shirou's side and began to lay out a plan.

"Alright, Shirou. Here's what we'll do. One counters his blows to knock him off balance and the other switches in to attack. Rinse. Repeat. Victory."

Shirou looked at her with one eye. "You came up with that, but you can't open a menu."

"Shut up!" Fiona cried out.

Illfang roars and they take off running toward him.

"Alright, so you counter and I'll attack!" Shirou yelled to Fiona.

"What? No, it's my plan! I should attack!" Fiona yelled back.

"Fine, just get ready!"

Shirou makes a battle cry and counters Illfang's attack.

"SWITCH!"

Fiona moves in and gets her cloak destroyed by Illfang before attacking revealing white curly hair and sheep ears.

" See? You almost got yourself killed! I'll attack him!" Shirou yelled again and began to attack Illfang.

"Oh, that was a fluke, and you know it! He's mine!" Fiona yelled back.

Fiona attacks Illfang.

"Oh shit. They're actually giving that boss the work!" Coco called out.

"He's mine!" Shirou yelled.

Shirou blocks Illfang's next attack, but Fiona attacks him before Shirou can do so himself.:

"Mine!" Fiona screams

"NO! HE'S! MIIIIIIIIIIINE!"

Shirou slices Illfang and he explodes. Everyone is stunned. Lame party kazoo sound effect and a banner with the word "CONGRATULATION" appears.

"Yeah!" A player cheer.

This caused almost everyone in the audience to laugh. Despite the dark humor of it all, it was still pretty hilarious.

"What happened? Did they win?" Fox asks

"Oh yes, I'm sorry Fox! They beat the boss and a victory banner came out."

"...heh." Fox chuckled.

Shirou is panting. He gets an item as a reward for defeating the Boss.

"Congratulations!" Velvet said, patting him on the back. "That was even more impressive than that cat that learned to play."

Cut to a player with a cat's head, with another player staring at it.

"Meow."

"Huh what did you know?" Yang replied.

"Oh my god! You guys can see it too?! So I'm not crazy! Isn't that great, Jesus?!" We see things from the players' perceptive, with a giant hallucination of Jesus Christ looming over the crowd.

"That's right, Jeffrey. Now... kill them all." Jesus said, his voice growing darker.

"As you command, my Lord." Jeffrey whispered.

"Somethings very wrong with that guy." Qrow states.

"I honestly agree with you, Branwen… Blegh! That left a horrible taste in my mouth." Winter stated.

Cut back to Velvet talking to Shirou. The other players are applauding his victory.

"You've led us to victory, Shirou. These men and I will follow you to hell itself. Now... address your people." Velvet is smiling and pushing Shirou to the crowd.

Shirou gets up and smirks. "I always knew this day would come. Ahem. Fellow gamers! We have traveled far and up many stairs to get to this point. Fighting side by side, noobs, and leets, alike. I'd like to take a moment to say that I couldn't have done it without the help of each and every one of you."

"Aw, that's a nice thing to say-" Velvet was cut off when Shirou counties.

"Of course, I'm not a liar, so I'm not gonna say any of that."

"Oh shit."

"I thought as much." Weiss states.

Shirou grins look at the group. "I mean, really. I could've done this whole Boss Fight myself. But to be fair, I guess you did absorb a bit of damage for me, which was nice. You were an adequate meat shield, and no one can ever take that away from you."

"Fuck. Fuck! Shut up! SHUT UP!" Velvet started to say.

"So for those of you who came in late, and that one guy playing Bejeweled back there... shoot for the stars... it'll make it more fun when I kick you back into the dirt."

"You're not better than us!" Kiaboru said.

"Yeah! What makes you think you're so cool?!" Nora shouts to the screen.

Shirou equips the coat he got for beating Illfang and smugly looks at the group."My sweet-ass coat begs to differ."

"Dammit, he's got us there." one player muttered.

Shirou ascends the stairs out of the Boss Room. Fiona follows him and grabs him by the shoulder. "Shirou, wait!"

Those in the audience looked on at Fiona's alternate in hope. Surely she could turn him around after their excellent display of partnership.

"I want half." She said, staring at him blankly.

That hope was quickly squashed, shot at, and finally burned to death via gasoline and cracking a fire dust crystal.

Shirou turns to her confused. " I'm... sorry. What?!"

"I want half the coat. I did half the work, I should get half the coat." Fiona explain and extends her hand for him give it to her.

"No! It's not fabric I can cut! It's just a bunch of 1s and 0s!" Shirou was getting frustrated.

"Fine, then give me the 1s."

" Fuck you! I want the 1s!" He groans and open the menu. "I am not having this argument. I'm disolving this party." Shirou opens his menu and "Di-solves" their party.

"Shirou! If you walk away with my half of the coat, I will make your life a living hell!" Fiona screamed.

"You know what? Fine! I'll give you the damn coat! Just send me a trade request."

"A... what?"

Fiona's eyes widened as she watched from the theater, "No…"

Shirou grins viciously "Oh, it's quite simple really... Just open your menu." Shirou starts laughing maniacally as he walks out the doors as Fiona screams at him:"YOU SON OF A BITCH!" At him.

Outro Plays.

Fiona screams, "I can't believe the nerve of that-! GRAAAAH!"

"Can you please stop screaming! You're going to cause everyone's ears to bleed." Whitley said while using a handkerchief to rub his ears.

Fiona huffed then matched off, going to another place in the theater.

"Well that was interesting. So you all say there's other viewings where we see other worlds besides this one." Coco asked the group.

"Oh yeah, we've seen a couple worlds ourselves, but only a handful I'd say." Yang admits.

"Well as long as we're here, we might as well take time to catch up." Velvet smiled.

"Yeah, this will be great! It's almost like we're back at Beacon, right Weiss? ...Weiss?" Ruby looks beside her but noticed that her partner was not with them anymore.

In another side of the theater, the all three Schnee siblings stand together. Both of the youngest siblings look at Winter who brought them here.

Winter clears her throat, "I understand that there are some… tension between the three of us during this viewing. So I asked you both here so that we may come to terms with our situation."

Weiss scoffs, "Come to terms with him! I highly doubt that."

Whitley crosses his arms, "Yes it does seem like a lost cause Winter."

"Enough! Both of you!" Winter raised her voice causing both of her younger siblings to go rigid. "I'm not expecting you to get along or even apologize to each other at the moment. What I ask is if you two can at least act civil with one another while in the theater?"

Both Weiss and Whitley looked at each other and sneered at each other.

"Why of course I can be civil with Whitley. It is a virtue of a lady to be civil at all times." Weiss said with hidden venom.

"Quite true, but being civil is also a quality an heir of the Schnee family must cultivate as well. So I look forward to spending this immeasurable amount of time with you my sisters." Whitley said with his best presentable smile.

"Yes, how I enjoy us taking this time to reacquaint with each other." Weiss said while one of her eyes was twitching.

"Well then sister, shall we?" Whitley gestured for Weiss to go ahead of him. Almost would have been believable if one did not notice the glint in his eyes and his strained smile.

Winter watched as both Weiss and Whitley walked back to the auditorium where everyone else had remained.

"...This can only end badly."

Hope you enjoyed.

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dean-winchesters-gardian-angel · 4 years ago

Text

The Same Bed - Chapter 2

Word count: 2895

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: Friends are there to help each other out, but can they help falling for each other when all the long days they spend together turn into late nights they have and their reliance on each other.

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, angst, unhealthy past relationship, slow burn.

A/N: Second chapter has arrived y’all. Read it, enjoy and I’ll see you on the other side. There’s also a tag list, so be sure to tell me if you want in, or don’t I won’t force ya, as well as a masterlist so be sure to check it out. Anyway, as are the latest, Unbeta’d all mistakes are mine.

Series masterlist

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

The next week consisted of the same routine. Always in the same bed, always holding hands, with Dean falling asleep first. Tonight, was no different, apart from the bar they decide to hit after a very successful hunt before heading home. An easy salt ’n’ burn which went down without a hitch. Celebratory drinks were purchased and consumed by the Winchesters and their partner. They sat on the stools awaiting their next drinks while Y/N was approached by a man. Not unattractive by any means, well-built and clean. Sam looked over watching the interaction and Dean's behaviour knowing full well he may have to break up a fight if it went too far. Dean watched as Y/N shamelessly flirted with the gentlemen who had now caught her attention. It didn’t take very long for Dean's jealousy to overtake him as he clenched his fist around his beer bottle his posture tall and rigid. Y/N turned to the boys after wishing the stranger a good night.

“Hey guys I’m kind of beat, what’d you say we head home?”

“You turned down Prince Charming?” Trust Dean to make the ridiculous comments.

“Actually no, I told him I’d be more than willing to run away with him and have all his Prince Charming babies in his castle, but he didn’t want to make my boyfriend angry.” Trust Y/N to throw the comment right back at him.

“What boyfriend?” Y/N looked at Dean, a smirk on her face with one eyebrow raised as she pointed at him.

“He said you looked angry and didn’t want to provoke you by talking to me. So, thanks for that.” She started walking towards the exit a smirk on her face as Dean chased her, Sam holding up the tail laughing to himself.

“Don’t blame that on me I didn’t do anything! Oh, excuse me for being precautions and not wanting you to get hurt!” Dean could argue all he wanted but with Sam laughing and Y/N being as nonchalant as she was, he couldn’t get a reaction out of them. After getting home, they all made their way to bed. As always Y/N stayed with Dean, though tonight she couldn’t fall asleep and for good reason. Y/Ns phone had begun vibrating incessantly. She snatched it up swiftly with the aim of leaving Dean to his sleep, and she managed gracefully.

What woke Dean that night was something he would have described as a nightmare, though tonight it happened to be real and not a figment of his sleeping state. Dean opened his eye to see Y/N sitting up leaning against the headboard instead of the bright Y/E/C he was usually greeted with. Her gaze wasn’t on his as he’d hoped it’d be, it was on her phone, and they weren’t happy or refreshed as they ordinarily were, they were lacking in rest and filled with tears coupled with the sorrowful and provoked look on her face. Dean rushed to sit up looking at her, worry painted plain and clear on his face.

“Y/N! Are you okay? What happened?” His gaze had trailed to her phone which she briskly shut off, wiping tears away with her free hand.

“Dean! Sorry, I — Sorry I didn’t mean to wake you, I was just — I was reading the news.” She had always been a terrible liar.

“The news made you cry?” The disbelief overtook his expression. “Y/N I trusted you with my nightmares, you can trust me with — “ he waved his hand at the phone “whatever this is.”

“I know, I know I just — I want to forget about it…” Deans stare didn’t falter, waiting for her to continue. Y/N caved, leaning her head back and closing her eyes as though she could make it all disappear if she couldn’t see anything.

“I have this ex…” she peered over to Dean who made himself comfortable. She had his full and undivided attention, which she hated. “He’s mad about the breakup.”

“Y/N I’ve known you for ages you haven’t dated anyone in years.”

“Oh, I know…which just makes his advances and accusation all the more aggravating… His name is Carver. Keeps saying I messed up his life, that if I hadn’t shown up, he’d have been better off. Jokes on him I was the better half of that relationship and I can say that. Anyway, um, in short, he’s bombarding me with texts about how I never loved him, about how I played him and he’s accusing me of cheating and not doing enough for him, there’s more but it's all the same pathetic revelations he thinks I need to know about at two am four years after our breakup. I mean we didn’t even date that long to begin with it took me less than two months to figure out what a pig-headed loser he was — is!”

She was angry, hurt by the words directed at her. Regardless of the fact that she knew not to take Carver’s words to heart, she couldn’t help but do just that. Seeing as he had never been good with words, Dean instantly took action, pulling her close, hugging her as she cried her way back to sleep in his arms. Dean slid down in the bed, not once pulling away from Y/Ns body or moving her to her side. Dean found it difficult to keep the butterflies at bay as he focused on her breathing. He fell asleep with his girl on his chest and a smile on his lips.

When Y/N woke she could feel the weight of Dean's warm hand stroke her back and could hear a steady pulsing noise. Funny enough that, she soon identified the noise as Dean's heartbeat seeing as she was still laying on his chest. She moved cautiously unaware of the fact that the man she had fallen asleep on was in fact awake as well.

“Morning, sweetheart.”

“Morning, Dean. Listen about last night—“

“It's okay, really, I’m just glad I could be there for you.”

“Thank you.”

“You know, I seem to remember a pizza when you helped me…”

“Really? I don’t.” This was easy, Dean thought, comfortable, with Y/N resting gently against his chest looking up at him, his hand still stroking her back.

“Huh, I could have sworn there was a pizza.”

“Oh, you mean the one you finished off before I could get a chance to taste it. That pizza?”

“If I remember correctly, which I do, it was you who ate it all…before we even got home.”

“Oh, you mean that pizza. I do recall yes.” She smiled at him “And what would you like Dean?”

