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writtenonreceipts · 2 years ago

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Something Elorcan ( like a guard x lady au not modern) love your writing especially for these two!!💞💞

I have been wanting to answer this for forever. unfortunately I got it in my head it had to be perfect. Then I lost the outline I made for a full length fic and I got discouraged. So now I am very slowly piecing this together again. Enjoy for now!

@elorcanweek2022 Day Five: I will always find you. Week Masterlist My main masterlist

Iron Bound: The Guard and the Lady

The manor held a deep chill that spread through every room and every hall. It was inescapable. Truly it was. Even with her thick dressing robe Elide’s skin was rough with gooseflesh and she was convinced that at any second her teeth would start chattering. It was hardly even fall and already the manor felt as though it were thrown into the galls of winter.

Elide pulled her thin robe closer around her too thin body as she moved through the halls. The chill was the least of her worries however. She should be more concerned about being found out by anyone. She was, after all, not supposed to be out of her room. So, she tried to keep her steps quick and light, but with her ankle she never had the same mobility as before.

To counteract the damn ankle, she kept to the lesser used halls and dipped into alcoves whenever she heard or saw someone approaching. It wasn’t often and usually it was more out of paranoia than anything. But she knew that if anyone found her they would report to her uncle. And if they reported to her uncle it would only mean further misery for her.

So, Elide used caution and stealth she had learned through the years of being subjugated to her uncle and slipped through the manor.

It wasn’t long until she reached the kitchens.

The old kitchens were a welcome sight. With the high ceilings and large windows, it was a comforting room that offered a taste of freedom. That, combined with the scents of yeast and rising bread for tomorrow's meals gave Elide a sense of home.

She moved through the kitchen and found day old bread conveniently left out on one of the tables. And beside the small basket was a little dish of butter.

Elide smiled. The cook was one of the only staff left from when her parents were still alive and Elide had grown fond of the older man, especially as a child. Only on occasion did Elide have the chance to talk to him. Even then it was a brief hello and thank-you.

After her ankle had first been broken, the cook had been the one to help bring her meals up to her tiny tower. And he’d told her that there would always be an extra slice of bread at his hearth for her. And he was certainly keeping his word. It was something that she would always remember for years to come and served as a small reminder that she was not the only person in this manor defying her uncle.

Elide tore a piece of bread from the full loaf and spread a thick pat of butter over it. She took a large bite and nearly let out a moan at the rich, sweet taste. Hurriedly she scarfed down the entire slice and was just buttering up another when the main door--not the servants entrance--opened.

Elide froze and looked up just in time to see the broad form of the Captain of the Guard enter the kitchen.

He was a towering brute even outside the kitchen but with the barely flickering candlelight to emphasize every shadow--Lorcan Salvaterre appeared even larger. He stared at Elide with a look she didn’t recognize. He actually seemed shocked to see her.

He took a step toward her. “You.”

“Me.” She nodded grimly.

“Your uncle said you were to be locked in your room.”

“He told you to lock me in my rooms, yes, but he never told me to actually stay there.” Elide took a large bite of her buttered bread and smiled at the brute of a man before her. She ignored the fact that she was in a nightgown that was ages out of fashion and thin enough that one wrong movement would leave everything on display. Instead, she fixed her robe a little closer to her frame and did her best to appear the perfect image of innocence.

Captain Salvaterre frowned. Deeply. There were already lines forming on his face, despite not even being thirty, that told her this was a common occurrence. The frown lines combined with the dozens of scars on his skin only emphasized his rough hewn appearance.

“I’ve done this before, Captain, there’s no need to worry about your delicate reputation and honor among your men and my uncle.”

Oh he did not seem to appreciate that.

“Do you realize what will happen if you’re found?” he asked.

“I’d imagine I’ll get my bed taken away,” Elide said lightly, “he’s rather fond of doing that. He might even try breaking my ankle again. Though, I’m not sure if he’ll find a way of passing it off as an accident this time.”

Captain Salvaterre didn’t flinch at her blase words. He merely watched her. She shouldn’t have been surprised. The man was a skilled soldier. His broad form and careful movements certainly attested to that. And then considering the fact that he was hired by her uncle to take over her protection--there was not a doubt in Elide’s mind that he was familiar with pain. With torture. With death. He’d likely seen even worse than what she endured.

“Are you hungry?” Elide asked. She held out what remained of the bread loaf she hadn’t eaten.

Salvaterre shook his head. “No.”

“Fine.” Elide kept eating.

“You’ve done this before.” Not a question.

“Only on nights he has guests,” Elide said. She instantly regretted it. He would most certainly report back to her uncle what she’d done. Why and how. She’d be torn out of bed in the gray hours of dawn and thrust into the bluffs to wander back home again. Or simply chained again once her bed, books, and blankets were taken away.

Salvaterre didn’t comment. But he did walk into the kitchen instead of lingering in the doorway. Elide was grateful for that. He had a looming presence that made it hard to concentrate at times and this at least gave her a bit more focus instead of having to sneak cursory glances out of the corner of her eye.

He stood opposite the preparation table and watched as she smeared more butter over the fluffy bread. The cook had left a loaf that seemed almost fresh. Had he baked late in the day just to leave this out for her?

“How did you get out of your room?” Salvaterre asked as the silence stretched on.

Elide didn’t answer as she ate.

“I won’t tell your uncle,” he said.

Snorting, Elide shook her head and swallowed. “He’s the one lining your pockets with gold. You’re loyal to him and only him.”

“I’m loyal to no one but myself,” Salvaterre replied.

Elide raised a brow. Did he really expect her to believe him? The Captain met her gaze with his own. His onyx eyes bore into her so intently that Elide found she could almost get lost in them. That in and of itself was a startling realization. She looked away first, cursing herself for it.

“I find I don’t believe you,” she said.

“How about a question and an answer,” he said, leaning against the table. “You ask and I answer honestly. I ask and you answer honestly.”

“I’m not a fool,” Elide told him. “I’ll not be tricked so easily.”

She had, in the past, laid her trust in former maids and guards and each one betrayed her. Which was why she still hadn’t allowed herself to like Lilian despite her bright eyes and kind smile. And it was also why she kept her eyes narrowed at Salvaterre.

“I’m off duty,” Salvaterre said, taking no offense to her blatant distrust. “Cook told me I could find some brandy tucked away if I so wished.”

As if that would ease her distress.

Salvaterre went to the ice box and withdrew an elaborate glass bottle. The amber liquid sloshed as he brought it back to the table. He took a long drink and set it in the middle of the table leaving it at the perfect distance for Elide to take it if she wanted to.

“Even if you’re not my uncle's lapdog, for the night,” Elide finally said, “why bother wanting to know anything about me?”

“I am your guard, Lady Elide,” Salvaterre said mildly. “If I am to protect you as I’ve been hired to, it's best to know at least something about you.”

It was the title that he attached to her name that kept her on edge. She hadn’t been left alone with a man that wasn’t her uncle in years. She was always surrounded by women or multiple guards. The last time she’d been alone with a man she’d ended up stabbing him. For good reason, but even if she knew she could protect herself she didn’t want to be alone with Salvaterre.

She dragged the simple butter knife closer to her. The butter knife before her might not be the best killing utensil but it would at least maim. The kitchen staff always locked up the real knives at the end of the day, per her uncle's instruction. She was sure if she had the time she’d find them and unlock their little safe.

“Why remain here if you hate it?” Salvaterre asked. Elide raised a brow. “It’s obvious everyday, Lady Elide. You despise your uncle, you scowl at everything, and you take great pains to avoid making any sort of human connection.”

How could he have possibly noticed all that?

“You say it as if I have a choice,” Elide replied. And then because she had no shame apparently, she grabbed the brandy and took a swig. “My uncle controls me. It’s well known, I am a simple minded girl who has never been the same since her parents were murdered. And you? You are no simple captain. Not with those scars and the way you look at everyone as if you’d like to kill them. Why take this position?”

Captain Salvaterre’s jaw clenched, the muscles feathering. He took the brandy back from her and drank.

“I have people relying on me.”

“A wife?”

“No.”

“A husband?”

It was his turn to narrow his eyes. She grinned.

“No.”

Elide shrugged. “Not that it matters who warms your bed. You just don’t seem the kind to have…allies.”

His face betrayed nothing as he leaned against the table again. He had to be at least seven feet tall with broad muscles expanding over a thick chest. His black hair hung in a ragged cut to his shoulders and it certainly didn’t reflect what she’d always imagined of a Captain of the Guard. Elide wondered where and how her uncle had found him.

“How did you get out of your rooms?” he asked, not playing into her teasing.

“I picked the lock,” she said. “It’s an easy enough trick to teach yourself.”

Especially when you’re in chains that are further mutilating your ankle. She didn’t say that last part however. He wouldn’t care about those details.

“The guards?” Salvaterre prodded, there was something shining in those obsidian eyes of his that she couldn’t quite place.

“And give away all my secrets?” Elide laughed and finished off her final piece of bread. She would take the rest with her for when would undoubtedly wake up sometime later still hungry.

The Captain exhaled sharply in something that almost resembled a laugh.

“Do you--” Elide’s words were cut off by a loud shuffle outside the kitchen followed by a string of curses. She froze as the blood drained from her face. Was her uncle awake? He usually drank enough to keep himself knocked out for the full night.

Salvaterre held up a finger telling her to be quiet. She resisted the urge to not roll her eyes.

Slowly, the man edged to the main door of the kitchens, pausing just in the doorway. He cocked his head as he listened. After a minute he eased back from the door, his steps surprisingly light.

“One of your uncle's men,” Salvaterre said, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Elide nodded and gathered what remained of her bread. As she headed to the servants door she was surprised to find Salvaterre following her.

“What,” she said, “are you doing?”

“I’m supposed to be in my own quarters, not having clandestine meetings with Vernon Lochan's niece.”

“Clandestine meetings?” Elide practically shrieked.

Salvaterre shushed her as he ushered her into the narrow passage way. As he closed the door shut behind them, they both waited. At first, Elide was convinced no one had entered the kitchen, but then she heard footsteps, mutters, and the telltale curses of someone poking around.

Salvaterre eased back, making sure he stood fully in front of Elide to keep her from sight. Not that that was hard to do.

After a moment, the voices retreated and they were left in silence.

“Well now that that’s over,” Elide muttered, “good night Captain.”

Unfortunately, Salvaterre chose to follow her when she spun on her heel and headed down the dark and narrow corridor.

“I’m not leaving you to wander the manor alone,” he said, easily keeping pace with her jilted steps.

“I thought you wanted to avoid clandestine meetings,” she said. She threw him a mocking glare just to be sure her tone wasn’t missed.

“You’re not wandering around alone,” he repeated.

Elide cursed under her breath, not bothering to stifle her voice. They rounded a corner where she’d left her low burning oil lamp for when she’d return. As she collected it, Salvaterre remained quiet.

Cranking the wick so the light gleamed brighter, Elide led the way through the hall. The passage wouldn’t lead all the way to where her room was on the far west side of the manor, but it was a quick way of getting to the second floor. Many of the servants' passages were interconnected, but sometimes there was the issue of finding the right branch that broke off in one direction or another.

Not to mention the fact that Vernon had also decided that the servants, despite their lowly and pathetic stature, were not allowed secrets. He was making an effort to close off these passages. He wanted to know everything his servants did and letting them run amuck in the walls would not help him in his machinations.

“This way,” Elide told Salvaterre. She pushed against a part of the wall marked with a stylized book to mark the passage next to the library. The wall eased open silently.

She and Salvaterre left the passage to enter the main corridor of the manor. Elide had long since memorized the typical routes of the guards and servants of the house. She knew that rotation wouldn’t come by the library for another two minutes giving them just enough time to cross to the west side and the stairs there.

Behind her, Salvaterre remained silent, but she could practically feel his gaze boring into her. There would be hell to pay for this little venture, even if he kept his word and didn’t tell her uncle what she’d been up to.

“There are three men at your door constantly,” Salvaterre murmured as they climbed two flights of stairs to the fourth floor. They kept to the shadows, pressing into alcoves and statues at even the faintest noise.

Elide spared him a glance as she shifted away from his side after their last hurried pass into the shadows.

“I am well aware of that fact,” she said.

“Then how do you plan on getting in there unnoticed?” he pressed.

“Isn’t it obvious Captain? You’re going to help me.”

She winked, relishing in his scowl and climbed the last of the stairs to the fifth floor. Her ankle burned something furious, she’d kept her pace much quicker than normal as she didn’t want the Captain to say yet another thing about that.

The fifth floor west wing was more or less devoted to her. While Vernon didn’t see the point of allowing Elide free reign to her own quarters, all that was really at her disposal was the bedchamber and bathrooms. It was fine, Elide didn’t truly need all that space. It also led to less servants and less guards up here. Usually.

But Salvaterre was correct, there were three guards stationed at her door. When she’d first left she had the element of surprise and trickery on her side, but she wasn’t going to reveal all of that to the Captain. She didn’t trust him at all.

They came to the final corner that led to her main door. Elide paused, her heart pounding in her chest and in the pulsing scars at her ankle. Tomorrow would be miserable to try and walk.

“Alright Captain,” Elide said, turning to the brute.

He looked down at her, expressionless. Why was he so difficult to read? It was hardly fair. Elide passed him her oil lamp.

“You go first and draw the men after,” she told him, “I sneak past once you're gone. Simple as that.”

Salvaterre raised one brow. “Simple as that?”

“Yes.”

While his face remained utterly passive, the glowing lamp illuminated something in those depthless eyes. Elide found herself wanting to know what it meant. It was the same look as when he’d found her and Lilian dancing through the apple orchard. The same as when she’d told him to bugger off while trying to escort her to the village.

Maybe this was what made him so well sought after as Captain--his careful expressions, his unknowable gaze.

“You’re staring,” she told him.

“You’re a bit insane,” he replied.

Elide grinned. “Of course I am. You haven’t completely ignored the gossip, have you?”

With that, she grabbed his arm and hauled him forward. Made of pure muscle and brawn, it was nearly impossible to get the man to move even an inch. He finally took pity on her and cursed before rounding the corner.

Elide pressed herself into the shadows, ducking down between a giant decorative vase and wooden table.

“What’re you lot doing?” Salvaterre demanded in his deep, coarse voice.

There was the sound of men scrambling to their feet, weapons being half drawn then sheathed then drawn again.

“C-captain Salvaterre?” one of the guards asked, a young one by the quaver in his voice.

“You idiots, sleeping on the job?” The sneer in Salvaterre’s voice was impossible to miss even when she was tucked away. “On your feet and come with me, there was something down on the third floor. Now!”

In a matter of seconds, the three guards were scrambling after Salvaterre as he led them back down the hall and to the stairs.

Elide waited a few heartbeats before leaving her spot. She limped to her door and stuck her lock pins in the key hole. She glanced over her shoulder where the Captain had gone. Strange, that man. It didn’t help that she had the undeniable feeling that something had indeed shifted tonight. She just couldn’t tell if that was a good or bad thing.

...

hopefully we’ll see more of this au coming around at some point!

taglist

@morganofthewildfire // @aelinchocolatelover // @sexy-dumpster-fire // @bamchickawowow // @ireallyshouldsleeprn // @courtofjurdan // @sassys-world // @sleeping-and-books // @superspiritfestival // @chieflemming // @julemmaes // @lysandra-ghost-leopard // @firestarsandseneschals // @rapunzel1523 // @booksofthemoon // @fangirlprincess09 // @highladysith // @tillyrubes10 // @bri-loves-sunflowers // @rowaelinismyotp // @sheharahu // @1islessthan3books // @fromthelibraryofemilyj // @vanzetanze // @jlinez // @foughtconquered // @thenerdandfandoms // @acciowests // @cassianscool // @thegreyj // @acourtofsjmtrash // @story-scribbler // @hellasblessed // @rowaelin-cressworth // @jesstargaryenqueen // @amoretheiwa // @jorjy-jo // @danibutterr @live-the-fangirl-life // @foreverfallingforthestars // @strangevil321 // @pastasiren // @beanco8 // @whimsicallyreading // @infernoqueen19 // @mis-lil-red // @lemonade-coolattas // @themoonthestarsthesuriel // @scribbled-semantics // @realbookloverproblems // @ghostlyrose2 // @rainbowcheetah512 // @tanvee1231 // @bri-loves-sunflowers // @captain-swan-is-endgame // @mystic-bibliophile // @cretaceous-therapod // @swankii-art-teacher // @thisloveseternal // @gracie-rosee // @bananaanna23 // @goddess-aelin // @liars-lmao // @emily-gsh // @rowaelinrambling //

#elorcan #elide lochan #lorcan salvaterre #elide x lorcan #tog #throne of glass #fanfiction #throne of glass fan #bodyguard au #more coming soon #hopefully #fanfic #elorcanweek2022

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thevisibilityarchives · 2 years ago

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On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous (2019), Ocean Vuong

BIPOC, LGBTQIA+

Summary: In a series of letters, Little Dog recounts love, loss, and the life that haunts and inspires him as a first-generation Vietnamese-American in Ocean Vuong’s debut semi-autobiographical poetic novel.

Full review: Since the 2010s, the ongoing “Culture War” in the United States has redefined the “Immigrant’s Story”, reframing the idea of the hard-working Bootstrapper Mythos with that of the more sinister vampiric leeching of resources.

No longer are immigrants the proud Europeans sailing across the ocean blue with mere pennies in their pockets that they can turn into millions, but the brown-skinned Spanish speakers from beyond the border, determined to steal jobs, food, and women from the mouths of those Europeans descendants, while bringing forth waves of crime in their wake.

This is the narrative which has driven much of the Conservative party’s rhetoric, and the very image of immigration that has taken shape over the years, despite the fact that people from all walks of life support our country and culture in various ways simply by being here.

Melting Pots like the U.S., Brazil, and the U.K. have sordid colonial histories built upon the suffering of many, but today also support vibrant populations alive with millions bringing different languages, foods, stories, music, skills, and histories that are ultimately unappreciated in homogenous cultures.

Ocean Vuong is one such individual.

Born in Ho Chi Min City (formerly known as Saigon), his mother was the product of the relationship between an American soldier and a sex worker during the Vietnamese War. Through a series of unfortunate events, the two were separated and unable to travel back to the States together leaving Vuong’s family behind while his grandfather returned to the country, unaware of what became of his lover.

Vuong tells his story through a fictionalized version of himself, spinning threads that elaborately span three generations from the chaotic and frenzied wartime days of his grandmother Lan, to her daughter Hong, to Little Dog’s own experiences upon moving to Hartford, Connecticut, and attempting to assimilate.

In many ways, the novel is a stark reminder of the ways in which many narratives continue to perpetuate the Model Minority Myth, envisioning the lives of AAPI immigrants as a wealthy and successful group, integrating themselves into society to attend Ivy League schools, gaining employment within medical offices and tech companies, and investing heavily in cryptocurrency and EFT portfolios.

This stereotype, which presents Asians as “studious”, and “ a group of naturally high achievers who are highly educated and highly successful”, has subconsciously wedged itself into the public perception of Asian Americans, often within the limiting context of those belonging to Chinese, Japanese, South Korean, and occasionally some South Asian groups. While some Indian and occasional Middle Eastern representation is included, often these portrayals are reserved for fair-skinned individuals, reinforcing standards of colorism.

This stereotype places an undue burden upon those forced to bear it, creating a so-called positive lens that boxes entire groups of people into a preconceived notion of who they should be. Not all people of Asian descent are naturally adept at STEM fields, and the expectation for them to excel academically has correlated with underdiagnosed cases of learning disabilities, high incidences of depression and anxiety in teens and young adults, and out-of-touch media portrayals such as Kevin Kwan’s Crazy Rich Asians.

The life that Vuong portrays is often fraught with pain, poverty, and despair, one that mirrors the lives of the black and brown-skinned individuals Model Minorities are pitted against upon moving to the United States. Poverty, isolation, abuse, and suburban ennui all are recurring themes he writes about with painful poise.

Still, Little Dog is able to find joy and peace in this life. There is the love of his grandmother Hong, the complex love he bears for his abusive mother, the burgeoning love for Trevor, his first queer tryst, his growing love for writing, the nail salon where his mother works, and the grandfather he reunites with.

Somehow, his story seems so fantastical, the mystic musings of a gay young man out of place and time, and yet he is one of so many. The black and brown, fair-skinned and in between, hungry and poor. Some become famed authors, others middle-class husbands and wives, and others are still claimed by the ravages of drug addiction, car accidents, plane crashes, and other misfortune.

The reality is: Little Dog’s story is not an exception, but one fiery star in a constellation often ignored in a culture that seeks to fetishize the AAPI experience, creating a stereotype that discounts the struggles immigrants face while attempting to turn them against other people of color in the process.

Vuong’s words are a source of power that brought him the opportunity to grow, tending a garden that has led him to various academic settings, prestigious publications, and beyond. On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous is a love letter in spades transcending the boundaries of time and connecting us on a different level: a human one.

Citations:

https://www.pbs.org/newshour/nation/white-u-s-immigration-policy

https://ideas.time.com/2012/09/07/the-myth-of-bootstrapping/

https://pacificasiamuseum.usc.edu/exhibitions/online-exhibitions/debunking-the-model-minority-myth/

https://www.nbcnews.com/news/asian-america/behind-model-minority-myth-why-studious-asian-stereotype-hurts-n792926

https://youtu.be/Cjzvvgmg1NU

#thevisibilityarchives #tva #representation #ocean vuong #diversity #books #poetry #lgbtq #lgbtq authors #gay writing #gay poetry #queer representation #queer poetry #aapi representation #aapi

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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 4 years ago

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Another One?!, Part 5

First > Previous > Next

It turns out that people with access to military-grade equipment are not the type of people you want to dislike you.

Really, the only reason she was still alive was because being Ladybug made her marginally more lucky than the average person.

From people in holding randomly getting out from time to time and somehow managing to get their hands on a weapon, to getting shot by ‘malfunctioning’ firearms, to constant bomb threats, to the one time someone actually tried to drop an anvil on her head, things were just not looking good for Marinette.

And, it turns out, being a boss is just a hard thing in general. When they weren’t attempting to kill her, they were coming to her with questions. She spent most of her day in the office, scanning through manual after manual. She got basically zero breaks, because even when she had a sign on her door saying she was eating lunch they still came in to ask her things.

And then, at the end of the day, she’d get home… things weren’t great there, either.

