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ask-de-writer · 11 months

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WIND MEETS THE ROM : Part 2 of 27 :

MLP Fan Fiction

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WIND MEETS THE ROM

Part 2 of 27

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

Cover art by @wind-the-mama-cat

54212 words

Writing begun 06/01/18

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Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights. They may reblog the story provided that all author and copyright information remains intact. They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions.

All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.

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New to the story? Read from Part 1, here!

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As Wind was getting up she commented, “You are really good at not answering questions, aren't you, De Writer?”

Nodding agreeably, the old unicorn smiled, “Yep. Got lots of practice. About three thousand years of it, actually.”

As they strode across the grass, towards a woodland, Wind automatically searched with her eyes and other senses for possible dangers.

De Writer noticed it, too. “That is good, Wind. Always be on the lookout for dangers. Speaking of which, I have a Pro Tip for you. When facing down a good sized manticore, don't forget that the critter's tail is not there just for show. Not sure if you would have won, if you had not forgotten that, but your chances would have been a lot better.”

Wind paused to give the blue unicorn a long studying look. Shaking her head, she offered, “I don't know how you knew about that. Not even Penny or Mama Dragon knew about the manticore's tail getting me first.” She relaxed a little as she said doubtfully, “I am not sure why, but I sort of feel safe around you. Almost as if we had met before, but I am sure that I would remember a talking unicorn pony.”

The old one nodded agreeably, “You would certainly think so, wouldn't you?”

Topping a rise, he pointed. “See that road? Just where it goes into that copse of trees is a nice shady rest area complete with water and free firewood. There is a band of mostly horses camped there. The majority of the horses are actually unicorns with long horns, some straight and some with a little curve to them. They also have some Equestrian pegassi in the group. They are led by an old donkey.

They all speak Equestrian, which I know that you are fluent in. They also speak a second language called Gyptian which I am aware that you do not know. I would advise you to seek your rest cure there with Marchhare's band. They will probably seem a bit odd at times, but they are actually fine horses.

“Oh, second Pro Tip. As far as they are concerned, they are ALL HORSES. Even the ponies among them say the same. They regard being called ponies to be a bit of an insult.”

As she was striding down the hill, Wind nodded. “I will bear that in mind. Thank you, De Writer.” A few strides further, Wind turned, her eyes going wide with surprise. There was no obvious sign of the old blue unicorn. Trained examination of the grass showed his tracks and hers. Then, abruptly there were only hers.

Shaking her head, she muttered, “And, he knew where I was coming through and which way I would be facing. I wonder just how dangerous he would be if he was angry?”

While she was pondering that question, Wind came to the road itself. It took only a cursory look to realize that though it appeared to be a simple gravel road, it was actually far better made than any such road of her experience.

While she was strolling along the roadway, Wind was contemplating the sort of civilization that would put so much effort into a road. It was strong enough not to fear invaders taking over the land by usurping the roads. It was well connected internally and relied strongly on commerce.

She heard the music and laughter before she found the turn off for the wayside rest area. The sign, in the Equestrian that she knew, said

Royal Road

Red Branch Section

Wayside #7.

The music had two unique sounds to it. The solid ringing underbeat was clearly a smith hammering iron. The other was from flutes, some kind of stringed instruments and drums. Besides matching the rhythm of the smith, they had music going in scales and beats that Wind had never heard of before.

She entered the wayside area and paused to watch first. Basic adventuring skill, there. Try to understand a situation before getting involved in it. Four pegassi with the familiar pastel colors and patterns that she knew from Penny's world were getting some sort of dancing instruction from two big horse sized unicorns, one pure black with a snow white mane and tail and the other, slightly bigger was a chestnut brown sorrel. She noticed the donkey that she had been told of. He was in the group providing the music. He was working a pair of drums to produce a complex beat.

Apparently whatever the mares were telling the pegassi was done. They positioned themselves carefully and listened for a cue in the music. They lifted their wings and with perfect timing, gave a powerhouse of a down stroke that lifted them all into the air. It was easy to see that each move of the pegassi was not only made in time to the music, each of the dancers, no other term would do, was making a cohesive whole pattern with the other dancers.

The dancers touched the earth in a four part pose, the two at the rear had each raised a wing toward the other and fanned the opposite wing toward the audience. The other two dancers had alighted with inside forehooves pointing to the old donkey, and kneeling the other foreleg. Their wings were folded close.

All of the assembled, um, horses, leaned their heads back and trilled loudly when the performance ended. Realizing that this was applause, Wind felt like doing the same. The airborne dance was an amazing performance.

She noticed that the pegassi were luxuriating in the hugs given by the magic from the horn of a red roan mare who had gathered them close. The more that Wind observed, the greater the differences from any pony that she was familiar with became apparent. These, even the ones that were dancing in the sky, ALL wore brilliant colored sashes of amazing fabrics. There were satins, brocades and even plain looking cloth, all sorts of colors, cuts, sewed designs and embroidery. Even the foals, off to one side from the rest wore them.

Another thing that caught her eye were the harnesses worn by every one of the horses, even the foals. Besides being solid workaday harness, they were beautifully tooled and dyed. Even the donkey wore one.

She had been advised that they all could speak the Equestrian that she was familiar with but none were. The language that she was hearing was a fluid, almost musical tongue. Sourly, she remembered that the old blue unicorn had mentioned that, too.

The nearby foals were playing some sort of game involving chasing a ball about. It appeared that they were not using any magic, though most had horns. A miskick sent the ball hurtling toward Wind! Compared to some of the battles that she had been in, this was slow enough for her to think and override the impulse to use her now missing arm. Realizing from her observation that they did not hold the ball, Wind batted it from the air and sent it back to the pursuing foals with a well aimed kick of her own!

Foals charged after it, continuing their game.

She did notice that one of the foals left the game and trotted over to the old donkey.

After a brief conversation, the foal returned to the game, sashes catching the sun.

Wind decided that the time for concealment was over and walked in along the entrance road toward the camp.

The black and white unicorn mare left the dance group and trotted up to Wind. In delightfully accented Equestrian, she greeted, “Are you the Wind Whisper that old De Writer told us to watch for? If so, please feel welcome in our camp.”

Wind made a moue. “You were expecting me? Does that old blue unicorn tell everyone what I am doing?”

The black and white unicorn giggled behind her hoof before replying, “Not at all. I know that he spent a bit of time with my father Marchhare. He often does. They have been friends for something like 800 years. Dad told me to welcome you when you were done watching us from the shadows of the trees.”

Formally, the mare held forth a forehoof and said, “In the name of Marchhare, Rom of the band of Marchhare, I, Black Lotus, offer you, Wind Whisper, the hospitality of our band.”

Wind held out a hand and took Black Lotus' extended hoof and sniped back, “I, Wind Whisper, on behalf of myself, accept your generous invitation.”

Black Lotus's eyes twinkled as she offered, “You are just in time for lunch. Since we knew that you were coming and a carnivore, we caught a couple of bunnies and pulled some trout out of that stream over there. We baked them up into pasties along with eggs and some cheese. They should keep well.

“We did not know how you liked sweets or spices so they are pretty plain, right now.”

Pretending shock, Wind asked archly, “What, De Writer didn't let you know something that important?”

The old donkey had joined them, his elaborately tooled headstall complimenting his harness design excellently. He brayed, “Nope. He doesn't tell us everything. Very irritating of the old pony, too.”

Wind was sort of taken aback. “Um, how long have you known him?”

The old donkey replied seriously, “Me personally, about 800 years, give or take. For the rest of this crowd, all their lives. For the Rom as a whole, around 800 years. They ran into him shortly after I rescued their ancestors from the desert of Celestia's Anvil.”

The mare Black Lotus tapped the donkey between the ears and suggested, “Father, be a dear and go cast your shadow on the serving line for lunch. It is all ready. Do caution the others about the meat and fish pasties that I put up for our guest.”

“Go cast . . .” The old donkey looked down. He seemed sort of embarrassed as his shadow slowly appeared where sunlight had been shining. Directly through him, apparently. “Right, I will go help serve.”

Wind stared after the old donkey. He was casting a shadow now. The only giveaway that something about him was off kilter was the simple fact that he left no tracks.

Black Lotus calmly suggested, “I will tell you about father in a little. For now, let us go and get some food while there is any left!”

Wind glanced at her hostess with a snicker and suggested, “Race you?”

Black Lotus shook her head. “Not yet. Not with those injuries. Right now, you need to take it easy, unless you want me, dad, and mom repacking your guts. You were lucky that those claws didn't quite open you up.”

Instantly soured, Wind griped, “De Writer tell you that, too?”

Suddenly she felt herself wrapped in the softest of pale blue magic. It was like no hug or hold that she had ever experienced before. Black Lotus was carrying her in it without any apparent effort. As she did, she explained, “No, De Writer is innocent of that particular thing. I am a good surgeon. Mom is better and dad, with a little help from either of us, is even better. I shouldn't have, but I peeked inside you to see how well you are healing. That is why I am carrying you now.”

Wind very suddenly became still. In a small voice, though still defiant, she asked, “What did you find, Snoopy?”

The mild reply was, “My name is Black Lotus. What I found is some inflammation at both the surgical work and some in your nerves. The surgery was really well done, if that helps. The inflammation came later. I am pretty sure that we can treat it, though. If we can, you will just have to take it easy for a while to let things heal up properly.”

They came to the lunch serving line. Black Lotus said something in the lovely fluid language that Wind decided that she was going to learn if she stayed long with these . . . horses.

Both the chestnut sorrel and the odd donkey left the serving line and joined Black Lotus, who was still holding Wind. There was a brief conference in the fluid language. The chestnut sorrel slightly tipped her horn, which glowed with an amber magic aura that matched her eyes perfectly. The magic flowed into Wind and bridged down to the donkey named Marchhare.

He nodded and spoke Equestrian to the brown mare, “Thank you, Hoof Dancer, my dear. Black Lotus was pretty spot on. We can treat this easily but Wind will need carefully supervised rest and light exercise.”

Wind pointed out sarcastically, “I am right here, you know. Would it be too much trouble to tell ME exactly what the problem is?”

The old donkey nodded agreement and sat. Gesturing expressively with his long ears, he stated, “Right you are, my dear Wind. As Black Lotus informed us, your original surgery was quite well done. Unfortunately a bit of infectious inflammation has begun to progress up some nerves that were severed.

“Right now, if we can keep you properly rested and LIMIT your exercise, we can stop the problem. If we do not try to stop it or you choose not to follow our directions you will either die or be permanently paralyzed in about two days time.

“The critical issue is to prevent the inflammation from reaching your spinal column. If it does, there is little to nothing that we can do to save you.

“So, now that you know what the problem is, will you let us save you or not?”

Wind retorted, “I have to. Mama Dragon would never forgive me if I died after all of her work to save me.”

<== PREVIOUS ~ NEXT==>

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#WIND MEETS THE ROM #Part 2 of 27 #MLP Fan Fiction #Written by De Writer

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eijie-cavies · 3 years

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Wen Kexing, Scorpion King and Gu-Xiang raised together in ghost valley.

This lovely user had produced a VERY interesting Au that I couldn't help myself but make a lil drabble/one shot on it. @naniya27 I hope you like it! I had fun playing around with Xi'er hahahah. (one shot under the cut)

Zhou Zishu didn't know if he should gape in surprise or tilt his head in confusion at the sight of Wen Kexing and a VERY familiar man clad in black conversing by their table. He had only stood up to order himself some more wine and all of the sudden there was an assassin sitting beside Wen Kexing, more so, this assassin wasn't even trying to kill him.

"Where have you been? I've been looking all over for you-" The man whined.

"I told you I will be "around" little brat, didn't A-Xiang inform you of my whereabouts?" Wen Kexing retorted, his carefree smile widened as he tilted his head back to drink his beverage as if this assassin was not in the least bit dangerous. "Da-ge, you know I would be busy, did you purposely send me away to have your little adventures?" The man pouted, POUTED, as though he was a little brother feigning hurt just to gain favor from his older brother.

'Have I missed something here?' Zhou Zishu internally blanched, approaching their table slowly.

When the man's eyes landed on to him all the traces of playfulness disappeared and a hard mask was set in place. The man straightened in his seat like a proper gentleman with his eyes cold and observant. Zhou Zishu internally shivered, The man looked every bit like he was once did back when he was still serving the prince.

"Ah! A-Xu, come come, you took too long" Wen Kexing whined pettily which gained a slightly shocked but nonetheless passive expression from his companion. "I was gone for 5 minutes Lao Wen-"

"Five minutes too long, a-xu don't deprived me of your beauty" His soulmate winked.

The scandalized look on the scorpion's face ALMOST made Zhou Zishu want to play along with his fan man's antics, but his mind was still too muddled to comprehend just WHY this man was even here.

"Lao Wen, i don't think you need me here if you got a companion?" Zhou Zishu challenged, the man's eyebrows twitched. Either from annoyance or anger he didn't know. "Ah, my bad, A-Xu this is Xie Wang, Xi-er say hello to my beautiful A-Xu" Again, Wen Kexing had that silly sparkling look in his eyes that quiet frankly Zishu decided he would never tire from. "Wen Gongzi, I was not aware you harbored stowaways in your journey" Zishu wanted to snort at that. as if he had not seen the way this "Xi-er" acted while he was not there.

"I know who he is Lao Wen, did not know the Ghost valley is familiar with the Scorpion" Zhou Zishu tilted his head, sitting down across from Wen Kexing. Xi-er looked ready to retort a smartass reply, probably something Wen Kexing had taught himself when the older man beat him to it.

"Ayiah, the ghost valley and Scorpions had always been allies A-Xu, is it not a common knowledge?" he asked.

Zishu only shrugged his shoulder. being an ex-assassin he could always read people based on their body language, and though the man in front of him was of similar occupation, Zishu could not help but chuckle at the way Xi-er's knee slowly moved to touch Wen Kexing's in a protective manner ,or how his jaw flexed slightly indicating that he was grinding his teeth behind his mouth, the piercing eyes never left him for a moment as if anticipating Zishu's attack at anytime. truth be told he looked about ready to drive Zishu away himself.

"Ah that reminds me, I seemed to have forgotten to buy some herbs too take back to the manor, eh A-xu i'll be back in a bit" He smiled warmly before standing up to leave. Zishu knows it's bullshit, Lao Wen would never run off to "buy" something not unless he asked for money first, so Zishu figured that this was his chance to get to know this person, whatever Lao Wen had in mind anyway.

"So...Leader Zhou, we meet again" Xi-'er smiled politely, though the ex assassin knew that that was FAR from a friendly one, more like a challenge. "Yes, after you abducted Chengling" he fired back, smile as taxing. Xie'er ,in a moment of weakness, groaned "Please, don't remind me, i already got an earful from Da'ge about that, I don't want to hear the same from you"

Zishu raised his eyebrow in surprise and confusion, okay so he was not hallucinating then. this scorpion DID call Lao Wen "Da ge"

"Pardon?" said Zishu.

"How was I supposed to know that Zhang boy was your ward and you were with Da ge anyway? he hadn't contacted me ever since he got out of the valley" he pouted...again. "Besides, I already said sorry to him" he reasoned again. Zishu smirked at that "So you said sorry to him and not me or Chengling?"

"Hell no, I don't even know you. and why are you even sticking to Da'ge anyway? this wasn't even in his plan" Xie'er rolled his eyes so far back he was sure it would pop out. The ex- assassin only laughed at that. No, Lao Wen did NOT anticipate their meeting nor did Zishu himself, but he'd be damned if he was the one sticking to Wen Kexing. that fan wielding man was the one who clung to him in the first place.

Just before he could retort Chengling arrived just in time to See Xi-er slightly leaned forward at the table as if he was about to attack Zishu. "Chengling" the swordsman started, but Chengling was fast to run to his side and position himself just behind Zhou Zishu. Xie'er was not pleased. "Little idiot, I thought you went off to buy more supplies for-"

"I was! but Shishu told me to come back here and that he would handle it himself"

'Lao Wen I swear to-'

"Shishu? hah, who are you calling shishu? my Da'ge would never let anyone call him that" Zi'er

"Your Da'ge, definetly did" Zishu almost could not contain his laugh at the scorpion King's scandalized and shocked expression. "This is ridiculous" the scorpion King stood up with al the gracehe could muster in anger "I'm going to find him and set this right" he harrumped, swishing his robes as he disappeared out the tavern.

Chengling, who was still slightly cowering behind him stuttered. "Sh-Shifu, wasn't tha-"

"Yes, don't worry i'll talk to your Shishu about this, come on. Let's go and finish getting those herbs before we go home"

____________________________________________________

"Lao Wen"

"Hmmn?" Wen Kexing hummed, stirring a pot of hot steamed vegetables with chicken soup simmering by the side. "Xie'er was...something" at the mention of his brother Kexing stopped for a second before continuing his minstrations. as if reading Zishu's mind on wanting a clearer explanation, Wen Kexing caved "I found him when I was still in ghost valley. he was one of the children who had been abducted and brought to us" the taller man swallowed hard, clearly struggling, though his face showed little emotion.

