#i miss them all actually….. need to do another delve into the family tree

[sugarsnappeases]

the noble and most ancient house of black

[yostresswritinggirl]

request for your event? you being klee's older sibling and having to look after her, but when no one's around you're just as mischievous as her :))

It is time to give love to the cutest child in the game, the chaos incarnate herself skdbslbwka I always love these types of scenarios, and with a lot of material available, I went haywire sksksks

Geronimo!

Snippets of angst here and there, but Klee always makes things better! (masterlist)

Responsible, reliable, strong.

Strength seems to run in your family, as well the familiarity with the element of Pyro. Ever since your mother Alice left to venture into the world after the appearance of Albedo, things had been busier and tiring on your end.

You had to fend for you and Klee outside of the little pension the Knights provide. Unlike Klee and Alice, you were no Knight of Favonius, just a normal citizen that does commissions for the Adventurer's Guild while delving into whatever your heart desires. Because of your lack of connection, most of the income you get are from your own work and the bits of mora your mother has left in your care. Your Spark Knight little sister is well in the hands of the Knights, all accommodation handled by them.

A lot of the Knights and even citizens are quite fond of her anyways, and so in multiple care she's not neglected the slightest.

Your mind is at ease knowing that your sister is enjoying a comfortable life while you deal with the loss of a parental figure in silence.

One night as you slip in next to your little sister in her room within the headquarters, the room your mother had occupied before she left, Klee begged you in her half-conscious state to spend the day with her tomorrow even if just for the afternoon. Klee was no spoiled child, she barely asks for anything nor forces others to do her bidding, and this desperation of hers had you crumble as you agreed.

That night you felt more tired than usual. Questioning to yourself, 'have you been neglecting the last family you had?'

Jean felt more than relief when she heard that you'd taking Klee under your care for the day, offering your deepest apologies and gratitude for continuing to look after her in your place. But as Jean waves you two goodbye, she was naive to the chaos she had allowed to come together.

Instead of skipping commissions like you had planned, under the coaxing of your sister, you ended up doing them with her. "It would be fun, Klee will be good and help out too!" And she did, especially when it comes to disposing the creatures around the city.

You watched a Hilichurl fly up from a huge explosion, body spread out as it disappears behind a line of trees in the background. When you looked back down after the smoke disperses, there's a huge crater in the middle of the Hilichurl camp and many unconscious Hilichurls in general.

"Let me try it too!" "Yeeey, go, big sibling!" Picking up one of her smaller bombs she'd laid out on the ground for easy access, you pulled out your bow and hanged the bomb by its head with a piece of string.

"Do a spin, a 360!" "Whatever my sister wants," you started as you started shifting your body in a turn, arrow and string pulled back and ready for release, "Sheeee gets!" When you saw the familiar view of the camp, you angled your shot slightly upwards and released, arrow piercing through the air before immediately turning downward with the weight of the bomb.

You two looked over the cliff to watch the fire show below, arm wrapped around her form to make sure she doesn't fall, as the supposed tiny bomb produced a huge mushroom cloud that sent a gale of black smoke up to where you two watched.

"That was so cool!" "So cool!" You gave your sister a high five, both of your hair disheveled from the force with ashes littered all over your body.

Gliding down the cliff, you didn't give the charred camp much attention as you two sped past to your next commission.

Once you'd went with her to a faraway river when she said she wanted some fish toast. Not wanting her to use her bomb and cause some kind of fish extinction in Mondstadt, you eagerly jumped in the pond after discarding some of your important items and outer clothing, an arrow in hand as you chased and stab the bigger fish.

"Wah, big sis/bro! Behind you! A green scary fish is about to bite you!" "A what now?!"

After you turned, you've ended up wrestling against the jaws of a giant crocodile that strayed into the stream. It took a few minutes before Klee finally stepped in with her Pyro catalyst.

You swimmed a little more to wash away the ashes, cleaning up your sister's face with a wet cloth too from the earlier Hilichurl extermination.

You're not as popular or in the limelight as your sister, many Mondstadtians only ever know you as a simple citizens who deals with commissions, and so very few (select few knights too) know of your connections with the Spark Knight.

When Klee isn't rambling about her bombs, confinement or Albedo, she likes to brag about you. The best and hardworking family, always responsible and witty that you manage to get away with anything. She proudly announces she wants to be as smart as you too, both clauses somehow sending worry to the Knights in fear of Klee and whatever you're capable of.

Despite your respectful smiles and composed appearance, your energy and genius stems from your unhinged mother. The best and worst part about it tho, is that you don't need to report to any higher ups about your experimentations and findings.

"If we lure in a Cryo slime here," you said with a gesture to the net set up by the catapult, "this catapult would sling it over to the field fire the whopperflower made!"

"Do you get it?" "Yes, yes! Klee will deliver a nice and big Cryo slime!" You watched as she took off with that cute run of hers, and not even a minute passes that she comes running back over the slope-

"That's one- two, three, four- five?! KLEE WE ONLY NEEDED ONE SLIME- AHHHHH!"

An adult and a baby Cryo slime got caught in the net which immediately triggered the catapult's mechanism. In the distance you watched them bounce off the flames, also effectively crushing the flower itself under their weight.

Leaving you two to deal with remaining slimes, which was easy with your precise shots and Klee's destructive power. You two escaped death with a few bruises from the bouncing abominations, your catapult broken amidst the encounter.

"(Y/N) is the best big sibling I could ever have! So fun to play with especially! Even if Klee misses them a lot, Klee knows that they're doing it for the best!" Kaeya and Jean awed at the way Klee speaks so fondly of you after getting cleaned up for rest, while you showered during this time in her room's bath. "Klee wants to be as cool as them!"

"What's this?" You emerged from the doorway with a towel around your shoulder, your appearance causing your little sister to jump down from Kaeya's arms to run into yours. "You little mischief, sneaking out of the room to disturb the Acting Grand Master and the Captain!"

"I wanted to talk to them about how fun and cool you are!" Klee giggled when you booped noses, the two older figures in the room chuckling fondly at the sweet scene.

"Perhaps you could look into joining our ranks? There's always a room for you in the Knights, someone as reliable as you would be helpful in protecting Mondstadt," Jean's smile echoes through her words of offer as she looks at you inquisitively, making you gulp at the idea.

You wanted to refuse, for many, many reasons really. But Klee's bright, wide eyes at the thought of finally being in the same place as you for possibly 24/7, tells you you couldn't really refuse.

It was only three months after being a knight that Jean finally realized the deep and ashen crater by Starsnatch Cliff was created by you and Klee's combined efforts. She stares warily as she sees your form pass by the cracked open door to her office, Klee towed behind you as you walk hand in hand with big smiles.

Mondstadt's walls shook that day.

Klee is actually my little sister's favorite character in Genshin. I was tempted to merge this with another ask, but no, I must hold myself.

@moaa @dandelion-dreams @witchsungie @lehra @zelos-simp @legionqueensav @snackgod @rxsalinee @cala-ran @wind-wheel @lilydewi22 @yellowflowre @traveler-lumine @nonniechan @creation-magician @hanniejji @gojos-baby @just-some-stars @volleybloop

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Love Cuts Deep

Chapter 12- Whatever It Takes

Summary: This is it, you’re finally going to help save the world and if all goes to plan, bring Bucky back in the process.

Warning: bit o angst

Masterlist

It’s been a solid month since Tony and Rocket have been crafting tirelessly on the construction of the giant time portal machine type deal, or whatever he’s calling it nowadays. And to your great surprise, as well as everyone else’s, the first test run with Clint was an undeniable success.

Compared to the first one with Scott, things have come a long way.

Clint was able to wander around in that alternate universe for a couple minutes without returning with so much as a single scratch. Thus boosting the teams confidence and excitement for the inevitable time heist that’s in the works. So as of now, everyone’s currently brainstorming as to how this will go about for the most successful mission possible.

“Okay, so the how works.” Begins Steve as everyone sits around the large meeting room, glass screens projecting info about the stones displayed in the background, “Now, we gotta figure out the when and where. Almost everyone in this room has had an encounter with at least one of the six Infinity Stones...”

Tony cuts in with his spout of knowledge, “Or substitute the word “encounter” for “damn near been killed” by one of the six Infinity Stones.” Damn straight, your ass got launched into a Wakandian tree last you saw those goddamn stones.

“Well I haven’t..” Interjects Scott with a puzzled look, confusion clear in his voice, “..but I don’t even know what the hell you’re all talking about.” Oh right, he missed out on all the fun while he was fucking around in the quantum realm.

Sitting on the table you shrug, “Be glad you’ve never seen them, those fucking space rocks will kick your ass if used less then kindly, but it doesn’t matter now. From my understanding we only have enough Pym Particles for one round-trip each.” You explain as they all listen intently, “And clearly these fucking stones have been in a lot of different places throughout history.”

Tony nods, “Our history. So, not a lot of convenient spots to just drop in, yeah?”

“Which means we have to pick out targets.” Adds Clint as Tony points in his direction, “Correct.”

Steve soon gains everyone’s attention once again, “So, let’s start with the Aether. Thor, what do you know?” Asks the blonde, all eyes turn towards the back corner of the room to find Thor slouched in an armchair, beer can in hand while the other one keeps partially hidden in his pajama pants.

A dark pair of sunglasses conceals whether he’s currently awake or not. “Is he asleep?” Wonders Natasha as Rodney humorously adds, “No, no. I’m pretty sure he’s dead.”

A few soft chuckles are heard as you listen intently to the god of thunder, “He’s alive, and most definitely sleeping off that last beer.” You muse as they all give a collective curious brow while you simply shrug, “I can hear his heartbeat, and it’s low enough to tell me he’s not dead.....Well, at least not yet.” You mutter, eyeing up the sleeping giant as an idea sparks into your head.

A second later you pick up a discarded empty beer can sitting right next to you on the table before throwing it at the snoozing god, the thin metal smacks against his forehead with that familiar pop of the can sound, falling to the ground with a crackly ting as Thor jolts awake. And back to the land of the living.

“Nordic Santa you’re up.” His head snaps in your direction as he gives a semi-awkward half grin. 

“Ah right, right, thank you angry one.” Points Thor with a genuine smile now as he quickly gets up before walking over to the screen depicting the red swirly like stone substance. Although soon he delves into the finding of the red mass, what it did to his former flame, that he took her to Asgard seeking help for her sickness, how he showed Jane to his mother, and then he immediately got sad and lost all motivation and train of thought on anything related to that stone.

Ah yes, personal trauma. It’ll do that to you.

Later that day when everyone was feasting on some Chinese takeout, Rocket began an in-depth explanation into where the Power Stone was found; by some guy named Quill who stole it from a planet called Morag. After some time later, Nebula revealed that the Soul Stone was retrieved from Vormir, the place where Thanos murdered her sister Gamora.

It’s been an interesting day to day the least.

Now here you are, slouched comfortably in a lounge chair you stole from the other room, flipping around a pocketknife as Natasha and Tony lay on the nearby table with Bruce sprawled out on the floor in all his Banner-Hulkness. Books scattered everywhere as the two Avengers keep comfortable on some decorative couch pillows as you listen to them brainstorm about the stones whereabouts.

Flipping the knife skillfully between your fingers an idea suddenly pops into your head, “Hey what about that time stone guy you were talking about earlier.”

Banner hums, “Doctor Strange.”

“Yeah, what kind of doctor was he?” Wonders Natasha as you mentally question the same proposition when Tony gives his quick witted answer. “Ear-nose-throat meets rabbit-from-hat.”

“Nice place in the Village, though.” Adds Bruce, Tony agreeing in an instant. “Yeah, on Sullivan Street?”

“Mmm....Bleecker Street.” Mutters Banner as Natasha interrupts, face shifting to realization. “Wait, he lived in New York?”

“No, he lived in Toronto.” Sasses Tony as Banner reveals the truth. “Uh, yeah, on Bleecker and Sullivan.”

Tony coming back with more playful sarcasm, “Have you been listening to anything?”

Suddenly it feels like a lights been switched on in your brain, “Guys.” You quickly implore as they keep silent to listen, “If you pick the right year, wouldn’t there be three stones in New York?” Their faces all collectively shift to astonished realization when Bruce quickly sits up to look at you. “Shut the front door.”

“Well at least someone is paying attention.” Quips Tony as Natasha smacks him with a book.

——

“All right.” Begins Steve as the whole team gathers in the meeting room, “We have a plan. Six stones, three teams, one shot.”

You nod, smirking with excitement, “Let’s get these fuckers and maybe end up saving the world while we’re at it.” He sends you a proud grin and within the next half an hour are the eleven of you suited up and standing in a large circle atop the glass of the giant time portal.

“Five years ago, we lost. All of us....we lost friends. We lost family. We lost a part of ourselves. Today, we have a chance to take it all back. You know your teams. You know your missions. Get the stones. Get them back. One round-trip each. No mistakes....no do-overs.”

“Most of us are going somewhere we know. That doesn’t mean we should know what to expect. Be careful. Look out for each other. This is the fight of our lives...and we’re gonna win.” Affirms Steve with a mutual nod, “Whatever it takes.” He gives one last look around the circle of familiar faces before nodding, “Good luck.”

Nudging the muscular blonde, he shares a small smile with you as you quickly return it, “You practice that last night?” Steve chuckles at your amusing comment while Rocket and Scott gush over his admittedly incredible motivational speech skills.

“Just thought the team could use the confidence boost.” Admits Steve as Bruce flicks the motherboards switches to get the time portal up and running. The machine whirs to life while everyone begins putting on their helmets.

Your slightly apprehensive gaze trails to your left where Natasha is standing, she gives a playful smirk as you force a true smile, “See you in a minute.” Chides the red head as you break out into a smirk.

“будь осторожен там Romanoff.” You add, shifting into your natural dialect that she’s all to familiar with, your actual words translating to “be careful out there” as you give her one last flash of a grin.

A hot second later, your body shrinks to the size of an atom as you feel like you’re entire body is free falling out of an airplane in some strange rainbow colored portal that shifts to shimmering diamonds and then finally a blue coral type texture as you find your teams designed route down some swirling tube of blues and bright white lights until at last you land in...

“Holy shit look at this place.” You mutter in absolute awe at the large golden pillars of Asgard, there was no fucking way you were missing out on traveling to this realm. And anyways, Steve kinda made it your task to keep the potbellied god of thunder in check as yourself and Rocket attempt to locate the Reality Stone with Lebowski as your generous tour guide.

Thor smiles fondly, proudly beaming at you with a rare form of happiness as he points towards the large cavernous halls of the royal palace, “Oh this? Yeah, it’s neat isn’t it, I grew up here....played games down this very hallway actually. Me and some friends used to spar one another as children down here with wooden sticks that looked like swor...”

“Thor.” Interrupts Rocket with an annoyed huff, “Remember why we’re actually here.”

You nod in agreement, quickly remembering the current mission, “He’s right. No time to dwell on fond memories, we need to find that stone before anyone sees us. And going by the logic of literally every time traveling movie I’ve ever seen, which admittedly isn’t a lot, but it’s enough that I know no one can see us. Especially you Thor, that would be a big problem for this timeline, so lead the way.”

“Yes, right on that, good point Y/N....okay um...” He looks around for a moment before pointing in the direction of choice, which is down a long spacious hallway, “This way, no ones gonna see us if we go by the dungeons.” Explains Thor as he quickly leads the way down the obnoxiously long hallway that thankfully is decently vacant.

After about five minutes of trekking around the castles interior, Thor guides you and Rocket down a long stairwell of dark grey stone until you reach the bottom floor. There are large basins of fire lighting the way down the lengthy hallway pass, he jogs past a couple golden tinged cells holding a few odd looking prisoners on your way out.

No doubt these fuckers look like they deserve it.

You pay them no mind as Thor hustles silently across the flooring to a door on the far end, though as you’re shuffling past another cell, your eyes land on the green and black clad slender body of a dark haired man laying atop his bed. Face focused towards the white ceiling as he tosses a cylindrical piece of metal in a repeated rhythm only done by that of an incredibly bored individual.

That must be his brother Loki, you draw into conclusion while racing out of sight of the trickster god while Rocket makes haste by your side. Kind of handsome, you think as an unknowing smile finds itself onto your face. God Y/N you truly are a desperate woman. No, just no.

Eventually, Thor leads your little team of three upstairs to some large balcony type area with a grand view of Asgard, the three of you keeping hidden behind one of the multitude of intricately decorated pillars as he eyes up a woman halfway out of a giant door while she accepts some clothing from a maid.

His bearded face lights up in joy as he points a finger towards the brunette woman, “Oh, there’s Jane.” Whispers Thor as she closes the door, the Asgardian maiden leaving and walking elsewhere down another yawning chamber.

“All right.” Starts Rocket as he stands on some ancient rock covered in unknown hieroglyphics before jumping down to face the two of you once the coast is clear, “Here’s the deal tubby. You’re gonna charm her, Y/N’s gonna keep watch, and I’m gonna poke her with this thing..” He shows some strange metal device with three silver prongs sticking out of it, “...and extract the Reality Stone, and get gone lickety-split.”

The optimism off of this creature never fails to astound you.

“Yeah, what he said.” You add with a shrug in Rocket’s direction as Thor sniffs before raising up a finger. “I’ll be right back, okay? The wine cellar is just down here...” Interjects Thor as he slowly begins walking away, clearly ready to abandon his part in the mission, “My father used to have this huge barrel of Aakonian ale. I’ll see if the scullery has a couple of to-go cups.”

“Hey. Hey!” You whisper yell, causing him to stop for the moment, “Aren’t you drunk enough already? Fuck that fancy wine we got better things to do.” You urgently vouch just as some doors loudly open nearby, immediately the three of you hide behind the stone of hieroglyphics and watch as a long haired woman leads the way, a multitude of servants in her wake as she says something about giving books to Loki from the library.

“Who’s the fancy broad?” Wonders Rocket as you raise an intrigued brow at Thor, his eyes never once leave the woman’s as he takes a steady breath, “That’s my mother.” Reveals the disheartened god, a sudden sadness lacing his very words that does not go unnoticed by you, “She dies today.”

Your breath catches in your throat at this sudden tragic news of great loss, you remember when you lost your own mother by the filthy hands of Hydra and how they helped you quickly forget about her. You didn’t have anytime to grieve or even question her sudden disappearance for that matter, “Oh, shit...that’s today.”

You share a nervous look with Rocket as Thor begins taking some deep almost panicked breaths, his emotions all rising together like a swelling storm as his face shifts to an afflicted pain, “I can’t do this. I can’t do this....” Rambles Thor with a shake of his blonde mane, eyes displaying panic, “..I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t have come. It’s a bad idea!” Whisper yells Thor as he anxiously shifts from one foot to the other.

“Come here.” Beacons Rocket from his perch on the rock.

“No, no, no...” Deviates Thor as he waves his hands nervously in the air like he’s trying to flick some mud off of them, “I think I’m having a panic attack.” Worries the flushed faced god. 

“Come here. Right here.” Says Rocket as he points to the rock, an increase in irritation shifting the tone of his voice while Thor breaths heavily, clearly not on board with whatever Rocket’s going to tell him.

“No, no, no, guys I can’t...I can’t do this, I’m sorry but I’m not ready, I can’t...” Thwack, Thor yelps in surprise at your intentionally weak assault on his large bicep, “Y/N what was that for?” He half-offendedly demands, brows furrowed in confusion at the flash of anger racing across your sour glare.

“You think you’re the only one who lost people?” You snap as he lowers his head like a beaten dog, “What the fuck do you think we’re doing here? I lost the only person I ever loved, Rocket lost his whole family, gone, just like that.” You affirm with a snap of your fingers.

His face grows conflicted as you suddenly lose your heated aurora, face falling into a frown as you place a comforting hand upon his shoulder, “Thor, I know it hurts that you lost your mom...believe me I get it, but she’s gone. And there are plenty of people who are only kinda gone, and you can help them.”

Thor nods apprehensively as you share a small smile with him, “So if it’s not too much to ask, can you get your shit together for the next however long this is going to take so we can save the world?” 

Rocket chuckles before gaining the both of yours attentions. “Agreed. Now all you gotta do is make schmoopy talk to Pretty Pants and when she’s not looking, suck out the Infinity Stone and help us get our family back. Aight?”

Thor nods once more, face twisting into a saddened pain a he looks down to the floor, “Okay.” Mumbles the god of thunder weakly, face reddening as his eyes get glossy. You let him take a breath as he avoids your gaze at all costs, eyes beginning to water while he tries to play it off.

Giving his shoulder a friendly squeeze, your brows furrow in puzzlement, “Are you crying?”

He shakes his head, some tears slipping despite his verbal protest, “No.” Mutters Thor weakly as his tearful gaze finally picks up to meet you, “Yes..” Squeaks out the teary eyed god while his eyes flicker from the far wall to your face once more, “...Y/N, I feel like I’m losing it. I don’t, I don’t know what I’m doing...I just feel so...shit I don’t know anymore.” Admits the fearful Asgardian as he avoids your softening yet slightly annoyed gaze.

oh, Thor you sad motherfucker. I’ve been there.

Rolling your eyes you gently shake his shoulder for emphasis, “Listen to me you big lion, get your shit together! You can do this. You’re the god of thunder for fucks sake, you can do this Thor.” His face turns into a surprisingly more confident expression as he huffs with a self-assured nod. “I can do this.”

“Yeah...I can do this.” Repeats the Asgardian with a sniffle.

Smirking, you give his arm a friendly smack, “Good. Now let’s do this and get the fuck out of here.” You add before swiftly turning on your heel as you and Rocket lead the way to the door, reaching it, the talking raccoon tugs on your leg before you get a chance to open it. “What is it now?”

“Y/N, we lost him.”

“What?!” Realizing Thor has indeed slipped away and out of sight, you clench your fists in irritation, “Goddammit.” You seethe before looking down at Rocket, “Whatever, we’ll find marshmallow fluff later, let’s just get this stupid rock.”

——

Racing down the palaces golden hallways, your boots thud against the stony ground as Rocket runs on all fours right behind you, “I almost hope they catch you!” You shout in between the yelling of the royal guards as they hastily pursue the two of you down the hallway.

“We got the stone didn’t we!” Snaps Rocket as you pick up your pace. 

“We gotta make it back first you dumbfuck!”

He grumbles something unintelligible before you follow the beer tinged scent of Thor into another room, he’s speaking with his mother when they quickly turn around, “Oh, uh, hello...uh, queen something.” You mutter before Rocket practically smacks into the back of your legs. “I got the thing. Come on. We gotta move.”

Thor nods, speaking some last final heartfelt goodbyes to his mother before abruptly stopping the countdown to three just so he can summon his hammer. After a couple lengthy seconds, Mjolnir falls right into his strong grasp causing Thor to laugh and smile in excitement. “I’m still worthy! I’m still worthy.”

Rocket shares a look with you, “Oh, boy.” Mumbles the raccoon as you simply roll your eyes at the bearded Asgardian prince. A moment later the three of you are sucked into the time portal once again before landing on the glass of the time portal machine.

“Did we get them all?” You hear Steve ask in wonder as you hold your stomach from the jostling ride back.

“I think I’m gonna throw up.” You mutter as Rodney smiles in excitement at everyone around him and the stones in their proximity. “Are you telling me this actually worked?”

Taking a deep breath to steady your turning stomach, all eyes turn to Clint as he suddenly falls to his knees, face a mask of saddened grief that sparks panic in your heart. “Clint, where’s Nat?” Questions Bruce as your face falls.

Not her, not Natasha too.

Standing solemnly on the Facility’s large dock with the teams main Avengers in various places close by, you lean against one of the thin steel beams, a deep frown on your lips while your fingers anxiously play with Bucky’s dog tags around your neck.

“Do we know if she had family?” Questions Tony to no on in particular.

Steve swallows thickly, a couple free tear stains falling down the side of his cheeks, “Yeah. Us.” Mutters the blonde gloomily as you bite your bottom lip to keep from crying again.

“What?” Wonders Thor almost in disbelief as Tony gives him a quizzical look, “Yeah, no, you guys are acting like she’s dead. Why are we acting like she’s dead? We have the stones, right? As long as we have the stones Cap, we can bring her back. Isn’t that right?” Adds Thor, glancing between all of you before facing Tony again, “So, stop this shit. We’re the Avengers. Get it together...”

