#edit: wow do i need to proofread my stuff better

[chisungie]

.

[fluffypotatey]

Operation Merthur: Part 1

“You want me to do what?”

Malifer sighed. He really didn't want to repeat this again. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Malifer straightens his posture. He isn’t paid enough for this.

“Sire, I’ve told you this ten times.”

“Yes, yes, I understand that. But...why?”

The poor knight looked so confused and caught off guard. Fair. They did corner him with this request. Maybe Malifer should’ve gone to Sir Gwaine first. That knight always seemed more inclined to give them favors. But this was a special request. One that is not in Sir Gwaine’s jurisdiction. 

“We only ask, sire, is for you to ask His Majesty about...his opinions on his manservant.” Malifer prays for the first time in his life for Sir Leon to not ask him to repeat this request again. “See, we are only asking for the benefit of our dear friend, Merlin. Just in case, you know?”

Sir Leon's eyebrows furrow at the mention of Merlin’s name, but he still looked uncomfortable. Malifer understood why. Sir Leon was always a man who went by the book; very meticulous and always noble to a point that it was a little infuriating. Although, in Malifer’s humble opinion, Sir Lancelot takes the cake on being infuriatingly noble, but Sir Leon is second just for him always feeling the need to be so...virtuous. Great, now Mailer felt like gagging.

Fortunately, Charlie (think of him as Malifer’s second in command) saves Malifer from making a fool of himself in front of the knight. He wraps his arm around Malifer as an act of nonchalance. It’s an act mostly because they need Sir Leon to agree to this request for their plan to get in motion, and there was only so much a couple of nosy servants could do to meddle in the affair of something as important as this. 

“We don’t want you to…snoop, per say. More of”— Charlie made some kind of gesture with his free hand— “investigate the affairs of His Majesty’s heart. We understand that you are a very honorable man held by your code and by no means are we asking you to do anything treasonous.”

“I understand that,” Sir Leon gruffs. It seems this topic has made him flustered. Malifer is seriously ready to call it quits and ask Gwaine. “It’s just...don’t you think this is an invasion of privacy? I feel like we should just leave them to figure out themselves.”

Malifer groans. This isn’t going anywhere. Why did he think he could convince the ever virtuous Sir Leon into joining this operation? New plan: ask Gwaine and pray it works.

“Listen, Sire.” Malifer makes sure to stretch the sire out a bit to let the knight know how annoyed he is becoming. Merlin is a bad influence when it comes to decorum and proper etiquette. “In case you have been blind for four years, let me inform you that there has been no progress between those two imbeciles!”

The knight flinches at Malifer, referring to his two friends with such a name, but Malifer never gives him the chance to defend them.

“I don't know about you, but I am getting sick and tired of seeing them give each other those disgusting dopey eyes. Not to mention the amount of hours I have to hear Merlin talk about the King’s arms, face, hair, and--God forbid his fucking eyes, everyday--and always giving that sickly, sweet smile! I can’t take it, Sir Leon! And if you won't help me, I’ll meddle in these affairs by myself!”

He finishes looking straight at the knight. His chest rising and falling as he recollects himself. Charlie seemed to have grabbed him during his rant to ensure Malifer didn’t get all up on the knight’s face, but the damage was done. 

Sir Leon was at a loss for words. His face said it all. The shock was only a dream that vanished and his face became blank. Leon pursed his lips and crossed his arms. He looks back to the duo.

“You said you and some servants have created a whole operation?”

Now we’re getting somewhere.

-

Operation Get These Dumbasses Together (Gwaine coined the name Merthur but Malifer thinks it’s a stupid name and quite likes its original title, thank you very much) was a work in progress. It was actually an accident on how this operation got started. It was...after the whole fiasco with Mercia and Merlin being poisoned, if Malifer wants to really start at the beginning. 

Anyway, Merica had come for a treaty signing thing (Malifer isn’t exactly one who kept up with things like this, gossip was more up his alley), and everything went to shit the moment Merlin accused Mercia of trying to poison prince Arthur. Of course a servant accusing another kingdom of such an act was laughable and caused some arguments until King Uther (may his soul be forever facing its crimes in the afterlife) ordered Merlin to drink from said poisoned drink because who gives a shit about a servant’s life? Not Uther that’s for sure.

Prince Arthur did though, and would have drank it in Merlin’s stead, but of course that wasn’t going to happen. To sum it up, the cup was poisoned. Merlin, in critical condition of dying, was not doing so hot anymore. Prince Arthur, who had only known Merlin for...was it really only a month?! Wow. Anyway, Prince Arthur left Camelot (against his own father’s wishes) to find some flower to save Merlin. 

This, my friends, was the beginning of Malifer and Charlie’s delve into meddling in affairs they probably should have stayed out of.

It started out as a joke. Honestly, Charlie really was joking:

“Apparently, Prince Arthur left Camelot to save his servant.”

“Did he?” asked Malifer who was stuck cleaning the kitchens and missed all the drama much to his discontent.

“Yeah, it was really dramatic. Seems that the only way for Merlin to survive is to find this...flower of some sort? But the King was against the prince going to fetch it since, well,” Charlie’s face darkened as he remembered hearing the King’s exact words on how he felt about the servant’s fate. Such was the life of servants under Uther’s reign. Don’t be seen, don’t be heard, and never expect royalty to give a rat’s ass about you. Malifer stops his cleaning to face Charlie and his face falls grim in understanding. He reaches to squeeze Charlie’s shoulder. 

“Poor Merlin,” Malifer whispers, “he was quite a firecracker wasn’t he?”

Charlie snorts. He relaxes his shoulders then. 

“But the prince still left?”

Charlie smirks. “Yeah, went against his old man just to save his servant’s life.” A pause. “It must be love.”

Malifer chuckles at that. As if. It still made him smile. The prince and his manservant. Huh. The prince in love with his manservant.

The Prince...in love?

“HOLY SHIT!”

And that friends, is how Malifer dragged Charlie along to spy on the couple at whatever chance they could. Soon, Charlie’s stablehand friend, David joined, adding his own theories. Clara came next, then Greg, then Sean, then Maddox, then Mary, then...every single servant was in on this once small operation. A betting pool was made a month later. 

“I’m telling you! Gwen and Merlin are very close, so maybe—”

“Don’t even suggest that!”

“He did accuse himself of sorcery to save her life that one time,” someone murmured.

Silence.

“Goddamnit, Stephen!”

“What? It’s true! Prince Arthur even said so!”

“Oh please, can we really trust the prince for something like this? He could have assumed wrong and gotten jealous for no reason!”

“Merlin is very adamant on them being friends.”

“See! False alarm everyone.”

“But...don’t some people just say that because they’re in denial?”

Groans echo around the kitchen, their designated place to discuss and plan. A new pairing is added to the chalkboard under Arthur x Morgana (this of course would be later erased after the Lady is revealed to be Prince Arthur’s half sister). Grumbling ensues and later Merlin x Morgana is added as well as Merlin x Lancelot. That last one had a bit more of an uproar but was still added since it was mentioned (fucking Stephen) that Merlin forged Lancelot’s nobility and Arthur was totally jealous of Merlin’s attention not on him (bless you Mary).

When the servants found out about Gwaine, well…

“I asked Merlin about his last adventure with the prince and it seems he was very soft spoken about this stranger named Gwaine,” Melody told Malifer. 

“Really? Soft spoken how?”

“From what I heard, he helped them during a brawl in the tavern—” of course he did— “and got injured. Apparently, he’s staying in Gauis’s care which means he is staying with Merlin”

Melody looked pleased with her deduction. Malifer was not. This could put a damper on the operation’s plans, so Malifer went to find him on the excuse of curiosity.

When Malifer did meet Gwaine, he found him very charming. Gwaine was courteous, fun, and incredibly likable. Malifer felt a tinge of guilt over his quick dislike of such a charming man. He had half a mind to get Gwaine to join the operation.

Unfortunately, Gwaine’s stay didn’t last long, but it was fun while it lasted. In honor of such a charming man, the operation agreed to keep the pairing between Gwaine and Merlin since, admittedly, they would be a good pair for one another.

Skipping a couple more years, (after Morgana’s fall, Uther’s death, and other events) we find ourselves back to the present with Arthur as king, the Knights of the Round Table established, and there is still no progress on those two dunderheads.

However, that doesn’t stop those two from being so disgustingly cute. Malifer sometimes catches a glimpse of King Arthur’s longing looks, touches that stay longer than Charlie would consider “friendly,” and that fucking dopey smile. The servants know very well that Merlin is head over heels. Malifer is actually surprised that they have kept this operation secret from Merlin for so long. 

It’s actually Gwen that Malifer has to thank for that. She’s been in this operation for three years and knows front and center how far gone her poor friend is. It’s also Gwen who gives Malifer the idea of asking Sir Leon for help in these trying times.

-

“So, how did it go?” Malifer asks after Leon enters their agreed meeting spot to share information. He won’t ever admit it to Leon’s face, but having Leon agree to help Operation Merthur (fucking Gwaine) was a Godsend. At this point, Malifer was grasping at the seams because he, as well as every other inhabitant in this kingdom, knew Merlin’s feelings for KIng Arthur and he knew the feelings were reciprocated. Unfortunately, intuition isn’t enough to convince said manservant to confess his feelings (not to mention Malifer is in no way able to ask that of the king being as Malifer has never conversed with him).

“The general meeting we had went well,” Malifer rolled his eyes, “but the minute I asked about him courting anyone, he got agitated.”

Interesting. 

“This could mean one of many things you know.”

Leon then rolls his eyes at Malifer. Well then, sorry for stating the obvious. “I’m well aware of that, so I pressed on.”

“And?” Malifer raises his brow. What is with knights and theatrics?

“And, well,” Leon coughed his cheeks looking a bit more pink than usual. “And well, he’s not courting anyone, but then he started venting about the...silliness of Kings being expected to court someone so soon.” Malifer has a sneaking suspicion that the king didn't say silly, but he nodded along. The king ranting is good. He could let anything slip that he would usually keep well hidden, and this is Sir Leon, King Arthur’s most trusted knight and childhood friend. “He then goes on to say how he has too much on his plate,” Understandable, “and technically he’s not really interested because…”

Malifer frowns at the sudden pause and looks up to Sir Leon (why does he have to be so tall?). His mouth is shaped in a circle. Realization flashes in his eyes. Malifer huffs and crosses his arms.

“Because…?” He taps his foot while he waits for Leon to come back from wherever his mind went. Malifer stares while he waits (he has nothing better to do, really). Sir Leon isn’t wearing his armor today which is a little odd to see since that’s all Malifer has ever seen him in, but it's not...terrible. To be honest, the armor hid a lot of the muscles Sir Leon appears to have. His arms are also crossed so it’s easier to see the muscles flexed there and-- okay! Time to get back on track and not think any more about Leon’s arms, thighs, chest, neck….fuck.

Malifer clears his throat and that seems to get Leon’s attention again. He blinks at Malifer who’s now a little more than flustered to be held under the knight’s gaze. Maifer shuffles his feet and averts his eyes anywhere but at Leon.

“Well?”

Leon coughs and straightens up. “Right. Well, he said he wasn’t interested in courting any lady’s because, well, he stopped himself there. But I think it's probably because he was going to say that it’s because he’s already interested in someone.”

Malifer’s eyes widen and he smiles. Finally! 

“And he’s not courting them?”

“No, it seems not.”

“Hm,” Malifer smirks, “I wonder why is that?”  

Leon smiles. It softens his features. It makes him look-- Malifer shakes his head. That’s not the important thing here. The important thing is that Arthur is interested in someone, but won’t court them.

“Maybe it’s because they aren't technically noble?” He ponders mockingly.

Leon nods but his smile stays firm on his face since he is in on the game. “And this person may not exactly be a lady.”

“But it is very close to him for him to be that flustered.”

They grin at each other, proud they both reached the same conclusion.

“Merlin?” Leon’s eyes twinkle with mischief that Malifer has never seen on the knight before.

“Oh most definitely.”

-

That evening, Malifer wasn’t stuck in the kitchen (Charlie was and had half a mind to murder Malifer for throwing him under the bus to escape the cook’s wrath) and was enjoying himself. He interacted with the other servants, chatted with Gwaine and Percival on the importance of sleeves (“I’m telling you, Perce. It wouldn’t hurt, and someone might try to attack them since there’s no protection.” A huff. “I would get to them first.” “Perce, please.”), and watched the king and his servant float around each other. 

Seriously, it was like they were in their own world or something. 

Merlin went to pour some water for Leon, who was next to King Arthur, but then Merlin must have said something to cause the king to tug on Merlin’s scarf pulling him eye to eye with himself. They gazed at each other for a while, forgetting that Leon was even there. Malifer saw his shoulders slump as he grabbed the pitcher to pour his own cup (it was not water). Malifer shakes his head in sympathy for the poor knight.

When the king finally let Merlin go, Malifer caught Leon’s eye and the knight only shrugged in response to Malifer’s raised eyebrow. The king seemed to catch their interaction and frowned looking between the two. He leaned in to say something that Malifer wouldn’t be able to hear. Whatever it was, it caused Sir Leon to flush profusely and hide his face in his cup while the king laughed. Malifer tilted his head in confusion then shrugged. It’s probably none of his business.

-

The next day saw Malifer's second plan go into motion: breaking Merlin. Many have tried to get him to admit his feelings, but all have failed. However, this can only work with the help of Lady Guinevere and Gaius, the royal physician. 

Malifer doesn’t know the royal physician personally, but he does know Gwen thanks to her lovely contribution to the Operation. With Gwen's help, they should be able to convince Gaius to help them in reaching their goal.

On the way to the physician’s chambers Gwen is skipping and humming in excitement while Malifer is shaking with nerves. It shouldn’t be that hard. It's Gaius, and Gwen assured Malifer that Gaius would definitely be all for this plan. While his mind is running through different scenarios on how this will pan out, he doesn’t notice someone else coming down the hallway and walks straight into metal. Fucking knights.

“Are you alright? Malifer?”

Malifer’s nose twitches as he looks up to who’s talking. Of course. Sir Leon in all his armor glory. He looks down at Malifer (seriously, Malifer isn’t that short!) his face looking concerned. Malifer’s nose twitches (winces really) again and he goes to touch it. 

“I’m fine,” he says, then winces after touching his nose. Leon frowns.

“I beg to differ.”

“Well, it sucks to suck. I’m fine, really.”

Leon still looks unconvinced but sighs as if resigned. Malifer reasons it must be because he knows other people who do the same thing.

“If you say so.”

Malifer’s lips purse. The nerve. He said he was fine. Leon doesn’t have to be concerned. He sniffs indignantly then regrets it.

“Well, I ran into you anyway, so...I’ll be careful next time.”

Leon chuckles. “I hope so.” His gaze stays fixed on Malifer and now he feels caught. Thankfully, Gwen comes to the rescue (bless her, really).

“We're sorry to have bumped into you. Anyway, we were on our way to see Gaius and it’s best to get to him before his work begins.” She gently nudges Malifer to follow her up to Gaius’s chambers. Malifer looks back to see Leon wave with a soft smile on his face. Malifer can feel his lips widen as he waves back.

“At least we now have an excuse to see him urgently,” Gwen says, but her eyes hold mischief in them. Malifer frowns. He doesn’t like where this is going.

“So.” Malifer can feel the floor escape from his feet as she turns to face him. He looks away. “You’re blushing.”

His head snaps back to her. “I am not!”

“Mhm, sure. So….” Malifer groans, already knowing where Gwen is going. “You and Sir Leon seem to be friendly.”

Malifer huffs and crosses his arms (he seems to be doing that alot). “Of course we are! He’s in on the plan. Just, he’s just here to help us get Arthur’s side just like how we’re using Gaius for Merlin! I mean, he’s not a bad guy. Isn’t snobby like some nobles and knights I know. I mean, he's no Gwaine but you know what I mean.”

“Oh? Gwaine?”

Malifer thinks his face just exploded. That’s not what he meant, and she knows that.

“I-I...I meant he’s not as down to earth as Gwaine. Gwaine’s charming, but he’s not my type.”

“And your type is…?”

Was it really taking this long to get to Gaius’s chambers? Gwen said they were close some minutes ago. He looks around avoiding Gwen and his obvious blush. He finds a sign to the chambers not long after and gives out a sigh of relief.

“Come on, the physician’s chamber is this way. I would like to get my nose treated, thank you very much.”

Gwen sighs and follows him up the stairs. Hoping that Gaius will help them in their plan.

-

“Of course I will!” Gaius exclaims.

Well, that was easy.

Gwen smiles and thanks Gaius while he continues to treat Malifer’s nose. He winces a couple of times but other than that he can feel his nose starting to recover.

“I’ve been living with that boy long enough to get tired of his obvious pining and the King-” Gaius rolls his eyes, “-I’ve been taking care of him since he was a little boy. Both of them are quite the pair aren’t they?”

Gwen and Malifer nod in agreement. Nobody is blind when it comes to seeing King Arthur and Merlin’s affections for one another. Now with Gaius’s help, they could find a way to speed up the torturous pining that this kingdom has been suffering from.

“So, what’s the plan?”

Malifer begins to explain his and other’s findings, as well as what Leon has been telling him. Gaius nods along and begins to share his own ideas. Gaius seems against anything that would be surrounded following Merlin, but concedes to confronting Merlin on confessing. Gwen adds that Arthur could be confronted on the fact of why he isn’t inclined to court anyone. 

It’s while they are in their hushed conversation that a tired Merlin enters the chambers. Gaius notices first and opens his mouth to greet him, but something weird happens. Malifer, who could have sworn that his eyes were deceiving him, watched as Merlin's eyes glowed gold and the chair near the shelf covered in potions moved closer to Merlin. Once it’s behind him, Merlin collapses on top of it. Malifer’s jaw drops.

“Merlin!” Gaius hisses. That seems to wake up the servant (no, sorcerer). He dazedly looks up at Gaius and smiles, raising his hand up to wave but freezes. It seems he notices Gwen and Malifer now. His smile falls.

“Well,” Malifer says, eyes still wide, “this complicates things.”

part 2

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Azul Ashengrotto Union Birthday Personal Story: Part 1

"Happy Birthday"

Part 1 (Part 2) (Part 3)

[Octavinelle Dorm – Birthday Party Venue]

Azul: It's about time for the time-honored birthday interview to begin… However, it seems the presenter hasn't arrived yet.

Azul: Who possibly could have been chosen by the "Magical Birthday Dice"?

Azul: [sigh] …I do hope this will be worthwhile.

???: Excuuuuse me!

Ace: Azul-senpai, Happy Birthday! Your presenter is yours truly, Ace Trappola.

Azul: Ah, so you were the one chosen, I see. Thank you for your felicitations.

Ace: Man, I got so anxious when I heard I was gonna be your presenter. Thought it'd be suuuper hard to pick a present for you.

Azul: There was no need to fret so much. I would be perfectly happy simply receiving your well wishes.

Ace: Hahaha… Kinda feels like there's something hidden behind that smile, it's freakin' me out a little…

Ace: Anyway, putting that aside… I put a ton of thought into this present. Please accept this from me!

Azul: Why, thank you. Then, allow me to unbox it right away.

Azul: This is… a pillow? The silk cover is smooth to the touch. This elegant luster gives off such a high-quality feel.

Azul: The stuffing inside… has just the right level of softness to leave a palm imprint. This is urethane memory form, yes?

Ace: You really know your stuff, Azul-senpai. Can't believe you'd be able to tell that much just by touching it. Actually, I'm not that surprised at all, but still.

Azul: I've done research in this area before, back when I was selecting cushions for the chairs in the lounge.

Azul: If I recall, this type of material has the distinctive characteristic to conform to one's body. It may help relieve the stress on my neck and shoulders.

Ace: I think that was their slogan, yeah, but… wait, do you already use this kind of pillow?

Azul: Not at all. I don't have any particular attachments to a specific kind of pillow, so I simply use one that was recommended to me at the store.

Azul: To begin with, I had no need for a pillow in the Coral Sea, so I never realized pillows were that important for sleep.

Ace: Eh… Does that mean you never used a pillow until you came here? How did you sleep without one!?

Azul: Most often we use large shells, or the hollows of a conch shell as our beds.

Azul: It's impractical to use fluffy mattresses or pillows at the bottom of the ocean.

Azul: The first time I ever laid on a bed, I was startled by the sensation of my body sinking deeply into it. It took me quite some time to get used to it.

Ace: Wow… I guess there's more of a difference between life on land and the sea than I thought. I feel like if I slept on a hard shell, I'd be hurtin' all over the next morning.

Ace: But, based on what you said, I guess it wasn't a terrible present to give you.

Ace: I just thought that you're always so busy, Azul-senpai, it might be nice to have something to help with getting rid of any tiredness. Please sleep well using this pillow!

Azul: I see. How thoughtful of you to have chosen something to help refresh my fatigue.

Ace: At first, I thought maybe some kind of aromatherapy, or food or something could help to relax you too…

Ace: But everyone has different scents they like, and I felt like you would have a discerning palate, so I scrapped those ideas.

Azul: It seems you've got a better understanding of my tastes than I thought.

Azul: I've always been cautious of what I consume. I thank you for your kind consideration.

Azul: I'll put this pillow you chose for me to good use straight away, starting tonight.

Part 1 (Part 2) (Part 3)

Requested by @girl-in-the-tower. Japanese proofreading edits done by Dolce. English proofreading edits done by Starly.

[yourfavoriteagent]

Teacher Crush Pt 3

Chapter three is here! It gets a little steamyyyyyy

Professor!Spencer x Assistant!Reader

CW: NONE

Twenty-fucking-two. How could he have these feelings for a twenty-two-year-old? Spencer thought to himself as she enjoyed her latte and he took a sip from his excessively sweet coffee.

“So, Dr. Reid-“ She began.

“Please, call me Spencer, there’s no need for the whole Doctor thing.” He laughed and let her continue.

“Alright, Spencer,” She said tentatively, she was nervous around him, he could tell by how she avoided eye contact and played with the rings on her fingers. “So you’ve been with the BAU for 15 years, you must have seen a lot in that time, huh?”

“You have no idea, we have been on six cases a month at some points, the bad guys never really stop.” He said, her eyes were beautiful, she only looked him in the eye occasionally but when she did it was magic. She had the kind of eyes you could fall into if you weren’t careful enough, you could swim in and they would restore your youth, and Spencer was trying very hard not to fall.

“So, with the many cases, what’s the craziest thing you’ve seen?” She said, “If you don’t mind my asking,”

“Of course not,” This was a pretty common question he got, people were morbidly curious, but she didn’t seem like the morbid type at all. She looked at him with a curiosity that he couldn’t explain. “Let’s see, we’ve seen some pretty rough cases with kidnappings and child predators.” He saw her wince at the thought, okay, no children. “But the ones that always get me are the murders, you have no idea how many ways there are to kill someone.” He chuckled, trying to make the subject lighter.

“Wow, does it not get to you? I mean, I like hearing about this stuff, true crime documentaries and all that, but seeing it up close and personal, that must take a toll on you.” She said, she sounded a bit sad, he hoped he hadn’t upset her.

“It was hard at first but after a while, you learn to detach yourself from it all, so the stuff you see can’t affect you personally. It’s a hard step to take but it’s the only way to get through and save the people you need to save.” He tried to give her a reassuring smile, so she knew it wasn’t all bad. The conversation switched to a lighter topic when their food came, they discussed the upcoming classes, her goals at the school, why she had chosen his course to intern for. The time passed by quickly, it made him forget all the things that worried him, he allowed himself to indulge in the feelings for her, just for a moment. They finished their food quickly but he didn’t want to leave, he didn’t want to be back in that office where he was reminded of his responsibilities and guilt of being so infatuated with her. But his fantasy where he could have her had to end at some point, he had another class to teach in less than 3 hours and still needed to prep his lesson plan, so he paid the bill and grabbed his coat.