"He almost died, luckily I got to him in time and managed to save him, hiding him away was the hardest part. it took a while before he trusted me but once he did I found that I could not turn him away"

Zhou Zishu sighed, with a burst of bravery he walked over to his Zhiji and wrapped his hands around his waist, his head came to rest on Lao Wen's shoulder. "He lived with me for several years,and then Gu-xiang appeared. We barely managed to save her but when Xie'er promised ties with the Scorpion to the former Ghost valley chief he let her go, when I became chief I finally let him go back to his home where he can see his parents again" Wen Kexing stopped, longer this time. His hand shook as he removed the pots from the fire to prevent them from burning, he turned to Zhou Zishu, eyes full of guilt and sorrow.

"But...it was too late, his parents had been killed and with no one to take the title Xi'er had to assume the role and had to band together the scorpions that we know today. He was only 17 that time A-Xu, it took years before he could properly get a hold of the others and most of the time I wasn't even there to help him. I still had Gu-Xiang to raise and it wasn't time for me to emerge from the valley. He had to come to me multiple times-"

Wen Kexing faltered. Zishu figure that was enough, he didn't think Lao Wen would actually tell him that much. The shorter man steadily turned his soulmate to face him, his eyes soft and understanding as he slowly leaned in, just enough to let Lao Wen back out if he so wanted. but the other man stayed in place. He finally rest his forehead against Lao Wen's. in an instant, his partner loosened up, hand began to encircle around his waist as Zishu moved closer, feeling their noses touch.

"Lao Wen, you did great"

At that high praise and implication, Wen Kexing could not help but to shed tears of relief and gratefulness. Zishu understood, Zishu accepted. and most of all Zhou Zishu stayed.

Bonus: Timeline.

Wen Kexing was around 7 or 8 when he was brought in to Ghost valley. so let's say he was 7.

Xie'er came to ghost valley when he was 8 years old making Wen Kexing 15.

Gu-xiang came to valley when she was 7 making Wen Kexing 18 and Xi'er 11.

Wen Kexing was 20 when he took over, Xie'er now 17 years old and given free reign over the scorpions and Gu xiang 9.

Finally current drama:

Wen Kexing - 28

Xie Wang- 21

Gu-Xiang - 17

(These aren't the real ages btw XD just estmation. i had big brain moment trying to sort out the timeline hahaha)

#word of honor #shan he ling #wen kexing #zhou zishu #zhang chengling #xie wang #xie er #gu xiang #wenzhou #Wen kexing is a good dad TvT

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elopez7228 · 4 years

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Scenic Route 26/47

Read on AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/18268208/chapters/43229774

Start over : https://elopez7228.tumblr.com/post/620919089893933056/scenic-route-0147

***

Rey was ready.

She was dressed in jeans, high-heeled boots, and a flowing top that exposed most of her back. It was sexy enough for a concert, comfortable enough to wear all night, and most importantly, perfect for her inevitable confrontation with Ben Solo. Her hair was swept up in a half-ponytail and she had picked out a pair of silver pendant earrings for the occasion.

Her makeup was minimal in that it consisted mostly of nude tones, but she had taken more care than usual in applying it—she looked much better than she did during her daily bouts of tourism. A small bag completed her ensemble, containing the essentials: her wallet, phone, and car keys.

The concert venue was on the outskirts of the city, nestled between a massive parking garage, a few fast food restaurants, the rear end of a warehouse, and a few motels. A mediocre scene at best. Bozeman was not a city known for its animated nightlife: it was frequented by the tourists going or coming from Yellowstone and its inhabitants lived almost exclusively off of this influx of temporary visitors. This wasn’t the kind of place where tourists stayed for more than a night, not that many tourists would attend a rock concert in the first place.

Yet the parking was already full of vehicles, their plates registered in Wyoming, Montana and Idaho. Tonight was going to be packed—a congregation of neighbors, friends, and visitors from the surrounding towns and ranches.

The entrance was a free-for-all, alcohol flowed freely as empty bottles of beer and stray cigarettes littered already the cluttered ground.

Rey took BB8 out for one more walk before locking her in the car with the window rolled down, making sure she had plenty of water and dog treats. She didn’t want to attract any more attention to her already infamous eyesore from 1977, so she had parked a little further away, near a McDonald's, where she had also spotted a familiar pickup truck. It featured a “Kylo REN” bumper sticker, the logo not unlike one of the posters near the entrance of the concert hall.

She hesitated. Should it go through the main entrance? He had mentioned an all-access backstage once; could she possibly come in through the back?

When in doubt, text him.

I’m here. Should I buy a ticket or do you have the backstage pass you offered?

No response.

Shit.

He was probably busy.

She made her way behind the building and finally recognized one of the musicians (Skylar?) who was leaning against a wall, cigarette in hand. She approached him with her best smile.

“Hi, I 'm Rey, you know, a friend of Ben...uh...Kylo Ren’s. he told me something about a backstage pass, can I come in?”

Upon closer inspection, she noticed his broad shoulders, immaculately shaved head, and intricately tattooed neck and forearms. He deigned not to respond immediately. He lowered the eyes and practically leered at Rey from top to bottom, pausing to take a long drag of his cigarette before blowing the smoke in her face.

“He didn't say anything to me. Nice try. Go through the front and pay the price.”

Rey winced. Something about this guy made her skin crawl, she could see in his eyes that this was all an act.

“Is Syed Ren is there? Can I talk to her?”

“What Syed is up to is none of your business.”

Okay...why was he acting like such a guard dog?

“Well,” she insisted, “in that case, maybe you can inform Kylo or Syed, wherever they are, that Rey is out here waiting for them?”

The musician took a step forward and bent slightly to reach Rey’s height, forcing her to reflexively take a step back. He was much taller than her. Classic intimidation technique; it discouraged escalation without attracting attention.

“Listen up, kid, I dunno who you think you are, but nobody’s gonna bother Kylo Ren. Wait your turn and pay your dues or get the hell out.”

Rey gritted her teeth. Her smile was acerbic. “Perfect. Let's do that, then.”

Idiot! She would’ve appreciated if Kylo and Syed had told her about Skylar’s garbage personality when she was still going back and forth about the whole maybe-I-should-follow-you-on-tour-and -drop-by-now-and-then idea. She was hoping she could be more forgiving to Kylo, but of course that proved to be useless. Now she only hoped he would break a leg tonight—literally. Fuck him and his rockstar life. Maybe he would draw the short straw one day and end up cleaning other people’s messes for a change. Maybe that would take him off of his grand fucking pedestal.

Eventually, with no other option (as evidenced by her very silent phone) Rey skirted back around the edge of the building to the entrance. She paid for a ticket—a paltry 19 dollars—and stepped inside.

The room was overheated, and already well full. Rey elbowed her way to the front as much as possible, getting as close as she could to the stage. Suddenly, she felt a hand press against her buttocks as she navigated through the crowd.

Hell, someone was going to pay very dearly for this.

She was spun around, swiftly grabbing a wrist while her fingers formed a vice-like grip around it. At the end of said wrist was a bearded man in a ridiculous hat, with an equally ridiculous expression on his face. He had expected, no doubt, to find her embarrassed and intimidated.

“Whose hand is this?” She yelled as loudly as she could, “because it just happened to grab my buttocks out of nowhere,” she spat acidly.

The bearded man pulled his hand and tried to flee, but Rey held firmly. She looked him right in the eyes.

“Say, haven't you misplaced something?”

“Uh...hey...” mumbled the guy, visibly panicking now. Another girl jumped in to help her, grabbing the man’s shoulders to shove him off to the side.

“Get lost, there’s no room for pervs here!”

Soon, a group formed around them to collectively push the man out of the door. Rey’s heartbeat soared and suddenly she felt like her confidence was limitless. Yes, by the end of the concert, she would get ahold of Kylo and Syed—Skylar or no Skylar—to hell with waiting outside all night!

In a matter of minutes the lights went out. Amid the whistles and the cheers of the audience, Rey felt her heart skip a beat in recognizing the unmistakable silhouette of Ben Solo on the stage. He was all black again: black Doc Martens, black jeans, and a plain black crew neck t-shirt. Although his shirt was simple, it was very fitted, revealing the shape of his muscular chest and broad shoulders. She remembered touching that chest, tracing the outline of those hard planes with one hand while using the other to dip below the waistband of those jeans.

Suddenly she felt unbearably hot.

But that was just because of how crowded it was. Right?

Somehow, there were only five people on stage. She looked for Syed in vain, her eyes widening with realization that the guitarist wasn’t there at all. What did that imply? Truth be told, she was a little disappointed; she’d had the every intention to deal with Syed too. It was strange how Rey felt like a target in what seemed to be a folie à deux between Syed and Kylo. There was no use in confronting one of them if the other got away.

She was surprised to find herself swaying to the rhythm of the music, whistling and clapping along with the audience. It must have been the music itself, a paradoxically beautiful cacophony that resonated with the rage she had buried inside and fit perfectly with the mood of the evening.

Kylo Ren felt it too. His voice was hoarser from the screaming, his breath more uneven, his stage presence even wilder than the last concert in Denver. Rey could see in the urgency of his body language a fury that seemed to spill out of him and into the microphone. It was almost a display of violence. Her own anger paled in comparison to his, the vast tidal wave of emotion that emanated from his being.

The atmosphere was electric, the crowd unhinged. Rey knew the lyrics by heart, after a thousand kilometers worth of repetition, but she was still shocked to find herself belting the chorus at the top of her lungs with the rest. She admittedly knew nothing of the history of Kylo Ren, she didn’t know where she would find the story of his life (on the walls of some gallery?) or where they would end this unexpected journey. But at least she had found a new favorite band, and their familiar melodies had become her anthem—the anthem of her own journey. She would never forget this vintage car, or these desert roads which wound past rugged mountains, or the mesmerizing way Kylo’s hair fell to his shoulders. The dense, silken ebony that framed his face in wild strands that stuck against his forehead when he was on stage.

The music stopped, the room became dark. Kylo Ren's voice rose in silence:

“This next song is about how we deal with the unexpected, inspired by someone who turned my life upside down. This is my song for her, "First Rain".

Rey felt herself blush to the roots of the hair. Was it a song for her?

Maybe it was for Syed? He hadn't specified anything, was it just her imagination? Did he know? Was she being watched?

Suddenly she found herself unable to move a muscle, frozen alone amidst a sea of nameless faces. Their eyes watched Kylo Ren intently, but him—he was looking directly at her. His gaze pierced through the crowd, unmistakable. He had written it for her. She immediately felt the urge to run, far, far away. But looking into his eyes, she found herself incapable of it.

His gaze held her captive. Dark and hypnotically odd, like his hair, like his clothes—like everything that was ever made in his image. His face was too long and his earlobes too detached, a round sliver of flesh peeking out from underneath of a curtain of black on each side of his face. She bet they were sensitive enough that if she pulled on them he would—

What on earth was happening to her? Was she really going to melt like a lovesick teenager for the first guy with a guitar who bothered to write a song for her? He didn’t even have a guitar.

But he sang words of love.

Better yet, he sang of other things: of a meeting that was more of a collision, of confrontation, of misunderstandings, of sharing secrets, of lies, so many lies...it was all there.

It was all written for her.

She wanted to put her own feelings into words, but her mouth was dry. Her lower half betrayed her desires as her heart hammered even harder. What was he trying to tell her, and, more importantly, what was she going to say in response?

When the music stopped the audience broke out in cheers, but Rey was struggling to breathe. He had sung the entire song while looking right into the eyes, so much so that the crowd around her had receded somewhat, providing them the semblance of privacy.

It was there that she found herself at the center of a circle of people, in the middle of Bozeman, Montana, and in some sense, at the center of the universe.

Then Kylo Ren broke the silence once more as the deafening roar of rock resumed, jolting the audience awake, and Rey was suddenly anonymous again, drowned by a sea of people once more.

She could barely hear the rest of the concert. She was furious with herself for falling into a trap as sickeningly cliche as a song in her name. It was unbearably romantic and...and irresistible.

She couldn't go on.

She left the room, feeling feverish, taking longer and longer strides until she made it to her car, where she collapsed onto the front seat with heaving breaths.

BB8 pawed at her and Rey let the dog bounce excitedly around the car.

She would wait here until the end of the concert, until Kylo and Syed were available. From where she was sitting she could see Kylo Ren’s truck, and she could just make out the entrance to the concert hall. They would be impossible to miss.

Rey was shaken, emotionally drained, even. That song had almost certainly lasted a few minutes, but it had seemed as though he had sung for hours.

Something had happened then, while his eyes held hers as his voice wrapped around her whole being. The room had suddenly felt deserted, like they were alone in the world. It had been so unexpectedly and deeply erotic that she had lost the notion of time.

She didn't know if she wanted to laugh or sob. Her skin felt tingly, crying out to be touched. She had never smoked in her life but she wanted a cigarette.

She grabbed the sweater she had left on the passenger seat, and buried her face in it before unleashing a scream that emptied out her entire lungs—a visceral cry of anger, of frustration and of relief, simultaneously primal and liberating.

Finally she felt better, leaning her head back again before dozing off.

It was the movement around her that drew her out of drowsiness. The chaotic din of the audience leaving the venue, the roar of engines and bursts of random conversation.

How long had she slept? The concert was over, the people were leaving the premises. Soon she was surrounded only by the vehicles of the tech crew, and those of the Knights of Ren. She recognized the group, two women and two men, walking across the lot.

Rey got out of her car and leaned against the door, ankles crossed, as she scrutinized the darkness. Where was Kylo Ren? He better be out here.

A car approached. A dark grey SUV, which parked near the pickup.

Rey’s heart began to pound in her chest when she recognized the silhouette in the driver’s seat—a leather-clad woman with a mohawk.

She shuddered. If Syed was there, Kylo would show up soon. Rey was going to call out to her when something stopped her in her tracks.

Syed was holding a knife.

Rey held both hands over her mouth to stifle the cry that threaten to escape her throat and give away her location as she slid down into a crouched position, praying she could just disappear. Syed slipped past the SUV and stopped in front of the black pickup. With one fluid motion, she slashed the rear-left tire, her fist clenching tightly around the hilt of the blade.

Then she directed her attention to the rear-right tire, until she had methodically slashed all of them. BB8 began baring her teeth and growling, but Rey coaxed her to be quiet.

This was highly unusual. Weren't Syed and Kylo supposed to be accomplices in some crazy scheme? Guided by intuition, Rey bent as far as she could in the direction of the Falcon’s boot, taking only a few moments to find what she needed.

Then she hushed BB8 again, who lay unhappily on the back seat, and silent as a shadow, she crossed the road in the direction of the concert hall.

#reylo #fanfiction #Scenic Route #modern au

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teenwolfseason7 · 4 years

Text

Red Eyes

Stiles Slightly trembling fingers ghosted over numerous pictures and newspaper excerpts pinned to an old and stained wall, tracing imaginary connections and patterns. Stiles sighed in desperate frustration. With one brisk step, he turned around and angrily started tugging at his already chaotic-looking hair. Agitated and tired eyes locked with the bottle holding the auburn potion that would help him in a way no one else could, or would. He harshly swallowed, before getting a glass to pour himself a double one. Partially submitting to the ever-growing feeling of pure exhaustion, he sat down onto his messy bed and took a sip, whilst still exploring certain possibilities. The liquid happily leaving the usual burning sensation in his throat on its way down. Three refills later and frustration had leisurely progressed to boiling aggression whilst he paced relentlessly through his single dorm room. Abhorring the incessant discussion in his head, but unable to distract himself. Alcohol fueling wicked ideas, edging them to go beyond reality. Whispers of insanity latched themselves onto his brain. Posterior to contradicting yet another one of his intricate theories, he lost it, smashing the glass, holding his last drops of comfort, against the wall. Sending both his visualized and obscure thoughts and patterns to the ground. Incompetence chuckling in a vacant corner somewhere. Once again, he found himself onto his bed, gazing at the shatters of lunacy on the amber hardwood floor. Out of the blue, a faint rustling sound pierced the silence. Instantly, he cocked his head to the direction of the sudden noise, omitting the pounding of his own heart. Whilst questioning his debilitating mental state for imagining it, he kept listening. A negligible source was dismissed within seconds as the particular vibration re-emerged. Every sign of intoxication miraculously dissolved when a calm hand reached for the gun underneath his mattress, the cold metal stealing the warmth of his skin as it tightened around the material. Another re-occurrence had his adrenaline levels high enough for him to actually take a leap to the wall next to the window, whilst his heart thudded stridently into his ears. The anticipation built up, as he counted to three in an attempt to gather the necessary intrepidity. On his “three”, he darted upward in search for his target. Relief washed over him like a cold shower as Musafa, his favorite stray cat on campus meowed loudly, demanding treats. A harsh breath escaped him, anxiety releasing slightly as carbon dioxide left his body. “Seriously?!” Another shuddered exhale made him pause. “You have to stop doing this.” A cat parting ways whilst purring in contempt, and bunch of deep and calming gulps of air and frustrated groans later, he started cleaning up his mess from before the stupid scare, clearly in deep thought. Just as he was washing the sticky alcohol infused substance from his palms, a short ping rang like a fire alarm through his eardrums, coming from his laptop. Whilst quickly and mindlessly drying them off, he rushed towards his laptop, to click on the new notification. It was displayed rather strangely. Not the usual pristine and advanced Apple display, but blank white typewriter text, seemingly with more numbers than necessary, against a plain dark grey background popped up onto his screen. Some hacking technology he found on deep web pages he should have never been browsing on in the first place, the usual. He and one of his more “nerdier” friends perfected it, to hack in to places that should’ve never been hackable in the first place. However, not all FBI cases were kept behind the typical unbreachable doors imbedded with their ever so striking emblem. Yet another lie portrayed by the movie industry. No, the less important ones, were kept on poorly secured computers in blandly furnished offices, with incapable and uninterested agents working on them. One of those happened to be the one that was a threat to his existence. And because of that exact reason he did not feel any guilt whatsoever, for tapping into a secured briefing about that very case. Of course, his incompetence of keeping his nose out of other people their cases and business was what had landed him in this situation in the first place. But then again, if they knew what he knew, they would’ve probably meddled too, at least that’s what he was telling himself. That and the fact that the guys working on it are complete and utter douchebags, so guilt wasn’t necessarily in the top three of emotions he was dealing with right now. “Witness places M. Escobar in Campeche, Mexico.” The gears in his mind started spinning aggressively once more, as he read up on the details, instantly ordering his printer to make him a handheld cop of it, whilst absentmindedly rubbing a particular spot on his left knee. “Why Mexico?”, he debated out loud. Escobar had no relatives or friends there, which were mostly based somewhere in and around Seattle, nowhere near Mexico. So maybe the witnesses were wrong, het thought. That theory in itself was quite difficult to believe, since Escobar had a very distinct tattoo design on his face, confusing him with someone else was quite unlikely. He did not like to admit it, but given the current development of Escobar’s location, there was not much left for him to do here. It was completely implausible for the high-profile criminal to come back here after what he had done. Stiles believed that Escobar’s IQ was high enough for the him to realize that trying to come after a rookie like him again, would be impractical, to say the least, this was now confirmed with him going to Mexico. A fresh amount of wry tension crept along his neck. If only he could prove that Escobar was not some naïve kingpin, but a distinguished human trafficker with a booming business, evidently though, his clean-up crew had a bigger pay-check than everyone working on his case. But, other than the occasional location pin, no new information had surfaced. That and he had submitted his last paper of the term two weeks ago. For months, he had been stalling it, with the obvious excuses that went something along the lines of “It’s not safe”, but going back to Beacon Hills wasn’t something he could keep postponing forever. Teen Wolf Season 7 Teaser: https://teenwolfseason7.tumblr.com/post/189867393637/teen-wolf-sequel-teaser-the-fire-erupted-in Part 1: https://teenwolfseason7.tumblr.com/post/613061122944319489/old-habits-die-hard Part 2: https://teenwolfseason7.tumblr.com/post/613061389444071424/deja-vu Part 3: https://teenwolfseason7.tumblr.com/post/613792223778291712/headlights