“Can’t get her back.” Interrupts Clint dismally, eyes still set on the open water beyond the compound.

Thor’s brows furrow in befuddlement, “Wh-what...”

“It can’t be undone. It can’t.” Insists Clint, voice slightly wavering in despair; Thor then starts chuckling at the absurdity of the whole shitty situation before rambling about space magic and that there must be another way. Clint on the other hand quickly gets heated about this and promptly snaps at Thor about some red floaty guy he met who revealed once the Soul Stone is taken, the one sacrificed can never come back. Ever.

Soon things calmed down again, though still a rather gloomy atmosphere still lingers like a persistent hazy fog even after they all left, leaving no one but yourself and Steve on the dock. He keeps a steady gaze on the rippling water as he lets his sadness take its course, this is indeed a heavy blow to bear.

Letting out a shaky breath, you move from the leaning against the beam to instead find a spot next to him on the wooden bench. Dog tags still clutched in your fist as you steal a glance at the tearful man. You’ve admittedly never seen him so upset, well, you both may have shared a good cry when Bucky was whipped from existence five years ago. That was the first time you ever truly bonded with anyone from the team, the first time Steve and Natasha showed you their vulnerability. 

And for that, you’ve formed a stronger bond with them that you’d never thought possible. They welcomed you into the compound like an old friend, always treated you with respect and gave you room when you needed it. And even when you didn’t want to be around anyone, they still forced you into playing cards with them anyways, among other dumb games. Which annoyingly so, is what your sad little self needed back then.

 But without Natasha, without her beaming heart and fierce attitude to keep fighting through the unknown and murky waters, you’re not even sure if this would all still be conceivable. Or if you’d even still be here with all of them for that matter, you might have gone on an angry warpath just as Clint did when everyone he ever loved was snatched from him forever. 

So why, after all this time and pain, is she the one who had to go? It’s not fare. And your heart feels broken all over again; sniffling, you swallow thickly before turning your head a little in Steve’s direction, “I didn’t know her for as long as you guys did.....but she was, really the best of us..” You laugh dismally.

 Voice shaky as you hold Bucky’s tags close to your chest, “..If not better. She was the first Avenger I ever met you know, the only piece of my past that didn’t try to murder me on sight, actually. I liked her. She was who I needed to get me through my grief, among other things huh...and uh...I will miss her.....a lot.”

Nothing is heard except for the low rustling of the nearby trees as a soft wind blows into your faces, Steve clasps his hands together, turning to you, “Funnily enough, it took me some time to completely trust her, but now....there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her.” Mutters Steve with the flash of a genuine smile as he thinks fondly on Natasha, who you wish more then anything could still be here to celebrate the hard work of finding those goddamn stones.

It’s not fucking fare.

Swallowing thickly, you nod in agreement as more hot tears trail down your somber face, “The world will owe her their lives and never even know it.....but I will, we all will. Her memory will live on if I can help it, we owe her that much.”

Steve slowly nods, thumbs fiddling together anxiously as he mutters a raspy, “Yeah.”

You rest a comforting hand atop his broad shoulder as he shares a mutually dismal look with you, “We’ve already lost so much already and she fought for this like no once else did, we will avenge her Steve. I don’t doubt she knows it.”

-

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[sw124]

Monster Boyfriend!Reader insert!

Female Reader! Shadow boyfriend.

[The reader is nicknames are Angel by the boyfriend and Bo by everyone else]

Another day, another chewing out by your asshole of a boss who as usual promoted the skinny collage girl over you; despite the fact you worked at this office for over five years and kept it running! In your opinion your boss was a misogynistic piece of garbage who believed all woman had the minds of toddlers, that and their only purpose was to be servants/playthings/baby factories to all men. The only reason he promoted this new girl was because he was looking for new eye candy.

It was just your boss who shared this view however, the other members of the office didn’t share their views. All of them were married and had kids, you could feel the unease when the boss made filthy jokes about someone’s daughter…especially when that daughter was only thirteen years old.

The father of this girl was your friend and neighbor Roy, he was tempted to punch his boss senseless but at the moment he couldn’t afford to. He just found out he and his wife were expecting baby number two, his wife worked from home but he always believed in having a safety net.

[Lunch break]

You sat down by Roy and Trevor, he was from accounting and pretended to be a bachelor when he actually dating a very nice young person, they preferred not to be labeled with a gender.

“Hey Bo, heard the boss yelling at ya; what was it about this time?” Asked Trevor opening his lunchbox.

“The account he assigned to the new girl was lost and he’s blaming me despite I had no part in its loss. He just wants to get on the girls good side so he can try an sleep with her…” you mumbled as you pulled out your own lunch.

You weren’t skinny, you were round with curves and a belly. This lead to many comments from your boss but you brushed them off, especially when you got home cooked lunches from your boyfriend. Today’s lunch was as beautiful as before, he got into making those character bento lunchboxes he saw on tiktok. Today’s lunch was fried chicken meatballs with rolled up omelet and little rice balls. The meatballs were decorated to look like hedgehogs, the little rice balls made to look like penguins and the omelets were speckled with green and filled with cheese.

“Lee went all out on that didn’t he?” Retorted Roy with a chuckle, his lunch was a grilled panini he ordered from the shop next door.

“He loves to cook and I love eating his cooking.” You smiled as you chowed down into his creation.

There was a small avocado salad on the side with diced raw onions and a small squirt of hotshots on it. It was a interesting combination but it actually worked out well.

You were about to dig into this salad when your boss walked in, so begins his usual walk around the tables giving comments on everyone’s choice of lunches. Mocking men who didn’t have properly made lunches by their wives or joked about being bachelors. You finished the penguin rice balls when he came your table.

“An what has this group prepared hm?” He leaned over Roy and his sandwich. “Wife not making you lunch anymore, what you two get into a fight again?”

Ugh; you hated how he smirked every time he put someone down, he looked over at Trevor. His lunch was simple homemade steak and cheese wrap his partner made.

“Huh, thats surprising; most single guys don’t know how to cook, where’d you buy that?” Trevor was about to answer but the ass turned to you and eyed your lunch. “Well what does the pig have today? Something that looks decent, bet it tastes like shit though?”

He reached for your food, Roy was the one who pulled it away from him. “Sir, need I remind you that the last time you took someone’s food the CEO of the company came down here to scold you?”

Your boss glared at him but backed off, yes he literally took someone’s food from them and was reported. He managed to play it off as a misunderstanding but it didn’t stop the CEO from chewing him out.

“Fine, let the pig eat her slop.” With that your boss left.

“Thanks Roy…” you sighed, this was going to be a long day…

[A few hours later]

Finally it was time to leave, three’o clock, you got all your things and bolted for the elevator. You made it in time too, you knew your boss came looking for stragglers to do extra work. The doors closed just as he walked into look for anyone; preferably you. But you escaped, you learned when and how to avoid him near the end of the day.

Now piled into your car you, Trevor and Roy all heading back to the same apartment building you shared. Trevor lived on the fourth floor of the apartments while you and Roy were on the second floor, he lived in the apartment across the hallway from you and your boyfriend. You said goodbye to them and walked into your apartment, the money you made was good despite your boss.

You composed yourself before hand and as you were closing the door…you saw your shadow growing, it grew larger, bulkier and once it reached a hight of 9ft…three bio-green eyes appeared; feral and happy.

“Welcome home Angel.”

His large clawed hands picked you up and cradled you in those burly arms, the term ‘broad chest’ didn’t do your darling justice. He had hair but it was so molded to his body it almost looked like a helmet minus the part that hung off. He had what you called an inverted pixie bob, he nuzzled you and peppered your cheek with little kisses. He didn’t have a visible mouth, nose or ears but that only added to his charm.

“Hi Caine, I’m so happy to be home. Lunch was soooo good, I loved those little penguins you made.”

You watched those eyes of his turn into stars as he hugged tightly, you hugged him back….oh you needed this. You needed ‘him’ right now more then anything, just him and his big arms hugging you.

“I’m making pizza tonight, I figured it’d be cheaper then buying it.” He whistled.

“Ooh that sounds good.” You whined happily.

You only had your eyes closed for a moment before you found yourself in your bedroom. He sat you on the bed and proceeded to remove your shoes, what on earth did you do to get a guy this awesome?

“Oh, so you know; Brandy called me and told me about your company throwing a family picnic!”

Right…the picnic, another excuse for that ass of a boss to mock everyone’s lifestyle and show up his wealth. You smiled at him, he loved picnics and meeting all the people you worked with. No way were you gonna say no, but that didn’t mean you weren’t gonna try and stay as far away from your boss as possible.

“Its gonna be a potluck kind of picnic so lets make something yummy together hm?” You smiled as you stood back up and changed into your comfy clothes.

He squealed with glee and whisked you back up into his arms, dinner was delicious and so was dessert. Just simple store bot gelato but still good, the two of you sitting on the couch bing watching documentaries and internet cat videos.

[two weeks later]

The weather was perfect, there was a nice light breeze and there were clouds, lots of them. White, fluffy clouds that casted shadows to shield you from the sun from time to time. Not that it was terribly hot, warm but not hot. You and Cain parked the car under a tree and got out, the company picnic was being held at the local park near the river. It was a very nice place, already you saw many of your co-workers here.

Cain had already delved into your shadow, not out of fear but it was easier to move around crowds. You already saw a few other co-workers who brought their spouses. Mark from HR was one of the few you knew who was dating someone who wasn’t human, his girlfriend was the same height as Cain but unlike Cain she was more mammalian. She was what many called a ‘wendigo’ but she had more of a wolf appearance mostly due to her skull face; her name you recalled is Sophie.

You and Mark had that in common, the two of you love large, adorable creatures that could crush you in their embraces. You watched Mark talk as Sophie filled a plate with ribs and handed them to some other co-workers. You walked over, greeted her and sat down two large bowls. One had your famous fruit salad while the other had Cain’s spicy garlic Parmesan chicken wings.

Cain was about to come out to say hello when everyone was silenced by the tapping on a microphone.

“Everyone, thank you all for coming! I’m so thrilled to see everyone’s bright faces here!”

You gritted your teeth…it was your boss, here it comes. He did this whenever possible, bringing people up and passively insulting them for whatever reason an pass it off as a joke. Well today he was bringing couples up and joking, he already had Roy up there and joked about his family. It was clear Roy wanted to punch the guy’s lights out an you didn’t blame him.

“Thanks Roy for being a great sport, up next…why our own Ms. Bo!”

Well crud..it was your turn, you felt Cain gripping your shoulder but you had no choice. You patted the invisible hand and walked up onto the stage, you saw how he leered at you.

“Well everyone, here she is Miss Bo. Where’s your boyfriend, oh I’m sorry dear I guess the rumors are true men don’t like chubby little bitches like you.”

Uh oh…now he didn’t, you watched your shadow shift and move, steadily growing behind your boss as he continued.

“Any single men out here wanna plow this porker? No? Well thats to be expected, lots of smart men know to stay away-“ the mic was yanked out of his hand, he spun around…only to be face to face with three murder colored eyes.

You reached an took the mic. “Sir, I’d like to introduce you to Cain, my beloved boyfriend of four very happy years. We met in middle school, started dating in collage. Thats all you need to know….Cain put him down please.”

You didn’t need to look, Cain had your boss by the scruff of his shirt, dangling him over the edge of the stage….he relented and sat him down; he turned and took the mic from you.

“An for the record; you call my girl anything other then her name…well..” he exposed his rarely seen mouth, inside were rows of razors ready to tear him apart.

“The last thing you’ll be seeing are these.”

You refrained from saying anything..especially about your bosses soiled trousers.

[later, after the picnic]

Back in your apartment, cuddled on the couch; sitting in his lap with a box of macarons and other sweet treats. You look up at Cain who still seemed a little mad from what he heard.

“Honey its ok, the boss got fired for what he said and we’re getting a new one, its all thanks to you.” You give him a kiss, that seemed to melt the grump off.

“Yeah, though I’m still upset that you went through all those nasty things…”

Oh no the puppy eyes…the sad ‘mama I need love’ puppy eyes. He always got his way when something happened. Last time he did this was when you had you wisdom teeth taken out and you were in pain.

“I know but you know what?”

Cain looks down at you.

“What?”

“You made it worth it, every day I’d come home to the best thing nature ever created.”

You saw stars dance in his sweet eyes as he hugged you tightly, for the rest of the night was filled again with cat videos and documentaries until the two of you slowly drifted off to sleep, you safely tucked into his loving embrace.

End.

[so you know all of this was inspired by the drawings of @semisolidmind and her monster boyfriend series oooh their sooo cute! Semi I hope you like this you inspired this!]

[nextwarden]

Webtoons are good for the soul PART II - ECLECTIC BOOGALOO

A continuation of this.

Sea Salt and Sand by neggut [ongoing]

In the autumn holidays 3 months ago, Brynn and Bailey shared a kiss. When Bailey left, Brynn tried to forget all about her and continue living an unremarkable life, only for Bailey to suddenly transfer to her school! What follows is a coming of age story full of pining, misunderstandings and confusion as Brynn and Bailey question the true nature of their relationship. 

It’s cute and a bit angsty but not too much. The art style often feels incomplete or rushed but in a good way, its flaws give character to the characters and the story. One of my all time favourites.

Apathy meets labrador/10

Dragonbourne by Gummy Shark [ongoing]

After a troubled past, Sir Ross Edmund Avery is somewhat content to lead a mundane existence, alone in his house. However, when he stumbles upon a child in the woods on Solstice Night who is anything but mundane, his simple life will be turned upside down.

A scar(r)ed man adopts a feral child, hijinks ensue. Once again, the art style is endearing, full of curves and long lines. Haven’t checked on that one in a while but the first twenty chapters were very promising.

Found family/10

The Last Human by Zack Jordan [ongoing]

She's the galaxy's worst nightmare: a Human. Fortunately, she's the last one. Now her adoptive (alien) mother is realizing that raising a young Human is no easy task.

Basically the badass and child duo trope but the truth may surprise you. Fun, cute, very wholesome, and surprisingly emotionnaly philosophical at times. Spidermom is best mom.

Recommend/10

Vampire Husband by Scragony [ongoing]

The life of Charles the Vampire an Cheryl the human after years of marriage.

What if tragic romance between human and vampire but they had their “happy-ever-after”? This is after. It’s funny and cute.

Relationship goals/10

Blood Stain by sigeel [ongoing]

A story about courage, growing up and finding friendships in most unlikely places... spiced with some MAD SCIENCE! 

Haven’t quite wrapped my head around this one yet, but it’s fun and drawn by sigeel (a.k.a. Linda Sejic) so of course it’s beautiful. Enjoyed it a lot, will have to keep reading.

Bloody merry/10

Punderworld by sigeel [ongoing - on hiatus]

Hades' and Persephone's love-struck misadventures.

Another take on Hades and Persephone’s love story. Once again, sigeel, so of course I love the art.

Bumbling idiots/10

The Queen and the Woodborn by Shiniez [ongoing]

Far away behind seven hills and seven forests, seven fields and seven rivers, there lived a Queen... welcome to the queen and the woodborn. a fairy tale romance for the mature readers about the unseen Queen and the Goddess in the woods. a tale of the two forgotten by the world around them who will make the world remember their names. expect gods and monsters and a romance for the ages.

Not many chapters yet but very long ones to compensate. This one is by Shiniez (a.k.a. Stjepan Sejic) so, once again, love the art. The story, the character designs and concepts, and the pace are all amazing.

Very wow/10

P.E.T.S. by Gyxks [ongoing]

Just when Tasha was about to start a new life, she was abducted by aliens. Fortunately, she and other humans were rescued by an interstellar general named Tourmaline. She soon discovered that her body was unfit to return home without endangering life on earth. Join her on her journey traversing this new world and these new feelings for an alien general. 

POV: You’re living your best life as a young adult, at the shopping mall at 2am in your pyjamas, when suddenly death aliens rain pain all around and you’re abducted only to be saved by tall buff alien commander lady. Romance ensues. Maybe, it’s slow burn but quite enjoyable to read.

Blush/10

Scoob and Shag by Misterie Krew [ongoing]

Scoob and his best pal Shag are up to their usual hi-jinks, but everything is not as it seems in their latest adventure. 

No relations to any character whatsoever. None. None at all. Also no relations to any kind of sense at all either. Can’t quite explain that one except that it’s genius. Just read it.

Is that a gun?/10

Bewitched by peachyytown [ongoing]

The witch who keeps "kidnapping" the princess is actually her girlfriend and they're just going on dates.

Short but cute alternative take on all that witch/monster/princess shenanigans. In the same vein as Our days in Lumain. Also the art is very nice.

Meetcute/10

When the Pink Trees Bear Fruit by neggut [completed]

A sweet love blooms between two women on an orchard in 1973.

A short story, five chapters only, but play devastatingly well with one’s heart. In the same vein as It Stems From Love by Soya S. Holm. neggut ist sehr gut.

Tears/10

Rooftops & Roommates by Zaanart [ongoing]

Jeb is an architecture major at university, rooming with his best friend Todd. There's just one problem... Jeb’s secretly a gargoyle! Between studying, partying, and a bad ghost problem, will Jeb be able to keep his true identity a secret?

Jeb is sweet, Jeb is fresh, but Jeb is decidedly not very good at keeping a secret. It’s funny, slice-of-life, roommate college shenanigans at its finest. With a magical twist.

Ship/10

Everything is Fine by Mike Birchall [ongoing]

Sam and Maggie are a normal couple, in a normal house, in a normal neighborhood. There is nothing strange about their heads, their neighbors or their sweet little dog. Everything is Fine.

I haven’t actually started this one yet, but the premise is very very very interesting. Perhaps not for thos who are faint of heart? Deceptively cute. Or is it?

It’s fine/10

Castle Swimmer by Wendy Lian Martin [ongoing]

What happens when your entire life is ruled by a prophecy – your future foretold by people you’ve never met, who died long before you were born.  Such is the story of two young sea creatures.  One believed to be a guiding light for his people, a Beacon who will lead them to a bright, prosperous future.  The other is a teenage prince for who’s destiny is to KILL the Beacon so that HIS own people might thrive.  When both reject the course set for them, it leads to a raucous adventure as big and unpredictable as the ocean itself – and a romance that nobody could have predicted.

It’s fish. It’s gay. It’s under da sea and ya gotta kiss the boy. I haven’t read it all yet but enough to vouch for it and to have some vested interest in the universe and its lore.

Enemies to lovers/10

Demon Highschool by Kiiyoko [ongoing]

After a compromise it was agreed that criminals would attend a "demons highschool" where they would work as slaves for demons And while it was all in good favor, things take a very dark and twisted turn at said, highschool.

There’s something, some kind of twist, about the MC which I haven’t gotten to yet, and which I am very interested to discover. I’m not quite sure how I feel about this one as of now, mostly curious I’d say.

Pet/10

Hooky by Miriam Bonastre Tur [completed]

Dani and Dorian have missed the bus of the school of magic. Now, they must find someone who teach them how to be a great and good witches... Or maybe not.​ 

This one is a strange one about witchery and family. Surprisingly deep and serious at times, very enjoyable. Unfinished on Webtoon but a good start to get into the story.

Siblings/10

Loving Reaper by Jenny Jinya [ongoing]

Animals struggle. Pets and Wildlife alike. The reaper cares for their stories and helps them with the crossover. Short stories about the "Loving Reaper" to raise awareness and collect funds. Breaking hearts for a good cause.

Beautiful bittersweet stories about animals, pets, life and death and love.

Tissues/10

Batman: Wayne Family Adventures by StarBite, CRC Payne, Kielamel Siba, Lan Ma, C.M. Cameron, and Camille Cruz [ongoing]

Batman needs a break. But with new vigilante Duke Thomas moving into Wayne Manor and an endless supply of adopted, fostered, and biological superhero children to manage, Bruce Wayne is going to have his hands full. Being a father can't be harder than being Batman, right? 

What if Bat-family but happy? Official comic, barely started, very fun.

Wholesome/10

The First Night With the Duke by MSG, Taeva, from an original work by Hwang DoTol [ongoing]

A handsome, selfish noble falls for a beautiful, kind commoner -- at least, that’s how the story’s supposed to go. When an average college student wakes up as Ripley, an extra in her favorite romance novel, she resolves to enjoy the luxuries of her character’s status while watching the novel's plot unfold from the sidelines. However, her plans are soon derailed when she finds herself in bed with no other than Duke Zeronis, the novel’s hero! Dodging the villainess’ schemes, the Duke’s advances, and her own feelings, can Ripley keep the story on track and survive beyond the first night? 

Haven’t read that one but a very dear (and respectable) friend (*cough*  @berigolote​  *cough*) of mine keeps pestering me to give it a try. So here it is, try it.

Do it before me and you get a cookie/10

HEART Anthology by Marvin.W, caw-chan and many other artists. [ongoing]

Featuring stories from the 2020 Short Story Contest!  From wholesome stories to tearjerkers, are you ready to catch these feelings?

A collection of beautiful stories on the shorter side, all about the many kinds of love in life, the many beauties of it, and the pains that make it worth living.

Tears that warm the heart/10

In My Heart by Redfield42 [ongong]

Sasaki Mari is a typical delinquent troublemaker whose only goal is to get a boyfriend, but due to her reputation as bully and low grades, all the boys reject her. Then she decides to change her style, and asks for help from the student with the best grades in the class.

It starts off light and fund and progressively seems to delve a little bit more into the seriousness of life. Not a tragedy, however, and very much worth a read still.

I think I have a trope I like/10

My awkward princess by LazyArts [ongoing]

This love story is about a girl named Luna charlotte, and the student council president Alice Evelyn. Luna is a delinquent whom often gets in trouble, as Luna reaches the end of the line she almost gets expelled, now luna has to become a model student with the help of Alice. Will Luna be expelled or will she succeed, read to find out.

Along the lines of Not So Shoujo Love Story, In My Heart, and Susuhara is a Demon. Delinquent/Good Student meetcute, romantinc hijincks ensue.

Seduction/10

RAINBOW! by Rue & Sunny Gloom [ongoing]

This is the story of a girl named Boo. She has pink hair and a vivid imagination and she is about to discover a side of herself that she never considered before. 

Okay, so yes, this one is also also a delinquent meets cute nice girl, but - BUT! - there’s an element of story telling that I love about it: the way we see Boo’s anxiety incorporated visually into the story. Just for that it is one of my favourite recent discoveries!

Protecc/10

-----------------------

Okay, that’s all for part II. Hope you enjoy those as much as I do. Thanks for your attention, sorry for the length and, please, do keep on reading, they all deserve it! As do you.

PART I

[myaekingheart]

For Thirsty Thursday. Tell me about your fav oc! Anything goes, ramble away! Infodump me, baby!

[thirsty thursday]

My favorite OC is definitely Rei 😂 But she's also the one I talk about the most and focus on the most, too, so I should probably pick someone else for this, but...

You're all gonna hear it again because I love her.

Basics are that she's the only daughter of Hana (née Yamanaka) and Yuruganai Natsuki, who own the local bookstore Kaminoki Shop. The bookstore itself was founded by Rei's grandfather, Oku Natsuki. She grew up in a little house on the outskirts of the village with her parents and her paternal grandmother, Teiko Natsuki, with whom she shares a really close bond. Their next door neighbors were Hana and Yuruganai's childhood friends Sakumo and Aijo (née Inuzuka) Hatake, so Rei and Kakashi grew up together and were super close. Rei really admired Kakashi and she desperately wanted to pursue a career as a ninja just like him, but she had very little support at home except for grandmother, who was actually the one who signed Rei's permission slip to enter the academy behind Hana and Yuruganai's backs. Kakashi supported her, too...until he didn't. When he started losing everyone, he did a complete 180 and basically told Rei "forget it, you're too weak, you'll never make it as a ninja so quit while you're ahead" and basically just detached himself from everyone. So that of course broke Rei's heart in pieces. Her childhood best friend, one of the only people who ever supported her, just leaving her in the dust. So she took this as an opportunity. She took that anger and hatred she felt toward him and everyone else who told her she wouldn't make it and she used that to fuel herself further to prove that she belonged there. And by the time she was 18, she was appointed into the ANBU. To train under Kakashi. Things were really tense at first as the two of them tried to navigate this abrupt reunion but ultimately, they couldn't avoid the fact that they still cared very deeply for each other after all these years. And as they grew closer, Rei discovered that sometimes things aren't always as they seem, that Kakashi never actually stopped caring about her, that he detached himself from her because he cared about her. That he tried to deter her from her dreams because he didn't want her to put herself in danger, he didn't want to risk losing her, too. Throughout the years, he'd peer around corners and from behind trees sneaking around to check on her and make sure she was safe. He of course missed her deeply and desperately wanted to spend time with her but he felt that keeping his distance was what was best. Now that she was in the ANBU with him, though, he knew that was no longer possible and neither was avoiding the way he felt about her. At 18 and 20 respectively, Rei and Kakashi ultimately had to admit their feelings to each other and started pursuing a romantic relationship.

