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sirenprincess15 · 3 years

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Please Don't Leave Me Chapter 9

Title: Please Don’t Leave Me

Author: SirenPrincess

Description: What if Aleksander hadn’t answered the door when Ivan interrupted the war room kissing? What if Aleksander and Alina had a bit more time to get to know each other before Baghra told her his true identity? Alina is the only one who can comfort Aleksander through his nightmares. Will she leave once she knows who he is?

This story is based on the show version and features a soft on the inside, hard on the outside Aleksander with an emphasis on emotional hurt/comfort and angst. If you are looking for lots of hurt!Aleksander thoughts, then this story is for you. Mal exists but pretty much solely to cause Aleksander some angst. Don’t worry. It will be a Darklina ending.

Chapter 1 is a missing scene at the end of Ep 4, and Chapter 2 takes place alongside Ep 5 and then diverges from canon there.

Pairings: Aleksander Morozova/Alina Starkov, bits of Ivan/Fedyor

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Grisha are oppressed in this universe, and I don’t shy away from showing the horrors of that. There may eventually be mentions of canon-typical torture (Fjerdan pyres), death of family members, and cruelty to Grisha children. It’s not the focus, but that backdrop is definitely there and comes up as characters discuss their past.

In this chapter: After centuries of being alone, Aleksander struggles to share his problems.

Chapter 9

Aleksander was busy working in his office. The roaring fire warmed him as he poured over ship manifests and army documentation on this Dmitry. If they could find who Dmitry traveled with, who was likely to be loyal to him, then perhaps they could identify any threats before they even came to the Little Palace.

When Inessa and Fedyor delivered Alina, Aleksander rushed to her side. “Thank you,” he said, dismissing them. He pulled her into his arms, rested his chin on top of her head, and deeply inhaled the scent of her. She was safe. “How was your day?”

“Boring. Fedyor and Inessa wouldn’t even let me go outside, not even for training. I’m never going to get stronger if I don’t train.”

“It’s just a precaution.”

“A precaution for what?”

He ignored her. She didn’t need the stress of knowing how anxious their enemies were to kill her. “I thought we’d take dinner in here tonight, if that’s okay with you.” His emotions were a mess. As haunted as he had been since Marie’s death, it was even worse now that the continued active threat was confirmed. He was relieved to be with her because he could see she was safe, but he was also still deeply ashamed of his panic attack from the nightmare the night before. He feared she would bring it up. He couldn’t talk about it. Eating in the main hall would stop her from doing so, but he was worried about security and didn’t want her with a large crowd. Her food would be easier to poison there, even with her taster. Truthfully, though, Aleksander wasn’t sure he had it in him to perform the intimidating General Kirigan act tonight, and he wanted her nearby for safety. Then he worried about what would happen when it was time for sleep. He had unleashed shadows last night, and they could have hurt her. He would never be able to forgive himself if he harmed her. That morning he had decided they’d have to sleep apart, but that was before he’d known of this new threat, of spies sneaking into the palace to check her routines. There was no way to know if the man he’d killed had been the first or the last. He couldn’t risk letting her sleep without someone strong guarding over her, and she’d never agree to let someone like Ivan stand over her bed. She had to stay here. Selfishly, he was grateful to have the excuse to keep her in his bed.

“Of course.” Her expression begged him to answer her previous question, but he didn’t. He well remembered what it was like to be afraid everywhere you went at all times. He could protect her from that.

“I do have quite a bit of work to complete, though. I’m afraid I’ll be quite busy. I did take the liberty of having Genya select some books from the library for you.”

She raised an eyebrow, as if signaling to him that she saw right through his attempts to distract her, but all she said was, “That was kind of you.”

He sat back at his desk and tried to focus on the lists in front of him. Something wasn’t adding up. Dmitry would appear on a ship crossing into West Ravka, but not on a return, and then somehow a time later be on a manifest for a ship crossing the wrong way. How was that possible? Was he missing manifests or was Dmitry paying someone off to keep his name off the lists?

Alina stepped behind him and started rubbing his shoulders. “Alek, you’re so tense. The stress coming off you is nearly unbearable. What happened today?”

“It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

She sighed. “Are we really going to do this thing tonight?”

He lifted his eyes to take in the annoyed look on her face. “Thing?”

“You know, where you pretend to be the oh so busy and important General Kirigan who uses his sense of authority to push people away? And then acts like he couldn’t possibly have any feelings or needs of his own? He’s fine. Everything is fine. He doesn’t need any help.”

He hadn’t even realized he was doing it, but she had. “Accurate,” he admitted.

“I’m going to let you in on a secret. The act doesn’t work with girls who have shared your bed.”

He laughed. Only she could call him on his behavior like this without irritating him. Only she could make him smile when he was otherwise so miserable. “I can assure you it worked fine on girls who have shared my bed. Apparently, it doesn’t work on the one girl I have let into my heart.”

“You’ve let me into your heart? So … let me help you.”

“Alina, it’s not that simple …”

“You can’t bear this burden alone, Aleksander. I won’t let you. Whatever is happening, it is crushing you. If not me, then get Ivan in here and talk to him. ”

“You want me to summon Ivan in here? This must be serious.”

“He is a good friend to you, and I know you trust him. I just want you to let someone help. You are not alone. This,” she said, putting her hand over the papers, “is not yours alone to figure out. Stop trying to solve everything with no support.”

“I’m not … used to having support.”

She nodded, took his hand, and squeezed it. “I know. I’m not really either. We’ve learned to do things alone, to hide pain and keep it to ourselves, but I know that problems are better solved together. Together, Aleksander. Stop trying to protect me from scary truths. Fedyor scanned every room we went into before he’d let me enter. I’m not stupid, Aleksander. If I can handle you cutting a Druskelle in half on top of me, I can handle whatever is threatening us now. Stop trying to push me away when it comes to important things. Let me help.”

He sighed. She was frightened already; she might as well know the truth. “Zoya caught a man trying to break in today. I have her guarding the palace exterior since she can’t seem to behave herself around you. He is working for Zlatan and was sent to spy on you. They’re making a plan for a better attempt on your life.”

Her shoulders slumped and her gaze fell to the floor as she took that in. “Hunted wherever I go. Still not used to that.”

He stood and wrapped his arms around her. “I will not let them succeed. I promise you that you will come to no harm.”

She looked into his eyes, stared there for a while, then found her strength. “Tell me about the papers.”

He quickly filled her in on what he had discovered about Dmitry and the mystery of the paperwork. It did actually feel good to have someone to discuss his findings with and not keep the thoughts spinning in his head. He talked through all of his ideas, no matter if they led nowhere. She indulged him and asked appropriate questions at all the right times. Finally, he arrived out loud at the stuck place he was in his head. He had so many theories, but how did he figure out if any of them were right?

She was quiet as she turned from page to page. Dinner arrived, and they ate in silence as they continued to try to find a pattern among the papers--the same captain, the same record keeper, accomplices that might travel with him. All ideas led nowhere, but they continued to look.

Hours later, Alina stood and walked into the war room.

“Alina?” He trailed after her. She was staring at the map. After a long time, he prompted her. “What is it?”

“I’m sure it’s stupid.” She shook her head and hugged herself.

He stepped closer and wrapped his arms around her. “I don’t like it when you put yourself down like that. That’s not you. Those are words from your past.”

She shrugged. “Maybe.”

“Hmm, well then, let’s hear it. I’m frustrated. Maybe if it’s really stupid we can have a good laugh about it.”

“I used to stare at the map and dream of finding a way around. I was told there is no around, but … is there? Any secret path or …”

Aleksander felt his stomach twist as the implications became clear. “There are reports of Fjerdans in West Ravka, rumors that Zlatan is aligning with them, letting Druseklle ...” A vision of Nina being tortured popped into his head. He had to fight his jaw from trembling so she couldn’t see how upset this made him. “There is an around if you’re in bed with the enemy. He’s going through Fjerda.”

She gasped as it came together in her head. “He sends his emissary to Fjerda with messages, who then gets a free pass into our country to deliver orders to his spies, but then he needs the quick return across to do it again. How long would it take to travel through Fjerda? Check the dates. Do they match?”

“Fjerdans. It’s worse than I thought.” He could feel the Fjerdan fires licking at his skin.

They spent another hour pouring over records and checking their theory. Finally, Alina yawned. “We should get some sleep.”

He wanted to tell her to go on ahead, but he didn’t want her sleeping in a room away from him. He almost offered to just watch over her, but he feared he would accidentally fall asleep and end up as he had the night before. His chest tightened with worry as he considered possibilities, none of which were acceptable.

“I tell you to come to bed, and that sense of dread is what I get? I might think you don’t want to …” she tried to lightly tease.

“You know why,” he whispered, still not wanting to talk about it.

“Which is all the more reason to get you to sleep soon. Your nightmares are worse the longer you try to keep yourself awake. Have you noticed?”

He sighed. “This morning I was trying to work myself up to telling you that it’s not safe to sleep with me anymore, but now with this information on this potential attack, it’s not safe to sleep away from me either.”

“Don’t you dare do that to me!”

“What?” To her?

“Don’t you realize what you do for me? For years I cried myself to sleep every night, Aleksander. For years! I used to lie there and wonder what was wrong with me that no one could want me, how it was possible for me to not belong anywhere. I slept with a weapon under my pillow to fend off anyone who might come to hurt me. And now I sleep in your arms. Desired. Loved. Don’t you dare take that away from me.”

His heart ached for her. Was it possible she needed him as much as he needed her? “I hadn’t realized …”

“No matter how bad our nightmares get, we stay together. You make sure I can sleep, and I will do the same for you. Just promise to wake me up tonight. You can’t get yourself overtired like that again.”

“And you will wake me if the shadows start again?”

“I promise. Right away.”

“Okay,” he agreed, feeling less selfish about allowing it if it benefited her too. It was better than the alternative of some spy finding her room in the night or her lying awake with a knife under her pillow wondering if someone was coming to kill her. He would have to take care of himself more for her--get an adequate amount of sleep, actually stop and eat meals instead of working through every waking hour, maybe even share some of his stresses with her. He would do those things if it meant he could be there to protect her.

“Now,” she said, kissing him gently. “What do I have to do to get you out of that kefta so I can kiss away all those battle scars?”

#darklina #alina x darkling #general kirigan #kirigan x alina #alina x kirigan #aleksander x alina #alina x aleksander #aleksander morovoza

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kuraiandroger · 4 years

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Diasomnia Relationship Headcanons

Basically what the title says, they’re my favorite dorm and I’ve projected on them a lot so I hope I’m not alone in how I see these dynamics </3 Enjoy!

Lilia and Malleus

I see them as parent and child, even though Malleus seems to want to hide that sometimes. It’s probably because of his title and his age gap with the other children in the “family” that maybe he feels embarrassed about Lilia doting on him, but oh well. I still see him as a child compared to Lilia (despite the fact that he literally is lol) because he seems to be a lot less present in the kids’ lives, and we’ve gotten several glimpses of his apparent emotional immaturity (Avoiding his problems, throwing “lightning tantrums”, sulking, etc). Paired with the fact that Lilia covers for him a LOT while still acknowledging these issues he has... I just can’t see them as equals lol. I only see a father and his very mildly unruly lol son. U_U It’s okay Malmal I know you’re trying your best.

Lilia and Silver

A rather similar relationship to Lilia and Malleus, to be honest. It’s just a lot more open, and I suspect that’s because Silver is sort of young and he doesn’t really have anyone else he’d rather run off with. His temperament is different than Malleus to an extent; Silver doesn’t strike me as a child with a single rebellious bone in his body, so he has no problems hanging out with and admiring his old man. I like to think Lilia had a very tender bond with both of his sons when they were infants, and some of that shows still in his relationship with Silver. They are just good ol dad and son (but really, dad, I’m fine with doing the cooking for tonight).

Lilia and Sebek

Sebek himself has called Lilia his mentor, and I really think that’s the basis of what they are, but I also think Lilia takes some of the liberty of acting like a dad to Sebek too sometimes. I believe Sebek was very present in Silver’s childhood so he is comfortable with Lilia’s authority. A good example of this was when Lilia told Sebek to use a quieter voice in Sam’s shop, much like the way a parent would scold their child lol. Sebek, too, while admittedly gullible, seems to heed Lilia’s advice with great respect, such as when he showed the other first years his secret natto ingredient that he’d heard was good from Lilia.

Malleus and Silver

Contrary to what most people think (due to Malleus’ status as Silver’s guardian), I don’t entirely see him as “Silver’s other dad.” Here’s where I start projecting lmao because I had a sibling who was many years older than me myself, so I sort of get the “older sibling who I respect because they are that much older than me but I also barely know them” vibe from these two. I am sure that Malleus took responsibility for Silver when needed, but it’s just really obvious to me that Lilia is the primary parent and Mal almost certainly looked to him for advice. I dunno, I could be completely wrong about this one, but I am just rather hung up on Lilia still viewing Malleus as his child despite the fact that he is long grown and therefore Malleus doesn’t seem to place the same priority on parenting Silver that Lilia does (which, yeah, I realize could very well be because of Malleus’ title and all).

Some people have said it could’ve been out of respect, but I’ve also taken into account how little Silver seems to acknowledge Malleus as anything more than his liege (he didn’t even know very much about Malleus’ interest in gargoyles which....blows my mind a little lol) and really calls Lilia his father instead. There is a peculiar blend of comfort and distance between Malleus and Silver that I personally don’t entirely see as a parent-child dynamic </3. For the most part, I just see these two as distant age-gap siblings wherein the older one might’ve helped raise the younger one but was too much older than the younger sibling to really connect with them (This could change during the Diasomnia chapter, but yeah). TL;DR: Distant older sibling Mal, as evidenced by Lilia’s much higher influence as the true “father” figure.

Malleus and Sebek

A pretty obvious lord-and-knight dynamic here lol. Malleus seems pretty indifferent to Sebek’s devotion, but Sebek still wants to impress him anyways. I’m sure Malleus just lets him do whatever because Sebek’s a little kid to him lmao

Silver and Sebek

This one! My favorite one! Their sibling-like dynamic really stands out to me because again, I have lived it lmao. I like to see them as a sibling rivalry because it’s very refreshing to see within a piece of media that also focuses on sibling characters that do get along (the Leeches, etc). These two tend to bicker, and they only hang out when they have to (such as when the whole family is together, or when they’re at their school club), and seem to have their own separate social lives despite knowing a lot about each other. I’ve noticed they also pick on each other for things the other cannot control (such as Sebek’s “annoying” voice, or Silver’s sleep disorder). As someone who has a sibling I really don’t get along with sometimes, it just hits home lol.

I’ve noticed that something else us bratty siblings will do, is tend to ignore any traits we have in common in favor of shaming the things we don’t share... Which is very much something that Sebek and Silver do to one another. In reality, I really do think they have rather similar personalities, but the fact that each one expresses it so differently causes them to fight (for example, Silver and Sebek are both very blunt but careful individuals, yet their level of enthusiasm for what they do is a source of conflict). Despite this, sibling rivalry-dynamic characters will still have moments where they get along, such as when they share an activity, like swordfighting.

I like to think that while Sebek is quite literally just Silver’s childhood friend, they have reached a level of comfort (and annoyance) with one another after years of growing up together that their dynamic manifests the way argumentative siblings do, and I love that for them.

---

SOOO uh, thank you for reading if you did! This is my first text post in a really long time, please be nice to me if you happen to disagree with any of this, it’s just headcanons! Sorry if it’s a bit wordy at times too, I like to shove as much in as I can. </3 Anywho, we’ll get a better scope when Diasomnia’s chapter releases someday, haha.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland headcanon #headcanon #twst headcanons #twst malleus #twisted wonderland malleus #malleus draconia #lilia vanrouge #twst lilia #twisted wonderland lilia #twst silver #twisted wonderland silver #twst sebek #twisted wonderland sebek #sebek zigvolt #diasomnia #relationship headcanons #they are a cute family okay

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sea-side-scribbles · 4 years

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Fanfiction: Sympathy For A Downer

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22737214/chapters/70950861

Chapter 47

It was still nighttime when the stream of memories finally released him. The house was quiet, only his own breath blustered in his ears. His glass was empty, but his head was full of thoughts. Everthing he had revisited now demanded an appropriate reaction, but Nick had no idea what to do. He only felt a heavy weight on his chest. The night is ruined, he thought, and he felt tempted to silence his misery with another dose of Joy. But he didn't want to make it worse. He had wanted to make it better.

When he left the kitchen and made his way upstairs to his bedroom, he tried not to make a single noise. He wanted to keep the peaceful silence that made his surroundings look invulnerable, as if at least in this precious moment nothing bad could happen. In front of the bedroom door he stopped, listening in awe. Then he fetched a pen and paper from the side room and wrote a message to Morrie, that he shoved through under his door.

Some time later he sneaked through the dark and dank town, that was his second home by now. It still attracted him, even though the person he had been looking for was now sleeping in his bed. Perhaps he hadn't been looking for Morrie, he wondered. Perhaps he had been looking for his sense, his ability to make the right decisions. Or he had been trying to run from himself. He didn't know what he wanted now. He only believed that there was nowhere to run anymore. Instead, walking around aimlessly was exactly what he needed. He knew the routes where he was most likely safe from the patrols and drones. And just in case, he carried a bottle of brandy with him.

"Strolling around at night again?", asked the Bobby who was really hard to avoid. Fortunately, Nick got along with him. "I was hoping you'd feel better now, Mr. Lightbearer." "I'm alright, Constable", Nick replied. "I just thought you might miss me." Saying this, he pulled out the brandy and handed it to the man, who was visibly delighted. "Well, I can't deny that I miss attentive Wellies like you. One is so alone in these eventless nights." He opened the bottle. "But you're going home now, right?" "Of course", Nick said with a confident smile. Then the bobby surrendered himself to the brandy and forgot about the whole endeavour. Nick passed by him and walked into an alley that led into a small park. Scurrying through the meadow, his footsteps were much quieter. At a favourable spot he sat down in the grass and looked up to the starry sky. Why can't I do anything right?, Nick asked himself. A trickle of tears ran down his cheek.

He remained like this, with his hands clawing the grass, and trying to get rid of all the unnerving thoughts in his mind. Then he felt something. It was about time he took his next dose of Joy. Pulling out the package, he considered to take two pills. But after musing for a while, he only took one out and put the rest away. The pill was as black as the night. He popped it and soon he was given the pleasant, vitalizing feel of a new Joy-phase, while the stars twinkled in all colors. Slowly, he relaxed.

After sitting around like this, he again felt something different. As if someone was approaching him. Even though he didn't hear any sound. He dived deeper into the grass, searching the park with his eyes, but he didn't find anyone. Now certain that it had been an illusion, he sat back up and looked at the stars again. "You really have sharp ears", a quiet voice suddenly said. "Only your eyes fail you." Nick jumped and span around until he stared into a shiny silver mask. "James", he gasped. "My goodness...I didn't hear you. I only felt that someone was there." James smiled a secret smile. "In that case you have trustworthy feelings." Nick's hearbeat slowly calmed down. "And you are a trustworthy agent. As soon as the golden calf breaks the rules, you're on the scene. How did you find me?" "I simply followed the trail of alcohol." "Hey", Nick faintly protested, "It was only a present for a good friend. That's not a crime, isn't it?" "No. I figured you made him rather happy. That's a virtue." Nick smiled. He liked that agent who took liberties with the rules.

"Come here, join me if you don't plan to snitch me. Unless sitting in the grass is too vulgar for a classy man like you." James didn't seem to mind because he promptly accepted the invitation. "Looks like you're in a good mood tonight, beacon of hope," he said as he sat down next to him. "Oh...", Nick sighed. "It's the end of my time. That's making things easier." James eyed him. "What gave you that idea?" "I remembered more of my past", Nick answered wistfully. "You are right, this stuff really helps." He tapped the package of Joy in his jacket. "I got my past back. And you know what? I didn't change one bit. I'm in the same shit as before. I made the same mistakes without knowing." He blinked. The tears wanted to come back. "This time it's even worse. I'm hurting two wonderful people." He shook his head. "I'll end up all alone again. And this time I won't get a second chance." "You forgot something, Nicky", James said softly. Nick looked at him. "You're not alone. Not this time."

Nick gulped. A storm was raging in his chest. He felt like he should give in to it. Carefully, he leaned sideways, into James' direction, and laid his head on the other man's shoulder. It was comfy, and when his cheek touched the fabric of his suit he felt a cozy warmth spreading inside his body. Tensely, he waited for James' reaction. First, the man didn't move, so Nick assumed it bothered him, and now there would be awkward silence between them. But then he felt how James leaned his head against his and relaxed. He gave him a sense of conversance he had thought he would never feel for another person again. Perhaps he was still able to find new friends. Perhaps his fate wasn't as set in stone as he had believed. He wasn't alone. And the stars twinkled at him.

"It's a beautiful night, isn't it?", James whispered. "Oh, yeah...I haven't seen such a clear sky in a long time", Nick affirmed quietly. "Would you like to have a walk?" "An illegal walk?", Nick giggled. "With you?" "The illegal ones are the best." "Huh...yeah, I'd like to", Nick said and slowly lifted his head. They got up and left the park. Soon, Nick's thoughts were wrapped into a pleasant, untroubled fog.

He was standing in a dark alley, motionless, watching closely how James finished his work. "Do you want to hold it, Nicky?", the other man suddenly asked and showed him his shining, sharp cleaver that was dripping with blood. Nick cautiously accepted it. He noticed it was heavier than he had imagined. The blood that was dropping on his hand was warm. "I think I held it before", he said to James, who eyed him. "Do you know how to use it?", the man asked and put an arm around him to lead him closer to the lifeless body on the ground. Nick followed, knelt down next to the body, just like James used to do it and inspected it. Asking, he looked back at James. "Go ahead," the man said and gave him an encouraging smile. Nick raised the cleaver and took aim.

Light was blinding him, yelling and the noise of applause were roaring in his ears. Nick blinked. He was standing on a stage, but the audience didn't look at him. A second later, Uncle Jack entered the stage from behind a heavy curtain, solemly smiling. "Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to a new episode of 'Love Wins'! Today's candidate is no less a figure than Nick Lightbearer himself!" Now Jack gestured towards him, drawing the attention to him. Nick waved and blew kisses, trying to hide how confused he was. "I promise you, today's guests will give you a very thrilling episode," Jack announced happily. He made an expansive gesture towards a corner. "On the left side we have: Nick Lightbearer's great love, the light of his life, the title holder Morrie Memento!" The audience cheered when Morrie arrived on stage and walked towards Nick. Nick's heart missed a beat. He had a bad feeling, but Morrie didn't seem to mind. He confidently winked at him, with his head proudly raised, and looking gorgeous. "On the right side: the man who stole his heart, the king of his dreams, the challenger Arthur Hastings!" Now Nick's heart raced when Arthur walked on the stage, looking a bit shy amongst all the fuss, and awkwardly waving at him. Nick would've loved to jump up and yell at Jack to stop the show. He didn't like the way Morrie glared at Arthur. But something paralyzed him. "Oh, yeah, this is gonna be one hell of a fight!", Jack rejoiced. "But this wouldn't be 'Love Wins' without a special guest." Oh, no, Nick thought. Whos next, Virgil? "Let me introduce you to...you know what? Let's cut this short. See for yourself!" The man who walked through the curtain was wearing a black suit. His face was covered by a mask with sharp edges. His eyes blazed at Nick him from underneath it, glowing red like blood. Nick screamed now, but his voice was drowning in the cheers of the audience.

A second later he found himself in a room that looked familar, but before he could look around someone was pressing him down. "Stay down," that someone hissed, then they whooshed past him. Nick closed his eyes and tensed, waiting for the fight to break out. But it was quiet. So quiet that Nick dared to take a look again. He saw the man who had pressed him down, searching the room. Then the man turned around. "No one there," he said and sat down on the bed that Nick had apparently slept in. "We're alone. It was just a bad dream, Nick." His hand carefully touched Nick's back. "A...Arthur?", Nick stuttered. "Yes, it's me," the man said, looking tenderly at him. Nick jumped up again. "Where am I?" "Ssshhh...In your tunnel...Our tunnel...It's alright." "The tunnel...", Nick sighed, sinking back into the pillow. "Yes, you came back." "How long did I sleep?" "Not for long, you just had a nightmare after all", Arthur joked, then he furrowed his brows. "Aren't you happy to see me? Didn't you want to come here?" Nick froze. Arthur hung his head.

"I'm sorry. I thought...when I saw you lying in your bed...I thought you wanted to visit me. So I laid down next to you. I didn't mean to bother you." Nick now acted just as quickly as after the nightmare. He hugged Arthur tightly. "It's alright", now he sad, as if they had swapped their roles. Looking into the other man's eyes he tried his most charming smile. "I was just puzzled...It happens to me a lot. Please don't worry about it." He hugged him again. "You can join me whenever you see me lying somewhere. Except when you see me in a grave, then you don't have to follow me." It had slipped out of Nick's mouth. Arthur made a choked noise that sounded like the hint of a giggle. "You have quite a morbid sense of hurmor for a Wellie." "That's because of the crazy life I'm living...Sorry." Arthur didn't answer. He looked like he was hesitating and pondering. Then he pecked Nick's cheek. Nick was melting. Arthur was so shy. The kiss had felt like a question. Nick pulled him closer and kissed his black hair that was a bit tousled. Now that he was here, he couldn't just run off. Arthur was so happy to see him after all. Nick decided to spend time with him before he would start back.

#we happy few #Wehappyfew #arthur hastings we happy few #whf arthur #whf nick #whfnick #nick lightbearer #foggy jack #whf foggy jack #foggyjack #nickxmorrie #nickxarthur #whfarthurhastings

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alri-xo · 4 years

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Ship of Dreams (Titanic 1997 AU) | Chapter 2

Gif not mine.

A/N: Hi guuuuys so like this is chapter 2... Took me a long time to make this because this week has been a pretty rough for me personally and I genuinely feel like I needed to edit this chapter so much to deliver all the feels and stuff... Hopefully...

Pairing: Alexander Pierce x Reader, Bucky Barnes (Winter Soldier) x Reader

Warnings: Again, age gap, language, rich people being rich people...

The Titanic finally hit more vast waters, gliding through the sea as it head out farther from land.

Bucky and Steve ran down the corridor, the enamel white walls serving a backdrop for the people cramming its sides as they tried to find their way inside.

They weaved through the people to find their quarters, they passed by many people of many walks of life. Like a Chinese man holding probably an English to Chinese dictionary to figure out what the writings meant, children getting lost and the like.

