#what if I told you I technically have an OC that I'm already thinking about putting in for this dynamic
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roses-r-rosie3 · 1 year ago
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HIIII!! I was wondering if you could do like a smut Miguel O’Hara x male reader where they recently had like an agreement abt Miles and how the reader thinks Miles should save he’s dad instead of being killed and Miguel disagrees with him so days later reader kinda ignores him (Yk silent treatment???) and then Miguel is so fed up it turns to smut??
All Eyes On Me
Miguel O’Hara x M!Reader
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A/n: again, credits to whoever drew the spider-man oc!
Warnings: jealousy, smut, a bit of angst, swearing, rough sex
Quote: “Ah, now you wanna talk, you only wanna talk when you’re getting fucked like a slut? Huh? Should I start fucking you every time you ignore me?”
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You and Miguel were having a movie date night in your living room to calm Miguel down from all that happened that day. But you also needed to confront Miguel on how he treated Miles.
“You know Miguel, you were a bit harsh on Miles earlier” you said as you paused the tv.
“How?! The kid could’ve destroyed the multiverse!” Miguel yelled.
“Calm down Miguel, I was just saying, his uncle already died, most of us only had one of our loved ones die, don’t you think that’s already enough for him to handle, he’s only 15 after all” you said.
“It happened to all of us! Even you y/n! You’re parents, Uncle Ben, and Aunt May died and you’re not acting like he did!” Miguel said angrily.
You went silent as you started to look down at the floor, thinking about the painful memory that you desperately tried to forget about. Miguel began profusely apologizing as soon as he realized what he just said.
"Y/n, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to!" Miguel pleaded.
You ignored Miguel's apologies as you got up from the couch and walked into your shared bedroom and slammed it shut.
"Shit, why did I say that" Miguel cursed as turned off the tv and ran into their room.
As Miguel walked inside the bedroom, you were originally facing the door, but turned the other way so that his back was facing Miguel.
"Y/n, listen, I'm sorry, I really didn't mean it" Miguel said as he laid next to you.
You stayed silent. Miguel started to slowly try and hug you, but you immediately swatted his hand away. Miguel sighed as he looked up at the ceiling and slowly fell asleep, thinking that you would forget about it the next day.
The next day
When Miguel woke up, he expected you to be right next to him, but saw that you weren't there. You would usually kiss Miguel awake or you would still be asleep, which meant that you were still mad at him.
Miguel got out of their bed and started to walk down the hallway. As Miguel was about to go use the restroom, out of the corner of his eye, he saw you walking towards the door with your spider suit on.
"Can I at least get a goodbye kiss before you go?" Miguel said.
The eyes on your spider costume started to glare daggers at Miguel before you ignored Miguel and swung away. Miguel sighed again as he went back into the restroom. Surely you wouldn't be able to keep this act on for long, after all, you both worked at the same place and Miguel was technically your boss.
Skip to when Miguel arrives at the society
As Miguel walked through the doors, he saw you talking to Jess. You immediately saw Miguel walking up to you and Jess and rolled your eyes and told Jess goodbye before you swung away. When Miguel finally made his way to Jess, you were gone.
"Someone’s in the dog house, what did you do this time?" Jess laughed.
"I'm not talking about it here" Miguel grumbled.
Jess just chuckled as Miguel swung away to find you.
When Miguel finally found you, you were talking To Gwen, Hobie, and Pavitr. And as soon as you saw him you rolled your eyes once again as you were about to swing away, but before you could do so, Miguel stopped you.
"You know you can't ignore me right! I'm technically your boss and I could fire you right now!" Miguel said.
You just rolled your eyes under your mask as you flipped Miguel off before swinging away once again.
Gwen, Hobbie, and Pavitr who watched the whole thing go down, were about to laugh but Miguel immediately gave them a death glare before they could do so.
Miguel sighed as he went inside of his office and just sat down.
Reader's pov
You were still pissed about what Miguel said last night. So you came up with an idea to get under Miguel's skin. But little would you know, that plan would backfire on you.
"Hey Ben!" you said.
...
"Are you sure Miguel won't kill me?" Ben said nervously.
"I'll make sure of it" you said.
"And you promise to pay me?"
"Yes Ben, don't worry"
"okay then" Ben said uneasily.
Miguel's pov
Miguel got out of his office and decided that he was going to give you that same silent treatment. But when he got out of his office, he saw you flirting with Ben, rubbing his arms, giggling and laughing at him. Miguel lost it and he pushed Ben out of the way as he took your arms.
“Lyla lock the doors and go to sleep, me and y/n are going to have a talk” Miguel growled as he took you into his office.
Miguel looked at you with a slight red glow in his eyes. And you could tell Miguel was mad, which is exactly what you wanted, but what happened next is not what you expected. Miguel started to kiss you aggressively. You tried desperately to get out of the kiss but Miguel wouldn't let you.
When you finally pulled apart, you still refused to look at Miguel in the eyes. That made Miguel even more angry than he already was. Miguel decided to bite down on your neck, leaving bruising and possibly even breaking some skin. You tried to hold back a moan, not wanting to give into Miguel's tactics.
"Still not gonna speak huh? I'll make sure your screaming my name by the end of this" Miguel whispered in your ear as he ripped your suit with ease.
Miguel quickly shoved you chest first against the wall, immediately dropping to his knees behind you, grabbing your cheeks and pulling them apart. You arched your back, trying your best not to moan as Miguel in your hole before leaning in to drag his tongue over it.
You felt your cock hardening as Miguel slobbered all over your hole. His spit coating your hole as he stuck his tongue in and out of it. Miguel frowned when he saw that you were still refusing to make any noise.
“You still wanna be brat? I’ll show you” Miguel growled as he plunged his fingers into your hole, which caused you to yelp.
Miguel smirked at your reaction so he was quick to add more fingers inside of you and stretch you open, moving faster than he usually would. You couldn’t contain your moans anymore, his fingers alone made you a mess.
When you were as stretched as he could get you, Miguel quickly got to his feet and his suit quickly disintegrated into nothing, leaving him completely nude. He grabbed onto your shoulder as he pushed you further into the wall as he used his other hand to lead his cock into your hole.
You whined as you felt him press inside of you. He slowly but surely started to push himself deeper inside of you. When he was fully inside of you, he started thrusting in an animalistic style. Your jaw dropped as you screamed his name as he consistently rammed into your prostate. Miguel quickly shoved his fingers into your mouth.
“Ah, ah, ah, I thought you didn’t want to speak to me? What happened to that? Huh? Where’s that fighting spirit mi amor?” Miguel growled as he quickened his pace.
Tears started to form in your eyes as the sounds of his hips meeting your ass filled the room. You started to suck on Miguel’s finger’s in hope of not making any noise, but all that did was just boost Miguel’s ego.
“Look at you. Ngh~ trying to suck on my fingers to try and stay quiet? You like the taste of my fingers that much, huh?” Miguel smirked.
The spit that gathered in your mouth and spilled past, down his hand and wrist and dripping down your chin. You were struggling to swallow all the pool of drool in your mouth as Miguel kept fucking you, his pace not faltering one bit as he pushed you further into the wall.
“Who do you think you are huh? You think just because you’re mad at me you can go talk to other guys? Can Ben fuck you this good? Answer me! Can Ben fuck you like this?” Miguel scowled.
“N-no” you tried to say with Miguel’s fingers still in your mouth.
“Ah, now you wanna talk, you only wanna talk when you’re getting fucked like a slut? Huh? Should I start fucking you every time you ignore me?” Miguel said as he fucked deeper into you.
You couldn't focus as tears gathered in your eyes, moving your hand to grip at Miguel’s hair. Tugging on it whenever Miguel would hit your sweet spot. You let out a choked off scream as his cock rammed deeper inside of you. You could feel his smirk against your neck.
Your cock gave a twitch as you felt your orgasm hurdling closer, each ram against your prostate forcing it closer and closer. Miguel quickly took his fingers out of your mouth and gripped onto your cock, not letting you cum just yet.
“I know you want to cum baby, but I’m gonna need you to say who you belong to” Miguel grinned.
“I-I-fuck-I belong to you” you whimpered.
“Do you belong to anyone else?”
“No”
“Do you belong to Ben?”
“No”
“Who do you belong to?”
“YOU” You cried out.
“That’s my good boy” Miguel smirked against your ears as he began to jerk you off.
Your head fell back on Miguel shoulder’s as you let out a loud moan, releasing your thick white spluttered out of you coating both the wall in front of you and Miguel’s hands. Miguel was not too far behind you and he growled as he shoved himself as deep as possible inside of you as possible as he came, making sure to get as much of his cum as he could inside you, wanting to paint you with as much of his his cum as possible.
Miguel lazily thrust his hips a few times, drawing out the pleasure as much as possible before he came to a stop. He leant up to kiss your lips carefully, who was still blissed out and unresponsive. He pulled out with a wet noise, and quickly turned his suit back on. When you finally got back to your senses, Miguel was helping clean both you and the wall in front of you.
“You’re gonna be paying for my new suit since you’re the one who ripped it” you sighed.
“As you wish sir” Miguel smiled, acting as if he didn’t annihilate the shit out of your organs.
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giantchasm · 5 months ago
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“What is it that the child has to teach? The child naively believes that everything should be fair and everyone should be honest, that only good should prevail, that everyone should have what they want and there should be no pain or sadness The child believes the world should be perfect and is outraged to discover it is not. And the child is right.”
WOO! After a little over a month and 60+ hours of drawing, it's finally finished. The Peony animatic I promised you has, at long last, arrived.
It took a lot of work, but I'm super happy with how it came out! And, tbh, I'm already planning more animatics I want to do in the future.
I think the majority of you are already acquainted with Peony, but just in case you aren't, here's a quick rundown of her story, or at least what's covered in the video:
Peony has always known her family experienced quite a bit of strife before her birth, but she doesn’t quite understand the full extent of it until getting caught up in a horrible accident. After nearly losing her life, the young magician develops an affinity for Soul magic— more specifically a connection with the spirit plane, and thanks to that, she’s able to meet two very special people. Her deceased granddad and her father’s long-gone ex-best friend are far from perfect people, but Peony quickly warms up to them anyways. She can see they were dealt an unfair hand in life, and that the tragedies they were involved with weren’t necessarily their fault. As she sees it, they deserve a second chance. So that’s exactly what she’s going to give them! Peony resolves to find a way to bring her dead loved ones back to life… developing her powers more and more along the way and providing her family some much needed closure. But is something like resurrection really possible? It seems Peony may be flying too close to the sun. A certain fluttering fiend is keeping an eye on her, telling her it won’t allow her to disrupt the natural order of things, and that one can’t undo what has already been done. But Peony? She doesn’t know how to listen. The young girl will stop at nothing until she saves her two guardian angels and sets her family right.
...She's a stubborn little goober, that's for sure.
I love her, though, I really do, and I hope you love her too. This video was a real passion project, and I'm super happy with how it came out. I'm glad I could get it finished just before the round 3 polls of the OC Tourney start.
Remember, everyone! Peony for president. Girl's already ready to throw hands with a god.
@kirbyoctournament
Some of my favorite frames will be under the cut with annotations/interesting details pointed out.
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I really enjoyed the crayon drawing aspect of this video. The doodles were super fun to do and added a lot of character to it!
One may have noticed that the way Peony drew her mother's side of the family changed, though, as she told their story... and that's not just to represent them getting older! The way she drew their eyes and other stuff changed because during the later half she depicts them with their cybernetics, whereas during the beginning of their tale, she doesn't. Pretty cool stuff.
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Technically, in Peony's story, she can't really touch/physically interact with the ghosts... at least not at the point in the timeline this part of the animatic takes place during. All the same, though, I decided to fudge it just a little for more interesting character interactions.
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This frame depicts Peony's near death experience, LOL. Don't worry about it... she's fine in the end. In general, this segment of the animatic displays her story a little more chronologically, showing how she developed her powers, learned who the ghosts were, and got better and better at using aforementioned powers.
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Shortly after Peony's near-death-experience, Morpho Knight tried to reap Sectonia and Haltmann for interfering with the living world and helping save her life. However, Peony, even not knowing who they were at the time, stood up for them- offering up her life, instead, and Morpho Knight, impressed by the display of bravery, allowed it to slide for now.
...Stars, it's going soft, isn't it? Stupid Kirby
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Peony doing some detective work! I really like the framing of this drawing. Here you can see Taranza and Joronia when they were younger alongside Haltmann and Susie pre-cybernetics, like I mentioned earlier.
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This bit is meant to be Peony finally confronting the ghosts (or- well, more specifically her granddad) about knowing who they are. She points out that she and him HAVE to be related. Look! They share the same hair fwoof!
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There's a very distinct scene I have in my mind for the first time Peony is ever able to physically interact with the ghosts. She's making flower crowns and jokingly tries to put one on Sectonia's head, only for it to work. Needless to say, they're both shocked, then delighted.
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These reunions make me feel things. Admittedly stuff is still a little complicated between Susie and her father, but ultimately she is glad to see him... and as for the spiders? I think they missed each other more than they could possibly put into words. They're so, so happy.
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This is one of my favorite sets of frames. It took FOREVER to do all of the little doodles, but it turned out looking awesome, as did the ripping effect! See if you can spot all of the different family traumas she's depicted.
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I like to think eventually Peony acquires some precious heirlooms. Sectonia hands down the matching scarf she had with Taranza but discarded when she went mad. Haltmann, meanwhile, no longer has his pocket watch, but when Peony tries to surprise him with a new one as a gift, only to realize he can't really hold onto it, he tells her to take care of it for him 'until he can.' This is something she does with pride.
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Originally, I wasn't quite sure what I wanted to do with these sets of frames. I mean... I knew I wanted to have Peony walking past her family thriving, but I didn't know how I wanted to orient the group. I figured they'd be best in sets of two, but wasn't sure how to sort them out.
If I were to draw her parents with their dead loved ones, I feared I'd sort of be insinuating their bond with each other wasn't as important now that they had those dead loved ones back, and that isn't true at all. But if I were to draw the living characters and dead characters together... well, that wouldn't really represent how Peony changed the family, now would it?
Ultimately, I decided to draw Susie hanging out with Sectonia and Taranza talking with Haltmann. I thought it'd be a nice way to represent the group as a whole have become a ragtag sort of family. Everyone loves everyone here.
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This is one of my favorite frames. I simply think it's so cute. Peony is so, so beloved, and she loves her weird little family so much, too.
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I adore these final three frames. Throughout the animatic, the crayon drawings are used to represent her family's tumultuous past, but finally, Peony depicts a more positive moment, quite literally slapping it over a sad one. It's a symbol of her determination to rewrite their— rewrite her— story, no matter what it takes.
Little does she know, even if she ultimately can't bring Sectonia and Haltmann back from the dead, she's already given both them and her parents a happier ending. They're all together, at least, and that's what matters most.
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thevicariousviscount · 9 months ago
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Like, like, it extends more than just a hating or not hating kinda thing eventually, too. Maybe it started a long time ago in their first years of high school. Maybe it escalated to something bigger then but it started all the way back in middle school, too. Whatever they have runs deep and now they only can see each other at the ends of each of their tunnels.
But of course. People like them don't use their words. They use their fists, they use their feet, they answer tit for tat, blood for flesh to bones. And in the depths of their minds maybe they really just crave something even more carnal. But they'll never say it. Not to each other's faces.
I wonder what tactics the both of them would use. The dynamics in school would definitely change a great deal especially if it started that long ago. Then there's imagining the other NPCs, too. Some may want to stay out of it completely and go along on their merry ways out of all that gang business. Some may join one side or the other.
If Whitney acts the same way they do in-game, I don't imagine that any of the canon school named NPCs would care to join his side. Depends on PC. There's just so much here. augh.
Idkkkk not many people know me yet but I wanna hear some thoughts!!!!