#scottstiles #sciles #Scott McCall #stiles stilinski #Stilinski #teenwolfseason7 #teenwolfsequel #teenwolf #lydia martin #liam dunbar #derekhale

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snarp · 5 years

Text

Maybe just figured out why that Tumblr-publishes-your-flagged-drafts-when-you-submit-them-for-review thing happened:

As you know, if you have read my endless whining about Tumblr’s public API, Tumblr’s public API is bad. This means that Tumblr has no easy, built-in way of hooking its database into any software other than the tumblr.com interface (the thing you’re reading this post on). Tools for backup/archiving/export, bulk editing, linguistic or image analysis, content moderation... Tumblr can’t use that stuff very easily.

(This is part of why Tumblr ads are so poorly-targeted - a useless public API has its upsides. Facebook and Amazon have very robust public APIs.)

What this means is that, if Tumblr has to bring in a contractor to fix a problem, or if Tumblr has to let in law enforcement to track a pedophile, or WHATEVER, they have to either,

1) give the other party full access to the database (very dangerous, frequently opens them up to lawsuits or prosecution if they get caught at it), or

2) you have to sit down and build some tools especially for them.

The App Store ban required an immediate response from staff. Being Tumblr, my guess would be that they started by panicking and giving full read/write access to someone incompetent, who deleted a bunch of stuff indiscriminately. Then, realizing that they had initiated a self-destruct sequence, they panicked a little more, dropped that strategy, and went for option two as quickly and sloppily as possible.

Given staff’s historical disdain for the API, they almost certainly didn’t try to fix it: they probably just hurriedly built a moderation frontend onto the site itself: like, the tiny human mod staff was (and maybe still is!) logging onto the mod dashboard at ‘tumblr.com/dashboard/with_nipple_problems‘, it probably looked exactly like the regular dashboard but in a more evil shade of blue, etc.*

Actually no. I’m making them sound more competent than they probably are. Le’ts say they didn’t even change the shade of blue; they didn’t change anything. Let’s say that, initially, the entire moderation interface is copy-pasted from, say, the Drafts page.

So: normally, Tumblr posts have one of four 'states’: published, draft, queue, and private. But there’s no way of viewing these states on individual posts on the dashboard, drafts page, or queue page, right? There doesn’t need to be, for normal use - that’s written up at the top of the page. If a post’s in your queue, its state is ‘queue,’ if it’s on the drafts page, its state is ‘draft’. No need for labels like that.

But if you clone the drafts page into a moderation interface and just let a bunch of exhausted Indian mods loose on that shit... how are the mods going to know that some of these posts were drafts, or private? No one bothered to edit the fucking template to display that information. They may not even have access to a ‘Save draft’ button - after all, the mods aren’t not supposed to be able to edit the posts, and that specific option only shows up in the actual editor pop-up. For all we know the interface devs only gave them the ‘Post’ button.

...and even this may be giving Tumblr staff too much credit - it’s entirely possible that they just deleted the initial post state and replaced it with ‘flagged,’ making it impossible for anyone - even those with full database access - to determine to which posts were drafts/queued/private and which were published without looking at a backup copy of the database. (Which - did they even have one? They might not have!)

* (I can’t fully explain how stupid and inefficient this whole concept is in under five pages, but it’s bad. If I’m right about this shit, I suspect that at least some of that $1 billion devaluation came from the sheer cost of paying all these mods they had to rush-hire to go over the same content, over and fucking over, because they waited too fucking long to try to build a working API.)

#tumblr #tumbldown

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voyager-into-the-unknown · 5 years

Text

This is another chapter of my ongoing Plance fic. This chapter has more hints of Kallura and Hunay, and be please be advised, there’s a very hot Plance makeout session in this chapter. 🔥💦🌱 The boys have a serious discussion about their future plans, including marriage and family. Also, Loverboy Lance is super sexy in this installment. 😉 You’ve been warned. Please leave a comment if you like this fic.

Here’s the previous chapter if you missed it. https://truegryffindorforever2.tumblr.com/post/188917892600/truegryffindorforever2

Chapter 10: After the Training Mission

After the success of the morning’s simulation on the training deck, the Paladins headed toward the locker rooms, where they could strip off their armor, shower, and change into their Garrison uniforms. As Keith, Allura, and Hunk walked ahead of them, Lance and Pidge lagged behind, holding hands. Lance felt a little tug as Pidge led him toward a vacant supply room. “I need to talk to you about something in private,” she said as she led him inside and shut the door.

“Sure. What is it?” Lance asked as they set their helmets down on a nearby crate. She put her hands on his chest plate and looked up at him adoringly. Even without makeup and with sweat matting the loose strands of the hair that framed her face she looked beautiful. He felt his heart beating a little faster.

“You were incredible in the training simulation just now. Shiro was right, you know. We have never seen you fight like that before. It was amazing.”

Lance felt his face heat up. “Well, it’s like I said. I had the right motivation. My mission was to keep you safe.” He reached down to cup her face in his gloved hands. His voice deepened. “I had to protect the woman I love.” Lance gave her his most smoldering look, and Pidge’s blush was visible, even in the dim lighting.

He leaned down to kiss her, and she wrapped her arms around his neck to draw him closer as their lips came together in a passionate kiss. The room was small and Pidge was already near the wall. She backed into it, and Lance picked her up, bracing her against the wall. She wrapped her legs around his waist, holding onto him as she had when they were tumbling through the simulation of deep space. He kissed her as if she were the breath of life itself, with an urgency neither of them had ever experienced before, and she kissed him back with just as much passion. When their lips parted, they were both panting. She then kissed him everywhere she could reach—cheeks, temples, forehead, and chin. He closed his eyes and allowed her to cover his face with sweet little kisses. “I love you,” she whispered as she kissed the corner of his mouth. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too,” whispered to her. He covered her face with the same soft little kisses she had given him. She closed her eyes, smiling and savoring the sensation. “You were brilliant today, as always,” he whispered in her ear, then kissed her there, then nibbled at her earlobe. She giggled at this new sensation. This was all so new to her, to both of them. He set her down, then kissed the top of her head. “We shouldn’t get too carried away,” he said.

“Right. Matt doesn’t want us to have to name any little garbage poofs after him just yet, remember?”

Lance laughed. “Well, I was going to take a hot shower to relax my aching muscles, but right now I think I need a cold shower first.” Pidge looked down, suddenly comprehending the meaning of his words. She blushed scarlet.

“I—I didn’t know I could cause that to happen,” she looked away from the place below his belt line where she had been staring. “Sorry.”

Lance picked up his helmet, and turned to leave. “I’m not.” He gazed at her from the now open doorway, silhouetted by the light from hallway beyond. He flashed her his sexiest lopsided grin, unashamed of himself, but secretly hoping that no one would pass by and see how uncomfortably tight his under suit was at the moment. Pidge looked adorably embarrassed, and averted her gaze. She grabbed her helmet and followed him out of the room.

They held hands again on the way to the locker rooms, and upon arrival, they finally parted from each other. “See you at lunch,” he told her, and he gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before they went their separate ways.

Hunk was putting on his uniform when Lance arrived in the locker room, and Keith, who had just come from the shower, had wet hair and was wrapped in only a towel. “What took you so long?”

“Uh, Pidge wanted to discuss the mission,” Lance said, as he turned away to begin removing his armor.

Hunk laughed. “Don’t let him fool you. He was probably making out with his girlfriend again.”

“Girlfriend? Lance finally has a girlfriend?!” Keith said in disbelief.

“Yes, I do have a girlfriend, Keith. Don’t be so shocked by that fact.” Lance sounded a bit offended.

“So, is she someone I know?” Keith was curious.

Hunk laughed. “Still Clueless Keith.”

“Typical,” Lance agreed. “I told you I was discussing the mission with her.”

“You mean Pidge?! She’s just a kid!”

“She’s eighteen now, and way more mature than any of us were at that age.”

“Listen, Loverboy. Pidge is a very important member of our team, and she’s also like a little sister to me, so if you are just messing around and trying to take advantage of her feelings—“

“I have already had this discussion with Matt, so back off, Keith. Mind your own business!” Lance yelled. Keith growled at him.

“Whoa! Calm down, both of you,” said Hunk. “For your information, Keith, I have had this talk with Lance, too, and he is handling things very maturely. Don’t jump to conclusions.”

Lance sat on the nearest bench, clad only in the bottom half of his under armor. He exhaled. “Thanks, Hunk.” He looked at Keith, then looked away. “I love her, okay? And she loves me. We are in a committed relationship, and that’s a bit scary for both of us. We have just survived the most brutal war that the universe has ever seen, and all of us have nearly died at one time or another. We aren’t doing anything stupid or irresponsible. We have actually discussed our future together.” Lance looked up at both of his friends. “Pidge and I want it all—marriage, a home, kids...a normal life. We both love being Paladins and serving the universe in the cause of freedom and all that, but we both want something for ourselves too. I think we deserve that. All of us deserve that.”

Keith sat down on the bench beside him. “I’m sorry. You’re right. And you and Pidge aren’t the only ones who have thought about the future in those terms,” he admitted. His expression has softened a great deal.

“Things are getting pretty serious between me and Shay,” Hunk confessed.

“Things between me and Allura are just getting started,” Keith added. “She’s lost nearly everything, and I know she thinks of all of us as her family, but I also know it would make her happy if she had a family of her own.” Keith looked away, embarrassed. “We have both submitted DNA samples to the exobiology lab for testing. There’s a very good chance that an Altean female can produce hybrid offspring with a male who is half human and half Galra.” Keith was blushing so deeply that he couldn’t meet their eyes.

“Shay and I haven’t even thought that far ahead,” Hunk said quietly. “But I still want to be with her even if we can’t have children. I love her.”

“Then you guys do understand. None of us are kids anymore.” Lance said. “And of the original Paladins, we know that Zarkon and Alfor had families of their own. If they can marry the women that they loved, why can’t we?”

“It’s not that easy, Lance,” Keith responded. “As far as we know, Trigel didn’t have any children of her own. Maybe she had to give that up to be a female Paladin. If Voltron is needed again someday, how would we go into battle if Pidge or Allura gets pregnant? Supposed one of them is going into labor when the universe needs us the most.”

There was a long silence. “I hadn’t thought about that before,” Lance admitted. He looked away, lost in thought.

“We have switched lions before,” Hunk mused aloud. “Shiro and Keith have both flown Black, Keith and Lance have both flown Red, and Lance and Allura have both flown Blue. Green has even accepted Matt as her co-pilot. Maybe Blue and Green would accept another pilot if Allura or Pidge were unable to fly for a period of time.”

“That’s a good point, Hunk. I think you could be right.” Keith looked hopeful.

Lance smiled. “I think we should discuss this with the girls, and with the lions,” he said. “And I’m gonna hit the shower before I miss lunch.”

Hunk was finished dressing. “See you guys there.”

Lance grabbed his towel and grooming kit and headed toward the stalls. He had a lot to think about.

Keith smiled to himself, lost in thought as he grabbed a smaller towel to dry his wet hair. He really hoped that Hunk was right. He daydreamed for a bit, wondering how his mother would react to having a grandchild that was half Altean. Then he found himself wishing his father could have lived long enough to meet Allura and the little family that they might someday have. He sighed and began combing his hair.

Lance stood under the hot water, no longer needing the cold shower. He washed his hair and lathered his body while considering talk he had just had with Hunk and Keith. Pidge, pregnant? Colleen and his mother would make such as fuss over her and the baby. Lance secretly hoped that the child would inherit the Holt family’s intelligence. What would it be like to be father to a genius? He imagined Sam would give the baby his or her first scientific educational toys. His own dad would probably pass out the finest Cuban cigars to all of their friends and family, even though none of them smoked. He smiled at the thought of all of the aunts and uncles the baby would have, spoiling the child with love and affection: Matt, Veronica, Rachel, Marco, Luis and Lisa...and the team...he imagined his baby being doted upon by Shiro, Coran, Keith, Allura, and especially Hunk. The thought of it made him so happy he began to cry a little. His mind wandered back to the training mission and how tightly he and Pidge clung to each other when they hurled through space, and that led to thoughts of how she had her arms and legs wrapped so tightly around him when they kissed in the supply room afterwards. What would her body feel like so close to his if they hadn’t been wearing armor? Soft, he thought. Smooth. He had held her in his arms when they danced and kissed before. Even though she had grown considerably taller since they had gone into space, compared to him, she was still so tiny. He would have to be very gentle with her the first time that they... No, he mustn’t indulge in those thoughts right now. He turned the temperature of the water down several degrees, and shut his eyes as it poured over him like cool spring rain.

#plance #kallura #hunay #lance mcclain #katie holt #pidge #keith kogane #allura #hunk garrett #shay #plance fanfic #plance fanfiction

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ballum-trash · 5 years

Text

Keeping a Secret (Ballum Fic)

Author: Myself / [email protected]

Summary: Callum Highway’s had a rough start to the summer, and it doesn’t get any easier when he’s on the verge of getting evicted from his flat and he needs to find rent money fast.

Cue a timely offer from one Ben Mitchell. He has the money Callum needs, and is willing to give it to him, but on one condition: Callum has to pretend to be his boyfriend for the summer.

Chapters: 1 / ?? (word count: 4,600k)

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20591471/chapters/48886769

The Caff was unusually quiet for a Tuesday morning, not that it bothered Callum much at all. He was enjoying his tea in the hidden corner of the cafe, quietly humming along to the radio that rang out from behind the counter.

An elderly man was sat reading his newspaper at one table, sipping his own tea ever so often. A young woman sat at another, typing away on her smartphone, with a half eaten pastry sitting in front of her. It was calm, peaceful.

Callum was thankful.

It was half eight in the morning and he had a whole day waiting ahead of him in the Undertakers. It wasn’t that he was dreading going to work, he rarely disliked the thought of it. Not that it was ever his first choice of a job; taking care of the recently deceased, and the mourners that followed.

He was thankful to Jay, still, for giving him the job. He probably always will feel that sense of gratitude; that’s just who he was. But it took him time to adjust. After the eight or ninth body, it started to get a little easier. Sometimes he worries he’s too adjusted, whatever he thinks that means. As if he could come across any dead body, at any random place, (as you do) and he wonders if it would phase him, like it would any normal person.

He shakes his head slightly. He didn’t know where that train of thought was leading him and he’s not sure if he’d like to know.

It was a little unnerving at first, how quiet it was most days, but he learned to enjoy it. Walford was hectic, always had been - at least it was for as long as he lived there. It didn’t take him long to realise that his job was probably one of the more peaceful places on the square.

