#one time last year i sent diana a message after work that said 'call me grandpa cause im gonna go home and shit' | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shintorikhazumi · 3 years

Text

“Diana.”

A/N: To be honest, I had wanted this to be a Diana-centric fic, from Diana’s perspective. I struggled to find a concept, and had a little help from a friend who sent me a random generator. (Thanks, Kate :>) And when I thought I’d just choose from a randomly generated idea, I came across this video on youtube which was actually a compilation of a tiktok series of the story of two neighbors. Of course, I changed bits of it, and obv the end so if you think you know what the source vid is, dw. I won’t hurt y’all like that ;-; And I’ll just link it at the bottom so no plot spoilers for those who don’t know what it is. Eyyyy.

This fic has a few song recs for y’all to listen to if you haven’t heard them already, lol. ;)

I had been looking for something... “emotional” for Diana’s bday fic. And I think... this works. At least for me, it does. It’s not from Diana’s perspective, but... I think this works. So without further ado, Happy birthday Diana and...

oh, thank you to @tracedinairlwa for some help with the music :> that y’all will see later in the fic :’>. Without further ado,

Enjoy?

~Shintori Khazumi

It all started with a sunset and a few familiar notes from a piano.

No, it isn’t Akko’s piano. Her piano has been sitting in a corner of her room, collecting dust- untouched for months. And that is just the thing. Unless her piano has somehow become cursed and has decided to ghostly play on its own, then there had to be some other source.

The source of that gentle sound, Akko eventually pinpoints, is her apartment wall- or more accurately, what lies beyond that separator.

As she sits on her couch, admiring the expressive tones, her mind has decided that it wants to capture this special moment, and keep it stored lest she never experiences it again.

Making a quick dash for her bedroom, she opens her bedside drawer and fishes for her old camera from her university days in film club, back when she was an actual student of the Arts and all that creative jazz. She has tried to maintain it, but being under lockdown allows her few chances of seeing the outside world, and the few corners of her home don’t exactly spark ‘inspiration’ for any project.

Dusting the device off gently, she takes it back to the living room, placing it on her coffee table facing herself. She clicks the record button, thinking of making an introduction; but she quickly abandons that idea as she realizes it may take away from the sounds she wants to ring more apparent on tape.

Maybe she can just edit a few captions later on her laptop. Yes. That sounds good.

So she sits.

And the notes kept playing.

[Video Diary(?) Diary? Is this a Diary? Day... Day 1. I hope it’s only Day 1. I hope there’s a day 2. And a three... and a five.

So anyway, Akko here. And uh... I got a new neighbor, I think. He/she plays the piano. I do too (kinda. Haven’t done that in a while, hehe).

I don’t know why I recorded this... this must seem like I’m being a creep, but... They just... played Chariot’s Melancholy from my favorite show and... it felt sadder than usual. The sound felt sorrowful. I don’t know...

I’m... moved.]

//-//-//-//-//

She does not know what compels her today, to slip that message under her neighbors door; but before she can even think about her actions, they’d already been done.

A simple, “can you please play ‘Ease My Mind’ by Ben Platt, maybe?” haphazardly scrawled on a piece of notebook paper is delivered with the anxious feelings of an interaction-craving Akko, starved of a social life since all this pandemic misfortune began.

She is sure she no longer knows how to string a proper introduction together after nearly a year of being by her lonesome.

This is about to change however. Starting today.

Maybe.

She counts down the hours ‘til sunset.

[Day 2! Yey! So uh... I kind of... went on the attack- no! I didn’t attack anyone! I just... You know how I have a new neighbor that plays the piano? I sent that neighbor a note.

And you might think that’s all fine and cute, but... I’ve never even met my neighbor... but...

I love his/her music. So much.

And I told them. On the note, of course. Duh, Akko.

I asked them to play ease my mind and... they did.

As you can hear in the video... I guess it was a yes. :>

...They eased my mind...

-Akko]

//-//-//-//-//

She wants to try something today.

She has been thinking about it the past few days after continually being blessed with such beautiful music. Music that had attracted her like moth to a flame. The piano’s daily sunset singing compels her to come reunite with her own.

She had wiped it clean earlier in the morning and now sits awkwardly on the bench, punching down a random note here and there.

What a nostalgic tone.

The C major scale then the G. She plays it. A few arpeggios to warm up. F sharp major doesn’t sound too good, with her fingers tangling up as she traverses the scale. What was the fingering supposed to be like again? Right. Start with the fourth and second finger on the left and right hand respectively.

That sounds much better.

She hums a few tunes, choosing from a playlist arranged in her mind. She settles on something gentle and sweet. A Yiruma song. Just to get the feeling back in her hands.

A river flows as notes along the plain that is her silent room, adorning the quiet flourishes and curves, bringing color to her atmosphere.

She misses this. This tingle in her heart as music fills up her entire soul, not allowing her to think of anything else but this exact moment.

Yes.

This... This is nice.

And Akko plays until the sunset comes.

She can’t wait for it to come.

[Day 6. I... I haven’t played the piano in a while, and I’m a little rusty. But brave ol’ Akko here thought it’d be great to ask for a duet from the virtuoso across the drywall, haha. I left a note...

And I though we had something going. I was excited... I said that they could play once I stopped my part, but... did they forget? Or I guess they didn’t hear me.

It’s okay... I can try again tomorrow.

I hope. Tomorrow...

-This has been Akko.]

//-//-//-//-//

She excitedly videos this weekend ‘meet-up’.

Akko still doesn’t know who lives across the wall, but she sure knows his or her favorite songs by now, hearing it daily at the same sunset hours.

She admires the music, as usual, but this time it’s different. This time, they had sent her a note. An apology for missing out last time.

They request a duet with her, to make up for it. Of course, Akko accepts. And now she starts it off, praying and hoping her sound is heard through the barrier that keeps their music apart.

She ends her part of the duet, waiting in the most agonizing few seconds of silence. She briefly worries that her neighbor had forgotten their proposition; or maybe they couldn’t hear her once more.

It’s fine, she thinks... It’s okay. She scratches her cheek, wondering if she should hold on until next time again-

There it is. That beautiful sound, so personal to the one living across the wall. A sound of emotion that could only belong to whoever it was living there.

Akko had never heard anyone else play the way her neighbor did.

She laughs, she feels herself tear up a little. It hurts so sweet in her chest. It’s a fizzy, bubbling excitement. It’s a stretched-out joy across her cheeks.

A success!

A beautiful one, indeed.

[Day 8: Akko here. My wish came true. I... got to play with my neighbor! Yay!

... Maybe I should go meet them now...]

//-//-//-//-//

They do it again.

Akko excitedly bounces in her warmed piano seat, listening to her neighbor go first this time around. She listens intently. Once the wall music stops, she starts. This was their agreement, their deal.

The river’s flow stills a moment, and that’s Akko’s cue to pick up the current’s pace once more.

She plays with shy gusto, caressing the keys in a way that shows how she’s fallen in love again. With the piano? With music? Yes. With- ...

Love, huh. It’s such perfect timing too.

Today is Valentine’s day.

Akko doesn’t know whether or not her neighbor has anyone special in her life like that, but if they share the same situation, all alone in their apartments, locked in by the pandemic, she just wants them to know she receives the message their music is trying to get across to one another.

Her heart feels it. It translates it.

It cherishes it.

[Day 13.

Dear Neighbor,

I just... wanted to share the words we’ve exchanged, not through any verbal means, but through the sounds that reverberate against the very foundations of our connected homes. Thank you for this message.

I know that music is... our way of simply saying

“I don’t know who you are ... But I’m here. You’re not Alone.” This is for you too.

-Sincerely, Akko.]

//-//-//-//-//

It is a challenge.

For Akko or for her neighbor, she doesn’t know. What she does know is that tomorrow is going to be the big day! She’s finally going to see the face behind the songs that have embraced her tenderly throughout the lonely struggle she hadn’t realized had weighed down on her so heavily.

The interactions they’ve had, the conversations, they brighten up her everyday, and Akko is somewhat afraid she’s gotten attached; addicted- if you will- to this unique bond she’s formed with another she has never actually met.

Her mind strays from her current piece, body autopiloting a song called, “Mind Conductor” that both of them just so happen to like, apparently. Another fact that makes Akko feel all giddy as they seem to share a taste in other media outside of music.

She feels herself vibrate with nerves and excitement.

It’s tomorrow. Tomorrow is the day.

[We’re Finally Meeting.

Tomorrow.]

//-//-//-//-//

Akko tells a story.

She’s met her neighbor, not knowing what to expect. Despite having a lack of said expectations, she could confidently say it was better than anything she could have anticipated.

She rolls up the sleeves of her flannel shirt, readying herself to write the melodious response to the already playing tune in the background of her video.

Though she tries to listen intently, waiting for her turn, she is distracted. She knows she is.

After meeting someone as wonderful as her neighbor.

Blonde hair and blue eyes invade her recall, flashes of a soft smile and calm voice playing over and over in her head.

Her neighbor is the most gorgeous woman she’s ever met. Breath-taking. Akko says this with utmost objectivity as her lungs struggle to function after first meeting the lady.

Hailing from Scotland, the twenty-five-year-old had introduced herself to Akko. They exchanged a few pleasantries, some questions and information.

Akko had asked how she’d never known she had such a talented neighbor, to which the response was an admission from the woman that she had just moved in and was only staying in the adjacent apartment temporarily while awaiting for a relative to come for her after selling their old house back in their hometown.

Her mother... rests. Having had a certain heart disease for a while, her immune system had proven very susceptible to the pandemic reaper that had claimed her life for its tallied count. She never knew her father, it seemed.

Akko’s heart breaks as she remembers these things.

“All I have left is the piano.”

That’s what she’d said to her earlier.

Akko’s fingers glide across the keys, playing her role in this drama for two.

“I play at sunset because my mother came home at that time from work... she was always stressed.

...I wanted to be of help to her. I was happy she loved it. As I grew up, it became a habit.”

Akko fumbles with a few keys, making a slight mistake. She hopes her neighbor can forgive her for being so distracted at the moment, and right after they’d finally met too.

“Thank you, Miss-”

“Akko is fine.”

“Thank you, Akko. You’re playing has, in truth, kept me motivated and less lonely.”

Akko remembers having promised before their parting to their respective units that she would keep playing with her until she moves out.

Akko blushes upon remembering the stunning smile she was offered afterwards.

Her neighbor had been camera shy and so Akko didn’t get the opportunity for a picture. She hopes for the best in the future. She’ll try again if ever the lovely lady was ready.

They have time, anyway.

They do.

[Day 20, folks! Akko here, writing another video caption entry, Diary, thing... haha. The song playing right now in the video is gorgeous right? It’s... her favorite song. It’s called, ‘In case you don’t live forever’. She said it keeps her loser to her mother. It keeps her in her heart.

She plays so beautifully...

She’s just as beautiful. She’s amazing.

She’s... a special soul.

I feel goosebumps.

I’m glad. For her. Her music doesn’t sound as sorrowful as when I first heard it. It’s still every bit as emotional, though. I could cry. Really, I could...

...I’m so happy she’s healing.

It’s a process, but... I’ll be here. I’ll be here for her.

I’ll be here for you,

“Diana.”]

//-//-//-//-//

There are times when Akko thinks she’d like to get to know her neighbor more, a little more chatting, a few more minutes talking.

However, it always seems as though there’s this unspoken rule. This... ‘don’t-get-too-close’, ‘don’t-ask-more-than-you-should’. It’s like a boundary that keeps Akko from learning more, discovering more.

Neither of them purposely meet-up outside their closed doors either, this lockdown and what-not all up in their face.

They see each other around the building sometimes, wave a hand, shake a plastic bag of groceries, but building protocols don’t really allow loitering in the halls, and Akko feels she’d be crossing a line in inviting the girl over, and she doesn’t see herself getting invited instead either.

Despite this longing, she isn’t all too dissatisfied with the current standing of their relationship. Peculiar as it may be, she rather likes this.

A relationship built on a communication based on raw emotion delivered through their music.

If Akko ponders it deeply, it’s quite an intimate relationship, what they have. Thoughts and feelings in their purest form- unspoken, but not hidden.

She might not know too much about Diana. She may not know much of her past, or even her present, or general objective facts about the woman.

But what Akko does feel she knows is Diana’s heart.

And Akko knows its utterly beautiful.

//-//-//-//-//

Moonlight Sonata has never felt so sad to her; its sounds reflecting something they both felt, Akko believed.

Akko feels her heart clench and ache in her chest, her face a little hot and her palms sweating.

Only a week left before the clock strikes twelve and the magic is broken.

Diana is finally moving out.

It is... their final duet.

How unfortunate.

Akko sighs, thinking about the pain she’ll feel later as she edits this portion of the video. Compared to the happy tones and build ups of all the others, this... is something she doesn’t know if she can do.

Maybe she can ask Amanda for a favor this time around?

She’s actually shown some of her closest friends her video logs, and they all had sent kind messages to Akko’s new friend, who in turn, felt worlds and worlds happier.

Akko feels happy as well.

Diana’s joy is contagious. It shows through her expressive music that gives away the feelings her face doesn’t show.

Speaking of Diana’s face... she still hasn’t agreed on showing her face on camera. Akko supposes it’s still too early. Maybe before she leaves? Oh Akko hopes so. She wants to have something to look at physically to remember Diana by. Not that she’d ever forget.

Still, a little memory help never hurt anyone.

Diana’s turn comes in smoothly through the wall, Akko unable to keep her smile from forming.

She’s going to miss this. The playing; the sometimes awkward, but unconventionally amazing duets; the letters shoved underneath door; and the very rare hallway meet-up where Akko can only smile at Diana as they exchange a literal word or two.

Akko reminisces.

The past... two months now, have been amazing. Incredible. Life-changing. Akko wonders what the future has in store for them both after they part.

Maybe they could meet again. Someday. Somehow. Somewhere.

Akko knows she’ll keep playing still. At the same time, on a weekend, as the sunsets. For Diana. She’s promised she’ll keep making the video logs. She’ll send them over to her so that they can still keep this music alive in some way.

//-//-//-//-//

[Day 62.

Hi, Diana. It’s me, Akko.

I... wrote you a song...? Or well, I started to... I’m not quite done yet, hihi. Got a little too ambitious and all... thought I could add some other instruments besides our- the piano... aha..haha...

When you first told me your story, I started picturing it out. A life dyed with all the colors of the spectrum. From the vivids to the grays, it was such a lovely imagery in my minds eye. A painting I could not get out of my head.

And so this song is... yeah. That.

A story.

A story about this wonderful twenty-five-year-old woman who so happened to move next door to this uninspired artist. She’d lost her mother to a stupid virus, and she’d never known her father. Her house got sold, and she had only one distant relative she knew of left.

She spends her days along in a box of white walls and empty silence. That is, until the sun decides to rest for the day, and it sends its golden rays of energy to the girl and to her piano that she thought to be her sole companion in this tragedy.

She plays her favorite songs, filling the emptiness with her own emotions; making the intangible manifest itself and cause a dumb girl next door to one day slip a scratch of paper underneath her door, asking for a song.

A note with a request... and with a message that she’d heard her feelings- her loneliness; and that she’d never let her be alone anymore.

And that’s how they became friends, huh, Diana?

Two pianos, Two people, and a wall that keeps them apart.

They didn’t know who was playing on the other side. But did it matter?

In this dreary, blackened time of the world,

‘You can be the light of somebody else’ darkness, so keep shining.’.

Dear Diana,

In case my playing isn’t as emotionally expressive as yours, I hope you at least know this now. Through this video.

That you were, and are... my light.

-Akko.

P.S. I hope I finish the song and give it to you before you leave.]

//-//-//-//-//

She feels herself hyperventilating, her vision bleary. She can barely stand. She feels like vomiting, and dying, and screaming all at once.

Her anxieties run rampant all over the room.

If this keeps up, she may as well hurt herself beyond help.

She trudges over to the one thing that could ground her at the moment.

The piano.

Her hands are shaky as they do multiple attempts to turn on the keyboard, hitting the wrong buttons and turning the volume knob up too loud that when Akko accidentally leans against the keyboard, hand pressing down on many keys, the sound almost blows up her eardrums.

She curses, smashing a hand against those same keys, the cluster of notes echoing through her apartment walls.

“aaaaAAAAGGHHHHHHHH!!!!”

She allows the scream to tear out of her throat; emotions, wild horses finally released into the open.

“AGH! AGGHHHH!!! RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH”

She falls face first onto the keys, now ignoring the loudness of their noise, momentarily thinking it would be better to allow her ears to bleed out so she’d never hear a thing again.

She wants something, anything, to drown out the pain she feels right now.

...

She sobs against the keys, head lifting as she apologizes to her piano, wiping off the tears that are quickly replaced by fresh ones.

Akko gives up and plays a note. Then two.

Then she’s playing ‘you’ll be in my heart’ and she’s crying more.

She lets herself cry as she plays.

Today, she was supposed to see Diana off. She had left a final note the day before yesterday, asking if she could do so. Help Diana carry her things, maybe swap numbers, and just... maybe keep this connection going for years to come.

Last night, she’d said good night at Diana’s door.

The girl gave her the sweetest smile, an almost unnoticeable blush on her features.

Oh, but Akko noticed anyway.

Of course, she would. With how shamelessly she stared at Diana at that moment.

Diana laughed, stepping closer and patted Akko on the cheek- kissed her there- before turning about to shut the door, along with the lights Akko saw go off from underneath it.

She was excited for the morning.

But when morning came... Diana was gone.

Akko had been thrown into confusion and a frantic state that she’d bolted all around, searching for signs or a left behind message.

Nothing.

She had then run down to ask the land lady, and that’s where she’d found out.

The heart disease Diana’s mother had was hereditary.

Diana had had an attack, and with an emergency alerting device, she’d been able to contact her only family, and had been taken to the hospital.

That was good.

That gave Akko relief and joy.

...so why is she despairing now?

...She didn’t know.

No, not the reason for her despair. She knows that.

The reason she was in this state is because she didn’t know.

She didn’t know what had happened.

She didn’t know Diana had suddenly disappeared in the middle of the night.

She didn’t know where she was, or where whoever took her.

She didn’t know that Diana had that heart disease too.

She didn’t know because she never got to ask.

She never got to learn more, know more.

... Did she not know Diana then?

Her mind taunts her, her heart hurts her.

She doesn’t know a lot about Diana. Not as much as she thinks.

That’s what they tell her.

For all the emotions they’d exchanged through music, that was the extent of it. Had Akko been too presumptuous in thinking she’d known Diana so deeply because of what they’d shared?

When in reality she may as well be a random stranger playing her show tunes and disturbing her neighbors.

Akko almost believes it.

But no... no. She can’t do that. She can’t assume those things. Not about their connection. Not about Diana.

Because Diana had told her once upon a song that she- that Akko had been her light. Her comfort. Akko believes in Diana. So she believes these feelings as well.

Yet these feelings of her own were so conflicting, so daunting. They battle in her mind, questioning and justifying every little thing. All things relating to Diana. Diana and... Diana.

Akko coughs out a few more sobs, throat incredibly dry.

She stops playing for a moment, dragging herself to the kitchen for a glass of water.

Then she goes back to the piano.

She... doesn’t feel like playing again.

What should she play anyway?

What song does she want to play? What song... Song... Song... Diana... What was Diana’s favorite song?

Diana? Song? A song for Diana? A song about-

Akko falls off her piano bench as she scrambles for her coffee table, sighing in relief as the papers for her composition are still there.

With shaky hands, she takes the sheets and a pencil and brings them over to the piano.

And she writes a few notes, then a few bars.

Diana.

Who is Diana.

What does Akko not know about her. Her other struggles? Her sickness? Her trials and her fears? Her past?

That melody... sounded too sad for a parting gift. Akko doesn’t want Diana to feel more sorrow when she moves out...

Then....

What does Akko know? About Diana?

“Diana is...”

Expressive, emotional.

Diana is intelligent, an intellectual.

Diana is sincere and sweet.

Diana is talented and tasteful in music.

Diana is... her neighbor, her... new friend,

....Akko’s... what?

What was she to Akko?

“You are my light.”

-Akko ends up writing as a title.

But that’s a little too embarrassing to give to someone who was just your neighbor and a new friend... right?

And maybe it didn’t exactly represent the whole thing Akko had written.

So she erases it, biting her pencil as she tries to come up with a new name, a new caption for this creation.

What could it be. That describes Diana in her entirety; her life, her struggles, her joys.

Who is she? Who is Akko’s neighbor?

Akko scratches her head in frustration, wracking her brains even more.

With a sigh, she replies to herself aloud, the simplest, somewhat plain, and stupidly obvious answer.

“Well, she’s Diana.”

And it clicks.

That she is.

She is Diana.

And Akko throws on a jacket, a mask, and some shoes and thinks no more.

//-//-//-//-//

[Dear Diana,

I know very little about you

But you’ve changed my life.

Really you have.

You gave me back my passion, and a little bit more of that even. Maybe aroused a new passion within me.

I’d say, “You’ll be in my heart”, but that sounds too much of a farewell, to be honest.

And I’d rather not say goodbye just yet.

Not like this.

Music... Is a powerful thing. Despite the rampaging emotions I’d felt as I found out what had happened to you today, I- I kept playing. It grounded me. It helped me.

Diana, you once told me I was your light.

And you know I’ve told you already. That you’ve been MINE.

Diana. This video might look incredibly shaky and chaotic.

But please forgive me for that, and know that it is because I’m running with all my might to find out where you are. I got a hint for the hospital you might have been taken too.

It kinda seems like I’m a stalker now, huh?

I’m sorry. I just... I-

I can’t say goodbye to you....

Not just yet...

I still... have a song for you.

So... wait for me?”]

//-//-//-//-//

Eyes blink, bright white melting into color. They scan the room, looking for hints to identify her location.

Her body aches, her chest hurts. Her throat is parched. Her head is throbbing.

What is that annoying beeping sound-

Ah. Of course.

The hospital.

Again.

She hates it. She hates the smell of antiseptic and sterile sheets. She hates the taste of badly prepared hospital meals, and too-dry food.

The water has this strange quality to it when you’re in the hospital.

She knows this well.

She hates that she does.

She sighs, sinking into her pillows. At least those are comfortable.

Ugh.

What bad timing, really. For an attack.

She was supposed to move out today. She was supposed to meet with her aunt- who actually has probably met up with her by now, seeing as Diana is in a hospital and her usual alert device seems to be charging within reach beside her. Also she sees Daryl’s purse on the seat.

Maybe the woman had gone out temporarily for something important.

That was fine.

It just meant Diana was left alone again. If only for a short while.

...Alone, huh.

These past two months, she hadn’t been that.

All because of one girl, one Atsuko Kagari that she’d met by chance through a piano and through a wall. The sound quite literally carrying over through a wall.

Diana can’t believe she used to be so skeptical of thin-walled living spaces, wondering how people kept their privacy.

Now, however, she feels blessed that that was the case.

Else she’d never have met... her light.

That’s right.

When everything, her vision, her hopes, her heart had steadily been dying out, through her dim came a glow. That glow was the connection she’d found through her neighbor across a wall.

It had surprised her the first time she realized someone was playing alongside her one sunset session, months ago. She would have thought it creepy had the person’s music been any less captivating.

There were just so many colors in the music, there was just so much warmth. It sounded a little rough, a few hinges rusty at first; but it came along after a few pseudo duets, and then Diana had found these duets to be a staple in her life.

Then she met Akko for the first time, and more warmth and color came into her life.

Diana found herself enjoying the musical conversations they had, intrigued by thoughts that they were actually able to communicate in that way and understand one another to that extent, no words attached.

And she enjoyed these nonverbal bonding moments.

But when they actually wrote to one another, or when they’d have their short greetings when they’d meet up in the hall, Diana found herself wanting to draw even closer, to get to know Akko even more.

And when Akko asked if she could do the same, Diana had found it so easy to open up.

She’d loved to know even more about the girl.

But how would she do it now?

They didn’t have the chance to exchange numbers, and Diana was probably moving as soon as she left the hospital. Her things were already being shipped to her new home, after all. There wasn’t much reason to return to her apartment, really.

“Idiot. Stupid, Diana. Not asking her sooner. What are you supposed to do no-”

Two knocks on her door.

It doesn’t open right away. It doesn’t seem to open at all.

Diana deduces it’s not a doctor or nurse then. And it might not be Daryl either because the woman would have already called the attending nurse to open the door already.

So then, who could it be?

Diana tries not to let her mind wander and get her hopes up, because there is no way- just no way- it’s who she hopes it will be.

The door opens, and her breath is unexpectedly bated- and she releases it, seeing it’s just the janitor.

Trying not to let disappointment leak into her tone, she greets him a good mor-

“I’m glad... I was right.... hah... hah... You’re here... Diana.”

And Diana really shouldn’t just assume things such as being wrong, and that maybe her neighbor was a creep two months back.

Because now her neighbor, all frazzled, sweaty, and out of breath, is right there in front of her, a bunch of papers crumpled in one hand as the other is held over her heart, trying to calm herself.

“You... hah... didn’t let m-me... Sa-ha-y goodbye... so... you’re not allowed... to leave me waiting in silence and never respond...” Akko huffs. “There’s no more wall preventing you from using words now.”

Her breathing finally slows, and she manages to look up.

“I still have a song for you, after all.”

Diana doesn’t realize, nor does she feel the tears flowing down her face.

Akko doesn’t either.

“L-Let me know what you think... It’s my first song and all...” She becomes this shy blushing school girl as she approaches Diana’s bedside, awkwardly handing over the worn pieces of paper, all wrinkled up from whatever adventure Akko had been on prior to arriving here. “... then maybe we could play a duet again or something...”

She mumbles it so quietly Diana almost didn’t catch it.

She smiles.

She doesn’t think about the reality that was supposed to occur today had she not been taken to the hospital.

Virtual duets aren’t really her thing. She much prefers hearing sound in person, in real-time. She prefers the ability to adapt and adjust to play alongside someone; to feel expression and emotion first hand; to experience a duet in full.

So it’s a simple reply that she has ready, along with a smile on her face as she takes Akko’s hand in hers.

“I’d love that.”

//-//-//-//-//

Diana has told her many times that it’s thanks to her that she was able to recover as quickly as she did, and be out of the hospital in only a week.

