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The White Knight - Chapter Eight
-> KNIGHT! KITA SHINSUKE X PRINCESS! READER
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Summary: A relationship between a Lady and her knight always seemed impossible - but perhaps there is someone in the castle to prove that assumption wrong.
Words: 2,882
Warnings: none
Your Point Of View
Of course you had caught a fever. After exhausting yourself so much despite your wound, it really came as no surprise. You now had regular visits from the physician, maids and even your father, who was now sitting beside your bed, checking your temperature with his palm, even after you assured him that it had gone down already.
“You should have rested, sweetheart,” he scolded you. “I even told your knight that he should make sure you rest.”
“Father, I was not truly resting until I saw Alysane. I was only worrying about her. He knew that.”
“Well, now you know that she is alive. So rest. Alright?”
“Yes, father.” You smiled at his worry. It was endearing to see him care for you so sweetly. It was a rare sight, one you cherished. “Where is Ethan, anyway? He has not come to see me yet.”
Only the day of the attack had your brother visited you, albeit very quickly, excusing himself shortly after his arrival. And now that you were sick, he had not come to see you despite your father coming in to see you every day. Did your brother not care about your recovery?
“Your brother is very busy surveilling the men working in the castle. He wants to make sure that no one else commits treason like Garret did. But he asks about your health every time he sees me.”
“I wish he would come and see me himself, though.”
“I know, my love. But you are still weak. Maybe too many visits would be too much stress for you anyway.” Your father gave you a sympathetic smile. “Speaking of, I wanted to ask if you want me to postpone Garret's execution until you are feeling better?”
Your stomach twisted and cramped at your father's words. Watch Garret's execution? No way. You could not do it.
“No, father, it's fine.” You forced a smile onto your lips. “You can go ahead without me.” Please leave now before I start crying over this, you thought.
“Fine, fine.” Your father planted a soft kiss on your forehead. “I'll leave you to rest then.”
Holding yourself together until he left was hard enough, but when you saw Clara peek her head into the room, you just waved for her to leave while you pulled the blanket over your head.
With one hand pressed to your mouth, you muffled your gasps for air as tears streamed down your face. Another man was going to die, because of you. One dead body after another littered your path. Everything you touched turned to ash and dust.
Garret deserved what he got, you knew that. But it still hurt, it still felt like it was your fault. You could hear the sword swinging to kill him, you could hear his body hit the floor. You could see his blood drip down onto the floor, creeping up your legs. Every part of you was covered with someone else's blood. Everything was your fault. You were killing yet another man.
Still, Kita wanted you to see the good in the world. Weren't you the one making things worse all the time? One day there would be nothing good left.
—
Kita's Point Of View
Kita was running late. He hated making people wait, but today it was worth it. He knew how much you wanted to know how your friend was doing and although Clara made sure to make sure she got all the gossip from every possible person, he thought it would still be a good idea to check in himself. There was no denying the fact that Kita also felt a sense of reassurance when he knew that Alysane was doing well - considering the circumstances.
It had been almost four weeks since the attack and although you had recovered very quickly - despite the fever you had caught - you still were still not allowed to visit Alysane. When you had been to her room right after she had been injured, she was not awake, so it did not really matter whether you were there or not. But then, after she regained consciousness, it was determined that she needed as much rest, peace and quiet as possible. So no visits were permitted, not even by the precious princess of the kingdom.
Though still weak, Alysane was awake a lot now and even able to speak and hold a conversation. She was clear headed and her injury was healing well, showing no sign of infection. The first time she was strong enough to, she had asked about you. When Garret attacked her, he had told her what he had done to you and although Osric had assured her that you were fine, you two were very alike. Neither one of you seemed to be able to rest while not being completely sure that the other one was fine. And since she was still too weak to leave her bed, she had to satisfy herself with recollections of the events.
Every time that Kita saw Osric now, who was now guarding the Lady, he asked him how she was doing and was satisfied to see his friend smile at him and tell him with an almost euphoric tone about how Alysane was able to speak more that day or ate a few spoonfuls of soup all by herself. They were all small things but it was clear just how happy it made Osric, how invested he was in your friend’s recovery. Every small thing that she did made him beam at his friend and lit up his face like he was the sun itself. He truly was in love with her.
Those recollections were all that Kita knew about Alysane but he would tell you about it every time, knowing that you were dying to hear any good news. Today, during breakfast, Osric had told him big news: Alysane was allowed to have visitors from now on - if she felt well enough that day!
Knowing how desperate you were to see her, Kita accompanied Osric on his way to the Lady’s room after they had finished their breakfast. Kita decided that since Osric was going to go to her room anyway, he might as well go with him, see for himself how she was doing. She was probably just as excited to see you as you were and if he found out if she was doing well that day, your reunion would be made possible even sooner.
Upon opening the door to her chamber, the two men were met with a surprise: Not only was Alysane awake, she was sitting up on her bed, a feat she had not been able to tackle on her own since her injury.
The happiness due to her quick recovery was huge, as was the worry that she might be putting too much of a strain on herself and worsen her situation again by doing too much too fast. In all the chaos Kita had forgotten the time and was now hurrying to come back to you again. Though he hated being late, he was sure that you would not be angry with him, especially not when he would tell you the good news. He could already imagine the way your eyes would light up and the way your teeth would show themselves when you smiled up at him. The image of you so happy was something almost completely new to him. Ever since he had met you, you had been sad - so sad it made his heart hurt, too.
And now, after the attack, you seemed to be even sadder than before. He had tried to tell you that everything would get better and he even found you looking out the window every now and then, seemingly looking for the beautiful things he had told you made him happier. But still, you weren't happy. Your mood seemed to worsen even more after Garret's execution - if that was even possible. But, Kita still found a way to make you smile, despite everything. Every time he told you about his talks to Osric and how well Alysane was recovering, you would smile up at him, giving him an expression he had rarely seen before. He wanted to see it every day now.
And although he made an effort to tell you as many good news as possible and succeeded in making you smile quite often (considering the circumstances) he still did not feel like you were any happier. The only time he saw you smile was when he talked about Alysane's recovery. He often felt like all you wanted to do was rest, but whenever you went to lie down, you just laid there and stared at the ceiling with the same exhausted expression you had before. Something else was weighing on you, something Kita didn't seem to be able to lift. At least not like this, not if you didn't tell him what it even was. Was it your mother's death? Was it Garret's attack on you? Was it worry for your friend? Was it something different? He did not know and neither did he dare to ask. It was clear that you were too tired, too exhausted to talk about it. Not to mention that it was not his place to ask. So if he couldn't help you figure out what was going on, he could at least make you feel better for a moment by telling you how well Alysane was doing.
A small smile crept onto his face as he imagined how you would look at him, with wrinkles around your eyes and your teeth showing as your mouth widened into a smile. He loved how you looked in those moments. Even if you still looked exhausted, you always seemed to enjoy those conversations of yours.
Quickly, he made his way to your chambers and relieved the knight on duty. He knocked on your door, hopefully hitting it just so that it wouldn't wake you if you were still resting, but still loud enough to be heard if you were indeed awake.
“Come in,” you answered from inside.
You were sitting at your table, a small breakfast in front of you. You were dressed in comfortable clothes, simple enough to lay down in comfortably, but still sensible enough to look presentable for potential visitors. Slowly but surely, you were returning to normalcy. The wound was still bandaged and Kita did not know what it looked like underneath now, but he calmed himself with the knowledge that you were gaining more and more strength every day.
“Princess,” he bowed down before stepping further into your room. Was the smile still plastered on his face?
“Sir Kita,” you looked back down at your plate with a shy smile. “I was actually just wondering when you would arrive,” you confessed in a small, soft voice that sounded like music to his ears, though he still felt a pang of guilt at making his princess wait.
“I'm sorry I'm late princess, but I was visiting the Lady Alysane.”
“Oh,” your face lit up as you faced him again. “Is she allowed to have visitors now?” Had you had more energy, you would have probably jumped from your seat.
“Yes, princess,” Kita confirmed. “And she would be very happy to see you.”
—
Your Point Of View
Alysane's face was still covered in bandages, giving her just enough space to open one eye and her mouth to eat and speak. Still, she was sitting on her bed, asking you how you were feeling.
“Alysane, you're insane!” You scolded her. “You nearly died and you're worrying about me!”
“Didn't you do the same?”
“Well..” You pouted, looking away from her. “My injury is not as bad as yours. I've been able to walk around and even go outside for a while now.” You looked back up at her. “How is your wound healing?”
“Well,” she tried shifting on the bed, which was obviously quiet a feat for her. Gently, you took her arm and pushed a hand into her back to help her. Once she got into a comfortable position, she continued. “It is healing well but.. no matter how well it heals, it will leave me ugly and scarred.”
“Alysane-”
“No, y/n, it will! It is deep and huge. My whole face will be taken over by a huge scar. You might not think me ugly, but many other people will. There is no point in denying it.” She was serious and determined to bring her point across, even though she was already breathing harder from the exhaustion after she worked herself up so much. You did not expect her to be able to raise her voice like that. “I will have to write to my father,” she said, now quieter, sounding defeated. “I will not be able to make a good match. He will probably tell me to come home, too. He'll think that there is no point in me being here anymore. No man will want me now and I will just be a disgrace if everyone at court sees me with this huge scar.”
It pained you to hear that her own father might think of her this way and it hurt you to hear her speak of herself so lowly. “You are not a disgrace. And it does not matter if other men do not want you because the only man that truly matters does want you: Osric wants you.”
Of course he did. You knew he did because recently, after your fever had been cured, while you were taking a stroll through the gardens with Kita (with permission from the physician, of course), you had encountered Osric, picking flowers.
“Lady Alysane can't go outside, so I thought.. maybe I'd bring the outside to her,” he had said, a faint blush and a big smile on his face. He rambled on about how well she was recovering, how strong she was and how happy he was to see her alive and you were sure that he could have (and wanted to) go on for hours, but he excused himself because Alysane was waiting inside and he did not want to leave her for too long - even though you knew that another knight was guarding her when Osric wasn't there. He just did not want to leave her side. It was obvious that he was in love with her. At least to you it was. Alysane apparently did not think like you did.
“You should have seen the way he looked at me after my bandages got changed,” she said. “He walked in while they were off and the wound was exposed. He immediately left the room to stand guard outside. He didn't come back in for almost the entire day and then, when he did, he barely even looked at me.” Alysane sniffled softly. “He thinks I'm disgusting.”
There was no way in hell that he would ever think that. Just now, when you came to visit her, Osric had been sitting next to her bed, talking to her, a big smile plastered on his face.
“Alysane, he very obviously enjoys spending time with you.”
“He's just being nice.”
Grabbing her hand, you stared into her eyes so intensely you thought you might just pierce through her skull with just the intensity of it. “There is no man in this castle ho is more in love than Osric. You can believe me or not, but that is the truth. And if you keep running away from it, you will just hurt him and yourself. Do you really want that?”
Alysane shook her head.
“Then you have to do something about it,” you said. “In a way, this scar might be a good thing for you.”
Alysane just raised her one exposed eyebrow at you.
“Well, if you cannot make a match with a rich Lord, I am sure that your father would not object to you being betrothed to an honorable royal knight, would he?”
Your friend looked at you with an almost blank expression before the realization dawned on her.
“You mean.. I could actually.. marry him?” Tears filled her eye and her voice was quivering.
“Yes,” you said, rubbing her hand comfortingly. “I think you could. But, like I said: you have to do something about it. You can't let other people determine your fate for you all the time”
She looked up at you. “But what could I possibly do? I'm a sick woman chained to her bed who can only talk for a little while. I'm already exhausted.”
“Well..” You got up and let go of her hand. “I think you still have enough breath for a short conversation, don't you?”
And with that, you took a few long steps and reached the door, pulling it open before Alysane could say anything else.
“Sir Osric?” you questioned. “Lady Alysane wants to discuss something with you.”
And with that, you gave Alysane another glance before leaving. Her face was pale, but her hands were gripping the bedsheets in determination. She was not looking at you, but at Osric, who was now slowly making his way into the room. She knew what she needed to do.
-> Next Chapter
#kita#kita shinsuke#kita x you#kita x reader#kita shinsuke x you#kita shinsuke x reader#hq#haikyuu#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x you#knight kita#medival au#hq x reader#kita x y/n#kita shinsuke x y/n#kita comfort#kita angst
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The fact that we were robbed of the Simmons baby shower is a pity
Because I know the Garrets were there
Of course the entire BAU
Monty, Clara, and Mae too
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Out of your OCs who are the princess, slut, and loser?
Got a lot of ‘em so I’m just gonna sort the cream of the crop into categories
Princess: Moira, Leigh, Clara(quite literally!), Ingrid, Leliel, Sybil, Val, Theta, Lamerin, Vesta
Slut: Pan, Colin, Clockwork, Dean, Garret, Kimiya, Ruther, Sergei, Mischal
Loser: Nicky, Elliot, Byron, Renato, Duane, Wilson, you know what most of the male Consumptionverse characters they are my failsons. And also Heather.
Rosarian is all three ❤️
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my oc x canon character ships, did they last, what music artist do they remind me of, and a dynamic they align with <3
yoo katamori and sō inuoka
did they last? - yes! they got married around 2018, but they do not have any kids. they don’t know if they want them or not, and if they do, they are waiting until they are over thirty.
music artist - ricky montgomery
dynamic - rough life x therapist, aka the ash and eiji pipeline (yoo as ash, sō as eiji).
haku and senjuro
did they last? - yessiree. they have known each other since childhood, and were best friends. just a year after the main series ends, i planned that they become a couple. they marry when they are both about 22. they have three kids together.
music artist - cigarettes after sex
dynamic - childhood friends, sunshine and moon (who is who can be flipped either way), malewife x girlboss
jean and irma
did they last? - no! so, i think it would be an interesting (yet sort of unnecessary) side plot line if jean went out with irma (marco’s twin sister, btw) for a few years, living in a fantasy of being with marco. they really did care about each other, but they broke up soon after the rumbling ended, leaving things a little rocky between the two.
music artist - billie eilish or laufey (polar opposites, but, in my eyes, it’s perfect)
dynamic - the ‘glimpse of us’ by joji pipeline
irma and annie
did they last? - yes! they always kind of liked each other, and irma would always visit annie’s crystal. irma thought about annie often when she was with jean— questioning why she did so. after the rumbling and meeting again, they got together and, eventually, got married.
music artist - mitski
dynamic - literally just nana and hachi in a different font
connie and clara
did they last? - mhm! they met after the rumbling, in town, and really hit it off. clara saw connie, like, actually saw him. she didn’t see him as your stereotypical funny guy, she saw him as a human who, sometimes, gets pissed off, cries, screams, etc. as for connie, he brought out the light in clara. he was her first friend in years, and the one who, she claims, saved her. i’m still deciding if they should get married or not, but they definitely do have a kid, in which they named after sasha.
music artist - eyedress or bruno mars
dynamic - beast boy and raven (golden retriever bf x goth gf)
thanks for reading that!! i love my ocs and i hope you enjoyed hearing about them. if you have questions or requests or anything involving my ocs, send it to me in my ask box! thank you :)
#haikyuu!!#demon slayer#kimetsu no yaiba#attack on titan#yoo katamori#haku iguro#irma bodt#clara garret#original character#oc
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I miss one (1) cast:
(open for better quality)
#criminal minds beyond borders#cmbb#daniel henney#alana de la garza#annie funke#gary sinise#tyler james williams#matt simmons#clara seger#mae jarvis#jack garret#russ montgomery#i really miss them#im salty#cmbb deserved better
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Love-Performing Night
Fandom: Henry Cavill as Sherlock in Enola Holmes
Summary: The Reader, an actress at Covent Garden Theatre and neighbor to a certain eccentric detective, is equal parts flustered and delighted when he arrives at the stage door after a performance.