Well, apart from one constant disturbance. One that, for some reason, has painted a bullseye on Callum’s back and has made it his mission to torment him. Callum’s not sure what he did to deserve the attention Ben Mitchell throws at him, whether Callum likes it or not.

Scratch that - regardless of Callum liking it or not. Not that he can really say much, given that Ben was basically his boss’s brother. It would be hard to file a complaint against his employers family for harassment with an outcome in Callum’s favour. Not that it’s even that drastic in the first place, but Ben knows what buttons to push, and sometimes he forces Callum to really consider having a serious word with Jay.

Checking his watch, it reads ten to nine. Callum downs the rest of his tea, grimacing at the now cold liquid. He can worry about Ben another time, or when he’s probably forced to be in his presence later. It was something he knew he had to anticipate; Ben randomly stopping by during the week to have a chat with Jay. He knows to expect his teasing and his jokes; not that it made him anymore keen to endure them.

The Market stalls were still being set up as he made his way to work. He smiled politely at Kush and Martin, who were chatting idly with their cups of coffee.

Jay had asked him to open up this morning; he had a late night with Lola the night before. The keys jingled in his trouser pocket as he reached the door - he was just about to take them out, until something caught his attention. His brows furrowed for a moment, confused. There was a sheet of paper stuck to the door of his flat. He had only been in the caff about fifteen minutes and it wasn’t there when he left this morning. At least, not that he had noticed.

Yanking it off the door, it was hard to mistake the bright red lettering -

FINAL WARNING

“Oh for - “ Callum stopped himself and sighed, closing his eyes to collect himself for a moment.

He was weeks behind on his rent. He was a newly single tenant, after he and his partner Chris split up two and a half months back. Chris moved out of the flat and out of Walford altogether. He had to go back to the army, and Callum knew this. It wasn’t new information. He thought they could make it work - he wanted to make it work, but Chris just didn’t feel the same. Callum hadn’t heard from him since the break up. Chris mentioned that he was going to move in with his sister before being shipped out. Callum didn’t even know if he was still in the country.

He felt his chest tighten, remembering that night. It came as such a kick to the stomach. Callum knew things were going slowly between them, but he thought they were both happy. He knew he was. He begged Chris to stay, tried to convince him that there was still hope for them.

Chris already had his things packed. He gave Callum a tight hug goodbye, climbed into the back of a black cab, and that was the last Callum had seen of him. Callum’s not sure what he did wrong, and despite Chris’ assurances, he knew he had to be the reason; that it was his fault. He just couldn’t figure out why exactly. He drowned his sorrows that night and cried his eyes out, until he passed out on their - his - bed, still fully clothed.

He aggressively scrunched up the letter and stuffed it into his back pocket.

Work would be a welcome distraction. He doesn’t know how he’s going to get the money to afford his home for another two months, or at least until he can find somewhere cheaper.

‘I’ll worry about it later’ He thinks. It’s not the first time he’s used that line to ignore his on-going problem. He just can’t think about it right now. ‘I’ll get it sorted. Somehow.’

---

Work wasn’t helping to distract him as much as he had hoped. It was a relatively slow day, even for his kind of job. They didn’t have any new clients, and the paperwork was light and easy.

It was nearly two in the afternoon. Jay had texted him an hour ago asking him to take over for the day. Callum happily obliged, texted him back back that it wouldn’t be a problem, not to worry.

‘Probably too hungover’ Callum mused to himself. Lola had been badgering Jay for days the week before to take her out on a date night. They made such a sweet couple, Callum smiled to himself. They had been together for three years already, and engaged for eight months now.

He ignored the sting of jealousy at the thought. His break up with Chris was still a little too fresh.

He leant back in his office chair, his long legs stretched out before him. He couldn’t ignore the panic induced flips in his stomach every time his mind wandered to the wrinkled out piece of paper sitting on his desk. The giant red block letters mocking him. He let out a long sigh and stared up at the ceiling.

He felt deflated. He considered asking Jay for over-time, but he wasn’t sure if there was enough work to even grant that.

‘Maybe I could get a second job at the caff? Or maybe Mick could take me back in the Vic...’ He pondered silently.

He knew it didn’t matter anyway. Even if he could take up a second job, he still wouldn’t have enough time to get the money together. He wondered if he would even have enough time to lock down another flat before he would be evicted. The thought of moving didn’t sit well with him. He liked where he lived, though the air in his home felt sad now; lonely, since Chris just up and left. He had more good memories there than most though. It was his first place that was really his. He wasn’t ready to leave it just yet --

A rough knock on his office door made Callum jump, sitting up straight now on his wonky desk chair.

“Oh I’m sorry, not disturbing you, am I?”

And there he was, like clockwork. Ben always popped in around early afternoon during the week. Callum hoped he wouldn’t. Nothing was really going his way today.

He rolled his eyes. Disturbing Callum in his own workplace was the least of Ben’s worries. In fact Callum was sure it was a hobby of his at this point - considering that he does it at least two or three times a week. Why he gets a kick out of it Callum will never understand.

“What do you want?” He shoots Ben a weak glare as he sits up at his desk properly now.

Ben tuts, feigning offence to Callum’s tone. He leans against the door frame casually, hands in his front pockets.

“Now is that anyway to talk to a mate, Halfway? Hope you don’t talk to your punter’s like that, could be bad for business.”

Callum looks at him pointedly, expression unchanged. Ben smiles, a little too sweetly.

“Didn’t realise we was mates.” He doesn’t have the patience for Ben today. He pretends to scribble on a random blank form sat on his desk.

“You wound me, Halfway.” Says Ben, holding his hand over his heart. “We have our chats, don’t we? I can’t get enough of them!” He’s mocking him and it’s not lost on Callum. He huffs and slams his pen down.

“Jay ain’t working today, he’s out sick.”

It’s the only reason Ben ever shows up at the Undertakers: A quick chat with Jay, invite him to lunch, annoy Callum, and then he leaves. He rarely shows his face when he knows Jay isn’t scheduled to work.

“Not here for Jay.”

Ben’s expression changes then. Less cocky and more serious, and Callum notices. He narrows his eyes. He was always a by-product of Ben’s visits to Jay. He’s never sought Callum out for a chat on his own when Jay wasn’t around. He’s not sure what to think.

“...Okay?” Callum’s suspicious, and a little worried. Ben could be unpredictable at times, getting himself into trouble, dealing with the wrong people. He can’t think of any reason why he would want to talk to Callum. Callum didn’t really ever do...anything, most of the time. He shouldn’t be of any interest to Ben. Not for reason he could think of, anyway.

Ben steps further into the room and sits himself across from Callum. He has such a smug air about him, like he just didn’t care about anyone or anything. It got under Callum’s skin sometimes.

“I need a...favour.” he points lazily at Callum, “From you.” And he smiles. Except it’s a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He doesn’t even look particularly happy to be there.

Callum shakes his head, trying to understand what he could possibly want. “What?”

“A favour.” He repeats, deadpan now. No smile. “I can make it worth your while.”

Callum frowns and stares at the man sat in front of him. Ben doesn’t seem too keen to add a further explanation. He blinks at Callum, waiting for a response.

“What are you on about? I - you know what, no, I don’t need getting involved with whatever scheme you’ve got on. I ain’t interested.”

Ben doesn’t react. Just continues to stare. Callum doesn’t try to stare back, and gets back to writing nonsense on the random work form.

“You can stop pretending to work, Callum, you ain’t fooling no one.”

Callum throws his pen down again and huffs. He meets Ben’s eyes. He’s wary and confused and starting to get annoyed.

Ben sits up in his chair, and for a moment Callum think he’s about to say something. But instead, Ben just slouches, seems like he’s trying to think how he can choose his words carefully. Callum says nothing but this time it’s Ben who won’t meet his eyes. He’s starting to get impatient with him.

“What..uh” Callum tries “what kind of favour?” He doesn’t know why he’s trying to encourage an explanation, but even for Ben it’s odd behaviour and he would be lying to himself if he said he wasn’t the littlest bit curious.

Ben just glances at him, gnawing at the inside of his cheek. He’s hesitating, Callum realises.

“If it’s anything illegal just don’t bother, Ben. I’ve enough on my plate as it is.”

“Let me start over.” Ben folds his hands over his stomach. “Let's call it a proposition, shall we?”

“Prop - Let’s call what a proposition, Ben? I don’t have time for this, really, I don’t--”

“My mum’s threatening to kick me out the house.”

Callum stills. Out of all the things to come out of Ben’s mouth, that definitely wasn’t on his radar of possibilities.

“ What? Why? Kathy’s lovely-- what have you done?”

Ben rolls his eyes at Callum’s implied accusation. “Well it’s not just Mum. It’s her and Ian. They ambushed me into an ‘intervention’ last night. Said if I don’t get my shit together I’ll be out on the curb by the end of the summer.”

Callum’s frown deepens further. “An intervention? Have you, uh, been using drugs? Or...um...”

Ben chuckles. “If you can call ‘having too much sex’ a drug, then yes.” He smiles broadly, finding his own joke, and like most of his jokes, probably a little too funny.

Callum’s even more confused. And it’s obvious to Ben, his smile barely lasts ten seconds before it's gone again.

“They reckon that I’ve been bringing back too many strange men to the house; that I’m developing...an unhealthy habit. And that they’re tired of walking in on me so often doing the deed” He draws out ‘deed’ almost sleazily, knowing full well that talking about sex makes Callum uncomfortable. Callum thinks he gets too much enjoyment out of it. “Though I don’t see how it’s my fault they never knock.”

“H-how often have you brought back men to make them do that?” He tries to laugh but it sounds as nervous as he feels.

“Most nights of the week.” Ben smiles broadly like he’s proud of the fact. Which he definitely most likely is “I’m convinced if I was straight it wouldn’t be an issue, but that’s an argument for another day.”

Callum blinks, dumbfounded by all of this information, and why Ben is even bothering him with his problems to begin with.

“Right...and how is me doing you a favour help at all?”

“I’m getting there.” Ben snipes, sitting up straighter in his chair, He scratches the back of his head for a moment, thinking again.

He’s uncomfortable and Callum can see that, which only worries him more. He doesn’t know what Ben is about to drop on him but if it’s making him struggle to tell Callum then he knows he’s not going to like it.

“So, basically, my mum is threatening to kick me out if I can’t, sometime soon, get myself a boyfriend. A relationship. ‘Something meaningful and fulfilling’, - her words.”

It takes Callum a minute - but the realisation dawns on him and his stomach drops. This situation can’t be happening, not to him of all people.

“You’re hardly asking me out, are you?” He nearly chokes on his words. He feels like his eyes could pop out of his skull any second.

“What? No. You’re pretty Callum but that’s not what I’m offering.”

The relief that washes over Callum is immediate and he has to take a second to sit back in his chair to really feel it. His brain doesn’t even process the compliment Ben gave him - he knows it wasn’t sincere anyway. He never is, it’s nothing new.

“I am asking you to be my boyfriend though.”

If the room was spinning before it was frozen still now. Ben’s words hang in the air, almost like an echo. Callum doesn’t even believe what he’s just heard - can’t believe the words that just came out of Ben's mouth.

“You what!? You’re taking the mick surely? We’re hardly mates, Ben, you can’t just expect me -

“Stop getting your knickers in a twist, Halfway. I’m not seriously asking you to be my boyfriend.”

His heart is beating a mile a minute and Callum’s just not sure his heart or brain can take much more of this conversation. He’s utterly confused and annoyed and just tired. He’s never had the balls to kick Ben out of his office before but he reckons there’s a first time for anything. But there’s still another wave of relief at Ben’s assurance, even if he has no idea what he’s asking him. He tries to calm himself again.

“I want you to be my fake boyfriend. For the next couple of weeks, at least.”

Never mind.

During this entirely almost one-sided conversation Ben has stayed cool and collected, feeling more relaxed now compared to how he was acting just five minutes ago. Callum’s not sure if that’s him being genuine or if it’s a facade. Either way, it’s not what he’s worrying about right this second. He’s dropped a bombshell on Callum with such ease and nonchalance that even that alone is starting to make Callum’s blood boil.

“You’re taking the piss.”

“I’m not. I like my home, I don’t particularly fancy getting kicked out.”

“Why on earth would I ever agree to that? Have you gone mental?”

“Have you considered what’s in it for you?”

He stalls. He knows Ben well enough now that his deals are shoddy and his plans hardly ever work out in anyone's favour, least of all his own. But he knows what the other man is hinting at - a bribe. Money. Money that Callum needs, and desperately.

But it’s too ridiculous, too stupid, and just not worth the hassle. Callum will find another way to get the money. He has to. He needs to.

He sighs dejectedly. Sometimes - and only sometimes - he wishes he had the same level of cockiness and confidence that just oozes from the Mitchell lad sitting in front of him. If he had maybe then he could use it against Ben, tell him that he wants nothing to do with him. But he doesn’t, so he can’t.

“I don’t care, Ben, it’s not happening.” It’s as harsh as Callum can make it sound, which means nothing to Ben really.

“I’ll pay you. whatever it takes, I can get it”

And there’s his confirmation that Callum was right. The air in the room is heavy. Hearing the offer out loud makes his stomach turn. This had to be a joke. God, the universe, whatever it was was taking the utter piss out of Callum right now. He needed money, and this is what he’s offered? Is he truly that desperate?

“Ben, I...I can’t. I can’t, it’s a joke.”

“Name your price.” Ben shrugs. He’s leaning back in his chair now, one leg crossed over the other.

“W-What?”

“Your price. Money. How much do you want?”

Callum levels him with a stare. He can’t help but let his gaze flicker down to the rent notice in front of him. He just wanted this to be over. He hates Ben for showing his face today. Wishes that Jay was here, thinks that maybe he wouldn’t have to deal with this right now if his boss wasn’t stuck at home recovering from the night before.

“Why me? Hey? Why does it gotta’ be me? Can’t you get any other bloke to do it?”

“Callum, to be honest, you’re the only other gay guy on the square - at least that I know of. And mum already knows you; she likes you. You get paid. I don’t end up homeless. Works out for everyone.”

And that pisses Callum off. ‘Work out for everyone’ ? Fake or not, Callum’s not even sure if he’s in the right headspace for another relationship just yet. He’s sure Ben’s not even taking his feelings into consideration at all here.

“Are you kidding? That’s your reason? I’m the only other - Jesus Christ, Ben.” His sentence falls almost to a whisper once it leaves his mouth. He knows he might be overreacting, just a bit. It’s Ben. He’s always doing something stupid, without ever taking anyone who could be involved into account. If things were different - if Callum wasn’t struggling to keep his life together at the minute - then it would be an easy, ridiculous, but easy situation to deal with. He would decline - firmly - and ask Ben to piss off. Telling him it’s not worth the stress, that he can find someone else to do it. Or better yet, just take his personal business elsewhere.

But that wasn’t the case. He felt like some cruel, divine force was taunting him. Teasing him with a way out of his problems, a solution. But not without consequence. He tolerated Ben. He didn’t have to see that much of him, didn’t really know him. He didn’t particularly hate him, but he wasn't fond of him either. To spend weeks with him; intimately, romantically, under false pretences, for money of all reasons -- it all sounded like a devils contract to Callum. Albeit a bit dramatic it didn’t sound far off from the truth of the situation.

Ben interrupts Callum’s crises with another blow. “I might have already told her I was datin’ you.”

“You what?”

“I didn’t mean to, it just came out. I was drunk, I panicked. If it’s worth anything, she was really pleased to hear it was you.”

“Ben, for fucksake.” He throws hands up, exasperated and just done with this whole conversation.

“Callum you’d really be doing me big one, mate-”

“Don’t call me mate - you know what, just leave Ben.”

“But -” Ben tries, pleads almost to get more words out, to convince Callum that it wasn't as bad as it sounds.

“Leave.” It’s as firm as Callum can muster but it’s enough for Ben. There was a flash of disappointed on his face, only there for a second but Callum caught it. He felt a pang of guilt in his stomach. Both he and Ben’s situations weren’t much different. He can guess how he feels.

Ben left his office without another word.

Callum stared at the empty chair that Ben was sat in it only minutes ago. It felt like a lifetime now, after experiencing the whirlwind of emotions the Mitchell boy just put him through. He scrubbed a hand over his eyes for a few seconds. The whole ordeal exhausted him.

He wants to shoot Jay a quick text - tell him he’s going to close up early. But he doesn’t. He can’t really afford to, not now.

He looks at the notice one more time, just for a minute, before he’s folding it up again and stuffing it into his pocket. He had hoped, maybe, that he could just forget about it for a few hours. Until he’s home again and can’t ignore it anymore. But he can feel it still, pressing against his leg. He can’t run away from it as much as he’s tried all day.

He feels lost.

-------

It felt like an eternity but six o’clock finally rolls around and he’s locking up the building the second the second hand on his watch reached twelve. It’s days like today that Callum’s thankful he doesn’t have to go far to get home. Not that he can get much closer anyway.

His flat is so dark and empty now. He didn’t realise how many small, homey things Chris owned until they were gone.

He takes his blazer off and throws it haphazardly on the couch. He can iron it later, wrinkles were the least of his worries right now.

It takes him only five minutes to regret it though. The Undertaker’s were always so warm and surprisingly cosy. It wasn’t something he really noticed when he first started working there, not until recently.