They finally found their room, its painted door looks welcoming, at least to people like them.

"This is it, Steve..." Bucky says as he opens the door, Steve following right behind him as he places his stuff on the top bed of the double decker laughing, "Who says you take top bunk?"

The two other men looked at them, as they didn't look like the original booked passengers. The chocolate man shocked as he looked up from his book and the other leaned against the steel framing of the double-decker.

Bucky neared to the man reading the book and shook his hand, as his face also painted a shook expression, "James Barnes... People call me Bucky..." he greets. He just remained silent as he his eyes gawked at him, then to his friend.

"Where the hell is Ivan?"

💎

In contrast, Y/N was at first class and not just any first class part of the ship. The grandest suite of the ship.

It had the most ornate wood carvings painted in gold at the sitting room, a wide bedroom, and it had a curtained canopy with red velvet and gold tassels, and it had a place for lounging and eating, overlooking the ocean and the sun striping light onto the furnishings and plants, serving up a tropical vibe.

They set their multitude of luggage to get settled in their temporary home. Y/N had an eye for the arts. Paintings of different mediums littered the room waiting to be hanged... Paintings by Monet and Picasso were there, as Alexander thought they were a waste of money.

Y/N rolled her eyes and she entered her room with their maid and her only friend, Carol... She has known Y/N for a good year now, but they have grown to be very close.

She made Y/N feel like a normal girl with real feelings, and not a girl wearing money for show like her mother is.

She helped Y/N ready her quarters, boxes of jewelry and even larger boxes of garments are to be organized. Upon entrance with her friend and mistress, the scent of fresh paint and a new matress fills her nose.

"It smells so brand new... It's as if they made it just for us..." she chirps happily to Y/N, making her smile, "Tonight, when I crawl into the sheets, I'll be the first!"

Y/N smiles bigger looking at her, but it only lasts for a moment. Alexander is at the doorway, looking at her like she's but prize that he won, "And tonight, when I crawl in the sheets, I'll still be the first."

Carol goes cold in fear, as she knows what Alexander can be to Y/N. She is no stranger to his passive aggressive behavior towards her or Y/N. She turns on her heel, "S'cuse me, miss..."

It's now the two of them in Y/N's room... Y/N turns her back to him as she faces the mirror as seeing him draw nearer to her.

He hugs her from behind, but her expression is bleak, "The first and only... Forever..."

All she could think of was her life. Her future with this man she doesn't even know well, claiming her as his because of her mother's terms. Also, a man twice or maybe triple her age?

His scent of cigarette and faint alcohol filled her nose as he kissed behind her ear and on her shoulder. She kissed his cheek back reluctantly, to show her devotion. Empty devotion.

💎

Reader's Point of View

Me and mother decided to explore more of the ship, as Alexander insisted. However, where ever she went she had something to say.

It was close to dusk, but a person like me rarely make the sunset grace my vision... Mother forbid it, saying I have more important things to do... And... Staring out into the open, admiring the view is not what a good wife is.

We went down the elevator to the entrance of first class, the reception area with prominent people that my mother and I know.

They know me, but I don't really care as much as she does.

A woman comes in to the entrance, a suitcase in hand, "Well, I wasn't about to wait all day for you, sonny... Now, do a lady a favor and carry those for me, please..." she asks politely, the feathers on her hat dancing in the air as she moved.

She gave mother a small smile, and mother reciprocated one... One for show... However, mother envied this woman for her looks and undeniably beautiful figure.

No corset can imitate the curves she had... Even if mother had a corset made by the finest corset maker. Nothing.

She is Natalia Romanoff, but people call her Natasha or simply, Nat. She came from a poor background, but struck luck some place west. She was someone mother called 'new money.'

We set off after our last stop, with nothing in front of us but ocean. The ship was unstoppable at this point... Neither is that wedding.

💎

Third Person Point of View

The creamy glow of the afternoon filters on the grand ship. Every bit of floor illuminated by the setting sun. Bucky and Steve made their way out of their quarters and out to the open deck, as they looked over the rails that kept them safe in the ship.

Bucky looked down at the ocean. The glassy blue sheets splitting in two as the ship glided across like a fine blade.

The captain of the ship smiled. His beard full and his hair neat under his hat, blue eyes as blue as the ocean he driving on.

He turned to his companion of dark hair, slicked back as his blue eyes as crystal clear as the water that hits the shoreline.

"Take her to sea, Loki... Open her up..." he says as his companion nods and obliges.

"Yes, Thor... And may I remind you, Captain..." he begins emphasizing the title, "You should stir her not me..." he chuckles.

Thor rolls his eyes playfully at his brother, watching him leave then watching the sunset glow in front of him.

Below the decks however, work is being robust. Men covered in soot as the doors blazed bright flames as they added more to make the ship pick up.

The shipbuilder watches the engineers and greasers work their magic, seeing everything move accordingly and how he wanted it. He built the beauty they are working in and he is proud of it, it's exactly what he wanted.

The propellers under water pick up pace as more energy was introduced to the ship. They chopped through the water making it glide faster.

On the deck, Bucky's hair was blown by the wind, the scent of fresh air and sea filling his lungs as a big smile on his face appeared. Steve was holding on to his hat as he looked into the horizon.

Captain Thor Odinson looks at the same view, as if feeling triumphant and free. The massive ship his steed as his brother looked through the glass as they rode above the deep sea.

Steve smiles, looking at the water and asking Bucky to do the same, they spot two dolphins running with the ship. Their forms going up and down, above and under the sea as a pod of dolphins appear near the front of the ship.

Steve then stares through the horizon, the sunsparkles on the ocean beam warm light like gold under the slow setting sun.

"I can see the Statue of Liberty from here..." he grins happily as the wind in his face blows, "Very small, of course..."

Bucky smiles back then stands higher near the hand rails that keep them prisoner in such paradise, "I'M THE KING OF THE WOOORLD!!!"

💎

Reader's Point of View

The next day came like a fast turning of a page. My first night in the ship was pleasant, as if the waves rocked me back and forth on its calm waters. The scent of everything new made it feel even nice, knowing that all of it can be as comfortable as can be for me.

We were having a meal with two of the people who are the most important passengers of the ship. Tony Stark, the person who named the ship RMS Titanic, the ship builder, Bruce Banner.

They collaborated, Mr. Stark had the vision and Mr. Banner did the mission to make the Titanic into a reality.

"She's the largest moving object made by the hand of man in all of history..." Mr. Stark begins to say, "And our master ship builder, Mr. Banner here, designed her from the keel plates up."

He looked down and smiled shyly, not wanting the attention, "Well, I might have built her, but it was Mr. Stark's idea... He envisioned a steamer so grand in scale and so luxurious in its appointments that its supremacy will never be challenged... And here she is..." he says slapping the table proudly, "willed into solid reality."

Natasha looked at the two other men and cocked her brow "Why are ships always being called 'she'?" She asks jokingly, "Is it because men think half the women around have bigs sterns and should be weighed in tonnage?"

I smiled as they laughed, mother being quite amused of Natasha's words, "Just another example of men setting the words their way..."'

Admittedly, Natasha is witty and fun, but she is not everyone's cup of tea. Especially with my mother and her group of friends.

The waiter approached our table and thankfully, he had matches. I lit my cigarette and placed the thin end of its holder, savoring the smoke down my throat.

"You know I don't like that, Y/N..." my mother tuts quietly, making me look at her and glare. I blow smoke as she backed away slowly.

"She knows..." Alexander mumbled, taking away the cigarette and stubbing it out on the ash tray, as he said our orders. What he wants, I'll also get. As if I had a choice sometimes.

"So, you're gonna cut the meat for her too, Alexander?" Natasha asks smirking.

Alexander ignored her question, turning to the other men at the table and at my mother. In all honesty it might be the only thing that is left for him to do to me at this point.

They discussed about why the Titanic was named as such, being synonymous with everything that is big and grand, but secure and safe. Me being bookish and a person who is as educated as everyone on this table, it made me want to bring up something big.

"Do you know about Dr. Freud? His ideas about the male preoccupation with size might be of interest to you, Mr. Stark..."

Mr. Banner choked on his meal, holding back a laugh and it made mother glare at me.

"Y/N what has gotten into you-" I cut mother off as soon as she heard my chair creak on the floor.

"Excuse me..." I muttered as I walked away and out.

Natasha's Point of View

Well, that was rough.

Katherine's eyes widened, mortified by her daughter's actions. Definitely not what a mother wants to see in a daughter like Y/N.

At least for Katherine.

Also, as a wife for a man such as Alexander is such a leap. She seriously could've gotten any man for her daughter. Someone her age, perhaps? Not someone who could possibly be dead after the wedding night...

Oh, I'm just teasing...

"Seems like you got a pistol in your hands, Pierce... Think you can handle her?" I asked nonchalantly... It is reality what I'm saying... Since when did I fake it like the other women on first class?

"I guess I should mind what she's reading from now on..." he grins half heartedly as she follows Y/N out.

Jolly good show... Jolly good show indeed.

💎

Bucky's Point of View

"Look, daddy... Look at the birds!" The little girl says happily looking at the seagulls flying above the ocean, her father supports behind her as she is seated on the metal railing.

The energy they give off reflects on my ongoing sketch. Innocence and certainty, wisdom and care. A different aura from what I used to draw while I was some place else.

Steve looks over my shoulder, seeing what I have came up with and gave me an appreciative nod. He taught me how to draw and sketch, and now I am as hooked to drawing as he is.

Our two roommates hung out with us breathing the fresh air and the scent of the ocean. The bliss stopped when we heard the scent of dog poop in the air.

We looked up to see that the ship staff brought the dogs from first class to take a shit on the deck for third class, and with one of them having the most wrinkled face it would pass as something not of this earth.

"That's totally normal here... First class dogs come down here to take a shit..." One of them says, making me and Steve laugh a little...

"Yeah... Tops the scent of the room next to ours every night..." his friend says making him laugh, "Well, maybe the stink of the money they all have too..."

The guy from the staff glared at him, making them stop laughing as he left with the dogs.

I shrugged, "That's when we know where we rank in the scheme of things..." and Steve nods in agreement.

Then silence filled the air for a moment, the sound of the water and the squawking of seagulls in the horizon was our music.

"I'm Sam Wilson... This is my friend, Peter Parker..." he says stretching out his hand to shake mine and I shake his.

"James Barnes... Bucky for short..." I greet back, but his face paints curiosity, "Short for Buchanan..."

"Steve Rogers..." Steve greets as he exchanges handshakes with Sam and Peter, as I focus back to my drawing, the final strokes left.

I close my leather sketch pad and slip my pencil inside of it with a sigh. Surely, this ship is a work of art as everyone says it is... It's no lie...

I looked up to look around and I see her. Oh, she's an angel....

Who looks like that amongst all the people here? She's made by the gods.

She glowed under the sun, her dress shines and ripples in the wind. The silk on her skin hugging every curve and edge she had perfectly as her eyes looked over the railing.

Her cheeks flush as the heat made them redden, sun kissed. Her (y/h/c) hair in a neat updo with tendrils romantically falling freely framed her gentle face.

She looked at me, her (y/e/c) eyes sparkling and dolly, but expressive with a sense of distress for someone who had the world wrapped around her finger. Then she looked away again at the horizon.

Then all of a sudden, an older man approaches her... Her father, perhaps? Then he wraps his arms around her, but she tries to push him away.

Oh, he's her lover... But, they bicker a little as the man continues to try and persuade her.

I wish I could've looked at her longer. I was, but I wish she could've looked at me just as long.

"Oh forget it, Barnes... You'd rather have angels fly out your ass to be next to the likes of her..." he says making Peter and Steve laugh. I ignore them as I focused on the lady at first class, now storming back inside to her little world to live her little life as a first class passenger...

When will I ever see her again?

<- Previous | Next ->

A/N: I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter and I do apologize that it's long with no page break. Once again, I hope I did this justice and I hope y'all stay safe. ily

-Alri

Taggies 💕 (DROP ME AN ASK IF YOU WANT IN)

@witchymegg @amisutcliff @luna4501 @likeit-or-leaveit @underworldqueen13 @theaussiedragon @vhsbarnes @uglipotata72829

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smarmaladey · 4 years

Text

The Bad Touch - (1/3)

Chapter 1 - “you and me”

Rating: 🇪

Fandom: Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure

Relationship(s): 🐞♡🚺

Words: 4032

Ao3 Link

(For content warnings and additional notes, click read more.)

The recessive vampire genes in Giorno's blood haven't been sitting too well with him lately. AKA, your boss is in heat. Oh god. Oh fuck.

content warnings: rape/non-con elements, ooc (probably), AU (probably)

Enjoy!

♡🐞♡

Sunday.

4:00 PM.

The first incident.

♡🐞♡

Christ.

Seriously? In your three years working in espionage, this was the most tedious assignment you’d ever gone with? Retrieving a couple godforsaken papers from some insignificant rival group?

Whatever. It was done.

The fruits of your labor were safely tucked in the inside of your coat, ready to be delivered to the big man himself.

You could never fully understand why your boss always made you deliver crap straight to him. Maybe it was a trust thing?

During the span of your near two-year “career” under Passione, you’d managed to be slung up the ranks by the combination of your competence, ability, and tendency to work alone. This meant getting strangely close with the head of the whole shebang, normally taking your assignments straight from the man.

You never really made a big deal out of this. Giovanna was far from a super-secretive man, nor was he cold like one might expect from a goddamn mob boss. Hell , If the lowest, newest, meekest member of a scummy group did one thing that pleased him, he’d probably invite them to dinner at the most prestigious establishment in Rome. Or at least that’s what he came across as to you.

It was kind of sketchy.

But you didn’t really care, nor did you have any right to criticize the guy.

Dwelling on those thoughts wasn’t your style. All you had to do today was: Deliver the file, leave the office, get home, and finally, watch your shows. Simple.

After somehow making your way through his large estate to his office all by yourself, something was a little off.

The door was closed all the way.

You cracked it open a little bit, the too-loud creaking making you uneasy.

“Sir…?”

“Ah,” his voice was much too quiet, and almost...frantic. “Who’s this?”

How the hell am I supposed to respond to that? “Uhm, me?” You took the liberty of letting yourself in, slightly put off by how dim the room was. Facing you was the back of a leather chair.

Giovanna was looking out of the floor-to-ceiling windows at the back of his office, curtains pulled half-open, casting soft afternoon light into the room. “...I’m guessing you have the documents?”

“Wouldn’t be here if I didn’t…” Muttering under your breath, you took the black folder from your coat.

He turned around when he heard your footsteps (because of course he could), being illuminated by the yellow-er light from the ceiling lamp.

The files were gently set down on his desk, and you caught him looking up at your face.

Something you’d been noticing for the past few months, (actually, you were pretty sure it began around his eighteenth birthday) he’d been... adorning himself more than usual…? As if he wasn’t already grandiose enough, he’d been wearing makeup quite a lot more than you were used to.

Giovanna smiled up at you, and successfully got you to avert your gaze. His lips were glossed with a very lovely fuchsia, but what really caught your eye were his cloud-white, glittering teeth. And you had no clue why. Something was off about his teeth, besides the fact that, like the rest of him, they were grossly perfect.

He was clad in a classic; magenta suit with numerous full-golden brooches. (Those ones were new, given to him by a “friend of the organization” apparently, and you had no idea why you knew this) Glancing at his hands on the folder, his nails, manicured into rounded points and painted white, contrasted with the signature black leather of your favorite binder.

Strange. His door was completely shut, as if nobody had seen him for the entire day. Why was he still dressed up…?

Swallowing nothing, you took a step back.

“Let’s see…” Your boss’s voice was still quiet, as he carefully tugged the manila files out and placed them on his desk. “Ah, bravo! These are exactly what we’ve been looking for!”

Before you knew it, he had snatched your hand and was shaking it with both of his. The nails digging into your wrist made you cringe.

”Thank you, Sir...thank you…” You tried with all your being not to sound confused or ungrateful, especially with those...intense turquoise eyes glaring up into your soul.

“I expected nothing less of this, perfect job!” His hands lingered for too long before he dropped to start reading the documents again.

You mumbled something, turned around, and began to leave. Yet, just as your hand was on the tacky flower-themed doorknob, he stopped you.

“Wait,” the jump from his chair was audible. “I, ahem, I never dismissed you.” There was a small giggle in his voice, and you weren’t buying it.

Ugh.

“Awh, but Don Giovanna~~! ♡ I’ve had such a long, looong day, and my poor body’s so, sooo tired! Please let me go home, haven’t I done such a good job already~? ♡ There’s a new X-Files episode premiering tonight, and I wouldn’t miss it for the world~!”

That’s what you could’ve said in an ideal world.

“Right.” In that world, he’d let you leave right away, “am I needed for anything else, Giovanna?” And then you’d go to your quiet, expensive beach house and get an amazing night’s sleep.

He shuffled in his seat a bit. “Yes, why don’t you hang up your coat?” He spoke without looking at you, scanning the files in front of him. “You must be hot in this room, I know I’ve been all day…”

You nodded once. “I think the air conditioning here might be broken…” your boss’s words mostly flew over your head. “I’ve just been feeling so overheated lately. I even keep the door shut now just so the cool air doesn’t leave this room…” You nodded again. “Do you think I should get a fan?” Again.

When you fully took off your heavy coat, you flinched.

Holy shit, it’s freezing.

With your bare arms exposed, you finally processed how cold it was in the room. No sooner did the temperature register with the rest of your body.

The coat rack, like a lot in the room, was floral themed. The decoration of the entire office was pretty on point, but when you walked back across the room again, something new grabbed your attention.

On the ceiling, the round lamp that hung down had a new look. The paper lampshade had a sort of “Classical Asian Art” look to it, like Japanese “Ukiyo-e” or whatever it was called. Neat.

“Nice lamp.” You said, breaking the silence. Giovanna glanced at you, and you pointed up at the ceiling. “It looks nice.”

“Oh, thank you.”

Sitting across from him, you felt somewhat trapped. Just a little, though. It was just...quiet, with him reading papers and you...not.

This guy…

Your heart jumped when he shut the folder in front of your face. “Could you do me a favor, please?” Giovanna pointed somewhere behind you, at one of the many bookshelves lining the walls. “There should be a…” He cleared his throat, something he had been doing a lot during this meeting. ��...a sort of history book on the Holy Roman Empire over there...”

Not bothering to say anything else, you got up. He gave you clarification and you were happy to get a little farther from him.

The books were all similar-looking with hard-to-read spines. It honestly felt like they were all sorted by color rather than title, and perfectly lined up with one another. How can one man manage to be so perfectly organized?

“Sir, which shelf is it?” You weren’t answered, as Giovanna had to clear his throat again. “...are you alright? Have you been ill these past few days?”

He waved at you not to worry. “I should be fine, I’ve just been so thirsty lately…”

“Ah.”

“It’s so strange, my throat is constantly dry…”

“That so? Would you like me to get some water?” You offered, still facing the bookshelf.

Once more, he cleared his throat. “No, that’s not necessary. Don’t worry about me too much…”

Everything seemed to stop awkwardly.

“It’s probably on the fourth shelf down, the title should be obvious…”

And like that, you found it.

“Grazie, grazie!” Giovanna almost cooed to you when you handed him the leatherback book. When he took it from you, his nails hit your fingertips, but you were distracted by seeing his teeth again. Still, you couldn’t tell what was up.

“Yeah, right…” You sat back down across from him, as he almost immediately started looking through the pages. “So why do you need the history book again…?”

He slid a document to you and pointed at some random word. “Well, it seems like in these records, they refer to--” Out. Everything else he said went through one ear, out the other.

“...right.”

“--and in this, this is a--”

“...yeah.”

“--which leads me to this one, which I have…”

When he trailed off, it went quiet again.

“This. I’ve seen this quote before!” He was pointing at the bottom of one of the first documents you snatched.

You were about to respond with another “oh really?” before he pointed out at another bookshelf, this time much closer to the desk.

“It’s smaller, but it’s right over there, I’m pretty sure.” Again, the books were all sorted by size and color, so you couldn’t tell anything from each other. He must’ve taken off the sleeves, too, because some didn’t even have a title on the spine.

You really wanted to snarl something at him. “Where am I looking again?”

Giovanna tried to clarify the location again, but it wasn’t working with you. Just get up yourself, asshole.

And he did! For the first time you’d seen that day, he rose from his chair and stared at the same row of books you were. Maybe the same exact book you were looking at. He must’ve, why else would he be standing so close?

“I could’ve sworn I put it around here…” You could hear his breathing. Stepping away, you watched him stand stiff and stare at all the books.

Your eyes were beginning to hurt. It’d been so long since you’d slept, all you needed was to go. “Enough, what’s the title of the book?” You were careful not to groan or scoff before or after you spoke.

Giovanna touched his chin with his index, looking, frankly, gorgeous from a profile shot. “It was called...ah, Invitation to a Beheading? Something like that?”

Something clicked in your head so fast you could’ve sworn you heard a ring.

“Ohhh! I’m pretty sure I remember my mom reading that book!” A quick memory of the book’s appearance flashed in your head, that matched something you had seen on another shelf earlier perfectly. “It’d be over here-”

Now, what happened next needs to be analyzed, because you were 99.9% sure this single moment was the straw on the camel’s back. The action that began the downfall. The great whore to your Babylon.

All you did was turn around, turn around right next to him, so you could head to another bookshelf.

The thing was, you weren’t paying attention to how you were moving your arms, only focused on the stupid goddamn book. Innocently, your arm swung and, as a result, your hand just brushed against his --Giovanna’s, your boss’s-- upper thigh...area. The back of it. You know, that area, the one between the tailbone and the leg, that one.

To put it bluntly, you touched his ass.

Both you two froze in that moment, you could tell. Maybe time stopped.

"...civetta."

You looked back around, to make sure you had heard that right.

"I'm sorry…?"

"Ah...you're such a little tease, aren't you…?"

Huh?

Blood in your veins went cold when you saw the pure, unadulterated salacity in his eyes.

Your fight-or-flight instinct kicked in, and you tried to look to the side, or even turn around, but it was much too late. Giovanna had promptly moved to you, caged your face with his hands and turned you up to look at him.

The eye contact was brief, his gaze drilling into yours, before he forced you into a kiss.

A shock went down your spine and made you stiffen. Almost instantly, you tasted the strange (and revoltingly pleasant) flavor of his lip gloss, and grew hyper-aware of not only the shape of his mouth, but the contrast of his body heat against yours.

Eyes widened, you uttered out a shocked, muffled noise that only seemed to make his ever-growing body temperature even warmer.

You tried to push against him, but he just grunted and tugged your body against his. Squishing your eyes shut, you tried pushing and palming at his chest, which only made him hold on tighter.

Eventually he detached for air, a thin string of saliva connecting the two of you appearing only briefly. Giovanna's green eyes were absolutely hazed over, a vibrant pink dyeing his usually white face.

A million words were dashing through your head --why? what? who? how? me? you?-- but your brain was incapable of stringing together anything coherent.

It wouldn't have mattered if it had been, though, because almost as soon as the golden boy had pulled away, he pulled in once more.

This time, he took advantage of your pried open mouth to invade you near completely. In the midst, your tongue ended up brushing against one of his teeth--one of his canines.

Sharp. Too sharp.

With that, it was cut short by you successfully jerking away. While he didn't let you go, Giovanna withdrew again, wiping off his smeared lip gloss with the back of his hand.

"Sir! I--" Idiotically, you had assumed it was over, but surely enough, your wrists had gotten snatched.

Next thing you knew, the side of your face had been pushed up against the nearest vertical surface, with Giovanna mewing your body with his own.

"Gh…no..." Your voice had gotten higher, weaker too, "Sir...ah, Don Giovanna, please...I don't understand...why, what is this…?"

"You 'don't understand'? Really now?"

You trembled at how close his voice had become, now so close to your ear that you could hear his tongue detaching from the roof of his mouth. “Sir, I--”

“Ah,” he breathed out a small laugh, “don’t try and play coy with me, cara, you knew exactly what you were doing…”

Giovanna had noticed how you reacted to his voice, so he decided to drag his tongue along the shell of your ear, before kissing it directly. Again, you let out a weak noise as warmth shocked your body.

Trying to get away from his voice, you turned forward and pressed your forehead against the shelf, perhaps in an attempt to squeeze yourself between the books and escape.

"Oh, when you tried to leave me earlier," he was beginning to sound almost whiney with how breathy his voice was becoming, clutching your shoulder and hand with an iron grip. "I swear, if you left, I would've…"

He never finished that statement, too distracted by trailing his hand from your shoulder, down your torso, all the way to the bottom of your high-waisted shorts.

"These...ah, did you really expect to come in here, wearing these, and be able to get away~?"

Even with your panic-blinded brain, you knew you had worn these (admittedly, skimpy) pants around him plenty of times before. He never had any problems until now…

"Giovanna, this is- ah!"

Your words were choked back when he had slipped his hand beneath the waistband of your pants. Underwear too, as he wasted little time trying to force his hand between your closed thighs.

His hand had no trouble finding that little rift in your flesh, middle finger delving between and pressing against the sensitive little nub inside.

In a near instant, your legs went from straight to bent, beginning to tremble. You cursed yourself for near literally becoming putty in his hands, but your brain was still fried and unable to think straight.

With a charming, pleased hum, he swirled his finger around, generating more embarrassing sounds from you. He kept his chest firm on your back, making sure you couldn't wriggle away from his grasp.

Giovanna slid his finger lower and curled it, his digit entering your body with a very slight pinch. You yelped again, hyper-aware of the quiet, very muffled squelching sound made.

"Oh, it's so wet here…" he tittered, sending even more polarizing feelings coursing through your veins.

"N-no...not there, you can't…" The softness of his hand, the smoothness of his nail, invading your warm insides made you feel extremely weak, like your body could cave in at any second. Your feet began to slide back on the hardwood floor, so Giovanna took extra care securing his lower body against yours as well.

Tragically, you tried rocking against his hand, begging for relief. That stopped when you realized you could feel his hard-on through the material of his satin clothing.

He decided he'd had enough of whatever this was, extracting his hand from your clothing and backing up a tad. After lapping his finger clean, he took a second to "compose" himself.

"I apologize, I know this isn't the most comfortable place for us, at the moment…" you were gently hugged from behind, him nuzzling into the top of your head a bit.

You wanted to take the opportunity to break away from him, but before you could even realize he had hastily lifted you up. The bright light made you reflexively shut your eyes, but it didn't stop you from trying to wiggle out of his hold.