“Do you really have to ask?”

“Fine but you’re buying, I’m just going with you.” Y/N made her way out of bed to the door.

“That’s hardly fair!” He called out after her, a smile adorning his face. Dean got up and moved to the bathroom stopping at the sink to look himself in the mirror.

“You’re losing this battle and you’re losing it bad. Man, how does she do it.” He brushed his teeth and made his way to the bunker library where Sam was researching, as always, on his laptop, books scattered over the table.

“Morning, Sammy. Y/N and I are going on a supply run, you need anything?” Dean's eyes trained over the opened pages before looking to his brother, eyebrows raised as he awaited his brother's response.

“You two have been spending quite a bit of time together.”

“Is that the title of a book or something you want me to pick up?” Sam watched his brother for a split second before Y/N joined them in the library dressed in black jeans and an equally black tank top, signature hunter flannel overtop.

“Morning, Sammy. Dean and I are going on a supply run. You need anything” The boys abandoned their stare before Sam answered as Dean headed for the door.

“No. Thank you. Oh, actually if you could bring back some cashews that would be great.”

“Yeah, sure, no problem. See you later Sam.” With that Y/N followed Dean to the garage where she was once again faced with the stunning, near mint ’67 impala she had come to love almost as much as the driver. Noticing the smile decorating Y/Ns face he proceeds to say the one sentence, sworn she would never in a million years, come out of Dean's mouth.

“You wanna drive?” Naturally, Y/N was speechless, mouth left agape as Dean held out the keys.

“You’re serious…” Eyes wide she whispered, tiptoeing over to Dean.

“Yeah, I figured it’s about time.” Y/N took the keys in her palm memorizing the weight as though this was the last time she’d ever have the opportunity to touch them, which of course wasn’t true; Dean would always give her the keys to grab things for the trunk. She eased her way into the driver's seat hardly blinking, as not to miss a detail of this experience. Taking a deep breath, her cheeks began to hurt from all the smiling as she started turned the key in the ignition bringing Baby to life.

“Oh, Dean…Oh Baby!” Dean tries his best to hold back his giggles as he watched her watch Baby.

“She likes you”

“She’s not a dog Dean, she a machine.” He could hear the adoration in her voice as she gripped the steering wheel. Y/N proceeded to put the impala in the drive, pulling out of the bunker's garage onto the road in the direction of the grocery store. Dean's eyes lit up and the eruption of laughter coming from next to him. Dean moved to turn on the stereo putting in a Who tape but was interrupted by Y/N.

“Nuh-uh! Driver picks the music; shotgun shuts his cake-hole! Your rules Dean-o. Look in the box, there should be an orange tape.” Taken aback by her dominance, Dean looks through the case of tapes.

“Dean-o? Really? That just sounds so stupid.”

“Well then it’s fitting isn’t it? And I was worried you thought it was cute.”

“Haha…There’s like 17 orange tapes in here you wanna be more specific.”

“It should say ‘the best of Zeppelin’ in black sharpie, my handwriting.” Dean's confusion and surprise grew as he finally reached for the tape described to him.

“Put it in.” Y/N couldn’t help but smirk at the innuendos running through her head though Dean missed it, too consumed by shock at her choice of music as he inserted the tape.

“The first one is my favourite Zeppelin song so no interrupting.” Instantly the aforementioned bands ‘No Quarter’ came on, filling the car with its gentle beginning. As the guitar and drums picked up Y/N smirked and nodded her head to the music.

“Just wait for the bass.” Without delay the instrument picked up, engulfing their mutual ears with something Y/N could only describe as “Better than breathing air.”

She sang the lyrics alongside Robert Plant at a hushed murmur not wanting to miss the words the artist performed. With every beat her fingers tapped on the steering, she consequently plucked at each of Dean's heartstrings. He felt a warm, nearly overwhelming feeling charge through his chest though as soon as he came to notice it, he pushed it down just as fast as it had made its way up.

Y/N still had a smile on her face when they arrived at the grocery store though it took them longer to get there due to the scenic route the drive had taken. She got out of the car happy to have had the experience but nevertheless saddened by the slim chance of ever have it again. Y/N came around the car to Dean's side holding out the keys to him before he looks at her, his face expressing the utmost confusion, sarcastically so, before smiling.

“Nah, you hold onto ‘em sweetheart, how do you expect to drive us home if you don’t have the key.”

With a shriek and a jump before clinging to the Winchesters side in a show of thanks, Y/N displayed to perfection, a child on Christmas morning. Though he hugged back he watched around them, inspecting for judgmental eyes.

“We are in public!” He said.

“Shit! I know.” Dean began their trek to the entrance with Y/N wrapped around his waist, his arm resting on her shoulder.

Dean grabbed a buggy at the entrance pushing it to the produce.

“We gotta grab those, uh…” “Cashews?”

“Yes, those, before we forget.”

“Good idea.”

The store was sparse of customers given that it was the middle of the day in the middle of the week, neither was surprised. Their cart had begun accumulating content as Dean pushed while Y/N rode on the front-facing him.

“Alright, we got the bread, milk, eggs, cashews, bacon,” She looks up to Dean “times two,” he shrugged “snacks for the drive back and movie night,” “all we're missing now is —“

“Y/N?” She didn’t turn to check who had called because she already knew, recognizing the voice that had yelled ta her on multiple occasions only to apologize saying he’d do better. Instead, she looked to Dean who eyebrows had raised in a questioning manner then focusing on the man who had called her name. Y/N hopped off the buggy slowly to be faced with the one that still managed to ruin her sleep all these years later. Dean promptly made his way to her side reassuring her with a hand on her lower back.

“Carver— Hi.” Dean jaw visibly clicked at the mention of his title, finally putting a face to the name.

“What are the chances!” How dare he text her those things the night before only to act as though nothing happened. Dean was furious, he could feel his anger roll through him as he clenched and released his fist doing his best no to make a scene.

“Yeah…” She breathed out in shock. Not a word was spoken as they watched the ex standing in front of them.

“Can we talk?”

“No. I’m busy.”

“It’ll only take a second.” He looked to Dean, who had taken a protective stance next to her, standing up straight and tall, shoulders back, chin tilted up slightly, a blank expression on his face.

“Just say it then.”

“I was hoping I could speak with you alone.”

“No.” This time Dean was the one to respond to Carver’s request.

“I wasn’t really askin’ you, buddy.”

“He’s staying Carver. Just — say whatever you have to say, will you.” It took him a moment as he held Dean's stare before moving his gaze to Y/N.

“I wanted to apologize for last night…you know… the—“ He gestured using his head glancing at Dean momentarily.

“You mean the utterly untruthful and pitiful text you sent to me accusing me of things I never did.” Carver’s face went red looking to Dean. “He knows.” The Winchester found it amusing that her ex was intimidated by him with only a stare.

“Right, well, I just wanted to apologize. I was drunk and didn’t mean any of it.” Carver moved his hand to the back of his neck before continuing. “I guess I was just missing you.”

“That’s because I took on all the responsibilities when we were together, Carver. You did nothing. And you know what they say, ‘drunk man's words are a sober man's thoughts.’”

Dean now had a proud smile on his face as his hand slid from her back to rest on her shoulder. Carver didn’t know what to say to that. He couldn’t argue with her, not that he’d want to, considering the towering man next to her. Carver examined the couple, taking in their comfort around each other. Y/N was unconsciously leaning into Dean, taking comfort in his close proximity.

“You guys dating.” Carver finally asked. Y/N didn’t even get a chance to process the question let alone think of a response before Dean spoke up.

“Well, we’re certainly not just sleeping together. Not that it’s any of your business.” Y/N smirked at his comment, understanding the inside joke that they were in fact just sleeping together in the most literal sense possible, though Carver took the smile as a sign of confirmation. Neither argued his assumption nor clarified, both enjoying the uncomfortable atmosphere around Carver.

“It was good to see you Y/N.”

“It was wasn’t it.” She commented as Carver walked his way to the check-out line. Dean leaned down kissing the crown of her head.

“What. An asshole.”

“Yeah, tell me about it.”

“Right, now that that’s over,” He made a face of disgust as he shivered his shoulder to reinforce his implications. “where were we?” He smiled at her.

“Pie, Dean, we were at the pie. My ‘thank you’ for dealing with that.” She pointed in Carver’s general direction.

“Awesome, so worth it.” Dean's grin grew as he spotted the variations of baked goods.

As they drove back, Dean gave her permission to take the longest way home if she felt so inclined, which, needless the say, she did.

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

Chapter 3

Tag List: @just-someone-difficult @mila-dans @akshi8278 @bargedog @valhallavxlkyrie

Series Tags: @wellfuckmyexistence @lovememisha @laycblack @redbarn1995

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vivi-the-sky-kid · 4 years ago

Text

Sowing the Seeds (of Love), Chapter 1

Aka the Resh/OC Fix-It Fic Nobody Asked for but I'm Inflicting on All of You Anyways as Punishment for Kai's Your Hubris

The King has always been a mysterious figure in the annals of the Sky Kingdom's history, generating both awe and fear within the hearts of the sky spirits. Few can claim to have met them in person; certainly not Tav, a researcher of light creatures for the Vault of Knowledge. But when they discover their research may be used to harm the very creatures they know and love, Tav knows they cannot allow this to happen.

Somehow, they must change the King's mind. If that means throwing butterflies at their royal face, then so be it.

-<◇>-

Warnings: Will be added to each chapter when necessary, but there's not gonna be anything graphic in this (do send me an ask if you think there's something I should warn about tho)

Rating: T (just to be on the safe side)

Pairing(s): Resh/OC

Tag(s): Enemies to Lovers, Fake Dating, Canon Divergence, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies

Additional Tag(s): Resh and Alef are twins, Resh and Tav are both nonbinary, Resh uses he/they, Tav uses she/they, Resh is demiromantic and pansexual, Tav is biromantic and demisexual, no beta we die like moths in eden

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12

-<◇>-

Chapter 1

Word Count: 2,477

Warning(s): None

-<◇>-

Fury powered her strides as Tav marched towards the elevator leading to Elder Lamed's level of the Vault. What they had overheard... it was unthinkable! Outrageous! And they intended to let Lamed know exactly that! She couldn't let her research be used like this. Not to harm the very creatures they had spent their life studying.

Onwards and upwards she went, a lone figure on the elevator. Scholars sorting memory cubes and acolytes tending to the spiritual residue of the Kingdom's history flew past her vision. Finally, the elevator came to a stop, its power diamond moving to rest over the Elder statues, and Tav mustered their psychokinetic powers to fly the short distance to the grassy island. That had been a trick the mantas had helped her master; if not for them, she would still struggle to get around Vault's upper levels like before. They took a breath to steady themself, adjusted the prairie lily clipped to their hair, and moved forward.

As they crested the structure bearing the Elder statues, Tav looked around. She could see no sign of Elder Lamed, which meant, more likely than not, the Elder had withdrawn into their private domain. There was nothing for it but to light the altar candles, sit before their statue, and pray.

Their legs had started to fall asleep when they finally felt the brush against their mind that meant Lamed had heard their prayer, and was ready to listen. She relaxed and let the Elder pull their consciousness into that dreamy world. When they next opened their eyes, they knelt in the same spot, although the elevator diamond was now gone, casting the area in comfortable shadows. In the statue's place stood Lamed, gazing down at her with an unreadable look.

“Ah, so you are the one who prayed. Tav, was it? Head of the light creature research effort?”

“That's correct, Elder Lamed. I've come to you regarding a decision involving my research.”

“Is that so?” Their eyes flickered beneath the mask, before they dipped their head. “Very well. Speak.”

Tav jumped to their feet, hands clenching the fabric of their robe. “Elder Lamed, I cannot permit my research to be used to develop these 'dark weapons' R&D is proposing! Light creatures are beautiful, wonderful creatures that share a great deal in common with us. They are intelligent, gentle, and loving beings. To turn them into weapons is... is... is out of the question!”

The Elder's eyes had grown wide at her outburst, but soon closed as they pressed a hand to their forehead. “Really, Tav, you're being unreasonable. R&D has already gained permission from the King to go forth with this project. Are you saying you doubt His Majesty's judgment regarding the good of the kingdom?”

“Yes!”

Silence filled the domain. Sweat began running down Tav's back as a great pressure weighed down on them. When they almost gave in and knelt once more, it lifted, and Lamed turned away.

“I expect your research to be turned in to the Vault at the appropriate deadline. Is that understood?”

Tav was silent.

“I said, is that understood, Tav?”

“...It is, Elder Lamed.”

“Good. You are dismissed.”

With that, their vision swam, and they closed their eyes to ward off the nausea. Upon opening them, she found herself back at the summit, the power diamond shining coldly overhead. They looked up at the statue and sighed.