He hasn’t turned the heating on in his flat in a week or so; it costs too much now, so he’ll only throw it on when he has guests over; but even that wasn’t much of a common occurrence lately, save a few visits he gets from Stuart from time to time.

But it’s fine. He owns two hot water bottles and he can layer up on clothes. He makes it work, even if he wishes he didn’t have to.

His stomach interrupts his thoughts. He didn’t get the chance to eat lunch earlier - not when Ben was harassing him for the umpteenth time. The panic of his proposition and the overdue rent notice had caused him to lose his appetite.

And now he’s reminded of it again. He sighs heavily and grabs it out of his pocket. It fills him with dread, reading it again for what felt like the hundredth time.

FINAL WARNING

RENT DUE: £ 3, 380. 000

RENT HAS BEEN OVERDUE FOR SOMETIME. PLEASE MAKE YOUR PAYMENT BY JUN 17TH 2019 OR YOU ARE IN DANGER OF EVICTION

The number makes him want to cry. He considered for a moment, if he can borrow from anyone. Stuart and Mick come to mind first but he knows they don’t have the money to spare, even just for themselves. Anyway, he’d feel too guilty asking for so much. It was currently the tenth of June. He was running out of time.

His stomach growls again. He throws the notice down on the kitchen counter. He was tired of looking at it. He read the warning too many times today as it was, it was starting to drive him mad.

It takes him only a minute before Callum’s reminded again how today just really wasn’t his day.

The fridge was almost barren, save a tub of butter, quarter pint of milk, a few stray vegetables, and two single leftover slices of pizza from the night before.

He couldn’t stop the lump in his throat. He was so frustrated and so tired and he just wanted a break. He was cold and hungry and flat broke. He wanted to challenge the universe, yell at his empty flat if it had anything else planned for him to go wrong in his life. He wanted to cry, to break something.

But he wasn’t stupid. He knew it to be pointless, to get angry and wreck something that would probably end up costing him more money to replace in the end anyway.

He tries to swallow the lump down harshly.

He feels his heart sink a little, when he remembers that he still has one viable option left.

He has his phone out and his thumb hesitantly hovers over his name. Tries to console himself, that at least it wasn’t something stupidly dangerous or illegal. Save for the danger to his own sanity. He takes a deep breath and he calls.

It’s on the third ring when Ben answers.

“I’ll do it.” Callum speaks before Ben gets the chance to offer a greeting, “But I want the cash upfront and as soon as possible.”

“How much?” It doesn’t sit with him well that that’s all Ben can offer to say to him in the moment. But he supposes it’s enough, he doesn’t want to drag out the conversation either.

“Four thousand.” His voice wavers. It’s a risk, asking for so much. He didn’t consider that maybe it’s too high of a number and that Ben will tell him to piss off, that he’ll find someone else. He decides he hates that outcome more.

“It’s a deal.”

And that was that. They didn’t have much more of a conversation. Ben sounded unbothered, told Callum he’ll talk to him tomorrow with more information, that he needed to get some things sorted first.

Callum guesses it’s the money. Assumes that Ben must be more desperate than he’s letting Callum know.

‘It’s only a few weeks’ He tells himself. ‘It won’t be that bad.’

Yet still, he can’t help but feel he just signed his soul away to the Devil.

#hi i havent written a fic in years so soz if its trash #its also my first ever fic posted on tumblr wowza #also im so stupid for starting this a week before i go back to college lmao #ballum #benway #ben mitchell #callum highway #ee #eastenders #luv me a good fake dating au

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regencylady1810 · 5 years

Text

Lost in Desire and Decorum Chapter 1

Prologue Here https://regencylady1810.tumblr.com/post/188771085064/lost-in-desire-and-decorum-prologue

Tags- @princess-geek @malakbesharah

Characters Belong to Pixelberry. Inspiration taken from Lost In Austen and Goodnight Sweetheart

Previously- Laura has seemingly come into the world of desire and decorum. Is it real or just an hallucination.

There he was. Ernest Sinclaire. The beautiful, handsome Ernest Sinclaire. Who looked at me and rode on.

“Can you believe the nerve of him? We are walking here!” Briar called. She said the very same line.

“At least he is pleasant looking.” I replied. “And anyhow, I think it is us more at fault. We ran into the road. He was riding on the road, luckily for his fast reflexes he stopped.” I said as a filler to the canon line I didn’t instantly remember. Then I did. “A glimpse of him may be the best part of my day.” Perhaps even my whole life because I had just seen a living, breathing, real flesh and bones Ernest Sinclaire.

“He had eyes for you, I can tell.” Blair smirked and said in a teasing tone. Amazingly her voice sounded exactly as I always imagined it did. “It was a lingering look. And we all know what lingering means!” That was different I didn’t recall that line. “That and you lingered too. Mutual lingering. For it is indeed common knowledge that mutual lingering is the first step to falling in love.”

“Briar, I think you have said lingering too much in too shorter time.” I smiled.

“That may be, but it is still the truth. Oh can you imagine if you two will cross paths again.” Briar smiled. “You must forgive me, going all romantic again.”

“I also have a feeling our paths shall cross again.” I smiled. If this was indeed real or simply a hallucination, I know I would be meeting him again.

Another voice came, and then I knew what was coming, it was the death of my mother. Briar and I came running to the cottage. I knew it was coming, yet because I hadn’t got my head around my situation, I hadn’t realised it. I went into the bedroom. This woman whom I had never met, her life peacefully reaching it’s end. A woman I had never met and yet I still felt a bond with her. I was afraid of losing her. It was like she was my mother.

“Laura, my sweet, I must speak to you before it is too late, about your father.” I knew what it was. I knew. But I took her hand and nodded.

“I am so sorry for lying. For saying he is dead, in truth he is alive. Your father is the Earl of Edgewater, the head of a large powerful estate, just a day’s journey from here.”

Again I nodded. Which probably seemed more that I was rendered speechless from the shock.

“We were in love, but his father forbade our marriage, the family cast me aside before I discovered I was with child. I did not want you to endure the heartache as I had and to only be known as the bastard child of an earl, so I hid the truth. I made the best decision for you...please forgive me.”

“Yes mama. I forgive you. I don’t want you to go.” tears in my eyes.

“I know, Laura, I don’t want to go, but you do ease my heart. I have written to your father, he is sending someone to send you to Edgewater next week. He will take care of you after I leave you. I know I can rest in peace knowing you are cared for and safe.”

Again I didn’t say anything, from actually knowing what was going to happen and that the tears were falling.

“He will give you the life you should have always had, will you go?”

“Yes mama. I will.” I replied.

“Be strong my beautiful girl never forget who you are.” she whispered.

“Mama, I am here. You can rest now.” her eyes closed and I passed out.

When I came around I realised I was in a bed in another room of the cottage. It was all real.

“Oh God it is real.” I said. Thinking I would wake up in my bedroom in 2019. Back to my uneventful life and I hadn’t.

“It is, I am so sorry.” Briar said. She hugged me tighly. It was there I told her about being the Earl’s daughter. I then had to experience over that week unknown events. The funeral, the readying to leave. I was gradually becoming more and more used to it. And yet I was keen to know how it was all possible. Briar saying she wanted to be my maid so we could stay together.

After the week, the carriage arrived. Mr Woods and Briar lingering. Hopefully it wouldn’t be up to me if she prefers Mr Woods or Mr Marlcaster. I was also eagerly awaiting the next meeting with Ernest.

I loved the carriage ride, there was something about a carriage ride that cars could never meet up to. We brought the new dresses, actually being able to get it as there was real money that we had been given. I had far more free reign without the ties of diamonds!

Eventually the house was in my sight. It was absolutely beautiful. I saw Henrietta, I knew that was coming, I mentally had been planning a different comeback to her.

“So you are Miss Laura Weston? The charity case. This is only temporary” she sneered. I was ready for her, knowing she would be as she seemed.

“Oh you wait and see. You’ll one day be the charity case.” was the response I would have said but thought of after she left and Lady Grandmother arrived. Oh God. It was really hard to like her when I knew what she was going to do. I realised what was going to happen. If I was going to have to live my life here I wanted to stop that, change it. I was not going through the Duke Richards fisaco I decided...especially as there’s no way of skipping days. I actually would have to live them. She requested me spin and I did, if I was going to stop it, I still had to be well mannered...just more obvious about my feelings of Mr Sinclaire.

“So you are my son’s daughter. I do indeed see him in you. You do indeed look a lot like him. You have his eyes, his nose, his hair colour. One would have to be blind to not see the similarity between you two.”

I was eagerly looking at the doors, knowing Mr Sinclaire should come out at any moment at that time. And finally he did. He truly was a God in human form, and his suit only added to his already handsome features.

“Mr Sinclaire, meet my granddaughter, Miss Laura Weston. Laura, this is Mr Ernest Sinclaire of Ledford Park.”

“Ah yes, his natural daughter, the Earl mentioned your arrival.”

I knew that was coming, but I knew his true nature. And well. If I were to avoid the set path, I would have to be more obvious.

I was still not over the fact this whole situation was real and I was just staring at him. Probably not the best idea, of course lady grandmother mentioned how he should give a tour of the gardens.

And so it began. The walk that started the journey.

As usual I was planning a conversation in my head, but I was so perplexed that he was real. Ernest Sinclaire was a living human being not a pixelled fictional character. I could barely say anything for I was starstruck. But he wasn’t say much either, as he was in the story.

“Your grandmother was a very talented landscapest.” I stated. I gave myself a mental appluase. I actually spoke to him. Oh how I wish I had the confidence of the MC! Inner me kept saying to speak to him. Say one of the actual lines to him it said to me. “You do not speak very much sir. Perhaps you can tell me more about you.” I said.

“Such as?” he asked.

“Your family maybe? Likes and dislikes. Interests?” I suggested. It is hard to pretend not to know someone when you already know a lot about them.

“No. It is just me.” he answered. Not answering the other suggestions

“You are a man of few words Mr Sinclaire.” I smiled.

“I find idle conversation to be a waste of time.” he remarked. He was saying what he was, I had to try my best to stick to it as best as possible. “Why remark on such things like the weather and mere pathetic gossip. My time is valuable, Miss Weston. The same cannot be said for others.”

“Idle conversation, can allow one to grow closer to another.” I smirked. “Or are you afraid of breaking down your wall?” He looked starled, as though I had worked out his cleverly laid plan. It was working, it was working as it should. I had to get this part of the story to stay the same, but the unsavory to change. I had to do it.

“We should continue.” he cleared his throat. His pace quickening a bit. I do not know quite what to make of you Miss Weston. You are very different from the other women I have encountered here.”

“Let me guess...I am different to the others because of my handsome looks and angelic yet wittish charm?” I smiled. Wow, I really was gaining confidence by the second. He looked away blushing. It was working, the story was panning out as it should.

“I did not say that.” he replied.

“Perhaps you did not with words. But there are other ways to say things Mr Sinclaire. Through the manner of the body, through the eyes...the colour of the cheeks.” I replied. “What is your opinion of me sir?”

“I do not need to inform you of that surely?”

“How about I go first? I find you to be rather alluring. There’s a mystery about you that I am intriqued to uncover.” I said. I totally would have been completly honest but it was not suitable for a ‘first meeting.’

He looked like he wanted to say more, but backed out. “Shall we continue?” he said. We strolled on, getting to the lake. It truly was beautiful.

“This is such a beautiful view.” I said. Smiling watching the spring landscape in awe.

“It is, as a boy I would walk here everyday with my grandmother.” he replied. “Never failed to impress me or take my breath away. But now reminds me of happier times.” My poor Ernest, suffered so much. This is part of my plan. To prevent the future events that hurt him. I cannot do anything of the prior events but I will stop the upcoming.

“You miss your mother. I am sorry for your loss.” he said.

“Yes...but I apperciate little reminders, it’s like she’s still here. Not gone entirely.” I answered.

“No matter how long passes, memories never fade.” he said, so sadly it broke my heart. I just wanted to give him a big hug. But knew I had to hold back. Our eyes meeting. Such a beautiful sapphire shade.

“Your grandmother was indeed talented.” I smiled.

“Yes. Your grandmother asked her to do the gardens.” he said.

“She does give the impression she is not one to be refused.” I stated. A smile. A small laugh. The story was continuing to go as it should.

“Was that a genuine smile?” I teased. The smile fell and he refused it was ever present. “I know what I saw. You will not convince me otherwise.” I remembered the hand brushing of the moment, so I carefully and discretly brushed mine against his warm hand.

“Miss Weston!” he said in surprise. I smiled.

“Yes, Mr Sinclaire?”

“We...should head back.” he said standing up. “You will want to meet your father.” He offered his arm. I wouldn’t be surprised if my whole face was the shade of a tomato, butterflies were full in my stomach. I was actually arm in arm with Ernest Sinclaire.

At the door he let go. “Thank you for the tour. I hope we shall see more of each other.” I stated. “I really enjoyed our time together.”

“It was not as dreadful as I feared.” he replied.

“That might be the most favourable thing you have said all afternoon.” I said in a joking manner.

“Until we meet again.” he said bowing and walking away. I sighed, enamoured by the experience. Wow, that felt intense, it felt passionate. It felt otherworldly.

I made my way inside seeing the inside for the first time. It was stunning. I met with Lady Grandmother. Really emphasising how much I liked him.

I collided with Miss Parsons, we talked for a short time as she was in a rush. I was keen to have her as a friend. I noted to myself to make it very clear to her I like/love Mr Sinclaire and see if she will also drop hints. I had to do everything in my power.

Then came the moment. Going up the stairs, in the corridor and knocking on the wood of the door to father’s study.

#desire and decorum #ernest sinclaire #ernest sinclaire x mc #mr sinclaire #mr sinclaire x mc #desire and decorum book 1 #desire and decorum book 2 #desire and decorum book 3 #pb choices fanfiction #desire and decorum fanfic

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elopez7228 · 4 years

Text

Scenic route 20/47

Read on AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/18268208/chapters/43229774

Start over : https://elopez7228.tumblr.com/post/620919089893933056/scenic-route-0147

***

The conversation flowed amicably and Rey was quite relaxed by the time the Millenium Falcon reached the parking lot of the tourism office.

Maz left the car with one last affectionate pat for BB8, taking a moment to thank Rey for wishing her safe travels.

Inside the immense air-conditioned mass that was the tourism office, a 4-feet-wide digital clock showed the countdown until the next eruption of the geyser.

With nearly half an hour to spare, Rey took a walk through the gift shop. She briefly admired the keychains and postcards, before pausing in front of an item that left her quite perplexed. Bear spray? What on earth was that?

The shopkeeper—who was appropriately decked out in green forest ranger attire—informed her that it was used by hikers to ward off bears in the unfortunate event of an encounter. An accessory that would surely save lives, given the population of grizzlies that roamed freely within the park.

Rey bought one because she knew that only too well. The odds of her being attacked by a bear a second time in so few days were low, but she had learned not to underestimate her natural tendency to conjure bad luck out of nowhere.

Her phone informed her it was almost show time, so she settled on one of the benches installed in a semi circle at a safe distance from the white crater of the geyser.

***

Syed felt like a punk in a playground. She had ended up in the middle a sea of tourists who were all wearing some hideous combination of sun hats, shorts, Hawaiian shirts, cameras, and—she shuddered—socks with sandals. She stuck out like a sore thumb against the pastel masses with her tall black-clad frame, her numerous piercings, and her menacing brass chains.

She cursed Kylo for sending her to hell, far from her friends, her audience, her guns... and him. She had taken multiple photographs of a very sloppily dressed Rey, who had taken the Millennium Falcon for a joyride. Now she was wondering who to send them to. Kylo? Or Hux? Or maybe Snoke?

Theoretically, she was doing this mission on behalf of Kylo Ren. But he had shown signs of weakness that in his interest, she had the duty to report further up the chain of command...his obsession for this little English brat was beyond comprehension.

He used the hunt for environmental activists as an excuse to justify his meddlesome romantic advances, but Syed was no fool. This girl was just a tourist. She wasn’t a secret agent of the Earth Soldiers. She was frolicking about with sunglasses and a cap glued to her skull, sipping some basic frappuccino, bothering bears, and taking selfies. It was improbable, and even impossible, that she was on a mission for an ecologist association that was making dooms-day preparations. She was too relaxed; obviously a woman on vacation, certainly not an agent on active duty.

Syed meanwhile, was always on the clock. It was a shame really, the amount of time had she wasted stalking that bitch.

She finally sent the photos to Armitage Hux. He was particularly pleased when he received an image of Kylo in the throes of passion with his plaything. She didn’t know what he would do with it, but she knew from experience that when Kylo needed a guardrail, Armitage Hux was the man of the hour. He would simply do a little sleight of hand and suddenly the unruly punk would fall back in line.

Everything would be back to normal...like nothing had ever happened.

As for Kylo Ren himself, knowing he needed a bone to chew on, she sent him hourly reports of his little protege, deliberately omitting any mention of the hitchhiker. It was really the only useful information of the day; and she preferred to keep an ace up her sleeve in case he decided to be difficult.

The hitchhiker was nearing the Millennium Falcon again, and Syed went off to disappear into the crowd.

The little woman circled the car for a while, then sat down on the hood, with spectacular ease. She took off her hiking boots and massaged the soles of her feet. Syed rolled her eyes. For fuck’s sake, this old hag was probably less important an update than she had initially anticipated.

