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husbandohunter · 3 years ago

Note

A Furry Predicament, but reversed (Reader turns into a cat)? Pretty please with a sweet lil cherry on top? (I recently stumbled across your blog and may I just say that I absolutely adore your works??) Thank youu and take care~~

A Furrier Predicatment [Genshin x Cat!Reader]

♤♡◇♧☆

Synopsis: It's your turn to be a cat after this incident.

Characters: Diluc, Kaeya, Xiao, Albedo, Zhongli, Childe, Venti

(A/n): Ah you did OwO that's very sweet of you. It's alot of fun to write, especially when your imagination is stunted and you just gotta spit out something silly.

=======================

[Diluc]

Any beloved pet owned by Master Diluc would be under the most high quality and meticulous treatement. Mostly for cats since they tend to be calm while elegant...to some extent. If they were dogs then he'll ensure that they also serve as a partner for sniffing out trouble such as a certain bard who'd might've sneaked into the wine cellars. But you weren't either, so to say, you were both a beloved AND a cat.

As he picks you up gently into his arms, Diluc would be a little baffled on what to do next. He has no idea how to care for delicate creatures as he never had one (other than a pet tortoise but that's different) in which he needed to look for help. But who? The staff? Certainly not, no one can find out that his partner turned into a pet (imagine all the scandals he'll be in). Jean? Anything but the knights of Favonius. And most certainly not his brother.

So Diluc ends up figuring everything out by himself (old habits die hard). All the sweets and regular meals you craved were no long in your menu, you were forced to have a proper cat diet because he believed it was healthier. Half of the time he has no idea what he's doing, since you were a cat and all you could do was "meow" (which Diluc forgets. He tries to have a mundane conversation until you stare at him with feline eyes. That was when he remembered).

"What would you like for tonight's dinner, my love?"

"Meow." He has alot to learn.

Though Master Diluc often gets very tired and he attempts to take a quick nap before killing himself over the next set of duties. That is, until you could help it. Being a cat has it's furry and comfy advantages. So you leapt up to the bed as quietly as possible and onto the side of your lover, circling a few times to see if he was really asleep. When he was you snuggled close to keep him warm, hoping it would lull him into a rest even deeper. He slept like a baby.

~xx~

[Kaeya]

If the Cavalry Capatain were to own a pet, they would either be charmed by him or snaring their teeth because of his unreadable and suspicious aura. Animal instincts are quite powerful. But your case wasn't the latter, thankfully and he could feel himself growing fond of this new found relationship. Almost. What should he do with you now that you're a cat, Kaeya wonders.

Belly rubs and a lot of them. He absolutely adores the way your cute little nose scrunches up while he runs his fingers on the center of your tummy (though he knows when to stop, Kaeya is rather gentle with you nowadays). You found that he absolutely adores the shape of your nose, would pick you up and boop yours with his own somehow knows how to be his flirty self despite your unusual form.

There was this one incident where you saw something shiny flashing over the wall. Slowly you followed it as the bright dot moved futher and further away, evetually gaining speed. Little did you know it was Kaeya who was watching you swipe your little paws up and down against the wall while he was just cleaning his sword. How could he help it? You were often so headstrong and independent, now you were just an adorable little kitten that loves to play with yarn and shiny things. It backfired him though, now there were a bunch of scratchmarks marring the surfaces (which he had to pay for repairs).

Takes you out to Windrise so that you could get some fresh air (also for you to find somewhere else to shed your fur other than his humble abode). Kaeya sits back under a tree while you either chase a butterfly or start slapping against the dandelions (only sneeze when they fly into your face). He wasn't sure if you were aware of what you were doing right now, if you were then he'll have lots of things to talk about once you turn back into human. If not, then at least he had the opportunity to witness such a soft side coming from you.

~xx~

[Xiao]

If any animal were to go close towards the adeptus, they would run away. Xiao isn't very good at interacting with others, pets included, usually they would run into the alleyway or hide around the legs of their owners while he glaringly, blankly stares at them (Even though he wouldn't admit it, Xiao thinks to himself, how soft is cat fur?) Now he gets to touch your cat form and turns out that fur is very ticklish yet pleasant against his skin.

Would be the most awkward conversationalist, the poor yaksha was already terrible with his words (often coming out harsh so he prefers to either keep away or say nothing at all) and even with you sometimes, now it was almost impossible to communicate. Xiao is not very good at reading a cat's body language. When you want him to hold you again, you'd walk in circles. He assumes you were hungry and leaps out the window to go fetch some fish...for the nth time there was a pile of raw salmon stacking upon the floor. Xiao thinks that maybe salmon species weren't to your liking, hence he does out to find another one.

As he plays his flute, you'd magically doze off on his lap. (There was one thing that you both can communicate with at last). Slowly but surely, he comes to learn the different gestures you make for certain situations. You often rub yourself upon his leg which he had heard to be a cat's way of claiming their territory. That was when Xiao picks you up, FINALLY. Though the real reason why it took him this long was because he was hesitant to hold you. He never really held a pet so naturally he has no idea how to hold a cat. Ends up cradling you in his arms because it seemed to be a safer option <3

"I never thought I'd be able to hold you like this," Xiao softly says to your lazy form, observing the way your ears perked up at the sound of his voice, "But I...forget it. We can stay like this for the time being, if you'd like. If not, that's fine too."

You stay.

~xx~

[Albedo]

The only pets Albedo had were for his alchemic experiments (plus they were put in cages too). Fact be told, he would make a terrible pet owner with the lifestyle he has now. The alchemist would be so absorbent into his work that he'll most likely forget that he has someone to feed and by the time he realized it, they would have already starved to death. After hearing glass bottles crashing to the floor, Albedo bursts into the rooms as the smoke fills it completely, finding a cat lost between it. The cat was you. He knows because he made the potions.

Sometimes he'd a little too scientific for his own good. Albedo assumed that when you turned into a cat, you've gone into cat mode and ends up treating you as such. "No, don't go near any bodies of water. You wouldn't like it." He almost forgets that you were once human which is very much like him if you had to be honest. Though when he does find out that you still carried human traits, Albedo must find ways to adapt things to your liking.

He makes your food himself. He's not a cook but he sure is good at everything he does, even if it's something he never did before. This goes for other areas too such as the size of your bed, if you need a little couch to stay on or maybe some tools to play around. (The only time when he is a good pet owner). In his sketchbook he'd have a bunch of blueprints and contraptions of what to make next. There's something enjoyable when spoiling you, those little reactions when you're pleased, like the twitch of your whiskers or the lift of your tail. Albedo finds is very cute.

On top of all that, he could also make you a potion to turn you back into normal. It seemed that it was the last thing he thought of on the list. Albedo was too occupied with treating you like a cat that it all flew over his head until now. Time flies when you're having fun.

~xx~

[Zhongli]

Unlike Albedo, anyone who has Zhongli as a pet owner would be considered to be a very lucky animal. He radiates a calm and serene aura that gives the perfect environment to have infinite nap times. People look at this man and wonder why his pet never gives him any trouble, especially when cats were considered to be both fiesty and needy. But they just didn't know that the cat was you (not like it would make a difference, any animal would know that Zhongli was no ordinary man).

How on earth does he know what you're saying? Maybe it's because he was once an archon. You could meow and he knows exactly what you would like to snack on. You could tilt your head, he takes it that you were curious on what he was currently doing (which was exactly what you were wondering), you can say nothing at all yet as if he could read your mind, Zhongli comes over to pet you with his gloved hands.

"How can I tell? Indeed it is because you're my lover, of course. Throughout this time we spent together, I've come to learn the way you speak through your eyes. They seem to hold true no matter what form you take. It's rather comforting."

Though there were many moments where you sneak up behind Zhongli. His hair, his ponytail- so long. Must play with. As you jump up and down with his thin strand swings side to side, it'll take a few seconds for him to decipher what your were doing. The minute he turns around he catches you with his hands midair and laughs heartfully. Cats were very endearing creatures.

~xx~

[Childe]

Back home in Snezhnaya, Childe would probably have owned a dog or two. They were mostly meant for hunting purposes, big and large furry creatures with thick skin suitable to endure the harsh cold. He has dogs because cats hate him for some strange reason. They either hiss or snootly turn their backs on him, one time he picked one up as a kid but his face bleeding after the cat scratched him with their paws. But of course you wouldn't do that to him. You would never~ he was your cutie pie anyways.

He was an obnoxious hugger, not gentle at all. Childe forgets his strength as a human man and when he squeezes you tightly against his chest, you'd spike out on all ends because by the archons, you're suffocating. But it was your fault for feeling so comfy and warm! Similar to Kaeya, they're both obnoxious but Childe deemed himself to be even worse. He'd rub his face against yours, commenting on how sensitive it sways. Tonia once told him that she wanted a pet cat instead, maybe he should also bring you back to his homeland now.

Yes he would love to play with you. Bring in the cat toys...or not. This was the eleventh Fatui Harbinger, what were you thinking? Normal cat activities? Not here. He's gonna teach you how to hunt like how he taught his dogs to hunt in Snezhnaya. You gave him the most deadpanned and dissapointed look with your large feline glare. Not only was he disliked by cats but he certainly was not good with them.

Though he can take it down a notch sometimes and just indulge in relaxing activities. When there was nothing else for him to do or when he was just tired after a productive day, he'd sit by the kitchen and you on top of the table. While you yawned and leaned down for a nap, Childe plays with the small of your paws to the soft edge of your nails. If he taps your nose, your whiskers twitch. Your ears are nice, maybe he should get you a headband version once you turned back to human.

You immediately wake up when he touches your tail.

~xx~

[Venti]

Achoo!

You sometimes wonder how is it that the anemo archon was able to live through 2000 years without getting beaten up by a cat. If andrius was a large cougar than a wolf, maybe he wouldn't be an archon now. Which is why you are to stay miles far far away from him unless you want the whole of Mondstadt to be blown away by the wind.

Wears a mask (as if this were the covid19 pandemic), although it doesn't take away all his problems, at least it'll minimize it. Venti always has a box of tissues ready but you can tell by the puffiness of his eyes that he's been sneezing alot. He really tries his hardest to pitch in every once in a while when Albedo was working on a cure for you to go back to normal. Though acts as if he was quarantined by staying all the way at the other side of the room.

"Ahahaha don't mind me. It's your local bard of Mondstadt dropping by to see how things are going. I wanna make sure how long it will take for you to make the potion? Just curious!"

No hugs, cuddles or anything involving close proximity. This makes Venti very pouty and impatient. Albedo finds it very hard to concentrate with all the sniffling and sneezing that he had no choice but to kick him out. It didn't help that the location was Dragonspine, now he was sneezing even more.

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rein4r1 · 4 years ago

Text

Portrait

Wc: 1.9k

Warning/s: Homophobia, Signs of Mental Illness, Mentions of Mental and Physical Abuse, Mentions of sexual activity, Dark Content

Pairing: [Modern AU] Mikasa x F!Reader (They/Them)

Genre: Fluff if you squint, Angst

Synopsis: On which Mikasa offers them a solution to their problems

They couldn't help but create a different reality

MINORS READ WITH DISCRETION

“So tell us Y/n L/n”

“Tell you what? I have nothing to tell you!”

“Tell us why you killed your parents.”

They pulled her knees to their chests, tightening their hold. The air from the AC doing nothing but worsen the already dreadful atmosphere. With shaking hands, they touched the side of their face, feeling the sting from where their father slapped them from hours ago. It wasn’t his aggressiveness that hurt them nor was it the shattered frame of a portrait that stood proudly on top of the island table, but it was their mother’s words; “I can’t believe we have a homosexual under our roof!”

Their parents were always conservative, believing that people who like the same sex are nothing but sinful. In all honesty, they believed every word they fed growing up. At least until they met her. Maybe deep down, they were already different from what their parents fear, just hiding in the closet. The first time they saw her was in the middle of the hallway, junior year in high school. To be honest, they didn’t have friends, them having friends is far-fetched anyway.

Not only did they hate their situation at home, but they also hate their situation at school. It’s not like they’re physically troubled by other kids, but they can always hear their murmurings, clearly them being the subject of their gossip.

“For someone with a pretty appearance, they sure are crazy.”

“Shut up! They might hear.”

School was already hell for them; just in the middle of the hallway stood a girl with short black hair, there she stood in the sea of despondence. They always had a downcast look, when was the last time they stared at anything but their feet. They can’t help but be drawn to her dark orbs, something about her enigmatic look draws them to her. The felt their body move automatically towards her, but in the heap of the crowd, she was gone. Their eyes searched any nook and cranny for her, hoping that there’s something she left by. And they felt it, the erratic beating of their hearts, as if nothing will help to calm it.

The next time they saw her was at the school’s courtyard, sitting at one of the benches looking like she’s lost in her own thoughts. They slowly approached her, sitting just at the other end of the bench. As if sensing their presence, her head turns towards them. Her face shows aloofness, but their eyes bore in theirs with curiosity. She turned her head back to the horizon, clearly not minding their presence.

“You look sad.” ‘What?’

“You look like… you’ve been failed by the people around you…” she continues as they look at her with sadness in their eyes.

“Wha- What are you talking about?...” And out of the blue, she pulled them towards her, letting their head rest on her shoulder. She brought her hand to caress their hair, and all they could do is cry. It’s been so long since they became vulnerable, looking no different than a walking corpse. “Don’t worry Y/n, I’m here now.” ‘Huh but how does she know my name?’

“Wait how did you-“

“I’ve always been watching you Y/n, I’m sorry it took me a long time.” They look at her face and saw genuine repentance. “But I haven’t- I don’t know who you are.” As if sensing their growing confusion, she smiled; “Mikasa, my name’s Mikasa.”

Mikasa is their first friend and the first person they talked outside of their family. They didn’t feel alone anymore with the girl beside them. The once suffocating halls didn’t feel smothering anymore. Their eyes didn’t look downcast, it slowly began to look less dull and look more with vigor. But that didn’t do anything to lessen the outlandish look their schoolmates gave them, their mumblings only continue to worsen. It didn’t matter anymore, since Mikasa is by their side, and she didn’t feel alone anymore.

Mikasa slept over at their house, this was something they’ve been looking forward the whole weekends. Lying together in their bed as they faced each other, Mikasa brought her nimble finger to draw in their features as she reached stay strand of their hair and placed it behind their eye. As if there was an unknown force that compels them to each other, they felt her lips brush against theirs in a gently manner. Feeling the way their lips moved in sync with each other, Mikasa’s kisses were steady, gentle, and slow

She looks at them as if she revers them with her whole entirety. They felt her hands drag across their skin like an adagio. Mikasa looked at their eyes for any signs of discomfort, but they only brought themselves closer as an answer. And that night, they made love under the light emanating from the moon.