Giovanna brought you to his large, cushioned chair, sitting himself down and maneuvering your limbs just so you were straddling him. He tried to hug you again, but you pushed yourself away, hands at his chest.

"Sir…please, we have to stop." A tiny, nagging part of your brain knew this wouldn't reason with him, so you added on, "...not now. Not here, at least…"

His engaged expression turned into a soft, content smile.

Holy fuck, did I actually get him to listen? Will I actually get away with my dignity after all?

You nearly smiled at the seemingly good sign.

But instead of letting you go, he spun the chair around, grabbing your wrists.

Actually, it wasn't him grabbing you. Not exactly.

Ghostly white-gold hands faded in, pulling your arms away from each other, as he pushed your torso away, tugged your shins so they dropped from the chair and onto the floor, and secured your pelvis against his.

In the end, the position you had been forced into was both uncomfortable and humiliating, with G • E restraining your arms, the edge of the desk pressing into the small or your back, and to top it all off, your boss firmly holding your groins together.

It made you want to cry, so you did. Just a little bit, though.

"Ah, please don't worry! I don't plan on having briefings with anybody else, so let's not worry about…"

He completely trailed off, losing his train of thought as he looked over your body in silence. It stayed like this for a couple seconds, with him not exactly sure what to do next, and you refusing to look at anything.

Eventually, he leaned forward a bit, reached to the bottom of your top. You glared at his hand as it grabbed onto the hem, and in a single motion, yanked it over your chest. The cold air enveloped your now exposed breasts made your muscles jerk inward, giving the desk a little shake.

In the tense moment, he kind of just stared for a few seconds, eyes round and doe-ish, face very flushed.

He doesn't know what he's doing. And he doesn't even care.

Wetness dotting his yellow lashes, he suddenly wrapped his arms around your torso, nudging up into the crook of your neck and drawing in your scent. You would've wondered why he looked like he was crying, but your mind was occupied with the embarrassment that came with knowing how sweaty you were. Not like he cared.

Giovanna pressed a couple pecks to the bottom of your jaw, before lowering and quickly licking up the side of your neck. He pulled back about a centimeter, and you watched in suspense as his eyes trailed down to your chest.

He traced a very faint vein with the tip of his nail, one embedded in your breast, until he reached your nipple, erected by the cold air. He took it between the tips of his fingers, rolling it gently.

The muscles in your chest tensed as he cupped your tit with one hand, and slid the other down your body again.

While groping you, he had his lips ghosting the area around your collarbone, wanting to feel every small detail of your skin. His breath felt like it was getting hotter every second, and you were sure that the stuttering little snivels coming out of your mouth were only making things worse.

With a little roll of his chair, Giovanna pushed his groin up against yours, the slight friction made on your vital spot just enough to make you squirm.

His hands really had no right to feel as wonderful as they did, smooth and supple, incredibly warm, and glazed with a sheer bit of sweat. It felt like they were made for your body, as it accepted his touch completely, whether he was groping you or continuing to explore your insides with his digits.

You continued to try and fight back, be it very weakly, by wiggling your lower body best you could. What made you completely give up the quarrel was Giovanna leaning down and taking one of your stiff teats in his mouth. The sudden feeling made you reflexively cave in your chest, as your elbows finally touched the cool wood of his desk. In the back of your hazed mind, you took note of how G • E loosened his hold.

He put more pressure on your body, eyebrows knit, like he was savoring the taste of your skin. As he grew rougher, you felt his sharp canines poke at your supple flesh, and you jerked again.

Giovanna responded by slipping another digit inside, pushing you back a tad more while staying latched on your chest.

Too much. It's all too much.

With seemingly nothing else to do, you let your head drop back. Then, you saw an opportunity.

The lamp.

See, while you had been tangled up in getting restrained by your Boss's Stand, you somehow forgot one critical fact; that you had one too.

The key to escaping this Freudian Nightmare was, quite literally, glaring you in the face.

And all you needed was just another little push…

As if on cue, your arms slid back about a half-centimeter more, and you grabbed the opportunity with an iron grip.

Now.

In an actual blink, Giovanna's ceiling lamp imploded, causing the room to go dark. The minor vacuum caused was enough to make the desk shake, and you slide across and onto the floor ahead.

Despite landing awkwardly on your shoulders, you hastily got on your ass, tugged down your shirt, and rose to your feet.

The relief you felt when you finally reached the door was indescribable, yet you still found yourself glancing back.

Pulverized glass was still falling through the air, what once remained of the most interesting part of the room now glittering with sunset light. Giovanna, on the other hand, had rolled his chair back a bit, adorably rubbing his eyes.

Hit one!

The beat of your heart was racing, yet…

"Giorno, I'm sorry!"

Hit two!

You had no time to dwell on your apology, though, as you rushed out the door.

Hit three! Triple fuckup combo!

You leapt off the mezzanine to the ground floor, and made a dash to the exit.

The cool air of the night came to rightfully claim you. That night, while running across the Italian countryside, you felt rather different.

Needless to say, you missed that night's episode of X-Files.

♡🐞♡

n: thanks to aaron for making the title cards for me, he’s a great skunk man! I said i was gonna do it, and here i am. Hopefully this means i’ll be able to start using tumblr a bit more frequently... Or maybe it won’t, who knows? I’ll post the second chapter here tomorrow, and as for the last one...it’s coming, don’t fret :D

#my works #n/s/f/w #jjba #jojo #vento aureo #giorno giovanna #cw noncon #yumee works #two ladybugs havin sex #my muscles my muscles #involuntarily flex

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the--blackdahlia · 5 years

Text

It’s So Easy (And Other Lies) Chapter 7

Title: It’s So Easy (And Other Lies) Chapter 7

Summary: Stevie Adler likes Duff McKagan. She has for a while now, but she is convinced Duff doesn’t like her that way. Duff likes Stevie, but so does their new bandmate Axl Rose.

Chapter Warnings: Language mainly

AN: Here’s another chapter quickly because I’m trash and a little buzzed. Thank you so much for all the feedback!

A Couple Months Later

The album was perfect. Everyone worked hard on it, and Axl worked the sound engineers to make sure every note was perfect. Everyone had learned that Axl was a bit of a micromanager with this album. He was pissed that part of Slash’s epic solo for “Sweet Child O’ Mine” was dropped for radio edits, but the smile on Stevie’s face when she heard the completed thing was engraved in his mind. She had lit up the whole room, and Slash and Izzy had to watch as Duff and Axl both watched her. Axl wanted to tell her the song was about her, not whatever girl he was currently with, and Duff never wanted her to know.

They listened to all the music on the album, Axl not being able to hide the smile on his face when “Rocket Queen” came on. Everything was going great. And then it came to the guitar solo.

“Oh my god, who is that?” Stevie asked with a laugh. She was sitting against Slash, wearing his top hat.

“Oh, just a girl,” Axl shrugged. “Fucked her in the recording studio to get it.”

“Can’t be you fucking her,” Izzy said, lighting his cigarette. “She’s not begging for help.”

“Nice!” Duff high fived the guitarist. Stevie shook her head and laughed.

“Dude, I thought you were supposed to be my friend,” Axl rolled his eyes. “Anyway, I think that it’ll give us a lot of...exposure.”

“It’s gonna give us a lot of being banned from MTV, that’s what it’s gonna do,” Stevie told him. “But I like it.”

“Wait, you do?” Axl asked, staring at her. The other three looked at her as well, wondering if she was going crazy or something.

“Well yeah,” She told him. “Guess you’re just not used to girls enjoying themselves during sex.” She smirked at Axl, who glared at the drummer.

“Oooo!” Izzy, Slash, and Duff all high fived her.

“I hate you guys,” Axl crossed his arms over his chest.

****

“Oh my god!” Stevie screamed from her bedroom. Slash and Duff looked at each other. The album had been selling and Stevie had just quit her job at the diner. On her way home, she grabbed a couple magazines just to see what people were saying about them. She took them to her room to read through them, ready to laugh at all the dumb things that they could come up with.

And apparently, she had found something she did not like.

“Stevie? You okay?” Duff called back to her. She came storming out of her room and dropped the magazine on the crowded coffee table.

“Read it!” she demanded. Slash picked up the magazine and Duff moved to sit by him so they could read whatever it was she was upset about together.

“Guns n’ Roses, a Hollywood based band, has made waves with their new album Appetite for Destruction,” Slash read. “Fronted by Indiana native Axl Rose and being joined by fellow Indiana child Izzy Stradlin, Duff McKagan from Washington, Guitarist Slash from England, and Stevie Adler from Ohio, the band is sure to draw in the crowds.”

“What’s wrong?” Duff asked, looking up at Stevie, confused. The only thing that he could think of was that she didn’t like people pointing out she was an Ohio native.

“Keep reading,” She hissed.

“While each song in Appetite for Destruction keeps the listener wanting more, some are shrouded with mystery,” Slash continued on. “Such being the final song on the album called “Rocket Queen”. It has not been confirmed who the girl in the instrumental parts is, but we have it under good record that it is in fact drummer Stevie...Adler...oh shit…”

“I know it’s not me!” She told them. “Everyone in the band knows it’s not me. Duff and I went to see Spaceballs when Axl fucked that poor girl!”

“We’ll just keep telling them that,” Duff told her. “It’s gonna be okay.”

****

Duff, Izzy, Slash, and Stevie did keep telling the press that Stevie was not the Rocket Queen. But Axl wasn’t helping. When people would ask who it really was, he would just give them a smile and a shrug. He never confirmed nor denied who the Rocket Queen was, so the media ran with it, since Axl was the frontman.

“Dude, just fucking tell them is wasn’t Stevie,” Duff told him one day while they were in New York, preparing to film one of their music videos using concert footage and differet things that the film crew recorded while following them around the city.

“People like a mystery,” Axl told him. “Keeps people listening, hoping they can figure it out.”

“But you know it’s not her,” Duff stared the shorter man down. “Start telling people it’s not Stevie. I don’t give a rats ass who you tell people it is or isn’t, but just make it perfectly clear that it was not Stevie.”

“Duff, you coming?” Stevie called over to him from where she was hanging out with Slash. The three of them were going to explore the city together. Stevie had never been to New York before and she was so excited to see the sights.

“Yeah!” Duff smiled at her before looking back at Axl. He just glared at him for a second before putting his sunglasses on and walking over to his friends. He let an arm slide around her shoulders before the three set off.

They had fans smiling and asking for autographs wherever they went. Duff would flash smiles at the girls who would ask them to sign something, but the guys that got a little too close to Stevie made his blood boil. Fuck, they weren’t even dating and he was like this. He tried to cool himself down, but the thought of someone else taking Stevie to bed, well, Duff didn’t like that idea one bit.

“We’re doing the ferry tour, right?” Stevie asked when they walked away from the last group of fans that wanted autographs, girls that told Stevie they wanted to be drummers or musicians now and how they were so excited to get a hug from their idol. There weren’t a lot of women on the scene, but the ones that were there made a big impact. And hanging out with Stevie as they got bigger was showing Duff that.

“Of course,” Slash smiled. “How else are we going to see the Statue of Liberty?”

“We get to see the Statue of Liberty?” Stevie asked excitedly. “You guys are the best!”

“You gotta get out more,” Slash laughed. He grabbed her hand. “Last one to the ticket booth has to bunk with Axl tonight!” Him and Stevie took off down the sidewalk.

“Hey!” Duff ran after them. He was determined to make Slash last, because he wasn’t bunking with Axl and he sure as hell wasn’t letting Stevie do it. The camera crew had drove ahead, so they weren’t chasing the trio. Duff used his long legs to his advantage, and all three of them arrived at the same time.

“I think Stevie was last,” Slash teased. “Shorty here was racing a fucking giant.”

“Hey! It’s not my fault I’m average height for a girl and Duff is so fucking long!” Stevie pointed out.

“Bet that’s the first time you’ve ever heard that one,” Slash looked at Duff and laughed.

“God, you’ve been hanging out with Izzy way too much,” Duff shook his head. They headed through the ticket center onto the ferry with the camera guy following them. Stevie was so excited as she looked out over the city. Duff had no idea that the cameras were on them as he watched her with a smile on his face.

But soon, they would have to get back for sound check and warm ups. They were opening up for Motley Crue, who were back from their Europe tour. They just so happened to be in the right place at the right time for the event. So once the ferry ride was over, the three headed back to the venue. Stevie took a seat behind her drums, working on tuning and making sure that everything was in the right spot. Duff, Izzy, and Slash were going over some things, and Axl was talking with some of the roadies.

“Hey,” Someone said, making Stevie jump. She turned to see Vince standing there. His blond hair was a mess, but he looked good for already doing a fair share of touring.

“Oh, hey Vince,” She smiled at him. “We didn’t think you guys would be here until we started our set.”

“Tommy, Nikki, and Mick are back there doing god knows what,” Vince laughed. “I wanted to come talk to you.”

“To me?” She asked. “Why?” He leaned against one of the amps that was right by her set up.

“So, are the rumors true?” He asked. “Are you the Rocket Queen?”

“Oh my god,” Stevie laughed. “No, I’m not. I don’t know what poor girl Axl conned into doing that, but it sure as hell wasn’t me.”

“Oh,” Vince laughed a little bit. “Well, since I broke the ice, we’re all still in town tomorrow. And I was just wondering if you’d wanna go out tomorrow night.”

“You’re asking me out on a date?” Stevie asked. Vince nodded and gave her that killer smile of his. “Sure.”

“Awesome,” Vince laughed. “I’ll meet you at that Italian place a block away from the hotel they put you guys at. How’s 8 sound?”

“That sounds good,” Stevie smiled at the frontman. He took her hand and kissed it before walking away, leaving Stevie sitting there with the biggest smile on her face.

****

“Who’s that over there with Stevie?” Axl asked, walking up to Izzy, Slash, and Duff. Izzy looked over, trying to see who it was.

“Looks like Vince Neil,” Izzy told them. Duff’s head popped up to look over at the scene. He watched Vince talking to Stevie and she had a big smile on her face. Then he kissed her hand and walked away.

“What do you think happened?” Slash asked. Duff didn’t answer, instead walking over to Stevie.

“Stevie,” Duff said as he walked up to her. “What did Neil want?”

“Oh, uh, well you see…” She was blushing now. Duff suddenly was scared to hear what Vince had wanted. “He asked me out on a date.”

“HE WHAT?!” Axl screeched. Stevie jumped and looked at the redhead. Izzy placed a hand on his shoulder to calm him down.

“Yeah,” Stevie nodded. “We’re going to get Italian tomorrow night. Isn’t that great?” She looked at Duff and her smile started to fall when she saw the look on his face. “Duff?”

“Oh, yeah. Happy for you. I gotta...there’s something backstage I gotta do,” With that, Duff left, leaving Stevie sitting there, confused.

****

The concert was fucking amazing. They brought energy that made the kids all go crazy. They took their bow and headed backstage where they were met by Tommy, Nikki, Mick, and Vince. Motley Crue had a few minutes before they had to get on, to give the stagehands a chance to switch out the gear.

“Way to go dude!” Tommy gave Stevie a big hug. “You’re so fucking awesome!”

“T-Bone, stop. You’re making me blush,” Stevie laughed. Nikki went to talk to Duff and Slash while Izzy and Mick talked. Axl watched as Vince headed over to Stevie.

“Can’t wait until tomorrow night,” He told her. Both bands got silent as he pulled her in for a kiss. Tommy’s mouth hung open, Mick and Izzy looked at each other in shock. Nikki could feel Duff getting angry. Vince broke apart from Stevie and smiled. “Until then.” With that, Tommy grabbed his arm and pulled him to the stage.

“What the fuck was that?” He asked the singer.

“What?” Vince asked. “Just kissing my date.”

****

Stevie smiled at her boys as they grabbed their personal things and headed to the bus to go back to the hotel. They had a few days to relax in New York before they had to head out.

“What do you guys wanna go do tonight?” Stevie asked the boys.

“I’m going out,” Duff grumbled.

“Great, I’ll go with…” Stevie looked at Duff’s face and stopped talking. “I mean...never mind…” Slash looked over at Duff, who was gritting his teeth and looking out the window. Tommy, Nikki, and hell, even Mick had picked up on the fact that Duff was in love with Stevie. Even Axl to an extent, because he hadn’t tried to bed her in awhile. But Vince fucking Neil didn’t get the memo apparently.

Slash watched as Stevie quietly got on the bus then looked over at Duff. He wanted to yell at the bassist for acting the way he was, but honestly, he would probably be the same way if the roles were reversed.

Stevie quietly headed to her room, walking past Duff and Slash as they loitered outside their joint rooms. Everyone had their own room, but they always joked about turning one into a party room and hanging out with Axl. But that wasn’t going to happen tonight.

It was the first night in a long time Duff and Stevie hadn’t done something together after a concert.

Forever Tags: @anathewierdo @dekahg @marvel-af-imagines @feelmyroarrrr @nanie5 @imboredsueme @gemini0410 @aiaranradnay @babypink224221 @mogarukes @xxwarhawk @sandlee44 @shatteredabby @caswinchester2000 @supernaturalwincestsblog @lauravic @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk @teller258316 @horrorpxnk @tommyleeownsme @marvelismylifffe @mrslogansixxpixx

Guns n Roses Tags: @duffshairdye @slashscowboyboots @hauntedapricoteggsclam

#it's so easy and other lies #guns n roses #duff mckagan #steven adler #duff mckagan x steven adler #fanfiction

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adrrianraines · 5 years

Text

choose me.

—chapter i. | chapter ii. | chapter iii.

genre: romance

fandom: playchoices: the royal romance

pairing: LiamxMC (Riley Brooks)

disclaimer:

characters used are owned rightfully by pixelberry. all rights reserved. this is a trr UA (universe alteration) original idea storyline. unlike an AU or Alternate Universe, Universe Alterations or UAs are set in the canon universe, but with "alterations" to accommodate the plot.

grammatical errors, misspellings & typographical errors that i might have overlooked are to be expected. – thank u for doing the proofreading with me, @bi-cookie 😘 really appreciate it. as always, special thanks love. ♡

taglist:

– of course, hmu if u wanna be tagged for an update! lovely people who wanna be tagged in this mess, thank you! ✨

@miss-raleigh-carrera @sunandlemons @wolfychoices @juminssi @onomatorina @ao719 @vaticanwaltz @texaskitten30 @princess-geek @janezillow @cordoniaqueensworld

Does the walker choose the path, or the path the walker? — Garth Nix, Sabriel (Abhorsen, #1)

Breathe. Calm down. Concentrate.

A King would never falter in the face of adversaries. This is a minor setback. You can fix this.

Braving a face, Liam squared his shoulders, eyes fixated upon his reflection in the mirror. He stood still for a few minutes, trying to make sense of what was happening. Not less than 24 hours ago, he was at home, with a lovely pregnant wife, in Valtoria. And now, by some weird phenomena that he couldn’t fathom, he’s back at exactly where he was before he married his wife.

Riley. Somewhere in New York City.

Sighing, his hands made a quick work of his collar and then his jacket before he proceeded to present himself. Apparently, from what he’d gathered so far, he’s at the exact hotel where he and his friends stayed for vacation in America. Upon reaching the bedroom, he was welcomed by the sight of Drake sitting on one of the sofas, hands carelessly maneuvering the remote control in his hand. Maxwell was on the phone making a call just beside the large curtained windows.

Drake turned towards Liam, his scrutinizing gaze carefully studying the other. Liam assured his friend by giving a small and calm smile before clearing his throat to get Maxwell’s attention. Maxwell turned and raised his hand for a thumbs up while ending the call.

“Great! Tariq’s waiting for us downstairs. We’ll hit the restaurant first then tour New York after!” The Beaumont Lord grinned and strode towards the two men. He clapped his hand on Liam’s shoulders and smiled warmly. “I’ll make sure you’ll have the best night of your life, Liam! You’re in for a treat with the great Maxwell Beaumont’s Bachelor Paartttyy Express!”

Liam nodded, still unable to properly process the sudden turn of events. If he wants this figured out, he should gather all clues that would present themselves at his mercy then make use of it to his advantage.

Drake rolled his eyes at the other’s antics before propping himself up. “Guess this is the part where we enthusiastically shout ‘yay’ and hope to have a great time.”

Maxwell feigned an offended gasp. “You’re talking to the greatest entertainment master! Of course you’ll be in for a treat!”

Drake shrugged and moved towards the door. Liam followed silently while trying to recall how his first Bachelor Party went.

He met Riley at a small bar. She was working for that sudden stop they had at his last night in America.

Last Night... Therefore... He has a chance of meeting her tonight!

With a determined resolve, Liam figured a way of how to make sure he meets Riley and recreate the exact same moment of their first encounter. From what he gathered so far, if he was indeed jostled back, he needed to make sure everything played out exactly as what had transpired back then.

He halted, which made the two men stop and turn to look at him in question.

Somehow, they need to really make a stop at her bar. At all costs.

“Maxwell.” Liam’s deep baritone immediately made the other attentive. “I know you’ve got the entire night planned out and I entirely appreciate you for it. But perhaps, we can make a little detour towards a place I want to visit? If the itinerary so graciously allow...”

Drake crossed his arms, interested on how this could be handled. Clearly, he knew that Liam was not the one who would continually insist if the plan didn’t involve a certain matter at hand — considering how Maxwell behaves with regards to events he already have planned out.

Maxwell’s face fell, suddenly feeling sorry. “Aw, man. I know you wanna go to the Statue of Liberty but our time is really limited.”

Liam’s eyes perked up as he smiled. “Oh, no. That’s... not particularly what I have in mind.”

Because he already knew how the night would play out if he laid his cards right.

“This... is your last stop?” Maxwell looked incredulously over Liam, as if he had just knocked his head on the concrete and somehow survived but lost a few brain cells or two after.

“I believe it is a quaint little find.” He commented, his heart hammering loudly in quiet excitement. Riley was only a few meters and a few seconds away from him.

Maxwell grinned brightly. “Quaint? This is fantastic! How were you able to find it? Wait...” Then he eyed Liam suspiciously. “Are you after my own title as the world’s greatest party planner?”

Drake scoffed so hard he ended up coughing. Tariq only rolled his eyes. “I believe Prince Liam would never want such title.”

“Still, I’m impressed.” Drake smiled and nodded towards the entrance of the bar. “A greasy joint with local alcohol. Great find.”

Liam nodded, pleased with how he was able to control the events so far. He religiously followed Maxwell’s itinerary for the night, though he made a few arrangements of what was supposed to happen, such as suggesting the bar ahead of time. Still, he was glad they were able to find themselves outside Riley’s workplace. Just in time like before.

The guys went on ahead with excited chatters, still under the merriment from their previous clamoring adventures before they stumbled upon the bar. Liam remained outside for a bit just to gather his thoughts.

The very idea of the possibility of time travel tugged the back of his mind. After all, surely, he didn’t just dream a fantasy of his own wife and marriage. Otherwise, it wouldn’t be promising for the King of Cordonia to be suffering from such hallucinations. If there were any.

It was real. Even if nobody around him can vouch for it, he was certain. Everything was real.

However, when he finally entered the place, anticipating to see Riley waiting their group just like how it was supposed to be, he paused on his tracks.

The scenario played out differently than before.

“Daniel?” He whispered loud enough that the lad, who if he recalls correctly was Riley’s coworker, could hear. Daniel turned and raised a brow towards Liam, surprised at how he was able to know his name. Which, in due circumstances, sounded suspicious and alarming. Liam clammed his mouth shut but his mind was already in hyper drive. Millions of questions flooded like raging wildfire – and it wasn’t the most ideal set.

“Uh, how can I help you, er, sir...?” Daniel asked just as Maxwell moved to make space for Liam.

It took him quite a bit to process his thoughts but thankfully, he was able to gather himself. “My apologies. I’m with them.” Liam pointed towards their table as Daniel nodded slowly.

“Hey, lots of whiskey, alright?” Drake called in, drawing back Daniel’s attention. The waiter nodded then scrambled to immediately cater the order.

“I suppose a deluxe burger wouldn’t hurt...” Tariq’s disappointed voice said as he laid back against the withered leather couch they were sitting at. Liam gingerly walked over to the empty pace beside Maxwell and sat. Despite the lively chatters of his companions, his mind reeled back to the course of events.

Why was it not Riley who was waiting their table? He was certain that it should’ve been her. After all, how would they meet each other if she was not the one who took care of them? It was the key moment that should happen! Liam clenched his fists in frustration, unable to find answers for his questions.

“Liven up! It’s about damn time you all know how to live like a local.” Drake smirked just as the first round of whiskey were delivered.

Fried food and the faint smoke of something being grilled wafted in the air. Only men stood behind the bar counter.

She was nowhere to be found.

Disappointment and confusion infused in his system due to his inability to correctly follow through the course of events. The men were getting rowdy and they were getting more demanding. When alcohol finally hit his companions’ system and they were starting to loosen up, he stood and excused himself, in the guise of asking about their orders.

He needed to breathe. Without much of a second glance, he went straight towards the door. Liam stepped out to the crisp, chilly night breeze, taking in the glitz and glamour of the city lights before him. But somehow, with no clue to lead him, he felt more alone than when he first came to New York.

It was excruciating, to be feeling both complete helplessness and loneliness in a lively city. Without Riley by his side, with suddenly being thrown into such predicaments, with only so much that he can understand.

Just then, he heard movements from behind, followed by heavy footsteps and a grumbling voice. Alarmed because of his lack of security and in a completely foreign country, he turned to take a look, ready to take action. But to his surprise, it was... completely something else. Or someone.

Liam’s eyes widened in shock that almost knocked his winds out.

The stranger halted, trash dangling midair, mouth in a thin line.

Liam’s heart pounded rabidly against his chest. It was as if everything zoned out around them.

There was nothing else but the faint sounds of footsteps from the street, a few car horns in the distance and the smooth breeze in the air.

“Riley...” Her named rolled off his tongue, the familiarity almost crushing his rib cage. It was a mix of being excited and being afraid. Riley stared back at him with no hint of recognition. At all. As if he was a stranger she never met in her entire life.

Riley seemed to be taken aback but was quick to recover. She settled the garbage down and cautiously inched away from Liam with her brows furrowed in suspicion.

“Who are you?” Her voice drawled. Liam almost choked. He did his very best to maintain a friendly, neutral expression but his resolve slipped almost immediately.

“I...” He began, only to nimbly locate the correct words he needed to use. He paused as he tried to gather himself. But before he could even speak—

“If you try something funny, I won’t hesitate—” She fired with vitality in her voice it almost made his heart do a somersault.