Notes: I prefer giving a name to the Reader rather than using Y/N, but I hope you will make the appropriate substitutes in your imagination!
Content: Light intimations of imagined, enthusiastically consensual sex, suggestive language, and over-indulgent references to Shakespeare.
“Gentleman for you at the stage door, Miss Cane!”
“For me?
“Ay, Miss.”
“And I know who!” sang out Amelia, the company’s stunning chanteuse, who apparently cannot help but overhear everyone’s business at every moment and share her unvarnished opinions—as any best friend would—snapping open her delicate fan and smiling triumphantly.
“Tall, broad fellow?” inquires the wizened old stagehand who has come to deliver this news. “Got a great bouquet of roses with him.”
“Well, that surely cannot be—“
“It can and I’ll wager ten it is!” Amelia interrupts you.
“But why would he bring flowers?”
“It takes no detective to conjure that, Clara. I’m only surprised it took so long!”
“He has come to sweep you off your feet at last, then, oh diamond of the London stage?” you jest in turn, hoping to put her off with your teasing, if not at all untrue, flattery. “What a perfect pairing for the scandalmongers you’d make! The brightest of minds and the most elegant of celebrities—“
“The brightest of minds!” she mimics, pitching her voice like the swooning schoolgirl you hope you are not presently emulating yourself. “No, I am not for him and he is not for me and you know that.”
She sweeps away in a flutter of embroidered silk, smirking delightedly. A few starstruck choristers follow devotedly in her perfumed wake; Amelia is a woman for whom men bring flowers to the stage door. Yours is, by your own design, a quieter beauty, allowing you to slip anonymously away into the London streets when the curtain falls. Shielded by plain linen so unlike the silken sweetness of Juliet, Silvia, and Desdemona, most nights find you walking happily home to the garret apartment of an infamous address, let cheaply by a kind woman for the commotion often caused below.
From your window overlooking the street, you have watched a parade of clients enter and exit 221B Baker street, from to a small, veiled woman you suspect may have been Queen Victoria herself to the humblest of desperate factory workers…not to mention the troop of rag-tag children who would surely follow their hero to the edges of the earth, and certainly as far as Scotland Yard and back. And of course, a real-life Rosalind, revealing the glorious truth of herself and her bold dreams in a variety of disguises, whom you have come to know as his sister. She would be a fine actress herself, but that the women of the world require her to advocate for her interests in a different, special way.
And you have seen him. A creature of the strangest habit, who seems to go about his business just as you are coming home from yours, cordially greeting you beneath the starry skies as he sets forth with his faithful Doctor Watson at his side, or skulking through the shadows where you obligingly pretend you do not see him, even once paying your carriage fare—with a stern “You will permit me.”—on a cold, stormy evening.
You have met him a few mornings, too; emblazoned in your memory is the first time he climbed the narrow stairs to knock upon your door.
“Miss Cane. Forgive my intrusion, but I require for my latest case a woman’s opinion.”
“Is it so very different than a man’s?”
This was no flirtatious rejoinder, but a genuine question, one which provoked an hour of passionate conversation on that subject, and countless hours since on every topic under the sun. He ever more regularly seeks your opinions now, not only as a woman, but as a person of sentiment and gentle candor, niche knowledge, and an excellent facility for riddles and puzzles. More than you often care to admit to yourself, let alone to him, you treasure this natural continuation of your budding friendship, which has seemed, in these past weeks, to have reached a new and unexpected depth.
When a rare failure of his faculties resulted in tragedy, you taught him the cadence of sympathy, apology, and humble hope, without judgment or unkindness. On Amelia’s behalf and at your request, he retrieved a compromising letter, with the utmost respect and discretion. You have ever found him to be a gentleman, utterly vain and often supercilious to the ignorant, but of limitless compassion for the ostracized, the wounded, and the needy.
And of course, he is a man of amiable countenance. But at Covent Garden, everyone is. It is the nature of your profession to be well acquainted with beauty of all shapes, sizes, and kinds, and never be tempted into any sort of entitlement to or desert thereof. Your head cannot be turned by his keen blue eyes, such wide shoulders and powerful arms, those unruly curls that you can only imagine would feel softer than silk, winding your fingers through to pull him closer as his demanding lips press against—
No.
You harbor no thoughts, feelings, nor desires, on the part of Mr. Sherlock Holmes.
None. Whatsoever.
But here he is. On your turf, so to speak, and rather out of his element, ducking beneath a sandbag, sidestepping a pile of blunted swords, and peering somewhat bemusedly at a tower of elaborate hats carried by in the arms of an eager dresser. He looks completely, charmingly out of place, so solemn and sophisticated in his immaculately pressed black tailcoat in the midst of this chaos of color and light. You cannot help but laugh, even as your breath hitches at his approach.
You have seen him in the guise of soldier, sailor, beggar, barrister, dandy, but never in his own best attire. To say Mr. Holmes is the eighth wonder would be doing the sight a disservice, or so your treacherous heart whispers, entirely against the will of your resolved mind. When his eyes finally meet yours, he sweeps his hat from his head, setting it aside almost absentmindedly. His expression is peculiar, almost wondrous, as he approaches, towering over you with a gentle smile that only rarely graces his countenance.
“Miss Cane.”
“Mr. Holmes!” Does your voice sound as breathless as you think it does? One can only hope not. “You should have told me you wished to come tonight; I would have secured a box for you.”
“It was an impulse of the moment. Do I intrude?”
“Not at all. Are these…for a case?”
“They are for ‘Juliet’.” Another smile. Heaven have mercy. “For you. How remiss I have been in never attending your performances.”
His gloved fingers brush yours lightly but deliberately as you take the roses in hand, and your heart skips a beat at the contact, but you are determined to hold his gaze and maintain your decorum.
“Nonsense—you have no obligation to visit your neighbor’s work, even if it is public, or artistic in nature.”
“My neighbor?”
He quirks an eyebrow, a fuller smile playing about his lips. You feel a flush rise in your cheeks. The slightest glance of his leather-clad hand, the common practice of a congratulatory bouquet—is this all it takes to send your common sense running through a metaphorical meadow of wilder dreams than you have any right to harbor? Surely Mr, Holmes himself would chide you for such careless deductions—no, suppositions, presumptions. But…roses. For you. Not just for a neighbor, but a…a…?
“No obligation even to a friend. But you are so kind to come—I rejoice to see you! Would you like a tour? I think our provisions will impress even someone with a disguise kit so luxurious as your own.”
Yes, indeed, a very a good jest, you lie to yourself. He will never know I want to kiss him here and now before Amelia, God, and everyone.
“Gladly,” he replies. “I am rarely baffled, Miss Cane, but this labyrinth of yours is equal parts stimulating and confounding. What on earth is that?”
“The shipwreck for The Sea Voyage. I believe it is meant to be abstract rather than representative.”
“I see. How could I have mistaken it?” He maintains a casual tone as he chuckles and straightens his cravat, but you can no longer deny that something else simmers below his cool demeanor. “And perhaps after, we might share a carriage back to Baker Street. We have much to discuss, you and I.”
“Indeed? Well, I have a private dressing room; if you’d prefer, we may start our tour there and speak at once, if—“
As you begin to gesture towards the nearby door, he reaches out and catches your hand, gently stroking his thumb across the sensitive inside of your wrist.
“Thank you, but not, I think, tonight.”
“But—“
He lowers his head to kiss your hand, then softly speaks into your ear.
“My darling girl, you are irresistibly lovely, and never more so than now. This—“ His eyes flick down to where your chest rises and falls with each expectant breath beneath the sheer white lace of Juliet’s burial gown. “—is certainly a clever trick of fate to test my restraint at such a critical moment. But I am not half the actor you are: you would quickly find me unable keep up the part of a gentleman for long.”
“Sir, I…”
“Look at you you blush. All the way down to your—“
If he finishes that thought, whispering to you so nearly that you can feel his breath on your neck, you fear you will swoon into his arms on the spot. You cut him off swiftly.
“Let me—let me go and dress. For if matters are so urgent as you say, then it seems we were best to postpone our tour.”
“Excellent,” he replies, his tone suddenly resuming a courteous gentility, as if his sensual murmurs of moments ago had been nothing but a fever dream. “I will certainly return to see this Sea Voyage business. Are you a castaway, Miss Cane...or a siren?”
“An Amazon warrior, actually. Sword, shield, and all.”
His eyes sparkle, despite his carefully composed expression.
“How intriguing. I will procure our carriage home. Ten minutes?”
“Yes. Thank you.”
He graces you with one last suggestive smile, then disappears once again into the milieu, leaving you to gaze upon the gorgeous roses for a heady, heavenly moment, before you hurry off to your dressing room to change. Gazing at yourself in the mirror, eyes bright and cheeks flushed a brighter crimson than the bouquet beside you, you somehow feel closer to Juliet than ever, even as you strip away the character’s costume and don your own clothes again.
Spread thy close curtain, love-performing night,
That runaway’s eyes may wink and Romeo
Leap to these arms…
Did a love, yet untalked of and unseen, await you, with the man who could inspire in you more passionate poetry than Shakespeare could ever hope to write? Would it be acted tonight, most perfectly and unexpectedly, and so much better than a play? Summoning courage to match your passion, you made your way to the stage door and stepped out into the sweet, warm night, to meet Sherlock and discover if the starts might perhaps bless you both…
Thank you for reading! I was very much inspired by the works of @littlefreya who writes exquisite pieces for many Cavill characters, but whose heart-stoppingly sensual Sherlock stories in particular have captured me.
Part II can be found here!
#Sherlock Holmes#Sherlock Holmes x Reader#Sherlock Holmes x OFC#Enola Holmes#Sherlock Holmes fanfic#Henry Cavill Sherlock Holmes#Henry!Sherlock#Henry!Sherlock Holmes#Henry Cavill fanfic#Sherlock Holmes imagine#my writing
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More Kate x reader 🥺
I've got you covered! I didn't think people would actually enjoy the last one, so here's a little part two for you!
Read part one here | Request more prompts here
[Dedicated🥰 @ohmy-godyes @hoeforwandanat @haughtlikehell ]
I'll Be Home For Christmas Part 2 | Kate Bishop X Reader
There was a potted plant in the passenger seat that had seen better days. It’s leaves sagged but where still the firm color of healthy green. The cold couldn’t’ have been good for it, but that wasn’t your first thought when you placed it in a box and shoved it into your car with your coworkers watching from behind clouded glass. You could see their blobby silhouettes but kept your head high until you were a solid four blocks away from the building.
This had been a possibility. It was a risky story, and you laid your life on the line when you presented it to McCarty. Oliver hated it, he more than hated it he labeled it as slander and fired you two days before Christmas. He was never known for his kindness, but even this seemed like a lot.
You had taken it in stride, only crying into one carton of ice cream before you had settled on finding another job. It wouldn’t be hard, not in New York. You were close to household name, at least for lower fifty percent of the city that actually read the Daily Gazette. It was mainly for horse races. They weren’t known for the latest coverage on the Avengers, and they certainly weren’t the go-to for a company scandal involving socialite Jack Duquesne.
Kate didn’t say anything when she moved the plant to the back seat. It must have looked pathetic: a single mug with three ballpoint pens and a potted aloe plant that had seen better days.
You gave her a sheepish smile when she got into the car with her duffel bag. You planned on staying the night and leaving the next morning after a traditional breakfast of pancakes shaped like reindeer. Honestly- it was endearing, but one did not show up to Christmas with the news of getting fired.
Kate smelled like the outdoors, freshly melted snow and a hint of gasoline. She cleaned up nice, dawning a soft pink sweater and a high-waisted pair of pants. There wasn’t a hint of ash or dirt. She looked spotless aside from a small cut rimmed in purple on her chin, a half-bad bandage taped across it.
“So,” Kate said, adjusting her position until her foot was on the seat, chin resting on her knee. “Give me the rundown. What’s with this family situation?”
You hadn’t gotten this far, the explanation of the dynamic you all carried. Truthfully, there was a slim chance that Kate would even show. Now that she was in your passenger seat, a lazily gorgeous way about her, you nearly had no words. You had hit the usual bout of traffic on the bridge leading out of the city.
“I’m the youngest of three. Usually, that works in someone’s favor, right? I mean, I’m supposed to be the golden child. But that’s not what happened.” You said, “I have an older brother, Garret. He’s not so bad. He was a star quarterback in college but then blew out his knee and settled for coaching instead. Obviously, he’s my mother’s favorite. She’s not too fond of his wife, though. So that’s a point in our favor.”
Kate hummed softly and nodded, her apt attention was on you, and you fought off a subtle build-up of heat in your stomach that was hard to swallow back. You were never one for a loss of words, but her tender stare was enough to reduce you to a stuttering mess.
“Then there’s my sister, Clara. Valedictorian in school. Lawyer and altogether super mom. And her up-tight entrepreneur husband Steven. He says he’s a developer, but I’ve don’t know what that means because he’s never developed a single thing but a god complex.”
“Let me guess, your dad's favorite?”
“Bingo.” You tightened your grip on the wheel and merged into the exit lane. There wasn’t much highway from here, just two hours of bare trees and rolling hillsides. It was beautiful at times, but today held a certain cold greyness to it. “I didn’t make it easy; I suppose. With all my delinquent smoking and drinking, and god forbid the tattoos.”
Kate smiled at this, settling into her seat further “You rebel. Is that something I should know for small talk? That you’re a raging pothead?”
“Throw that in there and my mom will have a conniption.”
“Okay, noted.” She scrunched up her nose “What’s our story, then? How did we meet?”
You drummed your thumbs on the steering wheel and shot her a worried glance. You might be a writer, but this type of story was hard to conjure up. You couldn’t just say you found her trying to break into your neighbor’s apartment with a bobby pin. That seemed like the thing that would get both of you sent back to the city.
“Yeah, I’ve got nothing.”
“I’ve got it. We met at a diner. You liked building little log cabins out of your waffles and I helped you construct a door with a toothpick and the two of us have been inseparable ever since. It wouldn’t kill you to fake some memory loss.” She looked at you expectantly, a small smile on her features.
“That’s literally the plot of an Adam Sandler movie.”