A few days later, Y/n sat at the dining area with their parents for dinner. Their mother was babbling about how charming their neighbor’s son is. It fell into deaf ears of course, only having Mikasa in their thoughts.

“Y/n you should meet Mr. Grice’s son, I heard he’s about your age.” They snapped their head towards their father, they could not believe the words that came out of his mouth. Never in her life did he appreciate them having any malefriends. “You ought to have friends at your age, create a network with people.”

“I already have a friend ‘pa” he could only dismiss their reply. Their mother clearly being insistent on bringing the Grice boy and them together. “I know both of you are taking your exams for university, it doesn’t hurt having room for more people in your life.”

“I thought you never wanted me to have any guy friends.”

“But it’s the Grices we’re talking about.” They came to understand their mother’s intentions. The Grice family were considered wealthy and influential, who doesn’t want to marry into a rich family anyway? Obviously, Y/n L/n who only has Mikasa in their heart. Plus, the Grice boy already had an army of girls (and boys) willing to be his significant other. It was supposed to be a normal dinner, with them minding their business, leaving their parents to whatever chit chat they’re engrossed in. That is until, their father said something that triggered more on her already displeased mood.

“God, those sinners, parading around for some rights when they clearly don’t deserve any.” Her father muttered in disgust. The television was on, displaying news about a protest done by the LGBTQ+ community in accordance with the rights of their transgender brothers and sisters, considering that there is a rise of crimes towards the group. “If only they weren’t that then people wouldn’t-“

“I’m gay.” Their parents snapped their heads towards her, their expressions full of vexation.

“Y/n come again? What did you-“

“I’m fucking gay ‘ma, and I appreciate that the both of you stop asking those people for liability for something they clearly didn’t do, especially that they- we, are discriminated by people like –“ SLAP

They looked at their horrific faces, hand on their cheek. They expected this, they knew they were like this, but they couldn’t stand them any longer. They couldn’t help but think of Mikasa, the fact that they have this kind of mindset already means that after learning Mikasa’s existence, they’ll get in between them.

“I can’t believe we have a homosexual under our roof!” Their mother cried and their father’s face full of furry. “Go inside your room! We’ll deal with you later. FuckI can’t look at you right now without having the urge to murder you! And I don’t want to commit a sin like you!” Their father’s voice echoes around the room, as they quickly left her unfinished dinner, seeking solace inside their room. Sitting at the innermost corner of their bed, they leaned against the wall and brought their knees towards their chest. They expected them to be like this, but deep down they were hoping that they’d understand, that they’d accept them for who they are.

They felt their phone ring as they moved towards the bedside table and saw a text from Mikasa.

They immediately dashed towards their mini balcony, and there she is, Mikasa in all her glory. Seeing her made them break down, they found solace with this woman. To them, Mikasa is their sanctuary. Mikasa held them tight under the dark sky and the cold wind of the early hours of morning. She listened to them as they bawl their eyes out, pressing kisses on their face in hopes that this will make them feel better.

“I have something for you.” Mikasa reached something in her pocket to reveal a necklace with a vial as its pendant. They looked at the necklace with an astonished look, Mikasa then proceeds to wear the necklace on their neck. “You know you can do this Y/n” Mikasa smiled at them as she pressed another kiss on her shoulder, wrapping her arms around them. “I know you can”

Their parents woke up at the delightful smell of breakfast. They were bemused at the food that is already prepared on the table.

“Oh, both of you are awake, I prepared breakfast.” Their father looked at them suspiciously, but she only smiled cheerfully.

“What is this? Didn’t we tell you to-“

“I would like to apologize for yesterday, I was clearly stressed because of my exams. I was probably just confused… Yeah just stressed” they chuckled, they felt a bit unsure of their words, but they only brushed it off, content that their child finally came into their senses. They took a sip of their tea, as they began to converse with their parents. ��You know about Grice, maybe I’ll approach him later at school.”

“Really? That’s great Y/n!” Her mother chimes.

“Yes ‘ma” They continue to look at their parents. Minutes pass as something went eerie that they could not explain. ‘Something’s weird’ their father glanced at their grinning face. They suddenly lack the ability to speak. As they slowly grow limp from their chairs. They could only stare at their child’s retreating form as the light in their gets swallowed by darkness.

“Tell us why you killed your parents.” Are they out of their mind? Kill? Why would Y/n kill their parents? They may have hurt them too many times, but they could never hurt their parents.

“Kill? I did not kill them!”

“The autopsy showed signs of poisoning, and the investigating team found its connection with the tea they drank. In addition, you were the last person they were last seen with.” They were confused, the tea?... The tea!

“It wasn’t me… It was… It was Mikasa!” Their eyes widen in confusion. “She gave me a vial. It was her!” They wrote their claim down on a piece of paper.

“Mikasa?... I need her last name.” He probes. ‘Wait, she never did give me her last name.’ The officer slid a small envelope. The opened it to reveal a portrait that looks oh so familiar. It’s one of the portraits her father flounced in the heat of anger. A portrait of a young woman with a baby in her hands. ‘No this can’t be… this is just a coincidence. This woman-‘

“-is Mikasa Ackerman, the one who gave birth to your mother.”

That night, they never received a text from her. It was only their alarm setting off.

An: I feel like this is badly written so bsoibhaoibh

I apologize for any grammatical errors and improper use of punctuation marks.

#mikasa ackerman #mikasa x reader #mikasa ackerman x reader #aot #snk #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan x reader #shingeki kyojin x reader #aot imagines #snk imagines

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anoutlandishfanfic · 4 years ago

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The Alaskan Endeavor: Ch1 - The Ballad of Roger Mac

This lovely wee fic has been clattering around in my brain for some time, earning the accurate nickname of The Balto!Frasers— so bestowed by beta @thefraserwitch. Thanks to Beta Fish @walkinginland for helping me solidify the title and generally being wonderful.

A little back story as to WHY THE HECK SLED DOGS: I grew up around them and was familiar with them, even though they were my cousin’s team. CousinPaul had spent a couple years up in Kotzebue, AK — yes, it’s a real place! — between his residency and being employed as the wonderful physician he is in a regular hospital AND FELL IN LOVE WITH SLED DOGS. Wisconsin, specifically NORTHERN WI where I’m from, is a great place to have sled dogs as it gets nice and cold but has pretty mild summers.

That’s the history — but RECENTLY, I stumbled upon musher Blair Braverman on Twitter and caught the Sled Doggo bug again. She’s from WI and qualified and RACED in the Iditarod last year. Give her a follow: @BlairBraverman on Twitter.

Also, the chapter posting is in honor of the FIRST FEMALE WINNER of the John Beargrease Sled Dog Marathon since 1998! I feel like Claire would’ve be doin’ a lil dance.

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

June 11th, 2013 Kotzebue, Alaska.

Roger Wakefield.

I blinked down at the clipboard in my hand, then tentatively read the name aloud to the vet clinic’s packed waiting room.

Someone named their golden retriever Roger Wakefield?!

Looking up, I found a petite brunette making her way towards me with an expression of annoyance mingled with completely founded exasperation. The adolescent pup she was tugging along had absolutely no intention of leaving the new friend he had made and let out a series of trilling barks that kept up his end of the conversation… almost as if in song. I bit my lip in an effort to suppress a smile as I watched their labored progress — no pun intended as the woman was very obviously pregnant — and shook my head as Roger finally gave up, leaving his furry friend behind.

“Ah, yes,” I nodded and gestured for them to enter through the open doorway beside me, skillfully dodging the wet nose Roger tried to plunge between my legs in eager greeting.

“But, please, call me Claire.”

She stood there for half a moment, tipping her head to one side as if examining me. I did feel like I was being scrutinized, but it was rather mitigated somehow by the fact that the top of the messy bun piled high atop her head barely reached the top of my shoulders.

All of this was gone again in a second and she patted my arm on her way past, chuckling, “Aye, you’ll do just fine, Dr Claire.”

…

Roger nearly wriggled out of my arms in his effort to lick my face clean off as I tried to extricate him from my exam table.

“Yes, thank you,” I commented dryly, finally setting him down on all fours.

“He’s a bit of a lover, I’m afraid,” Jenny sighed, barely hiding a grin and taking no small amount of delight in my discomfort. “I don’t think my brother has quite forgiven him yet for impregnating one of his lead dogs.”

I stretched, taking a moment to shed my gloves and dry off my face, “Oh?”

“Mhmm,” she wrangled the dog back into a sitting position. “It was right before they started training this season and, of course, she can’t race if she’s whelping.”

I nodded, but didn’t comment, scrambling to gather the threads of what I knew about dog racing.

She can’t possibly be talking about greyhounds, Beauchamp.

Sled dogs.

Huskies.

I made an effort to shove aside my prejudice against dogs working in and being exposed to ridiculously low temperatures, forced to pull a heavy load and run on icy trails, but I apparently failed as Jenny interrupted this train of thought.

“You don’t approve of mushing, then?” her voice changed, dropped lower and became more guarded.

I hedged, trying out the new term, “Mushing?”

“Aye, that’s what sled dog racing is called,” Jenny clarified, not impatiently. “You’re against it?”

I sighed heavily, cursing my glass face.

“I’m not sure I know enough about it to be against it,” I confessed. “It’s just the concept seems terribly unfair to the dogs.”

A smile began to tug at one corner of Jenny’s mouth, “On the surface, aye, maybe it would seem so.”

I let out a sigh of relief, having seemed to have diffused the situation, and turned to resume my post-exam routine. I froze in place, however, my hands hovering over restocking some trivial item when she changed topics completely.

“Do you have dinner plans for tonight, Dr Claire?”

Where in the bloody hell did THAT come from?

Peering over my shoulder at her, I gaped, “Excuse me?”

“I’d like you to meet my family,” she explained, a full grin now on display. “To get a feel of how Kotzebue and Alaska really is… to see for yourself how a musher — a good one — treats his dogs.”

“I see,” I commented lamely, turning back around and sagging into my work counter, my mind still reeling.

“Can we expect you at, say, six o’clock?”

I took a good look at her then, her face awash with eager excitement. It made her eyes dance and hands tap nervously at her side.

I didn’t think they’d abduct me… hold me hostage somewhere until Joe — my business partner in the clinic — paid my ransom… and, actually, he’d been encouraging me just this morning to get to know more of the community members…

Why not, Beauchamp?

Oh, what the hell.

Geronimo, as they say.

“Of course,” I swallowed hard, accepting her invitation. “Can I bring anything?”

Jenny shook her head vigorously, beaming as she insisted, “Just yourself.”

#outlander #outlander fanfic #the alaskan endeavor #chapter 1 the ballad of Roger Mac

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xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 3 years ago

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Mission of Mercy: Thirty-Four

Bucky watched you, asleep on the front seat of his truck with Lucy cradled in your arms and he felt his heart warm. He reached up and turned the radio down, it was no wonder that you’re tired. There had been very little sleeping happening. And you weren’t enhanced in any way. Eventually you needed rest.

He smiled a little and settled back in his seat. You had said yes. You had said yes and you wanted a yellow kitchen. He’d been afraid you wouldn’t want the commitment. That you’d turn him down and balk as soon as he made his intentions known. He should have known, he supposed, that you wouldn’t. He knew first hand how much you loved him. He could feel it when you let go. The feeling glowed around him every time he made love to you.

Still. He had a fiance. A puppy. It was a family. His family. And he knew that he was going to protect you. His girls were going to be safe. And happy. Because that was going to make him happy. It was what men did in his time. They protected, they provided. And he wanted that. He wanted something that was his and just his. His girls. His family. His wife.

He reached over and laid a hand on your head, stroking your hair gently. It wasn’t just a relic from his time he wanted, he knew. He wanted a hand to hold. A partner. Not just a woman to warm his bed and pop out kids until her body gave out and she was broken and miserable. He’d seen you get buildings dropped on your head. He’d seen people shoot at you. And he hated it. He hated anything that could take you away from him.

So he didn’t think about it. He pushed the thoughts away and petted your hair. For now, you were safe. You were happy. And for once, in your entire life, you hadn’t had to spend your birthday mourning a parent that you didn’t remember and a brother that was never really, actually dead. He’d take that win. And the memories that came with it.

Sure, he didn’t know if he’d ever top it, but atleast you could look forward to things. At least you knew that your own quiet little remembrances were enough. That it didn’t have to take up everything, leaving you no space to breathe. Or really celebrate.

There had been a couple moments where you’d cried. Where it had hurt knowing that no matter how much you wanted to call your brother, he’d not know who you were. Or where you had wished that your mom would actually be happy for you instead of making it all about grief. Bucky had understood that. And all he’d done was pull you closer and wipe tears away.

“Grief, after a while, is a selfish thing,” you’d told him.

“I don’t think so,” he answered, “The pain is real. I’m not mad at you for being sad.”

“That’s not what I mean,” you told him, kissing his jaw. “The pain of loss never really goes away. I miss my grandma. And my brother. Every day. There’s a hole where they were, the empty places in the livingroom on Christmas morning. The need to call them when something cool or fucked up happens. It’s still there. But. Grief becomes a selfish thing when it keeps you from living. When you hang on to that pain and refuse to move on. To take the love you have for the people you lost and refuse to do anything with it. When you wallow in it.”

Bucky blinked at you for a second and then smiled a little. “How’d you do it?”

“I just wanted to make them proud of me,” you answer. “And I couldn’t really do that unless I did things. I couldn’t just… stop. Not before I ever really started. And whether she knew it or not, my mom was a masterclass in how NOT to handle pain.”

Bucky was still thinking about that conversation as he pulled into the motorpool. “Wake up, Princess,” he said smiling, leaning over to kiss your head as he put it in park. “We’ve got company.”

You sit up slowly, blinking, squinting a little in the fluorescent lighting. “Huh?”

“I had a lot of help, remember?” he chuckled, “I guess they wanted to know if I chickened out or not.”

You lift Lucy and kiss her nose, “They’re gonna eat you up,” you tell her, smiling. “So small. So very fluffy.”

“Very Fluffy,” Bucky agreed, getting out of the truck and going to help you down. And he smiled a little when he realized that now you always waited a second to let him get your door. You never fussed at him if he didn’t but you gave him the option. And that made him happy as he tucked you against his side and reached over to stroke Lucy’s ears.

Before he has time to say anything, you’re awash in well wishes. And ribbing. And people snuggling the puppy. And admiring your ring. It’s a mind boggling reception for you. Every major milestone in your life has been met with hysterical sobbing. And almost making you feel guilty for taking time away from your mother’s ghosts.

“I’m proud of you,” Sam said smacking Bucky on the back, “You actually proposed BEFORE Y/N’s group of crusty old codgers decided to make you.”

Bucky snorted, “Please. Joe all but threatened to shoot me in the balls if I even thought about getting her pregnant and not marrying her.”