“You didn’t have to pay, let me pay you back!” She said and reached for her purse.

“Don’t even think about it,” He smiled at her, “It’s my treat.”

“Oh, well, thank you very much Dr. Re- Spencer.” She caught herself midway through her sentence. Her flustered face made a part of him light up, he felt relaxed by her smile, he felt something he couldn’t describe with her, something magical. They reached his car and began the short drive back to campus, the two of them talking the whole way there.

Y/N’s POV

The rest of the week went by smoothly, the two of them falling into a routine, he would give you a stack of papers to either proofread or edit in the morning, after his class you two got lunch, takeout sometimes you sat down and talked, then by 7pm you were saying your goodbyes. That was your least favorite part, you hated to say it but over the past week you had seriously begun to develop feelings for Spencer, to you he didn’t feel like a mentor or a professor, he felt like a friend, maybe more.

It was Friday night, you guys were staying late to prepare the test for Monday. He ordered Chinese food to be delivered to the office so they could at least have dinner while staying late.

“This question doesn’t make sense,” She said, breaking the concentrative silence between them.

“What do you mean?” He says and reaches out his hand to take the paper from you, your hands touch briefly and you feel a fire ignite inside you, you couldn’t tell if he felt the same way. Of course, he didn’t, why would he? He’s a professor and an FBI profiler, he has much better things to do with his time than think about you. You reacted your hand quickly, too quickly.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend-“ He started.

But you interrupted “No no no! It’s not like that, I’m sorry.” You said and tried hiding your face behind your hair.

“Hey, what’s up?” He asked, he liked genuinely concerned, how could you explain to him that you had a massive crush on him and touching him had made your stomach fill with butterflies?

“It’s nothing, it’s stupid.” You say, looking up at him, there was something in his eyes, at that moment you knew you could tell him anything. He was one of the most understanding and gentle people you’d ever met.”It’s just, I just- I like you and I’m sorry that's so unprofessional and if you want to fire me please do I understand.” You say and look right back down at your lap. You didn’t say that, right? You’ve somehow been drugged and lost your goddamn mind, right?

Spencer sat in stunned silence for a moment then got out of his chair. Oh god, at least you would open the door for you on your way out. You felt sick to your stomach. But instead of heading to the door, he came to the side of your chair. He knelt to the ground next to you. You slowly turn to look at him and he brushes the hair out of your face. You stare into each other’s eyes for a moment, or maybe a millennium, you couldn’t tell anymore. Then, his lips ever so slowly came up to meet yours. It was gentle, soft like he was scared if he pushed too hard he’d shatter you like glass. You kissed him back, letting his scent engulf you, surrendering yourself to every wonderful thought you had about him. Your hand reaches for his hair and you deepen the kiss, you suppose that was his cue because he then pushed the chair out from under you and grabbed you in his arms, never breaking the kiss. Your head was spinning and your heart was fluttering. He lifted you and set you down so you were sitting on the desk, his hand explored your hair, as your tongues clashed together, your kiss had gone from gentle to passionate and aggressive like he’s been waiting for this moment his whole life. He held you like he never wanted to let you go, you held on to him the same. You could feel his soft moans on your lips, his teeth ever so gently biting them.

You separated for air for just a moment, he looked into your eyes and traced the curves of your jaw with his finger, “Is this okay?” He asks in a whisper.

“This is perfect.” You kiss him with a smile on your face, just then there is a knock on the door.

“Hello?” Someone from the other side calls.

You both freeze in place. Spencer clears his throat and says, “Yes?”

“I have a delivery. For, uh, Reid?”

Spencer sighed, you couldn’t tell if it was from relief or annoyance but you quickly flatten down your hair and sit back in your chair, Spencer opens to door and hands the man a fifty-dollar bill, grabs the bag, ad shuts the door once again.

He sets the bag down on the desk and asks, “Are you okay?”

You didn’t know how to tell him how indescribably happy you were in that moment.

[kybabi]

i really don’t understand how u have followers or notes when most of your writing is very poorly constructed and almost formulaic like you have no understanding of complex emotion and it seems like u just regurgitate stuff you read in YA books or watched in cheesy bad romance movies into all of your writing. i just read your angst with tsukki mattsun and sakusa and literally all of them were the same down to the whole “let me go” line and just wow. u are at the top of most haikyuu fanfic searches on tumblr and it’s just appalling to me that you’re able to get away with peddling poor quality writing when actual good writers get 100 notes or less

hey anon !!

i understand where you’re coming from.

the truth is, my writing is not written out to be high quality, well-formatted, and perfectly structured.

i do not write for the sole purpose of the actual writing itself but as more of a comfort to me :) it’s a self-indulgent hobby, one that i never would have thought i’d be partaking in, but one that i’ve grown to love! i write these pieces alone in my room and on my phone from 1-3 am every two nights before sleepily posting them without proofreading, so for me it’s not really about the quality but more about how i’m feeling!

that being said, my pieces are not meant to be realistic. i’m not that type of writer! in fact, i really am nothing like the reader that i write for. i am stubborn, hotheaded, egotistical, and prideful, whereas i write for a submissive, apologetic reader. but this is the easiest way for me to portray the characters in a way that makes me feel something, so that’s a little bit on why i write in such a “cheesy” and “regurgitated” fashion.

anon, i also understand your frustration in regards to other writers. please understand that i think about this all the time. i am fully aware that my writing is subpar and often repetitive, and i’m constantly insecure about it. i don’t need you to tell me of this fact; i already know it! and there are so many good writers out there who aren’t getting any recognition, and it makes me really sad that people aren’t getting to see them. when i used to edit videos, my pieces barely got any recognition at all, and it was disheartening, so i get it. i assume you are one of those creators, and usually i would ask you to send me a message off anon so we could be mutuals and i could take a look at some of your pieces, but it would seem that you have chosen violence instead😩🤚

but please don’t lash out at me, anon! i cannot control who sees what on tumblr and i sincerely do not understand what you want me to do. you’ve inspired me to take a look back at my writing and i strive to be better, but that’s all i can do at the moment. i will continue to write, not because i like the actual putting down of words, but just because it’s so comforting to me and i adore all of my lovely followers.

so to top it all off, thank you anon! today i’m going to get up and eat some bomb ass food and work out and go to the japanese store to get some things for dinner and then i’m going to get in bed and start writing for tonight’s post. i’m sorry if that offends you, but if it does, that kind of sounds like a you problem !! too bad :(

best to you,

ky! <3

[entamesubs]

Yu-Gi-Oh! SEVENS Blu-Ray: Episode 4

Google Drive ONLY (for now)

Support us on ko-fi

Blu-Ray episodes will come out one at a time every Friday, until I’m done with the full first season (1-13).

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Please use either MPV or MPC-HC to view the Blu-Ray episodes. I do NOT recommend using VLC.

Please check the post for episodes 1&2 to see why.

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!! This is NOT a final release !!

If there are any corrections you wish to make, please put them through the ask box. This includes any typos, grammar weirdness, or if you have a better way to word a sentence. Once it goes up on Nyaa, the subs will be LOCKED and can no longer be edited. I will consider it the final and best version I can put out.

If you see any mistake at all, please do not hesitate to send me an ask about it.

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Extended Translation Notes

Gakuto’s characterization

RoadRush:

“I am supposed to be stopping their chaos [...] How could I do such a thing?!”

Original Japanese: 「遊我くんたちの暴走を止めるべき立場にありながら [...] 私としたことが…」

The original RR subs make it seem like Gakuto is appalled at the fact that he’s been going along with the crew, but in reality the original Japanese points to Gakuto being appalled at his lack of responsibility (as in Gakuto himself is frustrated that he, himself, has not done anything despite the fact that he should).

The bolded Japanese from above is what I’m highlighting as the key to understanding him here.

立場にあり = someone in (my) position 私としたこと = someone like me

The translation I decided to use instead, and which I felt conveyed his inner turmoil better, was “I’m someone who should be stopping them, and yet... [...] I, of all people...!”

Gakuto is very concerned with his position and duties, which is the main focus for this episode. He is a character who is hyper-aware of his place and what kind of person he should be (that is, someone who strictly follows the rules and enforces them). The conflict he feels here is because of that hyper-awareness, not (primarily) because of the fact that he’s been “having fun” or “swept away” by Yuuga’s antics, it’s that someone like him shouldn’t be “swept away” in the first place.

I hope this makes sense and that this translation gets across his characterization a lot better.

Further Gakuto characterization

RoadRush:

“I have to draw the line somewhere!”

Original Japanese: 「きちんとけじめをつけなければ｡」

This is actually a translation I liked a lot, with “draw the line” being something very clear and also easily got across his newfound determination. It’s the reason I decided to keep the “draw the line” phrase in my final translation.

However, there is one important part of his sentence: けじめ, which I bolded above. It means “distinction”.

My final translation was “I must be decisive and draw the line somewhere!”

Gakuto uses the word “decide” and “decisive” a lot. You’ll see it the most in his summoning chants, where he keeps “deciding” not to stop, or “deciding” to follow a road, or “deciding” to find something new, or that he alone must “decide” his resolve, etc. At this point, being “decisive” is a huge part of his character and who he is as a person. The main theme of Sougetsu Gakuto is being able to lead, to decide, and, as we see in episodes 24, 33, 50, and 57, to be someone worthy of the Sougetsu name and inheritance by making these “decisions” and having the power to do so.

For this reason, I decided (haha) to put in his keyword here and tie this line further to his characterization in future episodes.

“Yametekudastop”

“Does Gakuto actually say this?” No, but he makes a pun just as bad as this one. This is a great pun to convey just how weird his “Yameruler” pun in Japanese is as well.

Thanks English!

トイレには神様がいますからね “Since a kami is always in the restroom, you should...”

This is a fragment of the full sentence, though its implied that Gakuto is trying to say “[I cleaned the restroom with care,] because a kami is in there”. To make this sound more natural in English, my final translation was the sentence you see above in bold, which adds a “you should” for context.

This sentence may seem strange to a lot of people, even more so if you don’t know what exactly a “kami” is. I wanted to elaborate on that in this translation note, and also the reason why I left “kami” untouched.

A “kami” does not uniformly mean a “god” or “deity”. In some contexts, yes, someone can be referring to such a being. In others, a kami can also be seen as a “spirit”, not necessarily of divine origins, who exists in a myriad of spaces for a myriad of reasons.

The “kami” Gakuto says exists in the restroom is not a god in the way English speakers would see it, but a spirit that has found a home there. However, I felt that the word “spirit” did not really encompass the importance of the word kami and why Gakuto was so careful with it, while the words “god” or “deity” placed too much importance on it.

For further context, I’d honestly just recommend the kami wikipedia article, which goes a lot more into detail than I can here. For heavier reading, and if you’re interested in this sort of stuff, I recommend the books Shinto - A Book of Prayers and The Essence of Shinto: Japan's Spiritual Heart.

黒子 (くろこ) Kuroko / “stagehands”

Wow, Kuroko Tetsuya himself from the acclaimed basketball manga and anime, Kuroko no Basuke! Okay I’m joking.

A “kuroko” in Japanese means a “stagehand”, though they have very a specific job in Japanese theatre that is different compared to what you might know of stagehands in Western theatre.

The job of a “kuroko” is to be invisible, which of course is not a literal thing. This simply means they help move things along on the stage, appearing center at times, while still not being perceived by the audience. This is where the “kuro” part of “kuroko” comes from—traditionally, they wear black clothes and cover their faces with a black sheet on stage, so that when they appear, the audience will not focus on them and instead blend them in with the background.

A kuroko does such things like moving scenery and props as a normal stagehand, however they may also play non-human parts in plays sometimes, being something like an animal or spirit when needed (usually with the help of a minor prop, not with a costume). They are the “invisible stagehands”.

Gakuto’s entire aesthetic themeing with Ranze and Rinnosuke is basically kabuki, a form of Japanese theatre that places more emphasis on aesthetics than on story.

A popular genre of kabuki is known as jidaimono, or historical plays, which dramatize a major historic event (like a war), which is how Gakuto’s various “Rulers” tie into this theme. Of note, Yameruler’s defense position animation is very much like how one in kabuki would try to “disappear” off stage (by holding a fan in front of his face), Kimeruler has elements of kabuki makeup in his design (though heavily watered down), and Semeruler’s summoning animation is a very common kabuki pose for combat.

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For people interested in the raw BDMV vs encoded final video comparisons, click here. (Click the image in the center to swap between “raw BD” and “encoded”).

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Credits

Translation, timing: entame Proofreading: angelthinktank (Yona) Encoding: PelvisBass

[andtheyweredeskmates]

In which Chat Noir is an idiot and Marinette is a really “good friend”

Oh my god I didn’t proofread this, its 6 am and I haven’t slept yet don’t judge me

Edit: I made a comic companion piece to this

It honestly started with Chat trying to be nice. He was on his way back home after an akuma attack when he saw Marinette walking and shivering in the cold.

“Cold, little lady?” Marinette gave him a disapproving look.

“NO,” she chattered. Chat chuckled and gestured to his stick.

“Wanna ride?” Marinette raised an eyebrow.

“C’mon, I’m not gonna bite, just hop on my back.” Marinette hesitated, but after a long moment, she wrapped her arms around his neck and hopped on his back .

Chat leapt from building to building, admittedly showing off a little bit. Whe he glanced back he was happy to see Marinette looking longingly at the world as it passed by.

“Liking the view?” Marinette grinned at him.

“I’ve never really gotten the chance to admire everything. I’ve passed these streets a million times but I’ve never taken to time to see how beautiful Paris really is.” Chat gaped at Marinette for a moment before abruptly turning his head back to the path ahead.

“Yeah its really something,” he said softly. He tried to think about all the times he’s hung out with Marinette at school. He’d never seen her as calm and comfortable as she was now. She had always seemed awkward and panicked. Chat had to admit that he liked seeing this side of her. When they finally made it to the balcony of Marinette’s house Chat shot her a wink.

“Hope you enjoyed the ride.” Marinette rolled her eyed.

“Thanks kitty, I’ll see you around.”

“Oh yeah?”

And just like that Marinette was as flustered as she always was.

“Um yeah, ya know, like on TV while you’re out saving the world… and stuff.” Chat laughed.

“Right, well I bid you adieu mademoiselle.” He gave her a little salute before making his way back to his own home. All he could think about was that face she made as they’d leapt around the rooftops of Paris. He hoped he’d see it again.

The next time Adrien saw Marinette as Chat, he was furious. He was tired of being cooped up at home and tired of being treated like a child. So he left. He was wandering Paris aimlessly when he saw her on the balcony. Marinette was gazing at the stars in what looked like her pajamas and it was the very same gaze she’d had when Chat had carried her across Paris. He stopped for a moment to admire her. She looked so content. Chat wanted to feel like that. More than anything. He blushed a little when Marinette noticed him giving him a little wave and a chuckle. Without even thinking he made his way to her balcony and settled atop the railing.

“Are you stalking me now kitty?”

Chat ran a clawed hand threw his hair and over his ears, throwing his head back dramatically.

“I knew you wanted to see me again.” Marinette rolled her eyes.

“Oh yes, my hero,” she said sarcastically. Chat grinned.

“Stargazing?”

Marinette smiled softly.

“I like looking at the stars sometimes. Gives me a little perspective. I feel like sometimes I get too caught up in my own little world.”

AS Chat looked up at the sky, he said, “Yeah I know what you mean.”

“What are you doing out here? Out on patrol?”

Chat scratched his head and looked back down apologetically.

“Not exactly, I guess I needed to get out of my own little world too.”

“Well your welcome to sit out here with me if you want, just try not to ruin the moment with stupid puns.” Chat grinned.

“Your wish is my command princess.”

There was a slight blush that appeared on Marinette’s face when he said that but Chat didn’t notice. He’d already turned his head back to the sky. They sat like that in silence for hours. Marinette slowly transitioned from standing, to sitting, to laying on her stomach until eventually she fell asleep. Chat chuckled a little as he picked her up and brought her back down into her room, placing her gently on her bed. His eyes lingered on her face for a few moments before Chat padded out of the room and made his way back home. And all he thought about the rest of the night was the face Marinette made when she was sleeping.

+

It became a regular occurrence for Chat to stop by Marinette’s house when he went out to blow off steam. She always found a way to make him feel better. He had to remind himself at school that Adrien didn’t have the same relationship with Marinette that Chat did and it bothered him. He hated that Marinette seemed so uncomfortable around him when she was able to speak so effortlessly with Chat. He tried to confront her about it subtly but he ended up more confused.

“… and that’s when Alya spilled her lemonade all over me and when I got up to clean it all up I ran right into this really popular guy from my class and I looked like an idiot and it was so embarrassing so I...” Marinette was rambling but of course Chat knew exactly what she was talking about. He decided to use this as an opportunity.

“Popular guy, huh?”

Marinette leaned back with a defeated look on her face. She groaned

“Yeah, his name is Adrien. As in Adrien freaking Agreste. The famous model.”

“Wow, you go to school with that guy huh?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you like him?” Marinette started blushing profusely.

“I mean I like him but I don’t like him -like him, I mean, he’s just a friend- well we’re not really friends but he’s always been nice to me-“

“Mari, calm down, I just meant do you think he’s nice.” Marinette straightened up.

“Oh, yeah I do. I think he’s really thoughtful and sweet.”

Chat had no idea what to do with that information. If Marinette thought he was thoughtful and sweet then why did she always freak out around him? He had no idea how to ask why she was so weird around Adrien without giving up his identity so he just let the confusion slowly drive him insane.

+

Eventually Chat was visiting Marinette more than he wasn’t .Even Ladybug seemed to notice how quickly he was ready to race back to Marinette’s every night after patrol.

“Got any plans after this Minou?”

“Oh just gonna go see a friend.”

“Oh? Whats she like?”

“Incredible. She’s strong, she’s funny, she’s smart. Way cooler than me.”

“She sounds great Chat.”

“Yeah, she is. She’s kinda like my best friend.”

+

They talked for hours and they didn’t hold back.Sometimes he would model designs that Marinette wanted to try, sometimes Chat would sit in front of Marinette while she played with his hair and put it in braids, sometimes Chat would try out new puns and Marinette would rate them, sometimes they would talk about Hawkmoth and how they hoped he would be caught soon. Sometimes they would comfort each other.

Chat nearly lost it when he came to Marinette’s balcony and saw her red rimmed eyes.

“Mari, whats wrong?” Marinette started sobbing immediately. Without even thinking, he pulled her in for a hug and let his head settle on the top of her head.

“It’s okay,” he whispered. He was a little frightened. He’d never seen Marinette like that before. Ever.

“I’m sorry,” she said, pulling away and wiping at her eyes.

“It’s just this girl at school. She’s a liar and I can’t stand it so I tried to call her out but no one would believe me. They all told me that I was just jealous and it was my own friends and I-“ Marinette broke down again. Her words were almost incoherent but Chat already knew what she was talking about. His heart broke a little. He knew Lila was a liar. He knew that Lila was being mean to her and he knew that no one at school believed Marinette. Except him. He had let it all slip from his mind because never in a million years had he considered that Marinette would be fazed. She was so strong and so resilient it hadn’t even occurred to him that Marinette could get knocked down. And then Chat felt like an idiot.

Of course Marinette was hurt. Anyone would be hurt if their own friends turned on them. Marinette was a normal girl like anyone else even if she was strong, and she had feelings. That’s when Chat got mad. Not just mad, but pissed. The kind of pissed that makes you shake so hard that your vision turns red. He made up his mind right there. Tomorrow he was gonna put a stop to this. No one deserved to be treated like this, least of all his Mari.

Chat was so caught up in his own thoughts as he held Marinette in his arms he didn’t even notice that from then on, when he thought of Marinette, he always thought of her, as his Mari.

+

The two of them got increasingly more comfortable with each other. After that night, they stopped just being close emotionally. It wasn’t uncommon for Chat to lay his head in his Mari’s lap or for her to lay her head on Chat’s shoulder. Sometimes when they would look at the stars, Chat would drape his arm around her shoulder.

After that night, Adrien made more of an effort with Marinette at school. He wanted her to know that there was always someone on her side to stand up for her. Not because Marinette couldn’t stand up for herself, but because he didn’t want her to have to.

“You know I find it a little crazy that we talk almost everyday and you haven’t talked about boys once.” Marinette stiffened.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean we talk constantly but you’ve never once talked about a crush or a guy you like. I think its weird. You know that I’m in love with Ladybug. How come you won’t tell me who you’re in love with.”

“Maybe I’m not in love with anybody!” Marinette protests. The two of them were together on the balcony again. Marinette was sitting with her legs crossed, leaned back, supporting herself on her arms. Chat had his head in her lap, body strewn out as he played with a flower he’d stolen out of someones yard. They’d already been sitting together for at least an hour but they’d spent most of it in a comfortable silence.

“Everyone has a crush on somebody. You’re 16.” Chat was smirking as he started to pick the petals from his flower one by one.

“Well how old are you? I heard you were over 5,000 years old so I bet you can’t even remember what it’s like to be 16.”

“First of all, my age is classified information. Second, you’re avoiding my question. You can’t lie to me, Mari.”

Marinette was quiet for a moment.

“You can’t make fun of me.” Marinette suddenly looked embarrassed and she looked away.

“I would never! Scouts honor.”

Marinette sighed before placing her head in her hands

“Ammphm.” The sound was muffled and completely unintelligible.

“Mari, I can’t hear you with your face in your hands.” He could, however, hear her groan of frustration.

“It’s Adrien. I have a huge, stupid, giant, crush on Adrien.” Chat sat up so fast his head slammed right into Marinette’s.

“Ow, Chat what the hell?”

“Adrien?” Marinette rubbed her head.

“I said you can’t make fun of me.” Chat straightened a little, trying to appear unfazed.

“No I’m not making fun of you, just surprised I guess.”

“Why are you surprised?” Chat was backing himself into a corner and he was scrounging for ways to get out.

“Um- because- I – I mean- I met him once and he seemed like a jerk.” Chat was mentally hitting himself. He seriously couldn’t come up with a better lie than that?

“That doesn’t sound like him. Maybe you just met him when he was in a bad mood?”

“Well, are you sure that you don’t just find him attractive because he’s famous?”

And just like that, Marinette shoved Chat out of her lap faster than Plagg could gobble Camembert and she gave him the look. The one that she used when Chloe was terrorizing her classmates or when Lila would lie. The look that he’d prayed to God would never be directed at him.

“Of course not you ass. You don’t even know him. He’s kind and thoughtful and all he wants is to make friends. And you know what?! I don’t even care that he’s famous. And quite frankly I can’t believe that you would even think that matters to me.” Marinette stood up and crossed her arms.

“You can show yourself out.” She stomped her way down the ladder and into her room, slamming the door behind her without so much as a second glance.

Chat put his head in his hands. “I’m such a fucking idiot.”

+

Adrien didn’t know what to do. He laid in his bed and stared at the ceiling, thinking about how he had no clue what to do. He replayed Marinette’s words over and over and over in his head.

He’s kind and thoughtful and all he wants is to make friends. And you know what?! I don’t even care that he’s famous.

He hadn’t really thought about the way he felt about his Mari. She was funny and strong and cute and she was his very good friend. Was she just a friend to him?

He was in love with Ladybug. But lately, he’d kind of put his thoughts for her on the back burner. It was almost a knee jerk reaction. Who did he love? Ladybug. It was automatic. And it wasn’t like he just wasn’t in love with her anymore. If anything he felt like their relationship had gotten a little stronger. Their teamwork started to feel more in sync. She started to laugh at his puns instead of looking at him like an annoying little brother. She didn’t scold him for his flirting.