Barbara had moved in after a year of dating Dick (Marinette had been stunned to learn that their relationship was actually real but that had quickly been dropped when she realized that Barbara was actually a responsible adult that could take care of herself). She had banned caffeine in the house when she’d seen Marinette and Tim’s coffee habits and, unfortunately, everyone else had been perfectly happy to enforce this for her.

This meant that she only had about four hours when she got home to patrol before her exhaustion caught up with her and she’d be forced to go home and collapse on the couch.

On top of that, tensions in the house were high. It turns out that one of the biggest problems with avoiding your problems for years is that emotions get pent up inside and it gets harder and harder to ignore. No one had completely snapped yet, but even the densest person in the world would have been able to recognize that it was coming.

It didn’t help that she no longer had time for baking, which was her normal way of relieving stress…

And let’s just say they were lucky none of them were going on patrols together, those kinds of high-stress situations do not help.

Adrien needed sleep.

He worked ten hours a day, which isn’t that much longer than average but was still emotionally taxing considering his job was teaching.

Then, he’d go on patrol for a few hours. He liked patrol, beating up random people is great for stress, but it was physically exhausting.

Then, he’d come home.

And he’d have two kids and an adult to keep alive.

(Barbara had the night shift, which meant that Adrien was alone for this. He swore it was on purpose.)

He’d go to his room and find Dick swinging around on the indoor gym they’d had installed (they were getting tired of him breaking light fixtures and had given in and put little hand and footholds on the ceiling for him to climb around on).

And then Dick would fall asleep, often hanging from the ceiling still, and Adrien would pick him up and take him to his room and tuck him in.

He’d rush back to his room, desperate to get there for just a second of sleep, only to find that, no matter how quick he was, Jason would already be on the bed. You would think that Adrien would be able to sleep. After all, Jason would be reading a book... that’s supposed to be a quiet thing…

Well, you see, the problem is that Jason reads books like people watch soap operas. He’d curse out characters and call them stupid, tell Adrien contextless jokes, and occasionally close his book to vent about what was going on.

And, eventually Jason would sleep. Adrien wouldn’t move him because a) it would wake him up and b) on the very small chance it didn’t wake him, Jason sometimes half-joked that when he woke up alone he feared that they’d left him behind…

So, yeah, Jason got to stay in the room.

Adrien would blink and then he’d find Tim in the door with his computer.

Tim, it seemed, would actually wait to see if Adrien was okay with it if he came in. He always stood in the door, hugging his laptop to his chest, and wouldn’t dare come inside until Adrien said he could.

Of course Adrien would sigh and nod his head yes, making a joke about how his kids were sleeping in shifts to annoy him, and move over on the bed a bit to let Tim on.

And then Tim would do homework or play games on his computer.

Adrien hated the sound of clicky keyboards. He’d had no clue he was alone in this until one day he complained about it and everyone in the room had stared at him like he was crazy.

But, yeah, the keyboard made him want to die. He just wanted to sleep...

And then Barbara would poke her head in after a long night’s work to tell Adrien that it was time for him to get ready for work.

Sprinkle in one or two probably life-threatening accidents and you’d have a typical night for him.

Now, you might be thinking, why doesn’t he just fall asleep on the couch?

Beyond the fact that the kids would just… follow him there, Adrien was also a rich kid growing up. He couldn’t sleep on couches. They’re uncomfortable.

No, now his only saving grace was the fact that Barbara didn’t have a way to monitor the coffee machine at his work.

… Oh kwami, he had become what he’d hated.

She dropped onto the bed -- she’d had enough energy to make it all the way there for once -- and glared at the mostly empty bulletin board on Antony Agoura. The man was smart, unfortunately, opting to keep his identity a secret as much as possible. He used a fake name. He wore gloves no matter what. He used solely cash…

And it wasn’t like she was going to be able to lure him out again. That had been an intimidation tactic, a way of saying ‘leave it alone or you’ll see exactly what I can do’.

And, as much as she hated to admit it even to herself, she was a little bit scared of him. For the first time since Zucco, the person she was facing knew who she was as a civilian, and she hated that she’d lost that advantage. Even if her family was better trained in self-defense than most, they weren’t invulnerable and they couldn’t be careful every second of the day.

Part of her was tempted to pack up and go on the run like they had done with Zucco… but the situations were different. With Zucco they knew they would eventually be able to catch him but with Agoura...

She closed her eyes, unable to look at it any longer.

Fuck. She was really screwed this time, huh?

She felt someone sink into the bed next to her and reached out for them. She didn’t really care who it was as she buried her face in their shoulder.

Sleep…

Less than a minute later, her phone buzzed to tell her that it was time to start cooking everyone’s meals for the day and she mumbled a curse before peeling herself away from the person. She squinted a little bit in the dark to see who it was. Tim.

She yawned and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “Want to cook with me?”

“I’d burn the house down.”

“Probably. Want to stand nearby and make sure I don’t fall asleep while cooking so nothing burns?”

He shrugged a little bit. “Don’t see why not.”

They both crawled out of bed and she used him for support as they made their way down to the kitchen.

Adrien had been on patrol when she’d appeared.

And ‘appeared’ was definitely the way to describe it. He’d been relaxing on a rooftop, giving himself a few second break to just breathe in silence for once… and then he’d felt a hand shaking his shoulder.

He fought the urge to jump or lash out, his head whipping around to look at the person who was shaking him.

It was… a girl?

Actually, she looked about Jason’s age, so maybe a woman?

It didn’t matter. She looked terrified. Her eyes were so wide it looked almost exaggerated, her lips drawn into a deep frown.

The more he took in about her appearance the more concerned he was. Her stance was wide, which likely meant she fought often. Her clothes were ratty and torn. The little parts of her skin that weren’t caked in dirt were split with cuts that were either infected or about to be infected.

He rested a hand over hers as gently as he could and looked at her. “How are you up here? Actually, that doesn’t matter. What’s wrong? Are you okay? Are you hurt? Is your family hurt?”

She waved her free hand around frantically. Wordlessly.

He raised his eyebrows.

“Do you not speak English? Or are you mute? Deaf?”

He realized all these questions weren’t going to get answers and he sighed. Crap, what could he do?

He mulled it over for a second before snapping his fingers. He held up a finger for one minute, then held up his hands and made a tiny ‘stay’ motion with them just in case, and then ran to the nearest convenience store.

He didn’t care enough to detransform. It got him through the line quickly, at least.

He found a pen and a pad of paper and returned to the rooftop…

She wasn’t there anymore.

He sighed, a mix of frustration and concern coursing through him. He closed his eyes and shook his head. He should get back to patrol. Maybe he’d find her and/or whatever situation she was trying to get his attention for…

He opened his eyes and actually did jump this time. She was right in front of him. What? He hadn’t heard her…

He shook off his growing unease and handed her the notepad and pen.

She frowned, her face a little more than confused. Had she never seen a pen and paper before? Surely that couldn’t be right…

Still, he gently took the paper and pen back and wrote a tiny question mark.

He handed it over again and she looked at the mark like she’d never seen it before. Maybe her language didn’t have question marks…?

Then she started doodling.

Well, his plan had been for her to write whatever it was down and he would see if his phone would translate it, but he guessed this would work, too.

The first drawing explained some of the girl’s problems with communication. It was a little doodle where the mouth and ears had been X-ed out. She couldn’t speak or hear… or, at least, that’s what he’d figured.

He searched his memory for his old sign language lessons. Unfortunately, though, sign language is something that has to be practiced. All he could do is fingerspell “U O-K?”

She didn’t seem to understand.

Fair enough. He was pretty sure he was using LSF, anyways, and he didn’t exactly know for sure how close that was to ASL… or whatever other language she could have known. He couldn’t really tell much about where she was from, her skin was covered in dirt, okay?

She started doodling the rest of her life story and he nearly punched something. Probably would have if he hadn’t been scared he’d startle her or scare her off.

Whoever her dad was, he was committed to killing him if he wasn’t dead already.

He smiled at her and tried to think of a solution. He couldn’t take her to the police. Even with Marinette in charge, there was only so much she could do to keep the kid safe. An orphanage wouldn’t accept her because he doubted she was a legal US citizen.

He sighed. Marinette was going to kill him…

He reached out a hand to her to tell her to follow and blinked in surprise when she actually took it. Wow. He trusted her.

He tried not to feel proud as he led her home. He probably should have been scared that she was a spy or lying, but he found himself trusting her…

Weird, but he had bigger problems.

He detransformed a little bit outside the house and slowly walked to the door. He pushed it open and cringed when it creaked. Please don’t be home…

Marinette shifted under her blanket and opened an eye to look at him.

He quickly pushed the girl behind himself and smiled at his wife. “Wow, it’s you. You’re home. Wow.”

“Yeah, amazing, right?” She rubbed her eyes and gave him a tired smile. “How was patrols?”

“Great. Uneventful. Definitely good.”

Her smile dropped into a frown. “You’re acting weird.”

“What? Me? Acting weird?”

“Yeah… are you coming inside?”

“Uh… no. Actually, I think I’ll go back on patrols.”

She clicked her tongue. “You’re hiding something. I’m too tired for this, Adrien. Fess up.”

He cringed a little bit and slowly led the new adoptee inside.

The girl clutched Adrien’s shirt sleeve anxiously. He did not think this was a good thing.

Marinette stared at the girl in front of her for a while before a way too wide smile crossed her face. “Adrien…” She began slowly, before shaking her head. Her smile widened, somehow. She looked up, her voice sickly sweet: “Hey! Sweeties! Come down here.”

The reaction was instantaneous. There was a mad scrambling noise and they appeared in the doorway, expressions frazzled.

“Whatever happened, it was Dick!” Said Tim before anyone could speak.

Dick gasped. “No! It wasn’t!”

Marinette gave a pleasant laugh. “You’re not in trouble. Boys, could you help her get cleaned up for me, please?”

“Why is there another kid? Why does he have another one?” Said Jason incredulously.

When neither parent answered, they started ushering the girl away.

She grabbed Adrien’s arm when he tried to disappear through the door with them. “Not. You. Transform, we’re going out.”

He tried not to look too scared as they both transformed. She kept a way too tight grip on Adrien as they made their way through the town, as if she thought he was going to suddenly run away.

Fair enough. He was absolutely considering it.

But he didn’t. That would only make things worse.

They stopped at a relatively abandoned part of town and she turned to him, letting go to cross her arms over her chest.

“Explain.”

Did she feel bad for the kid that Adrien had adopted? Sure. No one deserves that kind of life…

But that didn’t calm her down in the slightest.

She was trying to relax herself. Her lips pressed into a thin line as she heard him out to keep herself from yelling or interrupting, her nails dug into the skin of her palms to keep her grounded…

Adrien finished with a sigh and a “I don’t regret it, she was in trouble and it’s our job to protect civilians.”

She didn’t know why those words made her anger worsen. There was some sense in them, and yet she had to strain to keep her voice level when she spoke: “Just once, could you actually just own up to a mistake you make?”

“I’ll own up to a mistake when I actually think it’s a mistake!”

“Whatever.” She thrummed her foot on the floor. “We can’t keep adopting random kids, Chat, there’s only so much we can do!”

“They need our help!”

“Bullshit! You need them more than they need you! Newsflash! Helping a bunch of kids isn’t going to make your own childhood any better!”

Adrien flinched and she felt a twinge of guilt finally poke through the anger, but before she could apologize he was jabbing his finger in her chest.

“At least my terrible coping mechanism helps people! You want to pull trauma into this? What about the fact that we still can’t say Lila’s name? What about the fact that you refuse to make friends with people our age because you fear them leaving you?”

She winced and her face reddened. “Okay, but does that inconvenience you? No! At least mine is only self-destructive! Yours is going to drag the entire family down with you! We’ve already fucked up these kids for sure, but you just keep making it worse and worse by spreading our limited time thinner!”

“Shut up! What do you know? You hardly ever talk to them anyways! You’re always at work or asleep!”

“Really? And whose fault is that? If you’d just stuck to the actual plan B instead of going out and attacking all the cops in the GCPD there wouldn’t have been as much attention on what had happened!”

He rolled his eyes. “I’VE ALREADY TOLD YOU THAT I HAD TO DO THAT! IT WAS TO KEEP EVERYONE AWAY FROM THE SECURITY ROOM TO KEEP PEGASUS SAFE!”

“PLEASE! NO ONE WAS GOING TOWARDS THE SECURITY ROOM! YOU’RE JUST AN IMPULSIVE DICK!”

“ARE YOU REALLY CALLING ME IMPULSIVE?!”

“YOU ADOPT KIDS LIKE THEY’RE POKEMON! OF COURSE I’M GOING TO CALL YOU IMPULSIVE!”

“YOU’RE THE ONE WHO ALWAYS GETS IN RANDOM FIGHTS BECAUSE YOU’RE NEVER CAREFUL!”

She groaned and fought to make herself relax enough to speak without yelling. They were in a relatively abandoned part of Gotham but that didn’t mean that there was no one around. The last thing they needed on top of everything going on was to have their fight end up in the papers.

Adrien was clearly doing the same, because he was quiet for a long time before he spoke in little more than a whisper:

“Do you not want to be a part of the family anymore?”

She opened her mouth to say ‘of course I want to be a part of the family’, but no sound came out. She wasn’t sure why she was even hesitating. She cared about them, obviously. She wouldn’t be working so hard if she didn’t…

But it was definitely a lot.

She could only handle so much at once. Beyond the powers she was just a human, and supporting that many other people is hard. Especially considering she essentially had two jobs to keep up with, as well…

The longer she went without answering the more tears spilled over his mask. Still, he was waiting for her answer. He was waiting for some kind of verbal confirmation that she couldn’t do it anymore.

She reached up and gently cupped his cheeks, wiping his tears away with her thumb.

“Chat, I…” She swallowed thickly. “I don’t know how much more we can do.”

He hesitantly brought his hands up to rest over hers. “I know. I just… I can’t just leave them. They always look so sad.”

She’d fallen in love with Adrien for his kindness and now it was the thing that was threatening to tear their marriage apart.

But he’d fallen for her because of her problem solving skills. And she was determined to not let this be the one problem she failed to solve.

The problem wasn’t exactly that he was getting more kids. Marinette loved kids.

The problem was that they didn’t know if they could raise kids without messing them up too badly.

Part of it was that everyone in the family had had one or more big events that had traumatized them, and it looked like it was finally time that they started getting past it.

Could they even get past it at this point? It had been over two decades since Marinette and Adrien had originally gotten their traumas, what if it was too late? What would happen if they somehow did get over it? It had been a part of them for such a long time, what would they be without it?

And then there was the kids. Could they even get them to go?

It was worth a shot, at least...

And the other change they needed to make was to make more time for their kids.

Neither of them were going to give up their day jobs (Adrien wouldn’t and Marinette, unfortunately, couldn’t just yet). That meant that they either needed to get caffeine in the house or give up vigilantism…

Well, cross of the giving up vigilantism thing automatically. On top of just not being able to give up on the city they were in when there was still so much to fix, they knew it would only be temporary. They’d already tried to give up vigilantism. They simply couldn’t bring themselves to.

So that left trying to get caffeine past Barbara. The kids (outside of Tim) were very much against caffeine and they worked very hard to make sure neither Marinette or Tim ever managed to get their hands on it. From purposefully making sure Marinette and Tim couldn’t go anywhere without one of them to monitoring the break room camera at her work to make sure she didn’t drink any, the kids were determined to make sure Marinette couldn’t get her hands on anything.

But Adrien could. No one would suspect him.

She bit her lip. This wasn’t going to go over well. Getting Adrien to therapy AND make him get caffeine? Man, this was going to suck.

“Chaton… I might have an idea… but you’re going to have to hear me out…”

He and Marinette were arguing again, though this was far more light-hearted.

“We are not opening another portal. We’re already lucky enough that this dimension hasn’t collapsed on us, we aren’t testing it.”

He rolled his eyes and stopped scratching runes into the wall to glare at her. “Would you rather we let a girl-woman-female-you-know-what-I-mean room with a guy?”

“What about we give her Jason’s room and let Jason sleep with us? He comes into our room to sleep either way.”

“Jason still uses his room to store things.”

“This is a bad idea, Chaton…”

He grinned. “Mhmm.”

“This is what I meant when you said you’re stupidly impulsive.”

“Would you rather do it?”

“Sure.”

He rolled his eyes. “And that’s what I meant when I said you don’t care about your own health. It’ll be fine.”

She clicked her tongue and motioned for him to go on.

He finished scratching the last rune and sighed when he saw some weird tentacle monster slowly unfurling itself on the other side. He got to his feet quickly and raised his staff to fight it, only to cringe when he heard Dick and Jason scream downstairs.

“I’ll deal with that, do you have this taken care of?”

She winced. “Sure. Where exactly is the portal, to be sure?”

He pointed it out and then ran downstairs.

Jason was currently not having a good time, it seemed. The bottom half of his body had been swallowed by a hole in the floor and he was struggling to get a hold on the slick floors.

Dick was also there, screaming incoherently from one of the ceiling lights.

Adrien ran over and grabbed one of Jason’s arms and started slowly pulling him out of the portal. After a bit Dick snapped out of it and scrambled to help.

The three were panting by the time they managed to get him all the way out.

“What the heck what the heck what the heck what the heck --,” Dick mumbled, holding his heart.

Jason, though just as shaken, seemed to be getting over it quickly. “How do we fix that?”

“Don’t remember, ask your mom,” mumbled Adrien as he crawled over to the portal on the floor and peered down.

It was a tiny group of people crowded around a computer.

Wait, what the heck were they wearing? Were they cosplaying as vigilantes? They definitely had the tacky outfits down if they were but Adrien didn’t know who they could be. Well, it had been a long time since they’d visited the Justice League, maybe he just didn’t know them…

He cleared his throat awkwardly and flashed them a blinding smile.

“Um… sorry about this, we’ll fix it as quickly as possible.”

“Was that… was that Dick Grayson?” Said the tallest of them.

Was he dressed as a bat? Why was he dressed as a bat? Dressing up like animals wasn’t technically their thing but on the other hand it was absolutely their thing. Adrien was almost offended.

Wait, he’d said something. He tried not to go pale when his brain finally processed it. This wasn’t exactly how he’d wanted the world to find out their identities…

“What kind of name is Dick Grayson? Ha! Lame!”

Dick sent him an affronted look from where he was on the floor. Adrien gave him an apologetic smile and a shrug.

Jason came back down with a baking pan. “Mom said to drop something through, so…”

“What’s that?”

“Brownies.”

“You’re dropping our brownies down there? Are you trying to kill them?” Asked Dick.

Adrien blinked once then sighed. “It could have worked for once. Be nice.”

Jason scoffed. “It didn’t. She forgot sugar. That’s why we’ll give it to them.”

“Sorry about this!” Said Adrien as Jason dropped the pan through the portal.

As promised, it closed now that something had been sacrificed.

The three looked at each other for a few seconds before Dick looked away and said, “So… pretend this never happened?”

“Yep.”

She cursed as she fell back on the couch, never mind the fact that Adrien was already laying there. Her husband made a quiet ‘oof’ sound as she dropped on top of him. She was hopped up on caffeine and ready to bond with her kids but the problem was that the kids, in fact, had lives.

The little time that Marinette and Adrien didn’t have work was taken up by patrols, by Jason’s homework, by Tim’s extracurriculars, by Dick’s job...

“There’s still not enough time.”

“We might have to stop being vigilantes for a bit…” He said, though he sounded reluctant. “Or rotate off by day…”

She didn’t like the idea either, but it didn’t seem like they had much choice in this if they wanted to be better for their kids. They’d already had to cut back on vigilantism because of their jobs and need for sleep, could they really cut it out of their lives entirely? Just like that?

No, there had to be something they could do. The city was still the most crime ridden city in the world. They couldn’t give up on it.

But then what to do…?

She watched Tim stumble in with a dislocated shoulder and squeaked, pushing herself off of her husband and rushing over.

“Shit! What happened?”

“I… might have messed up a boomerang-horseshoe-thingy catch and it might have hit me in the shoulder.”

She clicked her tongue. “Right. I’m going to reset it on three. One, two --.”

Tim gave a grunt of pain as she pushed his shoulder back into place.

“You should have told someone, how long were you fighting with a dislocated shoulder?”

“A little while…”

She shook her head and glanced at Adrien to give him the ‘kids, right?’ look, only to find him lost in thought.

He snapped out of it and flashed her a grin.

“I think I have an idea. How do you feel about going back on patrols with partners?”

He stretched across his family’s lap as they waited.

Adrien, Marinette, Dick, Jason, and Tim all sat in a therapist’s office for family counseling. They would have invited Cass but the whole ‘not speaking’ thing made therapy difficult. They actually had invited Barbara, only to get shut down because apparently she didn’t want to ‘deal with all that mess’.

So, it was just them.

Well, I say ‘just’ like five people isn’t a lot of people to have in a single therapy session. The poor therapist looked like she was going to have a heart attack when she saw all of them waiting for her.

Good thing they'd chosen the shortest session...

“Um… Agreste?”

“Yep!” Said Dick, far too brightly for a therapy session but whatever.

“Cool… right this way!”

His family glanced at each other before shrugging and pushing Adrien off of their laps in unison. He pouted up at them from his new place on the floor, but no one seemed all that guilty about it.

Marinette did reach out and pull him to his feet by the back of his shirt, though, so there was at least that.

They filed into the therapist’s room and took a seat on yet another couch.

Dr. Quinzel smiled at all of them. “Okay, does anyone have anything they’d like to start us off with?”

The family eyed each other warily. They were here as civilians, so they had to make sure not to slip up and talk too in depth about most things…

“Jason keeps calling me ‘Replacement’!” Said Tim, finally.

Marinette and Adrien frowned at Jason, who was attempting to sink into his hoodie.

“Well, we definitely didn’t know about that…” said Marinette.

“Of course you didn’t!” Said Jason. “You’re hardly ever around!”

Tim sighed. “They’re just busy.”

Adrien flinched. That was way too close to the excuse he used to make for his own father for his liking. Were they really that bad? Sure, he and Marinette were definitely not around as much as they’d like to be, but they were making an effort… did that really matter, though?

“No, Jay is right. We’ll try and do more. We’ve talked about how we’re going to free up time for you guys recently, actually. We’re hoping to include you more in our...” He glanced at Dr. Quinzel. “... hobby. Do more things with you in general, really.”

Marinette nodded her agreement.

She glanced at the boy’s faces and then clicked her tongue. “Anyone have problems they want to share?”

“No, our family is perfect how it is!” Said Dick brightly, his gaze fixed on the window.

