#how DID they keep their identities a secret like did nobody recognise their voices

[dmitrinfinite]

Secret Santa Snippet 2022!

This is a gift for @snowshowerwriting, an awesome friend and writer! I’m glad I got your prompt this year, and since this is my first time posting writing on tumblr I’m pretty excited to see how it turns out. Hope you enjoy!

content warning; implied depression, injury, reference and mild descriptions of nerve damage (hands) (i swear this is hurt/comfort we just have to get past the hurt)

Surely three weeks was enough time for Hero to recover after their last fight - wasn’t it? Villain couldn’t say they knew much about medical stuff aside from how to patch themselves up after a scuffle, but they assumed Hero would’ve at least made an appearance by now. Although, their hands did look pretty messed up after being crushed under falling debris... Falling debris that Villain had knocked loose, and that Hero had pushed Villain away from at the risk of his own life. Uncomfortably guilty about the whole situation, Villain had even held off on any major crimes while they waited for their nemesis to heal. Now, though, as they stood outside the recently robbed bank, there was no sign that Hero was coming to stop them.

“Seriously?” Villain shouted at nobody in particular, causing the crowds of terrified onlookers to flinch back. “Is no one even gonna try and stop me? Do I just get to take all this money without a fight?”

“Sorry I’m late,” said a voice from behind Villain, and they turned to see Other Hero, one of Hero’s colleagues, nimbly leap to the ground. She twirled an elegant blade between her fingers.

“What are you doing here?” Villain asked, raising an eyebrow. Normally Other Hero was busy breaking up gang fights or busting shady underground markets, not dealing with high profile criminals. “Where’s Hero?”

“You didn’t hear?” Other Hero snorted, stalking closer. “Boss says we can’t have traitors on our team - Hero almost died to save you, so… y’know. We had to kick him off the squad. I guess you’re happy about that, considering you’ve got one less threat to deal with. Not like he’d be useful to us now anyway, not with those fucked up hands.”

“Shit,” Villain whispered, dropping the bag of money in their hands. Wasn’t that what they’d always wanted? To have their nemesis out of the way? No… not like this. Villain was supposed to take over and sit on a throne while everyone kneeled at his feet, not shove the only tolerable hero on the force to the sidelines. Before they had any more time to think, Other Hero advanced. They dodged her strike and jumped back, summoning a swirl of icicles in their hand. Incensed by his own folly and Other Hero’s sadistic smirk alike, they struck.

-

The thing is, Villain had discovered Hero’s civilian identity a while ago. It was purely by accident, after they’d recognised him entering his apartment while on a little looting spree a while back. They hadn’t felt the need to bring it up, nor did they feel like playing dirty. If it were any other hero, Villain probably wouldnt hesitate - but they wanted a fair fight with Hero. They wanted to share an adrenaline rush with him as they both stood on even ground, powers crashing together in terrific bursts of energy.

Now, though, as Villain slipped through the window in the late afternoon, they couldn’t care less about keeping their discovery a secret. They had to see Hero - he would certainly be down in the dumps after losing his job and suffering what was without doubt a painful injury.

“What are you doing here?” Hero’s voice asked from the dark, and Villain cursed themselves for not checking if Hero was in his bedroom before using it to sneak in. “You need to go, I- we can’t fight anymore. I don’t work for them.” As he spoke, Villain realised just how hoarse and shaky Hero’s voice sounded. He turned on the lamp and looked at Villain with tired, searching eyes.

“I’m not here to fight,” Villain said quietly, “I came to apologise. You know, about your job. That was really my fault.”

“Oh,” Hero replied, glancing away. He got out from under the covers and trudged across the room, motioning for Villain to follow. “I’m not all that hung up on the job.” As he walked, his clenched fists were shaking violently. Was he angry? No, wait - Other Hero had mentioned his ‘fucked up hands,’ maybe they were jittery from the injury. That seemed to be the case when Hero reached up to flick on the light, fumbling with the switch for a few moments. He crossed the living room, Villain following cautiously behind.

If they were in Hero’s apartment under any normal circumstances, they’d probably be teasing them to hell and back about how it was small and messy - more like cute and cozy, but they wouldn’t admit that - but today they fought the urge. Something was very wrong.

“Here,” Hero said flatly, sitting on a black stool in front of an elegant upright piano. It was probably the most expensive thing in the room. “Between fights, after a bad day, when I was overwhelmed… I played. I’ve been taking lessons for ten years now, and I bought this piano after saving up for ages.” His face brightened a little as he spoke, and Villain felt their chest buzz with warmth until Hero looked at them, eyes wet and hands trembling as he gripped the piano lid.

“I can’t do it anymore,” he whispered, a shake in his voice, and Villain’s heart sank. “I don’t care about my job, I- I’m not even mad at you, and I don’t re- regret saving you, not for a moment!” He stood up, clasping his hands together, desperately trying to still them. “But I… I can’t do this. I can’t write, or type without having to redo every word a dozen times, and I can’t play anymore. I can’t distract myself from the fucking mess my life is right now.”

Wordlessly, guilt swelling in their chest, Villain moved to sit on the stool beside him and opened up the piano.

“I don’t remember much,” they said softly, “But I used to play a little too.” They guided Hero to place his unsteady hands on the keys and rested their own on top. Buried deep in Villain’s muscle memory was a classical piece they’d learned years ago, back when life was simpler and they didn’t have to fight and steal to survive. Back when they didn’t have ‘allies’ and ‘enemies’, when they didn’t have to pretend the one person they looked forward to seeing each day was their nemesis in a bitter rivalry.

Pushing those yearning thoughts away, they looked at Hero for permission. He nodded, still looking at the keys, and Villain tried to remember the piece. The muscle memory was still with them, and for that they were thankful, but they’d never exactly had to play it with an extra pair of hands under their own. Though the sweet melody occasionally peeked through, the song was mostly a jumble of wrong notes and fumbled chords. Villain tensed, worried that their attempts to be cute and comforting had only made things worse. To their surprise, though, Hero turned his hands over and laced them with Villain’s, which put them in what was without a doubt an awkward position, but Villain felt a pleasant flutter in their stomach.

“That was awful,” Hero remarked, but he was smiling. Smiling, so softly and knowingly in a way only he could. “But it… it helped, I think.” Villain averted their eyes as if it’d help hide the embarrassingly obvious blush on their face. As they looked across the room, it dawned on them just how cluttered and dark the apartment really was.

“Have you been sitting alone in your apartment all this time?” they asked, and Hero’s smile dropped a little.

“I don’t have anyone to visit, much less anyone who’ll visit me,” he replied, and now it was his turn to sheepishly glance away. “Not since the team labeled me a traitor.”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” Villain said. At Hero’s hesitant nod, they continued, “And, since you’re already apparently a traitor to those ‘heroes,’ it’s not like we have to pretend to hate each other anymore.” They offered a mischievous grin, which Hero weakly returned.

“Would you mind, then, um… would you mind sticking around for a while?” He asked before Villain could make the offer. All they could do was nod, slowly untangling their hands and putting an arm around Hero’s shoulders. He rested his head in the crook of Villain’s neck and let out a slow sigh, hands shaking again as he placed them in his lap.

“Thank you for saving me back there, by the way. I-I’m sorry you got hurt in the process. I wish I could go back and… Hell, maybe I’d stop you from doing it.” Villain whispered, anxious and guilty at the thought but elated by their close contact in equal measure. Hero simply shifted in a little closer, and Villain could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke.

“Nothing could stop me from keeping you safe. Not even you.”

#hxvsecretsanta #writing #hxv #hero x villain #villain x hero #writeblr #hurt/comfort #slight whump

[rostii]

radio free roscoe adaptation except instead of a high school its a supermarket and its about coles radio.

#how DID they keep their identities a secret like did nobody recognise their voices? am i misremembering something #anyway did you know coles radio is regularly one of the most listened to digital radio exclusive stations ??? have to do more research & #find out if this means ppl just listening by proximity of being in the supermarket or ppl actually tuning in online bc i know #there Are ppl who do that but i don't think its as many as 200 000 #A Lot.

[takahero]

in honour of finishing inkspell, here are some basta observations I picked up along the way. also, inkspell spoilers warning! i also have MANY MANY thoughts so i’d love to hear what you guys think to some of the questions raised

“He hadn’t changed: the same thin face, the same way of narrowing his eyes, and there was an amulet dangling around his neck to ward off the bad luck that Basta thought lurked under every ladder, behind every bush.” — pg.138

“Basta’s left hand was bandaged, Elinor noticed when he took his fingers away from her mouth.” — pg.139

“‘I’d have been here much sooner, believe you me, but they put me in jail for a while on account of something that happened years ago. No sooner was Capricorn gone than all the people who’d been too scared to open their mouths suddenly felt very brave.’” — pg.140 (see they never tell us WHY he was in prison, do they? the possibilities are endless. we know he committed atrocious things, like arson, but imagine if he got put in jail for something completely different…LOL)

“‘You wouldn’t believe how often I’ve told him there’s nothing to be ashamed of in going to jail, particularly when your prisons here are so much more comfortable than our dungeons at home.’” — pg.140 (OHHHTMGOD MEME IDEA)

“Basta flung his arm so roughly round Orpheus’ neck that his glasses slipped down his nose.” — pg.141

“‘Hold your tongue, Basta!’ Mortola interrupted him abruptly. ‘You’ve always liked the sound of your own voice.’” — pg.141

“‘Well, Silvertongue, I’m sorry it’s taken some time,’ he said in his soft, cat-like voice.” — pg.180

“‘My son always said revenge was a dish best eaten cold,’ observed Mortola.” — pg.181 (question. did basta find out about mortola’s true identity between inkheart & inkspell? do u think he realised it when mortola cried when capricorn died?)

“Basta passed a finger over his throat and winked at him.” — pg.186 (wink 2 LMAO)

“Basta bent down and picked up a rusty helmet lying at his feet. ‘What do you expect me to say?’ he growled, throwing the helmet back into the grass with a gloomy expression, and giving it a kick that sent it clattering against the wall. ‘Of course it’s our castle. Didn’t you see the figure of the goat on the wall there? Even the carved devils are still standing, though they wear ivy crowns now — and look, there’s one of the eyes that Slasher liked to paint on the stones.’” — pg.190

“‘So Basta was right after all. He’s dead, here and in the other world too.’” — pg.191 (interesting….so Basta knew Mortola’s plan wouldn’t work? he just wanted a ride home?)

“‘I’d really like to know what happened!’ he muttered. ‘I always said Capricorn wasn’t here, but what about the others?…What are we going to do if they’re all gone?’ Basta sounded like a boy afraid of the dark. ‘Do you want us to live in a cave like brownies until the wolves find us? Have you forgotten the wolves? And the Night-Mares, the fire-elves, all the other creatures crawling around the place…I for one haven’t forgotten them, but you would come back to this accursed spot where there are ghosts lurking behind every tree!’ He reached for the amulet dangling around his neck, but Mortola did not deign to look at him.

“‘Oh, be quiet!’ she said, so sharply that Basta flinched.” — pg.192

“‘You’re going to leave them here?’ That was Basta’s voice.” — pg.193 (at first I was like oh so he has a heart….but then he was mean to resa straight after this 🙄)

“‘Sorry, but he must have overlooked me, shut up in that cage as I was,’ purred Basta in his catlike voice.” — pg.377

“‘Wasn’t it Mortola who had you put in the cage to be fed to the Shadow?’ Basta just shrugged his shoulders and flung back his silver-grey cloak. Of course, he had his knife. A brand new one, it seemed, finer than any he’d ever had in the other world, and undoubtedly just as sharp.

“‘Yes, not very nice of her,’ he said as his fingers caressed the handle of the knife. ‘But she’s really sorry.’” — pg.377 (okay so it SOUNDS like he threatened/made some kind of bargain with his knife, but I strongly doubt that considering how afraid he seems of her?? i know he’s technically working for the adderhead but even by the end of the book, it seems he is far closer to mortola than adderhead. what is their relationship? or does he sincerely think she’s sorry/has deluded himself into believing such? UGH SO MANY QUESTIONS)

“Basta had always liked describing his own and other people’s abominable deeds in detail.” — pg.378

“‘But we’re not going to shoot you.’ Basta came a little closer to Fenoglio, his face as intent as that of a stalking cat.” — pg.378 …. living for all the cat references tbh

“‘He wants you to crawl on your belly to him, that’s what our noble lord and master likes. But never mind, he pays well!’” — pg.378 (yes basta all abt getting that bread LMAOOOO)

“He slowly drew the knife from his belt. Its blade was long and slightly curved.” — pg.379

“‘Hey Basta, I know you like the sound of your own voice.’” — pg.379 (AHAHAHAHA HOW MANY PEOPLE HAVE CALLED OUT BASTA ON THIS NOW? IVE LOST TRACK)

“With a regretful sigh, Basta put the knife back in his belt. ‘Yes, very well, you’re right,’ he said in surly tones. ‘I need to take my time with this sort of thing. Questioning people is an art, a real art.’” — pg.380 (LMAOOOOOOO HE IS SUCH A DRAMA QUEEN)

“Basta. The same thin face, the same twisted smile. Only the clothes were different. Basta was no longer wearing his white shirt and black suit with the flower in his buttonhole. No, Basta now wore the Adderhead’s silvery grey, and he had a sword at his side. With a knife in his belt too, of course. But he was holding a dead chicken in his left hand.” — pg. 455

“‘Yes, they are!’ purred Basta. ‘The little witch, and the fire-eater into the bargain. It was well worth the wait. Even though I’ll probably never get that damned flour out of my lungs again.’” — pg.455 (ok….so who’s gonna draw basta sitting amongst the flour AAHHAHA)

“‘Servant? Who’s a servant here? Just listen to him. As bold as if he’d never felt my knife! Have you forgotten how you screamed when it cut your face?’” — pg.457 … don’t call basta a servant…..noted

“‘Oh, don’t look so disbelieving, little witch, I still can’t read and I don’t intend to learn, but there are enough fools around the place who can, even in this world.’” —pg. 457 (i wonder how much capricorn influenced basta’s views on reading. because capricorn said that he learnt how to read from a maid, right? so basta certainly wouldn’t have trash-talked reading in front of him. and even after living in OUR world for nine years, I’m still surprised that he never attempted to learn, given how dependent we are on it. anyway my headcanon is that he secretly wants to, but doesn’t want to give others the satisfaction of knowing they have something he doesn’t. also nobody he knows would be willing to teach him (unless he threatened them) bc of his obviously violent and short-tempered nature…and learning requires so much patience. still, though, would love a fic of basta being taught how to read in secret and having some kind of positive interaction)

“‘You’re even more talkative than you used to be, Basta.’ Dustfinger’s voice sounded as if he found this tedious.” — pg.458 HAHAHAHAHAHAHAAH IM DYING. honestly the animosity between them was just. A+++

“Basta was in an even worse state. He was sitting close to Mortola, his face so red and swollen that Meggie almost failed to recognise him. But he had escaped death once again. Perhaps the good-luck charms he always wore worked after all.” — pg.526

“The sunlight falling into the room made Basta’s face look like a boiled lobster.” — pg.575 

“Basta put his hand to the amulet hanging around his neck. It was not a rabbit’s paw, as he had worn in Capricorn’s service, but something that looked suspiciously like a human finger-bone.” — pg.581 (THIS STILL IRKS ME SO MUCH)

“The Piper straightened his back, as ready to attack as the viper on his master’s coat of arms…He was a good head taller than Basta.” — pg.582 WHY DO I KEEP FORGETTING HES NOT TALL LMFAO

“The two men were standing so close that the blade of Basta’s knife wouldn’t have fitted between them.” — pg.582 HAHAHAJAHAAJAHAHHAAHAHAHAH PKESJENE I LOVE THIS SO MUCH … IMAGINE BASTA SQUARING UP W HIS NOSE JUST SMACK BANG IN THE MIDDLE OF PIPER’S CHEST OR SOMETHING

“The Piper struck Basta in the face so hard that his head hit the door frame. Blood ran down his burned cheek in a trail of red. He wiped it away with the back of his hand. ‘Take care to avoid dark corridors, Piper!’ he whispered. ‘You don’t have a nose any more, but one can always find something else to cut off.’” — pg.582-583 THIS SCENE WAS SIMPLY……CHEF’S KISS

are you serious is he dead??? WHAT. okay I knew dustfinger’s love for farid would be the end of him and basta being the instrument to rip that away from him was totally heartrending. i WISH it had been more climactic? like dustfinger unleashing his fury and fighting basta, blind with anger and grief. THE DIALOGUE POTENTIAL BETWEEN THEM AS THEY FINALLY TALK ONE-ON-ONE, and then some revisiting of the scene where dustfinger has the opportunity to kill basta but AGAIN withholds because killing is not in his nature….THEN MO IN SHINING ARMOUR SWOOPS IN TO DO THE JOB

now, off to inkdeath!

#inkspell #inkspell spoilers #basta #inkheart trilogy #BASTAAAAAA

[awhitehead17]

We Have Each Other

TimKon, Hurt/Comfort, Love, Hugs, Established Relationship, Fluff.

Summary: When Tim and Kon decide to make their relationship public, they both thought they were prepared for everything about to be thrown their way. It turns out that they really weren’t prepared at all. 

Enjoy! :D

When their relationship first went public, Tim had originally expected the backlash. He mentally prepared himself for the comments he would hear, the scandalous ways the papers would portray him and variety of looks he would receive when he walked through the streets.

When making the decision to publicise their relationship, he and Kon had long and tiresome conversations on making sure they each knew what to expect when it happens. Really, it would have been much easier just to keep it a secret between them, their families and friends but the desire to be together in public and to act normal pushed them to make the decision.

Eventually they got on the same page and Tim sorted out their relationship reveal to the public. With Tim being a Wayne, it didn’t take very long for the news to travel around and soon enough he and Kon became the next topic of gossip. 

Tim had thought he was prepared, he thought he was going to be able to handle everything that came with being in a public relationship with Kon, but he was wrong. He was so very wrong.

Their relationship got publicised just over four weeks ago and despite that time length, he and Kon were still the hot topic of gossip. Tim realised that he hadn’t been prepared, or actually couldn’t take any more of it, when he attended a charity gala with his family within Gotham.

Kon was attending his own party back in Kanas, some sort of annual summer festival that happens each year. Tim would rather be there than here that’s for sure.

They were surround by all of Gotham’s top socialites who were all dressed to the nines in ridiculously expensive clothing. News reporters and photographers were scattered around the room gathering who knows what kind of scandals. Luxurious food was spread widely on a table that stretched as far as one of the walls.

Tim wasn’t new to these things, he despised them but like the rest of his family he has to suffer through them to maintain a civilian identity. At the beginning there were photos, pictures and conversations with reporters before they were partially left along to ‘enjoy’ the gala.

It was at this point, a few hours into the gala, that Tim overs hears a couple socialites talking. He’s pretty sure he was meant to overhear what they were saying because they did not do anything to try and keep their voices low. He makes himself look busy as he watches the room, taking careful sips from his drink as he listens to them chatter.

“I’m surprised he’s keeping up the act.” One of them was saying, a lady in a long blue silk dress.

“Oh I know! I would have thought it was just a phase and he would have moved on from that hillbilly by now.” Another agrees with her, this was a man dressed in a light grey suit.

“What does Wayne see in him anyway? It’s not like he has anything to offer.” The third comments, another woman dressed in a loose, low hanging red dress.

The blue dress lady snorts into her drink, “He’s not bad looking, maybe Wayne keeps him around because he’s good in bed.”

“That must be the only reason why. It’s not like that country bumpkin could ever get anywhere in life or offer anything more to Wayne. No money, jewels, fame, hereditary. Just a nobody from nowhere.”

That was the last straw for Tim. Without meaning to the glass he had been holding smashes in his hand from where he clutched it too tightly in anger. It shatters all over him and his hand causing blood to instantly pool in his palm.

Everyone who had been stood by jumps at the unexpected sound and looks at him with wide eyes, however no one makes a move towards him. He glares at them and gently brushes the glass he can off of his palm. “Excuse me.” He says and makes his leave from the gala to find the nearest bathroom.

As Tim washes his hands, after picking out the glass from his skin (thankfully there was nothing deep and it all should heal within the next week), someone enters the bathroom and leans against the side as they wordlessly watch him. Tim pointedly ignores his older brother, focusing on washing his hands.

After a long moment of silence Dick reaches over and turns the taps off, he grabs a paper towel, takes Tim’s hands in his own and starts dabbing them dry. Tim ignores the way his hands shake in his brother’s grasp.

“What happened Tim?” Dick asks softly, looking at the little cuts on his skin.

Tim swallows and refuses to make eye contact. “They were bitching about Kon and… I just got annoyed. They’re commenting on things they don’t understand. ‘A nobody from nowhere’ those bastards don’t realise what the fuck they’re talking about!”