Liam wanted to laugh at his hasty and unplanned actions. Approach the woman who owns you completely as a stranger she never met in her life, just beside a local dumpster. Brilliant.

“My apologies. I...” Thinking of a quick excuse, he blurted out the very first thing that came to mind. “I was wondering if you needed any help?” He immediately regretted it.

Riley snorted in amusement and Liam wanted to mentally smack himself. Riley still has that effect on him. She was always able to surprise him in more ways than possible, which rendered him speechless half of the time. He’s still undeniably in awe.

“Yeah... right. How gentlemanly of you to offer that to a stranger you met at a dumpster.” Riley laughed and proceeded to throw the garbage bags in the bins. When she finished, she turned to meet Liam’s gaze squarely and crossed her arms over her chest. She raised a brow, as if asking him something.

He swallowed and smiled sheepishly. “Charmed to meet you, then?”

“I’m not sure how you know my name but we can talk out in the front if you’d like.” She gave him a half-smile that made her eyes twinkle.

Liam couldn’t suppress a smile of his own while he gently nodded in agreement. He felt giddy all over, as if his spirits were lifted up in the air.

“That sounds like a good plan.” He chimed.

She grinned. He returned the gesture like a lovesick boy.

“Meet me inside.”

“As you wish.”

And as he followed her inside, he momentarily looked at his reflection on the mirrored windows of the bar. He paused in his tracks, almost too tired of the many surprises he’s had.

For there was the very same rectangular-shaped bar just a few inches on top of his head, but somehow, unlike Maxwell’s and Drake’s, his was filled with a quarter of color red.

#playchoices #playchoices fanfic #the royal romance #the royal heir #trr #trh #choices trr #choices trh #king liam #drake walker #maxwell beaumont #liamxmc #riley brooks #trr mc #writings #the royal romance fanfic

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softnow · 6 years

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paracosm [ch. i]

msr | college au | this chapter: gen | words: 1851

university of maryland, 1982. fox mulder is in love with the library girl.

this fic wouldn't exist without @o6666666 who has been the biggest cheerleader/brainstorm partner. thank u ily. also: if you go to umd, went to college in the 80s, or specifically went to umd in the 80s...sorry. we’re doing our best but we’re taking liberties here, folks. tagging @today-in-fic.

ao3.

— — —

Fox Mulder is in love with the library girl.

Or, well, enamored with, at least. Smitten with. Big-time crushin’ on.

He sees her for the first time in the fiction section, kicking along a step stool and dragging a re-shelving cart, putting Dickens and Dostoevsky back where they belong. Her messy red bob is bright against the classic lit beige, and her little blue jeans make his palms itch. She’s about five-foot-nothing, has to tip-toe even with the step stool, and her thin white t-shirt tugs out of her waistband a little more each time she stretches. It’s entrancing.

So entrancing that he stands there for longer than he should, Vonnegut clutched in his fist, forgotten. Long enough for her to notice, balanced up on her stool, a book halfway to the shelf. She glances at him briefly over her shoulder, then slides the book home and looks back at him again. A slim eyebrow arches.

“Can I help you?”

Her voice is deeper than he expected, but soft. She blinks at him, eyes big behind gold wire-rims. Her face waits somewhere between expectant and impatient.

“No, uh—no,” he says, shaking his head, backing away.

She stares at him a moment longer before returning to her cart.

Boys, he says when he gets home, boys, you aren’t going to believe it. He says, I think I might be in love.

—

A week later, it’s the circulation desk.

It’s late, not quite ten. He has a history exam tomorrow, and the guys have their Dungeons & Dragons buddies over. Seven dudes shouting about wizards and dexterity checks in his living room means he can’t focus at all. So he goes to the library.

He’s not thinking about that girl—really, he’s not. Not about her fluffy bangs or her slim hips or her soft, rich voice. Not at all. He’s just looking for a place to study, that’s it. Just somewhere quiet to blow through the Renaissance and call it a night.

But she’s right there, perched on a chair behind the counter, when he walks through the door. Her sweater is dark blue and speckled, like she’s taken a bit of the night sky and wrapped it around her for warmth. She bows over a book, chin resting in her sleeve-covered palms, coppery hair falling in waves around her face.

For a moment, he considers heading straight to the third-floor reading nook, the one in the religion section that the freshmen haven’t discovered yet. If he gets started now, maybe he can be in bed by midnight.

But then he looks at the girl again. She nibbles on her bottom lip while she reads, and—well. Da Vinci’s been dead for four hundred years. He can wait a little longer.

Mulder hitches his backpack higher on his shoulder, crosses to the counter, and leans forward on his elbows. The girl looks up, chin still in her hands, that same expectant-impatient look on her face, and Jesus, this close, she has a whole sky map of freckles on her cheeks.

Whatever suave cool-guy thing he was going to say gasps and drowns in her Bora Bora-blue eyes. What comes out instead is: “Desk duty tonight. Easier to reach, huh?”

And, oh.

Real smooth. Real fuckin’ smooth. Foot, meet mouth. Earth? Feel free to open up anytime now.

The girl’s eyebrows shoot into her bangs. Then she sighs the sigh of someone who deals with dumbasses like him all the time.

“Are you ready to check out?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

She straightens in her chair, customer service-polite. “Your card, please.”

“No, I’m not—”

“Help you find something, then?”

“No, I don’t need—”

“Then what can I do for you?”

Rewind time? Let me start over?

“I just wanted—that is, I—uh. What are you reading?”

A beat. The girl stares at him. Her eyes really are breathtakingly beautiful, even when they’re sizing him up like he’s a bug that has just crawled into her soup.

“What am I reading?” she echoes, flat.

“Yeah, your, uh, your book there. Is it good?”

He can hear the clock on the wall behind her. Tick, tick, tick. Her silence stretches for so long that he starts to wonder if he wasn’t just speaking in his head.

Finally, she nods once. Curt. Up, down. “It’s fine.”

Cut your losses, kid. Walk away. But his mouth’s already off and running, the last to get the memo.

“Fine? Oh, well, fine—fine’s better than bad, right? What is it?”

She sighs again. Slides a thumb between the pages to mark her place and flips the cover shut. He reads the title upside down.

“The Principle of Relativity?” He whistles low. “Just a little light reading, huh? That’s cool. Physics is…cool.”

She blinks like a cat, slow and bored. Says, “Yeah.”

He shoves a hand through his hair and tries to smile. “I’m, uh, I’m Mulder. Fox. My first name’s…Fox. I’m just Mulder, though.”

Her strawberry mouth puckers and she nods again.

Okay, buddy. Move along.

“And you’re...?”

She tosses her book open. The cover makes a little thwap as it hits the counter. She taps the page.

“Busy.”

—

The next day, after his exam (which, after staying up until two in the morning replaying easier to reach, huh?, he’s certain he did not pass), he goes to the library.

She’s reading at the desk again, hair up in a little fountain ponytail. He thinks—though he’s not sure—that she might be trying to kill him.

“Ready to ch—oh.” Her face actually falls when she realizes it’s him. He’d laugh if she wasn’t so pretty. “You’re back.”

She has two tiny gold hoops in each ear, and he is overcome with the urge to touch them, to see if the metal is warm from her skin. He shoves his fists deep into his pockets instead.

“I wanted to apologize,” he says, “for last night. We got off on the wrong foot.”

She nods. She says, “Fine. Okay. Are you checking out this time?”

He laughs now; he can’t help it. She’s so serious. This little librarian. He doubts if she’s even twenty yet, but the prim line of her mouth is Ph.D.-stern.

“No, uh, I wanted to make it up to you.”

She folds her arms and her lips twitch into the barest hint of a smirk. “Make it up to me?”

“Yeah.” He shrugs. “I was an ass last night, but I’d like to make it up to you. What do you say? Coffee tonight, my treat?”

She cocks her head to the side, and he almost has her smiling now, he’s sure of it.

“I have class tonight.”

“After that.”

“Homework.”

“Tomorrow, then.”

She shakes her head. “Work.”

“Okay.” He rests his elbows on the counter, gives her his most winning smile. “When are you free?”

A real smirk. Just a little one, but there. “I’m not.”

“Ever?”

“Not for coffee.”

“Dinner, then. A movie?”

She bends forward, mimicking his position from the other side of the counter, her nose only inches from his. She smells like cinnamon. He can’t breathe.

“Sorry, Fox-Just-Mulder. I’m not interested.”

“Because I was an ass?”

“Because…”

“I was an ass.” He nods, smiling. “I get it. Okay. A name, then. Just tell me your name.”

She taps a finger to her lips in thought and he really wishes she wouldn’t. He’s having a hard enough time keeping his eyes above sea level as it is.

“I thought you were supposed to be making it up to me. How’s me giving you something you making it up to me?”

Oh, but the library girl is fun.

“Well, I’m trying, but you won’t let me. Figure the least I can do is call you by your name.”

“Hmm.”

She sits back again, picks some fuzz off her cardigan (green today; she’s like a little Christmas elf). Her eyes cut up to his through her lashes and dart away. She straightens a stack of paper.

At last, she says, “Dana.”

“Dana.” He grins. Dana. It’s the prettiest name he’s ever heard.

—

He learns her schedule fast. He should; he’s there every day, leaning over the counter, cataloging her various sweaters and sighs.

He learns other things, too: she only wears glasses when she reads, she likes peanut M&Ms, she blasts through books faster than any person he’s ever seen. Carl Sagan on Monday, Susan Sontag on Tuesday, Toni Morrison on Wednesday, and he starts to suspect this girl might have been a child prodigy way back when. Maybe still is.

A week into this, he asks her—Dana, are you a genius?—and she doesn’t even look at him. Just flips the page, her mouth twisted into something trying not to be a smirk.

“You know,” he continues. It’s easier to talk when she’s not looking directly at him, her eyes like hypnotists’ perfect blue gems. “If you are a genius, you should tell me your last name. For when I hear it on the radio someday, I mean. ‘Dana So-and-So wins Nobel Prize.’ So I know it’s you.”

“Why would I want you to know it’s me?”

“Why wouldn’t you?”

Her jaw twitches, but she still doesn’t look up.

“I’m just saying,” he says. “It’d be nice one day, when you cure cancer or whatever, to be able to say ‘I knew her when.’” He leans down, crowding into her space, and lowers his voice. “And to satisfy everyone’s curiosity. Why, yes, she was always that beautiful.”

She looks up then, a sharp cut through her lashes, a stern glare belied by the soft flush on her cheeks.

“Mulder,” she warns, and he likes the way she says it. Mul-der.

“Yeah?”

She holds his gaze for a moment, and he can see himself reflected in her glasses. His ridiculous grin. The flop of hair he forgot to comb this morning, too concerned with making it to the library before class.

Then she looks away, eyes down, little pink tongue darting out to wet her bottom lip. When she meets his eyes again, she is Professional Dana, all calm and poise.

“I have work to do,” she says and reaches for a stack of bookmarks on the edge of the desk. She taps them straight like a deck of cards.

He grins. “So you’re telling me I should go, then?”

She doesn’t look at him. She’s arranging pens in a cup by color now. “Mm-hmm.”

“And you won’t tell me your last name?”

Black pen, black pen, blue pen, red pen.

“You don’t need it.”

His grin widens and he leans in just a little farther. She doesn’t retreat. He likes that about her.

“If you say so,” he whispers.

She nods, curt. “I do.”

He straightens and hitches his backpack up on one shoulder.

“You’re a cruel woman, Dana,” he says. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She rolls her eyes and he almost—almost—misses the way she smiles when he turns away: small, private, like she doesn’t even mean to be smiling at all

#fox mulder #dana scully #msr #msr fanfic #txf #myfic #there are 46 days until i graduate #my college experience hasn't been nearly as enjoyable as theirs is gonna be #;) ;) ;)#ch 2 is done and will come maybe some time next week!#hope u like it!#but even if u don't!#i like it and am having a ball!#fox mulder is obsessed with dana scully in all universes ok!!!#paracosm

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the-marvel-imagines-blog · 6 years

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Madness | Chpt. 5

Requests are Open

Chapter Title: “Thunder in the Rain”

Pairing: Loki x Original Female Character

Word Count: 7,968

Warnings: angst (I mean, when is it not angsty?), new character alert, also some kissing :*

Name Pronunciations: Hjalmar: “He-all-mar” | Aaldir: “All-deer” | Ephinea: “Eh-fin-ee-uh”

A/N: Y’all are my favorite people in the universe. Thank you so much for reading and enjoying what I’m writing. Even if not every chapter is you cup of tea, it means a lot to see that people are leaving likes, messaging me, reblogging, etc. I love you all so much! Also, please note that I have taken and will be taking a lot of creative liberties pertaining to these characters. This will be shown in excess during the upcoming chapters, so I just wanted to give a bit of a warning.

Tagged: @teddyboobear @alledeglyfunny (anyone who wants to be tagged can message me and ask. It’s not a problem at all)

As I walked away from him, a part of me hoped to hear some kind of regret in his voice or anything at all, even. Instead, I heard nothing. He was silent. Maybe I had to do what everyone had been telling me to do all along: let him go. In my heart, I knew what would have been best for me. I knew that I would have been safer and filled with less grief if I let him go and went to Midgard to be with the Avengers and her. I knew that she would undoubtedly fill the void in my heart that Loki left there, as she had been the one to fill it ever since he fell. Still, I felt responsible for him as well as the Nine Realms. I saw the damage he had done to the world we knew as our second home. His suit was black (the absence of light), gold (what had once been my favorite color), and green (his favorite color-the color of my eyes). He attacked the part of Midgard we had last been to together. It was a night of laughter and happiness for both of us and a memory that was now clouded with pain and darkness. He still used the daggers I had given to him before he left for a battle with Thor-a battle Thor talked the Allfather into keeping me out of, as I was still recovering from the last one.

A piece of me wondered if he had a reason. Maybe he truly didn’t care for me anymore, maybe he lied to me all those years, but for what? What did he have to gain from an orphan girl? He was a God, and I was just another Asgardian. There was nothing extraordinary about me. If he wanted to manipulate someone for so long, why wouldn’t he choose someone with more power? I had to believe that it was more than that. I had to believe that there was something else that I just wasn’t seeing clearly. He was still in there. The man I knew was still holding on and fighting back this new version of himself. I didn’t know what happened or what made him turn on me so quickly, but I had a few theories of my own. Perhaps he found out about my secret from Odin that day, but I still didn’t even know how Odin would know in the first place. Maybe he fell out of love with me quicker than I had ever anticipated he could. I didn’t understand, but it wasn’t for me to try to figure out in the middle of the night when I was still sick from the ale that evening.

I made my way up to the training grounds, casting the illusion just long enough to make it past the guards. Once my eyes were dried, I dropped the illusion, finally visible again. I lifted a dulled sword from the rack and walked over to one of the training dummies before taking out every ounce of anger, frustration, and pain on it. I didn’t need to build my skills with the sword anymore. However, I knew to practice regularly to stay nimble. Tonight, however, was simply to hit the dummy as hard as possible to make my muscles sore. I just wanted to make myself tired enough that I could fall asleep for the rest of my life, and if I couldn’t achieve that, I at least wanted to be tired enough that when I laid down in bed, I could fall asleep immediately. I didn’t want to think of his harsh words or the way he glared at me like it was my fault he fell in the first place. I didn’t want to think of the mistakes I had made or the grief I felt over the loss of a man who meant so much to me.

Listening to the loud crack as my sword hit the dummy over and over again helped drown out the sorrow in my heart and the voices in my head that were even more cruel than Loki could ever even hope to be. As I growled, I thought of every moment in my life that I felt anger, every moment I felt alone, every moment I felt weak. I thought of the night he told me he hated me, the fall, when I saw him on Midgard, when I left her, when Tony Stark shed a tear for me, when she cried. There were so many moments, but they all came rushing back as the wall I had built up to keep them away finally broke down and crumbled into nothing. Suddenly, I heard a loud crack and opened my eyes to see that my last swing of the sword had been too successful, as the blade lay broken on the ground.

“For a woman as peaceful as yourself, you sure like breaking swords when you’re angry,” Thor’s voice rang out from behind me.

I whipped around, surprised by his presence. I hadn’t heard him coming, and I certainly didn’t feel him because of my clouded thoughts. As soon as I looked at him, my mind quieted once more. He was a peaceful soul with eyes as deep as the oceans. He leaned against one of the pillars with his arms crossed over his chest. His robes cascaded over his broad shoulders, and he wore a slight grin upon his lips. I shook my head, dropping the handle of the sword, which would be of no more use, “I apologize if I woke you,” I murmured, attempting to walk past him. I was in no mood for speaking as my frustration had not been washed away completely.

He caught my arm before I could pass him, and as my chest continued to heave, he spoke, “you did not wake me, Lady Eva. I figured that after you visited Loki, you would come here,” he said, hinting at the fact that he already knew what I had been up to that night. My mouth gaped open as I searched for any possible explanation other than the one he proposed. Before I could lie, he continued, “my brother has been playing tricks on me since we were children. Do you not think I can tell? Plus, I’ve known you since we were children, and I knew you would go down to see him at some point,” he shrugged.

“I had to. You can be mad, you can tell the Allfather, you can do whatever you need to do, and I won’t be upset. All I ask is that you continue fighting for him the way I have,” I said, straightening my shoulders, “I will accept whatever punishment my King sees fit.”

“Your King will never know,” Thor replied in a hushed but stern voice, “I will not be speaking a word of this to my father. You did what needed to be done, something he doesn’t believe is worth the time or energy. You’ve looked out for my brother since we were kids, and I would’ve been ignorant to believe that you would just stop because of what happened on Midgard. You still see the good in him, and I admire that because I still love him just as much as you do,” he added, “how was he?”

I stepped back over to him, and he released my arm from his grasp. I motioned around the training grounds, “well, I’m out here, so it didn’t go as well as I had anticipated. He’s still hurting, and it continues to break my heart every time I see him. I can feel his pain just as I could before, but it’s amplified.I just don’t know if I can keep doing this to myself, Thor. I don’t know if I can keep trying to save someone who doesn’t want to be saved. It would kill me to abandon him like this. His mind is chaos. He needs a moment of clarity, of peace, but...maybe I can’t give that to him,” I answered the best way I could.

“Who better to show him that moment of clarity than you?” he asked, gazing down at me with eyes that shined like the sun on my darkest day. While every other love I felt paled in comparison to that which I shared with Loki, Thor brought something else into my life, something more beautiful than life itself. He reminded me that life was not about power or status, it was about living. He had a love for all living things that matched my own, and I loved him all the more for it. Thor never pushed me away, “you have done so much for him, Eva. You may not think you’ve done enough, but you’ve done more than everyone else put together. You have sacrificed more than anyone else. All I know is that you need to take fate into your own hands sometimes. Maybe you find that you don’t want to wait for cooperation from Loki or the Allfather. All I know is that you have allowed others to control your destiny for too long, and it’s time for you to take your control back,” he added, “and if you need to talk or cry or scream, you know that I’m always here.”

My eyes filled up with tears, and I pushed them back, having cried more than enough over the situation. It felt like I couldn’t stop since the fall. It was that moment that I made the promise to myself: I would be weak no longer. I would weep over my situation no longer. I could mourn for the man Loki once was or give him no other option other than to accept my help. As my chest continued to heave due to the unchecked frustration, I grabbed the back of Thor’s neck and attacked his lips with my own. It was the only thing that felt right. It only lasted for a second before the shock forced him away from me, and he held me at a short distance. He cleared his throat, color filling his cheeks, “why did-what are you...we can’t do this when you’re still a bit drunk, Eva. I don’t know if this is you or the ale from earlier, but...you aren’t in the right state of mind for this right now,” he noted, chuckling to lighten the mood.

“Does that really matter anymore?” I asked, closing the space between us once more, and he allowed me, “I want this. Do you want this?” I asked, gazing up into his eyes.

He sighed, “you know I do, and you know I’ve wanted this for a long time. There’s a reason I haven’t done anything since we were young, though, Eva. You belong with Loki, and I don’t want to get in the way of that. I love both of you too much to ruin what you have,” he whispered, his arm snaking around my waist, telling a very different story than the one spilling from his lips.

“What do you think you would be ruining? The rubble of our love? Do you think you can shatter heart we shared anymore? Could you kill a flower that was already dead?” I asked, realizing that, while I loved Loki more than life itself, he loved me no longer, “I will love your brother until the day I die, but he has hurt me so much, I think I deserve a moment of happiness. I deserve to remember the sweetness of love, which is something I have forgotten the taste of for so long. Remind me...please,” I begged, grasping onto his robes in a desperate attempt to let him know that I would not hold anything against him.

He searched my eyes for any hesitation that could have been lingering there, but he found none. He found only loneliness and grief. Perhaps he felt sorry for me, or perhaps he was giving into urges that had lain dormant since our childhood. Either way, he kissed me. I threw my arms around his neck as he lifted me off the ground. I wrapped my legs around his waist, grunting lightly when he pressed me against the pillar he had been leaning on only moments ago. His lips were smoother than I had remembered them, and I could feel the areas he bit when he was nervous. As his left hand grasped my thigh, offering me an extra level of support aside from the pillar, his right hand steadied my face as he kissed me with more passion than I’d ever anticipated.

To my disapproval, his lips departed from mine, and he began to sprinkle kisses along my jaw and down to my neck, a place Loki always loved. As I squeezed my eyes shut, I forced the thought of him from my mind and focused on Thor. When he grazed his teeth against my neck, I arched my body into his, feeling a shiver run through me. As I arched into him, his arms wrapped around my body, squeezing me against him hard enough for me to feel every muscle and every crease even through the clothes. For the first time in such a long time, I felt small in someone’s arms. Aaldir, Hjalmar, and Loki always made me feel that way, like I never needed to worry when they were around. However, she had the opposite effect on me. I was the one to make her feel small, the one to protect her. Ever since her, I had not felt like the small one until now.

With one arm still draped over his shoulder, balancing myself, I grabbed his face with my other hand and turned his head so that he was looking into my eyes. I saw joy and desire and so much anticipation. I pressed my lips to his once more before pulling away and trailing kisses along his defined jaw and down to his neck. His hold on me tightened as I ran my lips along a sensitive spot. As I kissed him, he walked us down the hallway toward his chambers. He opened the doors with his back and shut them with his foot. When we were finally in the comfort of his room, he peeled me off of him and pushed me down onto the bed. I chewed on my bottom lip and laughed as his eyes scanned over my body.

Before I could react or speak, he joined me on the bed, nestling his body between my legs and proceeding to kiss me once more. As soon as I felt his warmth, Loki’s face flashed behind my closed eyes. I tried to blink away the tears in my eyes, but it was like he could feel my hesitance. He pulled away from the kisses and pushed himself off of me in an attempt to figure out where he had gone wrong. I shook my head, trying to collect myself, but I was failing miserably. The promise I made to myself such a short time ago was already being broken as I began to cry, “I’m sorry, Thor. I’m sorry,” I broke down, hiding my face in my hands. I felt so much guilt in that moment, so much anger at myself for being so stupid as to believe that I could just replace the love I received from Loki.

As soon as I began to cry, Thor crawled over to me and wrapped me up in his strong arms, “I know that you don’t want to hear this right now, but as your friend, I need to say it,” he stated as my body quivered and trembled in the arms of the man I wished I was meant to be with. If I was destined to be with Thor, my life would have been so much easier because he would have loved me from the very beginning until the very end. I wouldn’t have felt this pain. Maybe I was just cursed, though. Maybe it was my fault that Loki was hurt the way he was. Maybe I was at the center of his pain. Before my mind could continue down the darkened trail any further, Thor spoke, “I love you, Eva. I have loved you since before I can remember, and I’ve never stopped loving you. For a long time, I wished that you chose me instead of Loki. I wished that you would find happiness with me, but I always knew that you two were meant for each other. Even though it kills me to say it, you and I don’t belong together. You belong with Loki. You always have. And I can’t let my love for you ruin your relationship anymore than it already has,” he said, grief clear in his deep voice.

I shook my head, wiping my tears away as I found the strength to gaze up at him, “you didn’t ruin our relationship, Thor. You had nothing to do with this,” I murmured.

He sighed, “there’s something I need to tell you.”

*Thor’s POV*

I had been more surprised that she stayed after I told her the story of that day, more surprised than I was that she didn’t try to hit me. Instead, we shed tears together, and I sat with her until she fell asleep. After I told her what happened and apologized profusely, she lessened my guilt by being adamant about how it wasn’t my fault. Still, I could see the pain the truth brought her. She was heartbroken, and she went to sleep that way. A piece of me wished I had kept it from her, but it had been two years of her questioning why Loki turned his back on her, and I knew the truth.

Unable to sleep, I found myself with Heimdall in the Bifrost. Though even looking at the Bifrost brought Eva a sense of misery, she spent much time in the very spot I was standing, and I knew that it was because the her fear and sadness over that fateful day paled in comparison to love she had for the Midgardians and...her. She asked about them often, and Heimdall would always fill her in on the health and well-being of each of them. She was always the most concerned about Tony, the two of them having a special connection that I could not understand. Steve also held a special place in her heart, which I could understand much more. He was a soldier and always put the needs of everyone else above his own. He didn’t like to fight, but he did so that others could know peace. Eva did the same.

As I stood next to Heimdall, staring out at the stars, I felt his gaze shift over to me for a fraction of a second, “you told her,” he noted, clearly having cast his gaze upon us when he felt her distress. The two of them were connected the same way her and I were connected. It paled in comparison to Loki’s connection to her, but we could feel when something wasn’t quite right.

I nodded my head, “I didn’t know what else to do. I couldn’t keep it from her any longer. She deserved to know the truth,” I insisted, feeling guilty that I brought her to an even deeper level of grief but feeling hopeful that it would help her see the truth, that she had done nothing wrong, “she’s become far more destructive since Hjalmar’s death, and I sensed that she was spiraling. She’s lost so much. She blames herself for Hjalmar’s death, and she blames herself for Aaldir’s sorrow. She blames herself for Loki’s turn and believed it to have been her fault, like she could’ve stopped him from wreaking havoc on Midgard. She had every right to know the truth,” I added

“You are not wrong,” he stated, gazing back out at the stars, “she sacrificed so much for Loki, but I fear that she will now try even harder to free him, even if it means committing treason. She has no reason to show the Allfather anymore respect, for she now knows that he played a pivotal role in pushing your brother over the edge,” he added, and I gazed over at his solemn expression. He lowered his grief-stricken eyes, “I fear for her safety if she tries to disobey the orders of the King.”