Adrien followed his gaze to make sure nothing bad was going down on the streets and then sighed. “Dick, there has to be something. You’ve been just as tense as the rest of us recently.”

“Nope! Everything’s great!”

Everyone else exchanged skeptical looks but they couldn’t really feel comfortable pushing --.

Dr. Quinzel frowned a little bit. “Okay. We’ll come back to you when everyone else has had their say, then. Hopefully you’ll be more comfortable then.”

Dick gave a charming smile. Dr. Quinzel didn’t seem all that perturbed as she turned to look at Marinette.

His wife pursed her lips tightly as everyone else’s eyes went to her and she smoothed out the front of her dress. “We’ve already talked about this one-on-one, but… I think Adrien could maybe think a bit more before doing things. Or, at least, he should tell me when he makes major decisions like adopting kids.”

Dick’s smile dropped instantly. “Are you really complaining about not being told things? You guys tell me nothing! I have to figure everything out myself!”

Everyone startled a little at the sudden change of heart and gave each other wary glances before finding their way back to Dick.

The man in question had pushed himself to his feet (Adrien whined a little bit about losing the person to lean against) and started pacing. “You even ask Barbara things before me! It’s like you think I’m stupid!”

“Sweetie --.”

“Dont!” Dick sighed and came to a stop. He shoved his hands into his pockets. “It’s fine, it’s just… don’t you trust me?”

Marinette and Adrien looked at each other before nodding.

“Of course we do,” he said gently. “We’ll talk more about this at home, okay? When we’re not in the present company?” He looked at Tim and Jason, but he meant Dr. Quinzel. That was a hard subject to tiptoe around.

Dick took a seat on the armrest, likely so he could get up again without disturbing anyone.

Dr. Quinzel nodded. She looked at Adrien, and he fought the urge to try and hide behind Jason. She looked way too smart for his liking, it felt like she knew just by looking at him exactly what was wrong with him...

“I…” He struggled to find the words in French, let alone in English. “... think I try and get a lot of people in the house so I never have to be alone for long. I used to be alone all the time. I can’t do that again.”

Dr. Quinzel nodded thoughtfully. “It seems that all of you feel excluded or lonely in some way. Thankfully, that means all of you are the solution to each other’s problems. But, also, I suggest branching out some. Family is good, but so are friends. Everyone understand?”

They all gave each other wary looks, but they smiled all the same.

“Great, we can have a session again in a month or two to check your progress. That’ll be $7000 --.”

Marinette met her husband’s eyes and they exchanged nervous looks before walking into their room. As expected, Jason was already there. He was ready for bed, it seemed, with his pajamas on and his book out.

They took seats on either side of him and each took a hand.

“Jay…” Began Adrien. “We don’t love you any less because you’re not the newest kid anymore.”

“I know…”

Marinette bit her lip and pressed a tiny kiss to his forehead. “We’re not lying. And you don’t have to, either, just tell us why you think that.”

Jason looked at both of them warily before sinking into his shirt. It didn’t work as much as it did when he was wearing a hoodie or turtleneck, but it still worked surprisingly well.

She looked at Adrien nervously and he took the lead again:

“The reason we tend to focus on the newest the most is because they usually have the freshest problems. When we first got you we focused on you more than Dick because you were still struggling with old habits you picked up while homeless, and he was mostly over what had happened with his original parents.”

Marinette nodded. “And when Tim came in we focused on him because he was dealing with realizing his parents weren’t great and adjusting to a family who loved him. Now we have Cass, who… will definitely need some extra care…”

Jason sniffled a little and nodded his understanding. “I know you have to, I just… it feels like you don’t want me as much anymore...”

“No way!” Marinette said, squeezing his hand tighter. “We love you, sweetie, you’re just as much our kid as any of the others.”

Adrien smiled. “Exactly. You’re stuck with us, whether you want to be or not.”

Jason gave a wobbly laugh before slowly drawing them in for a hug.

“I love you, too, guys.”

They hugged him back.

“... and I’ll go easier on Tim.”

“Thank kwami, I didn’t want to ruin the moment by bringing it up, but… yeah, be nicer to Tim, please,” said Adrien half jokingly.

Marinette grinned. “Maybe give him a nicer nickname, at least?”

“How about Timbers?”

“Uh…”

“Timberly?”

She clicked her tongue. “How about just Timmy? Or Tim?”

“No, no, I think I’m on to something.”

Adrien stared in disbelief.

“You… you did what?”

Dick fiddled with a Rubix cube. Adrien wasn’t sure if that was just to help stay concentrated on the conversation or so he could more easily avoid eye contact.

“I joined the mob two years ago because I wanted to be more in the loop…”

Adrien and Marinette exchanged exhausted looks.

“Don’t be mad! I’ve been rising in the ranks for years now, eventually I’ll be close enough to Agoura to help you guys!”

Marinette sighed lightly and shook her head. “Sweetie, we aren’t mad.”

Adrien raised his eyebrows. “Yes we are.”

“You’re right. We’re mad. But we’re going to let this one slide.”

“No, we aren’t.”

“I can’t read minds!” She said, then she shook her head again. “Look, we just want you to be safe.”

Adrien nodded. “The reason we don’t tell you much isn’t because we don’t trust you, it’s because we don’t like involving you guys in dangerous things when we can avoid it.”

“But Barbara --!”

“We asked her about her opinion on one thing. She actually gave the same answer as you, and we turned her down, too. We’re sorry that you felt like we didn’t trust you, though, that wasn’t ever our intent.”

“And, besides,” added Marinette. “You have a tendency to snoop. We always figured you’d learn everything on your own.”

They took a seat on either side of Dick on the couch and wrapped him in a hug.

Dick beamed as he hugged back.

“... you’re still in trouble, though. That was stupid and dangerous and neither you nor your siblings can never do that again,” said Adrien.

Dick started whining.

Marinette bit her lip anxiously as she looked at her phone. All it would take was one click to call, but…

Adrien sighed beside her and reached over. He took the phone and pressed to call, then tossed it back at her.

She panicked, juggling the phone in her hands as it dialled. Nononononononono don’t pick up don’t pick up --

“Hello?” Said Nygma.

Fuck!

She looked at her husband anxiously.

“This or the Justice League,” mouthed Adrien.

She squeaked and brought the phone to her ear. “Nygma! Hi!”

“... Hello?”

“Hey! I’m a bit bored, so… I was just wondering if, um, you want to do something as…” she wheezed. “... as um… as…”

“I don’t really have anything prepared right now, I’m still waiting on that shipment of penguins...” The Riddler seemed confused, which was a first.

Was she a little concerned about whatever Riddler was doing with penguins? Sure. Then again, this is Riddler she was talking about. What was he going to do? Steal one of her ninja kids and then tell her exactly where they were? Whatever.

“No no! Like um…”

“Friends?”

“Yes! That!”

Adrien rested his head in his hands with a deep sigh. She flipped him off despite knowing he couldn't see it.

“I guess my schedule is free until the penguins come in... Sure! Want to go try an escape room?”

“No, I do an escape room every time I see you. I’m making you a new outfit.”

Adrien and Riddler both groaned.

She smiled.

He hesitated, messing with the strap of the bag over his shoulder.

“The city might need me --.”

“The city will be fine for a week,” said Marinette.

“The kids might need me --,” he tried, only to get silenced by a kiss.

She pulled back a little bit later. “It’s one week. Besides, we’re all doing what Dr. Quinzel said, and you’ve stalled long enough.”

He sighed. “For good reason! It’s a week alone! I’m going to go insane.”

“Chaton, we’re murderers. I think we crossed over that line a while ago.”

He cracked a grin, weak as it was, and pressed another kiss to her lips. “Are you sure --?”

“Yes! Oh my kwami! Now go!” She gave him a playful shove.

He raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms over his chest. “It almost feels like you’re trying to get rid of me.”

“And it almost feels like you’re stalling.”

She waved down a taxi for him and he couldn’t help but cringe as they took the bags from him. It made it feel much more real…

“I love you, Chaton, I’ll see you in a week.”

“I love you, too, M’lady.”

He waved at the kids long after they had disappeared over the horizon and he sighed as he sunk back in his seat. He knew it was for the best, he needed to learn how to function as a person on his own, but…

It was only a week. Only a week.

Besides…

He looked down at the coordinates of the last known location of David Cain (it was amazing what Tim, Barbrara, and Marinette could do when angry enough).

He wasn’t going to be bored, at least.

She turned away from the cake she’d been decorating and nearly screamed when her eyes landed on Cass. She hadn’t even noticed her walk in.

Marinette forced herself to relax.

She glanced over the tiny girl in front of her and bit her lip. She was wearing a mix of different shades of black which…

She suppressed a shudder. The outfit was okay, if she was being honest, but it definitely needed a splash of color.

“Right, that’s it, we’re finding you some new clothes.”

Cass looked at her blankly.

Right. She didn’t speak language. Marinette pursed her lips as she tried to think of some sort of movement that would convey what was going on, then settled for reaching out a hand for Cass.

She couldn’t help the smile that broke across her face when the girl took her hand. She trusted her! Score!

She hesitated for a minute before yelling: “SWEETIE! I mean… JASON! COME ON WE’RE GOING SHOPPING YOUR CLOTHES ARE GETTING SMALL FOR YOU!”

There was a few seconds’ pause before Jason poked his head in. He glanced at the two of them and frowned, sinking a little bit into his hoodie. “You noticed?”

“I… don’t even know how to respond to that. I’m a designer, of course I noticed. If you want to keep going for the grunge look that’s fine but you need to up your size.”

Jason nodded.

She rested her arm around his shoulders (something that was very hard for her to do now that he was both taller and wider than she was) and pulled the two kids out to the mall.

Jason was getting used to buying things for himself. He still resisted a little bit when people spent money on him or asked what he wanted, but he was making progress.

She pressed a kiss to his cheek and handed him a credit card. “Buy what you want. Remember the PIN?”

“Mhmm…” said Jason. He sent a wave over his shoulder as he made his way over to the men’s section.

She hummed lightly as she walked through the girl’s section to look for things for Cass. The girl was short and skinny for her age -- she was determined not to think about it for too long -- and she could easily fit in kid’s clothes…

But no kid of Marinette’s would have a shirt with the words ‘Girl Power!’ or ‘I love tacos!’ on it.

She helped pick out different shades of black shirts and jeans for the girl, mulling over the different colors she should give her. Yellow and red matched her skin tone but she doubted the kid wanted anything bright…

Marinette settled for giving Cass a blue scarf and some gold accessories.

She smiled and offered them to Cass, only to pale when the girl burst into tears. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck --

Cass hugged Marinette around the middle and buried her face in her chest and Marinette was just very confused.

Jason came back with two bags of new clothes and he blinked a few times as he took in the new situation.

“What the fuck happened?”

“I don’t know!” She hissed back, waving her hands vaguely. “She’s crying and I can’t even ask what’s wrong!”

“We need to teach her a language,” mumbled Jason.

“No shit, Sherlock!”

“Fuck off, Watson!”

She was getting judgemental looks from fellow shoppers now. Great. Amazing, even. She rested an arm around Cass and then used the other hand to flip them off. How dare they judge how she parented her kid she just met.

She waited until Cass was done to pull away and lean down to check her face. Even if she couldn’t really speak, her expression should be a good gauge of what was wrong --.

Cass gently took the items from Marinette and flashed her a blinding smile.

Damn it. Now Marinette was going to cry. This kid was so cute.

She leaned over and gently pressed a kiss to Cass’s forehead.

HER kid was so cute, she reminded herself as she led her along to .

She helped her wrap the scarf around her neck. Was it kind of hot out? Yes. Was Cass super cute with her mouth hidden behind the fabric? Also yes.

She glanced at Jason, who was also smiling a little bit despite not having all the attention.

His smile dropped at her next words, though:

“I know you still have my card. Hand it over.”

“Fuck.”

It turns out ASL is hard.

It also turns out that teaching ASL, while you’re still learning it yourself, to a person who doesn’t even comprehend language is even harder.

Weird how that works out.

They started with simpler things. Everyday objects, basic emotions, the first letters of their names so she could say who she was talking about. It was a slow process, especially because they often would take two days per lesson because of everyone’s conflicting schedules.

But it was a process.

And he thought the family was doing pretty well, too. It probably helped that Cass was, at least so far, the nicest person in the house and none of them wanted her to be sad or lonely.

Look at that. They were working on making her not feel excluded. Progress! Dr. Quinzel would be proud.

Marinette paused her walk to the kitchen when she saw blonde hair. Adrien had blond hair, but he was still out on patrols with Dick so…

She turned and looked at the person on the couch with Tim. “Please, kwami, tell me he didn’t get another one when we just started making progress.”

Tim barely even looked up from his computer. “No, just my friend, Steph. She’s here because she thinks I’m sad my parents died.”

“Oh, oka --.” Marinette took a step back. “Hold up, what?”

“Yeah, they were killed by this guy in Haiti. I was sad about it for a while but then I was like ‘wait a minute! I can just kill him back!’ Anyways, it’s all good now.”

Steph didn’t seem all that perturbed about the murder thing, so she brushed past worrying about their identities or, y’know, her kid getting prosecuted...

Marinette pulled out her phone. “Yeah, Dr. Quinzel? I’m going to need to schedule another appointment…”

Tim frowned. “I’m fine, Mari.”

“Oh! Yeah! This isn’t for you… but, Steph, he doesn’t have anything going on Friday night, right?”

“I’ll make sure he’s free.”

She nodded. “Thanks, sweetie. Want anything to eat?”

“Guys! I’m fine! I got my revenge! I feel great!”

“Of course, you do, Timmy. And… waffles?”

She continued her walk to the kitchen to finish up scheduling and make Steph waffles.

Listen, at this point Cass having a miraculous was a given.

He might as well make sure it was a good one that would come in useful. And, it kind of matched her fighting style of predicting people’s moves to have one that allowed her to go five minutes into the past. She’d be even better at predicting people’s movements if she’d seen them before!

Besides, she liked the color blue. Perfect fit.

Marinette had agreed to train her, but Adrien was the one to take her out on patrols with him.

It was good to have people with different fight styles together, it made solving problems easier. Adrien paired with Dick and Cass, Marinette tended to pair with Jason, and Tim would tag in on either side since he had no real consistent fight style (he liked to change based on his opponent).

Besides, with group patrols they got to spend more time with their kids! They were nothing if not efficient people.

He and Cass sat on the rooftop across from the building Agoura had asked to meet Dick in. There was a low chance it was going to get violent, there should be no way that he’d know anything was off (Marinette and Dick had been publicly fighting for the past year to make it seem like they were on opposite sides), but it was better safe than sorry.

He watched Dick wave to Agoura and head off. Adrien and Cass watched carefully for any sign that they were suspicious, that they were going to do something underhanded, but Agoura just turned and started heading off into the night.

When his oldest son came up to sit with them, he had a thought. He glanced at Cass and made a swiping motion on his wrist.

She nodded her understanding.

They waited for Dick to transform before following Agoura and his goons. Five people were with him, but that wasn’t actually that bad by Agoura standards, so...

“Y’know, if he gets suspicious of me because of this, I’m never going to forgive you,” said Dick.

He shrugged absently, then broke into a wide grin when Agoura turned down an alley. “Living hotel to hotel wasn’t that bad back in the day.”

“Hm. I disagree, but…” The three of them exchanged grins as Cass activated her power. “Let’s do this.”

Dick brought his flute to his lips and played a high-pitched note that made Agoura and his goons stop in their tracks. Duplicates of each vigilante slowly spread out over the rooftops, as well as a replica of Dick.

The vigilantes and their fakes dropped down to surround the group and Cass suddenly reached out and jerked Adrien’s hand. He almost complained but then a bullet soared past where his head had just been and he went pale.

He squeezed her hand once as thanks and then pulled away so he could activate his Cataclysm.

Doubles went after the goons while Cass went to work disarming people. It was kind of creepy how she disappeared into the shadows without any help from Dick, but no one said anything because it was useful. She would pop out of shadows and break arms and legs to put goons out of commission.

Dick was giving himself an alibi. The fake lawyer ran into the action, only to get taken out by a fake Cass.

Agoura was making a run for it. Too bad, really, that he couldn’t exactly see anything that was going on. The world in front of Agoura was a mess of dumpsters and trash bags that he was struggling to run around. Adrien, who knew for a fact that everything was either fake or light enough to brush away with his staff, followed after him at a calm pace.

He grabbed Agoura by the back of his tailored suit and smiled at him.

“Agoura! Buddy! Where are you going? I just want to chat!”

“Nice one!” Yelled Dick from somewhere in the chaos.

“Thanks, Robin!”

He tipped his head to the side and regarded the man in his grip. It was clear he didn’t really know that much self-defense, but he must have some kind of weapon hidden on him…

Cass seemingly materialized out of the wall nearby and threw herself at Agoura, a blur of blue and black, and the man was nearly knocked out of Adrien’s grip by the force. Then she pulled away with a gun and a few knives.

Adrien raised his eyebrows a little bit before sending her a smile. Yeah. It was definitely a good thing that he’d given her that specific miraculous...

He turned his attention back on the mobster, who was beginning to look a little pale.

“Don’t worry about it, I’m not here to kill you. You deserve way worse,” he said brightly.

He pressed his hand to the man’s wrist. He closed his eyes and forced himself to concentrate on just dissolving the wrist. It was kind of hard to do with the mobster screaming his head off. Kwami, you’d think he’d be quiet so Adrien wouldn’t dissolve him into nothing but apparently not…

The hand popped off and he let go instantly. He looked down and winced at the black webbing its way under the glove.

He glanced at the mobster nearby, who was still screaming, and rolled his eyes. He punched him as hard as he could and smiled when he fell to the ground in a heap by the hand. Good, now that that was dealt with...

He scrunched up his nose a little bit as he slowly peeled the glove off of the hand and then his face split into a wide smile. Thank kwami, he hadn’t ruined the prints.

He turned to his kids and found them waiting for him amidst a pile of bodies. He didn’t know if the henchmen were alive or not, but when he saw the tiny scrape on Cass’s cheek he decided he didn’t care.

He waved the hand at them.

“We got him!”

Listen, Marinette had considered staying commissioner…

For approximately two seconds.

The vigilantes had made their point in getting Agoura arrested (they gave him about four days before he ‘mysteriously committed suicide’ in jail thanks to either underpaid henchmen or old victims). They were done. It had been way too hard to even think about doing it consistently. No, murder was definitely the way to go.

She glanced over at Nygma. “Thanks for helping me pack up.”

“Well, I figured it would be nice to visit again.”

She nodded slowly and looked around her old office. Tomorrow there would be someone else in that chair, someone likely far more corrupt…

“Got a knife on you?”

“Obviously, but why?”

She shrugged and took it from his outstretched hand. She knelt down by the chair and sawed on one of the legs until she had taken off a tiny piece of it. She pushed on the chair and giggled a little when it wobbled. Yes. Perfect. That would be so annoying.

She tossed the piece of chair leg in the air and then caught it, sending Nygma a wink. “The budget here is terrible, it’ll take at least a few months to get a new chair.”

Nygma rolled his eyes and took his knife back from her. “Hm. And they say I’m the evil one.”

They each grabbed a box. His was full of personal items, hers was full of files on every person currently in the GCPD and every mobster and goon she could think of the name of.

“You owe me one escape room.”

She groaned as they slipped out into the halls. “Why? Wasn’t it enough to spit on the floor?”

“Nope! Spitting on the floor was payment for me showing up, you’re making me do manual labor so I get one hour of escape rooms with you.”

“Don’t you know every solution already?”

“A new one opened up across town!”

She clicked her tongue irritably but shrugged. “Fine. But only because I owe you, not because we’re friends.”

He rolled his eyes and then looked down at the box he was carrying. “Wow, it sure would suck if all these pictures of your kids just… fell.”

Her eyes widened. “You ARE the evil one!”

He raised his eyebrows.

“And… you’re also my friend.” She made a retching noise. “Kwami, I’m going to die.”

“What?! No! Only one of my traps is allowed to kill you!”

“Too late! I’m dying. I’ll never recover…”

“Nooooo…!”

He raised an eyebrow at the girl on his couch. He was pretty sure she was Tim’s friend but… she was definitely around a lot…

Whatever, he might as well at this point.

“Hey, how many parents you got?”

Steph didn’t even glance up. “Zero, thanks to you.”

He went still. Wait, was she saying this in the ‘my parent(s) was evil and you killed them’ way or the ‘they were civilians and they got caught in the crossfire and I blame you’ way?

“Um… did you like them?”

“No, he was a dick.”

He allowed himself to breathe. Cool. Great. That would have made everything difficult…

“Want to be adopted?”