When Rey came back, the woman had come down from her perch and was waiting patiently next to the mirror. Rey frowned. People had to seriously stop their fascination with her car. What was that all about?

All her wonder at the sight of the geyser (the truly magnificent explosion of water and steam as high as a five-storey building), faded to give way to an anxiety that was alas, very familiar.

"You’re still here?” Her reaction was harsher than intended, spurred on by the unexpected intrusion.

"I was waiting for you, I hope you don’t mind," Maz replied innocently. “I haven’t found another ride, may we continue some of this journey together?”

Rey regretted her initial inclemency. She reacted too intensely, to everything. She took a breath to force herself to regain her composure. Maz was harmless, but it was easy to see why she was struggling to find a helping hand: the park was teaming with pretentious tourists who were reluctant to change their route or their agenda...and who were suspicious of pickpockets. She had been one of them, after all.

Rey sighed, her shoulders sagging. “Okay, fine...but I’m warning you, I’m doing a tour of all the geological marvels out here.” She said with a smile.

“Fine with me,” Maz smiled in return. “Thank you very much. I promise you won’t even know I’m here.”

Rey swallowed a remark about Maz’s tiny stature, and gently pushed BB8 over to make space.

“It's funny,” Rey observed. “BB8 doesn’t seem at all disturbed by your presence. She’s rather aggressive with strangers, usually.”

“What strangers?” Maz laughs, reaching out to stroke the dog.

"Oh, just one stranger in particular," Rey corrected with a wave of her hand. “It was impossible for him to approach, she would try to bite him.”

“Had they met before?”

“No, of course not. He would have told me if...” Rey’s voice caught in her throat.

Did Ben and BB8 have history? It was unbelievable, and yet...he had immediately shown interest in her, seemingly out of nowhere, when they had joined him in the Jackson Hole Lodge parking. He even outright asked if BB was her dog.

It was a silly question to ask someone walking with a dog on a leash. Why would he need confirmation?

Now that she thought about it, he had asked the same strange question about the Millennium Falcon:

Is this your car?

Obviously, it was hers. It’s not like she was just playing Russian roulette out there, hoping to find a car she could force open in the middle of the parking garage. But it was strange that he tried to make sure.

That said, in his defense, perhaps it was simply because the Millennium Falcon was an infamous bastard of a car. Anyone would have been shocked at seeing a machine like this still in use! Who knows what went on in Ben’s head?

Her face had scrunched up into a worried expression, which did not escape Maz.

"Something bothering you?” She asked in a gentle voice, “maybe I can be of some help?”

"I don’t really know," said Rey, still pensive, as she slowly pulled out of the parking space, "I've experienced some rather unlikely things since I landed in Denver. I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

"Start at the beginning," Maz replied encouragingly. “I've got plenty of time.”

That afternoon, Rey and Maz visited some of the most spectacular geological sites around the volcano: boiling springs that gave way to rainbows, geysers by the dozen, bubbling fumaroles ...they even crossed paths with animals that were once threatened in the wild—but were in total safety within the park’s verdant confines. They came upon placid bison, elk, and bald eagles. Thankfully, they saw neither bears nor wolves. These animals, however numerous, tended not to approach busy trails.

They spoke a lot.

Rey found in Maz an attentive third party, to whom she could open up without fear of judgment, and especially without fear of the rampant sexual tension present in her conversations with Ben. She knew he was attracted to her, he did nothing to hide it. But as a result, she continually wondered if the words he said were sincere, rather than a carefully prepared speech designed to charm her to his bed. He had almost managed to get there, in fact.

In principle, there was no harm to that, she was a consenting adult. And she had to admit that she had savored every kiss, every touch...But her own ardor worried her. Had she flirted with Ben Solo because she wanted him, or because she needed to be reassured, to be held, after what Finn had done to her?

She had to put her heart back in place, heal her wounds, find her inner peace. Only then would she consider Ben Solo.

"You do not want to make him your consolation prize," Maz hummed sagely. “That is rather commendable.”

“I don’t think he cares either way. I mean, we are both consenting adults, but I don’t want to be a trophy...be just another notch in his bedpost.”

"You should talk to him...is it possible you’re mistaken about his intentions towards you?”

Rey narrowed her eyes. “Yes, we need to talk ...” about more than you know.

Maz was from Florida. She was bored of her apartment which sat at one end of the land, and thus decided one morning to go on foot to the other end. She had plenty of time, and improvised her itinerary at random. She had a host of tales to tell about backpacking trips to Central Asia or South America, often far from cities and crowds, and Rey began to wonder how old she really was.

It was impossible to say: her face was both smooth and furrowed, her eyes constantly hidden behind huge triple-focus glasses. Her hands were small but her fingers were long and bony. Despite her diminutive appearance, she seemed to burst with energy, and possessed an exceptional amount of savoir faire.

Yellowstone? She knew every corner of the place. Alaska? She knew which roads to use in which season. London? She had lived there twice in her youth. The Millenium Falcon? She had once owned a car of the same make and model. BB8? Canine behavior was no mystery to her.

What a strange old woman, Rey pondered, finally glad to have good company.

Black Sand Basin, Geyser Basin, Great Fountain Geyser, Lower Geyser Basin...The park's attractions were like cat nip to tourists, including Rey and Maz. It was hard to blame people for coming all the way to Yellowstone form the corners of the globe.

Evening was falling. The day had been exhausting, the traffic was atrocious, and the heat was stifling.

Rey went to the Madison Village campground in the park to reserve a place for the night.

Everything was complete.

Finally able to stop panicking, she was content to sleep in her car in the campground parking. Simple as that.

But what about Maz?

Leaving the campsite's bungalow, she returned to her car. The little woman was standing there, her bag hoisted on her shoulders.

"I’m all done for today," Rey explained, “I'm going to sleep in the car, they told me it was okay as long as I paid parking fees. How about you?”

She gestured awkwardly at the car. “Do you want the back seat? BB8 can come sleep with me...?”

Maz smiled to assuage her fears. “Don’t worry, young lady. I'm used to sleeping under the stars.”

"Right here?! With the bears and everything—“ Rey was incredulous.

“Don’t fret. I’ll take care of myself, you take care of yourself and BB8.”

Rey looked away as the sound of tinkling bracelets faded into the distance. Better not think about it, the last thing she need was an extra dose of anxiety. And besides, she was hungry.

The vending machine at the campsite procured a packet of chips, a flavorless coffee, and a Snickers bar. Dejectedly, she looked down at her meal. It was the food pyramid of sadness.

She wanted fresh vegetables and a hot plate...she would have to plan better tomorrow. These snacks were barely what she considered food.

What was Finn doing now? She couldn’t help but wonder.

He was probably still on the respirator; if there had been any improvement in his condition, Poe would have called her.

What was Ben Solo doing?

That was easy, he was about to give a concert. Rey pulled out her phone. Should she call him or send him a message? She opted for a message.

Good luck with the concert tonight! Not too nervous I hope?

An answer arrived immediately. He wasn’t on stage yet.

Thanks for the good vibes! But I wish you were here in the room.

#reylo #fanfiction #Scenic route #Modern AU

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odissey061 · 4 years

Text

Motonari's route

Chapter(s) posted:

1. This freak won't have me

2. Kick him in the teeth

Please, teach me a better way to create link because I can't do it by myself

Chapter 3: This trick never worked at human's memory

Tag: @towa-no-yume @r-f-a-journalists

When I open my eyes the first thing I feel is an acute headache: the hands run through the hair until I discover a bump. I press it to see if I feel the pain and then I whimper like a baby: it hurts a lot. Why I'm so stupid? I take a look around me and I notice I'm in a cold and empty cell. The room is surrounded by three wooden walls and before me there's an iron grille. Here and there on the floor against the wall there are spooky chains that make me chill and smile nervously. At this moment I heard the rolling waves and I understand I'm on a ship.

Where I am? How many time has passed since my kidnap? I must return to the Oda right now! A lot of hours passed since I left Azuchi castle: I told to Hideyoshi I'd come back after lunch, so probably they have already noticed my absence.

I try open the door but, obviously, is locked and I look around to find something to force the look, but the room is empty, except the chain on the wall. Then I took a clip from my hair and, holding it tight in the hand, I pray:"At human memory this trick never worked, but, please, if there's even the littlest chance, make it happens". Great, now I pray to objects like they were gods!

I plug the clasp in the door lock but, as I expected, it doesn't work. Pushed by despair, I retry again and again, but after a large number of failed attempts and swears, finally I give up and I lean my back on the wall. A man appears in front of me: he's very tall and his body is made by tons of muscles, his eyes shining with malice. With a look I understand this man is a brute and he doesn't hesitate to use violence and if I had to fight against him, I'd probably die. "Who are you and why I'm here?" I demand, but he laughs dryly:"I'm the one who makes the questions here, little girl" and he opens the door. As he spoke, I recognize him as the man who kidnapped me. He enters in the cell and leaves open the door. I try to gain more time:"I understand why you kidnapped me: I'm very close to the Oda commanders and your boss wants information about them", Well, at least you are not stupid, that makes easier my work. So little girl, talk about your friends" he comments. "The problem is exactly about this: you see, I'm only their maid and I don't know anything about their future moves, so keep me here is useless" I lie and I walk towards the door. But the man grabs my hair, making me moan for the pain and yells at me:"You think I'm so stupid to believe you? I'm not a fool! In Azuchi people say Nobunaga brought you to battle on his horse His voice becomes lower, still being threatening:"If you don't tell me spontaneously all you know about them, I'll make you confess with the bad manners". And when he shows a bag full of torture instruments and I'm terrified. I don't know very much about torture, but I can imagine how much they'd hurt my body. I want to scream for help, but I know nobody will save me. My face gets paler. I know already how this will finish: this man will torture me until I speak, but I don't know anything, so he'll kill me for nothing. I'll die for anything!!

"I'm not his lover: I'm his maid and I have been staying in Azuchi for a few days. I don't know anything about them and if I knew something, I surely won't talk to you" I repeat using a quiet voice to not make him angrier. "Bad answer" he smiles sadistically, almost happy about my resistance and slaps me so violently to turn my head. "Try again, little girl, but the next time I won't so merciful".

"And if I don't confess what are you going to?" I bravely provoke him. The Oda forces helped me a lot and I won't betray them for my own safety. "I'll break all of your bones and if you won't talk, then I'll cut the tendons of your hands and your feet. If you still won't confess I'll remove your eyes, then I'll tear your ears and finally I'll cut your tongue" his threats scare me a lot, but I won't give up my loyalty. He takes from the bag a strange object and he places it near to my nails.

No no no no. Please, somebody help me!

I close the eyes too scared to watch, but at that moment I hear a new voice:"Yoshitoko, what are you doing here? I'm sure the captain hasn't told you to torture this girl since he is out to collect information with a few men. So I wonder: whose order are you following?". I open my eyes and I see a young man who's throwing diggers with the glare at the man in front of me. The newcomer is younger than this man, but somehow the eldest has to obey him. "The captain is still a child, quartermaster: if all of us wait for his command, we'd have alredy died. He doesn't know what to do and he's not able to keep the promise he made" he growls, "He's the captain, not you: he knows what's the best for us better than you. You are only able to hurt people and torture them, for this reason you won't be a captain. Now leave, Yoshitoko" The man speaks with a rough voice and I can feel the subtle threat he silently implies. I except a Yoshitoko's reaction, but he obeys whispering something.

Left alone, the young man is more relaxed walks towards me and I step back, so he reassures me:"I don't want to hurt you. I want to check your wound". I let him check my arm. I groan for the pain when he tries to move it. He looks more friendly than his colleague, so I try to ask:"Can you tell me who are you and how many days passed since my kidnap? Will you torture me again to seek information I don't have?". He sighs: "The arm is broken, now I call a doctor so he can help you better. Now you are on a pirate ship and you were kidnapped by Yoshitoko yesterday, following captain's order. Now the captain is away, but in a short time he'll be back and will decide what to do about you". "Earlier I said the truth: I don't know anything about Nobunaga's future plans. Keep me here he's useless" I whisper, "Even if you don't know anything you'll probably stay here as a political hostage to be used against your friends" the man explains my situation. The sadness overwhelms me to the thought I'll be used against my friends: I can't do this to them. "But as I told you is the captain to decide, so he could even release you" he tries to reassure me, but I have no illusions: if I were in his position I'll do the same. I even realize probably I won't be able to go back to my time. No way this will happen! The man says they wait for their captain, so it means the ship is still in the port: that makes my escape more easily. The man is inside the cell and the grill is open: all I have to do is run and don't be caught. But the pirate in front of me is still vigil even if he's more relaxed, surely is ready to catch me and even I'd beat him he'll give the alarm. No, escape at this moment is too risky but if I don't do it right now later would be impossible.

The only thing I can do is talk with the captain: I'm even ready to beg for my release, it's necessary. "The captain will be here in a few hours, so be more patient" he ends the conversation. "What kind of man is your captain?" I wonder, "The captain? Is an edgy man. He treats with respect his subordinates, but he doesn't trust anyone except me on this ship. Is the type of person who can be your friend but he stabs you in the back some minutes after" he responds. So he's a bastard and the possibilities he'd let me go are very low.

* * *

It's almost evening and Hideyoshi is worried: y/n told him this morning she'd have gone in the city until lunchtime, but she didn't come back. He asked around but nobody was able to tell him where y/n was. He alerted Nobunaga who decided to hold a war council to find her. Hideyoshi expresses all of his worry and Mitsunari takes word with a stern look on his face:"I'm quite worried as well, Lord Hideyoshi. We should look after her".

"Maybe she escaped after she went to war, after all, was her first time on a battlefield. I won't be surprised" Mitsuhide suggests with his cunning tone, but a more careful eye can see a glimpse of worry. In the past days, he went to some places with a very horrible reputation and in a red light district and he noticed a lot of Portuguese men who acted too much secretive for being simply merchant. They were really cautious: they gazed around before speaking with someone and once Mitsuhide risked revealing his true identity. Just today he succeeded to talk with a man after days of failures, but what he discovered was suspicious arms traffic. He didn't discover anything about y/n's missing. And the possibilities she's been kidnapped are not low. "My lucky charm is not a coward, Mitsuhide: she proved it during the war"

Nobunaga scolds him, "Then I suppose we should look after her" snorts Ieyasu. "As if you hadn't done it before, before" teases Mitsuhide: Ieyasu's contrarian reactions are always a delight for him.

"Lord Ieyasu is always so kind" Mitsunari praises him. Ieyasu scolds him:"I told you I wasn't searchi-", "Enough! Each of you will send your own scouts in the city to collect information" Nobunaga stops the discussion. Once the council ends, all the warlord obey to Nobunaga orders, sending men in the city and its surroundings with the order to search for y/n and arrest everyone look suspicious. But as time passes, nobody finds y/n.

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teaplease1717 · 5 years

Text

Gosling Chapter 2

Welcome back! This is my day two entry for 2019 Fluff Week. The theme is unlikely friendships. This is more of a buildup chapter, but hopefully you will still find some of the parts cute.

Before we get started, thank you everyone for all your love and support! It means so much to me! And big thank you again to my awesome beta, EmberStork.

Link to part 1 of 5: https://teaplease1717.tumblr.com/post/185652318716/gosling-ch-1

Disclaimer: Story is mine but TodoMomo and the rest of the characters of Boku no Hero are not…

Xxxxx

The class 1-A dormitory was large but practical. Structured to look like a U, the boys dorms were on the left and the girls on the right. The common area connected the two sides with a large open floor plan that included a fully stocked kitchen, multiple tables and a 60 inch TV surrounded by couches and chairs.

At the moment, the twenty students that made up class 1-A had begun to squeeze onto those couches. No, nineteen. Shouto’s heart tightened as he looked down at the young child cradled on his chest.

“Awww, she’s so cute!” Ashido Mina said, plopping down next to him and leaning in, not caring about Shouto’s personal space as she looked at the child. A smile spread on her pink lips. “What’s your name?” Ashido asked, poking at the child’s foot.

“Yes! Yes! Tell us your name,” Hagakure Toru, echoed appearing like magic next to Ashido (or maybe she had been there the entire time, Shouto didn’t know). Soon all the girls from class 1-A had crowded around him and were cooing and fussing with the child.

Shouto felt his shirt bunch in her small hands and tightened his hold.

“Maybe Momo-chan is embarrassed,” Asui Tsuyu said, a finger resting on her chin in thought.

Uraraka Ochako squealed, smiling happily and clapping her hands together. “That’s too cute!”

Yaoyorozu buried her face further into his shoulder.

“Hey, don’t be embarrassed. We just want to be your friends. I’m Jirou Kyouka. What’s your name?” Jirou asked, her voice softening.

After a pause, the child pushed slightly against his chest and Shouto loosened his hold so she could pull back. Her big, black eyes looked up at him as if asking for permission. When Shouto didn’t respond, a small, embarrassed smile spread across her lips and she mumbled “Momo” before falling forward and burying her face into the crook of his neck.

The girls surrounding him squealed.

Shouto felt a small half-smile pull at the corners of his lips.