Akko sheepishly denies that every time.

They’re both just glad things seem to settle to be alright now.

Diana leans her head against Akko’s shoulder as they share a pair of earphones, listening to the composition play on the latter’s laptop.

“I love it.”

“I know. You’ve told me that the past 4 months, everyday.”

“And I will continue to.”

Akko tries her best to hide the smile that had grown on her face, but it’s impossible. It comes out in laughs and a few soft tears, and she rubs her head against Diana’s.

“You have all the time to, it seems.”

“Yes, and I won’t waste it.” Diana quips, turning her head up to look at Akko with the tenderest of smiles. “Care to play?”

Akko simply smiles, before wrapping Diana up in a hug so deep, and warm, and tender. Without a word, she stands them both up, walking them over to two keyboards now positioned side-by-side.

They take seat. With eyes meeting, and a small nod, they begin.

They don’t need words to figure out the rhythm they’ll fall into, or what they should do, or who plays what part for today.

Akko’s colors seep out, her warmth embedded in her music. Diana’s expressive emotions tell Akko all she needs to know, and they play in harmony.

Together, they tell a story.

A story that began with a sunset and a few familiar notes from a piano.

A story about its music and what lay beyond a wall.

A story once called, “Diana”.

Now,

“Diana and Akko”.

A/N: .... Hrmmm... I didn’t like how i ended it, tbh,,, hahaha. I just... lost my thought process now. I’m tired and lost.

Anyway.

Based off this story

The follow-up to this won’t be now, or anytime too soon. Or tbh, I could just end it like this. But there’s this ache in my heart that wants to know what happens next as well. Or more things such as how Diana ended up staying. But well,

...who knows.

Bye for now.

~Shintori Khazumi

#diakko #dianakko #lwa #Little Witch Academia #diana bday fic #sorry it's sloppy #fanfic #diana cavendish #kagari atsuko

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heauxplesslydevoted · 3 years

Note

Hi there! We're changing things up a little this week :)

Not Yet Wed Questions

Note: Great Scott! This week, we are going back in time to MC’s intern year. Think of Ethan’s relationship with them at this point and answer the following questions accordingly. It is entirely up to you when in year 1 this takes place (pre/post Miami, pre/post CH 15, etc). Feel free to answer with dialogue or pictures or both :) Have fun!

No worries. All of this is off the record and HR will never know!

The setting for this answers is:

For Both

When I first saw them, I thought__________

What is your coworker's most used swear word?

Quick: What color are their eyes?

Three people at work your coworker hates?

What is your coworker’s strangest or most endearing quirk?

If they had a crush on anyone at work, who would that be?

(Bonus round! Feel free to skip.)

Never have I Ever:

come into work hungover

had a fistfight

been kicked out of a bar

gotten a tattoo

broken someone’s heart

been in love

For MC (Ethan is not there)

Where do you see him in five years (both professionally and in his personal life?)

What do you find the most impressive about him?

Last thing he texted you?

If he asked you out on a date, what would you say?

For Ethan (MC is not there)

Where do you see him in five years (both professionally and in his personal life?)

What specifically do you find attractive about her?

Last thing she texted you?

If she asked you out on a date, how would you respond?

Alright, post Book 1 but pre-Ethan fleeing to South America Ethan x Naomi coming right up! I feel like that time would have maximum tension because they’re trying to find their footing again after fucking the souls out of each other’s bodies and sending them into orbit, and lowkey falling in love sleeping together, while maintaining professionalism.

~v~

For Both:

When I first saw them, I thought__________

Naomi: I thought “thank God someone else is here!” I was in over my head with that patient, and I didn’t even notice that The Ethan Ramsey was the one assisting me until much later.

Ethan: I thought she had guts. You don’t see too many first day interns that are ready to jump into the fray like she did.

What is your coworker's most used swear word?

Naomi: He says Christ and any iteration of the word damn. Dammit, goddamn, goddammit, you get the gist.

Ethan: She says fuck.

Naomi: You’ve never heard me say that.

Ethan: She says fuck a lot, especially when she’s...*Ethan trails off and catches himself before he finishes that sentence. It’s a moot point all the same because now all he can think about is the young intern in front of him, hands pulling his hair, nails raking down his back, moaning the obscenity into his ear, into his pillows. He awkwardly clears his throat* Just trust me, I’ve heard her say it. Multiple times.

*and now he’s mad at himself*

Quick: What color are their eyes?

Naomi: Blue. They’re kinda hard to miss.

Ethan: Her eyes are brown.

Three people at work your coworker hates?

Naomi: He hates everyone, except for me and Naveen.

Ethan: Except for you? You think pretty highly of yourself, Rookie.

Naomi: Am I wrong? *Ethan doesn’t deny it, instead staying silent and Naomi smirks* Exactly

Ethan: I don’t think she dislikes anyone. I’ve never met a person like her, she makes friends with everyone.

What is your coworker’s strangest or most endearing quirk?

Naomi: He fiddles with his glasses a lot.

Ethan: She’s constantly biting her lip, especially when she’s really focused.

*she’s actually surprised that he picked up on that* Naomi: You notice that?

Ethan: I notice everything...about everything. It’s the nature of the job.

If they had a crush on anyone at work, who would that be?

*they both share an awkward glance before looking away and declining to answer*

Never Have I Ever...

Come into work hungover

Ethan: When I was younger, yes. But now that I’m older, I know my limits.

Naomi: No, because I don’t get hangovers due to my magical hangover cure.

Ethan: That god-awful drink is...surprisingly effective.

*the interviewer asks Ethan to elaborate on the time Naomi gave him whatever her hangover cure is, and he adamantly refuses*

Had a fistfight

Naomi: Yes, but in my defense I was drunk.

Ethan: *snorts* How is that a defense?

Naomi: I’m the daughter of an attorney, I usually try to resolve my issues with my words. But drunk Naomi is a little feistier.

Ethan: You mean you have a level of feistiness that I’ve yet to see?

Naomi: Oh yeah. Anyway, I was in college, I was drunk at a bar, someone spilled a drink on me, and it escalated. I think I broke her nose.

Ethan: An arrest record wasn’t on your file when we hired you.

Naomi: Like I said, I’m the daughter of an attorney, and the granddaughter of a DC judge. That has its perks.

Ethan: Yes, I’ve gotten into a fist fight before. I punched Nash in the face. And before that, i fought my old med school roommate.

Naomi: Ooh, what did he do?

Ethan: That’s not a story I’d ever divulge while sober.

Been kicked out of a bar

Naomi: Yes. Circle back to the previous question.

Ethan: No, because I’m an adult.

Gotten a tattoo

Ethan: Absolutely not

Naomi: I have a tattoo of the Cancer symbol on my left hip. It’s my zodiac sign.

*this stuns Ethan into silence because he’s seen her naked on more than one occasion and been...very well acquainted with the body parts below her waist, and for the life of him cannot remember a tattoo*

Broken someone’s heart

Naomi: No. At least, I don’t think so. I’ve had my heart broken, if that counts.

Ethan: Same as Naomi. I don’t think I have.

*they make a pointed effort to not make eye contact with each other, and Naomi bites down on her lip, letting the silence hang in the air. The alternative would be informing Ethan that he has indeed broken someone’s heart, and that just won’t do.*

Been in love

Naomi: I don’t know. Maybe? I thought I was in love with my med school boyfriend, but now that time has passed, I know that wasn’t love. At least, not the good kind. And there was a near miss after him, but nothing came out of it. The emotions were a lot stronger the second time around though, and i think it’s the closest I’ve come to it this far. I’m a hopeless romantic, so I hope I find it someday.

Ethan: No. Call me a cynic, but I just don’t see love as something that’s feasible and attainable. Putting that much trust and dependency in another person is not realistic.

For Naomi (Ethan is not there)

Where do you see him in five years (both professionally and in his personal life?)

Naomi: I don’t know what’s left for a man like Ethan Ramsey. He’s already done so much in the field of medicine, unless he reinvents the entire wheel and turns it upside down, which I can see him doing. I can see him writing more, publishing more research, and of course winning more awards. If he wasn’t so anti-administration, he could be running this place. Or maybe he’ll start his own non-profit.

Naomi: As far as his personal life, I don’t know. You heard loud and clear that he doesn’t really believe in love. I hope one day he changes his mind or finds a companion, because underneath his extremely prickly exterior, he’s one of the best men I know and he has a heart of gold. He deserves the chance to let someone take care of it for him.

What do you find the most impressive about him?

Naomi: From afar, Ethan seems very larger than life, but I think the most impressive thing about him is his dedication to not just medicine, but his patients. I’ve never seen him not go above and beyond for someone he was treating.

Last thing he texted you?

Naomi: “Please consult Diana in HR regarding your official diagnostic team fellowship application. I know this year has been unorthodox to say the least, but there are still some steps that must be taken before the start of your second year. Thank you.”

Naomi: I’ve never received a text message that long.

If he asked you out on a date, what would you say?

*her cheeks heat up furiously and she pulls her bottom between her teeth before answering, her eyes bright and watery*

Naomi: Am I a total glutton for pain for saying I’d jump at the chance?

For Ethan (Naomi is not there)

Where do you see her in five years (both professionally and in her personal life?)

Ethan: Dr. Valentine has so much potential and she’s going to be one of the greats. She’s going to be running the diagnostics team if she chooses to stay at Edenbrook, and I can’t see Naveen not trying to keep her here. She’s going to win awards, have awards named after her, publish research, lead trials, whatever. I hate to sound banal and cliche, but the sky really is the limit for her. I chose her for a reason, and I plan her helping her reach all of that potential.

Ethan: As for her personal life, I don’t know. Hopefully she finds someone that’s good enough for her.

What specifically do you find attractive about her?

Ethan: A-attractive? *the word comes out in a squeak, but he coughs to cover it up* Why on earth would you assume that I’m attracted to her?

*he goes on a ridiculously long tangent about how inappropriate it is to be attracted to your coworkers, especially your subordinates, and how he would never jeopardize Naomi’s career on something as trivial as attraction, and anyone with an ounce of common sense can tell that he doth protest too much*

Ethan: But if I absolutely had to pick something besides her good looks, it’d be her spirit. She’s warm and empathetic and optimistic, and I’ve never seen someone care as much as she does.

Last thing she texted you?

Ethan: “👍” I sent her a message about her upcoming fellowship and she sent back a thumbs up. Just that. I was a little annoyed.

If she asked you out on a date, how would you respond?

Ethan: As um...flattering as that might be, I would say no. I am an attending, she’s an intern, my soon to be fellow. That is crossing too many ethical lines, lines I refuse to breach.

Ethan: And I would say no because Naomi is...just a good person. And maybe I’m being biased, but I don’t know if anyone will ever be truly worthy of her. But I can say without a shadow of a doubt that she deserves so much better than me or what I could give her.

#ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #newlyweds game with your host bree

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chloe-bourgeois-is-big-gay · 3 years

Text

// Day 10 //

// Martian AU //

"Does anyone have eyes on Dupain-Cheng?" Someone shouted over the storm.

"She got hit by debris, Commander. And her breach alarm went off. If she's alive we won't find her in time. You should call it."

Diana hesitated, "Get to the MAV. I'll meet you there."

"Commander?"

"You heard me, Kent. Everyone in the MAV and if meets the tipping threshold, you launch without me. I'm going to look for Dupain-Cheng."

Jason scoffed, "No offence, Commander, but that's absolute bullshit. Marinette was my friend, too. But she's dead. And you will be, too, if you don't get in."

The team heard a sigh on the comms, before they felt the familiar vibration of someone climbing up the ladder.

Diana sat in her chair and fastened her seatbelt.

Clark looked at her apologetically, "I'm sorry, Commander, but you have to give me verbal confirmation before we launch."

"... Launch."

…..

Marinette woke up to an annoying beeping.

"Ugh. Why is my alarm so loud."

"Warning. Suit pressure dropping."

She groaned and rolled over only to be pinned down painfully by debris sticking out of her, "Not my alarm. Got it."

She pulled herself, with great effort to her feet and made her way to the Hab.

…..

'Sol 13 Log.

'Marinette Dupain-Cheng, sixth in command.

'So I'm fucked.

'I'm 132.6 kilometres from Earth, on a hostile planet, with no way home and a stab wound caused by the satellite dish. So I can't contact anyone either.

'Fortunately for me, they send dried rations instead of the fresh stuff, so rotten food won't be a problem. But the quantity will be.

'Let me do some maths. We were only meant to be here for a month, but to NASA that's basically two, so they sent up twice the amount just in case.

'I can stretch my calorie intake to the minimum 1200.

'A ration pack has about 900 calories so I only need to eat one and, like, a quarter, per day.

'Back to the maths, I had to take away thirteen days worth of rations for the amount of time we've been here, so I have about 52 days worth of food. That doesn't sound like a lot but that's for six people.

'I have 312 days worth of food. And that's without taking into account my 6/10 rationing. I have about 500 days worth of food. About two years.

'That sounds like a lot, I know it does. But even if I survive 500 days, the next Ares mission won't arrive for three years after that.

'So back to my starting argument. I'm fucked.'

…..

Marinette was going through her checklist, just to make sure her maths was right and, hopefully, underestimated.

She opened the final drawer and her eyes bugged out of her head.

"Holy shit."

…..

'I won't die here! I refuse.

'So it turned out NASA sent potatoes for Thanksgiving. Ironically, I feel very thankful for America's need to celebrate everything.

'The best thing about these beautiful vaccume packed potatoes? They're alive! Sure, they need bacteria to grow, bacteria that isn't native to Mars. But I have a literal shit dumpster!'

…..

For the next few days, Marinette's skills were put to the test as she made the Hab, suitable for plant life.

…..

'Okay. I'm going to need to make water.

'Which should be easy considering the whole reason they sent me up here was because I have a background in chemical engineering.

'I can probably use some of the excess fuel that was in the MAV tanks.

'I just need something flammable. If you didn't know, NASA spends an ungodly amount of time making everything as not flammable as possible. Because you can't exactly leave the burning building, while in space.

'What are the only things in this Hab that NASA didn't get their pyrophobic hands on?'

…..

"You can always count on Jason to have books. And a lot of them, apparently," Marinette said, while rooting through her friend's personal things, "He does know that he was given the media drive for a reason, right?"

…..

'Jason's media drive was also full of books. I'm not surprised.

'I kind of feel bad about going through my crewmates personal belongings and drives, but if I'm going to be stuck on this planet for the next five years, it had to happen at some point.'

…..

Tim sat down at his work area in SatCom. He was looking through the satellite images of the last few weeks in the Schiaparelli crater, hoping to find something from the site that was salvageable.

"Oh?"

He looked at the before and after photos, "That can't be right…"

He grabbed his phone, "Um, this is Tim Drake in SatCom… Do you have the contact details for Jim Gordon? It's an emergency."

…..

Jim went through the images with his team of higher ups.

"Shit."

…..

Soon, Marinette was able to get into contact with NASA through Pathfinder.

She was sent some really cool emails from famous people wishing her luck and a guy called Tim Drake was put in charge of communications with her.

Apparently, he was the one who discovered she was alive. So that was cool.

…..

Eventually, Marinette was able to fix the satellite dish and reconnect her emails so every message she sent wasn't being broadcasted to the planet (Earth, not Mars).

She and Tim corresponded daily, sometimes even hourly, sometimes it was for updates on the rescue mission or her crops. Other times, it was Tim informing her on the latest memes and pop culture (she should have realised sooner that she'd become a meme).

They got really close and sometimes Marinette would just email him to ask 'What's up?'

…..

[email protected]: I finished the last of my coffee rations. Don't mind me, I'm just gonna cry.

[email protected]: oof big f

…..

When Marinette's potato crop blew up, literally, he was the first one she messaged.

When the crew were finally allowed to message her, she emailed him immediately after they logged off.

When the plan to get her extra provisions fell out of the sky, she messaged to him for comfort.

In reality, she should have realised she was falling for him a lot sooner.

…..

[email protected]: if I get back to earth, I'm going to give you a big hug and buy you a pizza

[email protected]: if? what do you mean by if?

[email protected]: let's be real I won't make it to the next Ares mission. not without those potatoes or provisions. and if I have to listen to any more of Clarks country music.

[email protected]: I guess this is better than ever to say it. we figured out how to get you home. I wasn't supposed to say anything until we have everything confirmed, so act surprised when they tell you.

[email protected]: WHAT

…..

The plan itself went off without a hitch, other than the fact Marinette is technically a space pirate, and the going into space in a convertible part, and the ironman hands, and the blowing up an airlock and the -- you know what, let's just say the plan went well.

Marinette spent six months recovering in the Hermes during their trip back to earth. And another two weeks in isolation.

Finally, Marinette was free to breathe fresh air and see nature.

She met Tim and let's just say he was cuter than she imagined. And let's also say their first meeting was filled with tears of happiness from both parties.

Marinette was invited all over the world to meet famous and important people.

"I'd love to come," she told them all, "But first I have to get pizza with a friend of mine."

@timari-month-event

Buy me a coffee?

#It took me an hour to do that maths #I'm so tired after that #marinette x tim #timinette #timari #Timari January #Timari Month #Day 10 Martian AU #Pls buy me a coffee after that #Please commission too!

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joannaliceevans-fanficblog · 4 years

Text

Better With You: Part. 7

Disclaimer: Okay, I’ve been MIA (sorta) for about a few days. Work has been kicking my ass for the past couple days. I have another long work week, so I might be MIA again. So my updates are not going to be frequent as usual. But bare with me!

Just a few thanks: @princessofdarkwinter (for betaing this and for all her awesome imput! Check out her fic Regrets.

You walked out of the bathroom with your robe on and a towel wrapped around your head. As you came out, you saw Chris on the bed with Dodger. You went to the closet to get your jammies, consisting of a plain tee shirt and panties. Once getting settled, you climbed into bed and grabbed your phone. You saw a few messages from your usual and decided to look at them later.

“Oh, before I forget, I have to run a few errands for the store tomorrow after work.” You said, putting your phone down next to you and settling into the covers. Dodger groaned and went to his bed in the corner of the room.

“What time will you be home?” Chris asked, as he too snuggled into the covers and wrapped his arms around you.

“Not too late, probably around 6.” You said and gave a long yawn. Chris pulled you in and held you tightly against him. Feeling his warmth sent your back to the years when Chris had treated you like a princess as you fell asleep in his arms.

The next morning, you were up before Chris. You took Dodger out, letting him do his business. Once he came running in, you both went to the kitchen. You fed the pup his breakfast, and you went to make a pot of coffee. While it brewed, you went back to the room to get ready. You were picking out a pair of light blue skinny jeans, a casual black tee-shirt, and a couple of socks. You grabbed an extra pair of pants and one extra shirt for changing.

As you got out of the closet, you looked over to the bed to see Chris sleeping on his stomach and sprawled over the bed. Sighing, you crawled over the couch and bent down to him. You placed a kiss on his nose, and he moaned. Before you can get up, his strong arms wrapped around you and held you close to him.

“Don’t go to work, babe.” He told you in his deep groggy voice. Your body went instantly into a puddle of mush. You had to admit that his voice is your weakness, and Chris knows it.

“Babe, I have errands to do, but I’ll promise to be home before 6.” You told him. Chris groaned and pulled you in closer. His body heat came towards you, and you felt cozy. You looked behind you at the clock and realized you still had some time before heading in. Turning back to Chris, you smiled.

“I have an extra hour.”

“Oh, I’ll make it worth your time-"

That following afternoon, you walked into the office, taking off your apron and dumped it into the hamper. Taking a seat at the desk, you picked up your phone to see that you got a few missed calls. You went to your recent contacts to know that you had a few missed calls from your sister Cass, Scott, and Diana. Again, like last night you made it a point to call them back. Just not at this moment. You looked at the time. On your phone, you sighed and went to grab your things. You needed to do your errands before you headed to your appointment. As you headed out, you told your manager Denise that you're heading out, and that you would be getting supplies for the store. You got in your car and was off.

After grabbing the supplies that you needed for the bakery, you headed back into Newton General. As you pulled into the parking lot, your phone rang, and Scott’s dramatic face appeared on the screen. You sighed and pressed the green button.

Scott, I’m a bit busy right now.

I know, but can you spare at least 10 minutes?

You looked at the time on your dashboard and sighed.

Fine, what is it?

Look, I know you're mad at me, and I deserve it. But I had to tell Chris because I was put on a tight spot. I left my phone out by accident, and that’s how he found out.

You closed your eyes and let out a long-annoyed sigh.

That doesn’t give an excuse Scott. I trusted you with that secret. But it doesn't matter now, because we are working this whole relationship out again.

I know, but I feel really bad about it and also because I miss talking with you. We need to hang out soon. Miss you shorty.

You had to admit, you do miss your best friend, and you have been through a lot with Scott. He's seen you cry when one of ex broke up with you, seen you at your worst, and this situation with Chris.

I know Scott, I miss you too. But what’s done is done. It will take some time for me to accept you back.

Can we at least meet somewhere to talk, at least?

That I can do. I’ll message you when I’m free.

And with that, you both hung up. You took your keys out of the ignition and got out.

Chris pulled up and parked in front of the bakery knowing that you would still be at the store before you left for your errands. He missed you and decided to see you and maybe have lunch with you if you weren’t too busy. Before Chris got out of the car, he picked up his phone to call you, but your phone went straight to voicemail. Hanging up, he figured that you're busy or got a head start on your errands.

Chris got out of the car and walked straight to the front of the door. The moment Chris walked in, he was immediately hit with the sweet scent of baked goods. It reminded him when you would come home, and he could smell the sugar and dough on you. He would often tease you about it, and it gave him an excuse to shower with you. Chris looked around and headed to the counter. He noticed the ladies talking, and obviously, it was about him. He couldn’t help but chuckle. Chris cleared his throat, and the ladies stopped talking, and they all looked up, and their eyes widened.

“Hi welcome to Sweet Desire, how can-" Sara started.

“Hi welcome Mr. Evans, how can I help you?” Denise asked. Chris gave his genuine smile, and it looked like she forgot to breathe.

“Is Y/N in at the moment?” Chris asked. Denise blinked for a moment and smiled.

“Oh, she left a while ago. She had an errand and an appointment.” Chris heard her say. His cheeks started to burn, and he can feel his anger begin to rise.

“Oh, did she say where?” Chris asked. Denise shrugged her shoulders. Chris thanked Denise and walked out of the store.

Getting into his car, Chris slammed the door, and he gripped onto the steering wheel. Cursing a few times and turns on his vehicle while he tries to call your cell a few more times but it continues to go straight to voicemail.

He texted you to give him a call right away hoping that you would reply but still got no answer and his message was left unread. He decided to speed off home hoping to find you there.

Today's appointment was to check on your baby to see how it's doing. After all that you've been through, your little bean is a fighter. You heard your baby's heartbeat, and you smiled with joy. The doctor couldn’t tell the sex of the baby yet, so you would have to wait a few more months.

The door opened as the doctor returned, distracting you from your thoughts. Your doctor took a seat in front of you as he opened your chart and began to explain things to you. Especially what not to do, what you can eat and what you should avoid, and what your diet should be for now. He went over what type of prenatals and vitamins you need to take during your pregnancy. You wrote it down and made a mental note to go grocery shopping with Chris later in the week. Before you left the office, his nurse called you back since you left a section on the paperwork blank. She handed it back to you to fill out. You took a look and realized why it was left blank. It was asking the name of the child's father.

You stared at the paper for a moment, and your mind went racing. Here you were, trying to figure out if you should put Chris’s name down. You are giving Chris another chance. But you can't get your mind around the fact that you can’t trust him. It's going to take a long time for you to do so.

You stood there staring at the paper without realizing the nurse was calling your name a few times.

“Miss Y/N, it’s okay. You don’t have to fill it out.” The nurse said as she held out her hand with a smile. You sighed in relief and handed her the papers back..

Once everything was squared away, you headed to your car and turned your phone back on as you started your car to head home. While driving you noticed a few text messages from Chris. Letting out a sigh you ignore it as you continue to drive. Suddenly your phone rang, and Chris's name appeared on your dash. You sighed and pressed the green button.

Hey, what’s up?

Where are you?

I’m driving home, why is there something wrong? Did you need me to get something?

No, I was just wondering. I’ll wait until you get home.

And with that, Chris hung up the phone. Rolling your eyes, you continued your journey home. Pulling up to the driveaway, you got out of the car and headed towards the front of the house. You walked in and called out for Chris. You can hear the TV, but he didn’t respond. Sighing, you took off your shoes, placed your bag to the side, and headed to the main den.

You saw Chris sitting down, with the remote in his hand and CNN playing in the background. You stood there for a moment, waiting for Chris to say something to you, but he didn’t, and you went to the kitchen to get something to drink. While you opened the fridge, you turned around to see Chris standing next to the kitchen entrance, and his arms crossed against his chest.

“How was your day?” Chris asked, with a stern look on his face. You looked at Chris and sighed.

“It was good, and I got the things I needed to get done. How about you?” You asked. Chris clicked his tongue and let out an annoyed sighed.

“It was good until I stopped by the bakery.” He said. You stared at Chris for a moment and placed your water bottle down.

“What time did you go?” You asked, crossing your arms against your chest. Chris dropped his arms, and his hands curled into fists.

“I wanted to see you, but you weren’t there. One of your employees told me that you had an appointment today.” Chris told you, as he was talking towards you.

“Yes, I had an appointment today.” You told him, truthfully. Chris growled, and his hands slammed against the fridge door above you, making you flinched.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I thought we are in this together?! You lied to me!” Chris yelled. You frowned and managed to duck under him, and he turned around to face you.

“Okay, well, I didn’t tell you because I don’t trust you.” You said. You saw Chris's breathing, becoming more heavier. You knew that was a sign that he was about to burst. But you've been through it, no big deal…right?

“What do you mean, you don’t trust me? I thought you are coming back to me, and we are going to work things out?” Chris asked. You stared at Chris for a good minute and burst out into laughter.

“Oh Chris, you still don’t understand, do you? Fyi, your idea of trust is the opposite of what we are trying to achieve. Trust is built over time, with both sides on the same page, and it doesn’t happen magically overnight. You broke promises after promises. All the trust we built over the years has been flushed down the drain. I'm still surprised that I'm still trying to work this out with you after so many empty promises and broken trust. If you want this relationship to continue, then you have to deal with this until I can trust you fully again. I don't have enough strength to be waiting for you to get there." You said, turning around and headed towards the front door. You heard Chris call for you, but you kept walking until you felt him grab your arm. He spun you around, and you glared at him.