“You have my word that I will do everything in my power to keep her from doing anything reckless, but she has never listened to me the way she listened to Hjalmar,” I said, thinking of one of my dearest friends, “how is he?” I asked, hoping for some words of comfort about Hjalmar’s new home in Valhalla.

Heimdall sighed, “I...cannot see him,” he confessed, hesitant to speak the words to me. I furrowed my eyebrows, confused as to how the gatekeeper and the guardian of the Nine Realms could lose track of someone. Before I could ask any questions, he turned his haunting gaze upon me, “I have searched for him, hoping to regale Eva with some stories of him when she came; however, I have not found him. I have searched every realm, every planet, every moon. I have searched the entirety of Valhalla, and I even looked for him in the Realm of the Dead. Still, I have found nothing,” he said, turning back to the stars, “I suggest keeping this between us for the time being. There is no need to put her through anymore pain right now,” he stated, strongly.

I nodded my head, “but what if she comes to you and asks about him?”

He frowned, the mere thought of it bringing a sour taste to his mouth, “then I will be forced to break the heart of a princess.”

*1 week later*

After another night spent watching over Eva and getting barely any sleep, I found myself standing beside my father, the man who was the cause of so much of her grief. She knew it now. She knew what he had done, and while I was surprised that she didn’t hate me for the role I had to play in Loki’s downfall, I was unsure of how generous she would be with my father. The two of us watched her as she practically danced around the training grounds with Sif and Ephinea. She hated fighting, but there was a side of her that came out when she fought that I had never seen before. She was skilled in battle the way no other man or woman could ever even hope to be. She blocked the attacks from each of the goddesses, and the two of them pulled no punches. Sif and Ephinea never went easy on Eva, so for Eva to hold her own against the Goddess of War and the Goddess of Strength, respectively, said so much about her skills.

As gracefully as she blocked what would have been a “finishing blow” from Ephinea, she began to take the offensive, swinging the dulled swords and moving like the ocean. I had gotten the chance to see her on the battlefield so many times throughout my life, and it always left me in awe. She had a plethora of her own weapons, many of which Aaldir had crafted for her or helped in the crafting process. He had given her two short swords that she used on occasion, and he also gave her the greatsword she used most of the time. Loki had gifted her a set of daggers, which were delicately crafted but stronger than anyone could anticipate due to their beauty. She danced around Sif and Ephinea, fighting both of them and successfully knocking them down and finishing them. After her success, she helped them back up onto their feet before starting again. I glanced over at my father, “she has grown far more skilled in the art of battle than even you could have anticipated,” I smiled, gesturing to her.

He nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips underneath his beard, “if this is how you plan to sway my mind on the matters she has brought up time and again, it will not work,” he reminded me.

I shrugged my shoulders, “it wasn’t my intention, but it would’ve been nice,” I stated, gazing upon the girl who was so strong but so broken, “she has a point, you know...about Loki,” I murmured, wanting my words to be between us. I watched as his eyebrows raised in shock, which was understandable as I had always been fairly quiet on the matter, never explicitly taking anyone’s side, “I don’t believe you to be delusional, which is why I think you know-as well as she does-that Loki doesn’t belong in the dungeons. He is far more dangerous around people who think like him. His mind was corrupted far more after he fell. Even if we could get him back to the way he was before, when he was only trying to take over the throne, instead of killing hundreds of innocent people on Midgard, it would be better than leaving him down there,” I explained, hoping that he would listen to me with an open heart and open mind, unlike when he listened to Eva make the same case about Loki.

He gazed over at me, the icy blue eye as solemn as ever, “so, you are proposing the same thing? I release Loki into Eva’s care, knowing that he is a weakness for her? Knowing that she could never do what needed to be done if it came to it?” he asked, “I simply implore you to think through every scenario,” he added, sensing that he had offended me.

I narrowed my eyes at him, knowing that he was not completely sincere, “no, you are asking me to doubt her. You are asking me to trust her less, but you don’t know her the way I do. You didn’t see her on Midgard the way I saw her. You have no idea what she has done-the sacrifices she has made-for the good of the Nine Realms, for the good of Asgard. You don’t see what she has given up, but I have,” I growled under my breath, angry that he would try to plant the seed of doubt in my mind.

He shook his head, “I do not wish for you to doubt her, but I do wish for you to look at this from a place of objectivity. If you did, you would have the same doubts I do,” he replied, a voice as calm as the breeze that morning.

“I can look at this objectively, and that’s why I believe she could take on this task. While we cannot go back and rewrite the past, she can turn the tides in our favor. If she were somehow able to turn Loki back to our side, think of what our strength could be with an ally like him! We would be much stronger with him as our ally than with him as our enemy,” I exclaimed, gesturing out at her, “look at her, Father! Truly see her for what she is! She’s no goddess, but she possesses the same skills as one. I don’t think this is coincidence. I truly believe that she is meant to be much more than another Asgardian woman.”

“You have much to learn about her, my son,” he frowned, trying to force a smile and failing. I watched as the look in his eye became distant, like he was revisiting a memory that brought him pain. He tried to push it away, but it lingered there.

I shook my head, “I know all there is to know about her. I know her better than I know myself most of the time,” I chuckled, gazing out at the woman I was in love with. For a long time, I fancied Ephinea and Sif. The two women were stronger than anyone gave them credit for, but I couldn’t talk to them the same way I could talk to Eva. Eva was just...special. I knew every little thing about her, even though I was sure my brother knew far more, things I couldn’t even imagine. I glanced back up at my father, “there’s nothing I don’t know,” I assured him, thinking of the many secrets she had hidden from him, secrets he would never even know.

“There is so much you don’t know about her, so much that you need to know,” he said, a sad smile spreading across his lips as he gazed out at her once more before stepping away from the railing and turning to face down the hallway, “walk with me and learn,” he motioned, and I obeyed, falling in step with him and casting one final glance back at Eva. Once we were far enough away from the prying eyes and ears of everyone else, he began speaking, slowing his pace, “before you or I, before my father and his father before him, Asgard was created. Where once there had been nothing, we received a land of beauty, peace, and salvation. This was the place where the Asgardians could call home, a place that was more beautiful and rich with life than any other, and we took it all for granted,” he explained.

“The land began to dry up. Where there had once been lush forests and beautiful mountains in the distance, it was barren. The Asgardians who lived her long ago took from the world but never thought to give back. They built this city upon her natural beauty, hiding the plentiful gifts she bore to them. The creeks and streams began to dry up. People believed that it was the world’s way of grieving. She had always provided for them, always gave more of herself than they could possibly take, but they did not rejoice as their ancestors once did. They took the gift of life for granted, and they took this realm for granted. They did not thank the world for her blessings, and they did not live their lives the way we were meant to,” he continued.

“The drought of the world continued. Food was more difficult to come by, and we were running out of fresh water. We began sending people to various realms to acquire what we needed and bring it back here. We had already stripped our world of all she had to offer, and we were doing the same with as many others as possible. Life was dwindling, and we were unsure about the future of Asgard,” he said before letting out a long sigh. When I cast my eyes over to his face, I saw that he was reliving a memory that haunted him, and a sadness came over him that I hadn’t seen before, “I had an older brother growing up, a man I’ve never spoken about, a man no one speaks of anymore,” he confessed.

I furrowed my eyebrows, wondering how it could be that an entire piece of Asgard’s history was lost to me, “I forbid his name to be spoken, and there are not many who remember him, not the way I do,” he frowned, “Cul was older, stronger, and much more capable than I was. He believed himself to be the rightful King of Asgard, and when my father-your grandfather-died, Cul took the throne for himself. My father had groomed me to take his place after he died, but my brothers and I allowed Cul to rule because of his promise to keep us as his close advisors, a promise he broke shortly after his coronation. He picked from a group of his loyal followers to be his advisors. It wasn’t until he took the throne that we saw just how twisted he was, how his desire to rule festered into a madness we had never seen before.”

As we walked into the throne room, he stopped and stared up at the golden throne for a long moment, “he ordered that we strip the other planets of their resources, and if we were met with hesitation, we were to take the resources by force. He wanted to make it clear that no one would stand in his way. A part of me wants to believe that he had good intentions, that he wanted to show the Nine Realms that Asgard was still a powerful seat. However, the more he took from other planets, the faster ours was dying, so my brothers and I did what needed to be done. We stopped him,” he said, frowning at the memory. I could tell that it brought him so much pain even recalling it, so I couldn’t imagine the pain he went through when he lived it so long ago, “there was a bloodbath in this throne room. My younger brothers fell that day along with so many others, and it came down to just Cul and I. He had sent his followers away to spare their lives because he knew I wouldn’t kill him, that I would spare his life because of the ancient rules, rules he never followed but rules I couldn’t break,” he explained, glancing back over at me.

I furrowed my eyebrows, “but you broke them on that day?” I guessed, hoping it to be true.

He shook his head, a few strands of white hair falling out of place, “I couldn’t, and it wasn’t because of the ancient rules. I couldn’t kill him because he was my brother, he wasn’t the King of Asgard, not to me. I couldn’t kill him because I could still remember running around the palace with him and getting in trouble for fooling around for too long when I should have been studying battle techniques. Instead, I banished him to the Realm of Death, hoping that Death would be able to do to him what I could not bring myself to do. It was where he belonged. He delivered so many souls to Death that day alone that he deserved to face them all once more,” he said, glancing back over at the throne and narrowing his eyes, “but if I could go back with the knowledge I have now, I would have killed him when I had the chance because-”

Before he could explain his reasoning, a booming voice caused the entirety of Asgard to quake beneath our feet. It was the first time in my life I saw pure fear in my father’s eyes, “Odin!”

*Eva’s POV*

I stood in the courtyard that overlooked the Rainbow Bridge. Thor and Odin stood side-by-side in front of Sif, Ephinea, Fandral, Hogun, Volstagg, and I. Behind us were members of Odin’s kingsguard. While I had not wished to even wake up at all that week-let alone see the Allfather-I stood there out of the love I had for Asgard and my willingness to protect the people from any intruder, including the one that stood before us with his battleaxe strapped to his back. He stood the same height as Hjalmar once did, only slightly taller than the God of Thunder himself. The man before us all held himself like a King with his shoulder straightened and his head held high. He looked massive, like he was a force to be reckoned with. I had never met him, but he looked so oddly familiar to me, like a face I had seen only once before.

Dark brown hair that matched his short beard fell in waves nearly as long as mine, but he pulled the strands from his face and fastened them behind his head to see clearly. Even from our distance, I could see myself clearly in his piercing green eyes. Those eyes were filled with so much anger, so much hatred, but they were still so beautiful and pure...a green that matched the colors of spring. My breath hitched in my throat, and it felt like I was going to suffocate. I knew those eyes. I knew them from somewhere, and when he spoke, I began trembling with unchecked fear, “I am Ezra, son of Cul, and I have been sent here by my father, Cul, son of Bor, the rightful heir to the throne of Asgard. I have been instructed to deliver a message to the usurper, your false king,” he spat out, grimacing at Odin. I was shocked by his words, unsure whether or not they were truthful. I had never heard of Odin having any brothers aside from Vili and Ve, and neither of them had any children of their own. It was clear by the looks on the faces of my comrades that I was not the only one who was confused by his claims.

Even if he did, Odin was our King, and for an outsider to show up in Asgard and insult the throne, it was unacceptable. While I was angry at Odin for justifiable reasons, I did not hate him, and I would still fight to protect Asgard and her people. As I made a motion to step forward, Ephinea put out her hand to hold me back. When I tried to pass her still, she grabbed my arm, making her movements as small and unnoticeable as possible to keep from gaining the attention of the the outsider. She gave my wrist a gentle squeeze, trying to remind me without words that this wasn’t the right time. The small motions still pulled the attention of Ezra, and he glanced over at me in particular. His green eyes scanned over my body, and he smirked, “you’re just itching to kill me, aren’t you?” he asked before glancing back at Odin, “I see why you keep some of your best warriors chained up in the dungeons-like your son. It must be terrifying to have this one roaming around,” he said, gesturing to me.

A fury erupted in my chest as he mentioned Loki. I gritted my teeth, my chest continuing to rise and fall at an alarming rate. Still, I remained silent, not wishing to escalate the situation. Odin spoke up, “did you come here to discuss the population of Asgard’s dungeons, or do you have another motive?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow with a mischievous grin. He was pulling a page out of Loki’s book, smiling in the face of danger. It was one of the things that made me love Loki even more, and it made me see Odin as so much more than I had been willing to in the past. In that moment, he became so much more three-dimensional than ever before. While he had forsaken Loki in the past and made his own mistakes, there was a piece of him that still loved the young trickster. When I saw him find his confidence the way Loki did, it made me think of the impact Loki’s actions must’ve had on the Allfather. While I wished to speak with Odin about it, I knew that this was neither the time nor the place for such discussions.

Ezra cast one more glance over at me with a smirk that made me sick to my stomach, but he turned his attention back to Odin when I grimaced at him, “my father sent me with his demands. In his exile, he has been building allegiances with many people within the Nine Realms and beyond, and I can assure you that none of them are particularly fond of Asgard. They would be willing and able to tear Asgard apart at my father’s command, but he is willing to go about this peacefully,” Ezra stated in a menacing tone.

“And what does Cul want in return for his promise of peace?” Odin inquired.

Ezra chuckled, stepping forward, “he wants the throne back, the throne you stole from him,” he growled, pointing a finger at the Allfather, “he demands you hand over the throne of Asgard, and in return, you will be exiled to the Realm of Death just like you did to him. As I see it, you have two options: you can surrender and meet his demands, which will lead to a peaceful life for your people; or, you can resist, which will lead to our return and the subsequent bloodbath that will take place. Either way, we will take the throne of Asgard, but your decision could save thousands,” Ezra said, offering Odin the ultimatum as if he was in any position to do that. He came to Asgard with no supporters behind him and threatened a King with the entire Asgardian army at his disposal.

Odin smiled at the man in front of him, and I saw the condescending undertones, causing me to smile as well. While I harbored some ill will toward him upon recent news, I could not bring myself to hate him or declare that he was a poor king. He held himself with strength and dignity, which was something that would not work in the strangers favor, “you forget the third option,” he smirked, and Ezra cocked his head, clenching his fists, “it’s where I let your armies come, and I defeat Cul just like I did all those years ago. I had no problem doing it then, and I won’t fail now. You do not look for peace, but I pity you if you try to fight us. We know much about what must be sacrificed to maintain peace, and I do not wish for a war. However, I will do what needs to be done should your father attempt to wage a war against Asgard and her allies,” he explained, “so, you can tell my brother that his proposition was met with resistance.”

Ezra chuckled, stepping even closer to Odin. As soon as he was too close, the entire army behind us drew their weapons, but Odin raised a hand, wishing to entertain the boy for even longer. I listened to the warriors lower their weapons, but they did not put them back in the sheathe. I glanced down at Thor’s hands that were balled up in fists. Ezra leaned in close to Odin and spoke, “well, I came here for your surrender, and I’m not about to leave empty-handed,” he murmured before stepping away from the two of them and pointing at me. Once more, his eyes trailed along every piece of my body before locking eyes with me, “I’ll take that one,” he dictated, closing the space between the two of us.

Before he could stand directly in front of me, Ephinea stepped between the two of us, “try to take her, and I will rip you in half with my bare hands,” she threatened, rage clear in her voice. She had always been like an older sister to me, so it didn’t surprise me that she would react like that to someone who was threatening my safety.

Ezra glanced over at her but then back at me, “call off your dog, pet,” he instructed, cocking his head to the side with a smile filled with false admiration.

I scowled at the nickname he decided to give me, and I felt a chill run down my spine at the thought that I could be traded off to ensure peace, even if that peace would be short-lived. Odin’s stunned silence was not helping ease my troubled thoughts, but I had to act with strength and grace just as I always tried to, just as my father taught me all my life. I raised my hand and rested it upon Ephinea’s shoulder as I stepped out from behind her. She gazed over at me, horrified and flustered because of my actions. She had no idea what I was planning to do or why I was planning to do it, but I offered her a short glance that I hoped would set her mind at ease. When I stepped between her and Ezra, he didn’t break eye contact with me. He smirked, one of his eyes twitching ever so slightly as he narrowed them at me.

He searched my eyes-for what, I didn’t know-and when he didn’t find what he was looking for, he grabbed my chin and brought his face impossibly closer to mine, “tell me, what is it you want, pet? Do you wish for acceptance? Strength? Power? A real family? A place where you belong?” he asked, “I’m sorry to break your heart, but you won’t find any of that here, not with the current ruler. And, what about Loki? I’m sure you want him back, too, don’t you?” he asked, causing my breath to hitch in my throat. How did Ezra know about Loki? How did he know about my deepest desires? As I stared up at him with wide eyes, terrified that he was able to pick me apart so easily. He raised his eyebrows, sympathy crossing over his face, “you have so much to learn, beautiful, and if you cooperate, we’ll give you the answers you seek and the opportunity to live out the rest of your life with Loki,” he murmured before grabbing a fistful of my hair and pulling me even closer to him, “but should you fail, I will find your girl on Midgard and tear her apart in front of you just for fun!” he growled, my heart twisting and shattering into a million pieces before he pushed me down onto the ground.

“THAT’S ENOUGH!” Thor’s loud voice boomed, almost like thunder itself. I could barely think of anything aside from Ezra’s threat. I was paralyzed with fear at the very idea that enemies of Asgard knew about her, that they could use her against me. Thor spoke as I tried to collect myself, “you are sorely mistaken if you think we’ll just hand her over to you. Now, we have entertained this madness for long enough. If you try to take her, you will not live to see another sunrise,” Thor promised, glancing down at me and nodding his head. I knew that I would have nothing to fear with Thor by my side. Even if Odin, for some reason, wanted to send me away, Thor would betray his father just to keep me safe.

Ezra chuckled again, laughing in the face of the God of Thunder, “I haven’t seen a sunrise in nearly 300 years,” he confessed, and a piece of my heart broke for him. I couldn’t help but see small pieces of Loki in him, the anger, the pain, the hate. I had nothing to compare Ezra to, though. I knew the man Loki used to be, so I knew that pieces of him were still alive. Still, everyone could be saved, and that included the enemies of Asgard. Ezra continued, “no matter! I’m used to taking what I want by any means necessary, and I don’t lose,” he said before unsheathing his axe in one swift motion and swinging it down toward Thor.

In the split second it took Ezra to begin the attack, I jumped up to my feet and drew Hellbreaker, one of the many swords my father had helped forge for me. Right before his blade could graze my prince, I stepped in front of it, catching the handle of his battleaxe with the blade of my sword and stopping him from hurting Thor. His eyes widened in clear astonishment. I was sure someone like him didn’t anticipate anything extraordinary, especially not from the person he nicknamed “pet” only moments prior. I pushed him away from the Thor and I, “you don’t lose?” I asked, grinning up at the intruder, “well, neither do I!”

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silviasutton1989 · 7 years

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Karaoke! (MaxwellxMC)

Author’s Note: Ok I don’t want the title to throw anyone off this story is about all the characters (Liam Drake and Olivia are in it as well. They are just the first two. really the only reason i made this chapter was because I needed to explain some things for the next two. So I hope its a quick read for you all. You can read the next chapter HERE.

RATING: PG

SUMMARY: No one has ever dared to go to Karaoke with Maxwell, that is until tonight. When a slight setback occurs they gang finds themselves given help by an unlikely source.

KARAOKE!!!!!!

Maxwell exclaims as he bursts through Riley's door.

She continues to put on her makeup not surprised at all by his intrusion, Maxwell has been up and down the hall screaming Karaoke for the past five minutes.

"So I guess we are doing karaoke tonight?" Riley teases.

"Riley this is the best night of my life! Do you know how many times I have been trying to get anyone to come to karaoke with me!"He runs to Riley smushing her with the tightest hug His breathe is loud and short from all his movements.

"So is anyone else coming?' Riley pats him on the shoulder and he soon releases his grip. He leans against her boudoir and tries to calm himself.

"Well you know Liam has his Royal obligations. Hanna said she would try to meet us there she is waiting on a call from her parents. I tried to ask Olivia but I swear to you she looked me in the eyes and I was temporarily petrified."

Riley looks up to see him shudder at the thought of Olivia. They both share a deep laugh.

"No seriously I blacked out for a good minute once I came to she was gone."

"What about Drake?" Riley asks coley

"Oh I think he heard me screaming down the hall because he locked his door on me."

"What if he just wasn't in there?"

"No he also yelled "Go Away Maxwell" from behind the door."

"You still want to go right?"

"Yes of course well get a taxi and sing the night away. Just you and me like Sonny and Cher"

"Or Ike and Tina" Maxwell chimed in.

They begin walking out the door and as Maxwell opens it Liam is standing in the doorway just seconds away from knocking.

"I heard you two were having a karaoke night?" a smile growing over Liam's face as he looks Riley in her eyes "May I join you?"

Maxwell exclaims, "Great now we are a trio like Destiny's Child or Narvana"

"Wow Maxwell you know a wide range of American music" she smiles and moves her focus to Liam "So no important royal functions to attend to Liam?"

"No Lady Riley I have decreed that tonight will only be for full unadulterated fun. That is if you will have me?"

Liam smiles and Riley cant help but to smile in return "Well let's go!"

"So Liam" Maxwell begins as they start to walk down the hall."How's your Freddy Mercury because now that we got 3 people we can do a tree part harmony on Bohemian Rhapsody"

"Maxwell that song is like 30 minutes long!" Liam laughs

"Actually its only a little over 6 and I have been practicing getting all the harmonies just right. I will let you do the 1st 2 verses with the hole "Mamma just killed a man" but I get the "Scaramouch" part. Now if you don't feel prepared how about some Bee Gees?"

They continue to walk down the hall a door to their left swings open.

Drake stands in the doorway his right pants leg is stuffed into his white tube sock.

"Hey so we're going out tonight huh? Why didn't anyone invite me?

Maxwell eyes widen "I tried to but you told me--"

"Oh don't worry I forgive you let's go!"

Maxwell and Liam continue their conversation unaware for the slow pace Drake and Riley have behind them.

"Sutton. Wouldn't put you down as a karaoke girl." Drake keeps his gaze ahead hands crossed behind his back.

"So let me guess you heard Liam in the hallway got jealous and hurriedly put on your clothes?" She points to his sock and he quickly pulls out his pants leg.

"I told you Sutton." Drake assures as he helps her down the exit steps. "I'm not the possessive type I don't get jealous."

Before Riley could respond she sees Liam speaking to his limo driver.

"Your majesty my deepest apologies are in order I somehow have a flat and cannot drive you tonight." He points to his tires and the gang notice that two are completely deflated.

"Sir I took the liberty of asking if any of your guest wouldn't mind allowing you to use their drivers. And after a little negotiation I managed to find one who was happy to oblige. If you will please follow me."

The driver leads them to a nearby stretch limo and opens the door Liam thanks him and hops right into the dark filled car. It isn't until all four are in that they realize who the gracious royal is.

Once inside Riley looks around the dark limo. She squints to make out a figure seating across from her.

"Wait I know that smell." Drake says cautiously as Riley looks for a light. The red hair green eyes and blinding smile appears before them.

"Welcome" She chuckles. Her voice shocks the gang as everyone jumps a little from the sound of her. The street lights castes clarity through the limo as it began to drive away from the train.

"Olivia" was all that Drake could state.

Liam, who is sitting closest to her, takes a minute to calm is heart then softly grabs her hand.

"Lady Olivia what a pleasant surprise. You have done us a great service tonight. Not only will you allow us to use your driver but you are joining in on the fun."

"Thank you your highness! Why I heard about your limo and out of fear of you having to submit yourself in a taxi like some commoner..."

She glances at Riley and Drake her eyes cold but warms once she returns back to Liam. "I knew I had to intervene."

Riley clears her throat. "Well thank you Olivia do you like Karaoke?"

"I cant say I am familiar with this villager custom." She pays no mind to Riley as she answers her eyes are focused on Liam keeping his left hand firmly in her's while softly stroking it with her free one. "But I'm sure Liam and I can manage."

Riley rolls her eyes and looks at Maxwell who has completely passed out. She nudges Drake who lightly slaps him to come to.

"Karaoke!!"

Drake laughs and leans back into his seat next to Riley. He could easily see her dress had gathered quit a bit as she sat, her light brown thigh teasing him painfully. The car grew quite as they rode . Maxwell on his phone, Olivia and Liam conversing, and Riley looking out the window. It was there in the dark, a surge of confidence grew within Drake. He subtly rubs her revealing thigh with the side of his thumb.

The excitement of that subtle but consistent touch sends chills through Riley and she leans back for a second to enjoy his graze in and out of the hem of her dress. Across from her sat poor Liam unable to reclaim his hand from Olivia who has now placed it around her shoulder. And next to her was Drake, teasing her right in front of him, in front of everyone. Knowing full well she would spend the rest of the night only thinking about his hands and where else she wanted them to be. In her mind, Drake was sending a message. He knew the hold he has on her and he wanted to remind her of that. Just the thought of this angered Riley she pulls down the hem of her dress so that it reaches her knees and shifts her body towards the window. And although she was not looking in Drake's direction she could still clearly see the look of confusion on his face through his reflection on the tinted window.

#maxwell beaumont #the royal romance #choices trr #trr drake #trr liam #kareoke

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inawickedlittletown · 6 years

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Walking The Wire (28/?)

Summary: Tony Stark always knew about Peter Parker. He didn’t know that Peter was going to get superpowers and become Spider-Man, but he always knew about Peter because Peter was his son.

This will span from pre-Iron Man up through the rest of the MCU (eventually including Infinity War) and will be for the most part canon compliant except where I’ve taken some liberties and interpreted canon a certain way.

Pairings: Pepper/Tony, Tony/Steve (endgame), Tony/Mary (past)

A/N: If you want me to tag you when I post new chapters let me know. This fic is also on AO3

I used Collider’s MCU timeline to stay canon and the title of this fic is an Imagine Dragons song that is just so fitting for Peter and Tony

Masterpost

Chapter Twenty Seven

Spider-Man started to be mentioned more and more mostly online never really by name because no one seemed to know what to call him just yet, but with variations of descriptors. Peter didn’t know if he was glad to get the recognition or not. On the one hand he really liked the feeling he got when he heard someone talking about him, but on the other he had afraid that someone was going to find out who he was. In the end, he decided it didn’t really matter because the whole point of it was to help and save people. It did turn out to be hard work, but Peter loved it. He loved being Spider-Man even if it meant that he was sneaking out of his bedroom window and that he was lying to Aunt May. He didn’t think he would have gotten away with it if Uncle Ben had still been around. Aunt May wouldn’t have been as distracted by her grief. She just wasn’t as alert as she used to be. Peter could admit to himself, though, that juggling everything wasn’t always easy.