Idkkk imagine a PC that straight out of the gate has opposed Whitney even before the game officially started. It's likely the orphanage is already at high rebellion. The PC has made a rival gang to Whitney's and they CONSTANTLY butt heads. School life is chaotic and AH! the leaders both share MATH together?
For some reason, they're both well-behaved enough even with so much delinquency that they don't straight up get expelled. PC grumbling that they have to make sure Bailey doesn't evict or kill their ass and Whitney whatever reasons they actually have, too.
Outside of school? Both of them are likely to have the police on the lookout for the troublemakers. Maybe they're about to square off with their weapons of choice before the lookouts shout out that the coppers are coming and they all scatter and somehow they're both left alone in a tight, dark alley.
This relationship between the two just gives more opportunity to have gang leader to leader tension. Enemies to secret FWBs to secret lovers bc there's just so much push and shove that they both have to relent on SOME THINGS. Kissing each other but biting down or headbutting so at least one of you will end up losing blood.
Does anyone else share my vision...
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karahalloway · 8 months ago
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(Less Than) Noble Intentions: Chapter 19 - Field Day
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Fandom: TRR
Pairing: Drake Walker x F!OC (Harper Gale)
Series Summary: The social season may be over, but Harper Gale’s problems are just beginning. With everyone at court a potential suspect, can she and Drake survive the engagement tour and get to the bottom of the plot against her and clear her name? An AU take of TRR2 featuring my OTP - Harper & Drake.
Masterlist: (Less Than) Noble Intentions
Chapter Summary: It's off to the bridal boutique, but Harper and Olivia have a secondary agenda...
Word Count: 6,200
Rating/Warnings: M (royal bitchiness, possible emotional abuse, kidnapping, threats of murder)
Chapter theme song:
A/N: So, I have tried to keep everything as realistic and accurate as possible in terms of the locations that are touched on in this chapter. The only thing that is made up is the antique store. As usual, translations for the French and Italian are at the end.
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Chapter 19 - Field Day
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The five-minute drive to the bridal boutique is every bit as excruciatingly awkward as can be expected.
"What part of we are already running late is so difficult to comprehend?" derides Madeleine before the limo door even shuts. "When I tell you to hurry, I expect you to do exactly that!"
"I'm sorry, Lady Madeleine," stammers Penelope tearfully. "The heel of my shoe became caught on—"
"Save it!" the Countess of Fydelia snaps. "If you cannot do something as simple as totter down a corridor without breaking your neck, then frankly, I do not see how you are supposed to be of use to me."
Penelope's face turns whiter than a sheet. "I—"
"As lest you forget, I took you on as a lady-in-waiting as a favour to your family, given the historically close personal relationship between our fathers," Madeleine reminds her with a steely edge to her voice. "But that does not mean that I cannot send you packing just as easily. And if you do not get your act together, then that is exactly what will happen. Am I clear!"
"Yes," Penelope whimpers, lowering her gaze.
"What was that?" demands Madeleine imperiously.
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"And the same goes for the rest of you," adds Madeleine, casting the haughty gleam of her gaze over the limo. "One misstep — proverbial or otherwise — and you are gone. Not just from my employ, but from court as well."
Shifting my gaze over to Hana, I see that she is just as perturbed as I am about this borderline psychotic power-trip.
Talk about being a queen bitch...
Olivia scoffs from her seat in the corner. "How about you try making a threat you can actually carry out..."
Madeleine bristles. "As Queen I will have the authority to—"
"Do exactly what Christian permits you to do," Olivia interjects flatly, examining her nails. "As lest you forget, you will only ever be a queen consort — not queen regnant."
The Countess of Fydelia's eyes narrow. "That is but a technicality."
"I still wouldn't overplay my hand," Olivia cautions with a smile. "Wouldn't want to get caught out on a technicality now, would you?"
Madeleine glares down the length of the limo like a viscous viper.
"Didn't think so," smirks the Duchess of Lythikos as the driver pulls the vehicle to a stop...
...and the paps immediately descend on us like a swarm of black flies.
"What the—?" I blurt, catching the flash of the cameras through the blacked-out windows. "When did they get here?"
"Five minutes ago," replies Madeleine tartly, slotting a pair of shades on.
My jaw drops. "You... told them where we were going?"
"Of course," she affirms as the Royal Guard who had been riding shotgun manages to squeeze his way through the human press to open the door. "Royal patronage elevates the esteem and profile of any institution. It is only right that the press should be invited to cover the visit."
"Like that's the only reason..." I mutter as Madeleine steps out of the limo and the roar of the crowd becomes deafening.
"Contessa!" several people shout. "Contessa Maddalena! Quaggiù, per favore!"
"It's horse shite, by the way," Olivia advises as she slides past me. "The only thing she is looking to promote is herself."
"Well, she definitely seems to be succeeding..." I admit, watching the Guards struggle to hold the photographers back as Madeleine sashays her way towards the doors of the boutique.
Olivia scoffs. "It's an act of desperation. Nothing more. She knows she is on thin footing with Christian... and the public."
"Great..." I groan, pulling Drake's blue aviators from my clutch as I, too, exit the limo.
Rather than being an unfortunate one-off, it seems like yesterday's altercation at the Apple Harvest Festival was actually the opening salvo in a concerted campaign of media brinksmanship that Madeleine is determined to win.... at my expense.
Yet, I'm just not sure I have it in me to play her contrived publicity game. The paps have already up-ended my life more completely than I would've ever thought possible, so the last thing I want to do is pander to their voracious appetite for scandal.
"Duchessa Harper! Duchessa Harper!" the photographers shout as I step out onto the sidewalk. "You made it to Italy! What do you think of the city so far?"
"You did not travel with the King and future Queen! Were you forced to make alternative arrangements because of your argument?"
"Will you attend the opera tonight?"
"When was the last time you spoke to your family? Is it true you cut all ties with them?"
Gritting my teeth, I force myself to keep my head down and my feet moving forward as the invasive questions zing over my head like bullets. Camera bulbs flash in my face as the photographers press in, trying to get that front page close-up...
...and that's when I spot him.
My heart skips an uncomfortable beat as recognition hits me like a punch in the chest.
Oh, my God, the photographer from Applewood!
He's standing in the second row, regarding me almost casually, like a tourist at a zoo, faded red baseball cap slung backwards over his head, just as in the picture Ana de Luca had saved on the flash drive.
Our eyes meet and I stumble to a stop, unable to tear my gaze away, my morbid curiosity overpowering my senses even as the paps close in around me...
...but then I feel the warmth of a hand on my back and the sound of a familiar voice brings me back to earth.
"Nous vous tienons, Demoiselle," Allard assures me, appearing at my side to shield me from the press invasion.
Glancing up, I see that Schweitzer has taken up position in front of me, using his body like a blocker to force a path through the crush.
Curling into the safety offered by my Guard's no-nonsense attitude, I let them whisk me into the boutique.
"Thank you..." I say sincerely as we pass through the doorway into the foyer.
Allard relinquishes his hold on me with a nod. "Certainement. Vous allez bien?"
"Yeah..." I reply, heart pounding as I try to recollect my bearings. "I just—"
"Oh, my gosh!" gasps Hana, stumbling into the boutique behind us. "That was horrible!"
"C'est le bordel!" agrees Kiara as she and Penelope manage to squeeze themselves through the press before the Guards shut the door. "Qu'est-ce qu'elle croyait?"
"She wasn't," Olivia replies flatly, shooting an accusatory glance over her shoulder at Madeleine, who is already being given a queen's welcome by the boutique's owner.
A tense silence descends as we all process this assessment.
"I... I suppose we should go through," Hana suggests eventually.
"Oui," Kiara affirms with a huff, smoothing the front of her dress. "Sa Majesté expects our assistance."
Penelope glances uncertainly towards the fuss being made over Madeleine. "I don't think she's expecting mine..."
"Don't be silly!" Kiara admonishes, looping her arm through her friend's to tug her forward. "She just had a petite éclat. Every bride gets nervous and she is under a lot of pressure to maintain constant perfection. But that is why we need to help her, non?"
Penelope looks like she's about to disagree, before finally acquiescing with a sigh. "I just miss Merlin and Morgana..."
"J'sais..." consoles Kiara, patting her reassuringly on the back of the hand. "Hopefully once the tour is finished, Madeleine will allow you to send for them."
"I doubt it..." Penelope mutters meekly as they join Madeleine in the store proper. "She said she hates yappy little dogs. You don't suppose they have anything here with poodles on them, do you?"
"I don't think this boutique specialises in that type of lingerie..."
"Oh..."
"I'm sure they have some pretty floral designs, though!" Hana offers encouragingly. "Italian lace is known around the world for its intricate rebrodè detailing."
"Yes, because that's what men care about on the wedding night..." Olivia mutters dryly, turning towards me. "You coming, or what?"
"Huh?" I ask, snapping my head up. "Umm... Yeah. Sorry."
"You better be," she snips disdainfully as she starts down the foyer as well. "I refuse to be the only sane participant in this clown show..."
I glance warily back towards the front of the boutique, where the paps were still battling each other, trying to snap a shot of us through the tastefully curated window displays.
"What?" Olivia objects after a beat. "No snide comment? No wry clap-back? You're not conveniently coming down with a sudden fever, are you?"
"I... I saw him," I admit, tearing my gaze away from the feeding frenzy outside.
Olivia grabs my wrist to yank me to a stop. "Saw who?"
"The photographer," I say tightly, pulling my arms around myself in a bid to stop myself from shivering, despite the record-breaking temperatures outside. "From Applewood."
"Dion Guillard..." clarifies Olivia, staring at me intently. "Are you sure?"
"Yes," I nod.
Olivia purses her lips. "He could be here on his own volition, or because someone invited him. Either way, we should make use of this opportunity."
"How?"
"By making him an offer he can't refuse," she replies slyly, pulling her phone out.
My eyes widen. "You mean right now? But Madeleine—"
"Has enough sycophants coddling her already," she counters flippantly as she quickly types up a text. "We only have one chance to do this. Do you want the truth, or not?"
I swallow down the lump in my throat. "I do."
"Good," she nods, slotting her phone away again. "You don't mind if I borrow your hunks, do you?"
"Umm..."
"I'll take that as a 'yes'," she responds, clicking her fingers authoritatively at Allard and Schweitzer. "Meet me in the back in fifteen minutes."
Before I have a chance to respond, Olivia has already spun on her heel and is striding towards the rear of the store, my two Guards in tow.
"'Kay..." I mutter under my breath.
I have no idea what Olivia's plan is... much less how she thinks to arrange a clandestine meeting with the photographer under Madeleine's nose while there's an entire army of paps parked outside watching our every move.
But I've learned during the course of the social season that the Scarlet Duchess is as enterprising as she is resourceful, having pulled a number of successful ploys in a bid to advance herself in the competition. And Drake seems to trust her implicitly, otherwise, he wouldn't have asked her to keep an eye on me while he's off in Dubai.
So, it looks like I'm just going to have to trust her, too.
Taking a deep breath, I move towards the other end of the shop floor, pretending to peruse the various items on offer while I wait for the allotted time to tick down.
Luckily, Madeleine is busy loudly shooting down each and every lingerie option that is presented to her by both the boutique staff and her increasingly frazzled ladies-in-waiting, so nobody really notices when I announce a pretend visit to the restroom.
Slipping back out into the foyer, I move as casually as possible towards the back of the store, knowing that the paps are still watching me like hawks through the windows.
Rounding the corner, I allow myself to speed up a bit, casting my gaze left and right, looking for Olivia...
...when I'm suddenly yanked into a dimly-lit storeroom stacked with cardboard boxes and plastic-wrapped veils and dresses.
"Hey! What the—?" I protest as the door is shut promptly behind me.
"You're late," Olivia informs me dryly, clicking the lone light bulb on above us.
"Sorry, I had t—"
I reel back in horror as my eyes land on the bound and gagged form of Dion Guillard perched on top of a box of lingerie.
"Oh, my God!" I gasp. "When the heck did this turn into a kidnapping?"
"Ten minutes ago," she replies breezily.
I drop my head in my hands. "I am going to jail... I am literally going to jail..."
"Oh, ye of little faith..." Olivia admonishes, stepping over to the photographer.
He shrinks instantly back from her.
My brows shoot skywards. "Jesus Christ... What did you do to him?"
"Nothing," she shrugs. "Yet..."
A chill runs down my spine. Apparently, Olivia's reputation is more than well deserved...
"I presume you know who we are?" she asks Dion levelly, coming to a stop in front of him.
The man nods tightly, brows bunched together beneath the line of his baseball cap.
"And your current circumstances leave you under no illusions as to the lengths we're willing to go to obtain — by force, or otherwise — the clear and unvarnished truth?"
His gaze slips to meet mine for a second before sliding back to Olivia's to give her the barest of nods.
"Good," she smiles, reaching towards him. "Then this will go that much faster."
In one quick motion, she yanks the scrunched-up handkerchief from the photographer's mouth, making him wheeze.
"Sa mère la pute de—"
"Who are you working for?" Olivia demands, folding her arms.
Dion spits on the floor next to her feet. "I'm a freelancer. I work for—"
"We know who you are," Olivia interjects with a wave of her hand. "You're a lowlife slug who's willing to do anything to make a name for himself. You demonstrated as much when you sold compromising photos of my friend here to the press. The question is, who hired you?"
Dion scoffs. "Nobody hired me. I work for myself! That is what I've been trying to—!"
"Liar," Olivia accuses. "We know you didn't just stumble upon this by yourself. Who's your client?"
"Nom de dieu..." he disparages under his breath. "I told you already, I—"
Olivia is suddenly up in his face, knife pressed to his throat. "And I didn't like your answer."
Dion jerks back instinctively. "Your petite friend is correct... You are going to jail..."
"They'll have to find your body first," she tells him silkily. "What little will be left of it, anyway... Because no one here is going to the police. And I'm sure that your so-called friends out the front will secretly be glad for your unexplained loss. The freelance photography business is oh-so cutthroat, after all..."
"Tu es une salle grace..." he snarls through clenched teeth.
Olivia presses the knife tighter. "Then you should know that it's not in your interest to test what's left of my patience..."
Dion laughs bitterly. "À quoi ça rime? You say already that you will just—"
"What if we paid you?" I interject, stepping forward.
Olivia's head snaps angrily around. "Harper, stay out of—!"
"Paid me?" the photographer cuts in, eyes swirling to meet mine with interest.
"To give us the information we're after... voluntarily," I clarify, in a bid to avoid the impending bloodshed. "And to sell us the photos from Applewood."
Dion frowns. "I already sold the pictures to the papers..."
"Not all of them," I correct, hoping against hope that my gut instinct is correct and I haven't just torpedoed Olivia's interrogation for nothing. "You only sold the ones you were told to sell — the ones that fit your client's narrative."
Dion seems to assess me in a new light. "You come prepared... Fine. I'll do as you ask... for five million."
"Ducats?" asks Olivia.
"Euros."
I very narrowly catch my jaw from falling to the floor at the sound of the obscene price tag.
"You've been paid once already," counters Olivia. "The highest we can go is one million."
"Four," insists Dion, somehow managing to find the balls to negotiate even with a knife pressed to his throat. "There are a lot of pictures."
"Which no one else is willing to buy, so two is our best and final offer."
"Three," declares Dion. "And I'll forget this conversation ever happened."
Olivia purses her lips for a moment, before whipping the knife away with a flourish. "Fine. Start talking."
Dion lets out a low exhale. "I received a call some days before the Jamboree. The person had a tip on one of the Prince's suitors, and said it would make big news if it got out. Naturally, I was interested."
"Who was this person?" I ask.
"I don't have a name," he replies. "The tip was anonymous, and the call came from a hidden number."
"Was it a man or a woman?" Olivia queries.
"A man."
Olivia and I exchange a glance. Tariq or Godfrey.