“Attention! Ashido-san. Hagakure-san calm down. Everyone sit down,” ordered a tall boy with a wide frame and black hair parted neatly to the left of his head. His rectangular glasses slipped down his nose as he chopped his hand through the air to gain order. “As you know there has been an accident and Yaoyorozu…”

“You make it sound like she’s dead,” Ashido interrupted, leaning back on the couch to poke at Yaoyorozu’s clothes. “Anyways, whose decision was it to get her the All Might onesie?” She asked, cocking her head as she looked over Shouto at Jirou.

“Don’t look at me. You can thank Kaminari for that,” Jirou replied, her ear jack pointing across the room.

“Hey,” Kaminari said from the opposite couch. “You sent me alone and I panicked. But you have to admit, it’s an awesome outfit! Who doesn’t like All Might? Most of my boxers have him on them.”

“Ewww! Too much information,” Jirou laughed from behind her hand.

Shouto deadpanned as he imagined All Might’s signature smile on Kaminari’s crotch.

“Stop your whining and get to the point,” snapped a boy with spiky, blonde hair and red eyes. Obviously fed up with the banter, Bakugo leaned forward, placing his elbows on his spread legs he shot a glare across the room at Shouto. “What the hell happened half and half?”

Shouto’s eyes narrowed.

Bakugo’s question grated on his nerves. As if the whole situation was his fault.

It wasn’t like he wanted Yaoyorozu to be hit with the kid’s quirk. And it wasn’t like he wanted to be the one stuck taking care of her either.

Shouto’s chest tightened. He was the least qualified to care for another. Endeavor had made sure of that. In all likelihood he’d probably just screw up and make her cry like he had his mother. As if feeling his frustration, the midnight black head pulled back and onyx eyes looked owlishly up at him. “Are you mad? Did I do something wrong?” Yaoyorozu asked, her voice tilting with the cadence of a toddler.

The girls surrounding him immediately began to coo at the three year old. Shouto ignored them as he pulled Yaoyorozu back into his chest. “No, I’m not mad.” He said, giving her a small squeeze. After a second, pudgy arms wrapped tentatively around his neck. Shouto felt the anger drain from him. Even as a child, Yaoyorozu was always worried about others.

Iida coughed, bringing his attention back to the front of the room. “That’s right, perfect segway Bakugo-kun. I’m going to turn it over to Mineta-kun who will talk us through the events of this afternoon,” Iida said, stepping back as a small boy with grape like hair stood up and cleared his throat behind his hand.

“At about 0300 a group of us went to the arcade, then, at about 0330 a group of kids came into the arcade and one of them used his quirk to reverse Yaomomo back to a child. We think between 3 or 4 years old.”

“We also know from discussions with the bra-” Mineta faked a cough. “The kid’s mother and observation that Yaomomo will stay a kid for the next 24 to 48 hours, has lost the majority of her memories after age 3 and will only follow around the first person she saw when turned. As such, we have dubbed this the duckling quirk.”

“Why? Ducks don’t follow the first person they see. Isn’t it more like a gosling?” asked Sero Hanata.

“That’s true kero,” said Asui. A murmur of agreement rustled through the students.

“Quiet! Quiet! Gosling or duckling; who cares? The problem is that Yaomomo’s hot body is gone!”

Shouto frowned. It was no secret that Mineta had lecherous tendencies and had tried to prey on Yaoyorozu over the last three years. Using her innocence and naivety to trick her into falling for his plans. Anger welled up inside him at the memories and he felt the familiar chill of his quirk but when he looked down nothing was there.

“So what do we do now?” asked Ochako hesitantly.

Midoriya fidgeted next to her. “I don’t know. I…I guess just wait?” he said, his eyes dropping to the floor.

Heated discussion broke out on what to do next. Shouto sighed, he wished Yaoyorozu was here. She always knew what to do. She was reliable and mature and that’s why he trusted her. His chest tightened strangely at the thought of her.

“What about changing her back? Don’t quirks have a limit or something? Didn’t you say something like that Bakugo? Back during the sports festival.” Kirishima asked, turning to Bakugo.

“That was different dumbass.”

Midoriya looked up. “Technically that could work,” he said, rubbing his chin in thought. “Usually all quirks can be reversed or weakened one way or another. Like Mineta-kun’s quirk can be countered by fire or ice. Maybe if -”

“Midoriya,” The teenagers looked up. Standing in the doorway was Aizawa Shoto, their homeroom teacher. His tired eyes narrowed on Midoriya. “Time altering quirks are extremely sensitive. If forcibly reversed they could do permanent damage.“

Shouto’s throat felt dry. Aizawa continued.

"Iida already informed me of the situation,” Aizawa said, his gaze leaving Midoriya to sweep over the rest of the class. “It’s best not to try anything extreme, unless any of you are looking to adopt.”

“We’d never do anything to hurt Yaomomo,” Jirou said, a flush had worked its way over her face at the unspoken accusation. Shouto saw some of the other students nod in agreement.

“But what if we just try something easy to turn her back, like trying to get her memories back with games or something?” Kamanari asked.

Aizawa sighed. “That should be fine. Just nothing that would endanger her or yourselves. And don’t have her practice her quirk,“ he ordered, his voice sounded more tired than usual. A murmur of agreement passed through the students. "I’ll be back later to check in on her and I’ll bring dinner for the rest of you. In the meantime don’t go out and don’t do anything stupid.”

The class nodded again.

"Iida, notify me if anything in Yaoyorozu’s condition changes.”

Iida saluted (yes, sir!). Aizawa stared at his class for another moment before turning around and leaving as silently as he had entered.

The tension in the room visibly relaxed.

“Yeah! Free food!” Kaminari, Ashido and Mineta shouted.

“But that’s one powerful quirk. I can only imagine if the kid becomes a villain,” said Sero thoughtfully.

“That’s true but we don’t know how it works, it could just turn whoever he touches his age,” said Midoriya.

“Hey! Focus on one thing at a time nerd,” Bakugo barked and for once Shouto agreed with Lord Explosion Murder. They needed to get Yaoyorozu back and soon. He didn’t know how long he’d be able to take care of her like this. He was already afraid his hand crushing curse had infected her. If he made her cry, he’d never forgive himself. Shouto gulped.

“Todoroki-kun? Are you alright?” Midoriya asked, concern evident on his face. “Don’t worry. I think it’s still worth it if we try and get Yaoyorozu back but, if we can’t, it’s only for a day or two and we’ll all be around to help out. Or I mean I don’t mind helping,” he said bashfully, rubbing the back of his head.

“Don’t back down Midoriya! It’s not very manly,” said Kirishima punching his fist into his other hand.

“Yes, as class president, it is my duty to help all my classmates. You can count on me,” said Iida, adjusting his glasses.

“And me too,” Uraraka smiled.

“Yeah, as friends I don’t mind helping out too Todoroki,” Mineta said, nodding in agreement. Shouto looked down at Yaoyorozu. He had been forced to grow up in isolation. Training until his body nearly broke but now he wasn’t alone.

Yaoyorozu was looking up at him with a big smile. Absently, he smoothed down some of her hair as the rest of the class joined in agreeing to help anyway they could. Their support filled him with warmth. Friends. He had never thought he’d be so lucky to have so many people that would care and support him. He didn’t have to do this alone. “Thanks.”

“Good! Now let’s begin operation get Yaomomo’s boobs back!” Mineta said, pumping his fist into the air.

Shouto internally grimaced. No one said he had to like all of his friends.

Xxxx

Second chapter done. Sorry, not too much fluff in this one but don’t worry the cuteness will increase in the next chapter. Thanks everyone for all your support! Your feedback/kudos are always appreciated!

@bnha-fluff-week

#bnha fluff week 2019 #bnha-fluff-week-2019 #fluff #todomomo #todoroki shouto #Yaoyorozu Momo #My Story #Day 2 Unlikely Friends

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wesker20 · 5 years

Text

Fallen Hero 1.5 Episode 3: Old Friends

Spoilers for those who have not read the Alpha.

“Ma chérie, what did you do?” Mortum says while staring at the destroyed taser weapon.

“Me nothing. My boss...” you drag out the silence for a second before finishing with “they fought a polymorph.” Mortum looks at you with raised eyebrows as if a sudden understanding just hit her.

“Oh. Well that’s understandable,” she says while staring at the weapon again. “You want me to fix it?”

“I want you to make it better. More powerful without frying itself.”

Mortum scratches her chin as she thinks. “I could change the power source. You can get it for cheap but it will be bigger. A battery of the same size would be considerably more expensive.”

“You know money is not a problem. Make it the small source.” Almost as if on cue, Mortum turns around and goes to her table.

“If you are willing Ma chérie, it will only take a couple of hours.”

Good to know you think. “By the way,” you begin as you head towards her and walk around the table to face her. “Do you have any information about said polymorph?”

“Maybe, but you are going to have to describe them to me, I’m no psychic.”

“five six, probably five seven, long black hair, thin and wears a red and white skin tight suit.”

Mortum raises her head up for a second as if checking up a mental list. “Red Doll. Doll, for short.”

“Never heard of her.”

“You wouldn’t. She and her partner, The Shine, have only been at this for a couple of months. Newcomers. Right mindset too. It’s better to begin with a partner than alone.” She goes back to working on the taser.

“More like was a good mindset. Mastermind killed Shine last week. Now Doll wants payback.” Mortum chuckles but does not say anything. Probably thinking the same thing you are, Doll is letting her emotions control her and now she’s going after someone above her league. Or so you thought. She did hold her own against you, to say that you got lucky would be an understatement. “Anything else you might have on her. Most of my contacts couldn’t even give me a name.”

“Same boat as you ma chérie. You know how most villains work. They don’t pay attention to newcomers until they become a problem. So very little information on them. On the one hand that’s the advantage of being new.”

And a stupid habit if they ask you. It is precisely for that reason that many heroes get the drop on the top villains many times. They let those heroes grow and become threats. And then they are whining why they lost. “Well she’s a newcomer who held her own against my boss. And Lady Argent.” You emphasize that last part, as if trying to get a reaction out of the doctor.

You do, she raises her eyes to meet yours. “At the same time?” you nod. “Huh, well there you have it ma chérie. It wouldn’t be long now before people start looking her way. Especially if she begins stirring up trouble while searching for your boss.”

“Even so, there’s still the trouble of fighting her. That taser gave her a good shock but according to my boss, Argent was the one who finished it. So any advice?”

“Ice,” she says without even raising her face.

“Ice?” you echo, not exactly sure what she means.

“True, ice is bad for everyone, but polymorphs in particular have a nasty problem with it.”

You stare at her with curiosity. Once she notices she begins explaining.

“A polymorph’s molecules are always in flux, in movement, barely kept together. That is what gives them their elasticity. But freeze them over and the polymorphs are left effectively powerless. Or well it should, in theory.”

“In theory,” you repeat with a frown.

“Polymorphs are rare ma chérie, is not like I can get one to test it out. Dead specimens alone cost a fortune. Enough that I could build your boss twenty identical suits and still have money to spare with how much they cost.”

You sigh. This right here is why you hate fighting polymorphs. Any and all lack of information puts you at a severe disadvantage against them and no matter how hard you try they can get the drop on you without you realizing it. They can be the absolute worst fighters in the world and still kick your ass.

“Can you build an ice gun too that will fit on the suit?” you finally say. You are going to need all the weaponry you can get. Mortum raises her face to meet yours again, one eyebrow raised.

“I could. But that will cost a bit more on top of the taser. And it may take more than a couple of hours.”

“Like I said, money’s not a problem. Do it”

“You are sure your boss will like this?” she asks with slight worry. She has probably worked with other villains that didn’t liked having their weapons tampered with. But you are not as possessive. A suit is just a suit, a tool for your plans, nothing more, there’s no need for sentimental value.

“I know they will.” The certainty of your answer scares even you.

“Understood ma chérie. Just give me a week. Maybe two.” she says with a neutral tone, not giving any emotion away. You nod and bid your goodbyes but just as you get ready to step out Mortum speaks. “I don’t make it a habit of getting into others personal lives ma chérie, but if you don’t mind me asking, why are you so loyal to them?”

“Because they saved my life,” the answer comes out before you can even think. What the hell was that? It’s a good excuse, technically not a lie, and it serves as a very good reason. Still it came out even more genuine than you expected.

“How so?”

“Without them I would have rotten in a hospital bed. Probably would be dead by now. They gave me a second chance. I owe them that.”

You see a flicker of sympathy in her eyes, brief as it is, but you see it staring at your puppet, at you. “Understandable. But remember, loyalty like that can be used, manipulated.”

Jane, you, nods. “I’ll keep that in mind.” You turn around and head outside, you got far more things to work on. There’s still one more place for you to go. Or rather there’s one more place for Jeremy to go.

Later that afternoon.

You arrive at the Rangers HQ, staring at it as if it was a dangerous cave with a hungry monster waiting for you inside. Only you no longer feel that way. Four months ago, when Ortega brought you here to help with Argent, that’s what you felt, like you were walking into that cave and that monster would devour you. But you managed to step out of there alive, unharmed. Now… now you can stroll into it without a care in the world. It’s so much fun, you beat them, destroyed them. And yet here you are, in their stronghold, with them none the wiser. It takes all of your effort to not smile as you enter. The receptionist recognizes you almost immediately and sends you on your way to the visitor’s area as she passes on the message to Ortega. So many times have you come here that the layout of the first floor and the walk to the visitor’s area has been imprinted in your mind. You wonder if you could eventually get access to other areas but Chen will probably shoot that down faster than Ortega’s nagging.

As you arrive Ortega’s already there, looking as smug as ever and holding a cup next to the fridge. “You know sooner or later people will start getting ideas again,” she says teasing already.

“Oh so you mean that the media would dare to make something out of nothing?” you say with fake shock.

“And like that you ruined the joke.”

“What makes you think that wasn’t my goal?” She punches you slightly on the shoulder before gesturing you to sit.

“So what brought you out of your cave?” she says, still in teasing mode.

“Not much. Just came to check how things were going here. Your numbers aren’t doing very well.”

Ortega chuckles and says “I know. PR has been cranky lately, screaming in our ears.”

“Let me guess,” you clear your throat and continue. “’We need you out there. The public needs to see their heroes together. Stop wasting time and get out there’” you continue imitating them as Ortega breaks into laughter. You were present during several of their arguments back in your Sidestep days. The days where you would just sit with Anathema and crack jokes with one another as the PR guy ranted on and on.

“Pretty much. Though you forgot the part where they fumble their words while Angie glares at them.”

“Speaking of Argent. Did you heard?” you say. Ortega’s groan is all you need to know she has; and she’s not exactly happy.

“I had a chat with her about it.”

“And?” you ask.

“You can’t see it but I have a bruise on my stomach.”

You clear your throats as if imagining how much that hurts. Not that you have to, you know how that feels. “It can’t be so bad can it? I mean it wouldn’t be the first time the Rangers have a minor conflict with other heroes.”

“You are right, but we don’t team up with bad guys when it happens.” There’s a certain venom in that last statement, as if she wants to say more but stops short of just that.

“How’s the girl doing?”

“Red Doll? Fine. Pissed off and almost picked another fight with Angie but fine.”

“Red Doll?” you say with fake obliviousness. You want to know what they know.

“Yeah, she’s new. We have a file on her as just in case we want to recruit her. Though to be honest I doubt she would accept an invitation any time soon.”

“You said it. Argent laid the smack down on her.” Ortega looks at you puzzled. Shit, you slipped up there. “From what I’ve heard,” you add hoping to deflect.

Ortega nods and says "Poor girl lost her boyfriend last week. All because of that cabrón.”

You look at her for a moment. She wants to talk about him, about Mastermind, about you.

“What’s the deal with that guy. Mastermind I mean.”

“Well at first I thought they were just a newcomer, looking to make a name for themselves. I honestly thought they got lucky the first time. But the more I run the museum through my head,” she stops wondering.

“What?” you ask with genuine curiosity. You want to know what she thinks, what she may or may not have on you.

“This guy’s a pro. They aren’t just any newcomer; they know what they are doing. They have experience.” She stares at you as if seeking some sort of confirmation. If you had to guess, this is not her theory, but Steel’s. You should have expected that from him, you were always equally smart, a fact you are not particularly keen on admitting, but if you believe in their position you could figure out this much you should have expected Steel to do the same.

“What you are saying is that they are, what? A villain who changed their shtick?”

“Or maybe a hero too,” Ortega says. You stare at her in the eyes, you see no accusatory glance, no suspicion, nothing. Just honest wonder.

You lean back on the chair, pretending to consider the possibility.

“Honestly it wouldn’t be the first time,” she says and takes a sip. She’s right, many heroes have turned to the dark side before, many of them turning out to be more dangerous than the normal villains. Even some Rangers have. This was before your time but according to Anathema they had a member named Karma who had the power of probability manipulation. She turned bad and nearly killed all of the rangers before she disappeared without a trace. You always wondered if she was taken by the prime directive but never bothered to investigate. It’s none of your problem. Still you can see the mourning on Ortega. If she was talking about someone, it was probably Karma.

“Anyway, enough about that. How are you doing? You look much better,” she says suddenly, looking at you with a smile.

“What are you talking about?”

“Well, you don’t look as grumpy as you used to.”

“What are you talking about, I’m always grumpy,” you say with fake annoyance and your arms crossed. After a moment you both laugh a bit. It’s so easy, to just lay back and talk and laugh with her, like it used to be. Just you, Ortega, Anathema, and even Steel, just sitting there after a job well done.