“Are you alright?” Ned asked as they were leaving their class for the day.

He asked all the time when he remembered about Ben and how it might be affecting Peter. Peter didn’t blame him for forgetting and he actually didn’t like talking about it, but he still appreciated that Ned cared.

“I’m okay,” he said.

“Are you sure?”

Peter nodded and he tried not to seem to impatient. He wanted to go out to patrol and Ned was holding him up, but he couldn’t just brush off his friend.

“Do you want to come over?” Ned asked.

“I can’t,” Peter said, “but maybe another day? I just have to get home. See you tomorrow.”

He walked off before Ned could say anything else and almost ran Michelle over. She slapped his arm and gave him a glare as he passed with something muttered that Peter didn’t even catch. Once he was outside, he rushed away and as soon as he could find a good spot, he changed into his Spider-Man outfit. One day he would make it a lot cooler than just sweats and a mask with goggles. There were ideas that he’d actually written down about it’. He just didn’t have the means to fix it just yet especially since Peter couldn’t really sew.

He climbed up to the top of a building to find a good perch from where to look for anything going wrong and when he didn’t find anything immediately he decided to take a few videos of himself as Spider-Man. Peter had been planning on putting a few of them online under a username that couldn’t be traced back to him. He could go on and name himself while he was at it too and make the videos that were circulating the internet just a little better.

At first, he just did a few backflips and jumps and then he swung on the web for a moment before landing in front of his phone. Then he heard someone scream.

Peter jumped up and ran to the edge of the building. A woman’s purse had been snatched and the guy was getting away, but Peter jumped off the roof and swung into the scene and caught the guy, sticking him to the nearest wall. He returned the purse quickly and then swung away again back to the roof. He sat on the edge of a roof for a while until something else caught his attention which turned out to just be a kid screaming at his mother because she wouldn’t buy him an ice cream and she was refusing.

Peter decided to save his eardrums and go elsewhere for a while which was how he managed to spot the car flying down a street it was going so fast which he just knew was going to be trouble.

Peter didn’t know how he pulled it off. He didn’t know how he managed to have such good timing, but somehow he did. One moment he had just been trying to figure out how to stop the car or get people away from the danger and the next he had seen the bus and known that it would be disaster for the car driver, the people on the bus, and the people walking around who didn’t even seem to notice what was happening except for a few here or there who were yelling or staring in open shock.

He was swinging towards the car, but he wasn’t fast enough to stop the car, not until it was almost at the bus, which was how he ended up throwing himself between them, falling right where the collision was about to take place to stop the car, absorbing the hit in a way that didn’t impact the bus but also stopped the car from causing damage to the driver and passenger who looked shaken. The car actually came off the ground at the back and Peter had to set it down gently, glad that he had the strength to actually hold it for a moment.

As everything settled down for him, Peter could see that people had their phones out and that he was their main interest. Peter didn’t waste a moment in jumping onto the hood of the car and swinging away as people looked on.

Peter was a little shaken, if he were going to be honest, mostly because he had almost narrowly missed stopping that car and injuring not just himself but other people in the vicinity, in the car, and inside the bus.It had been a close one, but he had stopped all catastrophe and he had to give himself props for that.

He landed on a rooftop and breathed a sigh of relief for everything that had gone right and then he flopped onto his back because he couldn’t believe his luck. Had any one thing gone wrong or his timing been off anything could have happened, Peter knew that, and yet he felt so proud for what he had done.

He stayed on the empty roof for a while until his phone notified him of a text from Ned and even then he ignored it for a while because Ned was probably only asking something about homework or Star Wars and Peter really didn’t care to answer. Later, as the afternoon got tinged orange and red as the sun started to go down he finally checked.

Ned: Peter, you’re never going to believe it. Go on youtube. Spiderman just stopped a car from crashing into a bus and it’s all over the internet.

Ned: Omg! Buzzfeed wrote an article about it. This is so cool, Peter! Tell me you saw it.

There was also one from May.

May: Kiddo, pick up a sandwich or something from Delmars. I’m going to work late tonight. Be safe.

He didn’t respond to either immediately just because he wanted to just lay there for a while, but eventually he got up and sent May a thumbs up emoji just because she hated when he didn’t give her any kind of answer. It had become increasingly obvious that May felt like they were going to start struggling for money. Uncle Ben didn’t have any kind of life insurance and even though all funeral costs had been covered by Mr. Stark, even if Peter still didn’t necessarily understand why, it didn’t change that Uncle Ben had had the higher paying job and that his income was gone. They lived in New York. It was Queens, but it was still New York City and Peter knew things were expensive.

May was probably also worried because she’d been out from work without pay for a good while after Ben died. Her bosses had understood her need for time off, but not enough to pay her for the entirety of it. It left Peter feeling a little bit like he should be trying to get himself a part time job to help her out and yet it would leave even less time for other pursuits like Spider-Man so he hoped it wouldn’t come to that. May probably wouldn’t go for it anyway even if he didn’t have Spider-Man.

He patrolled for a little bit longer before grabbing a sandwich as suggested by May and heading home and checking out the links that Ned had sent him to YouTube videos that had thousands upon thousands of views and were all of him from different angles stopping the accident. It was crazy and Peter couldn’t believe it. The comments section was a whole thing altogether and Peter only read a few comments before he gave up and moved on to the next video and then the next.

Back in the old days any time that Tony had to fly anywhere, he would make it a point to have strippers and plenty to drink aboard the jet. Times had changed and instead, Tony spent the rather short flight to MIT looking over Peter things. His grades, his club involvements at school and anything else that might have come up. This was how Spider-Man got on his radar because it was all that anyone from Peter’s school could apparently talk about on social media so naturally Friday picked up on it. Queens has its own superhero and from what Tony could make out, it wasn’t more than just a kid going by how thin and how short the new hero was unless it was a woman but Tony doubted that. There were YouTube videos up that showed him in action and Tony was impressed especially since they all seemed mostly candid and unedited.

The latest one had him stopping a car crashing into a bus and Tony could just tell that whoever was under the mask had to be special which meant they needed to be watched.

“Hey, Friday,” Tony said, “can we figure out who this masked hero is. Could be a good addition to The Avengers.”

“Should I send the info to Captain Rogers?”

“No, I’ll deal with this personally. I just hope that whoever it is they aren’t bringing trouble into Queens. It’s the last thing Peter and May need.”

“Well, it looks like Spider-Man has decreased some of the crime in Queens since his appearance,” Friday said.

“Yeah, but it will attract trouble too and I don’t want either of them near it.”

Tony spent most of the trip trying not to think about Steve which was why he was trying to keep himself busy. It was hard, though, after every surprising aspect of that morning. The last year had taught him that he and Steve got along well once they stopped fighting and that Tony liked the company that Steve offered but he had never imagined that it would ever be more than a friendship. The friendship had often seemed like it was already enough that it almost felt like a dream to get to have more than that. Tony wanted to just fast forward the next few days until he could see him again.

Tony made himself focus on the new hero. The more he looked at the videos on YouTube, the more that Tony thought about all the ways that the young hero could be improved on starting with the homemade suit. Tony was also particularly interested in the webs he seemed to be capable of shooting out out of his wrist. They reminded him -- Peter had been asking about spider webbing.

Could Peter know the masked hero? Or had he come across the webbing somehow and gotten curious? Tony didn’t like it. He wanted Peter as far away from the masked Spider-Man as possible and the easiest way to do it was to get Spider-Man out of Queens. Maybe an invitation to join The Avengers would do that.

Tony wrote down his ideas on a possible suit for Spider-Man including the use of the red and blue he seemed to prefer. From just what he going see from the videos the hero was acrobatic, could stick to walls somehow even through his clothes, and he was super strong. It was the webbing that he needed to figure out. Was Spider-Man a mutant of some kind or an experiment gone wrong? Either way, the webbing couldn’t be organic. It couldn’t come from him because there was no way that anything inside him could create it unless Tony was wrong because weird things happened all the time. A couple more watches of a few of the more trick related videos gave away the device that Spider-Man had on his wrists and Tony knew he could improve upon that too. Spider-Man needed a whole new upgrade.

“Save my notes, Fri,” Tony said, “it will be something to work on when I’m back home.”

For the last leg of the trip, Tony checked his email. The first one to stand out was from Pepper and recently arrived.

Tony,

I am so sorry but I won’t make MIT. You’ll have to present without me.

Pepper

Tony really should have expected that. He shrugged it off and moved on to the rest of his email. He erased a bunch until one from Maria Hill stood out to him.

Stark,

We have been following a few things closely as concerning Bruce Banner. Recently there have been some proving questions about his whereabouts. We believe they come from the new Secretary of State, Thaddeus Ross, as they have some history you are aware of.

As I have touched on in the past, the political landscape right now does not fare well for us. Ever since Shield fell there have been more and more voices critiquing the methods that The Avengers have taken. The events of Sokovia did not help and it’s likely that the inhuman problem is also to blame. Too many untrustworthy people with new and unexpected powers are worrisome even to us even if we have someone working on the issue. I have been advised that the UN is also working on something.

We’re going to need you on this, Stark. Whatever is coming, you’re best equipped to deal with it.

-Hill

Tony was used to getting emails from Maria Hill. It was easier to hear things from her when it came to the less exciting aspects of The Avengers especially when it came in email form. It was especially nice because Hill never tried to shy away from saying what she needed to say. Tony had actually forgotten all about the inhuman stuff that had been going on with the contamination of fish oil pills. Hill and Fury had been insistent that someone was dealing with it so Tony was leaving it all alone. It made him wonder if Spider-Man was one of those inhumans. It would make some sense if he was.

The next email that caught his eye was one from Peter. Finally.

Hey, Mr. Stark,

I know I haven’t written much lately but you know why I haven’t. It’s been a lot to really get used to because I keep thinking he’ll just be there at the breakfast table and then he’s not and his favorite mug is just sitting in the cupboard like he left it. I guess I’m still getting used to it.

Thank you so much for paying for everything. You didn’t have to! But I’m so thankful you did. It was one less thing to worry about. And thank you for the letter. It meant everything to hear those words and it’s made a big difference to me. Thank you so so much.

Peter

Tony decided he would answer it later, so he moved on and found a welcome email from MIT and Tony ignored it in favor of looking out the window for a while and trying not to think about Steve who had probably already arrived in Lagos with the team. Only Vision and Rhodey were staying behind at the compound even though Tony would have preferred that they went as well. Tony just hoped that it all went well.

Chapter Twenty Nine

#Peter and Tony fic #iron dad fic #mcu fic #iron dad #iron dad and spider son

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taotrooper · 7 years

Text

Everlasting Flower: The Library (1)

Hey there, remember this fic universe? Yes, it’s back! I still need to write the rest of this story, I’m still sorting my ideas, and school’s going to kick my ass soon. However, here’s the beginning of something everyone has been dying to read, and it’s taken me ages between the writer’s block and my own indecision. I first wanted to tell the story of the setting first, but screw it. I hope you guys love it! I’ll try to have the second part done as soon as I can. There was too much going on, which is why I stopped it here.

Everlasting Flower (masterpost, tag, AO3 series) is an AU in which Ouryuu allowed Zeno’s blood to give Kaya a kind of immortality.

Chapter summary: In which Yoon’s day goes splendidly until Zeno introduces his wife in the vaguest, most confusing manner. It happens between the Lush Forest arc and the Sei arc.

Also of interest for @akayona-prompts‘ prompt, “How about Kaya meeting the Dark Dragon and the Happy Hungry Bunch?”

"Hey! Zeno brought an elderly lady!"

It was not an old lady at all. His hands were on the shoulders of a girl that looked just a little older than Yoon. Probably around Yona's age, or Shin-ah and Hak's at most. She didn't seem fazed by Zeno's stupid joke. At least the rest of the group looked as mortified as Yoon felt.

"Zeno-kun, that's only cute when it's the other way around," Jae-ha said, and then he turned to the girl. "I apologize on his behalf."

"Oh, that's okay!" she beamed. "I thought it was funny, actually!"

Yoon had seen so many sightings in their journey, but this was the most beautiful place he had ever seen in his whole life.

His feet moved on their own towards the nearest shelf. With reverence, his fingers reached to the tomes and stroke their rugged spine. The old smell of paper and parchment and ink rushed in and brought him to the first time Ik-soo gave him a book. He put the memory aside and squinted his eyes to read the faded titles. It seemed to be the foreign literature section since he was unfamiliar with the characters. That only made him more excited. What other wonders awaited him in the other identical shelves that filled the large hall?

He blinked out of his blissful trance to see the others. Zeno was containing his laughter, but everyone was in awe as well. Even Hak, who didn't seem to be a book lover, and Shin-ah, who was barely learning how to read, seemed impressed. Jae-ha looked almost as delighted as Yoon. Kija eventually called them to a wall with a cry that made a woman behind a desk make a "shhhh" noise with pursed lips.

"S-sorry," he apologized with a bow. "Everyone, look at this mural!"

The seven gathered next to Kija and examined it. The painting depicted five men. Their faces weren't in detail, the style being minimalist and focused more on the clothing and hair. The central figure, with the fanciest outfit, had an abundant mass of crimson locks that swayed in the air. It was much longer, but it was just like Yona's in an obvious glaring way.

No one said who they were aloud, but the subject was obvious from their hair colors. Zeno's golden mane was also spot on, and his art double was shorter than his companions.

"Were they...?" Kija began, one of his sharp nails pointing at a muscular white-haired man with an equally clawed white hand.

"Yup, they looked like that," Zeno nodded with a nostalgic smile. "I described them to the artist."

"It's a beautiful piece of art," Jae-ha said.

"Zeno didn't commission it. A librarian from long ago had the idea and I just went along with it. Of course, other representations of the Dragon Warriors are more popular, but this one's the best to me. Liberties are to be expected though, after the centuries."

Yoon glanced at Yona. Her expression was hard to figure out. She never talked about how she felt in regard to being a dragon god king's reincarnation. And it was her late father, that neglectful king Il whom Yoon disliked so much in the past, who had told her the myth of Hiryuu. How did that mural make her feel? Before he could think about it more or even ask her, she looked away and smiled at Zeno.

"Should we continue, Zeno?" she whispered. That's right, they had come to Senkyo on his request! The oldest of them had been the one to guide them into the building. And even though Yoon was itching to check out the rest of the bookshelves, they were still carrying their travel bags on their backs.

"Yup, sure!"

He took them to the series of desks where the shush had come from. A sturdy and stern lady in her fifties looked at them, squinting. She was probably near-sighted, Yoon assumed.

"Hello!" Zeno greeted with a huge smile, not caring about the silence he was breaking. He took out his medallion from his robes' pocket to show it around. "Long time no see, Miss."

The woman's eyes widened but she didn't lose her cool demeanor. "Lord Ouryuu, welcome," she whispered with a tinge of fervor. "How fortunate to see you again in my lifetime."

"Oh, come on, you're still pretty young," he chuckled, "and it's probably only been like seventeen years at most?" That amount seemed oddly specific to Yoon, but he bit his tongue and tried not to linger on theories of international wars or newborn princesses.

"It's fortunate regardless. Speaking of fortune, Lady Hummingbird has been expecting you."

"Ah, is that so?" Zeno's eyes lit up. "Good, I should meet with her. When did she arrive?"

"A week ago."

"Oh, okay. Where is she right now?"

"Hold on a second. Mai-chan, is the Lady in the back room?"

"No, ma'am," said a girl carrying books to a shelf, "I saw her going out. She said she was going to the marketplace for the afternoon."

"Thanks!" Zeno bowed to the women. "Everyone, let me take you to our room!"

"Our room?" Shin-ah cocked his head.

"Wait, we're staying here?" Yoon almost jumped with excitement. "Are the librarians fine with it?"

"Yup, yup." Zeno shook a hand. "This belongs to the city now, but my wife was the owner of this place at some point. The attic is still free for us to use."

"Wait, really?"

"Remember what I told you guys? Ouryuu doesn't have a village... but he has a headquarters on top of a library!"

Maybe it was the desire to read talking but, for the first time ever, Yoon thought Zeno was really cool.

They ascended the stairs carefully, with Zeno chatting in the front and answering to Kija and Yona's questions. Yoon had stopped paying attention, his mind still in the main hall with its many bookshelves. They finally reached a door that was precariously dancing on its hinges, not too hard to open and not even locked.

"Ah, loose again," Zeno shrugged and made a gesture towards the passageway. "Anyway, make yourselves comfy!"

Yoon's first impression was that it was unusually clean. Not a single cobweb. His finger swept through the surface of one of the many wooden crates and chests that laid anywhere, in search of dust. Just some specks, but not the coat of filth he would have expected in Zeno's territory. Perhaps the librarians maintained the tidiness for him, or it had been that Hummingbird person. His eyes inspected the back of the attic: only one bed, an old desk cluttered with writing utensils and trinkets and a flowerpot, and even more bookshelves. Light shined through a window between the desk and the bed.

"If we move these crates," Yoon said, "we could camp in the middle of the room tonight."

"Allow me," Kija smiled and set himself to work. Hak, Jae-ha, and Shin-ah joined him after setting their bags on the floor. Yona insisted to drag the smaller chests towards a wall. Zeno just looked around as he sat on the edge of the double bed, unhelpful. Normally Yoon would have disapproved, but... he figured being there shouldn't be easy for his friend. With curiosity, the boy stopped the supervision and approached the bookshelves. He couldn't silence the gasp in his throat.

Most of the books were medicine-related textbooks. He even saw the book Ik-soo had found among them. His urge to read was rising again, more powerful than ever. Forget the chests, this was the real treasure of the room! Before he knew it, one treatise on wound care was in his hands. That wasn't very polite; they probably were spares from the library's collection.

"Zeno... may I...?"

"Hmmm?" Zeno tilted his head and grinned when he saw the book. "Oh, sure! I mean, none of those are Zeno's but I'm sure my wife wouldn't mind at all! Knock yourself out!"

A weight like a stone sank inside Yoon's stomach. He would read that book senselessly whenever they had some free time regardless, but there was a tinge of guilt for reminding Zeno once again of his spouse, for remembering the reason they were there. He nodded with respect.

Once they had set their belongings, Zeno got up with a hop.

"Alright! I have to go to the marketplace. You guys don't have to come with Zeno if you don't want to. Feel free to rest here! We'll be back soon!"

Wait, Yoon pondered. What about his wife?

"Oh right, Lady Hummingbird?" Jae-ha asked. Zeno's smile got wider. Yoon had forgotten about the message from the librarian. Of course a living friend would get priority over a tomb.

The boy looked at the book in his hands. Then he stared at his travel satchel. Argh, why did he have to be so responsible?

"Tsk, guess I'm going to the marketplace," Yoon sighed. "We're short on money so we should sell some of my medicines while Zeno talks to this person." He noticed that his friends were raising eyebrows. "I know, I know, it's a pain but I can read these books later! This has more priority."

"Aww, Yoon!" Yona beamed at him. "We'll help you out."

"He's going to force us anyway," Hak shrugged.

"You got that right," Yoon said as he crossed his arms. "And you're helping too, Zeno. Don't think you're getting free from it just because you're respected in this town."

"Fiiiiiiiine~. I know just the best customer," Zeno smirked.

As they galloped downstairs and into the street again, leaving the bookshelves and Hiryuu's mural behind, Yoon thought once more about Zeno's insistence to go to this city.

The flames of the campfire flickered and danced in front of Zeno's eyes, as warm as the hearts of the kids, as warm as the stew in their bowls. Their playful voices and the sounds of crickets made music with the burning wood. Such a peaceful supper, such a peaceful night. He was as content as his own stomach. He —and Kaya— had called plenty of people their family over the millennia, but these were the ones he had been waiting for. It had been worth it, absolutely, especially now that they knew who he was.

"So where should we go now?" the Lad asked, always responsible.

"I don't know," the Miss said after slurping the remaining broth in her bowl. "Now that Shin-ah recovered, it's alright if we take the road again, right?"

Seiryuu shrank further inside his fur, avoiding their stares. His hand toyed with the squirrel's little ears with a nervous tremor. That ghost of his ancestor had been a naughty boy, but thankfully none of them held a grudge against him for possessing their little brother.

Zeno looked above. It had only been a new moon recently, so he could only see a thin silver slice of the growing moon above them. He made a quick, unsure calculation, as he usually did when he and his beloved traveled on separate ways: He last kissed Kaya after the others left Awa, right? There was a full moon back then. Yes, it should be time now, or perhaps one month short? Whatever, just as well.

"Hey..." he said, still staring at the moon, nocturnal breeze caressing his hair. "If we don't have a destination, could we... stop by Senkyo next? There's something important Zeno needs to do."

"Senkyo?" he heard several voices murmuring in confusion. He looked down, back to them.

"Where is that?" asked Hakuryuu.

"Northeastern Water Tribe, I think," the Mister said. "Near the Wind Tribe outskirts."

"Ah!" the Lad gasped, stars in his eyes. "Isn't that the city with the library?! Ik-soo has told me about it!"

"Library?" the Miss blinked.

"Yes! The place is famous because it has the only public library in Kouka! Anyone can go there and read their books! I've always dreamed about going there!"

"I've heard of it too," Ryokuryuu grinned, "and I wouldn't mind taking a look either."

"But what business can Zeno have there?" The boy stroke his chin. "Unless... are we going to research about the Sword and the Shield from the Prophecy? Is there a clue there? Is it time?"

"What?" Zeno laughed. "No, there's no such books or parchments for that! At least that I know of!"

The Lad and Hakuryuu seemed disappointed.

"Then why are we going there?" the Miss asked. "It must be important if Zeno asks us to go."

"Well, kinda," he nodded. He thought about Kaya and her sweet face, as bright as the firelight in the night. He couldn't help but soften his grin into a tender, nostalgic smile. "Hmmm, how should I explain it?" Saying that he must get his woman to drink a few drops of his blood every four moons at most would be too weird. He took a cuter, more sensible approach. Gave it the relaxing effect the city had on Kaya whenever they took a break from their trips. "Senkyo... is my wife's resting place, see? I want you guys to meet her. I know she'll be so happy to have all of us visiting!"

The silence would have been deafening if not for the crickets.

"Oh," the princess finally broke it with a sad smile of her own. "Yes, of course. We'd love to meet her, Zeno."

"It'll be an honor," Hakuryuu agreed.

Was it his impression or was there pity in their eyes? How come? Had they realized he had been apart for a few months from his wife and they felt bad for him? That was really sweet of them. Three or four months were nothing to him and Kaya, but a lot happened to normal mortal people in such a short time so it could be considered an eternity to them.

Oh well, they were going to stop being sad once they met her!

Zeno walked around the maze of market stands and dodged every person in the crowd after some quick scrutiny. This commercial area wasn't as massive as the Wanderer's Market they had visited before, and it had much less foreigners, but there were still plenty of people transiting. As the town was in the limits between two tribes, their trade system had prospered for reasons beyond the helpful allure of its famous library.

He finally caught sight of a familiar hairstyle from the distance. It was, no doubt about it, her short dark brown hair bouncing as she walked. He also recognized the casual kimono she was wearing.

"Kayaaaaaa!"

She turned and indeed, it was her. She quickly made her way with a pleased expression that was as cute as always. He met her with a hug and a squeeze. The scent of earth, herbs, and jasmine on her were so comforting. They were home.

"Sorry I kept you waiting."

"It's alright," she smiled, "the situation lately has made traveling a bit hard. And I'm sure you guys were pretty busy!"

"You have no idea," Zeno smirked as he let go.

"Um, did you come alone?" She looked around them.

"Nah, I brought everyone. They set up a stand and they're selling medicine. Need some supplies? Because we reaaaally need the money!"

"I was gonna shop before leaving town but I can take a look. I don't want this old man of a husband and his happy hungry bunch to starve, after all."

Zeno raised his brow. He was almost certain he hadn't mentioned their little bandit group on the letter he left for her, so that meant she had heard about it and figured it was them. As expected from Kaya!

"It's a good name for a group, right?" he beamed. "Luckily we're much less hungry now but we'll appreciate your patronage."

"Then let's go!" she said as she took his arm and pulled him forward.

"Wait, wait, wrong direction," he managed to say. She stopped dragging him and let him lead the way. "Old ladies these days are so pushy."

"Hahaha, I was pulling, not pushing. These robes," she touched the sleeve of the arm she was clinging to. "Are the orange and off-white ones dirty or...?"

"Or."

"Oh, Zeno!" she sighed. "They had lasted so long and they were so pretty!"

"All clothes that can be worn will return to the Heavens."

"Did you tell them before...?"

She stopped walking. Zeno could feel the sweat on his forehead.

"Zeno, no!"

"I didn't know how to..." He scratched his cheek. "This seemed easier... Waiting until I had a chance to protect them... Being warriors and all."

She let go of his arm. The look in Kaya's eyes was the usual 'I can't leave you unsupervised' disappointed glance of a wife she had mastered skillfully. After shaking her head, her eyes were closed, the pout was gone, and a cheery big smile replaced it. Uh oh.

"No hugs for the rest of the day, no dessert tonight, and you're apologizing to them for making them cry." Zeno bit his lower lip and grazed skin with his dragon fangs. There she was, hitting right were it hurt. She softened her grin. "Should we meet them now?"

It had been a good day for Yoon. Senkyo's open marketplace was quite decent for business and Hak's charisma had been bringing clients to his blanket on the ground. The young ladies brought by him were less aggressive than in other markets, too. He was certain he would amass enough money for rice, salt, and the currently coveted fabric —for a new tent and Zeno's new need for spare outfits, which was becoming more than a pain. At this rhythm of self-destruction, he would have to get him a full store-made set of robes in the next city. That if they could afford it.

Speaking of the devil, or more like the dragon, Yoon heard the deceivingly youthful voice of Zeno, which made him turn.

"Hey! Zeno brought an elderly lady!"

"Zeno-kun, that's only cute when it's the other way around," Jae-ha said, and then he turned to the girl. "I apologize on his behalf."

"Oh, that's okay!" she beamed. "I thought it was funny, actually!"

"Anyway, here she is!" Zeno announced. "She's the special meeting!"

"Huh?" Yona blinked. "Ah, then is she Lady Hummingbird?"