Steph laughed a little and shrugged. “Do I get to be a vigilante, too?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Then... yeah, whatever.”

~~~

Taglist

@i-am-ironic @nathleigh @mialuvscats @golden-promises @sassakitty @deathwishy @toodaloo-kangaroo @ladythugs @moonlightstar64 @dahjokester @jjmjjktth

#another one?!#maribat #adrienette #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #adrien agreste #chat noir #dick grayson #nightwing #jason todd #red hood #tim drake #red robin #cassandra cain #orphan #damian wayne #robin

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chrichri-chan-18-love · 4 years ago

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Siren’s flame. (Yandere Dabi x Reader)

He never expected to meet someone so... beautifull. He never expected to see something so magnificent after all the horror he had gone through.

He had been running away from a very pesky hero who simply wouldn’t die no matter how many times Dabi’s flame came close to deliver the finishing blow. He entered a house that had a ridiculously large pool. He took a better look at the house and he could tell, someone rich lived here.

But then his attention shifted as he saw movement under the water, he was about to attack when you emerged from the water, a part of you upper form was covered in golden scales, they covered part of your chest, shoulders and slowly growing in numbers and size as the lower half of your body resembled that of a fish. Your (e/c) eyes opening and gazing at the sky for a brief moment before you turned towards the edge of the pool, dragging your body off the water and waiting a bit, just enough for your skin to be somewhat dry, thus resulting in your tail vanishing and a pair of lovely, inviting legs to appear.

Dabi hid in the shadows as he watched you wrap a towel over you naked form, then you headed inside, leaving the villain alone and with a very painfull boner.

“Shit... now what?” He growled, he tried to hear of what was going on outside the house, it was silent... a perfect chance to escape and go back into the League’s base. However he wrote down the address of the house and took a good look around the area... after all he was planning to pay that little beauty a visit in the future.

You were a well known singer, thanks to your quirk. Your quirk was called “Siren” and it was really usefull at times. Like when people would get pushy with you and demand more things from you, all you had to do was use the right volume and their mind would become cloudy, turning them into mind slaves of some sort. Then there was your form once you entered water, it was something that would appear in magazings after a large amount of your flesh was covered by some garments.

Your house was luxurious, yet the area that you loved most was your pool, there you would strip bare naked, jump in and enjoy swimming without anyone to disturb you. And then, the notes began appearing, at first they were simple and a bit sweet.

“Your hair looks especially beautifull today.”

“Your eyes are brighter than the sun and the moon.”

“Hope your day is as perfect as you”

Soon, the notes were accompanied by small boxes, some had sea shells, others jewels that were mostly made of pearls, a small photo album for you to fill with pictures... you weren’t really worried about it. Maybe it was a fan, or a neighbor.

However, after a few weeks, they became invasive, creepy and scary. Making your blood run cold, your face pale and your heart beat faster in fear.

“I saw you swim in the pool again, your naked body makes me SO hard.”

“I want your moans to be as wonderfull as your singing when I claim that cunt of yours.”

“You shouldn’t hang out with that guy,babe. You don’t want to make me mad, right?”

Along with the notes, the gifts also began showing the fetish of the person sending them. Lingeries with dark colors and revealing patterns, short skirts, a bra made of sea shells along with a thin piece of fabric for your waist... but one time... it was that person’s seed, he had sent you his cum!

You were freaking out... but you didn’t know if involving the police was a smart idea, that person could be an experienced villain or maybe a police officer himself! You knew that you’d have to rely on your quirk to defend yourself... though it made you wonder, who was he?

Unfortunately, or fortunately for you... Dabi decided that the two of you should finally meet face to face... but he decided to surprise you... so, he waited until you had left for work before breaking inside your house for... well, even he didn’t remember anymore. He had entered this place so many times, he had eaten your food, taken a nap on your bed or couch, showered in your bathroom... and jerked off with your underwear more times than he could count. But, today would be special, his baby girl hadn’t gone to heroes or the police... so, she deserved a reward for being so good for him.

He coocked for you, not that he was an expert but he tried his best to make a tasty meal, he then waited patiently, taking a good look at the places where his gift had been placed. The jewelry were in a box on your dresser, the seashells were on display above your bed, the underwear and clothes he had gotten you were hidden in a box under your bed... he was pleased to see that you kept everything he had stolen for you.

When you did eventually return, you knew something was wrong. The second you opened your door and were greeted with the smell of food, you knew that your stalker was here... you took a deep breath, entered the house, hid the key and moved further inside. You looked over at your table and saw two plates of food, a bottle of wine, candles and a blue rose.

“Uh... I’m not sure how to react to that.” You said as you moved closer, the guy was either a sadist, the romantic type... or he was just messing with you.

“A simple “thank you” will be more than enough, babe.” A voice said from your left and you turned to face him. A normal person would have screamed upon seeing Dabi, either due to his reputation or his appearance. Yet you stood there, looking into his eyes and came closer... for some reason, the first thing that you said was.

“Your eyes are pretty, their color is so alive... they remind me of the sea.”

Dabi was surprised, he wasn’t exactly expecting that kind of reaction... but the fact that his baby girl was complimenting him was pleasant and endearing. He smirked and pulled you closer, looking at you with obsession written all over his face.

“Thanks babe, I like you too.” He said and then pressed his lips on yours, his hands grabbing your flesh with force and wondering around your body. Your first instict was too fight but knowing it’d be a bad idea, you answered his kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer.

“Dabi of the League of Villains, correct?” You asked and Dabi smirked at you.

“The one and only, nice to finally meet you, love.” He said and you raised an eyebrow.

“You sent me your cum in a box, why?” You asked and Dabi was getting all the more interested in you... your reactions, your questions were so uncalled for. He loved it!

“So you can see what will be filling your cunt for the rest of your life, baby.” He said and you hummed, you thought about getting rid of him using your quirk... but something about him attracted you... so, until you discovered what that something was... you’d let him have his way.

“Dinner first, fun later.” You simply said and Dabi smiled at your compliance, he couldn’t have chosen a better match for him.

“Only if you sing for me later, love.”

“Deal.”

And with that he used his quirk to light the candles and led you to the table, in his mind, this was the beginning of an everlasting love. In yours, the starting point of a dangerous game. Would you grow to love him? Maybe. Would you let him have you? You would be forced to eventually. So you might as well make the most out of the situation you were in.

“Babe?”

“Yes?”

“I love you.” At those words you looked at him and smirked.

“I will say it after I get to know you better, alright?” You said and he thought that it was only fair.

“Alright, but you’re mine, never forget that.”

You chuckled, he was like a little kid... it was a kind of cute.

“Am I?”

Those two words... they sealed the door to a world filled with lust, fire, love and obsession... you just didn’t know it yet.

#yandere #toya todoroki #dabi #bnha #Female reader #siren reader #singer/model #fanfic #stalking #romance #soft dabi #stalker #voice quirk

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foreverlostindreams · 3 years ago

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So many questions

“Tony that's not what happened!” Why was he the only one pointing that out again? They all would be free to go, so much faster, if he wasn’t the only one correcting all the crazy exaggerations the man was making. “Oh come on old man, why do you have to be so boring?” Tony wasted no time shooting back, while turning around to him “We spend nearly a week following every step of the plan Fury and his little friends here developed and now I can’t point out its flaws for two minut - what's that on your arm? Did you get a tattoo to fit in with the young kids?” Talk about turning around the conversation, if he didn’t expect some kind of distraction from the man, he would have gotten a whiplash. “Tony, can we just get this over with?” “Who is changing topics now?” “What are you even talking about?” “Your arm! You think I’m joking?” he gripped sayed arm and held it up into his view and everyone else's looks followed. Just in that moment new scribbles started appearing on his skin “Oh you just turned a lot less boring, star spangled banner” Tony concluded.

A few more inappropriate comments from Tony, questions from everyone and an intermission from Bruce, who led him away to deescalate the whole situation. Steve was storming a few steps ahead of the doctor right to his lab. “I was born nearly a hundred years ago, I should not be here. How can a soulmate connection start now?” he asked his most pressing question“Soulmates links cannot be concluded under any kind of logic, Captain. Some people have it, some don’t. Sometimes they show up early, sometimes later in life, sometimes it never does. And it might have started earlier for you as well, a lot of people draw and scribble a lot on their skin in childhood and teenage years. Hoping of course that they would get a reaction, if this was a person fitting your age now, not counting your - um time-out, that would have been approximately fifteen to five years ago, when you were - hm unable to notice it or return that favour.” Banner concluded. “But I shouldn't be alive! That person would have lived without a soulmate!” Steve seemed furious at that thought as Bruce noticed not without smiling a little. “Like I said, not everybody has a soulmate Captain. There were a lot more in your time but now, less and less people in each generation have one. Science is still trying to find out reasons for that, but not having one doesn’t mean people lead an unhappy life. Your person probably still believes themself one of those people.” he pointed out. “Let's also not get started on the discussion of what higher power or fate could be behind this, that would explain knowing you would wake up again in time, to be a part of this person's life.”

“So what is the Text?” Banner asked, when they were finally in the lab “Kiyosaki, rdpd, 2014” Steve read aloud, not grasping any kind of meaning from it “Jarvis?” “Rdpd is most commonly used as an abbreviation for the book Rich dad, poor dad by Robert T. Kiyosaki advised as lecture in most colleges for courses of finances.” “So a college student” Barner concluded “if we assume that he or she must be in a lecture right now, we can cross off all colleges that do not teach a fitting course or are in a fitting time zone. How many would that be, Jarvis?” “There are 5300 Colleges in the United states, in your chosen parameters are 1134 of those.” Steve's head was swimming, was this how he was supposed to find out about his soulmate? He could still just reply with a pen on his skin and hope to not scare off the person on the other end. But as Banner had mentioned, he had been quiet for years, what if his person had built a good life for themselves without him? Had he a right to just barge in? Being his soulmate would come with a lot of safety problems and needed changes for that person, would he want that?

Banner noticed his wandering mind. “If you want, I can continue searching without you.” he offered “If we find something, I will write it down for you and put it in an envelope. Then you can decide when you want to know. But Shield would need to know, there are certain protocols and measures for every soulmate of shield agents, if they know about us or not.” “Are there more out there, who don’t know, their soulmate is not answering, because he or she is a special agent?” “Unfortunately, yes. Like I said, I am not the biggest believer in fate, but I do believe, since soulmates exist, you would not be connected to somebody unable to handle you and your life. And making that decision for the both of you is quite the choice.” He very quickly noticed that he stuck his finger directly where it hurts and paddled back “Still, it is your life and your soulmate Captain, I am just a scientist, not a guru for the best life decisions. I mean, I turn green every once in a while.”

“Captain, Mr. Stark is calling a spontaneous meeting right now” Friday alerted him about a week of him wrecking his brain about the decision without a conclusion later. “Do we have a mission?” he asked, looking up from his sketches, ready to take off in seconds, only to relax when the AI denied. “It seems Mr. Stark has a visitor, he is excited to introduce to everyone.” Steve knew what was going on, before he even stood up, the white envelope Bruce handed him four days ago burned in the back of his mind and his anger boiled up the whole way to Tony's favourite of the meeting rooms in the compound.

“You had no right!” he pressed out in between his teeth the second he saw the man, trying to calm his need to scream at him. “I know you people who are as old as dirt feel like you have time, but you don’t so I was doing you a favor really capsicle.” he answered totally unbothered by his anger as always. “I would like to take this moment to say ‘ I had nothing to do with this, he hacked my user’ “ Bruce piped up and threw Steve a look full of apologie and pity. Nats look on the other hand was on Tony the whole time and made pretty clear that she as well had not known about this beforehand and was also not in favor with his doing. “Well we always knew he was an ass, but who would have thought, he was this overreaching.” she commented, voice full of poison. “Oh come on, as if you all were not interested who on earth could be the perfect match for our golden boy here.” he argued back “Being curious has nothing to do with what you did!” Even Pepper argued for Steve's side and while Tony threw his hands dramatically in the air, Steve realised something else.

“So you all have seen her already” “Finally you're focussing on the important things here, capsicle. Your soulmate is quite the view and from what her grades can say about intelligence, she -” “Will. You. Shut. Up!” Pepper finally hit him. “This has nothing to do with you or your opinions, you shouldn’t even be here.” and as if speaking those words out loud made her realise, she repeated “We all shouldn’t in fact.” She straintend her jacket, threw her soulmate another angry look and was back to business, hurrying everyone along, before Steve could vocalise his gratitude.

Finally alone he took a couple of deep breaths, before he felt like mostly himself again only to realise, he didn’t even know with what explanation Tony invited her here. Did she know, or was it all hidden behind some kind of white lie? How was he supposed to go about this? How not to offend her if she knew and he seemed to taken aback and how not to overwhelm her, if she didn’t know? When he entered the room it was without a plan, but knowing letting her wait any longer would definitely be insulting.

When their eyes met, he could not stop himself from agreeing with Tony, she was quite beautiful. “Hi, I’m Steve.” he clumsily started. “I’m sorry you had to wait - and also for anything else my friends or colleagues might have said to you.” he added after a second thought. She grinned back at him “I’m Y/N and don’t worry, I know the type. If my friends would have managed to figure out it was you, they would have stormed in here years ago.” Steve felt floored at her ease with the whole situation. “We are quite well equipped against intrusion” he heard himself say, before his mind even caught up. She laughed at that. “Against equipped fighters maybe, but the ways determined college students find? I don’t think anyone can plan for all those random and stupid ideas.” Steve felt himself starting to grin back at her, without really planning to. She was amazing. “Would you like to go to dinner with me? I fear we have quite a few cameras in here and a lot of noisy people.” he proposed, somewhere in the back of his mind still trying to figure out how to best keep her safe, while all the rest of him just seemed too busy admiring her. “I would love to. I have heard quite a few stories about you, that I need clarification on and even more questions.” And for the first time, Steve couldn’t wait to answer all of them and ask even more himself.

#steve rogers #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x fem #steve rogers soulmate #soulmate au #avergers soulmate au #steve rogers one shot #tony stark #bruce banner #pepper potts #first meeting

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mollymauk-teafleak · 3 years ago

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A Wedding in Paris

Trigger Warning: Light mentions of setting appropriate homophobia, alcohol use

“What’s a marriage anyway? Rings and a promise and a priest. And, the way I see it, two out of three requirements makes a good enough substitute for me. The law doesn’t want us so I say we don’t want it.”

Lucian and Stephen spend their first day in Paris, the first day of their new lives.

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Please leave a comment over on Ao3!

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Stephen had been nervous about Paris.

It was his first step outside of England, the first of a headlong sprint that was going to take him even further than he’d had the free time to read about in books. Paris was meant to be a gentle start, just a hop over the Channel, within three day’s reach of the country he’d grown up in all his life, but it had still frightened Stephen to imagine. A new city, a new soil, a new tongue. A new him, supposedly, a Stephen Day who wasn’t a justiciar and wasn’t alone but now had to find out where he fit into the world, starting with Paris.

It had taken him all of a day to decide he really, really liked it.

That day had consisted of waking up in a very expansive, comfortable bed, made all the more comfortable and slightly less expansive by the fact that he was sharing it with all six feet of his lover. Then he’d padded around the lavish hotel apartment he’d been too exhausted to take any notice of after yesterday’s boat ride, in a mix of wonderment and apprehension, until Lucien had woken and summoned him back to bed with a crook of a finger and a smile. Not all that different from his fonder mornings in London.

But then there had been bright sunlight, walks along boulevards familiar enough to Stephen that he could relax into the excitement of the chatter around him in unknown, lyrical languages, the smells of herbs he couldn’t name coming from the street stalls, the bright fabrics and colourful buildings. Then there was a park, open space and the smell of fresh cut grass and summer flowers, a museum with paintings from far away and long ago that Stephen felt he could fall forwards into, a patisserie with cakes that looked like perfect sculptures and tasted like heaven. Even the ether felt different, like rich velvet, less fettered by smog. There were smiles, laughter that made his jaw ache, a heart lighter than he could remember.

And through it all, more than anything else, there was Lucien. At Stephen’s side and smiling as he stared like the dumbstruck tourist he was, walking a few paces behind with a proud, patient chuckle while Stephen surged ahead to see something new, lounging beside him and explaining the ways in which French fashions differed to British fashions with each example that passed by. He indulged his little witch completely and for once Stephen didn’t argue or allow himself to become embarrassed by it, the cakes tasted too good for him to recoil at Lucien happily buying him as much as he could eat. It brought that smile of satisfaction to his lover’s sharp features, the warmth in his eyes that their troubles in London had made rarer than either would like.

And there were the touches.

The first time it happened, Lucien casually placing a hand on Stephen’s arm as they walked, he’d frozen in place. For a moment, he’d forgotten where he was, certain they were still in England and even a simple, friendly touch like that would get them spat at in the street. Lucien had taken his hand away quickly with an apologetic, understanding expression, endlessly patient with Stephen’s anxieties, willing to go slowly. Stephen appreciated it, his heart hammering in his chest until the next delight chased it away.

But then, sitting in the park, Lucien had made to reach for Stephen’s hand, stopping only at the last moment when he caught himself. His quick amber eyes had noticed and, for a moment, the fear jolted through him, a sour, metallic taste on his tongue. But only for a moment, the sugar and fresh air rushing back in and, with it, a sense of giddy courage. They were in the shade, dappled by the leaves overhead, and no one was looking their way.

And if they were, what of it? Lucien had promised Stephen a life of freedom. He’d told him they’d go places where everything about Stephen- his magic, the fact that he liked men- wasn’t something to be hidden and ashamed of. And every other impossible thing Lucien had promised was apparently true, so why not this?

So he’d joined their hands together, threading his fingers through Lucien’s larger ones until they knit together naturally. Not a manipulation of the ether, not a spell, just the honest scrape of rough, callused skin against his lover’s, scar brushing against scar, fingers slotting perfectly into the gaps between hair dusted knuckles. It had been Lucien’s turn to jolt in surprise but, God, the look he’d given Stephen put every wonder they’d seen into the shade.

Possibly that look, possibly the wild and welcome sense of freedom, possibly the fact that Merrick knew of a wine bar that didn’t close until one in the morning and served the most delicious ruby red burgundy and a very reasonable price, possibly a combination of all of these factors decided how Stephen’s first day in Paris ended.

Which is to say, piss drunk and dancing with his lover in an empty Parisian street at half past two in the morning. And happier than he could ever remember being.

“Lucien!” he cackled, clinging to him for dear life as he spun him around in what a waltz might look like through a haze of wine, “Lucien, I’m going to be sick!”

His lover laughed, finally letting them stop, moving into a slightly less disorientating four step that neither of them could really keep up with, “I thought you practitioners could hold your alcohol better than us mere mortals?”

“Not when it’s this much alcohol,” Stephen snorted, tilting his head back to watch the stars lurch drunkenly across the velvet blue sky, “God, Lucien, this place…”

“I know,” Lucien purred, catching him in the pool of gas light coming from a streetlamp, letting Stephen slump bonelessly against his chest as they swayed in a lazy circle, “This is what it should be like, my love. This is how you’ve deserved to live your entire life.”

Stephen giggled, loose limbed and loose lipped with the weight of the sweet wine on his tongue, “No one cares...I’m dancing with my lover in the street and no one cares…”

Luien’s cheeks were a little red too, his speech a little slack and grin overly wide, but he was a few glasses down on Stephen, “Well, we can still get arrested for disorderly behaviour and waking the neighbours.”

“I see,” Stephen hummed with exaggerated seriousness, face still pressed to Lucien’s chest so it came out a little muffled, “We should be inside then so we can be as disorderly as we wish.”

“I like the sound of that,” Lucien chuckled, half dancing and half dragging Stephen to the door of their hotel which they’d been wonkily aiming for when they’d started their impromptu waltz.

Getting through the lobby with whatever wine soaked dignity they could muster took a few moments when Stephen stumbled on the steps and Lucien couldn’t remember his own name briefly when the front desk asked but eventually they staggered up the stairs to the apartments they were calling home until they could book passage further into Europe.

Fortunately they didn’t have to fumble with the key in the door, the French helpfully built their door knobs in brass and he sent it swinging inwards with a thought, unfortunately just as Lucien swept him up to kiss him against it. The two of them burst into helpless laughter, sprawled on the mat, giggling like children.

“Get off me,” Stephen managed to get the words out, through the laughter and the fact that shy of two hundred pounds of muscular lordship was resting on him, “I can’t breathe, you great lump…”

“Some poorly timed romance on my part, I apologise,” Lucien laughed, finding his feet and pulling himself up, snagging Stephen on the way up.

“Oh,” Stephen’s eyes glittered in the pale moonlight, the only thing keeping the apartment from complete darkness, “Well...don’t let this keep you from trying again.”

Lucien seemed to take that as a personal challenge, not letting his lover find his feet, just sweeping him into his arms and carrying him straight to the canopy bed. With a few assists from Stephen, bending the ether to shove an ottoman and curl the corner of a rug out of their path, they made it with no broken necks or barked shins.

“Did I tell you the ether feels different here?” he found himself murmuring, once they’d toppled into the pool of silk and down, his mouth doing that thing where the wine rather than his brain made it move.

“Hmm?” Lucien had collapsed next to him, looking like a scarecrow that had been dropped from a height. A scarecrow dressed in Hawkes and Cheney’s finest, “Don’t recall. Tell me anyway. I like when you talk about magic, your eyes light up.”

Stephen reddened until he was probably a similar colour to the wine they’d been drinking but he held his hands up above himself, backing them against the rich muslin of the canopy. He twitched his long fingers as he spoke, like he was stroking something.