“It’s a cute movie.”
“I hate waffles.”
There was a quick silence in the car before the two of you burst into laughter. It was a nice sound. It warmed your bones after the week you had had. For a moment it didn’t matter that Kate was nearly a stranger. It didn’t’ matter that Oliver had fired you. It just mattered that you shared this moment.
“Alright… I think we met at an event.” You said, once the quiet settled again. “For work. It was one of those fancy galas that the Gazette covers all the time. You were the least boring person in the room, and- stunning. All eyes were on you, but you didn’t care to be there either. So, you suggested that we leave.”
You kept your eyes on the road. Kate’s stare was piercing, so you didn’t’ allow yourself to meet it. You knew this trek like the back of your hand: what exits to take, where to slow because a cop would be waiting against the side of the mountain for anyone pedal happy or reckless. You weren’t either of those things.
“I said no at first, but one look at you made me change my mind. We spent the night entirely too dressed up in a 24-hour diner talking, getting to know each other. You wrote your number on the napkin and the rest was history.”
The tires against wet asphalt was the only sound that you could hear over your own blood rushing past your ears. It felt like another moment where your mouth got ahead of your mind. Maybe you had overstepped and the whole night would be filled with awkward conversations and a clear transparency to their fake relationship.
You chanced a look at Kate. Her stare was still on you, ghostly and tender all at once. She had a proud tilt to her jaw as the sun had finally begun to stream through the windshield. It wasn’t hard to imagine the scene: the sparkling gowns, their edges dirtied by the diner floor, the scent of perfume and Shepard’s pie mixed with cold clove cigarettes.
“You’re a writer?” She asked.
“What?”
“What you just said… you’re a writer.”
You frowned, “If you ask my boss, no. Not a very competent one.”
She breathed out, a dumb smile on her lips as she finally turned to watch the way the trees blended together . “I like it. Sounds like us.”
#Kate Bishop#Kate Bishop x Reader#Kate Bishop x y/n#kate bishop x you#Hawkeye#Hawkeye series#Hawkeye show#Request
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Would You Go with Me? Chapter 2
Hello lovelies!! Thank you for such a kind reception of this story! It really means a lot to me! I’m also sorry that the last chapter didn’t have a ‘read more’, I’m out of the country and couldn’t check the post until like 4 days after it had been posted.
If you would like to be added to the tag list, you can leave a comment or an ask and I’ll get you added!
~
There was a beep from the front gate at 2:47 that afternoon. He made sure Grogu was settled in the living room with his toy cars while he went to let the nanny candidate in. Punctual was good.
“Hello?” he said through the intercom.
“Hi, I’m here for an interview?” a female voice said, her tone drawing up at the end, giving away her nerves. He supposed he’d be nervous too, coming to a house like this. He pressed the button that opened the gate and watched an old honda pull into his driveway. Okay, so transportation would need to be sorted out if she was gonna stay on after the tour.
He went into his office and pulled out the resume he’d printed out and glanced at it for the first time as he went to answer the door. A very recent college grad, honors, with not a lot of experience with child care. But he was desperate, and it didn’t have to be a forever solution.
She knocked and Din shook his head and pulled it open, only to stop short.
“It’s you,” he said dumbly. It was the girl that the kid had taken a shining to at the grocery store. She very clearly remembered him too, if the look on her face was any indication. She was wearing the same business casual outfit she’d been wearing at the store; a skirt of an appropriate length, flats, and a blazer. At least her clothes looked like something a nanny would wear, even if she looked thirty years too young to be looking after someone else’s children.
“Um, hi,” she held out her hand. “I’m Clara Newbold.”
“Din,” he said. She probably knew that. Jesus christ, this was off to a great start, he thought. “Please, come in.” He held the door open a little wider to allow her in and shut the door behind her. He watched her kick off her flats and then motioned for her to follow him. They’d sit at the kitchen table so Din could keep an ear and eye out for the kid.
“The kid’s gonna be ecstatic,” Din said as they sat. “So, tell me about yourself.”
“Oh, um, well I just graduated from Michigan with a degree in art history focusing on early medieval textile arts. I just moved to Nashville about a month ago, but it’s been lovely here to far.” Normally her self-pitch was much better but she was reeling. She couldn’t believe it. The kid and the dad from the grocery store were here. If that was the kind of power her promises held she’d have to start making more promises. The man was still wearing his baseball cap low over his eyes, so it was hard to get a read on just what he was thinking.
“So you don’t have family or anything that brought you here?” Din asked.
“No, I was just looking for something knew and everyone always talks about how great Nashville is, so,” she shrugged. She purposefully left out the fact that she hated where she was living and that she was on the verge of tears from frustration over the job search half the time.
“And how’d you end up studying art?”
“On accident,” she laughed. “I wanted to be an architect but I took one art history class my freshman year and it just totally captured my attention.” Whether he meant to or not, he was really putting her at ease. This had to be the most laid back interview she’d ever had.
“So what experience do you have with child care?” he asked. And there were the relevant questions. She supposed the conversation couldn’t go on forever.
“I started babysitting when I was 14,” she said. “And I spent most of my summers working at a summer camp working with kids ages 8-18.”
“But never with a kid as young as Garret?” he pressed.
“Not really,” she admitted. “But I’ve always found that kids, no matter their age, respond really well to being treated like adults, so that’s my go-to method and it hasn’t failed me yet. And I’m a fast learner for whatever difference there are.”
“Right,” Din said. He leaned back and sighed. “Look, I don’t know what I’m supposed to ask you. I’ve never hired a nanny before.”
She blinked. That was a bold admission.
“So your degree is in art history, not anything related to children,” Din said. Clara wasn’t sure where he was going with it, so she just nodded. “Why are you getting into the nanny business and not, like, working in a museum?”
“Can I be honest with you?” She asked.
“I’d prefer it.”
“Museums require advanced degrees, and I don’t have the money for a master’s program right now. And trying to get an entry level position anywhere is nearly impossible. And I have to eat, so,” she shrugged.
“And you’re not a convicted fellon?” He looked at her resume again.
“Uh, no?”
“How do you feel about living on a tour bus?” He asked.
“Um, not ideal, but I have four roommates already, so wouldn’t exactly be out of the ordinary,” she said. Tour bus? Maybe she should have paid a little more attention when the agency had said ‘high profile’. She didn’t listen to country music, so it was entirely possible that he was a huge country star and she’d just never heard of him.
“Four roommates?”
“Trying to be able to eat, remember?”
“Christ, I’m out of touch,” he muttered. “Well the kid clearly likes you, and I’m running out of options, so if you want the job, it’s yours.”
“Seriously?” Clara asked.
“Pending you signing an NDA, obviously.”
“Right. Well, I accept, when do you need me to start?”
“Uh, tomorrow? At 7?” Din said, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand.
“Oh, wow, uh okay. Great.” Was it really that easy? What was the catch? Her other job wouldn’t be thrilled with her quitting out of the blue, but what was she supposed to do, say oh sorry, I can’t start immediately I have to finish out some shifts at a coffee shop? Absolutely not.
“Great. I have a copy of the standard NDA in my office,” he said, standing. “You can look it over, sign, and I’ll get it sent over to my lawyer.” He held a finger up to tell her to wait there while he disappeared down the hall. He returned a moment later and handed her a small stack of paper and a pen.
“I’ll get your tax info and payment stuff from the agency and get you added to my payroll.”
“Okay,” she said.
“Take your time, and I’ll give you a tour of the house before you leave.” She nodded and flipped to the first page of the NDA. Din left her in the kitchen and disappeared back down the same hallway he’d come from. She assumed he was going to his office to call the agency.
“Larry!” A little voice shouted. She turned and saw Garret - no, he liked to be called Grogu - looking up at her. He ran across the room and threw himself onto her lap, hugging her legs tightly.
“See, I told you we’d see each other again,” she said, patting his hair. That little piece of affection nearly brought tears to her eyes. He was a sweet kid, whatever learning curve there was to being a nanny, she was sure she could figure it out.
“You colorin’?” he asked, looking up at her.
“Kind of,” she said. “You wanna color?” He nodded. “Can you show me where you keep your stuff?”
“Yeah,” he said, and started walking off and out of the kitchen. She followed him down a hallway and into a room that looked like it had been hastily thrown together for a child. He walked over to a drawer and opened it, pulling out a color book and several crayons, most of which were green.
“You want help?” She asked, amused as he tucked the book clumsily under his arm and tried to grab more crayons.
“No,” he said. She laughed. Alright, very independent. Good to know.
“Okay, let’s get back to the kitchen,” she said, letting him walk out in front of her. She picked up the crayons he dropped as they walked and then picked him up and put him in the chair next to hers. He dropped his crayons onto the counter and she sat back down while he started to color, chattering away in the way that toddlers did.
She finished her paperwork, her eyes nearly bugging out of her head when she saw how much he was going to pay her. She may not have been a fan of country music, but clearly other people were if that’s what he could afford to give her. At that rate, she could start looking for a new place after the first few paychecks hit.
“Do you know where your dad is?” She asked Grogu. The little boy nodded.
“Down,” he said and she helped to lift him out of his chair and put him on the ground. He reached up and took her hand and lead her through the house to a little room were Din was sat at a desk, writing on a legal pad. Grogu climbed onto his lap and he looked up.
“Um, I left the papers on the counter,” she said.
“Great,” he said, standing. He held Grogu on his hip and motioned for her to leave the room. “This is my office. I sometimes use it as an impromptu studio, so if the door’s shut, don’t knock.” She nodded. “It doesn’t happen all that often, but just so you know.” Studio, so he was a singer. She’d have to look him up.
They walked through the house, Clara getting acquainted with the layout and with the smaller details about the lives of her new employer and his son. She couldn’t help but smile as Grogu rambled on about anything and everything as they moved through the house. He was a really cute kid.
“Down, down, down,” he sang as they came to his room. Din set the little boy down and he immediately grabbed Clara’s hand and pulled her further into the room. It was a little sparse for a toddler’s room, but maybe he had a playroom she hadn’t seen yet?
“We play,” he said with all the firmness a toddler could muster.
“Not today, buddy,” Din said quickly. “Tomorrow.”
“No, pwease,” Grogu begged, giving her the biggest puppy dog eyes she’d ever seen. She crouched down to look him in the eyes. Okay, so maybe those eyes would be a little harder to resist than she’d thought.
“I’ll be back first thing in the morning, and then guess what? We’ll get to play all day,” she promised. He pouted slightly, but seemed to consider. “Remember how at the grocery store I said we’d see each other again because we were friends?” He nodded. “And here I am, right?”
“Okay,” he conceded.
“Okay,” she agreed and straightened up. He kept her hand latched in his tiny one and she looked up to see Din regarding her with a strange look on his face.
“That’s everything,” he said as they walked out of the room. “Do you have any questions?”
“A ton,” she said. “But I think most of them can only be answered by experience.” Din chuckled.
“Well if you have any that I can answer, here’s my phone number.” He handed her a card with his name and a phone number on it. She held it in her hand.
“Do you have a schedule worked out for him that you want me to stick to?” She asked.
“Not really,” he said. “We’re still getting adjusted. I know that’s more work for you to establish a routine, but all the parenting books say it’s best to let him get adjusted before regimenting anything.” He said. Her eyebrows scrunched together a little and he could see her trying to work out exactly what that meant. So she clearly had no idea who he was. He kind of liked that idea.
“Okay, we can learn together,” she said, looking down at the kid.
“Great, so I’ll see you in the morning then?” Din said as he walked her to the door.
“Yes,” she agreed. “Thank you,” she said, pulling on her shoes again. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said to Grogu, who gave a little wave as she opened the door. Din watched as she closed the door and listened as she started her car to pull out of his driveway.
“Okay,” he said, picking up Grogu in his arms to carry him back into the house. “I think we got a good one, don’t you?”
“Yep,” was all the little boy said in return.
Taglist: @mishasminion360 @abbygraceasd
#din djarin#din djarin x female oc#din djarin x reader#the mandolarian#mando#mandalorian#the mandolorian x reader#mandalorian country singer AU
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Amphibia: Calamity War - Fancast
Here are some lists I made for each characters for fancast when you hear some voices inside of your head.
Brenda Song - Anne Boonchuy
Justin Felbinger - Sprig Plantar
Amanda Leighton - Polly Plantar
Bill Farmer - Hopadiah Plantar, Goofy, Pluto, Horace Horsecollar, and Sleepy
Anna Akana - Sasha Waybright
Haley Tju - Marcy Wu
Troy Baker - Captain Grime, Hawkeye/Clint Barton, Loki Laufyson, and Whiplash
Bret Irwin - Mickey Mouse
Kaitlyn Robrock - Minnie Mouse, Webby, Clara Cluck, Fauna, and Felicia Sundew
Tony Anselmo - Donald Duck, Huey, Dewey, and Louie
Tress MacNeille - Daisy Duck, Chip, Gadget Hackwrench, Kanga, Merryweather, Princess Tatiana (TLK), Cannonball, Felix, and Doris
Corey Burton - Dale, Yen Sid, Ludwig Von Drake, Magic Mirror, Grumpy, Mad Hatter, Captain Hook, Frollo, and Chernabog
Matt Braly - Frobo and Chuck
On Braly - Mrs. Boonchuy
Brian Sounalath - Mr. Boonchuy
Keith David - King Andrias and Dr. Facilier
Michelle Dockery - Lady Olivia
Zehra Fazal - General Yunan
Susanne Blakeslee - Maleficent, Evil Queen, Cruella De Vil, and Valeriana
Jim Cummings - Pete, Darkwing Duck, Monterey Jack, Winnie the Pooh, Tigger, King Louie, Kaa, Cheshire Cat, Ed, Don Karnage, Negaduck, Big Bad Wolf, Hondo Ohnaka, the Shocker
Dee Bradley Baker - Bessie, Perry the Platypus, Pinky the Chihuahua, Diogee, Waddles the Pig, and Tick Tock the Crocodile.