He knew he could never let go of what he felt for Ladybug, but he couldn’t dismiss that he might also have feelings for Marinette. Would he be an asshole for pursuing her while he still had feelings for Ladybug? Adrien was so screwed. He couldn’t keep up with all of his thoughts and he hated that he couldn’t confide in anyone about it. Especially because usually when he wanted to get something off his chest, he would immediately talk to Marinette.

How did it happen? How did he get there? How did it go from being nice, being friendly, to whatever this was? When did he start feeling like this? He felt like an idiot.

Adrien felt like an idiot and all he wanted to do was scream. What the hell was he gonna do?

“Plagg.”

“Yeeees?”

“I don’t know what to do.”

“When in doubt, I just do what I want. It usually works out.”

“Didn’t you tell me you destroyed Atlantis.”

“I said usually works out.”

“You aren’t making me feel any better.”

“Look kid, I don’t know anything about love, but I know that you’re gonna do the right thing. In the end, you always do.” Adrien didn’t respond.

+

When Chat finally decided he was ready, he made his way to Marinette’s balcony. He was so nervous he was shaking and he was shaking so much that petals were beginning to fall off the flowers he’d gathered into a bouquet. She wasn’t on the balcony when he got there but he bent down to the trap door and knocked gently. Chat felt like time was passing around him in slow motion. What seemed like hours later, Marinette cracked open the trap door.

“Have you come to apologize for being an ass?”

“Yes ma’am.”

The door flew open and Mari climbed up until she was sitting on the edge, legs dangling into her room and arms crossed. Her hair was down and she was in her pajamas and most importantly, she looked beautiful. Even if there was a scowl on her face.

“I’m listening.”

Chat took a deep breath.

“I’m an idiot.” It came out fast and loud like the words were tumbling out of his mouth. Marinette looked unimpressed.

“Uh huh.” Chat scratched his head.

“I was acting like an idiot. I know you aren’t the kind of person who would fall in love with someone just because they’re famous. You’re smart and a good judge of character and you would never feel strongly about someone just because of the way they look on the outside. I know that. You caught me off guard and I didn’t know what to say so I just said something stupid and I’m really sorry.” Marinette held her expression for a mere moment before giving up and giving Chat a soft smile.

“Thank you.”

“Well, there’s more..”Marinette cocked an eyebrow but said nothing.

“I have something I have to tell you and its really important to me.” Chat handed the flowers he’d been holding to Marinette.

“Okay, whats wrong?”

“Look Mari, I trust you more than anyone else in the world. You’re my best friend and you’re the most incredible person I’ve ever met. You’re strong, you’re smart, you’re kind, and- and you’re beautiful.” Chat looked everywhere but at Marinette’s face as he kept talking.

“I’ve thought about it a lot over the past few days and I realized that you’re one of the most important things in my life. And because of the trust I have in you and the way I care about you, I decided that you deserve to know who I am.”

“Wait- Chat-“

“Plagg, Claws In.”

Marinette dropped the flowers.

“Oh my god.”

“Marinette I love you and you deserve to know that.” Marinette put her hand to her forehead.

“Oh my god.”

“Mari, are you okay.”

“Um…. Oh my god.” Adrien fidgeted with his shirt awkwardly.

“Not to ruin the moment, but I’m staving.” Adrien rolled his eyes and pulled a pieve of camembert out of his shirt pocket.

“Plagg, please shut up and sit down. Marinette do you want me to do anything right now? I know this is a lot, I didn’t mean to overwhelm you.”

“I- Chat-Adrien-Oh my god.”Marinette was staring at the trap door like she wanted to slip down into it. Adrien was standing there awkwardly, still fidgeting with his shirt. Finally Mari pushed herself up to stand, put her hands on her hips and looked Adrien dead in the eye.

“Tikki spots on.” Adrien stared and for a moment it didn’t register with him. But then-

“Oh my God.” And then Adrien was laughing. It was a hysterical laugh that laughed when nothing else made sense. When irony is shoved so far down your throat you think swords will come out of your ass.

When Adrien finally stopped laughing, he plopped himself down on the floor of Marinette’s balcony and laid down so that all he could see was the stars.

“You broke him,” Plagg said.

“He broke me first,” Marinette grumbled. She sounded far away.

“I don’t really know what to say,” Adrien admitted.

“ Me neither.” Adrien glanced at Marinette who was transformed right in front of him. She looked as far away as she sounded.

“Can you just lay here with me and hold my hand while I figure it out. And then Marinette looked at him and Adrien felt like an idiot all over again. Because in her face he could see her. She wasn’t Ladybug, she was his Mari. And they weren’t two people he loved they were one person he loved and somehow things were simpler and more complicated all at the same time.

Marinette didn’t respond to him. She just walked over to him and all but fell down in the space next to him and grasped his hand tight in hers.

And after a long while of the two of them rifling through their thoughts, Marinette spoke.

“You’re an idiot.”

[snowwhite-andtheknight]

(This is mostly edited. It includes the original smaller list, added on to. Also, I’m a bit worried that I might have explained the Canon Divergent fic poorly. I’m sorry. I don’t mean anything bad by it.) (It’s better edited than my first submission for it, that had a bunch of typos, but since this is long, I may not have proofread and fixed up everything worded funny or spelled wrong.) 

I’m going to preface this off with the fact that I’m a multishipper, and ship quite a variety of pairings, so this list might go all over the place. (Also, I’ve never written a fic rec before, though I have recommended fics and gushed about several often enough.) First of all, Above and Below Surface by Whitehorse102 immediately comes to mind. It’s probably my favorite AU fic that I’ve ever read for ZenYuki and possibly, my favorite I’ve ever read in general. It’s a Mer!AU; a type of AU that I’m always reading, but Whitehorse102 writes it so differently than any other Mer!AU, I’ve seen. The world building is insanely good, and the story reads a lot more like a published novel than a multichapter fanfic; there’s world building that even takes in parts of canon and plays around with them a bit. The ZenYuki is built up slowly. It’s a work in progress of the writer’s, and such a lovely read, that you absolutely would not regret reading it or rereading it. https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12201172/1/Above-and-Below-Surface Apparently, the first fic I read was Of Assassins and Apples by Realm-Leaper, though since I sometimes accidentally refavorite stuff, changing the date that I favorited it or may have read stuff I didn’t favorite, I might not be accurate with this. It’s an Obi-centric oneshot collection with two oneshots, that I vaguely remember reading. (Eventually, I’ll share stuff that aren’t on Fanfiction.net, because I read all over the place.) I started rereading it, and it has almost all the amazing Obi headcanons that I also have. The first oneshot is an Obi and Zen friendship piece, and honestly, maybe this is where most of my Obi headcanons came from as far as backstory. This oneshot collection of two oneshots is well worth your time! I’d wondered if the Mukaze and Obi scene was canon, had convinced myself that the talk they had was canon and took place during the Tanbarun Arc, but it was this fanfic, the second oneshot has an absolutely incredible and in character scene where Obi and Mukaze talk a few things out. (Honestly, it’s on my mind whenever I read a story where the two of them talk or interact in any way, and it a hundred percent affects the way I remember canon.) So do check it out! It’s a lovely two oneshot collection centering on Obi. https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12933248/1/Of-Assassins-and-Apples My favorite ANS OC right now is Setsuko/Vixen/fox, from Nostalgic Family by your1ocalpotato. I decided to read some of Potato’s work on a whim a few months back, once I realized that Potato wrote stories, and I absolutely adore Setsuko, especially within Nostalgic Family; I just love that universe, the added backstory for Obi, the found family dynamics, the way that Setsuko may be rough around the edges from the life she lived, but she cares deeply for her family, especially Obi. Just the sibling bond that Setsuko and Obi have in it is absolutely incredible, and in that particular universe, Setsuko has barely met Izana, so there’s a chance that that slow burn will eventually pick up, and Izana/Setsuko is such a lovely pair; they contrast very beautifully together, and it’s got to be my favorite Izana/OC pairing. Honestly, Potato’s stories are really good and more people need to read them. https://archiveofourown.org/works/22926751/chapters/54800950 (The Den Series is the name of the particular series I’m talking about, though there is a different story with Setsuko, where she has a different backstory, and it’s pretty much all slowburn Izana/Setsuko. Both are worth a read, though I haven’t finished the longer, slow burn fic yet.) As for An AU I Took A Chance On (And Now Love), it would be the Quarantine AU, that Muselover1901 wrote: Here With(out) You. I figured I’d read a Quarantine AU, and that one was really beautifully written. It’s one of my favorites by Muse. (I may throw in a few other stories that I recommend by Muse, because she’s a super talented ZenYuki writer.) I usually avoid writing any Quarantine AUs or Pandemic AUs unless I really feel like I need to. The same usually goes with reading them; I’ve found at least one good Quarantine AU in about four or so fandoms now. (I usually only read one per fandom, if it seems interesting.) Honestly, this is probably my favorite Quarantine AU ever. It’s longer, and the world is pretty well established. (And it’s a really lovely domestic ZenYuki oneshot.) https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13668279/1/Here-With-out-You I’m going to cheat a little on the next two, because I actually reviewed them (and reviewed them around the same time). First, I want to mention a fic that Made Me Laugh Out Loud; the first one that comes to mind is A Snowy Surprise by MuseLover1901. It’s the first one that pops into my head, though I know that I’ve laughed out loud at probably plenty of other stories. I actually was unsure before I read it whether it was a romantic story or not, and had been a bit nervous about jumping in and reading it, but once I started to read it, it was love at first sight. There’s a snowball fight in it, and I’ll have to say one particular hit made me laugh out loud. The story is mostly a friendship story. (The kind of story that I always long for more of in any fandom, because I love friendship stories as much as I love romance stories, and I also love family stories just as much.) But it’s lighthearted and doesn’t contain too many manga spoilers for me, since I’m terribly behind in the manga right now. (I haven’t read all of Muse’s work yet, because some of them have more manga spoilers than I’m ready to read. I’m biding my time for the day that I can just binge read them obsessively. It will happen.) https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13668260/1/A-Snowy-Surprise So, here’s the story, I’m cheating by mentioning instead of the above one. (I reviewed them around the same time, so it works, I think.) For A Fic That Made Me Friends With The Author, I’d have to say A Quick Library Visit; it’s a short, sweet read, and if you want quick ZenYuki fluff, it’s a go to. I read it around the same time as the above two Muse fics, and for some reason, some of Muse’s newest stories didn’t have reviews, so I figured I’d review. Shortly after, I reviewed A Quick Library Visit and A Snowy Surprise, Muse messaged me to thank me. (She’s really cool by the way.) And then, a little while later, I joined the old ZenYuki Week Server, and Muse invited me over to a ZenYuki Writing Collab Server, and we became fast friends after that. (She remembered me based off of the two reviews I’d left on her stories, which was pretty cool and definitely humbling.) (Also, heads up, I’ll post the fanfiction links to Muse’s stories, but she also posts them on AO3, so they’re there as well.) (I wish there was a reverse for this panel, because through the ZenYuki Writing Server; I met phenomenal writers and began reading their work as well!) https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13668268/1/A-Quick-Library-Visit As for A Fic That Got Me Involved In The Fandom, I may be cheating by mentioning this too, since I starting writing fanfics for ANS practically right after I finished watching Season Two. The Mistress, the Plan, and the Secret by MisusedEllipses really made me long to write for Prince Raji/Shirayuki, and really kicked me off in that little rarepair haven, that Season Two won me over towards. This is an incredible fanfic, has absolutely amazing characterization throughout, and is incomplete on Fanfiction. (I’m hoping that somewhere online, it sits pretty and finished, waiting for me to rediscover it. I may be overly hopeful.) Okay, it ties in onesided!ObiYuki feelings, onesided!PrinceRajiYuki feelings, and wonderful characterization and sibling banter between Eugena and Rona! Honestly, Raji is written so well that it practically reads like canon: a very hard feat indeed for any writer to accomplish. Just, wow! I don’t know who to root for: Raji, Zen, or Obi! It diverges from canon right before the kidnapping, so Shirayuki never gets kidnapped, and eventually a rather interesting Raji and Obi friendship forms, though that’s right where the last current chapter is. It hasn’t been updated in four or five, I guess now or soon, years, but it’s well worth a read. I will recommend this to anyone if given a chance, regardless of whether the person is a multishipper or not. I love the friendship, the romance, the family, and humor that comes along with Raji’s siblings’ banter. It’s just a phenomenal canon divergent fic, and it’s what really made me realize there was a need for more Raji X Shirayuki fanfics, and it left me crazy about filling that gap. https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12156186/1/The-Mistress-the-Plan-and-the-Secret I’m going to make a rather honest claim here, even though I’m not sure how often this writer will come up in what I gush about here, but this writer should: geneee is one of my favorite writers in the fandom. (I’m not sure if geneee is still active.) When I eventually thought of a fic with A Favorite Minor Character of mine, this particular story came up. history doesn’t repeat itself but it often rhymes is an absolutely amazing precanon story where it focuses entirely on Ryuu, gives him some backstory! (It’s an amazing read, and it follows his journey to becoming a Court Herbalist.) Honestly, the fandom needs a lot more Ryuu fics. (On a side note, a fic by a different writer also came to mind with this, but since that’s more romantic than this gen fic, I figured I’d stick with this one. The other one that comes to mind is the only fic where I could find Kai as a main character. It’s by a different writer, but if I can stick it into this recommendation, I will tell you more about it.) Geneee writes really good fics. I know geneee has a fanfiction account, but I think geneee might have an AO3 as well. https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12687531/1/history-doesn-t-repeat-itself-but-it-often-rhymes For Pre-Canon, I want to mention a lovely story by an incredible (mostly?) MitsuKiki writer that may not actually be active anymore. (Unless the writer uses a different site now.) (This story is actually not a MitsuKiki fanfic, though it is still one of my all time favorite stories by fiesa.) Roses, Violets by fiesa. It’s a beautiful story that focuses on Zen, Mitsuhide, and Kiki during the years since Kiki came there. Zen develops a crush on an OC, who doesn’t like him like that, who actually likes Mitsuhide, interestingly enough. It’s not really a romance story, as it focuses on the way time passes and uses summer and flowers to express that. The perspectives shift, so some parts may need to be reread to understand who is feeling that way, but it’s all written so beautifully. You get to see Zen develop a crush and get heartbroken, Mitsuhide trying to be really nice, knowing Zen likes the woman and sort of trying to let something happen between Zen and the OC. Though, Zen feels that that’s hopeless, since she likes Mitsuhide. It’s more a story of the friendship between Zen, Mitsuhide, and Kiki, and what growing up entails. It’s Zen before Shirayuki, and it makes for a rather lovely read. (It’s a multichapter, though it’s not a super lengthy one as far as chapter count goes. It’s well worth a read though.) (fiesa and geneee I discovered around the same time, and I love what both of them write so much.) (So, if you like it, it’s always worth checking out the rest of fiesa’s work.) https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12864975/1/Roses-Violets I was just thinking over how to mention an incredible writer, that wrote two ZenYuki oneshot that I’ve read and fell in love with. (Spotted the oneshot section. If I have to refill part of the Bingo Board later, so be it.) The Art Of Watching Stars Fall by Zen Wisteria on Tumblr. The metaphors and images are just so pretty and beautiful and with gorgeous meanings. (The writer feels a bit like a poet, and since I love poetry, that’s a definite plus in my book.) It’s really fluffy and sweet and contains pretty much all of the wonderful reasons to ship ZenYuki. It’s a delight to read and to reread. It’s highly recommended by me. https://zen-wistaria.tumblr.com/post/117283326416/it-feels-like-years-since-shes-seen-his-face AU That Made Me Find The Source Material: Lyrias Station by Eclectic80. I’m cheating here too. Shh… I’ve been slowly getting into Star Trek over the years very deliberately, and I just loved this fic so much! I found it first on the ObiYuki Community, going through a lot older fics, and then fell in love with just the way that Eclectic80 wrote it! It’s an absolutely incredible Star Trek AU, and a lovely ObiYuki story. (I think I did start with reading Historical Fiction, and it surprised me by being a Star Trek AU.) (On the note of really great AUs, there’s a Star Wars AU for ObiYuki that’s incredible, that I’ll have to refind at some point, and an incredible Harry Potter AU. I actually asked a lot of questions to people who know Star Wars lore far better than I do, in order to work through how much of the Star Wars AU for ObiYuki could plausibly happen in canon. (I think it was all of it. It was a great and engaging read too!) The Harry Potter AU left me obsessed with it, and the accidental soul bonding spell, whoops. But, since I don’t remember their titles or who wrote them, I’ll have to recommend them some other day. (I think they are also far back on the community page. I haven’t finished exploring it, since I took a break a while ago.) Back to Lyrias Station, it’s an absolutely incredible read whether you know very little about Star Trek, nothing at all, or a lot. I fall somewhere in the middle, and honestly, it’s a fantastic read, whenever you want to dig in and explore. (I may have reread certain oneshots in it way too much for my own good, practically back to back. It’s a really wonderful reread as well.) https://archiveofourown.org/works/14414148/chapters/34487988 For A Fic That Gave Me A New OTP, though my OTP is hard to define, so I’m technically cheating here, but Let Me Be Bold by Kaedix. It’s an IzanaYuki story, and that is a pairing that I was curious about, but hadn’t really shipped until I read this oneshot collection. I absolutely need to read the third oneshot; it’s new, and bound to be incredible. But, the first oneshot had me sort of falling in love with Izana right alongside Shirayuki, and the second oneshot had me cheering for Shirayuki, and all in all, it’s an incredible read that is well worth your time, whether just to read something new or different or whether you are on the fence about this fabulous rarepair. (Since it did win me over to the ship, I’m including it here.) It’s incredible! Go read it! https://archiveofourown.org/works/20982494/chapters/49894448 I was trying to figure out a fic that I loved that was under a thousand words, and since I haven’t paid a huge amount of attention to the word count, I couldn’t think of one at first. So, I was going through one of the writers that I really like the writing of, and stumbled upon one that I immediately remembered. Importance by bountifulnuggets. I remembered it strictly as the wedding story where Zen and Shirayuki hugged Obi, who desperately needed a hug. I’ve never read anything like it before, and it’s saturated with friendship. (Nugget is a phenomenal writer, so basically anything by her is really good, so if you haven’t heard of her, go check out her writing. You won’t be disappointed.) (I got temporarily sidetracked before going through Nugget’s stories, by a story I hadn’t read by Eclectic80, a ZenYuki(!) story, that if for some reason, I extend and do more than a Bingo Board (or find another way to include), I’ll tell you the title of. Either way, the story by Nugget is a lovely hurt/comfort fic that is more comfort than hurt, and it’s definitely a beautiful read. https://archiveofourown.org/works/26433481 Finally, found it! Okay, the Missing Scene fic that is my favorite is Do something with this guy by Codango. It explores how Obi went from shooting at Shirayuki to being Zen’s retainer, and it does a lovely job of it! I absolutely adore this story, and the writing of it is beautiful. I took the time to reread it, and Obi’s perspective is spot on in it, and it gives amazing behind the scenes looks at what is happening, mostly over how he came to work for Zen. But, it also includes the scene where Obi catches Shirayuki for the first time, all told through Obi’s perspective, and his thought process is absolutely perfect. His thoughts read very much like the canon ones, that we are sometimes shown, and it feels like it really does contain the missing scene from canon. It’s an amazing read, and definitely worth your time. https://archiveofourown.org/works/4386368 I’m going to cheat again here. (Who knows? These times I feel like I’m cheating, may actually be fair.) But, I don’t know what tropes, I like or whether I’ve read Trope Reversals, but I was going back through ObiYukiFiteNite and ObiYukiMadness on the community, and stumbled upon a story that I read ages ago, that fits kind of well with my Mukaze headcanons, and is goofy enough that I could see him acting that way. It does turn a trope over on its head, too. For Favorite Trope Reversal, I’m going to mention Mukaze’s Gift (Only One Bed) by HideTheRemote. The debate over whether Mukaze supports ObiYuki in it is rather amusing, and the gift, itself, is rather funny as a wedding gift to his daughter and son-in-law. It’s a delightful read that certainly surprised me. (I’d also never seen the One Bed Trope with a married couple before, so that was an added bonus.) I imagine that when he has grandkids one day; he’ll realize that his gift wasn’t used as intended. (Poor delivery guy, who had to know what kind of bed he was delivering, based off of the sheer awkwardness of the situation.) https://hidetheremote.tumblr.com/post/172338198868/mukazes-gift-only-one-bed For Gen Fic, I’m going to go with Shirayuki’s Laugh by otomiya-tickles. This is a multichapter story, and not every chapter is actually gen. (There’s onesided ObiYuki and established ZenYuki at parts.) It’s literally a story where Shirayuki’s friends find out she’s ticklish slowly, and each one gets to tickle her. It takes place within various parts of canon, and is a really fun read. I’m pretty sure that I laughed every time she did. (Even though I probably shouldn’t admit that, since I wasn’t being tickled.) It’s a blast from start to finish, and I ended up reading all of the chapters in one go. Most of it’s just friendship. (Ooh, my favorite chapter is probably the Raji one. Shh…) Also, it gives a reason as to why Shirayuki chose not to ride on Mitsuhide’s horse, after her first time riding on a horse with him. (It’s just an absolute treat, and I never knew tickle fics could be this fun!) I highly recommend it. https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11861915/1/Shirayuki-s-Laugh I’ve included so many stories already with some of my favorite headcanons and ones that feel canon, but I realized I still had a story to share with that category. So the story That Contains My Favorite Headcanon is Bittersweet Heart by DemonHeart42. It’s actually a new fic, and a onesided ObiYuki story. (Like canon, there’s established ZenYuki.) It’s sort of post canon, as it shows Obi and Shirayuki’s friendship after Shirayuki and Zen are married. It flows like canon, and the writing is beautiful. The headcanon bit that strikes me is earlier in the one shot, Obi’s reasons for never calling Shirayuki by her name are addressed, and it hits I’m pretty sure all of my Obi headcanons for that, but not only that, but there’s thought behind how long Obi’s loved her, which he can not trace back to a particular moment, since he feels that he’s always loved her, though he certainly knows he didn’t fall for her the first time he saw her. (It matches my headcanons for Obi’s feelings to a T, pretty much.) It’s a lovely read, and the only Akagami No Shirayuki-Hime story that DemonHeart42 has written. (It does make me long to read more stories by DemonHeart42, and I undoubtedly will, if another Akagami No Shirayuki-Hime fanfic gets posted online by this writer.) I’m just really happy that I found a spot to include this story; it’s one of the few new ObiYuki related fanfics on fanfiction, so I don’t think many people have read it. And it’s one of the best that I’ve read for them. https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13687412/1/Bittersweet-Heart Since I am a major ZenYuki shipper as well as ObiYuki shipper, I don’t know if I should include this as the canon divergent fic, but I absolutely love so many scenes in it. Fragments by happybubbles is what I initially put for Canon Divergence, so most of the description will express that, but I’m going to say that it’s a story that that made me Weep Real Tears. As a quick explanation, I don’t care for ZenYuki breakup fics for the most part, but I love this one. (And I read way too many of them to complain too much, I guess. I still read them, because I love ObiYuki about as much as I love ZenYuki, and the breakup fics obviously can be incredible, like the part in Fragments where the breakup happens.) (I really hope that I explained this right, because I know obviously this type of canon divergence is popular and really well loved, so I know that those AUs are good in a lot of ways. I’ve read many of them, with varying levels of interest, and I don’t know how to explain it, because I’m not trying to knock an AU.) This is where shipping ZenYuki makes it hard sometimes to ship ObiYuki, plus my love of Zen often gets in the way, and it pains me pretty bad to read breakups for Zen and Shirayuki. So, this particular story is the breakup scene, I remember, where Shirayuki broke up with Zen, and she’s still dealing with the emotional fallout of it. She’s not numb, and though she feels correct in breaking up with Zen, it hurts like she wouldn’t believe. And seeing Shirayuki in so much pain, while dealing with a ZenYuki breakup to boot, really hurts me. I cried alongside her, and Obi takes the time to comfort her and spend time with her. Everyone else that day gives Obi the turnaround and won’t explain what happened to Shirayuki, because Obi hasn’t seen her. Just, this scene hurts me so much. (I love the ObiYuki developed in the story, and Zen was written pretty well from what I remember, so it’s definitely worth a read.) Also, I’m in the camp with people that only ship ZenYuki, as in I think if canon broke up ZenYuki, I’d be broken, even if it established ObiYuki or RajiYuki or something else I ship or am partial too. This is the only clarification that I have that makes me wonder if ZenYuki is my true OTP. I have a tendency of reading a ton of ObiYuki fanfics, because that’s my go to for ObiYuki, especially AUs. I love AUs a ton, regardless, but ObiYuki AUs hold an extra special place in my heart. (My favorite ObiYuki AU, is the Obi meets Shirayuki first ones; they are all so different and so, so good!) (Also, if anyone knows the name or author of the ObiYuki story, where Obi consumes poison and almost dies, that one made me cry as well and is also really good!) I remember so many of the scenes and often forget that they are all in the same story. (I loved the parents day chapter, where Ryuu cooked for Obi and Shirayuki. I adore the first chapter of the fic, where Obi’s caught napping.) (It diverges from canon through ZenYuki breaking up, by the way.) There are probably other scenes within it as well that I absolutely adore. I’ve either read all of the chapters or most of them, even though it goes way further through canon than I’m currently at. I just love the story, and all the beautiful scenes that Bubbles writes, that I couldn’t just not read more. https://archiveofourown.org/works/8031781/chapters/18392416 For Favorite Trope, even though it’s probably not my favorite trope, just a trope led fanfic that is really, really good, it’s the Harry Potter AU, I talked about up above! I finally found it, and realized I could stick it here! Welcome to Hogwarts, the School of Social Anxiety and Crushing Expectations (and also Highly Illegal Soul Bond Spells) by Hymn. I’ve never been a fan of Harry Potter, but somehow this story sucked me in from the get go, and I really love the kind of slow burn ObiYuki in it, the longing for the other that they are pretty sure is either from the spell or unrequited, despite being requited, and all of the trying to balance school life with being accidentally soul bonded together, and just even the background references to ZenYuki are really good. The scenes within the story are absolutely adorable to a bit awkward for Obi and Shirayuki, and I think I read this oneshot at least five times so far. Mostly from the original Tumblr post, before I discovered that it was on AO3. Since then, I’ve read it on AO3. I have no idea how this story has gripped me so much, but it has. It is a hundred percent worth your time. You really should read it. (It’s inspired off of the Accidental Soul Bond Trope, which led to the amazing Star Wars AU by someone else, a lovely Soul Bond focused AU that is also really good, and I can’t remember what else. Maybe I do have a soft spot for this particular trope that I never really knew about before discovering the older event that they were written for.) https://archiveofourown.org/works/18772360/chapters/44535142 I know this is technically not a fight scene, but for Action-Packed Fight Scene, I’m going to choose the car chase scene in At Her Not-So-Secret Service by infinitelystrangemachine_old. I don’t read a lot of action packed stories in general, but I definitely don’t read many action packed stories for ANS. (And I’m pretty sure if I named any myriad of Chuck fanfics, that wouldn’t count. Shh…) So, I’m sticking with this story, because it came to mind when I remember action packed scenes, and the writing here is brilliant. (I obviously love the car chase scene and the aftermath of that, where Obi’s sitting in the car with her.) There’s a touch of humor every now and again, and the writing style, itself, is very beautiful. I really, really hope that this story gets updated some time in the future. There’s something about a Modern AU, Bodyguard AU, for ObiYuki that is so good! (Or any Modern AU Bodyguard fics in general, because there’s one for Chuck that is so, so good. I know I should just talk about ANS here, but oh, my gosh, I seem to really like Bodyguard AUs lately. Shh…) So, even though there’s no fight scene here, and there’s no attack or even portrayal of her kidnapping prior, At Her Not-So-Secret Service is really, really good. (I really like how easily Obi seems to get along with everyone Shirayuki knows, the description in chapter one of the difference between Zen and Izana talking to Obi, the balister scene, which should sort of count as an action scene too. Either way, the writing here is really good and the scenes are very memorable.) (I think about the car chase the most, followed by the balister scene the second most.) (I had to look up this story just to find it again for this. It’s so good!) It’s a lovely story to read, with a lot of action-y tension, some complicated feelings, and a great mixture of emotion. Also, the humor is pretty great too! So, it’s well worth a read. https://archiveofourown.org/works/9837023/chapters/22080446 For my new Canon Divergent fic, I’m going to include Yours, Truly by Eclectic80. It’s canon divergent also due to a ZenYuki breakup, as well as a pen pal correspondence. I love the pen pal basis of it, Shirayuki and Obi not knowing who they are writing to, the whole slowly falling in love and coming to understand each other better through it. The picnic date thing, just the whole premise of the fic is so good. It’s an outstanding ObiYuki fic, and I’m absolutely in love with the idea of pen pals in fanfics, which this is the first that I’ve seen of pen pals within fanfics, I think, but it’s so good. The comfortable anonymity, that draws them closer, the hint of budding feelings, the advice Obi gives, or ideas he shares. The fact that they both know that the other is similar to someone they know, but are pretty positive that it can’t be the other. It’s a blast to read and so, so much fun! I highly recommend it. https://archiveofourown.org/works/21943480/chapters/52370371 Oh, my gosh! I found the poison story! It’s also the story with the kiss scene that comes to mind for me and so many others. Okay, for Steamiest Kiss, I’m going to go with And That’s The Reason We Need Lips So Much by Sabraeal. Okay, this story is absolutely amazing on so many levels. The almost death scene for Obi is so painful to read, and I cried pretty much from the very beginning of this fic, despite not knowing who several of the characters are, whoops. I’m still terribly behind in the manga, but the plot was so good, the writing was beautiful, and I loved it. Also, I loved the teasing and playfulness that goes on when Obi retells the story of Shirayuki saving his life, and of course, the way that Shirayuki gets him back for that. I love the silliness of the first time that he tells the story, where Zen, Mitsuhide, and Kiki are his main audience. It’s silly, and sounds so fairy tale-esque and romantic, that Obi’s surprised me, and it fits so well! Then, there’s the way Kiki joins in the banter. (She’s great in general!) The way Mitsuhide reacts and of course Zen’s silence. Then, there’s the later on, Shirayuki getting Obi back, Obi being unable to handle the teasing, and the loss of his good reputation, the way she gives in and finally asks him to kiss her. The way the whole kiss goes. Ryuu showing up, after having dealt with two other people refusing to work. (That decided kissing was better than work, much to Ryuu’s disappointment.) Ryuu’s support of Obi and Shirayuki; I feel so bad for Ryuu here, and yet, I’m pretty sure that when I finally get far enough in the manga to meet the other two characters caught kissing, I think I’ll ship them, though I’m not positive yet. The way they restore Obi’s reputation and the applause that they’re met with. It’s funny, full of banter, great characterization, and so much more! I just love this story, and I’m so glad that I managed to refind it. (I’d forgotten that all of these amazing moments were in one fic. Sabraeal wrote this absolutely amazingly!) Please do go read it! I’m positive that it’s one of my favorite oneshots. https://archiveofourown.org/works/8705884 I don’t know if MitsuKiki counts as enough of a rarepair, but there are not a lot of fics out there for them, so I’m including this here. For Rare Pair, The Five Stages Of Partnership by geneee. It was the first MitsuKiki story to come to mind for me by the way, and I love this side pairing so much. And this story does a very lovely job of expressing Kiki’s feelings and going through the years, starting with when she first met Mitsuhide and carrying on throughout all of the time getting to know him. (Aww, I could have counted it in Canon Compliant as well, but oh well.) https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12365055/1/The-Five-Stages-of-Partnership I probably should flip this and the Rare Pair slot, but I’m not going to. This one is a gem of a story as well; it’s a beautiful MitsuKiki story told from Mitsuhide’s perspective. (I was going to include a different MitsuKiki story by this same author, but I seen the summary for this one and remembered being blown away by it, so I took the time to reread it just now.) Silver by fiesa is the story I picked for Canon Compliant. It can take place in a few different spots in canon, but it really doesn’t sway the story into canon divergence. It’s a beautiful, very poetic MitsuKiki story, that captures Mitsuhide’s feelings beautifully, both towards Kiki and swordfighting in general. It’s an absolutely gorgeous fic. (It’s also just seven words over one thousand.) You really should read this story by fiesa; it’s one of my favorites by this particular writer and one of my favorite MitsuKiki stories. Also, check out more by fiesa; fiesa’s an absolutely incredible MitsuKiki writer! (Writes mostly MitsuKiki, but there are stories that fiesa’s written that aren’t MitsuKiki as well.) https://www.fanfiction.net/s/7801925/1/Silver Okay, I mentioned this story once before, but didn’t give you the title. (Also, on a quick side note, I will probably be posting a short fic rec right after this, with a few other fics, that I sort of teased by not listing the names of before up above and one additional one.) (Also, any writer I mentioned is worth reading as much of their work as you can, because they’re all so good!) Okay, so here is that Star Wars AU, I mentioned being absolutely in love with. Starlines by infinitelystrangemachine_old. So, this Star Wars AU absolutely blew me away, the first time that I stumbled upon it. It’s beautiful, and it ties back into the accidental soul bond trope, and I actually did ask people who know Star Wars way better than me, if this was possible within Star Wars, and yes, yes, it is! Shirayuki and Obi end up soul bonded and see each other randomly in places where technically the other one isn’t. Like a personalized hologram, I guess, since only they see each other. The first time they see each other is awkward for them both, and they don’t initially know what’s going on. (It’s great! Plus, they are on different sides of the war.) So, slowly they become friends and fall in love. It’s a premise I hadn’t seen before, and had me asking various Star Wars inspired questions, since it is so good! This I’m using for the Free Space on the board, the Apple. It’s an absolute delight to read. https://archiveofourown.org/works/14404602/chapters/33266145