"How did you get into Applewood?" I ask, turning back to Dion.
"A security pass was delivered to my apartment. No return address," he adds before either of us can ask.
"And that didn't seem suspicious?" I press.
"Demoiselle," he scoffs. "I am a paparazzo. I am not going to... How you Américans say? Count the teeth of a dog?"
"Look a gift horse in the mouth..." I correct dryly.
"Once on the estate, I took some pictures of the Jamboree — in the event, you know... nothing came of the tip — but then I received a message on my phone that the suitor in question was on her way back to her room with her paramour, andI should make myself ready."
"How did you know which room to go to?" I cut in.
"There was a blueprint of the manor included in the same envelope that provided me my security pass," Dion explains. "It was your room that was marked."
His words hit me like a kick to the guts.
It's been clear for a while that my run-in with Tariq has been anything but chance. But to learn the malicious extent of the planning that had gone into setting it up makes me want to actually puke.
Who was sick enough to even think up something so twisted?
"What then?" asks Olivia, diverting Dion's attention from my momentary muteness.
He shrugs. "I took the photos, and left."
"How?" I croak in disbelief. "How could you just stand there while—?"
"I am a journalist," he shrugs apathetically. "My business is to be impartial..."
"You watched me get assaulted," I hiss through trembling lips. "There is nothing impartial about that!"
He shrugs again. "Affairs are messy. Maybe you should choose your lovers more carefully."
I feel my fists clench at my sides as I take a step forward. "He is not—"
Olivia's hand pulls me back. "How did you deliver the photos?"
"There was no delivery," Dion counters with the same level of nonchalance that he's exhibited since he started talking. "I selected the best pictures and put them out to offer to the newspapers. The Sun offered the most for them, so I sold to them the exclusive rights to publish."
"That's it?" queries Olivia. "No one else was given copies?"
Dion scoffs. "Absolutement pas! Selling copies to anyone else would violate the license agreement with the most influential tabloid newspaper in the country! Why would I put myself out of business? I am not an idiot..."
"You didn't send any samples to the person who tipped you off?" I press, having finally managed to regain my composure somewhat.
"Non," he insists. "I said before — he was not a client. I have no obligation for him. And even if I did, I have no way to contact him because—"
"—the conversations were anonymous," I finish wearily.
Apart from lending credence to our suspicions that Godfrey may have had a hand in the set-up, this conversation has confirmed literally nothing.
The people involved in the plot have been too careful in covering up their tracks.
Which means that all our hopes now rest with Tariq... and Drake's ability to find him.
Dion nods. "C'est correct. And I told you everything you asked. We still have a deal, yes?"
"On the condition that you hand over all the remaining photographs — including any digital and backup copies — and disappear off to a godforsaken island somewhere," Olivia clarifies.
Dion nods eagerly. "Naturellement. I always desired early retirement."
"Good," she approves, cutting the bonds from his wrists with a cold smile. "Otherwise I will personally ensure that you don't live to spend a single Euro of your newly acquired millions."
The flash of the wicked-looking blade so close to his groin causes the photographer to blanch involuntarily. "Je le jure."
Olivia flashes him a cold smile. "We'll be in touch..."
"You're just letting him go?" I hiss into Olivia's ear as Dion pushes himself up.
"Unless you would prefer to dump him in the Tiber?"
I reel back. "What! No! I just—"
"Your instinct was right," she advises softly, as Dion gathers his bag and Allard escorts him back out. "He is an opportunistic shark. He just had to be made to believe that he was fleecing us."
My eyes widen. "So, you played bad cop deliberately."
"As you said, this is my area of expertise," she smirks. "And I knew you would not be able to keep your sentimentality at the door."
"Umm, thanks... I think..." I mutter. "But where are we supposed to get three million Euros from? We may both be aristos, but neither of us is Jeff Bezos..."
"The Palace has a designated slush fund set aside for these sorts of expenditures," Olivia assures me breezily, slotting her knife away. "Since you are now a member of the royal family, we'll just send the bill to Jonathan."
I slant her a wry look. "I'm pretty sure that's not what either he or Christian had in mind when they decided to clean up my image..."
"Oh, please!" she admonishes, stepping back out into the corridor as well. "As recently as last year, Constantine was authorising expenditures of five to ten million Euros to stop pictures of Leo shagging B-list actresses on top of various vehicles making it onto the front pages. Three million Euros is trump change for the Rys."
"If you say so," I concede, my mind still reeling from astronomical sums of money that had been so casually bandied about. "Let's just hope Dion doesn't screw us over..."
"He won't," she assures me. "Nobody is stupid enough to cross a Nevrakis."
"The people who blackmailed you did..." I remind her cautiously.
Olivia's mouth tightens as we reach the end of the corridor. "Which was their first mistake. And one that they will pay for dearly."
"You never actually told me what they threatened you with on the night of the Coronation Ball..."
Olivia glances at me sharply. "The less you know the better."
"But—"
"It is for your own protection," she insists. "You haven't played this game long enough to know how to handle something so... explosive."
My eyes widen. "What? More explosive than—?"
Olivia clamps her hand over my mouth. "What did I tell you on the plane?"
"Sorry..." I mumble through her fingers.
She withdraws her hand. "If — on the very slim chance — I require assistance, I'll ask for it. In the meantime, you should rejoin the bridal parade."
"Why? Where are you going?" I ask as Olivia moves towards the back loading doors.
"None of your business," she ripostes, disappearing outside.
"Bye to you, too..." I snip as the door slams closed in her wake.
Olivia may now be on my side, but she is still as caustic as ever.
Turning back towards the main part of the boutique. I barely make it four steps before Madeleine's shrieks of outrage — and the sound of breaking glass — echo down the hallway.
"How many times do I have to tell you, no thongs! They are ribald and tasteless!"
"Yeah, no..." I mutter under my breath as I promptly spin on my heel to head back towards the rear of the store.
I don't care what Kiara may have said earlier; I have no interest in spending the rest of the morning being trapped in a bridal boutique, being screamed at by Madeleine. I have much better things to do with my time... and sanity, especially given that I'm still trying to mentally and emotionally process what the photographer had said. And after everything else that's happened in the past twenty-four hours, a small break would definitely go a long way in diffusing my pent-up stress.
Admittedly, a part of me feels bad for leaving Hana behind to suffer the full brunt of Madeleine's tirade, but trying to pull her away as well would only jeopardise my chances of making a successful getaway. I'll just have to think of some other way to make it up to her.
Not wanting her to get into any unwarranted trouble on my account, I decide to pull out my phone to send her a quick text letting her know that I'm not feeling well, and that I'll hopefully see her at the opera in the evening.
Slotting my phone back into my clutch, I push the back doors of the boutique open with a decisive shove, and step out into the sunshine.
Letting my eyes adjust to the brightness outside, I find myself in a small courtyard. On a whim, I turn back towards my Guards.
"Which way to the Trevi Fountain?" I ask, pulling my sunglasses back down over my face.
Allard and Schweitzer trade glances, clearly uneasy with this request.
"Demoiselle, that is not a prudent—"
"—way to get lost in the crowd?" I counter. "I can't think of a better one. If I don't advertise myself, no one will know I'm even there. Especially while the paps are tied up on the other side of the building."
My Guards don't seem convinced. "Commandant Walker left specific instructions to—"
"I'm not planning on disappearing on you," I assure them. "I just want to make a quick detour to grab some pastries, and check out the fountain. So, which way is it?"
Perhaps seeing that I'm not going to be swayed by any cautionary counter-argument, Schweitzer gives Allard a one-shouldered shrug of acquiescence.
Allard pulls a face before finally resigning himself as well. "Par ici," he says, indicating the far side of the courtyard.
"Thanks," I chirp with a smile, setting out across the cobblestones...
...and promptly get the heel of my stiletto pumps stuck in a crack between the stones.
"Eugh," I grumble, as I manage to wrench myself free after a brief battle. "I really didn't think this through..."
"Would Demoiselle require a taxi?" asks Schweitzer as he helps steady me from behind.
"I was hoping to walk..." I admit sheepishly.
"Via Borgognona is nearby," Allard suggests. "It is a well-known shopping street, though quieter than the more famous Via Condotti. Demoiselle might find more... comfortable footwear there."
"Not to mention some more appropriate clothes in general," I gripe, already feeling the tight fabric of my pencil dress start to stick to me. "How far away is it?"
"Just around the corner."
I flash him a bright smile. "Perfect!"
With Allard leading the way, and Schweitzer holding my hand, we manage to cross the courtyard without further incident, and sneak past the paps still thronging the front of the bridal boutique without getting spotted.
Crossing the pedestrianised thoroughfare, my Guards usher me down a narrower street that is lined on either side by cream-coloured buildings casting some welcome shade in the midday heat.
We pass a smattering of tourists and locals, but luckily everyone seems to be too absorbed in their phones or personal conversations to pay any specific attention to me.
And — more importantly — as Allard promised, the street is composed entirely of fashionable-looking independent boutiques.
"Let's try this one," I suggest, indicating the arched entryway of a store with an Italian name that I do not recognise, but which nevertheless seems to have several options for sandals on offer. And — given the scalding nature of the weather — an open-toe option is definitely appealing right now!
Stepping into the air-conditioned entranceway, I am immediately greeted by an immaculately made up woman with a severe ponytail, who starts questioning me in rapid-fire Italian.
"Umm..."
Luckily, I am saved from the embarrassment of trying to cobble together some kind of inappropriate response with the very limited — and wholly unhelpful — Italian that Bertrand had managed to teach me on the plane by Allard, who steps deftly up to my side.
"Lei è alla ricerca di alcune nuove scarpe."
"Che tipo de scarpe?"
"Sandals," I say, having understood the gist of the question. "No heel."
"Prego," the assistant says, flicking her hand towards some minimalist shelving.
"Gracia," I acknowledge with a smile.
Moving over to the indicated section, I quickly assess the options...
...and nearly die when I lay eyes on the price tags.
"Almost a thousand Euros...?" I gripe under my breath "For a few scraps of leather...?"
But then my eyes land on a pair bejewelled, gladiator-style sandals.
Given my limited window of opportunity to sneak in some sight-seeing before people start to question my absence, I don't have the luxury of being able to hunt for a bargain. And if I'm going to end up forking out this much money on a pair of shoes, I'm at least going to spend it on something that I like the look of.
And these sandals definitely fit the bill.
Decision made, I pull out my phone to quickly find out how my normal US shoe size converts to the vastly different European sizing, and turn back to the patiently waiting assistant.
"Size 36, please."
With a nod, she disappears 'round the back.
While she's gone, I take the opportunity to look up the location of the little pastry shop that the President had mentioned.
Since I'm heading towards the Trevi Fountain anyway, and Madeleine had pulled us out of this morning's meeting before the refreshments could be served, I had been serious when I told my Guards of my intent to tackle two birds with one stone. Especially since it's nearly lunchtime, and chances are I won't otherwise see food until the opera this evening.
The assistant reappears with my selection, and after a quick try-on, I give her a nod to ring up the extortionate purchase, being excessively grateful that I still have cash left in my US account, given that I don't actually have access to my new Cordonian accounts yet.
Stepping back out onto the street, I change out my shoes, slotting my pumps away into the high-end bag that I've been given, and dumping the shoebox in a nearby trash can.
My toes flex gratefully in their newfound freedom as I cross the street to the clothing boutique, wondering how much a top and pair of jean shorts is going to set me back...
In the end, however, I am pleasantly surprised to emerge back onto the street in a simple, white wrap-dress, a straw Panama hat, and a matching straw bucket bag in which I've stowed my old dress and shoes, all for under two hundred Euros, which means I was able to make recourse to the money Drake had given me, and still have plenty of cash left over for other potential emergencies.
"Thanks for the suggestion," I tell Allard sincerely. "It has definitely saved me from melting into the pavement!"
"De rien, Demoiselle," he acknowledges with a smile. "Are you ready to continue?"
"Lead the way, Monsieur!" I tell him with a grin.
Taking up poll position with a scoff — with Schweitzer bringing up the rear — Allard takes us left at the next intersection to zig-zag us down various side streets, presumably in a bid to avoid both the ferocity of the midday sun, and the chances of me being recognised on the busier avenues.
But, the back route pays off, and within ten minutes, I find myself standing on the edge of the crowded plaza that serves as the gateway to the romantic monument.
"Wow..." I breathe, taking it all in. "It sure is busy!"
Allard and Schweitzer exchange a tense look, no doubt worried about the prospect of being able to keep tabs on me in the press.
"I'll be fine," I assure them. "Just a quick peek and then we can get moving."
Neither of them look convinced, but they don't try to dissuade me as I plunge into the crowd.
Skirting around wedding parties, tour groups, and other miscellaneous sightseers, I manage to work my way to the front of the throng, and my mouth parts with a gasp at the sight spread out before me.
The four-storey monument rises up from the base of the fountain, framing the dynamically positioned statues from under whose feet the water gushes into the aquamarine pool.
It's like a Renaissance painting brought to life.
But, while I'm glad to have made the trip out here to see it in person, I can't help but feel my chest tighten morosely as I gaze up at the beauty of the world-famous landmark.
I didn't necessarily realise it at the time, but part of the reason why I enjoyed my outing in the Cordonian capital so much was because I had Drake to share the adventure with. And it was the same in Avignon — his wry quips and local knowledge had definitely brought the whole experience to life, making me see the city through different eyes than I probably would have had I been by myself... like I am now.
Eugh... I miss him...
Reaching for the ties of my bag on impulse, I pull the fastenings apart just enough to plunge my hand inside. Finding my purse, I snap it open and extract a Euro from the coin pouch.
Squeezing my fingers 'round the warmth of the metal, I clench my eyes shut with a heartfelt wish as I turn back towards the fountain...
...before sending the coin flipping through the air to land in the water before me with a soft plop.
Blinking my eyes open, I am somewhat disappointed to find myself still standing solo by the railing, and Drake has not magically appeared before me like the hot Italian guy did in The Lizzy McGuire Movie.
"Worth a shot..." I console myself somewhat dejectedly as I reach back into my bag to extract my phone so I could snap a couple of pictures to send to my mom.
Mission accomplished, I turn away from the fountain to make my way back to the edge of the square, Allard and Schweitzer falling into step behind me as I scan the various store-fronts clustered around the fountain, searching for the bakery with the pistachio croissants.
My eyes suddenly land on something in one of the window displays...
...and without really thinking about it, I let my feet carry me inside.
The little brass bell above the door jingles as I step into the cramped confines of what appears to be a shop selling a motley collection of antiques and touristy knick-knacks. A wizened old man sporting glasses and a thick head of white hair looks up at the sound of my arrival.
"Buon pomeriggio, signorina," he greets. "Posso aiutarla a cercare?"
"Umm... sì," I say hesitantly. "Hai avo... in the window?" I point at the item that had caught my eye with an embarrassed flush.
The man's face cracks into a grin. "Ah, certamente!"
Stepping out from behind the counter, he ambles his way over to the window display, to pull back the protective glass. Reaching in, he lifts up the silver chain and holds it out to me.
I run the tip of my finger across the edge of the pendant with a smile. "It's perfect."
"For you?" he asks, lifting the chain up to my neck indicatively.
"No," I laugh. "It's a present... Por mi amore?"
His eyes light up. "Ah, bellissimo! Lo avvolgerò in su per voi!"
"Gracia," I say as he scuttles excitedly back behind the counter in search of a box.
Pulling one out with a conspiratorial flourish, he sets about packaging up the piece as if he were swaddling a precious child for a hazardous journey, even managing to dig out a slightly dusty ribbon to tie on top.
"Cento euro," he declares, presenting the completed ensemble to me.
Pulling my wallet out, I extract my card. "Visa?"
"Sì! Ovviamente!" he proclaims, slapping a brand new Square card machine onto the counter, that was starkly at odds with the otherwise Ollivander-esque décor of the place.