Even when things seemed well and good, they were reunited after so many years and Rei had felt like she had finally proven herself to him and her family, things were still rocky. Rei lost her best friend in the line of duty, thanks to her own leadership skills, and spiraled into a deep depression that led her to temporarily break up with Kakashi under the excuse of needing space. It took almost a year for Rei to finally return to him and Kakashi decided quickly afterward to ask her to marry him. And even then, things still manage to go haywire as they try to prep for the wedding and cope with some very rapidfire changes that occur during this time, like their decision to try for a baby being very quickly scrapped by Rei making ANBU captain which is then in turn very quickly scrapped by Rei unexpectedly getting pregnant right after her and Kakashi decided to stop trying. And that's about the point in the story I'm at currently, but things are also about to get even more hectic for reasons I won't delve into now for the sake of ✨spoilers✨

But ultimately Rei and Kakashi do eventually get married and have six children together across a span of ten years: Nariko, Rokurou, Sutego (who is adopted), Katsuro, Keiko, and Kazuhiko.

Personality-wise, Rei is intelligent, a little sarcastic, guarded but also deeply caring, and []. Her paternal family's kekkei genkai is actually founded in empathy through a jutsu called chakra tethering. It's basically the ability to not just channel one's chakra into an object but lock it there so that you and that object are linked, and wherever that object is, you can sense what's going on around it--which is very useful for espionage. Rei can also use herself as a vessel to channel other people's chakra into objects, which is something she uses for a personal thing she has called chakra plants. Her chakra plant project is actually a deeply personal and special thing she reserves for only those she cares the most about like Kakashi, her family, and her closest friends. It involves a very intimate ritual of choosing the perfect flower to represent the aforementioned person, the perfect pot to house that plant in, and then the chakra channeling itself. Once this is complete, the cherished person and their chakra plant are intrinsically linked so that based on the chakra that's locked in the plant, Rei can estimate the morale of that cherished person no matter where they are in the world based on the wellbeing of the plant. So for example, with Kakashi, he and Rei picked a cornflower because it reminded her of scarecrows, she planted it in a pot, and then she siphoned a bit of Kakashi's chakra from his body, channeled it through herself and into the plant, and then locked it in the plant so now if Kakashi is off on a mission and he gets seriously injured, Rei will know something is wrong because the plant will respond to the wellbeing of his chakra and begin to droop or dry out or wilt depending on the severity of his injuries. I feel like it's all kind of complicated, and I should probably draw a diagram of something one of these days to make it a little clearer, but I'm doing my best 😅

And then training-history wise, Rei entered the academy at 6 and made genin at 10. She was placed on a team with her schoolmate and best friend Naru Fuzuki, the daughter of local socialites involved local government and finances, and her bully Sekkachi Fumeiyo, a girl from a downtrodden clan known for being liabilities in battle thanks to a chronic illness that runs in the family. Their sensei was Chikara, a wise and proper woman with a background in, believe it or not, dance. She used those experiences in dance, however, to strengthen her students' teamwork, espionage, and awareness skills by having them create a group alter ego as young idols/rave dancers and perform choreographed dances at a club where they learned how to disguise themselves, change the way they act, and discretely keep their eye on large crowds while doing something else. And of course the importance of being in sync both on the stage and on the battlefield. Despite the fact that they have all since grown up and grown apart in ways, however, they still keep in touch as best as they can. Chikara is out of the village often but she and Sekkachi, specifically, share an extremely close, sisterly bond so Chikara is always the first one Sekkachi goes to for advice or some tough love. And over time, Naru brought Rei and Sekkachi closer together, too, to the point where the two of them are now damn near inseparable and like sisters--they butt heads a lot but there's nothing they wouldn't do for each other and they are always there for one another which is great since neither of them have biological sisters themselves but they're close enough and have known each other long enough that they might as well be sisters. And in the future, Sekkachi ends up becoming sensei to Rei's firstborn, Nariko, as well as Mirai Sarutobi.

There's honestly even more I could say about Rei, her story, her relationship with Kakashi and my other OCs, etc. but by now I feel like this response has gotten long enough so I'll stop it there but the ask box is always open for even more information if anyone is curious enough 😅

[gingerwritess]

ANYTHING IN A LIBRARY AND I LOVE YOU

for my next trick i will turn a fluffy drabble into an almost smutty oneshot then into angsty angsty angst then back to pure fluffiness.

and t h e n i won’t proofread it! wow!!

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Everything is bigger in Asgard.

You weren’t expecting Loki’s single, private room to be bigger than every house you’ve lived in, but his “room” has literal hallways, a bathroom big enough for a family of four to live comfortably, and a closet that could probably rival the queen of England’s.

And a personal library.

That’s the best part. It’s warm and cozy and through a doorway just past that of the bedroom, an archway around a corner that makes your gown dramatically billow around you as you round the corner.

You can practically smell the knowledge sitting on the shelves, and there’s a candle burning it the distance—besides that, you can’t exactly tell if this room has been disturbed over the last few decades.

Dust floats away when you push the heavy door open, peeking inside, a slow creak shattering the silence as the door moves.

Inside, the air sits heavy.

It’s huge, nearly blinding as sunlight streams through the windows, and absolutely overflowing. Seriously, you’ve never seen so many books, so many shelves, and the desk in the back corner is covered in a clutter of papers scrawled over with ink.

This room has been used, clearly. Maybe not recently, but it’s been loved and well used.

The first couple steps puff up clouds of dust under your feet, swirling around your ankles as you walk to one of the shelves—glancing around, you decide you’ve just entered a dream.

It’s just…magical.

Donning a gown of featherlight material that swishes around your ankles, given to you by a queen, hiding in a nearly ancient library surrounded by books written in a dead language??

All you’re missing in this perfect fantasy is your centuries old, mystical prince of a boyfriend, who’s apparently off taking care of his diplomatic duties—you pinch yourself.

Is this actually real?

Fingers skimming over dusty spines, you pause and pull a battered book of the shelf, something leather bound and tied with a belt, a couple of runes scrawled across the cover.

“Interesting choice.”

You jump backwards with a start, your back coming in solid contact with Loki’s chest.

“Don’t do that!”

His chuckle fills the room and you smack his chest with the book.

“I hate you,” you grumble, holding the book to your chest and striding over to the long lounge couch next to the desk, flopping down with an unceremonious huff. “Don’t scare me like that, seriously, I’m gonna punch you next time.”

“That’ll be entertaining,” he hums with a smile, following you and sitting down next to you. “Are you expecting to, ah, read that book?”

He gestures to the leather-bound book in your lap as you open it, glancing over a couple pages.

Oh…it’s all in runes.

“Nope.” You snap it closed and shove it towards Loki. “You’re gonna read it to me.”

He blinks, a slow grin spreading over his face. “Are you sure? Specifically this book?”

“Yes?”

Why not?

Loki clears his throat, opening the dusty book again as you shuffle closer. “From the beginning? It’s a rather drab story, only a couple relatively exciting parts.”

“What’s it about?”

“A princess and her stableboy’s forbidden romance.”

“Sounds cute,” you grin, poking him in the stomach just to watch him squirm away. “Did you wish for a cute stablehand to come steal your heart, too?”

“Maybe.” His grin turns sheepish and he fixes his gaze on the book, flipping through pages to find the parts he wants. “What I ended up with is much better, though.”

“You’re sweet, Loki.” You press a kiss to his cheek. “And for the record? We’re practically living a fairytale romance.”

“Nothing like this one, not yet, believe me.”

There’s a deeply concerning glint in his eye again.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Let me read you part of this book,” he grins, settling back on the couch and laying a cool hand on your thigh. “The book you chose, mind you.”

He laughs at your confusion and clears his throat, setting the book on his lap and pulling you closer as he begins to read in a low, smooth voice.

“The act was lewd yet the pleasure great, and despite the bare coverage of the sparse trees and shrubbery…”

Loki pauses and glances at you, you leaning against him and hanging on to his every word.

“…she wanted nothing more but to take him deeper. Feel a deeper, more intimate, more carnal connection…so blissfully wrong that it could only be right.”

He’s practically purring…and you’re practically drooling.

This isn’t good.

Red alert, your brain screams, red a-fucking-lert—

“He was a beautiful specimen, in every way sculpted to perfection. And in that moment, the way his gaze held hers…”

Loki pauses again, waiting for you to stop him, and looks down at you to find you already staring at him.

He holds your gaze and waits for you to look away.

“…she needed to feel every part of him.”

You don’t even blink.

That was unexpected.

Trying to keep his voice from shaking, he swallows hard and trudges on.

“The, uh, the ground was cold. Hard. Uncomfortable. But wrapped in his arms, she couldn’t care any less when he lowered her to the ground, pushing layers of pestilent petticoat away from the treasure he so coveted.”

You rest your head against his shoulder, daring to even give your bottom lip a little distracted bite—gods, do you know what you’re doing??

His hands are starting to shake when he turns the page.

“The-the tongue of a man is a cursed tool,” he continues, starting to feel a little warm in the face. “But used with such skill, drawing cries from the supple throat under him, he drew her closer and d-delved further into…into her, um…”

You blink up at him as he stutters.

“Further into her, ah, dripping, erm—gods, are you going to stop me??”

“Nope,” you giggle, scooting closer. “I’m fine, are you okay?”

“Not exactly.” He tries to squirm away from you, voice hoarse.

“Loki…baby, you’re blushing!”

Closing the book with a snap and a scowl, Loki stands, pushing you off of him and trying to discretely pull his tunic further down over his hips. “I think that’s enough of this book for today.”

“That was great,” you laugh, bouncing up onto your knees as you grin at him. “Don’t judge me, you’re the one who owns it!”

“Don’t turn this on me,” he scowls, pointing the book in your face. “You’re the one who chose this book and good gods above, it’s hot in here, let’s leave.”

“Mhm. I had no idea. Last I checked, I don’t know how to read runes.”

Still awkwardly shuffling the hem of his shirt around, he holds one hand out to you to help you off the couch. “Next time,” he sighs, “try an ancient self-help book. Don’t go straight for the erotic fiction. Please.”

“Fine,” you laugh, swaying your way out of his reach and over to the cluttered desk. “But you’re the one who has those books in his library, mister, you’re not innocent here.”

Loki sets the book back on his shelf with a nearly audible roll of his eyes as you start rifling through some of the papers covering the desk.

There’s drawings, pencil sketches that’ve been smudged to the point of incomprehension, scraps of paper with only a few words scrawled onto them lying next to entire pages of looped scripts.

And on one corner of the desk, the candle you smelled earlier rests burning steadily, the flame never wavering even when you blow on it.

“Don’t touch it,” Loki warns from behind you. “It’s still fire.”

Your hand hovering in midair, you shoot him a halfhearted glare—

“Don’t read my mind, sunshine.”

“I didn’t have to, dearest.”

After touching the flame anyways and burning your hand—and struggling through the pain of that as silently as possible—you hold your finger to your mouth and try to act like nothing happened, going back to the piles of books and papers on the desk.

Loki saw the whole thing happen, of course, but he knows better than to tell you “I told you so.” Instead he chuckles quietly to himself, grabs another book off the shelf, and comes to join you at the desk.

“Give me your hand.” He kneels next to your chair, setting the book in front of you and taking your hand. “You’re an idiot, were you aware?”

“Leave me alone,” you laugh, “you told me not to, and you don’t tell me what to do.”

A shiver wracks your body when he brings your finger to his lips, glancing up at you with a quirk of his eyebrow as cold air envelopes the burn mark.

“Better?”

“…I love you.”

His cheeks turn the cutest shade of pink and he presses another kiss to your knuckles.

“No more playing with fire. Understood?”

“Mmm…we’ll see.” You lean in to steal a kiss. “I’ve always preferred ice, actually.”

He nearly chokes—that’s an ironic rebuttal. You don’t know, do you?

But speaking of ice…his fingers are certainly cold curling around your jaw, pulling you closer for another brush of the lips, barely there.

This is…strange.

It’s hesitant, as if he’s scared again, touching your bottom lip with the pad of his thumb before his mouth covers it—just like he did the first time he kissed you, terrified and unsure if you might fade right through his fingers.

He pulls away before he can commit to it, your bottom lip sticking to his for the split second he touched his forehead to yours.

“What was that for?”

A small smile tugs at his mouth, his fingers still holding your chin, thumb on your lip. “Do I need a reason?”

“No,” you whisper, dragging him towards you and crashing your mouth into his.

There’s something very odd about this library, that’s for certain.

It’s very…Loki.

You don’t know how else to describe it. But in your mind, it makes perfect sense, the books on the shelves becoming the stories his lips have yet to tell as they move against yours, the pages on pages of words he’s written, rewritten with every slow stroke of his tongue.

He tastes like secrets.

Breaking away for half a second of air, your fists curl in his shirt and hold him close, but a glint of something new on the desk catches your attention and you glance over to see what it is.

Loki leans his forehead against your cheek, chest heaving.

It’s another notebook, but this one looks different.

Smaller, thicker, and it has four letters scratched into the leather cover: LOKI.

“Are you writing a book??” Letting go of his shirt, you excitedly grab the notebook and run a hand over the cover.

Without your cheek to support his forehead, his head drops before he jerks back up, eyes opening and going wide when he sees what you’re holding.

He snatches it out of your hands before he can even begin to think about what he’s doing.

You catch his terrified gaze and blink.

“N-not this one,” he pleads, nothing more than a whisper.

“Okay…”

He sits back on his knees, glancing from the beaten notebook in his hands back up to your concerned eyes.

That was pure instinct, taking it from you.

Might as well be now.

“Actually,” he laughs dryly, slipping it back into your lap. “You might as well.”

“Is it a book you’re writing?” You hesitantly pick it up again, turning it over a couple times. “A novel or something?”

“Not exactly. It’s, ah, a journal of sorts. A diary, memoir…” he shrugs helplessly, gesturing at the notebook. “It’s answers.”

You open the front cover halfway, pause…and with a glance at Loki, close it again.

This is starting to make sense.

“Answers?” You repeat, uncertainly holding the notebook. “Thanos? New York?”

He hesitates before slowly nodding.

“Your family? Magic? Your past—”

“It’s all in there,” he cuts in, looking nearly sick. “Anything you want to know, if you truly want to know.”

A ray of sunlight streams through the window over the desk, cutting a golden curtain between your faces as you just stare at him, tongue heavy.

“I like our little reality we made,” he adds after a moment, already sounding like a defeated man. “Thank you for everything.”

He stands, skin glowing when it dips into the ray of light.

“You’d like this book.” Voice quiet, he taps the fraying cover of the book he had set on the desk in front of you a while ago. “I could translate it, if you’d like.”

His hair looks dark brown in sunlight; not so black. You hadn’t noticed.

“No sex,” he offers, finger hitting the cover again. “A couple tender embraces, plenty of longing brushes of the hand, but, ah…nothing too explicit.”

It is warm in here.

“Or not.” He picks up the book, finally breaking your gaze. “Help yourself to anything that catches your eye.”

“Wait,” you breathe, reaching for him and grabbing his arm. “No, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, please.”

His smile cracks and you hold up the little notebook.

“Do you not want me to read this?”

“I can’t care,” he answers quietly, stepping away from the desk. “Everything in there…you’ll need to know eventually.”

“Are you sure? I won’t read it, Loki, really—”

“No.” He tries to smile again; a decent effort. “You deserve to know. Just-just read it when I’m not here. Please.”

Words aren’t…flowing right now, and he’s only getting closer to the door.

“You’re going to hate me,” Loki quietly chuckles, not a hint of humor in the sound. “And that’s okay.”

“No, sunshine, that’s impossible—”

He holds up his hands, palms scratched over from his anxious picking.

“It’s okay,” he repeats, looking you dead in the eye. “I’ve waited too long, anyways. Let you get too attached. That—that holds everything you need to know about me, i-if you want to love me. It’s not good.”

“Nothing’s going to change that I love you,” you promise. “You know that, right?

Loki smiles, a heartbreaking twitch of the lips.

“I wouldn’t be so sure.”

The door clicks heavily behind him, taking all the cool air in the library with him, leaving you alone at his desk with the explanation you’ve been trying to piece together since the day you met.

…should you?

* * * * * * * *

Funnily enough, the god of lies lied to you, if you can believe that.

That little notebook is missing just one last secret, one he has no intention of ever telling you.

You’d never know it was missing, turning pages through his past and realising that Odin was sick in the head in so many ways, reading gruesome recounts of the beatings, lashings, and psychological torture a certain Titan put Loki through; your hands shake as you flip the page.

Head in his hands, he slumps against the far wall of his bedroom and waits for the inevitable.

You’ll come out of his old library any second, heart shattered, and ask him to take you back to Midgard. And of course, he’s going to agree, he’s going to send you home, not think twice about his selfish desire to keep you here with him, and he’ll go back to the sad excuse of a life he had before you.

Probably prison, actually, with no reason to be better once you leave.

A dull ticking pounds through his head as he waits, every second dragging longer than the last.

At least your last kiss was one to remember.

After an agonising eternity of destructive thoughts, the door down the hallway creaks open again and you step out, slippered feet soft on the wood floors.

Your hands are clenched into fists, Loki notes, still fists when you come to a stop in front of him.

He blinks up at you, eyes already stinging, waiting for you to swing the axe.

“Well?”

You kneel.

Loki’s eyes flutter shut, knowing you’re about to be the last thing he loses before he dies.

“Look what I found.”

The soft smile is audible in your honeyed words.

“Look at your hair,” you giggle, and Loki pries his eyes back open.

In your hands is a picture, an old, faded picture that he’d nearly forgotten about—a picture of him.

“You’re so cute.”

The way you run your fingertips along the picture twists his heart in its cage, your voice so soft and sweet and talking about him.

“Didn’t…” Loki’s voice cracks. “Didn’t you read it?”

“Mhm.” You shuffle around on your knees and sit next to him, still gazing at the old photo.

“A-and you aren’t going to leave?”

“Only if you want me to.”

“No, no, never, please,” he blurts, scrambling to sit up to look at you. “Are you lying to me?”

“Read my mind.” Taking his hand in yours, you press it to your forehead. “Please, Loki, read my mind, I’m not lying.”

A warm wave of energy jolts through your head, engulfing you in a strange warmth until Loki’s hand jerks away, eyes going wide as if he’s been burnt.

“I’m not lying,” you repeat, grabbing his hand and kissing his knuckles. “I love you.”

No, no, no.

His entire life has been dictated by people lying to him. All of it, it’s all lies.

“Loki,” you begin quietly, holding his hand tight in yours. “You’re the god of mischief, right?”

He nods, still doubtful.

“You’re the trickster god,” you continue. “For a long time I thought that meant you were the tricky one—which you are, you’re a pain in the ass, don’t get me wrong—”

He breathes a quiet laugh.

“I thought that meant that you were the one who told the lies, manipulated people and created chaos.”

“I am, I thought that was clear after you read—”

You press a finger to his lips and smile. “You’ve been lied to more than you’ve ever told a lie to anyone else. And to me, that’s what makes you the god of lies.”

He blinks a couple times.

“And people have played with you, too. They’ve used you like a toy and messed with your mind, making more chaos and messes inside your mind and heart than you’ve ever done for anyone else.”

“…god of mischief,” he whispers suddenly, the realisation dawning. “Agent of chaos.”

“Get it?”

He nods slowly, gaze dropping to the photo you’re still holding.

“Call me crazy,” you chuckle, “but I don’t think this cutie right here ever meant for things to go so wrong.”

Loki nods again and leans against the wall, letting you rest your head on his shoulder, holding the photo out in front of you both. “He was far from innocent, but no, he didn’t.”

“I just wish I had known him back then. Before his attempts, y’know?”

You can hear Loki swallow thickly and you tilt your head up to press a kiss to the underside of his jaw.

“I would’ve smooched some sense into him.”

He laughs then, thank god.

A moment passes in silence, your head on his shoulder, and for a split second Loki wants to tell you his last secret. Just get it all out there, have nothing left to hide.

But you’re still staring lovingly at the old picture of him with his little smirk, cocky saunter, his æsir form.

“My hair was awful,” he whispers, and you silently thank whoever’s listening when he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you tighter against him and leaving it there. “Can you believe Frigga let me leave the palace looking like that?”

“For the record,” you laugh, shushing him and hugging the photo to your chest, “I definitely still would’ve hit that.”

He’ll tell you another day.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

the “photo” (gif not mine!) i imagined in case you were wondering :’)

hope you enjoyed, please reblog and feel free to send me ideas!

loki tags: @bluediamond007 @himitoshi @drakesfiance @destiel1597 @dangertoozmanykids101 @archy3001 @jcalpha1 @yzssie @skullvieplu @forthesnakeofdragons @skulliebythesea @wegingerangelica @storiesfrommirkwood @agarwaeneth @adaliamalfoy @laurfangirl424 @paradisaicsam @fitzsimmons-is-forever @ladylokimischief @katelinwrites @tarynkauai @polaristrange @loavesofmeat @canadian-ravenpuff-multishipper @lou-makes-me-strong @holyn0vak @chocolatealmondmillk @swtnrholland @kenzieam @jessiejunebug  @catticas @the-republic-and-face-of-texas @doralupin01 @whitewitchdown @atomiccharmer @falconfeather23435 @babygirlicecream @avengrcs @vethrvolnir2 @bookgirlunicorn @wabisabigrl @myhealingstar @khaleesi-marvel @ei77777 @spacecrumbs @scarlettghost13 @rocks-are-pretty-odd @confessionsofastrugglingteen @easilydistractedwriter @arttasticgreatnessoftheawesome77 @fluffyllamaswearinghats @milktearose @lcyouinhell @h0tshotholland @dontmesswithmemundane @southsidesarcasticwriter @helnik-s @lilith-akemi @fire-in-her-veinz @unlikelysamwinchesteronahunt @mischievousbellerina @kcd15 @mellowgirl01 @lokislilcaribbeanprincess @allthingzhiddleston @scorpionchild81 @lokixme @blue-automne @galaxycharmed @devilbat @kangaroobunny @end-up-well @planetariumx @sarcsep @mrfandomtastic @amaru163 @im-way-too-many-fandoms @caswinchester2000 @kybaeza @wester-than-west @vintagesunshinebitch @adefectivedetective @poetic-nikolai @moonduhsted @kerri-masson @iamverity @innaminitus @spnbarnes @narcissxblack @woohoney @anxiousamandapanda @padmeisgay

[themusicplayedherlife]

Take a Chance (16)

pairing: steve rogers x reader characters: steve rogers, reader, word count: 3k+ warnings: fluff, description of child birth, a bit of angst, some 18+ allusions in the beginning a/n: we’ve come to the end (almost--epilogue coming soooooon)!! i want to thank everyone who has read and kept up with this series <3 i had many moments when i wanted to give up especially after the notes started dwindling and when i realized the masterlist has more notes than the actual story lmfao, but i pushed that aside and instead started writing for myself and it somehow worked out. this story doesn’t end like the movie; the movie has a beautiful twist and ending that i didn’t want to copy or translate to writing. this was a different story inspired by the movie and reader had her own issues and those issues are what she was supposed to work out, steve helped, and shrimp did too in their own way.

once again, thank you to everyone that has stuck around, commented, liked and reblogged! i appreciate all of you <3

prev || all || epilogue

Steve’s arm is under your head and bent so long fingers can lazily smooth out your hair from your sweat slick skin. The cool air of the night brushes against your warm skin from the the open veranda of your small hut over the clear waters of Bora Bora.