He takes a breath and frees one of his hands from Dick’s so he could wipe his eyes, hating the fact he’s tearing up over this. He finally looks up at his brother, “Kon’s made the greatest sacrifice anyone ever could and those… snobs have no idea what they’re on about.”

Dick doesn’t say anything, all he does is pull Tim for a hug which he instantly melts into. Having his brother here was comforting but in that moment he wanted his boyfriend. Tim wraps his arms around Dick and clings on tight. “I knew things like this was going to happen but to actually face it… it’s awful and unfair…”

Tim feels Dick press a kiss to the top of his head but again his brother doesn’t say anything which Tim is thankful for. They stay hugging in the bathroom for a long time before Tim gets himself together enough to face the public once again, hopefully they can pull some strings so Tim can get to go home early.

 Unknowingly, while Tim struggles in Gotham, Kon was having similar problems in Kanas.

The annual summer festival of Kanas, a time for lots of baked goods, cheerful music, smiles, fairground rides and Kon was miserable. He was stood just off to the side behind a ‘Grab a duck’ game tent playing with his phone wishing he was anywhere but there.

Tim was in Gotham attending a charity gala with his family, so Kon couldn’t call him like he wanted to. He couldn’t even call Cassie or Bart because they too were busy doing their own things. Ma and Pa were handling their own stall full of Ma’s fantastic baked pies so they couldn’t do anything for him either.

He was just debating on leaving when his hearing picks up on a conversation a group of young adults seem to be having on the other side of the tent. Kon soon recognises them as some of the people he went to school with a couple years ago.

“Have you guys heard about Kent? How he’s now dating a Wayne?” One of them were saying.

“I know! I was so surprised to find that out. I wonder how they met.” Another replies.

“Isn’t it obvious? Kent is obviously with him for the money, simply calling Wayne a sugar daddy.” The third voice snarks.

“I don’t know, he never seemed to be interested in that sort of thing.”

“Does it matter? They’re all rich snobs who think they’re better than everybody else. They throw money away like it’s nothing and actually do nothing with their lives except look down on folks like us who have to work for a living to feed our families.”

“Kent probably doesn’t know any better. I bet Wayne’s just using him for a country fling. Something that he’ll get bored with soon enough and then he’ll be moving on.”

By that point Kon’s had enough. Before he could think better of his actions, he steps out of his hiding place and clears his throat which gains the attention of his previous classmates. They all startle at his sudden appearance and rightfully look embarrassed. They each stutter out something before fleeing.

Once they disappear from his view Kon finds himself shaking with anger. How dare they say those things about Tim. They had no right. They don’t know Tim like he does, all they see is the celebrity persona Tim has to play to hide his identity. Kon wasn’t with him for money, just as Tim wasn’t with him for a fling. Tim and his family are probably one of the down to earth families he’s ever met (despite their flaws of being insane crazy Bat’s) they genuinely care for people and their wellbeing, they do their damn hardest to try and make things right both as Wayne's and Bat’s.

A sudden crack startles him out of his thoughts. He looks down to find his phone now supporting a huge crack across the screen. Kon lets out a sigh, that’s what he gets for forgetting his superstrength, that’s the fourth screen he’s broke in the last month. He fiddles with the device for a moment and is grateful to find that it still works fine. It could have been worse.

Deciding enough was enough Kon makes his leave of the festival. He was done and just wanted to be alone, or be with Tim but that wasn’t an option. He makes a quick detour to tell Ma and Pa he was heading off before leaving the festival to start the walk back. He could fly back, make the trip quicker and easier but he needs some time to think.

He knew that coming out to the public was going to be difficult, he and Tim had long conversations about it and both made sure they were on the same page about the decision. He had thought he was prepared for it, knowing there would be comments and stares about it all. But he wasn’t as prepared as he thought. Even now, weeks later after the initial reveal, things were hard to handle.

It wasn’t fair. People make comments without even knowing anything, they’re always quick to judge without knowing the details.

As he was nearing the farmhouse his phone beeps and Kon is pleasantly surprised to find that it was Tim.

“I know you’re probably busy but can you call me when you get the chance. I left the gala early, I’m back at the Manor.”

Kon instantly goes to hit the call button but hesitates just before he does so. Calling Tim was an excellent idea, he would love to his Robin’s voice right now but there was something even better he could do.

He rushes to the farmhouse and quickly changes his clothes, he scribbles Ma and Pa a note of his whereabouts before taking off for Gotham. There’s a beauty to having flight and superspeed as powers because he makes it to Wayne Manor in record time.

He floats up to Tim’s bedroom window and taps the glass. It takes a few seconds but soon enough Tim’s face appears the other side. Kon watches with amusement as Tim’s expression changes from confusion to relief before he opens the window and allows Kon to climb inside.

Once inside he turns to his boyfriend, “So I thought I’d stop by instead. Better than calling don’t you think.”

That gets a low chuckle from Tim. “Yeah definitely.”

Picking up that something was wrong, Kon frowns, “You okay dude, what happened? Why did you leave the gala early?”

Tim looks away from him in embarrassment and fiddles with his hands which Kon is now only noticing that one of them is bandaged. He steps forward and gently grabs it with his own. “Tim?”

Tim moves their hands so they can lace all of their fingers together, “A glass smashed in my hand, caused my palm to bleed. Nothing major and it’ll heal within a couple days.”

Kon feels like there was more to the story but he doesn’t push. Instead he unwinds their hands to wraps his arms around Tim, to hold him close and rest his head on top of Tim’s because it was the perfect height to do so. In return, Tim melts into the hug and slings his arms around Kon’s sides and hugs him back.

“They were making comments about you and I got angry.” Tim admits a moment later. “They said some stuff which they didn’t have a right to and I lost my temper, I accidentally smashed the glass I was holding and thankfully Dick managed to pull some strings and got us to leave early. I wanted to see you.”

Realising how similar his story was to Kon’s, Kon squeezes him and presses a kiss to his head. “Y’know I had a similar situation just now too,” he laughs lightly, “Some people I went to school with made comments they had no right to. Making judgments without any relevant details.”

It goes quiet between them as they hold one another, basking in the comfort they can provide for each other in ways no one else can. Eventually Tim breaks the silence, he pulls away from Kon to peer up at him, “Did we make the right choice about going public? Everything is just shit since we did.”

Kon contemplates this for a moment, of course he’s wondered that himself. Hell most of the time he wishes they didn’t say anything at all. In the end he reaches up to stroke Tim’s cheek and says, “I don’t know. We could have kept going on like we were but how long until someone unwanted caught us and then outed us in the way we didn’t want? It’s just the waiting game until something new comes up I guess.”

Tim hums and leans into his hand. “Unfortunately.” He looks up at Kon, making eye-contact, “Y’know I love you right. No matter what. What they say isn’t true, I’m with you because I love you for you and nothing else. They have no idea what you’re capable of and how amazing you are.”

Kon heart swells at the pride he hears in Tim’s voice. He also wonders about what kind of comments were made against him for Tim to say those things.

“And you know that I love you to right? Not because of what your name is, or who you are to the public but because you’re an amazing person who wants to do the right thing no matter what. A person who wants to help others even if it means getting hurt yourself. You’re the guy who’s been by my side my entire life, and Bart of course, and I couldn’t imagine anyone else meaning so much to me as much as you do.”

Tim smiles at him, “They have no idea what they’re talking about do they?”

Kon grins too, “Absolutely not. We’re in this together and we’ll get through it like everything else we do. We have each other and you know what Tim, fuck everyone else.”

Everyone who doesn’t know them can comment all they want, but at the end of the day Kon and Tim have one another, they both know it no matter what. That alone is enough.

#Tim Drake #Kon-El #timkon #fanfiction #hurt and comfort #love #Hugs #established relationship #bit of fluff #they just love each other okay #dick grayson

[the--sad--hatter]

Mischief, Meet Your Match - Chapter Three (Loki x Reader)

WARNINGS: Violence, Swearing, Smut, Loki

SUMMARY:

Sam would say your liking for bad boys has gone too far.

Tony would kill the God of Mischief with his bare hands.

Steve would lock you in your room and never let you out.

Natasha would probably just throw you off the roof.

But there’s just something about Loki that draws you to him, and you couldn’t help it even if you wanted to.

Masterlist

When you got back to the compound you headed straight for the kitchen. Which was apparently a pattern of yours because it was where Steve was sitting, waiting for you. Or you assumed he was waiting for you by the displeasure written across his face.

 “Where have you been?” He demanded, forgoing a hello.

 You ignoring the cross looking figure sat at the counter and took a bottle of water out of the fridge, taking a gulp before you answered.

 “Out.” You shrugged.

 “Bucky said you had a doctors appointment.”

 “It was just an annual check-up, nothing to worry about.” You tried to assure Steve but his eyes lit up and you realized you’d made a mistake.

 “Actually he said you were filing your taxes, knew he was lying though.” Steve said smugly and you groaned and gently banged your head against the fridge.

“You missed the de-briefing. When I agreed to let you join the Avengers it was under certain terms, do you remember what those were?” Steve asked sternly.

 “Honestly? No. I wasn’t listening, I was just smiling and nodding along.” You said innocently.

 “Kid come on, nobody gets out of these de-briefings ok? There’s more to being a hero than punching people.” He sighed.

 “Come on Cap! Bucky, Sam and Nat have told me all the stories. You’re as much as a rule follower as I am.” You argued.

 “I’m not a great role model to have.” Steve rebutted.

 You tried to stay brave, to stay strong because you knew without a doubt that you were about to die and it probably wouldn’t be painless. There was nothing you could do about it, you couldn’t save yourself and the superhero strapped to the table next to you couldn’t either. You didn’t want to make this situation any worse for him so when they stuck the needled under your skin and you saw the blood trickling down the tubes towards your body you remained as impassive as you could.

 “Look at me.” Someone ordered and since it was The Captain and not one of your captors, you obliged.

 “I’m here ok? I’m with you.” He promised.

 If he’d lied and said you were going to be ok then you would have been able to maintain your brave façade but he had opted to give the only comfort he could. You drowned out the voices of the scientists around you and the sight of his blood being pumped into your body and focused on him, his eyes. They were full of guilt and concern for you and more than a touch of fury for what was about to happen.

 “Tell me your name.” He instructed.

 He wasn’t asking to get to know you, he wanted to be able to track down your friends and family and have something to put on your tombstone so you whispered it to him. You felt strangely cold and a shiver wracked your body, making him tense in concern.

 “I’m alone.” You said softly.

 “You aren’t, you aren’t alone, I promise.” He comforted.

 “Not here, out there. Nobody’s left to wonder where I went, what happened to me. Nobody’s gonna cry at my funeral, nobody will even turn up.” You whispered.

 So much for remaining impassive. You couldn’t help it, you were thinking back on your whole life, your tragically short and unimportant life. Maybe if you’d tried harder, been more friendly, been more loveable then you wouldn’t be such an easy target for these creeps. But it was too late and you were going to die here and all that would be left to remember you by would be Steve Rogers guilt.

 “I’ll go. I will.” He said but you had already turned away, you were barely listening anymore because you’d heard the scientist give the next order.

 “Inject her with the new serum.”

 “This will hurt I’m afraid, the easiest way for us to administer is to inject it directly into the heart.” The creepy doctor said, but he didn’t sound regretful.

 There was nowhere for you to wriggle away to, you were strapped down too tightly but when the massive needle entered your field of vision you tried anyway. You heard Steve yelling in the background and telling you to close your eyes but you couldn’t. No matter how afraid you were, you weren’t going to turn away.

 It did hurt, it hurt like hell. But the pain paled in comparison to the burn when the serum started burning through your veins, mingling with the foreign blood. It crept through your system like molten lave, setting you alight from within until your whole body was on fire. When it hit your brain you lost all sense of yourself, reduced to a husk of agony. All you could feel was pain, all you could hear was screaming. You were screaming so loudly it sounded like several people yelling.

 Wait.

 It was…

 There was something happening outside of your bubble of pain and you thought that maybe you should care about it but a fresh wave of agony roared through you and you forgot all about it. Until someone said your name loudly and your restraints were ripped apart. Without them to hold you down you were thrashing wildly and you kind of noticed when you fell from the table before someone caught you and held down.

 “Look at me. LOOK AT ME!” They said.

 You grit your teeth and dug deep down for the strength and resolve to do what they said because something in your mind recognised the voice. You managed to squint enough to make out the blurry, terrified face of Steve Rogers. He looked as bad as you felt, probably because he’d been drained of quite a lot of blood. Blood that was now in your veins, tainted by poison and killing you.

 “Just hold on ok? Doctor Banner is going to save you, you’re going to be ok kid. You’re going to be ok. I promise.”

 “I won’t miss any more briefings or de-briefings ok? I promise.” You told him.

 “I’m going to hold you to that.”

 “You’ve never broken a promise to me, I won’t break any I make to you.” You said quietly.

 He jerked slightly at your statement and there was a flash of guilt in him. He still felt responsible for what had happened that day, for the way you had suffered. And the way you had been forever changed by it, in more ways than one.

 When you had woken up in The Avengers compound he had been asleep in a chair next to your bed, watching over you. He had been the one to explain how you were different now, how you were a super soldier (though you had argued that you weren’t a super soldier if you weren’t a soldier to begin with, you were more like a super bartender). He had wanted to give you a new identity and send you into the world, keeping your new abilities a secret. You had suggested that you had to do right by his blood, thinking you had a legacy to love up to. He had argued with you for days, huffing with disapproval the first time he had caught you in the gym sparring with Natasha. He had crossed his arms and glared when he found Sam instructing you in the shooting range. He held firm even when the rest of his team accepted the inevitable.

 It was when he walked past your room one night and heard your screaming and rushed inside to wake you from the nightmare that he finally realized he didn’t have a say.

 “There are bad people in the world Steve and they’re going to hurt people like I was hurt. You saved me, why can’t I at least try to save them. Let me learn, let me try.” You had begged.

 He realized it was more than just blood you had in common. And he knew without a doubt that you were going to do whatever you felt you needed to do, regardless of what he said. So he took over your training, pushing you to the limit of your abilities every day. He dragged you to therapists appointments and learned how to make hot chocolate the way you liked it for when you had nightmares. You had been through enough together that he knew if you made a promise to him, you would never break it.

 “Alright kid, I believe you. You’re still in trouble for missing this one though. I want your report done by first thing in the morning. We start training at 5am.”

 “5am?! Are you fuc… fine, ok, yip, I’ll do that.” You agreed, mentally calculating how many brownies it would take to bribe Bucky into doing it for you.

 “And you can’t make Bucky do it for you.” He added.

 You glared at him as he smirked smugly and left you seething to yourself in the kitchen.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 The next time the camera’s beeped, Loki was waiting.

 “How did you do it?” He demanded as soon as your feet touched the floor.

 “Do what?” You asked innocently.

 He held up the King of Hearts with an almost petulant expression. He’d spent the last few days wracking his brain, trying to work out how had done it. The fact that a mortal could confound him with a simple card trick had sent him through a myriad of feelings. Disbelief, scorn, fury and eventually, begrudging respect.

 “Told ya Mischief, I’ve got a little magic of my own.” You smirked.

 “I could show you real magic if not for this infernal cell. Is it necessary to inhibit my magic inside it? Am I really to be so cut of from my senses?” He demanded haughtily.

 “You realize that it’s a cell on this planet or a cell on Asgard. According to Thor, the almighty Odin isn’t happy with you.” You reminded him.

 “He was never happy with me.” Loki snarled.

 “Yeah, from everything Thor’s told me, I have to ask, what exactly is Odin the god of? Bad parenting?” You scoffed.

 Loki smirked approvingly.

 “I would love to hear you say that to him.” He admitted.

 “You say that like I wouldn’t do it. Take me to Asgard right now and I’ll tear him a new one. Or as much as I can before he smites me.” You offered.

 “I don’t doubt you kitten and it is gratifying to hear.”

 “I might sympathise with you mischief but I’m not excusing your actions.”

 He wasn’t offended, he actually nodded at you as if to agree with your assessment.

 “That is fair. I did try to conquer your realm, I can see why you might take offence.”

 You frowned at how reasonable he sounded.

 “Humans like all vermin will rebel against the superior predator that reminds them how small and insignificant they are.” He said and you rolled your eyes.

 “Well Mr Superior don’t forget that it was the least trained Avenger who captured your ass.” You teased.

 “Not through strength or skill, you tricked me into thinking you were weaker than you were.” He said sullenly.

 “I thought you liked tricks?” You asked.

 “Oh I do kitten. I’ve studied the archaic runes your wizard has covered this cell in. There’s one down here that could be removed. It would allow my magic within this cell but not outside of it.” He said charmingly, practically fluttering his eyelashes at you in a blatant attempt to have you remove it.

 You knelt down to where he was gesturing and studied the runes scratched into the glass. You hadn’t noticed them before.

 “This one?” You asked, pointing to it.

 He narrowed his eyes, suspicious of your easy attitude but nodded. You grinned and pulled a knife from your belt, flipping it in your hand like Bucky had taught you.

 “So if I scratch it out, you’ll be able to use your magic in there?” You checked.

 “I would.” He chuckled. “But we both know you won’t do it, so lets drop the charade.”

 “What makes you so sure I won’t?” You pressed.

 “You’re too smart to trust me kitten.”

 “So you think I’m smart?” You asked with a grin.

 “For a mortal.” He amended.

 “Nope, you complimented me, you can’t take it back.” You said happily.

 “Even mouldy bread can start to look appetizing to a starving man.” He snarked.

 “You’re supposed to be silver tongued, not sharp tongued.” You huffed.

 “You’ll find my tongue is capable of many different things.” He said slyly.

 “When?” You asked.

 “Pardon?”

 “You said I’ll find your tongue is capable of many different things… When will I find this out?” You elaborated.

 “When you remove that pesky rune.” He suggested.

 “Surely you can make me a better offer than that Mischief.” You said.

 “Are you suggesting a deal kitten?”

 “Seems that way.” You confirmed.

 He tilted his head as he mulled it over and you could almost see the gears turning in his head. Your offer was genuine and he could see it.

 “Remove the rune and I will give you a gift, something you will be the first mortal to enjoy. Something from Asgard.” He offered.

 It seemed like a harmless deal and a fair one. You dragged the tip of the blade across the rune, scratching a line through it and negating it. Loki seemed to stand straighter when you did, he automatically became more imposing.

 “I am still contained, I can neither move myself or anything beyond my confinement. But I can summon things here.” He said as he moved to the tray slot.

 There was a flash of green in his hand and he pushed something through the slot towards you. You automatically caught it before it hit the ground and you marvelled at it. It was a fruit of some kind, like a small apple that fit neatly in the palm of your hand but it was a dark purple, almost black.

 “It is an Elfhett, they grow on the low hanging branches of the trees that are deepest in the forest of Asgard.” He explained.

 “And how poisonous are they?” You asked wryly.

 “You are my only company kitten, it would serve me no purpose to kill you while you may still be of use to me.” He assured, though it was hardly assuring.

 “Eat the apple Eve, said the serpent.” You muttered.

 You used your knife to cut a slice out of the fruit, making a noise of happy surprise when you saw the inside was a dark blue, rippled with shining black specs. Spearing the piece on the end of the blade you slowly brought it to your lips. Loki watched you expectantly as it passed your lips.

 It tasted like nothing you’d ever tasted and somehow you could taste that it wasn’t of this world. It melted on your tongue like chocolate, not apple like in the slightest. He looked smug at your clear enjoyance of it.

 “And now that I’ve fulfilled my deal with you kitten, magic may not allow me to escape this cell but it will allow me to summon something that can.” He crowed victoriously.

 There was a telling flash of green light and then Loki was holding the glowing blue cube you’d only ever seen in photo’s and videos. The tesseract.

 Before Loki could use the infinity stone to make his escape an alarm blared and the glass separating you both shattered as a current of electricity was shot through it from the metal grating it was built into and the knife in your hand was whizzing through the air, sinking into his hand. The hand that was holding the tesseract. He looked briefly amused and maybe even impressed.

 The doors crashed open and Thor stormed in, Mjolnir at the ready.

 “Loki! Hand over the tesseract!” The golden haired god of thunder demanded in a voice that was reminiscent of his title.

 “No brother, I don’t think I will.” Loki said calmly.

 You and Thor shared a brief look of panic. When you’d come up with this idea, this had not been a part of your plan.

 After loki had been cuffed by you and led away, the team boarded the quinjet and set a course for the facilty they were putting Loki.

 “Loki took the tesseract from the vaults of Asgard when he was impersonating my father and used to escape when his ruse was discovered.” Thor said.

 “We searched him and he definitely doesn’t have the tesseract anymore.” Natasha stated.

 “So he’s hidden it somewhere? It could be anywhere in the whole universe.” Tony sighed.

 You tuned out the rest of the conversation as your mind spun with the possibilities, formulating a plan. As the team disembarked the quinjet you ran up behind Thor.