Slotting my card into the reader, I complete the purchase, and am just about to reach for the box to stow it away in my bag when I feel a sudden presence behind me.
"This is becoming a bad habit with you..."
I freeze at the sound of the familiar voice.
No way...
The story continues in Chapter 20 - Steal Me Away
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A/N: As per usual, translations below:
Nous vous tienons, Demoiselle - We got you, m'lady
At the bridal boutique:
Contessa! Contessa Maddalena! Quaggiù, per favore! - Countess! Countess! Over here, please!
Certainement. Vous allez bien? - Certainly. Are you alright?
C'est le bordel! Qu'est-ce qu'elle croyait?" - What mess! What was she thinking?
Sa mère la pute de— - Your mother is a whore of a—
Nom de dieu - Oh, my God!
Tu es une salle grace - You're a real bitch
Absolutement pas! - Absolutely not!
Je le jure - I swear
Lei è alla ricerca di alcune nuove scarpe - She is looking for some new shoes.
Out and About
Par ici - This way
Che tipo de scarpe? - What kind of shoes?
Prego - Please
Gracia - Thanks
De rien, Demoiselle - No problem, m'lady
Buon pomeriggio, signorina. Posso aiutarla a cercare? - Good afternoon, miss. Can I help you find anything?
Ah, bellissimo! Lo avvolgerò in su per voi! - Ah, lovely! I will wrap it up for you!
Por mi amore?* - For my love?
*This is a completely butchered attempt at Italian. The grammatically correct way to say it would be 'È per il mio amore'. However, Harper is improvising, so she's not going to get things completely correct 😇
Cento euro - One hundred Euros
Sì! Ovviamente! - Yes! Of course!
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thehollowwriter · 3 months ago
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I HAVE TO JOIN IN THE READER X OC EVENT FOR FINN‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️ I HAVE TO
i have been tweaking over the little guy lately and it is BADDDD uuh this is my first time ever doing this so i may be all over the place though😞😞SORRY
i'd like to request a platonic (not brave enough to ask for romantic LMAO) scenario in which finn and gender neutral reader hang out in the botanical garden and a butterfly lands on him‼️ he's identifying and rambling about it while reader admires how pretty he is because that's fr what i'd do💯💯
Hi hi! Coming right up, thanks for dropping in! I'm so glad you love him so much 🥰
Warnings: None Word count: 486
(Art for banner by @authoruio)
(Pls reblog and leave a comment ♥️)
Glasswing
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The botanical gardens were a peaceful place. The more rambunctious students rarely bothered going down there, and most others only went down there to fetch ingredients for potions, experiments, or personal projects. Few saw it as a place of leisure, especially when they had busy schedules. It was so far from the main building, was it it really worth it?
Well, to you, it was worth it. Just watching Finn quietly observe the lush wildlife with such a peaceful expression made it it worth it. Rarely did Finn break from his usual blank slate expression around others, and you were honoured he was so much softer around you.
Though you technically couldn't spend your lunchtime in the botanical garden, the two of you had snuck some snacks in and sat together on one of the little bridges.
Finn didn't say much, but he never needed to. A mutual silence reigned between the two of you, accompanied only by the sound of running water, rustling plants, and, outside the glass walls, birds singing sweet tunes.
Then, a butterfly passed by, fluttering in little circles around your heads, looking for a treat.
Finn's attention snapped to it instantly, and his eyes lit up in excitement and awe.
Slowly, carefully, he raised his hand. You weren't too sure what he wanted to do, as even he seemed surprised when the little insect landed on one of his curled fingers.
Finn tentatively brought his hand a little closer to his face.
"It's twsting me." He said quietly. "Butterflies taste with their feet, you know. That's where most of their taste buds are."
You were pretty sure he'd told you that several times already, but you didn't say anything. You couldn't. He just looked too happy for you to burst his bubble.
"What is it?" You asked, and he hummed as he inspected the butterfly more closely.
"Greta Morgana Oto," He said after a moment. "A glasswing butterfly. They're very rare and very unique. Their wings are completely translucent. Very few land creatures are able to be translucent."
Finns lips pulled into a smile off, showing off rows of tiny, razor-sharp, and pearly white teeth. His eyes, amethyst purple, shone like gems and sparkled with utter delight and joy.
"They lay their eggs on nightshade plants, did you know that? Any human will drop dead from those, and yet they lay their young on them. Any human would think, 'That's strange', but butterflies don't care what humans think."
Finn laughed, a delightful sound. He moved his head back, his hair ruffled slightly, and already loose curls moved to frame his chubby, freckled face.
"Haha, I almost want to take this one home with me, but I doubt I can." He raised the butterfly up a bit for you to see. "Isn't it beautiful?"
"Yeah," you said, though you were only half focused on the little creature. "Very beautiful..."
-End
...........................................
A/N: I really hope you enjoyed! I had fun writing this ^^
Tagging: @distant-velleity @br3adtoasty @rainesol @theleechyskrunkly @jovieinramshackle
@galaxies-and-gore @cyanide-latte @cynthinesia @officialdaydreamer00 @krenenbaker
@offorestsongs @kitwasnothere @elenauaurs @boopshoops @inotonline
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the-cult-of-riley · 9 months ago
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Sleeping With Ghosts (Act One: Chapter Eleven)
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Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Female OC
[[Masterlist]]
A/N: This one is a short one. Technically, it should have gone at the end of the last chapter, but it felt right putting it on its own. Don’t worry, I’ll be posting the next chapter right after so you won't be waiting long lmao
I'm so excited already to get to Act Two where all the pain and angst is, where Simon is Ghost and I can torture you all with tears o3o Alas, I have more of Act One to get through lololol
Placebo - Come Home
Stuck between the do or die, I feel emaciated Hard to breathe I try and try, I'll get asphyxiated Swinging from the tallest height, with nothing left to hold on to
Every sky is blue, but not for me and you
Come home, come home, come home, come home
Glass of petrol vodka gin, it feels like breathing ethane Throw yourself from skin to skin, and still it doesn't dull the pain Vanish like a lipstick trace, it always blows me away
Every cloud is grey, with dreams of yesterday
Come home, come home, come home, come home Come home, come home, come home, come home
Always goes against the grain, and I can try and deny it Give a monkey half a brain, and still he's bound to fry it Now the happening scene is dead, I used to want to be there too
Every sky is blue, but not for me and you
Come home, come home, come home, come home Come home, come home, come home, come home
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Charlotte lay there stiffly, the sun starting to shine through the window. She hadn't slept at all, she hadn't been able to knowing Simon was being shipped off so soon. She felt a lot of things she couldn't quite make sense of, but the biggest one was sadness. Six months was a long time to not be able to see him and she was so used to his presence in her life that she knew she was going to struggle to be on her own again. 
It was stupid really, she’d known from the beginning he was military and yet she hadn't even thought about him being deployed, it hadn't even crossed her mind. The emotion weighed her down and clogged up her throat and she knew she was being dramatic and stupid. Or maybe she wasn't since they were official now. She was right to worry about her boyfriend being in a warzone, right? She wouldn't know, her last boyfriend had been a lazy twat. 
Simon was fast asleep, soft and deep steady breaths brushing the back of her neck while his arm lay heavily over her waist. He had to be up at 5am, had to leave by 6. Looking at the clock, she saw it was 4.30 and her heart dropped at what little time they had left. She was sure her eyes were red due to lack of sleep and maybe, just maybe, she'd silently cried a few times in the night. There were a lot of disjointed thoughts in her brain over this situation but it always came back to the same one. What if he doesn't make it home? 
The idea made her heart go cold and she clenched her jaw tightly as she willed her tears to stay away. She knew deep down what she felt for Simon was more intense than what she was used to. Was this real love? She thought she'd loved Ethan but it had been fleeting and barely there and really didn't take long before it was gone. This was something else. There had been a connection with him since the moment they met, some kind of tether pulling them together. She'd never really believed in soul mates and the whole red string of fate nonsense but Simon was making her rethink a lot of things. She'd never felt such an instant connection before, never felt things so deeply or so quickly.
It felt far too soon to be even thinking about such things yet, but now knowing he'd be gone for half a year, it felt like her feelings were staring plainly at her. She wouldn't tell him, not yet at least. She had no idea how he'd react and she wouldn't risk messing his head up before he left. She needed his head firmly affixed to his shoulders and working soundly when he was over there because the idea of him coming back in a coffin made her feel sick. Would she even get told? Did his family even know about her? So many thoughts and not enough energy, she felt her lower lip wobble again. 
She took a few deep and shaky inhales to steady herself, she wouldn't get upset in front of him and make him feel bad. This wasn't a guilt trip, she was just feeling far too much. As she glanced at the clock again, she figured she'd get up since the sleep ship had well and truly sailed. She could at least feed him before he was off. She wasn't sure if a full English would be too much, too heavy for the day he was going to have but you couldn't go wrong with some bacon butties. 
Carefully, she tried to extract herself from his grip and started to sit up. His hand snaked back around her though, splaying over her stomach and pulling her back against him with a tired groan. 
“Where d’you think you're goin'?” He asked. His voice was deep and raspy from sleep and she tried to relax even though she felt so tense. 
“Was gonna make some bacon butties for us before you… have to go,” she explained, clearing her throat, trying to shake the emotion that was stuck there. He hummed, the arm around her tightening as he placed a soft kiss to the back of her neck. 
“Five more minutes, yeah?” He asked, not really giving her a choice with his iron grip. She forced herself to relax in his hold, telling herself this would be the last time in six months she'd be waking up in his arms, that he'd be holding her. She wanted to soak it in, to memorize what it felt like. His thumb rubbed circles on the skin of her stomach, his nose rubbing at her neck softly. 
“Gonna miss this,” he admitted quietly. Her breathing stuttered at his honest admission and her body went rigid, blinking rapidly to stop the onslaught of tears that were threatening to break free. 
“Me too,” she replied with a strained voice. He moved then, rolling her over to face him. Those beautiful dark eyes scanned her face, taking in her tired, red eyes that shone from unshed tears. His brows pinched together a little as he let out a heavy sigh. She felt bad at being so openly sad about the situation, not wanting to make the whole thing worse. 
“You not sleep, love?” He asked knowingly. She shook her head, not trusting her voice in that moment when his warm eyes were shining with concern. 
His hand came to her face, a finger trailing across her cheek in a featherlight touch before moving back up and along her temple. It danced across her forehead before sliding down the bridge of her nose, all the way down to the tip and then back up. Her eyes fluttered shut, enjoying the feeling and how gentle his touch was. He mapped out the planes of her face for a moment longer before his fingers then trailed down her neck, down her arm until it reached her hand. He took it gently and her eyes opened once more, watching as he brought it to his mouth, placing a sweet kiss on it. He placed it between them both, his hand still enveloping hers. 
“Wanted to ask somethin'...” He murmured, sounding unsure. It always surprised her when he seemed unsure of himself for a man such as him. 
“What is it?” She asked, watching as his eyes darted across her face. 
“Wanted to know if uh… if you wanted to write to me when I'm over there,” there was something shining behind his eyes she couldn't quite place as he asked but she felt her chest warm up at his words. 
“I'd really like that,” she smiled. 
It was a stupidly romantic thought, one she'd never really considered. She'd always been a bit of a romantic deep at heart but she hadn't been able to pay much mind to it outside of indulging herself in sappy romance novels. Her life hadn't had a place for romance in the past and yet the soldier in front of her had been quite romantic in their short time together. The flowers on her nightstand were proof of that. A handsome smile tugged at his lips at her answer and he leaned in, pressing his lips against hers firmly. It was a chaste kiss, one that carried a deep longing and yearning from the separation they both knew was coming. 
“I should make breakfast,” she murmured when he pulled away. She didn't really want to get out of bed, to leave his presence, but she knew time was running out. She wanted to see him off with a full stomach, she wouldn't be selfish. He opened his mouth and she had a strong feeling he'd been going to protest, so she quickly darted out of bed. She knew it wouldn't take her much convincing to abandon her plans of feeding him to stay in bed with him instead. 
She sorted herself out in the bathroom before swiping his jumper off the floor, sliding it over her head to stave off the cold and to enjoy the deep, spicy scent she loved so much. She padded over to the drawers to get a fresh pair of knickers before moving over to the kitchen. She busied herself with making the food but her eyes kept darting to the clock. The ticking felt louder and louder with each passing second, like it was mocking her and her aching heart. 
She heard Simon rummaging around in his bag but she left him to get ready as she tried to get the bacon just how he liked it. He slid behind her, something she noticed he seemed to love to do, not that she minded, and wrapped his arms around her. One of his hands slid up inside of the jumper to lay over her bare stomach. It wasn't a sexual touch, but one of intimacy and she felt her body melt into him as she tried to continue with the food. It made her feel a little better that he seemed to want to be attached to her, like maybe she wasn't the only one bothered by the whole thing. 
“Alright, foods ready,” she murmured, putting it on the plates. He released her then, grabbing the plates for the pair of them before he went over to the couch. Nothing good was on tv at this time so she just left some cheesy infomercials on while they ate in a tense silence. His leave was like a dark cloud looming over them both. He finished before her and once she was done, he grabbed both of their plates and put them on the coffee table in front of him out of the way. 
“Come here, love,” he held his hand out to her, gesturing with his head for her to come to him and she did without thought. She was careful when she moved to straddle him that her bare thighs didn't scrape on his belt now he was decked out in his fatigues ready to go. She settled into him and he used his hand on the back of her head to guide it to his shoulder. One of her hands clutched his t-shirt, the other wrapped around him as she snuggled into him, breathing in his scent deeply. 
“Just wanna hold you for a bit, yeah?” he asked and his soft and gentle tone broke something inside of her. She felt the lump expand in her throat and she pressed her face into his neck as the waterworks started. She felt so stupid, she promised herself she’d wait until he was gone. He didn't need the drama. 
“Lottie… Don’t cry… please,” he begged, his voice cracking as he held her tighter, the hand on her head pressing her closer to him. 
“I’m sorry… just ignore me, I’m being stupid,” she sobbed pitifully, her chest stuttering as she tried to suppress them to no avail. 
”It's not stupid, love,” he chided but she didn't reply as she stayed put, crying into his neck. “Would it make you feel any better if I told you I’m gonna miss you, as well?” he asked and she scrunched her face up at the pain that lanced through her chest. His fingers massaged her scalp and she wished it would soothe her but it didn't. 
“Or that I’ll be thinkin’ of you every day I’m over there? That I have somethin’ to look forward to, comin’ back to you?” he finished and there was a weight in his tone that made her sit up, looking at him with tear stained cheeks. His eyes looked troubled at her emotional state and she wiped her eyes quickly, trying to compose herself. The idea that he’d miss her and was already looking forward to coming back to her eased the knot in her chest somewhat.
“I’m uh… I’m sorry,” she sniffled, cheeks flushing in embarrassment. She really hadn’t mean to be so emotional in front of him. He cupped her cheeks, his thumbs wiping away the residual tears that lay there.
“Don’t need to be sorry, love,” he said firmly, giving her a look that told her he meant it. She was just used to always apologizing for things, it was second nature to her. A habit he was trying to help her break. 
She lay one of her hands over his that was still on her cheek, tilting her head to lean into him, seeking out his warmth. He watched her for a long moment, those piercing brown eyes feeling like they could see down to her very soul. She wished she could know what went on in that head of his sometimes. She felt like she was so easy to read and half the time with Simon, she felt lost. 
His eyes cut from her to the clock on the wall, a deep frown pulling at his brows that told her it was time. She felt like she’d been sucker punched in the chest. He looked back at her then, his mouth opening and closing for a moment as if he couldn't figure out what to say.