Resolve filled them once more, and they stood and walked back to the elevator. Lamed may not have listened, but there was one more person she could try to convince. All reports of the King had them as a kind and benevolent ruler who listened to the people, yet these latest projects said otherwise. Which was the truth, and which was a lie? There was only one way to find out.

Tav swallowed the lump of fear in her throat. This was no time to get cold feet. The light creatures were counting on them.

First things first, however. She needed to keep her research out of the wrong hands.

-<◇>-

Another day, another round of paperwork. Resh sighed inwardly as he dipped his manta quill into the inkwell to sign the latest report from the Golden Land's biggest sunsteel refinery. Production was holding steady due to the shipment of light from Daylight Prairie, and they would likely have enough in reserve for the little project Vault R&D had recently proposed.

A soft call from the doorway caught their attention, and they lifted their head. One of the guards—a new recruit, if their nervous demeanor was any indication—was standing there somewhat awkwardly, but snapped to attention once his gaze was upon them.

Yes, definitely new. That salute was just a little bit too sloppy to be one of the older members.

“What is it?” he said, fixing his gaze on them.

They stiffened. “Y-Your Majesty, there is... a researcher from the Vault demanding to speak with you. They refuse to leave otherwise.”

“Return them to the Vault. We have no time for a meeting, let alone with some unknown researcher,” they replied, returning to their paperwork.

“What do they want?” said a new voice, chiming up from the door leading further into the royal quarters.

Resh blinked and slowly turned towards it. Watching the exchange was their twin, Alef, still dressed in the formal wear of the golden mask, yellow-painted pizaine, and midnight-blue cloak they used for being the public face of the King. They must have returned a short time ago from their trip to the Valley.

“Your Majesty, they have requested you withdraw your support for the Dark Matter Bioweapon project.”

“Have they, now?” Resh shook his head. “Unfortunately, it is too late. The proposal has been signed and delivered to the Vault. To withdraw it now would be equivalent to saying We have made a mistake.”

They let the implications of that statement hang in the air like a sword above the guard's head. With a stammered response of, “Of course, Your Majesty,” they left, and soon only Alef and Resh remained in the office. The latter ignored the former's pointed look, turning back to the stack of paperwork that had yet to be completed with another sigh.

“You've been doing that a lot lately. Perhaps you should take a break.”

Resh shot them a glare out of the corner of his eye, but did not stop his work. Only when they had signed a petition to expand the Valley of Triumph, a tally of candle production in the Isle of Dawn, and a request for more light shipments to the Hidden Forest, did they gesture with their free hand to the desk's contents.

“As you can see, Alef, I am kept busy with the affairs of the kingdom. I am King, after all. My guidance is needed to ensure the kingdom's prosperity.” He dipped the quill into the inkwell once more and grabbed another piece of paper—this time, a request from the Valley to provide them with more boats, as some had broken recently.

“I cannot rest until I have dealt with these matters” —and they said this last bit under their breath— “even if they are incredibly dull.”

Alef hummed and moved closer, cloak swishing softly around his body. They picked up one of the papers in the discarded stack, scanned it, and then looked to Resh. “Surely you can rest from these for a short time? All work and no play makes one a dull star.”

“How rich, coming from the one who only concerns themself with attending celebrations and avoiding any work here,” they replied.

Alef narrowed his eyes, then shook his head and shrugged.

“You want me to do some work here? Very well.” They went up to the switch next to the desk, which would summon a guard when activated (not that Resh had ever used it), and called forth their inner flame in one hand to light it. Soon enough, the same guard from before came to the office. They gave the salute again, a little more firmly this time.

“You called, Your Majesty?”

“Is the researcher still here?”

“Y-Yes, Your Majesty. I was on my way to relay your wishes when you summoned me back.”

“I have decided to grant them an audience. Please have them escorted to the throne room.”

“Oh, uh...” They cleared their throat. “As you wish, Your Majesty.”

“What are you doing?” Resh said, eyeing their sibling with suspicion.

“Work. You said you were too busy to meet with them, didn't you? Well, it just so happens that I am remarkably free. As your dear elder sibling, it is the least I can do for you, Resh.”

With that, they glided from the office before Resh could stop them, leaving him standing with his hand grasping at air.

They sighed.

-<◇>-

The throne room was easily the largest chamber of the Palace, with a throne built to match—a deliberate choice on Resh's part, during its construction all those years ago. Looking the part was half the battle, and what better way to show your kingliness than by being five times the size of Elder Tsadi, he had said. Which Alef now was, having shifted in size to full height as they approached the throne room. The guards at the entrance snapped to attention, and he nodded in greeting as he passed through.

Near the far wall was the diminutive figure of the researcher, their head craned back to take in the full view of the mural displayed there. Two guards flanked them, ensuring they didn't go anywhere they weren't supposed to be. Alef cleared their throat, the sound echoing to every nook and cranny due to the chamber's acoustics, and every person in the room jumped. The guards soon lined up and stood at attention, and the rogue researcher turned to look at him as he took his place on the throne. One guard said something quietly to them, and the researcher nodded, brushed out their robe, and walked forward beside the guards.

“So this is the spirit who requested an audience with Us?” Alef intoned, glancing down at the guard who escorted them, and they nodded timidly. His eyes returned to the spirit, noting that, even with the crest typical of the Vault's senior members, they barely surpassed most of the guards in height. Despite this huge difference in size between them and himself, they barely trembled.

How interesting.

“We permit you to speak, spirit.”

They bowed in acknowledgment, and upon straightening, called out, “Your Majesty, I must urge you to reconsider this Dark Matter Bioweapon project! Light creatures are our friends. They do not deserve to be treated like mere tools, to be used up and cast aside!”

Alef tilted their head to the side thoughtfully, taking their chin between their thumb and index finger.

“...What is your name, star?”

“My name is Tav, Your Majesty. Head of the Vault's research into light creatures.”

“I see.” They leaned forward, casting their shadow over Tav. “Tell Us, Tav. This project is intended to better the kingdom's future. If light creatures are our friends, do they not owe this kingdom their aid, in whatever form we require?”

Tav stepped forward, their hands balling up at their sides.

“There must be a better way than this! Whatever future that project holds is worse than one where we treat the light creatures as our allies. I know it! Please, Your Majesty, let me show you.”

How very interesting.

And exactly what they needed.

Alef steepled their fingers before them, resting their elbows on the armrests of the throne. A sly grin formed on his face. Though it was hidden by their mask, Tav seemed to sense its presence, because they took an involuntary step back.

“We have an offer for you, Tav.”

At the same time, they called out to their sibling and requested their presence in the throne room.

-<◇>-

Resh sighed as they walked.

At one point, the magnificent tapestries and luminous murals decorating the walls of the throne room had brought him such joy. But that had been many, many years ago—too many to count. Now they were just another feature of the brilliant, intricate, boringthrone room, easily ignored in favor of dealing with the unwelcome researcher currently standing before the throne. The reason they had been called away from their work by their sibling.

“Ah, there you are,” Alef said from their spot on the throne. They turned back to the spirit. “Resh is Our Will, you see. They are the one who approved the project. Now, We will send a message to the Vault requesting that they do not proceed with the project until We permit. You have until then to persuade Resh of the truth of your words.”

...What?

The two of them turned, and Resh winced when he realized he had spoken aloud.

“Forgive me, Your Majesty. I was just wondering what this task you have given me is.”

“Ah, of course. You see, Resh, Tav here would like to show Us that light creatures should not be used in the Dark Matter Bioweapon project. However, We have our duties to contend with, and so cannot leave the Palace for such a matter. You, on the other hand, are Our Will, and so We have decided that you shall go in Our stead.”

Even from this distance, and even with the mask hiding their face, Resh could feel the gleeful smugness radiating from Alef like heat from a flame. Their most venomous thoughts, directed like psychic arrows at their twin, only increased the smugness, and so, narrowing their eyes, they bowed courteously to the researcher—Tav, was it?

“As you wish, Your Majesty. When shall we be departing?”

“I assume Tav here needs some time to prepare their case. We shall permit them a day to do so. On the morrow, you shall follow after them to...?”

“Oh, uh, Daylight Prairie, Your Majesty.”

“Daylight Prairie. I can see why you chose to do your research there.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Tav said, bowing deeply before leaving with their escorts.

When they were gone, Resh unleashed the full force of their glare at Alef, folding their arms before their chest.

“What are you plotting?”

“Why, nothing! Simply giving you the rest you deserve,” they said, rising from the throne. “Now, if you'll excuse me, I do believe there is paperwork with my name on it. Don't be late for the boat tomorrow, Resh. It would reflect poorly on Us.”

With that, they waved and left, shrinking back down to a more manageable size as they went. Resh watched them go, scowling and boring holes into the back of their head.

Then he sighed and returned to the royal quarters to rest and prepare appropriate clothing for this farce.

Alef would pay for this.

-<◇>-

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12

#sky children of the light #sky #sky king #resh #resh my beloved /j #hi this fic is technically to blame for the bones thing last night #i'm very sorry #i thought of some potential headcanons and then it spiraled out of control #author's note: a pizaine (also spelled pixane) is a type of armor also called a standard or mantle #while in our world it's made of leather or chainmail #in the sky kingdom they seem to make them out of stone as seen on various spirits

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varyen · 4 years ago

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as heavy as the snow falls (i fall for you)

„Hello Detective. I am Connor, the Android sent by CyberLife.“ The android sent to replace me, you think but it’s not what you say. Instead, you look up from your $1 instant noodles, and freeze. Oh god, you think. Oh god, fuck. They made it CUTE.

Chapter One; It's just another day to pretend (I’m feeling okay)

Hank had warned you.

“They sent one of those plastic pricks to help investigate that deviant shit”, he had told you.

You just thought he was messing with you, a good old joke to welcome you back. That was until you were officially allowed to get back to work;

you had annoyed your doctor into releasing you from sick-leave and partly got what you wanted — except that you were stuck on desk-duty. But that was better than being stuck at home. You never thought you’d be sick of your apartment walls but there you were.

After almost two and a half months, you finally walked back into the precinct.

Gavin was the first one to give that face — an ugly smirk, splitting open his mouth and showing his teeth, like a warning, like a threat. He didn’t say anything — he didn’t have to. That smirk alone, creepy enough to give you goose bumps, told you everything you need to know.

Hank didn’t mess with you. They sent an Android to replace you in your own investigation.

“Glad to see you’re back”, Gavin greeted you, though, and you forced a smile at your desk-partner. “Were you getting bored without me?”, you asked and tried to forget the obnoxious smirk he had thrown at you just a second ago. “You know me, baby”, he laughed and slapped on your shoulder. He disappeared behind you and you were left unguarded without any distraction. Everybody was staring at you and you weren’t sure if those looks were painted in relief or pity.

Silently you sat down at your desk, towers of paper stacked everywhere, and started to work. A few of your colleagues stopped by, asking how you were doing, being shot multiple times and all, and that they were happy you were back safe and sound – they didn’t say anything about Hank, or the Android. Their eyes, though, their eyes betrayed them.

Fowler called you in an hour later or so, asking how you do — not that he’d really care, anyway — before sending you back to work. He didn’t say a word about Hank, or the Android. His eyes did.

Nothing has happened since.

Now, it’s almost one pm and desk duty is more boring that you anticipated — so boring, in fact, that you decide to take your break. Usually Gavin and you keep each other entertained and airdrop each other memes out of the nowhere but he’s nowhere to be seen. Also, you’re hungry as shit, as you skipped the breakfast this morning. Not only because you overslept but you’re also not really a breakfast person.

There is no sign of Hank or that infamous Android so you decide to shrug it off and bury your concerns under the $1 instant noodles you got stored in the lowest drawer of your desk; your emergency food and snack box, as you like to call it. Sometimes Gavin raids it when he feels like it but he has kept his promise about not telling anyone about your emergency food and snack box — so far.

And while it’s generally not too bad to have him right in front of you most of the time, he’s the person you want to avoid the most because, honestly, you don’t need his mockery and you are not in the mood to endure that stupid smirk one more time. There is a possibility that you just try to punch it off his face.

He did leave the precinct when you entered it, so he’s probably off at some crime-scene.

You glance towards the empty Break Room and see your chance. You take one of the spicy chicken instant noodles, your all-time favorite, and speed as fast into the Break Room as your body allows you to; it’s still heavy sometimes and your movements are slowed by pain and stiffness.

Nobody disturbs you while you prepare the kettle and get a can of coke out of the fridge. The only sound remarkable to you is the news channel and by now the threat of a war outbreak has become too old to still be shocking.

You take your phone and skip through your messages, ignoring most of them except the ones from your mom to which you reply yes mom, work is going great so far. I’m stuck at desk-duty until my doctor gives me the green light, before you switch to your social media.

Caught up in some memes, you only notice Hank when he’s standing right in front of you.