April Winchell - Clarabelle Cow, Queen of Heart, Braddock, Fens, Tuti, and Sylvia (Wander Over Yander)
Katie Michelle Crown - Ivy Sundew
Jill Bartlett - Maddie Flour
James Patrick Stuart - One-Eyed Wally and Evil Emperor Zurg
Stephen Root - Mayor Toadstool
Laila Berzins - Sadie Croaker
Brian Maillard - Leopold Loggle
Marlow Barkley - Rosemary Flour
Mia Allan - Lavender Flour
Ella Allan - Ginger Flour
Mona Marshall - Sylvia Sundew
Matt Jones - Percy
Darin De Paul - Bog
Nicole Byer - Gertie
RuPaul Charles - Head of FBI Agent
Jason Marsden - Max Goof
Bernardo De Paula - Jose Carioca
Jaime Camil - Panchito Pistoles
Enn Reitel - Scrooge McDuck
Breck Bennett - Launchpad McQuack
Paget Brewster - Della Duck
Michael Bell - Quacker Jack
Maurice LaMarche - Mortimer Mouse
Rod Roddy - Microphone Mike
Daveigh Chase - Lilo Pelekai
Chris Sanders - Stitch
Tara Strong - Angel and Mary Jane Watson
Kevin Hamilton McDonald - Pleakley and Albus Duckweed
Kevin Michael Richardson - Gantu, Groot, and Mr. Flour
Rob Paulsen - Reuben, Steelbeak, and Gladstone Gander
Christy Carlson Romano - Kim Possible
Will Friedle - Ron Stoppable
John William DiMaggio - Dr. Drakken and Stumpy
Nicole Julianne Sullivan - Shego
Vincent Martella - Phineas Flynn
David Errigo Jr. - Ferb Fletcher
Ashely Tisdale - Candace Flynn
Alyson Stone - Isabella Garcia-Shapiro
Maulik Pancholy - Baljeet Tjinder
Bobby Gaylor - Buford Van Stomm
Dan Povenmire - Heinz Doofesnhmirtz
Jeff "Swampy" Marsh - Major Monogram
Mitchell Musso - Jeremy Johnson
Kelly Hu - Stacy Hirano
Michaela Zee - Ginger Hirano
Ariel Winter - Gretchen
Madison Pettis - Adyson Sweetwater
Diamond White - Holly
Isabella Acres - Katie
Isabella Murad - Milly
Olivia Olson - Vanessa Doofenshmritz
Tyler Alexander Mann - Carl Karl
Jason Ritter - Dipper Pines
Kristen Joy Schaal - Mabel Pines, Trixie, and Bella the Bellhop
Alex Hirsch - Stanley Pines, Soos, Bill Cipher, King Clawthorne, and Hooty
J.K. Simmons - Stanford Pines
Linda Edna Cardellini - Wendy Corduroy
Eden Sher - Star Butterfly
Adam McArthur - Marco Diaz
"Weird Al" Yankovic - Milo Murphy
Sabrina Carpenter - Melissa Chase
Mekai Curtis - Zack Underwood
Chris Houghton - Cricket Green
Marieve Herington - Tilly Green
Bob Joles - Bill Greens and Sneezy
Wendi McLendon-Covey - Nancy Green
Artemis Pebdani - Alice Green
Jeff Bennett - Merlin, Lumiere, White Rabbit, March Hare, Bashful, Mr. Smee, Zazu, and Hamsterviel
Frank Welker - Oswald the Lucky Rabbit, Figaro, Abu, Rajah, Pegasus, Cri-kee, Sparky, Kixx, Spooky, Yin, Yang, Splodyhead, and Slushy
Audrey Wasilewski - Ortensia the Cat
Cary Elwes - Gus the Gremlin
Brad Garret - Eeyore
Travis Oates - Piglet
Tom Kenny - Rabbit
Aidan McGraw - Roo
Pamela Ribon - Snow White
André Sogliuzzo - Doc
Joseph Ricci - Pinocchio
Joe Ochman - Jiminy Cricket
Rosalyn Landor - Blue Fairy
Jennifer Hale - Cinderella
Grey Griffin - Fairy Godmother, Captain Marvel/Carol Danvers and Roxanne
Blayne Weaver - Peter Pan
Kate Higgins - Princess Aurora
Barbara Dirickson - Flora
Charles Fleischer - Roger Rabbit and Benny the Cab
Jodi Benson - Princess Ariel
Philip Lawrence - Sébastien
Pat Carrol - Ursula
Paige O'Hara - Belle
Robby Benson - Beast
Richard White - Gaston
Scott Weinger - Aladdin
Linda Larkin - Princess Jasmine
Dan Castellaneta - Genie and Megavolt
Johnathan Freeman - Jafar
Gilbert Gottfried - Iago
Cam Clarke - Simba
Kevin Schon - Timon and Happy
Ernie Sabella - Pumbaa
Khary Payton - Rafiki
David Oyelowo - Scar
Whoopi Goldberg - Shenzi
Cheech Marin - Banzai
Irene Bedard - Pocahontas
Tom Hanks - Woody
Tim Allen - Buzz Lightyear
Joan Cusack - Jessie
Annie Potts - Bo Peep
John Ratzenberger - Hamm and Yeti
Wallace Shawn - Rex
Pat Fraley - Mr. Potato Head
Estelle Harris - Mrs. Potato Head
Blake Clark - Slinky Dog
Jeff Pidgeon - Little Green Men
Tony Hale - Forky
Madeleine McGraw - Bonnie Anderson
Tate Donavan - Hercules
Susan Egan - Megera
James Woods - Hades
Bobcat Goldthwait - Pain and Nosey
Matt Frewer - Panic
Ming-Na Wen - Fa Mulan
Mark Mosely - Mushu
Billy Crystal - Mike Wazowski
John Goodman - James P. Sullivan and Baloo
Hayden Rolence - Nemo
Albert Brookes - Marlin
Ellen DeGeneres - Dory
Craig T. Nelson - Mr. Incredible
Holly Hunter - Elastigirl
Sarah Vowell - Violet Parr
Huck Milner - Dash Parr
Owen Wilson - Lightning McQueen
Larry the Cable Guy - Tow Mater
Anika Noni Rose - Princess Tiana and Dr. Jan
Bruno Campos - Prince Naveen
Michael-Leon Wooley - Louis
Mandy Moore - Rapunzel
Zachery Levi - Flynn Ryder
Kelly Macdonald - Merida
John C. Reilly - Wreck-It Ralph
Sarah Silverman - Vanellope VonSchweetz
Jack McBrayer - Fix-It Felix Jr., Toadie, Irving Du Bois, and Wander
Jane Lynch - Sergeant Calhoun
Idina Menzel - Elsa
Kristen Bell - Anna
Johnathan Groff - Kristoff
Josh Gad - Olaf
Scott Adsit - Baymax
Ryan Potter - Hiro Hamada
Jamie Chung - GoGo Tomago
Khary Payton - Wasabi
Genesis Rodriguez - Honey Lemon
TJ Miller - Fred Fredrickson
Kaitlyn Dias - Riley Anderson
Amy Poehlher - Joy
Phyllis Smith - Sadness
Mindy Kaling - Disgust
Lewis Black - Anger
Bill Hader - Fear
Ginnifer Goodwin - Judy Hopps
Jason Bateman - Nick Wilde
Auli'i Cravalho - Moana
Dwayne Johnson - Maui
Drake Bell - Spider-Man/Peter Parker
Dove Cameron - Spider-Gwen/Gwen Stacy
Ogie Banks - Kid Arachnid/Mile Morales/Spider-Man
Roger Craig Smith - Captain America/Steve Rogers and Sonic the Hedgehog
Mick Wingert - Iron Man /Tony Stark
Travis Willingham - Thor Odinson
Frederick Owen Tatasciore - Hulk and Soggy Joe
Laura Bailey - Black Widow/Natasha Romanoff
James C. Mathis III - Black Panther/T'Challa
Kathreen Khavari - Ms. Marvel/Kamala Khan
Jack Coleman - Doctor Strange
A.J. LoCasio - Star Lord/Peter Quill
Vanessa Marshall - Gamora
David Sobolov - Drax the Destroyer
Nolan North - Rocket Raccoon and Deadpool/Wade Wilson
Samuel L. Jackson - Nick Fury and Frozone
Clark Gregg - Phil Coulson
Matt Lanter - Venom
Liam O'Brian - Red Skull
Charlie Adler - M.O.D.O.K.
Clancy Brown - Taskmaster and Red Hulk
Anthony Daniels - C-3PO
Daisy Ridley - Rey
John Boyega - Finn
Oscar Isaac - Poe Dameron
James Arnold Taylor - Lieutenant Bek
Adam Drivers - Kylo Ren
Domhall Gleeson - General Hux
Michael Giacchino - FN-3181
Daniel Craig - First Order Stormtrooper
Jeff Leech - First Order Stormtrooper
Matt Vogel - Kermit the Frog, Floyd Pepper, Sweetums, Uncle Deadly, Camilla the Chicken, and Crumpet the Frog
Eric Jacobson - Miss Piggy, Fozzie Bear, Animal, and Sam the Eagle
Dave Goelz - Gonzo, Dr. Bunsen Honeydew, Zoot, Waldorf, and Figment
David Rudman - Scooter, Beaker, and Janice
Bill Barretta - Pepe the King Prawn, Swedish Chef, Dr. Teeth, Rowlf the Dog, and Big Mean Carl
Peter Linz - Walter and Statler
Ikue Otani - Pikachu
Sarah-Nicole Robles - Luz Noceda
Wendie Malick - Eda Clawthorne
Mae Whitman - Amity Blight
Tati Gabrielle - Willow Park
Isaac Ryan Brown - Gus Willow
Zeno Robinson - Hunter
Matthew Rhys - Emperor Belos
#disneydude94#disney#disney crossover#amphibia#amphibia au#amphibia season 3#calamity war#anne boonchuy#sasha waybright#marcy wu#sprig plantar#polly plantar#hop pop plantar#mr. boonchuy#mrs. boonchuy#king andrias#captain grime#mickey mouse#phineas and ferb#gravity falls#disney princesses#the owl house#lilo and stitch#timon and pumbaa#disney pixar#marvel#star wars#muppets#disney fanfiction#fanfiction
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Querido diario
Personajes:
Elio: protagonista, un muchacho de unos 25 años, flaco, alto y de piel pálida, a lo largo de la obra su apariencia física va ir deteriorándose.
Martha: terapeuta, una señora de 65 años, complexión mediana, tiene una voz muy tranquila y calmada.
Garret: molesto compañero del trabajo, un muchacho de 28 años, alto, rubio, con sonrisa perfecta, demasiado blanca, y bronceador tirando a naranja.
Señor Burgan: jefe de la oficina, un hombre de edad adulta, con el cabello con canas, siempre viste elegante, de complexión grande.
Chico de la cafetería: joven de cabello castaño, vestido en un uniforme de trabajo.
Sra. Jazmín: una abuelita, de estatura baja y voz muy amistosa.
Sara: muchacha de cabello castaño y voz gangosa.
Señor de la zapatería: hombre de unos 30 y tantos, con entradas de cabello muy marcadas.
Primer cuadro:
Escena 1:
La escena transcurre en la oficina de Martha, con el aire acondicionado bastante alto, el sillón café, Elio juega nervioso con la manga de su suéter, mientras Martha habla desde el sillón amarillo que se encuentra en el lado contrario del cuarto. La luz es de un sub-tono amarillenta.
MARTHA: Elio, tu progreso ha sido increíble, pero aún siento que nos hace falta abrirnos un poco más
ELIO: ¿Más? ¿No es ya suficiente que tenga que pasar una hora a la semana hablando con usted? (dice elevando la voz cada vez más)
MARTHA: Elio no es necesario usar ese tono conmigo, ya lo sabes (dice con el tono aún más suave y cálido que antes)
ELIO: Perdón (baja la cabeza), es solo que he estado muy estresado últimamente, con eso de las horas extras en el trabajo, no he dormido muy bien que digamos y me siento demasiado cansado e irritable.
MARTHA: Estas horas extras, no las habías mencionado antes, pensé que ya estarías trabajando menos después del ascenso que me hablaste. (toma nota en su libreta roja)
ELIO: Ehhhh sí (se rasca la cabeza con nerviosismo), las horas extras son para ganarle el puesto a Garret
MARTHA: Hablemos de Garret (interrumpe)
ELIO: ¿Qué hay con él?
MARTHA: ¿Cómo vas con él? sé que no te cae muy bien ¿no es así?
ELIO: (se nota tenso) No, es un inútil, la verdad es que no sé qué tanto le ven todos, para mi es una persona normal y corriente, horriblemente corriente. (dice con desagrado)
MARTHA: ¿No crees que estos sentimientos de odio hacia Garret son realmente celos hacia él?
ELIO: ¿Celos a ese pedazo de basura?, no, nunca
MARTHA: Entonces ¿cuál es el problema? ¿te ha hecho algo?
ELIO: No, solo no me cae bien (dice de manera secante)
MARTHA: Elio no te puedo ayudar si tú no me ayudas (dice con amabilidad)
ELIO: (se deja vencer) bueno, hace dos semanas descubrí que Garret “El Perfecto” no era más que una simple estafa, trabajaba hasta tarde y al salir vi como Josh, el nuevo pasante de la oficina, seguía trabajando, no le tomé mucha importancia hasta que volteé y vi que puso una carpeta en el escritorio de Garret, ahora si me interesaba, esperé a que se fuera y fui corriendo a ver que era y Martha no me lo vas a creer, el muy maldito de Garret está utilizando al pobre de Josh para hacer sus reportes semanales
MARTHA: ¿Y ya se lo dijiste a alguien?
ELIO: No (dice con cara de incredulidad)
MARTHA: ¿Qué? ¿por qué?
ELIO: Ya te dije, Garret tiene a toda la oficina en la palma de su mano, todos piensan que es un tipo de mesías o yo qué sé (dice con disgusto)
MARTHA: Elio no es justo que tú te esfuerces de más y dejes que alguien como Garret logre lo que quiere con trampa
ELIO: No hay mucho que pueda hacer, no tengo pruebas, ni siquiera tengo evidencia de que los dos tengan algún tipo de contacto, en la oficina no se dirigen ni una palabra.
MARTHA: pero…
ELIO: pero nada, ya déjalo así Martha
MARTHA: bueno, ya no te molesto más
ELIO: gracias (dice aliviado)
El espacio se queda callado un rato, Elio se la pasa checando su reloj cada cinco segundos mientras que Martha se la pasa escribiendo los puntos más importantes de la reunión en su libreta. El único sonido que se escucha son las manecillas del reloj moviéndose.
MARTHA: ¿Qué te parece la idea de llevar un diario?
ELIO: ¿Un diario? ¿para? (dice con una mueca)
MARTHA: Como te dije antes, vas muy bien, pero Elio, he sido tu terapeuta por cuatro años y cada martes es lo mismo, paso media hora intentando que me cuentes cómo te sientes.
ELIO: Yo… y-yo si confió en ti, no pienses que no (dice nervioso)
MARTHA: Lo sé, no lo estoy diciendo por eso, sino que percibo que ni tú sabes cómo te sientes exactamente, es por eso el diario, así vas a poder escribir tu día a día, reflexionar un poco, preguntarte que te está molestando
ELIO: Eso es demasiado cursi
MARTHA: Bueno, por lo menos escribe una cosa buena que te haya pasado o algo gracioso si quieres
ELIO: Nada bueno pasa en mi vida
MARTHA: Estoy segura de que si, pero estás demasiado ocupado con tu negatividad para poder notarlo
ELIO: Está bien lo intentaré
MARTHA: ¿Me lo prometes?
ELIO: (gira los ojos) Sí Martha te lo prometo
MARTHA: Perfecto, (dice con una gran sonrisa), nos vemos el siguiente martes (se para del sillón alegremente y se dirige a la puerta)
Elio se levanta del sillón, se coloca su mochila en el hombro izquierdo y se dirige en la misma dirección a la que va Martha, sale lentamente de la oficina de Martha con la cabeza hacia abajo, mientras que Martha se ve feliz y tranquila.