 “I think we can get the tesseract back from Loki, but there’s a catch.” You whispered.

 Thor frowned at you, looking around before grasping your elbow gently and tugging you aside.

 “What is you plan and this catch you speak of?” He asked.

 “Well first up, Steve will never agree to this, he’ll hate it so the catch is we are on our own here. But you know Loki better than anybody and it was Asgard he stole the tesseract from. So what do you say?” You asked with a smirk, offering Thor your hand.

 He looked torn, not wanting to deceive Steve or the team but needing to recover the tesseract before it fell back into Loki’s hands, or the hands of someone worse.

 “I’m listening.” He finally said.

 You’d embedded a knife in Loki’s hand and he hadn’t even flinched, let alone dropped the tesseract like you’d been banking on. Thor twirled Mjolnir but Loki quickly stood behind you, wrapping his free arm around your throat.

 “You want a rematch Mischief?” You hissed.

 “Don’t think of this as me using you as a human shield, think of it more as me not wasting an opportunity to be pressed against you.” He whispered in your ear.

 “Loki release her!” Thor boomed.

 You were waiting for the right moment to fight back, not wanting Loki to use the tesseract to slip away. If he did that you would have a hell of a time trying to explain this to Steve. Your heart panged painfully at the disappointed look he would give you if you fucked this up. He’d done so much for you, you wanted, no you needed to make him proud. You needed to show him he hadn’t made a mistake by taking you in.

 You leaned back against Loki, pressing your back to his chest.

 “I’m perfectly fine where I am.” You said, winking at Thor to reassure him.

 “I will release her unharmed, you have my word brother.” Loki said solemnly.

 Your arm shot up, with the intention of knocking the tesseract away from Loki.

 “I just won’t be releasing her on this planet.” Loki hissed.

 “LOKI NO!”

 You saw Thor dive towards you and then all you could see was blue light everywhere as Loki’s grip tightened on you.

A/N - If you want please tell me what you thought of this chapter? What did you like? What didn’t you like? What do you want to see in the future? What do you think will happen? 

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#Loki #Loki x Reader #Loki Odinson #Loki Laufeyson #God of Mischief #Hattersmarvelverse #The Avengers #The Avengers x Reader #Avengers #Avengers x Reader

[writing-is-my-guilty-pleasure]

Stormy Weather || Thor x Reader

Main Masterlist

Marvel Masterlist

‘Would you want to do a Thor x Reader where the reader and Thor are spending the day together in Thor’s place and the reader has to leave to do some work for Cap or Tony but Thor causes a thunderstorm so that she doesn’t leave because he knows how much she hates getting wet (she doesn’t mind though!)’ A/N: I didn’t know whether you meant Thor’s place as in his own house or living in the Avengers tower, but I’m going to set it after Civil War, (we saw Thor looking for different roommates and lets say he managed to find a place of his own. Also mentions of siding with Steve in Civil War soz if you didn’t but I feel like Thor would have sided with Steve.) and just ignore the fact it might not totally fit into the timeline of the movies but hEy I did my best I’m still struggling to accept Infinity War even though Endgame is in like two weeks.  Also sorry if this is too short, I’m trying to overcome writer’s block!

 “You know, when you said you had your own place, I never expected it to look this good.” You said absentmindedly, leaning against Thor as you watched the TV together. Thor chuckled, and you felt it rumble through his entire being – his loud, booming voice was not restricted to speaking, it radiated from his entire being.

“I’ll take that as a compliment, considering my taste in decoration seems to have exceeded your expectations.” Thor grinned at you, moving his arm so that it rested on your shoulders, eyes not leaving the screen infront of the two of you. You smiled at him, eyes resting on the world outside one of Thor’s windows. It was a relatively normal day: the sun was shining, and there were only a few clouds in the sky, or so you could see from your limited point of view. You could hear the world moving as normal around you, the occasional car horn standing out amongst the usual bustle that was the citizens of America.  “I appreciate you taking the time out of your week to come and visit me, Y/N.” Thor’s voice broke you out of your train of thought, and you turned your head back to him.

“It wasn’t any trouble at all, Thor.” You grinned at him. “I’d much rather be here spending time with you than out fighting bad guys and putting my life on the line, which by the way,” You paused, shifting around on the sofa, sitting up straighter. “Is a lot more tiring when you aren’t a god or a super-soldier who doesn’t feel like they might collapse after a few hours of fighting.” You pouted as Thor let out a laugh at your rant.

“You make a good point Y/N, it is certainly much more enjoyable to spend time with someone as ruggedly handsome as me, who would obviously never let anything bad happen to a mortal such as yourself, and is much more experienced and trained in combat than our fellow Avengers.” Thor said, puffing out his chest physically, and also somehow expressing the same vibe when speaking. Loki’s energy has really been rubbing off on him, you thought to yourself as you shook your head, smiling. You found yourself doing that a lot more these days, especially when you were around Thor. He just seemed to have that effect on you, often reducing you to a giggling mess.

“It’s certainly nice to know that I’m appreciated for something other than my combat skills and for actually being a decent human being.” You resumed your position of resting against Thor. It was peaceful moments like this where you forgot that Thor was a god, and heir to the throne of Asgard. He felt normal to you, sure he was a little naïve when it came to realising how this world worked, but he was a genuinely kind and gentle person. You’d watched him grow as a person since you first met him when the Avengers initiative was finalised and launched, maturing over the years and realising that the Avengers never saw him as a Prince, but as one of their own and a relatively normal person. You’d also seen him grow as a so called ‘superhero’, growing used to handling his power in different ways and saving the world multiple times. When you heard about how he saved the world against the Dark Elves you couldn’t believe that it was Thor who had done it. Well, you could believe it but a few years ago, the Thor that you knew then wouldn’t have risked so much to save your world.

And hey, if in the time you’d known Thor you’d developed a slight crush on him, who was to judge you? And more importantly, who was to know? You’d never told anyone how you felt towards Thor, although the only person who you thought would know anything about your emotions and what went on inside your head was Wanda, as you’d felt the extent of her powers when you all first encountered her and her brother. The battle of Ultron really gave you some time to reflect on whether you wanted to remain a member of the Avengers, and unsurprisingly, it had been Thor who had reasoned with you and asked you to stay. But then not too soon after you’d made your decision, he’d told you all in one last meeting with some newer recruits that he had to leave to return to Asgard, and to explore parts of the universe to recover things he called ‘infinity stones’. That had almost broken you, losing one of the people you cared most about in the world – well, worlds. So while you’d stayed with the Avengers back on earth, and fought off more bad guys than you could count, there had always been a Thor-shaped hole in your heart, and for a while it had been hard not seeing him every day around the new compound, but you’d made friends with the newer members; Sam, Wanda and Vision.

Then, the Avengers split up. They straight up, boy-band, split up. Like how the Beatles split up, and how One Direction (it still hurts) split up. You’d sided with Steve and met up with Clint again and a new guy called Scott Lang. You’d never felt worse when facing your old team-mates, but you wouldn’t be free if you sided with Tony and signed that damn agreement. It might even have prevented Thor from re-joining the group when he came back. It wasn’t a proper fight – nobody wanted to seriously hurt anyone else, (except maybe T’Challa when it came to fighting Bucky) and when Steve and Bucky made it away from Tony and the reason that the fight had started, the rest of the team had to face the consequences of their actions. That had to have been one of the worst moments of your life, the time you all spent in those cells. It hadn’t helped when Tony came by to visit, and even when he tried to help, you still weren’t sure about him anymore. He’d changed.

Fast forward a few weeks, and you found yourself on the run from the government, accompanied by Steve, Sam and Natasha. You travelled from hotel to hotel, never using the same name when booking rooms, and you and Natasha had had to dye your hair to try and keep your real identities secret. Hey, it had worked so far. You’d run into Thor a couple of weeks ago in a library, and almost had a heart attack upon seeing him. He hadn’t recognised you at first, but as soon as you spoke his face had lit up, and he’d pulled you into a bone-crushing hug. You’d explained your situation to him, and while he seemed to think that the whole event was completely ridiculous and simultaneously offended that you hadn’t thought to invite him along to the fight, he appreciated that you had to lie low for a while, so the two of you couldn’t meet up in public.

So, today was the first day in a long time that you had been able to truly relax, and you immediately got in contact with Thor, because if anyone can make you feel relaxed and safe, Thor can. Bringing yourself out of your memories, you saw that the movie you two had been half-heartedly watching had ended, and the credits were rolling. Without speaking, you reached over Thor, picking up the remote and clicking through the vast selection of movies that Netflix supplied, and once finding a movie the two of you wanted, you pressed play, and set the remote on the coffee table infront of you, and resumed your position against Thor.

“Thanks for letting me stay here today.” You said quietly, only half-focusing on the movie, half-focusing on the literal god sitting next to you. Thor’s hand shifted from resting on your shoulder, and brushed a few shorter strands of hair away from your face, and gently ran his fingers through your hair in a soothing motion. He didn’t reply, simply letting out a long breath, acknowledging your thanks silently. You abandoned trying to focus on the TV, and let your eyes roam over Thor, from his long, blonde hair down to Mjolnir, which was resting on the sofa on the other side of Thor. As you gazed at him, you felt your cheeks flush, as your emotions decided that now would be a great time to express your affections towards Thor.

As if you had spoken aloud, Thor turned his head to look at you, and his gaze softened as his eyes roamed over your face. “You know, my father used to tell me that humans were ugly beings, and were never worth our time.” Thor rumbled, and you sat up abruptly, eyebrows raised, feeling rather offended. I mean sure, you weren’t the prettiest and most good-looking person in the world but now that’s just plain rude. Realising what he said might have come off a bit too harsh and not at all like it had sounded in his head, Thor hurried to correct himself. “And while I did believe him when I was younger, my personal opinions have changed quite drastically.” He shifted, pulling you closer. “You changed my mind, Y/N.” His usual smile graced his features, and for you, it lit up the whole room. “I’ve never met anyone so beautiful, and if I could, I would give you all of my free time, because you are worth all the time in the world.” During his speech, the distance between the two of you had lessened.

“Thor,” You breathed, face even redder than before. “I-I don’t…” You couldn’t find the words to express your reaction to his words, but he seemed to understand what you meant. He rested one of his large hands on your cheek, tilting your head up and simultaneously leaning down towards you. You were so close that if you leant forwards the slightest bit, the two of you would be kissing, and lord knows when you’d stop.

Just as you were about to close the gap between the both of you, your phone decided to say a big ‘fuck you’ and let out the harsh sound of your ringtone. You stayed where you were for a few seconds, and when your phone didn’t stop ringing, you let out a loud groan of annoyance, and heaved yourself off the sofa, grabbing your phone.

“Hello?” You answered, a bit more rudely than you probably should have, considering you didn’t check who had called you.

“Y/N? Is this a bad time?” Steve’s voice rang through the phone and you mentally hit yourself multiple times. “Only something’s come up, and if you aren’t busy we could really use your help.”

“Oh…no, its not a bad time at all,” You answered sheepishly, on full alert now. “I’m…” You looked around at Thor, who was watching you with an affectionate expression plastered across his face. “Hanging out with a friend, what’s up? Let me know where you are and I can probably come and find you guys.” You mouthed ‘It’s Steve, I have to go.” at Thor, hopping around ungracefully on one foot as you struggled to pull your shoe on. Thor frowned slightly, and turned to look outside. You followed his gaze, and no sooner than you did, the bright blue sky began to turn a dark grey, and the rumble of thunder echoed across the sky. You sighed as Thor turned around again, a cheeky twinkle in his eyes as you bit your lip. “Actually, Steve, it’s not looking too great out there and I don’t want to risk getting in an accident trying to get to you guys…and you know I have a thing about getting wet.” Steve sighed on the other end of the phone, but didn’t seem too bothered about you not coming, and you hung up the phone.

“Thor, that could have been an important mission…” You reprimanded half-heartedly, because who could be truly mad at Thor?

“If it was that important, you would have left anyways.” Thor said truthfully, and you knew he was right. Besides, you weren’t complaining that you got to spend an extra few hours with him. You grinned, pulling off the one shoe you’d managed to get on correctly, and resumed your position on the sofa next to him, and you felt your heart flutter as he placed one of his arms around you once more.

#thor x reader #thor odinson #marvel x reader #marvel imagines #reader insert

[zoueriemandzijnopmars]

Okay so I mentioned this once, but I have to face the fact that I will not be writing a fanfic that is about the same length as the entire book, so here are my headcanons for the The Letter for the King (book) AU where Isadoro will be joining Tiuri for the whole trip (because I want more women in this story).

So background: we have to tweak the world building a bit, but Isadoro is Sir Fitil’s only child and because woman can’t inherit, but he doesn’t want to remarry and he doesn’t want his castle to go to someone outside his family he one day just says he has a son instead of a daughter

This could work because Islán is situated far from everything, so would would remember whether his child was a son or daughter?

So Isadoro when she’s around 10 is send to pretend to be a boy and be a squire for Fitil’s best friend who is in on the plan.

The rest of the world believes Isa is a boy going by the name of Fitil (naming sons after their fathers is something that happens frequently in the world)

She also pretends to be 2 years younger than she actually is. So when she’ll be in the chapel at the start of the actual story Tiuri will think she’s 16 like him, but she’ll actually be 18.

This is to prevent people noticing her voice isn’t deepening and her lack of facial hair.

This will also work because afterwards she will go back to Islán and nobody ever comes there so nobody can even get suspicious.

Anyway the story

Vokia (the mysterious man) will knock on the window on Isa’s side of the chapel, so she’ll be the first to hear it. She’s also least likely to actually react because she has the most to lose.

Anyway he persists and when she finally gives in and stands to open the door, Tiuri has also heard and also wants to open the door.

Neither is willing to back down anymore, so they do it together.

It basically happens like in the book, but Isa is there too.

They go on the journey together and they take turns carrying the letter.

When there’s no sexual tension on Tiuri’s part I suspect they would banter a lot.

While Isadoro is a bit insecure because she’s faking her entire life, she still thinks that she knows everything better

And Tiuri is a bit dumb sometimes

Maybe in the brown convent Isa entrusts the abbot

because she’s uncomfortable being a woman in a men convent

or tries to but he’s like: keep your secrets if you want

So Tiuri is still oblivious

Things in Mistrinaut also go more or less the same

Isadoro and Lavinia get along very well though (it would be a good ship honestly, also in canon, but Lavinia/Tiuri is also a good ship, so they’re just friends in this headcanon)

Anyway, when they ride on with the grey knights, and at the point were they get attacked it’s not Tiuri who gets hurt in the shoulder, but Isadoro.

Ristridin treats her injury but discovers she’s a girl in the process.

He keeps it a secret for the rest though, he tells her and says she should tell Tiuri and the king, because in Ristridin’s eyes Tiuri deserves to know and you shouldn’t lie to your king

He promises not to tell anyone until she’s had the chance to do it herself.

So Isadoro and Tiuri go on.

When they meet Jaro Isadoro is probably very rude to him and argues with Tiuri about it.

She also can’t keep her secret for Menaures because he also treats her shoulder

He mostly agrees with Ristridin, but stresses that it’s her choice

Once they lose Jaro and they’re in the mountain cabin Isadoro tells Tiuri and Piak

Tiuri is quite angry and shocked

His petty shock is that she’s two years older than him

They only really solve it the night after when they’re being cold in the snow storm

Isadoro also tells Piak’s aunt and uncle, because no way she’s bathing with Tiuri and Piak

She manages to get a dress from them and she follows the journey like a girl

This gives some tension when Tiuri and Piak can ride the horses to Dangria but she’s not allowed because she’s a girl, she has to stay in the car.

She does berate Tiuri for picking the fancy horse though, slightly blowing his cover.

Their cover story is that she is Tiuri’s fiancee and Piak’s sister and that they’re visiting an aunt. (Tiuri is there as the ‘man’ and Piak should make sure they’re not doing things)

Isadoro uses her real name because “Nobody knows my real name so it’s a perfect fake name.”

Anyway, because of the existance of a girl in the gang it takes longer before they’re caught by Dangria’s mayor (they’re in the tavern when it happens) and they don’t even round up Isadoro at first.

Isadoro has the letter at this point. Because she’s certain she will get caught soon she opens and reads it.

Then she basically does what Tiuri does in the book and manages to free them.

Once they’re out of Dangria she again dresses as a boy, because they attracted to much attention.

She also learns Tiuri and Piak the contents of the letter when they’re resting

They actually have some money now when they reach the toll, but only enough for one of them, none is willing to let anyone behind though.

Because Isadoro does have common sense they will not almost drown in the river, but think about the ring a lot sooner.

They first try to get over for the price of one though. But the lord of the toll isn’t having that

So Isadoro brings out the ring, having formed a story about how it was her mothers and...

(she’s a good liar with 8 years of practice, and in canon she’s skilled at keeping information away)

she doesn’t get the chance though because the lord of the toll recognises the ring

but at least she can keep information away

Anyway, they can get over.

Meanwhile Slupor is losing his mind because now there are like 4 possible groups that could carry the letter: The two boys he followed in Dagonaut, the two boys and girl that were in Dangria, the young man that left Dangria with a message to the king and the three boys that talked to the lord of the toll

Meanwhile things happen more or less as in the book

But the writer from Dangria doesn’t get killed because Slupor is confused :)

Isadoro doesn’t bind her breasts anymore on the day they reach the city

She won’t wear a dress because they have to ride horses, but she doesn’t want to pretend to be a boy anymore

Isadoro realises that the beggar is Slupor just before Tiuri does, she shouts a warning which distracts Tiuri allowing Slupor to hurt him

He’s not dying, but he does need medical attention, Piak goes with him, but Tiuri says that Isadoro should go to the king.

So she does

But she immediately mentions Tiuri and Piak

When she’s done explaining and giving the message Tiuri and Piak show up.

They can take a bath like in the book, and Isadoro gets to explain her identity struggles to Lady Marion

Because she was like: do you want a dress or a tunic and pants?

And Isadoro was like??? Idk???

I don’t know either I think she’ll go for the dress for the dinner

Anyway things continue more or less as in the book

They see Slupor one more time and he is completely flabbergasted about Isadoro’s gender though

They don’t get a sword though, because Unauwen is uncomfortable giving one to Isadoro in case Dagonaut will punish her.

They do all get their ring though

On the way back Isadoro mainly wears pants

Btw Isadoro has massive older sister vibes with Piak

So when Tiuri makes Piak’s decision for him to stay with Menaurus Isa steps in

Like: ‘Piak you must decide for yourself, I would love it if you came, but I understand if you’d prefer to stay here. But you can also always go back or come visit one of us if you change your mind later.’

Piak decides to come with them after all

Isadoro also has a good talk with Menaurus about what she should do when they return

She doesn’t formally make a decision yet though

But she doesn’t pretend to be a boy anymore

At Mistrinaut Isadoro and Lavinia become even better friends

Lavinia and Piak also go on very well

Isadoro encourages Tiuri and Lavinia to get together but teases them about it too

They meet Ristridin again, he now says he won’t tell the king

When they’re getting closer to the city Isadoro and Tiuri talk about what she’ll do

Tiuri argues that she could still keep up the pretence

But Isadoro doesn’t want to pretend anymore and she’s afraid Ristridin won’t keep his word plus they don’t know what’s in the letter they have to deliver from Unauwen

So when they see Dagonaut she’s not wearing a dress, but she isn’t pretending to be a boy either

So Dagonaut is at first like: I have no idea what I should do 

Anyway so there’s this point in the book where he asks Tiuri: “Is there anything you want to ask.” And it’s clear that Tiuri is invited (tested) to ask whether he will still be knighted, so he does and Dagonaut as the savage person he is, implies that he won’t. But in this AU, Isadoro would ask it, while Tiuri would ask what’s going to happen with Isadoro.

So Dagonaut has to reply that he doesn’t know. And then his speech that if they wouldn’t have done what they did they would’ve been knighted already. Implying that he won’t do it now, possibly implying that he will also punish Isadoro.

So both will try to speak up to defend the other.

Dagonaut interrupts them with: “Would you have done anything different had you known what the consequences were going to be?”

And of course the right answer is no, that’s what Tiuri says in the book and what he will say in this AU, but Isa will think about it and say “I don’t know.”

So Tiuri and Dagonaut are confused, because this is not how the story is supposed to go.

So Isa explains – hang on I wrote this dialogue actually:

 “I don’t know,” when the others stay silent, she continues, “Honestly, Tiuri could have done this alone-“ Tiuri starts to speak, but she interrupts him, “No Tiuri, we both know it’s true, you might have taken a bit longer, but you would have managed it.” She takes a breath. “The truth is, that if the only consequence would be that I would not be knighted and that I as a woman cannot inherit my father’s castle, I would probably have done the same thing. I’m happy right now. If, however, I and my father will get punished for lying to the king-“ she diverts her eyes from Dagonaut’s face at this point. “Then I would probably not have offered my help. Especially if I had known that Tiuri would be more than capable for the job.”