“Listen kid”, he says, shrugging. “I didn’t ask for this either.” His voice sounds grumpy and unhappy and he looks like he just got out of bed which wouldn’t be a surprise, actually, and he still reeks a bit of beer.

And with that said, he leaves you alone again and you stay behind, slightly dumbfounded and just unnecessarily more confused than you already are. Why do they all behave like you’re already fired because some stupid robot took your cases?! Fuck them. As if there isn’t enough shit going on in Detroit. You could go back to work on the Red Ice cases with Gavin; Red Ice cases have everything you want – adrenalin, excitement, relentless pursuits, the subtle threat of danger and you get to bust high wanted criminals. The only thing that makes you avoid Gavin’s Red Ice cases is, in fact, Gavin himself.

It’s not like you don’t like Gavin; he is your desk-partner so you’re kind of forced to like him and you know you can count on him, he did save your life after all, and you like discussing the latest gossip with him — nobody would ever think that he is such a gossip bitch — and not only did he message you multiple times during the last weeks to make sure you’re good, he also stayed in the hospital until you woke up.

It’s just … It’s Reed, he’s a dickhead most of the time, and is only relaxed after he got laid or had at least 3.5 beers.

“The fuck’s going on”, you mutter under your breath. You’re annoyed and by now a thick, gray thunder cloud has formed over your head. Frustrated you stare into the still half-filled cup in front of you; that’s a very you thing to do – looking for answers in ramen soup.

„Hello Detective. I am Connor, the Android sent by CyberLife.“

The android sent to replace me, you think but it’s not what you say. Instead, you look up from your $1 instant noodles, and freeze.

Oh god, you think. Oh god, fuck. They made it CUTE.

For a moment, all you can do is stare at the Android in front of you; his innocent, deep eyes with just the right amount of honesty and the sparkle for fair justice within them, the faint freckles on his nose and the friendly, but still kind of forced smile on his lips — it looks a smile you’d give to Gavin sometimes. His LED blinks yellow for a second and you realize that that son of a bitch scanned you; you bite down a sneaky comment on how rude that is — he probably doesn’t know any better, you decide and you swallow the mean comment down before it can escape your mouth.

“Hi, Connor”, you manage to blur out instead. “You probably heard of me.” As you took all my open cases, thank you very much.

“Yes, I have. I am sorry to hear that you were fatally shot eleven weeks and three days ago. I am glad to see you recovered.” He smiles that forced smile again — seriously, where the hell did he pick that one up?! — and you raise your eyebrows at the weirdly accurate time span. “You are the Detective to have worked on the cases concerning Deviants before, correct?”

You take the still half-filled cup of instant noodles and throw them away, suddenly not hungry anymore.

“Correct”, you reply. “That was before I was shot. Seems like Hank and you took these cases.”

His LED flickers again, probably analyzing the darker tone hidden in your friendly voice and it seems like he wants to say something but Gavin interrupts him. “Seems like you have met your replacement, he?!”, he laughs in your face and slaps Connor hard on the back, way harder than necessary, and the Android is forced to move a step forwards.

“Fuck off Reed”, you mutter. You are absolutely not in the mood for his games. He laughs and the sound rings in your ears in an almost obnoxious way.

“I must correct you, Detective Reed. I am not anyone’s replacement”, Connor says, his voice neutral and even, like the voice of an Android is supposed to be. “Sure, you plastic fucker”, Gavin snorts. “Just stay the fuck away from me, got it?” — “For heaven’s sake, Gavin, leave it alone”, you sigh and shake your head. “It ain’t do anything to you personally. Take your issues out on someone else.”

Gavin throws a dark glare at you, one that says he’d wished you got shot with one more bullet, before releasing Connor from his hard grip and leaving the Break Room, cursing under his breath.

“Don’t mind him”, you say to Connor, shaking your head. “He likes to provoke.”

Connor tilts his head to the side. “Most humans are uncomfortable in the presence of Androids. Just as you, Detective.”

You cough. “Gavin isn’t uncomfortable, he’s just an asshole.”

You decide to ignore what he said about you — he’s partly right —but only partly, though you don’t feel like emphasizing this right now.

You yourself never had an Android, and you never saw why anyone would need one — that was until your parents had that car accident, your father died and your mother was left paralyzed and with only one arm. It was either giving up the job you love so much and not being able to afford literally anything, or getting an Android who would take care of her. You went for the latter option and it’s not like you regret it; the Android they recommend you at the CyberLife store is actually pretty sweet and sends you regular updates about your mother whenever she herself can’t find the strength to check on you. When you got shot and were in the hospital, it was the first time you felt truly thankful having that Android around — an AP something model, you don’t know jack shit about it. Your mother named her Hope. Thinking about it hurts you only a little.

You throw yourself back into reality and realize you have been just staring at Connor the past minute or so. You cough again, now being uncomfortable, and try to keep the red flash on your cheeks hidden.

“Do you already have a desk, Connor?”, you ask, changing the topic without even trying to be subtle.

“Yes, I use the one in front of Lieutenant Anderson.”

You stare over to Hank who is watching you with a certain glow in his eyes. “Of course”, you say, looking away from Hank and back at Connor. “Look”, you start, and shrug, “I’m on desk-duty for the next few weeks and officially off the cases anyway. They’re all yours, so I’ll transfer you all I have, evidence and personal notes I made. Maybe you’re luckier than me.” You shrug and leave the Break Room, leaving that Android, Connor, behind.

Obviously you are not happy to give up your open cases — you did work hard on them and all the evidence you collected wasn’t exactly easy to gather. Deviancy is a fresh and new thing and you were excited to be the Detective to figure it out. Then you got shot by some asshole because you grew too confident and thought you could take them on your own. You almost had to pay with your life for your cockiness, so maybe it’s better this way, you suppose.

Gavin doesn’t say anything to you when you sit down at your desk and stare blankly at the screen for a moment, not knowing what you’re supposed to do. Most paperwork is done and all your open cases have been reassigned. Seems like you’ll go back to investigate robberies.

You sigh deeply and send all the files and evidence you got saved on your terminal over to Hank before leaning back in your chair.

“Sorry for snapping at you earlier, Gav”, you say to Gavin who just rumbles something under his breath without looking at you. Without thinking about it, you open your emergency food and snack box, take the package of garlic bread and throw it at Gavin.

“Why don’t you have a piece of bread and maybe you’ll come down”, you laugh at him and now you at least get an annoyed grin. “Fuck you”, he says and you laugh.

“Hey”, he says then, “Tina told me about a series of robberies downtown. You should take those cases. It ain’t nothing too wild and it might get you back in shape.” He rips open the package.

You stare at him for a few seconds before realizing that you are indeed back on robberies. Great!

You sigh deeply.

“Sure”, is all you say and Gavin is smart enough to stay quiet, silently munching his garlic bread.

The excitement you felt this morning about going back to work has made room for nothing but frustration.

It’s eating you from the inside out, turns your lungs around and for a second you can feel the holes the bullets left in your body.

This week is starting great.

read on ao3.

#i am VERY much stuck in dbh hell again #cant blame me #detroit become meme #dbh #detroit become human fanfiction #detroit become human fanfic #detroit become human fic #dbh fanfic #dbh fic #dbh connor #connor rk800 #connor x reader #reader insert #my writing #hank anderson #hank detroit become human #gavin reed #gavin detroit become human

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imagineofallkindsxxx · 4 years ago

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Eternal Flame- Kol Mikaelson 4/?

Chapter 2- And Here I Thought We Were Getting Along.

Summary: 'You never know whats in a persons heart until you truly know them' - Belle French, Once Upon a Time

Singing. Thats all what Alexandra Gilbert has cared about since she was young and all she would care about until she met him.

With Alexandra fighting vampires, werewolves and all between she may do a thing she vowed never to do, fall in love.

And to think it all started with a walk in the woods...

WC: 2909

I came here for a good time not to get abused by a psychotic hybrid and watch one of my good friends get their necks snapped. Wasn't on my todays to do list, let me explain what happened next.

"Ah Dana, why don’t you relax? You and Chad sit tight." How gracious of you, you psycho I thought no way in hell am I being sarcastic to the scary hybrid maniac again, I quite like my head attached to my body. "I assume you’re the reason Elena's still walking around alive?" The psycho question Bonnie

"That’s right. If you want someone to blame, blame me" Bon I love you but let’s not commit suicide by placing blame on yourself.

"Oh, there's no need for blame, love. just you and your witchy interference seems to have caused some undesirable side effects." He told her making me thank whatever god that he won't kill a friend of mine well so I thought. "And since you caused the problem, I’m going to have you find the fix." Wonderful, fan-fucking-tastic.

Before anyone was able to come back with a comment a blonde girl dressed in a pretty outfit came through the doors the opposite side of the hall with her dragging Tyler. Oh, this is getting better and better.

"Get off of me!" Ty yelled at the blonde but I have an inkling that just yelling that isn’t going to work.

"Hush now" the blonde said to Tyler hearing her speak with the same accent as the psycho essentially holding the rest of us captive, wonderful.

"I'd like you all to meet my sister. word of warning... she can be quite mean." He said teasing his sister clearly annoying the girl.

"Don't be an ass" before throwing Ty in to the hybrids arm. I like her all things considered.

"Leave him alone!" Elena yelled futile. I mean did she really think that was going to work.

"I'm going to make this very simple... every time I attempt to turn a werewolf into a vampire they die during transition. It’s quite horrible actually." The psycho hybrid informs us before biting into his wrist and making ty drink his blood which I can say from experience isn’t a great experience. "I need you to find a way to save my hybrids bonnie and for Tyler’s sake... you better hurry" before snapping his neck killing him.

"Jesus!" I yelled instinctively as Klaus smiles at us creepily. What is happening to this town, now not only is the sheriffs’ kid essentially dead but the mayors as well. Wonderful

Matt dropped down to the floor looking at Tyler almost in tears staring at his best friend before saying "He killed him".

"He's not dead, Klaus blood will turn him into a vampire" I informed Matt with a hand on his shoulder attempting to comfort the quarter back.

"And if Bonnie is successful, he will live through transition. Go on then. Go and fetch your grimoires and enchantments and what-not. I'll hold onto Elena and Her" he said pointing at me "for safe keeping" fantastic I’m leverage now. I should have taken up Sam’s offer to give me a ride back home. Bonnie looks apprehensive to leave so I shout

"Bon just go we'll be fine? I assume so anyway." But she seemed more focused on Elena what a shocker and when got the okay from her left. Once it was just the six of us Rebekah came up to my sister looking her up and down.

"So, this is the latest doppelganger. The original one was much prettier" I’m not going to lie that moment seemed to be the only good thing that had been said since I left the boys.

"Enough Rebekah. Take the wolf boy and her somewhere, would you?" Her brother told her like she was the dog not him.

"And here was me thinking we were getting on" I said to the hybrid in an innocent tone. I saw the blonde give a small smirk in the corner of my eye before grabbing Tyler by the t-shirt he was wearing and me roughly by the arm.

"God what is it with this family and being rough. Keep it inside the bedroom will you."

Rebekah dragged me and a now dead Tyler away from the gym hall and to the chemistry class. Mr Jones.

"NO" I shouted the top of my lungs where the vampire stopped and looked at me funnily. "You walk through that door and you'll be washing confetti out your hair until next year. trust me I rigged it myself." She gave me a confused look "Senior prank night" where she gave a nod in realization before moving into the class next door which was prank free luckily.

I saw Caroline knocked out, Rebekah throwing Tyler down beside her. I didn't have to question what happened to Caroline the angle of her neck was enough besides its bad enough having an original watching you like a hawk but an angry one... don't even want to think what the blonde would be like when angry. She sat down on one side of the class me at the other with Caroline lying next to me, my phone starts made a noise to indicate a text my main bet it is Sam to see if I’m home safe.

"what is that?" the blonde asked confused by the contraption in my hands.

"It’s an iPhone?" I questioned back where has she been the past decade "Have you never seen one before?"

"Obviously I haven't, I wouldn’t have asked if I had" she snapped back

"Okay, relax. I'm just going to text my friend that I’m fine, okay?" Trying to calm her down a bit not wanting to cause an angry original. I contemplated sending an SOS then thought I would just be putting him in danger as well, dealing with this bull shit is enough I don’t want Sam dragged into it.

"What’s a text?" Jesus she really doesn't know anything about technology. Where has Klaus been keeping her?

"It’s like a letter only you can send it on this device. look I'll show you." I told her crawling over next to her "I'm texting my friend that I’m safe. so, I type it in to the bar here from the keyboard here" I was explaining it as best as possible for her whilst also replying to the text. Once I taught her that she must have heard vibrating because she heard Caroline’s phone. She picked it up and started to go through her phone, I'm still trying to teach her the basics of a phone. such as I just taught her how to take a selfie and it seems to keep her amused.