"Ahahaha, you heard the nickname the librarians gave me? They like to make everything poetic." The girl bowed. "My name is Kaya, and it's very nice to finally meet Zeno's family!"

Everyone introduced themselves. She made a good first impression. Even Shin-ah, despite his introverted ways, seemed more at ease with her than, for instance, with Lili or any of their new friends during their journey. She just exuded a comforting, sweet aura very similar to Zeno's.

"I'm also here to buy some stuff." She knelt next to Yoon. "Zeno told me you make medicine. May I see?"

Yoon nodded and showed her his wares with seasoned experience. She picked the anti-inflammatory, the fever medicine, the cough drops, and the pain killers... and she asked at least three units of each. He just stared in horror.

"I-Is that for someone in particular?"

"What? No, no, no. Hasn't Zeno told you? I'm a healer."

Zeno hadn't told them anything at all about her, but Yoon wasn't going to tell her that. In fact, their mutual friend had wandered off to look for real elderly ladies to bring as customers.

"Oh! Thank goodness, I was getting worried about a person needing all of these at once."

"Haha, it's okay!" She took out her purse. "I usually make my own medicines with herbs from the road like you, but I'm going to Sensui next and I need all the extra supplies I can get." Sensui, huh? Yoon thought. She's probably going to treat the nadai victims, then. Yona seemed to read his mind.

"Ah, is it for nadai?"

"Yeah, they're looking for doctors for the nadai clinics. In fact, if you guys also have some spare ingredients for sale I'd love to buy them as well."

"I'll see what I can do," Yoon said. "I can't really give you everything I have because these rare beasts could get sick or wounded any time now."

"Ah, then it's okay," Kaya said. She opened one of the little bags to examine the goods. "Just the medicines are fine. By the way, is this recipe from Doku's handbook?" Yoon's eyes widened and his cheeks blushed. How could she tell the author of his treasured book just like that? "It is? I can tell by the gingery smell. It's a good formula."

"Yeah, so far it hasn't let me down."

"Want a secret? Add valerian to the mix. Just half a petal is enough. It doesn't cancel the effects and it just enhances the sedating agents."

"T-That's actually a great idea!" Yoon agreed.

"It makes the patient drowsier though, so you might want to warn them to take it better at night or when they're not going to do anything important."

"Thanks for the tip! That makes sense." It felt great to talk to an intellectual peer around his age with similar interests. More customers arrived, so Yoon sadly couldn't talk to Kaya until they were gone. Ao had positioned on Kaya's shoulder and she giggled as she pet the squirrel.

"Were you guys traveling around the Fire Tribe by any chance? I went to this little village full of soldiers to help with the plague, and they kept talking about a cute, talented boy healer called Yoon."

"That was definitely our Yoon," Yona clapped.

"Well, I'd say I'm more handsome than cute," he dismissed the compliment, cheeks and ears on fire.

"Or both," Kaya giggled some more. He thought those two girls together were about to kill him, but nothing prepared him to Jae-ha pulling him aside to talk in private, men only according to him. Kija hovered around but didn't form part of the two-person circle.

"Yoon-kun, you're red. Is it me or Kaya-chan is flirting with you?"

"...What?" Yoon just stared at him in disbelief. "Can't people just call me handsome without you assuming weird things?"

"She was paying a lot of attention to you ever since Zeno brought her."

"Because they're both healers, Jae-ha!" Kija intervened. "I'm with Yoon here. She's just being really friendly and having fun since they have a lot in common."

"You two know nothing about women. In any case just let me tease the boy in peace, Kija-kun, and let him do whatever he wants."

So he admits he's teasing, Yoon sighed and turned back to the stand. Of course Kaya was cute and she seemed very compassionate and smart and capable. She was much better than any good-for-nothing man who wanted to marry him because he cooked well. But it was a silly notion... they were both traveling and they had their priorities sorted out. As he sat down, she greeted him by waving her hand, and then she went back to talking to Shin-ah and Yona. He had no time to have a crush on anyone! Not even on someone this lovely!

Jae-ha let him work for a few minutes before making his relentless attempts more public.

"Kaya-chan," he said as he put his arm around her shoulders. "I'm just curious here. What would you say is your type of man?"

Everyone in the stand, even Yona and Shin-ah who hadn't heard the conversation, just glared at him. Kaya restrained a chuckle.

"Is this flirting? Because Zeno warned me this might happen with you."

The man immediately removed his arm and shook his head with a nervous smile, after muttering a couple of nos.

"Well," she poked at her own chin with her index finger," it's not like it matters much because I'm taken, but okay. Someone who's kind and sweet. I prefer soft faces on the cute side rather than manly handsome ones. Smaller built, not overly muscular or tall." Damn, that seemed targeted at Jae-ha's type. She continued. "Oh, and I prefer men who are older than me! A bit of an age difference if possible." And that... seemed targeted at Yoon, a fifteen year-old boy.

A specific image of a middle-aged short man with a belly and already balding, came to Yoon's mind. She certainly had strange tastes.

"I-Is that so?" Jae-ha kept grinning despite everything, his frown tense.

"Yeah! So you guys are all really pretty but too young for me."

"No one has asked you that," Kija sighed.

"So like my father," Yona murmured, deep in thought.

"Nah, I don't think so..." Kaya shrugged, perhaps too certain. Did she know it was King Il? What had Zeno, or perhaps even that idiot second Kan son, told her about them? Oh, that town and the knowledgeable librarians and Zeno suddenly having a more tangible life was making Yoon a bit too paranoid.

"Zeno and the Mister are back with someone in need!" Indeed, they were escorting an old man with arthritis who could barely walk. Yoon attended to him, glad to have a distraction. Kaya turned to Zeno, who crouched between her and Yona as if he had been working hard at all.

However, that man was the last client they got as the marketplace was about to close. The sun still hadn't begun to go down but guards were asking all stands to wrap it up.

"Ah, I guess we came too late," Yoon lamented. He packed his things and counted the coins. He found they had earned a good amount in the end, enough for their shopping list and any unexpected expenses in the near future. All and all, he was more than content. Books! Conversations! Money! An excellent day!

An excellent day that would soon turn for the bizarre.

"Let's go back! There's still daylight so I might be able to read something!" Yoon turned on his heels and started walking forward in big strides, with everyone following behind him.

"The Lad is looking forward to it!" Zeno laughed.

"Where are you going now, Kaya?" Yona asked. "We're off to the library."

"I'm going there as well!"

"You must frequent it a lot if the librarians gave you a nickname," Jae-ha said.

"I wouldn't say that. I don't go there a lot but it's the place where I come to rest every now and then, and a bit of a storage room. Sort of like my headquarters?"

'Headquarters'...? That word again. 'Rest' also rang a bell. Yoon stopped and looked back at Kaya. He looked down, and everyone else did with him.

Kaya was holding Zeno's hand.

Wait a second.

"You said you were taken, right?" Jae-ha said.

"Cute faces," said Yona.

"...Kind and sweet," Shin-ah said.

"Not too tall and not too muscular," Kija said.

"Older men and an age difference...!" Yoon said. The mental image of the balding man broke into pieces, to be substituted by a cute eternal seventeen year-old. No way. That's two thousand years old! That's way too much of an age difference, don't you think?!

Besides, wasn't his wife...? No, they were mistaken and she...? No way.

Kaya stared back in surprise and then she glanced at Zeno. She seemed more heartbroken than angry.

"Zeno, could it be? You didn't...?"

"I did!" he cried immediately. "I'm sure I did! That's why I brought them!"

"I thought they knew but..." Her hand released his and she met his eyes. "Then, how much did you tell them about me?"

He sighed. "I was waiting for them to ask me things about you, but they... never did."

"Oh no, don't drag us into your lovers' quarrel," Hak raised his hands, deadpan.

"I did think they were being a bit unexcited and distant..." Kaya pouted, looking like she wanted to cry. "I wondered if I had said something wrong or they were too weirded out."

Zeno made an attempt to pacify her worries with the palms of his hands in a 'stop' sign.

"Zeno..." Kija started, frowning. "If we're here to visit your... I mean, does that mean Kaya is...?"

"Well, yeah? I said she was the special meeting we're here for? Who did you think she was?"

"L-Let's start again, and you're grounded for three more days now." Kaya sighed, her hands laced behind her back. "Hello, everyone. It's a pleasure to finally meet you. My name's Kaya and I'm Zeno's wife."

The confirmation of something they had already figured out didn't stop them all from gaping at her, flabbergasted, their pupils small from the revelation.

#akatsuki no yona #ouryuu zeno #kaya #happy hungry bunch #everlasting flower #$fanfic

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were-cheetah-stiles · 7 years

Text

The Recruit (Chapter 4) - Mitch Rapp

Author: @were-cheetah-stiles

Title: “Day 12″

Characters: Mitch Rapp, Stan Hurley, Rob Russells & Reader

Warnings: Slow burn, some more touchin’, cursing.. there will pretty much always be cursing.. I curse a lot, so now you as the reader will to. I’m. Not. Sorry.

Author’s Note: Another favorite chapter, this one was just fun to write..

Summary: Stan has the recruits create an undercover identity so that they can infiltrate a college reunion and convince the guests that they were also members of the graduating class. Mitch and Y/N have a moment.

Additional Note: This is very, very, very loosely based on like an idea from an episode of Quantico. Loosely being the operative word.

Additional Additional Note: In the original story, this is not Mitch x Reader, it’s Mitch x OFC, and her name is Willa, so when Rob says “Will Petersen blah blah blah” that’s where that came from.

Chapter Three - Chapter Four - Chapter Five

Stan stood in the front of the charter bus, his hands gripping the seats next to him, as he spoke to the recruits. "We're going to be pulling up to the hotel ballroom in a few minutes. Just a reminder that going undercover is not going to be easy, and we will be stopping the people we see talking to you before they leave to see if they believed your cover story or not. Remember, College of William and Mary is a medium sized university. The graduating class of 2012 was about 2,100 people, so while it's enough for you to get by, these people will probably be able to tell when they don't recognize someone. If you don't know your new identity backwards and forwards, tonight, you get punished back at the Barn. If you don't know your undercover identity in the field, you get killed, so take this seriously. It’s not just a party with free booze. You’re all working."

"Are we allowed to use each other to play off of our identities? No one ever goes to these things alone." Rob asked, making a good point.

"That's true, Russells. Most people would not show up to a five year college reunion alone, but I don't advise this unless you know enough about someone else's identity to not expose them as a fraud, and in doing that, yourself as a fraud."

Mitch watched from behind, through the crack in between the seats as Rob turned to you and stuck out his hand for you to shake. "Nice to meet you, I'm Will, Will Peterson and I'm from New York City, and I speak three languages." Rob grinned and Mitch smirked, and snickered to himself.

You stared at Rob with a deadpan expression, and left his hand still floating in the air. "......you stole my identity and made me a man?" Rob nodded, vigorously grinning. You rolled your eyes, and huffed, finally flimsily shaking Rob's hand. "Fine. I'm Maggie Sheffield and I'm from Portland, Oregon. I swear, I think I once sat next to you at a football game at Zable Stadium."

"This is going to be awesome." Rob was overly excited.

You walked in the hotel ballroom, dimly lit and full of people, and made a straight shot towards the bar. You immediately ordered a microbrew craft beer, then sat down on a bar stool in the middle. You were wearing black suede thigh-high boots with a tall, chunky heel, with a short cream colored dress that hugged your body and showed off your toned figure. You sipped the bitter, hoppy beverage and sucked at your teeth. You hated hoppy beer, but you were crafting a character, so you drank it anyway.

You glanced at the end of the bar and saw three guys huddled around eyeing you. You pressed your tongue between your lips, and leaned over the wooden bar. "Hey, can I ask you a quick favor?" You got the bartender's attention. He turned back around and grinned, happy that the beautiful girl had stuck around instead of leaving the bar to mingle with the other alumni. "Can you wait until those guys aren't paying attention and pour out half of my beer, then put it back here?"

The bartender glanced over at the guys and looked back at you. "You trying to get them to buy you a drink?"

"Kind of..."

"You know it's an open bar, right?"

"I know." You smirked.

The bartender stepped back and eyed you up and down. "Yea, I'd buy you a drink at a free bar because of that dress too.."

You playfully bit the tip of your thumb and smiled. You knew how to play up the flirtation and get a guy to notice you. The bartender sneakily did as you asked and you took another sip of your now almost empty drink, making eye contact with the one in the middle, as you licked your lips and placed your glass back down. You checked the delicate rose gold watch on your wrist, and fiddled with your hair, twirling it around your finger.

"Hey, can we get you another drink?" You smirked as you heard the voice of one of the men who had walked over with his buddies from the other end of the bar. You had succeeded in seducing them over to you.

You turned and gave your most devastating smile to the three men hovering next to your seat. "I would love that. Thank you. I can't seem to get his attention."

"I don't know how that's possible with you in those boots but I guess he didn't see you walk in like we did... YO, bartender! We'll have another round and some shots of tequila." One of the guys yelled obnoxiously. You faked flattery and a giggle, and looked for the bartender. You caught Mitch leaning against the bar directly behind you, waiting for the bartender to take care of his other customers before getting to him, and glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. "I'm Brian, and this is Zach and Andy." The guy in the middle made introductions, snapping your focus back to your marks, as you flirtatiously shook their hands. You all did your shots and continued talking.

"Wait, no way, what semester did you take European Lit. with Mr. Moore?" You asked Brian, leaning in to let him get an eyeful of your cleavage.

"Spring semester, Sophomore year. I know you were in that class. I remember you." Brian told you, buying the story that you had pawned off on them.

"Oh my god, I absolutely hated that class... what was that one book we read that was just awful? Ugh, I can't remember the name... it had that guy.."

"Beowulf!" Brian shouted drunkenly.

You paused for a half second, after being surprised that this idiot in front of you picked such a good classic book. You heard Mitch snicker behind you. "That was it! God, that was such a stupid book... Grendel was not even that scary.." You laughed and took a sip of your drink, watching the three men talking in front of you about their careers and other things that you couldn't care any less about. You heard Mitch's voice behind you.

"Steven Greene, nice to meet you." Mitch said in his low, husky tone.

"My friend and I were saying that you had to be someone's date because we definitely would have remembered someone as gorgeous as you at graduation." The woman speaking to Mitch giggled drunkenly.

"Ah yea... I've, uh, lost some weight since graduation, but uh what are both of your names?" The women fawned over him, divulging their life stories. "Oh wow, I'm from Bethlehem." Mitch told one of them, trying to feign excitement. You rolled your eyes at their conversation.

"You're from Bethlehem, Pennsylvania?! NO WAY. I grew up in Allentown. That's amazing. What high school did you go to?" The woman named Stacey pushed her hand against Mitch's shoulder causing Mitch to lean back against you. You kicked him lightly under the bar and Mitch grinned.

"I went to Freedom High School, all my friends went to Liberty though." Mitch explained. He had clearly done his research and you were impressed at how confidently he spoke about a person that didn’t exist.

"That's so funny, I knew a couple of kids at Freedom. Did you know Matthew Yeisman or Sarah Keller?" The woman drunkenly babbled.

Mitch shook his head. "The names sound familiar but it was so long ago now..." He shrugged.

The more sober woman interjected and asked Mitch what he did professionally since college. "Well, my freshman roommate and I, we moved up to New York together after graduation and both work on Wall Street now at Morgan Stanley." Mitch answered confidently, and listened to the woman’s next question. "Oh, we lived in Yates Hall." Mitch answered the woman who was trying to find common ground through his freshman dorm hall.

You were forced to cease eavesdropping on Mitch's conversation when you heard your cover's name. "Maggie.. Maggie, I asked if you want to dance?" Brian asked you, putting his hand on your knee. You thought about the ways in which you could break his fingers.

You smiled. "I'm sorry, I'd love to. But I have to use the ladies room really quick. I'll be right back. Order me another drink!" You shouted as you walked away, with zero intention of returning.

You walked through the room looking for Rob and Julian. You wondered how they were making out. You saw Rob standing next to a group of four women who all looked annoyed and bored. You grabbed an hor d'oeuvres off a moving tray and popped it in your mouth, then grabbed a champagne off another tray and downed it, trying to get the taste of the IPA off your tongue.

You got close enough to hear what the girl in the blue jumpsuit was saying to Rob. "I seriously don't think you were in my women's studies class junior year. There were three guys in that class and I would've remembered one as gigantic as you." You watched as one of the other women whispered to her friend about Rob. "This guy clearly didn't go here, he is so clueless. I bet he’s just another one of those party crashers."

You decided to intervene on your friend's behalf. You ran up to Rob and grabbed him by the arm. "Will? Will Peterson? Oh my god, I haven't seen you since graduation! How are you?"

Rob looked stunned, and then snapped back into character. "Maggie! Maggie Sheffield, how are you?" You hugged the large man.

"I'm sorry, ladies. I didn't mean to interrupt. I just, I had to. I took a Women's Studies class with Will here in Senior year and for a guy, he was so insightful. He wrote a paper about misogyny that our professor literally read out loud to the class because it was so thoughtful." You were charming and disarming. The women all relaxed and began chatting to the two undercover trainees.

"Ugh, I always wished I was in Yates Hall. My freshman dorm was so boring." One of the women asked you a question that you knew that you couldn't answer without getting caught, but you were quick on your feet. "Oh my god, wait.. wait.." You giggled and grabbed the arm of one of the women in front of you. "I LOVE this song... Do you guys want to dance?"

You knew that the women wanted to get away from Rob. He hadn't blown his cover but he was terrible with women, and generally came off as too strong due to his eagerness and intimidating size. The women all agreed and began skipping and stumbling to the dance floor. "See you later Will." You grinned back at your friend. You danced with you new group of girlfriends to Bruno Mars' "Uptown Funk".

Mitch had finally shaken the two women from earlier and was talking to a group of guys about finance and the economy. He had fully convinced them all that he was in their business fraternity with them and was networking with one of them about trying to get the guy a job that didn't actually exist at Morgan Stanley with Mitch. Mitch caught a glimpse of you shaking and gyrating on the dance floor and suddenly found himself unable to look away. He watched as you dropped to the floor, your legs looking long and sleek in your tall boots, and your body looking tight as you shimmied your way back up. He was mesmerized by the way your face lit up with a genuine smile as you danced to a song that you clearly, actually liked. He was taken aback at how sexy you were and how hard he was finding it to focus on his conversation. Mitch was snapped back to reality when one of the men patted Mitch on the shoulder and invited him to their pick-up football game on campus the following afternoon. Mitch agreed and exchanged fake information, then excused himself to get another drink, glancing back at the dance floor but no longer seeing you.

Mitch leaned against the bar, one leg on the stool and one foot touching the floor, and waited for the bartender to make his rounds. A woman leaned next to him and smiled. Mitch nodded politely and went back to waiting for the bartender.

"Hi, I'm Alicia." She stuck out her hand to shake Mitch's. "So who are you here with? I don't remember you from the class photo."

"Steven Greene." Mitch shook her hand. "I came alone tonight, just wanted to meet up with some old buddies from the business fraternity and get a free drink, you know?" Mitch put on his most charming and unassuming smile.

The woman blushed but persisted. "You were in the business school? I just... I don't know, I don't mean to be forward, but you are so handsome, I really feel like I would've remembered you. What dorm did you live in Freshman year?" She asked.

"Yates. What about you?"

"I lived in Yates too. I... I am stunned, I really don't remember y-"

"Hey babe, I was looking for you everywhere." You cut the woman off mid-sentence, hooked your arm around Mitch's and pressed your body against his. Mitch felt a surge of energy rush through his body as you leaned against him. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt. I sent him over here forever ago for our drinks." You leaned over the bar and Mitch's lap and caught your old bartender friend's attention. You felt Mitch’s hand slowly and hesitantly slide across your back, and suddenly you felt weak. You exhaled, trying to focus on your words. "Hi, can I get a champagne, a whiskey neat, and whatever she's having." You flashed your most dazzling smile at the woman.

"A Chardonnay please." Alicia told the bartender. "Thank you, I couldn't get a drink in to save my life." She nodded at you.

"I'm sorry, I'm being so rude. My name is Maggie Sheffield, I didn't catch yours."

"Alicia Hardwick." The woman shook your hand. "I was just talking to Steven here about how we both lived in the same dorm Freshman year, but I don't quite remember him." The woman sounded suspicious.

"Oh my god, you lived in Yates Hall too? Ugh, I really love that building. It's where Steven and I first met. Oh my god, it was the cutest story, wasn't it, S?" You looked up at him and Mitch nodded. The bartender brought your drinks over and Mitch handed them to you and Alicia. "Thanks, babe. So anyway, isn't this funny? I was literally just talking to my friend over there. Rosemary? She's dancing with Katie Myers, Lindsay Orly and Jen Smith?" You pointed to the group of women that you had been chatting and dancing with, and the suspicious Alicia craned her neck to see.

"Oh, I think I remember Rosemary, she lived on the second floor, right?" Alicia tested you.

"Actually, I think it was the third floor. Right, babe?" You looked up at Mitch, and he nodded. You leaned back against Mitch's chest, and he wrapped an arm around you, as you continued trying to convince this woman that Mitch had lived in her Freshman dorm. "Anyway, Rosemary and I were talking about the night when Steve and I met. I was in Rosemary's room borrowing notes for a class, and Steven and her were friendly and he popped his head in to borrow something from her."

"Toothpaste...." Mitch added, trying to help you out from doing all of the heavy lifting.

"Yea..." You smiled up at Mitch and snuggled hard against him. Mitch's breath hitched in the back of his throat, and his hand involuntarily squeezed at your hip harder. Your heart raced at the intimate touching. "Anyway, it was late and Rosemary introduced Steve and I, and Steve was like, 'it's not safe to walk back to your dorm alone this time of night.'" You made a mocking voice. "Even though I just lived over in the Green and Gold Village." You laughed. "But I thought he was cute, a little chubbier back then, but god we all had some baby fat still, am I right?" You laughed and lightly tapped Alicia on the shoulder. "So anyway, he walked me back to my dorm, and nine years later, we're still together." You smiled up at Mitch, then looked back at Alicia. "I'm so sorry, you didn't even remotely want to hear that story, it's just fun getting to tell it to people we went to school with who get how silly it was that Steve was trying to convince me that it was unsafe to walk from Yates to Green and Gold at 11 on a Tuesday night."

"No, no... I'm sorry. I was giving Steve the third degree before because I didn't remember him. We had some party crashers thrown out earlier and I thought he was a straggler because I didn't remember him, but I think I actually remember seeing you two hanging out together in the Yates common room now. I'm just being an alarmist. I feel awful. I'm so sorry, Steve." Alicia apologized profusely.

"It's totally fine. I get it. It's hard to remember everyone from our class. I mean, 2,000 doesn't seem that big in theory, but throw a few new beards, a few extra pounds and five years, and it’s hard to remember anyone." Mitch told her, taking a sip from his whiskey. He was in the clear because of you.

Mitch had knocked on your door, but no one answered. He couldn't get the image of you dancing in that tight cream colored dress out of his head, so he went down to the hotel lounge for a drink. He spotted you curled up on a couch in the corner of the lounge, light and dreamy piano music playing for the late night crowd in the background.

You had a piece of chocolate cake on the arm of the sofa, a fork in hand, a half drunk glass of champagne on the table next to you, and Lord of the Flies folded up in front of your face. You were wearing a blue and red, oversized flannel shirt, black leggings and your moccasins sat on the floor, as your bare feet were tucked underneath you. Mitch ordered a whiskey neat and sat down on the loveseat next to you.

You grinned when you saw him sit. Mitch still had his well-fitted navy blue dress pants on with a crisp white shirt still perfectly tucked in, and unbuttoned neatly by the collar, his mahogany wingtips still perfectly polished and clean. "Well, hey there, Steven Greene. Fancy seeing you here." You said, placing your book and fork down and picking your drink up to your still perfectly done lips. Your hair still cascaded with natural looking curls and your eyeliner was still in place without a smudge.

“I think Y/N suits you better than Maggie.” Mitch said as he settled in next to you.

“Just like Mitch suits you.” You took a sip of champagne and felt the bubbles lightly popping as they went down your throat.

You watched as Mitch pressed the clear glass tumbler to his lips and sipped his nightcap. "I can’t believe you didn’t laugh when that guy said Beowulf."

"Oh, I can’t believe I didn’t either. What an idiot."

"Yea, you definitely shouldn’t talk to anyone that doesn’t appreciate good literature." Mitch commented, the alcohol made him much looser than he normally was.

You smiled, and turned more of your body towards him.. your knee touching his leg, and neither of you moving away. "Then I think I’d only be able to talk to you.."

"That’s fine with me.." Mitch was cut off from the guy that hit on you earlier in the night.

"Maggie.. hey, I've been looking for you all night. It's Brian, from earlier. You know, I can ask the old guy to play something a little bit more upbeat since you still owe me that dance." The man slurred his speech as he ignored Mitch's presence. Brian's friends looked on from the bar, shaking their heads. A few of the other recruits who were also at the bar watched and waited to see what Mitch would do.

"Hey man, I'm Steve, and I think you should probably get some water... hit the hay." Mitch interjected.

"I'm not talking to you, bro. I'm talking to Maggie."

Mitch stood up. "I'd prefer if you didn't since Maggie is my fiancee." You quickly grabbed Mitch's arm with your left hand, obstructing the view of your bare ring finger.

"Steve, sit down, it's okay." You fake begged him.

"Nah, bro, why don't you come tell me to get lost to my face!" The man was belligerent, but Mitch leaned forward anyway. He was feeling suddenly very territorial. You could easily tell that Mitch was ripped through his tight, white shirt and his stature was looming in comparison. Brian's friends came to quickly collect their drunk friend, apologized and dragged him upstairs.

"Oh Steve, thank god for you. I would've hated having to sleep with that guy just to keep my cover in tact." Mitch narrowed his eyes at you, he could hear the sarcasm in your voice. He chuckled and shook his head, sitting back down next to you, and picking his drink back up to take another sip.

"You really saved my ass earlier."

"Actually, Maggie saved your ass." You joked.

Mitch frowned. "Don't undersell yourself. I was watching you all night. You even had me convinced at times that you actually did graduate with those people." Your heart skipped a beat when you heard Mitch say that he had been watching you all night.

“All night?” You questioned, coyly. You had caught him watching you dance earlier that evening and while tipsy, decided to put on a bit of a show for him. You were pleased that he had noticed.

“All night... and you were good at this.” Mitch reminded you of what he was talking about.