“I work with my hands so it feels different to me. It feels richer, like I’m moving my hands through honey rather than water, like it is back home. It...drags on me, like it’s alive and it’s touching me as much as I’m touching it. Like the difference between velvet and cotton, you know? You just want to dig your fingers in and see how far it goes. I bet if Esther was here, she’d say it smelled different too and I’ll ask Saint if it sounds different…” he trailed off, glancing to the man lying beside him, realising that Lucien was gazing at him with an expression warmer and more adoring than anyone he’d ever given a magical lecture to.

“Did my eyes light up?” he asked shyly, mouth cocking into a smile.

“All of you does,” Lucien purred, looking at him the way Stephen had looked at the paintings and artefacts in the museum, like he was something precious and masterful, like the whole world around them and dimmed and Stephen was all that mattered, “This is just...this is everything I wanted for you, my love.”

“To eat my own body weight in cake twice over?” Stephen hummed,

The jesting tone was a little flat and shaky but he needed some way to blunt this. Because if Lucien kept talking like this and looking at him like that then he felt me might cry. Because they were alone in a beautiful place and everything was changing, because he loved this man so much and he loved him back and light could be as overwhelming as dark. You could drown in honey as easily as blood.

But, as ever, Lucien was the one who was unafraid. They lay practically nose to nose but it still wasn’t close enough apparently, he reached over to hold his cheek. His palm was cool from the chill night air and Stephen leaned into it instinctively.

“To be somewhere you can just be your incredible self,” Lucien murmured, keeping their voices low even though they were alone, just because the words were Stephen’s and no one elses, “Magical and powerful and mine.”

Stephen turned and pressed his lips to the centre of that slightly roughened palm, “Thank you. I know I’m going to be saying that a lot from now on and it’s never going to feel like enough but still. Thank you so much.”

Lucien kissed the bridge of his nose, running his thumb over his cheekbone, protective and comforting, “And I will always reply that you don’t need to thank me. You came with me, that’s more than enough.”

Stephen melted under the touch, sighing softly, finding a way to relax even beyond what the drink and dancing had already accomplished, “And it only gets better from here?”

“The further we get from England, the less anyone will care,” Lucien promised, fingers moving up to tease the tighter curls at the edge of his hairline, “In China I’ll be able to take you to dinners, kiss you in the street, introduce you as my partner to my fellow traders, brag shamelessly about my talented, handsome shaman…”

Stephen groaned, though he was betrayed by his lopsided grin of incredibly endearing goofiness, “Wonderful...though I like being called your partner.”

“Well,” Lucien patted his cheek and let him go, apparently too drunk and tired to engage his neck muscles, “I’d rather call you my husband but not even Shanghai allows me that.”

This certain kind of moment happens often between two people with more wine in their bloodstream than sense in their head, that one of them will casually blurt something without realising the magnitude of their words, their runaway mouths jumbling up the filing system in their head and confusing the one labelled ‘deeply personal thoughts’ with ‘casual conversation’. People said in vino veritas, Lucien recalled, though the more succinct phrase that snapped his eyes open and froze him in place when he realised what he’d said was ‘complete fucking stupidity’.

Stephen was watching him with wide, golden eyes, no expression but naked surprise, “You’d marry me? If we could?”

Lucien wasn’t often caught on the back foot, even around Stephen. His little witch could count on one hand the amount of times he’d seen him blush as he was now, the amount of times he’d seen his mouth twist into the shy, vulnerable smile of a much younger man who’d been through far less in his life.

“Well...of course. Honestly, if we lived in a different time, I’d have done it long before now. Pretty much as soon as I got the slightest inkling you’d actually have me,” the blush deepened as he spoke and, God, Stephen would have been lying if it wasn’t damn endearing to see his lover’s cold, angular features having to deal with embarrassment.

Lucien caught his expression, laughing exasperatedly and dragging Stephen closer, “Oh fuck off, is this really that much of a surprise?”

Stephen giggled, wrapping his arms around Lucien in turn, “That I could land one of the most eligible bachelors in England? Somewhat...oh heavens, would that make me Lady Crane?”

That set them both off again, gripped by helpless laughter, giddy on wine and fantasy.

“I think you’d be Lord as well?” Lucien snorted, the idea of his radical little witch having a title too funny for words, “Or Lord Consort which even you have to admit is an inherently fuckable title.”

“Well, you’ve got me there…” he snickered, rusty curls falling into his eyes, “Stephen Vaudrey….”

Thinking if he was in for a penny on emotional vulnerability, he may as well be in for a pound, Lucien shook his head, “Actually, if we’re indulging ourselves completely, I’d ask you to keep your name. And, if you’d be so kind, extend it to me?”

Stephen’s jaw dropped, “Pardon? Did I hear that right?”

Lucien shrugged lazily, managing to haul himself up into something more like a sitting position against the bolsters, “Come on now, darling, like I’m going to cling to the surname of my abusive father and brother when I could join a loving family of people with actual integrity and honour.”

Stephen scrambled after him, resting his head on Lucien’s chest, gazing up at him adoringly, “That’s...I don’t even know what to say, Lucien.”

Lucien pushed that wayward hair back, his heart thudding at putting that expression of bewilderment and love on Stephen’s face and wanting to admire every inch of it, “So you wouldn’t mind spending the rest of your life with Lucien Day?”

“I’d do it in a heartbeat,” Stephen said emphatically, turning into his hand the way a cat being petted would, “And I will. No matter what the law says.”

Lucien seemed to consider that a moment, an amusement dawning in his grey eyes, the kind of idea that could only happen when one was a little bit drunk and madly in love clearly taking root. His mouth quirked upwards at the end.

“Fuck the law then,” he grinned, “Marry me. Right now.”

Stephen blinked, clearly missing a few pieces of the puzzle, “Excuse me?”

Lucien lurched to his feet so suddenly that Stephen was left to fall face down into the space he left behind with an ungainly yelp. He turned onto his back to see Lucien straightening his lapels, trying to shake out some of the rumpledness in his suit from their raucous evening. He deftly untied his cravat, somehow managing to force hands that had held several wine glasses over the last few hours to handle the knot expertly. Then he held out his hand to Stephen.

“Your leg please, sweet boy. This can be the something new, I only bought it today, and borrowed too as I’m lending it to you. I’d say your suit can be your something old, given the state of it, as I’ve pointed out many times. Don’t think you’re getting out of Paris without some new clothes by the way. And blue…”

“Our tattoos have blue in them,” Stephen grinned at him as he complied, shivering a little as Lucien pushed up the leg of his worn trousers, “You’ve lost your mind completely.”

“It's this or we become pirates and enter into matelotage, my love,” Lucien hummed, tying the lace around his thigh in a decent approximation of a garter, “And the journey across the Channel made it clear you get seasick far too easily for that.”

Stephen wrinkled his nose, he’d had a near constant sour taste in his mouth for the entire trip, “Granted…”

“What’s a marriage anyway?” Lucien hummed, kissing Stephen’s knee before letting him go, “Rings and a promise and a priest. And, the way I see it, two out of three requirements makes a good enough substitute for me. The law doesn’t want us so I say we don’t want it.”

“Spoken like a true smuggler,” Stephen gazed up at him, feeling like he could float.

Lucien flashed him the kind of grin that made shivers run up his spine, as he slid the magpie ring he’d had made to fit Stephen’s from his finger, “Now I know we already did this part but why not...take mine and I’ll have yours, if you don’t mind…”

His hand felt naked without the ring but Lucien’s larger one lying in his palm was a solid certainty, still warm from his lover’s skin. Stephen clutched it like a talisman, a delighted, bewildered laugh bursting from him as Lucien pulled him to his feet. The two of them stood facing each other like they were before an altar, framed in the enormous bay windows that lay the glittering entirety of Paris out before them. Neither man gave it a glance.

“Now, I’ll do my best to remember how it went at Leo’s though the wine might not be helping,” Lucien frowned as he thought, “Although, having said that, I was drunk for that wedding too.”

“Which one?” Stephen grinned teasingly, “The one years ago or the one last month?”

“Both,” Lucien hummed, taking Stephen’s hands in his own, enveloping them safely in his own, “Now…”

Stephen tilted his head upwards, taking a breath and focusing on Lucien’s face. Something inside him fought through the burgundy fog and the giddiness and the fear of those emotions that felt too big to hold, something whispered focus, this is important, you’ll want to remember every second.

Lucien slid Stephen’s ring back onto his finger, fitting it perfectly where it had sat since last December, “I, Lucien Vaudrey, take thee, Stephen Day, to be my completely unlawful but much devoted and adored husband to have and to hold from this day forward. For better or worse, for richer or poorer, when you’re vomiting over the edge of an ocean liner or in health, so on and so forth and whatever…” he clearly abandoned the traditional vows and his eyes softened with sincerity, “You are the person who woke up my heart when I’d rather forgotten i even owned one. You’ve saved me, you’ve made me a better man and you’ve put so much trust in me. All I can do is swear to you that I am yours, completely and utterly. For whatever it's worth to you, my love.”

For a few moments, Stephen couldn’t speak or move or do anything but stand in place with his eyes fixed on Lucien’s and wonder what the hell he’d done to deserve the place he stood in now. He only realised how long he’d been struck dumb when Lucien stifled a chuckle and pointedly cleared his throat, prompting Stephen to scramble for the ring and nearly drop it, managing to get it onto Lucien’s finger.

“Um, okay, ah…” he shook himself, “I, Stephen Day, take thee, Lucien Vaudrey or Crane or Fortunegate or Day or whoever the hell you want to be, I’ll take every single one of you as my unlawful husband and I’ll do it gladly. I’ll take you for better or worse, though God knows we’ve had plenty of the latter. For richer, hard to do in your case, or poorer, even harder to do in my case. In sickness and in health and whatever else the world wants to throw at us because I swear, you are the best thing in my life and nothing is taking you away from me now. Thank you for helping me see something worthwhile when I look in the mirror, thank you for being that little bit more stubborn than me, thank you for...everything. For the whole damned world. I don’t know what I can do to pay that back but I can promise you I’ll try.”

“You can start by kissing your husband?” Lucien’s voice was rough and thick and if Stephen didn’t know his lover better, he’d say there was wetness on his eyelashes.

Not that he had time to properly take note before he threw himself into Lucien’s arms, kissing him hard enough that he would have buckled if he was a shorter man. Instead they met and melted into each other, kissing hard enough to bruise, hard enough that there would be aching jaws to go along with aching heads the next morning.

And outside of the window, Paris still glittered, gaslamp stars in their cobblestone sea, the Seine the path to the rest of the world that lay beyond. All of Europe, all of Asia, wherever they wanted to go was waiting.

And it would have to wait. Because tonight all that mattered was each other.

#a charm of magpies #stephen day #lucien vaudrey #kj charles #some drunken shenanigans

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undergroundkid · 4 years ago

Text

11. If I can have you I can do anything

What was supposed to be a sweet release, turned into obstinate mania.

However soothing Hyungwon’s affirmations were, there was no denying; your ego grew bigger than you let yourself realize. He might kiss your stained hands, hazed your thoughts, and erased doubts for a moment, but after toe-curling ecstasy, you were left with a bitter truth.

I am a bad person.

When you got off your new-proclaimed throne it didn’t hit you right away. Your wobbly legs barely held you up, hair stuck to your face, the muscles groaned in exasperation and hummed with delight simultaneously. Probably too many sensations still occupied your body and mind; so of course, it had to be Chae’s words that put you back in reality.

- This is your sin – he said, half-laying on the bed with an open shirt and sweat-kissed skin. Then he added with a small laugh:- Pride, Miss Y/N.

How this man could take you to the highest peak of pleasure and then throw you off straight into a freezing stream of maliciousness was beyond you. But he did it, time after time, always leaving you shocked when you should already learn.

Few days passed without sign of any of the apartment’s guests. Such a restful way should give you some peace when you could focus on your job in quiet. No sudden meetings, no suspicious events, no unprofessional situations with clients – just how it worked before.

It did work before you were aware of yourself. In the past, you didn’t have to ponder on your actions, because you always believed them to be the best you could do. Now the seed of the doubt was sowed, uncertainty always behind your back questioning your true motives.

It was tiring; you wished to be a silly doe once again.

You worked slower, not so actively pursuing your guests' attention. If your manager noticed, she didn’t mention it, simply burying you in paperwork. Or maybe she didn’t want to? Maybe she’s also like me? Perhaps we’re all egocentric creatures, pretending to care, only for our own advantage, without any selflessness?

- Child, you’re spacing out again. Everything’s alright?

Or perhaps not – there may be people with personal interest, like your mother. She looked at you intently, her hands moving uneasily; she must be worried.

- Oh, yes – the answer came out automatically:- Yes, I’m okay.

As you furrowed your brows, concerned why you won’t simply voice out your thoughts, your mom managed to drop her troubles. Your short reply sufficiently good to go her own merry way.

- Good! Hurry up sweetheart or you will be late to the hotel!

You nodded, empty inside once again. Only one purpose: work.

Chae told you there was greatness in evil. How could you not believe him, swept by powerful affirmations? Such a beautiful face of his will convince anyone. Sour veracity flowing from pretty lips, drowning you in his ideals.

- It does feel good, doesn’t it? – he took a rich grip of your thighs, not urging you, just enjoying the heat of your flesh. You looked at him with a small smile, relishing in the way his manhood slid sweetly along your slick walls. No hurry, only the delectation of erotic closeness, fulness again.. having him below you, the stunning man that downgraded you.

His hands moved to your backside, coercing you to move up his shaft. Betraying his lust like this, instinctual pressure to chase the climax made you tilt your head back with a chuckle.

You sat down fully, gripping him tight with inner muscles. Delighted by male’s hiss, you placed your hands on his sweated arms comfortably.

- You tell me – you responded, voice calm as you rose and sink down again; his broken sigh already an answer, but you couldn't help yourself and had to ask:- Does it feel good, Mr Chae?

It definitely did.

At that moment, you ate his words easily. Driven by his praises, easy acceptance of your dark side, you really felt like a goddess. But that was it, just a moment; the person changing into the receptionist’s uniform wasn’t a deity anymore. Not a scared doe either – just a fool, more angered by the idea of being arrogant shrew than the fact she jumped at another’s client's dick.

The discomposure after the encounter with Hyungwon fell short of the one with Mr. Changkyun. Shame ate you alive then, now just warmed up your ears and moistened the hands. The morals? Fitfully unstable.

- Y/N, I left the shift report on the desk, take a look – your colleague chirped at the exit in a typical pink-collar worker’s voice:- There were some complaints to take care of, I know you will do your best! See you next time!

Placing the responsibilities on me over and over; you had to bite your tongue to stop the thoughts. Where do they come from? Am I always presumptuous like this?

- Uh, Miss Y/N?

- Sorry, what’s up?

- The report? – young intern handed you papers, deciding to summarize it anyway:- Guests from the third floor claimed there’s loud music coming from somewhere.

- Music?

- Ah, it’s stated here – she pointed to the last paragraph. If the hotel has musicians or any other vocalists under their roof, the curfew doesn’t work? However skilled, 3 AM piano performance isn’t appreciated.

- Probably someone’s played the CD too loud.. can we even find out who was it?

- Oh hey, something’s wrong? – Yoonho cut in, emerging from behind the corner; your eyes met briefly before he focused on the apprentice. He didn’t stay in your company for long since your silly argument – if you could call it an argument at all. Funny boy, obvious to the suddenly high-pitched voice of the girl between you.

- Loud music? I didn’t hear anything yesterday and I stayed until midnight?

Huh, so he does avoid me.

- Well.. what.. what can we do? Should we stay tonight longer too? – her voice toned down with uncertainty.

- Ah, it doesn’t make sense.. you want to sit at the stairs and pretend to just chill out?

- Probably best if we check it out personally? I mean.. maybe we will hear this wonderful piano serenade room 322 wrote about?

You cringed your nose involuntarily, third-wheeling the awful teenage romance drama. Why the heck she’s so obsessed with him was unclear. He was sweet but way too childish.. proper good-looking at the best, especially among the clients here.

- You said piano? – porter chuckled with annoyance:- Oh, no worries then, your supervisor will solve this puzzle.

Did I say childish?

Yoonho looked at you with an upturned nose. He reminded you of an offended kid; still cute, but definitely testing his limits. Who the hell he thinks he is, little shit-

This is your sin, Miss Y/N.

Wait, why am I getting angry already? It’s nothing for the God’s sake..

Pride.

Oh no, I am better than this, better than you, him and everybody here-

- That’s true – you smiled your best service’s worker smile, taking younger acquaintance by surprise:- I think I can take care of it.

You could hear the song on the second floor already; it felt like you were the only one, the other guests not paying any attention to you or elegant tones vibrating in the air. It was a different melody than before, accompanied by a graceful male’s voice, singing the song in a language unknown to you.

The source of the complaint was found in the emergency staircase: the duet of an old piano and young man.

- Looks like we’re meeting again, Miss – the gentleman welcomed, changing the tempo of his song to more relaxing. His white sweater matched the room perfectly; with the new line of chords, he gave off a cozy aura.

- Mr. Yoo – you bowed:- I was looking for you. Did you decide to wander here last night perhaps?

- Is that a proper question from a young lady? – he shifted on a small bench, offering you a seat. You took it without hesitation, feeling at ease in his presence. The effect of his music, harmonic vocals, and polite behavior was soothing for your soul. Exactly what you needed after the vortex of the last events.

- We had a complaint about the noise, sir. You should finish the concert before 10 PM for everybody’s comfort.

- I see.. my apologies – he slouched a bit, big glasses sliding down his nose. He stopped playing to adjust them:- I thought it wasn’t a big deal. There’s a lot of loud singing at the night here.

Frowning was enough to make him explain.

- Intense, melodic .. and greatly feminine.

You could see the rising panic in your face from the reflection in Kihyun’s lenses; he just smiled, a little, almost with adoration.

- It was very beautiful – he assured, calming you down instantly. Soothing came naturally to him – surely he meant your latest stunts, yet his short affirmation was enough to put discomfort for later. No judging, maybe even a bit of understanding. Now you could simply enjoy his appeasing company.

His fingers started waltzing lazily on aged piano keys, filling the silence.

- It made me lonely – Mr. Yoo admitted:- Music makes me feel less miserable.

- I see.. hotel is full of people, but it doesn’t matter. I am sorry to hear this, sir.

A simple nod was the only answer. Seeing the man who until now provided nothing but comfort for you in sorrow mood was upsetting. He deserved better.

You lightly brushed your shoulder against his to lighten up the mood.

- I am here now, sir. With you.

He chuckled.

- That’s what I was hoping for.

Tiny tingling danced under your ribs for a few seconds. Letting it warm you up, then quelling it out habit – you shouldn’t let the simple compliments captivate you. Why you still held to the old manners you were taught? You didn’t exactly follow them lately. Quit the act already.

- Your presence.. conciliate me – hushed words, spoke with caution:- It did last time and so do now. I am afraid I will need it more.

- I.. can help, sir. Please call reception next time, we can talk?

Kihyun laughed, shaking his head with amusement.

- Dear Miss Y/N.. this solitude is a bottomless pit, unfortunately..

His hand came to your jawline, following the path behind your ear. He touched the delicate skin with eyes full of wonder.

- It will never be enough – he stated, then added with a sigh:- I am gluttonous like this.

Nobody wants to be lonely, after all – it’s human nature. He found out your dirty secrets and might want to take his own piece of this cake, hiding it under lame excuses.. but why would he do that? How can you suspect the most courteous man in this hotel? Always polite to you, adding some smarty remarks to keep you on your toes. No pushing your boundaries though – he acknowledged your actions without any criticism.

Maybe he is just alone, wishing for someone to heal the emptiness. What’s wrong with looking for affection anyway? It’s what led you to previous encounters, too. You were touch-starved. Both Changkyun and Hyungwon made you aware of it, appeased the basic hunger, then left you to hunt for yourself.

The doe became huntress, so you closed the gap between you and Yoo with an urgent kiss. He melted with pleasure, almost as if he was waiting for your move.

- So am I – you agreed, clenching his white sweater:- I am greedy, too, sir.

- Oh I can tell – he whispered with a snicker, staring at your moving hands.

The kisses became heated quickly. You were torn between admiring his foggy glasses and reddened lips. The gentleman was focused on chasing your mouth though, arms encircling your frame to close any possible space between you two. His soft touch contrast to your previous lovers, both Im and Chae more fervently urgent. Even your ex-boyfriend, your first.. however considerate he was of your virginity, his inexperience was clear. You didn’t blame him; he was a sweetheart, head over heels in love with you.. at some point at least.

Nonetheless, you couldn’t help but contemplate if he ever loved you for real. Maybe it was a stupid young crush and you stayed together out of habit, playing it safe. It looked like he wanted another type of partner inferring from his social media. No point in complaining now, you were both adults, going their own path.. his more of a party animal, yours.. well. Boring, uneventful, and stable until now; even so, still regretful.

Kihyun’s approach unlike anyone was making you feel treasured as if he was waiting a lifetime for a chance to have this moment. Hyungwon set you on a pedestal, that’s true, but he did it with mendacity, leaving you more mentally confused than before. The male beside you handled you with utter care, gracing you with a love-struck smile. You answered with a grin before you could catch yourself. What a lovely man, worthy of the best, yet he was with you and it seemed to make him the happiest.

Maybe I can honestly bring him joy, maybe I.. maybe I am not as bad as I thought of myself.

Your hands trembled, which didn’t go unnoticed by your partner. He instantly shifted to meet your eyes properly, observing your face for any kind of discomfort. His concern practically startling, given how unused you were to that level of care. Nobody paid attention to your feelings much, obvious hardship dismissed even by your own mother.

This man did on the other hand. He worried about trivial troubled gesture, despite the hollowness of his heart.

I can help; I can be virtuous, whatever Chae implied. You felt he can be wrong this strong for the first time since his arrival.

- Something’s wrong, dear?

You shook your head dismissively.

- No – you answered, grazing male’s legs briefly:- Actually, quite the opposite.

He tried to ask again, however, was silenced with a quick kiss – to stop him from questioning and to provide a distraction from sneaking hands down his trousers, towards a recognizable bulge. He moaned straight into your mouth, such a pure noise you thought of it as your new favorite sound. You needed more of this dissolute melody then and there.

Driven by a desire to take care of your sweet lover, you slid between his legs on your knees.

- Ah, Miss Y/N – blush prominent on cheeks, he still tried to play it cool:- Don’t you favor me way too much?

You shushed him, massaging his crotch that was now your eye-level. He weakly tried to pry your hands with some gentle words, something among the lines of ladies first, although it didn’t stop you.

- Mr. Yoo – unzipping his pants, freeing him from briefs and still you didn’t shy away from his heated gaze:- I want to hear you sing more..

You had your goal now. Clear purpose helping you redeem yourself.

- Please, play the piano and sing – you requested, kissing the head of his erected member. He answered you with a shaky breath, which determined he needed a moment to collect himself. Cute.

The moment he started the new tune, your tongue glided along salty skin. He faltered for a few seconds, picking up the tempo with trouble.

It made you smile; it made you powerful, once again, but at your own rules.

When Kihyun decided to sing, you swallowed him as much as you could. The vocals broke into a loud whine, fueling you to go even deeper, faster, wilder.