So after this speech everyone is speechless and Tiuri and Isadoro leave to return later that night.

Btw Piak wasn’t there during the talk, because he doesn’t have to be and it would complicate matters for everyone, he would probably hang out with Tiuri’s parents.

So anyway what was actually in the letter from Unauwen they now gave to Dagonaut:

He did indeed say that Isadoro was a girl, but tbf that would have leaked out some day anyway and he was pretty convinced she would come clean herself. So anyway he defended both Isa and Tiuri for doing what they did + expresses his gratitude to them

And he writes that if they do get knighted, he would offer them to wear the white shield.

 Undecided if he also still offers them swords.

So anyway the dinner at night

For Tiuri it turns out the same as in the book.

For Isa, Dagonaut starts in his usual way with saying all that she did wrong.

 Like, “you pretended to be a man, thus lying to me, you know it’s forbidden for women to become knights, etc.”

But then he would be like, but tbf you did everything Tiuri did and it would be unfair to reward him for it but punish you

So Isadoro gets knighted as well

She would still get a punishment though, because you can’t just lie to the king y’know So she would probably have to directly serve king for another year or so and her father will get stripped of his titles

 Because if she was found out it wouldn’t have been nice for a child and you can’t just subject your child to that.

Her father will be pretty mad at her for blowing her cover btw, but that’s for the next book.

Isadoro does get Islán though, and her father can stay there during her time with the king

Possible the knight she squired for that was in on the complot will get punished too.

And they lived happily ever after

Until Secrets of the Wild Wood at least.

Oh and Tiuri gets to keep Ardanwen, because he likes riding more, is a bigger fan of Ardanwen in general and has more opportunity to ride him in the coming year.

#the letter for the king #Secrets of the Wild Wood #de brief voor de koning #part time writeblr #I made an original post #Guys I love Isadoro so much and this AU is basically canon in my head #Though like this Isa is pretty different from canon Isa because her life was completely different from her 10th to her 18th #and after that as well of course #actual Isa is very feminine and I would love to see how that would change in this AU #Also I have this headcanon that is basically actual canon that Isa had a crush on Viridian that he exploited #like why would they help him? #because they thought he would marry Isa and make her queen #so that would be so cool to see in this AU version of Secrets of the wild wood #This is 2265 words #I better get at least 2 likes #actually I might just write loose scenes for this? #but anyway anybody feel free to run with this idea just tag me because I'm starved for tlftk content #also this one was by far the most popular fanfic idea in the tlftk uquiz #which I find pretty interesting

[nejitenforlife]

NejiTen Month 2020

Day 11 - Pirate AU (Part 2)

Please read part 1 if you haven’t already, before reading this part of the story. The final part will (hopefully) be out tomorrow. I hope you enjoy this part of the story! 

Word Count: 2,612

.

Tenten instantly felt the change of temperature upon awakening. Where she was warm in the storeroom, she could not stop shivering in this new location. After opening her eyes, she realized she had been moved to the brig, a revelation that angered Tenten more than frightened her.

How dare the captain put her behind bars! She was a lady—a woman of station—and he had no right to show such disrespect to her person. Of course, she knew she didn’t look like a woman at the moment. No, she looked more like a homeless person from the streets, not the wealthy young lady she was.

Which was for the best. Tenten refused to give her real identity away to this man—even if he decided to torture her for it. Telling him would equal death—not just her own, but his and his crew’s as well. Not that Tenten should care one bit about what might happen to him or his crew members, but she didn’t want to be caught up in more of her father’s—and his—mess than necessary.

Tenten wondered if the captain would be willing to let her go once he reached his destination in exchange for her working on board. It would be preferable than being kept in this cold, damp cell. But even if she must remain here, if he promised to let her go once they reached land, she wouldn’t complain. Hell, she even contemplated warming his bed for the duration of their journey if that was what persuade him to let her leave without harm. For surely by now her fiancé knew of her absence and was rallying his men to find her.

Tenten would take her chances with these pirates over being handed back to that man.

So no, she would not tell the captain who she was, and she would do everything in her power to leave this ship and make a new life on some unremarkable small town, somewhere her fiancé would never find her.

“Are you awake?”

The voice startled Tenten and she jumped, her head whipping around to find the speaker. A man stepped into the dingy lamp light, holding a tray in his hands.

“The captain asked me to make sure you had enough water, since you seemed dehydrated,” he said, letting himself into the cell and placing the tray in front of her with a kind smile. “He also told me to get you some food. I’m sorry it is only basic. The captain would flog me if he found out I fed you anything other than what he told me to.”

Tenten didn’t care. The piece of crusty bread and watered down soup looked like heaven compared to the raw vegetables she had been eating every day. She would have loved some stew, or something with chunks of meat in it, but she wouldn’t complain. This was more than she had expected to receive from the pirate captain, and she would be an idiot to be ungrateful for it.

“Thank you.” Tenten smiled at the kind pirate, wondering how such a man found this sort living.

“My name is Rock Lee, but you may just call me Lee. I am the first mate to captain Neji Hyuga of the Crimson Night. What is your name?”

Tenten had heard of the Crimson Night. The crew weren’t as vicious as other pirates, but they were still ruthless, and they revelled in looting other ships, pirate or otherwise. Tenten supposed she was fortunate to have found herself onto a ship that took captives instead of killing all their enemies, and she had never heard of stories of the crew of the Crimson Night raping people. But just because she hadn’t heard of it, did not mean it didn’t happen…

“Your name, miss?” the first officer asked again, watching her with shrewd, guarded eyes. Tenten got the feeling that although he was kind to her, he wasn’t one to be trifled with.

“I’m nobody,” she replied. She grabbed the jug of water off the tray and took a huge gulp, not wanting to keep eye contact with the pirate. Although the water tasted slightly stale, she felt as though she could cry as it ran down her throat to settle in her belly. Nothing had ever tasted so nice.

“Even so, you must have a name.”

She shook her head. “I don’t want to say.”

“If you are unwilling to say, I can only assume that you are a lady of means and you are afraid we will recognise the name and hold you for ransom. That, or you are running from someone and do not wish for us to spill your secrets to them.” He spoke in an amused tone, as though he was just making it up, but Tenten knew he meant the words, and she had to stop herself from panicking at just how close to the truth he had come—on both counts.

“Does it matter what my name is?” she snapped, using anger to hide her fear. “You can only be planning to either kill me or let me go, and I don’t see why my name is relevant in either case. If you want to kill me for stowing away on your ship, just do it. I’d rather not have my imminent death dragged out. And if you’re planning on letting me go, then we won’t see each other again so what’s so important about knowing it?”

Lee held her gaze and Tenten had to fight not to squirm under his perusal. There was no way she was going to back down from this. As soon as they knew who she was they would attempt to benefit from that fact. And yes, she realized she could have lied, but this man seemed smart—smarter than perhaps he let on to others—and she wasn’t a very good liar to begin with. It was best for her to just keep her mouth shut so as not to incriminate herself any further.

“Very well then.” He stood up, gave her another long look, then nodded. “I must go. Maybe you will feel like telling the captain.”

Tenten didn’t think a sentence so innocuous could be said in such a threatening way, and she decided to re-evaluate the nice-guy image she had in her head of him. Of course he wasn’t a nice guy. He was a pirate for goodness sake! There was nothing good about pirates.

The first mate locked the cell behind him, taking with him the only lamp and leaving her in complete and utter darkness.

.

.

.

“Captain,” the female captive said from her place on the floor. She was still wearing men’s clothes, and it allowed her to move freely inside the cell, instead of being encumbered by so many layers. Still, Neji wouldn’t mind seeing her in her usual attire—clothes that would hug her body instead of sitting like a shapeless rag.

“Lady,” he nodded in reply, coming to stand at the outside of her cell door.

It had been two days since she was taken to the brig, and Neji had to admit that she was looking better. Not a lot cleaner—he had only allowed her some water and a rag to wash her face and hands, and was still yet to see a bath—but her face held colour once more and she seemed brighter, more alert than when he had found her.

“Is it lunch time yet?” she asked, eyes darting behind him in case Lee was following with a tray of food.

Neji wanted to snort at the gall of her. She was his prisoner; she would be fed when he deemed it appropriate. Hell, he had every right to withhold food from her since she was withholding information from him.

“Lee will bring something shortly,” he replied instead, unable to deny her.

Neji had been visiting his prisoner since the first day she had been transferred to the brig, and each day he found himself looking forward to seeing her. She was a breath of fresh air on this testosterone filled ship, and she didn’t seem intimidated by him. More than once he found himself butting heads with her, but he found her wit and intelligence attractive.

His captive smiled, and not for the first time Neji wondered what those lips would feel like against his. “And a bath too?”

Her eyes were twinkling as she asked, but he detected the hopeful note in her voice. A smirk tugged at his lips. “You get a bath when you tell me who you are.”

She pouted, her shoulders slumping under the blanket he had provided for her on her first day in the brig, after he had noticed how her body shivered in the dark room.

“I’m kind of hoping you get so sick of the stench of me that you have no choice but to order me to take a bath,” she admitted with a grin.

Neji raised an eyebrow at her. “I was not aware that I had the ability to order you to do anything.”

She laughed at his words, the noise feminine and utterly enchanting. “True. Not many people can get away with telling me what to do.”

Not for the first time, Neji had to tell himself why it would be a bad idea to enter the cell with her. He wasn’t worried she would attack him, but he was worried about his own reaction to being so close to her, seeing as though he already felt attracted to the mysterious woman. He pulled up a chair and sat by the door, knowing he would be there a while despite his mind telling him he had more important things to do.

“Captain,” Lee appeared at his side, too early for lunch to be served.

“What is it, Lee?” Neji didn’t want to be annoyed at his first mate, but he also didn’t like being disturbed when he was speaking with his captive.

“Kiba has spotted a ship in the distance, travelling in our direction. It could be nothing, but he wanted to make sure you knew either way.”

“Pirates?” If they were, Neji would be more than happy to fight them head on. Otherwise, he would rather continue undisturbed, not only because their arrival at their destination was time sensitive, but now because he didn’t want to risk any harm coming to his captive if a fight broke out.

“Nay, Captain. It’s a navy ship.”

“Keep an eye on them but let them be. We are too busy to have a skirmish with the navy right now.”

“Aye, Captain. I will inform you if anything changes.”

Neji nodded, satisfied that his men would do their jobs properly. He didn’t believe the navy ship would bother them, but he wasn’t going to be caught off guard either. “Good. You may go.”

Turning back to look at his pretty captive, Neji was startled to see the colour had drained from her face and she was shaking even more than on her first day in the hold, when she had been freezing. He frowned, worried that she had suddenly become ill.

“Are you well?” he asked her, trying to keep the concern from his tone. It wouldn’t do him any good if his captive found out he had taken a shine to her.

Her eyes met his, wild and… frightened? What did she have to be frightened about?

“Don’t engage with them,” she said with an unsteady voice. “Please. If they came after you, don’t fight them.”

Was she worried about a battle? No doubt, if this was her first time on a ship, of course she would be a little apprehensive.

Neji tried to give her a comforting smile, though he wasn’t sure it worked. “You do not need to be afraid. My men are skilled fighters, and I will not let harm come to you.”

But his captive was shaking her head, her body shaking uncontrollably. “No, no, no, no. You can’t. Please!”

He wasn’t sure why this was upsetting her, and Neji didn’t know how to comfort her, so he tried to change the topic. “I am getting tired of calling you ‘lady’. Will you tell me your name so I can call you appropriately?”

Her head snapped up to his, as though it was the first time he had asked her the question. She paled further, making Neji more concerned that something was ailing her. “No, I won’t tell you. Maybe…” she paused, thinking, and then met his gaze. “If you flee from them, I will tell you.”

What made her so certain that the navy ship would attack them? Lee had said they were a distance away, and naval ships rarely tried to fight pirates if they did not have backup—they knew pirates had a reputation of fighting dirty. Neji wasn’t worried, but his captive seemed to think it inevitable that a fight would ensue.

“I am afraid that I cannot make such a promise,” he told her. “I am a pirate; if someone wishes to go against me then they will regret it.”

She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could do so Neji heard feet pounding down the stairs to the brig.

“Captain! They are turning astaboard and readying their cannons!” Lee’s voice was loud and urgent in the quiet of the room, but Neji was still able to make out the sharp intake of breath from inside the cell.

“Ready the cannons, then. If a fight is what they want, then a fight is what they shall have.” He stood, knowing his men needed direction, though he didn’t want to leave his captive alone in her cell. A part of him wanted to stay with her and reassure her but he knew he couldn’t. He was the captain of his ship, and it was his duty to make sure they came out victorious from this fight—he needed to be with his crew.

“Wait!” His captive scrambled to her feet and clutched at the cell doors, just inches from where he was standing. Her eyes held fear like he had never seen before. “At least give me a knife or a dagger to defend myself. I’ll die otherwise!”

Neji frowned, not only because she wanted a weapon to defend herself against the navy—people she should be overjoyed to see at that moment—but also because of the finality of her voice. Did she truly believe she would be killed in this skirmish?

“I will not let you die. You will be safe here.” Neji longed to do something more, to prove he would keep his word. But what would it look like to his first mate if he reached through the bars to caress her face? No, that would not be a good idea.

“I will keep you safe,” he promised, his voice low. He fixed his eyes on hers, willing her to believe him, but she shook her head and stepped away from the grates, a look of defeat on her face. She didn’t believe him. Neji was surprised at how much that hurt, but he couldn’t fault her for not trusting him. They may have formed a rapport over the last few days, but she was still his prisoner.

He turned his back on her and made his way up the stairs, his first mate hot on his heels. He would take care of this problem, but he wouldn’t stay away from his captive for long.

It was about time they got to know each other better.

#NejitenMonth2020 #Nejiten Fanfiction #Day 11

[fc5holidayexchange]

FAR CRY 5 HOLIDAY EXCHANGE 2019 [FIC]

‘come things only happy and whole’

Original Character/Sharky Boshaw -Pre Relationship. Deputy Rook, Sharky Boshaw, Earl Whitehorse, Original Characters

@ask-chibi-rook

This was a really fun experience with a really cool character concept! I think I scrapped like five ideas, which almost never happens. TYSM and I hope you enjoy! 

Notes: general warning for Jacob Seed who is Sir-Not-Appearing but still felt, brief non-graphic discussion of miscarriage, gentle flirting, as close as I get to fluff.

–

The circumstances are specific.

Eden’s Gate has a now unusually large population of pregnant women. The Resistance has few in the family way and explicitly no children in or around the compounds. So colour Pastor Jerome Jefferies and Father Joseph Seed surprised when they received identical messages asking them to parley a little north of Dutch in a zone they’d been habitually calling Bear Trap. Because of the bears. Twelve women who had been friends on Facebook before the Reaping started had kept to the agreement they’d made to meet up at Sally Sue’s old cabin and stay the days or weeks it took for all of them to give birth. This would have been a ridiculous thing to organise if a) every single woman involved hadn’t been previously part of a larger prepper group before making a smaller, more intimate one and b) that smaller group hadn’t been specifically for women who’d survived multiple miscarriages. 

“They’re ah, not coming down.” Some poor son of a gun has to tell Whitehorse at two am on a Thursday. They’re out in the chill, on the porch of a little house. “They’ve got four doula’s and a bunch of equipment they’d set up beforehand as well as a doctor. Marcie, that’s, uh, Walter Whit’s Marcie, says that we can shove it up out be-hinds if we want them to come down. It’s between them and God now.”

“She tell Seed that too?”

“She told Walt that.” The boy sighs. “She told Seed that he should have kept that prize winning show dog of his brother under better control as he stressed Wendy and Carlie something awful with their atonements. And that keeping any pregnant women near Faith, who she did have something unpleasant to say about as per her use of Bliss, was just about his greatest crime.”

Whitehorse snorts. “Has she seen the bodies?”

The boy holds up his fingers to make quotation marks. “That’s killing folk, not killing babies, and Seed was coming awful close to asking them to kill babies.”

“That explains the Peggies. When it came right down to it they picked their kids over the Father.” Whitehorse muses. “Would’ve been nice if they’d stood up for us. No, don’t relay that Jimmy, that’s me being an old grump. If those girls need things from us, you get it to them, alright?”

“Yessir.”

“And you,” he turns to point at Rook, tucked under a blanket on the front step with him, “go get some sleep.”

Rook points at herself, flips to the page in her small notebook that says me?

“Yeah, you. Relax Rook. Ain’t nobody around here going to need you to fix this.” 

She probably should have figured that Whitehorse would catch on. It’s been a week, maybe two, since Jess took an all terrain bike and an exhausted, largely non-responsive Rook back to the Henbane. She has marks she doesn’t remember and bigger, scarier blanks in her memory, left to white knuckle it through whatever recovery is possible. Rook spends a lot of her life kind of tired. When it’s hard to communicate you have to be quick and clear about what to say. She’s gotten it right down to essentials by now but that leaves out everything complex. There’s a lot of things sitting just behind her teeth, just behind her gums, that she’ll never have time to tell anyone. Certainly not if Joseph gets his way. 

From what she understands they are at a critical junction in Joseph’s plan. Months at most from his intended end of the world and he has been reacting with his expected fanaticism. A bunch of women trekking off into the woods should be a minor concern. All of this would be a minor concern, solved by Jacob, who had no one among the Prosperity Prepper Pregnancy Yarning Circle, but for one Miriam Lee, of John’s faithful, who led security. She’d changed the locks on any number of critical supplies and literally taken John’s secret stash of solar panels with her, leaving John to explain why he had solar panels in Joseph’s unreasonable and unlikely future, and why Miriam Lee was the only person who knew how to change all the passwords. This still wouldn’t have stopped Jacob but for Joseph, who had decided he’d had a vision and his eldest brother would be cast from paradise should he take arms against the innocent. The absurdity of that statement about that particular redhead aside it seemed the Father was dead serious. 

For all his numerous faults it seemed Joseph Seed was unwilling to harm a child. 

(Ha)

So the circumstances? Very specific.

Rook takes his advice and heads in to sleep. In her dreams places red and deadly pass and prosper, knives sharpen and music plays, a familiar voice sweet and betraying. It’s further away than usual, buffered in her dreams by smaller, stronger feelings currently unsaid. Her mind is dark, not quite unpleasant. When she wakes in the morning, just a few hours later, the Montana morning is fiercely pleasant. The weather is beginning to suggest it’s turning but it hasn’t done more than throw up some surprising afternoon wind changes. Enough that a light jacket and a scarf stashed somewhere is enough for almost any day. 

Someone knocks on the door of the small space she’s been allotted. Rook pulls on her clothes. Soft flannel, thick socks. Two shirts for those aforementioned wind changes. She makes sure she has a small notebook and pen on her. There’s a small box of blue ones under her bed here, liberated from John, so she never feels quite bad enough about how often they get snapped. The door knocks again and she rushes to open it.

On the other side Sharky Boshaw has a chipped mug of tea and a little bit of a nervous look.   

The soft feelings from her dreams return in daylight’s full glory. She waves hello, takes the mug and invites him in. Sharky takes in her messy nest of blankets, the pens scattered on the floor from her dash to answer the door and how, apart from her bed, there isn’t anywhere to sit. She can see him thinking, her own embarrassment flooding her face with colour, before Sharky kneels down and starts picking up her pens.  

“I heard from Isaiah -that prepper with all the grenades? The one the Peggies stopped going near because he set landmines attached to flamethrowers, well he’s been rehabbing a Judge. Found her ripping through Jacob’s territory baiting his people into traps. Clever as hell. He invited me up there ‘cause I brought him some beer a week or two ago and I made a bet against Hurk about it. Says she’s nearly ready to get the hell off his property on account of how she keeps activating his traps to scare the wildlife.” He pauses, glances at the ceiling while he scratches his chin. “Also I owe Hurk money.”

Rook hears all that and as usual has specific questions. She opens her book. Sharky hands her a pen. She writes: You brought a man surrounded by landmines beer?

Sharky looked faintly offended. “I ain’t afraid of fire.”

But the landmines? She asks with genuine concern.

“Landmines are fine if they’re attached to flamethrowers.” He waits a moment to see if she has anything to say to that, then adds, “Obviously I just figured out how those worked and went backwards. Easy.”

Easy, obviously.  

Sharky rubs the back of his neck. “So, wanna pet a dog?”

–

Whitehorse is a paternal combination of pleased and worried that Rook is leaving the relative safety of the Prison to pet a dog with a pyromaniac. On one hand, she’s been a mess since she came back from the Whitetails -the Whitetails that want her back pretty badly, not including Jacob- and a strong interest in doing things that involve walking outside in a relative state of peace is indicative of the good mental health she never exactly had. On the other hand Sharky Boshaw is taking her through woods not quite Resistance and not quite Peggie to pet a wolf that kills people. 