“I uh… I always felt like I was livin’ life in the dark. Just goin’ through the motions, gettin’ on with it. But then… then you came along and suddenly everythin’ was bright light. Every fuckin’ dark corner of my miserable life was lit up and you chased all the shadows away…” his words were rushed as if he was just spewing his thoughts as they came to him and her heart felt like it stopped beating entirely. 
Had she really made him feel that way? Did he really like her that much? She felt like he had to be talking about someone else, she felt like she hadn’t done much to get him to feel that way. But his warm and soft gaze told her he was indeed talking about her. 
“I’m really glad I have you in my life, Simon,” she admitted, not having such poetic words as he did but hoping it got the message across. A few things flit across his face at a pace she couldn't keep up with but then he smiled and it seemed like his dark eyes were glowing amber. 
“I’m glad too, love,” he replied fondly, stroking her cheek again before he moved his hand. She knew that was her cue, knew he didn't really want to say the words that he had to leave. She didn't want to make this harder on either of them so she got up, feeling the cold already. She hovered near the door as she watched him fuss about his duffel bag for a moment before he came over to her with a handful of t-shirts. He handed them out to her and she took them, raising a brow.
“What are these?” she asked even though she knew what they were and she should have been asking why he was giving them to her. He shifted on his feet, running a hand through his short hair.
“I… I haven't washed ‘em. I know you like to sleep in ‘em so I thought…” he trailed off and she felt a blinding warmth hit her suddenly in her chest. It was so thoughtful she almost burst into tears again. She brought the pile of tops up to her face, burying her nose in them for a moment to confirm they really did smell like him. It was so overwhelmingly comforting. 
“Thank you,” she swallowed thickly, her eyes shining with unshed tears and his face told her he fully understood how much she appreciated the gesture. 
“Could I…” his mouth floundered, his cheeks turning a light pink color that she never got sick of seeing on him. It was rare he blushed but she was still shocked he blushed at all. “Could I have one of yours?” he finally spat out, unable to look at her. She wanted to make a witty quip about how it wouldn't fit him to sleep in but she could see it took a lot for him to ask her that. She wanted him to be able to talk to her or ask her for anything, no judgment. So instead, she nodded eagerly, moving to the wash basket. There was a t-shirt in there that hadn’t been washed yet and she moved over to her nightstand, spraying her perfume on it for good measure. She padded back over to him, handing him the shirt and he gratefully took it, stuffing it into his bag quickly as if he was trying to hide evidence. 
“I’m keeping this for now too,” she remarked cheekily, tugging at the soft jumper she’d commandeered from him earlier. She wanted to lighten the mood a little before he left and she didn't want him feeling so self-conscious around her. It seemed to work as his lips quirked up in that lopsided smile she was so fond of.
“Guess I’ll let you since I won’t need it,” he huffed playfully and she smiled up at him. 
His eyes danced around her face for a moment before he leaned down, capturing her lips in a kiss. It started off gentle but it was like a sudden urgency had come over him. He grasped her face, deepening the kiss as he explored every inch of her mouth. She moaned softly, clutching onto him for dear life as he tried to suck the soul out of her body. It wasn't just a kiss, it was a whole fucking experience and when he pulled away she felt like she was in another dimension. She blinked slowly up at him and a proud smirk graced his face. It didn't last too long though as the reality seemed to hit him again at the time.
“I’ll let you know the address to write once I get back to base,” he said and she nodded. She was eager to write to him, it was better than no contact at all. She quickly moved to wrap her arms around his middle, squeezing him one last time. His arms wrapped around her like snakes trying to constrict her as he pressed his nose into her hair.
“I’ll see you soon, love,” he murmured and she nodded, giving him one last squeeze before she reluctantly let him go.
“I’ll see you soon, Simon,” she replied, trying to keep her voice from wobbling and failing miserably. 
He gave her one last sad look before he turned and left through the door, jogging down the steps. She shut the door quickly, leaning against it as a sob ripped from her throat again. She knew she needed to get it all out after trying to keep herself in check in front of him. So she allowed herself to cry it out, to feel every shitty emotion she was feeling, because she’d never get through six whole months if she tried to bottle it up. 
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glittter-vamp · 1 year ago
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CHAPTER 6
Joe Burrow x Bisexual OC.
Warnings: Angsty. Mentions of homophobia.
Word Count: 3.1k
Driving to Joe's felt like the longest drive in the entire world for Val, despite it being only a 15 minute drive. She had no clue what she was going to say to him, her emotions were all over the place. They both fucked up and hurt one another. She knew she had to mentally and emotionally prepare for the worst. Its been two days since all of this and even though Joe immediately wanted too see Val, she just wasn't ready to face things so they decided to give some time to each other before taking to one another and gather their thoughts.
Val pulled up to the familiar house and took a deep breath before shutting the engine of her car off and getting out of it. Usually she would use her key to let herself in but after everything, she felt weird to do so, so she just rang the doorbell instead. She waited nervously at the door for a moment before the door opens revealing Joe. He looked as sleepless as she felt, in his infamous colorful sweats he always wore.
"You could of used your key." Joe gives Val a small smile.
"Would of felt weird at the moment." She awkwardly shrugs as Joe lets her in the house.
"I uh...do you want something to drink?" Joe asks, Val could tell he was nervous about the conversation that needed to take place.
"I'm fine, we should just talk about everything and rip it off like a bandaid at this point." Val shakes her head.
"I...don't even know where to start here. I fucked up badly and I know you must hate me for it." Joe shakes his head running his fingers through his hair.
"Well I wasn't innocent either here and I don't hate you." Val sighs the conversation starting already in a manner that she didn't like.
"Yeah but you wouldn't have done what you did if I wasn't such a piece of shit." Joe shakes his head with regret written all over his face.
"I didn't know about the model until the morning after Joe, I got too drunk and let Summer dance like that with me." Val admits.
"So, you didn't get with her out of spite because of what I did?" Joe asks and Valeria shakes her head no.
"I bumped into Summer at the club, after we went back to my place, I guess we made out and I passed out before anything else happened. I then woke up the next morning in bed with her... mostly naked, freaked out but Summer told me that we didn't have sex and that's when I found out about you and the model leaving the club together in Miami." Val bites her lip.
"Do you have feelings for her?" Joe asks which caught her off completely guard. She didn't think that would be the next thing to come out of his mouth.
"No! Of course not?! Joe...why would I have feelings for her when I haven't seen her in years and I'm in love with you?" Val scoffs annoyed that he would ask that.
"I'm just trying to understand what's happening to us." Joe sighs shaking his head.
"I...think we might have move on from each other." Val bites her lip not even wanting to admit that herself, but she knew Joe wouldn't make this type of move.
"No." Joe says sternly crossing his arms and Val snorts sarcastically.
"No? What do you mean no? Joe, our relationship has gone no where these past few years and then all of a sudden it just plummeted because we both cheated!? So no isn't really an option." Val scoffs not believing that Joe would straight out just say no the way he did.
"It's not that bad! We can still fix this, You didn't even sleep with Summer and I...technically didn't really sleep with Sofia..." He says making Valeria confused hearing the last part.
"What does that even mean and don't piss me off, just be honest" Val rolls her eyes at Joe.
"She left my hotel room pissed cause...I couldn't... perform." Joe says embarrassed which almost made Val laugh but she managed to keep her cool.
"So, having erectile disfunction is the only reason why you didn't fuck her? That's not making me me feel any better cause the only reason you didn't fuck her was because you had limp dick & not because you didn't want to." Val snorts shaking her head in disbelief on what she was currently hearing. She couldn't believe this conversation right now.
"I couldn't have sex with her because I was thinking of you! You know I've never had that issue with you in bed but I just couldn't stop thinking of you. I know I was making a huge mistake and my anger towards myself was driving me to do what I was intending! " Joe snaps back clearly getting angry now at Val's reaction to what he was saying.
"You were thinking of me so much & mad at yourself that you brought a famous drop dead gorgeous model back to your hotel your room to fuck her. Thank you so much, that's exactly what every girl just dreams of!" Val says sarcastically.
"Val...I'm trying here. I'm being as honest and transparent as I can. We both fucked up, and I truly believe we can still work on this, we love each other to much not to." Joe practically pleads.
"Work on what Joe? Before this whole cheating thing, we both didn't talk to each other for 10 days and before that--our relationship was basically us being each others booty call cause we live separately and hang out in public once every 4 months to keep the 'we're just friends' narrative going...what could we do to fix this at this point? We've both have been on different pages this whole time on our relationship...what is there to fix or work on?" Val says exhaustedly, she was tired of repeating herself to Joe and reminding him of how fucked yo their relationship truly was.
"So that's it, you're going to just throw all these years together away? Just like that?" Joe scoffs which annoyed Val.
"I think we owe it to ourselves to put ourselves first right now. We both need time and to figure things out." She shakes her head.
"So you want a break?" Joe sighs.
"It seems right, we need to think about what we want and come back." Val nods.
"What if we end up wanting different things? Or you simply want to break up for good and I don't?" Joe asks.
"I don't think either of us deserve to be in a relationship where either one is in it for the wrong reasons Joe." Val sniffles feeling the emotions start to her. They both look at each other with sad heartbroken looks but Joe nods in agreement.
"Do you...want your apartment key back?" He says holding his emotions in as best as he could.
"We can deal with that later unless you want yours--No. It's okay, I'm...not ready for that. I can only handle so much right now..." Joe stops her as Val reaches for his house key on her keys.
"Well if you want it back, just uh, let me know." Val nods.
"Can I still...text you from time to time? I really hated not talking to you everyday and want to at least make sure you're alive and stuff." Joe asks seeming nervous to even ask the question.
"Sure, I don't mind." Val nods as they stand there awkwardly for a moment looking at each other and seeing each other trying not to break down in this moment.
"I should...get going." Val nods knowing Joe wouldn't dare ask her to leave.
"Wait um...does this mean we're suppose to be dating other people? I just ask cause I don't want to be surprised like I was this past weekend with what I saw online." Joe says. It was a valid question so Val couldn't even be mad at it.
"If that's what you feel like you need to do...go for it." Val shrugs pretending saying those words weren't hurting her.
"I'm not planning on it." Joe says but Val doesn't buy it. At the end of the day he's a famous football player with the looks and body of a god, a break means free game. She knew Joe was going to take advantage one way or another. Val just nods not commenting on what he said and she heads for the front door, Joe following behind.
"I'm real sorry Val. I still love you & whatever you need, I'll be here." Joe sighs once she opens the door and steps out.
"Me too."
**********************************
A Few Days Later:
Val was at her store a few hours before regular hours because Kade and Elsa wanted to brainstorm some ideas with her. She got them their coffee orders & some bagels before coming in, trying to care for her employees with even the little things. They stood at the front register talking a bit about personal stuff a little bit before they started on the store conversations.
"Okay, so can we start with the idea's now?" Elsa smiles excitedly.
"Yes! Please." Val nods in agreement.
"Okay, so...I'm not trying to over step here or disrespect you at all but... I think you should use what happened in the tabloids this past weekend, to your own advantage." Elsa says confidently. Val raises an eyebrow at her wondering where she was going with this.
"Pride month is next month, two and a half weeks away exactly and though we always have a section with all of the proceeds donated to LGBTQIA+ causes on certain items...this is now officially a LGBTQIA+ owned business and you should market to the community and go all out for Pride month." Kade suggests.
"How would we get merchandise orders in time, other than what we ordered a few months ago for Pride? Two weeks isn't nearly enough time and before you'll know it the month will be over." Val shakes her head before sipping her coffee.
"I made a few calls and if you tell me by noon today...all this will be here by today, next week. Kade helped me with the budget, it's doable and you'd make record profit if you jump on that attention wave you're receiving right now. Online orders will boom!" Elsa smirks showing Val all the Pride items printed out on a few pieces of paper.
"This would also mean breaking donation records." Kade nods adding his two cents. Val looks over everything they had both gotten together, it had seemed like they had both done their homework on this in the short period they had.
"Fuck it. Might as well!" Val agrees making Kade and Elsa high five each other.
"Great! Next year we can talk designing actual pieces for pride but for now this is a great way to use something bad to your advantage and get some good out of it." Elsa smiles.
"We do however... need to be prepared for any Karen's or Ken's, I've deleted a lot of mean comments on our store instagram page." Kade reminds everyone. That part made Valeria nervous a bit, she was still getting very homophobic hate comments from people, all to which don't even follow her and never had. It was tough to see but she was blocking people like crazy and limiting comments on most posts especially on the store ones. Her group of friends were also not holding back with defending her which she appreciated. They talk a bit more about the Pride collection and how the display should now work with the extra stuff that will be ordered along with marketing strategies on social media.
The day then goes on and since Dani was out for the week Val had her hands full with restocking and cleaning around the store while Kade stayed on the register and Elsa did shipment orders in the back. Val didn't mind though, she was happy that she had something to try and keep her mind busy and off Joe, though it wasn't working like she wanted too. She hadn't talked to him since she went to his house to talk about the dumpster fire that was their relationship. She still had mixed feelings about everything, she adored Joe & cared for him in ways she couldn't even describe but they both cheated on one another. She also couldn't leave out the fact that she spent years hiding the fact that Joe was her boyfriend and him doing the same to her. As much as she loved Joe, she knew she couldn't do that for however many more years. Val gets pulled out from her thoughts when she hears Kade call for her and she turns around to see two very unexpected guests in her store at the moment.
"Hey...what are you two doing here?" Val asks awkwardly at the two men in front of her.
"Uh, just wanted to know if you've heard anything from Joe. We've been trying to reach him cause he hasn't made it to last practices and that's not really like him. Even if they're not mandatory. We decided to see if you could help us out here." Ja'Marr says.
"Yeah, we know you two are really close friends so we thought you might of heard something or known something." Tee says awkwardly making Val snort. Ja'Marr and Tee both knew about you and Joe. They were the only guys on the team other than the head coach that did so seeing Tee trying to make it not obvious was quite funny.
"I uh, I'm sorry but can't help you here boys. Maybe he's in Athens or feeling under the weather lately, I haven't talked to him in a few days myself. I know just as much as you do. " Val shrugs trying to play it as cool as she could but Ja'Marr eyes her suspiciously.
"Y'all break up?' He blurts out and Tee sucks his teeth in annoyance smacking him in the arm. They both look around and notice that thankfully no one was around to hear what he just said.
"We might be...going through some troubles but I still don't know where he is. It's been days since I've last heard of him. " Val shakes her head telling them the truth.
"Are you doing alright though? We saw... the thing on TMZ, you good?" Tee asks.
"Yeah, for the most part. But uh, I should really get back to this, I have lost to do afterwards. I hope you guys are able to track him down though, he shouldn't be ignoring you like that." Val says pushing a smile on her face.
"Yeah, I'll uh, see you later." Ja'Marr nods.
"Thanks anyway." Tee smiles.
They both say goodbye to Val and walk out of the store. Val lets out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding in and then took another deep breath getting back to her work, pushing whatever just happened out of her mind. Though she tried hard, she couldn't help but wonder what was going on with Joe. He never was the type to mope around, miss practice and ignore his teammates due to personal life troubles. Val fought her own thoughts on reaching out to him, they agreed on being on a break and giving each other space. She also thought about what if he actually just used the guys too spy on her & see how she was doing. They were acting a bit odd but she knew overall she had to just leave it alone and focus on her.
**************** It was late in the evening now and Val was making herself some dinner. Shrimp Alfredo to be exact. As she was adding the sauce to the noodles & shrimp there was a random knock on her door. She checked the time on her Apple Watch and it was too late for anyone to be delivering packages so she walked to her door checked the peep hole wondering who it could be. She was very shocked to see it was Summer. She opens the door and Summer immediately greets her with a warm smile. She was holding a bouquet of flowers. Pink Roses to be exact.
"Hey! I hope you don't mind me dropping by like this... I uh, wanted to talk to you." Summer bites her hip.