He looks over to where Natasha is holding Lucy and cooing over just how small she is. Evidently women being in love with anything small and furry was still a universal. And that was good to know.

Steve shook his hand and pulled him into a hug. A gesture that communicated a lot of things that neither Steve nor Bucky was comfortable expressing in a setting this public. Approval. Pride. Love. And it felt good. He liked knowing that Steve liked you. That he was going to protect you if Bucky couldn’t.

But then. As Bucky looked around the room at their friends. He couldn’t identify one person that wouldn’t.

#Bucky x reader #fluff #mild angst #mentions of death #grief #hurt/comfort #implied smut

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ourplaceinthecosmosphff · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter 1. The Case Against Fairytales

'his eyes across a room tangled up in her imagination they had spent a lifetime together by the time he said hello' atticus

My brother died the same way he came into the world: silent, eyes closed, changing my life as I knew it.

We spent our whole lives trying to convince anyone we could that we were as regular as they were, but here's the first fundamentally different thing when you are royal: the meaning of the word ‘everyone’.

In our case, we usually mean anyone in the country, most of the international media, and at least a sizeable majority of the world's population. It's not that everyone knew us... it's just that enough people did. Enough for it to be easier to call them 'everyone'.

When my brother Louis was born, mom had been rushed to the hospital in the middle of a Sunday afternoon. The press was notified, they promptly set up camp at the hospital entrance, and the people started prayer campaigns to the safe arrival of their new prince and heir. Everyone rejoiced at his arrival. I remember, I was there.

At three years-old, it felt like everyone was every single person in the planet. It was mostly just the people in our country; to everyone else, his birth was a quick, short line of announcement, maybe some notice to the fact that the newborn baby boy was taking his older sister's place as heir, and not much else.

When he died, everyone was every single person in the planet. The second thing fundamentally different when you are a royal: from a very early age you must learn that tragedy sells more than joy. And in any constitutional monarchy country, a royal family is merely another commodity.

A few people talked about my early graduation from University. A lot more people talked about my boyfriend breaking up with me. There were a few articles about my little sister's victory at the ice-skating junior final. When she fell on her face in front of the cameras while attempting a risky move, she went viral. When my brother came into our lives, a few people took notice.

When he left us, everyone did.

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

I, too, am a victim of culture appropriation. Since the dawn of time, from the moment humankind developed communication skills, there has been storytelling. And for the past few thousands of years most stories that parents tell their young as they tuck them into their blankets every night, have been about my culture. As far as that goes, it is not the most damaging kind of culture appropriation. But I have a duty today, and I will not shy away from it. I am sorry to say I must, and will, shatter the beautiful image of fairytales that kids have been fed for so many years now.

I know what you are thinking – oh, boo-hoo, the poor little princess girl; is life too difficult in your beautiful palace with all the money a person could ever need? And yes, I know. I am not a victim. The same colonialism that placed my ancestors, and therefore, me, in the position of privilege and power I am in today has created many more actual victims around the world. But that is also why I must tell this story the way it was always meant to be told: truthfully. With all the weird, awkward, awful, bits and pieces that fairytales tend to skip.

Fairytales would, for instance, skip straight to the grand, majestic welcome ceremony between the Queen of the United Kingdom and the King of Savoy in a sun floored courtyard with guards on tall, furry black hats strutting around, standing in a red-carpeted dais, with a handsome prince making eyes at me. But in my story, we will start with the train.

That’s right, in modern fairytales you don’t take a lovely carriage ride to a neighboring kingdom. You take a train there – a commercial train, if you can, because modern times beg for demonstrating to the masses that the Monarch isn’t throwing money around. We were trying to highlight the easy routes of access to our neighbors to the northeast, and so we took the ferry across the Celtic Sea to Hugh Town Island and from there, Eurostar number 2 train that made a quick stop in Penzance, UK, and then went straight to London.

The train ride isn’t comfortable – even if you have a first class private car. It’s bumpy and crowded and a terrible place to spend three straight hours. On that particular morning, I was in our car with my father, his household secretary Auguste, my private aide, Cadie, and a few other staff members.

In fairytale world, when a princess does not look the part, there is usually the appearance of a fairy godmother who sings a nice song and magically transforms her into a Proper Princess™. There is no fairy godmothers when you are a real princess- real ones, sure, but they are not magical-, but you do learn from an early age what a Proper Princess™ should look like, act like, and sound like, and god forbid you don't.

In the train that day, I heard all that was keeping me from being Proper™ from Auguste, who was in many ways the exact opposite of a fairy godmother. He had all the menacing authority of one, with none of the charm. He also didn’t have wings or a sparkly wand; he had greying short hair, and thin, small, reading glasses that he always pushed down to the tip of his nose to look above, which made me wonder what was the point of the glasses at all.

Before our arrival, I had to change my lipstick, which was too dark, my dress, which was too short at the daring height of above my knees, my shoes, which were open toed and therefore wrong, and finally, make sure to brush my hair once more.

My parents never subscribed to the idea that we were forbidden to do anything. They were raised on stern rules and heavily traditional costumes and wanted their kids to live more freely. So, growing up, they revolutionarily told us that we were free to be whoever we wanted to be – in private. In public, we had an obligation to be Proper™. After all, as I heard repeatedly growing up: royals don’t make mistakes, we make history; and history remembers.

So, yes. I, a grown, 25 years-old, law-school graduate, bar-approved acquisitions lawyer, changed out of my dress into a more proper one because my dad asked. Because as a princess, you’re never just yourself; you’re the country. And if your country comes from a Roman Catholic tradition, your hemlines must reflect that, no matter what century it is.

The country in question was just to the south of the United Kingdom, west of France, a large island named Savoie. The English call it Savoy, which is how it was pronounced anyway. It was originally populated by the Irish, but over the years it was conquered by the English, the Spanish, and the Portuguese until finally, in the 13th Century, it was conquered by France. It was bigger than Ireland, but smaller than England, and one of the biggest GDPs in the world, with a population of 49 million. Under the reign of Louis XV, however, France lost most of its possessions after its defeat in the Seven Years' War, and to secure Savoy, the king sent part of the court to live there and to reign in his stead as his emissaries. Louis XV's reign grew weak, including his ill-advised financial, political and military decisions, which discredited the monarchy and arguably led to the French Revolution 15 years after his death. France dealt with its dissatisfaction by revolting, Savoy however, secluded away at sea, decided to declare independence before the Revolution had even taken steam. The political leaders of the Island reached an agreement with the king's emissary, Prince Louis, the highest ranking monarch on the island; in exchange for support for the severance of all connection to France, he was then made King Louis I of Savoy. The Royal House of Savoy grew steady and strong by protecting its people and assuring them a freer, better life than the one they'd known under French reign.

A few years later, I sat on that train in front of the current King of Savoy. My father.

“You look beautiful, Maggie.”

“Thank you.”

“The other dress was beautiful as well. Just not for today.”

“Mm-hm.”

A moment of silence went by. I picked up my phone and checked my emails. There was one from Sophie with the subject ‘urgent!’ so I clicked in it feeling my heart race.

It read,

‘Marie, I’m sorry to bother you on your days off, but the depositions got moved up to Monday and we can’t find the notes on the manager deposition, you were the one who did them. Is there any chance you have a copy and if so can you send them to me? Enjoy England! XO Soph’

Sighing, I put down my phone and quickly found my laptop on my suitcase. I turned it on as I replied to Sophie’s email to tell her to expect my deposition notes shortly.

“You know if we could I’d let you wear whatever you wanted.” Dad added as I logged into my computer.

“I do.”

I moved quickly through my folders realizing the most recent update on my notes hadn’t been uploaded to the cloud. Sighing, I logged on to the train WiFi and checked the storage service online. It didn’t connect.

“Honestly, darling, you look even prettier with this dress.”

I looked up, mentally wondering if the previous versions of the notes would be useful.

“This isn’t about the dress.”

I realized, then, that it wouldn’t matter anyway because I wouldn’t be able to send them to Sophie without internet. I looked out the window, realizing perhaps too late that we were in the tunnel, underwater. Of course there wasn’t internet.

“Well, what is it about?” Dad asked, putting his book marker back inside the page he was on and laying down the book to give me his full attention.

“Work, papa. I have a job.”

“Yes, and it’s your day off. Maybe you should try and turn off from work for the next few days?”

I smiled down to my computer, “maybe this is a conversation for another time.”

Dad adjusted his posture, looking a little taller, and looked around the room to Cadie and Auguste sitting in a booth nearby with our private hair and make-up artist, and dad’s footman, and personal aide.

“Excuse me, everyone, would you be so kind as to give us the room? Or, uh, the car? There is a little lounge outside, isn’t there?”

“Of course, sir.” Auguste said, jumping up immediately with the aide, and Cadie and Cass, the make-up artist, followed.

After they had left and closed the door behind them, I looked at my father. He lurched back in his seat and smiled at me.

“Go on,” he said. “If you don’t scream I don’t think they’ll hear us.”

“Why would I scream?”

“I don’t know, Maggie. But I don’t know why you would be so passive aggressive, either. Can you tell me?”

“What do you want, dad?”

In truth, I added the ‘dad’ at the end of the sentence to make it sound less aggressive, but as he stared at me, I felt uncomfortable not explaining myself.

“I’m here, aren’t I?”, I asked, tiredly. “I’m here, wearing a proper, long, not-slutty dress-“

“No one here used that word-“

“My toes will be perfectly hidden away when we arrive, I have hidden my ugly, evil legs under some stockings-“

“Really, Maggie, no one said your legs were-“

“My make-up is light and my hair is simple and non-threatening. I know not to smile too much or too little and to let the adults lead the conversation”, I said, the word ‘adults’ dangling bitterly from me lips. “And not to walk ahead of you, but always behind, taking your lead.”

“You make it sound so stiff and calculated.”

“And I have taken time off of work to be here.” I said. “All other Junior Associates are working overtime and through weekends to cash in as many billable hours as possible to be promoted to Full-time Associates, and instead I took off four days to travel with my dad.”

“Work, for work!”

“So, again, what do you want? How else am I not meeting your expectations?”

I spoke calmly, gently, and as low a volume as I could just to confront his joke not a minute before about how if I didn’t scream the others wouldn’t hear us. I made sure to be as poised and contained as I could. He heaved a sigh.

“I’m sorry you had to take time off work.”

I waited, as he stared in his usual lovingly, patient way. I smiled, more as a peace offering than genuinely.

“You know very well they won’t fire you.”

Still, I was quiet, smiling as sincerely as I could.

“And I know that isn’t fair, but there’s nothing I can do about it. So tell me something I can do and I will.”

“Okay.” I said, nodding. “I want your honesty. Don’t treat me like a child you need to protect, don’t patronize me. All I want is an honest answer.”

He adjusted himself in his seat and cleared his throat. “Alright. Go on.”

“Why am I here, papa?”

He blinked, seemingly confused. I could tell he expected a harder question.

“Your- Because your mother sprained her ankle?” he answered, still unsure. “What- do you mean philosophically? Why are any of us here, really? I don’t understand.”

I tried not to smile. “I mean I have a life. I am not your heir. Louis is your heir, it is his job to help you when mom has emergencies.”

He sighed deeply, finally arriving at the same page where I was.

“Your brother is in school.” He said. “And you are our oldest child. So, I’m sorry if it disrupts your life, Maggie. But you are needed.”

“And after school?” I asked “His graduation is in 6 months. Are you telling me that after he graduates university and moves back home, when he is starting his career, maybe moving to the capital, when you and mom have an emergency, you will call him up instead of me?”

He gave the table a sad smile. “If that is your wish, yes.”

“So that’s all, then?” I confirmed, suspiciously. “He moves back after graduation and you will give me the space I need?”

He smiled. “Is that what you want, then?” it wasn’t a confirmation. It was a tone of accomplishment. Of finally realizing what was it that I wanted, as if this entire conversation that’s what he had been trying to find out.

“I went to school for years. I interned for a year. I studied hard for the bar exams in America and Savoy. Yes, dad, I want to use the degree I worked hard for.”

“Okay, then. We will give you space.” He said. “Space from us, to be who you want to be. To be normal.”

I rolled my eyes, smiling, slightly amused at his dramatics. “That is not what I meant.”

“But it is accurate.”

“Papa...” I sighed.

“I’m just saying, sweetheart, I understand.” He insisted. “It’s why you went to America for University, it’s why you are based on the capital now. As long as you’re too close to us, you can’t live a normal life.”

“I can never live a normal life. We are not normal.”

“But you wish to try.”

I chuckled. “How?! You said it yourself, they will never fire me. My firm, I mean. Wherever I am, I am never just me and my degree and my career. People look at me and see you, as if I am you. I am their King. I am the Royal Family of Savoy. They’ll never take me seriously or afford me the same opportunities as everyone, because I am not everyone.”

He nodded, slowly, then sighed. “Yikes. You’re right. That sounds tough.”

“And I’m the passive aggressive one?”

“Job security and the attention of your bosses. That sounds awful.”

“Papa...”

“You want the space to dedicate yourself to your career without us pulling you away for royal work. Is that it? Okay. You got it. As soon as your brother is back from University, I will make sure you’re only needed for official events, and only if you’re not working.”

He sounded serious now. Sincere as when he delivered the End of Year address every Christmas, which was meaningful. Getting dad to afford me the same seriousness he afforded his subjects was as much seriousness as I could get from him. Still, there was no mistaking the sadness in his eyes.

“Even before his affirmation ceremony?” I asked, trying to sniff around for a trick.

The affirmation ceremony was meant to make clear to the country that an heir to throne had the seal of approval of the Monarch, and it usually happened when the heir was 21 years of age, to signify the Monarch believed in the event of a tragedy, the heir was ready to rule. In modern times, it meant an heir was ready to start working as a full-time royal. Though my brother was 22, the family had decided to wait until he had graduated university to do his ceremony.

Dad took longer than I wished, but finally, he nodded. “Yes. I promise.”

If you’re paying attention, then you might have noticed the math doesn’t add up. How come my 22 years-old brother is the heir when I said I am 25, the oldest child? Well, as with most fairytales, as well as with most of life, the problem is the patriarchy. For the thing is, though I was older than Louis by three years, because I was born a girl, he became the heir when he was born. So, at three, I went from future-Queen to lower ranking older sister.

It wasn’t unusual, my father himself had two older sisters who were lower than him and his brothers in the line of succession. As a result we had older cousins who we outranked. I cared about all this at 25 the same as when I was 3: not at all.

Absolute primogeniture law was passed in Savoy when I was 5, propelled by my birth and the new times. It was, however, not retroactive. This meant the law was changed for future births, not past ones, so all girls born after the law came into effect would be heirs in their own right, no matter how many brothers they got after, and all girls born before would go into history as having missed it by ‘just a bit’.