[jennygirl2014]

Just Deserts-Chapter 2

(It’s finally here!  Sorry for the delay! I didn’t proofread or edit yet, so please don’t hate me, I will fix it up later. I just wanted to get it up.  Thanks for reading!)

Chapter Summary: Tawney goes over to Ransom’s for the first time, hoping to keep it professional.  But of course the arrogant asshole has to try and get under her skin.) Warnings: language, some mild racism.

Chapter 2

“This guy could be a murderer.” Kira’s voice carried over the kitchen.  She was busy getting her station set up for the day, having just arrived.  Meanwhile, even though it was only a little after ten in the morning, Tawney was cleaning up her mess for the day.  “Or a rapist. You don’t know.  Call him up and tell him to shove his deal up his ass.”

“And how else do I pay to have the car fixed without insurance?” Tawney replied as she placed the last of her dishes in the industrial dishwasher.  “He was gonna call the cops!”

“We could have a bake sale. You know people love your desserts. We could raise the money somehow.” Kira walked over, wiping her wet hands with a rag.  

“Cupcakes aren’t going to fix this, Ki.” Tawney finally looked her friend in the face.  “Besides, I don’t even have his number.”

“Even more reason not to go!” Kira fussed, “Seriously.  You’re signing up to be some creepy stranger’s house maid.”

“It’s just cooking and baking.  How else can I pay to have a freaking Beemer fixed?”

“A Beemer?  Fucking rich dickhead…” Kira scoffed.  

“If things get creepy, I’ll leave.”

“You better.  And you better not let him talk down to you.  If he does, slip something extra into a pie or something.” Typical Kira.

              Tawney knew her friend meant well, and she had every right to be concerned.  The truth was, Tawney really was nervous about the whole thing, but she didn’t see any other options at the moment.  After she had managed to get home the night before, she could barely sleep, between the adrenaline, the guilt, the anxiety of the unknown, and also not having a working air conditioner.  She still managed to roll out of bed and make it into work, extra early, at 2AM, just to be sure she could leave to get to this stranger’s house by noon.  Her lack of sleep was likely clouding her judgement as well, but she didn’t have time to worry about that.  She was just grateful that her boss loaned her a spare key and that he had given her permission to go in so early.  

              She had to use her GPS to find this guy’s house, which meant keeping her phone within sight, something that she was terrified over after how using her phone while driving had resulted the night before.  During the drive she was scolding herself for agreeing to this, this guy, Ransom, was a complete stranger.  Hell, he could have been a real perv, especially after how he jumped at the idea of being paid in other forms the night before, something that was not on her mind at all.  But he was a good looking guy, he was likely used to women just dropping to their knees for him.  Well, that wasn’t who she was.  And once she pulled into the driveway and finally saw this guy’s house, she was sure he was used to having all sorts of female company.  He was secluded, his house hidden by a wall of trees, yet practically the whole house was made of glass.  So many windows, so much to see, and like there was nothing he had to hide.  Just stepping foot into this house, she was going to feel exposed.  

              Her car rattled into a spot next to his and she parked it.  The damage on his car really wasn’t as bad as hers had been, and she eyed the scratched up side of his car before she fought with the broken handle to release the door to get out.  Every foot step up to his door made her heart pound harder, and her knife bag felt heavy as it hung from her shoulder.  When she was close enough to press the doorbell, she froze, thinking.  She still had time to run away, she could turn back and race out of there without him even knowing she was there.  How would he know?  How would he find her?  Maybe she could get away with this whole thing, no service required.

              Just as she started to weigh the decision in her mind, the door swung open and there he stood, the same man from the previous night. His blue t-shirt fit relaxed on his broad frame, but it still showed off a certain physique that caught her eye.  Hell, her eyes fell right onto his chest, and she instinctively held her breath.  “Good, you found the place.  I saw you walking up.” He spoke as he opened the screen door and held it open for her. Of course he saw her, all those windows. She still stood in place, like her feet were cemented to that spot on his top step.  She had a sinking feeling about stepping past that threshold, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. “Are you going to stand there, or are you going to come in?” he grew annoyed.  She put her guard up and stepped in past him.  

              Her eyes scanned the place.  Was this the place of a murderer, or a rapist, or a crazed pervert? It seemed more like the palace of a man who was born with a silver spoon in his mouth, a man without a care in the world, but all of the expectation.  It was big and spacey, and it made her feel so small, like she was being swallowed up. His furniture was leather, the hardwood was perfectly polished, and the smell in the air, dark and masculine, like pine, fresh and clean.  She did not belong in that house, standing in her already stained chef coat, wearing the sweat and smells of working eight hours in a kitchen.  This was all too pristine, too high class.  She felt vulnerable.

              She turned to him, to see him in his own habitat, and she was slightly alarmed to see him just standing there, eyeing her. She gulped and wet her lips, not knowing what to say, or how to even speak in such a situation.  Luckily, he handled that first awkward moment for her. Not to her surprise, this man likely has no sense of shame.  

“You look like you came from work.”

“I did come from work.” She replied.  

“Oh.” He shrugged it off, like working a full day before going to a second job was nothing. “Come on, I’ll show you the kitchen.” He walked ahead of her and led her into a large open kitchen. The countertops were marble, there was an island range and two ovens stacked into the wall on the far side.  Everything was dark rich tones with pops of stainless steel, perfectly collaborated.  This was her dream kitchen, a kitchen meant for hosting and cooking large elaborate meals, and it looked like it had never been touched.  He had no idea how lucky he was, or how much she envied him at that moment. “My maid, Maria, comes early every morning.  She just left, so, the kitchen is all ready and clean for you.” He informed her.  Tawney walked over to the island counter and set her bag down, looking around a bit more before opening up her bag and unrolling her tools.

“I clean up after myself.” She told him

“Why?  I just told you I have a maid.” He pulled out a stool and took a seat across from her.  

“Because I don’t like having other people clean up after me.” She replied as she pulled out a small notebook and a pen.  

“Suit yourself.”

“So,” she drew in a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves, and then sighed. “What kind of stuff do you like?”

“What do you mean?” she couldn’t believe his casual response.

“Like…what kind of foods do you like?” she paused, “You have had a cook before, right?  I mean, you said that last night.  Clearly they must have had some recipes you preferred.”

“Okay, miss sassy pants,” he took a small jab at her before he answered, “I’m a meat and potatoes kind of guy.  I like my protein.  I’m not a huge fan of vegetables or fish, but I’ll eat them if prepared to my liking.”

“Which means…?” she started taking notes down.

“Nothing boiled.  Sautéed is fine, roasted is fine.”

“Okay.”

“I like a good sandwich for lunch.  Breakfast I usually handle myself, just eggs and toast, so you’re off the hook there. At least for now.”

“At least for now?” she repeated his statement and looked up to make eye contact with him. “What…what does that mean?”

“It means sometimes I might like a nice cooked breakfast.”

“…I have a job, dude.” She reminded him.  “I have to work.”

“That’s not my problem.” He replied with a smug smile. “You damaged my car, which means you work when I need you, or I report it.  I’ll let you know ahead of time, that way you can work something out with your boss.”

“I’ll need twenty-four hours’ notice.”

“I was thinking more like a couple hours.”

“No, that won’t work.” She got annoyed.

“Okay, twelve.”

“Fine.” She gave in.

“And don’t call me dude.” He started to lecture her, “I’m not one of your homies.” That one wasn’t going to fly.

“Okay,” Tawney lifted her pen only to drop it and lay her hands on the marble as she addressed him. She wanted him to know how serious she was. “I may be young, and I may have damaged your car, for which I am sorry. But I’m here now, in a professional manner.  Which means, I show you respect,” she pointed to herself, “And you show me respect. Now it doesn’t take a detective to figure out we’re from different sides of the track, but…you will not talk to me like I’m some girl from the ghetto.  I worked hard to get where I am today.  And if you have any qualms about hiring a black girl, you can go ahead and call the cops about your car and then find yourself another cook because I won’t stick around for it.”

Ransom looked at her with wide eyes.  But then he scoffed and his expression turned to that of amusement.

“Wow.  Okay.  Well as long as we’re laying down rules,” he leaned in, “This is my house.  I don’t appreciate you showing up in a stained uniform, it looks messy.  And if you wanna talk about being a professional,” he tilted his head at her, “See what I’m saying?  So, bring a clean one.  No blasting music, no hanging out on your cell phone, you’re here to cook.  If I had guests over, I’ll let you know, but this contract is extended to them too.  If friends are here and they’re hungry, they’re going to get fed.  Got it?”

“Fine.” She felt like he was just trying to even the score some.  

“And I don’t have any qualms, just so you know.” He tossed that last part out there for affect. There was a moment of silence between them, like they were measuring each other up.

“We got off topic.” Tawney changed the subject back, “What do you like?  As far as food.” She clarified again.

“Italian.”

“There, that wasn’t so hard.”

“If you expect respect, then you’d better start giving it too. Missy.” He warned her.

“My name is Tawney.”

“That’s right, I forgot.” He rubbed his chin, “What kind of a name is Tawney, anyway?”

“Family name.  What kind of a name is Ransom?”

“You know I’m starting to regret not having you address me as Hugh.” He countered as he cut his eye at her.

“So, Italian,” she came back to topic, “What else?”

“Chinese.  Not a huge fan of Mexican.  Never been a fan of collard greens or chitlins.” He started to push her buttons again.  Tawney realized this was going to be a never- ending battle.  He thought he was being funny.

“Dessert?” she refused to let him see her get worked up.

“Oh yeah.  I’ve got a real sweet tooth.” When he finished his statement, she caught his eyes scanning her again.  

“Custards?  Cakes?”

“Cookies, pies, brownies…”

“Is that another cheap shot?”

“What?  Saying I like brownies?” he sat back and held his hands out in defense, but the smile was still sporting nothing but amusement. He knew what he was doing.

“What am I making today?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t thought that far.  But Maria brought groceries this morning.  Take a look around and see what you can come up with.” He stood up from the stool.  “Call it an audition.” He turned to walk away, but stopped and turned to her again.  “One more thing, don’t go snooping around the house.  The kitchen is on this floor, there’s no need for you to go upstairs.”

“Why would I go upstairs?”

“Exactly.” He paused, “I mean, unless you’re invited.”

Dick.

“I’m just fine right here.” She abruptly closed her notebook and turned to get to work.

              Ransom walked off into the living room while Tawney marched over to his fridge to figure out something.  She figured she would make enough food for him to last two days, he has said three days a week the night before, so maybe she could get away with not having to come again the following day.  She found some ham and roast beef for sandwiches, different cheeses, some ground beef, a couple tomatoes and a couple other things.  Then she went through the cupboards next, finding pasta, different spices, but not a whole lot.  She wondered what his previous cook had been doing, or how long he had gone without a cook. It was clear this guy wasn’t much into cooking for himself.  Then of course she had to come up with a dessert, since he had mentioned having a sweet tooth, and really, why not do one? There wasn’t a lot available, but she could figure something out.

“When was the last time you had a cook?” she called out to him.

“It’s been like a month I guess.” He replied from his couch, where he was sitting on his phone.  She wondered what rich people did during the day, by the looks of this guy, not much.

“What was your last cook’s name?” she asked another question as she found a bowl in the cupboard and pulled it down.  

“Tim…something…can’t remember his last name.  He didn’t stick around long.” Then he added, “They never really do.” His statement made her heart sink, she felt like her goose was cooked before she even had the chance.

“I’m going to need more things from the store, eventually.  There’s not a ton here.”

“Make a list, I’ll have Maria get them tomorrow.”

“Where does she shop?”

“God you ask a lot of questions.” He turned his head from the couch to shoot her an annoyed look.

“Never mind then.” She retorted and went about her business.  “Prick.” She muttered under her breath.

              Within a couple minutes, she had prepared him a sandwich with apple slices and some chips.  She arranged everything on a plate and called out to him when it was ready. He came over, took it from her, grabbed a can of soda from his fridge and went back to his spot on the couch to watch TV.  She figured if he didn’t like ham and cheese, he would say something, and when he didn’t, she figured everything was fine and she was ready to move on with tomorrow’s sandwich.  She caramelized some onions for a roast beef sandwich with swiss, and she made a garlic aioli and toasted the bread to keep it from going too soggy.  Next came a lasagna, which she threw together with the cans of tomato sauce he had in his pantry, but it was lacking without any fresh herbs.  Ransom saw this as he placed his plate in the sink.

“You’re using canned tomato sauce?”

“Well you don’t have a ton of fresh tomatoes or herbs, so…” she trailed off, keeping her eyes on the meat she was browning.  When she noticed that he wasn’t walking away she looked up at him. “I can’t make herbs appear out of thin air.”

“Just put it on the list.” He quickly reminded her of the list and walked away.  Tawney’s eyes went wide with annoyance, but she maintained her composure.

“How was the sandwich?” she genuinely wanted feedback.

“I like fresh tomato and lettuce on my sandwiches.  I would hope that a cook can dress up a sandwich…”

“I’ll put stuff on the list!” she snapped at him before he could finish.  The man shook his head and walked off.  She puffed out her frustration and rolled her shoulders.  He wasn’t making this easy.  

              The lasagna came out as best as she could manage without the ingredients she would have hoped for.  What was most annoying about all of this was that she knew how to make good food, and she wanted that good food on her own table, but she couldn’t afford to live like that.  The lasagna with canned tomato sauce was something she would whip together for herself, because it was cheaper.  Here he was complaining and it was out of being lazy.  Every minute in that house and every minute in Ransom’s presence reminded her of how different their worlds were.  The food still smelled good, and it would still taste good, but he was just looking to find fault in all of it.  Matters were made worse by the fact that she was exhausted, and that she was starving.  Her stomach was rumbling and starting to hurt.  It was almost like being teased, making so much food and not being able to eat. When Ransom came over to get a glass of water, he happened to hear her stomach growling.  She swallowed her embarrassment and looked away as he eyed her.