ELIO: Nos vemos (dice con una sonrisa a medias)
MARTHA: Que te vaya bien Elio (dice parada en el marco de la puerta), saluda a Garret de mi parte (dice juguetona)
ELIO: (finge una carcajada) Que graciosa eres, creo que deberías dejar de ser terapeuta y volverte comediante
MARTHA: Y eso que no has escuchado mis mejores chistes, sin duda te quedas con el ojo cuadrado
ELIO: (sonríe falsamente) Gracias por todo, de verdad
MARTHA: No hay de qué (hace una reverencia)
Cuadro 2:
Escena 2:
La escena transcurre en el departamento de Elio, toda la habitación está a oscuras, sólo hay una luz que se encuentra sobre él, está trabajando en unos papeles pero el cansancio le está ganando, en el reloj de la pared se ve que son las 4 de la mañana.
Acto seguido Elio se queda dormido y tira la taza de café que está a su derecha, el café se cae en todos los papeles del escritorio. Elio continua dormido.
Escena 3:
Elio se levanta muy apresurado voltea a ver el reloj que marca las 7:30
-ELIO: (con desesperación) ¡Ya se me hizo tarde para el trabajo!
Dirige la mirada a su escritorio, donde se encuentran sus papeles llenos de café seco, los agarra y se lleva la mano a el cabello
-ELIO: No, no, no, esto no puede estar pasando, necesito estos reportes para hoy, el señor Burgan me va a matar si se entera que eché todo a perder
Cuadro 3:
Escena 4:
La escena transcurre en el elevador de la oficina donde trabaja Elio, en él se encuentra una mujer vestida muy elegantemente tomando un café.
Elio llega corriendo a toda velocidad con el cabello húmedo, la camiseta mal abrochada, los pantalones sin planchar y una clara mancha de pasta de dientes en la cara.
-ELIO: ¡Para el elevador por favor! (grita demasiado alto)
- SARA: ¡Dios! Elio me has pegado un susto tremendo
(Sam recorre con la mirada a Elio y hace una mueca)
-SARA: ¿Pero qué te ha pasado? te ves como un muerto viviente, sin duda necesitas esto más que yo (le ofrece su café)
-ELIO: No gracias, (cortante) estoy tomando un descanso de la cafeína (le da una sonrisa forzada)
-SARA: Pues muy bien no te ves amigo
El elevador se abre y Elio sale sin decir ni una palabra, va directo a su escritorio ignorando todas las miradas de preocupación de sus compañeras de trabajo que están secreteando de su apariencia. Mientras camina empieza a acomodar su ropa y cabello, pasa su mano por su mejilla y siente la mancha de pasta, la cual quita con mucha velocidad.
Cuadro 4:
Escena 5:
Elio se encuentra en su cubículo, trabajando en los papeles manchados de café, tratando de salvar alguno de ellos. El señor Burgan, un señor ya de edad adulta, con el cabello lleno de canas, se acerca a su cubículo, usando un traje bastante fino de color azul marino.
BURGAN: Elio, vine a ver si ya están listos los informes que te pedí ayer
ELIO: (nervioso) Se-señor Burgan, fíjese que justamente eso estaba haciendo en estos momentos es-
BURGAN: (groseramente lo interrumpe) Me lo imaginaba, no los has terminado, sabía que se lo tenía que haber pedido a Garret él nunca me decepcionará de esta manera
ELIO: (con la cabeza baja) Disculpe señor, si me da otra oportunidad, en menos de una hora le puedo entregar los papeles.
BURGAN: Tienes media hora (dice cortante y se va)
Elio se pone a trabajar
Cuadro 5:
Escena 6: La escena transcurre en la oficina del señor Burgan, con él está Garret , están conversando y por momentos se carcajean juntos. Se escucha un golpe tímido en la puerta.
BURGAN: ¡Pase!
ELIO: Señor, traigo los papeles que me pidió
BURGAN: ¿Papeles? ¿Qué papeles?
ELIO: Los de la empresa de empaquetados, debía haberlos entregado hace rato, pero no los tenía listos ¿recuerda?
BURGAN: Claro, claro pasa, toma asiento, Garret y yo estamos teniendo una plática sobre el nuevo gerente de plaza
GARRET: El señor Burgan no para de insistir que debería aceptar el trabajo, pero la verdad es que no lo sé, apenas llevo dos semanas trabajando en la oficina, no siento que esté listo para tanta responsabilidad. (dice de manera presumida)
BURGAN: ¿Cómo que no? con tan solo dos semanas ya has hecho más ventas que todos en esta oficina, ¿Qué opinas Elio?
ELIO: (tratando de no ser grosero): Si me disculpa señor no creo que sea el mejor para contestar eso, (deja los papeles en el escritorio y se da la media vuelta), pero en lo personal creo que hay personas mejores capacitadas que Garret (sale de la oficina)
Cuadro 6:
Escena 7:
La escena transcurre al día siguiente en el trabajo, Elio está llegando y se encuentra distraído con su teléfono hasta llegar a su piso, donde nota que todos los presentes tienen unas orejas de conejo en la cabeza. Elio luce perdido, se acerca a su compañera de trabajo más cercana, Sara, cuyas orejas de conejo se mueven al compás de su tarareo.
ELIO: Pssss Sara
SARA: Mmmm ( dice sin mirarlo)
ELIO: ¿Me perdí de algo?
SARA: (lo voltea a ver con mala cara) ¿Algo de qué?
ELIO: ¿Había que disfrazarnos hoy?
SARA: Elio no sé que te hayas metido ayer, pero necesito terminar mi papeleo, ¿puedes ser raro en otro lugar?
ELIO: Si perdón, es que pensé que nos teníamos que disfrazar, ya sabes, lo digo por tus (señala las orejas de conejo)
SARA: (gira los ojos) repito no sé qué tipo de sustancias consumas pero por amor a Dios, deja de consumirlas te están haciendo perder la cordura
ELIO: Creo que necesito un café
SARA: Y yo diría que uno doble, bien cargado
Elio se dirige a la salida, caminando se da cuenta que todas las personas que lo rodean tienen orejas de conejo, los mira confundido y se apresura a hacia la cafetería de enfrente.
Cuadro 7:
Escena 8:
La escena transcurre en la cafetería, Elio es el último de la fila, hay cinco personas más enfrente de él, tiene una mirada de confusión, no para de tallarse los ojos una y otra vez, la gente de su alrededor actúa con total normalidad, hay una pareja tomando café en los sillones de la esquina, un grupo de empresarios trabajando en su computadora, un abuelito leyendo el periódico, todos con orejas de conejo.
Elio voltea hacia el cristal de la entrada de la cafetería y hace una mueca cuando logra ver su reflejo, abre y cierra los ojos con violencia y se empieza a acercar más, cuando ya está lo suficientemente cerca, empieza a tocarse la cara despacio, hasta llegar a sus orejas de conejo.
ELIO: Pero que-
CHICO DE LA CAFETERÍA: ¿Se encuentra bien señor?
ELIO: Tengo orejas de conejo (dice con voz temblorosa)
CHICO DE LA CAFETERÍA: s}Sí, yo igual tengo (dice feliz, apuntándolas)
ELIO: Tú igual tienes (repite sin poderlo comprender)
CHICO DE LA CAFETERÍA: ¿Necesitas algo?, no tienes muy buena pinta
ELIO: Dormir, necesito dormir
CHICO DE LA CAFETERÍA: Espere aquí le pido un taxi
ELIO: gracias
Elio se sienta lentamente en el suelo y lleva sus manos hacia su cabeza, empieza a murmurar “orejas de conejo” una y otra vez.
Cuadro 8:
Escena 9:
La escena transcurre en el departamento de Elio, éste entra a su habitación, busca el espejo que se encuentra en su baño y ya no ve las orejas de conejo, hace una mueca de confusión.
ELIO: Sin duda necesito una buena siesta.
Se acuesta en la cama y cae en un sueño profundo
Escena 10:
Elio se levanta porque es lamido por un pastor alemán, lo cual lo deja aturdido, el perro ladra y Elio da un brinco, se cae de la cama y se golpea la cabeza con la mesa de noche, un portarretrato se le cae encima, Elio ve la foto y abre los ojos con sorpresa.
ELIO: (hablándole al perro) Tú..., ¿eres mi perro?
El perro solo mueve la cabeza a un lado
ELIO: Esto no puede estar pasando (dice agarrando su cabeza)
Elio se acerca al perro y este se acuesta en la cama con calma, Elio agarra el collar y ve que en la placa está el nombre del perro “Poncho” y abajo ve un número telefónico
ELIO: Éste es mi número (señala la placa), éste es mi número
Elio agarra la foto otra vez y se queda analizándola un rato
ELIO: Esto no paso, yo nunca he corrido un maratón, ¡yo no corro! yo nunca he corrido, ¿qué me está pasando?
Elio rompe en llanto, el perro se acerca a él y se acuesta en su pierna para consolarlo.
Cuadro 9: Escena 10:
La escena transcurre en el parque, Elio está jugando con Poncho a la pelota, mientras corren por el césped muy alegres.
Una señora de mediana edad se acerca a Elio, está agarrando a un gato (no importa que garo sea con que este bonito).
SRA. JAZMÍN: Elio, qué bueno verte de nuevo (dice amablemente)
ELIO: Hola señora Jazmín (dice con una sonrisa)
SRA JAZMÍN: ¡Pero mírate! (se acerca a él), estás tan flaco, y te ves muy cansado cariño, ¿estás bien?
ELIO: (suelta una pequeña risa) Estoy bastante bien, solo es el trabajo, he estado un poco ocupado últimamente
SRA JAZMÍN: Con razón no has ido a tomar el té conmigo, Nini extraña mucho a Rogelio
ELIO: ¿Quién es Rogelio? (hace una mueca)
SRA JAZMÍN: Tu gato (dice confundida)
ELIO: Yo no tengo un gato, soy más una persona de perros (mira hacia Poncho)
SRA JAZMÍN: ¡Ay! Elio que gracioso eres (se agacha a acariciar a Poncho), nunca mencionaste tener un pastor alemán
ELIO: Es que no lo tenía, apareció por arte de magia
SRA JAZMÍN: (ríe) Como extrañaba tu sentido del humor, por favor, tienes que hacerte un tiempo para ir a platicar conmigo, incluso compré tu té favorito
ELIO: Claro, la veo el fin de semana ¿le parece?
SRA JAZMÍN: perfecto, no olvides traer a Rogelio.
La señora Jazmín se aleja y Elio se agacha a acariciar al perro
ELIO: Poncho, no tengo ni idea de porque la señora Jazmín cree que tengo un gato, pero te aseguro que no me gusta el té para nada.
Cuadro 10:
Escena 11:
La escena transcurre en el departamento de Elio, está acostado en su cama durmiendo, se mueve de lado y nota que el lado donde Poncho debería estar, está vacío, se levanta y va a buscarlo, primero en la sala, busca detrás del sillón, ve que no está y camina hasta el baño de su cuarto, tampoco lo encuentra, empieza a notarse más desesperado, busca con más rapidez por todo el departamento, gritando su nombre.
Elio se tira a la cama y empieza a llorar, primero son solo unas gotitas, pero con el paso del tiempo se convierte en un sollozo.
Cuadro 11:
Escena 12:
La escena transcurre en la calle, Elio está caminando con la cabeza baja mientras escucha música, solo alza la mirada cuando reconoce el lugar. Al ver una tienda de zapatos su cara cambia a una de confusión, entra a la tienda.
Escena 13:
En la tienda Elio camina hasta el mostrador, donde esta un señor alto y bien arreglado acomodando dinero de la caja registradora.
ELIO: Disculpe
SEÑOR ZAPATERÍA: ¿En qué puedo ayudarle muchacho?
ELIO: ¿Esta es la calle 37?
SEÑOR ZAPATERÍA: Así es
ELIO: Acá debería estar el consultorio de Martha
SEÑOR ZAPATERÍA: Está equivocado, esta zapatería ha estado en esté mismo lugar durante treinta años, es el negocio de mi familia
ELIO: (en un tono irritado) No, está es la dirección del consultorio de Martha
SEÑOR ZAPATERÍA: Vamos a calmarnos, puede ser que se confundiera de calle
ELIO: Llevo viniendo a esta dirección cada martes durante cuatro años, creo que sabría llegar con los ojos cerrados (dice sarcásticamente molesto)
SEÑOR ZAPATERÍA: Bueno lamento decirle que acá no hay ningún consultorio y la única Martha que conozco es mi prima segunda
ELIO: Debo encontrar a Martha
SEÑOR ZAPATERÍA: Déjame buscar su ubicación en internet, ¿Cuál es su nombre completo?
Elio: Martha Jones
El señor de la zapatería busca en su teléfono, después de unos segundos hace una cara de sorpresa.
SEÑOR ZAPATERÍA: Ehhh, no me aparece nada de una terapeuta con ese nombre, el principal resultado es una tenista profesional (le muestra una foto)
ELIO: ¡Ella es Martha!, pero no puede ser, a Martha ni siquiera le gusta el tenis
SEÑOR ZAPATERÍA: No se que decirle señor
ELIO: No, no, no, esto no está pasando nada de esto es real, todo es un sueño, un mal sueño
Elio sale corriendo de la tienda, murmurando “esto no es real, esto no está pasando, debe ser un sueño”
VOZ DE UN NARRADOR: queridos amigos no era un sueño.
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Not what I Expected.
Heya, so this is my very first fanfic and it was ment to be a one shot but it has run away and is taking me along for the ride. Before anyone asks, I do have HC’s for it but no idea how far this will go!
1(Here); 2 ; 3
Anyway here’s Chapter 1:
Takes place during CM: BB episode 5 “ The Lonely Heart”
The case just didn't make any sense what so ever. First, the eyes were mutilated, then the head was removed. What was the connection and what were they missing? Matt Simmons was sitting in the park near a school trying to clear his head as he asked himself those questions. In the distance, he could see a man feeding the pigeons and a policeman arguing with someone over a parking ticket. He closed his eyes trying to keep himself focused, forehead resting in his hands and his elbows on his knees.
“Sir?” He looked up again at the sound of a soft feminine voice. “Are you alright?” the voice continued.
Matt sighed. “I'm alright, just trying to figure out the answers to something,” he replied then looked at the person talking to him. She was fair-skinned with ravens wing black hair that shone blue in the sunlight. Her eyes were a vivid blue, yet somehow, strikingly familiar, and she had freckles on her nose. If he had to guess her age he'd have said she was possibly 15 at most.
“ If you stuck on a question and don't have all the answers, why don't you think of something different for a while? I find that always helps me when I'm trying to design and can't quite get it to look right.”
“What do you suggest I think about then?” Matt asked with a smile.