You could give him a piece of heaven, sneak peek into oblivion. It was possible without looking for own gain or offensive commentary. Just two people searching for the warmth of intimacy. He chanted foreign words above you out of breath, still harmonic as always and you sensed both your climaxes coming; his primal, your spiritual.

Cure the loneliness out of the pure heart. I don’t want anything, after all; just feel better.

Is that nothing? Or am I seeking for my own benefit?

The piano stuttered, chords losing original pace, throwing the song into chaos. Yoo’s voice slowed down to sinful groans with infrequent lyrics. He was close, exhalation hasty just like the thoughts coming through your head.

Am I proving Chae’s word wrong?

The piano stopped abruptly, some keys pressed together with a smash of Kihyun’s arm. He hid between his elbows and your head, uttering an uncommonly bashful cry. Bitter substance filled your mouth along with an even more savage realization.

You gulped down his cum, stunned enough to not care for typical male’s taste. Tucking him back into pants, mental nausea grew stronger every passing second. You hoped to bolt before facing him, however difficult it might be.

Pointless as expected, when your rose back again he embraced your hips with wobbly palms.

- Not so quick, Miss – sweated from orgasm, not any less handsome:- Let me return the favor.

Favor? It wasn’t a favor. Only a confirmation; you were corrupt as Hyungwon said you were. Determined to convince him you can be good simply because you couldn’t stand the insult. Too proud to admit the truth over again. Not able to accept the accusation so much it made you blow the first willing guy. Extra violation on your naughty list.

- You don’t have to – there was no use to drag the show anymore, so you opted to give up before you could regret it all even more. Kihyun opened his mouth to protest with what could be another wise-ass reply, but you beat him to it:

- We are all lonely in our pleasure in the end.

thank you for reading

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#shangri-la fc #my writing #monsta x fanfic #monsta x imagines #monsta x reader #hyungwon x reader #hyungwon imagine #kihyun x reader #kihyun imagine #monsta x smut #oops oh well #long post

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libralita · 4 years ago

Text

Way of Kings Reread

This is my post Rhythm of War reread so if you don’t want spoilers for Rhythm of War then come back later. These are essentially just the notes I took during this read through so things like “Szeth is darkeyed” isn’t really stellar commentary but there are a few interesting things in here. Also this reread was like…very sporadic so I probably missed things.

“A man with a long grey and black beard slumped in the doorway, smiling foolishly—though whether from wine or a weak mind, Szeth could not tell.

‘Have you seen me?’ the man asked with slurred speech. He laughed then began to speak in gibberish, reaching for a wineskin.”—Page 23

Oh god, it’s Jezrien. Nooooo.

I’m curious to see how Humans being voidbringers plays into Szeth’s punishment.

“Occasionally, light would flash without the thunder. The slaves would groan in terror at this, thinking about the Stormfather, the shades of the Lost Radiants, or the Voidbringers—all of which were said to haunt the most violent highstorms.”

Interesting that they’re called the “shades”, perhaps referring to cognitive shadows?

“Talenelat’Elin, bearer of all agonies.”

Wait…do people know about Taln?

“This room is called the Veil…That which comes before the Palanaeum itself. Both were here when the city was founded. Some think these chambers might have been cut by the Dawnsingers themselves.”

First of all, Veil, haha. Second, interesting bit of lore.

“Thaylens had their own systems of rank.”

I’d like to know what it is.

It’s very interesting that philosophy and history are feminine arts and yet the merchant is still trying to sell Shallan on a romance novel

I wonder if Yalb still has his drawing. It was probably ruined so that sucks.

“There, she used all her remaining sphere to fill of all nine colors and all three sizes.”

Hmmmmmmmm. Nine and three. Interesting

“Then he’d have someone to talk to in Damnation. They could reminisce about how terrible Bridge Four had been, and agree that eternal fires were much more pleasant.”

K…Kaladin please don’t joke about that.

“His ways were odd—though Lirin made certain that his son didn’t mix up the Heralds and the Lost Radiants, Kal had heard his father say that he thought the Voidbringers weren’t real. Ridiculous.”

RIP

“He reached the base of the slop, wind-driven rain pelting his face as if trying to shove him back toward the camp.”

Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

“She looked exhausted. ‘These things are heavy!’ She lifted the leaf. ‘I brought it for you!’”

I love her so much I could cry.

Szeth is a dark eyed.

We need to get the void sphere back.

“It was fairly ordinary, a simple piece of rock with a few quartz crystals set into it and a rusty vein of iron on one side.”

Iron.

“‘Today,’ King Elhokar announced, riding beneath the bright open sky, ‘is an excellent day to slay a god. Wouldn’t you say’”

Owwwwwwwwww my heart

“One might say that gods, as a rule, should fear the Althei nobility. Most of us at least.”

Y’know…Sadeas has a point

Actually they should probably fear Taravangian.

Sadeas wears red plate. I always imagine him in green.

Shardplate is naturally slate gray. I wonder if it’s the same color as what your limbs go if they’re cut by a shardblade. Hmmmm.

“Adolin found himself wishing, passionately, that his father would do a little more these days to live up to that reputation.”

Adolin, sweet pie, NO

I miss Elhokar so much

Also the Thrill of Contest, that’s interesting.

“I felt like a youth again, chasing after your father on some ridiculous challenge.”

Dalinar, we all know that it was Gavilar chasing you

“There was someone watching me in the darkness that night.”

My poor baby…

“‘I defy you, creature!’ Elhokar screamed. ‘I claim your life! They will see their gods crushed, just as they will see their king dead at my feet! I defy you!’”

Elhokar…

“Adolin—stalwart as always—had dismounted beside the king. He tried to stop the claws, striking at them as they fell. Unfortunately, there were four claws and only one of Adolin.”

Hmmmm, Adolin v 4 is becoming a pattern.

“Dalinar should have been there to defend him. Only two things remained of his beloved brother, two things that Dalinar could protect in a hope to earn some form of redemption: Gavilar’s kingdom and Gavilar’s son.”

Ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

“Let me first assure you that the element is quite safe. I have found a good home for it. I protect its safety like I protect my own skin, you might say.”

It has been ten years and I still have no idea what this means.

“Kaladin punched Moash right in the gut, where he knew it would wind him. Moash gasped in shock, doubling over, and Kaladin stepped forward to grab him by the legs, slinging Moash over his shoulder.”

Ahhhhh I could read this paragraph over and over again.

“He worked himself ragged. In fact, he felt close to collapsing several times, but every time he did, he found a reserve of strength from somewhere.”

I wonder where.

“Rockbuds had opened nearby, their vines reaching out to lap up the beast’s blood.”

Gross.

Insult his son and the Blackthorn will peek through

“I had…things to be about.”

I don’t like the way Wit said that.

“You going to do Alethkar a favor and rid it of both of us?”

That is a very interesting line for Wit to say…Also concerning. Wit what are you up to?

It’s very interesting that without Sadeas and Gavilar, Dalinar has to learn how to be a politician. It’s clear that both men maneuver others while Dalinar is blunt force. Good character development, I really love it as a political scientist.

“Brother, follow the Codes tonight. There is something strange upon the winds.”

Hmmmmmmmmm, I think Gavilar was planning his death.

“We’d protect Gavilar’s son. No matter what the cost, no matter what other things came between us, we would protect Elhokar.”

…Would…Elhokar have died if Sadeas was still alive?

“The book was used by the Radiants as a kind of guidebook, a book of counsel on how to live their lives.”

That…something that I forgot. Dalinar maybe you should have some required reading in your Radiant generation.

It’s interesting that Shardplate and Rsyhadium have no problem with humans using them but shardblades do.

“Dalinar was shocked that he could remember the story word for word,”

Hmmmmmm

“Could he train himself out of freezing in battle like that?”

End me.

“You sure he’s not decayspren wearing a man’s skin?”

S…Syl…is that a problem we have to deal with?

“They break the land itself! They want it, but in their rage they will destroy it. Like the jealous man burns his rich things rather than let them be taken by his enemies! They come!”

The…humans?

“‘Hm,’ he said. ‘Yes. We’ll be getting right to that soon. It’ll be grand. Lots of prancing, sauntering, and er…’

‘Promenading?’ Yis the leatherworker offered.

‘Isn’t that a type of drink?’ Adolin asked.

‘Er, no, Brightlord. I’m fairly certain it’s another word for walking.’

‘Well, then,’ Adolin said. ‘We’ll do plenty of it too. Promenading. I always love a good promenading.’”

He and Shallan are truly made for each other.

“Highprince Aladar has begun to talk of taking a short vacation back to Althekar. I want to know if he’s serious.”

Oh?

It’s very interesting how Gavilar after death is portrayed as having grown weak and yet there’s so much reverence for him.

Three gods, huh?

It’s interesting that Dalinar can feel the thrill in these visions.

“It was a topaz entwined with a heliodor, both set into a fine metal framework, each stone as big as a man’s hand.”

Is that some kind of fabrial? Is she an edgedancer/truthwatcher? She seemed to have Stoneward shardplate. How confusing. I guess she could have borrowed Shardplate.

DABBID MY SON!

“‘Next time it could be you!’ he called. ‘What will you do if you’re the one that needs healing?’

‘I’ll die.’ Moash said, not even bothering to look back. ‘Out on the field, quickly, rather than back here over a week’s time.’”

Oh that would be so unfortunate.

REREADING THIS BOOK WITH THE TEFT SECTIONS OH OHHHHHHHHH BOY SUFFERING. LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE

“I was under the impression that you were going to aid the queen in protecting the king’s interests in Alethkar.”

That is interesting to think about. What would have happened in Navani had stayed in Alethkar? Did the Unmade compel Navani to go? Or would she have been under the influence of the Unmade?

“I have determined that the queen is sufficiently endowed with the requisite skills needed to hold Alethkar.”

Uhhhhhhhhhh

“‘Well, I suppose that’s all right,’ she said. ‘I kind of trust Sadeas.’”

Interesting. Also my son, my love, Elhokar...you are so dumb.

“‘You still argue he isn’t a bad king?’ Navani whispered. ‘My poor, distracted, oblivious boy.’”

HE COULD HAVE BEEN GREAT

Ishar is the herald of luck?

WAIT ROION! TURTLE MAN! My baby!

My god I sometimes forget that Dalinar has no fucking chill and no impulse control.

“The Almighty himself depended on the Alethi to train themselves in honorable battle so that when they died, they could join the Heralds’ army and win back the Tranquiline Halls.”

Is that…Honor’s influence or Odium’s? Or has Odium corrupted this idea? Because judging by Rhythm of War, Odium’s end goal was to raise an army from Roshar and then send them across the Cosmere.

“My sense of honor makes me easy to manipulate.”

Whaaaaaat? You Dalinar. Pffttttt Noooooo. Pfffftttttt.

“‘He is well, though you presence here is sorely missed. I’m certain he could use your counsel. He is relying heavily on Brightness Lalai to act as clerk.’

Perhaps that would make Jasnah return. There was little love lost between herself and Sadeas’s cousin, who was the king’s head scribe in he queen’s absence.”

First, there’s another Sadeas we must deal with besides Sadeas’s nephew that I’m sure will be around in arc 2. Second, interesting wonder where that drama stems from.

“They may be a little too stable. The world is changing outside, but the Shin seem determined to remain the same.”

Hmmmmmmmmmm

“Gavarah hadn’t reached her twentieth Weeping when she proposed the theory of the three realms.”

WHOA WHOA WHOA WHOA WHOA WHOA. Lemme hear this theory, my dude.

“He reminds me of my uncle Dalinar. Earnest, sincere, concerned.” “We could do with more men like Taravangian,”

I…mmm….aw man…I…that’ll be a yikes for me.

“He found a half-finished bridge. It had eventually grown out of that one plank Kaladin had used.”

ASODFKJSLDFJSLDF JUST LIKE THE FOURTH BRIDGE

“Had something moved in the darkness?”

His spren?

“‘Roshone lets them know he finds them contemptible. And so they scramble to please him.

‘That makes no sense,’ Kal said.

‘It is the way of things,’ Lirin said, playing with one of the spheres on the table, rolling it beneath his fingers. ‘You’ll have to learn this, Kal. When men perceive the world as being right, we are content. But if we see a hole—a deficiency—we scramble to fill it.”

This feels like how Lirin is acting in Rhythm of War.

Y’know it really makes sense why Kabsal would be working for Thaidakar.

Is…Kabsal attempting to get Shallan to join the Ghostbloods? Rhythm of War makes me wonder how honest Kabsal was towards Shallan. Yeah, Jasnah thought Kabsal was just manipulating her but she didn’t say how she knew this.

“He smiled, then drew the bow across the edge of the metal plate, making it vibrate. The sand hopped and bounced, like tiny insects dropped onto something hot.

‘This,’ he said, ‘is called cymatics. The study of pattern that sounds make when interactive with a physical medium.’

As he drew the bow again, the plate made a sound, almost a pure note. It was actually enough to draw a single music spren, which spun for a moment in the air above him, then vanished. Kabsal finished, then gestured to the plate with a flourish.”

Well, Rhythm of War certainly made this more interesting.

“Bridgemen aren’t supposed to survive. There’s something about that. He wouldn’t be able to ask Lamaril. That man had gotten what he deserved, though. If Kaladin had the ability to choose, such would be the end of all lighteyes, the king included.

Your inner Moash is showing.

“I want you to go back into the barrack and tell the men to come out after the storm. Tell them to look up at me tied here. Tell them I’ll open my eyes and look back at them, and they’ll know that I survived.”

No wonder a religion might be forming around Kaladin.

“Teft lingered too, as if thinking to spend the storm with Kaladin. He eventually shook his head, muttering and joined the others. Kaladin thought he heard the man calling himself a coward.”—Page 517

Brandon Sanderson, leave me the fuck alone.

“‘Taking the Dawnsahrds, known to bind any creature voidish or mortal, he crawled up the steps crafted for Heralds, ten strides tall apiece, toward the grand temple above.’—From The Poem of Ista. I have found no modern explanation of what these ‘Dawnshards’ are. They seem ignored by scholars, though talk of them was obviously prevalent among those recording the early mythologies.”—Page 524

Wait…who’s he? And aw man this becomes more relevant in a few years.

“‘Then you’re not a murderer,’ Kaladin said.

‘Not for want of trying.’ Sigzil eyes grew distant. ‘I thought for certain I succeeded. It was not the wisest choice I made. My master…’

‘Is he the one you tried to kill?’

‘No.’”

We need some backstory.

Marabethia sounds similar to Twitter.

“It claimed that humming of all things, could make a Soulcasting more effective.”

Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

“That isn’t the kind of thing the Dawnsingers did. They were healers, kindly spren by the Almighty to care for humans once were forced out of the Tranquiline Halls.”

Is…that right?

“‘We believe that the Voidbringers were real, Shallan. A scourge and plague.. A hundred times they came upon mankind. First casting us from the Tanquiline Halls, then trying to destroy us here on Roshar. They weren’t just spren that hid under rocks, then came out to steal someone’s laundry. They were creatures of terrible destructive power, forged in Damnation creature from hate.’

‘By whom?’ Shallan asked.

‘What?’

‘Who made them? I mean, the Almighty wasn’t likely to have ‘created something from hate.’ So what made them?’

‘Everything has its opposite, Shallan. The Almighty is a force of good. To balance his goodness, the cosmere needed the Voidbringers as his opposite.’”—Pages 634-635

Thaidakar’s reveal really makes Kabsal a more…suspicious character. Like how much does he actually know? How much does Thaidakar actually know? Also, I don’t know if Odium is the opposite of Honor. I guess we’d need all 16 shards names to compare.

“A city where people lived in gigantic, hollowed out stalactites hanging beneath a titanic sheltered ridge.”

EXCUSE ME WHAT

“‘I doubt many would disagree. But I mention these horrors for a purpose. You see, it has been my experience that no matter where you go, you will find some who abuse their power.’ He shrugged. ‘Eye color is not so odd a method, compared to many others I have seen. If you were to overthrow the lighteyes and place yourselves in power, Moash, I doubt that the world would be a very different place. The abuses would still happen. Simply to other people.’

Kaladin nodded slowly, but Moash shook his head. ‘No I’d change the world, Sigzil. And I mean to.’”

Hmmm, yeah that didn’t exactly work out.

“‘That makes you wiser, presumably?’

‘Damnation no,’ Teft said. ‘The only thing it proves is that I’ve more experience staying alive than you.’”

Brandon. Leave. Me. Alone.

“Cenn stopped wheezing. He convulsed once, eyes still open. ‘He watches!’ the boy hissed. ‘The black piper in the night. He holds us in his palm…playing a tune that no man can hear!’”—Page 671

Is…is that a reference to El?

“I’m sorry I drove you to suicide. Here’s some bread.”

How people on this website think Moash’s redemption arch is gonna go.

“‘…why Thaidakar would risk this?’ Amaram was saying, speaking in a soft voice. ‘But who else would it be? The Ghostbloos grow more bold.’”—Page 701

Jasnah was complaining last chapter how she hates being wrong but she was wrong about Shallan’s intentions and that Amaram is not as smart as he seems. Yeah, he’s wrong about who sent the shardbearer to kill him but if I was in the cosmere and someone tried to kill me, I would assume it was Thaidakar. On that note, holy fuck, I need to know what conversation prompted both Gavilar and Amaram to assume that someone trying to kill them had to be Thaidakar. I really hope that Gavilar’s pov is next for KOWT for his death so maybe we could get a conversation where they talk to Thaidakar through cube skype or maybe this avatar (whatever the hell that means.) God Rhythm of War makes this scene so much funnier.

“You’d have changed your mind. In a day or two, you’d have wanted the wealth and prestige—otehrs would have convinced you of it. You’d have demanded that I return them to you. It took hours to decide, but Restares is right—this is what must be done. For the good of Alethkar.”—Page 703

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa—this is why we reread—aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa Kaladin is going to have some words with Restares.

What happened to Baxil and Av?

?????????????????????????? Why do these two Ardents know about the Physical/Cognitive/Spiritual realm?

“Eight weeks? Forty days of winter at once? That war rare.”—Page 728

Did the weather used to be more consistent on Roshar?

Oh god Rhythm of War has made the Recreance so hard to read.

“If I abandon my principles, then I become something far worse than they. A hypocrite.”—Page 741

A hypocrite is a just a man changing or something. I forget the quote.

“Have you been paying much attention to the conflict between the Tukari and the Emuli?”—Page 753

“And the Tukari are led by that god-priest of theirs, Tezim.”—Page 754

Look at the foreshadowing.

“‘Just as Hatham wishes his partner in negotiations to know of his goodwill, I wish you to know of our goodwill toward you, Brightlord.’

Dalinar frowned. He’d never had much to do with the ardents—his devotary was simple and straightforward. Dalinar got his fill of politics with the court; he had little desire to find more religion. ‘Why? What should it matter if I have goodwill toward you?’

The ardent smiled. ‘We will speak with you again.’ He bowed low and withdrew.”—Pages 756-757

OKAY AT FIRST I THOUGHT THIS WAS FUNNY BECAUSE THE ARDENTS GET VERY MIFFED AT DALINAR IN OATHBRINGER BUT “we” HOLY SHIT THAT’S ONE OF BUG PEOPLE NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

I can imagine why this bug man wants his goodwill because they’re pretty sure he’ll destroy them.

“‘This thing will not happen,’ Rock said. ‘Is impossible to get sphere out of the chasms.’

‘We could swallow them,’ Moash said.

‘You would choke. Spheres are too big, eh?’

‘I’ll better I could do it,’ Moash said. His eyes glittering, reflecting the verdant Stormlight. ‘That’s more money than I’ve ever seen. It’s worth the risk.’”—Page 766

I swear to god, one of these days Moash is going to swallow a sphere.

“You call him the Stormfather, here in Alethkar.”

So people in Alethkar think that Jezerin and the Stormfather are the same person?

“Light grows so distant. The storm never stops. I am broken, and all around me have died. I weep for the end of all things. He has won. Oh, he has beaten us.”

O…Oh man, I hope this isn’t foreshadowing for KOWT.

“We should have expected this, Dalinar thought. We started bringing two armies to a plateau, so they have done the same.”—Page 781

Interesting that Kaladin thought about this when fighting the Fused by Dalinar didn’t fighting the Listeners

“When other men failed, a field of crops got worms in them. When a surgeon failed someone died.”

Well…if your crops fail then you could very much cause a town to starve to death.

“Though there was one thing he clung to. An excuse, perhaps, like the dead emperor. It was the soul of the wretch. Apathy. The belief that nothing was his fault, the belief that he couldn’t change anything. If a man was cursed, or believe he didn’t have to care, then he didn’t need to hurt when he failed. Those failures couldn’t have been prevented. Someone or something else had ordained them.”

Those are some fucking foils right there.

“They watch me. Always. Waiting. I see their face in mirrors. Symbols, twisted, inhuman…”

Babbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbby

“I wish to sleep. I know now why you do what you do, and I hate you for it. I will not speak of the truths I see.”

The sibling?

“I’d surrendered my plans, but you’ve returned them to me. I’ll guard you with my life, Kaladin. I swear it to you, by the blood of my fathers.”—Page 881

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

LISTEN I KNOW ELHOKAR IS AN IDIOT BUT HE’S MY IDIOT

“The further you look, the more pieces that wind breaks into.”—Page 995

That’s interesting

“A champion could work well for you, but it is not certain. And…without the Dawnshards…”—Page 997

Well, we’ll see how Rysn plays into this.

#Brandon Sanderson #way of kings #Stormlight Archive #cosmere #TaylorRereadsSA

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erinsusername · 4 years ago

Text

Turn

Chapter 2 ~ Closer

Synopsis ~ Kallus takes Roan to a fancy party off world and their night takes a turn (pun intended) that they didn’t expect.

Word count ~ 6390

Rating ~ Explicit

AO3 link ~ https://archiveofourown.org/works/30074598/chapters/75444167#workskin

It had been almost a week since the incident.

Agent Kallus had been called away a few short hours afterward on a mission involving rebel activity and hadn’t been able to check on the Lieutenant before he left, and for that, he had felt an unaccustomed and ceaseless sense of unease.

His feelings weren’t due to the woman being left there with her assailants free to attack again in his absence though. In actuality, he found it a real tragedy that the vessel carrying the three had suffered catastrophic damage en route to their hearings and that the planet they were forced to seek refuge on ended up harboring a small, secret hive for the Haxion Brood syndicate.

The pilot was left alive and sent back with a holovid as a graphic warning that Kallus, unfortunately, had only been able to hear about.

He was told that the Ensign that had put his hands on Roan was placed into an ironweave bag that was tied off at his neck. A jar of droaches was placed inside of the bag and the other two Ensigns were forced to take turns trying to break the heavy glass jar with too small of a stick. It took almost an hour before the insects were finally freed and feverishly burrowed their way through the soft flesh of the boy’s heinous entrapment. The other two were forced to watch as the droaches eventually began to make their way up through his throat and out of any hole in his skull they could find. Once he was dead, the remaining two were forced to fight to the death barehanded with the victor being fed to a pack of some sort of vicious canine species.

It was a gross misappropriation of resources and money well spent.

The lift that was carrying the Agent down to the droid lab felt like it was barely moving and it was making him uncharacteristically antsy. He could admit to himself that he was attracted to the Lieutenant though it was solely physical in nature. He didn't want to know her, he wanted to have her and, yet, for reasons that he couldn't explain, he was nervous seeing her again.

“Are you alright, sir?” the assistant that he had brought with him asked suddenly, rousing him from his deep thoughts.

“Yes,” he said slowly down his nose to the petite blonde at his side that simply went back to scrolling on her datapad.

You are an Agent of the Imperial Security Bureau, he reminded himself silently as he stretched and laced his fingers into a tight fist behind his back for the dozenth time. The lift doors eventually opened and released him from what he deemed an unmercifully eternal crawl, and the pair began down the long hallway toward the robotics department that sat at its very end.

Kallus felt like every step he took somehow mysteriously added another two as he walked down the narrow corridor that he could’ve sworn was much shorter the last time he was there. He blinked hard a few times to regain his composure, and as the two finally entered through the large, open doorway they found the front area empty. The blonde assistant absentmindedly stepped forward to ring the bell on the counter and Kallus glared down at her before he barked quietly, “you’re here to observe only, understood?”

“Yes, sir,” the girl responded before taking a few steps back and settling well behind him.