"Uh, yeah sure come in. Sorry if it smells like food, I'm making dinner at the moment." Val says letting her in.
"Smells great actually!" Summer smiles.
"Thanks, I'm making shrimp Alfredo if you want some! There's plenty, I always over make food for myself." Val nods going back to her stove and mixing it up to make sure all the sauce was spread out evenly.
"I could eat!" Summer nods.
"It'll be ready in a few." Val smiles.
"Great! Um, I wanted to come by and apologize for the way I acted the day after we went to the club & how I acted in the store that day in front of you and Joe. I wouldn't have done any of that if I knew you weren't a single woman." Summer says handing you the beautiful flowers which made you blush.
"Well, I appreciate that a lot but it's really not your fault. I fucked up and wasn't honest but these flowers are so amazing. Thank you." Val gives her a warm smile and she then smells the flowers before making room for them on her breakfast bar.
"I hope things are okay between you two now... I know he probably doesn't like me very much after that video." Summer chuckles awkwardly.
"Um, we're sort of... taking a break at the moment. He wasn't so faithful either and our relationship hasn't ever been perfect. So we're both taking time away from each other to figure things out." Val nods.
"Oh.. I'm sorry to hear that." Summer responds giving Val a reassuring smile.
"Thanks. But uh, why don't you go sit down. I'll make you a plate." Val smiles.
"I wish I would of known you were cooking, I would of brought dessert... or wine." Summer says taking a seat at the dinner table.
"I have cookies and cream ice cream in the freezer & also a bottle of white or red, choose your poison." Val respond back as she gets some plates out from the cupboard.
"Definitely the red & we can never go wrong with cookies cream." Summer smirks.
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A/N: Joe and Val have a Ross Geller and Rachel Green moment happening, how do you think this is gonna go for them?
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amuhav · 1 year ago
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5, 17, 24 for qari
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How far is your OC willing to go to get what they want?
That depends. There's not a lot Qariel wouldn't do for Kaelys. Or hasn't already done. That's not to get what he wants, though. Truthfully, Qariel hasn't had many things he's desperately wanted for himself, nor had it in him to fight for them. When he was young, all he wanted was a life outside the bullshit of noble politics and the court, yet circumstances brought him first to having to deal with it tangentially as a Sentinel, then as Captain. He was thrown directly into it when Shit Went Down™, and then falling in love with Kaelys essentially sealed his fate. Once Kaelys became Queen, all he wanted was to keep his position of Captain whilst King, in order to best protect their family, but once Abor'sai was stable again, Kaelys took that from him to make him a diplomat instead, and... he didn't fight her for it. Not in a way that mattered. There is always a part of him, as much as he may verbally disagree with or push back against a "superior", that is still a soldier who mostly does as he is told, and only ever really disobeys in secret.
What is the worst thing you have put your OC through story-wise?
technically it's not in the story because it happens in some unwritten prequel but also technically it is because it's canon and it's alluded to, so. The events that led to the death of most of the royal family. Qariel was Captain of the Sentinels and Palace Guard and... he failed in his duty. At least, that's how he sees it. He managed to save Kaelys and Kyron and no one else. And not just the royals; many of his men died too, alongside a few innocent nobles caught in the crossfire. He blames himself for failing to protect them all, both physically in the moment and in his failure to see it coming, and he's never forgiven himself. But also I'm about to take Tay away from him and someone may or may not end up pointing out to him that it's likely at least a little bit his fault, and I feel mean about it but also not really sorry not sorry.
What is an alternative life path your OC might have gone down? How different would their life be if they'd made those decisions?
If he'd stayed a soldier and never become a Sentinel, Kaelys and Kyron would also be dead, and Abor'sai would be very different, but also his life would have been very boring. nameless soldier #6 lives, dies, is buried lmao. If Shit Going Down™ had never happened, he'd never have fallen for Kaelys. They hatedddd each other from the time they were children, and it was only working through that difficult time that brought them together. Where a fierce need to protect her begrudgingly turned to admiration and then eventually an equally fierce love. Though he and Kyron were always close, and even with Kyron having feelings for him, I don't think Qariel would have ever overstepped that professional barrier. He'd have just lived a content life of watching over the royal family, protecting the palace he had loved to explore as a child, and arguing back with royal brats.
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pluppsauthor · 7 months ago
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OC Interview Tag
Thank you to @phoenixradiant for the tag!
Rules: answer the following questions in the perspective of one of your OCs!
Last time I did Jesse and Reven. Continuing down the line of Forsaken characters (they won't leave my head), let's do my favourite (and currently only) blind boy, Zenith!
Are you named after anyone?
"...No..? I don't think so. It's not worth going back to my family just to ask them that. The dead gods know I already can't stand them as is."
When was the last time you cried?
"I don't think I could say the last... time... I've cried. But as much near-death experiences and hell we go through, I think I've always handled it the worst. Maybe because I can't see the threat, I hold this higher sense of danger, and it just sort of... eats away at me from time to time. So I cry from being overwhelmed sometimes."
Do you have kids?
"Eh, no. I don't think I plan too either, not as of now."
Do you use sarcasm a lot?
"Sometimes. Dusk and Dawn are always so serious. A strategist and a commander? If I don't crack a joke or use some sarcasm, they're gonna become heartless. Maybe not, but you know what I mean."
What’s the first thing you notice about people?
"Their voice. What did you expect me to say? 'Their eyes'? No, but really, I pay attention to people's voices a lot, tells me a lot about their character."
What’s your eye colour?
*5 straight minutes of laughter* "Oh, that's a good one... Oh, you're serious? I don't even know what colours look like! I've been told they're purple, and that purple is unnatural eye colour. But I don't know what purple is! Or what a normal eye colour is!"
Scary movies or happy endings?
*Another minute of laughter* "You must not have written these with the thought of asking a blind person, did you? While technically I can watch movies, it isn't really the same. But as for scary stories and happy endings... scary stories are way more fun."
Any special talents?
"Well, I'm blind--That's not the talent by the way--see, despite being blind I can kind of... I can sense gravity. It's hard to explain, but think of it like this: Dusk can make light, Dawn can... do whatever it is she does with shadows, I... can sense gravity. Along with a few other things of course. I guess I also a have good balance and hearing. But I don't know if its better than the average person."
Where were you born?
"North City. Okay... well... I wasn't born in my family home. Okay, so my family's house was very close to the Titan Family's main building (in north city at least). Because of this, there was a tunnel connecting them for medical emergencies. My mother went into labour and... didn't make it. So, technically, I was born in an underground tunnel between my home and the Titan Family's main building."
Do you have any pets?
"My family was on the border of being considered rich. So we did have a cat, a real cat, while I was growing up. I don't know how those things still exist today seeing how many other animals went extinct."
What sort of sports do you play?
"I didn't really play any sports."
How tall are you?
"I don't know, can't really check. I've only been told, but last that I remember... 180 centimetres? Somewhere around there if that's not it."
What was your favourite subject in school?
"Ooo... art. No, I'm joking, I'm joking. Uh... probably music. Oh, maybe history, but only when they talked about myths and legends and stuff like that. Mostly music. I can play a few instruments, should I have said that in the talents section? I probably should have."
What is your dream job?
"Dream job... hmmm... I'm not sure. Out of the main trio, between me, Dusk, and Dawn... I'm the odd one out. Both of them both want revenge and to take down the families, and I don't really. I just want to help people, but as for a dream job... ... ...I guess, if it can be anything, some kind of artist. Preferably also with the ability to see what I'm painting or sculpting, or whatever it is I would do."
A lot tamer, considering... last time... Anyway! Tags! @tildeathiwillwrite, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @mk-writes-stuff, and open tag! ❤
Here are the questions!
Are you named after anyone? When was the last time you cried? Do you have kids? Do you use sarcasm a lot? What’s the first thing you notice about people? What’s your eye colour? Scary movies or happy endings? Any special talents? Where were you born? Do you have any pets? What sort of sports do you play? How tall are you? What was your favourite subject in school? What is your dream job?
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marvelwitchergilmore · 2 years ago
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Drowning In Love
Summary; Bale!Bruce Wayne/Batmanx Fe!OC (Althea) ~ They had known each other for a while and nothing has seemed to have happened...yet.
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Yet another night had passed and Bruce was in pain.
No matter how much he would deny it. From the cuts on his arms, to the graze on his face and the bruises on his ribs. He was, it was safe to say, in a lot of pain.
And Althea knew.
She'd known him since she was 23 and had come to visit Alfred before she went back to medical school.
Even then she was beautiful and extrodinary to him.
She was also the first person - outside of Alfred, and technically Lucius - to know who he was. And he never even told her.
It had been 9 in the morning and all he wanted to do was sleep but with the gash on his arm from a machete the night before, it was stopping him from drifting off.
Alfred had fixed it as best as he could but then Althea turned up.
She walked through the front door and into the library where she found Bruce sat behind a desk. His arms were covered, no-one could see the harm done.
But she could.
Althea had been talking, already speaking to Alfred and Bruce when she stopped dead in her tracks and after five very long seconds, she spoke.
"Oh, my god." Althea was in complete shock. "You're an idiot. Please tell me you tried to talk him out of it." She looked to Alfred accusingly.
She looked back to Bruce then dramatically rolled her eyes before turning on her heels and leaving through the door as she shouted; "I'll be back! Don't you dare move!"
Bruce looked to Alfred, who even looked scared. "How the hell did she-"
Alfred shook his head and collected the tray. "I don't know. Although, I think her brain might be a little wasted in the medical field. Then again, she is the best doctor I have ever met."
"Don't try and butter me up, Mr Pennyworth. I'm mad at you, too." Althea was back and dropped her medical bag beside Bruce's chair and kneeled beside it.
"Take off your shirt."
"Buy me dinner first?" Bruce tried to joke.
Althea looked up - she was pissed.
"Okay, I don't like you looking at me like that while you're holding a needle."
"Be glad it's not a knife."
Bruce looked to Alfred but he was already quickly leaving. He knew when to avoid Althea and this was when.
"Coward." Bruce whispered under his breath as he began to remove his shirt.
Althea didn't look to Bruce, but she did hear him. "Don't worry, I'll get him later. He isn't getting away with this. And neither are you. What the hell are you thinking?!"
Althea's hands moved like they were on auto-pilot. She was cleaning the wound, removing the old stitches, cleaning it again, stitching it again - and much more neatly - and finally dressing the wound.
Bruce tried his best to explain his case to her but was struggling.
"No, you know what, don't tell me. I don't want to know." Althea said. "Actually, do. Tell me why you are risking your bloody life every night being dressed in costume."
"It's not a costume. It's a suit."
She looked into his eyes and he had to draw back a little. If she had been a detective, even the most ruthless criminals would have confessed through just one look of Althea's.
"It's a costume." Athea repeated. "You're risking your life. Every night, Bruce. Have you even thought about what would happen if something goes wrong? If you get hurt more than you're capable of handling?"
"I'll be fine."
"Bruce-"
Bruce leaned in a little closer as she finished wrapping the bandage. "Ali, I'm okay. I'll be fine."
She rested herself back on her heels and looked to him. He could see the fear in her eyes, for him.
"I promise."
Althea eventually nodded and packed up her things. "Okay," then she slapped his hand away from the bandage.
"Don't."
"What?" Bruce asked a little offended.
"Don't itch it. It's healing."
"Fine."
That was over a year ago now.
And, yet, it felt like it was yesterday.
Sitting on the edge of his sofa, Althea sat across from him on the coffee table.
Bruce still hadn't changed out of his blood-splashed black t-shirt and trousers, but Althea had bandaged his forearm and put his other cuts back together and was now cleaning the graze wounds above his left brow.
The room was soaked in darkness but from the city lights, the moon, and the one lamp beside the sofa, they could see one another.
"I really wish you'd stop doing this to yourself." Althea spoke.
With them being so close, they spoke in what felt like whispers. It was their secret, being inside the penthouse.
"Gotham needs Batman-"
"Gotham needs Batman, but I still need you, Bruce." Althea softly brushed the cotton wool across the graze, focusing on the redness but then back to his eyes.
The stokes became softer until she finally placed the cotton down. "That should do. You need to sleep. I'll give you some asprin in the morning."
"Thank you," Bruce said, finally catching her hands in his to make her look at him. "For everything."
Althea looked between his eyes and then down to their hands. Bruce's fingers were running softly over her knuckles. "You don't have to thank me, Bruce."
"Yes, I do." Althea finally looked him in the eyes. "You always help fix me, even when I don't know that I need it."
"You know you need it, you just think you can deal with it."
Bruce smiled. "Either way, you're always there for me."
"What kind of friend would I be if I wasn't?"
"Are we just that? Friends?"
There was a long silence and for a moment, it felt awkward. The unspoken thing was out in the open, but then it became...natural.
Althea didn't really know why, but she removed her hand from Bruce's and carefully and slightly hesitantly, she placed it beside his cheek before drawing him in for a kiss.
Bruce was a little surprised, to say the least.
They had known each other for so long and, of course, feelings had always been there but they'd never been acted on.
The kiss was soft and new but...familiar. It was as if they'd kissed a thousand times before, but each time had been their first.
As Bruce kissed back, his hand landed softly to grip her thigh. It was real. He wasn't dreaming...again.
The kiss slowly settled and with their foreheads touching, Althea could feel her lips still burning. But she couldn't. Not tonight.
"Get some rest," she told him. "I'll see you in the morning."
Althea slowly stood up, still feeling Bruce's hand in hers slowly loosening it's grip.
She packed up her things and looked back before she turned the lamp off.
"Night, Bruce."
Bruce watched her leave before he laid down on the sofa and it wasn't long until he finally drifted off with the feeling of Althea's lips still on his.
The next morning, Bruce woke to find Althea walking around the living room of his penthouse, flicking through medical files.
"You're awake." Althea stood and picked up a powdered tablet and a glass of water before mixing them together. "This should help with the headache."
She sat down on the coffee table as he sat up - just like the night before.
"How are you feeling?"
"Like I got hit by a truck," his voice was rough both in sound and against his throat.
"So, typical Tuesday then?"
Bruce gave a soft smile as he saw hers, watching him as he drank from the glass again.
"The news is reporting that Batman has saved yet another dozen people and many more by stopping more criminals. The crime stats have gone down 2% in the last five days." Althea explained. "Also, I've updated your medical form - I know it's only Alfred and I who see it but still. And-"
"Althea,"
"It seems you're also due a medical check-up so I've booked you in for next week-"
"Thea." Bruce took the medical case file from her and placed it beside him. But she still continued.
"And don't think that you're skipping it. I'll drag you there myself if you don't-"
"Althea!" Bruce finally managed to capture her attention, but it was only for a few moments.
"Your vitals seem fine but I've taken the day off to monitor you in case something goes wrong-"
Trust the medical professional to already have his entire medical history memorised.
"Ali, please." Bruce took her by the hand. He could tell, even from just her voice that she was scared for him.
It was only Bruce that really knew the difference between her voices, how tiny the differences were and which pitch or way of wording meant what.
"I'm okay."
Even though he didn't know for sure, he knew. Bruce knew that she had been monitoring his heart-rate all night.
"You fixed me yourself, Ali." Bruce reassured her. "I'm okay. I'm healing. I promise you, I'm okay. I'm here. We both are."
Althea closed her eyes and lowered her head feeling Bruce's fingers intertwine with hers. "I know you won't give this up yet, but please...please be careful."
"I always am." Bruce smiled in a soft whisper.
"Am I interupting something?" Alfred asked as he entered.
Shocked and surprised, Althea quickly stood up and calmed herself. "He'll live."
"Ah," Alfred smiled. "Good. But, just in case, I've called Mr Fox and you are required to stay home."
"Doctor's orders." Althea added.
"Not that you go in, anyway."
"I heard that." Bruce replied.
By the time Alfred finished up, Bruce pulled him aside giving him the day off.