He stretches your left hand out with his, staring up at the beautiful sparkling ring that now belongs to you for as long as he’ll have you—no, for as long as you live.

“What about ring?”

“Anillo,” you tell him.

He brings down your hand to kiss the back of it. “Hand?”

You adjust your head to look up at him. “You should know this.”

His eyebrows pinch together, lips pursing for a moment before his face brightens. “Manos!”

You hum in contentment, hiding your smile from him by gazing back at the ring that somehow still shimmers in the dead of night. “Fingers?”

The fingers in your hair pause and his chest rumbles. “Uh.”

“I’ll give you a hint. It starts with de,” you say, folding down your fingers except for two.

“De…dos!”

You laugh softly. “You’ve got it!”

“I’ve got a good teacher.” He turns his head slightly to press a kiss to your hair, slowly lowering your hand back down. “Quiz me more.”

You turn on your side and look up at him to find him staring down at you with a soft smile. “I won’t go easy on you.”

“I was counting on it.”

You bite your lip and sit up, not caring that the thin, white sheet covering your body pools to your waist, leaving you exposed to his eyes and the beautiful glittering waters. You scoot forward and slip your hand under the sheet to pat his leg just under his knee. “Leg?”

“Uh, pierna?” he asks a little unsure and you smile at the confusion crossing his pretty features.

“You sure?”

“Yes?”

“Well, you’re right.” He grin stupidly and you can’t help but snort. “Be more confident, Steve.” You slowly bring your hand up to his knees. “Knee?”

He quirks an eyebrow at you, suspicion beginning to pool in his eyes. “Rodella?”

“Close. Remember, double l’a are pronounced as if it were a y and it’s di not de. Rodilla.” He repeats it successfully and you nod as you trace the strong muscles of his thighs flexing under your soft touch. “Thighs?”

“Muslos,” he says breathlessly, blue eyes darkening.

You trace higher, just barely brushing against the hair on the base of his pelvis and ignore the hitch of his breath to hike up to his stomach. You tap it teasingly at the small playful growl that escapes his lips.

“Baby,” he whines and you can’t help the excitement that builds up at that low, rough voice of his.

“You’re being quizzed.”

He grunts, head slumping back into the pillow as you caress the slowly tensing muscles of his stomach. “It starts with an E.”

“Uh-huh?” You continue to run your finger up and down his chiseled stomach, loving the way his muscles react to your touch. “And what follows after that?”

“I don’t know,” he groans—whether from not remembering the word or from your touch, you don’t know. But it’s still a win for you.

You gently lift yourself and box his thighs between yours as you lean down to just barely trail your lips up his stomach. He sighs contently. “Estómago.”

“Fuck,” he says through a breathy sigh. “Wouldn’t have remembered that.”

“Then maybe you need a recap.” You knead his chest followed by wet kisses, slowly scooting up. “Pecho?”

He places his hands on your waist, one hand trailing down to your thigh as he slowly sits up. “Chest.”

“Cuello?”

“Neck.” He brings you closer to him, hard length pressing against your wet, warm core, a small gasp escaping your lips when he grinds up.

His blue eyes are hazy, dark, staring down at you with so much love and desire, but he doesn’t do more than grind, doesn’t do more than flex his fingers into your skin. He’s waiting for you, just as you’ve been waiting for him.

It’s scary how easy it is to get lost in him, but it’s even scarier how much you want to delve deep into him, into this. There’s a fleeting thought—did you feel the same way that night? Maybe. Maybe not. But that night doesn’t matter anymore. What matters is the future you’re building together—a future you had desperately tried to deny.

You love him.

Lips hover, fingers graxe against warm skin, hot breath fanning. “Labios.” It’s barely said, more of a breathy whisper.

He loves you.

He answers in kind. “Lips.”

And there’s no distance between you.

“Can you see?”

You sigh exasperatedly. “No, Steve. I can’t see.”

This is the third time he’s asked you since he blindfolded you, wanting to surprise you with what he’s been working on for the last couple of months.

His hands are on your bulging stomach and his chest is pressed against your back and it’s ridiculous how you’re both waddling. Now that your stomach is practically the size of a basketball, his hands are always on your stomach, not that they weren’t always on you before. But Steve loves the feeling of Shrimp kicking and moving. You don’t blame him, you love it, too.

It’s really crazy how there’s a life growing inside of you.

“Okay. Okay. You ready?”

“Yes.”

His hands leave your stomach and Shrimp moves, almost as if following after daddy’s hands. You laugh and Steve rustles around.

“Why are you laughing?”

“I think Shrimp misses you already.”

Steve’s hands find your stomach again and he coos gently—“Do you, honey? But I’m right here. Not going anywhere.”

There’s a smile on your face and you wish you could see the tenderness in his gaze. Shrimp kicks in response and he can’t help but chuckle, the sound affectionate and so full of love for your little one.

Steve’s warmth leaves your tummy and instead his fingers brush against your cheeks. “Keep your eyes closed.”

“Steve—“

“No whining, come on.”

You roll your eyes but nod, doing as he says and the blindfold comes off with a quick pull of his fingers. He maneuvers around you, standing behind you once more and wrapping his arms just above your breasts, pressing your back against his chest once more.

“Open them.”

Eyes flutter, chest constricts, and Shrimp kicks—and there’s a moment where you don’t know what to say. You still don’t know what to say.

“It’s…”

For the past few months, this room has been off limits to you. At first, you had been the one to exile yourself from the room, thinking maybe Steve could use it as his bedroom or an office of sorts to get away from you, but there wasn’t any need for that when you both found a balance at home. Then, it was Steve barring you from entering, wanting to keep the room a surprise for you.

He had enlisted the help of Bucky and Sam (and Ben, too), who would come over often to help, sometimes Clint and Tony, too. They’d spend hours in this room and you’d hear their groaning and complaining (from Tony mostly—“why didn’t you just buy it assembled? I’m getting splinters!”) from building the crib and a few other pieces of furniture you and Steve selected for the nursery.

And while seeing everything up and ready for your little one is an already overwhelming feeling, it’s what is on the walls that causes your heart to slam into your ribcage and the reason behind the prickling in your eyes and nose. “Steve… you… you did this?”

You maneuver around the crib in the middle of the room as a delighted gasping sob escapes your lips and there’s shuffling behind you, nervous shuffling. With a gentle hand you trace the beautiful painted branches of the thick tree with green leaves and yellow flowers on a light blue backdrop; your fingers find the Polaroid pictures, the ones of you and Steve and your friends and family pressed messily, and somehow so carefully and beautifully on the branches. You linger on a recent picture you took at another family barbecue, you sitting on Steve’s lap, your mouth open in a genuine laugh and Steve’s hand on your stomach and wrapped around your waist, face hidden in your shoulder, but his eyes peek over your shoulder, crescent eyes smiling at the camera. Bucky took this picture, didn’t he?

Glancing at him over your shoulder, you find him rubbing the back of his neck.

“I did, yeah,” he answers timidly and your heart swells. “Took a lot longer than I expected, but…”

“It’s amazing.”

His eyes meets yours and as soon as he sees your tears he rushes forward and cups your cheeks, wiping the tears away. “Baby—why—what’s wrong—“

You laugh and it’s messy and Steve’s expression softens. “It’s hormones! Shrimp makes me a mess, I swear.”

He chuckles, his forehead thumping against your gently. “Is it really just Shrimp?”

Your hands perch on his shoulders. “No,” you admit. “It’s also because I’m so happy.”

He hums gently and his lips graze your forehead. “Good.” He brings you close to him as much as he can with your tummy in the way. “Do you think Shrimp will like it?”

“Like it? They’ll love it!” you assure him, hands gliding up to cup the back of his neck and tugging on the short hairs playfully. “All the memories we’ll make together, all the people that are eager to meet Shrimp, they’ll be on this wall for them to always look at and remember: they’re loved.” You nuzzle into him. “You’re the most amazing dad, Steve. Our Shrimp is lucky to have you.”

He breathes deeply, it’s shaky and stuttery. “I love you.”

It’s a weird feeling knowing that you could be moments away from bringing life into this world--the pain is there, it’s burning and searing, getting stronger and harder to ignore, coming quicker than before. Steve is here too, cradling your hand to his chest as you hold on for dear life, needing some kind of grounding. You can faintly see him and it hurts--it hurts so much. You’ve been pushing for hours and hours--when will it stop?

Your vision blurs, head falls back against the pillow--push! You have to push! You’re so close! So damn close!

Steve hovers over you, trying to catch your eyes, keep you looking at him. How can a man be so beautiful? Will Shrimp look like their dad or you? You wouldn’t mind it if they looked like Steve, they’d be so beautiful, like a little puppy, chasing you around with an adorable giggle. Steve would hold their hands and help them run after you. He wouldn't ever let you run. Not from him. And not from Shrimp.

With a final push, your legs feel like lead, your body falling back and that’s when you hear it--the loud wailing--their cries, their beautiful cries.

“Congratulations Mr and Mrs. Rogers, you have a healthy, beautiful boy.”

“We have a boy,” Steve whispers, his voice rough and raw--eyes red and so beautiful.

You’re tired, arms weak, but you still hold your arms out--you wanna hold him, you wanna feel him close to you. He’s covered in goo and blood, but you don’t care, not when he’s pressed up against your chest, his wails telling you he’s alive and here, with you--with Steve. “We have a boy,” you repeat, voice hoarse and Steve presses a kiss to your head, so tender and gentle.

You have a beautiful baby boy.

He cries in your arms, tiny hands balled up into fists, thin blonde hairs on his little bald head sticking up awkwardly and you can’t help but laugh—your mom had claimed your heartburn was caused by Shrimp having a lot of hair. You didn’t believe her at first, but now you do.

“Angel,” Steve says softly. “He’s our little angel.”

Your lips twitch and you stare down at your crying baby waving his little fists. “Angel,” you repeat, spanish laced into your voice. “Angel Steven Rogers.”

Amora and Sam’s Wedding

The night air is brisk and welcoming to your heated skin.

Most of the guests are gone, including the bride, who sneaked off at some point during the reception, but Sam doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, he seems to be taking advantage of the fact she’s gone by flirting a mile a minute with Wanda and Natasha, even you, and slamming down drinks that Bonky?—Buck?—Duck?—Bucky?—keeps pouring. Or maybe you’re the one pouring them? Honestly, you don’t know. You just know your head is light and sometimes your legs wobble under you when you try to walk.

You sigh deeply, lifting the bottle of expensive champagne you’ve been carrying around to your lips before passing it on to Steve, who accepts it and immediately takes a swig before twisting the bottle into the sand between you.

Wanda squeals when Bucky wraps his arms under her knees before running out into the water, Sam and Natasha right on their heels, spurring the brunette on and taking pictures and videos.

You throw yourself back onto the ground, not caring about the sand that clings to your exposed shoulders or your hair. “So, she left you, huh?” Your words are lazy, barely any emphasis on vowels and consonants, but Steve seems to understand.

“Yeah.”

“Just like that?” you ask into the night air, the stars barely pushing through the inky black sky full of pollution. The moon is somewhere around here, too, but you can’t find it.

“Just like that.” He’s devastated, heart aching, voice cracking, and you feel for him, you do.

“Love is hard,” you tell him, hardly sparing him a glance. You probably should. If you saw his wrecked expression, you’d probably have shut up and joined your friends in their fun. “But she knew what she wanted, Stevie, you can’t fault her for that.”

Laughter from the crashing waves reaches your ears, Natasha calls out your name and you only raise a hand in response and wave her away. She continues whining, but something or someone steals her attention and your name is no longer being called.

“I know,” he says after a moment as he lays down next to you.

“I think she saved you from a much worse fate.”

“And that is?” He’s skeptical. You don’t blame him. Steve seems like the romantic type from how tenderly he spoke about Shannon—wait, that’s not it… Cher? Sharon? Ah, who cares!

“Being in a loveless marriage,” you tell him softly, your mind clearing as you think about your childhood, about your failed relationships, about every single love story that has fallen like a broken bridge crashing into a river. “Imagine giving her your all, but then realizing that maybe you weren’t meant to be and you end up stuck and miserable?” You turn to him. “And your kids are stuck and miserable with you? That’s worse. Because it’s no longer just about you and her, now there’s these tiny little people who are relying on you, but instead of helping them, you’re hurting them.”

“You don’t know that.”

You blink slowly, taking in the harsh glare he’s sending your way. You smile. “Before you asked Sharon to marry you, did you ever talk about marriage? Kids?”

His glare melts and something else takes its place—hesitance. “...no.”

You raise an eyebrow as if to say—see. He turns away. “She loved you, probably still does, but the things you wanted weren't in the cards for her. Probably never will be.” You return your stare to the sky. “She’s chasing something else, something she wants more. Most people are.”

He sits up and takes out the bottle from the sand to drink from it. “What about you?” You hum in question. “Are you chasing something, too?”

“No,” you answer truthfully, moving your gaze to him only to find him staring back down at you with those blue eyes glittering brighter than any clear ocean, hotter than any fire. “I’m running away.”

His eyebrows furrow and you have the urge to reach out and smooth out the tension, but you don’t. “Why?”

“Because love isn’t just hard. It’s scary and I’ve seen and been through enough disappointment in my life to know that it's capable of breaking me into tiny little pieces.” Your hand rests on your stomach. “I don’t want to hurt an innocent because their dad and I couldn’t play nice. I don’t want to hurt them like I’ve been—“ you swallow and the breeze enters your lungs, filling you with a coldness that you try to push out with an exhale. “Like I’ve been hurt.”

He frowns and you sit up, taking the bottle from his hands to chug down the bubbly liquid that burns your throat, but you don’t care. “How do you know that if you don’t take a chance?” You pause in your drinking, his stern voice causing a shiver to run down your spine. “You’re telling me that it’s great that Sharon spared me the pain in the long run and maybe you’re right. But the pain that I’m feeling? The pain you’re running from? It’s a reminder that we’re human, that we can grow from it. That we love strongly.

“I took a chance with Sharon, and I don’t regret it.” Your hand trembles at the defiance in his voice and you place the bottle back in the sand. “It hurts, sure. And it’ll probably hurt for a long while, and that’s okay. But one day. One day I know I’ll find someone who’ll accept my love and they’ll return it, and it might not be perfect, we’ll fight and maybe we’ll hurt each other, but at the end of the day, we’ll work through it together. We’ll meet halfway.”

Wanda screams your name and Bucky calls for Steve, but your gaze is trapped by the intensity in his eyes.

“Love is hard and painful,” he concedes. “But it’s also beautiful and magical. And I hope one day, you’ll take the chance to discover the beauty of love.”

Your mouth hangs open and you both stare at each other, the calls of your name drowned out by the waves of the ocean, by the heat of his eyes, and the alcohol strumming in your veins.

Hands wrap around your wrist and they’re tugging you to your feet—“let's go! Come on! Sam got more booze!”

Steve stays sitting on the sand as Natasha pulls you along with her, a bottle of something stronger thrusted into your hands, but your eyes never leave Steve’s form. Not one your friends are chanting for you to chug down the tequila, not when your mind is hazy, not when you’re in the water, laughing as you and Wanda struggle to stay upright, not when you take his hand and you fall back into the water.

Not when you ask him to kiss you. Not when you tell him to take you to bed. And not when he’s touching you so softly, so tenderly and so—so lovingly that all you can do is cry out his name as you mold to his body and become one.

Love is difficult; love is hard.

But he was right.

Love can be so much more; and you don’t regret taking your chance on Steve. You never will.

epilogue

[cultureisdarkbeer]

The Beginning - Chapter 2 

Scully found herself in a crowded bar at 2 o’clock in the afternoon waiting on her partner.  What so many patrons were doing there at that hour she hadn’t a clue, but the thought of possibly being hit on by a drunk made her very uncomfortable. Not to mention, it was so loud she couldn’t even hear herself think.  It was week two of working with Agent Mulder and she still wasn’t quite sure what to make of him.  The first week with him was quite an exciting one, but surely the cases would become mundane as time went on. She was suspicious of meeting at a bar.  He had already asked her to go out for a run with him in the middle of the night, called her at nearly 11:30 PM when they got back, and now this.  She began to think he might be hitting on her.  Maybe she should let him know she had a boyfriend.  She really wasn’t into divulging her personal life so easily, but this might be borderline harassment. On top of all that he was late. Impatiently, she glanced at her watch.

Mulder entered the bar and saw the studious Miss Agent Scully reviewing paperwork.  He liked the name Scully, it reminded him of the famed announcer Vin Scully, although, thankfully, she looked nothing like him. Today she was smartly dressed in her pinstripes and her hair was poofier than last time they met.  He was drawn to her lips that were highlighted by a killer red lipstick.  Maybe knowing what she looked like under that suit wasn’t the best for their working relationship.  I’m not attracted to her, he repeated to himself.  Besides, they had more important things to delve into.

He snuck up behind her and it took her by surprise.  It was meant to.  He was so close at first she thought he might kiss her.  A pleasant musky sandalwood cologne filled her nose removing the bar stench that was there previously. He was standing so close he dissolved whatever personal space she had.  Missy was right.  He was hot.  The heat emanating from his body was soothing causing her to go into an almost hypnotic state.  Her body gravitating towards him on a subconscious level.  Their eyes locked and the room went quiet.  His eyes seemingly changing color from an olive green to a gray steel as it happened.  She took off her glasses to get a better look.  He offered to buy her a drink and now she was sure he might be hitting on her.  Keep it professional Dana, she said to herself, knowing there was someone at home.

Scully let out a sigh as he left her to go to the bathroom.  There was something deeply intoxicating and intriguing about him.  At the same time she knew they were headed for trouble with this latest excursion to Idaho.  Still, he put her under his spell with his paranormal bouquet.  She smirked as she could only anticipate what he had in store.

*

At 9:13PM outside Ellen’s Air Base Scully was awoken by the crashing of the back glass of the car. Mulder grabbed her hand leading her up the hill to bear witness to the unexplained.  As they made their way to the top she grasped his hand tighter.  Why did her hand feel so comfortable in his?  Electric charges coursing through his hand into her own.  Why did it always feel like she already knew him?  A familiarity not like an ex-lover or a family member, more like the way you know your own limbs, like the way you sense your lungs take in air or feel your heart coursing blood through your veins.  She looked out at the night’s sky, lights darting everywhere not following any set pattern that she could discern. She heard the blast of a plane engine and the breeze from the exhaust. Oh. My. God.  It was close to a religious experience.

Running from the military helicopter they hid behind a tree with two kids they had discovered in the field high on more than just life. His hand scorched electricity into her back as he held it there until it found its way to her shoulder. They attempted to slow their breathing, hearts pounding with excitement.

The sun was up as they dropped off their new found young crusaders busy misspending their youth.  As they performed some more back and forth inside the car, attempting to learn more about the other, Scully’s casual comment of “If I was that stoned”  caused Mulder to believe that maybe she did loosen up and gazed at her incredulously.   

Eventually, he revealed his belief that the planes at Ellen’s Air Force Base were built using UFO technology.  She thought that he may actually be as crazy as previously alluded and her lack of a filter relayed the information to him.  He laughed as if she was just ignorant to the facts. They were speaking of UFOs, but she felt her body flirting with his as she tucked strands of hair behind her ear, eyes sparkling as she returned cracked smiles and pouty lips. The chemistry between them was strong.  An electricity so thick you could almost see it.  But she wouldn’t describe it as sexual. This was something she had not come across.  Her mind yearning for additional proof.   Another observation she made, at times, even given the substantial difference in their heights, her hips would naturally sway in time with his as they walked.  As if their hips were keeping time with a metronome only they could hear leading them through uncharted supernatural enchantment.  If he was one step ahead of her, it was only due to his inability to keep her in the loop.  She was beginning to think his private agenda was interfering.  Why couldn’t he understand that the government had a right to protect its secrets and the questions they had, they may have no business asking?

*

As the fog began to lift from his mind, he was unable to process what had occurred on the base.  It was taken from him, wiped like a hard drive.  Not like when something is on the tip of your tongue.  It was just gone.  He looked over at his partner.  She was driving them to the airport.  He knew everything he had put her through in the past two weeks had been a lot.  To tell someone of her background the things he had told her.  He understood it was hard for her to believe.  What he failed to understand was how she was still by his side.  He had lied to her, left her, broke the law, and put her career in danger.  Yet she stole a car and threatened a high powered man’s life in exchange for his own.  She didn’t leave without him and she was tough.  Qualified in her position. He was sure that the powers that be had no clue what they had done.  They saw her as a quiet capable obedient young lady, conservative in her thoughts as well as her dress.  Someone able to take him and his department down with her stringent rules and the mighty words of her field report.  What they failed to realize in their cursory assessment was what he knew as an expert profiler, a connoisseur of people.  What she showed the world was a shell she created, encased in a sculpture of choices.  Underneath the rigid layers was an ocean of unpredictability and surprises.

“How are you feeling?” She asked as she glanced over.

“Better than before, but I’ll never get parts of my memory back” He could see her frowning out of the corner of his eye.  “What made you stay?”

“I don’t understand your question.”

“I thought for sure you would have left and headed back to D.C., but you stayed.  You didn’t leave me.”

“I’m not going to leave you Mulder.  You’re my partner.  You don’t leave your partner.”

“There are some that would”

“Well, I’d like to think I have more character and integrity than that.”

“Point taken……thank you. It didn’t go unappreciated.”

“Don’t thank me yet Mulder, I’m sure this isn’t the last time I’m going to have to save your ass.”  A smile started to form at the corner of her mouth.  She glanced at him sideways keeping her head facing front as they drove off into the darkness back to D.C.

*

“Dana honestly, ever since you’ve taken this assignment you haven’t been the same person.”

“Ethan, what are you trying to say?”

“I’m saying that you’ve become distant.”

“You know I am not at liberty to discuss my work with anyone.” This was the third discussion they were having about this.  The conversation was nothing but irritating.

“It’s not just your work Dana.  I think it has something to do with that partner of yours.  Something you haven’t been telling me.”

The mention of her partner caused her blood pressure to rise. “We are partners and I am a professional.  I’m also loyal.  How dare you make any insinuations otherwise.”

Ethan took a visible step back and ran his hand through his dirty blond hair. “Look Dana.  I’ve been offered another job opportunity.  This time in L.A.” He reached out and grabbed both her hands staring her straight in the eye. “Dana, I’d like you to come with me.  You could transfer to the L.A. field office.  We can work on us. Right now it’s too hard on us. You’re gone for weeks at a time, working weekends, this isn’t what we had in our plans.”

Scully released her hands and turned away from him busying herself folding laundry. “Ethan, now is not the time to talk about this.  It’s late and I want to go to bed.  It looks like we both have a lot to consider.  I’m going to need some time.”

“Well, I have to fly out to LA for a meeting next week.  You’ll have some time to think about it then.  Hopefully we will have come to a decision by then.”

One week later…

Mulder stared at Tooms in deep contemplation of the implications of such a mutant on society. He felt Scully’s hand on his arm, stroking his bicep.  Instead of stiffening uncomfortably, his body turned into hers as if part of a dance, folding into her momentum.  She pulled him out of his depravity with a simple touch and they strolled down the hallway together.

As they left the prison with Tooms quietly building a nest inside his cell, Mulder asked Scully if she wanted to stop for a bite to eat.

“I really have to get home.”  She was thinking of Ethan and how he might be upset if he knew she was having dinner with another man.  Although she did have lunch with Tom Colton, but that was only during lunch break.  The truth was she still wasn’t sure whether or not Mulder was hitting on her.  When he grabbed her necklace at work what she found unsettling was that she didn’t even flinch.  They were strangers and her body responded to him like an old friend.  What if he did try something?  What if he kissed her?  Would she pull away?  Would she try to stop him?  She wanted to think that she would turn down his advances, but would she?

“If I promise not to take you out for liver and onions will you come?”

She smiled. It was probably harmless. “Okay, but I really can’t stay out late.”