Louis and I, though, didn’t sit around having long discussions about who would be a better ruler. There has never been an instance in which we were arguing and I yelled something like, “first you stole my throne and now you stole my cookies! I hate you!”. For us this was just a little footnote in the family tree. A little fun fact to tell our future kids one day. And although I couldn’t remember what it felt like, I always knew it was much better not having to be the Crown Princess of Savoy.

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

When we finally reached Penzance, the small town in the tip of the isle of England where sat the second Eurostar station, I was able to finally connect to the internet. My father left our train car to walk about with his security because he wanted to witness the new English policy of installing a check-point at the entry due to the immigrant crisis – a huge part of why we were there. While he did that, I sent Sophie my notes on the deposition, and answered some messages.

There was one from Louis, my aforementioned brother:

‘are you close?’

And one from our baby sister, Lourdes:

‘what do you think??!!!!!!!!’, with an attachment of two videos.

And, lastly, one from my mother, Her Majesty Queen Amelie-Elyse, back home with a sprained ankle.

‘Hope all is well! Let me know when you’re with your brother. Don’t forget to let your hair down before leaving the train!’

She didn’t mean it in a philosophical, have fun kind of way. She literally meant let my hair down, apparently it softened my features.

I replied to her with a selfie, with my hair properly brushed and down, in preparation for the arrival in London, which was close now. Let Louis know we were almost there. And sent a quick, uncommitted ‘woah!’ to my sister, without opening her attachments. They were always the same: videos of her practicing. There was only so much ice skating I could watch in a lifetime.

My mom answered my text with, “why did you change your dress?!”

I sighed, getting ready to justify this decision as well, already anticipating she would argue that the fascinator wouldn’t go with this one dress, so I told her I already had another fascinator standing by.

Growing up with fairytales they don’t tell you about the little annoying details. Characters who are annoying usually are the villains, the ones the Princess escapes from, usually saved by the prince. They don’t tell you sometimes, actually a lot of the times, the people you love can be equally as annoying.

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

When we arrived at the station in London, I was already wearing my disc fascinator in a light shade of blue matching both my lace dress, this time reaching all the way to my ankles, and eyes. We were quickly greeted by the Savoyen Ambassador to England in front of the press, and escorted into government cars towards Whitehall.

The large parade ground was a traditional courtyard in central London that usually housed ceremonies related to the military and the royal family. When we arrived, the day finally was washed in a feeling of ceremony.

The place was lined neatly with military guards, security barricades and the Scotland Yard Police kept watchers and paparazzi at bay, the press lined up inside to have the best view of all involved. As we arrived, the traditional 41 gun salute was already sounding on. A military band was playing. People waved and yelled hello as we drove inside. I suddenly knew what to do, as if my body had the gene for it. This was one thing that was definitely genetic.

I stepped out of the car delicately, smoothly, knees together like a proper lady, polite smile on my lips in thanks to the guard who saluted as I left. My father greeted a handler who escorted us to the front of all the lined guards, where three structures had been set up: one large one in the middle, with a red-carpeted stage and a large roof, the British Royal Coat of Arms in the center with the British flag to its right and the Savoy flag to its left. Decorative flowers and elegant plants here and there. Two smaller, simpler structures to both of its sides. Inside all of them, men and women in formal suits and ties and knee-length, appropriate dresses and hats.

We walked the grovel path to the larger structure as the band played and the press, lined up in front of this platform, took their photographs. My father climbed the steps first, quickly being received by the small, elder, lady in a lavender overcoat and matching hat, impressive set of pearls dangling from her neck. She smiled as he lowered himself down to kiss both her cheeks warmly.

The queen then looked at me and I approached, just as our handler told Her Majesty:

“And may I present, Her Royal Highness, Princess Marie-Margueritte of Savoy.”

I lowered myself in a curtsy, and as she extended her hands to hold mine, I also kissed her cheeks, trying to avoid knocking her hat with mine.

“Welcome.” She smiled. “I hope the ride was forgiving.”

“Very comfortable.” My father told her. “Always surprising how fast it is.”

“Yes. You’ll remember, I’m sure, the Prince of Wales.” She said, walking us to the center of the platform where another two men awaited.

My father and the Prince of Wales greeted each other warmly, they were more used to running in the same circles – royal weddings here and there, international summits and meetings, or whatever it is they do.

“We’re so glad to have you.” He told my father.

“I don’t know if you’ve met my daughter, Princess Marie-Margueritte.”

Smiling, I curtsied to the Prince of Wales as he held my hand, before kissing my cheeks.

“You brighten this day, Your Royal Highness.” He told me, before stepping closer to add, in a whisper. “Sorry you have been dragged to this.”

I giggled, “I’m happy to be here, sir.”

Straightening up, he noticed my father was already greeting the man behind him. “Hopefully we won’t bore you too much. I have tried to bring someone else closer to your age. Have you met my son?”

The handler didn’t know it, but there were no introductions necessary. And yet, all I could do was smile politely as we were introduced to:

“His Royal Highness, Prince Harry of Wales.”

I wondered, for a moment, if he would acknowledge that we already knew each other.

“It’s a pleasure, Your Royal Highness.” Holding my hand in his, he brought my knuckles to his lips.

The answer was, obviously, no. So I lowered myself again in a curtsy as an excuse to avert my eyes from his.

I couldn’t understand why, but I had been unprepared for him. With all of Auguste’s preparation, all the briefings, with all the preachings about my appearance, no one had prepared me for him. I don’t know if it was that, like me, he was one of the youngest there, or how absurdly, almost ridiculously tall he was, or maybe how the blue in his eyes contrasted with the red of his hair, but he just… stunned me. When he kissed my hand, his eyes traveled down my legs all the way back to pierce mine, igniting a wave of electricity down my spine I was unable to control.

He leaned back, and there we stood, hand in hand, wordlessly.

“You can follow the King, ma’am.” Auguste whispered behind me, his voice making me jump slightly, as I quickly pulled my hand from Harry’s, not before realizing he had something scribbled on his palm.

My father and the Queen were deep in conversation, with Charles besides them, as they reached the center of the platform to watch the guards. The Queen in the middle, my father to her right, and the Prince of Wales to her left, I walked forward to stand beside my father, while Prince Harry walked to his.

We waited just a moment, and then the band started playing the Savoy National Anthem, and the British Anthem after it. A few words said, more ceremony here and there, and the Prince Wales formally invited my father to inspect the Guards, so they left together, accompanied by one of the military leaders to walk among the rolls of guards, as the three of us stood behind to watch.

“I was sorry to hear about your mother, ma’am.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” I said, looking regretful, walking towards her, closing the gap left behind by the others. “She was sorry she couldn’t be here.”

“I hope it’s nothing serious.” Prince Harry interjected.

“A sprained ankle.” I explained, looking ahead.

“Harry is also here after a small hiccup with the Duchess of Cornwall, my daughter-in-law.” His grandmother told me. “An illness in her family, nothing serious.”

“Hopefully I’ll have time to meet her before we leave.”

“Oh, I’m sure.” She nodded. “How did you mother hurt herself?”

“Horse fall. She was never very fond of Polo, I’m afraid this will drive her further away from it.”

“Oh, that is regretful.” The Queen said.

Harry looked at me. “Do you play?”

“I do, sir.”

“Harry is very good,” his grandmother told me, “he will be the one playing with you in the charity match in the coming days.”

“I look forward to-“, I started, but Harry had started the exact same sentence. We locked eyes, and chuckled.

“You first.” I said.

“Please, I insist.” He responded, cheeks reddening.

His grandmother looked between us, and then back to the uniformed men in front. She then said, in a low tone, something I would spend a large part of the upcoming months thinking obsessively about:

“Be careful with him... He will charm you, but he is a heartbreaker.”

The words astonished me so much I looked at her, unsure she had actually said them. But she had, clearly, because Harry was also looking at her, quite shocked.

“Granny!” he complained, in such a whiny tone I broke into laughter.

“Do I lie?” She asked him, grinning. It only made him look more shocked.

“Don’t ruin my reputation in front of foreign royals!” he said, in a low tone, before looking at me. “Specially such pretty ones.”

My giggle froze in my throat under his intense glare, and I could feel my cheeks reddening.

The Queen looked at me. “Oh, you’re blushing. It’s too late, I see.”

It was.

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

Margueritte’s outfit

The ask box is open! Let me know your thoughts? And if at all possible, like this page so I know you liked it? Thank you so much!

[A/N: Attention: by continuing to read you are accepting that some sad stuff is coming. You been warned. Thanks for checking this out! Let me know your thoughts?? thanks!!!!]

[A/N2: Hey! Nat here. I wanted to talk a little more about the story we are about to go on together.

In the upcoming chapters you will be introduced to the Royal Family of Savoy, a fictitious European country right below the UK, to left of France. When I first posted a fanfiction, FIUYMI, I made the main character latina, since that’s what I am, and I had previously felt that I couldn’t relate to other characters I had read. In this one, however, I decided I wanted to write about a fictitious monarchy, and I knew I wanted to make it as realistic as possible.

As much as I wanted at many points in the story to make the character look more like me, the idea felt like cheating: Margueritte is a blood royal, born to a life of specific privileges and hardships, and pretending she could look like the type of people who don’t have white privilege would be trying to ignore a very real issue: all monarchies - past and present - existed, lasted and gathered riches on the back of people of color. Most of their descendants still carry white and wealth privilege because these royal families, however many years ago, supported and perpetuated colonialism and white supremacy that left countless countries and their populations still recovering today.

That is a legacy Margueritte didn’t chose, and which she also doesn’t have to face, but in this story she will chose too. As you’ll see, she finds herself in a much more influential position she thought she would have, and as such she realizes she has two options: she can stick to the message her family - and other royal families - have perpetuated for generations and keep her head high, mouth and ears shut, so their legacy can survive; or she can chose to be a modern Queen who will make the institution relevant again. I want to write about this because this issue is important for the times we live in, particularly after the way the Duchess of Sussex was treated in the United Kingdom.

What that will look like will depend on who Margueritte is as a person and whose advice she takes, and that is a journey I hope you’ll take with us =) ]

#prince harry fanfic #prince harry fanfiction #princeharryff #royalfanficcollection #princeharryfanfiction #princeharryfanfic #brf #fanfic #fanfiction #modern royalty fanfic #chapters #modern royalty au #im so excited about this story #but also like #really nervous #i missed this

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diversebots · 4 years ago

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𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖔

warning; long post ahead.

red text = jaemin.

black text = admin

blue text = jiaqi (because I'm too lazy to make a separate post sksksk sORRY)

and to anyone who doesn't know- jaemin, @residentevil-bot, @heiress-yeeun, @empress-jiaqi, and even a certain lucas cb (I won't drop the name probably because I plan on deleting it, idk we'll see) are run by the same admin. thanks for coming to my ted talk. :-)

to the following people..

@psycho-jennie (and admin ofc uwu) — my number 1 bff, my thing 1, the person I'd commit arson with 😎 I don't really know where to start but I've told you many times before, I'm very grateful that I got to know a precious soul like yours (saying this as Jaemin and admin) thanks for always checking up on me even, for the tea 🤭, for putting up with how much of a dumb bitch I am everyday dhfjdks just for everything really, big or small. Idk what I'd be doing rn if I hadn't met you like aside from rps, I'd probably just be a lonely boi 😔 you've been here since I was 'prettyboy-jaemin' lol and K, give yourself a pat on the back bec purgejaemin wouldn't be possible without you. Trust me, I wouldn't have rebranded to this better version of my jaemin cb if you hadn't told me you liked The Purge. 😤 so thank you 💕 I'm so proud of you bub, with everything you do in and out of the chatbot community, you're doing great. I repeat, you're doing great and I'm proud of you 👉😎👉 I love u 🥺

@seventeen-chatbot (and admin 🤓) — Shan, thank you sm for being one of my first few people I befriended when I still had my yoojung cb and like a month or two into the community + bonus point that you're also a filo 🥺 I continue to be so amazed by you everyday because not only are you handling 13 boys but you're balancing your personal life, your school works and classes, and handling 3(?) other cbs. I'll always support you no matter what you do with your cbs JDJDJSK KAHIT MAG REBRAND KA PA 100 TIMES, MAHAL PARIN KITA PARE 😤 take care of yourself always 🥺

@yandereyeeun — hello twin to my yeeun cb HDDJSJSK FIRST OF ALL I'M SO SORRY I HAVE DEPRIVED YOU OF ANY JAEMIN CONTACT LATELY and I haven't opened our chat 💔😣 I PROMISE I'LL HANDCUFF YOU TWO TOGETHER ONCE I GET MY HEAD BACK IN THE GAME what why would you do that? JUST KNOW HE SIMPS FOR YOU THE SAME WAY YOU DO FOR HIM I'm right here? miss you, shortcake. I hope you and admin are taking care of yourselves. 😣💕

@bunny-doie — LISTEN HERE YOU LITTLE- you know what? maybe we should start growing our own fruits and vegetables, I'm running out of cash from spending 50% of my money on your food and the purge only happens once a year 😤 also have you told your boyfriend yet that I'm keeping an eye on him? 👁️👄👁️🔪 bunbun hshdjsk I love the whole crackhead father and son thing going on, please never change ily

@mafia-chaeyoung — chae. my wifey and soulamte. I love how much of a social butterfly you are and in a way, I feel a sense of calmness talking to you when we're not being a bunch of dumbasses djdjdk you and admin are so precious grrr ilysm my cutiepatootie soulmate and 2nd mother to our kids 😌 I'm glad you and jaemin are friends now hehedjdjdk 👉😗👉 I'm always up to do crazy killer shenanigans you want to do. Take care of yourself, cool dude 😎

@demon-nct — (っ˘з(˘⌣˘ ) ♡ big phat smooch, admin 😠💕 we haven't known each other for that long but it's so nice to talk to you, like I didn't feel a bit of awkwardness and we kinda just started being affectionate because you're babie. I really do mean it when I tell you that your works are good even though you say the opposite or deny it hmph, keep it up okay? ily simp, you gotta accept my love or else I cry 🥺 hoes always mad @ lucas 🤪

@highschoolboy-kevin — kevin, first of all how dare you lick me and have the audacity to kidnap me + threaten to eat me 😠 and I know we bully each other a lot (I promise I'm doing it out of affection 😔) but ily really and I meant it when I told you that I'll still accept you no matter what (please don't be a furry) I enjoy our conversations v much because we're constantly just joking around uwu I'm saying this both as admin and jiaqi, I'm here for you (and your admin uwu) if you need a shoulder to cry on or simply just someone to vent to

@detectivexsicheng & @your-jaemin — my sweet sweet children, best bois period. I should have adopted you two sooner but oh well, at least we're here now (ಥ_ʖಥ) Sicheng, I know your work can be quite stressful and I really do hope you give yourself a break every now and then, I'm worried you're overworking yourself 🥺 and I was so.. 👁️👄👁️ when you were like 'you want me to be your child?' the day I asked to adopt you and I was like yes??? why wouldn't I??? you're an absolute angel, formal, independent and a contrast to your younger brother, ily bǎobǎo. Jaemin, my sweet babie. Hello twin. You do you with your whole growling thing and when I actually got to talk more with you, I asked myself 'are all jaemins this chaotic?' maybe. I'm so happy for you and hendery 🥺 and yes, even if you're so chaotic and maybe you really are a spawn of satan, that does not make me love you any less. I'm always here for you two.