"Thank you. I'm sorry I never caught your name?" Rebekah asked kindly which is quite unusual for a borderline kidnapper.

"Uh, its Alexandra but call me Alex, Alexandra sounds so formal even from a millennial old vampire" giving a little laugh that she mirrored. "So, Klaus is your brother, must be ... eventful?"

She gave out a laugh "That's one word for it. Me and my brother have a complicated relationship." She told me smiling at me "I overheard your sisters with the doppelganger?" She questioned about Elena causing me to roll my eyes "Not a fan I take it."

"You could say that. Just like you and Klaus our relationship is complicated."

"If only families were easy"

I went to reply in agreement until I heard groaning coming from the direction Caroline was lying in making me snap my head quick enough to give me whiplash.

"Care" I rushed to her side "Are you okay? How's the neck?" I asked quickly making sure my friend was okay and in the right mind set for what she is about to see. From behind me I could hear the British voice I have grown used to in the past hour.

"We didn't have mobile telephones in my day. Would have made life a lot easier I suppose." Ending with taking a selfie which I smirked at. Caroline didn't have time to engage in conversation about her phone or wellbeing being more concerned about her boyfriend.

"Where's Tyler?" In a panic Rebekah answered her question calmly.

"He's dead. ish" Moving a bit to let Caroline have visual of her dead not so dead boyfriend.

"What did you do to him?" Caroline was starting to get a bit angry and I'm not sure if I want to see a fight between these two from such close proximity.

"Think of it as he's having a nap. When he wakes up, hell he a hybrid." Rebekah informed her

"Klaus turned him, Caroline. His hybrids are failing and we need Bonnie to find a spell to make sure Ty is a success and well lives." I told her giving her the run down of what is happening.

Nevertheless she races up and put her head to his chest to try and find a heart beat. While watching Caroline trying to wake Tyler hopelessly Rebekah was swiping through the photos she had taken with the help of yours truly before coming across a cute picture of Elena and Stefan

"Ugh. Vomit." She said disgusted by the picture before seeing something familiar in the picture and not just Stefan. She zoomed in to the neckless Elena wore since a few days in their relationships before getting up and turning to me shouting "Why is that doppelganger bitch wearing my necklace?!" making me jump a bit.

"Your necklace? That’s the necklace Stefan gave Elena at the beginning of their relationship. How is it your necklace?" I retorted confused on how Elena managed to get a necklace from a vampire whose been in a box for ninety years.

she stormed out of the class with me following slowly compared to her you know seeing as she’s a vampire and all. She marched into the gym hall towards my sister

"Where is it?!? Where is my necklace?" Shouting at Elena to give her necklace to the proper owner.

"What are you talking about?" Asked Rebekah’s big brother confused looking between me and his sister. Giving him the phone, she showed him the picture of the couple with Rebekah’s necklace.

"She has my necklace. Look."

"Well, well, more lies" he replies looking at Elena and Stefan.

"Where... is it?" Rebekah asks slowly and honestly her being somewhat calm is even more terrifying than her furious.

"I don't have it anymore" Elena tells the original which she finds unsatisfactory.

"Your lying!" she bellows before biting Elena’s neck which then Klaus pulls her off and takes her over to the side.

"Knock it off!" Klaus warns his little sister but she isn't backing down that easily, it was her necklace for nine centuries to be fair.

"Make her tell me where it is Nik!" she whines to her brother convincing the hybrid to talk to the doppelganger.

"Where's the necklace, sweet heart? Be honest" trying to convince her to tell them where the necklace is

"I'm telling the truth. Katherine stole it." Elena defends herself, first time for everything I suppose.

"Of course it would be that bitch." I muttered the same time as Klaus yells out dramatically,

"If we had the necklace, it would make things a whole lot easier for your witch, but since we're doing this the hard way, let's put a clock on it, shall we?" Declaring that he was putting a time on this, setting the dreadful noise of the gym clock buzzes and it’s set to twenty minutes stop clock. After this he begins to compel Stefan "Twenty minutes. If Bonnie hasn't found a solution by then, I want you to feed again. Only this time, I want you to feed on Elena. You know you want to." Oh, fantastic my sister is going to be a drained blood bag if Bon doesn’t find the right spell out of thousand within 20 minutes. Wonderful.

"No, Klaus! don't do this to him!" My sister yells. When is she going to get it through her thick head that these are the Salvatore’s or Katherine these are thee vampires, they don’t take orders from a human even if they are a Petrova doppelganger.

"No one leaves. If she tries to run, fracture her spine".

"Oh how delightful" I muttered.

Rebekah grabs my arm albeit gentler this time taking me away with her and Klaus.

"No! Alex! Let her go please!" I hear Elena beg for my life, which although we are sisters is a nice feeling that she remembered about me.

"Oh love, don't worry your precious Alex will be quite alright with my dear sister." Klaus retorts before walking through the doors to go out to the corridor. "I'm sorry your brought into all this sweet heart." Klaus apologise not even sounding a tad sincere.

"Yeah, let’s just say next time I’m offered a ride I’ll be taking it. rather not get brought into my sisters mess again" this makes Rebekah smirk as we depart ways from her brother to head towards the class we left Caroline and Tyler in.

After a long seventeen awkward minutes with the two blondes sitting opposite sides of the rooms me in the middle being a barrier of sorts but as soon as it hit the three minute left mark Tyler woke up making me race towards the werewolf turned hybrid

"Where am I? What happened?" Tyler questioned the two of us, seeing Rebekah and looking extremely confused

"Tyler" Caroline began but Rebekah interrupted before she could say anymore

"Don't be shy about it."

"What’s going on?" Tyler still and rightly so confused I would be as well if I woke up in a class from a broken neck with three females two vampires.

"Klaus is turning you into a vampire. A hybrid. You’re in transition" Caroline starts off being kind and leaving the hard bits out.

"Don’t leave the hard bits out sweets. you-" but I cut her off

"You'll only live if Bonnie is successful but if she doesn't find a solution then... you'll die" I told him trying to block out any emotion that would rub off on to him and Caroline but not succeeding seeming stressed and upset.

"You’re going to be okay. Okay? It's going to be okay." Caroline says not only trying to convince Tyler but herself also.

"I wonder how she's doing." Showing us the time left on her clock only being two minutes "Tick Tok goes the gym clock."

I look upset and stressed I step outside in the hallway leaving the couple to have a moment but Rebekah follows "I'm sorry, Alex. I don't know what I'd do if someone tried to hurt my brothers the way you are. I'm so sorry" her apology seeming to be more sincere compared to her brothers earlier. I nodded in thanks not wanting to seem remotely weak. Tyler will live. He has to.

I breathe in and out steadying my heart rate before going back into the class where Caroline and Tyler are situated obviously upset, nervous and worried from the look on their face. But after a few minutes and most likely the death of my sister which brings tears to my eyes an unlikely hero comes to save the day and that person is Klaus Mikaelson.

"Well verdicts in. The original witch says the doppelganger should be dead." Making me deflate tears finally running down my cheeks at the thought of my sister dying. I may not have seen eye to eye with her but she was still my sister.

"Does that mean we get to kill her?" Seeming happy until she seems me and then tries to hide her excitement failing in doing so.

"No, I’m fairly certain it means the opposite." He tell his sister

"Wait Elena is alive?" I question the hybrid in which he ignores but putting two and two together I breathe in a sigh of relief that my twin sister is alive.

"What?!?" Rebekah exclaims also being partly ignored by her brother. She pulls Caroline and myself back so we don’t interrupt any process of what will happen such as Klaus feeding my friend my sisters’ blood out of a small test tube.

"Elena’s blood drink it"

"Tyler no!" Caroline yells in warning

"Caroline! He’s dead either way!" Giving her a pleading look if she can be quiet and let this psycho feed him Elena’s blood.

"At least we can agree on something sweet heart" He says talking to me making me glare at him.

After a struggle Tyler finally drinks the blood in the test tube.

"There we go good boy"

"He isn't a dog" I snarked towards the original which he returned with a glare with the same amount of malice I sent him.

"And here was me thinking we were getting along" mirrorring my words earlier.

Once Tyler had finished drinking her blood he coughs and falls to the floor from rolling about on the desk that he was lying on. He was screaming and groaning before he holds his head and screams so loud it hurts my normal human ears. his face finally changes: His eyes are golden and he has fangs along with veins under his eyes just like a vampire. I glanced at Caroline worriedly when Klaus said.

"Well, that's a good sign"

**************************************

A/N: long chapter for me anyway.

Again hope there's not too mistakes e.g. grammar, spelling, Americanisms.

if you have anything to say please don't hestitate to comment. I appreciate all positive and negative feedback

Next chapter is really a tad of her relationship with the boys and part of the next episode.

Thanks for reading Lovelies xxx

#kol mikaelson imagine #kol mikaelson x you #kol mikaelson x reader #kol mikaelson #kol mikaelson series #the vampire diaries imagine #the originals imagine

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my-happy-little-bean · 3 years ago

Text

The Bookkeeper – Chapter 5

Chapter 5: The Signature Of All Things

pairings: logicality, prinxiety words: 3453 chapter warnings: mild existentialism chapter summary: talks of philosophy, tea, and a smidge of jealousy.

[read on ao3] [masterlist]

< previous chapter

–

Fray and Far Fables was filled with flowers.

It was clear that there had been some attempt to hide them, but the flowers were indeed there. Daisies squirmed between the floorboards, pink and lilac petals were flattened under rugs, and strings of ivy were draping off of the shelves.

And in the middle of the store was Patton and Roman.

Logan watched, amused, as Patton stuffed his hands into his overall pockets upon hearing the door open. Grass strands and petals fell down his sides as he smiled sheepishly.

“Oh! Logan! You’re...back early!”

“I am actually on time, Patton.” He looked pointedly at Roman, who had formed his magic into a small broom and began idly whistling as he swept up some more petals under rugs. “It seems more like you both lost track of time.”

“Something like that!” Patton rubbed the back of his neck. “How was the play?”

Logan smiled warmly. “It was brilliant. Annie Baker is such a profound playwright. Her expertise in dialogue, the impact of the silence she marked throughout– The Aliens was such a joy. I would love to take you to the next show, I believe it’s playing again next week…”

“Wow, Specs. Forgot how much of a theatre kid you are.”

Logan stuck out his tongue at Roman. Patton, on the other hand, just grinned even wider.

“I am really happy you’re enjoying all of your art- ventures!”

Logan’s smile faltered. “Well, I wouldn’t say...all…”

“Look, I already apologized for the pottery class– how was I supposed to know that a kids birthday party was happening on that day! Plus, you got such a nice bowl out of it!”

Logan snuck a glance at his messed up attempt at a bowl, sitting on one of his shelves. The sides were lopsided—which was a generous way of saying broken—and there was a chip in its rim. He winced.

“If ‘nice’ is synonymous with ‘mess’...then sure.”

“And speaking of mess!” Patton gestured around the scattered flora in the shop. “Sorry for the...well, mess.”

“Don’t apologize! Adventures get messy, padré!” Roman cut Logan off before he could even speak. Roman threw his broom up and jumped to land on the handle, gliding through the air like he was surfing. Logan rolled his eyes.

“That’s quite alright, Patton. It seems like you both had a pleasant time.”

“We did! I think this one has to be my favourite one yet!”

Logan bit his tongue. Patton had been saying that for every book nook he had visited, and this had to have been his fifth one now. Still, he couldn’t seem to grow tired of the bright glow Patton always brought back to his home.

So he nodded along as Patton recalled his and Roman’s latest adventure. Patton was as lively as ever, animatedly telling the story of boundless scenery and endless amounts of peace and solitude.

At one point in the conversation, Logan even closed his eyes and magically summoned his tea tray from his room to the coffee table in the shop. He hoped that doing so wouldn’t interrupt Patton, but it caught his attention immediately. Roman was especially stunned by the act.

“You still seem to have it in you, huh?” Roman said, half-teasingly and half-impressed. He tipped over his own cup of sugar as Patton stared at Logan, starry-eyed.

“I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you do that before!” Patton added on.

Logan shrugged it off as if it were nothing, but was secretly astounded himself. It didn’t feel new, but it didn’t feel like it was always something he could do either. He had gone on several of Patton’s acclaimed ‘art-ventures’—museums, art classes, a concert for the local orchestra, and now this play—and every week this feeling had only grown.

It felt...refreshing. Something within him must have made a reappearance.

Patton continued his story between sips of tea.

“The book was about this young couple running away from their town and moving to a house on a hill! It was Roman’s choice, so it makes sense that it was so good.”

Logan raised his eyebrow at Roman. “I’ve noticed you’ve been reading a lot of books like that nowadays.”

Roman laughed. “The book interested Patton more than it interested me–” He winked at Logan– “but I could see its escapist value.”

“Mere observation,” Logan murmured, studying Roman’s face for any trace of mockery, but it seemed rather honest. Logan pocketed the thought — perhaps one for later.