“What are you doing?!” You yelled, trying to yank your hand away from Chris.

“Don’t you walk out on me like you did last time.” Chris reminded you. You finally freed your hand and bit your bottom lip, preventing you from screaming.

“Yes I did , and I can and will do it again.” You said and headed to the front. You heard his footsteps, behind you and before you can even get to the door, Chris stepped in front of you.

“Chris!” You yelled. You looked into his eyes, and they were turning red, and tears were falling down his cheeks.

“Don’t, please,” Chris begged you. Without hesitation, you reached for your bag and car keys. You pushed him out of the way and opened the door. You felt him take your hand and held onto it tightly.

“I can’t be in here right now.” You said one last time and walked out.

You spend hours driving and crying at the same time. You didn’t know where to go, but you couldn’t be in the house with Chris. And you needed to cool down because you didn’t want to cause any stress on your baby. Then you thought about the spot that Andy had told you about in Newton. The Pond that your parents used to take you. So you made a few exits, towards Newton and headed towards your destination.

You found some parking to the side of the road and parked your car. You got you and headed down the pathway. It was quiet, with birds chirping away, the leaves of the trees can be heard as the wind blew slightly. Once you got to your destination, there were a few people over there. You were walking and saw people fishing as well. You inhaled, and the scent of the pine lingered your nose.

You started your walk and let your mind wander around. The fight you had with Chris, and many other things, like your baby growing in your belly. As you walked, you went to find the place that Andy took you too. But once you found it, you saw a familiar person. The thick brunette hair, full beard, and his blue jacket. It was Andy, and your heart started to beat out of your chest. You took a step forward but stepped back. You did that a few more times and finally decided to find another spot.

“Y/N?” You heard that familiar, soothing voice. You composed yourself and turned around to see Andy standing up from the bench that he was sitting on and faced you.

“Oh- hi Andy-” You said, stuttering your words. Your heart was still beating out of your chest, and you didn’t know how or why it was beating so fast. Andy smiled at you, and you felt your cheeks start to burn.

“I didn’t expect you to be here,” Andy asked, as you made your way over to him. Then you took a seat next to him, and Andy followed shortly.

You and Andy sat in silence for a moment, and you were looking down at the ground and Andy fiddling with fingers.

“There must be a reason you came here?” You asked Andy as you looked towards him. Andy gave a hearty laugh, and he faced you.

“Well, I have a reason which is I had a long tough week in the office and have a lot on my mind. And I assume you're here because you have a lot on your mind too?” Andy asked. You sighed and nodded.

“I too had a long tough week as well.” You said. Your phone rang, as Andy was about to say something. You knew who it was, but you ignored it. You let it ring the first time, but it rang the second time. Andy noticed, and he sighed.

“I think you should get that,” Andy said, and you shook your head. You let out another annoyed sigh.

“I’m guessing it's about your fiancée?” He asked you. You looked straight at him.

“How-“

“Y/N, I’m a lawyer. I can read facial expressions.” He said.

“Is it that obvious?” You asked. Andy giggled and nodded his head.

“Andy, what would you do if you had a friend that went back to their toxic significant other?” You asked. Andy looked at you, knowing that it was you that you were talking about.

“Well, I’d tell your friend that she should get out as soon as possible because it's not healthy,” Andy said. Your hands started fidgeting, and Andy placed his hand on top of yours. Your headshot up, and he looked straight at you.

“You don’t have to beat around the bush, to tell me that it’s your friend Y/N when it's obviously you that wants the answer,” Andy told you. You closed your eyes, and your tears came down your face.

“I want this to work, Andy. Yes, he broke me so many times. I just-“

“I know you do. As much, as I hate that dick of man, and how he is treating you. I can see that you want this to work.” Andy told you.

“But at the same time, he broke my heart so many times. I can’t trust him.” You said. Andy sighed and held onto your hand tighter.

Chris walked back and forth, with his phone in his hands. He was listening to what Scott had to say to him. Just five minutes ago, Chris had explained to his brother what happened, and again, Scott yelled at him. Scott had told Chris just to leave her alone and that she would come around. But does he listen? No.

So, you are telling me to stay put and wait for Y/N to come home?

Yes, Chris. You have to wait until she comes home. You need to let her cool down and don’t forget that she’s pregnant. You can’t put any more stress on her.

Chris groaned and went to get his car keys. Scott heard the noises, and he too groaned in frustration.

Christopher Robert Evans, please don’t tell me you're in the car and about to leave to look for her?

You bet your ass I am. I’m not about to sit on my ass and wait for her. I’ve called her several times and she’s not answering me.

Hence the part she wants to be left alone because you just pissed her off!

And with that, he hung up the phone.

Chris drove around to any possible place he could find her. He even went as far as calling her sister Cass. But she, too, didn’t know where she was. Getting frustrated, Chris gave up after driving for an hour. He went back home and had hoped that Scott was right, and by the time he would be home, you would be there. But that wasn’t the case, because as he drove up the driveway, your car wasn’t there.

You pulled up into the driveway and got out of the car. You walked up to the front door and opened it. Taking off your shoes, you headed towards the kitchen to only see Chris sitting in the main den. The same place that you last saw him at. You made your way towards him and took a seat next to him. He had his hands on his face and his elbows on his thighs. You reached for his hand and held it into yours. Chris looked towards you, and his face lit up.

“I left the house, I was hoping to look for you, and I called you,” Chris told you, as he turned to face you and still held onto your hand.

“I appreciate that, Chris. I know you want to right the wrongs you did and wish things can go back as it was before. But you have to understand that you have to earn what you lost with me. You have to learn the consequences of your actions. I’m not going to leave you, Chris, because I want this to work. You’re the father of this growing human inside of me.” You said, to Chris. Chris looked at you with his blue eyes and then let go of your hand.

Chris told you that he would be right back and ran to the bedroom. Then he ran back into the den and took a seat next to you. He held out a plain black box in front of you.

“Y/N, I want this to work, and I want you in my life. I know I messed up in the past, and nothing can fix it. But I can be a better man now, for you and our baby. I’m sorry about our fight earlier and getting mad about you not telling about the appointment. I deserved that, but I want you, I want all of you. Marry me.” Chris told you as you look at him and back at the black box in front of you and back to Chris who was waiting for an answer.

@denisemarieangelina @jtargaryen18 @icanfeelastormbrewing @patzammit @what-is-your-plan-today @what-just-happened-bro @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @onetwo3000 @coralwombatwhispers @kawairinrin @iluvsumbucky @ghostin8 @honeyevanz @waywardodysseys @navybrat817 @rainbowkisses31 @katiew1973 @evansislife @worthypieceofshit @nickysurfer28 @bellaireland1981 @speechlessxx @jamesbarnesappreciationclub @lovinevans @shellbilee @lexeeehhh @commanderrykov @hisuniverse @a17ofjuly @chris-butt

#Chris Evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x female reader #chris evans angst #chris evans drama #andy barber #andy barber x female reader #andy barber drama #joann's better with you

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morceid · 4 years

Text

Buttery, Tear-stained, and Perfect

SPENCER REID X DEREK MORGAN

Summary: Derek comforts Spencer after the untimely death of his mother

Word count: 1164

Category: whump

Content Warnings: major character death, grief

A/N: thank you @jemilys for helping me decide if this should be a moreid fic or dad spencer fic. ily 💋

Spencer Reid loved sending letters to his mother. He bought vintage style stationary just for her. For him it was just some stationary, but to Diana, it was everything. It was like a secret sign of trust that reassured Diana that she was getting letters from her son. From the only person that still truly cared for her through her mental illness.

Spencer much preferred talking through letters than over the phone. There were certain things you could portray through writing that you just couldn’t over the phone. And even though Spencer’s eidetic memory would keep him from forgetting, the sight of the permanent words on paper meant so much to him. It would keep Diana alive not only in his memory, but also through her trembling but flowy handwriting.

Lately, the letters became less and less. It wasn’t unusual for her to do so especially considering her declining condition. Then one day, they were in New Jersey for a case. It was rough for everyone. They had been there for a week trying to search for the unsub. Sometimes if Spencer was on a case for this long he would ask his building manager to send the letter to wherever he was, but the thought hadn’t crossed his mind yet.

Until she was walking into the New Jersey police precinct.

“Mrs. Boswell? What are you doing here?”

“Spencer. You received some mail recently and they said they were gonna call you but I think it might be better if you heard this from me, I just-”

Almost as if on cue, Spencer’s phone started ringing.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Boswell, I have to take this, it’s the facility my mom is at.”

As Spencer put the phone up to his ear, he heard the beginning of the fateful message. He had thought of it and studied it for years. From the day he admitted her. Sometimes he spent entire nights reading over the message and memorizing it. It was the message the clinic sent to you when your loved one passed away. It had been a frequently asked question as to what the message about the death of a loved one would sound like from the clinic and Spencer dreaded the day he would get it since he was 18.

“Hello, this is an automated voice message for DR SPENCER REID,” the computerized voice spewed. “We regret to inform you that patient number 81256813, DIANA REID has passed. WE send our love to you and your former loved one. Call this number for more info. 1-800…”

The voice became clouded in Spencer’s mind by his own thoughts. It hadn’t even hit him that Derek had walked out of the area they had set up and was now calling his name. His mind swam with thoughts of “Who am I without my mom?” and “how could she be gone?” and finally “So that’s why Mrs. Boswell is here. They sent all of her belongings.” but that was the quietest thought of them all.

Before Spencer could control himself he was stumbling backward and into the arms of his coworker. He felt himself about to drift from consciousness and when he woke up he was still in Derek’s arms. Derek nor his unit chief knew why Spencer had passed out until they talked to Mrs. Boswell. Hotch ordered Derek to take Spencer back to the hotel room and to let him settle, at least until he woke up.

Spencer was curled up into Derek’s side and his tears had been streaming down his face, onto Derek’s black button up. He planned on keeping his eyes closed for a little while longer, just to savor the moment, but there was a knock on the door that penetrated the silence and made Spencer sit up fast.

“The door is unlocked, Hotch.” Derek called, putting his arm onto Spencer’s shoulder and pulling the pale man back to his body.

Hotch opened the door and walked in holding the box of mail Mrs. Boswell had when she had entered the police station. He set it on the edge of bed and pat Spencer’s knee in his odd, dad-like way.

“Sorry to hear about your mother. You don’t have to work the rest of the case if you don’t want to.”

“Thanks, Hotch.”

Hotch left the room as soon as he had entered, leaving Spencer and Derek to talk.

Spencer, still sitting in Derek’s lap, leaned forward and opened the box. Tears spilled from his eyes again and he pulled out her old scrapbook. Derek still had an arm around him and the two flipped through the pages together. There were occasional chuckles from Derek who was laughing at the pictures of Spencer when he was little.

“You know what my favorite thing is in here?” Spencer flipped to a page nearer to the front of the book, around the college age pages. “Her peach cobbler recipe. It was so simple, but she made it every year on my birthday, without fail. It’s just peaches, box cake mix, and butter, but it’s the best thing i’ve ever eaten in my life.”

Spencer turned towards Derek and realized how close they were. He felt Derek’s warm breath ghost over his lips and saw every single fleck of sincerity in his eyes. They glistened despite the dark molasses color they were. He closed the small distance between them with his lips and moved his right hand from the leather bound book to Derek’s chin. He pulled him by the chin just a little bit so Derek’s lips would part much like his mother did when she was making sure he was listening.

As soon as Derek let Spencer’s tongue enter his mouth Spencer pulled away.

“I- I’m sorry I just- ah- let’s just get back to the book. I- uh, I used to beg my mom to laminate the recipe because she would always get it covered in butter. But I guess now it’s covered in tears.” Spencer chuckled through his last words but his tears were coming out faster, harder, and more plentiful than they had before.

“Hey, kid,” Derek took Spencer’s cheek in his hand, forcing Spencer to look at him. “Don’t be sorry. And don’t say anything about me just being empathetic. Because I have wanted to do that for such a long time, and if you noticed I didn’t pull away. You’re sitting in my lap for christs’ sake! Come here.”

Derek closed the distance once again, this time getting a proper feeling of the kiss. Spencer tasted of every single sweet thing in existence, along with a slight saltiness from his tears. His lips were like pillows on a bed he could lie on for hours. Derek felt his own eyes prick with tears of happiness as he pulled away.

“When we get home from this case, I promise you, I will make you that peach cobbler.”

“Really?”

“Of course, Spencer. This recipe is buttery, tear-stained, and perfect.”

#moreid #derek morgan #spencer reid #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds hurt/comfort #whump?#tw death #death tw #major character death #fanfiction #fic #fanfic #spencer reid x derek morgan #spencer reid whump #derek morgan whump #diana reid

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years

Text

tapestry 👑 IV

Warnings: eventual dark elements (tags to be added as fic continues)

This is dark!(king)Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

Summary: King Steven had a wandering eye but you never thought it would fall upon you.

This Chapter: The king sends a message.

Note: It’s part 4 and it might be a little longer before 5 because I work all night and have teaching work to catch up on tomorrow but hoping that Wednesday will be our next update. But I’m still loving this and hope you are too.

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply! Love ya!

The women tittered as they gathered in the feast hall in pairs and trios. You stood with Marion, her round face was carefree and eager for the day’s activities. The harvest celebration approached and so the Queen intended to arrange her annual spectacle.

The more plentiful the harvest the more extravagant the entertainment. This year had been generous; peasant and noble alike splendoured in the reaping. A selection of lords and ladies would perform a dance for the court, all the while dressed in costume.

You’d never been chosen before to partake in the display. You were clumsy and forgettable. You were content to sit and watch. This year was different; the queen herself requested your part. You loathed the prospect but accepted out of courtesy. After all, you’d rather the court laugh at your graceless feet than whisper of your alleged misconduct.

Rose preened as she always did. She was the best dancer of the bunch, no doubt she'd have a big role, even with her standing as the queen's rival. She was with Joan, Mary, and Beatrice; chattering behind their hands as if their topic were covert. They never strayed far from their gossip of the king. The gifts he sent to Rose and the ways he liked her to wear her hair.

Though it seemed she was not so giddy about him as before. At least, she showed off her pin quite passively. You recognized it. It wasn't new but it was still rather enviable. A ruby rose.

"Of course, the king has been distracted," Her voice rose above the rest. "The queen is jealous and she tries to draw him from me. She has pets of her own, you know?"

"Nothing compared to you," Beatrice trilled. "The king will catch onto that plain little tart. He will hear the queen's voice in hers."

You glanced over at the four ladies as they giggled. Rose's blue eyes met yours sharply. She grinned and raised her chin.

"Surely he will. He will realize soon enough and have me back in his arms. He thinks this trick will make me love him more but he does not know I love him more than anything already." She stared at you as she spoke. "I suspect he loves me too. It scares him so he shies away."

You turned your back to her. You didn't want to think of the king. Or recall the box and how it felt in your hands. The temptation to open it. The glimmer in his eye as you returned it to him. As you stood in the shadows, in his shadow, as he loomed over you.

"I know well enough of her type. And did you ever wonder why she's never even a proposal?" Rose raised her voice. "Simple enough to assume her hideousness, but a man can marry any woman so long as she promises him an heir." She spoke softly though her voice carried. "Gentleman don't marry whores, especially those without title or coin to offer."

"Lady Rose," The queen stood at the front of the hall. None had noticed her enter and so they acted as if they had not heard the gossiping mistress. All froze and turned to look at their leader. "My court is not a den of such ribaldry."

"Your highness," Rose squeaked as she bowed her head. "I did not--"

"Pray I never hear you speak thus again or you shall be sent back to your father's castle and I will make certain you will not see the light of this court again." The queen bristled as she neared the ladies. "Not even the convent will take you."

The ladies were silent. You gaped at the queen and she glanced at you among the group. She nodded subtly as she took a deep breath and stood staunch before her ladies-in-waiting.

"Now let us remember our manners as we are soon to welcome the king and his men. I will not have them think I lead a pack of vicious cats."

"I apologize most--” Rose began.

"I expect you to gird your tongue." Eleanor interjected. "Don't think I do not notice your insolence. Do not think yourself above my authority." The queen spun and motioned to Diana. "Show the dance master in. The king should arrive with his men shortly."

The room went silent and you looked to Marion. She was pale as she stared back at you. You slowly retreated to the wall and she followed. You were careful to stay far from Rose. You kept your head down and wished this all would be over soon. Perhaps Eleanor would see your footwork and dismiss you from the performance. It would be better for all.

“Do you think the queen knows of the gift?” Marion whispered.

“I hope not. And if she should, I would hope she would take into account my refusal.” You spoke with your face turned away from the room. “That she realizes I have no want of turmoil. No desire to wrong her.”

“Even so, the king has turned his eye on you. Any wife would be concerned.” Marion prodded.

“But I do not look back at him. I do not seek his attentions nor his company.” You played with the hem of your sleeve. “Let him run back to Rose and leave me as I was.”

“Do you think he will?”

“I dare not think if he should not.” You muttered. “I pray he does not.”

Marion could not pry further as the doors opened again. The dance master followed Diana through and a rise of voices sounded not far behind. Bawdy and bold. The king entered alongside Lord Barnes, the dozen other men trailed in a similar attitude. Boisterous as if it were the night of the banquet.

“Husband,” Eleanor greeted above the rabble. “At last.”

“My wife. We tarried at our game but we do hope you forgive us.” He peered around the room with a broad smile. You shied away before his eye could find yours. “Regardless of our delay, we are most excited to begin.”

“And I am certain Master Ellard is most impatient to begin,” Eleanor alluded to the dance master. “So shall we proceed?”

The king took her remonstrance with a nod. “As you will.” His voice betrayed an ounce of displeasure but he hid it with a gracious smile.

“We must first pair off,” The queen announced as she clapped her hands. “You shall be my partner, as custom should have it, the king and queen of the harvest.” Eleanor hooked her arm through the kings and led him to the front of the hall where Ellard waited with a pointed look.

“Lady Diana with Lord Callum, Lady Mabel with Lord Samuel…” She listed off the names one after the other and the pairs found each other. Your name rang in your ears and drew you from your place against the wall. “...Lord Barnes.”

The king’s brow rose as he watched his most favoured lord approach you. You avoided his gaze as it fell on you and Lord Barnes bowed to you. You curtsied and stood a foot apart from him. The queen beamed at you before she continued.

“Lady Rose with Lord Alan…”

Rose scowled as she swept across the room. The elder lord was a perpetual bachelor and an overt flirt, but he held high title and great lands. If he were to ever marry, his wife would want for little.

When all were assigned, Eleanor led Steven to the front row of the audience as Ellard took his place with his assistant. The queen was the first to mimic his stance as she took the king’s hand. The rest did the same but you didn’t move until you felt a tickle along the back of your hand.

“Pardon, my lady,” Barnes whispered. “But I think we’re supposed to follow along.”

You looked to him and nodded. You let him raise your hand and did your best to copy the first step, then the next. The master repeated each several times before moving on then counted as he strung together eight in a row. You chewed your lip as you struggled to avoid your partner’s feet and your own.

Your humiliation went on, several toes beneath your sole, before you remembered it well enough to look up. You peeked over at Lord Barnes but he seemed entirely unbothered by your assault. In fact he caught your eye and smiled.

“Your majesty,” Master Allard paused. “I think your lords and ladies might benefit from a brief respite.” He looked around the room. “And we may take it from the top after.”

“I am certain they would,” Eleanor said. “Let us resume shortly.”

She clapped her hands again and the audience let out a communal breath of relief. You rescinded your hand and pressed your sweaty palm to your skirt. Barnes remained at your side even as others began to shuffle around to meet each other.

“My lady,” He turned to you amid the shuffle, “I don’t know if you recall but we did share another dance. Once. Long ago.”

“I remember it, but not fondly,” You cringed. “I would’ve hoped you’d forget.”

“It was not so bad.”

“You swore each time I trod on your toes,” You remarked. “Though you seem to have learned to censor yourself.”

“You’ve improved...marginally.” He grinned. “The best partner’s are memorable, not perfect.”

You smiled as graciously as you could. You looked away shyly and found another watching. Steven stood with Eleanor though he barely seemed to notice her as she spoke to him. He stared openly across the hall and you tore your eyes away. You shifted and tried to hide behind Lord Barnes.

“You flatter me, Lord Barnes.”

“James,” He offered. “Many call me Bucky.”

“Lord Barnes.” You repeated.

He smiled at you and you glanced away again. His gaze was too much. You found Rose not far from you, another glare sent across the room. She watched the king with venom as he gawked at you. You pinched your finger nervously and tried to focus on the lord before you.

“I am sure you long for a more skilled partner,” You said. “I haven’t an inkling how I’ve come to be included in this.”

“Do you not?” He wondered. His brow twitched knowingly.

“I do not trouble to untangle the webs of court,” You mulled. “They are much too knotted to unwind.”

He nodded thoughtfully but before he could speak again, another clap sounded. The queen raised her hand to signal silence and called the room back to order. You inhaled as the king’s gaze lingered on you a moment before he turned his back.

Ellard took his spot before the rows of nobles and again your hand was seized. This time and unusual texture against your palm. You looked down as Lord Barnes let you go and you turned over the parchment. You gulped and quickly tucked the paper up your sleeve as he reached for you again.

You raised your eyes to his and he bowed his head.

“I have faith in you, lady,” He leaned in as he spoke. “With enough practice, any dance is done well enough to keep one’s toes from being trampled.”

👑

‘A woman unlike any I’ve ever known…’

You re-read the letter again. The same slanted hand as the first. You were tempted to hold it to the candle flame and leave it to ash. However you feared what should happen if you didn't even acknowledge the king's message. You couldn't ignore him.

You thought to show the queen. She had offered her help but you doubted she'd be amiable upon seeing a love letter from her husband to another woman. That's what it was; a love letter. The thought made you even more want to crumple it up.

What had you done to deserve his attention? What terrible sin had you committed that you were cursed to find yourself in one catastrophe after another? Your self pity threatened to drown you as you folded up the letter and shoved it in your journal and under your mattress. You longed to be the forgotten and unworthy.

You looked at the other ladies. Marion mended a stocking, Joan read some book or another, and Sybil laid on her back staring at the ceiling. You'd woken early for mass as you did every day and now you waited for the queen to send for you.

When a knock came, it was not the queen's lady servant. It was your father footman, Rulf. The older man was balding and crooked. He bowed slowly and coughed into his hand before he found his voice.

"My lady," He began. "Your father requests your presence."

"My father?" You frowned. "Has he stated his purpose?"

Rulf shook his head and grumbled. He turned back down the hall without awaiting your acquiescence. You sighed and followed him, pulling shut the door behind you. It was easy to catch up to him as he ambled stiffly along the corridor.

When he stopped before you father's chamber, you were antsy and impatient. Had your father heard of your disobedience? What other reason could there be for his summons? Yet, even with the prospect of his wrath before you, you did not regret it.

Rulf knocked softly before he entered. You stopped dead in the doorway as he waved you inward. Your father sat behind his desk but a visitor already occupied the seat across from him.

The king rose as you entered and your father mirrored him. You bowed and the king lowered his head. He beamed as he lifted his eyes and your father wore a self-satisfied smirk. Your lips parted then closed. You were entirely flustered.

"Forgive me, my lady, but since you requested a formal audience I have arranged this meeting." The king's irises thinned as he stared. "Your father has given his blessing."

"You...your highness," You stuttered and your father tilted his head in warning.

"Sit, daughter," Your father said sternly.

You hesitantly stepped inside. Rulf closed the door behind you. You went to the bench that sat not far from the king and sat. Both men watched you, each with their own expectations. Neither you longed to please.

"I do not mean to surprise you, I was only impatient," The king sat as your father remained on his feet. "I trust this setting should suffice and you've no reason to object."

You gulped and nodded. "Y-your highness," You stuttered. "I...do not."

"Forgive me but I have a pressing matter to attend to with Lord Hale. I shall leave Rulf to oversee this meeting if it suits you, your highness."

"It suits me well," The king didn't bother to look at your father.

It wasn't difficult to guess that this farce was staged. Rulf was growing deaf and barely aware. He came when called and did as he was bid. Nothing more or less.

Your father bowed and backed out from behind his desk. As he neared the door he glanced back at you. You sent him a pleading look, he returned a cold sneer. A silent warning before he slipped out into the hall.

"Your father is a busy man." Steven began. "A generous one, too."

"Your highness." You couldn't lie to the king so you didn't offer comment at all.

He shifted in his chair. "Did you read my letter?"

"I did." You answered tersely.

"And you…" He searched your face. "... didn't like it?"

"Your highness, you must understand that such a letter is untoward. You are married."

"To a woman who despises me. Who I can only visit on the duty of such a union, yet she bears me no heirs. She offers me no reciprocity." He leaned forward. "And so you see, I stray out of loneliness. Out of dejection."

"It does not change that you are married and I am unwed. I must reserve myself for my future husband." You said. "Or I haven't much of a future at all."

"Is it so wrong of me to desire your company? It need not be anything more than innocent? I long for a companion. For a respite from my loneliness."

"Perhaps that is your intent but it would not be the interpretation of the court." You insisted. "And what effect do you think it would have upon my reputation? You are a king, untouched by menial courtly intrigue but a lady, a mere daughter of an earl, could be ruined."

"You are repulsed by me." He sat back heavily, a pitiable expression lined his face. "You needn't lie, my lady. I may be a king but I can take it."

"You know that is not the reason for my reticence." You countered.

"Then what is it?" He asked as he slapped his hand on his thigh. "Is it truly my wife? Is it Lady Rose? Perhaps it is both." He huffed and hung his head dramatically. "You must know, they matter little to me. My queen is cold and hateful and the lady is selfish and ungiving. They bring me great pain. They torture me."

You shook your head. "And how should I measure your words as you speak of them thus? How am I to think that if I even thought to yield to you that you would not one day feel the same of me?" You stood. "I cannot."

He rose and came towards you. He reached out to you and his hand grazed your sleeve as you backed away. "I could never. You cannot possibly understand what you've done to me. I think of nothing else but you. I cannot rid myself of you no matter how I try. I think of my queen, of my obligation to her and my kingdom but you will not leave me."