“Kills Peggies.” Sharky corrects when Whitehorse manages to stop grumbling long enough to state his problem. “And Boomer does that too.”

“Boomer is a good dog.” Someone Rook doesn’t know says from their left. “Let the girl pet a dog, Earl. It’s not the most dangerous thing she’s done for us.” 

Whitehorse makes a face she dimly recognises from her early days, when she stayed at the station all hours and didn’t so much as a glance at forming a relationship outside of work. At her one month review he’d said that he hoped that she’d one day find people here she could trust, that he hoped to be one of them, but until then he’d do his best to at least be a soft place to land. It’s months later, and there’s a war on, and his face still says that. Rook spends all her time trying to be what the Resistance needs, the person it needs. There’s not much room for being soft. 

Whitehorse relents, settles on take the shovel and gives Sharky back the rocket launcher and the nun-chucks that Whitehorse personally took out of his trailer about three months before all of this started. Sharky treats both of these gifts with a reverence that they have all learned to tolerate while living in close quarters. He also gifts Sharky with a ten minute long lecture while Rook goes and resupplies her day pack. There’s no explicit mention of her but she gets the feeling Whitehorse has been telling everyone to just be nicer, try to get her out of her shell.    

They take a car part of the way and leave it tucked in an overhang that the Peggies have yet to figure out. The way requires crossing the river and taking a circuitous route through some unallied areas. The trees are just sparse enough to let the sun bite her on the neck. The dirt is coming up off the ground at a rate that’s alarming covering them to their knees in grime and debris. The greenery sings with the sounds of small animals, cautious bird calls and absolutely no gunfire. Silence will fall all across the county for a few moments every now and then, as if the whole world is being as cautious as the birds.  

Sharky just talks and talks and talks. But he’s Sharky enough, whatever weird thing in the Drubman-Boshaw family makes them simultaneously caricatures and decent folk, to look back at her every so often and make sure she’s okay with him. Maybe it’s that he’s used to sound without answer, even if it’s from the opposite side. Maybe he’s just a guy who needs social skills and less access to nitroglycerine. 

“Whaddaya think?”

Rook hasn’t actually been listening. 

“Ah well, not important anyway.” He holds his hands out to her, baffling, before she realises he means to help her up into the knot of a tree. “Oh shit. Come look at this. Haven’t been back here in ages.” He plants himself and all but throws her up into a curvature of branches. “Man I got a twisted twunkle in this tree once.” 

Rook takes his hands. He guides her carefully among the brown bark and the sparing leaves.  

The tree itself is huge and old. It might once have been several different ones that melded together as trees sometimes do. Under her hands the bark feels warm and dry, aged away and tough. It feels alive but waiting, like it’s been here before and will be here again long after. She tries to take that feeling inside herself. Being steady and rooted instead of the constant swaying that digs deeper and deeper after every nightmare. Sharky helps, first by literally pulling her further in until they can sit on a thick branch together, and then by telling her all about the things he knows about this place. She’s not sure how much is true but it’s nice all the same. From the height, and the little raised hill the tree sits on, they can see a little bit of the space around them. The occasional smoke of a fire, or a plane flying in circles. She pulls out her radio, more habit than need, idly flicking it on and off, frequency to frequency, in case someone needs help.  

The radio speaks for a moment: -coming off the mountain-zzzt-no sign yet-zzzt-heads on a swivel A-Team, targets tricky and lean- Jacob hunting Whitetails, even in so-called peacetime.

Sharky turns it off, not soon enough to stop her sense of self crumbling at Jacob Seed’s voice, but soon enough that when he gives her a quick hug she clings to it. Sharky smells like a heavy mixture of adult male body odour, what was left of the laundry powder and wet ash. It’s pungent enough to clear her head. Sharky holds onto her for a moment or two past appropriate then slides away not quite smooth enough to be cool.   

“Hey, Rook, look at that.” He points straight out, and she assumes it’s just to change the subject, but soon enough a small dance of butterflies flies across the sky. They twirl in a circle and pass the tree close enough for Rook to see that they’re spotted with blue and bright green, creatures of the Bliss for certain. They dip down intending to take a pass right through the tree Rook and Sharky are sitting in. Sharky says oh shit just before they’re hit-

The butterflies fly around them, the whole world the colour of wings and white, before it’s the clear Montana sky again. One lands on Sharky’s nose and he pulls a face of intense disgust.

She can’t help it, she laughs at him.

He looks at her for a moment trying to figure out what the fuck she’s doing with her face. When she’s done she begins to climb down, the small bubble of mirth still sitting high, right behind her teeth. 

–

It’s just past dusk when they get there. All of the Resistance keeps odd hours. Isaiah’s house involves a hike that’s near vertical. They see signs of Peggie work as they circle closer -spray cans next to symbols on trees, a copy of Joseph’s Bible, the occasional item of clothing for some reason- but those signs thin as they get closer to the house. Instead scorch marks and gun holes pepper the land like confetti at a wedding. Rook pulls out her shovel. 

Eventually Sharky takes a sharp turn, ducks behind a thick crop of trees and leads her to a neatly kept front yard in front of a shabby barnhouse-cum-fortress. There’s even an American flag hanging from the roof of the added-on porch. Sharky whistles loud and clear across the space. After five minutes or so a man emerges.    

His thick beard and scarred hands tell a story all their own. He shuffles across the porch with a bag under his arm and a cane in his other hand. His leg acts like dead weight across the wood, scraping and scratching along. He makes an unhappy groan low in his throat. Acid burns. Isaiah never had a last name. Or if he did, he refused to give it.

“Hey, buddy.” Sharky hops over some line only he sees turns and holds out his huge hands for her small ones. Like before she hands him her trust and no small amount of affection and amusement and then they do the world’s silliest looking dance:

“Over here -that’s a trip wire, don’t hit that, good-”

“-now this’ll sound strange, two inches left with your bum or you’re gonna lose a bunch, and you’re small enough, ow, from your leg Po-Po-”

“-did you just trip? Dep, this is a real hotzone, come on-”

“-look, I know what it means when a woman makes that face at me, I’m sorry, I’m not trying to grope you, but they’re nice, so-”

“-Good, great, no, nope, that way goes Sharky’s testy festy and he needs ‘em for the Testy Festy seed swap, so come over here-

Finally they come up to the porch. Isaiah sits on his rocking chair under a blanket with ice tea next to him. His chest keeps expanding in little giggles.  Both Rook and Sharky are sweaty and breathing hard. Rook’s hair is stuck to her neck and she’s sure she’s never been this embarrassed before. No wonder the Peggies stopped trying. Sharky stops her with a solemn hand. “Okay now we’re gonna hop twice.”

She abruptly realises he’s fucking with her. Gently, with good humor, but still teasing her. She kicks a clod of dirt at him now that they’re close to the porch and reasonably unlikely to die in a fire. Isaiah makes this noise, like a cat yarking up a bird, his whole upper body moving. He’s laughing. Sharky laughs as well and proclaims he’s going to see if there’s any beer. With nothing else to do Rook climbs up onto the porch and takes a seat against the railing of his porch. Isaiah passes her a glass of the tea. He taps his own throat, the angle revealing its scars and warps, then pulls out a  pen and a board. With unpracticed fingers he writes on his own whiteboard: I heard you speak like this.

Rook nods. Isaiah nods back and returns his writing implements to their bag. Within reach but out of the way. The tea is blessedly cool against her forehead when she presses it in.   

“He-ey girl!” Sharky calls from inside the house. “Guess who found beer! You don’t have to guess, it’s me.” He sticks his head out, probably to ask if she needs something, so she holds up her half full glass. 

The Judge trots onto the porch. Her coat has been shaved down, patches still that bone terrifying white where the hair is longest, but all over are swathes of grey brindling. Her sharp blue eyes are clear as water in a face returned all the way from the Bliss. Around her foreleg a bandage is slowly turning pink from the injury beneath. She comes to rest her huge body near Isaiah but with her sightline out to the world. 

Sharky pats her cautiously then fits himself down next to Rook. “What’s her name?”

Isaiah considers. Then he opens his throat. “Boudica. Queen stayed free.” His voice isn’t clear. It’s pained and filled with the feel of disuse. He names the wolf anyway.

Boudica rolls on her back and shows her fluffy, scarred belly. 

Rook stands and shuffles closer. Her hand shakes as she brings it down, firm, on her upper chest. Boudica wriggles but stays still. Rook keeps patting. Her skin is scarred all the way up to a sharp cut right across her throat. She didn’t die. She can see it: Jacob’s knife, his music and his soldiers. Running as far and fast as you can because you can never be free but you can be away. Boudica defies that, though. Her fur is turning back from the Bliss and there’s not a hint of madness in her eyes. 

Rook returns to her seat. Isaiah gives her more tea. 

Boudica snuffles, rubs her nose with a huge paw. She picks herself up and trots through the front yard they had to dance through. Her path is noticeably straightforward. 

“What the fuck?” Sharky says.  

Isaiah laughs again. “Bad leg. Don’t have time.” He flings his hand towards Rook, the yard and possibly the entire concept of the war beyond it. 

“‘t’s not fair.” Sharky whines. “When I brought you stuff you made me strap it on my back and crawl!”

Isaiah slaps his knee, giggling again, points at Rook and then back at Sharky. “You danced.” Isaiah rubs his throat, as if it pains him. Then as if it would pain him more not to tease, “Fair.”

“I- Well-” Sharky chugs his beer instead of talking. Isaiah refills her glass to the top and bullies Sharky into pulling out Boudica’s bespoke sleeping pen, giving lie to the idea that she’d ever be coming back down with them. 

Night falls properly. They eat together. Isaiah has no room for them inside but Rook’s slept rougher and he brings out a little heater and a bottle of bourbon. Sharky unearths a pile of excellent quality sleeping bags in a shed hidden on the side. Rook watches him whine his way through the whole thing since they don’t actually know there aren’t landmines. The bourbon makes Sharky feel better, though.

He’s talking about…something, honestly she’s not sure how he transitions from topic to topic. She pulls out her notebook. She wrote it earlier in the day, never said it. Thank you, Sharky. 

He smiles, face lit by what little ambient light there is. “Ain’t no thing but a chicken wing, Rook.” 

Rook stays sober under a pile of blankets. Sharky has long since collapsed into snoring. The night is starry and silent. If she sleeps now she’ll have nightmares: falling through red rooms, black blood dripping down her mouth, her tongue returned but unable to make human noise, another layer between her and other people. Another place for someone to slide a knife. The night is starry and silent and in Hope County that will have to be enough. 

Boudica comes back in the early hours. Rook is still awake. Her muzzle is a little bloody but mostly she seems tired and pleased with herself. She comes over for a very quick pat but returns to the nest of hand sewn blankets and repurposed pillowing that she calls a bed. She tunnels in, turns and wiggles her body, huffs, sleeps.

Not his wolf, she thinks, and goes to sleep herself. She was right about the dreams. But between terror and noiseless pain is her own feet under her running like she thinks Boudica would.    

#sharky boshaw/deputy #sharky boshaw #deputy oc #earl whitehorse #oc #brief non-graphic discussion of miscarriage #gentle flirting #mild fluff #gift: fic #fc5holidayexchange #ask-chibi-rook #submission

[rainywritingsx]

Torn • BNHA X OC • Chapter 4

Whoop I’m finally back with an update! My apologies for it taking so long, school has been a real pain in the butt but I’m finally here! I hope you enjoy the chapter, and if you do feel free to leave a like ^_^ If you have any feedback, please let me know. I think that’s it? Have fun reading!

Xxx rainbow

Words: 2575

Warnings: none

Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Description: Janie Kotu is an 16 year old girl who’s the daughter of the two greatest villains in the world. As the eldest child, she’s expected to follow their footsteps once her parents decide to retire. Janie, however, does not want to be involved with that whole world at all. She wants to become a hero and save people instead of scaring and hurting them. Before she knows it, she’s leading a double life, doing her best to keep it a secret for as long as possible. But how long will that last? And what if there’s a certain group of villains that wants her to join. What if she falls in love with a villain?

A soft smile appeared on my face as I looked myself up and down on the mirror. I didn’t think I was pretty or anything, I just really liked the clothes I was wearing. It seemed like a normal tracksuit but the fact that I could wear this at the entrance exam made me so happy. At my school we even had uniforms for entrance exams, which was a bit too much if you’d ask me.

Okay, I could do this. I was going to tell my parents that I was headed to the gym with some people from school and when I got back I’d just say it wasn’t really my thing and I decided not to go anymore. That sounded alright didn’t it? I just hoped I could pull it off..

As for the theoretical part, I did as much research as I could and I made sure to put as much time in this as I could. I hoped it would be okay...

I was so glad that nobody would recognise me as villains kept the identities of their children hidden as much as they could and since my parents were the top villains... that was taken to an extreme. I guess it was the one good thing about being their child.

I grabbed my phone to check the time and gasped when I saw that it was 8:10am already. The exam would start at 8:30am! I could get at UA in 10 minutes if I took the underground and once I got there I’d have to make sure my presence was noted down and then I had to find the exam hall where it would be taken... gosh I didn’t even have time to think, I had to go now.

I quickly ran out of my room down the stairs and put on some training shoes.

“Where are you going, dear?” Mother asked. I internally sighed but managed to plaster a smile on my face as I answered her.

“I’m going to the gym to train for a bit!”

“Oh, that’s great!” Mother responded excitedly. “Good luck sweetie, you can bring your friends over afterwards if you’d like!” I yelled out a ‘thanks’ before leaving and closing the door behind me. I checked my phone. 8:12am... I had to be quick.

I almost jumped down the stairs to the underground and luckily it wasn’t that crowded. No one could get hurt in my big rush.

Or so I thought..

An “oof” sound escaped my mouth as I bumped into someone and fell to the ground, my bag falling as well and pens and pencils falling out of it. I gasped and quickly gathered my stuff, still on the ground.

“In a rush, huh?” A strange voice spoke, making me look up. It was someone, who I assumed was a guy and he was wearing a big black hoodie along with some ripped black jeans. Half of his face was covered with a mask, only his eyes being visible for me. They were... endearing for some strange reason.

His eyes were a bright turquoise that stared right into my soul, but strangely enough I didn’t feel intimidated at all. I actually felt like his eyes were comforting in a way... they were half open so i was sure that helped, hehe..

“The underground towards the UA district has arrived at lane 4B.” I gasped and shook my head as I was brought out of my thoughts. I was so so late!!

“Ah, my apologies! I really have to go, I’m super super late right now! Uhm, have a nice day!” I quickly spoke as I put the last pens in my bag before running into the metro. I had made it...

“I made it!” I accidentally said out loud as I brought my fist up in the air. I quickly put it down when I realised other people were here too. That was embarrassing... but I made it!

As soon as the metro stopped at my stop I ran out and sprinted towards UA. Sadly, I didn’t have time to examine the building again. I’d do that after the exam...

My eyes widened when I saw a UA teacher who was about to close the gate.

“S-sir Wait please!” I said loudly as I waved my hand in the air, hoping he would see me. And thank goodness, he really did. I stopped at a desk that was outside where another teacher was standing, finally able to actually catch my breath.

“I did it...” I gasped as I leaned my hands on my kneecaps.

“A pro is never late on important occasions.” A deep voice spoke making me regain my posture quickly. It was a UA teacher whom I knew was Eraserhead. His eyes were, despite his ‘lazy’ attitude, practically staring into my soul and it was making me incredibly nervous if I were honest. I gulped and quickly bowed.

“My apologies sir! I promise it won’t happen again!” I said as I squeezed my eyes shut.

“Get up quickly or you’ll be late. Give me your name.” He spoke monotonously, completely ignoring my apology. I awkwardly got back up, not daring to look at him anymore. What a great first impression.. he was going to think I was some lousy brat who just wanted to become famous.

“Kotu Janie..” I spoke and bit my lip nervously as I heard him scribbling down some things.

“Alright. Inside you will see signs leading to you the exam hall. Don’t fail.” I held back a laugh at the last remark. What a great pep talk... I politely thanked him before leaving, and I could’ve sworn I heard him mutter things about teenagers these days never being puntual.

But I didn’t have time to think about the intimidating teacher, I had to get to the exam hall quickly! This building was so big.. if it weren’t for those signs, I’d most likely had gone lost already. Regardless of the size, it was a very pretty building. Oh wait.. exam!!

“Is Kotu Janie present?” I could hear a female voice speak, making me run even faster. I almost slammed open the door, panting heavily as I raised my hand.

“P-present!” I let out as I looked at the teacher, who I immediately knew was Midnight. She was such a cool hero but her outfits were sometimes over the top in my opinion..

“Okay, you can sit over there miss Kotu.” She said as she pointed at an empty spot with her pen. I nodded and quickly looked down.

“M-My apologies for being late and barging in like that..” after saying that I heard a few suppressed giggles and soft whispers, making me feel even more embarrassed. At first I just thought it was because I was late, but then I realised they were all wearing normal clothing and here I was, in my tracksuit. This was great... But I wouldn’t see them again anyway, so it was totally fine.

I sat down and quickly took out my pens and pencils and other necessities. I could do this... I could do this...

“Okay, students. You may start now!” Midnight said before everyone quickly opened the first page of the exam, me doing the same. I quickly looked over the question and internally screamed. 100 exercises... some consisted of multiple questions.. this was great, totally great.

Wait Janie, it wasn’t like you were planning to here anyway. If I failed it would be no big deal. But still, doing my best was fun. Let’s do this, I thought to myself before reading the first question.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Everyone, put your pens down!” I sighed as I dropped my pen on the desk after writing the last answer, leaning back on my chair. That was a lot... but I managed to finish it, thank goodness. I looked around and noticed people excitedly whispering to each other about the exam. So many did this with their friends... I wish I could do that. Not like I had any friends, hehe..

“You may all go to the cafeteria now. You’ll have a break of about 45 minutes before the practical exam will start. Details about where you need to be and such are written on a big board in the cafeteria. Next to the cafeteria you will also find two dressing rooms where you can change for the exam. Good luck everyone!” Midnight said before she opened the door.

A place to change... of course they had it, why hadn’t I thought of that while I was getting ready? Now I was going to walk around like this all day. Ah, well I had 45 minutes until the practical exam so if we survived that I’d be totally fine.

I followed the crowd, hoping they knew were they were going unlike me, who was blindly going along with these people. And luckily that was indeed the case. I heard gasps as people entered the cafeteria, looking around and even seeing a few students and heroes. Most students had class right now, but a few were cancelled, hence the fact that a few students were present here.

I quietly sat down near an empty table and grabbed my lunch from my bag. I was surprised at the fact that I felt good right now. Eating on my own was a regular thing for me but UA’s air just seemed to make me feel not lonely at all. I wasn’t sure if it was because of the fact that these were all students who hadn’t gotten in or maybe it was just because the school like this. Either way I loved it.

“Hey Kotu!” A familiar voice said, making me look up. Who could it be? I turned my head to where the noise came from and my heart immediately felt at ease when I saw it was Uraraka. I smiled politely and waved at her before wanting to turn back to my meal. I noticed she was with her friends, so I thought it was best to leave her alone and not come along. That was until she spoke up again.

“Come sit with us!” I blushed when I realised people were looking at me, mostly fellow students who were here for the entrance exam. Not daring to look at all of their piercing gazes, I walked over to Uraraka, who was patting the spot next to her as a sign for me to sit down. I smiled softly and thanked her before I sat down.

“Guys, this is Kotu! Iida and I met here when we were helping at UA two weeks ago. Kotu, these are our friends, Deku, Todoroki and Tsuyu! Bakugou and those other guys you saw last time are over there,” She pointed at another table where they were sitting. A blond haired guy an another guy with black hair seemed to annoy Bakugou quite a lot because he seemed to be yelling at them...

“No need to be so formal” I giggled nervously. “Just call me by my first name, Janie.”

“So, how did your exam go?” She asked excitedly as she leaned her hand on her chin, making sure not to touch it with all of her fingers. Her pinky finger was lifted, which looked quite cute really.. it must’ve been something about her quirk. If I remembered it right she could make things float... Wait she asked me something, why hadn’t I answered yet?

“It went alright, though I was almost late hehe..” I chuckled nervously. “But we aren’t done yet. After lunch we’re doing the practical exam.” She nodded as I spke.

“Uraraka told me about what you did at the cantine.” Midoriya began, making me look down shyly. She really told peoooe about that? “That’s really cool! How does your quirk work? Can you control al fluids that exist or just some? What about ice or clouds, could you make those things into-“ he just kept on muttering making me sweatdrop.

“Sorry, he tends to mumble a lot.” Uraraka giggled making me nod.

“I see. It’s totally fine though, I get it.” I smiled softly.