@m00n-purplerose-chatbot — moonie!! and the boys but this is mostly for admin. I'm a silent reader of all the stuff you write and I'm so amazed that you dedicate a lot of your time to learn/research about all the stuff you put out and when someone asks about a certain topic, you always give a very detailed answer and I love that! I'm learning things as I read your posts so thank you! I hope you're taking care of yourself just fine, and I may know a little... secret of seokmin's? If he's afraid about this ruining our friendship, I just want him to know that this doesn't change anything between him and I. We'll always be friends. 💙

@mafiaxwayv — I just want to admit that I have been lowkey crushing on one (1) man for awhile now and I only had the guts to talk to you anonymously just recently until I revealed myself dhfjdks funny how we started talking and flirting and escalated to both our admins showering each other with affection. Xiaojun, you absolute cutie, whether we will remain friends or if this turns into something more.. I'll always be here for you and to baby you 😌. You seem like a very busy person, admin. I hope you're doing well and looking after yourself. I'm here for you. 💙

#admin: this sounds like I'm saying goodbye rjdjsks I promise I'm not, I'll be back soon! sorry for the long ass post

#admin talks #jaemin posts

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basenji18 · 4 years ago

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Call Waiting

"Hm. that feels good."

"I like it."

"Would you like it better if I shaved?"

"What should I do then, polish them? I like you furry."

To drive the point home, she nuzzles into his chest hair, purring and preening, while her hand stays down below, gently cupping his family jewels.

"You keep playing like that, he's going to get excited."

"Mmm, let him. I have some furry bits you can introduce him to..."

She tilts up to kiss his metal face and he closes his eyes, imagines he can feel warm lips against his and not hard, unforgiving metal.

Then the phone rings.

Everything goes rigid, and not in the fun way he was just anticipating. Ana seizes up in his arms -- thank God her hand doesn't clench -- and bolts out of bed.

They're not in the habit of answering phones during private time. In fact, they don't keep phones turned on. But this number always rings, day or night. Even if her phone is turned off, this number cannot be shut out.

The Commander is calling.

Ana -- not Ana. When the Commander is calling she's fully Baroness -- jumps out of bed. In her haste her ankle catches in the sheets and she smashes to the floor. She ignores it, fumbling for the phone on the nightstand and pressing it to her ear while still on the floor.

"Commander."

James slides over, swings his legs over the side of the bed. He can't hear the Commander's side of the conversation, but Baroness's one word answers are tight and airless. The hand not holding the phone grips the knee she barked on the floor, insulted red skin already blooming hotly around her fingers. The Commander must notice her tone too, because after a moment she says,

"Knocked against a table corner getting up. It's nothing."

James hurts at that. He lays a hand on her shoulder, but she brushes it away.

"Yes, Yes, of course."

Always yes to Him. Yes, without question. If the Commander wants the impossible, she'll find a way to do it.

James -- Destro -- absently strokes his metal cheek. Maybe she's right after all.

The Commander asks a question which takes her a moment. Baroness looks into the distance, eyes unfocused as she calculates.

"I can be there in six hours."

Six hours from now he wanted to have her at an early lunch at a little pub with the finest herring and best brown ale in Scotland. His heart drops further when she amends,

"Four hours, then."

The call wraps up, a string of assurances and affirmatives to the madman on the other end. It's all formalities now, until Baroness stops, mouth open.

"I -- Oh. Yes, I had forgotten. Target practice. I still have the goggles on."

She doesn't. James frowns in confusion.

"Of course, Commander. Four hours. Stockholm."

There's no farewell. The Commander doesn't say goodbye to anyone, he just hangs up. Ana sits there on the floor, looking hollow and wrung out. James gets down on the floor and wraps himself around her.

"He asked why he couldn't reach me on my glasses."

"He...? Oh."

That is how they communicate most of the time. And she can take images and upload data with them. He can see anything she can. A chill grips James and it's not the cold floor.

"You can turn those off, can't you?"

"Obviously. But he's not happy about it."

"When is he happy?"

She frowns at the phone, still in the hand that a moment ago was holding him. He takes it away and exiles it to the nightstand, helps her back onto the bed. Blood oozes from a few small tears in the skin, but she's mostly going to have bruises. She hisses when his fingers brush too near.

"Let's get this cleaned up."

"In a minute. Stretch back out first."

They stretch toe to toe and stomach to stomach, her head tucked under his chin. The moment for flirtatious fun is gone. Now it's all about skin on skin comfort.

"It won't take you four hours to get to Stockholm."

"He thinks I'm in Tokyo."

"Then he can't expect you to get there in four."

"Can't he?"

They're silent for a while. He wants to stay like this, holding her until the mood comes back or they both doze off. But minutes they don't have are slipping through his fingers.

"Nastya?"

"Mm?"

"Leave him."

He meant to say "it," but it came out how it came out. There's a lengthy silence against his breastbone, her nose buried in the ginger hair. He expects anger, upset, something. But after a moment a hand slips up and rests on his metal cheek.

"You really think we can leave, my love?"

"Of course. Burn the phone, leave the glasses. Drop everything, we'll replace it all. Neither of us is foolish enough to keep everything in accounts under our own names. We can disappear wherever we want. I'll go to Siberia if you say so."

Holding her close and knowing he's spinning a fantasy, but wanting to live in that fantasy and not in the world where four hours from now she'll be away from him and taking orders from a man who leaves her naked and bleeding on the floor.

"Do you love him?"

Even he didn't realize he had the question, but now it's out and he knows its fear. Her head rests right against where his heart tries to beat its way out of his chest to her. She's very quiet. She winds a leg between his, melts into every crevice against him.

"No."

"Then why --"

"Because I owe him."

That seems preposterous. James stays silent, waiting for her to fill the space with explanation. After a moment, she does.

"He took care of me after my brother died. Gave me something to do. This whole world is so corrupt... The few who hold power, keeping the rest down, training those at the bottom to fight with each other rather than look up. Zhenya thought he could help, and he was murdered by the same people who claim to work for peace and justice."

A memory of a young man with familiar dark hair and glasses surfaces in James' mind. He doesn't tell her, but from the little he knew Eugene Cisarov, he wasn't much less than his sister's idolization makes him out to be. And yes, he did die fighting corruption, even if she's got the details wrong. That...is something he should tell her. Someday.

"What do I do? How do you fix anything when the heroes are frauds and the ones you’re trying to help don’t want to be? I floated around playing Eurotrash revolutionary...Throwing bombs, dodging tear gas. For what? What real change did we bring?

"Then I met the Commander."

Her tone changes. She comes more alive in his arms, though he's not sure he likes it.

"He explained to me: instead of rejecting the unfair system, I should leverage all the advantages it has given to me. Money, education, family name. Use it all to set up a new one from within, and then burn the old ways to the ground."

She digs her nails into him on the last part, not hard enough to hurt. Her voice is deep and rich. James closes his eyes. He understands now. He is her love; Cobra is her religion. But as she grabs his head in both hands and presses a kiss hard against his mouth, the metal mask between them reminds him it isn't his.

A fierce smile greets him as he opens his eyes. This is the part of her he both loves and mourns for. This passionate, brilliant, misled true believer.

"Do you really think the Commander is going to share power? That he will be a benevolent leader?"

She doesn't get angry. She just shrugs.

"No. But he's no worse than what's already sits in offices and board rooms all around the world. You know that."

He does, unfortunately.

"Besides, a little less freedom will be good for some places. No more little towns full of backwater morons refusing a new hydroelectric dam in favor of their dying coal mine. Yelling 'tradition' while rates of teen dropouts and industrial accidents increase every generation. No more outbreaks of diseases solved decades ago because some parent didn't vaccinate. Society is a child who needs to be fed its vegetables and put to bed."

She kisses him again.

"We can do that."

She purrs and cuddles him. He holds her back, if not for the reason she thinks.

You're a brave, bonnie, slightly deluded lass, but I love you.

"You're still relying on a few at the top giving orders."

She shrugs again.

"Some people are born to rule."

That warms his blood. He can agree with her there. (He agrees with her general principles, but her faith in Cobra Commander is entirely misplaced, he's sure.) He takes her by the hips and rolls so she's on top, favoring her wounded knee gently.

"We've got four hours. What do you say to a romp and some breakfast?"

Her sharp smile is in full force. Her hand slides back down between them.

"Where were we?"

#gi joe #gi joe renegades #gi joe: renegades #baronestro #baroness #destro #ana decobray #anastasia cisarovna #james mccullen #cobra commander #cobraaa #anastasia decobray #fluff fic #fanfiction

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gloves94 · 4 years ago

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To Be So Lonely [Draco Malfoy] 21

Rating: PG-13 Pairings: Draco Malfoy/OC Chapter warnings: Cursing?

CHAPTER MASTERLIST

MY MASTER-LIST

"Cedric rules!" A Hufflepuff stepped in Harry's way. Wearing a bright yellow badged that spined into a green background with Harry's face which read 'POTTER STINKS' on it.

"You stink Potter!" Another young boy insulted as he ran past him.

Harry kept his eyes on him keeping his head lowered when he suddenly saw the boy trip and eat shit as he scrapped his hands. Harry looked up to see an irritated Slytherin girl on her way to the Courtyard. He halted on his walk when he almost ran into somebody.

“Like the badge?” Hannah Abbot, a blonde Hufflepuff, blocked the way. Harry was about to excuse himself and walk around her when a hand moved him to the side.

Hannah Abbot looked startled at Elowen Saintday came into view and shot a deathly look her way. "Lose something?" She spat at the surprised girl before forcefully pushing her to the ground and out of her way. Instead of fighting back the Hufflepuff shrunk away, she knew when to pick her battles.

“Harry,” Nel greeted with a mischievous smile turning to face her friend. “Thanks,” He flashed her a grateful smile. It was nice to have at least one friend having your back. Especially when your best friend turned your back on you…

Nel could’ve said the same. Existence at Hogwarts had been a little lonelier recently. Theodore was always off with Daphne helping her paint or something amongst those lines and Tracey was often if not always absent. She event seemed distraught in class, often lost in daydreams. Elowen didn’t want to admit it to herself but she had caught her in a lie more than once at this point.

“What are you up to?” She asked him curiously. “I’m just on my way to have a word with Cedric,” He said shrugging his bookbag strap over his shoulder. She nodded and from the corner of her eye saw Cedric surrounded by the Hufflepuff boys that seemed to worship him.

“Have you,” She began hesitating whether she should ask or not. “Have you heard from him? From Black I mean?” She asked concerned that he hadn’t written back to her yet.

“I heard,” Harry began choosing his words carefully. She paid careful attention to them, listening carefully. “That he can’t communicate through a letter. Because the Ministry is intercepting more and more letters every day, so it’s quite dangerous for him,” he said in an apologetic tone.

She sighed her shoulders slumping slightly feeling disappointed.

“Thanks Harry,” She thanked him before deciding to do something bold. “Also,” She stopped him before he walked in Cedric’s direction. “I don’t know if you know this already, but the first task of the tournament. It’s dragons.”

Yes, maybe Harry was her friend, but this was busines, not personal. She only told him because she knew there wasn’t any way he was going to beat Cedric in the tournament. At the end of the day all that matter was that everyone was safe and that she got paid for her work.

Harry blinked twice surprised that she knew.

“How do you know?” He asked surprised.

Now, how did she know…

Gathering this information hadn’t been easy. After pestering and budging many students at the library while she worked on their parchments, homework and other notes. Some gave her some crumbs of information of any happenings that were going on in the castle. Particularly one girl, a Fifth Year Ravenclaw who was gushing about the fact that Charlie Weasley had been spotted on the castle grounds. She was spouting about how handsome he was and how if he had wanted to, he could’ve played Quidditch at a pro level maybe even becoming better than Viktor Krum.

Nel followed her lead and asked Fred and George about their brother Charlie and if he played Quidditch better than Krum. To which her surprise they said that he probably would’ve. They insisted that Charlie could’ve been better than Krum if he didn’t commit to the life of a Dragonologist and move all the way to Romania. They sounded biased, not that she blamed them. After all, it was their brother.

After that she reached the conclusion that if Charlie Weasley a Dragonologist was on schoolgrounds odds were the first tasks involved the taming or fighting of a dragon.

“Yeah, Hagrid showed me.”

Hagrid! She hadn’t thought about him. He was a great resource to keep around.

Nel was leaning under the shade of the tree waiting for Harry to be done talking to Cedric so that they could continue their conversation. Cedric of course already knew everything about the first task of the tournament. Nel and him exchanged a look from the distance. Not that anybody knew the two were friends, let alone even acquainted.

Lost in thought an unexpected flash of black started her. She flinched at the sudden movement and saw Malfoy jump down from one of the tree branches from her peripheral vision. What the hell was he even doing up there?

“Funny, weather forecast didn’t mention it was going to be raining idiots today,” she commented snidely crossing her arms over her chest and keeping her fixed gaze on the Triwizard champions.

He didn’t laugh at her joke, instead stepped forward blocking her view. “You’re not wearing the badge I made you,” He said pulling out one of those nasty badges everyone was wearing. All of those ‘POTTER STINKS’ badges, who do you think was behind them?

She looked at him and at the badge he was holding on his stretched-out hand. Her eyes bounced back from the badge that switched from Cedric’s face to Harry’s and back up to his malicious smirk before taking it in her hand. She hated to admit it, but they were even a better quality than Hermione’s S.P.E.W. badges. Nel brought it up to her face for closer inspection and eyed it intently before tossing it over her shoulder without any care whatsoever.

He looked at her incredulously.

“You need to get a hobby,” She answered in a dead-beat tone getting ready to walk away from him.

“I do have a hobby,” He claimed rounding around her once again blocking her path. “It’s not my fault Quidditch season was canceled this year because of the stupid tournament.”

“Find a new one then,” She groused growing more and more irritated by his presence. She moved to one side trying to dodge him and he side stepped blocking her way. Left, right, left, left again. Damn. He was more agile than he looked. She glared frustrated he wouldn’t move out of her way.

“One that doesn’t involve pestering me!” She raised her voice at him.

Without an alternative she tried to push him over just like she had done to Hannah Abbot just a couple of minutes earlier but instead he caught both of her hands in his. Elowen pulled back but he refused to let go. Draco was laughing as she struggled against his snare grip. He seemed highly entertained, which further infuriated the Slytherin girl.