"You do not know me. You cannot feel so." Your legs were pressed against the bench as you were trapped between him and it. "I will not betray myself nor my queen. I have never longed to be a mistress but a wife only."

He took your hand and you resisted the urge to draw away from him. His thumb brushed over your fingers as he admired them. You trembled though you tried not to. His grip tightened suddenly.

"Perhaps you've never dared to long for it," His voice was as steely as his grip. His eyes flicked up to yours. "But you will be mine. As your king, I will it."

You tugged until he released you. Rulf cleared his throat, whether it was coincidence or discomfort, you didn't care. The noise had the king retreating.

"I swear to you, my lady, that nothing, no one, can keep me from you." He puffed his chest out. "And you need not fear whatever enemies arise for I will strike them down."

"Your highness, that is not…"

"I can be patient, for you my lady, I can wait," He vowed. "I will wait so long as you should need me to."

Your mouth fell open. You couldn't guess if he was mad or maniacal. Surely his words were anything but genuine. You could barely speak.

"Your highness, you cannot."

"I shall, I shall," He insisted. "My queen be damned. Lady Rose too." He declared as he turned to march to the door. He turned back and placed his hand on his chest. "None but you, my lady."

He pulled the door open. You were dumbfounded. All you could do was bow as he departed. His boots sounded down the corridor and Rulf coughed. You looked to the aged servant as his eyes drooped. Was he asleep on his feet?

"My lady," He said quietly. "I daresay he meant it."

You lowered your head and sighed. Your father's mole had heard it all. No doubt he'd relay it back to his master. You righted yourself and stilled your shaking hands.

"Tell my father I regret that I could not await his return but the queen should wonder at my absence." You neared the door, your feet tentative as they traced the king's. "Thank you, Rulf."

"My lady," He nodded as his eyes once more turned to slits. "I will let him know."

#Steve Rogers #king!steve #dark!steve rogers #dark steve rogers #medieval au #au #series #fic #tapestry #dark steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers x reader #mcu #marvel #dark!fic #captain america #dark fic #bucky barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes

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peterxwade24 · 4 years

Text

BWYD Chapter 2

Damian and Marinette Begin to Get Along

Bruce, in full Batman gear, sat around the table in the Watchtower with his ever present scowl on his face. Clark, dressed as Superman, sat across from him with his eyes squinting trying to figure out what was causing his best friend to scowl more.

Hal Jordan sat in front of one of the computers, reviewing footage from around the world despite the organization being called the Justice League of America. Booster Gold, sat to Hal’s left, was listening to phone messages and rolling his eyes at certain more prankish sounding phone calls.

Diana, from the head of the table, looked around the room before she looked at Bruce. “What ails you so Batman?” Bruce’s head snapped up at the sound of her voice and she raised an eyebrow.

“What makes you think I’m distracted?” Bruce’s voice came out weaker than it usually did. “I can’t tell them about my daughter” raced through his head. “Why do you ask?”

Clark raised an eyebrow at his friend before he watched Bruce check his phone.

“Actually, I need to make a call. You know how the boys are.” Bruce got up from the table and went out into the hallway.

Clark and Diana shared a look before the two followed to the door and listened in on their friend and colleague’s phone call.

“Hi Mon Chou.” Bruce’s voice took on a soft tone. “I know I said I’d be there to tuck you in tonight but things are running late at work.”

“That’s okay,” the voice on the other end of the line was quiet and caused Clark and Diana to raise their eyebrows at each other. “You called, that’s all that really matters.”

“Were your brothers nice to you?” Bruce’s tone took on that same tone he used on all of his kids. “What did you and Alfred bake today?”

The girl, because none of Bruce’s sons’ had voices high enough for it, giggled. “We made cream puffs!” The girl yawned, sounding like a kitten.

“Tiny Bat. You know it’s past your bedtime.” Dick’s voice sounded from the other end of the line.

“I know. But,” Clark and Diana could only assume the girl thrust the phone into Dick’s hands because the next thing they heard was his voice.

“You don’t have to call to check up on how we’re treating her. A simple text will suffice.” Dick sounded exasperated with Bruce and Clark and Diana shared a look. “However,” Clark and Diana pressed their ears against the door and looked at each other, “Damian wouldn’t stop glaring at her. So, you’ll have to talk to him when you get home.”

Bruce sighed, “of course. Put her back on.”

“Oiseau bleu is being overprotective again.” Her voice betrayed the fact that she was pouting and that pulled a laugh from Bruce. “It’s not nice to laugh.”

“He’s just being a good brother.” Bruce’s voice betrayed his smile and he let out a small chuckle. “I’ll be home soon, okay Mon Chou?”

“Okay.” The girl yawned again before her voice came one last time. “Bonne nuit.”

“Good night Mon Chou.” Bruce blew a kiss before he hung up the phone.

Clark and Diana scrambled back to their seats, moments before Bruce walked back into the room. Clark raised his eyebrow at Diana before she cleared her throat.

“What ails you?” Diana asked again, her tone more forceful.

“Just some drama at home. You know how Damian is.” Bruce dismissed her question with a wave of his hand.

Clark shot Diana a look and they both looked at Bruce.

Booster Gold shot Bruce a look over his shoulder. “There’s a call from Paris asking specifically for Batman.”

Bruce rose from his chair and strode towards the computer, plucking the headset off of Booster’s head. “Batman.”

The voice on the other end of the line sounded to be the same age as his youngest. “Hey, uh, Bat-dude. We, uh, Dudette’s friends, uh Kim and I, were wondering if we could see her. It’s been a year since we saw her last and we really miss her.”

Bruce’s face took on a contemplative expression before he shook his head. “I’m sure something can be arranged with her adoptive family.” He let out a sigh and pulled his phone out of the pouch on his belt. He sent a quick text to Alfred and smiled when he got the response. “How does next weekend sound?”

The boy on the other line let out a shocked gasp. “Yes sir Bat-dude! That sounds really cool!”

Batman nodded, and a rare smile spread across his face. “Okay. I’ll be in touch.” Batman nodded at Booster and Booster dropped the call. “I have to go.”

Batman strode from the room and left via Zeta tube. Clark and Diana gave Bruce a ten second head start before they called out “Bye!”

---

Bruce, dressed once again in sweatpants and his father’s t-shirt with slippers, walked from his office to the bedroom belonging to his youngest child. The smile on his face faltered when he opened the door and the bed was empty. He turned on his heel and walked down the hall, checking every bedroom and only receiving the same results. Empty beds.

Bruce reached the last room, belonging to Damian, and prayed that at least one of his kids was in their room. He looked in and swore when Damian also wasn’t in his room. He turned on his heel again and went to check the rest of the rooms.

On his way to the game room, the only room other than his own he hasn’t checked yet, he came across Diana and Clark. He scowled at the two but simply shrugged his shoulders. “Follow me.”

Rounding the corner, Bruce looked into the game room and was disappointed when there wasn’t a single trace of any of his kids. He let out a heavy sigh before turning to his friends. “What do you want?”

“To meet your new orphan.” Clark explained while Diana nodded.

“She’s asleep, or should be.” Bruce led the way to his own bedroom and quietly opened his door. The three adults saw all six of Bruce’s children on his bed, Damian curled around Marinette with Dick and Jason lying on the edges and Tim and Duke between them and the younger two. Damian’s hand was curled around Marinette’s own hand with each of their brother’s arms extended towards them.

Bruce smiled and took a picture of his six kids and sent it to his oldest three daughters.

Diana and Clark let out quiet “awes” and turned to their friend. “This is so cute. I didn’t think Damian liked anyone.” Clark’s overly jovial tone disturbed Dick and Jason, who both rolled off the bed without disturbing the other four sleeping bodies.

Jason stalked towards the man and got in his face. “Don’t you dare speak loudly. She just went down less than twenty minutes ago.” Jason’s voice was quiet but spoke leagues.

Dick glared at Clark and ushered the three adults out of the room, followed closely by Jason and himself, and pulled the door closed. “They were playing a game, Duke and Tiny Bat, and Tim and Damian burst into the room and disrupted their game. Tiny Bat laughed and then Damian turned on her. She yelled at Damian and ran off. Damian followed and slowly the rest of followed. We found them in your closet, Tiny Bat had tears on her face and was leaning against Damian’s chest.”

Jason nodded before he stepped up. “We picked up Pixie Pop, but Demon Spawn wouldn’t let go of her hand. We put them on the bed, then Replacement and Duke climbed in after them. We laid down for a moment and only woke up when Ray of Sunshine got loud.”

Bruce nodded before looking over at his two sons. “We’re going to Paris next weekend.”

#maribat #mlb x dc #ml x dc #ml crossover #mlb crossover #bruce wayne is a great dad #marinette deserves love and support #bruce wayne's youngest daughter

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iggy-of-fans · 4 years

Text

Of Being Ladybug 9

Previous Master List

The cons of not believing

(- - )

Tim looked at his phone in surprise. He’d been in Paris for only a week to help train the Miracles, and already Bruce was calling him? Was hell freezing over? Did someone die?!

“B?” Tim whispers, not wanting to wake up Stephanie. There is silence on the other line. Tim frowns and moves to the other room so he can turn on the video.

“Bruce?” he asks again, now looking at the brooding older man. He looked like Joker just shat in his coffee.

“Tim… I… when you were younger… how… what could I have done to support you more?” Bruce finally bit out. His pauses long and his eyes drawn together. Bruce was looking to the side and was speaking quietly. Tim recognized the room as Steph’s before she moved into his room. A new sibling? AH! Bruce had been petitioning to have the previous Ladybug brought under his custody. He’d been blocked and turned away every time. It seemed Diana was extremely excited to be teaching a new Ladybug, had in fact claimed her as her sister. Bruce had been told that he had enough children and that he didn’t need to “corrupt” another one.

“Is the new sister having a hard time adjusting? Shouldn’t you be asking Dick?” Tim asked, relieved no one died…again.

“… Marinette is fourteen and about to graduate high school this Christmas. She was tossed to the side by her family for some unknown reason. She was torn from her friends and responsibilities. Since receiving the Miraculous at thirteen, she has hardly had a minute to breath, let alone figure herself out. And when, by all rights, she should have had the time, Diana takes her, shaves all her hair off and tells her “[W]ith every hair that falls, a part of Marinette must die. As your new hair grows, Maria will grow as well.” She wasn’t allowed to sew or draw or bake or cook. She wasn’t allowed to do anything that had any connection to her previous life,” Bruce’s hands and jaw were clenched.

Tim frowned again. What?!

“Marinette trained from dawn to dusk, but was never allowed out of the house, nor to shadow her on missions. She was to study, to train, and to sit quietly and behave herself.”

“You’re kidding?! No wonder her friends here are so worried! They’ve been trying to contact her!” Tim growled. He felt ready to go hunt an Amazonian.

“What would you suggest I do? She thinks further ahead than anyone I know, has strategies and back-up strategies and back-ups for the back-ups. She has social anxiety, with a history of being bullied. She skipped grades and then stopped for some reason. She had the same teacher for years, despite having been bullied by classmates. I just… I need to hear from someone who is closer to her age and had similar problems. What can I do?” Bruce wiped his hand down his face. He looked so tired.

Tim sighed and thought back to when he was fourteen. He’d been Robin for three years by then already. What could he have used? More time together? More friends? More sleep? Did any of this help his new sister?

Tim shook his head, “I don’t know, B. I was more interested in being Robin than being a teenager. Time with you was always good. Sibling time with as well. Maybe call Dick. He’s always been the best adjusted out of all of us.”

Bruce just nodded, gave his half smile and was about to sign off when a light went off over his head.

“Tim, one last thing. Please look into the school and classmates for me. Something tells me Marinette was being held back against her will.”

Tim frowned more. He nodded before signing off and sending a message to the Miracle Team that Marinette would be able to speak in the next week and would video chat with them soon. He was about to text Jason when Stephanie called for him. He put his phone down and walked back to bed.

( # , # )

Richard Grayson was used to getting calls at weird times. But two in the morning and from Bruce’s civilian phone? He sent a quick prayer up that no one died and answered.

“What’s up, B? Miss me already?” He asked cheerfully.

Bruce looked tiredly at the camera, “Dick. I need some advice to help your newest sister adjust.”

Dick’s eyes widened. Bruce finally got custody! That’s good. But he looked so exhausted. He wondered what happened.

“Adjust to what, specifically? The fighting? School? Is she moody? What’s going on?” Dick asked. When did he become the one to give PARENTING advice to his father?

As Bruce talked about what he’d learned from Marinette’s journal, Dick became more and more angry. He was a guy, but even her knew that you never cut a girl’s hair without permission!

“Sounds to me like she just needs to believe that this is real and permanent. Just be there when you can. Talk to her about decisions and let her work the way she is used to on missions. Thing’s will fall into place after that” Dick said pragmatically. There really wasn’t much to do but be there. He wished he could be there to help in person, but India had recently fallen prey to the mouse Miraculous. He and Starfire were there to capture the thief that was misusing the Miraculous.

Bruce sighed and nodded, before hanging up. Poor Bruce. Dick would do his best to get done here and head home. He was excited to meet his new sister! He sent a message to Jason and Tim, warning them of the new sister and to be nice if they caught her on the video chats.

< ( ^ ^ ) >

Bruce sighed, exhausted. He hadn’t meant to call the boys yet, but this was not something he wanted to go in blind to. Diana had made a lot of mistakes with Marinette, and she deserved better than that. Bruce had only glanced through the journal to get some insight, but it seemed Marinette suffered from Imposter Syndrome, social anxiety, abandonment issues… And Diana, who only exasperated the problems. Keeping her locked away, training her to exhaustion, taking her hobbies and passions, killing any and all aspects of her personality. Bruce had thought Marinette was just shy. This though. He frowned. Had he known about this he would have treated Marinette very differently. Maybe an hour of sleep would help him clear his head. He leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes.

< ( >< ) >

Alfred stared blankly at the ceiling. Something wasn’t adding up. For all that her parents were busy people, they seemed to love their daughter a great deal. He couldn’t imagine they had just randomly abandoned her for being a hero. Not when they hosted Chat Noir for dinner one night. Not when they seemed so proud of their daughter with every award she received. Something was off. Alfred wasn’t a detective, but he would find out what had truly happened if it killed him.

{ J }

Jason stared at his phone, re-reading the message from Dick. A new sister, huh?

‘Che, poor kid. Dealing with B all on her own. I’ll have to make this quick,’ he thought as he lifted the binoculars.

He was currently in Germany, following a suspected Miraculous user. The information about the Horse Miraculous stated that they could open portals anywhere. And recently a string of missing women from Cologne was becoming very concerning. Especially when companions and eyewitnesses all claim the same thing: a glowing yellow circle opening in the air and the woman vanishing through it. Jason watched silently as Cass walked down the street below. The tracker and her own training would hopefully keep her alive long enough for Jason to find her and the rest of the women. Nothing below. Maybe check the other side? Just as he was getting up, he felt a fist to his head. And then black.

*!!*

Luka looked at his phone. Marinette was finally in contact again? The day Black Canary had landed, they had bothered her from dawn to dusk to talk to their old leader, but were stonewalled, as her new guardian didn’t think it was a good idea to be constantly reminded of her failure. The team had shouted that it wasn’t Marinette’s failure alone, but the whole teams. And more over, the League’s, as they never took their calls for help seriously. Canary was pretty quickly chased away by them, and another trainer was sent. Green Lantern 1 and 2 were a great help for Kaefer, but the rest of the team didn’t see any real benefit from them. And they didn’t care in the least about Marinette. They didn’t last very long either. It went on like this for a year. Trainers came and went, all of them parroting the same thing. Luka had a new reputation now, as the trainer wrecker, on the team. And as a civilian? He became completely cold and closed off. Only his teammates saw any warmth from him. But even Juleka was being steadily pushed to arms length. Paris did this to Marinette. And none of them, not her friends or her family, even cared.

<(**)>

When Marinette woke up the next morning, she knew immediately that she wasn’t alone. Looking out through blurry eyes, she saw the figure of a man standing by her window. He was turned away, looking outside with the sun streaming in. She tried to remember how she got to her room.

A knock at her door had her quickly closing her eyes and pretending to be asleep. Bruce went to the door.

“Master Bruce. I thought you and Miss Marinette might enjoy some breakfast.”

“Thank you, Alfred. Will you be joining us for breakfast?”

“I’m afraid I have an errand to run in town this morning. But I will be sure to return for lunch. Do try not to burn the kitchen down.”

“You can sit up now, Marinette. I heard the change in your breathing earlier.”

Marinette cracked an eye open. Why? She sat up on her bed and looked up at her current guardian.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” Bruce gestured at the end of the bed, carrying a large tray filled with waffles, fruits, yogurt and coffee. Marinette shook her head mutely.

After Bruce set the tray on the middle of the bed, he sat down and looked her in they eye.

“Marinette, what I said last night still stands. I want you to feel at home here. This isn’t temporary. Two of the oldest boys are already calling you their newest sister. Marinette, most of my children are adopted. In fact, only one of my kids is related to me by blood. I wanted to bring you here from the beginning, but lost the custody battle to… Anyways, you’re here now. I want you to feel at home and remember yourself. To have a safe place to just be.”

Marinette felt her eyes watering again. Was this… was this real? But her parents had promised to always be there too, hadn’t they? Marinette nodded. Eventually everything would come to an end. But for now, for just this moment, she would allow herself to be comfortable.

“Okay? Okay. So, I wanted to talk to you about school and extra curriculars. Your work schedule… “ Bruce pulled a notebook out of his breast pocket. Her eyes widened. He… He wanted HER opinion?

“No school” her voice was barely above a whisper, her hands clenched in the blankets and her head bowed. She missed his nod of understanding.

“No school. Just distance education with tests and exams taken in the principle’s office. But I am more interested in what you might be interested in taking in University. Are there any particular courses that interest you? Is there a career path you’d like to follow? We will have to start the applications right away if you want to get in for the Spring term. And what about extra curriculars? Dance? Ice dancing? Gymnastics? Parkour? Sewing? Singing? Music? Most of the kids all learned piano from me at some point…” He was looking in his notebook and tapping his pen against his pants.

Wah…? Marinette felt her jaw drop.

“Am I overwhelming you? It’s okay to take a few days to think things over and let me know…” Bruce looked at her face, jaw slack and eyes wide. Marinette just nodded.

“Breakfast?”

Tag List

@maya-custodios-dionach @dur55 @driftingmoonlitpetals @kill-the-purses @annabellabrookes @a-marlene-s @queenmj10 @loveswifi @elmokingkong @aestheticnpoetic @animalgirl05 @northernbluetongue @lilacandcream @yin-390 @silvergold-swirl @reyna-avila-ramirez-alreanaldo @goblinwhoships @weird-pale-blonde-person @ @moonlightstar64 @krispydefendorpolice @kuroko26 @ladylupa @jardimazul @welcometopradasa @thatrandomfandomgirl @imanerddealwith @sidd-hit-my-butt-ham @loysydark @nataladriana9

#Of Being Ladybug #cons of #maribat #bruce wayne #Marinette deserves better #marinette wayne #marinette fu #daminette #minor lukanette #BatFam

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bewaretheidesofmarchyall · 4 years

Text

Soulmate Shenanigans Part Three: Return Of The Shenanigans

Let’s do this!

At this point, you probably know the drill (and, if not, parts one and two are here and here!)

Basically I found some prompts for September, and now I’m doing them in October just because

Prompt #3

You have an animal that only you and your soulmate can see.

Warnings: Death mentions, brief mentions of drowning (I pinky swear that I’ll stop drowning Janus for the rest of this challenge), brief mentions of house fires (I pinky swear that I’ll stop setting Patton on fire for the rest of this challenge)

World Building

Soulmates had always been an idea bubbling in the back of humanity’s brains. A sort of “hey, this romance thing is complicated, could we just kinda know?”

It was starting to annoy the fates

Do you expect them to do all the work? I mean, what with the spinning, and the looking ominous, and the lack of dental, their job is a hard one, and you want to make it harder by having them weave two people’s stories together?

One day, a fate heard yet another “please, let me meet my soulmate tomorrow” prayer and went nuts

Fine. Fine! You want soulmates? We’ll make soulmates.

The plan was to create two soulmates, make them fall in love

And then kill them.

Just to remind humans where they stood on a cosmic scale. Just to remind them that every story ends tragically, when you get down to the end.

They reviewed a few couples (Some Romeo and Juliet people had promise), but in the end decided. Feuding families? Check. Opposites attracting? Check. Tragedy? Inevitable.

Characters

Patton: Patton grew up inside the hedges.

Hedges were his family’s specialty, so the house was surrounded by them. He rarely got to leave, but he could get lost in the gardens and talk to his imaginary pet, so all in all things were okay. Sure, maybe it was weird to have a blue jay that only he could see, but he was lonely!

See, Patton’s family liked three things

1. Having heirs (but only in theory)

2. Increasingly elaborate hedge mazes

3. Fighting a blood feud the goddamn lawyers

Patton wasn’t really on that list, but he wasn’t on the list of hated things either, so there was that.

List of Hated Things

1. The goddamn lawyers

2. Anyone who associates with the goddamn lawyers

3. Anyone who is descended from the goddamn lawyers

4. Anyone who gets in the way of the blood feud with the goddamn lawyers

5. Dandelions. They’re not serious gardening.

Janus: Janus was, of course, a child of the goddamn lawyers

The lawyers weren’t a clan of blood like the gardeners, but one of merit. And having kids was seen as a conflict of interest, and therefore frowned upon.

Of course, it’s illegal to murder or criminally neglect children, so he was allowed to stick around and have a childhood vaguely reminiscent of John Mulaney’s “one black coffee”, “over on the bench”, and “getting accused of murdering Princess Diana” skits

Most of his childhood was spent accusing his pet blue jay (that couldn’t be seen by anyone else) of crimes and then debating himself about whether or not the bird was guilty, like a normal kid.

However, when it became clear that someone else was stealing his blue jay, he had to find them and give them a piece of his mind, even if they lived behind formidable hedges

The Plot

Patton (about eight at this point) was wandering around the grounds, talking to Sunny (his name for the bird), like every other day, when the strangest kid he’d ever seen in his life appeared through a small gap in the hedges and informed him that the bird was his and he’d be leaving soon

A bird custody battle ensues

Janus uses a lot of legal terminology, which Patton pretends to understand. The debate ends when Patton’s aunt shows up and threatens to chuck Janus over the garden walls if he doesn’t get out immediately.

Janus runs off, but Patton sees him through the hedges later, and he looks kind of sad about the whole thing, so Patton offers to share custody of Sunny.

Janus perked up at this solution, despite claiming that the bird’s name was really Iago, and a friendship was born.

It was hard for them to chat when both their relatives would love to murder at least one of the kids if they could get away with it, and Patton was separated from him by the hedges, but they managed.

Sunny/Iago was decent at carrying messages, Janus was good at finding secret passages, and Patton had adequate aim when tossing packages over the hedges.

They were best friends for years and years, confidants in their crazy worlds.

At around sixteen, Janus convinced Patton to leave the grounds for an afternoon. The two of them saw the sights (which meant buying/stealing bread) (you can guess who actually bought the bread and who stole it) and had fun

The evening ended with the two of them sitting under a tree, chatting. The dandelions were in that in-between stage where some of them are flowers and some seed-heads, so Patton was able to weave a crown of flowers and make a wish at the same time.

Take a wild flying guess who he wished for (hint: they were currently wearing the flower crown and pretending to not like it, but would secretly never take it off. Ever.).

Patton claimed he’d wished for world peace (which, on further reflection, he felt bad for not thinking of first), and Janus claimed he’d wished for solid gold coins, but they were both lying.

Eventually, Patton had to go home.

Sunny-Iago: Sunny-Iago had gone by many names before. As one of the extra-dimensional lords of fate, they’d been called things like, “THE FUCK IS THAT”, “IT HAS SO MANY EYES”, and “Oh, fuck, that raven’s back again”. It made perfect sense for them to have at least two, despite being in the flesh prison of a blue jay this time.

A damn blue jay.

At least ravens have a little class.

Anyway, their job was to guide two sweethearts together and then drive them into a metaphorical (or literal? It could always be literal) brick wall. This was proving harder than expected, since the most important thing was to not get attached to either of them and well

Sunny-Iago had gotten attached to both of them. It was hard to see kids grow up and be fine killing them off, okay!

But they knew the drill. This had to end in some kind of tragedy.

So, they had a plan. Instead of having them both killed off because of miscommunication, they’d merely never see each other again and pine after what could have been, eventually turning into a bittersweet story they’d tell to....someone younger and more naïve, or something. They were still working it out!

So, they grabbed a quill pen in their beak and wrote a note to Patton’s aunt (it took several tries. Beaks were not meant for holding quill pens).

The note said something along the lines of “You know the goddamn lawyers? Of course you do. Your nephew fell for one, last chance to fix the situation is at 10:00 at the gate”.

Back To The Plot

Patton and Janus got back to the gardener grounds. Neither wanted to leave the other’s company, so they lingered at the gate, chatting and finding excuses to stay.

After a few minutes, it was obvious that Patton had to leave. Before doing so, he quickly kissed Janus on the cheek, just in time to get caught by his aunt, who came close to stabbing the both of them with a garden trowel.

When Janus came back a few days later, wilted dandelions still in his pocket, Patton was gone, sent far away from lawyers and love. All that was left was the bird. A stupid bird that no one else could see.

Time-lapse! Seven years later!

Janus was working on the most important legal case any lawyer had in a solid three years.

A gardener had murdered one of his relatives (he kept forgetting which one, which was a bit of a problem, since half of his job was to look tearful about them) with a wheelbarrow, and he was attempting to get them arrested for it.

If it worked, the gardeners would have consequence for committing murder, which would hopefully tone down the blood feud a little.

Half of the jurors had been rigged by both sides, some paid to vote one way and some paid to vote another. There were, however, six undecided jurors out there.

The Jurors

Logan: Logan is the only person on the jury who knows anything whatsoever about law and what can be done in a courtroom. He actually wants the most just and logical thing to happen.

Weirdo.