“Hungry?” he sounded like he was mocking her.

“I haven’t eaten in ten hours.” She defended herself.  Ransom leaned against the counter with his glass of water, watching as she washed up the dishes she had used.  

“Aren’t you going to make a dessert?”

“Yeah, I’m just cleaning up a little.” She tried not to make eye contact with him, but he lingered there.

“You can eat something if you’re hungry.” He offered.  Tawney was surprised by his suggestion; he didn’t seem the type to allow her to eat.

“I…I didn’t think you would…you know…” she didn’t know how to word whatever it was she was trying to say.

“I don’t care if you eat.” He snapped at her as he walked out of the kitchen.  It was odd, like he was angered by her assumption.  How else was she supposed to interpret his attitude? She settled on eating an apple and getting back to work.  

              The lack of ingredients made it difficult to think up a good dessert, but any dessert would have worked at that point.  She would have to settle for the idea of wowing him with a dessert another time.  The most curious part about making a dessert for this man was trying to figure out why she cared.  He wasn’t the nicest guy, and she was there to settle a debt, so what did it matter? It had to have been her love for baking that made her so consumed with the idea of making something special.  Afterall, she was in her dream kitchen, and not on a time restriction, she had the chance to make something special.  Maybe that was the silver lining in all of this.  Yeah the guy was a complete asshole, but she could really flex her culinary muscles in this kitchen.  She could perfect a couple techniques that could maybe lead to a better job one day.  Maybe it wasn’t all that bad.

              It was about half past four when Tawney finished cooking and baking.  She was exhausted and ready to call it a night, but she made sure to clean up and leave a detailed list on the counter.  As she was putting away her knives and tools, Ransom came back into the kitchen.  He looked around, inspecting the space.  The lasagna was sitting on the stove and a plate of cookies was sitting neatly on the counter.  He then turned to Tawney, as if waiting for her to explain herself.

“The lasagna just needs to be reheated, you can either cut a piece and put it in the microwave or reheat it in the oven.  It’s up to you.  I made a roast beef sandwich for you for lunch tomorrow.  It has swiss and caramelized onions and—"

“You’re not coming tomorrow?” he interrupted her.  Tawney managed the coolest face she could muster at the moment.

“You said three days a week. I made enough food that you shouldn’t need me tomorrow.” She explained to him.  He huffed and turned to look at the cookies. “These are lemon ricotta cookies. I figured there was leftover ricotta, and you had a lemon, and I couldn’t think of much else.  The glaze is lemon flavored with a little zest.” She described the dessert she had made.  Ransom reached out and snatched a cookie up from the plate, and he eyed her suspiciously as he bit into the soft cookie.  Tawney kept her gaze on him as well, trying to get a read on him.  It was like some kind of standoff, like he was trying to think of a reason to make her stay longer or come over the following day.  She was worried he may have hatched something in his mind, but when he looked down at the other half of the cookie in his hand and nodded to himself, she figured that was him expressing his satisfaction.

“Not bad.” He gave the closest thing to a compliment she was going to get.  Screw him, she knew those cookies were amazing.  

“The list is there on the counter.  Anything else?” her tone sounded triumphant, and why shouldn’t it?  She was proud of herself.  

“I guess not.” He sighed, “So Wednesday?” he confirmed.

“Yes, I’ll be here.  And in the meantime, please try to come up with a list of go-to recipes.” She politely requested.  Ransom dug into his pocket and pulled out his phone.  

“I still need your number.”

“Right,” she proceeded to give him her number and he shoved his phone back into his pocket.  

“I guess that’s it.” Ransom excused her, and she wasted no time in grabbing her bag and heading for the door.  She was beyond grateful to be leaving.  The thought of a shower and a full night of sleep sounded like heaven.  She hurried to the door, where Ransom opened it for her, and as soon as she stepped out, he closed it loudly behind her.  

              Tawney managed to stay awake on the drive home, probably because she kept her foot on the gas and the music blasting.  She felt like she could breathe again, like the air was fresher and clear once she left his place.  And she relished the fact that she wouldn’t have to go back the following day. She was hoping she wouldn’t hear from him, that he would just ask his maid to go shopping and that would be the end of it.  Her phone chimed in her pocket, and she was sure it was Kira making sure she was still alive and in one piece, but she wasn’t going to answer it until she got home.  Lesson learned.  Once the car was in park and she was only moments away from stepping into her muggy apartment, she reached into her pocket to retrieve her cell phone and read the text message.  It was from a new number, someone not in her contacts.  

You left some crumbs on the counter. Thought you were going to clean up after yourself.

              She could have thrown her phone out the window. Was this man hell bent on getting under her skin?  She didn’t even bother texting him back, there really was no need to.  He could be mad about it if he wanted to be, but she wasn’t going to waste her time with his nonsense, not while she was off the clock. But still, that message was another reminder of what she was getting herself into, and likely warning of what was yet to come.

“Asshole.” At least she didn’t have to hide her true feelings for him while she was out of his house.

Previous chapter here.

Next chapter here.

[the-irish-mayhem]

Happy Fosterson Week Day 2: Outside POV! This fic stemmed from my love of fake academia, but also my absolute desire to never write an academic paper ever again. So I found a bit of a middle ground. Fair warning: Both Jane and Thor have passed away in this. But never fear, their life together was long and happy.

A generation later, a budding social scientist tries to figure out Jane and Thor.

Read on AO3.

Legacy.

Post Thread Created: 1/23/01 Originally Posted: 1/23/01 Post Edited: 10/30/04

Edit 10/30/04: WOW, I did not anticipate that this post series would blow up the way it did! Thank you to all who shared this and supported me in this journey, and if you’re wondering, yes, my book is now out! You can get your copy of The Dynasty That Never Was: A Biography at your local retailer, the Bionic Press cloudstore, or at your local library.

Just a little bit of context: this was very early in my thesis writing process, back when Jane and Thor were only planned to encompass a single chapter of my book (ha!) and I was planning on writing a straight cultural analysis rather than the cultural analysis-slash-biography it became.

Okay, now on with the original post!

Good morning, fellow New Asgard Anthropologists. For any newcomers, my name is (future Dr.) Melanie LaComb, and the purpose of this blog has been to share my research on a little more of a ground level, record my process of writing my thesis, and talk/write through some problems and put them up for community collaboration. It’s also nice to be able to shed the academic discourse for just a few minutes and write informally. So much freedom! So many exclamations and I statements! Anyway, I’m writing this new post to talk my way through a bit of a new thorn in my research. The late Thor Odinson and Jane Foster.

A lot of academics have kind of scoffed at this problem of mine—they were two extremely famous individuals! Integral to so many galactically significant events! Of course there is absolute mega loads of information on them! There must be dozens of biographies and at least two definitive autobiographies for beings of such impressive historical stature!

This may shock you, but NO there actually isn’t. Or, I suppose in some ways there is but not in the ways that would be most useful for me. For Odinson, who grew up on Old Asgard, the destruction of the planet meant the destruction of many records kept from his years before the Greatest War Against Thanos. His years afterwards are better trackable, but hardly centralized and hardly the more personalized records I am (now trying to get at. Foster, known on Midgard as Dr. Jane Foster and colloquially throughout the galaxy as “Jane the Thinker” or “Jane the Brilliant,” is surprisingly easier to get a handle on. Her fame wasn’t contingent upon her marital status, and she was well-known in scientific circles even before the first battle of the War in the year 2012.

So the root of my problem is this: fitting this pair into my New Asgard diaspora research. Because they are….. how do I say this…. not fitting? With my methodology? (I went to the school of redundancy school, but F*ck I’ve been writing and writing and writing for like 8 hours today already and I’m not changing it so THERE.)

So most of my research deals with the formation of a New Asgardian identity, and it relies heavily upon the shared cultural experiences of the Dark Elf Invasion of Old Asgard and the death of Queen Frigga (an aside, but one of my classmates, Korla Majer, wrote a really stellar article on why the Dark Elf invasion should be included as one of the major battles of the Greatest War, and how the dismissal of the event by most historians actively hurts our understanding of galactic politics at the time and I absolutely 10/10 would recommend you go read it after you finish this blog post) as well as the battle for and destruction of New Asgard. For beings so long lived as us, Asgardians have proven that we can make our memories as short as we need to, and those two events seemed to create the largest basis for the new cultural identity forged on Earth. (For some obvious reasons, namely being the events that led to the planet being destroyed and necessitating the move to Midgard, but ANYWAY.)

But I can’t really deny Jane and Thor’s place in the New Asgardian identity because their effect on the masses is well-documented. There are libraries full of memes, old paper magazines with paparazzi photos paired with barely-real stories that say a lot more about the readership than they do the subjects, even some old FanFiction that I was able to dig up that is in some ways more helpful than all the academia from that time period combined XD

In my roundabout way, the problem I’m trying to sort through is this: HOW do I tackle the Jane/Thor chapter?

Because in my original outlining of my thesis, I had planned on their chapter being a quick summation of how they met just before the Greatest War’s beginning, courted through the course of it, and married at its conclusion. Then, I’d give some context on their influence on galactic politics (because despite what some people erroneously think, they actually were not the monarchs of New Asgard. They remained advisors only after Thor abdicated the throne and named Brunnhilde [of house Dragonfang, an extremely old and well-respected Old Asgardian family] his successor. There was the five year gap of the Blip where Thor was officially King, but it was hardly a politically significant time as for much of this period Thor was gone from New Asgard), how some political maneuvers affected the general New Asgardian populace, and then move back to the cultural study portion of things. But the more sources I gather about them, the more I think this chapter might need to be extended, or made into some… sub point of my main thesis.

Because while I said earlier that information on them is hard to find (because it is!!! You try making document requests to 17 different universities on 15 different planets!!!! Alfheim literally delivered what I asked for in a light spectrum file format!!!!!!!! Like WHAT!!!!!! AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH THIS????? HOW DO I CONVERT THIS INTO A PDF OR EVEN JUST MAKE IT COMPATIBLE WITH HOLOREADERS) it’s not always the quantity that’s the issue, it’s the content. I found myself longing to know more about who these people were and why they did the things they did. I’ve always found that I've done my best research when I follow my gut feelings, and research things that I’m passionate about. New Asgardian diaspora culture? I’m living it, baby! I’m very interested because my generation is the first generation to have never set foot on Asgard, and that’s something worth exploring!

And now here I am weirdly fascinated by an almost-king whose magical powers are pretty legendary who was banished and fell in love with a woman (who was 100% human at the time, by the way) whose scientific theories were so advanced that her own people thought she was a bit of a kook until all of her theories started getting proven right. From a non-academic perspective, that sounds like a freaking romance novel or epic movie or something. (Which, by the way, it was! There were at least 6 separate pieces of media [film, novel, television show] that were based on their story that I can find on record.) So on a personal level, here I am wondering why two people in the past got married in spite of wildly different life circumstances/why one of them abdicated a throne that was his birthright, and on an academic level A) trying to figure out how to fit this weird fascination into my thesis B) how did these two political and cultural figures shape the cultural landscape C) was their effect on the cultural landscape more or less significant than the two events which have been taking the most of my focus for the last year? D) how productive is it to even ask the question of more or less significance?

*screaming*

A few people have asked me if I should just switch my track to talk about how they affected Brunnhilde’s rule over New Asgard (which, in case you missed previous posts, Brunnhilde is a huge part of my current thesis as she essentially presided over what I’m terming “The New Asgardian Cultural Renaissance” and was absolutely critical to how things were shaped.) I’m hesitant to do this because this has actually already been done. I’ll stick JSTOR links in the endnotes, but Dr. Hamel Radley literally wrote this. “A King For the Ages: Brunnhilde’s First Three Decades.” Also, Dr. Leslie Storn’s “A King’s Court: Brunnhilde’s Advisory Council.” AND Dr. Jorseph Naulty’s “King Brunnhilde’s Surprising Advisory Council: Steady Hands, Scientists, Military Minds, and Galactic Politicking.” Look, there’s a LOT on Brunnhilde’s rule, and a LOT written on her advisory council. She was the ruling monarch, so it’s pretty par for the course.

But for how politically and culturally significant they seemed to be, there’s not really much specifically on Jane and Thor. Their cultural influences are given lip-service, and that’s it. (Again, Jane has been scientifically significant in a way no one has achieved since Albert Einstein, so in that way she’s more famous than her husband, but scientific notoriety isn’t the same as recognizing the fullness of her cultural contributions.)

I brought this stuff up to my advisor, and she said to keep pulling this thread because I’m on to something here, I just need to figure out what.

So my next research goal is to reach out to their descendents. They have a few children and grandchildren living, and hopefully at least one of them is willing to speak to me about them as people so I can get that portion of things nailed down before I go insane.

My almost-insanity probably bled into this post a little bit because it’s redundant as heck and you can bet your bum I am not spell-checking or proofreading. I need a break from that garbage. The life of a doctoral student continues.

Here’s to pulling the thread. Hopefully something useful unravels.

-(Future Dr.) Melanie LaComb

Reply posted by: Winsome34, 1/23/01 08:23

Melanie--this is a super interesting track, and your advisor was absolutely right when they said to follow it. I think it would be really interesting to read a sort of half-biography, half-cultural analysis piece. Would be really unique, and I’m sure any doctoral committee would find it an engaging topic.

Not sure if you’ve tried the Avengers Museum and Historical Library yet, but that might be a good place to go for some more primary sources, since Thor was a founding member and Jane was closely tied to them throughout their life. They have a really solid amazing librarians there who know the stacks backwards and forwards. I relied heavily on them when I was researching my last paper about racism against superheroes of color in the early 21st century.

Reply posted by: KorlaMajer, 1/23/01 10:22

Thanks for the shoutout boo ;) Your thesis is gonna be amazing!

ALSO: I have a light spectrum file converter from my dad. He does a ton of business with Alfheim and they are NOTORIOUS for sending incompatible LSFs.

Reply posted by: Chloe Durbin, 2/2/01 20:40

Hey! My mom is actually really tight with Thor and Jane’s oldest daughter Valkyrie. I think they knew each other from school or something back in the day, but she’s really awesome and basically my aunt, so if you need an intro or a number to call, I’ve got you! Just shoot me an email chdurbin02@naun.edu. She’s really approachable if you don’t mind walking up to a lady who is literally 6’8” and looks like she literally HAS killed a man with her bare hands. But super nice though!

Universal Reply posted by: Blogmaster, 5/3/01 06:27

Thank you everyone for the tips! It’s going to help so much! The Avengers Library has actually been majorly helpful (I never even thought to look there, honestly!) and Valkyrie has agreed to sit down to an interview (of sorts) so everything is seriously looking up. And THE LSF CONVERTER WORKED LIKE A CHARM.

[plague-of-insomnia]

🍋 🍌

Thank you for the ask 💕!!

🍋 Your descriptions are transportive

Wow... 😶☺️🥰 Thank you.

🍌I want to pick your brain about your creative process.

This will be a long post, FYI.

Chaos.

Haha, I’m joking.

Or am I?

Honestly, I’ve tried a lot of different things over the years, including outlining, and it never works for me bc my characters control the story. I really am just their interpreter, putting their lives and words onto virtual paper.

I’m a “character first” kind of writer (as opposed to a “plot first”), and that means I could probably tell you what any of the main cast of my stories ate for breakfast on the morning of their 8th birthday, but I couldn’t tell you what happens in the end, or sometimes even in the next chapter, bc I don’t know until I “get there.”

I’ve done my best to break my process down into 8 steps.

Step 1: The Idea

When I first get an idea, it usually comes to me in terms of a really vivid scene, like the chapter in Where Demons Hide called “Spark of Madness.” Usually that scene ends up in the beginning of the story but not normally the first chapter. Sometimes it’ll give me some story/plot to help me begin to flesh out the idea more, like in that example, where the main antagonist/conflict is introduced, though normally I have to work at it a bit more.

Step 2: Flesh Things Out

This is where I brainstorm, usually thinking about the main characters, who they are and what their flaws might be and what they might want to help me “find” the story. Sometimes I’ll make a character sheet (normally I don’t if I’m working alone bc I don’t have to). I do normally make a file for notes where I’ll jot down possible ideas about the characters and where the story might go.

I’ll be perfectly honest and say while this process does get me jump started, most of the notes I jot down I don’t end up using bc as the characters and story formulates, they both tend to change from my original ideas.

Step 3: Research

This can often be tied in with #2 and it’s not as if it just stops here. But as I often write about disabilities, mental and chronic illness, I like to make sure I can get as much info about the disease/condition I want to represent as possible so that I can:

represent it appropriately and accurately and

so I can find story/character details along the way.

For example, in my novel UnConventional, I was able to talk with a friend who is not only an orthotic user (and has been for years) but is an engineer of sorts so he understands very well *how* they work. By talking with him about various orthotics and his own struggles with them, I was able to find new plot and character details that help make the story more vivid and real and also allowed me to drive it in directions I may not have been able to otherwise.

Step 4: Write, Write, Write.

Two things you need to know about my writing process:

I usually do better when I write out of order.

I need to visualize the scene in my head to write it effectively. My “writers block” comes from not being able to see things in my head

My method isn’t the most efficient, but it’s how my brain works, and I’ve learned to go with it rather than fight it.

I brainstorm with myself (or a friend or my husband if possible) when necessary, or sometimes I’ll just close my eyes in a quiet place to allow myself to “see” the next series of scenes. Before I can forget the vivid movie I saw in my head, I do what I call a “scene sketch.”

I call it a “sketch,” bc just like a sketch is usually the foundation for a piece of art, mine are the basic structure for a completed scene. I do this also if I have a pretty solid idea but don’t have the time to write or I’m too tired or something like that, bc sketches allow me to simply sit down and flesh them out to create a completed scene.

They’re kind of like what an outline might be for other writers but less organized. Sketches are like a little treatment of a scene, including the basic setting, an idea of POV, and even dialog and body language, but jotted down really quickly without quotes or dialog tags. Sometimes there’ll be things like “maybe this happens” bc once I actually write the scene I’ll know if that idea feels right or not.

Here’s an example from a rejected chapter of WDH (I ended up going in a slightly different direction):

Seb answers when room service knocks. Bard is hovering, maybe bc he heard Seb’s scream. He sees the bad bite on Seb’s bare chest, sees he’s trembling and drowning more than ever, his eyes almost pleading for rescue. But when Bard asks if he’s OK he smiles and says yes, sir. Takes the food from the room service person and says he’s been ordered to wait on the guests personally. Shuts the door in Bard’s face.

Sometimes these sketches can be very detailed, other times it’s more of a general, quick jot of what happens or the scene I want to set. It depends on my brain and the scene.

I like to set goals based on scenes (or sometimes chapters), and do my best to complete a scene in its entirety if possible before I stop. If I can’t bc of time, then I’ll write a really brief sketch so I know what I need to do when I pick back up again so I won’t forget.

I’ve been writing and editing long enough that depending on the project I’m able to self-edit as I write. That doesn’t mean I don’t revise or edit later, but it saves some time overall as I am more aware of certain things than I used to be.

Because I write out of order, my process often entails being a puzzle master and piecing things together. Especially for something like Where Demons Hide, which has a lot of flashbacks, since I write those separately from the main story, I then have to figure out where they “belong.” I’d say 98% of the time for this fic I have already written the flashbacks before the chapter(s) they end up in.

My original serial fiction I write in a similar fashion, where I often will write scenes out of order and then assemble them into chapters later. So sometimes I’ll make a kind of “outline” of plot points that I need to cover. It’s not so much a fixed thing as a memory aid and place for me to put notes of ideas that might come to me that aren’t completely fleshed out.

Step 5: Rest

Once I’ve completed a chapter, I try to let it “rest” for at least a few days, if not longer. Especially if it was a long chapter or something that was difficult to write and took me awhile so I’ve been working on it for days or even weeks at a time.

I do this for three reasons:

“In process” brain lies often and says a scene/chapter sucks and I should just burn my computer/phone and take up accounting instead, and that the pacing is awful and it’s boring and lots of similar untruths.

Especially if the chapter took me a long time to finish because it’s lengthy or complicated or has difficult subject matter or whatever, it means there’s a good chance I’ve been working on it for days or even weeks and I’m SICK TO DEATH of it and never want to see it again, so taking a break from it is a welcome relief. It’s like taking a vacation after you’ve been working overtime for months. Sometimes I’ll do writing-adjacent things during this time, like reading, organizing/typing my notes, jotting down things I need to work on, reading/watching stuff that will energize and inspire me. Other times I work on another project or other scenes/chapters in the same project. Sometimes I’ll just take a break if I’m feeling burnt out or stressed.

I can come back to the project with fresh eyes, so that I can read it and see what things are actually good (suck it, in-process brain) or what things may still need work in a way I couldn’t do so soon after finishing.

Step 6: Revise

I revise in different ways depending on how much I feel something needs fixing. The first revision is my chance to see how the puzzle pieces knit together, work on scenes that I noticed aren’t pulling their weight or that need to be fleshed out. Sometimes this means I will completely, totally rewrite—and by that I mean “retype.” I open a fresh document, and referencing the original, start over. This allows me to streamline and better hone my language and ensure each scene is working hard.

This is something I do if I feel like a scene isn’t working as-is or I have a shit-ton of notes and comments on the first draft and it’s so chaotic I feel like I can’t focus anymore. This is especially helpful for dialog.

Other times the revisions are less drastic. Sometimes I means moving a scene around or deleting one that isn’t working. Sometimes it means finding all the times I’ve repeated the same word and fixing that, or fixing places where I’ve used the same sentence type too often.

Revision can be a very long process, depending on the quality of the first draft and what my goal is. If it’s just fan fic I’m doing for fun, then I don’t obsess too much: usually 1-2 read throughs and adjustments are OK. If it’s something I’m going to submit for publication, then that’s a different story bc the quality of the edit of your submitted draft makes a good impression (or a bad one).

Step 7: Beta Reader

If I have one, which I don’t always, then this is where I’ll send it to them. Usually what I want in a beta reader isn’t stuff like proof or copy editing, but rather “big picture” stuff. I want them to tell me: “this scene isn’t working” or “this feels contrived” or “I don’t like the main character.”

It can be frustrating and disheartening to get feedback that means I have to go back and do some major revising, but that’s why they’re there, bc often it’s either things I couldn’t see bc I’m too close to the story, or stuff I was in denial about (lol). Listening to my betas always leads to a better draft.