“Well, I heard your stomach grumble so maybe you should think about some food? Or you could think about something you know will make you happy.” It was at this moment a scream was heard. Matt was instantly searching for the source of the scream. “Oh, not again!” The girl seemed almost exasperated and he was struck by how familiar it seemed. She looked at him calmly and said: “Head to the bakery that's behind you, tell the woman at the counter that Marinette sent you and she should help you.”
“Wait I could-”
She cut him off before he could continue, “No offence but you'll only be in Ladybug and Chat Noir's way if you try help out. I'm going to try to keep Alya from getting killed, not that she'll listen to me anyway!” The last part was said in a disgusted mutter and Matt made a mental note to ask her about it. It would have to be later though as she had already disappeared from sight.
Matt shrugged, he might as well do as the girl said. Marinette, she said her name was Marinette. Even as he walked to the bakery his mind lingered on how familiar she seemed, yet he knew he had never met her before. As he entered the bakery he was hit was the mouth-watering scent of fresh bread and pastries.
“Welcome to Tom & Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie, I'm Sabine Cheng, please feel free to look around and if you have any questions or would like to place an order I'll be with you as soon as I can!” The voice was cheerful yet edged with exhaustion and came from a small woman who looked very similar to Marinette.
Must be her mother, he thought. He was quiet for a second then said “I was sent here by Marinette when the screaming started. She said you could explain it to me as she was going to try to stop a friend of hers from getting hurt.”
“Oh! It's just an Akuma attack, we have them quite regularly these days, unfortunately.” She then told him everything that she could about the attacks and how they were handled. At one stage Jack Garret called to get an update and Matt explained where he was and that he would give a full debrief when he got back to the station. Suddenly, a swarm of red ladybugs seemed to fly through the air and Matt watched as everyone instantly relaxed again. Sabine smiled, “Looks like Ladybug and Chat Noir won again, I hope they didn't have too much trouble!”
Before Matt could ask what she meant Marinette walked through the door. Her hair was messy and she seemed to be trying to hide her face, her eyes downcast.
“Marinette?” Sabine asked softly. Marinette looked up, a bright red handprint was visible on the face and it was slightly swollen. “What happened?” Sabine hurried over to her daughter and looked at her closely. “Who hit you?” Marinette sighed
“Ayla did, Maman, Lila told her that I was trying to make Nino cheat on her and Ayla just took off. She refused to listen to me when I said it wasn't true!”
Matt frowned, “Does Lila often do this type of thing? You seem resigned about how this has happened.”
Sabine looked at Marinette and seemed to come to a decision. “Let me close up the shop and we can head upstairs to talk about this.” Marinette seemed about to protest so Matt spoke up.
“I'm with law enforcement so maybe I can help come up with solutions with you. You have helped me today so please, let me help you.” Marinette pouted, then winced as it pulled her skin.
“Ok, I guess I need to put ice on this too.”
Sabine walked to the door and flipped the sign then led the way upstairs.
“Where do you want me to start?” Marinette said warily, her eyes closed. She held an icepack wrapped in a thin towel lightly against the throbbing handprint on her face.
Sabine looked at Matt and seemed to come to a decision.
“While your papa and I know most of this it might be best for you to start at the beginning so that SSA Simmions can get a clear idea of everything that has happened. He might be able to see something that could help.”
Marinette kept her eyes closed but nodded in understanding.
“It all started with a new girl joining our class...” Marinette then told Matt everything that had happened since Lila had joined her class. She spoke about Mr Agreste's book and how Lila had stolen it, she spoke about the fact that she had been threatened in the bathroom and her near Akumatisation. She spoke about how her teacher kept saying she had to set an example for the rest of her class. As she spoke she seemed to almost fold into herself as she fought to keep herself from falling apart.
Matt was stunned as he listened. Here was a girl whole had gone out of her way to help him, a stranger, who did all she could to help everyone she could and yet this was the nightmare that she was living with. He wondered how she hadn't snapped yet, after all, he'd delt with unsubs who had snapped after far less. He also couldn't help but see his sons in her place and had to fight to stop himself from getting angry on her behalf. All the while he kept thinking that she reminded him of someone, he just wished he knew who it was. Then she said something that had him snapping to attention.
“Wait did you just say she claimed to be related to David Rossi, the author?”
“Yes, it's one of the few names I didn't recognise to I don't know if she is lying about that one or not. They have the same surname but that doesn't mean anything and to be honest, she could be lying about her name and none of us would know.”
“I can make some calls to check but I'm pretty sure Dave only has a grandson and no granddaughters, certainly none that would be your age.” He was about to say more but at that moment his phone went off. It was Clara saying that Jack was getting annoyed with how long he had been away and that they had a lead.
“You have to go don't you?” Marinette's voice was slightly hoarse from talking so much.
“Unfortunately yes but I would like to keep in contact and see what I can do to help.”
“Well then,” Sabine spoke up from the kitchen “You and your team are welcome to come round for a meal or even coffee to help relax before you fly home. I won't take no for an answer, either.”
“I'll tell the team. In the meantime here is my card and if I can get your number I'll call as soon as I can, either with ideas to help Marinette or when we are done.” Matt smiled slightly then he looked at Marinette. “As for you little lady, I will get hold of David to double-check about his family and do a bit of research to see what I can find.”
“You don't have to-” Marinette started.
“How could I not? I have children of my own and if they were in your situation I would do all I could to help them, just as your parents have done. I just happen to have more resources at my disposal,” he said with a wink.
Marinette smiled her first true smile of the afternoon as far as Matt could see, then nodded.
“Ok, then Agent Simmons.”
“Call me Matt.” He smiled, “I'll see you soon.”
As he left he thought over what he had heard. He also thought about why some of the things she did as well as her eyes seemed familiar. It was only as he scrolled through his list of contacts to find Garcia's name and saw one in particular that he realised why that was. Her eyes had the same tired quality as most BAU agents he knew but even without that, he should have recognised them. After all one of his contacts had the same eyes, identical in colour, shape and depth. Aaron Hotchner.
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The White Knight - Chapter Seven
-> KNIGHT!KITA SHINSUKE X PRINCESS!READER
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Summary: Worrying about your friend was taking a toll on you. What happened to her? How badly did she get injured? Would she survive? Or was she dead already?
Words: 3,017
Warnings: talks of death/sickness (brief), parental death, depression
Kita's Point Of View
Another groan left your throat as you tried to find a comfortable position on the bed. The wet cloth on your forehead slipped down a bit as you turned to your side, facing Kita. Not long ago, Clara had changed the cloth that she placed over your eyes and forehead to ease the headache that had developed, but you apparently did not feel the promised effect. Frustrated, you ripped it off of your face.
With a grim expression, you looked over at Kita. Right beside your bed, he had placed a chair and taken a seat to make sure you were actually resting. Right after he had told you that Garret had attacked your best friend, he had had to carry you back to your bed. Everything had just become too much for your already exhausted body and mind to bear. Kita and Clara had hoped that you would find some rest, but the moment that you had come back to your senses, you had tried to go and see your friend. Your legs were shaking and your forehead was damp with cold sweat, but you were still determined to go and see her. Only, they had orders not to let you go.
It hurt Kita to see you in such a state and perhaps he would have even let you go against his orders if he knew that Alysane was alive and out of danger. But he didn't know. He didn't know what exactly had happened to her, he didn't know if she was going to make it out alive. The mere thought made his heart sink. What if she was really going to die? The nice Lady that always smiled at him when they passed each other in the hallway, the one that always asked you if you were alright whenever she saw you, the one that threw stray dogs a bite of her food when she saw one. Kita didn't know her well, but it was obvious that she was a kind woman who did not deserve to die at the hands of a man like Garret. If the thought of her dying made him feel this bad, what was it doing to you? And what was it doing to Osric?
So, as long as there were no news about what the situation was, he could not let you go. It would be hard enough if your friend were to pass away, you did not need to burst into her room and see her dead body. That was why every time you tried to get up and out of bed, he gently caught a hold of your shoulders and pushed you back down, even if he knew that it was not what you thought was the best for you. But sometimes you don’t know what is best for you. Maybe Kita did not know what was best for you either, but he was there to protect you from any harm and he would stay true to his oath of keeping you safe. Even if it made you angry.
And it did. For the very first time, you were actually angry with your knight, glading daggers at him any chance you got.
“She will be fine, princess.” His voice was low and gentle. He hoped that it would be true. It had to be.
The information he had received on what had happened to Alysane was very sparse: Garret had tried to escape the castle and as he did, he stole a dagger somehow. And when he - unfortunately - ran into Alysane, he attacked her. He had been angry with her when he had spoken to you and apparently, he had seen an opportunity to release that anger. But the extent of her injuries and whether she would make it or not was still something he did not know anything about.
“You don’t know if she’ll be alright. Stop lying to me.” You sighed. “I don't know what to do, Kita.” You squeezed your eyes shut. “I want this all to be over.. please.”
His heart squeezed in his chest, it hurt to hear you talk like this. You were supposed to be happy. If there was anyone in this whole world who deserved happiness, it had to be you. And he was supposed to make sure that you were. Why was he such a failure? “It will get better.” It had to be. Just like Alysane had to live, you had to be happy. That was just the way things were supposed to be. And if the universe would not let that happen, there had to be no order or justice anywhere left in the world.
“Nothing will get better, Kita. Nothing will ever get better. Everything went down the drain after mother's death.”
Your mother had not been dead for long, less than ten years now. Still, that was a long time to be sad. Though, he knew that feeling.
“I lost my parents, too.” Kita's confession made you look up and he greeted you with a smile. A soft, sad smile that he hoped would help calm you down. “It happened a long time ago, when I was very small. My grandmother raised me after that.”
“I am so sorry.” You moved your hand from under the covers and reached for him.
“It's alright.” His hand met yours. “I am alright now. But I know what it is like to think that nothing will ever be good again. When my parents died, I was so young, I couldn't even understand what was happening. But the longer I stayed with my grandmother, the longer I waited for my parents to come back again, the lonelier I felt. When I finally realized that they were never coming back, I thought I would never be happy again.” He looked down at your joined hands, sadness evident on his face. “It was a cruel thing to think, I know. My grandmother was there for me day and night, making sure I was well-fed and safe, and I still felt alone. I still could not find happiness in her love. But that was just the way I felt, I could not change it, no matter how much I wanted to be happy. It took me a long time to start seeing the good things in my life again. But when I started, I couldn't stop. I saw children playing outside. I saw my grandmother cooking our dinner. I saw our neighbor helping my grandmother with her garden.” His eyes locked onto yours. “I saw good things everywhere. And you will, too. It feels horrible to be alone. It is horrible, but it is not forever. Things will get better. You will get better.” He looked at you intently for a moment, carefully considering his next words. His hand squeezed yours gently as he proceeded to speak. “You will be loved.. and happy. If I have any say in it.”
There was no room for any doubts. You would be loved. You would be happy. He knew you would be because it was true. It had to be true. If it wasn't true that a woman so good like you would find love and happiness , there was nothing good left in this world.
You looked up at him with glossy eyes, an unidentifiable emotion in them. Your hand gripped his a little tighter, pulling him closer to you. You opened your mouth, took a deep breath and said - nothing.
Just when you were about to say whatever it was you were going to say, there was a knock on the door.
“Princess?” a guard called through the wood. “I have news about the Lady Alysane.”
Immediately, your hand pulled itself out of his in order to push your upper body up, trying to get yourself into a sitting position.
“Come in!” You shouted.
—
Your Point Of View
Clara had tried to stop you from leaving but without Kita's help, she could not contain your sheer will and determination to finally, finally see your friend again.
Since the guard had announced that your friend was not dead or about to die and that her injury had been treated, it seemed that Kita was no longer opposed to you seeing her. He probably knew how much you wanted to see her. Of course he knew. As much as he held back his own emotions, as composed as he was all the time, it was obvious just how compassionate he was, how much he cared. How did you get so lucky to be able to choose him as your knight? He was a gift sent from heaven just for you. He had to be.
You reached the door to Alysane's door quite quickly, even though you weren't supposed to overexert yourself. You tried to calm your breathing so that Kita would not realize how exhausted you already were. Though he did not say anything, you were sure that he noticed anyway. But that did not matter. What mattered was that the only thing standing in between you and your friend was a door and a guard with a worried look on his face. What did he want now? Couldn't people just let you through to your friend?!!
“Move.”
Usually, you did not speak to guards or maids in such a harsh manner, but your patience was truly about to become nonexistent. If he would not move and let you through that goddammit door, you would - well you didn't know what you would do. Maybe ask Kita to punch him. You'd hope that your personal knight knew how to knock people out good.
“Yes, princess.” The guard bowed slightly and looked back up at you with the same worried expression. “Just.. keep in mind that she needs rest. And that the wound that she was dealt is quite-”
“Yes, I get it!” You were about to truly yell at this man. And you knew that no man likes it when a woman makes a scene. Especially when that woman is the princess. If you had to be composed all the time and keep all your emotions to yourself, you might as well use these annoying rules in your favor once in a while. Threatening to make a scene, it was an easy way to get what you wanted - and let off some steam.
Quickly, the man moved to the side and allowed you to finally open the door and walk into the dark room.
The curtains were drawn close and the already dim light of the already low sun was blocked out of the room almost entirely. A few candles were lit throughout the room and the soft light allowed you to make out Alysane's form on the bed. Her body was covered by her blanket, leaving only her face exposed. Or well, it would have been exposed had it not been for the bandages covering most of her face.
“Alysane..” Your feet brought you to her side as quickly as your exhaustion allowed them to. What had happened to her? “What did he do to you?” you whispered, not expecting a reply from your passed out friend.
“Garret slashed her face. It will take time to heal,” the guard that had been outside said instead. Both him and Kita were slowly following you into the room.
“Will.. will she be alright?” As disturbing as she looked right now, you could not bring yourself to look away from her. How could a single man hurt you both so bad? How could this happen? And how could you help?
“She will heal. Luckily he did not injure her eye but it will still take a long time until she will be able to go out in public again.”
“Did you see the wound?” Kita asked him.
“I did. It.. it is very big. From her jaw over her cheek up to her nose. I doubt she will look as beautiful as she did before, which is a real shame considering-”
“Get out!” Now you were truly angry. “Is this all that you care about?!” You got up, stalking towards the man who looked terrified by your sudden outburst. “My friend was almost murdered and the first thing that you care to talk about is how she won't be beautiful anymore?” What was wrong with this man?
Defensively, he raised his hands. “I - I did not mean-”
“Sir Kita?” You were done.
“Yes, princess?” You could hear his metal armor clinging as he moved beside you, his voice low and composed.
“Remove this man from my presence.”
“With pleasure.”
It was the first command of this kind that you had given your knight. Usually, you did not enjoy making other people hurt someone else for you. You did not like to overreact and potentially hurt someone too much or to do them wrong. But this man deserved to be removed from this room. Maybe be pushed into a wall on the way out. And Kita wanted to protect you from any harm in any form right?
You didn't even bother to keep looking at this man. He was not worth your time, he was not even good enough to be in the same room as you.