Roman: Roman is an actor in a touring production of Much Ado About A Midsummer’s Ham (Cooked As You Like It)

He just wants this trial process to be over so he can get back to rehearsal-wait, nevermind, the guy with the glasses is cute and he’s going to make this court case last as long as possible.

Remus: Remus is here to cause as much legal chaos as possible

He might get arrested for contempt of court.

Virgil: Virgil gives 0 fucks about anything that happens, but knows more about law than Logan, who knows more about law than anyone else in the court.

Remy: Remy heard from people that court cases are full of juicy drama.

Those people are wrong. It’s just a bunch of legal stuff. He’d rather be at Starbucks!

Emile: Emile is psychoanalyzing everyone else on the jurors section. Especially Remus.

Back To The Plot

The case progresses normally

Well, normally for this town anyway, which means that the goddamn lawyers are dying off fast (mostly of poison).

Janus, however, has managed to dodge every assassination attempt. He’s lawyering like Billy Flynn here!

Late in the afternoon, everyone’s a little tired and a lot bored when yet another witness is called. Janus was pulling his hat over his eyes for shade from the sunlight streaming into the court, when he heard the witness’s voice.

After a seven year disappearance, Patton stood in the courtroom.

Remy leaned forward. He saw the look on Janus’s face. At long last, drama had arrived.

After the court got out of session, Janus dashed down the steps of the building to catch up to Patton. He offers to get a coffee with him, but Patton turns him down, insinuating that he only offered to get information on the gardeners. Janus left, dejected.

Over the last seven years, Patton’s was in the far away land where his family started: New Jersey. While in this cursed place, his family attempted to change him from a dandelion to a venus flytrap, and nearly succeeded.

Nearly.

But when, the next day, his aunt poisons Janus’s water glass (gleefully explaining that this poison doesn’t show up on the standard tests and precautions), he just so happens to be clumsy enough to knock it over before Jan drinks it, and ends up volunteering to get coffee to make up for it.

Coffee meet-ups lead to coffee dates lead to rekindling of old romances (all under the utmost secrecy)

Eventually, the court case comes to a head.

The six pre-decided jurors work quickly, but Logan debates, and Roman stalls because he’ll be missing Logan, and Remus is forcibly removed from the courthouse, and Emile forgot to take notes, and Virgil sleeps through most of it, and Remy couldn’t care less about this, only caring about what happens with Janus and Patton.

They make their decision

Since they saw like 47 murder attempts over the course of the trial, it’s not a stretch to assume that the gardeners did kill that guy with a wheelbarrow.

Janus and the rest of the prosecution celebrate, and in the excitement of the moment, he and Patton end up sharing a kiss.

That’s the moment the gardeners went from Lowkey Trying To Murder Him to Highkey Trying To Murder Him

Both of them walk home with their head in the clouds

When your head is in the clouds, it’s easy to get kidnapped and thrown in the harbor to drown, especially if you happen to be a goddamn lawyer who just won a case.

And when your head is in the clouds, and you overhear your relatives talking about how they threw the person you love the most into the harbor to drown, it’s easy to make rash decisions

Like grabbing a torch and running into the middle of a prized hedge maze, and threaten to burn it all if his aunt didn’t tell him where Janus was.

When the answer was “dead, obviously”, Patton took the torch to the shrubbery, and the estate burned.

Problem: Janus crawled to shore and survived.

Secondary problem: Patton’s not trying especially hard to escape the fire.

Janus got to the house, saw it was on fire, and ran into the grounds. He eventually found Patton (who was still alive and in the hedge maze), but....it’s a very intricate hedge maze, and now there’s smoke everywhere, and they can’t find their way out.

At the last second, Sunny-Iago swooped over their heads, pointing to the exit, and they run after them.

They’re almost out of the burning grounds when Sunny-Iago falls to the ground, still, and they find themselves in another place entirely.

The Fates

The Fates had bet on how good old birdie would kill Janus and Patton off

Knife? was the most common bet, followed by Wolves. No one bet on them living in the end.

Except Meghan (alternate name: The Lurking One), and nobody liked Meghan, and nobody liked losing money.

So, they were going to do the job personally.

Back To The Plot

Janus and Patton find themselves in a tomb where every grave is theirs. A tomb where every grave is theirs is essentially the office space of the fates, who enjoy the atmosphere.

The Fates themselves take a multitude of forms: Animal, vegetable, mineral, eldritch, you name it.

And they all bicker amongst themselves about how to best kill off the couple.

Knife? Wolves? Triscuits? How??

Janus tricks them into debating the subject round and round in circles, but they eventually come to their senses.

As a last ditch hope, Patton says that they’ll pick the method of death for them if they give the couple a chance to plead for their lives.

The fates agree, and the Final Court Case begins.

Janus is quite a lawyer, but there’s literally a saying about how hard it is to argue with Fate, so its a nail biter of a case. Patton manages to give a passionate defense and Janus brings up evidence, but it’s still anyone’s game how the jurors will vote.

Steve votes for death

The Great Rot votes for not death

Spatula votes for not death

Karen votes for death

Meghan votes for not death

A Clump Of Petunias votes for death

Broken Taco Shells And Broken Hearts votes for not death

That One Relative At Family Reunions That You Pretend To Know But Don’t votes for death

Microwavable Lasagna votes for not death

The Ghost Of Richard III votes for death

That Sock That Always Disappears From Dryers chooses not to vote. What a jerk.

At this point, it’s tied 5-5. Enter Remy, who just wants to go to the extra-dimensional Starbucks.

He deliberates. He hems. He haws. He draws out the moment unnecessarily long for drama’s sake.

But, at the end of the day, he was always rooting for these humans.

Remy votes for not death.

Conclusion

Patton and Janus get to live. Time is very short for humans, and eventually they would both die, but right then and there, they got to live.

Dandelions eventually took root where the carefully trimmed hedges had once been.

And Roman noticed, after his performance was done, that a certain nerd was in the audience.

And he could also see Roman’s blue jay.

Hope you enjoyed!!

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thegreatestofheck · 4 years

Text

Bare Bones {Theory 1} ⋇ Pope Heyward ⋇

description: Pippa Cantu has always been a little…strange. With a knack for knowing everything there is to know about every conspiracy, every mystery, and every weird happening, she doesn’t have much time (or desire) for friends. But when her chemistry lab partner asks her to join him and his friends on a hunt for the Royal Merchant, she just can’t say no.

Theory 1 summary: Pippa meets Pope and gets a little closer than she would have liked.

word count - 3.9k

warnings: swearing

a/n: thank you for being here! I am already in love with Pippa and I would die for her, so I hope that you all enjoy this story!! Much love.

***

Pippa flinched when the school bell rang. Keeping her head down, she ducked into her first class and found the seat farthest in the back. She had always hated the public school system in Maine, and even from her first period on her first day of school, she knew she was going to hate Kildare High just as much.

Who in their right mind makes someone take Chemistry Lab at 8 o’clock in the fucking morning?

Students started to fill in the seats around her, some glancing at her out of the corner of their eyes and others greeting each other with giggles and hugs and smiles. Pippa scoffed and lowered her head to her arms. All she wanted to do was get through this day and then the next day and then the next. That’s how time passed for her as of late. Nothing else mattered except getting through to the night.

Someone slid into the chair across from her, but Pippa didn’t take notice of them. She didn’t care. She wasn’t here to make friends. In fact, she was here to do the exact opposite.

“Hi,” the person said. Pippa still refused to look up. “I’m Pope.”

Pippa forced a split-second smile, glancing at him.

The final bell rang and the boy in front of her, who kept his smile despite her coldness, turned toward the teacher. Pippa scoffed again and leaned forward to rest her chin against her arms. The boy, Pope, was glued to the teacher as she spoke in a cheery, overly excited voice. Pippa couldn’t care less what she had to say. Until the dreaded words came out of her mouth. She said those two words that Pippa feared the most when she found out she was taking Chem Lab on Monday, Wednesday, Friday at 8 AM.

Lab partners.

“Shit,” Pippa groaned, sitting up but letting her head hang. Pope seemed eager to hear who his partner would be.

The teacher started rattling off names, none of which Pippa recognized. Of course she wouldn’t. She had spent this entire summer hiding away in her grandma’s second-hand store, avoiding repeated human interaction at all costs. Some people were vocally happy about their assigned lab partners, others were less so. Pippa waited for her name anxiously, dreading the idea of spending an entire year with one single person as her partner.

“Phillipa Cantu and Pope Heyward at table- Ah, the two of you are already back there.” The teacher, Mrs. Stedfield smiled sweetly but Pippa just closed her eyes and sent a quiet prayer for her nerves.

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” she whispered under her breath as Pope turned to face her with a wide grin.

“Phillipa, huh?” He said, leaning against his elbow and raising an eyebrow. Pippa could see this as an attempt to flirt, a poor one. Whoever told him that this was a good idea was a dumbass.

“Pippa,” she said shortly. “No one calls me Phillipa.”

“Well, Pippa,” he said her name with a partial grin. “I’m very excited to be your lab partner.”

She hid a groan behind an attempted smile and clenched teeth.

This was going to be a long year.

***

Pippa didn’t have much to say about Pope, but there was one thing for certain, he was determined.

It didn’t take him long to figure out that Pippa wasn’t to keen on small talk, so he always talked about what they were studying in class. She liked him a lot more when he was talking about science because it was something he actually seemed passionate about. But every time she caught herself smiling or even almost laughing at one of his stupid jokes, Pippa would remind herself why she was here.

Don’t get attached. It’s not worth it. It’s never worth it.

But he was getting too close. He kept asking questions, kept pushing her harder to break through the walls she had made for herself. And Pippa couldn’t have that.

“So, what do you do when you’re not working or at school?” Pope asked from behind a titration tube. Pippa glanced up at him, but he was focused on what he was doing. He wasn’t really listening.

“I heard that the government replaced all of the birds with drones,” Pippa said, testing the waters. She glanced up at Pope but he didn’t say anything, didn’t even look away from what he was currently doing. “One of the origin stories of werewolves was just a really hairy man who stole and ate children in Europe.”

“Hmm. Really?”

Pippa could tell Pope wasn’t listening to what she was saying, just responding absently. With a smile, she continued.

“Up until the 1800s, people in Germany thought drinking fresh blood from executed criminals could cure epilepsy.”

Still no response. Pippa’s smile grew wider.

From that moment on, every time Pope asked her a question, she would respond with one of her many random facts or theories. He never listened. Pippa started using it on others too. As soon as she got into a conversation, she somehow turned it into one of her crazy stories. It usually made everyone keep their distance. No one really wanted to talk to the crazy conspiracy theory girl who seemed way too interested in HH Holmes and the death of Princess Diana.

“I like your outfit,” Pope said one day. Pippa glanced down at what she was wearing; an oversized hoody and a loose pair of pants. Nothing extraordinary, but he hadn’t even looked hard enough to really see what she was wearing.

“Thanks,” she said, setting her bag down on the ground. “Back to Jack the Ripper, I’m pretty sure Mary Kelly’s boyfriend manipulated James Maybrick, you know, the rich guy with the drug problem?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Yeah, so Joseph manipulated Maybrick into thinking he was the Ripper so if the cops came knocking on Joseph’s door, he could pin it on Maybrick. Maybrick got it all muddled up in his druggie head and started to believe he was Ripper, so he wrote the diary. It all fits.”

“Sure. Did you do the homework last night?”

“Oh, yeah.” Pippa pulled out her notebook and handed it to Pope.

“Thanks. My friend tore out a page and used it for a blunt.”

“Some friend,” Pippa grumbled.

“He’s great.” Pope’s voice was tight. “I’m sure you’d like him.”

Pippa rolled her eyes. She had two guesses which friend he was talking about; John Routledge, who everyone insisted calling John B but that was the most annoying shit Pippa had ever heard, or JJ Maybank, who was most likely the homework stealing thief. Both had hit on her once before in a time of desperation, but one mention of Area 51 or the Bermuda Triangle and they were gone.

It was too easy. A girl opens her mouth and starts talking about the things she’s passionate about and most guys scatter. If Pope had the opportunity, she imagined he would leave to.

For the briefest of a moment, the idea pained her.

“Something tells me I really wouldn’t like your friend.”

It was March and the air was starting to get hot. Pippa hated the heat, not because it was uncomfortable, but because it meant taking off her protective layer. It was rare to see Pippa without her sweatshirt, and for good reason. She didn’t feel safe without it.

The Bunsen burners didn’t help. Of course they were using them today, the hottest day of the year so far. Pippa could feel the sweat beading down the back of her neck as she stammered her way through a theory about aliens and the Giant Heads of Easter Island and their bodies.

“Hey, you good?” Pope asked, stopping half-way through writing something down. Pippa struggled to nod. “Why don’t you just take off your sweater?”

Pippa tightened her jaw. How could she tell a boy that she wasn’t wearing anything underneath? But just from the shift her eyes, Pope seemed to understand. He turned off the Bunsen burner and pulled off his goggles.

“I have an extra shirt,” Pope said, reaching for his backpack.

“It’s fine,” Pippa said through her teeth.

“Pippa, come on.” He pulled the t-shirt out of his backpack and shoved it into her hands before she could protest. “Can’t have my partner fainting on me, now can I?”

The half-smile on his face was sincere. Pippa narrowed her eyes but left to go to the bathroom anyway. There was an ounce of relief as she pulled her sweatshirt off of her body. It felt like she could finally breathe. She pulled Pope’s t-shirt on over her head and her stomach twisted into knots. She hated seeing her arms. Something about it felt so unsafe.

But Pope’s shirt was big on her and it was at least baggy in the way she liked, so she thought she was just going to have to put with it.

There was a blush on her cheeks when she walked into the Chemistry lab. Pope had his goggles on when she returned, having gone right back to the lab they were doing. He didn’t look up at her as she came back and she was grateful for it.

“Here, can you write this down for me?” He asked, hovering a stick over the fire. The fire burned green.

“Sweet,” Pippa said with a smile. She scribbled down what she could, not noticing as Pope looked away from the fire to admire how she looked in his shirt. As soon as she looked back up, he turned his face away. “You wanna hear about how Amelia Airheart sent an SOS message after she went missing but it was ignored because they didn’t think she could survive?”

“Sure.”

***

Pippa was sitting in the library, bobbing her head to the music that blasted through her earbuds. Her computer sat in front of her, a thousand and one tabs open at once. Two notebooks and a few more research books lay out around her. A color-coded selection of pens and highlighters was scattered about. The table where she worked was an absolute mess, but it made sense to her.

She was so consumed by an article and her music that she didn’t see Pope sit down in front of her. Her foot tapped against the leg of her chair while she chewed on a pen cap, eyes scanning the page. It wasn’t until she tore her gaze from the screen to scribble something in one of her notebooks that she saw Pope sitting there.

The pen cap fell out of her mouth with a gasp and a jolt of her body. Pippa flicked an earbud out of her ear.

“Shit, Pope!” she hissed before taking a calming breath. He seemed unphased by her shock, a book of his own resting in his lap.

“What are you listening to?” He asked, turning the page in his book. Pippa felt a lump form in her throat.

“Nothing.”

“I can hear it from here. What is it?”

“What do you care?”

Pope smiled at her and gave a quiet laugh.

“It’s just music, Pippa. Not like I’m asking for your life story or anything.” Pippa rolled her eyes before sliding her phone across the table for him to see. “Hmm.”

Pippa snatched her phone back, her cheeks brushed red and her eyebrows pinched together.

“Hmm, what?”

“Never pegged you for the One Direction type.”

“It’s called versatility, Heyward. Look it up.” Pippa huffed and leaned back in her chair. “Is there a reason you’re gracing me with your presence today?”

“We gotta work on that final project at some point. Came over to talk to you about it, but I didn’t want to interrupt.”

Pippa shook off her hostility and gave a shrug of her shoulders. She capped her pen and lowered the screen of her computer.

“Nothing important.”

“Aliens?”

“1500s shipwreck full of gold.”

“Ah.” Pope let the moment wear on for a few silent seconds before he leaned his arms against the table. Pippa crossed her arms. “This is a pretty big project, so I think we should start soon.”

“Okay.”

“Maybe we should swap numbers so we can link up.”

“Link up?” Pippa raised an eyebrow. All the coolness fell from around Pope instantly and his eyes widened.

“I just mean...well, for the sake of the project...shit, no, I just mean….we have to get together at some point-”

“Relax, Pope.” Pippa let out a quiet laugh and scribbled her number onto the corner of a notebook and tore it out, sliding it across the table to Pope. “For emergencies only. Everything else we do face to face, capiche?”

“What, are you on witness protection or something?” Pope joked as his eyes scanned the string of numbers on the paper. Her handwriting was shit. God, he hoped he could read it well enough to text the right person.

The look on Pippa’s face didn’t affirm or deny his question. At this rate, Pope wouldn’t be surprised if she was.

“Can we meet after school today?” he asked. “I’ve got to help my dad with some stuff tomorrow and Friday.”

“Sure,” Pippa said, before leaning back and stretching her arms above her head. Diving headfirst into her theories left her back aching, even if it was only for a free period like today.

She stretched her arms high up enough to reveal a small sliver of her stomach, but something caught Pope’s eyes.

“Woah, is that a tattoo?” He asked, a grin growing on his face. Pippa dropped her arms and her eyes widened.

Shit.

There was no lying her way out of this one. She was just going to have to run with it. Forcing a smile, Pippa lifted the edge of her sweatshirt and showed him the whole thing. The roman numeral ten was etched in black ink into her skin just under her belly button and a little bit to the left. It seemed like odd placement to Pope.

“What’s it mean?” he asked.

“X marks the spot,” she said with a half-grin. “Had to get something to represent my obsession, ya know.”

Pope nodded his head slowly, but a voice in his head told him there was something deeper than that.

“My best friend Kie, she’s got like three of them,” he said. Pippa lowered her shirt. “A dolphin, a wave, and something else, I don’t remember.”

Pippa felt her smile turn into something real. She watched the way Pope’s face lit up when he talked about her, Kie. It wasn’t the first time. On the rare occasion that he actually tried to hold a conversation with Pippa, he would often talk about this girl. Pippa didn’t know a whole bunch about her, but whoever she was, she made Pope very happy.

But that smile on Pippa’s face was starting to feel too comfortable. Talking to Pope as a whole was starting to feel too comfortable.

Pippa let her smile fall and she started to shut her books.

“I have History,” she said, slamming her laptop all the way shut. “Can’t be late.”

She had the books and notebooks packed up in a blink of an eye and before Pope could even say goodbye, she was gone.

***

“A crystal pyramid in the middle of the Bermuda Triangle, can you believe it?” Pippa shook her head slowly. She let herself laugh, looking down at her bowl of cereal. “Anyway, what do you want-”

“Are you going to the school dance?” Pope asked suddenly, turning away from their project and toward Pippa. She sat cross-legged on his counter, a bowl of cereal in her hand. The spoon was halfway to her mouth when she froze, her lips parting ever so slightly.

“Oh, um, no.” She set the spoon back in the bowl. She struggled to meet Pope’s eyes. She could feel the question burning inside of him but she refused to let him ask it. “I’ve got...shit to do that day.”

“What kind of shit?” he asked, looking back at the project. “Conspiracy shit? Alien shit? Cult shit? Or wait, let me guess, murder shit?”

Pippa let out a strained laugh.

“Unfortunately, no. Just...personal shit.”

Pope hummed quietly to himself. Pippa cringed. He was disappointed, upset, hurt. Something somewhere in between.

“So, the project.”

“Right.” Pippa slid off the counter, setting her bowl down and stepping closer to Pope, but not too close.

The front door swung open suddenly. Pope spun around and Pippa dropped to the ground, feeling her heart tighten in her chest painfully, her lungs dropping into her stomach.

“Mom!” Pope smiled as Mrs. Heyward walked in through the door.

“Hey, Sweetie. Where’s that friend of yours?”

Pippa was still on the ground, her eyes squeezed shut. Her heart pounded in her ears and her fingers curled against the tile beneath her. She just had to stand up and smile, that was all. It was just Pope’s mom. She was safe.

Letting out a struggling breath, Pippa pushed herself up onto her feet.

“Slipped,” she said simply, attempting to smile at Mrs. Heyward.

“Happens to everyone.” Mrs. Heyward handed a bag of groceries off to her son and approached Pippa, her arms open for a hug.

“Mom,” Pope said. “She’s not into hugs.”

Mrs. Heyward stopped in her tracks, but her smile never once faltered.

“That’s okay. It’s not for everyone. I’m Pope’s mom. We’re glad to have you here.” Pippa could feel her breath growing short, the squeezing her chest never once letting up as she tightened her hands into fists. Adrenaline ran through her. She tried to cover it up with a smile. “Would you like to stay for dinner?”

Pippa gave a quick shake of her head.

“No, I should be getting home.” She tried not to run for the door. “Text me, Pope.”

Plucking her purse off the ground and shoving her feet into her shoes, Pippa barely heard Pope or Mrs. Heyward give their goodbyes as she raced outside.

“That was strange,” Mrs. Heyward said, setting her things on the counter.

“Yeah.” Pope let out a deep sigh. “She’s strange person.”

“Pope Heyward.” Mrs. Heyward gave Pope’s shoulder a light pinch. “Don’t ever say that about a girl.”

“I don’t think she would take it as an insult.” Pope’s gaze shifted toward the door, his eyes lingering.

Had she known that he wanted to ask her to the dance? Was that why she ran away so fast? Or was it something else? Something about her that he didn’t yet know that made her scurry away?

Pope wondered if she would ever let him find out.

***

“Well, look at that, Heyward.” Pippa grinned as she slapped their final report onto their lab table. “That’s an A for us.”

Pope took the paper and admired the big, red letter. A smile broke out across his face.

“God, you’re such a nerd,” Pippa laughed, sitting on her stool and giving herself a small push so the chair swiveled around in a circle.

“I’m the nerd?” Pope asked, mock offended as he put the paper back onto the table.

“You’re on the Mathletics team,” Pippa said. “I’m pretty sure you qualify as a nerd.”

Pope felt a small laugh shake through him. He watched Pippa look up at the clock and sigh.

“Last class together,” Pope said. His lips twitched as he rested his arms against the table. Whatever feeling was in Pippa’s eyes faded and she let out a scoff.

“You sound like we’re dying once that clock strikes 9:30. It’s just summer,” she said.

“But we don’t know if we’ll have classes together next year or not,” he said. Pippa sighed again, but it was smaller. She tried to hide it as she brushed her hand against her nose.

“That’s the way the dice fall sometimes.”

“We could hang during the summer though, right?” He didn’t care if he sounded desperate.

“Maybe.” But her answer was clear by the way her gaze fell to the floor. She wasn’t interested in hanging out over the summertime. Pope just wished she would tell him why.

The bell overhead rang. Pippa took her time pulling her backpack onto her shoulders. Pope stayed where he was. She offered something to him.

“Forgot to give this back,” she said, refusing to look at him. In her hands was his t-shirt, the one he had given her all the way back in March. “That’s my bad.”

Pope looked at the shirt and pulled it from her hands.

“Don’t take it personal,” she said and let out a heavy breath. “It’s better this way. Yeah, it’s better.”

With that, Pippa fell into the stream of kids leaving the classroom, disappearing almost instantly.

***

Pope fiddled with the phone in his hand. His thumb hovered over the call button on her contact. He hadn’t seen her since that last day of school, actively avoiding the secondhand shop where she worked with her grandmother.

“What are you waiting for?” JJ groaned. “Just call her, dude!”

Pope glowered at his friend and pressed the button while his irritation was still strong enough to overcome his fear.

The line rang once, twice, three times. The fear returned. She wasn’t going to pick up. She would see his contact on her phone and ignore him. He was sure of it.

“Hey, Pope, waddup?” Pope smiled at the sound of her voice. She sounded so normal, as if they had just spoken yesterday and not an entire month ago.

“Hi, Pippa, how are you?”

“Pretty good. How are you?”

“I’m doing good.”

“Cut the shit,” JJ hissed, throwing a pebble at Pope’s head. Pope swatted his arm in JJ’s direction, sneering.

“I have a question for you.”

“Clearly.” He could hear her hesitant laugh from the other side.

“You’re not asking her on a date, man!” John B was impatiently waiting from the side, his hands on his hips. Kie took a step toward him and Pope met her gaze. There was encouragement beneath her eyes, and she gave him a small nod.

“Pippa, what do you know about the Royal Merchant?”

He could hear her breath hitch in her throat as she fell silent.

“I know a shit ton about the Royal Merchant. Why?”

There was excitement in her voice, her thirst for adventure radiating through the phone.

“My friends and I need your help. Can you meet us at the Wreck?”

“I’ll be there in ten minutes.” He could hear her shuffling around her room.

“See you there. Bye-”

The line went dead. Pope breathed out through his nose, pulling the phone away from his ear.

“So?” Kie asked, taking another step closer.

“She’s meeting us at the Wreck in ten,” Pope said, turning to his friends. John B clapped his hands together and started toward the van.

“To the Wreck then,” Kie said. She put a hand on Pope’s shoulder and smiled. His stomach flipped. “Good job.”

“I don’t see why we need this chick anyway,” JJ huffed as they headed toward the van.

“I doubt she’ll even want a cut of the gold at all,” Pope told his friend.

“Bullshit. No way she’d do this for free.”

“I’m serious.”

“You have the weirdest friends, Pope,” JJ said with a roll of his eyes.

“You’re my friend, dumbass.”