Step 8: Proofreading/Copyediting

The last step. I’ve done this professionally so I’m usually pretty good at finding typos and inconsistencies myself, but some people will hire someone like me to do that work bc they don’t have the skill or the time. Even if it’s “just for fun,” proofing is important bc it affects readability, and it’s embarrassing to me if I post something with glaring proof errors 😶.

~~~Anyway, that is roughly how my brain works. I don’t know if this is what you were expecting or wanting, but here it is!

[spunkycatninja]

My thoughts on editing

So I thought, after some prodding from a friend, that I would do a blog on editing since people might have questions who are interested in editing (for games, books, etc.). I've had experience editing a text based game and a full length novel as well as doing a lot of proofreading and creating reading/writing curriculum for the English department I work for. [Yes, I just ended my sentence with a preposition, and no, I don't care. ;) ] I also went to a university and earned a degree in English Language Learning, so I studied grammar, syntax, and all that other good stuff as well as world literature. Did I put you to sleep yet? No? Good. Now that you know my qualifications and that I'm not pulling things out of thin air, let's get on with it, yes?  

There are some things to keep in mind when you decide you want to edit a game or book for someone.  I won't (and can't, quite frankly) go over every single thing, but I feel the list below mentions the 5 most important “rules” to keep in mind.

#1: Know that you won't catch every single thing. I'm really good at what I do. Really, I am. I have people with PhD's asking me to go over their work to make sure everything is correct because I'm known to have an eagle eye for this sort of thing. Even with all the schooling I've had, and even though I am very meticulous, there are bound to be errors that get missed. It happens. It's ok. Nobody is perfect. Take a breath. Come to terms with that. (Something I need to keep reminding myself about as well.) If you notice that you missed a lot, try to do better next time. Maybe do some grammar review, and most importantly, read s-l-o-w-l-y.

#2: Keep in mind that the text you are working on is not yours. In other words, don't get bent out of shape if someone doesn't want to change what they have after you've offered your fixes and suggestions. As the author, they have the right to shape their creation however they please, so even if you have solid, legitimate reasons for offering a solution for a mistake/blunder/oversight/horrific abomination, they don't have to implement it even if they really should. Again, take a deep breath and know that this does not reflect poorly on you.

#3: Know your grammar. Yep, I said it. Learn grammar, dammit. It's important. It's essential to know the difference between:

A) Let's eat Grandma!

and

B) Let's eat, Grandma!

In one of those, you're a nasty cannibal that nobody wants anything to do with (especially Grams). In the other, you're grandma's favorite who will inherit everything for taking her out for a lovely meal. ;)

So many times I see people say, “Just put a comma where you'd breathe. You don't need to know grammar.” You know who says that? People who don't want to learn grammar or new teachers who've been told to tell students that statement as a way to get their point across. I can't tell you, as someone who teaches this stuff, how quickly that backfires—which is why only new/inexperienced teachers tell their students that (usually because they aren't prepared to explain). Grammar can shape the reader's experience, so knowing what to and how to punctuate can be a very powerful tool.

#4: Know when to correct and when to let it stand. But wait! Didn't I just say “know your grammar?” What is going on here? Am I pulling a fast one? No, not really. Creative writing is different than academic writing. There will be times when there is a change in beat/tone or a statement really needs to stand out, so an “extra” comma or a fragment may be perfectly legitimate. In other words, you have to take context into account when editing. This is super important! Don't just blindly correct every run-on, fragment, and comma splice. Read it. Then read it again. Look around it. Does it make sense as it is? What meaning is conveyed when it's punctuated like that? Is this getting the author's point/voice across? These are all very important questions to ask when looking at a text.

#5: Give positive feedback too, not just constructive criticism. Writers like to know what works and what doesn't for their reader. You are not just a living breathing auto-correct (unless that is what you and the author agreed on). So if you are enjoying something, don't just chuckle to yourself and move on. Make a note of it. Tell the writer. Let them know what really tickled your fancy. Moreover, they appreciate if you catch continuity errors, and while a few may disagree with this next part, I would also add that if a different perspective can be offered on what is happening, you might want to speak up. Let me clarify that last part with an example because that last statement was kind of vague.

So let's say you are editing a game where the player can be a man, woman, non-binary, etc., and the player can be whatever sexuality they desire. Said author has the player character always ogling a female companion even though the player created a gay male, straight female, or asexual character. If you are editing this game, and you see this, I would assert that you should definitely bring this to the author's attention. Because let's be real, many players would have a problem with this if this cropped up and this type of behavior did not fit their character. What the author does after that is up to them (see #2 for details).  

Are you still here? Wow! That's awesome! Thanks for reading my short novel. I hope this helps anyone who has questions about editing. Keep in mind that this is just my opinion on editing. I'm sure there are others out there who don't necessarily agree with everything I've said. But if you were thinking about getting into editing, I hope I've given you some place to start with. (Oh look! I ended with another preposition again! Oh, the horror!)

[ibelieveinahappilyeverafter]

Phanniemay 2018 - Day 3

Yes, yes, I know Phanniemay is over, but I wanted to at least post the prompts I did get through. I had this grand plan to finish and post them all the last week of May, but then things got crazy, I needed major eye surgery, and I’m only just now being able to stare at my screen long enough to be able to proofread and edit my things. It’s been a long few days, y’all. Still, I hope you enjoy what I do have!

Prompt: Ghost Tech

Alternate Universe: Post show, no Phantom Planet, Trio age ~17

Rating: G+

Author Notes: It’s so fun playing with Tucker’s point of view, honestly. I love it.

Summary: Tucker knows that he isn’t the best and brightest out there, but he’s starting to understand just how big a gap there is between where he is and where he needs to be. There’s only one person that can help him, but man, it couldn’t be anyone else?

Don’t forget I’m doing more cool things on my Patreon all the time! I also have a Ko-Fi so consider buying me a coffee if you can’t pledge!

Click here to see the other stories I’ve done for Phanniemay this month.

::

“Yes, Danny, those are all the notes you need for the final tomorrow. I told you, I recorded the lectures, too. Although you probably won’t listen to them.”

“No one ever listens to the recorded lectures!” Letting Danny’s complaints wash over him, Tucker sighed softly and managed a bit of a smile. He’d take a complaining Danny over an unmoving one any day. “I miss three days of school and suddenly they think I’m going to go from C’s and B’s to A’s.”

“I think Lancer just wants you to pass, if it helps. He gave me about twenty sheets of notes to give to you when I told him I was collecting your homework.” Three days. Three days of Danny holed up at home and his parents just as unsure as them because they weren’t- They were scientists and Tucker and Sam were kids. None of them were doctors. “How are you doing?”

“Same as when you asked ten minutes ago, buddy. I’m fine, honestly. I think the last of it is finally clearing up.” The Fentons had figured it was some ghost version of the flu virus, but Tucker was going to bet it was something else considering how Danny had been throwing up ectoplasm at some points and he was burning up- He had ice powers and his fever had been out of control. “Where are you, anyways? The wind is going crazy on your end.”

“Just walking to that parts store to fix up the thermos again,” Tucker lied easily, trying to push the memories away. He never wanted to think on that time again - him, Danny, and Sam all curled up in a freezing cold shower, Danny shaking to pieces between them and sobbing roughly. “I wanted to fiddle with my PDA a bit more, too. Sam’s coming by later-”

“Ugh, yes, she’ll be here in half an hour.” Even through the groaning, Tucker could tell Danny was grinning. “And you need to chill out on all that tech stuff. It wasn’t your fault and you know it.”

“Sam should have her own notes if mine aren’t making sense. I’ll call you after I’m done, okay?” Not his fault. Yeah, right. He was supposed to be- When his tech failed, then what good was he?

“Yeah, okay. And that ghost getting out wasn’t your fault, Tuck. Me getting sick wasn’t your fault, either. Honestly, and you two call me hero-complexed.”

“Later, buddy,” Tucker laughed, hanging up the phone and letting his smile dropped as he stopped in front of the gates that blocked the path up to a ridiculously huge mansion. “Right. Now or never then, huh?”

Swallowing down his fear, which was pretty damn great, Tucker pressed the call button and nervously cleared his throat when he was asked to identify himself. “Uh, hi, Mr. Masters Plasmius sir? I, um- You probably don’t know me, but I’m a friend of Danny’s. Tucker Foley?”

There was a sharp, loud buzz before the gates opened rather dramatically, Tucker staring before making a face. “I had hoped we could just exchange phone numbers or something.” The gates started to close and Tucker swore before quickly running through them, near losing his shirt in the process. “Okay! Thank you! For, uh, seeing me, I guess?”

Nothing was coming up out of the ground and shooting at him, at least, and Plasmius wasn’t appearing to break his and Danny’s new truce and kidnap Tucker and use him as a bargaining chip, so that was good! That- That was very good.

Getting to the front door after a walk up a drive that was long enough to make Tucker regret every single choice in his life, he swallowed all of his fear and pride and gave a light, quiet knock. The door opened near at once.

“Ah, Mr. Foley. To what do I owe the pleasure of conversing with one of Daniel’s idiosyncratic acquaintances?” Okay, Tucker understood all of those words separately. Maybe.

“Hey, Mr. Masters Plasmius sir.” Being polite never hurt, right? At least Tucker wasn’t calling him Fruitloop. Danny would have found it great, but Danny wasn’t here to protect him from being killed. “I, uh, I had a question I kind of wanted to ask you?”

“How unfortunate for you that I seem to be all out of answers. Do make sure the gates shut on your way out.” Seeing the door start to close, Tucker took a page from Danny’s book and impulsively jumped forward to slip inside before it fully shut, flashing Plasmius a weak grin. “Would you rather the police escort you out?”

“Please, we both know I have at least three things on me that could revert you back to your ghost form.” Okay, Tucker, just breathe in and out and don’t think about the fact that he was threatening Plasmius.

“Daniel and his friends,” Plasmius muttered dryly, door shutting with a snap. “Speak quickly. I might be in a truce with Daniel, but that does not meant I am here to play mentor to his little friends.”

“Right.” Tucker was starting to see what Danny meant about punching Plasmius when spending longer than ten seconds around him. “I want to ask if you would teach me more about building and using ghost hunting technology.”

“Excuse me.” Yeah, wow, no, that was not a good look Tucker was getting right then. Okay. Right. Deep breath. Doing this for Danny. Danny who would do the same thing if their situations were reversed - and probably more. Ugh. Okay. Right.

“Please teach me more about building and using ghost weapons. Everything you’d be willing to teach me.” Yeah, wow, no, the look got worse. “This isn’t a joke or a ploy to get more information, I swear. It’s just- I need to know.”

“And just why, Mr. Foley, do you need to know these things? As far as I was aware you do not have any ghost powers to worry about. Your family is not in the business of hunting or detaining ghosts. You have no part in this world-”

“Fuck you.” The words slipped out before he could stop them, Tucker horrified when Plasmius’ eyes flashed red.

“Excuse me.” Okay, right, here was where he begged for forgiveness.

“I said fuck. You.” Except he had been spending too much time around his outspoken friends and this was… He couldn’t back down from this. “You can’t say this isn’t my world when I haven’t been out there every night since I was fourteen helping my best friend defend the town from monsters.”

“If you truly think ghosts are monsters-” Tucker didn’t even let him finish, just talking louder and bolder.

“They are when they attack my town and everyone in it just for fun! I was pulled into this fight and maybe I didn’t have to join it, but I sure as hell can’t leave it. I need to learn more about this technology and how to use it. I can’t just stand by and pretend this is all some game or afterschool activity when my friend could die any day!”

“He’s already dead.” It felt like the air had been sucked out of the room and it took everything Tucker had to not shake himself to pieces. “Whatever life Daniel had ended the moment he stepped through that portal. He may not be completely dead, but who he was certainly died.”

“Bullshit.” The red eyes weren’t so scary anymore. Not when he remembered what had just almost happened because he - because Tucker - wasn’t good enough. “And if it is true, then my life ended with his and I’m just as big a part of this as he is.”

“Are you really?” Drawing himself up, Tucker nodded as strong as he could. He wasn’t scared. Not when he knew that this might be the only way to get stronger.

“I can’t fight. I can’t do what Danny does, but I will run myself to the ground helping him as best I can. Danny’s not just my best friend. He’s- He’s my brother. We’ve been by each other’s sides since we were five. I’m not leaving him now. I can’t fight, but I can do other things. I’m good with tech, but I’m not good enough. I need to get better.”

“So you come to me. Why not go to Daniel’s parents? They have the technology as well - in fact, I rather believe that’s where you’ve been getting your own equipment these days.”

“Used to. I build everything myself now.” If Tucker was any crazier, then he might have admitted that he saw pride in Plasmius’ eyes. “I need to get better. Danny’s strong, but there are stronger things out there. You wouldn’t have made a truce with him if there wasn’t.”

“Mm.” Plasmius stared at him for a second more before turning and walking away, Tucker feeling every ounce of hope jerked out of him. “You could have merely studied their blueprints.”

“I did. I need to get better and you know how ghosts work. They don’t, yet.” Tucker watched Plasmius not even stop as he glanced back to him.

“Well? I’ll only waste so much of my time with this venture, Mr. Foley.” Wait- That was- Oh, holy shit.

“Yes sir, Mr. Masters Plasmius sir.” Tucker was running after him at once and while he still had the feeling he was about to be stabbed in the back, he at least knew he would learn something while he was there. Maybe this was what interns felt like for supervillains. Hm. That actually seemed rather accurate. “I can handle whatever you throw at me.”

“We’ll see.” Yes, he would.

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Kismet {2}

Henry Cavill x Famous OFC Aliya Taylor

Warning: Plot Heavy, Slow Burn, Mild Cursing, Flirtation

Words: 4.9k

Summary: Aliya is a singer turned model turned actress. Since she was fifteen, she’s been creating her empire in the entertainment world. As the daughter of a famous fashion model/designer and Hollywood director, you’d think life is easy for her, but her past has been anything but easy. Due to past trauma, she’s forever changed and no longer trusts any man that is not in her family and a select few in her team. She’s sworn off love and serious relationships and has planned never to fall again, but love isn’t something that can be planned. It just happens when it’s meant to. Can Aliya outrun a love that seems hellbent on holding tight to her, a love that is Kismet?

Note: I did something a little different this chapter with POVs. You’ll see it toward the end. Let me know if it was confusing or if you guys liked it. Also there are Google Translations in text. If they are wrong, I apologize. I hope you enjoy this. ❤️❤️

If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!! 😘  As always, thank you so much for reading. ❤️❤️

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

Previous Chapters: 1 | 

-Henry-

 He could feel the eyes of those around him. He’d been recognized. You’d think that years of being in the industry, he’d be immune to the stares, whispers, and not so discreet pictures of him being taken. He was not. It was always like the first time. It was difficult for him not to feel self-conscious about it either. Doing a once over of the restaurant, he made a mental note of where everyone who looked suspicious was. Most of them looked away when they saw him looking around, but there were a few bold ones who kept looking and even one or two extra bold who tried to make eye contact while giving the classic seductress lip bite. When that happened, he usually gave a quick, polite nod before looking away, never to look back.

 Tonight was no different, except he couldn’t stop thinking about one woman—you. It wasn’t enough that he’d dreamt of you last night in ways that were unexpected seeing how he’d just unofficially met you. He couldn’t explain how he felt. It was strange and new. He’d met beautiful women before, women that were drop dead gorgeous with an equally amazing and impressive body. The physical aspects of you were not what was keeping him enthralled. It was something else, something he saw in your eyes when he held you, something his body felt once he touched your skin, something his heartfelt when you spoke. It was unexplainable at this time, but just because he couldn’t explain it didn’t mean he couldn’t dwell on the feeling.

“Dude, I’ve been calling and texting you all night. What the hell?”

Jean, had his arms stretched out nonverbally, asking, “what the hell?”

 “You have?”

 “Yeah. Pick up your phone,” Jean finished.

 “I didn’t know. I don’t have my phone,” he replied as he leaned back. The eyes of his three friends dropped to the table where your phone was. It looked identical to his.

 “It’s right there, man,” William said, pointing to it.

 “This isn’t mine.”

 “Uh, it looks like yours,” Jameson informed.

 “Yeah, but it’s not.”

 They all looked confused. Stifling his laughter, he began explaining to them. He knew they were probably going to lose their minds.

 “Yesterday, I had a meeting about Witcher, so I’m coming off the elevator on my phone, and I run smack into Aliya Taylor.”

 The eyes of the gents around him widened as they sat up more alert.

 “Thee Aliya Taylor?” Nodding his answer to Jameson, he gulped his Guinness before continuing.

 “She almost falls over, so my reflexes kick in, and I catch her and set her upright. She recovers and gets on the elevator. I pick up what I thought was my phone, but I just spent the last night realizing that this is not my phone,” he finished.

 The three of them sat there silently, each thinking over the bit of news he’d just shared. Saying it out loud, it sounded like a plot from a romcom. It was absolutely ridiculous. Things like these never happen in real life.

 “So, you have Aliya Taylor’s phone.”

 “I have Aliya Taylor’s phone, and she has mine,” he laid out.

 Jameson, his oldest friend, slid back with a shocked expression on his face. “Wow. That’s bonkers.”

 Releasing a chuckle, he nodded in agreement.

 “So, what have you doing on her phone?”

 He knew that was going to be William’s next question. He could also guess another one of his questions was going to be about your pictures.

 “What you would find on a typical woman’s phone,” he answered.

 “So, selfies, nudes, clothes, and makeup?”

 The laughter around the table filled the space around them, giving him enough of a reprieve to drink down some more of his Guinness.

 “Not sure about the nudes. I saw a half nude then stopped. I felt weird like I was violating her privacy.”

 “The better question is, what’s on your phone, mate?” That was when he made a face knowing full well what might be on his phone.

 “There might be a few nudes,” he admitted. His friends laughed again, but he didn’t find it funny at all. “Oh Christ, I hope she hasn’t seen them.”

 “Mate, Aliya Taylor could be checking out your knob right now and fancying what she sees,” Jean teased.

 “Shut up. She hasn’t called. I’m sure she knows by now that it’s not her phone,” he audibly thought.

 “Just like you know. Call her,” Jameson urged.

 He sat there for a few moments thinking about if that were the right move rather than a text. His friends could see his hesitation. So passed the next five or so minutes with them trying to convince him a call was the best option. With a unanimous decision, he picked up the phone as his friends squeezed in to look.

 “Aw, flowers how adorable,” William teased. He ignored their laughter and dialed his number. He had no idea if you’d pick up or not.

 The phone rang three times, and just when he thought you weren’t going to pick up, he heard your voice. It was soft and hesitant.

 “Hello?”

 Silence. His eyed automatically widened as he froze. His friends around him motioned to him, telling him to speak. That was when his brain restarted.

 “Yes, hi. This is Henry—Cavill. I bumped into you; we bumped into each other yesterday.”

 “Right, yes,” you confirmed in a professional voice. He wondered if you were slightly freaking out as much as he was on the inside. If you were, you sounded nothing but calm and collected.

 “It looks like I might have your phone,” he breached.

 “And I might have yours.”

 “It seems that way.”

 The silence stretched again, but it wasn’t entirely uncomfortable.

 “Would you like to make a plan to exchange them back? Maybe coffee tomorrow, or brunch?”

 His mouth said it before his brain caught it. Once it was out, he cringed. He sounded sleazy with a touch of desperate. It was not a good look either way. Your silence told him you thought the same thing.

 “Are you asking me out or to meet up to get your phone back?”

 It was a good question, one he didn’t have enough confidence to answer.

 “I can’t tomorrow anyway. I’m actually in London right now working. I won’t be back in LA for about a week and a half,” you informed.

 “Oh, wow.”

 “Yeah. I’m sorry for the inconvenience. If you like, I can have my assistant mail it to you express. You should get it by tomorrow night,” you suggested.

 “I would rather exchange hand to hand. My phone has a lot of very personal stuff on it.”

 “As does mine,” you added.

 “I would suspect so. The most secure thing would be when you return to LA,” he countered.

 “Can you go without a phone for that long?”

��A smile spread across his face. “I’ll be using yours.”

 Your laughter was loud and unexpected. He couldn’t help but smile wider because of it. He wondered what you looked like while you laughed. Catching a glimpse of his friends’ faces, he wiped the smile off his face and shook the thought away.

 “Feel free to use mine,” he added.

 “And is someone important calls like Spielberg or a Francesca?”

 That was when he knew you’d looked in his phone. He wasn’t angry. He was filled with something else—regret maybe. Regret that you’d seen things that he couldn’t explain then and there or beforehand. His friends all had the same look on their faces. It was one that said he’d been caught.

 “If it’s Spielberg, yes, answer on the first ring.”

 Again, you laughed. You were good for his ego; he thought to himself before continuing.

 “Francesca, no need to answer, we have nothing to talk about.” It was the truth. “What about if it’s Tyra Banks or Liam or Jesse. Do I answer?”

 The silence stretched for several long moments. He wondered if you would answer, and his friends looked equally interested. What seemed like a long while later, he heard you speak again.

 “Tyra Banks answer at your own risk, she’ll pump you for info until you’re blue in the face. If it’s Liam or Jesse, if I were you, I wouldn’t. They have strong jealous tendencies.”

 The answer was unexpected, and it was an answer he didn’t quite like. “Who doesn’t these days,” he stated. Neither of you spoke for a few moments after.

 “So, a week and a half?”

 “Sounds like a date,” he responded. You giggled. He liked the sound of it.

 “Date?”

 “Yes, a date,” he confirmed.

 “I never said anything about a date.”

 “I know, but I also know there was some sort of spark between us yesterday, and I know you felt it too.”

 Again you were quiet. Yeah, it was bold, but he knew that he wouldn’t get any answers to the multitude of questions he had without some bold move forward.

 “You’ll have your phone back in a week and a half. Goodbye, Henry,” you said before you ended the call.

 Without knowing he’d been holding it, he released his breath and sat back in his seat.

 “Jeez, she’s a firecracker,” Jameson professed.

 That’s the least of it, he thought.

 ~~~~~~~

-Aliya-

 Your time in London was hectic. You were all over the place. Your photoshoots took you all over the English countryside. You frolicked in green pastures, posed on trees, in trees. You rode horses and pretended to play cricket. You posed with English roses and having afternoon tea all the while in the latest in fashion, and all dolled up in makeup. When your days began at five in the morning, they didn’t end until ten at night. If they began at night, you were not back in your hotel room until six in the morning.

 On the days your modeling responsibilities didn’t rule your schedule you worked within your company. You were still in the midst of putting out your first magazine that you hoped would be up to par with Vogue or Bazaar. The goal was to do what they did, just better, and geared for a more ethnic audience, but you were now working on ways to be a bit inclusive—but not much. You wanted black and brown people to feel included, seen, represented, and heard. It was a lot of work, but you knew it would be worth it. Your launch was scheduled for a few months from now, and your excitement was reaching epic proportions with each passing day.

 This project was your baby, you put sweat, blood, tears, sleepless nights, and everything ounce of your energy into it. You sometimes neglected having a life for it, and that included dating. It was what you told yourself was the reason for your lack of dating. At the surface, it sufficed, but deep down, you knew you were full of shit. No one else had to know that, though. All anyone needed to know was that you liked to work, and you were damn good at everything you did. You made sure of it.

 With your current phone situation, you used Henry’s phone to do everything. No one recognized the number, and when they saw it, they always wanted to question you on what was going on. You were thankful that whoever you called didn’t have his number, or else the caller ID would say his name whenever you called, then you’d have a lot of explaining to do.

 On your fourth day in London, you were sitting in the tub soaking after a long day when his phone went off with a notification signifying a text. When you looked at it, you couldn’t help but smile.

 MSG Your Phone: Travis and Jesse have called three times so far. I haven’t answered, but you have an overflow of messages and voicemails.

 You smiled and wondered if he was fishing for details. When you reread the message, you tried to pick up on any hint of jealousy. There was none.

 MSG Henry’s Phone: Francesca and Abby haven’t called, but the messages are overflowing. Would you like me to forward them?

 After barely waiting a minute, another message came in.

 MSG Your Phone: No. As I said, we have nothing to talk about. Would you like me to forward your voicemails?

 Again you smiled. He was fishing.

 MSG Henry’s Phone: Nah. They can wait.

 You had to giggle. You didn’t plan on giving him not one detail.

 MSG Your Phone: How is London treating you?

MSG Henry’s Phone: It’s fine.

MSG Your Phone: Did the sun come out for you?

MSG Henry’s Phone: Nope. Raining cats and dogs.

 You sank deeper into the tub and took up the glass of wine you had rested at the side. After a decent sip, you placed the wine glass back and sighed.

 MSG Your Phone: Glad to know mother nature treats you just as how she treats me.

MSG Henry’s Phone: Are you in London a lot?

MSG Your Phone: I mainly live in London. I come to LA for work but am spending more and more time here for work, or on location.