A few seconds later, a green astromech rolled out from behind a row of shelves and began to beep loudly before abruptly returning to wherever it came from. Shortly after Roan appeared, her sleeves rolled up high and coveralls covered in patches of dark grease. Her cap was long gone along with her regulation hair bun that was now just a long, messy braid that fell loosely over her shoulder.

As soon as she made eye contact with him she dropped the length of the large wrench she was carrying through her hand until she held it nimbly by its end, deliberately making it a formidable weapon before his eyes. She casually walked up to the counter, tossing it heavily onto a workstation, without stopping or breaking eye contact along the way before she stood in front of him silently staring him down harder than any other officer ever had.

He had never been so turned on in his life and had to shuffle his feet in a feeble attempt to release the sudden build-up of energy.

“I hope you are well,” he asked as confidently as his voice would allow.

Her hazel green eyes just stared back, slowly and mercilessly chipping away at his composure.

“I wanted to apologize in person for the ramifications of my actions last week. I’m sorry that it took me this long-“

“It’s fine. Anything else?” she asked tersely, her gaze never leaving his.

“I, I,” he stammered before he snapped his fingers behind him at the assistant who immediately placed a small device in his hand. “I don’t want you to feel like I’m trying to buy an apology, but this is an invitation to a very exclusive off-world party being hosted by a prominent financier. I thought perhaps getting out of here for a night would be a start to showing you that I truly am sorry.”

“A date?” she asked dryly as she crossed her arms in front of her chest.

“No, an escape from this grease pit,” he retorted dryly.

The temperature in the work area raised a full Kelvin in a mere nanosecond as he instantly regretted his mistake. His whole body flushed hot and, although her expression didn’t change, he knew that she had noticed.

“I like my grease pit. Company is nice,” she said brusquely as she smirked smartly and nodded her head at the R3 unit that purred at her side.

“That’s not what I meant,” he replied delicately, the tactician in him carefully studying everything from the speed of her chest rising and falling with each breath to her subtle eye movements to her borderline hostile body language for any cue on how to proceed. He really didn’t want to upset her further, mostly because he wanted to get back on her good side so that she would go, but also because he now realized that she was a little bit terrifying when angry.

She was also incredibly hard to read, but he could tell, he thought at least, that she was thinking hard as her green eyes slowly scanned his face over. She sighed slightly before she reached out and took it. “I’ll see what I can do. I’m pretty busy though,” she said as she gestured at the empty work area behind her.

He cocked his head slightly and looked over her shoulder as she rolled her eyes and asked, “anything else, Agent?”

“No, Lieutenant,” he said simply as he straightened and turned on his heel.

They were safely in the lift again before he asked the assistant, “did you get what you needed?”

“Yes, sir,” she replied simply as she opened yet another tab on her datapad and began scrolling again.

The next night, there was a soft knock at her door and Roan reluctantly opened it to find the blonde assistant that had been with Agent Kallus the day before.

“Are you ready to go?” she asked, as she looked Roan up and down concernedly.

“Go where?”

“To the party,” the girl said slowly.

“Yeah, no. I’ve never been much for rubbing elbows with rich-,” Roan started.

“I highly recommend that you attend,” the girl interrupted with a look of serious concern on her face.

“And if I don’t,” Roan asked defiantly, crossing her arms and leaning against the door jam. The woman in front of her straightened, unnoticing that her perfectly tailored suit jacket lacked the one thing it needed to make Roan willingly leave her room, an officer’s plaque and the authority one came with.

Roan’s rank was more ceremonial than earned to some. Not that she hadn’t actually earned it, but it was given to her almost solely because much of the information she came into contact with when working with the hard drives in most of the droids was classified and no one wanted to transfer to compensate. Most people that knew this didn’t respect her for it, regardless of the fact that she had been a model employee with the Empire for over a decade, but the Agent’s assistant likely wasn’t one of them.

“He will come and get you himself and, trust me, neither of us wants that. Now, if you will, please follow me,” she said curtly.

Fuck.

“I don’t even know what I need to, I’m not dressed for-,” she tried to contest to no avail.

“That has all been arranged. We need to go now as we are on a tight schedule,” the woman interjected as she turned and began down the hall.

Roan could only roll her eyes hard as she sighed and begrudgingly followed her.

Neither woman said a single word until they reached the empty docking platform. There was a solitary ship but not a crewmember, or actually a single person for that matter, in sight.

“Where is everyone,” Roan asked as she looked around apprehensively. The sun had only just begun to set which meant that there should have been at least a handful of ships and dozens of people preparing for shift change, but the hangar was completely empty.

“This is where I leave you,” the woman said flatly as she motioned up the open boarding ramp of a small sleek Imperial spaceship that obviously did not belong anywhere near Lothal.

Roan cut the woman a hard side eye as she slowly ascended up into the ship. The boarding door closed immediately behind her and a voice that was becoming all too familiar beaconed her from the front of the cruiser.

“I was beginning to think you weren’t coming,” Kallus said lowly as he walked into view.

“I wasn’t planning to,” she scoffed sarcastically.

“Well, I’m happy you changed your mind,” he said down to her as he slowly walked by. This was the first time she could really appreciate the height difference between the two of them. He had at least a foot on her. Easily.

“It was implied I had no choice.”

He stopped suddenly and moved to stand directly behind her, “you always have a choice,” he said.

The sudden warmth of his breath against the bare skin of her neck made every muscle in her body instantly tense and she knew that he noticed as he quietly continued his way around to the other side of her completing what felt like a predatory circle before he finally faced her again.

Neither said a word as they stared each other down in their twisted little competition for dominance. There was the quiet sound of stretching leather before a robotic voice from behind her suddenly interrupted the tension, “I’m ready for her, sir.”

Roan narrowed her eyes at the Agent before he finally broke contact. She let out a small, silent breath as he looked to acknowledge the droid, “alright, we should rendezvous with the yacht in about two hours.”

“Two hours,” the droid questioned hesitantly as it looked Roan up and down, “has she even showered today?”

“Watch it,” Kallus growled at the same time that Roan shrugged and admitted that she hadn’t.

“Easy, killer,” she laughed slightly, “I’m sure the droid is a pro,” she winked as she disappeared with the machine.

Roan was right. The droid was a miracle worker and it was putting the finishing touches on her hair as the ship dropped out of hyperspace.

Kallus waited for as long as he could before he knocked on the door to the makeshift boudoir to let her know that it was time to disembark. He fumbled angrily with straightening the asymmetrically cut jacket to the suit that he had chosen to wear as the door finally opened and Roan stepped out, arms crossed and face stern.

“No,” was all she said.

“What do you mean no,” he asked, already knowing the answer. It was written all over her face and radiating from her body language.

“I’m not wearing this. It’s too much,” her arms were still crossed but now her was head tilted to convey her total annoyance at the situation.

“Well, you’re out of luck. It’s all I had them bring,” he said proudly of his win-win scenario.

“Wrong, I have what I came in,” she immediately volleyed back putting her hands on her hips defiantly.

“Step on board like that and they will immediately jettison you from the closest airlock. This is an exclusive civilian party,” his pride in his win now openly showing on his face.

Roan sighed heavily before conceding with a quiet snark, “this is gonna be the longest night of my life, I can feel it.”

I hope it is, he thought as he furtively stared in wonder at the creature before him. The assistant had perfectly narrowed down a half dozen or so dress selections based solely on what she had seen of the Lieutenant during their brief encounter and Kallus spent longer than he cared to admit choosing from those.

And he had chosen well.

A full, satin, steel blue skirt that completely swallowed the entire bottom half of the woman was held tightly just above her trim mid-drift by a thick belt of the same color. The skirt was topped with a sheer, perfectly tailored jacket that had thousands of hand-embroidered gold beads and crystals in a pattern that formed several large, detailed circles that managed to cover just enough of only what it needed to and contrasted with her warm skin tone perfectly. Its oversized collar elongated her neck beautifully and the wide V-shaped neckline that came to a point where it met with the belt showed just enough of her chest to be risky but not tasteless. The droid opted for a classic hairstyle that sat elegantly twisted at the base of her head with light tendrils that hung loosely around her face.

Around her neck was a simple necklace of three small rings, each encircling the other two to form a sort of symmetrical knot. It was simple, but lovely and contrasted starkly with the opulence of the gown, as was its purpose.

He had fully intended for her to be stared at and lusted over, to be the one every single person not only noticed but wanted as their own but looking at her standing there he suddenly realized that he might have overplayed his hand.

“At least you can clean up well,” she mocked him, snapping him back to reality, as another droid came on the overhead intercom.

“We are docked and ready for you to depart the ship, sir.”

“Shall we,” Kallus asked before he led her through the entryway and onto the mega-yacht where he literally buzzed at the thought that his real fun was just beginning.

“Oh,” he said as he pulled gently on her arm bringing her closer to him as they moved, “Call me Alexsandr, not Commander, Agent, or Kallus. Civilian, remember.”

“How about I call an air taxi,” she sighed heavily as they stepped into a large, open ballroom type area that was flanked by two large staircases, each leading up to a large balcony type area that was filled with people ranging from members of the Imperial Admiralty to influential war profiteers to Galactic Senators to any and everything in between.

Her face twisted into a stressed expression, and Alexsandr suddenly realized that he might have put her in over her head a little bit more than he anticipated. He gently tapped Roan’s elbow to get her attention, “let’s get a drink.”

He held out his elbow and she hooked her arm through it as they began to make their way through the center of the room. Just as he had hoped, every head in the room turned toward the woman in the blue dress. Kallus, however, made eye contact with every man that he caught staring at her, and the power that came with their embarrassment coupled with the arousal of knowing she was his was insatiable.

The two stopped at a high top bar that ran parallel to the farthest wall and he watched Roan turn back and continue to look intently around the lavishly decorated room as he ordered their drinks. When she turned to face forward she let out a loud cry and instinctively stumbled backward.

He reached out and caught her before she tripped over her feet, “it’s okay. She’s alright, I don’t think she’s ever seen the decraniated in person before,” he smiled and reassured the people around them as he struggled to hold onto the visibly shaken woman.

“Just don’t look at her,” he whispered down into her ear as he faced her away and pulled her closer to his chest. He held onto her shoulders tightly as she tried desperately to regain her composure.

“What is that,” she barely whispered.

He sighed heavily, “she’s basically a lobotomized slave.”

Roan swallowed hard and he could tell she was trying to collect herself enough to ask her next question, “does she..does she know?”

“No,” he said quietly. That might not have been a lie. He had seen a report connecting people going missing on Jedha shortly before these things went on the slave market. He hadn’t thought twice about it, but seeing her reaction to it gave him an unfamiliar and uncomfortable pause. He let go of her to reach toward the bar and produced a small glass that she took and downed in one gulp.

“You might want to pace yourself. They don’t play around here,” he warned her sternly, but the look in her eye made him hand her the other drink, which she also downed just as quickly. She stood in silence for a few seconds with her eyes closed, breathing slowly.

“Will you be alright?” he asked as he turned back and handed her a tall, long stemmed glass. “It’s water, you should have some hors d’oeuvres too,” he suggested as he took her arm and led her away from the bar and the abomination behind it.

“I’ll be fine. I learned to keep my emotions in check a long time ago,” she said dryly.

The pair only made it a few steps before a loud voice yelled over the crowd, “Gods in the stars! Is that Alexsandr Kallus?”

Kallus turned just in time to be punched hard in the shoulder by a short, white haired man in his late fifties. “I haven’t seen you in ages, son. How have you been?”

“I’ve-,”

“Now, who is this?” the man interrupted him, taking a hold of Roan’s free hand and bringing it to his wrinkled face for a kiss, much to the dismay of the younger woman behind him.

“Roan this is Ala-,”

“Call me Boom,” he interrupted again and Alexsandr noticed that she couldn’t stifle a laugh from watching his face immediately twist up in annoyance.

“Always got a stick up his ass, this one,” he said behind his hand as he pointed his thumb back at the visibly irked Agent.

“You noticed that as well?” Roan joked and the old man laughed so hard that most of the room stopped to look. “I don’t know how he walks sometimes,” she leaned in and whispered loudly, much to the old man’s delight.

“Oh, Kallus,” the man wheezed, “I hate to do this, but may I speak with you in private. Don’t worry,” he said suddenly serious and pointing at Roan, “we are gonna continue this later.”

“I’m so looking forward to it,” she smirked up at Alexsandr before she turned and made her way through a parting sea of partygoers.

Thankfully, the conversation with Boom was short, sweet, and to the point and Alexsandr was back looking through the crowd for Roan in no time. He found her situated comfortably in a far corner with an Admiral, arms smuggler, and two senators laughing wildly at a story the smuggler was vividly acting out more than he was verbalizing.

He stopped and watched in somewhat awe that this lowly Lieutenant stationed on an outer rim hellhole, that spent all of her time with robots, could converse so easily, so casually, with some of the most powerful and intimidating people in the galaxy.

He had studied her file the day they met. Roan Kalivoda was originally from Canto Bight; therefore, he assumed she would be used to, or at least aware of, how this type of society maintained itself. He was majestically wrong. She was an absolute savant.

The smuggler suddenly threw his glass against a wall and Kallus instinctually began to make his way over before the group erupted into raucous laughter, Roan tossed her head back and gingerly brushed her fingertips across the skin between her collarbones as she laughed.

The Admiral took the opportunity to put his hand deep on her lower back and the Agent felt a white-hot fury suddenly ignite exactly where he wanted it to, but his ‘date’ was a professional. She immediately and nonchalantly turned to face him, but when she did she took a very small step backward and put her arm on top of his, essentially using physics to remove his unwanted touch without him noticing. She downed the last of her water and used the empty glass as a reason to remove herself from the situation. Every single one of them looked genuinely dismayed as they watched her glide away and Kallus reveled in his joy, ignited by their disappointment, that he felt creep through him.

The Agent covertly walked over to a large sculpture by a buffet and watched her diligently as she nonchalantly walked over to another group, this one including an incredibly wealthy banker (the one throwing the party) and the powerful dignitary of a planet that the Empire had just taken over due to a newly discovered depository of a highly valuable resource. She casually ingratiated herself flawlessly and the two men were not at all subtle in their attempts to volley for her attention. Their overinflated and unrestrained arrogance, while humiliating for them, was an all-consuming aphrodisiac for him.

Kallus perked up when he noticed another dignitary walking toward her, this one being from a culture with a very distinct greeting and a heavy emphasis on respect. However, before he even finished the thought she had turned to face the man and meticulously performed the intricate greeting as if it were second nature, much to his delight.

Alexsandr felt an electric heat pulsing through him watching these men almost fall over themselves vying for her attention. In return, she smiled sweetly, occasionally played with his necklace lying around her neck, and ran her index finger ever so slowly up and down the still empty glass that she held with such unconscious seduction that the captain himself probably would’ve handed over the keys to the vessel had she simply asked.

Kallus suddenly realized that he needed to excuse himself.

*** Upon his return, he immediately found that Roan was standing alone, incredibly close to, and in very deep conversation with the banker, Cep Thurn. They met eyes and the man shot him a snobbish smirk before he made a show of returning his attention to his conversation with her. Kallus couldn’t help the animalistic sound that came from his throat before he marched across the room and shoved the man away from her.

“She is mine!” he growled before he turned and grabbed her by the arm, “and I’ll make sure every damn one of you knows it!” He pushed the woman backward towards a small table and pulled the tablecloth from its edge hard causing its contents to clamor to the floor. The noise instantly caused the entirety of the room to stop and look at them.

Once he knew he had everyone’s attention, he grabbed Roan by her hips and hoisted her up onto the edge of the table as she yelped in surprise.

He took a step forward so that his face was directly in front of hers, “just be a good girl for me,” he told her in a rough, deep whisper as he pulled up handfuls of the fabric of her skirt until the hemline was finally at her waist.

“Alexsandr!” she screamed as he reached both hands under her legs and ripped the lace panties she was wearing in half before throwing the two pieces to the floor.

He quickly grabbed her chin and held her face up to his, “what did I say,” he asked as he brushed his thumb across her lips.

“Alex,” she started quietly before he leaned down and turned his face so that it fit with hers.

“Say it,” he instructed her, so close to her mouth that he could smell her breath

“Be a good girl,” she exhaled as he nodded and slowly began to run his fingers down her neck.

He looked up to make sure that Cep was still looking when he came to the notch in her collarbones, the one that she had so innocently played with all night before he slowly crept down the smooth, blushing skin exposed by the gown’s plunging neckline. He could feel her muscles trembling under his fingertips as he moved down over her belt and underneath the satin bunched up in her lap.

He returned his gaze to hers as he flipped his wrist and slid one finger between her. He let his fingertip linger in her wetness before moving upwards at an achingly slow pace. She gasped and her eyes fluttered shut at his touch and he put his hand behind her head to keep her face touching his. Her ragged breath against mouth made him throb harder than he ever had in his life and he would’ve gladly killed anyone watching to get more of it.

“Do you like the way I touch you?” he asked, his eyes flickering around the room to make sure he still had complete command of it.

She nodded shakily.

“Say it,” he growled lowly as he began to make small, soft circles around her clitoris.

“I like it,” she whimpered quietly.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked moving only his eyes to stare down his measly competition as she answered.

“No.”

“Do you want me to take you in front of all of these people? To let them watch me absolutely brutalize you unrelentingly as you cry out for more and more,” he trailed off. He delicately dragged his nose across her cheek as he turned his head. “Say it,” he whispered in her ear.

Her breath caught before she finally whispered, “yes.”

“Good girl,” he whispered back reaching down and quickly unbuckling his pants that he let drop to the floor. He looked up again as he hooked his hands on the inside of each of her thighs and ripped them open causing her to let go of the edge of the table and fall back on her elbows.

He stepped forward, between her now wide opened legs and slid one arm around her waist, and used his other hand to guide himself to her opening before thrusting himself hard and deep into her.

She let out a loud cry as her head fell back and her fingers grasped at the surface of the table. He grabbed her hips tightly with both hands to anchor himself both mentally and physically as he pulled back and thrust hard again.

She was so tight that he almost lost himself before he even began and he glared up at Cep to keep himself centered as he began to move in and out of the woman that the man had dared to even look at. His face was more than enough to give Kallus what he needed as he returned his undivided attention back to Roan.

The force of him repeatedly plunging himself hard into her had caused her back to arch high and her chest to face up and out and a maniacal grin crossed his face as he let go of her hips long enough to reach up and rip the fabric of the gown’s top from where it was sewn into the belt leaving her breasts exposed to everyone in the room. She instantly looked up at him and he smiled as her bare skin flushed bright red.

The sight of her hardened nipples jerking back and forth made him grow even harder inside of her and he slowed his pace as he began to run his hands up her soft body. Her skin instantly prickled as his fingertips traced lightly across the skin of her belly and she clamped down hard around him when his hands cupped and grabbed her breasts, pinching her nipples between his middle and index fingers on both hands.

She left out a small cry and squeezed down around him so hard that he had to put his left arm back around her waist to keep himself inside of her. A low laugh escaped his throat as he took her right nipple between his fingertips hard causing her to moan loudly and wrap her legs around his waist.

He continued his assault with his fingers, alternating between pinching her nipple hard and massaging her breast until he felt her legs begin to quiver and her breathing suddenly become much more exasperated.

“Alex,” she whimpered as she leaned up closer to him, “gods..I’m,” she didn’t finish before the shaking turned into violent spasms and she suddenly threw herself backward screaming loud enough for the next system to hear.

He didn’t stop when she did though. He leaned over her and grabbed the edges of the table behind her shoulder and to her side before looking straight at Cep as he slammed himself hard into her again. His pace quickened and he was surprised that the small table had held up for so long.

Everything began to melt away: the entire party, his make-believe competition, the universe, even Roan. It all dwindled away to just himself and his desire when suddenly he was brought back to reality by the sound of someone behind him.

“Are you alright in there,” a monotonal voice asked again just as Kallus came hard into the urinal in front of him.

“I was!” he yelled back in frustration as he put one arm out to lean against the wall in front of him.

“Alright,” the barely human voice said before quiet footsteps let him know he was alone again. ***

Kallus quickly cleaned up and made his way back to the party. He scanned over the floor but Roan was nowhere to be found, so he then slowly made his way up one of the room’s ornate staircases, rescanning the floor for her as he ascended, but to no avail.

When he reached the balcony, he found her in a far corner talking intimately with Cep. His breath caught tight in his chest and he almost, for a split second, stormed over but managed to stop himself just as quickly. He took in a long inhale and instead hubristically walked over to the pair and casually interjected himself into their conversation.

“Alexsandr,” Roan began with a suspicious side-eye up at him, “this is Cep Thurn. We were just having a lovely conversation about the exquisite art collection onboard his beautiful ship,” she said with a shy smile.

“I don’t know if I would call it exquisite,” the man laughed with feigned modesty. “Maybe more of a well-curated investment that’s nice to look at. Though not nearly as nice as you, my dear.”

Roan blushed slightly and Kallus tried hard not to roll his eyes into the back of his head. “I hadn’t realized you were a collector. I’m assuming you keep your better pieces elsewhere,” he asked with a not so subtle hint of sarcasm.

Cep Thurn scoffed, “the painting behind you is worth more than the ship you flew here on.”

“I've always found boasting is typically the result of deep insecurity,” Kallus said mockingly as a man approached from their side and whispered something into Cep’s ear and Roan rubbed her left temple.

“Forgive my lack of decorum,” he retorted coolly to Kallus, “but I must step away. Perhaps I can show you my private collection when I return,” he offered to Roan as he bowed slightly and walked away with the man.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Kallus grabbed Roan by her arm and pulled her in front of him, “be careful around him.”

“Read the room, Alexsandr. No one here is really safe to be around,” she said sarcastically as she waved her hand out.

He gave her a long look that made her turn her head to the side in deep contemplation before she narrowed her eyes, “what exactly did you mean, then?”

He looked around before he leaned down and whispered into her ear, “he’s a mark.”

She stood perfectly still long enough to start making him nervous before she clasped her hands in front of her chin. “Let me get this straight,” she hissed. “You brought me on a fucking mission?”