“His point stands,” John B interrupted, a never faltering smile on his face. “Let’s go get that gold.”

~~~

tagging - @simonsbluee, @parkerpetertingle, @diverrdown, @ponyboys-sunsets, @outerbanksbro, @kikifromtheblock, @sunflowerbecca

if you want to be added to the taglist, just let me know! ❤

#pope heyward #pope obx #pope outer banks #pope fic #pope imagine #outer banks #obx #jj maybank #jj obx #kie carrera #kie obx #john b routledge #john b obx

39 notes · View notes

otpnessmess · 4 years

Text

Of Casual Encounters And Late Nights Pt.2

Here it is! I don't know if it's as long as you wanted but it's almost double the first chapter. I hope you like it!

First Next Ao3

A week went by where Jason managed to avoid meeting Ladybug again while investigating, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t heard of her. Akuma attacks were as frequent as ever and gave him an opportunity to learn more about the terrors that had been plaguing Paris for years now apparently. He sent all new info on it to his family, who couldn’t believe none of it had reached them up until that point. Bruce was feeling particularly flabbergasted among them.

“You mean to tell me there’s been a terrorist in Paris for years, one that’s been destroying the city twice a week, and we knew absolutely nothing about it?” He seemed to be going through the seven stages of grief before excusing himself to call Diana.

Meanwhile, Jason’s brothers piled up in front of the computer screen wanting to hear more about the heroes and their work. Tim was looking up information on the internet while Dick asked questions nonstop about their powers, and their suits, and if he had had the chance to talk to them yet.

“They sometimes stay back after the attacks, but their powers have some kind of time limit so those are rare occasions, or so I’ve heard. They’re all proficient fighters and each have their own set of powers and weapon. Ladybug’s powers are the most impressive by far”

The mention of her name threw him right back into the memory of the night they first met. Despite resenting not being given an opening to talk to her more then, Jason had to admit leaving had been the right choice. He wanted to stay in the shadows as long as possible, and dealing with the police on his second night in the city wouldn’t have made that easy for him. Adding to that, even though he was quite stubborn and didn’t want to accept it, he felt curious about the spotted heroine. She was sassy and clever and, if the two battles she had this week were anything to go by, her abilities to strategize rivaled Tim’s.

He came back to the present with a jolt when Dick whined about him not paying attention, eliciting a snort from both him and Damian, who also looked at the eldest with a sneer. “You’re 29 Grayson, no one that age should be making those types of noises.” Jason would rather die than saying it out loud, but sometimes he did miss the dumbasses that were his brothers.

“You know, I don’t think we would have believed this was real even if someone had told us about it. I found a... Ladyblog? It has videos of almost every attack from the last 4 years as far as I can see, and these look every bit as outlandish as I expected them to. There’s this one where apparently the whole city was flooded.” Tim pulled up the video in the peripheral monitors for the others to see and, lo and behold, there was the video from the day Ondine had drowned Paris. Faint screams could be heard in the background as the person recording managed to get to the roof of a building just in time to see the people still left on the street be swiped by the giant wave. From then on it was all silent. “This is horrible, so many people must have died during this. How did they manage to recover? I’m sure the news of Paris underwater should’ve popped up SOMEWHERE.”

“They didn’t because it didn’t last more than an afternoon.” Jason ran a hand through his hair impatiently. The whole week he had been aching to go out as Red Hood but couldn’t risk meeting Ladybug and it was making him jittery. “That’s what Ladybug’s power is. She just….reverts everything. I haven’t been able to find out how yet, but I’ve been told it must be magic or some shit.”

“Reverts everything? Just like that? Like….turning back time?” Dick looked confused trying to come up with a rational explanation

“I don’t think so. Everyone except the victims remember everything that happened. It’s more of a cure, if you will. She fixes everything, makes a new Eiffel Tower appear, brings the dead back to life, you know, no big deal.” Jason couldn’t help but chuckle at their faces. “I know, if anyone tried to tell me this before I saw it myself I wouldn’t have believed it either.”

A moment of silence on his brothers’ end was interrupted by the return of Bruce. “Diana is positively furious right now. Apparently someone received a message from these heroes years ago and thought it was a joke, so they dismissed it. Diana asked to see the message and just unleashed hell on the poor guy after watching it. It seems her mother was a former Ladybug and she grew up knowing about the magic of the ‘Miraculous’” He said the word in a way that made his sons think he was as confused as they were “The League is planning to make a trip to Paris as soon as possible to assess the situation.”

Now that brought a frown to Jason’s face. “I know I’m usually the reckless one here, but listen to me for a moment. You’re just planning on barging in here, with an angry Wonder Woman, and a probably scared shitless League, to battle a guy who makes you his minion if you show the tiniest hint of a negative emotion? Imagine if Diana got akumatized. You must really want the apocalypse to start huh?”

He scanned their faces and wasn’t surprised to see skepticism and some smirks too. This was so not typical of him. Jason was a shoot first, ask second kinda guy, and he used to enjoy killing a little too much for it to be healthy. But he remembered what Ladybug had told him about resorting to the least amount of violence possible, and he was honestly worried about what could happen if three dozen superheroes just showed up one day to a fight. “Listen, as far as I can see, Ladybug and her team have things covered here. Give me some time to gather more information and maybe I can find a way for her and Red Hood to have a meeting. I’ll ask her if she still wants our help. But until then, you should refrain from bringing anyone here. Unless you want panic to run rampant among the citizens because the whole Justice League came.”

Snickers could be heard coming from Tim and Dick. Even Damian was trying not to show his amusement at the situation. “Who would’ve thought Todd actually had a brain. We should go if only to check whether he’s been replaced by a clone or something”

“Oh fuck off Demon Spawn, I can be smart too if I want to."

Their father seemed to be mulling over his words before sighing and nodding. “Alright. I think we can go along with what you said for now, but I want you to keep us updated regularly, and to inform us if something out of the ordinary happens. If you need us there, we’ll be on alert. And I expect that meeting with Ladybug to happen sooner rather than later. Also don’t forget why you’re originally there, we have to gather more information on what the Penguin is planning."

“You got it Brucie.” He made fingers guns at the screen with a click of his tongue. “Expect it to be at least a week until I have some big news for you, but I’ll try to make it happen as quickly as possible. And worry not about my mission, I’m almost done with it. Now my dear family, if you’ll excuse me, it’s already 2am and I would like to pretend to be a tourist at least for a day tomorrow. I’ll let you know if something comes up.”

He quickly ended the call and face planted on his bed. This was going to be a long mission. One week in and he was already exhausted. He wasn’t lying when he said he was close to finishing the mission he was originally sent to Paris for, though. He had infiltrated the goons quickly and efficiently, and managed to hear about a drug shipment due to arrive in a couple weeks together with a human one. As soon as he got the information as to where he’d call his family and they could resolve the problem easily. For now though, he couldn’t help but want to keep them away a bit longer. Be it because, even though he loved his brothers (not that he’d ever tell them), he wanted some time alone, or be it because he wanted more time to try and figure out Ladybug, he still wasn’t completely sure.

If you asked him, he would deny it to his dying breath that he was interested in the heroine, but something about her made him want to get closer and know more about her. In spite of the great amount of knowledge the public had on her, she was surrounded by an aura of mystery and something else that Jason couldn’t pinpoint, which had him turning in his sleep ever since that encounter in the alley. It also didn’t help that she seemed to be around the same age as him, her suit doing her great favours in all her red and black. Alright. Maybe he thought she was a bit attractive. Very attractive?

“No. Nope. Not going there.” He got up and decided to ignore that part of his brain as of now. For no particular reason whatsoever. It was only normal to want to know more about the person protecting the city. Call it a professional interest, thank you very much.

The dark haired man decided to take advantage of having an expensive suite for once and took a long bath while doing some more research on Paris. He was indeed planning to walk around the city the next day after all. When he was done, Jason headed to the bed and fell asleep promptly. Dreams full of back alleys and superheroes.

As luck would have it, it didn’t take long for the both of them to meet yet again. Only maybe not in the way the Gotham vigilante would have hoped for. Set on at least enjoying this pseudo-vacation he was gifted, Jason left his hotel the next morning to visit the most popular places in the city. The Louvre, the Eiffel Tower, the Arc of Triumph and the Champs Élysées were the places he had chosen to visit during the morning and early afternoon, but, even though his main goal was to distract himself from the tasks at hand, he couldn’t will away the questions roaming around his head.

How was he going to contact Ladybug? He wanted to do it as Red Hood, but he didn’t want the heroine of Paris to distrust him since he was pretty sure his reputation would precede him. He was known for being the most ruthless of the batfam, the only thing keeping him from killing criminals once he was done with them was Batman’s No killing under any kind of circumstances rule (which if you asked him was a special kind of bullshit, some of them did deserve to rot in hell in his opinion), and he wasn’t sure if Ladybug would be as willing to hear him out as she may one of his brothers or father. However, his only other option would be to approach her as Jason Todd, one of Bruce Wayne’s adopted sons. He didn’t even know whether Ladybug would care about his family name. This wasn’t his city. And on the off chance that she might have recognized him… He was still a mere civilian. One that had, on top of that, to explain his connection to the Gotham vigilantes without giving away any of their identities. Jason knew his hands were tied. Red Hood had to be the one to try and get the attention of the spotted hero. Knowing there was no other option didn't make him happy about it though.

Once he was done with this line of thinking his brain decided to go back to the Penguin. He was trying to instill one of the worst types of businesses in Paris and he couldn’t wait to put a stop to it. As much as he knew drug trafficking to be terrible, he was of the opinion that people who engaged in (as well as profited off of) human trafficking should have a special circle of hell destined for them. Preferably in the very depths of it.

Jason was very much aware that, for as long as he remained in this city, negative emotions had to be controlled and dissipated as quickly as possible to avoid an akumatization. Especially those of someone with the skills and knowledge he had. He had a lot of the latter in strange topics, most of which he acquired growing up during his training. And albeit he wasn’t sure whether it would actually be useful to Hawkmoth or not, he would rather not put it to the test. All of this, however, was sent to the back burner for a second as Jason's thoughts strayed towards what he would like to do to the Gotham villain when he captured him.

Being so busy imagining the 30 different methods of torture he would like to inflict upon the Penguin had made him completely disregarded his surroundings, however. Coming back to his senses, his brain pointed out they were standing at the door of what seemed like a very nice patisserie, just in time for his stomach to growl, his lunch seemingly having been digested some time ago.

‘Maybe something sweet is exactly what I need right now’

Some days had passed since Marinette met Jason, and though he was still burning in the back of her mind, she had way too many things to worry about during the day to remember him often. At night, however, the questions she had originally asked herself the first night continued to plague her, and since Tikki told her not to worry about it too much, the designer saw wise to keep her train of thought to herself. She wasn’t even sure why her brain seemed so fixed on this stranger she had only met once. Sure, he was involved in a fight, and seemed to be a foreigner, but it wasn’t that uncommon for petty altercations to break out around the city while she patrolled. Also this was Paris, for Kwamis’ sake. One of the biggest tourist capitals of the world. There was no reason why this Jason guy should’ve stuck to her mind as he did. Yet here she was. In the middle of her afternoon shift at the bakery. Still thinking about him.

A chime coming from the door brought her out of her stupor. But as she looked up, ready to greet the new customer, she suddenly froze, and her brain could only supply her with the word green.

Green eyes she had only got a quick glance into a week ago were now in front of her and the color was even more intense as they reflected the sunlight rays that entered through the bakery’s windows.

There you have it peeps and pals! I'll try to update sometime again this week in between Daminette December.

Tag list:

@18-fandoms-unite-08 @bamagirl513 @j-a-n-e--d-o-e @dawnwave16

#jasonette #jason x marinette #maribat #of casual encounters and late nights #miraculous ladybug #part 2 #liswrites #ml x dc #marinette dupain cheng #marinette dupain-cheng #jason todd

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aquariusrunes · 4 years

Text

The Superfriends AU (part 12)

Damian kept his eyes on Marinette.

She had been off all day, and their talk that morning had only proven his suspicions. Something was bothering her, and it was all Adrien Agreste’s fault. His fists clenched as the woman in front of him began working on him. Thinking about that blonde tom cat made his blood boil. Whatever he did, Damian would kill him for it. His cousin was sweet and naive despite her vast genius. She wanted to trust people, and when she did, she did it with her whole heart. And that blonde buffoon had broken it in to a million pieces.

It wasn’t just the boy though, no. It was also that stupid video, it had to be. He hadn’t enjoyed it when it was sent to his phone. It was messy and loud, and while he had misjudged the small blonde girl, he still thought the spectacle was stupid. Anyone who poked a cadged animal was stupid, and that was obviously what that Italian girl was.

At least he was finally able to put a face to the name of Lila Rossi.

It was a tactical failure for sure. His cousin had mentioned that she had everything involving the girl under control, but this was not what she could have planned. Marinette looked like she was on the verge of puking all morning, Damian recognized regret easily enough. That had been why he’d tried to talk to her, only to find out that it was the mistake of the morning and something that awful model had done that was upsetting her.

Now his phone was being blown up with messages from the small blonde french girl who was, for some reason, still in his phone as ‘Sweetness.’ She wouldn’t stop texting him, hadn’t since the video had arrived. She apparently got the wrong idea from their earlier correspondence and was now under the impression that they were friends. And she kept asking for pictures of him and Colin.

Said boy was currently the one in possession of his phone. His boyfriend was switching between gleefully rewarching the video with a wickedly satisfied grin and texting with the blonde girl. Damian found the whole thing ridiculous, seeing how Colin didn’t know any French. Yet somehow he and the girl were holding some sort of conversation and he was, apparently, taking immense joy from the video that he couldn’t even understand.

Suddenly a brush was in his face, painting foundation onto his skin. Damian could make a list fifty feet long detailing how much he hated makeup. He would growl at the woman currently caking his face in the disgusting stuff, but Colin was sitting in front of him on the edge of the platform, and the last thing he needed was for the redhead to be mad at him.

Marinette was currently in a changing room, trying on the brand new outfit Edna’s people had slapped together in just under an hour and a half. Chloé was, strangely, also in the changing room his cousin was in. The two girls had been inseparable from one another’s sides since coming back from lunch.

It was strange.

Damian didn’t like it.

The blonde bitch was surely just trying to get his cousin to stop being upset with her precious model, which would not fly while Damian was here. He wouldn’t let Marinette be manipulated like that. Honestly, she was far too trusting. And here he thought she knew better than to trust that bitch. He’d have to talk to her later about Bourgeois. Even if Jon liked her, something was off about the girl, a feeling he couldn’t rip from his gut despite trying for the half Kryptonian’s sake.

Damian’s eyes scanned the room, his mind suddenly being alerted to an absence. Something was missing. Someone was missing. The person’s absence had been nagging at him all morning, but then the empty space was filled during lunch. But it was gone now once again.

“Colin.” he nudge the boy’s back with his foot. “Where did Jon go?”

“Dunno, he got a call from his dad and wandered off to take it in private.” Colin looked up, neck twisted to stare at his boyfriend. “It’s actually weird, because he was on the phone with his mom all morning.”

“Why did Lois call him?”

“I don’t know.” The redhead shrugged. “But it seemed like it really messed with him. I tried to ask him about it but then Mr. Kent called and he disappeared.” Colin’s eyes went back to Damian’s phone, texting out a few more messages before looking back at his boyfriend. “Actually, I haven’t seen Mr. Wayne around either. Do you know where he is?”

“He informed me last night that their was some business he had to attend to, something to do with Diana Prince’s exhibit at The Gotham Museum of Antiquities.” Damian leaned back in his seat, the look Colin gave him making it clear he understood the code. A Justice League Emergency. “He said he should be back before the festivities at the end of the week.”

“Do you know what happened?” Colin asked, turning his whole body to face the boy, scooting over a tad so that the makeup artist wasn’t blocking his view. “At the museum, I mean.”

Damian shook his head, his chin quickly being grabbed by the woman working on him, forcing him to stay still. He bit back a growl before responding. “Wouldn’t tell me a word. Maybe Kent’s filling Jon in on it. If my father’s involved I would assume his father is as well.”

Colin tried not to laugh at his boyfriend’s obvious discomfort. “Guess we’ll just have to wait for him then.” Colin turned back around, eyes going back to the phone. “God she is so nice,” He whispered.

“How are you even holding a conversation with her?” Damian asked.

“Rose is fluent in four languages, English being one of them.” Colin smiled back at him. “I think I’ve made a new best friend.” he teased. Damian just sighed. Between his cousin and his boyfriend, he was never going to get his phone back.

Suddenly Colin’s head whipped back around. “Wait, what would Mrs. Lane have to do with the museum?”

Damian thought for a moment. Lois wasn’t overly involved in Justice League affairs. She was a deputized civilian, meaning she was technically a League member. It was a complicated system that was hard to explain and sometimes difficult even for Damian to decipher. But he did know that Lois handled the bulk of the League's publicity. Thanks to how she handled Superman, and a handful of other heroes, before she even knew their identities.

But what kind of disruption could need Lois, Clark, Bruce, and Diana?

“I don’t know.” Damian resisted the urge to rub his chin. The only thing involving the League and Lois at the current moment was Lex Luthor Senior. The man had been in jail for several months now and his trial was quickly approaching. They’d tried to get that man arrested on several charges including tax fraud, terrorism, and other things, for many year, but nothing ever stuck. But now, now they had him on attempted murder, attempted murder of Lois Lane. Usually this wouldn’t fly, with the public knowing Lois’s loyalties to Superman and the League it would be assumed anything she said to reflect negatively on Luthor would be for the heroes, but they had a witness now.

“The case maybe?” He whispered, hoping to god nothing bad had happened. If that man got out so many things would go up in flames. He would have to get in touch with Tim, ask him to ask Conner. He hated Conor being so involved with his half brother, put if Lex Jr. really was so great, maybe he would have some useful information.

“Case?” Colin asked.

“Look up Lois Lane and Lex Luthor, see what pops up.” Damian turned his attention back to the woman currently painting his lips an ice blue. He didn’t want to discuss such sensitive things carelessly out in public. He also didn’t want Jon to magically appear while they were discussing it. He knew the whole situation was bothering him. But, no one took the attempted murder of their parent well. At least, that’s what Damian’s experience told him.

…

Marinette was living for this redesign.

The tube top had been changed to black, the shall had disappeared, a silver collar, like Chloé’s golden one, now adorned her neck. Instead of the skirt she now wore a pair of high waisted black short shorts, a thick silver belt wrapped around her abdomen. Silk straps in silver, lavender, dark blue, and a lighter black made up the overskirt that hid most of the shorts, only exposing them from the front few. She was also now given shoes, heeled gladiator boots in silver, matching all of her jewelry. The diadem, earrings and bracelets from earlier had also stayed apart of the outfit.

Was it less revealing? No.

If anything it was more so.

But it was a million times more fashionable, and by Edna’s smile said that she knew it too.

Marinette still felt awful, and if anything was a million times more confused after her talk with Chloé, which was still on going. Every time they had a break, the blonde girl would start whispering more of her story, basically retelling the past three years from her perspective.

Chloé was in her outfit from earlier that morning, the two girls were on a platform filled with fake pink, orange, blue, and whtie clouds. Currently Marinette’s back was leaned against the blonde’s, repositioning her head as the photographer dictated.

“I’m a little pissed.” Chloé whispered. “The boy’s get to-” The flash of the camera went off, several photos being taken. “Get to do their photoshoot with bows and arrows. Like that’s so unfair.”

“Bows and arrows?” Her cousin? Angry at Adrien? With a bow and arrow in his proximity? That would not be good.

“Totally unfair, I want to play with weapons too.” Chloé’s pout only lasted a moment before the photographer was ordering them to pose in different positions. The group shots the other day hadn’t been awful, mainly because she was only taking pictures with Damian. It was beyond strange to be all over Chloé, especially with how sensitive her thoughts towards the girl currently were.

She had known.

She had known for years.

She’d been akumatized multiple times with knowledge of both her and her partner’s identities in her head and Hawkmoth never found out. She didn’t even know how that was possible. Just how much control did Hawkmoth really have?

But possibly what had taken her by surprise the most, what she still couldn’t quite believe, was that her sweet, idiotic, adorable partner, outed himself with Physics.

“Physics?” Marinette was in disbelief at the blonde’s words, her sandwich barely half eaten.

Chloé simply nodded. “Yup.” She leaned forward, having laid down on the bed, she propped her chin on her hands. “See, back before Adri started school, I would go over to his house and try and get him to do some of my homework for me, cause he’s crazy smart ya know?”

“I think only Max can surpass him in book smarts.” Marinette nodded.

“Well, he would never actually do anything for me. But he’d explain everything.” Chloé rolled her eyes. “Adrien has a very specific way he explains things, especially physics.” She leaned forward a little further. “So, when Ladybug instructed Chat Noir to watch over me after Nathaniel got akumatized I tried to get him to do my homework.”

“Oh my god.” Marinette mumbled through a mouth full of sandwich.

“And he started explaining in that special Adrien way. He even said, ‘You go this Chlo’ which is what he always said whenever I would get frustrated while he was helping me.”

“Physics.” The bluenette mumbled, after swallowing. “I always thought he’d out himself with a pun.”

“You okay?” Chloé’s voice brought her out of her thoughts, Marinette blinked a few times, smiling at the woman touching up her lipstick. The woman smiled back before leaving the platform.

“Fine.” Marinette huffed. “Just lost in thought.

“I know everything we talked about was a lot, sorry to dump it on you so suddenly.” Chloé looked down, eyes on her clasped hands.

“Honestly, it was probably for the best. If you hadn’t told me when you did I would have just been worrying about it all day long.” Marinette’s hand raised, landing on Chloé’s shoulder and squeezing it reassuringly. “But you do know that I’ve got to tell Adrien, or if you want to-”

“I think I’d prefer it if you did.” Marinette nodded.

“Alright girls!” The photographer clapped. “I want Artemis laying on that cloud, and Apollo on her stomach on that one!” He pointed as he spoke, both girls going where told, adjusting their bodies at the man’s command.

Marinette’s eyes ran over the room before focusing back on the camera. Damian still wasn’t in his outfit. It still hadn’t been fetched from Italy. Edna had mentioned Violet’s younger brother. The bluenette’s mind was filled with memories from her last visit to the Mode Building, when she’d first met Violet and a very eager eleven year old who would not stop aggressively hitting on her.

If who she thought was really going to collect this garment, she could only hope that he wouldn’t be let up onto the floor where the shoot was happening. Violet probably wouldn’t allow it. She’d collect it from him in the lobby or something and bring it up herself.

She’d just been dealing with so much today, she didn’t know if she could handle-

‘ ding ’

She really did have the most fantastic luck.

The elevator door slid open, a short muscular fourteen year old sauntering out with a black garment bag slung over his shoulder. A self satisfied smirk plastered across his chiseled jaw. His cheekbones hard and square, the bridge of his sloped nose splashed with light brown freckles. His blonde hair was swept back, resembling someone who’d just gone for a joy ride in a ferrari. He swaggered across the room, a free hand stuck deep into his khaki slacks. His clothing suggesting he’d just come from a private school of sorts.

“Have no fear!” He announced, holding up his free hand. “Your hero is here!” He pressed it to his chest, mumbling something along the lines of “hold the applause please.”

Violet came into the room from behind him, smacking him across the back of the head and snatching the bag out of his hand. “You’re late.”

“Ow!” He said very pointedly at her, so pointedly that Marinette doubted it actually hurt. “You said asap, well, I had a test.”

“Like you actually try in any math class.” She walked past him, taking the garment straight to the changing rooms, several other assistants flocked to her, checking the outfit for possible damages from transit.

The boy shot his sister a dirty look before turning his attention to Edna, the woman was standing in the middle of the room. “Dashiell!” She called, arms open wide.

“Edna!” He opened his own arms, but instead of hugging they high fived, resulting in a complicated handshake that reminded Marinette of her and her cousin’s own. “So good to see you!”

“I trust you had no trouble?” The woman asked.

“Not an ounce.” He smiled wide. “I assure you, I took this job as seriously as possible, I even went a longer root so that I would be on the water for the shortest time possible.” Marinette didn’t know Dash well, but she did know he was god awful at keeping his secret identity underwraps. She had never been more thankful for the fact that a specific person didn’t know she was a superhero.

“Who is that?” Chloé whispered harshly to her.

“Dash Parr.” Marinette said dryly, watching as Edna handed Dash a thick stack of American dollars. “Violet’s little brother.”

“So, we don’t like him?” The blonde asked.

“As promised, double the normal fee, in assorted bills.” Edna said, patting Dash’s hand once the money was in his grip.

“Happy I could be of assistance.”

“And if your parents ask?” The short woman’s eyebrow quirked up.

“As far as mom knows, I just wanted to see my lovely sister.” The boy’s grin turned into a smirk. “And as far as dad’s concerned, I ran across an ocean today in under three minutes.” Dash winked, the two girls, and several other workers, watched as Edna pulled a fifty dollar bill from her coat, placing it on top of Dash’s stack.

“Always a pleasure Dashiell.” She patted the boy’s cheek before turning back to the photographer.

Marinette was hopeful for a moment, finally responding to Chloé’s question. “It’s not necessarily that we don’t like him.” The boy turned, most likely to leave, but for a moment he faced Marinette and Chloé’s platform. His eyes locked on her. And suddenly he was walking towards them.

All hope was lost.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheg!” he called.

“Cheg?” Chloé whispered.

Marinette held back her grimace. “Hi Dash.” She bit out through clenched teeth.

“Well,” His eyes ran up and down her body and Marinette had never felt more icky in her entire life. “Don’t you just look awesome.”

Chloé’s eyes narrowed. “How old are you?” She whispered, watching as Dash hopped up on the platform. He was a few inches shorter than Marinette, meaning he was several inches shorter than Chloé.

“Fourteen gorgeous,” Dash winked at her and Chloé’s face twisted immediately.

“Oh god no.” She spat.

“How’ve you been Mar-Mar?” He asked, leaning against one of the clouds, he immediately began to flex.

“Mar-Mar?” Chloé asked, eyes narrowing. “What is happening?” She began looking around, trying to find someone to explain. Damian had been shoved into a changing room now that his garment was here, and Adrien was getting his makeup touched up for his and Damian’s shoot.