“Neither can I.  It’s a full moon. I might turn into a werewolf.” He leaned into her and let out a howl.  He grinned and his eyes sparkled.

As they entered the restaurant, Mulder opened the door for her and casually placed his hand on her lower back leading her inside.  He had done the same as he led her through the dark staring at Tooms’ trophy collection.  Once again, she did not like when men made moves like that.  She found it patronizing and possessive.  Yet, when he did it, it felt like they were lego blocks clicking together.  He picked a small booth in the corner so they could talk.  She could tell he was very much into private conversations.  His eyes locked onto hers with an intensity that shot through her core.  In his eyes she saw a day where they wouldn’t need to talk.  She would look into those eyes and know.  That was if she didn’t get lost in them first.  Her tongue flicked out to lick her top lip.

“So what looks good to you?”

“Excuse me?”  His question bringing her back. For a second, she thought he was reading her mind.

“For dinner, what looks good on the menu?”

“Oh, I’m thinking about the steak.”

“Be still my heart, a woman that doesn’t just order a salad.”

“Don’t discount me yet, I had one for lunch.  Normally, I try to eat healthy.  Then sometimes, I don’t.  After what we’ve just been through, I deserve the steak.”

“Well, good for you. I believe I will join you.”

As the waitress set down their plates, Scully took a bite and swallowed.  “I told off Colton.”

“Did you now.” He looked up at her with a grin and placed a fork full of steak into his mouth.

She nodded. “I told him I can’t wait to see him fall down the corporate ladder and land on his ass.”  This drew a laugh from Mulder. She continued passionately. “I still think we should file a complaint against him for calling off that stakeout.  He put my life in jeopardy. Thank you for saving my life by the way.”

“You saved your own life. You were kicking ass. You didn’t need me.” Mulder reached over and fixed her collar. Once again she let him without even a flinch.

That was the in she needed to address his actions. “Mulder, is it an issue that I’m a woman?”

His look was one of surprise.  It was apparent she had startled him with the question. “Why would you ask that? Anyway, you’re not a woman to me.  You’re Scully.”

Okay, so that kind of answers the question.  Whatever that means.

“Is it an issue that I’m Spooky?” His eyebrows forming a pyramid on his forehead.

Oh, this poor man. “If they’re going to call you spooky, they’re going to have to do it behind my back because I won’t put up with it.  I like working with you Mulder, the cases are definitely different.  We look out for each other...”

“And what about you?  What about Mrs. Spooky?” As he said it he lifted her chin with his index finger so she looked him in the eye.

“I’ll wear the title proudly.  I told you, we’re partners now. Mulder, I’m proud to be your partner.”

“If you left I wouldn’t have anyone to run lab tests to prove my theories.” He said it matter-of-factly like that should end any debate.

Scully was able to counter. “Hey, you believed in me when they all said I was wrong.”

“How’s your steak?” He asked completely changing the subject.  He was obviously done with the conversation.

“Very good.  Thank you.”

“Were you able to get your door repaired today?”

“Yes.  Thankfully.  I was able to get the door and window done.”

When the check came he pulled out his wallet, “I’ve got this one.  You get the next.”  

Finally, she had confirmation.  She let out a sigh and relaxed.  He wasn’t making advances. It was just who he was.

***

It was Friday night and Ellen had convinced Scully to go out with the gang.  She hadn’t been out with her friends since she started her new job, so she graciously accepted.   The bar was crowded with a dance floor to match, top 40 music pumping from the DJ’s sound system.

Ellen and Scully were propped on the bar stools watching their friends dance the night away.

“Ethan wants me to go with him to L.A.” Scully’s voice elevated to be heard over the music.

“Is that really what the problem is Dana?  Moving?” Ellen raised an eyebrow at her.

“I don’t know.  It seems like lately we’re so distant.  I blame myself.  It’s probably me.  I think I’m the one pulling away.  He says I’m working too much with my new assignment and when I’m home I’m not paying him any attention.”

“Do you love him?” The question struck her like a hammer in the chest.  She wasn’t expecting that question.

Ellen sensed her anxiety and rephrased the question.  “Do you think you could love him?”

“I don’t know.”  Scully sunk her head into her hands.  “Something’s off.  Maybe I’m not ready for another serious relationship.  Or maybe it’s him.”

Ellen straightened her posture and ordered another drink. “Or it could be your childhood fantasies of Prince Charming.  That guy doesn’t exist Dana.  No guy can be everything.”

“It’s not that he’s not romantic. He’d be a good husband.  Have you ever had that feeling inside, like there’s somebody out there that you’ve been waiting for. Somebody calling out to you in the night, and when you meet, you’ll just know he’s the one.”

Scully’s phone rang and they both jumped. “Scully”

“Hey Scully, it’s me.  Mulder.”

“Oh hey, hi Mulder, what’s up?” Scully mouthed the name Mulder to Ellen and she gave her a look that made Scully scowl.

“It sounds kinda loud on your end, did I catch you at a bad time?”

“It’s fine Mulder, what do you want?”

“I was wondering if the second set of lab results came back yet.  I’m filling out the report and I want to include it.”

“They’re in my briefcase. Can this wait until Monday Mulder?”

“Would it be possible to drop it by my apartment on the way home if you’re in the neighborhood?”

Scully let out a sigh. “Sure Mulder, no problem.”  And with that she hung up the phone.  Scully looked up at Ellen.

Ellen had a shit eating grin on her face. “You were saying about somebody calling you?”

Scully rolled her eyes and smiled finishing off her drink.  “That’s not what I meant.”

“So how is your new partner?”

“He’s good.  I think it will work out if he lets me have a day off.”

“Missy said you think he’s cute.”

Scully blushed. Leave it to Melissa to shout it to the world. “Yes, he’s cute, but I’m taken.”

“Maybe not for long.” Ellen said raising an eyebrow.

*

It was a little after midnight when Scully flicked the lights on in her apartment. Ethan was there on the couch.

“Ethan, why are you sitting in the dark?”

“I don’t know, just thinking.”

“About?” Scully put down her briefcase and sat down on the loveseat. She was not looking forward to this conversation, especially not after the long day she had.   

“It’s been an entire week since I asked you what I asked you and I haven’t heard the slightest response.”

Crap.  With all that had went on this week Scully had completely forgotten about Ethan’s proposal to move with him to L.A. “Ethan, I’m sorry, I just need time to digest all this, to think…”

Ethan rested his elbows on his knees as he leaned forward.  His voice slightly above a whisper. “Dana, I came home and I heard from the landlord that you made the newspaper.  A man broke into our apartment and attacked you and you didn’t even pick up the phone to tell me.”

“It’s ok.  I’m fine.  I didn’t want to worry you.  My partner came in and …”

“Your partner.  I’m tired of hearing about your partner.  And that’s another thing Dana.  I called Ellen and she said you were with him at his apartment.”

“I was dropping off some paperwork.”

“At this hour?”

“Ethan, I’m not going to be interrogated like this.”

Ethan got up off the couch and held out his hand as an olive branch. “Look, it’s been a long day.  We can talk about this in the morning.”

Scully stood next to him ignoring his hand.  A feeling of impending doom boiling up inside her. “I can’t. I need to head into the office in the morning.  I have to meet…”

“Your partner, right.” He ran his hand through his hair visibly agitated and pacing, pointing his finger at her.  “You know what Dana, you don’t have to worry about it.  I’ve accepted the job in L.A. I’ll be out of your hair tomorrow and you and your new partner can go ride off into the sunset.”

“Ethan you’re being dramatic.” She reached out to grab his arm, but he brushed her hand away.

“Am I?  In the month that you’ve known this guy your entire personality has changed.  You might not see it Dana, but I have.  You don’t even know him, but you’re ready to risk your friends, your career, your time, and us.  I don’t know what hold he has on you, but you need to look in the mirror.”

“I’ve heard enough Ethan. It’s not as simple as you’re making it. It’s not about him, it’s about the work.”

“That’s fine Dana.  I’ll make it simple.  Come with me.  Live in L.A.,”  He said pleading at her. She could see he was holding back tears.

Her head dropped along with her voice. “I can’t do that Ethan, not right now.”

Ethan took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  He spoke carefully with an even tone. “Well then, when you come home tomorrow.  I’ll be gone. I really hope he’s worth it Dana.”

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@ms31x129 @season4mulder @baronessblixen @babygirlmulder1018 @muldermakesmehorny @kyouryokusenshi

[deflcresco]

Drabble: First Night (pt.2)

The room was silent after that. Neither Hibari nor Yashiro had anything to say to one another after this. & in all honesty, Hibari needed to process what he has just learned. He might have been absent for a near decade of her life, but Kagero was still his daughter & he loved her a lot. From time to time, the two of them would hang out together, nothing too elaborate, sometimes they’d sit at a cafe drinking coffee or the like. But those meetings were always fun & he enjoyed spending time with her & getting to know her better. Throughout the years he got used to her antics & silly shenanigans, almost to the point where he misses her presence when she isn’t around for a while.

This felt unreal. He couldn’t imagine her being in the hospital. To be in such a bad state that not even her mother could be with her, or see her for longer than five minutes. He doesn’t know the details, but this screamed BAD at him. The behavior of all the Kouga he has seen so far indicated that it was really that it was a very dire situation. Izumi came to him knowing that Mitsuki was at his apartment. More than just that, she told him to look after her. Normally, she would want him as far away from her as possible. To make such a request… It only meant that Mitsuki needed to be with him now more than ever. He will do just that. He will not leave her to battle this on her own, that’s for sure.

Yashiro was somewhat welcoming of him too. He didn’t get any of the usual disapproval he got from the man. Instead, he was speaking to him normally. The gravity of this situation is reflected on how he is being treated. He couldn’t feel any joy from that. He didn’t want this change to occur at the expense of his daughter dying. Kagero cannot die just yet. He didn’t want her to. He knows it’s very irrational but he couldn’t imagine life without her. She has a distinctive presence; when she is absent it leaves an empty spot. She cannot just be gone forever, not like this.

He wanted to ask Yashiro if they know the culprit. He didn’t. He reasoned that they must be on the case. They will not let anyone get away with something like this. To take an innocent girl & try to kill her… It was unforgivable.  He trusted that her family will not let it go. He would be asking a silly question with a very obvious answer. The two of them continued to sit in silence. Hibari didn’t see Yashiro use his phone, thus, he was surprised to see the door slide open & Izumi walk in. She didn’t look very pleased. Even more so now than she did when she visited him earlier. He wondered how she learned about this. No one had made the call as far he knows.

❝   You,  ❞   She addressed him. ❝   You were supposed to be looking after her.   ❞   She stood in front of the two of them, her voice low as not to disrupt her sleeping daughter, but there was enough anger in her tone to force them to listen to her.

❝    & you,   ❞   This was directed to Yashiro this time.   ❝   How could you let her walk into that room ?   ❞   Knowing that her daughter is dying was one thing, to actually see her in that state is a whole different story. Hibari understood why Mitsuki left that room as soon as she walked in. He agreed with Izumi, letting her go in there was a mistake. If it helps his case any, he didn’t know what was going on; by the time they were walking through the hospital halls he was certain that Yashiro was hospitalized. He was surprised to see the man well, then confusion took over as he wondered who could be in there that would make Mitsuki feel so much anguish.

❝    There isn’t anything I can do to stop her. She was already here at the hospital.  ❞   Yashiro was shifting the blame towards him.

❝    If she wanted to come here, there will be nothing I can do to stop her from doing so.   ❞   He cannot control her. If he didn’t agree to drive her where she wanted, he knows that she will leave & get there on her own. In all honesty, he preferred to be the one to drive her  here instead of risk her walking. She was not in the right state of mind & she’d only put herself at risk. He’d rather be with her & make sure she is safe rather than risk her being on her own. Right now, he didn’t feel that leaving her alone would be a good idea. While everyone was here—- He wants to be able to make sure that Mitsuki will be okay during this.

❝    Let me take her with me,  ❞   He told the parents.    ❝     After she wakes up, I’ll take her back to my apartment.   ❞   & give her his undivided attention for as long as she needs. It would also help alleviate some of their worries; Izumi & Yashiro don’t have to worry about her if she’s with him. They can focus on the hospital while he does his best with Mitsuki.

❝   You better be up to the task.  ❞    By now he was used to Izumi & her ways. One thing he is grateful for was that Mitsuki did not take after her. Well— She did, he can see now why his love is such a tyrant. Had he not been her boyfriend, he would certainly be on the receiving end of her Izumi-like personality. He was just lucky to see the other side of her which not many get to see.

❝   I will.  ❞   He reassured her.

Not wanting to impose for longer, he decided to leave the room & get himself a drink. Mitsuki would be up in a couple of hours so he had time to pass. He left the hospital & walked to the nearest cafe. Sitting on a table in the semi-empty building, with a hot cup of tea in front of him. He got his phone & wrote an email to his boss. He asked for a leave; he did not specify the length, he explained that there was a family emergency that requires his attention & he will need some time off to deal with it. He didn’t want to delve into details. He didn’t want to write that his only child was dying & that her mother is going through a breakdown as a result. It was a messy situation. A nightmare he never imagined going through.

He remembered an incident from long ago, back when he was sixteen years old. He asked Mitsuki out on a date. He wanted to take her to a festival & for the fireworks that would be on display later in the evening. He had heard of a special spot on a cliff just beyond a small forest. He wanted to take her all the way up there & watch the fireworks together. She wasn’t alone, a bodyguard was with her all the time & it made him feel awkward. It was as if they were not really alone. He wanted to take her hand & make a run for it, lose the bodyguard in the forest & get their privacy there.

‘This only works in movies, Hibari-kun,’   She told him.   ‘We will not lose them at all.’ Them… It was more than just the one he could see. To his surprise, she walked to the bodyguard & told him to let them get some privacy. They can scan the area for anyone suspicious but she wanted some alone time. Surprisingly, it worked. He took her hand in his & they walked through the forest together. It was dark, darker than he had imagined. He had a hard time knowing where to go. He hadn’t been there before, he only heard stories about the place. It took him an hour of roaming around cluelessly before he realized that they were lost.

When he told her that it took around fifteen minutes of walking before she gave up. There was a fallen tree log, it was a good spot for them to sit & rest at before continuing their way. He was nervous, he didn’t know the way back to the festival grounds so he was really stumped. It was then that she started to cry. Alarmed at the sudden outburst he put an awkward arm around her, trying to get her to calm down. In worst case scenario, search parties will be sent out for them & they’ll be found eventually. It wasn’t really that bad. He wasn’t sure mentioning the search parties will be of any help for her. Perhaps if he lied & said that he might remember the way back it would have a better outcome.

They were alone in a dark forest. The only light source was the colored lights of the fireworks lighting up the sky. ‘Look at that,’ He told her, pointing at the sky.   ‘They already started,’ If he can take her mind off of their predicament, they might be able to come up with a good plan. ‘Mhm,’  She wasn’t even looking up, her hands were covering her eyes & she was still crying. Had she not been serious about it, he would have chuckled. He was feeling less awkward so he pulled her closer to him. She did look up eventually. Her head was on his shoulder, the light of the fireworks reflected on her moist cheeks, looking at her, he realized that she was very beautiful right at that moment. His shyness momentarily forgotten, he leaned down & kissed her. It wasn’t what one would call a special kiss, it was somewhat clumsy yet it felt so good at that moment. When he pulled back he looked into her eyes ‘don’t be scared, we’ll get back, I promise.’ He said to her. She nodded, trusting him to get her back to civilization.

They stayed there on the log watching the fireworks until the display was over. He was glad that she seemed to be enjoying it, despite how she was feeling. At that moment, he found her to be really cute. He had often got lost with his friends. Sometimes they’d hop on the train & go to different places, getting lost was part of the fun. Mitsuki’s reaction was a first to him & he found it really adorable. They haven’t been dating for long, but it was long enough for him to know more about her. He made a list of the character traits he learned about her, adding more items to it even day.  For one, she doesn’t like it when things don’t go her way. She was particular about what she wants & she doesn’t like it when things aren’t working out for her. She’s spoiled for sure. He knows that it’s better not to upset her, to be the reason for her anger means that she will stay mad at him for a while. She is fussy, wanting things to be done in a certain way & not accepting any other way. Stubborn too, she doesn’t give up on anything or change her mind. Now, after this little disastrous romantic adventure, he can add crybaby to that list.

They enjoyed a moment of peace. Sitting close to one another & not saying anything. Just enjoying each other’s company. The moment didn’t last for long. Soon she was back to pouting. ‘I want to go home!’ He understood her frustration & he wanted to help her feel at peace. He was ready to suggest trying to find their way back when out of nowhere a woman clad in a dark suit came to their side. ‘I’ll get you home right away.’ She unnerved him. She would always be hidden somewhere, only showing up so suddenly scaring the shit out of him. He can never tell when she is around or not. He knows that she is always around Mitsuki, guarding her at all times… It’s better to assume that she is always close by despite being invisible.

He doesn’t know why this particular memory came to him. Sitting alone at the cafe, he couldn’t help smiling slightly at the memory. They did return to the festival grounds soon after that, & he learned never to take Mitsuki anywhere he didn’t know himself. Getting lost in a new place wasn’t a fun experience for her, it scared her. Life was much simpler back then. Their dating took a somewhat reckless turn when they were in their final year of high school & here they are now. His tea cup sat empty on the able. He looked at the deserted place & decided to go back to the hospital. A couple of hours have passed since he got here & he wanted to check on Mitsuki. She was probably awake by now & he wanted to get her out of there as soon as he could. He was grateful for the clear skies. Unlike that night she showed up, the sky was devoid of clouds which promised good weather. If all goes well, he might take her out for a short walk later on tomorrow. He knows she’s not going to be up to much, but he will try his best to make her feel better. The thought of losing Kagero isn’t easy on any of them, but Mitsuki’s pain is on a whole different level. It was precisely why he will focus on her for as long as she needs. He will not leave her alone during this time.

He knocked on the door before entering the room. Yashiro & Izumi were still there & Mitsuki was awake. Being awake after the shock she has experienced earlier only meant that she will still be remembering it now that she was alert. Izumi wasn’t in favor of her going to the ICU & he believes she’s right. Mitsuki was still upset. This time, Izumi was there to offer solace & help her find peace. She was crying again, this time she was engulfed in her mother’s embrace. He wished that she would find peace, & that she would do so soon. He knows that she is processing things still, but seeing her like this filled him with despondency. But this wasn’t about him, it’s about her & he needs to do all that he can to make her feel better.

❝  Why ?  ❞   He heard her say. Izumi didn’t answer. No one could answer this question. The entire situation was unimaginable yet here they are, all of them being trapped in a reality they didn’t want to be part of. Why would someone, anyone, do this ? Why hurt her to such a degree ? Why her, of all people ? Why wasn’t she getting any better ? If he would make a tentative timeline, he’d safely assume that when Mitsuki showed up, it was already done. Kagero was already at the hospital. In the time between that visit & now, there has been no real improvement in his daughter’s condition. He might not be a medical expert, but recovery should happen gradually… If she’s still unchanged from that day until now…

She cannot die. Not like this. It was unfair. She still had deadlines & some events she’s been planning for, she has her entire life ahead of her… It cannot be cut short just like this. Perhaps she needs more time to get better. Some people spend days, maybe weeks in intensive care before they start getting better. Her being there means that she is still alive... That is promising. He doesn’t know the details of what happened, or the types of injuries she sustained. He couldn’t think of how anyone would actually hurt her to this degree on purpose. Mitsuki & the rest of the family seem to know the details. He felt it improper to ask, so he wouldn’t. Besides, doing so would only make Mitsuki feel worse & the goal now is to make her feel better, if such a thing was even possible.

He didn’t interfere. He sat down on the couch where he was earlier in the night. It was already nearing six in the morning. Despite being asleep for the past few hours (not voluntarily, it was mostly because of the sedatives she was given) she was still very upset. He wondered if she will ever be okay if the worst was to happen. Hell, he wasn’t sure she will be okay during this time. If she keeps this up until there is an improvement--- It would be disastrous for her. This uncertainty, not knowing what will happen, whether things will take a turn to the better or the worst, it will take it’s toll on her. It’s already doing that. She hasn’t had a moment of peace since she came to his apartment, right after getting over the initial shock that almost shut her down. He was grateful that she came to him. In her state, she could have ended up anywhere. He knows that the upcoming days will not be easy. He will do his best to keep her away from coming here; this would not do her any good. Kagero wasn’t allowed any visitors & even if she was, Mitsuki seeing her in that state will be overwhelming for her. She will not be able to handle that situation.

The drive back to his apartment was silent. She was still somewhat groggy after the drugs. Besides that, she cried for a good while while she was embraced by her mother. That had wiped out whatever little energy she had in her. At one point after the IV was removed both Tadahiro & Ryosei showed up, both looking worse for the wear. This was hitting everyone so hard & no one could do anything to stop it. He wished he could do more than this; he felt helpless watching Mitsuki go through this without being able to do anything to somewhat ease her pain. All he can do is be there with her, offering what little comfort he can while hoping that she will pull through this somehow.

The situation was very uncertain & he cannot predict how Mitsuki would be acting like during this time. He will take it one day at a time, slow steps. He will try to get her to cope differently. Be it taking her out for walks or doing nothing in particular. Just watching something on TV or doing a trivial activity--- If he can keep her mind occupied with other things, she might be able to cope better. Right now, she doesn’t see anything beyond this current situation; her entire world is shattered. He doesn’t think he is equipped to build it back up again, but he can try help her with making her way through. Even if there is no light at the end of the tunnel, he will break down the walls & create an exit route if he has to.

[ckret2]

How to Stalk Your Ex on Social Media When He Doesn’t Even Know What the Internet Is

Sir Pentious-centric post-breakup Radiosnake angst fic.

Set immediately after the pilot episode. Technically a sequel to Cold Day In Hell but if you don’t want to read it all you need to know is that Sir Pent & Alastor were allies/friends/almost-boyfriends half a century ago, until Alastor declared he’d just been screwing around with Sir Pent’s head, destroyed all his airships, and ran.

Written to this prompt for @atomicmuffin:

maybe Pen, after the attack on the hotel, kinda lingering around, hiding, while he regenerates a bit since he's too weak to safely leave without his airship or most of his eggbois, and ends up peeking in through a window watching Al and the others, and kinda delving into his angsty feelings about that? 

I posted the first scene of this last night but now both scenes are done! Yaaay.

###

Sir Pentious could smell Alastor's cooking.

There was a breeze curling around the building near the crater that held Sir Pentious's most recently crushed airship, carrying the scents of meat and spices through the purpling twilight.

Oh, how he hated that. He hated the smell of Alastor's cooking.

He missed Alastor's cooking.

Sir Pentious shifted himself stiffly, muscles aching. He'd been flopped face down halfway out of the pit that had swallowed his latest greatest airship, his long tail noodled up in a fissure along the wall to keep him from slipping back down. His upper chest ached from being pressed to the edge of the pit for so long. He'd been half-unconscious for the past... oh... according to his pocket watch, an hour. He tucked his watch back into an inner jacket pocket, slowly dragged himself back on solid ground, turned, and sat on the edge of the pit, staring down into the darkness.

He supposed that wasn't quite the worst curb-stomping he'd received in the last fifty years, but it was probably going to rank in as the most humiliating. And from Alastor, of all people. Over half a century Sir Pentious had gotten by without getting wrangled into a fight with him! And the one time they crossed paths when Sir Pentious was already on the warpath and would have looked a coward and a fool if he'd turned and slinked away, it had to be when his airship was already damaged!

Would it have turned out any differently if his airship hadn't been damaged?

Maybe if he'd been able to power up his plasma cannon just a couple of seconds faster...

No. No, Alastor melted  into the shadows far too easily for that. Even if Sir Pentious's airship had been fresh out of the shipyard, he would never have landed a blow. He knew that.

If anyone asked, though—if anyone asked, he only lost because the prior damage made his ship malfunction.

What was Alastor cooking? Sir Pentious could smell onions and garlic. That did nothing to narrow it down. He'd probably been cooking since he'd dragged Sir Pentious's airship in the ground, hadn't he. One of those Cajun things that took half a day to cook. He didn't have any better ways to fill his time, Sir Pentious was sure.