You turned around as Kita grabbed the man and pushed him out of the room as you resumed your previous spot next to your friend. This time, you knelt down next to her, brushing through the few exposed strands of her hair. What did it matter if she was beautiful? She was your friend. She was alive and you loved her. That was all that mattered.
You could not tell how long you sat next to Alysane’s resting form. It probably was not that long, but you could feel the exhaustion seep into your bones. Every muscle in your body was begging you to take a rest, to lay down, but you refused to leave your friend. Sitting next to her on the bed, you stroked over the outline of her arm underneath the covers. You listened to her quiet breaths and watched the part of her face you could see, monitoring her for any sign of discomfort or pain. Quietly, you prayed that she would wake up. But you knew that that would probably take some time. She needed to rest - like you were supposed to.
Kita returned to your side, stepping away from his spot by the window. For the past few minutes, he had been standing there, the curtain pulled just a bit to the side to allow him to peek outside. What he had been looking at you did not know, nor did you particularly care. All that mattered right now was Alysane. If it was something important, you were sure Kita would tell you, anyway. If he didn't, it probably wasn't something you needed to be thinking about. You were thankful for every small concern he kept away from you, allowing you to fully focus on the situation at hand.
“Princess?” He carefully approached you. “It is time to return to your chambers. You need to rest.”
“I can't leave her alone.”
You were hunched over, your neck hurt, your eyes hurt. But you couldn't leave.
“We'll find a new guard to keep an eye on her. And tomorrow we will come back and visit her again.”
You gave in. Of course you did, because he was right. He was always right. And you already knew who you wanted to keep an eye on Alysane.
“I need to find out where Osric is.”
Kita smiled at you. “I think I can help you with that.”
Just a few minutes later, Osric was standing in the doorway of Alysane's room. Kita had opened the curtains of the window he had been standing in front of before and motioned for Osric to come inside. Apparently the knight had been outside in the courtyard already, looking up to Alysane's room. It shouldn't surprise you as much as it did but with all of the chaos inside your head, you had not had the time to think about Osric too much.
Careful not to make too much noise, he walked into the room slowly, eyes only ever trained on Alysane.
“Is she alright? I heard that something had happened but..” He swallowed. “I didn't know exactly what. They wouldn't let me in and.. and I didn't know what was going on.”
“Garret attacked her after he attacked me,” you explained. “There is a large wound on her face, but she will live.” If the wound does not get infected, you added in your head, but did not dare to say out loud, scared of speaking it into existence.
“Oh, right.” Osric's eyes snapped over at you. “He - he attacked you too, right? Are you-”
“I'm fine,” you reassured him. “And I would be even better if I knew my friend in safe hands.”
Osric nodded slowly, his eyes panning back to look at Alysane again. He looked uncertain, almost scared. Like a deer caught in headlights.
Kita walked up to him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “She will be fine. Just keep an eye on her, alright?”
With the dim light in the room, you could not be sure, but for just a moment you thought you could see tears glimmering in Osric’s eyes when he looked at Kita. Then, he nodded and went to sit on one of the chairs placed close to the bed.
“A maid will come and check in every now and then, too,” you told him as you tried to push yourself up from where you were still sitting on the bed. Kita somehow appeared by your side, a strong hand under your arm helping you up. He held out his arm after that, offering it to you for support as you made your way back to your room on wobbly legs.
Before you left your friend, you shot a last glance at her and Osric, who's eyes were still focused on Alysane.
She would be alright.
-> Next Chapter
#kita x reader#kita#kita x you#kita x y/n#knight!kita#medival au#kuta shinsuke#kita shinsuke x reader#kita shinsuke x you#kita shinsuke x y/n#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x you#haikyuu#kita haikyuu#comfort#hurt/comfort#angst
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Day 29: Distance
Fandom: Tales of Phantasia Character(s): Ami Burklight Words: 1381 Rating: Mature (Character death, child death, literally all the deaths) Author’s Notes: Realized that I somehow haven’t written any angst for ToP yet. Decided I should fix that. :)
Ami was hiding under the bed. She was shaking so much, scared tears dripping down her face and the only reason she wasn’t sobbing in fear was because of her hand clasped over her nose and mouth so no noise would escape. She still couldn’t believe that any of this had happened. Chester and Cress had left to go for a hunt, and then about an hour later, she had heard the first scream.
A scream cut short by the wet sound of a blade ripping through flesh near the entrance to Toltus, not far from her house. She wondered if had been Clara that screamed. Maybe one of the new visitors to the town. She didn’t want to know.
She hoped Chester came soon. She hoped that he would never come. She wanted him to save her. She didn’t want him to see any of this.
The sound of the town’s bell ringing had come soon after, a clanging sound that filled her head and almost convinced her to remove her hands from her mouth to her ears. Considering the heavy footfalls and clank of armor that soon followed up the stairs, she was glad she hadn’t. At least Garret had made it up to ring the bell in the first place. Even off in the forest, Chester and Cress should be able to hear it and come quickly.
She was so scared. Ami could smell smoke and fire in the air now. She had heard the priest and nun ushering people into the church, promising protection under the light of Saint Lenios. She thinks it was the first building that they set on fire. There were still screams as people burned to death in the church, she thinks that the invaders barricaded the door so no one could escape the flames.
Why wasn’t Cress’s father doing anything? Wasn’t he supposed to be a skilled swordsman, with a dozen pupils under his training? Why weren’t they fighting back? Or had they tried and already fallen?
Ami doesn’t think Cress would have. Cress is so strong, so kind. He would have been able to beat these guys in no time. She holds the doll of Cress she had made tighter to her chest to protect her. It was supposed to be a gift for him, but she hadn’t quite finished sewing it until just before the knights came. She hopes she can still give it to him. For now though, it’s enough to make her believe that Cress and her brother will come. It gives her the strength to stay quiet.
A couple of the knights are still smashing around on second floor of the house. And a couple more are on the floor below. The two with her are breaking open wardrobes and dressers, looking for her or anything valuable, she isn’t too sure. Ami watches in wide-eyed horror as the feet of one of the step into her view from under the bed, stepping uncaringly onto the pillow that she had forgotten to throw back onto the bed this morning. The metal boots are covered in horrifying mixture of red, brown, and black. She shrinks back as far as she can against the wall.
She wonders if any of the blood on the boots, tracking bloody footprints across her once clean floor, belonged to Ruth and Desmond. They were supposed to be getting married next month. It was all the two of them would ever talk about. Instead, she had heard Desmond yell at Ruth to run while he held them back. A strangled, wet gasp had quickly followed, followed almost immediately by a heart-shattering scream that was silenced almost as soon as it had begun. She hopes that they’re in heaven together at least.
Thankfully, the boots leave her view and she almost sobs in relief at the sight. But she doesn’t, hand still clasped tightly over her mouth and her other clenched white-knuckled at the Cress doll for strength. There’s a grunt of anger, and then an apple slowly rolls into her view from where she had placed it on the desk by the window. The red skin is now marred with bruises and the color reminds her of blood on the knights boots.
She hopes Mr Findley from Goalie was able to hide or get away. He was always so nice to her, giving her apples because he knew they were her favourites. Especially after her parent’s were killed by brigands a few years back when they had been bringing back supplies for him to sell.
Ami doesn’t think she’s gonna like apples anymore after this.
Why wasn’t Chester here yet? He should have heard the bell ringing by now surely. Soon, he was going to be here to save her soon. Right?
And the, Ami hears it. The sound of the boots going down the stairs and about to leave. She can’t believe her luck. She’s going to be okay! They never found her!
“There’s nothing upstairs General. No pendant.”
Pendant? Like the one Cress wears all the time? They’re looking for him? She hopes he stays far away and doesn’t come here. She doesn’t want Cress to die too.
“You’re sure?”
“Yessir. We both ransacked any drawer there was up there and there was no pendant to be found. If it’s actually in this village, then the person who has it ain’t here.”
“And you made sure to leave no witnesses behind?”
“There was no one up there either. House was silent as a ghost. Think we killed everyone already.”
“You morons!” There’s a sudden clatter of metal ringing to the ground the floor below and a wet splash. “The oven’s on and there’s food cooking! Of course someone’s here! Now go and find them!”
The mabo curry. They knew she was here. They knew she was here and they dumped the mabo curry. She heard the clanging of metal boots climb the stairs again and closed her eyes. She prayed to Saint Lenios. Maybe if she stayed quiet and didn’t move, they wouldn’t find her.
Soon enough the boots were back in front of her eyes, but instead of retreating as they did before, there was a pair of hands under the frame. And Chester’s bed, the one she had been hiding under, was flipped over and up as the bed fell to the floor with a loud shatter and splintering of wood.
Ami looked terrified into the covered face of the knight and screamed. Where was Chester? Where was her big brother?
She tried to scramble to her feet and run past the knight, somehow managing to dodge the hands and sword he held. And ran straight for the open hole in the wall where the a window once was. She could jump. The ground wasn’t very far, wasn’t it? She could jump and survive surely.
Where is Chester?
Before she can jump, there’s a hand at the back of her dress and lifting her up. Her screams turn into terrified sobs as the hand lifts her higher. And then a sudden burning sensation in her stomach as a sword pierces her back and out the front and she is dropped uselessly to the floor. She curls up into a ball as blood bubbles out between her fingers and onto the Cress Doll she is still clutching onto.
Where was Chester? Why didn’t her big brother come save her? Didn’t he love her anymore?
“There. That should be the only one. There’s no one else under any of the other beds. We’re done here.”
Ami hears them leave, but the sound is faint, muffled through the fog that’s clouded her brain.
Maybe they already killed Chester. That’s why he wasn’t here. He tried, but they killed him anyway.
She’s starting to feel cold now. It’s at odd with the fires raging around town. She wonders if this was how her mom and dad felt when they died. Maybe she would get to see them again. That would be nice.
So tired. Can barely keep her eyes open.
“AMI! AMI!”
Chester. She could hear him running up the stairs, tripping the third step like always did when he was in a hurry. He was alive. He came for her after all.
He ca
#pride month prompt challenge#my writing#tales of phantasia#ami burklight#tw: death#tw: child murder#tw: murder#just all the murder#top is a depressing came when it comes down to it okay#well that was fun#gonna go sew to make myself feel better now#only 1 left though!
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Três maneiras diferentes de ser… Renault 5 Turbo!
Com um passado glorioso nos ralis, a dinastia “Renault 5 Turbo” colecionou momentos especiais, mas nem todos se concentraram na mesma versão. “Cévennes”, “Tour de Course” e “Maxi Turbo” escreveram páginas diferentes, mas igualmente importantes na história dos ralis. Como distinguir as três versões que celebrizaram o R5 Turbo? A resposta nas linhas que se seguem…
Renault 5 Turbo “Cévennes”
A primeira versão de competição do Renault 5 Turbo chamava-se “Cévennes”, em memória ao segundo lugar conquistado no Rally Cévennes de 1980, pela dupla Jean Ragnotti-Jean Marc Andrié. Não foi a estreia do carro, mas sim o seu primeiro resultado de relevo, que permitiu à Renault Sport ter a certeza de dispor um carro competitivo para os clientes que nele apostassem.
Na prática, este foi o segundo R5 Turbo (uma vez que os primeiros, denominados apenas “Renault 5 Turbo”, se baseavam ainda nos protótipos desenvolvidos pela Renault Sport), mas o primeiro a fazer história.
Tratando-se da primeira evolução-cliente de competição, o modelo inscrito em Grupo 4, podia ser vendido “chave na mão” pela fábrica de Dieppe ou poderia ser adquirido com a instalação de um kit de competição específico e desenvolvido de acordo com as necessidades do automóvel para os ralis, ao longo de 300 horas de trabalho.
Entre os seus trunfos, estava o motor turbo de 1397 cm3 (ou seja, 2 litros de cilindrada depois de feita conversão da taxa de 1.4 de sobrealimentação), capaz de debitar 185 cv (mais 25 cv que a versão de série) e 280 Nm de binário, transmitidos às rodas traseiras. Números muito respeitáveis… há 40 anos!
O “Cévennes” esteve no ativo entre 1980 e 1982 e, no seu palmarés desportivo, deixou registada a primeira vitória da Renault no Campeonato do Mundo de Ralis, mais precisamente no Rali de Monte Carlo de 1981, com Jean Ragnotti e Jean-Marc Andrié. Mas do seu palmarés, consta também o segundo triunfo do modelo na Volta à Córsega de 1982, novamente com a dupla Ragnotti/Andrié, mas aí já com uma versão mais evoluída do Renault 5 Turbo (ainda inscrita em Grupo 4), denominada “Cévennes 2”.
A par destes momentos altos no WRC, nos seus três anos de atividade, o “Cévennes” conquistou também a glória em inúmeras provas de campeonatos nacionais, uma boa parte em França.
Principais características:
Data de lançamento: junho 1981
Número de unidades produzidas: 20 (competição-cliente)
Cores: carroçaria amarelo Renault e interiores pretos
Carroçaria: coque de asfalto reforçada em diversos pontos, em aço, alumínio e polipropileno, com portas em alumínio, capot e para-choques dianteiro e traseiro em poliéster, e tampa da mala em alumínio e polipropileno.
Motor: 1.397 cm3 (WRC x 1.4 = 1.956 cm3), sobrealimentado com Turbo Garret T3. Pré-equipado com um kit de competição que incrementa a potência até aos 185 cv
Transmissão: Tração traseira. Caixa de 5 velocidades. Diferencial autoblocante.
Suspensão: Triângulos duplos com molas, amortecedores telescópicos a gás com barra estabilizadora
Travões: 4 discos ventilados com repartidor de travagem no interior
Rodas: Jantes de série equipadas com pneus TRX VR Michelin
Estrutura de segurança: Arco de Segurança com 10 pontos
Peso: 925 kg
Renault 5 Turbo “Tour de Corse”
Após a vitória na Volta à Córsega de 1982, a Renault Sport queria oferecer aos seus clientes a possibilidade de tirarem todo o partido das especificações dos carros oficiais, tal como já tinha acontecido com a versão “Cévennes”. O Renault 5 Turbo “Tour de Corse” é materialização dessa vontade, passando também a responder às novas exigências da FISA (Federação Internacional do Desporto Automóvel) e da criação do então novo “Grupo B”.
Mantendo a sua política de clientes, e tal como acontecia com o “Cévennes”, a Renault Sport vendia o “Tour de Corse” em regime “chave na mão” ou através de um kit de adaptação das unidades de série. Na prática, das 20 unidades produzidas, apenas oito foram criadas de raiz, com 12 a serem conversões de unidades “Cévennes”.
Numa fase posterior, o “Tour de Corse” também pôde servir de base para a conversão na versão “Maxi Turbo”, conforme as especificações do automóvel da equipa oficial.
Antes disso, o modelo esteve no ativo entre 1983 e 1986 (foi o Renault 5 Turbo de competição com maior longevidade competitiva), conquistando a sua coroa de louros mais brilhante, na célebre, mas dramática vitória do Rali de Portugal de 1986, pelas mãos da equipa portuguesa Renault Galp e da dupla Joaquim Moutinho e Edgar Fortes.