Chloé was curious as to what would happen when the boy noticed, but seeing as Gabriel was in attendance today, she thought it best not to draw his attention. When she turned her attention back to Marinette, the girl’s face had grown extremely pensive. The short blonde boy was bragging about how much he could bench press.

Chloé took a step closer to the girl, leaning close to whisper in her ear. “No, seriously,” She hissed. “Who is this kid?”

Marinette only shook her head. Both girls turning back to face Dash as he launched into a story about how the entire cheerleading team was currently arguing over who he’d be taking to prom. “Course I haven’t said yes to anyone yet.” He winked at Marinette again, this time Chloé was close enough to feel the girl shiver. “Incase a special little lady shows up intime.”

Chloé grabbed Marinette’s hand, unsure what else to do in the moment.

“DASH!” All three of them jumped at the noramly calm Violet’s angry shout. “Oh my god! Get off of there! We are in the middle of a shoot.” Violet reached up and grabbed Dash’s ear. She yanked him off the platform that surprised Chloé but didn’t seem to phase Marinette.

“Ow! Ow! OW! Violet!” The boy cried.

“No!” Violet began to march toward the elevators. “No! No! No! You need to leave now! You are disrupting the shoot! Demarcus!” a large black man suddenly appeared, he was dressed in a nice suit and was very obviously security. “Please escort Dash here out of the building, in fact, make sure he leaves the city.”

“Yes ma’am.” Demarcus took Dash’s arm. “If you’d come with me please sir.”

“Wait! Wait! Wait! Vi!”

“What?” Violet crossed her arms, face set in a glare.

“There are a bunch of robot pigeons that keep showing up at the house, and Mom is starting to get really frustrated cause JackJack keeps fighting them and-”

“Oh my god.” Violet slapped her forehead. “Okay, just please leave. I’ll talk to Hiro.” Violet turned away as the door closed on Dash and Damarcus. “Jesus christ I hate all of them.”

Chloé slowly turned to Marinette, releasing the girl’s hand. “No seriously,” She said. “What-who was that? What just happened?”

Marientte sighed, slumping against one of the clouds. “That was Dashiell Robert Parr.”

“I hated that.” Chloé said. “I never want to experience that again in my entire life.”

“Yeah, I know the feeling.” The bluenette crossed her arms. “He’s a lot.”

“He called you Mar-Mar Dupain-Cheg.” Chloé pointed out. “Like, what the hell? Cheg? Mar-Mar?” Chloé looked around, almost like she was trying to find proof of what she just experienced. “Did I dream that?”

“More like nightmared it.” Marinette commented.

Chloé stared at her wide eyed. “Mar-Mar.” Chloé said monotone. “And I thought Bugaboo was a stupid nickname.”

…

Adrien rolled his shoulders, trying to regain some sense of comfort now that he was strapped into the white silk tank top. Thick leather straps in brass and gold had been draped tastefully around his abdomen, then wrapped tightly around his bare arms, constricting his muscles to the point where it was hard to move. But he didn’t want to make the jobs of the two men working on sorting his outfit any more difficult than it had to be, so he stayed as still as possible.

“God she’s a genius.” He had heard something along those lines so many times in the past two days, he’d lost count. He had greatly underestimated just how much Edna Mode was worshiped by her followers. Not that he disagreed, or not a lot, but he definitely thought that for some of the designs he’d seen so far, Marinette could easily make a better version. His point only being proved by Marinette’s amazing redesign of her own outfit that very morning.

And she did that while not even functioning at a hundred percent.

It was pretty obvious to Adrien that his partner had been off all morning. Heck, he had been off all morning. He was hoping to talk to her over lunch, see if he couldn’t help her and maybe discuss some things that had been distressing him as well. But Chloé had dragged her off before Adrien could even get to her.

Now that was distressing.

The two girls showed back up to the shoot together an hour and a half later, looking thick as thieves. While the thought of his oldest friend and his best friend (best female friend as Nino was his best male friend and that was the only way he could sort them in good conscience because they both meant so much to him) finally getting along made him so happy, he would be lying if he said their time alone didn’t worry him.

One of the men wrapped a gaudy golden belt around his middle, it was thick and rested heavily against his hips, but he didn’t complain. “You really do look like an everyday adonis.” The other man commented.

“Thank you.” Adrien gave a polite smile as one of the men started adjusting the straps that fell over the belt. Soon four sets of hands were at work on the straps hanging off the slim dark brown pants he wore. A woman came over, fixing his quiffed hair to be a bit more messy. Edna had referred to the style as ‘sex hair’ but he preferred to think of it as a windswept look. Once the woman was done with his hair she moved on to his neck, placing a heavy golden collar around his throat, letting it rest against his shoulders. It reminded him of a cat collar.

Next to him stood Damian. The boy wore a black vest with silver accents, his arms wrapped in similar leather straps to Adrien’s, but his were colored silver and ice blue. He wore loose black slacks, silver leather straps hanging off the sides of his hips in hooped fashion, the straps having similar black details to the vest.

In terms of jewelry, Damian had a silver collar like Adiren’s gold one, but he did not have a belt like Adrien. Instead Damian’s wrists were clad in long gauntlet like silver bracelets. He also had a silver diadem placed on his forehead. A brilliant blue stone set in its center, it matched Marinette’s eyes well, and also matched the matte color Damian’s lips had been painted.

“You know, when Edna referred to these as strappy ensembles, I was kind of hoping she was kidding.” Adrien said, eyes moving back to focus on his reflection.

“Edna doesn’t kid, especially when it comes to her work.” Damian’s voice was monotone, his hands raised to push back the curls of his bangs.

“Seems like that runs in the family.” Adrien whispered, hoping Damian hadn’t heard him once the words left his mouth. “So…” God, this silence hurt.

“We don��t need to talk while this happens.” Damian said, eyes firm on his reflection, it looked like he was glaring at himself.

“Oh-o-okay.” Adrien looked down, as the woman who put the collar on him placed a golden diadem on his forehead. His stone was a much darker blue, possibly Lapis Lazuli but he wasn’t sure. All the knowledge he had in regards to gemstones came from Steven Universe.

“Couple of Princes the two of you.” The woman said, smiling at the boys. “No wonder Edna fought so hard for you.”

“She fought for him, I agreed rather seamlessly.” Damian corrected. “Am I done?” He looked over at her, eyes cold.

“Oh, um yes.”

“Good.” Damian walked away from the two, going to sit down on one of Edna’s platforms that’s only purpose, Adrien was roughly seventy-percent certain, was to make the woman taller. His boyfriend greeted him cheerfully, but seemed to be mainly preoccupied with Damian’s phone.

“Well isn’t he a ray of sunshine.” The woman commented, resting her hand on her hip as she cocked it out.

“No kidding.” Adrien whispered, eyes downcast. It didn’t necessarily bother him when people didn’t like him, he’d had fans and haters since day one of his career. But it was bothering him that someone so important to Marinette disliked him, or at least it seemed like Damian didn’t like him. Adrien could see Damian in the mirror, he was glaring at him.

It also didn’t help that he’d had a knot in his stomach since he found out Marinette’s plan that morning. Nino’s video only amplifying his pains. While he didn’t like Lila, and knew she needed to be stopped, he couldn’t help but think there was a better way to do it then publicly humiliate her in front of the whole school. She wasn’t a good person but she wasn’t down right evil, she deserved a little sympathy.

Or maybe Adrien was just too nice. Which was something Chloé had insisted that morning when he complained about not liking what was happening. Plagg had agreed with her when Adrien relayed the story to him. Saying that Adrien was far too forgiving for his own good, and insisting once again, that it was okay to be angry with someone. He knew that. He wasn’t a child. Nor was he as innocent and helpless as people around him seemed to think. He just didn’t like conflict.

He wished, once again, that he could have discussed these feelings with Marinette at lunch. He knew he would feel better once he talked things out with her, he always did. That is why he originally started visiting her as Chat Noir. Marinette, as herself or as his lady, she always made things better, made people feel better, made him feel better. He just needed a few minutes with her, to discuss what happened, explain why it caused him such unrest. He needed to hear her side. Needed to talk to her, or maybe just be in her close proximity again, after she dodge him all morning long.

Just a few minutes.

She was like a battery, super charging him whenever she was near.

Suddenly a large ornate golden bow was handed to the blonde boy. It was heavy in his hands, and he had to wonder amidst his marveling at the details, if this was a real weapon. Had someone just handed him, a sixteen year old boy, a real weapon?

He looked around, sure this must be a mistake, but instead of someone taking the thing away, he was taken by the arm. One of the men from earlier leading him to the platform, a forest scene. His stage for the next photoshoot. A photoshoot that involved weapons?

He saw someone handing Damian a silver bow identical to his golden one. Adrien couldn’t put his finger on why, but it made his stomach drop. Now Damian had a weapon, a real weapon. That couldn’t be a good idea. This couldn’t be right. There had to be a mistake of some kind, right?

Suddenly he was on the platform. Damian facing him across the fake grass. His eyes still set in a galre. Adrien gulped. He had an awful feeling.

“Okay!” The photographer shouted. “So I want these photos to have a bit more aggression to them. You boys think you can give me that aggressive vibe?”

“Yes.”

“Maybe.”

Damian’s quick answer only made the blonde boy even more nervous.

“Good!” The bald man clapped his hands. “Someone give them their arrows.”

Arrows!?

…

Damian couldn’t help the smirk that stretched across his features as he placed his arrow against the bow’s string. It felt good, natural. You never forget, it’s like riding a bike. Weapons always made him feel so comfortable. He knew how to deal with weapons, unlike people.

His cousin was in distress, and now she was avoiding him. She was upset because of Adrien Agreste. He upset her and she was still worried about him, it was obvious. She was worried Damian would do something, which he wouldn’t of course. But he wanted to. He wanted to do something to make her feel better.

“Wouldn’t piercing that pretty face with an arrow make her feel better?” Something wicked whispered in his ear. The voice was icky and made his skin crawl, evil. It sounded like his grandfather, but at the same time like his mother.

Hurting Adrien wouldn’t make her feel better, just Damian.

He pulled the drawstring back, stopping when it grazed the corner of his lips. The photographer told them to do it, but Adrien wasn’t doing it quite right. Someone had to get up on the platform and help him, show him how to position it correctly.

He reminded Damian of a baby deer, fumbling on new legs.

“Easy Pray.” The voice whispered.

It was like riding a bike. His senses were always on fire, acutely aware of how to take down everyone around him. Even with all the training, all the philosophies his father had spent years shoveling into his head, his inner assassin never slept. His beast was always awake, waiting for a week spot in Damian’s defenses, waiting to break out and cause havoc.

Damian barely registered the flashes of the camera.

He was so angry, the longer he stared at Adrien’s face. The blonde’s glare was fake, he knew that. The boy didn’t seem like he had it in him to hate. Damian had too much capacity for hate, or so people told him.

Damian’s glare was real.

He had a large capacity for hate, currently that hate was mostly directed towards Adrien. Marinette trusted too easily, she trusted her heart to people too easily. Why would she pick someone to love who could hurt her so easily?

More flashes, he registered these even less.

They were told to walk forward a few paces, they both did. Adrien had to have that same assistant come and help him reposition his bow. How was he a hero? How was Paris not destroyed? How was his cousin still alive with a partner who was so useless, with a partner who so carelessly hurt her.

“He hurt her.”

Did he care that he hurt her? Damian hadn’t seen the two of them speak since Adrien left them that morning. Adrien was avoiding Marinette, that was the only explanation. Of course, he was hurting her and he knew it.

“He wants her to hurt.”

Damian was so angry.

...

“Now some without the bows!” Edna had clapped, clapping while giving orders, it was something she had always done. But Damian had lost focus on the world around him, he was just so angry. He’d lost focus. The noise startled him.

He hadn’t meant to.

He didn’t mean to.

His eyes widened as a scream filled the room. It was his cousin, he knew that. She screamed. Marinette screamed and then his arrow sunk deep into the fake bark of a prop tree. He’d missed Adrien by a millimeter, he was sure there was a cut on the blonde’s cheek. It wouldn’t be more than a hair's breadth. But it would be there.

Edna would know it.

Marinette would know it.

Damian knew it.

He wasn’t trained to miss. He always hit his target. Not always lethally, but he always hit them. He had just been so angry. He was startled. He hadn’t meant to. He really hadn’t. It was an accident, he was startled.

“Damian!”

“Oh my god!”

“Adrien!”

Suddenly Marinette and Chloé were on the platform. The girls flanking the blonde’s sides. For his worth, Adrien hadn’t moved. It was like the arrow hadn’t even phased him. All he had done was lower his weapon.

Enda was at Damian’s side. He hadn’t lowered the bow yet. She ripped it from his hands. She was yelling at him but he wasn’t quite registering it yet. He had been startled and his hand slipped.

Marinette’s eyes hurt.

His eyes had the power to cut people, cut them down, crush their strength, strike fear. Her eyes had the power to hurt, to cause hearts to break. He felt that hurt, felt his chest ache as she stared at him, eyes narrowed, frown set.

Adrien had hurt her.

Damian had hurt him.

Had Damian hurt her?

“Damian what the hell was that!” He was hit by the bow, his head ached now along with his heart. Edna was still at his side, she was fuming.

“I-” He didn’t know what to say, honestly. He hadn't meant to. His fingers slipped, he was startled and it made him release. It was an accident. “I don’t know.” He whispered.

“You don’t know?!” Edna shouted. “You shot at him!”

“I’m fine Ms. Mod-Enda. Really, I am.” Adrien raised his hands, why was he trying to help? Damian had just shot at him.

“Adrien you’re hurt.” Marinette’s fingers traced the cut, the boy flinched barely. Tender flesh. Damian knew she’d be able to see it.

“It’s just a cut.” The blonde whispered.

“Edna that psychopath just shot an arrow at my son!” Gabriel Agreste’s voice cut through the crowd. Now the asshole cared? Damian couldn’t help the thought.

“Why are these real arrows?” Chloé asked, getting Marinette’s attention. “Shouldn’t they just be props?”

“Did you seriously give him a real weapon?” Marinette’s words were quieter, but Damian caught them. He was dangerous with weapons, everyone in his family knew that. They feared him when he was armed.

“Edna.” Gabriel pulled the woman a way.

Damian had to wonder if he would be getting sent home. They were only two days into the shoot. His father wasn’t here to defend him. Would Father defend him? Edna could easily replace him, eat into a few safety days to reshoot. Maybe it was for the best? If a Justice League emergency was brewing they might need him.

They wouldn’t ask him to leave, he would ask to be dismissed. It was only right after all. He caused such an incident. He should leave. They would want him to.

Damian stepped down from the platform. He felt an odd sort of emptiness, not even necessarily regret. Just nothingness. He was used to that feeling, it was much safer than anything remotely close to an emotion.

Suddenly he was grabbed by the arm and pulled off to a secluded corner. He hadn’t even registered the person until they were yelling at him in harsh whispers.

“Damian what the fuck was that?!” Oh, it was his boyfriend.

The dark skinned boy blinked a few times, probably more times than necessary, but he still wasn’t quite back yet. Still wasn’t quite sure what had happened. His eyes focused on Colin. He was angry, it was obvious, he was disappointed.

With focus came his emotions, back and at full force.

They hurt like a bitch.

Marientte was upset with him, he hurt her. Edna was upset with him, she was angry with him. Colin was disappointed with him. Colin was disappointed in him. “I-I’m I don’t-” Damian tried to figure out his words but everything wasn’t quite back yet, not back in focus.

“Damian you just shot that kid with a freaking arrow!” The redhead growled. “Why? Why did you do that? What the hell was that!”

“I-don’t know.” He finally managed. God, now he was the baby deer wasn’t he?

“You don’t know?” Colin hissed. “Damian you almost killed him!”

“It was just a scratch.” Defensive. He was defending himself, his actions, that’s right. Because he’d messed up, he’d slipped up. “I didn’t mean to.”

“You didn’t mean to?” Colin asked, eyes scrutinizing. “Damian you aimed, you shot, you hit him.” His jaw was set. “Why? Why did you do that? What the hell Damian!”

He’d only used his full name this whole time. No nicknames, no shortening it, no pet names. It was strange, but that hurt more than Marinette’s eyes.

“I don’t know.” Damian choked. “I don’t-I didn’t mean to. Enda startled me and I just let go-my finger slipped I didn’t mean to.” He was drowning, that’s what it felt like. Colin was so angry at him. He had never seen Colin angry at him quite like this. Though, typically, when Damian hurt people, far past the point that he should have, it was a very bad man. Sometimes Colin even helped him.

“I didn’t mean to.” Damian whispered, eyes falling to the floor.

He should apologize, shouldn’t he? Yes, say he was sorry for hurting the model. He should apologize to Colin and Marinette and Enda. So they wouldn’t be hurt or angry or disappointed any more. But the problem with him wanting to apologize was that he could never get the words out.

Colin sighed, turning away from Damian. His head shook as he began walking away. He was still angry and hurt and disappointed. And Damian still couldn’t breath or focus right. He was in trouble, his father would be upset. Everyone was upset.

He headed for the changing rooms as quickly as possible. He needed to be out of this environment. He needed to be somewhere else.

He needed to breath.

…

Well, today was just going swimmingly.

First Damian got woken up and torn away from his warm and cuddly boyfriend. Then that distressing video. Then his cousin, who was obviously upset, wouldn’t talk to him. Then Colin stole his phone and got a brand new best friend in the form of some random french girl. Then he tried to defend his cousin’s honor, but instead got yelled at by his boyfriend and aunt and by Gabriel Agreste. And his cousin, his cousin looked so upset with him. Colin wasn’t talk to him either. He was being ignored and possibly suffered a panic attack in the changing room, but wasn’t quite sure. He’d never been good at diagnosing his own symptoms, just the symptoms of others.

And now Damian was alone, going back to his room to take Titus for a walk. He needed to blow off steam. Today had been awful. He needed to move around, be angry and sad and mostly alone, but walking Titus would help, it had to help.

The elevator opened and he began walking down the hall, but stopped when he noticed a figure in the small lobby area. The tall muscular boy leaning against the window, all his focus directed towards something outside. Damian recognized him immediately as Jon Kent.

That was the other thing.

What the hell was going on with the Justice League and the two boys’ fathers.

“You okay Kent?” The boy didn’t turn around at his name. He didn’t even respond. That wasn’t good.

Damian took several steps forward, slowly. He reached out and placed his hand on Jon’s shoulder, the boy didn’t move a muscle. “Jon?” Damian asked, voice a little softer. “Are you alright?”

“Trisha Bailey was killed last night.” His voice was emotionless, and Damian took note that the boy wasn’t wearing his glasses. “It was a hit and run.”

“Trisha Bailey?” The name sounded very familiar but it took Damian a moment to place it, when he did, his stomach dropped. “No.”

“Lex Luthor was released from prison this morning.” Jon’s face grew angrier. “No witness, no crime. Or whatever.” He spat. “Forget the fact that man had mercenaries hired to kill my mother. Forget that he planted bombs to killer. Snipers following her. Hitmen. All so she wouldn’t write a damn article.” His fists clenched against the glass window.

“Jon calm down.” Damian increased the pressure of his hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“Lex-” The boy’s Jaw clenched. “Lex Jr. stopped returning Conor’s calls. He also left the country late last night.” Jon’s eyes narrowed. “They can’t figure out where he went but they’re trying to track him, unsuccessfully I might add.” Jon turned away from the window and Damian. “God we were so stupid! Conor trusted him!” He banged his fist against the wall, a small dent forming.

“Jon.” Damian’s voice was a tad sterner. “You need to calm down before you break something you can’t fix.”

“What if he comes after my mom again Damian?” The boy turned around, tears in his eyes. “What if he comes after me or Conor or my dad? Kara? Grandma! He could come after any of us!”

“We won’t let him hurt any of you!” Damian tried to assure.

“What about Lena Luthor!?”

Lena Luthor? Damian didn’t know a hefty amount about her, just what was outlined in her file. She was the younger sister of Lex Luthor Senior. Slightly less evil, known for having a conscience, and eventually turned against him. She was in JLA witness protection, had been for eighteen years now.

“What about Lena?” Damian asked.

“They can’t find her Damian.” Jon let out an angry breath, resting his back against the window. “Mr. Queen went to Rome yesterday, that’s where she’s supposed to be. But he can’t find her. People are searching the whole continent of Europe. No one can find her.”

“Okay,” Damian looked to the ground trying to think. “That’s not great but her brother may not know where she is either.”

“Be real Damian.” Jon looked up at him. “I may not be smart, but I’m not dumb. And you aren’t stupid enough to believe that Jr. isn’t cozying up to his aunt right now.” His fist clenched again, Damian could see it smashing into the glass, but thankfully Jon seemed to still have some semblance of control.

“Damian the Luthors have enough kryptonite stock piled away to fuel two nuclear bombs.” The boy’s eyes suddenly looked so empty. “Lena Luthor was the only thing we had on him, along with Trisha. Now we don’t have either, and my family is his number one target.”

“Yeah well, I hate to break this to you but Batman had double that amount of kryptonite.” It was meant as a joke, but as anyone who knew him knew, Damian was bad at those. “Luthor, Luthor isn’t going to be able to pull shit. I’m sure the whole League is working on this as we speak.”

Damian walked in front of his friend, he wasn’t a hugger. Typically he wasn’t one for prolonged contact at all, save for a handful of very specific circumstances, like a warm cuddly sleeping boyfriend. But this was his friend, his perky, never not happy friend who, no matter what, was always there for him.

It was easier than he was expecting to pull the half-kryptonian into a tight hug. “We will figure this out.” Damian whispered. “I swear Jon, I won’t let him hurt you or your family. If there’s one thing that scares the shit out of Luthors, it’s Waynes.” Jon was fully crying now, but Damian could swear he heard something along the lines of a small chuckle escape the boy’s mouth.

“I just don’t know what to do Damian.” Jon’s arms were suddenly around him, tightly hugging him back. “M-my mom, she’s staying with Dinah while Mr. Queen is in Europe. Damian I’m scared.”

“I know.” Damian wasn’t good at this, comforting wasn’t what he was good at. He was good at getting even, at defending people he cared about, at pissing people off and arguing his point. “Do you remember that ridiculous thing you always tell me?”

“N-no.” He sniffled.

“Good always triumphs over evil, right?”

The Kansan let out a stronger laugh. “Right.” He was still crying, but he was still laughing too. “Good always wins.”

“Well we’re good. And they’re evil.” Damian hugged his friend a little tighter. “So that means that everything is going to be fine. Jon I promise.” Even as Damian said the words he couldn’t help the thought that crossed his mind. “Everything will be fine.” Famous last words.

_______________________________________________________________________

(part 1) (part 2) (part 2.5) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6) (part 7) (part 8) (part 9) (part 10) (part 11) (part 12) - Here (part 13)

Photoshoot Part 4! Y'all I don't know what happened. I sat down to study for finals last night and instead turned on Hamilton and cranked this mess out. Anyway, Dash is finally here and I love him. But he’s also the worst, hence why he isn’t a prominent Character in this fic, but who knows, maybe he’ll show back up at some point. So a lot of what I was excited for at the end of part 11 actually isn't’ in this. It started getting really long so I had to chop it in half. Hopefully part 13 will come just as quickly as this part did. And hopefully I can actually get some studying done before my test tomorrow. I hope you all enjoyed this part as much as I did writing it! Please leave comments! I love reading everyone's thoughts on the chapters, they always make me smile. Like comments, I have discovered, can change my whole outlook on a day. And I could seriously use some positivity heading into my finals! As always if you have any questions about the story or AU feel free to ask, I love getting them and will happily answer any question you got (even if it’s not about this AU)! And if you want to be tagged let me know!

Also for future reference in this fic, the version of Lena Luthor that I am using for my writing is the character Tess Mercer from Smallville.

@graduatedmelon @northernbluetongue @violatiger8 @bamagirl513 @vixen-uchiha @beaversuenightly @tumbling-down-hills-and-stuff @todaylillypads @laurakinneylance @vgirl-10123 @wellcrud-blog-blog @silvergold-swirl @crazylittlemunchkin @an-ahez @queencommonsense @ladybug-182 @meganemily231 @driftingmoonlitpetals @kand-roo @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @theatreandcomicfreak @paradoxal-occurance @miraculousl4dybug @thanks-captain-obvious @sassydepression @multishipper1needshalp @wegan97 @surprisebishhhhhhhhh @redscarlet95 @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @synnesstra @fandomkitty8 @tired-yeetling @saluteswifties @kanamexzeroyaoifangirl @dast218 @naclychilli @royalchaoticfangirl @panda3506 @nataladriana9 @shreky-boi @my-name-is-michell @dawnwave16 @thethirdwheelfriend @quiet-oracle @heaven428 @dabub167 @kris-pines04 @severelyenchantedwonderland @urbanpineapplefarmer @goblinwhoships

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The Royal Fascinator Friday, May 01, 2020 Hello, royal watchers and all those intrigued by what’s going on inside the House of Windsor. This is your biweekly dose of royal news and analysis. Reading this online? Sign up here to get this delivered to your inbox. Janet Davison Janet Davison Royal Expert

Sophie: The royal who ‘just gets on with it

She has been packing groceries in recent days, volunteering at a kitchen and talking to paramedics. There hasn’t been much fanfare around her actions in support of those working in the battle against COVID-19 — but then again, when Sophie, Countess of Wessex, does her royal business, that’s the way it tends to be. “Sophie does everything very quietly, partly because the media don’t follow her obsessively as they do with William and Catherine and partly because the things she does aren’t necessarily very glamorous,” said Ingrid Seward, editor-in-chief of Majesty magazine, via email. That’s exactly what the Royal Family needs, Seward suggests: “someone who just gets on with things regardless of the attention they receive.” Seward likens Sophie, who joined the Royal Family when she married the Queen’s youngest son, Prince Edward, in 1999, to her sister-in-law, Princess Anne. Seward said given that Anne is nearly 70, she thinks Sophie “will take over from her as being the hardest-working royal. [Sophie] approaches her role in an unfussy way and just gets on with it.” That low-key approach has not gone unnoticed by her mother-in-law. Sophie “goes about her duty diligently, quietly and without a great deal of fuss, and for that the Queen adores her,” said Vanity Fair’s royal correspondent, Katie Nicholl, via email. “They are very close and spend a lot of time together when they are in Windsor, and the Queen loves riding with her grandchildren James and Louise.” It’s a closeness observers say goes back years. Sophie’s arrival in the family came in the wake — and in some ways the shadow — of Diana, wife of Edward’s older brother Prince Charles. Some saw Sophie as a new Diana, Seward said, “which of course she wasn’t.” “She hated the comparison as she knew she never would or should try to live up to it.” Louise's birth in November 2003 was difficult, as Sophie almost died as a result of blood loss. “People saw how much the Queen cared about her, visiting her in hospital, which is unheard of,” Seward said. “Gradually and without being pushy, she became the Queen’s closest companion — they share a love of military history and a wicked sense of humour.” That’s not to say it’s all been smooth sailing for Sophie. After her marriage, she continued in her career, but quit as head of a public relations company in 2001 after embarrassing comments she made were secretly recorded by a tabloid reporter posing as an Arab sheik and published in the News of the World. Seward suggests the Queen remained supportive of her daughter-in-law, and ultimately decided it would be better if Sophie and Edward worked as full-time royals. “Ever since then, Sophie has appeared looking glamorous when needed and workmanlike when needed.” She has visited Canada several times, sometimes with Prince Edward, sometimes on her own. The last visit came last fall, with two low-profile days in Toronto. Much of the time was spent at Toronto Western and Toronto General hospitals. She talked with critically ill patients and showed a "great warmth" and a "real, genuine skill in listening," Kevin Smith, president and chief executive officer of the University Health Network, said at the time. With turmoil and uncertainty in the upper echeolons of the Royal Family these days — Prince Harry and Meghan stepping back to seek their independence, Prince Andrew stepping back amid controversy over his friendship with convicted sex offender Jeffrey Epstein — questions have arisen over just how the House of Windsor will approach the future. Some suggest Sophie will find herself in a more prominent role. “We are already seeing Edward and Sophie doing more to support the royals and I think that’s going to be the case moving forward,” said Nicholl.