The ground trembled slightly as Alastor's abyss began to close from the bottom up. Sir Pentious scooted back from the edge. So much for recycling the remains of his airship. He wondered if he could trick Alastor into giving him access to whatever dimension he'd sealed the wreck away in? Come challenge him again with a throwaway ship, have another one hiding nearby, wait until Alastor had trashed the junker and then use the reserve ship to tow away the remains of the first two... No, no. Too risky. Too labor-intensive. He'd just have to call this ship a loss. Alas, and it was the one with his new pipe organ.

If he didn't know better, he would almost suspect Alastor had something against organs.

The abyss sealed, leaving behind nothing but a jagged crack in the golden cobblestone road.

Okay. Time to take stock. What did he have. He had himself. He had his hat—good, he'd rather cut off his tail than lose his hat. He had a mess of Egg Bois in various states of disarray, from "visibly cracked" to "gently frying on the sidewalk." Only a single Egg Boi was conscious and up, toddling about checking on the other eggs—"Any other ssurvivors?" "Not looking good, Mr. Bossman." He'd lost his best airship, but he'd only lost one this time. Right after an extermination—good—anyone who might want to take advantage of his current setback would be distracted recouping their own losses. And he was... where was he.

He turned and gave the building he'd been threatening a proper once over for the first time since he'd approached it. Ten stories tall and its architecture included a train, an ocean liner, a carousel, and more bas-relief apples than actual windows. That was Luciferian architecture if Sir Pentious had ever seen it. And a hotel, no less? Had Alastor at last gotten sick of crashing on his friends' couches? Had he finally burned his last few bridges?

How long had he been staying here?

And why hadn't Sir Pentious heard about it before?

Frowning to himself, he pulled his pocket watch back out.

Sir Pentious liked to think he was a man of many sins but few vices. The only addictive poison he permitted himself was jealously stalking his exes. (And tea.) Alastor, despised though he was, was no exception. If anything, it was all the more essential for Sir Pentious to keep close tabs on the actions of the Radio Demon, chief among the threats to his eventual rise to power. His haunts, his habits, his friends, his foes—Sir Pentious knew every significant move Alastor had made in the last fifty years.

He didn't know a thing about this hotel.

He tapped on his pocket watch to unlock the screen, glided his fingertip around the edge until he highlighted the map application, and zoomed in on the spot in front of him. There was a little black box outlining the footprint of the building, but no identifying name attached. Either someone had been paid and/or threatened handsomely to conceal this location, or it was too new to show up on the map.

Sir Pentious squinted up at the building. It was an obvious Magne property with massive neon signs and arrows. It had dead trees, dusty windows, rust-eaten smokestacks, and missing shingles. It was neither covert nor new. What was going on, here?

For a moment, Sir Pentious was tempted to slither in the broken front door, find someone, and ask. What was the worst Alastor could do, crush a few more vertebrae? Big deal, they'd grow back. Sir Pentious had seen other people with Alastor, Sir Pentious could ask them about this place. Not the tall pink one. But one of the others.

But then, did Sir Pentious want Alastor to know he was so keen to find out about Alastor's latest distraction?

Sir Pentious clicked the crown of his pocket watch to return to the list of applications, scrolled around to the camera, and held the watch carefully by the edges of the case so he didn't cover the pink mechanical eye on the back as it focused on the mysterious building. A tap to the screen snapped a picture.

As he switched applications, he hesitated over one for a moment, considering calling for a ride share to his nearest safe house. Then he scrolled on. No. It would cost less to buy a plain black tea at the nearest coffee shop so he could wait for an Egg Boi to bring a car. Besides, too many ride share chauffeurs these days were depraved scoundrels who demanded fellatio in exchange for their services, and Sir Pentious was on the verge of being banned from using the service completely if he set one more car on fire.

He switched to one of his social media accounts, uploaded the picture of the mysterious hotel, and fished his stylus out of his watch pocket. He wove along the cobbled road toward the nearest drag of restaurants as he started scribbling out a query in the picture caption, asking for more information about the mysterious hotel. "If you're looting corpses, hurry up and grab what you want," he said distractedly. "We're leaving."

He was halfway down the hill before he escaped the scent of Alastor's cooking.

###

Sir Pentious was contemplating what was probably the worst cup of Earl Grey he'd ever had—it had cost more than a ride share, and he was still debating whether it tasted worse than a blowjob—when the Egg Boi said, "Wow, Boss! Look at this!" He held out a tablet.

Oh, where did he pick that up? Off one of the corpses, no doubt. Egg #23 knew he wasn't allowed to have Internet access, he was even more of a nuisance when he had steady access to those laser snuff films he was into. Sir Pentious snatched the tablet from him. "Give me that. You'd better not have dug up some pornographic filth—"

He fell silent as he saw his own photo of the mysterious hotel at the top of the screen—with a mind-boggling forty-one likes and nine comments. Was this his break into the social media big leagues?! He skimmed the likes to see if anyone important had noticed the post—his hopes jumped when he saw Vox's icon, before he realized it was just Vox's bot account that liked every post it could find—then read through the comments, looking for a way to take advantage of this new potential source of online infamy.

His ambition faded as he read through the comments, and had completely vanished by the time he clicked a link to a news article and watched the video.

So. The princess's pet project, was it? All the better that he hadn't destroyed it, he supposed. He didn't put too much stock in the Magne family—they were royalty, sure, and he'd grant them the due respect such a rank demanded, but they weren't his royalty, and he was angling to overthrow them—but on the other hand, he certainly didn't want to start a fight with them before he was ready to. He wasn't sure how Princess Charlotte's dear daddy would react if someone crushed her halfway house for repentant reprobates, and he wasn't eager to find out.

So much for the hotel itself. More intriguing to him was the fact that he'd found Alastor there.

Why?

Had he checked himself in some time after the princess's proclamation aired? Finally gotten sick of the pitiful little life he was living down here and decided to grovel in front of the Pearly Gates for absolution? Ha! Oh, Sir Pentious wouldn't be surprised if he was that bored.

He was always so pathetically bored.

But no—Sir Pentious was willing to bet that this was another one of his little phases. He did that, go through phrases—latch on to someone else's project for a few years in the desperate hope that it would amuse him, tie himself up in it so tightly it would come unraveled if he weren't there, and then either cut the strings and run or else tie up the person who had originally been running the project.

He held the leashes of quite a few little unwilling minions because he'd shown up to help them out, talked them into a deal they shouldn't have taken, and now he owned their very souls. (Sometimes Sir Pentious suspected that the main reason Alastor had backstabbed him so much more dramatically than his other former allies was because he'd never shook on a deal that would let Alastor control him.)

And yet, for all the minions Alastor was at liberty to command, didn't know what to do with any of them.

He never knew what he was doing.

That was just how he worked—although the word "worked" implied a basic level of functionality that Alastor lacked.

Project after project, distraction after distraction. Around the turn of the millennium, he'd spent all his time puttering between various nightclubs run by proprietors who weren't willing to admit the Roaring 20s were over. In the eighties, it had been that dotty little cannibal commune he'd tried to settle down in—hah—Alastor, trying to live a domestic life, he must have felt the ennui crawling across his flesh like roaches. Sir Pentious was pretty sure Alastor had spent most of the seventies trying to drown his boredom with bourbon. And in the sixties, his number one distraction had been... Sir Pentious. Sir Pentious and his "pet project" to take over Hell.

Just another one of Alastor's passing hobbies. Another toy to play with until it ceased to amuse him and he broke it.

And now his latest adopted project was Princess Charlotte's hotel, was it. How unfortunate for the princess. Alastor was as likely to try to enslave her as he was to simply pack up and leave in the middle of the night.

Sir Pentious had warned Alastor, hadn't he—that eternity was just going to drag on and on if he didn't start planning his future. Of course he hadn't listened. He'd probably never heeded a word Sir Pentious said, had he? What could a Victorian era has-been who's too weak to conquer Hell possibly know that was worth listening to. Hss.

Well, which one of them was throwing himself at every demon with an interesting idea that was willing to let him latch on, hm? Like a musician that hadn't produced a fresh album in decades but was still desperate to find a hot new artist who was willing to give him a "(feat. the Radio Demon)" credit on one track.

He wondered how long this distraction would last.

He rewatched the princess's proclamation, then started scrolling through the comments. He supposed it was admirable that someone was trying to do something about the annual exterminations, although he would have picked "find a way to kill the angels" as a higher priority than handholding a bunch of sinners through cleaning up their behavior. But then, she was the daughter of a fallen angel; maybe she had some sort of inborn instinct for things like redemption.

He didn't know. He'd never really fussed himself with all the theological figures wandering around Hell—sure, he could name them all, list off their ranks, their families and domains, their enemies and friends and allies and enemies and lovers and enemies, their political positions and tensions and ambitions—but their supernatural traits? Their celestial or infernal aspects? He'd never seen the point.

Most people he'd known who made a fuss over theology did so out of fear that they wouldn't meet the restrictive criteria to get into Heaven. Sir Pentious had never expected nor wanted to be anything but damned—and no matter which set of criteria you were going by, he'd been pretty much guaranteed his spot in Hell the first time he committed a murder and decided he didn't feel bad about it. There was that life goal sorted. So he'd had no good reason to obsess over the metaphysical side of the hierarchies of angels and demons. They were part of the local politics, that was all.

He wondered if a half-fallen angel could grant redemption to the already-dead damned. If so, he'd have to be careful to steer away from the princess and her hotel in the future. But he didn't know.

He wondered if Alastor knew. He might.

Sir Pentious's stomach twisted in a pained knot. He'd missed supper. Had he remembered lunch? He sipped his tea to try to stave off the hunger and wished he hadn't.

He reached the bottom of the comments, scrolled back up to reply to someone speculating on whether a porn star prostitute could really reform (Sir Pentious's opinion: some could, but he didn't think that one), and then started scribbling out a new comment mentioning that he was in possession of exclusive eyewitness evidence that the hotel's second guest apparently seeking a shortcut to heaven was no less a figure than the Radio Demon himself. Oh, he'd love to see what kind of attention that information drew.

A honk outside drew his attention. He glanced up, saw an Egg Boi waving through a limousine window, and said, "That's our ride." He posted the comment and passed Egg #23 back his tablet. "No pornography or I'm confiscating that again."

Egg #23 sighed. "Whatever you say, Mr. Bossman."

Sir Pentious uncoiled from around the legs of his chair, made direct eye contact with the barista, poured the remains of his cup on the ground—"Your tea sssuckss."—and slithered out the door.

He slid into the backseat, pulled the door handle shut with the tip of his tail, and tugged out his pocket watch again to send a message to the account that zealously posted location-flagged Radio Demon sightings (for the benefit of over ten thousand followers who were, by and large, eager to avoid him), alerting the account's anonymous manager of his latest discovery. Sir Pentious's claim wouldn't be posted without photographic evidence—that was their policy—but perhaps the tip-off would prompt them to send out someone to collect proof. The account hadn't been updated since late afternoon. It was obvious they'd lost Alastor's trail. Sir Pentious was keen to see them find it again.

With that business taken care of, he flopped his head back, pulled his hat down over his eyes, and sighed. He was tired and hungry. He only had until he got home to rest, though. As soon as he was in his safe house, he had to take inventory of his meager manpower and material resources, reorganize to shore up any new holes in his defenses, and make plans to start rebuilding.

Again.

###

If you enjoy the fic, a reblog or a comment would be deeply appreciated! Fic crossposted to AO3 here. If you’d like to drop me a tip, link’s in my description!

[volzaannir]

The 30 LDB questionnaire

So there was that 30 LDB questions ask meme floating around, and I decided to answer them all for the sake of character building and reference for myself skjfhksdjhf

Questionnaire below!

1. What is their background and backstory?

Signe was born in a small home in the Rift on the 9th of Evening Star, 4E 173, to Ragnar and Freyja, two Nords who abandoned their lives to be with each other and start a family. Ragnar (aka ‘Ragnar the Berserkir’) was an infamous mercenary in Skyrim, who would be hired through out the land and even some places beyond for his battle prowness and seemingly inability to fucking die. Freyja was an assassin for the Dark Brotherhood, an archer/mage type who was going to be chosen as the next Listener until she dropped all connections after meeting Ragnar.

She was raised a warrior and avid hunter by her father, and a novice mage and singer by her mother. Unfortunately, at the age of 6, a fire engulfed her home one night after sneaking out to climb trees. It killed both her parents and left a nasty scar on her face after some debris sliced it while trying to free the two. Signe was taken to Honorhall, where she was bullied most of the time by other kids and of course Grelod, some accusing her of starting the fire - even though she swears it was a dragon that had started it. They say grief can make a child believe many things.

At age 17, with only a few more months to go before getting kicked out of the orphanage, she encounters Brynjolf. He’s a few years older than her, and is on his own mission to prove that he’s a valuable asset to the Guild at such an age. She assists him in his little heist, and runs away to join the Guild.

At age 28, after a small mistake during a heist near the border to Cyrodiil, she attempts to cross the border to escape being caught. Of course this doesn’t work, and thus brings us to the events of the game!

2. What “class” do they follow (i.e. warrior, archer, mage, thief, etc.)?

She’s a warrior, archer, and thief! 

3. How do they feel about being Dragonborn- does the identity feel right for them and did they embrace it immediately? Do they consider themselves a true dragon?

At first, Signe took to it slowly, still rattled from the suddenness of it all. First Helgen, then needing to tell the Jarl, then fighting a dragon and absorbing its soul, then being yelled at by four old men at the top of a mountain, and being thrown into quests here and there for so many reasons. She takes to it easily and enjoys the bouts of praise here and there during the events of Dawnguard, but it’s not until after defeating Alduin that she realized how much of a toll it takes on her mentally. While the authority is nice, she’s still too humble to go about bragging about it to those who don’t know her off the bat. She wished she could have earned her reputation like her father, rather than becoming a legend overnight. 

4. At present, how are they perceived by the people of Skyrim? By the general population, and by different factions?

By the general public, she’s of course seen as a hero, but a hero that causes a little too much damage for what’s needed. Not to mention she’s chaotic, loud, disrespectful, sleeps around, and takes no shit. But they know she’s necessary.

She’s a constant contract by the Dark Brotherhood and Morag Tong, competition to fractions like the Comonna Tong and Summerset Shadows, and always pressured into joining the Companions. (She would, but they don’t offer a big enough thrill for her- not to mention the whole werewolf thing)  

5. How were they perceived before their Dragonborn identity became widely known?

She was a Thieves Guild member and Nightingale, so within the ranks she was looked up to and respected. Outside of the ratways, though, she was just any other Nord citizen; only few knew of her amorous adventures though, as she makes sure it’s kept under wraps.

6. How are they perceived by the major villains- Alduin, Harkon, Miraak, etc.?

Alduin: He sees her as he sees the LDB in game; an obstacle and threat he needs to eradicate.

Harkon: An asset that immediately turns into a threat when she refuses to help them.

Miraak: Similar to Alduin, but grows more and more frustrated with how skilled she is in her young, young age. 

7. How much do they utilize the power of Thu'um? Do they actively try to expand their inborn abilities through research and exploration? Or are they less invested?

Signe uses Aura Whisper like how we need to breathe to live. She uses it to see where she should either avoid or take caution of, as well as alert her followers where enemies may be! It helps for when she’s looting too, as she need to plan how to knock them out first. Signe doesn’t like to kill innocent folk. As for others, she uses Unrelenting Force mainly when she’s annoyed by something in her way, Dragon Aspect when the enemy is insanely powerful, and Storm Call when she needs a distraction! The Thu’um is useful, but she’s not heavily invested in it, until way later on in her journey after the events of Dragonborn.

8. If they were to invent a shout, what shout would they create? Bonus if you can come up with the words of the shout in dragon language.

It works similar or such to Dragon Aspect, but could like, literally turn you into a dragon for a short time. I thought since the DB has the blood and soul of a dragon, then with some effort surely they can call forth their soul to turn their flesh to match, right?

It would be a Shout containing some from of these words: Ofan (Bestow), Dov (Dragon), Slen (Flesh), Sil (Soul), Rii (Essence), Gron (Bind); I haven’t found an order that really ‘rings’ yet. 

Otherwise, it would be the name given to their dragon soul, like how you call to Odahviing. In Signe’s case, it would be ‘Volzaannir’: Vol (Horror), Zaan (Shout [as in yell, shriek, etc.]), and Nir (Hunt). All three words are reference to a barn owl, which is her pet/familiar, since they’re known for their horrific shrieking and astounding hunting skills.

9. Whether they are magical or not- if they were to invent a spell for their own uses, that does not already exist in Skyrim, what kind of spell would they come up with?

Conjure dragon familiar! A spectral dragon will appear to fight for you for 90 - 300 seconds.

10. Which factions are they aligned with? Including civil war sides, Thalmor, guilds etc.

Thieves Guild, Dawnguard (not active), and TECHNICALLY the Imperials even though she considers herself a neutral force who just wants this shit to end.

11. If they had a pet or magical familiar as in ESO (excluding the dogs in Skyrim) what creature would it be?

She actually already has one! It’s a barn owl named Hyl (Danish for ‘shriek’).

12. Which standing stone have they used for the longest and why?

Thief stone, since it levels up sneak and such easily. 

13. Dungeon delving- are they a fan? Do they do it for fun, or money, or just because of circumstance? Do they prefer Dwemer or Nordic ruins?

Signe did it in the past for the loot, and still kinda does, though after becoming Dragonborn it’s kinda become her daily tasks lmao. She’s more familiar with Nordic ruins, but Dwemer ruins are unique and fun to explore.

14. What is their personal favorite place in Skyrim- a town, hold, home, dungeon, or just a natural spot they happen to have a fondness for?

One is an area just above the Twilight Sepulcher, where you go to defeat the Guardian Bear in Kyne’s Sacred Trials; there’s a fairy ring and a shrine to Akatosh here, as well as a beautiful view!

Another one is where I also envision her old home being, before it was burnt down, as there are remains of a possible building there. It’s a little Northeast of Ivarstead, on top of a hill where you would meet a Whispmother.

15. What is their personal LEAST favorite place in Skyrim- somewhere that annoys them, or comes with bad memories, or otherwise?

Windhelm. It’s a beautiful city, of course, but the PEOPLE…. They’re just so awful and rude (Not including the Grey Quarter). Every time she’s there she always finds herself getting into a fistfight with some racist Nord asshole.

16. Where did they choose to live and what drew them there? Does it really feel like home?

She chooses to settle in Lakeview Manor, as it’s close to Riverwood - one of the only places Teldryn finds habitable, and she can agree. Although, she always finds herself missing the beautiful golden and red birch of the Rift. If she could have one of the homes from ESO in the Rift, she’d absolutely choose one of those. 

17. What’s their style- do they tend to wear armor and if so, what sort? Otherwise what’s their average day-to-day clothing?

Signe’s armor is an alteration of Nordic carved steel mixed with dragon scales/bones, and has a variety of rune engravings and patterns befitting a walking prophecy. Before being Dragonborn, she normally wore the usual Thieves Guild attire, or her Nightingale uniform. Her day to day wear is typically a comfy fitting tunic and pants with well worn boots, and her sleepwear is similar to a miner shirt, but longer and only the shirt.

18. Your Dragonborn is now an actual dragon- what do they look like? Do they possess any unique features or abilities?

OHHH YES I WAS HOPING FOR THIS KIND OF QUESTION.

Signe actually has a dragon form! But she doesn’t harness it till way later in the game, after all the main quests. Her Dragon Aspect form reflects some of it, however.

Her dragon form is called Volzaannir [see question 8 for details], and she’s what I would call a Crested Dragon; a dragon that is partially feathers, the end of their muzzle is beaked, and is a tad thinner to allow more fluid aerodynamics. She utilizes shouts that call upon more natural forces, or invoke fear/frenzy, or conjure a variety of types of thralls. (Storm Call is a common one, Animal Allegiance, Cyclone, Dismay, Drain Vitality, Marked for Death, Soul Tear, and sometimes Frost Breath if fighting head-on).

19. Which NPC have they killed and regretted it?

Signe doesn’t like to kill, at all. It stems far before she even joined the Thieve’s Guild, and was thankful that they valued that rule as well. But, just because she doesn’t like to, doesn’t mean she won’t; she has to survive after all, and that means killing when justified. 

She hasn’t regretted any of her intentional kills; however, she does mourn the loss of lives when they have become collateral damage. After a dragon attack, or rescuing travelers being attacked by bears, anything like that, there’s always lives she could not save in the pursuit of rescue. She often times feels survivors guilt - terribly so after Helgen, especially.

20. Which NPC have they killed and absolutely NOT regretted it (excluding the major villains)?

Ulfric and Mercer Frey.

Mercer was the first person she ever intentionally killed, driven near mad at the hurt from his betrayal. She squeezed his throat and held him under the water of Irkngthand, effectively drowning him slowly, eyes locked on his water-distorted face. The pure bloodlust she felt frightened her afterward, leaving her shaken and vowing to keep whatever that was under check.

She did not personally kill Ulfric, but she was the one who decided his fate in the end. When the Civil War is won, she summons Ulfric to death by Blood Eagle, and remains face-to-face with him until he dies - making sure her disappointment is the last thing he ever sees.

21. Do they worship any of the Divines, and if so, which do they have the strongest affinity for?

Kyne and Akatosh! (Or any name they go by in each culture). She mainly worships Kyne, feeling the strongest connection to her through culture, history, and soul.

22. Which Daedric Prince(s) do they end up most aligned to, if any? Which artifacts do they own and which do they actively make use of?

She aligns to Nocturnal majorly, thanks to being a Nightingale, and finds her to be surprisingly well-tempered and benevolent sometimes. Signe also finds herself more familiar with Azura, thanks to traveling with Teldryn most of the time - but she holds no judgement, and encourages worship if it brings others comfort or clearance.

While Nocturnal’s artifact, the Skeleton Key, is in its rightful place, she still holds the powers of Nocturnal’s Agents; typically switching between the Agent of Shadow and Subterfuge. 

23. Which non-Daedric artifacts/magical items do they make regular use of?

A Stahlrim bow, dragonbone arrows, dragonbone swords (dual wield, one has electrical damage and the other traps souls), and two Stahlrim daggers affectionately named Frostbite (frost damage) and Freezer Burn (fire damage).

24. How did they respond to Miraak and what do they feel about him? Do they regret killing him? Did they spare him?

She saw Miraak as a threat at first, obviously, but there is of course that melancholy feeling of wishing he wasn’t so power-obsessed… He is the only other Dragonborn she (or anyone, in the 4th Era) has ever met, and he could have helped her in her quests, in defeating Alduin, in teaching her how to live with these powers and their consequences - being a mentor. Signe had planned on sparing him, attempting to convince him to escape Apocrypha with her, to live a new life on Nirn… But in battle, when his mask falls off, she finally gets a solid glimpse at his soul through his eyes, and realizes his mind is too far gone to save. Too tortured, too desperate, too power-hungry. Death is the kindest thing she could give him, while still keeping Nirn safe.

25. Which of the Dragon Priest masks do they favor and wear the most? If the answer is Konahrik, pick the second favorite too.

Signe doesn’t wear the masks, as she feels there’s too much evil floating around in them, no matter how fuckin’ cool they look. She’s not against the Dragon Priests themselves, just that the history and power held within the specific masks makes her anxious and uncomfortable. If she were to create her own (and she does), then she would wear it.

26. Which follower(s) would they never go anywhere without? On a personal level, what is their relationship with the follower(s) in question like and why do they stick with them?

TELDRYN. SERO. He’s her partner in crime, the only one brave enough to be her damage control, and who's always been at her side at the worst of times… and still willingly chooses to be. Signe met him when she was delivering a letter to Glover from Delvin (well before the main quest, but after Dawnguard), and decided to rest a bit in the Retching Netch overnight before heading back to Skyrim. His stupid charm and humor was enough to convince her to let him tag along, and she’ll never regret it.

Not only does she find out later on that he used to be good - if not best - friends with her father, the two of them being infamous mercenaries for hire in their respective countries. They slowly fall in love, cliche I know, but trust me - after the shit they’ve been through and bond over, how could they not?

27. If your Dragonborn were an in-game boss fight, what would their lair be like? What enemies would help them in the fight (if any) and what quest might lead to another hero having to fight them?