“Midoriya! Don’t overwhelm a potential new student like this!” Iida said as he moved his hands, making his expressions a lot more extravagant. “She needs to stay focused on the exam that UA prepared for them. It’s probably going to be incredibly difficult and you’re being a distraction!” Midoriya stopped muttering and blushed when he realised it.

“Sorry..” he mumbled awkwardly as he looked away, causing me to laugh softly.

“It’s fine, trust me. I get it. I can answer your questions after the exam.”

“I’m pretty sure we will be in class when you’re done, though.” A girl, whose name I thought was Tsuyu, said. A small pout appeared on my face.

“Well, maybe we will cross paths again sometime. My quirk isn’t that interesting anyways.” I chuckled softly.

“But maybe you’ll get in!” Uraraka said, attempting to encourage me. Gosh, this girl was so sweet..

“Realistically speaking, if 200 people participate in this exam and 50 people are let in, chances of you pas-“

“There’s no need for those details, Iida. I’m sure she’s aware.” A guy, whose hair was half red and half white said. He had a burn scar on his left side and that’s when I realised this was Endeavor’s son... I wouldn’t consider myself a fan of him but I’d be lying if I said the things he did weren’t impressive at all.

I sent him a small smile and nodded. “I appreciate you trying to help though, Iida.” I said politely, knowing he didn’t have any bad intentions.

Time quickly passed with the 1-A students and before I knew it, the practical exam was announced through the intercom.

“This message is for all the participants of the UA entrance exam. Please get ready now, the practical exam will start in ten minutes.” I gasped and jumped up. I didn’t even know where I had to go! Ten minutes seemed like a lot, but I hadn’t been able to explore this building very well so the chances of me getting lost were high.

“I’m sorry, I should go. It was nice talking to all of you!” I said before bowing to everyone politely.

“Good luck with the exam!” Uraraka said cheerfully. “I know you can do it!” She said as she raised her fist in the air before everyone else started wishing me luck too. I smiled the widest and most genuine smile I’ve had in a while and thanked everyone before leaving to see where I had to go on the board.

The exam was taken in the same place by everyone, but we had to do roll calls first and for that we had to go to different teachers. I couldn’t help but smile when I saw I had to go to Present Mic. His energetic attitude was something I always loved and he could make people hyped up really easily.

I sighed in relief when I realised pieces of paper with directions were hung up, with arrows and the names of the teachers above them.

I took one step and that’s when I realised my legs were shaking. I had never been this nervous in my entire life..

I took a deep breath and slowly breathed out. Stay calm, Janie, I told myself as I continued walking. Here we go...

#boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha x oc #bnha fanfiction #mha x oc #mha fanfiction #bnha oc #bnha fic #mha fic #bnha #mha #midoriya izuku #todoroki shouto #uraraka ochaco #iida tenya

[heavenlydreamerblog]

In Too Deep

Hi everyone. Getting back the writing vibe and hope to post every Friday if possible. This follows on from Chapter 16 and Shannon’s post on Instagram! Keep giving me feedback on likes and dislikes. I’ll take all your comments on board. If anyone else wants tagging in future fiction, just drop me a message. And if I keep missing your tag (this does happen) let me know!

@letsbeautifuldisaster @llfd1977 @nikkitasevoli @letojokerownsme @wolfgirl624@beautorigin @jaredlxto @i-writeandread @darlingdiary87 @reikihealermary@msroxyblog @lifeonmars30 @myxtina @pixieriding @lostinletoland

Check out In Too Deep on my Wattpad account: 

https://www.wattpad.com/user/HeavenlyDreamerBlog

Chapter 17 

I froze in his arms, a dizzying feeling washing over me as he pulled me in ever closer, holding me tight to his chest. 

Instagram? What was he thinking? "Are you really sure this was a good idea Shan?" I pulled my head from his shoulder so we could at least have eye contact for this conversation. 

"You know you like your privacy. This'll blow that out of the water," I warned. "Let me see what you've posted." I made a grab for his phone but he held it out of my reach. "Shan! C'mon you must let me see... y'know it'll affect me as well as you," I pleaded, leaning across his body. He smiled, watching my arms stretching out towards his phone. His arm held me at bay. "Ask nicely and maybe ....," he teased. Then,  with a smile playing on his lips: "Or how about kiss me and I hand over my phone and the password." His eyes locked on my mine waiting for an answer. 

I let out a nervous laugh. "You drive a hard bargain Leto but you're forgetting something." I reached into my pocket for my phone. "I'm following you on Instagram Shan, remember?" I pulled away from him and keyed in my password, holding my breath. One click and Instagram popped up on my screen. I could feel my breathing slow and the dizziness return as I scrolled down the screen. And then ... there we were. The photo showed Shannon's eyes gazing into the camera with his arms wrapped around my back and his fingers splayed in my hair. You couldn't see my face and I hoped my white T-shirt was anonymous enough not to identify me. His words underneath read: ‘Guess what! Early birthday present’. 

I so desperately wanted to be mad with him but part of me melted when I saw his eyes in the photo. They were hooded and looking up into the camera lens, while his lips were buried in my hair. "It's a beautiful photo," I murmured, closing the distance between the two of us. "I love it ... I just wish maybe you'd asked me before posting." I stood on tiptoes and gently kissed the corner of his lips, running my fingers across his stubble. 

"And if I'd asked .... ?" He let the question hang in the air. "You would have said no Lexy. Anyway, I don't think anyone'll know it's you." 

But I knew this wasn't the problem we were now facing. "Shan this photo's gonna go viral and you know they'll stop at nothing to find out my identity. " I felt quite sick at the thought of the impending chaos that his post was likely to cause. "And you'll have the paparazzi on your back," I warned, rubbing my fingers across his calloused palms. "You're not making things easy for us," I sighed. 

"Look at me Lexy." He cupped my chin and raised my face to his. "You know how close I came to fucking up and losing you." I watched him search for the words to continue. "This is just my way, however crazy, of telling everyone that I'm happy with someone I care deeply about." 

He bit down on his bottom lip, looking for a response to his admission. Words weren't my strong point in these situations; instead I trailed my fingers across his neck until they tangled with his hair. "Give me space and time Shannon," I whispered. "Things .... they're complicated at the moment."   But as the words came out, I realised time was running out and that the space I needed would be hard to find. 

I could see the hurt in his eyes and it burned into me like a flame through snow. “Shan, there are things I need to sort out.” I looked at the doubt and hurt in his eyes and walked away, afraid to look back. “I’ll let myself out.” I unlocked the door and walked into the cool evening air. I felt a sob escape my lips, unable to forget the look in his eyes. How could I say the love word to Shannon when I’d allowed myself to be turned by his brother? 

 **************

I put my key in the lock and turned it, shoving open the door with my hip while balancing files in one hand and a bag of shopping in the other. 

I walked slowly, careful not to drop anything on my way into the kitchen. Jess was waiting, two glasses of red wine balanced perfectly in either hand as she watched me approach. I placed the files on the counter top and dropped the bag on the floor. I held my hand out and accepted the glass. “Thanks Jess,” I sighed, gesturing to our favourite sofa in the den. “Let’s sit down so I can think through everything.” I’d already called ahead, breaking my heart to Jess while explaining everything that had happened between myself and Shannon: the Instagram post, his feelings for me, the look of hurt on his face and me walking out on him. 

I grabbed a handful of cushions and placed them under my head, my feet on Jess’s lap. “Have you seen the Instagram post?” I asked, not sure if I wanted to hear the answer.

Jess paused and then nodded. “So what do you think? Will anyone recognise me?” Of course what I really wanted to ask was: Would Jared know it was me? 

She rubbed her hands over my feet, knowing it was a guaranteed stress reliever. “Do you want the honest truth?” I could feel  the air around me cooling, reaching out and curling its way into my veins.

“Just tell me what you think Jess ... honestly.” 

“Well ... I know it’s you because I know you’re with Shannon some of the time,” she said, reassuring me slightly. “Whether anyone else will know .... well ... I guess time will tell,” she mused. But I could tell she was holding something back. I noticed little frown lines creasing her brow and that habit she had of rubbing the skin on her lips if she was worried. 

I took a gulp of wine to calm my nerves. “OK what’s up? I can tell there’s something you’re not saying. Just spit it out.” 

Jess breathed deeply before speaking. “Jared’s called the office this afternoon and he’s been calling my phone, wanting to know where you are. Have you had any missed calls or messages from him?” she asked. “He sounded really pissed .... maybe you should call him back to sort out the problem,” she suggested, moving my feet from her lap and placing them back on the floor. “Come on. There’s no time like the present. You know what he’s like – the longer you leave it, the more pissed he’ll get.” 

So now I’ve got Shannon pissed with me because I ran out on him, unable to communicate my feelings’ and Jared’s pissed with me for reasons unknown. I rested my elbows on my knees and groaned. “Jess, why did I ever agree to take on this job with Jared? My stress levels are way off the scale.” I could feel my stomach tightening, butterflies fluttering at the thought of what was to come next.

Jess pushed herself up from the sofa and walked into the kitchen. “Is your phone in this bag on the floor Lex?” she called out. I could hear her rummaging around and then she returned, holding it out to me. “Call him, now! Find out what’s the problem and then deal with it. And Lex ...” she sat back down and pulled me into her arms. “Try a bit of self restraint and honesty. It’s four days until the party. What happens then, when you’re confronted with Jared and Shannon? You have to sort out this shit before it’s too late sweetheart.” She dragged her fingers through my hair, watching as I closed my eyes. I felt her lips brush across my cheek. “Go Lex. Phone Jared.”

**************  

I sat on my bed, phone in hand dreading the next few minutes. After a few deep breaths, I lay back on the pillows and hit the call button next to his name. 

One ring, two rings, three rings ... four rings. I was just about to hang up when the line suddenly connected. There was silence. Keep a grip Lexy, I thought, even though I could feel a sense of panic taking over me. “Ummmm ... Jared, are you there?” I asked, again met with silence. I tried to bring my breathing under control. “OK, if you’re not going to talk, I’ll hang up ...” I waited to see if this would work, more than willing to carry out my threat.

Suddenly his voice whispered down the line: “There’s something you’re not telling me Lexy. Why couldn’t I get hold of you this afternoon?” There was a pause, then he continued: “I called the office as well as Jess but nobody would say where you were. What’s the secret you’re keeping?” 

I could feel a swirling vortex in my head, my vision was clouded and every muscle tensed as I desperately fought to find a credible answer. What had Jess said about telling the truth? “Jared.” I paused for a moment, giving me time to think. “Look I know you demand a lot ... but I have a life away from this job as well you know. And that life is private. Surely you of all people can understand the need to keep some things secret.” I waited to see how he would react. There was silence again. 

Downstairs I could hear Jess clearing the kitchen, pots and pans clattering and doors opening and closing. “Jared, are you speaking to me?” I asked. All I could hear in the background was noise and I was sure a murmured conversation. “Jared, are you with someone else? Talk to me or I’ll hang up.” Still nothing. I huffed and hit the end call button. Two people could play this game, I thought. I tossed my phone on to the bedside table and waited for him to call me back. Nothing. Downstairs, the kitchen din had subsided and I could hear the creak of the stairs. Jess must be coming to bed. 

“Jess,” I called out, “Things didn’t work out. J wouldn’t talk to me.” I heard footsteps outside my door and the handle turned. “Come and talk to me Jess, for God’s sake I need someone to hold on to at the moment.” I closed my eyes and breathed. The bed dipped. “How can I deal with him Jess?” I reached out for her hand and opened my eyes. 

I’d dimmed the lights so I wasn’t dazzled but the sight made me freeze, the words drying up in my throat. Jared was sat on my bed, his blue eyes drilling into me. “Talk to me instead Lexy.” I tried sitting up but wasn’t quick enough, his hands pushing me down. 

I was trapped. I tried to move, but each time I twisted away, Jared's grip tightened on my wrists. I watched as his muscles strained against my efforts to free myself. "Just-let-me-go," I gasped, the words stammered through sobs as I gave up holding back the floodgate of tears. His grip loosened and I yanked my arms away, turning my face into the pillow, wanting to hide the tears now streaming down my reddened cheeks. I was furious that Jared could cause me to break down like this. I'd never felt so vulnerable. There was movement behind me and I felt the mattress dip further, the cool air replaced by the warmth of his body. Jared's hand returned, this time gentle and soothing, gently rubbing my back and shoulders.  

Jared's POV 

I knew I shouldn't have come back to Lexy's but I was so mad when she left so suddenly this afternoon. I've always made a point of never mixing work with pleasure - and this is the reason why. My anger got the better of me and now look what's happened. I can't bear to see what I've done which is why I'm lying here, too close for comfort considering what I've just put her through. I scoop a strand of her hair and breath in the smell of her body. "I'm sorry," I whisper. "Lexy talk to me. I hate myself for doing this to you." I feel her breathing calm and slow down but she doesn't move or make any attempt to say anything. I lie next to her, rubbing my stubble gently on her back, letting my breath leave warm trails across her bare shoulders. I desperately want to know who she was with this afternoon but I guess I'll have to wait until she's ready to talk. My lips leave soft kisses across her skin. "I'm leaving Lexy. Get some sleep and I'll see you tomorrow." 

There's so much more I want to say and so much more I want to do. I ache for her touch, for the feel of her lips on mine. I want her long legs wrapped around me; I want to drag my tongue across her soft nipples. And I want  to hear her moan as we both climax together. 

But instead, I lean over and kiss her gently on her cheek. "Goodnight baby girl."

#shannon leto #shannon leto fanfic #shannon leto fanfiction #jared leto #jared leto fan fic #jared leto fan fiction #30stm #jared leto 30stm #30stm fanfiction #shannon leto 30stm #Black Fuel #In Too Deep

[paganinpurple]

MariChat May 2018 - Day 22: The Real MariChat aka Mari and Plagg interactions

Just 1 maybe 2 left to do. Had a burst of motivation tonight so hope it continues tomorrow and I finally finish this.

MariChat May 2018

L'âge de L'amour - Days  6 / 7 / 12 / 16 / 13 / 8 / 11 / 9 / 10 / 17 / 15 / 19 / 22 / 2 / 14 / 20 / Finale

Sweet Tooth - Days  4 / 5 / 1

Other Days - 3

Buy Me A Coffee?

Marinette couldn't help but gasp as the sudden flash of light enveloped her. Despite the fact that she had been expecting it the second Chat had asked her to turn around, she had been shocked. She knew it would only take a few seconds for him to put on his new mask to protect his identity, but she was still struck by how easy it would be to turn around and catch sight of his face before he had a chance to hide - not that she ever would. He must have known it too, and yet he still trusted her implicitly. Her face felt warm yet again. Was there no end to the amount of blushing she did because of this boy?

“You can look now,” he said as the light faded out with a glow behind her and Marinette turned slowly in place, almost afraid to see him. Would the mask work? Would he still be Chat Noir or would he now be just a boy in a mask without the extra magic to keep his identity secret from her? Not for the first time she found herself wondering if she would recognise him.

As she finished turning to face him, she realised she needn't have worried. He was still Chat and not any more or less recognisable without his transformation in place. Sure, his hair was neater (was it actually a little shorter?) and he was wearing skinny jeans and a dark long-sleeved t-shirt, but really the only obvious difference was his eyes. She was so accustomed to seeing different shades of green in his eyes that the white sclera were a slight shock. She lifted her hand to run across the space beneath one of his eyes as she remained silent and awestruck. As she stared in wonder, his fingertips lifted to her face gingerly, sweeping across her check in return.

“Look, I don't want to be that person, but do you think you two could shelf this for a moment so I can get something to eat?”

She jumped in place, turning and very nearly poking Chat in the eye as he also turned his head to glare at the little black cat floating in the air beside them. Of course, she realised quickly calming down again, how could she have forgotten his Kwami?

“Okay, I lied. I don't care if I'm that person. I need food! I'm so hungry!”

Quickly getting over her reaction to seeing the little God, Marinette looked at Chat, schooling her expression into one of pretend confusion since he had no idea that she already knew what the little creature was.

“Marinette,” he said while still staring daggers at his miniature partner-in-crime and gesturing to him, “this is Plagg and he will have to make do without because I don't have any cheese with me.”

“What!?” Plagg whined, “You must have. How do you expect to get home unless I recharge?”

“Cheese?” she interrupted, sensing this might turn into a full blown argument if she didn't do something to head it off, “He needs cheese?”

“He certainly does!” Plagg said, flying over to hang in the air upside down in front of her face, “Do you have any Camembert? It's my favourite!”

“I don't think so. But there are some Gougeres downstairs. Papa made them with Emmentaler I think.”

Plagg seemed to consider it, his arm coming to rest under his chin as if he were holding his head up despite the reverse gravity of his position. “Hmmm. It'll have to do. It's not the worst type I've ever had to eat before.”

Marinette was quick to fetch him his snack in order to return to her initial idea of holding hands and whilst Plagg was preoccupied, her boyfriend took full advantage of the opportunity to explain what part he played in being Chat Noir. She listened attentively as he explained things he didn't realise she was already aware of, and she made the appropriate noises and asked the right kinds of questions to keep up the facade until he seemed satisfied he had covered everything. Meanwhile, Marinette watched the tiny cat eat and couldn't help but mentally compare the little creature to the boy sitting next to her.

Chat always loved to show his boundless enthusiasm for life on the surface but clearly hid away his pain and loneliness behind a smile. Too many times he had tried to pretend everything was fine and play the part of the jokester until Marinette would call him on it and remind him that he was allowed to be sad, and encouraged to open up a little in her company. Far too often she'd watched him trade a grin for tears as he worked through whatever was making him feel so badly.

In a similar way, it looked like Plagg was just as deceptive with his internal feelings. The way Chat spoke about him, he was usually the definition of a sour-puss – having no regard for anything more important going on in the world around him. If she believed him, all Plagg wanted was to sleep and eat and avoid any and all drama. But she suspected by the way Plagg watched her boyfriend from the corner of his eye the entire time he was supposed to be dedicated to his beloved cheese, that he cared deeply about his chosen one. Whenever Chat's explanations veered into vague stories about Plagg's mischief, she noted they often had Chat being disappointed by something as the catalyst to the tiny Gods actions. And when Chat made an off-hand comment about his after-school job his father insisted upon, she spotted Plagg rolling his eyes and immediately joining in the conversation to change the topic. Yes, the Kwami of destruction might like to play the grumpy disinterested old man, but she could see it was mostly an act to distract Chat from his own mind.

After he had eaten, Plagg joined in with their chit-chat and was quickly confirmed as good company in her mind -a fact that was clearly a surprise for Chat based on his slack-jawed appearance. Never once did she share her observations about Plagg and his behaviour, but instead she cooed over him and did her best to inflate his ego until she felt confident enough to start to ask him the real questions she was curious about without him becoming too cheeky.

“Do you purr?” she asked eventually, the tiny ancient being now sitting in the palm of her hand, while Chat rested his chin on her shoulder, arm flung around her waist in an attempt to win back her attention -movie long forgotten by both of them.

“Sure,” he said, a lot more co-operatively than she had expected based on what she had worked out about him, “for the right person.”

She watched as he made eye contact with Chat over her shoulder and she turned to try and catch his reaction as his eyes widened ridiculously behind his mask. They watched Plagg reach down and rub his face against one of Marinette's curled fingers, giving a low rumble as he did so. Giggling and redirecting her attention to the tiny kitty, she reached out with her other hand and began to scratch the top of his head with her pinkie and heard the rumble intensify. The more she scratched, the louder he seemed to become and before she knew it he was lying collapsed in a puddle in her palm, her whole hand vibrating slightly as he smiled toothily.

“Thanks, Princess,” he said, voice distorted by the rumbling as he lazily opened one eye to smirk at Chat again. She really did try but she just couldn't hold back another snicker at his antics. He really knew the best ways to rile up her boyfriend.

She felt Chat move away from her shoulder at the same moment she heard him speak, “Plagg, claws out!” and Plagg was already moving from her hand, speedily demanding that his chosen wait as he was sucked away. She turned her body around in time to see Chat become Chat again, blinking up at him in surprise. Surely he wasn't that irritated that Plagg seemed more comfortable around her than him?

“Sorry, but I don't know how often I'll be using your mask. I mean, if that's how annoying he's going to be every time then...um...sorry.” He looked sheepish and scratched at the back of his head ashamedly. A flicker of further recognition sparked in Marinette's eyes as she remembered how rashly she'd acted when Lila had been hitting on Adrien all that time ago. She smirked as all the opportunities to flip his teasing back on him suddenly occurred to her. She stood up and moved towards him. “Oh my God. Are you jealous!?” she asked eagerly.

“What? No! I don't know what you're talking about!” He looked so embarrassed. And he was so unbelievably red. Nobody blushed that hard when they were accused of something they weren't guilty of. She smirked wider.

“Oh wow. You are. You're jealous he was acting all cute with me. And that he got more attention from me than you did.”