"I suspect Miss Chambers will be keeping a watchful eye on you, already." Alfred agreed.
"Yes, I suspect she will."
Alfred smiled, patted Bruce's shoulder and made his leave.
The rest of the day was spent with just himself and Althea, on the sofa, watching movies.
"You didn't sleep, did you?" Bruce asked after an hour of watching her slowly slip in and out of conciousness.
"Yes, I did."
Bruce just smiled a little before pulling her over towards him.
Slowly, she laid her head down on his lap. This wasn't unusual for them - sometimes it would be the other way around. Althea spent that much time on long shift with no sleep that she could fall asleep instantly and with Bruce living his double-life, it meant he mostly slept in the day.
However, this time Althea could feel herself drifting but it wasn't until she took Bruce's hand in her own and placed two fingers against his wrists that she finally fell asleep - or near it at least.
Hours passed and neither of them moved, just letting a random movie play on the TV until finally it was reaching night-time.
They had eaten a few hours ago but sleep way already taking them both over.
Softly, Bruce brushed a hand through her hair and she began to stir.
"Are you watching me sleep?"
Bruce could smile and keep his eyes on her since her own remained shut.
"No,"
"Liar." Althea groaned as she slowly lifted herself up.
Bruce chuckled and lifted himself from the sofa himself.
"I better go home," Althea said as she checked her watch.
"Or you could stay?"
"I'll get a bad back."
Bruce gave a slight chuckle, "The bed is big enough, Ali."
Any other day, she would have decline or decided to go home but with the night already being in and the hospital being closer to Bruce's penthouse than her own home, she said yes.
Thankfully, Alfred had found her some of her own pajamas - one's she had left there the last time she had slept over - and some toiletries
There had been a leak in her apartment so Bruce offered her to stay with him - he said she could stay forever if she wanted to - but she only stayed until it was fixed.
It wasn't long until they had both brushed their teeth and climbed into bed. And, just like before, Bruce felt her fingers wrap around his wrist.
She was checking for his pulse.
"Thea?"
"Hhm?"
"I'm still here."
"Hm-mh."
"And I'm not going anywhere."
After that, Bruce pulled her closer to his chest.
Maybe, finally, they were passed being 'just friends'.
As the night turned to the morning and Alfred arrived at Bruce's room, he found him already stood getting dressed, fixing the cuffs of his shirt whilst Althea still slept in his bed. She hadn't moved at all during the night. Neither of them had.
"Let her sleep," Bruce told him.
"I take it I might be seeing a bit more of Thea?" Alfred lay the tray down.
Bruce smiled, fixing his other cuff. "It was late and I asked her to stay."
"Ah," Alfred replied as he stood back up. That was when he saw that all too familiar look on Bruce's face as he looked over to the bed.
Alfred had known Bruce's feelings towards Althea since the first time he saw them meet.
It had been in the hallways of Wayne Manor. Alfred had gone to fetch his own coat, leaving Althea in the hallway.
Bruce had been coming down the stairs when he spotted her, dressed in a summer dress with her hair (then) by her shoulders and her sunglasses and hat in her hands as she looked up to the old oil paintings on the walls.
He fell in love with her there and then.
She was beautiful.
And when he tried to run away from his meeting by going to the back exist of Wayne Tower and she was already there, leaning against the brick of the wall; he only fell further.
And now, even Alfred could see he was drowing in his feelings towards Althea.
"I suggest you tell her the truth until your heart gives it away for you."
"One day, Alfred." Bruce replied. "One day."
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vanmarkus · 1 year ago
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get to know your fic writer🖋️
I was tagged by the lovely @jesuisici33 thank you! 💛
When did you post your first ever fanfic?
the first ever fic I shared online was posted in 2008, the first ever fic I wrote in english was posted in 2018
(this question actually prompted me to check my old writing folder AND FUCK I found old stuff written for contests and ugh it's just so horrifying to 1) read something I wrote 15 years ago and 2) read anything in hungarian... it gives me the shivers, though I gotta say I was like a walking talking thesaurus wow)
First character(s) you wrote for:
the very very first that wasn't an OC was probably either jpop RPF or Reid from Criminal Minds
Main character(s) you’re currently writing for:
Evan Buckley and Eddie Diaz all the way baby
Character(s) you haven’t written about before but plan on writing about soon:
I think I would definitely love to include Athena in more of my fics just because I love her so much 🥺
Fandom(s) you’re currently writing for:
911 and technically The Witcher (have a radskier fic just about 70% done, but I got sucked into the 911 vortex before I could've actually finished it lol)
Platonic pairing(s) you currently write for:
"currently" might not be accurate because I haven't actually done more than plan it BUT Josh and Buck bestfriendism is very dear to my heart and I'm definitely excited about writing it (the bitch potential is off the charts is what I'm saying)
Romantic pairing(s) you currently write for:
buddie
Your top 3 tags on AO3 (if you post your works on AO3):
to the surprise of absolutely no one: oral sex, angst, first time
Your current platform where you post your works:
ao3
Snippet of the wip you’re currently working on:
•☔️•
Despite what they agreed to, it has been over five minutes since they've sat down and the only sound between them was Christopher's fork scratching against the plate as he pushed pieces of pancakes from side to side on it.
“Hey, Chr–”
“I’m scared.” He cut Buck off without looking up from his food.
Buck hated himself for asking, but he told Chris that talking about it helped, so that's what he had to do. Help.
God, he wished Eddie was here, he was always better at dealing with stuff like this. Buck usually just… crumbled.
“What are you scared of?” He whispered, like if he didn't ask too loud then maybe the answer wouldn't feel like a scream either.
“That you won't find Dad.”
I have no idea who was already tagged, but here are some no pressure tags anyways mwuah: @forthewolves @eddiediaztho @callaplums @ladydorian05 @daffi-990 @disasterbuckdiaz
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ach-sss-no · 9 months ago
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I've been tagged by @pazithigallifreya ! There's no one I can think of offhand to tag so just do it if you want to
1 How many works do you have on AO3? Aaahhh, well, the official number appears to be 5. I have some scattered orphans out there somewhere.
2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 262,523. Officially. If you were to track down everything I've orphaned it might go up a bit.
3. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
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Good sir, I only have written five fanfictions, so I'll just stick to the top one
Schrodinger's Hobbit
Ah yes, the one that was posted on a regular schedule and has characters people care about in the tags, giving readers a ghost of a chance to discover it and give it a 'well it's about gollum but I'm desperate for pippin' click
4. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
In theory, yes. In practice, if I don't reply to a comment as soon as I see it, I sometimes forget to go back and reply because I've tricked myself into thinking I already have. Because I usually reply right away, you see.
Fortunately I do eventually see the comment as unreplied to in my inbox and circle back to it.
However, sometimes if there's no question posed and a simple 'thank you' doesn't seem to apply I honestly can't think of an answer and will just appreciate the person in silence.
5. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?
Uh, well, there's... oh, there's this one that's orphaned somewhere on AO3! it ends with Gollum learning how to eat people
I think I also wrote something once where it ended on a guy going 'oh no I am going to go insane just like my mother' but I don't know if it still exists anywhere.
6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?
Maybe Schrodinger's Hobbit? It ends with Aragorn saying 'Gollum isn't going to jail and we're just going to keep him' which is a happy ending from one point of view (Gollum's)
I usually just stop writing stories at the point where they stop being interesting.
7. Do you write crossovers?
The answer is no except for the time I did a crossover webcomic between two games no one cares about.
The first really ambitious fanfiction project I did was some kind of three way crossover with tons of canon/oc shipping and it was so bad.
Also there's a thing on my account that's technically a crossover but it's between Disney properties, which are already just one big lump.
8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?
There's a TVTropes page out there with people railing about how bad my ambitious fanfiction project with tons of canon/oc shipping was. I am not going to find it for you.
In terms of comments, no, except for the one time I wrote a shipfic in a particularly eccentric fandom. People got bad about that. Oddly enough the people who liked the ship were the ones that got mad. Failed step one.
I've never gotten hate on AO3. (Not yet! 👀) Only the wild west of fanfiction.net and TVtropes.
9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
I do not.
10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
I don't think so. I don't monitor for that, though.
11. Have you ever had a fic translated?
I've had some people get permission from me to do translations, but they never told me if they posted anything.
12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
Ahhhh I used to years and years ago. I think one co-written thing is still floating about somewhere on ff.net.
I wouldn't be opposed to trying it again one day if I met someone with a compatible writing style and the circumstances were right, but it's not something I'm seeking out.
13. What’s your all-time favorite ship?
I guess I'm not really that into shipping. Sometimes a ship will catch my interest enough to produce content but there are none I currently find interesting enough to claim as a favorite.
14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?
If I haven't finished it by now, I don't want to ;)
15. What are your writing strengths?
I don't feel well-equipped to judge my own work, so I will go off of what other people have said about me, which is always a great method for determining your self-concept.
A bunch of different people have said independently of each other that I'm good at characterization and dialog, so it's probably at least partially true.
16. What are your writing weaknesses?
Oh I don't know how to write a plot.
17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?
There are so many different ways that could be done that this question feels too general to answer.
18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?
Lilo & Stitch. Almost 20 years ago now! The Internet has changed a LOT since then.
19. What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to?
I'd like to try writing original fiction- wait, come back! Come back!
20. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?
Oh, now, that's hardly fair. You expect me to READ these things?
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doueverwonder · 11 months ago
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May 16th, 1900
Notes: technically a repost but the original is part of a chapter fic that i don't want to advertise right now because i don't have the energy to edit the whole thing
Warnings: None
Names bc i confuse folks sometimes
Liesl - Liechtenstein
Edith - Austria-Hungary (oc)
Evžen - Slovakia
Marika - Czechia (bohemia in this fic)
no ao3 link sorry :(
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"Roderich, can you get Liesl and Edith?" Erzsébet yelled to her husband from the kitchen.
"Yes liebling," He responded back, getting up from his piano bench. Roderich made his way to the second floor where all the bedrooms were, last he had checked both his daughters were in Liesl's room playing. Before Edith was born Liesl had already started claiming she was too old to play–Ludwig had started to as well–but by the time Edith had grown to three years neither had any problems with the most trivial childhood games anymore.
He opened the bedroom door not expecting... "Papa! You can't move that it is holding the castle up!" Edith, five-years-old now, had immediately popped out from under a makeshift tent of blankets; held together by an array of chairs, the bedposts, and formerly the door handle.
"I'm sorry Mäuschen," he tried to sound as sincere as possible, "can I be forgiven?"
She pursed her lips, looking over her father intensively as if she were considering, "You will have to ask the queen for a pardon" she said the last word as if it were something she had just learned, and had been waiting to use.
"A pardon?" Now the amusement was hard to keep away from, "And where is the queen?"
"In the castle, where else would the queen be?"
"Preparing for the visit of her brother perhaps?" He said it as a reminder that Ludwig was coming today, both girls had been excited as their brother came around less and less as time went on. He was quickly becoming one of the most powerful nations in Europe and that was leaving him with less leisurely time. "Now come, we have things to do"
"No." Edith was extremely stubborn, took after her mother Roderich always said "You have to come in and get Liesl"
He looked over the blankets that took up most of the standing room in the bedroom, there was never a time when he would have done anything close to climbing across the floor to get a child out. Roderich remembered when Feliciano had first come to live with him, the Italian had only been twelve at the time and still had some of his childhood left; games were not a thing Roderich participated in.
He looked down at his second daughter, and sighed. "And where pray tell is the entrance?"
Edith smiled, quickly getting down on her hands and knees and crawling through a small opening; obviously expecting her father to follow after her. Roderich sighed, mumbling to himself about how he was getting too old to do things like this. The girls either didn't think about it, or obviously weren't expecting anyone bigger than a nineteen-year-old girl–and a petite one at that–to come through.
Once getting to what appeared to be the main part of their tent he found Liesl sitting cross legged, a paper crown, that he now recalled seeing the girls making earlier that morning, sitting on her head. "Hallo Papa"
"Hallo Schatzi" Roderich smiled, "I was told I had to come ask for a pardon for knocking over part of the castle"
She tried not to laugh "Is that what Edith said?"
Roderich nodded as Edith reappeared, now sporting her own paper crown. She sat down on a pile of pillows that he could only assume was serving as a makeshift 'throne' in their castle. Edith crossed her arms, looking as serious as a five year old is able to be; "What do you need from us?"
"Well" Roderich sat up a little straighter, which wasn't much considering he was trying to not knock his head into the roof of the tent. "I was sent by your mo-" He stopped deciding the best way to go about this would be to play along with their game, "I was sent by the queen Erzí of the neighboring kingdom, she invites you both to an outdoor banquet in honor of the visiting..." he trailed off trying to think of a title for Ludwig, "of Duke Lutz Von Beilschmidt"</p>
Edith turned to her older sister, "Do we have ties to Von Beilschmidt?" She asked, still acting very serious. 
Liesl knowing what her father was doing nodded, "Yes very serious ties" the younger of the girls pursed her lips, thinking it over very seriously. 
Roderich not wanting to have to drag this out any longer tacked on, "The viscountess, Marika of Bohemia and her Lover Evžen of Slovak with also be attending"
She considered this, then nodded, "We will come" She stood up, small enough to stand in the tent without knocking it over completely. While Liesl and Roderich still had to crawl to get out of the tent, Edith kept her crown on, but no longer bothered with keeping the tent up and she opened the door rushing downstairs to check for what must have been the seventh time to see if Ludwig had arrived yet. 
"Are Marika and Evžen really coming?" Liesl asked, looking back to the mess that was her room with all the blankets and pillows dragged off her bed.
"They are, don't worry you will still spend plenty of time with Ludwig" she nodded, setting her own paper crown on her dressing before going downstairs; Roderich followed not far behind while dusting at his pant legs and muttering about how he might have to change now.
Roderich stopped in the hall listening for a moment, he could hear the creaking of floor boards, that he knew was caused by Edith jumping up and down to be able to see over the top of the counter at whatever her mother was making. He heard his wife scolding the small girl, telling her she had just had breakfast, and 'these sandwiches are for lunch you can have one later'. Liesl, quiet as ever, was asking if there was anything she could help with; it was a normal routine for him to hear from his family. But it never became less endearing. 
He went into the kitchen, walking quietly up behind Edith. He knew Erzsébet saw him, it was close to impossible to sneak up on her. Roderich winked at his wife, using the fact that their daughter was still distracted begging to have a sandwich right now instead of waiting.
Just as he went to grab Edith, Erzí flipped around, "Roderich Edelstein, what are you doing?"
He feigned ignorance, holding his one hand to his chest, setting the other on Edith's head "I wasn't doing anything. I was just going to note that her braids are falling out"
The Hungarian woman rolled her eyes at her husband, knowing that is absolutely not all he had planned, "I think I left a brush in the sitting room, if you want to redo them"
"Oh I don't think I need it" Roderich picked Edith up, taking her over and setting her in a chair at the kitchen table, he took the now slightly crumpled crown of her head, and undid the ribbons on her braids, running his fingers through her hair to get the braids completely undone. Erszébet had never learned how to braid, and when Liesl was little she had tried to learn but always got them mixed up, and if they were done they fell out quite quickly. Roderich however took to doing it quite easily, and therefore almost always did the girls hair.
"Why doesn't Lutz come as much anymore?" Edith asked as she winced from the pulling on her hair.
"We've told you Mäuschen," Roderich answered "He is a big country, and is very busy"
"And uncle Gilbert doesn't like us anymore"
"Liesl!" Erzí responded quickly to her daughters statement, "That isn't true, your uncle likes you and your sister plenty" she stopped momentarily, a small smirk on her lips "He just doesn't like your father"
Roderich tried not to act too offended at his wife's amusement on the subject, "When you get older you'll be just as busy, then you will understand"
"I don't want to be busy" she crossed her arms, "Mama can I not do work when I get big?"