 The thought popped into your head of where he lives. You wondered if you’d passed it. As soon as you began thinking about it, you pushed the thoughts out of your head.

 MSG Henry’s Phone: Oh, so you’re a Brit. Interesting.

 It was a stupid reply. Duh, he was a Brit, the accent in interviews you’d watched since bumping into him made it a dead giveaway. It was the only thing you could think of.

 MSG Your Phone: What is that interesting?

MSG Henry’s Phone: I completely missed your accent.

 It wasn’t a lie.

 MSG Your Phone: You were rather distracted.

 You couldn’t help but giggle again. It was adorable how confidant he was. This was not the first display of it. Deciding to throw him off, you shot your final text.

 MSG Henry’s Phone: Gotta run, goodbye Henry.

 Instead of putting the phone down, you reread the messages. With each message, you found yourself smiling wider and wider until you noted a giddy feeling rushing through you. Nipping it in the bud, you put the phone down and closed your eyes, deciding to focus only on relaxing. Unfortunately, the two hemispheres of your brain weren’t in agreement. One wanted Henry, the other wanted relaxation.

Two days of working and forcing yourself to focus on work and everything related to it found you drifting onto the side of overstressed and worked. Any normal human would do everything to alleviate the discomfort, but you, you did everything in your power to prolong it. You knew what the root of it was, and you didn’t want to entertain any parts of your growing curiosity about him. Though you didn’t want to entertain your thoughts about him, you found yourself two days later sitting on your hotel room balcony with a glass of wine thinking of no other but him.

 MSG Henry’s Phone: Why don’t you have a lock code on your phone?

As you waited, you sipped from your glass and stared out to the London Eye. It was one of your favorite parts of the city. Sometimes at night, you liked to ride it and just think about your life. You especially liked having it stop at the top. It gave you such a beautiful view of the city and the lights it always took your breath away.

 <With Henry>

 He heard the chime of the phone in the next room. He turned the flame on the stove down to low, so the sauce he had simmering wouldn’t thicken too quickly and made his way to his bedroom for the phone on the nightstand. When he took it up, his smile was wide when he saw his number and the name he’d designated himself as highlighted.  When he opened it and read the message, he couldn’t stop the victory dance that he did around his two-bedroom home that went on for much longer than he’d ever admit to.

 When he stopped, he was back in the kitchen, hovered over the counter.

 MSG Your Phone: What do I need a code for?

 As he anxiously waited for your reply, he put the phone on the counter several inches from him. He hoped this would stop him from sending message after message. When he realized that it wasn’t enough, his idle hands still wanted work, so he went back to stirring his pot.

 <With Aliya>

 His reply had you wrinkling your nose. He sounded so flippant about it.

 MSG Henry’s Phone: Well, for one, you’re an actor with a lot of private high secret info regarding movies on your phone. Anything can get leaked. For two, this is the twenty-first century, and the average person has at least six pieces of incriminating material on their phones. That incriminating material can end up on TMZ or US Weekly, hell every Perez Hilton.

 You couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of that. This was logic to you, logic you couldn’t believe no one else had.

 <With Henry>

 He nearly laughed out loud from your message. This was definitely a concern of someone whose star of fame was up there in the stratosphere. He didn’t consider his fame to be anywhere near that high. Yeah, he had fans that ventured on highly over spirited, but on the ever swinging pendulum of fame, he was somewhere a few notches past middle ground. He was glad for it. Already he found his level of fame to be somewhat invasive and debilitating. He could not imagine dealing with your level of fame.

 MSG Your Phone: I’m not nearly important enough for anyone to want to hack into my phone to blast info. Also, yes, this is the twenty-first century, but I am anything but the average man. That doesn’t apply to me.

 <With Aliya>

 You liked his reply. It said a lot about him but also left so many things hidden, things you absolutely wanted to know more about.

 MSG Henry’s Phone: So, there is nothing on your phone that you wouldn’t want a stranger, me seeing?

 You thought back to his pictures and the women in his text history and wondered how he would respond. This time you finished your wine with the raise of your hand and poured the remaining contents of the bottle into it as you waited for his reply.

  <With Henry>

 Immediately his mind went to his suggestive nudes and the messages with Abby and Francesca. Those were the only two things he worried about.

MSG Your Phone: Yes, there are things I wouldn’t want you seeing. A stranger, I don’t really care.

 Your message came in almost immediately.

 MSG Henry’s Phone: What makes me so different? I am a stranger.

 Smiling, he turned off the fire, took up the saucepan and poured the caramelized onion, garlic, butter, and wine sauce over his perfectly prepared steak. After putting the saucepan in the sink for washing later, he walked to the dining table with his steak and potatoes dish. He was still living on a high protein diet to keep himself in Witcher shape.

 MSG Your Phone: So I’m a stranger?

MSG Your Phone: Yes. I don’t know you.

 He thought about your words for a few moments as he sliced a piece of his steak to pop into his mouth. As he chewed, he knew the right response.

 MSG Your Phone: Do you want to know me?

  <With Aliya>

 It was bold as hell. You couldn’t believe the words as you reread them for the fourth time. What the hell did you say to that? What did he expect you to say? What did you want to say? The only answer that fits every question was you didn’t know.

 MSG Your Phone: Something easier then. Why don’t you have a code on your phone?

 Sighing out in relief, you took a few gulps of your wine.

 MSG Henry’s Phone: I did, I was in the process of changing it when I bumped into you and never completed it, so both were void.

MSG Your Phone: Oh, so it was fate then.

 You almost rolled your eyes into the back of your head so far they got stuck.

 MSG Henry’s Phone: Fate?

MSG Your Phone: Yes, fate that we bumped into each other at the exact moment you took the code off your phone and then happened to have lost your phone to me. Fate that gave me ten days to peruse it if I chose to. Fate that gave me ten days to make a plan.

 Your smile was widening every second that ticked by. The man was charismatic.

 MSG Henry’s Phone: A plan? To what exactly?

  <With Henry>

 His smile was big. This was going just as he hoped. The only thing left for him to do was take it there.

 MSG Your Phone: To make you mine.

 He wished he could see your face right now.

  <With Aliya>

 Gasping for air, you continued to cough. The wine was still trapped in your windpipe. As you struggled for air, you tried to calm your panic. After several moments you found yourself able to catch a full breath.

 “Holy shit,” you finally gasped. The man was bold as hell for real. You read the message again, and again each time the shock remained. You couldn’t believe he actually said that. A flirtatious feeling washed over you, and you decided to run with it.

 MSG Henry’s Phone: You can’t make something or someone a possession that doesn’t want to be possessed.

MSG Your Phone: I think you want to be possessed.

 Scoffing, you shook your head and stared at the London Eye again and looked over the lights of the city.

 MSG Henry’s Phone: Are you sure?

 As soon as you sent the message, his phone chimed again, except this wasn’t a message from him. It was from Abby. Almost instantly, a sour taste filled your mouth, and your face reflected that. It was like a slap to your face telling you to wake the hell up and come back to reality. That was when your bitch face came out to play.

 MSG Your Phone: Pretty sure, but you tell me.

MSG Henry’s Phone: You should call Abby. She’s sent you fourteen messages today, most recent right now. Goodbye, Henry.

 Closing out messages, you gently tossed his phone onto the small table on the balcony, grabbed your glass, and looked out over the city.

 For the next four days, any message he sent you ignored. The one thought that kept racing through your head was that there were currently two women that were continually texting him. Though you didn’t know the specifics of why the whole situation screamed messy. You didn’t do messy; you didn’t do love triangles or squares, you didn’t do anything that screamed complicated or distracting. You didn’t care how attracted you were to him. You wouldn’t compromise your ideals for anyone—not again.

When he changed his tactics from texting to calling, you ignored those too. You were tempted to answer, and on several occasions, you almost did until your stubbornness triumphed. You were victorious until one night in your room as you soaked in the tub after another long day. His phone rang loudly. Somehow you knew it was him. You didn’t know how, but you knew. When you reached for it and glanced at the screen, you loudly groaned as your suspicions proved correct. Closing your eyes, you tried to decide on if you’d answer or not.

 “Hello?”

 “Hi.” His voice sounded so damn good, and by the way, your belly flipped, you knew it agreed.

 “Hey,” you nonchalantly replied.

 “Did I catch you at a bad time?”

 “Uh, not really. Not unless you call catching me in the bath a bad time,” you teased.

 “Oh. I’m sorry,” Henry quickly stammered.

 “It’s fine. How can I help you?”

 Yeah, it was slightly cold, but maybe cold was the right way to be. “Hello? Henry?”

 You heard him release a puff of breath. You could imagine what it smelled like. You couldn’t picture it.

 “Whew, this is the second time I’ve heard you say my name, and it had the same effect as the first time.”

 Your belly again flipped. It was becoming a normal reaction to his words.

 “What was the effect of the first time?”

 He didn’t speak immediately, and after a minute of silence, you wondered if he would.

 “So I’m about two weeks away from finishing reshoots and prep for season two for Witcher and I really, really need some time off. I had no idea how much the process had run me down. I am physically exhausted,” he mentioned.

 “A lot of action, huh. I saw some episodes of the first season.”

 “Nice. Yeah, it’s a lot of working out and fight training. It goes on and on,” he explained.

 “Poor thing.” You were teasing him, and when he chuckled, you were glad he caught it and didn’t take offense from your condescending tone. The lite humor worked to ease away any tension in the air between you.

 “This is strange. I’m talking to someone on their cell phone while they talk to me on mine.”

 “I can see how that would be strange,” Henry replied.

 Silence fell between you again. It was a mixture of a comfortable one and one of nervousness.

 “I have to tell you before I miss my chance. You have the most amazing voice I have ever heard, and you’re an amazing artist.”

 With a racing heart and a wide grin on your face, you closed your eyes and tried to get control over the butterflies in your belly. It took you several moments to get a grip. This was not the first time you’d gotten a compliment like this, but this was the first time it made you feel like this.

 “Thank you. That’s—kind of you to say.”

 “Just stating facts. I’ve always been a fan of your music,” Henry added.

 “Thank you for that.”

 “You’re welcome. How’s work?”

 You sighed and dropped your head back on the cushion there. “Exhausting. I need a vacation or to stop getting on a plane. It takes a lot out of me,” you confessed.

 “We both need a vacation it seems,” Henry began. The way his voice sounded had you lifting your head to read between the lines.

 “Are you insinuating that we should take a vacation together?”

 “I wasn’t insinuating anything. I was thinking it, though. Seems you read my mind. Sounds like a good idea.”

 You snorted as soon as he finished. “How? We don’t know each other,” you piped up.

 “What’s a better way to get to know each other than on vacation?”

 Your jaw dropped. The man was insane. “You’re crazy. That’s a horrible idea.”

 “Tomato, tomato.”

 Your laugh was loud and almost uncontrollable. You had to give it to him, his sense of humor was top notch.

 “Plus, after our date in a few days, we’ll know each other better,” Henry confidently slid in.

 “What date?”

 “The date you want to show up for when we exchange phones.”

 Usually, this level of cockiness in a man was unattractive. You’d left plenty of them hanging for far less. With him, you found yourself not hating the cocky spiel maybe because it came off as something else—intoxicating confidence.

 “I hear an accent, too,” Henry said, pulling you out of your thoughts.

 “What accent?”

 “An Australian one. It’s faint on most words but heavy on a few.” You smiled. You’d thought it had mainly disappeared by now.

 “Not many people can hear it,” you clarified.

 “I’m good with accents and languages. I know French, some Italian, a few words and phrases in German and Czech.”

 You decided to test that theory.

 “Combien de temps at-il fallu pour apprendre le français?” (How long did it take you to learn French?) 

 “Peu de temps peut être cinq mois.” (Not long maybe five months.) Henry responded in perfect French.

 A thrill filled you.

 "Und Deutsch?”

 "Deutsch dauerte länger etwa acht Monate.” (German took longer about eight months) Henry replied in perfect enough German.

“You speak French and German?”

 “A very little bit, trust me, it wasn’t my idea. You sound like a native, though,” you complimented.

 “Thanks. I try.”

 The longer you spoke, the more intrigued you became by him, and the more intrigued you became, the more attracted to him you became. You checked the phone and saw you’d already been talking for almost forty minutes. It didn’t feel nearly that long, though. You could hear his breathing through the phone. It wasn’t heavy breathing, but soft breaths that you imagines were pleasantly warm. When you thought it, you dropped your head back to the cushion in frustration.

 “It’s pretty late here, and I have an early call tomorrow,” you began.

 “Right, I’m sorry to have kept you up.”

 “It’s okay—I guess.”

 “All right, have a good night,” Henry ended.

 “Goodbye, Henry.”

 You ended the call and sank low in the water, but not low enough to wet your hair.

 “I don’t need this now,” you groaned out before you slapped your hand on top of the water creating a small wave that splashed over the edge of the tub and cascaded onto the floor. You had to figure out a way to nip this in the bud.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

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[tales-of-a-fallen-star]

Forgotten Memories (Ignis Scientia/Reader)

Words: 5699 Genre: angst, fluff, romance Rating: SFW

tagging some peeps: @ponkita @amicitonia @ka-za-ri @kawaiinekorose @birdsandivory @kerbiesworld28 @alicemoonwonderland and @hypaalicious (Please let me know whether you’d like to be tagged in the future or not)

A/N: Well, hello there, look who’s posting a fic again after approximately 5 years. Yeah, I’m finally done with this. I was inspired to write this when I played Comrades, hence why it’s set during that time range. Although it’s still a reader insert I wanted to give the 3rd person narrative a try. I just want to quickly point out that I’m not a fan of this whole Y/N thing (at least not in my stuff) and that’s why I simply left blanks. Finally, I do want to apologise that this thing turned out so long (especially the exposition for some reason) but I do hope you enjoy it nonetheless. Huge thanks to @atarostarling for proofreading and editing this, otherwise this thing would be even more of a mess.

She stepped outside of the tent where all the glaives rested after returning from a mission. Her head felt fuzzy, she knew that she dreamed something – about her past perhaps? – but the images faded away as soon as she woke up, too quickly for her to remember anything more specific. She stretched out her limbs, a small sigh of satisfaction leaving her lips, and she looked around the area which used to be one of the market places of Lestallum. She tried to remember exactly how she ended up here in the first place.

It was about four weeks ago that she was found by Libertus Ostium, a kind man who told her what she longed to know ever since she found herself aimlessly walking around the vast lands of Lucis. All these months she didn't know where she came from or who she was. The only hint that indicated anything about her or her past was an intricate engraving on one of her kukris, which she carried with her since the moment she found herself somewhere on the outskirts of Leide.

‘For hearth and home and the fire that only burns for you’

She didn't know what it meant, no matter how much she tried to rummage through her mind  for any information or memories, there was just nothing. It seemed as if there was a dark mist covering up her memories. She wasn’t even sure if the engraving actually meant something, but she clung to the hope that someone who must have been very fond of her gifted the kukris to her. Within that hope was a cruel reminder of how truly alone she was in this world.

She had no one to help her or take care of her when she was in danger, especially with the daemons around at night. She soon had to come to terms with fighting them if she had to and was surprised when her muscles and limbs seemed to act on their own as she slashed her way through the hordes of daemons all by herself. Based on her forgotten instincts, she figured that she must have some sort of combat training. Her skills were how she kept herself afloat, fighting monsters and daemons, accepting hunts to earn some gil now and then, always hoping she would stumble across anyone that knew or recognised her. Slowly but steadily that hope began to gnaw on her and turned into the opposite, dragging her spirits down underground and burying her determination and endurance along with them. And then, when the long night began, she couldn't help but feel as if she was drowning. Drowning in this endless pit of hopelessness and sorrow, making her want to succumb to the darkness and the daemons around her. Tired and exhausted, she was about to give up, to give in to the darkness, but something inside her told her to not lose hope. A voice made her keep going. It was only mere moments later that she saw bright lights coming her way and someone calling out to her.

And now here she was, in the middle of Lestallum, home to all refugees and to those without memories. For her it was still like waking up in a strange land she knew nothing about. Libertus told her she used to be a member of the Kingsglaive, a force installed by the late King Regis Lucis Caelum, and that she must've escaped the fall of Insomnia relatively unharmed - apart from the amnesia, obviously.

Those names meant nothing to her. Her lack of memory only made her feel alone and helpless again, even though she was now surrounded by like-minded and kind people who took good care of her. Yet despite what the people seemed to know, nobody was able to tell her who she was, not even the Immortal himself seemed to know anything about her. Neither did the other glaives, who suffered some partial amnesia like herself, though some of them mentioned that she looked somewhat familiar to them. It restored some of her hope, but she didn't want to cling too much to it. Deep down in her heart, she was certain that somewhere out there someone must be looking for her... right?

Trying to not get lost in thought she stretched out a bit more and decided to see if she could be of assistance to anyone. Her eyes roamed the area and it didn't take too long before she could find a suitable task for her. She began walking towards the working station a few metres away from the tent where Cid Sophiar, a kind and old man who she got along with very well, was already working and tinkering away like a maniac.

“Hey Cid, need any help with that?”

“Mornin' sweepea. Would you be so kind and gimme that wrench over there?” Cid responded in an affectionate voice, which he only used when talking to her. For some reason he was really fond of her, the old mechanic always said that this lost girl reminded him of his granddaughter Cindy.

She made quick work of handing Cid the requested utensil before she let out a squeaky yawn.

“Last mission been hard on you, huh? You slept like a rock these past ten-odd hours.” He smiled.

“What? Ten hours? Wow... I guess the trip to the Disc and back really took a toll on me.” The glaive responded in disbelief that she had slept that long.

“Cauthess, eh? I reckon it can be a helluva trip, with all these daemons runnin' about and such. But, mind if I ask, have ya made it out to Leide ever since you settled in here?” the mechanic inquired.

“No, I'm afraid not, but Monica mentioned something about an escort mission from Galdin Quay all the way back here. She asked me if I was up for it, but I haven't decided on it yet.”

“I think ya should do it. I know a fella who went out there, said somethin’ about goin' fishin' to get his nutrition. Name's ‘Ignis', ever heard of him before?”

That name stirred something in the back of her mind. A strange feeling of familiarity went through her, but she couldn't quite put her finger on why that was.

“No, I don't think so,” she replied.

“He's one of them Crownsguards that used to travel with the Prince. He ain't doing too well these days. Maybe if ya should happen to take on that mission just give him a holler and tell him that old Cid sent ya, maybe lend him a hand or somethin',”

She contemplated the request for a while, but she realised quite quickly that she couldn't turn down one of Cid's requests.

“Alright, if I should happen to run into him I’ll see what I can do to help him,” she responded with a smile on her face.

“You're really a good girl, ain't too many people like you left in this rotten world.”

Although it sounded very bitter, Cid was right. This world was beginning to decay, the daemons slowly took over outpost after  outpost, city after city. The young woman heard some stories about the capital of Accordo being in complete ruins after the awakening of the sea goddess and the assault by myriads of daemons after Prince Noctis vanished. Every day more and more of these horrific stories came through and she was afraid that one day Lestallum and all the people she cared about would meet the same fate while she was out on a mission. This was the same reason why she fought so hard to make the world better again, to keep off the daemons completely and in hope that one day the light would be restored to this world again. She looked at the old man in front of her, his words always seemed to make her feel better and she was really thankful for that. “Thank you, Cid,” she said before pulling him into a hug. A little taken aback at first, the old man began rubbing her back with his free hand as a sad smile spread on his lips. “No need, just take care of yourself when you're out there, promise me?”

“I promise I will,” she said before gently removing herself from the hug.

“Good girl, now off ya pop, I got some work to do.” Cid said, ruffling her hair a bit and laughing.

She made haste for Monica's desk, papers and maps were scattered all over, and the owner herself was bent over it, deep in thought.

“Good morning, Monica,” the young glaive greeted her enthusiastically.

“Oh, hi there. Up for some more work after your well-deserved rest?”

“Yes, ma’am, I’m ready for more. Is that escorting mission from Galdin Quay still available?”

Monica looked up at the young glaive in front of her, “Unfortunately not, Libertus already took care of it.”

The young glaive’s shoulders slumped down a bit, “Oh, I see… well, is there anything else I can help with?”

“Yes, actually. Some workers from Exineris need to travel all the way to Old Lestallum and repair some important electric cables in the area there so we can send power to the outposts beyond. They asked for a few glaives as an escort and as bodyguards while they’re working, so you’d be gone for perhaps a few weeks until all the repairs are made. Are you up for it?” Monica explained while she pointed out the route on the map in front of her.

The glaive considered the job for a moment while she looked at the map on the desk. Although she wanted to do the mission in Galdin Quay to do Cid a favour, she needed something to keep herself busy with for the next few days, so Old Lestallum will have to be enough for now.

“Yes, I am. When can I go?”

“Excellent. I’ll tell one of the drivers to get ready and as soon as you’re ready for departure you may head for Old Lestallum. Be safe!”

“Thank you, ma’am. For hearth and home!” the glaive pledged with her fist placed above her heart before she took her leave. For some reason though, there was this curious feeling spreading in the pit of her stomach, she couldn’t put her finger on what it was. Disappointment?

She decisively shook her head and headed to her tent. There were more important things to think about now.

The mission itself went quite fluently, no major incidents or injuries and the young glaive and her brothers in arms were in the truck on their way back to Lestallum. She sat in the back, looking absentmindedly out of the window and observing the landscape around her. As they were driving on the street through the Coernix Bypass she spotted the figure of a coeurl sitting in the tall grass not even twenty metres away from the truck. When it made eye contact with her it seemed as if time stopped around her. The car just stood still, her comrades were immobilised mid-sentence and she did not hear a single noise. It was only her and the coeurl. She decided to get out of the car, summoned her kukris out of instinct into her hands and sharpened her senses in case the wild animal decided to attack her, but the coeurl did nothing apart from stare at her with its intense green eyes. Its whiskers drew lazy circles on the ground and tiny flames, instead of a coeurls usually electrifying sparkles, emitted from them. For some reason she felt as if she saw those eyes before somewhere, looking into them gave her a strange feeling of peace and security.

Then, suddenly, she heard muffled voices and she tried to make out their owners, but there was no one else around. It was then that she realised the voices were inside her head. She closed her eyes and tried to focus on them to make out what they were saying. It was as if the dark mist clouding her mind lifted slightly and these voices were a ray of light coming through, but all she got were just tiny pieces of shattered glass and she had to collect them one by one to piece it all back together. When she opened her eyes again the coeurl still stared at her with its green eyes, drawing her into them and capturing her. They were as deep as the ocean itself and it was almost as if she was bound by magic to not break eye contact with the creature in front of her. Then it happened so suddenly. From one moment to another she could hear the voices in her head as clear as day and she realised that one of them was her own.

“Anything could happen outside of Insomnia, especially at night,” she pleaded.

“I am quite aware, but trust me when I say that I have every reason in the world to take care of myself and come back. To you.”

“Promise me?”

“I swear it.”

Her head began to spin, a sudden headache interrupted what little piece of memory of her past she was beginning to regain. She closed her eyes again, grasping after every little wisp of memory in her mind’s eye, but to no avail. She opened her eyes again to look at the coeurl who was about to turn around. It threw one last glance at her before starting to head into the open field.

“No, please wait!” she called after the ferocious animal, but it kept walking away from her. She was just about to follow it when she felt herself being pulled back into the car.

“Hey, wake up, we’re here.”

She opened her eyes, her head rested on the window. Still in her delirium she turned her head slightly to see one of her brothers in arms looking at her with a quizzical brow, “Are you alright? You look kinda pale.”

“Y-yeah… I’m fine, don’t worry. Just a little exhausted, it’s been almost three weeks of constant guard duty after all,” the young glaive responded absentmindedly, trying to remember everything about the weird dream she just had.