Ohhhohohoo boy, this one’s a fun one. 

First off, her lair would be similar to ruins like Skuldafn, or the Blades headquarters, somewhere difficult to get to and holding this ancient aesthetic to it. Either that, or her very own plane of Oblivion, a pocket containing a strange mix of both Apocrypha, the Evergloom, and the Quagmire. A place of knowledge and wisdom and history that still holds unimaginable terror and secrets and madness. 

What could lead to battling her perhaps is due to how she devotes her life after the events of Skyrim; seeking to bring forth her dragon blood and soul forth to not only give her a dragon form, but extend her life as well, as she has an underlying fear of death. If she cannot go to Sovngarde and be with her parents due to her soul being promised to Daedric Princes, then the afterlife is not something she looks forward to. However, she did not anticipate the toll an extended life would take on her human mind. Perhaps Teldryn and Ondolemar passed away somehow and she can’t bring herself to take another lover, she can’t make friends because she knows she’ll see them die too, and dragon companions to not hold the same kind of compassion or humor or affection her fellow mortals could. 

She becomes reckless, often times falling into episodes of paranoia and madness, and people have noticed. Some worship her like the Dragon Priests in ancient times, but the others fear what she may be capable of. Signe may have holed herself away in that lair of hers, but the public still fears her power, and knows she was not meant to live as long as she has. Soldiers and mages and wizards and heroes alike are sent to grant her death, but are never successful, as her insanity and fear has brought her to sending dragons of all kinds after anyone who dares try and approach her with malice-intent. If your aura holds no hostility, however, you could be lucky and hold a conversation with a possible demi-god such as her; beware, as her dragons watch over your every move from the stone arcs and towers above.

She is the Last Dragonborn, and you WILL show her respect, even if it means getting on your knees and praying to her as if she were a god. And perhaps she is.

28. What are their greatest assets, both in terms of in-game skills and otherwise? What gave them the upper hand that allowed them to defeat Alduin?

Archery, dual-wielding, sneak, lock-picking, pick-pocketing, charisma/speech, and smithing have been the most helpful throughout her life thus far. As for defeating Alduin and Miraak and Harkon, though, it would have to be her resilience and determination to protect the life amongst Nirn. Without such personal strength and wit, she would have given up for sure.

29. What do they do post-Skyrim, once all the main quests are finished? What happens to them in the aftermath?

It’s tough for Signe to come to terms with the thought that technically, everything is over. The journey’s have made her an adrenaline junky, they’ve brought new nightmares, and there are fractions up the wazoo who still want her dead despite doing nothing to harm them. The Black Books and Herma Mora haunting her have caused her to act relatively ‘insane’ at some points; she’s gained too much of a reputation as a hero to really return to her Nightingale days; and being a mercenary isn't up her alley. 

Her overall dream in life was to just settle in a cottage somewhere in the Rift and carve wood and bones for a living, take up smithing and open an armor and weapons shop called “Helm of Awe”. But of course after having her life altered so intensely in such a short time, it’s taken its toll on her, and left her too restless to fully settle down. 

So, she takes her band of Merry Mer (Teldryn and Ondolemar lmao) and they travel all over, looting burrows and taking high-risk jobs. 

She also takes up researching and meditating on Words of Power, aiming to create a Shout that allows her to harness the entirety of her dragon soul - all the way to flesh. Signe also looks into ways to bring her dragon blood and soul more forward, less buried in her spirit, to lengthen her life more; purely for the sake of her Mer lovers, though there’s an underlying fear there too. [See question 27]

30. Are they proud of themselves? Do they see themselves as a hero?

She is proud, deep down, because she knows in the end it’s for the betterment and safety of the world. A hero? Absolutely. Signe may be humble in the present about her position, but not even the kindest person on Nirn could pass up the chance to brag about saving the world thrice over.

VERY IMPORTANT BONUS QUESTION: In their opinion, who is the best dog in all Skyrim?

MEEKO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[theholycovenantrpg]

CONGRATULATIONS, CLAUDIA! YOU’VE BEEN ACCEPTED FOR THE ROLE OF GABRIEL.

Admin Rosey: Wow - this was a terribly difficult decision to make. All the applications for Gabriel were so beautiful. But Claudia, have you no mercy? Gabriel has always held a rather special place within my heart simply because he is so unique unto himself, even among the entire legion of angels. You said it so aptly, but so cruelly: take an angel, give him everything but leave one thing missing. It’s a rather wicked script that one has to follow, isn’t it? But there is something terribly delicious about how this application doesn’t hold back on reading him right to his bones. You saw him for what he was: hunger, hunger, hunger. And you let us know that as well. The details, the small -isms that you gave him granted him such life that I couldn’t say no. Please create and send in your account, review the information on our CHECKLIST, and follow everyone on the FOLLOW LIST. Welcome to the Holy Land!

Alias

claudia

Age

24

Personal Pronouns

she / her

Activity Level

i work full-time but i’m always checking the dash or else staying up to date with plotting in the dms in between replies. and of course weekends are my most active times.

Timezone

gmt+10

Triggers

REMOVED

How did you find the group?  

following a bunch of the wonderful people who were involved in its creation

Current/Past RP Accounts

here

here

IN CHARACTER

Character

gabriel

What drew you to this character?

so gabriel was not the first character that sparked my interest and the aesthete in me is very much compelled to justify in metaphor (you know, the whole “there’s this japanese phrase i like: koi no yokan. not love at first sight but second sight. the feeling that when you meet someone that you’re going to fall in love with them. maybe not right away, but it’s inevitable that you will.”). the truth is, i came into thc very much wanting to play a sexy morally ambiguous antagonist and agent of chaos that could wreak havoc and plot death and destruction. admittedly, i had only skimmed gabriel’s bio when it was released.

there’s an ancient roman crying out for blood in the colosseum in everyone that will always be drawn to the dark and the delicious possibility of amorality, because good and evil lies on a spectrum and exploring the shades of grey in between is so much more interesting than delving into a character who positions themselves so firmly at either end and says no, this is me, this is what i am and my conviction will not waver. or, to quote another beloved symbol, idol, champion of the people, that believed so fervently in a cause that the martyrdom nearly killed him, “when the mob and the press and the whole world tell you to move, your job is to plant yourself like a tree beside the river of truth, and tell the whole world — “no, you move.””

it is hard to write good. it is hard to take a character that is so infinitely good and compassionate, someone who is motivated by these enormous, intangible concepts like love and justice and peace, and capture them in words.

how do you explain why gabriel loves humans? how do you explain how he still loves them, fights for them, protects them, when everything his brothers and sisters did to him was because the humans dared to love him back? it’d be like asking the question of god himself — why? you claimed to love humans above all and yet you gave the strength, grace and majesty of immortality and wisdom to the angels. they were your firstborn, and humans were the spoiled youngest child. the unruly, overindulged creatures that got away with everything, that sinned and yet were still worthy of salvation.

for most people, gabriel is the first angel they ever learn about. gabriel coming to nazareth, gabriel saying be not afraid as he explains how a human woman will be the genesis of the son of god. he is the first. and understanding why gabriel loves humans, as god did, perhaps even more, comes back to the beginning, too.

gabriel was created the incarnation of hunger. and i am literally obsessed with the concept of ‘hunger’ in it all its forms, literary, cinematically, poetically. it’s fascinating because it’s not a concept that belongs to either good or evil, it’s simply a force, a manifestation of pure instinct. but we so often associate it with evil, and even in the bible, too much hunger is condemned. you could argue that the seven deadly sins are simply just an extrapolation of hunger in its myriad guises. the idea that you could be made perfect — as all angels are — and yet be left with this gaping chasm inside you, this endless hunger, a hunger that demands to be fed and nurtured, sated with divine higher purpose, is like, my literary achilles’ heel. why does gabriel love humans? how could he not? he was made in their image, and they in his.

What future plots do you have in mind for the character?

THE SUN NEVER SETS ON THE HOLY LAND.

that thing i said about wanting to play a sexy character? well gabriel being the sun and the third arm of the governing body that rules over the holy land is extremely sexy. it’s a shame he doesn’t much care for it. oh, he likes the concept of being a key guardian of freedom and peace across the new world but power holds no sway over him. and ironically that’s what makes him so inherently powerful. gabriel was the natural choice for the sun — beloved by humans, martyred for his love and sacrifices for them — he’d already burned for so long, so quietly, in service of bringing justice to the world. but gabriel has never needed a title to serve. he was born a messenger, a soldier, he has never needed a crown.

and despite what they say, heavy is the head, it is a crown perfectly made for him. the sun — illuminating and all-consuming, the source of all life and light in the world — is all-seeing. all-powerful. gabriel learned at god’s side what it means to rule. and a messenger is not so different from a prophet, from an orator. when he speaks, the world listens.

gabriel is well aware that michael sees the tridium power as child’s play, and their brotherhood as a means to influence the tridium, and thus the entirety of the holy land. power feeds and power corrupts and the lack of it will drive people like his brothers to insatiable madness. gabriel used to play peacemaker amongst his brothers, always defending the mortals or softening the aftermath of their fathers’ worst outbursts. now, as the sun, he stands above them. it is not a position he ever campaigned for but he’d won it all the same by democracy. the angel of the people, the sun of the holy land. he’s never pressed his influence over his brothers, always careful to tread the line of how his title benefits them and advances caelum’s purposes — celestial beings have always done things in three, after all. do i want to see him flex that power and unleash the full weight of his influence and majesty and just go absolutely supernova ham? of course. but it will take more that some sibling bickering and infighting to spark that wildfire. i don’t know yet what that spark would be, whether it’s demons meddling in tridium business or some political shift in the paradigm, but gabriel is not someone you want to cross.

do not mistake his kindness for weakness. the sun gives life as easily as it can set it ablaze.

LOYALTY WILL BE THE LAST BASTION TO CRUMBLE.

now this is entirely dependent on the dynamic of the three, in particular whoever is elected as the stars, but i see the tridium as a wildcard amidst all the vacillating allegiances and power plays of the holy land.

gabriel believes in the true purpose of the tridium, he believes each faction is entitled to equal authority over protecting the peace and future of the holy land. a true system of checks and balances, a democracy that amplifies the voices of the weak and powerless and upholds the cause of the vulnerable and the oppressed. whether that’s in the political interests of azazel and the future stars remains to be seen.

from the very beginning, gabriel would have been vitally curious about azazel. his former sister, a fallen angel. it is not his place to forgive, but he forgives nonetheless, as god would have. if he was not a thing made of hunger, the way she was a thing made of desire, maybe he would have fallen, too. he, more than anyone, had the right to fall. but he didn’t, and she did, and she’s done quite well for herself in the millennia since. finding herself a new throne, new family, even a new brother to dote upon her. in spite of his instincts and the holiness that riots in his veins against the thought of colluding with demons, even under the new testament, he understands. he doesn’t blame her. so, i will leave this entirely tbd for plotting but i could see either a strange, inexplicable friendship between them or a playful, vicious dynamic with an underlying current of empathy.

in many ways the moon and the stars will be the closest people gabriel has to true equals. he is no longer purely archangel, he is other. he must represent the interests of all of the holy land. trusting them would be folly, but unlike the ages of old, the name of the game is no longer a zero-sum winner takes all scenario. if the peace fails, the world will crumble into bedlam. is it a doomed act, attempting to balance the three factions upon the scales of peace? perhaps. perhaps they are playing a losing game, betting against the house, delaying the inevitable. it would be one thing to manipulate the balance of power between them, feeding the poison of their faction into their governance. it would be another if any one of their factions actually won.

why did they call themselves the sun, the moon, the stars? because they are figureheads, above all. symbols of caelum, infernum, the holy land. their factions all believe them to be puppets, leverage for their own political hunger and thirst for power. they are not blind. if either of their sides emerges from an inevitable all out war situation, what will happen to them? crownless, purposeless, no kingdom left to rule. certainly not a kingdom that will be theirs.

azazel wants to be worshipped. gabriel wants to burn until righteousness has scoured all evil from the holy land. the stars will inevitably be someone equally chaotic. they’re all that stands between the holy land and desolation. it’s like the perfect office workplace drama set-up. i would like to see it.

HUNGER IS THE MOST HUMAN THING OF ALL

throughout time, gabriel has had his favourites. he’s his father’s son, after all. zacharias, mary, noah. if these were the ages of old, he might have counted revna among those ranks. if gabriel were not an immortal angel, this would be called having a friend. but because gabriel is who he is, he considers them more like wards. like he’s taken it upon himself to be their self-appointed guardian angel.

it’s lonely being an instrument of god, and now the sun of the holy land, like what do you imagine he does after a long day of work? relax? of course not. so having a friend is nice. and having someone he can talk to, free of all the baggage and weight of being who they are, is like a glimpse of the peace he hasn’t known since before he had wings.

with revna, as with every mortal he had ever taken under his golden wings, he swallows any thought of just how mortal they are. how short-lived. in a blink, she will die. in another, her name will be forgotten, nothing more than a memory imprinted in a lonely angel’s mind. he tries not to think too much about mortality, or the whims and follies of mortals, the lengths they will go to in the name of survival that he has never dreamed. their freedom is predicated on living long enough to taste it. is it such a crime to want to live? for all their limitless powers and immortality, no angel and demon will ever know what that feels like — the sheer, visceral incandescence of burning so fleeting but so brilliant that to die is nothing. to live is the ultimate choice.

also… their powers are literally antithetical to each other. revna creates reality for all the senses, and gabriel deadens them. hello, let’s talk about that!

i’ll keep this brief or else i’ll spend days spiralling into interesting tangents and possibilities but other than the archangels and select few higher-ranking angels are aware of his powers. they think he doesn’t have any. to reveal this aspect of himself, a bearing of something like his true self or maybe even a soul, would be very spicy. in case anyone needs a reminder that all angels are terrifying and just because gabriel is pretty and warm like the sun, you shouldn’t believe he is anything less than terror carved into the sublime.

SO THIS IS HOW LIBERTY DIES. WITH THUNDEROUS APPLAUSE.

this is the darkest timeline plot where i throw a dice just to see where it lands. i don’t see gabriel deviating too much from his course, because he is the tree (planted by the river, if you remember the earlier quote), and he will destroy himself before he has to bend or break beneath the whims of external chaos.

of course, it’s fun to the think about the hypotheticals so i’m going to do that. if the tridium falls, where does that leave gabriel? and to whom will his allegiances lie? if michael or raphael are the cause, would he stand beside caelum all the same? gabriel loves humans because he wants to; he loves his siblings because they are his blood and bone. rip to the angels but you and the mortals are not the same.

he’s also seen how the holiness of the angels have been twisted and warped over time, through countless wars and inimitable suffering, yes. but they’ve changed nonetheless. some amongst them are closer to their fallen brethren than anyone would ever dare to admit but gabriel sees all. he was the angel they left to rot in the farthest corners of heaven, he was the one whose wings were torn, not by enemies of heaven but by his own brothers. and he did not fall. so either gabriel is made of stronger stuff than all the angels or he is the dumbest of them all. it’s very likely both. his faith in the existence of the angels is resolute, unwavering after all this time. his righteousness has burned for a thousand years and it will burn a thousand more until the sun swallows everything and all things cease to exist. if he has to turn against brother and sister, as they did with him, and unquestioningly at that, then he will.

he has sworn to smite any creature that will strike down an innocent before him, and whether angel or demon, it’s a quest that he will pursue to its ruinous end.

Are you comfortable with killing off your character?

yes, preferably by going supernova in a blaze of gory and carnage.

IN DEPTH

Driving Character Motivation

it all comes back to hunger, baby. let’s do this as a thought exercise. imagine god in his build-a-bear workshop for angels creating gabriel like he’s pandora’s box:

take an angel, give him everything but leave one thing missing.

don’t tell him what it is.

teach him the hole inside him is called hunger and that hunger is love, hunger is sacrifice, hunger is knowing that the kingdom of heaven is empty and god is not enough.

take an angel, give him hunger, and then wonder why he becomes more human than human.

gabriel is driven by the insatiable wanting in him to do good. i will note that it is, in a fact, a want and not a need because this in itself is the thing that distinguishes him from his brothers. in a way, falling in love with humanity was an act of free will, and thus an act of defiance. god wanted him to protect his children, yes, but he had never intended for him to enjoy it. he had never foreseen that gabriel, filled with compassion and thirst for justice, would come to empathise with the humans. he never could have imagined that creating an angel out of pure hunger could make him more akin to human than divine. and that was god’s mistake. it’s the mistake of anyone that looks at him and sees weakness — why would a creature so powerful deign to care for humanity? why should he care if they live or die, or wage war or hurt each other? — they imagine that his relentless pursuit of a better world is because he was made for it. no, gabriel chose this world. he chose to strike down god and tear his throne down with his teeth. he chose remake the world better, brighter, braver.

and as god will tell you, beware any that dare stand in his way.

Character Traits

INCANDESCENT — there isn’t really a word that captures gabriel’s essence other than in terms of sunlight and burning. being near him is like turning skywards and feeling of the sun on your face. he is radiant, and charismatic and magnetic, and it ignites a sort of hunger in you to be close to him, to listen to him speak, to tell him everything about you and answer any question he asks, if only to be in his presence for a little longer. to be under the shade of his attention is like being pinpointed at the center of the universe. it’s gratifying, and incredibly intoxicating, being given the sole focus of one of the most powerful beings in the holy land. for a moment, you are the one, and everything else falls away into shadow. but of course, reality snaps back and everything and everyone is simply whirling around in orbit of gabriel, the sun.

COMPASSIONATE — before he was the sun, he was the archangel of the people, the guardian of humans and the champion of god’s most beloved children. out of all the angels, gabriel was the one who took pains to mean it when he said be not afraid. he wore their skin and learned to smile like humans — with the eyes, not just with the mouth — because it would comfort them instead of scare them. as a former messenger, gabriel’s also an excellent listener. he gives excellent advice, too, being naturally sympathetic to the plights and suffering of anyone he meets. he hates injustice and wrongdoing and if it’s in his power, he’ll do anything to help you rectify your circumstances. he’s a very giving person, and despite his various duties and responsibilities, he’s willing to go to the ends of the earth for someone if he believes it’s a cause worth serving.

SELF-RIGHTEOUS — the other side of the embodiment righteousness coin. because when you have a creature as all-powerful and driven as gabriel is, his morality is absolute. there is no room for grey or doubt in the eyes of the self-proclaimed moral compass of the holy land. good and evil lie on a spectrum but gabriel will play the trinity himself if that’s what it takes: judge, jury and executioner.

GRACIOUS. UNYIELDING. SPITEFUL.

In-Character Para Sample

Heaven is cold, if you could believe it. There are places in the kingdom of God where the sun holds no dominion. No, everything here is ruled by and under Him. His omniscience and omnipotence is all. His kingdom is coldest where light shies from the darkness, held at bay by the divine liminality of here and nothingness. You cannot define a space that is simply nothing, simply an absence. An abyss would be too poetic a word for it, this black hole spinning ad infinitum into the dark, soaking up every molecule of anything that could be constituted as being. It is a nothingness. It is a forever of nothingness.  

This is where they keep their prisoners.

If you imagine God to be cruel, consider for a moment what he does to his own children.

It could be a month, it could be a millennia, that has passed since they cast him into the shadows of Heaven and left him here. Not to rot, or decay, but to exist; the cruellest punishment of all. Suspended in a vacuum of seeing, feeling, hearing, touching, tasting, a mockery of his own abilities. In the realms of hell, they might call this purgatory. The architects of Heaven would never deign to give a place like this a name.

Gabriel counts seconds and minutes here and there to pass time. A mindless, thoughtless exercise that intrudes upon the endless, desolate stretch of infinity. It keeps him from thinking about his wings and how he might never fly again.

There is no air here to fly, to surge up and taste wind between his feathers. He’s thankful for it — perhaps the only godforsaken grace he’s been granted, a pitiful stroke of thoughtless mercy — if only because it means he cannot attempt it. He thinks if he were to try, wings screaming for clemency, searing fire along his back and down his chest, and fall, that would be the last of him. And if there is nothing left of Gabriel, what would that make him? A creature of divine agony and writhing torment. A monster better suited to hell. If he could claw his way out of the unseeable and untouchable bars of this prison, perhaps he would see that Lucifer had been right.

God was weak. He deserved to be struck down. He deserved to have everything taken from him, as he had taken everything from them.

In the embrace of the void, Gabriel oscillates through every emotion at his disposal. Humanity taught him a great deal about feeling. How hatred and loathing simmered like poison in the blood; how the blaze of fury clawing up your throat could incinerate reason and logic; how love was a form of magic, a trace of stolen divinity pressed between the lips of mortals, enveloped in bodies and hands and kisses. Gabriel did not understand love the way humans did. His love was a consuming thing, a devotion like worship. Like self-immolation. He loved God because that was what he was made for. He loved his brothers because he fought and bled for them, because they were carved from the same grace and streak of lightning crackling through the heavens.

He did not know if he loved God the way humans loved him. They had never seen him, never felt his magnanimous smile or the great vastness of his presence, and yet they believed. They believed so fully, so viscerally, they would die for him anyway. They lived their tiny, fleeting lives grasping for the sky, dreaming and hoping of one day seeing him.

Gabriel saw God all the time, but his love was a necessity to him like existence. It was not a choice.

Did that make it lesser? Was it less true because humans chose and he did not?

Sometimes, he sits here, floating in the forgotten recesses of Heaven’s prison, and wonders if maybe God had truly made a mistake. Why give the angels everything, but free will? Why give the humans nothing and only free will? It was inexplicable, the ultimate riddle wrapped in an enigma, obscured by God’s will and word, that the angels had been asking since Adam and Eve and the garden.

In the time he floats, wavering between ire and despondence, rage and bitterness, he thinks he finds the answer. — The reason why God loved humans above all. The reason why he’d chosen them, blessed them, forgiven them.

Humanity was given the choice. And they had chosen God, in spite of everything.

If he had granted the angels the same freedom, would they have chosen Him?

Extras

PINTEREST.

[ellynneversweet]

⭐️?

In reference to this post, which it took me fucking ages to find again. Thank you! And I’m so sorry for taking so long to reply — I realised that what I wanted to talk about was what I was in the middle of writing, and then I couldn’t find the original post FML.

For my free choice, I’m going to carry on about everything that gets broken (so far) in A Pillar I am of Pride, and why including literal babies as characters in fic is real fucking hard (ie they have next to no character or plot agency), so without further ado, may I present:

Stains and Spills and Smashed Pots, Oh My!

Right, so, Pillar started out as something along the lines of ‘five times the Darcys and the Rushworths had dinner together, and one time they didn’t,’ but because I am bad at sticking to a plan, it evolved into something slightly looser, and then I decided what I really wanted to do was write a something with a very formal and elaborate grammatical structure that was, on the face of it, about a bunch of posh, mostly dignified adults having a series of dull and unpleasant parties, and smuggle in a series of smutty jokes and wink-wink-nudge-nudge moments about which of the characters are getting it on (or failing to) with whom. To that end, everything I can think of gets to be a metaphor, and, by the way, looking back I’m slightly pissed that in the opening scene I missed a trick and wrote the Darcys buttering toast instead of muffins.

So far the list of smashed, stained, and broken items goes:

Item: Mr Darcy’s ornamental orange tree in a chinoiserie pot, and (nearly) his gigantic hallway mirror.  Damage: the former is tripped over by Mr Rushworth while blind drunk, and the latter he catches himself on. All of this is scene-setting ‘rich people showing off’ decor, and what this does on a literal level in-fic is aggravate Elizabeth and Darcy, who do not appreciate their stylish, comfortable home being smashed up by an oafish guest. On another level, it’s building on canon!Darcy’s associations with gardens and gardening, being someone who creates and produces within the community. On the jokey metaphor level, orange blossom is associated with marriage, and (smashed) mirrors with bad luck. The Rushworth marriage isn’t going to last, and they’re going to cause some stress to their married neighbours.