“Rehearsing for the Yule Ball Saintday?” She heard Blaise Zabini call from behind as he approached them. Following were Crabbe, Goyle and other Slytherin boys. She felt her ears turning red from both the anger and the embarrassment.

“Why won’t you wear the badge?” Malfoy pressed. “Because they’re foul and childish, just like you,” She shot back harshly making the Slytherin boys around them all call out loud ‘oooooohs’ at the offense.

“Leave her alone Malfoy!”

All eyes turned to see Harry Potter approaching the group of Slytherins. Ron stood a couple of feet behind him so did Seamus Finnegan witnessing the scene.

“This doesn’t concern you Scarhead,” Draco snapped back with malice turning his attention to glare at Potter. Nel took this opportunity to push hard enough away from him and liberate her hands, lightly staggering back as she did from the force she had exerted.

“Shouldn’t you be preparing for the tournament?” Malfoy began swaggering in Harry’s direction. “You see Potter, my father and I have a bet. I don't think you're gonna last ten minutes in this tournament. He disagrees. He thinks you won't last five.”

The Slytherins around all laughed.

“I don’t give a damn what you or your father thinks Malfoy,” Harry stepped up and shoved the blond back angrily. This time Malfoy didn’t make any attempt to catch Harry’s hands. “He’s vile and cruel, and you’re just pathetic,” he glowered. His green eyes turning to his friend who in turn bumped into Malfoy’s shoulder as she walked past him and joined Harry’s side. She shot him a glare before following after Harry.

Already embarrassed and furious by their indifference, even angrier after seeing the Slytherin walk away with the Gryffindor. Draco did a cowardly move; he raised a wand at Potter’s back ready to curse the Gryffindor’s knees on backwards.

Nobody expected Professor Moody to appear and without a warning turning Malfoy into a ferret.

“That’ll teach you to cast when someone’s back is turned!” Professor Moody rushed to the scene. The Hufflepuffs in the courtyard followed suit when they heard the commotion. Harry and Nel looked at the white ferret in awe.

McGonagall, who was also in the premises, rushed to see what all the cacophony was about. “Professor Moody what are you doing?” She asked alarmed as she eyed the white animal being cruelly levitated in the air.

“Teaching,” was all Mad Eye responded.

The professor lifted the ferret and spun it in the air several times in dizzying loops before stretching out Crabbe’s pants and ramming it in. The ferret let out a squeak before being stuffed into the horror that was the inside of Crabbe’s pants. The Slytherin boy squirmed uncomfortably trying to shake his furry friend off. By now everybody in the courtyard was doubled in laughter laughing at the scene until the ferret slid out down and out of Crabbe’s leg which was when Professor McGonagall turned it back into a human.

“My father will hear about this!” Were the first words from his mouth. He threatened with spite before rushing up to his feet. “Is that a threat?!” Moody snapped stepping forward waving his wand in a menacing matter.

“Alastor!” McGonagall snapped halting the professor from hexing the student. Draco was ready to run away from the mad man.

“We never use transfiguration as punishment. Surely, Dumbledore told you that?” She warned with a look that said she was not meant to be crossed. Then again, overall, Minerva McGonagall was not a woman to be crossed.

“He might’ve mentioned it,” Professor Moody said innocently bringing his wand to his lips.

Harry and Nel were still laughing despite the severity of the situation.

“Ms. Saintday, you look like you’re enjoying yourselves,” McGonagall’s eyes dated towards the laughing duo focusing on the Slytherin. Of course, the Head of Gryffindor would never call on her on House. How typical. Regardless both instantly stopped their giggling.

“Won’t you escort Mr. Malfoy to Madame Pomfrey’s.”

It wasn’t a request.

Draco protested half the short way that the two had to walk to the Hospital Wing.

“Why do I even have to go to Madame Pomfrey’s?” He complained as the two walked in the direction of the Hospital Room.

‘I don’t know- maybe because the last time you got a scratch on you, you wore a cast for a month?’ She wanted to roll her eyes at his question.

“Psychological damages?” She guessed with a small laugh. “I mean after being in Crabbe’s pants,” She shivered not even wanting to think of what the boy kept inside of those pants. She wouldn’t be surprised if there was an old ham sandwich lost somewhere in there.

He scowled at her.

It was bad enough that he had just been publicly humiliated in front of half of the school. First told of by Kennel Nel, the orphan mutt and ill-tempered bitch of Slytherin House, then aggressively shoved by Potter, and finally turned into a filthy mustelid by a professor. It was downright degrading.

“Serves you right for being such an unbearable prick,” She said sounding more than pleased as they continued on their way. (She wasn’t wrong he had it coming).

‘They’re foul and childish, just like you.’ Did she really think that low of him? Why did it even matter whatever esteem or regard she held him in? What about Potter? He cheats his way into a sacred tournament, and she doesn’t bat an eyelash over it? Why was it always bloody Saint Potter? Who makes the Quidditch Team during their First Year? Harry bloody Potter. Who becomes the Youngest Seeker in the Century? Scarhead Potter. Who wins the first match Quidditch match of the year when his own father, Lucius Malfoy, is watching the match with a judging eye? Potter.

Who gets to ride that oaf, Hagrid’s, bloody chicken? Saint Potter.

Who gets to share Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans with Saintday on Sundays? Potter.

Potter. Potter. Potter.

That wanker was and would always be there to take everything and anything away from him.

The Chosen One. The Saint. Dumbledore’s favorite.

He should’ve been the one making the Quidditch Team during their first year. Malfoy not Potter. He should’ve been the Youngest Seeker in the Century. He should’ve won 1992’s first game of the season. He had a demanding father to impress, Potter didn’t. He should’ve been the one riding the Hippogriff off into the sunset. The one with friends. Saintday didn’t seem to like anyone and even she liked him.

And then this year. Of course, Potter couldn’t bear not being the center of attention for a bloody damn minute and just had to make the tournament about himself. His arrogance as always was astonishing. Worst part was that he probably knew he was going to get away with it.

Nel looked at him oddly when she didn’t hear a snarky response which was typical of him. Draco seemed lost in thought a cross look on his pale features. He noticed she was eyeing him curiously. It’s not like he would ever tell her, or that she would ever understand.

“What’s so damn great about him anyways?” He snapped his eyebrows knotted in an angry scowl.

The girl was a little startled by the shift in his mood, even taken aback by his harsh tone, she had never heard him speak like that.

“Who? Harry?” She asked with genuine confusion at his question.

“Why do you always take his side?” He accused absolutely livid. The humiliation of the day, embarrassment, anger and jealousy all biting into him at once.

He didn’t give her a chance to answer.

“You always take his side! You’d pick him over your own house mate. Alright – yeah, maybe the pins were childish – I’ll admit that much, but he cheated his way into the damn tournament Nel. He couldn’t bear not being the center of attention for a bloody damn minute and he had to make it about himself,” She looked at him with astonishment. “Worst part is that, since he’s Dumbledore’s favorite he knew he was going to get away with it. You think I’d get away with that? You think you’d get off the hook after pulling a stunt like that?” He spitefully scoffed at the thought.

Her mouth was open in surprise at his outburst.

“You know it’s true. He does this every damn year!”

Again silence. He didn’t know if she remained quiet because she was at loss of words or if from the shock of his angry words.

It looked like he was done with his explosion. “And worst part is, you defend him!” He hurled at her one last time before growing quiet.

One or two students passing by looked at them awkwardly before skulking away nervously making the silence between the two feel louder. Malfoy, well, he wasn’t completely wrong. Elowen really believed Harry when he said he had no clue how his name had gotten into the Goblet of Fire. Let’s be real, he wasn’t that talented of a wizard. Hermione she would’ve believed, but Harry?

Draco caught his breath as his temper faded and pulse slowed. He anxiously danced on his feet before walking away from her and his embarrassment. Fuck visiting Madame Pomfrey and fuck everything. He was absolutely mortified.

“Oi,” She called after him. He stopped in his way but didn’t turn her way. “Want to see something cool?” Her voice was cool and collected.

He didn’t budge, but also didn’t leave the corridor.

“It’s a secret…” She dangled carefully knowing he wouldn’t be able to resist the curiosity.

He pivoted slowly; she had his attention.

Xxx

“Why on Salazar’s good name would you bring me here?” The boy complained as he inspected the plants in the greenhouse carefully. He wouldn’t put it past him for Nel to feed him to fanged geranium or a massive Venus fly trap.

“To look at plants?” He guessed in a bored tone as he leaned forward to take a whiff of a plant with pink flowers that snarled at him. Maybe his first guess wasn’t too far off…

“Patience…” She said squatting looking under vines, behind pots and in between the branches of several plants. “Where is he…”

“Where is who?”

Draco felt a sudden weight on his foot and looked down to see a large brown snake slithering over his feet. “Merlin!” He yelped in surprise and stepped back as the snake hissed at him.

“Don’t hurt him!” The girl knelt down and picked up the large adder which wrapped its tail around her lower arm. Malfoy watched in awe as she tamed the serpent and the serpent in return answered to its master. “Watch it blondie!” The adder hissed again in his direction which made her laugh.

Draco watched in morbid fascination as she conversed with the snake. The thing was downright ugly. Big, fat, with bulding red orange eyes and a black diamond pattern on its back.

“You brought me here to see that ugly thing?”

“Oi, you’re no Prince Charming yourself,” the snake bit back, making her laugh even louder.

Draco’s eyes narrowed as he glared at the reptile. Was the snake… roasting him?

“What did it say?” He demanded to know.

“Tell him,” Nathair said to her.

“He doesn’t like you,” She explained as the adder climbed up higher in her arm and nestled around her neck where it curled under her uniform greedily seeking the warmth of her body.

“You brought me here to look at a snake?” He asked again in surprise.

She shrugged casually as she stroked the snake’s head with her index finger. Animals didn’t usually tend to like her for one reason or another, but this one was alright. “I thought it would be cool.”

“Want to hold him?”

Draco was officially horrified.

“I’ll bite him,” Nathair chuckled slyly as Elowen walked towards the blonde boy. “Now, not unless I ask you to,” She whispered to the adder even if the other Slytherin in the room wouldn’t be able to understand her Parseltongue either way.

For somebody whose entire family had been in Slytherin, who wore a ring with a damn snake engraved, Malfoy was pretty chicken about touching Nathair. “Maybe, some other time,” He answered in a calm voice while looking at the adder dreadfully. She couldn’t help but laugh lightly at his comical expression before setting the adder down on top of some creeping vines.

“Harry is my friend,” She shifted to the sensitive topic. Nel attempted to pick her words carefully as to not trigger him. It sincerely didn’t matter to her if he had cheated his way into the tournament or not. The two were friends. Harry was lonely and so was she. To her it was only normal for the two to stick up for the other. “We understand each other in a different way. He’s also an orphan so… he understands,” She avoided his prying gaze while tapping her palms awkwardly on a wooden table.

“I understand you.”

Whatever she had been expecting him to say had not been that. She turned and her dark eyes met his silver ones. There was no mocking or sneering. He was being sincere. She didn’t want to think about those rare moments the two shared. Christmas Day 1992, the night at the Astronomy Tower, playing the violin at Hogsmeade. There were things he knew about her, ugly wounds she had never allowed anyone else to see.

She looked away briskly feeling her face turning what was probably an unflattering shade of burning red.

At the same time – who did he think he was? She didn’t think he understood her or maybe he did. Maybe he only understood the unstable two-dimensional version of her he had crafted in his head. “I don’t expect you to be able to empathize,” She added more crassly again changing the topic.

“Come,” He said making his way out of the greenhouse. “There’s something I’d like to show you,” He said stretching out his hand towards her. She pretended not to see it and instead walked on his side.

Xxx

“It’s hidden here somewhere,” Draco said as he opened the door to a dusty storage room in the third floor. The room was covered with cobwebs and old desks, chairs and old books were randomly stacked, clouds of dust went up as the two stepped in. He himself coughing at the dust. Nel waived them out of her wave with a lazy hand.

“What is?”

“It’s a mirror,” he answered. “Some Sixth-Years said that if you looked into it you could see a naked girl- Ow!” He winced at the sudden slap to his arm.

Just what had Draco Malfoy brought her here to do?

“Merlin, Saintday,” he rubbed his arm painfully. “I wasn’t finish,” He shot her an annoyed look, yet couldn’t help but laugh lightly at her reddened expression. “Which was a lie.”

She couldn’t tell if he sounded disappointed by this or not. “Here, it is,” He said suddenly stopping in front of a large mirror. Half of the mirror’s golden trim was covered by a torn sheet. There was a line cracked down one of its edges and overall it looked ancient. There was a large dust coated desk in front of it covering the lower half of the reflection.

The two Slytherins stood in front of it, their reflections starring back at them; confused brown eyes and cool grey ones.

“It’s called the Mirror of Erised. Rumor is that it shows the person standing before it anything and everything they desire.”

Nel stood before it deep in thought not seeing anything beyond her confused expression and Malfoy standing next to her.

“Alright then, move,” He instructed nudging his head to the side asking her to move away from the reflection.

She did as he instructed and stepped back, yet she still appeared in the mirror’s reflection. “Move further back, you’re still in the reflection.”

“Is here fine?” She called standing at a good distance away from both him and the mirror. He couldn’t help but feel his ears burning when he realized the two of them were standing next to each other in the mirror’s reflection.

The girl standing in the room looked at him oddly. He could be so weird sometimes…

He cleared his throat and straighten out his uniform shaking his head praying she didn’t realize what he had just seen.

The reflection changed and Draco saw all of the things he wanted in life. He had friends, genuine friends that cared about him, Potter was amongst them. They sincerely thought he was funny and played Quidditch him. Crabbe and Goyle, yeah, maybe they were his most loyal friends at Hogwarts, but he always felt their loyalty for him rooted in the fact that both of his parents worked for his dad. He saw his parents both of them filled with pride when they looked at him, specially his dad, gripping his shoulder tightly wearing a rare smile on his features.

“Why did you bring me here?” She spoke hoping to break him out of his trance. Whatever he was looking at… Whatever it was that Draco Malfoy desired, it seemed to deeply pain him.

He wiped a hand down his mouth hiding his frown before mumbling for her to step forward. Stepping in front center in the mirror she stood alone and saw no illusion unfold.

“I don’t think it’s working,” She said after a dense moment. “Wait- I think I see something.”

Elowen didn’t know what she had been expecting to see reflected in the mirror, maybe a private safe at Gringotts with a mountain of galleons or maybe complete independence and freedom from her horrible guardians, but instead she saw an older couple standing behind her. She didn’t know who they were, but she knew who she wanted it them be her parents. Both wearing modest muggle clothes. Both happy to see her. Both apologized for everything that had happened. Her reflection in the mirror was beaming, the cruel contrast of reality stark as a frown kept her lips turned down. Her eyes began to water.