“True words, my friend. But come on now, Monica’s probably already waitin’ for us,” the young man, Gutsco, exclaimed and got out of the truck. Before the still sleepy glaive followed him, she took a few moments to collect herself. The intensity of the dream shook something inside her. Never before was she able to remember anything about her dreams before. But for now she decided to be happy about remembering at least something from her past life, even though she didn’t know exactly what it meant or to whom the other voice belonged. The sound of it was already fading away.

‘Well, there’s no reason to ponder too much on it now,’ she told herself before following her friend through the cobbled streets of Lestallum towards Monica’s camp. The kind woman already spotted them from a distance and smiled at them.

“Oh, you made it back. I’m glad to see you all alive and well.”

“Thank you, ma’am. We’re ready to report.”

After the glaives finished reporting to Monica the young woman immediately walked across the plaza to Cid’s working station.

“Well I be damned, look who it is. Good to have you back, kid,” the old man greeted her kindly as he saw her approaching.

“It’s good to see you too, Cid. What’s been happening around here while I was away?”

“Not too much, I gotta say, but do ya remember that fella I told you about before you went out and about to Old Lestallum?”

“Oh, you mean that Ignis guy, right?”

Cid let out a hearty chuckle, “That’s the one, kid. He came along with that escort from Galdin and now he’s lingerin’ somewhere around town.” Then he stopped for a moment, his face full of worry all of a sudden, “Why don’t ya go an’ look for him, keep him company or somethin’. Poor guy seems a bit lonely and lost these days.”

“I guess we have something in common then…” the young glaive acknowledged with a sad voice while staring down at her feet.

“Still didn’t find anyone who knows ya? Sorry to hear that, but don’t give up sweepea, I’ll be damned if there’s no one out there lookin’ for ya,” the mechanic said and ruffled her hair to cheer her up a bit. A little encouraged by his words, she put on a brave smile, “Thank you, Cid, really.”

“Ah, don’t mention it. Now, go and let an old man do his work and if ya should happen to find Ignis tell him old Cid sent ya, maybe it’ll cheer him up a bit.”

She smiled, waving him a friendly goodbye, “I will, promise. See you later!”

After she rested up a bit in her tent she decided to go for a stroll around town, trying to look if she could help out anywhere, but there wasn’t really anyone who needed her help. A few people greeted her on her way, happy to see she was back. She took her time and talked with a few of them to check if they were alright. After bits of small talk and catching up she decided to walk to the power plant. Perhaps Holly needed some help transporting the meteor shards the glaives found on their missions. The young glaive approached the bridge, but Holly was nowhere to be seen and apparently the meteor shards were already inside the power plant, ready for extraction, as there were none to be seen in front of the storage spaces near the bridge. As she looked around the place she also noticed the absence of all the Exineris workers. Besides herself there was only one other person, standing to the left of the bridge and staring into the distance. She didn’t see him before around here, so she guessed the man only a few feet away from her must be who Cid was talking about. She took a closer look at him, her feet acting on their own as she approached the man with careful steps. For some reason she couldn’t help but think that she’s seen him somewhere before.

“You surely know, but it’s rude to stare.” The man said suddenly, humour lacing his voice.

Petrified in her tracks the young woman widened her eyes in shock and embarrassment.

“Oh, uhm, I-uhh…” she stammered, not knowing how to respond. .

The man noticed her predicament and couldn’t help the slight chuckle crossing his lips, “It’s quite alright, don’t worry.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have sneaked up on you like that. It’s just… you know, Cid sent me to go and look for someone and I’ve never seen you around here before, so I figured he was probably talking about you? Well, at least if you are Ignis?” the young woman blabbered away as she nervously fidgeted around with her thumbs.

The man turned around to face her and when she looked at his face her mouth fell wide open. He was wearing a black visor which covered his eyes and parts of a huge scar over his left eye. She could also see smaller scars through his right eyebrow, on the bridge of his nose and his bottom lip, but she thought, if anything, these scars suited the man in front of her and brought out his undeniably handsome features.

“Yes, I am,” he furrowed his eyebrows in thought before continuing, “Excuse me, but have we met before? Your voice sounds quite familiar…”

“Oh, uhm… no, sorry, I don’t think so,” she responded surprised, failing to notice that he seemed to recognise her by her voice instead of her face. “Like I said, Cid sent me to go look for you and maybe help you if you need anything.”

A small smile spread on Ignis’s lips, “Ah, yes, that sounds indeed like Cid. He may be quite gruff on the outside, but he has a kind and caring nature.”

“Yes, he definitely does. So… uhm… do you… need help with anything?” she asked hesitantly. Ignis tilted his head to the ground in thought, contemplating if he should enquire the young woman’s help.

“I could indeed use some help in getting reacquainted with some essential combat techniques,” he said while tapping the side of his visor with his index finger, “Would you be up for a little sparring session?”

It was only now that the glaive realised that the man in front of her was, in fact, blind. Curious to know how this man could possibly fight anyone or anything when he couldn’t see, her mouth began to act on its own, “Uhm, yeah, of course, but… Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude or anything, but how exactly would you be able to fight? You… can’t see anything, can you?”

She wanted to slap herself for not being able to control her curiosity, let alone her mouth, but apparently Ignis wasn’t offended at all. Quite the contrary as there was the ghost of a smile on his lips.

“That is exactly what I’m trying to figure out. So, are you up for the challenge of sparring with a blind man?” For some reason he seemed really smug and mischievous about the whole situation and the young glaive began to feel a bit suspicious. She had the feeling that there was a lot more to this man than meets the eye.

“Okay, alright. Where do you wanna train?”

“The bridge in front of the plant seems fairly suitable, don’t you think?”

“If you say so, then let’s go,” she laughed and turned around. The two of them walked over to the bridge and proceeded to get in position opposite from each other once they arrived. Ignis summoned a pair of daggers into his hands and the young woman followed suit by summoning her kukris with a flick of her wrists.

“Oh, I’d like to say one thing before we start. Don’t assume that you have to go easy on me, give it your all,” Ignis said, still with a smug undertone to his voice. The young woman decided to go along with his slight teasing, “Trust me, I wasn’t planning to. Ready?”

“If you are.”

With that their sparring began, but it was not really that much of a sparring session, considering that Ignis merely threw ice spell after ice spell at her and she had barely enough time to cast a shield around her to not take the full blast of it and freeze to death. “So much for sparring,” she mumbled in a slightly bitter tone.

“Ah, yes, I’m sorry, I did ask for a sparring session, didn’t I?” Ignis changed his stance, holding his two daggers in front of him, prepared to block any oncoming attacks. The glaive decided to approach him with quick steps to attack him from the side but right before she was about to land a hit he slightly adjusted his position and countered her attack with elegance and ease and sent her straight on her back. She felt the air being knocked out of her lungs as she made contact with the ground. ‘How are his reflexes so quick even though he can’t see anything?’ she pondered in frustration while she got back up.

“Not bad for a blind guy,” the young woman tried to tease him. Maybe it would rile him up enough so that he was distracted for her next attack, but he just let out a slight chuckle before sending her back to the ground again by casting a powerful ice spell right in her face.

“You play really dirty, you know that?” she shouted, frustration began to cloud her better judgement as she tried to attack him over and over again. After she was sent to the ground for what felt like the hundredth time she tried to reassess the situation and analyse his moves to develop a better strategy.

‘If he plays dirty then so will I,’ she thought mischievously to herself as a new plan formed inside her head.

She feigned as if she was exhausted and out of breath as she got up again, “Okay, one more time.”

“Well, if you insist.”

They both adjusted their position and Ignis was about to throw an ice spell in her direction again, but she was quick to act this time and rolled away out of the spell’s reach. She threw one of her kukris right behind Ignis and shortly afterwards warped to the same spot. Just as he was about to realise what happened, the young woman jolted her foot against his legs in a quick and smooth movement to try and knock him off balance. Ignis let out a surprised gasp as he stumbled forward for a few moments but regained his composure quickly as he turned around to attack her. She blocked his oncoming attack with one of her kukris and used the momentum to send him stumbling to her right, disarming him with her other kukri in the process. She then squatted downwards and with one circular kick against his foot she stole what was left of his balance and sent him face-first to the ground. The young woman audibly celebrated her victory and threw a fist in the air, “Oh, it feels great to not be the one to eat dirt for a change, ha!”

“That’s… that’s impossible,” Ignis stammered, he seemed completely shell-shocked.

“Oh, come on, don’t be like that. I think I deserved my little victory,” she protested cheerfully, but paused her cheerfulness as she saw the serious expression on the man’s face as he got up.

“No, no, that’s not what I meant,” he began to explain while adjusting his clothes with his gloved hands. “That move… What did you say your name was again?”

“Oh, I… uhm… I don’t have a name. Well, at least I don’t remember it…” she confessed, the familiar sadness creeping up on her again.

“I think I do… ___,” Ignis said with a shaky voice.

“You… what? I-,” as she began to realise that this man, who she only met today, knew her name, and she even recognised it as her own, causing her head to spin. The dark mist clouding her mind began to lift as if her name was the key to unlocking her memories. They all seeped through at once, utterly overwhelming her. Everything in her mind began to race, giving her the worst headache of her life and forcing her to go down on her knees and press her hands to the sides of her head. Images flashed before her mind’s eye as she remembered everything that happened a few months ago.

She stood in the open living room of her apartment in front of Ignis, his face free of scars and his eyes the richest green she had ever seen in her life. She remembered this day so clearly now, the day before Ignis’s departure to Altissia. He was his all prim and proper usual self with his gloves, his perfectly tailored suit, that ridiculous coeurl-print shirt and the skull pendant endearing his neck. He looked at her with a warm smile on his face, but she could see a deep-seated worry in his eyes, hidden behind his pair of spectacles but never hidden from her observation.

“Seeing as this is our last night together before my departure to Altissia for an indefinite amount of time I thought it was appropriate to give you this.”

In his hands a pair of kukris materialised out of the bright crystals that twirled through the air. Her eyes widened at the sight.

“I had them made for you. I know what you're thinking, that you are perfectly capable of protecting yourself. However, given the chance that something might happen to you in my absence, I wanted you to have these. Mainly for my peace of mind, but you mentioned you wanted new ones, so this is beneficial and appeasing to both of us,” Ignis explained as she ghosted her finger around the edges of the blades, fathoming the intricate designs on the handles until she reached an engraving around them. She took the kukris into her own hands to take a closer look what it said.

‘For hearth and home and the fire that only burns for you’

Her breath hitched as she understood the meaning behind it and her eyes began to water as she looked back up at him.

“Gods, Ignis, they are really absolutely beautiful, but… don’t you think you need them more than me? You’re going on a journey facing ferocious wildlife by day and daemons and monsters by night while I’m only on guard duty around the Citadel. What could possibly happen to me?”

His nostrils flared as he took in a deep breath before he closed his hands around her own, “___, I do not trust the Empire and I have the impression that the signing ceremony will not come to pass as quietly as we would like to think. Of course, I do not wish for the worst, but no matter what happens, I want you to be able to defend yourself to your best capabilities and most importantly,” Ignis lifted one of his hands up to her cheek and looked deep into her eyes to reinforce the importance of his following statement, “I want you to be safe, ___. I could never forgive myself if anything happened to you.”

She looked up at him and as she saw the sheen in his eyes hers began to well up with tears as well. She covered his hand with her own. “Don’t worry, I will be.” Then a smile spread on her lips and her gaze lowered to the floor, “After all I learned from the best.”

The strategist let out a little chuckle, “Come on now, I’m nothing special.”

“Yes, you are. To me you will always be the most special person in the whole of Eos.” She met his gaze again with determination, “And this is why I ask of you to be careful as well. Anything could happen outside of Insomnia, especially at night.”

He gave her hands a reassuring squeeze as he put on a brave smile for her. “I am quite aware, but trust me when I say that I have every reason in the world to take care of myself and come back. To you.”

“Promise me?”

“I swear it.”

He rested his forehead on hers and they both closed their eyes. In this moment she felt as if they could remain like this forever, an instant frozen in time if neither of them moved or spoke a word. She focused on his calm breathing and engulfed in his warmth, but Ignis eventually broke their peaceful silence.

“I love you.”

It was just a faint and barely audible whisper, but she never heard anything in her life as clear as those three little words that just fell from his lips. She looked up, right into his eyes, tears beginning to roll down her face, and she  simply smiled as she placed a hand on his cheek.

“I love you, too.”

The images stopped flashing before her mind’s eye, the headache subsided. She opened her eyes again and looked up at the man in front of her, the same gloves, the same suit, the same shirt and she could see the same skull pendant hanging around his neck.

“I… I remember. I remember everything,” she whispered as her vision began to blur from the tears that built up in her eyes. She reached her hand out after him as if she still couldn’t believe that Ignis was there, right in front of her. Her hands traced his arms and his chest until he caught them in his own and pulled her into a crushing embrace. He rested his head on her shoulder, his entire body was shaken by the sobs that emitted from his throat.

“I found you, oh Astrals, I found you. All these months I thought you were gone, that I’d lost you, that you were… you were…” He couldn’t bring himself to finish that sentence in fear of it becoming somehow real if he said it out loud.

Now crying herself, she tried to calm him down. She soothingly ran her fingers through the roots of his hair, “Ignis, it’s okay, I’m here. I’m here now and I will never leave you again, okay?”

In response he loosened the embrace and cupped her face with both of his hands, the only way how he could see someone. “Do you promise me?”

She looked up at him and she could see the one clouded eye behind his visor,  she gazed at all his scars from up close and mirrored his gesture by placing her own hands on either side of his face, her thumb tracing the outline of the scar over his left eye.

“Yes. I swear it.”

Ignis tilted his head forward to rest his forehead on hers, tears rolling silently down his face.

“I love you, Ignis. I’m right here and I will never leave you ever again.”

He let out a shaky breath and instead of responding with words, he wanted to let his actions speak for him. His lips found hers in an instant and it felt as if they became one. Their kiss was filled with so many emotions. It was filled with sorrow and despair and fear, but also with happiness and love and relief. Relief to know that the other was alive, to feel the other’s warmth again after all these months, to know that they were together once again. They remained intertwined like this for what seemed forever. Neither of them wanted to let go of the other, of this moment of tranquillity and peace, and even though they knew it couldn’t last forever, right there, in that moment, in each other’s arms, they felt whole again, complete, inseparable and infinite.

[letstrysomefanfic]

I Thought We Already Weren’t PART 3 (Peter Parker x Reader Angst)

Request: anonymous asked: Ooh I love angst!! Can you do something where the reader has a huge crush on peter but he likes Liz and he asks her out on date and he asks the reader for help with everything so she basically plans the whole thing for him and he keeps saying things like “wow ur such a good friend” and out of jealousy she asks Flash on a date and they start to go out and Peter says he’s not good enough for her and they get into a huge argument and deicde it’s better if they stop being friends…

Word Count: 1,772

Warnings: angst... lot’s of it 

A/N: So wow i gotta admit this one’s gotta be the saddest i think out of all the parts haha sorry (not sorry) and hey, if you want, it hurts more if you listen to ‘Amnesia’ by 5SOS (just a thought, if you’re into feeling rly sad whilst reading this). But wow thanks so much to all those who’re enjoying this request-oneshot-turned-series! I’m soooooo glad you guys are loving it cuz i’m having such a ball writing it! ❤️❤️ So anyway I think I’m gonna be doing one last part after this, cuz i have such a great way of ending it, i think but more on that later ;} (also i didn’t edit or proofread this really so sorry for grammar lol)

again, anon, if you’re out there THANK YOU for this request ❤️❤️

Part 1   Part 2   Part 4

“Helloooo? Earth to Peter…” Liz summoned Peter from his deep thoughts about what Flash could possibly try to do tonight to ‘wow you’. He jerked his head toward her, off his propped up forearm.

“Sorry,” he stammered. “What were you saying again?”

“I was just asking what you got for number four ‘cause my equation looks different from yours…” Liz looked at him with concern. “Are you okay?” she whispered.

“Hm? Yeah yeah, no yeah I’m good,” he squeaked. Crap he thought.

“Are you sure, Peter? Because you’ve been—”

“Liz, I’m fine,” he snapped. She withdrew a little, eyebrows still furrowed with worry. Peter immediately regretted speaking so sharply; he knew she was only worried and wasn’t trying to be annoying. But every time he was with her he felt guilty. He would spend the entire time in her company trying to force himself to not feel that way, or at least figure out why; but he just couldn’t.

“Okay, come on,” she grabbed ahold of Peter’s wrist firmly and led them away from their library table.

“What—where’re we going?”

Liz led them up the stairs, through the science wing, up the narrow fire escape stairway, until they finally hit open air. She leaned back on an AC unit, and even though her arms were crossed, her face was soft and expectant.

“Look, I know I’m not supposed to push and stuff if you don’t want to tell me what’s going on,” she began. “But, Peter, you gotta give me something! You have to talk to me.”

“W—What?” he stammered. “We are talking, what do you mean I don’t want to tell you what’s going on? Nothing’s going on…”

Liz cocked her head at him, “Nothing going on? Peter, you haven’t been yourself lately, and it’s making me kinda worried.”

Peter hung his head. The last time he had a conversation about him not being himself still stung potent in his mind. The last thing he wanted now was for this discussion to end up like the last one.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been myself lately,” he pleaded. “I just… honestly just… I… I don’t know what’s going on with me, like I’m trying to figure it out but I just can’t and—” Peter faltered when he saw Liz’s eyes. The worry was hidden behind a deep sadness that he didn’t even know could be seen through someone’s eyes. “What?” he shakily asked.

“I know what’s going on with you, Peter,” Liz whispered. “And I think you know it too, but you don’t want to admit it. God, this sucks,” she muttered. She glanced up, blinking rapidly, trying to put back the tears that were forming against her will. “But that’s what makes you all the more so… so… so good and this so fucking hard.”

Peter couldn’t even speak. He could feel his old friend, guilt, clawing up his stomach and latching onto his chest. He knew what was coming, and he knew why, but he didn’t want to believe it. Part of him wanted what was coming too, but not like this. No, this was going to hurt too much.

Liz took a shaky breath, “I know you haven’t been hanging around Ned and (Y/N) as much. I know you and (Y/N), had like this… this falling out kinda thing. I know you haven’t been the same since that. I know you see me differently now, even though you try so hard to fight against it and not show it, and for that, Peter, thank you. Because I know that that’s so hard to do.

“But I also know how you look at her—don’t feel guilty; you can’t help it. You know you can’t keep a secret to save your life. It’s also just one of those things no one can help or hide. I’ve seen the way you look at her, Peter. It’s okay,” she uncrossed her arms and gripped Peter’s shoulders. His eyes were welling up as well, no matter how hard he clenched his throat or bit his lip. “That way you look at her, Peter? You used to look at me just like that, when you thought I wouldn’t notice. Well, there was less sadness in your eyes then, but considering all things now…”

Peter regretted that what she was saying was true. It was every little thing that had gone through his mind these past couple weeks, but refused to truly believe. He wished it didn’t have to be like this. There had to have been some other way this could’ve played out where no one was crying, where no one was regretting anything.

The only thing he could muster out was a small, “I’m sorry…”

Liz pulled him into a hug. For the first time in weeks, this one didn’t feel empty. Peter didn’t feel distant or like he wanted it to be over so it wouldn’t feel awkward. This was a hug he didn’t want to step away from because it felt real.

“I know,” she whispered. “But I don’t want to be part of the reason you’re not happy.” They stood there, softly holding each other for what they knew was probably the last time. “I just regret not asking sooner. I can’t imagine what it must be like, carrying that around with you all this time…”

“You don’t deserve this,” Peter mumbled into her hair. He felt her exhale a chuckle.

“Yeah, but,” she pulled away, looking down, “life isn’t really about deserving, is it?”

Peter echoed her movements, anxiously twiddling his fingers as Liz began to walk back to the exit.

“Just promise me, you guys’ll both figure it out, okay?” she called back. Peter looked up at her, forcing himself to nod. Liz’s lips pursed into a bittersweet smile, and she turned and shut the door behind her, leaving a physically, mentally, and emotionally numb Peter.

Sightings of Spiderman had doubled within these last few weeks, and the crime rate dropping by nearly the same amount. Many were applauding his productivity, wondering how Queen’s local hero had become so efficient and driven lately.

But you and Ned knew why. It was his distraction. Like those Flash dates had been for you. At least Peter’s was more constant and fulfilling than just your two hours every week.

It wasn’t like the hot air balloon lunch upstate wasn’t completely distracting, or the early screening of some new movie Flash was into (seriously impressive, you had to admit). They worked, but just for a short while. And once you really thought about it, you found that you felt worse afterward than you did before. You were just reminded of how you were trying oh so hard to forget the main reason you were doing those dates in the first place. It was like how you try so hard to forget something that you end up having it come to mind more.

Once Peter and Liz ended things, it didn’t stop your pain. But it did make you realize what you were doing was pointless. So you ended it. Not like Flash cared much anyway. But why make Peter suffer anymore than he was already. He didn’t need the weight of seeing you with Flash, added on to his guilt and sadness from Liz, crushing him more. 

“So what do you wanna watch now?” Ned asked, scrolling through the menu.

“I’m cool with anything really.”

As he selected ‘Ferris Buller’s Day Off’, he passed you the popcorn bowl. “So… have you talked to Peter yet?” he tried to ask lightly and casually.

You sighed, “You know I haven’t.”

Ned turned to you, his voice dropping into a more serious tone. “I think it’s about time you guys face this head on, you know? Confront it. Confront him. Well maybe not confront him, but at least talk to him—”

“Honestly, Ned, I think I’m just gonna feel a whole lot shittier if I do that.”

“Well I can’t keep being the mediator between you two! Honestly I always feel like I have to evenly split my time between you two, running from one end of school to the other just to hang with my two best friends, who don’t even want to talk to each other!”

“You know you don’t have to do that, Ned.”

“I know but I do anyway. ‘Cause I love you guys and if I can do anything to help you guys be happy, I will! So, that’s why I’m saying you guys need to talk.”

“I don’t even know if he’s ready, you know? To talk? I mean it’s only been like what? Two weeks since, you know... That’s not that long—”

“Pretty sure he is now.”

“‘Pretty sure’?”

Ned glanced up from his phone. “Almost positive,” he assured.

You stared at the floor, contemplating whether it was worth it to or not to reopen that wound. You knew you both knew that you had hurt the other. What you didn’t know was whether you were ready to admit why. Why you were hurt in the first place, why you hurt him in return.

Suddenly the bed lurched as Ned leapt off of it, jerking you out of your head. “Sorry, I uh—,” he stumbled to shove his feet back in his shoes. “—I gotta go, I just remembered my mom set a new curfew, so… yeah.”

“What?” your brows furrowed. “Since when?”

“Since now, apparently?”

“What?”

“Sorry, (Y/N)! Enjoy Ferris Buller without me, I’ll see you Monday!” he sped out your door.

“Okay…? Bye?”

As your front door slammed shut with a loud BANG, you pulled out your phone and texted Ned to let you know when he got home. Reading the clock’s display of 10:41, you found it odd that Ned would suddenly barge out like that. You figured you could interrogate him on it back in school, so you laid back and started to scroll through your phone. As early as it was, you found yourself dozing off. Your eyes had just fluttered closed when—

*tap tap tap*

You bolted up, eyelids heavy, not sure if you had really heard it. Grabbing the remote, you shut the TV and listened again. Nothing. Beside you, your phone buzzed and you read Ned’s message.

You up still? it read.

Yeah why???? you replied.

No later had you hit the send button did you hear the window tapping again. You were sure it was real this time, and your body automatically responded faster than your mind did. Throwing the curtains back and raising the window, your heart beat up to your brain. You had no idea where this was going to take you. As you saw those fluffy brown curls amongst the scarlet and blue, your breath caught.

“Hey.”

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