“It was so beautiful, Lo. Clear skies, all these flowers…” Patton sighed dreamily. “I could’ve stayed there forever.”

“But you can’t,” Logan reminded him. Patton playfully rolled his eyes, nudging Logan.

“But I can’t,” he echoed back, smiling brightly at him. Soft chills ran through Logan’s spine. It felt like flowers were blossoming within him, weaving themselves through his vertebrae and making him melt into springtime madness.

A familiar feeling with Patton nowadays, he noted.

“Did you end up painting something?” Logan managed to say, taking a long sip of tea. Patton’s eyes lit up.

“Yes! Oh, thank you for reminding me!”

Patton flew off his seat and dashed to the counter. Logan exchanged a look with Roman who just shrugged with a knowing smile.

Patton returned with a rather sizeable canvas and turned it around to face Logan, who gasped.

Sprawled on the canvas was a scene that Logan swore was plucked right out of the air and put on paper. In his immediate line of sight was a hill of bright green with flowery dashes of orange, yellow, blue, and purple struck upon the grass. It looked like you could lie down in each patch and sink right through the canvas.

At the centre line of the painting were some darker shades of green and brown making up trees of various sizes — taller from the left side of the painting and narrowing down as Logan’s vision panned across the canvas. Beside the trees was a small house, and beside the house was the faint outline of two dark silhouettes next to a clothesline. The silhouettes wore dresses that lifted slightly in the wind.

And in the background were those bright blue skies, outstretching far beyond the confinements of the piece, going past mountains smoking clouds.

He could feel the valley wind rush past him just looking at Patton’s painting. He could feel each footstep he would take into each fuzzy patch of flowers. He could feel everything.

Logan felt himself zoom back to reality and locked eyes with Patton.

“I…” For some odd reason, his research question echoed in his head.

‘ Is this what it’s all for?’

“What do you think?” Patton’s voice edged with anticipation. Roman looked oddly unsettled by Logan’s silence. Logan, on the other hand, felt as if so many voices were swarming his head.

‘Art…Escapism…’

“Lo?”

‘It’s...it’s to feel...to be transported...to be–’

“I’m blown away, Patton,” Logan breathed out. It felt like sparks were firing off in his chest. “This...this is incredible.”

Patton’s shoulders loosened as he broke into a wide, rosy smile.

“Ah! Thank you! I worked on it for– oh gosh, like probably half the day! I haven’t ever painted for that long in...well, a long time! And I certainly haven’t finished something in one go in even longer!”

“It’s incredible,” Logan said, echoing himself and lost in his amazement.

“That’s what I told him!” Roman said, patting Patton on the shoulder and flying over to the front of the painting. He pretended to stroll through it. “Took a page right out of the book...nook!”

Patton giggled, still bright red. The warm hue must have radiated off of Patton and grazed Logan’s cheeks, which burned similarly.

“It’s not hard to get in such a flow state in those book nooks.” Patton stared wistfully at the painting, as if trying to go back. “I haven’t been this inspired since...forever.”

“How long have you been doing this sort of stuff?” Roman asked idly, floating back down to the tea tray and taking more sips of sugar. “I’m curious as to where a great mind such as yourself found its running start!”

Patton laughed. “It really isn’t anything special, Roman. Plus I don’t want to bore anyone–”

“You could never,” Logan blurted out. He felt the two’s stares burn right through him. “I...I would enjoy a story, Patton.”

Patton smiled, softer than usual. He leaned the canvas against the side of the armchair and sat back down.

“Well, I’ve been drawing since... forever, really!” He sipped his tea and stared out the window. “My favourite kind of art used to be scrapbooking– I would help my mom with decorating photo albums and eventually, I would make scrapbooks out of stuff I drew.”

“That’s precious ,” Roman beamed. “Imagine the nook you can open out of that!”

“I know! I wish I had kept some before I moved out.”

“I didn’t know you used to do collages, Patton,” Logan chimed in. Patton shrugged.

“It was the art style I liked the most, but one of my professors had challenged me to start making something of my own. It was a real slow start, though. I have always known how to take things that already exist and make them into something new — but I never really knew how to...well, make something new..”

Logan furrowed his brow. For some strange reason, he longed for his notebook. Patton’s words felt like they were moving the puzzle pieces in his head closer and closer together–

In a small spark of navy smoke, his notebook and pen appeared on his lap with a small pop!

Logan blinked at it. ‘Did I…’

He felt a pair of eyes on him. Like a deer in headlights, he lifted his head up and locked eyes with Roman. Roman’s eyes flickered then at Patton, before moving back to Logan’s hands. He stiffened, almost...hurt. A chill ran through Logan’s spine.

“Anyway! I found my footing when I moved into this town and found your bookshop!” Patton continued, seemingly not noticing Logan’s abrupt display of magic. “I...well, I didn’t really have any friends around here so I was doing a lot of exploring for inspiration. And when I found your shop, Logan, I...I don’t know! All the books I bought here were always so vivid.” Patton winked at Roman. “Now I know why!”

“What drew you to books?” Logan asked, leaning forward.

“As I said, I liked to make things out of things that already existed. Making paintings based on books – well, it was a bit of a stepping stone to that, you know?”

“But you’ve never painted a truly original piece.”

“Logan!” Roman hissed. Logan looked at him incredulously.

Patton awkwardly fiddled with his thumbs. “I mean, I don’t know if I’ve ever copied anything– I’m more so inspired by everything – but I guess in the way you frame it...no! No, not really.”

“So why do you make art, Patton?”

A beat of silence. Patton tilted his head to the side. Even Roman looked more than unsettled now. Roman’s gaze landed on Logan’s notebook. He narrowed his eyes at Logan, who cleared his throat.

“Um...I’m not sure!” Patton laughed nervously. “Never gave it much thought. But...I always liked the idea of having my art reach other people, since I’ve gotten my spark from other people. I was given something from someone, made it into something else, and wanted to keep sharing that ‘something’ around! Like– like with the book drawings, for example! Those were all for you.”

Logan felt himself draw back. “They...they were?”

“Who did you think they were for, silly?”

“I...I’m not sure. I just...I didn’t know they were made for me.”

“Well of course they were!” Patton reached over to place a hand on Logan’s knee. Sparks crackled beneath the touch. “I love painting for you.”

Logan could feel Roman staring up at him.

“You know, Albert Camus, a French philosopher, posited that art is inherently selfish,” Logan began slowly, flipping through his notebook. “The meaning of any particular form of art is rooted in his ‘logic of the absurd’ – the idea that the human condition is absurd and must hence be revolted. This makes art lack any intrinsic value, since it goes beyond making a meaningful mark on the world and instead reinforces subjective messages into other–s”

“I think we all need a translation from nerd , Logan,” Roman scoffed, though his voice edged with tension. Logan swore Roman’s aura pulsed red, telling him to stop, you don’t need to make every artist feel useless–

Logan sighed, focusing his attention on Patton.

“Essentially, Camus believed that since art was the sort of ‘carrier’ for messages that only promoted awareness of the absurd and attitudes of revolt, there is no essential meaning to it. It just forces an opinion onto someone else.”

“If I may,” Patton interjected. “I...I don’t really think art forces anything onto anyone.”

Logan raised an eyebrow. Patton simply shrugged.

“Art is our way of making sense of the world, and finding the people that understand that same– or at least, similar– sense. I don’t want to make a mark on the world, and I don’t want to give some definite answers to anything. I...I guess I make art to find where I fit, and I hope others can look at my art and find the same thing.”

Logan nodded, still not writing anything down. He could feel himself reach for more answers, as if they were tied to Patton’s very being.

“Also, Logan,” Patton added. “I think it’s interesting that you bring up Camus’ theories of absurdism – theories stating that it is impossible and thus irrelevant for someone to know or understand the meaning of anything. Wasn’t absurdism sort of Camus’ opposing response to nihilism?”

Logan’s jaw dropped. Patton took another sip of his tea and shrugged.

“I took a few philosophy classes in university.” Patton smiled brightly. “Very interesting stuff!”

Roman snorted. A puff of sugar encircled his head. Logan flushed beet red.

“Right,” he said, trying to compose himself. “So do you agree with Camus?”

“Not entirely. I think it’s hard to tie in Camus’ logic of the absurd to the meaning of art. Artistic value can’t really be reduced to just facts. It’s so much more than logical. However, absurdism as a whole has always fascinated me. If the meaning of art, let’s say, is impossible and irrelevant to understand, then you have so much space to make something out of it.”

“I just don’t understand how you are so optimistic that there is anything– that you can make something from– from nothing .” Logan exhaled a tightly-held breath, though found himself less frustrated and more curious. “Virgil Aries stated that in the constant struggle of possibility and reality, reality is always victorious, because reality is all we have. Your conception of art is so intertwined with possibility in the midst of nothing — how can you be so sure that your contributions are hence meaningful?”

Patton took a second before replying, “Do you really believe there is nothing, Logan?”

Logan blinked. The room fell quiet.

“What...what else could there be?” he murmured.

Roman’s presence darkened — quite literally, actually. Logan could feel his aura dim, as if it were sagging in defeat.

Patton, however, gave him a gentle smile.

“Do you remember when I read The Signature of All Things? Alma and Ambrose heavily considered the idea that the novel is titled after — that there is some kind of unifying principle that connects and explains all phenomena.”

Logan nodded. Patton motioned over to the canvas leaning against his armchair.

“Well, I think I’m trying to find that with my art. I’m trying to leave a signature of my own in places that can only be found if looked for — and I can only do that if I choose to believe there’s something in all the…’nothing’.”

He then shrugged, finishing his cup of tea. “But I don’t think that deeply, really. All I know is that if there is a meaning for anything out there, there’s no point in searching for it. It’s probably too big and very...restrictive. You have to make meaning for yourself, then find the places it fits.”

Logan felt dizzy with the new perspective. Janus’ words mixed with Patton’s as Logan found himself immersed in a snow globe of their thoughts.

“Art worms its way into the spaces that it can fit. And with the help of others, art– and everything it represents– is made bigger than the spaces of life they initially occupy.”

He recalled Patton’s painting.

‘Art...is to feel ...is to not escape nothing but...but rather replace it with something .’

Logan looked up at Patton once more, noticing the way he glowed under the sunlight. His words spun circles around Logan’s head like planetary orbit, and he felt the reverberation of pieces snapping together in his mind.

And here was Patton at the centre of it all, still smiling, not knowing everything yet harbouring a spirit of boundless knowledge and new perspectives. It drew him in like a moth to a flame and he didn’t quite know why, but he didn’t feel like he was in a rush to find out.

They continued to talk for the rest of the day, exchanging theories of philosophy and engaging in friendly debate. Logan found himself laughing at Patton’s anecdotes and becoming stunned by his mind. Halfway through their conversation, Logan realized that this was the first time he truly talked to Patton — and suddenly, he didn’t know how to stop.

Night brimmed the edge of the view outside the shop window, stars beginning to dot the sky. Logan and Patton exchanged one last laugh before Patton stood up, gathering his things.

“Please take the painting, Lo,” Patton said, holding up the canvas to him.

“I cannot seriously begin to understand why you would want me to have this,” Logan replied honestly. “It would fare much better in a more honourable display, perhaps a local exhibit or–

Patton shook his head, grabbing Logan’s hand and guiding it to the edge of the canvas.

“It’s for you,” he said, more quiet and more soft. Logan felt almost electrified by the touch and said nothing, just tucked the canvas under his arm and nodded.

Patton turned to leave before stopping.

“Oh! Nearly forgot this!” He fished a ticket out of his bag. “This is for next week’s art -venture.”

“I insist on finding another name for what we’re doing.”

“Nope! Already branded! Roman’s making t-shirts.”

Roman nodded diligently. Logan rolled his eyes and took the ticket.

“ ‘The Rom-Com...Comeback’,” Logan read aloud. He frowned. “I am confused.”

“It’s a ‘throwback rom-com’ event at the cinema– the small one ‘round the corner!” A sheepish pause. “It’s less of an...‘intellectual’ art exploration.”

“What does that mean?”

“...It means we’re watching a movie with Adam Sandler in it.”

“Absolutely not .”

“But hijinks ensue!” Patton pleaded. “Come on, Lo. I know it’s not your usual rodeo but it is fun! And isn’t that the most important lesson that can be learned? A lesson about fun? ”

“That is a complete stretch, Patton.”

“How about I come with you? And I’ll treat you to ice cream or something.” He smiled. “Consider this me sweetening the deal.”

A pause.

“...And this is next week?”

“Ahh yay! That’s a yes!” Patton swung his arms over Logan’s shoulders before Logan could protest, wrapping him in a quick hug. “I’ll pick you up from here an hour or two before!”

“O...kay…” Logan felt his face go warm once more as Patton let go, waving at him as he left the store. The bells hanging over the door chimed as it closed.