Royal birthdays — pandemic-style

T(The Duchess of Cambridge/Kensington Palace via AP)In any family, birthdays can come in bunches. For the Royal Family, there’s a real run of them in late April and early May. And this year, the pandemic has been reflected as some members of the family marked their annual milestones in recent days. Queen Elizabeth's 94th birthday was acknowledged more quietly than usual. The gun salutes that normally sound on April 21 were called off, with the Queen feeling they would not be appropriate at this time. Photos released to mark Prince Louis’s second birthday on April 23, taken by his mother, Kate, the Duchess of Cambridge, showed the happy, colourful and messy aftermath of fingerpainting rainbows in support of the National Health Service. Other birthdays right around now include Louis’s sister Charlotte, who turns five on May 2, and their cousin, Archie Mountbatten-Windsor, who will be one on May 6.

Harry and Meghan and the media — again

Prince Harry and Meghan may be looking for a new life in Los Angeles, but some old issues appear to remain top of mind for them.The couple, who stepped back from the upper echelons of the Royal Family a month ago, caught observers somewhat off-guard the other day when they sent out a message saying they would no longer be co-operating with four British tabloid newspapers.It prompted some to wonder about the timing of the announcement, coming as it did during the pandemic, when such an issue might take a back seat to concerns over how to battle the coronavirus.Harry in particular has had a raucous relationship with the media, and the couple has also taken their battle into the courts.A few days ago, the first court hearing in a privacy case brought by Meghan against a tabloid for printing part of a letter to her father began at the High Court in London.Papers submitted in court included details of text messages Harry sent to Meghan’s father.The whole media swirl prompted Jonny Dymond, the BBC’s royal correspondent, to ask, “So will the real Duke and Duchess of Sussex please stand up?“There is the couple who provoke such sympathy in the court papers published today,” Dymond wrote recently. “And there's the couple who think now is the right time to exercise their quarrels with the bestselling papers of the nation that they have departed from.”

“Royally quotable“

As we approach World Immunization Week, I wanted to recognize the vital and urgent work being done by so many to tackle the pandemic; by those in the medical and scientific professions, at universities and research institutions, all united in working to protect us from COVID-19.”—

The pandemic prompted Prince Philip to make a rare public statement on April 20. The 98-year-old Duke of Edinburgh, who has had a keen interest in science, has rarely been seen in public since he retired from public duties in the summer of 2017.

Royals in Canada

(Bill Croke/The Canadian Press)Princess Anne has been having something of a moment lately — or maybe several moments. One came late last fall, prompted by the feisty portrayal of her in Season 3 of the Netflix drama The Crown. And right now, the all-business, no-nonsense only daughter of the Queen and Prince Philip is the cover story for Vanity Fair.

But rewind 49 years, and Anne had her share of moments, too, some of them coming in Canada.

Much media attention was focused on the 20-year-old when she arrived with her parents to mark the 100th anniversary of British Columbia’s entry into Confederation.

As much as Anne was the focus of anticipation and attention during that trip in early May 1971, her royal duties were rather routine, even a bit mundane.

“Princess Anne made no official statement at the unveiling,” the Globe and Mail reported on May 5, after she officially opened Canada’s newest national park, Pacific Rim on Vancouver Island. “Her only function was to pull the cord that removed the flag from the rock face to unveil the plaque.”

Later, the Globe reported, Anne told the park superintendent “she was much impressed by the beauty and the picturesqueness of the park region.”

Our friends at CBC Archives have taken an in-depth look at the tour that took the royal visitors to Victoria, Vancouver, Kelowna, Vernon, Penticton, Williams Lake and Comox.

Royal reads 1.Prince Harry has told friends he misses his life in the Armed Forces. [Daily Telegraph]

2. Harry has also looked back on his time as a child, recording a special messageto celebrate the 75th anniversary of a book he and others loved in their younger years: Thomas the Tank Engine. [CBC

]3. King Henry VIII might not be the first person you think of as inspiration for how to live in self-isolation, but maybe he could offer some lessons on how to find comfort in quarantine. [The Guardian]Cheers!I’m always happy to hear from you. Send your ideas, comments, feedback and notes to [email protected]. Problems with the newsletter? Please let me know about any typos, errors or glitches.

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averagesmw · 3 years

Text

DC Girls x Reader- Christmas time! (1/3)

DC Comics (Comics, not the movies)

A/N: This is a small one-shot collection, with the theme being the holidays!

I don’t own any of the images, they’re just so you can identify the characters easier

CHARACTERS:

- WONDER WOMAN/ DIANA PRINCE

- GREEN LANTERN/ JESSICA CRUZ

- BLACK CANARY/ DINAH LANCE

This is without a doubt, the most wholesome thing I've ever written. I hope you enjoy it and please let me know what you think! -----------------------------------------------------------------------

Diana Prince/ Wonder Woman

When it came to telling the truth, there was no one like Diana. She literally had a lasso to make others unable to say otherwise

But this day, in particular, she couldn't be more cryptic

It was December 21st, the Amazon had pretty much sent you the coordinates that led you to a snowy forest at a very specific time. The only part that was not a bunch of numbers was the message itself that read:

"It is important to me that you make it here, I will explain everything"

Fortunately, the place itself wasn't so far away, so you took a truck to get there. It didn't take long to find her seeing as she was the only one there, not wearing her armor, but a winter coat.

Next to her was a big pile of branches carefully placed and surrounded by rocks. She has definitely piqued your attention and when she laid eyes on you coming out of your vehicle, she smiled

"You made it"

She hugged you once you were close enough. For someone so strong, her hugs were so soft and kind

When the embrace was over, you looked at the makeshift fire she had built

"Of course, now mind telling me what's this?"

"This is why I asked you here. I want to celebrate with you"

She saw the puzzled expression on your face and with that same warmth, she chose to explain herself, as she had promised

"You see, Y/N, in Themyscira we don't have Christmas, but there is the winter solstice. Hence why I called you a couple days earlier"

"Right, and this is how you celebrate"

A torch had been finished while you talked, and Diana picked it up

"Without the wine and song, but yes"

She finished the torch by igniting it with a match, the fire quickly grew

"Unfortunately, I can't go home and celebrate with my sisters, so I chose you"

She handed you the torch and together, you ignited the fire. It was ironic, all your life you had been fighting fire, but this time, you started one

As you did so, she began to chant something with her eyes closed. It was not something you had heard before, but you remained silent to respect her tradition

From inviting the forces of nature and various spirits to join you to dancing and chanting, her ritual celebration was much more than igniting a fire. It truly felt like something from a land past your era, but that also gave it a sense of mystery and, unironically, wonder

Diana herself guided you through the whole thing, holding your hand (although you weren't sure if that was out of kindness or love) and even if you weren't used to it, you were able to adapt with some surprising ease

The perks of having such a dynamic job, perhaps

But when it concluded, she sat on a log near the fire and tapped a spot next to her, asking you to come over. And now, you were watching the fire together, also getting to rest from everything you had performed with her guidance

She was the first to break the silence after a couple of minutes of staring at the fire

"Impressive work, Y/N. It was quite gratifying celebrating with you"

"It was something, alright"

You said between breaths, a bit more tired than she was, but chosing not to make the gap between words that big

"But...it was nice, certainly something new to try"

"And for good reason. This festivity is a sign of rebirth, new light, and renewal"

Even now that the ceremony was over she continued to illustrate you on the meaning behind, well, everything

"Huh, well that explains a lot... I just got one question, though"

She looked away from the fire and into your eyes, intrigued

"Why me? I mean, I'm really grateful that you invited me, but I'm sure there's a bigger reason behind it"

This caused Diana to giggle, soon realizing that while she might have explained the activities, she was so into it that never actually explained the purpose of the whole thing

"As I said, this is a welcome to the new light that appears around this time of the year"

Then, she gently placed her hand on top of yours while the explanation continued

"But for people like us, who have a more intimate relationship with darkness, we stand guard against our own darkness..."

Her fingers soon found yours and in a swift, almost natural motion, she intertwined them with yours, making you look at her only to be met with the warm smile and bright eyes that only she could give

"As this reminds us that the light always comes back eventually"

So many things to say, ways to reply to that but...none came through, just her words echoing throughout your mind. Even if told last what was the ritual about, there was no denying that helping the flame burn, and fighting to maintain the light, it felt right

Perhaps your line of work isn't the same as hers, but the dangers that you face were still threats, and it would be so easy to simply stop answering the call, but if you were to answer just one emergency at the time, just one day at the time...it suddenly didn't felt all that bad

And who better to remind you of that, than Diana herself

You leaned closer to her and gave her a peck on the lips before being pulled by her for a sideways hug, resting your head on her shoulder soon enough

"I-I don't know what to say other than...thank you, Diana"

You felt her head softly touch with yours, chuckling. For a moment, not a word was spoken, the strongest source or noise were the fire burning strongly, and the wind blowing upon you

...Or at least until something else came to mind

"So...you mentioned earlier that you didn't have the wine or the dance to go along with this event"

The Amazon separated from you with one of her eyebrows raised

"Yes, what of it?"

A mischievous smile appeared on your face, being asked just the right thing

"Well...I might have brought some wine for you"

Diana stopped for a moment only to laugh at this incredible coincidence

"You just make everything better, don't you?"

Jessica Cruz/ Green Lantern

This year had proven to be quite an eventful time to be a lantern. Ending a war between two races, repelling a massive attack from the reds, curing a plague and even bringing down a maniacal dictator

And all that without mentioning the missions for the Justice league

Jessica found this to be overwhelming at worst, but she always had a certain someone to help her cope through everything and give her a boost... sometimes literally

However, it was during times like this where she really needed her partner, she needed you

But you were assigned to teach the new members of your core while she...well, laid down on the couch

It was weird, the JL had actually invited her to assist to a party in the watchtower but for reasons she couldn't explain, she turned them down

Maybe she felt like she wasn't as big of a hero as the other attendees...or maybe she just wanted to be away from the whole superhero life, at least for the day

The girl looked to her left to find the empty dining table, a sigh left her lips as the memory of her past emerged

Before becoming a Green Lantern, Jessica used to hang out with a group of people she proudly called her friends with whom she might have spent this holiday as well. But it all changed one faithful night

The same night their trip to the woods was highjacked by the wrong people, claiming not only the lives of her friends but also Jessica's very own

A grim moment that will forever be considered as life-changing and horrifying, but now, it served as a reminder

A reminder that she was alone, maybe by choice this time, but as she sulks in her own apartment

Jessica's previous life might be gone forever, but this new one that took its place also had its benefits, and one of them had just made it home

...with the sound of jingle bells

Not only did this strange sound stopped her previous train of thought, it sounded quite close to her, so close in fact, that it might as well have landed just outside her apartment

Intrigued to find the source of the noises, Jessica put on a leather jacket and opened the door to leave her place

What she saw, however, was both the weirdest thing she'd ever seen and the greatest:

She saw you on a blue energy construct resembling a sleigh with a small bag of presents on the back. Pulling it, were a bunch of reindeers so lively it was easy to forget they weren't real

Oh, and a Santa hat that wasn't a construct

She was about to ask the reason behind this unusual entry when you just winked at her before getting off the "vehicle" while saying:

"Jessica Cruz of Earth, you have been chosen..."

The tone used for this announcement was meant to parody the speech of the rings you worked with

From the sleigh, you pulled out the only other object that was real: a small box, wrapped like a gift and gave it to her

"...to have a merry Christmas"

Jessica was baffled by this, everything you did spoke volumes to her. It was almost enough to make her cry

But she didn't, instead, she immediately wrapped her arms around you for a tight hug. One that you gladly returned

"You came, you actually came"

Her voice riddled with joy and surprise as she buried herself closer to you

"I wouldn't miss it for the universe... literally"

She giggled at this, enjoying the embrace for a few seconds before taking a step back to look at you

"Thank you, Y/N, really"

It would take a while for the girl to process the rush of emotions you just caused her, but she was surprised the most by the smile on your face, the one that told her you were up to something

"And it's just the beginning"

You took her hand and guided her back to her own apartment, continuing to talk without looking back

"Come on, I've been aching to butcher the lyrics of a song with you"

Only after this did she realize that even if she had lost people before, she had gained someone who made her entire new life worth it. Someone who, even if busy on the other side of the universe, will still make some time for her and would even make her excited for what could tomorrow bring to the table

She was still afraid, there was no denying that, but if there's something that can overcome fear, is willpower, and if there's something that can fuel it

...is hope

Dinah Lance/ Black Canary

Differences are okay, they were what helped maintain individuality amongst the people, but the problem was when they wouldn't tolerate each other because of it

It was true, folks didn't come together as much as they used to. Yes, they would agree in some things but would never actually unite unless a catastrophe took place

Fortunately, there was another thing that would make them put their differences aside just for the sake of enjoyment. Such special times, were the holidays

This cheerful ambience more than compensated staying the whole day at the bar as you were asked to do

You were currently serving orders along the other bartender, pouring drinks left and right

Even the manager helped deliver them

"Nothing quite like a full house, eh?"

"You said it, sir"

"I don't know if I should punch or kiss you, Y/N"

Your coworker joked while she finished a drink, of course, catching you off-guard

"What? Why me?"

She wrapped her arm around your shoulders, stopping only to make you look around

"C'mon, a good part of these folks came to see you"

You got a view of the customers, chatting and drinking, giving you all sorts of smiles when they spotted you

You had a good relationship with them, going as far as letting them take the stage when they wanted to try something. As wonderful as it was, it wasn't all you

Yes, there was someone else who helped spark this harmony, and if you were to be complimented, it only felt right that your partner did too

"If that's the case, then it's not just me, y'know? They'd also be here for-"

"Dinah!"

The customers cheered in unison at the blonde entering the bar, visibly tired, but moved by this welcome

"Talk about the devil"

You shared a laugh before going back to your jobs, though it didn't take long for Dinah herself to join you by taking a seat as if she were a customer on the counter

"Hey, Dinah, busy day?"

"Not as busy as yours, it seems" She remarked with a chuckle

A couple signs of exhaustion didn't stop the girl from being herself around you, jokes included

Half an hour later, you were done and were finally able to get a drink, serving the last two drinks for Dinah and yourself as you took a seat next to her

"I don't know how do you do it"

"Do what?"

"This, pouring drinks non-stop for hours and still have that smile across your face like nothing happened, especially today"

She took a sip from her drink before looking at you

"Really, how do you?"

"Well, just look at them"

With this new breath of fresh air, she looked at the crowd, this time in more detail with your guidance

The regular crowd shuffled in, but it wasn't only them, a lot of new faces were present in the establishment and in some cases, even some celebrities

Regardless, they were all here, under the same roof, getting to forget about life for a while along both friends and strangers alike

People starting relationships, romances and even getting to know each other for the first time, and the best of it all: not single frowning face

Then, you paused to drink and concluded

"I do it just to see them all getting along. I don't know how bad is it for them, but watching them shake it off and have a good time makes it worth it"

There was no answer to that, You just saw Dinah stare at you with worried eyes and eventually, a smile

"Come here" She ordered softly

So you leaned close to her and she quickly held you closer to make your lips touch. Seeing as words failed at the moment, you felt her opinion about it when she intensified the act briefly

Dinah broke the kiss shortly after, still staring at you and smiling upon regaining her breath

"This world doesn't deserve you, Y/N L/N"

Before anything else happened, you heard one of the customers yelling from across the room

"Come on, Dinah, sing us a song!"

You chuckled together, being reminded of where you were

"Looks like you're needed"

You told her with a smirk, but then another voice chimed in

"You too, help the lady!"

This time Dinah was smirking, you were even now

"Looks like I'm not the only one"

She stood up and offered you a hand

"Now let's give them the show they deserve"

Nodding, you took her hand and together you got on the stage, much to the crowd's joy

"Let's start with one that you all know, better sing along with me!"

#dc comics #jessica cruz #dinah lance #diana of themyscira #Wonder Woman #green lantern #black canary #reader #christmas

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chaoskirin2 · 4 years

Note

As a long time Queen fan, is there anything you know about John Deacon that most fans are unaware of or forgotten? Any misconceptions? There is a lot about him but I hear all sorts of rumors like the stripper story.

I wish I could answer this with actual information. It would be great if I had something to bring to the fandom. Cool facts. Amusing anecdotes. But I don’t.

What I can say is this:

You can sense a lot about a person by how they present themselves. I think on some level, everyone has an empathic connection with the people they admire. Sometimes we find kindred spirits or people we look up to. We always want to say “My fave would never!” but the truth is, the people we look up to are human, too. They have their flaws and vices just like everyone else does.

Because people aren’t just black and white. We’re not all separated into “hero” and “villain.” There’s no alignment chart that encompasses whole populations. Sometimes bad people do good things. And sometimes good people do bad things. We should always look at the whole, and see any individual as a complete, balanced person.

We can identify and praise the good, but we can also examine and denounce the bad.

It’s important to not turn a blind eye to the bad things. But I think we also have a responsibility, before we attack, demean, or cast someone out, to verify that those things about them are true. The internet brings us into a world where published accusations have no filter, reach masses, and spread like wildfire. Before rumors can be contained and lies extinguished, too many people get absorbed into a groupthink mentality and lock themselves in an echo chamber where reality doesn’t shine.

I looked into the story of John and the adult club with an open mind. I knew I might find that it was all true in the end, and that would have been disappointing. But the important thing is that I didn’t trust the writings of an infamous, sensationalist tabloid and did the necessary work to uncover its veracity. I didn’t want to pry into John Deacon’s private life, but I think as his fans, we owe it to him not to spread false information.

And it wasn’t an easy process. In my original conversations with Sophisticats, I was told they wouldn’t talk to me unless I was seeking an audition. In fact, I didn’t hear back on the answers to my questions until months later, long after I published the original debunking. (I’ll post that under a read more below.)

In the end, I think Deacon has given us an indescribable part of himself that can’t be quantified or be given a price tag. And we owe him his privacy. We also owe him the courtesy to not seek out scandal just because he is a quiet, private man.

My original debunking of the Sophisticats Bullshit:

After carefulconsideration, I've decided to fact-check the story about John Deacon's forayinto strip clubs, titled "Queen's Boring Bassist," published in theDaily Mail on January 30, 2005.

First, looking at theDaily Mail's track record, it is considered to be an unreliable, far-right(conservative) newspaper. According to readers on Quora, it "has zerocredibility" and is "sensationalist nonsense." User GraemeShimmin states that he uses the Daily Mail as a reverse fact-check: "if the Daily Mail says something is true thenI assume it is untrue."According to Media Bias/Fact Check (mediabiasfactcheck.com/daily-mail/) thepaper has a "poor track record with fact-checkers.) The Wikipedia articleabout the Daily Mail states that it is unreliable and biased, and has also beencriticized for instances of copyright violation.

It has also come underfire in the past for its powerful bias. In the 1930s, the Daily Mail ranseveral articles praising Nazism and Fascism. Virgin Trains recently stoppedstocking the Daily Mail due to its strong-right stance as beinganti-immigration and anti-LGBT, among other things.

Most notably, severalcelebrities, including Diana Rigg, Elton John, and J. K. Rowling, have brought successfullawsuits against the Daily Mail for publishing false information. Of particularinterest, and almost directly related to the subject matter of this fact-check,Melania Trump received a settlement based on allegations published in the DailyMail stating that she had been an "escort" in the 1990s.

Wikipedia will also notallow the Daily Mail to be used as a source.

The article itself ispoorly-written, is riddled with grammatical and punctuation errors, andcontains a general lack of impartiality. Any publication with integrity willhave a preference for neutral language which does not lead its readers to aparticular conclusion. It also contains heavy speculation pertaining toDeacon's decision to not tour or give interviews related to Queen.

It makes the medicallyinaccurate statement that Freddie Mercury "died of AIDS." (it isimpossible to die from AIDS. People who suffer the disease die due tocomplications from AIDS' attack on the immune system. In Mercury's case, hepassed away due to bronchopneumonia related to AIDS.)

Lastly, there are nocorroborating sources - no other articles in any publications mention that JohnDeacon ever visited a strip club or had an affair. Compare this to theextensive coverage of Brian May's marriage problems with his current wife,Anita Dobson. Needless to say, it is extremely important that multiple sourcesverify any information for it to be considered true. Of note, other far-rightsources that publish articles with no corroborating sources include BreitbartNews and the Westboro Baptist Church.

It was very interestingthat the Daily Mail has a quote by Opposition dancer Jenny Fewins, but it isnot attributed. I found the quote's source by accident, when looking forinformation about her and her credibility. The quote in the Daily Mail wasstolen from a book called Queen: TheEarly Years by Mark Hodkinson, with no credit given. This was a surprising,but welcome, confirmation of the sources that state that the Daily Mail hasbeen cited for copyright infringement. The part about Freddie Mercury arrivingat the wedding wearing a feather boa, as well as Roger Taylor's assessment ofDeacon's personality, are also from the same book, and also uncredited.

Both anecdotes are alsotruncated and incomplete, and spliced with false paraphrasing. For example,Roger Taylor did not say, "We were so over-the-top, we thought thatbecause he was quiet, he would fit in with us without too much upheaval."The correct quote from the original source is, "We thought he was great.We were all so used to each other, and so over the top. We thought that becausehe was quiet, he would fit in with us without too much upheaval. He was a greatbass player, too -- and the fact that he was a wizard with electronics was alsoa deciding factor."

I cannot find any sourcefor the quote by Robert Ahwai, nor much about him, other than the fact that itseems he is a real person. His quote in the article, if it is real, is alsospeculative, and from a person who only knew Deacon from college and had noassociation with him at the time of Freddie Mercury's death.

Unfortunately, whilesearching for information about whether or not Deacon's relationship withdancer Emma Shelley was, indeed, an affair (as well as whether or not sheexisted) I had to compare information about the affairs of Brian May and RogerTaylor. The reason behind this endeavor is to set the bar for how much information ispublished about the personal lives of Queen members. In my search, I foundseveral articles about May's affair with secretary Julie Glover, as well as ahandful of candid photographs. I also found a few articles, and one picture,about Roger Taylor's affair with Fay Lawrence. Despite celebrities' attempts tokeep extramarital affairs secret, there are always a few photographs thatappear, especially in the UK, where tabloid press is viciously always on thelookout for gossip. Paparazzi can earn quite a bit of money from an exclusivephoto.

When Simon Langer and hispartner, John McKeown, took over the Sophisticats strip club in 2001, heestablished several club rules, which directly conflict with information fromthe article. First, that clients in the strip club are not allowed to have anycontact whatsoever with the dancers. The article states that Shelley was a"lap dancer," which would, of course, require some pretty close contact.

Second, dancers are notpermitted to accept addresses or phone numbers from clients. Clients whoacquire personal information are not permitted back into the club, and thedancers are terminated.

I attempted to findcontact information for Mr. Langer or Mr. McKeown, however, I was unable tofind any current addresses or phone numbers. In hopes that an email would reachthe proper entities, I sent a message to the account set up for bookings andauditions, which was the only email address listed on the site.

I wished to ask about howstrictly the rules are enforced. I also found it odd that apparently Mr. Langerhad no problem with giving out client information to the Daily Mail,specifically stating that he knew Deacon visited the establishment. Even more shocking,he gave out information about his employees - someone named "Olga"with no last name given, as well as Emma Shelley. This seemed like a breach oftrust to me.

The strip club that Johnis said to have attended, Sophisticats, does indeed exist. As Sophisticats hasno contact information on their website, I messaged their page on Facebook,asking as to whether they employed any women named "Olga" or"Emma Shelley" circa 2000-2001. I also located an email address aftersome extensive searching, and sent the same question to that email, as well.

Unfortunately,Sophisticats declined comment to my inquiry. The only response I received askedwhether or not I planned on auditioning.

The strangest thing aboutJohn Deacon's alleged affair with Emma Shelley is that one particular photo isposed, as if taken with his permission. Considering the fact that multiplesources (including the Daily Mail, which published the photo) state that Deaconis secretive and reclusive, he would not pose for a photo with a mistress if hewished to keep the affair secret. This photo is also blurry, which is atechnique of photomanipulators who have severely edited a photo. Had Deaconactually posed for this photo, there would be no need for it to be blurry, asthe photographer wouldn't have had to rush to take it. Interestingly, it isalso impossible to tell whether or not the man in the photo is actually JohnDeacon.

The answer to this point might seem obvious - the photos were taken in secret.However, with the saturation and contrast in these photos (a point I willexplore in more detail shortly) they must have been taken with a flash. Whileit might have been possible to take such a photo with a high ISO, the entirepicture would have been extremely bright and grainy. If you check the photos,you'll see that there is absolutely no grain indicative of a high ISO, nor isthere enough blurriness to support a conclusion that any grain was removed. Thebrightness of the subject matter and the extreme black background can only meanthat a flash was used.

Which Deacon would havenoticed. As would have the dancer in the photos. The person who took the photoslikely would have had his camera confiscated, and would have been escorted outof the club - they would not have had the opportunity to take one photo, thenmove, and take a second photo.

And... This is as far as Igot with the research before I stopped working on it. As I was unable to getany further information (including from another club that may have beeninvolved - Stringfellows) I could not continue my research. Take from this whatyou will.Sorry about the incompleteness of this. It's all I was able to accomplish.

#queen #queen band #john deacon #that fucking article that won't fucking die #Anonymous

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