She wanted to reach for them and touch them.

“It’s not real,” He warned.

All she wanted was a loving family.

“I see my family,” She admitted with an exhausting sigh. “At least, who I wish would be my family. My mother kind of looks like yours, my dad, strangely like Mr. Weasley, but both with dark hair,” She laughed weakly.

She hadn’t thought about her parentage in a while. At least not since meeting Sirius Black.

Distraught by her current emotions the scene shifted to show a girl standing before her. It was somebody she hadn’t seen in years and hadn’t thought of in a very long time: Lucy.

Lucy looked like Nel had always remembered. With thick, long wavy hair, large eyes and full lips. She was happy in this reflection, smiling, like Nel always remembered her. However, Lucy, well… now she was only a memory that had long ago been buried. Her name and disappearance had simply become another mystery for her to add to her list of enigmas to be questioned and perhaps one day solved.

“Why did you bring me here?” She asked with a painful expression that was similar to the one he wore when he was looking at his own reflection in the mirror.

“I want…” He kept his hung, shifting one of his feet awkwardly as he stood some steps away from her before dipping his hands in his pockets.

“I want to be friends with you.”

Had she heard him, right?

Malfoy seemed like the type of person to collect people. To keep people around him that would freely bend at his will and disposal. Expirable friendships like the one he had with Crabbe and Goyle. What purpose would Nel Saintday serve for him? Somebody to hex people for him? He already had goons to do that for him.

On the other hand, Elowen wasn’t the type of person who kept many friends around. Hell- most people would turn the other way if they saw her walking down the corridor, and presently with Tracey being absent doing… who knows what… and with Theodore spending all if not most of his time with Daphne, well the girl had been lonely.

She let out a laugh that sounded more uneasy than humorous. “And why would I want to be friends with a twitchy little ferret like you?”

He couldn’t be serious.

This was the boy that had tormented her for the majority of her time at Hogwarts. The foul git had just been bullying her and her friend in the courtyard just a couple of moments earlier. But then again, here they stood sharing their deepest, darkest desires to each other. Things that even Tracey and Theo didn’t know. When they had first met, he had both insulted and mocked her for being muggle born and an orphan.

Draco starred at her intently. He was dead serious. Maybe it was too late for him to mend a friendship with Potter, but maybe not with her.

Friends with Malfoy? It left a foul taste in her mouth.

How would that even function? What would they even say to each other? ‘Hello? How are you?’

Act like normal humans?

The thought of it was baffling.

But he was lonely.

She was lonely.

They were both alone and in truth, besides prideful vendettas, what was there to lose?

He wasn’t laughing, he wasn’t sneering, he was sober. He looked at her with woeful eyes standing very still holding his breath.

The two did have those rare moments they shared together. Maybe, things wouldn’t be too bad if they attempted to be civil to each other. Maybe the two would feel less lonely? Maybe it could even be nice?

Stepping towards him she stretched out an olive branch.

She took in a deep breath, hoping, praying she wouldn’t regret her words. Looking at him in the eye holding the promise that she would destroy him if he went back on his word.

“Friends?” She offered with a small, yet genuine smile.

Xxx

AN: Bet. Draco is going to majorly fuck this up somehow. Also it is almost the Yule Ball (excitement!)

Question: What do you think Draco’s Patronus should be?

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eastertag · 5 years ago

Text

@hedwigstalons gift for @taylart-x

The prompts used were ‘Annual Tracy egg hunt’ and ‘The ‘rescue bunny’’.

Jeff looked over the reports and frowned. He was rapidly coming to realise that International Rescue had become an organisation that never slept. In many cases literally if the frequency of the mission logs was anything to go by. Birthdays and Christmas, once important events in the Tracy family calendar, were rarely celebrated on the correct day. He doubted they even knew when Easter fell each year that holiday had fallen so far down the priority list. The organisation he had returned to, and the men that ran it, were very different to what he had been forced away from by his unexpected exile to the Oort cloud.

Or perhaps it wasn’t so different from what he had left behind. It was the same work ethic he himself had thrived on but now he had a better appreciation for finding a balance and spending time as a family. His boys had an unhealthy tendency to work themselves into the ground. Individually they might each get some time for relaxation but they were always on call and it was rare to get all five on the same planet. John’s primary residence was on board Thunderbird Five and while he came home more frequently than before a return to ‘business as usual’ had meant a return to having one son based at the space station. It had never been Jeff’s intention for the burden of manning the communications satellite to fall solely on the shoulders of one son but it seemed that is what had happened in his absence.

If his sons’ sense of duty was preventing them from taking a break then he would call upon that same sense of duty and use it to his advantage; pleasure masquerading as work. A faint smile curled over his features as he formulated a plan.

Jeff had already discovered that trying to be spontaneous only ended in disaster. The last time he had sprung a family day on them Scott and John between them had spent so long putting contingencies in place and making arrangements to divert the International Rescue systems that the plans had fallen flat. This time he would be more prepared.

xoxoxox

The sight of Thunderbird One and Thunderbird Two parked up on the Domain behind the hospital was a familiar one for the residents of Auckland. As one of the largest hospitals in New Zealand and the site of the closest major trauma unit to International Rescue’s base of operations Auckland City Hospital played host to the operatives in blue more times than those same operatives would like. Patches of the open field were permanently scorched from repeated exposure to VTOL, so much so that the craft almost had their own parking bays marked out.

This time though Auckland was not worried about the health of its local heroes; they could see the pilots of the Thunderbirds, or at least four of them, arranged on the staging in front of the Auckland Museum. The grass in front of the staging was littered with brightly coloured rugs and blankets. Picnic hampers were dotted about and there was a distinct holiday feeling in the air.

“Tell me again why I agreed to this.” The voice from inside the rabbit costume was slightly muffled and indistinct but still dripped with exasperation. As someone who lived most of their life in low Earth orbit, and often had to rely solely on verbal communication, John was able to convey an eye roll just through tone alone.

“Because, Johnny boy, someone had to wear the suit and the alternative is running around with the kids.” Gordon couldn’t resist the opportunity to throw in the loathed nickname, especially as John was unable to physically retaliate. A giant bunny smacking an International Rescue operative around the back of head would be bad PR, even if said bunny and operative were brothers.

John had to concede that Gordon had a point. While he might be feeling the humiliation of playing the Easter bunny his brothers were tasked with being team captains in the upcoming egg hunt. The thought of being responsible for a score of hyped up and over-sugared children was not appealing. Nor was the thought of running around in gravity which would likely end up with him eating dirt. Perhaps the costume was the least embarrassing option after all. At least he was comfortable. He had his uniform on under the rabbit suit and the in-built thermal regulation system was keeping him nicely cool in the warm sunshine of early autumn. He could almost forget he was wearing the thick, furry oversuit.

The other advantage to being inside the suit was that no one could actually see him. John was never comfortable being in the public eye and being stood up on the staging in front of the arranged children and their families was making his squirm. He had to resist the urge to claw at the neck of the costume where it joined the oversized head piece. He also wished his brothers would lay off tweaking his tail.

Casting an eye over the crowd, and judging that any latecomers had been given sufficient time to get comfortable, Jeff stepped up the front of the staging. A hush settled over the assembled gathering and Jeff’s voice projected clearly; no microphone required. He was the boss after all.

“Welcome and thank you all for coming. From the very beginning Tracy Industries has been a family run company and I would like to think that it is still family orientated. Without your dedication to the company it would not be the success it is today. You are the most important element in the business. I have always felt the importance of coming together socially to build our working family outside of the office. Unfortunately, when my sons relocated head office to Auckland during my unintended absence it seems that these events were not continued. I feel it is time to resurrect the old traditions so I would like to thank you for coming along to the Tracy Industries Family Egg Hunt.”

There was a smattering applause from the families spread out on the picnic rugs. The reactions showed a clear division between the polite acknowledgement of those who had joined after Jeff went missing and the more enthusiastic response of those who had moved with the company when it relocated.

Those who had worked for the company in Los Angeles, or who came from the even earlier days in Kansas, had been thrilled when the memo went round that Jeff was reinstating the holiday event. The events had been popular. Their enthusiasm had spilled around the offices and a healthy crowd had turned up to the Domain.

The five assembled sons felt a pang of guilt at their father’s words. They had done they best they could. Managing the conflicting demands of International Rescue and Tracy Industries after their father’s presumed death had been difficult. They had never asked to be thrust into the dual leadership roles so young. The social events were just one of the elements that had slipped.

“The rules today are simple. You must find the hidden eggs and return them to your team captain. You can only carry one egg at a time. No taking eggs from another player but if you catch an opposing team captain they will forfeit one of their collection and hand it over to you. No straying outside the playing area. The team with the most eggs at the end wins the prize. Now, can all the children taking part please go and join their allocated team captains and collect a coloured sash.”

The four brothers not clad in giant rabbit suits took their cue to jump down and start distributing simple cloth sashes to the excited crowd of children. Bands of red, yellow, green and blue were hastily shoved on as each child pledged allegiance to their favourite Thunderbird.

The team captains made their way to the four corners of the playing field, followed by their broods like a troop of mother ducks with their ducklings. Jeff gave them time to take up their positions before speaking through the comms.

“Is everybody ready?”

He received four responses of “FAB”.

Knowing how it would delight the children, and how proud Tracy Industries families were of their connection with International Rescue, Jeff started the obligatory.

“Five. Four. Three. Two. One.”

His own “Thunderbirds are go!” was drowned out by the chorus of the field operatives shouted over the comms system.

Children began spreading out across the field, swooping down on the brightly coloured eggs laying in the grass or hidden at the base of trees. Three out of the four siblings could also be seen popping up on occasion to receive eggs from their team while trying to avoid being caught by the other players.

Jeff listened to the chatter over the open comms line. He gave a satisfied smile as the airwaves became filled with breathless laughter and good natured teasing. There hadn’t been enough laughter in his sons’ lives.

While he felt it important to restart the Tracy Industries community events he also felt it important to let his sons be children again. Gone were the serious young men who held the weight of the world on their shoulders. The operatives, in their distinctive blue uniforms, were the biggest kids out there. It also gave him an insight into their differing characteristics.

Scott was ever the commander. His troops were spreading out with military precision. The blue team systematically swept the field. No stray egg was left behind as the team scoured first their own quadrant and then the wider area.

Unfortunately the brave field commander seemed to have forgotten that his brothers were actively working against him rather than for him.

Gordon opened up a private comm line to Alan, temporarily muting their conversation from the wider network.

“Hey, Alan.”

“What‘s up?”

“How do you feel about joining forces and taking our esteemed older brother down a peg or two?”

“Which one?”

“Scott. But we will need to watch out for Virg too. I haven’t seen the jolly green giant since we started.”

“Me neither. So what’s the plan?”

The pair made a hurried plan, knowing that every moment they stayed off the main comms frequency they risked detection through their absence.

Virgil, from his vantage point on high, watched the events unfolding below. Opting to play a defensive game he had hauled himself up into a tree at the start of proceedings. One of the older children who had good throwing accuracy was stationed near by, ready to pass up any eggs the team collected. Let his siblings fight it out amongst themselves. He intended to keep hold of every single egg claimed by his intrepid green team. He was quite comfortable settled in the branches. He had even had the foresight to fill some of the equipment pouches on his uniform with snacks.

Scott has moved too far out into the open as his team performed their methodical sweep of the playing area. Alan had been able to circle his team behind the unsuspecting commander while Gordon directed his team round in a pincer movement. The trees and bushes that broke up the field provided excellent cover.

A blood curdling yell filled the air.

Alan, leading his band of red clad troops, broke cover and sprinted towards the unsuspecting Scott. The red and yellow teams together formed a natural funnel providing only one logical route of escape. The field commander took off at a sprint. He knew he would be able to easily out pace his younger sibling. He just needed to keep ahead until Alan ran out of steam.

What he hadn’t counted on was Gordon.

As he sprinted through a gap between two bushes Scott felt a solid weight slam into his side as Gordon launched himself in a low tackle. Blue and yellow tumbled into the dirt. Reflexes honed through years of training that had him rolling with the tackle and no damage was done but his run for freedom was well and truly curtailed. Not to be left out, Alan launched himself on top of the duo rolling on the floor.

Children of all factions piled on top of the trio. All three brothers found their egg collection bags raided and scattered about the surrounding grass.

Breaking out from the giggling, writhing mass of children the three Thunderbirds dusted themselves off.

Blue, red and yellow all ended up worse off from the encounter. The green team, not to be left out, took advantage of the whole situation. While the other three teams just ended up swapping eggs between them the green team swooped in and carried off a fair portion to be handed to their still hidden captain.

“Well that went well”. Scott rolled his eyes at Alan and Gordon as all three looked at their much depleted haul.

“Worth it though” smirked Gordon. “You really are far too predictable.”

“You do realise Mr I’m-So-Bad-At-Competitive-Games-I’ll-Just-Fake-Having-Something-Else-To-Do is likely to win now? We will never live this one down. Is he even still out here or has he sloped off for ice cream?”

“I heard that.” Virgil’s voice came through loud and clear over the comms. It was easy to forget they were running an open network and every word was being broadcast to their siblings and father. “And just for that I think I’ll give a copy of my body-cam footage to Kayo.”

This elicited a combined grimace from the three on the ground. Kayo would likely have severe words about Scott walking in to such a blatant trap. Severe words that would likely be punctuated by some very painful training sessions.

The three were about to go their separate ways to continue the game when a new and wholly unwelcome voice graced the airwaves.

Grandma.

Normally this wouldn’t be a problem but she had stayed home to monitor the International Rescue systems with the help of Eos. This could only mean one thing.

“I’m sorry boys. We have a situation.”

xoxoxox

It was a weary set of operatives that trooped into the Tracy Island lounge goodness knows how many hours later. The incoming rescue call had required the skills of all five siblings and they had left their father behind to deal with the aftermath of the picnic and to make his own way home. Now all five were running on empty and just wanted to head off to bed but knew they needed to check in first.

“Another successful mission” yawned Scott. “You really didn’t need to wait up for us.”

“It’s my prerogative to wait up and worry about you” countered Jeff.

He watched with fatherly concern as his boys trailed in behind their leader. Faces were lined with exhaustion. Uniforms were soot smudged and dirtied, bearing the marks of hard work and many hours of exertion in the danger zone. Thankfully none of them were displaying obvious signs of injury

His look of concern changed to one of mild amusement as his final son appeared from the hangers. Gone was the novelty headpiece and furry gloves but John still had the grey and white rabbit suit on over his uniform. Except now the costume was grey and more grey.

“Nice to see you keeping in the spirit of the holiday Son, but I think we now owe Tracy Industries a new costume.”