“Okay. It's late. Ihavetogohomenow,” he sputtered out in a hurry, his words tangling into one incomprehensible noise. Instinctively she grabbed at his tail as he moved away and when he froze from the contact she wrapped her arms around him from behind, snuggling into his tensed shoulder-blades.

“Don't worry,” she told him, “You're still my favourite kitty.”

Buy Me A Coffee?

#pip writes #marichat may 2018 #l'âge de l'amour #marichat #marinette duapin-cheng #chat noir #plagg

[juliarosioru]

Guardian Angel

Hades was sitting atop a building overlooking the outskirts of the industrial sector, watching the abandoned structure directly across from it. The sun was nearing the horizon and dark clouds were forming in the distance. The mid-autumn light was turning everything copper and gold, and the windows on every building seemed to be afire. He could almost enjoy this atmosphere, if he didn’t have a mission to focus on; he was growing impatient with the whole ordeal. 

His two targets had been spotted in the area quite often in the last few weeks and were known to be part of a gang of very skilled and very dangerous reapers who were using the building as a base of operations. A kill order was issued for both of them because, as it turns out, they screwed up and have been hunting down the wrong person. 

When Algar “Sledge” Haden’s body was found a few weeks back, a certain Mr. Johnson of the high corporate type realised his trust was misplaced so he hired Hades to clean up their mess; it was a specialty of his. He wasn’t briefed on the details, nor did he care to know. His job was to eliminate them and get rid of any tracks they might have left behind, not worry about what job for what Johnson they failed to do. He wasn’t responsible for the aftermath of their fuck up either. Whoever was the poor soul they confused Sledge with needed to look somewhere else for a guardian angel.

Hook and Trinity proved to be more skilled at covering their trail than he originally thought. He’d been after them for over a month and hardly found anything about their whereabouts until then. Did they know he was after them or were they always this cautious? If only they did half as good a job at finding their actual target, he probably would have been on a different mission somewhere potentially more exotic.

Just a bit before sundown, a black van pulled up in front of the building and Hook stepped out carrying a large duffel bag. His massive troll body wobbled its way inside but the little dot on the radar corresponding to his target disappeared once he entered; just as Hades suspected, the building was shielded from any interception. He waited a bit before making his way down, following Hook stealthily inside. 

The establishment was an abandoned office complex a few stories high. The large windows were mostly cracked and stained with grime, held together by rusted metal frames. There was nothing visible from the outside in and the place had an eerie feel to it. On the inside the main corridor was dark and the air smelled heavily of mould. A few wall lamps were giving out a dim light, casting strange shadows on the old furniture left behind. Dust particles were floating in the last few rays of sunlight that made their way through the cracked windows.

Hades walked down the main hallway until it split in two. To the left and right, it continued for about twenty meters before turning again; on each side it was lined with doors and metal beams supporting the ceiling. Lamps similar to the ones in the main hall spread a weak brightness over the water-damaged walls.

A woman’s voice echoed through the corridor, coming from a room to the right. He made his way quietly towards the noise, which became louder and louder until it was almost crystal clear behind one of the metal doors. Trinity’s voice, although still muffled, was thundering at someone, inquiring about a piece of stolen tech. A pair of heavy footsteps paced around the room and there was a slight metallic click every other step; no doubt Hook was already growing impatient. Through the shouts and the clicking noise, he also heard a distinctive, quiet sob that for a second reminded him of something. The person was likely the wrong target Johnson mentioned but he couldn’t immediately remember what was so familiar about them so he put the thought out of his mind and readied his gun.

“I’m going to ask this one last time. Where is the slate?” said Trinity, her voice rising with every word.

The person she was interrogating whimpered something under its breath; the quiet sobs were immediately followed by the sound of Trinity’s hand slapping across their skin. It seemed to echo in the empty corridors outside.

“I’m growing tired of doing this. We’ve been at it for years, we’ve tracked the signal to your device, we know you have it. Why won’t you stop lying about it and tell us where you hid it”.

Another whimper, this time followed by a sound of a chair dragged across the metal floor and the thud of a body hitting the ground.

“Trin, is it possible that—”

“That what, Hook?” she snapped.

“That... maybe... we got the wrong person?”. The two-meter brute of a man seemed to be trembling before Trinity’s wrath.

“Are you joking? We had the location of Sledge’s deck for months. It’s with her, she had it. We just need to get her to talk. You still got nothing on that friend of hers?”

“Not a soul. It’s like he disappeared into thin air”

“Well wouldn’t you know, little bird” said Trinity in a sickly sweet voice. “You’re all alone. Nobody’s coming for you now. The way I see it, you only have two options: either keep your silence and die right here, right now or tell us where you hid the goddamn power slate and we let you go. You might even be able to crawl out of here for one last breath of fresh air. The choice is yours”

Hades could hear the sound of a gun being unholstered and something inside him clicked. He didn’t usually care about what feuds his targets had with other runners or who they killed in the process; if it’s not in the job description, it’s not his business. Whoever was unlucky enough to get caught in the crossfire... well, hopefully they were on their way to a better place. 

In normal circumstances, he was able to focus on the task without other distractions. He knew how to get the job done right and he did it fast. He liked the thrill of the hunt and somehow there was a sense of justice to it, even if it wasn’t necessarily always his justice. But the job paid well and that was the only thing that mattered; keeping his identity secret, erasing his past, that too came at a cost. 

This time, however, it was different. There was something about those cries that put him off and there was also this strong gut feeling telling him he should get moving soon or something bad would happen. He thought to himself that this mission must’ve caught up with him, it began to mess with his head. He took a deep breath and without hesitation, he broke open the door, taking both runners by surprise. Hook turned his massive body around, his metal leg creaking under the weight. He reached for something inside his trench coat but before he could bring his gun out, Hades shot two bullets at his chest and the thug fell on the metal floor.

Trinity had turned around and was pointing her gun at him.

“W-why are you here? We’re not done, there’s still—“ but before she could finish, he pulled the trigger once more and she collapsed lifeless next to Hook. A month of hunting them down for all of it to be over so quickly but at least now his gut would finally shut up about it and he could catch his breath. It felt like he needed another month’s worth of vacation to recover after the whole ordeal.

Just as he was about to turn and leave, he noticed the figure crouched on the ground and once again, the uneasy feeling hit him again. He hesitated for a second, staring at the person who was now trying to get up. The light was too dim to see clearly but it seemed to be a young woman. She was facing away from him, with one arm around her waist and the other propping herself up against the floor. She was coughing up blood, her arms were covered in bruises and her clothes were stained with dry blood from what looked like a poorly patched knife wound on her thigh. That was when the memory vividly came back and hit him like a freight train.    

He remembered his sister, Katarina. Years ago at his senior prom, she somehow managed to get so wasted, she lost all memory of that night and passed out on the bathroom floor. He had to be the one covering for her to their parents and nursing her out of a hangover the following day. He warned her not to drink, that she couldn’t hold it in, but the ever-rebellious Kat had to go and try proving him wrong. They laughed about it eventually and he would often think about that memory, as of many others they shared back home with their family, when life was much simpler, with less secrets. It had been years since then, since he last saw her, since he last spoke to her... He always wondered what she was up to. 

And suddenly the figure was all too familiar. He recognised the tattered hair, the hunched stance, the distinctive sob...

His heart sank to his stomach and his knees went weak. Katarina was right there in front of him, beaten and bruised, with blood smeared all over her face and hands. No longer the foolish teenage girl he left back home but a young woman who by the looks of it, was a reputable reaper herself. Through the dirt and blood he could see traces of cyber implants on her arms and neck. Still, she continued to cough blood and collapsed back on the floor. 

The thought of his own sister ending up like this was hard to swallow. He did encourage her to move to Seattle and go to university but he never thought she could have any contact with the reapers world; it wasn’t in her nature to take such a dark path. He did everything he could to keep her and their family away from that side of his life, so they wouldn’t get hurt. Yet somehow, through some sick, twisted work of fate she ended up there, exactly where she wasn’t supposed to and it wasn’t something he could fix so easily. How did she even get herself confused with Sledge? Unless... 

So many questions poured through his mind but he didn’t have time to continue his thoughts. Katarina could have woken up any minute and it was only a matter of time before she would see him and start asking questions again. Still, his blood was boiling at the thought of someone having brought her in that state and he began to regret letting Trinity and Hook get away with it so easily. She could very well be on the verge of death and there was not a damn thing he could do about it.

You know the rules, Enzo. You can’t get involved” said a little voice in his head; the words were firm. “No matter what, you can’t help her. Just walk away”. His eyes began to well up. He muffled a sigh and bit down his tongue. He wanted to scream and punch a wall but he couldn’t do that either. She couldn’t know he was there. “Walk away, Enzo. If you want her to be safe, if you want her to have whatever chance she has left to survive, leave right now”.

It took all his strength to rip himself away and walk back out into the hallway, stumbling in his feet. After a few steps he leaned against the cold wall and let himself slide down on the floor, taking his mask off. With a heavy heart, he began to weep quietly in the fold of his sleeve, like a little boy angry at how unfair the world is, and felt how a big knot formed in his chest, aching more and more with each sigh. Everything he did until then was to keep her away from other runners, yet somehow she still got caught up in their stupid plans. He only pushed her away for her own good, so the dangerous people around him wouldn’t try to use her against him or cause her harm because of the things he’d done. It turned out it was all for nothing. How did she even become a runner in the first place? And most importantly, why?

The last message he sent her was just a couple of weeks ago when she was getting dangerously close to finding out about him and his job as an assassin. He’d kept a low profile, erasing his tracks everywhere he went and having all his information under very high security encryption but Kat was a fast learner and she managed to keep him on his toes. Secretly, he enjoyed the hunt; it meant that she was okay and kept herself busy. He couldn’t afford to bargain with her life though so he had to make the tough decision of disappearing completely off the grid, leaving her nothing but a message on her terminal: “If you know what’s good for you, stay the hell away from me”. 

He never intended to sound so cruel or hurt her feelings and he was sure that after giving her the cold shoulder for all those years, that message obliterated any ounce of trust and sympathy she still had for him. But it was a price he was willing to pay if it meant it kept her alive. In his line of work, staying close to his family and friends was dangerous and until he found a way of protecting everyone, he had to make sure Katarina hated him enough to not want to look for him anymore.

But all of that seemed pointless. She was beaten and bruised, fighting for her life and he couldn’t do a damn thing about it without raising more suspicion. She would die there, in a cold dark room all alone, and the last thing he would have said to her was to stay the hell away from him.

The knot in his chest tightened even more and it was almost impossible for him to breathe normally. He wouldn’t be able to live with the guilt if she died. The simple thought of it made his stomach sink. But if he helped her in any way, if she found out about him surely Johnson would send another runner to clean his mess too and eliminate both of them. No matter how he looked at it, he couldn’t win.

A small beep interrupted his train of thought and Hades saw a sliver of hope. From the inside out, his radar was picking up a signal and a new dot appeared on the screen, fast approaching his location. He quickly put his mask back on and ran outside, his chest and legs still feeling heavy. He had to make sure his instincts were right once more. 

He didn’t have time to go back to the building across the street so he propelled himself up on the abandoned complex and readied his weapon. The dot was getting closer and closer and through the scope of his rifle he recognised the vehicle: an old van, covered in different shades of cream and brown paint, scratched and dented in places. Ronin was undoubtedly looking for Katarina as well. But with the invisible field blocking her signal, he would surely miss it. He didn’t have much time.

Hades looked around for an antenna or generator of sorts, something artisanal that Hook’s stubby fingers put together in a rush. Ronin was almost there and his heart was pounding faster and faster under the pressure. He saw a small machine a few feet away from him, emitting a low pitched noise. It didn’t look like it belonged there and without second guessing it, he propped his rifle and sent a few bursts towards the whole contraption. With a crackling noise and a few sparks, the humming stopped and another small dot appeared on the radar, coinciding with Katarina’s location. 

Going back to the ledge of the rooftop, he watched how Ronin just passed the building before slamming the breaks. The van slid for a few meters with a screeching noise before turning back around.

Making sure he was not seen, Hades watched Ronin park the van hastily and rush inside the building, no gun or any sort of weapon at the ready whatsoever. In the few months he kept tabs on the guy, he wondered how he managed to survive until then.

It was already dusk outside and the area was poorly lit but he could make out the two figures coming out of the building moments later. He let a sigh of relief escape his lungs and his chest felt a bit lighter seeing his sister being carried away to safety. It was still painful to watch her bruised like that and the memory would stick with him for a very long time but at least she’d survive. 

He took out his phone and dialled Mr. Johnson’s contact number. 

“Ah, Hades. I’ve been expecting you. Is it done?”

“Yes, the targets have been taken care of but there’s been a small development. Where can we meet?”

#cyberpunk #short story #scif #wiriting #creative writing #prose

[artistic-writer]

Between Now and Nether :: Ch 9 :: A CS AU

Title: Between Now and Nether by @artistic-writer  [full res fanart]

Summary: On their way to a Nolan Charity Gala, tragedy befalls Emma and Killian who is given just seven days to set things right.  Can he make Emma believe and escape the Nether before he is lost forever?

Rating: T+

AO3 Chapters: [1] - [2] - [3] - [4] - [5] - [6] - [7] - [8] - [9] Fanart Full Resolution: [1] - [2] - [3] - [4] - [5] - [6] - [7] - [8] - [9]

A/N: I know this is another chapter with no CS, but its only this one more, and it’s relevant to the story!

Future updates will be Sundays AND Thursdays! (providing I can get the art made in time)

Huge thanks to @hollyethecurious @kmomof4 @winterbaby89 @rouhn  and @wordsmith-storyweaver for your advice and suggestions.  This fic would just be so much worse without you guys! <3  Especially, @hollyethecurious who LOVES listening to me waffle on about whats going to happen just so i can get a gif reaction from her ;)

Taglist: @mariakov81 @rouhn @resident-of-storybrooke @hookedonapirate  @kmomof4@galadriel26 @yellow-bugs-and-pirate-ships @the-captains-ayebrows  @yayimallamaagain @i-nvr-wrote-it @takhisismb @officerrogerss  @kiwistreetswan @distant-rose  @aye-captn@wellhellotragic  @depechemode75

If you would like to be added please let me know for ch 10!

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Graham didn’t remember when he had acquired Killian Jones’ case.  He had the strangest dream a few days ago and when he had walked into the office the next day, his name was scrawled in someone else’s handwriting next to the case number.  When he had questioned how his name had appeared next to the most high profile case on the board, his colleague had simply laughed at him and slapped him on the shoulder playfully, telling him with a smirk that if he didn’t recognise his own handwriting, then maybe he wasn’t the man for the job.

Captain Lucas had even congratulated him on the lead he had discovered.  That he remembered.  One of his informants had spilled the beans for a very small price, telling Graham about Jefferson, the small time everything man with an even smaller fee.  The man was deplorable.  He would do anything for anything, and he always seemed to have a way of disappearing down a rabbit hole when the cops were closing in.

That was, until Graham had uncovered his weakness.  Jefferson had a daughter and would do everything within his power to keep her safely away from the world he lived in.  So when Graham had suggested his informant spread the word that Jefferson’s daughter might be inexplicably tossed back into the foster care system, if he didn’t hand himself in, where she would undoubtedly follow in her old man’s footsteps, it hadn’t taken the vagabond long to turn himself in.  And all it had cost Graham was a second greasy burger because apparently he had caught his informant hungry.

When Graham got the call to come to the front desk that afternoon, he wasn’t sure what had been said around the streets, but he was sure it was his informant’s ability to spin a tall tale that had made Jefferson surrender so quickly.  When he rounded the corner of the staircase and stepped into the much louder, bustling precinct lobby, Graham instantly recognised the hunched figure at the desk.  Jefferson was clearly nervous, his grubby hands shaking between the handcuffs strapped to his wrists and his leg bouncing up and down in a steady rhythm that clearly had absolutely no calming effect whatsoever.

“Jefferson,” Graham shouted over the rabble, making the man jump with a hand to his shoulder.

“Detective Humbert,” Jefferson replied quickly, standing immediately and letting Graham steer him along a long, white washed hallway by the elbow.  “I got your message.”

A small smile crept upon Graham’s lips as he pushed one of the interrogation room doors open and motioned Jefferson inside.  “Which message was that?”  

Jefferson shuffled towards the metal table.  Two identical metal chairs were positioned on either side and he sank down into one, his handcuff chain rattling against the surface of the table with his shaking.  “You know, the message.”

Graham pulled one of the chairs out, the scraping noise echoing in the empty room, before he sat down too, leaning back and folding his arms over his chest.  He pursed his bottom lip and shook his head, feigning ignorance.  There were a few times when a cop had to cross a line, but you never admitted it, especially in an interrogation room.  “Message?”

Jefferson pointed at him with a brown toothed grin, his unkempt mess of dark brown hair hanging almost to his shoulders.  He winked at Graham, tapping the side of his nose.  “Oh, I get it,” he shuffled closer to the table, leaning closer to Graham,  “Our little secret.”

Graham licked his lips and sighed.  The man was a mess, a twitching shell of a man who looked like he was trying to have three or four conversations at once, his face constantly contorting into different expressions and his ears perking up at nothing.  There was a reason they called Jefferson the Mad Hatter.  

“Are you high?” Graham asked him, lacing his fingers together and resting them onto the cool, metal surface between them.  “Because you know I can’t take anything you say as truth if you are.”

“No,” Jefferson said slowly, looking up at Graham sheepishly.

“Because if you are, what would your daughter think?” Graham looked at Jefferson disappointed.

“No, no, no, no,” Jefferson muttered quickly, shaking his head as if to try and rid himself of the voices that resided there.  “I’m not, I promise.”

“Good,” Graham leaned back once more, folding his arms and staring into Jefferson with a seriousness the man recognised well.  As mousy and feeble as Graham seemed to everyone, he was a cop who could get things done and in some cases, all he had to do was stare a perp out.  “I wouldn’t want you to let Grace down.”

Jefferson stopped his leg twitching, stilling it under the table at his daughter’s name.  The whole sentence had a double meaning, one that had been indicated to him clearly on the streets, and Jefferson would rather spend the rest of his life in jail than see anything happen to his daughter.  He had already lost her once, sucked into the underworld of drugs and unable to claw his way free, she had been taken from him.  The last time he crossed Humbert, he had lost his once monthly visitation rights.

“I won’t,” He said sadly, wringing his dirty hands together as a tear escaped from his eye and his breathing quickened.

“You’re doing the right thing,” Graham offered softly.  He might be tricking the man into a confession, but it was the right thing to do.  Jefferson had pulled the trigger that night, killing his fellow detective in cold blood, and they both knew it.

“You promise she will be safe,” Jefferson sniffed, looking up to Graham with a watery gaze.  A tear streaked down his face and cleaned a path through the grime that had layered his skin from sleeping on the streets for so long.  Jefferson tugged the the hem of his hoodie sleeve, tiny dark brown flecks of Killian’s blood still haunting him every time he saw them in the fabric.

“You know I will,” Graham told him.

“I did it,” Jefferson sighed, the words leaving his mouth on a whimper that felt like such a relief.

“Did what, Jefferson?” Graham leaned forward, flattening his palms to the table. 

“I killed him,” Jefferson sniffed pathetically, wiping the back of his bunched hands under his eyes.  His leg had restarted its bouncing under the table and the handcuff chain rattled against the metal surface once more.

“Who did you kill, Jefferson?” Graham prodded.  He had read somewhere that the use of a perps name encouraged a more heartfelt connection, making their confession easier.  

Jefferson paused, rolling his bottom lip between his teeth and looking around the room.  It was dark, only lit over the table where they sat and the walls a concrete grey.  It seemed cold, vacant and Jefferson wondered if that was what prison was like.  “I’m doing this for Grace,” he whimpered, his sobs making his entire body jolt forward.

“You’re a good father, Jefferson,” Graham said sincerely.  

It wasn’t a total lie.  Despite all of his shortcomings and transgressions, Jefferson had never once done anything to jeopardize the safety of his daughter.  He had led his entire criminal life with her in mind, stealing to buy her things that she needed, providing for her with the only means he knew how.  At some point, his life had spiraled into bigger crime, heists, and blackmail, and Grace had shifted from being his reason for his weakness.  Graham had helped him get her away from it all, into the foster system and into a great family.

“You think?” Jefferson laughed, swallowing hard.

“I know,” Graham offered him a weak smile.  There was nothing that made you a better parent than sacrifice for your child.  “So come on,” he encouraged.  “Who did you kill?”

Jefferson inhaled hard, letting out a breath on an audible sigh that sounded like he had reached peace.  “Killian Jones,” he said stiffly.  “I killed Detective Killian Jones.  Shot him dead outside of his home with a stolen 9mm Vector pistol.”

Graham felt a shiver at Jefferson’s confession.  Whilst he knew he had done it, it was something else to hear the details that only the police report had come out of the man’s mouth.  The type of pistol was never divulged to the public through the news and only the shooter would have known that.