“An easy one,” he tried to retort with humor much to her chagrin.

She glared at him with complete fury before he immediately back-peddled, “seriously, he’s harmless. It’s a simple plan. I’m just here to plant-“

“You didn’t tell me,” she whispered angrily as she pushed her finger hard into his chest. “What if something goes wrong?”

“You would be fine. Between Boom and I-.”

“Oh, the man I just met for four seconds? You sure do like playing hard and fast with my well-being,” she fired back.

“Look,” he said quietly as he gently pulled her toward a window in a corner, “he’s been tied to a rebel cell. Everyone on this ship is on the Empire’s payroll. You would be absolutely fine seeing how you’ve made friends with literally everyone here.” He looked down at her reassuringly but he could tell her mind was racing.

“Fine,” she conceded quietly as she shook her head and looked away. “But we are leaving as soon as you’ve done your job.”

Fuck. He was instantly annoyed. It really was a simple job, Boom had already done the hardest part and now he regretted even telling her and ruining his evening just as it was getting started.

“Let’s get a drink,” he offered with a little more frustration than he intended as he held his elbow out for her.

“I’ve had enough,” she said simply as she lightly took it and looked out across the crowd.

The two of them casually and inconspicuously moved around the room waiting for Cep to return. The alcohol had begun to take hold and conversations were suddenly far livelier. Some escalated into full debates, others into funny competitions, and one into an actual fight that was broken up quickly and mended with more alcohol. It was a perfect cover, no one would notice or remember much of anything in the morning.

The banker didn’t return for quite a while, but when he did, Kallus noticed that he immediately made his way across the room, straight to Roan.

“Forgive my delayed absence,” he told the woman as he held out his arm, “but, I believe I owe you an exclusive tour of an, exquisite, I believe it was, art collection.”

“I believe you are correct,” she replied with an obviously and hilariously faked core accent but a sincere smile as she took his arm.

Kallus had to fight the urge to punch him square in his cocky face as he pushed past him.

The two were about halfway through the room before she finally looked back at Alexsandr and gave him a small, subtle nod.

What was that about, he wondered as the two disappeared through the crowd.

He shook himself out of his thoughts before he turned his attention to finding Boom. A few laps around, in, and between the crowd yielded no result and Kallus suddenly had an uneasy feeling. Hopefully, he had done his part well and was just holed up somewhere with the girl he had brought with him.

The Agent sighed hard and made his way out of the banquet room and into a long, narrow hallway that led to a service lift at its end. He had memorized the floor plan and schematics of the ridiculously large yacht beforehand and he knew exactly where the best places to quickly hide his listening devices would be.

He was at the elevator doors when they suddenly opened in front of him, and as two of the decraniated slaves stepped off he quickly rolled to his right and ducked down out of their field of vision. The two continued without incident and he quietly snuck onto the lift.

He dug into an interior jacket pocket to pull out one of the devices as he placed a small earpiece into his left ear. A sudden sound of static was followed by low murmurs and his heart immediately fell into his stomach.

The devices were gone, and one of the voices in the earpiece belonged to Roan.

He quickly pushed the emergency stop button on the lift and put his hand over his right ear to hear better, but he could only make out pieces of sentences and he assumed she was still holding onto all of them together.

“…a long time..” Cep’s voice said lowly followed by the sound of the mics rubbing together.

“I’m not-,” he heard Roan say clearly.

He couldn’t make out what Cel said next, but his tone had suddenly changed and the hairs on the back of Kallus’ neck immediately stood up.

“Cep, don’t-,” he heard Roan say as he quickly slammed the button for the highest floor, the private residence.

Stupid, you shouldn’t have let her go with him alone, he scolded himself. He honestly hadn’t considered the man a threat and, in so, had incorrectly assumed Roan’s safety by proxy of himself. It was the second time he had made that mistake and it was also the last.

The lift moved quickly and the doors opened up to a startled Cep and Roan standing at the far corner of a large, darkened room. The only supply of light came from individual fixtures that sat above each of five paintings hanging half of a meter from the next along a wall the two were facing.

“Alexsandr,” Roan asked, “what are you doing?”

“Get away from him,” he yelled sternly as he pulled out the small blaster that he had smuggled on board and pointed it directly at Cep’s head.

“What-,” she began before Cep grabbed her arm and pulled her into his chest facing out toward Kallus.

“Stupid man,” he spit as he pulled out a small knife and put it to Roan’s throat, “what exactly was your plan here?”

“Let her go and I’ll kill you quickly,” he threatened darkly bringing his left hand up to the hilt of the weapon hoping to insinuate to the man his seriousness.

“Really? This area is being monitored. My men will be here any second,” Cep snarked confidently.

“Except that my man sliced into your pathetic little security system earlier. No one is seeing anything,” Kallus replied with a sarcastic shake of his head.

“I see,” Cep replied cautiously, his eyes flittering around the room. “Do you believe him,” he asked down into Roan’s ear as he made a show of tightening his grip on her.

“Yes,” she said simply without taking her eyes off of Alexsandr.

“Then, I believe we are at an impasse,” he sighed defeatedly. “Perhaps a deal? You put down the blaster and I give you the girl. You might make it off ship before my security team catches you, but that I cannot guarantee.”

Kallus looked him up and down before he replied, “put down the knife first.”

“Do you really think you have time for negotiations,” Cel asked pompously.

“Consider it an act of good faith then. This is between the two of us, not her,” Kallus said as calmly as his rising temper would allow.

“Alexsandr,” Roan said slowly and with a not so subtle hint of suggestion. “Just do what he says.”

She nodded her head toward him as if trying to convey something telepathically, never taking her eyes away from his. He hesitated for a long moment before he nodded and slowly lowered to the floor and put the blaster down before kicking it across the room into the dark. As he stood he put his hands in the air, “now let her go.”

Her expression remained stoic and her eyes locked on Kallus’ as the man leaned down and whispered something into her ear before he threw the knife across the floor.

“I’m a man of my word,” he said cynically as he pushed her forward. “Many sunrises, Ms. Kalivoda,” he called out as she stumbled away from him and he pulled a coms link from his pocket.

“Let’s go,” Kallus yelled as he reached out and grabbed Roan by the arm, and dragged her onto the lift. “There should be six on his security team. I’ve hailed our ship and it should be docked below,” he told her as the elevator dropped. He was in full Agent mentality and barely realized that she didn’t say anything in return, but before he could ask the doors opened and two large guards came running toward them from across the hangar.

“Stay behind me,” he ordered as he stepped out in front of her.

He met the first guard head-on as the second hesitated long enough to radio in for backup. The two moved in tandem, but neither was a match for Kallus’ size or training. The first went down relatively quickly and as he landed a hard right to the face of the second he heard a small squeal come from behind him. He turned in time to watch a third guard that had stepped off of the lift grab Roan from behind.

The woman instantly reached up and wrapped her arms around the man’s neck as she jumped as high as she could. When she came down, she went into a crouched position and used her downward force to pull the man over her shoulders, bringing a billowing blue cloud of satin with him. He landed flat on his back knocking the air out of his lungs and rendering him temporarily defenseless.

“Are you alright,” Kallus asked as he quickly stepped around the man writhing on the ground and pulled her toward him.

“Yes. We need to go before the other two get here,” she told him as the lift doors started to close but opened again before they met, only to try to close again.

Kallus looked over her shoulder to see a fourth guard lying halfway in and halfway out of the lift. “Did you-,” he started.

“Are we going now,” she asked abruptly as she stepped around him.

He cocked his head questioningly, but before he could try to ask again the man at his feet caught his breath and swept his leg around causing Kallus to fall hard to the ground. A sharp, intense pain shot up his arm as he landed and he let out a loud cry as his arm gave out and he rolled to his side.

The guard quickly pushed himself up and looked over at Roan as she turned toward the commotion. The man let out a low, chilling laugh as he menacingly shook his head and began toward her. Kallus instinctively reached out to grab him but yelped in excruciating pain as soon as he made contact, and when he pulled his hand back he found that he had dislocated both his ring and middle fingers in the fall.

His chest tightened hard when he looked back up and saw Roan backing away from the guard as he slowly and menacingly walked toward her.

“Stop,” she said quietly as she lifted out her left hand in front of her in a feeble attempt at creating a barrier between herself and her aggressor.

The guard said something that Kallus couldn’t quite make out and Roan’s expression changed.

“That’s unfortunate,” she replied as she pulled her right hand out from behind her and shot the man in the chest with a blaster that she had picked up from one of the other fallen guards.

Roan just stood and looked blankly at the body on the ground in front of her as Kallus scrambled to her side.

“Roan,” he said quietly as he gently took the weapon from her hand that was hanging limply by her side, her soft skin heavily contrasting the cold metal of the weapon. “We have to go.”

She nodded her head as he turned her around and led her through the gangway connecting the yacht to their ship.

“Get us out of here,” he yelled loudly as they entered and he hit the button to disconnect and sat her down.

The ship jerked loose and a few seconds later a familiar push against gravity let Kallus know that they were safely in hyperspace.

She just sat quietly and unnervingly tense and he watched her stare into space as she absentmindedly picked at her cuticles for what felt like an eternity before he finally spoke up.

“What can I do?”

She blinked a few times before she looked at him confusedly, “what?”

“You’re having a trauma response. What can I do to help,” he asked as he gently reached over to stop her fingers from tearing at their own skin.

She flinched hard when he touched her and he immediately pulled back. He somehow felt as if her hard green eyes pierced right through his very being when she looked up at him, “I’ll be fine,” she whispered almost sadly.

The complete antithesis of the woman that had just previously floated effortlessly through one of the most intimidating crowds Kallus had ever seen now sat quietly in front of him and her stark transformation was completely his fault. His guilt began to manifest physically in his chest as he struggled to find the words, any words, to begin to reconcile. Assuming it was even possible at this point.

“Roan,” he began before her brow suddenly furrowed.

“Your hand,” she said as she stood up and moved to the seat to his left.

“Don’t deflect,” he said seriously as she sat down.

She completely ignored his words. “This is a little more pressing,” she told him as she delicately picked up his hand and looked at his two mangled fingers. She shook her head as studied his injury, “I need reset them quickly. One of the nail beds is beginning to turn blue.”

“Have you done this before,” he asked cautiously.

“Unfortunately,’ was all she said as she looked up at him.

Suddenly, and without breaking eye contact, she pulled out hard on his ring finger as she quickly pushed her thumb upwards against the dislodged bone forcing it back into place.

He let out a loud startled cry and instinctively pulled his hand away but before he could protest she reached over and yanked it back.

“Breathe in,” was the only warning she gave before she repeated the process on his ring finger.

“Fuck,” he breathed heavily as she meticulously ran her fingers gently over the length of each of his inspecting her work. Her warm skin against his was soothing and the thrill of her touch was a strong and addictive analgesic.

She sat his hand back in his lap and stood. “I’ll be right back,” is all she said before she disappeared into the front of the ship.

He watched her glide away as he tried his hardest to will the feeling of her soft skin against his to stay with him longer.

She returned a few minutes later with the ship’s first aid kit and swiftly set both fingers in a simple splint before she popped a cold pack and placed it on top of his hand. “You should have them looked at when we return,” she informed him as she dug around in the kit.

“I will. Thank you,” he told her sincerely as she pulled out and opened a packet containing two small pills.

She dropped them to the floor and made a gesture of smashing them with her heel as she stood and walked away.

I deserve that.

#agent kallus #hot kallus #kallus fanfiction #kallus #rebel kallus #star wars #star wars rebels #star wars rebels fanfiction #we need more kallus #not kalluzeb

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basenji18 · 4 years ago

Text

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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oikaw-ugh · 4 years ago

Note

HI BABE NUMBER 4 FOR THE CHARACTER QUESTIONNAIRE PLSSSS

HELLO SOPH! NO WORDS CAN EXPRESS HOW I’M SO HAPPY THAT I GET TO SHARE MY OC IMSUCHANERD-

Full name

Nakajima Fujita (Breathing form: Breath of Art)

Preferred name/nickname

Fujita (for the lOVE OF GOD, DO NOT CALL HER FUJI SHE HATES IT)

Generally referred to as

The one with the brother complex HAHAHAHAHAH

Appearance.

Speech.

Sex: Female

Height: She’s gonna kill me for this but she’s 5 flat :’)

Weight: Somewhere around 55-75 kilos hehe

Build: She used to be thin but when she became a slayer, she started developing curves.

Hair: Her hair is long, it reaches up to her waist and is jet black in color. Maria (another OC from this universe) once suggested she should cut her hair but she refused because her brother likes it long. HAHAHAHHA

She used to bun it at all time but it becomes a hassle during missions so she buns half of her hair instead, the rest on lose.

Skin: Described as ‘porcelain and smooth’ by Amida (another OC from this universe) and is prone to sunburn so she hates travelling at day which is inevitable lol.

Eyes: Her eyes are crimson red in color. Maris likes to joke that she has ‘bloodshot eyes’. As for shape, they are round, almost similar to a doll.

Mouth: Thin.

Hands: Smail and slim. They used to be very smooth but she started earning callouses the longer she is a slayer.

Feet: Small.

Scars: None.

Other features: None.

Noteable features: Amida, Maria, and Junko (the other 3 OCs) kept on saying she reminded them of Japanese dolls.

Mannerisms.

Accent: None

Verbal Ticks: None

Language: Let’s assume they speak Nihonggo.

Articulation: She loves to use poetic words. By poetic, we mean words that are not familiar to Amida just to piss him off. For some reason, explaining herself is a difficult task for her. She just expects anyone to immediately understand her.

Laughter: She mostly scoffs, especially when she mocks Amida and Maria (lmao she has no guts to mock Junko. I mean, who does?) for doing something stupid. But when she’s genuinely happy, she laughs so loud and it’s very contagious, she’d even snort.

Grump: None

Breathing: Fujita is usually composed but when she finds something new or interesting, you’d hear her gasp like a child and it’s cute.

Health:

Face: She squints her eyes as if she’s reading whenever she tries to think. Also, she always has this scowling face and Amida, Junko, and Maria are convinced that she’s just disgusted with everything. kinda true.

Hands: None.

Legs/Feet: None

Habits: She likes to run her fingers through her hair or to play with the tips of her strands. It’s a coping mechanism.

Posture: Very poised! ‘Lady-like’ the way she was taught to pose.

Walking posture: Very poised as well.

Sitting posture: Very well-mannered (especially in Japan’s way of sitting? Where your knees are folded?)

Personal space: She hates people who stand or sit too close to her...well, except her brother and her husband :))))

Spacial awareness: VERY MUCH AWARE! She’d flinch at almost everything she finds disgusting. A slight brush of your skin would send her yeeting!

Personal.

Diet: Picky-eater. She loves sweets, tho.

Sleep: She sleeps early! Her maids always made sure she slept early so it became a habit.

Excercise: Nope. She hates physicaly activities despite being a demon slayer.

Activity: She does not like to move a lot. She even lets Maria do the chores. She expects everyone to work for her, similar to how the maids work for her all the time. Ik it's weird because she's a slayer, she's supposed to be very active but nah

Cleanliness: SHE HATES GETTING DIRTY. Which is a problem since she slays demons for a living.

Odour: Amida once said she smelled like home :’))) Maria said she smelled exoensive and Junko said she smelled like water.

Medical drugs: None

Narcotics: None

Addictions: None

Illness: None

Injuries: None

Parasites: None

Other:

The Past.

Introvert/Extrovert: I would say an extro. She’s from a wealthy family and is very confident on everything she does. In fact, she approached Amida and Maria first (the reason why they became friends)

Optimist/Pessimist: in between? She doesn’t really care of what happens.

Gender: Female

Sexuality: She knew she was straight. Then she met Amida, a bisexual. And that...kinds of blow her off to this day.

Romantic: She’s never tried it and she feels like she would never. bUT SIKEEEE she is now married.

Memory: Depends. If it’s about her brother, then yes. It’s sharp. But if it’s about her friends, kind of sharp. But if it’s about things she doesn’t give a fuck, no. Her memory sucks. If it's about her husband, though...she remembers every little thing about him which I find cute.

Planning: No. She goes with the flow most of the time. Maria and Amida does all the planning in their missions (they do missions together).

Pensive: No. But if the actions has been done...she’d overthink of it whether if it was too much or stuff.

Intuition: Kind of...good of making right decisions at the same time no. She’s very spontaneous, I can’t tell.

Goals: TO KILL ALL THE DEMONS.

Insecurities: None. She’s ‘perfect’.

Achievements: She killed the demon who killed her brother. Well, we’d like to think of it that way. She raided the demon den where her brother was assigned to raid and she killed every single one of them successfully.

Anxiety: Back when her brother was still alive, she’s always anxious if his letters during missions wouldn’t come. But know, she's afraid of losing her friends, especially that they separated ways after the defeat of demons.

Overwhelmed: During her brother’s death, she felt everything was too much she actually ran away from her own home. She was also very overwhelmed when a cErTain sOmEonE asked for her hand in marriage

Self-help: Dealing with her own problems, she kinds of let the others do it for her :))) (she used to order Amida around and she’d pay him with her money lmao)

Comforts: Her brother. Unfortunately, he’s gone. But now, she finds comfort from Maria, Junko, and Amida (especially Amida).

Philosophy: OOOOH I haven’t thought of that.

Triggers: Mention of her brother, death from demons, demons, Amida getting hurt (this is rooted to the fact that she kinds of see her brother on Amida or something) and her friends getting hurt.

She also thinks it’s very important for her, Maria, and Junko to marry someone wealthy after they retire which Maria and Junko objects as they had their experiences with men. She'd eventually take this back though as no rich man has given her the happiness and contentment Amida was able to offer.

Parents/Guardians: Her father is old but is very supportive of his children. She’s very close to his brother so when she found out about his sudden death, she did not take it easy. She ran away, swearing that she’d kill the demon who killed him.

Along the way she found Amida, Maria, and Junko. Spontaneous as they can be, the four became demon slayers and they had to return to her home for temporary refuge.

School: No. But she was pampered well by her household.

Adolescence: She actually tried to shape herself into someone her brother would love.

Leaving home: She swore she’d kill the demon who killed her brother, resulting to her suddenly running away. Though she came back months after, wounded, along with Maria, Amida, and Junko as they came from a bloody mission and they needed temporary refuge. Her father was surprised and somehow upset but was more glad that he finally knew what has happened to his daughter.

Further education:

Life events: She ran away from home, went to different villages and she eventually met Amida (I’m not gonna describe too much since this is a huge event for Amida), she eventually met Maria who is a Demon Slayer which enticed her to join as well.

Worst day of their life: When demon slayers went to her household, bringing along with them his brother’s blood and torn uniform.

Lessons: She learned that though her brother would never come back, she can at least avenge him.

Looking back: She never regretted the things she did. She never regretted staining her hands for the sake of her brother.

Relationships.

Interactions.

Family: Redundant but her brother is very important to her but now, she gained new friends she consider as family. As for Amida, she finds him very special. It’s either because he reminded her of her brother or it’s because of how Amida looked like when they first met.

In the future, Fujita would return home after the demon's defeat and she'd have surprise visits from Amida who was looking for "solace". These visits became something she anticipates, almost similar to the feeling when she awaits for her brother's letters. And before she knew it, she grow more fond of Amida each visit. She fell in love.

Friendships: She had lady friends from different household but she never felt the sense of friendship not until she met Maria, Fujita, and Amida.

Friends in need: Fun fact: When she saw Amida for the first time, she was horrified and so, she treated him with good clothing and good food.

Annoyance: Dealing with arguments, expect Fujita to SCREAM a lot. She wants to prove her point. She wants everyone to understand her and she thinks screaming is the best way to extend her thoughts.

Romance: She liked the thought but dismissed it anyways as she cannot imagine herself living the rest of her life with someone who is not her brother. She does see herself marrying someone wealthy once she retires.

SIKE! SHE MARRIED AMIDA.

Marital problems: None so far.

Adversaries: -

Enemies: DEMONS. And anyone who hurts her friends and brother.

Strangers: She does not hold back when she’s with strangers so people who do not know her think she’s actually very arrogant (which she is) and bitchy. It’s just her personality, though.

Fun stuff: SHE LOVES PAINTING, HENCE HER BREATHING FORM (BREATH OF ART). She likes Haiku and paintings!

Dating: None because she's married.

Best friend: Amida, Maria, and Junko

Love: She considers her brother her love of her life. Whether it is romantically or not, I have no clue. This was her thinking not until she fell in love with Amida.

Respect: She respects no one but her friends and her brother. Especially Maria, she respects her so much.

I’m not gonna include Life ‘cause most of it don’t apply to them hehehehe

Mingling: She does not go along with others well due to her personality.

Comfort levels: She does not feel anxious or bothered when talking to people. It should be the other way around. How dare they bother her-

Physical: No she doeesn’t like affectionate actions.

Group: She’s fine with groups. She doesn’t feel anxious. It should be the other way around.

Jealous: She’s jealous of those who still have their brother on their side.

Temper: SHORT. She likes it when she annoys others but annoy her once, she won’t hesitate using her breathing form on you.

Empathy: She surprisingly empathize to those who lost their loved ones from demons.

Affectionate: She shows her affectionate like a tsundere would do. She’d be subtle and like, defensive when caught in the act HAHAHAH

Distaste: I know that she use to emphasize how she is disgusted with Amida but it’s her Tsundere self kicking in. When she really dislikes someone, she’d ignore them completely.

Responsibility: The only responsibility she knows is keeping herself alive and keeping her friends safe. That’s all.

Self-esteem: HIGH. VERY CONFIDENT. You can say she is the spokesperson of the group.

Honesty: She’s very honest with her thoughts. But if you want her to speak of something personal, now that’s difficult. But surprisingly, she opens to Amida very easily.

Leader or follower: Follower. She admires Maria and thinks Maria knows what’s best especially on missions.

Praise: She loves praises! She likes it when people point out her well-done hair, her beautiful clothes, her beautiful breathing form. But let Amida compliment Fujita and you’d see her blushing as she tries to diss him >=}}}

Criticism: She will only accept them if they came from Maria or her brother.

Insults: She takes it hard! She’d think of that all the time and she’d try to prove it to you that you’re wrong. She’s basically a royalty! How dare you insult her?

Embarrassment: She takes compliments well....if they aren’t from Amida or his brother.

Flirting: This is a lowkey Tsundere, Ma’am. We know no flirting!

Attention span: Very short lived if she does not take interest in it. But let Maria speak and she’d be all ears.

---

I know no one asked but I have 4 OCs from Demon Slayer universe and I'd love to create this with them but I'm confused on which OC do I make one first.

So pick a number between 1 and 4 :) (Number 4 is out-)

#kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba fanart #kimetsu no yaiba oc #kny fanart #kny fandom #kny oc #demon slayer fanart #demon slayer oc #demon slayer fandom #leiart #leia does art #Fujita #NYAHAHHAHA

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