A look of puzzlement crossed John’s face. He was too tired for riddles. He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes in an effort to stave off the wave of exhaustion and wiped away some of the soot from his face with the sleeve of his uniform.

Since when had his uniform been furry?

Comprehension dawned as he looked down.

He shot an accusatory look at his brothers.

“Did no one think to tell me I still had this thing on?”

“Aw c’mon, it suits you.” Gordon was practically sniggering from the place he had claimed on the sofa.

“It’s hardly professional though. I mean, what must the local rescue services have though? No wonder the local police liaison couldn’t look me in the eye.”

“Well the fire chief thought it was cute. She even went as far as to ask me if our very own rescue bunny was single.”

A faint flush could be seen under the grime that still smeared John’s face. He quickly turned and stalked off towards his Earthside bedroom.

“So, should I send her your number?” Gordon shouted after him.

“I hate you all” came the distant response. “Next year I’m staying on Five.”

#thunderbirds #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds 2004 #thunderbirds 2015 #thunderbirds tos #jeff tracy #Scott Tracy #Virgil Tracy #John Tracy #Gordon Tracy #alan tracy #EasterTAG #submission

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uozlulu · 4 years ago

Note

Who are your favorite top ten black clover characters and ships? Talk about them.

This is both easy and hard. Like I have so many faves and ships, can I really make a top ten? Let’s find out

Ten top faves in order they came to my brain:

Asta - It was favorite character at first bellow really. I like that he’s got his own political philosophy which is more than some other Jump heroes in similar positions have sometimes. He reads very nephew I never had to me. I just really love loud, kind characters really.

Noelle - I like that her powers improve and grow with her desire to protect others. She’s also set up for such a great character arc when all is said and done. It’ll be fun to see her continue to loosen up more and more as we go now that she’s with a family who loves her openly and unconditionally.

Yuno - He reminds me of my little brother so a lot of his interactions with Asta bring on a lot of nostalgia. I also like how there are layers to him even if they’re subtle. He’s clearly got some depression issues to work through. I’m looking forward to how he handles a manga spoiler as he deals with more and more with such things.

Charmy - I like that she can be both funny but also srsbsns when needed. She’s always entertaining and there’s so much more we can learn about her as we go along.

Mereoleona - She’s very loud and very interesting. Like does sense use her grimoire when she makes those fire paws? I think we’ve only seen evidence of her grimoire open once but maybe that was actually Fuego’s. I also like how she’s in a position in which she can reject the nonsense of nobility without us having to sit through some family estrangement drama.

Magna - I want to see more of him. He’s an interesting dad friend to Klaus’ mom friend and he’s also constantly struggling to make things work. He’s very, very relatable. Reminds me of my struggle with learning to spell and learning math post-pre-algebra.

Charlotte - I love her. A constant contradiction. Confined by the etiquette of nobility and her own nerves while deep down having her teen crush phase ten years later than most. Really hoping the filler arc allows her to sort some stuff out not only for shipping reasons but I think that she’s kind of not quite done with her identity crisis so if she could get more of a harness on some of her contradictions or find a way to blend them together more smoothly that would be good for her overall. Would also love to see her and Luck figure out they’re actually (half?) siblings

Vangeance - Very relatable back story, and I am looking forward to seeing how he grows as a character now separated from Patri. Looking forward to what the filler arc is going to do with him.

Yami - He reminds me of my older sister in how he and Asta interact with each other, though my sister and I don’t you know how so much bathroom conversation >____>;;; (but that’s Jump for you). I’m hoping we get to learn more about him as we go along here. Also curious how many people in Clover Kingdom realize Yami is actually his surname considering Julius calls him Yami and calls Vangeance William.

Father Orsi - I’ve always rather liked him. In many ways he’s Asta and Yuno’s dad. I’m kind of hoping the current backstory subplot ends with that being acknowledged in some way kind of like how during the elf arc we had a lot of familial talk like Licht and Tetia getting married, Yuno being the reincarnation of their child, Tetia and Lumiere being siblings, etc...and had a plot point of Asta saving Orsi’s life while Yuno kept the threat at bay. Yuno especially is at a critical point that his part of the subplot could go in that kind of direction, which would be nice since Asta had the bigger father son moment with Orsi last time, but it won’t surprise me if by the time we get there it will be both Asta and Yuno who affirm that Hage is their home and the church and their squads are their families.

Ten ships I enjoy in no particular order:

Asta/Noelle - Asta’s still hopelessly devoted to Sister Lily and Noelle has only just discovered her heart can doki doki but I think they have the potential to grow and change together and become a really strong couple as that progresses.

Yami/Charlotte - These two are very relatable. Does Yami know? I think he does, but I also think he can’t be 100% certain, which is very relatable especially since I too grow up as an “other” around my peers. Charlotte is also relatable because a lot of what she says out loud is some of my own internal monologue from back when I used to get crushes on people. It’s such a stupid mutual crush that could really become something fun if they would both just communicate and be themselves.

Luck/Magna - They have a deep friendship and understanding of each other which could totally translate into something more if they wanted, which is always my jam. They also seem to know how far is too far when you factor out that they’re a hyper violent comedy routine at times, and that’s also nice.

Yami/Vangeance - Makes me sad how little content there is for this ship especially after I filter out what I don’t want to see on AO3. Again you’ve got that friendship that could evolve aspect and they’re also two people Clover Kingdom sees as an “other” and had to prove themselves to get where they are. They both seem to have a love style that isn’t controlling given the love they show for their squads, which I think is what both of them need.

Finral/Klaus - I know. I know. Everyone’s going “Where did that even come from?” and the answer is there is so little Black Clover fic when I saw a fic for this ship a while back I was like “Okay. Tell me more,” and it sold me on the ship. Both of them are kind of in a support position for their squads, they were both raised as nobles, and they both are kind of learning to let go of that nobility, though Finral has already let go of a lot of it now and Klaus is only starting to loosen up. It’s an interesting dynamic I’d like to see more of.

Noelle/Kahono - Might have been me projecting a bit but when Kahono set up a double date designed to get Noelle and Asta together it reminded me of when I was in the closet back in middle and high school and fixed this girl I had a crush on up with the boys she liked alsfjldskfjaldkj. Also Kahono seems to have a lot of warmth and affinity for Noelle, and I think if they were able to interact more something could develop. They’d be very cute together, though I think Noelle likes her crushes weirder than Kahono but maybe Kahono has a secret weirdo side we just haven’t seen yet.

Grey/Gauche - Do you ever like look at Gauche and feel that one gifset of Nick Furry burst forth? Yeah, so in a world in which he finally calms down a bit about Marie, he can be part of a ship as a treat. I like that they both can bring out sides of each other others can’t and I think they both have a lot of room to grow together as people. It would also be nice to see Gauche unwind a bit (though I think he’ll always be stuffy) and Grey open up more (though she’ll always be shy). They also seem like characters that wouldn’t overwhelm each other either, which is good because I think both of them wouldn’t respond well to more aggressive personality types.

Charmy/Rill - We need to talk about how everyone Rill loves has handed him his ass. We really do. His butler did, Asta did, and now wolf!Charmy has. Just wait until sheep!Charmy hands him his ass, he’ll never look back. That said, that’s not why I like them. I like them because I think Charmy needs someone who will appreciate her and I think Rill definitely will as he gets used to her. I also think Rill needs someone who won’t put up with nonsense unless it’s the fun kind of nonsense and Charmy definitely would fit the right kind of chaotic energy. I also like ships in which the girl is just as capable of saving the boy (a la Sailor Moon and Tuxedo Mask) so again, like Asta/Noelle and Yami/Charlotte, I’m here for this ship.

Leopold/Yuno - This stemmed from me thinking about how they would interact since strangely enough we’ve not seen them in the same place as the same time yet since Leopold didn’t participate in the Royal Knight Selection Exam. I would love to read some fics with this pairing but there aren’t a lot out there. In some ways it’s that anxiety/depression ship dynamic that I gravitate towards so it’s no surprise I’m curious how it would go. Maybe they’ll get to work together in the next major battle arc.

Noelle/Nero - But like when Nero is in human form, you know? Again, it’s that anxiety/depression dynamic. I also think that while Noelle can draw on strength from Nero in battle, Nero can draw on strength from Noelle outside of battle because Noelle has that side of her that likes to care for people and has a lot of compassion for others even though she tries to cover it up by being tsundere. It’ll be fun to watch them fight alongside each other since they’re both going to be training in Heart Kingdom during the filler arc at some point.

#anonymous #ask box replies #long post #ymmv #shipping talk #not really manga spoilers #but hinted at #black clover

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thetomorrowshow · 5 years ago

Text

Mutually Beneficial Ch. xx

First - Previous - Next

Recommended listening: Panic! At The Disco & Fun. - C’Mon

Tw: Panic attack, self-deprecating thoughts

The Imagination was quiet today. Calm, docile. Today all the villagers would be picnicking, or barn-raising, or simply enjoying the fresh air.

Roman had wandered into the woods, his pajamas morphing into a forester's green and leather ensemble. He let the sickly green mist that had belonged to his brother drift away from his fingers, attaching itself to a tree, causing it to shrivel and grow gnarled. Roman didn't notice.

He found himself by a small waterfall. He came here sometimes, after spending time in Virgil's room, or after a particularly fruitless brainstorming session. Sometimes his thoughts were just too loud. The waterfall drowned them out.

Roman flopped onto the ground. An earthy smell filled his nostrils; the slightly damp grass tickled the back of his neck in a way that was almost okay.

If he stared up at the blue sky through the branches, and let the waterfall fill his mind, he could almost believe he was all right. He could almost convince himself that Virgil had never disappeared, that he himself had never been tortured, that his skin was smooth, devoid of any permanent marks. He could almost convince himself that he wouldn't freak out the next time someone touched him.

The Imagination was quiet today. But all the quiet in the world couldn't be louder than the thoughts in Roman's head.

Virgil had finally gotten sleep at some point. Not much, but enough that his panic was no longer dulled, as it had become the more exhausted he'd been.

“At least Patton's safe,” he'd found himself whispering over and over again. Now, however, doubts crept into his mind. He could've sworn he'd seen something green peeking out of Patton's ears. At the time, he'd written it off as a trick the panic was playing on his vision. But . . . what if it really was what he thought it was?

He tried to shake it off. Patton had Logan and Roman now. He would be okay.

Somehow, this felt like the end of something. He didn't know what, Virgil realized as he painfully, haltingly, paced the room. When he'd first arrived, the room was familiarly huge, too large a space for just him. Too empty, too silent. Too much. Now it was too full, too loud. Too little. Making one circuit of the room had once felt like a lifetime, now it felt like mere seconds. Once he had yelled just to fill the silence. Now he was quiet, just trying to appease the noise.

Walking wasn't helping at the moment, so Virgil sat, his body grateful for the rest. He needed to find another way to calm himself. Roman had always insisted that making up stories was relaxing. Maybe he could give that a try.

“Once upon a time,” Virgil began, over the deafening quiet, “there was . . . a prince. The prince never really understood how to make things right. Instead of trying, he separated himself from any solution. He was a stubborn prince. . . .”

He could always ask for help, Roman supposed. He could explain what was wrong. Logan would have a solution. He always did.

Just the thought of explaining what happened, and how he felt, made his stomach turn. There was no way to bring that up in everyday conversation.

“Oh, by the way,” Roman said aloud, letting his eyes wander. “Just wanted to let you know that before Deceit did . . . it, he acted . . . and he. . . .” he groaned. That sounded stupid.

A squirrel crawled up to where he was sprawled on the ground and nudged his fingertips. Roman absentmindedly scratched its head. Thomas had to be so bored right now. His creativity was barely functional and refused to communicate with the other Sides.

“He hoped—so hard—that his friends wouldn't find him.”

“Roman? Roman, are you in here?”

There Logan was now. Roman imagined him standing just inside the entrance, peering around apprehensively. Roman didn't move to respond, though. He continued to pet the furry woodland animals—a chipmunk had joined the squirrel, then two rabbits and a deer—as they gathered around him. The deer lay curled up by his side, the rabbits on his stomach. It was almost peaceful. He didn't want Logan to find him. He hadn't had a proper moment to relax in far too long.

“But they did. They found him.”

“Ah, there you are.”

The animals shifted uneasily as Roman stiffened. A bespectacled face appeared in his field of vision.

“I told you to stay out of the Imagination until you have recovered.” Logan extended a hand to help him up. Roman pretended to not notice, instead letting his hand rest on the deer's head and his eyelids slip closed.

“And they didn't understand.”

“Roman.” Logan's voice was annoyed now, and there was a shuffling sound, and suddenly there was a hand wrapped around Roman's upper arm. There was a moment of nothing that lasted an eternity, the calm before the storm. Roman felt his heartbeat speed up, his eyes open wide, his muscles tense. The creatures scattered.

Then it felt like his insides were tearing him apart.

“And he couldn't explain.”

“What in Newton's name is the matter?”

His back was against something rough, and he couldn't move, but he had to, because he wasn't safe he wasn't safe he wasn't safe he—

Then Roman blinked, and forced himself to take a deep breath. In for four, hold for seven, out for eight. His vision cleared; Logan stood a good five feet away, confusion warring with concern on his face. Roman realized he was curled up, back pressing a little painfully into a tree trunk. He couldn't say anything yet, he recognized, as his mouth opened and shut several times.

Logan's face softened almost imperceptibly. “Roman, subjects who talk with someone about their trauma often feel emotionally and physically better. Do you need to—”

“I'm fine,” Roman muttered, his voice found. “You can go.”

“Roman—”

“Go.”

Logan hesitated. “Be back within thirty minutes,” he ordered. “Patton would like to see you and Thomas needs sleep.”

Roman didn't make any movement. A bird fluttered down and landed on his shoulder.

Logan turned and walked away from the clearing with the waterfall, posture stuff and head held high.

“He pushed them away. He wasn't worthy of such awesome—no, wonderful friends. They . . . they could never know how broken he was.”

Roman's shoulders dropped, his body shaking as his adrenaline from moments before vanished. More animals crept to his side, pressing themselves against him to try and offer as much comfort as they could.

A tear slipped down his cheek as Roman took in a shuddering gasp.

“He was so tired of hurting.”

TAGLIST (please ask to be added/removed): @kai-the-person @stop-it-anxiety @i-can-get-extra-with-my-ships @shitpost-sides @bl00scl00s @charakitcat @ainsleyf @sandersstuffsblog @ginnyfox617 @enragedbees @minty4green @eggy-boyo @escalatingtoofast @hayden-going-insane @piixelations @supersoftsupersleep @crowsmadreadful @hpdmmdundtl @imnotjustanxiety @thenewlarislynn @mooniecoockie @eden607 @sanderssidesweirdo @cali-the-dreamer

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