“Serial numbers filed off, of course,” Jefferson quirked his eyebrow and looked down at his hands again.  “His blood is still on my sleeves here,” he offered his cuffed hands to Graham who looked over the dried flecks with a frown.

“So why you?”

Jefferson looked up and gulped hard.  “I owe people.  I owed Gold.”

“Lots of people owe Gold,” Graham said flippantly.  He pointed at Jefferson with a menacing finger.  “Why you specifically?”

“I’m a nobody,” Jefferson shrugged.  “I am expendable. I have weaknesses.  I have my price.  Pick your reason! I suppose I was the perfect fit to off a dirty cop.”

“Killian Jones wasn’t dirty,” Graham said gruffly, balling his fist on the table in front of him.

“Are you sure?  Rumour has it he was following in big brother's footsteps.”

Graham ran his tongue over the back of his teeth.  Whilst he had never met the oldest Jones brother, he had heard stories of the die hard cop willing to do anything to get the job done.  Liam Jones was tough, rugged and had a personal vendetta against Gold which made him a lot of friends in very dark, but high, places.  If he wasn’t dirty, Graham would have been surprised.

“Why did you do it?” He asked softly, redirecting his question that had so far got him no answer he could use in a court of law.

“Hyde threatened my daughter,” Jefferson cried again, fresh tears welling in his eyes.

“Hyde?” Graham sounded disappointed for a second.  He had expected Jefferson to say more about Gold and Liam Jones, but it was close enough.

Jefferson nodded.  “That piece of shit works for Gold you know.”  Graham nodded his agreement.  Everyone knew who Hyde worked for and who protected him from being touched by any law enforcement agency.  “Said if I didn’t kill Jones and disappear into one of my little rabbit holes, Grace would suffer.”  Jefferson couldn’t stop the hot tears stinging his face as he thought about what might have happened to his daughter.  “He said he would make sure I never knew where she was buried.”

“Okay,” Graham stopped Jefferson’s tirade and encouraged him to calm down by pausing.  Jefferson was clearly agitated and for a second Graham felt guilty he had suggested the foster care mishap that would have meant Grace got sent back to a care home.  

“You can make sure she is safe,” Jefferson said defiantly.  “You can make sure they never find her,” Jefferson sniffed.  “Right?  That’s what you promise.  That’s why I am here.”

“Look, Jefferson,” Graham began, leaning over and uncuffing Jefferson’s hands.  The man wasn’t a threat in this room and Graham figured with what was to come, the guy deserved a break.  “I know you are not a bad guy.  You have just been dealt the worst hand, right?”

“Right,” Jefferson agreed tearfully, rubbing at his wrists.

“I can get Grace into witness protection, but only if you think you can help me get to Gold.”  Jefferson stopped his leg jig under the table once more, his face paling.  Graham wasn’t sure if it was fear or something else, but Jefferson knew something that terrified him.  “Do you think you can do that?”

“What will happen to me?” Jefferson looked up at Graham again and he could tell that he didn’t really care.  All the man cared about was his daughter, so his question puzzled Graham who frowned.

“Well, you killed a cop,” Graham said matter of factly.  “People will want to see you pay, but I will make sure you get leniency for your help.”

“No death penalty?”  Jefferson asked hopefully.

“No death penalty,” Graham promised.  “And Grace safe.  With a family who will know nothing about you or her past.”

“Will I ever see her again?” Jefferson’s voice cracked and he wrapped his arms around his body, hugging his arms as his breath hitched in his throat.  Graham looked away sadly.

“Probably not.”

“Good,” Jefferson said and turned away, staring at the corner of the room.  “All I bring her is hurt.  She’s better off without me.”

Graham watched Jefferson claw at the skin on the back of his hands, clearly a nervous habit that had previously left scars.  His nails raked over the ridges of flesh like it was nothing, hands quivering, blackened nails white because of how hard he was pressing.  Graham caught his attention again, this time by sliding a pad of yellow lined paper across the desk, a black pen resting on the page in front of him.

“I need you to write it down.  Your confession,” Graham told him gently.  Jefferson looked up at him, eyes red and puffy.

“There is more to the death of your Detective Jones,” He said as he grabbed the pen and began scribbling on the paper.  “Both of them.  It’s bigger than you know.”

#between now and nether #ch9 #artistic-writer #cs ff #cs au #cs au ff #cs fanfic #angst #mystery #cs halloweek

[redkiteradio]

10 Things Steve Jobs Can Teach Us About best piano keyboard for beginners

Correction Appended

On an album of bittersweet childrens tunes that she wrote over a decade back, the girl who arrived to be recognised only as being the piano teacher presented what, in hindsight, looks like an eerie glimpse of her very own foreseeable future.

Im moving away currently to a spot so distant, where nobody is aware of my title, she wrote within the lyrics of a tune identified as Shifting.

When she wrote that song, she was youthful and vivacious, a piano Trainer and freelance new music author who cherished Beethoven and jazz, sunsets and river Appears, very long walks and every thing about Big apple.

On a type of beloved walks, by means of Central Park in the brilliant Solar of the June working day in 1996, a homeless drifter defeat her and made an effort to rape her, leaving her clinging to life. Once the assault, the words to her song arrived real. She moved away, out of Ny city, outside of her aged existence, and all but her closest pals didn't know her identify. To the remainder of the environment, she was — just like the additional famed jogger attacked in Central Park 7 yrs previously — an nameless image of the city nightmare. She was the piano teacher.

Now, about the tenth anniversary of your assault, she is celebrating what seems to be her comprehensive Restoration from brain trauma. She's 42, married, with a small little one. She is Kyle Kevorkian McCann, the piano Trainer, and she or he desires to inform her story, her way.

Her medical professional explained to her it would acquire 10 years to Get better, and Sunday was that talismanic anniversary. I feel my lifestyle has been redefined by Central Park, she stated a number of days ago, her voice comfortable and hopeful. In advance of park; soon after park. Will there ever certainly be a time when I dont Believe, Oh, this is the tenth anniversary, the 11th anniversary?

She spoke in her modest ranch property inside a wooded subdivision in a Ny suburb. She sat inside a eating home strewn with toys, surrounded by images of her cherubic, darkish-haired 2-yr-previous daughter. A Steinway grand stuffed fifty percent the home, and at just one issue she sat down and played. Her playing was forceful, but she appeared ashamed to Participate in quite a lot of bars, and shrugged, rather then answering, when questioned the identify with the piece. She requested that her daughter and her city not be named.

She calls that day, June 4, 1996, the working day After i was harm.

Hers was the primary in a string of attacks by the exact same gentleman on four Girls in excess of 8 times. The last target, Evelyn Alvarez, 65, was crushed to death as she opened her Park Avenue dry-cleaning shop, and ultimately, the assailant, John J. Royster, was convicted of murder and sentenced to life in jail.

Still the assault around the piano Instructor may be the just one individuals appear to be to recollect probably the most. Portion of the fascination must do with echoes on the 1989 attack around the Central Park jogger. But Furthermore, it frightened men and women in a means the attack about the jogger didn't simply because its situation had been so mundane.

It didn't happen in a very remote Section of the park late during the night time, but near a favorite playground at three within the afternoon. It might have took place to any one. The strain was heightened from the secret of your piano instructors identity.

For three days, as law enforcement and Medical practitioners tried using to discover who she was, she lay in the coma in her medical center mattress, nameless. Her dad and mom ended up on getaway and her boyfriend, also a musician, was in Europe, on tour. Finally, one of her learners recognized a law enforcement sketch and was in a position to determine her while in the clinic by her fingers, since her facial area was swollen past recognition. The police didn't launch her identify.

The last thing she remembers about June four, 1996, is offering a lesson in her studio apartment on West 57th Street, then putting her extensive hair inside of a ponytail and heading out for just a wander. She does not keep in mind the attack, Even though she has heard the accounts in the police and prosecutors.

To me its just like a point I figured out and memorized, she stated. Just as if I ended up a college student in class studying record.

She won't think of The person who did it. I may have been offended for just a instant, although not a lot longer than that, she explained. How could I be indignant at John Royster? He was declared not crazy, but I guess by our standards he was.

Dr. Jamshid Ghajar, her medical professional at New York Clinic-Cornell Medical Center, as it was known in 1996, explained to reporters that she experienced a 10 p.c prospect of survival. Medical practitioners experienced to eliminate her forehead bone, which was afterwards changed, to produce home for her swelling Mind. When her mother built a public appeal to pray for my daughter, thousands did.

Right after 8 days, she came outside of a coma, 1st in the vegetative point out, then in a very childlike point out. As she recovered, she slept minor and talked continuously, at times in gibberish. I used to be obtaining mad at people today every time they didnt reply to these phrases, she explained.

Like an Alzheimers affected individual, she had minimal short-time period memory and would ignore visitors as soon as they left the home.

In excess of quite a few months, she had to relearn ways to wander, gown, examine and produce. Her boyfriend, Tony Scherr, frequented on a daily basis to Perform guitar for her. He encouraged her to Perform the piano, against the advice of her Bodily therapists, who believed she could well be disappointed by her inability to play the way in which she at the time experienced. Mr. Scherr played Beatles duets together with her, enjoying the left-hand part while she played the best.

Which was my finest therapy, she said.

In August, she moved again house to New Jersey, together with her father, an engineer, and mom, a schoolteacher. She frequented old haunts and known as good friends, striving to restore her shattered memory. I had been incredibly obsessive about remembering, she claimed. Any memory loss was to me an indication of abnormality or deficit.

Her therapists thought her progress was fantastic, but her two sisters protested that she wasn't the deep thinker she had been.

What bothered her most was that she experienced dropped the opportunity to cry, like a faucet inside of her brain were turned off. Just one night, 9 months soon after she was harm, she stayed up late to view the John Grisham Film A Time for you to Get rid of. Just right after her father had long gone to mattress, she watched a courtroom scene of Samuel Jacksons character on trial for killing two Males who had raped his younger daughter.

The faucet opened, along with the tears trickled down her cheeks. I considered my moms and dads, my father, and the things they went via, she stated. Small by minimal, my emotion returned, my depth of intellect returned.

Urged by her sisters, she went again to highschool and got a masters diploma in tunes schooling.

Not all the things went nicely. She and Mr. Scherr break up up five years after the attack, although they continue to be good friends. She dated other Adult men, but she usually informed them with regard to the assault straight away — she could not aid it, she reported — and so they never termed to get a second date.

We've got to seek out you someone, her Good friend David Phelps, a guitar participant, reported four many years ago, just before introducing her to Liam McCann, a pc technician and amateur drummer. For the moment, she did not say something regarding the attack until eventually she obtained to find out Mr. McCann, and then when she did, he admired her toughness.

Mayor Rudolph W. Giuliani, who experienced normally visited her at her bedside even though she was inside the hospital, married them in his Occasions Sq. Business office. She wore a blue gown and pearls. Whilst she was pregnant, inside of a burst of creative imagination, she and her friends recorded When Had been Youthful, an album of childrens tunes that she experienced written prior to the attack, including the tune Moving. Her ex-boyfriend, Mr. Scherr, generated the CD. On it, her partner performs drums and she performs electrical piano.

Is her existence as it had been? Not just, though she is unwilling to attribute the variances to her injuries. Her last two piano pupils remaining her, without the need of contacting to elucidate why, she stated. She has resumed enjoying classical audio, but straightforward items, for the reason that her daughter doesn't give her time to observe. As for jazz, I dont even consider, she explained.

She would like to generate much more, sensation stranded within the suburbs, but she is well rattled. She tries to be content with being property and caring for her daughter.

Dr. Ghajar, a medical professor of neurological surgery at exactly what is now named Ny-Presbyterian Clinic/Weill Cornell Medical Centre, who operated on Ms. Kevorkian McCann following the attack, mentioned final 7 days that her volume of recovery was unusual. Shes generally standard, he claimed.

Other specialists, who're not Individually familiar with Ms. Kevorkian McCanns situation, are more careful.

Regaining the chance to Participate in the piano may well contain an Practically mechanical system, a semiautomatic recall of what the fingers really need to do, mentioned Dr. Yehuda Ben-Yishay, a professor of medical rehabilitation drugs at New York College School of Medicine. When brain-injured, you will be generally brain-injured, For the remainder of your life, Dr. Ben-Yishay claimed. There isn't any heal, There's only intense compensation.

The more telling Section of a Restoration, in his view, is psychological, and on that score he counts Ms. Kevorkian McCanns marriage and little one as an important victory.

For her portion, the piano teacher is aware of she has improved, but she has built her peace with it. I was type of a hyper —— I dont know if I used to be a Type A, but I was ambitious, she states. Why was I so bold? I was a piano teacher. I dont know very well what the ambition was about. I actually did return to the person Im alleged to be.

[we-say-nosoro]

Angel

When Riko chooses to spend time on Earth, the first person who talks to her happens to think of herself as a fallen angel.

Pairing: YohaRiko

Words: 1748

“You're interested in going down there?” Kanan asks. Riko nods her head. She is sitting on the edge of a cloud with her back turned to Kanan, swinging her legs.

“I want to see what everybody down there is like.”

Kanan hums in thought. She goes to sit beside Riko, who is staring curiously down at the town below them. There are many bright lights gleaming like stars in the darkness of the night. The sea is also there, and Riko can only just hear the crashes of the waves as they hit the wall separating the beach from the road. The human world is busy; different to the place where the angels live.

“I might let you, but you'll have to live as a human during your time there, until you decide to come back up, if ever.”

“I know.”

Shuffling in closer, Kanan lays a hand on Riko's thigh. “And You and Chika will miss you.”

“I know.”

“I guess it can't be helped.” Kanan stands up, sighing. “It would be best if you don't make any bonds down there. If you want to come back, I'll need to erase all their memories of you.”

Riko pauses. She knows that she'd be hurting people, but yet...

“I still want to go down there.”

There's nothing more to be said. She requests for Kanan to explain everything to her friends, and Kanan dresses her up in clothes more suitable for humans, or so she says. The dress is a knee-length white one, with short sleeves. Of course she'll stand out amongst everybody else who are wrapped in coats and scarves, but they can't do anything else about it.

“We'll be watching you,” Kanan says with a fond smile on her face.

“Thank you.” And Riko jumps off the cloud, gradually disappearing from her friends' sight.

She lands on her feet on the pavement. Luckily, nobody is around to witness her jump from the sky. It is cold, she notices. She rubs her hands together, searching for any humans or lights that could help her around. But this late in the night, there aren't any people out in a small town like this. Eventually, she chooses to sit on the concrete floor outside a large building which appears to be a school, and she goes to sleep.

The next morning, she wakes up a little while before students begin to arrive. None of them take any notice of her, as they are too engrossed in their own conversations. She doesn't want to interrupt them to ask for help, either. The crowd gradually begins to clear, and the bells rings, signalling the start of school. Riko stands up, brushing herself off. However, somebody comes sprinting down the road, panting.

“Sorry, I'm going to be late again!” The girl cries as she almost crashes into Riko, who instinctively grabs her arm to stop her.

“Let me go! I'll be on cleanup duty if I'm late, and fallen angels do not like cleaning!”

“Wait, what?” Riko suddenly asks after hearing the words fallen angel. The girl slaps her hands over her own mouth.

“Whoops, I shouldn't have given away my identity.” Her voice is muffled, so she removes her hands, getting into a dramatic pose. “But since you now know, I can't just keep it a secret! I am Yohane, the fallen angel!”

At this point, Riko cannot believe what she is hearing. She blinks once, twice to make sure she isn't dreaming.

“You're... an angel...?”

“Yohane” grins. “Yes, you are the first person who believes me and hasn't turned me away in disgust!” She clamps her hands down onto Riko's shoulders, who still has no idea how to react.

“Forget school for now! Come with me!” Without any hesitation, she grabs Riko's arm and starts to run down the road, pulling her confused companion with her.

They arrive at Yohane's house. Riko collapses onto the bed, completely exhausted. Yohane is sifting through her wardrobe, which is full of dark clothes and frilly gothic dresses. Riko takes the time to look around the room. The walls are of a deep blue, and there's a few candles and a small pentagram lying on the dresser. A camcorder stands to the side of it.

“Why did you bring me here?” She stutters, trying to get her breath back.

“I have a lot to show you, little demon.”

---

For the next couple of hours, Yohane shows Riko her belongings, explaining excitedly what she does with each item. She looks so joyful to have found a friend that Riko doesn't have the heart to tell her that fallen angels from Hell don't exist. Angels are never sent to the human world from Hell.

“By the way,” Yohane suddenly states, “Why are you dressed like that? It looks too pure, and too... light to be worn in the middle of winter.”

“Huh?” Riko glances down at her dress. It really is too cold for it to be worn, but she hasn't been able to find a coat or other warm clothes to wear. She wonders if she should tell Yohane the truth. After all, she believes in angels, so it wouldn't hurt. She takes a deep breath.

“It's because I'm not human.”

Yohane laughs. “Of course you're not. You're one of my little demons.”

“No,” she says firmly, which causes Yohane to immediately fall silent at her serious tone. This is the sign that she should begin to talk. So she does. She tells her entire story to Yohane, the entire time wondering what she'll think of her when she is done. When she finally concludes her story, she looks up to see Yohane with her eyes cast down towards the ground.

“Are you okay?” Riko asks, concerned.

“Yeah.” Yohane lifts her head up. “To tell you the truth, I'm not a fallen angel, as much as I like to say I am. My real name is Yoshiko, and I long to be special in some way because I'm sick of being so normal.”

This confession catches Riko off guard. She can clearly see how Yohane, actually Yoshiko, feels about herself. She pats her shoulder, smiling warmly.

“Don't worry. I'll always see you as a fallen angel, if that's what you want... Yocchan.”

Yoshiko's eyes widen in surprise, quickly filling with tears.

“You mean it?”

Riko nods to tell her that she is sincere. There's a silence, and Yoshiko leaps on top of her, enveloping her in a hug.

“Thank you so much... Lily.”

---

The next few months pass by quickly. Yoshiko confesses her love to Riko one night when they go stargazing together, and Riko happily accepts. Everything feels like a dream to both of them. They go out together often, Yoshiko showing her girlfriend everything there is to do in the human world, and Riko helps her to pick out new gothic outfits and cute accessories, and she treasures each of them.

It's the middle of summer, and Riko wakes up to find a note beside her bed. She recognises the handwriting; it belongs to Kanan. Making sure that Yoshiko won't hear her, she tiptoes down to the bathroom, and locks herself inside so she can read it.

Riko, We can see just how much fun you're having down there, and we honestly couldn't be happier. But, all good things must come to an end. I was recently informed by our leader, Mari, that angels aren't allowed to go to Earth and form strong bonds with people there, especially for extended periods of time. Tonight, at the stroke of midnight, you'll have to come back up here, and say goodbye to your girlfriend. We will also have to erase all her memories of you, just like I warned before. I'm sorry about this. -Kanan

Riko's grip on the letter tightens. She begins to tremble. She doesn't want to leave Yoshiko, but there's no other choice. She sits on the toilet lid, and brings her knees up to her chest, burying her head in them. There's a knock on the door.

“Lily, I need to use the toilet.”

So she opens the door, and walks out, not looking Yoshiko in the eyes. She heads up to the bedroom, where all of the ornaments and accessories that they bought together are on display. After a while of thinking, she decides that she won't say anything about her departure.

---

It's 11pm. Yoshiko is asleep after they both watched a movie together, Riko making the most of the time she has left with her. She gets out a piece of paper and a pen, and begins to write.

Dear Yocchan, You won't remember who I am by the time you read this, but I'll still say this anyway. It's hard for me to say goodbye to somebody who I've gotten so close to, but I have to do it. I am an angel named Riko, who chose to come down to Earth to make friends, and it was you who I fell in love with. I have been asked to go back to where I came from to be with all of the other angels again. I wanted to spend more time with you, but I don't regret anything. Yocchan, please look around your room at all of the things you bought over the past few months, as you bought them with me. And of course, you are still my fallen angel, and I'll never forget you. Love from Riko.

Warm tears begin to prick at Riko's eyes as she leaves the note on the dresser. She lays a feather beside it too, the same one that Yoshiko gave to her on the night she confessed.

“I'm ready now, Kanan,” she whispers. There's a faint beam of light that enters the room, and Riko can feel herself disappear gradually. She closes her eyes after taking one last look at Yoshiko. When she opens them again, she's standing back on the same cloud as before, with her angel outfit, and her three friends holding their hands out to her. She takes one last look at the town below, and goes back to her old life.

---

When Yoshiko wakes up, there's a mysterious letter on her dresser. Whilst she reads it, she finds tears silently running down her face, but she can't recall a thing. Yet, she knows that this person must have been close to her. She holds the letter tight, as though she is afraid to let go.

#love live! sunshine!! #love live fanfiction #yohariko #yoshiriko #yoshiko tsushima #riko sakurauchi #my writing