"Thanks.. it's not a big deal though, honestly. It's really just getting your foot in the door and getting them talking. People love to spill their life stories to anyone who will really listen at these sorts of things."

"I'll remember that for next time." Mitch told you. "So where'd you come up with your alias?"

"Maggie was the name of my dog growing up, and the rest of the story is literally just my cousin Francine Sheffield, she's from Portland, we kind of look alike, she has an interesting enough backstory but is still far enough away that..." You shrugged your hands. Mitch understood. "Who's Steven Greene, millionaire financial genius?" You asked.

"My brother."

You looked surprised. "I didn't know you had a brother.. with a different last name then you?"

Mitch laughed, the whiskey really loosening him up. "Well my brother is Steven, and he is doing really well for himself on Wall Street, but the Greene part is just cause Steve loved Rachel Green from Friends growing up, and I don't know, it was just one of those things that I thought of when I was trying to find a good fake last name."

"Do you miss your family?" You asked, leaning closer to hear him over the piano music. You rested your head on the back of the couch, close enough to him that if he bent down, he could feel if your lips were as soft and pillowy as they looked. He had to fight the drunken impulse not to.

He thought about telling you a lie about his family, as not to ruin the mood, but decided he didn't want to lie to you. "I do miss my brother. He's a great guy, and I haven’t seen him in well over a year. But, umm..." Mitch pursed his lips. "My parents died in a car crash when I was fourteen. So I guess I miss them too." He chuckled once to himself, clearly uncomfortable with admitting the truth.

Your heart sunk. You pressed your hand against Mitch's knee and rubbed it. "I'm so sorry, that's devastating..." Mitch shrugged. He was distracted by your touch. "I guess that explains the boarding schools then."

A smile curled in the corner of his mouth. "You really do listen to people when they talk."

You decided to use the alcohol in your system as an excuse to be brazen. "Well, I listen to you at least.... I like talking to you. It's easy and you're interesting."

Mitch downed the rest of his drink, catching the bartender's attention and signaling for another round. He turned back to you, running his long fingers over the back of your hand. "I like talking to you."

His words sent shivers down your spine and you blushed. “Mitch, I..”

The bartender brought over your fresh drinks and interrupted your moment. Mitch looked up at the bartender and then at you, and snapped back to reality. This wasn't a vacation, it wasn't a chance to connect with someone else. This was training to get revenge for Katrina. Mitch downed his drink and stood up.

"I'm gonna turn in. Can I walk you up?" He asked, fidgeting with the watch on his wrist.

You nodded, downed your own drink, slipped your shoes on your feet, grabbed your book and followed him to the elevator bank in the lobby. You both turned as you heard a large group come in from the hotel ballroom, the reunion still raging on. One of the women that had flirted with Mitch earlier saw him as the group walked towards the elevators.

"Oh my god, Steve! Steve! I’m so happy you’re here. We're all heading up to the pool, you should come!" She drunkenly slurred as Mitch, you, the woman, and her group piled into the elevator.

"I'm good." Mitch told her, not looking up, but instead staring down in your Y/E/C eyes. You got pressed up against Mitch as the group shoved themselves into the elevator. He wrapped his arms protectively around you again, like he had earlier that night, but better because he could see your face this time. He stared at the small freckles on your nose and cheeks and your long eyelashes. "Excuse us." Mitch said as the elevator stopped on the recruit’s floor, and he guided you out, his hand resting against the small of your back. He walked down the hall with you, his hand still pressed against your body, until you both made it to your door.

He watched as you dipped the keycard into your door and the green light flashed indicating it was unlocked. You turned the handle and pushed it open slightly. You then turned and looked up at him. "Do you want to come in?" You whispered.

Mitch nodded, his heart racing fast as he accepted your invitation. The alcohol was dampening his guilt, and he couldn't deny how much he wanted you and wanted to not leave you. As he stepped into your room, he heard a latch click on the door next to yours and saw Rob and Julian walk out of their room. "Hey Mitch! Want to come down to the bar with Julian and I?" Rob bellowed.

"Dude..." Julian elbowed Rob. He understood that that wasn't Mitch's room and that it was late.

"What?" Rob was oblivious.

Mitch looked down at you. This wasn't right. Neither of you were sober. His face became pensive. He took his hand off of your waist and placed it in his pocket. "Goodnight, Y/N."

"Goodnight." You said, your face faltering from the rejection, as you closed your door.

"Nah, man. I was just walking Y/N back from down there. I'm gonna go head back to my room and go to bed." Mitch told the two men.

Mitch dipped his keycard into the lock on his door and heard it click. He turned the handle and paused. He thought about going back to your room and seeing you. He shook his head. "Just go to bed, Mitch." He muttered to himself as he closed the door behind him.

#mitch rapp #mitch rapp x reader #american assassin #american assassin au #the recruit aa #the recruit #dylan o'brien #stiles #stiles stilinski #teen wolf #fan fiction #thomas edison #the maze runner

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mangokiwitropicalswirl · 7 years

Text

Paging Dr. Scully, chp 4

(Note: I’ve decided to title the chapters according to roughly where they fall in season 1)

Paging Dr. Scully 1: Squeeze / 2: Jersey Devil / 3: Shadows

Paging Dr. Scully 4: Ghost in the Machine

It takes less than 30 minutes to wander through the Liberty Bell exhibit hall and eat their cheesesteaks on a park bench.

“Do you want to grab some coffee?”

“I guess that depends,” says Scully.

“Depends on what?” He stretches his legs out and leans back against the bench, wiping the last of the cheesesteak grease off his face with a tissue-thin napkin.

“On whether I’m going to have to keep myself awake for another three hours on my drive back home tonight.”

She’s not sure what she’s asking. She’s not suggesting they shack up in his hotel room, but it’s midnight and she’s dangerously close to nodding off right here on the bench.

“I could keep you awake, drive back with you,” Mulder offers an arm to her as he stands.

“What about your car?”

“It’s a fleet sedan. Left it at the Philly offices.”

“How’d you get here?”

“Taxi,” he shrugs again.

“So you could drive back with me tonight? To D.C.?”

“If you don’t mind swinging by the offices to grab my bag, then, yeah. Sure.”

Scully wipes her hands against her pant legs and smiles up at him. “Okay, but coffee first.”

They find an all-night diner and slide across from one another in a vinyl booth. The coffee tastes like pitch and diesel, but Scully hardly cares. The combination of this sudden bout of spontaneity and the gleam in Mulder’s eye has her buzzing already, and no amount of bitter coffee is going to dampen it.

“So, what was it that possessed you to call me up tonight?” She asks him pointedly as she shakes a pack of sugar in her cup.

“What an interesting choice of phrase, dear doctor,” Mulder teases. “What possessed me indeed? That’s exactly what the victim in my case here thought she was experiencing. Seems everyone around her kept coming to a tragic end. She thought that maybe she was possessed by the restless spirit of her dead boss.” He unspools the story like a ghost tale, pausing dramatically, leaning toward her.

Scully pauses, holding the coffee cup halfway to her mouth, her eyes wide. He’s serious. He’s presenting it as if he’s joking, but she can see he’s serious.

“Was she?” Scully asks him honestly.

Mulder shrugs. “I think so, but the supervising agents on this case weren’t so sure. They didn’t take too kindly to my theories. More interested in pinning the deaths on a local terrorist cell than actually uncovering the truth.” He takes a long swig of his black coffee and glances out the window.

“Do you usually uncover all this... I don’t know,” she pauses, “weird stuff?”

“That’s my deal,” he nods. “They put me on cases where the usual avenues of investigation turn up empty.”

“So that explains your Jersey Devil thing. And the questions in the hospital about whether I believe in aliens.”

“I guess so,” he smiles. “And it’s not every day I meet a girl who can quote me Fermi’s Paradox.”

“That was my undergrad degree talking,” she takes another swallow of coffee. “I majored in physics before med school.”

Mulder’s eyes widen in approval.

She continues. “Not the most typical route, I know, but I liked all the big questions physics asks. And the mathematical theories made O-Chem seem pretty easy in comparison.”

Sometimes Scully feels like she shouldn’t talk too much about her education. More than one girlfriend has reminded her how guys can feel threatened by smart girls. Sometimes even her own mother had suggested that she downplay the fact she graduated early, or that she finished with high honors.

So even though she’s mostly unapologetic for her intellect -- and has the long dating dry spells to prove it -- it’s still not like her to spout off to potential suitors about things like finding O-Chem easy. But there’s something about Mulder that tells her he not only isn’t threatened, but he is finding it compelling. She meets his eyes, a bit embarrassed, and remembers it’s polite to turn the tables.

“How about you? What’d you do in school?”

“Psychology.” He half-mumbles. “At Oxford. Seems the FBI thought I had a knack for getting in the heads of criminals.” He grins.

“So you’re a criminal profiler with a penchant for the paranormal. I think I’ve got it figured out now.”

“Penchant, nice word. Especially at this hour. Remind me not to underestimate you when we play Scrabble.” He glances at his watch. “Should we get going? It’s going to be a late night as it is.”

Scully nods, pretending she didn’t notice he said “when” instead of “if’ in that last sentence, and tips the last drops from her cup. “You want to drive first shift?” She says, holding out her keys.

They’re an hour and a half into the drive, Scully back at the wheel, when the conversation turns. She had asked him about his family, where his parents lived now, where he grew up, all the usual chit chat that gets brought up when you’re just starting to connect.

“You said you had a sister, where does she live?” Scully asks nonchalantly as she checks over her back shoulder for a lane change. She maneuvers the car in line and glances back at Mulder, surprised to find him gone quiet, a solemn look across his face.

“What is it?” Scully pauses.

“My sister disappeared when I was 12.” He stops and takes a breath. “We… um… we never found her.”

Scully doesn’t know what to say so she waits to see if he wants to tell her more.

“She’s the reason I got into all these cases,” he goes on. “Her disappearance was dismissed as unexplained. We never got a satisfactory answer.”

“I'm so sorry,” Scully feels like she should pull over and intently listen, but there’s a sense in which the moving car is propelling him. This way, he doesn’t have to look at her. She senses that it’s easier if he can just stare ahead and talk.

“It’s okay.” He swallows. “I’ve done a lot of work to understand it. And I’ve come to believe that I can find her. These cases are a way to get some answers. If not for myself, then at least for people like me, when science can’t explain their losses.”

“That's a beautiful way to look at it.” Scully looks across the console at the stark relief of his profile in the streetlights. “To give a larger purpose to what you do.”

“I’m glad you see it that way,” he smiles weakly toward her. “The Bureau doesn’t always. They think I’m caught up in some harebrained pet project.”

“Well, screw what they think,” Scully blurts out emphatically, surprising herself a little. All these revelations make her like him. A lot. He’s wounded, and noble, and it’s making her want to defend his every move.

“I should get you to come and work for me,” he teases. “It’d be nice to have an ally.”

“I’ll keep that in mind in case this doctor thing doesn’t work out,” she teases back, smiling, resisting the urge she’s feeling to reach across and take his hand.

It is almost 5 am when they pull, bleary-eyed, in to Mulder’s parking lot. Sleep is drifting over them both so thickly, it is all Scully can do to push the button, pop the trunk and wave goodbye as Mulder stumbles up his stoop.

“Get some sleep,” she calls out weakly.

“I’ll call you soon, okay?” He calls back, waving.

She sleeps away her Saturday completely.

Her Sunday shift bleeds into Monday, and then they ask her to stay on because they’re suddenly short staffed. A scheduling supervisor approved too many people for too many vacation days at once. Even during normal stretches, it’s not that unusual for work to swallow weeks whole without her noticing. She keeps clothes in a locker at the hospital, and naps in empty rooms between rotations.

So it’s Wednesday before she realizes that if he’s left a message at her home number, he probably thinks she’s blowing him off. She’s never been good at what they call the “work-life balance” and she knows it has driven more than a few potential dates away. But she just doesn’t know how to give her work anything less than everything she has.

Thursday afternoon she’s writing orders and reviewing charts, hopeful she might get a chance to rush home and take a real bath after several days of hospital quickie showers, when she glances up and sees Mulder pacing in the hall of the ER. He doesn't see her.

Scully smoothes her scrubs and tucks a couple greasy flyaway hairs behind her ears. At first she’s annoyed she never bothers to tuck a tube of lipgloss in her pocket, but as she watches him, it’s evident he’s far too worried about something to take stock of how she looks.

“Mulder,” she calls out, walking toward him where he’s pacing. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“Doc.” He looks up, startled and pale-faced. “Oh that’s right, this is your hospital. I didn’t even think….”. He trails off, wiping a bead of sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand.

“Seriously, are you okay? You look like you need to sit down.” Scully gestures toward the waiting room.

“I'm fine. It’s…”. He swallows, his eyes darting aimlessly around the room. “A friend of mine. My partner, my former partner…”.

Scully nods, assuming this has something to do with a girlfriend or an ex, determined to look unfazed by whatever he might reveal. “Do you need me to find out if she’s okay?” Scully offers hesitantly.

“No, it’s not,” Mulder stutters, “she’s not, I mean, he’s not… He was my partner at the FBI. Several years ago. He was in an accident in an elevator today. They told me they rushed him here.”

Scully reddens just a little, embarrassed at the tiny flare of jealousy that had sparked inside her gut, and even more embarrassed to have been feeling that amidst what is obviously a difficult and tragic situation.

“I’ll see what I can do.” She angles her head toward the waiting room. “Why don’t you go sit down? What’s his name?”

“Jerry Lamana,” Mulder answers, reluctantly stumbling back down the hall.

It doesn’t take more than a couple minutes for her to find the intake records. DOA. Dead on arrival.

She’s going to have to tell Mulder that his friend is dead. They have chaplains and comfortable bereavement rooms for this kind of thing, but it seems wrong that anybody else give him the news. She smooths a hand over her hair and takes a swig of stale, lukewarm coffee from her old stained mug.

At the door of the waiting room, she meets his worried gaze and her own eyes widen. She opens her mouth to ask him to step into a private room, but closes it again when she sees that he already knows what she’s about to say. He’s read her expression effortlessly. She sees his hazel eyes fill up with tears as he stands up to go. She wants to get him out of this public space. She wants to pull him by the arm into a room where he can cry.

Instead, Mulder gives her a long look as a single tear spills over down his cheek. He nods and mouths, “thank you,” before he turns and goes.

She sees death so regularly, it feels like a blow to the stomach to remember that every death she sees as part of her day in day out business is someone's friend, someone’s partner, somebody’s lover or parent or child. It’s a difficult but essential thing to remember, or she risks becoming cold. A few tears brim in her own eyes as she realizes just how detached she has started to become. And then she feels terrible for the fact she’s also wondering if he’d called her back this week. It’s not the kind of petty thing she should be wondering about when somebody just died. But she’s wondering it anyway, and whether she’ll ever see him again.

#paging dr scully #xf fic #xf fanfic #xf alternate universe #msr fic #mywriting

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professor-abeloved · 7 years

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Better Than This [a mc/maxwell one-shot]

Title: Better Than This

Alternate Title: Give Maxwell a Hug 2k17

Summary: Maxwell reflects on the state of his life... if only he could start thinking about the state of his heart as well.

Ships: One-sided Maxwell/MC.

Rating: PG-13/T

Notes: Default names (Riley for the MC and Liam for the Prince) were used. Set in-between chapters 10 and 11 of The Royal Romance. For the #ChoicesCreates prompt, “That was fun, let’s do it again sometime!” Beta’d by the fantastic @principal-mc <3

Tagging: @hollyashton & @zigisbisexual

Maxwell couldn’t take it anymore.

He was lying on the bed, an arm thrown over his face to block out the glaring light overhead - as well as everything else. He couldn’t bear to see his room right now. They hadn’t sold everything yet, but just looking at the spaces where his things should have been reminded him of what would happen if they didn’t win the competition.

(Would they have to sell the mansion? The entire estate? Where would they go, where would they even live?)

(Maxwell squeezed his eyes shut, as if to block out the barrage of worrying thoughts.)

As if Bertrand’s lectures hadn’t been enough of a reminder already. His brother’s angry expression, the disappointment in his eyes, the desperation in his raised voice…

It was hard enough to deal with that fact that House Beaumont could lose everything, but Maxwell couldn’t stand losing Bertrand. Growing up, his brother had been his partner-in-crime, sole confidant, and best friend. But lately, Bertrand had grown uptight and distant. Back then, there were no secrets between the brothers; now, Bertrand didn’t even trust Maxwell with most things concerning the estate, and the things he did let Maxwell help with… well, he was always so disappointed with everything Maxwell did. It was like Maxwell couldn’t do anything right.

If Maxwell were to be completely honest with himself, sometimes it felt like he was living with a total stranger; not the brother who threw epic parties, ruffled his hair and hugged him when he felt down, and supported him no matter what.

Maxwell felt his chest tighten, thinking about how much Bertrand had changed. There were no words for how it felt like to have the person who supported you throughout the years suddenly turn around and treat everything you did as a mistake.

This morning’s lecture had been one of the worst.

Bertrand had been saying how they were doing surprisingly well with Riley being one of the frontrunners in the competition. Maxwell had smiled, thinking that Bertrand was starting to share in his optimistic belief that they could win… when Bertrand switched gears, saying how lucky they were that Riley’s performance hadn’t been a total disaster.

Maxwell felt a burst of anger on Riley’s behalf. “It’s not Riley’s fault! She’s been doing the best she can even though Olivia’s been after her since day one—”

“Maxwell.” Bertrand’s tone was like broken glass—sharp and cutting. “I wasn’t talking about Riley or Olivia. I was talking about you.”

It felt like someone had dumped a bucket of ice-cold water on Maxwell’s head. “I… what?”

“Between giving her the wrong information about the tents, forgetting to teach her the Cordonian Waltz, and not telling her she would be in need of a swimsuit...”

(Maxwell tried not to flinch as Bertrand threw his mistakes in his face.)

Bertrand was shaking his head reprovingly. “Honestly, Maxwell. I know you’re normally not this irresponsible, but with the way you’ve been acting… It’s as almost as if you’re want us to lose.”

“Of course not!” Maxwell burst out. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Maxwell knew that Bertrand hadn’t been happy with his decisions recently, but how could Bertrand accuse him of sabotage? “Why would I—Do you really think that I could—”

Beseeching, Maxwell stared into Bertrand’s eyes and tried to understand what would lead Bertrand to this conclusion. Bertrand gazed back, stoic and unreadable.

A painfully long silence passed.

“…Don’t you think I want to save House Beaumont as much as you do?” Maxwell said at last. His voice came out small, and he couldn’t disguise the note of hurt that entered his tone.

Expression softening, Bertrand realized that he’d crossed a line and immediately apologized. “Maxwell, I didn’t mean what I said. I… I should’ve known that you only wanted what was best for the House. I just can’t afford any more mistakes right now. The stakes are higher than ever, what with the King retiring early. Surely you can see that, can’t you?”

Bertrand had to go after that, saying something about a meeting with some other nobles, but his words stuck with Maxwell, the hurt lasting hours after the encounter. He knew that Bertrand was only stressed, and this was his way of coping with it; but knowing how little Bertrand had faith in him… it really stung.

Did he think Maxwell didn’t know the consequences of losing the competition? Of course, Maxwell knew what was at stake: their family’s wealth and reputation—not to mention, Riley’s and Liam’s happiness, the very fate of Cordonia itself… Winning was paramount to making everyone happy, and Maxwell just wanted what was best for everyone.

It was just… too much pressure at times, knowing that this might be one of the last times he would be able to afford taking a plane to New York or renting his own boat at the Regatta. Maxwell was the type to live in the present and take things as they come; he didn’t see any harm in enjoying himself while he still could.

He honestly hadn’t meant to mess up so much. He just… didn’t stop to think about things beyond the current moment.

Besides, even with Maxwell’s slip-ups, Riley had done fine, hadn’t she? Even without financial aid or Maxwell’s guidance, she had performed gracefully under pressure. Maxwell knew that, even at a disadvantage, she could take on Olivia and the other suitors.

Since the day Maxwell met her, he knew she was special. She was gorgeous, of course: that much he could see, even when she was in the waitress’ uniform. More than that, however, there was something about her that drew his attention like a moth drawn to a flame. It was in the way she spoke, witty and charming as ever; the way she enthusiastically brought him and his friends to a bar despite that fact that she had no obligation to them whatsoever. It was in the way she agreed to being his competitor, all spontaneous and daring, and ready for a new life of adventure. She gave Maxwell such a good feeling just by being around.

Riley was definitely something special—and Maxwell wasn’t the only who noticed.

For one, Liam instantly seemed smitten with her. That night when he and Riley came back after seeing the Statue of Liberty, Maxwell had seen the way he looked at her. He was helpless, completely utterly enraptured by her charm.

That was when Maxwell decided that he couldn’t let her go.

He had no regrets about inviting Riley to Cordonia. He truly believed that Riley could make Liam happy, and he knew Liam could do the same for her. While the thought of her being crowned queen of Cordonia was a bit farther from his mind, Maxwell believed that she had what it would take. She could be anything she set her mind to—that much Maxwell knew.

Getting to spend time so much time with her was a pleasant bonus Maxwell hadn’t anticipated. She was hilarious and so much fun to be around. Everything faded away when she was there. He understood (perhaps more than he should) why Liam, Hana, and even Drake gravitated towards her.

There were no words sufficient to describe Riley. She was brilliant, she was amazing, she… She deserved someone who wasn’t a total screw-up. She deserved someone better.

Maxwell took a deep breath.

He was going to do better. He was going to be better for her, for Bertrand, and for everyone else involved in this. And he was going to start later tonight by teaching Riley all about Cordonia’s Apple Blossom Festival.

Determinedly, Maxwell got out of bed and began to prepare for Riley’s princess lesson. It was a while before he left to go to her, his footsteps echoing loudly in the empty room.

“Okay, Riley. ” Maxwell gave a grave nod of his head as he imparted enlightening wisdom to her, “The important thing is to eat the Cordonian Ruby –”

“At the same time as the other suitors, and only after the Royal Family says so,” she finished.

Maxwell blinked. “How did you…?“

“I can read your mind.”

He grinned at her seemingly impassive face. “Oh yeah? What am I thinking right now?”

Riley stared intently at him. Maxwell resisted the urge to fidget under her gaze. “You’re thinking of how much you really want a cronut right now.”

“God, yeees! I’ve been craving one ever since that night you introduced us to them,” Maxwell sighed, glad to have the thought of the wonderful cronuts occupy his mind. “I honestly don’t know how we managed to live so long without them.”

Riley chuckled lightly.

They sat in silence for a while, Maxwell flipping through his book of Cordonian Etiquette that he had brought along for this little lesson. He had to make sure Riley was prepared for this.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up, startled. Riley was looking at him, her eyes bright with concern. “Hey, Maxwell… Is everything okay?”

Maxwell felt his heart swell. Even when she should be worrying about how to impress all of Cordonia, she was still worried about him.

“I’m fine, Riley. Nothing’s wrong, don’t worry.” He flashed his best camera-ready grin. Yup, she believes me, I totally nailed it.

Riley took one look at Maxwell’s forced smile, eyebrows furrowing. “Maxwell… the reason why I knew about the Cordonian Ruby was because you already said it about five times … In a row.”

“Oh.” He averted his gaze, cursing silently. “Well, it’s… really important?” His excuse fell flat on its face.

Riley frowned at him. It was not an expression Maxwell liked to see on her face, especially if he was the cause of it. “Maxwell, I’m not going to force you to say anything if you don’t want to, but…” She gently took his hands in hers; if she noticed the way he tensed, she didn’t mention it, only smiled reassuringly. “I’m here for you.”

Maxwell raised his head and met her gaze. She was so genuine and so kind… He couldn’t bring himself to refuse her comfort.

“Thanks, Riley. That means a lot to me.” Maxwell sighed. “It’s just… Bertrand and I got into fight.”

“Oh, Maxwell. I’m sorry,” she said, giving his hands a comforting squeeze.

“It’s… I keep messing up. The thing with the tents, the Waltz, and then the swimsuit thing… God, I never actually apologized for any of that, huh?” He bit his lip, ashamed. “I’m so sorry, Riley.” I’m sorry I fucked up so much. I’m sorry I couldn’t do more for you.

“It’s okay. Everyone makes mistakes. What’s important is that we do our best to learn from them and move on. And hey, don’t think I haven’t noticed that you’re working hard at teaching me about the Apple Blossom Festival. I really appreciate the effort, Maxwell.”

Riley was just way too nice for her own good.

“Besides, you can always make it up to me by telling me embarrassing stories of Drake at the Christmas party.” She winked at him.

Maxwell couldn’t help but smile, his first genuine one in hours.

Riley smiled back. “Whatever it was, don’t let what Bertrand said get to you, alright?”

The irony was that it was usually Maxwell saying that to her.

“Um, about that… he sort of accused me of trying to lose the competition on purpose… since I keep screwing up.” Maxwell didn’t mean to let all that slip, but there was something about Riley that made him feel like he could tell her anything.

(Well, almost anything.)

Riley’s eyes widened in surprise, then almost immediately narrowed in anger. “What? Maxwell, that’s bullshit! You’ve been nothing but sweet and helpful. Sure, you might’ve made some mistakes, but that doesn’t erase that fact you’re the reason why I’m even in Cordonia in the first place!”

Maxwell blinked. That was… true.

Riley was gripping his hands tightly as she continued her passionate tirade: “How could Bertrand even think that!? Maxwell, you’re my number one supporter here! I know that you, of all people, would want to see me win and marry Liam.”

Looking down at their intertwined hands, Maxwell hated how he couldn’t agree with that. Instead he said, “I’ll do anything to make you and Liam happy, Riley.”

This, at least, was true.

Riley grinned at him. “And that’s why you’re the best, Maxwell.”

“You know it. Thanks again for everything, Riley.”

“Hey, don’t mention it. That was fun. If you count disproving Bertrand’s bullshit fun. We should do it again sometime.” Despite her joking words, she gave his hands another reassuring squeeze as if to say, I’m here for you.

Maxwell couldn’t help but smile as he slowly took his hands out of her grip. “Okay, enough of the sentimentality. We have a few more chapters of apple-slicing etiquette to go.”

“Seriously? You think there’d be less ways to slice an apple.”

“Not if the Royal Cordonian Apple Juggler’s involved.”

“…There’s a Royal Cordonian Apple Juggler?”

#choicescreates #mc x maxwell #maxwell beaumont #the royal romance #trr fanfic #el writes #i have so many thoughts and feelings about this but ill probs ramble about that in a directors cut or smth lololol

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