Your thoughts are interrupted as you feel someone pass by you and towards the fridge. Argent. You are starting to wonder if there’s some god up there screwing with you. Maybe one day you’ll go take a piss and suddenly hear Argent outside your apartment with how much you bump into her. She seems to not even notice you, and if she does doesn’t seem to care. Both of you stare at her as she opens the fridge and searches. “Hungry?” Ortega asks smiling.

“Dying.” Argent answers with the most pissed off tone you have ever heard her speak in. Then again she seems to always be pissed off. She closes the fridge and walks right pass you with at least, ten snacks.

“You know stress eating is not good for you,” you say jokingly, but she seems to ignore you. You look back at Ortega and say “is she ever going to stop treating me like I’m not here.”

“Eh, give her a couple weeks. She’ll come around.”

“I’ve been coming here for four months.”

“How long did it take you to finally stop ignoring me when we first met?”

You do not answer. Ortega nagged you for months until you finally gave up. You cross your arms again and gruff making Ortega chuckle.

“Where’s Herald by the way? Last time I was here he could not leave my side,” you ask, less out of curiosity and more to change the subject.

“Handling the media. Giving a press conference. You know the usual.”

“It has to do with the fight?” Ortega nods. Of course it does.

“How’s he dealing with the whole thing?” you ask.

“Surviving,” is all she says about it. “You know, I was thinking maybe you could-“

“No.” you cut her off. She really does not know when to give up. This is the eight time she tries to ask you to come back.

In any event you finish the conversation here. You have what you came for. The rangers suspect that Mastermind is a veteran and Red Doll is apparently good enough the Rangers have been considering her for recruitment. Neither of those two things are good news. So you give your goodbyes and go. Time to plan out your next move.

Night.

Sitting on your bed you think about the events two nights ago. There are many things to consider. Argent was clearly after you, and so is Red Doll. Then there’s the Army of Mastermind; someone tipped them off your crew was coming and although they got out of there alive, it doesn’t change the fact that whoever did it may try it again. And you have to be prepared for that. But how do you fight a mystery foe? Suddenly one of your phones rings, the Mastermind phone. Only Pelayo and Rosie have that number and they are ordered to only use it in emergencies.

“Yes,” you say, your voice changed on the other end of the line to sound like your monotone heart shaking voice that comes out of your mask.

“Hello there Mastermind.” That’s neither Rosie nor Pelayo.

“Who is this?” you ask in your most commanding tone.

“Already forgot about me huh? I don’t blame you, last we saw each other, Alpha was reeducated, and you escaped.”

Your eyes open wide open. Alpha, you haven’t heard that name in well over a decade, not since, since… your days in the Farm. She was your leader, the leader of your unit, another re-gene. And, like Ortega, you cared about her.

“Who. Is. This?” You say with barely restrained rage. This person knows, they know who, what you are. They know about your past, enough that they know about Alpha.

“Let’s just say I’m a fan of yours.

“What type of fan?”

“The type that likes to see how you handle yourself.”

“You tipped off the Army,” you say. You don’t know how but you did. If they know this much, they must have known about your plans too.

“And I also tipped the polymorph too. And the Ranger. And you.”

“What?” you ask. What do they mean? They tipped you off too?

“I’m the one that passed on the information onto your contacts. The one who gave you the location of the Army.”

“Why?”

“I’ll let you know. Eventually. For now, just turn on the TV.”

You do as they say not much choice on the matter. Immediately you see an entire street filled with people, not just any people, gang members. The Army of Mastermind.

“How do you like your Army o great Mastermind?” the voice says with mockery.

“I don’t want it. They are loud and disorganized.”

“Then why don’t you organize them? I’m pretty sure they’ll follow you.”

“Too risky. Too many mouths to keep quiet.”

“Aaah, so a control freak is what you are. Good to know. Alright Beta-“

You cut it off “Don’t call me that,”

“Mastermind, All I want is to see you shine.”

“Somehow I doubt that.”

“Trust issues? I don’t blame you.”

You clench your fist, squeeze the phone and ask once again “Who. Are. You.?”

“I’m the voice of your consciousness,” and the line goes dead. You lay down the phone and stare at the TV. Riot, the Army is rioting, burning cars everywhere, police overwhelmed. This will bring unwanted attention. But that’s not what has you sweating, that’s not what has your heart beating a million miles a second, is the fact that they knew, they know about your past, who you were, who you really are. Beta…

Unit Beta 010, led by unit Alpha 203 of the infiltration and extraction unit, also known as the Cuckoos. Your unit, the unit you broke apart, that you destroyed, by making one stupid mistake: caring.

#fallen hero: rebirth #fallen hero: retribution #mc #oc #julia ortega #mortum #puppet #spoilers #lots of planning and dialoge.

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scaip · 5 years

Text

Yui Komori's portrayal of the Haunted Heroine trope: loneliness

This is a random flow of thoughts of mine, concerning Yui's past relationships with others. Most of what I say will come from Haunted Dark Bridal, there is also information from More Blood and Dark Fate.

In Shu's route from Dark Fate, we get to learn from Yui more information about her past: before being sold sent to the vampires as a sacrificial bride, Shu is told about her lack of relatives and how Yui only lived with her adoptive dad.

If I recall correctly, it is also in Shu's route from HDB when Yui is given a new cellphone, with the Sakamaki siblings' numbers on it. Shu tells her not to contact people from her past.

Let's recall some information about Yui:

- Cordelia is an unreliable narrator, but we learn she was a baby with a heart disease, and her parents were told she died. It could have happened when she was a stillborn, or until she was around two years old. No one remembers stuff from their toddler years.

If there is enough organization, then it wouldn't be hard to handpick a still born baby or a toddler from a mortuary's hospital. If not just taking it and having the hospital staff informing the parents of the "dead" of their kid. We know about the deep extension the demon's network in the world of humans, and let's remember Karl Heinz is a politician under the name of Tougo Sakamaki there.

- In the period of time until Yui reaches no more than 2 years, Richter gives her (or rather, has a doctor do it) Cordelia's First Blood heart.

- Then, she is given to Seiji for adoption, and she is raised by him until she reaches 17 and is sent to the vampires.

We know Yui was raised in a rather isolate way. She surely went to school, but didn't seem forge close very friendships with people.

-In Kou's manga adaptation from his More Blood route, Yui doesn't know he is a known idol... Or much of the japanese idol culture. She tells him she is not into that stuff.

There is also the fact Seiji Komori is... A catholic priest with a daughter. Let's that sink it. Catholic clergy has to practice celibacy. The DL world either doesn't follow that rule or the writers from Rejet chosed to portray the Christianity is Catholic™ trope, mixing Orthodox, Protestant and Anglican practices in there.

If I recall well, Yui was also told her "mother" died by Seiji. She also didn't have other relatives. So, as I said before, she was raised in a rather isolated manner:

-No extended family from Seiji's side.

-The lack of close friendships. In HDB, we don't see her recalling past friendships.

-She did knew clergy members:

In HDB, when she makes a phone call to a priest in order to ask for help and is told by the person on the other side to not call them again and that she is on her own know (I admire Yui for not falling into desperation).

Yui follows the Haunted Heroine trope, that, according to The Bible TV Tropes:

A heroine haunted equally by her own past and the uncanny events around her.

This character continually pops up in films involving ghosts or supernatural characters. She moves into Haunted Headquarters without any idea of what's in store for her. She seems attractive, capable and altogether normal until...the strange noises from the attic keep waking her up. Or that Creepy Housekeeperkeeps making cryptic comments. Or her kid starts going on about some Imaginary Friend who might not be so imaginary after all. The Haunted Heroine typically comes equipped with a kid (or younger sibling) that is inevitably the first one to notice the supernatural goings-on, possibly because kids are supposed to have more imagination. It won't take long however, before the woman realizes she's being haunted.

So, let's check:

- Haunted by her own past: subverted. Well, more likely, haunted by the past of other people. Yui is blessed with suck™: if what Cordelia said is true, then having a First Blood's heart transplanted into her saved Yui's life, but also pushed her towards a life of loneliness (and fear and abuse, later).

If Yui was taken from a hospital, then there was research going on. People just cannot randomly receive someone's else organs, even if those are non-humans. Rejet won't necessarily elaborate on that since the focus of the story is what happens to Yui once she starts living with the vampires.

- Uncanny events around her: ABSOLUTELY

- A work of supernatural characters: Yep. Vampires first, First Bloods next and a vampire-ghoul later.

- Moving into the Haunted Headquarters without an idea of what's in store for her: ABSOLUTELY. She is sent to live with "a friend" of her paternal figure because he suddenly has to leave the country. And things get terribly bad from there.

- Seeming attractive, normal and all together: DiaLovers is this mix between an otome and survival horror genre, as I read here, in tumblr.com. Yui Komori is your average pretty teenage girl who is sent somewhere else.

- A kid who keeps her company: nah. No younger siblings or cousins.

- Slowly building the fact something creepy is going on: zig-zagged.

Yui is outright told she will become roommates with a bunch of vampire half-brothers. But WHY is something Yui will get to learn as the player reads all routes.

First, what is a Sacrificial Bride. Then, there's the fact our protagonist not only has the heart of the mother of three of her roommates but that the spirit of said woman is slowly getting stronger to take over Yui's body, with different degrees of successfulness through all the routes.

Yui is alone with a bunch of guys who can torture and murder her. The theme of loneliness is very present in DL. No family, no friends to rely on.

When Yui interacts with her schoolmates, she doesn't appear to form bonds with them. Obviously, the wouldn't believe her. Or she would get punished.

Yui tries to escape but always fails. Has six dudes and an adult (Richter) after her steps, their familiars probably on the watch too.

No one to tell her what she feels, what is going on. Her previous relationships with others are not fully elaborated, but they don't seem very deep. Yui tells Shuu she was aware of her loneliness before and, let me say this: outside of the boy she pursues on a route and the actions of the brothers as secondary characters in other routes, we don't see Yui enjoying a female companion.

There are exceptions for Cordelia and Christa in Dark Fate but that is another game and won't elaborate here.

The thing is that loneliness remains. And such a thing is deeply ingrained in the Haunted Heroine Trope. Uncanny events, psychological damage, fear, and isolationism. Creepy supernatural stuff happening to the main character and the fact it is not easy (or just impossible) to escape the situation.

Yui gets to elope with her guy in some routes and dedicates herself entirely to them, but the fact they are in a setting with dark themes doesn't ease the loneliness they could feel. It is okay to have someone to love, but friendships outside the couple relationship are something healthy.

While she is in love, Yui knows things are not perfect. She does what she can in a situation with the tools she can reach. Obviously, after falling in love she willingly chooses to be with her guy, but she also has to deal with the issues he carries.

#i wont elaborate into the whole reset deux-ex-macchina thing of heinz #diabolik lovers #fandom stuff #yui komori #dl meta #i hope tumblr shows it on the tags

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romana73 · 5 years

Text

WHY REY CAN’T BE A SKYWALKER: LOGIC REASONING

Post written by ME. The animated gifs shown, however, AREN’T MINE and DON’T BELONG TO ME IN ANY WAY. Sorry for mistakes, but English isn’t my first language

Some recent leaks have brought to fore theory that Rey is a hidden Skywalker, probably Luke’s secret daughter, but none of SW characters knows that. Pablo Hidalgo, author and executive creator, member of Lucasfilm Story Group., Who works for Lucasfilm ine Star Wars franchise, answered on his Twitter profile to question about if Rey was a Skywalker, writing:

“NOTHING in The Force Awakens suggests that and THERE’S NOT MUCH ELSE to go no”

https://romana73.tumblr.com/post/182205643541/qua-una-seconda-risposta-data-su-twitter-da-pablo

I tried to make logical reasoning. To be a Skywalker, Rey should be daughter of Anakin/Vader or Luke:

A) Hypothesis Anakin/Vader scrap now ‘cause Rey has been abandoned as a young girl...how many years have she had? 10? Considering Rey is younger than Kylo of 10 years and Kylo was born in peacetime, when Vader and Emperor were dead and Galattic Empire destroyed, Rey was born for sure AFTER Kylo. Time gap is TOO LARGE ‘cause Rey is daughter of Vader. Again, Hidalgo informs, in another recent tweet, Rey ALREADY WAS ON JAKKU when Kylo destroyed Uncle Luke's Jedi temple:

https://romana73.tumblr.com/post/182205356416/pacificwanderer-heres-a-great-article-in-which

Let's admit Darth Vader (NOT Anakin) had a woman, a lover and made her pregnant by manipulating Midi-chlorian, it seems HIGHLY improbable, after losing Padmé's children (remember Vader believed Padmé was pregnant when she dead, until Obi - Wan didn’t pull Luke out of the magic cylinder), Vader would have let this son escape. In my opinion, Vader would have ensured his child was born safe and would have taken him or her with him immediately, if only to have an Sith heir. This would make fact, for two films, Vader attempted to persuade Luke to give into Dark Side, allying with him. In the event, Vader could count on a third child, faced with Luke's repeated refuses, he would simply concentrate on new offspring. Anyway, if Vader had a secret child, this would be older than Kylo. So, Rey can’t be Vader’s daughter:

B) Rey could be a daughter of Luke Skywarker? I say NO and I will explain reason. In Star Wars expanded universe (comics and books), after defeating Empire, Luke marries Mara Jade, a former Hand of Palpatine and has a son by her, called BEN SKYWALKER. In 2012, entire Star Wars Expanded Universe was declared NON CANON, including Mara Jade, her story, her marriage to Luke and Ben Skywalker:

https://film.avclub.com/whatever-happened-to-mara-jade-12-unfortunate-excisio-1798286502

So we are back to a Luke single and Jedi convinced. We admit, however, Luke had a woman, a love, from whom he had a daughter. All this would have happened in relative PEACETIME. Yes, there would have been, perhaps, Snoke’s threat, but if Supreme Leader had tried to bribe Luke's daughter or son, do you really think Luke wouldn’t have noticed and he wouldn’t fight Snoke? We make point: Luke has closed himself to Force, only AFTER his failure with Ben and AFTER his nephew had destroyed Jedi Temple. Before that night, Luke was a well-rounded Jedi. He would have had NO LOGICAL REASON to ABANDON a son or daughter. Wanting to disappear as he did after Jedi’s Temple’s destruction by Kylo, I don’t think Luke would ever allow his offspring to be left to alone, in a lost place like Jakku. I believe he would try to put him/her safe as Yoda and Obi Wan did with him and Leia. A second possibility, it would be someone, for whatever reason, kidnapped Luke's daughter, abandoning her on Jakku. Possible, but Luke would look for his offspring sifting to last star in Galaxy. Recall, first Kylo Ren scene in "Star Wars. Episode VII. The Force Awakens" movie is when he lands on JAKKU, where he kills Lor San Tekka and captures Poe. If Kylo, First Order and Resistance know Jakku, same applies to Luke. In any case, if Luke had a son or daughter, his affair with Kylo would have lost strength and importance. Certainly, though wounded, Luke wouldn’t have disappeared, abandoning his offspring, unless his son/daughter had chosen to spontaneously ally with Kylo or had been killed by Kylo night he destroyed temple. In event Luke's son chose to follow Kylo, he would no longer be other star of Star Wars, but this role would have been Luke's offspring. Last possibility is Rey is result of Luke's “stand alone night”, of which Luke never knew anything. This seems to me if not impossible, unlikely. Luke has a character too serious to be a butterfly in love and, then, even dont knowing about a daughter’s existence, I think something, through Force, Luke would have perceived. Let us assume, by hypothesis, Luke didn’t know he had a son or a daughter. In "Star Wars. Episode VII. The Force Awakens" movie, Kylo captures and interrogates Rey, shamelessly reading her mind, looking OPENLY for Luke. In "Star Wars. Episode VIII. The Last Jedi", Ben/Kylo and Rey are joined by a connection, they join hands and have visions ... in all this, I believe Kylo, who is using his skills at 120%, would have noticed at least he would have felt if Rey had Skywalker blood! Finally, safest argument leads me to think Rey ISN’T A SKYWALKER and she ISN’T Luke’s CHILDREN is: Rey is 10 YEARS younger than Kylo. Looking at how small Rey was in "Star Wars. Episode VII. The Force Awakens" vision, at time Kylo was still Ben Solo and had to be an adolescent:

C) All this also EXCLUDES Rey is Obi-Wan Kenobi’s daughteri: only woman ever loved by Obi - Wan when he was a young Padwan is Duchess Santine, a 3D OFFICIAL cartoon character "Star Wars: The Clone Wars", to which he RENOUNCED to follow the Jedi rules to LETTER, CELIBATE rule too. Later, Obi - Wan hid on Tatooine to watch over Luke ... can you explain where Obi - Wan would have found the time to have a daughter? Look, it's little Rey in "Star Wars. Episode VII. The Force Awakens" vision, Obi - Wan should have had it when he was already on Tatooine but, in "Star Wars. Episode IV. A new hope", we are informed Obi - Wan lives under Ben Kenobi false name, like a semi hermit in desert ...

#anakin skywalker #ben solo #darth vader #kylo ren #leia organa #luke skywalker #obi wan kenobi #rey #reylo #star wars

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