Item: Elizabeth’s evening outfit, and probably her dignity. Damage: stained by leaky breasts as a result of startled-awake-and-crying Darcy baby The cherry on top of the ruined evening. Elizabeth spends the evening watching half her guests delving into a previously unknown family feud and in the process accidentally insulting the other half, then finds out her husband is, unexpectedly, completely wasted (along with five other increasingly-less-decorous gentlemen, two of whom are her overnight guests while the others are theoretically responsible for getting their female family home safely after dark in an city and era not known for being particularly safe) and ends up trying to resolve everything in the middle of a wardrobe emergency while comforting a distressed baby. On the metaphorical level, the point is this: everyone’s body is betraying them. The resident drunks are telling, or at least alluding to, deep dark secrets, and generally making smutty jokes, and Elizabeth, who is trying very hard to be Mrs Darcy v1 (dignified society hostess with the mostess) instead ends the evening as Mrs Darcy v2 (frustrated, upset and hormonal young mother).

Item: Mr Bennet’s letter to Elizabeth, in which he probes her opinions on Maria Rushworth and Henry Crawford. Damage: squirted by breastmilk when Darcy toddler picks a fight with Darcy baby during breakfast. This part is where I got stuck for ages. The Rushworths (Mr and Mrs) have seriously offended Elizabeth, who is a champion grudge holder, but she needs to continue to be around them on some level without overtly influencing the overarching Mansfield Park plot, in order for the fic to progress. Maria in particular has insulted Elizabeth’s parenting, so it makes sense to bring the children in. Only problem is: they’re babies. There’s a limit to what you can do with characters who are babies. In this case, they get to be useful metaphoric sounding boards for the actions and beliefs of the adults around them. Elizabeth is in this scene (and the fic more generally) meant to be set up as Maria’s foil. Elizabeth has a successful-by-regency-standards marriage, which means money, respected social status, and production of a (male) heir and spare. That she gets on with her husband is a cool bonus. So, on the metaphoric level, the kids are representative of the key regency gentlewoman KPI: legitimate fertility (and, by extension, legitimate sexual activity). Elizabeth has children, Maria doesn’t (yet), which puts Elizabeth up a peg on the social pole. Also, Mansfield Park is, among other things, heavily focused on siblings fighting with each other and older siblings in particular fucking things up for their younger siblings. The Darcy kids are having a playful wrestle, not trying to destroy each other’s lives and inheritances — the worst that happens is that Darcy baby gets his breakfast interrupted — but it’s a chibi reflection of the Bertram and Crawford siblings arguing with each other. On a jokey level — a bit of stray bodily fluid gets squirted onto a sheet (of paper), and literally stains Maria’s name. It’s crude, but hey.

Item: Broderie Anglaise table runner. Damage: ripped as a result of Darcy toddler playing racetracks on it with a toy horse. The table runner was originally Elizabeth’s sleeve, but that got changed because it didn’t quite flow, scene-structure wise. Darcy toddler is busy practising being a gentleman’s heir, which for a three year old in a century where hotwheels haven’t been invented yet, means playing with a toy horse. This carries on from the previous two incidents, but it basically boils down to Darcy toddler (and absent Darcy baby) being physical, living proof of Elizabeth having a sex life. Ripping a bit of white lace with a miniature Trojan horse is, again, probably a bit crude, but it is meant to reinforce the previous points made about married (prospective) mothers whose bodies conspire to produce proof of just what(/whom) they’re doing.

Item: baby rattle. Damage: Darcy baby throws it out of his pram, and eventually has his toy-chucking privileges taken away by Elizabeth after it gets dropped in something nasty. Small babies like to drop and throw stuff, which, I am assured, is a normal part of child development that works around concepts like figuring out how their hands/gravity work and engaging in trust exercises with their carers. Darcy toddler — Edward — and Darcy baby — Richard — are pretty deliberately named after Elizabeth’s decent, respectable Uncle Gardiner, and Darcy’s witty and sensible bestie/cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam, who got the standard fandom first name this time round. Darcy baby takes after his (wilful) mother. In canon, pre-fic, Elizabeth Bennet, country girl next door, does a fair bit of damage by failing to consider the consequences of her actions. Obviously, at this point, Darcy baby is...a baby...and a toy accidentally thrown into a pile of horse manure is not, say, a ruined housemaid or pile of gambling debts, but grown up Richard Darcy, wealthy and charming second son of a very important family, exists in potentia as the sort of problem young man that turns up over and over again in Austen (George Wickham, Tom Bertram, Henry Crawford etc). His parents, who are all too aware of what it means to let a man in that social position regard himself as untouchable, are making a point of teaching both their sons that their tiny baby actions have tiny baby consequences. Which leads to 6 and 7:

Item: A red ball. Damage: the ball, offered by Mary Crawford after Richard has had his rattle taken away, meets the same muddy fate. This whole scene was structured around Mary getting to say ‘boys will be boys.’ Mary Crawford is a perennial fave of mine, but I do have one problem with her, and that is her blaming Fanny for Henry’s part in ruining Maria’s life. Mary, who has just been asked not to encourage Richard throwing his toys, goes ahead and does just that. She’s been raised with Henry, and it shows — she sees nothing wrong with indulging privileged kids and encouraging thoughtless behaviour. Darcy baby here also serves as a stand-in for his adult namesake, Colonel Fitz, another second son, whom Elizabeth is considering attempting to throw together with Mary. Mary is playful, charming, and fascinating, but possibly not very reliable. And, of course, because the original sin metaphor is inescapable in western culture, the toy she offers in this show of defiance is red, round, and chewable.

Item: Elizabeth’s redingote. Damage: drooled upon by Darcy baby In keeping with the Elizabeth-as-Maria’s foil theme, Elizabeth suffers a (very minor) public disgrace, and her various female companions attempt to address it. Georgiana Darcy  suffers an acute case of fremdschamen, and immediately informs Elizabeth of the issue before attempting to fix it but becoming overwhelmed, Anne Wentworth actually does fix it quietly and without a lot of fuss, Julia Bertram is completely ineffectual, and Mary Crawford, after ignoring what was going on right in front of her eyes and letting things progress past where they should have been, tries to cover it up by using the gentleman culprit as a shield, and relying on him to do something he is absolutely not going to do, ie, sit still (Not suggesting that Darcy baby is at fault or malicious — he’s just the unfortunate teething stand-in for Mary’s complicity in adult!brat Henry’s bad behaviour).

[cryptidcalling]

A collection of songs that describe and inspired Wren (lyrics included) that’s actually just me talking about why I like these songs so much.

First, the song that inspired me to make this list, There Beneath by Oh Hellos

There beneath the willow tree I learned a lot about the way of things I learned that everything (the wind, the leaves) has breath inside They were pointing ever east To see the ever-turning aeon cease Their wills were ever bent on waiting with all their might I know (I know) I know this There is beauty in the way of things There beyond the palisade I saw the morning lead a cavalcade They made a marvel of a display And it made me cry 'o lai' O lai (o lai) O lai lord There is beauty in the way of things

I think this song best describes Wren’s mindset on nature. Wren is a man who finds beauty in nature’s smallest cracks and crevices. But he didn’t always think that. As he’s grown he’s felt that connection grow deeper and deeper, from a thing that makes him happy to a thing he can’t survive without. He feels connected to nature and the planet and the whole ecosystem around him. This isn’t just a forest or a mountain or a flower, it’s a part of his home. He shares this place, and he thinks that’s beautiful. 

I think my favorite verse of this song is the last one. I tend to interpret these songs different from a lot of people, but to me it’s describing how in the early hours of morning the sun rises over the world, and that sunlight lays claim over man made things, making them a part of the world even when they wren’t made by the world. 

--

Second, In The Woods Somewhere by Hozier 

My head was warm My skin was soaked. I called your name 'til the fever broke.

When I awoke The moon still hung. The night so black that the darkness hummed

I raised myself. My legs were weak. I prayed my mind be good to me.

An awful noise Filled the air. I heard a scream in the woods somewhere.

A woman's voice! I quickly ran Into the trees with empty hands.

A fox it was He is afraid. I spoke no words, no sound he made.

His bone exposed His hind was lame. I raised a stone to end his pain.

What caused the wound? how large the teeth? I saw new eyes were watching me.

The creature lunged. I turned and ran To save a life I didn't have.

Deer in the chase There as I flew Forgot all prayers of joining you.

I clutched my life And wished it kept. My dearest love I'm not done yet

How many years I know I'll bear I found something in the woods somewhere.

This song takes a very sharp turn from the first one. It describes Wren’s other relationship with nature, a more complicated one. I’ve discussed Wren’s fear of going missing before, and the way missing persons cases make him feel afraid and guilty. As much as he loves nature, Wren is terrified of becoming one of those people, lost and alone in the woods, eventually dying there as all their friends and family give up on them. 

Wren is helpful by nature, and sometimes that helpfulness makes him do things that he hadn’t ought to for his own well being. Therefore, it would be incredibly easy for Wren to be tricked by something like this. A creature that hurts things and then waits for people to come investigate. He would also be easily duped by creatures that can mimic sounds of screaming or begging to lure humans out to see. Those kinds of creatures particularly scare me, because to mimic those sounds they have to have heard them. Most likely those are the cries of their previous victim. Wren could become that next voice someday if he’s not careful.

I really love this song because it manages to grip something deep inside of me. It makes me feel afraid, even when I’m nowhere near a forest and I don’t believe in monsters. The whole tone and atmosphere applies to the primal human fear of being eaten alive. It’s one of the most common ways to die in nature, being killed and eaten for food. Yet to humans it’s a terribly gruesome and feral death.

--

Third, The Ground and the Knee by National Park Radio

I'll call my brothers you tell our mothers Too late for the ground and the knee You and I will be

Always together we're closer than ever Connected by our misery Now that I can see

You hold my hand I'll lead you through Keep looking up the skies are blue And when I stumble when I stall I know that you'll be there to break my fall

I made a decision to make an incision And give you a piece of my heart You and I just are

Forever under the spell and the wonder Of finally finding someone Can you feel the sun

You hold my hand I'll lead you through Keep looking up the skies are blue And when I stumble when I stall I know that you'll be there to break my fall

Some they try to run away Forced to live another day Without someone to share their pain

Some they lose the one they love Try to blame the one above For all their troubled selfish ways

But I will never run away I can not live another day Without someone to share my pain

And if I lose the one I love I can not blame the one above For all my troubled selfish ways

You hold my hand I'll lead you through Keep looking up the skies are blue And when I stumble when I stall I know that you'll be there to break my fall

This song best describes Wren’s relationships with people. He’s trusting and loving, and when he truly cares about you he’ll trust you with his heart, even those who don’t deserve it. Because of that he’s quick to take blame when things go wrong, but also quick to help and support others when they need it. He just wants the people he cares about to be happy. He stays optimistic even through bad times, saying to keep your head up and look up and toward blue skies and sunny days. However, he can’t do that without people in his life to share that optimism with. He needs people to spend time with, because when he doesn’t have them he can delve deep into his own loneliness. This tends to get him worrying about the the stuff from the last song.

--

Fourth, Get Back Up Again by Anna Kendrick (Yes the one from Trolls)

Looking up at a sunny sky, so shiny and blue and there's a butterfly Well, isn't that a super fantastic sign It's gonna be a fantastic day Such marvelousness It's gonna bring, got a pocket full of songs that I'm gonna sing And I'm ready to take on anything Hooray! Some super fun surprise around each corner Just riding on a rainbow, I'm gonna be okay

Hey! I'm not giving up today There's nothing getting in my way And if you knock knock me over I will get back up again, oh If something goes a little wrong Well you can go ahead and bring it on 'Cause if you knock knock me over, I will get back up again Whoa oh oh oh oh, get back up again, whoa oh oh oh oh oh

I'm marching along I got confidence I'm cooler than a pack of peppermints And I haven't been this excited since I can't remember when!

I'm off on this remarkable adventure Just riding on a rainbow What if it's all a big mistake What if it's more than I can take No I can't think that way 'cause I know that I'm really, really, really gonna be okay

Hey! I'm not giving up today There's nothing getting in my way And if you knock knock me over I will get back up again, oh If something goes a little wrong Well you can go ahead and bring it on 'Cause if you knock knock me over, I will get back up again

Whoa oh oh oh oh, get back up again, whoa oh oh oh oh oh Whoa oh oh oh oh And if you knock knock me over, you knock knock me over I will get back up again

So this one is also a big difference from the other songs. It’s not a folk song or foresty sounding or whatever you’d like to call it. However, this song is VERY Wren. He’s optimistic, to the point where someone could say that it blinds him to the bad reality of certain things. He doesn’t let that stop him, though. For Wren, every day is a great day until proven otherwise which is very hard to do. He lets that optimism be infected to others, helping cheer them up and helping them see the good in things.

[tmarie82]

Best Christmas Ever

Pairing: Damien x MC (Camille Park)

Book: Perfect Match (Future)

Word Count: ~2,300

Rating:  PG

Author’s Note:  Camille Park is definitely my spirit animal … the girl loves the holidays, enjoys a good pun and she has excellent taste in Damien men.  This is a little fluffy holiday fic that also documents a very special occasion for Damien and Cami.  I hope you enjoy. 😚

This also is my first submission for @dancetothestoriesinyoursoul’s wonderful idea for Fluffy Friday and fulfills a very old fic request.

Please let me know if you would like to be added to my tag list.  You can find all of my fics in my Masterlist on my homepage.

~~~~~~~~~~

“A little to the left … no, too far!” Camille spouted out commands to her live-in boyfriend, eliciting a muffled groan of frustration from Damien as he adjusted the tree on its base in their tiny New York apartment living room.  “Okay, steady … perfect!” Camille bounced up and down excitedly clapping her hands when Damien shifted the tree to just the right angle, centering it perfectly in the corner of their soon-to-be extremely festive room.  “Ah, it looks great, D!”  She sidled up against his side when he finally stood upright to observe his handiwork, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as he admired the seven-foot fir tree he’d just lugged up three flights of stairs.  

“Yeah, it doesn’t look half bad.”  He released a long exhale of relief, thankful to finally have a moment to relax after their strenuous morning.  Although it was still November, Camille always insisted on beginning their Christmas preparations on the Saturday following Thanksgiving.  So the pair had woken up at 6am to drive to the Christmas tree lot just outside the city (thankfully making a pit stop at the coffee shop to get caffeine for the extremely groggy non-morning person Damien first), then spent over an hour marching up and down the rows of freshly delivered fir trees until Cami found the “perfect one.”  After trekking back into the city with the tree fastened to the top of Damien’s car Griswold-family-style, carrying it up to their apartment (with little help from the petite Camille, but don’t tell her that!), then twenty minutes of situating the tree in their living room … well, it wasn’t even lunch time yet and Damien was already exhausted.  While he thought Camille’s extreme affinity for the holiday season was adorable, he sometimes missed the days when he had been able to enjoy her holiday spirit as an observer and not a key contributor.  

“Yes, it really does …” Camille beamed up at the lush green tree, a wide smile of childlike awe spread across her face, “just think how gorgeous it’s gonna look after you string the lights on it!”

“Yeah, I bet it will be- wait, what?!?  After I string the lights?”  Damien shook his head in dismay as he realized what Camille had just said.  “Why am I stringing the lights?”

“Well I have to go bake the gingerbread to make the gingerbread house, so … “ Camille gave him a nonchalant look and a shrug, before jutting out a hip and tilting her head defiantly.  “Unless you’d like to do the baking …” she asked in a mocking tone.

Damien grumbled again, his face falling into a scowl. “No … I’ll do it.”  He let out a long sigh, turning to go retrieve the box of twinkling lights from the top shelf in their hall closet.  He returned a few minutes later, arms filled with a worn cardboard box full of Christmas lights, to an empty room.  The sounds of Camille clanking around in the kitchen signaled to him that he was officially on his own in this endeavor.  He sighed before opening the box of lights, begrudgingly pulling out a tangled mass of wires and bulbs.   “Cami?”  He called to the kitchen, studying the jumbled mess with a frown.  She poked her head around the corner as she tied an apron around her waist, eyebrows raised in question.  “Check out this tangled mess!  Do I really have to do the lights today?  I mean, what’s the rush?”  He dangled the ball of wires and chaos in her direction, making his most pathetic pleading face at her.

Camille grunted and stomped over to where her boyfriend was whining, grabbing the lights from him and quickly weaving them untangled with her tiny hands.  After a few short minutes, she handed him back rows of neatly folded string lights with a satisfied look on her face, then cocked her hip and folded her arms across her chest.  “Of course we need to do the lights today, Damien.  You can’t half-ass Christmas!  Now stop complaining and get to work so we can actually enjoy this, you curmudgeon!!!”  

Damien’s eyes widened at his girlfriend’s playful outburst.  “Sorry, a Kermit the wha???”

Cami chuckled, leaning forward while waggling a finger at him before poking him in the chest.  “I said a curmudgeon!  Cur-mudg-eon.” She repeated, exaggeratedly slow.  “You know, a huge grump, a crusty old miser … like the Grinch.  Do you want to be a grinch, D?”  She quirked her brows at him, waiting for his reply with a coy smirk on her lips.

“Uhhhh …” Damien fumbled, dropping his eyes and rubbing the back of his neck with one hand.  “No, I guess not.”  

“Good.”  Cami replied in a sing-song voice, a smug smile pulling at her lips.  She raised up on her tip-toes and placed a single kiss to his cheek with a loud smack.  “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I am going to go finish this gingerbread while you work on the lights.”  She turned on her heel and skipped back to the kitchen.

Damien watched as the bouncy blonde sashayed away, unable to fight the triumphant smirk tugging the corners of his mouth upwards.  “Curmudgeon, indeed.”  He mumbled with a low chuckle before turning back to the task at hand.

~~~

An hour and a half, two beers and a tuna fish sandwich later, Damien stood back to survey the glistening Christmas tree.  Despite the rocky start, the time had surprisingly flown by quicker than he’d expected.  It definitely helped that Cami had started busting out lyrics to her favorite Christmas tunes, singing along to the music and swaying to the rhythm as she stirred and rolled and then proceed to clean up her gingerbread.  The beer helped too, but the occasional peek of his giddy holiday-loving girlfriend in the kitchen gave him a happy sense of pride in his work.  Damn if that woman didn’t bring out the goofy side of him … and make him enjoy it along the way.

He heard the clatter of a pan and slamming of the oven door in the background before the soft footsteps approached.  “Oh wow …” he heard Camille murmur as she came up behind him, tucking her arm into his as she stared at the tree.  “Great job, Detective … are you ready to decorate now?”

Damien groaned audibly, glancing over his shoulder to the couch calling his name.  “I’m guessing that can’t wait until tomorrow?”

“Damien …” Camille’s voice dipped as she gave him a look.  The look.

“Alright, alright … I kind of figured.”  He exhaled a long sigh.  “I went ahead and grabbed all the ornaments anyway, just in case.”  

“See, you know the routine.  But nice try anyway.”  Camille gave him a quick peck on the cheek and a wink before she started digging through the boxes of ornaments sitting on the coffee table.  

“You know, I think I’m gonna need another beer for this.”  Damien tried to escape to the kitchen swiftly, but was caught by a hand on his forearm before he could make it.

“Absolutely not … I got us some egg nog.  You can’t drink beer while you trim the Christmas tree.”

“But Cami-“ Damien started to argue.

“And I got you a big bottle of spiced rum to go with it.”  Camille gave him a knowing grin.  

Damien chuckled deep in his throat, nodding his head in assent.  “Fine, deal … it’s almost like you know me or something.”

The pair worked together to hang all their ornaments, Camille continuing to sing along to the Christmas carols and both of them drinking several glasses of egg nog along the way.  By the end of their decorating, they were both feeling the holiday spirit in more ways than one.  After hanging the last ornament, Camille took a step back and nestled into Damien’s arms as they gave their finished product a once-over.  She let out a breath slowly, her jaw opened wide in amazement.  “D, it looks amazing!”

Damien grinned proudly as he glanced over to her beside him, his heart warming at the sight of her eyes sparkling as they reflected the lights.  “Yeah … not bad if I do say so myself.  But I think we can do better.”

Cami furrowed her brow in confusion and looked over to him.  “What?  What are you talking about?  It looks great.”

He gave her an amused look, gesturing towards the top of the tree, bare and unadorned.  “You forgot the best part, didn’t you?”  

Her mouth formed a tight “O” as it dawned on her.  “Of course, the star!  Will you help me put it on?”  She scurried over to the last remaining box, Damien’s eyes following intently as she delicately unwrapped the layers of tissue paper.  When she reached the last layer and tugged it away, delving her hand into the box- “Hhh!”  she gasped, tugging her hand away quickly as if frightened.  She stood still for a moment, her gaze never leaving the contents hidden in the shadows of the box.  Finally, she dipped her hand back in and curled her fingers around the tiny blue velvet box, holding it precariously in the palm of her hand as she swiveled to face him.  “Damien?”  Her eyes, filled with hope and shock and a joy unlike anything he’d ever seen before, flitted upwards to meet his.

Damien stepped forward nervously, his heart beating loudly in his chest.  He had pictured this moment so many times in his mind, never a doubt in his mind since the first moment his lips had met hers almost two years ago … but now that it was here, now that it was actually happening, it was more intense than he could have imagined.  “I hope you like it.”  That was all he could think to say as he reached into her hand to grip the small box, prying open the lid to expose a modest engagement ring.  

Camille didn’t respond, just exhaled softly while she processed the gravity of this moment.  She studied the ring, a simple princess cut solitaire on a white gold band embedded with tiny diamonds along the sides … perfectly classic, perfectly her, perfectly them.  “Damien, I … I …” she shook her head, trying to focus her fleeting thoughts until one obscure thought nestled into her conscious mind.  “But, you were being such a grump today?” She asked quizzically, still unsure how this day had taken such a turn.  

Damien’s head fell back as he laughed, a deep rumbling laugh that made Camille giggle in return.  “Yes, well … I had to keep you on your toes, you know.  I wanted this to be a surprise.”  He grinned wide, relieved to see a relaxed smile on her face.

“You definitely surprised me!” She chuckled, nudging him roughly on the shoulder.  “And here I was giving you shit about being a curmudgeon!”

Damien caught her hand and pulled her close, wrapping his other arm around her lower back.  “Well I guess now you’ll just have to call me Curmudgeon Claus …” he smirked and dipped his head, capturing his lips in a gentle kiss.  Camille snaked one hand around his neck, lacing her fingers in his hair as the other one held tightly to the blue velvet box nestled between them.

Damien stopped mid-kiss, arching his neck to peer down at her face.  “So was that a yes?”

Camille giggled happily, pulling him down to press his forehead against hers, her eyes closed as she basked in the beauty of this moment.  “I don’t think I ever heard a question.”

Damien guffawed, stepping back with an embarrassed smile on his face as he ran his hand across his jaw.  “Right, you’re right.”  He reached down to grasp the box from her hand, retrieving the ring between his thumb and index finger before tucking the box in his pocket.  He stepped forward and held the ring directly in front of her face, ducking his head to gaze into her eyes and tracing her cheekbone softly with the thumb of his other hand.  “Camille Park, I never in a million years thought I’d be lucky enough to find one person I’d want to spend the rest of my life with.  But when I met you, I knew I had met my match and I never wanted to let you go.  Will you do me the great honor of being my wife?”  

Camille placed her hand on top of his, nuzzling her face against the palm of his hand as the happy tears began welling in her eyes.  “Damien Nazario, there is nothing in this world that would make me happier than being your wife.”  She let out a gleeful sob and felt the tears begin falling down her cheeks as Damien released a relieved laugh.  They both watched in awe as he slid the ring onto her left hand, beaming at each other before he reached down to wrap his arms tightly around her in a warm embrace.  He picked her up and twirled her around, the joyous sound of their laughter mingling with the chords of “White Christmas” playing in the background.

When he finally set her down, after tucking a loose strand of blond hair behind her ear and gently pressing his lips to her temple, he leaned back to observe her basking in the afterglow.  “So what now?”

Camille shrugged, her light eyes dancing with glee.  “I don’t know, honestly. I’m sure we’ll figure it out.  But for now … “ she nodded towards the empty treetop, “I think you owe me a star and a boost.”

“Yes ma’am.”  Damien said with a wink.  It may still only be November, but this was already the best Christmas ever.

END

~~~~~~~~~~

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