Logan stood there, almost dumbfounded, and pocketed the ticket. He looked up at the door Patton left through and felt a smile grow on his face.

And suddenly, he wanted it to be next week.

“Well, Roman, I suppose we’re going to have to find somewhere to hang this upsta–”

He turned to face the coffee table where he assumed Roman still was, but found nothing. He frowned, looking around the shop for any trace of him.

“Roman?”

Suddenly, he heard the muffled sound of a door closing coming from upstairs. His gaze darted to the staircase and he saw a trail of red magic leading up the stairs, presumably to the bedroom. He stared at it, not knowing what to make of it and Roman’s wordless departure; but a second later, he blinked, and then caught sight of Roman’s magic fading quietly into the air.

…

(It isn’t easy, after all, to see someone glow without you.)

—

next chapter >

#TS Storytime 2021 #gabbie writes things #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfic #logicality #prinxiety #logan sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #logan/patton #roman/virgil #logic/morality #creativity/anxiety

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ladyfawkes · 4 years ago

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THIS IS THE 2ND UPDATE IN 10 DAYS!!! FINALLY posted latest chappy....I spent an hour or two wrangling with the text editor on AO3. OY!! I hope y'all enjoy!! =) I'm not getting much feedback so it's difficult to tell if people are actually liking it or not. Tangled Just Before Ever After Chapter 3/? : Eugene's One and Only Current Word Count: 8040 Chapter 3 Summary: More satisfying character interaction. More homages. A nice loooooooooooong chapter, too. This is just too delicious to skip or gloss over, especially considering the happy couple likely only gets a few hours all to themselves before reintroducing Rapunzel to the royal family....and nothing is ever quite the same for them again.

Chapter 3: Eugene's One and Only “And...is that height a bad thing?” Eugene asked, trying to break the tension. His attempt at levity flew right over Rapunzel’s head, however.

“Of course it isn’t bad --” she said hastily, holding up her hands.

“Because I can slouch if you want,” Eugene interrupted, trying a bit harder this time, his shoulders slumping over so suddenly that it even startled Pascal a little. “How’s this, now?” The sight of Eugene arduously trying to appear permanently humpbacked, even with his lush upper body was so ridiculous that both Rapunzel’s and Pascal’s eyes bugged out and their jaws dropped. A spontaneous snicker escaped Rapunzel in spite of herself and one of her hands flew to her mouth.

“So….no?” deadpanned Eugene, on a roll now. “Because I can always go lower, you know.” Then he bent his knees until he was bow-legged in combination with the super-slouch, and he was schlumping around in front of her, back and forth, like some court jester. Rapunzel and Pascal burst out laughing. When he was satisfied the tension was fully dispersed, Eugene dropped the goofball routine, happy to see that Rapunzel’s nervousness had disappeared. The young man never wanted her to be afraid of him, even if it was merely over their height difference.

“That’s my girl,” Eugene grinned and affectionately set his hand against her cheek. Rapunzel perked up even more after he said it. “Hey, that’s really what I am now, aren’t I??” she replied wondrously, covering his hand with her own. “I’m your girl!!”

“Only if you wish to be,” Eugene amended softly.

“Of course I do!” Rapunzel exclaimed. Unable to contain herself, she bounced from the pads of her feet to her toes. “More than anything!”, and she bubbled over, launching herself into his arms with such sudden and wild abandon that Eugene nearly lost his footing. As soon as he regained balance, Rapunzel again sealed her lips over his and urgently showed him just how much she wanted him, wanted to be his girl and nobody else’s.

After they came up for air, chests heaving, Eugene braced Rapunzel against him so their foreheads could touch. “I want to be your girl,” she whispered, still breathless from their most recent dalliance. “Eugene’s girl.” And oh, how Eugene’s heart soared! “I believe you,” he answered fervently, positively giddy at the prospect. He could have sung….Eugene’s girl, indeed!!! It still sounded so fresh to his own ears. For Eugene hadn’t ever dared to approach a girl before; that territory had been exclusively reserved for one Flynn Rider. Until just two days prior, Eugene had always felt too shy or insecure to approach girls as his authentic self. Now he knew he’d found a great woman who wanted him for who he was, and not just for good looks, not for a projected façade, not for his illegal skills, nor ill-gotten gains, nor anything else. But it wasn’t just that.

For the first time in his life, Rapunzel had actually made Eugene love hearing the sound of his given name. It was both an unintended consequence and serendipitous gift. As far as Eugene was concerned, this gift was every bit the mystical miracle that Rapunzel’s tears saving him had been. Even the lilting musicality of the way she pronounced “Eugene” made it all uniquely special. He felt almost silly for asking, but he just had to hope she would "get" it. And as intuition would have it, he was right.

“Could you….could you say that again? For me, please?” he requested, so softly that Rapunzel nearly had to ask him to repeat himself. His thumb gingerly skimmed her bottom lip as he cupped her chin in his hand. She gazed into his eyes questioningly, but only for a mere second before she understood.

“I’m Eugene’s girl!” Rapunzel stated proudly, her smile beaming even brighter than midsummer’s day.

Overcome with lover’s euphoria, Eugene lifted her high above his head as effervescent laughter escaped from his throat, filling the air. Rapunzel’s laughter immediately joined him as he spun his princess in tight happiness circles across the cleared portion of the floor...and back. Hearing her say that with such love and sincerity meant more than he'd ever imagined.

Following their spinning, it was Eugene’s turn to be breathless as he pondered, utterly awestruck, “Whatever did I do in my miserable life to deserve someone like you?” He trailed a fingertip down from Rapunzel’s forehead and booped her nose. His question was rhetorical, of course, but the young woman answered him anyway.

“Hmmm…” Rapunzel considered. “Maybe it's because you….finally made some better life choices?” she quipped, with a twinkle in her eye.

“PffffSHahahaHAHA!!” The simple baldness of her reply caught Eugene so off-guard that he instantly released Rapunzel and burst into raucous guffaws in spite of himself. “I--I--” he attempted to reply but continued spluttering through his laughter so hard that tears leaked from his eyes. “I cannot argue with that! Not even a little bit!” And wow, did Eugene ever need this release! It had been one hell of a morning (or week) -- even according to Flynn Rider standards -- that’s for damned certain.

Rapunzel pondered innocently, “How can a person even ‘deserve’ another person, anyway?” Her face scrunched up in genuine confusion, which in turn made Eugene want to boop that adorable button nose of hers again. He had enough tact to refrain, though. She continued “Besides, it isn’t about what you deserve….it’s about sharing what you have, right? Sharing time, life, and building new dreams together.”

“My dear Sunshine…..” and Eugene clasped her hands within his, “once again, you are correct.” He brought her right hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. Before Eugene knew it, his diligent princess was once again checking up on his former wound.

“Sunshine, sweetheart, I can assure you that I’m quite all right at this time -- all thanks to you.”

“Yeah, I know….I know,” said the princess, hesitating. “It’s just that, well…..”

“...you keep waiting for life to drop the other shoe and just end the suspense? Get things over with already?” Eugene finished for her gently.

“Yes!” Rapunzel replied, “But….but how could you know? I’m always worried you’ll think I’m just being stupid or naïve or something...”

“I could never,” assured Eugene with utmost sincerity, shaking his head and again taking both of her hands in his own. He meant it, too. “And as far as me having anticipated your answer? That’s easy,” he said with a sad smile, “it’s because those self-defeatist emotions are nearly always born out of genuine need. It’s a hallmark of someone who never possesses quite enough. And admittedly," Eugene dipped his head back and forth in that self-deprecating way of his, "it's something I've seen an awful lot amongst those of us who must live life on the run. Your basic daily needs of food, clothing, shelter, and positive human companionship aren’t being met, no matter how hard you try,” he elaborated, looking down at the floor with a pained expression. Eugene tried hiding it, yet it seemed clear he seemingly wrestled with some long-buried memories that were closer to the surface than he’d let them come in a very long time. “And....then….without even realizing it, you become so accustomed to life’s tiniest happiness crumbs….that you actually start to believe it’s all there is to have. Without anything real to look forward to, you’ve overtrained yourself to deal with the inevitable, which winds up being…..” Eugene paused briefly in spite of himself before continuing.

“....bit-bitter disappointment,” finished Eugene acerbically, stuttering over the words. “Bitter disappointment,” Rapunzel said in unison with him.

“I’m so very sorry,” she continued worriedly, openly concerned that she had inadvertently caused Eugene to recall his own pained past, “we can talk about something else,” Rapunzel suggested. “The last thing I wanna do right now is dredge up painful memories from your childhood--”

“--it’s….it’s quite all right!” Eugene held up a hand and cut her off mid-sentence, eager to let her know that wasn’t at all the reason why he sounded so bitter and angry. "It's not what you're thinking."

Rapunzel was clearly puzzled. “Then….why were you sounding so harsh?” she tilted her head at him quizzically.

Again, she saw that sad, pinched smile -- and Eugene replied softly, much to Rapunzel's surprise, “It’s….it’s because I was thinking about your past, not mine -- that's all. Your upbringing….what it must’ve been like for you being lied to and promised things your whole life, only to have them yanked away when it mattered most.” He reached up a hand and tucked Rapunzel’s hair lock behind her ear and tugged her closer by grasping her wrists. She reflexively winced and sucked in a sharp breath.

“What is it?” Eugene hastily pulled back in alarm. “What’d I do?”

Rapunzel’s eyes had squeezed tight shut, and he looked down to see angry-looking red weals on her wrists from those god-awful manacles Gothel had shackled upon her that morning. Eugene gasped in spite of himself.

“Oh, Rapunzel," he indicated, his voice overflowing with guilt, "I’m--I’m so sorry!” For no reason at all, Eugene clearly felt personally ashamed it had taken him so long to notice these wounds of hers.

“I--it--really, it’s okay!!” Rapunzel reassured hastily, “truth be told, I didn’t even notice them myself until just now. Far too much happening at once, I suppose,” she smiled weakly.

If she weren’t already dead, Eugene would’ve had some very choice actions to visit upon Gothel at that time. Having been caught by some of the worlds most notorious bounty hunters and at times held in some of the world's most notorious prisons (however briefly), Rider had gotten far too familiar with nasty chafing from iron chains. In fact, it's the main reason he got such an infamous rep for picking locks. Pain can be an obnoxiously good motivator. But Eugene refused to dwell on that now.

“Do you have any healing salts?” he asked Rapunzel.

“Yes,” she said. “Across the floor in Gothel’s potions dresser. The second drawer on the left, clear corked bottle.”

“How about water and clean rags? Oh, and a small dish and spoon?”

“We’re out of water. But Gothel always got it from the spring behind the Tower. Spoon and saucer are over there in the cupboard.”

“The one with that waterfall? It’s also a water spring? That’s so cool!”

“Why, I s’pose it is!” Rapunzel agreed, having tilted her head in consideration. “I’ve never thought about it before.”

“I say we’ve definitely spent more than enough time in this place,” said Eugene, as he was gathering up a small bit of Rapunzel’s lengthy cut-off hair. “I have a feeling we’re gonna need this later,” he said seriously. Rapunzel was momentarily concerned with the sudden gravitas Eugene projected but it was gone before she could mention it to him.

Eugene was so pleased with Pascal’s helpfulness, he was nearly beside himself. As Eugene had turned toward the wall in order to tuck in his shirt properly without, ah, exposing things, the little chameleon had shown up at their feet again. This time he had Eugene’s satchel that contained Rapunzel's crown, the healing salts and clean rags, a dish and a spoon. “He’s so strong for something his size! Thank you, Froggy,” Eugene said, “for all your help. Just don’t hurt yourself, hmm?” And Eugene took his satchel from Pascal, who was suddenly indignant. He squeaked out something angrily to Eugene.

“It’s okay, Pascal,” Rapunzel soothed, “he was actually admiring your strength. Not insinuating that you are weak.”

“That’s right!” Eugene agreed, taking his lead from Rapunzel. “Pfffsh. Weak?? I could never think that. Not now, after watching you haul around something that’s gotta be 100x your size.” The little lizard grew proud and puffed up, and dropped the angry stance entirely.

“So,” Eugene turned to Rapunzel, who was again on the stairs, “were you needing anything else here?” He grabbed a purple ribbon from Pascal and tied it around the furled up lock of Rapunzel’s hair, stashing it carefully in his satchel. He slung the leather bag across his body.

“Nope,” Rapunzel stated firmly. “Nothing.” If Eugene was surprised by her resolve, he elected not to show it, instead saying, “Then let’s get the hell out of here.” And he looked around. “But….uhhhh,” he asked, suddenly stymied, “is there a way to get out of here that doesn’t require using the window?” He no longer had his arrows nor Rapunzel’s blonde hair to scale the side of the Tower.