Principais características:
Data de comercialização: janeiro 1983
Número de unidades produzidas: 20 (cliente-competição)
Cores: Carroçaria amarelo Renault
Carroçaria: Monocoque reforçada com arco de segurança
Motor: 1.397 cm3 (WRC x 1.4 = 1.956 cm3) sobrealimentado por Turbo Garrett T3. Potência de 240 a 300 CV (dependendo do kit)
Transmissão: Tração traseira. Caixa de 5 velocidades e diferencial autoblocante
Suspensão (dianteira): Triângulos duplos. Barras de torsão longitudinais ligadas ao triângulo inferior. Amortecedores telescópicos a gás. Barra estabilizadora
Suspensão (traseira): Triângulos duplos com molas. Amortecedores telescópicos a gás. Barra estabilizadora
Travões: 4 Discos ventilados (de 260, 277 ou 304 mm à frente e atrás) com repartidor de travagem no interior
Rodas: Jantes “Minilite” equipadas com pneus TRX Michelin
Estrutura de Segurança: Arco de segurança com 16 pontos
Peso: 930 kg
Renault 5 MAXI TURBO
Homologado pela FISA em dezembro de 1984, o Renault 5 Maxi Turbo assumiu-se, em 1985 e 1986, como a resposta da Renault à escalada de evolução dos veículos de Grupo B no Campeonato do Mundo de Ralis.
Na verdade, o salto face ao “Tour de Corse” foi enorme, tendo a Renault Sport colocado todos os esforços no fabrico daquele que se tornaria o mais potente e eficiente carro de duas rodas motrizes da geração dos “Super Grupo B”.
Desenvolvido a partir do seu antecessor, o “Maxi” concentrava grande parte da sua evolução no motor, que viu a sua cilindrada aumentada para 1.527 cm3 (correspondente, na prática, a 2.138 cm3) e atingir níveis de potência nunca antes alcançados pelo modelo, e que se cifravam então nos 350 cv para apenas 905 kg de peso! Mas tão importante quanto a subida de potência, era a forma como ela passou a ser entregue, sendo muito mais reduzido o tempo de resposta do turbo, com claras vantagens na facilidade de condução.
A otimização da suspensão e das vias dianteiras e traseiras, que foram alargadas, permitiram pneus mais largos e superior motricidade, algo para o qual as evoluções no capítulo aerodinâmico também tiveram um papel decisivo. Esta área foi especialmente bem explorada, merecendo toda a atenção dos engenheiros da Renault Sport, que aplicaram ao Renault 5 Maxi Turbo generosos apêndices aerodinâmicos à frente e atrás, trabalhados em túnel de vento, conferindo-lhe um “look” tão espetacular como eficiente a “colar” o automóvel ao chão.
Contudo, apesar de se mostrar muito competitivo nos ralis de asfalto, a falta de quatro rodas motrizes, penalizava sobremaneira a competitividade do “Maxi”, sobretudo, em traçados mais sinuosos. E numa altura em que as viaturas de tração integral se tornavam a referência e eram praticamente imbatíveis, nem isso impediu que a versão “state-of-art” do Renault 5 Turbo se demarcasse nalgumas provas, chegando mesmo a vencer a Volta à Córsega de 1985, quando Jean Ragnotti e Pierre Thimonier, com o Renault 5 Maxi Turbo da equipa oficial “Renault Elf Phillips”, levaram de vencidas as estruturas oficiais da Lancia, Audi e Peugeot.
Fora do WRC, o palmarés do Maxi Turbo também é impressionante com com pilotos de renome como o próprio Ragnotti, Carlos Sainz e François Chatriot a somarem, juntos, 14 triunfos, na versão que, para todos os efeitos, marcou a apoteose do Renault 5 Turbo, verdadeiro ícone dos ralis.
Principais características:
Data de comercialização: 1985 (homologado dezembro 1984)
Número de unidades produzidas: 20
Cores: Carroçaria branco nacrado
Carroçaria: Monocoque em aço com tejadilho em alumínio, reforçada com arco de segurança. Desenvolvida em túnel de vento.
Motor: Com 4 cilindros, 1 527 cm3 (WRC x 1.4 = 2.138 cm3) sobrealimentado por Turbo Garrett T31. Potência de 350 CV e 421 Nm de binário
Transmissão: Tração traseira. Caixa de 5 velocidades e diferencial autoblocante
Suspensão (dianteira): Triângulos duplos. Barras de torsão longitudinais ligadas ao triângulo inferior. Amortecedores telescópicos a gás. Barra estabilizadora
Suspensão (traseira): Triângulos duplos com molas. Amortecedores telescópicos a gás. Barra estabilizadora
Travões: 4 Discos ventilados (de 277/300 mm à frente e 260 mm atrás) com repartidor de travagem no interior
Rodas: Jantes monobloco “Speedline” em magnésio equipadas com pneus Michelin TB20
Estrutura de Segurança: Arco de segurança em alumínio com 16 pontos
Peso: 905 kg
Os heróis do volante
Para além de Jean Ragnotti, como piloto oficial, muitos outros nomes consagrados dos ralis, aproveitaram as potencialidades do Renault 5 Turbo (nas suas três versões) para aprumarem as suas qualidades de pilotos. Entre eles, destaque para nomes que são hoje incontornáveis na história do WRC e no panorama dos ralis internacionais como Carlos Sainz (11 vitórias), Bruno Saby (7 vitórias), Jean-Luc Thérier (5 vitórias), Didier Auriol (5 pódios) e Guy Fréquelin (que nunca venceu com o R5 Turbo, mas fez a sua estreia nos ralis).
Com menos palmarés, mas nem por isso sem darem o seu contributo para a elevação do Renault 5 Turbo, pilotos como Alain Serpaggi (o que mais quilómetros de desenvolvimento fez no R5 Turbo), François Chatriot, Joaquim Moutinho, Dany Snobeck ou “Leonidas” tiveram também, definitivamente, as suas carreiras marcadas pelo “irreverente”, e hoje nostálgico, modelo da Renault.
Saiba mais sobre a história do Renault 5 Turbo nos links abaixo:
Renault 5 Turbo: O mito nasceu há 40 anos
Renault 5 Turbo: Construído como um “puzzle” em três diferentes fábricas
Renault 5 Turbo: Nascido para os ralis!
Renault 5 Turbo também brilhou nas pistas!
Renault 5 Turbo: o “amarelinho da Renault” que fez sucesso em Portugal!
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Vivarium (Irlanda-Dinamarca-Bélgica, 2019)
(C12) Director: Lorcan Finnegan Guión: Garret Shanley Actores: Imogen Poots, Jesse Eisenberg.
Vivarium se estrena en medio del confinamiento mundial debido a la pandemia que vive la humanidad. Y que mejor momento para hacer junto con esta película una reflexión sobre los espacios cerrados, la cuarentena, y las rutinas a las que día a día nos hemos visto sometidos y acostumbrado. Una pareja joven, Gemma y Tom, encarnados respectivamente por una increíble Imogen Poots y Jesse Eisenber, están en busca de un hogar. Se da a entender mediante el origen de la película, residen en Irlanda. Un día, van a una pequeña inmobiliaria, un local chico, algo nada fuera de lo normal, con sus maquetas y anuncios enormes donde muestran a las familias viviendo felices en dichos hogares. Al fondo, allá en un escritorio se encuentra Martin (estupendamente personificado por Jonathan Aris, este actor sabe manejar perfectamente su rostro y estas facciones tan frías, parsimoniosas, manipuladoras tal vez) quien con un rostro robotizado, y con movimientos muy cuidados los recibe. Casi no los deja hablar, se acerca primero a Gemma. Sabe que ella es la que toma el rumbo de ambos. Después de una charla pequeña, los convence (casi a la fuerza) de ir a visitar el complejo residencial: Yonder. A la llegada, recorren varias calles en donde por ambos lados, hay casas exactamente iguales. “Los suburbios” dice Tom, no muy convencido de esto. La casa que les muestra Martín es la número 9. Comienzan un extraño recorrido por la casa. Ya amueblada, tiene colores sobrios, todo cuidosamente colocado en su respectivo lugar, una cocina ya con todo instalado, y hasta las recamaras amuebladas, incluida la de un niño. Cuando se disponen a ver el jardín trasero, Martín desaparece. Y ambos personajes, Gemma y Tom, quedarán atrapados en la casa y en los suburbios en una especie de pesadilla urbana. Como primer punto y creo que sería algo esencial destacar es el peculiar trabajo de imagen que crean Finnegan de la mano de su director de fotografía, el español Macgregor. Añaden los toques futuristas, casi al alcance de películas tan delicadas como “Robot & Frank” (Que también estudia un poco sobre la soledad y el distanciamiento) o incluso “Ex Machina”, esto resaltado en los vehículos de los personajes, compactos, coloridos, rápidos. O la tendencia en los acabados tan minimalistas pero a la vez, elegantes. Aunado a esto, el arte que se imprime en cada fotograma de la película, desde el poster promocional, podemos encontrar claras referencias a la obra pictórica de M. C. Escher, esta arquitectura laberintesca con la que se juega, invitándonos a perdernos inconcientemente entre este montón de casas. Magritte también reluce por acá. Véase la escena en donde se puede ver un cuadro que esta en la pared de la sala. La pintura es de una casa, casi idéntica a la de ellos, una referencia a la serie de pinturas que el pintor belga realizaría, una casa, solitaria, con algunos arboles altos y esparcidos por detrás, mientras que lo único que lo ilumina es una tenua farola. Y como última referencia me atrevería a decir que también podremos encontrar referencias al trabajo de Edward Hopper. Con estos ambientes solitarios y desolados, funcionan perfectamente cuando se trata de lugares abandonados o como en este caso, sitios donde no reside mucha vida humana. La principal lectura y propósito de este filme es el que da su propio director. Finnegan nos invita a relizar una introspección a profundidad sobre uno de los problemas que sufre la humanidad en pleno siglo XXI; la capacidad casi nula de adquirir hogares con una calidad humana rescatable. Las inmobiliarias, en conjunto con los gobiernos y esta displicencia sobre querer crear espacios reducidos, alejados en la nada, y en condiciones horrorosas, ha llevado a la creación y nacimientos de estos suburbios en donde ya no importa la calidad de vida, privacidad, el espacio recreativo, o la cercanía con la ciudad y la naturaleza. Imponen ciertos estándares de vivienda a alto costo adquisitivo, y que pocos pueden pagar. Esta situación recorre el mundo entero. No solo es Irlanda. Sino las grandes capitales como Alemania, China, Japón, y por supuesto, México. Por otro lado, que bien queda el uso de las canciónes “Rudy, a message to you” de Dandy Livingstone y de “007 Shanty Town” de Desmond Dekker, que en ambas canciones pueden dar una premisa bien de lo que va a suceder durante el largometraje. Una joya la escena en la que Gemma y Tom bailan a la mitad de la calle, mientras que lo único que los ilumina son las luces de su automóvil. Como bien dice el título de la película, sin dar spoilers, la segunda y gran parte del resto de la película va sobre esto. Sobre estar en una especie de vivero, en donde estos dos personajes tendrán que enfrentar diferente adversidades, como las rutinas, el constante pensar en que si alguien o algo irá por ellos, el choque de ideas, la maternidad, complicidad, entre otros dilemas. Para finalizar, Vivarium tiene varios propósitos, lecturas y tramas. Es una película de ciencia ficción, de suspenso, terror psicológico. Pero lo más notable es la forma en que llega, justo en este momento en el que la realidad esta superando a la ficción. En el que cada vez estamos más cerca de este mundo ficticio que poco a poco el humano se ha ido creando, y se ha ido acostumbrando. Vivarium es una gran película que no tenemos que perder de vista, ni mucho menos a su director ni al gran elenco que la conforma.
youtube
5.04.20
Crítica escrita por: Aldo Martínez T.
#VivariumMovie#Vivarium#Jesse Eisenberg#Imogen Poots#Movie#Cine#Cinema#Photography#Critics#Analitics#Aldo Martinez T#AlgunasNotasQueLeer
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Fall 2019 Design Curation Blogs
Bring URLs of your AET 315 blogs to class.
20400 Class 2:00 -3:30
Madeline A. https://mhashcroftdesign.tumblr.com/
Emily C. https://emilyfaithc.tumblr.com
Ariya C. https://icedangers242.wixsite.com/mysite
Paola F. https://paolaart3.tumblr.com/
Mary G. https://docs.google.com/document/d/1GEjLEyZiIcBGuZ1_bN0FZCaS0Jeu-knn49fWIpf_K7M/edit
Zachary G. https://zachaet315.tumblr.com/
Rose G. https://rosegracedesign.tumblr.com/
Nat H. https://nhadaway-aet315.tumblr.com/
Clara H. https://chamdesign.tumblr.com
Damien H. https://drhernandez1002.tumblr.com/
Avery H. https://averyherringaet315.tumblr.com/
Sarah H. https://sarahhuseth.tumblr.com/
Jordan J. jordan-jman-posts-blog.tumblr.com
Oscar Jr. L. https://oscaraet214.tumblr.com/post/187519850738/aet-blog2
Hugo L. https://hugolopezaet315blog.wordpress.com/
Britney L. https://bluongaet315.tumblr.com
Robert M. https://robertsanmart.tumblr.com/
Andrea N. https://andreanara329.tumblr.com/
David N. http://davey-newton.tumblr.com
Julia N. https://jknguyen.tumblr.com/
Terry N. https://llivvis.tumblr.com/
Zoe O. https://minuteofmindfulness.tumblr.com/
Laksha P. https://lakshaparajuli.tumblr.com/
Yuerong P. https://love-vera-me.tumblr.com/
Neil P. https://npotnis.tumblr.com/
Tristan P. https://tpunzelaet315.tumblr.com/
Jackson R. https://r1chj.tumblr.com
Natalie R. https://sites.google.com/utexas.edu/natalieaet315
Candido R. https://candido-aet.tumblr.com/
Jesus S. https://boredlatin.tumblr.com/
Nick S. https://somewhereovertherainbowworld.tumblr.com/
Reece S. https://rcs12000.tumblr.com/
Garret W. https://garretwiedposts.tumblr.com/
20404 Class 3:30 - 5:00
Brook B. broooklynsblog.tumblr.com
Maria C. mariacontrerasdesign.blogspot.com
Natalie G. nataliegarneraet315.tumblr.com
Arlyn G. alg315.tumblr.com
Alana H. lunaspeachtea.tumblr.com
Neal L. neallaubach.tumblr.com
Avery L. asl-aet315.tumblr.com
Grayson L. graysonL05.tumblr.com
Pranutha P. pranutha.tumblr.com
Peyton R. prodgersdesign.tumblr.com
Mariana R. themarianarios.tumblr.com
Shabnam S. shabnamSayahi.tumblr.com
Pat S. https://sites.google.com/thedetailperson.com/curated-design-blog/home
Valeria T. withinfall.tumblr.com
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