Erzsébet hummed in thought for a moment, turning to look Edith up and down, "Hmmm, I don't know, ask your Father. 
"Papa?"
Roderich shook his head, "You won't have a choice, Mäuschen. You are Austria-Hungary, meaning many people will depend on you in the future just as they depend on your mother and I now"
"I don't want to be Austria-Hungary," the five-year-old stated it very seriously, her arms still crossed a determined look on her face, "I'll be somewhere else"
"Like where?" Liesl asked, from her spot where she sat on the counter across the kitchen, 
Edith's face lit up, "I'll be Liechtenstein! And then you can be Austria-Hungary!”
There was a decision to be made now, Edith was stubborn and if she was insistent they could switch lands; they would switch lands. "Bébi," Erzí ventured carefully, "That has never been done before"
"Then we'll be first to do it!"
Roderich, Erzsébet, and Liesl gave each other a look, the tone said she wasn't going to be convinced otherwise. Two options, let Erzí argue with her over it–she is the only one capable of doing so–or let it go, and let her eventually figure it out herself. If they weren't going out as soon as Ludwig arrived, the first option would have been the usual, but since they were and wanted her to be at the very least cooperative, for now they would let it go.
“When will Ludwig get here?" Liesl asked, she hopped off the counter, now just realizing there was something that had now gotten on her skirt. Before anyone could answer, the front door was heard opening; Roderich thanked God he had already finished her hair as the moment Edith heard it, she jumped down and ran to the front hall. Ludwig never knocked as he had spent half of his childhood in Vienna; you don't knock at your parents house.
Edith came back in looking upset, "It's just Dražen"
"I thought he already left for the day?"
"He forgot his jacket" she slinked over to Erzsébet, burying her head in her mothers skirts.
Erzí tried not to roll her eyes, "You're going to pout now?" she looked up at Roderich and mouthed 'this comes from you'; he tried not to be offended by it. He knew she was right though, even he could admit he was more... prone to being upset when something small didn't happen like he wanted it to. Meanwhile, his wife was much better at adjusting, or making things go as she wanted them to, and thankfully Liesl had inherited that.
The door opened and closed again, and footsteps quickly started nearing the kitchen. "Edith, why don't you go check if that's your brother?" Erzsébet asked, trying to get her daughter to let go of her.
"It's not, it's probably Evžen, or Dražen forgetting his watch or something" she mumbled, not moving from her spot.
Erzsébet tried not to sigh too heavily, it was true they had so many people living in this house it could be any number of people. Not to mention Dražen was known for forgetting things and coming back to the house four times before he finally had everything.
Ludwig walked in the kitchen though Edith didn't see him due to her continued pouting streak. Roderich smiled at him and said quite loudly "Mäuschen, would you look who is here?"
"It's a trick" she said, still not moving. "I don't believe that Lutz is here yet, you're just being mean"
Liesl meanwhile rolled her eyes at her little sister, wiping her hands on her dress and going over to hug her brother; "Hallo Lutz"
"It's nice to see you, Lise," he said, hugging her back tightly. Edith hearing his voice pulled her face away looking over, "Hallo Ditte"
She stood there for a moment, looking up to her mother with a sheepish expression, and it took everything in Erzí's power to not give her daughter a 'I told you so' look. Edith let go of her mother and quickly went over to her brother, Ludwig let go of Liesl to be able to pick her up. "No hello?" he asked jokingly, when she didn't respond instead holding on to him continuing to pout, he shook his head "Okay, I missed you too"
"How are you doing Lutz?" Roderich asked after his nephew,
"I've been well, I-"
"Well? My goodness you look more than well!" Erzsébet came over, her usual motherly ramblings already starting, "Have you gotten taller since we last saw you? You're definitely older; you must have passed Liesl by now."
Liesl huffed from where she had sat next to her father at the kitchen table, nations and people didn't age the same and sometimes younger could pass the elders in age: Liesl hadn't taken kindly to her baby cousin getting older than her. "He's still younger than me"
"Of course I am," Ludwig added, he had found that he preferred being Liesl's younger. Being older than her just made him feel odd, and odd was the last thing he wanted right now.
"How are Gilbert and Reiner?" Erzsébet asked about the two men now in charge of Ludwig after her husband had been removed from the union.
"Papa is well, and uncle Reiner is..." he laughed a bit and shrugged, "he’s in a mood about something though no one will tell me what.” 
"Good good,” Roderich clearly had not listened to the second part, or maybe any of it “now can we not bring them up again? The last things I want to speak of on such a lovely day are Prussia and Brandenburg" Roderich butt back into the conversation at the mention of the two men.
"Of course Vati, sorry" Ludwig said, trying to set Edith back down but she was refusing to let go.
Roderich waved his hand in a dismissive motion, "No need to apologize, Edith Stefania let go of your cousin” 
Edith finally let go, just as from the hall came, "Evžen, I am aware you're 'trying' but I need better than 'trying'!"
The room shared a curious look, Marika and Evžen fought a lot so it was no surprise, just curiosity at what he did wrong this time to earn another scolding from her. It was only eleven thirty, and hard to think of an offense that could have been made already. The bickering continued as the came into the kitchen, "Would both of you please shut it"
"He didn't wake me up in time this morning!" Marika quickly responded,
You looked so peaceful láska–"
"How many times have I told you not to call me that!"
"You didn't mind so much last night-"
"Children!" Erzsébet snapped at them, gesturing particularly to Edith. The two had an absolutely horrid reputation of forgetting where they were and whose company they were in when in the middle of their arguments; and more often than not needed someone to remind them where they were before it got too heated.
Marika finally looked around the room noticing who all was there, she stopped at Ludwig, "You."
"Me?" he questioned, obviously confused at what he had done to upset her this time.
She groaned, "That's not how you're supposed to... I miss Adelheid"
"We all do, but now is not the day to reminisce over what's gone. It is a day to make new memories for the future" Roderich stated getting up from his chair, "Marika would you mind?" he half gestured to Edith.
She sighed, "No I wouldn't" and held her hand out to Edith "Come, lets go get your jacket and shoes on"
"I'll show Lutz where he's staying" Liesl quickly volunteered, getting up from her chair. 
"I know where the room is" Ludwig always stayed in the same room, there would be no reason for anyone to show him where it was.
"No, something happened there, so you're staying somewhere else." Erzsébet and Roderich looked just as, if not more, confused by that statement than Ludwig was. Liesl must have noticed her parents' confusion and not wanting to answer questions pulled him out before any could be asked.
"Do we want to know what Liesl and Edith did?" Roderich asked his wife, as they were the only two left in the kitchen.
Erzí shook her head, "No I don't think we do, at least not right now"
"Then shall we go Frau Edelstein?"
She tried not to roll her eyes at him, but still had a smirk on her lips, "You know I don't like it when you call me that"
"I waited for centuries to, I'm going to do so as much as possible. Unless you divorce me for it"
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thethistlegirlwrites · 6 months ago
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OC Interview
Thank you so much for the tag @tildeathiwillwrite ! I'll do this one for Rory!
Are you named after anyone?
Not for a person. For the lights in this city. Technically. But I don't go by Aurora anymore.
When was the last time you cried?
The last time it meant anything was when I watched the guards at the city gate drive a knife in my father's chest, just in case a man who'd been cut nearly in half was faking his own death to escape.
It's not like I haven't cried since, from anger or pain, but that's the last time emotion had anything to do with it.
Do you have kids?
I'm taking care of one. He's not mine, not really. I'm just looking after him until I can break his dad out of jail. Then I'll give him back. He's not really my kid.
Do you use sarcasm a lot?
Not sure I'd say a lot...when it suits me, sure, but I'm more likely to be brutally honest about what I'm thinking.
What is the first thing you notice about people?
Whether they're paying any attention to me. I prefer going unnoticed. If someone is watching me, I want to know why.
What’s your eye color?
Grey. My dad used to say they were blue, but I think they probably were when I was a kid and I sort of grew out of it.
Any special talents?
My magic makes me a sort of human map. I can find anywhere in the city as long as I know my destination or have something that belonged to the person I'm looking for.
Personally? I'm really, really good at getting my hands on anything I need. Food, money, information, someone's skill set. If I need it, I'll find a way to get it.
Scary movies or happy endings?
What the heck is a movie?
Where were you born?
Rime. This city is the only home I've ever known. My dad told me stories about the world outside in the sun, but I've never seen it.
Do you have any pets?
Blizzard isn't a pet, not really. He waits in the square and picks up messages for me while I'm out on jobs. But working animals are taxed in Rime, so I tell everyone he's a pet.
How tall are you?
Not tall enough to be easily noticed.
What was your favorite subject in school?
School really isn't much of a thing in the River Quarter. We learn a trade, from our parents or people willing to take on apprentices, but we don't have formal lessons. I learned to read and write from my parents.
What is your dream job?
I pretty much already have it. I'd like my jobs to be a little less life threatening sometimes, but using my gift to make a living is a pretty good way of doing it.
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spaceratprodigy · 1 year ago
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OC Questionnaire
Thank you for the tags @bokatan @the-lastcall 💖💕
[ Faith and Iris OC Questionnaire ]
👇🖤 Maril Fun Facts! 🖤👇
Legal Name:
💙 – "The name's Maril Highwind, daughter of Cid Highwind!"
Nickname:
💙 – "Well, I don't got an official nickname per se.. Papa Cid and everyone called me all sorts of things growing up. I think my favorite is when Papa calls me his little starlight tho."
Gender:
💙 – she/her
Orientation:
💙 – bisexual and probably somewhere on the ace spectrum
Star Sign:
💙 – "I'm not sure when my real birthday is. Papa says it was late March when he found me so we always celebrated the day he took me in." Maril taps her chin in thought. "I think that would be Aries, yeah?"
Height:
💙 – "I'm 5 foot 6 without shoes!"
Nationality:
💙 – n/a
Favorite Fruit:
💙 ��� Maril smiles and looks at the floor. "I've never seen one myself, but I've heard all sorts of stories about paopu fruit. They say if two people share one, their destinies become intertwined and they'll remain a part of each other's lives no matter what. Isn't that just dreamy sounding?" She twiddles her fingers while bouncing her leg. "I suppose the question was more referring to fruits I have tried, huh.. I really like citrusy things I suppose! They're pretty yummy!"
Favorite Season:
💙 – "Funnily enough, I never really thought about my favorite season until I visited Twilight Town for the first time!" A smile flashes across Maril's face, fond memories filling her mind. "Traverse Town was always kind of the same and Hollow Bastion, well.." she trails off, thinking about home. "Anyway," she moves along "summer in Twilight Town was unforgettable and really meant a lot to those I met there. For the experience alone, I think I'm a big fan of the summertime."
Favorite Flower:
💙 – hydrangea, morning glory, sunflower
Favorite Scent:
💙 – "Papa would get a good laugh out of me saying something like oil or grime, but it's true! I already love being a gummi ship mechanic and all the smells of my shop remind me of growing up and Papa Cid teaching me everything he knows!" The excitement in Maril's voice pops, her smile radiates so much warmth, it's hard not to join in. "I have a certain fondness for ink, parchment, wood, and the smell of dusty old books as well. Reminds me of my other favorite teachers! Merlin taught all my academics and we mayyy or may not have dabbled in magic." She winks. "Geppetto taught me how to read blueprints and design gummi ships!" Maril puckers her lips and looks away in thought. "My newest favorite scent, gosh, it has to be all of the delicious food cooking around Twilight Town! I've never smelled anything so good in my life!"
Coffee, Tea, or Hot Chocolate:
💙 – "Hot Cocoa!"
Average Hours of Sleep:
💙 – "Papa always said I needed my full 8 hours! But.." she taps her fingers "sometimes nowadays I stay up a lil later than I should. I just get so excited to work on projects!"
Dog or Cat Person:
💙 – "Both are super cute! If I had to choose one, I think I'd have to go with dogs? Between you and me.." she leans in close "I think a crow would be a wicked cool animal friend to have!"
Dream Trip:
💙 – "I kind of miss Traverse Town, but I doubt I'll ever be able to visit it again outside of my dreams. I love helping Papa and everyone rebuild Hollow Bastion tho, I know how much their home means to them and how important it is for them to be back. Aerith told me it was once called Radiant Garden, and gosh, it sounds like it was so beautiful in her stories. I can go on and on about all my favorite worlds that I'd like to visit again. Twilight Town, 100 Acre Wood, The Grid–" Maril caught her breath and a wave of sadness glazed over her eyes. She blinks hard a couple times. "I've heard stories about other places I'd like to visit as well.. Tink keeps telling me about her home world, Pixie Hollow she says it's called! I think that's where we'll go next!"
Favorite Fictional Character:
💙 – "Technically speaking I did meet Pooh Bear in that old book of Merlin's, so I think Pooh would count as a storybook character?" Maril thinks hard about the cast of characters she's met in her life and the complicated nature of some of their existences and meetings. "I have.. I have another answer.." her voice softens in a way rarely heard by others. "It's.. I don't know.. I suppose there's some debate about how real some others consider him.. but.. Tron.. my dear friend, Tron.."
Number of Blankets They Sleep With:
💙 – "Oh golly, at least 2 or 3 usually I would say! I love being warm and cozy!"
Random Fact:
💙 – Maril fell in love with gummi ships growing up, all thanks to Cid! It became her dream to be the best gummi ship mechanic across the stars. Besides learning from Cid and Geppetto, she also became Chip and Dale's apprentice when she first sets off from home. As the story progresses, she helps make advancements in other gummi tech beyond the gummi phone. Kind of related but I won't get fully into it now: when she finds out what CLU did in The Grid and is forced to face Rinzler, she becomes very devoted to attempting to save him and fix his code.
open tag to anyone who wants to jump in!
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araneitela · 7 months ago
Note
☼ ☀ x 2
Prompt: The salty munday meme // @avaere
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☼ How long do you stay mad? I don't stay mad, but I never forget a slight (and I only selectively forgive). My brain functions in a sense of anger is unproductive and I recognize it, so I eventually enter a state of indifference for my own mental sake. But when I do, it's irreversible; I don't come back from that. Indifference means that I have lost any and all emotional investment in the person in question for one reason or another, which means I've stopped caring. No one outside of two family members, have come back from that. Thing is though, it takes a long time and a lot of effort for someone to push me towards it, and I've been told I'm usually too patient, let people get away with too much, but I think it's because the ultimate outcome is as rooted in permanence as it is.
☀ What’s your rp pet peeve? For my first answer... Hmm, I'm gonna go with ignoring established canon foundations for the sake of an OC. Listen, guys, all characters started as OCs at some point— do you think the writers at HYV woke up one day, employed there as if by some invokation of magic, with an audience of fans already at their heels? No, they all started somewhere, Zhongli, Venti, Diluc, Furina, and all the others, they were all OCs, and they technically still are. We just call them canons now because HYV's original work is 'established' within and by their audience, but they all remain original. Any way, I digress: the lore around them took a lot of effort to create and then tie so many other characters into consistently without ruining anything. And I love to write in that, so when someone comes in with a wrecking ball the size of Mt. Everest, I'm really not very motivated. I won't care about your character's AU or anything, if you decide to overpower, ignore or entirely swap up the game's established setting and timeline because you deem it 'better' or whatever descriptor you want to use.
The second... How we all choose to RP, which means that we actively decide to engage in writing with other people, and yet the levels of communication are absolutely outright abysmal. I understand social anxiety, I understand being shy, but if you want to do something that requires social interaction, then you need to socially interact. And if you don't want to do that, then do it the old-school way, respond to asks/memes and talk in the tags or something, instead of trying to place the entire responsibility with others. Now to add to that however, I also want to note that words have meaning. If you communicate with people and you say A, then mean A, and don't end up swapping to Z because you weren't honest about A but didn't quite dare to tell the person that. Communication is so much easier than people make it out to be.
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