“Over there is a trapdoor in the floor to a second staircase,” Rapunzel replied, pointing all the way across the floor.

“Right you are,” Eugene said, once again full of purpose. “However, as you are a barefoot maiden, I simply cannot have you pick your way across all that broken glass.” He bowed deeply to Rapunzel, much to her surprise. “Might I offer assistance to milady?” He straightened up and held out his arms to her where she stood above him on the stairs.

For a second or two, Rapunzel couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. After all, she really was royalty….but then she caught the quirk of his top lip.

“Oh, you….” she reached out and ruffled Eugene’s hair as they both laughed.

“In all seriousness, though, you can’t safely walk across this floor without shoes,” said Eugene and Pascal squeaked in agreement. “See? Even the Frog agrees with me.” Then, “Hey! I’m learnin’ your language, Froggy!” Eugene turned around to face Pascal, who had folded his arms in pretend annoyance. Yet Eugene’s enthusiasm made Pascal think better of it and the chameleon instead gestured the young man closer toward him on the floor. Eugene crouched down and Pascal hopped up on his knee, then up to his shoulder, and nuzzled against Eugene’s cheek. The man legit giggled. Like a little boy.

Rapunzel’s hands flew to her mouth in utter delight. She had no idea someone like Eugene was capable of laughing like that! It was so endearing that she was almost afraid of ruining the moment. In turn, Eugene had unexpectedly reached up toward the little chameleon. “And you’re ticklish, too!” exclaimed Eugene, as Pascal laughed in his own adorable scratchy-voice way.

As Eugene went to stand up with Pascal still on his right shoulder, Rapunzel said, “You’re right about the broken glass and my bare feet. “I saw someone in the town square doing this one thing….carrying someone on their back. Could we try that?”

“One piggyback across the broken glass, coming up!” confirmed Eugene with a smile. He stood with his back in her direction and instructed her to gently wrap her arms about his neck. “I’m gonna reach my arms backward and hook them behind your knees, okay?”

“Okay!” Rapunzel answered, with far more confidence than she felt. She needn’t have worried, though. Eugene’s arms were so large that even while reaching backward, he could support most of her thighs on just his forearms. It was only after he had situated her around his hips that it occurred to Rapunzel just how intimate her position could be. Instantly she had become supremely aware of just what proximity this piggyback might bring for the two of them. Pascal was also watching her, having hopped from Eugene’s shoulder to hers.

“Are you all situated, then?” Eugene asked. Rapunzel got the distinct impression it wasn’t the first time he’d asked the question. “Mhm…” she replied distantly, trying to deal with the sudden electrifying sensations overtaking her body as she sat with her legs around Eugene’s hips, her arms surrounding his neck and shoulders. “Off we go, then….” he continued.

Rapunzel’s lustful little button nose inadvertently brushed the nape of his neck. As she took in the now-intoxicating scent of his hair, Rapunzel quite nearly forgot how to breathe as Eugene’s walking motions across the floor awakened something deep within her netherregions. With each step he took across the floor, Rapunzel’s own hips involuntarily twitched and quivered a little bit more beneath her.

How was this possible?! A mere two days prior, when she had freaked out over the terror-bunny, Rapunzel had unintentionally wound up on Eugene’s back in a fit of pique. Back then she hadn’t felt anything like how she felt now; rather, she had been extremely embarrassed afterward! Yet the feelings she had at this very moment -- ones that made her want to bury her face into the man’s soft silky hair and the urge to wrap her legs and her entire self around Eugene and never let go weren’t exactly unpleasant but they were definitely unfamiliar. Unable to fully suppress a sound between pleasure or longing from escaping her throat, Eugene came to an abrupt stop and worriedly asked her if she was still okay. “Don’t worry, I’m fine,” she quickly replied, trying desperately not to blush yet again.

“Are you sure?” Eugene asked, showing uncanny perception with his ability to know when Rapunzel was keeping something from him.

The young woman quickly slid off of Eugene’s back and onto the floor by the trapdoor. Mumbling a distracted “thank you” to him, the princess mentally resolved to herself to have no more piggybacks until further notice. And to think she had so erroneously believed piggybacks would be a bit less intimate than having Eugene outright traditionally carrying her in his arms....

Rapunzel opted to let Eugene believe that her current, ah, frustrations(??) were related to something else other than the pinching tightness growing in her groin. It was just too blasted intimidating at that time to even think about bringing up her newness with romantic physical intimacy, especially with someone like him.

“Yes,” Rapunzel finally answered Eugene. That clipped reply had sounded almost mechanical, even to her…..and utterly foreign. The perceptive man folded his arms and replied gently, “Wellllll, that doesn’t sound very convincing. At all. Sooo...out with it. You can tell me anything, you know.”

“I’m--just--” she stuttered, not certain where to begin, only to blurt out, “have…..have you had many women?”

Eugene’s eyes widened and he blanched. He had known this was coming but he hadn’t expected the questions to come quite so soon. In his mind, the only woman Flynn Rider ever truly had was his ex-fiancé. And even then….he’d learned Stalyan had been such an over-controlling viper that it was her who’d secretly manipulated him into proposing in the first place. His discovery of the following became a huge part of why he’d walked away from her in the end.

Not to mention that in large part, Stalyan had been directly responsible for grooming him into the womanizer he had become. Once upon a time, when he was very young and still extremely naïve, it’s true that quantity of sexual conquests was what he sought -- exactly like most randy teens. Along came Stalyan who was so hyper-attractive and had such animal magnetism that it was almost unreal. She was six years his senior when she first recruited him and Lance and it had been far too simple for her to mold, coerce, and gaslight the impressionable 15-year-old Flynn into doing and becoming whatever she wanted.

But how on earth was Eugene going to explain all of that to his dearest Rapunzel without scaring her away?? He was already almost too terrified to even approach Corona again -- especially in light of his most recent escape that was witnessed by the entire royal guard -- though he wouldn’t let Rapunzel see the depth of his fear. The last thing Eugene needed to do was arm the noose-happy Captain with the knowledge of even more of Rider’s lousy past.

#tangled fanfiction #my fanfiction #Rapunzel + Eugene #TJBEA #RTA #rapunzel's tangled adventure #pascal the chameleon #Frog #Tangled the Series #TTS #Rapunzel #Eugene #eugene fitzherbert #tbea #Pascal the chameleon #Pascal #Froggy

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movie-s-alter-egos · 3 years ago

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Chapter 5 - SYS Switching Your Subconscious

DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT CREDIT

DO NOT EDIT WITHOUT PERMISSION

I DO NOT OWN THESE CHARACTERS IN THIS CHAPTER

Jacksepticeye/Sean McLoughlin owns the characters.

I own my own characters

___________________________________________________________

~??? Point Of View~

"GO AWAY!! PLEASE!!"

After that memory played in my head, which was the latest one I remember, I open my eyes and see I'm sitting up on a couch with a blanket draped over my lap and a couple of familiar people surrounding me. "Wha goin' on...?" I try to speak up properly, but my words were a bit slurred. What's happening? Where am I? I need to get out of here! "I think he's fully awake now, Hen." The one wearing a cap looks at me with a smile and holds my hand. "How are you feeling, bud?" I whine quietly in fear and try not to cry. "His vitals are still great, he just needs the water and snacks." A doctor looking like them comes from behind me, holding a stethoscope. "That reminds me, where are Jamie and Robbie?" The guy holding my hand points to the kitchen. "They're both still making stuff." The two of them keep talking for a bit and I look at the third man behind them. He was the same guy who found me in the bathroom, the one in the red hood, and now that I am finally looking at him, I realize he's impossibly real. The Jackie-Boy Man. The character made by Sean McLoughlin, media influencer, Jacksepticeye.

Oh, crap, how is he real? Are the other two that are here Henrik and Chase? No! This has got to be a dream, a lucid one for sure! "Need something, dude?" Jackie gestures to me and caught me staring with wide eyes. I come out of my thoughts and swallow. "Shit, are you still scared of me? I'm sorry, Jack!" The hero whines.

Jack? I'm not Jack-Wait... Oh no... I remember now... "Jackie! He's trying to figure out his surroundings..." Chase mutters loudly to calm him down. "He's still jumpy." I woke up in Jacksepticeye's body this morning. I don't know how though. They still don't know I'm not Sean. But if I'm in his body, is he in mine? Hopefully. It would make sense... but what if he's not? Could he be dead and I was sent to replace his soul?! Wait, wHY WOULD THAT HAPPEN?? AND WHY WOULD I BE CHOSEN TO DO THAT??! That doesn't make any sense at all!!

"Are you doing okay? You're breathing really fast..." Chase's hand squeezing mine pull me out again and I stare at him anxiously as I try to calm down. "I...I-I'm okay.." The grumble in my voice still felt odd to me compared to my regular higher tone and I clear my throat for no difference to show up. "I'm fine. What happened?" Henrik came closer after hearing those words. "You don't remember?" I shake my head. I partially knew what happened, besides how I got on the couch, but I couldn't let them know that Sean wasn't here. Jackie sighs quietly and explains. "You were freaking out over something and did not want us near you. You even threatened us with a knife from the kitchen and Henrik sedated you to make sure you didn't hurt anyone or yourself." That explains the sudden change of rooms. "The drug probably made you forget that it happened," Chase says and shrugs. "I forgot what happened before surgery after waking up." Henrik shakes his head and grabs his medical bag. "That would explain why he would forget after sedation, not before," Henrik walks away to his office, "Strange..."

Two more characters come in the living room and I immediately recognize both of them: Jameson and Robbie. Jamie was holding a small plate of unknown baked food and a mug and the zombie holding a few juice boxes. I bite my lip nervously as they walk closer to the coffee table and set the stuff down. "Thanks you two." Chase grabs the mug and hands it to me. A dark liquid was streaming inside and the porcelain almost burned my palms. The aroma was familiar, strong and unpleasant in my opinion. "Here. Just the way you like it." Jackie leaves the room towards the stairs I didn't see before, which were going down, and I look towards Chase. "Thanks..." I hesitantly take a sip of the drink and immediately regret my decision. Ugh! It's really strong, what is that?! I almost choke on the amount in my mouth and cough it back in the mug. "Whoa! Are you okay?!" Chase moves forward suddenly at my outburst and I flinch. "What's wrong?" Crap, act natural!! "Wrong pipe!" I cough again and hit my chest. "I-I'm okay!" The man sighs in relief and backs off to sit back down where he originally was. "I'm going to get ready for filming, Jamie and Robbie can watch after you while I am gone." Robbie mumbles loudly when Chase stood up. "What..'bout... Hen?"

"He's going to work too."

"I-I think I'll be fine, Chase, don't worry," I get up from the couch with wobbly legs and Jamie rushes to help me sit down again, then he tries to, I believe, tell me off through sign language. Crap!! What is he saying? I need to respond. "I'll be fine, Jameson, I'll be able to walk and do stuff, I don't need to be watched." Robbie whines loudly. "But you... scared... sit more.." I sigh silently and try to stand again, but once more, Jamie gently pushes me back down. "You still have the sedative in your body, bro. Just lay back down and rest for a bit, you did plan your break anyway." Chase walks downstairs and Henrik follows him out with his coat and tools. Was he standing there before or did he just get there? Whatever, I just need to get alone and figure out what's going on without them getting suspicious. Crap, what do I do? Someone taps my shoulder and I see Jamie handing me a cookie. Ooo! Chocolate chip! I basically snatch it and bite into the treat with a grin, but I stop.

Is it poisoned? You can never really know. But would Jamie poison Jack? Well, he was theorized to be Anti's puppet... I hear a quiet chuckle in front of me and I look up at the two mid-bite. "You hungry?" I blush, well I think I did since my cheeks felt warm (A/N: I don't think I ever had blushed, so I have no idea if you can clearly feel yourself blush) and look away embarrassed. "Yeah," I mumble through the sweet and chew on my bite. Jamie smiles and communicates with his hands again with a silent giggle, I believe it could have been a giggle or a chuckle, or a laugh, I have no clue. I finish the cookie quick and try to stand once again. "I need to use the restroom," I lie and Jamie leads me there, helping me walk there and I close the door with him in the hallway and me in the bathroom. I lock the door and lean on the counter. I'm alone.

What the heck do I do? Do I try to get back home? That's overseas and I have no idea which city I am. Jack does have the money, but I would hate to use it. Even if I had to, I don't think I would know his pin and passwords. I probably can't even access his email or phone. What time is it where I'm, or Jack, is? Is he awake? Is he okay?! Crap, what do I do?! What do I do?! My fingers curl up and tighten as I try not to cry.

Word Count: 1,266

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I DO NOT OWN THESE CHARACTERS IN THIS CHAPTER

Jacksepticeye/Sean McLoughlin owns the characters.

I own my own characters

#jacksepticeye #oc #jacksepticeye egos #body swap #switching your subconscious #sys

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